Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Diary in America--Series One, by Captain Marryat.

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In the late 1830s Captain Marryat, already a famous literary figure in

North America, visited the United States and Canada, writing his

observations in two Series of volumes, each containing three books.

These were published in Britain as the six books, but were published in

America as two books with small print and thin paper, thus enabling the

Diary to be published as two books only. It is from first editions of

the American version that we have worked, though we do possess three of

the British first edition of six volumes.

While some of the observations are trivial, and some even possibly

misleading, there is a great deal of useful fact in these books, making

them well worth looking at. There are some tables that may not

reproduce well in the PDA version of these books.

Marryat used his knowledge of America to write a novel based in the

more southerly part, especially California and Texas.

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DIARY IN AMERICA--SERIES ONE, BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT.

Volume the First--Introduction.

After many years of travel, during which I had seen men under almost

every variety of government, religion, and climate, I looked round to

discover if there were not still new combinations under which human

nature was to be investigated. I had traversed the old country until

satisfied, if not satiated; and I had sailed many a weary thousand miles

from west to east, and from north to south, until people, manners, and

customs were looked upon by me with indifference.

The press was constantly pouring out works upon the new world, so

contradictory to each other, and pronounced so unjust by the Americans,

that my curiosity was excited. It appeared strange to me that

travellers whose works showed evident marks of talent should view the

same people through such very different mediums; and that their

gleanings should, generally speaking, be of such meagre materials. Was

there so little to be remarked about America, its government, its

institutions, and the effect which these had upon the people, that the

pages of so many writers upon that country should be filled up with how

the Americans dined or drank wine, and what description of spoons and

forks were used at table? Either the Americans remained purely and

unchangedly English, as when they left their father-land; or the

question required more investigation and deeper research than travellers

in their hasty movements have been able to bestow upon it. Whether I

should be capable of throwing any new light upon the subject, I knew

not, but at all events I made up my mind that I would visit the country

and judge for myself.

On my first arrival I perceived little difference between the city of

New York and one of our principal provincial towns; and, for its people,

not half so much as between the people of Devonshire or Cornwall and

those of Middlesex. I had been two or three weeks in that city, and I

said: There is certainly not much to write about, nor much more than

what has already been continually repeated. No wonder that those who

preceded me have indulged in puerilities to swell out their books. But

in a short time I altered my opinion: even at New York, the English

appearance of the people gradually wore away; my perception of character

became more keen, my observance consequently more nice and close, and I

found that there was a great deal to reflect upon and investigate, and

that America and the American people were indeed an enigma; and I was no

longer surprised at the incongruities which were to be detected in those

works which had attempted to describe the country. I do not assert that

I shall myself succeed, when so many have failed, but at any rate, this

I am certain of, my remarks will be based upon a more sure foundation--

an analysis of human nature.

There are many causes why those who have written upon America have

fallen into error: they have represented the Americans as a nation: now

they are not yet, nor will they for many years be, in the true sense of

the word, a nation--they are a mass of many people cemented together to

a certain degree, by a general form of government; but they are in a

state of transition, and (what may at first appear strange) no

amalgamation as has yet taken place: the puritan of the east, the Dutch

descent of the middle states, the cavalier of the south, are nearly as

marked and distinct now, as at the first occupation of the country,

softened down indeed, but still distinct. Not only are the populations

of the various states distinct, but even those of the cities: and it is

hardly possible to make a remark which may be considered as general to a

country, where the varieties of soil and of climate are so extensive.

Even on that point upon which you might most safely venture to

generalise, namely, the effect of a democratical form of government upon

the mass, your observations must be taken with some exceptions, arising

from the climate, manners, and customs, and the means of livelihood so

differing in this extended country.

Indeed the habit in which travellers indulge of repeating facts which

have taken place, of having taken place in America, has, perhaps

unintentionally on their part, very much misled the English reader. It

would hardly be considered fair, if the wilder parts of Ireland, and the

disgraceful acts which are committed there, were represented as

characteristic of England, or the British empire; yet between London and

Connaught there is less difference than between the most civilised and

intellectual portion of America, such as Boston and Philadelphia, and

the wild regions, and wilder inhabitants of the west of the Mississippi,

and Arkansas, where reckless beings compose a scattered population,

residing too far for the law to reach; or where if it could reach, the

power of the government would prove much too weak to enforce obedience

to it. To do justice to all parties, America should be examined and

portrayed piecemeal, every state separately, for every state is

different, running down the scale from refinement to a state of

barbarism almost unprecedented; but each presenting matter for

investigation and research, and curious examples of cause and effect.

Many of those who have preceded me have not been able to devote

sufficient time to their object, and therefore have failed. If you have

passed through a strange country, totally differing in manners, and

customs, and language from your own, you may give your readers some idea

of the contrast, and the impressions made upon you by what you saw, even

if you have travelled in haste or sojourned there but a few days; but

when the similarity in manners, customs, and language is so great, that

you may imagine yourself to be in your own country, it requires more

research, a greater degree of acumen, and a fuller investigation of

cause and effect than can be given in a few months of rapid motion.

Moreover, English travellers have apparently been more active in

examining the interior of houses, than the public path from which they

should have drawn their conclusions; they have searched with the

curiosity of a woman, instead of examining and surveying with the eye of

a philosopher. Following up this wrong track has been the occasion of

much indiscretion and injustice on their parts, and of justifiably

indignant feeling on the part of the Americans. By many of the writers

on America, the little discrepancies, the mere trifles of custom have

been dwelt upon, with a sarcastic, ill-natured severity to give their

works that semblance of pith, in which, in reality, they were miserably

deficient; and they violated the rights of hospitality that they might

increase their interest as authors.

The Americans are often themselves the cause of their being

misrepresented; there is no country perhaps, in which the habit of

deceiving for amusement, or what is termed hoaxing, is so common.

Indeed this and the hyperbole constitute the major part of American

humour. If they have the slightest suspicion that a foreigner is about

to write a book, nothing appears to give them so much pleasure as to try

to mislead him; this has constantly been practised upon me, and for all

I know, they may in some instances have been successful; if they have,

all I can say of the story is that "_se non e vero, e si ben trovato_,"

that it might have happened. [Note 1.]

When I was at Boston, a gentleman of my acquaintance brought me Miss

Martineau's work, and was excessively delighted when he pointed out to

me two pages of fallacies, which he had told her with a grave face, and

which she had duly recorded and printed. This practice, added to

another, that of attempting to conceal (for the Americans are aware of

many of their defects), has been with me productive of good results: it

has led me to much close investigation, and has made me very cautious in

asserting what has not been proved to my own satisfaction to be worthy

of credibility.

Another difficulty and cause of misrepresentation is, that travellers

are not aware of the jealousy existing between the inhabitants of the

different states and cities. The eastern states pronounce the

southerners to be choleric, reckless, regardless of law, and indifferent

as to religion; while the southerners designate the eastern states as a

nursery of overreaching pedlars, selling clocks and wooden nutmegs.

This running into extremes is produced from the clashing of their

interests as producers and manufacturers. Again, Boston turns up her

erudite nose at New York; Philadelphia, in her pride, looks down upon

both New York and Boston; while New York, clinking her dollars, swears

the Bostonians are a parcel of puritanical prigs, and the Philadelphians

a would-be aristocracy. A western man from Kentucky, when at the

Tremont House in Boston, begged me particularly not to pay attention to

what they said of his state in that quarter. Both a Virginian and

Tennessean, when I was at New York did the same.

At Boston, I was drinking champaign at a supper. "Are you drinking

champaign?" said a young Bostonian. "That's New York--take claret; or,

if you will drink champaign, pour it into a _green_ glass, and they will

think it _hock_; champaign is not right." How are we to distinguish

between right and wrong in this queer world? At New York, they do drink

a great deal of champaign; it is the small beer of the dinner-table.

Champaign become associated with New York, and therefore is not _right_.

I will do the New Yorkers the justice to say, that, as far as _drinks_

are concerned, they are above prejudice: all's right with them, provided

there's enough of it.

The above remarks will testify, that travellers in America have great

difficulties to contend with, and that their channels of information

have been chiefly those of the drawing-room or dinner-table. Had I

worked through the same, I should have found them very difficult of

access; for the Americans had determined that they would no longer

extend their hospitality to those who returned it with ingratitude--nor

can they be blamed. Let us reverse the case. Were not the doors of

many houses in England shut against an American author, when from his

want of knowledge of conventional _usage_, he published what never

should have appeared in print! And should another return to England,

after his tetchy, absurd remarks upon the English, is there much chance

of his receiving a kind welcome? Most assuredly not; both these authors

will be received with caution. The Americans, therefore, are not only

not to blame, but would prove themselves very deficient in a proper

respect for themselves, if they again admitted into their domestic

circles those who eventually requited them with abuse.

Admitting this, of course I have no feelings of ill-will toward them for

any want of hospitality toward me; on the contrary, I was pleased with

the neglect, as it left me free, and unshackled from any real or fancied

claims which the Americans might have made upon me on that score.

Indeed, I had not been three weeks in the country before I decided upon

accepting no more invitations, even charily as they were made. I found

that, although invited, my presence was a restraint upon the company;

every one appeared afraid to speak; and when anything ludicrous

occurred, the cry would be--"Oh, now. Captain Marryat, don't put that

into your book." More than once, when I happened to be in large

parties, a question such as follows would be put to me by some "free and

enlightened individual":--

"Now, Captain Marryat, I ask you before this company, and I trust you

will give me a categorical answer, Are you, or are you not about to

write a book upon this country?" I hardly need observe to the English

reader, that, under such circumstances, the restraint, became mutual; I

declined all farther invitations, and adhered to this determination as

far as I could without cause of offence, during my whole tour through

the United States.

But if I admit, that after the usage which they had received, the

Americans are justified in not again tendering their hospitably to the

English, I cannot, at the same time, but express my opinion as to their

conduct toward me personally. They had no right to insult and annoy me

in the manner they did, from nearly one end of the Union to the other,

either because my predecessors had expressed an unfavourable opinion of

them before my arrival, or because they expected that I would do the

same upon my return to my own country, I remark upon this conduct, not

from any feeling of ill-will or desire of retaliation, but to compel the

Americans to admit that I am under no obligations to them: that I

received from them much more of insult and outrage than of kindness;

and, consequently, that the charge of ingratitude cannot be laid to my

door, however offensive to them some of the remarks in this work may

happen to be.

And here I must observe, that the Americans can no longer anticipate

lenity from the English traveller, as latterly they have so deeply

committed themselves. Once, indeed, they could say, "We admit and are

hospitable to the English, who, as soon as they leave our country, turn

round and abuse and revile us. We have our faults, it is true: but such

conduct on their part is not kind or generous." But they can say this

no longer; they have retaliated, and in their attacks they have been

regardless of justice. The three last works upon the Americans, written

by English authors, were, on the whole, favourable to them; Mr Power's

and Mr Grund's most decidedly so; and Miss Martineau's, filled as it is

with absurdities and fallacies, was _intended_, at all events to be

favourable.

In opposition to them, we have Mr Cooper's remarks upon England, in

which my countrymen are certainly not spared; and, since that

publication, we have another of much greater importance, written by Mr

Carey, of Philadelphia, not, indeed, in a strain of vituperation or

ill-feeling, but asserting, and no doubt to his own satisfaction and

that of his countrymen, proving, that in every important point, that is

to say, under the heads of "Security of Person and Property, of Morals,

Education, Religion, Industry, Invention, Credit," (and consequently

Honesty,) America is in advance of England and every other nation in

Europe!! The tables, then, are turned; it is no longer the English, but

the Americans who are the assailants; and such being the case, I beg

that it may be remembered, that many of the remarks which will

subsequently appear in this work have been forced from me by the attacks

made upon my nation by the American authors; and that, if I am compelled

to draw comparisons, it is not with the slightest wish to annoy or

humiliate the Americans, but in legitimate and justifiable defence of my

own native land.

America is a wonderful country, endowed by the Omnipotent with natural

advantages which no other can boast of; and the mind can hardly

calculate upon the degree of perfection and power to which, whether the

states are eventually separated or not, it may in the course of two

centuries arrive. At present all is energy and enterprise; everything

is in a state of transition, but of rapid improvement--so rapid, indeed,

that those who would describe America now, would have to correct all in

the short space of ten years; for ten years in America is almost equal

to a century in the old continent. Now, you may pass through a wild

forest, where the elk browses and the panther howls; in ten years, that

very forest, with its denizens, will, most likely, have disappeared, and

in their place you will find towns with thousands of inhabitants; with

arts, manufactures, and machinery, all in full activity.

In reviewing America, we must look upon it as showing the development of

the English character under a new aspect, arising from a new state of

things. If I were to draw a comparison between the English and the

Americans, I should say that there is almost as much difference between

the two nations at this present time, as there has long been between the

English and the Dutch. The latter are considered by us as phlegmatic

and slow; and we may be considered the same, compared with our energetic

descendants. Time to an American is everything, [Note 2] and space he

attempts to reduce to a mere nothing. By the steamboats, rail-roads,

and the wonderful facilities of water-carriage, a journey of five

hundred miles is as little considered in America, as would be here a

journey from London to Brighton. "_Go ahead_" is the real motto of the

country; and every man does push on, to gain in advance of his

neighbour. The American lives twice as long as others; for he does

twice the work during the time that he lives. He begins life sooner: at

fifteen he is considered a man, plunges into the stream of enterprise,

floats and struggles with his fellows. In every trifle an American

shows the value he puts upon time. He rises early, eats his meals with

the rapidity of a wolf, and is the whole day at his business. If he be

a merchant, his money, whatever it may amount to, is seldom invested; it

is all floating--his accumulations remain active; and when he dies, his

wealth has to be collected from the four quarters of the globe.

Now, all this energy and activity is of English origin; and were England

expanded into America, the same results would be produced. To a certain

degree, the English, were in former times, what the Americans are now;

and this it is which has raised our country so high in the scale of

nations; but since we have become so closely packed--so crowded, that

there is hardly room for the population, our activity has been

proportionably cramped and subdued. But, in this vast and favoured

country, the very associations and impressions of childhood foster and

enlighten the intellect and precociously rouse the energies. The wide

expanse of territory already occupied--the vast and magnificent rivers--

the boundless regions yet remaining to be peopled--the rapidity of

communication--the dispatch with which everything is effected, are

evident almost to the child. To those who have rivers many thousand

miles in length, the passage across the Atlantic (of 3,500 miles)

appears but a trifle; and the American ladies talk of spending the

winter at Paris with as much indifference as one of our landed

proprietors would, of going up to London for the season.

We must always bear in mind the peculiar and wonderful advantages of

_country_, when we examine America and its form of government; for the

country has had more to do with upholding this democracy than people

might at first imagine. Among the advantages of democracy, the greatest

is, perhaps, that _all start fair_; and the boy who holds the

traveller's horse, as Van Buren is said to have done, may become the

president of the United States. But it is the _country_, and not the

government; which has been productive of such rapid strides as have been

made by America. Indeed it is a query whether the form of government

would have existed down to this day, had it not been for the advantages

derived from the vast extent and boundless resources of the territory in

which it was established. Let the American direct his career to any

goal he pleases, his energies are unshackled; and, in the race, the best

man must win. There is room for all, and millions more. Let him choose

his profession--his career is not checked or foiled by the excess of

those who have already embarked in it. In every department there is an

opening for talent; and for those inclined to work, work is always to be

procured. You have no complaint in this country, that every profession

is so full that it is impossible to know what to do with your children.

There is a vast field, and all may receive the reward due for their

labour.

In a country where the ambition and energies of man have been roused to

such an extent, the great point is to find out worthy incitements for

ambition to feed upon. A virtue directed into a wrong channel may, by

circumstances, prove little better than (even if it does not sink down

into) actual vice. Hence it is that a democratic form of government is

productive of such demoralising effects. Its rewards are few. Honours

of every description, which stir up the soul of man to noble deeds--

worthy incitements, they have none. The only compensation they can

offer for services is money; and the only distinction--the only means of

raising himself above his fellows left to the American--is wealth;

consequently, the acquisition of wealth has become the great spring of

action. But it is not sought after with the avarice to hoard, but with

the ostentation to expend. It is the effect of ambition directed into a

wrong channel. Each man would surpass his neighbour; and the only great

avenue open to all, and into which thousands may press without much

jostling of each other, is that which leads to the shrine of Mammon. It

is our nature to attempt to raise ourselves above our fellow-men; it is

the main-spring of existence--the incitement to all that is great and

virtuous, or great and vicious. In America, but a small portion can

raise themselves, or find rewards for superior talent, but wealth is

attainable by all; and having no aristocracy, no honours, no

distinctions to look forward to, wealth has become the substitute, and,

with very few exceptions, every man is great in proportion to his

riches. The consequence is, that to leave a sum of money when they die

is of little importance to the majority of the Americans. Their object

is to amass it while young, and obtain the consideration which it gives

them during their lifetime.

The society in the United States is that which must naturally be

expected in a new country where there are few men of leisure, and the

majority are working hard to obtain that wealth which almost alone gives

importance under a democratic form of government. You will find

intellectual and gentlemanlike people in America, but they are scattered

here and there. The circle of society is not complete: wherever you go,

you will find an admixture, sudden wealth having admitted those who but

a few years back were in humble circumstances; and in the constant state

of transition which takes place in this country, it will be half a

century, perhaps, before a select circle of society can be collected

together in any one city or place. The improvement is rapid, but the

vast extent of country which has to be peopled prevents that improvement

from being manifest. The stream flows inland, and those who are here

today are gone to-morrow, and their places in society filled up by

others who ten years back had no prospect of ever being admitted. All

is transition, the waves follow one another to the far west, the froth

and scum, boiling in the advance.

America is, indeed, well worth the study of the philosopher. A vast

nation forming, society ever changing, all in motion and activity,

nothing complete, the old continent pouring in her surplus to supply the

loss of the eastern states, all busy as a hive, full of energy and

activity. Every year multitudes swarm off from the east, like bees: not

the young only, but the old, quitting the close-built cities, society,

and refinement, to settle down in some lone spot in the vast prairies,

where the rich soil offers to them the certain prospect of their

families and children being one day possessed of competency and wealth.

To write upon America _as a nation_ would be absurd, for nation,

properly speaking, it is not; but to consider it in its present chaotic

state, is well worth the labour. It would not only exhibit to the

living a somewhat new picture of the human mind, but, as a curious page

in the Philosophy of History, it would hereafter serve as a subject of

review for the Americans themselves.

It is not my intention to follow the individualising plans of the

majority of those who have preceded me in this country. I did not sail

across the Atlantic to ascertain whether the Americans eat their dinners

with two-prong iron, or three-prong silver forks, with chopsticks, or

their fingers; it is quite sufficient for me to know that they do eat

and drink; if they did not, it would be a curious anomaly which I should

not pass over. My object was, to examine and ascertain _what were the

effects of a democratic form of government and climate upon a people

which, with all its foreign admixture, may still be considered as

English_.

It is a fact that our virtues and our vices depend more upon

circumstances than upon ourselves, and there are no circumstances which

operate so powerfully upon us as government and climate. Let it not be

supposed that, in the above assertion, I mean to extenuate vice, or

imply that we are not free agents. Naturally prone to vices in general,

circumstances will render us more prone to one description of vice than

to another; but that is no reason why we should not be answerable for

it, since it is our duty to guard against the besetting sin. But as an

agent in this point the form of government under which we live is,

perhaps, the most powerful in its effects, and thus we constantly hear

of vices peculiar to a country, when it ought rather to be said, of

vices peculiar to a government.

Never, perhaps, was the foundation of a nation laid under such

peculiarly favourable auspices as that of America. The capital they

commenced with was industry, activity, and courage. They had, moreover,

the advantage of the working of genius and wisdom, and the records of

history, as a beacon and a guide; the trial of ages, as to the

respective merits of the various governments to which men have

submitted; the power to select the merits from the demerits in each; a

boundless extent of country, rich in everything that could be of

advantage to man; and they were led by those who where really giants in

those days, a body of men collected and acting together, forming an

aggregate of wisdom and energy, such as probably will not for centuries

be seen again. Never was there such an opportunity of testing the

merits of a republic, of ascertaining if such a form of government could

be maintained--in fact, of proving whether an enlightened people could

govern themselves. And it must be acknowledged that the work was well

begun; Washington, when his career had closed, left the country a pure

republic. He did all that man could do. Miss Martineau asserts that

"America has solved the great problem, that a republic can exist for

fifty years;" but such is not the case. America has proved that, under

peculiar advantages, a people can govern themselves for fifty years; but

if you put the question to an enlightened American, and ask him, "Were

Washington to rise from his grave, would he recognise the present

government of America as the one bequeathed to them?" and the American

will himself answer in the negative. These fifty years have afforded

another proof, were it necessary, how short-sighted and fallible are

men--how impossible it is to keep anything in a state of perfection here

below. Washington left America as an infant nation, a pure and, I may

add, a virtuous republic; but the government of the country has

undergone as much change as everything else, and it has now settled down

into anything but a pure democracy. Nor could it be otherwise; a

republic may be formed and may continue in healthy existence when

regulated by a small body of men, but as men increase and multiply so do

they deteriorate; the closer they are packed the more vicious they

become, and, consequently, the more vicious become their institutions.

Washington and his coadjutors had no power to control the nature of man.

It may be inquired by some, what difference there is between a republic

and a democracy, as the terms have been, and are often, used

indifferently. I know not whether my distinction is right, but I

consider that when those possessed of most talent and wisdom are

selected to act for the benefit of a people, with full reliance upon

their acting for the best, and without any shackle or pledge being

enforced, we may consider that form of government as a republic ruled by

the most enlightened and capable; but that if, on the contrary, those

selected by the people to represent them are not only bound by the

pledges previous to their election, but ordered by the mass how to vote

after their election, then the country, is not ruled by the collected

wisdom of the people, but by the majority, who are as often wrong as

right, and then the governing principle sinks into a democracy, as it

now is in America. [Note 3.]

It is singular to remark, notwithstanding her monarchical form of

government, how much more republican England is in her institutions than

America. Ask an American what he considers the necessary qualifications

of a president, and, after intellectual qualification, he will tell you

firmness, decision, and undaunted courage; and it is really an enigma to

him, although he will not acknowledge it, how the sceptre of a country

like England, subject to the monarchical sway which he detests, can be

held in the hand of a young female of eighteen years of age.

But upon one point I have made up my mind, which is that, with all its

imperfections, democracy is the form of government _best suited to the

present condition of America_, in so far as it is the one under which

the country has made, and will continue to make, the most rapid

advances. That it must eventually be changed is true, but the times of

its change must be determined by so many events, hidden in futurity,

which may accelerate or retard the convulsion, that it would be

presumptuous for any one to attempt to name a period when the present

form of government shall be broken up, and the multitude shall separate

and re-embody themselves under new institutions.

In the arrangement of this work, I have considered it advisable to

present, first, to the reader those _portions_ of my diary which may be

interesting, and in which are recorded traits and incidents which will

bear strongly upon the commentaries I shall subsequently make upon the

institutions of the United States, and the results of those institutions

as developed in the American character. Having been preceded by so many

writers on America, I must occasionally tread in well-beaten tracts;

but, although I shall avoid repetition as much as possible, this will

not prevent me from describing what I saw or felt. Different ideas, and

different associations of ideas, will strike different travellers, as

the same landscape may wear a new appearance, according as it is viewed

in the morning, by noon, or at night; the outlines remain the same, but

the lights, and shadows, and tints, are reflected from the varying

idiosyncrasy of various minds.

My readers will also find many quotations, either embodied in the work

or supplied by notes. This I have considered necessary, that my

opinions may be corroborated; but these quotations will not be extracted

so much from the works of English as from _American_ writers. The

opinions relative to the United States have been so conflicting in the

many works which have been written, that I consider it most important

that I should be able to quote American authorities against themselves,

and strengthen my opinions and arguments by their own admissions.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1. _Paragraph from a New York paper_. That old, deaf English

maiden lady, Miss Martineau, who travelled through some of the states, a

few years since, gives a full account of Mr Poindexter's death;

unfortunately for her veracity, the gentleman still lives; but this is

about as near the truth as the majority of her statements. The

_loafing_ English men and women who visit America, as penny-a-liners,

are perfectly understood here, and Jonathan amuses himself whenever he

meets them, by imposing upon their credulity the most absurd stories

which he can invent, which they swallow whole, go home with their eyes

sticking out of their heads with wonder, and print all they have heard

for the benefit of John Bull's calves.

Note 2. The clocks in America--there rendered so famous by Sam Slick--

instead of the moral lessons inculcated by the dials in this country,

such as "Time flies," etcetera, teach one more suited to American

feeling:--"Time is money!"

Note 3. And in this opinion I find that I am borne out by an American

writer, who says--"It is true, indeed, that the American government,

which, as first set up, was properly republican--that is, representation

in a course of salutary degrees, and with salutary checks upon the

popular will, on the powers of legislation, of the executive, and the

judiciary,--was assailed at an early period of its history, and has been

assailed continuously down to the present time, by a power called

democracy, and that this power has been constantly acquiring influence

and gaining ascendency in the republic during the term of its

history."--(_A Voice from America to England_, by an American Gentleman,

page 10.)

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