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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 bud 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 Hippant 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


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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 them great encouragement, with land for nothing. This, he admits, is ercouragement 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 equaf (he says) in number to those at one of a moderate size in Lancashire. p. 10t.

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 written Weaving given out here. “Judging,' he says,' from her independent (though not impudent) air, I supposed her to be a customer.' 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


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duced, may despise the insult:-a gentleman of more liberal and

humane feelings does not exist. As to Mr. Fearon's question, in á which there is at least as much impudence as ignorance, we can I venture to answer for Sir Robert Peel that he would bear the À 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 unfre· quented road? Yet this is the oldest, most populous and best cultivated state in North America.' Boston pleases our traveller: ' A great increase of interest,"

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.' à (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 accom1 panied me from Boston, did not know the road to it! The mo

nument 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. In the afternoon, young Mr. Adams' came to conduct him to Quint cy to dine with his grandfather--the late king of America. The dinner consisted of a pudding made of Indian corn, molasses, and butter; of veal, bacon, neck of mutton, potatoes, cabbages, carrots, and Indian beans. All this is very well, and we should have left Mr. Fearon to digest it in peace, bad he not taken occasion from it to insult the present king of England. How


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great,' he exclaims," is the contrast between this individual--a man of knowledge and information, without pomp, parade, or vicious and expensive establishments, as compared with the costly trappings, the depraved characters and the profligate expenditure of' (Carleton) House' and (Windsor).

We meddle not with the table of Mr. Adams—who it suits his taste, or his appetite, have two puddings—we wish not to inquire in what capacity, or with what property, his father first crossed the Atlantic; still less are we solicitous to learn the extent of his present fortune—but we know (and feel it our duty to make Mr. Fearon know) that the sovereign, at whose

establishment' he is scandalized, the descendant of a long line of princes, is the lawful inheritor of the vast possessions of those who for more than a thousand years have swayed the sceptre of this country. Is Mr. Fearon so hopelessly stupid as to imagine that the early monarchs of this country were without property —that the great and powerful races of Kent and York and Lancaster came beggars to the contest for empire ! or that they flung away their boundless possessions as soon as they had mounted the throne! No family on earth can boast of a longer established right to its paternal estates, than the king of Great Britain to the possessions which devolved on him at the moment of his accession: and had not his present majesty resigned his hereditary property to the nation for a stipulated sum, he would at this moment have been the richest sovereign in Europe. The resignation was frank; and we should have felt that it was wise, had it not furnished a pretext for the selfish and the malicious to turn upon the generous monarch, and reproach him with the effects of his own sacrifice. What was compromise is now considered as bounty. Investigations of no very delicate nature are made by other inquisitors than Mr. Fearon into every article of expense,

, and the basest of the rabble are daily invited to calculate how much is wrested from their earnings to support an arrangement by which the nation is widely profiting.

Leaving this, however, we have still to ask Mr. Fearon on what authority he presumes to talk of the depraved character of as compared with that of Mr. Adams? That a life of exemplary worth and goodness should, in these monster-breeding times, be no protection from obloquy, is matter of little surprize; and we shall not therefore affect any at the language which we have just heard: but we will still assert-without intending to offer the least disrespect to Mr. Adams—that the sovereign thus rudely dragged forward to set off the superiority of his character, might— that might!--compete with him, not only in knowledge and informa


tion, but in every virtue that confers grace and dignity on the human character.

It may possibly have escaped Mr. Fearon's recollection, in the midst of his eagerness to calumniate his sovereign, that he has described this very Mr. Adams, who is so frugal, so moderate, so philosophical in all his views, as a person (to use his own words y

whose fourteen years naturalization law, whose frequent public prosecutions, whose plans for a standing army, and above allwhose aim to obtain the state and style of royalty, no friend of liberty can advocate'!-p. 363. To live without expensive establishments—with due respect to the natural sagacity of Mr. Fearon—is a merit of no very extraordinary kind in a private gentleman, and needed not therefore to be invidiously contrasted with the situation of one who has public duties to perform, and who is invested with the concentrated state and dignity of a mighty nation for purposes essential to its stability and glory.

Mr. Fearon finds the state of society in Boston preferable to that of New York, ' though the leaven of aristocracy seems to be very prevalent.' By degrees, however, he cools in his admiration. In New York (he says)' English Tory writers are neither unknown nor unpopular;' but here the people are decided aristocrats. Distinctions exist to an extent rather ludicrous under a free and popular government. There are the first class, second class, third class, and the old families. Titles, too, are profusely distributed. These things are grievously against the poor Bostonians; but what appears to have injured them more than all the rest, in the good opinion of Mr. Fearon, is the discovery that they evince some respect for religion. A man (he says) who values his good name in Boston hardly dare be seen out of church at the appointed hours.'—This is so serious a charge, that we trust Mr. Fearon took special care to be well informed before he ventured to bring it forward: nay (continues he) this would be considered as a heinous crime, by men who would consider the same individual cheating his creditors as of small imporťthese remarks, he adds, are applicable to all the religious bodies of this place.' (p. 115.) Few appear to have any regard for the general extension of liberty to the whole human family,' (as in the slave states); for these reasons, and because the Bostonians approach nearest to Englishmen, he quits them with an avowal that his feelings are those of disappointment.'

Our readers must have frequently heard of the rude inquisitiveness of the American people. An amusing instance of it (and, to say the truth, we have rarely seen so amusing a book as this of Mr. Fearon) occurred on his entrance into Boston.

proceeding along the street with his baggage, a gentleman ran out


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