“In the same manner it has been said of General Jackson that he

is incapable of writing a good English sentence, as if this were

the standard by which to measure the capacity of a political

chief, especially in America, where, out of a hundred senators and

representatives, scarcely one has received what in Europe would be

called a literary education. If classical learning were to constitute

the scale by which to measure the talents of our statesmen, how far

would they not rank behind the paltriest Prussian schoolmaster!

General Jackson understood the people of the United States better

than, perhaps, any President before him, and developed as much energy

in his administration as any American statesman. I do not here speak

as a partisan, nor do I wish to inquire whether all his measures were

beneficial to the people; but they were, at least, all in unison with

his political doctrines, and carried through with an iron consequence,

notwithstanding the enormous opposition that wealth, and, in a

great degree, also talent, put in the way of their execution. And

yet they call Jackson a second-rate man, because he is not a regular

_speechifyer_, or has never published a long article in the newspapers!

“To judge of a man like General Jackson, one must not analyze him

after the manner of a chemist; one must not separate his talents--his

oratory--his style of composition--his generalship, &c.; but take the

_tout ensemble_ of the man, and I venture to say there is not such

another in the United States. It is useless to draw envious comparisons

between him and Washington, Wellington, Napoleon, Jefferson, and

so forth. Great men always wear the imprints of the times and

circumstances which call their talents into action; but history is

sure to preserve the name of any man who has had the strength and

genius to stamp his own character on the people over whose destinies he

presided. General Jackson has many political enemies, and his political

doctrines are perhaps only maintained--I will not say maintainable--by

his own great personality. His successor in office may not be able to

continue to make head against the opposition;--another party may get

into power, and introduce different doctrines into the administration

of the country;--but the impulse which General Jackson has given to

the democracy of America will always continue to be felt, and impel the

government in a more or less popular direction.”

“You are a great friend of General Jackson,” said I, “from the animated

defence you make of his character.”

“I certainly am, sir,” said he; “and I do not know a single man of our

party that is not warmly attached to him. Not that I approve of all his

political principles; but I like the man, and would rather see _him_

President than any other.”

“You have spoken my very heart,” cried the other senator. “I like _Old

Hickory_, because he is just the man for the people, and as immovable

as a rock. One always knows where to find him.”

“He is just the man our party wanted,” rejoined the first senator, “in

order to take the lead.”

“And I like Old Ironhead,” said the member, “because he is a man after

my own sort. When he once says he is your friend, he _is_ your friend;

but once your enemy, then _look out for breakers_.”

“And, what is more,” interrupted the senator, “his hatred is of that

pure Saxon kind which is always coupled with moral horror; and, for

that reason, irreconcileable.”

“And, what is better than all,” cried the member, chuckling, “he has

a good memory; he never forgets a man who has rendered him a service,

nor does he ever cease to remember an injury. The former is sure of

being rewarded, the latter will with difficulty escape punishment. Mr.

Adams, during his Presidency, was pusillanimous enough to endeavour to

reconcile his enemies by all sorts of _douceurs_; he appointed them to

office, invited them to dinner, and distinguished them even before his

friends. This conduct naturally alienated the latter; while the former,

perceiving his drift, did not think themselves bound to be grateful for

his attentions. General Jackson introduced the doctrine of reward and

punishment, and has ‘_got along_’ with it much better than his warmest

friends anticipated. He appointed his friends to office, and dismissed

his antagonists the moment they had taken an active part in politics.

That principle, sir, is the proper one to go upon. The hope of reward,

and the fear of punishment, govern men in politics and religion.”

“You have expressed some apprehension,” said I, turning to the senator,

“that Mr. Van Buren, whom I suppose you mean by the successor of

General Jackson, might not be able to retain the reins of government

long.”

“If I did so,” replied the senator, “it was not because Mr. Van Buren’s

principles are not fully as orthodox as Jackson’s; but he will be

called on the stage immediately after a great actor will have left it,

in order to perform a part not _originally_ intended for him. He may be

a much greater statesman than General Jackson, and yet fail to satisfy

the country. He may not be allowed to act out his own views, and unable

to identify himself with the party as General Jackson did,--be reduced

to an exceedingly precarious position. Besides, his means of reward, as

my friend chooses to call them, will be limited; General Jackson having

already distributed the best offices among his friends, and the power

of creating new ones being with great reluctance granted by the people.

As regards the power of punishment, Mr. Van Buren will be left entirely

impotent; General Jackson having already cleared the vineyard of the

most noxious weeds, and the dismissal from office of a person appointed

by Jackson being sure of raising a hue and cry throughout the country.”

“All that may be,” observed the second senator; “but Mr. Van Buren is

a shrewd man.”

“So he is; but all the shrewdness in the world will not change the

disagreeable predicament in which he will be placed at the resignation

of General Jackson. I am still afraid of the bank question.”

“That is long ago knocked on the head.”

“I wish it was; but I cannot bring myself to think so. The smallest

commercial crisis--and our country is continually exposed to the

largest ones--may revive the hopes of the opposition. It is the

peculiar curse of our country never to come to a lasting conclusion

on any political principle. What is law under one administration is

abolished under another, and _vice versâ_, just as the one or the other

party happens to command a majority of votes.

“What doctrine may now be considered as settled in the United

States?--Not one; except that we are opposed to royalty--principally on

account of its expenses. There is the system of internal improvements;

have we come to a conclusion with regard to that?--No; the democratic

party merely let it fall through, in order that the Whigs on obtaining

power may take it up again. There is the American system with the high

tariff; how does that question stand?--The parties are precisely in the

same position in which they were before the passing of the Compromise

Bill in 1832-3; the North calling for a protective system, and the

South determined to nullify.[25] And so it is with the question of a

United States’ bank, the merit of each principle being every year newly

tested by the result of the elections. This state of things is far from

being enviable, as it renders the possession of property every day more

and more insecure.”

“Not only does it render property insecure,” rejoined the other

senator, “but it undermines the stability of our institutions. Instead

of adhering to the text of the _constitution_, our parties are led by

different _policies_. There is the tariff policy; as if manufacturing,

or getting rich by selling home made cotton and broad-cloth, were the

last end proposed by government. Then comes the national improvement

policy; people must have large roads and canals in order to force trade

into one or the other direction. They cannot wait until the wants of

commerce shall have called them into existence; neither will they rely

upon private enterprise for their execution: it must be done by the

protecting guardianship of the government, and the whole country _en

masse_ must contribute to benefit particular States. Then comes the

question of a national bank; which has agitated the country before it

was quite ushered into the world, and ever after. What great national

question has occupied public attention more than the art, science,

practice, custom, and expediency of making money? It has employed all

the wisdom, all the discretion, and all the energies of our statesmen;

clearly indicating what direction the republic of the nineteenth

century would take, and wherein consists the greatness of our times.

“All these questions have been so continually agitated that we have

found no time for anything else; and yet we wonder Europeans do not

take a sufficient interest in the progress of our country. What have

we done that is so very marvellous? We have, thanks to the infinite

resources of our country, built more railroads and canals than _they_

have; we have built and blown up more steam-boats; and we have, in

proportion to our population, a larger mercantile navy than any other

people. But what progress have we made in the arts and sciences, in

literature, or in philosophy, to entitle us to be ranked foremost in

the scale of nations? There exists now an international literature

among the civilized nations of the world. What share do we take in

that? The present age is in labour to give birth to a new order of

things, to a new era in history; what is America doing to aid the

delivery?--she who has had so much to do with the conception, and who

is now responsible to the world if the whole prove an abortion. Is not

every such sympathy expressed by our people--I mean by the mass of our

population--laughed to scorn by our ‘respectable’ citizens; and are

not nine-tenths of all the Americans travelling in Europe a living

parody of our republican institutions? Has not even Cooper written half

a dozen books on England, Italy, France, &c. as if his main purpose

were to teach his countrymen good manners, and to convince them that

he is a competent instructor, having himself been admitted into the

best society? Why, if the speeches of our fashionable gentlemen were

published in Europe, if _their_ estimation of our people and of our

institutions were taken as a criterion of the justice and strength of

our government, then the state of our country might, indeed, be held up

_in terrorem_ to every nation aspiring to liberty.

“What have we achieved to be proud of, if it be not our national

charter? And is not this expounded by every party in a different

manner? We do not even seem to know whether we shall really have

a republican government, or whether our constitution shall be a

mere mock-word, granting to the people in theory what a large and

influential portion of our citizens endeavour to deny them in practice.

As long as our institutions are looked upon as a mere experiment, not

only by a certain class in Europe, but by the _élite_ of our _own_

people; as long as our fashionable toadies pour out their contempt for

popular governments in the ante-chambers of princes and nobles; and as

long as our enlightened press finds no better food for the patriotism

of our people than to entertain them with the court fashions and the

court etiquette of Europe,--we have no right to find fault with the

literary and thinking portion of Europeans for not wondering at our

progress, or not thinking us the very first nation in the world.

“To boast of the inexhaustible resources of the country God in his

infinite mercy has granted us for the noblest experiment; to be proud

of our getting rich, of our being well-fed and well-clothed; and

to look down with a mixture of pity and contempt on the millions

which in less favoured climes are struggling against hunger and

despotism,--proves a degree of vulgar egotism against which European

writers have a right to use every weapon with which sarcasm and

ridicule can furnish them.

“Instead of bawling like little children when we are hurt by some

European critic, let us be sufficiently independent to go on

fearlessly, and without reference to the fashions of other nations,

in the developement of those maxims and principles which have led to

the establishment of our government. Let every nation develope and

improve that to which it is principally indebted for its existence and

power, instead of continually borrowing from others, and introducing

heterogeneous elements into the state, which can only weaken its

cohesion. The peculiar genius of our people is their capacity for

self-government. Let them follow the inspiration of that genius, and

esteem themselves for their _real_ worth, and they will have no need of

fearing the sting of European sarcasm.”

“That’s it--that’s it exactly!” shouted the member. “Instead of going

on ‘gloriously,’ ‘irresistibly,’ and ‘triumphantly,’ we stop all the

time to pick up knowledge in Europe.”

“There is enough knowledge to be picked up in Europe for you or me,”

replied the senator with a significant look on the member; “but, when

our people go to Europe, they pick up the weed, and overlook the

wholesome plant. We have no discrimination in our choice; and hence

most of our countrymen, when they return home from abroad, arrive in a

poisoned state, and immediately infect their neighbourhood. We ought to

establish a sort of moral quarantine at the entrance of all our ports,

where we ought to retain gentlemen and ladies returning from Europe,

until they should have given symptoms of returning reason.”

“That’s exactly what _I_ say,” cried the member. “I wish somebody would

make such a motion!”

“Is it not strange,” continued the senator, “that we, who are descended

from the English, should resemble them so little in one respect? The

English carry their national customs and manners wherever they go;

whereas we, poor unfortunate Yankees! with the sympathy of half the

world in our favour, are absolutely ashamed of our own, and embarrassed

when asked about the nature of our government.”

“If any such there be, I wish I knew their names,” interrupted the

member; “they ought to be published.”

“That would be ungentlemanly,” retorted the senator, vexed with the

interruption; “you would surely not introduce a reign of terror!”

“I don’t know about that,” ejaculated the member; “I am the man for the

people, and, when any one insults them, my _dander_ is up; and then I

don’t know _what_ I am doing.”

The senator made no reply.

“There are men in Paris,” continued he after a while, “who do more

harm to their countrymen than all the books that have been written on

America.”

“And who are they?” demanded the member eagerly.

“I shall not name them,” said the senator; “but they are some of our

vulgar rich men, and the very worst hunters after nobility. One of

them gives fine parties, and has by his extravagance acquired a sort

of notoriety which he is mistaking for reputation. This man, who is

much more proud of his intercourse with French noblemen than of his

familiarity with his own countrymen, while at Florence actually refused

to recognise one of our worthiest citizens whom he well knew, and whom

the Grand Duke had received on several occasions.--‘Do you know Mr.

***’ asked the Imperial Prince of Austria, the lion of Paris.--‘I do

not,’ replied the latter, somewhat abashed.--‘He has certainly a very

agreeable family,’ observed his Highness, by way of explaining his

motive.--‘That may be,’ answered the wealthy nothing; ‘but he is a

_merchant_, and I do not associate with these.’--‘Indeed!’ remarked the

Grand Duke naïvely, ‘I was always told the merchants composed your best

society!’”

“And I dare say,” said the member, “he would have been glad, while in

America, to be ranked with the society of merchants.”

“It is the character of every toad-eater,” observed the senator drily,

“that he ceases to recognise his friends the moment they can no longer

be useful to him. There are toad-eaters in politics as well as in

society. A man may be a toad-eater to the mob as well as to those above

him; and I do not know which of the two kinds is the worst. We have a

set of political sycophants who fawn and cringe before every party that

is in power, and who are always the first to desert them at the least

_mauvais contretemps_. Our democracy has no greater enemies than those

twaddles. They come over to the side of the people when they have no

other alternative left, and are the servants of the people just as

long as the people have the power to retain them. They are democrats

for a share in the loaves and fishes, and injure the party more than

its most avowed opponents; just as treachery in your own ranks is worse

than an attack from your enemy.”

“But I should think people would soon find them out,” observed the

member.

“They may indeed very easily be detected,” said the senator; “only the

_people_ find them out too late. One of the surest means of detecting

them is to watch their animosity against harmless individuals, while

they show the greatest delicacy for persons who have the power to

injure them. These men are always ready to kill the fly that annoys

them, but move quietly out of the way of the elephant; they never show

their courage unless they are quite sure of opposing the weak, or, like

Falstaff at the battle of Shrewsbury, merely stab the slain.”

The conversation here began to flag; and, in a short time after, the

honourable member, under pretext of having a pressing engagement with

a friend, left us to enjoy the rest of our walk as best we might,

without the advantage of his remarks. I seized this opportunity to ask

the senator whether what I had heard of the poverty of the city of

Washington was true, and whether the town is really deserted during the

summer?

“I am glad,” replied he, “the people here are poor, and unable to

give splendid entertainments. They would otherwise have the power of

seducing senators and representatives with the display of fashion, and

the numerous attractions and manœuvres of wealthy coteries. It is a

fortunate circumstance that the legislative assemblies of the States of

New York and Pennsylvania meet in comparatively small towns; because

not only the influence of the mob, which Jefferson dreaded, but also

the aristocratic seductions of the higher classes, are capable of

destroying the independence of legislators. From these evils we are

happily exempted by the almost hopeless condition of the inhabitants of

this place. Washington is, in this respect, like a German university,

in which all the citizens make their living by the students and

the professors, and on that account must do what the latter like,

instead of holding out inducements for them to desert the path of

duty. With the exception of half a dozen people of large estates, and

particularly the very generous and hospitable General V--ss, all the

parties, entertainments, balls, concerts, etc. are given by the _corps

diplomatique_, or by the gentlemen holding office, among whom some of

the secretaries are particularly remarkable for their unostentatious

civility to strangers. The company, again, is principally composed of

persons connected with the government, of senators, members of the

House, and foreign diplomatic agents; so that the rich visitors from

the Atlantic towns are incapable of making a sensation, and are only

admitted on even terms.”

“That’s a very flattering account of Washington society,” said I,

delighted with the prospect.

“If you are this evening invited to Mrs. ***’s, you may probably have

an opportunity of verifying all I have said. The meagre salaries of

our public functionaries do not enable them to pamper their guests

with hot suppers, as is the custom among the nabobs of New York; but

if agreeable and affable manners, and the _réunion_ of the first

talents of our country, can compensate you for a leg of a turkey or

an oyster-pie, you will not regret staying a few days in the American

metropolis.”

So saying, he bid me good-b’ye; begged me to make use of him in any

manner I pleased, especially if I wished to be introduced to the

President and Vice-president, or to any of his colleagues on _his_

side of the question. I thanked him cordially for his kindness; and,

intending to pay my respects to the President and Vice-president,

told him frankly that I should be under great obligations to him for

a personal introduction to General Jackson and Mr. Van Buren. This

declaration had the desired effect, and it was agreed between us that

he should call on me early on the morning of the following day in order

to present me to the chief magistrate.

FOOTNOTES:

[23] Every member, as well as every senator in Congress, possesses the

“privilege of franking.” “Uncle Sam” is the familiar appellation of

“United States,” from the initials U. S. For the same reason, U. S. L.

D. (the initials of “United States’ Light Dragoons,”) are translated

into “Uncle Sam’s lazy dogs.”

[24] The above notes were written in part during the administration of

General Jackson, when Mr. Van Buren was President of the Senate.

[25] Mr. Calhoun declared in one of his recent speeches that he was

neither for the administration, nor against it; but was merely an

honest _nullifier_.

CHAPTER IV.

A fashionable young American at Gadsby’s Hotel.--A Washington

Party.--Description of the Parlour and the Refectory.--Apple

Toddy.--Introduction to the Lady of the House and to a Fashionable

Belle.--The young Lady’s Literary Taste.--Mr. Wise.--Grand Distinction

between American and English Conservatism.--American Literati.--A

regular American Tory--his Rise and Progress.--Mr. Rives.--Mr.

Preston.--Mr. Webster.--Pendant to the Old Bailey Speech quoted

by Miss Martineau.--Calhoun’s Remarks on the Money-mania of his

Countrymen.--Webster’s Answer and pathetic Conclusion--his giving

into Poetry and sinking the Bathos.--John Quincy Adams.--Mr.

Forsyth.--Anecdote of an American Anchorite.--A Mazurka danced by four

Fashionable Indies, a Polish Count, and three Members of the _Corps

Diplomatique_.

“The greatest problem of the human race, to the solution of which men

are forced by the peculiarity of their nature, is the establishment

of a society for the maintenance of their rights.”--_Kant’s Idea of a

Universal History in a Cosmopolitical Sense._

On my return to the hotel I found the people at tea, which was served

with beefsteaks, chops, ham, &c. and answered the purpose of a regular

meal. It being too early for me to join them, I quietly sneaked off

to my room, or rather to the third part of a room, which was granted

me by the kindness of the innkeeper; the other two-thirds, with the

corresponding beds, &c. being occupied by a lieutenant in the navy,

and a young man of fashion just returned from Europe, who, in proof of

his foreign civilization, was constantly singing French songs without

reference to melody or metre. One of these, which he usually sang in

the morning, when owing to our late rising we got a cold breakfast, I

yet remember had this singular _refrain_:--

“Je suis content, je suis heureux;

Tout homme doit l’être dans ces lieux.”

Being afraid lest the songster should enter the room, and dispute with

me the use of the only looking-glass, I dressed as quickly as I could;

and then went down to the reading-room, to drag out the time from six

till eight with the newspapers. The appointed hour finally arrived,

and with it the carriage I had previously engaged; and in less than

three-quarters of an hour,--the house of Mrs. *** being situated on the

confines of the ideal town,--my “negro driver” halted before a small

building with a wooden staircase in front, which looked as though it

might be blown off by the first gale, or washed away by the rain,

considering that it was exposed to the unmitigated fury of both, and

evidently placed there for no other purpose but to save room for the

kitchen. The house, which was so uncommonly snug as to have but three

windows in front, was brilliantly illumined by the aid of a single

chandelier; and the door left open, in order that the invited guests

might see their way up stairs into the parlour.

Arrived at the place, my coachman sprung off the box, opened the door

of the carriage, and assisted me in alighting amidst a group of dark

faces that were only rendered visible by the reflection from the

whites of their eyes. I passed the review of the servants without

loss of time, and scrambled up the wooden staircase in order to

force my entrance into the parlour. This, however, was in vain; the

gentlemen, who, much against their own inclination, were placed with

their faces in the room and the more vulgar part of their composition

outside, being unable to move forward, in order to admit the ingress

of a new-comer, without interfering with the dancers. I tried to look

_into_ the room, in order to have at least a peep at the ladies; but,

measuring but five feet ten, and the two gentlemen who guarded the

entrance being probably Kentuckians, I could not manage to look over

their shoulders. I endeavoured to have a glance between their bodies,

or between their shoulders and arms. Vain attempt! they were too

compact to suffer a beam of light to go through them.

In despair I went up another pair of stairs, which led into a sort of

refectory, to which the entrance, though difficult, was not impossible.

The room was furnished in a befitting style of simplicity. There was no

display of overgrown wealth; a few painted chairs and tables, a small

ebony-framed looking-glass, and a few settees,--the bed having been

previously ejected in order to make room for the company,--constituting

the sum total of the _ameublement_. On a small side-table, neatly

covered with a white table-cloth, were placed several large plates of

sandwiches, bread and ham; and in the middle of the room stood a large

basin, which at first I took for a Roman bathing-tub, placed there

for the accommodation of such guests as came from a distance, but, on

drawing near, discovered to be full of that exquisite beverage called

“apple toddy,” which differs very little from Mr. Price’s gin punch at

the Garrick, so much approved of by Mr. Theodore Hook. Indeed, I rather

think the advantage, if any, on the side of the toddy, the apples

imparting to the gin a much more simple and delicate flavour than the

Maraschino; and the thing would be better still if iced soda-water were

added to the compound.

The gentlemen formed a very interesting group round this tub; and,

perceiving a stranger step amongst them, immediately made room; while

one of them, probably the president _pro tem_, seized a huge ladle,

and immersing it first into the liquid, and holding it up again in

triumph as high as he could, filled a more than double-sized glass

to the very brim without spilling one drop of the liquid. This feat,

which convinced me at once of his being an _habitué_, was scarcely

accomplished, before, in the most graceful manner possible, he offered

me the glass with the amicable greeting of--

“Every stranger is welcome in Washington!”

I of course pledged him in due politeness, and in less than five

minutes felt perfectly acquainted with the whole company. I then made

a second attempt at forcing an entrance into the ball-room, which, the

Kentuckians being gone, and their places filled by two spindle-shanked

heroes of New York, succeeded beyond my most sanguine expectations;

admitting me not only into the room, but into the presence of the lady

of the house. Having been invited only through the kind intercession of

a friend, without knowing mine hostess, and the custom of announcing by

servants being not yet introduced into the United States, a gentleman

who acted as usher immediately offered me his arm, and led me into the

presence of an elderly lady, dressed rather in the English matron style

than _à la française_, and whose countenance betokened a life passed in

domestic peace and comfort.

The gentleman introduced me as _Monsieur_ DE ***, much against my own

inclination, and I could clearly perceive the consequence that little

word _de_ gave me; not so much with the lady of the house, as with

a number of fashionable misses, strangers in the metropolis, “who

had just come out that season.” I do not know whether _vanity_ had

something to do with it, but I thought I heard one of them ask whether

I was a bachelor; which question being answered in the affirmative, I

am quite sure I heard another one say, “Hem! I dare say he is as poor

as that Polish Count ***, who flirted with every young lady, and, when

it came to the scratch, had hardly money enough to pay the parson.”

This common-sense remark of an American belle, which proved in a most

satisfactory manner her preferring the useful to the agreeable, did

not much affect me; neither did I ascribe it to the want of liberality

towards strangers, having seen _native Americans_ victimized in the

same manner. I therefore pretended not to have heard the remark, and

asked the gentleman who acted as master of the ceremonies to have the

kindness to introduce me to the lady who, I thought, had inquired

whether I was married.

I found her well-educated, _spirituelle_,--full of imagination. I

even think she gave me to understand that she once wrote poetry--as

an exercise at the boarding-school, and that she always had a secret

attachment to men of letters. Among the various English writers, she

was most in love with Scott, who completely transported her to the

times of chivalry and knight-errantry; while her own countryman Cooper

was to her “an object of perfect horror,” though she had no particular

objection to his last works, “which contain a great deal of information

about the state of society in Europe.” She “_longed_ to see Europe;

and was very much indebted to mamma for bringing her to Washington,

where she could already have a foretaste of it.” On hearing this, her

mother, who stood near her, said that she was a child, and that I

must not listen to her. Being really not disposed for a flirtation,

and seeing the same senator with whom I had taken a walk in the

afternoon enter the room, I was glad to find an opportunity of leaving

my sentimental fair one to the care of her tender parent, who had

instilled into her such delicate tastes.

When the senator saw that I was disengaging myself, he came up to me

without ceremony, shook me by the hand, and asked me how I liked the

party. I related to him my adventure in the upper room, which made him

smile. “You may depend upon it,” said he, “that if ever you meet with

any of those gentlemen in the neighbourhood of his estate, you will not

be able to get off with less than a month’s stay at his house,--such

would be his hospitality, and the pleasure of meeting you again. I must

now lead you round a little, in order to show you some of our most

remarkable characters.

“That man there, with white hair and dark keen eyes, who so violently

gesticulates, is Mr. Wise, a member from Virginia. He is a paragon

of American speakers,--always up, always ready, always determined to

speak, on every occasion, the modicum of two or three hours, were it

but to show his friends and constituents that he is ‘up and doing.’ He

is a member of the Whig opposition; fighting against the government as

against a hydra with many heads, all which _he_ has to sever from the

trunk. His contempt for the present administration knows neither bounds

nor reason; and he is opposed to every one of its measures, to every

member or senator that ever seconded or defended one of these, and to

every man that ever voted for any such member or senator. He goes, in

fact, ‘the whole hog t’other way,’ and, as such, is the very type of

an American Whig. He carries his opposition almost to madness, though

amongst his numerous speeches there are a good many clever ones.”

“I could never tell the object of your Whig party,” said I; “pray, what

_are_ its peculiar principles?”

“Our appellation of _Whigs_ or _Conservatives_, and _Tories_,

_Democrats_, or _Destructives_,” replied he, “must really puzzle the

English. I would ask, what have _our_ Conservatives to preserve? What

our Destructives to destroy? Our Conservatives possess no exclusive

rights, no privileges beyond those enjoyed by the people at large;

their names are not associated with the history of the country; their

ancestors, if they were known, had nothing to do with establishing

the government,--for the _mania_ for aristocracy is least to be found

among those families whose forefathers distinguished themselves in the

revolutionary war; they hold no property which the first commercial

crisis may not destroy; and hold, in fact, the very _reverse_ position

of the Conservatives in England. They do not endeavour to _preserve_

what they _possess_, but strive to _acquire more_; they are not

associated with the _past_, but entertain bright hopes of the _future_;

they do not stand on the broad basis of the history of their own

country, but seek for precedent in Europe. This, sir, is the character

of _our_ Conservatives, Whigs, or Aristocrats, who bear no more

resemblance to the English Tories, than a poor man, who tries to become

rich by shaving his neighbour, does to a millionnaire who defends his

own property.

“You must not be misled by the idle declamations of those who

incessantly talk of the levelling system, and its consequences on the

people of this country. The levelling system commenced at the very

settlement of the country, and was most active during the revolution.

It was then that the Conservatives, with some show of logic, might have

declaimed against the levelling principle; not now. There are some

who will gravely tell you that the most eminent American statesmen,

during the revolution and immediately after, were Conservatives, or

moderate Tories; but what does this prove, if it be true? Simply,

that a great number of those whom an overruling Providence used as

instruments in bestowing liberty and happiness on our people, did not

understand what they were doing: which, after all, does not make so

very much against them; there being at all times, and in all countries,

but few politicians capable of foreseeing the ultimate result of an

innovation. And what, I would ask, have nine-tenths of these Tories

to lose by this levelling system, that makes them so tenacious of

their doctrines? Where is the elevation from which they are afraid

to descend? What noble principles which they cherish, will thereby

be trodden in the dust? What protection which they give to arts and

sciences, will thereby suffer? Echo must answer, ‘What?’--Daniel

Webster, the gentleman there with the hawk-eyes, told us that the war

between the democrats and the aristocracy is a war of the poor against

the rich; and I am inclined to think he is half right,--as far, namely,

as concerns his own party. But if wealth form the only distinction, the

only claim to supremacy in our country, the sooner we get rid of its

influence the better. It is the most degrading of all, and must be

equally spurned by the labourer and the man of genius.”

“But a great number of your literary men belong likewise to the

opposition.”

“Pray, don’t talk to me of our literary men! We have as yet, for the

most part, but literary imitators, who follow the beaten track of the

English or French; and the organization of our society is admirably

calculated to retain them in this state of imbecility. It is the want

of nationality, the absence of generous and expanded feelings, which

are crushed by the vulgar inordinate desire after money, and the little

love which our upper classes in general bear to the institutions of our

country, which are the cause of our poets singing the praise of the

lark and the nightingale, with whose melodious strains they are only

acquainted through the medium of some English annual. What is there

in our country to inspire poetic sentiments, if it be not the love of

liberty and of nature, the great sources of all poetry?

“We are told that our political principles are bad, because they do not

meet with the approbation of some two or three score of vain scribblers

calling themselves _literati_, but being in fact pettifogging lawyers,

that have not wit enough to make a living by their profession. Now,

in order to prove such an assertion to be correct, it would first

be necessary to show that these representatives of the wisdom,

intelligence, and patriotism of the country are capable of forming

a correct judgment of the position and wants of our people; and,

secondly, that they are capable of forming an _independent_ judgment.

When our _literati_ shall be known otherwise than by writing for the

newspapers, or occasionally for an album, I shall believe the first;

when I shall see a paper without advertisements, I shall trust in the

second.

“We talk of an independent press, and our editors are more easily

bought and sold than any writer in France! They are, indeed, not

bought by so much money down, simply because there is none to give it

them; but by contributions of twenty-five dollars a-piece for _annual

advertisements_, paid at the end of the year,--if the subscriber does

not fail in the mean time. Our _literati_ want to make a living with

their pen, and are in this respect just like other tradespeople.

“There,” said he, pointing to a young man dressed in the latest London

fashion, “is a gentleman, the son of a respectable merchant in New

York, who may serve as an illustration of what _we_ mean by a Tory. He

is just turned twenty-one, and has already been in France, England,

and Italy. His father is rich; that is, he associates with fashionable

people, keeps a carriage, and will, if he do not meet with great

reverses, leave to his six children from fifteen to twenty thousand

dollars a head. This modicum the young man will have to improve, or

he will die a beggar; so that, if he does not marry a rich woman, he

will be unavoidably condemned to personal labour and exertion. Yet this

young man is _an aristocrat_! His father, knowing his inability to

provide for him in such a manner as to render him independent, thought

fit to give him a _practical_ rather than a literary education. The

young man accordingly _learned_ reading, writing, and spelling; writes

a tolerably fair hand, and has studied mathematics--as far as the rule

of three! When he had acquired so much of a practical education, he was

sent to Europe to _perfect_ himself.

“He first went to England, where he saw all the great actors and

actresses, went up St. Paul’s to take a view of the city of London,

made the round of the principal gambling-houses and other public

establishments worth the attention of a traveller, dined with every

gentleman to whom he brought a letter of introduction, and then wrote

home, that, being perfectly acquainted with English society, he was

now desirous of seeing France. His father accordingly sent the money,

and the young man set out in a stage-coach from London to Dover. From

Dover to Boulogne he went in a steamer; and at Boulogne he took the

_malle-poste_ for Paris, making observations all the way on the manners

of the French people.

“Arrived in Paris, his first care was to secure comfortable lodgings;

then he delivered his letter of introduction, which was a letter of

credit on Messrs. *** and Co.; then dined with his banker; after which

he dined again at a _restaurant_’s, and then set out to prepare for

his daily avocation, which consisted in strolling from his lodgings in

the Rue Rivoli, through the Rue St. Honoré, to the Palais Royal; from

the Palais Royal, through the Rue Vivienne, to the Place de la Bourse;

thence through the Passage du Panorama to the Boulevards; and over the

Boulevards, through the Rue de la Paix and the Place Vendôme, into the

garden of the Tuileries, which, together with the principal theatres

and other places of amusement, contained his circle of acquaintance in

the French metropolis.

“Society in France being a little easier of access than in England,

he obtained, by dint of perseverance,--one of our cardinal

virtues,--access to one or two respectable families, and left his

card with our minister in order to be presented at court. Whether he

was actually admitted into ‘the presence of royalty,’ after which his

heart panted ever since he was a boy, I know not; but I rather think he

_was_, since, immediately on his return, he cut most of his old friends

and acquaintances, and was, in fact, quite another man.

“The time of his embarkation at Havre being fixed upon, he employed

the remaining six or seven weeks to see Italy; not forgetting to buy

in Milan some _black lace_ for his sister, in Genoa some _velvet_ for

his mother, and in Rome one or two pieces of _mosaïque_, in order

to show his taste in the fine arts. The reason he did not purchase

a _hat_ at Leghorn was, that he did not know how to dispose of it

in his portmanteau. I forgot to say, that, during all the time the

young gentleman was in Europe ‘improving himself,’ he wrote home ‘the

most touching letters,’ which were shown to all the acquaintance of

the family; and, it being thought a pity that such talents should

remain hidden under a bushel, and not enlighten other Americans that

did not enjoy the same advantages, some of them actually appeared in

the papers, superscribed ‘_Correspondence of an American Gentleman

now travelling in Europe_.’ What was particularly remarkable in

his correspondence was the great number of Gallicisms; showing his

acquaintance with a foreign idiom, which he had already mastered to

such a degree as to forget his own language. At last he came back from

his tour, and has ever since been a lion in our fashionable society.

Such, sir, is the usual type of our aristocrats, who are constantly

railing against the levelling system, which would confound them with

the industrious mechanic, the honest farmer, and the enterprising and

thriving backwoodsman. But we have already lost too much time with a

_puppy_; I must now show you some of our _men_.

“That gentleman there, whose animated conversation has brought together

a circle of hearers, is Mr. Rives, senator from Virginia. He is one

of the best specimens of our Southern gentlemen, uniting great vigour

of mind, and the eye of a statesman, with those agreeable and affable

manners which throw off restraint without diminishing respect; a

gift which nature seldom bestows on those born under more Northern

latitudes. He will be a prominent candidate for the Vice-presidency,

and a great support to the democratic party. Mr. Rives is an agreeable

speaker, clear and precise in his arguments, and an enemy to the

rhetorical or flowery style. He has no notion of sinking the bathos, or

of shaking the Senate with the thunder of his voice.

“Next to him stands a gentleman with a red wig and a laughing

countenance; his eyes sparkle, though he has not yet had any champaign,

and the spirits confined within his brain seem to celebrate one

continual Lord Mayor’s day. This is Mr. Preston, senator from South

Carolina. What a pity it is he is on the side of the opposition! He

is full of fun; mixes up repartee, sarcasm, irony, and _persiflage_

in one continual strain of humorous eloquence; and is, in fact, the

prince of wags in Congress. His manners, of course, are those of a

gentleman,--which indeed he cannot help, being a South-Carolinian;

and his wit, though it sometimes touches to the quick, is accompanied

by so much good-nature that it is impossible to be angry with him.

These qualities, of course, do not make him a _leader_, but rather

the cavalry of the opposition; and his spirited attacks sometimes make

greater havoc than the artillery of Clay or Webster.

“Mr. Webster you know already. He sits at yon table, playing at whist.

This is trifling away his time, for he is the last man to spend his

hours in innocent amusements. Mr. Webster is, according to _my_

opinion, a gentleman without imagination or extensive reading; but of

immense natural talents, and severe application to his profession.

He is considered one of the best, and there are those who consider

him _the_ best, constitutional lawyer; and, certes, his judgment,

discrimination, and logic are not surpassed by any member or senator in

Congress. Yet, with all these qualities, he is better calculated for a

debater than for a leader; his mind being more of that analytic order

which succeeds in dissecting and destroying, than of that synthetic

character which combines simple elements to an harmonious whole. The

latter requires a creative genius, and a certain intuitive knowledge

of things; whereas the process of dissection presupposes but a careful

examination of facts, and the application of sound logic.

“To understand where Mr. Webster’s talents lie, it is only necessary to

study his parliamentary tactics, and to read his speeches. He never

rises from his seat, except to repel an attack, or to take advantage of

an overture given by one of his enemies. When an important question--of

which he is hardly ever the originator--is proposed, his practice is

to wait until every one has given his opinion; he then compares them,

dissects them, analyses them, and (wonderful!) pronounces upon them

like a judge after hearing the argument of each counsel. Every flaw

in the reasoning, in the expression,--every logical imperfection is

sure to be detected; and his speech, which in truth is a critical

abstract of all the speeches delivered in Congress, passes then, with

his friends at least, for an _original_ production. But I would ask,

what particular measure has he originated that produced either good

or evil to the country? The tariff?--That was Mr. Calhoun’s measure.

Internal improvements, or a bank.?--That honour (!) belongs to Henry

Clay. When, at the session of Congress in 1832-3, the country was

threatened with civil war, was it _he_ that averted the calamity by

the proposition of a measure calculated to satisfy all parties?--No;

this honour belongs again to Henry Clay. What, then, I ask, has he done

that is so wonderful?--He is a great constitutional lawyer! That may

be; but he has not yet delivered his ideas in a scientific form, and

the commentaries of Mr. Justice Story will perhaps outlive the fame of

Daniel Webster.

[Illustration: DANIEL WEBSTER.]

“Mr. Webster’s great tact in repelling an enemy consists in personal

satire and irony. Thus he succeeded against Mr. Haines, and against

a number of minor opponents, who all went to swell his renown. His

speeches are clear and argumentative; but, while they occupy your

understanding, they leave you cold and cheerless. He cannot excite your

imagination; he cannot touch your feelings; and he does not stimulate

your enthusiasm. Neither is he capable of supplying this deficiency

by his personality; for, though respected and admired throughout the

country, he is not beloved,--no, not even by his own partisans. Mr.

Webster knows the laws of his country; but he is less acquainted with

the men that are to be governed by them, and possesses none of those

conciliating and engaging qualities which insure personal popularity.

This accounts for his position in Congress, where, notwithstanding the

powerful aid he lends to the opposition, he stands alone--_the terrible

senator from Massachusetts_.

“Neither is Mr. Webster as a speaker entirely without faults. He

sometimes tries to sink the bathos by being flowery and rhetorical;

and he seems to labour under the singular impression that a public

speaker must commence and leave off with a flourish, and on this

account violates his imagination with the composition of regular

beginnings and ends, which are but too frequently wholly irrelevant to

the text of his discourses. He had, in this respect, better follow the

example of certain landscape painters, who, being perfectly equal to

the _inanimate_, leave the _figures_ to be done by somebody else.”

* * * * *

_N.B._--It is now three years since I noted down the conversation

of the democratic senator. I have since heard so much of Daniel

Webster,--European writers, and especially Miss Martineau,[26] having

actually made his apotheosis,--that, as a _pendant_ to the Old Bailey

speech recorded in her last work on America, I cannot refrain here

from laying before the British reader some elegant extracts from one

of his speeches (called the _Great_ Speech), in reply to the remarks

of John C. Calhoun, delivered in the Senate on the 12th of March 1838.

This speech, one of the most elaborate of which he was ever delivered,

fills, in the “New York American,” seventeen and a quarter columns, and

was intended to demolish his antagonist. It is on that account full of

personal attacks, occasionally interspersed with a modest praise of

himself.

Mr. Calhoun had been defending an independent Treasury, such as exists,

and has always existed, in every country, whether the Government was

monarchical or republican; while Mr. Webster, the advocate of a union

between the Government and the Bank, tried to ridicule the idea;

endeavouring to show that his adversary had been _previously_ wrong

on a question relating to the _tariff_. Mr. Calhoun, in his opening

remarks, pointed to the evils of the irresponsible American banking

system; to its “self-sustaining principle, which poised and impelled

the system, self-balanced in the midst of the heavens like some

celestial body, with scarcely a perceptible deviation from its path

from the concussion it had received;” and at last took the following

philosophic ground:--

“But its most fatal effects (the effects of the American banking

system) originate in its bearing on the moral and intellectual

developement of the community. The great principles of demand and

supply govern the moral and intellectual world no less than the

business and commercial. If a community be so organised as to cause a

demand for high mental attainments, they are sure to be developed. If

its honours and rewards are allotted to pursuits that require their

developement by creating a demand for intelligence, knowledge, wisdom,

justice, firmness, courage, patriotism, and the like, they are sure

to be produced. But if allotted to pursuits that require inferior

qualities, the higher are sure to decay and perish. I object to the

banking system, because it allots the honours and rewards of the

community in a very undue proportion to a pursuit the least of all

others favourable to the developement of the higher mental qualities,

intellectual or moral,--to the decay of the learned professions,

and the more noble pursuits of science, literature, philosophy, and

statesmanship, and the great and more useful pursuits of business and

industry. With the vast increase of its profits and influence it is

gradually concentrating in itself most of the prizes of life,--wealth,

honour, and influence,--to the great disparagement and degradation of

all the liberal, useful, and generous pursuits of society. The rising

generation cannot but feel its deadening influence. The youth who crowd

our colleges, and behold the road to honour and distinction terminating

in a banking-house, will feel the spirit of emulation decay within

them, and will no longer be pressed forward by generous ardour to mount

up the rugged steep of science as the road to honour and distinction,

when, perhaps, the highest point they could attain in what was once the

most honourable and influential of learned professions would be the

place of attorney to a bank.”

The force and truth of these remarks are amply illustrated by the

actual composition of American society, and would be equally felt in

England, if, with a system of banking similar to that now in use in

the United States, the people were at any time to be _deprived_ (I use

that word on purpose) of the influence of the nobility and clergy. It

is the absence of high dignitaries, and of men placed by their birth

and education above the level of ordinary men, which renders the

presence of a moneyed aristocracy in the United States truly odious

and degrading; and forces every man of sound sense, who is capable of

understanding the true position of the country by comparing it to that

of others, naturally over to the democratic party. In proportion as

science and literature will be cultivated in America, democracy will

become more and more powerful; for it is only vulgar and inferior minds

Whiggism can purchase with money.

To the short and pithy speech of Mr. Calhoun, then, Mr. Webster made,

as I said before, a seventeen and a quarter column answer. This I

surely have no intention of inflicting upon the innocent reader;[27]

but, in order to verify the criticism of the democratic senator, I

shall quote a few of those passages in which Mr. Webster gives into

the poetical,--that is, those passages in which his imagination seems

to be sufficiently excited to _quote_ poetry, exhibiting his taste in

the selection,--and the grand _finale_, which will demonstrate his art

of sinking the bathos.

At the head of the ninth column, after expatiating at some length _on

the inconvenience_ of counting money, which would ensue in case of a

Treasury, he says,

“But this is not all: once a quarter the naval officer is to count the

collector’s money, and the register in the land-office is to count

the receiver’s money. And, moreover, sir! every now and then the

secretary of the Treasury is to authorize unexpected and impromptu

countings in his discretion, and just to satisfy his own mind. What a

money-counting, tinkling, jingling, generation we shall be! All the

money-changers in Solomon’s temple will be as nothing to us. Our sound

_will go forth into all lands_. _We_ shall be like the king in the

ditty of the nursery,

‘There sat the king a-counting of his money.’”

What mighty reasons these for not having a Treasury! And what glorious

quotation of poetry! What a beautiful association of ideas! To think

of the nursery ditty in the Senate of the United States! How well Mr.

Webster remembers the days of his innocence! and what a talent he must

have had, even as a boy, for finance, to remember just the verse which

relates to the “king _a_-counting of his money!”

The next quotation of poetry occurs on the fourteenth column, where Mr.

Webster speaks of the issue of Treasury notes, which, as the orator

assures us, might be given out by the Government so as to _flood the

country_.[28]

“And now I pray you to consider, Mr. President,” says Mr. Webster,

“what an admirable contrivance this would be to secure that economy

in the expenses of Government which the gentleman has so much at

heart. Relaxed from all necessity of taxation, and from the consequent

responsibility to the people,--(this is a wilful misrepresentation

of the fact,)--not called upon to regard at all the amount of annual

income,--having an authority to cause Treasury notes to be issued,

whenever it pleases,

‘In multitudes, like which the _populous_ North

_Poured_ never from her _frozen_ loins to pass

Rhine or the Danau,’--

what admirable restraint would be on Government!” &c.

Now mark how well those three lines of blank verse are brought in!

What a beautiful simile, to compare the issue of Treasury notes to the

_populous_ North _pouring_ from her _frozen_ loins hordes of barbarians

to cross the Rhine or the _Danau_! How applicable! Just the thing for

America! What a terrible sensation those children of the North would

make among the Yankees, just as they are crossing the Rhine or the

Danube!

But the conclusion of Mr. Webster’s speech is a perfect _chef d’œuvre_.

He there apostrophises Calhoun in the following manner:--

“Let him go! I remain! I remain where I ever have been, and ever mean

to be. Here, standing on the platform of the General Constitution,--a

platform broad enough and firm enough to uphold every interest of the

_whole_ country,--I shall still be found!”

The words, “Let him go! I remain!” produce a sort of dramatic effect;

and are, I believe, a happy imitation of those ancient soliloquies

which commence thus: “_He is gone, and I am alone._” And then how

natural that the platform of the General Constitution, which is broad

enough “to uphold _every_ interest of the _whole_ country,” should also

support _him_! Nothing could be more _à propos_.

“Intrusted,” continues Mr. Webster, “with some part in the

administration of that constitution, I intend to act in its spirit, and

in the spirit of those who framed it. Yes, sir; I would act as if our

fathers who formed it for us, and who bequeathed it to us, were looking

on us,--as if I would see their venerable forms bending down to behold

us from the abodes above! I would act too, sir, as if that long line of

posterity were also viewing us, whose eye is hereafter to scrutinise

our conduct.”

What a thorough view and review that is! and what can be more pathetic

than to see the fathers of the constitution first _looking_ upon them,

and then bending down their venerable forms to _behold_ them!

Mr. Webster continues the same beautiful figure still farther.

“Standing thus as in the full gaze of our _ancestors_ and our

_posterity_, having received this inheritance from the former to be

transmitted to the latter, and feeling that, if I am born for any good

in my day and generation, it is for the good of the whole country,

(what a modest way this of recommending himself to the Presidency!) no

local policy or local feelings, no temporary impulse shall induce me to

yield my _foothold_ (!) on the constitution and the Union. I move off

under no banner not known to the whole American people, and to their

constitution and laws. No, sir; these walls, these columns,

----‘fly

From their firm base as soon as I.’”

This is the third and last quotation of poetry, and a direct challenge

of the nullifier, _defeated by General Jackson_. The selection is

beautiful! Mr. Webster’s bravery needs no comment!

Then comes the real _last end_ of the speech,--a perfect _bijou_ of

rhetorical amplification.

“I came into public life, sir, _in the service_ of the United States.”

(Mr. Webster probably means to _serve_ the United States.) “On that

broad _altar_ my earliest and all my public vows have been made. I

propose to serve no other _master_. So far as depends on any agency

of mine, they shall continue United States, united in interest and

affection, united in every thing in regard to which the constitution

has decreed their union; united in war, for the common defence, the

common _renown_, and the common glory; and _united_, _compacted_, _knit

firmly together_ in peace, for the common prosperity and happiness of

ourselves and our children.”

Who does not here remember the wholesome piece of advice Napoleon gave

to his brother Lucien when the latter had sent him a proclamation

intended for the public? “I have read the proclamation,” observed

Napoleon; “it is good for nothing. There are too many words and too few

ideas in it. You struggle after pathos. This is not the way to speak to

the people. They possess more tact and judgment than you are aware of.

Your _prose_ will do more harm than good.”

I am not disposed to undervalue Mr. Webster’s talent as a judge and

critic,--except as regards poetry and the arts. The bench is the proper

place for him; but as a statesman, or party leader, he can only succeed

by the blunders of his antagonists.

* * * * *

The next gentleman to whom my democratic friend directed my attention

was a short stout figure, with a bald head, and a cold, displeasing,

repulsive countenance, which, notwithstanding, beamed with an almost

supernatural intelligence. “This is Mr. John Quincy Adams,” observed my

friend, “formerly President of the United States, and now a member of

Congress. Next to General Jackson, he is perhaps the most remarkable

man in the country, though he is his perfect antipode. If anything

shows the superiority of character over abstract knowledge, it is the

triumph of the honest, straightforward soldier over this hair-splitter.

Were there yet twenty Jacksons in the country, they would yet twenty

times succeed against such a man. This is a law of nature.

“Mr. Adams, if you consider his acquirements, is probably the best

informed man in America, though his knowledge is somewhat rhapsodical,

like his character. He has the most astonishing memory, and possesses

great conversational powers. Yet, with all these eminent qualities,

he has not one true friend! With almost universal talent, and, I

might add, universal application, he possesses no genius, no great

personality, like Jackson, born to wield the destinies of a country.

He is full of information, understands most perfectly the routine

of business, reads everything, examines everything, and remembers

everything; and yet, when he comes to act, is sure of committing some

blunder which will expose him and his friends. He is, in fact, a living

illustration of Voltaire’s motto:

‘_Nous tromper dans nos entreprises,

C’est à quoi nous sommes sujets;

Le matin je fais des projets,

Et le long du jour des sottises._’

The reason is, he knows Europe better than he does America;--he

is a stranger in his own country. He fights his battles on paper;

calculating the number of men, their position, and the kind of arms,

but making no allowance for their moral character. Many of his plans

are well conceived, but all are badly executed; and he has the weakness

of most bad generals, to account for his lost battles by the faults of

his inferior officers.

“The _gaucheries_ which distinguish his political life also mark his

private intercourse; he talks better than any man in the United States,

and yet is sure to be embarrassed when addressed, unless previously

prepared for it. This want of social talent I have frequently noticed

among the most eminent men of New England, and it accounts for their

little popularity. Mr. Adams belongs, of course, to the opposition;

but, like the independent Yankee militia-man, fights his battles ‘_on

his own book_.’[29] He will not suffer any one near him, and attacks

indiscriminately friend or foe that opposes his progress. Of late, few

of his own party have dared to come within his reach; for, though his

political principles are somewhat _rococo_, his wit and sarcasm are as

unimpaired as ever, and his capacity to scratch those who tread upon

his toe as good as in the best days of his manhood.

* * * * *

Mr. Adams’s peculiar manners have, with the exception of too much

panegyric, been well described in an article entitled “Glances at

Congress,” inserted in the first number of the United States’ Magazine

and Democratic Review, published at Washington. “Our attention,” says

the reporter who furnished the article, “is now attracted to a ray of

light that glitters on the apex of a bald and noble head, ‘located’ on

the left of the House, in the neighbourhood of the Speaker’s chair.

It proceeds from that wonderful man, who in his person combines the

agitator, philosopher, poet, statesman, critic, and orator,--John

Quincy Adams. Who that has seen him sitting beneath the cupola of

the hall, with the rays of light gathering and glancing about his

singularly polished head, but has likened him to one of the luminaries

of the age, shining and glittering in the political firmament of the

Union. There he sits hour after hour, day after day, with untiring

patience; never absent from his seat, never voting for an adjournment,

vigilant as the most jealous member of the House; his ear always on

the alert, himself always prepared to go at once into the profoundest

question of state, to the minutest point of order. What must be his

thoughts as he ponders on the past, in which he has played a part so

conspicuous! We look at him, and mark his cold and tearful eye, his

stern and abstracted gaze, and conjure up phantoms of other scenes. We

see him amid his festive and splendid halls ten years back, standing

stiff and awkward, and shaking a tall, military-looking man by the

hand, in whose honour the gala was given, to commemorate the most

splendid of America’s victories. We see him again, years afterwards,

the bitter foe of that same military chieftain, and the competitor

with him for the highest gift of a free people. We look upon a more

than king (!?), who has filled every department of honour in his

native land, still at his post; he who was the President of millions,

now the representative of forty odd thousand, quarrelling about

trifles or advocating high principles. To-day growling and sneering

at the House, with an abolition petition in his trembling hand; and

anon lording it over the passions, and lashing the members into the

wildest state of enthusiasm by his indignant and emphatic eloquence.

Alone, unspoken to, unconsulted, never consulting with others, he sits

apart, wrapped in his reveries; and, with his finger resting on his

nose, he permits his mind to move like a gigantic pendulum, stirring

up the hours of the past and disturbing those of the hidden future.

Or probably he is writing,--his almost perpetual employment;--but

what?--who can guess?--perhaps some poetry in a young girl’s album! He

looks enfeebled, but yet he is never tired; worn out, but ever ready

for combat; melancholy, but let a witty thing fall from any member,

and that old man’s face is wreathed in smiles. He appears passive, but

woe to the unfortunate member that hazards an arrow at him; the eagle

is not swifter in his flight than Mr. Adams; with his agitated finger

quivering in sarcastic gesticulation, he seizes upon his foe; and, amid

the amusement of the House, rarely fails to take a signal vengeance.

“His mode of speaking is peculiar. He rises abruptly, his face

reddens, and, in a moment throwing himself into the attitude of a

veteran gladiator, he prepares for the attack. Then he becomes full

of gesticulation, his body sways to and fro, self-command seems lost;

his head is bent forward in his earnestness till it sometimes nearly

touches the desk; his voice frequently breaks, but he pursues his

object throughout its bearings. Nothing daunts him; the House may ring

with the cries of ‘Order, order!’--unmoved, contemptuous, he stands

amid the tempest, and, like an oak that knows his gnarled and knotted

strength, stretches his arms forth, and defies the blast.”

* * * * *

Leaning against the wall, his hands folded on his back, a contemplative

spectator of the busy scene before him, stood a gentleman with

venerable white hair, and a pale placid countenance, which at once

bespoke reserve and affability, firmness of purpose and urbanity, in

an extraordinary degree. This, as my friend acquainted me, was Mr.

Forsyth, formerly senator from Georgia, but now Secretary of State. He

was one of the most strenuous defenders of General Jackson’s policy at

a time when the latter had a large majority against him in the Senate,

and was shortly after called into the cabinet. There he distinguished

himself by his tact, moderation, and sound statesmanlike policy. The

part he took in the recent difficulties with France is known, though it

is believed he principally acted under General Jackson’s direction.

Mr. Forsyth is one of those few members of the cabinet who have escaped

the ferocious attacks of the opposition. Though a strong partisan of

democracy, neither his private nor his public life furnished a text

for the abuses of party. Some ignorant and uncultivated persons have

_accused_ (!) him of too great a devotion to the ladies; but this

reproach, so far from injuring him in the estimation of sensible

persons, only goes to elevate his character as a man.

It is high time for the Americans to leave off the barbarous and

ridiculous notion that a man, in order to be a statesman, a lawyer, an

orator, or a man of business, must necessarily be a bore in society. I

was once present when an American, who was in the habit of delivering

gratuitous lectures on morality, was asked by a Frenchman what sort of

impression the sight of a beautiful and lovely woman made upon him?

“Precisely the same as that of a fine _horse_,” replied he, by way of

showing the utter subjection in which he kept his passions.--“_Dieu

merci!_” cried the Frenchman; “I vill not invite you to see my

darters.” Nothing, certainly, marks the irredeemable vulgarity of a

person more strongly than his indifference to beauty and accomplishment.

“There are yet three gentlemen,” continued my friend, “whom I would

gladly show you, as amongst those who have the greatest influence on

the destinies of our country; but unfortunately they are not here,

and, with the exception of Mr. Van Buren, who is one of them, are

seldom seen at parties. To-morrow, however, after our call on General

Jackson, I shall introduce you to them personally. At present you must

excuse me; I have to see some of my colleagues in order to prepare

them for a question which I know will to-morrow come up in the Senate.

The opposition want to steal a march upon us; but I am determined they

shall find us prepared.”

Shortly after the senator disappeared, and with him a number of

his colleagues. Scarcely one member remained after twelve, though

the dance continued till half-past two. On this occasion I saw the

first _mazurka_ danced in the United States; four fashionable ladies

consenting to be partners to three Russian gentlemen and a Polish

count, who was something of a lion in Washington. The three Russians

were none other than the amiable and witty Baron K--r, the Russian

minister; the clever and kind-hearted Mr. K--r, the secretary of

legation; and Mr. G--, the _attaché_. The partners could not have

been better selected: and, though I could observe not a few sneers

in the countenances of the elderly portion of the fair, the younger

was evidently delighted; and, as I understood afterwards, practised

the steps and the “turn-abouts” more than a week, to the exclusion of

everything else. I remained until two; at which time I took another

glass of apple-toddy, which enabled me to return home without stopping

on the way at the “Epicure House.”

FOOTNOTES:

[26] Miss Martineau, I understood of my American friends, was, like

many English reformers, a great enthusiast for democracy in the

abstract; only that in her private intercourse she preferred the

society of distinguished persons belonging to the opposite coterie.

This probably accounts for her partiality with regard to Daniel Webster

and Henry Clay, and her antipathy to the administration. The Quarterly

Review, in an excellent article on that useful and instructive work

of Mr. Walker, entitled “The Original,” ascribes to the influence of

the generous and brilliant hospitality of the noble Lords Lansdowne,

Holland, Sefton,--and the clever writer might have added his Grace

the Duke of Devonshire,--“a magic power, which, in the intoxication

of the moment, throws many an author off his guard, until he finds or

thinks himself irrecoverably committed, and, suppressing any lurking

inclination towards Toryism, becomes deeply and definitely a Whig.”

The administration party in America are unfortunately not much in

the habit of entertaining people; but if the number of dishes--no

matter how cooked--constituting an American dinner can be put into

the scale against the rank, beauty, wit, eloquence, accomplishment,

and agreeableness which congregate at the noble houses just named, an

_American Whig_ dinner, too, is not without its attraction.

[27] One of the arguments of Mr. Webster has already been mentioned in

another chapter.

[28] Mr. Webster does not enter on that part of Mr. Calhoun’s speech in

which the latter observes, that the Government, issuing Treasury notes

only to the amount of the anticipated revenue, and for the necessary

expenses of the State, could not abuse its privilege half so much as

the United States’ Bank, dependent as the latter is on commercial

fluctuations, and on the peculiar system of credit established in

America.

[29] This was the answer of a citizen, who, being called upon to join

a company during the last war, wished to express his determination to

fight independently, _on his own account_.

CHAPTER V.

Drive to the White-house.--Anecdote of Mr. Jefferson and the

British Ambassador.--Reception at General Jackson’s.--The General’s

Conversation and Character.--The President’s Prayer.--Anecdotes

of General Jackson.--Reception by Mr. Van Buren.--Anecdote

illustrative of Mr. Van Buren’s Tact--his Character.--Character of

the American Opposition.--Political Hypocrisy.--Mr. Calhoun.--Mr.

Kendall.--Conclusion.

“There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;

For I am arm’d so strong in honesty,

That they pass by me, as the idle wind

Which I respect not.”

_Julius Cæsar_, Act iv. Scene 4.

The next day, at precisely ten o’clock, my friend called on me in a

carriage; and, twenty minutes later, we arrived at the White-house. On

the way thither he told me an anecdote of Mr. Jefferson, “the father

of American democracy,” which I have since heard corroborated in a

high quarter, and which I thought sufficiently amusing to write in my

note-book.

Shortly after the commencement of the French revolution, when the

general war threatened to involve America as one of the belligerent

parties, the noble Lord E--ne, then the Honourable Mr. E--ne, was

sent out as envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary of his

British Majesty, in order probably to maintain the friendly relations

existing between the cabinets of St. James’s and Washington. The noble

lord was then a young man, full of ardour and ambition, and devoted to

the service of his country. He was, therefore, particularly anxious

to make the best possible impression on Mr. Jefferson, whose party

was then in the ascendant; and accordingly determined on a splendid

_début_ of his diplomatic functions. A rich court uniform, beautifully

embroidered with gold, was selected for the purpose, together with a

most costly carriage of state; and the servants of the ambassador shone

in the richest and gayest livery ever beheld by Democrat or Tory in the

Western world.

In this carriage, early on a fine morning, sat the envoy extraordinary

and minister plenipotentiary, dressed in his rich court uniform, with

his credentials in his hand, conning over his harangue on his drive to

the American President. Having but a short distance to go, the carriage

stopped at the White-house just as he had finished the rehearsal; and,

immediately after, one of his footmen jumped off, and made the usual

English _tapage_ at the door, which, being a novelty in America, did

not fail to produce alarm and confusion among the inmates. Instead of

one negro servant, two rushed forthwith to the door; but, dreading a

popular tumult, did not dare open it, until a second rap, more dreadful

than the first, proved the urgency of the case, and the necessity

of performing their duty. One of them at last summoned courage,

and, thrusting out his head without exposing his body, accosted the

ambassador’s footman in these terms:--

“Hallo! wat row are dat?”

The footman then explained that the Honourable Mr. E--ne, envoy

extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary of his British Majesty,

wished to wait upon his Excellency the President of the United States.

This explanation made _Bacchus_ so far recover from his fright as to

induce him to open the door and admit the ambassador. _Jupiter_, the

second servant, drew also near; and, gazing upon the rich uniform of

the stranger,

“Bacchus,” said he, “wat are dat man so dun up for?”

Scarcely had the ambassador time to recover from his astonishment

when he was ushered into a small room, containing the President’s

library; the negroes going before him. There he waited some time,

amusing himself with looking out of the window; one of the black imps

having assured him that he would call “massa” immediately. At last Mr.

Jefferson made his appearance, in his _robe de chambre_ and slippers

without heels. The Honourable Mr. E--ne was more perplexed than ever;

but still trusting to his speech, and throwing himself into the most

graceful attitude, he commenced.

“Mr. President!”

“Sit down, sir!” said Mr. Jefferson, pointing to a seat.

The ambassador continued unmoved.

“Sit down, sir! I pray you,” reiterated Mr. Jefferson, throwing himself

into a large black leathern arm-chair; and the ambassador had to follow

his example.

The effect of the harangue being thus wholly destroyed, the British

envoy made the best of his hands and lungs. Vain effort! Mr. Jefferson

remained impassible; crossing his legs, and from time to time throwing

up his slipper, which with wonderful dexterity he always caught again

at the point of his toe. At last, when the ambassador came to the

end of his speech, in which he expressed the wish that the friendly

relations which had heretofore existed between his Majesty’s Cabinet

and the Government of the United States might continue without

interruption, up goes the slipper nearly to the ceiling of the room,

and down again on the President’s toe, without the latter contracting a

muscle.

“I hope,” said my friend, as we were alighting from the carriage,

“we shall not be received in this manner by General Jackson, who

possesses, without exception, the most dignified manners of any man

in the country.[30] He is a soldier, free from artifice and disguise;

one of nature’s noblemen, possessing more genuine politeness than

nine-tenths of our fashionable people, who import their good-breeding

from Europe. He is, in fact, a phenomenon in our country, which the

present money-making generation cannot understand,--a living paradox in

the eyes of our capitalists; aiming at the happiness of the people by

destroying the National Bank,--a monster ‘who would rather see commerce

and credit perish than the constitution of the country!’”

“Is General Jackson at home?” asked the senator of the Irish servant

that opened the door.

“He is, sir.”

“Here is my card,” said I, “if you wish to announce me.”

“That is not necessary,” replied my friend; “every one can see the

President.”

We walked up one pair of stairs, and, the General happening to be

alone, were immediately admitted into his presence. On our entering

the room, the General rose, and shook us both by the hand. He then

asked us to sit down, and in a few minutes I felt more at my ease than

I ever did in the house of an American broker. Understanding that I

was a German, he told us, that while in North Carolina, not far from a

number of “Dutch” settlements, he applied himself assiduously to the

study of the German language; but, “moving” soon afterwards to the

State of Tennessee, was obliged to give it up. “It is a fine language,”

added he, “spoken by an honest people.” He then drew a picture of the

German settlements, and of the Germans in general, which betrayed a

knowledge of character I have not yet had the good fortune to discover

in any of his political antagonists. From the Germans the conversation

turned to the Irish, whose leading features he traced with the same

accuracy; and so he went on discussing every set of emigrants, and at

last the people of his own country. The sketch he gave of the last was

excellent, and proved him to be thoroughly _master of his subject_.

After this, the senator, in order to draw him out, introduced various

political topics, on which the General expressed himself without a

moment’s hesitation with the utmost determination and precision. It

was as if every thought and principle he uttered had been fixed in his

mind ever since he was born, and had never undergone a change up to the

present period. Politics with him do not consist in a mere series of

cold rules and maxims, in order to obtain a particular object; he is an

enthusiast, full of faith in the people and in the perfectibility of

human nature, and deeply imbued with the purest religious sentiments.

No abstract argument can drive him from his position, for he is nothing

separate. He is a politician, a soldier, an enthusiast for the rights

of the people, and a Christian at the same time. If the politician is

convinced, there remain still the soldier, the enthusiast, and the

Christian to be satisfied; if the soldier is captured, there remains

still the enthusiast; and so on. He is always a whole; head, heart,

and hand,--conception, determination, and action--being one and

inseparable. Such men are always a riddle to the world, accustomed as

the vulgar are to ascribe every signal success to a particular talent,

or to this or that capacity, without ever considering the connection

between mind and character.

Of General Jackson’s enthusiasm I soon had an opportunity of satisfying

myself. Miss Martineau being at that time in Washington, and having

been overheard to make a remark at her boarding-house to this effect,

“that it was really a wonder General Jackson succeeded against the

United States’ bank, considering that all the talent and the genius

of the country were against him,” my friend seized the opportunity to

direct the General’s attention to the peculiar manner in which British

writers were accustomed to view his government. Upon this he rose from

his chair, drew himself up to his full height, and, with his eyes

flashing fire, remarked to the senator:--“You might have told her, sir,

that all the _honesty_ and _integrity_ of the country were on _my_

side.” Then, without uttering another syllable, he resumed his seat,

and was as friendly and agreeable as before.

Shortly after, an old man of the “far West” entered the room. Jackson

rose to salute him, but was told, almost in a sulky manner, “not to

disturb himself, it being evident that he was engaged;” and that the

stranger, who wore boots, and a cloak with three capes, “would amuse

himself, in the mean while, with looking on the pictures.”

“Do so,” said the General; but following him with his eyes, and

perceiving him standing still before an engraving representing a battle

fought in the revolutionary war, the thought seemed to strike him that

the man, who was very old, might have been a revolutionary soldier.

“You are perhaps acquainted with the details of that battle?” said

General Jackson, drawing near him.

“Indeed I am, sir,” said the veteran; “I was myself engaged in it, and

carried off a nice keep-sake here on my left arm.”

I do not remember what dialogue now ensued between the soldier and the

General,--it was, indeed, too rapid for me to follow it; but I saw the

old man, who at first answered the General sulkily, grow warmer and

warmer, until at last he was actually moved to tears. He sternly gazed

on the President’s face; then, as if a sudden revolution had taken

place in his mind, he turned round, wished the General a good morning,

and left the room. This man may have been an enemy to General Jackson’s

administration, who had come to see the President for no other purpose

but to satisfy his curiosity; but I am quite sure he left him with the

determination to vote for him at the next election.

Our visit was soon again interrupted by the arrival of three gentlemen

from the Northern States. They came to Washington to pay their

respects to the President, who almost instantaneously recognised

them as belonging to the opposition. His expressions and manners

were remarkably guarded; and, in a short time, he introduced the

subject of manufactures. He inquired particularly into the method of

cotton-spinning, and at least managed to keep them in good-humour. Soon

after we all left together, and, in going down stairs, I heard one of

the company say, “He would not be so bad a President after all, if he

were not so d--d obstinate!”

“Well, sir,” said the senator, as we were again seated in our carriage,

“how do you like the President?”

“He is, indeed, an extraordinary man!”

“And have you observed his talent in making himself beloved by all who

come near him? You have probably seen him with his enemies; but you

ought to see him when he is without restraint among his friends,--how,

from pure benevolence, he just says to every man what is most agreeable

to him!--how delicately he alludes to every little service rendered

him!--how he remembers every act of kindness, every opinion expressed

in favour of his measures,--and you would at once perceive the reason

of his unparalleled popularity.

“And then see him again in his cabinet,--explaining his political

principles, and providing for the means of carrying them into

effect,--always determined, never wavering on account of the doubts

raised by his friends, and inspiring his own council with confidence

in his measures,--and you would be convinced that General Jackson, so

far from being influenced by his advisers, is himself the director of

his cabinet, in which, perhaps, he rules with as much absolute power

as any potentate in Europe. And yet, with all this _penchant_ towards

absolutism, what a staunch defender of democracy! the Wellington of

our Liberals! and who knows but that Wellington, had he been born in

America, would not have acted like Jackson; finding the democratic form

of government the most legitimate, the most natural, and that which is

sure to develope all the resources of the country? Minds of the same

tenor sometimes act very differently under different circumstances; and

_he who in England is a strong Conservative, may in America, for very

analogous reasons, be a sound Democrat_.

It was not long after my presentation at General Jackson’s that I

had the honour of taking tea with him; which gave me an opportunity

of seeing him in his private circle. The invitation was given

unceremoniously, just at the moment I was going to take leave of him.

We passed into another room, where the company, consisting of his

private secretary, his adopted son and his lady, and a gentleman who

has since had an important influence on public affairs, were assembled

round a small table,--Mrs. Jackson (the wife of his adopted son)

doing the honours of the house. After each of us had taken the place

assigned him by the lady, General Jackson rose, and with a loud and

solemn voice, which bore the imprint of sincerity, thanked the Giver of

all for His infinite mercy. The prayer was short, but impressive; and

the example of his devotion had a visible effect on every individual

present. Add to this, that General Jackson is a tall majestic-looking

man, with a stern countenance, grey piercing eyes, and bushy white

hair, that stands almost perpendicularly on his head, leaving his

large high forehead entirely free, and you will easily conceive the

solemnity of the thanks’-offering of the American President.

One of the most characteristic anecdotes of General Jackson relates to

the late difficulties between the Governments of the United States and

France, when the King of the French seemed to insist on an apology from

the President. This, as is well known, General Jackson peremptorily

refused; and accordingly a cabinet council was convened in Washington,

in which every member delivered his opinion according to his own

manner, General Jackson listening to all with the utmost patience.

There was the Secretary of State, not knowing how far a war with France

would be supported by the people of the different States; the Secretary

of the Treasury was already computing the deficit in the budget; the

Secretary of the Navy thought it his duty to observe that the naval

force of the United States was hardly capable of coping with that of

the French; and at last came the Secretary of War, who alluded to the

state of the army, a great portion of which was absorbed by the Indian

campaign. General Jackson remained immoveable. At last, when every one

had finished, he rose; and, placing his hand with some violence on

the table, said in a solemn and firm voice: “We have obtained judgment

against the French King; and, by the Eternal! we must sue out the

execution!”--“But what if we meet with reverses? The French will cut

off our commerce; they will arm privateers against our merchantmen;

and what if they attempt a landing?”--“That’s precisely the thing

they will attempt,” observed General Jackson calmly; “and you may

depend upon it we will give them a good drubbing.” This anecdote gave

rise to a caricature, representing a French army, led by the Gallic

cock, swimming across the Atlantic; and General Jackson standing on

the American shore with his cane drawn, and a numerous staff behind

him, expecting their arrival. Another caricature, drawn after the

settlement, representing General Jackson holding in his left hand a bag

of money, with the figures 25,000,000 written on it, and in his right

hand a cane, which he is shaking at Louis Philippe, with the words

to his mouth, “’Tis well that you paid me, or, by the Eternal!” to

which the King is represented bowing, and saying, “Not another word of

apology, my dear General!” has already been mentioned in another work.

The following fact, which was related to me by Mr. Power, an American

sculptor of much merit, now at Florence, is yet deserving a place in

my note-book. When Mr. Power was last in Washington to take a bust

of General Jackson, a friend observed to the artist that it would be

impossible for him to give the right expression to the mouth, the

General having lost his front teeth, which destroyed the expression

of firmness about his lips; and that he had therefore better try to

persuade the General to wear false teeth for one or two sittings. The

artist, grateful for the hint, did not omit to ask General Jackson in a

truly Western manner (Mr. Power was born and brought up in Cincinnati)

whether he had ever worn false teeth? “I have,” said the General; “but

I am sorry for it.”--“But had you not better put them in once more, to

give me an opportunity of modelling the mouth; it would greatly enhance

the effect.”--“The _truth_, sir! the whole truth, and nothing: but the

truth!” exclaimed the General with a stern voice; “you have no right to

represent me otherwise than I am.”

What simplicity of character! and yet what energy and perseverance!

We drove from the White-house towards Georgetown; stopping at one of

the houses, called “The Seven Buildings.” This was the dwelling of the

Vice-President. My friend gave both our names, and in a moment after

we were admitted into the presence of Mr. Van Buren. He received us

in the same manner as General Jackson, only with less solemnity. His

conversation was rapid, but concise and logical; his voice calm and

steady, and his manners those of a perfect courtier. Understanding that

I was a German, he introduced the subject of travelling, which gave

him an opportunity of comparing the scenery on the Rhine with that of

the Hudson, and pointing out the distinct beauties of each; which he

did with more taste and less affectation than I had yet heard from an

American when speaking of foreign countries. He gave the preference

to his native river, and supported his opinion with such forcible

arguments that he converted me to his doctrine. He then drew a parallel

between the state of Europe and that of the United States; pointing

to the advantages of the latter, to their government, the manners and

customs of the people, and to their happiness. All this he did with

so much gentleness, with such an entire absence of conceit, and such

admirable management of terms, that it was impossible either to resist

his eloquence or to be offended with his conclusions.

Our visit was interrupted by the arrival of several Western members,

who, being alarmed at General Jackson’s message in relation to

the differences with France, desired to know whether it was the

Vice-President’s opinion that France would pay “without having a tug

for it.” Mr. Van Buren, without being for one moment embarrassed

by this abrupt question, instead of an answer, took up a British

periodical, the name of which I do not now recollect, but which treated

the French-American question in a very sensible manner. From this

he read to the members several passages, which expressed themselves

favourably to General Jackson’s policy; and at last the conclusion,

which ran thus, “Jonathan has claimed the money, and Jonathan will have

it.” The members were delighted; and the conversation then passed to

other topics. I mention this as an instance of Mr. Van Buren’s tact, a

quality full as indispensable to a statesman as a sound knowledge of

politics.

* * * * *

“Well, and what do you think of our Vice-President?” asked my friend,

as we were driving towards the lodgings of Mr. John C. Calhoun.

“I have certainly left him with the highest respect for his mind and

character.”

“And yet, sir! there are those who call him an _intrigant_, a ‘little

magician,’ a ‘non-committal man,’ &c. though there is not one man in

the country whose attachment to the democratic cause is better known

or understood. The firmness of a man’s political principles is, in

this country at least, always commensurate with the degree of abuse

heaped upon him by the opposite party. Our people, I mean ‘the higher

and better informed classes,’ are seldom inexorable with regard to a

politician holding out some chances of conversion; but let a man’s

character be established, and there is no end to their vituperation.

This has happened to Mr. Van Buren, and ought to be considered by every

democrat as a pledge of his fidelity.

“What act of Mr. Van Buren has ever had any other than democratic

tendency? What principle did he ever advocate that was not strictly

conformable to that doctrine? If he be a non-committal man, it must be

that he never committed himself _to his enemies_.

“The reason why in America, more than in every other country,

political controversies are personal, is, that the opposition, which

in consequence of universal suffrage can only triumph by popular

majorities, is obliged to apparently uphold the principles maintained

by the democracy; so that, while it cannot make war upon the general

doctrines of the administration, it is concentrating all its venom

in its attacks on particular measures, and the men who support them.

Let any Whig, either in or out of Congress, deny the correctness

of this proposition, and, I say, he either does not understand our

institutions, or he is wilfully disguising the truth. There is no other

real distinction of parties in the United States, except, that one

really does or means to do what it says; while the other is saying one

thing, and preparing or hoping to be able to do another. There is more

political hypocrisy in this country than perhaps anywhere else,--not

among the people, but among ‘the upper classes;’ owing to the basis

of our society being purely democratic, and the superstructure a

lamentable imitation of the usages of Europe.

“I know,” continued he after a pause, “that no administration or set of

men is without its political misconceptions and mistakes; but have the

opposition calculated how many of these are to be charged to their own

account? Into how many errors they force the administration by their

reckless and indiscriminate resistance against all measures emanating

from the executive? And do they not thus force the government to avail

itself continually of ‘the party’ in carrying measures which ought to

originate in calm reflection and sound statesmanship, and be applied in

a generous spirit to all classes of society? The spirit of party is,

indeed, at the basis of our institutions; an opposition we must have,

and the peculiar nature of our government requires a powerful one; but

most unfortunately our demagogues--Whigs and Democrats--oppose men,

not principles. If there be a man in the country capable of acting as

mediator between the two hostile parties,--appeasing the one without

sacrificing the principles of the other,--that man is Mr. Van Buren;

and future events will prove it.”

We now halted before a small house in Pennsylvania Avenue, situated not

far from the Capitol. This was the temporary residence of Mr. John C.

Calhoun, senator from South Carolina. If the South, in general, have a

right to be proud of the great number of eminent statesmen and orators

who represent its interests in Congress, South Carolina in particular

may glory in Mr. Calhoun. He is a statesman, not a lawyer; and perhaps

the only senator in Congress whose course of reading was strictly

adapted to the high functions he was to assume. When my friend and

I entered the room, he was stretched on a couch, from which he rose

to offer us a warm Southern welcome. He almost immediately introduced

the subject of politics, in which his superiority over my friend soon

reduced the latter to the situation of a mere listener.

As he was explaining his views and theories, which, contrary to the

usual American practice, he did in the most concise manner, and with a

degree of rapidity which required our utmost attention to follow him,

his face assumed an almost supernatural expression; his dark brows were

knit together, his eyes shot fire, his black hair stood on end, while

on his quivering lips there hung an almost Mephistophelean scorn at

the absurdity of the opposite doctrine. Then, at once, he became again

all calmness, gentleness, and good-nature, laughing at the blunders of

his friends and foes, and commencing a highly comical review of their

absurdities.

Mr. Calhoun is, without contradiction, the greatest genius in

Congress, and secretly acknowledged as such even by his most declared

political enemies. His speeches are the shortest, his political

views the most elevated, his delivery the most impressive of any

one of his colleagues; and he adds to all these qualities the most

unsparing irony. He was Vice-President at the commencement of General

Jackson’s administration; but subsequently joined the Whigs in order

to oppose the tariff, _nullified_ by his native State. Without this

step, which destroyed his popularity in the North, he would, with

very little opposition, have become General Jackson’s successor in

office. This alone proves the absurdity of the charge of unlawful

ambition repeatedly brought against him. The Presidential chair of

_the United States_, once within his reach, was assuredly a higher

mark than the Presidency of “the _Southern_ Union,” the _bête noire_

of the enlightened opposition. Mr. Calhoun has lately again joined the

administration in its endeavour to separate itself from the banks; a

short extract from his speech I have already presented in a previous

note.

* * * * *

“You must yet see one of our most remarkable men,” said my friend; “but

I cannot take you to his house. You must see him at his office, where

he is from five o’clock in the morning till late at night, always ‘up

and doing.’ I mean the fifth auditor, Mr. Amos Kendall, who, according

to the account of the opposition, has governed the country for the last

six or eight years, and against whose genius their united talents

were unable to prevail. Mr. Kendall is a native of Massachusetts, and

a graduate of Dartmouth College. He emigrated to Kentucky, where, like

many New-Englanders, he was for a time employed as an instructor,

and for a short time engaged as private tutor in Mr. Clay’s family.

He subsequently became editor of a paper, which is said to have

revolutionised _the State_, and, inasmuch as the leading articles of

one journal are copied into the others, _the whole country_.”

“No man knows like Mr. Kendall how to address the people: his language

is always popular, and yet concise; he never destroys the effect of

a strong thought by spinning it out into a long sentence; and, above

all, he avoids declamation. His style is forcible; because it convinces

the people in their own way, instead of fatiguing them with laborious

researches, or overwhelming them with the unfathomable pathos of a

regular orator. He has shown to his political opponents that the

various principles of democracy may be united into a system, and that

that system may be maintained in practice by a government strong within

and without.”

At this moment our coach stopped at the entrance of the war department,

and the next minute we were ushered into the audience-chamber of the

fifth auditor. He was at that moment talking to several people that

besieged his office, without leaving off writing. When I was introduced

to him, he made a slight motion forward, seizing me by the hand; but

immediately sank back again into his chair with a seeming intention to

recommence his labours. He spoke but a few words, principally by way

of asking questions; and having ascertained who I was, what I sought,

and what my opinions were, was evidently forming an estimate of my mind

and character. While he was thus conversing with my friend and me,

filling up the intervals with writing, I observed that he was equally

watching the rest of the company; among whom I recognised an individual

who I knew did not in his native place enjoy a very high reputation for

industry, and who, to judge from Mr. Kendall’s glances at him, had no

particular chance of success in Washington.

Mr. Kendall’s person is one of the most striking I ever beheld. He

is of a spare frame, of rather less than middle stature, and, when

walking or standing, inclines his body slightly forward. His face

is pale, wearing the imprint of over-exertion; but his large eyes

are full of animation, and his forehead, the highest and broadest I

ever saw, bespeaks the greatest intellectual power. His head, which

indeed is one of the most extraordinary phrenological specimens, is

of the most unusual size when compared to his body; and it seems as

if, by continual exertion of his intellectual faculties, his whole

body had been made tributary to his brain. A man with Mr. Kendall’s

extraordinary powers of mind, and such indefatigable habits of

industry,--calm, passionless, and endowed with the most unerring

judgment,--must naturally be hated by his political antagonists; though

not even the most obstinate members of the opposition have as yet

ventured to dispute his talents.

We did not remain long at the office; but, on our way home, my friend

finished the picture. “You ought to see him in the centre of his

family,” said he: “what an excellent husband and father! in his private

intercourse how remarkably modest and unassuming! He has indeed but one

fault, which, however, is sufficient to damn him with our fashionable

people: he is not fond of the dissipations of society, and does not

give sumptuous entertainments.”

_N. B._ Mr. Kendall is now Postmaster-general, and as such a member

of Mr. Van Buren’s cabinet. Though in rank the last, he is known by

friend and foe to be the first in activity; and his counsel is decisive

with the most experienced men in Washington. Mr. Kendall commenced his

political career not more than ten years ago with editing a small paper

in the Western country; and stands now foremost in the ranks of the

most eminent statesmen of America. If he were a _parvenu_ merchant or

broker, he would be cited by the aristocracy as an example worthy of

imitation; but, having risen merely by his _talents_ and his _pen_, the

very mention of his name is offensive to the high-minded stock-jobbers

in Wall and State streets.

* * * * *

In order to form a correct idea of the American government, it is

absolutely necessary one should stay some time in Washington; and

frequent, not merely the fashionable society, but the company of

those sturdy members of Congress, who, deputed from every part of the

Union, actually represent the opinions, habits, and sentiments of the

different sections of the country. During the session of Congress,

Washington is the miniature picture of the United States; enabling a

stranger to form a better estimate of the character of the American

people than many years’ residence in different parts of the Union. The

picture is always complete, not a mere fragment, as is necessarily the

case in any other city east or west of the Alleghanies. It is there

one can take a correct view of the state of parties; of the magnitude

of the different interests, whether commercial, manufacturing, or

agricultural; and of the political prospects of the country.

One of the most amusing and instructive occupations is to contrast

the representatives from the “New States” (the men that have not

yet learned how to bow, and do not yet know what P. P. C. on a card

means,) with the supple members from New York or Massachusetts, with

their French and English civilization hanging loosely about them,

like a garment not made for their use; how the latter are striving

for ascendency, and how they are daily losing influence with those

vigorous sons of the West, that reflect the genius and enterprise of a

new world! The West--not the East continually troubled with European

visions--is ultimately destined to sway the country. The sea does not

separate America from Europe; but behind the Alleghanies is springing

up a new life, and a people more nearly allied to the soil that

nourishes them, than the more refined and polished population of the

seaboard.

To sum up the whole: what is termed “the aristocracy of America”--that

is, a considerable portion of all people worth from fifty to an

hundred thousand dollars,--are, _owing to the growing power of the

West_, a most harmless, though I cannot say “inoffensive,” part of the

population. They live in houses a little larger than those inhabited

by respectable mechanics, cover the floors of their parlours with

Brussels carpets instead of Kidderminster, pay nine pence for beef

which the labourer purchases for eight, pay a shilling more for a pound

of tea, and keep a man-servant. Some of them keep a carriage, but by

far the greater part are content with hackney-coaches. In point of

accomplishment they are only inferior to the middle classes of Europe;

but in pride and conceit they surpass the ancient nobility of the

Holy Roman Empire and the thirty-four princes of the actual Germanic

Confederation. This circumstance does not much add to their amiability,

and does not in particular grace the boys and girls composing “the

first society.” Some of them lay a great stress on family when it is

joined to money; but, without this most indispensable requisite, _la

vertu sans argent n’est qu’un meuble inutile_. It is, however, to be

observed that property not only produces respectability, but also

acts backwards on a man’s ancestry; there being not one rich man in

the United States,--foreigners excepted,--who is not descended from a

respectable father and grandfather.

In politics they are the most implacable enemies to democracy; which,

with them, is synonymous with mob-government and anarchy. They are

for a _strong_ administration, made out of their own party; and would

hardly object to royalty, if the King would support himself out of his

private chest. A court in Upper Canada, such as Lord Durham established

there for a short time, would be a great attraction, and would

undoubtedly cause many emigrations to Quebec. In all other respects

their political opinions do not seriously differ from those of the

mass of the people, except that they are for two trifling reforms in

the _status quo_,--the introduction of an electoral census, and the

re-establishment of the law of primogeniture. It is true that, had this

reform been carried ten years ago, they would themselves be in the

situation of those against whom these measures are now intended to be

effectual; but this is a matter of no consideration when compared to

the good which would accrue from it to “society.”

But it is not so much in America as in _Europe_ that the true

character of the American aristocracy can be successfully studied. At

home the vulgar clamour of the mob, and a few silly editors setting up

for the representatives of public opinion, interfere too much with the

display of their true sentiments. It is but in Europe--where they are

relieved from these trammels--that they show the natural man, their

_penchant_ for the elegancies of society, their contempt for the poor,

and their toad-eating to the higher classes, in which they even “beat

the English.” It is there they sink the “American citizen,” in order

to become noblemen without pedigrees, and courtiers without manners.

I would therefore recommend to the next English tourist that is going

to publish a work on “American Society,” to visit the courts of Italy

and France rather than the United States. He will there find richer

materials for a satire on American institutions than he would be able

to discover from the State of Maine to Louisiana, and from the broad

Atlantic to the Rocky Mountains. I am only able thus to throw out the

hint, and leave the execution of the plan to a pen abler than my own.

FOOTNOTES:

[30] It is hardly necessary to remark, that Mr. Jefferson, who during

his stay in Europe had ample opportunities of becoming acquainted with

court fashion, affected this _nonchalance_ for a political purpose.

THE END.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY,

Bangor House, Shoe Lane.

Transcriber’s Notes

Punctuation errors have been fixed.

Page vii: “American Opposiion” changed to “American Opposition”