Emerson on the English
Born in a harsh and wet climate which keeps him in doors whenever he is at rest, and being of an affectionate and loyal temper, he dearly loves his house. If he is rich, he buys a demesne, and builds a hall; if he is in middle condition, he spares no expense on his house. Without, it is all planted: within, it is wainscoted, carved, curtained, hung with pictures, and filled with good furniture.
'Tis a passion which survives all others to deck and improve it. Hither he brings all that is rare and costly, and with the national tendency to sit fast in the same spot for many generations, it comes to be, in the course of time, a museum of heirlooms, gifts and trophies of the adventure and exploits of the family. He is very fond of silver plate, and, though he has no gallery of portraits of his ancestors, he has their punchbowls and porringers. Incredible amounts of plate are found in good houses, and the poorest have some spoon or saucepan, gift of a godmother, saved out of better times.
An English family consists of a few persons, who, from youth to age, are found revolving within a few feet of each other, as if tied by some invisible ligature, tense as that cartilage which we have seen attaching the two Siamese. England produces, under favourable conditions of care and culture, the finest women in the world. And, as the men are affectionate and true hearted, the women inspire and refine them. Nothing can be more delicate without being fantastical, nothing more firm and based in nature and sentiment than the courtship and mutual carriage of the sexes. The song of 1596 says, 'The wife of every Englishman is counted blest.' The sentiment of Imogen to Cymbelline is copied from English nature; and not less the Portia of Brutus, the Kate Percy, and the Desdemona. The romance does not exceed the height of noble passion in Mrs Lucy Hutchinson, or even as one discerns through the plain prose of Pepys's Diary, the sacred habit of an English wife. Sir Samuel Romilly could not bear the death of his wife.
Every class has its noble and tender examples. Domesticity is the taproot which enables the nation to branch wide and high. The motive and end of their trade and empire is to guard the independence and privacy of their homes. Nothing so much marks their manners as the concentration of their household ties. This domesticity is carried into court and camp. Wellington governed India and Spain and his own troops, and fought battles like a good family man, paid his debts, and though general of an army in Spain, could not stir abroad for fear of public creditors.
This taste for house and parish merits has, of course, its doting and foolish aide. Mr Cobbett attributes the huge popularity of Percival, prime minister in 1810, to the fact that he was wont to go to church every Sunday with a large quarto gilt Prayerbook under one arm, his wife hanging on the other, and followed by a long brood of children.
· This article is drawn from the archive at the Newsroom