ecidedly and unquestionably beautiful. Their
complexions are not so good as those of Englishwomen; their beauty does
not last so long; and their figures are very inferior. But they are most
beautiful. I still reserve my opinion of the national character,--just
whispering that I tremble for a radical coming here, unless he is a
radical on principle, by reason and reflection, and from the sense of
right. I fear that if he were anything else, he would return home a
Tory. . . . I say no more on that head for two months from this time,
save that I do fear that the heaviest blow ever dealt at liberty will be
dealt by this country, in the failure of its example to the earth. The
scenes that are passing in Congress now, all tending to the separation
of the States, fill one with such a deep disgust that I dislike the very
name of Washington (meaning the place, not the man), and am repelled by
the mere thought of approaching it."

"_Twenty-seventh February. Sunday._

"There begins to be great consternation here, in reference to the Cunard
packet which (we suppose) left Liverpool on the fourth. She has not yet
arrived. We scarcely know what to do with ourselves in our extreme
anxiety to get letters from home. I have really had serious thoughts of
going back to Boston, alone, to be nearer news. We have determined to
remain here until Tuesday afternoon, if she should not arrive before,
and to send Mr. Q. and the luggage on to Philadelphia to-morrow morning.
God grant she may not have gone down! but every ship that comes in
brings intelligence of a terrible gale (which indeed was felt ashore
here) on the night of the fourteenth; and the sea-captains swear (not
without some prejudice, of course) that no steamer could have lived
through it, supposing her to have been in its full fury. As there is no
steam-packet to go to England, supposing the Caledonia not to arrive, we
are obliged to send our letters by the Garrick ship, which sails early
to-morrow morning. Consequently I must huddle this up, and dispatch it
to the post-office with all speed. I have so much to say that I could
fill quires of paper, which renders this sudden pull-up the more
provoking.

"I have in my portmanteau a petition for an international copyright law,
signed by all the best American writers, with Washington Irving at
their head. They have requested me to hand it to Clay for presentation,
and to back it with any remarks I m