“This, gentlemen,” exclaimed the master of the house, “is the manner in which the doctor preaches against slavery! He shows the whole value of it to the South, and then calls upon the South to renounce it, in order to put itself on a level with the North. An advocate of slavery could not have selected a better argument for pressing the continuance of the institution on the Southern planters, and yet he expects them to become convinced of its wickedness. He has, indeed, a most peculiar way of exhorting sinners; he shows them all the nice things they may get by offending against the law, and then says, ‘All these you shall not have by following me.’”
“And what does all his argument come to,” observed one of the visitors, “but this?—Our moneyed men in the North revere nothing more than money; but, because each of us is determined to make money, we are divided into as many different castes as there are ways and means of making money. We, Northerners, have no rallying point; because every one makes money for himself, and not for his neighbour. This, however, is not enough to give us political strength; and for this reason the Southerners, who by their slaves are placed above the necessity of making money, rule over us by superior talent and education. This is a state of things not to be endured; and, since we cannot become clever ourselves, we must at least prevent others from becoming so. With us, politics come after money; in the South, they take the lead in all human pursuits. If, therefore, we want to get the upper hand with those Southerners, we must abolish slavery, or, in other words, force the planters to make money for themselves; then we shall see who can make money faster, the South or the North. In the North all work for money; and, as politics with us are no very lucrative pursuit, our superior (rich?) men will have nothing to do with them. They prefer the prospect of money to that of political distinction, and the actual possession of it to everything else in the world.”
“Capital!” cried the old gentleman; “that’s the point Dr. Channing is going to make. We would like to become like the Southerners, if we could do so without pecuniary sacrifice; but, as this is entirely out of the question, we must reduce those who are above us to our own level. In this manner we shall promote equality and justice, and, in addition, obtain credit with the world for philanthropy and true Christian charity.”
“You may say what you please against the doctor,” said the eldest girl, visibly displeased by the turn the conversation had taken. “I shall always believe him a charming preacher.”
“I am myself very fond of his sermons,” added the old lady; “only I prefer reading them at home to hearing them at church.”
“And I,” observed an elderly gentleman, “do not like his explanation of the Scriptures by their general scope, and the disbelief of their being written by Divine inspiration; though I heard his colleague assert, that, rather than disbelieve THE WHOLE, he would take every part of them FOR GOSPEL.”
And now I must bid good-b’ye to Boston and its remarkable inhabitants, who, I am afraid, have already occupied my attention more than is agreeable to my readers, and, perhaps, to the Bostonians themselves. “Common sense” is certainly the staple commodity of New England; but I cannot say I have always found it in the metropolis. The Bostonians are too much flattered by their own public men and the press, not to be occasionally benefited by the remarks of “a foreigner.” They all call themselves an enthusiastic people,—comparing themselves to the Athenians; but, during my whole stay in the United States, I have not known one of them moved by the tender passion, which, strange to say, never attacks an educated Bostonian mal à propos.
The gentlemen of that city never do anything out of season. Whenever one of them falls in love, you may be sure he is quite ready to get married, and that the object of his affection is a legitimate one. He does not throw away his sentiment on some unattainable object, for he husbands his feelings as he does his property. No man remembers better than he the words of Bacon: “When it (love) entereth men’s minds, it troubleth men’s business;” and, the latter constituting by far the most important object of his life, it is comparatively a rare case to see him look out for a wife “before he sees his way clear ahead.” In this manner he avoids a great deal of romance and vice; but all this prudence and calculation, this impossibility of being betrayed into some rash inconsiderate act, lend to his character a degree of hardness and severity, which, though it may admirably qualify him for public life, renders him, nevertheless, the most unamiable creature in society.
I have heard it said that the New-Englanders in general have a quicker perception, and are shrewder, than Europeans or the rest of the Americans. The Bostonians pride themselves on being “sharper” than the Jews, and on preventing them from making a living in their city; but I cannot say that this agrees with my experience. As regards quickness of perception, they are certainly inferior to the Italians, and in part even to the French; but they make up for it by their greater calmness, which renders them less liable to error. They have not, as a certain English writer believes, two heads; their clearness of judgment arises only from the absence of emotions. Where men have but one aim, and that a definite and finite one, they are seldom deterred from it; so that the vulgar, who merely judge by the success, often ascribe to them great mental powers: but there is a kind of genius which, from its very elevation, and its necessary incommensurability with the common mind, is doomed to unceasing strife; and with this the New-Englanders have in general but little sympathy.