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diff --git a/old/69390-0.txt b/old/69390-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2856012..0000000 --- a/old/69390-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6735 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Aristocracy in America, vol. 1, by -Francis Joseph Grund - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Aristocracy in America, vol. 1 - -Author: Francis Joseph Grund - -Release Date: November 20, 2022 [eBook #69390] - -Language: English - -Produced by: The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - generously made available by The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA, VOL. -1 *** - - - - - - ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA. - - VOL. I. - - - - - LONDON: - PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, - Bangor House, Shoe Lane. - - [Illustration: _W. Greatbatch, sc._ - - MARTIN VAN BUREN, - - _President of the United States_. - - London, Published by Richard Bentley, 1839] - - - - - ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA. - - FROM THE - - SKETCH-BOOK OF A GERMAN NOBLEMAN. - - EDITED BY - - FRANCIS J. GRUND. - - AUTHOR OF “THE AMERICANS IN THEIR MORAL, SOCIAL, - AND POLITICAL RELATIONS.” - - “Why should the poor be flatter’d? - No: let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, - And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, - Where thrift may follow fawning.” - - SHAKSPEARE’S _Hamlet_, Act iii. Scene 2. - - - IN TWO VOLUMES. - - VOL. I. - - LONDON: - RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. - Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty. - - 1839. - - - - - TO THE AMERICAN PEOPLE. - - -I dedicate to you the following pages, written by one of your -fellow-citizens, who, though a European by birth, is firmly and -devotedly attached to his adopted country. - -If their contents should in any way offend you,--if the serious -or ironical arguments contained in them should meet with your -displeasure,--I entreat you to consider the purity of the Author’s -intention, who, even where he employs personal satire, wishes but to -expose error for the purpose of reform, not of ridicule. - -Neither must you look upon them as containing aught against the laws -and institutions of your country. Not those glorious monuments of the -virtue and wisdom of your fathers, but the men who would turn them to -vicious and selfish purposes are justly upheld to derision. - -A people like yourselves, great, powerful, and magnanimous, is as much -beyond the reach of personal satire as it is proof against the weapons -of its foes: not so the men who, claiming for themselves a specific -distinction, cannot properly be considered as identified with your -principles and character. - -Against these then, and against these alone, is the following work--of -which I am but the Editor--directed, in the hope of thereby rendering -a service to the Public, which, both in the capacity of a writer and -a citizen of the United States, I readily acknowledge as my Lord and -Sovereign. What other object, indeed, could he have, whose wishes, -hopes, and expectations are identified with your own, and who considers -no earthly honour equal to that of being - - Your humblest servant and - Fellow-citizen, - FRANCIS J. GRUND. - - London, May 10th, 1839. - - - - - PREFACE. - - -I herewith submit to the British Public a work principally intended -for the benefit of the American. Both people, however, are so -intimately connected by the ties of friendship and consanguinity, and -so many errors and faults of the Americans--as, indeed, most of their -virtues--are so clearly and distinctly to be traced to their British -origin, that the perusal of the following pages may, perhaps, be not -altogether uninteresting to the readers of both countries. - -As individuals may study their own character by carefully examining and -observing that of their fellow-creatures,--for it is only in comparing -ourselves with others that we become acquainted with ourselves,--so -may a correct knowledge of one nation, and the tendencies of its -institutions, enable another to form a proper estimate of itself, and -to set a right value on its own laws and government. - -Such is the object of the following publication; the Public must decide -whether it has been attained. - - THE EDITOR. - - London, May 10th, 1839. - - - - - CONTENTS - - OF - - THE FIRST VOLUME. - - - PART I. - - CONTAINING THE ADVENTURES OF A DAY SPENT AMONG - THE BLOODS IN NEW YORK. - - Introduction.--Character of the Author. Page 3 - - - CHAPTER I. - - Walk to the Battery.--The Breakfast.--Conversation of - young travelled Americans.--Their Notions of Politics, - Negroes, and Women. 16 - - - CHAPTER II. - - Return to the City.--Arrival of the London Packet.--Reception - of the Passengers.--American Speculations on - an English Lord.--Introduction to a Fashionable Boarding-house.--A - New England Minerva.--A Belle.--A Lady - from Virginia.--Conduct of Fashionable Young Ladies - towards Gentlemen of an inferior Standing.--Confusion - produced by the Dinner-bell. 49 - - - CHAPTER III. - - The Dinner.--Reflections on the Homage paid to American - Women.--Observation of a Fashionable Young Lady - on American eating.--The Party after Dinner.--An American - descanting on the Fashions.--Parallel between English - and American Women.--Manner of rising in Society.--Extravagance - and Waste of the Middle Classes.--Toad-eating - of Fashionable Americans in Europe.--Their - Contempt for the Liberal Institutions of their Country.--Manner - in which the Society of America may be used as - a Means of correcting the Notions of European Exaltados.--The - British Constitution in high favour with the Upper - Classes.--Southern and Northern Aristocracy contrasted.--Aristocracy - of Literati.--American Women in Society and - at Home.--Pushing in Society the Cause of Failures.--Western - Aristocracy.--An Aristocratic Lady in Pittsburgh.--Aristocracy - in a Printer’s Shop.--Philosophical - Windings-up of the Party. 84 - - - CHAPTER IV. - - Joining the Ladies.--Education of a Fashionable Young - Lady in New York--her Accomplishments.--Tea without - Gentlemen.--Commercial Disasters not affecting the - Routine of Amusements in the City of New York.--The - Theatre.--Forest come back to America.--Opinions of the - Americans on Shakspeare and the Drama.--Their Estimation - of Forest as an Actor.--Forest and Rice contrasted. 155 - - - CHAPTER V. - - Description of an American Rout.--A Flirtation.--The - Floor kept by the same Set of Dancers.--Fashionable - Characters.--An Unfortunate Girl at a Party.--Inquiry - instituted in her Behalf.--Anecdote of two Fashionable - young Ladies at Nahant.--Aristocratic Feelings of the - Americans carried abroad.--Anecdotes.--Reflections on - the Manners of the Higher Classes.--Anecdotes illustrative of Western - Politeness and Hospitality.--Kentucky Hospitality.--Hypocrisy - of the Higher Orders of Americans.--Aristocracy - in Churches.--An American Aristocrat compared - to Shylock.--A Millionnaire.--Two Professional Men.--Stephen - Gerard.--A Gentleman of Norman Extraction.--Different - Methods resorted to for procuring Ancestors.--Americans - and the English contrasted.--A Country Representative--Method - of making him desert his Principles.--Political - Synonyms.--Contempt for Democracy.--Expectations - of the American Aristocracy.--Objections to - Waltzing.--Announcement of Supper. 190 - - - CHAPTER VI. - - A German Dissertation on Eating.--Application of Eating - to Scientific, Moral, and Political Purposes.--Democrats - in America not in the Habit of entertaining People.--Consequences - of this Mistake.--The Supper.--Dialogue - between a Country Representative and a Fashionable - Lady.--Mode of winning Country Members.--Hatred of - the Higher Classes of everything belonging to Democracy.--Attachment - of the Old Families to England.--Hatred of - the “Vulgar English.”--The French, and even the English, - not sufficiently aristocratic for the Americans.--Generosity - of the Americans toward England.--A Fashionable - Young Lady.--An American Exquisite.--Middle-aged - Gentlemen and Ladies.--Americans not understanding - how to amuse themselves, because they do not know how - to laugh.--Negroes the happiest People in the United - States.--Breaking-up of the Party.--Gallantry of the - Gentlemen. 228 - - - CHAPTER VII. - - Late Hours kept in New York.--The Oyster-shops of - New York compared to those of Philadelphia.--Important - Schism on that Subject.--The Café de l’Indépendance.--A - French Character.--Description of a Fashionable Oyster-shop.--A - sensible American just returned from Paris.--His - account of American Aristocracy abroad.--Mr. L*** - and Mr. Thistle.--A shrewd Yankee Tailor in Paris.--His - Advice to his Countrymen.--An American Senator - scorning to become the fee’d Advocate of the Mob, after - the manner of O’Connell. 277 - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - Return Home.--A Passage from the Edinburgh Review, - apologetical of American Federalism.--Speculation on the - Subject.--Little Reward of Democracy in the United States.--The - Higher Classes contending for the Purse.--Consequence - of this Policy.--Declaration of an American Reviewer - with regard to American Poets.--Their Reward in - Europe.--Falling asleep.--The Nightmare. 306 - - - - - ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA. - - PART I. - - CONTAINING THE ADVENTURES OF A DAY SPENT - AMONG THE BLOODS IN NEW YORK. - - - - - INTRODUCTION. - - CHARACTER OF THE AUTHOR. - - -The following sketches of “American Aristocracy” were written in a -desultory manner during a journey the Author took some time ago from -Boston to Washington, after having sojourned a number of years in the -country. - -The Author, now _residing in New York_, not having sufficient courage -to publish them, I undertook that task for him; not with a view to -pecuniary profit, but in order to render a service to truth, which -ought to be acceptable at all times, and cannot but benefit a young, -aspiring, prosperous country like the United States. - -Numerous works have already been published on “American Society;” but -its peculiar tendency towards _Aristocracy_, its talents, resources, -and prospects, have never been more than generally and superficially -dwelt upon, even by the best writers. This is a great fault. The -Americans have, as they repeatedly assure Europeans, “a great deal -of Aristocracy,” and, in general, a very nice taste for artificial -distinctions; a circumstance which, as yet, is but little known to the -great bulk of the European public, who still imagine them to be a set -of savages. - -The Author of these pages seems to have made it his study to bring -those hidden gems to light, in order to vindicate his adopted country -from the reproach of _equality_ and _barbarism_, indiscriminately -heaped upon it by the Tories of all countries, and especially by the -_great_ Tories of England. - -Before entering on the task assigned me, it is, however, necessary -first to acquaint the reader with the personage of the Author, who was -once a sporting character; but is now a sedate, moral, religious man, -scarcely to be told from a real American. Although of noble extraction, -being the seventh son of the Westphalian Baron Von K--pfsch--rtz, -whose family dates back to the eighth century, he has, while in the -United States, sunk the nobleman in the man of business; in consequence -of which he now passes generally for “a sensible man.” Had he been -_born_ and _bred_ in America, and inherited or acquired a large -fortune, his being descended from a noble family might have added to -his other accomplishments; but the pedigree of a poor German nobleman -without a rent-roll could not possibly do him any good, and might have -done him much harm in raising the jealousy of his employers. - -For a time he devoted himself to politics, in which he was a great -enthusiast, but soon discovered his error; and, finding winds and -waves more steady than the favours of the public, became supercargo -of an American East Indiaman. He stayed three years in Canton, -and on his return married the daughter of the president of an -insurance office--the young lady having fallen in love with him at -a party,--notwithstanding the remonstrances of the family, who -considered the match a poor one. He has since had two children by his -wife, and a clerkship by his father in-law; all which, taken together, -has done much to attach him to the country, and will, I doubt not, in -due time make him “a patriot.” - -I must yet observe that the following “sketches” were written during -the Author’s political career, and shortly after; it being agreed -between him and his father-in-law, at the time of his marriage, that -he should never again use a pen except for the benefit of the office, -or to write a letter to his _beau-père_, provided he be willing to -frank it. This promise I understood him to have religiously kept, as -indeed every other he made at that time; but, feeling all the while -some lurking desire to see himself in print, he thought it no harm to -touch up an _old_ manuscript, which he was determined secretly to put -into my hands, in order that I might select from it what I judged fit -for publication. The way in which he accomplished his design, and the -charge he gave me, are important items; which, as they are brief, I -shall not withhold from the public. - -It was in the month of August last year, that, early in the morning of -a sultry day, while sauntering along the wide and dirty streets of New -York, I was, just at the corner of Chamber Street and Broadway, struck -by the singular appearance of a male figure, which I at once recognised -as European, though the individual in question had apparently taken the -most studied pains to disguise his origin. His stature was straight -and erect; his neck, already thin and stiff, was, by the aid of a -black cravat, reduced to a still narrower compass; and his hat was -sunk down his neck so as to expose half his forehead. His frock-coat, -despite the heat of the day, was buttoned up to the chin, and yet of -such diminutive dimensions as scarcely to cover any one part of his -body. His trowsers were of the same tight fit as his coat, and the -heels of his boots added at least an inch and a half to his natural -height. His steps were short and quick, deviating neither to the right -nor left from a straight line; and his head, which was thrown back, -seemed to act as a rudder in directing his motion. Thus far, his -appearance differed in nothing from a genuine New-Yorker, except that -his shoulders were very much broader, and his legs much more stout, -than one generally meets with on the borders of the Atlantic. - -I seldom saw an European imitate exactly the particular business-dress -and gait of an American; and in this instance the copy appeared to me -so burlesque, that I felt curious to see the full face of a man whose -body bore such evident imprints of two worlds. I therefore stepped -quickly forward a few paces, and, leaning against the window of a -print-shop, endeavoured to take a front view of my hero. He seemed to -guess my intention, and, desirous of avoiding observation, turned his -head towards the opposite side; which, however, did not prevent me from -recognising at once my friend _the Author_, with a large roll of paper -in his hand. - -“Ah!” exclaimed he, grasping my arm, “I am glad to meet you,--the very -man I wanted to see. Whither are you now going?” - -“To breakfast.” - -“Are you invited?” - -“Not that I know of.” - -“Then I shall accompany you. I have to speak to you on a very important -subject.” - -“I am going to the Turkish divan.” - -“The very place I like,--it’s private, snug, genteel; one can be there -without meeting a reporter.” - -It was now seven o’clock. The sun had risen over an infinite canopy of -dense vapours, through which his rays of burning light were dissolved -into a dark lurid hue which hung like smoke on the red walls of the -buildings. The thermometer stood 98° in the shade. After a short -walk, which, owing to the excessive sultriness of the air, proved -sufficiently fatiguing, we arrived at the coffee-house. The _entrée_ -was somewhat _dérobée_, for the evident purpose of concealing it from -the eyes of the vulgar; and the establishment being on the second -floor, and the staircase dark and narrow, none but one initiated into -the secret could have found the way to it. We ascended the stairs, -opened the folding-doors, and in another moment found ourselves in -an elegant apartment, studded with marble tables and stuffed couches, -in which a sort of _chiaroscuro_--the window-shutters being but half -opened, and the windows concealed by a rich damask drapery,--gave full -effect to the numerous oil-paintings that covered the walls. Some of -these, we were told by the waiter, were of high value, being “_genuine -originals_;” but my friend, who passed for a connoisseur in these -matters, merely tossed up his head, and said he knew all about them. - -“Have you seen the _invoice_?” demanded the waiter. - -“It’s no matter,” replied my friend; “you had better give us some -coffee.” - -We stretched ourselves each on an ottoman (chairs being entirely -banished from the establishment), and “the Author” at once came to the -point. - -“I wanted to hand you my sketch-book,” said he, after heaving a deep -sigh, “containing the journal of a tour through the principal Atlantic -cities, and a few memorandums of my stay in Washington.” - -“Ah! have you finally resolved to publish it?” - -“Not I. I am a married man, related to one of the most aristocratic -families in town, with the prospect of inheriting a fortune. I must not -quarrel with my bread and butter.” - -“Oh! I understand you: you wish me to publish it for you; that’s more -than I can promise to do without seeing the manuscript.” - -“But you may omit what you do not like, or soften down what is likely -to give offence.” - -“That you know is useless. The Americans do not like to be spoken of in -any way. They are so thin-skinned as not even to bear _praise_; they -take it for irony.” - -“I know it. Our first people are like the Venetian senators, who would -not allow the government to be _praised_; because, if one man bestowed -praise, another might be guilty of censure. There is no knowing where -matters will end when once in the mouth of the people.” - -“All this ought to put me the more on my guard: yet, out of friendship -for you, I will make myself a martyr. If _you_ had the courage to -_write_ the truth, _I_ will have the boldness to _publish_ it.” - -“Bravo!” cried my friend, embracing me in a Continental manner, “I see -you are a real German; and, if ever I inherit----” - -“Pray don’t mention it. It will be as much as you can do to pay your -wife’s mantua-maker. You cannot count your father-in-law’s money until -after his death. There are bank liabilities, insurance liabilities, and -Heaven knows what other mercantile and private liabilities! Just give -me the manuscript, and trust the rest to my affection.” - -“You are too kind--too generous!” cried he; “but I must, nevertheless, -give you a few hints. I think you had better omit the account of my -_flirtations_ entirely. It is not in good taste. All such things are -necessarily insipid; and, if Mrs. K--pfsch--rtz should by accident -learn----” - -“She would never forgive you.” - -“It is not _that_ I am most afraid of; but my father-in-law, and the -public----. Besides, my flirtations, as is always the case in the -United States, ended in a most _sensible_ manner, and on that account -are not likely to interest an European reader. The first lady sent me -word by her servant not to trouble myself with writing her any more -letters, as she was determined to send them back unopened. The second -gave me a verbal warning in these terms:--‘I am sorry you should be -in love with me, because papa and mamma think it all nonsense; I do -not say this to hurt your feelings, but merely to prevent you from -taking any unnecessary steps in the matter. I shall, nevertheless, be -always happy to see you as a _friend_.’ And the third ended in the most -legitimate manner,--in my marriage. I think my sketches of fashionable -parties, and in general of the character and principles of our ‘first -society,’ are much more likely to give satisfaction: only soften them -down a little for the sake of Judge Lynch: it would break my heart -to see you tarred and feathered. As regards my account of American -statesmen and politicians, you must calculate your chances of a duel. -A Southerner will fight three times as quick as a Northerner; but the -Northerner will never forgive you. Be careful how you repeat what I -have said about _parsons_; they have more power in the United States -than in any other country. They have the power of breaking any man they -please; for they possess the most complete control over the women. I -have, in this respect, always been of Jean Paul Richter’s opinion, who -despised ‘the _pater-noster globule_ of piety,’ as much as ‘the empty -bubbles of worldly prudence.’ But you know my religious sentiments, -and are best able to judge whether I deserve the name of a Christian. -If I have sometimes been severe upon Unitarianism and Dr. Channing, -it is because I hate cant in any shape, and would oppose any man that -would constitute himself moral pope of the community. The Bostonians, -who, according to their own confession, are a ‘people full of notions,’ -are always ready to deify a man that ‘captivates their fancy;’ and -accordingly have within the narrow confines of their city a whole -Olympus of gods and goddesses, of which the reverend Socinian is the -_Jupiter tonans_. But you will best know how to manage these matters: -only one thing,--forgive the vanity of an author!--you must promise me -as a _conditio sine quâ non_.” - -“And what is that?” - -“Not to make such a thing of it as Fanny Kemble’s journal;--that is, -not to strike out three-fourths of the book, and then publish the rest -all dashes and stars.” - -I gave him my word to leave as few stories untold as possible, and, in -general, to stick to my text as far as was consistent with prudence; -after which he quietly sneaked off to his office, leaving me to do the -best with the manuscript. And now, gentle reader, it is for you to -judge whether I have abused the confidence of my friend. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - Walk to the Battery.--The Breakfast.--Conversation of young travelled - Americans.--Their notions of Politics, Negroes, and Women. - - “He cannot be a perfect man, - Not being try’d and tutor’d in the world: - Experience is by industry achiev’d, - And perfected by the swift course of time.” - - SHAKSPEARE.--_Two Gentlemen of Verona_, Act I. Scene 3. - - -Some years ago, early of a fine morning in the month of July, I was -sauntering with some Southern friends down Broadway towards the -Battery, which forms the eastern extremity of the city of New York. The -night had been most uncomfortably hot, the thermometer ranging above -90°, and the sun’s lurid glare, produced by a thick heavy mist,--the -usual companion of a sultry day in America,--gave to the sleeping city -the appearance of a general conflagration. - -As long as we were in Broadway, not a breath of air was stirring, and -respiration really difficult; but, when we arrived at the Bowling -Green, a delicious sea-breeze imparted new vigour to our exhausted -frames, and increased gradually as we were approaching the Battery. -Arrived at this beautiful spot, the air was quite refreshing, and the -view one of the finest I ever beheld. The harbour was covered with -sails, a rich verdure overspread the neighbouring hills and islands, -and the mingled waters of the ocean and the Hudson, gently rippled by -the breeze, tremblingly reflected the burning orb of day. - -“What a delicious spot this is!” said I; “there is nothing equal to it -in any part of the Union!” - -“Certainly not,” said one of my companions, who had stopped to survey -the beauty of the landscape; “yet how many Americans do you think enjoy -it?” - -“It is certainly not a very fashionable place,” said I. - -“How could it be?” replied he: “all the fashionable people have moved -to the West-end of the town.” - -“Where the atmosphere is not half so pure, the breeze not a quarter so -refreshing as here; and where, instead of this glorious harbour,--this -ocean, the emblem of eternity,--they see nothing but sand,--a barren -desert, interspersed here and there by a block of brick buildings,” -added the other. - -“This our people imagine to be a successful imitation of English -taste,” observed the first. “They forget that the West-end of London -contains magnificent squares and public walks; and that it is in the -immediate neighbourhood of the Parks.” - -“And yet,” said the other, “if to-morrow the Southwark and all the -boroughs east of the Thames were to get into fashion, our New York -aristocracy would imitate the example, and inhabit once more this -beautiful site.” - -“It is true,” resumed I, “_this_ imitation of the English is not a very -happy one; and deserves the more to be ridiculed, as it refers merely -to forms, and not to the substance of things. I am in a habit of taking -a stroll here every evening; but have not, for the space of two months, -met with a single individual known in the higher circles. Foreigners -are the only persons who enjoy this spot.” - -“And do you know why?” interrupted one of my friends: “it is because -our fashionable Americans do not wish to be seen with the people; they -dread that more than the tempest; and it is for this reason all that -is really beautiful in the United States is considered _vulgar_. The -people follow their inclination, and occupy that which they like; while -our exclusives are obliged to content themselves with what is abandoned -by the crowd.” - -“I am not very sorry for that,” said the second; “our exclusives -deserve no better fate. As long as the aristocracy of a country is -willing to associate with the educated classes of the _bourgeoisie_ -they set a premium on talent and the example of good breeding. -This aristocracy here is itself nothing but a wealthy overgrown -_bourgeoisie_, composed of a few families who have been more -successful in trade than the rest, and on that account are now cutting -their friends and relations in order to be considered fashionable.” - -Here we heard the ringing of the bell for the departure of the hourly -steam-boat for Staten Island. As we intended to join a small party -to breakfast at “the Pavilion,” we quickly hurried on board, and in -less than a minute were floating on the water. A fine brass band was -stationed on deck, and the company consisted of a great number of -pretty women with their attendant swains, who thus early escaped from -the heat of the city in order to return to it at shopping-time,--from -twelve till two o’clock. A few lonely “females,” only protected by -huge baskets filled with provisions, had also come “to enjoy the -concord of sweet sounds,” and a trip down the harbour for a quarter -of a dollar, previous to returning home from the market. The whole -company were in excellent spirits, the basket-ladies being arranged on -one side,--unfortunately, however, to windward,--and the ladies and -gentlemen on the other, the band playing involuntary variations to the -tune of “Auld lang syne.” - -In precisely an hour from the time we had left the wharf we landed on -Staten Island, and proceeded at once to the place of _rendezvous_. -This was a large public-house fitted up in a most magnificent style by -Colonel M***, late keeper of the A*** Hotel, one of the few landlords -possessed of the talent of making people comfortable. The building was -very spacious; but its wings were a little too long, and the small -garden in front almost entirely destitute of trees,--a fault from which -no public, and hardly any private, mansion in the United States, can be -said to be entirely exempted. - -The Americans have, indeed, a singular aversion to trees and shrubs -of every description: their highest idea of perfection in a landscape -being an extended plain sown with grass. They consider trees as a mark -of barbarism, and are, in their zeal for civilization, extirpating -them wherever they find them. The hills and islands in the harbour of -Boston, which were once studded with the majestic pine and the gnarled -oak, are now completely shorn: the city of Albany, built on a gentle -declivity once covered with variegated wood, is daily becoming more and -more flat and less shady; the fashionable inhabitants paying more for -levelling the ground, and felling the trees, than for the erection of -their dwellings. The beautiful trees on the shores of the Monongahela -and the Ohio are, at an enormous expense, destroyed root and branch, -to give the inhabitants of Pittsburgh the benefit of light and air; -and even the “old liberty tree” of Boston, with all its historical -associations and recollections, stands no more. How singularly this -taste of the Americans contrasts with that of the English, who, after -burning and sacking the colony of New Jersey, placed a sentinel near -the tree under which William Penn had concluded the treaty with the -Indians! - -The fault of the garden apart, the Pavilion of Staten Island, or “the -Brighton Pavilion,” as it is sometimes called, offers really a fine -and healthy retreat from the noise and dirt of New York; and this the -more so, as, from its elevation, it is accessible on all sides to -the sea-breeze. We ascended a few steps, and found ourselves at once -in a capacious bar-room, fitted up in the best American style. Labels -of all sorts, and in all languages, stuck on innumerable bottles -placed at small distances from one another, and interlined with lemons -and oranges, whose bright and pale gold was again relieved by the -dark-green hock, and the silver-headed champaign bathed in ice. By the -side of these stood the grave and manly Carolina madeira, the fiery -sherry, and the sombre port. For the lovers of condensation there were -also old French cognac, Irish and Scotch whisky, and an ominous-looking -bottle, whose contents portended to be the original beverage of Van -Tromp. The favourite drink, however, seemed to be mint-julep; for a -huge mass of ice and a forest of mint, together with two large bottles -of French and peach brandy, gave, alas! but too positive proofs of the -incapability of the landlord to maintain the balance of power among -spirits so different in action and principle. - -The bar was thronged, even at this early hour, with young men from -sixteen to twenty-four years of age, for whom the busy bar-keeper -was preparing ice-punch, mint-juleps, port and madeira _sangarie_, -apple-toddy, ginsling, &c. with a celerity of motion of which I had -heretofore scarcely seen an example. This man evidently understood the -value of time, and was fast rising into respectability; for he was -making money more quickly than the “smartest” broker in Wall Street. - -“Mr. S*** and Mr. P***?” said he, as he saw us enter; and, on being -answered in the affirmative, touched a bell, which was instantly -answered by a servant. “Show these gentlemen to No. 3.” - -We were led into a large room, in which from fifteen to twenty persons -might have been assembled, exciting their appetite for breakfast by -drinking juleps. - -“I present you a new friend,” said one of my companions. “I hope you -will be gratified with making his acquaintance. Monsieur de *** from -Germany.” - -Hereupon all the gentlemen rose, one by one, and shook hands with me; -each of them saying, “How d’ye do? Very glad to see you.” At last one -of them, by way of entering into conversation, told me that he was -exceedingly glad to meet with a gentleman from that country. “I have -myself,” said he, “passed a long time in Germany.” - -“What part of Germany?” demanded I. - -“Oh, no particular part,” replied he; “only principally up and down -the Rhine. Capital country that!--excellent hock!--fine historical -associations!--excellent people the Germans!” - -“I am very glad you liked them,” said I. - -“Yes, indeed, I always did. What noble castles those! How do you call -that beautiful ancient castle opposite Coblenz? Erin-bright-in-steen?” - -“You mean Ehrenbreitenstein,” said I; “that is a Prussian fortress.” - -“No matter what you call it,” said he, “it is a splendid specimen of -architecture. I wish we had something like it in this country.” - -“I really do not see the use of it,” said I. - -“But I do,” said he; “we want a little chivalry of that sort,--our -people are altogether too prosaic.” - -“They are too much occupied with politics,” observed another gentleman. - -“Altogether too much, sir,” repeated the admirer of Germany. - -“But they say it is all for their own good; it improves their -condition.” - -“I don’t want to know their condition. Heaven save me from politics!” - -“It is certainly not a flourishing trade in this country,” said I. - -“Not only that, sir; but it is not a respectable one.” - -“And why not?” - -“Because every blackguard meddles with it.” - -“But not every blackguard is successful in it.” - -“Quite the reverse; it is only the blackguard who is successful.” - -“That’s an old one,” cried an elderly-looking gentleman. - -“But who will talk politics on a hot day without taking a julep? Hollo, -John! a dozen fresh juleps, with plenty of ice,--and rather stiff, mind -ye.” - -“It’s no use to talk politics to us, sir,” observed a Mr. *** of -Baltimore, addressing me in a calm, tranquil voice, which had something -of the tone of advice and condescension in it; “we are no longer green.” - -“What do you mean by that?” - -“I mean precisely what I say,” replied he. “We have all more or less -passed the age in which respectable Americans take an interest in -politics; and are, thank God! not yet sufficiently old and decrepit to -recur to it once more because we are unfit for everything else.” - -“Yes, yes!” interrupted a highly respectable gentleman, whom I had -known in Boston, and who had a high reputation for being fond of cards; -“a man never takes to politics in this country unless he is ruined in -business. I have seen a hundred instances of it in my own city. Let a -man have a falling-out with work, and he is sure to turn patriot.” - -“Because patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel, as Johnson -said,” remarked a young barrister, visibly contented with having had an -opportunity of exhibiting his erudition. - -“Happy country this!” observed one of my companions, “in which every -scoundrel turns patriot!” - -“Say, rather, in which every patriot is a scoundrel,” rejoined the -lawyer. - -“Why, Tom!” exclaimed the Bostonian, “you have broken out in a new -place!” - -“Why, a man will say a good thing now and then,” replied the -professional man. “But where the d--l is that nigger with the juleps? -I’ll be hanged if a person can get waited upon in New York without -bribing the servants!” - -Here the waiter entered. - -“What have you been about, sirrah? It’s more than a quarter of an hour -since that gentleman” (pointing to the Baltimorian) “asked for some -juleps. Can’t you move quicker?” - -“I goin’ as fast as I kin,” grinned the negro; “but dere are too many -gem’men at de bar.” - -“I find,” observed a grave-looking New-Yorker, who until now had not -opened his mouth, except for the purpose of admitting the julep, “that -our black servants are getting worse and worse every day ever since -that bigoted scoundrel T*** has commenced preaching abolition. Those -black devils have always been a nuisance; but now ‘a respectable white -man’ can hardly walk up and down Broadway of a Sunday afternoon without -being jostled off the side-walk by one of their desperate gangs.” - -“And it is still worse in Philadelphia,” observed Major ***, “owing to -the philanthropy of our quakers. One of those black beasts, not more -than a week ago, actually eyed my sister through a quizzing-glass as -she was walking in Chestnut-street, accompanied by her younger sister.” - -“Good God!” cried the New-Yorker, “has it come to this? Must our -respectable females be insulted in the streets by a set of dastardly -slaves!” - -“I can hardly believe it,” said a Virginian, who appeared to be -displeased with the turn the conversation had taken. “The example must -have been set him by some white person. Your Philadelphia dandies have, -the whole live-long day, no other amusement but staring women out of -countenance.” - -“Well explained!” ejaculated a young man who had just returned from -Paris; “a negro is a mere ape,--he is but a link between man and -monkey. _C’est en effet un singe dégénéré._” - -“Witty dog!” said the Philadelphian; “just returned from France!” - -“For Heaven’s sake!” cried the Virginian, “let us not talk about -negroes and abolition. I am resolved never to mention the subject again -to friend or foe. If any of those emancipation preachers ever comes to -my plantation, I have left the strictest order with my overseer to hang -him on the spot. My neighbours are resolved to do the same, and I trust -to God the custom will become general throughout the country.” - -“Bravo!” exclaimed the Philadelphian,--“Virginia for ever!” - -“You may well drink to Virginia,” exclaimed the gentleman from that -state; “it is the pearl of the Union!” - -“So it is, so it is!” shouted the company. “It has produced the -greatest men in the United States!” - -“George Washington!” cried the Virginian. - -“George Washington!” echoed the company. - -“Thomas Jefferson!” continued the Virginian. - -“Don’t mention him, for mercy’s sake!” bellowed the Philadelphian; -“that vile blasphemer!--that infidel scoundrel!--that godless father of -democracy, who has been the ruin of our country.” - -“In what manner has he ruined it?” demanded I. - -“By introducing that vilest of curses, universal suffrage.” - -“But I see the country prosper more and more every year.” - -“You do not see far enough, sir,” said he. “You do not understand the -working of universal suffrage. An example, perhaps, may illustrate the -case. You may have heard of Mr. B***, who is one of our first citizens, -has always been at the head of the very first society, and is worth, at -least, half a million of dollars in bank stock, independent of a very -respectable real estate. Well, sir: this same Mr. B***, at our last -election, went himself to the ballot-box, and, with his own hand, put -in his vote as if he were one of our simplest citizens. Was not that -republican? Was there ever a better republican than Mr. B***?” - -“Certainly not. But what has that to do with the theory of universal -suffrage, except that he was obliged to do so if he wished to vote at -all?” - -“Hear me out, sir; hear me out!” shouted the Philadelphian. “Scarcely -had Mr. B*** deposited his vote, when one of your regular ‘whole-hog, -hurrah-for-Jackson men,’ who, according to every appearance, was not -worth five dollars in the world, stepped up, and, right within hearing -of our Mr. B***, told the officer with the most impudent sneer that he -intended to destroy Mr. B***’s vote. These, sir, are the consequences -of universal suffrage.” - -“And then people wonder if we are not seen at the ballot-boxes,” said -the New-Yorker. “Who the d--l would scramble up among a parcel of -ragamuffins in order to exercise a privilege shared by every pauper! I -would as lief do common militia duty.” - -“What you have told of your friend Mr. B*** in Philadelphia has -happened to my friend Mr. H*** in Baltimore,” cried the Virginian. - -“And to myself,” added the Bostonian; “and since that time I am -determined never to disgrace myself again by voting at an election, -except to oblige a friend.” - -“Jefferson has ruined the country!” shouted the whole company. - -“I only wonder,” said one of my friends, “he has left sufficient brandy -in the country for you to get drunk on.” - -“We get that from France,” rejoined the witty gentleman; “the -Americans produce nothing but whisky and rum, and those only of the -most inferior quality. Whenever we want anything decent, we are obliged -to send for it from abroad.” - -“That’s a fact,” added the Bostonian; “and pay the dealer a hundred per -cent, profit on it.” - -“And, after all, get it adulterated,” said the New-Yorker. - -“I cannot conceive,” remarked the Philadelphian, “how a gentleman of -fortune can possibly live in this country.” - -“He is a great fool if he does,” replied the French wit. “England -for a rich man, and France for a man of moderate fortune! that’s my -motto; and as for us,--I mean the higher classes of Americans,--we -are everywhere at home--except in the United States. _En Amérique les -étrangers sont chez eux, tandis que les Américains ne sont chez eux que -quand ils sont à l’étranger._” - -Here the company burst into a horse-laugh. - -“Just returned from Paris,” whispered the Philadelphian; “capital -fellow!” - -“Won’t you translate it to me?” asked the Bostonian; “I used to know -French when I went to school, but I have forgotten it since.” (With a -significant look.) “You know our girls don’t speak it.” - -“‘Strangers are in America at home, while the Americans themselves are -only at home when they are abroad,’ said our friend Charles, and he is -certainly right; for America, ever since we are overrun by Irish and -German paupers, is not fit for a gentleman to live in.” - -“If I had my own way,” observed the Gallicised American, “I would never -live in any other place but Paris.” - -“And I in London,” remarked the Bostonian. - -“Our tastes are _so_ different,” rejoined the former; “you like -everything that is English,--I love all that is French. Besides, in -France one gets so much more easily into society; the English, you -know, are ridiculously exclusive.” - -“But have we not a minister in London? Can we not always be presented -at court?” - -“Not always; there are too many applicants.” - -“But it is precisely the same thing in France. One of my acquaintances -wrote me from Paris, that the American minister, during the space -of one year, received no less than fifteen hundred applications for -presentation to their French majesties.” - -“That may be: but in England one is often obliged to put up with the -society of the middle classes, or at best with a sort of respectable -gentry; while in France we never associate with anything less than -a count or a marquis. My aunt would not speak to a _bourgeois_! She -is descended from the Princess of M----y, which, you know, is one of -the most ancient families of France; and likes Paris so much, that I -don’t think she will ever return to the United States. She can’t bear -America!” - -“She would not be wise if she did,” observed my friend, half -ironically; “she receives a great deal more attention there than she -would at home.” - -“So do all our women,” observed the lawyer. “Our people do not know how -to treat them, and our women do not know how to take advantage of their -position; they are only fit ‘to suckle fools and chronicle small beer.’” - -“Very well brought in by our professional friend!” cried the Bostonian. -“I say, Tom! what did your mother say when you left home to practise -law in this city?” - -“She gave me her blessing, and told me, ‘Go, my son, and improve the -talent God has given you, and you cannot fail to make money.’ It was -very kind in her, poor soul! she little expected I would draw on her -regularly every quarter.” - -“But how do you spend your time,” demanded the Bostonian, “if you do -not practise law?” - -“Literature, literature!” exclaimed the lawyer, emptying his glass. “We -all dabble, more or less, in that.” - -“True,” rejoined the Bostonian, “I forgot all about literature.” - -“What o’clock is it?” demanded the child of Paris, stretching himself -with the air of an _homme blasé_. - -“Nearly ten,” answered my friend. - -“Then I wish we might have breakfast, as I have promised to call upon a -young lady at one.” - -“Don’t you get yourself into a scrape, Charles.” - -“Don’t you be concerned about me,” replied Charles; “I have lived too -long in Paris to be easily taken in.” - -“But our women are not like the French.” - -“That’s one reason why I don’t like them. Their everlasting -pretensions, their air of superiority, and, above all, that imperious -spirit which receives all our _petits soins_ as a mere tribute which -is due to them, have often completely disgusted me. I like to be at my -ease with a woman; it’s so much more natural.” - -“You are not singular in that,” remarked the gentleman from New York; -“I have had the same taste ever since I was a boy of sixteen.” - -“What! without having been in Europe?” - -“Certainly; but then I was brought up in New York, which, you know, is -a little Europe of itself. I have heard Frenchmen say, that, next to -Paris, there is nothing like it in the world.” - -“Pooh!” cried the Bostonian, “I’d rather live in Boston ten times over; -and so would you, if you knew it as well as I do; but that, you know, -takes time.” - -“Don’t talk to me about Boston,” said the Philadelphian; “your women -don’t even know how to dress.” - -“And run up bills at the mantua-makers,” rejoined the Bostonian. - -“The prettiest women in the United States are in Baltimore,” observed -the Baltimorian. - -“Say rather _girls_,” interrupted the Gallo-American; “I have never -seen a handsome woman in America yet: if there were one, you would not -see her in society; she would stay at home nursing her babies.” - -“And send her young daughters into company for our boys to dance with.” - -“And dance they must, because they can’t talk.” - -“What would you have a girl of sixteen talk of, pray?” - -“Nothing that I care for. When I was in Paris, I only talked to married -women. They alone understand the most delicate allusions, listen with -dignity to our affecting tales, and are grateful for the slightest -attention, without expecting an immediate proposal and saddling -themselves on you for life.” - -“That would not do in this country,” said the Bostonian with great -earnestness; “our women are brought up in a different manner.” - -“Why, upon my word!” exclaimed the Philadelphian with a horse-laugh, -“our Boston friend talks to us as gravely as a New England -schoolmaster. If you don’t leave off some of these ridiculous Yankee -notions, you’ll never cut a figure in the fashionable world. But you -must excuse him, gentlemen; a certain puritanical air always sticks to -these ‘Boston folks’ even after they have turned rakes.” - -“Oh! he would get over that too, quick enough,” cried the lover of -France, “if he were to stay a year or two in Paris. But, upon my -honour! I cannot stay for breakfast; Miss L*** would never speak to me -again.” - -“I thought you only cared for married women?” remarked the lawyer. - -“Neither do I care for anybody else,” said the Frenchman; “but you know -our girls, who have nothing to do but to walk Broadway in the forenoon, -and to go to a party in the evening, govern society; and, if one does -not wish to be considered an absolute boor, one must humour them.” - -“Then you consider your civility a mere act of duty,--a sacrifice -brought to society?” - -“Precisely so; and in the same light it is viewed by Miss L***.” - -“The d--l take your attention then! When I want to pay my court to a -woman, I do not want to do so in public.” - -“Miss L***, I assure you, courts nothing but satin velvet and gros de -Naples. She will to-day, with her own soft hands, caress every piece of -French silk which has passed the Hook for a week past; and I shall have -the honour of accompanying her to every fashionable shop in Broadway.” - -“Delightful occupation this!” exclaimed the lawyer; “I had rather read -law.” - -“Or drink juleps,” cried the Philadelphian. - -“Or play cards,” said the New-Yorker. - -“Or go to meeting,” added the Bostonian. - -“You may do what you like; but Miss L*** is worth a hundred thousand -dollars if she is worth a cent; and she has sworn never to marry, -except an European or an American who has remained long enough in -Europe to become civilized.” - -“Delightful creature that!” cried the Bostonian: “then I presume I -should stand no chance with her at all.” - -“_C’est selon. Vous êtes beau garçon, appartenez à une bonne famille; -vous avez de quoi vivre: mais vous chiquez, et, surtout vous crachez, -et Mademoiselle L*** ne pardonne nullement de pareils forfaits._” - -Here the finished Parisian stepped before the looking-glass, tightened -his cravat so as to give himself a colour, drew the pale emaciated -fingers of his right hand a dozen times through his front hair, studied -the most becoming position of his hat, arranged most tastefully -two large curls which concealed the cavities of his temples, put -on his French kid gloves, exercised himself in balancing a small -switch,--which altogether did not take him more than thirty-five -minutes,--and then left the room as if he had never known any one of -its occupants. - -“Clever fellow that!” exclaimed the Philadelphian: “spent all his -father’s property in learning how to live, and is now marrying one of -our richest girls.” - -“Capital hit!” cried the Bostonian. - -“Equal to a profession,” ejaculated the lawyer. - -“Pray, what may your profession be worth a-year?” asked the New-Yorker. - -“The profession is worth a great deal, but I myself get nothing by it,” -replied the barrister. - -“How long is it since you practised law?” - -“Five years.” - -“And how much did you make by it?” - -“Twenty-five dollars, or thereabouts.” - -“How much rent do you pay for your office?” - -“One hundred dollars per annum.” - -“And what do you give to the boy that sweeps it?” - -“One dollar a month.” - -“Why don’t you rather take him into partnership?” - -“He would scorn the idea.” - -“And how many lawyers like you are there in New York?” demanded my -friend. - -“Between three and four hundred, I suppose; most of them sons of our -first citizens. All the law business is done by half-a-dozen vulgar -upstarts who come here from the country, and whom the public, God knows -why, is taking into favour. The profession of physic is a great deal -better; the veriest humbug is making money by it.” - -“Because dead people tell no tales, I presume?” - -“Not so much for that, as because a physician often hits where he -strikes at random; and because, when a physician is not doing well with -his professional practice, he is always sure to make a respectable -living by quackery.” - -“Provided he has money enough to pay for advertising in the newspapers. -But then physicians do not rank nearly as high in society as lawyers.” - -“Neither should they: our profession is, _par excellence_, that of a -gentleman.” - -“And I can assure you,” interrupted the New-Yorker, “that, in this -city, there is no higher rank in society than that ‘of a rich man.’ I -would rather have the reputation of Mr. A*** than that of our learned -chancellor K***.” - -“So would I,” rejoined the lawyer. “Mr. A*** must now be ‘pretty -considerably’ richer than Stephen Gerard ever was; and when a man is -once rich, you know, he can do everything.” - -“I believe myself,” said the New-Yorker, “that we are a ‘leetle’ too -much given to money-making.” - -“And that every person connected with trade is too easily admitted into -our first society,” added the Philadelphian. - -“In what other country,” exclaimed the Virginian, “would you see a -parcel of drummers or clerks admitted into the company of statesmen and -legislators?” - -“In none,” interrupted my friend, “except where merchants and their -agents hold a higher rank than statesmen and legislators; in which -it is a disgrace to be a politician, and a reproach to be called a -patriot.” - -At this moment one of the waiters announced breakfast; which agreeable -news put us all into the best possible humour, and, amid the hilarity -excited by hock and champaign, we soon forgot fashions, politics, -professions, and even the riches of this world. - -While we had thus been wasting our time, a hundred ships had probably -discharged their cargoes; a thousand emigrants from all parts of the -globe had landed with big hearts and stout hopes to realise their -dreams of the free and happy West. Many of them might have already -commenced their peregrination towards the Mississippi, where their -friends and relatives who preceded them were already clearing the -wilderness, or enjoying the fruits of their labour. Fortunes might have -been lost or won, merchants established or ruined, politicians raised -or undone. Many an enterprising pioneer might have formed a plan for -a new settlement; while hundreds of others were probably employed in -transporting the produce of the fertilized West to the seaports of the -Atlantic. Wealth and misery had perhaps been expected by thousands with -the arrival of the mail or packet. Fathers might have been separated -from their children,--husbands from their wives,--in the eager and -universal quest of fortune, and many a heart left bleeding with the -loss of all it held dear; while others, happier than these, might have -greeted the unexpected return of their friends and relatives. - -Is it not strange, thought I, before I had drunk the first glass of -champaign, that in a country which more than any other convinces -one of the vanity of human pursuits,--in which wealth, honour, and -distinction are mere bubbles floating on the surface of society,--men -should be more eager after aristocratic distinctions, than where these -are founded on an historical basis, and in accordance with the customs -of the people? Such, however, is the irony of Fate, inseparable from -nations as from individuals. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - Return to the City.--Arrival of the London Packet.--Reception of the - Passengers.--American Speculations on an English Lord.--Introduction - to a Fashionable Boarding-house.--A New England Minerva.--A Belle.--A - Lady from Virginia.--Conduct of Fashionable young Ladies towards - Gentlemen of an inferior standing.--Confusion produced by the - Dinner-bell. - - _Duke Senior._--“What fool is this?” - - _Jaques._--“O worthy fool! One that has been a courtier, - And says, if ladies be but young and fair, - They have the gift to know it.” - - _As You Like It_, Act. II. Scene 7. - - -On our return to the city, the steam-boat was quite animated. The -packet-ship T*** had arrived from London, and, having reported a -clean bill of health, was permitted to land her passengers. Our boat, -therefore, went alongside of her, and was greeted by loud cheers from -the steerage passengers, who, dressed in their Sunday’s best, were -crowding the bow, gangway, and even the rigging of the vessel, eagerly -awaiting their long-hoped-for delivery from imprisonment. - -The company on board of our boat, which, besides ourselves, consisted -of a dozen gentlemen and nearly as many ladies, returned the salute -in a dignified manner by a wild stare of amazement; until, turning -to the captain of the packet, who had jumped on the bulwarks of our -boat to assist in landing his passengers, a fashionably dressed lady, -accompanied by a gentleman, inquired what sort of _cabin_ passengers he -had brought with him? - -“Mr. and Mrs. ***,” replied the captain, who, from his attention to the -inquirer, appeared to have the honour of her acquaintance. - -“Don’t know them,” said the gentleman; then turning to the lady, whom I -judged to be his wife, “do _you_ know them?” - -“I am sure I never heard their _names_ before,” said the lady, tossing -up her head. - -“Mrs. *** and two children,” continued the captain. - -“The wife of that vulgar auctioneer,” remarked the lady, “that wanted -to outdo everybody. Well, she will find a sad change; her husband -has failed since she was gone, and is said not to pay ten cents in a -dollar.” - -“Mr. ***,” continued the captain. - -“What sort of a person is he?” demanded the gentleman. - -“La! don’t you know him?” cried the lady: “it’s that grocer who made -fifty thousand dollars in a coffee speculation, and has ever since been -trying to get into the first society; but did not succeed on account -of that blubber-faced wife of his. They say that is the reason he went -to Europe. Poor wretch! he probably thought people would, in the mean -time, forget that he was a grocer.” - -“Mr. and Mrs. *** of Baltimore,” added the captain. - -“Ah! our old friends, Mr. and Mrs. ***. What a delightful creature that -Mrs. *** is! I used to be quite intimate with her at New Port; she -always used to have such a choice set around her.” - -“Lady *** and her daughter from London,” resumed the captain. - -“Lady *** from London!” exclaimed the whole company,--“where is she?” - -“It’s that fine-looking woman there, standing by the side of that young -lady dressed in black.” (Here the gentlemen applied their glasses.) - -“Both equally handsome,” cried a young man. “Really English! excellent -fall of the shoulders!” - -“Only the bust a little too full,” remarked the lady, “which is -generally the fault of the English women; and, besides, they have such -enormously large feet.” - -“Who is with them?” inquired one of the gentlemen. - -“Captain *** of the **th dragoons, who I understand is brother to Sir -***.” - -“I presume they have brought their servants with them?” observed the -lady. - -“Two male servants, a lady’s-maid, and the governess of the young lady.” - -“Then they must be rich.” - -“They have letters to Mr. A***, to Mr. and Mrs. ***, and to many of our -first people.” - -Here the lady whispered something to the gentleman, which, as far as I -could understand, sounded like this: “We shall see them at Mrs. A***’s, -and you must try to get introduced to them; it will be just the thing -for us if we should ever go to England.” (Aloud to the captain,) “Have -you brought some more English people?” - -“Lots of them,” replied the captain; “Mr. *** and Mr. *** of -Manchester, Mr. *** of Liverpool, Mr. *** and Mr. *** of London,--all -in the cotton business.” - -“We don’t want to know _them_,” said the lady; “business people, I -presume,--full of pretensions and vulgar English prejudices. Have you -brought no other _genteel_ persons besides Lady *** and Captain ***?” - -“Oh, yes,” replied the sailor, who began to be tired of the -interrogatory; “a young sprig of nobility, Lord ***, as they call him.” - -“I am _so_ sorry,” said the lady with a bewitching smile, “to trouble -you _so_ much, captain; but really I should be _so_ much obliged to you -if you were to show me the young lord.” - -“It’s that chap for’ard,” said the captain, “talking to the engineer.” - -“Then I presume he is a Whig lord,” remarked the lady. - -“I don’t care a d--n,” muttered the captain as he was going away, -“whether he be Whig, Tory, or Radical, so he pays his passage, and -behaves himself like a gentleman.” - -Our deck was now covered with more than a hundred and fifty people, -principally English and Irish, among whom there was a great number -of women and children. Those that had come over in the steerage -confined themselves for a short time to the forward deck; but after -they had paid their fare, and ascertained that they were charged as -much as those who occupied the chairs and settees that were placed -aft the wheels, they gradually came one by one to partake of the same -privilege, and, though not without hesitation, took their seats -among the better dressed part of the company. This was the signal for -a general move; the ladies forming themselves into little sets by -themselves, with a portion of the gentlemen standing by their side, -and the unencumbered part of the latter walking the opposite side of -the deck. But the young progeny of England and Ireland, emboldened by -their success, disturbed them a second time by walking the deck in -the opposite direction; and one of them, a swaggering youth of about -nineteen, actually had the impudence of addressing a gentleman who had -been a _cabin_ passenger on board of the packet. - -The gentleman answered without looking at him, and in so abrupt a -manner, that the youth stole away very much like a dog that has been -kicked by its master. - -“These are the consequences of our glorious institutions!” exclaimed -the gentleman, turning towards Lord ***, who had taken his station at a -little distance from him, and had evidently observed the reception his -poor countryman had met with: “this fellow here would not have dared -to speak to _us_ while on board of the packet; and now he is scarcely -in sight of the American soil before he thinks himself just as good as -any body else. Did your lordship observe the insolent manner in which -he came up to speak to me?” - -His lordship gave a slight nod of assent. - -“These people come here with the notion that all men in America are -free and equal; and that, provided they pay the same money, they are -just as good as our first people.” - -“Hem!” - -“But they soon find out the difference. People think there is no -aristocracy in this country; but they are mistaken,--there are just as -many grades of society in America as in England.” - -“Indeed!” - -“Yes, my lord, and even more; and the distinctions between them are -kept up much more rigidly than in England.” - -“I dare say they are.” - -“Yes, my lord: you will never see a gentleman belonging to our first -society mix by any chance with the second, or one of the second with -the third, and so on.” - -“So!” - -“And if it were not for these intruders, who come here by thousands and -outvote us at the elections, our country would be just as refined as -England.” - -“I dare say.” - -“Your lordship does not seem to believe it; but you will yourself see -the progress we have made in the arts and sciences.” - -“I have heard some of my friends say the same thing.” - -“Why, my lord, New York is a second London; and, if it goes on -increasing in the same manner as it has for the last fifty years, will -soon have a million of inhabitants.” - -“Ay, ay!” - -“And Philadelphia is nearly as large.” - -“Ah!” - -“Yes, my lord; and the society of Philadelphia is even more select than -that of New York.” - -Here his lordship yawned. - -“But the most literary society is in Boston. Boston is the Athens of -the United States.” - -“Is it a _nice_ place?” inquired his lordship. - -“Why, I do not exactly know what your lordship means by a nice place; -but it is one of the handsomest places in the United States.” - -“Hem!” - -“It has a most beautiful common.” - -“Ay, ay!” - -“And a most magnificent state-house; from the top of which you have a -most superb view of the neighbouring country.” - -“So!” - -“And not more than three miles from it is Harvard College, the most -ancient and distinguished university in the country.” - -Here his lordship indulged himself in a very long yawn. - -“With a library of more than forty thousand volumes.” - -“Is that all?” - -“Why, my lord, this is a young country; and, considering all -circumstances, I think we have done better than perhaps any other -nation would have done in our place.” - -“No doubt of it,” replied his lordship. - -“Indeed, my lord, I think we can challenge history for a comparison.” - -“Just so.” - -“And, if we were only left alone, we would do better still: but we are -completely overrun by foreign paupers; they come here in herds, while -men of high rank” (here he bowed most gracefully) “are but seldom -induced to visit our country.” - -His lordship gave a slight token of acknowledgement. - -“And I trust, my lord, you will not repent of your resolution, and the -fatigues of a long and tedious voyage.” - -The young nobleman nodded. - -“You will find the Americans a very hospitable people.” - -“I have always heard so.” - -“And, though they cannot entertain you in your own style, they will do -their best to please you.” - -Another nod of his lordship. - -“Your lordship must not forget that we are a young country. When we -shall be as old as England, we shall perhaps do better.” - -“I don’t doubt it.” - -“Your lordship is going to put up at the Astor House?” - -“I do not know yet.” - -“Oh! your lordship must put up at the Astor House; it’s the only decent -public house in New York. I shall myself put up there; and if your -lordship will do me the honour----” - -“I will see by and by; my servant has taken the list of the best hotels -in New York.” - - * * * * * - -“Did you ever see such toad-eating?” exclaimed one of my companions, -as we landed on the wharf and were walking towards Broadway,--“such -a compound of arrogance and submissiveness, haughty insolence to an -inferior, and cringing flattery towards a greater person than himself, -as this man?” - -“He certainly behaved very foolishly,” said the second; “the British -nobleman did not take the least notice of him.” - -“And did you see,” said the first, “how every eye was fixed upon that -lady and her daughter, as if they were the eighth wonder of the world?” - -“I saw,” replied the other, “that they were embarrassed by attracting -so much notice.” - -“Did you not understand the captain to say that they brought letters to -Mr. A*** and to Mrs. S***?” - -“I certainly did.” - -“Then they will be the town-talk for a month, and the subject of -conversation for six months after, throughout the Union; and whoever -is not introduced to them will be considered as vulgar: in short, they -will be the fashion throughout the country, until somebody of a still -higher rank shall come and eclipse them. Were you in the country when -the Duke of Saxe Weimar was here?” - -“Yes; but I was not in the habit of going much into society.” - -“Then you missed a great deal. You ought to have seen the cringing and -fawning of these people, and how prodigal they were of the title of -‘Serene Highness,’ which, as a younger son, was hardly ever given him -in Europe.” - -“I know,” said I, “that he was actually worshipped in the Atlantic -cities; and that Mr. W*** and Mr. D*** of Philadelphia were very angry -at him for introducing their names and professions in his book, without -mentioning that they were gentlemen.” - -“The same, perhaps, that presided at the dinner given him by the -_élite_ of the German population?” - -“The same, if I mistake not,” said I. “I yet remember the witty remark -of a German emigrant who was present at the banquet. ‘These Germans,’ -said he, ‘behave like so many dogs who do not know what to do for joy -at having found their lost master.’” - -“And what do you think was the cause of his triumphal entry into every -one of our large cities? Nothing in the world but the desire of our -exclusives to see a duke,--to shake hands with a duke,--to talk with -a duke,--to have a duke to dine with them,--and, above all things, to -have a claim on the duke’s reciprocal favours in case they should meet -him in Europe. I know not what the duke’s literary pretensions are; -but, if Walter Scott had written a book on America, it could not have -made a greater sensation than the duke’s.” - -“You ought to make an allowance for the novelty of the thing,” said I. -“As yet, but few dukes have visited the United States.” - -“If their wonderment and toad-eating were confined to dukes and earls,” -replied he, “I would willingly pardon them; but they worship everything -in the shape of a nobleman, until, by continually talking about -nobility, they imagine themselves to belong to it. I wish all the poor -nobles of the Continent of Europe would come here to get married, and -to improve their estates. But they would have to play a difficult part -in order to conceal their poverty. A knight without a castle does not -excite the imagination of an American damsel.” - -“I yet remember,” observed my other companion, “how they pestered old -Lafayette with the title of ‘marquis,’ as if his birth could enhance -the sublimity of his character.” - -“You ought to have been in ***,” remarked the first, “when, a year or -two ago, a rumour was spread that Prince Puckler Muskau had arrived -in the country. A mustachoed _Russian_ actually had the good fortune -to be mistaken for him, it being understood that the prince wished to -preserve the strictest _incognito_. There was no end to the attention -bestowed on him by ladies and gentlemen, and to the particular -manœuvres that were made in order to obtain an honourable mention in -his book, until the poor fellow, tired of the obsequiousness of his -admirers, resolved to inform them that they had been humbugged. There -is but one offset to this species of toad-eating, and that is the -somewhat too sturdy independence of our lower classes.” - -“That I willingly grant,” said the first. “I know that the Duke of Saxe -Weimar narrowly escaped a beating in the western country for presuming -to hire a whole stage-coach for himself and his valet. Our country -has not been settled long enough, and the conditions of men are too -rapidly changing, for any one class to tolerate the peculiar manners -and customs of the others.” - -“Do you know the story about the duke and the New York -hackney-coachman?” - -“I have heard so many anecdotes about the duke, that I cannot tell to -which you refer.” - -“Why, they say that the duke went one evening in a hackney-coach to a -party, and that the next day the coachman--or the driver, as he is here -called--came for his money, asking the duke whether he was the _man_ he -had drove the night before; and, on being answered in the affirmative, -informing him that ‘_he_ was the _gentleman_ what drove him,’ and that -he had come for his half-dollar.” - -“_Se non è vero, è ben trovato._ One thing, however, is certain, that -in our attentions to strangers we seldom find the proper medium. If a -man of title comes among us, the higher classes will caress and cajole -him much beyond what the proudest nobleman could expect in any part -of Europe; while, among the lower classes, he will often meet with -a spirit of resistance which neither kind words nor money will be -entirely able to overcome. Let him take the arithmetical medium between -the two, and he will have no right to complain.” - -“And I can assure you,” said I, “that in my own heart I have a much -higher respect for the common American, who, in his conduct towards -strangers, is solely guided by his own rude notion of dignity, than for -the _educated gentleman_, who measures everything, and himself into the -bargain, by the standard of another country.” - -“Agreed! agreed!” cried my two companions; “for the one, however -barbarous, has within him the elements of a national character; while -the other, however civilized, is but a mutilated European.” - -We had now come up as far as the Park, and, perceiving by the city-hall -clock that it was half-past two, one of my companions, under the plea -of an engagement, turned towards Chamber-street; while the other, -with whom I had promised to dine, invited me to accompany him to his -lodgings. - -“Come,” said he, “we have but half an hour before dinner;[1] let me -introduce you to the ladies of our boarding-house. It’s one of the most -agreeable ones in town, and always full of transient people.” - -“I confess I hate your boarding-houses,” replied I. “They are neither -private nor public; one is deprived in them of most of the conveniences -of regular inns, and yet not sufficiently quiet to be able to say one -has got a home.” - -“Are you married?” demanded my friend. - -“Why should you ask me that question?” - -“Because you talk like a married man;--they are the best things in the -world for bachelors.” - -“On what account, pray?” demanded I. - -“On account of the facilities they afford in becoming acquainted with -ladies and gentlemen without an introduction; and because they are the -nicest places for hearing the scandal of the town.” - -“That’s precisely the reason why I dislike them.” - -“If you are married, you are right; because a boarding-house is for a -married woman what a boarding-school is for a young lady: one spoils -the other by precept and example. Scarcely have the gentlemen left the -house after breakfast to follow their respective avocations, before the -women form themselves into sets in their several bed-chambers to have a -talk.” - -“That’s the most horrible practice I know, especially as young ladies -are admitted to them, and the conversation there turns but too -frequently on our foibles.” - -“Your three-dollar boarding-houses,” rejoined my friend, “are capital -things. One gets plenty to eat for little money; turns in at an -early hour in the evening in order to rise early in the morning; -and, when the men are about their business, the women attend to -their own affairs. Besides, all our cheap boarding-houses are small, -accommodating seldom more than two or three families, including that -of the landlady; but your fashionable establishments are constructed -on the plan of regular barracks. You may quarter in them from ten to -fifteen families, belonging to at least two or three different sets, -visiting in different societies, and envying each other the very air -they breathe. If a card be left for one of them, all the rest will -talk of it; if one goes to a party to which the rest are not invited, -all the others will be jealous; if one is more indulged by her husband -than the rest, she is made the subject of remarks by all her _friends_; -if one shows herself smarter than the others, all will turn up their -noses, and declare with one voice that she is a forward woman;--in -short, I would rather expose my wife to the perils and inconveniences -of a voyage by sea, than leave her with half-a-dozen women at a -boarding-house. They are the destruction of domestic happiness; -break in upon the sanctity of private life; blight a thousand germs -of affection, which can only be matured in retirement; make mutual -tenderness the subject of ridicule, and publish those foibles to the -world which love and forbearance would scarcely have discovered, and -certainly never revealed. If I were a man without a fortune, I would -a thousand times rather emigrate to the far West, and live with my -wife in a log-house, than in one of those palaces constructed for the -torture of husbands! But, as I said before, they answer very well -for bachelors; I always advise my single acquaintances to go to a -boarding-house in preference to a tavern.” - -On entering the parlour, my friend presented me in due form to the -landlady, who, being not altogether displeased with his having brought -a friend to dine with him, for which she had the right of imposing a -tax of one dollar, received me with becoming graciousness. From her my -friend turned to a lady of the olden times, dressed in the true style -of the Pilgrims, with a plain, dignified, but a little too austere -countenance. She received me with the utmost imperturbability, changing -not a muscle of her face or body as she drawlingly uttered the words, -“How--do--you--do?” By her side sat her daughter, a lovely maiden of -between thirty and forty years of age, dyed in the deepest blue of New -England learning, with a sharp aquiline nose, over which the reflection -from her sharp grey eyes had diffused a sort of _aurora borealis_. Her -upper lip was long, and her mouth unusually large; though her thin -compressed lips were strongly indicative of firmness and prudence. -She had the good sense to wear a cap; behind which, with becoming -bashfulness, she not only concealed her own hair, but also a large -portion of that, the continuance of which hung in graceful curls over -her waxen cheeks, touching the protuberance of the clavicle. - -When my name was mentioned as “from Germany,” I thought my New England -Minerva gave some slight sign of emotion, which, with more justice -than personal vanity, I traced to the recollection of some difficult -points in Kant’s Metaphysics; and, desirous of avoiding a discussion on -a subject on which neither her nor my wisdom could contribute much to -enlighten the world, I pressed my friend gently towards the next lady, -whose youthful appearance was much better calculated to put a man in -good-humour for a dinner party. She was a new-blown rose, scarcely past -sixteen, with black eyes and black hair, a straight Grecian nose,--and, -to say all, she had dimples in her cheeks. Her neck, in gracefulness -and whiteness, might have challenged that of a swan; and, although her -bust was somewhat diminutive, it corresponded well with her slender -waist and the extreme delicacy of her hands and feet. In short, she -was one of those American beauties one cannot behold without loving -and pitying at the same time; for such is the exquisite proportion and -symmetry of their limbs, that not an atom of them can suffer the least -alteration without completely destroying the harmony of the whole. One -might compare their beauty to that of an elegantly-turned period, in -which you cannot alter one word without destroying the whole sentence; -or, to use a more correct simile, to a finished piece of poetry, which, -by the alteration of a single syllable, degenerates into prose. I never -could look on any one of those sylphs without feeling an involuntary -emotion to place them, like other jewels, in some velvet _écrin_, to -protect them from vulgar contact, or the blighting influence of the -atmosphere. - -On this occasion my usual tenderness for these victims of a rigorous -climate was rapidly changing into feelings of a more ardent nature, -when the young lady rose, and, throwing her head back and her breast -forward, imitated by a sudden jerk of her body one of those ludicrous -bows which the Gallo-American dancing-masters have substituted for the -slow, graceful, dignified courtesies of old; and which fashionable -women in the United States, who are generally in advance of the -most grotesque fashions of Paris, are sure to turn into a complete -caricature. For a moment or two I took the spasmodic contraction of -her body for the effect of some nervous excitement, produced, perhaps, -by the sudden appearance of a man who was not yet old enough to be her -grandfather; but the undisturbed ease with which she immediately after -took her seat, and the perfect indifference with which she asked and -answered half-a-dozen complimentary questions, soon convinced me that -she must have been “out” ever since she was old enough to spell her -name. - -Next to the young _belle_ sat two ladies, mother and daughter, who, -to judge from their appearance, had not yet been long admitted into -fashionable society. The mother, whose _mise_ sufficiently betokened -a woman that had given up every pretension to please, was between -thirty-five and forty years of age; the daughter might have been -eighteen. She was a _piquante brunette_, with large black eyes, and a -profusion of dark auburn hair, which, I dare be sworn, was all her own. -Her pouting red lips, according to Lavater, proved her to be capable of -sympathising with the feelings of others; and her embarrassment when I -was presented to her showed that she had not yet become sophisticated -in contact with the world. I told her all the pretty things I could -think of; and secretly resolved, _coûte qui coûte_, to take my seat not -far from her at the dining-table. - -Next in turn was Mrs. ***, a widow-lady of ***, who I understood had -been exceedingly handsome in her youth, and had now the singular -good-nature of admiring and praising the beauty of others, without the -dolorous reflection of many a withered _belle_-- - - “Sono stata felice anch ’io.” - -She had buried her pretensions with her love; and her claims on the -world were now confined to that respect which even the worst of men, -at all times and in all countries, willingly pay to a woman whose -countenance serves as a visible index to a virtuous life. Her husband -had held a most distinguished rank as a public man in his State; and -her son, brought up in the simplicity of country life, and imbued with -those principles which in the revolutionary struggle animated the -American patriots, was heir to an immense estate left him by his uncle. -She received me with that friendly but dignified manner, which, without -attracting or repulsing, puts a man at once at his ease, by leaving him -in every respect complete master of his conduct. - -We exchanged a few complimentary phrases; when my friend, leading me -to the other part of the room, introduced me at once to half-a-dozen -young ladies, who had formed themselves into a small circle, whispering -to each other, and alternately laughing and looking at some of the -gentlemen, who, completely separated from the ladies, were filling the -background of the scene. My name without the “_de_” being announced -to them, one or two just moved their chairs, while the rest continued -their conversation without appearing to take the least notice of our -intrusion. These I knew were the manners of young ladies belonging to -the first society towards gentlemen of an inferior order, or towards -those whose rank, for some reason or other, were it but the omission -of certain formalities, has not yet been generally established. I -therefore observed to my friend, in a voice sufficiently low not to be -heard by the company, that it would probably be best to leave these -girls to themselves. - -“By no means,” replied he in a whisper; “I have that with me which -shall revenge every impertinence I have thus far suffered from them. -They never knew my connexions here; and are only _cutting_ me because -they have been invited to two or three parties, where, owing to my -short stay in this city, I did not care about being introduced. -Besides, I mean to teach them better breeding for the future.” Then, -turning to one of the young beauties, “Pray, Miss ***,” demanded he, -“what did you do with yourself during the whole of this beautiful day?” - -“That’s a secret, sir; we don’t tell that to everybody.” - -Here the young lady endeavoured to cut the conversation short by -whispering something to her neighbour. - -“But I thought I saw you come out of one of the shops in Broadway?” - -“I assure you I did not see _you_,” replied the lady, with a remarkably -acute accent. - -“That I can easily account for,” replied my friend; “I was walking on -the other side, and there were several carriages in the street.” - -“Oh! I should not have seen you if I had stumbled over you. I never -look at gentlemen.” - -Here she again whispered to her acquaintance, with her eyes fixed upon -us; but my friend was determined to see her out. - -“Do you know,” said he, “Mrs. *** is going to give a magnificent ball?” - -“I am glad to hear it,” replied the young lady. - -“It is said the first invitations are already given out. I dare say -you have received yours?” - -The young lady exchanged looks with her friend. - -“Are _you_ invited, sir?” - -“Oh, I am an old friend of the house; I go there whenever I please.” - -“Even without being invited, I suppose?” - -“You know, Miss ***, I never stand upon ceremonies.” - -“One would suppose so.” - -“And yet I flatter myself I never give offence.” - -The lady made no reply. - -“I hope,” said he to the second girl, “you have got over your cold?” - -“I don’t ‘mind’ a cold.” - -“But it gives me great pain to see you afflicted.” - -Here the young lady rose, as if she intended to leave the room. - -“Pray, Miss ***, don’t rise,” cried my friend, “before I have delivered -to you Mrs. ***’s invitation. I received it only last night, with the -request to hand it you as soon as convenient; and I would not incur -Mrs. ***’s displeasure for the world.” - -“You are very kind, Mr. ***; have you got it with you?” - -“Here, Miss ***, you see I directed it myself; it will be one of the -most brilliant parties given in New York this season.” - -“Well, I declare you are monstrous good-natured,” said the young lady -with a bow; then, turning to her companion, “Dear Fanny, only look at -Mrs. ***’s politeness; she invites me ten days _ahead_.” - -“Pray, won’t you act the post-boy for _me_, Mr. ***?” said Fanny, -looking half ironically, half condescendingly, upon my friend. - -“Most willingly, if anybody will intrust me with a note to you, which I -dare say will be in the course of to-morrow.” - -“Well, I do admire Mr. ***’s gallantry, I declare!” cried the young -lady, relieved from a painful embarrassment: “what would become of us -if we had not Southerners and Europeans” (here she deigned to notice -me for the first time) “to take care of us? Our New York gentlemen will -be devoted to business; you can get no more attention from them than -from a stick of wood.” - -At this moment a stout negro rang the bell for dinner. It was one of -those high-toned, shrieking bells, a single note of which would have -set a musician crazy; but, to judge of the electrifying effect it -produced on the whole company, it was far from being disagreeable even -to the most refined American ears. The gentlemen especially smiled -with approbation, as it called them once more from helpless idleness -to active industry; and, in their eagerness to obey its summons, -offered their arms to young and old, in order to have the good fortune -of the first _entrée_. It was a scene of complete confusion,--one of -those which occur but rarely in America, except just before dinner,--a -_mêlée_ of ladies and gentlemen. I saw three young men offer their -arms to an old lady near the door, and a pretty little creole woman -was actually marched off under double escort. I felt my heart bleed -as I looked round for my unsophisticated _brunette_, and saw her -dragged along by a young broker, who was already smacking his lips in -anticipation of the turtle. Her mother was gone long ago: when she -heard the bell, she made an instinctive move towards the door, and was -immediately snatched off by a young man, who made the most of her in -the way of taking precedence of his friends. Even the old widow-lady -vanished with a gentleman from Boston. What was to be done? Without -a lady there was no seat to be had at the upper part of the table, -and, in fact, no certainty of obtaining a seat at all; and there -remained yet two Englishmen,--a physician, and an agent of a house -in Manchester,--a Spaniard from the island of Cuba, two Portuguese, -my friend and myself, to be helped to partners. Fortunately for us, -however, the young lady who had just passed such high encomiums on -Southern and European gallantry, had already seized my friend’s arm, -before he had a chance to offer it; and her amiable companion thought -herself bound to accept the offer of mine. The remaining girls were -equally divided among the representatives of the three nations; but the -British Æsculapius, being the stoutest man of the company, was a host -by himself, and formed the rear of the train. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] At whatever hour people may breakfast in New York, they are sure to -dine at half-past two or three. - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - The Dinner.--Reflections on the Homage paid to American - Women.--Observation of a Fashionable young Lady on American - eating.--The Party after Dinner.--An American descanting on the - Fashions.--Parallel between English and American Women.--Manner - of rising in Society.--Extravagance and Waste of the Middle - Classes.--Toad-eating of Fashionable Americans in Europe.--Their - Contempt for the Liberal Institutions of their Country.--Manner in - which the Society of America may be used as a means of correcting - the Notions of European Exaltados.--The British Constitution in high - favour with the Upper-Classes.--Southern and Northern Aristocracy - contrasted.--Aristocracy of Literati.--American Women in Society - and at Home.--Pushing in Society the cause of Failures.--Western - Aristocracy.--An Aristocratic Lady in Pittsburgh.--Aristocracy in a - Printer’s Shop.--Philosophical Windings-up of the Party. - - “To feed, were best at home; - From thence, the sauce to meat is ceremony; - Meeting were bare without it.” - - _Macbeth_, Act III. Scene 4. - - -When we entered the dining-room, soup and fish were already removed, -and active operation commenced on chickens, ducks, turkeys, beef, -veal, mutton, and pork,--the seven standing dishes in the United -States. We were fortunate enough to obtain seats not far from the -landlady, right in the middle of a garden of blooming beauties. The -ladies were all _en grande toilette_, though among the gentlemen not -one appeared to be dressed for dinner. The conversation was very loud; -but, notwithstanding, completely drowned in the clatter of knives and -forks. I perceived that the women talked, not only much more, but also -much louder than the men; American gentlemen of the higher classes -being indeed the most bashful creatures, in the presence of ladies of -fashion, I ever saw. They approach women with the most indubitable -consciousness of their own inferiority, and, either from modesty or -prudence, seldom open their lips except to affirm what has been said -by the ladies. One is always reminded of poor Candide’s honest prayer, -“_Hélas! madame; je répondrai comme vous voudrez_.” I have seen one of -the most distinguished old gentlemen in the United States,--one who -held the highest rank in the gift of the American people, and whose -learning and knowledge on most subjects rendered him a most pleasing -and entertaining companion of men,--betray as little self-possession in -the presence of women as if he had been making his _début_ in society, -and this too in the house of one of his most intimate friends. - -This excessive awkwardness in the men, to which even the most -distinguished of their race make no exception, must be owing to -something radically wrong in the composition of American society, which -places men as well as women in a false position. The conviction of this -fact must force itself on the mind of every impartial observer who has -had an opportunity of making himself familiar with the customs and -manners of the higher classes. There appears to be a singular mixture -of respect and want of sincerity on the part of the men with regard to -the women, produced, I believe, by the unnatural position which the -latter hold wherever they are brought into contact with the former. - -In the first place, American ladies occupy, from mere courtesy, a rank -in society which is not only opposed to that which they hold in private -life and in their own families, but which is actually incompatible with -the exercise of discretion on the part of the gentlemen. “The ladies -must be waited upon;” “the ladies must be helped;” “the ladies must be -put into the carriage;” “the ladies must be taken out of the carriage;” -“the ladies must have their shoe-strings tied;”[2] “the ladies must -have their India-rubber shoes put on;” “the ladies must be wrapped up -in shawls;” “the ladies must be led up stairs and down stairs;” “the -ladies must have their candles lit for them when they go to bed.” On -every occasion they are treated as poor helpless creatures who rather -excite the pity than the admiration of men; and as the services they -require are numerous, just in proportion to the scarcity of hired -servants, the gentlemen are obliged to officiate in their stead. - -These continual exigencies cannot but render the society of women -often irksome to men who are daily engaged from ten to twelve hours -in active business, before they dress to do the agreeable at a party; -and hence the retiring of the ladies is but too frequently hailed as -the signal for throwing off restraint, or, as I once heard it called, -“for letting off the steam,” and being again natural and easy. If in -any of these matters the men were allowed to use their own discretion -in bestowing attention on those only whom they like, all would be well -enough. The ladies would receive a great deal of voluntary tribute; -and the gentlemen, delighted with the privilege of a choice, would be -more prodigal of their _petits soins_ to those who would have a smile -in return for their devotion. But, instead of this, a fashionable -American is harassed by an uninterrupted series of exactions, made for -no other purpose than for gratifying “the ladies;” while the rules of -society are such, that he can scarcely ever find a chance of making -himself agreeable to a particular individual. Hence an American _salon_ -exhibits nothing but generalities of men and women, in which no other -merit is recognised but that which belongs to the sex. In this manner -American ladies are worshipped; but the adoration consists in a species -of polytheism, in which no particular goddess has a temple or an altar -dedicated to herself. - -Whenever an American gentleman meets a lady, he looks upon her as -the representative of her sex; and it is to her sex, not to her -peculiar amiable qualities, that she is indebted for his attentions. -But look upon the same lady when she returns home from a party, or -after the company has been dismissed at her own house! She is indeed -honoured and respected, a happy mother, a silent contented wife, and -complete mistress at home; but how seldom is she the intimate friend -of her husband, the repository of his secrets, his true and faithful -counsellor,--in one word, the better half of his existence! And yet -what woman would not rather be _that_, than an idol, placed on an -artificial elevation in society, in order to be deprived of her true -influence on the deliberations and actions of men. I have undoubtedly -seen American ladies who were all a woman could wish to be to their -husbands; but I scarcely remember one, especially in fashionable life, -who was not quoted to me as an exception to the rule. - -Such were my reflections as I took my seat next to the fashionable -angel who, by doing me the honour of accepting my arm, was actually -doing me out of my dinner. There were but six black servants in the -room to wait upon more than fifty people; and in South Carolina I had -often seen six negroes wait upon one person, without being able to make -him comfortable. Under such circumstances, the business of a gentleman -is to see that the lady next to him does not leave the table without -having had something to eat; and for this purpose no small exertion -and ingenuity are required, especially when one does not know the names -of those sable attendants, and has no opportunity of slipping half a -dollar into their hands. - -At first we waited a while with great patience, showing to our -greedy neighbours that we were neither as hungry nor as ill-bred as -themselves; but when I saw one dish after the other disappear--the -tender loin of the beef gone--the oyster sauce dried up by the side of -the carcass of a turkey--everything which once had wings reduced to its -bare legs--and these legs themselves to mere drumsticks-- - -“George!” exclaimed I in despair, “come and help this lady.” - -“Never mind me, sir; I get plenty,” whispered the fair. - -No answer from the servant. - -“John, I say! why won’t you come hither?” - -“My name is not John, sir,” grinned one of the negroes as he passed by -to wait upon another person. - -“Sam, then!” I cried, “and may the Lord have mercy on you!” - -“Wat wil you be hept to, massa?” ejaculated a dark, glossy mulatto, -whose face looked as if it had just been varnished. - -“What will you have, Miss ***?” demanded I of the lady. - -“Why, I really don’t know. I have not had time to think of it. They all -eat so fast.” - -“Sam!” exclaimed a stentorian voice from the other end of the table. - -“Yes, massa,” replied Sam, and was seen no more. - -“Don’t you think, Miss ***,” said I, “it would be better for you to -make up your mind as to what you intend to eat before you come to -dinner? It would, I think, be an easy task, as in every large hotel or -boarding-house there appears to be the same daily variety of standing -dishes.” - -“I am not hungry,” replied the lady, with a furtive glance on the plate -of her _vis-à-vis_, on which the white tender breast of a turkey, -hugged in the embrace of a ruddy slice of Virginia ham, was softly -reposing on a bed of mashed potatoes, and that delicious vegetable -designated by the poetic appellation of “squash.” The extreme borders -of the plate were garnished with cranberry and apple sauce; and a -quarter of a cabbage, placed with the dexterity of an artist in the -background, just completed the perspective. - -“Neither am I,” said I. “Will you allow me to take wine with you?” - -A slight convulsion of her body, similar to the one previously -described,--and of which no one can form a correct idea who has not -witnessed the effect of a galvanic battery on a person touching the two -poles,--informed me of her acquiescence. Accordingly I filled both our -glasses with champaign; and, looking at her with all the tenderness -which the effervescence of that sparkling liquid is capable of -inspiring, emptied mine to the very bottom. When I raised my eyes again -I found hers dissolved in dew; for, instead of drinking, she had only -suffered the spirituous ether to play with the end of her nose, the -liquid itself remaining untouched in the vessel. I now began to feel -concerned for her; so, seizing the arm of one of the attendants, who -was just attempting to make his escape with the remnant of an oyster -pie, I made at once a prize of his cargo, and without further ceremony -shared it equally with my fastidious companion. - -“Now what vegetable will you be helped to?” demanded I. - -“To none, if you please, with a _pâté aux huîtres_,” was the reply of -the young lady. - -“But, before you will have done with the _pâté aux huîtres_, the -vegetables will be gone.” - -“I am sorry for that,” said she; “but I cannot bear taking so many -things on one and the same plate. The very sight of it is sufficient to -take away one’s appetite.” - -Here her _vis-à-vis_ bestowed upon her a long look of astonishment, -resting his left elbow on the table, and reducing the velocity of his -right hand, which was armed with a formidable three-pronged fork, -almost to zero. - -“Indeed,” continued she, without appearing to notice his emotion, “our -people do not know how to eat.” - -“Indeed, I think they acquit themselves admirably,” said I. - -“And do you call _that eating_?” said she. “What must the English think -of us when they see us act in this manner? Oh! I wish dinner were over! -Are the gentlemen not already leaving the table?” - -“Yes, Miss ***; those, probably, whose business will not allow them to -stop for pudding.” - -“Oh, I did not wish to deprive you of your enjoyment; I would merely -tax your politeness with the request of accompanying me to the door.” - -“I know no greater happiness than that of obeying your commands,” -said I, doing as I was bid. “I shall have the honour of joining you -by-and-by in the parlour.” - -“Pray, don’t let me interfere with your favourite amusements. I know -you like to take a glass of wine and smoke a cigar after dinner.” - -“I can assure you,” said I, “I do not smoke at all.” - -“What! you don’t smoke? For mercy’s sake! I hope you don’t _chew_?” - -“I do not use tobacco in any shape.” - -“Well, that is certainly a great recommendation!” exclaimed she. “I -wish I could persuade _our_ gentlemen to imitate your example; it would -perhaps cure them of the disgusting habit of spitting.” - -All this was said sufficiently loud for every one near her to hear; -after which the young lady, having attracted the general attention of -the company, vanished through the folding-doors with the same ease and -composure as a French actress who has been the favourite of the public -for years. - -When I regained my place, pudding and pastry had disappeared; and, -the cloth being removed, dessert was placed on the table. This was of -course the signal for the general departure of ladies and gentlemen; so -that in about five minutes my friend and myself, two or three elderly -gentlemen, the agent of the Manchester house, and the fat English -doctor, were the only persons remaining in the room. - -“Let us club together,” said the doctor, “and call for an extra bottle -of old Carolina madeira.” - -“I am glad to hear that,” cried my friend; “but, above all things, let -us get some biscuits and cheese,--I have not had a mouthful of dinner.” - -“Served you right!” said the doctor; “why will you be prating to those -girls? They have had their dinner long ago at a confectioner’s shop. I -have made it a rule of my life, ever since I came to this country, to -take my place at the end of the table, as far as possible removed from -everything feminine; and to the observation of this maxim I am indebted -for my good figure, in spite of the fogs and the easterly winds.” - -“Why, you know, doctor,” interrupted a thin-looking American, “that -your shape would not answer at all for a ladies’ man. In the first -place, you have the chest and shoulders of an English collier; your -face is full and round, as though you had been swilling porter all your -life; your legs, especially your thighs, are the very essence of beef; -and, above all, sir, you have a paunch!--a paunch which would frighten -any of our West-end ladies into hysterics! An American exquisite must -not measure more than twenty-four inches round the chest; his face must -be pale, thin, and long; and he must be spindle-shanked, or he won’t do -for a party. There is nothing our women dislike so much as corpulency: -weak and refined are synonymous.” - -“That’s a fact,” rejoined my friend; “I heard Mrs. ***, of F----a, -descant on the vulgarity of English women, because they were accustomed -to _walk_.” - -“And in all sorts of weather, too, without being laid up six weeks with -the hooping-cough!” cried the doctor. - -“The fact is,” rejoined the American gentleman, “your English women -_are_ of a much coarser make than ours; they are eternally taking -exercise for their health; and, as for _physical_ strength, I believe -there are no women equal to them in the world.” - -“And it is well for them they are so,” observed another American, who, -I understood, was a gentleman established in New York; “for they are -not treated with nearly the same respect as ours.” - -“If by respect you mean external attention,” rejoined the doctor, -“and more especially exemption from labour and personal exertion, -you are certainly right as far as regards your _city_ women of New -York, Boston, Philadelphia, &c. Our London women of the middle and -even higher classes can walk alone, stand alone, and, when taking tea -or coffee, do not require a gentleman to hold the saucer for them. -Whenever they require an attendance of this sort, they hire it; and, -until they can afford paying a page, manage to dispense with his -services.” - -“Excellent Englishwomen!” cried the third American, who happened to be -a Boston lawyer, and a great admirer of England. “Would to Heaven our -Yankee women were like yours! I do not mean to cast a reflection on -the high moral qualities of our ladies; for I believe that, in regard -to virtue, they can challenge the world for a comparison. I speak of -the excessive pretensions and fastidious conduct, not only of our rich -fashionable women, but also of the wives and daughters of our men of -moderate fortune. No sooner do they find out that their husbands or -fathers have laid up a couple of thousand dollars in a bank, than they -set up for ladies of the _ton_; and then they want to ride in their own -carriages; live in houses for which they pay from eight hundred to a -thousand dollars’ rent; give parties to which they invite people whom -they never met before, and from which they exclude their friends and -nearest relations, in order not to be shamed by their presence; rake -up a relationship with some colonel in the revolutionary army, or some -noble family in Europe,--the latter is by far the most respectable; -hang up the portraits of their ancestors in their parlours; make the -tour of the springs in the summer; and spend a winter in Washington. -Waste becomes now the order of the day; and if, in spite of their -scrambling after fashionable society, they do not obtain access to the -very first of it, the men are teased and tormented until they leave -their native city to seek in one of the numerous ‘growing places’ -of the West an asylum in which they cannot be outdone by the _old -families_.” - -“Our Yankee moralist is right,” exclaimed the New-Yorker; “nothing can -be more contemptible than the endless pretensions of our _parvenus_.” - -“If you speak in this manner,” rejoined the Boston lawyer, bestowing -a knowing glance on the New-Yorker, “you pronounce sentence on -nine-tenths of our industrious citizens. What great difference, after -all, is there between a _parvenu_ of ten years’ standing, and a -_parvenu_ who is just making his _début_ in society? I have nothing -to say against those who by perseverance and success in business have -acquired fortunes that enable them to live in a style superior to that -of their neighbours; but there is a way of playing the _bourgeois -gentilhomme_ which exposes a man deservedly to ridicule.” - -“Like Mr. *** the grocer, who has just turned India merchant, and who -will crowd his rooms with the most costly furniture, in such a manner -that you cannot pass from one into the other without running against a -table, a sofa, or a piano.” - -“Or like Mrs. ***, the wife of the iron-monger, who has taken it into -her head to patronize the arts, and has overhung the nice clean walls -of her parlour with all the dirty daubs her husband has bought on his -late tour through Italy.” - -“Or like Mrs. *** of Philadelphia, the wife of the auctioneer, whose -_bals costumés_ are said to rival those of London and Paris, and whose -husband gives to his male friends ‘a treat’ once a fortnight.” - -“Or like those poor devils who live ‘all in a row’ in the West-end -of our city without ever seeing one another, each expecting to be in -due time admitted into fashionable society on paying the penalty of a -party.” - -“To which none but the gentlemen come.” - -“And those only at a very late hour, just in time for supper.” - -“I should not care for all that,” resumed the Bostonian, “if one could -get away from that sort of society; but this is actually impossible, -unless one emigrate to the South or West. The same artificial -distinctions exist at the South: but then in the Southern States the -distinctions are real, not imaginary; they date from the time of the -colonies, and, being in part based on the possession of real estate, -do not change with every fluctuation of trade. A man may there visit -ten years in the same circle without seeing a single new face, except -that of a stranger; while in New York every new quotation of exchange -excludes a dozen families from the pale of fashion, and creates a -dozen new candidates for its imaginary honours. Every commercial -loss or gain,” he continued, “exercises a controlling influence on -the happiness and prospects of our families. It changes at once -their friends, their associates, and often their nearest relations, -into strangers. How many ties are thus broken by a single failure -in business! and how many failures occur, because the heads of those -families dare not retrench,--have not the courage to live within their -income,--cannot bring themselves to lead their children out of a higher -circle into a lower one,--have not the heart to blight their prospects -in life! No! they must play the hypocrite,--live as though they were -men of fortune; marry their daughters, who are brought up in the most -expensive habits, to young spendthrifts, who expect them to inherit -fortunes; and then die, without leaving to their heirs wherewith to -procure for them a decent funeral! This, sir, is a picture of our -first society, established on the system of credit! And then how much -real happiness is lost in the foolish endeavour to get into the first -society of our Atlantic cities; which, after all, differs from the -second and third, from which it is necessarily daily recruited, in -nothing that could strike an European except in the greater display of -wealth and waste. The little Miss at school is already panting for the -society of ‘the higher girls,’ and cuts her old playmates the moment -her father can dress her well enough for better company. No sooner -has she left school than she teases and torments her parents until -they allow her to give a party, to which, of course, none but her new -acquaintances are invited; and which, with her, is the beginning of a -new era,--the commencement of her formal separation for life from all -her early friends, relatives, and often her own parents. This, sir, is -the first act of a young fascinating creature of seventeen, introducing -her to the attractions of fashionable life. At that tender age, when -girls in other countries are considered as mere children, she has -already learned to check the better impulses of her nature, in order -to conform to the customs and usages of the world. But this is not -all. The bold, sophisticated girl, who has struck out her independent -course of life, is no longer conducted and watched by her parents, -whose inferior rank in society does not allow them to accompany her to -any of the balls and parties to which she is now invited: her mother -ceases to be the repository of her secrets, her guardian, and friend; -she is barely asked her consent when the young heroine is at last -going to be married. If, under these circumstances, and despite of -the perverse rules of society, the conduct of our women remains still -unexceptionable, it must be ascribed to the force of religion, to the -constant occupation of the men, the practice of early marriages, and, -above all, to that all-embracing power of public opinion, which in no -other country punishes the vicious and guilty with the same unrelenting -severity.” - -“And a good deal perhaps also to that part of public opinion which -punishes the gentlemen as severely as the ladies,” observed the doctor, -finishing his glass. - -“You may perhaps object,” continued the Bostonian, who appeared to be -bent on a homily, “that a similar sort of toad-eating to the higher -classes exists also in England; the lower order of the English being -even more submissive to those above them than the same classes in -America: but on the Continent you seldom see a man or woman pay their -court to a superior, except for a special object; the mere admission -into fashionable society rarely induces a man to throw away his -self-respect, and to cringe and fawn before titled personages.” - -“It is for this reason that the manners of certain classes of the -English are less free and natural than those of the same orders on the -Continent; the former being only easy and agreeable in the society of -their native town, where their character is known and understood. Go -and visit all the courts of Europe, from Paris to St. Petersburg, and -from Stockholm to Naples, and if you find a toad-eater caressing the -feet of majesty, and exercising his utmost ingenuity to be on good -terms with the most distinguished noble families, you may be sure he is -either English or American. But the American will outdo the Englishman. -He will be twice as humble before ribands and stars, and three times as -insolent to an inferior, as honest John Bull. He will feast six months -on the breakfast of a duke, and then regale his countrymen six months -longer with the recital of its splendours. He will actually beg himself -into society, solicit letters of introduction on the most humiliating -terms, pocket quietly a thousand refusals, and, when finally he -succeeds in being smuggled into the drawing-room of a princess, is the -first to betray her hospitality in publishing her foibles to the world! - -“Very few Englishmen will go as far as _that_; and, if there be some -that forget to stand sentinel on their dignity, there are fortunately -enough of those whose rank, title, and fortune, readily procure them -the distinction others are obliged to _court_. But the Americans who -go to Europe leave their self-assumed rank in society behind; they go -thither as plain citizens of a republic, dependent entirely on their -letters of introduction, and the civility of those to whom these -letters are directed. Their first care, therefore, is to impress all -with whom they come in contact with the belief that, though the spirit -of the American constitution recognises no nobility, such an order of -society nevertheless exists _de facto_; and that they themselves belong -to the ‘few select’ of that ‘large Augean stable.’ I assure you I quote -the very words of Americans, as I have often heard them; for railing -against their country constitutes one of the chief amusements of our -Yankee exquisites at home and abroad. - -“In this manner they hope to ingratiate themselves with the old -aristocracy of Europe, whom they flatter and console with repeated -assurances that the ‘mob government of America’ will not last half a -century; and that they themselves are so far converted to the ancient -and noble doctrines as to be determined to leave their country for the -purpose of sojourning amongst civilized men. On the principle, then, -that _one_ repentant sinner is more acceptable in the eye of _the Lord_ -than a hundred just men, these Americans are admitted into favour; but, -notwithstanding their partial success, few of them understand the art -of _se laisser aller_. One can always see that they are not brought up -for sociable idleness; and when a bill is presented,--were it even for -a patent of nobility,--you would see them wax pale with horror as they -thrust their hands into their pockets.” - -“I often remarked the penuriousness of fashionable Americans in Europe; -but I cannot say that this is a fault to which they are much addicted -at home,” observed my friend, with a sarcastic look on the New-Yorker, -who, I understood, had just commenced a wholesale business without -capital. - -“In the United States,” rejoined the Bostonian, “a man will frequently -be liberal with the money that is not precisely his own; the credit -system allows him to spend more than his income: but in Europe, where -he is obliged to pay for everything as he goes along, he soon learns to -hold on to the cash.” - -“That is one reason,” said my friend; “and the second is, he does not -know how to spend his money. He lays it out on things Europeans value -but little, and is most parsimonious where Europeans are most liberal. -I knew a Bostonian in Paris who would pay twelve francs a day for his -fire, and in the evening drive in a common hackney-coach to a party; -another would give his wife a shawl of a thousand francs, but refuse -her some Nancy embroidery; and a third would purchase for his wife and -daughters pocket-handkerchiefs at a hundred francs a-piece, but object -to their being washed. I was present when an American lady, who was -told by a French gentleman that at a certain shop on the Boulevards -there were very nice embroidered ladies’ handkerchiefs to be had at two -napoleons a-piece, exclaimed, ‘_Comment! et vous croyez que je puisse -porter des mouchoirs à quarante francs?_’ - -“‘_Et quels mouchoirs portez-vous donc, Madame?_’ exclaimed the -Frenchman, half embarrassed and half amazed. - -“‘_Je ne porte que des mouchoirs à six-cents francs._’ - -“‘_Et comment sont-ils donc faits, ces mouchoirs là?_’ demanded the -astonished Frenchman. - -“‘_Comme ce-ci_,’ replied the lady, turning up her nose, and throwing -a huddled-up, dirty, pocket-handkerchief on the table, which the -Frenchman, either from delicacy or fear, did not dare to unravel. - -“‘_Ah! en vérité_,”’ cried the gallant Parisian, turning away his head, -‘_ils sont excessivement jolis_.’ - -“When the same lady was afterwards told that she could perform the -journey from Paris to Nice for less than a thousand francs, she -remarked to her husband who had made the inquiry, ‘Oh, I dare say -_some_ people may do it even for less; but we always travel _en grand -seigneur_.’” - -“Pray,” said the Bostonian, “did that woman never claim any -relationship to some European prince? They are seldom very extravagant -unless they can prove themselves descended from a nobleman.” - -“To be sure she did,” replied my friend; “not indeed to a prince, but -to a duke, whose name is preserved in the history of his country. She -told her friends and acquaintances that she only came to Europe to -assist at the coronation of the Queen of England; which, she being a -_dame d’atour_, could not very well be performed without her.” - -“Oh, yes!” exclaimed the doctor; “I believe anything of your -fashionable characters, except that they can live a month without Epsom -salt or calomel.” - -“I dare say she would have been just as humble and cringing in company -of a British peer, as she was haughty and insolent with a poor -Frenchman,” observed my friend. “She would have gone through all the -regular stages of toad-eating, in order to procure, as a particular -favour, a place in some corner of a room from which she might have -peeped at the lovely person of her British Majesty.” - -“I am sure of that,” cried the Bostonian; “that’s the way our people do -when brought within the sphere of attraction of a court.” - -“And is it not strange,” resumed my friend, “that the Americans, who at -home are the most thin-skinned people in the world,--always ready to -punish in the most severe, and sometimes in the most atrocious manner, -every offence offered to the nation or to individuals,--should, on -leaving home, so far lay aside their character and self-respect as -to literally creep through the palaces of princes for the sordid -satisfaction of being able to say that they have been there?” - -“The contempt of our fashionable people for the liberal institutions -of their country, and their admiration of everything that is European, -are so well known and understood in Europe,” observed the Bostonian, -“that of all the travellers through France, Germany, and Italy, the -Americans suffer the least molestation or inconvenience from passports. -Their presence in any country can only serve to chill the ardour -of the liberals, as there is indeed no greater punishment for an -European demagogue than to pass a year or two in the United States. -Our fashionable society is capable of curing the maddest republican of -his political distemper. Just send him over here for two months, with -plenty of letters to our first people, and he will return home as quiet -and loyal a subject as any one born in the sunshine of royal favour.” - -“And, on the other hand, it is the European emigrants that have been -chiefly instrumental in establishing our present mob government,” -observed the New-Yorker. “Those blackguards--I mean principally the -Germans and the Irish,--come here with the most ridiculous notions of -liberty and equality. Having been slaves all their lives, they set an -exaggerated value on freedom, without knowing the value of property. -The British constitution, after all, is the best adapted to the wants -of a free people; isn’t it?” - -“Most assuredly it is,” replied the Bostonian; “we all know it, but -none of us dare say so aloud, for fear of being mobbed: but murder will -out, you know.” - -“What can a man know about our institutions, if he be not ‘raised’ -among us?” rejoined the New-Yorker. “Our institutions, after all, -are but the English, improved or mutilated, just as you please; but, -be this as it may, I prefer the English to our own. I cannot bear -equality.” - -“Nor I,” said the other American. - -“Nor I either,” said the Bostonian; “and I know a number of our people -who would not stay in Paris, on account of the ridiculous equality -which pervades all classes of French society. They have had quarrels -with their servants, and have been summoned with those scoundrels -before the same tribunal.” - -“That’s the reason I dislike the Irish so much,” resumed the -New-Yorker. “They are scarcely a year in the country before they -pretend to be equal to our _born_ citizens. I should have no objection -to their coming here, provided they would be contented to remain -servants,--the only condition, by the by, they are fit for: but when -they come without a cent in their pockets, pretending to enjoy the same -privileges as our oldest and most respectable citizens, my blood boils -with rage; and I would rather live among the Hottentots at the Cape of -Good Hope, than in the United States, where every cart-man is as good -as myself.” - -“I assure you,” said my friend, with a significant smile, “no people in -the world are better satisfied of their superiority than the higher -classes of Americans. If their pretensions were recognised by the -people at large, there would be no happier set of men in the world. -There is no species of perfection which they do not attribute to one -another: so that one is constantly reminded of the fable of the two -asses, one of which found the other an excellent singer, while the -latter discovered in the first a great talent for public speaking; the -rest of the animals seeing neither the singer nor the orator in either -of them. I am at once for an aristocracy like the English, with some -lasting, real distinctions. Our patriots have ruined the country by -abolishing the institution among us. It would have protected us against -the vulgarity of our moneyed men, and produced noblemen instead of -fashionable dandies, who are talking of the privileges of gentlemen -before they are entitled to the distinction.” - -“You are right,” exclaimed the Bostonian, “to ridicule the wooden -butterflies that play about our glass-house flowers. No one ever -dreamt of mocking the manners of the Dutch merchants. They stick to -trade; and, if our merchants were to do the same, they would command -the respect of the world, instead of affording amusement by their -attempt at aristocratic distinctions. You cannot but esteem Brother -Jonathan when you see him on the ocean, or in his workshop; but his -affectations in the parlour seldom fail to disgust you. In the _salon_ -the most fashionable of our race is but an anomaly, with not one-tenth -part the liberality, politeness, and affability of an European. His -bow, his smile, his constrained ease, his affected carelessness, his -very apparel, and, if he venture himself so far, his conversation, -are unnatural; and you are actually moved to compassion when you see -him sacrifice himself at a dance. The old people will tell you they -give parties for their children; the girls dance because it is the way -to get engaged and married; but the young men look upon society as a -business they must go through at specified intervals.” - -“And yet, mean and contemptible as the elements of our first society -may be,” rejoined my Southern friend, “they produce incalculable -mischief. In the first place, they are the means of spoiling our women; -not that I mean that they destroy their virtue,--which, thank Heaven! -is proof against greater temptation than that of our fashionable -men, who, moreover, have so little time for the _petits soins_ which -the ladies require of them, that they prefer the marrying for good -and all to the tedium of a long courtship; but it makes our women -indolent, unfit for the performance of domestic duties, and, in many -instances, prodigal and sophisticated in the extreme,--and this at an -age when Englishwomen scarcely venture out into company. And how small -is the number of our fashionable people whose fortunes are at all -commensurate with their expensive habits! The country at large is rich, -on account of the great ease of our middle and even lower classes; -but, in attempting to vie with the splendour of the English nobility, -we introduce a reckless system of expenditure, wholly above the means -even of our wealthiest people, and undermining the solid basis of our -national wealth.” - -“Society in America,” continued my friend, “is characterised by a -spirit of exclusiveness and persecution unknown in any other country. -Its gradations not being regulated according to rank and titles, -selfishness and conceit are its principal elements; and its arbitrary -distinctions the more offensive, as they principally refer to fortune. -Our society takes it upon itself to punish political, moral, and -religious dissenters; but most of its wrath is spent upon the champions -of democracy. That society is the means of seducing our unsophisticated -country members, making them believe that republicanism is only fit for -backwoodsmen, is a fact too notorious to be mentioned. It destroys our -independence in words and actions, and makes our duties of citizens -subordinate to the exactions of a _coterie_. What man is there in this -city that dares to be independent, at the risk of being considered -bad company? And who can venture to infringe upon a single rule of -society, without being published to the world, and persecuted for -the remainder of his life? We take it as an insult offered to our -joint judgment when a man stubbornly follows his own mind; for we are -accustomed to everything, except seeing a man not influenced by the -opinion of his neighbours. - -“How often have I envied Englishmen for the privilege of being -independent in private life! And how often did I wish myself in -England, where I might be permitted to have an opinion of my own, -and express it, without suffering in the consideration of my friends -and the public! Political liberty is, after all, but an abstract -and general good, never felt by individuals, unless it be joined to -freedom of intercourse, and that degree of independence which leaves -a man in all matters relating to himself sole arbiter of his actions. -Intolerance and persecution in private and social intercourse are far -more odious, and, perhaps, more destructive to the higher faculties of -the mind, than the most systematic political despotism acting from -above. And yet I would pardon our society all its faults, if it did not -act perniciously on the women.” - -“Let us hear what complaint our Anglo-maniac has against our women,” -exclaimed the New-Yorker, who had already looked more than twenty times -on his watch as if pressed by urgent business. - -“Oh!” cried my friend, “my charge against them is small, and refers -principally to our exclusives: I am sorry that they are unfit for -anything but society, and that in society they do not fill the place -which belongs to them.” - -“A mere trifle!” said the doctor, filling his glass. - -“I do not speak of the great mass of our women,” rejoined my friend; -“much less of the wives and daughters of our Western settlers, -who, Heaven knows, are as busy and industrious as the best German -housewives: what I have to say applies merely to our aristocracy, and -still more to those who aspire to being considered candidates for that -distinction. Our women in general are, as you know, not brought up to -work,--the chivalrous spirit of our men spurning such a vulgar abuse -of their delicate limbs; they ought, therefore, to be brought up to -save, or at least to live within their income. If, for instance, one -of our tavern-keepers will not allow his wife and daughters to appear -before his guests,--if a shopkeeper will not exhibit his wife before -his customers,--I shall certainly respect the feelings and principles -of both: but if the tavern or shopkeeper’s wife insists upon living -in Broadway, wearing nothing but satin and gros de Naples, and is -constantly emptying her husband’s purse for the purpose of ‘pushing -in society;’ if she does not regulate her expenditure according -to his means; if she takes no pains to ascertain what these means -are; in short, if she be but a useless article of furniture in his -parlour,--then I certainly maintain that there is something radically -wrong either in her education or in the state of society of which she -is a member. - -“If we had as many distinct and established orders of society as in -England, there would not be that everlasting attempt to go beyond one -another which particularly characterises our women, and, joined to the -credit system, is the cause of so many failures; a circumstance which, -in whatever light merchants and bankers may view it, is nevertheless -one of the greatest moral evils with which an honest community can be -afflicted. - -“A large portion of our matrons,” he continued, “would, I am sure, -be more happy in wearing muslin or calico, instead of silk; and the -men, instead of racking their brains in order to find the means of -providing for a thousand unnecessary expenses, would find their homes -cheap and comfortable. They would look upon their wives as friends and -counsellors, instead of mere companions of their pleasures. Instead of -‘boarding out,’--a custom which is the grave of affection and domestic -happiness,--young husbands would be enabled to keep house, and to give -their wives a home; a thing which is not so much rendered difficult -by the badness of the servants,--the usual complaint of the higher -classes,--as by the exactions of society. I know many an American that -is now living in Europe merely because he does not wish to board, and -is not rich enough to keep house according to our expensive fashion. - -“If this state of things were confined only to the wealthier -classes,--to those who have large estates and expectances,--all would -be well enough; the extravagance of the rich furnishes scope for the -industry of the poor: but with us, where young men without fortunes -marry, at the age of twenty-one, girls of eighteen that have no money -either, where the husband relies solely on his wits for supporting -his wife and children, but few men can indulge themselves in reckless -expenditure without growing indifferent as to the ways and means -of paying their debts. I am proud of the enterprising spirit of my -countrymen, who are always full of speculation and hope,--who live in -the future, and care little about the present; but I regret that our -fashionable ladies too should have caught the inspiration. A large -portion of these, as has been said before, know little or nothing -about their husbands’ property; they live in houses built or rented on -credit, drive in carriages that are not paid for, wear clothes that are -charged by the milliner, sit down to a dinner which stands in the book -of the victualler, and finally sink to rest on beds that are settled -for by a note of six months. They have no other regulator of their -expenses but fashion;--but not the fashions of their own country, grown -out of the natural position and the manners and customs of the people; -but the fashions of Paris and London, made for a different people,--at -least different as regards custom and circumstances;--and are at last -as much surprised at the bankruptcies of their husbands as their -creditors, who took them for rich men. - -“And this evil, as I said before, is not confined to a small class; it -extends to all who wish to be considered ‘genteel,’--an appellation -which is daily working the most incalculable mischief. In order to be -‘genteel,’ it is necessary, in the first place, to know nobody that is -_not_ so; and our fashionable women and girls have a peculiar talent -for staring their old friends and acquaintances out of countenance, as -often as they take a new house. Next, they must live in a particular -part of the town, and pay not less than from one to two thousand -dollars’ rent. Then they must give so many parties a year, and not -be seen wearing the same dress more than once in a season. And last, -though not least, their husbands, brothers, and cousins must give -evidence of their good breeding by abusing the republican institutions -of their country. - -“After they have been ‘genteel’ for a number of years, they are -permitted to set up for ‘exclusives;’ for which purpose they must live -in the West-end of the town, keep a carriage, claim a relationship with -some French duke or British earl,--a colonel in the army or a captain -in the navy will no longer answer at that stage,--invite the most -distinguished Europeans (by way of hospitality) to their houses, and -have their parlours ornamented with pictures in proof of their taste -for the fine arts.” - -“_A-propos!_” exclaimed the doctor; “you remind me of my friend Mr. *** -in Boston, who commissioned a gentleman of his acquaintance to purchase -in Italy ten thousand dollars’ worth of pictures for his parlour. What -sort of pictures did he get? I believe you know him, don’t you?” - -“He did not want ‘any good ones,’” replied my friend; “for, when Mr. -*** offered to purchase half-a-dozen originals, he was quite out of -humour about it, telling him that for that money he expected to have -all his rooms full. But let me continue my argument.” - -“Don’t interrupt him!” vociferated the Bostonian; “he is just labouring -under a spell of Southern eloquence.” - -“An American exclusive,” resumed my friend, “is not yet a finished -‘aristocrat.’ There are yet a thousand things about him which betray -his low origin, or, as the English have it, ‘smell of the shop.’ -Though extravagant and wasteful, he has not yet learned to spend his -money with ease and gracefulness. The women do not know how to speak -French or Italian; and the boys, brought up sometimes at a public -school, (for there are few families in the Northern States incurring -the expense of a private tutor,) would necessarily imbibe some of the -_vulgarising_ spirit of democracy. As a finish then to the education of -father, mother, and children, and perhaps, also, to drown in oblivion -the tedious particulars of their rise and progress, our highest and -best families emigrate for a short time to Europe, in order, in the -society of noblemen, to attain that peculiar high polish and suavity of -manners which it is impossible to acquire amidst the bustle of business -and the vulgar turmoil of elections. - -“How our ladies’ hearts beat when they think of Europe and its -pleasures!--of the gay and graceful baronets!--the insinuating -lords!--the rich, proud earls!--the noble dukes!--and, oh! the kings -and princes and their courts! What magic is there in that word ‘KING!’ -to the mind of a _genteel_ American! and how far will he stoop for -the distinction of being admitted into his presence! What privilege, -I heard them say, is it to shake hands with the President of the -United States?--every blackguard, dressed in boots, can do the same. -What honour is there in being present at a levee at the White House -in Washington?--every journeyman mechanic may enjoy the same pleasure -without even a decent suit of clothes. But a reception at a King’s, -or a ball at court, are things to be proud of! They have slandered an -American minister at St. Petersburg, by saying that he knelt before the -Emperor; but I can assure you that in England Americans have assumed -that attitude before the Queen!” - -“That’s all right!” ejaculated the doctor; “a man cannot be too humble -before a woman; but I do not like to see a Yankee humiliate himself -before a King.” - -“And in proportion before every duke or earl,” interrupted the -Bostonian. “I remember, a year ago, while at Paris, to have called on -an American lady who had been honoured by a visit from a distinguished -Tory leader in the House of Lords. She felt, of course, the raptures of -the blessed during his protracted presence; and when he at last rose -to take his leave, and actually vanished through the parlour door, she -observed to a young American, who had just been announced and was now -entering the room, that the gentleman whom he had met in the entry was -actually the famous Lord L----t. ‘Lord L----t!’ exclaimed the youth, -sinking into a chair; ‘was it really Lord L----t?’ Here followed a -pause of one or two minutes, during which he in vain struggled to -recover his senses. ‘And this was Lord L----t!’ cried he, gasping for -breath, and running to the window to catch another glimpse of the lord. -‘What an extraordinary man that Lord L----t is! How did you become -acquainted with Lord L----t? Won’t you introduce me to Lord L----t?’” - -“Such scenes as these are not worth relating,” observed my friend. -“They occur every day in every capital of Europe infested by our Yankee -exquisites. What I most regret is, that our women are the principal -actors that flourish in them. I would rather marry a young Tartar -girl, than a fashionable American _belle_ after she has made the tour -of Europe. If she was heartless before she left America, she is sure -to return marble-ised to her own country. And as for our striplings, -who are actually worshipping the feudal institutions of Europe, they -come home with signets and coats of arms, and a lordly loathing of -republican equality.” - -“And this is not only the case with your inexperienced boys and girls,” -observed the doctor, sipping his glass; “but applies also to your -men of letters, your distinguished orators and philosophers. However -fiercely they may extol republican institutions in their writings, they -all sink the republican in company with lords and ladies. ‘They know -nothing of Berkeley-square, though they _fancy_ it to be inhabited -by respectable people;’ but give a long account of the routs in the -neighbourhood of Grosvenor-square, and are particularly happy in -remembering the country seats of the most distinguished peers of the -empire.” - -“I grant you all this,” replied my friend; “and yet I would pardon -Cooper all his sins that way for the love he once cherished for his -country. He has suffered severely for the democracy of his earlier -days; for the meanest scribbler for a penny paper in the United States -thought himself justified in pouring out his venom on the author of -‘The Pilot.’ He is, after all, the only American that ever poetised -American history; the nice, gentlemanly, English-looking Washington -Irving has, in his ‘Knickerbocker’s History of New York,’ only raised a -laugh at the expense of his country.” - -“And yet,” observed the Bostonian, “he might have written the history -of every American town, from the famous city of Boston down to the -creole habitation of New Orleans, without rising into notice in -America, had his works not been endorsed by the British public. No -people in the world know better than our first society that they have -no taste of their own; and it is for this reason that our poets must -first seek a reputation in England, before they can expect one in their -own country. Washington Irving had more credit as a merchant than as -an author, and succeeded in his writings only after he had failed in -business. Without the latter circumstance, which may really be called -fortunate, his talents would perhaps never have been developed. But let -the Carolinian go on with his aristocracy; he has already kept us over -an hour, and, if you continue to interrupt him, he will never finish.” - -“I have very little more to say,” said the Southerner; “because the -tour of Europe _finishes_ an American aristocrat. He has now been in -England, France, and Italy;--he has, with his own eyes, seen the great -and mighty upon earth;--he has exchanged visits with some of them, -and has perhaps been asked to partake of their hospitality. It is now -the business of the women to collect and carefully to preserve the -many testimonials of respect which they may have received in the shape -of cards, invitations, and letters; in order, on their return to the -United States, to _prove_ to the incredulous that they have actually -been the fashion in _Europe_, and that in consequence they have a right -to be it in America. They are now advanced to the rank of ‘leading -people,’ and an invitation to their houses is as much sought after as -a letter of introduction to an European nobleman. ‘_They_ know Lord -So-and-so!’ ‘_She_ was quite intimate with Lady So-and-so!’ ‘_He_ -stayed a week at the country seat of the Marquis of ***!” ‘_She_ was -presented at the Queen’s!’ ‘_Both_ their names were in Galignani’s -Messenger!’ ‘_She_ is corresponding with the wife of the Honourable -Mr. ***!’ ‘The Duke of *** was quite attentive to _her_!’ The Prince -Royal of *** accompanied her on horseback!’ And a hundred other fine -and flattering things are told of them in our fashionable _salons_; -until Mr. and Mrs. *** are not only the fashion, but the envy of every -family in Broadway. - -“Fortunately for the business habits of our people, they cannot make -proselytes among our industrious male population: but our fashionable -women, one-half of whom live in boarding-houses, and the other half in -houses kept by their servants, are wondrously taken by such accounts of -the ‘success of the Americans abroad;’ and exhibit by their unnatural, -affected, forced manners, and by the total abjuration of everything -American, their solicitude to be governed by the same elevated -standard of refinement. On this account many of our women think -themselves vastly superior to their husbands; and a certain portion of -them actually have a higher standing in society. Hence the thousand -incongruities and absurdities you meet with in our fashionable circles; -all proving that our people do not act from habit and conviction, but -from imitation and precept, and that, consequently, they are always -at a loss how to act when they come to a part not contained in their -lesson. They will send out invitations to dinner at eight o’clock, -merely because this is a good hour in London, deranging thereby not -only their own business, but the business of everybody they ask; -commence balls and parties at eleven or twelve o’clock, and end them -at four in the morning, though at eight they have to be again at their -counting-rooms; and visit at an hour when the majority of the people -are at dinner. Fashions which are worn in London and Paris in the -month of October, are introduced immediately after their arrival here -in the beginning of winter. They must have musical _soirées_ without -music; _thés littéraires_ without literature; and they must crowd their -stair-cases with statues, to show that they have a taste for sculpture. -One finds in our fashionable society some feeble, and, for the most -part, unsuccessful imitation of everything that exists in Europe, but -scarcely one original object as a proof of our national existence: -so that, if it were possible to transfer a person directly from some -fashionable French or English party to one of our stockholders’ balls -in New York, Boston, or Philadelphia, he would scarcely perceive any -visible change; though he might consider himself transported from -the West-end to the City, or from the Faubourg St. Germain to the -neighbourhood of La Bourse.” - -“Pass the bottle!” cried the doctor; “I believe he has finished his -long speech.” - -“_I_ have a word to say now,” interposed the Bostonian; “I must wind up -my argument with regard to our women as compared to the English.” - -“Is he a ‘hard’ speaker?” inquired the New-Yorker. - -“He isn’t quite equal to the member from Massachusetts,” replied my -Southern friend, “who spoke seven hours in succession against time; -but, before he continues, I must ask him whether he has seen Mrs. -***’s _tableaux vivants_. I believe she had some highly classical -representations the other evening.” - -“Just so,” said the doctor; “in which her daughter made the Sphinx, and -Mr.***, the Wall-street shaver, the Numidian lion.” - -“Capital!” ejaculated the Bostonian; “but I refer to no individual in -particular--I only speak of the absurd tastes of our fashionable women -in general. I would ask, by way of finishing the picture which our -friend from Carolina so happily commenced, and in order to settle the -question of reckless expenditure, on which you all seem to exhaust your -eloquence, how many of those that belong to our fashionable society can -afford its expenses without impairing their estates?--how many of them -would be able to continue them without the assistance of credit?--and -how many of them, if their estates were to be settled to-morrow, would -be able to pay fifty cents in a dollar? I am accustomed to bring -everything down to _figures_. We at the North are a practical people: -we like to _calculate_.” - -Here the New York gentleman took out his watch, and, pretending to be -in a great hurry, abruptly left the room. - -“Do you think _he_ is solvent?” said the doctor drily, emptying his -glass. - -“Not I,” replied the Bostonian. “Out of fifty persons that commence -business in Boston, forty-nine are supposed to fail within the first -five years; it takes them that long to learn the trade: and _we_ boast -of doing business on a solid capital in comparison to the New-Yorkers. -But they beat us all hollow in the way of credit; our most cunning -brokers in State-street are nothing in comparison to a regular -Wall-street shaver. But let me come to the point. Our fashionable -people are prodigal of other people’s money; and, in entertaining their -guests, go to the extent to which they are trusted. Take, for instance, -the case of one of our pushing retail dealers. He is, of course, a -married man, and has one or two partners who are also married. Each -of them lives in a house for which he pays not less than six hundred -dollars’ rent, and the furniture of which costs from three to four -thousand dollars. Each of them keeps one male and one or two female -servants, and, in short, supports his wife _as a lady_. Each of them -must ask people to tea, each must give dinners to his friends, and -all ‘push to get into society.’ Suppose these men to do business on -their own capital,--a thing which does not occur once in fifty cases; -and let us suppose that their joint stock in trade is worth a hundred -thousand dollars; let us take for granted that, deducting losses and -bad debts, they realise a clear profit of ten per cent. on their -capital; and I can prove to you that, in the ordinary course of things, -they must be bankrupts in a few years. What, then, are we to expect of -the generality of our young men, who commence business with a borrowed -capital, on which they pay from six to eight per cent. interest?” - -“Let him figure it out!” cried the doctor,--“let him figure it out! he -is a Yankee.” - -“With all my heart,” said the Bostonian, “if you will only promise not -to interrupt me.” - -“Suppose the borrowed capital to consist of one hundred thousand -dollars? - - “Then the interest, at six per cent. would Dollars. - amount to 6,000 - - “Store rent, say 1,200 - - “Two clerks with a salary of 300 dollars per - annum 600 - - “Insurance on stock 1,000 - - “House rent for two partners, each 600 dollars 1,200 - - “Expenses of housekeeping, interest on - furniture, servants, &c. each 2500 dollars 5,000 - - “Ladies’ dresses, parties, carriage hire, and - incidental expenses, say each 1000 dollars 2,000 - - “Gentlemen’s dresses, horse hire, newspapers, - and tobacco, say each 500 dollars 1,000 - ------ - “Grand sum total 18,000 - - “Clear profit on 100,000 dollars’ worth of - stock (deducting 25 per cent. bad debts), - say 10 per cent. 10,000 - ------ - “Deficit 8,000 - -“Pray, what ruins these men, but the want of domestic economy in -their own households? An English shopkeeper would be content to -live in a house for which he would not pay more than from fifty to -sixty pounds’ rent. His carpets would be Kidderminster, instead of -Brussels or Turkey. His wife would require no other servant but a -cook or a kitchen-girl; and would no more dream of giving parties, or -vieing with the splendour of merchants and bankers, than she would -of bringing up her children to match the peers of the empire. This -is the advantage a shopkeeper has who marries an _English_ girl. He -gets, at least, a wife that wears well,--a substantial housekeeper, -that administers to his comfort, and assists him in laying up a penny -for rainy days. If her husband dies, she is, for the most part, -capable of continuing his business, and making an honest living -for her children. With all the morality, virtue, and beauty of our -women, they are but helpless creatures. The wife of one of our -young ‘merchants of respectability’ requires more waiting than, in -proportion to her rank, an English peeress; and, ten chances to one, -does not even understand superintending her servants. Her husband, in -addition to ten or twelve hours’ hard labour at his counting-room, -has to take care of his household, in which he is intrusted with the -several important and honourable functions of steward, butler, groom, -footman, and housemaid; while the education of the children is only -at the extreme North and South--in New England and in the Southern -States--superintended personally by the mother. - -“One of our fashionable young women,--innocent, kind, gay, handsome, -beautiful, as she may be,--is after all of no use whatever to a -poor man who has to work for his living; except that, by trebling -his expenditure, she is a most powerful stimulus to industry and -enterprise. If he fail in business, or die without providing for -her and her children, she has no other means of saving herself from -starvation than that of opening a boarding-house; which is generally so -ill managed, that in less than a year she is involved in debt, and sees -her furniture brought to the hammer. - -“As long as our young merchants get rich by speculations, or have their -notes shaved by a Wall-street broker at the rate of one per cent. a -month, they may be right in marrying those dear little objects of care -and caresses; but when, at some future day, wealth will become the -reward of labour and frugality, our ‘respectable young men’ will be -obliged to select their wives for the kitchen as well as the parlour. -All I can say in favour of our fashionable women is, that they do more -for the settlement of the Western country than the soil, climate and -the cheapness of land.” - -“And what is most remarkable,” interrupted my friend, “is, that those -very women, after they have resided a year or two in the Western -States, become, by the strong force of example, and perhaps also from -dire necessity, real Dutch housewives.” - -“That is to say,” observed the Bostonian, “they scrub their own floors, -clean the door-handles, wash the windows, sweep the rooms, make -themselves busy in the kitchen, and walk about with children in their -arms; all which, I can assure you, is done by the women of the best -society in the Western States without destroying either their health or -good looks. Women there are obliged to work, because they cannot find -servants to do the work for them; and yet they are infinitely happier -than your New York or Philadelphia ladies, who rise at eight or nine, -breakfast at ten,--then, as Miss Fanny Kemble would have it, _potter_ -three or four hours,--then have a chat with three or four women of -their set,--then walk Broadway or Chesnut-street, or go shopping,--then -sit down to dinner,--then _potter_ again until six o’clock,--then take -tea,--and finally dress for a party, at which, unless they be very -young, they stick up against the wall until supper.” - -“I certainly wish for a medium between the extreme hardships of -American women in the Western country, and their comparative indolence -in the seaports,” observed my friend; “and yet I am glad that the -republican spirit of the West is opposed to servitude of any kind, -for it is a great corrective of our vulgar aristocracy of money. If, -in the Western States, you could at all times command a sufficient -number of hands, the possession of large real estates would soon lay -the foundation of an aristocracy much more substantial and durable than -that which effervesces on our seaboard. The human heart, after all, is -aristocratic--that is, selfish--by nature; so that, if the resistance -of the lower classes does not check the aggressions of the higher ones, -the latter are sure eventually to get possession of the government. -The Western settlers, who are obliged to work, and their wives, who -must themselves superintend their households, have not even the time -necessary for forming those exclusive coteries which govern society in -the Atlantic cities.” - -“And yet,” said the Bostonian, “it is not more than a year ago that I -heard the wife of a Pittsburg lawyer complain of the state of their -society, which was ‘dreadfully’ spoiled by the number of adventurers -pouring in from the Eastern States.” - -“Capital!” cried my friend; “the probability is she herself was but -settled a few years.” - -“That was precisely her case,” rejoined the Bostonian; “and, while she -was playing the old family of the place, she wiped her children’s noses -with her apron.” - -“Now, I like that kind of aristocracy,” cried the doctor, “which -is obliged to wipe babies’ noses, and that kind of family which is -considered ancient when it has been three years stationary in a place; -for it affords the surest proof that the true elements out of which an -aristocracy may be formed are not yet to be found in the country.” - -“You are out again,” cried the Bostonian. “You Englishmen, for some -reason or other, never understand the particular genius of our people. -We have ‘lots’ of aristocracy in our country, cheap, and plenty as -bank-bills and credit, and equally subject to fluctuation. To-day it is -worth so much,--to-morrow more or less,--and, in a month, no one will -take it on any terms. We have, in fact, at all times, a _vast deal_ of -aristocracy; the only difficulty consists in retaining it. Neither is -the position of our aristocrats much to be envied. Amidst the general -happiness and prosperity of our people, their incessant cravings after -artificial distinctions are never satisfied; they are a beggarly set of -misers that will not sit down to dinner as long as there is a stranger -present whom they are obliged to ask; and, as for the women, their -position is truly deplorable. They are neither employed in domestic -pursuits, nor does our society furnish them the _agrémens_ of Europe. -In a country whose population is the most active and industrious in -the world, they are troubled with _ennui_, and have the whole livelong -day no other companions than a few inquisitive creatures of their own -sex. Were our women more engaged in the pursuits of active life,--were -our state of society such as to offer them a more extended sphere of -influence and usefulness,--did they receive less homage as _women_, and -more as rational accountable beings, their aristocratic squeamishness -would soon yield to a more sensible appreciation of character, and a -patriotic attachment to their country.” - -“The same aristocratic feeling which pervades our fashionable women, -operates also on our girls in the lower walks of life,” observed the -Southerner; “only that it is there called ‘independence.’ Now, I like -independence in men, but I despise it in women. The dependence of -women on men is the proper tie between the sexes, and the strong basis -of gallantry and chivalry. I dislike your ‘independent factory girls,’ -though they _did_ turn out six hundred strong, all dressed in white, to -be reviewed by General Jackson.”[3] - -“Since you mention the ‘independent factory girls,’ you ought not to -forget the girls of our independent press,” observed the Bostonian. - -“What sort of girls are those?” demanded my friend. - -“They are employed as compositors and _pressmen_ in our -printing-offices,” replied the Bostonian, “reducing the wages of our -journeymen printers, and preparing themselves for housekeeping by -composing the works of our best authors. I know two of them who became -expert cooks by composing ‘The Frugal Housewife,’ by Mrs. Child; and -a third prepared herself for her approaching marriage by setting up -‘The Mother’s Book.’ These girls, you must know, are distinguished -by a highly aristocratic feeling; and would no more condescend to -speak to one of our waiting-women, than the wife of a president of an -insurance-office would deign to leave a card for the poor consort of a -professor in one of our colleges. _They dress and act as ladies_; and, -if you do not believe their claims to ‘gentility,’ they will show them -to you in print.” - -“It is not more than a month ago, that, while in Washington, I had -occasion to call at the office of one of my friends who is an editor of -a daily paper. Not finding him there, I entered the press-room, where, -much to my surprise, I found three pretty girls, dressed as if they had -been measured by _Madame Victorine_, and in _bonnets_ corresponding to -the last fashion of the _Rue Vivienne_, busily engaged in multiplying -the speeches of our orators and statesmen. This, however, was done in -the most dignified manner; for when I asked for the master of the -establishment, where I could find him, when he would be in, &c. one of -them, in lieu of an answer, merely pointed to a large placard stuck to -one of the columns which supported the ceiling, on which there was the -following peremptory request, printed in gigantic letters:-- - -“‘_Gentlemen are requested not to stand and look about,--because the -ladies don’t like it._’” - -“And did you then immediately leave the room?” inquired the doctor. - -“I had no other alternative,” replied the Bostonian: “if I had remained -one minute longer, there would have been an article against me in -next morning’s paper. This is a sort of trades’ aristocracy formed by -the female part of our population; for such seems to be the disgust -of our girls for domestic occupation, that they will rather become -tailoresses, printers, bookbinders, or work at a manufactory, than -degrade themselves by ‘living out.’[4] And yet I am bound to say they -maintain their aristocratic dignity better than many a stockholder’s -wife and daughters; and I have never known a single instance in which -they did not completely succeed in keeping their fellow-workmen in -subjection and at a proper distance.” - -“This deserves a sentiment,” cried the doctor; “let us call on our -friend from Massachusetts to propose one.” - -“With all my heart, gentlemen,” said the Boston lawyer. “I give you -‘The Young Ladies’ Trades’ Union, and their champion Mr. C----y of -Philadelphia: may they never reduce the price of labour of their -fellow-workmen, but rather succeed in raising their own!’” - -“Bravo!” shouted the company; “and worth as much again, coming from -such a source. Old C----y himself could not have proposed a nobler -sentiment. Pity it won’t be published; it would make him immensely -popular!” - -“Pray, don’t pass him the bottle,” cried my friend; “he is done up for -to-day. I never knew a Bostonian to talk of raising the price of labour -except when he was drunk.” - -“Nor I either,” cried the doctor. “I always heard them boast that no -Jew could live amongst them, because they cheated him.” - -“Then let us vote him drunk, and fine him an extra bottle,” said the -doctor. - -“He will never forgive you _that_,” observed my friend. - -“Call for the wine,” cried the Bostonian; “call for it instantly,--we -must drink it on the spot.” - -“We shall not have time for it,” observed my friend; “for, if we do not -quit this very moment, the negroes will drive us away in order to set -the table for tea.” - -“You touched the bright side of his character,” whispered the doctor -to my friend as he was slowly rising from the table. “He has the most -irresistible aversion to spending money; but, when caught in a trap -like this, I don’t know a person who can affect so much generosity.” - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[2] This is generally done by gentlemen in the absence of footmen. - -[3] When General Jackson, on his tour through the Northern States, -visited Lowell, the girls employed in the cotton manufactories of that -place turned out, dressed in white, to welcome the American President. - -[4] The usual American appellation for living at service. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - Joining the Ladies.--Education of a Fashionable Young Lady in New - York--Her Accomplishments.--Tea without Gentlemen.--Commercial - Disasters not affecting the Routine of Amusements in the City of New - York.--The Theatre.--Forest come back to America.--Opinions of the - Americans on Shakspeare and the Drama.--Their Estimation of Forest as - an Actor.--Forest and Rice contrasted. - - “A maiden never bold; - Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion - Blush’d at herself. And she--in spite of nature, - Of years, of country, credit, everything,-- - To fall in love with what she feared to look on!” - - _Othello_, Act I. Scene 3. - - -On returning to the parlour, we found the ladies, whose number had -considerably increased by the arrival of some “transient people,” -alone; the gentlemen having “sneaked off” to their respective -counting-rooms. They were grouped round the piano, on which one -of those little creatures that played the exclusives of the -boarding-house was “practising” the “Infernal Waltz” from “Robert -the Devil;” the rest were talking, whispering, giggling, or amusing -themselves with feeling the quality of each other’s dresses. - -“What a delightful creature that Miss *** is, I declare!” said an -elderly lady, whose _embonpoint_ sufficiently proclaimed her Dutch -origin,--English women being said to grow rather thin in America; “her -mother must be proud of her.” - -“Yes,” replied another lady, who _was_ rather thin; “but it is said she -has not yet paid the teacher who taught her daughter all those pretty -things.” - -“That is nothing to the purpose; I speak of the young lady,” rejoined -the good-natured woman. - -“Surely,” whispered a young creature, who was none other than the young -girl I had lost sight of before entering the dining-room, “she knows -nothing about music; she has been practising that piece ever so long.” - -“That is a fact,” said her mother, addressing herself to me; “my -daughter went to the same school with her, they had the same masters, -and, with the exception of trigonometry and astronomy, for which Susan -never had any particular taste, she beat her in everything. My daughter -can play ‘The Storm;’ and her music-master tells me, when a young lady -can once do _that_ she can do anything.” - -I bowed assent. - -“And as for trigonometry,” she continued, “I care not how little -my daughter knows of that. It’s all _arches_, and _angles_, and -_compliments_, as she tells me, which are of no use to a young lady -except in society. But Susan knows a great deal more about _magnetism_ -and _electricity_,--don’t you, my child?” - -Here the girl looked very bashful. - -I congratulated the mother on possessing such a treasure; and was just -thinking of something pretty to say to the girl, when I was interrupted -by the old lady. - -“Yes,” said she, “although I ought not to say it, being my own child, -I was present at the last exhibition, when she explained the whole of -the electrical machine. And she is doing just as well in history. How -far have you got in that, Susan?” - -“About _two-thirds_ through with the book,” said Susan; “but how queer -you talk, Ma!” - -“And pray, madam, what boarding-school is it your daughter went to?” -demanded I. - -“It’s the _first_ in the country, sir--kept by the Misses ***, at T***, -three miles from A***.” - -“And what branches are taught in that school?” demanded I, with an -ill-suppressed feeling of curiosity. - -“I don’t remember all the hard names, sir,” replied the old lady, -somewhat embarrassed. “Susan, my child, tell the gentleman all you have -learnt at the Misses ***.” - -“We had reading, writing, spelling, arithmetic, grammar, geography, -history, maps, the globe, algebra, geometry, trigonometry, astronomy, -natural philosophy, chemistry, botany, physiology, mineralogy, -geology, and zoology in the morning; and dancing, drawing, painting, -French, Italian, Spanish, and German in the afternoon. Greek, and the -higher branches of mathematics, were only studied by the _tall_ girls.” - -“And how many masters were there for teaching all that?” demanded I, -astonished with the volubility of the young lady’s tongue. - -“The Misses *** teach _everything_,” replied the girl. “They wouldn’t -allow a gentleman to enter the house.” - -“I know this to be a fact,” interrupted the mother; “and that’s the -reason their school is so popular. It is principally on the score of -morality I sent Susan there. They have always as many girls as they -want, and from the first families too;--isn’t it so, my dear?” - -“Just so, Ma,” replied the young lady. “The first girls in New York are -educated there; they don’t take everybody.” - -“I told you so,” said the old lady. “It’s a great thing to send a girl -there; and an expensive one too, I can assure you.” - -“And what is the usual age of the young ladies?” demanded I. - -“They take them from the age of five to the age of eighteen,” she -replied; “it is only a month ago I left it myself.” - -“I just wanted to give her a little polish before taking her to -Washington, where we are going to spend the next winter,” interrupted -her mother. “So I took her with me to New York, to let her see European -manners. We reside in T***, rather a little out of the way of society.” - -“I am sure Ma is very kind,” said Susan. “I don’t know anybody in T***, -nor do I _want_ to know anybody there. I never associated with any but -the New York girls at the Misses ***; I was quite popular, and always -belonged to their first sets.” - -“I am sure of that,” said the mother. “Everybody that sees Susan likes -her.” - -I put my hand upon my heart. - -“I only trust to Heaven that she will marry a gentleman capable -of appreciating her education”--(here the young lady applied -her handkerchief to her face, and appeared to be very much -embarrassed,)--“and not a man without taste for literature or science, -whom she could neither love nor respect, and who would be no _sort_ of -company to her.” - -I trusted her amiable daughter would never be so horribly deceived. - -“And yet it is _so_ difficult to judge of men in these times, -especially in New York, where young men keep their knowledge as secret -as their cash, and have generally credit for more than they are worth,” -interrupted my friend sympathisingly. - -“Ah me!” sighed the old lady; “it did not use to be so when _my_ -husband was alive. There was not one girl out of ten of my acquaintance -knew a word of Latin and mathematics; and yet they all married -respectable men, who were no mathematicians either, and brought up -their children in a right Christian manner. But they say this is the -progress of education; and I do not wish my daughter to be inferior to -other girls. Boys don’t cost half so much; they learn everything they -want at the counting-room.” - -“And what they learn there _sticks_ to them as long as they live,” -added my friend. - -Here mother and daughter were silent; and my friend, seizing the -opportunity, took my arm, and led me to another part of the room, where -my companion of the dinner-table was sitting alone, reading “The Last -Days of Pompeii.” - -“Ah!” exclaimed he, “always reading. Pray, how do you like Bulwer?” - -“Not at all,” replied she. - -“Why then do you read him?” - -“Everybody does so, and I don’t want to be singular.” - -“But I should think you had independence enough not to read a book if -you did not like it?” - -“Why, I am sure it is not for want of independence I took it up; but -Bulwer is popular in England, and I would not give an English person -the advantage of talking about a work I have not read myself.” - -“And is that the only reason? Do you take no pleasure in his novels?” -demanded my friend with astonishment. - -“None whatever, I assure you. I don’t like his maudlin sentiments. And, -as for his prison heroes, I am too much of a matter-of-fact person to -think the gallows romantic or poetical. I dare say Bulwer’s novels suit -the sentimentality of the Germans; but to me they are a perfect dose. -I dislike his description of passions,--his love-sick girls, dying -with sentiment, and ready to run off with the first bearded biped that -happens to strike their fancy. I think his novels are doing a vast -deal of mischief in this country, _exposed as we are to the continual -intrusion of foreigners_.” - -“I am not quite sure,” replied my friend, “whether I am to take your -remark as a compliment or a reflection. We Southerners are sometimes -honoured with the title of ‘foreigners’ in the Northern States.” - -“I do not speak of our own people,” rejoined the lady; “but I know -several instances in which European adventurers have married into our -first families. Our girls seem to have an unaccountable passion for -foreigners, especially if they happen to be noblemen. Have not several -Polish refugees in this city married the daughters of some of our first -merchants?” - -“And what harm is there in that, if the Poles make good husbands, and -prove themselves honourable men?” demanded my friend. - -“Why, it’s always such an experiment,” she replied, “when one of our -young ladies marries an European! People from the Old World entertain -such different notions about women. Besides, a great many of our girls -have been taken in: they expected to marry a prince, or at least a -count, when their husbands turned out to have been strolling minstrels -or dancing-masters. One of those unfortunate marriages was very nigh -taking place the other day, and only prevented by the father of the -young lady making a compromise with her admirer in the shape of a -handsome sum of money. Another European Don Juan, who was flirting with -every young lady in Boston, was considered so dangerous a personage, -that the respectable merchants of that city made a very handsome -collection to get rid of him by shipping him back to Europe.” - -“And I heard that, having spent the money, he made them another visit -to lay them under a fresh contribution,” observed my friend. - -“I believe that _was_ the case,” affirmed the lady; “and every Atlantic -city is exposed to the same calamity. _If we could only tell the real -nobleman from the impostor_, I should not care. I prefer, myself, the -higher society of Europe to the business people of this country; but, -lately, _Continental_ noblemen have come in droves, and a greater set -of beggars was never known in America. By the by, do you know what has -become of that handsome Spanish marquis, who last year was so much the -fashion in Philadelphia?” - -“The Marquis de *** you mean? I lived with him for nearly three weeks -without knowing his title: he is one of the most unassuming men I ever -knew.” - -“And yet I can assure you he is a _real_ marquis,” retorted the young -lady. “Some of our people took a great deal of pains to ascertain -the truth. He brought letters to Mr. ***, and to the *** Consul in -Philadelphia; and they have written to Europe to learn all about -his family. If every foreigner coming to this country were equally -respectable, there would be no complaints about impostors; but our -people are too easily taken in by high-sounding titles.” - -“But do you know the marquis is poor? that he cannot at this moment -realise a dollar from his estate?” demanded my friend. - -“Ah, that is very unfortunate! poverty is _such_ a drawback!” - -“But he set out to make an honest living in the United States.” - -“Not by teaching Spanish, I hope. Nothing can be more pitiable than the -avocation of an instructor.” - -“Indeed he was a long time resolved to do that; but, being a very -handsome man, I was told no fashionable lady would intrust to him the -instruction of her daughter: so he cut the matter short by opening a -fashionable boarding-house; just the thing for him, you know; he speaks -half-a-dozen languages, and plays the piano equal to some of your first -professors.” - -“O horror!” exclaimed the young lady. “A marquis establishing a -boarding-house! If I had known that, I should not have mentioned his -name. That must, of course, have thrown him at once out of society.” - -“I believe he had prudence enough to quit society before the latter had -a chance to abandon _him_,” observed my friend calmly. - -The young lady made no reply, and was fortunately relieved from her -embarrassment by another negro summons to tea, equally loud, though -less potent in its consequences than that which had called us to -dinner. I expected another rush to the dining-room, but was agreeably -disappointed. Not a single gentleman made his appearance; so that, with -the exception of the two young ladies whom we had before had the honour -of escorting, the women were obliged to form into single file, which -proceeded with the solemnity and slowness of a funeral procession.[5] - -Arrived near the table, they took their seats in profound silence, -and with such evident signs of exhaustion from fatigue, that I felt -inclined to believe that they had not yet recovered from the exertion -of the dinner. Nothing, indeed, can be more tiresome than a dinner -at which one does not eat; it is equal to a ball at which one does -not dance, or to a _conversazione_ at which one is obliged merely to -listen to the nonsense of others. I inquired what had become of the -gentlemen? and was told that they had not yet returned from their -counting-rooms,--that they hardly ever took tea, but were rarely absent -from supper, which was sure to be put on the table at nine o’clock -in the evening, in order to remain there till three or four in the -morning. The gentlemen, moreover, I was informed, were so much in the -habit of eating oyster suppers early in the morning, in some of those -innumerable subterraneous eating-houses and oyster-rooms which decorate -the Park and other fashionable avenues of the city, that they did not -“particularly care” about taking a cup of tea and a cold piece of meat -at seven o’clock with the ladies. Dinner was quite a different concern, -for which they were always ready to suffer some inconvenience. - -The conversation at tea flagged from the very beginning; and it was -easy to perceive that the ladies, being accustomed to make this meal -the occasion of their regular confabulations, considered my and my -friend’s company rather _de trop_. We therefore pleaded an appointment -with some gentlemen, and, in the words of a French vaudevillist, “did -them the pleasure of afflicting them with our departure.” - - * * * * * - -“What are you going to do with yourself this evening?” demanded my -friend, as we were going towards the Astor House. - -“I shall look into the Park-street theatre,” replied I, “and then -spend the remainder of the evening at Mrs. ***’s.” - -“Then I shall have the pleasure of being with you all the evening,” -rejoined he. “Mrs. ***’s party will be one of the finest given this -season.” - -“Which is perhaps not saying much for it, as the commercial -difficulties of this year must necessarily interfere with all -amusements of that sort.” - -“That does not follow,” observed my friend; “neither is it actually the -case. Public amusements are going on as usual,--our theatres are well -attended,--crowds of well-dressed people are nightly listening to good, -bad, and indifferent concerts at Niblo’s garden,--horse-races are going -on in fine style, and are this year surpassing all that is on record -by the gentlemen of the turf,--there is the same quantity of champaign -drunk as in former years;--in short, people seem to do as well with -their ‘shin-plasters’[6] as formerly with redeemable bank-notes. Our -merchants are certainly the most extraordinary people in the world; -and, if every other resource were to fail them, would not hesitate one -moment, instead of payment, to take and offer drafts payable in the -moon. That’s what I call the genius of a mercantile community.” - -“And the way of keeping up appearances by credit.” - -“But the credit system enhances their profits more than in proportion -to their liability to losses,” remarked my friend; “and, besides, -sharpens their wits, by obliging them to inquire into the character of -those whom they trust.” - -“All this may be very well with regard to one merchant and another. -Both find their remedy in the enlarged profits of the system; but the -consumer is obliged to pay the advanced price of the merchandize. This -is taxing the labouring classes for the defalcations of the traders. -Besides, when a failure takes place, the merchant, who is more or less -prepared for it, loses generally but a part of his profit; but, if the -creditor be a mechanic, he loses the whole fruit of his labour.” - -“But the American merchants say, if it were not for the credit system, -the labour of the mechanic would not command nearly so high a price.” - -“And I can assure you,” said I, “that this is altogether an erroneous -conclusion. The wages of the journeyman mechanic or the day-labourer, -and the prices of the common necessaries of life, are _not_ in -proportion to the credit of the merchants--but to the actual demand and -supply. During all this trouble, and while the banks stopped specie -payments, all sorts of provisions were unusually high, and so were all -articles of manufacture. All that the credit system of your merchants -can do consists in creating, _for a time_, an artificial demand, -and thereby raising, for a short period, the price of a peculiar -description of labour; but, if you will take the pains of examining -the history of American trade, you will find every such extraordinary -price of labour soon after followed by a proportional depression, which -could not but prove a greater disappointment to the workmen than would -have been a regular succession of moderate prices.” - -“I said that the credit system favoured only _for a time_ particular -trades and occupations; because it is a well-known fact that the -Americans seldom follow the same trade a great number of years. Let -it be known that the cotton speculations of one or two individuals -have been successful, and immediately half the merchants in the -United States will commence speculating in cotton, until the trade is -completely run down, and half the speculators reduced to bankruptcy. -When, in the course of last year, twenty millions of dollars were to -be raised on credit to pay for the purchase of public lands, what -influence did _that_ have on the industry of our working men, except -that the diverting of a large portion of the capital from which -they received their emoluments, into a different channel, reduced -the demand for, and consequently the value of, their industry? But -even granting that the American credit system, which is said to act -favourably with regard to the merchants, proves also a benefit to the -small trader, the mechanic, and the farmer, would not the prosperity of -the latter entirely depend on the former? and would not the extension -or restriction of credit, which, with such a system, can always be -effected by the rich capitalists, affect the demand and supply, and -place the whole community at the mercy of a few individuals?” - -“And what is the moral effect of the credit system on the sturdy -husbandman or the mechanic? Instead of being sure of the price of his -labour,--a surety without which the labouring classes of all countries -lack the principal stimulus to exertion,--he sees his success in -business reduced to a game of hazard; in which, like other gamblers, -he often stakes his whole fortune on a single chance. Hence, instead -of adopting a course of rigid economy, he indulges in reckless -expenditure, and a degree of luxury which sooner or later may prove -the grave of the republican institutions of the country. For why -should a man be saving, whose success depends, not on frugality, but -on a ‘successful hit’? and who, in a single speculation, may lose the -savings of years?” - -“That is a fact,” observed my friend. “How many of the gentlemen that -dined with us to-day do you think are possessed of real property? Not -one-third of them. And yet they are all ‘young, respectable merchants,’ -as a certain New York paper calls them, doing ‘a handsome business’ -on a borrowed capital. You could see them again at the theatre, and, -after that, dashing at some fashionable party, where they will talk of -thousands as of mere bagatelles. And yet nothing acts so demoralizingly -on a community as the insecurity or instability of property. I would -rather see the United States ‘progress slowly and steadily,’ than, -as they have done, by fits and starts, with periods of commercial -calamities, such as no European nation has felt under the yoke of the -most odious tyrant.” - - * * * * * - -“What’s going on this evening?” demanded my friend of the box-keeper at -the Park-street theatre. “I understand Forest has come back.” - -“Yes, sir; fresh from England.” - -“Is he to play this evening?” - -“Here is the bill, sir. He is going to play Othello.” - -“Pretty full house?” - -“I don’t believe you will find a seat. There was a great rush for -tickets this morning. The best boxes were sold at auction to the -highest bidder.” - -With this piece of information we lost no time in seeking a place, and -were fortunate enough to be able to squeeze ourselves into a box on the -first tier, filled with little more than eighteen or nineteen people, -most of whom seemed to belong to the first society. A stranger always -feels agreeably surprised at the neat arrangement of the interior of -the Park-street theatre, whose outward appearance resembles much more -a Dutch granary than a temple of the Muses. The first tier of boxes -displayed, as usual, one of the choicest collections of fine women -it had ever been my good fortune to behold in any part of the world: -the effect of the second was scarcely inferior to that of the first: -while the third, which in America, as in England, is almost exclusively -reserved for those unfortunate wretches on whom society wreaks its -vengeance for the commission of crimes in which the principal offender -escapes but too frequently with impunity,--presented, as yet, nothing -but empty benches. In a short time, however, these began to fill with -such pale, sad, haggard-looking creatures as seemed to have escaped -from Purgatory to seek a few moments’ relief from their torments. -Immediately above them was the gallery of the gods, which on this -occasion, however, bore a much greater resemblance to the infernal -regions, being studded with the grinning visages of negroes, the -outlines of whose sable countenances so completely inter-mingled with -one another as to present but one huge black mass, from which the -white of their eyes and teeth was shooting streaks of light like so -many burning tapers from an ocean of darkness. The whole seemed to be -a reversion of the unrivalled fiction of Dante,--the _angels_ being -_below_, and the _damned_ occupying the _upper_ regions,--as if it were -the purpose of the Americans to invert even the order of the universe. - -It was now very nearly seven o’clock; and the impatience of the -audience began, very differently from that of Boston, to manifest -itself by shrill whistles, loud screams and yells, and the beating of -hands and canes. At last the orchestra, composed of very little more -than twenty musicians, began to play something like an overture; which, -however, was completely drowned in the noise from the pit and gallery, -who seemed to look upon the musical prelude as an unnecessary delay of -the drama. At last the music stopped, and, amid the loud acclamations -of the people, - - Enter _Roderigo_ and _Iago_. - - _Roderigo._--“Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly - That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse - As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.” - -“Who plays _Iago_?” demanded a young lady in the box, addressing the -gentleman behind her. - -“Only one of our _ordinary Americans_,” answered he. “We have not had a -decent _Iago_ since Kemble left us.” - -“I thought Kemble made an excellent _Cassio_,” observed the lady. - -“That he made indeed,” replied the gentleman. “I never saw an actor -perform the part of a tippler better than he did. It was perfectly -natural to him.” - -“Yes,” rejoined the lady; “he could admirably perform the part of a -tipsy _gentleman_, while _our_ actors only play the part of a drunken -blackguard. I think it ridiculous to go and see one of Shakspeare’s -plays performed on one of our stages. But they say Forest has much -improved while in England, and that the first nobility went to see -him.” - -“That’s a fact,” ejaculated the gentleman; “I have seen it in the -papers, or I should not be here this evening.” - - _Iago._--“And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof, - At Rhodes, at Cyprus, and on other grounds, - Christian and heathen, must be be-lee’d and calm’d - By debitor and creditor. This counter-caster, - He, in good time must his lieutenant be; - And I (God bless the mark!) his moorship’s ancient!” - -“Is it not singular,” observed a gentleman right before us to his -neighbour, “that Shakspeare, who with the English passes for the -arch-inspector of human nature, should have had so poor and erroneous -an estimate of the character of a merchant? If an American author were -to bestow the opprobrious epithet of ‘counter-caster’ on a member of -that most respectable part of our community, nothing could save him -from being Lynched.” - -“The character of a merchant,” replied his neighbour, “is decidedly one -in which Shakspeare was altogether unsuccessful. Take, for instance, -his ‘Merchant of Venice.’ What a ludicrous caricature his Antonio -is! On the one hand, the very paragon of prudence,--a man who in -‘riskiness’ would be outdone by the veriest Yankee shopkeeper; while, -on the other, he stakes his whole credit to aid the foolish adventures -of a lover! His merchant has no notion of banking; for - - ‘He lends out money gratis, and brings down - The rate of usance.’” - -“And then becomes security for a friend,” added the first,--“not merely -by putting his name on the back of a bill, but by pledging his flesh! -How very improbable! And then again consider his insolence to Shylock, -of whom he wants to borrow money; which is about as wise as if an -American who wants credit were to insult Nic’las Biddle!” - -“All my sympathies in that play,” rejoined the second, “are with the -Jew; who, after all, claimed nothing that was not lawful, and in every -one of his speeches evinces more common sense than the Christian, who -suffers his vessels to go to sea without having them insured. - - ‘And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not,’ - -is a very good motto. The Jew is no fool, I tell you.” - -“Quite a sensible man, that,” exclaimed a sharp-featured, long-headed, -grey-eyed, raw-boned male figure who had taken his stand by the side of -us, and had evidently overheard the severe critic: “if it were not for -our _thrifty_ merchants, I do not know _what_ figure we should make in -the world!” - -Here the commentators on Shakspeare looked round and measured the -pedlar (for such he was from his language and appearance), and then -turned back again with a doubtful shrug of their shoulders, which had -the effect of completely silencing the “Down-Easter.” - -The momentary quiet produced by the cold rebuke of the gentlemen was -soon taken advantage of by the ladies, who, engaging with each other in -loud conversation, notwithstanding the cries of “Hold your tongues!” -from the pit, gave the strongest possible proof of their fashionable -indifference with regard to ordinary acting; until, at last, the -appearance of _Othello_ silenced every voice with the universal roar -of applause from the pit, boxes, and galleries. _Othello_ bowed, -the ladies observing “that he had learned that in England.” Fresh -acclamations and plaudits, followed by renewed acknowledgments on the -part of the actor; during which _Iago_ finishes his speech, and gives -the cue to _Othello_. - - _Othello._--“’Tis better as it is.” - -“After all, I do not see what the English people liked in Forest,” -observed a lady on the front seat. “I think him excessively clumsy.” - -“He is just the man to play the gladiator,” replied her fair neighbour; -“but I dare say he is the first English actor now living.” - -“Unquestionably,” resumed the first. “How Macready must have been -jealous of him!” - -“And, in fact, every other English actor!” added the second. “You know -the prejudices of John Bull with regard to America.” - - _Othello._--“For know, Iago, - But that I love the gentle Desdemona, - I would not my unhoused free condition - Put into circumscription, and confine, - For the sea’s worth.” - -“A fine moral lesson, this, for our young men that want to get -married!” exclaimed an elderly lady, turning round to the gentleman -behind her. - -“You must not forget, ma’am, that he is but a negro,” replied the -gentleman. - -“I don’t like this play at all,” rejoined the lady. “I think it immoral -from beginning to end.” - -“And most unnatural too!” vociferated the gentleman. “A white woman to -fall in love with a black man!” - -“And the daughter of a senator too!” exclaimed the lady. - -“It’s preaching a regular amalgamation doctrine! The play ought not to -be allowed to be performed before our negroes.” - -“But he was not a negro,” exclaimed a young lady; “he was a Moor, Ma: -there is an immense difference between these two races. I am sure no -_lady_ would fall in love with a negro.” - -“Or with anything that is coloured,” added the elderly lady with -dignity. - -“If we stay in this box,” observed my friend, “we shall have no chance -of listening to the performance. They are sure to make an abolition -question of it. Let us seek a place elsewhere.” - -We accordingly scrambled out of our little prison, and, making the -round of the tier, discovered two slips in a box not far from the -stage, which was almost wholly occupied by gentlemen. - -“It must be allowed after all,” said the one; “Forest _is_ the greatest -actor America ever produced.” - -“An enthusiast,” replied another, “who has encouraged the drama not -only with his play, but also with his purse.” - -“By putting a prize on the best tragedy written in America; which, at -any rate, is more than any of his patrons would have done on this side -of the Atlantic.” - -“And then Forest is a self-taught man, who has never had any model to -form himself after.” - -“And, besides,” resumed the first, “he is a _modest_ man, who seldom -undertakes what he is not equal to. It is for this reason he hesitated -so long before he ventured to appear in one of Shakspeare’s plays in -England.” - -“And he did well to hesitate,” replied another; “he appears to much -greater advantage in one of our Indian dramas.” - -“Come,” said the first, “none of your English prejudices, Tom! You -seem to forget that Forest declined being run for representative in -Congress; or, as _I_ heard the story, that he _was_ run and elected -without his consent, and that he refused to take his seat.” - -“So would I have done in his place,” rejoined Tom. “What man of talent -would forsake a respectable position in society, in order to earn eight -dollars a day in Washington by making or listening to dull speeches?”[7] - -“With such notions about you, you had better go at once to England.” - -“That’s what I am about to do. I shall sail in the next packet.” - -“How long do you mean to stay in Europe?” - -“As long as possible; nothing but absolute necessity shall ever bring -me back to this country.” - -“Then it would be cruel to wish you a speedy return!” - -(Tom took his hat, and left the box.) - - _Iago._--“Thou art sure of me; go, make money.” - -“_Iago_ is no fool,” observed a gentleman, who, until now, had -attentively listened to the play, struck with so sensible a remark. - -“Nor _Othello_ either,” replied another. “Forest must be worth upwards -of a hundred thousand dollars. Do you know whether he has got any money -by his wife?” - -“I do not,” observed the former; “but Forest is a sensible man, and so -I rather think he has.” - -“But he must have made a good deal of money in London. Do you know what -his engagements were?” - -“I have heard different accounts; but he must have made money in _this_ -country.” - -“How much do you think?” - -“Fifty thousand dollars at least; and, now that he has succeeded in -England, he will make a great deal more.” - -“How much do you suppose he makes to-night?” - -“Let us count the boxes, and I will tell you in an instant. Have you -got a piece of paper and a lead pencil?” - -“I won’t stay here either,” said my friend. “Let us see whether we -cannot find a place up stairs. When these fellows once begin to talk -about money, they are not likely soon to change their conversation: -and, besides, I can only stay another act; I have a particular reason -for being early at Mrs. * * *’s.” - -I willingly consented to the proposition; and, the first act being -over, accompanied my friend to the second tier of boxes. This time -we took our seats among a set of people evidently “from the Western -country,” from the natural sagacity of whose remarks my friend and I -anticipated a great deal of amusement. They seemed to be in the best -humour; and, though somewhat noisy, (for they looked upon the theatre -with little more deference than upon a public-house, and “upon the fun -that’s going on there” in the light of “an election spree,”) enjoyed -the play better than the people of fashion who had congregated to -endorse the opinion of the British public. I had not, however, much -time to listen to them, as I had promised to meet a friend at half-past -eight; but the little I heard satisfied me that, much as they liked -_Forest_, they loved _Rice_ more,--the latter being, after all, “_the_ -real genuine nigger, the very bringing down of whose foot was worth the -price of a ticket.” - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[5] In the larger boarding-houses in America, tea is not handed round, -but served like a regular meal on the dining-table. - -[6] This part of my friend’s journal seems to have been written in the -summer of the year 1837, when, shortly after the suspension of specie -payments, the country was flooded with small notes of 6¹⁄₄, 12¹⁄₂, and -25 cents, which were termed “shin-plasters.” - -[7] Eight dollars a day is the pay of every member and senator in -Congress. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - Description of an American Rout.--A Flirtation.--The Floor kept by - the same Set of Dancers.--Fashionable Characters.--An Unfortunate - Girl at a Party.--Inquiry instituted in her Behalf.--Anecdote of - two Fashionable Young Ladies at Nahant.--Aristocratic Feelings - of the Americans carried Abroad.--Anecdotes.--Reflections on the - Manners of the Higher Classes.--Anecdotes illustrative of Western - Politeness and Hospitality.--Kentucky Hospitality.--Hypocrisy of the - Higher Orders of Americans.--Aristocracy in Churches.--An American - Aristocrat compared to Shylock.--A Millionnaire.--Two Professional - Men.--Stephen Gerard.--A Gentleman of Norman Extraction.--Different - Methods resorted to for procuring Ancestors.--American and the - English contrasted.--A Country Representative.--Method of making - him desert his Principles.--Political Synonyms.--Contempt for - Democracy.--Expectations of the American Aristocracy.--Objections to - Waltzing.--Announcement of Supper. - - “Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine, - (Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine,) - Long be thy import from all duty free, - And hock itself be less esteem’d than thee!” - - BYRON. - - -It was half-past ten when I made my appearance at Mrs. * * *’s “rout.” -The rooms were richly decorated, and the company in excellent spirits. -My friend had already arrived, and was talking to a young lady in one -of the corners of the dancing-room; which was called “a desperate -flirtation,” inasmuch as the young lady appeared to be past sixteen, -and not yet twenty, and the gentleman in circumstances which enabled -him to support a wife. Similar flirtations were going on in other parts -of the room; the married ladies being seated on benches or settees -near the walls, and acting, if not as judges, at least as recorders -of the events. The music, consisting chiefly of clarionets, flutes, -and horns, was stationed to great advantage in the entry; leaving not -only more room for the dancers in the parlour, but softening also the -harmony of sounds by the greater distance. The ladies, especially -those who danced, were, in point of dress, the exact copies of the -patterns issued weekly in the French metropolis; and the gentlemen, -though apparently timid in the presence of so many beauties, looked, -nevertheless, sufficiently smart and enterprising for men of business. - -I looked for a while on the group of dancers, in hopes of perceiving -some slight variation, but was not a little annoyed by seeing -continually the same figures and the same dancers. I afterwards -communicated my surprise to my friend, but was told that I was in a -fashionable house, in which none but fashionable young ladies and -gentlemen could be expected “to have the floor;” and that if, from -courtesy, some other people had been invited, it was expected they -would have sufficient good sense not to obtrude themselves on the -notice of the company, and least of all to make themselves conspicuous -by joining in a quadrille or a waltz. “There are,” added he, “some -dozen of young girls here dying to show their ‘steps,’ but none of the -fashionable young men would risk his standing in society by bringing -them out; and, as for the young men of neither family nor wealth, who -are only asked because they are relations of the house, (a custom which -is by no means general in the United States,) they know their place too -well to be guilty of such an impropriety. - -“Whenever one of our wealthy stockholders,” continued he, “invites a -poor devil to his house, the particular relation of entertainer and -guest changes nothing in the relative position of the parties: the rich -man still continues to assume the peculiar insolent condescension of a -patron; while the man without credit will exhibit in his conduct the -humiliating consciousness of his ‘insufficiency.’ If you took notice of -the manner in which the lady of the house courtesyed to the gentlemen -that were presented to her, you must have been able to distinguish -the capitalist from the poor beginner, or unsuccessful speculator, as -effectually as if their property had been announced with their names. -Every additional thousand produces a new smile; for it is impossible -for our people to consider a man independently of his circumstances.” - -“This,” observed I, “is the fault of every practical nation, especially -of the English, who are the most purse-proud and exclusive people in -Europe.” - -“I know that,” replied he: “but the English reward talent of every -description higher than any other nation in the world; so that money -is, in a certain sense, the just measure of capacity. In America, on -the contrary, there are but few branches of _industry_, and almost none -of _learning_, which are sure of meeting with an adequate remuneration -in money; so that, if men are merely judged by their wealth, the -meanest bank or counting-house clerk, or a common shopkeeper, has a -better chance of arriving at respectability than the most successful -scholar in the most difficult branches of human learning. Society, in -this manner, must become lower and lower every day; there being no -entailed estates or large hereditary possessions in the United States, -securing to a privileged class the necessary means and leisure for the -gratuitous pursuit of arts and sciences. And, as for the English being -exclusive, you forget that, when English people assume that character, -they possess generally the tact and _à-plomb_ necessary for carrying it -off; whereas, here you often meet the same spirit among people whose -wealth is _credit_ and _expectancy_, and whose manners and education -are identified solely with the desk and ledger. Thus the terms -‘patron’ and ‘client’ are in New York, for instance, synonymous with -‘creditor’ and ‘debtor;’ and as the banks, according to the prevalent -system of credit, must inevitably be the creditors of nine-tenths of -the community, every person connected with them--and, above all, a -stockholder, cashier, or president--must necessarily be a patrician. -The whole composition of our society is arithmetical; each gentleman -ranking according to the numerical index of his property. You need only -watch the conduct of the society in this room, and you will satisfy -yourself of the truth of my assertion. - -“Do you know that lady in pink satin,” he continued, “who is talking to -the lady dressed in white, across that modest-looking woman with the -pale face, who is evidently embarrassed by this rudeness?” - -I replied in the negative. - -“The first,” he said, “is the daughter of an honest shoemaker, who -has become very rich by his industry, and is bitterly grieved by the -aristocratic haughtiness of his daughter. I have heard it asserted that -he often threatened her to hang up a last in his parlour, instead of a -coat of arms, to punish the ridiculous pretensions of his family.” - -“Such a character,” said I, “would have done credit to a Dutch -burgomaster in the best times of the republic. But who is the lady thus -planted between two of her sex, who are determined to take no more -notice of her than if her chair were empty?” - -“She is the wife of an American commodore,” replied he; “one of the -most gallant officers in the navy, who has shed his blood in his -country’s service. What further comment does this require?--what -greater proof would you have of the insufferable arrogance of our -moneyed aristocracy?” - -“Let us follow that young lady, whose face I have never seen before in -society,” observed my friend after a short pause: “she looks as though -she had never been used to company, and will probably become the butt -of the aristocratic misses who keep possession of the floor.” - -The unfortunate girl, led by a young man, who, to judge from his -manners, was a stranger in the city, had scarcely entered the -dancing-room before every eye was turned upon her, and the most -insolent, half-loud inquiry instituted as to “who she was,” and “where -she came from?” - -“Do you know that girl?” demanded a young lady, who had just stopped -dancing, loud enough for her to hear. - -“I never saw her before in my life, _I_ am sure,” replied the -_ballerina_ who had been addressed, with a toss of her head; “do _you_ -know her?” - -“Indeed I don’t; I wonder how she got here!” resumed the first. - -Here a third lady walked up, and examined the dress of the stranger; -then, joining a small circle, “I am sure,” said she, in an audible -whisper, “it’s not worth seventy-five cents a yard.” - -“And who is that unlicked cub that’s with her?” demanded another lady. - -“Heaven alone knows!” answered a voice; “I dare say, just come from the -woods!” - -“With his mouth full of tobacco!” - -“I hope she isn’t going to dance; if she does, I shall leave the room.” - -“I sha’n’t stay either.” - -One half of this conversation the poor girl must have heard, as she -was standing close to the speakers, and could not even escape from the -sting of their remarks through the crowd that obstructed the passage; -for it is the custom in America, as in England, for people who give -parties to invite as many persons as possible, in order to have the -satisfaction of a full room. She was on the point of bursting into -tears; and yet the young, fashionable tigresses, of from sixteen to -twenty years of age, had not feeling enough to take pity on her. I -am aware that, in describing that of which I was an eye-witness, I -shall scarcely be believed by my English or German readers, because -it is almost impossible for an educated European to conceive the -degree of rudeness, insolence, and effrontery, and the total want of -consideration for the feelings of others, which I have often seen -practised in what is called the “first society” of the United States. -I have seen in Boston, or rather in Nahant, a small watering-place -in the neighbourhood of that city, two girls,--one the daughter of -a president of an insurance-office, and the other the child of a -merchant,--supporting their heads with their elbows, and in this -position staring at each other for several minutes across a public -table; each believing that her standing in society entitled her to the -longest stare, and that the other, being the daughter of a man of less -consideration and property, should have modesty enough to cast down her -eyes. - -The same kind of feelings the Americans carry even across the Atlantic. -In Paris, Florence, Rome, and other places on the Continent, (in -England they have no particular practice of their own, but merely -follow in the wake of the nobility,) they form as many distinct sets -and coteries as at home; imitating, by degrees, every ridiculous -fashion of France and Italy, and endeavouring by their wealth to pave -the road to the highest society, and to keep from it the less fortunate -part of their countrymen. Two instances of this kind came to my -personal knowledge. - -About three years ago, while a friend of mine happened to be in -Vienna, he met at Mr. S***’s, the United States’ consul, a party of -Americans, composed of a number of gentlemen and ladies from Boston, -Baltimore, and South Carolina. The conversation ran on different -topics, until one of the company introduced in his remarks the names -of some fashionable people of Boston with whom he professed to be -acquainted. Upon this, Mr. ***, descended from one of the wealthiest -and most vulgar aristocratic families of that place, and who pretended -to know “everybody,” whispered something into the consul’s ear, and -requested him to step with him into the next room. There, as my friend -afterwards learned, he assumed at once the rank and office of grand -inquisitor; cross-examining the poor consul as to “where he had picked -up that man?” and declaring finally that he must be an impostor, as -_he_ did not know him, nor _ever heard his name mentioned before_, -(this is the usual phrase employed by “respectable” Americans when -they wish to repudiate a person as not belonging to their set). After -he had thus discharged the duties of a high-born citizen, he resumed -his seat at a little distance from “the impostor,” and remained silent -for the rest of the evening. Poor Mr. ***, who was really a gentleman -of slender means, could not but perceive the prejudice which his -fellow-townsman had excited in the mind of his hospitable entertainer, -and soon afterwards left the company. - -Another instance of this kind occurred at Munich between two Americans; -one a regular resident of the place for many years, and the other a -traveller, who imagined he had held a higher rank in America than his -compatriot. The latter, of course, immediately set out to communicate -his scruple to the consul, and the _attachés_ of the *** legation; -assuring them that the gentleman they had taken into favour was neither -a scholar nor a man of high standing, and was consequently not entitled -to their attention. All this was done while the other person was absent -from town, and for no other purpose than impressing the society of -Munich with the fact “that there is a great deal of aristocracy in -America, and that he himself was one of its noblest representatives.” -The American ministers in London, Paris, Berlin, and St. Petersburgh, -and the consuls in the different commercial cities of Europe, are -usually made the repositories of all the slander which one set or -_coterie_ may have in store against the other; and, as no peculiar -discretion is exercised by Americans in the treatment of high public -functionaries, the latter themselves do not often escape uninjured, -the public press furnishing the meanest scribbler with the means of -wreaking his vengeance. - -The fact is, the _soi-disant_ higher classes of Americans, in quitting -the simple, manly, moral, industrious habits of the great mass of -the people,--habits which alone have won them the respect of the -world,--have no fixed standard by which to govern their actions, either -with regard to themselves or their fellow beings; no manners, customs, -modes of thinking, &c. of their own; no community of feelings; nothing -which could mark them as a distinct class, except their contempt for -the lower classes, and their dislike of their own country. How should -such an order of beings agree amongst themselves? How should they be -able to make themselves, or those around them, comfortable? There is -more courtesy in the apparent rudeness of the Western settler than in -the assumed politeness of the city stockholder,--more true hospitality -in the log-house of the backwoodsman, than in any of the mansions of -the presidents and directors of banks with whom it has been my good -fortune to become acquainted. - -I remember, some years ago, when travelling with a distant relative -on the borders of the Mississippi, to have been approaching the -habitation of a farmer, whom, in company with his wife, we found on -horseback, ready to set out on a journey to the next market town for -the purpose of buying stores for his family. There was no tavern or -resting-place within seven miles of us; but, not wishing to intrude -upon their domestic arrangements, we passed the house and doubled our -speed, in order to be in time for dinner at the next village. The -farmer, however, did not suffer us to continue our journey without -having refreshed ourselves at his house; and, persuading us to come -back, he and his wife dismounted, and assisted in preparing and -ordering everything necessary for dinner. We of course protested -against their putting themselves to so much trouble for the sake of -strangers, who, in an hour or so, might have reached a place where they -could have procured a dinner for money. “Oh, I assure you, gentlemen,” -replied our entertainer, “I never suffer myself or my wife to be -_troubled_ either by strangers or friends; we merely discharge our -duty, without either inconvenience to ourselves, or putting others -under any sort of obligation. Lucy!” said he to a buxom girl that was -playing with one of the prettiest children I ever beheld, “you will see -that the gentlemen want nothing. Eliza! we must be off, or we shall -not get thither till dark. Good morning, gentlemen!”--“Good-b’ye, -gentlemen!” added his wife; both mounting their horses, and leaving us -to enjoy ourselves and our dinner as best we might. - -What a picture of sincerity, honesty, confidence, frankness, and -unostentatious hospitality is this, compared to the formal invitations -to dinner, or a party, of one of the nabobs in the Atlantic cities! -Take, for instance, the case of a rich man in New York. He prepares -a week beforehand, and racks his brains as to what people he shall -invite that will do credit to his house, and what persons he may safely -exclude without injury to himself, and without offending them past -reparation. He has one dinner-party for one set of acquaintance, and -another for another. At the one he will act as host, at the other as -patron; the expense being in both cases proportionate to the rank of -his guests. Who under these circumstances would not rather prefer the -hospitality of the honest Kentuckian, whose Western friends averred -that he was truly kind, “for, when he had company, he simply went to -the side-board, poured out his glass, and then turned his back upon -them, not wishing to see how _they filled_?” - -The fashionable people of the Atlantic cities, who give dinner and -evening parties either for the purpose of maintaining or acquiring a -high rank in society, have themselves little or no disposition for -company. With them society does not offer an agreeable and necessary -respite from toil; but is merely a means of acquiring influence, -&c. For this purpose it is not necessary to treat all persons with -equal sincerity and politeness. “_La politesse nous tient lieu du -cœur_,” say the French; but the fashionable people of the United -States manage to get on without either. There is nothing in the -composition of a fashionable American to compensate for the loss of -natural affections,--nothing in his manner to soften the egotism which -manifests itself in every motion, every gesture, every word which drops -from his lips. And the worst of it is, that he imagines all this to be -a successful imitation of English manners! He forgets entirely that, in -imitating the manners of the higher classes in England, he is very much -in the position of a sailor on horseback; showing by his whole carriage -that he is out of his element, and, though straining every nerve to -maintain his place, ready to tumble off at the first motion for which -he is not previously prepared. - -As regards the exclusiveness of the higher classes, and especially -of the women, the instance before me was certainly one calculated to -excite my indignation, had I not known fashionable young ladies that -refused to walk in the streets of Philadelphia until the dinner-hour of -“the common people,” when they would be sure of having the side-walk to -themselves. - -But what is all this, compared to the artificial distinctions -introduced into their churches? It has always been the pride of the -Catholic church in Europe to offer a place of worship to every man, -without distinction of rank, title, or wealth. The utmost a man pays -for a chair in any of the churches of France or Italy is one _sou_; -the fashionable American Catholics, however, imitate the practice of -those gentlemanly followers of Christ who choose to worship God in good -company. Thus the respectable Catholics of New York, “who do not wish -to be annoyed by the presence of an Irish mob,” being for the most -part composed of their own servants, have built a church for their own -specific use,--a snug little concern, just large enough for a _genteel_ -audience to hear the Lord _en famille_. - -In order to exclude effectually everything that might be disagreeable, -no one is allowed to stand in the aisles; so that those poor devils -who cannot afford to pay for a pew must be content to seek the Lord -elsewhere _among their equals_. On the whole, the principles which -govern the aristocracy of the Northern States of America are the very -counterpart of the sound maxims of Shylock with regard to the vulgar -herd of Christians. “I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, -walk with you,” (here might be added, _electioneer_ with you,) “and so -following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, or pray with -you.” - -“Come!” said my friend, “what are you reflecting about? Do not look -any longer on this tender victim of fashionable society. She is now -but serving her apprenticeship; but will soon rise to the rank of ‘an -ancient’ in the clique, and then treat every new-comer in precisely -the same manner she is treated now. Let me rather make you acquainted -with some of the lions that grace Mrs. ***’s party. Do you know that -gentleman with grey hair standing in the corner? It is Mr. ***, -originally of German extraction, who has changed his name in order to -warrant the supposition of his being descended from a Norman family. -He is a great public speaker,--that is, he speaks on all occasions; -and has assured his party, who of course look upon democracy as the -greatest curse of the country, that his father was a respectable man -long before Tamany Hall[8] was built. This declaration, no doubt, -secures to him the _entrée_ of the first society; and, if he do not -fail in business, the consideration of one of the oldest aristocrats of -the city. - -“A little further from him, on the right,” continued he, “you will -notice a gentleman with a white cravat. He has always a little -_clientelle_ around him, for he is a _millionnaire_, descended from a -_millionnaire_! I know very little of him or his father, except that -the latter has made his money by successful speculations and great -saving,--two poetical circumstances worthy of being immortalized by -Washington Irving. Behind him is stationed Mr. ***, a gentleman of -great business tact, who writes his letters on the backs of those which -he receives; and is always particular in advising his friends with whom -he has dealings to get his name on a piece of paper. He is a silent -partner in half-a-dozen different concerns, and has the reputation of -obstinately refusing in all cases to receive less than a hundred cents -on a dollar. - -“In the other corner of the room you will observe two gentlemen engaged -in conversation with a lady, who is evidently tired of their attention. -They are, as you might guess from this circumstance, nothing but -ordinary professional men, whose daily earnings are just sufficient -to keep them above water. They are merely invited from charity, being -distant relations of the lady of the house, who, by showing them up, -expects to improve their chance of success in business. One is a lawyer -with a small practice; and the other a physician, who, as he cannot -afford to keep a horse and gig, has as yet but little to do, but -will undoubtedly succeed in obtaining a large practice if he should -be successful in his attentions to Miss ***, a nice young girl of -thirty-two, with plenty of money to set up a carriage.” - -“But,” said I, more than dissatisfied with my friend’s satirical -remarks, “how do you explain the generosity which some of the -wealthiest citizens in this country manifest towards the poor, and -especially to all charitable institutions?” - -“There is,” replied he, “a sort of _public_ generosity among the rich -men in our Atlantic cities which delights in making donations to -public institutions of all kinds; but woe to those who have private -transactions with them! - -“The public in America is always courted, even by the mushroom -aristocracy of New York. Stephen Gerard, who by the moneyed men of -the United States was considered as the quintessence of science and -virtue, so that a salutation ‘Go and do as Stephen Gerard!’ would at -any time have been equivalent to the ‘_Vaya Usted con Dios!_’ of the -Spaniards,--Stephen Gerard himself, I say, was obliged to give away -money to the poor, even during his lifetime! - -“Besides, there is a good deal of satisfaction in giving away money -to the public, in a public way, in a country in which the public is -sovereign. It is a way of ingratiating one’s-self with one’s master, -and of acquiring notoriety and credit for wealth, and thereby an -indisputable claim to the highest respectability. When, in one of our -Atlantic cities, it is once known that a man is rich, that ‘he is very -rich,’ that he is ‘amazingly rich,’ that he is ‘one of the richest men -in the country,’ that he is ‘worth a million of dollars,’ that he is -‘as rich as Stephen Gerard, or John Jacob ***,’ the whole vocabulary of -praise is exhausted; and the individual in question is as effectually -canonized as the best Catholic saint. - -“I often alluded to this species of money-worship, when alone with -my Northern friends; but they seemed to be surprised with the -simplicity of my remarks. They saw nothing in it that was not perfectly -commendable by common sense. ‘We imitate the English in that respect, -as in every other,’ was their excuse; ‘and, as is usual with us, -_improve_ upon them. We do not think John Bull understands the value of -money as well as ourselves; at least, he does not turn it to so good -an account. All that can be said against us is, that we do not value -_other things_ as highly as we ought to do;’ and with this species of -logic they seemed to be satisfied. But let us continue our tour. - -“Do you observe that gentleman in tights, with large black whiskers? He -is one of the most fashionable and aristocratic gentlemen in the city. -I believe he served his apprenticeship in a baker’s shop, then went -into an auction-room, then became a partner in the firm, and lastly -took a house in Broadway, set up a carriage, and declared himself a -gentleman. Nine-tenths of all the people that are called ‘fashionable’ -in New York have had a similar beginning; and yet, if you listen to -their conversation, you would swear they are descended in a direct line -from William the Conqueror. - -“No people on earth are more proud of their ancestors than those -fashionable Americans who can prove themselves descended from -respectable fathers and grandfathers. Take, for instance, the case of -one of my young friends, who was sent to Europe by his family for the -sole purpose of discovering his ancestors; or that of an acquaintance -of mine in Boston, who has found a signet among the rubbish of his -household, and now swears that it belonged to his great-grandfather, -there being no other person to claim it; or that of Mr. ***, seated -yonder by the side of that elderly lady, who has bought a lot of Dutch -portraits in Europe,--all knights in armour,--in order to form a whole -gallery of ancestors; or that of Mr. ***, who has discovered some faint -analogy between _his_ name and that of a certain animal, which he now -uses as a coat of arms; and a hundred other examples I could quote.” - -“The same ridiculous folly,” interrupted I, “you will find in England, -and especially in Scotland, among the gentlefolks.” - -“But then,” interrupted my friend, “the English do not pretend to -be _republicans_; they never formally banished nobility and royalty -from their country in order to rake them up again from the rubbish of -another world; and the particular genius of their institutions is -not opposed to any real distinction in the way of family. Our people, -on the contrary, are obliged publicly to repudiate what they are most -anxiously striving to assert in private; and thus to add hypocrisy to -pretensions for which there is not the least apology in the history of -their country. But I must direct your attention to that portly-looking -gentleman in blue pantaloons, who, in my opinion, is by far the most -remarkable personage of the whole company. He wears boots; and his -hat and gloves, neither of which can be said to be entirely new, are -carefully deposited in the entry. Thus unencumbered, he will play one -of the best knives and forks at supper; although the lady of the house -herself will take his arm, and put him to his utmost good breeding. She -completely monopolises his conversation, and distinguishes him from the -crowd by the most studied politeness.” - -“But what can be the cause of her attention?” demanded I; “is he so -very rich?” - -“Not exactly,” replied he; “he is _barely respectable_.” - -“What do you mean by that?” - -“I mean, in the language of New York, he is a man of moderate property.” - -“Then I do not see the object of her civility to him.” - -“She has indeed a different object from what you or any other -stranger would suspect. The gentleman is a country representative of -considerable talent; of whom the lady, who, like most of the nice -women in this city, is in the opposition, wishes to make a convert. A -good many unsuspecting ‘members of the assembly’ are spoiled by our -fashionable women; for the spirit of gallantry is stronger in our -yeomanry than among our aristocratic gentlemen of the town. Our country -representatives can argue for years, and argue well, against the -attempted usurpations of certain coteries of gentlemen; but they cannot -take up the cudgel against the ladies. It is in the best society where -our members learn to listen to the grossest abuse of the institutions -of their country without glowing with indignation or resentment; it is -there where they study patience in hearing the people’s favourites -traduced as ‘scoundrels,’ ‘villains,’ ‘pickpockets,’ ‘idiots,’ ‘fools,’ -&c.; and it is in company of fashionable ladies that they learn to -consider patriotism as unbecoming a gentleman,--as a vice which ought -never to infect but the lowest orders of society. - -“And it is principally because their patriotism cannot be translated -into an attachment to some ‘great and glorious personage’ that these -poor devils of representatives, who would have remained honest if they -had not been admitted into good society, become, by degrees, ashamed -of everything which is their own, from their heads down to the very -soles of their feet. At first they are made aware that they are not -so refined as some of the New York people, especially those who have -been in Europe; and that, in order to get rid of some of their boorish -manners, they must needs try to get into good society. Some neutral -friend procures them an introduction, and the women do the rest. - -“One of the principal things they learn in good society is, to -consider politics as wholly uninteresting except to tavern-keepers on -election days; as a subject unworthy of the pursuit of a gentleman, and -a thing banished from people of fashion and good taste. When they speak -of it, or allude to it, accidentally in conversation, the good-natured -condescending smiles of the company convince them, without argument, -that they have been guilty of some impropriety. When they grow warm at -the mention of their country, the calmness of all around them teaches -them the absurdity of betraying emotion on so ordinary an occasion; -and, if they should ever by chance make use of the words ‘liberty,’ -‘right,’ ‘independence,’ or forget themselves so far as to introduce -‘the people,’ they are left alone to enjoy these things by themselves. - -“When, by this course of instruction, they have amended their manners -so far as no longer to be guilty of similar _gaucheries_, they are made -to improve their language, to smooth down the roughness of terms by -the substitution of more agreeable and palatable synonyms, and to set -a right value on certain expressions altogether unintelligible to the -great mass of the people. - -“Thus the word ‘patriotism,’ as I told you before, is entirely -proscribed by the higher classes; they designate that virtue by -‘political zeal,’ and the patriot himself by ‘a successful politician.’ -‘A popular candidate for office’ is equivalent to ‘a vagabond who has -no business of his own;’ ‘popularity’ means ‘the approbation of the -mob;’ and ‘popular distinction,’ ‘notoriety in vulgar pursuits.’ ‘A -public man’ is ‘an individual lost to society and to all its virtues;’ -the term ‘liberty’ is synonymous with ‘licence of the mob;’ and -‘universal suffrage’ stands for ‘universal blackguardism.’ - -“It is to be observed, however, that all these significations apply -only to the members of the _democratic_ party; there never having been -a single man of fortune, in any of the Northern States, whose patriotic -intentions have once been made the subject of doubt or inquiry: for it -is easily understood why _a man of property_ should be attached to his -country; but the poor man has _no right_ to be so, and is therefore to -be justly suspected whenever he takes an interest in politics. - -“Under these circumstances, you cannot wonder at our aspiring -people--and where is the man in this country that is _not_ -so?--deprecating the idea of being called ‘democrats,’ and the -influence which ‘good breeding and fashionable society’ exercise on our -professional politicians. The gentleman I pointed out to you is just -serving his apprenticeship in the fashionable _salons_ of New York; -and there are already heavy bets making on his being brought over to -the opposition in less than a year. I have heard it said that he was -a ‘rank’ democrat when he first came to New York, but that the ladies -have already tamed him so far as to make him less _positive_ in his -opinions; and they hope, by the time they will teach him to wear white -gloves and ‘behave himself like a gentleman,’ to make him altogether -‘harmless.’ - -“When once come to that, it takes but very little to make him -_ashamed_ of serving the ‘riff-raff,’ and declare in favour of those -dignified opinions which are handed down to the Americans by the ablest -writers of Great Britain, and which the commercial aristocracy of the -United States apply to themselves in precisely the same manner as the -nobility of England. He is then likely to perceive ‘the _beauty_ of -those British institutions’ which ensure the complete submission of the -lower classes to the _superior_ orders,--‘which assign to every man his -proper place,’--which ‘teach the servants to be respectful to their -masters,’ &c. The admiration of England and of the British government -naturally begets a wish to establish, in America, a government after -the British model; for, in the same manner as the honest Boston baker -wished his native town to be raised to the rank of a city, in order -that at some future day it might rival ‘the ancient and famous city -of London,’ do our stockholders and stock-jobbers expect to become -‘ancient and far-famed families’ in ‘the great American empire,’ and to -outshine the brightest stars in the galaxy of the British nobility.” - -“And yet,” observed I, “there are very few aristocratic Americans who -think America capable of national elevation. ‘We have gained nothing -by our independence of Great Britain,’ said a fashionable and learned -Bostonian, when the subject was started in the way of a national boast; -“on the contrary, we have lost in personal consideration.” - -“And I have not the least doubt he spoke the truth, as far as -_related to himself_,” replied my friend. “Nothing can better prove -the corrupting influence of our fashions,” he continued, “than the -fact that most of the celebrated leaders of the present opposition -have commenced their career by advocating democracy, and finished by -betraying it. This is the price they have to pay for admission into -good society, from which democrats are naturally excluded.” - -Here my friend was interrupted by the approach of the gentleman of the -house, who, in the most polite manner possible, inquired whether we -were entertained with the party. - -“How could that be otherwise?” replied my friend; “I have never before -seen such a collection of pretty girls; I wish I could see them all -dance.” - -“The room is not large enough for that,” said our entertainer, little -suspecting the meaning of my friend; “but next year I shall take -another house, and then there will be no more complaints of that sort.” - -“With a little forbearance, a good many of those beautiful sylphs could -dance in _this_ room.” - -“Quite a gallant speech that!” exclaimed the old gentleman: “one can -see that you come from the South.” - -“There is nothing gives me more pleasure than to see young ladies amuse -themselves.” - -“Just so, sir,--just so! only I cannot get reconciled to the _walse_.” - -“And I,” observed my friend, “think the _waltz_ the finest dance in the -world.” - -“Why, it may do tol--er--ably well for _some_ folks; but I have strong -doubts of its being an appropriate dance in this country.” - -“And why that?” - -“I shall tell you that in a moment,” said the old gentleman. - -“You see, sir, that our young ladies are very fond of dancing; and -that, when once commencing, they are sure to go on the whole evening. -Well, sir, they take a partner,--a young fellow who is quite as fond -of dancing as they are,--and then they dance, or _waltz_, as you call -it, round and round, until they both get as warm as possible; and then, -sir----” - -“And then, sir----” - -“Why, then they go into a cold room, or into the open air, and catch -cold; that’s all. ’Tis but a week ago that my daughter recovered from -a severe cough. These, sir, are the fatal consequences of that dance -amongst us; and that’s the reason I don’t like it. It is not adapted -to our climate. Am I not right, sir?” - -“Perfectly,” replied my friend. - -“Health before everything; that’s my motto. But there is no use in -preaching to those girls; they _will_ have their own way in everything.” - -“But you seem to forget that waltzing is becoming more and more the -fashion in England.” - -“Is that really the case?” demanded the old gentleman; “then it cannot -be so bad after all,--the English have pretty good notions on all such -subjects,--if our girls would only take care of their health.” - -Here the conversation was interrupted by a sudden rush of the company, -occasioned by the announcement of supper. At this important summons, -ladies and gentlemen, the wife of our entertainer with the pantalooned -country representative at their head, were pairing off in great haste, -to shape their course down to a large room on the ground-floor, which -during the first part of the evening had been kept carefully closed, -but was now thrown open for the more substantial amusement of the -party. This, however, is too important a subject to be treated as a -mere episode: it deserves a separate chapter. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[8] The great rendezvous and head-quarters of the democrats of the city -of New York. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - A German Dissertation on Eating.--Application of Eating to Scientific, - Moral, and Political Purposes.--Democrats in America not in the - Habit of entertaining People.--Consequences of this Mistake.--The - Supper.--Dialogue between a Country Representative and a Fashionable - Lady.--Mode of winning Country Members.--Hatred of the Higher Classes - of everything belonging to Democracy.--Attachment of the Old Families - to England.--Hatred of the “Vulgar English.”--The French, and even the - English, not sufficiently aristocratic for the Americans.--Generosity - of the Americans towards England.--A Fashionable Young Lady.--An - American Exquisite.--Middle-aged Gentlemen and Ladies.--Americans not - understanding how to amuse themselves, because they do not know how to - laugh.--Negroes the happiest People in the United States.--Breaking-up - of the Party.--Gallantry of the Gentlemen. - - _Silence._--“Ah, sirrah! quoth-a, we shall - Do nothing but eat and make good cheer, - And praise Heaven for the merry year.” - - _Second Part of King Henry IV._ Act V. Scene 3. - - -Germans are by English writers accused of heaviness of style and -laborious dulness; produced partly by their predilection for -metaphysics, and partly by their inclination towards mysticism. -_Martinus Scriblerus_ was born at Munster; and, although a German[9] -has since actually discovered the _materia subtilis_ ridiculed by Pope, -the prejudices of the practical philosophers of England, and in later -days of America, remain still as strong against them as ever. Every -one, I believe, is willing to concede to them the greatest quantity -of abstract learning; very few will give them credit for practical -knowledge, and a nice appreciation of the good things of this life. -I remember being once told by an Englishman that he did not think it -possible for a German to tell the difference between mutton and lamb, -inasmuch as both were served up in little bits at the best private -tables in Germany. Such a remark offered to a Frenchman would have made -his blood boil with rage, and probably have ended in a duel; but _I_ -resolved upon taking a German vengeance, and proposed writing a small -dissertation on the origin, progress, and various applications of -eating to scientific, sociable, and political purposes. - -Eating, according to the oldest and best records, was invented in -Paradise,--where we have strong reasons to suppose it constituted -the principal amusement of the first man. From this we may safely -infer that it was necessary to _primitive_ happiness; although, from -a singular perversity of taste, dinners then consisted merely of -desserts,--that is, of a choice variety of raw fruit: the chemical -process of cooking, the scientific arrangement by which thinking man -assimilates and subjects the universe to his own body, was reserved for -subsequent periods. The first sin was an _appetite_ for knowledge,--the -latter being communicated by the simple process of eating; which fact -is still commemorated, in the shape of regular anniversary dinners, by -most of the learned societies in England and on the Continent. - -But eating was not long confined to learning; it extended itself -gradually to all other human pursuits, and, in course of time, -associated itself with politics, morals, and even religion. The -Christian Protestant religion is the only one which does not -prescribe a particular diet; and I have heard it asserted in -Frankfort-on-the-Maine, (a place where Jews are better known than -anywhere else,) that an Israelite may be considered as converted from -the moment he has tasted roast pork. With regard to morality, every -one knows the influence of a man’s diet on his passions, and how often -mildness and amiability of disposition are chiefly the result of a -particular regimen. - -With regard to the fine arts, it has been observed by a celebrated -French professor of gastronomy, and with great justice too, that we -borrow the whole nomenclature from the taste,--that is, from the -palate. What would be tragedy or comedy without the words “bitter,” -“sour,” “sweet,” “mild,” &c.?--where would be your “sweet-hearts, -your sweet faces, sweet voices, and sweet dispositions?” And again, -what would become of your “sour dispositions,” your “bitter -disappointments,” and “galling vexations?” The strongest and most -lasting impressions are produced by the palate,--that is, by eating; -and hence poets and common people refer to them more frequently than -to the sensations conveyed by the other senses. “The pleasures of -the palate,” says the French philosopher, “are the most lasting, -and compensate us in our old age for the loss of nearly every other -enjoyment.” - -But the most important influence of eating is exhibited in politics. -Here we observe, in the first place, the fact that a substantial -diet in a people is, with scarcely one exception inseparable from a -certain degree of rational freedom. It is for this reason principally -that the nations of the North are with great difficulty reduced to -slavery; while the South, more abstemious in eating, has always been -more easily conquered and subdued. This rule, however, I can assure -my readers, does not apply to the Southern States of America, whose -gallant inhabitants are as much used to turtle as any alderman of the -city of London, and as loyal as any British subject whenever they -are called upon to fire a “royal salute,” or, in other words, “empty -twenty-seven bumpers of madeira,” in honour of any of their celebrated -public characters. As a general rule, however, it may be remarked that -beef and mutton countries are the most difficult to be governed, or -rather that the people of those countries are more capable of governing -_themselves_ than any other; and that a nation becomes fit for a -democratic or _self_-government in exactly the same proportion as its -diet consists principally of meat. - -With the knowledge of these facts, I would direct the attention of -travellers in the United States to the _stereotype_ bills of fare -they will find in nearly all the principal public houses; which, in -my opinion, will best enable them to form a correct estimate of the -republican sentiments of the Americans. As far as my experience goes, -they all run thus:-- - -“Roast beef, roast mutton, roast lamb, roast veal, roast pork, roast -pig, roast turkey, roast goose, roast chickens, roast pigeons, roast -ducks,” &c. To which, merely by way of appendix, are added the -comparatively insignificant items of “pudding, pastry, and dessert.” - -For these, however, nobody cares; but the roasts generally go off well, -constituting both the pith and luxury of an American table. A few -aristocratic innovations on this rule have, indeed, been attempted by -the keepers of some of the crack boarding-houses and hotels; but they -were soon obliged to come back to the old standard of beef and mutton. -Even at private parties the roasts form the principal ornament of the -table; though, of late, some fashionable people, preceded by the *** -minister in Washington, have attempted, though in vain, to popularize -the taste for “_pâtés au foie gras_” and “_aux truffes_.” - -The Americans eat _cold_ roast meat four times a day, viz. at -breakfast, lunch, tea, and supper; and _hot_ roast beef or mutton -twice, at breakfast and dinner:--hence, in spite of all the manœuvres -of the Whig and Bank party in the United States to overthrow the -democratic principles established by Jefferson, Jackson, and Van Buren, -the latter have always prevailed, in the same manner as the quantity -of beef consumed exceeded that of all other roast and boiled meats -taken together. This correspondence between a man’s food and political -principles was beautifully illustrated by the late Dr. Johnson, when, -in his reply to the American ditty,-- - -“Who rules o’er freemen must himself be free,” he sensibly remarked,-- - -“Who drives fat oxen must himself be fat.” That _impromptu_ alone was -worth three hundred a-year. - -The use of _public dinners_ in a free country I need not dwell -upon; every one knows that they are the most powerful _stimulus_ to -patriotism and virtue. It is only after dinner that gentlemen can be -supposed to listen patiently to a long political argument, intended to -prove their antagonists to be arrant knaves, and their partisans men of -sound public principles. Calumny and eulogy are the necessary dessert -of a public meal,--a sort of _confiture_ taken after the appetite for -solid food has been appeased in a more satisfactory manner. - -Dinners and suppers are also made use of for the purposes of -_diplomacy_; or, as is the case in the United States and in England, -for making political proselytes. Napoleon, used to conquest, knew yet -the value of good dinners. Instead of repeating the rules and maxims -laid down by Machiavelli for a young prince,--instead of echoing the -vile saying of Richelieu, “_Dissimuler, c’est regner_,”--he gave to his -parting ministers no other injunctions than “_Tenez bonne table, et -soignez les femmes_.” - -A whole world lies in this injunction! “_Tenez bonne table_” precedes -the command “_Soignez les femmes_;” a proof that he considered the -latter, if not impossible, at least useless, without the former. - -Talleyrand added to his political sagacity the most perfect -appreciation of good eating; both qualities being absolutely -indispensable to an ambassador. The compliment he paid to the -English, “that he never knew what French cooking was until he came -to England,” may be considered at once as a proof of his diplomatic -wisdom and taste. Count A----y, who keeps the diplomatic crack house in -Paris, maintains his influence with all parties by the most tasteful -entertainments; and it is generally believed that Count P----o di -B----o’s cook has as much contributed to the widespread reputation of -his master, as the consummate talents with which the latter has managed -the interests of his sovereign. Lord P----, as we are assured by a most -able writer in one of the best periodicals of the present day, has a -winning way of conciliating Tory ladies with Whig dinners: and if Lord -M----ne is less successful in this most important art of a minister, it -is, I am quite sure, because he prefers dining out to entertaining his -friends at home; a practice for which no public man was ever pardoned -in any country. - -In a similar manner is eating made a means of making political converts -in the United States; but with the exception of two or three wealthy -families in Philadelphia, and half-a-dozen of the same kind in New York -and Baltimore, the _democrats_ are not in the habit of entertaining -people; (in England, according to the most respectable testimony, the -Whig lords entertain more than the Tories;) and it is on this account, -principally, that their case seems to be hopeless--in good society. -In the Western States there is a great deal of “treating” among the -“republicans;” but the honour of giving regular dinner-parties and hot -suppers belongs almost exclusively to “the aristocracy.” - -These dinners and suppers are given to public men as a sort of -“_douceur_” for their honourable conduct; but, once accused of -democracy, its “no song, no supper.” The higher classes of Americans -apply the same method by which beasts are tamed and tutored, to the -representatives of the people; they feed them when they behave well, -and kick at them when they show themselves self-willed and disobedient. -In a few instances some of the government officers in Boston and -Philadelphia gave parties, at which there was a profusion of iced -champaign and chicken-salad; and the thing went off well enough: -the Whigs, _alias_ Tories, _alias_ National Republicans, _alias_ -Federalists, came, as they always do when they are invited to a supper, -drank the wine, emptied the dishes, and went off saying, “It’s no use -for these people to imitate _us_; you cannot make a gentleman out of a -democrat.” - -If it were not for the excellent dinners given by the President, and -the delightful circles at Mr. Secretary W***’s, the democratic senators -and members of Congress would never quit their messes, or would be -obliged to content themselves with a steak or a chop at one of the -two mulatto _restaurants_ in the Capitol. General Jackson, who was -great in everything, had also an excellent French cook; his dinners, -as Miss Martineau can testify, were in the best style, and his wines -of the most superior quality. “Oh, he is a delightful old gentleman!” -exclaimed a truly aristocratic lady of Baltimore,--“how amiable in his -private intercourse!--no one can be with him without loving him! I wish -he _were_ ambitious, and met with a better fate than Cæsar!” - -The worst objection to democracy is, that, except taverns and -coffee-houses, both of which are in exceeding bad repute in the United -States, its followers have no regular _rendezvous_, no _réunions_, no -_petits comités_ amongst themselves, where its zealots might mutually -inspire one another with patriotic sentiments, after the example of -the Whigs, who, from time to time, refresh their dying love of liberty -with the best West India madeira, furnished by their own cellars. And -yet man is a gregarious animal, and, as we all know, woman still more -so; both like company, or, as the Americans express it, “love company,” -“admire company,” “dote upon company.” “They cannot always stick at -home;” the young ladies want to dance and to get married,--the young -gentlemen want to have an opportunity of addressing an heiress, and of -appearing to advantage in society. And of what use, after all, _are_ -their good manners if they cannot show them? All these things operate -against democracy, and tend, in a considerable degree, to swell the -ranks of the opposition. The people, assuredly, are in possession of -all political power; but a very small number of individuals take it -upon themselves to fix the conventional standard. - -“With whom are you going to dine to-day?” said a gentleman from -Philadelphia to one of his friends in Washington. - -“With Mr. W***,” was the answer. - -“Whom will you meet there?” - -“Only General F----s, Mr. C***, and Mr. B***.” - -“None of the _corps diplomatique_?” - -“None that I know of.” - -“No senator?” - -“Only Mr. B*** and Dr. L***.” - -“No Whig senator?” - -“I believe not.” - -“Why, then, do you go? You will neither dine well, nor will you be -amused; and, as for the wine, I never knew a democrat to be a good -judge of that article.” - -This was the death-blow to the young man’s democracy. He was a -Virginian, and, as such, knew that it was impossible to be a gentleman -without being a good judge of wine and horse-flesh. He at first -blushed, but soon recovered from his embarrassment by sending “a -regret” to his democratic acquaintance. The day following he dined -_en petit comité_ with Mr. G***, where the ridicule thrown on popular -institutions undermined his principles still further; and in the -evening the ladies converted him fully to the principles of the -opposition. - -With the knowledge of all these facts, I could not but tremble for the -fate of my pantalooned country representative, who, standing by the -side of one of the most enchanting Whig ladies of New York, was now -tucking up his cuffs in order to prepare himself for a valiant attack -on a goose. This substantial bird, so unjustly ridiculed by the most -odious comparisons with the more aristocratic but infinitely less -useful swan, is in America--where swans are fabulous animals--the -king of bipeds; capons being, either from natural charity to animals, -or from want of the higher refinements, seldom to be met with at an -American table. Admiral C----n, it is true, came to the United States -to teach the Americans the science of preparing fowl in that manner; -but, as he was himself but indifferently skilled in it, (his victims -usually crowed the third day after the operation,) the thing was given -up, as a practice too cruel to be indulged in “by an enlightened, -intellectual, and moral community,” and the admiral obliged to -return to England without the slightest hope of securing to himself -that enduring fame which future generations award to the lights and -benefactors of their race. - -The attack now began simultaneously on all sides, the square-built -tribune still keeping his position near the lady of the house, and -looking upon her more and more tenderly as he was cutting away at -the goose. There was a mixture of gratitude and benevolence in his -smile which seemed to tell her that she had not been mistaken; that -there was still some hope of winning him,--some slight chance of -teaching him refinement and good taste. Accordingly, when he had done -eating,--that is, when he could eat no more,--and had rinsed his mouth, -in the only way he ever went through that process, by swallowing, in -rapid succession, something like half-a-dozen glasses of madeira,--the -lady took his arm, whispering, in one of her softest accents, that -she disliked a crowd, and that they had better have some chat in the -parlour.” - -“With all my heart,” said the tribune, wiping his mouth with a -checkered pocket-handkerchief; “I really do not see what business -people have here after they have supped.” - -“At my house, sir,” replied the lady, every one is at liberty to do as -he pleases.” - -“Quite a _clever_ party, ma’am,” rejoined he, turning down the cuffs of -his coat. - -“I am glad you amuse yourself.” - -“Oh that I do! I always amuse myself at a party.” - -Here the lady made a confused sign of acknowledgment. - -“But when we give a party in _our_ place,” continued the unabashed man -of the people, “we don’t give such suppers: I have heard the gentleman -next to me say that the table, just as it was, must have cost three -hundred dollars.” - -“Why,” stammered the lady, “it’s impossible for me to say.” - -“I dare say it cost a great deal more,” continued the tribune; “I -should not like to father the bill.” - -“How old is your eldest daughter, sir?” demanded the lady, by way of -changing the conversation. - -“Pretty nearly sixteen; she is quite a woman, ma’am.” - -“Why don’t you bring her to town? I should be happy to make her -acquaintance.” - -“Very much obliged to you for your kindness, ma’am; but it won’t do. -New York is too expensive a place; I should not be able to keep my -daughter in the fashions, and, without that, she would not find much -pleasure in a stay in this city.” - -“Come, come, that’s an old-fashioned notion of yours; you would not -bring up your daughter as a country girl, would you?” - -“Not exactly that; but still I like her to know something about -housekeeping. Your fine city ladies do not seem to trouble themselves -much about that.” - -“Why, they have other things to do,” said the lady, almost impatiently. - -“I know that,” said the imperturbable representative; “and those things -are precisely the ones I do not like my girl to learn.” - -“But how are you off for society in your village, or rather -_town_?--isn’t it a _town_?” - -“Yes, ma’am, it _is_ a town, and quite a flourishing one too. We have -this year built a new school-house and a tavern.” - -“Very fine buildings, I dare say.” - -“Oh no, ma’am! only of wood. We can only afford to build our -school-houses of wood; there is no stone building in our place, _except -the bank_. We are not as rich as the people of New York, and have -not as much credit either; but, if things go on well, we shall build -another school-house in the course of a year or two, and add a new -wing or story to the tavern. We have raised the schoolmaster’s _wages_ -already a dollar a month; and, if the place goes on increasing, we -shall have to look out for an usher.” - -“I am glad you are doing so well.” - -“Thank you, ma’am. We have had more than a hundred new people settling -among us during the last two years; some of them quite respectable. -Mr. Smith, an Englishman, is a very good blacksmith, and understands -breaking colts; a young man of the name of Biddle--no relation to -the great Nic’las Biddle though--is a good tanner; then we had a new -accession of carpenters and day-labourers from Ireland, ‘as many as you -can shake a stick at.’” - -“But, in a growing place, it must be difficult to find agreeable people -to visit.” - -“We don’t think of visiting; we have other things to do.” - -This was the cue for the lady. - -“Oh! you are probably taken up with _politics_,” said the lady; “a’n’t -you?” - -“Why, we are a pretty patriotic set, ma’am; all republicans to the -back-bone.” - -“I am glad to hear that,” replied the lady; “I am myself a republican.” - -“That’s right, ma’am; it’s of no use to be anything else in _this_ -country. I can’t, for my life, see how people _can_ be anything else.” - -“Nor I either,” replied the lady. “I am sure I am as proud of my -country as any one else.” - -“And good reasons you have to be so,” added the tribune; “it’s the -first country in the world for an industrious man, such as I know your -husband to be.” - -“I don’t mean in that way,” observed the lady, somewhat embarrassed; “I -am proud of its republican institutions.” - -“It’s the only free country in the world, you may depend upon it.” - -“Besides _England_. I think our people go too far in their liberty.” - -“I don’t think people _can_ go too far in that; the freer the better, -is my motto.” - -“That’s a very dangerous principle, sir; it leads necessarily to -anarchy.” - -“I have often heard it said, but I never believed it. In our town, for -instance, we are all democrats, and yet I never knew a row there ever -since I was born; while your nice people of New York run riot on the -most trifling occasion.” - -“That’s owing to the great number of foreigners we have among us; -people who have been slaves at home, and on that account have the most -extravagant notion of liberty.”[10] - -“Why, ma’am, our town consists almost wholly of foreigners, and is -as quiet as possible. I think that people who have been oppressed -before, may be as much attached to liberty as those who, from its daily -enjoyment, have grown indifferent towards it.” - -“Why, what singular notions you have, Mr. ***!” exclaimed the lady; “I -hope you are not an advocate of the _rabble_?” - -“Certainly not; I represent the _people_ of my township.” - -“You do not understand me. When I speak of ‘the rabble,’ I mean those -who have no interest whatever in maintaining our institutions,--foreign -paupers and adventurers, and particularly the Irish. I have no -objection to liberty in the abstract. I think all men, with the -exception of our negroes, ought to be free; but I cannot bear the -ridiculous notion of equality which seems to have taken hold of our -people, and which, if it be not counteracted by persons who have -the power to do so,” (here she bestowed a significant look upon the -tribune), “must eventually prove the ruin of our country.” - -“I have heard this before,” replied he, “and I saw it in print too; but -I never believed a word of it. It’s all got up for party purposes; you -may depend upon it, ma’am.” - -“Ah, sir! but I see the truth of it every day of my life.” - -“In what manner, pray?” - -“Good gracious! do you ask me that question? Is it not a matter of -fact? Can there be the least doubt about a thing which is known to all? -Why, it seems you live somewhat out of the world. Do you ever read the -newspapers?” - -“Indeed I do. There are two of them published in our town,--an -administration and an opposition paper.” - -“Which of the two do you subscribe to?” - -“To the administration paper of course. I have always been a democrat.” - -“Oh! you are a dem-o-crat, are you?” - -“My friends call me one at least.” - -“Ah, then you are a democrat for a particular purpose. _That_ I can -understand. A man may have a particular object in calling himself a -democrat, especially in this country; but no well-informed gentleman, -I am sure, would be so mad as to seriously advocate a doctrine which -administers to the passions of the mob, at the expense of the rights -and privileges of the better classes. You would not intrust the -government to paupers, would you?” - -“I believe we have very few paupers in this country, except those who -are unwilling to work,” replied the representative. - -“But if you saw the number of Irish and Germans that are landing here -every day--” - -“The country is large enough to furnish work for all.” - -“But they come sometimes five thousand in a week.” - -“The more the better.” - -“But would you make citizens of them? Would you allow them to vote?” - -“Why not, if they have become naturalized according to law?” - -“Do you think those wretches can ever feel what _we_ do,--_whose -fathers fought and bled for liberty_?” - -“But, by granting the privilege of voting only to those that are -_born_ in the country, you necessarily make citizenship an hereditary -distinction, contrary to the spirit of the American constitution.” - -“But are not hereditary distinctions necessary to a certain degree of -greatness? Look at the English, at their literature, their refinement, -their manners; and compare them with ours!” - -“I know very little about the English, and care less,” replied the -tribune. “I do not think that the institutions of Europe would answer -for this country. We are a young people. Our wants are few, and easily -satisfied; and, as we had in the outset no other interests to protect -but those of the masses, I do not see of what use hereditary privileges -could be to us, except to make the proud prouder, and the rich more -influential, than they already are, much to the dissatisfaction of our -party; and, as for manners and refinement, I think we are doing very -well, considering that our fashionable people have _to import_ them -from Europe. We are essentially an industrious people,” added he; “and -nothing promotes industry so much as to let all men start fair and -even, the foreigner himself not excepted. When there will be no more -land to be disposed of to new settlers, then there will come the time -for making laws for the _preservation_ of property; at present our -chief duty is to facilitate its _acquisition_.” - -“And would you make no allowances for superior education and learning?’” - -“To be sure I would; for such learning as may be applied to some useful -purpose,--‘not for the fiddle-stick accomplishments of your capering -young boys.’” - -“But don’t you think democracy has a natural tendency towards vulgarity -and bad manners?” - -“Certainly not, ma’am! certainly not! I am a great advocate of -politeness,--good manners, I say,--give me good manners by all means!” - -“But how do you reconcile good manners with the everlasting hurrahing -for General Jackson and Martin Van Buren?” - -“That has nothing to do with good manners; that’s what we call -_enthusiasm_.” - -“_We_, sir, call it madness--downright madness! Jackson has ruined the -country.” - -“I see some folks are doing pretty well, for all that.” - -“The country went on prosperously until Jackson took it into his head -to quarrel with the Bank. He has set the poor against the rich.” - -“Why, ma’am, when I went last up the river to Albany, and then down -again to Philadelphia, I found there was quite as much travelling -going on this season as in former years,--just as much wine drunk, -just as much eaten; and, compared to last year, rather a little more -brandy used than might be thought consistent with the reports of -our temperance societies. And, as for setting the poor against the -rich, that is a mere matter of opinion. The question of the Bank is -a party question. We have attacked it on constitutional grounds, and -the opposition have defended it from mercantile policy. We think the -constitution of greater importance than anything which is done under -it.” - -“I see, sir, you are wholly taken up with those doctrines which will -eventually prove the destruction of the country. For my own part, I -want no better proof of the justice or injustice of either principle -_than the comparative respectability of the men who advocate it_.” - -Here the lady drew herself back, and cast a side glance at the tribune, -who, keeping his eyes fixed upon the points of his boots, appeared for -the first time disconcerted by the argument of his fair antagonist. -He attempted a reply, stammered a few words which were inaudible, and -then looked again at his boots. The lady, perceiving his embarrassment, -and the effect of applying the argument _ad hominem_, came to his -aid by assuring him that she had, in her time, known a great many -“smart democrats” who had all gradually become “respectable Whigs.” -“Democracy,” said she, “is a very good beginning,--a sort of political -breakfast, prepared in haste, which sits very well on an empty stomach; -but it is not the thing a man can dine on, it is altogether too common -for that. - -“In a little time,” added she, “you will be convinced of your error, -as many an honest man has been before you. Colonel W***, for instance, -has become quite respectable since he gave up General Jackson. Mr. -O*** H*** came round in due time; and the list of converts is expected -to swell from day to day, in proportion as the people become more and -more civilized. It is only in _that_ way that politicians can expect to -have a standing in society; which democrats seldom have, owing to the -peculiarity of their doctrines.” - -These words, pronounced with a strong emphasis, and with all the -aristocratic dignity she could summon to her aid, were not entirely -lost upon the tribune, who now looked the lady full in the face, -without proffering a single syllable. He probably reflected on his -children, on the impossibility of ever introducing them into society as -long as he professed to be an advocate of the people: his experience -as a public man had probably shown him that he could leave to his -children no worse inheritance than the remembrance of his being “a -regular democrat;” that his sons would be avoided, and his daughters -remain unnoticed, if he did not change his political doctrines. -He knew, or might have known, that the inquisition in Spain never -exercised so direct and deadening an influence on the minds of the -Spaniards, as the intolerance of the higher classes in the United -States on the minds of aspiring politicians; and that, in general, -the despots of Europe are more willing to make allowances for youth, -inexperience, enthusiasm, and political conviction, than the wealthy -aristocrats of the American republic. Yet his honesty and fortitude -triumphed; he remained imperturbable. But he felt the sting of her -satire; and perceiving that he had mistaken his place, and that it -was best for him to associate with his _equals_, he “sneaked off,” -if possible, with a stronger hatred and contempt for the haughty -aristocracy of New York than he had entertained before he had tasted of -its hospitality. - -“Shall I not see you to-morrow at my counting-room?” whispered the -master of the house into his ears when he saw him ready to leave the -room. - -“I don’t know whether I shall have time,” replied the country -representative sulkily. - -“Why, what’s the matter, sir? I shall not let you go until you have -tasted my old sherry; come, Mr. ***, let us have a glass of wine -together.” - -“Thank you, sir! I a’n’t dry. _I have had quite as much as I could wish -for._ Good night!” - -The gentleman looked for an explanation of this extraordinary conduct -to his wife, and in an instant all was clear. - -“How can you trouble yourself with such a bore?” whispered he; -“that’s not the way to win him. If you cannot effect your purpose by -flattery,--censure, I am sure, will not do it. These proud, stupid, -stubborn country fellows require more management than you are aware -of. You must puff them up; impress them with the notion of their own -importance; show them how their talents might be employed in a nobler -cause, &c. If that won’t answer, you must endeavour to alienate their -wives and children by instilling into them a taste for fashionable -society, and, if possible, run them in debt. When their habits have -become extravagant, when they are once in debt, then we talk to them -differently,--one _accommodation_ requires another.” - -“That man,” observed my friend, “understands his business well; but -his wife is a mere tyro in the art of converting people to her own -persuasion. That representative may yet be won. I have seen better men -corrupted, and with less means than will be employed against him; but, -should he hold out, nothing will equal the abuse which will be heaped -upon him. - -“It is indeed strange,” continued he, “to see how these two parties -hate one another; how there is not the least communion or good -fellowship amongst them; how they avoid each other on all occasions; -and what a complete system of proscription is practised by the higher -classes with regard to the unfortunate democrats! Prince Metternich -cannot hold the Radicals in greater abhorrence than they are held by -the wealthy merchants, lawyers, and bankers in the United States. And, -as regards our Whig politicians, they might go to Europe to learn -_moderation_ and _tolerance_ at the courts of absolute sovereigns. - -“And is it not strange, that, in a country in which the _passion_ of -love is probably less felt than anywhere else, _hatred_ should form so -great an ingredient in the national composition? And what hatred too! -the most constant,--the most steady,--the most unceasing that has ever -been known to separate individuals or nations! - -“‘Hatred,’ says Goethe, ‘like love, dies when it ceases to increase;’ -but he had no idea of the cool, calm, collected, slow hatred of certain -classes of Americans. They are not like the French, who, when offended, -cannot rest until they are revenged; not like the Germans, who are not -easily offended; but being ‘wrought, perplexed in the extreme,’ they -can wait for years until a _convenient_ opportunity offers itself for -paying off an insult or destroying an enemy. - -“I remember, a short time ago, when a public man in Philadelphia had -acted a double part towards me, to have called upon an acquaintance and -expressed my indignation at what I thought ungentlemanly and villanous -conduct. ‘What is the use of your saying so now?’ said he with great -calmness; ‘why don’t you keep cool, and wait for an opportunity of -paying him off in his own coin with interest?’ - -“Nor is it always possible to tell when they _are_ offended. They have -too much self-respect to show that they are wrought, but calmly wait -for the proper time of seizing upon their victim. The hatred of most -men dies when the object of their dislike is removed,--when they are -revenged,--when their victim is passed to another world. Not so with -the educated Americans. They hate even the _memory_ of those that have -thwarted their designs. Robespierre is not more detested in France, -than Jefferson and Jackson are among the higher classes of Americans. -I have seen fashionable women in Boston and Philadelphia almost thrown -into convulsions at the very mention of their names. And what appears -most strange is, that this hatred is hereditary; for it is a fact, -no less interesting than instructive, that the higher classes in the -United States have no political conviction at all. Their professions -that way are the result of mere bias, produced by the opinions and -sentiments of their early friends and associates. Democracy is in bad -odour among the fashionable circles, which is quite sufficient for -every coxcomb to despise it, and to affect an abhorrence of its ‘vulgar -and profligate’ champions. There exists, in America, the same feeling -with regard to republicanism which characterized the French shortly -after the publication of the works of Voltaire and Rousseau with regard -to religion: every one wants to escape from the lash of satire, and -therefore shows in words and actions that he is one of those to whom it -does not apply. - -“It is quite common for educated and travelled Americans to _apologize_ -to Englishmen for the extraordinary degree of freedom enjoyed by the -lower orders. Their usual excuse is, ‘that the constitution of the -United States was the work of momentary enthusiasm, which, when the -people shall have cooled down, must necessarily undergo such wholesome -alterations and modifications as reason and experience shall dictate.’ -In the mean while they must go on as well as they can, until the -influence of wealth and the gradual return to the sound doctrines of -English statesmanship, or, perhaps, also ‘the evils incidental to a -popular government,’ shall have prepared the people for a different -administration of their affairs, more suitable to the tranquil -enjoyment of life. If it were not for the hue and cry raised by -Jefferson and Jackson, the thing might have been done long ago; but, -unfortunately for the peace and prosperity of the country, there will -always be vagabonds enough--people who have everything to gain, and -nothing to lose,--ready to follow such leaders!” - -“As a proof of the attachment of certain old families to England,” said -I to my friend, “and the ludicrous notions of their own importance, I -must repeat to you the speech of a gentleman from the Eastern States, -with whom I had the honour of dining three or four years ago. Dinner -went off prosperously; and, the company being small, the bottle came -round faster than some of us could wish, until, as a finish, one of the -gentlemen present proposed that each of us should give a toast. When it -came to my turn, I, as a loyal German, could not but propose the health -of the Archduke Charles of Austria. ‘Bravo!’ shouted the master of the -house, ‘a good old toast that! drunk many a time at my father’s house -with three times three and all the honours! I shall not do worse by the -duke than my parent.’ And hereupon the health of the archduke was drunk -in a bumper. - -“‘But,’ said I, ‘in 1809, the Archduke of Austria was an ally of -England; and at that time matters in America were assuming a serious -aspect, the war with Britain being considered as unavoidable.’ - -“‘I know that,’ rejoined mine host: ‘but what would have become of -England if _we_ had forsaken her at that time?’ - -“What a debt of gratitude does England owe to America! and yet what an -ill-natured, peevish, ungenerous return do the English make for so much -kindness bestowed upon them by their friends across the Atlantic!” - -“But do you not think,” demanded I of my friend, “that this English -aristocratic feeling--this going in mourning for monarchy of the old -Federalists,--is gradually dying away?” - -“To be sure it is,” replied he; “but another, much more arrogant in -its nature, is taking the place of it. ‘The old Federalists,’ as you -are pleased to call them, who, if not attached to England, at least -openly avowed their admiration of the British constitution, were, in -spite of their predilection in favour of English manners, infinitely -less exclusive and intolerant, and much less addicted to the spirit of -castes, than our ‘aristocratic Whigs’ of the present day, who would -rather shut themselves up in hermetically sealed houses than share -the light of heaven with a mechanic. The former acknowledged at least -some power at home or abroad, to which they considered themselves -responsible; the latter aim at the absolute government of the country. - -“‘England,’ say our _first people_, ‘is the freest country in the -world,’ (which I, for one, am not disposed to deny, inasmuch as a man -may speak his opinion there, without setting the whole nation against -him, and running the risk of being tarred and feathered,) ‘and yet in -England,’ they say, ‘there exists the least equality of conditions. -Do we wish to be wiser than the English? Shall we shake hands with -every one? associate with every one, and treat every one as our equal, -because, forsooth, his _vote_ is as good as ours?’ - -“Some years ago,” continued my friend, “I remember being told very -seriously by a red-nosed friend of mine,--who, by the by, was a -great advocate of te-totalism, but had lived rather freely in his -youth,--that most Europeans, but especially the vulgar English, -have a notion that in America there is no rank or distinction of -castes. ‘Here,’ said he, ‘is a letter I just received from an English -music-master, to whom I was obliged to send a note in consequence of -his want of punctuality in paying his rent. The note, of course, was -written in a plain _business style_, reminding him merely of the fact -that the money would fall due on the 15th instant. Now what do you -think _the fellow_ did? He wrote me back a note couched in precisely -the same terms, and, if possible, more cavalierly than my own; as -if the whole were a transaction between two individuals of the same -standing.’ Here he read me the note, which, as far as I am able to -recollect, ran thus: - -“‘Mr. *** has received Mr. ***’s note of this morning, and, in reply to -it, assures Mr. *** that his rent will be ready _when due_, and that -it would equally have been so without Mr. *** reminding him of it.’ - -“‘Such,’ said he, ‘are the notions of the low English that come to this -country!” - -“‘Did you take any further steps in the matter?” demanded I. - -“‘Oh, no, sir; I thought it best to take no notice of him.” - -“Now, where was the impudence of the man, who was dunned before he -became a debtor? and what English landlord would have been more shocked -with the insolence of his tenant, under similar circumstances? - -“Another species of tyranny,” continued my friend, “exercised by the -higher classes of Americans consists in the proscription of all people -belonging, or rather attempting to belong, to different sets. If you -belong to the first society, you must not by any chance accept an -invitation to the second, or shake hands in a friendly manner with -people who are supposed to be of an inferior standing, except it be -on election day for a political purpose. If you belong to the second, -you may, of course, try with all your might ‘to push for the first;’ -but, if you are once seen with the third, you have done even with the -second: and so on. - -“The French had, even under Charles X, too much democracy in their -composition to be taken for safe models by the enlightened Americans; -and, now, even the English are becoming too far liberalised to serve as -a proper standard for our aristocracy. - -“If the manners of the English are, in general, stiff and reserved, -those of our fashionable people are rude and repulsive; for we have -the peculiar faculty of improving on everything we borrow from Europe, -commencing with the cut of our clothes, and ending with our language -and manners. - -“It is for this reason the dress of our young ladies--and especially -the _costume de bal_--is less becoming than that of the French; -their _air dégagé_ is apt to be mistaken for forwardness; and their -conversation, where the thing is at all attempted, is fraught with the -slang--or, what is worse, the _learning_--of the boarding-school. -Whenever one of our girls ‘gets an European education,’ an attempt -is made to make her a walking encyclopædia of arts and sciences; and -this, not so much for the sake of developing her mind, as to make her -‘superior to other girls,’ whom she is to outshine in society. I once -heard a gentleman recommend an instructor to teach his daughter ‘a -little of everything.’ ‘I want her,’ said he, ‘to know _a little_ of -Latin and Greek, a little of mathematics, a little of astronomy, and a -little of everything else; in short, I never want her to be embarrassed -in society, let the conversation turn on what it may.’ There is a -young lady of that description here. She has just done spouting Virgil -to one man, and Euclid to another, and now she is playing a waltz -on the piano. She has a whole circle of admirers, fresh from the -counting-room, around her, who, I dare be sworn, look upon her as the -eighth wonder of the world; only an Englishman was impudent enough -to observe that her acquirements tasted, one and all, of ‘Murray’s -Elements.’ - -“As a _pendant_ to the fashionable lady, you may notice, opposite -the looking-glass, one of our American exquisites. His dress was made -in London, but his manners are those of the most accomplished French -coxcomb. His air, gait, and voice are affected, the latter being almost -screwed to a childish treble; his conversation is copiously sprinkled -with foreign idioms, and he has the vanity of inviting the young -ladies of his acquaintance to smell his hair, which he assures them is -_scented with real Persian perfume_! Could you expect such a man to be -in favour of a less rigid distinction of castes? Could you imagine him -to associate with people whose hair is only greased with pomatum, or, -as is but too frequently the case in this country, with nothing but -natural grease? - -“And now look, for one moment, on our _middle-aged_ gentlemen and -ladies. Among the first we reckon those who are settled down in some -respectable business; the latter term comprises all the married women -in the country. At a party you can always distinguish them, even if -they should happen to be _young_, by their greater sobriety; the men -being satisfied with talking about business, and the women, if they do -not belong to the very tip-top of fashion, being quietly seated near -the wall, or in some corner of the room, talking, at times, very loud -amongst themselves, but modestly answering the embarrassing variety of -questions addressed to them by the gentlemen, of which unfortunately I -was never able to remember more than two, viz. ‘How do you do, ma’am?’ -and then, in the course of a quarter of an hour, with a pathetic -emphasis and a sigh, ‘How do you do again?’ - -“It has been asserted that, notwithstanding our many social -deficiencies, there is yet a vast deal of _intelligence_ in many of -our small evening circles. This, in general, may be true; but I do -not think our people understand the art of amusing themselves. We -have little of the _laisser aller_ of the French, and still less of -_la bagatelle_. Moreover, we do not trust one another sufficiently, -even at our parties. We always are, or imagine ourselves to be, in -public, where we may meet with the eye of a reporter, and, perchance, -see ourselves in print. Some of our first people went to Europe for -the express purpose of learning how to live; but, on their return, -never did more than go through the regular exercises of entertaining -people,--a thing which proved to be as great a source of annoyance to -themselves, as it was one of cheerless dissipation to their friends. - -“Our people, in fact, will continue to remain tyros in the art of -living, until they will have learned how to _laugh_. The occasional -shaking of the diaphragm--absolutely necessary to the health of -people not in a habit of taking active exercise--is a practice only -popular among the negroes in the Southern States, who, to judge from -appearances, are the happiest people in the Union. In New England -I have only, now and then, remarked a spasmodic contraction of the -muscles of the face approaching a smile or a grin; and in Boston, a -city of more than eighty thousand inhabitants, there were but two -gentlemen--one of English and the other of German extraction--who -were known to have ever burst out in a horse-laugh. The much-praised -intelligence of the higher classes of that ‘learned’ city resembles -truly a December sun;--it gives you enough light to see by, but you -require a fire to be comfortable.” - -Hardly had he spoken these words before a new general move betokened -the breaking-up of the party. The married ladies and gentlemen had, in -fact, been ready to go home ever since supper was over; but remained, -either to oblige their children, or out of politeness to their -entertainers, who were particularly anxious of the honour of keeping -_late_ hours. Sundry gapes and heavy eyelids had, indeed, long ago -indicated their disposition to go to rest; but they were not taken -notice of by the dancers, who appeared to be as fresh as ever, and -prepared for the by no means unusual thing of a second supper. The good -sense of the elderly portion, however, prevailed; and in a few moments -every young _gallant_ was on his knees--to assist his fair partner -to put on her India rubber overshoes, (for in the United States no -servant is permitted to touch the foot of a lady,) and the company -separated, after saluting the lady of the house, and shaking the hand -of the gentleman. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[9] Mr. Encke of Berlin. - -[10] This is an argument I have constantly heard used against -Europeans. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - Late Hours kept in New York.--The Oyster-shops of New York compared to - those of Philadelphia.--Important Schism on that Subject.--The Café - de l’Indépendance.--A French Character.--Description of a Fashionable - Oyster-shop.--A Sensible American just returned from Paris.--His - Account of American Aristocracy abroad.--Mr. L*** and Mr. Thistle.--A - shrewd Yankee Tailor in Paris.--His Advice to his Countrymen.--An - American Senator scorning to become the fee’d Advocate of the Mob, - after the manner of O’Connell. - - _Mons. Jourdain._--“Et comme l’on parle, qu’est-ce que c’est donc que - cela?” - - _Le maître de philosophie._--“De la prose.” - - _Mons. Jourdain._--“Quoi! quand je dis, ‘Nicole, apportez-moi mes - pantoufles, et me donnez mon bonnet de nuit,’ c’est de la prose?” - - _Le maître de philosophie._--“Oui, monsieur.” - - _Mons. Jourdain._--“Par ma foi! il y a plus de quarante ans que je dis - de la prose sans que j’en susse rien; et je vous suis le plus obligé - du monde de m’avoir appris cela.” - - MOLIERE’S _Bourgeois Gentilhomme_, Act ii. Scene 5. - - -Those of my readers who are not aware of the fact that New York is -an excellent place for shell-fish, know in all probability little -or nothing of the many elegant subterraneous establishments called -“oyster-cellars” which adorn the principal avenues and public places -of the great American Persepolis. The good people of New York swear -that their oysters are the best in the world; and though I, for my -own part, greatly prefer the delicate little “natives” of Colchester, -or the still more savoury “green oysters of Ostend,” I never before -now dared to express my opinion on so delicate a subject, for fear of -becoming unpopular, and being eventually excluded from society. One -thing, however, I can testify; which is, that the Americans display, -in the different modes of _cooking_ and _dressing_ them, a degree of -refinement altogether incommensurate with the little progress they have -thus far made in other equally useful and important branches of the -culinary art. - -The New-Yorkers alone have, I believe, twenty different ways of cooking -oysters; the Philadelphians, who will not suffer themselves to be in -anything outdone by their neighbours, twenty-one; and the Baltimorians -boast of a still greater variety of dishes prepared of that most -excellent shell-fish. This, in a country in which there is but one way -of dressing meat, and precisely the same number of sorts of gravy, is -certainly a most extraordinary phenomenon, and betokens an aristocratic -predilection in favour of that slippery _friandise_, sufficient to -establish its vast superiority over roast beef, the standing dish of -the great mass of the American people. Oysters, in fact, have acquired -a patrician reputation; though, like most of the distinctions lately -introduced into the United States, they are only to be found along -the sea-coast, and for the most part bedded _in sand_. Some of them -occasionally find their way to the “Western Country;” but they seldom -remain there long in _good odour_. I could tell a number of crack -stories on this subject; but, my diary having already grown longer than -I at first anticipated, I am obliged to omit them, and content myself -with mentioning the important schism, which, ever since the quakers -established themselves in Philadelphia, separated the respectable -inhabitants of that city from the enterprising descendants of the great -Knickerbocker. - -The Philadelphians maintain that _their_ oyster-cellars are by far -the most elegant, the most costly, and the most select in point -of company, of any in the United States; which, they say, must -strike any one who will take the trouble of spending the hours from -ten in the evening till one in the morning in one of the splendid -subterraneous vaults of that sort in Chesnut-street. “Not only,” say -the Philadelphians, “would he be astonished at the taste and splendour -of all the arrangements,--at the vastness, and even magnificence of -the rooms, the excellence of the wines, &c.--but also at the number -of respectable young men, sons of the first families, who, by their -nightly presence, give a high _ton_ to these establishments. An -oyster-cellar may, indeed, be considered as a school for good breeding; -and is, in a singularly felicitous manner, emblematic of the happiness, -quiet, and self-sufficiency of the peaceable inhabitants of the city -‘of brotherly love.’ Besides, the oyster-cellars in Philadelphia are -mostly kept by _white_ men; which fact would of itself be sufficient to -establish their superiority over the negro and mulatto establishments -of that kind in the comparatively dirty city of New York.” - -Hereupon the New-Yorkers remark “that the company which frequent -_their_ oyster-cellars, though perhaps not quite so respectable and -numerous in the _evening_, is nevertheless a great deal more so in -_day-time_; that the Philadelphia company is often _mixed_, and in -some instances absolutely _vulgar_, owing to the low price of oysters; -whereas in New York, where good oysters cannot be procured for less -than 37¹⁄₂ cents (equal to about 1_s._ 6_d._) a dozen, _loafers_ (this -is the American term for blackguards) are completely excluded, and -sent to the more plebeian beef-shops. As regards the stigma of having -their oyster-shops kept by negroes and mulattoes, it is to be observed -that of late a number of ‘clever white men’ have taken that lucrative -business out of the hands of the Africans, by whom it has been too -long degraded, and introduced a series of improvements in every respect -worthy of the high reputation which distinguishes New York among her -sister cities.” - -But there is one point in which the New-Yorkers have an immeasurable -advantage over the Philadelphians,--an advantage which proves their -city as much superior to Philadelphia as Paris is to a country -town of France, or London to a rotten borough; viz. the New York -oyster-cellars remain open until three or four in the morning, whereas -the Philadelphians close theirs very soon after one: a custom which is -vulgar and provincial in the extreme; and prevents many a gentleman, -who has made but an indifferent supper at a party, from procuring -himself the gratification of the nightmare. - -These preliminaries, I think, will be sufficient to introduce the -gentle reader to the sort of establishment towards which my friend and -I were now wending our way. The city hall clock had long ago struck -the hour of one; the crowd, which till late in the evening renders -Broadway a scene of busy activity, had dispersed to their respective -homes; and the inhabitants of the great commercial emporium of the New -World actually appeared to have gone to rest for the night; when, on -approaching the _Café de l’Indépendance_, the mingled sound of voices -and instruments convinced us that a certain portion of the Americans -at least were in the habit of keeping later hours than even the -Parisians.[11] - -“Let us look in,” proposed my friend. “It’s quite a nice establishment. -The furniture alone cost more than fifty thousand dollars.” - -“Is it not too late?” demanded I. “I thought I heard you say you wanted -some oysters: will they not shut up in the mean time?” - -“No danger of that,” replied he: “the oyster-cellars of this city are -on the plan of the early breakfast houses in London; they give you a -supper or a breakfast, whichever you please.” - -On entering the coffee-room, we found ourselves enveloped in a -dense cloud of smoke, which at first prevented us from discerning -the corps of German musicians that were regaling a motley group of -Europeans and Americans with some of the best compositions of their -countrymen. In justice to the Americans, I am bound to say that -nine-tenths of the whole company present were foreigners,--principally -Frenchmen and Spaniards, who seemed to be very little afflicted with -home-sickness,--enjoying, perhaps for the first time in their lives, -their _petit verre_ and cigar without the surveillance of the _haute -police_, or the disagreeable intrusion of some municipal guards. - -“These Frenchmen,” said my friend, “cannot be happy without _cafés_ and -_estaminets_. Deprive them of their _demi-tasse_, their _petit verre_, -and their _partie de domino_, and you set them at once in a state of -rebellion; and yet I never saw a place in which they appear to be more -at home than in New York.” - -“I have heard it said this morning that a Frenchman would rather live -in New York than in any town of France, except Paris.” - -“And well he may,” rejoined my friend. “There is nothing more tiresome -than a residence in a provincial town of France.” - -“What surprises me most,” resumed I, “is that the French in this -country take so little interest in politics.” - -“That is easily accounted for,” observed my friend. “Politics, in -France, are the exclusive occupation of editors, from whom the people -receive their daily allowance, with such seasoning as suits the -peculiarity of their taste: in America, on the contrary, every man is -called upon to take an active part in them, which is more than a man is -willing to do who is as fond of amusement as a Frenchman.” - -While he was delivering his opinion in this manner, an elderly -gentleman rose from behind a marble slab table, and, seizing the hand -of my friend, exclaimed, in an accent which very strongly resembled the -Gascon, - -“_Que diable! faites-vous ici à cette heure-ci? Je croyais toujours -qu’il n’y avait que les Français qui se tenaient débout après -minuit! Et n’avez-vous pas peur qu’on vous dénonce demain dans les -journaux,--vous qui êtes un homme public?_” - -“_Taisez-vous donc, monsieur_,” whispered my friend; “_vous me -trahissez_.” - -“Is de gentleman vid you an American?” demanded the Frenchman in a low -voice, and in broken English. - -“To all intents and purposes he is,” answered my friend. - -“_Je vous comprends_,” said the Frenchman with a significant nod. “’Tis -is a very fine evening, sar!” - -“Very fine, indeed,” responded I. - -“Do you tink it vil rain to-morrow?” - -“I hope it may; it is most excessively warm.” - -“Dat is de reason I am ’ere,” said the Frenchman; “I cannot slip ven it -is so very ’ot!” - -“And how is your lady?” demanded my friend. - -“Very vel, I tank you, sar! Madame D***, you know, is most happy ven -she is alone. _C’est son caractère Bréton._” - -“Have you been at the theatre this evening?” continued my friend in his -interrogatory. - -“No, sar! I never go to de teatre,” replied the Frenchman. “I have -given lessons until very late, and just came ’ere to read _le Courier -des Etats-Unis_ before going to bed. _Puis-je vous offrir quelque -chose?_” - -“I am much obliged to you; but it is too late,” replied my friend. - -“Too late!” exclaimed the Frenchman with affected astonishment; then -suddenly recollecting himself, and taking out his watch, “_Upon my -honneur_,” cried he, “it is past two a clock. I ’ad no idee dat it vos -so late;” and, without saying another word, the poor fellow took up his -hat and cane, and vanished through the back entry. - -“That Frenchman,” observed my friend, “is one of the most arrant -cowards I ever saw in this country. He has married an American lady; -and is afraid lest his being seen at a public-house should exclude -him from the society of his wife’s acquaintance. We have a good many -foreigners among us, on whom the dread of public opinion, and the -peculiar fashions of our people, act as a similar restraint. You can -hardly say of any man in this country that he is master _in his own -house_; much less is he at liberty to act as he pleases _in public_; -but there are very few Frenchmen among us, I assure you, at least among -the wealthier classes, who do not think with Molière’s _Tartuffe_, -‘_que ce n’est pas pêcher que de pêcher en silence_.’ But it’s now high -time to leave this place if we wish to take aught before going to bed.” -So saying, he threw some change on the plate which one of the musicians -presented to him, and, snatching up his hat, opened the door for our -exit. - -When we re-entered Broadway, the moon had spread her mantle over the -house-tops; a delicious breeze, which during the heat of day had been -sleeping on the breast of the ocean, whispered comfort to the weary -citizens; the dim noise of the multitude had wholly subsided; and the -rattle of carriages, growing fainter and fainter, gradually died away -at a distance. On approaching the neighbourhood of the Park, however, -new traces of life appeared, until at last the brilliant façade of -the theatre, surrounded by a host of liquor-shops, eating-houses, and -oyster-cellars, presented itself through the dark-green foliage with -the magic light of an enchanted castle. - -“This part of the town,” observed my friend, “is never quiet; it is the -_perpetuum mobile_ of America.” - -Accordingly, as we came near the corner, everything appeared to be -animated: hackney-coaches stood in readiness to convey those who -either did not feel disposed or were no longer able to walk, to any -part of the city; and the doors of the eating-houses, tap-rooms, and -oyster-cellars were thrown open for the reception of company. - -My friend, who happened to be somewhat acquainted in New York, selected -the establishment in the corner; which we entered, by descending -six or seven steps into a capacious bar-room, furnished in very good -style, and lit with gas as brilliantly as any saloon in London. This -was a sort of reception hall, intended for those who _drank without -stopping_; the real supper-rooms, with something like eighteen or -twenty boxes to preserve the incognito of the visiters, being lodged in -another part of the building. - -The first thing which struck our attention was a large black board, -on which there were printed, in the shape of a bill of fare, the nice -little items of “wild duck,” “wild turkey with oyster sauce,” “roast -chicken,” “chicken salad,” “roast oysters,” “fried oysters,” “stewed -oysters,” “scolloped oysters,” &c. &c. &c. - -We naturally took this as a favourable omen, and were about to betake -ourselves to the only empty box that was yet left, when my friend -recognised, in a gentleman that was entering the room, one of his -former classmates, who had just returned from Paris, where he had -devoted himself for several years to the study of medicine. - -After the usual manifestations of joy, shaking of hands, and asking -of questions, which neither of them pretended to answer but by asking -fresh ones,--for my friend and his schoolfellow were both Southerners, -and not in the habit of finishing a thing of that sort by a laconic -“How d’ye do? I am very glad to see you,”--my friend at last succeeded -in getting the companion of his youth seated by his side, and eliciting -from him, as far as I am able to remember, the following honest -confession of his experience in foreign parts, and the state of things -he found on his return to his native country. - -“I must freely confess to you,” said he, “that what I saw of my -countrymen abroad did not materially contribute to increase my respect -for them; neither did I think it calculated to enhance the respect with -which Europeans are wont to look upon the untried institutions of our -country. They hunt men of hereditary titles and privileges just as -much, and even more, than the English; the highest ambition which I -ever knew them guilty of being the desire of associating with a count -or a prince. And so different are their notions of rank and titles, -of superiority and inferiority, from those of Europeans in general, -that they make themselves not only hated by the admirers of republican -principles, but also ridiculous in the eyes of every sensible Tory. - -“If one of our business men were to-day invited to a prince’s, and -to-morrow to a count’s or a baron’s, you might be sure of his playing -the aristocrat at the baron’s house, merely because he was before asked -to a prince’s; and if, by accident, he had the day following met with -one of his countrymen ‘not yet as high up in society as himself,’ he -would have deemed it a duty due to his new standing ‘to cut him dead,’ -though he might have known him from his infancy. - -“The petty jealousies among the Americans have equally disgusted me -in every part of Europe; and appeared to me the more ludicrous, as -the being admitted into society depended frequently on circumstances -altogether beyond their control. In one instance it was owing to a -letter of introduction, for which they were indebted to the politeness -of a friend, or the kind interference of a third person, to whom they -were entirely unknown; in the other, to a high regard for the country -of which they were, nominally at least, the representatives; and, in -not a few cases, I can assure you, to mere curiosity. And yet you ought -to have heard those people, who were thus by mere chance brought in -contact with persons enjoying hereditary distinctions, talk ‘of the -different orders of society,’ with the same degree of earnestness as -if, by associating with the higher classes, they had actually partaken -of their qualities!” - -“And, then, what American, if he sets out to do it, cannot _force -himself_ into the best society by having recourse to a stratagem? -which, I believe, is altogether of our own invention, and consists in -the practice of asking people to whom we are recommended, to introduce -us to others with whom _they_ are acquainted; and so on. Not only does -our acquaintance, in this manner, wonderfully increase; but, as every -one of our friends must necessarily know some two or three persons -above him, we cannot but ‘_get up by degrees_,’ until we reach a -point infinitely above the level of our first introduction.[12] Some -conceited Englishmen have called this practice ‘the method of begging -one’s-self into society;’ but, with our _élite_, nothing is deemed -unfair which is not absolutely opposed to the established laws of the -country.” - -“But some of our people keep elegant establishments in Paris, and, I am -told, actually ruin themselves by entertaining the nobility,” observed -my friend. - -“Some _may_ injure themselves in that way,” replied the young -physician; “but I am sure others make money by it. Trust a Yankee to -himself!” - -“I do not quite understand you,” observed my friend. - -“The thing is plain enough,” rejoined the physician; “the society of -the nobility procures them the custom of their own countrymen, who -consider a man of that sort as ‘a stepping-stone to something better;’ -and he, poor innocent soul! makes them pay for the use they make of -him.” - -“_A propos_,” demanded my friend, “have you dined with Mr. L***?” - -“I was _invited_ to dine there; but merely listened to the gentleman’s -own eulogy of his wines, and the eloquent description of every dish -that was put upon the table, in order, afterwards, quietly to sneak -off, and appease the cravings of my stomach at some snug little -_restaurant_ on the other side of the water. The gentleman you allude -to has, moreover, lately turned jockey, and is now entertaining -clergymen and physicians with nothing but horse-flesh. He probably -thinks that this will ingratiate him with the English, and, in some -respects, place him on the same footing with Lord S--r.” - -“All I have heard of that extraordinary little man, who, as I -understand, has already risen to the dignity of ‘_un homme de -passage_,’[13] convinces me that he is acting the _bourgeois -gentilhomme_, for the peculiar gratification of the less rich, but more -refined, gentlemen of the old _régime_; only that he is not quite so -generous as his original in the inimitable comedy of Molière.” - -“Neither does he trouble himself with so many _masters_. He is, in this -respect at least, a true independent American, whose conversation would -convince you in a moment that he has never had a master in his life. So -far from it, he has himself turned schoolmaster, teaching a certain -portion of his _raw_ countrymen, not indeed the art of _eating_, but -of _preparing_ savoury dishes. Let one of those persons have the most -trifling advantage over any of his fellow beings, and he is sure to use -it as a means of establishing his superiority; for the scrambling for -rank is born with them, and is only increased by a residence in Europe.” - -“Neither does it merely apply to such ordinary characters as you have -just mentioned,” added my friend. “I have known American _editors_ -assume in Paris--seldom, I believe, in London--an air of supercilious -dignity, which would have been amusing if it had not been too absurd -to be tolerated. They would _allow_ Chevalier, and other writers of -the French periodical press, to _cultivate_ their acquaintance, and -occasionally ‘condescend to _receiving_ them at their houses;’ as if -the hospitality they had received in Paris, and the willingness of -certain people of fashion to come to their _soirées_, had actually -given to their talents--which, if they had remained in America, would, -in all probability, have never been known to the world--an additional -lustre, that outshone the merits of their European contemporaries.” - -“There might have been another reason for the aristocratic presumption -of the American editor,” observed the physician. “The American may -have kept a _valet_, while his French colleague was probably satisfied -with the service of the _garçon_ of his hotel. A thing of this sort -separates an American man of letters from an European as effectually as -if the ocean rolled its waves between them.” - -“That _must_ be the case,” resumed my friend; “for, if literary -reputation were the sole basis of their respective ranks, I think our -American editors would be obliged to give in.” - -“And yet they pretend to pity the political ignorance of the French, -and even the English; forgetting that those nations have two thousand -years’ history on their backs, which must necessarily form the -precedent to the great majority of their conclusions.” - -“But have you not seen the famous Mr. Thistle?” demanded my friend. “I -understand he keeps the crack house in Paris.” - -“He certainly does,” replied the physician; “and there is at least -something in his manner of entertaining people which appears to be -frank and generous, though a great many of our first society think him -excessively vulgar for not inviting them. The fact is, he can command -better company in Paris than that of his own countrymen; and, under -these circumstances, he is not to be censured for excluding those who -otherwise would have excluded _him_. On the whole, I am rather glad -that a character like his should be somewhere established in Europe; -it is a living parody of the leading features of our aristocracy, -illustrative of the true principle on which our ‘first people’ claim -equality with the _noblesse_ of Europe, and the conditions on which -the latter are willing to admit it. Mr. Thistle, moreover, has quite a -patrician bearing, which is truly burlesque when compared to the less -than ordinary carriage of those who will have nothing to do with him, -because they never associated with him in his own country.” - -“And what does Mr. Thistle care for the slander-hurling tongues of -his countrymen?--he whose mansion has been repeatedly graced by the -presence of princes of the blood? And where is the fashionable American -who, in spite of his fox-like protestations to the contrary, would not -be glad to have the _entrée_ of a house, the _réunion_ of the best and -most ancient society of Paris?” - -“Mr. Thistle is not merely admitted into the best society, he is -actually one of them; though the preliminary steps of his promotion are -kept as secret as those of the candidates for admission into the oldest -fraternity on earth, and perhaps somewhat humiliating, as are said to -be the first introductions to that honourable body. One little fact, -however, could not entirely be concealed from the world; which is this, -that when the _élite_ of the _faubourg St. Germain_, who first took him -by the hand, put it to the vote what persons should be admitted to his -parties, the master of the house himself was excluded. - -“The most sensible American I met in Paris,” continued the physician, -“was Mr. ***, a tailor from Boston; and the most insipid of my -countrymen were those for whom he made the uniforms for presentation at -court. These, in the absence of any fixed rule, (I have no doubt that, -in case of Mr. Van Buren’s being ousted, a bill will be introduced -into Congress prescribing the uniforms to be worn by American citizens -abroad,) were altogether left to the fancy of the artist, who never -failed to recommend to every inexperienced Yankee courtier to put _a -star_ on his coat, in opposition to the _eagle_ worn by the servants -of the American minister. In this manner, he assured his patrons, they -would neither risk being taken for servants, nor would they have to be -ashamed of wearing plain coats by the side of persons all decorated -with ribbons. Those who held a high rank in the militia he always -advised to be presented in the uniform of colonel, that being the -lowest title a respectable American ought ever to assume in Europe; -and a military dress being the best excuse for the natural _brusquerie_ -of men fresh taken from business. In this manner the shrewd Yankee -tailor not only acquires a fortune, but also sees his reputation -travel, with his coats, from shore to shore; there being Americans -that will never cross the British Channel without a suit of military -clothes, in case they should be invited to dine or breakfast with a -nobleman. - -“But I do not wish to dwell any longer on the absurdities of our people -abroad, for we are in this respect just like the English; our true -character being only to be found at home, where it developes itself -under the immediate influence of our institutions. Nothing, therefore, -could be more preposterous than to judge us by the specimens we send -abroad; and it was a wise remark of Thomas Jefferson, though, I -believe, sufficiently misunderstood by his countrymen, that an American -who has lived above seven years in Europe is a stranger to his own -country, and no longer fit for any office of responsibility, even if -he should have been employed during all that time as a diplomatic -agent of his government.” - -“Thomas Jefferson,” observed my friend, “has said a number of clever -things, and warned us against a great many mistakes into which we have -since fallen. He particularly dreaded the influence of British example -on our public and private character; and the result has proved that he -was not mistaken.” - -“And yet how little did he suspect that our political partisans would -find professional statesmen willing to become the fee’d advocates of -their doctrines, after the manner of O’Connell!” rejoined the physician. - -“What do you mean?” interrupted I, astonished at the boldness of the -remark. - -“I mean what I say,” replied he; “I know a senator for whom the -manufacturers of his district are said to make an annual purse, on the -ground that his Congressional duties interfere with the exercise of his -profession as a lawyer.” - -“I cannot believe it,” interrupted my friend with some vehemence; “and -I will not believe it: but, even if it were true,” added he, with a -sardonic smile, “the honourable senator would, for the honour of his -State, be the very reverse of the vulgar Irish agitator; one is paid by -his rich and respectable constituents, the other by the very beggars -of his country! None of our Whig senators, I am sure, would ever -condescend to become the hired advocates of the mob.” - -“A fine piece of news this!” ejaculated the physician; “but I suspected -as much as this when I saw the change wrought on the manners and -customs of our people since my absence; how the simple, unsophisticated -habits of our citizens have given way to cold formality and -conceit,--and how the generous hospitality which was wont to grace our -people is fast yielding to a vulgar and ostentatious display of wealth. - -“I am actually afraid of meeting my old acquaintance, and it is for -this reason you see me play the owl at this late hour; at which, at -least, I am allowed to have my own way, without being intruded upon by -my friends, or pushed aside by the busy multitude, to whom I must for -ever remain an unprofitable stranger.” - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[11] It is well known that, except during the Carnival, the -coffee-houses in Paris shut up shortly after the close of the theatres, -which is seldom later than twelve o’clock. - -[12] In some instances a mere name will answer the purpose of an -introduction. Mr. ***, of Boston, meets in Paris Mr. W***, with whom he -became acquainted in Philadelphia. “Do you know Chateaubriand?” asks -the Bostonian.--“I meet him very often.”--“Is he worth knowing?”--“Most -assuredly.”--“Adieu!”--The day following Mr. W*** meets Chateaubriand. -“_Un drôle de corps_ that!” says Chateaubriand, “you sent me -yesterday.”--“Who, I?”--“Yes, you, sir!”--“Whom?”--“The American.” The -conclusion of the dialogue may be imagined. - -[13] This, as is well known, is the term applied by the witty Parisians -to those distinguished personages whose caricatured busts are exhibited -in the principal arcades of the city. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - Return Home.--A Passage from the Edinburgh Review, apologetical of - American Federalism.--Speculation on the Subject.--Little Reward - of Democracy in the United States.--The Higher Classes contending - for the Purse.--Consequence of this Policy.--Declaration of an - American Reviewer with regard to American Poets--their Reward in - Europe.--Falling asleep.--The Nightmare. - - “The earth has bubbles as the water has, - And these are of them.” - - _Macbeth_, Act i. Scene 3. - - -On my return home, I found it impossible for me to go to sleep. The -events of the day were yet fresh upon my mind, and I required some -abstraction to set my thoughts to rest, and efface the disagreeable -impressions produced by the conversation of the stranger. Undetermined -as to the means of escaping from my own reflections, I searched the -books and papers on my writing-table; where, unfortunately for my -quiet, I happened to glance my eye on an American republication of -the “Edinburgh Review,” and a few scattered numbers of the “Southern -Literary Messenger.” I mechanically opened the first, and, as -misfortune would have it, found my attention at once riveted by the -following passage:-- - -“Purge the British constitution of its corruptions,” said Adams, “and -give to the popular branch equality of representation, and it would be -the most perfect institution ever devised by the wit of man.” - -“Purge it of its corruptions,” replied Hamilton, “and it would become -an _impracticable_ government: as it stands at present, with all its -supposed defects, it is the most perfect government that ever existed.” - -These remarks, I thought, proceeding from the two saints by which the -American Whigs still swear on solemn occasions, prove at least Hamilton -to have been the abler statesman, though they are both clearly -indicative of the spirit which pervaded some of the leading patriots of -the revolution. - -Anxious to learn the opinion of a British writer on so interesting a -subject, I read on, and was struck with the following good-natured -apology for the doctrines and sentiments of the old Federalists. - -“The leaning of the Federalists towards monarchy and aristocracy,” says -the reviewer, “has probably at all times been a good deal exaggerated -by their antagonists. That there is, at the present time, hardly any -such feeling, may be easily admitted; and it has probably been wearing -out by degrees ever since the revolution, in proportion as men saw -that realised without a struggle (!), which many in America, and still -more in England, had deemed impossible,--the firm establishment of a -republican government over many millions of people, with sufficient -power to preserve order at home, and sufficient energy to maintain the -relations of peace and war. _But, at the first, no reasonable doubt -can be entertained of the fondness for monarchical institutions which -prevailed among the leading Federalists.”_ - -The perusal of this passage, after a day spent, as I have described, -in the city of New York, naturally gave rise to singular reflections. -“What is it,” said I to myself, “that the Americans have established -without a struggle? And wherein consists the stability of their -republican institutions, if it be not in the fact that the people from -year to year conquer them anew from the wealthy opposition? And, as -regards the predilection for monarchical and aristocratic institutions, -who that has observed the higher classes of Americans, at home or -abroad, can doubt but that they are at this moment as strong as at the -time of Thomas Jefferson?” - -The old Federalists have not given up _one_ of their former -pretensions,--for there is no converting men in politics by argument; -but they are probably satisfied that they must _wait for a favourable -opportunity_ of establishing them: they have become more cautious in -their actions and expressions, because they now _fear_ the people -over whom they once expected to rule. All that I have been able to see -in the United States convinces me that the wealthy classes are in no -other country as much opposed to the existing government; and that, -consequently, no other government can be considered as less permanently -established, or more liable to changes, than that of the United States. -And this state of danger the soft speeches of the Whigs try to conceal -from the people by directing their attention almost exclusively to the -financial concerns of the country. Wealth, in other countries,--as, for -instance, in England,--acts as the _vis inertiæ_ of the state; talent -from above, and the wants of the labouring classes from below, acting -as motors. In America the case is the reverse: the wealthy classes -wishing for a change which the labouring ones resist; and talent, I am -sorry to say, acting a subordinate part, ready to serve the cause of -either party that promises to reward its exertions. - -This, I am aware, is a sad picture of America, but nevertheless a true -one; and I appeal to the history of the last half century, and to the -biography of American statesmen, if an impartial one should ever be -written, in confirmation of the general correctness of my statement. -Exceptions to this rule exist, of course, in every State; but, without -any particular predilection in favour of democracy, it is easy to -perceive that these mostly occur on the popular side. - -Whenever a man of talent or wealth embraces the cause of democracy, -he becomes at once the butt of society, and the object of the most -unrelenting persecution with all the “respectable” editors, lawyers, -bankers, and business men in the large cities. To one democratic paper -published in a city, there are generally from ten to twelve, sometimes -twenty, Federal or Whig journals; which I take for the best possible -proof that talent loves to be rewarded, and in republics, as well as in -monarchies, naturally serves those who are best _able_ to reward it. - -The democrats have not the means of remunerating the services of -their public men in the manner of the Whigs; for, with the exception -of a few government offices, with mere pittances for salaries, and -the election of senators and members of Congress,--persons “hired at -the rate of eight dollars a day,”--all lucrative offices of trust -and emolument are in the gift of the opposition, whose patronage, -therefore, is a matter of infinitely higher consideration than that of -the President and his cabinet. - -The little pecuniary reward which the zealots and champions of -democracy meet with in the United States, is, indeed, one of the -reasons for which they are despised by their aristocratic opponents. -“What talents,” argue the latter, “can a man possess who will give up -all manner of business, and devote himself exclusively to politics, -in order, near the close of his life, to sit down contented with the -editorship of a penny paper, a membership of Congress, or an office of -from twelve hundred to two thousand dollars a year? Success in life is -the best proof of ability; and who that will look upon the respective -condition of our political partisans can for one moment be doubtful as -to which of them have the _best side_ of the question?” - -It is for such and similar reasons that they take every opportunity -of railing against the increased patronage of the government; as if -the government of the United States were something apart from the -people,--a power which the people have to contend with, and against -which, therefore, they must direct their concentrated efforts! And a -considerable portion of the people are actually duped in that way; they -imagine that what is taken away from the government is gained by the -community, forgetting that the government is of their own choice, and -that the men placed at the head of it rise or fall at their beck. They -do not seem to be aware that, as long as the government of the United -States remains elective, all executive power vested in it increases but -the sovereignty of the people, and that the patronage of the government -is essentially their own. - -On the subject of patronage the aristocratic press of America is truly -eloquent; that being the point for which it most contends, the lever of -its patriotism. What, indeed, would become of the flower of statesmen -of the present Whig party, if the government of the country, or the -people who elect that government, could reward the advocacy of their -cause as princely as the “wealthy and enlightened” opposition?--if -_money_ were at the command of the public servants, as it is at the -disposal of those who manage the great financial concerns of the -country? Hence the people are warned against putting the sword and the -purse into the same hands. “Let the government have the sword,” say the -Whigs, “provided we keep the purse.” - -The purse is the point round which the whole system of politics turned -ever since the origin of the country. The war for and against a bank -did, indeed, agitate the United States before they were quite ushered -into existence; and has continued to throw the elements of state into -confusion, and to act in a truly corrosive manner on every true source -of national grandeur. What effect it had on the progress of literature -and the arts is exultingly shown in an article of “The Southern -Literary Messenger;” a copy of which, as I observed before, I found by -accident on my writing-table. - -“The intellectual character of our republic,” says a writer in that -clever periodical, in a paper bearing the title “Scriptural Anthology,” -“makes rapid advances in improvement. A very few years ago it was -seriously argued whether or not the air of America was favourable to -the inspirations of genius; now our artists, actors, and poets bid fair -to take the lead of their European rivals. If the former fall short in -anything, - - ‘We ought to blame the culture, not the soil.’ - -It is now conceded on all sides that we have the stamina, or, (to -speak in a business-like tone,) the _raw material_ of the first -quality. No doubt but we have had Homers in embryo, many a ‘mute -inglorious Milton,’ and many a Tasso, ‘cabined, cribbed, and confined’ -by oppressive circumstances. But in spite of all those proverbial -obstacles, to most of which the _American_ bard[14] is particularly -liable, a poetical star sometimes gleams above our horizon. Such -instances, it must be confessed, are rare; and in what part of the -world is the advent of a good poet _not_ a rare occurrence? With us -but little encouragement is offered for any man to devote his time and -talents to this branch of literature; and, without exclusive devotion, -we are apt to suppose that excellence in any art or science is but -seldom attained. But, with respect to encouragement, matters are -beginning to take a change for the better;--in our literary world the -golden age has been delayed to the last: poetical speculations, albeit -of an airy and immaterial nature, now yield something substantial in -the way of profit. Poets begin to have ‘a local habitation,’ not in -the gaol or garret; and ‘a name,’ not synonymous with starvation. -From being objects of cool regard or warm persecution, they have -become quite the lions of the day; _they visit foreign countries, -associate with the nobility, and drink tea_ (or _punch_) _in the serene -presence_ _of the royal family_. _Even_ at home, the study (!) of -poetry has almost dared to compete with the absorbing calculations of -compound interest; and many a clerk is ‘condemned to cross his father’s -spirit,’ as Chaucer saith, by penning a stanza ‘when he should make out -a bill.’” - -This sort of reasoning, in which I am half inclined to believe the -author was serious, together with the fact that the principal poets -of America are really obliged to seek “a local habitation and a name” -in _Europe_, may be considered as the best proof of the all-absorbing -influence of the purse;--an influence which already acts restrictively -on genius and talent of the highest order, and will, if it be not -counteracted by a more generous system of legislation, and a different -spirit diffused _among the people_, constantly absorb the main sources -of thought and action, which give to every nation its individual life -and character. - -But I trust that the good sense of the people, the intelligence -pervading the masses, and, above all, the high degree of morality and -virtue which distinguishes the American above all other nations in the -world, will be proof against the temptations of a handful of political -sceptics; and that the country, blessed with Nature’s richest gifts, -and selected by Providence for the noblest experiment tried by man, -will fulfil its mission,--which is not only the civilization of a new -world, but the practical establishment of principles which heretofore -have only had an ideal existence. - -Thus cogitating, I pulled my night-cap over my head, put out the -candle, and fell fast asleep. Agitated as I had been during the whole -day, my sleep could not remain undisturbed by dreams. I imagined -myself somewhere near the Hudson or the Delaware, in the midst of a -large, flourishing city, besieged, stormed, and finally carried by a -victorious Western army, whose gallant leader dictated laws written in -blood to the affrighted populace. A deputation of “leading citizens,” -who had come to offer their riches as a ransom for their lives, he thus -apostrophized in a stern and solemn voice:--“Fools that ye were to wish -for artificial distinctions! Know that the origin of every aristocracy -is the sword, not the purse, or the Jews would long ago have become the -masters of the world! You have claimed the purse for yourself, and now -the sword shall take it!” - - - END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - - - LONDON: - PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, - Bangor House, Shoe Lane. - - -FOOTNOTES: - -[14] The word “American” is in Italics in the original. - - - - - Transcriber’s Notes - -Errors in punctuation have been fixed. - -In the Table of Contents, “Stephen Girard” changed to “Stephen Gerard” - -Page 22: “shores of the Monongahila” changed to “shores of the -Monongahela” - -Page 146: “go shoping” changed to “go shopping” - -Page 228: “eve the English” changed to “even the English” - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARISTOCRACY IN AMERICA, VOL. -1 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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