Chapter 10

"How pleasant and how sad the turning tide
Of human life, when side by side
The child and youth begin to glide
Along the vale of years:
The pure twin-being for a little space,
With lightsome heart, and yet a graver face.
Too young for woe, though not for tears."
ALLSTON.

With what interest and deference most Americans of any education
regarded England, her history, laws and institutions, in 1799! There
were a few exceptions--warm political partisans, and here and there an
individual whose feelings had become embittered by some particular
incident of the revolution--but surprisingly few, when it is
recollected that the country was only fifteen years from the peace. I
question if there ever existed another instance of as strong
provincial admiration for the capital, as independent America
manifested for the mother country, in spite of a thousand just
grievances, down to the period of the war of 1812. I was no exception
to the rule, nor was Talcott. Neither of us had ever seen England
before we made the Lizard on this voyage, except through our minds'
eyes; and these had presented quantities of beauties and excellencies
that certainly vanished on a nearer approach. By this I merely mean
that we had painted in too high colours, as is apt to be the case when
the imagination holds the pencil; not that there was any unusual
absence of things worthy to be commended. On the contrary, even at
this late, hour, I consider England as a model for a thousand
advantages, even to our own inappreciable selves. Nevertheless, much
delusion was blended with our admiration.

English history was virtually American history; and everything on the
land, as we made our way towards town, which the pilot could point
out, was a source of amusement and delight. We had to tide it up to
London, and had plenty of leisure to see all there was to be seen. The
Thames is neither a handsome, nor a very magnificent river; but it was
amazing to witness the number of vessels that then ascended or
descended it. There was scarce a sort of craft known to Christendom, a
few of the Mediterranean excepted, that was not to be seen there; and
as for the colliers, we drifted through a forest of them that seemed
large enough to keep the town a twelvemonth in fire-wood, by simply
burning their spars. The manner in which the pilot handled our brig,
too, among the thousand ships that lay in tiers on each side of the
narrow passage we had to thread, was perfectly surprising to me;
resembling the management of a coachman in a crowded thoroughfare,
more than the ordinary working of a ship. I can safely say I learned
more in the Thames, in the way of keeping a vessel in command, and in
doing what I pleased with her, than in