will be necessary to recur to some of its statistical facts. England,
including Wales, contains rather less than fifty-eight thousand
square miles of territory; the state of New York, about forty-three
thousand. On the former surface, there is a population of something
like fifteen millions; on the latter, a population of less than two.
One gives a proportion of about two hundred and sixty to the square
mile, and the other a proportion of less than fifty. These premises,
alone, would show us the immense advantage that any given portion of
surface in England, must possess over the same extent of surface in
America, in all those arts and improvements, that depend on physical
force. If there were ten men of education, and refinement, and
fortune, in a county of New York, of one thousand square miles in
extent, there ought to be more than fifty men of the same character
and means, in an English county of equal territory. This is supposing
that the real premises offer nothing more against us, than the
disproportion between numbers and surface; whereas, in fact, time,
wealth, and an older civilization, more than quadruple the odds. Even
these do not make up the sum of the adverse elements. Though England
has but fifteen millions of souls, the empire she controls has nearly
ten times that population, and a very undue proportion of the results
of so great a physical force, centre in this small spot.
The consideration of these truths suggest several useful heads of
reflection. In the first place, they show us, if not the absolute
impossibility, the great improbability, that the civilization,
refinement, knowledge, wealth, and tastes of even the best portions
of America, can equal those of this country, and suggest the
expediency of looking to either points for our sources of pride.
I have said, that the two countries act under the influence of
moral agencies that are almost the converse of each other. The
condensation of improvement and cultivation is so great here, that
even the base of society is affected by it, even to deportment;
whereas, with us, these properties are so dispersed, as to render
it difficult for those who are lucky enough to possess them, to keep
what they have got, in face of the overshadowing influence of a
lower school, instead of being able to impart them to society. Our
standard, in nearly all things, as it is popular, is necessarily
one of mediocrity; a highly respectable, and, circumstances
considered, a singularly creditable one, but still a mediocrity;
whereas; the condition of these people has enabled them to raise a
standard, which, however much it may be and is wanting in the better
elements of a pure taste, has immensely the advantage of our own,
in most of the obvious blandishments of life. More than half of the
peculiarities of America, peculiarities for which it is usual to seek
a cause in the institutions, simply because they are so peculiar
themselves, are to be traced to facts like these; or, in other words,
to the disproportion between surface and numbers, the want of any
other than commercial towns, and our distance from the rest of the
world.
Every condition of society has its own advantages, and its own
disadvantages. To claim perfection for any one, in particular,
would be to deny the nature of man. Their comparative merits are
to be decided, only, by the comparative gross results, and it is
in this sense, that I contend for the superiority of our own. The
utilitarian school, as it has been popularly construed, is not to my
taste, either, for I believe there is great utility in the grace
and elegance of life, and no one would feel more disposed to resist
a system, in which these essential properties are proscribed. That
we are wanting in both, I am ready to allow; but I think the reason
is to be found in facts entirely independent of the institutions,
and that the time will come, when the civilization of America will
look down that of any other section of the world, if the country can
pass that state of probation, during which it is and will be exposed
to the assaults of secret combinations to destroy it; and during
which, moreover, it is, in an especial degree, liable to be affected
by inherited opinions, and opinions that have been obtained under
a system that has so many of the forms, while it has so few of the
principles of our own, as easily to be confounded with it, by the
ignorant and the unreflecting.
We over-estimate the effects of intelligence, as between ourselves
and the English. The mass of information, here, probably exceeds
that of America, though it is less equally distributed. In _general_
knowledge of a practical nature, too, I think no people can compete
with our own. But there is a species of information, that is both
useful and refining, in which there are few European nations that do
not surpass us. I allude, in particular, to most things that serve
to embellish life. In addition to this superiority, the Europeans
of the better classes very obviously possess over us an important
advantage, in their intimate associations with each other, by which
means they insensibly imbibe a great deal of current knowledge, of
which the similar classes in America are nearly ignorant; or, which,
if known at all, is only known through the medium of books. In the
exhibition of this knowledge, which embraces all that belongs to what
is commonly termed a knowledge of the world, the difference between
the European and the American is the difference to be seen between
the man who has passed all his days in good society, and the man who
has got his knowledge of it from novels and plays.
In a correct estimate of their government, and in an acquaintance
with its general action, the English are much our superiors, though
we know most of details. This arises from the circumstances that
the rights of an Englishman are little more than franchises, which
require no very profound examination to be understood, while those of
the American depend on principles that demand study, and which are
constantly exposed to the antagonist influence of opinions that have
been formed under another system. It is true the English monarchy,
as a monarchy and as it now exists, is a pure mystification, but the
supremacy of parliament being admitted, there can arise no great
difficulty on the score of interpretation. The American system,
moreover, is complicated and double, and the only true Whig and Tory
parties that can exist must have their origin in this circumstance.
To these reasons may be added the general fact, that the educated
Englishman reasons on his institutions like an Englishman only,
while his American counterpart oftener reasons on the institutions of
the republic like an Englishman too, than like an American. A single
fact will show you what I mean, although a hundred might be quoted.
In England the government is composed, in theory, of three bases and
one summit; in America, it is composed of one base and three summits.
In one, there is supposed to be a balance in the powers of the
state; and as this is impossible in practice, it has resulted in a
consolidated authority in its action; in the other, there is but one
power, that of the entire people, and the balance is in the action of
their agents. A very little reflection will show that the maxims of
two such systems ought to be as different as the systems themselves.
The English are to be distinguished from the Americans, by greater
independence of personal habits. Not only the institutions, but the
physical condition of our own country has a tendency to reduce us
all to the same level of usages. The steam-boats, the over-grown
taverns, the speculative character of the enterprises, and the
consequent disposition to do all things in common, aid the tendency
of the system in bringing about such a result. In England a man dines
by himself, in a room filled with other hermits; he eats at his
leisure; drinks his wine in silence; reads the paper by the hour,
and, in all things, encourages his individuality and insists on his
particular humours. The American is compelled to submit to a common
rule; he eats when others eats; sleeps when others sleep; and he is
lucky, indeed, if he can read a paper in a tavern without having a
stranger looking over each shoulder.[20] The Englishman would stare
at a proposal that should invade his habits under the pretence of a
common wish, while the American would be very apt to yield tacitly,
though this common wish should be no more than an impudent assertion
of some one who had contrived to affect his own purposes, under the
popular plea. The Englishman is so much attached to his independence
that he instinctively resists every effort to invade it, and nothing
would be more likely to arouse him than to say the mass thinks
differently from himself; whereas the American ever seems ready
to resign his own opinion to that which is made to seem to be the
opinion of the public. I say _seems_ to be, for so manifest is the
power of public opinion, that one of the commonest expedients of all
American managers, is to create an impression that the public thinks
in a particular way, in order to bring the common mind in subjection.
One often renders himself ridiculous by a foolish obstinacy, and
the other is as often contemptible by a weak compliance. A portion
of what may be called the _community_ of character and habits in
America, is doubtless owing to the rustic nature of its society,
for one more easily maintains his independence in a capital than
in a village, but I think the chief reasons are to be found in the
practice of referring every thing to the common mind.
It is usual to ascribe the solitary and unsocial habits of English
life, to the natural dispositions of the people, but I think
unjustly. The climate is made to bear the blame of no small portion
of this peculiarity. Climate, probably, has an influence on us all,
for we know that we are more elastic, and more ready to be pleased
in a clear bracing air, than in one that is close and _sciroccoish_,
but, on the whole I am led to think, the English owe their habits to
their institutions, more than to any natural causes.
I know no subject, no feeling, nothing, on which an Englishman, as
a rule, so completely loses sight of all the better points of his
character, on which he is so uniformly bigotted and unjust, so ready
to listen to misrepresentation and caricature, and so unwilling to
receive truth, on which, in short, he is so little like himself in
general, as on those connected with America.
As the result of this hasty and imperfect comparison, I am led to
believe, that a national character somewhere between the two, would
be preferable to either, as it is actually found. This may be saying
no more than that man does not exist in a condition of perfection;
but were the inequalities named, pared off from both people, an
ingenious critic might still find faults of sufficient magnitude,
to preserve the identity with the human race, and qualities of
sufficient elevation, to entitle both to be considered among the
greatest and best nations of modern, if not of any other, times.
In most things that pertain to taste, the English have greatly the
advantage of us, though _taste_ is certainly not the strong side of
English character. On this point, alone, one might write a book,
but a very few remarks must now satisfy you. In nothing, however,
is this superiority more apparent, than in their simplicity, and,
particularly, in their simplicity of language. They call a spade, a
spade. I very well know, that neither men nor women, in America, who
are properly educated, and who are accustomed to its really better
tone, differ much, if any, from the English in this particular, but,
in this case, as in most others, in which _national_ peculiarities
are sought, the better tone of America is overshadowed by its
mediocrity.[21] Although I deem the government of this country the
very quintessence of hocus pocus, having scarcely a single practice
that does not violate its theory, I believe that there is more
honesty of public sentiment in England, than in America. The defect
at home, I ascribe, in common with the majority of our national
failings, to the greater activity, and greater _unresisted_ force of
ignorance and cupidity, there, than here. High qualities are nowhere
collected in a sufficient phalanx to present a front to the enemy, in
America.
The besetting, the degrading vice of America, is the moral cowardice
by which men are led to truckle to what is called public opinion;
though this opinion is as inconstant as the winds, though, in all
cases, that enlist the feelings of factions there are _two_, and
sometimes twenty, each differing from all the others, and though,
nine times in ten, these opinions are mere engines set in motion by
the most corrupt and the least respectable portion of the community,
for unworthy purposes. The English are a more respectable and
constant nation than the Americans, as relates to this peculiarity;
probably, because the condensed masses of intelligence and character
enable the superior portion of the community to produce a greater
impression on the inferior, by their collective force. In standing
prejudices, they strike me as being worse than ourselves; but in
passing impressions greatly our superiors.
For the last I have endeavoured to account, and I think the first may
be ascribed to a system that is sustained by errors that it is not
the interest of the more enlightened to remove, but which, instead of
weakening in the ignorant, they rather encourage in themselves.
LETTER XXIX.
TO CAPTAIN B. COOPER, U. S. NAVY.
Having a long-standing engagement to be in Amsterdam, early in June,
we have been compelled to quit London, before the termination of the
season. I could have wished to remain longer, but the force of things
has moved heavier bodies.
Quitting England is, by no means, as easy a matter for a foreigner,
as quitting almost any other European state. I was obliged to go
first to the alien office, which is near Westminster Hall, and then
proceed to the custom-house, a distance of several miles, in order
to get the required permission. If all these forms are necessary,
(and I shall not take it on myself to say they are not) it would save
trouble could every thing be done in the same office, or, at least,
in the same building.
My labours in obtaining the permit to embark, and in taking a
passage, have taught me a secret in relation to the advantage
we possess over the English in sailing ships. The excess of men
causes all occupations to be crowded, and as each _employé_ must
have a livelihood out of his employment, he becomes a charge on
the business. If an Englishman could live on a bit of garlic and
a few chesnuts, this would not be of so much moment; but he is a
beef-eating and a beer-drinking animal, and likes to be neat in
his attire, and the trade is compelled to pay a pretty good price
for his support. Thus when I went on board the steamboat to take
the necessary passage, I was compelled to return to the shore, and
walk, at least, half a mile to an office to effect my purpose. The
person to whom I was referred, received me civilly, but after making
his bow, he put his hands in his pockets, and ordered two or three
clerks to receive my money, enter my name, and do the other necessary
things. In America the captain would do all this himself, and would
find no time to put his hands in his breeches pockets.
You can form no notion, of the intrigues and frauds that are
practised, in these old countries, in the struggles for a
subsistence. Few people of any condition have much direct
communication with their tradesmen, and the buying, as a matter of
course, falls into the hands of servants. A certain per centum is
given the buyer, which the seller adds to the price. This is another
reason why the servant is a personage of more importance in Europe
than with us, for his master’s custom usually depends on _his_
patronage. A case of this sort has occurred under my own immediate
observation. The proprietor of one of the most celebrated vineyards
of France, certain that a vast deal of spurious wine was sold under
the name of his vintages, determined to make an effort to bring the
pure liquor into proper notice, a difficult achievement, by the way,
as the palate once set to even a vicious taste, is as little likely
to relish perfection, as any thing else. My acquaintance determined
to get his wine introduced to the table of the king, at once, as a
certain means of making it known. I dare say, now, you will think he
had nothing to do, but to request some purveyor to consent to let the
liquor be put before his majesty, and to await the issue. So far from
taking this simple course, however, he was advised to make interest
with a lady of rank, in order to induce her to persuade a connexion
of her own, who was one of the most distinguished men of the age, and
had great favour with the king, to present the latter with a case of
the wine, and this, too, in a way that might insure its reaching the
royal mouth. I cannot say whether the experiment failed or succeeded,
but I believe it failed, and most probably through the intrigues of
those interested.
In America we have not yet reached this pass, although a glorious
beginning has commenced in the commercial towns, which, in their way,
are probably as corrupt as any in the world. I have seen abundant
proof of a disposition in the trading part of our community, abroad,
to combine and conspire to attain their ends, without regard to
truth, principles, or justice, and I presume we are to go the way of
all flesh in this, as in other respects.
I have not mentioned the subject, because I believe England more
obnoxious to this charge of management than other European countries,
for probably there is less of it here than elsewhere; certainly much
less than in France; but it naturally suggested itself when I came
to speak of the number of subordinates that are employed in all
matters of business.
Our little preparations were soon made, and, on the appointed day,
we went on board the vessel, which was lying off the custom-house.
As we all stood on deck, just as the boat was about to proceed, the
master came round to ask the foreigners for their permits to quit the
country. “You have no need of one,” he observed to me, in passing. “I
have one, notwithstanding.” The man stared, and asked an explanation
with his eyes. I told him I was a foreigner; an American. “I have
been in America,” he said, “but we hardly look on your countrymen as
foreigners.” There was more of the feeling which prevails in America
towards England in these words and in this man’s manner, than I had
ever before witnessed in England. He proved to be a mild decent man,
and well disposed to introduce some of our improvements into his boat.
We had a party of cocknies on board, who went as far as Gravesend for
the fun of the thing. Great hilarity prevailed under the excitement
of the usual condiments of bread, cheese and porter, and we were not
sorry to be quit of them.
The weather was fine, and the North Sea as smooth as a dish. The
whole night were we paddling through it, and the next morning I
looked out, in vain, for any signs of land. Our boat was a solid,
good vessel, but slow of foot. The construction necessary to
weathering a heavy sea, may cause these boats to make less way than
our own steamers, though those which go round Point Judith and
through the Sound have also need of some of the same qualities. As
between them, I think the American boats usually go three feet to the
English’s two.
At length a low spit of sand hove in sight ahead, with here and there
a tree or a church tower, that appeared to rise out of the water.
This was Holland, a country, that, in the language of seamen, may be
said to be awash. As we drew in nearer with the land, the villages
and towers were actually made as one makes the upper sails of a
ship before the hull. When fairly between the islands, by going up
a few rattlins in the rigging, I got a glimpse of meadows that lay
beneath the level of tide, from whose inroads they were protected by
embankments. The whole country reminded me of a ship with its dead
lights in.
I saw a wagon rattling along a causeway, and it was a _fac simile_
of the wagons that go under the name of Dutch wagons in New York,
even to the curvature of the side boards. The only difference I could
perceive was in the fact that this had no tongue! The country is so
level, that holding back is unnecessary, and a short crooked tiller,
that is worked by the foot of the teamster answers the purpose of
guiding the vehicle. This was Dutch economy, with a vengeance,
for the difference in cost could not exceed a guilder, and the
difference in security, time and comfort, must be worth twenty. You
will easily understand, that when it becomes necessary to stop one of
these crafts, sail must be shortened in season, or the momentum would
send the whole on the heels of the horses.
Presently, we got a sight of the steeples of Rotterdam, which were
well relieved by trees. The verdure was oppressive, for the landscape
resembled one seen through a bit of green glass. The boat was soon
along side of the Boom Key, and we were all marched off in a body to
have our trunks examined. Mine were merely opened and closed again.
The passport was glanced at, and we were dismissed to a hotel. Before
we entered the latter I had time to look about me, and to see a
hundred things that recalled Albany and New York as they appeared in
their palmy Dutch condition.
Here, then, we take our leave of England for a time;—England, a
country that I could fain like, but whose prejudices and national
antipathies throw a chill over all my affections; a country that
unquestionably stands at the head of civilization in a thousand
things, but which singularly exemplifies a truth that we all
acknowledge, or how much easier it is to possess great and useful,
and even noble qualities, than it is to display those that are
attractive and winning—a country that all respect, but few love.
THE END.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The present Duke of Sutherland.
[2] In speaking of personal peculiarities, the writer thinks he has
had sufficient care not to wound the parties. His knowledge of Mrs.
Siddons does not extend farther than an evening’s observation of her
mere exterior, but she is removed beyond the reach of his opinion,
did it apply to things more essential. Of the persons collected
around the table of Mr. Rogers, on the day in question, Sir Walter
Scott, Miss Scott, Sir James Macintosh, Mr. Sharp, and Mr. Jekyll,
are, also, already dead!
[3] The recent improvements in this part of the town, have caused the
house to be pulled down, and it is probable the new avenue, which
leads from the new London bridge to the Royal Exchange, and which, in
1833, promised to make this one of the finest parts of the town, will
have obliterated every sign of its site.
[4] The Examiner, since 1828, has passed into new hands, and,
although little accustomed to see the paper itself, the writer was
in the constant habit of reading extracts from it, in Galignani’s
Messenger. Taking these as specimens of its merit, he is of opinion
that for vigour, consistency, truth, and distinctness of thought, and
for pungent and manly reasoning, this journal stands at the very head
of this species of literature.