^ .v. % S^ .V. * - ^ F ^.o^ ^ ^ s ^ THORBURN'S JOURNAL MEN AND MANNERS IN BRITAIN; OR, A BONE TO GNAW FOR THE TROLLOPES, FIDLERS, PREFACE. When a man of small abilities, who has neve" been inside of a college, sends forth a book into the world, he is branded as an ab- surd egotist, or a consummate, proud upstart. Again, if the world see a man grovelling along without a spark of ambition to raise him among his fellows, they say he is a mean- spirited mortal, and ask him — "Man, why don't you have more pride?''' Just such a world of contradiction we live in. Once in a while, when we see a coach- maker, shoemaker, or sailmaker, and some- times a currier of jackass hides, set up for VI PREFACE. aldermen, assemblymen, and even for con- gressmen, the world again says, its their pride that prompts them to aspire to those offices of emolument, honour and trust. But the world don't consider that the public will is the guide of these men, and the public good their aim ; for my own part, I think this would be but a poor world, were it not for pride ; but then there is so many kinds of pride, that a body can hardly tell which to choose : there is, for instance, an honest pride, an honourable pride, a family pride, a dandy's pride, and a develish pride; and there is yet another pride, lately got up amongst us, which, in my opinion, is worse than any of the others, not even excepting the last — this is the lawyer's pride, and the pride of the bar. By-the-by it would be well if these gentlemen of the gown and wig would define what they mean by the bar. If this thing had been properly understood, it might PREFACE. Vll have prevented the following awkward catas- trophy. On a late occasion, when a meeting was advertised for the gentlemen of the bar to meet at the hall, it was rather ludicrous to see these sons of the law met together, and another set of bar-keepers also come among them. There were, the bar-keepers of the Columbian and Hibernian, the United, the Independent, and the Jackson Hotels — all very decent men no doubt ; indeed I saw very little difference between the gentlemen, only that the men who bar out justice wore black coats, and the men who bar in whiskey wore coats of many colors. I thought it no wonder that these illiterate men mis- took the meaning of the advertisement, as most assuredly they were all gentlemen of the bar. But to return to the pride of the law ; it is Mil PREFACE. an innovation coming in like a flood, and it threatens to overturn all the decencies of life, or, perhaps. I ought rather to say, of death. The thing is this: of late years it has be- come the praetiee of these brethren of the brief, that whenever any of their number de- part's from this life, you may see one of them hurrying into court, his eyes swelling with importance, squeezing up to the bench, whis- pering something in the ear of the judge; the judge rises, rolling his eyes on the ceiling, his face as long as a pelican in the wilder- ness, lie lets the woful tidings drop, viz. that our worthy brother Caption has just taken leave of the world, and therefore, that you may have time to shed crocodile tears, the court stands adjourned to Monday next, at 11 of the clock; this was on Friday. The Revised Statutes do not empower the judge to stop the wheels of justice, and pocket two days salary of the people's money on any such occasion. Next day a meeting is held, reso- PREFACE. IX lutions made, crape on the arm for thirty days. &/C. Now what is this but pride? What right has any class in society to exalt them- selves by themselves? What do they more than others ? Is not a respectable merchant, a carpenter, a printer, or brick-layer, just as useful in his place as any lawyer ? Now, suppose the merchants in Pearl-street, or suppose the mrster-builders were to shut their shops for two days ; and suppose they were to hold meetings in the Park, and wear crape for thirty days whenever one of the fraternity died — vvhy our streets would be filled with a set of idle vagabonds, our stores as dark as midnight, and the city clothed in sackloth and ashes ; and yet these men have a better right to shut their stores, and close their shops, than the judge has to stop the sale of justice for two days. Besides, is not this intended to establish a dangerous precedent, a sort of law, full of X PRE FACE. aristocracy? Thinking, perhaps, that they receive not honour enough from men in this life, it may be they intend to try the experi- ment whether or not they cannot introduce some old, obsolete, heathenish custom of paying honours to the dead, and thereby we will have all the lawyer's deified. This would surely be something neiv in the other world, and in this also. When a lawyer dies, what more have we to do with him, or for him, than for any other member of the com- munity who makes his money by his hands or his wits ? If a lawyer has a head and a tongue, and knows how to make use of them, he has his reward in this world, and when he dies society owes him nothing — no more than they do to a master-builder, who, having finished the house, receives his money, and then departs this life. But this subject is so prolific, and so full of bad precedent and bad practice, that I hardly know where to leave off. But enough, I think, has been said, to PREFACE. XI convince every man in New- York, that it is high time they should set their faces against this piece of self-created pride. But all this has nothing to do with the book, and perhaps the least said on that sub- ject will be the soonest mended. If the story is a good one, it will sell ; if not, those who don't like it, can just let it alone. THE AUTHOR. Ballets Cove, 5tk Dec, 1834. CHAPTER I. Journal from New-York to Liverpool — Reflections on leaving Land — Seamen's character — a Passenger from ship General Williams — a Funeral at Sea. Oct. 9, 1833— Ship George Washington, at 12 P. M., with a strong northwester and an unclouded sky, we took our departure from the Hook, the light- house due west three miles ; shortly after we lost sight of land. I have more than once known what it is to take the last look of the land which contained all I held dear. It is at times such as this that the ima- gination delights to be busy, and at which she often plays the tyrant over the affections, by throwing the charms of a double fascination around the objects and scenes from which we are torn, as with rapid pencil she sketches in vivid colouring all I have left behind. I keenly feel the reality of my departure, and am almost ready to wonder that I could voluntarily have undertaken, at such a sacrifice, a voyage, attended with much uncertainty, and necessarily involving many a hazard; but in my better judgment I cannot and do not regret it. I think the duty has been pointed out plainly by the dispensations of Him who directs alike 2 14 thorburn's journal. the destinies of angels and of men, not to be followed with unshaken confidence and good cheer, — a firm belief in a particular providence, in that governance of the world which regulates, not only the larger affairs of men and of nations, but which extends to the minu- test concerns of the creatures of God, till, without him, not even a sparrow falleth to the ground, next to those truths which assure us of the remission of sin through the shedding of blood, and which brings the life and immortality of the gospel to light. The Bible unfolds, (in my opinion,) not another doctrine more precious, or more consoling than this. I delight to believe, also, that special paths of duty are often made so plain, that there can scarcely be a mistake in entering upon and pursuing them. This belief, with the persuasion that my present situation is one of duty, keeps my mind in perfect peace, and even emboldens me to appreciate to myself the assurance, " Behold I am with thee, and will keep thee in all places whither thou goest, and will bring thee again into this land, for I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Another cause of quietude springs from the declara- tion, (which I also firmly believe,) that the effectual fervent prayer of the righteous man availeth much. I know I have many such friends by whom I am not forgotten. What a glorious religion is that which the Christian possesses I How unsearchable are its riches of wisdom and grace. A religion rescuing us not only from the guilt and condemnation of sin, cheering us with hope, and fitting us for immortality, but guiding and guarding us also in all our ways. If the religion of the cross be a cunningly de- vised fable, as some would persuade us to believe, thorburn's journal. IB O, how wise the intellect that devised it ! If all its pro- mises and its hopes, its fears and its joys, its impres- sions and its prayers, are but a dream, its a dream of enchantment from which I would wish most devoutly never to awake ; and of which, to all who sleep, I would most earnestly say, " Sleep, O sleep on '" To return ; — when we passed the light-house the ships Charlemagne for Havre, and General Williams for Liverpool, were nearly three miles a head — before dark we lost sight of them astern. The Atlantic was rough and boisterous as is usual at this season of the year, with wind constantly fair for five days. We were so heavily rocked, occasioned by the rolling of the vessel and the wind be- ing astern, it seemed as if our very heads would have dropped from our shoulders. Next day the wind came on our quarter, when we went along as smooth as on a rail-road. At night the scene was peculiarly fine ; a full orbed moon, brushed by cold and wintry looking clouds above ; a troubled and roaring sea below ; our ship careering through and upon the heaving billows, dashing beds of foam far around, and leaving a broad wake behind as she sank and rose with the swelling of the sea, and then plunged again furiously on her mighty way ; the bright moon-beams gleaming on the studding sails as they kissed the waves with every roll of the ship, while the naked spars above, in the deep plunge of the vessel, swept wildly and swiftly in clearly defined lines against the sky — all combined in forming a glorious sight for the eye of an enthusiast, and one from which I could scarce tear myself for the oblivion of sleep. Often, when all were locked in slumber, the watch on deck and myself only excepted, have I walked and sat watching the frantic gambols of the northern lights, the move- 16 merits of the stars, and the sighing of the waves, till morning streaked the eastern sky with gold. In five times crossing the Atlantic, I have seen something of the seaman's character. "When sleep forsook my eyes, I used to go on deck to while away the time and improve my mind in conversing with the hands on watch. Many of them have I found to possess strong, but very few cultivated minds. When we witness their patient endu- rance of danger, cold, fatigue and discomfort, and the willing alacrity with which they perform their arduous duties, we wish they were better paid ; but thenmoney is of no service to them : they are not inhabitants of the earth — sea is their element. They know as little how to spend a dollar to advantage, as the child of three years, when he empties his little holiday purse (with the most willing anxiety) of the last ninty-ninth cent, to pay for a gilded toy not worth six. As they are the most useful class, and as society cannot exist in any thing like comfort without them, it therefore is the duty of society to provide for them a comfortable retreat in old age, and especially as very few of them survive to that period. In London they have schools for their chil- dren, and houses where their widows and orphans are comfortably fed, taught and clothed. The Greenwich Hospital is a monument of British gratitude and hu- manity. To return from this digression ; — as our ship was passing the light-house at Sandy Hook, a boat put on board of us a gentleman from Bermuda. He had en- gaged his passage in the ship General Williams, came too late, and was left. He felt very uncomfortable, as his baggage was on board of the G. W., and he had not a change of clothing. 10th. Wind northeast, nearly becalmed, the ship G. W. about five miles astern. At 10 A. M. launched the 17 boat with four hands and the mate, when they rowed said passenger to his ship. 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th and 15th — nothing remarkable occurred. Wind fair and every thing comfortable ; sea- sickness, and many casting up their accounts of course. Oct. 16th — A Funeral at Sea. — One of our steerage passengers died last night, about 9 o'clock, after being six days out He was brought on board almost in the last gasp of consumption. He hoped his bones would moulder in his native soil (Ireland) ; but his grave is in the deep. None of our cabin passengers knew of his situation till some hours after his death. We have on board the Rev. Mr. B , an Episcopal Minister from England. He was in bed and knew not that there was a corpse on board till I informed him in the morning. He seemed awfully struck when I asked if he had his prayer-book and canonicals in order, as there was to be a funeral at 9 A. M. — He mustered the materials, and finding all in order, said he would perform the last of- fice for the dead, while I was to do my best as clerk pro tern., as he said he understood I had been clerk in a church in New-York for some years. I informed the captain of the arrangement, and requested that he would order every thing to be conducted with decent order and propriety. After receiving my short lesson, we repaired on deck. The scene was novel, solemn, and imposing. The morning was fine ; the sun shone bright and mild; a gentle breeze was humming through our sails, just enough to steady the vessel ; hundreds of sea- gulls were sporting in the sun-beams, and dipping their snow-white wings in the transparent element beneath. Ever and anon as they crossed our path, followed in our < wake, and skimmed our stately ship, they looked and 2* 18 thorburn's journal. they screamed, and they screamed and they looked, as if anxious to know the meaning of this dance of death. Our crew and our passengers, eighty-five in number, were all on deck, uncovered — all watching, with intense interest, the order and systematic preparations of the seamen. The body was tightly stitched up in a white sheet, (not a spot of skin appearing,) then fastened to a plank, and a heavy stone appended to the feet. The end of the plank, with the feet towards the sea, was now placed on the bulwarks about midships. The end where the head rested, was supported by the carpenter and his mate. All things being ready, the captain on the right, and I on the left of the minister, the beautiful service for the dead commenced — " I am the Resurrec- tion and the Life," &c, in the full-toned, solemn, and clear accent of a regular bred Yorkshire parson. The various and intense feelings depicted in the faces of the motley group, as they eyed the cloth that hid the life- less clay ; the wild screams of the milk-white sea-fowl, descending and ascending in quick succession, forced on the mind the thought of guardian angels, ready to convey some ransomed soul to worlds of light. We were 1400 miles from land, suspended, as it were, be- tween heaven and the great deep, and only a four inch plank between us and the gates of heaven or hell. When the minister came to the words, we " commit the body to the deep," I sung out, "launch the corpse." — In a moment it was sinking in the mighty waters. — " Lord, what is wan /" exclaimed each thinking soul. We seemed pausing alone on the brink of eternity ; but the eye of Omnipotence was there. In the clear waters of the Atlantic we could see the white object sink, per- haps some hundred feet. I stood on the stern and watched its descent. The buoyancy of the plank, with the stone at the feet, kept the body erect. It looked to my thorburn's journal. 19 mind like a mortal of earth, descending the narrow steps of time, down to the broad confines of eternal space. In a few moments' more the rags of the flesh, with the strips of the winding-sheet, were lodged in monsters' jaws. It was a very impressive scene, and seemed to strike all present, with a sense of their dependance on Him who holds the wind in his fist and the waters in the hollow of his hand. To commit a body to the earth, seems like cancelling a debt of nature ; but though the flesh be as cold as the marble of Siberia, there is something revolting to the feelings when a human carcass is sunk in the cold green sea. But this sea must give up the dead that are in her. If you have a friend in the world whom you wish bet- ter than another, if he wants to see Liverpool, tell him to wait for the George Washington, Captain Holdredge and crew. We are now nine days out, and have not heard an oath from either man or officer — sometimes making fourteen knots for twelve hours on a stretch — the waves as high as Snake-Hill in Jersey, and neither sigh nor groan has yet escaped its timbers. Her vast sheets of canvass spread to the sun and swelling in the breeze, appear like ripe fields of wheat on Hallet's Cove, and yet they are mowed as by a spring, from the tinkle of a bell, by the sturdy arms of our willing crew. No noise, no shouting, no confusion — all moves on as if impelled by him who is the God of order. At 8 A. M., 12, 4 and 8 P. M. our table is filled with more than heart can wish. Clinton Lunch, or Congress Hall, can boast no better cooks. Every morning we have fresh milk from the cow, without the contamination of blue- skin water from the race grounds of Long-Island. We 20 thorburn's journal. have men of mind and science from the four quarters of the globe in our cabin, each promoting the pleasure of his neighbour. Our esteemed townsman, Samuel F. Mott, and inte- resting family, are a genuine acquisition to our party. Al- ready has the health of his lady much improved. Our book-case and books, our beds, comforts, luxuries and attendants, are such as maybe expected (only) from the New-York packets. Nothing worthy of notice occurred for the remaining eleven days of our voyage, when we arrived at Liver- pool, all well, having been only twenty days at sea. — At the examination of our baggage in the custom- house, we were treated with marked attention and politeness ; indeed to be an American, or a resident in America, seems a passport to kind regard and attention everywhere. In the streets of Liverpool to-day, (2d Nov.,) I saw two well-dressed women, having an organ fastened on a small four-wheeled waggon. They were dragging it through one of the principal streets— at every corner they would stop, and one would sing while the other played the organ— passengers would throw them a few cents. I wondered that the magistrates, who had mothers, wives and daughters, would allow so public a degradation of the sex. I wished I had Mrs. Trollope by the ear at that moment. In the hotels, besides paying your bill at the bar, you are called on by — sir, remember the waiter, — sir, remem- ber the chambermaid ; and also by a slovenly looking fel- •low whom they call boots. In the stage, perhaps you are drove from London to Coventry, or any other direction, to a distance of fifty miles. There you change the driver and guard, when you are again subjected to the same 21 beggarly impositions — sir, I have drove from London — sir, I have guarded you from London. You may give as much as you please, but not less than one shilling to each. In fifty miles more the same beggarly farce is acted over again. Between London and Liverpool, 200 miles, I paid twelve shillings sterling to guards and drivers, besides three sovereigns stage fare. Indeed I could travel 200 miles in America, just for the money I paid to guards and coach drivers in going from Lon- don to Liverpool; and you can't get clear of this impo- sition. To be sure you are not compelled by civil law, but if you don't submit to this law of the road, ten to one but your trunk would disappear before you where half through your journey. They will swell, pirffand blow about their English pride, their independent spirits, and all such blustering stuff, but in all and every thing connected with travelling concerns, itis a complete sys- tem of organized beggary, from the contractor down to the lowest boot cleaner. Old Boniface himself comes out to be sure ; his face as red as a northwest moon, corporation like a ten gallon keg, white apron, shoes, buckles and stockings, bowing and cringing like one of his well-whipped spaniels, but most roundly does he make you pay for all this servility ; and when you are going to leave his inhospitable roof, he sends after you a host of privileged beggars; and after you are seated in the coach, the windows on each side are beset with — sir, I lashed your trunk — mam I brought out your bandbox, &c. I was informed by several gentle- men, that the servants in hotels and drivers on the road had no other compensation for their services, only what they could in this way extort from customers. This may all be very well, if they are willing to have their servants a committee of beggars and extortioners, 90 thorburn's journal. instead of men who make conscience of doing (heir duty, knowing that they will receive an honourable compensa- tion for theU services. I say tins may all he very well if the majority are pleased to have it so; hut why hold themseh es np as paragons of wisdom and models oi fashion to the world.' Why send forth their Fiddlers ami Trollopes, talking about men and manners in America, when they themselves have yet to learn what it is to practice the first rudiments of common sense? Fiddler could travel from Maine to Georgia, and not meet a beggar in a hotel, or seated on a stage box. This custom of theirs IS a greet annoyance to stran- gers; for in addition to all your other cares on the road, you have to carry a pocket full oi' change. Hitter would it he to put every charge in the hill, and make you pay at the bar. CHAPTER II. A visit to the Tower. I HAVE been twenty-four days in London. To the man w ho lias time to spare, and money to spend, it is worth all the pains to walk one day each in St. Paul's, Westminster Abbey, and the tower. In the former you read the monuments, and tread over the bones and dust of all that were once great, and many that were good, for the past thousand years — kings, warriors, benefac- tors and destroyers of men, eloquent divines and ac- complished females, profound statesmen, historians and poets — all tumbled in one promiscuous heap of death. In the poet's corner you tread over the dust of Dryden, Pope, and scores of others, who in their day shook the sides of laughter-looking faces; but now, there they lie themselves — O, how mute ! In the tower, within whose blackened walls for nearly twenty centuries, alternately, was heard the music and the dance, the sound of laughter and revelry, with the screams of the tortured, and the groans of the murdered. Over floors stained, and along walls besprinkled with the blood of the beauties of that day, you now walk with the wardens in the same costume which they wore in the days of Henry VIII. To describe my feelings, or what I saw, is im- possible ; but while I held in my hand the axe which severed the heads of the beautiful Ann Bolyn, Lady Jane Grey, and Mary of Scotland, I felt proud 24 thorburn'h journal. that the annals of my adopted country was not stained by deeds so barbarous and unmanly. Says I to the warden, " your Fiddlers and Trollopes talk of refine- ment — the standard ot' refinement is estimated in all countries by the respectin which their women are held. Now, sir, were they to attempt in America to cut oil" the head of a beautiful woman, every rifle, from Maine to Georgia, would be raised in her defence." He smiled at my remark. He soon observed that, from my tongue, he should take me for a Scotchman. I said I thought the same of him — it. was the case: and being countrymen, he conducted me around, and described every thing with great attention. I saw in London women, dressed neat and clean, trundelling wheelbarrows in the middle of the streets. seemingly carrying home or taking clothes to be washed. In the markets of London and Liverpool are thousands of women, who make their Living by carrying home the meat and vegetables. They have round baskets which they place on their heads. I have met delicate, good looking females, trembling under the loads they carried. You may see them in groups and rows, their baskets in hand. As you pass along the market, you ace interrogated at every step, with "sir, do you want a basket:" — "Please, sir, to take a basket," Slc. It don't seem to be the custom in London to take a servant with them to market. I also saw a woman on the highway breaking stones to Macadamize the road. On another occasion 1 saw a woman having a young child buckled on her back. She was driving a one horse cart laden with coals, going up a steep part of the road, and the load being rather heavy for the horse, she took hold of the wheel and tiiormjrnVs journal. 25 helped it. to roll along- till she got to the top of the. hill. I thought this was most emphatically: clapping the shoulder to the wheel. I thought if Mrs. Trollope and Fiddler had seen such things in America, what a fine subject it would have been Tor them to make a book. \ attended service in many, Chapels, Churches. Cathedrals and Abbeys, in Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's Ca- thedral, (the resort of fashion.) In. the former I heard the Lord Bishop of Gloucester rend prayers. I thought (at the time) that our own Hishop Onderdonk reads better. 1 there saw old and young men silting at the head of the pews, when the ladies were sitting next to the door. I saw a black whiskered dandy, apparently about twenty-seven ; he was sitting alone, just inside of the pew door. A genteel young lady came to the pew :, but, instead of opening the door and giving her the place which common decency and common sense as- signed asher's, he shoved his own ugly carcass ahead, and let her sit next to the door. I saw young men sitting, and respectable-looking females standing — some of them old enough to he their mothers or grand-mothers, and some of them young enough to have been their sisters. Perhaps it were hardly worth noticing these things, were it not that the [Jails, Trollopcs, &,c, have the modesty to tax the Americans with want of refine- ment ! Now, as far as I can observe, if the remark be true, that respect paid to the women is the true standard of refinement, I think America is at least half a century ahead of these London folks. In short, many, very many, of the laborious and menial offices are here per- formed by women. Wiih regard to manners, you will here receive the tvery essence of hospitality and kind attention ; to be 3 26 thorburn's journal. sure, you will see the h eighth of splendour and affluence contrasted with the most abject poverty; but here, as well as almost every where else, excess in drinking lies at the bottom of this evil. Every where there is the greatest appearance of plenty. I met in company, the other day, a real John Bull ; he sat puffing and blowing with corpulence. His very eyes stood out with fatness, as if ready to start from their sockets ; in short, he was a real Falstaff. There he sat grumbling about taxes, tithes, poor rates, &c. We had picked an acquaintance and could make free. Says I, my friend, you look, at any rate, as if you got your allowance. He and his friends had a hearty laugh, which ended the political lecture. The quantities of meat in the markets of London are almost frightful to look at; besides, in every street, they have large butchers' shops, which, from 3 till 11 o'clock P. M., are most brilliantly lighted up with gas ; and, as they have a peculiarly neat way of cutting up their meat, their shops show to fine advan- tage. Their hundreds of benevolent institutions for the maimed, the sick, the halt, and the blind ; their multitudes of princely buildings, where tens of thou- sands of poor children are fed, clothed, and instructed ; their hospitals and churches ; their soldiers' and sailors' retreats, &c, form, altogether, such a mass of good, as makes the heart exclaim, " such only are thy fruits, O Christianity!" and imparts to the mind something like a confidence, that a country where so much good will is shown to man, will stand against all the assaults of external and internal foes, till the da i arrives when her palaces and hospitals, with the globe itself, shall shiver in the blaze. thorburn's journal. 27 It is both amusing and interesting to see the chil- dren of the various charitable institutions dressed in the costume of the day, which bears the date of the founding of them some, seven hundred years ago. CHAPTER III, London — its Charitable Institutions — Police — Barber- shops, 4* c « I saw nothing in London that pleased me so muck as their charitable benevolent institutions. London contains 43 free schools, with perpetual endowments for educating and maintaining nearly 4,000 children ; 1? other schools for poor and deserted children; 237 parish schools, supported by voluntary contribu- tions. &c, in which about 10 or 12,000 boys and girls are constantly clothed and educated; 3 colleges; 2*3 hospitals for sick, lame, and indigent women ; 107 alms- houses for the maintenance oi' aged persons of both ; 18 institutions for the support of the poor of various descriptions, and about 30 dispensaries for the gratuitous supply of medicine and medical aid to the helpless in all cases. Besides these various establish- ments, each paiish lias a work-house for the occupa- tion and maintenance of its own distressed or helpless poor; and the several Trades Companies of the City of London distribute about 75,000 pounds sterling, Dearly $375,000, annuall) in charities. The sums ex- pended among the other public charities, is computed at not less than 850,000 pounds, or $4,250,000 per annum. The hospitals, alms-houses and free schools, were chiefly founded by private persons, or incorporated bodies oi tradesmen. Many of them are endowed witi thorburn's journal. 29 perpetual revenues—others are supported by annual or occasional voluntary contributions. The medical assistance in the hospitals is the best which the profession can supply. The attendance is am- ple ; the rooms are generally very clean and wholesome, and the food is suitable to the condition of the patients. The alms-houses and other institutions for the support of the aged and indigent, exhibit not merely an appear- ance, but the real possession of competence and ease. From some of the free schools pupils have been sent to the universities, as well prepared as those from any of the most expensive seminaries ; and all the scholars receive an education adapted to the stations for which they are designed. But independent of these 16,000 children, who are fed, clothed and taught, you may see 40,000 Sun- day scholars every Sabbath picked from the streets and their feet led into the house of prayer. Here then is 56,000 children, who otherwise might be prowling about the streets and learning the road to the gallows, snatched, as it were, from destruc- tion by these friends of Christianity, and their feet di- rected into the ways of peace. In looking at this state- ment, which is rather under than over the truth, we may thus see what a large amount of sweet is here thrown into the bitter cup of human wo. Never was there found in any of the large cities of the world, an- cient or modern, so many asylums for alleviating the miseries of man, as is to be found in London, for which we may thank the Bible : besides, in the day in which we live, there is not a spot on the globe where true liberty, or rational religion exists, except where the English language is spoken. Cesar nor Pompey, Han- nibal nor Alexander, nor any of the heathen champions, 3* i 1101; ■•• i K'l F0VRN41 ght of setting op in orphan asylum. These mom. I - humanity were Left tor the champions erect l sin much in London to ihc v \ o am! instruct the mind. I fount] J Mic institution by moans of a (Head, and \ name But nothing gave mo SOU ami BUCh .; tiou of soul, as to w ilk imenced ringing on a Sab* hreid my way to some distent .. or in o\ ov\ street I e 1) . i W omo oharitN » some IV see thorn in dl i hion of the days in which some of the ■any centuries igo : to see thorn oth, reiching nearly to the i v s, jackets, hurt' stockings, black shoos tnd buckles, and whits s under their chins, like little iters neat ami clean, with smiling happ) (aces, - five hundred in a lino : te em in the . of pray or, making i ho vv i in an orderly banting and singing to Him who has i omo from tl o lips klings; to soo soni< times i thousai b« little humou- red in this work. 1 sa\. the man . end j et his o\ es refuse their as the nether mill- stone. Imitted into the House of Lords ex< srliament and strangers hiring i ticket >. ticket, but then it is absolutely neces* thit > ou b& So as this w ould ban I was willing to paj for die sight of mi lords. I e'en let the matter rest. THORBVKJf' it. 71 I had read much, and heard more, about th< of London; about iharpera, swindlers and p daj ; about thieves, robber*, and murder* i \>y night ; about cond< mning men foi one shil- them by the dozeni every week at I was in London a good part of the winter, when the lampi irerelitat3 P. M., and frequently kept burning till s o'clock next morning, so thick and ■ olty is the atmo | i long and so dark . (bj ill' by, I thought the town looked to i advantage af night tl an it did \>y day, the shop* and la it forth auch a light, that the people seemed animated with new life, and the shops howed off to more advantage.) I walked in alm< ; and at almoi t every liour in the day and of the niglft have been brought from three and four mile- out of town after midnight in i c;,! , or. py o boon oiVored up i catacomb to the bwsa io&l of many of those roj/al liriys mon falsely >o called w ln>. in days gone DJ . cursed these beautiful nelda of England (for, thank God, neither tin- annals of my n:\ti\e nor of my adopted country are itained by deeda so barbarous) with their hateful persons. This honour of murdering weak, delicate) helpless, beautiful woman, seems exclusively to belong to those cbiTelroui spirits, the descendants of St George, St Louis, Bonaparte 1 ! Invincible*, and those opium*fed beings called Turks. When 1 stood on the spot where the bead of Lady Jane Gray and others rolled in the basket, these ami the following reflections forced themselves' on mj mind« I looked back tO the days when that monster in human shape, King Richard, cursed the earth l saw, on the ipol where l stood, the scaffold, the block, the executioner In horrid ittire, end at thus moment the fatal axe was in my hand I saw the ring termed, composed of the •I IIOItlll!IIN'.i JOI/KNAf,. G1 Knights of the Tempi*, of the Croee, of Melts, end of fern ah in. There they eat on the becki of their hor- iee, themeeto \ Accoutred In ell die material end air- eomitance of war** ihield end buckler* iword in hand, ipeai "i reft, and bow and ojuivei by their sides. And for what jh all thii military array! Why it is one thoueend of the Champions oj England met to i in the murder ofeweak, beautiful, innocent woman. I looked up i') the bell, and fancied i heard it toll, f turned and beheld the door through which the walked to death, inpported \>y two prieeti beering the eroee — ble dreen and mourning veil -her face pele ret lovely in death. She looked like. B tender lilly of the valley, drooping its modest head anion ;< the bledi smoke ant! einderf Of Mount Vesuvius. But what must have been her thoughti when ihe beheld the Percy, the (Jloiter, the York, the Lancaster, and ell thofe mighty murderen of the human rece, eeeemhled to shed her blood : they, who, hut a dw days hefore, had wore Jut odour, fOUght in her n;ime at the: tournament, talked abOUt lady love, and bent to her the, knee — now, like rtcrvile slaves, at the nod of their little master they guard her to the slaughter. Now ftfre* Trollope end on Fiddler, these being! said they were English- men j hut had there heen aught than craven blood in their milk and water veins, they would have sped their arrows through the black BOUl of their tyrant. Tl .re i!j : patriot, with ;i hrow of indignant virtue, and a mind flaming with holy zeal i'xv the Welfare of his fellow men, has : miled under tin: axe, end pttt tin: seal of blOdd to the testament of his principles — There the faithful and Upright n..ni-,tir has found his prison and hlf grave, from ihe sceptred and ungrateful hnnd too forgivingly saluted when raised to ntiike the 52 thorburn's journal. annihilating blow.* And there, too, the " diadem en- circled brow" has one moment stood exalted in the pride and entire plenitude of power, and the next sunk under the arm of the assassin. But there are re- collections of a livelier kind attached to the tower. A long race of princes kept court there. Among them are Henry V. and Edward III. Within its walls those two scourges of France welcomed "shout and revelry," and fair dames distributed prizes to the victors at the tournament, when the mailed heroes " drank the red wine through the helmet barred," and the proud Crusa- der — " le casque sur le front, et le croix sur le sein" — - " with helmet on his brow, and cross upon his breast," reined in his stately courser, and dismounted to bend the knee to beauty. Thus the union of grandeur and misery, of the palace and the dungeon, of all the ex- tremes of human existence, have contributed to make the tower a place of durable remembrance. Diverging from Tower-street a little to the left, on entering upon Tower Hill, is the spot where the scaffold formerly stood, near the south-western angle of the iron palisadoes enclosing the plantation. These scaffold- posts were fixtures in the ground, the planks that covered them being only removed after an execution. They remained there until the revolution, and consisted of four upright pieces of wood placed at right angles, having two shorter posts on the western side, which latter most probably supported the steps — those steps, to ascend which Sir Thomas Moore asked assistance of the lieutenant of the tower, saying, " friend, help me up, and whenl come down again let me shift for myself," — and to the executioner, that " he would get little * Read the fate of Cromwell, Earl of Essex, in Hume. thorburn's journal. 63 credit for beheading him, his neck was so short." There also fell his friend Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, who lingered a year in the tower, deprived even of necessary- clothing, for refusing to acknowledge that monster of crime, Henry, to be God's vicegerent upon earth. There died Cromwell, Earl of Essex, without having had a trial ; the virtuous Earl of Surry, one of our early poets ; the politic Strafford, and the energetic Sir Henry Vane, whose last address to the people being feared, was drowned by the noise of drums placed round the scaffold for that purpose. And there fell the patriotic and heroic Sidney, the innocent and venerable Countess ol Salisbury, the last of the line of thePlanta- genets, who ran round the scaffold, and refused to lay her head on the block without a trial, her gray locks hanging over her shoulders, till, after many fruitless blows aimed at her neck by the executioner, the race that had swayed the sceptre of England for three hun- dred years, was extinguished by a brutal stroke. (Well, Mrs. Trollope, where was now your champions of England, your gallant knights, your men of refinement, with their breast-plates of steel and ten thousand lances at re st — a set of babbling boys, gabbling about lady love and protecting innocence? There they stand in mock martial array to witness the brutal murder of their grandmother. Why, woman, you never heard of such soulless meanness among the red savages in the western wilds of America.*) * These and similar remarks I made to the chief officers, their ladies and daughters, wardens, constables, lieutenants, mayors, &c. In the room which contains the armory I saw 150,000 stand of arms, all ready for actual service in five minutes. This room is 345 feet long by 60 broad. While walking here with the warden, 5* 54 thorburn's journal. For the tower again. There poor Anna Boleyn smiled at the shortness of her neck for the headsman's purpose. There poor Jane Shore was left to die in l ditch with hunger and cold, because another of those brutal kings commanded his slaves not to give her food or shelter. While I stood on Shore ditch, I wondered in my mind — ,k could there not be found men enough in all England, rather to have torn the flinty heart from his carcass." Volumes might be filled with the deeds of those devils in human shape, but instead of enumerating others, it may be best to follow the path over which their head- less trunks were conveyed, back to their former place of confinement. There is something very imposing in the massy buildings of the tower gates and their quad- ruple guards, in passing under the low, heavy, gothic portals which lead to it, and which have conducted so many, asShakspeare has it, to M makes bloody supper in the tower." Dungeons and bastiles, inquisition and torture, rush upon the mind, and one thinks of the En- thc officers, ladies, a< bars of any science, 1 think arc the true friends of h > woman <>i strong mind, as well ai h ready pen. They have only one child, (s girl,) so this excellent woman Is able to devote in i whole time to her husband, lie Is a Scotchman, t mother witi and a clear head* CHAPTER X. Liverpool — its Whcrves, Trade and Shipping — new Cemetery — Huskisson' sDeath — Monument — Mourn- ing Widew — Psalm-singing Beggars — Prince Rupert's Cottage, SfC. u It is better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of feasting; for that is the end of all men — and the living will lay it to his heart." — Eccls. Liverpool is not quite as large as New-York; but it is probable there is more capital and business there. Nature has done but little for them; but, to a large extent, they have remedied this defect by art. At low water the river Mersey makes a very poor appearance; but their substantial stone docks, spacious ware-houses, and the wharves shut up at night with walls and gates, guarded by the police, and no fire allowed on board the ship- ping, form altogether such an appearance of comfort and security to the merchant's and their property, as perhaps the like is nowhere else to be found. The new cemetery at Liverpool is the site of an old stone quarry. You descend from the top of the rock by a winding path to the level bottom, a distance of nearly one hundred feet. I should think, from its ap- pearance, that the place of burial occupies nearly one thorburn's journal. 69 mile square. As you look down on the humble graves and splendid monuments below, it looks most solemnly- imposing, and awfully grand, as if presenting to the mind a view of the valley of the shaddow of death. I saw six sextons at work in the bowels of the earth. — They stood up to the neck, and were digging yet deep- er the houses appointed for all the living. With the dark, damp wall of rocks all around, the black iron doors of the graves, and the caves cut out of the rocks, make it look like the very land of forgetfulness itself. Here is deposited the remains of the great Mr. Hus- kisson. They are just about erecting a splendid monument to his memory, this day, December 18, 1833. The workmen have laid bare the iron chest which contains his bones, preparatory to laying the foundation. The sight of his premature grave was fraught with solemn reflections and admonitions of instruction. At the time of his sudden death, he was perhaps the most popular man in England. He had been active in promoting the erection of the Manchester Rail-road. On the day of its completion, and amid the shouts of the assembled thousands, he was summoned, as in a moment, from time to eternity. The Duke of Wellington was present. The duke and he had a difference some time previous, and the duke had him removed from the councils of the nation. They had not spoke for some time. Now there he stood in the proud consciousness of a public benefactor, Watching the eyes of Wellington as they scanned ihe vast assembly, and saying as it were in his heart, these are my strength — you now see where my hope lies. — At this moment the duke ard he in appearance were made friends. They had just shaken hands ; the people were shouting long live Huskisson, the friend of 70 man. The duke and he were in earnest conversation, and there was but a step between him and death — for there stood Death, paying no respect to the noise of the people, or pride of the parties, his head bent, earnestly engaged in fitting the arrow to the bow-string. He slowly stands erect, takes aim for a moment — it touches the vitals, and a great man has fallen in Israel that day. It appears by some accident that can hardly be ac- counted for, that one of those cars of his glory passed over his person, and before the morning's sun, all that remained of this great, (and from all I can leain,) good man, was but a heap of dust. While I stood with my hand on the cold. iron coffin which held that head, that only a day before contained projects and plans, which the life of Methuselah was too short to see executed, I thought how small and vain is man, and yet Thou art mindful of him. There, too, I saw the new made widow. She led in each hand a tender pledge of love. She stopped by the grave of her husband. As I approached she was cropping the yellow leaves from two handsome monthly rose-bushes, which stood one at the head and the other at the foot of his grave. At the sound of my foot she gave a start, and turned her lovely eyes still floating in tears. Being afraid to intrude on her sacred sorrow, I hastily followed an opposite path, and took my stand where I could see without being seen. She continued dressing the stock and the wall-flower which grew on its sides, while the burning tears dropped fast and thick on the cold sod which covered that breast to which but lately she was fondly pressed. She spoke to her children — no doubt telling them of their father, of whom, from their age, they could have known but little. With slow and steady step she left the grave, her children going JOURNAL. 71 before. Her countenance, contrasted with the mourning weeds, looked as white as the muslin cloth which she oft applied to her moistened cheeks. I followed them with my eyes until they crossed the garden* gate. Then I prayed in my heart that the Father of the father- less, and the Judge of the widow, would send them help from his Holy Temple. Many of those chambers of death are dug out from the straight wall of the solid rock. They are shut up with an iron door, and generally there is a white marble slab with black letters surmounting the door, to denote to whom it belongs. On one of these modest looking stones was the following inscription : To the memory of John , aged 22 years, who died at sea, March, 1830; and Sarah , aged 18 years, 4 months and 25 days, who died September, 1830 — the only children of their mother, and she is a widow. The affecting tale detained me at the mouth of the cave. A respectable gentleman, advanced in years, came slowly pacingalong. He looked like one who lived among the tombs, and I could read in his face that he was one who would not return an uncivil answer to a question civilly asked. — Says I, " sir, if you can, will you please to tell me aught about this melancholy tale." Says he, " Sir, the widow is my neighbour. I knew the manly boy and lovely girl since they were children. One of those beings in the shape of a man, who dangle about houses where there * Among the Jews, the place of burial wa3 termed a garden, and the sexton a gardener. See John xx. and xv. And the yards in many parts of Britain look like a garden, as most of the graves are planted with flowers. I saw among- them, in the month of January, the lauristinus, the rose, the stock, and the wall-flower, in full bloom. 72 thorburn's journal. are young women, and when asked (perhaps after some years of dancing attendance) what is their intentions, will very coolly reply, why they meant nothing but merely to spend time. Well, it was one of those de- spisable blanks in creation who frequented the widow's house till he gained the affections of the daughter, when he suddenly left her, and shortly after was married to another. From that day she drooped, and ere six moons had waned, her corpse was consigned to this narrow house. The widow is supported by a small an- nuity left by her husband. Her spirit is kept up by the consolations of her Bible, and the hope of joining her friends in another and a better world." These meditations among the tombs took place in a gray, calm, sober-looking afternoon, when the days were at the shortest; and at this season in England, the sky looks gloomy indeed. I walked out of that place of sculls, wishing in my heart that all the fortune hunters, office hunters, pleasure hunters, and fox hun- ters, would turn aside for an hour and see this great sight. Well might it cool the ardour of an office hun- ter, for here lays Huskisson, cut down in all his flower and prime. Our men of morality too might heie learn a lesson. They will talk all the year about righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, and in election week encourage every sort of wickedness with greediness. . These men, to be sure, will not get drunk — may be they will not swear ; but they will tell a few lies. Many of these temperance society men think there is no harm in telling lies in election week ; and though they do not get drunk themselves, yet they give their money to the tavern keeper, with orders to make as many drunk as they can, and being that it is election week, they think there is no harm in it. In short these thorburn's journal. 73 moralist's care not ; if they only vote their ticket, they may get drunk and go to hell for all they care. This, by-the-by, is another instance of the beautiful simplicity of our republican government. But to return to Li- verpool. As I write, there is now passing my window, in a very, public street, a poor man and woman ; the man holds in his arms a child apparently about four months old — two other children are walking by their side. They are all four singing, to very good time, some sort of a hymn, to the tune of old hundred. I thought this was refinement in beggary. Everton, in my opinion, is the prettiest little town in England ; it stands on a hill adjoining to, and com- pletely overlooks Liverpool. Here you have a view of the country all around, as far as the eye can reach- The beacon on the summit, was built in the year 1220, by Runulph Blunderville, then Earl of Chester, Prince Rupert's Cottage, so called, from having been the head quarters of that prince in the year 1644, while he was laying siege to Liverpool. It is a long, low, rectangular shaped edifice, about five yards in width, and twenty yards in length ; the whole exterior is com- posed of rude unchiseled stone, cemented together with lime-mortar. The whole is washed over with white lime ; the roof is of thatch ; the rafters which support the roof are of oak, bare and black with age ; clay has been daubed over the inner walls instead of plaster ; and, although the present occupiers are cleanly people, it makes a very sorrowful appearance. The floors are of clay, partially tiled ; it is built on a solid rock, the steps are cut in the rock to get in at the door. It is now oc- cupied by a family of decent intelligent English cot- tagers ; they conducted me through their ancient but humble dwelling with much good nature. 7 74 raomivmit'i loommi Here thon I s.it in the dwelling Of .t ovimv and | soldier of fame ; the roof of itrew, and the round I ..i from the (rot direetl} over mv bead* i ied 1 s.wv the mailed warriors on rough benehea surround the whole wall of the Interior, the points of their apeari on the hard) «.! i> - elaj floor, their bond on the hilt, and their chins resting on their hamls, liMen- iag, in sullen eUenee» to the plans of death ami devests turn, mnv proposed bv their ohh Perhaps this cottage at thit da] waa n good and as comfortable a dwelling tor miles .ivouml When WC think how many comforts, acconmunlauons and pleasures we enjo] in our dwellings, in travelling : . by land, ami almost [q oncjy thing which our fathers know nothing about 50 yean ago, we be thankful thai our \wc* lia\o Mien to us in pleasant times CHAPTER XL Enter Scotland — Old Ca ttlee ttnd Mm asteriei — Re$i» denee and Grave of Sir Walter Seott — Meeting with my Father t tyc. Dec I, 1833#— Crotaed the border, and ent< Scotland. An Intelligent gentleman, one of our pas- - is, as we pasted along, pointed out many of the catties, palacet, roonatteriet and battle grounds, so well ribed by Scott, in the Tales of My Landlord, and other works. Visited Ahbottford and Drybnrgh Abbey ; the former the residence, the latter the grate of Sir Wal- ter Scott. So much hat been written of Jate on this Bubjeet, that nothing new can be added. I had written my friends in Dalkeith, nothing extra pre renting, I would be with them on the 12th. The •tage pattet within half a mile of my father's door; the mail-ttage paetet --it 7, the other at 9 1\ M. Ex- pecting me in the mail, my brother and sister-in-law woe waiting my arrival. Not finding me with the mail, they gare DM up for that night. The fact is, a teal in the mail co*-:ts two dollars more than our; in the stage; 80 I thought it was too much for the pleasure of arri- ving two Injurs sooner. 1 was set down at 9 o'clock — procured a person to carry my trunk — arrived at the gate where rny father 76 v THORBURN r S JOURNAL. has lived for half a century — directed the man to call my brother, but not to mention my name, as I wished to try whether my father would remember my voice, not knowing me to be in the room. (He is blind with age.) The family consists of my father, brother and wife, a young man and servant girl, My brother came out.' I told him to caution the family not to mention my name. I followed in a minute. My father sat before the fire, his arm resting on a table, and his cheek on the hand. "Is old Mr. Thorburn in the room ?" I inquired. " I am here," says he, " what's your wish ?" " When did you hear from your sons in America ?" says 1 44 We had a letter fnte Grant the other day; he is some way aboot Lunnun or Liverpool, he ay rites his com in doun, but his unco long about it,* 1 I found he did not recognise my voice. I continued, " Don't you find a great loss in the want of your Bight; you used to read and walk so much V 44 To be sure it is a loss," says he ; 4 ' but how can an auld man ninety-ant expect to hac a' his faculties. I my be very glad there is ony o 1 them left. I can hear my freends speak to me ; I can eat my bit meat ; # my health is glide, and I sleep weel a! night; so I ought to be very thankful." I made some other inquiry, when he says, (beginning to recollect my voice,) 44 but, am thinking yere Grant kimtell, n The rest maybe described, but cannot be felt. It was now within a few months of forty years since we first parted on. that same spot. At ihat time our calculations were, that we would never meet until we met in eternity. But here we were, and in circumstan- ces of peace, comfort, and plenty, A pleasure this. ♦ Meat, in Scotland, means all sorts of food. thorburn's journal. 77 which few who have left their father's house ever en- joyed in such perfection. Not many days after I sat down to dinner with nearly twenty of my old school fellows. We had then the days o' lang syne up to nature. The seat of the Buccleugh family stands in a beauti- ful park at the foot of the town (Dalkeith) where my father resides. I received an invitation from, and spent a pleasant half hour with the- duke and his duchess. He is a gentleman of the most amiable deportment and manners. It may be said of them, in truth, that they have been formed after the same model. The family ever have been as nursing fathers and mothers to the widow, the orphan, the sick, and the poor of the parish'; and the present family follow in the steps of their pre- decessors. They are both young, neither of them being over twenty-live years of age. When introduced, the duke was engaged in conversation with two gentlemen. He joined me at once, led me into an elegant parlour, where we were joined by the duchess in a few minutea. She on the one side, I on the other, and he in front of the fire. We conversed of times and things. I addressed them simply, sir and madam, observing — I hoped they would excuse my plainness of speech ; that I knew how to respect worth, and especially when I found it in su- periors, (as without flattery was now the case ;) but being unused to courtly style, to attempt it now would be making bad worse. The duke observed — he hoped while in their company I would feel as if at home, that he knew what value to put in empty sounds. The nurses brought in their two pretty children. As de- scendants of a worthy family, I kissed them with my lips, while I blessed them in my heart. 7* 78 thordurn's journal. The duchess thanked me for the polite dedication (as she termed it) of my history toiler.* I said I had my doubts of its politeness, but was sure of its sincerity. But, madam, said I, you can say what perhaps no lady in Britain can say about a dedication, it was addressed to you from the cabin of the ship George Washington,] * The London edition of ray Forty Years Residence is dedica- ted to the duchess, as follows : — To Her Grace the Duchess of Buccleugh would I dedicate this Book, were I master of the courtly style. When I think of her who was duchess fifty years ago, as I saw her feeding the robin, the sparrow, and the raven, from hor basket of crumbs, on the freezing snows of a winter's morning. — As I saw hor gathering up the loaves and fishes, and giving them to the poor, that nothing might bo lost. — As I saw her giving her gold to the widow, and her silver to the orphan of the Parish. — I say, when I think on these things, tho name, Puchcss of Buccleugh, sounds like music in mine car. That you, madam, niny long enjoy in this world tho peace which passclh all understanding, and a mansion in the skies, when tho castles and palaces of earth will shiver in tho blase, is tho prayer of your sincere welt-wishcr, GRANT THORBURN. t In Decomber, 1333, and February, 1834, I mot more than one person in London, who seriously believed that General Washington was born in England. Oh how Basile Hall and Mrs. Trollopo would have stared at each other, had they met such pro found ignorance in Washington City or New-York. tiiokdijkn's JOURNAL. 79 in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. She smiled at the remark, and observed, it \va« very likely to be the first instance of the kind. When we pa 'ted Ihe ducheii said, if there was any thing in the garden or green-houses, in the shape of plants or roots, that I would wisli to take with me to America, to tell the head gardener that it washer wish the) should be properly put up for me. \ mention this, and I eould mention other instances of the same polite attention [received from persons high in Society, not from ostentation, but that those who ead these lines may sec, that what arc termed nohilih/ in Fairopc, arc not all of them the brainless fools that multitude! in this country take them to be ; and to hear my testimony of respect to that worthy family, who have been the chief support of my native town for many generations.* * About fifty yoarn ago, a poor woman living in the parish of Dalkeith, having 1 a favour to ask from the duchess, put on her host Tartan plaid, ami gOSI forth. On tho way, she slops into thohousoofa noighbor gOllip, told wlioro hIio wun going, and asked what sbo should nay wlion hIio spoko to tho ducliCHH. Oh, says tho gossip, you must say your grace. 1 Well, tho old lady arrivod at tho palace, was shown into tho room where the duch- oss gavo audienco to these people. M Well, good woman, " sayu the dttOheil, M what is your wish ?" u For what we are going to roceivo, may tho Fjord make us thankful, Amen." The daohsSI smiled, and repeated her question. " For what wok •• Gil 6 this to \ out mistress, and - sider it s par- ticular favour, u" she will grant me onlj three minutes conversation*" The girl returned immediately, and said, "Will j tlk up stairs!" In the middle of an elegant parlour sat the old lady, her t>\ ared with hooks and writin ••!>. •• B< >od, sir,' 1 said she, " as to hand yourself i - id sit down bj me I am not so able no? to wait upon my friends as I was ird — s printed "Grant Thorbi rn, New-York" sdher fing i "New-York," and obs4 s is a passport dut." We sat and conversed tor hours — the] s, minutes. She he time when Niagara was alv fort on the northern frontier. Herfathei an officer in the r.e stioned there, near!] eight] Site referred to the da] s a ben the Cu] lers, tho Nan Rensselaers, the Schuvlers, tho Delancvs, phrase, l L discuss . or mou most proper. Th« wiso men ©t" London general!) agreed that jujutaraw. rest. TBOBSURM JOURNAL. U\ the lTan Courtlandts, the Tcnl and the Beek- ■ i play f rj :• r ■ OoL VS ij #; ij i info. her that I had the pleasure - acquaint; wild /nun) of the descendants of these old worthies, and that I i ; > rase in no , her film) <\< glistened iritfa pleasure. She rememfc Albany when it contained only two the bank of the river, the otbei (uou ) run- down from tin; old fort on the top of the bilL in the centre of the itreet itood the market. The only bub I i Indian ; and in place of bu< there '■■■>'■ the squaw, with \\' bonny painted clej January 10:':-, ^ as shown the interior of the Rr- i' . . where I saw many ancient and important national documents In a glass case is kept the original copy of the articles of union between Scotland and England, with the personal signatures of all the nobles of both countries. It is dated 22d May. 1700. In another glass case, L saw the original copy ot" n remonstrance from the nobles, earls, barons, freemen, / rnoxni ■!. Of nn'l of the Scottish community to die pope, dated 6th April, 13 It contained the signature o4 each person, whose is in the Instrument, with I appended to 01 ribbon; It. ii written in Latin f in a clear, plain hand, on a iheet of parchment, and i m M4 rears old. It appears that King Ed- •>\ England, finding it impossible to conquer Scotland with the sword, applied to the pope, (this lame Edward, must hare been just inch another poor milk ■:. , as the late King of Spain, whom, the papers inform us, spent all his time in doing nothing swing petticoats,) who issned hi* bull, command- ing j'!l the people in Scotland to submit to the authority of Edward, under pain of excommunication, and that '. on thorn the French, the Germans, the Darn:-. Swedes, English and Irish, and iweep them from the lace of the earth, and send them ?j|Jt<> by thewholesale. The Scotchmen, no way alarmed, coolly replied in substance, that as long as there wore one hundred men in Scotland who could wave a sword over their head, they would neither submit to Edward, to the pope, nor to the devil. It is a trait in the national character oft.hr; Scots, that even the darkest time* <>\ popery, the priests could never lead them so far hy the they did iheir more pliable neighbors, the French, Germans, English, Irish, d&c., in theii twenty-eight years struggle to keep out episeopaey. — (Yon will observe, that episcopacy in England and Arnc, ' otirely different articles — no Lord Spirit- uals here.) They gained for their children a portion of liberty no where else to be found except in America. 96 thoriu-kn's journal. Through the politeness oi one oi the gentlemen in the office, I hid it translated by OD6 of the best Latin lars in Edinburgh, its age ami authenticity, with the simplicity of its style, make it altogether i historical curiosity. tfl translation of a copy of the Letter o/tAs Barons, Boris, Frrrmcn, and of the Scottish Community, to Pope, $tf April, 1380. •' In the DOOM of the Most Holy Father, Christ ami Lord, we, the oodersigoed, (do hereby declare ourselves 10 be) by G oil's providence, the humble servants anil children oi Lord John the high priest, and minister of sacred things at Home, and of the Universal Church; Duncan, Karl of Fife; Thomas Randolph, Karl of Mo- ray ; Lords Mann and Anuandale ; the heir of Dunbar ; Karl of March ; Malicius, Earl of Stratheryne; Lord Malcolm ot' Lennox ; Willelm, Karl of Koss Shire ; Karl of Cathoeaa and the Orkney Isles, and Willelm, Karl of Sutherland: Walter Seneseal Scot ; Willelm of Soulis, the head butler of Scotland: .lames. Ear] of Douglas : Roger of Mowbray : David, K.arl ofBreehio : David oi Graham; Ingeram oi (Jmphraville ; John Guard, of Menteith ; accompanied by Menteith; Alexander Kra- ser, Gilbert oi Hay, and High Constable oi Scotland; Robert of keth. Marshal of Scotland J Henry the Illus- trious: John of Graham ; David of Lindsay: Willelm Olifaunt, heir of Graham ; John of Jenton i Willelmof Abernethy : David of Wemys : Willelm oi the Jixed Mount: Fergus oi Ardross; finstachiua of Maxwell; Willelm of Ramsay ; Willelm oi the High Mount ; Alan of Moray: Donald Campbell: John Cameron: Regi- nald of Chen : Alexander of Seton; Andrew ofLesce- TrroRI'.CK W'f JOf'RNAL. 07 and Mexander of Stratoun, and other Baron nen, and of the whole community of the Kingdom of Scotland Pfot only, oh moat holy Father, do wt the filial r< poet, itfi which devotees kiss the feet of Saints, hut wo also gather, both from the deed ill'- ancients, thai our nation, to wit, that of Scotland, has been illustrious for many g doits. (Oor nation) coming ii hla .Major, passed the pillare of Hercale , and coming through Spain, re for many yean among vei t nations, and who wett ibjection to no man- Then, after a lapse of twelve hundred years, they came Nike the Israelites in their c) and dwelt in those habitations nowpoc by the exiled Britons and Picts, who are nevertheless nearlj de itroyed by the fierce engagements which they hare had with the Norwegians, Dacians, and English, by which they bare acquired many victories and toila ; ami have showed that their children were free from all Slavery from their forefathers. Thus far does history hear oh ns. En this kingdom, they had one hundred and thirty kings of their own of the royal blood, and no foreigner taking possession. But He, by whom nobles reign, and others shim:, with great effulgence, even the Kin/ of kings, oui Lord Jesus Christ, appointed by his most holy faith, afier his passion and resurrection, that they should dwell in the uttermost parts of the earth, as if they had inhabitants. Nor did he wish, that they should be Confirmed in their faith, by any one, but by their first Apostle, although second, or even third, in rank, to wit, our most gracious Andrew the German, whom He always wished to preside over them as their patron, instead of St. Peter. But our forefathers, and moat holy predecessors, thinking anxiously that that kingdom, (of Germany, to wit,) belonged by special 9 lis THORBURN i journal right to St. Peter ! sanctioned the name by many favours, and innumerable privileges* Wherefore our nation had thus far led i quiet end peaceeble life, under their protection, till that greet prince, Edward, king of the English, and father of him who is hostilely, (and yet under the appearance of a friend ami anally,) infesting our (peaceful) bulwark, kingdom and people, conscious of neither guile nor mischief, ami unaccustomed to wan ami insults, (at least, at that time*) Edward (whom wr have above mentioned) committed damages, carnage, anil wrongs, plunder and incendiarism, has incarcerated the prelates, burned the religious monasteries, spoiling them as ho laid them in ruins; ami having committed other enormous grievances, and among the rest, has, among the common people! spared neither ago. nor sex* religion, nor rank. Mo pen is capable of writing; not is the understanding capable of comprehending ; neither can experience teach, to the full amount, the innume- rable e\ ils in which ho delights: hut yet wo are deliver- ed by our most valiant prince, king, ami lord, Robert, Mho. after ho was cured and healed of his wounds, has, Hko another Maccabeus, or Joshua, (reed his poeple from the hands of his enemies, ami has suffered Labours, toils, troubles, ami dangers, even bordering to death. He also has a benign disposition, and is obedient to the laws and eustoms. whieh we will sustain even to death. The succession pf the law, and the debt whieh we were all due, made us assent and agree that he should be our chief end king, as being the person through whom safety accrues to the people, and who is the defender of our liberty, alike In his kindness and by dint offeree ; and to whom we wish to adhere in every thing, and de- sist from undertakings with the English king ami sub- jeets. who. forsooth, wish that we and our kingdom be 99 subject to thetnf, and that ire should Instantly dethrone our king, at the sub vers or alike of their and our rights, and that we. should choose another who ii capable of our defence; but ire declare that, as long as a hundred Scotsmen can beany where found to stand together, the English will never be out roasters — for we do not fight i'<>r riches, glory, noi honour, but only for that liberty which no man loses except it be accompanied by his life. Hence it is, oh reverend Father and Lord! that we entreat your holiness, with =:JI manner of supplica- tion, instance, and bending of hearts and knees, and that we hare thus far recited the ricissitndes of our nation, e sojourning among the nations of the earth hare neither been a grievance upon grievance, nor an honour. Jews are! Greeks, Scotch or ESnglish, who look with a father'* eye at the troubles and trials brought upon us and the church of God by the English, will see that the English king ought to he sufficed with what he posses- ses, and will look back to the lime when England was wont to be pleased with seven kings to warn and rebuke those who required it. But there now remains nothing for us Scotsmen, living as we do in exiled Scotland, beyond which there is no habitation — there is nothing but for Edward to depart in peace, seeing that we d< it — for it concei as him, with respect to you, to gfant, and it is our desire effectually to procure the peace of the state, whatever way wo can. O holy Father! we beg you to grant this — you who lookest at the cruelty of Pa- gans, with the existing faults of Christians, and the ser- vitude of Christians, not lessening the memory of your holiness, though your empire is hounded by the Indies. If any thing be wanting (to show your holiness the true character of the English) behold the ignominy and reproach under which the church labours in these your 100 mount un's .ioik>.u timet) this should* therefore, act as an incentive tu arouse tome Christian chiefs, w ho make no im ott \i. ami n no reason ^iu-Ii as iliai they arc ai war w Lib their libours)why they should not frame themselves into a bod] tor the protection of ths hoi) lend; but there*] i- of this pretence is. thai the] think it requires Less exertion, to ctxr] on war with theii loss powerful i. ( hhonrs. Hut it" tho English king leavens in peace, wo also will £0 and die in ths hoi) land, if such be the will of our Lord and sovereign. But the English Kino knows enough not to be ignorant, that we hereb) -how and declare to tho Vital of Christ, and to the whole Christian world, that if your holiness do not deal jusil\ between them and us, confusion will Lnevitabl) take place — the destruction of oui bodies— -ths exit of oui souls— and the other inconvenient consequences which will follow, and which we believe the) have imputed to us. snd w hich w o ha\ q dons tvi them. From n bat u s are end will be. as well from the obedience with which sre, as your children, keep our tenets, as from ths good feeling which exists between us and you, our head ami judge, wo trust our cause will be looked after, thinking ■J o » and hoping firmly, that you will deal rightly with us. and will reduce our enemies to nothing, and w ill pre- serve the safet] of your holiness, who hast been this good while head of this holy ehureh. This was dated at the monastery of Abirbrothoe. in Scotland) 6th April. lovO. and in the loth year of our kingdom, under our kino above mentioned. My next \ isit was to the Museum of the Royal Societ) of Burgeons, and the day following to the Anatomical Museum, and dissecting rooms in the College. The professors and other gentlemen showed me marked attention. TBOBBVBW'l journal. 101 In one of the Itrgfl rooms is kept the collection which belonged to the late Dr. Hunter of London. Th said to ho the largest and beit anatomical collection in Europe. In visiting these Lnftitutiom the mind ii lost Vou there fee the human frame in all its- parts, inward .-ifi'l outward, Slid in <''ll its form:-, and deformities. iiut fOlnmei could not Contain the matter that might be written on these subject! ; and perhaps in no language could the inbject he expressed in inch emphatie words, as in the 199th Psalm — "Vie Ate fearfully and teoB* derfully marie." ffn the College, I h-'ivv the skeleton of JJurk, the man who was hanged in Edinburgh some years ago tot u.\\i<\l<\ tO I;': O tl -I P td ''''"' I ,ui *-.]«:/ \iy.i.:t D from tin: United .St.:;. 1 ' .-.. ii<: OP* .. that " it if computed, thateightyth< 01 Infidel*, oxi - York ;>Jon^ iTork '''>'■ not eotitain eighty thoufand men altogether, rood) bad, and indifferent But I w i J J bet ; I trunk it WM about tjlil tlllM Ig0 v/lxm ||j i ■'. .Miy Wright (a Sfcotawoman, Midi of ee price i.o oui country,) by the aid i>f thirty #f forty Infidel >, moat, U not ajj, of them Euroj wed ,jj building* which they dedicated to the God of j\;j t.ur *-, under the name of " The Temple of early twelre months Mi v. Pann ration* of | until rabble, the of. ihe occasionally officiating m the Godden of R< Pat (deifcp being both unpopular and unJafhioneblc in York.) the unhappy fi unable to j,.->y /or the buildings the i ght« [f and i . now oecupied by the methodiati m a <;fnjj,<;j, a/here the goa pel if preached* InN< there arc two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants; then aJUo above one hundred and fifty churches, chap* meeting-ho the ministers receive (ton one le three tbouaand dollars per annum. It if, therefore, not true, that the miniaters ire treated with di jt. true, thai | not well paid. H , forty yoar;-. m .V:',v-York, arid lately spent three months, about Loudon, Lrrerpoo), and ivijfjt; irgh ; but* from all I bevc teen, J think UM nioum'UN's joruNAt. there is more external respect paid to the Btbbath in New-York, than in any of the above eitios. As a proof of khia at jerti m, J v ill state, then \> i law of the *- i i > which fives each church the privilege of stopping up the street opposite the place of worship, in the tine of service, bj fastening an iron ehain across the street; a decent regulation this, which perhaps no city in Britain Otn boast o(. i am, &c Grant Th or burn, of New-York. The Evening Courant is a warm church and ! paper. The seporotton papers all over the country, republished this letter with numerous remarks. There wm a targe separation meeting to bo held in Edin- burgh the week following, Two gentlemen called to sco it I would attend, ami state what 1 know about the American churches Bays 1. "Gentlemen, when Washington was the firs! President of the United States, 1 was naturalised, l wish all the world enjoyed the same religious ami civil privileges that we da But, as 1 have neither Km nor part in your church ami staid wore 1 even competent to the task, n would bo highly improper in mo to open my mouth in public vn the subject. I saw my adopted city scandalised, so 1 thought I hail a right, being on the spot, to speak in hot- indi- cation." They acknowledged the propriety of my re- marks, and so it ended. 1 made some inquiries, but could hoar of no presbj lorian minister in Scotland, except Mr. Fraser from Mew Jersey. I called at hislodings. \\c denied being the author — said his views wont with the scparationistt. Holy rood House, long- the palace of the kings of Scotland, was founded by King David 1- A. P. 11 »S. THORBVRir'f ;or:i(NAi.. J 05 ;in'Theking, ivhile hunting bn one of the ioy;il forests v/nich surrounds the . and hills near Edinburgh — observe, thii was on rood day (or the day of the exaltation oi the arose) — wan attached by b stag, and erould bare fallen a sacri- fice to its i'ury, when lo ! an aim, holding 111 Its hand a crass of the moat dazzling brilliancy interposed bett him and the enraged bea t- At. sight of the eroas, the animal fled away in great fright, bowling into tin; wil- derness. So out <>i gratitude foi thif great deliverance, lie erected the :\\>\».y on the pot. Immediately ebove the <\<><>v of the sbbey in a small square tablet, with the following ineeripti II*. shall build Ane ho For My Name, And I will i. sblisfa the Throne of J I i h Kingdom Por liver. In this abbey, emong tin: crumbling monuments of a thousand generations, the trophies of war end emblems of royalty, is a plain stone with the following inscrip- tion : Heir, Lyin, Ane, ilonest Woman Calet, Marget IJakster, SpoVs-to-Bartle^H-Meltrn, 100 TllORlU'KN « JOURNAL. Dtk # *MtJier*BurgetfOf*ye*GaDeii*gtit| Dt,-ee su 4691 >lemem-To-Mori. The above la an extol copy, letters, spelling, marks ami figurea. In fancy, 1 ran eled for hours In this ancient structure, among the bonea and the acullai Ike Bcenea and the ac« tors, who have all made their axit) during the short dance oft thousand fenerations, In going the rounds of the palace, we enter a long narrow chamber, evidently partitioned off from what had been originally one large parlour, As you enter the door, is the spot w here Etisiio waa murdered, There is still to be aeon a black stain on the hoards of some foot in circumference, said to be occasioned by the blood which was left unwashed till next morning. The queen, it is said, to hide this frightful spot from daily meeting her, eyes, had the partition above mentioned run aoroaa ihr room. Next to the presence chamber is a small room 10 feet square. In this room, the queen Was Bitting at supper with the Countess ot Argyle, tbout S o( the clock, on the 0th ol Mareh 1660. There is a private stair which leads from the chapel and a se- eret door to enter this room; this door is concealed hv tapestry, remnants ot' whieh are yet hanging. And is probtbl) the same that was rudel\ brushed aside by (lie mailed hand ot' the iron-hearted Kulhven, or lifted to admit the stately form Of Darnley. Through this door the king conveyed himself, Lord Ruthven, (in full ar- mour,) George Douglas ami two others. Rinio Bat on * A short sword. ruonmvmwM jovumal. 107 ide ol the room. i m ent of ': the <\U<;Cti and eOUUfc <) them enter irith their nal be fled to the queenam berarm* TheririBanfl olio bei b n e bin from - Into anotht parlotrr, and dragged bim loan outer ehaml bo ; 'U the time crying most pitifully to tj.< till t: theii ' .\ot long niter I ered of ;j son, M- ".< | V L) It ,rble nature. He submitted to the mortifying censures of the church in all their contemptible details. No sooner, however, had the term of his punishment expired, thr.n, overwhelmed with shame and disgust, he left his native town, and sought on the broad ocean the sea-room which had been denied to his restless spirit at home. After an absence of several years, during which he had endured the solitude of Juan Fernandez, he returned to his native town. He brought with him the gun, sea-chest, and cup, which he had used on the uninhabit- ed island. He spent nine months in the bosom of his family — then went away on another voyage, and was never more heard of. The house in which this remarkable person was born still exists. It is an ordinary cottage of one story and a garret ; it has never been out of the possession of his family since his time. The present occupant is his great-grandniece, Catherine Selkirk, or Gillies, who inherited it from her father, the late John Selkirk, who * In my youth, I have seen a young man and woman strnd up before a whole congregation, and receive a rebuket for bundling, three months before marriage. t A custom, or relic, of popery. 13 116 thorburn's journal. was grandson to the brother, with whom Alexander had the quarrel, and died so late as October 1825, at the age of 74. Mrs. Gillies, who has very properly called one of her children after her celebrated kinsman, to prevent, as she says, the name from going out of the family, is very willing to show the chest and cup to strangers applying for a sight of them. The chest is a very strong one, of the ordinary size, but composed of peculiarly fine wood, jointed in a remarkably com- plicated manner, and convex at top. The cup is formed out of a cocoanut, the small segment cut from the mouth supplying a foot ; it was recently mounted with silver, at the expense of the late Mr. A. Constable, the celebrated bookseller in Edinburgh. The gun,, with which the adventurer killed his game, and which is said to be seven feet long, has been alienated from the family, and is now in possession of Major Lumsdale. • CHAPTER XXIL A Chapter of Incidents out of place — Monument of Lady Nightingale — my Trunk lost and recovered — Ser- vants in London — a Noble Party — the King and Scotch Cook. In the chapel of St. John and St. Michael, (West- minster Abbey,) is the monument of Lady Nightingale. It was executed by Roubiliac, and is remarkable for the beauty of its workmanship. A fine figure of death is coming out of a tomb ready to hurl his dart. The hus- band is represented as standing between the monster and his beautiful wife, endeavouring to ward off' the blow. Itisvain ! This old experienced marksman never missed — neverwas bribed by worth, youth, or beauty ; the dart strikes the vital spot — she sinks — she dies ! It is a very interesting sight. On the 1st of March, at 2 P. M., I left Liverpool on the Manchester rail-road, on my way to London, where I intended to ship. When we pay for our seat in the car, we receive a ticket, bearing the number of the seat we are to occupy. The car contains six seats in the form of an arm chair, and are numbered. In my front sat a respectable looking gentleman, whom, from his dress, I presumed belonged to the society of Friends. We soon entered into conversation. Our jour- 148 thorburn's journal. ney from Liverpool to Manchester, a distance of 30 miles, occupied one hour and thirty minutes. When the car stopped, we were still in earnest conversation. As we stepped out, my friend observed — " friend Grant, as thou art a stranger in these parts, if thee will put thyself under my direction, and walk along to my dwell- ing, on the way we pass the office of the stage which goes on for London at 8 o'clock this evening. We can secure thy seat ; then step to my house, partake of a cup of tea, and sit with my famih till half past seven. It will be more agreeable, than to sit three hours in a ho- tel among strangers." As this kind offer exactly agreed with my notions of propriety in these matters, I thanked him sincerely, and accompanied him on the way. It was now 4 P. M. On arriving at his house we partook of an excellent cup of tea, and was engaged in a pleasant family fireside conversation. At a quar- ter past 7, I drew out my watch, while I was tracing the figure, my friend observes, " friend Grant, thee seems to carry very little baggage, to have travelled so far." I sprung on my feet, says I, "I have lost my trunk ; what shall I do?" Says he, " we will call a carriage and try." You will observe, it now wanted only 40 minutes to the time of starting. We drove to the office of the cars — could get no intelligence of the trunk — said when the cars stopped they were all placed on the ground ; and if passengers left their baggage, it was at the mercy of any one who might carry it off, as no goods were re- ceived in the office, except at the request of the owner* and on his entering his name. Gladly would I now have given 50 pr. ct. to have insured my trunk. We then drove to different hotels and omnibus offices — finally found the trunk among a heap of others at one of the hotels. We reached the stage office, saw my trunk secured on thorburn's journal. 149 the top, and took ray scat just two minutes before start- ing. In common phrase, I think my falling in with this gentleman one of the most fortunate incidents of my journey; but for him, I really believe I would not have recovered my trunk ; one thing is certain, I would not have got it that night, and of course would have lost my passage in the stage. My mind was in that state of anxiety, 1 was incapable of acting with discre- tion or maki:ig a cool inquiry; while he was prompt, active, well known and respected ; as I could see, by the alacrity and attention paid to his inquiries wherever we went. When I thought of my stupidity in walking off with only my cloak on my arm and umbrella in my hand, and leaving my trunk, which I had safely carried through a five months journey, and now to lose it on the last day of my route ; when I remembered that I had not a change of clothing, and that all my books, pictures, papers, and curiosities, which I had been gathering with so much trouble and care, were in that trunk; I say, when I thought of this, (the thought did not drive me mad.) it made me feel as 3tupid as any simple fool ever fell when left to wander in his own counsels. Mr. C is a respectable member of the society of Friends, and an extensive manufacturer of crapes in Manchester. I care not a cent for the epithet enthusi- ast. I firmly believe in the doctrine of a particular Providence ; and that I was directed in the way of this man as the means of getting my feet out of this scrape. Had he been five minutes later in his remark about the smallness of my baggage, 1 certainly would have lost my passage — would have lost a night and a day, and probably my trunk. 13* 150 thorburn's journal " There is a divinity doth shape our endg : Rough hew them as we will." [Cowper. " As falls a sparrow to the ground, Obedient to thy will ; By the same law those globes wheel round, Each drawing each, yet all still found In one eternal system bound One order to fulfil." [Brougham. I arrived in London next day about sun down. It is amusing to see the deference paid to dress and ap- pearances by the livery servants in London. They seem to be more tenacious on this point than most of their masters. If you approach the door, except you come in a carriage of some sort, no matter how mean, you are hardly treated with civility. I went to deliver a letter of introduction to a gentleman in Russell Square on foot — rang'. The liveryman looked from a door in the area of the cellar. " What's wanting ?" says he. "Is Mr. W. within?" says I. "He is gone out."— 11 When he comes in give him this letter and card," says I. Next day Mr. W. called at my dwelling, having his lady, two children, a young gentleman, and himself in an elegant carriage, a coachman before, and this same livery servant behind. Being called, I went to the carriage. Mr. W. came out, insisted on going in the house. I wished him not to leave his family in the street. He came in however, conversed ten minutes, gave me his address, with an invitation to dine that and every other evening at 6 o'clock while I was in Lon- don. I always dined with him from that day, when my other engagements would admit. But I was much thorburn's journal. 151 amused to see with what pointed attention I was treated by this same servant next time I called — as taking off my surtout, hanging up my hat, &c, after he had seen the polite manner in which his master had answered my call. On one occasion I dined at Lord B's. There were twelve at the table, and six servants in splendid livery to wait on them. I put on my best black suit, and looked as smooth as a country parson.* I had got a few glimpses at high life previously, sol felt some con- fidence in myself. The mistress of the feast sat at the head of the table. On her right sat a young lady, a Miss C n. 1 was placed on her right, while the eldest daughter of the family, a girl of seventeen, sat on my right hand. So I was placed between the twa. When I looked at the 'servants with their powdered heads and clothes of scarlet, at the vessels of gold and vessels of silver, at the jars of China and platters of glass, at the lords and the ladies, at the sirs and the counts, at the room, whose seats, sofas, Ottomans and foot-stools, far outshone what we have read of Eastern luxury and splendour, and whose gas lamps and chan- deliers sent forth a blaze more brilliant than their win- ter sun, I thought this was rather going ahead of any thing of the kind I had yet seen, and was rather afraid I might make some blunder. However, I was resolved to maintain my confidence, and make myself at home, like my worthy countryman, Sir Andrew Wylie, at the ball given by the Duchess of Dashingwell in the next square to where I am now partaking of London hospitality. Miss C n was a sociable and intelli- * I came in a carriage on this important business. 152 thorburn's journal. gent girl. We were at home in five minutes. Says I r " Miss, I have seen some fine parties at Edinburgh,. Glasgow, and Liverpool, but this is rather carrying the joke a little farther than any thing I have seen yet ; I am afraid I may go wrong. I am something like the old woman in Scotland, who went to dine with the minister ; so if I can't get on you must help me along." She said she would. " But what of the old lady in Scotland ?" said she. Says I, " I have heard my father relate the story years ago, (it happened in the parish where he lives,) and I heard him relate it again last week. (She was much surprised to hear he yet lives in his 91st year.) "On a certain market day, Marga- ret, the wife of a neighboring farmer, in addition to her load of hens, geese, and turkeys, brought a small bas- ket of eggs as a present for her minister. Having sold off her load of sundries, she wends her way to the par- sonage. After inquiring how he, the wife, and aw' the bairns did, she says, "I hae brought ye twa or three collar (fresh) eggs for the good wife, to help her youl bannocks" (Christmas cakes.) The eggs were kindly received, and being dinner hour, she was invited to stop and take her kail. " Na, na" says Margaret, " I dinna ken hu to behave at great folks' tables." "Oh, never mind," said the minister, "just do as ye see me do." Margaret was persuaded, and sat down at the table. It so happened that the minister was old and well st icken with age, and with all had got a stroke of the palsey. In conveying the spoon from the cup to the lip, the arm being, unsteady, the.soup was apt to spill on the ground ; therefore, to prevent damage be- falling his garments, it was his custom to fasten one end of the table-cloth with two stout pins to the top of his waistcoat, just under the chin. Margaret, who sat on thorburn's journal. 153 the opposite corner of the table watching his motions, immediately pins the other end of the cloth to a strong homespun shawl, right under her chin. She was at- tentive to every move. The minister deposites a quan- tity of mustard on the edge of his plate. Margaret, not observing this fugal exactly, carries the spoon to her mouth. The mustard soon began to operate on the olfactory nerve. She had never before seen mus- tard. She thought she was bewitched. The girl coming in with clean plates opens the door. Margaret makes one spring, upsets the girl, plates and all, sweeps the table of all its contents : the crash adds speed to her flight. The minister being fast to the other corner, was compelled to follow as quick as his tottering limbs could move. He held on to the railing. The pins slipped. Away went Margaret, and never looked back on the par- son's door." Miss C n laughed aloud at the con- clusion. Some of the company inquired the cause, so, by way of explanation, I was compelled to repeat the story. The conversation turned chiefly on the conceit and pride, &c, of the Americans. I observed, that they had much to be proud of, such upright statesmen and honest politicians as Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton, Jay, Franklin and others, perhaps no other country could boast of. This was assented to ; and with regard to ships, none can build, sail, or fight like them. Some remarks (from Hall, Trollope and Fiddler's Men and Manners) being made about the ladies, I said I firmly believed there was not a lady in America, but would sooner suffer the pains of martyrdom, than expose her person, as their women do at the pantheons, theatre and opera boards. These and similar sentiments which I .maintained in conversation pleased many, but were 154 thorburn's journal. rather cutting to a few. I observed to them, (by the way of soothing,) that the Americans originally sprung chiefly from Britain ; therefore, they ought not to be jealous, because their sons and daughters had not de- generated. The conversation took a turn, and was maintained for some time on the national character of the Scots, their intelligence, industry and enterprise ; their steady habits, respect for religion and attachment to the Bible. A gentleman, by way of a case in point, related the fol- lowing anecdote, which, though not quite original, is well worth preserving. The King and his Scotch Cook. The witty Earl of Rochester, being in company with King Charles II., his queen, chaplain, and some minis- ters of state, after they had been discoursing on busi- ness, the king suddenly exclaims, "Let our thoughts be unbended from the cares of state, and give us a gene- rous glass of wine — that cheer eth, as the scripture saith, God and man." The queen hearing this, modestly said she thought there could be no such text in the scrip- tures, and that the idea was but little less than blasphemy. The king replied he was not prepared to turn to chap- ter and verse, but was sure he had met it in his scrip- ture reading. The chaplain was appealed to, and he was of the same opinion as the queen. Rochester suspecting the king to be right, and being no friend to the chaplain, slipped out of the room to inquire among the servants if any of them were conversant with the Bible. They named David, the Scotch cook, who al- ways carried a Bible about him ; and David being called, recollected both the text, and where to find it. THORBURN ? S JOURNAL. 155 Rochester ordered him to be in waiting, and returned to the king. This text was still the topic of conversa- tion, and Rochester moved to call in David, who, he said, he found was well acquainted with the scriptures. David appeared, and being asked the question, pro- duced his Bible, and read the text, (Judges ix. 13.) The king smiled, the queen asked pardon, and the chaplain blushed. Rochester then asked the doctor if he could interpret the text now it wa3 produced ? The doctor was mute. The earl, therefore, applied to David for the exposition. The cook immediately replied, " How much wine cheereth many our lordship knows : and that it cheereth God, I beg leave to say, that under the Old Testament dispensation, there were meat-offer- ings and drink-offerings ; the latter consisted of wine, which was typical of the blood of the Mediator, which by a metaphor was said to cheer God, as he was well pleased in the way of salvation he had appointed. Whereby his justice was satisfied, his law fulfilled, his mercy reigned, his grace triumphed, all his perfec- tions harmonized, the sinner was saved, and God in Christ glorified." The king was surprised at this, evangelical exposition. Rochester applauded, and after some severe reflections upon the doctor, very gravely moved, that his majesty would be pleased to make \ke chaplain his cook, and this cook his chaplain. CHAPTER XXIII. A Conversazione — Mr. Irving and the Irvingites — A Visit to the Packet — A Street Juggler. I was next invited to -make one of a party., or as the card sent me specified, a conversazione, to be at the place at 10 A. M. The door was attended by two ser- vants in proper costume ; to one I gave the card I re- ceived, and while he carried it to his master, the other was helping off my coat, hat, and securing my umbrella. He affixed to them a ticket, and gave me the correspond- ing number, to prevent an exchange. I thought in my case this precaution was unnecessary, as I stand within an inch of five feet, and they were all great men. The master appeared, when I was presented in form. I thought, on the whole, it was a very pretty and a very rational affair. The gentlemen were chiefly literary and scientific characters. The ladies, were women of taste and refinement ; in fact, it was a real show of natu- ral and artificial curiosities. Almost every guest brought with him or her some contribution to the evening's amusement. Many of the gentlemen had lately been in far countries, and had with them the fruits of their industry and taste. There were plants, flowers, draw- ings, paintings, prints, minerals, shells, petrifactions, thorburn's JOURNAL. "5? &c. &c. ; but among all the wonders of nature and art there displayed, nothing appeared so remarkable in my eyes, as the skin which was cast off from a man's hand after the manner of a snake. This article wa:. produced by a physician, who gave us a well authenti- cated account of the circumstances of the case. The man was a respectable farmer not far from London, an 1 was subject to some sort of fever, -which se^ed him regularly every five years. On recovering from the fever, the skin came off from his hands nearly .s et m plete as a pair of gloves. The specimen I saw was in this state. There was only a small rent on one of the fingers, I think on the left hand. So frequent had this circumstance occurred to the man, that it was usual for some physician or neighbour to engage from him the skin ol his hand a twelve-month or more previous to its coming off. I had seen nothing, where I found my- self so much at home, and to my liking, as at this party. I was the only non-resident in the company, and re- ceived more than my own share of attention. A number of rooms were thrown open, where the walks were hung, and the tables covered with the wonders and curiosities aforesaid. In another very spacious hall, a table was spread with every thing to tempt and satisfy the appetite. There was tea, coffee, wines and cakes, pies, pastry and confections. The company was in pairs and in parties, walking and talking, sitting and admiring, eating or drinking, just as fancy or feeling inclined. The lord and lady of the manor led me from room to room, introducing me to every group, party, and coterie. A lady asked me to write my name on the back of her card. This was only the beginning, not of sorrow but of scratching. The request — and 14 158 thorburn's journal. mine, and mine, reiterated by many, till the cards fell on the table before me, as thick as snow flakes on a winter's morning. A young lady presented her card — it was a very large one ; and by way of variety in the scene, a thought came into my head. I wrote it thus : — THE CARD. GRANT THORBURN & MISS ANNA SEYMOUR. t I wrote my name & — jus.t above her name on the face of the card. The card flew round the room crea- ting a laugh — all that was intended. This procuring of signatures is a very prevailing foi- ble among the good folks in Britain at this time. I was shown books by many, where I saw the signatures of "Washington, Bonaparte, Pitt, Fox, Sir W. Scott, &c. They are often procured at considerable trouble and expense. Sometimes by writing to the person whose name they wish, making some frivolous inquiry, and paying the postage. When the answer comes back, their end is attained ; they cut off the signature, and paste it in their book. If you are at their house, and thorburn's journal. 159 they wish your name, you are requested to write it in their book. The company began to disperse, and I was sent home in a carriage at 2 o'clock A. M. The streets in London, except by the bank, the exchange and custom-house, are nearly as much crowded at midnight, as they are in the middle of the day ; but their fine police keeps all in order. Having heard much of the far-famed Mr. Irving, I went with a friend to judge for myself. Though I reached the door half an 1 Dur before the time appoint- ed, it was with much difficulty we could force an en- trance. By the time he got about the middle of his harangue, the crowd increased to a real mob. From sq eezing and jostling they soon came to blows, and for some minutes there was a real set-to. A party of the police, who are ever at hand, made a forcible entry, carried away half a dozen, shut the doors, and restored order. For some time I was in more danger, to all ap- pearance, than ever I had been either on land or water. When the fight commenced below, I stood at the top of the gallery stairs. A rush from the gallery pressed all before them downwards, and a rush from the door pressed all before them upwards — women screaming and fainting, men cursing, boys swearing ; some bawling for their hats, canes, and umbrellas; some singing out, take care of your money, pocket-books, &c. In the mean time, I was in danger of sufiocation, being in the heart of the crowd. I finally got hold of the banisters. There I could breathe ; but the danger appeared to in- crease. Another shout below, and another rush from above. The banisters began to crack. I expected next moment to be precipitated on the heads of the people twenty feet below, with some hundreds on my 160 thorburn's journal. back. The police-men opened the doors, the crowd rusi.ed into the street, the passage was cleared, and I made my escape, resolving never to enter Mr. Irving' s chapel more. Irving' s discourse was neither a sermon nor a lecture, an exhortation nor an oration, but a rambling, incompre- hensible harangue, of high sounding and great swelling words, bombast and jingle ; words thrown out by the yard, without sense or meaning. And this he continued, as I learned afterwards, for upwards of two hours. — The substance of what he said is comprised in twenty or thirty scripture words, viz : "And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they all spoke with tongues, and tongues sat on them like fire. Your sons, and your daughters shall prophecy, your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams." — Dreamer, indeed, thought I. Now, you have only to get some long, lank, thin, pale-faced looking Yankee, with straight, sleek black hair, smoothly combed over his forehead, ears, neck, and shoulders — let him stand for the space of two whole hours, repeating the above scraps of texts, and that loo at the top of his lungs, then you may fancy to yourself, that you are just hearing- one of Mr. Irving's sermons, in St. Martin's Lane, Lon- don. There is no doubt but his mind is alienated ; but it is rather strange that he has collected about one hundred and fifty crazy mortals to become his deciples. The most conspicuous of his apostles is Mr. Drummond, the great London banker, a man whose income is esti- mated, by those who know him, to be not less than £30,000 sterling a year. However these things are neither new nor uncommon. I remember of seeing in Scotland, about the year 1783, a company of forty or fifty- men and women led out into the wilderness by a Mrs. THORBTJRN S JOURNAL. 161 Buchan. They said they were travelling to Jernalem, from whence they were to get on the top of Mount Olivet, and then ascend to heaven. This woman had in her train a presbyterian minister, and a lawyer of eminent practice. These people never got farther than the coast however ; their funds got low, when each man returned to his own home. In late years too, Hannah Southcott led in her train, (in England,) a com- pany of men and women, some of them we~e very re- spectable. They were all engaged with her in some such wild goose chase, as the Buchanites in Scotland fifty years ago, and the Irvingites in London at the present day. On leaving such a scene, the only feeling which a serious and candid hearer could cherish, was one of anger, sympathy, and sincere sorrow, that such pitiful exhibitions of human weakness should be so held forth under the character of divine worship. The proceed- ings of this sect, since their first appearance, has given some extraordinary proofs of the wild and wayward wanderings of the human mind from the paths of rec- titude and reason when left to its own guidance. A few days before leaving London, at a dinner party, the conversation took a turn about the American pack- ets — their beauty, accommodations, swift sailing, &c. A lady in the company expressed a wish to see them. I told her I had engaged my passage in the ship Mon- treal, lying at St. Catharine's dock, and if agreeable I would be happy to accompany her on board. Next morning, according to appointment, at 11 o'clock A. M., she called at my lodgings in her own carriage, ac- companied by a young lady, her daughter. It was now the 6th of March, and a most beautiful day, the finest I 14* 162 thorburn's journal. had seen in England. On arriving at the ship, the seamen were lowering heavy casks into the hold with all the soul-stirring music of their usual song. The ladies looked aloft, from stem to stern, and threw their eyes among the forest of masts with astonishment. — (This was the first ship they had boarded.) Captain Champlir. (whose blood and bone is politeness itself) received them on board, and conducted us into the cabin. After showing them the gentlemen's and lady's apartments, cook and steward's conveniences, &c, he set before them wine, biscuit, and American ham. — They had never tasted such ham, never saw such beautiful wood, never thought there could be such a place on board of a ship — why it was more splendid than a parlour. Says I, " Madam, it is only the Ameri- can ships that show such handsome cabins. The Americans pride themselves on fine ships and cabins ; and perhaps there is no country known where such varieties of beautiful timber grows, as is produced in the American forests." When we came on shore, she observed, "Your captain must be an Englishman." — Says I, " Madam, what makes you think so ?" " Be- cause," says she, "he is as polite and dresses as gen- teel as any gentleman." Says I, "Madam, that man is a genuine bred Connecticut Yankee. But, madam, the American c ptains are all gentlemen; many of them have been- to college. It is their learning makes them build such fine ships, sail them so swiftly across the Atlantic, and fight them so well when necessary. — It was never heard, since the world began, that a British frigate struck to a frigate ii any nation after only fifteen minutes fighting, till the ate war, when they struck to the Americans." She smiled, and said, "They are a wonderfv> people." thorburn's journal. 163 When you visit the docks at London or Liver- pool, you pass through gates. The carriage was waiting for us at the gate. Passing along, on our re- turn, I saw on the stern of a ship, the of Bristol, apparently about the same tonnage as the Montreal.. The tide being low, the deck was flush with the wharf, and of course easy of access. Says I, "Ma- dam, here is a fine British ship, if you please we will take a view of her cabin." " With all my heart," says she. We went on board, asked the officer if he would permit us to walk in the cabin. " You are welcome," says he. When we got to the foot of the stairs I walked first. She paused and looked in. I asked her to enter, " O, no," says she, " it will soil my clothes." When we got on shore — " Well, madam," says I, " you see there is a difference between these cabins?" " As much," says she, " as between my parlour and kitchen." I felt a little American pride at this moment. We now entered the carriage, drove to the Royal Bazar and other lounging places ; then to her mansion in Fick- adilly, where we partook of a cold cut and wine. — She was much gratified with what she had seen. — Said she had not spent three hours so much to her liking in many days. Never having been on board of a ship till that day, the novelty of the thing struck her exceedingly. We parted much pleased — she with having seen ships, and I with the favourable impression she had received of the American ships. I again entered her carriage, and was driven to my lodgings just in time for dinner. On the way home, I stopped the carriage for a few minutes to look at a juggler playing his tricks in a public lane near by Regent- street. He had collected around him, with the sound of a drum and 164 thorburn's journal. tabor, a vast crowd. He was throwing balls high in the air, and receiving them on the point of a stick as they came down — and other dexterous pranks. I wondered how their police tolerated such a breach of decorum in so public a place. CHAPTER XXIV. Respect paid the Dead — Solemnity of their Funerals — Precautions against Resurrectionists — Anecdote of the Auld Wives of Leven. There is something very characteristic in the cus- toms, of Europe, with regard to the honours paid to the corpse of their dead. In America, and all warm cli- mates, the dead are generally buried almost before they are cold. In Europe they are kept from four to eight days. Relations, and even distant relations, will come forty and often fifty miles to attend the funeral of a friend; and if not invited, it is considered an a Tont. I remember an instance which happened in Scotland nearly fifty years ago. A cousin of a gentleman's wife died. They resided at a distance of forty miles. When the news arrived of the death and br v ial of the cousin, the lady was highly offended because she had not been invited to the funeral. She spoke long and loud on the subject. Her husband getting tired of the theme, by way of comfort, at length speaks out. "Never mind my dear," says he, " when you die I wont invite them." The lady looked seriously confounded, but said no more on the subject, being thus most matrimo- nially comforted. 166 thorburn's journal. In Britain, every person attending a funeral comes dressed in a complete suit of black. They walk from the house to the grave in a* decent solemn manner. It is rare to see any engaged in conversation. I remember feeling desperately scandalized at the first funeral I saw- in New-York; the bell tolling* — the sexton first, wear- ing a blue coat; two ministers and pall-bearers with scarfs ; next followed the father and his sons, handker- chiefs to their eyes, and I really believe were in deep sorrow. Then followed about two hundred men, dressed in coats of all colours, talking, smiling, and conversing, with the same indifference as if it had been .he 4th of July procession. Says I to myself, the people here must be without feeling and without natural affection. In London, the funerals, even among the middling classes, make a most imposing show. The hearse and horses, all decorated with large and splendid black and white plumes, all nodding and floating in the breeze ; the mourning coaches, the drivers and footmen, the mutes and undertakers, wrapped in black cloth cloaks with white or black bands around their hats and hang- ing far down between their shoulders ; others walking before and on each side of the hearse in the same dress, with long black rods in their hands ; and as they are often hired to mourn by those who have no sorrow at the heart, they hang on a face of grief, which is the very picture of' melancholy itself. They generally bury between 10 and 11 o'clock A. M. I have seen a splendid funeral procession stopped in the middle of the street for nearly ten minutes by the crowd of carts, * This was the custom at that period. thorburn's journal. 167 wagons, and carriages, which are continually rolling, day and night, over their busy streets. One morning I met on the pavement in the neighbor- hood of St. Paul's church, a most solitary funeral pro- cession. It was preceded by two undertakers with their black rods as usual. The pall was supported by six ladies, and followed by only eight more. There was no man following. They seemed to be all nearly or a little over forty years of age; and they were all clad in deep mourning. They looked to me like a company of widows conveying one of their sisters to the cold grave of her husband. Next to the coffin walked two of the oldest — one of them, more than all the rest, seemed sink- ing with sorrow. I thought she might have been the mother. Slow and solemn they moved along, while the throng opened on the right and left to let them pass. St. Paul's tremendous bell was tolling off, his loud and awful sounds. I thought of the dead march from a nunnery. I followed in the rear to view the closing scene. The mother stood by the side of the grave. The beautiful soothing lines of the burial ser- vice seemed to calm the tumult of her soul, and she stood with composure. The corpse was now let down into the grave. She stooped and took a last look. — The sextons commenced filling in the clods of the valley. The hollow sound from the coffin struck on her heart; her tears gushed out afresh — like water's lately pent up * # * I walked from the spot, and mixed with the multitude. The dread of the resurrection-men has induced many of the parishes in England and Scotland to erect towers in their burying-grounds, where a watch is kept all night ; and many, even of the poorer class, bury their dead in cast iron coffins. I saw numbers of those 168 thorburn's journal. coffins piled up in the corners of the church-yards.-— The lid is fastened on with strong screws. The following authentic anecdote will illustrate the feelings of the common people on this (to them) im- portant subject, and being written in the exact dialect of that section of the country, it will be amusing to some readers. Anecdote of the Old Wives of Leven. Leven lies in the parish of Scoony, in Fifeshire, Scotland. The burial-ground is situated about half a mile from the village. The writer of these sheets will never forget the shock he got on preparing to enter this little cemetery. He observed on a long pole over- hanging the road, a board with this laconic and fearfully emphatic inscription, " Take notice — Any person en- tering this church-yard willbe shot." As there was no exception specified in favour of either peripatetic au- thors, or any other harmless class of mortal, he of course abstained from his intended meditations among the tombs ; though not without resolving to make the unapproachability of the burial-ground of Scoonie a little more extensively known. The reader will have no difficulty in referring this formidable advertisement to its proper cause — the alarm which every where prevails regarding resurrection-men. This is a subject of some, importance. The fear of nocturnal attempts upon the tombs of their friends may be said to have succeeded in the minds of the common people. The old superstition regarding ghosts and fairies is rife every where, but observable mostly in sequestered parts of the country. If the people be in the habit of seeing " strange gentlemen" riding and JOURNAL. 169 racing from all parts, to view some notorious curiosity or beautiful scenery — as a stupendous rock or waterfall, they regard them as only " daft," and seem inclined to congratulate themselves on being exempted by Provi- dence from the manias which afflct the better orders of society. But should the case be otherwise, and one or two view-hunters come to their place in a twelve-month, these are, as a matter of course, understood to have "an e'e to the kirk-yard." A young man having lately entered a church-yard in a secluded part of the country, with the view of whiling away an hour in perusing the epitaphs, a decent-looking villager came up and addressed him in something like the following style : " I'll tell you what, my man, if ye ha' na ony particular business to deteen ye i' the toon, ye had just as good gang awa. I've come to tell ye this as a freend ; and, deed, I wad ad- vise ye to pat affas cannily as ye can ; the folk '11 be risin, and ye ken that wadna maybe be very agreeable." It was a good while before the intruder understood the man's drift; but when he did perceive its meaning, he was fain to take the hint for the preservation of his person. This case, however, is nothing to one which occurred in the course of a tour undertaken for the sake of this work at Torpichen, a village in West Lothian, about five miles from a public road. I sought out this place for the purpose of seeing the remains of the preceptory of the Knights of St. John. The ruins lie in the church- yard ; and I made no scruple at entering the little en- closure in order to inspect them. While engaged in this labour of curiosity, I was accosted by an old woman with a very civil observation upon the fineness of the day. She then hinted a supposition that I was a stran- 15 170 thorburn's journal. ger in the country side. I confessed the fact. "Hae ye nae freends here abouts ?" she inquired. "None." " Od," said she, " we dinna like to see fouk comin about our kirk-yard that ha'e na business wi? them. May I speer (ask) what ye're came here for?'' Before I could answer this question, another old lady came up, and apparently resolved to treat me with less delicacy, cried with a loud screeching voice, " Faith, Billy, ye needna think for to come here to play your pranks ; we've as gude a watch here as they ha'e doun at Li-th- gow : there's the house they stay in. And they hae a gun ; Lord, gin ye get a touch o' their gun, ye wad sune be a subjeck yeer'sell ! Gae wa wi' ye ; tr y athgate ; they'll maybe no be sae strick there." " Hout, Katie," said the first speaker in a softer voice, " the gentleman's maybe no come wi' ony sic intention ; he'll just ha' come to see the auld kirk." " Fient a auld kirk is he come to see," resumed the other ; " he's fonder o' kirk- yards than kirks, I'se warrant him. Od, woman, d'ye no see, he's just ane o' thae genteel kind o' chaps that gang after that tred." " Ay," said a third hag, " and div ye observe, he's sutten doun stride-legs on auld Johny Watt's grave, as gin he were already making sure o' him. Oh the blackguard !" Other old women were now gathering round me, alike alive to the horror of my supposed character ; and I could compare the scene of vituperation and disorder which ensued to no- thing but the gathering of harpies round iEneas. — Suffice it to say, that I had at last to make a precipitate retreat from Torphichen, in order to avoid the death of St. Stephen. CHAPTER XXV. Parting with my Father — Conclusion — Friends Part- ing — Yankee's in London — Matrimonial Fracas — Voyage Home. In this world every thing has its pleasures and its pains. In the cabin we were just long enough together to make us feel the pain of parting. When the long looked for day arrives, and we step on shore at our desired haven, then it is that the eye which expected to dance and brighten with delight on the scenes and novelties around, is often dimmed in tears, when we part with those whose faces we shall look on no more for ever. On landing, I bore my share in this feeling. During the four months and fifteen days I sojourned in Britain, this making and parting with friends was a matter of very frequent occurrence. In some cases, of course, the attachment was more strong, and the part- ing more keenly felt. But there seems to be something in our nature that revolts at the idea of a parting for ever. There is a hope, a well-grounded and a rational hope, held out in the gospel, and there only, that friends will meet to part no more. Allowing (as the vain phi- losopher says) it is all delusion, it is a very soothing, and a very consoling, and a very innocent delusion ; 172 thorburn's journal. and it is one which no man of sound mind (whatever he may profess in words) can shake from his soul, viz : the hopes of meeting them he holds most dear in some improved state of existence hereafter. Depraved pro- pensity may wish for annihilation, but the soul still says / never die. When I came to part with my father for the last time, I saw before me a living proof that the hope of the gospel can support nature in the most trying situations. He is now in his ninety-first year. His eyes are dim, so that he cannot discern objects around. I dreaded this day of parting. I knew it was for the last time, and put it off as long as possible ; but time lingers not, the hour came, and the coach was at the door. I held his hand, it trembled not, neither did his voice falter. — " Now," says he, " we part, and except we meet at the right hand of Christ, it will be for ever. Go, and may he who has led and fed me all my life long, go with you." At this moment he stood like Jacob, leaning upon the top of his staff. Thus we separated, on the same spot on which we had parted forty years be- fore. In the course of my walks through the streets and lanes of the cities of London, Edinburgh, &c, I now and then met some of our young Yankee's, sons, not of the prophets, but of the democrats. Young repub- licans, living like sons of the nobles, bang up, in a first rate hotel in Bond-street, paying one guinea per day for board, six shillings sterling for a bottle of wine, and treating a set of fellows (as great fools as them- selves) with this same costly wine. I knew the fathers of some of these boys forty years ago, when they were journeymen mechanics. Now they have become rich, they send their sons to college. The boys learn to THORBTJRN'S JOURNAL. 173 drive tandem, smoke segars, and drink champaign, whereby they will spend as much money at one sitting, as it would have cost their grandfathers, seventy years ago, to have supported a wife and two children for a twelve-month. Then they must needs go to Europe. Just as if they could not learn mischief enough in New- York or Philadelphia, but they must see life in London and Paris, that they may get initiated in all the mid- night revels of noble blackguards and royal fools. In London they learn the works of the devil ; but in Paris they learn hell itself. Better would it have been for some of these young men had their fathers never risen higher than a carrier of brick-bats. I cannot see any one good purpose it serves, or one good thing they can learn. In this country there is schools for the prophets, the merchant, and the lawyer, where every thing may be acquired that is wanted for all the useful purposes of life ; and Europe can learn us no more. And there is the expense too, and that is no trifle. I found every thing in the stages, hotels, and on the roads, rather more than double what we are charged for the same accommodations in this country* I was just six months absent from New- York ; I was lodged by my relations, and fed by my friends in every town where I went. I slept only four nights in hotels during my journey. I practised a strict order of economy, but not so as to in- terfere with my health, comfort, or reputation — for in- stance, I always rode inside, dined with my fellow- passengers, and when I had to put up, it was always at the best hotel in the place ; but then I never suffered them to treat me, and you may be sure I never offered to treat them; yet, notwithstanding all these advantages and precautions, my expenses, including passage mo- ney out and home, amounted to five hundred an-d 15* 174 thorburn's journal. twenty-two dollars. Now I feel pretty well assured in my own mind, that some of those chaps I saw spent four times as much in the same time, and all to no pur- pose that I could see under the sun — (for my own part, I saw all, and done business which paid for all.) Now I thought how much better it would have been to have kept those boys at home, learned them some useful oc- cupation, and then given them the two thousand dollars to commence business. Young men who are studying medicine or surgery, I think, are much to be commend- ed for going abroad to gain information. In walking the hospitals of London, Leyden, and Paris, (and as far as I could learn Edinburgh is inferior to none,) they may add much to their stock in those sciences ; but to see a set of idle, brainless, senseless young fops, flour- ishing about spending money — drawing bills upon their fathers, and coming back ten times more the children of folly than when they went away, is enough to put common sense to the blush. This is republican simplicity with a witness. March 8th. — Having now finished my business, I breakfasted with my friend, and went on board the ship Montreal at 9 o'clock A. M. She was hauling out ; the captain was on shore, and the pilot giving orders. Here one of those matrimonial tragedies took place, which are frequently acted at the sailing of the American packets. A lady, with an officer, came on board, having a ha- beas corpus warrant, in the kings name, ordering all his faithful lieges to bring forth the body of John Doe, or Richard Roe, &c. The officer and lady descended into the steerage, where one hundred and thirty pas- sengers were stowing away their baggage, when lo ! on the top of a chest sat the said John, and snugly by his thorburn's journal. 175 side sat also a second cousin. The lady claimed her husband, "as by the words of the ceremony," says she, ''we are one. I am determined that ail the waters of the Atlantic shall not part us asunder." The man looked like a fool : his partner and the officer escorted him on deck, and marched him in triumph between them up the wharf. The ladies in the steerage now com- menced hooting and hissing the simple young woman. She came on deck, sat down on a block of wood, and began to cry. Says I, " young woman, there is no use to sit whinging- there ; if the captain comes on board he will start you on shore; you better call a porter, pack up your movables, and go to your friends — if they know nothing of the matter, you may keep your own secret; but take care you don't get in such another scrape, as perhaps you wont get out so easy." It was no sooner said than done : in came the porter — away went kegs, bags and baggage ; and away went she — we saw no more of them. . We now commenced squeezing down the Thames amongst a thicket of ships, brigs, and craft of all de- scriptions ; so close were they stowed for the space of six miles, it w T as just like hauling out of a wharf. We made Portsmouth on the 11th, at 6 o'clock P. M. Here and at Cowes lay some hundreds of vessels waiting a wind. Some of them had been wind-bound for a month. But now the wind (which had been blowing from the west for nearly five months) came out from the east, (in accordance with our most sanguine wishes.) Now the cheering sound " out studding-sails" resounded from the deck. The breeze freshens, and away we shoot at the rate of ten knots an hour. We overhauled and passed everything in the channel, amongst them a fine East Indiaman, all sails set, and a steamer lashed to 176 thorburn's journal. each of her sides ; yet, notwithstanding all these arti- ficial helps, we shoot ahead, and leave her to read "Montreal of New York" on our stern. . 12th. — Half past 10 o'clock P. M. All have turned in excepting the watch. I sit on the deck wrapped in my cloak, and wrapped in my thoughts, watching the swelling of the sails by a strong east wind, and thinking of time that is past. I am just entering for the fifth time the Atlantic Ocean. It is five months and three days since I left my family and friends. Goodness and. mercy have followed me hitherto through every step of my journey. I have received the kindest attention from friends and from strangers — have encountered no accident, nor met with a disappointment — have lost nothing by the way save only one pair of gloves* and one pocket handkerchief ; and now my face is again homeward, the wind is fair, and every appearance of a prosperous voyage. A few days before leaving London I was in company with Sir A B . He gave me a box of his own patent pills to prevent sea sickness. I thought of the epetaph which a Spaniard directed to be placed on his gravestone : — " 7 was well — took physic, and died." So the pills are untouched to this day. * Something may be learned from this pair of gloves. I lost the glove belonging to the left hand. I then bought another pair of the same colour and quality. In about ten days thereafter I lost the glove belonging to the right hand ; so by saving the odd glove, and purchasing the next pair of the same color and quality, I still had a complete pair left. Many a pair of gloves might be thus matched and saved, if people only thought of saving the odd ones, and comparing colours. thorburn's journal. 177 From the 12th to the 25th fair winds and fine weather. On that day it blew a gale — hatches button- ed down, dead lights, deck lights, and all light shut out and shut up, the winds and the sea roaring, the waves breaking, over the ship, noise of men and officers on deck, women's hearts, and men's too, failing them be- cause of fear. At 7 o'clock P. M., He who holds the winds in his fist and the waters in the hollow of his hand, SPOKE:— " The storm was changed into a calm At his command and will ; So that the waves which raged before Now quiet are and still." At the height of the gale, a cask on deck broke from its lashings, rolled over one of the seamen and broke his leg. It was well we had two surgeons among our passengers.* This gale was altogether a grand and terrific scene, and showed how impotent is man. Nothing remarkable till April 5th, when, at 10 A. M., we saw land. We were now 24 days out, and would have got in that afternoon, but had overreached our port to the south. We beat back against a strong N. E. wind, which took us two days to accomplish ; so on the 7th, at sundown, we anchered within the narrows. Thus completing a pleasant passage of 26 days from land to anchor. It is at such a moment as this — the anchor drops, the sails are furled, the ship's at rest ; the passengers are gazing and straining their eye-balls to learn something * The man had cvory attention and soon got welL 178 of the soil that from henceforward is to give them sup- port. You stand on the windlass. Your home is in view. In fancy you see the very roof that covers all you hold most dear on earth. I say it is at such a moment as this you would give the universe to know that all is well. You hear nothing. You see nothing on the right hand or the left. Your eye is fixed on the object ahead; and your conversation is within. It is nine weeks since the date of my last letter. Are they alive? May not their habitation be a heap of ruins ? &c. Then busy meddling fancy raises for herself phantoms most hor- rible. Your throat is dry. Your tongue is parched. Your words are only half uttered. This feeling of suspense, for the hour before meeting is more intensely keen than is the day of parting, and all the long months of separation. However, in half an hour after coming to anchor, an acquaintance of my family came on board, and set my unworthy doubts at rest. He knew them all, and all were well. His business w r as with the captain. So I lit my pipe and walked on deck, repeating in my mind the one hundred and third Psalm. It calmed the multitude of my thoughts within me. CONCLUSION. In travelling from port to town, and from town to village ; from hall to rooms, and from rooms to cellars, the only object of sincere observation I think is man. To learn what is man, this strange contradictive, in- consistent being man. Could you congregate the mil- lions that inhabit this globe, so sure as you would not find two faces exactly to correspond, so sure would you not find two men whose views, aims, and ends were exactly the same on any subject ; and yet we are continually persecuting our neighbours with our sword, our tongue, or our pen, because he cannot see as we see, into the same subject. I have visited the hall's of the noble, and the cellars of the simple. I have dined in the parlour with the great, and in Billingsgate lunch among fish-women. On the sea, in the ship ; on the land, in the carriage. I find them all the same incom- prehensible mortals — thinking one thing and speaking another — professing one thing and practising another. On the continent, nearly one half of the population is composed of soldiers, priests, monks, friars, Jesuits and beggars. In England they have noblemen and gentlemen in abundance — bishops, curates, rectors and deans, soldiers and parish paupers ; in fact the poor 180 thorbitrn's journal. laws have turned every parish into a sort of public alms- house. In Scotland they have bishops, curates, &c. ; but then they stand on their own foundation. They are the same there as other dissenters ; the people are not compelled to pay them, neither have they any poor rates ; those who are sick or destitute, are supported in alms-houses ; those who are lazy, are shut up in correction houses and compelled to work. In Ireland they are oppressed with priests, poverty, ignorance, and tithes. With regard to governments, those arbitrary mon- archs who dispose of men's lives, persons, and property at their pleasure — they are contrary to reason, religion, or common sense ; and such are most of those on the continent. But the government of Britain, were it free from the shackles and burthens of the church, is in many respects better than our own ; at least I have a right to think so, in this country of free thinking and free speaking. In Britain, the lives, persons, and pro- perty of men are as well protected by law as they are in this country ; and probably property is better protect- ed — for there property, to a certain extent, is repre- sented — here it is not. Here the votes of the pauper puts the men into office, who tax, assess, cut up and divide your property, while they have nothing to tax and nothing to pay. This may be law, but it is not equity. In Britain they have a new king made to their hand every twenty, thirty, or fifty years, (George III. reigned fifty,) but in America we have a new king to make every four years. To be sure the salary of the British king is very great — greater, perhaps, than all the officers of our civil government put together ; but then the trouble and expense of making our kings so frequently, more than counterbalances to the country all the expense of the British kings. thorburn's journal. 181 In this country, as soon as we have one king placed on the throne (knowing his reign will be short) we commence making a new one immediately. Then all the electoral colleges, from east to west, from north to south, are put in motion — meetings every week, in some places every night, in every town, village, hamlet, district, city, and ward on the con- tinent. One million of men, at the least calculation, are employed three hours every night in the year, (Sabbath not excepted by many,) some making tickets, some forging lies, some making speeches, and some forging slander, and many, very many, getting drunk. Now only think of this, one million of men three hours per night. One man's time is worth twelve and a half cents per hour. Now calculate this, and you will find that our king costs a vast deal more expense to us than the king of England costs his people. But this is not all ; this is only the beginning of trouble — for all the lies, slanders, speeches, tickets, handbills, and showbills are yet to be printed. New newspapers are set up by each party — the printer must be paid, the editor must be paid, the bill-sticker must be paid, and there too is the tavern-keeper, he must be paid — and his is a heavy bill, because each party hire men and give them money to fill others drunk, provided they will vote for their ticket; and even members of temperance societies will give money to buy drink for others, (though they may not drink themselves,) — for in election week, men think they may do what they please, and say what they please. Now see what a vast amount of time and money ig here lost. I hare known one gentleman subscribe $500 for his own hand to support the election of his party. Were we able to ascertain all those sums of money spent at elections, I 16 182 THORBURN'S JOURNAL. do think we would find that a new president costs as mueh as a new king; besides there is the unhappy- spirit of contention which never stops, and every year seems to grow hotter — families are divided, brethren are separated — towns, cities and villages are divided against themselves. If our next door neighbour refuses to think as we think, we will not hire his cart, we will not buy his boots or his shoes, his bread or his beer, his soap or his candles ; in short, we would starve him to death because he differs from us in opinion ; and this is what we call supporting the freedom of speech and liberty of thinking. In some parts of Europe, when they read our jour- nals, and see them filled the year round with election meetings, they think we do little else in America but make kings, priests, and presidents. APPENDIX. A word to the critic and I have done. I hold them all (as WASHINGTON told the democrats) as a set of self-created, blockheads,* meddling with other people's * I think it was in 1794, in his opening speech to Congress that Washington, speaking of the whiskey mobs and unsettled state of the country, assigned as a cause the formation of Tamma- ny and Democratic Societies. He called them self-created societies. The bucktails never got over this. (The wigwam in those days was kept by Martling, on the spot where the Tract Society house now stands.) Runners were sent out ; the council fires were lighted that same night; citizen Mooney was Grand Sachem; long talks were made, and Washington denounced. One imported patriot, just six months from Donnochadee, in his republican wrath, styled Washington a hoary headed traitor! Yes, gentle- men, these ears of mine heard this. There were some hundreds of Americans in the room. I wondered they did not pull the potatoe head from his shoulders. But foreigners then, as well as now, ruled the country. There was citizen Genet, the sans culotte ambassador, appealing from the American government to the mobites. This man, supported by American and imported patriots, was trying to jerk the reigns from the hands of him who but lately reigned in his stately stead to receive the sword of Comwallis. Washington had hard work with the democrats in those days. 184 thorburn's journal. affairs, and forgetting their own. If the public are fools enough to buy books full of nonsense, why that's no concern of theirs. My book and myself got a terrible shaking from these fellows in London last year. Some of them said I spoke about Providence, as if there was not another being in the world worthy of his notice but myself; and seemed to insinuate that I, being so insignificant, was hardly worth his looking at, &c. I cared not the turning of a straw what they said. I know there are millions of beings in the universe more small and despised than myself, and yet they are the objects of his special care. Borne were highly offended because I drew a comparison between the British and American ships of war favourable to the latter. Others said I was a stiff bigoted Scotch presbyterian covenan- ter. I plead guilty to the first charge — but I never was a covenanter. Just for amusement I went to see one of these chaps. I know they write not from ill will, but to fill up their magazines and reviews. He was a good-natured sensible mortal. We spent an agreeable hour ; but the best of the story was, he could not define the meaning of covenanter. I told him he was just about as w 7 ise as some of the troopers in the regiment of Claverhouse, No other man could have kept them in order. He had Hamilton, Jay, and all the revolutionary worthies, with Truth on his side ; so he stood his ground. When Jefferson came in, and with him all the friends of the people, times were altered. They sold our little navy for the price of the anchors, by the way of protecting our trade and coast. So they have kept the pot boiling their own way ever since; and as a majority of the sovereign people desire to have it bo, why it is none of my business. thorburn's journal. 185 of which you have read in Scott's history of Old Mor- tality. One day two of them were sent out to scour the hills in search of whigs; they fell in with a poor shepherd, tending his flocks by the side of a brook, and reading his Bible. He was so intent on the subject, that they were on him before he had time to slip the book under his plaid. (You will observe it was part of their orders to arrest every one where they found a Bible in the house.) " What book have you got there ?" says one of them. " The Divine Oracles" says the shepherd. " Divine Oracles," says the trooper, looking in the face of his fellow. " Do you know the book ?" " Never heard of such a book, (in those days, perhaps, not a man in the regiment could read,) says the second trooper. "What does it tell about?" says the first trooper. " Oh," says the shepherd, " that's muckle ma^er (much more) than I can tell ye ; but there is ye'a lang (one long) story in't," aboot king Pharah, and Joseph and his brethren." " D n Joseph," says the troop er; "Is" there any thing about the covenants in it?" — " Oh yes," says the shepherd, " there's some bits o' stories aboot the covenant o' warks, an' the covenant o' grace." " D n your grace!" says the trooper, (get- ting tired.) "Do you renounce the covenant?" (This was the test.) " Whilk o' them do you mean ?" says the shepherd. The trooper again applied to his fellow. He could not tell. " Any one which you like," says they. " I renounce the covenant o' warks, an 1 a de- pendence ont' from this day and for ever," says the shepherd. " A true tory, by G ," says they, and rode off. My friend of the review laughed well at the ignorance of himself and countrymen. We adjourned to, not a tavern to drink wine, but to his house in Parliament-street, where we drank tea, and spent an 186 agreeable evening with the family. He accompanied me to my lodgings. On the way, going through the crowd, side by side when we could, or Indian file as we might, a young man in a hurry pushed me against a dandy. He turned and cursed me for a Quaker son of a b h. I thought my coat had saved my hide, as Franklin's spectacles saved his eyes. By the by, I was told that those reviewers are often hired by the same publisher, one to write up and another to write down their books. By this means the public begin to wonder, and are anxious to see what sort of book it is, and so they sell. I have no doubt but it is true, for in London they resort to every sort of device to draw attention. One day a man, standing at the corner of a street, put into ray hand a card headed DON'T BELIEVE IT," James Lancaster has not removed from No. 223 Strand, but continues to serve out to his customers, &c. &c. — Many have on their sign boards, under their name, the number of years they have done business in that house : as John Thomas, Wine Dealer, since 1794. Thus signifying that he is a man of steady habits to reside and do business in the same house for. forty years. I saw some stating that father and sons had done business on the same spot for one hundred years and upwards. In Paternoster Row, I was in a book es tablishment where the same firm had existed for two centuries and more. thorburn's journal. 187 In New-York we get through our business with more expedition. As far as I can recollect, there is only one house in existence that done business in the city when I first saw it forty years ago. FINIS. tontA ^J> _, t, <5 & -A -CL^ V >c? %^ c3 -*^i» ''♦S - ^s ^<* ^ ^ ^0« ^0* cH a ^/><< <£>