This is a man who has compelled me against all my prejudices, against all my sympathies, to love, esteem and respect him. In religion, politics, social habits and manners we are the very antipodes of one another. He is a Puritan,—I am a Puseyite;—he is a frequenter of the Meeting House,—I worship in Cathedrals;—he respects the Independent Preacher,—at home I recognise the Hierarchy of the Church of England; while in America I have fallen in love with the virtues and good works of the Jesuit Fathers;—he is a Whig,—I am an ultra Democrat;—he is a strict Protectionist,—I am a Free Trader;—he abhors Slavery,—I hold it but a name;—he condemns dancing,—I hop about like a French Grandmother;—he is quite natural,—I am quite artificial;—he despises the pomps and vanities,—while I, alas! am their loving, faithful votary. Surely no man was ever so maliciously good as this representative of stern old Connecticut; and I can only account for it by supposing that he originally came out of the Mayflower, and landed with the Pilgrim Fathers;—he is their very express, image. I envied the Whigs and Puritans such intelligence, judgment and virtue, and have tried all arts to beguile him from their ranks, but in vain; he will neither be persuaded nor convinced, and he walks along with head erect, conscious of inflexible integrity;—and, sooth to say, if I wished to speak an evil word of him, I could not.