The Portland Gazette

Perhaps, in the works of no country is there so much contradiction on all subjects, as in the public journals of Great Britain. And although on that most delicate point—the happiness and glory of their own "fast anchored isle"—which occupies so large a space in their contemplation they unite more than upon any other, yet they occasionally forget themselves, in the pursuit of some poor author or some political theory.

The last Edinburgh Review, speaking of a work, which placed in a favourable light, the feelings and affections and sentiments of the peasantry of that kingdom, has the following remarks: "This is viewing human life through a Claude Lorraine glass, and decorating it with colours which do not belong to it. A ploughman marries a ploughwoman because she is plump; generally uses her ill; thinks his children an incumbrance: very often flogs them; and, for sentiment, has nothing more nearly approaching to it, than the ideas of broiled bacon and mashed potatoes."

Now these same consistent reviewers, when it suits their humour to write upon emigration, forget this "deplorable state of the lower orders", and laud in extravagant terms, the condition, virtue and happiness of the English peasantry. If, indeed, this last picture of them, be a correct representation, heaven protect us from further immigration.