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we have just seen so lamentable a representa- | laws, than which none more just and perfect has

tion. The whole passage is too long for insertion; but the following extracts will afford a sufficient specimen of its tone and tenor.

"A peculiar masculine character, and the utmost energy of feeling are communicated to all orders of men, by the abundance which prevails so universally, the consciousness of equal rights, the fulness of power and frame to which the nation has attained, and the beauty and robustness of the species under a climate highly favourable to the animal economy. The dignity of the rich is without insolence, the subordination of the poor without servility. Their freedom is well guarded both from the dangers of popular licentiousness, and from the encroachments of authority. Their national pride leads to national sympathy, and is built upon the most legitimate of all foundations-a sense of pre-eminent merit and a body of illustrious annals.

ever been in operation; their seminaries of educa tion yielding more solid and profitable instruction than any other whatever; their eminence in literature and science-the urbanity and learning of their illustrated by so many profound statesmen, and privileged orders-their deliberative assemblies, brilliant orators. It is worse than Ingratitude in US not to sympathise with them in their present struggle, when we recollect that it is from them we derive the principal merit of our own CHARACTER the best of our own institutions-the sources of our highest enjoyments-and the light of Freedom itself, which, if they should be destroyed, will not long shed its radiance over this country."

What will Mr. Walsh say to this picture of the country he has so laboured to degrade ?— and what will our readers say, when they are told that MR. WALSH HIMSELF is the author of this picture!

"Whatever may be the representations of those So, however, the fact unquestionably stands. who, with little knowledge of facts, and still less-The book from which we have made the soundness or impartiality of judgment, affect to de- preceding extracts, was written and published, plore the condition of England,-it is nevertheless in 1810, by the very same individual who has true, that there does not exist, and never has existed elsewhere, so beautiful and perfect a model now recriminated upon England in the volof public and private prosperity,- -so magnificent, ume which lies before us,-and in which he and at the same time, so solid a fabric of social hap- is pleased to speak with extreme severity of piness and national grandeur. I pay this just tri- the inconsistencies he has detected in our Rebute of admiration with the more pleasure, as it is view!-That some discordant or irreconcileto me in the light of an Atonement for the errors able opinions should be found in the miscel and prejudices, under which I laboured, on this sub-laneous writing of twenty years, and thirty or ject, before I enjoyed the advantage of a personal experience. A residence of nearly two years in that country, during which period, I visited and studied almost every part of it,-with no other view or pursuit than that of obtaining correct information, and, I may add, with previous studies well fitted to promote my object,-convinced me that I had been egregiously deceived. I saw no instances of individual oppression, and scarcely any individual misery but that which belongs, under any circumstances of our being, to the infirmity of all human

institutions."—

The agriculture of England is confessedly su: perior to that of any other part of the world, and the condition of those who are engaged in the cultivation of the soil, incontestibly preferable to that of the same class in any other section of Europe. An inexhaustible source of admiration and delight is found in the unrivalled beauty, as well as richness and fruitfulness of their husbandry; the effects of which are heightened by the magnificent parks and noble mansions of the opulent proprietors: by picturesque gardens upon the largest scale, and disposed with the most exquisite taste: and by Gothic remains no less admirable in their structure than venerable for their antiquity. The neat cottage, the substantial farm-house, the splendid villa, are constantly rising to the sight, surrounded by the most choice and poetical attributes of the landscape. The vision is not more delightfully recreated by the rural scenery, than the moral sense is gratified, and the understanding elevated by the institutions of this great country. The first and continued exclamation of an American who contemplates them with unbiassed judgment, is

Salve! magna Parens frugum, Saturnia tellus!
Magna virum.

"It appears something not less than Impious to desire the ruin of this people, when you view the height to which they have carried the comforts, the knowledge, and the virtue of our species: the extent and number of their foundations of charity; their skill in the mechanic arts, by the improvement of which alone they have conferred inestimable benefits on mankind; the masculine morality, the lofty sense of independence, the sober and rational piety which are found in all classes; their impartial, decorous, and able administration of a code of

forty individuals under no effective control, may easily be imagined, and pardoned, we should think, without any great stretch of liberality. But such a transmutation of senti. ments on the same identical subject—such a reversal of the poles of the same identical head, we confess has never before come under our observation; and is parallel to nothing that we can recollect, but the memorable transformation of Bottom, in the Midsummer Night's Dream. Nine years, to be sure, had intervened between the first and the second publication. But all the guilt and all the misery which is so diligently developed in the last, had been contracted before the first was thought of; and all the injuries, and provocations too, by which the exposition of them has lately become a duty. Mr. W. knew perfectly, in 1810, how England had behaved to her American colonies before the war of independence, and in what spirit she had begun and carried on that war:

our Poor-rates and taxes, our bull-baitings and swindlings, were then nearly as visible as now. Mr. Colquhoun, had, before that time, put forth his Political Estimate of our prostitutes and pickpockets; and the worthy Laureate his authentic Letters on the bad state of our parliaments and manufactures. Nay, the EDINBURGH REVIEW had committed the worst of those offences which now make hatred to England the duty of all true Americans, and had expressed little of that zeal for her friendship which appears in its subsequent Numbers. The Reviews of the American Transactions, and Mr. Barlow's Epic, of Adams' Letters, and Marshall's History, had all appeared before this time-and but very few of the articles in which the future greatness of that country is predicted, and her singular prosperity extolled.

How then is it to be accounted for, that Mr. W. should have taken such a favourable view

of our state and merits in 1810, and so very different a one in 1819? There is but one explanation that occurs to us. - Mr. W., as appears from the passages just quoted, had been originally very much of the opinion to which he has now returned-For he tells us, that he considers the tribute of admiration which he there offers to our excellence, as an Atonement, for the errors and prejudices under which he laboured till he came among us,and hints pretty plainly, that he had formerly been ungrateful enough to disown all obligation to our race, and impious enough even to wish for our ruin. Now, from the tenor of the work before us, compared with these passages, it is pretty plain, we think, that Mr. W. has just relapsed into those damnable heresies, which we fear are epidemic in his part of the country-and from which nothing is so likely to deliver him, as a repetition of the same remedy by which they were formerly removed. Let him come again then to England, and try the effect of a second course of "personal experience and observation"-let himn make another pilgrimage to Mecca, and observe whether his faith is not restored and confirmed -let him, like the Indians of his own world, visit the Tombs of his Fathers in the old land, and see whether he can there abjure the friendship of their other children? If he will venture himself among us for another two years' residence, we can promise him that he will find in substance the same England that he left:-Our laws and our landscapes-our industry and urbanity;-our charities, our learning, and our personal beauty, he will find unaltered and unimpaired ;—and we think we can even engage, that he shall find also a still greater "correspondence of feeling in the body of our People," and not a less disposition to welcome an accomplished stranger who comes to get rid of errors and prejudices, and to learn -or, if he pleases, to teach, the great lessons of a generous and indulgent philanthropy.

We have done, however, with this topic.We have a considerable contempt for the argumentum ad hominem in any case-and have no desire to urge it further at present. The truth is, that neither of Mr. W.'s portraitures of us appears to be very accurate. We are painted en beau in the one, and en laid in the other. The particular traits in each may be given with tolerable truth-but the whole truth most certainly is to be found in neither; and it will not even do to take them together -any more than it would do to make a correct likeness, by patching or compounding together a flattering portrait and a monstrous caricature. We have but a word or two, indeed, to add on the general subject, before we take a final farewell of this discussion.

We admit, that many of the charges which Mr. W. has here made against our country, are justly made and that for many of the things with which he has reproached us, there is just cause of reproach. It would be strange, indeed, if we were to do otherwise-considering that it is from our pages that he has on many occasions borrowed the charge and the reproach. If he had stated them, therefore,

with any degree of fairness or temper, and had not announced that they were brought forward as incentives to hostility and national alienation, we should have been so far from complaining of him, that we should have been heartily thankful for the services of such an auxiliary in our holy war against vice and corruption; and rejoiced to obtain the testimony of an impartial observer, in corroboration of our own earnest admonitions. Even as it is, we are inclined to think that this exposition of our infirmities will rather do good than harm, so far as it produces any effect at all, in this country. Among our national vices, we have long reckoned an insolent and overweening opinion of our own universal superiority; and though it really does not belong to America to reproach us with this fault, and though the ludicrous exaggeration of Mr. W.'s charge is sure very greatly to weaken his authority, still such an alarming catalogue of our faults and follies may have some effect, as a wholesome mortification of our vanity.It is with a view to its probable effect in his own country, and to his avowal of the effect he wishes it to produce there, that we consider it as deserving of all reprobation;—and therefore beg leave to make one or two very short remarks on its manifest injustice, and indeed absurdity, in so far as relates to ourselves, and that great majority of the country whom we believe to concur in our sentiments. The object of this violent invective on England is, according to the author's own admission, to excite a spirit of animosity in America, to meet and revenge that which other invectives on our part are said to indicate here; and also to show the flagrant injustice and malignity of the said invectives:-And this is the shape of the argument-What right have you to abuse us for keeping and whipping slaves, when you yourselves whip your soldiers, and were so slow to give up your slave trade, and use your subjects so ill in India and Ireland?

or what right have you to call our Marshall a dull historian, when you have a Belsham and a Gifford who are still duller? Now, though this argument would never show that whipping slaves was a right thing, or that Mr. Marshall was not a dull writer, it might be a very smart and embarrassing retort to these among us who had defended our slave trade or our military floggings, or our treatment of Ireland and India-or who had held out Messrs. Belsham and Gifford as pattern historians, and ornaments of our national literature. But what meaning or effect can it have when addressed to those who have always testified against the wickedness and the folly of the practices complained of? and who have treated the Ultra-Whig and the Ultra-Tory historian with equal scorn and reproach? We have a right to censure cruelty and dulness abroad, because we have censured them with more and more frequent severity at home--and their home existence, though it may prove indeed that our censures have not yet been effectual in producing amendment, can afford no sort of reason for not extending them where they might be more attended to.

Го

We have generally blamed what we thought | against them, and feeling grateful to any worthy of blame in America, without any ex-reign auxiliary who will help us to reason, t press reference to parallel cases in England, rail, or to shame our countrymen out of them. or any invidious comparisons. Their books are willing occasionally to lend a similar as we have criticised just as should have done sistance to others, and speak freely and fairly those of any other country; and in speaking of what appear to us to be the faults and ermore generally of their literature and man- rors, as well as the virtues and merits, of all ners, we have rather brought them into com- who may be in any way affected by our ob petition with those of Europe in general, than servations;-or Mr. Walsh, who will admit so those of our own country in particular. When faults in his own country, and no good quali we have made any comparative estimate of our ties in ours-sets down the mere extension own advantages and theirs, we can say with of our domestic censures to their corresponding confidence, that it has been far oftener in their objects abroad, to the score of national rancour favour than against them;—and, after repeat- and partiality; and can find no better use for edly noticing their preferable condition as to those mutual admonitions, which should lead taxes, elections, sufficiency of employment, to mutual amendment or generous emulation, public economy, freedom of publication, and than to improve them into occasions of mutual many other points of paramount importance, animosity and deliberate hatred ? it surely was but fair that we should notice, in their turn, those merits or advantages which might reasonably be claimed for ourselves, and bring into view our superiority in eminent authors, and the extinction and annihilation of slavery in every part of our realm.

This extreme impatience, even of merited blame from the mouth of a stranger-this still more extraordinary abstinence from any hint or acknowledgment of error on the part of her intelligent defender, is a trait too remarkable not to call for some observation-and We would also remark, that while we have we think we can see in it one of the worst and thus praised America far more than we have most unfortunate consequences of a republican blamed her and reproached ourselves far government. It is the misfortune of Sovemore bitterly than we have ever reproached reigns in general, that they are fed with flather, Mr. W., while he affects to be merely tery till they loathe the wholesome truth, and following our example, has heaped abuse on come to resent, as the bitterest of all offences, us without one grain of commendation-and any insinuation of their errors, or intimation praised his own country extravagantly, with- of their dangers. But of all sovereigns, the out admitting one fault or imperfection. Now, Sovereign People is most obnoxious to this corthis is not a fair way of retorting the proceed-ruption, and most fatally injured by its prevaings, even of the Quarterly; for they have lence. In America, every thing depends on occasionally given some praise to America, their suffrages, and their favour and support; and have constantly spoken ill enough of the and accordingly it would appear, that they are paupers, and radicals, and reformers of Eng- pampered with constant adulation, from the land. But as to us, and the great body of the rival suitors to their favour-so that no one nation which thinks with us, it is a proceeding will venture to tell them of their faults; and without the colour of justice or the shadow moralists, even of the austere character of of apology-and is not a less flagrant_indica- Mr. W., dare not venture to whisper a syllable tion of impatience or bad humour, than the to their prejudice. It is thus, and thus only, marvellous assumption which runs through that we can account for the strange sensitivethe whole argument, that it is an unpardon-ness which seems to prevail among them on able insult and an injury to find any fault with any thing in America,-must necessarily proceed from national spite and animosity, and affords, whether true or false, sufficient reason for endeavouring to excite a corresponding animosity against our nation. Such, however, is the scope and plan of Mr. W.'s whole work. Whenever he thinks that his country has been erroneously accused, he points out the error with sufficient keenness and asperity;-but when he is aware that the imputation is just and unanswerable, instead of joining his rebuke or regret to those of her foreign censors, he turns fiercely and vindictively on the parallel infirmities of this country-as if those also had not been marked with reprobation, and without admitting that the censure was merited, or hoping that it might work amendment, complains in the bitterest terms of malignity, and arouses his country to revenge!

Which, then, we would ask, is the most fair and reasonable, or which the most truly patriotic?-We, who, admitting our own manifold faults and corruptions, testifying loudly

the lightest sound of disapprobation, and for the acrimony with which, what would pass anywhere else for very mild admonitions, are repelled and resented. It is obvious, however, that nothing can be so injurious to the character either of an individual or a nation, as this constant and paltry cockering of praise and that the want of any native censor, makes it more a duty for the moralists of other countries to take them under their charge, and let them know now and then what other people think and say of them.

We are anxious to part with Mr. W. in good humour;-but we must say that we rather wish he would not go on with the work he has begun-at least if it is to be pursued in the spirit which breathes in the part now before us. Nor is it so much to his polemic and vindictive tone that we object, as this tendency to adulation, this passionate, vapouring, thetorical style of amplifying and exaggerating the felicities of his country. In point of talent and knowledge and industry, we have no doubt that he is eminently qualified for the task-(though we must tell him that he does

not write so well now as when he left England)-but no man will ever write a book of authority on the institutions and resources of his country, who does not add some of the virtues of a Censor to those of a Patriot-or rather, who does not feel, that the noblest, as well as the most difficult part of patriotism is that which prefers his country's Good to its Favour, and is more directed to reform its vices, than to cherish the pride of its virtues. With foreign nations, too, this tone of fondness and self-admiration is always suspected; and most commonly ridiculous-while calm and steady claims of merit, interspersed with acknowledgments of faults, are sure to obtain credit, and to raise the estimation both of the writer and of his country. The ridicule, too, which naturally attaches to this vehement selflaudation, must insensibly contract a darker shade of contempt, when it comes to be sus-, pected that it does not proceed from mere honest vanity, but from a poor fear of giving offence to power-sheer want of courage, in short (in the wiser part at least of the population), to let their foolish AHMOΣ know what in their hearts they think of him

And now we must at length close this very long article-the very length and earnestness of which, we hope, will go some way to satisfy our American brethren of the importance we

attach to their good opinion, and the anxiety we feel to prevent any national repulsion from being aggravated by a misapprehension of our sentiments, or rather of those of that great body of the English nation of which we are here the organ. In what we have now written, there may be much that requires explanation and much, we fear, that is liable to misconstruction.-The spirit in which it is written, however, cannot, we think, be misunderstood. We cannot descend to little cavils and altercations; and have no leisure to maintain a controversy about words and phrases. We have an unfeigned respect and affection for the free people of America; and we mean honestly to pledge ourselves for that of the better part of our own country. We are very proud of the extensive circulation of our Journal in that great country, and the importance that is there attached to it. But we should be undeserving of this favour, if we could submit to seek it by any mean practices, either of flattery or of dissimulation; and feel persuaded that we shall not only best deserve, but most surely obtain, the confidence and respect of Mr. W. and his countrymen, by speaking freely what we sincerely think of them, and treating them exactly as we treat that nation to which we are here accused of being too favourable.

(November, 1822.)

Bracebridge Hall; or, the Humorists. By GEOFFREY CRAYON, Gent. Author of "The Sketch Book," &c. 2 vols. 8vo. pp. 800. Murray. London: 1822.*

We have received so much pleasure from this book, that we think ourselves bound in gratitude, as well as justice, to make a public acknowledgment of it,—and seek to repay, by a little kind notice, the great obligations we shall ever feel to the author. These amiable sentiments, however, we fear, will scarcely furnish us with materials for an interesting article-and we suspect we have not much else to say, that has not already occurred to most of our readers-or, indeed, been said by ourselves with reference to his former publication. For nothing in the world can be so complete as the identity of the author in these two productions-identity not of style merely and character, but of merit also, both in kind and degree, and in the sort and extent of popularity which that merit has created-not merely the same good sense and the same good humour directed to the same good ends, and

My heart is still so much in the subject of the preceding paper, that I am tempted to add this to it; chiefly for the sake of the powerful backing which my English exhortation to amity among brethren, is there shown to have received from the most amiable and elegant of American writers. I had said nearly the same things in a previous review of "The Sketch Book," and should have reprinted that article also, had it not been made up chiefly of extracts, with which I do not think it quite fair to fill up this publication.

with the same happy selection and limited variety, but the same proportion of things that seem scarcely to depend on the individual— the same luck, as well as the same labour, and an equal share of felicities to enhance the fair returns of judicious industry. There are few things, we imagine, so rare as this sustained level of excellence in the works of a popular writer-or, at least, if it does exist now and then in rerum natura, there is scarcely any thing that is so seldom allowed. When an author has once gained a large share of public attention,-when his name is once up among a herd of idle readers, they can never be brought to believe that one who has risen so far can ever remain stationary. In their estimation, he must either rise farther, or begin immediately to descend; so that, when he ventures before these prepossessed judges with a new work, it is always discovered, either that he has infinitely surpassed himself, or, in the far greater number of cases, that there is a sad falling off, and that he is hastening to the end of his career. In this way it may in general be presumed, that an author who is admitted by the public not to have fallen off in a second work, has in reality improved upon his first; and has truly proved his title to a higher place, by merely maintaining that which he had formerly

earned. We would not have Mr. Crayon, parasites who are in raptures with every body however, plume himself too much upon this sage observation: for though we, and other great lights of public judgment, have decided that his former level has been maintained in this work with the most marvellous precision, we must whisper in his ear that the million are not exactly of that opinion; and that the common buzz among the idle and impatient critics of the drawing-room is, that, in comparison with the Sketch Book, it is rather monotonous and languid; and there is too little variety of characters for two thick volumes; and that the said few characters come on so often, and stay so long, that the gentlest reader detects himself in rejoicing at being done with them. The premises of this enthymem we do not much dispute; but the conclusion, for all that, is wrong For, in spite of these defects, Bracebridge Hall is quite as good as the Sketch Book; and Mr. C. may take comfort,—if he is humble enough to be comforted with such an assurance-and trust to us that it will be quite as popular, and that he still holds his own with the efficient body of his English readers.

The great charm and peculiarity of this work consists now, as on former occasions, in the singular sweetness of the composition, and the mildness of the sentiments,-sicklied over perhaps a little, now and then, with that cloying heaviness into which unvaried sweetness is too apt to subside. The rythm and melody of the sentences is certainly excessive: As it not only gives an air of mannerism, from its uniformity, but raises too strong an impression of the labour that must have been bestowed, and the importance which must have been attached to that which is, after all, but a secondary attribute to good writing. It is very ill-natured in us, however, to object to what has given us so much pleasure; for we happen to be very intense and sensitive admirers of those soft harmonies of studied speech in which this author is so apt to indulge; and have caught ourselves, oftener than we shall confess, neglecting his excellent matter, to lap ourselves in the liquid music of his periods and letting ourselves float passively down the mellow falls and windings of his soft-flowing sentences, with a delight not inferior to that which we derive from fine versification.

We should reproach ourselves still more, however, and with better reason, if we were to persist in the objection which we were also at first inclined to take, to the extraordinary kindliness and disarming gentleness of all this author's views and suggestions; and we only refer to it now, for the purpose of answering, and discrediting it, with any of our readers to whom also it may happen to have occurred. It first struck us as an objection to the author's courage and sincerity. It was quite unnatural, we said to ourselves, for any body to be always on such very amiable terms with his fellow-creatures; and this air of eternal philanthropy could be nothing but a pretence put on to bring himself into favour; and then we proceeded to assimilate him to those silken

they meet, and ingratiate themselves in gere ral society by an unmanly suppression of al honest indignation, and a timid avoidance of all subjects of disagreement. Upon due consideration, however, we are now satisfied that this was an unjust and unworthy interpret tion. An author who comes deliberately te fore the public with certain select monologors of doctrine and discussion, is not at all in the condition of a man in common society; o whom various overtures of baseness and folly are daily obtruded, and to whose sense and honour appeals are perpetually made, which must be manfully answered, as honour and conscience suggest. The author, on the other hand, has no questions to answer, and no society to select: his professed object is to instruct and improve the world-and his real one, if he is tolerably honest, is nothing worse than to promote his own fame and fortune by succeeding in that which he professes. Now, there are but two ways that we have ever heard of by which men may be improvedeither by cultivating and encouraging the amiable propensities, or by shaming an frightening them out of those that are vicious: and there can be but little doubt, we should imagine, which of the two offices is the highest and most eligible-since the one is left in a great measure to Hell and the hangman.— and for the other, we are taught chiefly to look to Heaven, and all that is angelic upon earth. The most perfect moral discipline would be that, no doubt, in which both were combined; but one is generally as much as human energy is equal to; and, in fact, they have commonly been divided in practice, without surmise of blame. And truly, if men have been hailed as great public benefactors, merely for having beat tyrants into moderation, or coxcombs into good manners, we must be permitted to think, that one whose vocation is different may be allowed to have deserved well of his kind, although he should have confined his efforts to teaching them mutual charity and forbearance, and only sought to repress their evil passions, by strengthening the springs and enlarging the sphere of those that are generous and kindly.

The objection in this general form, therefore, we soon found could not be maintained: -But, as we still felt a little secret spite lingering within us at our author's universal affability, we set about questioning ourselves more strictly as to its true nature and tendency; and think we at last succeeded in tracing it to an eager desire to see so powerful a pen and such great popularity employed in demolishing those errors and abuses to which we had been accustomed to refer most of the unhappiness of our country. Though we love his gentleness and urbanity on the whole, we should have been very well pleased to see him a little rude and surly, now and then, to our particular opponents; and could not but think it showed a want of spirit and discrimi nation that he did not mark his sense of their demerits, by making them an exception to his general system of toleration and indulgence.

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