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.]

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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.

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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.

+========================+==========+========+================+ Y Ycopies printedYTrade priceY Y +————————————-+———————+—————-+————————+ YFielding Y 2,500Y104 cents Ymany left unsoldY +————————————-+———————+—————-+————————+ YPrior's Life of GoldsmithY 750Y200 cents Ysold Y +————————————-+———————+—————-+————————+ YArethusa Y 1,250Y70 cents Yall sold Y +————————————-+———————+—————-+————————+ YAbel Allnut Y 1,250Y52 cents Yalmost all sold Y +————————————-+———————+—————-+————————+ YFellow Commoner Y 2,000Y70 cents Ymany on hand Y +————————————-+———————+—————-+————————+ YRifle Brigade Y 2,000Y37 cents Ymany on hand Y +————————————-+———————+—————-+————————+ YSharpe's Essays Y 1,000Y54 cents Yone half sold Y +========================+==========+========+================+

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."

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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."

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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.

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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.