Chapter I: WOULD not assume a critical nicety in matters which belong to more

learned heads, but I must say, that the vulgar _pronunciation_ of many words, not only among the cockney tribe, but, according to Mr. Cooper,[6] reaching even to the bishops, was continually grating on my ear, in London. I inquired for Holborn, which seemed to be a place unknown, until I learned that the _English_ of it was _Hobun_. Lombard, you must call _Lumbud_; Warwick, _Warrick_; Thames, _Tems_; Pall Mall, _Pell-Mell_, and so on. We have even the high authority of Lord Brougham, or rather Lord _Broom_, for calling Birmingham _Brummagem_. I really think that we yankee rebels are far more loyal to the king's English, than his majesty's liege subjects.

There are many words which the English use in quite a different sense from ourselves, and many _articles_ which they call by a different, and often more appropriate, name. Every body knows that by a _clever_ man, they mean a man of genius and talent; and a _very_ clever man would be with them a person of extraordinary celebrity; whereas we only apply the word to a good-natured 'hale fellow well met.' The coachman would feel his dignity insulted, if you called him _driver_; and you should also be careful to say _luggage_ instead of _baggage_, or there may be a whisper of scandal. _Nice_ is peculiarly an English word. Several of our own coining have been endorsed in England, such as _talented_, _dutiable_, etc.

The peasantry, and others of the lowest classes in England, are a robust and hardy, but certainly an ignorant and boorish race. Their highest enjoyment would seem to be a horse-race, a mug of ale, or 'pot o' 'alf-and-'alf;' and they drink these brain-muddling beverages in prodigious quantities. With their ale and roast beef, it is no wonder that the English are not of the lean kind!

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IT is to be hoped that ignorance respecting the American people, and groundless prejudice against them, is daily becoming less prevalent in England; but a visitor from the United States is yet often as much astonished as amused, at the notions of the people there about us. A traveller is always sure to fall in with conversible companions; and it is gratifying to find on the way many agreeable and intelligent persons, who, with but partial advances on your part, will enter into your plans, and without impertinent curiosity, will readily impart information, or render assistance. At Warwick, a few days after I first landed at Liverpool, I met with a couple of gentlemen of this stamp; and, in the course of conversation, I mentioned that I was an American. They both seemed surprised, and remarked that I spoke English _very_ well; 'they should never have taken me for an American;' and gravely inquired if 'the English language was usually spoken in the United States.' This was evidently a 'man of substance,' and he had just been complaining of the wretched state of public education in England! I seldom confessed that I was any other than 'a native born and bred,' but whenever I did plead guilty of being an American, I always observed an expression of wonder, if not of absolute incredulity. It will scarcely be believed, but it is not more strange than true, that many in this land of learning expect to see in an 'American' a person of different color, habits, and language, from themselves. They seem to apply the word American only to the aborigines; and the descendants of those who have come from England, Scotland, or other European countries, they consider as still belonging to his 'father-land;' and the mass of people in England have the most vague and crude notions about matters and things in this distant republic. Ten to one you may be asked what state Virginia is in, or if there are 'many Indians in New-York,' meaning the _city_. One good lady had an idea that the Indians were black, and that they were the same as our present slaves! When the Americans, in Paris, joined the English residents in congratulating the king on his escape from assassination, one of the English committee proposed, that the republicans should appear in their 'own court dress!' One would think, that with the present facility of intercourse between the two countries, they might be better informed; but it is certainly the fact, that in the present 1836, you will hear blunders, such as these specimens, from five persons out of eight, in England, who have any thing to say concerning the United States.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] MR. GEORGE JONES, who kindly took measures, when in England, (where he was born,) to prolong the still very respectable literary reputation of SHAKSPEARE, by delivering a most inflated salmagundi at Stratford.

[5] In the crypt, I was shown the elephant's tusk, on which the first deed of the land was inscribed.

[6] Mr. C. was asked by a bishop if he knew _Dr. Hubbart_, in New York, and was quite at fault, till he accidentally discovered that the prelate referred to the late Bishop _Hobart_.

THE WAVES.

'I COULD never tire of gazing upon waves. Whether watching
them by the shore of an inland lake, as they roll up, in hues
of emerald, to the reedy marge, or listening to their swelling
monotone, as they break upon the long sea-beach, or curl into
white foam in mid-ocean, they are alike beautiful and inspiring
to me.'

LETTER FROM A FRIEND.

I.

THERE'S music in the waves by day,
When lightsomely they dance along,
And in their wild and sunny play,
Awake the raptured soul to song;
They tell of childhood's blessed dreams,
And hopes that lit young fancy's eye,
When life's care-chequer'd journey seems
Bright as the sunbeam in the sky.

II.

A spell is on the waves by night,
Communing with the spirit's ear;
It breathes of hopes which once were bright,
Enshrouded now in doubt and fear;
And, blent with their low murm'ring swell,
Come whisperings unto the heart,
Of HIM, whose voice doth ever dwell
Mid scenes from busy life apart.

III.

But most at twilight's hush I love
The melting cadence of the wave,
Bringing sweet greetings from above,
Of friends long sundered by the grave;
It bids me love, and live again
O'er fair existence' vernal morn,
Ere sorrow dim'd one hour with pain--
Ere from the heart one tie was torn.

IV.

The waves!--they tell of boyhood's dreams,
And joys which after years know not;
Of verdant groves and babbling streams,
And many a well-remember'd spot;
And with their gentle music come
Fond longings to the weary breast,
For Heaven's own unembitter'd home--
Of pure delight and ceaseless rest.

_Hartford_, 1837. ZELOTES.

OLLAPODIANA.

NUMBER TWENTY.

WHETHER you be gentle or simple, reader--whether poetical or prose-enamored--you have been free from any inflictions or productions of mine--whichsoever you may please to call them--any time these several months. If the omission has been grievous, you have had a monition that your life is not all sunshine, many things being oft anticipated, which come not to hand of him that desireth them; if pleasing, you are now reminded, that pleasures of a sublunary character are too brief to have long uniform continuance, since 'diuturnity of delight is a dream, and folly of expectation.' So much for prefatory philosophy. PLATO, when he paced along the olive-walks, beneath the groves of Academe, or listened to the prattle of shining Grecian streams of yore, never knew what it was to meditate the exordium of a magazine paper. As yet, when he flourished, 'editors and _agents_ of periodicals' never took prominent parts in university processions, with toll-gate keepers, sea-serpents, and American eagles, as was jocosely related of the late conflagratory assemblage in the edifice of Brown, on Providence Plantations.

By the way, I laughed extremely at the piece to which I allude, which was full of delightsome and most facetious things, right aptly conceited. It was an imaginary procession at Brown University, on occasion of burning all the literary productions of the students for the last five or six years. Had the sacrificial mandate extended to the honorary members of her societies, then would OLLAPOD have been obliged to be present with his offering to the insatiate elements; and with 'survivors of the Boston massacre, in coaches,' or 'superannuated toll-keepers of the Pawtucket Turnpike,' followed in the train of the great marine visitor at Nahant, or that supposed bird, met by the dreamer (immortalized by the muse of SANDS) who sailed a-nigh it in his vision, what time his spectral charger waved to the breeze of midnight

----'the long, long tail, that glorified
That glorious animal's hinder side!'

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I'LL warrant me a dozen of Burgundy, with all olives and appurtenances thereunto properly belonging, that this same humorous description gave offence to those who support the dignity of a time-honored _alma-mater_. But they must have laughed in their sleeves at the witty conception of it. Yet it is an old saying, 'A blow with a word strikes deeper than one with a sword.' 'Many men,' saith the profound old Democritus, Junior, 'are as much gauled with a jest, a pasquil, satyre, apologe, epigram, or the like, as with any misfortune whatever. Princes and potentates, that are otherwise happy, and have all at command, secure and free, are grievously vexed with these pasquilling satyrs: they fear a railing _Aretine_, more than an enemy in the field; which made most princes of his time, as some relate, allow him a liberal pension, that he should not tax them in his satyrs. The gods had their Momus, Homer his Zoïlus, Achilles his Thersites, Philip his Demades: the Cæsars themselves in Rome were commonly taunted. There was never wanting a Petronius, a Lucian, in those times; nor will be a Rabelais, an Euphormio, a Boccalinus, in ours. Adrian the Sixth, pope, was so highly offended and grievously vexed with pasquils at Rome, he gave command that satyre should be demolished and burned, the ashes flung into the river Tiber, and had done it forthwith, had not Ludovicus, a facete companion, dissuaded him to the contrary, by telling him that pasquils would turn to frogs in the bottom of the river, and croak worse and louder than before.' A right pithy description is this, of the effect of wit and words.

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