hear it with indifference; reason pays it the utmost deference, and even the fierce and boisterous pas

sions hush for a moment their madening tumult.

For the Christian Spectator.

OBSERVATIONS OF AN AMERICAN IN ENGLAND.

(Continued from p. 471.)

-Or the many objects which attract the attention of an American traveller in this country, the old churches scattered here and there, are among the most interesting. They may be met with in all the more ancient towns and villages; and I have seen several, where there were no indications of a vil lage. Much care seems to have been taken in selecting situations for them. Those we find in towns, are on the highest grounds and form prominent objects for many miles around; those in the country, or small hamlets, are in a valley, on the slope of a hill, or on some slight eminence peculiar for its beauty. Many of these are half hid in the foliage of old trees, ivy, and long grass. In their plan, there is a great similarity. They are usually divided into a nave, side aisles, and chancel. The roof which covers the nave rises to a sufficient height over those of the aisles, to admit of a row of windows on each side, between the tops of the one and the eaves of the other. The chancel is covered by a separate roof of the same height with the aisles, and looks rather like an appendage, than a part of the church. At the west end is a tower surmounted with small turrets at the angles, and frequently a spire rises from the centre. The angles and sides of the church and tower are supported by heavy buttresses. The windows are generally large,

with pointed arches, and are divided by stone munnions, ornamented with tressel work, and set with stained glass. Buildings which bear the stamp of age always produce in me a pensive pleasure, and whenever I am in the vicinity of these ancient structures, I seldom fail to pay them a visit. In casting my eye over their dilapidated walls, broken turrets, and mouldering towers, the thought naturally occurs to me, that they were in existence long before my country was known, and that in them, the remote fathers of the American people worshipped their God and Saviour. Such an association of ideas renders the sight of this class of buildings a real luxury to me.

There are several of these old fashioned structures within a very short distance of Birmingham—one at Edge Caston, another at Handsworth, and a third at Aston. The latter I frequently visit on the Sabbath, or at the close of a pleasant week day, then I amuse myself by reading inscriptions in the yard. This church, in its exterior, differs in nothing material, from the general outline above given. It is situated on a rising ground, with a small river at the foot, and a rich meadow spreading out north and west. On the east of it and adjoining the burial ground is the parsonage, a low, modest, and humble cottage, stuccoed and whitewashed with square windows, and a small garden in front, filled with flowers and evergreens. The last time I attended service here, I lingered in the yard to ascertain the places from which the people came; for few houses appeared in

sight, and yet I have observed that the church is generally well attended. When the bells began to chime, I could see people gathering from all quarters; some through the public roads, others through by-paths, between hedge-rows, over stiles, and fields of corn and grass. The church was soon pretty well filled, and I began to think of finding a place for myself. The beadle, a friend to wanderers like me, immediately attended to my wants. This important functionary of the church may be known by his blue coat, with red collar and cuffs, large gilt buttons, and blue staff of office, tipped with gold; or if he be out of doors, by his broad brimmed hat, turned up behind, and bound with wide gold lace, and a band of the same. I need not describe the service to you, nor have I any criticism to venture upon the sermon which was delivered in this instance. Only I would remark in passing, while the subject reminds me of it, that these performances are, in general, excelled by those of American clergymen. Among the dissenters there is a goodly share of zeal, but very many of the ministers of the Church of England, so far as I have observed, preach nothing but a cold inefficient morality. NewEngland Christians would feel that there was little piety in minister, or people; and yet all the great and noble of the land attend the establishment and it is not among them considered respectaple to attend any other church.

August 30, 1825. As I have generally made it a rule to see what could be seen in a foreign land, I went yesterday in company with two Americans to witness a horse-race at Walsal, nine miles from town. We hired a coach, and one for our own use, well knowing that at such a time we could not depend upon procuring seats in the public coaches. The ride it1826. No. 10.

65

self was extremely pleasant, for the day was one of England's best, the roads smooth, and the fields clothed in all the richness of autumn. I cannot say so much for the character of the amusement. Walsal is a small irregular town principally engaged in manufacturing of saddlery wares. It has no claims to wealth or style; but on this occasion, the influx of people of fortune from the neighbouring places renders it lively and fashionable. Soon after we reached the race-course, a party of ladies with whom we were acquainted, came up; and though the meeting was unexpected on their part, I cannot say that it was on ours. We joined them in the grand stand. This is a building with piazzas erected for the convenience of the gentry, or more properly for those who are willing to pay four shillings for an elevated place and protection from the weather.

The beauty, and

fashion, and elegance of attire, which met my eye were certainly not less attractive than the accomdations of our situation or the gay and dissipated scene which was presented on the race-ground: though I must confess, the idea that the ladies had come to witness a horse-race, started a little my

American delicacy or prejudices! Much as I admire British females, and much as they are to be admired for their many lovely qualities, I greatly doubt whether the amusements of the turf are calculated to soften their manners, improve their minds, or in any way render them more amiable in the domestic circle. On this occasion they laid their wagers as freely as the other sex, and seemed to enter into the sports with high satisfaction. I could not help noticing, with what eagerness their eye followed the movements of the horses, and how a smile of triumph, or a frown of displeasure affected their features, as their favourite horse won or lost ground. In our country, as you

well know, it is considered disreputable to females to be seen at a horse-race, and even the men who frequent them are generally not the most esteemed in society. Here, all ranks, classes and sexes go to the race-course, without scruple or sense of impropriety. Even clergymen lay aside the sacerdotal character, and appear on the turf. Would that some Addison might arise again, who, by his gentle and polished, but irresistible humour, would rescue at least his admirable country women, from so unfeminine an amusement.

In the course of the day, a clergyman whom I have before introduced to you, joined our party with his wife. He is a man of intelligence, and more conversant with American literature than any Englishmen I have met with. He put many questions to me, and among others he enquired if Americans had any thing of this kindwaving his hand over the course. I replied that we had in some of the States, but that in others, it was an amusement not permitted. Upon requiring a reason for the latter, I told him that the early settlers of our country were rigid in their principles, and thought it an amusement inconsistent with the character and profession of a Christian. He remarked that it was the nature of all sects to be austere at first, and as natural for them to relax in time. He said that people would have amusements, and he considered this as harmless as any. Harmless undoubtedly it is, compared with bull-baiting, prize or cock-fighting, which are so common here; yet it creates a spirit of gambling, besides many other attendant and consequential evils.

September. The country, at this season of the year, possesses nearly all the verdure and beauty of spring. The grass and ever-greens are fresher than in mid-summer,

and the foliage of the trees has not yet fallen, or even much faded. The change from the bright green of summer to the russet of autum is much more gradual here, than it is with us. Our severe frosts tinge the leaves with a thousand hues, and cause them to fall in a few days; but in England the decay is slow, and seems to be natural or the effect of age, rather than that of cold or frost.

I have several times asked myself, while looking around on English scenery in what respects it dif fers from that of New England, and why it is so much more beautiful. The productions of the earth are nearly the same. We have every variety of surface and an abundance of rivulets, but there is a perceptibly wide difference after all, even if we take into view, the best cultivated parts of New-England. The hedges which line the roads and divide the ground into small lots, are a feature of English scenery, which more perhaps than any other, adds to its loveliness. The numerous well trimmed forest trees, which stand single, in rows, or in groups, constitute also a peculiar charm. The surface of the ground, moreover seems to have been all worked over, and to have received a finish from the resources of art-no part of a field is left uncultivated-the rugged places are smoothed, and cavities are filled up. Another circumstance is the extreme neatness of many of the farmers' cottages. They are often humble tenements, rising only one story, covered with straw, and floored with brick; yet humble as they are, they have so snug and quiet an aspect, that a prince might covet them. Many of them have low bow-windows filled with flowerpots, and in front are the woodbine, the laurel, and the holly. In laying out their grounds, they follow the example of the higher classes, and though they conduct their concerns on a small scale,

yet every thing is in conformity to good taste. Indeed this principle runs through all English horticulture, rural economy, household arrangements, and the decorations of their dwellings. Good taste, not in its fanciful, but in its substantial forms, is the province of Englishmen. Their improvements of nature are natural, and only heighten its effect.

At this season, the cottages have numerous hay and corn ricks standing by the side of them, barns not being much used. These ricks are so handsomely contrived, that they are quite an ornament in themselves; and their shape is such as to secure the corn and hay from the weather as effectually, as if they were lodged in a barn. Indeed, I apprehend that in this way, the corn is not so liable to contract dampness or the hay to sour, as it would be if housed. The hay when brought to market is cut into squares, and bound with hay ropes. They weigh about one hundred. Thirty or forty of these bundles are put into a waggon, and carried to town. The hay dealers buy the load, and then retail it out by the bundle. I saw to day many farmers engaged in plowing. They use horses alone, and from three to five of them strung in a line, are tackled to one plough. The horses are of the large breed, with immensely shaggy fet-locks. They have prodigious strength, but are clumsy, and fit for nothing except drawing. At this time the roads are lined with labourers at work, breaking up stones, repairing the ways, trimming the foot-paths, and gathering the loose dirt into heaps. Groups of ragged Irishmen may now be seen in all parts of the country. They come over in great numbers during harvest time, and return in September and October. They bring with them their wives and

little ones, and those of the latter that are too young to walk, are slung Indian like on their backs. During an excursion about this time, I had an opportunity of seeing the gathering of the haw thorn berry, and of learning the manner in which the tree is raised. The

berry or fruit when taken from the tree is thrown into a pit dug in the ground, a quantity of earth being mixed with it at the same time. The pit is then covered, and the berries remain till the following spring, twelve month, when they are taken out with the earth, and sowed. The stones sprout and grow the first season to the height of six or eight inches. They can be transplanted the following year.

accuse me of pedantry when I tell you that my only object in visiting Stratford, upon Avon, was to tread the ground that Shakspeare trod, to view the scenes that he viewed, to bend over his tomb, and to examine those relics of the bard, which have been preserved from the ravages of time. If in this devotion I am weak, then kings and princes, statesmen and poets have been weak before me, for men of high and low degree, lettered and unlettered, have all paid tribute to the memory of the immortal dramatist. In looking up an inn after we had arrived at the place, we passed a number, till at length we saw the portrait of Shakspeare on a sign board, and as we were on a pilgrimage to his tomb we at once took up our quarters at this inn. Here every object reminded us of the great poet. I took up a volume-it was his plays. I looked at a picture-it was a sketch of the house in which he was born. Near to it was an engraving representing his statue in the chancel of the church. A snuff box bore his image, so also did the sign at the door, under