4th. Sunday here presents a most pleasing contemplation; the people before united in trade and political government, are now seen shedding out quietly and in utmost harmony, repairing to the places of worship of their several persuasions: the English protestant establishment seems to be well attended; the service with a few alterations, and the (perhaps) well-judged omission of our frequent repetitions, was very impressively read to an attentive congregation. The places for worship are generally strongly and, though plainly, handsomely constructed; yet not perhaps, strictly according with the best rules of architecture.
We cannot but observe a very striking flatness or insipidity of character pervading the population, which is not perhaps to be attributed to bad times, but to various other causes: I am apt to believe that a large portion bear expatriation with a sort of melancholy feeling—America is not yet their home,—they talk little of it, but much of Europe.
The United States is a theatre on which are met all nations of Europe, each at present attached to the customs they have left there, and agreeing [28] only in the support of religious and political liberty: time alone can wear down their heterogeneous habits into a national character, which many other causes, besides those now enumerated, may at present unite to oppose: the effect is an evident want of energy, of heart and soul in every thing animating to other nations. I am just returned from witnessing the celebration of the anniversary of their Liberty,—such a festival might well be expected to call forth every spark of enthusiasm; but, even then, not an eye either of spectators or actors glistened with joy or animation, the latter seemed walking to a funeral; the others contemplating the melancholy ceremony! Nothing could dispel the illusion but the gay clothes of the female spectators, to which their countenances in general bore a strong contrast.
Notwithstanding these unfavourable impressions however, one could not but at intervals feel gratified;—it was the assembly of a people to commemorate the epoch of their liberty, and we wished to discover an elevation of character deserving of the blessing, and to hail them as brothers.
July 6th. Took leave of New York, of which city, perhaps I may have said more than necessary, so much having been published before. By steam boat and land carriage we were conveyed [29] to Bordentown, a beautiful elevated situation, commanding most extensive views, where Joseph Buonaparte at present resides.[8] He lives quietly and hospitably, and, by accommodating himself to the people, exists amongst them undisturbed:—on his arrival he received a mark of attention as uncommon as it was unexpected; a mob at Philadelphia collected to see and welcome him; a compliment he mistook, for not aware of their intention, and supposing it might be to seize and deliver him up, he was with difficulty at length prevailed upon to shew himself and receive their friendly greetings. He is fond of shooting and finds plenty of sport: in the widely spread low grounds covered with brush wood, the Wood-cock and Snipe abound; and the Partridge or Quail is plentiful in the high country. At a little distance from Bordentown, on the edge of a precipitous cliff, and surrounded by wood, forming a pleasing retreat, stands his house.[9]
7th. Much pleased with the scenery during the passage down the Delaware; on its beautiful Pensilvania side many of the houses appeared to be placed in delightful situations: as we floated [30] along the Sturgeon was seen frequently darting upwards at the insects on the surface; he is a fish but little valued here, either because his flavour is not so good as it is with us, or perhaps a royal fish suits not republican palates. The spot where Penn first landed in search of a site for his intended city was pointed out as we passed; and soon after came in view Philadelphia, presenting by no means so favourable a coup d'œil as New York had done.
PHILADELPHIA
Of this city I shall say little at present, but hasten the western journey. Having both read and been told of streets with clear water running along the channels, and of trees planted on each side, affording a pleasing shade during the heat of summer, I confess a great disappointment at finding but very few trees, and no water but green stinking puddles! Indeed, for the credit of New York, I must say that their Board of Health is more active, or the people themselves are more cleanly; for, there no stinks assaulted our noses equal to those we met with here: walking in these streets under the influence of a hot burning sun I have [31] met with the putrifying carcass of a dead dog; from the stench of which I have ran off, while the natives were passing it without notice! We need not then be at a loss to account for their fevers.
Away from the wharfs the streets are in general good, well paved, and laid with fine broad causeways of brick: the handsome flights of marble steps to the doors would look still better if well polished; the marble is white with blue veins, of a good kind, and comes by water about sixty miles, at a cheap rate.