stood, with her silver lamp in her hand, and her pale misty robes casting their wan lustre faintly around her. Oh me, how glorious it was! how sad, how very very sad I was!
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Skipped writing on Tuesday—so much the better—a miserable day spent between heart-ach and side-ach.
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Rose late, breakfasted with H——, afterwards went and sat on the forecastle, where I worked the whole morning, woman's work, stitching. It was intensely hot till about two o'clock, when a full east wind came on, which the sailors all blessed, but which shook from its cold wings a heavy, clammy, chilly dew, that presently pierced all our clothes, and lay on the deck like rain. At dinner we were very near having a scene: the Bostonian and the Jacksonite falling out again about the President; and a sharp, quick, snapping conversation, which degenerated into a snarl on one side, and a growl on the other, for a short time rather damped the spirits of the table. Here, at least, General Jackson seems very unpopular, and half the company echoed in earnest what I said in jest to end the dispute, "Oh hang General Jackson!" After dinner, returned to the forecastle with H—— to see the sun set; her brother followed us thither.
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Finished my work, and then, tying on sundry veils and handkerchiefs, danced on deck for some time;—I then walked about with ——, by the light of the prettiest young moon imaginable.
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Afterwards sat working and stifling in the round-house till near ten, and then, being no longer able to endure the heat, came down, undressed, and sat luxuriously on the ground in my dressing-gown drinking lemonade. At twelve went to bed; the men kept up a horrible row on deck half the night; singing, dancing, whooping, and running over our heads.
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The captain brought me to-day a land-swallow, which, having flown out so far, came hovering exhausted over the ship, and suffered itself to be caught. Poor little creature! how very much more I do love all things than men and women! I felt sad to death for its weary little wings and frightened heart, which beat against my hand, without its having strength to struggle. I made a cage in a basket for it, and gave it some seed, which it will not eat—little carnivorous wretch! I must catch some flies for it.
My poor little bird is dead. I am sorry! I could mourn almost as much over the death of a soulless animal, as I would rejoice at that of a brute with a soul. Life is to these winged things a pure enjoyment; and to see the rapid pinions folded, and the bright eye filmed, conveys sadness to the heart, for 'tis almost like looking on—what indeed is not—utter cessation of existence. Poor little creature! I wished it had not died—I would but have borne it tenderly and carefully to shore, and given it back to the air again!
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I sat down stairs in my cabin all day; the very spirit of doggerel possessed me, and I poured forth rhymes as rapidly as possible, and they were as bad as possible.—Wrote journal; in looking over my papers, fell in with the Star of Seville—some of it is very good. I'll write an English tragedy next. Dined at table—our heroes have drunk wine, and are amicable. After dinner, went on deck, and took a short walk; saw the sun set, which he did like a god, as he is, leaving the sky like a geranium curtain, which overshadowed the sea with rosy light—beautiful! Came down and sat on the floor like a Turkish woman, stitching, singing, and talking, till midnight; supped—and to bed. My appetite seems like the Danaïdes' tub, of credible memory.
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On soundings. A fog and a calm. Sky yellow, sea grey, dripping, damp, dingy, dark, and very disagreeable. Sat working, reading, and talking in our own cabin all day. Read part of a book called Adventures of a Younger Son. The gentlemen amused themselves with fishing, and brought up sundry hake and dog-fish. I examined the heart of one of the fish, and was surprised at the long continuance of pulsation after the cessation of existence. In the evening, sang, talked, and played French blind man's buff;—sat working till near one o'clock, and reading Moore's Fudge Family,—which is good fun. It's too hard to be becalmed within thirty hours of our destination.
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Becalmed again till about two o'clock, when a fair wind sprang up, and we set to rolling before it like mad. How curious it is to see the ship, like a drunken man, reel through the waters, pursued by that shrill scold the wind! Worked at my handkerchief, and read aloud to them Mrs. Jameson's book.
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Set my foot half into a discussion about Portia, but withdrew it in time. Lord bless us! what foul nonsense people do talk, and what much fouler nonsense it is to answer them. Got very sick, and lay on the ground till dinner-time; went to table, but withdrew again while it was yet in my power to do so gracefully. Lay on the floor all the evening, singing for very sea-sickness; suddenly it occurred to me, that it was our last Saturday night on board; whereupon I indited a song to the tune of "To Ladies' eyes a round, boys,"—and having duly instructed Mr. —— how to "speak the speech," we went to supper. Last—last—dear, what is there in that word! I don't know one of this ship's company, don't care for some of them—I have led a loathsome life in it for a month past, and yet the last Saturday night seemed half sad to me. Mr. —— sang my song and kept my secret: the song was encored, and my father innocently demanded the author; I gave him a tremendous pinch, and looked very silly. Merit, like murder, will out; so I fancy that when they drank the health of the author, the whole table was aware of the genius that sat among them. They afterwards sang a clever parody of "To all ye ladies now on land," by Mr. ——, the "canny Scot," who has kept himself so quiet all the way. Came to bed at about half-past twelve: while undressing, I heard the captain come down stairs, and announce that we were clear of Nantucket shoal, and within one hundred and fifty miles of New York, which intelligence was received with three cheers. They continued to sing and shout till very late.
SATURDAY NIGHT SONG.
Rose at half-past six: the sun was shining brilliantly; woke H—— and went on deck with her. The morning was glorious, the sun had risen two hours in the sky, the sea was cut by a strong breeze, and curled into ridges that came like emerald banks crowned with golden spray round our ship; she was going through the water at nine knots an hour. I sat and watched the line of light that lay like a fairy road to the east—towards my country, my dear dear home.
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Breakfasted at table for the first time since I've been on board the ship—I did hope, the last. After breakfast, put my things to rights, tidied our cabin for prayers, and began looking out the lessons; while doing so, the joyful sound, "Land, land!" was heard aloft. I rushed on deck, and between the blue waveless sea, and the bright unclouded sky, lay the wished-for line of darker element. 'Twas Long Island: through a glass I descried the undulations of the coast, and even the trees that stood relieved against the sky. Hail, strange land! my heart greets you coldly and sadly! Oh, how I thought of Columbus, as with eyes strained and on tiptoe our water-weary passengers stood, after a summer's sail of thirty days, welcoming their mother earth! The day was heavenly, though intensely hot, the sky utterly cloudless, and, by that same token, I do not love a cloudless sky. They tell me that this is their American weather almost till Christmas; that's nice, for those who like frying. Commend me to dear England's soft, rich, sad, harmonious skies and foliage—commend me to the misty curtain of silver vapour that hangs over her September woods at morning, and shrouds them at night;—in short, I am home-sick before touching land. After lunch, my father read prayers to us, and that excellent sermon of dear Mr. Thurstone's on taking the sacrament. After prayers, came on deck; there were two or three sails in sight—hailed a schooner which passed us—bad news of the cholera—pleasant this—walked about, collected goods and chattels, wrote journal, spent some time in seeing a couple of geese take a sea-swim with strings tied to their legs. After dinner, sat in my cabin some time—walked on deck; when the gentlemen joined us, we danced the sun down, and the moon up. The sky was like the jewel-shop of angels; I never saw such brilliant stars, nor so deep an azure to hang them in. The moon was grown powerful, and flooded the deck, where we sat playing at blind man's buff, magic music, and singing, and talking of shore till midnight, when we came to bed. I must not forget how happy an omen greeted us this morning. As we stood watching the "dolce color di oriental zaffiro," one of the wild wood pigeons of America flew round our mizen-mast, and alighted on the top-sail yard;—this was the first living creature which welcomed us to the New World, and it pleased my superstitious fancy. I would have given any thing to have caught the bird, but, after resting itself awhile, it took flight again and left us. We were talking to-day to one of our steerage passengers, a Huddersfield manufacturer, going out in quest of a living, with five children of his own to take care of, and two nephews. The father of the latter, said our Yorkshireman, having married a second time, and these poor children being as it were "thristen (thrust) out into the world loike—whoy oi jist took care of them." Verily, verily, he will have his reward—these tender mercies of the poor to one another are beautiful, and most touching.
I had desired the mate to call me by sunrise, and accordingly, in the midst of a very sound and satisfactory sleep, Mr. Curtis shook me roughly by the arm, informing me that the sun was just about to rise. The glorious god was quicker at his toilet than I at mine; for though I did but put on a dressing-gown and cloak, I found him come out of his eastern chamber, arrayed like a bridegroom, without a single beam missing. I called H——, and we remained on deck watching the clouds like visions of brightness and beauty, enchanted creations of some strange spell-land—at every moment assuming more fantastic shapes and gorgeous tints. Dark rocks seemed to rise, with dazzling summits of light pale lakes of purest blue spread here and there between—the sun now shining through a white wreath of floating silver, now firing, with a splendour that the eye shrank from, the edges of some black cloudy mass. Oh, it was surpassing!—We were becalmed, however, which rather damped all our spirits, and half made the captain swear. Towards mid-day we had to thank Heaven for an incident. A brig had been standing aft against the horizon for some hours past, and we presently descried a boat rowing from her towards us. The distance was some five miles, the sun broiling; we telescoped and stood on tiptoe; they rowed stoutly, and in due time boarded us. She was an English brig from Bristol, had been out eleven weeks, distressed by contrary winds, and was in want of provisions. The boat's crew was presently surrounded, grog was given the men, porter to the captain and his companion. Our dear captain supplied them with every thing they wanted, and our poor steerage passengers sent their mite to the distressed crew in the shape of a sack of potatoes; they remained half an hour on board, we clustering round them, questioning and answering might and main. As H—— said, they were new faces at least, and, though two of the most ill-favoured physiognomies I ever set eyes on, there was something refreshing even in their ugly novelty. After this the whole day was one of continual excitement, nearing the various points of land, greeting vessels passing us, and watching those bound on the same course. At about four o'clock a schooner came alongside with a news-collector; he was half devoured with queries; news of the cholera, reports of the tariff and bank questions, were loudly demanded: poor people, how anxiously they looked for replies to the first! Mr. ——, upon whose arm I leant, turned pale as death while asking how it had visited Boston. Poor fellow! poor people all! my heart ached with their anxiety. As the evening darkened, the horizon became studded with sails; at about eight o'clock we discovered the Highlands of Neversink, the entrance to New York harbour, and presently the twin lights of Sandy Hook glimmered against the sky. We were all in high spirits; a fresh breeze had sprung up, we were making rapidly to land; the lovely ship, with all sail set, courtesying along the smooth waters. The captain alone seemed anxious, and was eagerly looking out for the pilot. Some had gathered to the ship's side, to watch the progress of Colonel ——, who had left us and gone into the news-boat, which was dancing like a fairy by the side of our dark vessel. Cheering resounded on all sides, rockets were fired from the ship's stern, we were all dancing, when suddenly a cry was echoed round of "A pilot, a pilot!" and close under the ship's side a light graceful little schooner shot like an arrow through the dim twilight, followed by a universal huzza; she tacked, and lay to, but proved only a news-boat: while, however, all were gathered round the collector, the pilot-boat came alongside, and the pilot on board; the captain gave up the cares and glories of command, and we danced an interminable country dance. All was excitement and joyous confusion; poor Mr. —— alone seemed smitten with sudden anxiety; the cholera reports had filled him with alarm, lest his agent should have died, and his affairs on his arrival be in confusion and ruin—poor fellow! I was very sorry for him. We went down to supper at ten, and were very merry, in spite of the ship's bumping twice or thrice upon the sands. Came up and dawdled upon deck—saw them cast anchor; away went the chain, down dropped the heavy stay, the fair ship swung round, and there lay New York before us, with its clustered lights shining like a distant constellation against the dark outline of land. Remained on deck till very late—were going to bed, when the gentlemen entreated us to join their party once more; we did so, sang all the old songs, laughed at all the old jokes, drank our own and each other's health, wealth, and prosperity, and came to bed at two o'clock. Our cradle rocks no longer, but lies still on the still waters; we have reached our destination; I thank God! I did so with all my soul.
It is true, by my faith! it is true; there it is written, here I sit, I am myself and no other, this is New York and nowhere else—Oh! "singular, strange!" Our passengers were all stirring and about at peep of day, and I got up myself at half past six. Trunks lay scattered in every direction around, and all were busily preparing to leave the good ship Pacific. Mercy on us! it made me sad to leave her and my shipmates. I feel like a wretch swept down a river to the open sea, and catch at the last boughs that hang over the banks to stay me from that wide loneliness. The morning was real Manchester. I believe some of the passengers had brought the fog and rain in their English clothes, which they were all putting on, together with best hats, dandy cravats, etc.—to make a sensation. A fog hung over the shores of Staten Island and Long Island, in spite of which, and a dreary, heavy, thick rain, I thought the hilly outline of the former very beautiful; the trees and grass were rather sunburnt, but in a fair spring day I should think it must be lovely. We breakfasted, and packed ourselves into our shawls and bonnets, and at half-past nine the steam-boat came alongside to take us to shore: it was different from any English steam-boat I ever saw, having three decks, and being consequently a vessel of very considerable size. We got on board her all in the rain and misery, and, as we drifted on, our passengers collected to the side of the boat, and gave "The dear old Lady" three cheers. Poor ship! there she lay—all sails reefed, rocking in melancholy inaction, deserted by her merry inmates, lonely and idle—poor Pacific! I should like to return in that ship; I would willingly skip a passage in order to do so. All were looking at the shores; some wondering and admiring, others recognising through the rain and mist, as best they might; I could not endure to lift my eyes to the strange land, and, even had I done so, was crying too bitterly to see any thing. Mr. —— and Mr. —— went to secure apartments for us at the American Hotel; and, after bidding good-by to the sea, we packed ourselves into a hackney coach, and progressed. The houses are almost all painted glaring white or red; the other favourite colours appear to be pale straw colour and grey. They have all green Venetian shutters, which give an idea of coolness, and almost every house has a tree or trees in its vicinity, which looks pretty and garden-like. We reached our inn,—the gentlemen were waiting for us, and led us to our drawing-room. I had been choking for the last three hours, and could endure no more, but sobbed like a wretch aloud.
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There was a piano in the room, to which I flew with the appetite of one who has lived on the music of the speaking-trumpet for a month; that, and some iced lemonade and cake, presently restored my spirits. I went on playing and singing till I was exhausted, and then sat down and wrote journal. Mr. —— went out and got me Sir Humphry Davy's Salmonia, which I had been desiring, and he had been speaking of on board ship.
At five o'clock we all met once more together to dinner. Our drawing-room being large and pleasant, the table was laid in it. 'Tis curious how an acquaintanceship of thirty days has contrived to bind together in one common feeling of kindness and good-fellowship persons who never met before, who may never meet again. To-morrow we all separate, to betake ourselves each to our several path; and, as if loath to part company, they all agreed to meet once more on the eve of doing so, probably for ever. How strongly this clinging principle is inherent in our nature! These men have no fine sympathies of artificial creation, and this exhibition of adhesiveness is in them a real and heart-sprung feeling. It touched me—indeed it may well do so; for friends of thirty days are better than utter strangers, and when these my shipmates shall be scattered abroad, there will be no human being left near us whose face we know, or whose voice is familiar to us. Our dinner was a favourable specimen of eating as practised in this new world; every thing good, only in too great a profusion; the wine drinkable, and the fruit beautiful to look at: in point of flavour it was infinitely inferior to English hothouse fruit, or even fine espalier fruit raised in a good aspect. Every thing was wrapped in ice, which is a most luxurious necessary in this hot climate; but the things were put on the table in a slovenly outlandish fashion; fish, soup, and meat, at once, and puddings, and tarts, and cheese, at another once; no finger-glasses, and a patched table-cloth,—in short, a want of that style and neatness which is found in every hotel in England. The waiters, too, reminded us of the half-savage Highland lads that used to torment us under that denomination in Glasgow—only that they were wild Irish instead of wild Scotch. The day had cleared, and become intensely hot, towards evening softening and cooling under the serene influences of the loveliest moon imaginable. The streets were brilliantly lighted, the shops through the trees, and the people parading between them, reminded me very much of the Boulevards. We left the gentlemen, and went down stairs, where I played and sang for three hours. On opening the door, I found a junta of men sitting on the hall floor, round it, and smoking. Came up for coffee; most of the gentlemen were rather elated,—we sang, and danced, and talked, and seemed exceeding loath to say good-by. I sat listening to the dear Doctor's theory of the nature of the soul, which savoured infinitely more of the spirituality of the bottle than of immaterial existences. I heard him descant very tipsily upon the vital principle, until my fatigue getting fairly the better of my affection for him, I bade our remaining guests good night, and came to bed.
I have been in a sulky fit half the day, because people will keep walking in and out of our room, without leave or license, which is coming a great deal too soon to Hope's idea of Heaven. I am delighted to see my friends, but I like to tell them so, and not that they should take it for granted. When I made my appearance in my dressing-gown (my clothes not being come, and the day too hot for a silk pelisse), great was my amazement to find our whole ship's company assembled at the table. After breakfast they dispersed, and I sat writing journal, and playing, and singing. Colonel —— and Mr. —— called. Our Boston friends leave us to-day for their homes. I am sorry to lose them, though I think H—— will be the better for rest. Mrs. —— called to see D—— to-day. I remember her name, as one of the first things I do remember. A visit from a Mr. ——, one of the directors of the Custom-House, and W—— P——, brother to the proprietor of the Park theatre, who is a lawyer of considerable reputation here. The face of the first was good, the other's clever. I said nothing, as usual, and let them depart in peace. We dined at half-past two, with the H——s and Mr. ——. At half-past three we walked down to the quay to convoy them to their steam-boat, which looked indeed like a "castle on the main." We saw them on board, went down and looked at the state cabin, which was a magnificent room, and would have done charmingly for a gallopade. We bade our new friends, whom I like better than some old ones, good-by, and walked briskly on to the Battery, to see them as they passed it. The sun was intensely hot; and as I struggled forward, hooked up to this young Sheffield giant, I thought we were the living illustration of Hood's "Long and Short" of it. We gained the battery, and saw the steam-boat round; our travellers kept the deck with "hat and glove and handkerchief," as long as we could see them. This Battery is a beautiful marine parade, commanding the harbour and entrance of the bay, with Governor's Island, and its dusky red fort, and the woody shores of New Jersey and Long Island. A sort of public promenade, formed of grass plots, planted with a variety of trees, affords a very agreeable position from whence to enjoy the lovely view. My companion informed me that this was a fashionable resort some time ago; but owing to its being frequented by the lowest and dirtiest of the rabble, who in this land of liberty roll themselves on the grass, and otherwise annoy the more respectable portion of the promenaders, it has been much deserted lately, and is now only traversed by the higher classes as a thoroughfare. The trees and grass were vividly and luxuriantly green; but the latter grew rank and long, unshorn and untidy. "Oh," thought I, "for a pair of English shears, to make these green carpets as smooth and soft and thick as the close-piled Genoa velvet." It looked neglected and slovenly. Came home up Broadway, which is a long street of tolerable width, full of shops, in short the American Oxford Road, where all people go to exhibit themselves and examine others. The women that I have seen hitherto have all been very gaily dressed, with a pretension to French style, and a more than English exaggeration of it. They all appear to me to walk with a French shuffle, which, as their pavements are flat, I can only account for by their wearing shoes made in the French fashion, which are enough in themselves to make a waddler of the best walker that ever set foot to earth. Two or three were pretty girls; but the town being quite empty, these are probably bad specimens of the graces and charms that adorn Broadway in its season of shining. Came home and had tea; after which my father, I, and Mr. —— crossed the Park (a small bit of grass enclosed in white palings, in plain English, a green) to the theatre. Wallack was to act in the Rent Day. Mercy, how strange I felt as I once more set foot in a theatre; the sound of the applause set my teeth on edge. The house is pretty, though rather gloomy, well formed, about the size of the Haymarket, with plenty of gold carving, and red silk about it, looking rich and warm. The audience was considerable, but all men; scarce, I should think, twenty women in the dress circle, where, by the by, as well as in the private boxes, I saw men sitting with their hats on. The Rent Day is a thorough melodrama, only the German monster has put on a red waistcoat and top boots. Nathless this is a good thing of a bad sort: the incidents, though not all probable, or even as skilfully tacked together as they might be, are striking and dramatically effective, and the whole piece turns on those home feelings, those bitterest realities of every-day life, that wring one's heart, beyond the pain that one allows works of fiction to excite. As for the imitation of Wilkie's pictures, the first was very pretty, but the second I did not see, my face being buried in my handkerchief, besides having a quarter less seven fathom of tears over it, at the time. I cried most bitterly during the whole piece; for as in his very first scene Wallack asks his wife if she will go with him to America, and she replies, "What! leave the farm?" I set off from thence and ceased no more. The manager's wife and another woman were in the box, which was his, and I thought we should have carried away the front of it with our tears. Wallack played admirably: I had never seen him before, and was greatly delighted with his acting. I thought him handsome of a rustic kind, the very thing for the part he played, a fine English yeoman: he reminded me of ——. At the end of the play, came home with a tremendous headach: sat gossiping and drinking lemonade. Presently a tap at the door came, and through the door came Mr. ——. I shook hands with him, and began expatiating on the impertinence of people's not enquiring down stairs whether we were at home or not before they came up—I don't believe he took my idea. Mr. —— came in to bid us good-by: he starts to-morrow for Baltimore. He is a nice good-tempered young Irishman, with more tongue than brains, but still clever enough: I am sorry he is going. Came to bed-room at eleven, remained up till one, unpacking goods and chattels. Mercy on me, what a cargo it is! They have treated us like ambassadors, and not one of our one-and-twenty huge boxes have been touched.
Rose at eight. After breakfast, began writing to my brother; while doing so they brought up Captain ——'s and Mr. ——'s cards. I was delighted to see our dear Captain again, who, in spite of his glorious slip-slop, is a glorious fellow. They sat some time. Colonel —— called—he walks my father off his legs. When they were all gone, finished letter and wrote journal. Unpacked and sorted things. Opened with a trembling heart my bonnet-box, and found my precious Dévy squeezed to a crush—I pulled it out, rebowed, and reblonded, and reflowered it, and now it looks good enough "pour les thauvages, mamthelle Fannie." Worked at my muslin gown; in short, did a deal. A cheating German woman came here this morning with some bewitching canezous and pelerines: I chose two that I wanted, and one very pretty one that I didn't; but as she asked a heathen price for 'em, I took only the former;—dear good little me![1] We dined at five. After dinner, sang and played to my father, "all by the light of the moon." The evening was, as the day had been, lovely; and as I stood by his side near the open window, and saw him inhaling the pure fresh air, which he said invigorated and revived him, and heard him exclaim upon the beauty of our surroundings, half of my regret for this exile melted away.
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He said to me, "Is there not reason to be grateful to God, when we look at these fair things?"—and indeed, indeed, there is: yet these things are not to me what they were. He told me that he had begun a song on board ship for the last Saturday night, but that, not feeling well, he had given it up, but the very same ideas I had made use of had occurred to him.
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This is not surprising; the ideas were so obvious that there was no escaping them. My father is ten years younger since he came here, already.
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Colonel —— came in after tea, and took my father off to the Bowery theatre. I remained with D——, singing and stitching, and gossiping till twelve o'clock. My father has been introduced to half the town, and tells me that far from the democratic Mister, which he expected to be every man's title here, he had made the acquaintance of a score of municipal dignitaries, and some sixty colonels and major generals—of militia. Their omnibuses are vehicles of rank, and the Ladies Washington, Clinton, and Van Rensalear,[2] rattle their crazy bones along the pavement for all the world like any other old women of quality.
These democrats are as title-sick as a banker's wife in England. My father told me to-day, that Mr. ——, talking about the state of the country, spoke of the lower orders finding their level: now this enchants me, because a republic is a natural anomaly; there is nothing republican in the construction of the material universe; there be highlands and lowlands, lordly mountains as barren as any aristocracy, and lowly valleys as productive as any labouring classes. The feeling of rank, of inequality, is inherent in us, a part of the veneration of our natures; and like most of our properties seldom finds its right channels—in place of which it has created artificial ones suited to the frame of society into which the civilised world has formed itself. I believe in my heart that a republic is the noblest, highest, and purest form of government; but I believe that, according to the present disposition of human creatures, 'tis a mere beau ideal, totally incapable of realisation. What the world may be fit for six hundred years hence, I cannot exactly perceive; but in the mean time, 'tis my conviction that America will be a monarchy before I am a skeleton.
One of the curses of living at an inn in this unceremonious land:—Dr. —— walked in this evening accompanied by a gentleman, whom he forthwith introduced to us. I behaved very ill, as I always do on these occasions; but 'tis an impertinence, and I shall take good care to certify such to be my opinion of these free-and-easy proceedings. The man had a silly manner, but he may be a genius for all that. He abused General Jackson, and said the cholera was owing to his presidency; for that Clay had predicted that when he came into power, battle, pestilence, and famine, would come upon the land: which prophecy finds its accomplishment thus: they have had a war with the Indians, the cholera has raged, and the people, flying from the infected cities to the country, have eaten half the farmers out of house and home. This hotel reminds me most extremely of our "iligant" and untidy apartments in dear nasty Dublin, at the Shelbourne. The paper in our bed-room is half peeling from the walls, our beds are without curtains: then to be sure there are pier looking-glasses, and one or two pieces of showy French furniture in it. 'Tis customary, too, here, I find, for men to sleep three or four in a room: conceive an Englishman shown into a dormitory for half-a-dozen! I can't think how they endure it; but, however, I have a fever at all those things. My father asked me, this evening, to write a sonnet about the wild pigeons welcoming us to America; I had thought of it with scribbling intent before, but he wants me to get it up here, and that sickened me.
Rose at eight: after breakfast tidied my dressing-box, mended and tucked my white muslin gown—wrote journal: while doing so, Colonel —— came to take leave of us for a few days: he is going to join his wife in the country. Mr. —— called and remained some time; while he was here, the waiter brought me word that a Mr. —— wanted to see me. I sent word down that my father was out, knowing no such person, and supposing the waiter had mistaken whom he asked for; but the gentleman persisted in seeing me, and presently in walked a good-looking elderly man, who introduced himself as Mr. ——, to whom my father had letters of introduction. He sat himself down, and pottered a little, and then went away. When he was gone, Mr. —— informed me that this was one of the men of New York, in point of wealth, influence, and consideration. He had been a great auctioneer, but had retired from business, having, among his other honours, filled the office of Mayor of New York. My father and Mr. —— went to put our letters in the post: I practised and needle-worked till dinner-time; after dinner, as I stood at the window looking at the lovely sky and the brilliant earth, a curious effect of light struck me. Within a hundred yards of each other, the Town-Hall lay, with its white walls glowing in the sunset, while the tall grey church-steeple was turning pale in the clear moonlight. That Town Hall is a white-washed anomaly, and yet its effect is not altogether bad. I took a bath at the house behind it, which is very conveniently arranged for that purpose, with a French sort of gallery, all papered with the story of Psyche in lead-coloured paper, that reminded me of the doughy immortals I used to admire so much, at the inns at Abbeville and Montreuil. The house was kept by a foreigner—I knew it. My father proposed to us a walk, and we accordingly sallied forth. We walked to the end of Broadway, a distance of two miles, I should think, and then back again. The evening was most lovely. The moon was lighting the whole upper sky, but every now and then, as we crossed the streets that led to the river, we caught glimpses of the water, and woody banks, and the sky that hung over them; which all were of that deep orange tint, that I never saw but in Claude's pictures. After walking nearly a mile up Broadway, we came to Canal Street: it is broader and finer than any I have yet seen in New York; and at one end of it, a Christian church, copied from some Pagan temple or other, looked exceedingly well, in the full flood of silver light that streamed from heaven. There were many temptations to look around, but the flags were so horribly broken and out of order, that to do so was to run the risk of breaking one's neck:—this is very bad.[3] The street was very much thronged, and I thought the crowd a more civil and orderly one than an English crowd. The men did not jostle or push one another, or tread upon one's feet, or kick down one's shoe heels, or crush one's bonnet into one's face, or turn it round upon one's head, all which I have seen done in London streets. There is this to be said: this crowd was abroad merely for pleasure, sauntering along, which is a thing never seen in London; the proportion of idle loungers who frequent the streets there being very inconsiderable, when compared with the number of people going on business through the town. I observed that the young men to-night invariably made room for women to pass, and many of them, as they drew near us, took the cigar from their mouth, which I thought especially courteous.[4] They were all smoking, to a man, except those who were spitting, which helped to remind me of Paris, to which the whole place bore a slight resemblance. The shops appear to me to make no show whatever, and will not bear a comparison with the brilliant display of the Parisian streets, or the rich magnificence of our own, in that respect. The women dress very much, and very much like French women gone mad; they all of them seem to me to walk horribly ill, as if they wore tight shoes. Came in rather tired, took tea, sang an immensity, wrote journal, looked at the peerless moon, and now will go to bed.
Stitching the whole blessed day; and as I have now no maid to look after them, my clothes run some chance of being decently taken care of, and kept in order. Mr. —— and his daughter called; I like him; he appears very intelligent; and the expression of his countenance is clever and agreeable. His daughter was dressed up in French clothes, and looked very stiff; but, however, a first visit is an awkward thing, and nothing that isn't thorough-bred ever does it quite well. When they were gone, Mr. —— called. By the by, of Mr. ——, while he was speaking, he came to the word calculate, and stopping half way, substituted another for it, which made me laugh internally. Mercy on me! how sore all these people are about Mrs. Trollope's book, and how glad I am I did not read it. She must have spoken the truth though, for lies do not rankle so.
Worked till dinner-time. —— dined with us: what a handsome man he is; but oh, what a within-and-without actor! I wonder whether I carry such a brand in every limb and look of me; if I thought so, I'd strangle myself. An actor shall be self-convicted, in five hundred. There is a ceaseless striving at effect, a straining after points in talking, and a lamp and orange-peel twist in every action. How odious it is to me! Absolute and unmitigated vulgarity I can put up with, and welcome; but good Heaven defend me from the genteel version of vulgarity! to see which in perfection, a country actor, particularly if he is also manager, and sees occasionally people who bespeak plays, is your best occasion. My dear father, who was a little elated, made me sing to him, which I greatly gulped at. When he was gone, went on playing and singing. Wrote journal, and now to bed. I'm dead of the side-ach.[5]
Rose at eight. While I was dressing, D—— went out of the room, and presently I heard sundry exclamations: "Good God, is it you! How are you? How have you been?" I opened the door, and saw my uncle.
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After breakfast, went to church with my father: on our way thither-ward met the Doctor, and the Doctor's friend, and Mr. ——, to whom I have taken an especial fancy. The church we went to is situated half way between the Battery and our hotel. It is like a chapel in the exterior, being quite plain, and standing close in among the houses; the interior was large and perfectly simple. The town is filling, and the church was well attended. 'Tis long since I have heard the church service so well read; with so few vices of pronunciation, or vulgarisms of emphasis. Our own clergy are shamefully negligent in this point; and if Chesterfield's maxim be a good one in all cases, which it is, surely in the matter of the service of God's house 'tis doubly so; they lose an immense advantage, too, by their slovenly and careless way of delivering the prayers, which are in themselves so beautiful, so eloquent, so full of the very spirit of devotion; that whereas, now, a congregation seems but to follow their leader, in gabbling them over as they do, were they solemnly, devoutly, and impressively read, many would feel and understand, what they now repeat mechanically, without attaching one idea to the words they utter. There was no clerk to assist in the service, and the congregation were as neglectful of the directions in the prayer-book, and as indolent and remiss in uttering the responses, as they are in our own churches; indeed, the absence of the clerk made the inaudibility of the congregation's portion of the service more palpable than it is with us. The organ and chanting were very good; infinitely superior to the performances of those blessed little parish cherubim, who monopolise the praises of God in our churches, so much to the suffering of all good Christians not favoured with deafness. The service is a little altered—all prayers for our King, Queen, House of Lords, Parliament, etc., of course omitted: in lieu of which, they pray for the President and all existing authorities. Sundry repetitions of the Lord's Prayer, and other passages, were left out; they correct our English, too, substituting the more modern phraseology of those, for the dear old-fashioned them, which our prayer-book uses: as, "spare thou those, O God," instead of "spare thou them, O God, which confess their faults." Wherever the word wealth occurs, too, these zealous purists, connecting that word with no idea but dollars and cents, have replaced it by a term more acceptable to their comprehension,—prosperity,—therefore they say, "In all time of our prosperity (i. e. wealth), in all time of our tribulation," etc. I wonder how these gentlemen interpret the word commonwealth, or whether, in the course of their reading, they ever met with the word deprived of the final th; and if so, what they imagined it meant.[6] Our prayers were desired for some one putting out to sea; and a very touching supplication to that effect was read, in which I joined with all my heart. The sermon would have been good, if it had been squeezed into half the compass it occupied; it was upon the subject of the late terrible visitations with which God has tried the world, and was sensibly and well delivered, only it had "damnable iteration." The day was like an oven; after church, came home. Mr. —— called, also Mr. ——, the Boston manager, who is longer than any human being I ever saw. Presently after, a visit from "his honour the Recorder," a twaddling old lawyer by the name of ——, and a silent young gentleman, his son. They were very droll. The lawyer talked the most; at every half sentence, however, quoting, complimenting, or appealing to "his honour the Recorder," a little, good-tempered, turnippy-looking man, who called me a female; and who, the other assured me, was the Chesterfieldian of New York (I don't know precisely what that means): what fun! Again I had an opportunity of perceiving how thorough a chimera the equality is, that we talk of as American. "There's no such thing," with a vengeance! Here they were, talking of their aristocracy and democracy; and I'm sure, if nothing else bore testimony to the inherent love of higher things which I believe exists in every human creature, the way in which the lawyer dwelt upon the Duke of Montrose, lo whom, in Scotch kindred, he is allied at the distance of some miles, and Lady Loughborough, whom Heaven knows how he got hold of, would have satisfied me, that a my Lord, or my Lady, are just as precious in the eyes of these levellers, as in those of Lord and Lady-loving John Bull himself. They staid pottering a long time. One thing his "honour the Recorder" told me, which I wish lo remember: that the only way of preserving universal suffrage from becoming the worst of abuses, was of course to educate the people,[7] for which purpose a provision is made by government. Thus: a grant of land is given, the revenue of which being estimated, the population of the State are taxed to precisely the same amount; thus furnishing, between the government and the people, an equal sum for the education of all classes.[8] I do nothing but look out of window all the blessed day long: I did not think in my old age to acquire so Jezebel a trick; but the park (as they entitle the green opposite our windows) is so very pretty, and the streets so gay, with their throngs of smartly-dressed women, and so amusing with their abundant proportion of black and white caricatures, that I find my window the most entertaining station in the world. Read Salmonia: the natural-history part of it is curious and interesting; but the local descriptions are beyond measure tantalising; and the "bites," five thousand times more so. Our ship-mate, Mr. ——, called: I was glad to see him. Poor man! how we did reel him off his legs to be sure,—what fun it was! My father dined out: D—— and I dined tête-à-tête. Poor D—— has not been well to-day: she is dreadfully bitten by the musquitoes, which, I thank their discrimination, have a thorough contempt for me, and have not come near me: the only things that bother me are little black ants, which I find in my wash-hand basin, and running about in all directions. I think the quantity of fruit brings them into the houses. After dinner, sat looking at the blacks parading up and down; most of them in the height of the fashion, with every colour in the rainbow about them. Several of the black women I saw pass had very fine figures (the women here appear to me to be remarkably small, my own being, I should think, the average height); but the contrast of a bright blue or pink crape bonnet, with the black face, white teeth, and glaring blue whites of the eyes, is beyond description grotesque. The carriages here are all, to my taste, very ugly; hung very high from the ground, and of all manner of ungainly old-fashioned shapes. Now this is where, I think, the Americans are to be quarrelled with: they are beginning at a time when all other nations are arrived at the highest point of perfection, in all matters conducive to the comfort and elegance of life: they go into these countries; into France, into our own dear little snuggery, from whence they might bring models of whatever was most excellent, and give them to their own manufacturers, to imitate or improve upon. When I see these awkward uncomfortable vehicles swinging through the streets, and think of the beauty, the comfort, the strength, and lightness of our English-built carriages and cabs, I am much surprised at the want of emulation and enterprise, which can be satisfied with inferiority, when equality, if not superiority, would be so easy.[9] At seven o'clock, D—— and I walked out together. The evening was very beautiful, and we walked as far as Canal Street and back. During our promenade, two fire-engines passed us, attended by the usual retinue of shouting children; this is about the sixth fire since yesterday evening. They are so frequent here, that the cry "Fire, fire!" seems to excite neither alarm nor curiosity, and except the above-mentioned pains-taking juveniles, none of the inhabitants seem in the least disturbed by it.[10] We prosecuted our walk down to the Battery, but just as we reached it we had to return, as 'twas tea-time. I was sorry: the whole scene was most lovely. The moon shone full upon the trees and intersecting walks of the promenade, and threw a bright belt of silver along the water's edge. The fresh night wind came over the broad estuary, rippling it, and stirring the boughs with its delicious breath. A building, which was once a fort from whence the Americans fired upon our ships, is now turned into a sort of café, and was brilliantly lighted with coloured lamps, shining among the trees, and reflected in the water. The whole effect was pretty, and very Parisian. We came home, and had tea, after which Mr. —— came in. He told us, that we must not walk alone at night, for that we might get spoken to; and that a friend of his, seeing us go out without a man, had followed us the whole way, in order to see that nothing happened to us: this was very civil. Played and sang, and strove to make that stupid lad sing, but he was shy, and would not open his mouth even the accustomed hair's-breadth. At about eleven he went away; and we came to bed at twelve.
Rose at eight. After breakfast wrote journal, and practised for an hour. —— called. I remember taking a great fancy to him about eight years ago, when I was a little girl in Paris; but, mercy, how he is aged! I wonder whether I am beginning to look old yet, for it seems to me that all the world's in wrinkles. My father went out with him. Read a canto in Dante; also read through a volume of Bryant's poetry, which Mr. —— had lent us, to introduce us to the American Parnassus. I liked a great deal of it very well; and I liked the pervading spirit of it much more, which appears to me hopeful and bright, and what the spirit of a poet should be; for in spite of all De Staël's sayings, and Byron's doings, I hold that melancholy is not essentially the nature of a poet. Though instances may be adduced of great poets whose Helicon has been but a bitter well of tears, yet, in itself, the spirit of poetry appears to me to be too strong, too bright, too full of the elements of beauty and of excellence, too full of God's own nature, to be dark or desponding; and though from the very fineness of his mental constitution a poet shall suffer more intensely from the baseness and the bitterness which are the leaven of life, yet he, of all men, the most possesses the power to discover truth, and beauty, and goodness, where they do exist; and where they exist not, to create them. If the clouds of existence are darker, its sunshine is also brighter to him; and while others, less gifted, lose themselves in the labyrinth of life, his spirit should throw light upon the darkness, and he should walk in peace and faith over the stormy waters, and through the uncertain night; standing as 'twere above the earth, he views with clearer eyes its mysteries; he finds in apparent discord glorious harmony, and to him the sum of all is good; for, in God's works, good still abounds to the subjection of evil. 'Tis this trustful spirit that seems to inspire Bryant, and to me, therefore, his poetry appears essentially good. There is not much originality in it. I scarce think there can be, in poems so entirely descriptive: his descriptions are very beautiful, but there is some sameness in them, and he does not escape self-repetition; but I am a bad critic, for which I thank God! I know the tears rolled down my cheeks more than once as I read; I know that agreeable sensations and good thoughts were suggested by what I read; I thought some of it beautiful, and all of it wholesome (in contradistinction to the literature of this age), and I was well pleased with it altogether. Afterwards read a sort of satirical burlesque, called "Fanny," by Hallek: the wit being chiefly confined to local allusions and descriptions of New York manners, I could not derive much amusement from it.
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When my father came home, went with him to call on Mrs. ——. What I saw of the house appeared to me very pretty, and well adapted to the heat of the season. A large and lofty room, paved with India matting, and furnished with white divans, and chairs, no other furniture encumbering or cramming it up; it looked very airy and cool. Our hostess did not put herself much out of the way to entertain us, but after the first "how do you do," continued conversing with another visiter, leaving us to the mercy of a very pretty young lady, who carried on the conversation at an average of a word every three minutes. Neither Mr. —— nor his eldest daughter were at home; the latter, however, presently came in, and relieved her sister and me greatly. We sat the proper time, and then came away.
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This is a species of intercourse I love not any where. I never practised it in my own blessed land, neither will I here. We dined at six: after dinner played and sang till eight, and then walked out with D—— and my father, by the most brilliant moonlight in the world. We went down to the Battery; the aquatic Vauxhall was lighted up very gaily, and they were sending up rockets every few minutes, which, shooting athwart the sky, threw a bright stream of light over the water, and, falling back in showers of red stars, seemed to sink away before the steadfast shining of the moon, who held high supremacy in heaven. The bay lay like molten silver under her light, and every now and then a tiny skiff, emerging from the shade, crossed the bright waters, its dark hull and white sails relieved between the shining sea and radiant sky. Came home at nine, tea'd and sat embroidering till twelve o'clock, industrious little me.
This day week we landed in New York; and this day was its prototype, rainy, dull, and dreary; with occasional fits of sunshine, and light delicious air, as capricious as a fine lady. After breakfast, Colonel —— called. Wrote journal, and practised till one o'clock. My father then set off with Colonel —— for Hoboken, a place across the water, famous once for duelling, but now the favourite resort of a turtle-eating club, who go there every Tuesday to cook and swallow turtle. The day was as bad as a party of pleasure could expect, (and when were their expectations of bad weather disappointed?) nathless, my father, at the Colonel's instigation, persevered, and went forth, leaving me his card of invitation, which made me scream for half an hour; the wording as follows:—"Sir, the Hoboken Turtle Club will meet at the grove, for spoon exercise, on Tuesday, the 11th inst., by order of the President." Mr. —— and the Doctor paid us a visit of some length.
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When they were gone, read a canto in Dante, and sketched till four o'clock. I wish I could make myself draw. I want to do every thing in the world that can be done, and, by the by, that reminds me of my German, which I must persecute. At four o'clock sent for a hair-dresser, that I might in good time see that I am not made an object on my first night. He was a Frenchman, and after listening profoundly to my description of the head-dress I wanted, replied, as none but a Frenchman could, "Madame, la difficulté n'est pas d'exécuter votre coiffure, mais de la bien concevoir." However, he conceived and executed sundry very smooth-looking bows, and, upon the whole, dressed my hair very nicely, but charged a dollar for so doing; O nefarious! D—— and I dined tête-à-tête; the evening was sulky—I was in miserable spirits.
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Sat working till my father came home, which he did at about half past six. His account of his dinner was any thing but delightful; to be sure he has no taste for rainy ruralities, and his feeling description of the damp ground, damp trees, damp clothes, and damp atmosphere, gave me the rheumatiz, letting alone that they had nothing to eat but turtle, and that out of iron spoons.—"Ah, you vill go a pleasuring."
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He had a cold before, and I fear this will make him very ill. He went like wisdom to take a vapour bath directly. —— came, and sat with us till he returned. Had tea at eight, and embroidered till midnight. The wind is rioting over the earth. I should like to see the Hudson now. The black clouds, like masses of dark hair, are driven over the moon's pale face; the red lights and fire engines are dancing up and down; the streets, the church bells are all tolling—'tis sad and strange.