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I yesterday celebrated Thanksgiving Day, one of the few national festivals of the New World, a festival which ought to be observed by all nations as one of the most worthy of a noble and clear-eyed humanity. The festival was celebrated on a week day, and converted it into a Sabbath. I attended in the forenoon in a Baptist church. The minister, a man of talent, took as the subject of his discourse, after thanksgiving for both public and private benefits which were enumerated, the subject of slavery in the United States. He had been upbraided as timid in expressing himself on this subject; he now, therefore, wished to clear himself from suspicion, and to show that he had no fear. He condemned slavery, and lamented its introduction into America, but he condemned also the proceedings of the Abolitionists. They had involved the affair, they had rendered emancipation impossible in America. The preacher considered that slavery in America had never less prospect of abolition than at the present time. "Never had the Southern States grasped the chain of slavery with a firmer hand. Threats and defiance have been the offspring of threats and defiance." The hope of the speaker lay in the devotion of the African people to America, and in the colonization of Christianized negro slaves on the coast of Africa, and these he considered to be the only available means for the gradual abolition of slavery. After some interesting statements regarding the products of Africa and the advantage which free African labor must have over slave labor, together with the increasing resources   [p. 164]   of Liberia, he presented a poetically beautiful view of the possible future of the Ethiopic race in its mother-country, this hot, mystic Africa.

I had followed the preacher with the deepest interest. His concluding remarks awoke a vision within my soul.

I believe that "hot, mystic Africa," with its Mountains of the Moon, its Nile, its pyramids, and its tropical forests swarming with animal life and the luxuriance of the vegetable kingdom, awake to a new existence. I beheld Asia, with its old, primeval wisdom, its old, half-petrified kingdoms; Europe, with its manifold kingdoms and people stamped with their living peculiarities of character; I beheld America, the youngest, but ere long the most powerful, of earth's own daughters, with her new men born from the morning dew of a new life; I beheld Australia, with its colonies of prodigal but forgiven sons again received into the father's house: I beheld them all raise themselves anew in the name of the Prince of Peace, and all unite as never before on the face of the earth, in songs of praise at the Divine Nativity, "Glory to God in the highest; on earth peace, and good-will to man!"

A stream of melodious sound burst through the church, bearing with it the words of the song of praise. I recognized that mighty, magnificent chorus. I had heard it before, but I knew not where. But it seemed to me that it was the soul of every song of praise on earth.

It was that Swedish Mass, "Praise and thank the Lord," &c., which is sung by the choir of the church. I had to thank a countryman of mine, the director of the choir of this church, for this pleasure. When the congregation arose and sang Halleluiah in the song of my native land, sang it for my people, and for all people on earth, it was glorious! But I then could not sing.

I can never celebrate a more beautiful thanksgiving festival; and never shall I forget this moment.

I must yet add a few words about the state and the   [p. 165]   city in which I am a happy guest. The wealthy, beautiful Ohio is placed like the heart in that great group of states between the Eastern Ocean and the Mississippi. And although this state is one of the youngest in the Union, I feel that a more central life stirs here than in any of the states which I have hitherto visited. It seems to me as if people here wished with unprejudiced minds to do justice to all powers and tendencies of humanity, and to allow every one his proper share of the heart's life and blood. Among the facts of this class I place the Medical College here, under the direction of an intellectual young man, Dr. J. Buchanan, and in which Allopathy and Homeopathy, Hydropathy, and the so-called Botanical Medicine are admitted and studied as natural methods in nature's sanitary code, and all as serviceable in certain diseases and circumstances, all as necessary in a comprehensive system of study of health and disease. Buchanan makes man the measure of the universe and its centre. He sees the centre of man in the human brain, and from that point strikes out an infinite, glorious future, in which all those infinite possibilities now slumbering within it will develop themselves into life and harmony on earth and in the universe. Amid severe daily labor and many anxieties, he reposes in this view as in the Sabbath-festival of his spirit.

Among the facts of this class I place Oberlin College, where the youth of colored as well as white people, both boys and girls, study and take degrees in all those branches of knowledge which are taught in the American academies.

Among these I place the works and opinions of many distinguished men, who are occupied in organizing a more complete and comprehensive scheme of education for women as well as for men.

Cincinnati, the Queen of the West, which has her throne upon the banks of the beautiful river (Ohio), with   [p. 166]   a background of encircling hills, like a queen surrounded by her court ladies, is a cosmopolitan city, and embraces in her bosom peoples of all nations and all religious sects. Germans constitute a considerable portion of the population of the city, which now amounts to 120,000 souls. The Germans live here as in their old Germany. They are gemüthlich, drink beer, practice music, and still ponder here "über die Weltgeschichte." I have lately read a little book with this title by a Dr. Patte, who resides here. The Queen of the West allows all her subjects to ponder, talk, and write as best pleases them. She is the most liberal queen in the world.

Schools, however, in Ohio are not equal to those of the Northeastern States; but there is an earnest endeavor at work for their improvement. When I visited one of the district boys' schools of Cincinnati, it was said to me, as I entered one of the halls of the school, "This is our best-regulated room; here it is never necessary to use corporal punishment."

I entered, and found a pale young woman, of a mild aspect, standing in the teacher's seat, controlling with gentle power from thirty to forty wild young republicans. The elementary schools for boys, as well as for girls, are under the management of women. They are considered as more skillful than men in the training of early youth. They receive a salary of from three to five hundred dollars annually, according to the ability which they show for employment. It was with great pleasure that I heard a lesson by which these lesser children were taught to treat animals with justice and kindness. They repeated from memory stories in which cruelty to animals had been punished in some striking manner. I am not aware whether we have such lessons in our schools, but I know well enough that they are needed.

Among the scientific institutions of Cincinnati, I perceive that the Observatory owes its existence to the genius   [p. 167]   and zeal of a private man, Professor O. M. Mitchell. The history of the origin of this beautiful observatory, which is one of the highest class, deserves to be known, in order to show in its true light what the determination and enthusiasm of an individual may achieve in the New World, and in what way he can interest the mass of the people for a science which he desires to make popular. It is the triumph of genius, and, at the same time, of patience and of persevering determination. It is a great commendation of the man, and of the masses also. But the history of all this would be too long.

The arts have also began to reveal themselves in Cincinnati; but, as yet, it is only a beginning. The city itself is hardly sixty years old. There is an Art Union here, the exhibition of which I visited twice. There were some good pictures. None, however, took so much hold on my memory as a humorous little painting representing three huge swine very naturally. They were sitting upon their hams, below a rock, on which was inscribed "lard oil;" and they were gazing very attentively at one of their brethren, who was attacking a dead whale, which had been cast upon the shore hard by. Beyond lay the great ocean. This little humorously-conceived and well-painted piece hung between two pictures, the subjects of which were the "Loves of the Angels"--ethereal figures floating forth over clear lakes, and meeting each other on verdant flowery shores. A greater contrast than between those poetical pictures and the prose of the former could scarcely have been imagined. Pity only that the execution of these did not equal that of the other. Our Södermark would have given the prize to the latter. So should I; but yet I would not have had the picture in my room, nor yet the angel-poems, with all their bright anticipations.

The fine arts have hitherto received but little attention in the United States; it may be that there is but little distinguished talent, or, which I suspect is the case, that   [p. 168]   the people in general are deficient in artistic feeling. I have heard a deal said of an American painter named Alston, who is considered one of the greatest painters, and I have heard his works very highly praised and admired; yet, nevertheless, I read in one of the letters of the noble old Channing these words: "As long as I see such men as Alston in want of the necessaries of life, I feel that I have no right to possess its superfluities."

And I have heard my friends, the S.'s, of New York, speak of a young landscape painter of that city, who was possessed of unmistakable talent, and a man of estimable character, who, not long since, consulting with his young wife as to the best mode of managing for themselves and their two little ones, came to the agreement that the best mode of all would be for them to die! Good God! And this in this young, wealthy New World! And yet the pictures of this young artist are of the class which I would gladly see in every American home. And, thus encouraged, he would soon become for America what our Fahlkranz is to us, a poet in colors of the peculiar natural scenery of his country.

Sculpture has in the United States a much greater hope of successful progress; and in Hiram Powers they have produced an artist of the highest class, not so much as a creative genius as for feeling and execution. His Proserpine, his listening Fisher Boy, his Greek Slave, have been admired in old Italy. The expression, so refined and so full of soul, is as admirable in his works as the perfected beauty of the form. His creations seem to live.

Hiram Powers was born in Cincinnati, and worked there as a poor boy in the shop of a watchmaker. Here he even then showed his peculiar genius. Some of the affluent men of the city took charge of the promising boy, and furnished him with the means of studying and of traveling. Foremost among these was Mr. Longworth, and to him Powers sent, as a token of gratitude, his first   [p. 169]   original creation in marble. I say creation, because there is nothing in this work which speaks of labor. It is a figure so complete, so living and beautiful, that it is not to be described. It is the bust of a woman the size of life. They have called it Genevra, but why I know not. It ought to be called Galathea, because Pygmalian Powers has infused into her a vitality which requires only a divine indication to breathe; or, rather, it ought to be called the American, because the peculiar beauty of the features, the form and action of the head and neck, are those of the American Woman. There is none of the Greek stiffness in it; it is a regularity of beauty full of life and grace, and the expression--yes, thus ought she to look, the woman of the New World, she who, sustained by a public spirit full of benevolence, may without struggle and without protest develop the fullness and the earnestness of her being; thus ought she to smile, to glance, to move, reposing in this as in a world of truth, goodness, and beauty; thus ought she to be firm, and yet pleasing; thus divinely wise; thus angelically harmonious and kind; thus ought she to work! And then, then shall ascend the new day of the World!

Mr. Longworth had jocularly prepared me, before he conducted me into his cabinet of art, where his bust stands, "for the rudeness of the first work of a young artist," and requested me to overlook this. I gazed at the figure, and contemplated it till my heart swelled with emotion and my eyes overflowed with tears. I wept before the ideal of the new beauty, not because I was myself so far removed from it--no, but in admiration, in joy, in hope, in the consciousness that I here beheld that woman of the New World, that Galathea, which now slumbers in marble, but who will one day receive life from the Divine touch. And have I not already seen her features, her life among some of the young women of this beautiful country? I see them, and I mention beloved names!

From this time forth I shall look for these features, this expression in the countenance of every young woman; she will become dear or indifferent to me according as she more or less resembles the image of the Galathea of the New World.

Casts of this bust ought to be in the possession of every American home, and every young girl should grow up under its observation, like as Hawthorns youth grew up gazing upon that "great stone countenance," until his countenance acquired its beauty. Have I told you that I here live in the vine-district of North America? The vine, which grows luxuriantly wild throughout the whole of North America, has been cultivated on the heights which border the Ohio River with great attention, principally by Mr. Longworth, and here is made American Sherry and Champagne. The Catawba and Isabella grapes are the kinds generally cultivated in this country, but they do not ripen here as regularly as on the Rhine and the Seine; the inequality of the climate is the cause of this.

Farewell! I must make an end. When I shall next converse with you I know not; but have we not commenced an intercourse and formed a friendship which esteems but lightly time and space, and the visible sign? Our place of communion is--Eternity. Yet, nevertheless, a visible sign is precious; and if you would give me one in this distant land, how welcome it would be!

Your words are ever with me like a silent communion:

"I believe in a sun, an organizing power, of which every bright thought, all suggestive life, is an outpouring!" That was one of the first observations you made to me.

This sun has become my sun. In this light I go forth seeking and reflecting, and that which I see in this light you also shall see, for that which is mine is yours.

I embrace your wife, and kiss the little ones around her, and expect to be embraced and kissed by them again--in Sweden!

P.S.--My letter terrifies me; it has grown to such a length and breadth, that my friends in Cincinnati must regard it as one of the shapeless giant productions of the Great West, a sort of Rhine muse from the Mississippi Utgaerd. It strikes me like some sort of witch with many feet, and many eyes peeping out on all sides. And now it shall run off to Sweden! Off with it! and what the thing has of head and heart I will trust you for finding out.

In a few days I shall set off for New Orleans, and from thence to Cuba for the winter months. I wish to see the face of the earth under a tropical sun and under the dominion of the Spaniard. I wish to see the Southern Cross and the great star Argo in the heavens. Then I will turn back toward the Pole-star, and our silent North, my dear, quiet home!