In the evening we arrived at Utica, where we were to remain one night. And whilst Maria rested, and James made arrangements for our next day's journey to Trenton Falls, I went out on an exploratory journey into the little city with the old republican name. “I will go and look after Cato,” thought I to myself; “perhaps he walks here once more.”
And that he does, although in the metamorphosis; that is to say, I saw upon the corners of two houses a printed placard, upon which I read—“The tailoresses of the city of Utica call a meeting at , next Wednesday, to consider what means can be taken to remove the oppressions under which we labour, and also how we can best obtain our rights.”
Stern old advocate of the rights of the people, who wouldst not live where thou sawst them destroyed by the hands of Caesar! old magnanimous Cato, who didst die for republican freedom—thou art the victor after all! That which thou desiredst, that for which thou foughtest, is here, in this new republic, a living reality two thousand years afterwards. I see and read it here; even the lowest of the people may stand up for their rights, may make their speeches in the state's forum, equally with the most powerful, and obtain justice. Old Republican, thou hast conquered! and thy spirit lives here mightier than in that ancient Rome. “The tailoresses of the city of Utica” prove this in the city which bears the name of thy birthplace. Pity only that they had not drawn up their advertisement better! But that is of less consequence, as its purport is clear.
Thus I returned home, glad to have met the spirit of Cato, and to have seen in Utica many pretty and tastefully-built houses surrounded by plantations. The streets in the lesser cities of America are a succession of small detached villas, with their grass plots, elegant iron palisading, and fine trees in front of the houses. It is
