Part 5

After breakfast, went to church with my father: on our way thither-ward met the Doctor, and the Doctor's friend, and Mr. ----, to whom I have taken an especial fancy. The church we went to is situated half way between the Battery and our hotel. It is like a chapel in the exterior, being quite plain, and standing close in among the houses; the interior was large and perfectly simple. The town is filling, and the church was well attended. 'Tis long since I have heard the church service so well read; with so few vices of pronunciation, or vulgarisms of emphasis. Our own clergy are shamefully negligent in this point; and if Chesterfield's maxim be a good one in all cases, which it is, surely in the matter of the service of God's house 'tis doubly so; they lose an immense advantage, too, by their slovenly and careless way of delivering the prayers, which are in themselves so beautiful, so eloquent, so full of the very spirit of devotion; that whereas, now, a congregation seems but to follow their leader, in gabbling them over as they do, were they solemnly, devoutly, and impressively read, many would feel and understand, what they now repeat mechanically, without attaching one idea to the words they utter. There was no clerk to assist in the service, and the congregation were as neglectful of the directions in the prayer-book, and as indolent and remiss in uttering the responses, as they are in our own churches; indeed, the absence of the clerk made the inaudibility of the congregation's portion of the service more palpable than it is with us. The organ and chanting were very good; infinitely superior to the performances of those blessed little parish cherubim, who monopolise the praises of God in our churches, so much to the suffering of all good Christians not favoured with deafness. The service is a little altered--all prayers for our King, Queen, House of Lords, Parliament, etc., of course omitted: in lieu of which, they pray for the President and all existing authorities. Sundry repetitions of the Lord's Prayer, and other passages, were left out; they correct our English, too, substituting the more modern phraseology of _those_, for the dear old-fashioned _them_, which our prayer-book uses: as, "spare thou _those_, O God," instead of "spare thou _them_, O God, which confess their faults." Wherever the word wealth occurs, too, these zealous purists, connecting that word with no idea but dollars and cents, have replaced it by a term more acceptable to their comprehension,--prosperity,--therefore they say, "In all time of our prosperity (_i. e._ wealth), in all time of our tribulation," etc. I wonder how these gentlemen interpret the word commonwealth, or whether, in the course of their reading, they ever met with the word deprived of the final _th_; and if so, what they imagined it meant.[6] Our prayers were desired for some one putting out to sea; and a very touching supplication to that effect was read, in which I joined with all my heart. The sermon would have been good, if it had been squeezed into half the compass it occupied; it was upon the subject of the late terrible visitations with which God has tried the world, and was sensibly and well delivered, only it had "damnable iteration." The day was like an oven; after church, came home. Mr. ---- called, also Mr. ----, the Boston manager, who is longer than any human being I ever saw. Presently after, a visit from "his honour the Recorder," a twaddling old lawyer by the name of ----, and a silent young gentleman, his son. They were very droll. The lawyer talked the most; at every half sentence, however, quoting, complimenting, or appealing to "his honour the Recorder," a little, good-tempered, turnippy-looking man, who called me a female; and who, the other assured me, was the _Chesterfieldian_ of New York (I don't know precisely what that means): what fun! Again I had an opportunity of perceiving how thorough a chimera the equality is, that we talk of as American. "There's no such thing," with a vengeance! Here they were, talking of their aristocracy and democracy; and I'm sure, if nothing else bore testimony to the inherent love of _higher things_ which I believe exists in every human creature, the way in which the lawyer dwelt upon the Duke of Montrose, lo whom, in Scotch kindred, he is allied at the distance of some miles, and Lady Loughborough, whom Heaven knows how he got hold of, would have satisfied me, that a my Lord, or my Lady, are just as precious in the eyes of these levellers, as in those of Lord and Lady-loving John Bull himself. They staid pottering a long time. One thing his "honour the Recorder" told me, which I wish lo remember: that the only way of preserving universal suffrage from becoming the worst of abuses, was of course to educate the people,[7] for which purpose a provision is made by government. Thus: a grant of land is given, the revenue of which being estimated, the population of the State are taxed to precisely the same amount; thus furnishing, between the government and the people, an equal sum for the education of all classes.[8] I do nothing but look out of window all the blessed day long: I did not think in my old age to acquire so Jezebel a trick; but the park (as they entitle the green opposite our windows) is so very pretty, and the streets so gay, with their throngs of smartly-dressed women, and so amusing with their abundant proportion of black and white caricatures, that I find my window the most entertaining station in the world. Read Salmonia: the natural-history part of it is curious and interesting; but the local descriptions are beyond measure tantalising; and the "bites," five thousand times more so. Our ship-mate, Mr. ----, called: I was glad to see him. Poor man! how we did _reel_ him off his legs to be sure,--what fun it was! My father dined out: D---- and I dined _tête-à-tête_. Poor D---- has not been well to-day: she is dreadfully bitten by the musquitoes, which, I thank their discrimination, have a thorough contempt for me, and have not come near me: the only things that bother me are little black ants, which I find in my wash-hand basin, and running about in all directions. I think the quantity of fruit brings them into the houses. After dinner, sat looking at the blacks parading up and down; most of them in the height of the fashion, with every colour in the rainbow about them. Several of the black women I saw pass had very fine figures (the women here appear to me to be remarkably small, my own being, I should think, the average height); but the contrast of a bright blue or pink crape bonnet, with the black face, white teeth, and glaring blue whites of the eyes, is beyond description grotesque. The carriages here are all, to my taste, very ugly; hung very high from the ground, and of all manner of ungainly old-fashioned shapes. Now this is where, I think, the Americans are to be quarrelled with: they are beginning at a time when all other nations are arrived at the highest point of perfection, in all matters conducive to the comfort and elegance of life: they go into these countries; into France, into our own dear little snuggery, from whence they might bring models of whatever was most excellent, and give them to their own manufacturers, to imitate or improve upon. When I see these awkward uncomfortable vehicles swinging through the streets, and think of the beauty, the comfort, the strength, and lightness of our English-built carriages and cabs, I am much surprised at the want of emulation and enterprise, which can be satisfied with inferiority, when equality, if not superiority, would be so easy.[9] At seven o'clock, D---- and I walked out together. The evening was very beautiful, and we walked as far as Canal Street and back. During our promenade, two fire-engines passed us, attended by the usual retinue of shouting children; this is about the sixth fire since yesterday evening. They are so frequent here, that the cry "Fire, fire!" seems to excite neither alarm nor curiosity, and except the above-mentioned pains-taking juveniles, none of the inhabitants seem in the least disturbed by it.[10] We prosecuted our walk down to the Battery, but just as we reached it we had to return, as 'twas tea-time. I was sorry: the whole scene was most lovely. The moon shone full upon the trees and intersecting walks of the promenade, and threw a bright belt of silver along the water's edge. The fresh night wind came over the broad estuary, rippling it, and stirring the boughs with its delicious breath. A building, which was once a fort from whence the Americans fired upon our ships, is now turned into a sort of _café_, and was brilliantly lighted with coloured lamps, shining among the trees, and reflected in the water. The whole effect was pretty, and very Parisian. We came home, and had tea, after which Mr. ---- came in. He told us, that we must not walk alone at night, for that we might get spoken to; and that a friend of his, seeing us go out without a man, had followed us the whole way, in order to see that nothing happened to us: this was very civil. Played and sang, and strove to make that stupid lad sing, but he was shy, and would not open his mouth even the accustomed hair's-breadth. At about eleven he went away; and we came to bed at twelve.

_Monday, 10th._

Rose at eight. After breakfast wrote journal, and practised for an hour. ---- called. I remember taking a great fancy to him about eight years ago, when I was a little girl in Paris; but, mercy, how he is aged! I wonder whether I am beginning to look old yet, for it seems to me that all the world's in wrinkles. My father went out with him. Read a canto in Dante; also read through a volume of Bryant's poetry, which Mr. ---- had lent us, to introduce us to the American Parnassus. I liked a great deal of it very well; and I liked the pervading spirit of it much more, which appears to me hopeful and bright, and what the spirit of a poet should be; for in spite of all De Staël's sayings, and Byron's doings, I hold that melancholy is _not_ essentially the nature of a poet. Though instances may be adduced of great poets whose Helicon has been but a bitter well of tears, yet, in itself, the spirit of poetry appears to me to be too strong, too bright, too full of the elements of beauty and of excellence, too full of God's own nature, to be dark or desponding; and though from the very fineness of his mental constitution a poet shall suffer more intensely from the baseness and the bitterness which are the leaven of life, yet he, of all men, the most possesses the power to discover truth, and beauty, and goodness, where they do exist; and where they exist not, to create them. If the clouds of existence are darker, its sunshine is also brighter to him; and while others, less gifted, lose themselves in the labyrinth of life, his spirit should throw light upon the darkness, and he should walk in peace and faith over the stormy waters, and through the uncertain night; standing as 'twere above the earth, he views with clearer eyes its mysteries; he finds in apparent discord glorious harmony, and to him the sum of all is good; for, in God's works, good still abounds to the subjection of evil. 'Tis this trustful spirit that seems to inspire Bryant, and to me, therefore, his poetry appears essentially good. There is not much originality in it. I scarce think there can be, in poems so entirely descriptive: his descriptions are very beautiful, but there is some sameness in them, and he does not escape self-repetition; but I am a bad critic, for which I thank God! I know the tears rolled down my cheeks more than once as I read; I know that agreeable sensations and good thoughts were suggested by what I read; I thought some of it beautiful, and all of it wholesome (in contradistinction to the literature of this age), and I was well pleased with it altogether. Afterwards read a sort of satirical burlesque, called "Fanny," by Hallek: the wit being chiefly confined to local allusions and descriptions of New York manners, I could not derive much amusement from it.

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When my father came home, went with him to call on Mrs. ----. What I saw of the house appeared to me very pretty, and well adapted to the heat of the season. A large and lofty room, paved with India matting, and furnished with white divans, and chairs, no other furniture encumbering or cramming it up; it looked very airy and cool. Our hostess did not put herself much out of the way to entertain us, but after the first "how do you do," continued conversing with another visiter, leaving us to the mercy of a very pretty young lady, who carried on the conversation at an average of a word every three minutes. Neither Mr. ---- nor his eldest daughter were at home; the latter, however, presently came in, and relieved her sister and me greatly. We sat the proper time, and then came away.

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This is a species of intercourse I love not any where. I never practised it in my own blessed land, neither will I here. We dined at six: after dinner played and sang till eight, and then walked out with D---- and my father, by the most brilliant moonlight in the world. We went down to the Battery; the aquatic Vauxhall was lighted up very gaily, and they were sending up rockets every few minutes, which, shooting athwart the sky, threw a bright stream of light over the water, and, falling back in showers of red stars, seemed to sink away before the steadfast shining of the moon, who held high supremacy in heaven. The bay lay like molten silver under her light, and every now and then a tiny skiff, emerging from the shade, crossed the bright waters, its dark hull and white sails relieved between the shining sea and radiant sky. Came home at nine, tea'd and sat embroidering till twelve o'clock, industrious little me.

_Tuesday, 11th._

This day week we landed in New York; and this day was its prototype, rainy, dull, and dreary; with occasional fits of sunshine, and light delicious air, as capricious as a fine lady. After breakfast, Colonel ---- called. Wrote journal, and practised till one o'clock. My father then set off with Colonel ---- for Hoboken, a place across the water, famous once for duelling, but now the favourite resort of a turtle-eating club, who go there every Tuesday to cook and swallow turtle. The day was as bad as a party of pleasure could expect, (and when were their expectations of bad weather disappointed?) nathless, my father, at the Colonel's instigation, _persevered_, and went forth, leaving me his card of invitation, which made me scream for half an hour; the wording as follows:--"Sir, the Hoboken Turtle Club will meet at the grove, for _spoon exercise_, on Tuesday, the 11th inst., by order of the President." Mr. ---- and the Doctor paid us a visit of some length.

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When they were gone, read a canto in Dante, and sketched till four o'clock. I wish I could make myself draw. I want to do every thing in the world that can be done, and, by the by, that reminds me of my German, which I must _persecute_. At four o'clock sent for a hair-dresser, that I might in good time see that I am not made an object on my first night. He was a Frenchman, and after listening profoundly to my description of the head-dress I wanted, replied, as none but a Frenchman could, "_Madame, la difficulté n'est pas d'exécuter votre coiffure, mais de la bien concevoir_." However, he conceived and executed sundry very smooth-looking bows, and, upon the whole, dressed my hair very nicely, but charged a dollar for so doing; O nefarious! D---- and I dined _tête-à-tête_; the evening was sulky--I was in miserable spirits.

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Sat working till my father came home, which he did at about half past six. His account of his dinner was any thing but delightful; to be sure he has no taste for rainy ruralities, and his feeling description of the damp ground, damp trees, damp clothes, and damp atmosphere, gave me the _rheumatiz_, letting alone that they had nothing to eat but turtle, and that out of iron spoons.--"Ah, you vill go a pleasuring."

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He had a cold before, and I fear this will make him very ill. He went like wisdom to take a vapour bath directly. ---- came, and sat with us till he returned. Had tea at eight, and embroidered till midnight. The wind is rioting over the earth. I should like to see the Hudson now. The black clouds, like masses of dark hair, are driven over the moon's pale face; the red lights and fire engines are dancing up and down; the streets, the church bells are all tolling--'tis sad and strange.

'Tis all in vain, it may not last, The sickly sunlight dies away, And the thick clouds that veil the past Roll darkly o'er my present day.

Have I not flung them off, and striven To seek some dawning hope in vain? Have I not been for ever driven Back to the bitter past again?

What though a brighter sky bends o'er Scenes where no former image greets me? Though lost in paths untrod before, Here, even here, pale Memory meets me.

Oh life--oh blighted bloomless tree! Why cling thy fibres to the earth? Summer can bring no flower to thee, Autumn no bearing, spring no birth.

Bid me not strive, I'll strive no more, To win from pain my joyless breast; Sorrow has plough'd too deeply o'er Life's Eden--let it take the rest!

_Wednesday, 12th._

Rose at eight. After breakfast, heard my father say Hamlet. How beautiful his whole conception of that part is! and yet it is but an actor's conception too.

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I am surprised at any body's ever questioning the real madness of Hamlet: I know but one passage in the play which tells against it, and there are a thousand that go to prove it. But leaving all isolated parts out of the question, the entire colour of the character is the proper ground from which to draw the right deduction. Gloomy, desponding, ambitious, and disappointed in his ambition, full of sorrow for a dead father, of shame for a living mother, of indignation for his ill-filled inheritance, of impatience at his own dependent position; of a thoughtful, doubtful, questioning spirit, looking with timid boldness from the riddles of earth and life, to those of death and the mysterious land beyond it; weary of existence upon its very threshold, and withheld alone from self-destruction by religious awe, and that pervading uncertainty of mind which stands on the brink, brooding over the unseen may-be of another world; in love, moreover, and sad and dreamy in his affection, as in every other sentiment; for there is not enough of absolute passion in his love to make it a powerful and engrossing interest; had it been such, the entireness and truth of Hamlet's character would have been destroyed. 'Tis love indeed, but a pulseless powerless love; gentle, refined, and tender, but without ardour or energy; such are the various elements of Hamlet's character, at the very beginning of the play: then see what follows. A frightful and unnatural visitation from the dead; a horrible and sudden revelation of the murder of the father for whom his soul is in mourning; thence burning hatred and thirst of vengeance against his uncle; double loathing of his mother's frailty; above all, that heaviest burden that a human creature can have put upon him, an imperative duty calling for fulfilment, and a want of resolution and activity to meet the demand; thence an unceasing struggle between the sluggish nature and the upbraiding soul; an eternal self-spurring and self-accusing: from which mental conflict, alone sufficient to unseat a stronger mind, he finds relief in fits of desponding musing, the exhaustion of overwrought powers. Then comes the vigilant and circumspect guard he is forced to keep upon every word, look, and action, lest they reveal his terrible secret; the suspicion and mistrust of all that surround him, authorised by his knowledge of his uncle's nature: his constant watchfulness over the spies that are set to watch him; then come, in the course of events, Polonius's death, the unintentional work of his own sword, the second apparition of his father's ghost, his banishment to England, still haunted by his treacherous friends, the miserable death of poor Ophelia, together with the unexpected manner of his first hearing of it--if all these--the man's own nature, sad and desponding--his educated nature (at a German university), reasoning and metaphysical--and the nature he acquires from the tutelage of events, bitter, dark, amazed, and uncertain; if these do not make up as complete a madman as ever walked between heaven and earth, I know not what does.[11] Wrote journal, and began to practise; while doing so, ---- called; he said that he was accompanied by some friends who wished to see me, and were at the door. I've heard of men's shutting the door in the face of a dun, and going out the back way to escape a bailiff--but how to get rid of such an attack as this I knew not, and was therefore fain to beg the gentlemen would walk in, and accordingly in they walked, four as fine-grown men as you would wish to see on a summer's day. I was introduced to this regiment man by man, and thought, as my Sheffield friend would say, "If _them_ be American manners, defend me from them." They are traders, to be sure; but I never heard of such wholesale introduction in my life. They sat a little while, behaved very like Christians, and then departed. Captain ---- and ---- called,--the former to ask us to come down and see the Pacific, poor old lady! When they were gone, practised, read a canto in Dante, and translated verbatim a German fable, which kept me till dinner-time. After dinner, walked out towards the Battery. ---- joined us. It was between sunset and moonrise, and a lovelier light never lay upon sea, earth, and sky. The horizon was bright orange colour, fading as it rose to pale amber, which died away again into the modest violet colour of twilight; this possessed the main sky wholly, except where two or three masses of soft dark purple clouds floated, from behind which the stars presently winked at us with their bright eyes. The river lay as still as death, though there was a delicious fresh air: tiny boats were stealing like shadows over the water; and every now and then against the orange edge of the sky moved the masts of some schooner, whose hull was hidden in the deep shadow thrown over it by the Jersey coast. A band was playing in the Castle garden, and not a creature but ourselves seemed abroad to see all this loveliness. Fashion makes the same fools all the world over; and Broadway, with its crowded dusty pavement, and in the full glare of day, is preferable, in the eyes of the New York promenaders, to this cool and beautiful walk. Came home at about nine. On the stairs met that odious Dr. ----, who came into the drawing-room without asking or being asked, sat himself down, and called me "Miss Fanny." I should like to have thrown my tea at him! ---- sent up his name and presently followed it. I like to see any of our fellow-passengers, however little such society would have pleased me under any other circumstances; but necessity "makes us acquainted with strange bedfellows;" and these my ship-mates will, to the end of time, be my very good friends and boon companions. My father went to the Park theatre, to see a man of the name of Hacket give an American entertainment after Matthews's at-home fashion. I would not go, but staid at home looking at the moon, which was glorious.

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