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L.Llard Git 1-22-27

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THE following Remarks were, in substance, prepared, not long after the appearance of the work to which they refer, for the inspection of a gentleman in this country, to whose kindness the writer had been largely indebted. In the midst, indeed, of mutual and very sincere congratulation on the cordiality which seemed so happily to prevail between the two nations, Captain Hall came hastily to inform us, that there existed, on the contrary, a spirit of "mutual animosity”—and while he pledged a whole life's observation as to its general prevalence in Great Britain, referred to his late trip to the United States as having satisfied him that a corresponding temper was to be found in that country. The intelligence was no less painful than unexpected, particularly when followed up by a stern declaration that any attempt to soften these "unkindly feelings" was not "either practicable or desirable." It was natural, under such circumstances, that his book should be closely looked into, for the purpose of ascertaining the temper and qualifications with which he had entered on his task and been led to conclusions believed to be as erroneous as they are lamentable. The following pages disclose the result of that examination. They are now published on the suggestion-perhaps a rash one-that they exhibit greater anxiety and care than have been elsewhere displayed in reference to what must be deemed the primary object of solicitude, with all those who have at heart the continuance of peace and of a

mutual good understanding. The writer has had the aid of the judgment of others in believing that, although they exhibit no temper of adulation towards this country, there will be found nothing which should, in fairness, defeat his purpose of calmly appealing to reason, and of endeavouring to dissipate what he deems an unhappy delusion.

The Quarterly Review has boasted that its strictures, odious as they may be, are yet read and reprinted on the other side of the Atlantic. Undoubtedly no harm, but the contrary, is likely to result from what may sometimes serve to check that inordinate self-complacency and consequent arrogance, which it is, unfortunately, in every nation, the interest of domestic writers to flatter rather than to rebuke. Even when told, as in the Number for April last, that "the memory of Washington will probably be nearly extinct before the present century expires,” (p. 358); the people of the United States, while they are quite incredulous, yet listen with patience to all that can be urged in derogation of their institutions, and of their great men, in the hope that, amidst a great deal of angry assertion, there may, perhaps, be found some useful, though unpalatable, truth. The writer has no wish to try any such severe experiment on the good temper of the British Public. He will make no invidious predictions as to the personages most likely to be remembered at the close of this century, because he can see no advantage likely to result from such puerility, and because it really looks a little like taking an unfair advantage-since a writer, now of mature age, cannot expect, in the course of nature, to be alive at the period fixed, to answer to the Public for misleading them on such a point. Nor, if jealousy must be roused where so many reasons exist for kindness and affection, is he at all ambitious to be recognized, hereafter, as one of those who struggled for the infamous distinction of being the Iago of the tragedy. Leaving, then, posterity quite untrammelled to its election, the writer is content, despite of the supposed national foible of anticipation, to meddle only with topics in reference to which falsehood may at once be detected and exposed.

It must be obvious that nothing can well be more difficult than to give a conclusive answer to this allegation of hostility of feeling. To disclaim it is of little avail, for this is said to be the

way with all prejudiced people. Were it, indeed, possible to subject to a rigid cross-examination, in the presence of the two nations, all those who have taken on themselves the responsibility of spreading abroad these exasperating representations, it might be no difficult task to succeed, as in private life, in transferring to the vulgar, mischief-making go-between, the odium which he has attempted to excite in kindred families. Though it is, unfortunately, out of our power thus to pursue and expose to shame all who have fabricated or diffused the malignant tale, yet Captain Hall has, in this respect-whatever may be otherwise his merits-unquestionably rendered a valuable service to both countries, since he has, unconsciously, furnished as striking an example as could be desired, of the perfect facility with which all such statements may be resolved, into the folly, the ignorance, the prejudices, the rude and insolent misconduct of the amiable personages, who take such pains to convince two nations that they cordially detest each other. He undoubtedly stands amongst the foremost of those who insist upon it, that Great Britain and America do and shall cherish towards each other "unkindly feelings"; and were it not for the melancholy conclusion at which he arrives it would be impossible not to smile at the completeness of the self-delusion under which he shows himself to have laboured from beginning to end. He reminds one of the somnambule of the stage holding up a light to his own countenance, and enabling those who watch his movements to see how completely his eyes are closed.

But a preliminary question may be asked--Cui Bono? Why this morbid anxiety about what is thought or said of you in England? Why not wrap yourselves up in the indifference and disdain which the tourist has recommended, and laugh to scorn, or return with interest, those "unkindly feelings " of which he speaks? "Do we worry and fret ourselves about what is said of us in America? certainly not." "I must say, that I have always thought this sort of soreness on their part a little unreasonable, and that our friends over the water gave themselves needless mortification about a matter which it would be far more dignified to disregard altogether." Without stopping to remark that the temper here recommended to America, is precisely that which she has been

heretofore accused of cherishing-and without caring in reply to such coarse suggestions, to refer to those sympathies from which the descendauts of Britons cannot readily disengage themselvesthe writer may suggest that it is scarcely possible for this mutual hatred to remain long in the system in a dormant state. There

are many-very many-points of discussion which will instantly spring up between the two countries in the event of a war in Europe, and a spark struck out from such a collision will never be wanting to kindle whatever it may light on of an inflammable

nature.

To indulge in the language of menace, on such a subject, to Great Britain, would defeat the writer's purpose, because she would instantly meet it with defiance. Yet it may not be unworthy even of a brave, and very powerful, people to reflect, that they seem to be approaching, gradually but inevitably, towards a great struggle, which is likely to task all their powers, and to render it at least unwise to multiply, unnecessarily, the number of their enemies. Montesquieu, in his profoundestw ork, has said of the Turkish Empire, "Si quelque Prince que ce fut mettait cet Empire en peril en poursuivant ses conquêtes les trois puissances commercantes de l'Europe connaissent trop leurs affaires pour m'en pas prendre la défense sur le champ." True, the course of policy thus marked out has not been exactly followed. The Turk has been prostrated, and, when lifted from the ground by his late fce, will probably rise, according to the usual course of human passions, with a new and ardent desire for revenge on those whose magnificent phrases of friendship, as he alleges, led him to expect that timely aid which, in his hour of peril, he looked round for in vain. Unless all history and the workings of the human heart be belied, this must be the present feeling of the humiliated infidel; and, at the next turn of affairs, he may be found the willing and exasperated auxiliary of a power, which, at least, he cannot pretend to charge with having violated that Good Faith which it is his own great boast to have always most scrupulously observed. England must feel that the steelyards by which she has heretofore sought to adjust the balance of Europe, are at this moment rendered useless by the weight of the Autocrat; and she is sufficiently disposed to cast her sword, like Brennus,

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