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which, with his usual rancour towards his own countrymen, he does not fail to stigmatize as a disgraceful transaction,' though it is perfectly obvious that he was shamefully ignorant of every circumstance relating to that unfortunate affair. The American gen

tleman, who did know the nature of the transaction, with a libebrality which appears to have startled Mr. Fearon,' refused (he says)

to censure in this instance the conduct of the British. He stated that there was a great deal to be said on both sides'—and that

Lord Castlereagh and the English cabinet were great men, who acted with good intentions for the welfare of their country. We wish we could ascribe such good intentions' to Mr. Fearon, or give him the credit of ever admitting that much might be said on both sides.' We should not then find him, whenever England is concerned, venting his ignorant sneers or indulging his spiteful calumnies, at the expense of decency and truth. With Commodore Rogers he bad the assurance to talk of the disgraceful conduct of Admiral Cockburn, at Havre de Grace,' insensible to the rebuke which even that officer gave him. Nor is this the only instance where this maligner of his country's honour has ignorantly and insolently dared to traduce the character of one of the most able, enterprising, intelligent and humane officers in his Majesty's naval service.

From the crimes of the British officers Mr. Fearon seeks relief in the virtues of Mr. Cobbett. He alights near his house, and it is most painful to contemplate the appalling gloom which oppresses his spirits as he thinks of his melancholy situation. We know no parallel to such sinking of the heart, except that which Mr. Hobhouse declares he felt at hearing of the victory of the English at Waterloo. My feelings,' (Mr. Fearon says, p. 64.)

in walking along the path which led to the residence of this celebrated man, are difficult to describe. The idea of a person selfbamshed-leading an isolated life in a foreign land-a path rarely trod-fences in ruin-the gate broken--the house mouldering to decay'

O, 'tis so moving, we can read no more ! There is, however, an inaccuracy in this sombre delineation. Had Mr. Fearon condescended to learn any thing about Cobbett that was not taught in. Cobbett's Register,' he might have known that “this celebrated man’ was to otherwise self-banished than those of his party so justly described by Mr. Bristed as defrauding the jails and the gallows by a precipitate flight. The celebrated Cobbett fed from his creditors.-That he should do this is perfectly natural; the thing to be admired is--that such' a man should have creditors to flee from !-Had he staid at Liverpool another tide, he would have been brought back, and consigned to Newgate or the King's Bench for the remainder of his 14

life

life. The good Genius of England prevailed, and he escaped ; leaving behind him debts to the amount of six and thirty thousand pounds!* In Long Island lie can do no mischief:— Measter's Yorkshire too. We have mentioned this circumstance solely out of regard to our traveller's wounded feelings, which, we hope, will be somewhat relieved by finding that this celebrated man' was not 'self-banished.'

It is good to contrast the manner in which Mr. Fearon crouches before this sculking vagabond, this triple-turned' renegade, with that in which he bristles up against all that is dignified and venerable in his own country: it is still better to observe that his base servility is not without its due reward. Cobbett has published an answer to this part of Mr. Fearon's work,+ in which he denies (in a strain of coarse and vulgar obloquy) the whole of the conversation stated to have passed between him and the author, whom he belabours without mercy. I took the blade (he says) for a decent tailor, my son William for a shopkeeper's clerk, and Mrs. Churcher (the help) for a slippery young man,' (a thief, we presume,)“ or, at best, for an exciseman;' and Mrs. Churcher makes an affidavit to the same purpose, which is regularly dated, and filed.

We take no interest in the dispute between these strenuous advocates of liberty and equality, nor, we believe, do any of our readers. In justice to Mr. Fearon, however, we may add, that in a question between him and Cobbett, no man who has ever heard the name of the latter will hesitate a moment on which side the right lies. We think Mr. Fearon incapable of advancing an untruth ; whereas falsehood is known to be the essential part of his antagonist's character. Meanwhile Mr. Fearon may derive some profit from the severe castigation which he has received. He may insult the army, the navy, the administration of his country (as he constantly does) with perfect impunity: he may vilify every national institution, however high or holy, and every noble character, however eminent for worth or talent; but let him beware

* We copy a part of them from an authentic list now before us. Mr. T-n-o, (mortgagee of the Botley estates,) 16,000L. Sir F. B-, 4,0001. Mr.R-, 4,0001. Messrs. T. and F.(stationers,) 3,5001. T. B -11, 2,0001. Mr. L

-r, 1,3001. Executors of Mr. B-e, 9001. Mr. P-5, 4501. Mr. We, 5001. Messrs. H. T. and M -x, (printers,) 5001. Mr. Ś -11, (printer,) 1001. Sundry poor shopkeepers and others at Botley, 4001. We could go farther-but this perhaps may suffice to shew Mr. Fearon that ihe celebrated Mr. Cobbett had other motives than his own good pleasure for taking to his heels.

It must be very consolatory to his creditors to listen to the NEWGATE Ethics which this unprincipled miscreánt is in the weekly habit of promulgating. I hold il' (he says, in bis letter to Mr. Tipper) 'to he perfectly jusť (no doubt) that I should never, in any way whatever, give up one single farthing of my future earnings to the payment of my debts in England.' + See his Register of March 10, 1819.

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how he hazards the slightest reflection on the most vile and worthless of democrats. To talk of the profligacy of House (p. 113.) is nothing; but to hint at the bad state of Mr. Cobbett's fences, though with a tear in either eye, is a crime that no subsequent sycophancy on the part of the offender can expiate. As is Mr. Cobbett, so is every democrat, (we do not except Mr. Fearon and his host of families, as Cobbett calls the huckstering band that sent him to America.)— Obey, and I will use you kindly; if you do not, I will trample on you,' is the language of them all.

Mr. Fearon has scarcely ended weeping over the woes and wrongs of this isolated' Cacus, when a fresh source of lamentation is opened to him. The celebrated Mr. Emmett,' he says,

was pointed out to me; and I was grieved to find native Americans speak of him with great jealousy. It appears that in their eyes he has been guilty of two unpardonable crimes—two sins against the Holy Ghost—the first is in being, as they term it, a foreigner! the second, and greatest of all, in being an Irish rebel!'' We are not displeased to find that the people of New York have the good sense to hold in detestation (though at the expense of Mr. Fearon's feelings) a rebel and a traitor. It would have been no impeachment of Mr. Fearon's understanding had he left out the flippant and irreverent abuse of Scripture-But he knew to whom he was writing, and how far he might safely go. .

. It cannot have escaped the reader that Mr. Fearon has been in a state of perplexity and amazement ever since he left his home: nothing falls out as he expected it to do. But— the perils of democracy on board the Washington,'—the swarming of white and black slaves' in the land of equal rights,'—the vile jobbing' of the only cheap and enlightened government on earth,'—the

eager place-hunting of the strenuous supporters of republican purity,'-events sufficiently surprizing in themselves--all dwindled into common accidents before the portent which awaited him at Newburgh. “A lieutenant of the American army,' he says,

who is at this instant sitting opposite to me, and who has just returned from the lakes, assures me that the number of Americans who emigrate from the western states into Canada, is very considerable.'-p. 83. Do we hear aright? What !—while Mr. Fearon and his thirty-nine suffering families are preparing to quit

their oppressed country,' and seek relief for their wounded consciences in a land where there is neither king nor priest to tax and tithe them—is it possible, that the natives of this very land can be so insensible of their happiness as to turn their backs on it in crouds, and encounter the evils of a tedious journey for the sake of placing themselves not only under a monarchy, but an established church? The man who drew Priam's curtains

in

in the dead of night, assumed not, we suspect, such a look of alarm and horror as Mr. Fearon called up at this stupendous intelligence. “I asked,' he says, ' WITH SURPRIZE, what could be their inducement?' He is told that the King gives then great encouragement, with land for nothing. This, he admits, is encouragement indeed! and such,' says he, as we, old friends of his majesty, would be happy to see imitated in England.' No doubt. It is fortunate, however, for the disinterested virtue of these old friends,' (which might otherwise be put to too severe a test) that his Majesty has no lands in England to give away. With respect to the insult, it must pass—it is neither the first nor the last which Mr. Fearon offers to his afflicted and venerable sovereign.

From Newburgh our traveller returns to New York; whence, after a short stay, he departs for Boston, and we proceed to examine what materials the journey supplied him with for his · Third Report.' In his route from New York to Providence there is little worthy of remark except the reply which he received from an old man to an observation on the badness of their roads, yes,' said he, roads, I guess, are unpopular in this State: we think, I guess, that they are invasions of our liberties: we were mightily roiled (vexed) when they were first cut, and we always spoiled them in the night.' p. 97.

Of the general appearance of the country Mr. Fearon wished, he says, 'to force himself to think well;'_but,' he observes,' I must tell the truth, and therefore honestly say, that, as it respects my bird's eye view of its soil and cultivation, I am rather disappointed.' The town of Providence however bore the appearance of general prosperity, and at Pawtacket, four miles from it, he found thirteen cotton manufactories, six of which were on a large scale, and all of them carried on by companies; but the persons employed at the whole combined were not equal (he says) in number to those at one of a moderate size in Lancashire.

p.

101. At this place Mr. Fearon witnessed a scene which gave

him great delight. A woman came up to a manufacturer over whose shop-door was writtenWeaving given out here." "Judging,' he says,- from her independent (though not impudent) air, I supposed her to be a customer. But,

But, no—I want work, Boss:—whether this word, like the Bos of our Lilly, stands for.ox, bull, cow,' we cannot tell; but in general it seems to mean master:- I want work, Boss,' she said, 'for Harriet Angel.' The proprietor immediately called to his assistant, 'Where is that work for Miss Angel ? How,' exclaims Mr. Fearon,' would Sir Robert Peel feel if addressed in the true language of honest independence ? p. 102. Sir Robert Peel, whose name is thus wantonly intro

duced,

he says,

duced, may despise the insult:- a gentleman of more liberal and humane feelings does not exist. As to Mr. Fearon's question, in which there is at least as much impudence as ignorance, we can venture to answer for Sir Robert Peel that he would bear the language of honest independence far better than himself or his democratic employers.

From Providence to Boston the road improved as well as the appearance of the country—but there was nothing in either, which would be inviting to an inhabitant of our beautiful and cultivated island. During the route of 180 miles, which I have just traversed, Mr. Fearon says, “I counted only twenty-five cows, ten horses, six small farmers' waggons, three men travelling on foot, four on horseback, two families in waggons removing to the western country, one on foot pursuing the same course. There were no beggars.'-What should beggars do on an unfrequented road ?

-Yet this is the oldest, most populous and best cultivated state in North America.' Boston pleases our traveller: ' A great increase of interest,

i is' communicated by the knowledge of the fact, that it is the birth-place of the immortal Franklin, and that here broke forth the dawnings of the ever memorable revolution.' (p. 110.) His first excursion is, of course, to Bunker's Hill the spot sacred to patriotism and liberty, — and yet,' continues Mr. Fearon with evident vexation,' the young gentleman who acconpanied me from Boston, did not know the road to it! The monument raised to commemorate the victory over the English troops does not please Mr. Fearon—it is only of brick and wood, and without an inscription:' but for this shock to his feelings he is amply secompensed by a view from the heights of two far-famed monuments of American glory,' (as he terms them) the frigates Guerrière and Java, named after the two taken from the British.? The spectacle inflames his patriotism, and he bursts forth-What would a Franklin, a Patrick Henry, (who is he?) or a Washington have felt could they have foreseen these things? Perhaps for we cannot pretend to be positive to a fraction about a thousandth part of what was actually experienced by Mr. Fearon.

This day was a day of unclouded happiness to Mr. Fearon, and has doubtless been marked by him with a whiter stone. the afternoon, young Mr. Adams' came to conduct him to Quincy to dine with his grandfather—the late king of America. The dinner consisted of a pudding made of Indian corn, nolasses, and butter; of veal, bacon, neck of mutton, potatoes, cab bages, carrots, and Indian beans. All this is very well, and we should have left Mr. Fearon to digest it in peace, had he not taken occasion from it to insult the present king of England. How

great,'

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