The Daily Cincinnati Republican, And Commercial Register

SKETCHES OF MEN AND MANNERS IN AMERICA:
BY COLONEL HAMILTON—AN ENGLISHMAN.

Joseph Bonaparte.—Joseph Bonaparte, in person, is about the middle height; but round and corpulent. In the form of his head and features there certainly exists a resemblance to Napoleon, but in the expression of the countenance there is none.

I remember, at the Pergola Theatre of Florence, discovering Louis Bonaparte from his likeness to the Emperor, which is very striking, but I am by no means confident that I should have been equally successful with Joseph. There is nothing about him indicative of high intellect. His eye is dull and heavy; his manner ungraceful and deficient in that ease and dignity which we vulgar people are apt to number among the attributes of majesty. But Joseph was not bred to king-craft, and seems to have been forced into it rather as a sort of political stop-gap, than from any particular aptitude or inclination for the duties of sovereignty. I am told he converses without any appearance of reserve on the circumstances of his short and troubled reign—if reign, indeed, it can be called—in Spain. He attributes more than half of his misfortunes to the jealousies and intrigues of the unruly marshals, over whom he could exercise no authority. He admits the full extent of his unpopularity, but claims credit for a sincere desire to benefit the people.

One circumstance connected with his deportment I particularly remember. The apartment was warm, and the ex-king evidently felt it so, for taking out his pocket handkerchief, he deliberately mopped his bald, "discrowned head," with a hand which one would certainly have guessed to have had more connection with a spit than a sceptre.
President Jackson and His Levee. We found the President had retired with a headache, but in a few minutes he appeared, though from the heaviness of his eye, evidently in a state of considerable pain. This, however, had no influence on his conversation, which was spirited and full of vivacity.

He informed us that he had been unwell for several days, and having the fatigues of a levee to encounter on the following evening, he had retired early, in order to recruit for an occasion which required the presence of all his bodily powers.—When this subject was dismissed, the conversation turned on native politics, the Indian question, the powers of the Supreme Court, and a recent debate in the Senate, which had excited considerable attention.

Of the opinion expressed by this distinguished person, it would be unpardonable, were I to say anything; but I heard them with deep interest, and certainly considered them to be marked by that union of boldness and sagacity, which is generally supposed to form a prominent feature of his character.—Gen. Jackson spoke like a man so thoroughly convinced of the justice of his views, that he announced them unhesitatingly and without reserve. This openness might be increased, perhaps, by the knowledge of my companion being a decided supporter of his government; but sincerity is so legible both in his countenance and manner, that I feel convinced that nothing but the strongest motives of state policy could make him hesitate, under any circumstances, to express boldly what he felt strongly.

On the following evening, I attended the levee. The apartments were already full before I arrived, and the crowd extended even into the hall. Three—I am not sure that there were not four—large saloons were thrown open on the occasion, and were literally crammed with the most singular and miscellaneous assemblage I had ever seen.

The numerical majority of the company seemed of the classes of tradesmen or farmers, respectable men, fresh from the plough or the counter, who, accompanied by their wives and daughters, came forth to greet their President and enjoy the splendors of the gala.—There were also generals, and commodores, and public officers of every description, and foreign ministers, and members of congress, and ladies of all ages and degree of beauty, from the fair and laughing girl of fifteen, to the haggard dowager of seventy. There were majors in broadcloths and corduroys, redolent of gin and tobacco, and majors' ladies in chintz or muslin, with huge Paris earrings, and tawny necks, profusely decorated with beads of colored glass, there were tailors from the board, and judges from the bench: lawyers who opened their mouths at one bar, and the tapster who closed them at another; in short, every trade, craft, calling and profession, appeared to have sent its delegates to this extraordinary convention.

For myself, I had seen too much of the United States to expect anything very different, and certainly anticipated that the mixture would contain all the ingredients I have ventured to describe. Yet, after all, I was taken by surprise. There were present at this levee men begrimed with all the sweat and filth accumulated in their day's, perhaps their week's labor. There were sooty artificers, evidently fresh from the forge or the workshop; and one individual, I remember, either a miller or a baker—who, wherever he passed, left marks of contact on the garments of the company. The most prominent group, however, in the assemblage was a party of Irish laborers, employed on some neighboring canal, who had evidently been apt scholars in the doctrine of liberty and equality, and were determined, on the present occasion, to assert the full privilege of "the great unwashed." I remarked these men pushing aside the more respectable portion of the company with a certain jocular audacity, which put one in mind of the humors of Donnybrook.
MR. GALLATIN.—In his youth, Mr. Gallatin must have been handsome—His countenance is expressive of great sagacity. He is evidently an acute thinker, and his conversation soon discovered him to be a ruthless exposer of traditionary or geographical sophisms, in politics and religion, by which the mind of whole nations has been frequently obscured, and from the influence of which none, perhaps, are entirely exempt. Mr. Gallatin speaks our language with a slight infusion of his native accent, but few have greater command of felicitous expressions, or write it with greater purity.
Mr. Van Buren.—Mr. Van Buren, then Secretary of State, and now Vice President of the United States, possesses, perhaps, more of the manner which in England would be called that of the world than any other of the distinguished individuals whom I met in Washington. He is evidently a clever man, with a perfect knowledge of character and the springs of human action.

Neither his conversation nor his manner are marked by anything of official reserve. Indeed, where the whole business of the government is conducted by committees of the Senate and Representatives, an American Secretary of State has few secrets, and those not of much value. The opponents of ministry, however, accuse Mr. Van Buren of being a manœuvrer in politics—a charge, I presume, to which he is obnoxious only in common with his brother statesmen, of whatever party; for where independence is possible, finesse is necessary. But on the details of party politics I say nothing. I only know that the Secretary of State is a gentleman of talent and information, of agreeable manners, and in conversation, full of anecdote and vivacity.