COOPER'S ENGLAND.

'buss volumes are unquestionably the most searching and thoughtful, not to say philosophical, of any which have been pub-

lishtd by an American on England. Mr. COOPER is much less flip) ant than the " Young American," and far deeper and more comprehensive. His experience and acquirements are much

g, eater than WILLIE'S; his judgment less likely to be imposed

upon by the mere externals of things ; and his taste is severer, with nothing of the toadeater about him. In sentiment and

elegance he is not equal to DEWEY ; but he is a closer observer, and has a more practical mind, than that delightful divine. His time and opportunities were greater than any or all of these writers, whether we regard the length of his sojourn, or the so- ciety in which he mixed, and the men of mark—as • ROGERS, SCOTT, MACKINTOSH, Earl GREY—With whom he associated.

Everybody, who has any knowledge of Mr. COOPER'S produe- tions,knows that he is no particular friend of England. His Anglo- phobia, however, is less prominent in these volumes than it has shown itself on some other occasions; it is also much less °film- sively exhibited. He is rather a critic than a caviller,—sharp and severe enough, and prone to "make faults alien he cannot Lind them," but still under the guidence of reason; except indeed upon one point, and that is the alleged hostility of England and Englishmen, one and all, towards America. Upon this point nothing is too gross for him to credit, nothing too unlikely for him to conjecture. He conceives the conquest of the United States to have long been a favourite project of the Court of St. James's, and only abandoned within these fifteen or twenty years. He holds that the Government, and the Press, of all shades of opinion, are in a conspiracy to vilify and injure America ; which the latter has it in its power to do (such is its influence!) by im- pressing the credulous Yankees with unduly-exalted notions of our resources and prowess, and by depreciating the best of their citizens; any man, unless a party politician, being irretrievably damaged by a few paragraphs in an English periodical,—which, if true, is the weakest point we have yet heard of in the Ame- rican character. Mr. COOPER too has been impressed with the Continental belief of the dark and Machiavellian character of our foreign policy ; whereas we suspect our diplomats are amongst the most undesigning of mortals. Nor personally is he very easily satisfied. If he is considered as an American, that is a sore ground of offence—a proof at once of the deeply-seated con- tempt or hatred of the English. If, on the other hand, lie is treated, either from forgetfulness or design, as an Englishman of the same social standing as himself, he ruffles up at the wa t of courtesy shown to a stranger from the States: it is evidently a grievance with him, that he has been obliged on several occasions to yield the pas to a lord. These, and things like these, will not, he says, be remedied, till Congress shall have a fleet of thirty sail of the line and send it a-cruising in these parts ! In the interim, let any travelling American, troubled about such matters, console himself' with the notion of some old Lord of the Isles- " Wherever Macdonald sits, that is the head of the table."

Almost all these points, however, are rather foolishly than offensively put, and detract little from the value of the hook, whilst they add much to its character. Upon most other subjects Mr. COOPER may be read with advantage both in England and Ame- rica. Wherever his own dignity is not concerned, or a lurking conspiracy against his country not suspected, (about his country- men he is liberal enough,) Mr. COOPER appears to us to do justice to the manners and character of England ; to make fair allowance for the difference in our economical and social condition, as com- pared with that of America, and of the consequences which neces- sarily Now from it ; and to institute very useful comparisons be- tween the two countries. If we could be sure that some of his political speculations were written at the time of his visit, (1828,) we should have a high opinion of his political sagacity ; for lie would seem to have thoroughly penetrated the nature of the old Boroughtnongery system, and to have foreseen the necessity of a reform or a revolution. His comments on the strength of the aristocracy, arising from their hold on the Government and its good things, their extensive ramifications and connexions with the various established institutions of the country, and, more than all, the superstitious prestige in their favour amongst every class.

but the lowest, may yet be considered with advantage. Hitt speculations as to the nature and duration of our Colonial empire, and the shorn and reduced state to which England may be brought in some quarter of a century, are curious, and not unspecious ; though the events that have occurred since they were written rather tend to invalidate than to confirm their justness.

The English itinerary of Mr. COOPER was not considerable ; merely reaching from Dover to London, where he remained the whole of his stay, with the exception of a few excursions in the vicinity. The nature of his subjects has been indicated already ; but it may be said in addition, that he describes and criticizes (ior comment is part and parcel of him) the external appearances of the country, and the style and effect of its edifices. He sketches, sometimes generally, sometimes particularly, the characteristics of the parties he was invited to, and the public men he met, but rarely or never trenching on private circumstances. With all this he mingles many anecdotes, many remarks, and perhaps too many disquisitions. The form of the work is epistolary; but it often wants the ease, the freedom, and the lightness of familiar letters. Mr. COOPER Seems writing with the idea of the public, if not with a view to publication. At the same time, what is I st in fitness by this style, is gained in solidity and matter. If the reader forgets the title of the section, and thinks it, what it really is, a descriptive essay, there is nothing to complain of. W hen Mr. COOPER was leaving Paris, WILLIAM SPENCER,— whose poetry we may say, in passing, was something more than " clever,"—offered him letters of introduction; which he declined. The honourable poet then gave him a list of persons upon whom he wished Mr. COOPER to call, and afterwards wrote letters to them; which procured him the greater part of his more distinguished acquaintance, and his own celebrity accomplished the rest. The earliest call, however, was from GODWIN; whom the American arbiter elegantiuruni thus describes.

The first visit I bad, out of our own narrow circle of Americans, occurred about a forthight after we were established in St. James's Place. I was writ- ing at the time, and did not attend particularly when the name was announced ; but, supposit.A it was some tradesman, I ordered the person to be admitted. A quiet little old man appeared in the sown, and we stood staring near a minute attach other; he, as I afterwards understood, to ascertain if he could discover any likeness between are and my supposed father, and I wondering who the diminutive little personage might be. I question if the stature of my visiter

much exceeded five fret, though his frame was solid and heavy. Ile was partly

bald, and the hair that remained was perfectly white. Ile had a tine head, a benevolent countenance, and a fresh colour. After regarding me a moment, and perceiving my doubt, he said simply—" I am Ale. Godwin. I knew your father when be lived in England ; anti, hearing that you were in London, I have come, without ceremony, to see you." After expressing my gratification at having made his acquaintance on any terms, T gave him to understand there was sonic mistake, as my father had never been out of America. This led to an explanation; when he took his seat and we began to chat. He was curious to hear something of American literature, which I have since discovered is vet y little known in England. Ile wished to learn, in parricidal., if we had any poets: " I have seen something of Dwight's, and Humphreys, and Bal low's " I I. said, " but I cannot say that either pleased me much." I laughed, and told him we could do better than that now. Ile begged me to tecite something—a single verse', if possible. Ile could not have applied to a worse person ; for my memory barely suffices to remember facts, of which I trust it is sufficiently tenacious, but I never could make any thing of a quotation. As lie betrayed a childish eagerness to hear even half a dozen lines, I attempted something of Bryant's, and a little of " Alnerick Castle," which pretty much exhausted my whole stock. I WAS amused at the simplicity with which he betrayed the little reverence he felt for our national intellect; fur it was quite apparent he thought " nothing good could come out of Nazareth." Mr. Godwin sat with me an hour ; and the whole time the conversation was about America, her prospects, her literature, and her polities. It was not pos- sible to believe that be entertained a favourable opinion of the country, not- withstanding the liheral tendency of his writings ; for prejudice, blended with a few shrewd and judicious remaiks, peeped out of all his notions. Ile had almost a rustic. simplicity of manner, that, I think, must be as much am dotted to the humble sphere of life in which he had lived as to character ; for the portion of his deportment which was not awkward seemed to be the result of mind, while the remainder might easily enough be traced to want of familiarity with life. At least, so both struck um ; and I can only give you toy impres- sions. As Mr. Godwin has lung enjoyed a great reputation, and the English of rack are in the habit of courting turn of letters, (though certainly in a way peculiar to themselves,) I can only suppose that the tendency of his writings, which is not favourable to aristocracy, has prevented Lim from enjoying the usual advantages of men of celebrity. It would savour of empiricism to pretend to dive into the depths of cha- racter in an interview of an hour ; but there was something about the man- ner of Mr. Godwin that strongly impressed me with the sincerity of his philo- sophy, and of his real desire to benefit his race. I felt several tittles during his visit as if I wished to pat the old man's bald head, and tell hint " he was a good fellow." Indeed, I cannot recall any one who, on so short art acquaintance, so strongly impressed me with a sense of his philanthropy; and this, too, purely from externals, fur his professions and language were totally free from cant. This opinion forced itself on me almost in spite of my wishes; for Mr. Godwin so clearly viewed us with any thing but favourable eyes, that I could nut con- sider hint a friend. Ile regarded us as a speculating rather than as a specula- tive people ; and such is nut the character that a philosopher most esteems.

CROWDS, CARRIAGES, AND COACH-HORSES.

When we first arrived lure from Paris, I was disposed to deny that the streets of London were as crowded as it is usual to pretend. My opinion was formed too soon. What was then true is so no longer. London, or rather Westminster, in the height of the season, and Westminster out of the season, so far as the movement in the streets is concerned, are not the saute town. When 1 was here in 18'26, I saw no essential difference between Regent Street and Broadway, as regards the crowd ; but now, that we have passed the Easter holydays, every one appears to be at his post ; sod, so far from having ever seen anywhere else the crowds of people, the display of rich equipages, the incessant and grand movement that adorn and bewilder the streets of London, I had never even pictured such a sight in my imagination. They who have not been here at this season of the year, know nothing of the place. 'There is a part of the day, between one and mix, when it is actually a matter of risk for a pedes- trian to cross the streets. I live near Piccadilly, which is not wider than Broadway, if quite as wide, and I have °manna to cross it frequently. YO1

know I am no laggard, and am not deficient in activity ; and yet I find it con- venient to make my first run toward.; a stand of coaches in the middle of the street, protected by which I take a fresh departure for the other side. Regent Street is still worse; and there is a place at Charing Cross that would be nearly impracticable, but for a statue of Charles the Second, which makes a capital lee for one on foot. As for Broadway and its pretended throng, I have been in the current of coaches in what is called the City here for an hour at a time, when the whole distance was made through a jam as close as any you have ever seen in that street for the space of a hundred yards. Broadway will coin- pare with the more crowded streets of London, much as Chestnut Street will compare with Broadway. I frequently stop and look about me in wonder, distrusting my eyes, at the exhibition of wealth and luxury that M concentrated in such narrow limits. Our horses have none of the grand movement that the cattle are trained to in Europe generally ; and these of London seem, as they dash furiously along. as if they were trampling the earth under their feet. They are taught a high carriage; and as they ate usually animals of great size as well as fleetness, their approach is sometimes terrific. By fleetness, however, I do not mean that you, as a Queen's county man, and who come of a sporting stock, would con- sider them as doing a thing " in time," but merely the fleetness of a coach- horse. As to foot, I have little doubt that we can match England any day. I think we could show as good a stock of roadsters, both for draught and the saddle ; but we appear to want the breed of the English carriage-horse; or if we possess it at all, it is crossed, dwindled, and inferior. The English coachmen do not rein in the beads of their cattle towards each other, as is practised with us, but each animal carries himself perfectly straight and in a line parallel to the pole. I found this unpleasant to the eye at first, but it is certainly more rational than the other mode, and by the aid of reason and use I am fast losing my dislike. The horses travel easier and wider in this way than in any other, and when one gets accustomed to it I am far from cer- tain the action does not appear nobler. The superiority of the English carriages is equal to that of their horses.

The Young American, it will be remembered, entertained rather a gross opinion of English beauty. Here is Mr. CoorEa's more scientific decision.

The English female face is essentially the same as the Ammican, though na-

tional peculiarities are to be observed in both. It is a delicate office to decide on the comparative personal charms of the sex in different communities ; but as you and I are both beyond the hopes and fears of the young, on this point, a paseing word is no more than a tribute due to the incontestible claims of both. Were it not for the females of Rome, I should say that the women of England and America might bear away the palm front all other competitors, on the score of personal charms, so far as we are familiarly acquainted with the rest of the world. There is a softness, an innocence, a feminine sweetness, an expression of the womanly virtues, in the Anglo- Saxon female countenance, that is met with only as an exception in the rest of Christendom. As between the English and American divisions of this common race, I think one may trace a few gene- ral points of difference. The English female has the advantage in the bust, shoulders, and throat. She has usually more colour, and, on the whole, more delicacy of complexion. The American is superior in general delicacy of out- line, as well as in complexion ; she has a better person, bust and shoulders ex- cepted, and smaller hands and feet. Those who pretend to know much on this subject and to make critical comparisons, say that it is usual to see roost truly beautiful women in Englund and most pretty women in America. Real beauty is an exception everywhere; and it must be remembered how much easier it is to find exceptions in a crowded population, than in one scattered over a surface as large as a third of Europe. Of one thing I am certain, disagreeable features are less frequently met among the native females of America than among any other people I have visited. I must hesitate as to the points of beauty and prettiness, for, judging merely by what one would sec in London and New York, I think there is truth in the distinction. The English women appear better in high dress, the Americans in demi-toilettes. One other distinction, and I shall quit the subject. I have remarked that faces here, which appear well in the distance, often fail in some necessary finesse or delicacy when closer ; and I should say, as a rule, that the American female, certainly the American girl, will bear the test of examination better than her European rival. I do not mean by this, however, under a fierce sun, that direful enemy of soft eyes,—for there is scarcely such a thing as a bright sun, or what we should call one, known in England.

LORD GREY.

Some favourable accidents have thrown me lately, more than I had a right to expect in the circumstances under which I have visited England, into the society of the leading Whigs. At dinner at Lord Grey's, I have met Lord Holland, Lord Lauderdale, Lord John Russell, Lord Duncannon, Lord Althorp, Lord Durham, and many men of lose note, though all of the same way of thinking. Were it permitted to relate what passes when one is ad- mitted within the doors of a private house, I could amuse you, beyond a ques- tion, by repeating the conversation and remarks of men of whom it is matter of interest to learn any thing authentic ; but neither of us has been educated in a gossiping school. Still, without violating propriety, I may give you some notions of my distinguished host. Lord Grey, notwithstanding his years, for he is no longer young, retains much of the lightness and grace of a young man, in his form. He is tall, well. proportioned, and I should think had once been sufficiently athletic ; and there as an expression of suavity and kindness in his face that report hail not pre- pared me to see. He struck um as being as little of an actor in society as any public man I have ever seen. Simple and well-bred such a man could hardly escape being, but in Lord Grey's simplicity there is a nature one does not always meet. lie is not exactly as playful as Lord Holland, who seems t i be all bonhommie, but he sits and smiles at the sallies of those around hint as if he thoroughly enjoyed them. I thought him the man of the most character in his set ; though he betrayed it quietly, naturally, and, as it were, as if he could not help it. The tone of his mind and of his deportment was masculine. I find that the English look upon this statesman with a little social awe ; but I have now met him several trines, and have dined twice with him at his own table, and so far from seeing, or rather jading, any grounds for such a notion, I have been in the company of no distinguished man in Europe, so much my senior, with whom I have telt myself more at ease, or who has appeared to me better to understand the rights of all in a drawing-room. I can safely say that his house is one of the very few in England in which something has not oc- curred to make me feel that I was not only a foreigner, but an American. Lord Grey expressed no surprise that I spoke English : he spared me explanations of a hundred things that are quite as well understood with us as they arc here, manifested liberality of sentiment without parade, and on all occasions acted and expressed himself precisely as if he never thought at all of national dif- ferences. His company was unithrmly good, and as it was generally composed of nieu of rank, perhaps I fared all the better for the circumstance. Castes have a tendency to depress all but the privileged, and the losers are a little apt to betray the " beggar on horseback " disposition, when they catch one whom they can patronize or play upon. There was not the least of this about the manner of Lord Grey.

ENGLISH GENTLEMEN.

The English gentlemen have the merits of courage, manliness, intelligence,

and manners. Their morals are overrated, except as to the vices which are connected with ntaanness. Perhaps there is less of the latter than is commonly found in courier]as where the upper classes are more directly under the in- fluence of entate; but even of this there is much, very much, more than it is common to believe in America. As between the English and ourselves honestly think we have the advantage of them on this point. They are our superiors in manners and in intelligence ; they are our superiors in all that manliness which is dependent on opinion; but certainly I have known things practised, and that pretty openly, nn connexion with interest, by melt of con- dition here, which mild not well be done by a gentleman with us without losing caste. In the Northern States we have very few families whose suns would now hesitate about embarking in commerce, at need ; and this of itself is a great outlet (as well as inlet) for the vices of a pecuniary nature. The prejudices connected with this one subject are the cause of half the memnesses of Europe. The man who would hesitate about suffering his name to appear in a commercial firm, would pass his life in a commission of ineanuesses, nut to say crimes, that should put hint to the ban of society. This feeling is daily becoming weaker in England, but it is still strong. Alen of family scarcely ever engage openly in commerce, though they often do things covertly, which, besides possessing the taint of trade, have not the redeeming merit of even its equivocal ethics. To theta the Army, Navy, and Church and Govern- ment patronage, are almost the only resources. The latter facts have given foe to two of the most odious of the practical abuses of the present system. A fear occasionally appear at the bar, but more as criminals than as advocates. The- profession is admitted within the pale of society, as it opens the way to the Peerage and to Parliament ; but it requires too much labour and talents to be in favour. A physician in England ranks haitherrii,oparioifItiatsiiiiemiaiilglyh,etrhsaent.rdivisiet anywhere else; but he is scarcely considered

younger sons of Peers enter all the professions but that of medicine; but I never heard of one who chose to be a doctor. A curate may become Arch.

bishop of Canterbury, but a physician can merely hope to reach a baronetcy, a dignity little coveted. Like our " Honourables " and " Colonels," it is not in vogue with the higher classes. I cannot better illustrate the state of feeling here, in relation to these minor titles, than by our own in relation to the appel- lations; named, which are of much account in certain sets ; but which it is thought bad taste to bandy among gentlemen.

Our extracts hitherto have been taken from the lighter portions of the work, bearing chiefly upon persons and manners ; but we will close with one of a graver and sadder kind, and which exhibits both sense and justice.

THE POOR IN ENGLAND.

The question is often asked, in what do the poor of England suffer more than the poor of any other country ? I am not sufficiently versed in the details con- nected with the subject to speak with authority, but I can give you the inn. pressious received as a looker-on.

In compariug the misery of Eneland with that of the Continent of Europe, one must remember the great difference of climate. A man suffers less at Naples, without a coat or a fire, and with three grani for his daily pittance, than is undergone in England beneath woollen, with ten yrani to furnish the "ways and means." These facts make a great moral ditli2rence in favour of England, when we come to consider the merits of systems, though the physical consequences may be against her. The poor of this country appear to me to be over-worked. They have little or no time for relaxation; and, instead of exhibiting that frank manly cheerful. nese and heartiness of feeling that have been so much extolled, they appear sullen, discontented, and distrustful. There is far less confidence and sympa- thy between classes than I had expected to see; for, although a good under- standing may exist between the great landholder and the affluent yeoman who pays him rent aud farms the soil, the social chain appears to be broken between those below the latter and their superiors. I do not mean that the rich are obdurate to the sufferings of the pour, but that the artificial condition of the country has choked the ordinary channels of sympathy, and that the latter, when known at all, are known only as the poor. They are the objects of duties, rather than fellow-creatures living constantly within the influence of all the charities, including those of cominimion and rights, as well as those which are exhibited in donations.

There is one large claw of beings in England whose condition I should think less enviable than that of Asiatic slaves. I allude to the female servants of all-work in the families of those who keep lodging-houses, tradesmen, and other small housekeepers. These poor creatures have an air of dogged, sullen misery, that I have never seen equalled in any other class of human beings not even excepting the beggars in the streets. In our lodgings at Southampton there was one of these girls ; and her hand was never idle, her foot seemed to know no rest, while her manner was that of wearied humility. We were then fresh from home, and the unmitigated toil of her existence struck us all most painfully. When we spoke to her kindly, she seemed startled, and looked dis- trustful and frightened. A less inviting subject for sympathy could scarcely be imagined,—for she was large, coarse, robust, and event masculine ; but even these iron qualities were taxed beyond endurance.