“Clear your mind of cant.”—Johnson.
“Montesinos.—America is in more danger from religious fanaticism. The government there not thinking it necessary to provide religious instruction for the people in any of the new states, the prevalence of superstition, and that, perhaps, in some wild and terrible shape, may be looked for as one likely consequence of this great and portentous omission. An Old Man of the Mountain might find dupes and followers as readily as the All-friend Jemima; and the next Aaron Burr who seeks to carve a kingdom for himself out of the overgrown territories of the Union, may discern that fanaticism is the most effective weapon with which ambition can arm itself; that the way for both is prepared by that immorality which the want of religion naturally and necessarily induces, and that camp-meetings may be very well directed to forward the designs of military prophets. Were there another Mohammed to arise, there is no part of the world where he would find more scope or fairer opportunity than in that part of the Anglo-American Union into which the older states continually discharge the restless part of their population, leaving laws and Gospel to overtake it if they can, for in the march of modern colonization both are left behind.”
This remarkable prophecy appeared from the pen of Robert Southey, the Poet-Laureate, in March, 1829 (“Sir Thomas More; or, Colloquies on the Progress and Prospects of Society,” vol. i., Part II., “The Reformation—Dissenters—Methodists.”)
Dedication.
TO
RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES.
I HAVE PREFIXED YOUR NAME, DEAR MILNES, TO “THE CITY OF THE SAINTS:”
THE NAME OF A LINGUIST, TRAVELER, POET, AND, ABOVE ALL, A MAN
OF INTELLIGENT INSIGHT INTO THE THOUGHTS AND
FEELINGS OF HIS BROTHER MEN.
PREFACE.
Unaccustomed, of late years at least, to deal with tales of twice-told travel, I can not but feel, especially when, as in the present case, so much detail has been expended upon the trivialities of a Diary, the want of that freshness and originality which would have helped the reader over a little lengthiness. My best excuse is the following extract from the lexicographer’s “Journey to the Western Islands,” made in company with Mr. Boswell during the year of grace 1773, and upheld even at that late hour as somewhat a feat in the locomotive line.
“These diminutive observations seem to take away something from the dignity of writing, and therefore are never communicated but with hesitation, and a little fear of abasement and contempt. But it must be remembered that life consists not of a series of illustrious actions or elegant enjoyments; the greater part of our time passes in compliance with necessities, in the performance of daily duties, in the removal of small inconveniences, in the procurement of petty pleasures, and we are well or ill at ease as the main stream of life glides on smoothly, or is ruffled by small obstacles and frequent interruptions.”