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Title: Diary in America, Series Two

Author: Frederick Marryat (AKA Captain Marryat)

Release Date: October 21, 2007 [EBook #23138]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DIARY IN AMERICA, SERIES TWO ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




Diary in America--Series Two, by Captain Marryat.

________________________________________________________________________
In the late 1830s Captain Marryat, already a famous literary figure in
North America, visited the United States and Canada, writing his
observations in two Series of volumes, each containing three books.

These were published in Britain as the six books, but were published in
America as two books with small print and thin paper, thus enabling the
Diary to be published as two books only. It is from first editions of
the American version that we have worked, though we do possess three of
the British first edition of six volumes.

While some of the observations are trivial, and some even possibly
misleading, there is a great deal of useful fact in these books, making
them well worth looking at.  There are some tables that may not
reproduce well in the PDA version of these books.

Marryat used his knowledge of America to write a novel based in the
more southerly part, especially California and Texas.

________________________________________________________________________
DIARY IN AMERICA--SERIES TWO, BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT.


VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER ONE.

TRAVELLING.

I believe that the remarks of a traveller in any country not his own,
let his work be ever so trifling or badly written, will point out some
peculiarity which will have escaped the notice of those who were born
and reside in that country, unless they happen to be natives of that
portion of it in which the circumstance alluded to was observed.  It is
a fact that no one knows his own country; from assuetude and, perhaps,
from the feelings of regard which we naturally have for our native land,
we pass over what nevertheless does not escape the eye of a foreigner.
Indeed, from the consciousness that we can always see such and such
objects of interest whenever we please, we very often procrastinate
until we never see them at all.  I knew an old gentleman who having
always resided in London, every year declared his intention of seeing
the Tower of London with its Curiosities.  He renewed this declaration
every year, put it off until the next, and has since left the world
without having ever put his intention into execution.

That the Americans would cavil at portions of the first part of my work,
I was fully convinced, and as there are many observations quite new to
most of them, they are by them considered to be false; but the United
States, as I have before observed, comprehend an immense extent of
territory, with a population running from a state of refinement down to
one of positive barbarism; and although the Americans travel much, they
travel the well beaten paths, in which that which is peculiar is not so
likely to meet the eye or even the ear.  It does not, therefore, follow
that because what I remark is new to many of them, that therefore it is
false.  The inhabitants of the cities in the United States, (and it is
those who principally visit this country), know as little of what is
passing in Arkansas and Alabama as a cockney does of the manners and
customs of Guernsey, Jersey, and the Isle of Man.

The other day, one American lady observed that, "it was too bad of
Captain Marryat to assert that ladies in America carried pigtail in
their work-boxes to present to the gentlemen;" adding, "I never heard or
saw such a thing in all my life."  Very possible; and had I stated that
at New York, Philadelphia, Boston, or Charleston, such was the practice,
she then might have been justifiably indignant.  But I have been very
particular in my localities, both in justice to myself and the
Americans, and if they will be content to confine their animadversions
to the observations upon the State to which they belong, or my general
observations upon the country and government, I shall then be content;
if, on the contrary, their natural vanity will not allow any remarks to
be made upon the peculiarities of one portion of society without
considering them as a reflection upon the whole of the Union, all I can
say is that they must, and will be annoyed.

The answer made to the lady who was "wrathy" about the pigtail was,
"Captain M has stated it to be a custom in one State.  Have you ever
been in that State?"

"No, I have not," replied the lady, "but I have never heard of it."  So
then, on a vast continent, extending almost from the Poles to the
Equator, because one individual, one mere mite of creation among the
millions (who are but a fraction of the population which the country
will support), has not heard of what passes thousands of miles from her
abode, therefore it cannot be true!  Instead of cavilling, let the
American read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest all that I have already
said, and all that I intend to say in these volumes; and although the
work was not written for them, but for my own countrymen, they will find
that I have done them friendly service.

There is much comprehended in the simple word "travelling" which heads
this chapter, and it is by no means an unimportant subject, as the
degree of civilisation of a country, and many important peculiarities,
bearing strongly upon the state of society, are to be gathered from the
high road, and the variety of entertainment for man and horse; and I
think that my remarks on this subject will throw as much light upon
American society as will be found in any chapter which I have written.

In a country abounding as America does with rivers and railroads, and
where locomotion by steam, wherever it can be applied, supersedes every
other means of conveyance, it is not to be expected that the roads will
be remarkably good; they are, however, in consequence of the excellent
arrangements of the townships and counties, in the Eastern States, as
good, and much better, than could be expected.  The great objection to
them is that they are not levelled, but follow the undulations of the
country, so that you have a variety of short, steep ascents and descents
which are very trying to the carriage-springs and very fatiguing to the
traveller.  Of course in a new country you must expect to fall in with
the delightful varieties of _Corduroy_, etcetera, but wherever the
country is settled, and the population sufficient to pay the expense,
the roads in America may be said to be as good as under circumstances
could possibly be expected.  There are one or two roads, I believe, not
more, which are government roads; but, in general, the expense of the
roads is defrayed by the States.

But, before I enter into any remarks upon the various modes of
travelling in America, it may be as well to say a few words upon the
horses, which are remarkably good in the United States: they appear to
be more hardy, and have much better hoofs, than ours in England;
throwing a shoe therefore is not of the same consequence as it is with
us, for a horse will go twenty miles afterwards with little injury.  In
Virginia and Kentucky the horses are almost all thorough-bred, and from
the best English stock.--The distances run in racing are much longer
than ours, and speed without bottom is useless.

The Americans are very fond of fast trotting horses; I do not refer to
rackers, as they term horses that trot before and gallop behind, but
fair trotters, and they certainly have a description of horse that we
could not easily match in England.  At New York, the Third Avenue, as
they term it, is the general rendezvous, I once went out there mounted
upon Paul Pry, who was once considered the fastest horse in America; at
his full speed he performed a mile in two minutes and thirty seconds,
equal to twenty-four miles per hour.  He took me at this devil of a pace
as far as Hell Gate; not wishing "to intrude," I pulled up there, and
went home again.  A pair of horses in harness were pointed out to me who
could perform the mile in two minutes fifty seconds.  They use here
light four-wheeled vehicles which they call wagons, with a seat in the
front for two persons and room for your luggage behind; and in these
wagons, with a pair of horses, they think nothing of trotting them
seventy or eighty miles in a day, at the speed of twelve miles an hour;
I have seen the horses come in, and they did not appear to suffer from
the fatigue.  You seldom see a horse bent forward, but they are all
daisy cutters.

The gentlemen of New York give very high prices for fast horses; 1,000
dollars is not by any means an uncommon price.  In a country where time
is every thing, they put a proportionate value upon speed.  Paul Pry is
a tall grey horse (now thirteen years old); to look at, he would not
fetch 10 pounds,--the English omnibuses would refuse him.

Talking about omnibuses, those of New York, and the other cities in
America, are as good and as well regulated as those of Paris; the larger
ones have four horses.  Not only their omnibuses, but their hackney
coaches are very superior to those in London; the latter are as clean as
private carriages; and with the former there is no swearing, no
dislocating the arms of poor females, hauling them from one omnibus to
the other,--but civility without servility.

The American stage-coaches are such as experience has found out to be
most suitable to the American roads, and you have not ridden in them
five miles before you long for the delightful springing of four horses
upon the level roads of England.  They are something between an English
stage [see note 1] and a French diligence, built with all the panels
open, on account of the excessive heat of the summer months.  In wet
weather these panels are covered with leather aprons, which are fixed on
with battons, a very insufficient protection in the winter, as the wind
blows through the intermediate spaces, whistling into your ears, and
rendering it more piercing than if all was open.  Moreover, they are no
protection against the rain or snow, both of which find their way in to
you.  The coach has three seats, to receive nine passengers; those on
the middle seat leaning back upon a strong and broad leather brace,
which runs across.  This is very disagreeable, as the centre passengers,
when the panels are closed, deprive the others of the light and air from
the windows.  But the most disagreeable feeling arises from the body of
the coach not being upon springs, but hung upon leather braces running
under it and supporting it on each side; and when the roads are bad, or
you ascend or rapidly descend the pitches (as they term short hills) the
motion is very similar to that of being tossed in a blanket, often
throwing you up to the top of the coach, so as to flatten your hat--if
not your head.

The drivers are very skilful, although they are generally young men--
indeed often mere boys--for they soon better themselves as they advance
in life.  Very often they drive six in hand; and if you are upset, it is
generally more the fault of the road than of the driver.  I was upset
twice in one half hour when I was travelling in the winter time; but the
snow was very deep at the time, and no one thinks anything of an upset
in America.  More serious accidents do, however, sometimes happen.  When
I was in New Hampshire, a neglected bridge broke down, and precipitated
coach, horses, and passengers into a torrent which flowed into the
Connecticut river.  Some of the passengers were drowned.  Those who were
saved, sued the township and recovered damages; but these mischances
must be expected in a new country.  The great annoyance of these public
conveyances is, that neither the proprietor or driver consider
themselves the servants of the public; a stage-coach is a speculation by
which as much money is to be made as possible by the proprietors; and as
the driver never expects or demands a fee from the passengers, they or
their comforts are no concern of his.  The proprietors do not consider
that they are bound to keep faith with the public, nor do they care
about any complaints.

The stages which run from Cincinnati to the eastward are very much
interfered with when the Ohio river is full of water, as the travellers
prefer the steam-boats; but the very moment that the water is so low on
the Ohio that the steam-boats cannot ascend the river up to Wheeling,
double the price is demanded by the proprietors of the coaches.  They
are quite regardless as to the opinion or good-will of the public; they
do not care for either, all they want is their money, and they are
perfectly indifferent whether you break your neck or not.  The great
evil arising from this state of hostility, as you may almost call it, is
the disregard of life which renders travelling so dangerous in America.
You are completely at the mercy of the drivers, who are, generally
speaking, very good-tempered, but sometimes quite the contrary; and I
have often been amused with the scenes which have taken place between
them and the passengers.  As for myself, when the weather permitted it,
I invariably went outside, which the Americans seldom do, and was always
very good friends with the drivers.  They are full of local information,
and often very amusing.  There is, however, a great difference in the
behaviour of the drivers of the mails, and coaches which are _timed_ by
the post-office, and others which are not.  If beyond his time, the
driver is mulcted by the proprietors; and when dollars are in the
question, there is an end to all urbanity and civility.

A gentleman of my acquaintance was in a mail which was behind time, and
the driver was proceeding at such a furious pace that one jerk threw a
lady to the top of the coach, and the teeth of her comb entering her
head, she fainted with pain.  The passengers called out to the driver to
stop.  "What for?"  "That last jerk has struck the lady, and she has
fainted."  "Oh, that's all!  Well, I reckon I'll give her another jerk,
which will bring her to again."  Strange to say, he prophesied right;
the next jerk was very violent, and the lady recovered her senses.

Mr E, an employe of the American government, was travelling in the
state of Indiana--the passengers had slept at an inn, and the coach was
ready at the door, but Mr E had not quite finished his toilet; the
driver dispatched the bar-keeper for him, and Mr E sent word he would
be down immediately.

"What is he about?" said the driver impatiently to the bar-keeper when
he came down again.

"Cleaning his teeth."

"_Cleaning his teeth_!" roared the driver, indignantly; "by the --," and
away went the horses at a gallop, leaving Mr E behind.

The other passengers remonstrated, but without avail; they told him that
Mr E was charged with government despatches--he didn't care; at last,
one of them offered him a dollar if he would go back.  They had
proceeded more than a mile before the offer was made; the man
immediately wheeled his horses round, and returned to the inn.

The Rev  Mr Reid gives an anecdote very characteristic of American
stage-coach travelling, and proving how little the convenience of the
public is cared for.

"When we stopped at Lowell to change horses, a female wished to secure a
place onward.  We were already, as the phrase is, more than full; we had
nine persons, and two children, which are made to go for nothing, except
in the way-bill.  Our saucy driver opened the door, and addressing two
men, who, with us, would have been outside passengers--`now, I say, I
want one of you to ride with me, and let a lady have your seat.'  The
men felt they were addressed by a superior, but kept their places.
`Come, I say,' he continued, `you shall have a good buffalo and
_umbrel_, and nothing will hurt you.'  Still they kept their places, and
refused him.  His lordship was offended, and ready to lay hands on one
of them; but, checking himself, exclaimed, `Well, if I can't get you
out, hang it if I'll take you on till one of you gets out.'  And there
we stood for some time; and he gained his point at last, and in civiller
terms, by persuading the persons on the middle seat to receive the lady;
so that we had now twelve inside."

I once myself was in a stage-coach, and found that the window glasses
had been taken out; I mentioned this to the driver, as it rained in very
fast--"Well, now," replied he, "I reckon you'd better ax the
proprietors; my business is to drive the coach."  And that was all the
comfort I could procure.  As for speaking to them about stopping, or
driving slow, it is considered as an unwarrantable interference.

I recollect an Englishman at New York telling me, that when in the
Eastern States, he had expressed a wish to go a little faster--"Oh,"
said the driver, "you do, do you; well, wait a moment, and I'll go
faster than you like."  The fellow drove very slow where the road was
good; but as soon as he came to a bad piece, he put his horses to the
gallop, and, as my friend said, they were so tossed and tumbled about,
that they hardly knew where they were.  "Is that fast enough, Mister,"
said the driver, leering in at the couch window.

As for stopping, they will stop to talk to any one on the road about the
price of the markets, the news, or any thing else; and the same
accommodation is cheerfully given to any passenger who has any business
to transact on the way.  The Americans are accustomed to it, and the
passengers never raise any objections.  There is a spirit of
accommodation, arising from their natural good temper (note 2).

I was once in a coach when the driver pulled up, and entered a small
house on the road side; after he had been there some time, as it was not
an inn, I expressed my wonder what he was about.  "I guess I can tell
you," said a man who was standing by the coach, and overheard me;
"there's a pretty girl in that house, and he's doing a bit of courting,
I expect."  Such was the fact: the passengers laughed, and waited for
him very patiently.  He remained about three-quarters of an hour, and
then came out.  The time was no doubt to him very short; but to us it
appeared rather tedious.

Mrs Jamieson, in her last work, says: "One dark night, I remember, as
the sleet and rain were falling fast, and our Extra was slowly dragged
by wretched brutes of horses through what seemed to me `Sloughs of
Despond,' some package ill stowed on the roof, which in the American
stages presents no resting-place for man or box, fell off.  The driver
alighted to fish it out of the mud.  As there was some delay, a
gentleman seated opposite to me put his head out of window to inquire
the cause; to whom the driver's voice replied, in an angry tone, `I say,
you mister, don't you sit jabbering there; but lend a hand to heave
these things aboard!'  To my surprise, the gentleman did not appear
struck by the insolence of this summons, but immediately jumped out and
rendered his assistance.  This is merely the _manner_ of the people.
The driver intended no insolence, nor was it taken as such; and my
fellow-travellers could not help laughing at my surprise."

I have mentioned these little anecdotes, as they may amuse the reader;
but it must be understood that, generally speaking, the drivers are very
good-natured and obliging, and the passengers very accommodating to each
other, and submitting with a good grace to what cannot be ameliorated.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  Miss Martineau in her work speaks of that most _delightful_ of
all conveyances--an American stage-coach; but Miss M is so very peculiar
in her ideas, that I am surprised at nothing that she says.  I will,
however, quote the Reverend Mr Reid against her:--

"I had no sooner begun to enter the coach than splash went my foot in
mud and water.  I exclaimed with surprise.  `Soon be dry, sir,' was the
reply; while he withdrew the light; that I might not explore the cause
of complaint.  The fact was, that the vehicle, like the hotel and
steam-boat, was not water-tight, and the rain had found an entrance.
There was, indeed, in this coach, as in most others, a provision in the
bottom, of holes, to let off both water and dirt; but here the dirt had
become mud, and thickened about the orifices, so as to prevent escape.
I found I was the only passenger; the morning was damp and chilly; the
state of the coach added to the sensation; and I eagerly looked about
for some means of protection.  I drew up the wooden windows; out of five
small panes of glass in the sashes three were broken.  I endeavoured to
secure the curtains; two of them had most of the ties broken, and
flapped in one's face.  There was no help in the coach, so I looked to
myself.  I made the best use I could of my garments, and put myself as
snugly as I could in the corner of a stage meant to accommodate nine
persons.  My situation just then was not among the most cheerful.  I
could see nothing; every where I could feel the wind drawn in upon me;
and as for sounds I had the calls of the driver, the screeching of the
wheels, and the song of the bull-frog for my entertainment."--Rev  Mr
Reid's Tour, vol.  I, page 100.--Very delightful, indeed!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  This spirit of accommodation produces what would at first
appear to be rudeness, but is not intended for it.  When you travel, or
indeed when walking the streets in the Western country, if you have a
cigar in your mouth, a man will come up--"Beg pardon, stranger," and
whips your cigar out of your mouth, lights his own, and then returns
yours.  I thought it rather cool at first, but as I found it was the
practice, I invariably did the same whenever I needed a light.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWO.

TRAVELLING.

In making my observations upon the rail-road and steam-boat travelling
in the United States, I shall point out some facts with which the reader
must be made acquainted.  The Americans are a restless, locomotive
people: whether for business or pleasure, they are ever on the move in
their own country, and they move in masses.  There is but one
conveyance, it may be said, for every class of people, the coach,
rail-road, or steam-boat, as well as most of the hotels, being open to
all; the consequence is that the society is very much mixed--the
millionaire, the well-educated woman of the highest rank, the senator,
the member of Congress, the farmer, the emigrant, the swindler, and the
pick-pocket, are all liable to meet together in the same vehicle of
conveyance.  Some conventional rules were therefore necessary, and those
rules have been made by public opinion--a power to which all must submit
in America.  The one most important, and without which it would be
impossible to travel in such a gregarious way, is an universal deference
and civility shewn to the women, who may in consequence travel without
protection all over the United States without the least chance of
annoyance or insult.  This deference paid to the sex is highly
creditable to the Americans; it exists from one end of the Union to the
other; indeed, in the Southern and more lawless States, it is even more
chivalric than in the more settled.  Let a female be ever so
indifferently clad, whatever her appearance may be, still it is
sufficient that she is a female; she has the first accommodation, and
until she has it, no man will think of himself.  But this deference is
not only shewn in travelling, but in every instance.  An English lady
told me, that wishing to be present at the inauguration of Mr Van
Buren, by some mistake, she and her daughters alighted from the carriage
at the wrong entrance, and in attempting to force their way through a
dense crowd were nearly crushed to death.  This was perceived, and the
word was given--`make room for the ladies.'  The whole crowd, as if by
one simultaneous effort, compressed itself to the right and left,
locking themselves together to meet the enormous pressure, and made a
wide lane, through which they passed with ease and comfort.  "It
reminded me of the Israelites passing through the Red Sea with the wall
of waters on each side of them," observed the lady.  "In any other
country we must have been crushed to death."

When I was on board one of the steam-boats, an American asked one of the
ladies to what she would like to be helped.  She replied, to some
turkey, which was within reach, and off of which a passenger had just
cut the wing and transferred it to his own plate.  The American who had
received the lady's wishes, immediately pounced with his fork upon the
wing of the turkey and carried it off to the young lady's plate; the
only explanation given, "a _lady, Sir_!" was immediately admitted as
sufficient.

The authority of the captain of a steam-boat is never disputed; if it
were, the offender would be landed on the beach.  I was on board of a
steam-boat when, at tea time, a young man sat down with his hat on.

"_You_ are in the company of ladies, sir," observed the captain very
civilly, "and I must request you to take your hat off."

"Are you the captain of the boat?" observed the young man, in a sulky
tone.

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Well, then, I suppose I must," growled the passenger, as he obeyed.

But if the stewards, who are men of colour, were to attempt to enforce
the order, they would meet with such a rebuff as I have myself heard
given.

"If it's the captain's orders, let the captain come and give them.  I'm
not going to obey a _Nigger_ like you."

Perhaps it is owing to this deference to the sex that you will observe
that the Americans almost invariably put on their best clothes when they
travel; such is the case whatever may be the cause; and the ladies in
America, travelling or not, are always well, if not expensively dressed.
They don't all swap bonnets as the two young ladies did in the
stage-coach in Vermont.

But, notwithstanding the decorum so well preserved as I have mentioned,
there are some annoyances to be met with from gregarious travelling.
One is, that occasionally a family of interesting young citizens who are
suffering from the whooping-cough, small-pox, or any other complaint,
are brought on board, in consequence of the medical gentlemen having
recommended change of air.  Of course the other children, or even
adults, may take the infection, but they are not refused admittance upon
such trifling grounds; the profits of the steam boat must not be
interfered with.

Of all travelling, I think that by railroad the most intriguing,
especially in America.  After a certain time the constant coughing of
the locomotive, the dazzling of the vision from the rapidity with which
objects are passed, the sparks and ashes which fly in your face and on
your clothes become very annoying; your only consolation is the speed
with which you are passing over the ground.

The railroads in America are not so well made as in England, and are
therefore more dangerous; but it must be remembered that at present
nothing is made in America but to last a certain time; they go to the
exact expense considered necessary and no further, they know that in
twenty years they will be better able to spend twenty dollars than one
now.  The great object is to obtain quick returns for the outlay, and,
except in few instances, durability or permanency is not thought of.
One great cause of disasters is, that the railroads are not fenced on
the sides, so as to keep the cattle off them, and it appears as if the
cattle who range the woods are very partial to take their naps on the
roads, probably from their being drier than the other portions of the
soil.  It is impossible to say how many cows have been cut into atoms by
the trains in America, but the frequent accidents arising from these
causes has occasioned the Americans to invent a sort of shovel, attached
to the front of the locomotive, which takes up a cow, tossing her off
right or left.  At every fifteen miles of the rail-roads there are
refreshment rooms; the cars stop, all the doors are thrown open, and out
rush the passengers like boys out of school, and crowd round the tables
to solace themselves with pies, patties, cakes, hard-boiled eggs, ham,
custards, and a variety of railroad luxuries, too numerous to mention.
The bell rings for departure, in they all hurry with their hands and
mouths full, and off they go again, until the next stopping place
induces them to relieve the monotony of the journey by masticating
without being hungry.

The Utica railroad is the best in the United States.  The general
average of speed is from fourteen to sixteen miles an hour; but on the
Utica they go much faster.  [See note 1.] A gentleman narrated to me a
singular specimen of the ruling passion which he witnessed on an
occasion when the rail-cars were thrown off the road, and nearly one
hundred people killed, or injured in a greater or less degree.

On the side of the road lay a man with his leg so severely fractured,
that the bone had been forced through the skin, and projected outside
his trowsers.  Over him hung his wife, with the utmost solicitude, the
blood running down from a severe cut received on her head, and kneeling
by his side was his sister, who was also much injured.  The poor women
were lamenting over him, and thinking nothing of their own hurts; and
he, it appears, was also thinking nothing about his injury, but only
lamenting the delay which would be occasioned by it.

"Oh! my dear, dear Isaac, what can be done with your leg?" exclaimed the
wife in the deepest distress.

"What will become of my leg!" cried the man.  "What's to become of my
business, I should like to know?"

"Oh! dear brother," said the other female, "don't think about your
business now; think of getting cured."

"Think of getting cured--I must think how the bills are to be met, and I
not there to take them up.  They will be presented as sure as I lie
here."

"Oh! never mind the bills, dear husband--think of your precious leg."

"Not mind the bills! but I must mind the bills--my credit will be
ruined."

"Not when they know what has happened, brother.  Oh! dear, dear--that
leg, that leg."

"D---n the leg; what's to become of my business," groaned the man,
falling on his back from excess of pain.

Now this was a specimen of true commercial spirit.  If this man had not
been nailed to the desk, he might have been a hero.

I shall conclude this chapter with an extract from an American author,
which will give some idea of the indifference as to loss of life in the
United States.

"Every now and then is a tale of railroad disaster in some part of the
country, at inclined planes, or intersecting points, or by running off
the track, making splinters of the cars, and of men's bones; and
locomotives have been known to encounter, head to head, like two rams
fighting.  A little while previous to the writing of these lines, a
locomotive and tender shot down the inclined plain at Philadelphia, like
a falling star.  A woman, with two legs broken by this accident, was put
into an omnibus, to be carried to the hospital, but the driver, in his
speculations, coolly replied to a man, who asked why he did not go on?--
that he was waiting for a _full load_."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  The railroads finished in America in 1835 amounted in length to
1,600 miles; those in progress, and not yet complete, to 1,270 miles
more.  The canals completed were in length 2,500 miles, unfinished 687
miles.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER THREE.

TRAVELLING.

The most general, the most rapid, the most agreeable, and, at the same
time, the most dangerous, of American travelling is by steam boats.  It
will be as well to give the reader an idea of the extent of this
navigation by putting before him the lengths of some of the principal
rivers in the United States.

+=====================================================+======+
Ý                                                     ÝMiles.Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝMissouri and Mississippi                             Ý  4490Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝDo. to its junction with the Mississippi             Ý  3181Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝMississippi proper, to its junction with the MissouriÝ  1600Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝDo. to the Gulf of Mexico                            Ý  2910Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝArkansas River, a branch of the Mississippi          Ý  2170Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝSt Lawrence River, including the Lakes              Ý  2075Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝPlatte River, a branch of the Missouri               Ý  1600Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝRed River, a branch of the Mississippi               Ý  1500Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝOhio River, Do. Do.                                  Ý  1372Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝColumbia River, empties into the Pacific Ocean,      Ý  1315Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝKansas River, a branch of the Missouri               Ý  1200Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝYellowstone Do. Do.                                  Ý  1100Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝTennessee Do. Ohio                                   Ý   756Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝAlabama River, empties into the Gulf of Mexico       Ý   575Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝCumberland River, a branch of the Ohio               Ý   570Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝSusquehanna River, empties into Chesapeake Bay       Ý   460Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝIllinois River, a branch of the Mississippi          Ý   430Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝAppalachicola River, empties into the Gulf of Mexico Ý   425Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝSt John's River, New Brunswick, rises in Maine      Ý   415Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝConnecticut River, empties into Long Island Sound    Ý   410Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝWabash River, a branch of the Ohio                   Ý   360Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝDelaware River, empties into the Atlantic Ocean      Ý   355Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝJames River, empties into Chesapeake Bay             Ý   350Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝRoanoke River, empties into Albemarle Sound          Ý   350Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝGreat Pedee River, empties into Atlantic Ocean       Ý   350Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝSantee River, empties into Atlantic Ocean            Ý   340Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝPotomac River, empties into Chesapeake Bay           Ý   335Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝHudson River, empties into Atlantic Ocean            Ý   320Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝAltamaha River, empties into Atlantic Ocean          Ý   300Ý
+-----------------------------------------------------+------+
ÝSavannah River, empties into Atlantic Ocean          Ý   290Ý
+=====================================================+======+

Voice from America.

Many of the largest of these rivers are at present running through
deserts--others possess but a scanty population on their banks; but, as
the west fills up, they will be teeming with life, and the harvest of
industry will freight many more hundreds of vessels than those which at
present disturb their waters.

The Americans have an idea that they are very far ahead of us in steam
navigation, a great error which I could not persuade them of.  In the
first place, their machinery is not by any means equal to ours; in the
next, they have no sea-going steam vessels, which after all is the great
desideratum of steam navigation.  Even in the number and tonnage of
their mercantile steam vessels they are not equal to us, as I shall
presently show, nor have they yet arrived to that security in steam
navigation which we have.

The return of vessels belonging to the Mercantile Steam Marine of Great
Britain, made by the Commissioners on the Report of steam-vessel
accidents in 1839, is, number of vessels, 810; tonnage, 157,840; horse
power, 63,250.

Mr Levi Woodbury's Report to Congress in December, 1838, states the
number of American steam vessels to be 800, and the tonnage to be
155,473; horse power, 57,019.

It is but fair to state, that the Americans have the credit of having
sent the first steam vessel across the Atlantic.  In 1819, a steam
vessel, built at New York, crossed from Savannah to Liverpool in
twenty-six days.

The number of _sea-going_ steam vessels in England is _two hundred and
eighty-two_, while in the United States they have not more than ten at
the outside calculation.  In the size of our vessels also we are far
superior to them.  I here insert a table, shewing the dimensions of our
largest vessels, as given in the Report to the House of Commons, and
another of the largest American vessels collected from the Report of Mr
Levi Woodbury to Congress.

_Table shewing some of the Dimensions of the Hull and Machinery of the
five largest ships yet built or building_.

[Table to be added in a later edition.]

But the point on which we are so vastly superior to the Americans, is in
our steam vessels of war.  They have but one in the United States, named
the Fulton the Second.  The following is a list of those belonging to
the Government of Great Britain, with their tonnage:--

+=========+=====+=========+=====+===========+=====+
Ý         ÝTons.Ý         ÝTons.Ý           ÝTons.Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAcheron  Ý  722ÝFearless Ý  165ÝMyrtle     Ý  116Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAdder    Ý  237ÝFirebrandÝ  495ÝOtter      Ý  237Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAdvice   Ý  475ÝFire Fly Ý  550ÝPhoenix    Ý  809Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAfrican  Ý  295ÝFlamer   Ý  496ÝPigmy      Ý  230Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAlban    Ý  294ÝFury     Ý  166ÝPike       Ý  112Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAriel    Ý  149ÝGleaner  Ý  306ÝPluto      Ý  365Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAsp      Ý  112ÝGorgon   Ý 1111ÝProspero   Ý  244Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝAvon     Ý  361ÝHecate   Ý  815ÝRedwing    Ý  139Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝBeaver   Ý  128ÝHecla    Ý  815ÝRadamanthusÝ  813Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝBlazer   Ý  527ÝHermes   Ý  716ÝSalamander Ý  818Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝBoxer    Ý  159ÝHydra    Ý  818ÝShearwater Ý  343Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝCarron   Ý  294ÝJasper   Ý  230ÝSpitfire   Ý  553Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝCharon   Ý  125ÝKite     Ý  300ÝSprightly  Ý  234Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝColumbia Ý  360ÝLightningÝ  296ÝStrombolo  Ý  966Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝComet    Ý  238ÝLucifer  Ý  387ÝSwallow    Ý  133Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝConfianceÝ  295ÝMedea    Ý  835ÝTartarus   Ý  523Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝCuckoo   Ý  234ÝMedusa   Ý  889ÝUrgent     Ý  583Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝCyclops  Ý 1190ÝMegaera  Ý  717ÝVesuvius   Ý  966Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝDasher   Ý  260ÝMerlin   Ý  889ÝVolcano    Ý  720Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝDee      Ý  704ÝMessengerÝ  733ÝWidgeon    Ý  164Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝDoterel  Ý  723ÝMeteor   Ý  296ÝWildfire   Ý  186Ý
+---------+-----+---------+-----+-----------+-----+
ÝEcho     Ý  298ÝMonkey   Ý  211ÝZephyr     Ý  237Ý
+=========+=====+=========+=====+===========+=====+

_Government Steam Vessels Building_.

+======+====+======+===+==========+===+
ÝAlectoÝ 799ÝLizardÝ282ÝPolyphemusÝ799Ý
+------+----+------+---+----------+---+
ÝArdentÝ 799ÝLocustÝ282ÝPrometheusÝ799Ý
+------+----+------+---+----------+---+
ÝDover ÝIronÝMedinaÝ889Ý          Ý   Ý
+======+====+======+===+==========+===+

I trust that the above statement will satisfy the Americans that we are
ahead of them in steam navigation.  In consequence of their isolation,
and having no means of comparison with other countries, the Americans
see only their own progress, and seem to have forgotten that other
nations advance as well as themselves.  They appear to imagine that
while they are going ahead all others are standing still: forgetting
that England with her immense resources is much more likely to surpass
them than to be left behind.

We must now examine the question of the proportionate security in steam
boat travelling in the two countries.  The following table, extracted
from the Report of the Commissioners on Steam boat Accidents, will show
the casualties which have occurred in this country in _ten_ years.

Abstract of ninety-two Accidents.  Table not included.

The principal portion of this loss of life has been occasioned by
vessels having been built for _sale_, and not sea-worthy; an occurrence
too common, I am afraid, in both countries.

The author of "A Voice from America" states the list of steamboat
disasters, on the waters of the United States, for _twelve months_ out
of the years 1837-38, by bursting of boilers, burning, wrecks, etcetera,
besides numerous others of less consequence, comprehends the total loss
of eight vessels and _one thousand and eighty lives_.

So that we have in England, loss in ten years, 634; one year, 63.

In America, loss in one year, 1,080.

The report of Mr Woodbury to Congress is imperfect, which is not to be
wondered at, as it is almost impossible to arrive at the truth; there
is, however, much to be gleaned from it.  He states that, since the
employment of steam vessels in the United States, 1,300 have been built,
and of them _two hundred and sixty_ have been lost by accidents.

The greatest loss of life by collision and sinking, was in the Monmouth,
(Indians transporting to the West), in 1837, by which three hundred
lives were lost; Oronoka, by explosion, by which one hundred and thirty
or more lives were lost and Moselle, at Cincinnati, by which from one
hundred to one hundred and twenty lives were lost.

The greatest loss by shipwreck was in the case of the Home, on the coast
of South Carolina, when one hundred lives were lost; the greatest by
fire, the Ben Sherrod, in 1837, by which one hundred and thirty
perished.

The three great casualties which occurred during my stay in America,
were those of the Ben Sherrod, by fire; the Home, by wreck; and the
Moselle, by explosion: and as I have authentic details of them, by
Americans who were on board, or eye-witnesses, I shall lay them before
my readers.  The reader will observe that there is a great difference in
the loss of life mentioned in Mr Woodbury's report and in the
statements of those who were present.  I shall hereafter state why I
consider the latter as the more correct.

LOSS OF THE BEN SHERROD, BY A PASSENGER.

"On Sunday morning, the 6th of May 1837, the steam-boat Ben Sherrod,
under the command of Captain Castleman, was preparing to leave the levee
at New Orleans.  She was thronged with passengers.  Many a beautiful and
interesting woman that morning was busy in arranging the little things
incident to travelling, and they all looked forward with high and
certain hope to the end of their journey.  Little innocent children
played about in the cabin, and would run to the guards--the _guards_ of
an American steam-boat are an extension of the deck on each side, beyond
the paddle boxes, which gives great width for stowage--now and then, to
wonder, in infantine language, at the next boat, or the water, or
something else that drew their attention.  "Oh, look here, Henry--I
don't like that boat, Lexington."--"I wish I was going by her," said
Henry, musingly.  The men too were urgent in their arrangements of the
trunks, and getting on board sundry articles which a ten days' passage
rendered necessary.  In fine all seemed hope, and joy, and certainty.

"The cabin of the Ben Sherrod was on the upper deck, but narrow in
proportion to her build, for she was what is technically called a
Tennessee cotton boat.  To those who have never seen a cotton boat
loaded, it is a wondrous sight.  The bales are piled up from the lower
guards wherever there is a cranny until they reach above the second
deck, room being merely left for passengers to walk outside the cabin.
You have regular alleys left amid the cotton in order to pass about on
the first deck.  Such is a cotton boat carrying from 1,500 to 2,000
bales.

"The Ben's finish and accommodation of the cabin was by no means such as
would begin to compare with the regular passenger boats.  It being late
in the season, and but few large steamers being in port in consequence
of the severity of the times, the Ben Sherrod got an undue number of
passengers, otherwise she would have been avoided, for her
accommodations were not enticing.  She had a heavy freight on board, and
several horses and carriages on the forecastle.  The build of the Ben
Sherrod was heavy, her timbers being of the largest size.

"The morning was clear and sultry--so much so, that umbrellas were
necessary to ward off the sun.  It was a curious sight to see the
hundreds of citizens hurrying on board to leave letters, and to see them
coming away.  When a steam-boat is going off on the Southern and Western
waters, the excitement is fully equal to that attendant upon the
departure of a Liverpool packet.  About ten o'clock AM the ill-fated
steamer pushed off upon the turbid current of the Mississippi, as a swan
upon the waters.  In a few minutes she was under way, tossing high in
air, bright and snowy clouds of steam at every half revolution of her
engine.  Talk not of your northern steam-boats!  A Mississippi steamer
of seven hundred tons burthen, with adequate machinery, is one of the
sublimities of poetry.  For thousands of miles that great body forces
its way through a desolate country, against an almost restless current,
and all the evidence you have of the immense power exerted, is brought
home to your senses by the everlasting and majestic burst of exertion
from her escapement pipe, and the ceaseless stroke of the paddle wheels.
In the dead of night, when amid the swamps on either side, your noble
vessel winds her upward way--when not a soul is seen on board but the
officer on deck--when nought is heard but the clang of the fire-doors
amid the hoarse coughing of the engine, imagination yields to the
vastness of the ideas thus excited in your mind, and if you have a soul
that makes you a man, you cannot help feeling strongly alive to the
mightiness of art in contrast with the mightiness of nature.  Such a
scene, and hundreds such have I realised, with an intensity that cannot
be described, always made me a better man than before.  I never could
tire of the steam-boat navigation of the Mississippi.

"On Tuesday evening, the 9th of May 1837, the steam-boat Prairie, on her
way to St Louis, bore hard upon the Sherrod.  It was necessary for the
latter to stop at Fort Adams, during which the Prairie passed her.
Great vexation was manifested by some of the passengers, that the
Prairie should get to Natchez first.  This subject formed the theme of
conversation for two or three hours, the captain assuring them that he
would beat her _any how_.  The Prairie is a very fast boat, and under
equal chances could have beaten the Sherrod.  So soon as the business
was transacted at Fort Adams, for which she stopped, orders were given
to the men to keep up their fires to the extent.  It was now a little
after 11 p.m.  The captain retired to his berth, with his clothes on,
and left the deck in charge of an officer.  During the evening a barrel
of whisky had been turned out, and permission given to the hands to do
as they pleased.  As may be supposed, they drew upon the barrel quite
liberally.  It is the custom on all boats to furnish the firemen with
liquor, though a difference exists as to the mode.  But it is due to the
many worthy captains now on the Mississippi, to state that the practice
of furnishing spirits is gradually dying away, and where they are given,
it is only done in moderation.

"As the Sherrod passed on above Fort Adams towards the mouth of the
Homochitta, the wood piled up in the front of the furnaces several times
caught fire, and was once or twice imperfectly extinguished by the
drunken hands.  It must be understood by those of my readers who have
never seen a western steamboat, that the boilers are entirely above the
first deck, and that when the fires are well kept up for any length of
time, the heat is almost insupportable.  Were it not for the draft
occasioned by the speed of the boat it would be very difficult to attend
the fires.  As the boat was booming along through the water close
in-shore, for, in ascending the river, boats go as close as they can to
avoid the current, a negro on the beach called out to the fireman that
the wood was on fire.  The reply was, "Go to h---l, and mind your own
business," from some half intoxicated hand.  "Oh, massa," answered the
negro, "if you don't take care, you will be in h---l before I will."
On, on, on went the boat at a tremendous rate, quivering and trembling
in all her length at every revolution of the wheels.  The steam was
heated so fast, that it continued to escape through the safety valve,
and by its sharp singing, told a tale that every prudent captain would
have understood.  As the vessel rounded the bar that makes off from the
Homochitta, being compelled to stand out into the middle of the river in
consequence, the fire was discovered.  It was about one o'clock in the
morning.  A passenger had got up previously, and was standing on the
boiler deck, when to his astonishment, the fire broke out from the pile
of wood.  A little presence of mind, and a set of men unintoxicated,
could have saved the boat.  The passenger seized a bucket, and was about
to plunge it overboard for water, when he found it locked.  An instant
more, and the fire increased in volumes.  The captain was now awaked.
He saw that the fire had seized the deck.  He ran aft, and announced the
ill-tidings.  No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than the
shrieks of mothers, sisters, and babes, resounded through the hitherto
silent cabin in the wildest confusion.  Men were aroused from their
dreaming cots to experience the hot air of the approaching fire.  The
pilot, being elevated on the hurricane deck, at the instant of
perceiving the flames, put the head of the boat shoreward.  She had
scarcely got under good way in that direction, than the tiller ropes
were burnt asunder.  Two miles at least, from the land, the vessel took
a sheer, and, borne upon by the current, made several revolutions, until
she struck off across the river.  A [sand] bar brought her up for the
moment.

"The flames had now extended fore and aft.  At the first alarm several
deck passengers had got in the yawl that hung suspended by the davits.
A cabin passenger, endowed with some degree of courage and presence of
mind, expostulated with them, and did all he could to save the boats for
the ladies.  'Twas useless.  One got out his knife and cut away the
forward tackle.  The next instant and they were all, to the number of
twenty or more, launched onto the angry waters.  They were seen no more.

"The boat being lowered from the other end, filled and was useless.  Now
came the trying moment.  Hundreds leaped from the burning wreck into the
waters.  Mothers were seen standing on the guards with hair dishevelled,
praying for help.  The dear little innocents clung to the side of their
mothers and with their tiny hands beat away the burning flames.  Sisters
calling out to their brothers in unearthly voices--`Save me, oh save me,
brother!'--wives crying to their husbands to save their children, in
total forgetfulness of themselves,--every second or two a desperate
plunge of some poor victim falling on the appalled ear,--the dashing to
and fro of the horses on the forecastle, groaning audibly from pain of
the devouring element--the continued puffing of the engine, for it still
continued to go, the screaming mother who had leaped overboard in the
desperation of the moment with her only child,--the flames mounting to
the sky with the rapidity of lightning,--shall I ever forget that
scene--that hour of horror and alarm!  Never, were I to live till the
memory should forget all else that ever came to the senses.  The short
half hour that separated and plunged into eternity two human beings has
been so burnt into the memory that even now I think of it more than half
the day.

"I was swimming to the shore with all my might, endeavoured to sustain a
mother and her child.  She sank twice, and yet I bore her on.  My
strength failed me.  The babe was nothing--a mere cork.  `Go, go,' said
the brave mother, `save my child, save my--' and she sank, to rise no
more.  Nerved by the resolution of that woman, I reached the shore in
safety.  The babe I saved.  Ere I had reached the beach, the Sherrod had
swung off the bar, and was floating down, the engine having ceased
running.  In every direction heads dotted the surface of the river.  The
burning wreck now wore a new, and still more awful appearance.  Mothers
were seen clinging, with the last hope to the blazing timbers, and
dropping off one by one.  The screams had ceased.  A sullen silence
rested over the devoted vessel.  The flames became tired of their
destructive work.

"While I sat dripping and overcome upon the beach, a steam boat, the
Columbus, came in sight, and bore for the wreck.  It seemed like one
last ray of hope gleaming across the dead gloom of that night.  Several
wretches were saved.  And still another, the Statesman, came in sight.
More, more were saved.

"A moment _to me_ had only elapsed, when high in the heavens the cinders
flew, and the country was lighted all round.  Still another boat came
booming on.  I was happy that more help had come.  After an exchange of
words with the Columbus, the captain continued on his way under full
steam.  Oh, how my heart sank within me!  The waves created by his boat
sent many a poor mortal to his long, long home.  A being by the name of
Dougherty was the captain of that merciless boat.  Long may he be
remembered!

"My hands were burnt, and now I began to experience severe pain.  The
scene before me--the loss of my two sisters and brother, whom I had
missed in the confusion, all had steeled my heart.  I could not weep--I
could not sigh.  The cries of the babe at my side were nothing to me.

"Again--another explosion! and the waters closed slowly and sullenly
over the scene of disaster and death.  Darkness resumed her sway, and
the stillness was only interrupted by the distant efforts of the
Columbus and Statesman in their laudable exertions to save human life.

"Captain Castleman lost, I believe, a father and child.  Some argue,
this is punishment enough.  No, it is not.  He had the lives of hundreds
under his charge.  He was careless of his trust; he was guilty of a
crime that nothing will ever wipe out.  The bodies of two hundred
victims are crying out from the depth of the father of waters for
vengeance.  Neither society nor law will give it.  His punishment is yet
to come.  May I never meet him!

"I could tell of scenes of horror that would rouse the indignation of a
stoic; but I have done.  As to myself, I could tell you much to excite
your interest.  It was more than three weeks after the occurrence before
I ever shed a tear.  All the fountains of sympathy had been dried up,
and my heart was as stone.  As I lay on my bed the twenty-fourth day
after, tears, salt tears, came to my relief, and I felt the loss of my
sisters and brother more deeply than ever.  Peace be to their spirits!
they found a watery grave.

"In the course of all human events, scenes of misery will occur.  But
where they rise from sheer carelessness, it requires more than christian
fortitude to forgive the being who is in fault.  I repeat, may I never
meet Captain Castleman or Captain Dougherty!

"I shall follow this tale of woe by some strictures on the mode of
building steam-boats in the west, and show that human life has been
jeopardised by the demoniac spirit of speculation, cheating and roguery.
The fate of the Ben Sherrod shall be my text."

It will be seen from this narrative, that the loss of the vessel was
occasioned by racing with another boat, a frequent practice on the
Mississippi.  That people should run such risk, will appear strange but
if any of my readers had ever been on board of a steam vessel in a race,
they would not be surprised; the excitement produced by it is the most
powerful that can be conceived--I have myself experienced it, and can
answer for the truth of it.  At first, the feeling of danger
predominates, and many of the passengers beg the captain to desist: but
he cannot bear to be passed by, and left astern.  As the race continues,
so do they all warm up, until even those who, most aware of the danger,
were at first most afraid, are to be seen standing over the very
boilers, shouting, huzzaing, and stimulating the fireman to blow them
up; the very danger gives an unwonted interest to the scene; and
females, as well as men, would never be persuaded to cry out, "Hold,
enough!"

Another proof of the disregard of human life is here given in the fact
of one steam-boat passing by and rendering no assistance to the drowning
wretches; nay, it was positively related to me by one who was in the
water, that the blows of the paddles of this steam-boat sent down many
who otherwise might have been saved.

When I was on the Lakes, the wood which was piled close to the
fire-place caught fire.  It was of no consequence, as it happened, for
it being a well-regulated boat, the fire was soon extinguished; but I
mention it to show the indifference of one of the men on board.  About
half an hour afterwards, one of his companions roused him from his
berth, shaking him by the shoulder to wake him, saying, "Get up, the
wood's a-fire--quick."  "Well, I knew that 'fore I turn'd in," replied
the man, yawning.

The loss of the Home occasioned many of the first families in the states
to go into deep mourning, for the major portion of the passengers were
highly respectable.  I was at New York when she started.  I had had an
hour's conversation with Professor Nott and his amiable wife, and had
made arrangements with them to meet them in South Carolina.  We never
met again, for they were in the list of those who perished.

LOSS OF THE HOME.

"The steam-packet Home, commanded by Capt.  White, left New York, for
Charleston, South Carolina, at four o'clock, p.m., on Saturday, the 7th
Oct. 1837, having on board between eighty and ninety passengers, and
forty-three of the boat's crew, including officers, making in all about
one hundred and thirty persons.  The weather at this time was very
pleasant, and all on board appeared to enjoy, in anticipation, a
delightful and prosperous passage.  On leaving the wharf, cheerfulness
appeared to fill the hearts and enliven the countenances of this
floating community.  Already had conjectures been hazarded, as to the
time of their arrival at the destined port, and high hopes were
entertained of an expeditious and pleasant voyage.  Before six
o'clock,--a check to these delusive expectations was experienced, by the
boat being run aground on the Romer Shoal, near Sandy Hook.  It being
ebb tide, it was found impossible to get off before the next flood;
consequently, the fires were allowed to burn out, and the boat remained
until the flood tide took her off, which was between ten and eleven
o'clock at night, making the time of detention about four or five hours.
As the weather was perfectly calm, it cannot, reasonably, be supposed
that the boat could have received any material injury from this
accident; for, during the time that it remained aground, it had no other
motion than an occasional roll on the keel from side to side.  The night
continued pleasant.  The next morning, (Sunday,) a moderate breeze
prevailed from the north-east.  The sails were spread before the wind,
and the speed of the boat, already rapid, was much accelerated.  All
went on pleasantly till about noon, when the wind had increased, and the
sea became rough.  At sunset, the wind blew heavily, and continued to
increase during the night; at daylight, on Monday, it had become a gale.
During the night, much complaint was made that the water came into the
berths, and before the usual time of rising, some of the passengers had
abandoned them on that account.

"The sea, from the violence of the gale, raged frightfully, and caused a
general anxiety amongst the passengers; but still, they appeared to rely
on the skill and judgment of the captain and officers,--supposing, that
every exertion would be used, on their part, for the preservation of so
many valuable lives as were then entrusted to those who had the charge
of this frail boat.  Early on Monday, land was discovered, nearly ahead,
which, by many, was supposed to be False Cape, on the northern part of
Hatteras.  Soon after this discovery, the course of the boat was changed
from southerly to south-easterly, which was the general course through
the day, though with some occasional changes.  The condition of the boat
was now truly alarming; it bent and twisted, when struck by a sea, as if
the next would rend it asunder: the panels of the ceiling were falling
from their places; and the hull, as if united by hinges, was bending
against the feet of the braces.  Throughout the day, the rolling and
pitching were so great, that no cooking could be done on board.

"It has already been stated, that the general course of the boat was,
during the day, south-easterly, and consequently in what is called the
trough of the sea, as the wind was from the north-east.  Late in the
afternoon, the boat was reported to be in twenty-three fathoms of water,
when the course was changed to a south-westerly.  Soon after this, it
was observed that the course was again changed, to north-westerly; when
the awful truth burst upon us, that the boat must be filling; for we
could imagine no other cause for this sudden change.  This was but a
momentary suspense; for within a few minutes, all the passengers were
called on to bale, in order to prevent the boat from sinking.
Immediately, all were employed, but with little effect; for,
notwithstanding the greatest exertion on the part of the passengers,
including even many of the ladies, the water was rapidly increasing, and
gave most conclusive evidence, that, unless we reached the shore within
a few hours, the boat must sink at sea, and probably not a soul be left
to communicate the heart-rending intelligence to bereaved and
disconsolate friends.  Soon after the boat was headed towards the land,
the water had increased so much, as to reach the fire under the boilers,
which was soon extinguished.  Gloomy indeed was the prospect before us.
With one hundred and thirty persons in a sinking boat, far out at sea,
in a dark and tempestuous night, with no other dependence for reaching
the shore than a few small and tattered sails, our condition might be
considered truly awful.  But, with all these disheartening
circumstances, hope, delusive hope, still supported us.  Although it was
evident that we must soon sink, and our progress towards the land was
very slow, still we cherished the expectation that the boat would
finally be run on shore, and thus most of us be delivered from a watery
grave.  Early in the afternoon, the ladies had been provided with strips
of blankets, that they might be lashed to such parts of the boat as
would afford the greatest probability of safety.

"In this condition, and with these expectations, we gradually, but with
a motion nearly imperceptible, approached, what to many of us was an
untried, and almost an unknown shore.  At about eleven o'clock, those
who had been employed in baling were compelled to leave the cabin, as
the boat had sunk until the deck was nearly level with the water, and it
appeared too probable that all would soon be swallowed up by the foaming
waves.  The heaving of the lead indicated an approach to the shore.
Soon was the cheering intelligence of `Land! land!' announced by those
on the look-out.  This, for a moment, aroused the sinking energies of
all, when a general bustle ensued, in the hasty, but trifling,
preparations that could be made for safety, as soon as the boat should
strike.  But what were the feelings of an anxious multitude, when,
instead of land, a range of angry breakers were visible just ahead; and
land, if it could be seen at all, was but half perceptible in the
distance far beyond.

"As every particular is a matter of interest, especially to those who
had friends and relatives on board,--it may not be improper to state,
that one individual urged the propriety of lowering the small boats, and
putting the ladies and children into them for safety, with suitable
persons to manage them, before we struck the breakers.  By this
arrangement, had it been effected, it is believed that the boats might
have rode out the gale during the night, and have been rescued in the
morning by passing vessels, and thus all, or nearly all, have been
saved.  But few supported this proposition, and it could not be done
without the prompt interference of those who had authority to command,
and who would be obeyed.

"Immediately before we struck, one or two passengers, by the aid of some
of the seamen, attempted to seek safety in one of the bouts at the
quarter, when a breaker struck it, swept it from the davits, and carried
with it a seaman, who was instantly lost.  A similar attempt was made to
launch the long-boat from the upper deck, by the chief mate Mr Mathews,
and others.  It was filled with several passengers, and some of the
crew; but, as we were already within the verge of the breakers, this
boat shared the fate of the other, and all on board (about ten in
number) perished.

"Now commenced the most heart-rending scene.  Wives clinging to
husbands,--children to parents,--and women who were without protectors,
seeking aid from the arm of the stranger, all awaiting the results of a
moment, which would bring with it either life or death.  Though an
intense feeling of anxiety must, at this time, have filled every breast,
yet not a shriek was heard, nor was there any extraordinary exclamation
of excitement or alarm.  A slight agitation was, however, apparent in
the general circle.  Some few hurried from one part of the boat to
another, as if seeking place of greater safety; yet most, and
particularly those who had the melancholy charge of wives and children,
remained quiet and calm observers of the scene before them.

"The boat, at length, strikes; it stops, as motionless as a bar of lead.
A momentary pause follows, as if the angel of death shrunk from so
dreadful a work of slaughter.  But soon the work of destruction
commenced.  A breaker with a deafening crash, swept over the boat,
carrying its unfortunate victims into the deep.  At the same time, a
simultaneous rush was made towards the bows of the boat.  The forward
deck was covered.  Another breaker came, with irresistible force, and
all within its sweep disappeared.  Our numbers were now frightfully
reduced.  The roaring of the waters, together with the dreadful crash of
breaking timbers, surpasses the power of description.  Some of the
remaining passengers sought shelter from the encroaching dangers, by
retreating to the passage, on the lee side of the boat, that leads from
the after to the forward deck, as if to be as far as possible from the
grasp of death.  It may not be improper here to remark, that the
destruction of the boat, and loss of life, was, doubtless, much more
rapid than it otherwise would have been, from the circumstance of the
boat heeling to windward, and the deck, which was nearly level with the
water, forming, in consequence, an inclined plane, upon which the waves
broke with their full force.

"A large proportion of those who rushed into this passage, were ladies
and children, with a few gentlemen who had charge of them.  The crowd
was so dense, that many were in danger of being crushed by the
irresistible pressure.  Here were perhaps some of the most painful
sights ever beheld.  Before introducing any of the closing scenes of
individuals, which the writer witnessed, or which he has gathered from
his fellow passengers, he would beg to be understood, that it is not for
the gratification of the idle curiosity of the careless and indifferent
reader, or to pierce afresh the bleeding wounds of surviving friends,
but to furnish such facts as may be interesting, and which, perhaps,
might never be attained through any other channel.

"As the immediate connections of the writer are already informed of the
particulars relating to his own unhappy bereavement, there is no
necessity for entering in a minute detail of this melancholy event.

"This passage contained perhaps thirty or more persons, consisting of
men, women and children, with no apparent possibility of escape;
enclosed within a narrow aperture, over which was the deck, and both
ends of which were completely closed by the fragments of the boat and
the rushing of the waves.  While thus shut up, death appeared
inevitable.  Already were both decks swept of everything that was on
them.  The dining cabin was entirely gone, and everything belonging to
the quarter-deck was completely stripped off, leaving not even a
stanchion or particle of the bulwarks; and all this was the work of
about five minutes.

"The starboard wheel-house, and everything about it, was soon entirely
demolished.  As much of the ceiling forward of the starboard wheel had,
during the day, fallen from its place, the waves soon found their way
through all that remained to oppose them, and were in a few minutes'
time forcing into the last retreat of those who had taken shelter in the
passage already mentioned.

"Every wave made a frightful encroachment on our narrow limits, and
seemed to threaten us with immediate death.  Hopeless as was the
condition of those thus hemmed in, yet not a shriek was heard from them.
One lady, unknown to the writer, begged earnestly for some one to save
her.  In a time of such alarm, it is not strange that a helpless female
should plead with earnestness for assistance from those who were about
her, or even offer them money for that aid which the least reflection
would have convinced her it was not possible to render.  Another scene,
witnessed at this trying hour, was still more painful.  A little boy was
pleading with his father to save him.  `Father,' said the boy, `you will
save me, won't you? you can swim ashore with me, can't you, father?'
But the unhappy father was too deeply absorbed in the other charges that
leant on him, even to notice the imploring accents of his helpless
child.  For at that time, as near as the writer can judge, from the
darkness of the place they were in, his wife hung upon one arm, and his
daughter of seventeen upon the other.  He had one daughter besides, near
the age of this little boy, but whether she was at that time living or
not, is uncertain.

"After remaining here some minutes, the deck overhead was split open by
the violence of the waves, which allowed the writer an opportunity of
climbing out.  This he instantly did, and assisted his wife through the
same opening.  As he had now left those below, he is unable to say how
they were finally lost; but, as that part of the boat was very soon
completely destroyed, their further sufferings could not have been much
prolonged.  We were now in a situation which, from the time the boat
struck, we had considered as the most safe, and had endeavoured to
attain.  Here we resolved to await our uncertain fate.  From this place
we could see the encroachment of the devouring waves, every one of which
reduced our thinned numbers, and swept with it parts of our crumbling
boat.  For several hours previously, the gale had been sensibly abating;
and, for a moment, the pale moon broke through the dispersing clouds, as
if to witness this scene of terror and destruction, and to show to the
horror-stricken victims the fate that awaited them.  How few were now
left, of the many who, but a little before, inhabited our bark!  While
the moon yet shone, three men were seen to rush from the middle to the
stern of the boat.  A wave came rushing on.  It passed over the deck.
One only, of the three, was left.  He attempted to gain his former
position.  Another wave came.  He had barely time to reach a large
timber, to which he clung, when this wave struck him, and he too was
missing.  As the wave passed away, the heads of two of these men were
seen above the water; but they appeared to make no effort to swim.  The
probability is, that the violence with which they were hurled into the
sea disabled them.  They sunk to rise no more.

"During this time, Mr Lovegreen, of Charleston, continued to ring the
boat's bell, which added if possible to the gloom.  It sounded, indeed,
like the funeral knell over the departed dead.  Never before, perhaps,
was a bell tolled at such a funeral as this.  While in this situation,
and reflecting on the necessity of being always prepared for the
realities of eternity, our attention was arrested by the appearance of a
lady, climbing upon the outside of the boat, abaft the wheel near where
we were.  Her head was barely above the deck on which we stood, and she
was holding to it, in a most perilous manner.  She implored help,
without which she must soon have fallen into the deep beneath, and
shared the fate of the many who had already gone.  The writer ran to her
aid, but was unable to raise her to the deck.  Mr Woodburn, of New
York, now came, and, with his assistance, the lady was rescued; she was
then lashed to a large piece of timber, by the side of another lady, the
only remaining place that afforded any prospect of safety.  The former
lady (Mrs Shroeder) was washed ashore on this piece of wreck, one of
the two who survived.  The writer having relinquished to this lady the
place he had occupied, was compelled to get upon a large piece of the
boat, that lay near, under the lee of the wheel; this was almost
immediately driven from its place into the breakers, which instantly
swept him from it, and plunged him deep into the water.  With some
difficulty he regained his raft.  He continued to cling to this
fragment, as well as he could, but was repeatedly washed from it.
Sometimes when plunged deep into the water, he came up under it.  After
encountering all the difficulties that seemed possible to be borne, he
was at length thrown on shore, in an exhausted state.  At the time the
writer was driven from the boat, there were but few left.  Of these,
four survived, _viz_.  Mrs Shroeder and Mr Lovegreen, of Charleston;
Mr Cohen, of Columbia; and Mr Vanderzee, of New York.

"On reaching the beach, there was no appearance of inhabitants; but
after wandering some distance, a light was discovered, which proved to
be from Ocracoke lighthouse, about six miles south-west of the place
where the boat was wrecked.  The inhabitants of the island, generally,
treated us with great kindness, and, so far as their circumstances,
would allow, assisted in properly disposing the numerous bodies thrown
upon the shore.

"The survivors, after remaining on the island till Thursday afternoon,
separated, some returning to New York, others proceeding on to
Charleston.  Acknowledgment is due to the inhabitants of Washington,
Newbern, and Wilmington, as well as of other places through which we
passed, for the kind hospitality we received, and the generous offers
made to us.  Long will these favours be gratefully remembered by the
survivors of the unfortunate Home."

Even if the captain of the Home was intoxicated, it is certain that the
loss of the vessel was not occasioned by that circumstance, but by the
vessel not having been built sea-worthy.

The narrative of the loss of the Moselle is the last which I shall give
to the reader.  It is written by Judge Hall, one of the best of the
American writers.

LOSS OF THE MOSELLE.

"The recent explosion of the steam-boat Moselle, at Cincinnati, affords
a most awful illustration of the danger of steam navigation, when
conducted by ignorant or careless men: and fully sustains the remark
made in the preceding pages, that, `the accidents are almost wholly
confined to insufficient or badly managed boats.'

"The Moselle was a new boat, intended to ply regularly between
Cincinnati and St Louis.  She had made but two or three trips, but had
already established a high reputation for speed; and, as is usual in
such cases, those by whom she was owned and commanded, became ambitious
to have her rated as a `crack boat,' and spared no pains to exalt her
character.  The newspapers noticed the _quick trips_ of the Moselle, and
passengers chose to embark in this boat in preference to others.  Her
captain was an enterprising young man, without much experience, bent
upon gaining for his boat, at all hazards, the distinction of being the
fastest upon the river, and not fully aware, perhaps, of the inevitable
danger which attended this rash experiment.

"On Wednesday the 25th of April, between four and five o'clock in the
afternoon, this shocking catastrophe occurred.  The boat was crowded
with passengers; and, as is usually the case on our western rivers, in
regard to vessels passing westerly, the largest proportion were
emigrants.  They were mostly deck passengers, many of whom were poor
Germans, ignorant of any language but their own, and the larger portion
consisted of families, comprising persons of all ages.  Although not a
large boat, there were eighty-five passengers in the cabin, which was a
much larger number than could be comfortably accommodated; the number of
deck passengers is not exactly known, but, as is estimated, at between
one hundred and twenty and one hundred and fifty; and the officers and
crew amounted to thirty, making in all about two hundred and sixty
souls.

"It was a pleasant afternoon, and the boat, with steam raised, delayed
at the wharf, to increase the number--already too great--of her
passengers, who continued to crowd in, singly or in companies, all
anxious to hurry onwards in the first boat, or eager to take passage in
the _fast-running_ Moselle.  They were of all conditions--the military
officer hastening to Florida to take command of his regiment--the
merchant bound to St Louis--the youth seeking a field on which to
commence the career of life--and the indigent emigrant with his wife and
children, already exhausted in purse and spirits, but still pushing
onward to the distant frontier.

"On leaving the wharf, the boat ran up the river about a mile, to take
in some families and freight, and having touched at the shore for that
purpose, for a few minutes, was about to lay her course down the river.
The spot at which she thus landed was at a suburb of the city, called
Fulton, and a number of persons had stopped to witness her departure,
several of whom remarked, from the peculiar sound of the steam, that it
had been raised to an unusual height.  The crowd thus attracted--the
high repute of the Moselle--and certain vague rumours which began to
circulate, that the captain had determined, at every risk, to beat
another boat which had just departed--all these circumstances gave an
unusual eclat to the departure of this ill-fated vessel.

"The landing completed, the bow of the boat was shoved from the shore,
when an explosion took place, by which the whole of the forepart of the
vessel was literally blown up.  The passengers were unhappily in the
most exposed positions on the deck, and particularly on the forward
part, sharing the excitement of the spectators on shore, and
anticipating the pleasure of darting rapidly past the city in the swift
Moselle.  The power of the explosion was unprecedented in the history of
steam; its effect was like that of a mine of gunpowder.  All the
boilers, four in number, were simultaneously burst; the deck was blown
into the air, and the human beings who crowded it hurried into instant
destruction.  Fragments of the boilers, and of human bodies, were thrown
both to the Kentucky and the Ohio shore; and as the boat lay near the
latter, some of these helpless victims must have been thrown a quarter
of a mile.  The body of Captain Perry, the master, was found dreadfully
mangled, on the nearest shore.  A man was hurled with such force, that
his head, with half his body, penetrated the roof of a house, distant
more than a hundred yards from the boat.  Of the number who had crowded
this beautiful boat a few minutes before, nearly all were hurled into
the air, or plunged into the water.  A few, in the after part of the
vessel, who were uninjured by the explosion, jumped overboard.  An
eye-witness says that he saw sixty or seventy in the water at one time,
of whom not a dozen reached the shore.

"The news or this awful catastrophe spread rapidly through the city,
thousands rushed to the spot, and the most benevolent aid was promptly
extended to the sufferers--to such, we should rather say, as were within
the reach of human assistance--for the majority had perished.

"The writer was among those who hastened to the neighbourhood of the
wreck, and witnessed a scene so sad that no language can depict it with
fidelity.  On the shore lay twenty or thirty mangled and still bleeding
corpses, while others were in the act of being dragged from the wreck or
the water.  There were men carrying away the wounded, and others
gathering the trunks, and articles of wearing apparel, that strewed the
beach.

"The survivors of this awful tragedy presented the most touching objects
of distress.  Death had torn asunder the most tender ties; but the
rupture had been so sudden and violent, that as yet none knew certainly
who had been taken, nor who had been spared.  Fathers were inquiring for
children, children for parents, husbands and wives for each other.  One
man had saved a son, but lost a wife and five children.  A father,
partially deranged, lay with a wounded child on one side, a dead
daughter on the other, and his wife, wounded, at his feet.  One
gentleman sought his wife and children, who were as eagerly seeking him
in the same crowd--they met, and were re-united.

"A female deck passenger, that had been saved, seemed inconsolable for
the loss of her relations.  To every question put to her, she would
exclaim, `Oh my father! my mother! my sisters!'  A little boy, about
four or five years of age, whose head was much bruised, appeared to be
regardless of his wounds, but cried continually for a lost father; while
another lad, a little older, was weeping for his whole family.

"One venerable looking man wept a wife and five children; another was
bereft of nine members of his family.  A touching display of maternal
affection was evinced by a lady who, on being brought to the shore,
clasped her hands and exclaimed, `Thank God, I am safe!' but instantly
recollecting herself, ejaculated in a voice of piercing agony, `where is
my child!'  The infant, which had been saved, was brought to her, and
she fainted at the sight of it.

"A public meeting was called in Cincinnati, at which the mayor presided,
when the facts of this melancholy occurrence were discussed, and among
other resolutions passed, was one deprecating `the great and increasing
carelessness in the navigation of steam vessels,' and urging this
subject upon the consideration of Congress.  No one denied that this sad
event, which had filled our city with consternation, sympathy, and
sorrow, was the result of a reckless and criminal inattention to their
duty, on the part of those having the care of the Moselle, nor did any
one attempt to palliate their conduct.  Committees were appointed to
seek out the sufferers, and perform the various duties which humanity
dictated.  Through the exertions of the gentlemen appointed on this
occasion, lists were obtained and published, showing the names of the
passengers as far as could be obtained, and giving the following
result:--"

+=============+===+
ÝKilled       Ý 81Ý
+-------------+---+
ÝBadly woundedÝ 18Ý
+-------------+---+
ÝMissing      Ý 55Ý
+-------------+---+
ÝSaved        Ý117Ý
+-------------+---+
Ý             Ý266Ý
+=============+===+

"As many strangers entered the boat but a few minutes before its
departure, whose names were not registered, it is probable that the
whole number of souls on board was not less than _two hundred and
eighty_.  Of the missing, many dead bodies have since been found, but
very few have been added to the list of _saved_.  The actual number of
lives lost, therefore, does not vary much from _one hundred and fifty_."

The following observations are made in the Report of the Committee,
relative to the tremendous force of the steam:

"Of the immense force exerted in this explosion, there is abundant
evidence: still in this extraordinary occurrence in the history of
steam, I deem it important to be particular in noting the facts, and for
that purpose I have made some measurements and calculations.  The boat
was one hundred and sixteen feet from the water's edge, one hundred and
ninety-two from the top of the bank, which was forty-three feet in
perpendicular height above the water.  The situations of projected
bodies ascertained were as follows: Part of the body of a man, thrown
nearly horizontally into a skiff at the water's edge, one hundred and
sixteen feet.  The body of the captain thrown nearly to the top of the
bank, two hundred feet.  The body of a man thrown through the roof of a
house, at the distance of one hundred and twelve feet, and fifty-nine
feet above the water's edge.  A portion of the boiler, containing about
sixty square feet, and weighing about four hundred and fifty pounds,
thrown one hundred and seventy feet, and about two-thirds of the way up
the bank.  A second portion of the boiler, of about thirty-five square
feet, and weighing about two hundred and forty-five pounds, thrown four
hundred and fifty feet on the hill side, and seventy feet in altitude.
A third portion of the boiler, twenty-one square feet, one hundred and
forty-seven pounds, thrown three hundred and thirty feet into a
tan-yard.  A fourth portion, of forty-eight square feet, and weighing
three hundred and thirty-six pounds, thrown four hundred and eighty feet
into the garret of a back shop of a tan-yard; having broken down the
roof and driven out the gable-end.  The last portion must have been
thrown to a very great height, as it had entered the roof of [sic] an
angle of at least sixty degrees.  A fifth portion, weighing two hundred
and thirty-six pounds, went obliquely up the river eight hundred feet,
and passing over the houses, landed on the side walk, the bricks of
which had been broken and driven deeply into the ground by it.  This
portion had encountered some individual in its course, as it came
stained with blood.  Such was the situation of the houses that it must
have fallen at an angle as high as forty-five degrees.  It has been
stated, that bodies of persons were projected quite across the river
into Kentucky.  I can find no evidence of the truth of this: on the
contrary, Mr Kerr informs me that he made inquiries of the people on
the opposite shore, and could not learn that anything was seen to fall
farther than half way across the river, which is at that place about
sixteen hundred feet wide."

I was at Cincinnati some time after the explosion, and examined the
wreck which still lay on the Ohio shore.  After the report was drawn up
it was discovered that the force of the explosion had been even greater
than was supposed, and that portions of the engine and boilers had been
thrown to a much greater distance.  It is to be remarked, that Mr
Woodbury's report to Congress states from one hundred to one hundred and
twenty persons as having been killed.  Judge Hall, in the report of the
committee, estimates it at one hundred and fifty; but there is reason to
believe that the loss on this occasion, as well as in many others, was
greater than even in the report of the committee.  The fact is, it is
almost impossible to state the loss on these occasions; the only data to
go upon are the books in which the passengers' names are taken down when
the fare is paid, and this is destroyed.  In a country like America,
there are thousands of people unknown to anybody, migrating here and
there, seeking the Far West to settle in; they come and go, and nobody
knows anything of them; there might have been one hundred more of them
on board the Moselle at the time that she exploded; and as I heard from
Captain Pearce, the harbour-master, and others, it is believed that such
was the case, and that many more were destroyed than was at first
supposed.

The American steam-boats are very different from ours in appearance, in
consequence of the engines being invariably on deck.  The decks also are
carried out many feet wider on each side than the hull of the vessel, to
give space; these additions to the deck aye called guards.  The engine
being on the first deck, there is a second deck for the passengers,
state-rooms, and saloons; and above this deck there is another, covered
with a white awning.  They have something the appearance of two-deckers,
and when filled with company, the variety of colours worn by the ladies
have a very novel and pleasing effect.  The boats which run from New
York to Boston, and up the Hudson river to Albany, are very splendid
vessels; they have low-pressure engines, are well commanded, and I never
heard of any accident of any importance taking place; their engines are
also very superior--one on board of the Narangassett, with a horizontal
stroke, was one of the finest I ever saw.  On the Mississippi, Ohio, and
their tributary rivers, the high-pressure engine is invariably used;
they have tried the low-pressure, but have found that it will not
answer, in consequence of the great quantity of mud contained in
solution on the waters of the Mississippi, which destroys all the valves
and leathers; and this is the principal cause of the many accidents
which take place.  At the same time it must be remembered, that there is
a recklessness--an indifference to life--shown throughout all America;
which is rather a singular feature, inasmuch as it extends East as well
as West.  It can only be accounted for by the insatiate pursuit of gain
among a people who consider that time is money, and who are blinded by
their eagerness in the race for it, added to that venturous spirit so
naturally imbibed in a new country, at the commencement of its
occupation.  It is communicated to the other sex, who appear equally
indifferent.  The Moselle had not been blown up two hours, before the
other steamboats were crowded with women, who followed their relations
on business or pleasure, up and down the river.  "Go a-head," is the
motto of the country; both sexes join in the cry; and they do go
a-head--that's a fact!

I was amused with a story told me by an American gentleman: a steamboat
caught fire on the Mississippi, and the passengers had to jump overboard
and save themselves by swimming.  One of those reckless characters, a
gambler, who, was on board, having apparently a very good idea of his
own merits, went aft, and before he leapt overboard, cried out, "Now,
gallows, claim your own!"

The attention of the American legislature has at length been directed to
the want of security in steam navigation; and in July, 1838, an act was
passed to provide for the better security of the passengers.  Many of
the clauses are judicious, especially as far as the inspecting of them
is regulated; but that of iron chains or rods for tiller ropes is not
practicable on a winding river, and will be the occasion of many
disasters.  Had they ordered the boats to be provided with iron chains
or rods, to be used as preventive wheel-ropes, it would have answered
the purpose.  In case of fire they could easily be hooked on; but to
steer with them in tide-ways and rapid turns is almost impossible.  The
last clause, No. 13, (page 170, Report) is too harsh, as a flue may
collapse at any time, without any want of care or skill on the part of
the builders or those on board.

It is to be hoped that some good effects will be produced by this act of
the legislature.  At present, it certainly is more dangerous to travel
one week in America than to cross the Atlantic a dozen times.  The
number of lives lost in one year by accidents in steam boats,
rail-roads, and coaches, was estimated, in a periodical which I read in
America, at _one thousand seven hundred and fifty_.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FOUR.

TRAVELLING.

To one who has been accustomed to the extortion of the inns and hotels
in England, and the old continent, nothing at first is more remarkable
than to find that there are more remains of the former American purity
of manners and primitive simplicity to be observed in their
establishments for the entertainment of man and horse, than in any
portion of public or private life.  Such is the case, and the causes of
the anomaly are to be explained.

I presume that the origin of hotels and inns has been much the same in
all countries.  At first the solitary traveller is received, welcomed,
and hospitably entertained; but, as the wayfarers multiply, what was at
first a pleasure becomes a tax.  For instance, let us take Western
Virginia, through which the first irruption to the Far West may be said
to have taken place.  At first every one was received and accommodated
by those who had settled there; but as this gradually became
inconvenient, not only from interfering with their domestic privacy, but
from their not being prepared to meet the wants of the travellers, the
inhabitants of any small settlement met together and agreed upon one of
them keeping the house of reception; this was not done with a view of
profit, the travellers being only charged the actual value of the
articles consumed.  Such is still the case in many places in the Far
West; a friend of mine told me that he put up at the house of a widow
woman; he supped, slept, had his breakfast, and his horse was also well
supplied.  When he was leaving, he inquired what he had to pay, the
woman replied--, "Well, if I don't charge something, I suppose you will
be affronted.  Give me a shilling;" a sum not sufficient to pay for the
horse's corn.

The American innkeeper, therefore, is still looked upon in the light of
your host; he and his wife sit at the head of the _table-d'hote_ at meal
times; when you arrive he greets you with a welcome, shaking your hand;
if you arrive in company with those who know him, you are introduced to
him; he is considered on a level with you; you meet him in the most
respectable companies, and it is but justice to say that, in most
instances, they are a very respectable portion of society.  Of course,
his authority, like that of the captains of the steam-boats, is
undisputed; indeed the captains of these boats may be partly considered
as classed under the same head.

This is one of the most pleasing features in American society, and I
think it is likely to last longer than most others in this land of
change, because it is upheld by public opinion, which is so despotic.
The mania for travelling, among the people of the United States, renders
it most important that every thing connected with locomotion should be
well arranged; society demands it, public opinion enforces it, and
therefore, with few exceptions, it is so.  The respect shown to the
master of a hotel induces people of the highest character to embark in
the profession; the continual streams of travellers which pours through
the country, gives sufficient support by moderate profits, to enable the
innkeeper to abstain from excessive charges; the price of every thing is
known by all, and no more is charged to the President of the United
States than to other people.  Every one knows his expenses; there is no
surcharge, and fees to waiters are voluntary, and never asked for.  At
first I used to examine the bill when presented, but latterly I looked
only at the sum total at the bottom and paid it at once, reserving the
examination of it for my leisure, and never in one instance found that I
had been imposed upon.  This is very remarkable, and shows the force of
public opinion in America; for it can produce, when required, a very
scarce article all over the world, and still more scarce in the
profession referred to, Honesty.  Of course there will be exceptions,
but they are very few, and chiefly confined to the cities.  I shall
refer to them afterwards, and at the same time to some peculiarities,
which I must not omit to point out, as they affect society.  Let me
first describe the interior arrangements of a first-rate American hotel.

The building is very spacious, as may be imagined when I state that in
the busy times, from one hundred and fifty to two, or even three
hundred, generally sit down at the dinner-table.  The upper stories
contain an immense number of bed-rooms, with their doors opening upon
long corridors, with little variety in their furniture and arrangement,
except that some are provided with large beds for married people, and
others with single beds.  The basement of the building contains the
dinner-room, of ample dimensions, to receive the guests, who at the
sound of a gong rush in, and in a few minutes have finished their
repast.  The same room is appropriated to breakfast and supper.  In most
hotels there is but one dining-room, to which ladies and gentlemen both
repair, but in the more considerable, there is a smaller dining-room for
the ladies and their connexions who escort them.  The ladies have also a
large parlour to retire to; the gentlemen have the reading-room,
containing some of the principal newspapers, and the _Bar_, of which
hereafter.  If a gentleman wants to give a dinner to a private party in
any of these large hotels, he can do it; or if a certain number of
families join together, they may also eat in a separate room (this is
frequently done at Washington;) but if a traveller wishes to seclude
himself _a l'Anglaise_, and dine in his own room, he must make up his
mind to fare very badly, and, moreover, if he is a foreigner, he will
give great offence, and be pointed out as an aristocrat--almost as
serious a charge with the majority in the United States, as it was in
France during the Revolution.

The largest hotels in the United States are Astor House, New York;
Tremont House, Boston; Mansion house, Philadelphia; the hotels at West
Point, and at Buffalo; but it is unnecessary to enumerate them all.  The
two pleasantest, are the one at West Point, which was kept by Mr
Cozens, and that belonging to Mr Head, the Mansion House at
Philadelphia; but the latter can scarcely be considered as a hotel, not
only because Mr Head is, and always was, a gentleman with whom it is a
pleasure to associate, but because he is very particular in whom he
receives, and only gentlemen are admitted.  It is more like a private
club than any thing else I can compare it to, and I passed some of my
pleasantest time in America at his establishment, and never bid farewell
to him or his sons, or the company, without regret.  There are some
hotels in New York upon the English system: the Globe is the best, and I
always frequented it; and there is an excellent French restaurateur's
(Delmonico's).

Of course, where the population and traffic are great, and the
travellers who pass through numerous, the hotels are large and good;
where, on the contrary, the road is less and less frequented, so do they
decrease in importance, size, and respectability, until you arrive at
the farm-house entertainment of Virginia and Kentucky; the grocery, or
mere grog-shop, or the log-house of the Far West.  The way-side inns are
remarkable for their uniformity; the furniture of the bar-room is
invariably the same: a wooden clock, map of the United States, map of
the State, the Declaration of Independence, a looking-glass, with a
hair-brush and comb hanging to it by strings, _pro bono publico_;
sometimes with the extra embellishment of one or two miserable pictures,
such as General Jackson scrambling upon a horse, with fire or steam
coming out of his nostrils, going to the battle of New Orleans,
etcetera, etcetera.

He who is of the silver-fork school, will not find much comfort out of
the American cities and large towns.  There are no neat, quiet little
inns, as in England.  It is all the "rough and tumble" system, and when
you stop at humble inns you must expect to eat peas with a two-pronged
fork, and to sit down to meals with people whose exterior is any thing
but agreeable, to attend upon yourself, and to sleep in a room in which
there are three or four other beds; (I have slept in one with nearly
twenty,) most of them carrying double, even if you do not have a
companion in your own.

A New York friend of mine travelling in an Extra with his family, told
me that at a western inn he had particularly requested that he might not
have a bed-fellow, and was promised that he should not.  On his
retiring, he found his bed already occupied, and he went down to the
landlady, and expostulated.  "Well," replied she, "it's only your own
_driver_; I thought you wouldn't mind him."

Another gentleman told me, that having arrived at a place called Snake's
Hollow, on the Mississippi, the bed was made on the kitchen-floor, and
the whole family and travellers, amounting in all to seventeen, of all
ages and both sexes, turned into the same bed altogether.  Of course
this must be expected in a new country, and is a source of amusement,
rather than of annoyance.

I must now enter into a very important question, which is that of eating
and drinking.  Mr Cooper, in his remarks upon his own countrymen, says,
very ill-naturedly--"The Americans are the grossest feeders of any
civilised nation known.  As a nation, their food is heavy, coarse, and
indigestible, while it is taken in the least artificial forms that
cookery will allow.  The predominance of grease in the American kitchen,
coupled with the habits of hearty eating, and of constant expectoration,
are the causes of the diseases of the stomach which are so common in
America."

This is not correct.  The cookery in the United States is exactly what
it is and must be every where else--in a ratio with the degree of
refinement of the population.  In the principal cities, you will meet
with as good cookery in private houses as you will in London, or even
Paris; indeed, considering the great difficulty which the Americans have
to contend with, from the almost impossibility of obtaining good
servants, I have often been surprised that it is so good as it is.  At
Delmonico's, and the Globe Hotel at New York, where you dine from the
Carte, you have excellent French cookery; so you have at Astor House,
particularly at private parties; and, generally speaking, the cooking at
all the large hotels may be said to be good; indeed, when it is
considered that the American table-d'hote has to provide for so many
people, it is quite surprising how well it is done.  The daily dinner,
at these large hotels, is infinitely superior to any I have ever sat
down to at the _public_ entertainments given at the Free-Masons' Tavern,
and others in London, and the company is usually more numerous.  The
bill of fare of the table-d'hote of the Astor House is _printed every
day_.  I have one with me which I shall here insert, to prove that the
eating is not so bad in America as described by Mr Cooper.

+=======================================+
ÝAstor House, Wednesday, March 21, 1838.Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝTable-d'Hote                           Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝVermicelli Soup                        Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝBoiled Cod Fish and Oysters            Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Corn'd Beef                        Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Ham                                Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Tongue                             Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Turkey and Oysters                 Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Chickens and Pork                  Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Leg of Mutton                      Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝOyster Pie                             Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝCuisse de Poulet Sauce Tomate          Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝPoitrine de Veau au Blanc              Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝBallon de Mouton au Tomate             Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝTete de Veau en Marinade               Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝSalade de Volaille                     Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝCasserolle de Pomme de Terre garnie    Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝCompote de Pigeon                      Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝRolleau de Veau a la Jardiniere        Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝCotelettes de Veau Saute               Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝFilet de Mouton Pique aux Ognons       Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝRonde de Boeuf                         Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝFricandeau de Veau aux Epinards        Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝCotelettes de Mouton Panee             Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝMacaroni au Parmesan                   Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝRoast Beef                             Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Pig                                Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Veal                               Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Leg of Mutton                      Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝRoast Goose                            Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Turkey                             Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝRoast Chickens                         Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Wild Ducks                         Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Wild Goose                         Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDo. Guinea Fowl                        Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝRoast Brandt                           Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝQueen Pudding                          Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝMince Pie                              Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝCream Puffs                            Ý
+---------------------------------------+
ÝDessert.                               Ý
+=======================================+

There are some trifling points relative to eating which I shall not
remark upon until I speak of society, as they will there be better
placed.  Of course, as you advance into the country, and population
recedes, you run through all the scale of cookery until you come to the
"_corn bread, and common doings_," (i.e. bread made of Indian meal, and
fat pork,) in the Far West.  In a new country, pork is more easily
raised than any other meat, and the Americans eat a great deal of pork,
which renders the cooking in the small taverns very greasy; with the
exception of the Virginian farm taverns, where they fry chickens without
grease in a way which would be admired by Ude himself; but this is a
State receipt, handed down from generation to generation, and called
_chicken fixings_.  The meat in America is equal to the best in England;
Miss Martineau does indeed say that she never ate good beef during the
whole time she was in this country; but she also says that an American
stage-coach is the most delightful of all conveyances, and a great many
other things, which I may hereafter quote, to prove the idiosyncracy of
the lady's disposition; so we will let that pass, with the observation
that there is no accounting for taste.  The American markets in the
cities are well supplied.  I have been in the game market, at New York,
and seen at one time nearly three hundred head of deer, with quantities
of bear, racoons, wild turkeys, geese, ducks, and every variety of bird
in countless profusion.  Bear I abominate; racoon is pretty good.  The
wild turkey is excellent; but the great delicacies in America are the
terrapin, and the canvas-back ducks.  To like the first I consider as
rather an acquired taste.  I decidedly prefer the turtle, which are to
be had in plenty, all the year round; but the canvas-back duck is
certainly well worthy of its reputation.  Fish is well supplied.  They
have the sheep's head, shad, and one or two others, which we have not.
Their salmon is not equal to ours, and they have no turbot.
Pine-apples, and almost all the tropical fruits, are hawked about in
carts in the Eastern cities; but I consider the fruit of the temperate
zone, such as grapes, peaches, etcetera, inferior to the English.
Oysters are very plentiful, very large, and, to an English palate,
rather insipid.  As the Americans assert that the English and French
oysters taste of copper, and that therefore they cannot eat them, I
presume they do; and that's the reason why we do not like the American
oysters, copper being better than no flavour at all.

I think, after this statement, that the English will agree with me that
there are plenty of good things for the table in America; but the old
proverb says, "God sends meat, and the devil sends cooks;" and such is,
and unfortunately must be, the case for a long while, in most of the
houses in America, owing to the difficulty of obtaining, or keeping
servants.  But I must quit the subject of eating, for one of much more
importance in America, which is that of drinking.

I always did consider that the English and the Swiss were the two
nations who most indulged in potations; but on my arrival in the United
States, I found that our descendants, in this point most assuredly, as
they fain would be thought to do in all others, surpassed us altogether.

Impartiality compels me to acknowledge the truth; we must, in this
instance, submit to a national defeat.  There are many causes for this:
first, the heat of the climate, next the coldness of the climate, then
the changeableness of the climate; add to these, the cheapness of liquor
in general, the early disfranchisement of the youth from all parental
control, the temptation arising from the bar and association, and,
lastly, the pleasantness, amenity, and variety of the potations.

Reasons, therefore, are as plentiful as blackberries, and habit becomes
second nature.

To run up the whole catalogue of the indigenous compounds in America,
from "iced water" to a "stone fence," or "streak of lightning," would
fill a volume; I shall first speak of foreign importations.

The Port in America is seldom good; the climate appears not to agree
with the wine.  The quantity of Champagne drunk is enormous, and would
absorb all the vintage of France, were it not that many hundred thousand
bottles are consumed more than are imported.

The small state of New Jersey has the credit of supplying the _American_
Champagne, which is said to be concocted out of turnip juice, mixed with
brandy and honey.  It is a pleasant and harmless drink, a very good
imitation, and may be purchased at six or seven dollars a dozen.  I do
not know what we shall do when America fills up, if the demand for
Champagne should increase in proportion to the population; we had better
drink all we can now.

Claret, and the other French wines, do very well in America, but where
the Americans beat us out of the field is in their Madeira, which
certainly is of a quality which we cannot procure in England.  This is
owing to the extreme heat and cold of the climate, which ripens this
wine; indeed, I may almost say, that I never tasted good Madeira, until
I arrived in the United States.  The price of wines, generally speaking,
is very high, considering what a trifling duty is paid, but the price of
good Madeira is surprising.  There are certain brands, which if exposed
to public auction, will be certain to fetch from twelve to twenty, and I
have been told even forty dollars a bottle.  I insert a list of the
wines at Astor House, to prove that there is no exaggeration in what I
have asserted.  Even in this list of a tavern, the reader will find that
the best Madeira is as high as twelve dollars a bottle, and the list is
curious from the variety which it offers.

But the Americans do not confine themselves to foreign wines or liquors;
they have every variety at home, in the shape of compounds, such as
mint-julep and its varieties; slings in all their varieties; cocktails,
but I really cannot remember, or if I could, it would occupy too much
time to mention the whole battle array against one's brains.  I must,
however, descant a little upon the mint-julep; as it is, with the
thermometer at 100 degrees, one of the most delightful and insinuating
potations that ever was invented, and may be drank with equal
satisfaction when the thermometer is as low as 70 degrees.  There are
many varieties, such as those composed of Claret, Madeira, etcetera; but
the ingredients of the real mint-julep are as follows.  I learnt how to
make them, and succeeded pretty well.  Put into a tumbler about a dozen
sprigs of the tender shoots of mint, upon them put a spoonful of white
sugar, and equal proportions of peach and common brandy, so as to fill
it up one third, or perhaps a little less.  Then take rasped or pounded
ice, and fill up the tumbler.  Epicures rub the lips of the tumbler with
a piece of fresh pine-apple, and the tumbler itself is very often
incrusted outside with stalactites of ice.  As the ice melts, you drink.
I once overheard two ladies talking in the next room to me, and one of
them said, "Well, we have a weakness for any one thing, it is for a
mint-julep--" a very amiable weakness, and proving her good sense and
good taste.  They are, in fact, like the American ladies, irresistible.

The Virginians claim the merit of having invented this superb compound,
but I must dispute it for my own country, although it has been forgotten
of late.  In the times of Charles the First and Second it must have been
known, for Milton expressly refers to it in his Comus:--

  "Behold the cordial julep--here
  Which flames and dances in its crystal bounds
  With spirits of _balm_ and _fragrant syrups_ mixed.
  Not that Nepenthes, which the wife of Thone
  In Egypt gave to Jove-born Helena
  Is of such power to stir up joy like this,
  To life so friendly, or so _cool to thirst_."

If that don't mean mint-julep, I don't know the English language.

The following lines, however, which I found in an American newspaper,
dates its origin very far back, even to the period when the heathen gods
were not at a discount as they are now.

ORIGIN OF MINT-JULEP.

  'Tis said that the gods, on Olympus of old,
  (And who, the bright legend profanes, with a doubt,)
  One night, 'mid their revels, by Bacchus were told
  That his last butt of nectar had somewhat run out!

  But determined to send round the goblet once more,
  They sued to the fairer immortals--for aid
  In composing a draught which, till drinking were o'er,
  Should cast every wine ever drank in the shade.

  Grave Cerce herself blithely yielded her corn,
  And the spirit that lives in each amber-hued grain,
  And which first had its birth from the dews of the morn,
  Was taught to steal out in bright dew drops again.

  Pomona, whose choicest of fruits on the board,
  Were scattered profusely in every one's reach,
  When called on a tribute to cull from the board,
  Expressed the mild juice of the delicate peach.

  The liquids were mingled while Venus looked on
  With glances so fraught with sweet-magical power,
  That the honey of Ilybla, e'en when they were gone,
  Has never been missed in the draught from that hour.

  Flora, then, from her bosom of fragrance shook,
  And with roseate fingers pressed down in the bowl,
  As dripping and fresh as it came from the brook,
  The herb whose aroma should flavour the whole.

  The draught was delicious, each god did exclaim,
  Though something yet wanting they all did bewail,
  But Julep the drink of immortals became,
  When Jove himself added a handful of hail.

I have mentioned the principal causes to which must be assigned the
propensity to drink, so universal in America.  This is an undeniable
fact, asserted by every other writer, acknowledged by the Americans
themselves in print, and proved by the labours of their Temperance
Societies.  It is not confined to the lower classes, but pervades the
whole mass: of course, where there is most refinement, there is less
intoxication, and in the Southern and Western States, it is that the
custom of drinking is most prevalent.

I have said that in the American hotels there is a parlour for the
ladies to retire to: there is not one for the gentlemen, who have only
the reading-room, where they stand and read the papers, which are laid
out on desks, or the bar.

The bar of an American hotel is generally a very large room on the
basement, fitted up very much like our gin palaces in London, not so
elegant in its decorations indeed, but on the same system.  A long
counter runs across it, behind which stand two or three bar-keepers to
wait upon the customers, and distribute the various potations,
compounded from the contents of several rows of bottles behind them.
Here the eye reposes on masses of pure crystal ice, large bunches of
mint, decanters of every sort of wine, every variety of spirits, lemons,
sugar, bitters, cigars and tobacco; it really makes one feel thirsty,
even the going into a bar.  [See Note 3.] Here you meet every body and
every body meets you.  Here the senator, the member of Congress, the
merchant, the store-keeper, travellers from the Far West, and every
other part of the country, who have come to purchase goods, all
congregate.

Most of them have a cigar in their mouth, some are transacting business,
others conversing, some sitting down together whispering confidentially.
Here you obtain all the news, all the scandal, all the politics, and
all the fun; it is this dangerous propinquity, which occasions so much
intemperance.  Mr Head has no bar at the Mansion-house in Philadelphia,
and the consequence is, that there is no drinking, except wine at
dinner; but in all the other hotels, it would appear as if they
purposely allowed the frequenters no room to retire to, so that they
must be driven to the bar, which is by far the most profitable part of
the concern.

The consequence of the bar being the place of general resort, is, that
there is an unceasing pouring out, and amalgamation of alcohol, and
other compounds, from morning to late at night.  To drink with a friend
when you meet him is good fellowship, to drink with a stranger is
politeness, and a proof of wishing to be better acquainted.

Mr A is standing at the bar, enter B.  "My dear B, how are
you?"--"Quite well, and you?"--"Well, what shall it be?"--"Well, I don't
care--a gin sling."--"Two gin slings, Bar-keeper."  Touch glasses, and
drink.  Mr A has hardly swallowed his gin sling, and replaced his
cigar, when, in comes Mr D.  "A, how are you?"--"Ah!  D, how goes it on
with you?"--"Well, I thankey--what shall we have?"--"Well, I don't care;
I say brandy cocktail."--"Give me another," both drink, and the shilling
is thrown down on the counter.

Then B comes up again.  "A, you must allow me to introduce my friend
C."--"Mr A"--shake hands--"Most happy to make the acquaintance.  I
trust I shall have the pleasure of drinking--something with you?"--"With
great pleasure, Mr A, I will take a julep."--"Two juleps,
Bar-keeper."--"Mr C, your good health"--"Mr A, yours; if you should
come our way, most happy to see you,"--drink.

Now, I will appeal to the Americans themselves, if this is not a fair
sample of a bar-room.

They say that the English cannot settle any thing properly, without a
dinner.  I am sure the Americans can fix nothing, without a drink.  If
you meet, you drink; if you part, you drink; if you make acquaintance,
you drink; if you close a bargain you drink; they quarrel in their
drink, and they make it up with a drink.  They drink, because it is hot;
they drink because it is cold.  If successful in elections, they drink
and rejoice; if not, they drink and swear; they begin to drink early in
the morning, they leave off late at night; they commence it early in
life, and they continue it, until they soon drop into the grave.  To use
their own expression, the way they drink, is "quite a caution" [See Note
4.] As for water, what the man said, when asked to belong to the
Temperance Society, appears to be the general opinion, "it's very good
for navigation."

So much has it become the habit to cement all friendship, and commence
acquaintance by drinking, that it is a cause of serious offence to
refuse, especially in a foreigner, as the Americans like to call the
English.  I was always willing to accommodate the Americans in this
particular, as far as I could; (there at least, they will do me
justice;) that at times I drank much more than I wished is certain, yet
still I gave most serious offence, especially in the West, because I
would not drink early in the morning, or before dinner, which is a
general custom in the States, although much more prevalent in the South
and West, where it is literally, "Stranger, will you drink or fight?"
This refusal on my part, or rather excusing myself from drinking with
all those who were introduced to me, was eventually the occasion of much
disturbance and of great animosity towards me--certainly, most
unreasonably, as I was introduced to at least twenty every forenoon; and
had I drunk with them all, I should have been in the same state as many
of them were--that is, not really sober for three or four weeks at a
time.

That the constitutions of the Americans must suffer from this habit is
certain; they do not, however, appear to suffer so much as we should.
They say that you may always know the grave of a Virginian; as from the
quantity of juleps he has drunk, mint invariably springs up where he has
been buried.  But the Virginians are not the greatest drinkers, by any
means.  I was once looking for an American, and asked a friend of his,
where I should find him.  "Why," replied he, pointing to an hotel
opposite, "that is his _licking place_, (a term borrowed from deer
resorting to lick the salt:) we will see if he is there."  He was not;
the bar-keeper said he had left about ten minutes.  "Well, then, you had
better remain here, he is certain to be back in ten more--if not
sooner."  The American judged his friend rightly; in five minutes he was
back again, and we had a drink together, of course.

I did not see it myself, but I was told that somewhere in Missouri, or
thereabouts, west of the Mississippi, all the bars have what they term a
_kicking-board_, it being the custom with the people who live there,
instead of touching glasses when they drink together, to kick sharply
with the side of the foot against the board, and that after this
ceremony you are sworn friends.  I have had it mentioned to me by more
than one person, therefore I presume it is the case.  What the origin of
it is I know not, unless it intends to imply, "I'm your's to the _last
kick_."

Before I finish this article on hotels, I may as well observe here that
there is a custom in the United States, which I consider very
demoralising to the women, which is that of taking up permanent
residence in large hotels.

There are several reasons for this: one is, that people marry so very
early that they cannot afford to take a house with the attendant
expenses, for in America it is cheaper to live in a large hotel than to
keep a house of your own; another is, the difficulty of obtaining
servants, and, perhaps, the unwillingness of the women to have the
fatigue and annoyance which is really occasioned by an establishment in
that country: added to which is the want of society, arising from their
husbands being from morning to night plodding at their various
avocations.  At some of the principal hotels you will find the
apartments of the lodgers so permanently taken, that the plate with
their name engraved on it is fixed on the door.  I could almost tell
whether a lady in America kept own establishment or lived at an hotel,
the difference of manners are so marked; and, what is worse, it is
chiefly the young married couples who are to be found there.  Miss
Martineau makes some very just comments upon this practice:--

"The uncertainty about domestic service is so great, and the economy of
boarding-house life so tempting to people who have not provided
themselves with house and furniture, that it is not to be wondered at
that many young married people use the accommodation provided.  But no
sensible husband, who could beforehand become acquainted with the
liabilities incurred, would willingly expose his domestic peace to the
fearful risk.  I saw enough when I saw the elegantly dressed ladies
repair to the windows of the common drawing-room, on their husbands'
departure to the counting-house after breakfast.

"I have been assured that there is no end to the difficulties in which
gentlemen have been involved, both as to their commercial and domestic
affairs, by the indiscretion of their thoughtless young wives, amidst
the idleness and levities of boarding-house life.  As for the gentlemen,
they are much to be pitied.  Public meals, a noisy house, confinement to
one or two private rooms, with the absence of all gratifications of
their own peculiar convenience and taste, are but a poor solace to the
man of business, after the toils and cares of the day.  When to these
are added the snares to which their wives are exposed, it may be
imagined that men of sense and refinement would rather bear with any
domestic inconvenience from the uncertainty and bad quality of help,
than give up housekeeping."

If such is the case in boarding-houses, what must it be in hotels, where
the male company is ever changing.  It is one constant life of scandal,
flirting, eating, drinking, and living in public; the sense of delicacy
is destroyed, and the women remind you of the flowers that have been
breathed upon till they have lost their perfume.

Miss M observes:--

"I can only say, that I unavoidably knew of more eases of lapse in
highly respectable families in one State than ever came to my knowledge
at home; and that they were got over with a disgrace far more temporary
and superficial than they could have been visited with in England."

If this observation is correct, it must, in my opinion, be considered as
referring to that portion of the sex who live in _hotels_, certainly not
to the mass, for reasons which I shall hereafter point out.

Indeed, what I have seen at some of the large hotels fully bears out her
assertion.  Miss M talks of young ladies being _taken_ to the piano in a
promiscuous company.  I have seen them go to the piano without being
taken there, sit down and sing with all the energy of peacocks, before
total strangers, and very often without accompaniment.  In the hotels,
the private apartments of the boarders seldom consist of more than a
large bed-room, and although company are admitted into it, still it is
natural that the major portion of the women's time should be passed down
below in the general receiving room.  In the evening, especially in the
large western cities, they have balls almost every night; indeed it is a
life of idleness and vacuity of outward pretence, but of no real good
feeling.

Scandal rages--every one is busy with watching her neighbour's affairs;
those who have boarded there longest take the lead, and every newcomer
or stranger is canvassed with the most severe scrutiny; their histories
are ascertained, and they are very often sent to Coventry, for little
better reason than the will of those who, as residents, lay down the
law.

Indeed, I never witnessed a more ridiculous compound of pretended
modesty, and real want of delicacy, than is to be found with this class
of sojourners on the highway.  Should any of their own sex arrive, of
whom some little scandal has been afloat, they are up in arms, and down
they plump in their rocking-chairs; and although the hotel may cover
nearly an acre of ground, so afraid are they of contamination, that they
declare they will not go down to dinner, or eat another meal in the
hotel, until the obnoxious parties "clear out."  The proprietors are
summoned, husbands are bullied, and, rather than indignant virtue should
starve in her rocking-chair, a committee is formed, and the libelled
parties, guilty or not guilty, are requested to leave the hotel.  As
soon as this purification is announced, virtue, appeased, recovers her
appetite, and they all eat drink, talk scandal, flirt, and sing without
invitation as before.

I have been severe upon this class of society in America, not only
because I consider that it deserves it, but because I wish to point out
that Miss Martineau's observations must be considered as referring to
it, and not to the general character of the American woman.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  The Americans are apt to boast that they have not to pay for
civility, as we do in England, by facing waiters, coachmen, etcetera.
In some respects this is true, but in the cities the custom has become
very prevalent.  A man who attends a large dinner-table, will of course
pay more attention to those who give him something, than to those who do
not; one gives him something, and another, if he wishes for attention
and civility, is obliged to do the same thing.  In some of the hotels at
New York, and in the principal cities, you not only must fee, but you
must fee much higher than you do in England, if you want to be
comfortable.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  If I am rightly informed; there are very unpleasant cutaneous
diseases to which the Americans are subject, from the continual use of
the same brush and comb, and from sleeping together, etcetera, but it is
a general custom.  At Philadelphia, a large ball was given, (called, I
think, the Fireman's Ball,) and at which about 1,500 people were
present, all the fashion of Philadelphia; yet even here there were six
combs, and six brushes, placed in a room with six looking-glasses for
the use of _all_ the gentlemen.  An American has come into my room in
New York, and _sans ceremonie_ taken up my hair-brush, and amused
himself with brushing his head.  They are certainly very unrefined in
the toilet as yet.  When I was travelling, on my arrival at a city I
opened my dressing case, and a man passing by my room when the door was
open, attracted by the glitter, I presume, came in and looked at the
apparatus which is usually contained in such articles--"Pray, Sir," said
he, "are you a _dentist_?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 3.  Every steam-boat has its bar.  The theatres, all places of
public amusement, and even the capitol itself; as I have observed in my
Diary.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 4.  It was not a bad idea of a man who, generally speaking, was
very low-spirited, on being asked the cause, replied, that he did not
know, but he thought "that he had been born with _three drinks too
little_ in him."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 5.  In a chapter which follows this, I have said that the women of
America are physically superior to the men.  This may appear
contradictory, as of course they could not be born so; nor are they, for
I have often remarked how very fine the American male children are,
especially those lads who have grown up to the age of fourteen or
sixteen.  One could hardly believe it possible that the men are the same
youths, advanced in life.  How is this to be accounted for?  I can only
suppose that it is from their plunging too early into life as men,
having thrown off parental control, and commencing the usual excesses of
young men in every country at too tender an age.  The constant stimulus
of drink must, of course, be another powerful cause; not that the
Americans often become intoxicated, on the contrary, you will see many
more in this condition every day in this country than you will in
America.  But occasional intoxication is not so injurious to the
constitution as that continual application of spirits, which must
enfeeble the stomach, and, with the assistance of tobacco, destroy its
energies.  The Americans are a _drinking_ but not a _drunken_, nation,
and, as I have before observed, the climate operates upon them very
powerfully.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER FIVE.

EMIGRATION AND MIGRATION.

In this chapter I shall confine myself to the emigration to the United
States, reserving that to Canada until I remark upon that colony.  In
discussing this question I have no statistics to refer to, and must,
therefore, confine myself to general observations.

What the amount of emigration from the Old Continent to the United
States may be at present I do not think the Americans themselves can
tell, as many who arrive at New York go on to the Canadas.  The
emigrants are, however, principally English, Irish, and German;
latterly, the emigration to New South Wales, New Zealand, and
particularly Texas, has reduced the influx of emigrants to the United
States.

It ought to be pointed out, that among the emigrants are to be found the
portion of the people in the United States the most disaffected and the
most violent against England and its monarchical institutions; and who
assist very much to keep up the feelings of dislike and ill-will which
exist towards us.  Nor is this to be wondered at; the happy and the
wealthy do not go into exile; they are mostly disappointed and unhappy
men, who attribute their misfortunes, often occasioned by their own
imprudence, to any cause but the true one, and hate their own country
and its institutions because they have been unfortunate in it.  They
form Utopian ideas of liberty and prosperity to be obtained by
emigration; they discover that they have been deceived, and would
willingly, if possible, return to the country they have abjured, and the
friends they have left behind.  This produces an increase of irritation
and ill-will, and they become the more violent vituperative in
proportion as they feel the change.  [See Note 1.]

I have had many conversations with English emigrants in the United
States, and I never yet found one at all respectable, who did not
confess to me that he repented of emigration.  One great cause of this
is honourable to them; they feel that in common plain-dealing they are
no match for the keen-witted, and I must add unprincipled, portion of
the population with which they are thrown in contact.  They must either
sacrifice their principle or not succeed.

Many have used the same expression to me.  "It is no use, sir, you must
either turn regular Yankee and do as they do, or you have no chance of
getting on in this country."

These people are much to be pitied; I used to listen to them with
feelings of deep compassion.  Having torn themselves away from old
associations, and broken the links which should have bound them to their
native soil, with the expectation of finding liberty, equality, and
competence in a new country, they have discovered when too late that
they have not a fraction of the liberty which is enjoyed in the country
which they have left; that they have severed themselves from their
friends to live amongst those with whom they do not like to associate;
that they must now labour with their own hands, instead of employing
others; and that the competence they expected, if it is to be obtained,
must be so by a sacrifice of those principles of honesty and
fair-dealing imbibed in their youth, adhered to in their manhood, but
which now that they have transplanted themselves, are gradually,
although unwillingly, yielded up to the circumstances of their position.

I was once conversing with an Irishman; he was not very well pleased
with his change; I laughed at him, and said, "But here you are free,
Paddy."--"Free?" replied he, "and pray who the devil was to buy or sell
me when I was in Ireland?  Free! och! that's all talk; you're free to
work as hard as a horse, and get but little for so doing."

The German emigrants are by far the most contented and well-behaved.
They trouble themselves less about politics, associate with one another
as much as possible, and when they take a farm, always, if they possibly
can, get it in the neighbourhood of their own countrymen.

The emigrants most troublesome, but, at the same time, the most valuable
to the United States, are the Irish.  Without this class of people the
Americans would not have been able to complete the canals and
rail-roads, and many other important works.  They are, in fact, the
principal labourers of the country, for the poor Germans who come out
prefer being employed in any other way than in agriculture, until they
amass sufficient to obtain farms of their own.  As for the Irish, there
are not many of them who possess land in the United States, the major
portion of them remain labourers, and die very little better off than
when they went out.  Some of them set up groceries (these are the most
calculating and intelligent,)--and by allowing their countrymen to run
in debt for liquor, etcetera, they obtain control over them, and make
contracts with the government agents, or other speculators (very
advantageous to themselves,) to supply so many men for public works; by
these means a few acquire a great deal of money, while the many remain
in comparative indigence.

We have been accustomed to ascribe the turbulence of the Irish lower
classes to ill-treatment and a sense of their wrongs, but this
disposition appears to follow them every where.  It would be supposed
that, having emigrated to America and obtained the rights of citizens,
they would have amalgamated and fraternised to a certain degree with the
people: but such is not the case; they hold themselves completely apart
and distinct, living with their families in the same quarter of the
city, and adhering to their own manners and customs.  They are just as
little pleased with the institutions of the United States as they are
with the government at home; the fact is, that they would prefer no
government at all, if (as Paddy himself would say) they knew where to
find it.  They are the leaders in all the political rows and commotions,
and very powerful as a party in all elections, not only on account of
their numbers (if I recollect rightly, they muster 40,000 at New York,)
but by their violence preventing other people from coming to the poll;
and, farther, by multiplying themselves, so as greatly to increase their
force, by voting several times over, which they do by going from one
ward to another.  I was told by one of them that, on the last election
he had voted _seven_ times.  [See Note 2.]

An American once said to me that the lower Irish ruled the United
States, and he attempted to prove his assertion as follows:

The New York election is carried by the Irish; now the New York election
has great influence upon the other elections, and often carries the
State.  The State of New York has great influence upon the elections of
other States, and therefore the Irish of New York govern the country.--
QED.

The Irish, in one point, appear to improve in the United States--they
become much more provident, and many of them hoard their money.  They
put it into the Savings Banks, and when they have put in the sum allowed
by law to one person, they deposite in other names.

A captain of one of the steam-boats told me an anecdote or two relative
to the Irish emigrants, by which it would appear that they are more
saving of their money than is quite consistent with honesty.

He constantly received them on board, and said that sometimes, if they
were very few, they would declare at the end of the trip that they had
no money, although when detained they never failed to produce it; if
they were very numerous they would attempt to fight their way without
paying.  In one instance, an Irishman declared that he had no money,
when the captain, to punish him, seized his old jacket, and insisted
upon retaining it for payment.  The Irishman suffered it to be taken
off, expecting, it is to be presumed, that it would be returned to him
as valueless, when the captain jerked it overboard.  "Oh! murder!--
captain, drop the boat," cried Paddy; "pick my jacket up, or I'm a
ruined man.  _All_ my _money's_ in it."  The jacket was fortunately
picked up before it sank, and, on ripping it up, it was found to
contain, sewed up in it, upwards of fifty sovereigns and gold eagles.
The same captain narrated to me the particulars of one instance in which
about one hundred Irish were on board, who when asked for payment,
commenced an attack upon the captain and crew with their bludgeons; but,
having before experienced such attempts, he was prepared for them, and
receiving assistance from the shore, the Irishmen were worsted, and then
every man paid his fare.  The truth is that they are very turbulent, and
the lower orders of the Americans are very much enraged against them.
On the 4th of July there were several bodies of Americans, who were out
on the look-out for the Irish, after dark, and many of the latter were
severely beaten, if not murdered; the Irish, however, have to thank
themselves for it.

The spirit of the institutions of the States is so opposed to servitude,
that it is chiefly from the emigrants that the Americans obtain their
supply of domestics; the men servants in the private houses may be said
to be, with few exceptions, either emigrants or free people of colour.
Amongst other points upon which the Americans are to be pitied, and for
which the most perfect of theoretical governments could never
compensate, is the misery and annoyance to which they are exposed from
their domestics.  They are absolutely slaves to them, especially in the
western free States; there are no regulations to control them.  At any
fancied affront they leave the house without a moment's warning, putting
on their hats or bonnets, and walking out of the street-door, leaving
their masters and mistresses to get on how they can.  I remember when I
was staying with a gentleman in the west, that, on the first day of my
arrival, he apologised to me for not having a man servant, the fellow
having then been drunk for a week; a woman had been hired to help for a
portion of the day, but most of the labour fell upon his wife, whom I
found one morning cleaning my room.  The fellow remained ten days drunk,
and then (all his money being spent) sent to his master to say that he
would come back on condition that he would give him a little more
liquor.  To this proposition the gentleman was compelled to assent, and
the man returned as if he had conferred a favour.  The next day, at
dinner, there being no porter up, the lady said to her husband, "Don't
send for it, but go _yourself_, my dear; he is so very cross again that
I fear he will leave the house."  A lady of my acquaintance in New York
told her coachman that she should give him warning; the reply from the
box was--"I reckon I have been too long in the woods to be scared with
an owl."  Had she noticed this insolence, he would probably have got
down from the box, and have left her to drive her own cattle.  The
coloured servants are, generally speaking, the most civil; after them
the Germans; the Irish and English are very bad.  At the hotels,
etcetera, you very often find Americans in subordinate situations, and
it is remarkable that when they are so, they are much more civil than
the imported servants.  Few of the American servants, even in the large
cities, understand their business, but it must be remembered that few of
them have ever learnt it, and, moreover, they are expected to do three
times as much as a servant would do in an English house.  The American
houses are much too large for the number of servants employed, which is
another cause for service being so much disliked.

It is singular that I have not found in any one book, written by
English, French, or German travellers, any remarks made upon a custom
which the Americans have of almost entirely living, I may say, in the
basement of their houses; and which is occasioned by their difficulties
in housekeeping with their insufficient domestic establishments.  I say
custom of the Americans, as it is the case in nine houses out of ten;
only the more wealthy travelled, and refined portion of the community in
their cities deviating from the general practice.

I have before observed that, from the wish of display, the American
houses are generally speaking, too large for the proprietors and for the
domestics which are employed.  Vying with each other in appearance,
their receiving rooms are splendidly furnished, but they do not live in
them.

The basement in the front area, which with us is usually appropriated to
the housekeeper's-room and offices, is in most of their houses fitted up
as a dining-room; by no means a bad plan, as it is cool in summer, warm
in winter, and saves much trouble to the servants.  The dinner is served
up in it, direct from the kitchen, with which it communicates.  The
master of the house, unless he dines late, which is seldom the case in
American cities, does not often come home to dinner, and the
preparations for the family are of course not very troublesome.  But
although they go on very well in their daily routine, to give a dinner
is to the majority of the Americans really an effort, not from the
disinclination to give one, but from the indifference and ignorance of
the servants; and they may be excused without being taxed with want of
hospitality.  It is a very common custom, therefore, for the Americans
to invite you to come and "_take wine_" with them, that is to come after
dinner, when you will find cakes, ices, wine, and company, already
prepared.  But there is something unpleasant in this arrangement; it is
too much like the bar of the tavern in the west, with--"Stranger, will
you drink?"  It must, however, be recollected that there are many
exceptions to what I have above stated as the general practice.  There
are houses in the principal cities of the States where you will sit down
to as well-arranged and elegant a dinner as you will find in the best
circles of London and Paris; but the proprietors are men of wealth, who
have in all probability been on the old continent, and have imbibed a
taste for luxury and refinement generally unknown and unfelt in the new
hemisphere.

I once had an instance of what has been repeatedly observed by other
travellers of the dislike to be considered as servants in this land of
equality.

I was on board of a steam-boat from Detroit to Buffalo, and entered into
conversation with a young woman who was leaning over the taffrail.  She
had been in service, and was returning home.

"You say you lived with Mr W.?"

"No, I didn't," replied she, rather tartly; "I said I lived with _Mrs_.
W."

"Oh, I understand.  In what situation did you live?"

"I lived in the house."

"Of course you did, but what as?"

"What as?  As a _gal_ should live."

"I mean what did you do?"

"I helped Mrs W."

"And now you are tired of helping others?"

"Guess I am."

"Who is your father?"

"He's a doctor."

"A doctor! and he allows you to go out?"

"He said I might please myself."

"Will he be pleased at your coming home again?"

"I went out to please myself, and I come home to please myself.  Cost
him nothing for four months; that's more than all gals can say."

"And now you're going home to spend your money?"

"Don't want to go home for that, it's all gone."

I have been much amused with the awkwardness and nonchalant manners of
the servants in America.  Two American ladies who had just returned from
Europe, told me that shortly after their arrival at Boston, a young man
had been sent to them from Vermont to do the duty of footman.  He had
been a day or two in the house, when they rang the bell and ordered him
to bring up two glasses of lemonade.  He made his appearance with the
lemonade, which had been prepared and given to him on a tray by a female
servant, but the ladies, who were sitting one at each end of a sofa and
conversing, not being ready for it just then, said to him--"We'll take
it presently, John."--"Guess I can wait," replied the man, deliberately
taking his seat on the sofa between them, and placing the tray on his
knees.

When I was at Tremont House, I was very intimate with a family who were
staying there.  One morning we had been pasting something, and the bell
was rung by one of the daughters, a very fair girl with flaxen hair, who
wanted some water to wash her hands.  An Irish waiter answered the bell.
"Did you ring, ma'am?"--"Yes, Peter, I want a little warm water."--"Is
it to _shave with_, miss?" inquired Paddy, very gravely.

But the emigration from the old continent is of little importance
compared to the migration which takes place in the country itself.

As I have before observed, all America is working west.  In the north,
the emigration by the lakes is calculated at 100,000 per annum, of which
about 30,000, are foreigners; the others are the natives of New England
and the other eastern States, who are exchanging from a sterile soil to
one "flowing with milk and honey."  But those who migrate are not all of
them agriculturalists; the western States are supplied from the
north-eastern with their merchants, doctors, schoolmasters, lawyers,
and, I may add, with their members of congress, senators, and governors.
New England is a _school_, a sort of manufactory of various
professions, fitted for all purposes--a talent bazaar, where you have
every thing at choice; in fact, what Mr Tocqueville says is very true,
and the States fully deserve the compliment.

"The civilisation of New England has been like a beacon lit upon a hill,
which, after it has diffused its warmth around, tinges the distant
horizon with its glory."

From the great extent of this emigration to the west, it is said that
the female population in the New England states is greater than the
male.  In the last returns of Massachusetts the total population was
given, but males and females were not given separately, an omission
which induces one to believe that such was the truth.  [See note 3.]

But it is not only from the above States that the migration takes place;
the fondness for "shifting right away," the eagerness for speculation,
and the by no means exaggerated reports of the richness of the western
country, induce many who are really well settled in the States of New
York, Pennsylvania, and other fertile States, to sell all and turn to
the west.  The State of Ohio alone is supposed to have added many more
than a million to her population since the last census.  An extensive
migration of white population takes place from North and South Carolina
and the adjacent States, while from the eastern Slave States, there is
one continual stream of black population pouring in, frequently the
cavalcade headed by the masters of their families.

As the numerous tributary streams pour their waters into the
Mississippi, so do rivers of men from every direction continually and
unceasingly flow into the west.  It is indeed the promised land, and
that the whites should have been detained in the eastern States so long
without a knowledge of the fertile soil beyond the Alleghanines, reminds
you of the tarrying of the Jewish nation in the wilderness before they
were permitted to take possession of their inheritance.

Here there is matter for deep reflection.  I have already given my
opinion upon the chances of the separation of the northern and Southern
States upon the question of slavery; but it appears to me, that while
the eyes of their legislators have been directed with so much interest
to the prospects arising from the above question, that their backs have
been turned to a danger much more imminent, and which may be attended by
no less consequences than a convulsion of the whole Union.

The Southern and Northern States may separate on the question of
slavery, and yet be in reality better friends than they were before: but
what will be the consequence, when the Western States become, as they
assuredly will, so populous and powerful, as to control the Union; for
not only population, but power and wealth, are fast working their way to
the west.  New Orleans will be the first maritime port in the universe,
and Cincinnati will not only be the Queen of the West, but Queen of the
Western World.  Then will come the real clashing of interests, and the
Eastern States must be content to succumb and resign their present
power, or the Western will throw them off, as an useless appendage to
her might.  This may at present appear chimerical to some, and would be
considered by many others as too far distant; but be it remembered, that
ten years in America, is as a century; and even allowing the prosperity
of the United States to be checked, as very probably it may soon be, by
any quarrel with a foreign nation, the Western States will not be those
who will suffer.  Far removed from strife, the population hardly
interfered with, when the Eastern resources are draining, they will
continue to advance in population, and to increase in wealth.  I refer
not to the Slave States bordering on the Mississippi, although I
consider that they would suffer little from a war, as neither England,
nor any other nation, will ever be so unwise in future as to attack in a
quarter, where she would have extended the olive branch, even if it were
not immediately accepted.  Whether America is engaged in war, therefore,
or remains in peace, the Western States must, and will soon be the
arbiters, and dictate as they please to the Eastern.

At present, they may be considered as infants, not yet of age, and the
Eastern States are their guardians; the profits of their produce are
divided between them and the merchants of the Eastern cities, who
receive at least thirty per cent. as their share.  This must be the case
at present, when the advances of the Eastern capitalists are required by
the cotton growers, who are precisely in the same position with the
Eastern States, as the West India planters used to be with the merchants
of London and Liverpool, to whom they consigned their cargoes for
advances received.  But the Western States (to follow up the metaphor)
will soon be of age, and no longer under control: even last year,
vessels were freighted direct from England to Vicksburg, on the
Mississippi; in a few years, there will be large importing houses in the
Far West, who will have their goods direct from England at one half the
price which they now pay for them, when forwarded from New York, by
canal, and other conveyances.  [See Note 4.] Indeed, a very little
inquiry will prove, that the prosperity of the Eastern free States
depends in a great measure upon the Western and Southern.  The Eastern
States are the receivers and transporters of goods, and the carriers of
most of the produce of the Union.  They advance money on the crops, and
charge high interest, commissions, etcetera.  The transport and
travelling between the Eastern, Southern, and Western States, are one
great source of this prosperity, from the employment on the canals, rail
roads, and steam boats.

All these are heavy charges to the Western States, and can be avoided by
shipping direct from, and sending their produce direct to, the Old
Continent.  As the Western States advance in wealth, so will they
advance in power, and in proportion as they so do, will the Eastern
States recede, until they will be left in a small minority, and will
eventually have little voice in the Union.

Here, then, is a risk of convulsion; for the clashing of interests, next
to a war, is the greatest danger to which a democracy can be exposed.
In a democracy, every one legislates, and every one legislates for his
own interests.  The Eastern States will still be wealthy and formidable,
from their population; but the commerce of the principal Eastern cities
will decrease, and they will have little or no staple produce to return
to England, or elsewhere, whereas the Western States can produce every
thing that the heart of man can desire, and can be wholly independent of
them.  They have, in the West, every variety of coal and mineral, to a
boundless extent; a rich alluvial soil, hardly to be exhausted by bad
cultivation, and wonderful facilities of transport; independent of the
staple produce of cotton, they might supply the whole world with grain;
sugar they already cultivate; the olive flourishes; wine is already
produced on the banks of the Ohio, and the prospect of raising silk is
beyond calculation.  In a few days, the manufactures of the Old World
can find their way from the mouth of the Mississippi by its thousand
tributary streams, which run like veins through every portion of the
country, to the confines of Arkansas and Missouri, to the head of
navigation at St Peter's, on again to Wisconsin, Michigan, and to the
Northern lakes, at a _much cheaper rate_ than they are supplied at
present.

One really is lost in admiration when one surveys this great and
glorious Western country, and contemplates the splendour and riches to
which it must ultimately arrive.

As soon as the Eastern States are no longer permitted to remain the
factors of the Western, they must be content to become manufacturing
states, and probably will compete with England.  The Western States,
providentially, I may say, are not likely to be manufacturers to any
great extent, since they have not _water_ powers; the valley of the
Mississippi is an alluvial flat, and although the Missouri and
Mississippi are swift streams, in general the rivers are sluggish, and,
at all events, they have not the precipitate falls of water necessary
for machinery, and which abound in the North-eastern States; indeed, if
the Western States were to attempt to manufacture, as well as to
produce, they would spoil the market for their own produce.  Whatever
may be the result, whether the Eastern States submit quietly to be shorn
of their greatness, (a change which must take place,) or to contest the
point until it ends in a separation, this is certain, that the focus of
American wealth and power will eventually be firmly established in the
Free States on the other side of the Alleghany mountains.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  I was once conversing with one who was formerly very popular
with the democrats, but who was likely to be outset by another
demagogue, who "went the whole hog," down to the Agrarian system.
"Captain," said he, with his fist clenched, "I'm the very
personification of democracy, but I'm out-Heroded by this fellow.  The
emigrants are a pack of visionaries, who don't know what they want.  The
born Americans I can deal with, but with these newcomers democracy is
not sufficient; they want a mobocracy, and I suppose we must have
it."--"You have it now," replied I.--"Well, captain, I believe you're
right."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  I don't know why, but there is no scrutiny of the votes in
American elections, or if there be, I never heard of one being made.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 3.  "The young men of New England migrate in large numbers to the
west, leaving an over proportion of female population, the amount of
which I never could learn.  Statements were made to me, but so
incredible that I withhold them.  Suffice it, that there were more women
than men in from six to nine States in the Union."--Miss Martineau.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 4.  To give the reader some idea of the price of European articles
in the Western country, I will mention cloth.  A coat which costs 4
pounds in England, is charged 7 pounds 10 shillings at New York; and at
Cincinnati, in the West, upwards of 10 pounds.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SIX.

NEWSPAPER PRESS.

Mr Tocqueville observes, "that not a single individual of the twelve
millions who inhabit the territory of the United States has as yet dared
to propose any restrictions upon the liberty of the press."  This is
true, and all the respectable Americans acknowledge that this liberty
has degenerated into a licentiousness which threatens the most alarming
results; as it has assumed a power, which awes not only individuals, but
the government itself.  A due liberty allowed to the press, may force a
government to do right, but a licentiousness may compel it into error.
The American author, Mr Cooper, very justly remarks: "It may be taken
as a rule, that _without_ the liberty of the press there can be no
_popular liberty_ in a nation, and without its licentiousness, neither
_public honesty, justice_, or a proper regard for _character_.  Of the
two, perhaps, that people is the happiest which is deprived altogether
of a free press, as private honesty and a healthful tone of the public
mind are not incompatible with narrow institutions, though neither can
exist under the corrupting action of a licentiousness press."

And again--"As the press of this country now exists, it would seem to be
expressly devised by the great agent of mischief, to depress and destroy
all that is good, and to elevate and advance all that is evil in the
nation.  The little truth which is urged, is usually urged coarsely,
weakened and rendered vicious by personalities, while those who live by
falsehoods, fallacies, enmities, partialities, and the schemes of the
designing, find the press the very instrument that devils would invent
to effect their designs."

A witty, but unprincipled statesman of our own times, has said, that
"speech was bestowed on man to conceal his thoughts;" judging from its
present condition, he might have added--"the press, in America, to
_pervert truth_."

But were I to quote the volumes of authority from American and English
writers, they would tire the reader.  The above are for the present
quite sufficient to establish the fact, that the press in the United
States is licentious to the highest possible degree, and defies control;
my object is to point out the effect of this despotism upon society, and
to show how injurious it is in every way to the cause of morality and
virtue.

Of course, the newspaper press is the most mischievous, in consequence
of its daily circulation, the violence of political animosity, and the
want of respectability in a large proportion of the editors.  The number
of papers published and circulated in Great Britain, among a population
of twenty-six millions, is calculated at about three hundred and
seventy.  The number published in the United States, among thirteen
millions, are supposed to vary between _nine and ten thousand_.  Now the
value of newspapers may be fairly calculated by the capital expended
upon them; and not only is not one-quarter of the sum expended in
England, upon three hundred and seventy newspapers, expended upon the
nine or ten thousand in America; but I really believe that the expense
of the `_Times_' newspaper alone, is equal to at least five _thousand_
of the _minor_ papers in the United States, which are edited by people
of no literary pretension, and at an expense so trifling as would appear
to us not only ridiculous, but impossible.  As to the capabilities of
the majority of the editors, let the Americans speak for themselves.

"Every wretch who can write an English paragraph (and many who cannot,)
every pettifogger without practice, every one whose poverty or crimes
have just left him cash or credit enough to procure a press and types,
sets up a newspaper."

Again--"If you be puzzled what to do with your son, if he be a born
dunce, if reading and writing be all the accomplishments he can acquire,
if he be horribly ignorant and depraved, if he be indolent and an
incorrigible liar, lost to all shame and decency, and incurably
dishonest, make a newspaper editor of him.  Look around you, and see a
thousand successful proofs that no excellence or acquirement, moral or
intellectual, is requisite to conduct a press.  The more defective an
editor is, the better he succeeds.  We could give a thousand
instances."--_Boston News_.

These are the assertions of the Americans, not my own; that in many
instances they are true, I have no doubt.  In a country so chequered as
the United States, such must be expected; but I can also assert, that
there are many very highly respectable and clever editors in the United
States.  The New York papers are most of them very well conducted, and
very well written.  The New York Courier and Enquirer, Colonel Webb; the
Evening Star, by Noah; the Albion, by Doctor Birtlett; Spirit of the
Times, and many others, which are too numerous to quote, are equal to
many of the English newspapers.  The best written paper in the States,
and the happiest in its sarcasm and wit, is the Louisville Gazette,
conducted by Mr Prentice of Kentucky; indeed, the western papers, are,
generally speaking, more amusing and witty than the eastern; the New
Orleans Picayune, by Kendall, is perhaps, after Prentice's, the most
amusing; but there are many more, which are too numerous to mention,
which do great credit to American talent.  Still the majority are
disgraceful not only from their vulgarity, but from their odious
personalities and disregard to truth.  The bombast and ignorance shown
in some of these is very amusing.  Here is an extract or two from the
small newspapers published in the less populous countries.  An editor
down East, speaking of his own merits, thus concludes--"I'm a real
catastrophe--a small creation; Mount Vesuvius at the top, with red hot
lava pouring out of the crater, and routing nations--my fists are rocky
mountains--arms, whig liberty poles, with iron springs.  Every step I
take is an earthquake--every blow I strike is a clap of thunder--and
every breath I breathe is a tornado.  My disposition is Dupont's best,
and goes off at a flash--when I blast there'll be nothing left but a
hole three feet in circumference and no end to its depth."

Another writes the account of a storm as follows:--

"On Monday afternoon, while the haymakers were all out gathering in the
hay, in anticipation of a shower from the small cloud that was seen
hanging over the hilly regions towards the south-east, a tremendous
storm suddenly burst upon them, and forced them to seek shelter from its
violence.  The wind whistled outrageously through the old elms,
scattering the beautiful foliage, and then going down into the meadow,
where the men had just abruptly left their work unfinished, and
overturning the half-made ricks, whisked them into the air, and filled
the _whole afternoon_ full of hay."

I copied the following from a western paper:--

"Yes, my countrymen, a dawn begins to open upon us; the crepusculous
rays of returning republicanism are fast extending over the darkness of
our political horizon, and before their brightness, those myrmidons
shall slink away to the abode of the demons who have generated them, in
the hollow caves of darkness."

Again--"Many who have acquired great fame and celebrity in the world,
began their career as printers.  Sir William Blackstone, the learned
English commentator of laws, was a printer by trade.  _King Charles the
Third_ was a printer, and not unfrequently worked at the trade after he
ascended the throne of England."

Who Charles the Third of England was I do not know, as he is not yet
mentioned in any of our histories.

The most remarkable newspaper for its obscenity, and total disregard for
all decency and truth in its personal attacks, is the Morning Herald of
New York, published by a person of the name of Bennett, and being
published in so large a city, it affords a convincing proof with what
impunity the most licentious attacks upon private characters are
permitted.  But Mr Bennett is _sui generis_; and demands particular
notice.  He is indeed a remarkable man, a species of philosopher, who
acts up to his tenets with a moral courage not often to be met with in
the United States.  His maxim appears to be this--"Money will find me
every thing in this world, and money I will have, at any risk, except
that of my life, as, if I lost that, the money would be useless."
Acting upon this creed, he has lent his paper to the basest and most
malignant purposes, to the hatred of all that is respectable and good,
defaming and inventing lies against every honest man, attacking the
peace and happiness of private families by the most injurious and base
calumny.  As may be supposed, he has been horse-whipped, kicked, trodden
under foot, and spat upon, and degraded in every possible way; but all
this he courts, because it brings money.  Horse-whip him, and he will
bend his back to the lash, and thank you, as every blow is worth so many
dollars.  Kick him, and he will remove his coat tails, that you may have
a better mark, and he courts the application of the toe, while he counts
the total of the damages which he may obtain.  Spit upon him, and he
prizes it as precious ointment, for it brings him the sovereign remedy
for his disease, a fever for specie.

The day after the punishment, he publishes a full and particular account
of how many kicks, tweaks of the nose, or lashes he may have received.
He prostitutes his pen, his talent, every thing for money.  His glory
is, that he has passed the rubicon of shame; and all he regrets is, that
the public is at last coming to the unanimous opinion, that he is too
contemptible, too degraded, to be even touched.  The other, and more
respectable editors of newspapers, avoid him, on account of the filth
which he pours forth; like a polecat, he may be hunted down; but no dog
will ever attempt to worry him, as soon as he pours out the contents of
his foetid bag.

It is a convincing proof of the ardent love of defamation in this
country, that this modern Thersites, who throws the former of that name
so immeasurably into the background, has still great sway over men in
office; every one almost, who has a character, is afraid of him, and
will purchase his silence, if they cannot his good will.

During the crash at New York, when even the suspicion of insolvency was
fatal, this miscreant published some of the most respectable persons of
New York as bankrupts, and yet received no punishment.  His paper is
clever, that is certain; but I very much doubt if Bennett is the clever
man--and my reason is this, Bennett was for some time in England, and
during that time the paper, so far from falling off, was better written
than before.  I myself, before I had been six weeks in the country, was
attacked by this wretch, and, at the same time, the paper was sent to me
with this small note on the margin:--"Send twenty dollars, and it shall
be stopped."--"I only wish you may get it," said I to myself.  [See Note
1.]

Captain Hamilton, speaking of the newspaper press in America, says--

"In order to form a fair estimate of their merit, I read newspapers from
all parts of the union, and found them utterly contemptible, in point of
talent, and dealing in abuse so virulent, as to excite a feeling of
disgust,--not only with the writers, but with the public which afforded
them support.  Tried by this standard--and I know not how it can be
objected to--the moral feeling of this people must be estimated lower
than in any deductions from other circumstances I have ventured to rate
it."

In the following remarks, also, I most cordially agree with him.  "Our
newspaper and periodical press is bad enough.  Its sins against
propriety cannot be justified, and ought not to be defended.  But its
violence is meekness, its liberty restraint, and even its atrocities are
virtues, when compared with that system of _brutal and ferocious
outrage_ which distinguishes the press in America.  In England, even an
insinuation against personal honour is intolerable.  A hint--a breath--
the contemplation even of a possibility of tarnish--such things are
sufficient to poison the tranquillity, and, unless met by prompt
vindication, to ruin the character of a public man; but in America, it
is thought necessary to have recourse to other weapons.  The strongest
epithets of a ruffian vocabulary are put in requisition."

It may be asked, how is it possible that an "enlightened nation" can
permit such atrocity.  It must be remembered, that newspapers are vended
at a very low price throughout the States, and that the support of the
major portion of them is derived from the ignorant and lower classes.
Every man in America reads his newspaper, and hardly any thing else; and
while he considers that he is assisting to govern the nation, he is in
fact, the dupe of those who pull the strings in secret, and by
flattering his vanity, and exciting his worst feelings, make him a poor
tool in their hands.  People are too apt to imagine that the newspapers
echo their own feelings; when the fact is, that by taking in a paper,
which upholds certain opinions, the readers are, by daily repetition,
become so impressed with these opinions, that they have become slaves to
them.  I have before observed, that learning to read and write is not
education, and but too often is the occasion of the demoralisation of
those, who might have been more virtuous and more happy in their
ignorance.  The other day when I was in a steam-vessel, going down to
Gravesend, I observed a foot-boy sitting on one of the benches--he was
probably ten or eleven years old, and was deeply engaged in reading a
cheap periodical, mostly confined to the lower orders of this country
called the Penny Paul Pry.  Surely it had been a blessing to the lad, if
he had never learnt to read or write, if he confined his studies, as
probably too many do, from want of farther leisure, to such an immoral
and disgusting publication.

In a country where every man is a politician, and flatters himself that
he is assisting to govern the country, political animosities must of
course be carried to the greatest lengths, and the press is the vehicle
for party violence; but Captain Hamilton's remarks are so forcible, and
so correct, that I prefer them to any I could make myself.

"The opponents of a candidate for office, are generally not content with
denouncing his principles, or deducing from the tenor of his political
life, grounds for questioning the purity of his motives.  They accuse
him boldly of _burglary_ or _arson_, or at the very least, of petty
larceny.  _Time, place and circumstances_, are all stated.  The
candidate for Congress or the Presidency, is broadly asserted to have
_picked pockets_, or pocketed silver spoons, or to have been guilty of
something equally mean and contemptible.  Two instances of this, occur
at this moment to my memory.  In one newspaper, a member of Congress was
denounced as having feloniously broken open a scrutoire, and having
thence stolen certain bills and banknotes; another was charged with
selling franks at twopence a piece, and thus coppering his pockets at
the expense of the public."

But let me add the authority of Americans.  Mr Webster, in his
celebrated speech on the public lands, observes in that powerful and
nervous language for which he is so celebrated:--"It is one of the
thousand calumnies with which the press teemed, during an excited
political canvass.  It was a charge, of which there was not only no
proof or probability, but which was, in itself, wholly impossible to be
true.  No man of common information ever believed a syllable of it.  Yet
it was of that class of falsehoods, which by continued repetition,
through all the organs of detraction and abuse, are capable of
misleading those who are already far misled, and of farther fanning
passion, already kindled into flame.  Doubtless, it served in its day,
and, in greater or less degree, the end designed by it.  Having done
that, it has sunk into the general mass of stale and loathed calumnies.
It is the very cast-off slough of a _polluted_ and _shameless_ press."
And Mr Cooper observes--"Every honest man appears to admit that the
press in America is fast getting to be _intolerable_.  In escaping from
the tyranny of foreign aristocrats, we have created in our bosoms a
_tyranny of a character_ so _insupportable_, that a change of some sort
is getting indispensable to peace."

Indeed, the spirit of defamation, so rife in America, is so intimately
connected with its principal channel, the press, that it is impossible
to mention one, without the other, and I shall, therefore, at once enter
into the question.

Defamation is the greatest curse in the United States, and its effects
upon society I shall presently point out.  It appears to be inseparable
from a democratic form of government, and must continue to flourish in
it, until it pleases the Supreme to change the hearts of men.  When
Aristides inquired of the countryman, who requested him to write down
his own name on the oyster-shell, what cause of complaint he had against
Aristides; the reply given was, "I have none; except, that I do not like
to hear him always called the _Just_."  So it is with the free and
enlightened citizens of America.  Let any man rise above his fellows by
superior talent, let him hold a consistent, honest career, and he is
exalted only into a pillory, to be pelted at, and be defiled with
ordure.  False accusations, the basest insinuations, are industriously
circulated, his public and private character are equally aspersed, truth
is wholly disregarded: even those who have assisted to raise him to his
pedestal, as soon as they perceive that he has risen too high above
them, are equally industrious and eager to drag him down again.
Defamation exists all over the world, but it is incredible to what an
extent this vice is carried in America.  It is a disease which pervades
the land; which renders every man suspicious and cautious of his
neighbour, creates eye-service and hypocrisy, fosters the bitterest and
most malignant passions, and unceasingly irritates the morbid
sensibility, so remarkable among all classes of the American people.

Captain Hamilton, speaking of the political contests, says, "From one
extremity of the Union to the other, the political war slogan is
sounded.  No quarter is given on either side; every printing press in
the United States is engaged in the conflict.  Reason, justice, and
charity; the claims of age and of past services, of high talents and
unspotted integrity, are forgotten.  No lie is too malignant to be
employed in this unhallowed contest, if it can but serve the purpose of
deluding, even for a moment, the most ignorant of mankind.  No
insinuation is too base, no equivocation too mean, no artifice too
paltry.  The world affords no parallel to the scene of political
depravity exhibited periodically in this free country."

Governor Clinton, in his address to the legislature in 1828,
says--"Party spirit has entered the recesses of retirement, violated the
sanctity of female character, invaded the tranquillity of private life,
and visited with severe inflictions the peace of families.  Neither
elevation nor humility has been spared, nor the charities of life, nor
distinguished public services,--nor the fire-side, nor the altar, been
left free from attack; but a licentious and destroying spirit has gone
forth, regardless of everything, but the gratification of malignant
feelings and unworthy aspirations."  And in the New York Annual
Register, quoted by Captain Hamilton, we have the following remarks: "In
conducting the political discussions which followed the adjournment of
Congress, both truth and propriety were set at defiance.  The decencies
of private life were disregarded; conversations and correspondence which
should have been confidential, were brought before the public eye; the
ruthless warfare was carried into the bosom of private life; neither age
nor sex were spared, the daily press teemed with ribaldry and falsehood;
and even the tomb was not held sacred from the rancorous hostility which
distinguished the presidential election of 1828."

I have considered it necessary thus to heap authority upon authority, as
the subject is one of the most vital importance; and I must first prove
the extent of this vice, without the chance of the shadow of
contradiction, before I point out its fatal consequences.

That the political animosities arising from a free and enlightened
people governing themselves, have principally engendered and fostered
this vice, is most certain; and it would be some satisfaction, if, after
the hostile feelings had subsided, the hydra also sank to repose.

But this cannot be the case.  A vice, like detraction, so congenial to
our imperfect natures, is not to be confined to one channel, and only
resorted to, as a political weapon, when required.  It is a vice which
when once called into action, and unchecked by the fear of punishment or
shame, must exist and be fed.  It becomes a confirmed habit, and the
effect upon society is dreadful.  If it cannot aim its shafts at those
who are in high places, if there is no noble quarry for its weapons, it
will seek its food amongst smaller game, for it never tires.  The
consequence is, that it pervades and feeds upon society--private life is
embittered; and, as Mr Cooper most justly observes, "_rendering men
indifferent to character, and indeed rendering character of little
avail_."

Indeed, from the prevalence of this vice, society in America appears to
be in a state of constant warfare--Indian warfare, as every one is
crouched, concealed, watching for an opportunity to scalp the reputation
of his neighbour!  They exist in fear and trembling, afraid to speak,
afraid to act, or follow their own will, for in America there is no free
will.  When I have asked why they do not this or that, the reply has
invariably been, that they dare not.  In fact, to keep their station in
society, they must be slaves--not merely slaves, for we are all so far
slaves, that if we do that which is not right, we must be expelled from
it; but abject and cowardly slaves, who dare not do that which is
innocent, lest they should be misrepresented.  This is the cause by
there is such an attention to the _outward_ forms of religion in the
United States, and which has induced some travellers to suppose them a
religious people, as if it were possible that any real religion could
exist, where morality is at so low an ebb.  When I first went to Boston,
I did not go to church on the following day.  An elderly gentleman
called upon and pointed out to me that I had omitted this duty; "but,"
continued he, "I have had it put into one of the newspapers that you
attended divine service at such a church, so all is right."  All was
right; yes, all was right, according to the American's ideas of "all was
right."  But I thought at the time, that my sin of omission was much
more venial than his of commission.

When at Detroit, I was attacked in the papers because I returned a few
calls on a Sunday.  I mention this, not because I was justified in so
doing, but because I wish to show the censorship exercised in this very
moral country.

The prevalence of this evil acts most unfortunately upon society in
other ways.  It is the occasion of your hardly ever knowing whom you
may, or whom you may not, be on terms of intimacy with, and of the
introduction of many people into society, who ought to be wholly
excluded.  Where slander is so general, when in the space of five
minutes you will be informed by one party, that Mr So and So is an
excellent person, and by another that he is a great scoundrel, just as
he may happen to be on their side or the opposite, in politics, or from
any other cause, it is certain that you must be embarrassed as to the
person's real character; and as a really good man may be vituperated, so
the reports against one who is unworthy, are as little credited: the
fact is, you never know who you are in company with.

Almost all the duels which are so frequent in America, and I may add all
the assassinations in the western country, arise principally from
defamation.  The law gives no redress, and there is no other way of
checking slander, than calling the parties to account for it.  Every man
is therefore ready and armed against his fellow.

Inadvertently affront any party, wound his self-love, and he will
immediately coin some malignant report, which is sure to be
industriously circulated.  You are at the mercy of the meanest wretch in
the country; for although praise is received with due caution, slander
is everywhere welcomed.  An instance occurred with respect to myself.  I
was at Lexington, and received great kindness and civility from Mr
Clay.  One day I dined at his table; there was a large party, and at the
further end, at a distance where he could not possibly have heard what
passed between Mr Clay and me, there sat a young man, whose name is not
worth mentioning.  When he returned to Louisville, he spread a report
that I had grossly insulted Mr Clay at his own table.  Now the
catalogue of enormities circulated against me was already so extensive,
that I was not in very good odour; but Mr Clay is so deservedly the
idol of this State, and indeed of almost the whole Union, that there
could not be a more serious charge against me--even those who were most
friendly avoided me, saying, they could forgive me what I had formerly
done, but to insult Mr Clay was too bad.  So high was the feeling, and
so industriously was the calumny circulated, that at last I was
compelled to write to Mr Clay on the subject, and I received in return
a most handsome letter, acquitting me of the malicious charge.  This I
showed to some, and they were satisfied; and they advised me to print
it, that it might be better known.  This was a compliment I did not
choose to pay them; and the impression of the majority still is that I
insulted Mr Clay.  The affair being one of the many connected with
myself, I should not have mentioned it, except to prove how lightly such
a practice is estimated.

Whatever society permits, people will do, and moreover, will not think
that they are wrong in so doing.  In England, had a person been guilty
of a deliberate and odious lie, he would have been scouted from society,
his best friends would have cut him; but how was this person treated for
his conduct?  When I showed Mr Clay's letter, one said, "Well now, that
was very wrong of A."--Another, "I did not believe that A would have
done so."--A third, "that A ought to be ashamed of himself;" but they
did not one of them, on account of this falsehood, think it necessary to
avoid him.  On the contrary, he was walking arm-in-arm with the men,
dancing and flirting with the women just as before, although his
slander, and the refutation of it, were both well known.

The reader will now perceive the great moral evil arising from this
vice, which is, that it habituates people to falsehood.  The lie of
slander is the basest of all lies; and the practice of it, the most
demoralising to the human heart.  Those who will descend to such
deliberate and malignant falsehood, will not scruple at any other
description.  The consequence is, that what the Americans have been so
often taxed with, is but too prevalent, "a disregard to _truth_."

To what must we ascribe the great prevalence of this demoralising habit
in the United States?  That the licentiousness of the press feeds it, it
is true; but I am rather inclined to imagine that the real source of it
is to be found in the peculiarity of their institutions.  Under a
democracy, there are but two means by which a man can rise above his
fellows--wealth and character; and when all are equal, and each is
struggling to rise above the other, it is to the principle that if you
cannot rise above another by your own merit, you can at least so far
equalise your condition by pulling him down to your own level, that this
inordinate appetite for defamation must be ascribed.  It is a state of
ungenerous warfare, arising from there being no gradation, no scale, no
discipline, if I may use the term, in society.  Every one asserts his
equality, and at the same time wishes to rise above his fellows; and
society is in a state of perpetual and disgraceful scuffle.  Mr
Tocqueville says, "There exists in the human heart a depraved taste for
equality, which impels the weak to attempt to lower the powerful to
their own level, and induces men to prefer equality in slavery to
inequality with freedom."

In politics, especially, character becomes of much more importance than
wealth, and if a man in public life can once be rendered odious, or be
made suspected, he loses his supporters, and there is one antagonist
removed in the race for pre-eminence.  Such is one of the lamentable
defects arising from a democratical form of Government.  How different
from England, and the settled nations of the old world, where it may be
said that everything and everybody is, comparatively speaking, in his
place!

Although many will, and may justifiably, attempt to rise beyond his
circumstances and birth, still there is order and regularity; each party
knows the precise round in the ladder on which he stands, and the
majority are content with their position.

It is lamentable to observe how many bad feelings, how many evil
passions, are constantly in a state of activity from this unfortunate
chaotical want of gradation and discipline, where all would be first,
and every one considers himself as good as his neighbour.

The above-mentioned author observes--"The surface of American society
is, if I may use the expression, covered with a layer of democracy, from
beneath which the aristocratic colours sometimes peep."

In a moral sense, this is also true, the nobler virtues which are
chiefly produced in the fertile field of aristocracy do occasionally
appear; but the whole surface is covered with a layer of democracy,
which like the lava which the volcano continually belches forth, has
gradually poured down, and reduced the country round it to barrenness
and sterility.  [See Note 2.]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  _Some_ of the _invented calumnies_ against me found their way
to this country.  I consider the contents of this chapter to be a
sufficient refutation, not only of what has been, but of what will in
all probability be hereafter asserted against me by the American press.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  This chapter was in the press, when a paragraph, cut out of the
Baltimore Chronicle, was received from an anonymous hand at New York.
Whether with a friendly intention or otherwise, I am equally obliged to
the party, as it enables me to further prove, if it were necessary, the
vituperation of the American press.

"Many persons in our country had an opportunity of becoming acquainted
with the Captain.  The fast-anchored isle never gave birth to a _more
unmitigated blackguard_.  His awkward, unwieldy misshapen body, was but
a fair lodging for a low, depraved, licentious soul.  Although liberally
educated, he seemed insensible to any other enjoyments than those of
sense.  No human being could in his desires or habits approach more near
to the animal than him.  No gentleman ever sat down with him an hour
without a sensation of loathing and disgust.  `What kind of man is
Captain Marryat?' was once asked in our presence of a distinguished
member of Congress, who had sojourned with him at the White Sulphur
Springs.  `He is no man at all,' was the reply, `he is a beast.'"

This is really "going the whole hog" himself, and making me go it too.
Now, if I receive such abuse for my first three volumes, in which I went
into little or no analysis, what am I to expect for those which are
about to appear?  To the editor of the Baltimore Chronicle I feel
indebted: but I suspect that the _respectable_ portion of the American
community will be very much annoyed at my thus giving his remarks more
extensive circulation than he anticipated.



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER SEVEN.

AUTHORS, ETC.

The best specimens of American writing are to be found in their
political articles, which are, generally speaking, clear, argumentative,
and well arranged.  The President's annual message is always masterly in
composition, although disgraced by its servile adulation of the
majority.  If we were to judge of the degrees of enlightenment of the
two countries, America and England, by the President's message and the
King's speech, we should be left immeasurably in the back-ground--the
message, generally speaking, being a model of composition, while the
speech is but too often a farrago of bad English.  This is very strange,
as those who concoct the speech are of usually much higher classical
attainments than those who write the message.  The only way to account
for it, is, that in the attempt to condense the speech, they pare and
pare away till the sense of it is almost gone; his Majesty's ministers
perfectly understanding what they mean themselves, but forgetting that
it is necessary that others should do the same.  But in almost all
branches of literature the Americans have no cause to be displeased with
the labours of their writers, considering that they have the
disadvantage of America looking almost entirely to the teeming press of
England for their regular supply, and nowhere in that country can be
said at present to be men of leisure and able to devote themselves to
the pursuit.  An author by profession would gain but a sorry livelihood
in the United States, unless he happened to be as deservedly successful
as Washington Irving or Cooper.  He not only has to compete against the
best English authors, but as almost all the English works are published
without any sum being paid for the copyright, it is evident that he must
sell his work at a higher price if he is to obtain any profit.  An
English work of fiction, for instance, is sold at a dollar and a
quarter, while an American one costs two dollars.

This circumstance would alone break down the American literature if it
were not for the generosity of England in granting their authors a
copyright in this country; indeed, the American public pay that tacit
compliment to us that they will hardly look at a work by one of their
own citizens, until it has first been published in England, and received
the stamp of approbation.  Those American authors who have obtained a
reputation, look, therefore chiefly to the English copyright for
remuneration; and if it were not for this liberality on our part, the
American literature would not receive sufficient support from its own
country to make it worth the while of any one to engage in it.  The
number of English works republished in America is very great, but the
number of each work sold is much smaller than people here imagined.

The periodical literature of the United States is highly creditable.
The American Quarterly Review; the New York Mirror, by George P Morris;
the Knickerbocker, by Clarke; and the Monthly Magazine; all published at
New York, are very good; so, indeed, are the magazines published at
Philadelphia, and many others.  It may be said that, upon the whole, the
periodical press of America is pretty well on a par with that of this
country.  Periodical literature suits the genius of the Americans, and
it is better supported by them than any other description.

The Americans are jealous of our literature, as they are, indeed, of
everything connected with this country; but they do themselves injustice
in this respect, as I consider that they have a very fair proportion of
good writers.  In history, and the heavier branches of literature, they
have the names of Sparks, Prescott, Bancroft, Schoolcraft, Butler,
Carey, Pitkin, etcetera.  In general literature, they have Washington
Irving, Fay, Hall, Willis, Sanderson, Sedgwick, Leslie, Stephens, Child
and Neal.  In fiction, they have Cooper, Paulding, Bird, Kennedy,
Thomas, Ingraham, and many others.  They have, notwithstanding the
mosquitoes, produced some very good poets: Bryant, Halleck, Sigourney,
Drake, etcetera; and have they not, with a host of polemical writers,
Dr Channing, one of their greatest men, and from his moral courage in
pointing out their errors, the best friend to his country that America
has ever produced!  Indeed, to these names we might fairly add their
legal writers--Chancellor Kent and Judge Story, as well as Webster,
Clay, Everett, Cass, and others, who are better known from their great
political reputations than from their writings.  Considering that they
have but half our population, and not a quarter of the time to spare
that we have in this country, the Americans have no want of good
writers, although there are few of them well known to the British
public.  It must be pointed out that the American writers are under
another disadvantage which we are not subject to in this country, which
is, that freedom of opinion is not permitted to them; the majority will
not allow it, except on points of religion, and in them they may
speculate as much as they please, and publish their opinions, whether
Deistical, Atheistical, or worse, if they can find worse out.  It is
true than an author may, and some will, publish what they please, but if
he does not wish to lose his popularity, and thereby lose his profits,
he must not only not offend, but he must conciliate and flatter the
nation: and such is the practice with the majority of American authors.
Whether it be a work of fiction or one of history his countrymen must be
praised, and, if it be possible to introduce it, there must be some
abuse of England.  This fact will account for the waning popularity of
Mr Cooper; he has ventured to tell his countrymen the truth in more
than [one] of his later works, and now the majority are against him.
The work, which I have often quoted in these pages, called "The
Democrat," fell dead from the press.  I think it fortunate for Mr
Cooper that it did, as people have been lynched who have not said half
so much as he did in that work.  His "Naval History" will reinstate him,
and I suspect it has been taken up with that view, for, although Mr
Cooper has shown a good deal of moral courage, he has not remained
consistent.  At one moment he publishes "The Democrat," and gives his
countrymen a good _whipping_, and then he publishes his "Naval History,"
and _soft sawders_ them.  But, with the exception of Dr Channing, he
almost stands alone in this particular.

One of the best authors of America is Judge Hall; he proves himself by
his writings to be a shrewd, intelligent man, and yet in his "Statistics
of the West" I was surprised to find the following paragraph, the
substance of which was more than once repeated in the work.  Speaking of
the Indian hostilities, he says:--

"The mother country (England) never ceased to indulge in the hope of
reuniting the colonies (that is the United States) to her empire, until
the _war of eighteen hundred and twelve_ crushed the last vestige of her
delusive anticipations."

Such is his preposterous assertion, the absurdity of which will make an
Englishman laugh; but the corollaries drawn from it are serious, as they
are intended to feed the hostile feeling still existing against this
country; for he attempts to prove that from the time the Independence
was ratified by George the Third, that we have ever been trying to
reduce America again to our sway; and that all the hostile attempts of
the various Indian tribes, all the murders of women and children, and
scalping, since that date, were wholly to be ascribed to the agency and
bribes of England, who hoped by such means to drive the Americans back
to the sea coast, where they could be assailed by her navy.

A little reflection might satisfy any reasonable American, that when
they wrestled by main force, and without regard to justice, those lands
from the Indians which they had hunted over for so many generations, and
which were their own property, it was very natural that the Indians
should not surrender them without a struggle.  But the wish of Judge
Hall was to satisfy his countrymen that their exterminating wars against
the Indians have been those of _self defence_, and not of _unpardonable
aggression_.  At that period there were many white men who had either
joined, or, having been captured, had been adopted into, the Indian
tribes.  All these Judge Hall would make out to be English emissaries,
especially one whom he very correctly designates as the "infamous
Girty."  Unfortunately for Judge Hall the infamous Girty was an
American, and born in Philadelphia, as is proved by American authority.

This obligation to write for their own countrymen, and for them alone,
has very much injured the sale of American works in England, for
publishers having read them find so many offensive and untrue remarks
upon this country, that they will not print them.  But it does more
harm, as it cramps genius, harrows their ideas, and instead of leading
in the advance, and the people looking up to them, they follow in the
rear, and look up to the people, whom they flatter to obtain popularity;
and thus the pen in America, as a moral weapon, is at present
"_niddering_."

The remarks of Miss Martineau on American literature are, as all her
other remarks, to be received with great caution.  Where she obtained
her information I know very well, and certain it is that she has been
most egregiously deceived.  An American critic observes very truly:--

"It is the misfortune of professed book writers, when they arrive in the
United States, to fall into the hands of certain cliques in our
principal cities and town, who make themselves the medium of
interpretation--their own modes of life, the representation of those of
the _elite_ of the country; their own opinions, the infallible criterion
by which all others must be estimated.  They surround the traveller with
an atmosphere of their own, and hope to shine through it on the future
pages of the grateful guest.

"This accounts satisfactorily for many things which are to be found in
Miss Martineau's work, for her numerous misapprehensions as to the
character, taste, and occupations of the American women.

"She evidently mistakes the character of our merchants, and does our
literature but meagre justice.  To hold up some obscure publications
from the pens of mere literary adventurers as the best works she has
seen, and at the same time pronounce Mr Cooper's much regretted
failure, is a stretch of boldness, quite unwarranted by anything Miss
Martineau has yet achieved in the republic of letters."

Such was really the case; Miss Martineau fell into what was termed the
Stockbridge clique, and pinned her faith upon the oracles which they
poured into her ears.  She says that in America, Hannah More is best
known; on the contrary, Hannah More is hardly known in the United
States.

She says that Wordsworth is much read.  Mr Wordsworth has never even in
this country been appreciated as he ought to be.  In America it may
almost be said that he has not been read; and she adds to this, that
Byron is _little known_; this is really too bold an assertion.  Miss
Martineau was everywhere in the best society in America; and I believe
that in nine drawing-rooms out of ten, she must have seen a copy of
Byron lying on the table.

She says Mr Cooper is a failure.  With the exception of Washington
Irving, there never was an American writer so justly popular in America
as Cooper.  It is true that latterly he has displeased the majority, by
pointing out to them their faults, and that he is not _always_ in a good
humour when he writes about England.  But to state the author of such
works as "_The Pilot_", "_The Last of the Mohicans_", and "_The
Prairie_", a failure, is really too absurd.  The cause of this remark is
said to be that Mr Cooper had a quarrel with Miss Martineau's
particular friend Mr S---.  There is only one remark in the whole of
her observations which is in itself true.  She says Bulwer is much read.
Here she is correct: but the cause which she gives for his being so
much read, is not the real one.  She asserts it is on account of his
liberal opinions; it is not on that account, it is from the interest of
his stories, and the beauty of his writing.

But the assertion that seemed to me the most strange in Miss Martineau's
work, was, that Mr Carlisle, the author of "_Sartor Resartus_", was the
most read of any English author.  Without intending to depreciate the
works of Mr Carlisle, I felt convinced from my own knowledge, that this
could not be a fact, for Mr Carlisle's works are not suited to the
Americans.  I, therefore, determined to ascertain how far it was
correct.  I went to the publishers, and inquired how many of Mr
Carlisle's works had been printed.  They replied that they had printed
one edition of six hundred copies, which they had nearly sold; and were
considering whether it would be worth their while to print a second; and
in consequence of Miss Martineau's assertion, that Byron was little
known, I applied to the largest publishers in New York and Philadelphia,
to ascertain, if I could, how many copies of Byron had been published.
The reply was, that it was impossible to say exactly, as there had been
so many editions issued, by so many different publishers, but that they
considered that from one hundred and fifty to two hundred thousand
copies, must have been sold! so much for the accuracy of Miss Martineau.
[See Note 1.]

I am afraid, that notwithstanding the eloquent and energetic exertions
of the author of "_Ion_," we shall never be able to make the public
believe that the creations of a man's brain are his own property, or
effect any arrangement with foreign countries, so as to secure a
copyright to the English author.  As on my arrival in America it was
reported in the newspapers that I had come out to ascertain what could
be done in that respect, and to follow up the petition of the English
authors.  The subject was, therefore, constantly introduced and
canvassed; and I naturally took an interest in it.  Every one almost was
for granting it; but, at the same time, every one told me that we should
not obtain it.

The petition of the English authors to Congress was warmly espoused by
Mr Clay, who invariably leads the van in everything which is liberal
and gentlemanlike.  A select committee, of which Mr Clay was chairman,
was formed to consider upon it, and the following was the result of
their inquiry, and a bill was brought in, upon the report of the
committee:--

"_In Senate of the United States, Feb_. 16, 1837.

"Mr Clay made the following report:--

"The select committee to whom was referred the address of certain
British and the petition of certain American authors, have, according to
order, had the same under consideration, and beg leave now to report:--

"That, by the act of Congress of 1831, being the law now in force
regulating copyrights, the benefits of the act are restricted to
citizens or residents of the United States; so that no foreigner,
residing abroad, can secure a copyright in the United States for any
work of which he is the author, however important or valuable it may be.
The object of the address and petition, therefore, is to remove this
restriction as to British authors, and to allow them to enjoy the
benefits of our law.

"That authors and inventors have, according to the practice among
civilised nations, a property in the respective productions of their
genius is incontestible; and that this property should be protected as
effectually as any other property is, by law, follows as a legitimate
consequence.  Authors and inventors are among the greatest benefactors
of mankind.  They are often dependent, exclusively, upon their own
mental labours for the means of subsistence; and are frequently, from
the nature of their pursuits, or the constitutions of their minds,
incapable of applying that provident care to worldly affairs which other
classes of society are in the habit of bestowing.  These considerations
give additional strength to their just title to the protection of the
law.

"It being established that literary property is entitled to legal
protection, it results that this protection ought to be afforded
wherever the property is situated.  A British merchant brings or
transmits to the United States a bale of merchandise, and the moment it
comes within the jurisdiction of our laws they throw around it effectual
security.  But if the work of a British author is brought to the United
States, it may be appropriated by any resident here, and republished,
without any compensation whatever being made to the author.  We should
be all shocked if the law tolerated the least invasion of the rights of
property, in the case of the merchandise, whilst those which justly
belong to the works of authors are exposed to daily violation, without
the possibility of their invoking the aid of the laws.

"The committee think that this distinction in the condition of the two
descriptions of property is not just; and that it ought to be remedied
by some safe and cautious amendment of the law.  Already the principle
has been adopted in the patent laws, of extending their benefits to
foreign inventions and improvements.  It is but carrying out the same
principle to extend the benefit of our copyright laws to foreign
authors.  In relation to the subject of Great Britain and France, it
will be but a measure of reciprocal justice; for, in both of those
countries, our authors may enjoy that protection of their laws for
literary property which is denied to their subjects here.

"Entertaining these views, the committee have been anxious to devise
some measure which, without too great a disturbance of interests or
affecting too seriously arrangements which have grown out of the present
state of things, may, without hazard, be subjected to the test of
practical experience.  Of the works which have heretofore issued from
the foreign press, many have already been republished in the United
States; others are in a progress of republication, and some probably
have been stereotyped.  A copyright law which should embrace any of
these works, might injuriously affect American publishers, and lead to
collision and litigation between them and foreign authors.

"Acting, then, on the principles of prudence and caution, by which the
committee have thought it best to be governed, the bill which the
committee intend proposing provides that the protection which it secures
shall extend to those works only which shall be published after its
passage.  It is also limited to the subjects of Great Britain and
France; among other reasons, because the committee have information
that, by their laws, American authors can obtain there protection for
their productions; but they have no information that such is the case in
any other foreign country.  But, in principle, the committee perceive no
objection to considering the republic of letters as one great community,
and adopting a system of protection for literary property which should
be common to all parts of it.  The bill also provides that an American
edition of the foreign work for which an American copyright has been
obtained, shall be published within reasonable time.

"If the bill should pass, its operation in this country would be to
leave the public, without any charge for copyright, in the undisturbed
possession of all scientific and literary works published prior to its
passage--in other words, the great mass of the science and literature of
the world; and to entitle the British or French author only to the
benefit of every copyright in respect to works which may be published
subsequent to the passage of the law.

"The committee cannot anticipate any reasonable or just objection to a
measure thus guarded and restricted.  It may, indeed, be contended, and
it is possible that a new work, when charged with the expense incident
to the copyright, may come into the hands of the purchaser at a small
advance beyond what would be its price, if there were no such charge;
but this is by no means certain.  It is, on the contrary, highly
probable that, when the American publisher has adequate time to issue
carefully an edition of the foreign work, without incurring the
extraordinary expense which he now has to sustain to make a hurried
publication of it, and to guard himself against dangerous competition,
he will be able to bring it into the market as cheaply as if the bill
were not to pass.  But, if that should not prove to be the case, and if
the American reader should have to pay a few cents to compensate the
author for composing a work which he is instructed and profited, would
it not be just in itself?  Has any reader a right to the use, without
remuneration, of intellectual productions which have not yet been
brought into existence, but lie buried in the mind of genius?  The
committee think not; and they believe that no American citizen would not
feel it quite as unjust, in reference to future publications, to
appropriate to himself their use, without any consideration being paid
to their foreign proprietors, as he would to take the bale of
merchandise, in the case stated, without paying for it; and he would the
more readily make this trifling contribution, when it secured to him,
instead of the imperfect and slovenly book now often issued, a neat and
valuable work, worthy of preservation.

"With respect to the constitutional power to pass the proposed bill, the
committee entertain no doubt, and Congress, as before stated, has acted
on it.  The constitution authorises Congress to promote the progress of
science and useful arts, by securing, for limited times, to authors and
inventors, the exclusive right to their respective writings and
discoveries.  There is no limitation of the power to natives or
residents of this country.  Such a limitation would have been hostile to
the object of the power granted.  That object was to _promote_ the
progress of science and useful arts.  They belong to no particular
country, but to mankind generally.  And it cannot be doubted that the
stimulus which it was intended to give to mind and genius, in other
words, the promotion of the progress of science and the arts, will be
increased by the motives which the bill offers to the inhabitants of
Great Britain and France.

"The committee conclude by asking leave to introduce the bill which
accompanies this report."

Let it not, however, be supposed that Mr Clay was unreported by the
American press; on the contrary, a large portion of it espoused the
cause of the English author in the most liberal manner, indeed the boon
itself, if granted, would in reality be of more advantage to America
than to us; as many of them argued.  The New York Daily Express
observes, "But another great evil resulting from the present law is,
that most of the writers of our own country are utterly precluded from
advancing our native literature, since they can derive no emolument or
compensation for their labours; and it is idle to urge that the devotees
of literature, any more than the ingenious artisan or mechanic, can be
indifferent to the ultimate advantages which should result alike to both
from the diligent use and studious application of their mental energies.
We patronise and read the works of foreign writers, but it is at the
expense of our own, the books of the English author being procured free
of all cost, supersede those which would otherwise be produced by our
own countrymen,--thus the foreigner is wronged, while the same wrong
acts again as a tariff upon our American author and all this manifest
injury is perpetuated without its being qualified by the most remote
advantage to any of the parties concerned."

The Boston Atlas responded to this observation in almost the same
language.

"This systematic, legalised depredation on English authors, is perfectly
ruinous to all native literature.  What writer can devote himself to a
literary work, which he must offer on its completion, in competition
with a work of the same description, perhaps, furnishing _printed copy_
to the compositors, and to be had for the expense of a single London
copy.  What publisher would give its worth for a novel, in manuscript,
supposing it to be equal to Bulwer's best, when he would get a novel of
Bulwer himself, for a few shillings--with an English reputation at the
back of it?  This is the great reason that we have so few works
illustrative of our own history--whether of fact or fiction.  Our
booksellers are supplied for nothing."

I extract the following from a very excellent article on the subject, in
the North American Review.

Another bad consequence of the existing state of things is, that the
choice of books, which shall be offered us, is in the wrong hands.  Our
publishers have, to no small extent, the direction of our reading,
inasmuch as they make the selection of books for reprinting.  They, of
course, will choose those works which will command the readiest and most
extensive sale; but it must be remembered, that in so doing, while they
answer the demand of the most numerous class of readers, they neglect
the wants of the more cultivated and intelligent class.  Besides his,
there are many admirable works, which might come into general use if
they were presented to our reading public, but which are left unnoticed
by the publishers, because their success is doubtful.  Supposing
Abbott's `Young Christian,' for instance, a book which has had a more
extensive circulation than any work of the present times, had been first
published in England at the same moment that a good novel appeared, the
American publishers would have given us immediately a horrid reprint of
the novel; but we should have heard nothing of Abbott's book, till its
success had been abundantly tried abroad; nor even then, if some
ephemeral novel had started up which promised to sell better.

"Nor is it certain that the price of books would be seriously augmented
by the passage of the copyright law.  It must be remembered, that a
great number of writers would thus be called into the field at once,
English as well as American writers; for, if English authors could enjoy
this benefit, they would soon begin to write expressly for America; and
the competition would become so great, as to regulate the prices of
books to a proper standard.  But, even supposing the price to be
considerably raised, it would certainly be better to pay two dollars for
a handsome volume, which is worth keeping, and worth reading again, than
to pay only one dollar for a book, which in five years will be worth no
more than the same amount of brown paper.  And, finally, there is the
consideration of a native literature, which will, we presume, be placed
by all reasonable and intelligent persons above that of cheap books."

Nevertheless, a large portion of the press took up the other side of the
question, as may be inferred from a reply which I have inserted in the
note beneath.  [See note 2.]

The bill brought in was lost.  Strange to say, the Southerner voted
against, on the grounds that they would not give a copyright to Miss
Martineau, to propagate her abolition doctrines in that country--
forgetting, that as a copyright would increase the price of a work, it
would be the means of checking its circulation, rather than of extending
it.

When I arrived at Washington, I thought it would be worth while to
ascertain the opinion of any of the members of Congress I might meet;
and one fine morning, I put the question to one of the Loco foco
delegates; when the following conversation took place:--

"Why, Captain, there is much to be said on this subject.  Your authors
have petitioned our Congress, I perceive.  The petition was read last
session."

(Many of the Americans appeared to be highly gratified at the idea of an
English petition having been sent to Congress.)

"I believe it was."

"Well, now, you see, Captain--you will ask us to let you have your
copyright in this country, as you allow our authors their copyright in
yours; and I suppose you mean to say that if we do not, that our authors
shall have no copyright in your country.  We'll allow that, but still I
consider you ask too much, as the balance is on our side most
considerably.  Your authors are very numerous--ours are not.  It is very
true, that you can steal our copyrights, as well as we can yours.  But
if you steal ten, we steal a hundred.  Don't you perceive that you ask
us to give up the advantage?"

"Oh, certainly," replied I, "I have nothing more to say on the subject.
I'm only glad of one thing."

"And what may that be, Captain?"

"That I did not sign the petition."

"No, we observed that your name was not down, which rather surprised
us."

To this cogent argument of the honourable member, I had no reply; and
this was the first and last time that I broached the subject when at
Washington; but after many conversations with American gentleman on the
subject, and examination into the real merits of the case, came to the
conclusion, that the English authors never would obtain a copyright in
the United States, and as long as the present party are in power.

Their principal argument raised against the copyright, is as follows:--

"It is only by the enlightening and education of the people, that we can
expect our institutions to hold together.  You ask us to tax ourselves,
to check the circulation of cheap literature, so essential to our
welfare for the benefit of a few English authors?  Are the interests of
thirteen millions of people to be sacrificed? the foundation of our
government and institutions to be shaken for such trivial advantages as
would be derived by a few foreign authors.  Your claim has the show of
justice we admit, but when the sacrifice to justice must be attended
with such serious consequences, must we not adhere to expediency?"

Now, it so happens that the very reverse of this argument has always
proved to be the case from the denial of copyright.  The enlightening of
a people can only be produced by their hearing the truth, which they
cannot, and do not, under existing regulations, receive from their own
authors, as I have already pointed out; and the effects of their refusal
of the copyright to English authors, is, that the American publishers
will only send forth such works as are likely to have an immediate sale,
such as the novels of the day, which may be said at present to comprise
nearly the whole of American rending.  Such works as might enlighten the
Americans are not so rapidly saleable as to induce an American publisher
to risk publishing when there is such competition.  What is the
consequence that the Americans are amused, but not instructed or
enlightened?

According to the present system of publication in America, the grant of
copyright would prove to be of advantage only to a few authors--of
course, I refer to the most popular.  I had free admission to the books
of one of the largest publishing houses in the United States, and I
extracted from them the profits received by this house for works of a
certain reputation.  It will be perceived, that the editions published
are not large.  The profits of the American houses chiefly resulting
from the number of works published, each of these yielding a moderate
profit, which when collected together, swell into a large sum total.

+=========================+==============+===========+================+
Ý                         Ýcopies printedÝTrade priceÝ                Ý
+-------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------------+
ÝFielding                 Ý         2,500Ý104 cents  Ýmany left unsoldÝ
+-------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------------+
ÝPrior's Life of GoldsmithÝ           750Ý200 cents  Ýsold            Ý
+-------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------------+
ÝArethusa                 Ý         1,250Ý70 cents   Ýall sold        Ý
+-------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------------+
ÝAbel Allnut              Ý         1,250Ý52 cents   Ýalmost all sold Ý
+-------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------------+
ÝFellow Commoner          Ý         2,000Ý70 cents   Ýmany on hand    Ý
+-------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------------+
ÝRifle Brigade            Ý         2,000Ý37 cents   Ýmany on hand    Ý
+-------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------------+
ÝSharpe's Essays          Ý         1,000Ý54 cents   Ýone half sold   Ý
+=========================+==============+===========+================+

Now, as there are one hundred cents to a dollar, and the expenses of
printing, paper, and advertising have to be deducted, as well as the
copies left on hand, it will be evident, that the profit on each of the
above works, would be too small to allow the publishers in America to
give even 20 pounds for the copyright, the consequence of a copyright
would therefore be, that the major portion of the works printed would
not be published at all, and better works would be substituted.  Of
course, such authors as Walter Scott, Byron, Bulwer, etcetera, have a
most extensive sale; and the profits are in proportion, but then it must
be remembered that a great many booksellers publish editions, and the
profits are divided accordingly.  Could Sir Walter Scott have obtained a
copyright in the United States, it would have bean worth to him by this
time at least 100,000 pounds.

The Americans talk so much about their being the most enlightened nation
in the world, that it has been generally received to be the case.  I
have already stated my ideas on this subject, and I think that the small
editions usually published, of works not standard or elementary, prove,
that with the exception of newspapers, they are not a _reading_ nation.
The fact is, they have no time to read; they are all at work; and if
they get through their daily newspaper, is quite as much as most of them
can effect.  Previous to my arrival in the United States, and even for
some time afterwards, I had an idea that there was a much larger
circulation of every class of writing in America, than there really is.
It is only the most popular English authors, as Walter Scott, or the
most fashionable, as Byron, which have any extensive circulation; the
works which at present the Americans like best, are those of fiction in
which there is anything to excite or amuse them, which is very natural,
considering how actively they are employed during the major portion of
their existence, and the consequent necessity of occasional relaxation.
When we consider the extreme cheapness of books in the United States,
and the enormous price of them in this country, the facilities of
reading them there, and the difficulty attending it here from the above
cause, I have no hesitation in saying, that as a _reading nation_, the
United States cannot enter into comparison with us.

As I am upon this subject, I cannot refrain from making a few remarks
upon it, as connected with this country.  The price of a book now
published is enormous, when the prime cost of paper and printing is
considered; the actual value of each three volumes of a moderate
edition, which are sold at a guinea and a half, being about four
shillings and sixpence, and when the edition is large, as the outlay for
putting up the type is the same in both, of course it is even less; but
the author must be paid, and upon the present small editions he adds
considerably to the price charged upon every volume; then comes the
expense of advertising, which is very heavy; the profits of the
publisher, and the profits of the trade in general; for every book for
which the public pay a guinea and a half, is delivered by the publisher
to the trade, that is, to the booksellers, at 1 pound 1 shillings 3
pence.  The allowance to the trade, therefore, is the heaviest tax of
all; but it is impossible for booksellers to keep establishments,
clerks, etcetera, without having indemnification.  In all the above
items, which so swells up the price of the book, there cannot well be
any deduction made.

Let us examine into the division of profits.  I am only making an
approximation, but it is quite near enough for the purpose.

An edition of 1,000 copies at 1 pound 11 shillings 6 pence will give
1,575 pounds.

POSITIVE EXPENSES TO PUBLISHER.

Trade allowance of 10 shillings. 3 pence per copy: 512 pounds 10
shillings.

Extra allowance. 25 for 24-40 copies: 63 pounds.

Printing and paper, 4 shillings 6 pence per copy: 225 pounds 0
shillings.

Advertising, equal to 2 shillings per copy: 100 pounds 0 shillings.

Presentations to Universities and Reviewers, say 30 copies: 47 pounds 5
shillings.

The author if he is well known, may be said to receive 7 shillings per
copy: 250 pounds 0 shillings.

Leaving for the publisher: 277 pounds 0 shillings.

Total 1,575 pounds 0 shillings.

All the first expenses being positive, it follows that the struggle is
between the publisher and the author, as to what division shall be made
of the remainder.  The publisher points out the risk he incurs, and the
author his time and necessities; and when it is considered that many
authors take more than a year to write a book, it must be acknowledged
that the sum paid to them, as I have put it down, is not too great.  The
risk, however, is with the publisher, and the great profits with the
trade, which is perhaps the reason why booksellers often make fortunes,
and publishers as often become bankrupts.  Generally speaking, however,
the two are combined, the sure gain of the bookseller being as a set off
against the speculation of the publisher.

But one thing is certain, the price of books in this country is much too
high, and what are the consequences?  First, that instead of purchasing
books, and putting them into their libraries, people have now formed
themselves into societies and book-clubs, or trust entirely to obtaining
them from circulating libraries.  Without a book is very popular, it is
known by the publisher what the sale is likely to be, within perhaps
fifty copies; for the book-clubs and libraries will, and must have it,
and hardly anybody else will; for who will pay a guinea and a half for a
book which may, after all, prove not worth reading!  Secondly, it has
the effect of the works being reprinted abroad, and sent over to this
country; which, of course, decreases the sale of the English edition.
At the Custom-House, they now admit English works printed in Paris, at a
small duty, when brought over in a person's luggage for private reading;
and these foreign editions are smuggled, and are to be openly purchased
at most of the towns along the coast.  This cannot be prevented--and as
for any international copyright being granted by France or Belgium, I do
not think that it ever will be; and if it were, it would be of no avail,
for the pirating would then be carried on a little further off in the
small German States; and if you drove it to China, it would take place
there.  We are running after a Will-o'-the-wisp in that expectation.
The fault lies in ourselves; the books are too dear, and the question
now is, cannot they be made cheaper?

There is a luxury in printing, to which the English have been so long
accustomed, that it would not do to deprive them of it.  Besides, bad
paper and bad type would make but little difference in the expense of
the book, as my calculation will show; but if a three volume work [see
Note 3] could be delivered to the public at ten shillings, instead of a
guinea and a half, it would not only put a stop to piracy abroad, but
the reduced price would induce many hundreds to put it into their
library, and be independent of the hurried reading against time, and
often against inclination, to which they are subject by book-clubs and
circulating libraries; and that this is not the case, is the fault of
the public itself, and not of the author, publisher, or any other party.

It is evident that the only way by which books may be made cheap, is by
an extended sale--and "_Nicholas Nickleby_", and other works of that
description, have proved that a cheap work will have an extended sale--
always provided it is a really good one.

But it is impossible to break through the present arrangements which
confine the sale of books, unless the public themselves will take it in
hand--if they choose to exert themselves, the low prices may be firmly
established with equal benefit to all parties, and with an immense
increase in the consumption of paper.  To prove that any attempt on the
part of an author or publisher will not succeed unaided, it was but a
few months ago, that Mr Bentley made the trial, and published the three
volumes at one guinea; but he did not sell one copy more--the clubs and
libraries took the usual number, and he was compelled to raise his
price.  The rapid sale of the Standard Novels, which have been read over
and over again, when published at the price of five shillings, is
another proof that the public has no objection to purchase when the
price is within its means.

I can see but one way by which this great desideratum is to be effected;
which is, by the public insuring by subscription any publisher or
bookseller from loss, provided he delivers the works at the reduced
price.  At present, one copy of a book may be said to serve for thirty
people at least; but say that it serves for ten, or rather say that you
could obtain five thousand, or even a less number, of people to put down
their names as subscribers to all new works written by certain named
authors, which should be published at the reduced price of ten shillings
per copy.  Let us see the result.

A ten shilling work under such auspices would be delivered to the trade
at eight shillings.

The value of the five thousand copies to the publisher would be 2,000
shillings 0 shillings.

The expenses of printing and paper would be reduced to about 3 shillings
a copy, which would be 750 pounds.

Advertising, as before, 100 pounds.

Extra 1 shilling 3 pence, 4 shillings, 5 shillings, about 16 pounds,
subtotal 866 pounds.

Leaving a profit for author and publisher of 1,134 pounds 0 shillings.

Whereas, in the printing of a thousand copies, the profits of author 350
pounds, and of publisher 277 pounds 5 shillings, equalled only 627
pounds 5 shillings.

Extra profit to author and publisher 506 pounds 15 shillings.

Here the public would gain, the author would gain, and the publisher
would gain; nor would any party lose; the profits of the trade would not
be quite so great, being 500 pounds, instead of 575 pounds; but it must
be remembered, that there are many who, not being subscribers, would
purchase the book as soon as they found that it was approved of--indeed,
there is no saying to what extent the sale might prove to be.

If any one publisher sold books at this price, the effect would be of
reducing the price of all publications, for either the authors must
apply to the cheap publisher, or the other publishers sell at the same
rate, or they would not sell at all.  Book-clubs and circulating
libraries would then rapidly break up, and we should obtain the great
desideratum of cheap literature.

And now that I have made my statement, what will be the consequence?
Why, people will say, "that's all very well, all very true"--and nobody
will take the trouble--the consequence is, that the public will go on,
paying through the nose as before--and if so, let it not grumble; as it
has no one to thank but itself for it.  [See Note 4.]

The paper and printing in America is, generally speaking, so very
inferior, that the books are really not worth binding, and are torn up
or thrown away after they are read--not that they cannot print well; for
at Boston particularly they turn out very excellent workmanship.  Mr
Prescott's "_Ferdinand and Isabella_", is a very good specimen, and so
are many of the Bibles and Prayer books.  In consequence of their own
bad printing, and the tax upon English books, there are very few
libraries in America: and in this point, the American government should
make some alteration, as it will be beneficial to both countries.  The
English editions, if sent over, would not interfere with the sale of
their cheap editions, and it would enable the American gentlemen to
collect libraries.  The duty, at present, is twenty-six cents per pound,
on books in boards, and thirty cents upon bound-books.

Now, with the exception of school books, upon which the duty should be
retained, this duty should be very much reduced.

At present, all books published prior to 1775, are admitted upon a
reduced duty of five cents.  This date should be extended to 1810, or
1815, and illustrated works should also be admitted upon the reduced
duty.  It would be a bonus to the Americans who wish to have libraries,
and some advantage to the English booksellers.

I cannot dismiss this subject without pointing out a most dishonest
practice, which has latterly been resorted to in the United States, and
which a copyright only, I am afraid, can prevent the continuance of.
Works which have become standard authority in England, on account of the
purity of their Christian principles, are republished in America with
whole pages altered, advantage being taken of the great reputation of
the orthodox writers, to disseminate Unitarian and Socinian principles.
A friend of mine, residing in Halifax, Nova Scotia, sent to a religious
book society at New York for a number of works, as presents to the
children attending the Sunday school.  He did not examine them, having
before read the works in England, and well knowing what ought to have
been the contents of each.

To his surprise, the parents came to him a few days afterwards to return
the books, stating that they presumed that he could not be aware of the
nature of their contents; and on examination, he found that he had been
circulating Unitarian principles among the children, instead of those
which he had wished to inculcate.  [See Note 5.]

The press of America, as I have described it, is all powerful; but still
it must be borne in mind, that it is but the slave of the majority;
which, in its turn, it dare not oppose.

Such is its tyranny, that it is the dread of the whole community.  No
one can--no one dare--oppose it; whosoever falls under its displeasure,
be he as innocent and as pure as man can be, his doom is sealed.  But
this power is only delegated by the will of the majority, for let any
author in America oppose that will, and he is denounced.  You must
drink, you must write, not according to your own opinions, or your own
thoughts, but as the majority will.  [See Note 6.]

Mr Tocqueville observes, "I know no country in which there is so little
true independence of mind, and freedom of discussion, as in America."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  Miss Martineau talks of Dr Follett as one of the greatest men
in America.  I was surprised at this, as I never heard of his name, so I
inquired--"Who is Dr Follett?"--"I don't know."--"Do you know Dr
Follett?"--"Never heard of him."--"Do you?"--"No."  I asked so many
people that at last I became quite tired; at last I found a man who knew
him, his answer was--"Oh, yes; he's an _Abolitionist_!"  As the American
critic justly observes, "He shines in the future pages of his grateful
guest."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  The International Copyright Question.

One of the most important questions, upon principle, that ever was
mooted, has for some time placed in juxtaposition the various editors of
the corps critical, accordingly as their interests or feelings have been
worked upon.  Our chief object in these remarks is to hold up to the
scorn and derision that it richly merits, the assumption of an editor,
that an author has no right to the emanations of his own mind--to the
productions of his own pen.  We do not mean to answer the many and gross
absurdities--which this talented gentleman's sophistry has palmed upon
the public,--it would be a work of supererogation, inasmuch as his `airy
vision' has already been completely `dissolved' by the breath of that
eminent gentleman, well known to us, who has so completely annihilated
the wrong which he is so anxious to continue.  But the shameful
assumption that a writer, universally allowed to be the worst paid
artist in creation, should not have--is not entitled to have, by every
principle--of courtesy and honour, a sole and undivided right to, and
in, his own productions--is so monstrous, that every editor imbued with
those feelings, which through life, should be the rule of his conduct,
is in duty bound to come forward and express his dissent from such a
doctrine, and his abhorrence of a principle so flagitious.

"We avail ourselves of the opportunity this number affords of upholding
the poor author's right, of censuring the greedy spoliation of
publishing tribe, who would live, batten, and fatten upon the despoiled
labours of those whom their piracy starves--snatching the scanty crust
from their needy mouths to pamper their own insatiate maws.

"This matter lies between the publisher and the author.  The author
claims a right to his own productions, wherever they may be.  The
publishers, like the Cornwall wreckers, say no, the moment your labours
touch our fatal shore they are ours; you have no right to them, no title
in them.  Good heavens! shall such a cruel despoliation be permitted!
The publishers, with consummate cunning, turn to the public, and
virtually say, support us in our theft, and we will share the spoil with
you; we will give you standard works at a price immeasurably below their
value.  As well might a thief, brought before the honest and worthy
recorder say: If your honour will wink at the crime, you will make me a
public benefactor, for whilst I rob one man of an hundred watches, I can
sell them to an hundred persons for one-third of their prime cost; and
thus injure one and benefit a hundred, you shall have one very cheap.
What would this recorder say?  He would say, the crime is apparent, and
I spurn with indignation and contempt your offer to part with to me that
which is not your own.  And should not this be the reply of the public
to the publishers?  Yes, and it will be too.  And the vampires who have
so long lived upon the spirits of authors, will have tax their own to
yield themselves support."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 3.  I ought here to remark, that the authors are much injured by
the present system.  It having been satisfactorily proved, that a
three-volume work is the only one that can be published at the minimum
of expense, and the magnum of profits, no publisher likes to publish any
other.  There is the same expense in advertising, etcetera, a two
volume, or a one octavo book, as a three.  The author, therefore, has to
spin out to three volumes, whether he has matter or not; and that is the
reason why the second volume, like the fourth act of a five act play,
is, generally speaking, so very heavy.  Publishers, now-a-days, measure
works with a foot-rule, as the critic did in Sterne.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 4.  The members of the peerage and baronetage of Great Britain, the
members of the untitled aristocracy--the staff officers of the army and
navy--the members of the different clubs--are each of them sufficiently
numerous to effect this object; and if any subscription was opened, it
could not fail of being filled up.

Note 5.  One of those works was Abbot's `Young Christian', or some other
work by that author.

Note 6.  Indeed, one cannot help being reminded of what Beaumarchais
makes Figaro say upon the liberty of the press in another country.  "On
me dit que pendant ma retraite economique il s'est etabli dans Madrid un
systeme de liberte sur la vente des productions, qui s'etend meme a
celles de la presse; et, pourvu que je parle dans mes ecrits, ni de
l'autorite, ni du culte, ni de la politique, ni de la morale, ni des
gens en place, ni des corps en credit, ni de l'opera, ni des autres
spectacles, ni de personne qui tient a quelque chose, je puis tout
imprimer _librement_; sous l'inspection de _deux ou trois censeurs_."



VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE MISSISSIPPI.

I have headed this chapter with the name of the river which flows
between the principal States in which the society I am about to depict
is to be found; but, at the same time, there are other southern States,
such as Alabama and Georgia, which must be included.  I shall attempt to
draw the line as clearly as I can, for although the territory
comprehended is enormous, the population is not one-third of that of the
United States, and it would be a great injustice if the description of
the society I am about to enter into should be supposed to refer to that
of the States in general.  It is indeed most peculiar, and arising frow
circumstances which will induce me to refer back, that the causes may be
explained to the reader.  Never, perhaps, in the records of nations was
there an instance of a century of such unvarying and unmitigated crime
as is to be collected from the history of the turbulent and
blood-stained Mississippi.  The stream itself appears as if appropriate
for the deeds which have been committed.  It is not like most rivers,
beautiful to the sight, bestowing fertility in its course; not one that
the eye loves to dwell upon as it sweeps along, nor can you wander on
its bank, or trust yourself without danger to its stream.  It is a
furious, rapid, desolating torrent, loaded with alluvial soil; and few
of those who are received into its waters ever rise again, or can
support themselves long on its surface without assistance from some
friendly log.  It contains the coarsest and most uneatable of fish, such
as the cat-fish and such genus, and, as you descend, its banks are
occupied with the fetid alligator, while the panther basks at its edge
in the cane-brakes, almost impervious to man.  Pouring its impetuous
waters through wild tracks, covered with trees of little value except
for firewood, it sweeps down whole forests in its course, which
disappear in tumultuous confusion, whirled away by the stream now loaded
with the masses of soil which nourished their roots, often blocking up
and changing for a time the channel of the river, which, as if in anger
at its being opposed, inundates and devastates the whole country round;
and as soon as it forces its way through its former channel, plants in
every direction the uprooted monarchs of the forest (upon whose branches
the bird will never again perch, or the racoon, the opossum or the
squirrel, climb) as traps to the adventurous navigators of its waters by
steam, who, borne down upon these concealed dangers which pierce through
the planks, very often have not time to steer for and gain the shore
before they sink to the bottom.  There are no pleasing associations
connected with the great common sewer of the western America, which
pours out its mud into the Mexican Gulf, polluting the clear blue sea
for many miles beyond its mouth.  It is a river of desolation; and
instead of reminding you, like other beautiful rivers, of an angel which
has descended for the benefit of man, you imagine it a devil, whose
energies have been only overcome by the wonderful power of steam.

The early history of the Mississippi is one of piracy and buccaneering;
its mouths were frequented by these marauders, as in the bayous and
creeks they found protection and concealment for themselves and their
ill-gotten wealth.  Even until after the war of 1814 these sea-robbers
still to a certain extent flourished, and the name of Lafitte, the last
of their leaders, is deservedly renowned for courage and for crime; his
vessels were usually secreted in the land-locked bay of Barataria, to
the westward of the mouth of the river.  They were, however, soon
extirpated by the American government.  The language of the adjacent
States is still adulterated with the slang of those scoundrels, proving
how short a period it is since they disappeared, and how they must have
mixed up with the reckless population, whose head-quarters were then at
the mouth of the river.

But as the hunting-grounds of Western Virginia, Kentucky, and the
northern banks of the Ohio, were gradually wrested from the Shawnee
Indians, the population became more dense, and the Mississippi itself
became the means of communication and of barter with the more northern
tribes.  Then another race of men made their appearance, and flourished
for half a century, varying indeed in employment, but in other respects
little better than the buccaneers and pirates, in whose ranks they were
probably first enlisted.  These were the boatmen of the Mississippi, who
with incredible fatigue forced their "keels" with poles against the
current, working against the stream with the cargoes entrusted to their
care by the merchants of New Orleans, labouring for many months before
they arrive at their destination, and returning with the rapid current
in as many days as it required weeks for them to ascend.  This was a
service of great danger and difficulty, requiring men of iron frame and
undaunted resolution: they had to contend not only with the stream, but,
when they ascended the Ohio, with the Indians, who, taking up the most
favourable positions, either poured down the contents of their rifles
into the boat as she passed; or, taking advantage of the dense fog,
boarded them in their canoes, indiscriminate slaughter being the
invariable result of the boatmen having allowed themselves to be
surprised.  In these men was to be found, as there often is in the most
unprincipled, one redeeming quality (independent of courage and
perseverance), which was, that they were, generally speaking,
unscrupulously honest to their employers, although they made little
ceremony of appropriating to their own use the property, or, if
necessary, of taking the life any other parties.  Wild, indeed, are the
stories which are still remembered of the deeds of courage, and also of
the fearful crimes committed by these men, on a river which never gives
up its dead.  I say still remembered, for in a new country they readily
forget the past, and only look forward to the future, whereas in an old
country the case is nearly the reverse--we love to recur to tradition,
and luxuriate in the dim records of history.

The following description of the employment of this class of people is
from the pen of an anonymous American author:--

"There is something inexplicable in the fact, there could be men found,
for ordinary wages, who would abandon the systematic but not laborious
pursuits of agriculture to follow a life, of all others except that of
the soldier, distinguished by the greatest exposure and privation.  The
occupation of a boatman was more calculated to destroy the constitution
and to shorten life than any other business.  In ascending the river it
was a continued series of toil, rendered more irksome by the snail-like
rate at which they moved.  The boat was propelled by poles, against
which the shoulder was placed, and the whole strength and skill of the
individual were applied in this manner.  As the boatmen moved along the
running board, with their heads nearly touching the plank on which they
walked, the effect produced on the mind of an observer was similar to
that on beholding the ox rocking before an overloaded cart.  Their
bodies, naked to their waist for the purpose of moving with greater ease
and of enjoying the breeze of the river, were exposed to the burning
suns of summer and to the rains of autumn.  After a hard day's push they
would take their `fillee,' or ration of whisky, and, having swallowed a
miserable supper of meat half burnt, and of bread half baked, stretched
themselves, without covering, on the deck, and slumber till the
steersman's call invited them to the morning `fillee.'  Notwithstanding
this, the boatman's life had charms as irresistible as those presented
by the splendid illusions of the stage.  Sons abandoned the comfortable
farms of their fathers, and apprentices fled from the service of their
masters.  There was a captivation in the idea of `going down the river,'
and the `youthful boatman who had pushed a keel' from New Orleans felt
all the pride of a young merchant after his first voyage to an English
sea-port.  From an exclusive association together they had formed a kind
of slang peculiar to themselves; and from the constant exercise of wit
with the squatters on shore, and crews of other boats, they acquired a
quickness and smartness of vulgar retort that was quite amusing.  The
frequent battles they were engaged in with the boatmen of different
parts of the river, and with the less civilised inhabitants of the lower
Ohio and Mississippi, invested them with that furious reputation which
has made them spoken of throughout Europe.

"On board of the boats thus navigated our merchants entrusted valuable
cargoes, without insurance, and with no other guarantee than the receipt
of the steersman, who possessed no property but his boat; and the
confidence so reposed was seldom abused."

Every class of men has its hero, as those always will be, who, from
energy of character and natural endowment, are superior to their
fellows.  The most remarkable person among these people was one _Mike
Fink_, who was their acknowledged leader for many years.  His fame was
established from New Orleans to Pittsburg.  He was endowed with gigantic
strength, courage, and presence of mind--his rifle was unerring, and his
conscience never troubled his repose.  Every one was afraid of him;
every one was anxious to be on good terms with him, for he was a regular
freebooter; and although he spared his friends, he gave no quarter to
the lives or properties of others.  Mike Fink was not originally a
boatmen: at an early age he had enlisted in the company of scouts,
another variety of employment produced by circumstances--a species of
solitary rangers employed by the American government, and acting as
spies, to watch the motions of the Indians on the frontiers.  This
peculiar service is thus described by the author I have before quoted:--

"At that time, Pittsburg was on the extreme verge of white population,
and the spies, who were constantly employed, generally extended their
_reconnaissance_ forty or fifty miles to the west of this post.  They
went out singly, lived as did the Indian, and in every respect became
perfectly assimilated in habits, taste, and feeling, with the red men of
the desert.  A kind of border warfare was kept up, and the scout thought
it as praiseworthy to bring in the scalp of a Shawnee, as the skin of a
panther.  He would remain in the woods for weeks together, using parched
corn for bread, and depending on his rifle for his meat--and slept at
night in perfect comfort, rolled in his blanket."

In this service Mike Fink acquired a great reputation for coolness and
courage, and many are the stories told of his adventures with the
Indians.  It has been incontestably proved, that the white man, when
accustomed to the woods, is much more acute than the Indian himself in
that woodcraft of every species, in which the Indian is supposed to be
such an adept; such as discovering a trail by the print of a mocassin,
by the breaking of twigs, laying of the grass, etcetera, and in the
practice of the rifle he is very superior.  As a proof of Fink's
dexterity with his rifle, he is said one day, as they were descending
the Ohio in their boat, to have laid a wager, and won it, that he would
from mid-stream with his rifle balls cut off at the stumps the tails of
five pigs which were feeding on the banks.  One story relative to Mike
Fink, when he was employed as a scout, will be interesting to the
reader.

"As he was creeping along one morning, with the stealthy tread of a cat,
his eye fell upon a beautiful buck browsing on the edge of a barren
spot, three hundred yards distant.  The temptation was too strong for
the woodsman, and he resolved to have a shot at every hazard.  Repriming
his gun, and picking his flint, he made his approaches in the usual
noiseless manner.  But the moment he reached the spot from which he
meant to take his aim, he observed a large savage, intent upon the same
object, advancing from a direction a little different from his own.
Mike shrunk behind a tree with the quickness of thought, and keeping his
eye fixed on the hunter, waited the result with patience.  In a few
moments the Indian halted within fifty paces, and levelled his piece at
the deer.  In the meanwhile Mike presented his rifle at the body of the
savage, and at the moment the smoke issued from the gun of the latter,
the bullet of Fink passed through the red man's breast.  He uttered a
yell, and fell dead at the same instant with the deer.  Mike re-loaded
his rifle, and remained in his covert for some minutes to ascertain
whether there were more enemies at hand.  He then stepped up to the
prostrate savage, and having satisfied himself that life was
extinguished, turned his attention to the buck, and took from the
carcase those pieces suited to the process of jerking."

As the country filled up the Indians retreated, and the corps of scouts
was abolished: but after a life of excitement in the woods, they were
unfitted for a settled occupation.  Some of them joined the Indians,
others, and among them Mike Finn, enrolled themselves among the
fraternity of boatmen on the Mississippi.

The death of Mike Fink was befitting his life.  One of his very common
exploits with his rifle was hitting for a wager, at thirty yards
distance, a small tin pot, used by the boatmen, which was put on the
head of another man.  Such was his reputation, that no one hardly
objected to being placed in this precarious situation.  It is even said
that his wife, that is, his _Mississippi_ wife, was accustomed to stand
the fire; this feat was always performed for a wager of a quart of
spirits, made by some stranger, and was a source of obtaining the
necessary supplies.  One day the wager was made as usual, and a man with
whom Mike had at one time been at variance (although the feud was now
supposed to have been forgotten) was the party who consented that the
pot should be placed on his head.  Whether it was that Mike was not
quite sober, or that he retained his ill-will towards the man, certain
it is, that in this instance, instead of his hitting the mark, his
bullet went below it and through the brain of the man, who instantly
fell dead; but his brother, who was standing by, and probably suspecting
treachery, had his loaded rifle in his hand, levelled, fired, and in a
second the soul of Mike was despatched after that of his victim.

Here ended the history of Mike Fink, Esq.

The invention of the steam-engine, and its application to nautical
purposes, deprived the boatmen of employment; they were again thrown
upon their own resources, and as it may be supposed, did not much assist
in the amelioration of Mississippi society.  The country gradually
increased its population, but as a majority of those who migrated were
of the worst description, being composed of those who had fled from the
more settled States to escape the punishment due to their crimes, it may
be said, that so far from improving, the morals of the Mississippi
became worse, as the mean and paltry knave, the swindler, and the forger
were now mingled up with the more daring spirits, producing a more
complicated and varied class of crime than before.  The steam-boats were
soon crowded by a description of people who were termed gamblers, as
such was their ostensible profession, although they were ready for any
crime which might offer an advantage to them, [see note 1] and the
increase of commerce and constant inpouring of populations daily offer
to them some new dupe for their villainy.  The state of society was much
worse than before--the knife was substituted for the rifle, and the
river buried many a secret of atrocious murder.  To prove the extent to
which these deeds of horror were perpetrated, I shall give to the
English reader, in as succinct a form as I can, the history of John
Murel, the land pirate, as he was termed.  There is an octavo volume,
published in the United States, giving a whole statement of the affair;
it was not until the year 1833 that it was exposed, and Murel sent to
the Penitentiary.  Murel was at the head of a large band, who had joined
under his directions, for the purposes of stealing horses and negroes in
the southern States, and of passing counterfeit money.  He appears to
have been a most dexterous as well as consummate villain.  When he
travelled, his usual disguise was that of an itinerant preacher; and it
is said that his discourses were very "soul moving"--interesting the
hearers so much that they forgot to look after their horses, which were
carried away by his confederates while he was preaching.  But the
stealing of horses in one State, and selling them in another, was but a
small portion of their business; the most lucrative was the enticing
slaves to run away from their masters, that they might sell them in some
other quarter.  This was arranged as follows; they would tell a negro
that if he would run away from his master, and allow them to sell him,
he should receive a portion of the money paid for him, and that upon his
return to them a second time they would send him to a free State, where
he would be safe.  The poor wretches complied with this request, hoping
to obtain money and freedom; they would be sold to another master, and
run away again to their employers; sometimes they would be sold in this
manner three or four times until they had realised three or four
thousand dollars by them; but as, after this, there was fear of
detection, the usual custom was to get rid of the only witness that
could be produced against them, which was the negro himself, by
murdering him, and throwing his body into the Mississippi.  Even if it
was established that they had stolen a negro before he was murdered,
they were always prepared to evade punishment, for they concealed the
negro who had run away until he was advertised, and a reward offered to
any man who would catch him.  An advertisement of this kind warrants the
person to take the property, if found, and then the negro becomes a
property in trust.  When, therefore, they sold the negro, it only became
a breach of trust, not stealing; and for a breach of trust, the owner of
the property can only have redress by a civil action, which was useless,
as the damages were never paid.  It may be inquired, how it was that
Murel escaped Lynch law under such circumstances?  This will be easily
understood when it is stated that he had more than a thousand sworn
confederates, all ready at a moment's notice to support any of the gang
who might be in trouble.  The names of all the principal confederates of
Murel were obtained from himself, in a manner which I shall presently
explain.  The gang was composed of two classes: the heads or council, as
they were called, who planned and concerted but seldom acted; they
amounted to about four hundred.  The other class were the active agents,
and were termed Strikers, and amounted to about six hundred and fifty.
These were the tools in the hands of the others; they ran all the risk,
and received but a small proportion of the money; they were in the power
of the leaders of the gang, who would sacrifice them at any time by
handing them over to justice, or sinking their bodies in the
Mississippi.  The general rendezvous of this gang of miscreants was on
the Arkansaw side of the river, where they concealed their negroes in
the morasses and cane-brakes.

The depredations of this extensive combination were severely felt: but
so well were their plans arranged, that although Murel, who was always
active, was everywhere suspected, there was no proof to be obtained.  It
so happened, however, that a young man of the name of Stewart, who was
looking after two slaves which Murel had decoyed away, fell in with him
and obtained his confidence, took the oath, and was admitted into the
gang as one of the general council.  By this means all was discovered;
for Stewart turned traitor, although he had taken the oath, and, having
obtained every information, exposed the whole concern, the names of all
the parties, and finally succeeded in bringing home sufficient evidence
against Murel, to procure his conviction and sentence to the
Penitentiary; where he now is.  (Murel was sentenced to fourteen years'
imprisonment, but as he will, upon the expiration of his time, be
immediately prosecuted and sentenced again for similar deeds in other
States, he will remain imprisoned for life).  So many people who were
supposed to be honest, and bore a respectable name in the different
States, were found to be among the list of the Grand Council as
published by Stewart, that every attempt was made to throw discredit
upon his assertions--his character was vilified, and more than one
attempt was made to assassinate him.  He was obliged to quit the
Southern States in consequence.  It is, however, now well ascertained to
have been all true; and although some blame Mr Stewart for having
violated his oath, they no longer attempt to deny that his revelations
were not correct.  To understand, to the full amount, the enormities
committed by this miscreant and his gang, the reader must read the whole
account published at New York; I will however just quote one or two
portions of Murel's confessions to Mr Stewart, made to him when they
were journeying together.  I ought to have observed, that the ultimate
intentions of Murel and his associates were by his own account on a very
extended scale; having no less an object in view than raising the blacks
against the whites, taking possession of, and plundering New Orleans,
and making themselves possessors of the territory.  The following are a
few extracts from the published work:--

"I collected all my friends about New Orleans at one of our friend's
houses in that place, and we sat in council three days before we got all
our plans to our notion; we then determined to undertake the rebellion
at every hazard, and make as many friends as we could for that purpose.
Every man's business being assigned him, I started to Natchez on foot,
having sold my horse in New Orleans, with the intention of stealing
another after I started: I walked four days, and no opportunity offered
for me to get a horse.  The fifth day, about twelve, I had become tired,
and stopped at a creek to get some water and rest a little.  While I was
sitting on a log, looking down the road the way that I had come, a man
came in sight riding on a good-looking horse.  The very moment I saw
him, I was determined to have his horse, if he was in the garb of a
traveller.  He rode up, and I saw from his equipage that he was a
traveller.  I arose from a seat, and drew an elegant rifle pistol on him
and ordered him to dismount.  He did so, and I took his horse by the
bridle and pointed down the creek, and ordered him to walk before me.
He went a few hundred yards and stopped.  I hitched his horse, and then
made him undress himself, all to his shirt and drawers, and ordered him
to turn his back to me.  He said, "If you are determined to kill me, let
me have time to pray before I die."  I told him I had no time to hear
him pray.  He turned round and dropped on his knees, and I shot him
through the back of the head.  I ripped open his belly and took out his
entrails, and sunk him in the creek.  I then searched his pockets, and
found four hundred dollars and thirty-seven cents, and a number of
papers that I did not take time to examine.  I sunk the pocket-book and
papers, and his hat, in the creek.  His boots were brand new, and fitted
me genteelly; and I put them on and sunk my old shoes in the creek, to
atone for them.  I rolled up his clothes and put them into his
portmanteau, as they were brand new cloth of the best quality.  I
mounted as fine a horse as ever I straddled, and directed my course for
Natchez in much better style than I had been for the last five days.

"Myself and a fellow by the name of Crenshaw gathered four good horses
and started for Georgia.  We got in company with a young South Carolina
just before we got to Cumberland mountain, and Crenshaw soon knew all
about his business.  He had been to Tennessee to buy a drove of hogs,
but when he got there pork was dearer than he had calculated, and he
declined purchasing.  We concluded he was a prize.  Crenshaw winked at
me; I understood his idea.  Crenshaw had travelled the road before, but
I never had.  We had travelled several miles on the mountain, when he
passed near a great precipice; just before we passed it Crenshaw asked
me for my whip, which had a pound of lead in the butt; I handed it to
him, and he rode up by the side of the South Carolinian, and gave him a
blow on the side of the head and tumbled him from his horse; we lit from
our horses and fingered his pockets; we got twelve hundred and sixty-two
dollars.  Crenshaw said he knew of a place to hide him, and he gathered
him under his arms, and I by his feet, and conveyed him to a deep
crevice in the brow of the precipice, and tumbled him into it, he went
out of sight; we then tumbled in his saddle, and took his horse with us,
which was worth two hundred dollars.

"We were detained a few days, and during that time our friend went to a
little village in the neighbourhood and saw the negro advertised, and a
description of the two men of whom he had been purchased, and giving his
suspicions of the men.  It was rather squally times, but any port in a
storm: we took the negro that night on the bank of a creek which runs by
the farm of our friend, and Crenshaw shot him through the head.  We took
out his entrails and sunk him in the creek.

"He sold him the third time on Arkansaw river for five hundred dollars;
and then stole him and delivered him into the hand of his friend, who
conducted him to a swamp, and veiled the tragic scene and got the last
gleanings and sacred pledge of secrecy, as a game of that kind will not
do unless it ends in a mystery to all but the fraternity.  He sold that
negro for two thousand dollars, and then put him for ever out of the
reach of all pursuers; and they can never graze him unless they can find
the negro; and that they cannot do, for his carcass has fed many a
tortoise and cat-fish before this time, and the frogs have sung this
many a long day to the silent repose of his skeleton."

It will be observed that in the account of his murders, by the
cold-blooded villain, whenever he conceals his victim in the water, he
takes out the entrails.  This is because when the entrails are removed,
the body will not rise again to the surface from the generation of gas,
occasioned by putrefaction.

As it is but five years since the conviction of Murel, it may be
supposed that society cannot be much improved in so short a period.  But
five years is a long period, as I have before observed in American
history; and some improvement has already taken place, as I shall
hereafter show; still the state of things at present is most lamentable,
as the reader will acknowledge, when he has heard the facts which I have
collected.

The two great causes of the present lawless state of society in the
South are a mistaken notion of physical courage, and a total want of
moral courage.  Fiery and choleric in his disposition, intemperate in
his habits, and worked upon by the peculiarity of the climate, the
Southerner is always ready to enter into a quarrel, and prepared with
pistol and Bowie-knife to defend himself.  For the latter he cannot well
be blamed, for in the present state of things, it is only being prepared
in self-defence; but at the same time, the weapons being at hand, is one
great cause of such frequent bloodshed.  To give the lie, or to use
opprobrious language, is considered sufficient justification for using
the knife; and as public opinion is on the side of the party who thus
retaliates on an affront, there is no appeal to law, as if there was,
the majority would never permit the law to be put in force: the
consequence is, that if a man is occasionally tried for murder, if any
witness will come forward to prove that the party murdered made use of
an offensive epithet to the prisoner, (and there are always to be found
plenty of people to do this act of kindness,) he is invariably
acquitted.  The law therefore being impotent, is hardly ever resorted
to; every man takes the law into his own hands, and upon the least
affront, blood is certain to be shed.  Strange to say, I have heard the
system of the South defended by very respectable individuals.  They say
that, taking summary measures at the time that the blood is up, is much
preferable to the general custom of fighting a duel the next day, which
is murder in cold blood; that this idea is supported by the laws of
England is certain, as it resolves murder into manslaughter.  But,
unfortunately, the argument is not borne out, from the simple fact, that
the quarrels do not [go away] with the cooling down of the blood, and if
not settled on the spot, they remain as feuds between the parties, and
revenge takes the place of anger; years will sometimes pass away, and
the insult or injury is never forgotten; and deliberate, cold-blooded
murder is the result; for there is no warning given.

When I was in Kentucky, a man walked up to Mr Prentice, the talented
editor of the Louisville Journal, and without a word passing, fired a
pistol at his head.  Fortunately the ball missed him; no notice was
taken of this attempt to murder.  But I have had many other examples of
this kind, for if you quarrel with a person and the affair is not
decided at once, it is considered perfectly justifiable to take your
revenge whenever you meet him, and in any way you can.  An American
gentleman told me that he happened to arrive at a town in Georgia with a
friend of his, who went with him to the post-office for letters.  This
person had had a quarrel with another who resided in the town; but they
had not met with each other for seven years.  The town resident was
looking out of his window, when they went to the post-office on the
opposite side of the street; he recognised his enemy, and closing his
shutters that he might not be seen, passed the muzzle of his rifle
between them, and shot him dead, as he was with his back to him paying
for his letters.

But a more curious instance of this custom was narrated to me by an
eye-witness; a certain general had a feud with another person, and it
was perfectly understood that they were to fight when they met.  It so
happened, that the general had agreed to dine at the public table of the
principal hotel in the town with some friends.  When the gong sounded,
and they all hastened in, as they do, to take their places, he found his
antagonist seated with a party of his own friends directly opposite to
him.  Both their pistols were out in a moment, and were presented.
"Would you prefer dining first?" said the general, who was remarkable
for coolness and presence of mind.  "I have no objection," replied the
other, and the pistols were withdrawn.  Some observation, however,
occasioned the pistols to be again produced before the dinner was over;
and then the friends interfered, each party removing so many feet above
and below, so as to separate them.

A day or two afterwards they again met at the corner of a street, and
the weapons were produced; but the general, who had some important
business to transact, said, "I believe, sir, I can, and you know I can,
cock a pistol as soon as any man.  I give you your choice; shall it be
now, or at some future meeting?"--"At some future meeting then," replied
his antagonist, "for, to confess the truth, general, I should like to
_have you at an advantage_; that is to say, I should like to shoot you,
when your back is turned."

I have observed that there is a total want of moral courage on the part
of the more respectable population, who will quietly express their
horror and disgust at such scenes, but who will never interfere, if the
most barbarous murder is committed close to where they are standing.  I
spoke to many gentlemen on this subject, expressing my surprise; the
invariable answer was, "If we interfered we should only hurt ourselves,
and do no good; in all probability we should have the quarrel fixed upon
ourselves, and risk our own lives, for a man whom we neither know nor
care about."

In one case only, the Southerners hang together, which is, if the
quarrel is with a stranger.  Should the stranger have the best of it,
all the worse for him; for, by their own understanding, the stranger
must be _whipped_.  (Whipping is the term for being conquered, whether
the contest is with or without weapons.)  No stranger can therefore
escape, if he gets into a quarrel; although they fight with each other,
on this point the Southerners are all agreed, and there is no chance of
escape.

A striking proof of indifference to human life shown by the authorities
took place when I was in the West.  Colonel C, returning with his
regiment from Florida, passed through a town in the State of Tennessee.
In a quarrel, one of his soldiers murdered a citizen; and the colonel,
who respected the laws, immediately sent the soldier as a prisoner, with
a corporal's guard, to be handed over to the authorities.  The
authorities returned their thanks to the colonel for his kind attention,
were "very much obliged to him: but as for the man, _they did not want
him_," so the soldier marched off with the rest of the detachment.

It must not be supposed that in this representation of society, I
chiefly refer to the humbler classes.  I refer to those who are
considered as [gentlemen], and who, if wealth, and public employment may
be said to constitute gentility, are the gentlemen of the States
bordering on the Mississippi.  My readers may perhaps recollect a
circumstance which occurred but a short time ago, when a member of the
House of Legislature in the State of Arkansas, who had a feud with the
Speaker of the House, upon his entering the hall, was rushed upon by the
Speaker, and stabbed to the heart with a Bowie-knife.  What was the
result?  What steps were taken on the committal of such a foul murder in
the very hall of legislature! such a precedent of example shown to the
State, by one of its most important members?  The following American
account, will show what law, what justice, and what a jury is to be
found in this region of unprecedented barbarism!

"A MOST DISGRACEFUL AFFAIR.

"Our readers will perhaps recollect the circumstance which occurred in
the legislature of Arkansas, when a member was killed by the Speaker.
The Little Rock Gazette gives the following picture of the state of
public feeling in that most civilised country:--

"Three days had elapsed before the constituted authorities took any
notice of this terrible, this murderous deed, and not even then until a
relation of the murdered Anthony had demanded a warrant for the
apprehension of Wilson.  Several days then elapsed before he was brought
before an examining court; he then, in a carriage and four, came to the
place appointed for his trial.  Four or five days were employed in the
examination of witnesses, and never was a clearer case of murder proved
than on that occasion.  Notwithstanding, the court (Justice Brown
dissenting) admitted Wilson to bail, and positively refused that the
prosecuting attorney for the State should introduce the law, to show
that it was not a bailable case, or even to hear an argument from him,
and the counsel associated with him to prosecute Wilson for the murder.

"At the time appointed for the session of the Circuit Court, Wilson
appeared agreeably to his recognisance; a motion was made by Wilson's
counsel for a change of _venue_, founded on the affidavits of Wilson and
two other men.  One stated in his affidavit, that `nine-tenths of the
people of Pulaski had made up and expressed their opinions, and that
therefore it would be unsafe for Wilson to be tried in Pulaski;' and the
other, that, `from the repeated occurrence of similar acts within the
last four or five years in this country, the people were disposed to act
rigidly, and that it would be unsafe for Wilson to be tried in Pulaski.'
The court thereupon removed Wilson to Saline county, and ordered the
sheriff to take Wilson into custody, and deliver him over to the sheriff
of Saline county.

"The sheriff of Pulaski never confined Wilson one minute, but permitted
him to go where he pleased, without a guard or any restraint imposed
upon him whatever.  On his way to Saline he entertained him freely at
his own house, and the next day delivered him over to the sheriff of
that county, who conducted the prisoner to the debtors' room in the jail
and gave him the key, so that everybody else had free egress and ingress
at all times.  Wilson invited everybody to call on him, and he wished to
see his friends, and his room was crowded with visitors, who called to
drink grog and laugh and talk with him.  But this theatre was not
sufficiently large for this purpose; he afterwards visited the
dram-shops, where he freely treated all that would partake with him, and
went fishing and hunting with others at pleasure, and entirely without
restraint; he also ate at the same table with the judge while on trial.

"When the court met at Saline, Wilson was put on his trial.  Several
days were occupied in examining witnesses in the case; after the
examination was closed, while Colonel Taylor was engaged in a very able,
lucid, and argumentative speech on the part of the prosecution, some man
collected a parcel of the rabble, and came within a few yards of the
court-house door, and bawled, in a loud voice, `Part them! part them!'
Everybody supposed there was an affray, and ran to the door and windows
to see, and behold there was nothing more than the man and the rabble he
had collected round him for the purpose of annoying Colonel Taylor while
speaking.  A few minutes afterwards this same person brought a horse
near the court-house door, and commenced crying the horse, as though he
were for sale, and continued for ten or fifteen minutes to ride before
the court-house door, crying the horse in a loud and boisterous tone of
voice.  The judge sat as a silent listener to the indignity thus offered
the court and counsel by this man, without interposing his authority.

"To show the depravity of the times and the people, after the verdict
had been delivered by the jury, and the court informed Wilson that he
was discharged, there was a rush towards him; some seized him by the
hand, some by the arm, and there was great and loud rejoicing and
exultation directly in the presence of the court, and Wilson told the
sheriff to take the jury to a grocery that he might treat them, and
invited every body that chose to go.  The house was soon filled to
overflowing, and it is much to be regretted that some men who have held
a good standing in society followed the crowd to the grocery and partook
of Wilson's treat.  The rejoicing was kept up till near supper time;
but, to cap the climax, soon after supper was over a majority of the
jury, together with many others, went to the room that had been occupied
for several days by the friend and relation of the murdered Anthony, and
commenced a scene of the most ridiculous dancing (as it is believed) in
triumph for Wilson, and as a triumph over the feelings of the relation
of the departed Anthony.  The scene did not end here.  The party retired
to a dram-shop, and continued their rejoicings until about half after
ten o'clock.  They then collected a parcel of horns, trumpets, etcetera,
and marched through the streets blowing them till near day, when one of
the company rode his horse into the porch adjoining the room which was
occupied by the relation of the deceased.

"These are some of the facts that took place during the progress of the
trial, and after its close.  The whole proceedings have been conducted
more like a farce than anything else, and it is a disgrace to the
country in which this fatal, this horrible massacre has happened, that
there should be in it men so lost to every virtue, of feeling and
humanity, to sanction and give countenance to such a bloody deed.
Wilson's hand is now stained with the blood of a worthy and unoffending
man.  The seal of disapprobation must for ever rest upon him in the
estimation of the honest, well-meaning portion of the community.
Humanity shudders at the bloody deed, and ages cannot wipe away the
stain which he has brought upon his country.  Arkansas, therefore, the
mock of the other States on account of the frequent murders and
assassinations which have marked her character, has now to be branded
with the stain of this horrible, this murderous deed, rendered still
more odious from the circumstance that a jury of twelve men should have
rendered a verdict of acquittal contrary to law and evidence."

To quote the numerous instances of violation of all law and justice in
these new States would require volumes.  I will, however, support my
evidence with that of Miss Martineau, who, speaking of the State of
Alabama, says--"It is certainly the place to become rich in, but the
state of society is fearful.  One of my hosts, a man of great
good-nature, as he shows in the treatment of his slaves and in his
family relations, had been stabbed in the back, in the reading-room of
the town, two years before, and no prosecution was instituted.  Another
of my hosts carried loaded pistols for a fortnight, just before I
arrived, knowing that he was lain in wait for by persons against whose
illegal practices he had given information to a magistrate, whose
carriage was therefore broken in pieces and thrown into the river.  A
lawyer, with whom we were in company one afternoon, was sent to take the
deposition of a dying man, who had been sitting with his family in the
shade, when he received three balls in the back from three men who took
aim at him from behind trees.  The tales of jail-breaking and rescue
were numberless; and a lady of Montgomery told me, that she had lived
there four years, during which time no day, she believed, had passed
without some one's life having been attempted either by duelling or
assassination."

The rapid increase of population in the Far West, and the many
respectable people who have lately migrated there, together with the
Texas having now become the refuge of those whose presence even the
Southern States will no longer tolerate, promise very soon to produce a
change.  The cities have already set the example by purifying
themselves.  Natchez, the lower town of which was a Pandemonium, has
cleansed herself to a very great extent.  Vicksburg has, by its salutary
Lynch law, relieved herself of the infamous gamblers, and New Orleans,
in whose streets murders were daily occurring, is now one of the safest
towns in the Union.

This regeneration in New Orleans was principally brought about by the
exertions of the English and American merchants from the Eastern States,
who established an effectual police, and having been promised support by
the State legislature, determined to make an example of the very first
party who should commit a murder.  It so happened, that the first person
who was guilty, was a Colonel or Mr Whittaker of Louisiana, a person
well connected, and of a wealthy family.  In a state of intoxication he
entered the bar of an hotel, and affronted at the bar-keeper not paying
immediate attention to his wishes, he rushed upon the unfortunate man,
and literally cut him to pieces with his heavy Bowie knife.

He was put in prison, tried and condemned.  Every effort was made to
save him, both by force and perseverance, but in vain.  Finding that he
must really suffer the penalty of the law, his friends, to avoid the
disgrace of a public execution, provided him with the means; and he
destroyed himself in the prison the night before his execution.  So
unexpected was this act of justice, that it created the greatest
sensation; it was looked upon as a legal murder; his body, being made
over to his relations, was escorted to his home with great parade; the
militia were turned out to receive it with military honours, and General
--, who set up for the governorship of Louisiana, pronounced the funeral
eulogy!!

But this decided and judicious step was attended with the best results;
and now that there is an active police, and it is known that a murderer
will be executed, you may safely walk the streets of New Orleans on the
darkest nights.

To show, however, how difficult it is to eradicate bad habits, a
gentleman told me that it being the custom when the Quadroon balls were
given at New Orleans, for the police to search every person on entering,
and taking away his Bowie-knife, the young man would resort to the
following contrivance.  The knives of a dozen, perhaps, were confided to
one, who remained outside; the others entered, and being searched were
passed; they then opened one of the ball-room windows, and let down a
string, to which the party left outside fastened all their knives as
well as his own; they were hauled up, he then entered himself, and each
person regained his knife.  The reason for these precautions being taken
by the police was, that the women being all of colour, their evidence
was not admissible in a court of justice; and no evidence could be
obtained from the young men, should a murder have been committed.

But although some of the towns have, as I have pointed out, effected a
great reformation, the state of society in general in these States is
still most lamentable; and there is little or no security for life and
property; and what is to be much deplored, the evil extends to other
States which otherwise would much sooner become civilised.

This arises from the Southern habits of migrating to the other States
during the unhealthy months.  During the rest of the year they remain on
their properties, living perhaps in a miserable log-house, and almost in
a state of nature, laying up dollars and attending carefully to their
business.  But as soon as the autumn comes, it is the time for holiday,
they dress themselves in their best clothes, and set off to amuse
themselves; spend their money and pass off for gentlemen.  Their resorts
are chiefly the State of Virginia, Kentucky, and Ohio; where the
springs, Cincinnati, Louisville, and other towns are crowded with them;
they pass their time in constant revelling, many of them being seldom
free from the effects of liquor; and I must say, that I never in my life
heard such awful swearing as many of them are guilty of.  Every sentence
is commenced with some tremendous oath, which really horrifies you; in
fact, although in the dress of gentlemen, in no other point can they lay
any pretensions to the title.  Of course, I am now speaking of the mass;
there are many exceptions, but even these go with the stream, and make
no efforts to resist it.  Content with not practising these vices
themselves, they have not the courage to protest against them in others.

In the Eastern States the use of the knife was opposed to general
feeling, as it is, or as I regret to say, as it _used_ to be in this
country.  I was passing down Broadway in New York, when a scoundrel of a
carman flogged with his whip a young Southern who had a lady under his
protection.  Justly irritated, and no match for the sturdy ruffian in
physical strength, the young man was so imprudent as to draw his knife,
and throw it Indian fashion; and for so doing, he was with difficulty
saved from the indignation of the people.

Ohio is chiefly populated by Eastern people; yet to my surprise when at
Cincinnati, a row took place in the theatre, Bowie-knives were drawn by
several.  I never had an idea that there was such a weapon worn there;
but as I afterwards discovered, they were worn in self defence, because
the Southerners carried them.  The same may be said of the States of
Virginia and Kentucky, which are really now in many portions of them
civilised States; but the regular inroad of the Southerners every year
keeps up a system, which would before this have very probably become
obsolete; but as it is, the duel at sight, and the knife, is resorted to
in these States, as well as in the Mississippi.  This lamentable state
of society must exist for some time yet, as civilisation progresses but
slowly in some of the slave States.  Some improvement has of late been
made, as I have pointed out; but it is chiefly the lower class of
miscreants who have been rooted out, not the _gentleman assassins_; for
I can give them no other title.

The women of the south appear to have their passions equally violent
with the men.  When I was at Louisville, a married lady, for some
fancied affront, insisted upon her husband _whipping_ another gentlemen.
The husband not wishing to get a broken head, expostulated, upon which
she replied, that, if he did not, she would find some other gentleman to
do it for her.  The husband, who probably was aware that these services
are not without their reward, went accordingly, and had a turn-up in
obedience to the lady's wishes.

It appears to me, that it is the Southern ladies, and the ladies alone,
who can affect any reformation in these points.  They have great sway,
and if they were to form an association, and declare that they would not
marry, or admit into their company, any man who carried a Bowie-knife or
other weapons, that they would prevail, when nothing else will.  This
would be a glorious achievement, and I am convinced from the chivalry
towards women shown by the Southerners on every occasion, that they
might be prevailed upon by them to leave off customs so disgraceful, so
demoralising, and so incompatible with the true principles of honour and
Christianity.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  "_Jackson, Mississippi, Oct_. 18.

"Postscript.--_By yesterday evening's northern mail_, we learn from the
Argus of 9th inst., that during the last week the gamblers in Columbus,
Mississippi, have kept the town in great excitement.  Armed men paraded
the streets, and were stationed at corners, with double-barrelled guns,
Bowie knives, etcetera; and every day a general fight was anticipated.
The gamblers put law and public indignation at defiance.  The militia
were called out to aid the civil authority in preserving peace."--Sun.



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER ONE.

SOCIETY--WOMEN.

The women of America are unquestionably, physically, as far as beauty is
concerned, and morally, of a higher standard than the men; nevertheless
they have not that influence which they ought to possess.  In my former
remarks upon the women of America I have said, that they are the
prettiest in the world, and I have put the word _prettiest_ in italics,
as I considered it a term peculiarly appropriate to the American women.
In many points the Americans have, to a certain degree, arrived at that
equality which they profess to covet; and in no one, perhaps, more than
in the fair distribution of good looks among the women.  This is easily
accounted for: there is not to be found, on the one hand, that squalid
wretchedness, that half-starved growing up, that disease and misery, nor
on the other, that hereditary refinement, that inoculation of the
beautiful, from the constant association with the fine arts, that
careful nurture, and constant attention to health and exercise, which
exist in the dense population of the cities of the Old World; and
occasion those variations from extreme plainness to the perfection of
beauty which are to be seen, particularly in the metropolis of England.
In the United States, where neither the excess of misery nor of luxury
and refinement are known, you have, therefore, a more equal distribution
of good looks, and, although you often meet with beautiful women, it is
but rarely that you find one that may be termed ill favoured.  The
_coup-d'oeil_ is, therefore, more pleasing in America--enter society,
and turn your eyes in any direction, you will everywhere find cause for
pleasure, although seldom any of annoyance.  The climate is not,
however, favourable to beauty, which, compared to the English, is very
transitory, especially in the Eastern States; and when a female arrives
at the age of thirty, its reign is, generally speaking, over.

The climate of the Western States appears, however, more favourable to
it, and I think I saw more handsome women at Cincinnati than in any
other city of the Union; their figures were more perfect, and they were
finer grown, not receiving the sudden checks to which the Eastern women
are exposed.

Generally speaking, but a small interval elapses between the period of
American girls leaving school and their entering upon their duties as
wives; but during that period, whatever it may be, they are allowed more
liberty than the young people in our country; walking out without
_chaperons_, and visiting their friends as they please.  There is a
reason for this: the matrons are compelled, from the insufficiency of
their domestics, to attend personally to all the various duties of
housekeeping; their fathers and brothers are all employed in their
respective money-making transactions, and a servant cannot be spared
from American establishments; if, therefore, they are to walk out and
take exercise, it must be alone, and this can be done in the United
States with more security than elsewhere, from the circumstance of
everybody being actively employed, and there being no people at leisure
who are strolling or idling about.  I think that the portion of time
which elapses between the period of a young girl leaving school and
being married, is the happiest of her existence.  I have already
remarked upon the attention and gallantry shewn by the Americans to the
women, especially to the unmarried.  This is carried to an extent which,
in England, would be considered by our young women as no compliment; to
a certain degree it pervades every class, and even the sable damsels
have no reason to complain of not being treated with the excess of
politeness; but in my opinion, (and I believe the majority of the
American women will admit the correctness of it,) they do not consider
themselves flattered by a species of homage which is paying no
compliment to their good sense, and after which the usual attentions of
an Englishman to the sex are by some considered as amounting to hauteur
and neglect.

Be it as it may, the American women are not spoiled by this universal
adulation which they receive previous to their marriage.  It is not that
one is selected for her wealth or extreme beauty to the exception of all
others; in such a case it might prove dangerous; but it is a flattery
paid to the whole sex, given to all, and received as a matter of course
by all, and therefore it does no mischief.  It does, however, prove what
I have observed at the commencement of this chapter, which is, that the
women have not that influence which they are entitled to, and which, for
the sake of morality, it is to be lamented that they have not; when men
_respect_ women they do not attempt to make fools of them, but treat
them as rational and immortal beings, and this general adulation is
cheating them with the shadow, while they withhold from them the
substance.

I have said that the period between her emancipation from school and her
marriage is the happiest portion of an American woman's existence;
indeed it has reminded me of the fetes and amusements given in a
Catholic country to a young girl previous to her taking the veil, and
being immured from the world; for the duties of a wife in America are
from circumstances very onerous, and I consider her existence after that
period as but one of negative enjoyment.  And yet she appears anxious to
abridge even this small portion of freedom and happiness, for marriage
is considered almost as a business, or, I should say, a duty, an idea
probably handed down by the first settlers, to whom an increase of
population was of such vital importance.  Note 1.

However much the Americans may wish to deny it, I am inclined to think
that there are more marriages of _convenance_ in the United States than
in most other countries.  The men begin to calculate long before they
are of an age to marry, and it is not very likely that they would
calculate so well upon all other points, and not upon the value of a
dowry; moreover, the old people "calculate some," and the girls accept
an offer, without their hearts being seriously compromised.  Of course
there are exceptions: but I do not think that there are many _love_
matches made in America, and one reason for my holding this opinion is,
my having discovered how quietly matches are broken off and new
engagements entered into; and it is, perhaps, from a knowledge of this
fact, arising from the calculating spirit of the gentlemen, who are apt
to consider 20,000 dollars as preferable to 10,000, that the American
girls are not too hasty in surrendering their hearts.

I knew a young lady who was engaged to an acquaintance of mine; on my
return to their city a short time afterwards, I found that the match was
broken off, and that she was engaged to another, and nothing was thought
of it.  I do not argue from this simple instance, but because I found,
on talking about it, that it was a very common circumstance, and
because, where scandal is so rife, no remarks were made.  If a young
lady behaves in a way so as to give offence to the gentleman she is
engaged to, and sufficiently indecorous to warrant his breaking off the
match, he is gallant to the very last, for he writes to her, and begs
that she will dismiss _him_.  This I knew to be done by a party I was
acquainted with; he told me that it was considered _good taste_, and I
agreed with him.  On the whole, I hold it very fortunate that in
American marriages there is, generally speaking, more prudence than love
on both sides, for from the peculiar habits and customs of the country,
a woman who loved without prudence would not feel very happy as a wife.

Let us enter into an examination of the married life in the United
States.

All the men in America are busy; their whole time is engrossed by their
accumulation of money; they breakfast early and repair to their stores
or counting-houses; the majority of them do not go home to dinner, but
eat at the nearest tavern or oyster-cellar, for they generally live at a
considerable distance from the business part of the town, and time is
too precious to be thrown away.  It would be supposed that they would be
home to an early tea; many are, but the majority are not.  After
fagging, they require recreation, and the recreations of most Americans
are politics and news, besides the chance of doing a little more
business, all of which, with drink, are to be obtained at the bars of
the principal commercial hotels in the city.  The consequence is, that
the major portion of them come home late, tired, and go to bed; early
the next morning they are off to their business again.  Here it is
evident that the women do not have much of their husband's society; nor
do I consider this arising from any want of inclination on the part of
the husbands, as there is an absolute necessity that they should work as
hard as others if they wish to do well, and what one does, the other
must do.  Even frequenting the bar is almost a necessity, for it is
there that they obtain all the information of the day.  But the result
is that the married women are left alone; their husbands are not their
companions, and if they could be, still the majority of the husbands
would not be suitable companions for the following reasons.  An American
starts into life at so early an age that what he has gained at school,
with the exception of that portion brought into use from his business,
is lost.  He has no time for reading, except the newspaper; all his
thoughts and ideas are centred in his employment; he becomes perfect in
that, acquires a great deal of practical knowledge useful for making
money, but for little else.  This he must do if he would succeed, and
the major portion confine themselves to such knowledge alone.  But with
the women it is different; their education is much more extended than
that of the men, because they are more docile, and easier to control in
their youth; and when they are married, although their duties are much
more onerous than with us, still, during the long days and evenings,
during which they wait for the return of their husbands, they have time
to finish, I may say, their own educations and improve their minds by
reading.  The consequence of this, with other adjuncts, is, that their
minds become, and really are, much more cultivated and refined than
those of their husbands; and when the universal practice of using
tobacco and drinking among the latter is borne in mind, it will be
readily admitted that they are also much more refined in their persons.

These are the causes why the American women are so universally admired
by the English and other nations, while they do not consider the men as
equal to them either in manners or personal appearance.  Let it be borne
in mind that I am now speaking of the majority, and that the exceptions
are very numerous; for instance, you may except one whole profession,
that of the lawyers, among whom you will find no want of gentlemen or
men of highly cultivated minds; indeed, the same may be said with
respect to most of the liberal professions, but only so because their
profession allows that time for improving themselves which the American
in general, in his struggle on the race for wealth, cannot afford to
spare.

As I have before observed, the ambition of the American is from
circumstances mostly directed to but one object--that of rapidly raising
himself above his fellows by the accumulation of a fortune; to this one
great desideratum all his energies are directed, all his thoughts are
bent, and by it all his ideas are engrossed.  When I first arrived in
America, as I walked down Broadway, it appeared strange to me that there
should be such a remarkable family likeness among the people.  Every man
I met seemed to me by his features, to be a brother or a connection of
the last man who had passed me; I could not at first comprehend this,
but the mystery was soon revealed.  It was that they were all intent and
engrossed with the same object; all were, as they passed, calculating
and reflecting; this produced a similar contraction of the brow,
knitting of the eye-brows, and compression of the lips--a similarity of
feeling had produced a similarity of expression, from the same muscles
being called into action.  Even their hurried walk assisted the error;
it is a saying in the United States, "that a New York merchant always
walks as if he had a good dinner before him, and a bailiff behind him,"
and the metaphor is not inapt.

Now, a man so wholly engrossed in business cannot be a very good
companion if he were at home; his thoughts would be elsewhere, and
therefore perhaps it is better that things should remain as they are.
But the great evil arising from this is, that the children are left
wholly to the management of their mothers, and the want of paternal
control I have already commented upon.  The Americans have reason to be
proud of their women, for they are really good wives--much _too good_
for them; I have no hesitation in asserting this, and should there be
any unfortunate difference between any married couple in America, all
the lady has to say is, "The fact is, Sir, I'm much too good for you,
and Captain Marryat says so."  (I flatter myself there's a little
mischief in that last sentence.)

It appears, then, that the American woman has little of her husband's
society, and that in education and refinement she is much his superior,
notwithstanding which she is a domestic slave.  For this the Americans
are not to blame, as it is the effect of circumstances, over which they
cannot be said to have any control.  But the Americans are to blame in
one point, which is, that they do not properly appreciate or value their
wives, who have not half the influence which wives have in England, or
one quarter that legitimate influence to which they are entitled.  That
they are proud of them, flatter them, and are kind to them after their
own fashion, I grant, but female influence extends no farther.  Some
authors have said, that by the morals of the women you can judge of the
morals of a country; generally speaking, this is true, but America is an
exception, for the women are more moral, more educated, and more refined
than the men, and yet have at present no influence whatever in society.

What is the cause of this?  It can only be ascribed to the one great
ruling passion which is so strong that it will admit of no check, or
obstacles being thrown in its way, and will listen to no argument or
entreaty; and because, in a country when every thing is decided by
public opinion, the women are as great slaves to it as the men.  Their
position at present appears to be that the men will not raise themselves
to the standard of the women, and the women will not lower themselves to
the standard of the men; they apparently move in different spheres,
although they repose on the same bed.

It is, therefore, as I have before observed, fortunate that the
marriages in America are more decided by prudence than by affection; for
nothing could be more mortifying to a woman of sense and feeling, than
to awake from her dream of love, and discover that the object upon which
she has bestowed her affection, is indifferent to the sacrifice which
she has made.

If the American women had their due influence, it would be fortunate;
they might save their country, by checking the tide of vice and
immorality, and raising the men to their own standard.  Whether they
ever will effect this, or whether they will continue as at present, to
keep up the line of demarcation, or gradually sink down to the level of
the other sex, is a question which remains to be solved.

That the American women have their peculiarities, and in some respects
they might be improved, is certain.  Their principal fault in society
is, that they do not sufficiently modulate their voices.  Those faults
arising from association, and to which both sexes are equally prone, are
a total indifference to, or rather a love of change, "shifting right
away," without the least regret, from one portion of the Union to
another; a remarkable apathy as to the sufferings of others, an
indifference to loss of life, a fondness for politics, all of which are
unfeminine; and lastly, a passion for dress carried to too great an
extent; but this latter is easily accounted for, and is inseparable from
a society where all would be equal.  But, on the other hand, the
American women have a virtue which the men have not, which is moral
courage, and one also which is not common with the sex, physical
courage.  The independence and spirit of an American woman, if left a
widow without resources, is immediately shewn; she does not sit and
lament, but applies herself to some employment, so that she may maintain
herself and her children, and seldom fails in so doing.  Here are faults
and virtues, both proceeding from the same origin.

I have already in my Diary referred to another great error in a portion
of the American women.  Lady Blessington, in one of her delightful
works, very truly observes, "I turn with disgust from that affected
prudery, arising, if not from a participation, at least from a knowledge
of evil, which induces certain ladies to cast down their eyes, look
grave, and shew the extent of their knowledge, or the pruriency of their
imaginations, by discovering in a harmless jest nothing to alarm their
experienced feelings.  I respect that woman whose innate purity prevents
those around her from uttering aught that can arouse it, much more than
her whose sensitive prudery continually reminds one, that she is _au
fait_ of every possible interpretation which a word of doubtful meaning
admits."

The remarks of Miss Martineau upon the women of America are all very
ungracious, and some of them very unjust.  That she met with affectation
and folly in America, is very probable--where do you not?  There is no
occasion to go to the United States to witness it.  As for the charge of
carrying in their hands seventy-dollar pocket-handkerchiefs, I am afraid
it is but too true: but when there is little distinction, except by
dress, ladies will be very expensive.  I do not know why, but the
American ladies have a custom of carrying their pocket-handkerchiefs in
their hands, either in a room, or walking out, or travelling; and
moreover, they have a custom of marking their names in the corner, at
full length, and when in a steamboat or rail-car, I have, by a little
watching, obtained the names of ladies sitting near me, in consequence
of this custom, which of course will be ascribed by Miss Martineau to a
wish to give information to strangers.

The remark upon the Washington belles, [note 2] I am afraid is too true,
as I have already pointed out that the indifference to human life in
America extends to the softer sex; and I perfectly well remember, upon
my coming into a room at New York with the first intelligence of the
wreck of the `Home,' and the dreadful loss of life attending it, that my
news was received with a "dear me!" from two or three of the ladies, and
there the matter dropped.  There is, however, much truth in what Miss
Martineau says, relative to the manner in which the women are treated by
their lords and masters, in this new country.  The following quotation
from the work is highly deserving of attention:--

"If a test of civilisation be sought, none can be so sure as the
condition of that half of society over which the other half has power,--
from the exercise of the right of the strongest.  Tried by this test,
the American civilisation appears to be of a lower order than might have
been expected from some other symptoms of its social state.  The
Americans have, in the treatment of women, fallen below, not only their
own democratic principles, but the practice of some parts of the Old
World.

"The unconsciousness of both parties as to the injuries suffered by
women at the hands of those who hold the power, is a sufficient proof of
the low degree of civilisation in this important particular at which
they rest, while woman's intellect is confined, her morals crushed, her
health ruined, her weaknesses encouraged, and her strength punished, she
is told that her lot is cast in the paradise of women: and there is no
country in the world where there is so much boasting of the `chivalrous'
treatment she enjoys.  That is to say,--she has the best place in
stage-coaches: when there are not chairs enough for everybody, the
gentlemen stand she hears oratorical flourishes on public occasions
about wives and home, and apostrophes to woman: her husband's hair
stands on end at the idea of her working, and he toils to indulge her
with money: she has liberty to get her brain turned by religious
excitements, that her attention may be diverted from morals, politics,
and philosophy; and, especially, her morals are guarded by the strictest
observance of propriety in her presence.  In short, indulgence is given
her as a substitute for justice."

If Miss Martineau had stopped here, she had done well; but she follows
this up by claiming for her sex all the privileges of our own, and seems
to be highly indignant, that they are not permitted to take their due
share of the government of the country, and hold the most important
situations.  To follow up her ideas, we should have a "teeming" prime
minister, and the Lord Chancellor obliged to leave the woolsack to nurse
his baby; Miss M forgets that her prayer has been half granted already,
for we never yet had a ministry without a certain proportion of _old
women_ in it; and we can, therefore dispense with her services.

There is, however, one remark of Miss Martineau's which I cannot pass
over without expressing indignation; I will quote the passage.

"It is no secret on the spot, that the habit of intemperance is not
infrequent among women of station and education in the most enlightened
parts of the country.  I witnessed some instances, and heard of more.
It does not seem to me to be regarded with all the dismay which such a
symptom ought to excite.  To the stranger, a novelty so horrible, a
spectacle so fearful, suggests wide and deep subjects of investigation.
If women, in a region professing religion more strenuously than any
other, living in the deepest external peace, surrounded by prosperity,
and outwardly honoured more conspicuously than in any other country, can
ever so far cast off self-restraint, shame, domestic affection, and the
deep prejudices of education, as to plunge into the living hell of
intemperance, there must be something fearfully wrong in their
position."

Miss Martineau is a lady; and, therefore, it is difficult to use the
language which I would, if a man had made such an assertion.  I shall
only state, that it is one of the greatest libels that ever was put into
print: for Miss Martineau implies that it is a general habit, among the
American women; so far from it, the American women are so abstemious
that they do not drink sufficient for their health.  They can take very
little exercise, and did they take a little more wine, they would not
suffer from _dyspepsia_, as they now do, as wine would assist their
digestion.  The origin of this slander I know well, and the only ground
for it is, that there are two or three ladies of a certain city, who
having been worked upon by some of the Evangelical Revival Ministers,
have had their minds crushed by the continual excitement to which they
have been subjected.  The mind affects the body, and they have required,
and have applied to, stimulus, and if you will inquire into the moral
state of any woman among the higher classes, either in America or
England, who has fallen into the vice alluded to, nine times out of ten
you will find that it has been brought about by religious excitement.
Fanaticism and gin are remarkable good friends all over the world.  It
is surprising to me that, when Miss Martineau claims for her sex the
same privilege as ours, she should have overlooked one simple fact which
ought to convince _her_ that they are the weaker vessels.  I refer to
what she acknowledges to be true, which is, that the evangelical
preachers invariably apply to women for proselytes, instead of men; not
only in America but everywhere else; and that for one male, they may
reckon at least twenty females among their flocks.  According to Miss
Martineau's published opinions, there can be no greater weakness than
the above.

In the United States, divorces are obtained without expense, and without
it being necessary to commit crime, as in England.  The party pleads in
_forma pauperis_, to the State Legislation, and a divorce is granted
upon any grounds which may be considered as just and reasonable.

Miss Martineau mentions a divorce having been granted to a wife, upon
the plea of her husband being a gambler; and I was myself told of an
instance in which a divorce was granted upon the plea of the husband
being such an "_awful swearer_;" and really, if any one heard the
swearing in some parts of the Western country, he would not be surprised
at a religious woman requesting to be separated.  I was once on board of
a steam-boat on the Mississippi, when a man let off such a volley of
execrations, that it was quite painful to hear him.  An American who
stood by me, as soon as the man had finished, observed, "Well, I'm glad
that fellow has nothing to do with the engines: I reckon he'd burst the
_biler_."

Miss Martineau observes, "In no country I believe are the marriage laws
so iniquitous as in England, and the conjugal relation, in consequence,
so impaired.  Whatever may be thought of the principles which are to
enter into laws of divorce, whether it be held that pleas for divorce
should be one, (as narrow interpreters of the New Testament would have
it;) or two, (as the law of England has it;) or several, (as the
Continental and United States' laws in many instances allow,) nobody, I
believe, defends the arrangement by which, in England, divorce is
obtainable only by the very rich.  The barbarism of granting that as a
privilege to the extremely wealthy, to which money bears no relation
whatever, and in which all married persons whatever have an equal
interest, needs no exposure beyond the mere statement of the fact.  It
will be seen at a glance how such an arrangement tends to vitiate
marriage: how it offers impunity to adventurers, and encouragement to
every kind of mercenary marriages; how absolute is its oppression of the
injured party; and how, by vitiating marriage, it originates and
aggravates licentiousness to an incalculable extent.  To England alone
belongs the disgrace of such a method of legislation.  I believe that,
while there is little to be said for the legislation of any part of the
world on this head, it is nowhere so vicious as in England."

I am afraid that these remarks are but too true; and it is the more
singular, as not only in the United States, but in every other
Protestant community that I have ever heard of, divorce can be obtained
upon what are considered just and legitimate grounds.  It has been
supposed, that should the marriage tie be loosened, that divorces
without number would take place.  It was considered so, and so argued,
at the time that Zurich (the only Protestant canton in Switzerland that
did not permit divorce, except for adultery alone,) passed laws similar
to those of the other cantons; but so far from such being the case, only
one divorce took place, within a year after the laws were amended.  What
is the reason of this?  It can, in my opinion, only be ascribed to the
chain being worn more lightly, when you know that if it oppresses you,
it may be removed.  Men are naturally tyrants, and they bear down upon
the woman who cannot escape from their thraldom; but, with the knowledge
that she can appeal against them, they soften their rigour.  On the
other hand, the woman, when unable to escape, frets with the feeling
that she must submit, and that there is no help or hope in prospect; but
once aware that she has her rights, and an appeal, she bears with more,
and feels less than otherwise she would.  You may bind, and from
assuetude and time, (putting the better feelings out of the question,)
the ties are worn without complaint; but if you bind too tight, you cut
into the flesh, and after a time the pain becomes insupportable.  In
Switzerland, Germany, and I believe all the Protestant communities of
the old world, the grounds upon which divorce is admissible are as
follows:--adultery, condemnation of either party to punishment
considered as infamous, madness, contagious chronic diseases, desertion,
and incompatibility of temper.

The last will be considered by most people as no ground for divorce.
Whether it is or not, I shall not pretend to decide, but this is
certain, that it is the cause of the most unhappiness, and ultimately of
the most crime.

All the great errors, all the various schisms in the Christian church,
have arisen from not taking the holy writings as a great moral code, (as
I should imagine they were intended to be,) which legislates upon broad
principles, but selecting particular passages from them upon which to
pin your faith.  And it certainly appears to me to be reasonable to
suppose that those laws by which the imperfection of our natures were
fairly met, and which tended to diminish the aggregate of crime, must be
more acceptable to our Divine Master than any which, however they might
be in spirit more rigidly conformable to his precepts, were found in
their working not to succeed.  And here I cannot help observing, that
the heads of the Church of England appear not to have duly weighed this
matter, when an attempt was lately made to legislate upon it.  Do the
English bishops mean to assert, that they know better than the heads of
all the other Protestant communities in the world--that they are more
accurate expounders of the gospel, and have a more intimate knowledge of
God's will?  Did it never occur to them, that when so many good and
virtuous ecclesiastics of the same persuasion in other countries have
decided upon the propriety of divorce, so as to leave them in a very
small minority, that it might be possible that they might be wrong, or
do they intend to set up and claim the infallibility of the Papistical
hierarchy?

Any legislation to prevent crime, which produces more crime, must be bad
and unsound, whatever may be its basis: witness the bastardy clause, in
the New Poor Law Bill.  That the former arrangements were defective is
undeniable, for by them there was a premium for illegitimate children.
This required amendment: but the remedy has proved infinitely worse than
the disease.  For what has been the result?  That there have been many
thousands fewer illegitimate children _born_, it is true; but, has the
progress of immorality been checked?  On the contrary, crime has
increased, for to the former crime has been added one much greater, that
of infanticide, or producing abortion.  Such has been the effect of
attempting to legislate for the affections; for in most cases a woman
falls a sacrifice to her better feelings, not to her appetite.

In every point connected with marriage, has this injurious plan been
persevered in; the marriage ceremony is a remarkable instance of this,
for, beautiful as it is as a service, it is certainly liable to this
objection, that of making people vow before God that which it is not in
human nature to control.  The woman vows to love, and to honour, and to
cherish; the man to love and cherish, until death doth them part.

Is it right that this vow should be made?  A man deserts his wife for
another, treats her cruelly, separates her from her children.  Can a
woman love, or honour, or cherish such a man--nevertheless, she has
vowed before God that she will.  Take the reverse of the picture when
the fault is on the woman's side, and the evil is the same; can either
party control their affections? surely not, and therefore it would be
better that such vows should not be demanded.

There is another evil arising from one crime being the only allowable
cause of divorce, which is that the possession of one negative virtue on
the part of the woman, is occasionally made an excuse for the practice
of vice, and a total disregard of her duties as a wife.  I say negative
virtue, for chastity very often proceeds from temperament, and as often
from not being tempted.

A woman may neglect her duties of every kind--but she is chaste; she may
make her husband miserable by indulgence of her ill-temper--but she is
chaste; she may squander his money, ruin him by expense--but she is
chaste; she may, in short, drive him to drunkenness and suicide--but
still she is chaste; and chastity, like charity, covers the whole
multitude of sins, and is the scape-goat for every other crime, and
violation of the marriage vow.

It must, however, be admitted, that although the faults may occasionally
be found on the side of the woman, in nine times out of ten it is the
reverse; and that the defects of our marriage laws have rendered English
women liable to treatment which ought not to be shewn towards the
veriest slaves in existence.

I must now enter into a question, which I should have had more pleasure
in passing over lightly, had it not been for the constant attacks of the
Americans upon this subject, during the time that I was in the country,
and the remarks of Mr Carey in his work, in which he claims for the
Americans pre-eminence in this point, as well as upon all others.

Miss Martineau says, "The ultimate, and very strong impression on the
mind of a stranger, pondering on the morals of society in America, is
that human nature is much the same every where."  Surely Miss Martineau
need not have crossed the Atlantic to make this discovery; however I
quote it, as it will serve as a text to what is to follow.

The Americans claim excessive purity for their women, and taunt us with
the _exposees_ occasionally made in our newspapers.  In the first
place--which shews the highest regard for morality, a country where any
deviation from virtue is immediately made known, and held up to public
indignation? or one which, from national vanity, and a wish that all
should _appear_ to be correct, instead of publishing, conceals the
facts, and permits the guilty parties to escape without censure, for
what they consider the honour of the nation?

To suppose that there is no conjugal infidelity in the United States, is
to suppose that human nature is not the same every where.  That it
never, to my knowledge, was made public, but invariably hushed up when
discovered, I believe; so is suicide.  But _one_ instance came to my
knowledge, during the time that I was in the States, which will give a
very fair idea of American feeling on this subject.  It was supposed
that an intrigue had been discovered, or, it had actually been
discovered, I cannot say which, between a foreigner and the wife of an
English gentleman.  It was immediately seized upon with ecstasy,
circulated in all the papers with every American embellishment, and was
really the subject of congratulation among them, as if they had gained
some victory over this country.  It so happened that an American called
upon the lady, and among other questions put to her, inquired in what
part of England she was born.  She replied, "that she was not an
English-woman, but was born in the States, and brought up in an American
city."

It is impossible to imagine how this mere trifling fact, affected the
Americans.  She was then an American--they were aghast--and I am
convinced that they would have made any sacrifice, to have been able to
have recalled all that they had done, and have hushed up the matter.

The fact is that human nature _is_ the same every where, and I cannot
help observing, that if their community is so much more moral, as they
pretend that it is, why is it, that they have considered it necessary to
form societies on such an extensive scale, for the prevention of a
crime, from which they declare themselves (comparatively with us, and
other nations,) to be exempt?  I once had an argument on this subject
with an elderly American gentleman, and as I took down the minutes of it
after we parted, I think it will be as well to give it to my readers, as
it will shew the American feeling upon it--

"Why, Captain M, you must bear in mind that we are not so vicious and
contaminated here, as you are in the old country.  You don't see our
newspapers filled, as your's are, with crim. cons, in high life.  No,
sir, our institutions are favourable to virtue and morality, and our
women are as virtuous as our men are brave."

"I have no reason to deny either one assertion or the other, as far as I
am acquainted with your men and women; but still I do not judge from the
surface, as many have done who have visited you.  Because there are no
crim. cons. in your papers, it does not prove that conjugal infidelity
does not exist.  There are no suicides of people of any station in
society ever published in your newspapers, and yet there is no country
where suicide is more common.

"I grant that, occasionally, the coroner does bring in a verdict so as
to save the feelings of the family."

"That is more than a coroner would venture to do in England, let the
rank of the party be of the highest.  But, if you hush up suicides, may
you not also hush up other offences, to save the feelings of families?
I have already made up my mind upon one point, which is that you are
content to substitute the appearance for the reality in your moral
code--the fact is, you fear one another--you fear society, but, you do
not fear God."

"I should imagine, captain, that when you have conversed, and mixed up
with us a little more, you will be inclined to retract, and acknowledge
what I have said to be correct.  I have lived all my life in the States,
and I have no hesitation in saying, that we are a very moral people.
Recollect that you have principally confined yourself to our cities,
during your stay with us; yet even there we may proudly challenge
comparison."

"My opinion is, that unless you can shew just cause _why_ you should be
more moral than other nations, you are, whether in cities or in the
country, much the same as we are.  I do not require to examine on this
point, as I consider it to be a rule-of-three calculation.  Give me the
extent of the population, and I can estimate the degree of purity.
Mankind demoralise each other by collision; and the larger the numbers
crowded together, the greater will be the demoralisation, and this rule
will hold good, whether in England or the United States, the Old World
or the New."

"That argument would hold good if it were not for our institutions,
which are favourable to morality and virtue."

"I consider them quite the contrary.  Your institutions are beautiful in
theory, but in practice do not work well.  I suspect that your society
has a very similar defect."

"Am I then to understand, captain, that you consider the American ladies
as _not_ virtuous?"

"I have already said that I have had no proofs to the contrary; all I
wish is to defend my own country, and I say that I consider the English
women at all events quite as moral as the Americans."

"I reckon that's no compliment, captain.  Now, then, do you mean to say
that you think there is as much conjugal infidelity in New York, in
proportion to the population, as there is in London?  Now, captain, if
you please, we will stick to that point."

"I answer you at once.  No, I do not believe that there is; but--"

"That's all I want, captain--never mind the _buts_."

"_But_ you must have the _buts_.  Recollect, I did not say that your
society was more moral, although I said that there was in my opinion
less infidelity."

"Well, how can that be?"

"Because, in the first place, conjugal infidelity is not the only crime
which exists in society; and, secondly, because there are causes which
prevent its being common.  That this vice should be common, two things
are requisite--time and opportunity; neither of which is to be found in
a society like yours.  You have no men of leisure, every man is occupied
the whole day with his business.  Now, suppose one man was to stay away
from his business for merely one day, would he not be missed, and
inquiries made after him; and if it were proved that he stayed away to
pass his time with his neighbour's wife, would not the scandal be
circulated all over the city before night?  I recollect a very plain
woman accusing a very pretty one of indiscretion; the reply of the
latter, when the former vaunted her own purity, was, `Were you ever
asked?'  Thus it is in America; there is neither time nor opportunity,
and your women are in consequence seldom or ever tempted.  I do not mean
to say that if they were tempted they would fall; all I say is, that no
parallel can in this instance be drawn between the women of the two
countries, as their situations are so very different.  I am ready to do
every justice to your women; but I will not suffer you to remain in the
error, that you are more moral than we are."

"Why, you have admitted that we are from circumstances, if not from
principle."

"In one point only, and in that you _appear_ to be, and I have given you
a reason why you really should be so; but we can draw no inference of
any value from what we know relative to your better classes of society.
If we would examine and calculate the standard of morality in a country,
we must look elsewhere."

"Where?"

"To the lower class of society, and not to the highest.  I presume you
are aware that there is a greater proportion of unfortunate females in
New York, taking the extent of the populations, than in London or Paris?
I have it from American authority, and I have every reason to believe
that it is true."

"I am surprised that any American should have made such an admission,
captain; but for the sake of argument let it be so.  But first recollect
that we have a constant influx of people from the Old Country, from all
the other States in America, and that we are a sea-port town, with our
wharfs crowded with shipping."

"I admit it all, and that is the reason why you have so many.  The
supply in all countries is usually commensurate with the demand; but the
numbers have nothing to do with the argument."

"Then I cannot see what you are driving at; for allow me to say that,
admitting the class to be as numerous as you state from American
authority, still they are very orderly and well behaved.  You never see
them drunk in the streets; you never hear swearing or abusive language;
and you do in London and your seaports.  There is a decorum and sense of
propriety about them which, you must admit, speaks well, even for those
unfortunate persons, and shews some sense of morality and decency even
in our most abandoned."

"You have brought forward the very facts which I was about to state, and
it is from these facts that I draw quite contrary conclusions.  If your
argument is good, it must follow that the women of Paris are much more
virtuous than the women of London.  Now, I consider that these facts
prove that the standard of morality is lower in America and France than
it is in England.  A French woman who has fallen never drinks, or uses
bad language; she follows her profession, and seldom sinks, but rises in
it.  The grisette eventually keeps her carriage, and retires with
sufficient to support her in her old age, if she does not marry.  The
American women of this class appear to me to be precisely the same
description of people; whereas, in England, a woman who falls, falls
never to rise again--sinking down by degrees from bad to worse, until
she ends her days in rags and misery.  But why so? because, as you say,
they become reckless and intemperate--they _do_ feel their degradation,
and cannot bear up against it--they attempt to drown conscience, and die
from the vain attempts.  Now, the French and the American women of this
class apparently do not feel this, and, therefore, they behave and do
better.  This is one reason why I argue that the standard of morality is
not so high in your country as with us, although, from circumstances,
conjugal infidelity may be less frequent."

"Then, captain, you mean to say that cursing, swearing, and drinking, is
a proof of morality in your country?"

"It is a proof, not of the morality of the party, but of the high
estimation in which virtue is held, shewn by the indifference and
disregard to everything else after virtue is once lost."

This is a specimen of many arguments held with the Americans upon that
question, and when examining into it, it should be borne in mind that
there is much less excuse for vice in America than in the Old Countries.
Poverty is but too often the mother of crime, and in America it may be
said that there is no poverty to offer up in extenuation.

Mr Carey appears to have lost sight of this fact when he so
triumphantly points at the difference between the working classes of
both nations, and quotes the Report of our Poor Law Commissioners to
prove the wretchedness and misery of ours.  I cannot, however, allow his
assertions to pass without observation, especially as English and French
travellers have been equally content to admit without due examination
the claims of the Americans; I refer more particularly to the large
manufactory at Lowell, in Massachusetts, which from its asserted purity
has been one of the boasts of America.  Mr Carey says:--

"The following passage from a statement, furnished by the manager of one
of the principal establishments in Lowell, shows a very gratifying state
of things:--`There have only occurred three instances in which any
apparently improper connection or intimacy had taken place, and in all
those cases the parties were married on the discovery, and several
months prior to the birth of their children; so that, in a legal point
of view, no illegitimate birth has taken place among the females
employed in the mills under my direction.  Nor have I known of but one
case among all the females employed in Lowell.  I have said known--I
should say heard of one case.  I am just informed, that that was a case
where the female had been employed but a few days in any mill, and was
forthwith rejected from the corporation, and sent to her friends.  In
point of female chastity, I believe that Lowell is as free from reproach
as any place of an equal population in the United States or the world.'"

And he winds up his chapter with the following remark:--

"The effect upon morals of this state of things, is of the most
gratifying character.  The number of illegitimate children born in the
United States is small; so small, that we should suppose one in fifty to
be a high estimate.  In the great factories of the Eastern States there
prevails a high degree of morality, presenting a most extraordinary
contrast to the immorality represented to exist in a large portion of
those of England."

Next follows Miss Martineau, who says--"The morals of the female factory
population may be expected to be good when it is considered of what
class it is composed.  Many of the girls are in the factories because
they have too much pride for domestic service.  Girls who are too proud
for domestic service as it is in America, can hardly be low enough for
any gross immorality, or to need watching, or not to be trusted to avoid
the contagion of evil example.  To a stranger, their pride seems to have
taken a mistaken direction, and they appear to deprive themselves of a
respectable home and station, and many benefits, by their dislike of
service; but this is altogether their own affair, they must choose for
themselves their way of life.  But the reasons of their choice indicate
a state of mind superior to the grossest dangers of their position."

And the Reverend Mr Reid also echoes the praise of the factory girls
given by others, although he admits that their dress was above their
state and condition, and that he was surprised to see them appear "in
_silks_, with _scarfs, veils_, and _parasols_."

Here is a mass of evidence opposed to me, but the American evidence must
be received with all due caution; and as for the English, I consider it
rather favourable to my side of the question than otherwise.  Miss
Martineau says that "the girls have too much pride for domestic
service," and, therefore, argues that they will not be immoral; now, the
two great causes of women falling off from virtue, are poverty and false
pride.  What difference there is between receiving money for watching a
spinning-jenny, and doing household work, I do not see; in either case
it is servitude, although the former may be preferred, as being less
under control, and leaving more time at your own disposal.  I consider
the pride, therefore, which Miss Martineau upholds, to be _false_ pride,
which will actuate them in other points; and when we find the factory
girls vying with each other in silks and laces, it becomes a query
whether the passion for dress, so universal in America, may not have its
effect there as well as elsewhere.  I must confess that I went to Lowell
doubting all I had heard--it was so contrary to human nature that five
hundred girls should live among a population of fifteen hundred, or
more, all pure and virtuous, and all dressed in silks and satin.

When I went to Lowell I travelled with an American gentleman, who will,
I have no doubt, corroborate my statement, and I must say that, however
pure Lowell may have been at the time when the encomiums were passed
upon it, I have every reason to believe, from American authority as well
as my own observation, that a great alteration has taken place, and that
the manufactories have retrograded with the whole mass of American
society.  In the first place, I never heard a more accomplished swearer,
east of the Alleghanies, than one young lady who addressed me and my
American friend, and as it was the _only instance_ of swearing on the
part of a female that I ever met with in the United States, it was the
more remarkable.  I shall only observe, that two days at Lowell
convinced me that "human nature was the same every where," and thus I
dismiss the subject.

Mr Carey compels me to make a remark which I would gladly have avoided,
but as he brings forward his comparative statements of the number of
illegitimate children born in the two countries as a proof of the
superior morality of America, I must point out to him what I suspect he
is not aware of.  Public opinion acts as _law_ in America; appearances
are there substituted for the reality, and provided appearances are kept
up, whether it be in religion or morality, it is sufficient; but should
an exposure take place, there is no mercy for the offender.  As those
who have really the least virtue in themselves are always the loudest to
cry out at any lapse which may be discovered in others, so does society
in America pour out its anathemas in the inverse ratio of its real
purity.  Now, although the authority I speak from is undoubted, at the
same time I wish to say as little as possible.  That there are fewer
illegitimate children _born_ in the United States is very true.  But why
so? because public opinion there acts as the bastardy clause in the new
poor law bill has done in this country; and if Mr Carey will only
inquire in his own city, he will find that I should be justified if I
said twice as much, as I have been compelled in defence of my own
country to say, upon so unpleasant a subject.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  Bigamy is not uncommon in the United States from the women
being in too great a hurry to marry, and not obtaining sufficient
information relative to their suitors.  The punishment is chipping stone
in Sing Sing for a few years.  It must, however, be admitted, that when
a foreigner is the party, it is rather difficult to ascertain whether
the gentleman has or has not left an old wife or two in the Old World.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  A Washington belle related to me the sad story of the death of
a young man who fell from a small boat into the Potomac in the night,--
it is supposed in his sleep.  She told me where and how his body was
found; and what relations he had left; and finished with "he will be
much missed at parties."



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER TWO.

PUBLIC OPINION, OR THE MAJORITY.

The majority are always in the _right_, so says Miss Martineau, and so
have said greater people than even Miss Martineau; to be sure Miss
Martineau qualifies her expression afterwards, when she declares that
they always will be right in the _end_.  What she means by that I do not
exactly comprehend; the end of a majority is its subsiding into a
minority, and a minority is generally right.  But I rather think that
she would imply that they will repent and see their folly when the
consequences fall heavily upon them.  The great question is, what is a
majority? must it be a whole nation, or a portion of a nation, or a
portion of the population of a city; or, in fact, any _plus_ against any
_minus_, be they small or be they large.  For instance, two against one
are a majority, and, if so, any two scoundrels may murder an honest man
and be in the right; or it may be the majority in any city, as in
Baltimore, where they rose and murdered an unfortunate minority [see
note 1]; or it may be a majority on the Canada frontier, when a set of
miscreants defied their own government, and invaded the colony of a
nation with whom they were at peace--all which is of course right.  But
there are other opinions on this question besides those of Miss
Martineau, and we shall quote them as occasion serves.

I have before observed, that Washington left America a republic; and
that in the short space of fifty years it has sunk into a democracy.

The barrier intended to be raised against the encroachments of the
people has been swept away; the senate (which was intended, by the
arrangements for its election, to have served as the aristocracy of the
legislature, as a deliberative check to the impetus of the majority,
like our House of Lords), having latterly become virtually nothing more
than a second congress, receiving instructions, and submissive to them,
like a pledged representative.  This is what Washington did not foresee.

Washington was himself an aristocrat; he shewed it in every way.  He was
difficult of access, except to the higher classes.  He carried state in
his outward show, always wearing his uniform as General of the Forces,
and attended by a guard of honour.  Indeed, one letter of Washington's
proves that he was rather doubtful as to the working of the new
government shortly after it had been constituted.  He says:--

"Among men of reflection few will be found, I believe, who are not
_beginning_ to think that our system is better in _theory_ than in
_practice_, and that notwithstanding the _boasted virtue_ of America, it
is more than probable we shall exhibit the _last melancholy proof_, that
mankind are incompetent to their own government without _the means of
coercion in the sovereign_."  [Washington's letter to Chief Justice Jay,
10th March, 1787.]

This is a pretty fair admission from such high authority; and fifty
years have proved the wisdom and foresight of the observation.
Gradually as the aristocracy of the country wore out (for there was an
aristocracy at that time in America), and the people became less and
less enlightened, so did they encroach upon the constitution.  President
after president gradually laid down the insignia and outward appearance
of rank, the senate became less and less respectable, and the people
more and more authoritative.

M.  Tocqueville says, "When the American revolution broke out,
distinguished political characters arose in great numbers; for public
opinion then served, not to tyrannise over, but to direct the exertions
of individuals.  Those celebrated men took a full part in the general
agitation of mind common at that period, and they attained a high degree
of personal fame, which was reflected back upon the nation, but which
was by no means borrowed from it."

It was not, however, until the presidency of General Jackson, that the
democratic party may be said to have made any serious inroads upon the
constitution.  Their previous advances were indeed sure, but they were,
comparatively speaking, slow; but, raised as he was to the office of
President by the mob, the demagogues who led the mob obtained the
offices under government, to the total exclusion of the aristocratic
party, whose doom was then sealed.  Within these last ten years the
advance of the people has been like a torrent, sweeping and levelling
all before it, and the will of the majority has become not only absolute
with the government, but it defies the government itself, which is too
weak to oppose it.

Is it not strange, and even ridiculous, that under a government
established little more than fifty years, a government which was to be a
_lesson_ to the whole world, we should find political writers making use
of language such as this: "We are for _reform, sound, progressive
reform_, not subversion and destruction."  Yet such is an extract from
one of the best written American periodicals of the day.  This is the
language that may be expected to be used in a country like England,
which still legislates under a government of eight hundred years old;
but what a failure must that government be, which in fifty years calls
forth even from its advocates such an admission!!

M.  Tocqueville says, "Custom, however, has done even more than laws.  A
proceeding which will in the end set all the guarantees of
representative government at nought, is becoming more and more general
in the United States: it frequently happens that the electors who choose
a delegate, point out a certain line of conduct to him, and impose upon
him a certain number of positive obligations, which he is pledged to
fulfil.  With the exception of the tumult, this comes to the same thing
as if the majority of the populace held its deliberations in the
market-place."

Speaking of the majority as the popular will, he says, "no obstacles
exist which can impede, or so much as retard its progress, or which can
induce it to heed the complaints of those whom it crushes upon its path.
This state of things is fatal in itself, and dangerous for the future."

My object in this chapter is to inquire what effect has been produced
upon the morals of the American people by this acknowledged dominion of
the majority?

1st.  As to the mass of the people themselves.  It is clear, if the
people not only legislate, but, when in a state of irritation or
excitement, they defy even legislation, that they are not to be compared
to _restricted_ sovereigns, but to despots, whose will and caprice are
law.  The vices of the court of a despot are, therefore, practised upon
the people; for the people become as it were the court, to whom those in
authority, or those who would be in authority, submissively bend the
knee.  A despot is not likely ever to hear the truth, for moral courage
fails where there is no law to protect it, and where honest advice may
be rewarded by summary punishment.  The people, therefore, like the
despot, are never told the truth; on the contrary, they receive and
expect the most abject submission from their courtiers, to wit, those in
office, or expectants.

Now, the President of the United States may be considered the Prime
Minister of an enlightened public, who govern themselves, and his
communication with them is in his annual message.

Let us examine what Mr Van Buren says in his last message.

First, he humbly acknowledges their power.

"A national bank," he tells them, "would impair the rightful _supremacy_
of the popular _will_."

And this he follows up with that most delicate species of flattery, that
of praising them for the very virtue which they are most deficient in;
telling them that they are "a people to whom the _truth_, however
unpromising, can _always_ be told with _safety_."

At the very time when they were defying all law and all government, he
says, "It was reserved for the American Union to test the advantage of a
government entirely dependent on the continual exercise of the popular
will, and our experience has shewn, that it is as _beneficent_ in
_practice_, as well as it is just in _theory_."

At the very time that nearly the whole Union were assisting the
insurrection in Canada with men and money, he tells them "that
temptations to interfere in the intestine commotions of neighbouring
countries have been thus far successfully resisted."

This is quite enough; Mr Van Buren's motives are to be re-elected as
president.  That is very natural on his part; but how can you expect a
people to improve who _never hear the truth_?

Mr Cooper observes, "Monarchs have incurred more hazards from follies
of their own that have grown up under the adulation of parasites, than
from the machinations of their enemies; and in a democracy, the delusion
that still would elsewhere be poured into the ears of the prince, is
poured into those of the people."

The same system is pursued by all those who would arrive at, or remain
in place and power: and what must be the consequence? that the
straight-forward, honourable, upright man is rejected by the people,
while the parasite, the adulator, the demagogue, who flatters their
opinions, asserts their supremacy, and yields to their arbitrary
demands, is the one selected by them for place and power.  Thus do they
demoralise each other; and it is not until a man has, by his abject
submission to their will, in contradiction to his own judgment and
knowledge, proved that he is unworthy of the selection which he courts,
that he is permitted to obtain it.  Thus it is that the most able and
conscientious men in the States are almost unanimously rejected.

M.  Tocqueville says, "It is a well-authenticated fact, that at the
present day the most talented men in the United States are very rarely
placed at the head of affairs; and it must be acknowledged that such has
been the result in proportion as democracy has outstepped all its former
limits: the race of American statesmen has evidently dwindled most
remarkably in the course of the last fifty years."

Indeed, no high-minded consistent man will now offer himself, and this
is one cause among many why Englishmen and foreigners have not done real
justice to the people of the United States.  The scum is uppermost, and
they do not see below it.  The prudent, the enlightened, the wise, and
the good, have all retired into the shade, preferring to pass a life of
quiet retirement, rather than submit to the insolence and dictation of a
mob.

M.  Tocqueville says, "Whilst the natural propensities of democracy
induce the people to reject the most distinguished citizens as its
rulers, these individuals are no less apt to retire from a political
career, in which it is almost impossible to retain their independence,
or to advance without degrading themselves."

Again, "At the present day the most affluent classes of society are so
entirely removed from the direction of political affairs in the United
States, that wealth, far from conferring a right to the exercise of
power, is rather an obstacle than a means of attaining to it.  The
wealthy members of the community abandon the lists, through
unwillingness to contend, and frequently to contend in vain, against the
poorest classes of their fellow-citizens.  They concentrate all their
enjoyments in the privacy of their homes, where they occupy a rank which
cannot be assumed in public, and they constitute a private society in
the State which has its own tastes and its own pleasures.  They submit
to this state of things as an irremediable evil, but they are careful
not to shew that they are galled by its continuance.  It is even not
uncommon to hear them laud the delights of a republican government, and
the advantages of democratic institutions, when they are in public.
Next to hating their enemies, men are most inclined to flatter them.
But beneath this artificial enthusiasm, and these obsequious attentions
to the preponderating power, it is easy to perceive that the wealthy
members of the community entertain a hearty distaste to the democratic
institutions of their country.  The populace is at once the object of
their scorn and of their fears.  If the maladministration of the
democracy ever brings about a revolutionary crisis, and if monarchial
constitutions ever become practicable in the United States, the truth of
what I advance will become obvious."

It appears, then, that the more respectable portion of its citizens have
retired, leaving the arena open to those who are least worthy: that the
majority dictate, and scarcely any one ventures to oppose them; if any
one does, he is immediately sacrificed; the press, obdient to its
masters, pours out its virulence, and it is incredible how rapidly a
man, unless he be of a superior mind, falls into nothingness in the
United States, when once he has dared to oppose the popular will.  He is
morally bemired, bespattered, and trod under foot, until he remains a
lifeless carcase.  He falls, never to rise again, unhonoured and
unremembered.

Captain Hamilton, speaking to one of the federalist, or aristocratical
party, received the following reply.  I have received similar ones in
more than fifty instances.  "My opinions, and I believe those of the
party to which I belonged, are unchanged; and the course of events in
this country has been such as to impress only a deeper and more thorough
conviction of their wisdom; but, in the present state of public feeling,
we _dare not_ express them.  An individual professing such opinions
would not only find himself excluded from every office of public trust
within the scope of his reasonable ambition, but he would be regarded by
his neighbours and fellow-citizens with an evil eye.  His words and
actions would become the objects of jealous and malignant scrutiny, and
he would have to sustain the unceasing attacks of a host of unscrupulous
and ferocious assailants."

Mr Cooper says, "The besetting, the _degrading vice_ of America is the
moral cowardice by which men are led to truckle to what is called public
opinion, though nine times in ten these are mere engines set in motion
by opinions the most corrupt and least respectable portion of the
community, for the most unworthy purposes.  The English are a more
respectable and constant [unconstant?] nation than the Americans, as
relates to this peculiarity."

To be popular with the majority in America, to be a favourite with the
people, you must first divest yourself of all freedom of opinion; you
must throw off all dignity; you must shake hands and drink with every
man you meet; you must be, in fact, slovenly and dirty in your
appearance, or you will be put down as an aristocrat.  I recollect once
an American candidate asked me if I would walk out with him?  I agreed;
but he requested leave to change his coat, which was a decent one, for
one very shabby; "for," says he, "I intend to look in upon some of my
constituents, and if they ever saw me in that other coat, I should lose
my election."  This cannot but remind the reader of the custom of
candidates in former democracies--standing up in the market-place as
suppliants in tattered garments, to solicit the "voices" of the people.

That the morals of the nation have retrograded from the total
destruction of the aristocracy, both in the government and in society,
which has taken place within the last ten years, is most certain.

The power has fallen into the hands of the lower orders, the offices
under government have been chiefly filled up by their favourites, either
being poor and needy men from their own class, or base and dishonest
men, who have sacrificed their principles and consciences for place.  I
shall enter more fully into this subject hereafter; it is quite
sufficient at present to say, that during Mr Adams' presidency, a Mr
Benjamin Walker was a defaulter to the amount of 18,000 dollars, and was
in consequence incarcerated for two years.  Since the democratic party
have come into power, the quantity of defaulters, and the sums which
have been embezzled of government money, are enormous, and no punishment
of any kind has been attempted.  They say it is only a breach of trust,
and that a breach of trust is not punishable, except by a civil action;
which certainly in the United States is of little avail, as the payment
of the money can always be evaded.  The consequence is that you meet
with defaulters in, I will not say the very best society generally, but
in the very best society of some portions of the United States.  I have
myself sat down to a dinner party to which I had been invited, with a
defaulter to government on each side of me.  I knew one that was setting
up for Congress, and, strange to say, his delinquency was not considered
by the people as an objection.  An American author [Voice from America]
states, "On the 17th June, 1838, the United States treasurer reported to
Congress _sixty-three_ defaulters; the total sums embezzled amounting to
one million, twenty thousand and odd dollars."

The tyranny of the majority has completely destroyed the moral courage
of the American people, and without moral courage what chance is there
of any fixed standard of morality?

M.  Tocqueville observes, "Democratic republics extend the practice of
currying favour with the many, and they introduce it into a greater
number of classes at once: this is one of the most serious reproaches
that can be addressed to them.  In democratic States organised on the
principles of the American republics this is more especially the case,
where the authority of the majority is so absolute and irresistible,
that a man must give up his rights as a citizen, and almost abjure his
quality as a human being, if he intends to stray from the track which it
lays down.

"In that immense crowd which throngs the avenues to power in the United
States, I found very few men who displayed any of that manly candour,
and that masculine independence of opinion, which frequently
distinguished the Americans in former times, and which constitutes the
leading feature in distinguished characters wheresoever they may be
found.  It seems, at first sight, as if all the minds of the Americans
were formed upon one model, so accurately do they correspond in their
manner of judging.  A stranger does, indeed, sometimes meet with
Americans who dissent from these rigorous formularies; with men who
deplore the defects of the laws; the mutability and the ignorance of
democracy; who even go so far as to observe the evil tendencies which
impair the national character, and to point out such remedies as it
might be possible to apply; but no one is there to hear these things
beside yourself, and you, to whom these secret reflections are confided,
are a stranger and a bird of passage.  They are very ready to
communicate truths which are useless to you, but they continue to hold a
different language in public."  See note 2.

There are a few exceptions--Clay and Webster are men of such power as to
be able, to a certain degree, to hold their independence.  Dr Channing
has proved himself an honour to his country and to the world.  Mr
Cooper has also great merit in this point and no man has certainly shewn
more moral courage, let his case be good or not, than Garrison, the
leader of the abolition party.

But with these few and remarkable exceptions, moral courage is almost
prostrate in the United States.  The most decided specimen I met with to
the contrary was at Cincinnati, when a large portion of the principal
inhabitants ventured to express their opinion, contrary to the will of
the majority, in my defence, and boldly proclaimed their opinions by
inviting me to a public dinner.  I told them my opinion of their
behaviour, and I gave them my thanks.  I repeat my opinion and my thanks
now; they had much to contend with, but they resisted boldly; and not
only from that remarkable instance of daring to oppose public opinion
when all others quailed, but from many other circumstances, I have an
idea that Cincinnati will one day take an important lead, as much from
the spirit and courage of her citizens, as from her peculiarly fortunate
position.  I had a striking instance to the contrary at St Louis, when
they paraded me in effigy through the streets.  Certain young
Bostonians, who would have been glad enough to have seized my hand when
in the Eastern States, before I had happened to affront the majority,
kept aloof, or shuffled away, so as not to be obliged to recognise me.
Such have been the demoralising effects of the tyranny of public opinion
in the short space of fifty years, and I will now wind up this chapter
by submitting to the reader extracts from the two French authors, one of
whom describes America in 1782, and the other in 1835.

AMERICA IN 1782.

"Je vais, disais-je, mettre a la voile aujour-d'hui; je m'eloigne avec
un regret infini d'un pays ou l'on est, sans obstacle et sans
inconvenient, ce qu'on devrait etre partout, sincere et libre."--"On y
pense, on y dit, on y fait ce qu'on veut.  Rien ne vous oblige d'y etre
ni faux, ni bas, ni flatteur.  Personne ne se choque de la singularite
de vos manieres ni de vos gouts."--_Memoires ou Souvenirs de Monsieur de
Segur_, volume I, page 409.

AMERICA IN 1835.

"L'Amerique est donc un pays de liberte, ou pour ne blesser personne, on
ne doit parler librement, ni des gouvernans, ni des gouvernes, ni des
eutreprises publiques, ni des entreprises privees; de rien, enfin, de ce
qu'on y rencontre si non peut-etre du climat et du sol; encore
trouve-t-on des Americains prets a defendre l'un et l'autre, comme s'ils
avaient concouru a les former."--_Monsieur de Tocqueville sur la
Democratie aux Etats Unis de l'Amerique_, volume II, page 118.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  A striking instance of the excesses which may be occasioned by
the despotism of the majority, occurred at Baltimore in 1812.  At that
time the war was very popular in Baltimore.  A journal, which had taken
the other side of the question, excited the indignation of the
inhabitants by its opposition.  The populace assembled, broke the
printing-presses, and attacked the houses of the newspaper editors.  The
militia was called out, but no one obeyed the call, and the only means
of saving the poor wretches, who were threatened by the frenzy of the
mob, were to throw them into prison as common malefactors.  But even
this precaution was ineffectual; the mob collected again during the
night, the magistrates again made a vain attempt to call out the
militia, the prison was forced, one of the newspaper editors was killed
upon the spot, and the others were left for dead when the guilty parties
were brought to trial, they were _acquitted_ by the jury.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  Mr Carey in his introduction says, "_Freedom_ of _discussion_
is highly promotive of the power of protection.  The _free expressions
of opinion_ in relation to matters of public interest is indispensable
to security."

He denies that we have it in England, and would prove that this exists
in America: and how?

1st.  By the permission of every man to be of any religion he pleases!!

2nd.  By the _freedom_ of the press in the United States!!



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER THREE.

PATRIOTISM.

This is a word of very doubtful meaning; and until we have the power to
analyse the secret springs of action, it is impossible to say who is or
who is not a patriot.  The Chartist, the White Boy, may really be
patriots in their hearts, although they are attempting revolution, and
are looked upon as the enemies of good order.  Joseph Hume _may_ be a
patriot, so may O'Connell, so may --; but never mind; I consider that if
in most cases, in all countries the word egotism were substituted it
would be more correct, and particularly so in America.

M.  Tocqueville says, "The inhabitants of the United States talk a great
deal of their attachment to their country; but I confess that I do not
rely upon that calculating patriotism which is founded upon interest,
and which a change in the interests at stake may obliterate."

The fact is, that the American is aware that what affects the general
prosperity must affect the individual, and he therefore is anxious for
the general prosperity; he also considers that he assists to legislate
for the country, and is therefore equally interested in such legislature
being prosperous; if, therefore, you attack his country, you attack him
personally--you wound his vanity and self-love.

In America it is not our rulers who have done wrong or right; it is we
(or rather I) who have done wrong or right, and the consequence is, that
the American is _rather_ irritable on the subject, as every attack is
taken as personal.  It is quite ridiculous to observe how some of the
very best of the Americans are tickled when you praise their country and
institutions; how they will wince at any qualification in your praise,
and actually writhe under any positive disparagement.  They _will_ put
questions, even if they anticipate an unfavourable answer; they cannot
help it.  What is the reason of this?  Simply their better sense
wrestling with the errors of education and long-cherished fallacies.
They feel that their institutions do not work as they would wish; that
the theory is not borne out by the practice, and they want support
against their own convictions.  They cannot bear to eradicate
deep-rooted prejudices, which have been from their earliest days a
source of pride and vain-glory; and to acknowledge that what they have
considered as most perfect, what they have boasted of as a _lesson_ to
other nations, what they have suffered so much to uphold, in
surrendering their liberty of speech, of action, and of opinion, has
after all proved to be a miserable failure, and instead of a lesson to
other nations--a warning.

Yet such are the doubts, the misgivings which fluctuate in, and irritate
the minds of a very large proportion of the Americans; and such is the
decided conviction of a portion who retire into obscurity and are
silent; and every year adds to the number of both these parties.  They
remind one of a husband who, having married for love, and supposed his
wife to be perfection, gradually finds out that she is full of faults,
and renders him anything but happy; but his pride will not allow him to
acknowledge that he has committed an error in his choice, and he
continues before the world to descant upon her virtues, and to conceal
her errors, while he feels that his home is miserable.

It is because it is more egotistical that the patriotism of the American
is more easily roused and more easily affronted.  He has been educated
to despise all other countries, and to look upon his own as the first in
the world; he has been taught that all other nations are slaves to
despots, and that the American citizen only is free, and this is never
contradicted.  For although thousands may in their own hearts feel the
falsehood of their assertions, there is not one who will venture to
express his opinion.  The government sets the example, the press follows
it, and the people receive the incense of flattery, which in other
countries is offered to the court alone; and if it were not for the
occasional compunctions and doubts, which his real good sense will
sometimes visit him with, the more enlightened American would be as
happy in his own delusions, as the majority most certainly may be said
to be.

M.  Tocqueville says, "For the last fifty years no pains have been
spared to convince the inhabitants of the United States that they
constitute the only religious, enlightened, and free people.  They
perceive that, for the present, their own democratic institutions
succeed, while those of other countries fall; hence they conceive an
overweening opinion of their superiority, and they are not very remote
from believing themselves to belong to a distinct race of mankind."

There are, however, other causes which assist this delusion on the part
of the majority of the Americans; the principal of which is the want of
comparison.  The Americans are too far removed from the Old Continent,
and are too much occupied even if they were not, to have time to visit
it, and make the comparison between the settled countries and their own.
America is so vast, that if they travel in it, their ideas of their own
importance become magnified.  The only comparisons they are able to make
are only as to the quantity of square acres in each country, which, of
course, is vastly in their favour.

Mr Sanderson, the American, in his clever Sketches of Paris, observes,
"It is certainly of much value in the life of an American gentleman to
visit these old countries, if it were only to form a just estimate of
his own, which he is continually liable to mistake, and always to
overrate without objects of comparison; `_nimium se aestimet necesse
est, qui se nemini comparat_.'  He will always think himself wise who
sees nobody wiser; and to know the customs and institutions of foreign
countries, which one cannot know well without residing there, is
certainly the complement of a good education."

After all, is there not a happiness in this delusion on the part of the
American majority, and is not the feeling of admiration of their own
country borrowed from ourselves?  The feeling may be more strong with
the Americans, because it is more egotistical; but it certainly is the
_English_ feeling transplanted, and growing in a ranker soil.  We may
accuse the Americans of conceit, of wilful blindness, of obstinacy; but
there is after all a great good in being contented with yourself and
yours.  The English shew it differently; but the English are not so
good-tempered as the Americans.  They grumble at everything; they know
the faults of their institutions, but at the same time they will allow
of no interference.  Grumbling is a luxury so great, that an Englishman
will permit it only to himself.  The Englishman grumbles at his
government, under which he enjoys more rational liberty than the
individual of any other nation in the world.  The American, ruled by the
despotism of the majority, and without liberty of opinion or speech,
praises his institutions to the skies.  The Englishman grumbles at his
climate, which, if we were to judge from the vigour and perfection of
the inhabitants, is, notwithstanding its humidity, one of the best in
the world.  The American vaunts his above all others, and even thinks it
necessary to apologise for a bad day, although the climate, from its
sudden extremes, withers up beauty, and destroys the nervous system.  In
everything connected with, and relating to, America, the American has
the same feeling.  Calculating, wholly matter-of-fact and utilitarian in
his ideas, without a poetic sense of his own, he is annoyed if a
stranger does not express that rapture at their rivers, waterfalls, and
woodland scenery, which he himself does not feel.  As far as America is
concerned, everything is for the best in this best of all possible
countries.  It is laughable, yet praiseworthy, to observe how the whole
nation will stoop down to fan the slightest spark which is elicited of
native genius--like the London citizen, who is enraptured with his own
stunted cucumbers, which he has raised at ten times the expense which
would have purchased fine ones in the market.  It were almost a pity
that the American should be awakened from his dream, if it were not that
the arrogance and conceit arising from it may eventually plunge him into
difficulty.

But let us be fair; America is the country of enthusiasm and hope, and
we must not be too severe upon what from a virgin soil has, sprung up
too luxuriantly.  It is but the English _amor patriae_ carried to too
great an excess.  The Americans are great boasters; but are we far
behind them?  One of our most popular songs runs as follows:--

  "We ne'er see our foes, but we wish them to stay;
  They never see us, but they wish us away."

What can be more bragging, or more untrue, than the words of these
lines?  In the same way in England the common people hold it as a
proverb, that, "one Englishman can beat three Frenchmen," but there are
not many Englishmen who would succeed in the attempt.  Nor is it
altogether wrong to encourage these feelings; although arrogance is a
fault in an individual, in a national point of view, it often becomes
the incentive to great actions, and, if not excessive, insures the
success inspired by confidence.  As by giving people credit for a virtue
which they have not, you very often produce that virtue in them, I think
it not unwise to implant this feeling in the hearts of the lower
classes, who if they firmly believe that they can beat three Frenchmen,
will at all events attempt to do it.  That too great success is
dangerous, and that the feeling of arrogance produced by it may lead us
into the error of despising our enemy, we ourselves showed an example of
in our first contest with America during the last war.  In that point
America and England have now changed positions, and from false
education, want of comparison, and unexpected success in their struggle
with us, they are now much more arrogant than we were when most flushed
with victory.  They are blind to their own faults and to the merits of
others, and while they are so it is clear that they will offend
strangers, and never improve themselves.  I have often laughed at the
false estimate held by the majority in America as to England.  One told
me, with a patronising air, that, "in a short time, England would only
be known as having been the mother of America."

"When you go into our interior, Captain," said a New York gentleman to
me, "you will see plants, such as rhododendrons, magnolias, and hundreds
of others, such as they have no conception of in your own country."

One of Jim Crow's verses in America is a fair copy from us--

  "Englishman he beat
  Two French or Portugee;
  Yankee-doodle come down,
  Whip them all three."

But an excellent specimen of the effect of American education was given
the other day in this country, by an American lad of fourteen or fifteen
years old.  He was at a dinner party, and after dinner the conversation
turned upon the merits of the Duke of Wellington.  After hearing the
just encomiums for some time with fidgetty impatience, the lad rose from
his chair, "You talk about your Duke of Wellington, what do you say to
Washington; do you pretend to compare Wellington to Washington?  Now,
I'll just tell you, if Washington could be standing here now, and the
Duke of Wellington was only to look him in the face, why, Sir,
Wellington would drop down dead in an instant."  This I was told by the
gentleman at whose table it occurred.

Even when they can use their eyes, they will not.  I overheard a
conversation on the deck of a steam-boat between a man who had just
arrived from England and another.  "Have they much trade at Liverpool?"
inquired the latter.  "Yes, they've some."  "And at London?"  "Not much
there, I reckon.  New York, Sir, is the emporium of the whole world."

This national vanity is fed in every possible way.  At one of the
museums, I asked the subject of a picture representing a naval
engagement; the man (supposing I was an American, I presume) replied,
"That ship there," pointing to one twice as big as the other, "is the
Macedonian English frigate, and that other frigate," pointing to the
small one, "is the Constitution American frigate, which captured her in
less than five minutes."  Indeed, so great has this feeling become from
indulgence, that they will not allow anything to stand in its way, and
will sacrifice anybody or anything to support it.  It was not until I
arrived in the United States that I was informed by several people that
Captain Lawrence, who commanded the Chesapeake, was drunk when he went
into action.  Speaking of the action, one man shook his head, and said,
"Pity poor Lawrence had his failing; he was otherwise a good officer."
I was often told the same thing, and a greater libel was never uttered;
but thus was a gallant officer's character sacrificed to sooth the
national vanity.  I hardly need observe, that the American naval
officers are as much disgusted with the assertion as I was myself.  That
Lawrence fought under disadvantages--that many of his ship's company,
hastily collected together from leave, were not sober, and that there
was a want of organisation from just coming out of harbour,--is true,
and quite sufficient to account for his defeat; but I have the evidence
of those who walked with him down to his boat, that he was perfectly
sober, cool, and collected, as he always had proved himself to be.  But
there is no gratitude in a democracy, and to be unfortunate is to be
guilty.

There is a great deal of patriotism of one sort or the other in the
American women.  I recollect once, when conversing with a highly
cultivated and beautiful American woman, I inquired if she knew a lady
who had been some time in England, and who was a great favourite of
mine.  She replied, "Yes."  "Don't you like her?"  "To confess the
truth, I do not," replied she; "she is _too English_ for me."  "That is
to say, she likes England and the English."  "That is what I mean."  I
replied, that, "had she been in England, she would probably have become
_too English_ also; for, with her cultivated and elegant ideas, she must
naturally have been pleased with the refinement, luxury, and established
grades in society, which it had taken eight hundred years to produce."
"If that is to be the case, I hope I may never go to England."

Now, this was _true_ patriotism, and there is much true patriotism among
the higher classes of the American women; with them there is no alloy of
egotism.

Indeed, all the women in America are very _patriotic_; but I do not give
them all the same credit.  In the first place, they are controlled by
public opinion as much as the men are; and without assumed patriotism
they would have no chance of getting husbands.  As you descend in the
scale, so are they the more noisy; and, I imagine, for that very reason
the less sincere.

Among what may be termed the middling classes, I have been very much
amused with the compound of vanity and ignorance which I have met with.
Among this class they can read and write; but almost all their knowledge
is confined to their own country, especially in geography, which I soon
discovered.  It was hard to beat them on American ground, but as soon as
you got them off that they were defeated.  I wish the reader to
understand particularly, that I am not speaking now of the well-bred
Americans, but of that portion which would with us be considered as on a
par with the middle class of shop-keepers; for I had a very extensive
acquaintance.  My amusement was, to make some comparison between the two
countries, which I knew would immediately bring on the conflict I
desired; and not without danger, for I sometimes expected, in the ardour
of their patriotism, to meet with the fate of Orpheus.

I soon found that the more I granted, the more they demanded; and that
the best way was never to grant any thing.  I was once in a room full of
the softer sex, chiefly girls, of all ages; when the mamma of a portion
of them, who was sitting on the sofa, as we mentioned steam, said, "Well
now, Captain, you will allow that we are a-head of you there."

"No," replied I, "quite the contrary.  Our steam-boats go all over the
world--your's are afraid to leave the rivers."

"Well now, Captain, I suppose you'll allow America is a bit bigger
country than England?"

"It's rather broader--but, if I recollect right, it's not quite so
long."

"Why, Captain!"

"Well, only look at the map."

"Why, isn't the Mississippi a bigger river than you have in England?"

"Bigger?  Pooh! haven't we got the Thames?"

"The Thames? why that's no river at all."

"Isn't it?  Just look at the map, and measure them."

"Well, now, Captain, I tell you what, you call your Britain, the
Mistress of the seas, yet we whipped you well, and you know that."

"Oh! yes--you refer to the Shannon and Chesapeake, don't you?"

"No! not that time, because Lawrence was drunk, they say; but didn't we
_whip_ you well at New Orleans?"

"No, you didn't."

"No? oh, Captain!"

"I say you did not.--If your people had come out from behind their
cotton bales and sugar casks, we'd have knocked you all into a cocked
hat; but they wouldn't come out, so we walked away in disgust."

"Now, Captain, that's romancing--that won't do."  Here the little ones
joined in the cry, "We did beat you, and you know it."  And, hauling me
into the centre of the room, they joined hands in a circle, and danced
round me, singing:

  "Yankee doodle is a tune,
  Which is nation handy.
  All the British ran away
  At Yankee doodle dandy."

I shall conclude by stating that this feeling, call it patriotism, or
what you please, is so strongly implanted in the bosom of the American
by education and association, that wherever, or whenever, the national
honour or character is called into question, there is no sacrifice which
they will not make to keep up appearances.  It is this which induces
them to acquit murderers, to hush up suicides, or any other offence
which may reflect upon their asserted morality.  I would put no
confidence even in an official document from the government, for I have
already ascertained how they will invariably be twisted, so as to give
no offence to the majority; and the base adulation of the government to
the people is such, that it dare not tell them the truth, or publish any
thing which might wound its self-esteem.

I shall conclude with two extracts from a work of Mr Cooper, the
American:--

"We are almost entirely wanting in national pride, though abundantly
supplied with an _irritable vanity_, which might rise to pride had we
greater confidence in our facts."

"We have the sensitiveness of provincials, increased by the
consciousness of having our spurs to earn on all matters of glory and
renown, and _our jealousy extends even to the reputations of the cats
and dogs_."



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER FOUR.

ENGLAND AND THE UNITED STATES.

Captain Hamilton has, in his work, expressed his opinion that the
Americans have no feeling of ill-will against this country.  If Captain
Hamilton had stated that the _gentlemen_ and more respectable portion of
the Americans, such as the New York merchants, etcetera, had no feeling
against this country, and were most anxious to keep on good terms with
us, he would have been much more correct.  You will find all the
respectable portion of the daily press using their best endeavours to
reconcile any animosities, and there is nothing which an American
gentleman is more eloquent upon, when he falls in with an Englishman,
than in trying to convince him that there is no hostile feeling against
this country.  [See note 1.] I had not been a week at New York before I
had this assurance given me at least twenty times, and I felt inclined
at first to believe it: but I soon discovered that this feeling was only
confined to a small minority, and that the feelings towards England of
the majority, or democratic party, were of _deep irreconcilable hatred_.
I am sorry to assert this; but it is better be known, that we may not
be misled by any pretended good-will on the part of the government, or
the partial good-will of a few enlightened individuals.  Even those who
have a feeling of regard and admiration for our country do not venture
to make it known, and it would place them in so very unpleasant a
situation, that they can scarcely be blamed for keeping their opinions
to themselves.  With the English they express it warmly, and I believe
them to be sincere; but not being openly avowed by a few, it is not
communicated or spread by kindling similar warmth in the hearts of
others.  Indeed it is not surprising, when we consider the national
character, that there should be an ill feeling towards England; it would
be much more strange if the feeling did not exist.  That the Americans
should, after their struggle for independence, have felt irritated
against the mother country, is natural; they had been oppressed--they
had successfully resented the oppression, and emancipated themselves.
But still the feeling at that time was different from the one which at
present exists.  Then it might be compared to the feeling in the heart
of a younger son of an ancient house, who had been compelled by harsh
treatment to disunite from the head of the family, and provide for
himself--still proud of his origin, yet resentful at the remembrance of
injury--at times vindictive, at others full of tenderness and respect.
The aristocratical and the democratical impulses by turns gaining the
ascendant it was then a manly, fine feeling.  The war of 1814, the most
fatal event in the short American history, would not have been attended
with any increase of ill-will, as the Americans were satisfied with
their successful repulse of our attempts to invade the country, and
their unexpected good fortune in their naval conflicts.  They felt that
they had consideration and respect in the eyes of other nations, and,
what was to them still gratifying, the respect of England herself.  In
every point they were fortunate, for a peace was concluded upon
honourable terms just as they were beginning to feel the bitter
consequences of the war.  But the effect of this war was to imbue the
people with a strong idea of their military prowess, and the national
glory became their favourite theme.  Their hero, General was raised to
the presidency by the democratical party, and ever since the Americans
have been ready to bully or quarrel with anybody and about everything.

This feeling becomes stronger every day.  They want to _whip_ the whole
world.  The wise and prudent perceive the folly of this, and try all
they can to produce a better feeling; but the majority are now
irresistible, and their fiat will decide upon war or peace.  The
government is powerless in opposition to it; all it can do is to give a
legal appearance to any act of violence.

This idea of their own prowess will be one cause of danger to their
institutions, for war must ever be fatal to democracy.  In this country,
during peace, we became more and more democratic; but whenever we are
again forced into war, the reins will be again tightened from necessity,
and thus war must ever interfere with free institutions.  A convincing
proof of the idea the Americans have of their own prowess was when
General Jackson made the claim for compensation from the French.
Through the intermediation of England the claim was adjusted, and peace
preserved; and the Americans are little aware what a debt of gratitude
they owe to this country for its interference.  They were totally
ignorant of the power and resources of France.  They had an idea, and I
was told so fifty times, that France paid the money from _fear_, and
that if she had not, they would have "_whipped_ her into the little end
of nothing."

I do not doubt that the Americans would have tried their best; but I am
of opinion, (not withstanding the Americans would have been partially,
from their acknowledged bravery, successful) that in two years France,
with her means, which are well known to, and appreciated by, the
English, would (to use their own terms again,) have made "an everlasting
smash" of the United States, and the Americans would have had to
conclude an ignominious peace.  I am aware that this idea will be
scouted in America as absurd; but still I am well persuaded that any
protracted war would not only be their ruin in a pecuniary point of
view, but fatal to their institutions.  But to return.

There are many reasons why the Americans have an inveterate dislike to
this country.  In the first place, they are educated to dislike us and
our monarchical institutions; their short history points out to them
that we have been their only oppressor in the first instance, and their
opponent ever since.  Their annual celebration of the independence is an
opportunity for vituperation of this country which is never lost sight
of.  Their national vanity is hurt by feeling what they would fain
believe, that they are not the "greatest nation on earth;" that they are
indebted to us, and the credit we give them, for their prosperity and
rapid advance; that they must still look to us for their literature and
the fine arts, and that, in short, they are still dependent upon
England.  I have before observed, that this hostile spirit against us is
fanned by discontented emigrants, and by those authors who, to become
popular with the majority, laud their own country and defame England;
but the great cause of this increase of hostility against us is the
democratical party having come into power, and who consider it necessary
to excite animosity against this country.  When ever it is requisite to
throw a tub to the whale, the press is immediately full of abuse;
everything is attributed to England, and the machinations of England;
she is, by their accounts, here, there, and everywhere, plotting
mischief and injury, from the Gulf of Florida to the Rocky Mountains.
If we are to believe the democratic press, England is the cause of
everything offensive to the majority--if money is scarce, it is England
that has occasioned it--if credit is bad, it is England--if eggs are not
fresh or beef is tough, it is, it must be, England.  They remind you of
the parody upon Fitzgerald in Smith's humorous and witty `Rejected
Addresses,' when he is supposed to write against Buonaparte:

  Who made the quartern loaf and Luddites rise,
  Who fills the butchers' shops with large blue flies
  With a foul earthquake ravaged the Carraccas,
  And raised the price of dry goods and tobaccos?

Why, England.  And all this the majority do steadfastly believe, because
they wish to believe it.

How, then, is it possible that the lower classes in the United States,
(and the lower and unenlightened principally compose the majority,) can
have other than feelings of ill-will towards this country? and of what
avail is it to us that the high-minded and sensible portion think
otherwise, when they are in such a trifling minority, and afraid to
express their sentiments?  When we talk about a nation, we look to the
mass, and that the mass are hostile, and inveterately hostile to this
country, is a most undeniable fact.

There is another cause of hostility which I have not adverted to, the
remarks upon them by travellers in their country, such as I am now
making; but as the Americans never hear the truth from their own
countrymen, it is only from foreigners [see note 2] that they can.  Of
course, after having been accustomed to flattery from their earliest
days, the truth, when it does come, falls more heavily, and the injury
and insult which they consider they have received is never forgotten.

Among the American authors who have increased the ill-will of his
countrymen towards this country, Mr Cooper stands pre-eminent.  Mr
Bulwer has observed that the character and opinions of an author may be
pretty fairly estimated by his writings.  This is true, but they may be
much better estimated by one species of writing than by another.  In
works of invention or imagination, it is but now and then, by an
incidental remark, that we can obtain a clue to the author's feelings.
Carried away by the interest of the story, and the vivid scene presented
to the imagination, we are apt to form a better opinion of the author
than he deserves, because we feel kindly and grateful towards him for
the amusement which he has afforded us; but when a writer puts off the
holiday dress of fiction, and appears before us in his every day
costume, giving us his thoughts and feelings upon matters of fact, then
it is that we can appreciate the real character of the author.  Mr
Cooper's character is not to be gained by reading his `Pilot,' but it
may be fairly estimated by reading his `Travels in Switzerland,' and his
remarks upon England.  If, then, we are to judge of Mr Cooper by the
above works, I have no hesitation in asserting that he appears to be a
disappointed democrat, with a determined hostility to England and the
English.  This hostility on the part of Mr Cooper cannot proceed from
any want of attention shewn him in this country, or want of
acknowledgment of his merits as an author.  It must be sought for
elsewhere.  The attacks upon the English in a work professed to be
written upon Switzerland, prove how rancorous this feeling is on his
part; and not all the works published by English travellers upon America
have added so much to the hostile feeling against us, as Mr Cooper has
done by his writings alone.  Mr Cooper would appear to wish to detach
his countrymen, not only from us, but from the whole European Continent.
He tells them in his work on Switzerland, that they are not liked or
esteemed any where, and that to acknowledge yourself an American is
quite sufficient to make those recoil who were intending to advance.
Mr Cooper is, in my opinion, very much mistaken in this point;--the
people of the Continent do not as yet know enough of the Americans to
decide upon their national character.  He observes very truly, that no
one appears to think any thing about the twelve millions; why so?
because in Switzerland, Germany, and other nations in the heart of the
Continent, they have no interest about a nation so widely separated from
them, and from intercourse with which they receive neither profit nor
loss.  Neither do they think about the millions in South America, and
not caring or hearing about them they can have formed no ideas of their
character as a nation.  If, then, the Americans are shunned (which I do
not believe they are, for they are generally supposed to be a variety of
Englishmen), it must be from the conduct of those individuals of the
American nation who have travelled there, and not because, as Mr Cooper
would imply, they have a democratic form of government.  Have not the
Swiss something similar, and are they shunned?  Who cares what may be
the form of government of a country divided from them by three or four
thousand miles of water, and of whom they have only read?  Every nation,
as well as every individual, makes its own character; but Mr Cooper
would prove that the dislike shewn to the Americans abroad is owing to
the slander of them by the English, and he points out that in the books
containing the names of travellers, he no less than twenty-five times
observed offensive remarks written beneath the names of those who
acknowledged themselves Americans.  These books were at different
places, places to which all tourists in Switzerland naturally repair.
Did it never occur to Mr Cooper that one young fool of an Englishman,
during his tour, might have been the author of all these obnoxious
remarks, and is the folly of one insignificant individual to be gravely
commented upon in a widely disseminated work, so as to occasion or
increase the national ill-will?  Surely there is little wisdom and much
captiousness in this feeling.

How blinded by his ill-will must Mr Cooper be, to enter into a long
discussion in the work I refer to, to prove that England deserves the
title, among other national characteristics, of a _blackguarding
nation_! founding his assertion upon the language of our daily press.
If the English, judged by the _press_, are a blackguarding nation, what
are the Americans, if they are to be judged by the same standard? we
must be indebted to the Americans themselves for an epithet.  To wind
up, he more than once pronounced the English to be _parvenus_.  There is
an old proverb which says, "A man whose house is built of glass should
not be the first to throw stones;" and that these last two charges
should be brought against us by an American, is certainly somewhat
singular and unfortunate.

That there should be a hostile feeling when English men go over to
America to compete with them in business or in any profession, is
natural; it would be the same everywhere; this feeling, however, in the
United States is usually shewn by an attack upon the character of the
party, so as to influence the public against him.  There was an American
practising phrenology, when a phrenologist arrived from England.  As
this opposition was not agreeable, the American immediately circulated a
report that the English phrenologist had asserted that he had examined
the skulls of many Americans, and that he had never fallen in with such
_thick-headed fellows_ in his life.  This was quite sufficient--the
English operator was obliged to _clear out_ as fast as he could, and try
his fortune elsewhere.

The two following placards were given me; they were pasted all over the
city.  What the offence was I never heard, but they are very amusing
documents.  It is the first time, I believe, that public singers were
described as _aristocrats_, and Englishmen of the first _stamp_.

"Americans:--

"It remains with you to say whether or not you will be imposed upon by
these base aristocrats, who come from England to America, in order to
gain a livelihood, and despise the land that gives them bread.

"Some few years since there came to this country three `gentlemen
players,' who were received with open arms by the Americans, and treated
more as brothers than strangers; when their pockets were full, in
requital to our best endeavours to raise them to their merit, the
ungrateful dogs turned round and abused us.  It is useless, at present,
to give the names of two of those _gentlemen_, as they are not now
candidates for public favour; but there is one, Mr Hodges, who is at
present engaged at the Pavilion Theatre.  This _thing_ has said publicly
that the Americans were all `a parcel of ignoramuses,' and that `the
yankee players' were `perfect fools, not possessing the least particle
of talent,' etcetera.  We must be brief--should we repeat all we have
heard it would fill a page of the News.

"Will the Americans be abused in this way without retaliation?  We are
always willing to bestow that respect which is due to strangers; but
when our kindness is treated with contempt, and in return receive base
epithets and abuse, let us `block the game.'

"Once for all--will you permit this thing in pantaloons and whiskers,
this brainless, un-ideaed _cub_, whom a thousand years will not suffice
to lick into a bear, longer to impose upon your good-natures?  If so, we
shall conclude you have lost all of that spirit so characteristic of
true born Americans.

"A word to Mr (?)  Hodges.--When these meet your eye, a _dignified
contempt_ will most opportunely swell your breast--such is ever the case
with the _coward_!  In affected scorn, you will seek a shelter from the
danger you _dare_ not brave, but we warn you that one day must overtake
you.

"Several Americans."

"AMERICANS ATTEND!

"Americans:--If there is a spark of that spirit in your blood with which
your forefathers bequeathed you, I hope you will shew it when men come
among us from a foreign shore to get a living, and while here to speak
in terms towards our country and ourselves, derogatory to the feelings
of an American to listen to.  These men that I speak of are Mr Hodges
and Mr Corri, Englishmen of the _first stamp_, who declare that the
Yankees, (as we are all termed, and proud of the name I dare say,) `are
a parcel of ignoramuses--cannibals--don't know how to appreciate
talent'--they possess very little I am certain.  However, the thing
stands thus: they have slandered our country, they have slandered _us_;
and if they are permitted to play upon the boards of the _Eagle
Theatre_, I shall conclude that we have lost all that spunk so
characteristic in a True Born American."

There certainly is no good feeling in the _majority_ towards England,
and this is continually shewn in a variety of instances, particularly if
there is any excitement from distress or other causes.  At the time that
the great commercial distress took place, the abuse of England was
beyond all bounds; and in a public meeting of democrats at Philadelphia,
the first resolution passed was, "that they did not owe England one
farthing," and this is the general outcry of the lower orders when any
thing was wrong.  I have often argued with them on this subject, and
never could convince them.  This country has now _fifty-five millions
sterling_ invested in American securities, which is a large sum, and the
_majority_ consider that a war will spunge out this debt.  Their
argument which they constantly urged against me, has more soundness in
it than would be supposed:--"If you declare war with us, what is the
first thing you do, you seize all American vessels and all American
property that you can lay hold of, which have entered into your ports on
the faith of peace between the two countries.  Now, why have we not an
equal right to seize all English property whenever we can find it in
this country?"  But this, as I have observed, is the language of the
democrats and locofocos.  There are thousands of honourable men in
America, not only as merchants, but in every other class, who are most
anxious to keep on good terms with us, and have the kindest feelings
towards England.  Unfortunately they are but few compared to the
majority, and much as they may regret the hostile feelings towards us, I
am afraid that it is wholly out of their power to prevent their
increase, which will be in exact proportion with the increase of the
popular sway.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  Soon after I arrived at New York, the naval officers very
kindly sent me a diploma xxx member of their Lyceum, over at Brooklyn.
I went over to visit the Lyceum, and, among the portraits in the most
conspicuous part of the room was that of William the Fourth, with the
"Sailor King" written underneath it in large capitals.  As for the
present Queen, her health has been repeatedly drank in my presence;
indeed her accession to our throne appeared to have put a large portion
of the Americans in good humour with monarchy.  Up to the present she
has been quite a pet of theirs, and they are continually asking
questions concerning her.  The fact is, that the Americans shew such
outward deference to the other sex, that I do not think they would have
any objection themselves to be governed by it; and if ever a monarchy
were attempted in the United States, the first reigning sovereign ought
to be a _very pretty woman_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  A proof that the feeling against England is increasing, is the
singular fact that latterly they insist upon calling the English
_foreigners_, a term which they formerly applied to all other nations,
but not to _ourselves_.



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER FIVE.

SOCIETY.--GENERAL CHARACTER, ETCETERA.

The character of the Americans is that of a restless, uneasy people--
they cannot sit still, they cannot listen attentively, unless the theme
be politics or dollars--they must do something, and, like children, if
they cannot do anything else, they will do mischief--their curiosity is
unbounded, and they are very capricious.  Acting upon impulse, they are
very generous at one moment, and without a spark of charity the next.
They are good-tempered, and possess great energy, ingenuity, bravery,
and presence of mind.  Such is the estimate I have formed of their
general character, independent of the demoralising effects of their
institutions, which renders it so anomalous.

The American author, Mr Sanderson, very truly observes of his
countrymen, that, "they have grown vicious without the refinements and
distractions of the fine arts and liberal amusements."  The Americans
have few amusements; they are too busy.  Athletic sports they are
indifferent to; they look only to those entertainments which feed their
passion for excitement.  The theatre is almost their only resort, and
even that is not so well attended as it might be, considering their
means.  There are some very good and well-conducted theatres in America:
the best are the Park and National at New York, the Tremont at Boston,
and the Chesnut Street Theatre at Philadelphia.  The American _stock_
actors, as they term those who are not considered as _stars_, are better
than our own; but were the theatres to depend upon stock actors they
would be deserted--the love of novelty is the chief inducement of the
Americans to frequent the theatre, and they look for importations of
star actors from this country as regularly as they do for our
manufactured goods, or the fashions from Paris.  In most of the large
cities they have two theatres; one for legitimate drama, and the other
for melodrama, as the Bowery Theatre at New York, and the Walnut Street
Theatre in Philadelphia; these latter are seldom visited by the
aristocratical portion of the citizens.

The National Theatre at New York was originally built as an opera house,
and the company procured from the Havannah; but the opera, from want of
support, was a failure.  It has since been taken by Mr James Wallack,
in opposition to the Park Theatre.  The two first seasons its success
was indifferent; the Park having the advantage in situation, as well as
of a long-standing reputation.  But, latterly, from the well-known
talent and superior management of Mr Wallack, and from his unwearied
exertions in providing novelties for the American public, it has been
very successful; so much so, that it is said this last year to have
decidedly obtained the superiority over its rival.  I have seen some
splendid representations in the National Theatre, with a propriety in
scenery and costume which is seldom exceeded even in our great theatres.

Indeed, in three seasons, Mr Wallack has done much to improve the
national taste; and from his exertions, the theatres in general in
America may be said to have been much benefited.  But there is one
objection to this rivalry between the Park and National; which is, that
the _stars_ go out too fast, and they will soon be all expended.
Formerly things went on very regularly: Mr Price sent out to Mr
Simpson, duly invoiced, a certain portion of talent for every season;
and Mr Simpson, who is a very clever manager, first worked it up at New
York, and then dispatched it to Boston, Philadelphia, and the other
theatres in the Union.  But, now, if Mr Simpson has two stars sent to
him, James Wallack comes home, and takes out three; whereupon, Mr Price
sends out a bigger star; and so they go on; working up the stars so
fast, that the supply will never equal the demand.  There are not more
than two or three actors of eminence in England, who have not already
made their appearance on the American boards; and next season will
probably use them up.  It is true, that some actors can return there
again and again; as Power, who is most deservedly a favourite with them,
and Ellen Tree, who is equally so.  Celeste has realised a large
fortune.  Mrs Wood, and the Keeleys, were also very great favourites;
but there are not many actors who can venture there a second time; at
least, not until a certain interval has elapsed for the Americans to
forget them.  When there are no longer any stars, the theatres will not
be so well attended; as, indeed, is the case every where.  To prove how
fond the Americans are of anything that excites them, I will mention a
representation which I one day went to see--that of the "Infernal
Regions."  There were two or three of these shewn in the different
cities in the States.  I saw the remnants of another, myself; but, as
the museum-keeper very appropriately observed to me, "It was a fine
thing once, but now it had all gone to hell."  You entered a dark room;
where, railed off with iron railings, you beheld a long perspective of
caverns in the interior of the earth, and a molten lake in the distance.
In the foreground were the most horrible monsters that could be
invented--bears with men's heads, growling--snakes darting in and out,
hissing--here a man lying murdered, with a knife in his heart; there--a
suicide, hanging by the neck--skeletons lying about in all directions,
and some walking up and down in muslin shrouds.  The machinery was very
perfect.  At one side was the figure of a man sitting down, with a
horrible face; boar's tusks protruding from his mouth, his eyes rolling,
and horns on his head; I thought it was mechanism as well as the rest;
and was not a little surprised when it addressed me in a hollow voice:
"We've been waiting some time for you, captain."  As I found he had a
tongue, I entered into conversation with him.  The representation wound
up with showers of fire, rattling of bones, thunder, screams, and a
regular cascade of the d---d, pouring into the molten lake.  When it was
first shewn, they had an electric battery communicating with the iron
railing; and whoever put his hand on it, or went too near, received a
smart electric shock.  But the alarm created by this addition was found
to be attended with serious consequences, and it had been discontinued.

The love of excitement must of course produce a love of gambling, which
may be considered as one of the American amusements: it is, however,
carried on very quietly in the cities.  In the South, and on the
Mississippi, it is as open as the noon day; and the gamblers may be said
to have there become a professional people.  I have already mentioned
them, and the attempts which have been made to get rid of them.  Indeed,
they are not only gamesters who practice on the unwary, but they combine
with gambling the professions of forgery, and uttering of base money.
If they lose, they only lose forged notes.  There is no part of the
world where forgery is carried on to such an extent as it is in the
United States; chiefly in the Western country.  The American banks are
particularly careful to guard against this evil, but the ingenuity of
these miscreants is surprising, and they will imitate so closely as
almost to escape detection at the banks themselves.  Bank-note engraving
is certainly carried to the highest state of perfection in the United
States, but almost in vain.  I have myself read a notice, posted up at
Boston, which may appear strange to us.  "Bank notes made here to any
pattern."  But the Eastern banks are seldom forged upon.  Counterfeit
money is also very plentiful.  When I was in the West, I had occasion to
pay a few dollars to a friend: when I saw him a day or two afterwards,
he said to me, "Do you know that three dollars you gave me were
counterfeits?"  I apologised, and offered to replace them, "Oh! no,"
replied he; "it's of no consequence.  I gave them in payment to my
people, who told me that they _were_ counterfeit; but they said it was
of no consequence, as they could easily pass them."  In some of the
States lotteries have been abolished, in others they are still
permitted.  They are upon the French principle, and are very popular.

There is one very remarkable point in the American character, which is,
that they constantly change their professions.  I know not whether it
proceeds simply from their love of change, or from their embracing
professions at so early a period, that they have not discovered the line
in which from natural talents they are best calculated to succeed.  I
have heard it said, that it is seldom that an American succeeds in the
profession which he had first taken up at the commencement of his
career.  An American will set up as a lawyer; quit, and go to sea for a
year or two; come back, set up in another profession; get tired again,
go as clerk or steward in a steam-boat, merely because he wishes to
travel; then apply himself to something else, and begin to amass money.
It is of very little consequence what he does, the American is really a
jack of all trades, and master of any to which he feels at last inclined
to apply himself.

In Mrs Butler's clever journal there is one remark which really
surprised me.  She says, "The absolute absence of imagination is of
course the absolute absence of humour.  An American can no more
understand a fanciful jest than a poetical idea; and in society and
conversation the _strictest matter of fact_ prevails," etcetera.

If there was nothing but "_matter of fact_" in society and conversation
in America or elsewhere, I imagine that there would not be many words
used: but I refer to the passage, because she says that the Americans
are not imaginative; whereas, I think that there is not a more
imaginative people existing.  It is true that they prefer broad humour,
and delight in the hyperbole, but this is to be expected in a young
nation; especially as their education is, generally speaking, not of a
kind to make them sensible to very refined wit, which, I acknowledge, is
thrown away upon the majority.  What is termed the under current of
humour, as delicate raillery, for instance, is certainly not understood.
When they read Sam Slick, they did not perceive that the author was
laughing at them; and the letters of Major Jack Downing are much more
appreciated in this country than they are in America.  But as for saying
that they are not imaginative, is a great error, and I have no doubt
that Mrs B has discovered it by this time.

Miss Martineau says, and very truly, "The Americans appear to me an
eminently imaginative people."  Indeed, it is only necessary to read the
newspapers to be convinced it is the case.  The hyperbole is their
principal forte, but what is lying but imagination? and why do you find
that a child of promising talent is so prone to lying? because it is the
first effort of a strong imagination.  Wit requires refinement, which
the Americans have not; but they have excessive humour, although it is
generally speaking coarse.

An American, talking of an ugly woman with a very large mouth, said to
me, "Why, sir, when she yawns, you can see right down to her garters;"
and another, speaking of his being very sea-sick, declared, "That he
threw every thing up, down to his knee-pans."

If there required any proof of the dishonest feeling so prevalent in the
United States arising from the desire of gain, it would be in the fact,
that almost every good story which you hear of an American is an
instance of great ingenuity, and very little principle.  So many have
been told already, that I hesitate to illustrate my observation, from
fear of being accused of uttering stale jokes.  Nevertheless I will
venture upon one or two.

"An American (Down East, of course), when his father died, found his
patrimony to consist of several hundred dozen of boxes of ointment for
the cure of a certain complaint, said (by us) to be more common in the
North than in England.  He made up his pack, and took a round of nearly
a hundred miles, going from town to town and from village to village,
offering his remedy for sale.  But unfortunately for him no one was
afflicted with the complaint, and they would not purchase on the chance
of any future occasion for it.  He returned back to his inn, and having
reflected a little, he went out, inquired where he could find the
disease, and having succeeded, inoculated himself with it.  When he was
convinced that he had it with sufficient virulence, he again set forth
making the same round; and taking advantage of the American custom which
is so prevalent, he shook hands with everybody whom he had spoken to on
his former visit, declaring he was `'tarnal glad to see them again.'
Thus he went on till his circuit was completed, when he repaired to the
first town again, and found that his ointment, as he expected, was now
in great request; and he continued his route as before, selling every
box that he possessed."

There is a story of a Yankee clock-maker's ingenuity, that I have not
seen in print.  He also "made a circuit, having a hundred clocks when he
started; they were all very bad, which he well knew; but by `soft sawder
and human natur,' as Sam Slick says, he contrived to sell ninety-nine of
them, and reserve the last for his intended `_ruse_.'  He went to the
house where he had sold the first clock, and said, `Well, now, how does
your clock go? very well, I guess.'  The answer was as he anticipated,
`No, very bad.'  `Indeed!  Well, now, I've found it out at last.  You
see, I had one clock which was I know a bad one, and I said to my boy,
"you'll put that clock aside, for it won't do to sell such an article."
Well, the boy didn't mind, and left the clock with the others; and I
found out afterwards that it had been sold somewhere.  Mighty mad I was,
I can tell you, for I'm not a little particular about my credit; so I
have asked here and there, everywhere almost, how my clocks went, and
they all said that "they actually regulated the sun."  But I was
determined to find out who had the bad clock, and I am most particular
glad that I have done it at last.  Now, you see I have but one clock
left, a very superior article, worth a matter of ten dollars more than
the others, and I must give it you in change, and I'll only charge you
five dollars difference, as you have been annoyed with the bad article.'
The man who had the bad clock thought it better to pay five dollars
more to have a good one; so the exchange was made, and then the Yankee,
proceeding with the clock, returned to the next house.  `Well, now, how
does your clock go? very well, I guess.'  The same answer--the same
story repeated--and another five dollars received in exchange.  And thus
did he go round, exchanging clock for clock, until he had received an
extra five dollars for every one which he had sold."

Logic.--"A Yankee went into the bar of an inn in a country town: `Pray
what's the price of a pint of shrub?'  `Half a dollar,' was the reply of
the man at the bar.  `Well, then, give it me.'  The shrub was poured
out, when the bell rang for dinner.  `Is that your dinner-bell?'  `Yes.'
`What may you charge for dinner?'  `Half a dollar.'  `Well, then, I
think I had better not take the shrub, but have some dinner instead.'
This was consented to.  The Yankee went in, sat down to his dinner, and
when it was over, was going out of the door without paying.  `Massa,'
said the negro waiter, `you not paid for your dinner.'  `I know that; I
took the dinner instead of the shrub.'  `But, massa, you not pay for the
shrub.'  `Well, I did not have the shrub, did I, you nigger?' said the
Yankee, walking away.  The negro scratched his head; he knew that
something was wrong, as he had got no money; but he could not make it
out till the Yankee was out of sight."

I do not think that _democracy_ is marked upon the features of the lower
classes in the United States; there is no arrogant bearing in them, as
might be supposed from the despotism of the majority; on the contrary, I
should say that their lower classes are much more civil than our own.  I
had a _slap_ of equality on my first landing at New York.  I had hired a
truck-man to take up my luggage from the wharf; I went a-head, and
missed him when I came to the corner of the street where I had engaged
apartments, and was looking round for him in one direction, when I was
saluted with a slap on the shoulder, which was certainly given with
good-will.  I turned, and beheld my carman, who had taken the liberty to
draw my attention in this forcible manner.  He was a man of few words;
he pointed to his truck where it stood with the baggage, and then went
on.

This civil bearing is peculiar, as when they are excited by politics, or
other causes, they are most insolent and overbearing.  In his usual
demeanour, the citizen born is quiet and obliging.  The insolence you
meet with is chiefly from the emigrant classes.  I have before observed,
that the Americans are a good-tempered people; and to this good temper I
ascribe their civil bearing.  But why are they good-tempered?  It
appears to me to be one of the few virtues springing from democracy.
When the grades of society are distinct, as they are in the older
institutions, when difference of rank is acknowledged and submitted to
without murmur, it is evident that if people are obliged to control
their tempers in presence of their superiors or equals, they can also
yield to them with their inferiors; and it is this yielding to our
tempers which enables them to master us.  But under institutions where
all are equal, where no one admits the superiority of another, even if
he really be so, where the man with the spade in his hand will beard the
millionaire, and where you are compelled to submit to the caprice and
insolence of a domestic, or lose his services, it is evident that every
man must from boyhood have learnt to control his temper, as no
ebullition will be submitted to, or unfollowed by its consequences.  I
consider that it is this habitual control, forced upon the Americans by
the nature of their institutions, which occasions them to be so
good-tempered, when not in a state of excitement.  The Americans are in
one point, as a mob, very much like the English; make them laugh, and
they forget all their animosity immediately.

One of the most singular points about the lower classes in America is,
that they will call themselves ladies and gentlemen, and yet refuse
their titles to their superiors.  Miss Martineau mentions one
circumstance, of which I very often met with similar instances.  "I once
was with a gentleman who was building a large house; he went to see how
the men were getting on; but they had all disappeared but one.  `Where
are the people?' inquired he.  `The _gentlemen_ be all gone to
_liquor_,' was the reply."

I bought one of the small newspapers just as I was setting off in a
steam-boat from New York to Albany.  The boy had no change, and went to
fetch it.  He did not come back himself, but another party made his
appearance.  "Are you the _man_ who bought the newspaper?"  "Yes,"
replied I.  "The _young gentleman_ who sold it to you has sent me to pay
you four cents."

A gentleman was travelling with his wife, they had stopped at an inn,
and during the gentleman's momentary absence the lady was taken ill.
The lady wishing for her husband, a man very good-naturedly went to find
him, and when he had succeeded he addressed him, "I say, Mister, your
_woman_ wants you; but I telled the _young lady of the house_ to fetch
her a glass of water."

There was no insolence intended in this; it is a peculiarity to be
accounted for by their love of title and distinction.

It is singular to observe human nature peeping out in the Americans, and
how tacitly they acknowledge by their conduct how uncomfortable a
feeling there is in perfect equality.  The respect they pay to a title
is much greater than that which is paid to it in England; and naturally
so; we set a higher value upon that which we cannot obtain.  I have been
often amused at the variance on this point between their words and their
feelings, which is shewn in their eagerness for rank of some sort among
themselves.  Every man who has served in the militia carries his title
until the day of his death.  There is no end to generals, and colonels,
and judges; they keep taverns and grog shops, especially in the Western
State; indeed, there are very few who have not brevet rank of some kind;
and I being only a captain, was looked upon as a very small personage,
as far as rank went.  An Englishman, who was living in the State of New
York, had sent to have the chimney of his house raised.  The morning
afterwards he saw a labourer mixing mortar before the door.  "Well,"
said the Englishman, "when is the chimney to be finished?"  "I'm sure I
don't know, you had better ask the colonel."  "The colonel?  What
colonel?"  "Why, I reckon that's the colonel upon the top of the house,
working away at the chimney."

After all, this fondness for rank, even in a democracy, is very natural,
and the Americans have a precedent for it.  His Satanic Majesty was the
first democrat in heaven, but as soon as he was dismissed to his abode
below, if Milton be correct, he assumed his title.



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SIX.

ARISTOCRACY.

If the Americans should imagine that I have any pleasure in writing the
contents of this chapter they will be mistaken; I have considered well
the duty of and pondered over it.  I would not libel an individual, much
less a whole nation; but I must speak the truth, and upon due
examination, and calling to my mind all that I have collected from
observation and otherwise, I consider that at this present time the
standard of morality is lower in America than in any other portion of
the civilised globe.  I say at this present time, for it was not so even
twenty years ago, and possibly may not be so twenty years hence.  There
is a change constantly going on in every thing below, and I believe, for
many reasons, that a change for the better will soon take place in
America.  There are even now many thousands of virtuous, honourable, and
enlightened people in the United States, but at present virtue is
passive, while vice is active.

The Americans possess courage, presence of mind, perseverance, and
energy, but these may be considered rather as endowments than as
virtues.  They are propelling powers which will advance them as a
people, and, were they regulated and tempered by religious and moral
feeling, would make them great and good, but without these adjuncts they
can only become great and vicious.

I have observed in my preface that the virtues and vices of a nation are
to be traced to the form of government, the climate, and circumstances,
and it will be easy to shew that to the above may be ascribed much of
the merit as well as the demerits of the people of the United States.

In the first place, I consider the example set by the government as most
injurious: as I shall hereafter prove, it is insatiable in its ambition,
regardless of its faith, and corrupt to the highest degree.  This
example I consider as the first cause of the demoralisation of the
Americans.  The errors incident to the voluntary system of religion are
the second: the power of the clergy is destroyed, and the tyranny of the
laity has produced the effect of the outward form having been
substituted for the real feeling, and hypocrisy has been but too often
substituted for religion.

To the evil of bad example from the government is superadded the natural
tendency of a democratic form of government, to excite ambition without
having the power to gratify it morally or virtuously; and the debasing
influence of the pursuit of gain is everywhere apparent.  It shews
itself in the fact that money is in America everything, and everything
else nothing; it is the only sure possession, for character can at any
time be taken from you, and therefore becomes less valuable than in
other countries, except so far as mercantile transactions are concerned.
Mr Cooper says--not once, but many times--that in America all the
local affections, indeed everything, is sacrificed to the spirit of
gain.  Dr Charming constantly laments it, and he very truly asserts, "A
people that deems the possession of riches its highest source of
distinction, admits one of the most degrading of all influences to
preside over its opinions.  At no time should money be ever ranked as
more than a means, and he who lives as if the acquisition of property
were the sole end of his existence, betrays the dominion of the most
sordid, base, and grovelling motive that life offers;" and ascribing it
to the institutions, he says, "In one respect our institutions have
_disappointed us all_: they have not wrought out for us that elevation
of character which is the most precious, and, in truth, the only
substantial blessing of liberty."

I have before observed, that whatever society permits, men will do and
not consider to be wrong, and if the government considers a breach of
trust towards it as not of any importance, and defaulters are permitted
to escape, it will of course become no crime in the eyes of the
majority.  Mr Cooper observes, "An evident _dishonesty_ of sentiment
pervades the _public_ itself, which is beginning to regard acts of
private delinquency with a dangerous indifference; acts too that are
inseparably connected with the character, security, and right
administration of the state."

Such is unfortunately the case at present; it may be said to have
commenced with the Jackson dynasty, and it is but a few years since this
dreadful demoralisation has become so apparent and so shamelessly
avowed.  In another work the American author above quoted observes,--"We
see the effects of this baneful influence in the openness and audacity
with which men avow improper motives and improper acts, trusting to find
support in a popular feeling, for while vicious influences are perhaps
more admitted in other countries than in America, in none are they so
openly avowed."  Surely there is sufficient of American authority to
satisfy any reader that I am not guilty of exaggeration in my remarks.
Nor am I the only traveller who has observed upon what is indeed most
evident and palpable.  Captain Hamilton says, "I have heard conduct
praised in conversation at a public table, which, in England, would be
attended, if not with a voyage to Botany Bay, at least with total loss
of character.  It is impossible to pass an hour in the bar of the hotel,
without struck with the tone of callous selfishness which pervades the
conversation, and the absence of all pretension to pure and lofty
principle."

It may indeed be fairly said, that nothing is disgraceful with the
majority in America, which the law cannot lay hold of.  [See Note 1.]
You are either in or out of the Penitentiary: if once in, you are lost
for ever, but keep out and you are as good as your neighbour.  Now one
thing is certain, that where honesty is absolutely necessary, honesty is
to be found, as for example among the New York merchants, who are, as a
body, highly honourable men.  When, therefore, the Americans will have
moral courage sufficient to drive away vice, and not allow virtue to be
in bondage, as she at present is, the morals of society will be
instantly restored--and how and when will this be effected?  I have said
that the people of time United States, at the time of the Declaration of
Independence, were perhaps the most moral people existing, and I now
assert that they are the least so; to what cause can this change be
ascribed?  Certainly not wholly to the spirit of gain, for it exists
every where, although perhaps nowhere so strongly developed as it is
under a form of government which admits of no other claim to
superiority.  I consider that it arises from the total extinction, or if
not extinction absolute bondage, of the aristocracy of the country, both
politically as well as socially.  There was an aristocracy at the time
of the Independence--not an aristocracy of title, but a much superior
one; an aristocracy of great, powerful, and leading men, who were looked
up to and imitated; there was, politically speaking, an aristocracy in
the senate which was elected by those who were then independent of the
popular will; but although a portion of it remains, it may be said to
have been almost altogether smothered, and in society it no longer
exists.  It is the want of this aristocracy that has so lowered the
standard of morals in America, and it is the revival of it that must
restore to the people of the United States the morality they have lost.
The loss of the aristocracy has sunk the Republic into a democracy--the
renewal of it will again restore them to their former condition.  Let
not the Americans start at this idea.  An aristocracy is not only not
incompatible, but absolutely necessary for the duration of a democratic
form of government.  It is the third estate, so necessary to preserve
the balance of power between the executive and the people, and which has
unfortunately disappeared.  An aristocracy is as necessary for the
morals as for the government of a nation.  Society must have a head to
lead it, and without that head there will be no fixed standard of
morality, and things must remain in the chaotic state in which they are
at present.

Some author has described the English nation as resembling their own
beer-froth at the top, dregs at the bottom, and in the middle excellent.
There is point in this observation, and it has been received without
criticism, and quoted without contradiction: but it is in itself false;
it may be said that the facts are directly the reverse, there being more
morality among the lower class than in the middling, and still more in
the higher than in the lower.  We have been designated as a nation of
shopkeepers, a term certainly more applicable to the Americans, where
all are engaged in commerce and the pursuit of gain, and who have no
distinctions or hereditary titles.  Trade demoralises; there are so many
petty arts and frauds necessary to be resorted to by every class in
trade, to enable them to compete with each other; so many lies told, as
a matter of business, to tempt a purchaser, that almost insensibly and
by degrees the shopkeeper becomes dishonest.  These demoralising
practices must be resorted to, even by those who would fain avoid them,
or they have no chance of competing with their rivals in business.  It
is not the honest tradesman who makes a rapid fortune; indeed, it is
doubtful whether he could carry on his business; and yet, from assuetude
and not being taxed with dishonesty, the shopkeeper scarcely ever feels
that he is dishonest.  Now, this is the worst state of demoralisation,
where you are blind to your errors and conscience is never awakened, and
in this state may be considered, with few exceptions, every class of
traders, whether in England, America, or elsewhere.

Among the lower classes, the morals of the manufacturing districts, and
of the frequenters of cities, will naturally be at a low ebb, for men
when closely packed demoralise each other; but if we examine the
agricultural classes, which are by far the most numerous, we shall find
that there is much virtue and goodness in the humble cottage; we shall
there find piety and resignation, honesty, industry, and content, more
universal than would be imagined, and the Bible pored over, instead of
the day-book or ledger.

But it is by the higher classes of the English nation, by the nobility
and gentry of England, that the high tone of virtue and morality is
upheld.  Foreigners, especially Americans, are too continually pointing
out, and with evident satisfaction, the scandal arising from the conduct
of some few individuals in these classes as a proof of the conduct of
the whole; but they mistake the exceptions for the rule.  If they were
to pay attention, they would perceive that these accusations are only
confined to some few out of a class comprehending many many thousands in
our wealthy isle, and that the very circumstance of their rank being no
shield against the attacks made upon them, is a proof that they are
exceptions, whose conduct is universally held up to public ridicule or
indignation.  A _crim. con_. in English high life is exulted over by the
Americans; they point to it, and exclaim, "See what your aristocracy
are!" forgetting that the crime is committed by one out of thousands,
and that it meets with the disgrace which it deserves, and that this
crime is, to a certain degree, encouraged by our laws relative to
divorce.  Do the Americans imagine that there is no _crim. con_.
perpetrated in the United States? many instances of suspicion, and some
of actual discovery, came to my knowledge even during my short residence
there, but they were invariably, and perhaps judiciously, hushed up, for
the sake of the families and the national credit.  I do not wish, nor
would it be possible, to draw any parallel between the two nations on
this point; I shall only observe that in England we have not considered
the vice to have become so prevalent as to think it necessary to form
societies for the prevention of it, as they have done in the United
States.

It has been acknowledged by other nations, and I believe it to be true,
that the nobility and gentry of England are the most moral, most
religious, and most honourable classes that can be found not only in our
country, but in any other country in the world, and such they certainly
ought from _circumstances_ to be.

Possessed of competence, they have no incentives to behave dishonestly.
They are well-educated, the finest race of men and women that can be
produced, and the men are brought up to athletic and healthy amusements.
They have to support the honour of an ancient family, and to hand down
the name untarnished to their posterity.  They have every inducement to
noble deeds, and are, generally speaking, above the necessities which
induce men to go wrong.  If the Americans would assert that luxury
produces vice, I can only say that luxury infers idleness and
inactivity, and on this point the women of the aristocracy in this
country have the advantage over the American women, who cannot, from the
peculiarity of the climate, take time exercise so universally resorted
to by our higher classes.  I admit that some go wrong, but is error
confined to the nobility alone; are there no spendthrifts, no dissolute
young men, or ill brought up young women, among other classes?  Are
there none in America?  Moreover, there are some descriptions of vice
which are meaner than others and more debasing to the mind, and it is
among the middling and lower classes that these vices are principally to
be found.

The higher classes invariably take the lead, and give the tone to
society.  If the court be moral, so are the morals of the nation
improved by example, as in the time of George the Third.  If the court
be dissolute, as in the time of Charles the Second, the nation will
plunge into vice.  Now, in America there is no one to take the lead;
morals, like religion, are the concern of nobody, and therefore it is
that the standard of morality is so low.  I have heard it argued that
allowing one party to have a very low standard of morality and to act up
to that standard, and another to have a high standard of morality and
not to act up to it, that the former is the really moral man, as he does
act up to his principles such as they are.  This may hold good when we
examine into the virtues and vices of nations: that the American Indian
who acts up to his own code and belief, both in morality and religion,
may be more worthy than a Christian who neglects his duty, may be true;
but the question now is upon the respective morality of two enlightened
nations, both Christian and having the Bible as their guide--between
those who have neither of them any pretence to lower the standard of
morality, as they both know better.  M.  Tocqueville observes, speaking
of the difference between aristocratical and democratical
governments--"In aristocratic governments the individuals who are placed
at the head of affairs are rich men, who are solely desirous of power.
In democracies statesmen are poor, and they have their fortunes to make.
The consequence is, that in aristocratic States the rulers are rarely
accessible to corruption, and have very little craving for money; whilst
the reverse is the case in democratic nations."

This is true, and may be fairly applied to the American democracy: as
long as you will not allow the good and enlightened to rule, you will be
governed by those who will flatter and cheat you, and demoralise
society.  When you allow _your_ aristocracy to take the reins, you will
be better governed, and your morals will improve by example.  What is
the situation of America at present? the aristocracy of the country are
either in retirement or have migrated, and if the power of the majority
should continue as it now does its despotic rule, you will have still
farther emigration.  At present there are many hundreds of Americans who
have retired to the Old Continent, that they may receive that return for
their wealth which they cannot in their own country; and if not
flattered, they are at least not insulted and degraded.

Mr Sanderson, in his "Sketches from Paris," says--"The American society
at Paris, taken altogether, is of a good composition.  It consists of
several hundred persons, of families of fortune, and young men of
liberal instruction.  Here are lords of cotton from Carolina, and of
sugar-cane from the Mississippi, _millionaires_ from all the Canadas,
and pursers from all the navies; and their social qualities, from a
sense of mutual dependence or partnership in absence, or some such
causes, are more active abroad than at home.

"They form a little republic apart, and when a stranger arrives he finds
himself at home; he finds himself also under the censorial inspection of
a public opinion, a salutary restraint not always the luck of those who
travel into foreign countries.  One thing only is to be blamed: it
becomes every day more the fashion for the _elite_ of our cities to
settle themselves here _permanently_.  We cannot but deplore this
exportation of the precious metals, since our country is drained of what
the supply is not too abundant.  They who have resided here a few years,
having fortune and leisure, do not choose, as I perceive, to reside
anywhere else."

This is the fact; and as the wealth of America increases every day, so
will those who possess it swarm off as fast as they can to other
countries, if there is not a change in the present society, and a return
to something like order and rank.  Who would remain in a country where
there is no freedom of thought or action, and where you cannot even
spend your money as you please?  Mr Butler the other day built a house
at Philadelphia with a _porte-cochere_, and the consequence was that
they called him an aristocrat, and would not vote for him.  In short,
will enlightened and refined people live to be dictated to by a savage
and ignorant majority, who will neither allow your character nor your
domestic privacy to be safe!

The Americans, in their fear of their institutions giving way, and their
careful guard against any encroachments upon the liberty of the people,
have fallen into the error of sacrificing the most virtuous portion of
the community, and driving a large portion of them out of the country.
This will eventually be found to be a serious evil; absenteeism will
daily increase, and will be as sorely felt as it is in Ireland at the
present hour.  The Americans used to tell me with exultation, that they
never could have an Aristocracy in their country, from the law of entail
having been abolished.  They often asserted, and with some truth, that
in that country property never accumulated beyond two generations, and
that the grandson of a _millionaire_ was _invariably_ a pauper.  This
they ascribe to the working of their institutions, and argue that it
will always be impossible for any family to be raised above the mass by
a descent of property.  Now the very circumstance of this having been
invariably the case, induces me to look for the real cause of it, as
there is none to be found in their institutions why all the grandsons of
_millionaires_ should be paupers.  It is not owing to their
institutions, but to moral causes, which, although they have existed
until now, will not exist for ever.  In the principal and wealthiest
cities in the Union, it is difficult to spend more than twelve or
fifteen thousand dollars per annum, as with such an expenditure you are
on a par with the highest, and you can be no more.  What is the
consequence? a young American succeeds to fifty or sixty thousand
dollars a year, the surplus is useless to him; there is no one to vie
with--no one who can reciprocate--he must stand alone.  He naturally
feels careless about what he finds to be of no use to him.  Again, all
his friends and acquaintances are actively employed during the whole of
the day in their several occupations; he is a man of leisure, and must
either remain alone or associate with other men of leisure; and who are
the majority of men of leisure in the towns of the United States?
Blacklegs of genteel exterior and fashionable appearance, with whom he
associates, into whose snares he falls, and to whom he eventually loses
property about which he is indifferent.  To be an idle man when every
body else is busy, is not only a great unhappiness, but a situation of
great peril.  Had the sons of _millionaires_, who remained in the States
and left their children paupers, come over to the old Continent, as many
have done, they would have stood a better chance of retaining their
property.

All I can say is, that if they cannot have an aristocracy, the worse for
them; I am not of the opinion, that they will not have one, although
they are supported by the strong authority of M.  Tocqueville, who
says--"I do not think a single people can be quoted, since human society
began to exist, which has, by its own free-will and by its own
exertions, created an aristocracy within its own bosom.  All the
aristocracies of the Middle Ages were founded by military conquest: the
conqueror was the noble, the vanquished became the serf.  Inequality was
then imposed by force; and after it had been introduced into the manners
of the country, it maintained its own authority, and was sanctioned by
the legislation.  Communities have existed which were aristocratic from
their earliest origin, owing to circumstances anterior to that event,
and which became more democratic in each succeeding age.  Such was the
destiny of the Romans, and of the barbarians after them.  But a people,
having taken its rise in civilisation and democracy, which should
gradually establish an inequality of conditions, until it arrived at
inviolable privileges and exclusive castes, would be a novelty in the
world and nothing intimates that America is likely to furnish so
singular an example."

I grant that no single people has by its own free-will created an
aristocracy, but circumstances will make one in spite of the people; and
if there is no aristocracy who have power to check, a despotism may be
the evil arising from the want of it.  At present America is thinly
peopled, but let them look forward to the time when the population shall
become denser; what will then be the effect? why a division between the
rich and the poor will naturally take place; and what is that but the
foundation if not the formation of an aristocracy.  An American cannot
entail his estate, but he can leave the whole of it to his eldest son if
he pleases; and in a few years, the lands which have been purchased for
a trifle, will become the foundation of noble fortunes [see Note 2] but
even now their law of non-entail does not work as they would wish.

M.  Tocqueville says--"The laws of the United States are extremely
favourable to the division of property; but a cause which is more
powerful than the laws prevents property from being divided to excess.
[See Note 3.] This is very perceptible in the States which are beginning
to be thickly peopled; Massachusetts is the most populous part of the
Union, but it contains only eighty inhabitants to the square mile, which
is much less than in France, where a hundred and sixty-two are reckoned
to the same extent of country.  But in Massachusetts estates are very
rarely divided; the eldest son takes the land, and the others go to seek
their fortune in the desert.  The law has abolished the rights of
primogeniture, but circumstances have concurred to re-establish it under
a form of which none can complain, and by which no just rights are
impaired."

And Chancellor Kent, in his "Treatise upon American Law," observes--"It
cannot be doubted that the division of landed estates must produce great
evils when it is carried to such excess as that each parcel of land is
insufficient to support a family but these disadvantages have never been
felt in the United States, and _many generations must elapse_ before
they can be felt.  The extent of our inhabited territory, the abundance
of adjacent land, and the continual stream of emigration flowing from
the shores of the Atlantic towards the interior of the country, suffice
as yet, and will long suffice, to _prevent_ the parcelling out of
estates."

There is, therefore, no want of preparation for an aristocracy in
America, and, although at present the rich are so much in the minority
that they cannot coalesce, such will not be the case, perhaps, in twenty
or thirty years; they have but to rally and make a stand when they
become more numerous and powerful, and they have every chance of
success.  The fact is that an aristocracy is absolutely necessary for
America, both politically and morally, if the Americans wish their
institutions to hold together, for if some stop is not put to the
rapidly advancing power of the people, anarchy must be the result.  I do
not mean an aristocracy of title; I mean such an aristocracy of talent
and power which wealth will give--an aristocracy which shall lead
society and purify it.  How is this to be obtained in a democracy?--
simply by purchase.  In a country where the suffrage is confined to
certain classes, as in England, such purchase is not to be obtained, as
the people who have the right of suffrage are not poor enough to be
bought; but in a country like America, where the suffrage is universal,
the people will eventually sell their birth-right; and if by such means
an aristocratical government is elected, it will be able to amend the
constitution, and pass what laws it pleases.  This may appear visionary,
but it has been proved already that it can be done, and if it can be
done now, how much more easily will it be accomplished when the
population has quadrupled, and the division commences between the rich
and the poor.  I say it has been done already, for it was done at the
last New York election.  The democratic party made sure of success: but
a large sum of money was brought into play, and the whole of the
_committees_ of the democratic party were bought over, and the Whigs
carried the day.

The greatest security for the duration of the present institutions of
the United States is the establishment of an aristocracy.  It is the
third power which was intended to act, but which has been destroyed and
is now wanting.  Let the senate be aristocratical--let the congress be
partially so, and then what would be the American government of
president, senate, and congress, but _mutato nomine_, king, lords, and
commons?

I cannot perhaps find a better opportunity than here of pointing out
what ought to be made known to the English, as it has done more harm to
the American aristocracy than may be imagined.  I refer to the
carelessness and facility with which letters of introduction to this
country are given, and particularly by the American authorities.  I have
drawn the character of Bennett, the editor of the Morning Herald of New
York, and there is not a respectable American but will acknowledge that
my sketch of him is correct; will it not surprise the English readers
when I inform them that this man obtained admittance to Westminster Hall
at the Coronation, and was seated among the proudest and purest of our
nobility!!  Such was the fact.  But it will be as well to revert back a
little to what has passed.

During the time that England was at war with nearly the whole of Europe,
the Americans were to a great degree isolated and unknown, except as
carriers of merchandise under the neutral flag; but they were rapidly
advancing in importance and wealth.  At the conclusion of the last
American war, during which, by their resolute and occasionally
successful struggles, they had drawn the eyes of Europe towards them,
and had advanced many degrees in the general estimation of their
importance as a nation, the Americans occasionally made their appearance
as travellers, both on the Continent and in England; but they found that
they were not so well received as their own ideas of their importance
induced them to imagine they were entitled to be; especially on the
Continent.

The first great personage who shewed liberality in this respect, was
George the Fourth.  Hearing that some American ladies of good family had
complained that, having no titles, no standing in society, they did not
meet with that civility to which, from descent and education, they were
entitled, he received them at Court most graciously, and those very
ladies are now classed among the peeresses of Great Britain.  Still the
difficulty remained, as it was almost impossible for the aristocracy,
abroad or at home, to ascertain the justness of the claims which were
made by those of a nation who professed the equality of all classes, and
of whom many of the pretenders to be well received did not by their
appearance warrant the supposition that their claims were valid.  It
being impossible to give any other rank but that of office, the American
Government hit upon a plan which was attended with very evil
consequences.  They granted supernumerary attache-ships to those
Americans who wished to travel; and as, on the Old Continent, the very
circumstance of being an _attache_ to a foreign minister warranted the
respectability of the party, those who obtained this distinction were
well received, and, unfortunately, sometimes did no credit to their
appointments.  The fact was that these favours were granted without
discrimination, and all who received them being put down as specimens of
American gentlemen, the character of the Americans lost ground by the
very efforts made to establish it.  The true American gentlemen who
travelled (and there is no lack of them) were supposed to be English,
while the spurious were put down as samples of the gentility of the
United States.

That the principles of equality were one great cause of the
indiscriminate distribution of those marks of distinction by the highest
quarters in the Union, and of the facility of obtaining letters of
recommendation from them there is no doubt; but the principal and still
existing causes, are the extended and domineering power of the press,
and the high state of excitement of the political parties.  Those in
power are positively afraid to refuse literary men, or those who have
assisted them in their political career; they have not the moral courage
to do so, however undeserving the parties may really be.  But, as is
generally the case, they really do not know the parties; it is
sufficient that the favour, considered trifling, is demanded, and it is
instantly granted.  Now, as at the accession of General Jackson, and the
subsequent raising of Mr Van Buren to the presidency, the democratical,
or Loco Foco party came into power, it is to their friends and
supporters, the least respectable portion of the American community, to
whom these favours have been granted; which of course has not assisted
the claims of the Americans to respectability.  An instance of this sort
occurred to me after I had been a few months in America.  One of the
most gentleman-like and well-informed men in New York, requested that I
would give a letter of introduction to a friend of his who was going to
England.  Taking it for granted that such a request would not be made
without the party deserving the recommendation, I immediately assented.
The party who obtained my letters (an editor of a paper, as I afterwards
discovered), on his arrival in England, considering that he was not
treated with that attention to which, in his own vain-gloriousness, he
thought himself entitled, actually sent a hostile letter to one of the
gentlemen to whom he had been introduced, and otherwise proved himself
by his conduct to be a most improper person.  I was informed of this by
letters from England; and immediately went to the gentleman who had
requested the introduction from me, and stated the conduct of the party.
"I really am very sorry," said he, "but _I_ knew nothing of him."
"Knew nothing of him?" replied I.  "No, indeed; but my friend Mr C, of
Philadelphia, introduced him by letter, and requested me to ask for
introductions for him."  "Then you will oblige me by writing to your
friend Mr C, and ask him why he did so, as I find myself very much
compromised by this affair."  He wrote to Mr C, of Philadelphia, who
replied that he was very sorry, but that really _he_ knew nothing of
him.  He had been introduced to him by letter, by Mr O, and that he was
a _staunch supporter_ of their party.  Now, how many grades this person
had climbed up by letters of introduction it is impossible to say, but
this is sufficient to prove that letters of introduction which are, you
may say, _demanded_, and not refused from the fear of offending a
political agent or penny-a-liner, must ever be received with due
caution; and it is equally certain, that those from the President
himself are the most easy to be obtained.

I have entered freely into this question, as it is important that it
should be known, not only to the English, but to the Americans
themselves.  A letter of introduction from a gentleman of Carolina,
Virginia, or Boston, I should be infinitely more induced to take notice
of than from the President of the United States, unless the President
stated that he was personally acquainted with the party who delivered
it; and I make this statement in _justice_ to the American gentlemen,
and not with the slightest wish to check that intercourse which will
every day increase, and, I trust, to the advantage of both nations.  See
note 4.

Indeed, now that such rapid communication has taken place between the
two countries, since the Atlantic has been traversed by steam, it
becomes more imperative that these facts should be known.  Every
fortnight a hundred and sixty passengers will arrive by the Great
Western, or some other steamer.  Most of them are American citizens,
armed with their letters of recommendation, and the situation of the
American minister has become one of peculiar difficulty.

By one steam-packet alone he has had seventy-five people, or families,
with letters of introduction to him, mostly obtained by the means which
I have described; and there is not one of these parties who does not
expect as much attention as if the American minister had nothing else to
do but to be at his command.  They leave their cards with him; if the
cards are not returned in two or three days, they send a letter to know
why he has not called upon them? and if the visit is returned, send a
letter to know whether the minister called _in person_, or _not_?  With
a stipend from his own government, quite inadequate to the purpose, he
is expected, to the great detriment of his private fortune, to receive
and entertain all these people.  I have it from the best authority, that
some of these parties have called and inquired whether the minister was
at home; being answered in the negative, they have gone into a room,
taken a chair, and declared their determination not to leave the house
until they had seen him.  Most of them expect him to obtain admittance
for them into the Houses of Lords and Commons, and to present them at
Court.  In some instances, when the minister has stated the necessity of
a _Court dress_, they have remonstrated, thinking it an expense wholly
unnecessary.  "They were American _citizens_, and would be introduced as
such; they had nothing to do with Court dresses, and all that nonsense."
And thus, since the steam-vessels have increased the communication
between the two countries, has the American minister been in a state of
annoyance, to which it is impossible that he, or any other who may be
appointed in his place, can possibly submit.

Let the Americans understand, that those only go to Court in this
country who have claims, as the nobility, the oldest commoners, people
in office, the army and navy, and other liberal professions.  There are
thousands of families in England, by descent, fortune, and education,
very superior to those of America, who never think of going to Court,
being aware that such is not their sphere; and yet every American who
comes over here with four or five introductions in his pocket must,
forsooth, be presented.  If the minister refuses, why then there is an
attack upon him in the American prints, and his name and his supposed
misdemeanors are bandied about from one end of the Union to the other.
It is hardly credible to what a state of slavery they would reduce the
American representative.  One man says, "I understand I can have a Court
dress at a Jew's."  "Yes, you can, I believe."  "Well, now, suppose we
step down together; you may _cheapen_ it a bit for me, may be."  These
facts are known to the respectable and gentleman-like Americans, who,
after the samples which have come over, and have obtained admission into
society and gone to Court, will not shew themselves, but prefer to stay
at home.

All this is wrong, and a remedy must soon be found, as the evil
increases every day.  The Americans cannot take the English Court by
storm, or force us to acknowledge their equality in this country.  There
are but certain classes in this country who have any pretension to be
received at Court; and unless the Americans can prove that they are by
their situation, or descent, of a sufficient rank to qualify them to be
admitted, they must be content to be excluded, as the major portion of
our countrymen are.  Even an American being a member of Congress does
not qualify him, although being a member of the Senate certainly
_should_.  The members of the American Congress are not in the mass
equal by any means in respectability to the members of the English House
of Commons; and there have been many members of the English House of
Commons, since the passing of the Reform Bill, who could not, and
cannot, gain admittance into society.

If the harmony and good feeling between the two countries is to continue
uninterrupted, and our intercourse to be extended, as there is every
probability that it will be, it appears to me that there is more
importance to be attached to this question than at the first view of it
might be supposed.  The Americans are more ambitious of birth and
aristocracy than any other nation, which is very natural, if it were
only from the simple fact that we always most desire what is out of our
reach.  Since the Americans have come over in such numbers to this
country, our Herald's Office has actually been _besieged_ by them, in
their anxiety to take out the arms and achievements of their presumed
forefathers; this is also very natural and very proper, although it may
be at variance with their institutions.  The determination to have an
aristocracy in America gains head every day: a conflict must ensue, when
the increase of wealth in the country adds sufficiently to the strength
of the party.  But some line must be drawn in this country, as to the
admission of Americans to the English Court, or, if not drawn, it will
end in a total, and therefore unjust exclusion.  As but few of the
Americans can claim any right to aristocracy in their own country from
acknowledged descent, I should not be surprised if in a few years, now
that the two countries are becoming so intimately connected, a reception
at the English Court of this country be considered as an establishment
of their claim.  If so, it will be a curious anomaly in the history of a
republic, that, fifty years after it was established, the republicans
should apply to the mother country whose institutions they had abjured,
to obtain from her a patent of superiority, so as to raise themselves
above that hated equality which, by their own institutions, they
profess.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  English Capital Invested.--It is but _fair_ to give the English
who have invested their money in American securities, some idea of what
their chance of receiving their principal or receiving their interest
may be.  As _long_ as it depends upon the faith of those who have
contracted the debt, their money is safe, but as soon as the power is
taken out of their hands, and vested in the majority, they may consider
their money as gone.  I will explain this--at present the English have
vested their capital in canals, railroads, and other public
improvements.  The returns of these undertakings are at present
honourably employed in paying interest to the lenders of the capital,
and if the returns are not sufficient, more money is borrowed to meet
the demands of the creditor; but there is a certain point at which
credit fails, and at which no more money can be borrowed; if then no
more money can be borrowed, and the returns of their railroads, canals,
and other securities fail off, where is the deficiency to be made good?
In this country it would be made good by a tax being imposed upon the
population to meet the deficiency, and support the credit of the nation.
Here is the question:--will the majority in America consent to be
taxed?  I say, No--if they do, I shall be surprised, and be most happy
to recant, but it is my opinion that they will not, and if so the
English capital will be lost; and if the reader will call to mind what I
have pointed out as to the probable effect of the power of America
working to the westward, and the direct importation which in a few years
must take place, he will see that there is every prospect of a rapid
decrease in the value of all their securities, and that the only
ultimate chance of their recovering the money is by this country
compelling payment of it by the Federal Government.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  "At the time of the first settlement of the English in
Virginia, when land was to be had for little or nothing, some provident
persons having obtained large grants of it, and being desirous of
maintaining the splendour of their families, entailed their property
upon their descendants.  The transmission of these estates from
generation to generation, to men who bore the same name, had the effect
of raising up a distinct class of families, who, possessing by law the
privilege of perpetuating their wealth, formed by these means a sort of
patrician order, distinguished by the grandeur and luxury of their
establishments.  From this order it was that the king usually chose his
councillors of state.

"In the United States, the principal clauses of the English law
respecting descent have been universally rejected.  The first rule that
we follow, says Mr Kent, touching inheritance, is the following:--If a
man dies intestate, his property goes to his heirs in a direct line.  If
he has but one heir or heiress, he or she succeeds to the whole.  If
there are several heirs of the same degree, they divide the inheritance
equally amongst them, without distinction of sex.

"This rule was prescribed for the first time in the State of New York by
a statute of the 23rd of February, 1786.  (_See Revised Statutes_,
volume III, _Appendix_, page 48.)  It has since then been adopted in the
revised statutes of the same State.  At the present day this law holds
good throughout the whole of the United States, with the exception of
the State of Vermont, where the male heir inherits a double portion:
Kent's Commentaries, volume IV, page 370.  Mr Kent, in the same work,
volume IV, pages 1-22, gives an historical account of American
legislation on the subject of entail; by this we learn that previous to
the revolution the colonies followed the English law of entail.  Estates
tail were abolished in Virginia in 1776, on a motion of Mr Jefferson.
They were suppressed in New York in 1786; and have since been abolished
in North Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia, and Missouri.  In
Vermont, Indiana, Illinois, South Carolina, and Louisiana, entail was
never introduced.  Those States which thought proper to preserve the
English law of entail, modified it in such a way as to deprive it of its
most aristocratic tendencies.  `Our general principles on the subject of
government,' says Mr Kent, `tend to favour the free circulation of
property.'

"It cannot fail to strike the French reader who studies the law of
inheritance, that on these questions the French legislation is
infinitely more democratic even than the American.

"The American law makes an equal division of the father's property, but
only in the case of his will not being known; `for every man,' says the
law, `in the State of New York, (_Revised Statutes_, volume III,
_Appendix_, page 51), has entire liberty, power, and authority, to
dispose of his property by will, to leave it entire, or divided in
favour of any persons he choses as his heirs, provided he do not leave
it to a political body or any corporation.'  The French law obliges the
testator to divide his property equally, or nearly so, among his heirs.

"Most of the American republics still admit of entails, under certain
restrictions; but the French law prohibits entail in all cases.

"If the social condition of the Americans is more democratic than that
of the French, the laws of the latter are the most democratic of the
two.  This may be explained more easily than at first appears to be the
case.  In France, democracy is still occupied in the work of
destruction; in America, it reigns quietly over the ruins it has
made."--_Democracy in America, by A De Tocqueville_.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 3.  In New England the estates are exceedingly small, but they are
rarely subjected to further division.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 4.  It may also be here observed, that the Americans have little
opportunity of judging favourably of the English by the usual
_importations_ to their country.  They all call themselves English
_Gentlemen_, and are too often supposed to be, and are received as such.
I have often been told that I should meet with an English gentleman or
an English merchant, and the parties mostly proved to be nothing but
travellers, bagsmen, or even worse.  If the sterling Americans stay at
home, and send the bad ones to us, and we do the same, neither party
will be likely to form a very favourable opinion of the other for some
time to come.



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SEVEN.

GOVERNMENT.

It is not my intention to enter into a lengthened examination of the
American form of government.  I have said that, as a government, "with
all its imperfections, it is the best suited to _the present condition
of America_, in _so far as_ it is the one under which the country has
made, and will continue to make, the most rapid strides;" but I have not
said that it was a better form of government than others.  Its very
weakness is favourable to the advance of the country; it may be compared
to a vessel which, from her masts not being wedged, and her timbers
being loose, sails faster than one more securely fastened.  Considered
merely as governments for the preservation of order and the equalisation
of pressure upon the people, I believe that few governments are bad, as
there are always some correcting influences, moral or otherwise, which
strengthen those portions which are the weakest.  A despot, for
instance, although his power is acknowledged and submitted to, will not
exercise tyranny too far, from the fear of assassination.

I have inserted in an Appendix the Form of the American Constitution,
and if my readers wish to examine more closely into it, I must refer
them to M.  Tocqueville's excellent work.  The first point which must
strike the reader who examines into it is, that it is extremely
complicated.  It is, and it is not.  It is so far complicated that a
variety of wheels are at work; but it is not complicated, from the
circumstance that the _same principle_ prevails throughout, from the
Township to the Federal Head, and that it is put in motion by one great
and universal propelling power.  It may be compared to a cotton-thread
manufactory, in which thousands and thousands of reels and spindles are
all at work, the labour of so many smaller reels turned over to larger,
which in their turn yield up their produce, until the whole is collected
into one mass.  The principle of the American Government is good; the
power that puts it in motion is enormous, and therefore, like the
complicated machinery I have compared it to, it requires constant
attention, and proper regulation of the propelling power, that it may
not become out of order.  The propelling power is the sovereignty of the
people, otherwise the will of the majority.  The motion of all
propelling powers must be regulated by a fly-wheel, or corrective check,
if not, the motion will gradually accelerate, until the machinery is
destroyed by the increase of friction.  But there are other causes by
which the machinery may be deranged; as, although the smaller portions
of the machine, if defective, may at any time be taken out and repaired
without its being necessary for the machine to stop; yet if the larger
wheels are by any chance thrown out of their equilibrium, the machinery
may be destroyed just as it would be by a too rapid motion, occasioned
by the excess of propelling power.  Further, there are external causes
which may endanger it: any machine may be thrown out of its level by a
convulsion, or shock, which will cause it to cease working, if even it
does not break it into fragments.

Now, the dangers which _threaten_ the United States are, the Federal
Government being still weaker than it is at present, or its becoming, as
it may from circumstances, too powerful.

The _present_ situation of the American Government is that the
fly-wheel, or regulator of the propelling power (that is to say the
aristocracy, or power of the senate,) has been nearly destroyed, and the
consequences are that the motion is at this moment too much accelerated,
and threatens in a few years to increase its rapidity, at the risk of
the destruction of the whole machinery.

But, although it will be necessary to point out the weakness of the
Federal Government, when opposed to the States or the majority, inasmuch
as the morality of the people is seriously affected by this weakness, my
object is not to enter into the merits of the government of the United
States as a _working_ government, but to inquire how far the Americans
are correct in their boast of its being a model for other countries.

Let us consider what is the best form of government.  Certainly that
which most contributes to security of life and property, and renders
those happy and moral who are submitted to it.  This I believe will be
generally acknowledged, and it is upon these grounds that the government
of the United States must be tested.  They abjured our monarchy, and
left their country for a distant land, to obtain _freedom_.  They railed
at the vices and imperfections of continental rule, and proposed to
themselves a government which should be perfect, under which every man
should have his due weight in the representation, and prove to the world
that a people could govern themselves.  Disgusted with the immorality of
the age and the disregard to religion, they anticipated an amendment in
the state of society.  This new, and supposed perfect, machinery has
been working for upwards of sixty years, and let us now examine how far
the theory has been supported and borne out by the practical result.

I must first remind the reader that I have already shewn the weakness of
the Federal Government upon one most important point, which is, that
there is not sufficient security for person and property.  When such is
the case, there cannot be that adequate punishment for vice so necessary
to uphold the morals of a people.  I will now proceed to prove the
weakness of the Federal Government whenever it has to combat with the
several States, or with the will of the majority.

It will be perceived, by an examination into the Constitution of the
United States, that the States have reserved for themselves all the real
power, and that the Federal Union exists but upon their sufferance.
Each State still insists upon its right to withdraw itself from the
Union whenever it pleases, and the consequence of this right is, that in
every conflict with a State, the Federal Government has invariably to
succumb.  M.  Tocqueville observes, "If the sovereignty of the Union
were to engage in a struggle with that of the States, at the present
day, its defeat may be confidently predicted; and it is not probable
that such a struggle would be seriously undertaken.  As often as a
steady resistance is offered to the Federal Government, it will be found
to yield.  Experience has hitherto shewn that whenever a State has
demanded any thing with perseverance and resolution, it has invariably
succeeded; and that if a separate government has distinctly refused to
act, it was left to do as it thought fit.  See Note 1.

"But even if the government of the Union had any strength inherent in
itself, the physical situation of the country would render the excise of
that strength very difficult.  [See Note 2.] The United States cover an
immense territory; they were separated from each other by great
distances; and the population is disseminated over the surface of a
country which is still half a wilderness.  If the Union were to
undertake to enforce the allegiance of the confederate States by
military means, it would be in a position very analagous to that of
England at the time of the War of Independence."

The Federal Government never displayed more weakness than in the
question of the tariff put upon English goods to support the
manufacturers of the Northern States.  The Southern States, as producers
and exporters, complained of this as prejudicial to their interests.
South Carolina, one of the smallest States, led the van, and the storm
rose.  This State passed an act by convention, _annulling_ the Federal
Act of the tariff, armed her militia, and prepared for war.  The
consequence was that the Federal Government abandoned the principle of
the tariff, but at the same time, to save the disgrace of its defeat, it
passed an act warranting the President to _put down resistance by
force_, or, in other words, making the Union _compulsory_.  South
Carolina _annulled_ this law of the Federal Government, but as the State
gained its point by the Federal Government having abandoned the
principle of the tariff, the matter ended.

Another instance in which the Federal Government showed its weakness
when opposed to a State, was in its conflict with Georgia.  The Federal
Government had entered into a solemn, and what ought to have been an
inviolable treaty, with the Cherokee Indians, securing to them the
remnant of their lands in the State of Georgia.  The seventh Article of
that treaty says, "The United States _solemnly_ guarantee to the
Cherokee nation all their lands not hitherto ceded."  The State of
Georgia, when its population increased, did not like the Indians to
remain, and insisted upon their removal.  What was the result?--that the
Federal Government, in violation of a solemn treaty and the national
honour, submitted to the dictation of Georgia, and the Indians were
removed to the other side of the Mississippi.

These instances are sufficient to prove the weakness of the Federal
Government when opposed to the States; it is still weaker when opposed
to the will of the majority.  I have already quoted many instances of
the exercise of this uncontrolled will.  I do not refer to Lynch law, or
the reckless murders in the Southern States, but to the riots in the
most civilised cities, such as Boston, New York, and Baltimore, in which
outrages and murders have been committed without the Government ever
presuming to punish the perpetrators; but the strongest evidence of the
helplessness of the Government, when opposed to the majority, has been
in the late Canadian troubles, which, I fear, have only for the season
subsided.  If many have doubts of the sincerity of the President of the
United States in his attempts to prevent the interference of the
Americans, there can be no doubt but that General Scott, Major Worth,
and the other American officers sent to the frontiers, did their utmost
to prevent the excesses which were committed, and to allay the
excitement; and every one is aware how unavailing were their efforts.
The magazines were broken open, the field-pieces and muskets taken
possession of; large subscriptions of money poured in from every
quarter; farmers sent waggon-loads of pigs, corn, and buffalos, to
support the insurgents.  No one would, indeed no one could, act against
the will of the majority, and these officers found themselves left to
their individual and useless exertions.

The militia at Detroit were ordered out: they could not refuse to obey
the summons, as they were individually liable to fine and imprisonment;
but as they said, very truly, "You may call us out, but when we come
into action we will point our muskets in which direction we please."
Indeed, they did assist the insurgents and fire at our people; and when
the insurgents were defeated, one of the drums which they had with them,
and which was captured by our troops, was marked with the name of the
militia corps which had been called out to repel them.

When the people are thus above the law, it is of very little consequence
whether the law is more or less weak; at present the Federal Government
is a mere cypher when opposed by the majority.  Have, then, the
Americans improved upon us in this point?  It is generally admitted that
a strong and vigorous government, which can act when it is necessary to
restrain the passions of men under excitement, is most favourable to
social order and happiness; but, on the contrary, when the dormant power
of the executive should be brought into action, all that the Federal
Government can do is to become a passive spectator or a disregarded
suppliant.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1.  See the conduct of the Northern States in the war of 1812.
"During that war," says Jefferson in a letter to General Lafayette,
"four of the Eastern States were only attached to the Union, like so
many inanimate bodies to living men."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 2.  The profound peace of the Union affords no pretext for a
standing army; and without a standing army a Government is not prepared
to profit by a favourable opportunity to conquer resistance, and take
the sovereign power by surprise.



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER EIGHT.

The next question to be examined into is, has this government of the
United States set an example of honour, good faith, and moral principle,
to those who are subjected to it?--has it, by so behaving, acted
favourably upon the morals of the people, and corrected the vices and
errors of the monarchical institutions which the Americans hold up to
such detestation?

The Americans may be said to have had, till within the last twenty
years, little or no relation with other countries.  They have had few
treaties to make, and very little diplomatic arrangements with the old
Continent.  But even if they had had, they must not be judged by them; a
certain degree of national honour is necessary to every nation, if they
would have the respect of others, and a dread of the consequences would
always compel them to adhere to any treaty made with great and powerful
countries.  The question is, has the Federal Government adhered to its
treaties and promises made with and to those who have been too weak to
defend themselves?  Has it not repeatedly, in the short period of their
existence as a nation, violated the national honour whenever without
being in fear of retaliation or exposure it has been able to do so.  Let
this question be answered by an examination into their conduct towards
the unhappy Indians, _who_, to use their own expression, are "now
melting away like snow before the white men."  We are not to estimate
the morality of a government by its strict adherence to its compacts
with the powerful, but by its strict moral sense of justice towards the
weak and defenceless; and it should be borne in mind, that one example
of a breach of faith on the part of a democratic government, is more
injurious to the morals of the people tinder that government than a
thousand instances of breach of faith which may occur in society; for a
people who have no aristocracy to set the example, must naturally look
to the conduct of their rulers and to their decisions, as a standard for
their guidance.  To enumerate the multiplied breaches of faith towards
the Indians would swell out this work to an extra volume.  It was a
bitter sarcasm of the Seminole chief, who, referring to the terms used
in the treaties, told the Indian agents that the white man's "_for
ever_" did not _last long enough_.  Even in its payment of the trifling
sums for the lands sold by the Indians and resold at an enormous profit,
the American Government has not been willing to adhere to its agreement;
and two years ago, when the Indians came for their money, the American
Government told them, like an Israelite dealer, that they must take half
money and half goods.  The Indians remonstrated; the chiefs replied,
"Our young men have purchased upon credit, as they are wont to do; they
require the dollars, to pay honestly what they owe."

"Is our great father so poor?" said one chief to the Indian agent; "I
will lend him some money;" and he ordered several thousand dollars to be
brought, and offered them to the agent.

In the Florida war, to which I shall again refer, the same want of faith
has been exercised.  Unable to drive the Indians out of their swamps and
morasses, they have persuaded them to come into a council, under a flag
of truce.  This flag of truce has been violated, and the Indians have
been thrown into prison until they could be sent away to the Far West,
that is, if they survived their captivity, which the gallant Osceola
could not.  Let it not be supposed that the officers employed are the
parties to blame in these acts; it is, generally speaking, the Indian
agents who are employed in these nefarious transactions.  Among these
agents there are many honourable men, but a corrupt government will
always find people corrupt enough to do anything it may wish.  But any
language that I can use as to the conduct of the American Government
towards the Indians would be light, compared to the comments made in my
presence by the _officers_ and other American _gentlemen_ upon this
subject.  Indeed, the indignation expressed is so general, that it
proves there is less morality in the Government than there is in the
nation.

With the exception of the Florida war, which still continues, the last
contest which the American Government had with the Indians was with the
Sacs and Foxes, commanded by the celebrated chief, Black Hawk.  The Sacs
and Foxes at that period held a large tract of land on Rock river, in
the territory of Ioway, on the east side of the Mississippi, which the
Government wished, perforce, to take from them.  The following is Black
Hawk's account of the means by which this land was obtained.  The war
was occasioned by Black Hawk disowning the treaty and attempting to
repossess the territory.

"Some moons after this young chief (Lieutenant Pike) descended the
Mississippi, one of our people killed an American, and was confined in
the prison at St Louis for the offence.  We held a council at our
village to see what could be done for him, which determined that
Quash-qua-me, Pa-she-pa-ho, Ou-che-qua-ha, and Ha-she-quar-hi-qua,
should go down to St Louis, and see our American father, and do all
they could to have our friend released; by paying for the person killed,
thus covering the blood and satisfying the relations of the man
murdered!  This being the only means with us of saving a person who had
killed another, and we _then_ thought it was the same way with the
whites.

"The party started with the good wishes of the whole nation, hoping they
would accomplish the object of their mission.  The relations of the
prisoner blacked their faces and fasted, hoping the Great Spirit would
take pity on them, and return the husband and the father to his wife and
children.

"Quash-qua-me and party remained a long time absent.  They at length
returned, and encamped a short distance below the village, but did not
come up that day, nor did any person approach their camp.  They appeared
to be dressed in fine coats and had medals.  From these circumstances,
we were in hopes they had brought us good news.  Early the next morning,
the council lodge was crowded; Quash-qua-me and party came up, and gave
us the following account of their mission:--

"On their arrival at St Louis, they met their American father, and
explained to him their business, and urged the release of their friend.
The American chief told them he wanted land, and they agreed to give him
some on the west side of the Mississippi, and some on the Illinois side,
opposite the Jeffreon.  When the business was all arranged, they
expected to have their friend released to come home with them.  But
about the time they were ready to start, their friend, who was led out
of prison, ran a short distance, and was _shot dead_.  This is all they
could recollect of what was said and done.  They had _been drunk_ the
greater part of the time they were in St Louis.

"This is all myself or nation knew of the _treaty of_ 1804.  It has been
explained to me since.  I find by that treaty, all our country east of
the Mississippi, and south of the Jeffreon, was ceded to the United
States for one thousand dollars a year!  I will leave it to the people
of the United States to say, whether our nation was properly represented
in this treaty? or whether we received a fair compensation for the
extent of country ceded by those four individuals.  I could say much
mere about this treaty, but I will not at this time.  It has been the
origin of all our difficulties."

Indeed, I have reason to believe that the major portion of the land
obtained from the Indians has been ceded by parties who had no power to
sell it, and the treaties with these parties have been enforced by the
Federal Government.

In a Report for the protection of the Western Frontier, submitted to
Congress by the Secretary of War, we have a very fair expose of the
conduct and intentions of the American Government towards the Indians.
Although the Indians continue to style the President of the United
States as their Great Father, yet, in this report, the Indian feeling
which really exists towards the American people is honestly avowed; it
says in its preamble--

"As yet no community of feeling, except of _deep and lasting hatred_ to
the white man, and particularly to the _Anglo-Americans_, exists among
them, and, unless they coalesce, no serious difficulty need be
apprehended from them.  Not so, however, should they be induced to unite
for purposes offensive and defensive; their strength would then become
apparent, create confidence, and in all probability induce them to give
vent to their long-suppressed desire to _revenge past wrongs_, which is
restrained, as they openly and freely confess, by fear alone."

And speaking of the feuds between the tribes, as in the case of the
Sioux and Chippeways, which, as I have observed in my Journal, the
American Government _pretended_ to be anxious to make up; it appears
that this anxiety is not so very great, for the Report says--

"Should it however prove otherwise, the United States will, whenever
they choose, be able to bring the whole of the Sioux force (the
hereditary and irreclaimable enemy to every other Indian) to bear
against the hostiles; or _vice versa_, should our difficulty be with the
Sioux nation.  And the suggestion is made, whether prudence does not
require, that _those hereditary feelings_ should not rather be
_maintained_ than destroyed by efforts to cultivate a closer reunion
between them."

This Report also very delicately points out, when speaking of the
necessity of a larger force on the frontier, that, "it is merely
adverted to in connexion with the heavy obligations which rest upon the
Government, and which have been probably contracted from time to time
without any _very nice calculation_ of the means which would be
necessary to a _faithful discharge_ of them."

I doubt whether this Report would have been presented by Congress had
there been any idea of its finding its way to the Old Country.
By-and-by I shall refer to it again.  I have made these few extracts
merely to shew that expediency, and not moral feeling, is the principle
alone which guides the Federal Government of the United States.

The next instance which I shall bring forward to prove the want of
principle of the Federal Government is its permitting, and it may be
said tacitly acquiescing, in the seizure of the province of Texas, and
allowing it to be ravished from the Mexican Government, with whom they
were on terms of amity, but who was unfortunately too weak to help
herself.  In this instance the American Government had no excuse, as it
actually had an army on the frontier, and could have compelled the
insurgents to go back; but no; it perceived that the Texas, if in its
hands, or if independent of Mexico, would become a mart for their extra
slave population, that it was the finest country in the world for
producing cotton, and that it would be an immense addition of valuable
territory.  Dr Channing's letter to Mr Clay is so forcible on this
question, enters so fully into the merits of the case, and points out so
clearly the nefariousness of the transaction, that I shall now quote a
few passages from this best of American authority.  Indeed, I consider
that this letter of Dr Channing is the principal cause why the American
Government have not as yet admitted Texas into the Union.  The efforts
of the Northern States would not have prevented it, but it has actually
been shamed by Dr Channing, who says--

"The United States have not been just to Mexico.  Our citizens did not
steal singly, silently, in disguise, into that land.  Their purpose of
dismembering Mexico, and attaching her distant province to this country,
was not wrapt in mystery.  It was proclaimed in our public prints.
Expeditions were openly fitted out within our borders for the Texan war.
Troops were organised, equipped, and marched for the scene of action.
Advertisements for volunteers, to be enrolled and conducted to Texas at
the expense of that territory, were inserted in our newspapers.  The
Government, indeed, issued its proclamation, forbidding these hostile
preparations; but this was a dead letter.  Military companies, with
officers and standards, in defiance of proclamations, and in the face of
day, directed their steps to the revolted province.  We had, indeed, an
army near the frontiers of Mexico.  Did it turn back these invaders of a
land with which we were at peace?  On the contrary, did not its presence
give confidence to the revolters?  After this, what construction of our
conduct shall we force on the world, if we proceed, especially at this
moment, to receive into our Union the territory, which, through our
neglect, has fallen a prey to lawless invasion?  Are we willing to take
our place among robber-states?  As a people have we no self-respect?
Have we no reverence for national morality?  Have we no feeling of
responsibility to other nations, and to Him by whom the fates of nations
are disposed?"

Dr Channing then proceeds:--

"Some crimes by their magnitude have a touch of the sublime; and to this
dignity the seizure of Texas by our citizens is entitled.  Modern times
furnish no example of individual rapine on so grand a scale.  It is
nothing less than the robbery of a realm.  The pirate seizes a ship.
The colonists and their coadjutors can satisfy themselves with nothing
short of an empire.  They have left their Anglo-Saxon ancestors behind
them.  Those barbarians conformed to the maxims of their age, to the
rude code of nations in time of thickest heathen darkness.  They invaded
England under their sovereigns, and with the sanction of the gloomy
religion of the North.  But it is in a civilised age, and amidst
refinements of manners; it is amidst the lights of science and the
teachings of Christianity; amidst expositions of the law of nations and
enforcements of the law of universal love; amidst institutions of
religion, learning, and humanity, that the robbery of Texas has found
its instruments.  It is from a free, well-ordered, enlightened Christian
country, that hordes have gone forth in open day, to perpetrate _this
mighty wrong_."

I shall conclude my remarks upon this point with one more extract from
the same writer.

"A nation, provoking war by cupidity, by encroachment, and, above all,
by efforts to propagate the curse of slavery, is alike false to itself,
to God, and to the human race."

Having now shewn how far the Federal Government may be considered as
upholding the purity of its institutions by the example of its conduct
towards others, let us examine whether in its domestic management it
sets a proper example to the nation.  It cries out against the bribery
and corruption of England.  Is it itself free from this imputation?

The author of a `Voice from America' observes, "In such an unauthorised,
unconstitutional, and loose state of things, millions of the public
money may be appropriated to electioneering and party purposes, and to
buy up friends of the administration, without being open to proof or
liable to account.  It is a simple _matter of fact_, that all the public
funds lost in this way, have actually gone to buy up friends to the
government, whether the defalcations were matters of understanding
between the powers at Washington and these parties, or not.  The money
is gone, and is going; and it goes to friends.  So much is true,
whatever else is false.  And what has already been used up in this way,
according to official report, is sufficient to buy the votes of a large
fraction of the population of the United States,--that is to say,
sufficient to produce an influence adequate to secure them.  On the 17th
of January, 1838, the United States treasurer reported to Congress
_sixty-three_ defalcators (individuals), in all to the amount of upwards
of a _million_ of dollars, without touching the vast amounts lost in the
local banks,--a mere beginning of the end."

As I have before observed, when Mr Adams was President, a Mr B Walker
was thrown into prison for being a defaulter to the extent of eighteen
thousand dollars.  Why are none of these defaulters to the amount of
upwards a million of dollars punished?  If the government thinks proper
to allow them to remain at liberty, does it not virtually wink at their
dishonesty.  Neither the defaulters nor their securities are touched.
It would appear as if it were an understood arrangement; the government
telling these parties, who have assisted them, "we cannot actually pay
you money down for your services; but we will put money under your
control, and you may, if you please, _help_ yourself."  What has been
the result of this conduct upon society?--that as the government does
not consider a breach of faith as deserving of punishment, society does
not think so either; and thus are the people demoralised, not only by
the example of government in its foreign relations, but by its leniency
towards those individuals who are as regardless of faith as the
government has proved to be itself.

Indeed, it may be boldly asserted, that in every measure taken by the
Federal Government, the moral effect of that measure upon the people has
never been thought worthy of a moment's consideration.



VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER NINE.

We must now examine into one or two other points.  The Americans
consider that they are the only people on earth who govern themselves.
They assert that _we_ have not a free and perfect representation.  We
will not dispute that point; the question is, not what the case in
England may be, but what America may have gained.  This is certain, that
if they have not a free impartial representation, they do _not_, as they
suppose, govern themselves.  Have they, with universal suffrage,
obtained a representation free from bribery and corruption?  If they
have, they certainly have gained their point; if they have not, they
have sacrificed much, and have obtained nothing.

By a calculation which I made at the time I was in the United States of
all the various elections which took place annually, biennially, and at
longer dates, including those for the Federal Government, the separate
governments of each State, and many other elective offices, there are
about two thousand five hundred elections of different descriptions
every year; and if I were to add the civic elections, which are equally
political, I do not know what amount they would arrive at.  In this
country we have on an average about two hundred elections per annum, so
that, in America, for thirteen millions, they have two thousand five
hundred elections, and in England for twenty-seven millions, two
hundred, on the average, during the year.

It must, however, be admitted, that the major portion of these elections
in the United States pass off quietly, probably from the comparative
want of interest excited by them, and the continual repetition which
takes place; but when the important elections are in progress the case
is very different; the excitement then becomes universal; the coming
election is the theme of every tongue, the all-engrossing topic, and
nothing else is listened or paid attention to.

It must be remembered, that the struggle in America is for place, not
for principle; for whichever party obtains power, their principle of
acting is much the same.  Occasionally a question of moment will come
forward and nearly convulse the Union, but this is very rare; the
general course of legislation is in a very narrow compass, and is seldom
more than a mere routine of business.  With the majority, who lead a
party, (particularly the one at present in power), the contest is not,
therefore, for principle, but, it may almost be said, for bread; and
this is one great cause of the virulence accompanying their election
struggles.  The election of the President is of course the most
important.  M.  Tocqueville has well described it, "For a long while
before the appointed time is at hand, the election becomes the most
important and the all-engrossing topic of discussion.  The ardour of
faction is redoubled; and all the artificial passions which the
imagination can create in the bosom of a happy and peaceful land are and
brought to light.  The President, on the other hand, is absorbed by the
cares of self-defence.  He no longer governs for the interest of the
State, but for that of his re-election; he does homage to the majority,
and instead of checking its passions, as his duty commands him to do, he
frequently courts its worst caprices.  As the election draws near, the
activity of intrigue and the agitation of the populace increase; the
citizens are divided into hostile camps, each of which assumes the name
of its favourite candidate; the whole nation glows with feverish
excitement; the election is the daily theme of the public papers, the
subject of private conversation, the end of every thought and every
action, the sole interest of the present."

Of course the elections in the large cities are those which next occupy
the public attention.  I have before stated, that at the last election
in New York the committees of the opposite party were bought over by the
Whigs, and that by this bribery the election was gained; but I will now
quote from the Americans themselves, and let the reader then decide in
which country, England or America, there is most purity of election.

"On the 9th, 10th, and 11th instant, a local election for mayor and
charter-offices was held in this city.  It resulted in the defeat of the
Whig party.  The Loco-focos had a majority of about one thousand and
fifty for their mayor.  Last April the Whigs had a majority of about
five hundred.  There are seventeen wards, and seventeen polls were
opened.  The out, or suburb, wards presented _the most disgraceful
scenes of riot, fraud, corruption, and perjury_, that were ever
witnessed in this or any other country on a similar occasion.  The whole
number of votes polled was forty-one thousand three hundred.  It is a
notorious fact, that there are not forty thousand legal voters residing
in the city.  In the abstract this election is but of little importance.
Its moral influence on other sections of the country remains to be
seen.  Generally, the effect of such a triumph is unfavourable to the
defeated party in other places; and it would be so in the present
instance, if the contest had been an ordinary contest, but the
circumstances to which I have referred of fraud, corruption, and
perjury, may, or may not, re-act upon the alleged authors of these
shameless proceedings."

Again, "The moderate and thinking men of both parties--indeed, we may
say every honourable man who has been a spectator of recent events--feel
shocked at the frauds, perjury, and corruption, which too evidently
enabled the administration party to poll so powerful a vote.  What are
we coming to in this country?  A peaceable contest at the polls