Part 13 (1/2)
”But this subject of self-improvement is inexhaustible. If traced to its results in action, it is, in fact, 'The Whole Duty of Man.' What of detail it involves and implies, I know that you will, each and all, think out for yourselves. Beautifully has it been said: 'Is not the difference between spiritual and material things just this,--that in the one case we must watch details, in the other, keep alive the high resolve, and the details will take care of themselves? Keep the sacred central fire burning, and throughout the system, in each of its acts, will be warmth and glow enough.'[A]
[Footnote A: The Dial, Vol. I. p. 188, October, 1840, ”Musings of a Recluse.”]
”For myself, if I be asked what my purpose is in relation to you, I would briefly reply, It is that I may help, be it ever so feebly, to train up a race of young men, who shall escape vice by rising above it; who shall love truth because it is truth, not because it brings them wealth or honor; who shall regard life as a solemn thing, involving too weighty responsibilities to be wasted in idle or frivolous pursuits; who shall recognize in their daily labors, not merely a tribute to the ”hard necessity of daily bread,” but a field for the development of their better nature by the discharge of duty; who shall judge in all things for themselves, bowing the knee to no sectarian or party watchwords of any kind; and who, while they think for themselves, shall feel for others, and regard their talents, their attainments, their opportunities, their possessions, as blessings held in trust for the good of their fellow-men.”
I found that The Dial had been read with earnest interest by some of the best minds in these especially practical regions, that it had been welcomed as a representative of some sincere and honorable life in America, and thought the fittest to be quoted under this motto:--
”What are n.o.ble deeds but n.o.ble thoughts realized?”
Among other signs of the times we bought Bradshaw's Railway Guide, and, opening it, found extracts from the writings of our countrymen, Elihu Burritt and Charles Sumner, on the subject of Peace, occupying a leading place in the ”Collect,” for the month, of this little hand-book, more likely, in an era like ours, to influence the conduct of the day than would an illuminated breviary. Now that peace is secured for the present between our two countries, the spirit is not forgotten that quelled the storm. Greeted on every side with expressions of feeling about the blessings of peace, the madness and wickedness of war, that would be deemed romantic in our darker land, I have answered to the speakers, ”But you are mightily pleased, and illuminate for your victories in China and Ireland, do you not?” and they, unprovoked by the taunt, would mildly reply, ”_We_ do not, but it is too true that a large part of the nation fail to bring home the true nature and bearing of those events, and apply principle to conduct with as much justice as they do in the case of a nation nearer to them by kindred and position. But we are sure that feeling is growing purer on the subject day by day, and that there will soon be a large majority against war on any occasion or for any object.”
I heard a most interesting letter read from a tradesman in one of the country towns, whose daughters are self-elected instructors of the people in the way of cutting out from books and pamphlets fragments on the great subjects of the day, which they send about in packages, or paste on walls and doors. He said that one such pa.s.sage, pasted on a door, he had seen read with eager interest by hundreds to whom such thoughts were, probably, quite new, and with some of whom it could scarcely fail to be as a little seed of a large harvest. Another good omen I found in written tracts by Joseph Barker, a working-man of the town of Wortley, published through his own printing-press.
How great, how imperious the need of such men, of such deeds, we felt more than ever, while compelled to turn a deaf ear to the squalid and shameless beggars of Liverpool, or talking by night in the streets of Manchester to the girls from the Mills, who were strolling bareheaded, with coa.r.s.e, rude, and reckless air, through the streets, or seeing through the windows of the gin-palaces the women seated drinking, too dull to carouse. The homes of England! their sweetness is melting into fable; only the new Spirit in its holiest power can restore to those homes their boasted security of ”each man's castle,” for Woman, the warder, is driven into the street, and has let fall the keys in her sad plight. Yet darkest hour of night is nearest dawn, and there seems reason to believe that
”There's a good time coming.”
Blest be those who aid, who doubt not that
”Smallest helps, if rightly given, Make the impulse stronger; 'Twill be strong enough one day.”
Other things we saw in Liverpool,--the Royal Inst.i.tute, with the statue of Roscoe by Chantrey, and in its collection from the works of the early Italian artists, and otherwise, bearing traces of that liberality and culture by which the man, happy enough to possess them, and at the same time engaged with his fellow-citizens in practical life, can do so much more to enlighten and form them, than prince or n.o.ble possibly can with far larger pecuniary means. We saw the statue of Huskisson in the Cemetery. It is fine as a portrait statue, but as a work of art wants firmness and grandeur. I say it is fine as a portrait statue, though we were told it is not like the original; but it is a good conception of an individuality which might exist, if it does not yet. It is by Gibson, who received his early education in Liverpool. I saw there, too, the body of an infant borne to the grave by women; for it is a beautiful custom, here, that those who have fulfilled all other tender offices to the little being should hold to it the same relation to the very last.
From Liverpool we went to Chester, one of the oldest cities in England, a Roman station once, and abode of the ”Twentieth Legion,”
”the Victorious.” Tiles bearing this inscription, heads of Jupiter, and other marks of their occupation, have, not long ago, been detected beneath the sod. The town also bears the marks of Welsh invasion and domestic struggles. The shape of a cross in which it is laid out, its walls and towers, its four arched gateways, its ramparts and ruined, towers, mantled with ivy, its old houses with Biblical inscriptions, its cathedral,--in which tall trees have grown up amid the arches, a fresh garden-plot, with flowers, bright green and red, taken place of the altar, and a crowd of revelling swallows supplanted the sallow choirs of a former priesthood,--present a _tout-ensemble_ highly romantic in itself, and charming, indeed, to Transatlantic eyes. Yet not to all eyes would it have had charms, for one American traveller, our companion on the voyage, gravely a.s.sured us that we should find the ”castles and that sort of thing all humbug,” and that, if we wished to enjoy them, it would ”be best to sit at home and read some _handsome_ work on the subject.”
At the hotel in Liverpool and that in Manchester I had found no bath, and asking for one at Chester, the chambermaid said, with earnest good-will, that ”they had none, but she thought she could get me a note from her master to the Infirmary (!!) if I would go there.”
Luckily I did not generalize quite as rapidly as travellers in America usually do, and put in the note-book,--”_Mem._: None but the sick ever bathe in England”; for in the next establishment we tried, I found the plentiful provision for a clean and healthy day, which I had read would be met _everywhere_ in this country.
All else I must defer to my next, as the mail is soon to close.
LETTER II.
CHESTER.--ITS MUSEUM.--TRAVELLING COMPANIONS.--A BENGALESE.-- WESTMORELAND.--AMBLESIDE.--COBDEN AND BRIGHT.--A SCOTCH LADY.--WORDSWORTH.--HIS FLOWERS.--MISS MARTINEAU.
Ambleside. Westmoreland, 27th August, 1846.
I forgot to mention, in writing of Chester, an object which gave me pleasure. I mentioned, that the wall which enclosed the old town was two miles in circ.u.mference; far beyond this stretches the modern part of Chester, and the old gateways now overarch the middle of long streets. This wall is now a walk for the inhabitants, commanding a wide prospect, and three persons could walk abreast on its smooth flags. We pa.s.sed one of its old picturesque towers, from whose top Charles the First, poor, weak, unhappy king, looked down and saw his troops defeated by the Parliamentary army on the adjacent plain. A little farther on, one of these picturesque towers is turned to the use of a Museum, whose stock, though scanty, I examined with singular pleasure, for it had been made up by truly filial contributions from, all who had derived benefit from Chester, from the Marquis of Westminster--whose magnificent abode, Eton Hall, lies not far off--down to the merchant's clerk, who had furnished it in his leisure hours with a geological chart, the soldier and sailor, who sent back sh.e.l.ls, insects, and petrifactions from their distant wanderings, and a boy of thirteen, who had made, in wood, a model of its cathedral, and even furnished it with a bell to ring out the evening chimes. Many women had been busy in filling these magazines for the instruction and the pleasure of their fellow-townsmen. Lady ----, the wife of the captain of the garrison, grateful for the gratuitous admission of the soldiers once a month,--a privilege of which the keeper of the Museum (a woman also, who took an intelligent pleasure in her task) a.s.sured me that they were eager to avail themselves,--had given a fine collection of b.u.t.terflies, and a s.h.i.+p. An untiring diligence had been shown in adding whatever might stimulate or gratify imperfectly educated minds. I like to see women perceive that there are other ways of doing good besides making clothes for the poor or teaching Sunday-school; these are well, if well directed, but there are many other ways, some as sure and surer, and which benefit the giver no less than the receiver.
I was waked from sleep at the Chester Inn by a loud dispute between the chambermaid and an unhappy elderly gentleman, who insisted that he had engaged the room in which I was, had returned to sleep in it, and consequently must do so. To her a.s.surances that the lady was long since in possession, he was deaf; but the lock, fortunately for me, proved a stronger defence. With all a chambermaid's morality, the maiden boasted to me, ”He said he had engaged 44, and would not believe me when I a.s.sured him it was 46; indeed, how could he? I did not believe myself.” To my a.s.surance that, if I had known the room, was his, I should not have wished for it, but preferred taking a worse, I found her a polite but incredulous listener.
Pa.s.sing from Liverpool to Lancaster by railroad, that convenient but most unprofitable and stupid way of travelling, we there took the ca.n.a.l-boat to Kendal, and pa.s.sed pleasantly through a country of that soft, that refined and cultivated loveliness, which, however much we have heard of it, finds the American eye--accustomed to so much wildness, so much rudeness, such a corrosive action of man upon nature--wholly unprepared. I feel all the time as if in a sweet dream, and dread to be presently awakened by some rude jar or glare; but none comes, and here in Westmoreland--but wait a moment, before we speak of that.
In the ca.n.a.l-boat we found two well-bred English gentlemen, and two well-informed German gentlemen, with whom we had some agreeable talk.
With one of the former was a beautiful youth, about eighteen, whom I supposed, at the first glance, to be a type of that pure East-Indian race whose beauty I had never seen represented before except in pictures; and he made a picture, from which I could scarcely take my eyes a moment, and from it could as ill endure to part. He was dressed in a broadcloth robe richly embroidered, leaving his throat and the upper part of his neck bare, except that he wore a heavy gold chain.
A rich shawl was thrown gracefully around him; the sleeves of his robe were loose, with white sleeves below. He wore a black satin cap. The whole effect of this dress was very fine yet simple, setting off to the utmost advantage the distinguished beauty of his features, in which there was a mingling of national pride, voluptuous sweetness in that unconscious state of reverie when it affects us as it does in the flower, and intelligence in its newly awakened purity. As he turned his head, his profile was like one I used to have of Love asleep, while Psyche leans over him with the lamp; but his front face, with the full, summery look of the eye, was unlike that. He was a Bengalese, living in England for his education, as several others are at present. He spoke English well, and conversed on several subjects, literary and political, with grace, fluency, and delicacy of thought.