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When I came down to breakfast, found a very pretty diamond ring and some Scotch rhymes, from Mr. ——, what we call a small return of favours. I wish my hand wasn't so abominably ugly,—I hate to put a ring upon it. —— called to see if we would ride; but D—— had too much to do; and, after sitting pottering for some time, I sang him the Messenger Bird, and sent him away. Went for a few moments to Mrs. ——, who seemed much better. Went out to pay sundry bills and visits. Called at Mr. ——'s, and spent half an hour most delightfully in his study. His picture of my father is very like, and very agreeable. 'Tis too youthful by a good deal; but the expression of the face is extremely good, and upon the whole, except that stern-looking thing of Kearsley's, 'tis the likest thing I have seen of him. We had a long discussion about the stage,—the dramatic art; which, as Helen says, "is none," for, "no art but taketh time and pains to learn." Now I am a living and breathing witness that a person may be accounted a good actor, and to a certain degree deserve the title, without time or pains of any sort being expended upon the acquisition of the reputation. But, on other grounds, acting has always appeared to me to be the very lowest of the arts, admitting that it deserves to be classed among them at all, which I am not sure it does. In the first place, it originates nothing; it lacks, therefore, the grand faculty which all other arts possess—creation. An actor is at the best but the filler-up of the outline designed by another,—the expounder, as it were, of things which another has set down; and a fine piece of acting is at best, in my opinion, a fine translation. Moreover, it is not alone to charm the senses that the nobler powers of mind were given to man; 'tis not alone to enchant the eye, that the gorgeous pallet of the painter, and the fine chisel of the statuary, have become, through heavenly inspiration, magical wands, summoning to life images of loveliness, of majesty, and grace; 'tis not alone to soothe the ear that music has possessed, as it were, certain men with the spirit of sweet sounds; 'tis not alone to delight the fancy, that the poet's great and glorious power was given him, by which, as by a spell, he peoples all space, and all time, with undying witnesses of his own existence; 'tis not alone to minister to our senses that these most beautiful capabilities were sown in the soil of our souls. But 'tis that, through them, all that is most refined, most excellent and noble, in our mental and moral nature, may be led through their loveliness, as through a glorious archway, to the source of all beauty and all goodness. It is that by them our perceptions of truth may be made more vivid, our love of loveliness increased, our intellect refined and elevated, our nature softened, our memory stored with images of brightness, which, like glorious reflections, falling again upon our souls, may tend to keep alive in them the knowledge of, and the desire after, what is true, and fair, and noble. But, that art may have this effect, it must be to a certain degree enduring. It must not be a transient vision, which fades and leaves but a recollection of what it was, which will fade too. It must not be for an hour, a day, or a year, but abiding, inasmuch as any thing earthly may abide, to charm the sense and cheer the soul of generation after generation. And here it is that the miserable deficiency of acting is most apparent. Whilst the poems, the sculptures, of the old Grecian time yet remain to witness to these latter ages the enduring life of truth and beauty; whilst the poets of Rome, surviving the trophies of her thousand victories, are yet familiar in our mouths as household words; whilst Dante, Boccaccio, that giant, Michael Angelo, yet live, and breathe, and have their being amongst us, through the rich legacy their genius has bequeathed to time; whilst the wild music of Salvator Rosa, solemn and sublime as his painting, yet rings in our ears, and the souls of Shakspeare, Milton, Raphael, and Titian, are yet shedding into our souls divinest influences from the very fountains of inspiration;—where are the pageants that, night after night, during the best era of dramatic excellence, riveted the gaze of thousands, and drew forth their acclamations?—gone, like rosy sunset clouds;—fair painted vapours, lovely to the sight, but vanishing as dreams, leaving no trace in heaven, no token of their ever having been there. Where are the labours of Garrick, of Macklin, of Cooke, of Kemble, of Mrs. Siddons?—chronicled in the dim memories of some few of their surviving spectators; who speak of them with an enthusiasm which we, who never saw them, fancy the offspring of that feeling which makes the old look back to the time of their youth as the only days when the sun knew how to shine. What have these great actors left, either to delight the sense or elevate the soul, but barren names, unwedded to a single lasting evidence of greatness! If, then, acting be alike without the creating power and the enduring property, which are at once the highest faculty of art, and its most beneficial purpose, what becomes of it when ranked with efforts displaying both in the highest degree? To me it seems no art,[79] but merely a highly rational, interesting, and exciting amusement; and I think men may as well, much better, perhaps, spend three hours in a theatre than in a billiard or bar-room,—and this is the extent of my approbation and admiration of my art. Called on Mrs. ——, whom I like very much. Went to the riding-school to try a new horse, which was ten hands high, all covered with shaggy angry-looking hair, with a donkey's head, and cart-horse legs, with one of which he peached. —— came to see me mount. Dr. ——'s grey horse was standing in the school with a man's saddle on. I persuaded —— to put me on it, and I then sent him away.
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When he was gone, rode for about an hour without any pommel, and found I managed it famously. I slipped my foot out of the stirrup in order to see if I could sit without both; but this proved rather too much, for I presently slid very comfortably off. On my way home, met young ——, with his head so completely in the clouds, that I had bowed to him, and was driving on, when he just perceived me, and fell into a confusion of bows, which he continued long after the coach had passed him. Found the usual token of his having been at our house—a most beautiful nosegay; roses, hyacinths, and myrtle. While I was arranging them, I heard a tremendous shriek of laughter in the hall, which was followed by the appearance of Mr. ——. After sitting with him some time, I went and sat with Mrs. ——. The amiable Chargé d'Affaires dined with us. After dinner, went to see Mrs. ——; but she was too unwell to receive me.
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Saw Dr. ——, who expressed manifold deplorings at my departure: gave him the words of the Sisters. At half-past five, went to the theatre: play, the Wonder. I acted only so-so: my father was a leetle dans les vignes du Seigneur. When the play was over, the folk called for us, and we went on: he made them a neat speech, and I nothing but a cross face and three courtesies. How I do hate this! 'Tis quite enough to exhibit myself to a gaping crowd, when my profession requires that I should do so in a feigned semblance; but to come bobbing and genuflexioning on, as me myself, to be clapped and shouted at, and say, "Thank ye kindly," is odious. After the play, dressed, and off to Mrs. ——, with my father and Mr. ——. On our way thither, the spring of our coach broke, and we had to go halting along for half an hour, with a graceful inclination towards the pavement on one side, which was very pleasant. There was quite a brilliant party at Mrs. ——'s. Told Mr. —— that I had thrown his horse down. Saw and spoke to all Philadelphia. —— was there, and actually sitting still. Fell in love with Mr. ——'s youngest son, who is a youth of some ten years old, and hovers round me with a plenitude of silent admiration and astonishment that is most delightful. Miss ——, who is a very pretty creature (in fact, all American women are pretty creatures, I never saw any prettier), sang Dalla Gioga e del Piacer. She sings very well, but pronounces Italian very Americanly, which is a pity. I don't know any thing so necessary to good singing as a good Italian pronunciation, except perhaps a good voice, and a good school. They made me sing, and I sang them the galley song, after which Miss —— warbled again. They were surrounding me again, with a shower of "pray do's," when perceiving D—— making towards me, with my boa on her arm, I sat down and sang them, "Yes, aunt, I am ready to go," to their infinite edification. I wonder if Mrs. —— would object to this; I should think not, as —— is not here to catch it again.
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Came home, and supped. I had eaten nothing since four o'clock, and was famished; for I do not like stewed oysters and terrapins, which are the refreshments invariably handed round at an American evening party. Did not get to bed till two o'clock. How beautifully bright the heavens are here! The sky has an earnest colour that is lovely and solemn to look at; and the moon, instead of being "the maiden with white fire laden," has a rich, mellow, golden light, than which nothing can be more beautiful. The stars, too, are more vivid than in our skies, and there is a variety of hues in their light which I never observed before,—some reddish, some violet, and again others of the palest silver.
After breakfast, Mr. —— called, also ——, to know at what time we would ride. I fixed at twelve, thereby calculating that we should escape the people coming out from church. Went and sat a few minutes with Mrs. ——.
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Spent my Sunday morning on my knees, indeed, but packing, not praying. The horses did not come till half-past twelve; so that, instead of avoiding, we encountered the pious multitude. I'm sure when we mounted there were not less than a hundred and fifty beholders round the Mansion House. Rode out to Laurel Hill. The cross road was muddy, so we took the turnpike, which was clean and short, and would have been pleasant enough but for my brute of a horse. Upon my word, these American horses are most unsafe to ride. I never mount one but I recommend myself to the care of Heaven, for I expect to have every bone in my body broken before I dismount again. At Laurel Hill we lunched. While D—— put up her hair, —— and I ran down to the water side. The ice had melted from the river, in whose still waters the shores, and trees, and bridge lay mirrored with beautiful and fairy-like distinctness. The long icicles under the rocky brow beneath which we stood had not melted away, though the warm sun was shining brilliantly on them, and making the granite slab on which we stood sparkle like a pavement of diamonds. I called to the echo, and sang to it scales up, and scales down, and every manner of musical discourse I could think of, during which interesting amusement I as nearly as possible slipped from my footing into the river, which caused both —— and myself to gulp. We left our pleasant sunny stand at last, to rejoin D—— and the lunch, and, having eaten and drunken, we remounted and proceeded on to Manayunk, under the bright, warm, blessed sunshine, which came down like a still shining shower upon the earth. The beautiful little water-courses had all broken from their diamond chains, and came dancing and singing down the hills, between the cedar bushes, and the masses of grey granite, like merry children laughing as they run. After crossing the bridge at Flat Rock, I took the van, riding by myself much faster than my companions, whom I left to entertain each other. Several times, as I looked down at the delicious fresh water, all rosy with the rosy light of the clouds, and gushing round the masses of rock that intercepted their channel, I longed to jump off my horse, and go down among their shallow brilliant eddies. The whole land was mellow with warm sunset, the sky soft, and bright, and golden, like a dream. I stopped for a long time opposite the Wissihiccon creek. The stone bridge, with its grey arch, mingled with the rough blocks of rock on which it rested, the sheet of foaming water falling like a curtain of gold over the dam among the dark stones below, on whose brown sides the ruddy sunlight and glittering water fell like splinters of light. The thick, bright, rich tufted cedars basking in the warm amber glow, the picturesque mill, the smooth open field along whose side the river waters, after receiving this child of the mountains into their bosom, wound deep, and bright, and still, the whole radiant with the softest light I ever beheld, formed a most enchanting and serene subject of contemplation. Further on, I stopped again, to look at a most beautiful mass of icicles, formed by some water falling from a large wooden conduit which belonged to a mill. The long thick masses of silvery white clung in downward pyramids together, and on the ground, great round balls of purest transparent ice, like enormous crystal grapes, lay clustered upon each other. I waited on a little sunny knoll above this glittering fairy work, till my companions joined me, when, leaving D—— to pursue the main road, —— and I turned off, and explored a pretty ravine, down which another mountain stream, half free wild water, half shimmering diamond ice, sparkled in the sunset. We reached Philadelphia at half-past four, and had again to canter down Chestnut Street just as the folks were all coming from church, which caused no little staring, and turning of heads. My father asked —— to dine with us, but he refused. Mr. —— dined with us. After dinner, went in to pay my last visit to my poor sick friend. I sat with her until summoned to see some gentlemen in the drawing-room. It pained me to part from her; for though she exerted herself bravely, she was very much overcome. I fear she will miss me, poor thing; I had become very much attached to her. I went in to bid Mrs. —— good-by. —— was not gone to bed; I took her in my arms and kissed her, saying I should not see her for a long time again. The tears came into her baby eyes, and she said very sadly, "God bless you, Fanny." How curious a train of associations that word produced in me! It brought ——, and Lord ——, and that beautiful creature his child, before my very eyes. But her father had told little Lady —— to say that,—I am sure he did; now this little creature blessed me out of her own heart. A child's blessing is a holy thing. Came into the drawing-room. Found Dr. ——, young Mr. ——, and Mr. —— there. Presently, Mr. —— came in, with Baron ——, a man with a thick head, thick white hair, that stood out round it like a silver halo, and gold ear-rings. I sang to them till past ten o'clock, and then came to my own room, where I remained up packing and pottering until past two.
The river being yet open, thank Heaven, we arose at half-past four o'clock. Dressed sans dawdling for once, and came down.
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D—— and I were bundled into a coach, and rumbled and tumbled over the stones, through the blackness of darkness down to the steam-boat. —— was waiting for us, and convoyed us safely to the cabin, where I laid myself down, and slept till breakfast-time. My father, Captain ——, Mr. ——, and Baron ——, sat themselves down most comfortably to breakfast, leaving us entirely to the charge and care of ——, who fulfilled his trust with infinite zeal. 'Tis curious; there was a man on board whom I have now seen every time I have been going to or from New York to Philadelphia, whose appearance was in itself very remarkable, and the subsequent account I received of him perhaps increased the sort of impression it made upon me. He was a man of about from thirty to thirty-five, I guess, standing about five feet ten, with a great appearance of strength and activity. His face was that of a foreigner, the features were remarkably well cut, and the piercing black eyes, dark hair, and brown complexion, gave a Spanish character to his countenance. There was a sort of familiar would-be gentlemanly manner in his deportment and address, and a species of slang gentility in his carriage and conversation, that gave me a curiosity to ascertain what on earth he could be. After breakfast, walked up and down deck with ——. —— was on board. I am happy to hear he is thriving: I love all my fellow-passengers; and when I see one of them, my heart warms towards them, as to a bit of the dear old land left behind. After about an hour's steaming, we disembarked to cross the narrow neck of land which divides the Delaware from the Chesapeake. Here we got into a coach holding some twelve of us, to be conveyed over the rail-road by one of Stevenson's engines. Neither the road nor the conveyances are comparable to those of the Liverpool and Manchester rail-way; and instead of those luxurious roomy coaches, which form the merit of the Liverpool train, we were squeezy and uncomfortable to a degree. The country along this slip of land is flat and very uninteresting, clothed with threadbare young woods, whose thin spare skeletons, without their leafy mantles, looked excessively miserable. The distance from the Delaware to Frenchtown, on the Elk, where we were again to take water, is about sixteen miles, which we did in an hour. The first part of the road lies in Delaware, the latter in Maryland. The Elk, which in this world of huge waters is considered but a paltry ditch, but which in our country would be thought a very decent-sized river, was, a few days ago, frozen up, thereby putting a stop to the steam-boat travelling. But, fortunately for us, it was open to-day, and presently we beheld the steamer coming puffing up to take us from the pier. This boat—the Charles Carroll—is one of the finest they have. 'Tis neither so swift nor so large, I think, as some of the North river boats, but it is a beautiful vessel, roomy and comfortable in its arrangements. I went below for a few minutes, but found, as usual, the atmosphere of the cabin perfectly intolerable. The ladies' cabin, in winter, on board one of these large steamers, is a right curious sight. 'Tis generally crammed to suffocation with women, strewn in every direction. The greater number cuddle round a stove, the heat of which alone would make the atmosphere unbreathable. Others sit lazily in a species of rocking-chair,—which is found wherever Americans sit down,—cradling themselves backwards and forwards, with a lazy, lounging, sleepy air, that makes me long to make them get up and walk. Others again manage, even upon fresh water, to be very sick. There are generally a dozen young human beings, some naughty, sick, and squalling, others happy, romping, and riotous; and what with the vibratory motion of the rocking-chairs and their contents, the women's shrill jabber, the children's shriller wailing and shouting, the heat and closeness of the air, a ladies' cabin on board an American steam-boat is one of the most overpowering things to sense and soul that can well be imagined. There was a poor sick woman with three children, among our company, two of which were noisy unruly boys, of from eight to ten years old. One of them set up a howl as soon as he came on board, which he prolonged, to our utter dismay, for upwards of half an hour sans intermission, except to draw breath. I bore it as long as I could; but threats, entreaties, and bribes having been resorted to in vain, by all the women in the cabin, to silence him, I at length very composedly took him up in my arms, and deposited him on his back in one of the upper berths; whereupon his brother flew at his mother, kicking, thumping, screaming, and yelling. The cabin was in an uproar; the little wretch I held in my arms struggled like a young giant, and though I succeeded in lodging him upon the upper shelf, presently slid down from it like an eel. However, this effort had a salutary effect, for it obtained silence,—the crying gave way to terror, which produced silence, of which I availed myself to sleep till dinner-time. At dinner, —— and Mr. —— took charge of D—— and me, who, seeing that we were to get no dinner till six o'clock, thought fit to eat some lunch. The strange dark man was sitting opposite us, and discoursing away to his neighbours in a strain and tone in which shrewdness and swagger, and vulgarity and a sort of braggart gallantry, were curiously jumbled. From his conversation, it was evident that he was a seafaring man. He spoke of having been a midshipman on board an American frigate. The question they were debating was that of superstitious prejudice, involving belief in lucky and unlucky days, witches, ghosts, etc. The stranger professed perfect faith in all, and added sundry experiences of his own, at the same time observing, that with regard to sailors, the strong prejudice they have against sailing on certain days often creates the very ill luck they apprehend; for if any danger should occur, 'tis all attributed to evil influences against which they have no power, and they are at once deprived of half their energy in labour, and half their courage in peril. When dinner was over, I pointed out this strange man to my father, asking him if he had any idea who he was. "I am told," was his reply, "that he is but just returned from New York, where he has been tried for piracy." This accounted for every thing,—dare-devil look and language, seafaring adventures, and superstitious creed. It is a pleasant mode of travelling that throws one into contact with such company.
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Touching pirates, Baltimore, I was told (I know not how truly) is famous for them. They have small schooners there of a particularly light build, and raking masts, which are the prettiest craft in the world to look at, and the swiftest that sail sea. The Baltimore clippers are proverbial for their elegance and fleetness: they are like greyhounds on the water. These, I was told, were frequently owned by gentlemen of rather an ambiguous character, something between pirate, smuggler, and wrecker, perhaps a judicious compound of all three. Their trade is chiefly, I believe, with and about the West India islands. I looked at my Spanish-faced friend with redoubled curiosity: he was the very man for a pirate. We reached Baltimore at about half-past four. The Chesapeake bay, like the Delaware river, appeared to me admirable only as an immense sheet of water. At some parts that we passed, it was six, at others, ten, at others, thirteen miles across. The shores were flat and uninteresting on one side, but on the other occasionally very picturesque and beautiful, rising in red-looking cliffs from the water's edge, and crowned with beautiful green tufts of wood—cedar, I suppose, for nothing else is green at this time. The curvings of the shore, too, are very pretty; but, owing to the enormous width of the water, my imperfect vision could hardly discern the peculiar features of the land. The day was more lovely than a fine day in early September, in England,—bright, soft and sunny, with the blue in the sky of the delicate colour one sees in the Sèvres porcelain. As we entered the Patapsco, and neared Baltimore, North Point and Fort M'Henry were pointed out to me. My spirits always sink when I come to a strange place; and as we came along the wharf sides, under the red dingy-looking warehouses, between which the water ran in narrow dark-looking canals, I felt terribly gloomy. We drove up to Barnham's, the best house in the town; and, having found out where to lay my head, I had my fill of crying.[80] After dinner, went and lay down; slept profoundly till nine o'clock. On my return to the drawing-room, found —— there, and Mr. ——, the man who owns the Front Street theatre, but who it seems is only just out of gaol, and has neither actors nor scenes to get up a play withal. While he was here, came missives from the proprietors of the Holliday Street theatre, to inform my father that it was lighted up, and requesting him to come and look at it. This was awkward rather. When Mr. —— was gone, I came to my room, where I remained without a fire, cold without and disconsolate within, till past one o'clock. I did not know it was New-Year's eve; and so the waters carried me over this other dam without my looking back at what was past, or forward at what is to come: and why should I?—surely "the thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done, is that which shall be done; and there is no new thing under the sun:" sorrow and joy, hoping and fearing, pain and pleasure, laughing and weeping, striving and yielding,—they will all come again and again, and all things will be the same, till all things cease.
There it lies in its cradle! its pure forehead yet unstained by sin, unfurrowed by care; and not an hour shall have passed without the traces of both becoming visible. And where is the mother gone? where is the fulfilled year?—Gone sorrowing to join the crowd of ancestors, who witness each against me for the unthrift waste I have made of the rich legacies they one by one have bestowed on me. Oh, new-born year! ere half thy hours are spent, how often will my weary spirit have wished them fleeter wings than even those they wear! What secrets are there folded in thy breast,—what undreamt-of chances,—what strange befallings,—what unforeseen sorrows,—what unexpected joys! Perhaps, in the mysterious accomplishments with which thou art laden, my death may be numbered!—perhaps, ere thy course be duly run, the death of Time may be decreed! Oh! this life, and all things in it, remind me of the thin veils of spiders' webs which divided Desire from his aim, and which, though light and transparent, were so numerous, that to lift them all away was hopeless. After breakfast, began writing journal. 'Twas not until dating it that I discovered it was New-year's day. When I did so, and looked at my strange surroundings, at the gloomy wintry sky, and thought of the heathenish disregard with which I was passing over, in this far land, the season of home-gathering and congregating of kin in my own country, I could not refrain from crying bitterly. In spite of the pouring rain, and Mr. ——'s hints to keep us away, my father, who wished to ascertain the truth of the reports with regard to the state of his theatre, set forward thither with me. We found a very large handsome house, larger, I think, than the Park, but dirty, dilapidated, and looking as if there had been eleven executions in it that morning. No actors, scarcely any scenes,—in short, such a state of things as rendered it totally impossible for us to think of acting there. Came home; sat diligently crying the whole morning. The afternoon cleared up, and became soft and sunny. My father insisted on my taking a walk; so I bonneted and set out with him. What I saw of the town appeared to me extremely like the outskirts of Birmingham or Manchester. Bright-red brick houses, in rows of three and five, with interesting gaps of gravel-pits, patches of meadow, and open spaces between, which give it an untidy straggling appearance. They are building in every direction, however, and in less than two years, these little pauses being filled up, Baltimore will be a very considerable place; for it covers, in its present state, a large extent of ground, and contains a vast population. Immediately after dinner, our host made his entrée with a piano-forte. I had suggested to Mr. —— that I should be glad of one; and here it came. I had asked him to return in the evening, and was glad of the piano, for it helps the time away. At six o'clock, the managers of the Holliday Street theatre made their appearance; and my father stating that Mr. —— was literally unable to fulfil his engagement with us, entered into arrangements with them, during which I sat up at a tremendously high window, looking at the beautiful serious skies, and radiant moon, and listening to a tolerable band playing sundry of Rossini's airs. When these men had departed, —— came in. I sang and made him sing till tea-time. After that, he entertained us with a very long, but not very clear, account of the various processes of making, polishing, etc. steel, as practised in his manufactory. His account of their hard dealings with the poorer manufacturers was dreadful; and he himself spoke with horror of it, saying, "Oh, they are so miserably ground, poor wretches, they cannot be said to live,—they barely exist." When I remonstrated with him upon the wickedness of such proceedings, he replied, "We are compelled to do it in self-defence: if we did not use the same means as other manufacturers, we should presently be undersold." And this is the game playing all over England at this moment, in every department of her commerce and manufacture,—this cruel oppression of the poor, this forcing them by a league against them, as it were, to toil in bitterness for their scanty daily bread, while those who thus inhumanly depreciate their labour, and wring their hard earnings from their starving grasp, grow wealthy on their plunder. Are not these the things for which God has said he will avenge? Is his abomination of the false balance, and the stinted measure, and the unjust reckoning, less than in the days when he said he would visit the oppressor of the poor, and plead the cause of the widow and fatherless? Are not these the things that make a nation rotten at core, and ripe for decay? Are not these the things for which retribution is laid up, and fourfold restitution will be demanded?—'Tis awful to think of. From this the conversation grew to the means of obtaining interest upon money in this country, which the gentlemen discussed together for a length of time. I listened to them with many sad thoughts. How intent they seemed in their discourse, how much they appeared to value every slightest advantage of place or circumstance which enabled them to draw a greater profit from their capital; how eagerly, how earnestly, they seemed absorbed in these calculations. I do not know when I have been so forcibly struck with the worthlessness of money, and the strange delusion under which all men seem to be labouring, giving up their lives, as they do, to the hunting of wealth. Are these the cares that should engross the faculties of immortal souls, and rational thinking creatures? That we must live, I know, and that money is necessary to live, I know; but that our glorious capacities of soul, mind, and body, the fitting exercise of which alone, in itself, is happiness, should thus be chained down to the altar horns of Mammon, is what I never will believe wise, right, or fitting. I at length spoke, for my heart was burning within me, and burst into an eloquent lamentation on the folly and misery of which the world was guilty in following this base worship as it does. But when I said that I was convinced happiness might and did exist most blessedly upon half the means which men spent their lives in scraping together, my father laughed, and said I was the last person in the world who could live on little, or be content with the mediocrity I vaunted. I looked at my satin gown, and held my tongue, but still I was not convinced. We returned to our music till ten o'clock, when they had some supper, after which they drank a happy new year to England:—poor old England, God bless it! At about twelve o'clock, —— departed. Sat up a long time at the window, listening to some serenading, which, in the moonlight, sounded pleasantly enough.[81]
At about half-past ten, Mr. —— called for us, and we walked up to the cathedral, which is a large unfinished stone building, standing on the brow of a hill, which is to be the fashionable quarter of the town, and where there are already some very nice-looking houses. The interior of the church is large and handsome, and has more the look of a church than any thing I have been inside of in this country yet. 'Tis full eight years since I was in a Catholic church; and the sensation with which I approached the high altar, with its golden crucifix, its marble entablatures, and its glimmering starry lights, savoured fully as much of sadness as devotion. I have not been in a Catholic place of worship since I was at school. How well I remember the beautiful music of the military mass, the pageants and processions of the feast days at high mass, and the evening service, not vespers, but the Salut.[82] They sang that exquisitely mournful and beautiful Et incarnatus est, of Haydn's, which made my blood all run backwards. One thing disgusted me dreadfully, though the priests who were officiating never passed or approached the altar without bending the knee to it, they kept spitting all over the carpet that surrounded and covered the steps to it, interrupting themselves in the middle of the service to do so, without the slightest hesitation. We had a very indifferent sermon: the service was of course in Latin. When it was over, Mr. —— insisted on showing me some paintings which hung on either side the grand entrance. These were a couple of pictures by Paulin Guerin; the one representing the descent from the cross, the other, the burying of the dead, by St. Charles, in the Holy Land. I do not understand much about bad pictures, but I know good ones when I see them; and I think these were not such. There was no beauty of imagination or poetical conception whatever in them, and there appeared to me to be manifold glaring faults in the execution. I could have sworn to their being French pictures. Was introduced to several people, coming out of church. A little way beyond the cathedral stands Washington's monument,—a neat and appropriate pillar,—which, together with a smaller one erected at the head of our street, to the memory of the North Point heroes, has given Baltimore the appellation of the monumental city, which never could have befallen it in any other country under heaven but this. At eight o'clock, we went to Mrs. ——'s. They are all in deep mourning, and the circle was very small. They are most agreeable pleasant people, with a peculiar gentleness of manner, like very high breeding, which I have often observed in Catholics of the better orders. Their conversation appeared to me totally divested of the disagreeable accent which seems almost universal in this country. Mrs. —— talked to me about my aunt Whitelock, and what a charming actress she was, and what an enchanting thrilling voice she had. I spent a delightful evening. Before we went away, Mr. —— showed us a picture of Lady ——, by Lawrence. It looked quite refreshing, with its lovely dark curls unfrizzed, and the form of the neck and arms undisguised by the hideousness of modern fashions. Saw a very good likeness, too, of the Duke of ——. 'Twas very like him, though many years younger.
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By the by, somebody said that —— had turned Roman Catholic, and very devout. Some of the Marys and Magdalens of the old Italian painters are very converting pictures, with their tearful melancholy eyes, and golden, glorious, billowy hair. Mrs. —— amused me very much by her account of the slaves on their estates, whom, she said, she found the best and most faithful servants in the world. Being born upon the land, there exists among them something of the old spirit of clanship, and "our house," "our family," are the terms by which they designate their owners. In the south, there are no servants but blacks; for the greater proportion of domestics being slaves, all species of servitude whatever is looked upon as a degradation; and the slaves themselves entertain the very highest contempt for white servants, whom they designate as "poor white trash."
Young —— called, and stayed about an hour with us. At half-past five, took coffee, and off to the theatre. The play was Romeo and Juliet; the house was extremely full: they are a delightful audience. My Romeo had gotten on a pair of trunk breeches, that looked as if he had borrowed them from some worthy Dutchman of a hundred years ago. Had he worn them in New York, I could have understood it as a compliment to the ancestry of that good city; but here, to adopt such a costume in Romeo, was really perfectly unaccountable. They were of a most unhappy choice of colours, too,—dull, heavy-looking blue cloth, and offensive crimson satin, all be-puckered, and be-plaited, and be-puffed, till the young man looked like a magical figure growing out of a monstrous strange coloured-melon, beneath which descended his unfortunate legs, thrust into a pair of red slippers, for all the world like Grimaldi's legs en costume for clown. The play went off pretty smoothly, except that they broke one man's collar-bone, and nearly dislocated a woman's shoulder by flinging the scenery about. My bed was not made in time, and when the scene drew, half a dozen carpenters in patched trowsers and tattered shirt-sleeves were discovered smoothing down my pillows, and adjusting my draperies. The last scene is too good not to be given verbatim:—
Romeo. Rise, rise, my Juliet,
And from this cave of death, this house of horror,
Quick let me snatch thee to thy Romeo's arms.
Here he pounced upon me, plucked me up in his arms like an uncomfortable bundle, and staggered down the stage with me.
Juliet. (aside.) Oh, you've got me up horridly!—that'll never do; let me down, pray let me down.
Romeo. There, breathe a vital spirit on thy lips,
And call thee back, my soul, to life and love!Juliet. (aside.) Pray put me down; you'll certainly throw me down if you don't set me on the ground directly.
In the midst of "cruel cursed fate," his dagger fell out of his dress; I, embracing him tenderly, crammed it back again, because I knew I should want it at the end.
Romeo. Tear not our heart-strings thus!
They crack! they break!—Juliet! Juliet! (dies.)Juliet. (to corpse.) Am I smothering you?
Corpse. (to Juliet.) Not at all; could you be so kind, do you think, as to put my wig on again for me?—it has fallen off.
Juliet. (to corpse.) I'm afraid I can't, but I'll throw my muslin veil over it. You've broken the phial, haven't you?
(Corpse nodded.)
Juliet. (to corpse.) Where's your dagger?
Corpse. (to Juliet.) 'Pon my soul, I don't know.
By half-past ten we were packed in what in this country is termed an exclusive extra, i. e. a stage-coach to ourselves, and progressing towards Washington. The coach was comfortable enough, and the country, for the first twelve or fifteen miles, owing to the abominable account I had heard of it from every body, disappointed me rather agreeably. It was by no means so dreary or desolate as I had been led to expect. There was considerable variety in its outline, and the quantity of cedar thickets scattered over it took away from the comfortless threadbare look of the wintry woods. Threadbare, indeed, the trees can scarce be called; for the leaves of the black oak, instead of falling as they fade, remain upon the branches, and give the trees more the effect of being lightning-struck, or accidentally blasted, than withered by the fair course of the seasons. I think the effect is more disagreeable than that of absolutely bare leafless boughs. When near, the trees look singularly deplorable and untidy, although at the distance, the red-brown of the faded oaks mingling with the bright, vivid, green cedars, and here and there a silver-barked buttonwood tree raising its white delicate branches from among them, produce a very agreeable and harmonious blending to the eye. The soil, the banks by the road-side, and broken ridges of ravines, and water-courses, attracted my attention by the variety and vividness of their colours; the brightest red and yellow, and then again pale green, and rich warm gravel-colour. I wished I had been a geologist. How much pleasure of reflection and contemplation is lost to the ignorant, whose outward sense wanders over the objects that surround it, deriving from them but half the delight that they give the wise and well-informed; even fancy is at fault, for fancy itself scarce devises images more strange, and beautiful, and wonderful, than the reality of things presents to those who understand their properties and natures. The waters were all fast frozen up, and one or two little pools, all curdled with ice, and locked up in deep gravelly basins, looked like onyx stones set in gold. As for the road, we had been assured it was exceedingly good; but mercy on us! I can't think of it without aching. Here we went up, up, up, and there we went down, down, down,—now, I was in my father's lap, and now I was half out of window. The utter impossibility of holding one's self in any one position for two minutes is absolutely ridiculous. Sometimes we laughed, and at other times we groaned, at our helpless and hopeless condition; but at last we arrived, with no bones broken, at about three o'clock, at the capital and seat of government of the United States.[83] Upon the height immediately above the city is situated the Capitol, a very handsome building, of which the Americans are not a little proud; but it seems placed there by mistake, so little do the miserable untidy hovels above, and the scattered unfinished red-brick town below, accord with its patrician marble and high-sounding title. We drove to Gadsby's, which is an inn like a little town, with more wooden galleries, flights of steps, passages, door-ways, exits, and entrances, than any building I ever saw: it reminded me of the house in Tieck's Love-charm. We had not been arrived a quarter of an hour, when in walked Mr. —— and Captain ——, and presently Mr. ——. They sat for some time discussing, laughing, quizzing, and being funny, and then departed. Captain —— was telling us a story about a man somewhere up in the lost lands, who was called Philemon, and whose three sons were paganed (christened, I suppose, one can't say,) Romulus, Remus, and Tiberius. I thought this was too good to be true; and D—— and I, laughing over it at dinner, agreed that we wished any thing of the sort had happened to us. "Some bread, waiter: what is your name?" said I to the black who was waiting upon us. "Horatius!" was the reply; which sent me and D—— into fits.
When I came in to breakfast, found Mr. ——, whom I like mainly. While he was here, Dr. —— and —— came in. I gave the latter a most tremendous grasp of the hand: it was like seeing a bit of England to see him. He said to me, "Oh, how strange it is to see you here;" which caused my eyes to fill with tears, for, Heaven knows, it feels strange enough. They had hardly been seated two minutes, when in rushed a boy to call us to rehearsal. I was as vexed as might be. They all departed; —— faithfully promising to come again, and have a long talk about the old country: we then set forth to rehearsal. The theatre is the tiniest little box that ever was seen,—not much bigger, I verily think, than the baby's play-house at Versailles. When I came to perceive who the company were, and that sundry of our Baltimore comrades were come on hither, I begged to be excused from rehearsing, as they had all done their parts but a few days before with me. At about two o'clock, Mr. —— came to take us to the Capitol. Mr. —— was in the drawing-room. He had just seen the President; and it seems, that far from coming to any accommodation with the South Carolinians, there is an immediate probability of their coming to blows. They say, the old General is longing for a fight; and, most assuredly, to fight would be better, in this instance, than to give in; for to yield would be virtually to admit the right of every individual state to dictate to the whole government. We walked up to the Capitol: the day was most beautifully bright and sunny, and the mass of white building, with its terraces and columns, stood out in fine relief against the cloudless blue sky. We went first into the senate, or upper house, because Webster was speaking, whom I especially wished to hear. The room itself is neither large nor lofty; the senators sit in two semi-circular rows, turned towards the President, in comfortable arm-chairs. On the same ground, and literally sitting among the senators, were a whole regiment of ladies, whispering, talking, laughing, and fidgeting. A gallery, level with the floor, and only divided by a low partition from the main room, ran round the apartment: this, too, was filled with pink, and blue, and yellow bonnets; and every now and then, while the business of the house was going on, and Webster speaking, a tremendous bustle, and waving of feathers, and rustling of silks, would be heard, and in came streaming a reinforcement of political beauties, and then would commence a jumping up, a sitting down, a squeezing through, and a how-d'-ye-doing, and a shaking of hands. The senators would turn round; even Webster would hesitate, as if bothered by the row, and, in short, the whole thing was more irregular, and unbusiness-like, than any one could have imagined.[84] Webster's face is very remarkable, particularly the forehead and eyes. The former projects singularly, absolutely overhanging the latter, which have a very melancholy, and occasionally rather wild, expression. The subject upon which he was speaking was not one of particular interest,—an estimate of the amount of French spoliations, by cruizers and privateers, upon the American commerce. The heat of the room was intolerable; and after sitting till I was nearly suffocated, we adjourned to the House of Representatives. On our way thither, we crossed a very beautiful circular vestibule, which holds the centre of the building. It was adorned with sundry memorable passages in American history, done into pictures by Colonel Trumbull. In the House of Representatives we were told we should hear nothing of interest, so turned off, under Mr. ——'s escort, to the Library, which is a comfortable well-sized room, where we looked over Audubon's Ornithology, a beautiful work, and saw a man sitting, with his feet upon the table, reading, which is an American fashion. Met half the New York world there. After we had stayed there some time, we went into the House of Representatives. The room itself is lofty and large, and very handsome, but extremely ill-constructed for the voice, which is completely lost among the columns, and only reaches the gallery, where listeners are admitted, in indistinct and very unedifying murmurs. The members not unfrequently sit with their feet upon their desks. We walked out upon the terrace, and looked at the view of the Potomac, and the town, which, in spite of the enlivening effect of an almost summer's sky, looked dreary and desolate in the extreme. We then returned home. At half-past five, we went to the theatre. We were a long time before we could discover, among the intricate dark little passages, our own private entrance, and were as nearly as possible being carried into the pit by a sudden rush of spectators making their way thither: I wish we had been; I think I should like to have seen myself very much. The theatre is absolutely like a doll's play-house: it was completely crammed with people. I played ill; I cannot act tragedy within half a yard of the people in the boxes. By the by, a theatre may very easily be too small for tragedies which is admirably adapted to comedies. In the latter species of dramatic representations, the incidents, characters, manners, and dresses, are, for the most part, modern,—such as we meet with, or can easily imagine, in our own drawing-rooms, and among our own society. There is little if any exaggeration of colouring necessary, and no great exertion of fancy needful either in the actor or audience in executing and witnessing such a performance. On the contrary, comedy,—high comedy,—generally embodying the manners, tone, and spirit of the higher classes of society, the smaller the space, consistent with ease and grace of carriage, in which such personifications take place, the less danger there is of the actor's departing from that natural, quiet, and refined deportment and delivery, which are, in the present day, the general characteristics of polished society. 'Tis otherwise with tragic representations. They are unnatural, not positively, but comparatively unnatural; the incidents are, for the most part, strange, startling, unusual; and though they always must be within possibility, in order to excite the sympathies of beholders,—though some of them may even be historical facts,—yet they are, for the most part, events which come within the probabilities of few of us, and this renders necessary a degree of excitement and elevation in the mind of the spectator, foreign to, and at variance with, the critical spirit of prosaic reality. Again, the scene of a comedy is generally a drawing-room; and the smaller the stage, the greater is the possibility of rendering it absolutely like what we all have seen, and are daily in the habit of seeing; but to represent groves and mountains, or lakes, or the dwellings of the kings of the earth, satisfactorily to the spectator's mind, there must be a certain distance observed, from which the fancy may take its stand for the best perception of what is intended. Whereas, in closer contact with such scenes, not only does their immediate proximity convey an unpleasing consciousness of the unreality of the whole, but the near and absolute detail of paint, canvass, and gilding, is obtruded in a manner that destroys all illusion, and, by disturbing the effect of the whole upon the spectator, necessarily weakens that part which depends solely upon the actor. The same thing applies to dress. Foil-stone, paste, and coloured glass, by French ingenuity have been manufactured into toys, which, with the help of distance, may be admitted as representing the splendours of Eastern costume, or even the glittering trappings of those gaudy little superhumans, the fairies. But nearness utterly dissolves the spell, and these substitutes for magnificence become palpable impositions, and very often most ludicrous ones. I have often been accused of studying my attitudes; but the truth is, that most things that are presented to my imagination, instead of being mere abstractions, immediately assume form and colour, and become pictures; these I constantly execute on the stage as I had previously seen them in my fancy: but as few pictures as large as life admit of being seen to best effect immediately close to the spectator, so the whole effect produced by a graceful attitude, fine colours, or skilful grouping on the stage, is considerably diminished when the space is restricted, and the audience brought too near the performers. So much for little theatres. —— came in after the play. He told us that as he was coming out of the theatre, a Kentuckian accosted him with, "Well, what do you think of that 'ere gal?"—"Oh," hesitatingly replied ——, "I don't quite know."—"Well," retorted the questioner, "any how, I guess she's o' some account!"
At eleven o'clock, Mr. —— called. Went with him to see the original of the Declaration of Independence, also a few medals, for the most part modern ones, and neither of much beauty or curiosity. Afterwards went to the War-Office, where we saw sundry Indian properties,—bows and arrows, canoes, smoking-pipes, and, what interested me much more, the pictures of a great many savage chiefs, and one or two Indian women. The latter were rather pretty: the men were not any of them handsome; scorn round the mouth, and cunning in the eyes, seemed to be the general characteristic of all their faces. There was a portrait of Red Jacket, which gave me a most unpoetical low-life impression of that great palaverer. The names of many of them delighted me,—as, the Ever-awake; the Man that stands and strikes; the North Wind. One of the women's names amused me a great deal,—the Woman that spoke first; which title occasioned infinite surmise among us as to the occasion on which she earned it. After we had done seeing what was to be seen, we went on to the President's house, which is a comfortless handsome-looking building, with a withered grass-plot enclosed in wooden palings in front, and a desolate reach of uncultivated ground down to the river behind. Mr. —— gave us a most entertaining account of the levees, or rather public days, at the President's house. Every human being has a right to present himself there; the consequence is, that great numbers of the very commonest sort of people used to rush in, and follow about the servants who carried refreshments, seizing upon whatever they could get, and staring and pushing about, to the infinite discomfiture of the more respectable and better-behaved part of the assembly. Indeed, the nuisance became so great, that they discontinued the eatables, and in great measure got rid of the crowd. Mr. —— assured me that on one of these occasions, two ladies had themselves lifted up and seated on the chimney-piece, in order to have a better view of the select congregation beneath them. Mr. —— left us to go to the Capitol, and we came home. ——, Mr. ——, and Captain —— called. We sat discussing names; which, in this country, are certainly more ambitious than in any other in the world.[85] Besides Captain ——'s classical family, Mr. —— assured us that he knew of a man whose name was Return Jonathan Meigs; and —— swore to one in New York called Alonzo Leontes Agamemnon Beaugardus. I have myself seen a Harmanus Boggs, Aquila Jones, and Alpheus Brett; but I have not been favoured with an acquaintance with any such names as they quoted. —— appears to me altered since I saw him in England. He was always silent, and quiet, and gentle; but there was an air of complacency and contented cheerfulness about him, which I think he has very much lost: he looks sad and careworn. I was sorry to see it. After dinner, sat writing journal. Mr. —— came in and sat some time with us. He is very clever and agreeable, and I like him greatly.
After breakfast, went to rehearsal. At half past twelve, Mr. —— came to ride with me. The horse he had gotten for me was base; but never mind, the day was exquisitely mild and bright,—the sort of early spring-feeling day, when in England the bright gold and pale delicate violet of the crocus buds begin to break the rich dark mould, and the fragrant gummy leaves of the lilac bushes open their soft brown folds. We had a very pleasant ride through some pretty woodlands on the opposite side of the river. At half-past five, went to the theatre. The play was the Hunchback: the house was crowded. In the last scene, Master Walter upbraided me thus:—