In a country like ours, it is time that some of the old maxims of feudal societies should be done away. The horror of being thought poor and dependent, the dread of being confounded with inferiors, the contempt visited upon the necessity of labour, the scornful reference to certain trades and occupations which infects even our literature, should give place to higher maxims. Make any occupation contemptible, and you take the most direct way to make those engaged in it reckless and vicious. Does not observation verify the remark? Those incognito female working establishments-so to call them-which are known in some of our cities, are a libel on virtuous industry. I do not so much blame those who desire to spread around them this shield against the absurd maxims of society. The wrong lies in that spirit of society which creates such establishments. They stand in a civilized and Christian country, like the guarded old feudal castles-relics of barbarism. It is a curious illustration of the absurd perversions of sentiment, which feudal distinctions have wrought in the world, that idleness -the not being obliged to labour, or study, or to do any useful thing on earth-should have been held to be the most honourable of all positions in society. Nay, the very dependents and menials of some lordly idler have sometimes, by reflected honour, taken precedence of the most honourable and learned professions. Mr. Edgeworth, in his Letters on the Choice of a Profession, argues against that of a clergyman in England, on account of its frequent want of respectability. And by way of illustration, he relates the anecdote of a curate, who was so elated at possessing the acquaintance, not of the lord of a neighbouring castle, but of his butler, that he observed, concerning that distinguished personage (the butler), "that he was so familiar with him, that he could say anything to him."

But for the correction of all errors, and the remedy of all evils incident to our situation, our chief resort must be to the principles of the Christian religion. Our situation is thus far fortunate, that it urges these principles upon us, as it never urged them upon any other people. The relations of society with us are brought down to the bare and simple character of a connexion between man and man. Heart to heart we are brought; and there is not a star, or a badge, or a strip of livery on any man's bosom, to teach deference to one, or to entitle another to the tone of authority. The privileges of rank, the instinct of discipline, the bonds of necessity, are all broken and abrogated. All artificial barriers are removed; the leading strings which have served for the guidance of past times, are completely taken away; and we are placed in the open and unobstructed field of equal rights and fair relations. What now can stand us in stead of all that has controlled and coerced the manners and actions of men hitherto, but the laws of rectitude, kindness, and forbearance-the laws of Christian self-respect, and Christian mutual respect? The basis of theoretical equality on which we stand, is really the ground of Christianity. Will not our privileges, as a people, teach us our duties?

It is only under this influence, that the relation of man to man, and the relation of the whole body to each individual, can be safe and happy. A poor man with this spirit, would say, "I am willing to perform a stipulated service for my rich neighbour; I feel no degradation in the employment; it is my mind only, not my employment, that can degrade

me; it is envy, or jealousy, not labour, that is degrading; I respect myself, my soul, my hope, too much to be contending about comparative trifles; nay, according to the Christian law, I love my neighbour too much, and I hold my fellow Christian in too much honour, to think of any injury or indignity to him; let him be honoured according to his merits; let him be prospered according to the good pleasure of God: I am thankful for his welfare: I am happy in my own." What a loftyminded labourer were that! He might walk behind the plough; but the conqueror in his triumphal procession never walked in a path more glorious. Let the rich man reciprocate that noble feeling, assuming nothing unbecoming the relation of one Christian man to another, thankful for his prosperity, and humble, not proud, under it; and what a state of society would this be! What manners, what graces, both of character and behaviour, would spring from it!

And then, again, as to the influence which the whole body of the people the mighty majority-possesses over the welfare of each individual-it needs to be subjected to the same control. Public opinion in America is a power fearful to contemplate. There is no aristocracy with us, no throne that is above it. It must be considerate, liberal, and candid, or it will inflict extreme misery and injustice. We have escaped in America from the despotism of the one, and the few; it remains to be seen, whether we shall escape the despotism of the many. Nay, at this moment, and with all our boasts of liberty, there is less private and social freedom in America, than there is in Europe! In some respects this is well; but surely not in all respects. The sovereignty of the many, the sovereignty of public opinion, may become as oppressive and vexatious as ever was the jealousy of arbitrary power. It may beat down all manly independence, all individual freedom-and especially in those who seek for office, or are ambitious to stand well with society; it may make slaves of us as effectually, as any tyranny that ever existed. It may make us a mean, tame, time-serving people, who shall not dare to do anything, even in trifles, that is contrary to the popular will. I confess, that in this view, I look with considerable apprehension upon those great associations, which, however good their end, create a public opinion about their objects, that renders it hazardous to any man's reputation, to dissent from them. I fear that under

this influence, charity, and all the virtues, will be liable to lose something of their manliness, freedom, and beauty; that they may become, to some extent, hollow-hearted, and false-that charity may be promoted at the expense of real generosity, and temperance at the expense of sincerity, and much seeming good at the expense of much secret evil.

Here, then, we want firm and liberal Christian principle, to withstand these dangerous tendencies. We want it to enable some to set themselves firmly, whether in politics or religion, against the popular will. Yes, we want men who will sacrifice themselves-who will be martyrsrather than sacrifice their own free and single-minded judgment. I might hold such a man to be wrong in his opinion; but unless he were very wrong indeed, I should set off his independence, in the account of social influences, as more than a balance for his error. Error can be corrected; but mental slavery seals and locks up the very fountain of truth. We want newspapers that shall dare to be true to individual conviction. And would that there were such a thing as an independent

party in politics-that useless, worthless, powerless, contemptible thing, as the mere politician would regard it-yet it would do a good that the politician does not think of. It would set an example worth a thousand party triumphs. And I fancy, too, that it would act as a balance wheel, to control the violence of party movements. The old Roman virtue consisted in the devotion, the sacrifice of the individual to the state. The redeeming virtue of modern liberty must consist in the devotion, and if need be, the sacrifice of the individual to TRUTH! And let me add, that the supreme danger to apprehend, is that of losing all mental and moral independence!

CHAPTER XXVII.

JOURNEY TO LIVERPOOL-SENSITIVENESS OF AMERICANS TO PUBLIC OPINION ABROAD FAREWELL TO ENGLAND-PASSAGE TO AMERICA.

BIRMINGHAM, April 12.-From London to Birmingham I have ridden through a country clothed with living verdure. And yet England is several degrees north of any part of the United States; and this is April. The verdure now is of one deep hue. It is very different in Summer. When I came to Liverpool last year, I was struck with the light green of the fields on the banks of the Mersey. It may have been caused by recent mowing. What attracted my attention afterward, in travelling through England, was the variety of shades upon the landscape. I presume that this arises from the greater variety of grasses, grain, and herbs, cultivated; and also from a more perfect cultivation, that gives to the scythe and the sickle more frequent crops. The country wears every livery of green, from the darkest to the lightest, through the whole Summer. Oh! those rich glades; those noble groves and clumps of trees on every hillside; those cliffs, with their soft screening of ivy; those velvet lawns, with many a sunny nook and shaded avenue, sweet enough to draw the footsteps of the fairies; those embowered cottages; those glorious parks; those magnificent castles-shall I not shall I never see them again?

The lowest class of operatives in Birmingham and Manchester is said to be the most desperate and dangerous population in England; and I was very desirous to see a specimen of it. So I said to a gentleman here one day, "I want to see something of this horrid population in Birmingham, that I hear so much about. Pray, take me, now, to the worst part of your city." He paused in his walk and looked at me, as if he did not at all comprehend my meaning. "Why, you know," said I, "these desperate operatives-these people that are sunk so low, as I am told, in poverty and misery. Mr. -and Mr. -, spoke of them as if they were wild animals, that, if uncaged, would break forth, and devour, and destroy, on every side; and would be almost justified in doing so." The gentleman looked at me with a surprise that would have been displeasure, I think, but for his politeness. "Indeed he knew of no such people in Birmingham. He could take me to no such place. -There," he said, pointing down a lane that was swarming with women and children, ill clad aud dirty enough to merit a pretty strong description" there are people as poor and miserable as any, perhaps, in Bir

They,

mingham, but they are neither desperate nor dangerous." perhaps, if consulted, would have told another story! Heaven forbid

that events should!

But it is curious, though natural, this habit of seeing things connected with ourselves, under aspects so widely different from those which present themselves to a stranger, or a distant observer. It really requires an effort of philosophical abstraction, to break that spell of association by which we make ourselves responsible, in a sort, for everything that belongs to our country or our town, to our class, sect, or coterie. For this reason, the unprejudiced stranger, or traveller, is, in the proportion of his knowledge, likely to be nearer right than the people of the country which he describes.

But it is a poor rule that will not work both ways; and there is no doubt that we might well take home this observation to ourselves in America. The Trollopes, Halls, and Hamiltons, have certainly told us many truths; by which, it may be hoped, that our manners, at least, will be mended. Nations have habits like individuals; they have eccentricities, which propagate themselves by the mere force of habit and custom, without any original reason. I am sure I know of nothing in our climate, or constitution, that accounts for that abomination, called spitting; many among us are as free from it as any other people. That we are somewhat given to talking of invoices and prices, has, indeed, an intelligible cause; it "cometh of the multitude of business;" and the fearful rapidity with which we eat our dinners, especially in public places, proceeds, perhaps, from the same cause. We are a business people, in a sense which does not, and never did appertain to any other people. Every man with us has a stake in what is going on around him. This must, of course, give a turn to general conversation, and produce an effect on the general manners and character. It may do evil in some respects; but it is certainly the spring of many energies. If you put a man's fortunes into his own hands, you put a life into him, which, though it may do harm to his manners or his morals, is certainly better for a country than to have one large class in it, above the cares of business, and another and larger class, like the operatives of Birmingham, sunk far enough beneath its profits. Better, I say-better, that is, for the development of the energies of a whole people-better for the promotion of ultimate general happiness, and I believe of virtue, too, I believe it, and yet the universal competition and success of business in America, expose us to many dangers which are certainly to be regarded with a serious eye. I could wish that the strictures of our foreign brethren, on all these points, could have come to us with something less of extravagance, that they might have done us more good; that they might have wounded less, and worked more kindly for our improvement. But thus it is, that imperfect beings must help one another, through much imperfection. Minds are flung into the fermenting mass of public opinion, to struggle together, and to strike many a rash and passionate blow; but out of error shall come truth, out of conflicting prejudices pure reason, out of darkness and confusion, light and order.

Our national sensitiveness under such blows, deserves, perhaps, more consideration than it has received. Our situation has been peculiar. No other nation has had its temper put to the same trial. Our country has been a sort of terra incognita to the civilized world. The new

forms of society and of political constitution in America, have been the subject of the keenest foreign scrutiny. We have been obliged to be passive in the case-placed upon the table, with half a dozen surgical operators around us, who amuse themselves with our wincing. Quite surprised they are that we feel the knife so much; and the irritation of the patient they count a very good joke. Let them take our place, and they might find the difference between operating, and being operated upon. The truth is, there has been no fair exchange of blows. We read everything that is written about us; we pay that compliment to foreign criticism, and to the literature of older nations. But our productions do not obtain the same currency with them. Nor have we the same number of needy and idle gentlemen to go abroad, with an intention to pay their expenses, and put money in their pockets, by writing an entertaining story, or a clever satire upon the people they visit. Besides, is there no sensitiveness in England or France to foreign opinion? Half of the wars between those nations, have found more than half of the original prompting and long continued exasperation in the irritation occasioned by their mutual contempt. And yet they are nations standing in no peculiar position before the world, possessing a known character and established reputation, and feeling themselves entitled to return, with immediate reaction, blow for blow, and scorn for

scorn.

Our situation has been different. We were a new people, under novel circumstances, rising to take our place in the society of nations. We did not know exactly how we were to be received by the old families around us. America, though she knew that her children were essentially well-instructed and well-bred, yet felt, that they were not, perhaps, so well trained to the conventionalism and bienseance of the beau monde, and she did not like it, that Mr. John Bull-a haughty, and self-sufficient old gentleman, on the opposite shore-or that dowager old lady across the Straits of Dover, should stare superciliously, or toss the head disdainfully, when they passed by her.

Nor is this all. We are warmly attached to our political system. We have a sentiment of loyalty about it. The constitution is our king. And I hold this warm sentiment towards a mere abstraction that can confer no titles nor pensions upon us, to be quite as respectable as loyalty to a king; even without supposing what a clever English writer fancies to be true-viz. that the love of the king is only a sort of reflected self-love: being, he says, an intense pleasure in seeing a being just like themselves, clothed with such majesty the very apotheosis of poor, common-place humanity. At any rate, I think we have a right to claim some consideration for this feeling about our political system. And it is precisely this that is both directly and indirectly attacked by our critics abroad. It is this especially that we defend, when we resist the assaults that are made upon our national character. And we think that we are bound to defend it, if anybody is; and that for higher reasons than those which concern our national reputation. We believe that it is a good system: and we, too, have set in modern times, the first example of adopting it. It is the very post, in fact, around which the war of public opinion is to rage, for a century to come; and ill would it become us to shrink from our part in the contest. Heaven grant that we may do something better than