and Talk," an interesting record of much journeying by that well-known
London clergyman, the Rev. H.R. Haweis: "Among the numerous kind
attentions I was favoured with and somewhat embarrassed by was the
assiduous hospitality of another singular lady, _also since dead_. I
allude to Mrs. Barnard, the wife of the venerable principal of
Columbia College, a well-known and admirably appointed educational
institution in New York. This good lady was bent upon our staying at
the college, and hunted us from house to house until we took up our
abode with her, and, I confess, I found her rather amusing at first,
and I am sure she meant most kindly. But there was an inconceivable
fidgetiness about her, and an incapacity to let people alone, or even
listen to anything they said in answer to her questions, which poured
as from a quick-firing gun, that became at last intolerable." Comment
on this passage would be entirely superfluous; but I cannot help
drawing attention to the supreme touch of gracefulness added by the
three words I have italicised.

There is one English critic of American life whose opinion cannot be
treated cavalierly--least of all by those who feel, as I do, how
inestimable is our debt to him as a leader in the paths of sweetness
and light. But even in the presence of Matthew Arnold I desire to
preserve the attitude of "_nullius addictus jurare in verba
magistri_," and I cannot but believe that his estimate of America,
while including much that is subtle, clear-sighted, and tonic, is in
certain respects inadequate and misleading. He unfortunately committed
the mistake of writing on the United States before visiting the
country, and had made up his mind in advance that it was almost
exclusively peopled by, and entirely run in the interests of, the
British dissenting Philistine with a difference.