The Sun.
London, England, 1845-12-23 00:00:00

OCCASIONAL SKETCHES—HERE
AND THERE.
No. v

1 FANEUIL HALL AND EDWARD 'EVERETT.
BOSTON—the Athens of America, as it is deservedly
called—is one of the most delightful of cities, whether
its situation or its socit,ty be considered. New York is
ii more bustling, Philadelphia more demure, Baltimore
' more ornamental, and Washington more pretending; but
the capital of New England is unquestionably the seat
and centre of all that is refined, noble, and generous in
the American character.
Nearly all the other cities consist entirely of long
streets intersecting each other at right angles, by which
arrangement, advantageous doubtless in some respects, a
uniform and most distracting regularity is produced. In
Philadelphia, especially, every place looks so exactly
like some other place, that a stranger finds it a matter
of no little difficulty to pilot himself through the tree-
shadowed thoroughfares. Twenty-second-street appears
to be only a new edition of Second street, with different
names on the glistPiling white door-plates. It is only
in the neighbourhood of the wharves that anything like
irregularity occurs, so that it may be easily imagined
that a Prout, a Stanfield, or a Roberts might ramble
through one of these prim p'aces from daylight until
dark without encountering a single " bit" with which to
enrich his portfolio.

It is not so in Boston ; for, after having for many
weeks travelled over the flats of the Quaker city, and of
New York, I discovered, to my great delight, on enter-
ing Boston, that our carriage was ascending a hill. In-
deed, the view which I caught of the place from the
mile-long mill-dam bridge, over whi • &he—railroad-
passed, had prepared me fiir irregu arities of surface,
for upwards from the water's edge rose houses, tier upon
tier, until, on the apex as it were of a pyramid of dwel-
lings, appeared the State House, whose dark dome stood
in bold relief against the sky.
The " City of Notions" looked more English than any
other place I had seen since I quitted home. The streets
were winding, and the houses irregular—occasionally
a quaint-looking old dwelling would meet the eye, and
there were more brick and mortar buildings than I had
seen of late. Things looked substantial ; the ware-
houses near the quays were built of good solid granite ;
so was the market-house ; and many of the larder
stores were constructed of the same durable material,
which is procured in large quantities from the Quincy
quarries, about ten miles from the city. The shop
windows were set out in quite the English style, and the
drapers' stores in Washington-street would not have
looked out of place in Oxford or Regent-streets. Many
English books and prints were in the stationers' win-
dows, and the passengers in the streets were more portly
and ponderous than the men of the middle and southern
States. They had, too, many of them, rosy cheeks, and
the ladies exhibited red and white complexions. •In one
part of the city I noticed a very old house with pointed
gables and grotesque chimneys, and overhanging upper
stories, supported by diabolical-looking brackets. For
the moment I lost all consciousness of where I was, and
it was not until a very sharp east wind blew in my teeth,
and a newsboy cried in a shrill voice, " Here's the Atlas
extra—arrival of the steamer—great news from Europe I"
that I remembered I was in New, and not in Old Eng-
land.

The celebrated Faneuil Hall is situated in Boston, and
is as well known by repute all over America as West-
minster Abbey or the Monument is in England. It was
presented to the citizens of Boston by Peter Faneuil, a
rich merchant, whose portrait adorns its interior, in the
year 1742. In the year 1763 it was, in a speech by ~a
Mr. Otis, dedicated to the cause of freedom, and it is
now universally known as the old "Cradle of Liberty."
It was in Faneuil Hall that Daniel Webster made lais
recent great Oregon speech, and thither I shall request
the company of the reader, for the purpose of making
him acquainted with another eminent foreigner, whose
name is quite as, if not more, familiar to English ears.
We will suppose ourselves arrived at the entrance of
the old place. It is a huge stone structure the lower
part or basement of it converted into shops, and its upper
portion consisting of the Hall proper. Over the en-
trance is a bell-turret, and two rows of square windows
run all round the building. It has no claims to atten-
tion on the score of architectural beauty, nevertheless, as
a relic of the olden time, in excellent preservation, it is
always an object of interest to strangers, and almost of
affection to the citizens.
Ascending a flight of broad wooden stairs, we reach 4
landing, and passing through a large old-fashioned door-
way we enter the Hall. It is of copious dimensions, lofty;
and surrounded on three sides by a deep gallery, on the
front of which, over the entrance-door, is a monster of
an eagle, carved in wood, bearing on his breast a shield,
with the stars and stripes painted thereon, and having
the motto, " E pluribus unutn " very conspicuously
painted -on a streamer which flutters gaily ou an ima-
ginary whirlwind of liberty.

Sttiart's celebrated full-length portrait of George
Washington occupies the most prominent position on the
wall fronting the entrance. It is flanked by many
smaller ones, of John Hancock, the Adamses (both ex-'
Presidents), old Peter Faneuil, a jolly-looking gentle-
man, very showily dressed, and holding a plan of the'
building in his hand; several ancient Governors of the
State of Massachusetts, some of them in the quaint
Dutch costume; and by a batch of benefactors to the

city.
The galleries are crowded to excess with ladies, for a
meeting of the Massachusetts Horticultural Society is
about to be held, and whilst the gentlemen eat, drink,
and make speeches below, the fair Bostonians, who are
very fond of meetings of this nature, will enjoy ice-
creams and eloquence in their snug seats above. It is
worthy of remark, and of imitation, too, I think, that in
America the fair sex have especial attentions paid them.
The old saying,

"When a lady's in the case
You know all other things give place,"
is realised to its fullest extent in the land of Washington.
If you are travelling in a stage coach, or a railroad car,
or a steam-boat, should a lady fancy your seat, her male
companion intimates as much, and you abdicate in her
favour. Go to hear a popular preacher, and, in order
to secure a seat, be in the church half an hour before the
time for commencing the service. Hug yourself on hav-
ing a snug corner, and enjoy the squeezings of the un-
fortunates in the crowded aisle;—alas! you hear a
rustling of silks near your pew door, and your doom is
fixed—a commanding voice sounds in your ear, "Pray
give up your seat to this lady;" and, with a very bad
grace, you are compelled to join the ranks whom you so
lately pitied. Politeness and courtesy to the sex is all
very well, but it may be carried a little too far; and the
American ladies themselves admit, or I know some of
them do, that they are treated too much like dolls, by
having such everlasting attentions paid them. But this
is not a place for the discussion of such points of eti-
quette, so let us get back again to Faneuil Hall, which
exhibits a gay and unwonted appearance, for the many
slender pillars are wreathed with flowers of all hues;
banners of various nations are disposed in festoons
around the walls, and on the tables below is such a vast
amount of good cheer, that no one can doubt, whilst
gazing, that America is truly the "land of plenty."
One might as well attempt to epitomise a cookery-book
as to venture on chronicling half of the dishes which
decorate a public dinner-table in America. There are
squashes, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, dressed in many
ways, and a hundred other things, whose very names
are unknown on this side the water; and every here and
there, on primrose-coloured pats of butter, lumps of
crystal ice sparkle like huge diamonds. Fish, with
queer fowls of every description, joints of huge propor-
tions, and made dishes by the score, appear, and then
vanish away before the attacks of the hungry visitors;
and, thus rapidly disposing of the dinner, let us glance
at the guests.
At the head of the table sits the Governor of the
State. He is a tall, firmly-built man, with a benevolent
expression and a mild, grey eye, which has a good deal
of lurking humour in its depths. No one, to look at
him, would fancy him a man who possesses almost as
much power as a crowned head—who holds the scales of
life and death in his hands—for he more resembles a
well-to-do English gentleman-farmer than a petty so-
vereign, which, in fact, he is for a time. His dress is
carelessly arranged, and it is plain enough that he pays
but little attention to personal appearance. Everybody
remarks this, and the very newspapers inquire, " Does
Governor Briggs wear a shirt ?" for that necessary
article is not indicated by the presence of a collar. His
Excellency is no great orator, but, when he speaks, the
words and sentiments evidently flow from his heart. He
is a great temperance advocate, and may frequently be
heard advocating the claims of teetotal societies. And,
not content with mere words, he carries his principles out
into practice, for a very few months since he was seen,
on Boston-common, picking up an insensible di unkard,
whom he himself conveyed to his home, and whom, on
an after visit, he made comfortable in circumstances, anLI
induced to sign the pledge.
The speeches at the horticultural show are, of course,
"much of a muchness" with those put forth in our own
country on similar occasions, and, as with us, persons of
1 all professions unite in the proceedings. People of every
shade of politics can meet in flower-gardens, and so the
subject-matter, and the compliments, and "all that,"
must be left to the reader's imagination.
The evening has advanced considerably, when there
is a buzz heard near the door—it grows louder and louder,
until a vehement burst of cheering rings through the
building, as a gentleman with a very smiling face is seen
forcing his way through the crowd as well as he can,
whilst every moment his hand is grasped by one and
another, as if ho were an old acquaintance. And so,
indeed, lie is, although years have elapsed since last he
appeared in Faneuil Hall. " Hip, hip, hip ! Inure !"
Now the ladies have caught a glimpse of him, and they
ware scarves and handkerchiefs until the air is so
agitated that it almost fans out the gas-lights. The new
arrival is a prodigious favourite of theirs, and as they
' cannot well use their tongues, and join in the universal
shout of welcome, they execute all manner of designs in
the air, and smile so sweetly, and their eyes beam so
brightly, that one envies the happy man who has caused
all this flutter and enthusiasm. Nearer and nearer he
gets to the president's chair, and by it he stands bow-
ing, with his hand upon his heart, whilst the name of
Edward Everett is pronounced with a hearty welcome
by every tongue.
And not only is lie welcomed by his own countrymen;
' many Englishmen, invited guests, are present, who
willingly do honour to g( nius and manly worth in the
person of the late Minister to the Court of Queen Vic-
toria; and amongst them we may observe one who looks