CHAPTER XIII.

THE VALLEY OF THE OHIO—MUCH OF THE UNITED STATES WILL PRODUCE

WINE—ILLINOIS AT NIGHT—FIRST VIEW OF LAKE MICHIGAN—CHICAGO—A SIGN OF

OUTWARD RELIGION—‘SMALL-POX HERE’—FIRE ALARM—LIBERALITY OF CHICAGO

MERCHANTS—THE DOLLAR NOT ALL IN ALL—A CHURCH LIGHTED FROM THE ROOF—A

HANDSOME AMERICAN—AMERICA HAS DEVELOPED A NEW TYPE OF FEATURES—CHICAGO

SCHOOLS—AN EXCEPTION TO THE AMERICAN WAY OF DENOUNCING THE OFFICIAL

CLASS—CHICAGO SUNDAY SCHOOLS—PROGRAMME OF ONE I ATTENDED—EXCELLENCE

OF WATER AT CHICAGO—HOW SUPPLIED—LIFTING UP THE CITY—POST OFFICE

ARRANGEMENTS—A DISADVANTAGE OF FREQUENT CHANGE OF CLERKS—AMERICANS ON

ARISTOCRACY—HOW THE GERMANS, THE MASSES OF THE PEOPLE, AND THE UPPER

CLASS FEEL TOWARDS IT.

The valley of the Ohio pleased me—all things considered—more than any

other district I saw in the United States. The land was generally very

fertile, and much diversified with riverside levels and contiguous

hills; with cultivated land, and woodland; with apple and peach

orchards, and with wheat and maize. Its most novel feature was the

space devoted to the culture of the vine.

[Sidenote: _Lake Michigan._]

In many parts of the Union, as in this State, California, and several

others, a great deal of wine is already made; and the planting of

vineyards is yearly extending. I tasted two wines, sparkling Catawba,

and a red Californian wine, which are really good now, and which no

doubt in course of time will become still better. The former was a

little too sweet; but that is a fault, if it be regarded as a fault

in America, which can easily be remedied by carrying the process of

fermentation a little further. There is every prospect of a larger

proportion of America, than of Europe, producing wine; in that case

the same proportion of its inhabitants will become a wine, and not a

beer, or spirit-drinking population. In Europe we attribute certain

differences of national character to this difference in the beverage of

a people. It appears as if, in this highly-favoured region, upon which

Nature has heaped all her gifts, that nothing in the way of climate,

occupation, or even food, which can diversify life and character, will

be wanting. America will contain within herself all that other people,

less bountifully provided, have to seek all over the world.

On passing through almost any part of Illinois after sunset, there are

so many lights seen in every direction, glancing from the innumerable

farm houses, that I could hardly help thinking, at one time, that the

train was entering a large town, while at another, I was reminded of

the gleaming on all sides from the shutterless windows of a scattered

English village, during the first hour or two of darkness. And this is

the way in which all these fertile North-western States are filling up.

On arriving at Chicago, my first thought was to see the Lake, one of

the great fresh-water seas I had been reading of, since I was a boy. I

was now within a few paces of it, and was only prevented by the houses

from looking upon it. I had driven to the Sherman House, a large hotel

on one side of the square in the centre of which stands the City Hall;

and I had been told that the only good view of the city, and of the

Lake, was to be had from the gallery round the top of the dome of

this building. It was not long before I ascended the stairs that led

to it; and as I stepped out on the balcony, the boundless blue water,

reflecting the undimmed hazeless sky, and washing up almost to the

foot of the building, and stretching away beyond the horizon, suddenly

burst on the view. It was Lake Michigan. Imagination does much on such

occasions. I felt satisfied. It was not only worth seeing, but it was

worth coming to see.

Here, in these vast reservoirs, is Nature carrying on some of her

hydraulic operations upon the grandest scale in the world. Here, too,

at this very spot, at its southern point, the countless buffalo used

to drink the water of the Lake, and here it was that the red man

was waiting to welcome him; and now the white man is ploughing, and

harvesting, and building cities all around its shores, and its waters

are wafting to this great central depôt the produce of his labours, and

then bearing it away again, to feed the millions of New England and of

the distant seaboard cities, and even to aid the deficient supplies of

Old England and France.

[Sidenote: _Evidence of Outward Religion._]

Chicago well deserves its reputation. Its stores, and private houses

and churches, are good, and would be so considered in any city. Its

stores are in buildings, two floors higher than the shops of Oxford

or Regent Street, as is generally the case in all the large American

cities. They have an air of solidity, and are not entirely devoid of

external decoration. There are suburbs containing many good private

residences, the best of which are to be seen in Michigan Avenue, along

the shores of the Lake. These are built of a cream-coloured stone, and

many of them give one a favourable idea of the architectural taste,

as well as of the wealth, of their inhabitants. From the gallery of

the City Hall I counted twenty-three towers and spires; but this is

very far from giving the number of churches, as perhaps the majority

of them still being incomplete, or only temporary structures, are

without these embellishments. In the central parts of the city, where

all the buildings are good and massive, and the smoke—for here they

burn bituminous coal—has put a complexion upon them something like that

of London, you could never guess that you were standing in a city so

young, that many of its inhabitants, still young themselves, remember

the erection of the first brick house in the place; you would be

more likely to suppose that you were surrounded by the evidences and

appliances of the commercial prosperity of many generations.

On my mentioning to a ‘citizen’ of Chicago the number of the churches I

had counted from the top of the City Hall, ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘we are a

religious people outwardly.’

In this, one of the youngest cities in the world, I observed some

regulations that would be worthy of adoption elsewhere. For instance,

wherever in the city a case of small-pox occurs, a large yellow sheet

is pasted to the door of the house, announcing in conspicuous letters,

‘Small-pox here.’ I could not but compare this wise regulation with

our carelessness on the same subject at home. This very disease of

small-pox, or scarlet fever, or any other infectious disease, may have

struck down many of the inmates of a house; yet, according to our

custom, it is allowable for the occupiers of the house, if they keep

a shop, to invite customers to enter, and to sell them articles of

dress, or of food, which in some way or other may become vehicles of

infection.

Another very useful arrangement I found in operation here, is that

by which the whole city is instantly informed of the existence of a

fire, and of the locality in which it has burst out. The city is, for

this purpose, divided into districts, each district being known by

its number. In some central and conspicuous place in each, is a box

containing an apparatus by which a bell may be rung in a room at the

City Hall. In this room there are men constantly watching the bells.

As soon as the bell of any district is rung, the watchers reply with

a hurried kind of chime on the large bell of the City Hall, which can

be heard in every part of the city. This is to announce that there is

a fire. There is then a pause of half a minute, after which the number

of the district is struck on the bell. This informs everyone of the

exact locality of the fire. The policeman on duty in each district is

the person whose business it is to go to the box and ring the bell.

In order, however, to save time, it is competent for any respectable

citizen to do this; for the place where the key of the box is kept is

always mentioned on the outside of the box, and the keeper of the key

is ordered to give it up to any respectable applicant. I was surprised

to find how often during the night announcements of fire were made from

the City Hall.

[Sidenote: _The Dollar not all in all._]

A few days before my arrival at Chicago there had been, in the best

part of the city, one of those monster fires which are of such frequent

occurrence in American towns. A fine hall belonging to the Young

Men’s Christian Association, and many of the largest stores in the

city, had been completely destroyed. This gave the merchants of the

place an opportunity for exercising the liberality which is one of

the characteristics of America, and in no part of America exists in a

higher degree than in Chicago. In a few hours after the occurrence,

before the embers had ceased to smoulder, enough had been subscribed to

rebuild the hall of the Young Men’s Christian Association on a larger

scale than that of the one that had been destroyed; and the merchants

of the place had met, and had put down their names for considerable

sums, to form a fund upon which their brother merchants who had been

burnt out by the great fire, and lost their stock in trade, might

draw for as much as was needed for rebuilding, and re-establishing

themselves in business. Repayment was not to be thought of till the

recovery of their affairs conveniently admitted of it.

It is commonly supposed that the Americans are entirely devoted to the

pursuit of the dollar. It is true that they pursue the dollar more

energetically, intelligently, and successfully than any other people,

but no mistake can be greater than that of supposing that they pursue

it exclusively. First there is no other country in the world in which

the political sentiment is so widely diffused, and so deeply felt;

where so much time and thought are devoted to it; where it calls forth

so much hard intellectual work in the forms of writing, reading, and

speaking. And this is true not of one, but of all classes, from the top

to the bottom of society.

Nor is there any other country in which the religious sentiment works

so vigorously and so spontaneously, and is so fruitful in great,

obvious, and ponderable results. And this as well among those who

labour, as among those who elsewhere are supposed to have almost the

monopoly of thinking and feeling.

Again, in no other country do a million persons taken not from a

horizontal, but from a vertical section of society, read so much; and

there can be no surer gauge of the amount of pure mental activity than

the amount of reading. The Americans are a nation of readers, and read

far more than any other nation in the world. And not only do they read

more, but what they read has more effect on them than is the case with

any other people.

In the three great departments then of intellectual activity and

life—politics, religion, and in the use of literature—this people who

are supposed to devote their whole soul to the pursuit of the dollar,

are greatly in advance of ourselves and of all other nations.

But whatever the amount of toil Americans may impose on themselves

in getting money, it is not done with a view to saving. The American

who hoards is a rare exception. They will make a good fight for the

purpose of enlarging their business, and increasing their income. But,

when this increase comes, it is used and not accumulated. All the

world knows that there are no other people who spend so much on their

families and houses, on travelling and entertaining, in hospitality and

in charity.

[Sidenote: _Improved Type of Features._]

On Sunday evening I attended a service at Trinity Church, having been

attracted by the exterior of the building, which is a conspicuous

object from some points in Michigan Avenue. I mention this because

I observed a peculiarity in the means used for lighting it, which

might occasionally be adopted with advantage in London, and large

cities where sites are costly. I suppose the space was so confined by

dwelling houses on the north and south sides, that windows in the walls

of the aisles were inadmissible. This difficulty had been met boldly

by enlarging the clerestory windows, and adding in the roof rows of

quatrefoil skylights, filled with very dark stained glass. I should

have been glad to have seen the effect of this by daylight. Nine tenths

of the congregation I saw in this church that evening were gentlemen,

from which I inferred that the service was intended mainly for the

rougher sex.

What is conventionally regarded by us as the American type of features

is not uncommon on the Eastern seaboard, but is seldom seen in the

West. The clergyman whom I saw officiating in Trinity Church might have

sat for the bust of a Greek philosopher. He had a massive head, with

much refinement about it; a lofty forehead, a straight nose, and a

magnificent beard. He spoke in a manly and soldierly way of what he had

witnessed on the battle-fields of the late war.

A new and completely distinct type of features has been developed

in America. Of all races of men, that from which the Americans are

descended has the greatest mixture and variety of features. We have no

facial type. We have round heads and long heads; low, high, prominent,

and receding foreheads; large jaws and small; our noses are infinite

in multiformity; we have long and short, thick and fine, pug, Roman,

and straight, each in all degrees. In America, however, the whole of

this variety has been lost and obliterated. The descendants of the

most various-featured race of mankind have become one of the most

uniform-featured race in the world. Whatever part of the country you

may be in, you will find the same thing. As a general rule, the native

Americans all have straight noses off straight foreheads, and small

jaws. Their faces have been brought to one type, and that a far more

intellectual one than what we are familiar with in the old country: it

is almost the antipodes of that to which the conventional John Bull

belongs. To be convinced of this, it is only necessary to look at the

features of the passengers in a railway car, or at the Americans one

meets in private houses, or at places of public amusement. The straight

nose and forehead are everywhere the rule. I saw at Richmond a frame

containing the photographs of the fifty Southerners who had most

distinguished themselves in the late war. There was not a single pug,

or short or Roman nose among them. It has been just the same with the

Greeks; whatever race of people has inhabited the soil of Greece, has

assumed the Greek type of feature. The present inhabitants of Greece

are chiefly Bulgarians, but their features are Greek.

[Sidenote: _Schools at Chicago._]

In America this transformation is observable chiefly in those of

Anglo-Saxon descent. The French, both of Canada and Louisiana, retain

their French features. This may give us some clue to the cause which

has acted on our descendants. The French have retained French habits

of life. They have not given in to and adopted the American love

of excitement, love of work, and devotion to business, which never

pause to enjoy life, but are always struggling forward, and doing

something and doing it at high pressure. It is also observable that the

descendants of the easy-going Germans retain their old European type

longer than those who are of Anglo-Saxon parentage.

I was taken over some of the schools of Chicago by the Superintendent

of Schools for the city. Those I saw were chiefly used by the children

of German and Irish parents. They did not appear so quick as the

children of native Americans: the variety, also, of feature, and more

general fulness of face observable among them, indicated their foreign

extraction. Americanization in these particulars takes place in the

second or third generation. They were cleanly and orderly, and looked

well clothed and well fed. In the Illinois system there are ten grades;

the tenth is the lowest in the Primary School, and the first the

highest in the Grammar School. No copy slips are used in these schools.

They write at first from something set before them on the black board

as I noticed was done at Cincinnati. When sufficiently advanced, they

write each day from memory something they were taught on the previous

day. In Chicago the number of children attending school is very much

below the number of those who are of an age to attend. This is what

might have been expected in a town that has grown to such dimensions in

a single generation. Great efforts, however, are being made to overtake

the work. The difficulty just at present is to get school-buildings

quickly enough. It is certain that neither the city itself, nor their

zealous and able superintendent, will fall short of the occasion.

The Americans are in the habit of speaking very disparagingly of their

official class. I never heard one speak in any other tone on this

subject. If the canon, that whatever all men, at all times, and in

all places, affirm must be true, is to be accepted, then this class

in the United States occupies a position of very bad pre-eminence. No

one is spared. ‘The President is a Judas Iscariot who has sold his

country. Senators, and representatives, are a set of log-rollers and

wire-pullers, who make, on an average of the whole body, £6,000 a year

out of their votes in Congress. Judges receive such small salaries,

that they must also receive bribes. Every town councillor (if that is

the right title), every exciseman, every customhouse officer, every

tax assessor, or collector, is open to conviction, if the argument

used be the dollar. They work quick, for they know they have only four

years for making their fortunes.’ These are the mildest terms in which

they inveigh against what they call the universal rottenness, from top

to bottom, of the official class throughout the Union. On this very

dangerous and delicate ground a stranger can only act the part of a

reporter. He cannot give any comment, or even have any opinion of his

own. I feel, however, that I should be guilty of foul ingratitude, if

I did not give the results of my own experience and observation with

respect to one class, at all events, of American public servants. I saw

much of the superintendents of schools, and was everywhere struck with

their devotion to their work, and with their ability. As far as I could

judge, the public are well and faithfully served by these officers.

And as the superintendent in each city is practically, though not

theoretically, the doer of all that is done in the general management,

and is responsible for the condition of all the schools in the city,

his office is, in fact, second in importance to none.

[Sidenote: _How they speak of those in Authority._]

On a Sunday, while I was at Chicago, the gentleman who had given up to

me his berth in the sleeping-car to Cincinnati, took me to see one of

the large Sunday-schools, which have been organised on a very extensive

scale in this great Western city, and from which great results are

expected. The one I went to see is held in a Congregationalist church.

It is customary at the end of the meeting to give out the number of

those who are present, as everybody is supposed to be interested in

the maintenance and spread of the movement. At the meeting I witnessed

there were 998 persons present, of whom 84 were teachers. They now

have in the city 75 of these schools; of these, however, only five are

organised on the scale of the one I am speaking of. One of the five

is held in an Episcopal church, I believe that of the Holy Trinity.

The pupils in these Sunday-schools are not confined to one class in

society, or to children, or to the members of any particular communion.

All classes attend them; so do many grown-up persons, and all religious

denominations, except the Roman Catholics, are to be found among the

taught and the teachers.

The work of the day commenced by singing three hymns, which were

evidently intended to excite religious emotions of a highly

enthusiastic kind. The leading manager then recited the Commandments,

all present repeating, after each commandment, the petition of our

Ante-Communion service. To this was added what follows the commandments

in the American Episcopal service. ‘Hear also what the Lord Jesus

Christ says: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,

and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and

great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love

thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law

and the prophets.”’ The last chapter in St. Mark’s Gospel was then

read, the chief manager reading the first verse, and all present

simultaneously reading the second, and so on throughout the chapter.

The object of their reading it in this alternate method is to prevent

monotony, and to keep up attention. The pupils had been requested

to commit five verses of this chapter to memory. These verses were

now repeated simultaneously. This was all that was learnt by heart;

and even the learning of this was left entirely to the discretion of

each pupil. A prayer was then offered; but, as a preliminary to it,

the subjects it was proposed to make mention of in the prayer were

announced, with a few brief and pointed comments. The whole assemblage

was now divided into classes of fourteen in each, with a separate

teacher for each. This was done without a single person leaving his

seat, by the simple process of reversing the back of every alternate

seat; so that, where before there were a hundred pews holding seven

persons each, there were now fifty holding fourteen each. The change

was effected in a few seconds. Each teacher now commented on, and

expounded to his class, the five verses that had been committed to

memory. Then followed another hymn, and another short prayer, being

founded entirely on the five verses which had formed the subject for

the day’s instruction. The whole was concluded with the singing of the

Doxology.

[Sidenote: _A Chicago Sunday School._]

This Sunday-school was divided into three grades. First came the

infants. They were placed in a large room behind the west-end gallery,

and over the porch. None of them could read. Nothing was attempted in

this department except awakening the moral sentiments, and teaching

a few facts of Christian history, and if possible a little Christian

doctrine. This was done by telling the children little stories. Three

of these I heard. My friend, who was the chief doer of all that was

done and taught on the occasion of my visit, told these infants, in a

very effective manner, well adapted to their little understandings, how

he had spent on himself, after a long and uncertain struggle (which he

minutely described to them), the first ten cents he had ever possessed;

and how ashamed he afterwards felt of himself.

As soon as they can read, they are promoted into the second grade,

which has its place in the gallery. After a time they are passed on

to the third or highest grade, which has its place in the body of the

church.

It is believed that this Sunday-school organisation has already

effected a great deal of good, by bringing all classes together, and by

influencing, in a way nothing else could, the destitute, the ignorant,

and the reckless. And still more abundant fruit is expected from it in

the future.

Who is there but will entertain bright hopes for America, where among

the rural population the moral tone is sound and healthy, and in the

cities there is so much zeal for doing good?

From the time I left New York till I reached Chicago, I had nowhere

seen in the towns clear drinking water. At New Orleans it was of

the colour of a mulatto, at Cincinnati of a mestizo, and at the

intermediate places of the intermediate shades. At Richmond it had a

kind of ochreous tint. The reason is the same everywhere. The rivers,

with the water of which the towns are supplied, all run through a

yellowish or reddish loamy soil—sometimes sandy, sometimes clayey;

this is easily worn away, and carried off in suspension by the stream,

and is largely added to, after rains, by the surface-washing of the

country. At Chicago, by a boldly-conceived and most successfully

carried-out plan, the whole city is supplied with the purest water. A

tunnel, large enough for two mules to work abreast in it, was carried

out for a distance of two miles beneath the lake. At this point they

had reached water which is perfectly free from all the impurities of

the shore; and here it is admitted into the tunnel in sufficient volume

to supply all the wants of a population of about 280,000 souls. It is

calculated that this tunnel will be ample for all that 100,000 more

inhabitants will require. When the population has grown to this extent,

a second tunnel will have to be constructed. The water is pumped up

from the level of the tunnel to reservoirs that are above the level

of the city: which latter is not the original level of the prairie,

but considerably above it; for it having been found, after a great

part of the city was built, that it was subject to being occasionally

flooded, they raised the ground several feet. In doing this they did

not pull down or bury any part of the streets and blocks of houses

that were already completed, but lifted them up to the desired height

by hydraulic machinery. In this way the Sherman House, one of the

large American hotels (I stayed in it while at Chicago) was elevated

to the level of the raised street, without a guest leaving it, or any

interruption of its business.

[Sidenote: _Post-office Arrangements._]

A foreigner is much struck with the amount of business going on at an

American post-office. Society not being in so settled and stationary a

condition as with us, a far greater proportion of letters are directed

to the post-office, and must be called for. A list of the names of the

persons whose letters have not been called for is printed twice a week,

and hung up in the post-office hall, for the inspection of the public.

This list is divided into three separate parts—English, French, and

German; each part is hung up by itself in its own frame, and there is

a window of enquiry for each of the three nationalities. In the hall

of the post-office, or rather in the screen that separates the office

from the hall, are innumerable pigeon-holes, each with a door to the

hall-side as well as the office-side. The key of the office side door

is kept by the officials, of the hall side door by the person to whom

the box has been assigned. Into this box that person’s letters are put

as soon as a mail is sorted; and he can go, or send at any hour of the

day (or night), unlock his door, and take them out. He is not therefore

obliged to wait for the general delivery, but can get his letters as

soon as the mail arrives. There is, too, less chance of his letters

being lost, for they never get into the hands of the letter-carrier.

And, as everyone whose correspondence is of any consequence adopts this

plan, the number and labour of the letter-carriers are much diminished.

On account of the large amount of business always going on at the

post-office, they separate the ladies from the gentlemen, assigning

them a place for making enquiries, getting their letters, and buying

stamps, quite distinct from that assigned to the men.

These are good arrangements. My personal experience, however, of the

working of the office is not quite favourable. Two-thirds of the

letters posted for me miscarried, and the remaining third I only got

after a great deal of trouble. It is the rule in America that all

officials must be changed as often as the President is changed; and

this for the double reason of enabling the President to reward those

who worked for his election, and because it is a principle in democracy

that all good things of this kind shall be made to go as far as

possible, which can only be done by making the tenure of each occupant

short. I found that this had the disadvantage that the clerks were not

retained so long as to enable them to become familiar with the letter

Z. In consequence of this, in the direction of all the letters written

to me from Europe, it was mistaken for an L; and in the directions of

the letters written to me from New York, where it appears the Z is

decorated with a crossbar, it was mistaken for an F.

[Sidenote: _Americans on Aristocracy._]

The feeling of the Americans on the subject of aristocracy is very

far from being the same in all classes or sections of the community.

I have already made some slight reference to the way in which the

German part of the population regard this institution. We must

consider not only what they think, but also how much they count for

in America. They count for a great deal; because, though they do not

take a very prominent part in politics, still from their numbers, their

intelligence, and their wealth, they form everywhere in the North, and

in a still greater degree in the great West, a very influential portion

of society. And as to this matter, there is no mistaking their thoughts

and feelings. They hate aristocracy, as if it were the foul fiend in

human society; and of all aristocracies they hate that of England the

most, because they regard it as the purest type the world exhibits

of this mighty evil. We may be sure, then, that there is nothing

they would not do to humble the aristocracy of England. Theirs is a

philosophical, instinctive, active, implacable hatred. And the vogue

and influence of it is just in proportion to the strength of the German

element in American society.

But far beyond the Germans in solid telling influence are the great

masses of the native population. They may be described as a stirring,

striving, half-educated people, as very much led by newspapers, and

generally ready believers in local politicians. All these, too, have an

active dislike to the idea of aristocracy, or (as it presents itself to

their matter-of-fact minds) of privileged classes. They condemn it on

two grounds. It is, they say, a ridiculous institution, for it assumes

a superiority which it is impossible can exist; and it is an unjust

institution, because it degrades the great bulk of society, by putting

them in an inferior position. Their ideas on the subject appear to

be more closely connected with contempt than with bitterness. Still

they are distinctly felt, and clearly defined. And they too would be

ready, were there ever an opening for anything of the kind, to join in

a crusade against privileged classes. They would be glad to lend a hand

in the overthrow of any institution which embodies the denial of what

they regard as the natural equality of man.

There remains the class which corresponds with what we call the

Upper Ten Thousand—that is, the class of the refined and highly

educated. Now, these persons do themselves form the aristocracy of

American society. It is true that, speaking generally, they are all

in business of one kind or another, some even in what we would speak

of as retail business; but, in the almost total absence of anything

higher, they constitute, and feel that they do so, a kind of social

aristocracy. And though most of them would, theoretically, condemn

aristocracies, yet they would have neither a contemptuous nor a

bitter feeling against what they were condemning. Some of this class,

following an inextinguishable feeling of human nature, have begun to

look about, and see whether they are not connected by descent with

old families of the old country. And this instantly gives rise to

exclusiveness of feeling, because they are seeking for an advantage in

which the multitude cannot participate. Here, therefore, it would be

contradictory and inconsistent were there any strong feeling against

aristocracy. Of themselves, such persons would be far more disposed to

leave the thing alone, than to join in any endeavours to overturn it.

But, practically, it is of little consequence, except to themselves,

what this class thinks or feels. The majority disposes of everything in

America; and the first step towards gaining its support in the race for

power and place, is to suppress in one’s self everything that would be

distasteful to it.

[Sidenote: _Americans on Aristocracy._]

For himself an American claims the same social position which in Europe

is accorded to the possessors of hereditary wealth and hereditary

titles; and he grounds his claim on the simple fact that he is an

American. It may be as well that we should recognise and that he

should enforce this claim; because it is part of a system which has

for its aim to elevate every individual in the population of a mighty

continent, by awakening in each a sense of political responsibility,

by opening every career to everyone, and by obliging all to think for,

and to depend on, themselves. This is a grander effort than any other

political system has ever before made for humanity; and it is being

worked out under the most favourable circumstances, for in America

there are employment, food, and position for everybody, and no old

and firmly established antagonistic institutions to be fought against

and overthrown in opening the course for the new order of things.

Slavery alone was arrayed against it; but that having been swept away

in a convulsion that was felt not in America only, but all over the

civilised world, the stage is now everywhere perfectly clear, and the

great experiment can be fairly tried.

Last winter in the United States · 第 13 / 23 章