of Nova Scotia, nor the Colonial nor the Episcopal, nor
the Established, but the Church of England.) Is it then
that England, whose language I speak, whose subject I
am, the mistress of the world, the country of Kings and
Queens, and nobles and prelates, and sages and heroes?

I have read of it, so have I read of old Rome; but the
sight of Rome, Caesar and the senate would not astonish
me more than that of London, the Queen and the Parliament.
Both are yet ideal; the imagination has sketched them,
but when were its sketches ever true to nature? I have
a veneration for both, but, gentle reader, excuse the
confessions of an old man, for I have a soft spot in the
heart yet, _I love Old England_. I love its institutions,
its literature, its people. I love its law, because,
while it protects property, it ensures liberty. I love
its church, not only because I believe it is the true
church, but because though armed with power, it is tolerant
in practice. I love its constitution, because it combines
the stability of a monarchy, with the most valuable
peculiarities of a republic, and without violating nature
by attempting to make men equal, wisely follow its
dictates, by securing freedom to all.

I like the people, though not all in the same degree.
They are not what they were. Dissent, reform and agitation
have altered their character. It is necessary to
distinguish. A _real_ Englishman is generous, loyal and
brave, manly in his conduct and gentlemanly in his feeling.
When I meet such a man as this, I cannot but respect him;