Canada and the Canadians, Vol. 1Bonnycastle, Richard Henry, Sir
History
Canada and the Canadians, Vol. 1
Bonnycastle, Richard Henry, Sir
Canada -- Description and travel; Ontario -- Description and travel
Look at the United States, see how each successive president is bowed
down before the Moloch altar; he must worship the democratic Baal, if he
desires to be elected, or re-elected. It is not the intellect, or the
wealth of the Union that rules. Already they seriously canvass in the
Empire State perfect equality in worldly substance, and the division of
the lands into small portions, sufficient to afford the means of
respectable existence to every citizen. It is, perhaps, fortunate that
very few of the office-holders have much substance to spare under these
circumstances; but, if the President, Vice-President, and the
Secretaries of State, are to live upon an acre or two of land for the
rest of their lives, Spartan broth will be indeed a rich diet to theirs.
When the sympathizers invaded Canada, in 1838-1839, the lands of the
Canadians were thus parcelled out amongst them, as the reward of their
extremely patriotic services, but in slices of one hundred, instead of
one or two, acres.
But, notwithstanding all this ultra-democracy, there is at present a
sufficient counterbalance in the sense of the people, to prevent any
very serious consequences; and the Irish, from having had their religion
trampled upon, and themselves despised, would be very likely to run
counter to native feeling.
If any country in the whole civilized world exhibits the inequality of
classes more forcibly than another, it is the country which has lately
annexed Texas, and which aims at annexing all the New World.
There is a more marked line drawn between wealth and pretension on the
one hand, poverty and impertinent assumption on the other, than in the
dominions of the Czar. Birth, place, power, are all duly honoured, and
that sometimes to a degree which would astonish a British nobleman,
accustomed all his life to high society. I remember once travelling in a
canal boat, the most abominable of all conveyances, resembling Noah's
ark in more particulars than its shape, that I was accosted, in the
Northern States too, and near the borders, where equality and liberty
reign paramount, by a long slab-sided fellow-passenger, who, I thought,
was going to ask me to pay his passage, his appearance was so shabby,
with the following questions:
"Where are you from? are you a Livingstone?" I told him, for I like to
converse with characters, that I was from Canada. "What's your name?" he
asked. I satisfied him. He examined me from head to foot with attention,
and, as he was an elderly man, I stood the gaze most valiantly. "Well,"
he said, "I thought you were a Livingstone; you have got small ears, and
small feet and hands, and that, all the world over, is the sign of
gentle blood."
He was afterwards very civil; and, upon inquiring of the skipper of the
boat who he was, I found that my friend was a man of large fortune, who
lived somewhere near Utica, on an estate of his own.
This was before the sympathy troubles, and I can back it with another
story or two to amuse the reader.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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