North America, V. II ...........................................................................................................................................1

Anthony Trollope .....................................................................................................................................1

CHAPTER 1. WASHINGTON...............................................................................................................1

CHAPTER II. CONGRESS. ..................................................................................................................13

CHAPTER III. THE CAUSES OF THE WAR. ....................................................................................21

CHAPTER IV. WASHINGTON TO ST. LOUIS.................................................................................32

CHAPTER V. MISSOURI....................................................................................................................43

CHAPTER VI. CAIRO AND CAMP WOOD......................................................................................52

CHAPTER VII. THE ARMY OF THE NORTH..................................................................................62

CHAPTER VIII. BACK TO BOSTON. ................................................................................................76

CHAPTER IX. THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. .................................................85

CHAPTER X. THE GOVERNMENT. ................................................................................................105

CHAPTER XI. THE LAW COURTS AND LAWYERS OF THE UNITED STATES. ....................112

CHAPTER XII. THE FINANCIAL POSITION.................................................................................118

CHAPTER XIII. THE POSTOFFICE. ..............................................................................................127

CHAPTER XIV. AMERICAN HOTELS. ...........................................................................................135

CHAPTER XV. LITERATURE. .........................................................................................................142

CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION.......................................................................................................148

The site of the present City of Washington was chosen with three special views: firstly, that being on the

Potomac it might have the full advantage of watercarriage and a seaport; secondly, that it might be so far

removed from the seaboard as to be safe from invasion; and, thirdly, that it might be central alike to all the

States. It was presumed, when Washington was founded, that these three advantages would be secured by the

selected position. As regards the first, the Potomac affords to the city but few of the advantages of a seaport.

Ships can come up, but not ships of large burden. The river seems to have dwindled since the site was chosen,

and at present it is, I think, evident that Washington can never be great in its shipping. Statio benefida carinis

can never be its motto. As regards the second point, singularly enough Washington is the only city of the

Union that has been in an enemy's possession since the United States became a nation. In the war of 1812 it

fell into our hands, and we burned it. As regards the third point, Washington, from the lie of the land, can

hardly have been said to be centrical at any time. Owing to the irregularities of the coast it is not easy of

access by railways from different sides. Baltimore would have been far better. But as far as we can now see,

and as well as we can now judge, Washington will soon be on the borders of the nation to which it belongs,

instead of at its center. I fear, therefore, that we must acknowledge that the site chosen for his country's

I have a strong idea, which I expressed before in speaking of the capital of the Canadas, that no man can

ordain that on such a spot shall be built a great and thriving city. No man can so ordain even though he leave

behind him, as was the case with Washington, a prestige sufficient to bind his successors to his wishes. The

political leaders of the country have done what they could for Washington. The pride of the nation has

endeavored to sustain the character of its chosen metropolis. There has been no rival, soliciting favor on the

strength of other charms. The country has all been agreed on the point since the father of the country first

commenced the work. Florence and Rome in Italy have each their pretensions; but in the States no other city

has put itself forward for the honor of entertaining Congress. And yet Washington has been a failure. It is

commerce that makes great cities, and commerce has refused to back the general's choice. New York and

Philadelphia, without any political power, have become great among the cities of the earth. They are beaten

by none except by London and Paris. But Washington is but a ragged, unfinished collection of unbuilt broad

streets, as to the completion of which there can now, I imagine, be but little hope.

Of all places that I know it is the most ungainly and most unsatisfactory: I fear I must also say the most

presumptuous in its pretensions. There is a map of Washington accurately laid down; and taking that map

with him in his journeyings, a man may lose himself in the streets, not as one loses one's self in London,

between Shoreditch and Russell Square, but as one does so in the deserts of the Holy Land, between Emmaus

and Arimathea. In the first place no one knows where the places are, or is sure of their existence, and then

between their presumed localities the country is wild, trackless, unbridged, uninhabited, and desolate.

Massachusetts Avenue runs the whole length of the city, and is inserted on the maps as a fullblown street,

about four miles in length. Go there, and you will find yourself not only out of town, away among the fields,

but you will find yourself beyond the fields, in an uncultivated, undrained wilderness. Tucking your trowsers

up to your knees you will wade through the bogs, you will lose yourself among rude hillocks, you will be out

of the reach of humanity. The unfinished dome of the Capitol will loom before you in the distance, and you

will think that you approach the ruins of some western Palmyra. If you are a sportsman, you will desire to

shoot snipe within sight of the President's house. There is much unsettled land within the States of America,

but I think none so desolate in its state of nature as threefourths of the ground on which is supposed to stand

The City of Washington is something more than four miles long, and is something more than two miles

broad. The land apportioned to it is nearly as compact as may be, and it exceeds in area the size of a

parallelogram four miles long by two broad. These dimensions are adequate for a noble city, for a city to

contain a million of inhabitants. It is impossible to state with accuracy the actual population of Washington,

for it fluctuates exceedingly. The place is very full during Congress, and very empty during the recess. By

which I mean it to be understood that those streets which are blessed with houses are full when Congress

meets. I do not think that Congress makes much difference to Massachusetts Avenue. I believe that the city

never contains as many as eighty thousand, and that its permanent residents are less than sixty thousand.

But, it will be said, was it not well to prepare for a growing city? Is it not true that London is choked by its

own fatness, not having been endowed at its birth or during its growth with proper means for accommodating

its own increasing proportions? Was it not well to lay down fine avenues and broad streets, so that future

There is no doubt much in such an argument, but its correctness must be tested by its success. When a man

marries it is well that be should make provision for a coming family. But a Benedict, who early in his career

shall have carried his friends with considerable selfapplause through half a dozen nurseries, and at the end

of twelve years shall still be the father of one rickety baby, will incur a certain amount of ridicule. It is very

well to be prepared for good fortune, but one should limit one's preparation within a reasonable scope. Two

miles by one might, perhaps, have done for the skeleton sketch of a new city. Less than half that would

contain much more than the present population of Washington; and there are, I fear, few towns in the Union

Three avenues sweep the whole length of Washington: Virginia Avenue, Pennsylvania Avenue, and

Massachusetts Avenue. But Pennsylvania Avenue is the only one known to ordinary men, and the half of that

only is so known. This avenue is the backbone of the city, and those streets which are really inhabited cluster

round that half of it which runs westward from the Capitol. The eastern end, running from the front of the

Capitol, is again a desert. The plan of the city is somewhat complicated. It may truly be called "a mighty

maze, but not without a plan." The Capitol was intended to be the center of the city. It faces eastward, away

from the Potomacor rather from the main branch of the Potomac, and also unfortunately from the main

body of the town. It turns its back upon the chief thoroughfare, upon the Treasury buildings, and upon the

President's house, and, indeed, upon the whole place. It was, I suppose, intended that the streets to the

eastward should be noble and populous, but hitherto they have come to nothing. The building, therefore, is

wrong side foremost, and all mankind who enter it, Senators, Representatives, and judges included, go in at

the back door. Of course it is generally known that in the Capitol is the chamber of the Senate, that of the

House of Representatives, and the Supreme Judicial Court of the Union. It may be said that there are two

centers in Washington, this being one and the President's house the other. At these centers the main avenues

are supposed to cross each other, which avenues are called by the names of the respective States. At the

Capitol, Pennsylvania Avenue, New Jersey Avenue, Delaware Avenue, and Maryland Avenue converge.

They come from one extremity of the city to the square of the Capitol on one side, and run out from the other

side of it to the other extremity of the city. Pennsylvania Avenue, New York Avenue, Vermont Avenue, and

Connecticut Avenue do the same at what is generally called President's Square. In theory, or on paper, this

seems to be a clear and intelligible arrangement; but it does not work well. These center depots are large

spaces, and consequently one portion of a street is removed a considerable distance from the other. It is as

though the same name should be given to two streets, one of which entered St. James's Park at Buckingham

Gate, while the other started from the Park at Marlborough, House. To inhabitants the matter probably is not

of much moment, as it is well known that this portion of such an avenue and that portion of such another

avenue are merely mythsunknown lands away in the wilds. But a stranger finds himself in the position of

being sent across the country knee deep into the mud, wading through snipe grounds, looking for civilization

All these avenues have a slanting direction. They are so arranged that none of them run north and south, or

east and west; but the streets, so called, all run in accordance with the points of the compass. Those from east

to west are A Street, B Street, C Street, and so oncounting them away from the Capitol on each side, so

that there are two A streets and two B streets. On the map these streets run up to V Street, both right and

leftV Street North and V Street South. Those really known to mankind are E, F, G, H, I, and K Streets

North. Then those streets which run from north to south are numbered First Street, Second Street, Third

Street, and so on, on each front of the Capitol, running to Twentyfourth or Twentyfifth Street on each side.

Not very many of these have any existence, or, I might perhaps more properly say, any vitality in their

Such is the plan of the city, that being the arrangement and those the dimensions intended by the original

architects and founders of Washington; but the inhabitants have hitherto confined themselves to Pennsylvania

Avenue West, and to the streets abutting from it or near to it. Whatever address a stranger may receive,

however perplexing it may seem to him, he may be sure that the house indicated is near Pennsylvania

Avenue. If it be not, I should recommend him to pay no attention to the summons. Even in those streets with

which he will become best acquainted, the houses are not continuous. There will be a house, and then a

blank; then two houses, and then a double blank. After that a hut or two, and then probably an excellent,

roomy, handsome family mansion. Taken altogether, Washington as a city is most unsatisfactory, and falls

more grievously short of the thing attempted than any other of the great undertakings of which I have seen

anything in the States. San Jose, the capital of the republic of Costa Rica, in Central America, has been

prepared and arranged as a new city in the same way. But even San Jose comes nearer to what was intended

For myself, I do not believe in cities made after this fashion. Commerce, I think, must select the site of all

large congregations of mankind. In some mysterious way she ascertains what she wants, and having acquired

that, draws men in thousands round her properties. Liverpool, New York, Lyons, Glasgow, Venice,

Marseilles, Hamburg, Calcutta, Chicago, and Leghorn have all become populous, and are or have been great,

because trade found them to be convenient for its purposes. Trade seems to have ignored Washington

altogether. Such being the case, the Legislature and the Executive of the country together have been unable to

make of Washington anything better than a straggling congregation of buildings in a wilderness. We are now

trying the same experiment at Ottawa, in Canada, having turned our back upon Montreal in dudgeon. The site

of Ottawa is more interesting than that of Washington, but I doubt whether the experiment will be more

successful. A new town for art, fashion, and politics has been built at Munich, and there it seems to answer

the expectation of the builders; but at Munich there is an old city as well, and commerce had already got

The streets of Washington, such as exist, are all broad. Throughout the town there are open spacesspaces, I

mean, intended to be open by the plan laid down for the city. At the present moment it is almost all open

space. There is also a certain nobility about the proposed dimensions of the avenues and squares. Desirous of

praising it in some degree, I can say that the design is grand. The thing done, however, falls so infinitely short

of that design, that nothing but disappointment is felt. And I fear that there is no lookout into the future

which can justify a hope that the design will be fulfilled. It is therefore a melancholy place. The society into

which one falls there consists mostly of persons who are not permanently resident in the capital; but of those

who were permanent residents I found none who spoke of their city with affection. The men and women of

Boston think that the sun shines nowhere else; and Boston Common is very pleasant. The New Yorkers

believe in Fifth Avenue with an unswerving faith; and Fifth Avenue is calculated to inspire a faith.

Philadelphia to a Philadelphian is the center of the universe; and the progress of Philadelphia, perhaps,

justifies the partiality. The same thing may be said of Chicago, of Buffalo, and of Baltimore. But the same

thing cannot be said in any degree of Washington. They who belong to it turn up their noses at it. They feel

that they live surrounded by a failure. Its grand names are as yet false, and none of the efforts made have

hitherto been successful. Even in winter, when Congress is sitting, Washington is melancholy; but

There are six principal public buildings in Washington, as to which no expense seems to have been spared,

and in the construction of which a certain amount of success has been obtained. In most of these this success

has been more or less marred by an independent deviation from recognized rules of architectural taste. These

are the Capitol, the Postoffice, the Patentoffice, the Treasury, the President's house, and the Smithsonian

Institution. The five first are Grecian, and the last in Washington is calledRomanesque. Had I been left to

The Capitol is by far the most imposing; and though there is much about it with which I cannot but find fault,

it certainly is imposing. The present building was, I think, commenced in 1815, the former Capitol having

been destroyed by the English in the war of 181213. It was then finished according to the original plan, with

a fine portico and well proportioned pediment above itlooking to the east. The outer flight of steps, leading

up to this from the eastern approach, is good and in excellent taste. The expanse of the building to the right

and left, as then arranged, was well proportioned, and, as far as we can now judge, the then existing dome

was well proportioned also. As seen from the east the original building must have been in itself very fine. The

stone is beautiful, being bright almost as marble, and I do not know that there was any great architectural

defect to offend the eye. The figures in the pediment are mean. There is now in the Capitol a group

apparently prepared for a pediment, which is by no means mean. I was informed that they were intended for

this position; but they, on the other band, are too good for such a place, and are also too numerous. This set of

statues is by Crawford. Most of them are well known, and they are very fine. They now stand within the old

chamber of the Representative House, and the pity is that, if elevated to such a position as that indicated, they

can never be really seen. There are models of them all at West Point, and some of them I have seen at other

places in marble. The Historical Society, at New York, has one or two of them. In and about the front of the

Capitol there are other efforts of sculptureimposing in their size, and assuming, if not affecting, much in

the attitudes chosen. Statuary at Washington runs too much on two subjects, which are repeated perhaps

almost ad nauseam: one is that of a stiff, steadylooking, healthy, but ugly individual, with a square jaw and

big jowl, which represents the great general; he does not prepossess the beholder, because he appears to be

thoroughly ill natured. And the other represents a melancholy, weak figure without any hair, but often

covered with feathers, and is intended to typify the red Indian. The red Indian is generally supposed to be

receiving comfort; but it is manifest that he never enjoys the comfort ministered to him. There is a gigantic

statue of Washington, by Greenough, out in the grounds in front of the building. The figure is seated and

holding up one of its arms toward the city. There is about it a kind of weighty magnificence; but it is stiff,

But the front of the original building is certainly grand. The architect who designed it must have had skill,

taste, and nobility of conception; but even this is spoiled, or rather wasted, by the fact that the front is made to

look upon nothing, and is turned from the city. It is as though, the facade of the London Postoffice had been

made to face the Goldsmiths' Hall. The Capitol stands upon the side of a hill, the front occupying a much

higher position than the back; consequently they who enter it from the backand everybody does so enter

itare first called on to rise to the level of the lower floor by a stiff ascent of exterior steps, which are in no

way grand or imposing, and then, having entered by a mean back door, are instantly obliged to ascend again

by another flightby stairs sufficiently appropriate to a back entrance, but altogether unfitted for the chief

approach to such a building. It may, of course, be said that persons who are particular in such matters should

go in at the front door and not at the back; but one must take these things as one finds them. The entrance by

which the Capitol is approached is such as I have described. There are mean little brick chimneys at the left

hand as one walks in, attached to modern bakeries, which have been constructed in the basement for the use

of the soldiers; and there is on the other hand the road by which wagons find their way to the underground

region with fuel, stationery, and other matters desired by Senators and Representatives, and at present by

In speaking of the front I have spoken of it as it was originally designed and built. Since that period very

heavy wings have been added to the pilewings so heavy that they are or seem to be much larger than the

original structure itself. This, to my thinking, has destroyed the symmetry of the whole. The wings, which in

themselves are by no means devoid of beauty, are joined to the center by passages so narrow that from

exterior points of view the light can be seen through them. This robs the mass of all oneness, of all entirety as

a whole, and gives a scattered, straggling appearance, where there should be a look of massiveness and

integrity. The dome also has been raiseda double drum having been given to it. This is unfinished, and

should not therefore yet be judged; but I cannot think that the increased height will be an improvement. This,

again, to my eyes, appears to be straggling rather than massive. At a distance it commands attention; and to

one journeying through the desert places of the city gives that idea of Palmyra which I have before

Nevertheless, and in spite of all that I have said, I have had pleasure in walking backward and forward, and

through the grounds which lie before the eastern front of the Capitol. The space for the view is ample, and the

thing to be seen has points which are very grand. If the Capitol were finished and all Washington were built

around it, no man would say that the house in which Congress sat disgraced the city.

Going west, but not due west, from the Capitol, Pennsylvania Avenue stretches in a right line to the Treasury

chambers. The distance is beyond a mile; and men say scornfully that the two buildings have been put so far

apart in order to save the secretaries who sit in the bureaus from a too rapid influx of members of Congress.

This statement I by no means indorse; but it is undoubtedly the fact that both Senators and Representatives

are very diligent in their calls upon gentlemen high in office. I have been present on some such occasions,

and it has always seemed to me a that questions of patronage have been paramount. This reach of

Pennsylvania Avenue is the quarter for the best shops of Washingtonthat is to say, the frequented side of it

is so, that side which is on your right as you leave the Capitol. Of the other side the world knows nothing.

And very bad shops they are. I doubt whether there be any town in the world at all equal in importance to

Washington which is in such respects so ill provided. The shops are bad and dear. In saying this I am guided

by the opinions of all whom I heard speak on the subject. The same thing was told me of the hotels. Hearing

that the city was very full at the time of my visitfull to overflowing I had obtained private rooms,

through a friend, before I went there. Had I not done so, I might have lain in the streets, or have made one

with three or four others in a small room at some third rate inn. There had never been so great a throng in

the town. I am bound to say that my friend did well for me. I found myself put up at the house of one

Wormley, a colored man, in I Street, to whose attention I can recommend any Englishman who may chance

to want quarters in Washington. He has a hotel on one side of the street and private lodginghouses on the

other, in which I found myself located. From what I heard of the hotels, I conceived myself to be greatly in

luck. Willard's is the chief of these; and the everlasting crowd and throng of men with which the halls and

passages of the house were always full certainly did not seem to promise either privacy or comfort. But then

there are places in which privacy and comfort are not expectedare hardly even desired and Washington

The Postoffice and the Patentoffice, lie a little away from Pennsylvania Avenue in I Street, and are

opposite to each other. The Postoffice is certainly a very graceful building. It is square, and hardly can be

said to have any settled front or any grand entrance. It is not approached by steps, but stands flush on the

ground, alike on each of the four sides. It is ornamented with Corinthian pilasters, but is not

overornamented. It is certainly a structure creditable to any city. The streets around it are all unfinished; and

it is approached through seas of mud and sloughs of despond, which have been contrived, as I imagine, to

lessen, if possible, the crowd of callers, and lighten in this way the overtasked officials within. That side by

which the public in general were supposed to approach was, during my sojourn, always guarded by vast

mountains of flour barrels. Looking up at the windows of the building, I perceived also that barrels were piled

within, and then I knew that the Postoffice had become a provision depot for the army. The official

arrangements here for the public were so bad as to be absolutely barbarous. I feel some remorse in saying

this, for I was myself treated with the utmost courtesy by gentlemen holding high positions in the office, to

which I was specially attracted by my own connection with the postoffice in England. But I do not think that

such courtesy should hinder me from telling what I saw that was bad, seeing that it would not hinder me from

telling what I saw that was good. In Washington there is but one postoffice. There are no iron pillars or

wayside letterboxes, as are to be found in other towns of the Unionno subsidiary offices at which stamps

can be bought and letters posted. The distances of the city are very great, the means of transit through the city

very limited, the dirt of the city ways unrivaled in depth and tenacity, and yet there is but one postoffice.

Nor is there any established system of lettercarriers. To those who desire it letters are brought out and

delivered by carriers, who charge a separate porterage for that service; but the rule is that letters should be

delivered from the window. For strangers this is of course a necessity of their position; and I found that, when

once I had left instruction that my letters should be delivered, those instructions, were carefully followed.

Indeed, nothing could exceed the civility of the officials within; but so also nothing can exceed the barbarity

of the arrangements without. The purchase of stamps I found to be utterly impracticable. They were sold at a

window in a corner, at which newspapers were also delivered, to which there was no regular ingress and from

which there was no egress, it would generally be deeply surrounded by a crowd of muddy soldiers, who

would wait there patiently till time should enable them to approach the window. The delivery of letters was

almost more tedious, though in that there was a method. The aspirants stood in a long line, en cue, as we are

told by Carlyle that the breadseekers used to approach the bakers' shops at Paris during the Revolution. This

"cue" would sometimes project out into the street. The work inside was done very slowly. The clerk had no

facility, by use of a desk or otherwise, for running through the letters under the initials denominated, but

turned letter by letter through his hand. To one questioner out of ten would a letter be given. It no doubt may

be said in excuse for this that the presence of the army round Washington caused, at that period, special

inconvenience; and that plea should of course be taken, were it not that a very trifling alteration in the

management within would have remedied all the inconvenience. As a building, the Washington Postoffice is

very good; as the center of a most complicated and difficult department, I believe it to be well managed; but

as regards the special accommodation given by it to the city in which it stands, much cannot, I think, be said

Opposite to that which is, I presume, the back of the Postoffice, stands the Patentoffice. This also is a

grand building, with a fine portico of Doric pillars at each of its three fronts. These are approached by flights

of steps, more gratifying to the eye than to the legs. The whole structure is massive and grand, and, if the

streets round it were finished, would be imposing. The utilitarian spirit of the nation has, however, done

much toward marring the appearance of the building, by piercing it with windows altogether unsuited to it,

both in number and size. The walls, even under the porticoes, have been so pierced, in order that the whole

space might be utilized without loss of light; and the effect is very mean. The windows are small, and without

ornamentsomething like a London window of the time of George III. The effect produced by a dozen such

at the back of a noble Doric porch, looking down among the pillars, may be imagined.

In the interior of this building the Minister of the Interior holds his court, and, of course, also the

Commissioners of Patents. Here is, in accordance with the name of the building, a museum of models of all

patents taken out. I wandered through it, gazing with listless eye now upon this and now upon that; but to me,

in my ignorance, it was no better than a large toyshop. When I saw an ancient, dusty white hat, with some

peculiar appendage to it which was unintelligible, it was no more to me than any other old white hat. But had

I been a man of science, what a tale it might have told! Wandering about through the Patentoffice I also

found a hospital for soldiers. A British officer was with me who pronounced it to be, in its kind, very good.

At any rate it was sweet, airy, and large. In these days the soldiers had got hold of everything.

The Treasury chambers is as yet an unfinished building. The front to the south has been completed, but that to

the north has not been built. Here at the north stands as yet the old Secretary of State's office. This is to come

down, and the Secretary of State is to be located in the new building, which will be added to the Treasury.

This edifice will probably strike strangers more forcibly than any other in the town, both from its position and

from its own character. It Stands with its side to Pennsylvania Avenue, but the avenue here, has turned round,

and runs due north and south, having taken a twist, so as to make way for the Treasury and for the President's

house, through both of which it must run had it been carried straight on throughout. These public offices

stand with their side to the street, and the whole length is ornamented with an exterior row of Ionic columns

raised high above the footway. This is perhaps the prettiest thing in the city, and when the front to the north

has been completed, the effect will be still better. The granite monoliths which have been used, and which are

to be used, in this building are very massive. As one enters by the steps to the south there are two flat stones,

one on each side of the ascent, the surface of each of which is about twenty feet by eighteen. The columns

are, I think, all monoliths. Of those which are still to be erected, and which now lie about in the neighboring

streets, I measured one or twoone which was still in the rough I found to be thirtytwo feet long by five

feet broad, and four and a half deep. These granite blocks have been brought to Washington from the State of

Maine. The finished front of this building, looking down to the Potomac, is very good; but to my eyes this

also has been much injured by the rows of windows which look out from the building into the space of the

The President's houseor the White House as it is now called all the world overis a handsome mansion

fitted for the chief officer of a great republic, and nothing more. I think I may say that we have private houses

in London considerably larger. It is neat and pretty, and with all its immediate outside belongings calls down

no adverse criticism. It faces on to a small garden, which seems to be always accessible to the public, and

opens out upon that everlasting Pennsylvania Avenue, which has now made another turn. Here in front of the

White House is President's Square, as it is generally called. The technical name is, I believe, La Fayette

Square. The houses round it are few in numbernot exceeding three or four on each side, but they are

among the best in Washington, and the whole place is neat and well kept. President's Square is certainly the

most attractive part of the city. The garden of the square is always open, and does not seem to suffer from any

public ill usage; by which circumstance I am again led to suggest that the gardens of our London squares

might be thrown open in the same way. In the center of this one at Washington, immediately facing the

President's house, is an equestrian statue of General Jackson. It is very bad; but that it is not nearly as bad as

it might be is proved by another equestrian statueof General Washingtonerected in the center of a small

garden plat at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue, near the bridge leading to Georgetown. Of all the statues on

horseback which I ever saw, either in marble or bronze, this is by far the worst and most ridiculous. The horse

is most absurd, but the man sitting on the horse is manifestly drunk. I should think the time must come when

I did not go inside the President's house, not having had while at Washington an opportunity of paying my

personal respects to Mr. Lincoln. I had been told that this was to be done without trouble, but when I inquired

on the subject I found that this was not exactly the case. I believe there are times when anybody may walk

into the President's house without an introduction; but that, I take it, is not considered to be the proper way of

doing the work. I found that something like a favor would be incurred, or that some disagreeable trouble

would be given, if I made a request to be presented, and therefore I left Washington without seeing the great

The President's house is nice to look at, but it is built on marshy ground, not much above the level of the

Potomac, and is very unhealthy. I was told that all who live there become subject to fever and ague, and that

few who now live there have escaped it altogether. This comes of choosing the site of a new city, and

decreeing that it shall be built on this or on that spot. Large cities, especially in these latter days, do not

collect themselves in unhealthy places. Men desert such localitiesor at least do not congregate at them

when their character is once known. But the poor President cannot desert the White House. He must make the

Of the other considerable public building of Washington, called the Smithsonian Institution, I have said that

its style was bastard Gothic; by this I mean that its main attributes are Gothic, but that liberties have been

taken with it, which, whether they may injure its beauty or no, certainly are subversive of architectural purity.

It is built of red stone, and is not ugly in itself. There is a very nice Norman porch to it, and little bits of

Lombard Gothic have been well copied from Cologne. But windows have been fitted in with stilted arches, of

which the stilts seem to crack and bend, so narrow are they and so high. And then the towers with high

pinnacled roofs are a mistakeunless indeed they be needed to give to the whole structure that name of

Romanesque which it has assumed. The building is used for museums and lectures, and was given to the city

by one James Smithsonian, an Englishman. I cannot say that the City of Washington seems to be grateful, for

all to whom I spoke on the subject hinted that the Institution was a failure. It is to be remarked that nobody in

Washington is proud of Washington, or of anything in it. If the Smithsonian Institution were at New York or

There has been an attempt made to raise at Washington a vast obelisk to the memory of Washingtonthe

first in war and first in peace, as the country is proud to call him. This obelisk is a fair type of the city. It is

unfinishednot a third of it having as yet been erectedand in all human probability ever will remain so. If

finished, it would be the highest monument of its kind standing on the face of the globe; and yet, after all,

what would it be even then as compared with one of the great pyramids? Modern attempts cannot bear

comparison with those of the old world in simple vastness. But in lieu of simple vastness, the modern world

aims to achieve either beauty or utility. By the Washington monument, if completed, neither would be

achieved. An obelisk with the proportions of a needle may be very graceful; but an obelisk which requires an

expanse of flatroofed, sprawling buildings for its base, and of which the shaft shall be as big as a cathedral

tower, cannot be graceful. At present some third portion of the shaft has been built, and there it stands. No

one has a word to say for it. No one thinks that money will ever again be subscribed for its completion. I saw

somewhere a box of plateglass kept for contributions for this purpose, and looking in perceived that two

halfdollar pieces had been givenbut both of them were bad. I was told also that the absolute foundation of

the edifice is badthat the ground, which is near the river and swampy, would not bear the weight intended

A sad and saddening spot was that marsh, as I wandered down on it all alone one Sunday afternoon. The

ground was frozen and I could walk dryshod, but there was not a blade of grass. Around me on all sides

were cattle in great numberssteers and big oxenlowing in their hunger for a meal. They were beef for

the army, and never again, I suppose, would it be allowed to them to fill their big maws and chew the patient

cud. There, on the brown, ugly, undrained field, within easy sight of the President's house, stood the useless,

shapeless, graceless pile of stones. It was as though I were looking on the genius of the city. It was vast,

pretentious, bold, boastful with a loud voice, already taller by many heads than other obelisks, but

nevertheless still in its infancyugly, unpromising, and false. The founder of the monument had said, Here

shall be the obelisk of the world! and the founder of the city had thought of his child somewhat in the same

strain. It is still possible that both city and monument shall be completed; but at the present moment nobody

seems to believe in the one or in the other. For myself, I have much faith in the American character, but I

cannot believe either in Washington City or in the Washington Monument. The boast made has been too

Have I as yet said that Washington was dirty in that winter of 1861 62? Or, I should rather ask, have I made

it understood that in walking about Washington one waded as deep in mud as one does in floundering

through an ordinary plowed field in November? There were parts of Pennsylvania Avenue which would have

been considered heavy ground by most huntingmen, and through some of the remoter streets none but light

weights could have lived long. This was the state of the town when I left it in the middle of January. On my

arrival in the middle of December, everything was in a cloud of dust. One walked through an atmosphere of

floating mud; for the dirt was ponderous and thick, and very palpable in its atoms. Then came a severe frost

and a little snow; and if one did not fall while walking, it was very well. After that we had the thaw; and

Washington assumed its normal winter condition. I must say that, during the whole of this time, the

atmosphere was to me exhilarating; but I was hardly out of the doctor's hands while I was there, and he did

not support my theory as to the goodness of the air. "It is poisoned by the soldiers," he said, "and everybody

is ill." But then my doctor was, perhaps, a little tinged with Southern proclivities.

On the Virginian side of the Potomac stands a countryhouse called Arlington Heights, from which there is a

fine view down upon the city. Arlington Heights is a beautiful spothaving all the attractions of a fine park

in our country. It is covered with grand timber. The ground is varied and broken, and the private roads about

sweep here into a dell and then up a brae side, as roads should do in such a domain. Below it was the

Potomac, and immediately on the other side stands the City of Washington. Any city seen thus is graceful;

and the white stones of the big buildings, when the sun gleams on them, showing the distant rows of columns,

seem to tell something of great endeavor and of achieved success. It is the place from whence Washington

should be seen by those who wish to think well of the present city and of its future prosperity. But is it not the

The house at Arlington Heights is picturesque, but neither large nor good. It has before it a high Greek

colonnade, which seems to be almost bigger than the house itself. Had such been built in a city and many

such a portico does stand in cities through the Statesit would be neither picturesque nor graceful; but here

it is surrounded by timber, and as the columns are seen through the trees, they gratify the eye rather than

offend it. The place did belong, and as I think does still belong, to the family of the Leesif not already

confiscated. General Lee, who is or would be the present owner, bears high command in the army of the

Confederates, and knows well by what tenure he holds or is likely to hold his family property. The family

were friends of General Washington, whose seat, Mount Vernon, stands about twelve miles lower down the

river and here, no doubt, Washington often stood, looking on the site he had chosen. If his spirit could stand

there now and look around upon the masses of soldiers by which his capital is surrounded, how would it

address the city of his hopes? When he saw that every foot of the neighboring soil was desecrated by a camp,

or torn into loathsome furrows of mud by cannon and army wagonsthat agriculture was gone, and that

every effort both of North and South was concentrated on the art of killing; when he saw that this was done

on the very spot chosen by himself for the center temple of an everlasting union, what would he then say as to

that boast made on his behalf by his countrymen, that he was first in war and first in peace? Washington was

a great man, and I believe a good man. I, at any rate, will not belittle him. I think that he had the firmness and

audacity necessary for a revolutionary leader, that he had honesty to preserve him from the temptations of

ambition and ostentation, and that he had the good sense to be guided in civil matters by men who had

studied the laws of social life and the theories of free government. He was justus et tenax propositi; and in

periods that might well have dismayed a smaller man, he feared neither the throne to which he opposed

himself nor the changing voices of the fellow citizens for whose welfare he had fought. But sixty or seventy

years will not suffice to give to a man the fame of having been first among all men. Washington did much,

and I for one do not believe that his work will perish. But I have always found it difficultI may say

impossibleto sound his praises in his own land. Let us suppose that a courteous Frenchman ventures an

opinion among Englishmen that Wellington was a great general, would he feel disposed to go on with his

eulogium when encountered on two or three sides at once with such observations as the following: "I should

rather calculate he was; about the first that ever did live or ever will live. Why, he whipped your Napoleon

everlasting whenever he met him. He whipped everybody out of the field. There warn't anybody ever lived

was able to stand nigh him, and there won't come any like him again. Sir, I guess our Wellington never had

his likes on your side of the water. Such men can't grow in a downtrodden country of slaves and paupers."

Under such circumstances the Frenchman would probably be shut up. And when I strove to speak of

Arlington Heights, when I was at Washington, was the headquarters of General McDowell, the general to

whom is attributedI believe most wrongfullythe loss of the battle of Bull's Run. The whole place was

then one camp. The fences had disappeared. The gardens were trodden into mud. The roads had been cut to

pieces, and new tracks made everywhere through the grounds. But the timber still remained. Some no doubt

had fallen, but enough stood for the ample ornamentation of the place. I saw placards up, prohibiting the

destruction of the trees, and it is to be hoped that they have been spared. Very little in this way has been

Mount Vernon, Washington's own residence, stands close over the Potomac, about six miles below

Alexandria. It will be understood that the capital is on the eastern, or Maryland side of the river, and that

Arlington Heights, Alexandria, and Mount Vernon are in Virginia. The River Potomac divided the two old

colonies, or States as they afterward became; but when Washington was to be built, a territory, said to be ten

miles square, was cut out of the two States and was called the District of Columbia. The greater portion of

this district was taken from Maryland, and on that the city was built. It comprised the pleasant town of

Georgetown, which is now a suburband the only suburbof Washington. The portion of the district on

the Virginian side included Arlington heights, and went so far down the river as to take in the Virginian City

of Alexandria. This was the extreme western point of the district; but since that arrangement was made, the

State of Virginia petitioned to have their portion of Columbia back again, and this petition was granted. Now

it is felt that the land on both sides of the river should belong to the city, and the government is anxious to get

back the Virginian section. The city and the immediate vicinity are freed from all State allegiance, and are

under the immediate rule of the United States governmenthaving of course its own municipality; but the

inhabitants have no political power, as power is counted in the States. They vote for no political officer, not

even for the President, and return no member to Congress, either as a senator or as a Representative. Mount

When I first made inquiry on the subject, I was told that Mount Vernon at that time was not to be reached;

that though it was not in the hands of the rebels, neither was it in the hands of Northerners, and that therefore

strangers could not go there; but this, though it was told to me and others by those who should have known

the facts, was not the case. I had gone down the river with a party of ladies, and we were opposite to Mount

Vernon; but on that occasion we were assured we could not land. The rebels, we were told, would certainly

seize the ladies, and carry them off into Secessia. On hearing which, the ladies were of course doubly anxious

to be landed. But our stern commander, for we were on a government boat, would not listen to their prayers,

but carried us instead on board the "Pensacola," a sloopofwar which was now lying in the river, ready to

go to sea, and ready also to run the gantlet of the rebel batteries which lined the Virginian shore of the river

for many miles down below Alexandria and Mount Vernon. A sloopofwar in these days means a large

manofwar, the guns of which are so big that they only stand on one deck, whereas a frigate would have

them on two decks, and a lineofbattle ship on three. Of lineofbattle ships there will, I suppose, soon be

none, as the "Warrior" is only a frigate. We went over the "Pensacola," and I must say she was very nice,

pretty, and clean. I have always found American sailors on their menofwar to be clean and nice

lookingas much so I should say as our own; but nothing can be dirtier, more untidy, or apparently more ill

We landed also on this occasion at Alexandria, and saw as melancholy and miserable a town as the mind of

man can conceive. Its ordinary male population, counting by the voters, is 1500, and of these 700 were in the

Southern army. The place had been made a hospital for Northern soldiers, and no doubt the site for that

purpose had been well chosen. But let any woman imagine what would be the feelings of her life while living

in a town used as a hospital for the enemies against whom her absent husband was then fighting. Her own

man would be awayill, wounded, dying, for what she knew, without the comfort of any hospital

attendance, without physic, with no one to comfort him; but those she hated with a hatred much keener than

his were close to her hand, using some friend's house that had been forcibly taken, crawling out into the sun

under her eyes, taking the bread from her mouth! Life in Alexandria at this time must have been sad enough.

The people were all secessionists, but the town was held by the Northern party. Through the lines, into

Virginia, they could not go at all. Up to Washington they could not go without a military pass, not to be

obtained without some cause given. All trade was at an end. In no town at that time was trade very

flourishing; but here it was killed altogetherexcept that absolutely necessary trade of bread. Who would

buy boots or coats, or want new saddles, or waste money on books, in such days as these, in such a town as

Alexandria? And then out of 1500 men, onehalf had gone to fight the Southern battles! Among the women

It was here that a hotbrained young man, named Ellsworth, was killed in the early days of the rebellion. He

was a colonel in the Northern volunteer army, and on entering Alexandria found a secession flag flying at the

chief hotel. Instead of sending up a corporal's guard to remove it, he rushed up and pulled it down with his

own hand. As he descended, the landlord shot him dead, and one of his soldier's shot the landlord dead. It was

a pity that so brave a lad, who had risen so high, should fall so vainly; but they have made a hero of him in

America; have inscribed his name on marble monuments, and counted him up among their great men. In all

this their mistake is very great. It is bad for a country to have no names worthy of monumental brass; but it is

worse for a country to have monumental brasses covered with names which have never been made worthy of

such honor. Ellsworth had shown himself to be brave and foolish. Let his folly be pardoned on the score of

I found afterward that Mount Vernon was accessible, and I rode thither with some officers of the staff of

General Heintzelman, whose outside pickets were stationed beyond the old place. I certainly should not have

been well pleased had I been forced to leave the country without seeing the house in which Washington had

lived and died. Till lately this place was owned and inhabited by one of the family, a Washington, descended

from a brother of the general's; but it has now become the property of the country, under the auspices of Mr.

Everett, by whose exertions was raised the money with which it was purchased. It is a long house, of two

stories, built, I think, chiefly of wood, with a veranda, or rather long portico, attached to the front, which

looks upon the river. There are two wings, or sets of outhouses, containing the kitchen and servants' rooms,

which were joined by open wooden verandas to the main building; but one of these verandas has gone, under

the influence of years. By these a semicircular sweep is formed before the front door, which opens away from

the river, and toward the old prim gardens, in which, we were told, General Washington used to take much

delight. There is nothing very special about the house. Indeed, as a house, it would now be found comfortless

and inconvenient. But the ground falls well down to the river, and the timber, if not fine, is plentiful and

picturesque. The chief interest of the place, however, is in the tomb of Washington and his wife. It must be

understood that it was a common practice throughout the States to make a family buryingground in any

secluded spot on the family property. I have not unfrequently come across these in my rambles, and in

Virginia I have encountered small, unpretending gravestones under a shady elm, dated as lately as eight or ten

years back. At Mount Vernon there is now a cemetery of the Washington family; and there, in an open

vaulta vault open, but guarded by iron gratingis the great man's tomb, and by his side the tomb of

Martha his wife. As I stood there alone, with no one by to irritate me by assertions of the man's absolute

supremacy, I acknowledged that I had come to the final restingplace of a great and good man,of a man

whose patriotism was, I believe, an honest feeling, untinged by any personal ambition of a selfish nature.

That he was preeminently a successful man may have been due chiefly to the excellence of his cause, and

the blood and character of the people who put him forward as their right arm in their contest; but that he did

not mar that success by arrogance, or destroy the brightness of his own name by personal aggrandizement, is

Considering the circumstances and history of the place, the position of Mount Vernon, as I saw it, was very

remarkable. It lay exactly between the lines of the two armies. The pickets of the Northern army had been

extended beyond it, not improbably with the express intention of keeping a spot so hallowed within the power

of the Northern government. But since the war began it had been in the hands of the seceders. In fact, it stood

there in the middle of the battlefield, on the very line of division between loyalism and secession. And this

was the spot which Washington had selected as the heart and center, and safest rallying homestead of the

united nation which he left behind him. But Washington, when he resolved to found his capital on the banks

of the Potomac, knew nothing of the glories of the Mississippi. He did not dream of the speedy addition to his

already gathered constellations of those Western starsof Wisconsin, Illinois, Minnesota, and Iowa; nor did

he dream of Texas conquered, Louisiana purchased, and Missouri and Kansas rescued from the wilderness.

I have said that Washington was at that timethe Christmas of 1861 62a melancholy place. This was

partly owing to the despondent tone in which so many Americans then spoke of their own affairs. It was not

that the Northern men thought that they were to be beaten, or that the Southern men feared that things were

going bad with their party across the river; but that nobody seemed to have any faith in anybody. McClellan

had been put up as the true man exalted perhaps too quickly, considering the limited opportunities for

distinguishing himself which fortune had thrown in his way; but now belief in McClellan seemed to be

slipping away. One felt that it was so from day to day, though it was impossible to define how or whence the

feeling came. And then the character of the ministry fared still worse in public estimation. That Lincoln, the

President, was honest, and that Chase, the Secretary of the Treasury, was able, was the only good that one

heard spoken. At this time two Jonahs were specially pointed out as necessary sacrifices, by whose

immersion into the comfortless ocean of private life the ship might perhaps be saved. These were Mr.

Cameron, the Secretary of War, and Mr. Welles, the Secretary of the Navy. It was said that Lincoln, when

pressed to rid his cabinet of Cameron, had replied, that when a man was crossing a stream the moment was

hardly convenient for changing his horse; but it came to that at last, that he found he must change his horse,

even in the very sharpest run of the river. Better that than sit an animal on whose exertions he knew that he

could not trust. So Mr. Cameron went, and Mr. Stanton became Secretary of War in his place. But Mr.

Cameron, though put out of the cabinet, was to be saved from absolute disgrace by being sent as Minister to

Russia. I do not know that it would become me here to repeat the accusations made against Mr. Cameron, but

it had long seemed to me that the maintenance in such a position, at such a time, of a gentleman who had to

sustain such a universal absence of public confidence, must have been most detrimental to the army and to

Men whom one met in Washington were not unhappy about the state of things, as I had seen men unhappy in

the North and in the West. They were mainly indifferent, but with that sort of indifference which arises from

a break down of faith in anything. "There was the army! Yes, the army! But what an army! Nobody obeyed

anybody. Nobody did anything! Nobody thought of advancing! There were, perhaps, two hundred thousand

men assembled round Washington; and now the effort of supplying them with food and clothing was as much

as could be accomplished! But the contractors, in the mean time, were becoming rich. And then as to the

government! Who trusted it? Who would put their faith in Seward and Cameron? Cameron was now gone, it

was true; and in that way the whole of the cabinet would soon be broken up. As to Congress, what could

Congress do? Ask questions which no one would care to answer, and finally get itself packed up and sent

home." The President and the Constitution fared no better in men's mouths. The former did nothingneither

harm nor good; and as for the latter, it had broken down and shown itself to be inefficient. So men ate, and

drank, and laughed, waiting till chaos should come, secure in the belief that the atoms into which their world

would resolve itself would connect themselves again in some other form without trouble on their part.

And at Washington I found no strong feeling against England and English conduct toward America. "We

men of the world," a Washington man might have said, "know very well that everybody must take care of

himself first. We are very good friends with youof course, and are very glad to see you at our table

whenever you come across the water; but as for rejoicing at your joys, or expecting you to sympathize with

our sorrows, we know the world too well for that. We are splitting into pieces, and of course that is gain to

you. Take another cigar." This polite, fashionable, and certainly comfortable way of looking at the matter had

never been attained at New York or Philadelphia, at Boston or Chicago. The Northern provincial world of the

States had declared to itself that those who were not with it were against it; that its neighbors should be either

friends or foes; that it would understand nothing of neutrality. This was often mortifying to me, but I think I

Everybody acknowledged that society in Washington had been almost destroyed by the loss of the Southern

half of the usual sojourners in the city. The Senators and members of government, who heretofore had come

front the Southern States, had no doubt spent more money in the capital than their Northern brethren. They

and their families had been more addicted to social pleasures. They are the descendants of the old English

Cavaliers, whereas the Northern men have come from the old English Roundheads. Or if, as may be the case,

the blood of the races has now been too well mixed to allow of this being said with absolute truth, yet

something of the manners of the old forefathers has been left. The Southern gentleman is more genial, less

dryI will not say more hospitable, but more given to enjoy hospitality than his Northern brother; and this

difference is quite as strong with the women as with the men. It may therefore be understood that secession

would be very fatal to the society of Washington. It was not only that the members of Congress were not

there. As to very many of the Representatives, it may be said that they do not belong sufficiently to

Washington to make a part of its society. It is not every Representative that is, perhaps, qualified to do so.

But secession had taken away from Washington those who held property in the Southwho were bound to

the South by any ties, whether political or other; who belonged to the South by blood, education, and old

habits. In very many casesnay, in most such casesit had been necessary that a man should select

whether he would be a friend to the South, and therefore a rebel; or else an enemy to the South, and therefore

untrue to all the predilections and sympathies of his life. Here has been the hardship. For such people there

has been no neutrality possible. Ladies even have not been able to profess themselves simply anxious for

peace and good will, and so to remain tranquil. They who are not for me are against me, has been spoken by

one side and by the other. And I suppose that in all civil war it is necessary that it should be so. I heard of

various cases in which father and son had espoused different sides in order that property might be retained

both in the North and in the South. Under such circumstances it may be supposed that society in Washington

In the interior of the Capitol much space is at present wasted, but this arises from the fact of great additions to

the original plan having been made. The two chambersthat of the Senate and the Representativesare in

the two new wings, on the middle or what we call the first floor. The entrance is made under a dome to a

large circular hall, which is hung around with surely the worst pictures by which a nation ever sought to

glorify its own deeds. There are yards of paintings at Versailles which are bad enough; but there is nothing at

Versailles comparable in villany to the huge daubs which are preserved in this hall at the Capitol. It is strange

that even selflaudatory patriotism should desire the perpetuation of such rubbish. When I was there the new

dome was still in progress; and an ugly column of woodwork, required for internal support and affording a

staircase to the top, stood in this hall. This of course was a temporary and necessary evil; but even this was

From the hall, turning to the left, if the entrance be made at the front door, one goes to the new Chamber of

Representatives, passing through that which was the old chamber. This is now dedicated to the exposition of

various new figures by Crawford, and to the sale of tarts and gingerbreadof very bad tarts and gingerbread.

Let that old woman look to it, or let the house dismiss her. In fact, this chamber is now but a vestibule to a

passagea second hall, as it were, and thus thrown away. Changes probably will be made which will bring it

into some use or some scheme of ornamentation. From this a passage runs to the Representative Chamber,

passing between those telltale windows, which, looking to the right and left, proclaim the tenuity of the

building. The windows on one sidethat looking to the east or frontshould, I think, be closed. The

The Representative Chamber itselfwhich of course answers to our House of Commonsis a handsome,

commodious room, admirably fitted for the purposes required. It strikes one as rather low; but I doubt, if it

were higher, whether it would be better adapted for hearing. Even at present it is not perfect in this respect as

regards the listeners in the gallery. It is a handsome, long chamber, lighted by skylights from the roof, and is

amply large enough for the number to be accommodated. The Speaker sits opposite to the chief entrance, his

desk being fixed against the opposite wall. He is thus brought nearer to the body of the men before him than

is the case with our Speaker. He sits at a marble table, and the clerks below him are also accommodated with

marble. Every representative has his own armchair, and his own desk before it. This may be done for a

house consisting of about two hundred and forty members, but could hardly be contrived with us. These

desks are arranged in a semicircular form, or in a broad horseshoe, and every member as he sits faces the

Speaker. A score or so of little boys are always running about the floor ministering to the members'

wishescarrying up petitions to the chair, bringing water to long winded legislators, delivering and

carrying out letters, and running with general messages. They do not seem to interrupt the course of business,

and yet they are the liveliest little boys I ever saw. When a member claps his hands, indicating a desire for

attendance, three or four will jockey for the honor. On the whole, I thought the little boys had a good time of

But not so the Speaker. It seemed to me that the amount of work falling upon the Speaker's shoulders was

cruelly heavy. His voice was always ringing in my ears exactly as does the voice of the croupier at a

gamblingtable, who goes on declaring and explaining the results of the game, and who generally does so in

sharp, loud, ringing tones, from which all interest in the proceeding itself seems to be excluded. It was just so

with the Speaker in the House of Representatives. The debate was always full of interruptions; but on every

interruption the Speaker asked the gentleman interrupted whether he would consent to be so treated. "The

gentleman from Indiana has the floor." "The gentleman from Ohio wishes to ask the gentleman from Indiana

a question." "The gentleman from Indiana gives permission." "The gentleman from Ohio!"these last words

being a summons to him of Ohio to get up and ask his question. "The gentleman from Pennsylvania rises to

order." "The gentleman from Pennsylvania is in order." And then the House seems always to be voting, and

the Speaker is always putting the question. "The gentlemen who agree to the amendment will say Aye." Not a

sound is heard. "The gentlemen who oppose the amendment will say No." Again not a sound. "The Ayes

have it," says the Speaker, and then he goes on again. All this he does with amazing rapidity, and is always at

it with the same hard, quick, ringing, uninterested voice. The gentleman whom I saw in the chair was very

clever, and quite up to the task. But as for dignity! Perhaps it might be found that any great accession of

dignity would impede the celerity of the work to be done, and that a closer copy of the British model might

When any matter of real interest occasioned a vote, the ayes and noes would be given aloud; and then, if there

were a doubt arising from the volume of sound, the Speaker would declare that the "ayes" or the "noes"

would seem to have it! And upon this a poll would be demanded. In such cases the Speaker calls on two

members, who come forth and stand fronting each other before the chair, making a gangway. Through this

the ayes walk like sheep, the tellers giving them an accelerating poke when they fail to go on with rapidity.

Thus they are counted, and the noes are counted in the same way. It seemed to me that it would be very

possible in a dishonest legislator to vote twice on any subject of great interest; but it may perhaps be the case

According to a list which I obtained, the present number of members is 173, and there are 63 vacancies

occasioned by secession. New York returns 33 members; Pennsylvania, 25; Ohio, 21; Virginia, 13;

Massachusetts and Indiana, 11; Tennessee and Kentucky, 10; South Carolina, 6; and so on, till Delaware,

Kansas, and Florida return only 1 each. When the Constitution was framed, Pennsylvania returned 8, and

New York only 6; whereas Virginia returned 10, and South Carolina 5, From which may be gathered the

relative rate of increase in population of the freesoil States and the slave States. All these States return two

Senators each to the other HouseKansas sending as many as New York. The work in the House begins at

twelve noon, and is not often carried on late into the evening. Indeed, this, I think, is never done till toward

The Senate house is in the opposite wing of the building, the position of the one house answering exactly to

that of the other. It is somewhat smaller, but is, as a matter of course, much less crowded. There are 34 States,

and, therefore, 68 seats and 68 desks only are required. These also are arranged in a horseshoe form, and face

the President; but there was a sad array of empty chairs when I was in Washington, nineteen or twenty seats

being vacant in consequence of secession. In this house the VicePresident of the United States acts as

President, but has by no means so hard a job of work as his brother on the other side of the way. Mr.

Hannibal Hamlin, from Maine, now fills this chair. I was driven, while in Washington, to observe something

amounting almost to a peculiarity in the Christian names of the gentlemen who were then administrating the

government of the country. Mr. Abraham Lincoln was the President; Mr. Hannibal Hamlin, the

VicePresident; Mr. Galusha Grow, the Speaker of the House of Representatives; Mr. Salmon Chase, the

Secretary of the Treasury; Mr. Caleb Smith, the Attorney General; Mr. Simon Cameron, the Secretary of

In the Senate House, as in the other house, there are very commodious galleries for strangers, running round

the entire chambers, and these galleries are open to all the world. As with all such places in the States, a large

portion of them is appropriated to ladies. But I came at last to find that the word lady signified a female or a

decently dressed man. Any arrangement for classes is in America impossible; the seats intended for

gentlemen must, as a matter of course, be open to all men; but by giving up to the rougher sex half the

amount of accommodation nominally devoted to ladies, the desirable division is to a certain extent made. I

generally found that I could obtain admittance to the ladies' gallery if my coat were decent and I had gloves

All the adjuncts of both these chambers are rich and in good keeping. The staircases are of marble, and the

outside passages and lobbies are noble in size and in every way convenient. One knows well the trouble of

getting into the House of Lords and House of Commons, and the want of comfort which attends one there;

and an Englishman cannot fail to make comparisons injurious to his own country. It would not, perhaps, be

possible to welcome all the world in London as is done in Washington, but there can be no good reason why

the space given to the public with us should not equal that given in Washington. But, so far are we from

sheltering the public, that we have made our House of Commons so small that it will not even hold all its own

I had an opportunity of being present at one of their field days in the senate, Slidell and Mason had just then

been sent from Fort Warren across to England in the Rinaldo. And here I may as well say what further there

is for me to say about those two heroes. I was in Boston when they were taken, and all Boston was then full

of them. I was at Washington when they were surrendered, and at Washington for a time their names were the

only household words in vogue. To me it had from the first been a matter of certainty that England would

demand the restitution of the men. I had never attempted to argue the matter on the legal points, but I felt, as

though by instinct, that it would be so. First of all there reached us, by telegram from Cape Race, rumors of

what the press in England was saying; rumors of a meeting in Liverpool, and rumors of the feeling in

London. And then the papers followed, and we got our private letters. It was some days before we knew what

was actually the demand made by Lord Palmerston's cabinet; and during this time, through the five or six

days which were thus passed, it was clear to be seen that the American feeling was undergoing a great

changeor if not the feeling, at any rate the purpose. Men now talked of surrendering these Commissioners,

as though it were a line of conduct which Mr. Seward might find convenient; and then men went further, and

said that Mr. Seward would find any other line of conduct very inconvenient. The newspapers, one after

another, came round. That, under all these circumstances, the States government behaved well in the matter,

no one, I think, can deny; but the newspapers, taken as a whole, were not very consistent, and, I think, not

very dignified. They had declared with throats of brass that these men should never be surrendered to

perfidious Albion; but when it came to be understood that in all probability they would be so surrendered,

they veered round without an excuse, and spoke of their surrender as of a thing of course. And thus, in the

course of about a week, the whole current of men's minds was turned. For myself, on my first arrival at

Washington, I felt certain that there would be war, and was preparing myself for a quick return to England;

but from the moment that the first whisper of England's message reached us, and that I began to hear how it

was received and what men said about it, I knew that I need not hurry myself. One met a minister here, and a

Senator there, and anon some wise diplomatic functionary. By none of these grave men would any secret be

divulged; none of them had any secret ready for divulging. But it was to be read in every look of the eye, in

every touch of the hand, and in every fall of the foot of each of them, that Mason and Slidell would go to

Then we had, in all the fullness of diplomatic language, Lord Russell's demand, and Mr. Seward's answer.

Lord Russell's demand was worded in language so mild, was so devoid of threat, was so free from anger, that

at the first reading it seemed to ask for nothing. It almost disappointed by its mildness. Mr. Seward's reply, on

the other hand, by its length of argumentation, by a certain sharpness of diction, to which that gentleman is

addicted in his State papers, and by a tone of satisfaction inherent through it all, seemed to demand more than

he conceded. But, in truth, Lord Russell had demanded everything, and the United States government had

I have said that the American government behaved well in its mode of giving the men up, and I think that so

much should be allowed to them on a review of the whole affair. That Captain Wilkes had no instructions to

seize the two men, is a known fact. He did seize them, and brought them into Boston harbor, to the great

delight of his countrymen. This delight I could understand, though of course I did not share it. One of these

men had been the parent of the Fugitive Slave Law; the other had been great in fostering the success of

filibustering. Both of them were hot secessionists, and undoubtedly rebels. No two men on the continent were

more grievous in their antecedents and present characters to all Northern feeling. It is impossible to deny that

they were rebels against the government of their country. That Captain Wilkes was not on this account

justified in seizing them, is now a matter of history; but that the people of the loyal States should rejoice in

their seizure, was a matter of course. Wilkes was received with an ovation, which as regarded him was ill

judged and undeserved, but which in its spirit was natural. Had the President's government at that moment

disowned the deed done by Wilkes, and declared its intention of giving up the men unasked, the clamor

raised would have been very great, and perhaps successful. We were told that the American lawyers were

against their doing so; and indeed there was such a shout of triumph that no ministry in a country so

democratic could have ventured to go at once against it, and to do so without any external pressure.

Then came the one ministerial blunder. The President put forth his message, in which he was cunningly silent

on the Slidell and Mason affair; but to his message was appended, according to custom, the report from Mr.

Welles, the Secretary of the Navy. In this report approval was expressed of the deed done by Captain Wilkes.

Captain Wilkes was thus in all respects indemnified, and the blame, if any, was taken from his shoulders and

put on to the shoulders of that officer who was responsible for the Secretary's letter. It is true that in that letter

the Secretary declared that in case of any future seizure the vessel seized must be taken into port, and so

declared in animadverting on the fact that Captain Wilkes had not brought the "Trent" into port. But,

nevertheless, Secretary Welles approved of Captain Wilkes's conduct. He allowed the reasons to be good

which Wilkes had put forward for leaving the ship, and in all respects indemnified the captain. Then the

responsibility shifted itself to Secretary Welles; but I think it must be clear that the President, in sending

forward that report, took that responsibility upon himself. That he is not bound to send forward the reports of

his Secretaries as he receives themthat he can disapprove them and require alteration, was proved at the

very time by the fact that he had in this way condemned Secretary Cameron's report, and caused a portion of

it to be omitted. Secretary Cameron had unfortunately allowed his entire report to be printed, and it appeare d

in a New York paper. It contained a recommendation with reference to the slave question most offensive to a

part of the cabinet, and to the majority of Mr. Lincoln's party. This, by order of the President, was omitted in

the official way. It was certainly a pity that Mr. Welles's paragraph respecting the "Trent" was not omitted

also. The President was dumb on the matter, and that being so the Secretary should have been dumb also.

But when the demand was made, the States government yielded at once, and yielded without bluster. I cannot

say I much admired Mr. Seward's long letter. It was full of smart special pleading, and savored strongly, as

Mr. Seward's productions always do, of the personal author. Mr. Seward was making an effort to place a

great State paper on record, but the ars celare artem was altogether wanting; and, if I am not mistaken, he was

without the art itself. I think he left the matter very much where he found it. The men, however, were to be

surrendered, and the good policy consisted in this, that no delay was sought, no diplomatic ambiguities were

put into request. It was the opinion of very many that some two or three months might be gained by

correspondence, and that at the end of that time things might stand on a different footing. If during that time

the North should gain any great success over the South, the States might be in a position to disregard

England's threats. No such game was played. The illegality of the arrest was at once acknowledged, and the

men were given up with a tranquillity that certainly appeared marvelous after all that had so lately occurred.

Then came Mr. Sumner's field day. Mr. Charles Sumner is a Senator from Massachusetts, known as a very

hot abolitionist, and as having been the victim of an attack made upon him in the Senate House by Senator

Brooks. He was also, at the time of which I am writing, Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs,

which position is as near akin to that of a British minister in Parliament as can be attained under the existing

Constitution of the States. It is not similar, because such chairman is by no means bound to the government;

but he has ministerial relations, and is supposed to be specially conversant with all questions relating to

foreign affairs. It was understood that Mr. Sumner did not intend to find fault either with England or with the

government of his own country as to its management of this matter; or that, at least, such faultfinding was

not his special object, but that he was desirous to put forth views which might lead to a final settlement of all

On such an occasion, a speaker gives himself very little chance of making a favorable impression on his

immediate hearers if he reads his speech from a written manuscript. Mr. Sumner did so on this occasion, and

I must confess that I was not edified. It seemed to me that he merely repeated, at greater length, the

arguments which I had heard fifty times during the last thirty or forty days. I am told that the discourse is

considered to be logical, and that it "reads" well. As regards the gist of it, or that result which Mr. Sumner

thinks to be desirable, I fully agree with him, as I think will all the civilized world before many years have

passed. If international law be what the lawyers say it is, international law must be altered to suit the

requirements of modern civilization. By those laws, as they are construed, everything is to be done for two

nations at war with each other; but nothing is to be done for all the nations of the world that can manage to

maintain the peace. The belligerents are to be treated with every delicacy, as we treat our heinous criminals;

but the poor neutrals are to be handled with unjust rigor, as we handle our unfortunate witnesses in order that

the murderer may, if possible, be allowed to escape. Two men living in the same street choose to pelt each

other across the way with brickbats, and the other inhabitants are denied the privileges of the footpath lest

they should interfere with the due prosecution of the quarrel! It is, I suppose, the truth that we English have

insisted on this right of search with more pertinacity than any other nation. Now in this case of Slidell and

Mason we have felt ourselves aggrieved, and have resisted. Luckily for us there was no doubt of the illegality

of the mode of seizure in this instance; but who will say that if Captain Wilkes had taken the "Trent" into the

harbor of New York, in order that the matter might have been adjudged there, England would have been

satisfied? Our grievance was, that our mailpacket was stopped on the seas while doing its ordinary

beneficent work. And our resolve is, that our mailpackets shall not be so stopped wit impunity. As we were

high handed in old days in insisting on this right of search, it certainly behoves us to see that we be just in our

modes of proceeding. Would Captain Wilkes have been right, according to the existing law, if he had carried

the "Trent" away to New York? If so, we ought not to be content with having escaped from such a trouble

merely through a mistake on his part. Lord Russell says that the voyage was an innocent voyage. That is the

fact that should be established; not only that the voyage was, in truth, innocent, but that it should not be made

out to be guilty by any international law. Of its real innocency all thinking men must feel themselves assured.

But it is not only of the seizure that we complain, but of the search also. An honest man is not to be bandied

by a policeman while on his daily work, lest by chance a stolen watch should be in his pocket. If international

law did give such power to all belligerents, international law must give it no longer. In the beginning of these

matters, as I take it, the object was when two powerful nations were at war to allow the smaller fry of nations

to enjoy peace and quiet, and to avoid, if possible, the general scuffle. Thence arose the position of a neutral.

But it was clearly not fair that any such nation, having proclaimed its neutrality, should, after that, fetch and

carry for either of the combatants to the prejudice of the other. Hence came the right of search, in order that

unjust falsehood might be prevented. But the seas were not then bridged with ships as they are now bridged,

and the laws as written were, perhaps, then practical and capable of execution. Now they are impracticable

and not capable of execution. It will not, however, do for us to ignore them if they exist; and therefore they

should be changed. It is, I think, manifest that our own pretensions as to the right of search must be modified

after this. And now I trust I may finish my book without again naming Messrs. Slidell and Mason.

The working of the Senate bears little or no analogy to that of our House of Lords. In the first place, the

Senator's tenure there is not hereditary, nor is it for life. They are elected, and sit for six years. Their election

is not made by the people of their States, but by the State legislature. The two Houses, for instance, of the

State of Massachusetts meet together and elect by their joint vote to the vacant seat for their State. It is so

arranged that an entirely new Senate is not elected every sixth year. Instead of this a third of the number is

elected every second year. It is a common thing for Senators to be reelected, and thus to remain in the house

for twelve and eighteen years. In our Parliament the House of Commons has greater political strength and

wider political action than the House of Lords; but in Congress the Senate counts for more than the House of

Representatives in general opinion. Money bills must originate in the House of Representatives, but that is, I

think, the only special privilege attaching to the public purse which the Lower House enjoys over the Upper.

Amendments to such bills can be moved in the Senate; and all such bills must pass the Senate before they

become law. I am inclined to think that individual members of the Senate work harder than individual

Representatives. More is expected of them, and any prolonged absence from duty would be more remarked in

the Senate than in the other House. In our Parliament this is reversed. The payment made to members of the

Senate is 3000 dollars, or 600l., per annum, and to a Representative, 500l. per annum. To this is added certain

mileage allowance for traveling backward and forward between their own State and the Capitol. A Senator,

therefore, from California or Oregon has not altogether a bad place; but the halcyon days of mileage

allowances are, I believe, soon to be brought to an end. It is quite within rule that the Senator of today

should be the Representative of tomorrow. Mr. Crittenden, who was Senator from Kentucky, is now a

member of the Lower House from an electoral district in that State. John Quincy Adams went into the House

Divisions in the Senate do not take place as in the House of Representatives. The ayes and noes are called for

in the same way; but if a poll be demanded, the Clerk of the House calls out the names of the different

Senators, and makes out lists of the votes according to the separate answers given by the members. The mode

is certainly more dignified than that pursued in the other House, where during the ceremony of voting the

I heard two or three debates in the House of Representatives, and that one especially in which, as I have said

before, a chapter was read out of the Book of Joshua. The manner in which the Creator's name and the

authority of His Word was banded about the house on that occasion did not strike me favorably. The question

originally under debate was the relative power of the civil and military authority. Congress had desired to

declare its ascendency over military matters, but the army and the Executive generally had demurred to

this,not with an absolute denial of the rights of Congress, but with those civil and almost silent generalities

with which a really existing power so well knows how to treat a nominal power. The ascendant wife seldom

tells her husband in so many words that his opinion in the house is to go for nothing; she merely resolves that

such shall be the case, and acts accordingly. An observer could not but perceive that in those days Congress

was taking upon itself the part, not exactly of an obedient husband, but of a husband vainly attempting to

assert his supremacy. "I have got to learn," said one gentleman after another, rising indignantly on the floor,

"that the military authority of our generals is above that of this House." And then one gentleman relieved the

difficulty of the position by branching off into an eloquent discourse against slavery, and by causing a chapter

On that occasion the gentleman's diversion seemed to have the effect of relieving the House altogether from

the embarrassment of the original question; but it was becoming manifest, day by day, that Congress was

losing its ground, and that the army was becoming indifferent to its thunders: that the army was doing so, and

also that ministers were doing so. In the States, the President and his ministers are not in fact subject to any

parliamentary responsibility. The President may be impeached, but the member of an opposition does not

always wish to have recourse to such an extreme measure as impeachment. The ministers are not in the

houses, and cannot therefore personally answer questions. Different large subjects, such as foreign affairs,

financial affairs, and army matters, are referred to Standing Committees in both Houses; and these

committees have relations with the ministers. But they have no constitutional power over the ministers; nor

have they the much more valuable privilege of badgering a minister hither and thither by viva voce questions

on every point of his administration. The minister sits safe in his officesafe there for the term of the

existing Presidency if he can keep well with the president; and therefore, even under ordinary circumstances,

does not care much for the printed or written messages of Congress. But under circumstances so little

ordinary as those of 186l62, while Washington was surrounded by hundreds of thousands of soldiers,

Congress was absolutely impotent. Mr. Seward could snap his fingers at Congress, and he did so. He could

not snap his fingers at the army; but then he could go with the army, could keep the army on his side by

remaining on the same side with the army; and this as it seemed he resolved to do. It must be understood that

Mr. Seward was not Prime Minister. The President of the United States has no Prime Ministeror hitherto

has had none. The Minister for Foreign Affairs has usually stood highest in the cabinet, and Mr. Seward, as

holding that position, was not inclined to lessen its authority. He was gradually assuming for that position the

prerogatives of a Premier, and men were beginning to talk of Mr. Seward's ministry. It may easily be

understood that at such a time the powers of Congress would be undefined, and that ambitious members of

Congress would rise and assert on the floor, with that peculiar voice of indignation so common in

parliamentary debate, "that they had got to learn," etc. etc. etc. It seemed to me that the lesson which they had

yet to learn was then in the process of being taught to them. They were anxious to be told all about the

mischance at Ball's Bluff, but nobody would tell them anything about it. They wanted to know something of

that blockade on the Potomac; but such knowledge was not good for them. "Pack them up in boxes, and send

them home," one military gentleman said to me. And I began to think that something of the kind would be

done, if they made themselves troublesome. I quote here the manner in which their questions, respecting the

affair at Ball's Bluff, were answered by the Secretary of war. "The Speaker laid before the House a letter from

the Secretary of War, in which he says that he has the honor to acknowledge the receipt of the resolution

adopted on the 6th instant, to the effect that the answer of the Department to the resolution, passed on the

second day of the session, is not responsive and satisfactory to the House, and requesting a farther answer.

The Secretary has now to state that measures have been taken to ascertain who is responsible for the

disastrous movement at Ball's Bluff, but that it is not compatible with the public interest to make known those

In truth the days are evil for any Congress of debaters, when a great army is in camp on every side of them.

The people had called for the army, and there it was. It was of younger birth than Congress, and had thrown

its elder brother considerably out of favor as has been done before by many a newborn baby. If Congress

could amuse itself with a few set speeches, and a field day or two, such as those afforded by Mr. Sumner, it

might all be very wellprovided that such speeches did not attack the army. Over and beyond this, let them

vote the supplies and have done with it. Was it probable that General McClellan should have time to answer

questions about Ball's Bluffand he with such a job of work on his hands? Congress could of course vote

what committees of military inquiry it might please, and might ask questions without end; but we all know to

what such questions lead, when the questioner has no power to force an answer by a penalty. If it might be

possible to maintain the semblance of respect for Congress, without too much embarrassment to military

secretaries, such semblance should be maintained; but if Congress chose to make itself really disagreeable,

then no semblance could be kept up any longer. That, as far as I could judge, was the position of Congress in

the early months of 1862; and that, under existing circumstances, was perhaps the only possible position that

All this to me was very melancholy. The streets of Washington were always full of soldiers. Mounted sentries

stood at the corners of all the streets with drawn sabersshivering in the cold and besmeared with mud. A

military law came out that civilians might not ride quickly through the street. Military riders galloped over

one at every turn, splashing about through the mud, and reminding one not unfrequently of John Gilpin. Why

they always went so fast, destroying their horses' feet on the rough stones, I could never learn. But I, as a

civilian, given as Englishmen are to trotting, and furnished for the time with a nimble trotter, found myself

harried from time to time by muddy men with sabers, who would dash after me, rattling their trappings, and

bid me go at a slower pace. There is a building in Washington, built by private munificence and devoted,

according to an inscription which it bears, "To the Arts." It has been turned into an army clothing

establishment. The streets of Washington, night and day, were thronged with army wagons. All through the

city military huts and military tents were to be seen, pitched out among the mud and in the desert places.

Then there was the chosen locality of the teamsters and their mules and horsesa wonderful world in itself;

and all within the city! Here horses and mules livedor diedsub dio, with no slightest apology for a stable

over them, eating their provender from off the wagons to which they were fastened. Here, there, and

everywhere large houses were occupied as the headquarters of some officer, or the bureau of some military

official. At Washington and round Washington the army was everything. While this was so, is it to be

conceived that Congress should ask questions about military matters with success?

All this, as I say, filled me with sorrow. I hate military belongings, and am disgusted at seeing the great

affairs of a nation put out of their regular course. Congress to me is respectable. Parliamentary debatesbe

they ever so prosy, as with us, or even so rowdy, as sometimes they have been with our cousins across the

waterengage my sympathies. I bow inwardly before a Speaker's chair, and look upon the elected

representatives of any nation as the choice men of the age. Those muddy, clattering dragoons, sitting at the

corners of the streets with dirty woolen comforters around their ears, were to me hideous in the extreme. But

there at Washington, at the period of which I am writing, I was forced to acknowledge that Congress was at a

discount, and that the roughshod generals were the men of the day. "Pack them up and send them in boxes

to their several States." It would come to that, I thought, or to something like that, unless Congress would

consent to be submissive. "I have yet to learn!" said indignant members, stamping with their feet on the

floor of the House. One would have said that by that time the lesson might almost have been understood.

Up to the period of this civil war Congress has certainly worked well for the United States. It might be easy

to pick holes in it; to show that some members have been corrupt, others quarrelsome, and others again

impracticable. But when we look at the circumstances under which it has been from year to year elected;

when we remember the position of the newly populated States from which the members have been sent, and

the absence throughout the country of that old traditionary class of Parliament men on whom we depend in

England; when we think how recent has been the elevation in life of the majority of those who are and must

be elected, it is impossible to deny them praise for intellect, patriotism, good sense, and diligence. They

began but sixty years ago, and for sixty years Congress has fully answered the purpose for which it was

established. With no antecedents of grandeur, the nation, with its Congress, has made itself one of the five

great nations of the world. And what living English politician will say even now, with all its troubles thick

upon it, that it is the smallest of the five? When I think of this, and remember the position in Europe which an

American has been able to claim for himself, I cannot but acknowledge that Congress on the whole has been

The question now to be asked is this Have the powers of Congress been sufficient, or are they sufficient,

for the continued maintenance of free government in the States under the Constitution? I think that the

powers given by the existing Constitution to Congress can no longer be held to be sufficient; and that if the

Union be maintained at all, it must be done by a closer assimilation of its congressional system to that of our

Parliament. But to that matter I must allude again, when speaking of the existing Constitution of the States.

I have seen various essays purporting to describe the causes of this civil war between the North and South;

but they have generally been written with the view of vindicating either one side or the other, and have

spoken rather of causes which should, according to the ideas of their writers, have produced peace, than of

those which did, in the course of events, actually produce war. This has been essentially the case with Mr.

Everett, who in his lecture at New York, on the 4th of July, 1860, recapitulated all the good things which the

North has done for the South, and who provedif he has proved anythingthat the South should have

cherished the North instead of hating it. And this was very much the case also with Mr. Motley in his letter to

the London Times. That letter is good in its way, as is everything that comes from Mr. Motley, but it does not

tell us why the war has existed. Why is it that eight millions of people have desired to separate themselves

from a rich and mighty empirefrom an empire which was apparently on its road to unprecedented success,

and which had already achieved wealth, consideration, power, and internal wellbeing?

One would be glad to imagine, from the essays of Mr. Everett and of Mr. Motley, that slavery has had little or

nothing to do with it. I must acknowledge it to be my opinion that slavery in its various bearings has been the

single and necessary cause of the war; that slavery being there in the South, this war was only to be avoided

by a voluntary divisionsecession voluntary both on the part of North and South; that in the event of such

voluntary secession being not asked for, or if asked for not conceded, revolution and civil war became

The arguments used by both the gentlemen I have named prove very clearly that South Carolina and her sister

States had no right to secede under the Constitution; that is to say, that it was not open to them peaceably to

take their departure, and to refuse further allegiance to the President and Congress without a breach of the

laws by which they were bound. For a certain term of years, namely, from 1781 to 1787, the different States

endeavored to make their way in the world simply leagued together by certain articles of confederation. It

was declared that each State retained its sovereignty, freedom, and independence; and that the said States

then entered severally into a firm league of friendship with each other for their common defense. There was

no President, no Congress taking the place of our Parliament, but simply a congress of delegates or

ambassadors, two or three from each State, who were to act in accordance with the policy of their own

individual States. It is well that this should be thoroughly understood, not as bearing on the question of the

present war, but as showing that a loose confederation, not subversive of the separate independence of the

States, and capable of being partially dissolved at the will of each separate State, was tried, and was found to

fail. South Carolina took upon herself to act as she might have acted had that confederation remained in

force; but that confederation was an acknowledged failure. National greatness could not be achieved under it,

and individual enterprise could not succeed under it. Then in lieu of that, by the united consent of the thirteen

States, the present Constitution was drawn up and sanctioned, and to that every State bound itself in

allegiance. In that Constitution no power of secession is either named or presumed to exist. The individual

sovereignty of the States had, in the first instance, been thought desirable. The young republicans hankered

after the separate power and separate name which each might then have achieved; but that dream had been

found vainand therefore the States, at the cost of some fond wishes, agreed to seek together for national

power rather than run the risks entailed upon separate existence. Those of my readers who may be desirous of

examining this matter for themselves, are referred to the Articles of Confederation and the Constitution of the

United States. The latter alone is clear enough on the subject, but is strengthened by the former in proving

But they who created the Constitution, who framed the clauses, and gave to this terribly important work what

wisdom they possessed, did not presume to think that it could be final. The mode of altering the Constitution

is arranged in the Constitution. Such alterations must be proposed either by twothirds of both the houses of

the general Congress, or by the legislatures of twothirds of the States; and must, when so proposed, be

ratified by the legislatures of threefourths of the States, (Article V.) There can, I think, be no doubt that any

alteration so carried would be valideven though that alteration should go to the extent of excluding one or

any number of States from the Union. Any division so made would be made in accordance with the

South Carolina and the Southern States no doubt felt that they would not succeed in obtaining secession in

this way, and therefore they sought to obtain the separation which they wanted by revolutionby revolution

and rebellion, as Naples has lately succeeded in her attempt to change her political status; as Hungary is

looking to do; as Poland has been seeking to do any time since her subjection; as the revolted colonies of

Great Britain succeeded in doing in 1776, whereby they created this great nation which is now undergoing all

the sorrows of a civil war. The name of secession claimed by the South for this movement is a misnomer. If

any part of a nationality or empire ever rebelled against the government established on behalf of the whole,

South Carolina so rebelled when, on the 20th of November, 1860, she put forth her ordinance of socalled

secession; and the other Southern States joined in that rebellion when they followed her lead. As to that fact,

there cannot, I think, much longer be any doubt in any mind. I insist on this especially, repeating perhaps

unnecessarily opinions expressed in my first volume, because I still see it stated by English writers that the

secession ordinance of South Carolina should have been accepted as a political act by the Government of the

United States. It seems to me that no government can in this way accept an act of rebellion without declaring

But what if such rebellion be justifiable, or even reasonable? what if the rebels have cause for their rebellion?

For no one will now deny that rebellion may be both reasonable and justifiable; or that every subject in the

land may be bound in duty to rebel. In such case the government will be held to have brought about its own

punishment by its own fault. But as government is a wide affair, spreading itself gradually, and growing in

virtue or in vice from small beginningsfrom seeds slow to produce their fruitsit is much easier to discern

the incidence of the punishment than the perpetration of the fault. Government goes astray by degrees, or sins

by the absence of that wisdom which should teach rulers how to make progress as progress is made by those

whom they rule. The fault may be absolutely negative and have spread itself over centuries; may be, and

generally has been, attributable to dull, good men; but not the less does the punishment come at a blow. The

rebellion exists and cannot be put downwill put down all that opposes it; but the government is not the less

bound to make its fight. That is the punishment that comes on governing men or on governing a people that

As Mr. Motley says in the paper to which I have alluded, "No man, on either side of the Atlantic, with

AngloSaxon blood in his veins, will dispute the right of a people, or of any portion of a people, to rise

against oppression, to demand redress of grievances, and in case of denial of justice to take up arms to

vindicate the sacred principle of liberty. Few Englishmen or Americans will deny that the source of

government is the consent of the governed, or that every nation has the right to govern itself according to its

will. When the silent consent is changed to fierce remonstrance, revolution is impending. The right of

revolution is indisputable. It is written on the whole record of our race, British and American history is made

up of rebellion and revolution. Hampden, Pym, and Oliver Cromwell; Washington, Adams, and Jefferson, all

were rebels." Then comes the question whether South Carolina and the Gulf States had so suffered as to make

rebellion on their behalf justifiable or reasonable; or if not, what cause had been strong enough to produce in

them so strong a desire for secession, a desire which has existed for fully half the term through which the

United States has existed as a nation, and so firm a resolve to rush into rebellion with the object of

It must, I think, be conceded that the Gulf States have not suffered at all by their connection with the

Northern States; that in lieu of any such suffering, they owe all their national greatness to the Northern States;

that they have been lifted up, by the commercial energy of the Atlantic States and by the agricultural

prosperity of the Western States, to a degree of national consideration and respect through the world at large

which never could have belonged to them standing alone. I will not trouble my readers with statistics which

few would care to follow; but let any man of ordinary everyday knowledge turn over in his own mind his

present existing ideas of the wealth and commerce of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Pittsburg,

and Cincinnati, and compare them with his ideas as to New Orleans, Charleston, Savannah, Mobile,

Richmond, and Memphis. I do not name such towns as Baltimore and St. Louis, which stand in slave States,

but which have raised themselves to prosperity by Northern habits. If this be not sufficient, let him refer to

population tables and tables of shipping and tonnage. And of those Southern towns which I have named the

commercial wealth is of Northern creation. The success of New Orleans as a city can be no more attributed to

Louisianians than can that of the Havana to the men of Cuba, or of Calcutta to the natives of India. It has

been a repetition of the old story, told over and over again through every century since commerce has

flourished in the world; the tropics can produce, but the men from the North shall sow and reap, and garner

and enjoy. As the Creator's work has progressed, this privilege has extended itself to regions farther removed

and still farther from southern influences. If we look to Europe, we see that this has been so in Greece, Italy,

Spain, France, and the Netherlands; in England and Scotland; in Prussia and in Russia; and the Western

World shows us the same story. Where is now the glory of the Antilles? where the riches of Mexico and the

power of Peru? They still produce sugar, guano, gold, cotton, coffeealmost whatever we may ask

themand will continue to do so while held to labor under sufficient restraint; but where are their men,

where are their books, where is their learning, their art, their enterprise? I say it with sad regret at the

decadence of so vast a population; but I do say that the Southern States of America have not been able to

keep pace with their Northern brethren; that they have fallen behind in the race, and, feeling that the struggle

The reasons put forward by the South for secession have been trifling almost beyond conception. Northern

tariffs have been the first, and perhaps foremost. Then there has been a plea that the national exchequer has

paid certain bounties to New England fishermen, of which the South has paid its share, getting no part of such

bounty in return. There is also a complaint as to the navigation lawsmeaning, I believe, that the laws of the

States increase the cost of coast traffic by forbidding foreign vessels to engage in the trade, thereby increasing

also the price of goods and confining the benefit to the North, which carries on the coasting trade of the

country, and doing only injury to the South, which has none of it. Then last, but not least, comes that

grievance as to the Fugitive Slave Law. The law of the land as a wholethe law of the nationrequires the

rendition from free States of all fugitive slaves. But the free States will not obey this law. They even pass

State laws in opposition to it, "Catch your own slaves," they say, "and we will not hinder you; at any rate we

will not hinder you officially. Of nonofficial hinderance you must take your chance. But we absolutely

decline to employ our officers to catch your slaves." That list comprises, as I take it, the amount of Southern

official grievances. Southern people will tell you privately of others. They will say that they cannot sleep

happy in their beds, fearing lest insurrection should be roused among their slaves. They will tell you of

domestic comfort invaded by Northern falsehood. They will explain to you how false has been Mrs. Beecher

Stowe. Ladies will fill your ears and your hearts too with tales of the daily efforts they make for the comfort

of their "people," and of the ruin to those efforts which arises from the malice of the abolitionists. To all this

you make some answer with your tongue that is hardly truefor in such a matter courtesy forbids the plain

truth. But your heart within answers truly, "Madam, dear madam, your sorrow is great; but that sorrow is the

As to those official reasons, in what fewest words I can use I will endeavor to show that they come to

nothing. The tariffand a monstrous tariff it then waswas the ground put forward by South Carolina for

secession when General Jackson was President and Mr. Calhoun was the hero of the South. Calhoun bound

himself and his State to take certain steps toward secession at a certain day if that tariff were not abolished.

The tariff was so absurd that Jackson and his government were forced to abandon itwould have abandoned

it without any threat from Calhoun; but under that threat it was necessary that Calhoun should be defied.

General Jackson proposed a compromise tariff, which was odious to Calhounnot on its own behalf, for it

yielded nearly all that was asked, but as being subversive of his desire for secession. The President, however,

not only insisted on his compromise, but declared his purpose of preventing its passage into law unless

Calhoun himself, as Senator, would vote for it. And he also declared his purpose not, we may presume,

officiallyof hanging Calhoun, if he took that step toward secession which he had bound himself to take in

the event of the tariff not being repealed. As a result of all this Calhoun voted for the compromise, and

secession for the time was beaten down. That was in 1832, and may be regarded as the commencement of the

secession movement. The tariff was then a convenient reason, a ground to be assigned with a color of justice

because it was a tariff admitted to be bad. But the tariff has been modified again and again since that, and the

tariff existing when South Carolina seceded in 1860 had been carried by votes from South Carolina. The

absurd Morrill tariff could not have caused secession, for it was passed, without a struggle, in the collapse of

The bounty to fishermen was given to create sailors, so that a marine might be provided for the nation. I need

hardly show that the national benefit would accrue to the whole nation for whose protection such sailors were

needed. Such a system of bounties may be bad; but if so, it was bad for the whole nation. It did not affect

South Carolina otherwise than it affected Illinois, Pennsylvania, or even New York.

The navigation laws may also have been bad. According to my thinking such protective laws are bad; but

they created no special hardship on the South. By any such a theory of complaint all sections of all nations

have ground of complaint against any other section which receives special protection under any law. The

drinkers of beer in England should secede because they pay a tax, whereas the consumers of paper pay none.

The navigation laws of the States are no doubt injurious to the mercantile interests of the States. I at least

have no doubt on the subject. But no one will think that secession is justified by the existence of a law of

questionable expediency. Bad laws will go by the board if properly handled by those whom they pinch, as the

As to that Fugitive Slave Law, it should be explained that the grievance has not arisen from the loss of slaves.

I have heard it stated that South Carolina, up to the time of the secession, had never lost a slave in this

waythat is, by Northern opposition to the Fugitive Slave Law; and that the total number of slaves escaping

successfully into the Northern States, and there remaining through the nonoperation of this law, did not

amount to five in the year. It has not been a question of property, but of feeling. It has been a political point;

and the South has conceivedand probably conceived trulythat this resolution on the part of Northern

States to defy the law with reference to slaves, even though in itself it might not be immediately injurious to

Southern property, was an insertion of the narrow end of the wedge. It was an action taken against

slaveryan action taken by men of the North against their fellowcountrymen in the South. Under such

circumstances, the sooner such countrymen should cease to be their fellows the better it would be for them.

That, I take it, was the argument of the South, or at any rate that was its feeling.

I have said that the reasons given for secession have been trifling, and among them have so estimated this

matter of the Fugitive Slave Law. I mean to assert that the ground actually put forward is triflingthe loss,

namely, of slaves to which the South has been subjected. But the true reason pointed at in thisthe

conviction, namely, that the North would not leave slavery alone, and would not allow it to remain as a

settled institutionwas by no means trifling. It has been this conviction on the part of the South that the

North would not live in amity with slaverywould continue to fight it under this banner or under that, would

still condemn it as disgraceful to men and rebuke it as impious before Godwhich has produced rebellion

and civil war, and will ultimately produce that division for which the South is fighting and against which the

North is fighting, and which, when accomplished, will give the North new wings, and will leave the South

Under such circumstances I cannot think that rebellion on the part of the South was justified by wrongs

endured, or made reasonable by the prospect of wrongs to be inflicted. It is disagreeable, that having to live

with a wife who is always rebuking one for some special fault; but the outside world will not grant a divorce

on that account, especially if the outside world is well aware that the fault so rebuked is of daily occurrence.

"If you do not choose to be called a drunkard by your wife," the outside world will say, "it will be well that

you should cease to drink." Ah! but that habit of drinking, when once acquired, cannot easily be laid aside.

The brain will not work; the organs of the body will not perform their functions; the blood will not run. The

drunkard must drink till he dies. All that may be a good ground for divorce, the outside world will say; but

the plea should be put in by the sober wife, not by the intemperate husband. But what if the husband takes

himself off without any divorce, and takes with him also his wife's property, her earnings, that on which he

has lived and his children? It may be a good bargain still for her, the outside world will say; but she, if she be

a woman of spirit, will not willingly put up with such wrongs. The South has been the husband drunk with

Rebellion, as I have said, is often justifiable but it is, I think, never justifiable on the part of a paid servant of

that government against which it is raised. We must, at any rate, feel that this is true of men in high

placesas regards those men to whom by reason of their offices it should specially belong to put down

rebellion. Had Washington been the governor of Virginia, had Cromwell been a minister of Charles, had

Garibaldi held a marshal's baton under the Emperor of Austria or the King of Naples, those men would have

been traitors as well as rebels. Treason and rebellion may be made one under the law, but the mind will

always draw the distinction. I, if I rebel against the Crown, am not on that account necessarily a traitor. A

betrayal of trust is, I take it, necessary to treason. I am not aware that Jefferson Davis is a traitor; but that

Buchanan was a traitor admits, I think, of no doubt. Under him, and with his connivance, the rebellion was

allowed to make its way. Under him, and by his officers, arms and ships and men and money were sent away

from those points at which it was known that they would be needed, if it were intended to put down the

coming rebellion, and to those points at which it was known that they would be needed, if it were intended to

foster the coming rebellion. But Mr. Buchanan had no eager feeling in favor of secession. He was not of that

stuff of which are made Davis, and Toombs, and Slidell. But treason was easier to him than loyalty.

Remonstrance was made to him, pointing out the misfortunes which his action, or want of action, would

bring upon the country. "Not in my time," he answered. "It will not be in my time." So that he might escape

unscathed out of the fire, this chief ruler of a nation of thirty millions of men was content to allow treason and

rebellion to work their way! I venture to say so much here as showing how impossible it was that Mr.

Lincoln's government, on its coming into office, should have given to the South, not what the South had

asked, for the South had not asked, but what the South had taken, what the South had tried to filch. Had the

South waited for secession till Mr. Lincoln had been in his chair, I could understand that England should

sympathize with her. For myself I cannot agree to that scuttling of the ship by the captain on the day which

The Southern States were driven into rebellion by no wrongs inflicted on them; but their desire for secession

is not on that account matter for astonishment. It would have been surprising had they not desired secession.

Secession of one kind, a very practical secession, had already been forced upon them by circumstances. They

had become a separate people, dissevered from the North by habits, morals, institutions, pursuits, and every

conceivable difference in their modes of thought and action. They still spoke the same language, as do

Austria and Prussia; but beyond that tie of language they had no bond but that of a meager political union in

their Congress at Washington. Slavery, as it had been expelled from the North, and as it had come to be

welcomed in the South, had raised such a wall of difference that true political union was out of the question.

It would be juster, perhaps, to say that those physical characteristics of the South which had induced this

welcoming of slavery, and those other characteristics of the North which had induced its expulsion, were the

true causes of the difference. For years and years this has been felt by both, and the fight has been going on. It

has been continued for thirty years, and almost always to the detriment of the South. In 1845 Florida and

Texas were admitted into the Union as slave States. I think that no State had then been admitted, as a free

State, since Michigan, in 1836. In 1846 Iowa was admitted as a free State, and from that day to this

Wisconsin, California, Minnesota, Oregon, and Kansas have been brought into the Union; all as free States.

The annexation of another slave State to the existing Union had become, I imagine, impossibleunless such

object were gained by the admission of Texas. We all remember that fight about Kansas, and what sort of a

fight it was! Kansas lies alongside of Missouri, a slave State, and is contiguous to no other State. If the

freesoil party could, in the days of Pierce and Buchanan, carry the day in Kansas, it is not likely that they

would be beaten on any new ground under such a President as Lincoln. We have all heard in Europe how

Southern men have ruled in the White House, nearly from the days of Washington downward; or if not

Southern men, Northern men, such as Pierce and Buchanan, with Southern politics; and therefore we have

been taught to think that the South has been politically the winning party. They have, in truth, been the losing

party as regards national power. But what they have so lost they have hitherto recovered by political address

and individual statecraft. The leading men of the South have seen their position, and have gone to their work

with the exercise of all their energies. They organized the Democratic party so as to include the leaders

among the Northern politicians. They never begrudged to these assistants a full share of the good things of

official life. They have been aided by the fanatical abolitionism of the North by which the Republican party

has been divided into two sections. It has been fashionable to be a Democrat, that is, to hold Southern

politics, and unfashionable to be a Republican, or to hold antiSouthern politics. In that way the South has

lived and struggled on against the growing will of the population; but at last that will became too strong, and

It is not surprising that the South should have desired secession. It is not surprising that it should have

prepared for it. Since the days of Mr. Calhoun its leaders have always understood its position with a fair

amount of political accuracy. Its only chance of political life lay in prolonged ascendency at Washington. The

swelling crowds of Germans, by whom the Western States were being filled, enlisted themselves to a man in

the ranks of abolition. What was the acquisition of Texas against such hosts as these? An evil day was

coming on the Southern politicians, and it behooved them to be prepared. As a separate nationa nation

trusting to cotton, having in their hands, as they imagined, a monopoly of the staple of English manufacture,

with a tariff of their own, and those rabid curses on the source of all their wealth no longer ringing in their

ears, what might they not do as a separate nation? But as a part of the Union, they were too weak to hold their

own if once their political finesse should fail them. That day came upon them, not unexpected, in 1860, and

And all this has come from slavery. It is hard enough, for how could the South have escaped slavery? How, at

least, could the South have escaped slavery any time during these last thirty years? And is it, moreover, so

certain that slavery is an unmitigated evil, opposed to God's will, and producing all the sorrows which have

ever been produced by tyranny and wrong? It is here, after all, that one comes to the difficult question. Here

is the knot which the fingers of men cannot open, and which admits of no sudden cutting with the knife. I

have likened the slaveholding States to the drunken husband, and in so doing have pronounced judgment

against them. As regards the state of the drunken man, his unfitness for partnership with any decent, diligent,

welltodo wife, his ruined condition, and shattered prospects, the simile, I think, holds good. But I refrain

from saying that as the fault was originally with the drunkard in that he became such, so also has the fault

been with the slave States. At any rate I refrain from so saying here, on this page. That the position of a

slaveowner is terribly prejudicial, not to the slave, of whom I do not here speak, but to the owner; of so much

at any rate I feel assured. That the position is therefore criminal and damnable, I am not now disposed to take

The question of slavery in America cannot be handled fully and fairly by any one who is afraid to go back

upon the subject, and take its whole history since one man first claimed and exercised the right of forcing

labor from another man. I certainly am afraid of any such task; but I believe that there has been no period yet,

since the world's work began, when such a practice has not prevailed in a large portion, probably in the

largest portion, of the world's work fields. As civilization has made its progress, it has been the duty and

delight, as it has also been the interest of the men at the top of affairs, not to lighten the work of the men

below, but so to teach them that they should recognize the necessity of working without coercion.

Emancipation of serfs and thrals, of bondsmen and slaves, has always meant thisthat men having been so

In talking or writing of slaves, we always now think of the negro slave. Of us Englishmen it must at any rate

be acknowledged that we have done what in us lay to induce him to recognize this necessity for labor. At any

rate we acted on the presumption that he would do so, and gave him his liberty throughout all our lands at a

cost which has never yet been reckoned up in pounds, shillings, and pence. The cost never can be reckoned

up, nor can the gain which we achieved in purging ourselves from the degradation and demoralization of such

employment. We come into court with clean hands, having done all that lay with us to do to put down slavery

both at home and abroad. But when we enfranchised the negroes, we did so with the intention, at least, that

they should work as free men. Their share of the bargain in that respect they have declined to keep, wherever

starvation has not been the result of such resolve on their part; and from the date of our emancipation, seeing

the position which the negroes now hold with us, the Southern States of America have learned to regard

slavery as a permanent institution, and have taught themselves to regard it as a blessing, and not as a curse.

Negroes were first taken over to America because the white man could not work under the tropical heats, and

because the native Indian would not work. The latter people has been, or soon will be,

exterminatedpolished off the face of creation, as the Americans saywhich fate must, I should say, in the

long run attend all non working people. As the soil of the world is required for increasing population, the

nonworking people must go. And so the Indians have gone. The negroes, under compulsion, did work, and

work well; and under their hands vast regions of the western tropics became fertile gardens. The fact that they

were carried up into northern regions which from their nature did not require such aid, that slavery prevailed

in New York and Massachusetts, does not militate against my argument. The exact limits of any great

movement will not be bounded by its purpose. The heated wax which you drop on your letter spreads itself

beyond the necessities of your seal. That these negroes would not have come to the Western World without

compulsion, or having come, would not have worked without compulsion, is, I imagine, acknowledged by

all. That they have multiplied in the Western World and have there become a race happier, at any rate in all

the circumstances of their life, than their still untamed kinsmen in Africa, must also be acknowledged. Who,

then, can dare to wish that all that has been done by the negro immigration should have remained undone?

The name of slave is odious to me. If I know myself I would not own a negro though he could sweat gold on

my behoof. I glory in that bold leap in the dark which England took with regard to her own West Indian

slaves. But I do not see the less clearly the difficulty of that position in which the Southern States have been

placed; and I will not call them wicked, impious, and abominable, because they now hold by slavery, as other

nations have held by it at some period of their career. It is their misfortune that they must do so nownow,

when so large a portion of the world has thrown off the system, spurning as base and profitless all labor that

is not free. It is their misfortune, for henceforth they must stand alone, with small rank among the nations,

whereas their brethren of the North will still "flame in the forehead of the morning sky."

When the present Constitution of the United States was writtenthe merit of which must probably be given

mainly to Madison and Hamilton, Madison finding the French democratic element, and Hamilton the English

conservative elementthis question of slavery was doubtless a great trouble. The word itself is not

mentioned in the Constitution. It speaks not of a slave, but of a "person held to service or labor." It neither

sanctions nor forbids slavery. It assumes no power in the matter of slavery; and under it, at the present

moment, all Congress voting together, with the full consent of the legislatures of thirtythree States, could

not constitutionally put down slavery in the remaining thirtyfourth State. In fact the Constitution ignored the

But, nevertheless, Washington, and Jefferson from whom Madison received his inspiration, were opposed to

slavery. I do not know that Washington ever took much action in the matter, but his expressed opinion is on

record. But Jefferson did so throughout his life. Before the Declaration of Independence he endeavored to

make slavery illegal in Virginia. In this he failed, but long afterward, when the United States was a nation, he

succeeded in carrying a law by which the further importation of slaves into any of the States was prohibited

after a certain year1820. When this law was passed, the framers of it considered that the gradual abolition

of slavery would be secured. Up to that period the negro population in the States had not been

selfmaintained. As now in Cuba, the numbers had been kept up by new importations, and it was calculated

that the race, when not recruited from Africa, would die out. That this calculation was wrong we now know,

At that time there were no cotton fields. Alabama and Mississippi were outlying territories. Louisiana had

been recently purchased, but was not yet incorporated as a State. Florida still belonged to Spain, and was all

but unpopulated. Of Texas no man had yet heard. Of the slave States, Virginia, the two Carolinas, and

Georgia were alone wedded to slavery. Then the matter might have been managed. But under the

Constitution as it had been framed, and with the existing powers of the separate States, there was not even

then open any way by which slavery could be abolished other than by the separate action of the States; nor

has there been any such way opened since. With slavery these Southern States have grown and become

fertile. The planters have thriven, and the cotton fields have spread themselves. And then came emancipation

in the British islands. Under such circumstances and with such a lesson, could it be expected that the

It is vain to say that slavery has not caused secession, and that slavery has not caused the war. That, and that

only, has been the real cause of this conflict, though other small collateral issues may now be put forward to

bear the blame. Those other issues have arisen from this question of slavery, and are incidental to it and a part

of it. Massachusetts, as we all know, is democratic in its tendencies, but South Carolina is essentially

aristocratic. This difference has come of slavery. A slave country, which has progressed far in slavery, must

be aristocratic in its nature aristocratic and patriarchal. A large slaveowner from Georgia may call himself

a democrat, may think that he reveres republican institutions, and may talk with American horror of the

thrones of Europe; but he must in his heart be an aristocrat. We, in England, are apt to speak of republican

institutions, and of universal suffrage, which is perhaps the chief of them, as belonging equally to all the

States. In South Carolina there is not and has not been any such thing. The electors for the President there are

chosen not by the people, but by the legislature; and the votes for the legislature are limited by a high

property qualification. A high property qualification is required for a member of the House of

Representatives in South Carolina; four hundred freehold acres of land and ten negroes is one qualification.

Five hundred pounds clear of debt is another qualification; for, where a sum of money is thus named, it is

given in English money. Russia and England are not more unlike in their political and social feelings than are

the real slave States and the real freesoil States. The gentlemen from one and from the other side of the line

have met together on neutral ground, and have discussed political matters without flying frequently at each

other's throats, while the great question on which they differed was allowed to slumber. But the awakening

has been coming by degrees, and now the South had felt that it was come. Old John Brown, who did his best

to create a servile insurrection at Harper's Ferry, has been canonized through the North and West, to the

amazement and horror of the South. The decision in the "Dred Scott" case, given by the Chief Justice of the

Supreme Court of the United States, has been received with shouts of execration through the North and West.

The Southern gentry have been UncleTommed into madness. It is no light thing to be told daily by your

fellow citizens, by your fellowrepresentatives, by your fellowsenators, that you are guilty of the one

damning sin that cannot be forgiven. All this they could partly moderate, partly rebuke, and partly bear as

long as political power remained in their hands; but they have gradually felt that that was going, and were

Such, according to my ideas, have been the causes of the war. But I cannot defend the South. As long as they

could be successful in their schemes for holding the political power of the nation, they were prepared to hold

by the nation. Immediately those schemes failed, they were prepared to throw the nation overboard. In this

there has undoubtedly been treachery as well as rebellion. Had these politicians been honestthough the

political growth of Washington has hardly admitted of political honestybut had these politicians been even

ordinarily respectable in their dishonesty, they would have claimed secession openly before Congress, while

yet their own President was at the White House. Congress would not have acceded. Congress itself could not

have acceded under the Constitution; but a way would have been found, had the Southern States been

persistent in their demand. A way, indeed, has been found; but it has lain through fire and water, through

blood and ruin, through treason and theft, and the downfall of national greatness. Secession will, I think, be

accomplished, and the Southern Confederation of States will stand something higher in the world than

Mexico and the republics of Central America. Her cotton monopoly will have vanished, and her wealth will

I think that history will agree with me in saying that the Northern States had no alternative but war. What

concession could they make? Could they promise to hold their peace about slavery? And had they so

promised, would the South have believed them? They might have conceded secession; that is, they might

have given all that would have been demanded. But what individual chooses to yield to such demands. And if

not an individual, then what people will do so? But, in truth, they could not have yielded all that was

demanded. Had secession been granted to South Carolina and Georgia, Virginia would have been coerced to

join those States by the nature of her property, and with Virginia Maryland would have gone, and

Washington, the capital. What may be the future line of division between the North and the South, I will not

pretend to say; but that line will probably be dictated by the North. It may still be hoped that Missouri,

Kentucky, Virginia, and Maryland will go with the North, and be rescued from slavery. But had secession

been yielded, had the prestige of success fallen to the lot of the South, those States must have become

While on the subject of slaveryfor in discussing the cause of the war, slavery is the subject that must be

discussedI cannot forbear to say a few words about the negroes of the North American States. The

Republican party of the North is divided into two sections, of which one may be called abolitionist, and the

other non abolitionist. Mr. Lincoln's government presumes itself to belong to the latter, though its

tendencies toward abolition are very strong. The abolition party is growing in strength daily. It is but a short

time since Wendell Phillips could not lecture in Boston without a guard of police. Now, at this moment of my

writing, he is a popular hero. The very men who, five years since, were accustomed to make speeches, strong

as words could frame them, against abolition, are now turning round, and, if not preaching abolition, are

patting the backs of those who do so. I heard one of Mr. Lincoln's cabinet declare old John Brown to be a

hero and a martyr. All the Protestant Germans are abolitionistsand they have become so strong a political

element in the country that many now declare that no future President can be elected without their aid. The

object is declared boldly. No long political scheme is asked for, but instant abolition is wanted; abolition to

be declared while yet the war is raging. Let the slaves of all rebels be declared free; and all slaveowners in the

One cannot but ask what abolition means, and to what it would lead. Any ordinance of abolition now

pronounced would not effect the emancipation of the slaves, but might probably effect a servile insurrection.

I will not accuse those who are preaching this crusade of any desire for so fearful a scourge on the land. They

probably calculate that an edict of abolition once given would be so much done toward the ultimate winning

of the battle. They are making their hay while their sun shines. But if they could emancipate those four

million slaves, in what way would they then treat them? How would they feed them? In what way would they

treat the ruined owners of the slaves, and the acres of land which would lie uncultivated? Of all subjects with

which a man may be called on to deal, it is the most difficult. But a New England abolitionist talks of it as

though no more were required than an open path for his humanitarian energies. "I could arrange it all

tomorrow morning," a gentleman said to me, who is well known for his zeal in this cause!

Arrange it all tomorrow morningabolition of slavery having become a fact during the night! I should not

envy that gentleman his morning's work. It was bad enough with us; but what were our numbers compared

with those of the Southern States? We paid a price for the slaves, but no price is to be paid in this case. The

value of the property would probably be lowly estimated at 100l. a piece for men, women, and children, or

4,000,000l. sterling for the whole population. They form the wealth of the South; and if they were bought,

what should be done with them? They are like children. Every slaveowner in the countryevery man who

has had aught to do with slaveswill tell the same story. In Maryland and Delaware are men who hate

slavery, who would be only too happy to enfranchise their slaves; but the negroes who have been slaves are

not fit for freedom. In many cases, practically, they cannot be enfranchised. Give them their liberty, starting

them well in the world at what expense you please, and at the end of six months they will come back upon

your hands for the means of support. Everything must be done for them. They expect food and clothes, and

instruction as to every simple act of life, as do children. The negro domestic servant is handy at his own

work; no servant more so; but he cannot go beyond that. He does not comprehend the object and purport of

continued industry. If he have money, he will play with ithe will amuse himself with it. If he have none, he

will amuse himself without it. His work is like a schoolboy's task; he knows it must be done, but never

comprehends that the doing of it is the very end and essence of his life. He is a child in all things, and the

extent of prudential wisdom to which he ever attains is to disdain emancipation and cling to the security of

his bondage. It is true enough that slavery has been a curse. Whatever may have been its effect on the

The preaching of abolition during the war is to me either the deadliest of sins or the vainest of follies. Its only

immediate result possible would be servile insurrection. That is so manifestly atrocious, a wish for it would

be so hellish, that I do not presume the preachers of abolition to entertain it. But if that be not meant, it must

be intended that an act of emancipation should be carried throughout the slave Stateseither in their

separation from the North, or after their subjection and consequent reunion with the North. As regards the

States while in secession, the North cannot operate upon their slaves any more than England can operate on

the slaves of Cuba. But if a reunion is to be a precursor of emancipation, surely that reunion should be first

effected. A decision in the Northern and Western mind on such a subject cannot assist in obtaining that

reunion, but must militate against the practicability of such an object. This is so well understood that Mr.

* President Lincoln has proposed a plan for the emancipation of slaves in the border States, which gives

compensation to the owners. His doing so proves that he regards present emancipation in the Gulf States as

quite out of the question. It also proves that he looks forward to the recovery of the border States for the

Abolition, in truth, is a political cry. It is the banner of defiance opposed to secession. As the differences

between the North and South have grown with years, and have swelled to the proportions of national

antipathy, Southern nullification has amplified itself into secession, and Northern freesoil principles have

burst into this growth of abolition. Men have not calculated the results. Charming pictures are drawn for you

of the negro in a state of Utopian bliss, owning his own hoe and eating his own hog; in a paradise, where

everything is bought and sold, except his wife, his little ones, and himself. But the enfranchised negro has

always thrown away his hoe, has eaten any man's hog but his own, and has too often sold his daughter for a

I confess that this cry of abolition has been made peculiarly displeasing to me by the fact that the Northern

abolitionist is by no means willing to give even to the negro who is already free that position in the world

which alone might tend to raise him in the scale of human beingsif anything can so raise him and make

him fit for freedom. The abolitionists hold that the negro is the white man's equal. I do not. I see, or think that

I see, that the negro is the white man's inferior through laws of nature. That he is not mentally fit to cope with

white menI speak of the fullblooded negroand that he must fill a position simply servile. But the

abolitionist declares him to be the white man's equal. But yet, when he has him at his elbow, he treats him

with a scorn which even the negro can hardly endure. I will give him political equality, but not social

equality, says the abolitionist. But even in this he is untrue. A black man may vote in New York, but he

cannot vote under the same circumstances as a white man. He is subjected to qualifications which in truth

debar him from the poll. A white man votes by manhood suffrage, providing he has been for one year an

inhabitant of his State; but a man of color must have been for three years a citizen of the State, and must own

a property qualification of 50l. free of debt. But political equality is not what such men want, nor indeed is it

social equality. It is social tolerance and social sympathy, and these are denied to the negro. An American

abolitionist would not sit at table with a negro. He might do so in England at the house of an English duchess,

but in his own country the proposal of such a companion would be an insult to him. He will not sit with him

in a public carriage, if he can avoid it. In New York I have seen special street cars for colored people. The

abolitionist is struck with horror when he thinks that a man and a brother should be a slave; but when the man

and the brother has been made free, he is regarded with loathing and contempt. All this I cannot see with

equanimity. There is falsehood in it from the beginning to the end. The slave, as a rule, is well treatedgets

all he wants and almost all he desires. The free negro, as a rule, is ill treated, and does not get that

consideration which alone might put him in the worldly position for which his advocate declares him to be

fit. It is false throughout, this preaching. The negro is not the white man's equal by nature. But to the free

negro in the Northern States this inequality is increased by the white man's hardness to him.

In a former book which I wrote some few years since, I expressed an opinion as to the probable destiny of

this race in the West Indies. I will not now go over that question again. I then divided the inhabitants of those

islands into three classesthe white, the black, and the colored, taking a nomenclature which I found there

prevailing. By colored men I alluded to mulattoes, and all those of mixed European and African blood. The

word "colored," in the States, seems to apply to the whole negro race, whether fullblooded or halfblooded.

I allude to this now because I wish to explain that, in speaking of what I conceive to be the intellectual

inferiority of the negro race, I allude to those of pure negro descentor of descent so nearly pure as to make

the negro element manifestly predominant. In the West Indies, where I had more opportunity of studying the

subject, I always believed myself able to tell a negro from a colored man. Indeed, the classes are to a great

degree distinct there, the greater portion of the retail trade of the country being in the hands of the colored

people. But in the States I have been able to make no such distinction. One sees generally neither the rich

yellow of the West Indian mulatto nor the deep oily black of the West Indian negro. The prevailing hue is a

dry, dingy brownalmost dusty in its dryness. I have observed but little difference made between the negro

and the halfcasteand no difference in the actual treatment. I have never met in American society any man

or woman in whose veins there can have been presumed to be any taint of African blood. In Jamaica they are

Every Englishman probably looks forward to the accomplishment of abolition of slavery at some future day. I

feel as sure of it as I do of the final judgment. When or how it shall come, I will not attempt to foretell. The

mode which seems to promise the surest success and the least present or future inconvenience, would be an

edict enfranchising all female children born after a certain date, and all their children. Under such an

arrangement the negro population would probably die out slowlyvery slowly. What might then be the fate

of the cotton fields of the Gulf States, who shall dare to say? It may be that coolies from India and from

China will then have taken the place of the negro there, as they probably will have done also in Guiana and

Though I had felt Washington to be disagreeable as a city, yet I was almost sorry to leave it when the day of

my departure came. I had allowed myself a month for my sojourn in the capital, and I had stayed a mouth to

the day. Then came the trouble of packing up, the necessity of calling on a long list of acquaintances one after

another, the feeling that, bad as Washington might be, I might be going to places that were worse, a

conviction that I should get beyond the reach of my letters, and a sort of affection which I had acquired for

my rooms. My landlord, being a colored man, told me that he was sorry I was going. Would I not remain?

Would I come back to him? Had I been comfortable? Only for so and so or so and so, he would have done

better for me. No white American citizen, occupying the position of landlord, would have condescended to

such comfortable words. I knew the man did not in truth want me to stay, as a lady and gentleman were

waiting to go in the moment I went out; but I did not the less value the assurance. One hungers and thirsts

after such civil words among American citizens of this class. The clerks and managers at hotels, the officials

at railway stations, the cashiers at banks, the women in the shopsah! they are the worst of all. An American

woman who is bound by her position to serve youwho is paid in some shape to supply your wants, whether

to sell you a bit of soap or bring you a towel in your bedroom at a hotelis, I think, of all human creatures,

the most insolent. I certainly had a feeling of regret at parting with my colored friend and some regret also

As I drove down Pennsylvania Avenue, through the slush and mud, and saw, perhaps for the last time, those

wretchedly dirty horse sentries who had refused to allow me to trot through the streets, I almost wished that I

could see more of them. How absurd they looked, with a whole kit of rattletraps strapped on their horses'

backs behind themblankets, coats, canteens, coils of rope, and, always at the top of everything else, a tin

pot! No doubt these things are all necessary to a mounted sentry, or they would not have been there; but it

always seemed as though the horse had been loaded gipsyfashion, in a manner that I may perhaps best

describe as higgledypiggledy, and that there was a want of military precision in the packing. The man would

have looked more graceful, and the soldier more warlike, had the pannikin been made to assume some rigidly

fixed position instead of dangling among the ropes. The drawn saber, too, never consorted well with the dirty

outside woolen wrapper which generally hung loose from the man's neck. Heaven knows, I did not begrudge

him his comforter in that cold weather, or even his long, uncombed shock of hair; but I think he might have

been made more spruce, and I am sure that he could not have looked more uncomfortable. As I went,

however, I felt for him a sort of affection, and wished in my heart of hearts that he might soon be enabled to

I went out by the Capitol, and saw that also, as I then believed, for the last time. With all its faults it is a great

building, and, though unfinished, is effective; its very size and pretension give it a certain majesty. What will

be the fate of that vast pile, and of those other costly public edifices at Washington, should the South succeed

wholly in their present enterprise? If Virginia should ever become a part of the Southern republic,

Washington cannot remain the capital of the Northern republic. In such case it would be almost better to let

Maryland go also, so that the future destiny of that unfortunate city may not be a source of trouble, and a

stumblingblock of opprobrium. Even if Virginia be saved, its position will be most unfortunate.

I fancy that the railroads in those days must have been doing a very prosperous business. From New York to

Philadelphia, thence on to Baltimore, and again to Washington, I had found the cars full; so full that sundry

passengers could not find seats. Now, on my return to Baltimore, they were again crowded. The stations were

all crowded. Luggage trains were going in and out as fast as the rails could carry them. Among the passengers

almost half were soldiers. I presume that these were men going on furlough, or on special occasions; for the

regiments were of course not received by ordinary passenger trains. About this time a return was called for by

Congress of all the moneys paid by the government, on account of the army, to the lines between New York

and Washington. Whether or no it was ever furnished I did not hear; but it was openly stated that the colonels

of regiments received large gratuities from certain railway companies for the regiments passing over their

lines. Charges of a similar nature were made against officers, contractors, quartermasters, paymasters,

generals, and cabinet ministers. I am not prepared to say that any of these men had dirty hands. It was not for

me to make inquiries on such matters. But the continuance and universality of the accusations were dreadful.

When everybody is suspected of being dishonest, dishonesty almost ceases to be regarded as disgraceful.

I will allude to a charge made against one member of the cabinet, because the circumstances of the case were

all acknowledged and proved. This gentleman employed his wife's brotherinlaw to buy ships, and the

agent so employed pocketed about 20,000l. by the transaction in six months. The excuse made was that this

profit was in accordance with the usual practice of the shipdealing trade, and that it was paid by the owners

who sold, and not by the government which bought. But in so vast an agency the ordinary rate of profit on

such business became an enormous sum; and the gentleman who made the plea must surely have understood

that that 20,000l. was in fact paid by the government. It is the purchaser, and not the seller, who in fact pays

all such fees. The question is this: Should the government have paid so vast a sum for one man's work for six

months? And if so, was it well that that sum should go into the pocket of a near relative of the minister whose

American private soldiers are not pleasant fellowtravelers. They are loud and noisy, and swear quite as

much as the army could possibly have sworn in Flanders. They are, moreover, very dirty; and each man, with

his long, thick greatcoat, takes up more space than is intended to be allotted to him. Of course I felt that if I

chose to travel in a country while it had such a piece of business on its hands, I could not expect that

everything should be found in exact order. The matter for wonder, perhaps, was that the ordinary affairs of

life were so little disarranged, and that any traveling at all was practicable. Nevertheless, the fact remains that

It was my present intention to go due west across the country into Missouri, skirting, as it were, the line of the

war which had now extended itself from the Atlantic across into Kansas. There were at this time three main

armiesthat of the Potomac, as the army of Virginia was called, of which McClellan held the command; that

of Kentucky, under General Buell, who was stationed at Louisville on the Ohio; and the army on the

Mississippi, which had been under Fremont, and of which General Halleck now held the command. To these

were opposed the three rebel armies of Beauregard, in Virginia; of Johnston, on the borders of Kentucky and

Tennessee; and of Price, in Missouri. There was also a fourth army in Kansas, west of Missouri, under

General Hunter; and while I was in Washington another general, supposed by some to be the "coming man,"

was sent down to Kansas to participate in General Hunter's command. This was General Jim Lane, who

resigned a seat in the Senate in order that he might undertake this military duty. When he reached Kansas,

having on his route made sundry violent abolition speeches, and proclaimed his intention of sweeping slavery

out of the Southwestern States, he came to loggerheads with his superior officer respecting their relative

On my arrival at Baltimore, I found the place kneedeep in mud and slush and halfmelted snow. It was then

raining hard,raining dirt, not water, as it sometimes does. Worse weather for soldiers out in tents could not

be imaginednor for men who were not soldiers, but who, nevertheless, were compelled to leave their

houses. I only remained at Baltimore one day, and then started again, leaving there the greater part of my

baggage. I had a vague hopea hope which I hardly hoped to realizethat I might be able to get through to

the South. At any rate I made myself ready for the chance by making my traveling impediments as light as

possible, and started from Baltimore, prepared to endure all the discomfort which lightness of baggage

entails. My route lay over the Alleghenies, by Pittsburg and Cincinnati, and my first stopping place was at

Harrisburg, the political capital of Pennsylvania. There is nothing special at Harrisburg to arrest any traveler;

but the local legislature of the State was then sitting, and I was desirous of seeing the Senate and

In Pennsylvania the General Assembly, as the joint legislature is called, sits every year, commencing their

work early in January, and continuing till it be finished. The usual period of sitting seems to be about ten

weeks. In the majority of States, the legislature only sits every other year. In this State it sits every year, and

the Representatives are elected annually. The Senators are elected for three years, a third of the body being

chosen each year. The two chambers were ugly, convenient rooms, arranged very much after the fashion of

the halls of Congress at Washington. Each member had his own desk and his own chair. They were placed in

the shape of a horseshoe, facing the chairman, before whom sat three clerks. In neither house did I hear any

set speech. The voices of the Speaker and of the Clerks of the Houses were heard more frequently than those

of the members; and the business seemed to be done in a dull, serviceable, methodical manner, likely to be

useful to the country, and very uninteresting to the gentlemen engaged. Indeed at Washington also, in

Congress, it seemed to me that there was much less of set speeches than in our House of Commons. With us

there are certain men whom it seems impossible to put down, and by whom the time of Parliament is

occupied from night to night, with advantage to no one and with satisfaction to none but themselves. I do not

think that the evil prevails to the same extent in America, either in Congress or in the State legislatures. As

regards Washington, this good result may be assisted by a salutary practice which, as I was assured, prevails

there. A member gets his speech printed at the government cost, and sends it down free by post to his

constituents, without troubling either the House with hearing it or himself with speaking it. I cannot but think

The appearance of the members of the legislature of Pennsylvania did not impress me very favorably. I do not

know why we should wish a legislator to be neat in his dress, and comely, in some degree, in his personal

appearance. There is no good reason, perhaps, why they should have cleaner shirts than their outside

brethren, or have been more particular in the use of soap and water, and brush and comb. But I have an idea

that if ever our own Parliament becomes dirty, it will lose its prestige; and I cannot but think that the

Parliament of Pennsylvania would gain an accession of dignity by some slightly increased devotion to the

Graces. I saw in the two Houses but one gentleman (a Senator) who looked like a Quaker; but even he was a

I paid my respects to the Governor, and found him briskly employed in arranging the appointments of

officers. All the regimental appointments to the volunteer regimentsand that is practically to the whole

body of the army*are made by the State in which the regiments are mustered. When the affair commenced,

the captains and lieutenants were chosen by the men; but it was found that this would not do. When the

skeleton of a State militia only was required, such an arrangement was popular and not essentially injurious;

but now that war had become a reality, and that volunteers were required to obey discipline, some other mode

of promotion was found necessary. As far as I could understand, the appointments were in the hands of the

State Governor, who however was expected, in the selection of the superior officers, to be guided by the

expressed wishes of the regiment, when no objection existed to such a choice. In the present instance the

Governor's course was very thorny. Certain unfinished regiments were in the act of being amalgamated

two perfect regiments being made up from perhaps five imperfect regiments, and so on. But though the

privates had not been forthcoming to the full number for each expected regiment, there had been no such

dearth of officers, and consequently the present operation consisted in reducing their number.

* The army at this time consisted nominally of 660,000 men, of whom only 20,000 were regulars.

Nothing can be much uglier than the State House at Harrisburg, but it commands a magnificent view of one

of the valleys into which the Alleghany Mountains is broken. Harrisburg is immediately under the range,

probably at its finest point, and the railway running west from the town to Pittsburg, Cincinnati, and Chicago,

passes right over the chain. The line has been magnificently engineered, and the scenery is very grand. I went

over the Alleghanies in midwinter, when they were covered with snow, but even when so seen they were very

fine. The view down the valley from Altoona, a point near the summit, must in summer be excessively

lovely. I stopped at Altoona one night, with the object of getting about among the hills and making the best of

the winter view but I found it impossible to walk. The snow had become frozen and was like glass. I could

not progress a mile in any way. With infinite labor I climbed to the top of one little hill, and when there

became aware that the descent would be very much more difficult. I did get down, but should not choose to

In running down the mountains to Pittsburg an accident occurred which in any other country would have

thrown the engine off the line, and have reduced the carriages behind the engine to a heap of ruins. But here it

had no other effect than that of delaying us for three or four hours. The tire of one of the heavy driving

wheels flew off, and in the shock the body of the wheel itself was broken, one spoke and a portion of the

circumference of the wheel was carried away, and the steamchamber was ripped open. Nevertheless the

train was pulled up, neither the engine nor any of the carriages got off the line, and the men in charge of the

train seemed to think very lightly of the matter. I was amused to see how little was made of the affair by any

of the passengers. In England a delay of three hours would in itself produce a great amount of grumbling, or

at least many signs of discomfort and temporary unhappiness. But here no one said a word. Some of the

younger men got out and looked at the ruined wheel; but the most of the passengers kept their seats, chewed

their tobacco, and went to sleep. In all such matters an American is much more patient than an Englishman.

To sit quiet, without speech, and ruminate in some contorted position of body comes to him by nature. On

this occasion I did not hear a word of complaintnor yet a word of surprise or thankfulness that the accident

had been attended with no serious result. "I have got a furlough for ten days," one soldier said to me, "and I

have missed every connection all through from Washington here. I shall have just time to turn round and go

back when I get home." But he did not seem to be in any way dissatisfied. He had not referred to his relatives

when he spoke of "missing his connections," but to his want of good fortune as regarded railway traveling.

He had reached Baltimore too late for the train on to Harrisburg, and Harrisburg too late for the train on to

Pittsburg. Now he must again reach Pittsburg too late for his further journey. But nevertheless he seemed to

Pittsburg is the MerthyrTydvil of Pennsylvaniaor perhaps I should better describe it as an amalgamation

of Swansea, MerthyrTydvil, and South Shields. It is, without exception, the blackest place which I ever saw.

The three English towns which I have named are very dirty, but all their combined soot and grease and

dinginess do not equal that of Pittsburg. As regards scenery it is beautifully situated, being at the foot of the

Alleghany Mountains, and at the juncture of the two rivers Monongahela and Alleghany. Here, at the town,

they come together, and form the River Ohio. Nothing can be more picturesque than the site, for the spurs of

the mountains come down close round the town, and the rivers are broad and swift, and can be seen for miles

from heights which may be reached in a short walk. Even the filth and wondrous blackness of the place are

picturesque when looked down upon from above. The tops of the churches are visible, and some of the larger

buildings may be partially traced through the thick, brown, settled smoke. But the city itself is buried in a

dense cloud. The atmosphere was especially heavy when I was there, and the effect was probably increased

by the general darkness of the weather. The Monongahela is crossed by a fine bridge, and on the other side

the ground rises at once, almost with the rapidity of a precipice; so that a commanding view is obtained down

upon the town and the two rivers and the different bridges, from a height immediately above them. I was

never more in love with smoke and dirt than when I stood here and watched the darkness of night close in

upon the floating soot which hovered over the housetops of the city. I cannot say that I saw the sun set, for

there was no sun. I should say that the sun never shone at Pittsburg, as foreigners who visit London in

Walking along the river side I counted thirtytwo steamers, all beached upon the shore, with their bows

toward the landlarge boats, capable probably of carrying from one to two hundred passengers each, and

about three hundred tons of merchandise. On inquiry I found that many of these were not now at work. They

were resting idle, the trade down the Mississippi below St. Louis having been cut off by the war. Many of

them, however, were still running, the passage down the river being open to Wheeling in Virginia, to

Portsmouth, Cincinnati, and the whole of South Ohio, to Louisville in Kentucky, and to Cairo in Illinois,

where the Ohio joins the Mississippi. The amount of traffic carried on by these boats while the country was at

peace within itself was very great, and conclusive as to the increasing prosperity of the people. It seems that

everybody travels in America, and that nothing is thought of distance. A young man will step into a car and

sit beside you, with that easy careless air which is common to a railway passenger in England who is passing

from one station to the next; and on conversing with him you will find that he is going seven or eight hundred

miles. He is supplied with fresh newspapers three or four times a day as he passes by the towns at which they

are published; he eats a large assortment of gumdrops and apples, and is quite as much at home as in his

own house. On board the river boats it is the same with him, with this exception, that when there he can get

whisky when he wants it. He knows nothing of the ennui of traveling, and never seems to long for the end of

his journey, as travelers do with us. Should his boat come to grief upon the river, and lay by for a day or a

night, it does not in the least disconcert him. He seats himself upon three chairs, takes a bite of tobacco,

thrusts his hand into his trowsers pockets, and revels in an elysium of his own.

I was told that the stockholders in these boats were in a bad way at the present time. There were no dividends

going. The same story was repeated as to many and many an investment. Where the war created business, as

it had done on some of the main lines of railroad and in some special towns, money was passing very freely;

but away from this, ruin seemed to have fallen on the enterprise of the country. Men were not broken hearted,

nor were they even melancholy; but they were simply ruined. That is nothing in the States, so long as the

ruined man has the means left to him of supplying his daily wants till he can start himself again in life. It is

almost the normal condition of the American man in business; and therefore I am inclined to think that when

this war is over, and things begin to settle themselves into new grooves, commerce will recover herself more

quickly there than she would do among any other people. It is so common a thing to hear of an enterprise that

has never paid a dollar of interest on the original outlayof hotels, canals, railroads, banks, blocks of houses,

etc. that never paid even in the happy days of peacethat one is tempted to disregard the absence of

dividends, and to believe that such a trifling accident will not act as any check on future speculation. In no

country has pecuniary ruin been so common as in the States; but then in no country is pecuniary ruin so little

ruinous. "We are a recuperative people," a westcountry gentleman once said to me. I doubted the propriety

Pittsburg and Alleghanywhich latter is a town similar in its nature to Pittsburg, on the other side of the

river of the same nameregard themselves as places apart; but they are in effect one and the same city. They

live under the same blanket of soot, which is woven by the joint efforts of the two places. Their united

population is 135,000, of which Alleghany owns about 50,000. The industry of the towns is of that sort which

arises from a union of coal and iron in the vicinity. The Pennsylvanian coal fields are the most prolific in the

Union; and Pittsburg is therefore great, exactly as MerthyrTydvil and Birmingham are great. But the

foundery work at Pittsburg is more nearly allied to the heavy, rough works of the Welsh coal metropolis than

"Why cannot you consume your own smoke?" I asked a gentleman there. "Fuel is so cheap that it would not

pay," he answered. His idea of the advantage of consuming smoke was confined to the question of its paying

as a simple operation in itself. The consequent cleanliness and improvement in the atmosphere had not

entered into his calculations. Any such result might be a fortuitous benefit, but was not of sufficient

importance to make any effort in that direction expedient on its own account. "Coal was burned," he said, "in

the founderies at something less than two dollars a ton; while that was the case, it could not answer the

purpose of any iron founder to put up an apparatus for the consumption of smoke?" I did not pursue the

argument any further, as I perceived that we were looking at the matter from two different points of view.

Everything in the hotel was black; not black to the eye, for the eye teaches itself to discriminate colors even

when loaded with dirt, but black to the touch. On coming out of a tub of water my foot took an impress from

the carpet exactly as it would have done had I trod barefooted on a path laid with soot. I thought that I was

turning negro upward, till I put my wet hand upon the carpet, and found that the result was the same. And yet

the carpet was green to the eyea dull, dingy green, but still green. "You shouldn't damp your feet," a man

said to me, to whom I mentioned the catastrophe. Certainly, Pittsburg is the dirtiest place I ever saw; but it is,

as I said before, very picturesque in its dirt when looked at from above the blanket.

From Pittsburg I went on by train to Cincinnati, and was soon in the State of Ohio. I confess that I have never

felt any great regard for Pennsylvania. It has always had, in my estimation, a low character for commercial

honesty, and a certain flavor of pretentious hypocrisy. This probably has been much owing to the acerbity and

pungency of Sydney Smith's witty denunciations against the drabcolored State. It is noted for repudiation of

its own debts, and for sharpness in exaction of its own bargains. It has been always smart in banking. It has

given Buchanan as a President to the country, and Cameron as a Secretary of War to the government! When

the battle of Bull's Run was to be fought, Pennsylvanian soldiers were the men who, on that day, threw down

their arms because the three months' term for which they had been enlisted was then expired! Pennsylvania

does not, in my mind, stand on a par with Massachusetts, Connecticut, New York, Illinois, or Virginia. We

are apt to connect the name of Benjamin Franklin with Pennsylvania, but Franklin was a Boston man.

Nevertheless, Pennsylvania is rich and prosperous. Indeed it bears all those marks which Quakers generally

I had some little personal feeling in visiting Cincinnati, because my mother had lived there for some time,

and had there been concerned in a commercial enterprise, by which no one, I believe, made any great sum of

money. Between thirty and forty years ago she built a bazaar in Cincinnati, which, I was assured by the

present owner of the house, was at the time of its erection considered to be the great building of the town. It

has been sadly eclipsed now, and by no means rears its head proudly among the great blocks around it. It had

become a "Physiomedical Institute" when I was there, and was under the dominion of a quack doctor on one

side, and of a college of rights of women female medical professors on the other. "I believe, sir, no man or

woman ever yet made a dollar in that building; and as for rent, I don't even expect it." Such was the account

Cincinnati has long been known as a great townconspicuous among all towns for the number of hogs

which are there killed, salted, and packed. It is the great hog metropolis of the Western States; but Cincinnati

has not grown with the rapidity of other towns. It has now 170,000 inhabitants, but then it got an early start.

St. Louis, which is west of it again near the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi, has gone ahead of it.

Cincinnati stands on the Ohio River, separated by a ferry from Kentucky, which is a slave State, Ohio itself is

a freesoil State. When the time comes for arranging the line of division, if such time shall ever come, it will

be very hard to say where Northern feeling ends and where Southern wishes commence. Newport and

Covington, which are in Kentucky, are suburbs of Cincinnati; and yet in these places slavery is rife. The

domestic servants are mostly slaves, though it is essential that those so kept should be known as slaves who

will not run away. It is understood that a slave who escapes into Ohio will not be caught and given up by the

intervention of the Ohio police; and from Covington or Newport any slave with ease can escape into Ohio.

But when that division takes place, no river like the Ohio can form the boundary between the divided nations.

Such rivers are the highways, round which in this country people have clustered themselves. A river here is

not a natural barrier, but a connecting street. It would be as well to make a railway a division, or the center

line of a city a national boundary. Kentucky and Ohio States are joined together by the Ohio River, with

Cincinnati on one side and Louisville on the other; and I do not think that man's act can upset these ties of

nature. But between Kentucky and Tennessee there is no such bond of union. There a mathematical line has

been simply drawn, a continuation of that line which divides Virginia from North Carolina, to which two

latter States Kentucky and Tennessee belonged when the thirteen original States first formed themselves into

a Union. But that mathematical line has offered no peculiar advantages to population. No great towns cluster

there, and no strong social interests would be dissevered should Kentucky throw in her lot with the North,

and Tennessee with the South; but Kentucky owns a quarter of a million of slaves, and those slaves must

The great business of Cincinnati is hog killing now, as it used to be in the old days of which I have so often

heard. It seems to be an established fact, that in this portion of the world the porcine genus are all hogs. One

never hears of a pig. With us a trade in hogs and pigs is subject to some little contumely. There is a feeling,

which has perhaps never been expressed in words, but which certainly exists, that these animals are not so

honorable in their bearings as sheep and oxen. It is a prejudice which by no means exists in Cincinnati. There

hog killing and salting and packing is very honorable, and the great men in the trade are the merchant princes

of the city. I went to see the performance, feeling it to be a duty to inspect everywhere that which I found to

be of most importance; but I will not describe it. There were a crowd of men operating, and I was told that the

point of honor was to "put through" a hog a minute. It must be understood that the animal enters upon the

ceremony alive, and comes out in that cleanly, disemboweled guise in which it may sometimes be seen

hanging up previous to the operation of the pork butcher's knife. To one special man was appointed a

performance which seemed to be specially disagreeable, so that he appeared despicable in my eyes; but when

on inquiry I learned that he earned five dollars (or a pound sterling) a day, my judgment as to his position was

reversed. And, after all, what matters the ugly nature of such an occupation when a man is used to it?

Cincinnati is like all other American towns, with second, third, and fourth streets, seventh, eighth, and ninth

streets, and so on. Then the cross streets are named chiefly from trees. Chestnut, walnut, locust, etc. I do not

know whence has come this fancy for naming streets after trees in the States, but it is very general. The town

is well built, with good fronts to many of the houses, with large shops and larger stores; of course also with

an enormous hotel, which has never paid anything like a proper dividend to the speculator who built it. It is

always the same story. But these towns shame our provincial towns by their breadth and grandeur. I am afraid

that speculators with us are trammeled by an "ignorant impatience of ruin." I should not myself like to live in

Cincinnati or in any of these towns. They are slow, dingy, and uninteresting; but they all possess an air of

substantial, civic dignity. It must, however, be remembered that the Americans live much more in towns than

we do. All with us that are rich and aristocratic and luxurious live in the country, frequenting the metropolis

for only a portion of the year. But all that are rich and aristocratic and luxurious in the States live in the

towns. Our provincial towns are not generally chosen as the residences of our higher classes.

Cincinnati has 170,000 inhabitants, and there are 14,000 children at the free schoolswhich is about one in

twelve of the whole population. This number gives the average of scholars throughout the year ended 30th of

June, 1861. But there are other schools in Cincinnatiparish schools and private schoolsand it is stated to

me that there were in all 32,000 children attending school in the city throughout the year. The education at the

State schools is very good. Thirtyfour teachers are employed, at an average salary of 92l. each, ranging from

260l. to 60l. per annum. It is in this matter of education that the cities of the free States of America have done

so much for the civilization and welfare of their population. This fact cannot be repeated in their praise too

often. Those who have the management of affairs, who are at the top of the tree, are desirous of giving to all

an opportunity of raising themselves in the scale of human beings. I dislike universal suffrage; I dislike votes

by ballot; I dislike above all things the tyranny of democracy. But I do like the political feelingfor it is a

political feelingwhich induces every educated American to lend a hand to the education of his

fellowcitizens. It shows, if nothing else does so, a germ of truth in that doctrine of equality. It is a doctrine

to be forgiven when he who preaches it is in truth striving to raise others to his own level; though utterly

Leaving Cincinnati, I again entered a slave Statenamely, Kentucky. When the war broke out, Kentucky

took upon itself to say that it would be neutral, as if neutrality in such a position could by any means have

been possible! Neutrality on the borders of secession, on the battlefield of the coming contest, was of course

impossible. Tennessee, to the south, had joined the South by a regular secession ordinance. Ohio, Illinois, and

Indiana, to the north, were of course true to the Union. Under these circumstances it became necessary that

Kentucky should choose her side. With the exception of the little State of Delaware, in which from her

position secession would have been impossible, Kentucky was, I think, less inclined to rebellion, more

desirous of standing by the North, than any other of the slave States. She did all she could, however, to put

off the evil day of so evil a choice. Abolition within her borders was held to be abominable as strongly as it

was so held in Georgia. She had no sympathy, and could have none, with the teachings and preachings of

Massachusetts. But she did not wish to belong to a confederacy of which the Northern States were to be the

declared enemy, and be the border State of the South under such circumstances. She did all she could for

personal neutrality. She made that effort for general reconciliation of which I have spoken as the Crittenden

Compromise. But compromises and reconciliation were not as yet possible, and therefore it was necessary

that she should choose her part. Her governor declared for secession, and at first also her legislature was

inclined to follow the governor. But no overt act of secession by the State was committed, and at last it was

decided that Kentucky should be declared to be loyal. It was in fact divided. Those on the southern border

joined the secessionists; whereas the greater portion of the State, containing Frankfort, the capital, and the

wouldbe secessionist governor, who lived there, joined the North. Men in fact became Unionists or

secessionists not by their own conviction, but through the necessity of their positions; and Kentucky, through

I must confess that the difficulty of the position of the whole country seems to me to have been

underestimated in England. In common life it is not easy to arrange the circumstances of a divorce between

man and wife, all whose belongings and associations have for many years been in common. Their children,

their money, their house, their friends, their secrets have been joint property, and have formed bonds of

union. But yet such quarrels may arise, such mutual antipathy, such acerbity and even ill usage, that all who

know them admit that a separation is needed. So it is here in the States. Free soil and slave soil could, while

both were young and unused to power, go on togethernot without many jars and unhappy bickerings, but

they did go on together. But now they must part; and how shall the parting be made? With which side shall

go this child, and who shall remain in possession of that pleasant homestead? Putting secession aside, there

were in the United States two distinct political doctrines, of which the extremes were opposed to each other

as pole is opposed to pole. We have no such variance of creed, no such radical difference as to the essential

rules of life between parties in our country. We have no such cause for personal rancor in our Parliament as

has existed for some years past in both Houses of Congress. These two extreme parties were the slaveowners

of the South and the abolitionists of the North and West. Fifty years ago the former regarded the institution of

slavery as a necessity of their positiongenerally as an evil necessity, and generally also as a custom to be

removed in the course of years. Gradually they have learned to look upon slavery as good in itself, and to

believe that it has been the source of their wealth and the strength of their position. They have declared it to

be a blessing inalienable, that should remain among them forever as an inheritance not to be touched and not

to be spoken of with hard words. Fifty years ago the abolitionists of the North differed only in opinion from

the slave owners of the South in hoping for a speedier end to this stain upon the nation, and in thinking that

some action should be taken toward the final emancipation of the bondsmen. But they also have progressed;

and, as the Southern masters have called the institution blessed, they have called it accursed. Their numbers

have increased, and with their numbers their power and their violence. In this way two parties have been

formed who could not look on each other without hatred. An intermediate doctrine has been held by men who

were nearer in their sympathies to the slaveowners than to the abolitionists, but who were not disposed to

justify slavery as a thing apart. These men have been aware that slavery has existed in accordance with the

Constitution of their country, and have been willing to attach the stain which accompanies the institution to

the individual State which entertains it, and not to the national government by which the question has been

constitutionally ignored. The men who have participated in the government have naturally been inclined

toward the middle doctrine; but as the two extremes have retreated farther from each other, the power of this

middle class of politicians has decreased. Mr. Lincoln, though he does not now declare himself an

abolitionist, was elected by the abolitionists; and when, as a consequence of that election, secession was

threatened, no step which he could have taken would have satisfied the South which had opposed him, and

been at the same time true to the North which had chosen him. But it was possible that his government might

save Maryland, Virginia, Kentucky, and Missouri. As Radicals in England become simple Whigs when they

are admitted into public offices, so did Mr. Lincoln with his government become antiabolitionist when he

entered on his functions. Had he combated secession with emancipation of the slaves, no slave State would or

could have held by the Union. Abolition for a lecturer may be a telling subject. It is easy to bring down

rounds of applause by tales of the wrongs of bondage. But to men in office abolition was too stern a reality. It

signified servile insurrection, absolute ruin to all Southern slaveowners, and the absolute enmity of every

But that task of steering between the two has been very difficult. I fear that the task of so steering with

success is almost impossible. In England it is thought that Mr. Lincoln might have maintained the Union by

compromising matters with the Southor, if not so, that he might have maintained peace by yielding to the

South. But no such power was in his hands. While we were blaming him for opposition to all Southern terms,

his own friends in the North were saying that all principle and truth was abandoned for the sake of such

States as Kentucky and Missouri. "Virginia is gone; Maryland cannot go. And slavery is endured, and the

new virtue of Washington is made to tamper with the evil one, in order that a show of loyalty may be

preserved in one or two States which, after all, are not truly loyal!" That is the accusation made against the

government by the abolitionists; and that made by us, on the other side, is the reverse. I believe that Mr.

Lincoln had no alternative but to fight, and that he was right also not to fight with abolition as his battlecry.

That he may be forced by his own friends into that cry, is, I fear, still possible. Kentucky, at any rate, did not

secede in bulk. She still sent her Senators to Congress. and allowed herself to be reckoned among the stars in

the American firmament. But she could not escape the presence of the war. Did she remain loyal, or did she

The day before I entered Kentucky a battle was fought in that State, which gave to the Northern arms their

first actual victory. It was at a place called Mill Spring, near Somerset, toward the south of the State. General

Zollicoffer, with a Confederate army numbering, it was supposed, some eight thousand men, had advanced

upon a smaller Federal force, commanded by General Thomas, and had been himself killed, while his army

was cut to pieces and dispersed; the cannon of the Confederates were taken, and their camp seized and

destroyed. Their rout was complete; but in this instance again the advancing party had been beaten, as had, I

believe, been the case in all the actions hitherto fought throughout the war. Here, however, had been an actual

victory, and, it was not surprising that in Kentucky loyal men should rejoice greatly, and begin to hope that

the Confederates would be beaten out of the State. Unfortunately, however, General Zollicoffer's army had

only been an offshoot from the main rebel army in Kentucky. Buell, commanding the Federal troops at

Louisville, and Sydney Johnston, the Confederate general, at Bowling Green, as yet remained opposite to

I visited the little towns of Lexington and Frankfort, in Kentucky. At the former I found in the hotel to which

I went seventyfive teamsters belonging to the army. They were hanging about the great hall when I entered,

and clustering round the stove in the middle of the chamber; a dirty, rough, quaint set of men, clothed in a

wonderful variety of garbs, but not disorderly or loud. The landlord apologized for their presence, alleging

that other accommodation could not be found for them in the town. He received, he said, a dollar a day for

feeding them, and for supplying them with a place in which they could lie down. It did not pay him, but what

could he do? Such an apology from an American landlord was in itself a surprising fact. Such high

functionaries are, as a rule, men inclined to tell a traveler that if he does not like the guests among whom he

finds himself, he may go elsewhere. But this landlord had as yet filled the place for not more than two or

three weeks, and was unused to the dignity of his position. While I was at supper, the seventyfive teamsters

were summoned into the common eatingroom by a loud gong, and sat down to their meal at the public table.

They were very dirty; I doubt whether I ever saw dirtier men; but they were orderly and well behaved, and

but for their extreme dirt might have passed as the ordinary occupants of a well filled hotel in the West.

Such men, in the States, are less clumsy with their knives and forks, less astray in an unused position, more

intelligent in adapting themselves to a new life than are Englishmen of the same rank. It is always the same

story. With us there is no level of society. Men stand on a long staircase, but the crowd congregates near the

bottom, and the lower steps are very broad. In America men stand upon a common platform, but the platform

is raised above the ground, though it does not approach in height the top of our staircase. If we take the

average altitude in the two countries, we shall find that the American heads are the more elevated of the two.

I conceived rather an affection for those dirty teamsters; they answered me civilly when I spoke to them, and

sat in quietness, smoking their pipes, with a dull and dirty but orderly demeanor.

The country about Lexington is called the Blue Grass Region, and boasts itself as of peculiar fecundity in the

matter of pasturage. Why the grass is called blue, or in what way or at what period it becomes blue, I did not

learn; but the country is very lovely and very fertile. Between Lexington and Frankfort a large stock farm,

extending over three thousand acres, is kept by a gentleman who is very well known as a breeder of horses,

cattle, and sheep. He has spent much money on it, and is making for himself a Kentucky elysium. He was

kind enough to entertain me for awhile, and showed me something of country life in Kentucky. A farm in that

part of the State depends, and must depend, chiefly on slave labor. The slaves are a material part of the estate,

and as they are regarded by the law as real propertybeing actually adstricti glebaean inheritor of land

has no alternative but to keep them. A gentleman in Kentucky does not sell his slaves. To do so is considered

to be low and mean, and is opposed to the aristocratic traditions of the country. A man who does so willingly,

puts himself beyond the pale of good fellowship with his neighbors. A sale of slaves is regarded as a sign

almost of bankruptcy. If a man cannot pay his debts, his creditors can step in and sell his slaves; but he does

not himself make the sale. When a man owns more slaves than he needs, he hires them out by the year; and

when he requires more than he owns, he takes them on hire by the year. Care is taken in such hirings not to

remove a married man away from his home. The price paid for a negro's labor at the time of my visit was

about a hundred dollars, or twenty pounds for the year; but this price was then extremely low in consequence

of the war disturbances. The usual price had been about fifty or sixty per cent. above this. The man who takes

the negro on hire feeds him, clothes him, provides him with a bed, and supplies him with medical attendance.

I went into some of their cottages on the estate which I visited, and was not in the least surprised to find them

preferable in size, furniture, and all material comforts to the dwellings of most of our own agricultural

laborers. Any comparison between the material comfort of a Kentucky slave and an English ditcher and

delver would be preposterous. The Kentucky slave never wants for clothing fitted to the weather. He eats

meat twice a day, and has three good meals; he knows no limit but his own appetite; his work is light; he has

many varieties of amusement; he has instant medical assistance at all periods of necessity for himself, his

wife, and his children. Of course he pays no rent, fears no baker, and knows no hunger. I would not have it

supposed that I conceive slavery with all these comforts to be equal to freedom without them; nor do I

conceive that the negro can be made equal to the white man. But in discussing the condition of the negro, it is

necessary that we should understand what are the advantages of which abolition would deprive him, and in

what condition he has been placed by the daily receipt of such advantages. If a negro slave wants new shoes,

he asks for them, and receives them, with the undoubting simplicity of a child. Such a state of things has its

picturesquely patriarchal side; but what would be the state of such a man if he were emancipated tomorrow?

The natural beauty of the place which I was visiting was very great. The trees were fine and well scattered

over the large, parklike pastures, and the ground was broken on every side into hills. There was perhaps too

much timber, but my friend seemed to think that that fault would find a natural remedy only too quickly. "I

do not like to cut down trees if I can help it," he said. After that I need not say that my host was quite as much

an Englishman as an American. To the purely American farmer a tree is simply an enemy to be trodden under

foot, and buried underground, or reduced to ashes and thrown to the winds with what most economical

dispatch may be possible. If water had been added to the landscape here it would have been perfect, regarding

it as ordinary English parkscenery. But the little rivers at this place have a dirty trick of burying themselves

under the ground. They go down suddenly into holes, disappearing from the upper air, and then come up

again at the distance of perhaps half a mile. Unfortunately their periods of seclusion are more prolonged than

those of their upperair distance. There were three or four such ascents and descents about the place.

My host was a breeder of racehorses, and had imported sires from England; of sheep also, and had imported

famous rams; of cattle too, and was great in bulls. He was very loud in praise of Kentucky and its attractions,

if only this war could be brought to an end. But I could not obtain from him an assurance that the speculation

in which he was engaged had been profitable. Ornamental farming in England is a very pretty amusement for

a wealthy man, but I fancywithout intending any slight on Mr. Mechithat the amusement is expensive. I

Frankfort is the capital of Kentucky, and is as quietly dull a little town as I ever entered. It is on the River

Kentucky, and as the grounds about it on every side rise in wooded hills, it is a very pretty place. In January it

was very pretty, but in summer it must be lovely. I was taken up to the cemetery there by a path along the

river, and am inclined to say that it is the sweetest restingplace for the dead that I have ever visited. Daniel

Boone lies there. He was the first white man who settled in Kentucky; or rather, perhaps, the first who

entered Kentucky with a view to a white man's settlement. Such frontier men as was Daniel Boone never

remained long contented with the spots they opened. As soon as he had left his mark in that territory he went

again farther west, over the big rivers into Missouri, and there he died. But the men of Kentucky are proud of

Daniel Boone, and so they have buried him in the loveliest spot they could select, immediately over the river.

Frankfort is worth a visit, if only that this grave and graveyard may be seen. The legislature of the State was

Louisville is the commercial city of the State, and stands on the Ohio. It is another great town, like all the

others, built with high stores, and great houses and stonefaced blocks. I have no doubt that all the building

speculations have been failures, and that the men engaged in them were all ruined. But there, as the result of

their labor, stands a fair great city on the southern banks of the Ohio. Here General Buell held his

headquarters, but his army lay at a distance. On my return from the West I visited one of the camps of this

army, and will speak of it as I speak of my backward journey. I had already at this time begun to conceive an

opinion that the armies in Kentucky and in Missouri would do at any rate as much for the Northern cause as

While I was at Louisville the Ohio was flooded. It had begun to rise when I was at Cincinnati, and since then

had gone on increasing hourly, rising inch by inch up into the towns upon its bank. I visited two suburbs of

Louisville, both of which were submerged, as to the streets and ground floors of the houses. At Shipping Port,

one of these suburbs, I saw the women and children clustering in the upstairs room, while the men were

going about in punts and wherries, collecting driftwood from the river for their winter's firing. In some

places bedding and furniture had been brought over to the high ground, and the women were sitting, guarding

their little property. That village, amid the waters, was a sad sight to see; but I heard no complaints. There

was no tearing of hair and no gnashing of teeth; no bitter tears or moans of sorrow. The men who were not at

work in the boats stood loafing about in clusters, looking at the still rising river, but each seemed to be

personally indifferent to the matter. When the house of an American is carried down the river, he builds

himself another, as he would get himself a new coat when his old coat became unserviceable. But he never

laments or moans for such a loss. Surely there is no other people so passive under personal misfortune!

Going from Louisville up to St. Louis, I crossed the Ohio River and passed through parts of Indiana and of

Illinois, and, striking the Mississippi opposite St. Louis, crossed that river also, and then entered the State of

Missouri. The Ohio was, as I have said, flooded, and we went over it at night. The boat had been moored at

some unaccustomed place. There was no light. The road was deep in mud up to the axletree, and was

crowded with wagons and carts, which in the darkness of the night seemed to have stuck there. But the man

drove his four horses through it all, and into the ferry boat, over its side. There were three or four such

omnibuses, and as many wagons, as to each of which I predicted in my own mind some fatal catastrophe. But

they were all driven on to the boat in the dark, the horses mixing in through each other in a chaos which

would have altogether incapacitated any English coachman. And then the vessel labored across the flood,

going sideways, and hardly keeping her own against the stream. But we did get over, and were all driven out

again, up to the railway station in safety. On reaching the Mississippi about the middle of the next day, we

found it frozen over, or rather covered from side to side with blocks of ice which had forced their way down

the river, so that the steamferry could not reach its proper landing. I do not think that we in England would

have attempted the feat of carrying over horses and carriages under stress of such circumstances. But it was

done here. Huge plankings were laid down over the ice, and omnibuses and wagons were driven on. In

getting out again, these vehicles, each with four horses, had to be twisted about, and driven in and across the

vessel, and turned in spaces to look at which would have broken the heart of an English coachman. And then

with a spring they were driven up a bank as steep as a ladder! Ah me! under what mistaken illusions have I

not labored all the days of my youth, in supposing that no man could drive four horses well but an English

stage coachman! I have seen performances in Americaand in Italy and France also, but above all in

Americawhich would have made the hair of any English professional driver stand on end.

Missouri is a slave State, lying to the west of the Mississippi and to the north of Arkansas. It forms a portion

of the territory ceded by France to the United States in 1803. Indeed, it is difficult to say how large a portion

of the continent of North America is supposed to be included in that territory. It contains the States of

Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas, as also the present Indian Territory; but it also is said to have

contained all the land lying back from them to the Rocky Mountains, Utah, Nebraska, and Dakota, and forms

Missouri lies exactly north of the old Missouri compromise line that is, 36.30 north. When the Missouri

compromise was made it was arranged that Missouri should be a slave State, but that no other State north of

the 36.30 line should ever become slave soil. Kentucky and Virginia, as also of course Maryland and

Delaware, four of the old slave States, were already north of that line; but the compromise was intended to

prevent the advance of slavery in the Northwest. The compromise has been since annulled, on the ground, I

believe, that Congress had not constitutionally the power to declare that any soil should be free, or that any

should be slave soil. That is a question to be decided by the States themselves, as each individual State may

please. So the compromise was repealed. But slavery has not on that account advanced. The battle has been

fought in Kansas, and, after a long and terrible struggle, Kansas has come out of the fight as a free State.

Kansas is in the same parallel of latitude as Virginia, and stretches west as far as the Rocky Mountains,

When the census of the population of Missouri was taken in 1860, the slaves amounted to ten per cent. of the

whole number. In the Gulf States the slave population is about fortyfive per cent. of the whole. In the three

border States of Kentucky, Virginia, and Maryland, the slaves amount to thirty per cent. of the whole

population. From these figures it will be seen that Missouri, which is comparatively a new slave State, has

not gone ahead with slavery as the old slave States have done, although from its position and climate, lying as

far south as Virginia, it might seem to have had the same reasons for doing so. I think there is every reason to

believe that slavery will die out in Missouri. The institution is not popular with the people generally; and as

white labor becomes abundantand before the war it was becoming abundantmen recognize the fact that

the white man's labor is the more profitable. The heat in this State, in midsummer, is very great, especially in

the valleys of the rivers. At St. Louis, on the Mississippi, it reaches commonly to ninety degrees, and very

frequently goes above that. The nights, moreover, are nearly as hot as the days; but this great heat does not

last for any very long period, and it seems that white men are able to work throughout the year. If

correspondingly severe weather in winter affords any compensation to the white man for what of heat he

endures during the summer, I can testify that such compensation is to be found in Missouri. When I was there

we were afflicted with a combination of snow, sleet, frost, and wind, with a mixture of ice and mud, that

makes me regard Missouri as the most inclement land into which I ever penetrated.

St. Louis, on the Mississippi, is the great town of Missouri, and is considered by the Missourians to be the

star of the West. It is not to be beaten in population, wealth, or natural advantages by any other city so far

west; but it has not increased with such rapidity as Chicago, which is considerably to the north of it, on Lake

Michigan. Of the great Western cities I regard Chicago as the most remarkable, seeing that St. Louis was a

The population of St. Louis is 170,000. Of this number only 2000 are slaves. I was told that a large

proportion of the slaves of Missouri are employed near the Missouri River in breaking hemp. The growth of

hemp is very profitably carried on in that valley, and the labor attached to it is one which white men do not

like to encounter. Slaves are not generally employed in St. Louis for domestic service as is done almost

universally in the towns of Kentucky. This work is chiefly in the hands of Irish and Germans. Considerably

above onethird of the population of the whole city is made up of these two nationalities. So much is

confessed; but if I were to form an opinion from the language I heard in the streets of the town, I should say

St. Louis has none of the aspects of a slave city. I cannot say that I found it an attractive place; but then I did

not visit it at an attractive time. The war had disturbed everything, given a special color of its own to men's

thoughts and words, and destroyed all interest except that which might proceed from itself. The town is well

built, with good shops, straight streets, neverending rows of excellent houses, and every sign of commercial

wealth and domestic comfortof commercial wealth and domestic comfort in the past, for there was no

present appearance either of comfort or of wealth. The new hotel here was to be bigger than all the hotels of

all other towns. It is built, and is an enormous pile, and would be handsome but for a terribly ambitious

Grecian doorway. It is built, as far as the walls and roof are concerned, but in all other respects is unfinished.

I was told that the shares of the original stockholders were now worth nothing. A shareholder, who so told

The great glory of the town is the "levee," as it is called, or the long river beach up to which the steamers are

brought with their bows to the shore. It is an esplanade looking on to the river, not built with quays or

wharves, as would be the case with us, but with a sloping bank running down to the water. In the good days

of peace a hundred vessels were to be seen here, each with its double funnels. The line of them seemed to be

never ending even when I was there, but then a very large proportion of them were lying idle. They resemble

huge, wooden houses, apparently of frail architecture, floating upon the water. Each has its double row of

balconies running round it, and the lower or ground floor is open throughout. The upper stories are propped

and supported on ugly sticks and ricketylooking beams; so that the first appearance does not convey any

great idea of security to a stranger. They are always painted white, and the paint is always very dirty. When

they begin to move, they moan and groan in melancholy tones which are subversive of all comfort; and as

they continue on their courses they puff and bluster, and are forever threatening to burst and shatter

themselves to pieces. There they lie, in a continuous line nearly a mile in length, along the levee of St. Louis,

dirty, dingy, and now, alas! mute. They have ceased to groan and puff, and, if this war be continued for six

They boast at St. Louis that they command 46,000 miles of navigable river water, counting the great rivers up

and down from that place. These rivers are chiefly the Mississippi; the Missouri and Ohio, which fall into the

Mississippi near St. Louis; the Platte and Kansas Rivers, tributaries of the Missouri; the Illinois, and the

Wisconsin. All these are open to steamers, and all of them traverse regions rich in corn, in coal, in metals, or

in timber. These readymade highways of the world center, as it were, at St. Louis, and make it the depot of

the carrying trade of all that vast country. Minnesota is 1500 miles above New Orleans, but the wheat of

Minnesota can be brought down the whole distance without change of the vessel in which it is first deposited.

It would seem to be impossible that a country so blessed should not become rich. It must be remembered that

these rivers flow through lands that have never yet been surpassed in natural fertility. Of all countries in the

world one would say that the States of America should have been the last to curse themselves with a war; but

now the curse has fallen upon them with a double vengeance, it would seem that they could never be great in

war: their very institutions forbid it; their enormous distances forbid it; the price of labor forbids it; and it is

forbidden also by the career of industry and expansion which has been given to them. But the curse of

fighting has come upon them, and they are showing themselves to be as eager in the works of war as they

have shown themselves capable in the works of peace. Men and angels must weep as they behold the things

that are being done, as they watch the ruin that has come and is still coming, as they look on commerce killed

and agriculture suspended. No sight so sad has come upon the earth in our days. They were a great people;

feeding the world, adding daily to the mechanical appliances of mankind, increasing in population beyond all

measures of such increase hitherto known, and extending education as fast as they extended their numbers.

Poverty had as yet found no place among them, and hunger was an evil of which they had read but were

themselves ignorant. Each man among their crowds had a right to be proud of his manhood. To read and

writeI am speaking here of the Northwas as common as to eat and drink. To work was no disgrace, and

the wages of work were plentiful. To live without work was the lot of none. What blessing above these

blessings was needed to make a people great and happy? And now a stranger visiting them would declare that

they are wallowing in a very slough of despond. The only trade open is the trade of war. The axe of the

woodsman is at rest; the plow is idle; the artificer has closed his shop. The roar of the foundery is still heard

because cannon are needed, and the river of molten iron comes out as an implement of death. The stone

cutter's hammer and the mason's trowel are never heard. The gold of the country is hiding itself as though it

had returned to its mother earth, and the infancy of a paper currency has been commenced. Sick soldiers, who

have never seen a battlefield, are dying by hundreds in the squalid dirt of their unaccustomed camps. Men

and women talk of war, and of war only. Newspapers full of the war are alone read. A contract for war

storestoo often a dishonest contractis the one path open for commercial enterprise. The young man must

go to the war or he is disgraced. The war swallows everything, and as yet has failed to produce even such

bitter fruits as victory or glory. Must it not be said that a curse has fallen upon the land?

And yet I still hope that it may ultimately be for good. Through water and fire must a nation be cleansed of its

faults. It has been so with all nations, though the phases of their trials have been different. It did not seem to

be well with us in Cromwell's early days; nor was it well with us afterward in those disgraceful years of the

later Stuarts. We know how France was bathed in blood in her effort to rid herself of her painted sepulcher of

an ancient throne; how Germany was made desolate, in order that Prussia might become a nation. Ireland was

poor and wretched till her famine came. Men said it was a curse, but that curse has been her greatest blessing.

And so will it be here in the West. I could not but weep in spirit as I saw the wretchedness around methe

squalid misery of the soldiers, the inefficiency of their officers, the bickerings of their rulers, the noise and

threats, the dirt and ruin, the terrible dishonesty of those who were trusted! These are things which made a

man wish that he were anywhere but there. But I do believe that God is still over all, and that everything is

working for good. These things are the fire and water through which this nation must pass. The course of this

people had been too straight, and their way had been too pleasant. That which to others had been ever

difficult had been made easy for them. Bread and meat had come to them as things of course, and they hardly

remembered to be thankful. "We, ourselves, have done it," they declared aloud. "We are not as other men.

We are gods upon the earth. Whose arm shall be long enough to stay us, or whose bolt shall be strong enough

Now they are stricken sore, and the bolt is from their own bow. Their own hands have raised the barrier that

has stayed them. They have stumbled in their running, and are lying hurt upon the ground; while they who

have heard their boastings turn upon them with ridicule, and laugh at them in their discomforture. They are

rolling in the mire, and cannot take the hand of any man to help them. Though the hand of the bystander

may be stretched to them, his face is scornful and his voice full of reproaches. Who has not known that hour

of misery when in the sullenness of the heart all help has been refused, and misfortune has been made

welcome to do her worst? So is it now with those once United States. The man who can see without inward

tears the selfinflicted wounds of that American people can hardly have within his bosom the tenderness of

But the strong runner will rise again to his feet, even though he be stunned by his fall. He will rise again, and

will have learned something by his sorrow. His anger will pass away, and he will again brace himself for his

work. What great race has ever been won by any man, or by any nation, without some such fall during its

course? Have we not all declared that some check to that career was necessary? Men in their pursuit of

intelligence had forgotten to be honest; in struggling for greatness they had discarded purity. The nation has

been great, but the statesmen of the nation have been little. Men have hardly been ambitious to govern, but

they have coveted the wages of governors. Corruption has crept into high placesinto places that should

have been hightill of all holes and corners in the land they have become the lowest. No public man has

been trusted for ordinary honesty. It is not by foreign voices, by English newspapers or in French pamphlets,

that the corruption of American politicians has been exposed, but by American voices and by the American

press. It is to be heard on every side. Ministers of the cabinet, senators, representatives, State legislatures,

officers of the army, officials of the navy, contractors of every gradeall who are presumed to touch, or to

have the power of touching public money, are thus accused. For years it has been so. The word politician has

stunk in men's nostrils. When I first visited New York, some three years since, I was warned not to know a

man, because he was a "politician." We in England define a man of a certain class as a blackleg. How has it

come about that in American ears the word politician has come to bear a similar signification?

The material growth of the States has been so quick that the political growth has not been able to keep pace

with it. In commerce, in education, in all municipal arrangements, in mechanical skill, and also in

professional ability the country has stalked on with amazing rapidity; but in the art of governing, in all

political management and detail, it has made no advance. The merchants of our country and of that country

have for many years met on terms of perfect equality; but it has never been so with their statesmen and our

statesmen, with their diplomatists and our diplomatists. Lombard Street and Wall Street can do business with

each other on equal footing, but it is not so between Downing Street and the State office at Washington. The

science of statesmanship has yet to be learned in the States, and certainly the highest lesson of that science,

I trust that the war will have left such a lesson behind it. If it do so, let the cost in money be what it may, that

money will not have been wasted. If the American people can learn the necessity of employing their best men

for their highest workif they can recognize these honest men, and trust them when they are so

recognizedthen they may become as great in politics as they have become great in commerce and in social

St. Louis, and indeed the whole State of Missouri, was at the time of my visit under martial law. General

Halleck was in command, holding his headquarters at St. Louis, and carrying out, at any rate as far as the city

was concerned, what orders he chose to issue. I am disposed to think that, situated as Missouri then was,

martial law was the best law. No other law could have had force in a town surrounded by soldiers, and in

which half of the inhabitants were loyal to the existing government and half of them were in favor of

rebellion. The necessity for such power is terrible, and the power itself in the hands of one man must be full

of danger; but even that is better than anarchy. I will not accuse General Halleck of abusing his power, seeing

that it is hard to determine what is the abuse of such power and what its proper use. When we were at St.

Louis a tax was being gathered of 100l. a head from certain men presumed to be secessionists; and, as the

money was not of course very readily paid, the furniture of these suspected secessionists was being sold by

auction. No doubt such a measure was by them regarded as a great abuse. One gentleman informed me that,

in addition to this, certain houses of his had been taken by the government at a fixed rent, and that the

payment of the rent was now refused unless he would take the oath of allegiance. He no doubt thought that an

abuse of power! But the worst abuse of such power comes not at first, but with long usage.

Up to the time, however, at which I was at St. Louis, martial law had chiefly been used in closing grogshops

and administering the oath of allegiance to suspected secessionists. Something also had been done in the way

of raising money by selling the property of convicted secessionists; and while I was there eight men were

condemned to be shot for destroying railway bridges. "But will they be shot?" I asked of one of the officers.

"Oh, yes. It will be done quietly, and no one will know anything about it; we shall get used to that kind of

thing presently." And the inhabitants of Missouri were becoming used to martial law. It is surprising how

quickly a people can reconcile themselves to altered circumstances, when the change comes upon them

without the necessity of any expressed opinion on their own part. Personal freedom has been considered as

necessary to the American of the States as the air he breathes. Had any suggestion been made to him of a

suspension of the privilege of habeas corpus, of a censorship of the press, or of martial law, the American

would have declared his willingness to die on the floor of the House of Representatives, and have proclaimed

with ten million voices his inability to live under circumstances so subversive of his rights as a man. And he

would have thoroughly believed the truth of his own assertions. Had a chance been given of an argument on

the matter, of stump speeches and caucus meetings, these things could never have been done. But as it is,

Americans are, I think, rather proud of the suspension of the habeas corpus. They point with gratification to

the uniformly loyal tone of the newspapers, remarking that any editor who should dare to give even a

secession squeak would immediately find himself shut up. And now nothing but good is spoken of martial

law. I thought it a nuisance when I was prevented by soldiers from trotting my horse down Pennsylvania

Avenue in Washington; but I was assured by Americans that such restrictions were very serviceable in a

community. At St. Louis martial law was quite popular. Why should not General Halleck be as well able to

say what was good for the people as any law or any lawyer? He had no interest in the injury of the State, but

every interest in its preservation. "But what," I asked, "would be the effect were he to tell you to put all your

fires out at eight o'clock?" "If he were so to order, we should do it; but we know that he will not." But who

does know to what General Halleck or other generals may come, or how soon a curfewbell may be ringing

in American towns? The winning of liberty is long and tedious; but the losing it is a downhill, easy journey.

It was here, in St. Louis, that General Fremont held his military court. He was a great man here during those

hundred days through which his command lasted. He lived in a great house, had a body guard, was

inaccessible as a great man should be, and fared sumptuously every day. He fortified the cityor rather, he

began to do so. He constructed barracks here, and instituted military prisons. The fortifications have been

discontinued as useless, but the barracks and the prisons remain. In the latter there were 1200 secessionist

soldiers who had been taken in the State of Missouri. "Why are they not exchanged?" I asked. "Because they

are not exactly soldiers," I was informed. "The secessionists do not acknowledge them." "Then would it not

be cheaper to let them go?" "No," said my informant; "because in that case we would have to catch them

again." And so the 1200 remain in their wretched prison thinned from week to week and from day to day

I went out twice to Benton Barracks, as the camp of wooden huts was called, which General Fremont had

erected near the fairground of the city. This fairground, I was told, had been a pleasant place. It had been

constructed for the recreation of the city, and for the purpose of periodical agricultural exhibitions. There is

still in it a pretty ornamented cottage, and in the little garden a solitary Cupid stood, dismayed by the dirt and

ruin around him. In the fair green are the round buildings intended for show cattle and agricultural

implements, but now given up to cavalry horses and Parrott guns. But Benton Barracks are outside the

fairgreen. Here on an open space, some half mile in length, two long rows of wooden sheds have been built,

opposite to each other, and behind them are other sheds used for stabling and cooking places. Those in front

are divided, not into separate huts, but into chambers capable of containing nearly two hundred men each.

They were surrounded on the inside by great wooden trays, in three tiersand on each tray four men were

supposed to sleep. I went into one or two while the crowd of soldiers was in them, but found it inexpedient to

stay there long. The stench of those places was foul beyond description. Never in my life before had I been in

a place so horrid to the eyes and nose as Benton Barracks. The path along the front outside was deep in mud.

The whole space between the two rows of sheds was one field of mud, so slippery that the foot could not

stand. Inside and outside every spot was deep in mud. The soldiers were mudstained from foot to sole.

These volunteer soldiers are in their nature dirty, as must be all men brought together in numerous bodies

without special appliances for cleanliness, or control and discipline as to their personal habits. But the dirt of

the men in the Benton Barracks surpassed any dirt that I had hitherto seen. Nor could it have been otherwise

with them. They were surrounded by a sea of mud, and the foul hovels in which they were made to sleep and

live were fetid with stench and reeking with filth. I had at this time been joined by another Englishman, and

we went through this place together. When we inquired as to the health of the men, we heard the saddest

talesof three hundred men gone out of one regiment, of whole companies that had perished, of hospitals

crowded with fevered patients. Measles had been the great scourge of the soldiers hereas it had also been

in the army of the Potomac. I shall not soon forget my visits to Benton Barracks. It may be that our own

soldiers were as badly treated in the Crimea; or that French soldiers were treated worse in their march into

Russia. It may be that dirt and wretchedness, disease and listless idleness, a descent from manhood to habits

lower than those of the beasts, are necessary in warfare. I have sometimes thought that it is so; but I am no

military critic, and will not say. This I saythat the degradation of men to the state in which I saw the

General Halleck was at this time commanding in Missouri, and was himself stationed at St. Louis; but his

active measures against the rebels were going on to the right and to the left. On the left shore of the

Mississippi, at Cairo, in Illinois, a fleet of gun boats was being prepared to go down the river, and on the

right an army was advancing against Springfield, in the southwestern district of Missouri, with the object of

dislodging Price, the rebel guerrilla leader there, and, if possible, of catching him. Price had been the

opponent of poor General Lyons, who was killed at Wilson's Creek, near Springfield, and of General

Fremont, who during his hundred days had failed to drive him out of the State. This duty had now been

intrusted to General Curtis, who had for some time been holding his headquarters at Rolla, half way between

St. Louis and Springfield. Fremont had built a fort at Rolla, and it had become a military station. Over 10,000

men had been there at one time, and now General Curtis was to advance from Rolla against Price with

something above that number of men. Many of them, however, had already gone on, and others were daily

being sent up from St. Louis. Under these circumstances my friend and I, fortified with a letter of

On our way down by the railway we encountered a young German officer, an aidedecamp of the Federals,

and under his auspices we saw Rolla to advantage. Our companions in the railway were chiefly soldiers and

teamsters. The car was crowded, and filled with tobacco smoke, apple peel, and foul air. In these cars during

the winter there is always a large lighted stove, a stove that might cook all the dinners for a French hotel, and

no window is ever opened. Among our fellowtravelers there was here and there a west country Missouri

farmer going down, under the protection of the advancing army, to look after the remains of his

chattelswild, dark, uncouth, savagelooking men. One such hero I specially remember, as to whom the

only natural remark would be that one would not like to meet him alone on a dark night. He was burly and

big, unwashed and rough, with a black beard, shorn some two months since. He had sharp, angry eyes, and

sat silent, picking his teeth with a bowie knife. I met him afterward at the Rolla Hotel, and found that he was

a gentleman of property near Springfield. He was mild and meek as a sucking dove, asked my advice as to

the state of his affairs, and merely guessed that things had been pretty rough with him. Things had been pretty

rough with him. The rebels had come upon his land. House, fences, stock, and crop were all gone. His

homestead had been made a ruin, and his farm had been turned into a wilderness. Everything was gone. He

had carried his wife and children off to Illinois, and had now returned, hoping that he might get on in the

wake of the army till he could see the debris of his property. But even he did not seem disturbed. He did not

bemoan himself or curse his fate. "Things were pretty rough," he said; and that was all that he did say.

It was dark when we got into Rolla. Everything had been covered with snow, and everywhere the snow was

frozen. We had heard that there was a hotel, and that possibly we might get a bedroom there. We were first

taken to a wooden building, which we were told was the headquarters of the army, and in one room we found

a colonel with a lot of soldiers loafing about, and in another a provost martial attended by a newspaper

correspondent. We were received with open arms, and a suggestion was at once made that we were no doubt

picking up news for European newspapers. "Air you a son of the Mrs. Trollope?" said the correspondent.

"Then, sir, you are an accession to Rolla." Upon which I was made to sit down, and invited to "loaf about" at

the headquarters as long as I might remain at Rolla. Shortly, however, there came on a violent discussion

about wagons. A general had come in and wanted all the colonel's wagons, but the colonel swore that he had

none, declared how bitterly he was impeded with sick men, and became indignant and reproachful. It was

Brutus and Cassius again; and as we felt ourselves in the way, and anxious moreover to ascertain what might

be the nature of the Rolla hotel, we took up our heavy portmanteausfor they were heavyand with a

guide to show us the way, started off through the dark and over the hill up to our inn. I shall never forget that

walk. It was up hill and down hill, with an occasional halffrozen stream across it. My friend was impeded

with an enormous cloak lined with fur, which in itself was a burden for a coalheaver. Our guide, who was a

clerk out of the colonel's office, carried an umbrella and a small dressingbag, but we ourselves manfully

shouldered our portmanteaus. Sydney Smith declared that an Englishman only wasted his time in training

himself for gymnastic aptitudes, seeing that for a shilling he could always hire a porter. Had Sydney Smith

ever been at Rolla he would have written differently. I could tell at great length how I fell on my face in the

icy snow, how my friend stuck in the frozen mud when he essayed to jump the stream, and how our guide

walked on easily in advance, encouraging us with his voice from a distance. Why is it that a stout Englishman

bordering on fifty finds himself in such a predicament as that? No Frenchman, no Italian, no German would

so place himself, unless under the stress of insurmountable circumstances. No American would do so under

any circumstances. As I slipped about on the ice and groaned with that terrible fardle on my back, burdened

with a dozen shirts, and a suit of dress clothes, and three pair of boots, and four or five thick volumes, and a

set of maps, and a box of cigars, and a washing tub, I confessed to myself that I was a fool. What was I doing

in such a galley as that? Why had I brought all that useless lumber down to Rolla? Why had I come to Rolla,

with no certain hope even of shelter for a night? But we did reach the hotel; we did get a room between us

with two bedsteads. And pondering over the matter in my mind, since that evening, I have been inclined to

think that the stout Englishman is in the right of it. No American of my age and weight will ever go through

what I went through then, but I am not sure that he does not in his accustomed career go through worse things

even than that. However, if I go to Rolla again during the war, I will at any rate leave the books behind me.

What a night we spent in that inn! They who know America will be aware that in all hotels there is a free

admixture of different classes. The traveler in Europe may sit down to dinner with his tailor and shoemaker;

but if so, his tailor and shoemaker have dressed themselves as he dresses, and are prepared to carry

themselves according to a certain standard, which in exterior does not differ from his own. In the large

Eastern cities of the States, such as Boston, New York, and Washington, a similar practice of life is gradually

becoming prevalent. There are various hotels for various classes, and the ordinary traveler does not find

himself at the same table with a butcher fresh from the shambles. But in the West there are no distinctions

whatever. A man's a man for a' that in the West, let the "a' that" comprise what it may of coarse attire and

unsophisticated manners. One soon gets used to it. In that inn at Rolla was a public room, heated in the

middle by a stove, and round that we soon found ourselves seated in a company of soldiers, farmers, laborers,

and teamsters. But there was among them a general; not a fighting, or wouldbe fighting general of the

present time, but one of the oldfashioned local generals,men who held, or had once held, some fabulous

generalship in the State militia. There we sat, cheek by jowl with our new friends, till nearly twelve o'clock,

talking politics and discussing the war. The general was a stanch Unionist, having, according to his own

showing, suffered dreadful things from secessionist persecutors since the rebellion commenced. As a matter

of course everybody present was for the Union. In such a place one rarely encounters any difference of

opinion. The general was very eager about the war, advocating the immediate abolition of slavery, not as a

means of improving the condition of the Southern slaves, but on the ground that it would ruin the Southern

masters. We all sat by, edging in a word now and then, but the general was the talker of the evening. He was

very wrathy, and swore at every other word. "It was pretty well time," he said, "to crush out this rebellion,

and by it must and should be crushed out; General Jim Lane was the man to do it, and by General

Jim Lane would do it!" and so on. In all such conversations the time for action has always just come, and also

the expected man. But the time passes by as other weeks and months have passed before it, and the new

general is found to be no more successful than his brethren. Our friend was very angry against England.

"When we've polished off these accursed rebels, I guess we'll take a turn at you. You had your turn when you

made us give up Mason and Slidell, and we'll have our turn byandby." But in spite of his dislike to our

nation he invited us warmly to come and see him at his home on the Missouri River. It was, according to his

showing, a new Eden, a Paradise upon earth. He seemed to think that we might perhaps desire to buy a

location, and explained to us how readily we could make our fortunes. But he admitted in the course of his

eulogiums that it would be as much as his life was worth to him to ride out five miles from his own house. In

the mean time the teamsters greased their boots, the soldiers snored, those who were wet took off their shoes

and stockings, hanging them to dry round the stove, and the Western farmers chewed tobacco in silence, and

ruminated. At such a house all the guests go in to their meals together. A gong is sounded on a sudden, close

behind your ears; accustomed as you may probably be to the sound, you jump up from your chair in the

agony of the crash, and by the time that you have collected your thoughts the whole crowd is off in a general

stampede into the eatingroom. You may as well join them; if you hesitate as to feeding with so rough a lot

of men, you will have to set down afterward with the women and children of the family, and your lot will

then be worse. Among such classes in the Western States the men are always better than the women. The men

On the following day we visited the camp, going out in an ambulance and returning on horseback. We were

accompanied by the general's aiddecamp, and also, to our great gratification, by the general's daughter.

There had been a hard frost for some nights, but though the cold was very great there was always heat enough

in the middle of the day to turn the surface of the ground into glutinous mud; consequently we had all the

roughness induced by frost, but none of the usually attendant cleanliness. Indeed, it seemed that in these parts

nothing was so dirty as frost. The mud stuck like paste and encompassed everything. We heard that morning

that from sixty to seventy baggage wagons had "broken through," as they called it, and stuck fast near a river,

in their endeavor to make their way on to Lebanon. We encountered two generals of brigade, General Siegel,

a German, and General Ashboth, a Hungarian, both of whom were waiting till the weather should allow them

to advance. They were extremely courteous, and warmly invited us to go on with them to Lebanon and

Springfield, promising to us such accommodation as they might be able to obtain for themselves. I was much

tempted to accept the offer; but I found that day after day might pass before any forward movement was

commenced, and that it might be weeks before Springfield or even Lebanon could be reached. It was my

wish, moreover, to see what I could of the people, rather than to scrutinize the ways of the army. We dined at

the tent of General Ashboth, and afterward rode his horses through the camp back to Rolla, I was greatly

taken with this Hungarian gentleman. He was a tall, thin, gaunt man of fifty, a pureblooded Magyar a I was

told, who had come from his own country with Kossuth to America. His camp circumstances were not very

luxurious, nor was his table very richly spread; but he received us with the ease and courtesy of a gentleman.

He showed us his sword, his rifle, his pistols, his chargers, and daguerreotype of a friend he had loved in his

own country. They were all the treasures that he carried with himover and above a chessboard and a set

In my next chapter, which will, I trust, be very short, I purport to say a few words as to what I saw of the

American army, and therefore I will not now describe the regiments which we visited. The tents were all

encompassed by snow, and the ground on which they stood was a bed of mud; but yet the soldiers out here

were not so wretchedly forlorn, or apparently so miserably uncomfortable, as those at Benton Barracks. I did

not encounter that horrid sickly stench, nor were the men so pale and woebegone. On the following day we

returned to St. Louis, bringing back with us our friend the German aiddecamp. I stayed two days longer in

that city, and then I thought that I had seen enough of Missouri; enough of Missouri at any rate under the

present circumstances of frost and secession. As regards the people of the West, I must say that they were not

such as I expected to find them. With the Northerns we are all more or less intimately acquainted. Those

Americans whom we meet in our own country, or on the continent, are generally from the North, or if not so

they have that type of American manners which has become familiar to us. They are talkative, intelligent,

inclined to be social, though frequently not sympathetically social with ourselves; somewhat soidisant, but

almost invariably companionable. As the traveler goes southward into Maryland and Washington, the type is

not altered to any great extent. The hard intelligence of the Yankee gives place gradually to the softer, and

perhaps more polished, manner of the Southern. But the change thus experienced is not great as is that

between the American of the Western and the American of the Atlantic States. In the West I found the men

gloomy and silentI might almost say sullen. A dozen of them will sit for hours round a stove, speechless.

They chew tobacco and ruminate. They are not offended if you speak to them, but they are not pleased. They

answer with monosyllables, or, if it be practicable, with a gesture of the head. They care nothing for the

graces or shall I sayfor the decencies of life. They are essentially a dirty people. Dirt, untidiness, and

noise seem in nowise to afflict them. Things are constantly done before your eyes which should be done and

might be done behind your back. No doubt we daily come into the closest contact with matters which, if we

saw all that appertains to them, would cause us to shake and shudder. In other countries we do not see all this,

but in the Western States we do. I have eaten in Bedouin tents, and have been ministered to by Turks and

Arabs. I have sojourned in the hotels of old Spain and of Spanish America. I have lived in Connaught, and

have taken up my quarters with monks of different nations. I have, as it were, been educated to dirt, and taken

out my degree in outward abominations. But my education had not reached a point which would enable me to

live at my ease in the Western States. A man or woman who can do that may be said to have graduated in the

highest honors, and to have become absolutely invulnerable, either through the sense of touch, or by the eye,

or by the nose. Indifference to appearances is there a matter of pride. A foul shirt is a flag of triumph. A

craving for soap and water is as the wail of the weak and the confession of cowardice. This indifference is

carried into all their affairs, or rather this manifestation of indifference. A few pages back, I spoke of a man

whose furniture had been sold to pay a heavy tax raised on him specially as a secessionist; the same man had

also been refused the payment of rent due to him by the government, unless he would take a false oath. I may

presume that he was ruined in his circumstances by the strong hand of the Northern army. But he seemed in

no wise to be unhappy about his ruin. He spoke with some scorn of the martial law in Missouri, but I felt that

it was esteemed a small matter by him that his furniture was seized and sold. No men love money with more

eager love than these Western men, but they bear the loss of it as an Indian bears his torture at the stake. They

are energetic in trade, speculating deeply whenever speculation is possible; but nevertheless they are slow in

motion, loving to loaf about. They are slow in speech, preferring to sit in silence, with the tobacco between

their teeth. They drink, but are seldom drunk to the eye; they begin at it early in the morning, and take it in a

solemn, sullen, ugly manner, standing always at a bar; swallowing their spirits, and saying nothing as they

swallow it. They drink often, and to great excess; but they carry it off without noise, sitting down and

ruminating over it with the everlasting cud within their jaws. I believe that a stranger might go into the West,

and passing from hotel to hotel through a dozen of them, might sit for hours at each in the large everlasting

public hall, and never have a word addressed to him. No stranger should travel in the Western States, or

indeed in any of the States, without letters of introduction. It is the custom of the country, and they are easily

procured. Without them everything is barren; for men do not travel in the States of America as they do in

Europe, to see scenery and visit the marvels of old cities which are open to all the world. The social and

political life of the American must constitute the interest of the traveler, and to these he can hardly make his

I cannot part with the West without saying, in its favor, that there is a certain manliness about its men which

gives them a dignity of their own. It is shown in that very indifference of which I have spoken. Whatever

turns up, the man is still there; still unsophisticated and still unbroken. It has seemed to me that no race of

men requires less outward assistance than these pioneers of civilization. They rarely amuse themselves. Food,

newspapers, and brandy smashes suffice for life; and while these last, whatever may occur, the man is still

there in his manhood. The fury of the mob does not shake him, nor the stern countenance of his present

martial tyrant. Alas! I cannot stick to my text by calling him a just man. Intelligence, energy, and endurance

All native American women are intelligent. It seems to be their birthright. In the Eastern cities they have, in

their upper classes, superadded womanly grace to this intelligence, and consequently they are charming as

companions. They are beautiful also, and, as I believe, lack nothing that a lover can desire in his love. But I

cannot fancy myself much in love with a Western lady, or rather with a lady in the West. They are as sharp as

nails, but then they are also as hard. They know, doubtless, all that they ought to know, but then they know so

much more than they ought to know. They are tyrants to their parents, and never practice the virtue of

obedience till they have halfgrownup daughters of their own. They have faith in the destiny of their country,

if in nothing else; but they believe that that destiny is to be worked out by the spirit and talent of the young

women. I confess that for me Eve would have had no charms had she not recognized Adam as her lord. I can

forgive her in that she tempted him to eat the apple. Had she come from the West country, she would have

St. Louis should be, and still will be, a town of great wealth. To no city can have been given more means of

riches. I have spoken of the enormous mileage of water communication of which she is the center. The

country around her produces Indiancorn, wheat, grasses, hemp, and tobacco. Coal is dug even within the

boundaries of the city, and iron mines are worked at a distance from it of a hundred miles. The iron is so pure

that it is broken off in solid blocks, almost free from alloy; and as the metal stands up on the earth's surface in

the guise almost of a gigantic metal pillar, instead of lying low within its bowels, it is worked at a cheap rate,

and with great certainty. Nevertheless, at the present moment, the iron works of Pilot Knob, as the place is

called, do not pay. As far as I could learn, nothing did pay, except government contracts.

To whatever period of life my days may be prolonged, I do not think that I shall ever forget Cairo. I do not

mean Grand Cairo, which is also memorable in its way, and a place not to be forgotten, but Cairo in the State

of Illinois, which by native Americans is always called Caaro. An idea is prevalent in the Statesand I think

I have heard the same broached in Englandthat a popular British author had Cairo, State of Illinois, in his

eye when, under the name of Eden, he depicted a chosen, happy spot on the Mississippi River, and told us

how certain English immigrants fixed themselves in that locality, and there made light of those little ills of

life which are incident to humanity even in the garden of the valley of the Mississippi. But I doubt whether

that author ever visited Cairo in midwinter, and I am sure that he never visited Cairo when Cairo was the seat

of an American army. Had he done so, his love of truth would have forbidden him to presume that even Mark

I had no wish myself to go to Cairo, having heard it but indifferently spoken of by all men; but my friend

with whom I was traveling was peremptory in the matter. He had heard of gunboats and mortarboats, of

forts built upon the river, of Columbiads, Dahlgrens, and Parrotts, of all the pomps and circumstance of

glorious war, and entertained an idea that Cairo was the nucleus or pivot of all really strategetic movements

in this terrible national struggle. Under such circumstances I was as it were forced to go to Cairo, and bore

myself, under the circumstances, as much like Mark Tapley as my nature would permit. I was not jolly while

I was there certainly, but I did not absolutely break down and perish in its mud.

Cairo is the southern terminus of the Illinois Central Railway. There is but one daily arrival there, namely, at

halfpast four in the morning; and but one dispatch, which is at halfpast three in the morning. Everything is

thus done to assist that view of life which Mark Tapley took when he resolved to ascertain under what

possible worst circumstances of existence he could still maintain his jovial character. Why anybody should

ever arrive at Cairo at halfpast four A.M., I cannot understand. The departure at any hour is easy of

comprehension. The place is situated exactly at the point at which the Ohio and the Mississippi meet, and is, I

should saymerely guessing on the mattersome ten or twelve feet lower than the winter level of the two

rivers. This gives it naturally a depressed appearance, which must have much aided Mark Tapley in his

endeavors. Who were the founders of Cairo I have never ascertained. They are probably buried fathoms deep

in the mud, and their names will no doubt remain a mystery to the latest ages. They were brought thither, I

presume, by the apparent water privileges of the place; but the water privileges have been too much for them,

and by the excess of their powers have succeeded in drowning all the capital of the early Cairovians, and in

The free State of Illinois runs down far south between the slave States of Kentucky to the east, and of

Missouri to the west, and is the most southern point of the continuous freesoil territory of the Northern

States. This point of it is a part of a district called Egypt, which is as fertile as the old country from whence it

has borrowed a name; but it suffers under those afflictions which are common to all newlysettled lands

which owe their fertility to the vicinity of great rivers. Fever and ague universally prevail. Men and women

grow up with their lantern faces like specters. The children are prematurely old; and the earth, which is so

fruitful, is hideous in its fertility. Cairo and its immediate neighborhood must, I suppose, have been subject to

yearly inundation before it was "settled up." At present it is guarded on the shores of each river by high mud

banks, built so as to protect the point of land. These are called the levees, and do perform their duty by

keeping out the body of the waters. The shore between the banks is, I believe, never above breastdeep with

the inundation; and from the circumstances of the place, and the soft, halfliquid nature of the soil, this

Here, at the very point, has been built a town. Whether the town existed during Mr. Tapley's time I have not

been able to learn. At the period of my visit it was falling quickly into ruin; indeed, I think I may pronounce it

to have been on its last legs. At that moment a galvanic motion had been pumped into it by the war

movements of General Halleck; but the true bearings of the town, as a town, were not less plainly to be read

on that account. Every street was absolutely impassable from mud. I mean that in walking down the middle

of any street in Cairo, a moderatelyframed man would soon stick fast, and not be able to move. The houses

are generally built at considerable intervals, and rarely face each other; and along one side of each street a

plank boarding was laid, on which the mud had accumulated only up to one's ankles. I walked all over Cairo

with big boots, and with my trowsers tucked up to my knees; but at the crossings I found considerable

danger, and occasionally had my doubts as to the possibility of progress. I was alone in my work, and saw no

one else making any such attempt. But few only were moving about, and they moved in wretched carts, each

drawn by two miserable, floundering horses. These carts were always empty, but were presumed to be

engaged in some way on military service. No faces looked out at the windows of the houses, no forms stood

in the doorways. A few shops were open, but only in the drinkingshops did I see customers. In these, silent,

muddy men were sitting, not with drink before them, as men sit with us, but with the cud within their jaws,

ruminating. Their drinking is always done on foot. They stand silent at a bar, with two small glasses before

them. Out of one they swallow the whisky, and from the other they take a gulp of water, as though to rinse

their mouths. After that, they again sit down and ruminate. It was thus that men enjoyed themselves at Cairo.

I cannot tell what was the existing population of Cairo. I asked one resident; but he only shook his head and

said that the place was about "played out." And a miserable play it must have been. I tried to walk round the

point on the levees, but I found that the mud was so deep and slippery on that which protected the town from

the Mississippi that I could not move on it. On the other, which forms the bank of the Ohio, the railway runs,

and here was gathered all the life and movement of the place. But the life was galvanic in its nature, created

As Cairo is of all towns in America the most desolate, so is its hotel the most forlorn and wretched. Not that it

lacked custom. It was so full that no room was to be had on our first entry from the railway cars at five A.M.,

and we were reduced to the necessity of washing our hands and faces in the public washroom. When I

entered it the barber and his assistants were asleep there, and four or five citizens from the railway were busy

at the basins. There is a fixed resolution in these places that you shall be drenched with dirt and drowned in

abominations, which is overpowering to a mind less strong than Mark Tapley's. The filth is paraded and made

to go as far as possible. The stranger is spared none of the elements of nastiness. I remember how an old

woman once stood over me in my youth, forcing me to swallow the gritty dregs of her terrible medicine cup.

The treatment I received in the hotel at Cairo reminded me of that old woman. In that room I did not dare to

brush my teeth lest I should give offense; and I saw at once that I was regarded with suspicion when I used

At length we got a room, one room for the two. I had become so depressed in spirits that I did not dare to

object to this arrangement. My friend could not complain much, even to me, feeling that these miseries had

been produced by his own obstinacy. "It is a new phase of life," he said. That at any rate was true. If nothing

more be necessary for pleasurable excitement than a new phase of life, I would recommend all who require

pleasurable excitement to go to Cairo. They will certainly find a new phase of life. But do not let them remain

too long, or they may find something beyond a new phase of life. Within a week of that time my friend was

taking quinine, looking hollow about the eyes, and whispering to me of fever and ague. To say that there was

nothing eatable or drinkable in that hotel, would be to tell that which will be understood without telling. My

friend, however, was a cautious man, carrying with him comfortable tin pots, hermetically sealed, from

Fortnum Mason's; and on the second day of our sojourn we were invited by two officers to join their dinner at

a Cairo eating house. We plowed our way gallantly through the mud to a little shanty, at the door of which

we were peremptorily commanded by the landlord to scrub ourselves, before we entered, with the stump of

an old broom. This we did, producing on our nether persons the appearance of bread which has been carefully

spread with treacle by an economic housekeeper. And the proprietor was right, for had we not done so, the

treacle would have run off through the whole house. But after this we fared royally. Squirrel soup and prairie

chickens regaled us. One of our new friends had laden his pockets with champagne and brandy; the other

with glasses and a corkscrew; and as the bottle went round, I began to feel something of the spirit of Mark

But our visit to Cairo had been made rather with reference to its present warlike character than with any eye

to the natural beauties of the place. A large force of men had been collected there, and also a fleet of

gunboats. We had come there fortified with letters to generals and commodores, and were prepared to go

through a large amount of military inspection. But the bird had flown before our arrival; or rather the body

and wings of the bird, leaving behind only a draggled tail and a few of its feathers. There were only a

thousand soldiers at Cairo when we were therethat is, a thousand stationed in the Cairo sheds. Two

regiments passed through the place during the time, getting out of one steamer on to another, or passing from

the railway into boats. One of these regiments passed before me down the slope of the river bank, and the

men as a body seemed to be healthy. Very many were drunk, and all were mud clogged up to their shoulders

and very caps. In other respects they appeared to be in good order. It must be understood that these soldiers,

the volunteers, had never been made subject to any discipline as to cleanliness. They wore their hair long.

Their hats or caps, though all made in some military form and with some military appendance, were various

and ill assorted. They all were covered with loose, thick, bluegray greatcoats, which no doubt were warm

and wholesome, but which from their looseness and color seemed to be peculiarly susceptible of receiving

and showing a very large amount of mud. Their boots were always good; but each man was shod as he liked.

Many wore heavy overboots coming up the leg boots of excellent manufacture, and from their cost, if for

no other reason, quite out of the reach of an English soldierboots in which a man would be not at all

unfortunate to find himself hunting; but from these, or from their highlows, shoes, or whatever they might

wear, the mud had never been even scraped. These men were all warmly clothed, but clothed apparently with

The generals and commodores were gone up the Ohio River and up the Tennessee in an expedition with

gunboats, which turned out to be successful, and of which we have all read in the daily history of this war.

They had departed the day before our arrival; and though we still found at Cairo a squadron of gunboatsif

gunboats go in squadronsthe bulk of the army had been moved. There were left there one regiment and

one colonel, who kindly described to us the battles he had fought, and gave us permission to see everything

that was to be seen. Four of these gunboats were still lying in the Ohio, close under the terminus of the

railway, with their flat, ugly noses against the muddy bank; and we were shown over two of them. They

certainly seemed to be formidable weapons for river warfare, and to have been "got up quite irrespective of

expense." So much, indeed, may be said for the Americans throughout the war. They cannot be accused of

parsimony. The largest of these vessels, called the "Benton," had cost 36,000l. These boats are made with

sides sloping inward at an angle of fortyfive degrees. The iron is two and a half inches thick, and it has not,

I believe, been calculated that this will resist cannonshot of great weight, should it be struck in a direct line.

But the angle of the sides of the boat makes it improbable that any such shot should strike them; and the iron,

bedded as it is upon oak, is supposed to be sufficient to turn a shot that does not hit it in a direct line. The

boats are also roofed in with iron; and the pilots who steer the vessel stand incased, as it were, under an iron

cupola. I imagine that these boats are well calculated for the river service, for which they have been built. Six

or seven of them had gone up the Tennessee River the day before we reached Cairo; and while we were there

they succeeded in knocking down Fort Henry, and in carrying off the soldiers stationed there and the officer

in command. One of the boats, however, had been penetrated by a shot, which made its way into the boiler;

and the men on decksix, I think, in numberwere scalded to death by the escaping steam. The two pilots

up in the cupola were destroyed in this terrible manner. As they were altogether closed in by the iron roof and

sides, there was no escape for the steam. The boats, however, were well made and very powerfully armed,

and will probably succeed in driving the secessionist armies away from the great river banks. By what

machinery the secessionist armies are to be followed into the interior is altogether another question.

But there was also another fleet at Cairo, and we were informed that we were just in time to see the first essay

made at testing the utility of this armada. It consisted of no less than thirtyeight mortarboats, each of which

had cost 1700l. These mortarboats were broad, flatbottomed rafts, each constructed with a deck raised

three feet above the bottom. They were protected by high iron sides supposed to be proof against rifleballs,

and, when supplied, had been furnished each with a little boat, a rope, and four rough sweeps or oars. They

had no other furniture or belongings, and were to be moved either by steamtugs or by the use of the long

oars which were sent with them. It was intended that one 13inch mortar, of enormous weight, should be put

upon each; that these mortars should be fired with twentythree pounds of powder; and that the shell thrown

should, at a distance of three miles, fall with absolute precision into any devoted town which the rebels might

hold the river banks. The grandeur of the idea is almost sublime. So large an amount of powder had, I

imagine, never then been used for the single charge in any instrument of war; and when we were told that

thirtyeight of them were to play at once on a city, and that they could be used with absolute precision, it

seemed as though the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah could not be worse than the fate of that city. Could any

But when we came to inspect the mortarboats, our misgivings as to any future destination for this fleet were

relieved; and our admiration was given to the smartness of the contractor who had secured to himself the job

of building them. In the first place, they had all leaked till the spaces between the bottoms and the decks were

filled with water. This space had been intended for ammunition, but now seemed hardly to be fitted for that

purpose. The officer who was about to test them, by putting a mortar into one and by firing it off with

twentythree pounds of powder, had the water pumped out of a selected raft; and we were towed by a steam

tug, from their moorings a mile up the river, down to the spot where the mortar lay ready to be lifted in by a

derrick. But as we turned on the river, the tugboat which had brought us down was unable to hold us up

against the force of the stream. A second tugboat was at hand; and, with one on each side, we were just able

in half an hour to recover the hundred yards which we had lost down the river. The pressure against the

stream was so great, owing partly to the weight of the raft and partly to the fact that its flat head buried itself

in the water, that it was almost immovable against the stream, although the mortar was not yet on it.

It soon became manifest that no trial could be made on that day, and so we were obliged to leave Cairo

without having witnessed the firing of the great gun. My belief is that very little evil to the enemy will result

from those mortarboats, and that they cannot be used with much effect. Since that time they have been used

on the Mississippi, but as yet we do not know with what results. Island No. 10 has been taken; but I do not

know that the mortarboats contributed much to that success. But the enormous cost of moving them against

the stream of the river is in itself a barrier to their use. When we saw themand then they were quite

newmany of the rivets were already gone. The small boats had been stolen from some of them, and the

ropes and oars from others. There they lay, thirtyeight in number, up against the mud banks of the Ohio,

under the boughs of the halfclad, melancholy forest trees, as sad a spectacle of reckless prodigality as the

This armada was moored on the Ohio, against the low, reedy bank, a mile above the levee, where the old,

unchanged forest of nature came down to the very edge of the river, and mixed itself with the shallow,

overflowing waters. I am wrong in saying that it lay under the boughs of the trees, for such trees do not

spread themselves out with broad branches. They stand thickly together, broken, stunted, spongy with rot,

straight, and ugly, with ragged tops and shattered arms, seemingly decayed, but still ever renewing

themselves with the rapid, moist life of luxuriant forest vegetation. Nothing to my eyes is sadder than the

monotonous desolation of such scenery. We in England, when we read and speak of the primeval forests of

America, are apt to form pictures in our minds of woodland glades, with spreading oaks, and green, mossy

turf beneathof scenes than which nothing that God has given us is more charming. But these forests are not

after that fashion; they offer no allurement to the lover, no solace to the melancholy man of thought. The

ground is deep with mud or overflown with water. The soil and the river have no defined margins. Each tree,

though full of the forms of life, has all the appearance of death. Even to the outward eye they seem to be

When we first visited the spot we were alone, and we walked across from the railway line to the place at

which the boats were moored. They lay in treble rank along the shore, and immediately above them an old

steamboat was fastened against the bank. Her back was broken, and she was given up to ruinplaced there

that she might rot quietly into her watery grave. It was midwinter, and every tree was covered with frozen

sleet and small particles of snow which had drizzled through the air; for the snow had not fallen in hearty,

honest flakes. The ground beneath our feet was crisp with frost, but traitorous in its crispness; not frozen

manfully so as to bear a man's weight, but ready at every point to let him through into the fat, glutinous mud

below. I never saw a sadder picture, or one which did more to awaken pity for those whose fate had fixed

their abodes in such a locality. And yet there was a beauty about it too a melancholy, deathlike beauty.

The disordered ruin and confused decay of the forest was all gemmed with particles of ice. The eye reaching

through the thin underwood could form for itself picturesque shapes and solitary bowers of broken wood,

which were bright with the opaque brightness of the hoarfrost. The great river ran noiselessly along, rapid

but still with an apparent lethargy in its waters. The ground beneath our feet was fertile beyond compare, but

as yet fertile to death rather than to life. Where we then trod man had not yet come with his axe and his plow;

but the railroad was close to us, and within a mile of the spot thousands of dollars had been spent in raising a

city which was to have been rich with the united wealth of the rivers and the land. Hitherto fever and ague,

mud and malaria, had been too strong for man, and the dollars had been spent in vain. The day, however, will

come when this promontory between the two great rivers will be a fit abode for industry. Men will settle

there, wandering down from the North and East, and toil sadly, and leave their bones among the mud. Thin,

palefaced, joyless mothers will come there, and grow old before their time; and sickly children will be born,

struggling up with wan faces to their sad life's labor. But the work will go on, for it is God's work; and the

earth will be prepared for the people and the fat rottenness of the still living forest will be made to give forth

We found that two days at Cairo were quite enough for us. We had seen the gunboats and the mortarboats,

and gone through the sheds of the soldiers. The latter were bad, comfortless, damp, and cold; and certain

quarters of the officers, into which we were hospitably taken, were wretched abodes enough; but the sheds of

Cairo did not stink like those of Benton Barracks at St. Louis, nor had illness been prevalent there to the same

degree. I do not know why this should have been so, but such was the result of my observation. The locality

of Benton Barracks must, from its nature, have been the more healthy, but it had become by art the foulest

place I ever visited. Throughout the army it seemed to be the fact, that the men under canvas were more

comfortable, in better spirits, and also in better health, than those who were lodged in sheds. We had

inspected the Cairo army and the Cairo navy, and had also seen all that Cairo had to show us of its own. We

were thoroughly disgusted with the hotel, and retired on the second night to bed, giving positive orders that

we might be called at halfpast two, with reference to that terrible start to be made at halfpast three. As a

matter of course we kept dozing and waking till past one, in our fear lest neglect on the part of the watcher

should entail on us another day at this place; of course we went fast asleep about the time at which we should

have roused ourselves; and of course we were called just fifteen minutes before the train started. Everybody

knows how these things always go. And then the pair of us jumping out of bed in that wretched chamber,

went through the mockery of washing and packing which always takes place on such occasions; a mockery

indeed of washing, for there was but one basin between us! And a mockery also of packing, for I left my

hairbrushes behind me! Cairo was avenged in that I had declined to avail myself of the privileges of free

citizenship which had been offered to me in that barber's shop. And then, while we were in our agony, pulling

at the straps of our portmanteaus and swearing at the faithlessness of the boots, up came the clerk of the

hotelthe great man from behind the barand scolded us prodigiously for our delay. "Called! We had been

called an hour ago!" Which statement, however, was decidedly untrue, as we remarked, not with extreme

patience. "We should certainly be late," he said; "it would take us five minutes to reach the train, and the cars

would be off in four." Nobody who has not experienced them can understand the agonies of such

momentsof such moments as regards traveling in general; but none who have not been at Cairo can

understand the extreme agony produced by the threat of a prolonged sojourn in that city. At last we were out

of the house, rushing through the mud, slush, and halfmelted snow, along the wooden track to the railway,

laden with bags and coats, and deafened by that melancholy, wailing sound, as though of a huge polar she

bear in the pangs of travail upon an iceberg, which proceeds from an American railwayengine before it

commences its work. How we slipped and stumbled, and splashed and swore, rushing along in the dark night,

with buttons loose, and our clothes half on! And how pitilessly we were treated! We gained our cars, and

even succeeded in bringing with us our luggage; but we did not do so with the sympathy, but amid the

derision of the bystanders. And then the seats were all full, and we found that there was a lower depth even

in the terrible deep of a railway train in a Western State. There was a secondclass carriage, prepared, I

presume, for those who esteemed themselves too dirty for association with the aristocracy of Cairo; and into

this we flung ourselves. Even this was a joy to us, for we were being carried away from Eden. We had

acknowledged ourselves to be no fitting colleagues for Mark Tapley, and would have been glad to escape

from Cairo even had we worked our way out of the place as assistant stokers to the enginedriver. Poor

Cairo! unfortunate Cairo! "It is about played out!" said its citizen to me. But in truth the play was commenced

a little too soon. Those players have played out; but another set will yet have their innings, and make a score

We were still bent upon army inspection, and with this purpose went back from Cairo to Louisville, in

Kentucky. I had passed through Louisville before, as told in my last chapter, but had not gone south from

Louisville toward the Green River, and had seen nothing of General Buell's soldiers. I should have mentioned

before that when we were at St. Louis, we asked General Halleck, the officer in command of the Northern

army of Missouri, whether he could allow us to pass through his lines to the South. This he assured us he was

forbidden to do, at the same time offering us every facility in his power for such an expedition if we could

obtain the consent of Mr. Seward, who at that time had apparently succeeded in engrossing into his own

hands, for the moment, supreme authority in all matters of government. Before leaving Washington we had

determined not to ask Mr. Seward, having but little hope of obtaining his permission, and being unwilling to

encounter his refusal. Before going to General Halleck, we had considered the question of visiting the land of

"Dixie" without permission from any of the men in authority. I ascertained that this might easily have been

done from Kentucky to Tennessee, but that it could only be done on foot. There are very few available roads

running North and South through these States. The railways came before roads; and even where the railways

are far asunder, almost all the traffic of the country takes itself to them, preferring a long circuitous

conveyance with steam, to short distances without. Consequently such roads as there are run laterally to the

railways, meeting them at this point or that, and thus maintaining the communication of the country. Now the

railways were of course in the hands of the armies. The few direct roads leading from North to South were in

the same condition, and the by roads were impassable from mud. The frontier of the North, therefore,

though very extended, was not very easily to be passed, unless, as I have said before, by men on foot. For

myself I confess that I was anxious to go South; but not to do so without my coats and trowsers, or shirts and

pockethandkerchiefs. The readiest way of getting across the lineand the way which was, I believe, the

most frequently usedwas from below Baltimore, in Maryland, by boat across the Potomac. But in this there

was a considerable danger of being taken, and I had no desire to become a stateprisoner in the hands of Mr.

Seward under circumstances which would have justified our Minister in asking for my release only as a

matter of favor. Therefore, when at St. Louis, I gave up all hopes of seeing "Dixie" during my present stay in

America. I presume it to be generally known that Dixie is the negro's heaven, and that the Southern slave

States, in which it is presumed that they have found a Paradise, have since the beginning of the war been so

We remained a few days at Louisville, and were greatly struck with the natural beauty of the country around

it. Indeed, as far as I was enabled to see, Kentucky has superior attractions, as a place of rural residence for an

English gentleman, to any other State in the Union. There is nothing of landscape there equal to the banks of

the Upper Mississippi, or to some parts of the Hudson River. It has none of the wild grandeur of the White

Mountains of New Hampshire, nor does it break itself into valleys equal to those of the Alleghanies, in

Pennsylvania. But all those are beauties for the tourist rather than for the resident. In Kentucky the land lays

in knolls and soft sloping hills. The trees stand apart, forming forest openings. The herbage is rich, and the

soil, though not fertile like the prairies of Illinois, or the river bottoms of the Mississippi and its tributaries, is

good, steadfast, wholesome farming ground. It is a fine country for a resident gentleman farmer, and in its

outward aspect reminds me more of England in its rural aspects than any other State which I visited. Round

Louisville there are beautiful sites for houses, of which advantage in some instances has been taken. But,

nevertheless, Louisville, though a wellbuilt, handsome city, is not now a thriving city. I liked it because the

hotel was above par, and because the country round it was good for walking; but it has not advanced as

Cincinnati and St. Louis have advanced. And yet its position on the Ohio is favorable, and it is well

circumstanced as regards the wants of its own State. But it is not a freesoil city. Nor, indeed, is St. Louis;

but St. Louis is tending that way, and has but little to do with the "domestic institution." At the hotels in

Cincinnati and St. Louis you are served by white men, and are very badly served. At Louisville the

ministration is by black men, "bound to labor." The difference in the comfort is very great. The white

servants are noisy, dirty, forgetful, indifferent, and sometimes impudent. The negroes are the very reverse of

all this; you cannot hurry them; but in all other respectsand perhaps even in that respect alsothey are

good servants. This is the work for which they seem to have been intended. But nevertheless where they are,

life and energy seem to languish, and prosperity cannot make any true advance. They are symbols of the

luxury of the white men who employ them, and as such are signs of decay and emblems of decreasing power.

They are good laborers themselves, but their very presence makes labor dishonorable. That Kentucky will

speedily rid herself of the institution, I believe firmly. When she has so done, the commercial city of that

At this very time the Federal army was commencing that series of active movements in Kentucky, and

through Tennessee, which led to such important results, and gave to the North the first solid victories which

they had gained since the contest began. On the nineteenth of January, one wing of General Buell's army,

under General Thomas, had defeated the secessionists near Somerset, in the southeastern district of Kentucky,

under General Zollicoffer, who was there killed. But in that action the attack was made by Zollicoffer and the

secessionists. When we were at Louisville we heard of the success of that gunboat expedition up the

Tennessee river by which Fort Henry was taken. Fort Henry had been built by the Confederates on the

Tennessee, exactly on the confines of the States of Tennessee and Kentucky. They had also another fort, Fort

Donelson, on the Cumberland River, which at that point runs parallel to the Tennessee, and is there distant

from it but a very few miles. Both these rivers run into the Ohio. Nashville, which is the capital of Tennessee,

is higher up on the Cumberland; and it was now intended to send the gunboats down the Tennessee back

into the Ohio, and thence up the Cumberland, there to attack Fort Donelson, and afterward to assist General

Buell's army in making its way down to Nashville. The gunboats were attached to General Halleck's army,

and received their directions from St. Louis. General Buell's headquarters were at Louisville, and his

advanced position was on the Green River, on the line of the railway from Louisville to Nashville. The

secessionists had destroyed the railway bridge over the Green River, and were now lying at Bowling Green,

between the Green River and Nashville. This place it was understood that they had fortified.

Matters were in this position when we got a military pass to go down by the railway to the army on the Green

River, for the railway was open to no one without a military pass; and we started, trusting that Providence

would supply us with rations and quarters. An officer attached to General Buell's staff, with whom however

our acquaintance was of the very slightest, had telegraphed down to say that we were coming. I cannot say

that I expected much from the message, seeing that it simply amounted to a very thin introduction to a

general officer to whom we were strangers even by name, from a gentleman to whom we had brought a note

from another gentleman whose acquaintance we had chanced to pick up on the road. We manifestly had no

right to expect much; but to us, expecting very little, very much was given. General Johnson was the officer

to whose care we were confided, he being a brigadier under General McCook, who commanded the advance.

We were met by an aiddecamp and saddle horses, and soon found ourselves in the general's tent, or rather

in a shanty formed of solid upright wooden logs, driven into the ground with the bark still on, and having the

interstices filled in with clay. This was roofed with canvas, and altogether made a very eligible military

residence. The general slept in a big box, about nine feet long and four broad, which occupied one end of the

shanty, and he seemed in all his fixings to be as comfortably put up as any gentleman might be when out on

such a picnic as this. We arrived in time for dinner, which was brought in, table and all, by two negroes. The

party was made up by a doctor, who carved, and two of the staff, and a very nice dinner we had. In half an

hour we were intimate with the whole party, and as familiar with the things around us as though we had been

living in tents all our lives. Indeed, I had by this time been so often in the tents of the Northern army, that I

almost felt entitled to make myself at home. It has seemed to me that an Englishman has always been made

welcome in these camps. There has been and is at this moment a terribly bitter feeling among Americans

against England, and I have heard this expressed quite as loudly by men in the army as by civilians; but I

think I may say that this has never been brought to bear upon individual intercourse. Certainly we have said

some very sharp things of themwords which, whether true or false, whether deserved or undeserved, must

have been offensive to them. I have known this feeling of offense to amount almost to an agony of anger. But

nevertheless I have never seen any falling off in the hospitality and courtesy generally shown by a civilized

people to passing visitors, I have argued the matter of England's course throughout the war, till I have been

hoarse with asseverating the rectitude of her conduct and her national unselfishness. I have met very strong

opponents on the subject, and have been coerced into loud strains of voice; but I never yet met one American

who was personally uncivil to me as an Englishman, or who seemed to be made personally angry by my

remarks. I found no coldness in that hospitality to which as a stranger I was entitled, because of the national

ill feeling which circumstances have engendered. And while on this subject I will remark that, when

traveling, I have found it expedient to let those with whom I might chance to talk know at once that I was an

Englishman. In fault of such knowledge things would be said which could not but be disagreeable to me; but

not even from any rough Western enthusiast in a railway carriage have I ever heard a word spoken insolently

to England, after I had made my nationality known. I have learned that Wellington was beaten at Waterloo;

that Lord Palmerston was so unpopular that he could not walk alone in the streets; that the House of

Commons was an acknowledged failure; that starvation was the normal condition of the British people, and

that the queen was a bloodthirsty tyrant. But these assertions were not made with the intention that they

should be heard by an Englishman. To us as a nation they are at the present moment unjust almost beyond

belief; but I do not think that the feeling has ever taken the guise of personal discourtesy.

We spent two days in the camp close upon the Green River, and I do not know that I enjoyed any days of my

trip more thoroughly than I did these. In truth, for the last month since I had left Washington, my life had not

been one of enjoyment. I had been rolling in mud and had been damp with filth. Camp Wood, as they called

this military settlement on the Green River, was also muddy; but we were excellently well mounted; the

weather was very cold, but peculiarly fine, and the soldiers around us, as far as we could judge, seemed to be

better off in all respects than those we had visited at St. Louis, at Rolla, or at Cairo. They were all in tents,

and seemed to be lightspirited and happy. Their rations were excellent; but so much may, I think, be said of

the whole Northern army, from Alexandria on the Potomac to Springfield in the west of Missouri. There was

very little illness at that time in the camp in Kentucky, and the reports made to us led us to think that on the

whole this had been the most healthy division of the army. The men, moreover, were less muddy than their

brethren either east or west of themat any rate this may be said of them as regards the infantry.

But perhaps the greatest charm of the place to me was the beauty of the scenery. The Green River at this spot

is as picturesque a stream as I ever remember to have seen in such a country. It lies low down between high

banks, and curves hither and thither, never keeping a straight line. Its banks are wooded; but not, as is so

common in America, by continuous, stunted, uninteresting forest, but by large single trees standing on small

patches of meadow by the water side, with the high banks rising over them, with glades through them open

for the horseman. The rides here in summer must be very lovely. Even in winter they were so, and made me

in love with the place in spite of that brown, dull, barren aspect which the presence of an army always

creates. I have said that the railway bridge which crossed the Green River at this spot had been destroyed by

the secessionists. This had been done effectually as regarded the passage of trains, but only in part as

regarded the absolute fabric of the bridge. It had been, and still was when I saw it, a beautifully light

construction, made of iron and supported over a valley, rather than over a river, on tall stone piers. One of

these piers had been blown up; but when we were there, the bridge had been repaired with beams and wooden

shafts. This had just been completed, and an engine had passed over it. I must confess that it looked to me

most perilously insecure; but the eye uneducated in such mysteries is a bad judge of engineering work. I

passed with a horse backward and forward on it, and it did not tumble down then; but I confess that on the

That bridge was certainly a beautiful fabric, and built in a most lovely spot. Immediately under it there was

also a pontoon bridge. The tents of General McCook's division were immediately at the northern end of it,

and the whole place was alive with soldiers, nailing down planks, pulling up temporary rails at each side,

carrying over straw for the horses, and preparing for the general advance of the troops. It was a glorious day.

There had been heavy frost at night; but the air was dry, and the sun though cold was bright. I do not know

when I saw a prettier picture. It would perhaps have been nothing without the loveliness of the river scenery;

but the winding of the stream at the spot, the sharp wooded hills on each side, the forest openings, and the

busy, eager, strange life together filled the place with no common interest. The officers of the army at the

spot spoke with bitterest condemnation of the vandalism of their enemy in destroying the bridge. The justice

of the indignation I ventured very strongly to question. "Surely you would have destroyed their bridge?" I

said. "But they are rebels," was the answer. It has been so throughout the contest; and the same argument has

been held by soldiers and by nonsoldiers by women and by men. "Grant that they are rebels," I have

answered. "But when rebels fight they cannot be expected to be more scrupulous in their mode of doing so

than their enemies who are not rebels." The whole population of the North has from the beginning of this war

considered themselves entitled to all the privileges of belligerents; but have called their enemies Goths and

Vandals for even claiming those privileges for themselves. The same feeling was at the bottom of their

animosity against England. Because the South was in rebellion, England should have consented to allow the

North to assume all the rights of a belligerent, and should have denied all those rights to the South! Nobody

has seemed to understand that any privilege which a belligerent can claim must depend on the very fact of his

being in encounter with some other party having the same privilege. Our press has animadverted very

strongly on the States government for the apparent untruthfulness of their arguments on this matter; but I

profess that I believe that Mr. Seward and his colleaguesand not they only but the whole nationhave so

thoroughly deceived themselves on this subject, have so talked and speechified themselves into a

misunderstanding of the matter, that they have taught themselves to think that the men of the South could be

entitled to no consideration from any quarter. To have rebelled against the stars and stripes seems to a

Northern man to be a crime putting the criminal altogether out of all courtsa crime which should have

armed the hands of all men against him, as the hands of all men are armed at a dog that is mad, or a tiger that

has escaped from its keeper. It is singular that such a people, a people that has founded itself on rebellion,

should have such a horror of rebellion; but, as far as my observation may have enabled me to read their

We were out riding early on the morning of the second day of our sojourn in the camp, and met the division

of General Mitchell, a detachment of General Buell's army, which had been in camp between the Green River

and Louisville, going forward to the bridge which was then being prepared for their passage. This division

consisted of about 12,000 men, and the road was crowded throughout the whole day with them and their

wagons. We first passed a regiment of cavalry, which appeared to be endless. Their cavalry regiments are, in

general, more numerous than those of the infantry, and on this occasion we saw, I believe, about 1200 men

pass by us. Their horses were strong and serviceable, and the men were stout and in good health; but the

general appearance of everything about them was rough and dirty. The American cavalry have always looked

to me like brigands. A party of them would, I think, make a better picture than an equal number of our

dragoons; but if they are to be regarded in any other view than that of the picturesque, it does not seem to me

that they have been got up successfully. On this occasion they were forming themselves into a picture for my

behoof, and as the picture was, as a picture, very good, I at least have no reason to complain.

We were taken to see one German regiment, a regiment of which all the privates were German and all the

officers save oneI think the surgeon. We saw the men in their tents, and the food which they eat, and were

disposed to think that hitherto things were going well with them. In the evening the colonel and

lieutenantcolonel, both of whom had been in the Prussian service, if I remember rightly, came up to the

general's quarters, and we spent the evening together in smoking cigars and discussing slavery round the

stove. I shall never forget that night, or the vehement abolition enthusiasm of the two German colonels. Our

host had told us that he was a slaveowner; and as our wants were supplied by two sable ministers, I concluded

that he had brought with him a portion of his domestic institution. Under such circumstances I myself should

have avoided such a subject, having been taught to believe that Southern gentlemen did not generally take

delight in open discussions on the subject. But had we been arguing the question of the population of the

planet Jupiter, or the final possibility of the transmutation of metals, the matter could not have been handled

with less personal feeling. The Germans, however, spoke the sentiments of all the Germans of the Western

Statesthat is, of all the Protestant Germans, and to them is confined the political influence held by the

German immigrants. They all regard slavery as an evil, holding on the matter opinions quite as strong as ours

have ever been. And they argue that as slavery is an evil, it should therefore be abolished at once. Their

opinions are as strong as ours have ever been, and they have not had our West Indian experience. Any one

desiring to understand the present political position of the States should realize the fact of the present German

influence on political questions. Many say that the present President was returned by German voters. In one

sense this is true, for he certainly could not have been returned without them; but for them, or for their

assistance, Mr. Breckinridge would have been President, and this civil war would not have come to pass. As

abolitionists they are much more powerful than the Republicans of New England, and also more in earnest. In

New England the matter is discussed politically; in the great Western towns, where the Germans congregate

by thousands, they profess to view it philosophically. A man, as a man, is entitled to freedom. That is their

argument, and it is a very old one. When you ask them what they would propose to do with 4,000,000 of

enfranchised slaves and with their ruined masters, how they would manage the affairs of those 12,000,000 of

people, all whose wealth and work and very life have hitherto been hinged and hung upon slavery, they again

ask you whether slavery is not in itself bad, and whether anything acknowledged to be bad should be allowed

But the American Germans are in earnest, and I am strongly of opinion that they will so far have their way,

that the country which for the future will be their country will exist without the taint of slavery. In the

Northern nationality, which will reform itself after this war is over, there will, I think, be no slave State. That

final battle of abolition will have to be fought among a people apart, and I must fear that while it lasts their

I trust that it may not be thought that in this chapter I am going to take upon myself the duties of a military

critic. I am well aware that I have no capacity for such a task, and that my opinion on such matters would be

worth nothing. But it is impossible to write of the American States as they were when I visited them, and to

leave that subject of the American army untouched. It was all but impossible to remain for some months in

the Northern States without visiting the army. It was impossible to join in any conversation in the States

without talking about the army. It was impossible to make inquiry as to the present and future condition of

the people without basing such inquiries more or less upon the doings of the army. If a stranger visit

Manchester with the object of seeing what sort of place Manchester is, he must visit the cotton mills and

printing establishments, though he may have no taste for cotton and no knowledge on the subject of calicoes.

Under pressure of this kind I have gone about from one army to another, looking at the drilling of regiments,

of the manoeuvres of cavalry, at the practice of artillery, and at the inner life of the camps. I do not feel that I

am in any degree more fitted to take the command of a campaign than I was before I began, or even more

fitted to say who can and who cannot do so. But I have obtained on my own mind's eye a tolerably clear

impression of the outward appearance of the Northern army; I have endeavored to learn something of the

manner in which it was brought together, and of its cost as it now stands; and I have learnedas any man in

the States may learn, without much trouble or personal investigationhow terrible has been the peculation of

the contractors and officers by whom that army has been supplied. Of these things, writing of the States at

this moment, I must say something. In what I shall say as to that matter of peculation, I trust that I may be

While I was traveling in the States of New England and in the Northwest, I came across various camps at

which young regiments were being drilled and new regiments were being formed. These lay in our way as we

made our journeys, and, therefore, we visited them; but they were not objects of any very great interest. The

men had not acquired even any pretense of soldierlike bearing. The officers for the most part had only just

been selected, having hardly as yet left their civil occupations, and anything like criticism was disarmed by

the very nature of the movement which had called the men together. I then thought, as I still think, that the

men themselves were actuated by proper motives, and often by very high motives, in joining the regiments.

No doubt they looked to the pay offered. It is not often that men are able to devote themselves to patriotism

without any reference to their personal circumstances. A man has got before him the necessity of earning his

bread, and very frequently the necessity of earning the bread of others besides himself. This comes before

him not only as his first duty, but as the very law of his existence. His wages are his life, and when he

proposes to himself to serve his country, that subject of payment comes uppermost as it does when he

proposes to serve any other master. But the wages given, though very high in comparison with those of any

other army, have not been of a nature to draw together from their distant homes, at so short a notice, so vast a

cloud of men, had no other influence been at work. As far as I can learn, the average rate of wages in the

country since the war began has been about 65 cents a day over and beyond the workman's diet. I feel

convinced that I am putting this somewhat too low, taking the average of all the markets from which the labor

has been withdrawn. In large cities labor has been much higher than this, and a considerable proportion of the

army has been taken from large cities. But, taking 65 cents a day as the average, labor has been worth about

17 dollars a month over and above the laborer's diet. In the army the soldier receives 13 dollars a month, and

also receives his diet and clothes; in addition to this, in many States, 6 dollars a month have been paid by the

State to the wives and families of those soldiers who have left wives and families in the States behind them.

Thus for the married men the wages given by the army have been 2 dollars a month, or less than 5l. a year,

more than his earnings at home, and for the unmarried man they have been 4 dollars a month, or less than 10l.

a year, below his earnings at home. But the army also gives clothing to the extent of 3 dollars a month. This

would place the unmarried soldier, in a pecuniary point of view, worse off by one dollar a month, or 2l. l0s. a

year, than he would have been at home; and would give the married man 5 dollars a month, or 12l. a year,

more than his ordinary wages, for absenting himself from his family. I cannot think, therefore, that the

Our soldiers in England enlist at wages which are about onehalf that paid in the ordinary labor market to the

class from whence they come. But labor in England is uncertain, whereas in the States it is certain. In

England the soldier with his shilling gets better food than the laborer with his two shillings; and the

Englishman has no objection to the rigidity of that discipline which is so distasteful to an American.

Moreover, who in England ever dreamed of raising 600,000 new troops in six months, out of a population of

thirty million? But this has been done in the Northern States out of a population of eighteen million. If

England were invaded, Englishmen would come forward in the same way, actuated, as I believe, by the same

high motives. My object here is simply to show that the American soldiers have not been drawn together by

They who inquire closely into the matter will find that hundreds and thousands have joined the army as

privates, who in doing so have abandoned all their best worldly prospects, and have consented to begin the

game of life again, believing that their duty to their country has now required their services. The fact has been

that in the different States a spirit of rivalry has been excited. Indiana has endeavored to show that she was as

forward as Illinois; Pennsylvania has been unwilling to lag behind New York; Massachusetts, who has

always struggled to be foremost in peace, has desired to boast that she was first in war also; the smaller States

have resolved to make their names heard, and those which at first were backward in sending troops have been

shamed into greater earnestness by the public voice. There has been a general feeling throughout the people

that the thing should be donethat the rebellion must be put down, and that it must be put down by arms.

Young men have been ashamed to remain behind; and their elders, acting under that glow of patriotism which

so often warms the hearts of free men, but which, perhaps, does not often remain there long in all its heat,

have left their wives and have gone also. It may be true that the voice of the majority has been coercive on

manythat men have enlisted partly because the public voice required it of them, and not entirely through

the promptings of individual spirit. Such public voice in America is very potent; but it is not, I think, true that

Such was my opinion of the men when I saw them from State to State clustering into their new regiments.

They did not look like soldiers; but I regarded them as men earnestly intent on a work which they believed to

be right. Afterward when I saw them in their camps, amid all the pomps and circumstances of glorious war,

positively converted into troops, armed with real rifles and doing actual military service, I believed the same

of thembut cannot say that I then liked them so well. Good motives had brought them there. They were the

same men, or men of the same class, that I had seen before. They were doing just that which I knew they

would have to do. But still I found that the more I saw of them, the more I lost of that respect for them which

I had once felt. I think it was their dirt that chiefly operated upon me. Then, too, they had hitherto done

nothing, and they seemed to be so terribly intent upon their rations! The great boast of this army was that they

eat meat twice a day, and that their daily supply of bread was more than they could consume.

When I had been two or three weeks in Washington, I went over to the army of the Potomac and spent a few

days with some of the officers. I had on previous occasions ridden about the camps, and had seen a review at

which General McClellan trotted up and down the lines with all his numerous staff at his heels. I have always

believed reviews to be absurdly useless as regards the purpose for which they are avowedly got upthat,

namely, of military inspection. And I believed this especially of this review. I do not believe that any

commanderinchief ever learns much as to the excellence or deficiencies of his troops by watching their

manoeuvres on a vast open space; but I felt sure that General McClellan had learned nothing on this occasion.

If before his review he did not know whether his men were good as soldiers, he did not possess any such

knowledge after the review. If the matter may be regarded as a review of the generalif the object was to

show him off to the men, that they might know how well he rode, and how grand he looked with his staff of

forty or fifty officers at his heels, then this review must be considered as satisfactory. General McClellan does

It was necessary to have a pass for crossing the Potomac either from one side or from the other, and such a

pass I procured from a friend in the Waroffice, good for the whole period of my sojourn in Washington. The

wording of the pass was more than ordinarily long, as it recommended me to the special courtesy of all whom

I might encounter; but in this respect it was injurious to me rather than otherwise, as every picket by whom I

was stopped found it necessary to read it to the end. The paper was almost invariably returned to me without

a word; but the musket which was not unfrequently kept extended across my horse's nose by the reader's

comrade would be withdrawn, and then I would ride on to the next barrier. It seemed to me that these passes

were so numerous and were signed by so many officers that there could have been no risk in forging them.

The army of the Potomac, into which they admitted the bearer, lay in quarters which were extended over a

length of twenty miles up and down on the Virginian side of the river, and the river could be traversed at five

different places. Crowds of men and women were going over daily, and no doubt all the visitors who so went

with innocent purposes were provided with proper passports; but any whose purposes were not innocent, and

who were not so provided, could have passed the pickets with counterfeited orders. This, I have little doubt,

was done daily. Washington was full of secessionists, and every movement of the Federal army was

communicated to the Confederates at Richmond, at which city was now established the Congress and

headquarters of the Confederacy. But no such tidings of the Confederate army reached those in command at

Washington. There were many circumstances in the contest which led to this result, and I do not think that

General McClellan had any power to prevent it. His system of passes certainly did not do so.

I never could learn from any one what was the true number of this army on the Potomac. I have been

informed by those who professed to know that it contained over 200,000 men, and by others who also

professed to know, that it did not contain 100,000. To me the soldiers seemed to be innumerable, hanging like

locusts over the whole countrya swarm desolating everything around them. Those pomps and

circumstances are not glorious in my eyes. They affect me with a melancholy which I cannot avoid. Soldiers

gathered together in a camp are uncouth and ugly when they are idle; and when they are at work their work is

worse than idleness. When I have seen a thousand men together, moving their feet hither at one sound and

thither at another, throwing their muskets about awkwardly, prodding at the air with their bayonets, trotting

twenty paces here and backing ten paces there, wheeling round in uneven lines, and looking, as they did so,

miserably conscious of the absurdity of their own performances, I have always been inclined to think how

little the world can have advanced in civilization, while grownup men are still forced to spend their days in

such grotesque performances. Those to whom the "pomps and circumstances" are dear nay, those by

whom they are considered simply necessarywill be able to confute me by a thousand arguments. I readily

own myself confuted. There must be soldiers, and soldiers must be taught. But not the less pitiful is it to see

men of thirty undergoing the goosestep, and tortured by orders as to the proper mode of handling a long

instrument which is half gun and half spear. In the days of Hector and Ajax, the thing was done in a more

picturesque manner; and the songs of battle should, I think, be confined to those ages.

The ground occupied by the divisions on the farther or southwestern side of the Potomac was, as I have said,

about twenty miles in length and perhaps seven in breadth. Through the whole of this district the soldiers

were everywhere. The tents of the various brigades were clustered together in streets, the regiments being

divided; and the divisions combining the brigades lay apart at some distance from each other. But

everywhere, at all points, there were some signs of military life. The roads were continually thronged with

wagons, and tracks were opened for horses wherever a shorter way might thus be made available. On every

side the trees were falling or had fallen. In some places whole woods had been felled with the express

purpose of rendering the ground impracticable for troops; and firs and pines lay one over the other, still

covered with their dark, rough foliage, as though a mighty forest had grown there along the ground, without

any power to raise itself toward the heavens. In other places the trees had been chopped off from their trunks

about a yard from the ground, so that the soldier who cut it should have no trouble in stooping, and the tops

had been dragged away for firewood or for the erection of screens against the wind. Here and there, in

solitary places, there were outlying tents, looking as though each belonged to some military recluse; and in

the neighborhood of every division was to be found a photographing establishment upon wheels, in order that

the men might send home to their sweethearts pictures of themselves in their martial costumes.

I wandered about through these camps both on foot and on horseback day after day; and every now and then I

would come upon a farmhouse that was still occupied by its old inhabitants. Many of such houses had been

deserted, and were now held by the senior officers of the army; but some of the old families remained, living

in the midst of this scene of war in a condition most forlorn. As for any tillage of their land, that, under such

circumstances, might be pronounced as hopeless. Nor could there exist encouragement for farmwork of any

kind. Fences had been taken down and burned; the ground had been overrun in every direction. The stock had

of course disappeared; it had not been stolen, but had been sold in a hurry for what under such circumstances

it might fetch. What farmer could work or have any hope for his land in the middle of such a crowd of

soldiers? But yet there were the families. The women were in their houses, and the children playing at their

doors; and the men, with whom I sometimes spoke, would stand around with their hands in their pockets.

They knew that they were ruined; they expected no redress. In nine cases out of ten they were inimical in

spirit to the soldiers around them. And yet it seemed that their equanimity was never disturbed. In a former

chapter I have spoken of a certain generalnot a fighting general of the army, but a local farming

generalwho spoke loudly, and with many curses, of the injury inflicted on him by the secessionists. With

that exception I heard no loud complaint of personal suffering. These Virginian farmers must have been

deprived of everythingof the very means of earning bread. They still hold by their houses, though they

were in the very thick of the war, because there they had shelter for their families, and elsewhere they might

seek it in vain. A man cannot move his wife and children if he have no place to which to move them, even

though his house be in the midst of disease, of pestilence, or of battle. So it was with them then, but it seemed

But there was a class of inhabitants in that same country to whom fate had been even more unkind than to

those whom I saw. The lines of the Northern army extended perhaps seven or eight miles from the Potomac;

and the lines of the Confederate army were distant some four miles from those of their enemies. There was,

therefore, an intervening space or strip of ground, about four miles broad, which might be said to be no man's

land. It was no man's land as to military possession, but it was still occupied by many of its old inhabitants.

These people were not allowed to pass the lines either of one army or of the other; or if they did so pass, they

were not allowed to return to their homes. To these homes they were forced to cling, and there they remained.

They had no market; no shops at which to make purchases, even if they had money to buy; no customers with

whom to deal, even if they had produce to sell. They had their cows, if they could keep them from the

Confederate soldiers, their pigs and their poultry; and on them they were livinga most forlorn life. Any

advance made by either party must be over their homesteads. In the event of battle, they would be in the

midst of it; and in the mean time they could see no one, hear of nothing, go nowhither beyond the limits of

The earth was hard with frost when I paid my visit to the camp, and the general appearance of things around

my friend's quarters was on that account cheerful enough. It was the mud which made things sad and

wretched. When the frost came it seemed as though the army had overcome one of its worst enemies.

Unfortunately cold weather did not last long. I have been told in Washington that they rarely have had so

open a season. Soon after my departure that terrible enemy the mud came back upon them; but during my

stay the ground was hard and the weather very sharp. I slept in a tent, and managed to keep my body warm by

an enormous overstructure of blankets and coats; but I could not keep my head warm. Throughout the night I

had to go down like a fish beneath the water for protection, and come up for air at intervals, half smothered. I

had a stove in my tent; but the heat of that, when lighted, was more terrible than the severity of the frost.

The tents of the brigade with which I was staying had been pitched not without an eye to appearances. They

were placed in streets as it were, each street having its name, and between them screens had been erected of

fir poles and fir branches, so as to keep off the wind. The outside boundaries of the nearest regiment were

ornamented with arches, crosses, and columns, constructed in the same way; so that the quarters of the men

were reached, as it were, through gateways. The whole thing was pretty enough; and while the ground was

hard the camp was picturesque, and a visit to it was not unpleasant. But unfortunately the ground was in its

nature soft and deep, composed of red clay; and as the frost went and the wet weather came, mud became

omnipotent and destroyed all prettiness. And I found that the cold weather, let it be ever so cold, was not

severe upon the men. It was wet which they feared and had cause to fear, both for themselves and for their

horses. As to the horses, but few of them were protected by any shelter or covering whatsoever. Through both

frost and wet they remained out, tied to the wheel of a wagon or to some temporary rack at which they were

fed. In England we should imagine that any horse so treated must perish; but here the animal seemed to stand

it. Many of them were miserable enough in appearance, but nevertheless they did the work required of them. I

have observed that horses throughout the States are treated in a hardier manner than is usually the case with

At the period of which I am speakingJanuary, 1862the health of the army of the Potomac was not as

good as it had been, and was beginning to give way under the effects of the winter. Measles had become very

prevalent, and also smallpox, though not of a virulent description; and men, in many instances, were sinking

under fatigue. I was informed by various officers that the Irish regiments were on the whole the most

satisfactory. Not that they made the best soldiers, for it was asserted that they were worse, as soldiers, than

the Americans or Germans; not that they became more easily subject to rule, for it was asserted that they

were unruly; but because they were rarely ill. Diseases which seized the American troops on all sides seemed

to spare them. The mortality was not excessive, but the men became sick and ailing, and fell under the

Mr. Olmstead, whose name is well known in England as a writer on the Southern States, was at this time

secretary to a sanitary commission on the army, and published an abstract of the results of the inquiries made,

on which I believe perfect reliance may be placed. This inquiry was extended to two hundred regiments,

which were presumed to be included in the army of the Potomac; but these regiments were not all located on

the Virginian side of the river, and must not therefore be taken as belonging exclusively to the divisions of

which I have been speaking. Mr. Olmstead says: "The health of our armies is evidently not above the average

of armies in the field. The mortality of the army of the Potomac during the summer months averaged 3 1/2

per cent., and for the whole army it is stated at 5 per cent." "Of the camps inspected, 5 per cent.," he says,

"were in admirable order; 44 per cent. fairly clean and well policed. The condition of 26 per cent. was

negligent and slovenly, and of 24 per cent. decidedly bad, filthy, and dangerous." Thus 50 per cent. were

either negligent and slovenly, or filthy and dangerous. I wonder what the report would have been had Camp

Benton, at St. Louis, been surveyed! "In about 80 per cent. of the regiments the officers claimed to give

systematic attention to the cleanliness of the men; but it is remarked that they rarely enforced the washing of

the feet, and not always of the head and neck." I wish Mr. Olmstead had added that they never enforced the

cutting of the hair. No single trait has been so decidedly disadvantageous to the appearance of the American

army as the long, uncombed, rough locks of hair which the men have appeared so loath to abandon. In

reading the above one cannot but think of the condition of those other twenty regiments!

According to Mr. Olmstead twothirds of the men were native born, and onethird was composed of

foreigners. These foreigners are either Irish or German. Had a similar report been made of the armies in the

West, I think it would have been seen that the proportion of foreigners was still greater. The average age of

the privates was something under twentyfive, and that of the officers thirtyfour. I may here add, from my

own observation, that an officer's rank could in no degree be predicated from his age. Generals, colonels,

majors, captains, and lieutenants had been all appointed at the same time, and without reference to age or

qualification. Political influence, or the power of raising recruits, had been the standard by which military

rank was distributed. The old West Point officers had generally been chosen for high commands, but beyond

this everything was necessarily new. Young colonels and ancient captains abounded without any harsh

feeling as to the matter on either side. Indeed, in this respect, the practice of the country generally was simply

carried out. Fathers and mothers in America seem to obey their sons and daughters naturally, and as they

Mr. Olmstead says that food was found to be universally good and abundant. On this matter Mr. Olmstead

might have spoken in stronger language without exaggeration. The food supplied to the American armies has

been extravagantly good, and certainly has been wastefully abundant. Very much has been said of the cost of

the American army, and it has been made a matter of boasting that no army so costly has ever been put into

the field by any other nation. The assertion is, I believe, at any rate true. I have found it impossible to

ascertain what has hitherto been expended on the army. I much doubt whether even Mr. Chase, the Secretary

of the Treasury, or Mr. Stanton, the Secretary of War, know themselves, and I do not suppose that Mr.

Stanton's predecessor much cared. Some approach, however, may be reached to the amount actually paid in

wages and for clothes and diet; and I give below a statement which I have seen of the actual annual sum

proposed to be expended on these heads, presuming the army to consist of 500,000 men. The army is stated

to contain 660,000 men, but the former numbers given would probably be found to be nearer the mark:

To this must be added the cost of diet and clothing. The food of the men, I was informed, was supplied at an

average cost of l7 cents a day, which, for an army of 500,000 men, would amount to 6,200,000 pounds per

annum. The clothing of the men is shown by the printed statement of their War Department to amount to

$3.00 a month for a period of five years. That, at least, is the amount allowed to a private of infantry or

artillery. The cost of the cavalry uniforms and of the dress of the noncommissioned officers is something

higher, but not sufficiently so to make it necessary to make special provision for the difference in a statement

so rough as this. At $3.00 a month the clothing of the army would amount to 3,600,000 pounds. The actual

I believe that these figures may be trusted, unless it be with reference to that sum of $l7,000,000, or

3,400,000 pounds, which is presumed to include the salaries of all general officers, with their staffs, and also

the extra wages paid to soldiers in certain cases. This is given as an estimate, and may be over or under the

mark. The sum named as the cost of clothing would be correct, or nearly so, if the army remained in its

present force for five years. If it so remained for only one year, the cost would be onefifth higher. It must of

course be remembered that the sum above named includes simply the wages, clothes, and food of the men. It

does not comprise the purchase of arms, horses, ammunition, or wagons; the forage of horses; the transport of

troops, or any of those incidental expenses of warfare which are always, I presume, heavier than the absolute

cost of the men, and which, in this war, have been probably heavier than in any war ever waged on the face of

God's earth. Nor does it include that terrible item of peculation, as to which I will say a word or two before I

The yearly total payment of the officers and soldiers of the army is as follows. As regards the officers, it must

be understood that this includes all the allowances made to them, except as regards those on the staff. The

sums named apply only to the infantry and artillery. The pay of the cavalry is about ten per cent. higher:

In every grade named the pay is, I believe, higher than that given by us, or, as I imagine, by any other nation.

It is, however, probable that the extra allowances paid to some of our higher officers when on duty may give

to their positions for a time a higher pecuniary remuneration. It will of course be understood that there is

nothing in the American army answering to our colonel of a regiment. With us the officer so designated holds

I have already spoken of my visits to the camps of the other armies in the field, that of General Halleck, who

held his headquarters at St. Louis, in Missouri, and that of General Buell, who was at Louisville, in Kentucky.

There was also a fourth army under General Hunter, in Kansas, but I did not make my way as far west as that.

I do not pretend to any military knowledge, and should be foolish to attempt military criticism; but as far as I

could judge by appearance, I should say that the men in Buell's army were, of the three, in the best order.

They seemed to me to be cleaner than the others, and, as far as I could learn, were in better health. Want of

discipline and dirt have, no doubt, been the great faults of the regiments generally, and the latter drawback

may probably be included in the former. These men have not been accustomed to act under the orders of

superiors, and when they entered on the service hardly recognized the fact that they would have to do so in

aught else than in their actual drill and fighting. It is impossible to conceive any class of men to whom the

necessary discipline of a soldier would come with more difficulty than to an American citizen. The whole

training of his life has been against it. He has never known respect for a master, or reverence for men of a

higher rank than himself. He has probably been made to work hard for his wages harder than an

Englishman worksbut he has been his employer's equal. The language between them has been the language

of equals, and their arrangement as to labor and wages has been a contract between equals. If he did not work

he would not get his moneyand perhaps not if he did. Under these circumstances he has made his fight

with the world; but those circumstances have never taught him that special deference to a superior, which is

the first essential of a soldier's duty. But probably in no respect would that difficulty be so severely felt as in

all matters appertaining to personal habits. Here at any rate the man would expect to be still his own master,

acting for himself and independent of all outer control. Our English Hodge, when taken from the plow to the

camp, would, probably, submit without a murmur to soap and water and a barber's shears; he would have

received none of that education which would prompt him to rebel against such ordinances; but the American

citizen, who for awhile expects to shake hands with his captain whenever he sees him, and is astonished when

he learns that he must not offer him drinks, cannot at once be brought to understand that he is to be treated

like a child in the nursery; that he must change his shirt so often, wash himself at such and such intervals, and

go through a certain process of cleansing his outward garments daily. I met while traveling a sergeant of a

regiment of the American regulars, and he spoke of the want of discipline among the volunteers as hopeless.

But even he instanced it chiefly by their want of cleanliness. "They wear their shirts till they drop off their

backs," said he; "and what can you expect from such men as that?" I liked that sergeant for his zeal and

intelligence, and also for his courtesy when he found that I was an Englishman; for previous to his so finding

he had begun to abuse the English roundlybut I did not quite agree with him about the volunteers. It is very

bad that soldiers should be dirty, bad also that they should treat their captains with familiarity, and desire to

exchange drinks with the majors. But even discipline is not everything; and discipline will come at last even

to the American soldiers, distasteful as it may be, when the necessity for it is made apparent. But these

volunteers have great military virtues. They are intelligent, zealous in their cause, handy with arms, willing

enough to work at all military duties, and personally brave. On the other hand, they are sickly, and there has

been a considerable amount of drunkenness among them. No man who has looked to the subject can, I think,

doubt that a native American has a lower physical development than an Irishman, a German, or an

Englishman. They become old sooner, and die at an earlier age. As to that matter of drink, I do not think that

much need be said against them. English soldiers get drunk when they have the means of doing so, and

American soldiers would not get drunk if the means were taken away from them. A little drunkenness goes a

long way in a camp, and ten drunkards will give a bad name to a company of a hundred. Let any man travel

with twenty men of whom four are tipsy, and on leaving them he will tell you that every man of them was a

I have said that these men are brave, and I have no doubt that they are so. How should it be otherwise with

men of such a race? But it must be remembered that there are two kinds of courage, one of which is very

common and the other very uncommon. Of the latter description of courage it cannot be expected that much

should be found among the privates of any army, and perhaps not very many examples among the officers. It

is a courage selfsustained, based on a knowledge of the right, and on a lifelong calculation that any results

coming from adherence to the right will be preferable to any that can be produced by a departure from it. This

is the courage which will enable a man to stand his ground, in battle or elsewhere, though broken worlds

should fall around him. The other courage, which is mainly an affair of the heart or blood and not of the

brain, always requires some outward support. The man who finds himself prominent in danger bears himself

gallantly, because the eyes of many will see him; whether as an old man he leads an army, or as a young man

goes on a forlorn hope, or as a private carries his officer on his back out of the fire, he is sustained by the love

of praise. And the men who are not individually prominent in danger, who stand their ground shoulder to

shoulder, bear themselves gallantly also, each trusting in the combined strength of his comrades. When such

combined courage has been acquired, that useful courage is engendered which we may rather call confidence,

and which of all courage is the most serviceable in the army. At the battle of Bull's Run the army of the North

became panicstricken, and fled. From this fact many have been led to believe that the American soldiers

would not fight well, and that they could not be brought to stand their ground under fire. This I think has been

an unfair conclusion. In the first place, the history of the battle of Bull's Run has yet to be written; as yet the

history of the flight only has been given to us. As far as I can learn, the Northern soldiers did at first fight

well; so well, that the army of the South believed itself to be beaten. But a panic was createdat first, as it

seems, among the teamsters and wagons. A cry was raised, and a rush was made by hundreds of drivers with

their carts and horses; and then men who had never seen war before, who had not yet had three months'

drilling as soldiers, to whom the turmoil of that day must have seemed as though hell were opening upon

them, joined themselves to the general clamor and fled to Washington, believing that all was lost. But at the

same time the regiments of the enemy were going through the same farce in the other direction! It was a

battle between troops who knew nothing of battles; of soldiers who were not yet soldiers. That individual

highminded courage which would have given to each individual recruit the selfsustained power against a

panic, which is to be looked for in a general, was not to be looked for in them. Of the other courage of which

I have spoken, there was as much as the circumstances of the battle would allow.

On subsequent occasions the men have fought well. We should, I think, admit that they have fought very well

when we consider how short has been their practice at such work. At Somerset, at Fort Henry, at Fort

Donelson, at Corinth, the men behaved with courage, standing well to their arms, though at each place the

slaughter among them was great. They have always gone well into fire, and have general]y borne themselves

well under fire. I am convinced that we in England can make no greater mistake than to suppose that the

But now I must come to a matter in which a terrible deficiency has been shown, not by the soldiers, but by

those whose duty it has been to provide for the soldiers. It is impossible to speak of the army of the North and

to leave untouched that hideous subject of army contracts. And I think myself the more specially bound to

allude to it because I feel that the iniquities which have prevailed prove with terrible earnestness the

demoralizing power of that dishonesty among men in high places, which is the one great evil of the American

States. It is there that the deficiency exists, which must be supplied before the public men of the nation can

take a high rank among other public men. There is the gangrene, which must be cut out before the

government, as a government, can be great. To make money is the one thing needful, and men have been

anxious to meddle with the affairs of government, because there might money be made with the greatest ease.

"Make money," the Roman satirist said; "make it honestly if you can, but at any rate make money." That first

counsel would be considered futile and altogether vain by those who have lately dealt with the public wants

This is bad in a most fatal degree, not mainly because men in high places have been dishonest, or because the

government has been badly served by its own paid officers. That men in high places should be dishonest, and

that the people should be cheated by their rulers, is very bad. But there is worse than this. The thing becomes

so common, and so notorious, that the American world at large is taught to believe that dishonesty is in itself

good. "It behoves a man to be smart, sir!" Till the opposite doctrine to that be learned; till men in

Americaay, and in Europe, Asia, and Africacan learn that it specially behoves a man not to be smart,

they will have learned little of their duty toward God, and nothing of their duty toward their neighbor.

In the instances of fraud against the States government to which I am about to allude, I shall take all my facts

from the report made to the House of Representatives at Washington by a committee of that House in

December, 1861. "Mr. Washburne, from the Select Committee to inquire into the Contracts of the

Government, made the following Report." That is the heading of the pamphlet. The committee was known as

The committee first went to New York, and began their inquiries with reference to the purchase of a

steamboat called the "Catiline." In this case a certain Captain Comstock had been designated from

Washington as the agent to be trusted in the charter or purchase of the vessel. He agreed on behalf of the

government to hire that special boat for 2000l. a month for three months, having given information to friends

of his on the matter, which enabled them to purchase it out and out for less than 4000l. These friends were not

connected with shipping matters, but were lawyers and hotel proprietors. The committee conclude "that the

vessel was chartered to the government at an unconscionable price; and that Captain Comstock, by whom this

was effected, while enjoying THE PECULIAR CONFIDENCE OF THE GOVERNMENT, was acting for

and in concert with the parties who chartered the vessel, and was in fact their agent." But the report does not

explain why Captain Comstock was selected for this work by authority from Washington, nor does it

recommend that he be punished. It does not appear that Captain Comstock had ever been in the regular

In the next place one Starbuck is employed to buy ships. As a government agent he buys two for 1300l. and

sells them to the government for 2900l. The vessels themselves, when delivered at the navy yard, were found

to be totally unfit for the service for which they had been purchased. But why was Starbuck employed, when,

as appears over and over again in the report, New York was full of paid government servants ready and fit to

do the work? Starbuck was merely an agent, and who will believe that he was allowed to pocket the whole

difference of 1600l.? The greater part of the plunder was, however, in this case refunded.

Then we come to the case of Mr. George D. Morgan, brotherinlaw of Mr. Welles, the Secretary of the

Navy. I have spoken of this gentleman before, and of his singular prosperity. He amassed a large fortune in

five months, as a government agent for the purchase of vessels, he having been a wholesale grocer by trade.

This gentleman had had no experience whatsoever with reference to ships. It is shown by the evidence that he

had none of the requisite knowledge, and that there were special servants of the government in New York at

that time, sent there specially for such services as these, who were in every way trustworthy, and who had the

requisite knowledge. Yet Mr. Morgan was placed in this position by his brotherinlaw, the Secretary of the

Navy, and in that capacity made about 20,000l. in five months, all of which was paid by the government, as is

well shown to have been the fact in the report before me. One result of such a mode of agency is given; one

other result, I mean, besides the 20,000l. put into the pocket of the brother of the Secretary of the Navy. A

ship called the "Stars and Stripes" was bought by Mr. Morgan for 11,000l., which had been built some

months before for 7000l. This vessel was bought from a company which was blessed with a president. The

president made the bargain with the government agent, but insisted on keeping back from his own company

2000l. out of the 11,000l. for expenses incident to the purchase. The company did not like being mulcted of

its prey, and growled heavily; but their president declared that such bargains were not got at Washington for

nothing. Members of Congress had to be paid to assist in such things. At least he could not reduce his little

private bill for such assistance below 1600l. He had, he said, positively paid out so much to those venal

members of Congress, and had made nothing for himself to compensate him for his own exertions. When this

president came to be examined, he admitted that he had really made no payments to members of Congress.

His own capacity had been so great that no such assistance had been found necessary. But he justified his

charge on the ground that the sum taken by him was no more than the company might have expected him to

lay out on members of Congress, or on exmembers who are specially mentioned, had he not himself carried

on the business with such consummate discretion! It seems to me that the members or ex members of

The report deals manfully with Mr. Morgan, showing that for five months' workwhich work he did not do

and did not know how to do he received as large a sum as the President's salary for the whole Presidential

term of four years. So much better is it to be an agent of government than simply an officer! And the

committee adds, that they "do not find in this transaction the less to censure in the fact that this arrangement

between the Secretary of the Navy and Mr. Morgan was one between brothersinlaw." After that who will

believe that Mr. Morgan had the whole of that 20,000l. for himself? And yet Mr. Welles still remains

Secretary of the Navy, and has justified the whole transaction in an explanation admitting everything, and

which is considered by his friends to be an able State paper. "It behoves a man to be smart, sir." Mr. Morgan

and Secretary Welles will no doubt be considered by their own party to have done their duty well as

hightrading public functionaries. The faults of Mr. Morgan and of Secretary Welles are nothing to us in

England; but the light in which such faults may be regarded by the American people is much to us.

I will now go on to the case of a Mr. Cummings. Mr. Cummings, it appears, had been for many years the

editor of a newspaper in Philadelphia, and had been an intimate political friend and ally of Mr. Cameron.

Now at the time of which I am writing, April, 1861, Mr. Cameron was Secretary of War, and could be very

useful to an old political ally living in his own State. The upshot of the present case will teach us to think well

In April, 1861, stores were wanted for the army at Washington, and Mr. Cameron gave an order to his old

friend Cummings to expend 2,000,000 dollars, pretty much according to his fancy, in buying stores.

Governor Morgan, the Governor of New York State, and a relative of our other friend Morgan, was joined

with Mr. Cummings in this commission, Mr. Cameron no doubt having felt himself bound to give the friends

of his colleague at the Navy a chance. Governor Morgan at once made over his right to his relative; but better

things soon came in Mr. Morgan's way, and he relinquished his share in this partnership at an early date. In

this transaction he did not himself handle above 25,000 dollars. Then the whole job fell into the hands of Mr.

The 2,000,000 dollars, or 400,000l., were paid into the hands of certain government treasurers at New York,

but they had orders to honor the draft of the political friend of the Secretary of War, and consequently

50,000l. was immediately withdrawn by Mr. Cummings, and with this he went to work. It is shown that he

knew nothing of the business; that he employed a clerk from Albany whom he did not know, and confided to

this clerk the duty of buying such stores as were bought; that this clerk was recommended to him by Mr.

Weed, the editor of a newspaper at Albany, who is known in the States as the special political friend of Mr.

Seward, the Secretary of State; and that in this way he spent 32,000l. He bought linen pantaloons and straw

hats to the amount of 4200l., because he thought the soldiers looked hot in the warm weather; but he

afterward learned that they were of no use. He bought groceries of a hardware dealer named Davidson, at

Albany, that town whence came Mr. Weed's clerk. He did not know what was Davidson's trade, nor did he

know exactly what he was going to buy; but Davidson proposed to sell him something which Mr. Cummings

believed to be some kind of provisions, and he bought it. He did not know for how muchwhether over

2000l. or not. He never saw the articles, and had no knowledge of their quality. It was out of the question that

he should have such knowledge, as he naively remarks. His clerk Humphreys saw the articles. He presumed

they were brought from Albany, but did not know. He afterward bought a shipor two or three ships. He

inspected one ship "by a mere casual visit:" that is to say, he did not examine her boilers; he did not know her

tonnage, but he took the word of the seller for everything. He could not state the terms of the charter, or give

the substance of it. He had had no former experience in buying or chartering ships. He also bought 75,000

pairs of shoes at only 25 cents (or one shilling) a pair more than their proper price. He bought them of a Mr.

Hall, who declares that he paid Mr. Cummings nothing for the job, but regarded it as a return for certain

previous favors conferred by him on Mr. Cummings in the occasional loans of 100l. or 200l.

At the end of the examination it appears that Mr. Cummings still held in his hand a slight balance of 28,000l.,

of which he had forgotten to make mention in the body of his own evidence. "This item seems to have been

overlooked by him in his testimony," says the report. And when the report was made, nothing had yet been

Then the report gives a list of the army supplies miscellaneously purchased by Mr. Cummings: 280 dozen

pints of ale at 9s. 6d. a dozen; a lot of codfish and herrings; 200 boxes of cheeses and a large assortment of

butter; some tongues; straw hats and linen "pants;" 23 barrels of pickles; 25 casks of Scotch ale, price not

stated; a lot of London porter, price not stated; and some Hall carbines of which I must say a word more

further on. It should be remembered that no requisition had come from the army for any of the articles

named; that the purchase of herrings and straw hats was dictated solely by the discretion of Cummings and

his man Humphreys, or, as is more probable, by the fact that some other person had such articles by him for

sale; and that the government had its own established officers for the supply of things properly ordered by

military requisition. These very same articles also were apparently procured, in the first place, as a private

speculation, and were made over to the government on the failure of that speculation. "Some of the above

articles," says the report, "were shipped by the Catiline, which was probably loaded on private account, and,

not being able to obtain a clearance, was, in some way, through Mr. Cummings, transferred over to the

governmentSCOTCH ALE, LONDON PORTER, SELECTED HERRINGS, and all." The italics, as well

This was the confidential political friend of the Secretary of War, by whom he was intrusted with 400,000l. of

public money! Twenty eight thousand pounds had not been accounted for when the report was made, and

the army supplies were bought after the fashion above named. That Secretary of War, Mr. Cameron, has since

left the cabinet; but he has not been turned out in disgrace; he has been nominated as Minister to Russia, and

the world has been told that there was some difference of opinion between him and his colleagues respecting

slavery! Mr. Cameron, in some speech or paper, declared on his leaving the cabinet that he had not intended

to remain long as Secretary of War. This assertion, I should think, must have been true.

And now about the Hall carbines, as to which the gentlemen on this committee tell their tale with an evident

delight in the richness of its incidents which at once puts all their readers in accord with them. There were

altogether some five thousand of these, all of which the government sold to a Mr. Eastman in June, 1861, for

14s. each, as perfectly useless, and afterward bought in August for 4l. 8s. each, about 4s. a carbine having

been expended in their repair in the mean time. But as regards 790 of these now famous weapons, it must be

explained they had been sold by the government as perfectly useless, and at a nominal price, previously to

this second sale made by the government to Mr. Eastman. They had been so sold, and then, in April, 1861,

they had been bought again for the government by the indefatigable Cummings for 3l. each. Then they were

again sold as useless for 14s. each to Eastman, and instantly rebought on behalf of the government for 4l. 8s.

each! Useless for war purposes they may have been, but as articles of commerce it must be confessed that

This last purchase was made by a man named Stevens on behalf of General Fremont, who at that time

commanded the army of the United States in Missouri. Stevens had been employed by General Fremont as an

agent on the behalf of government, as is shown with clearness in the report, and on hearing of these muskets

telegraphed to the general at once: "I have 5000 Hall's rifled caststeel muskets, breachloading, new, at 22

dollars." General Fremont telegraphed back instantly: "I will take the whole 5000 carbines. . . . I will pay all

extra charges." . . . . And so the purchase was made. The muskets, it seems, were not absolutely useless even

as weapons of war. "Considering the emergency of the times?" a competent witness considered them to be

worth "10 or 12 dollars." The government had been as much cheated in selling them as it had in buying them.

But the nature of the latter transaction is shown by the facts that Stevens was employed, though irresponsibly

employed, as a government agent by General Fremont; that he bought the muskets in that character himself,

making on the transaction 1l. 18s. on each musket; and that the same man afterward appeared as an

aiddecamp on General Fremont's staff. General Fremont had no authority himself to make such a purchase,

and when the money was paid for the first installment of the arms, it was so paid by the special order of

General Fremont himself out of moneys intended to be applied to other purposes. The money was actually

paid to a gentleman known at Fremont's headquarters as his special friend, and was then paid in that irregular

way because this friend desired that that special bill should receive immediate payment. After that, who can

believe that Stevens was himself allowed to pocket the whole amount of the plunder?

There is a nice little story of a clergyman in New York who sold, for 40l. and certain further contingencies,

the right to furnish 200 cavalry horses; but I should make this too long if I told all the nice little stories. As

the frauds at St. Louis were, if not in fact the most monstrous, at any rate the most monstrous which have as

yet been brought to the light, I cannot finish this account without explaining something of what was going on

General Fremont, soon after reaching St. Louis, undertook to build ten forts for the protection of that city.

These forts have since been pronounced as useless, and the whole measure has been treated with derision by

officers of his own army. But the judgment displayed in the matter is a military question with which I do not

presume to meddle. Even if a general be wrong in such a matter, his character as a man is not disgraced by

such error. But the manner of building them was the affair with which Mr. Van Wyck's Committee had to

deal. It seems that five of the forts, the five largest, were made under the orders of a certain Major Kappner,

at a cost of 12,000l., and that the other five could have been built at least for the same sum. Major Kappner

seems to have been a good and honest public servant, and therefore quite unfit for the superintendence of

such work at St. Louis. The other five smaller forts were also in progress, the works on them having been

continued from 1st of September to 25th of September, 1861; but on the 25th of September General Fremont

himself gave special orders that a contract should be made with a man named Beard, a Californian, who had

followed him from California to St. Louis. This contract is dated the 25th of September. But nevertheless the

work specified in that contract was done previous to that date, and most of the money paid was paid previous

to that date. The contract did not specify any lump sum, but agreed that the work should be paid for by the

yard and by the square foot. No less a sum was paid to Beard for this workthe cormorant Beard, as the

report calls himthan 24,200l., the last payment only, amounting to 4000l., having been made subsequent to

the date of the contract. Twenty thousand two hundred pounds was paid to Beard before the date of the

contract! The amounts were paid at five times, and the last four payments were made on the personal order of

General Fremont. This Beard was under no bond, and none of the officers of the government knew anything

of the terms under which he was working. On the 14th of October General Fremont was ordered to

discontinue these works, and to abstain from making any further payments on their account. But, disobeying

this order, he directed his quartermaster to pay a further sum of 4000l. to Beard out of the first sums he

should receive from Washington, he then being out of money. This, however, was not paid. "It must be

understood," says the report, "that every dollar ordered to be paid by General Fremont on account of these

works was diverted from a fund specially appropriated for another purpose." And then again: "The money

appropriated by Congress to subsist and clothe and transport our armies was then, in utter contempt of all law

and of the army regulations, as well as in defiance of superior authority, ordered to be diverted from its lawful

purpose and turned over to the cormorant Beard. While he had received l70,000 dollars (24,200l.) from the

government, it will be seen from the testimony of Major Kappner that there had only been paid to the honest

German laborers, who did the work on the first five forts built under his directions, the sum of 15,500 dollars,

(3100l.,) leaving from 40,000 to 50,000 dollars (8000l. to 10,000l.) still due; and while these laborers, whose

families were clamoring for bread, were besieging the quartermaster's department for their pay, this infamous

contractor Beard is found following up the army and in the confidence of the majorgeneral, who gives him

orders for large purchases, which could only have been legally made through the quartermaster's department."

After that, who will believe that all the money went into Beard's pocket? Why should General Fremont have

committed every conceivable breach of order against his government, merely with the view of favoring such

The collusion of the Quartermaster M'Instry with fraudulent knaves in the purchase of horses is then proved.

M'Instry was at this time Fremont's quartermaster at St. Louis. I cannot go through all these. A man of the

name of Jim Neil comes out in beautiful pre eminence. No dealer in horses could get to the quartermaster

except through Jim Neil, or some such gobetween. The quartermaster contracted with Neil and Neil with the

owners of horses; Neil at the time being also military inspector of horses for the quartermaster. He bought

horses as cavalry horses for 24l. or less, and passed them himself as artillery horses for 30l. In other cases the

military inspectors were paid by the sellers to pass horses. All this was done under Quartermaster M'Instry,

who would himself deal with none but such as Neil. In one instance, one Elliard got a contract from M'instry,

the profit of which was 8000l. But there was a man named Brady. Now Brady was a friend of M'Instry, who,

scenting the carrion afar off, had come from Detroit, in Michigan, to St. Louis. M'instry himself had also

come from Detroit. In this case Elliard was simply directed by M'Instry to share his profits with Brady, and

consequently paid to Brady 4000l., although Brady gave to the business neither capital nor labor. He simply

took the 4000l. as the quartermaster's friend. This Elliard, it seems, also gave a carriage and horses to Mrs.

Fremont. Indeed, Elliard seems to have been a civil and generous fellow. Then there is a man named

Thompson, whose case is very amusing. Of him the committee thus speaks: "It must be said that Thompson

was not forgetful of the obligations of gratitude, for, after he got through with the contract, he presented the

son of Major M'instry with a riding pony. That was the only mark of respect," to use his own words, "that he

General Fremont himself desired that a contract should be made with one Augustus Sacchi for a thousand

Canadian horses. It turned out that Sacchi was "nobody: a man of straw living in a garret in New York, whom

nobody knew, a man who was brought out there"to St. Louis"as a good person through whom to work."

"It will hardly be believed," says the report, "that the name of this same man Sacchi appears in the

newspapers as being on the staff of General Fremont, at Springfield, with the rank of captain."

I do not know that any good would result from my pursuing further the details of this wonderful report. The

remaining portion of it refers solely to the command held by General Fremont in Missouri, and adds proof

upon proof of the gross robberies inflicted upon the government of the States by the very persons set in high

authority to protect the government. We learn how all utensils for the camp, kettles, blankets, shoes, mess

pans, etc., were supplied by one firm, without a contract, at an enormous price, and of a quality so bad as to

be almost useless, because the quartermaster was under obligations to the partners. We learn that one partner

in that firm gave 40l. toward a service of plate for the quartermaster, and 60l. toward a carriage for Mrs.

Fremont. We learn how futile were the efforts of any honest tradesman to supply good shoes to soldiers who

were shoeless, and the history of one special pair of shoes which was thrust under the nose of the

quartermaster is very amusing. We learn that a certain paymaster properly refused to settle an account for

matters with which he had no concern, and that General Fremont at once sent down soldiers to arrest him

unless he made the illegal payment. In October 1000l. was expended in ice, all which ice was wasted.

Regiments were sent hither and thither with no military purpose, merely because certain officers, calling

themselves generals, desired to make up brigades for themselves. Indeed, every description of fraud was

perpetrated, and this was done not through the negligence of those in high command, but by their connivance

It will be said that the conduct of General Fremont during the days of his command in Missouri is not a

matter of much moment to us in England; that it has been properly handled by the committee of

Representatives appointed by the American Congress to inquire into the matter; and that after the publication

of such a report by them, it is ungenerous in a writer from another nation to speak upon the subject. This

would be so if the inquiries made by that committee and their report had resulted in any general

condemnation of the men whose misdeeds and peculations have been exposed. This, however, is by no means

the case. Those who were heretofore opposed to General Fremont on political principles are opposed to him

still; but those who heretofore supported him are ready to support him again. He has not been placed beyond

the pale of public favor by the record which has been made of his public misdeeds. He is decried by the

Democrats because he is a Republican, and by the antiabolitionists because he is an Abolitionist; but he is

not decried because he has shown himself to be dishonest in the service of his government. He was dismissed

from his command in the West, but men on his side of the question declare that he was so dismissed because

his political opponents had prevailed. Now, at the moment that I am writing this, men are saying that the

President must give him another command. He is still a majorgeneral in the army of the States, and is as

* Since this was written, General Fremont has been restored to high military command, and now holds rank

and equal authority with McClellan and Halleck. In fact, the charges made against him by the committee of

the House of Representatives have not been allowed to stand in his way. He is politically popular with a large

section of the nation, and therefore it has been thought well to promote him to high place. Whether he be fit

for such place either as regards capability or integrity, seems to be considered of no moment.

The same argument must be used with reference to the other gentlemen named. Mr. Welles is still a cabinet

minister and Secretary of the Navy. It has been found impossible to keep Mr. Cameron in the cabinet, but he

was named as the minister of the States government to Russia, after the publication of the Van Wyck report,

when the result of his old political friendship with Mr. Alexander Cummings was well known to the President

who appointed him and to the Senate who sanctioned his appointment. The individual corruption of any one

manof any ten menis not much. It should not be insisted on loudly by any foreigner in making up a

balancesheet of the virtues and vices of the good and bad qualities of any nation. But the light in which such

corruption is viewed by the people whom it most nearly concerns is very much. I am far from saying that

democracy has failed in America. Democracy there has done great things for a numerous people, and will yet,

as I think, be successful. But that doctrine as to the necessity of smartness must be eschewed before a verdict

in favor of American democracy can be pronounced. "It behoves a man to be smart, sir." In those words are

contained the curse under which the States government has been suffering for the last thirty years. Let us

hope that the people will find a mode of ridding themselves of that curse. I, for one, believe that they will do

From Louisville we returned to Cincinnati, in making which journey we were taken to a place called

Seymour, in Indiana, at which spot we were to "make connection" with the train running on the Mississippi

and Ohio line from St. Louis to Cincinnati. We did make the connection, but were called upon to remain four

hours at Seymour in consequence of some accident on the line. In the same way, when going eastward from

Cincinnati to Baltimore a few days later, I was detained another four hours at a place called Crestline, in

Ohio. On both occasions I spent my time in realizing, as far as that might be possible, the sort of life which

men lead who settle themselves at such localities. Both these townsfor they call themselves townshad

been created by the railways. Indeed this has been the case with almost every place at which a few hundred

inhabitants have been drawn together in the Western States. With the exception of such cities as Chicago, St.

Louis, and Cincinnati, settlers can hardly be said to have chosen their own localities. These have been chosen

for them by the originators of the different lines of railway. And there is nothing in Europe in any way like to

these Western railway settlements. In the first place, the line of the rails runs through the main street of the

town, and forms not unfrequently the only road. At Seymour I could find no way of getting away from the

rails unless I went into the fields. At Crestline, which is a larger place, I did find a street in which there was

no railroad, but it was deserted, and manifestly out of favor with the inhabitants. As there were railway

junctions at both these posts, there were, of course, crossstreets, and the houses extended themselves from

the center thus made along the lines, houses being added to houses at short intervals as newcorners settled

themselves down. The panting, and groaning, and whistling of engines is continual; for at such places freight

trains are always kept waiting for passenger trains, and the slower freight trains for those which are called

fast. This is the life of the town; and indeed as the whole place is dependent on the railway, so is the railway

held in favor and beloved. The noise of the engines is not disliked, nor are its puffings and groanings held to

be unmusical. With us a locomotive steamengine is still, as it were, a beast of prey, against which one has to

be on one's guardin respect to which one specially warns the children. But there, in the Western States, it

has been taken to the bosoms of them all as a domestic animal; no one fears it, and the little children run

about almost among its wheels. It is petted and made much of on all sidesand, as far as I know, it seldom

bites or tears. I have not heard of children being destroyed wholesale in the streets, or of drunken men

becoming frequent sacrifices. But had I been consulted beforehand as to the natural effects of such an

arrangement, I should have said that no child could have been reared in such a town, and that any continuance

Such places, however, do thrive and prosper with a prosperity especially their own, and the boys and girls

increase and multiply in spite of all dangers. With us in England it is difficult to realize the importance which

is attached to a railway in the States, and the results which a railway creates. We have roads everywhere, and

our country had been cultivated throughout with more or less care before our system of railways had been

commenced; but in America, especially in the North, the railways have been the precursors of cultivation.

They have been carried hither and thither, through primeval forests and over prairies, with small hope of

other traffic than that which they themselves would make by their own influences. The people settling on

their edges have had the very best of all roads at their service; but they have had no other roads. The face of

the country between one settlement and another is still in many cases utterly unknown; but there is the

connecting road by which produce is carried away, and newcomers are brought in. The town that is distant a

hundred miles by the rail is so near that its inhabitants are neighbors; but a settlement twenty miles distant

across the uncleared country is unknown, unvisited, and probably unheard of by the women and children.

Under such circumstances the railway is everything. It is the first necessity of life, and gives the only hope of

wealth. It is the backbone of existence from whence spring, and by which are protected, all the vital organs

and functions of the community. It is the right arm of civilization for the people, and the discoverer of the

fertility of the land. It is all in all to those people, and to those regions. It has supplied the wants of frontier

life with all the substantial comfort of the cities, and carried education, progress, and social habits into the

wilderness. To the eye of the stranger such places as Seymour and Crestline are desolate and dreary. There is

nothing of beauty in themgiven either by nature or by art. The railway itself is ugly, and its numerous

sidings and branches form a mass of iron road which is bewildering, and, according to my ideas, in itself

disagreeable. The wooden houses open down upon the line, and have no gardens to relieve them. A foreigner,

when first surveying such a spot, will certainly record within himself a verdict against it; but in doing so he

probably commits the error of judging it by a wrong standard. He should compare it with the new settlements

which men have opened up in spots where no railway has assisted them, and not with old towns in which

wealth has long been congregated. The traveler may see what is the place with the railway; then let him

I confess that I became tired of my sojourn at both the places I have named. At each I think that I saw every

house in the place, although my visit to Seymour was made in the night; and at both I was lamentably at a

loss for something to do. At Crestline I was all alone, and began to feel that the hours which I knew must pass

before the missing train could come would never make away with themselves. There were many others

stationed there as I was, but to them had been given a capability for loafing which niggardly Nature has

denied to me. An American has the power of seating himself in the close vicinity of a hot stove and feeding

in silence on his own thoughts by the hour together. It may be that he will smoke; but after awhile his cigar

will come to an end. He sits on, however, certainly patient, and apparently contented. It may be that he

chews, but if so, he does it with motionless jaws, and so slow a mastication of the pabulum upon which he

feeds, that his employment in this respect only disturbs the absolute quiet of the circle when, at certain long,

distant intervals, he deposits the secretion of his tobacco in an ornamental utensil which may probably be

placed in the farthest corner of the hall. But during all this time he is happy. It does not fret him to sit there

and think and do nothing. He is by no means an idle manprobably one much given to commercial

enterprise. Idle men out there in the West we may say there are none. How should any idle man live in such a

country? All who were sitting hour after hour in that circle round the stove of the Crestline Hotel

hallsitting there hour after hour in silence, as I could not sitwere men who earned their bread by labor.

They were farmers, mechanics, storekeepers; there was a lawyer or two, and one clergyman. Sufficient

conversation took place at first to indicate the professions of many of them. One may conclude that there

could not be place there for an idle man. But they all of them had a capacity for a prolonged state of doing

nothing which is to me unintelligible, and which is by me very much to be envied. They are patient as cows

which from hour to hour lie on the grass chewing their cud. An Englishman, if he be kept waiting by a train

in some forlorn station in which he can find no employment, curses his fate and all that has led to his present

misfortune with an energy which tells the story of his deep and thorough misery. Such, I confess, is my state

of existence under such circumstances. But a Western American gives himself up to "loafing," and is quite

happy. He balances himself on the back legs of an armchair, and remains so, without speaking, drinking or

smoking for an hour at a stretch; and while he is doing so he looks as though he had all that he desired. I

believe that he is happy, and that he has all that he wants for such an occasionan armchair in which to sit,

Such was not the phase of character which I had expected to find among the people of the West. Of all virtues

patience would have been the last which I should have thought of attributing to them. I should have expected

to see them angry when robbed of their time, and irritable under the stress of such grievances as railway

delays; but they are never irritable under such circumstances as I have attempted to describe, nor, indeed, are

they a people prone to irritation under any grievances. Even in political matters they are longenduring, and

do not form themselves into mobs for the expression of hot opinion. We in England thought that masses of

the people would rise in anger if Mr. Lincoln's government should consent to give up Slidell and Mason; but

the people bore it without any rising. The habeas corpus has been suspended, the liberty of the press has been

destroyed for a time, the telegraph wires have been taken up by the government into their own hands, but

nevertheless the people have said nothing. There has been no rising of a mob, and not even an expression of

an adverse opinion. The people require to be allowed to vote periodically, and, having acquired that privilege,

permit other matters to go by the board. In this respect we have, I think, in some degree misunderstood their

character. They have all been taught to reverence the nature of that form of government under which they

live, but they are not specially addicted to hot political fermentation. They have learned to understand that

democratic institutions have given them liberty, and on that subject they entertain a strong conviction which

is universal. But they have not habitually interested themselves deeply in the doings of their legislators or of

their government. On the subject of slavery there have been and are different opinions, held with great

tenacity and maintained occasionally with violence; but on other subjects of daily policy the American people

have not, I think, been eager politicians. Leading men in public life have been much less trammeled by

popular will than among us. Indeed with us the most conspicuous of our statesmen and legislators do not

lead, but are led. In the States the noted politicians of the day have been the leaders, and not unfrequently the

coercers of opinion. Seeing this, I claim for England a broader freedom in political matters than the States

have as yet achieved. In speaking of the American form of government, I will endeavor to explain more

I survived my delay at Seymour, after which I passed again through Cincinnati, and then survived my

subsequent delay at Crestline. As to Cincinnati, I must put on record the result of a country walk which I took

there, or rather on which I was taken by my friend. He professed to know the beauties of the neighborhood

and to be well acquainted with all that was attractive in its vicinity. Cincinnati is built on the Ohio, and is

closely surrounded by picturesque hills which overhang the suburbs of the city. Over these I was taken,

plowing my way through a depth of mud which cannot be understood by any ordinary Englishman. But the

depth of mud was not the only impediment nor the worst which we encountered. As we began to ascend from

the level of the outskirts of the town we were greeted by a rising flavor in the air, which soon grew into a

strong odor, and at last developed itself into a stench that surpassed in offensiveness anything that my nose

had ever hitherto suffered. When we were at the worst we hardly knew whether to descend or to proceed. It

had so increased in virulence that at one time I felt sure that it arose from some matter buried in the ground

beneath my feet. But my friend, who declared himself to be quite at home in Cincinnati matters, and to

understand the details of the great Cincinnati trade, declared against this opinion of mine. Hogs, he said, were

at the bottom of it. It was the odor of hogs going up to the Ohio heavensof hogs in a state of transit from

hoggish nature to clothesbrushes, saddles, sausages, and lard. He spoke with an authority that constrained

belief; but I can never forgive him in that he took me over those hills, knowing all that he professed to know.

Let the visitors to Cincinnati keep themselves within the city, and not wander forth among the mountains. It

is well that the odor of hogs should ascend to heaven and not hang heavy over the streets; but it is not well to

intercept that odor in its ascent. My friend became ill with fever, and had to betake himself to the care of

nursing friends; so that I parted company with him at Cincinnati. I did not tell him that his illness was

deserved as well as natural, but such was my feeling on the matter. I myself happily escaped the evil

I again passed through Pittsburg, and over the Alleghany Mountains by Altoona, and down to

Baltimoreback into civilization, secession, conversation, and gastronomy. I never had secessionist

sympathies and never expressed them. I always believed in the North as a peoplediscrediting, however, to

the utmost the existing Northern government, or, as I should more properly say, the existing Northern

cabinet; but nevertheless, with such feelings and such belief I found myself very happy at Baltimore. Putting

aside Bostonwhich must, I think, be generally preferred by Englishmen to any other city in the StatesI

should choose Baltimore as my residence if I were called upon to live in America. I am not led to this, if I

know myself, solely by the canvasback ducks; and as to the terrapins, I throw them to the winds. The

madeira, which is still kept there with a reverence which I should call superstitious were it not that its free

circulation among outside worshipers prohibits the just use of such a word, may have something to do with it,

as may also the beauty of the womento some small extent. Trifles do bear upon our happiness in a manner

that we do not ourselves understand and of which we are unconscious. But there was an English look about

the streets and houses which I think had as much to do with it as either the wine, the women, or the ducks,

and it seemed to me as though the manners of the people of Maryland were more English than those of other

Americans. I do not say that they were on this account better. My English hat is, I am well aware, less

graceful, and I believe less comfortable, than a Turkish fez and turban; nevertheless I prefer my English hat.

New York I regard as the most thoroughly American of all American cities. It is by no means the one in

which I should find myself the happiest; but I do not on that account condemn it.

I have said that in returning to Baltimore I found myself among secessionists. In so saying I intend to speak

of a certain set whose influence depends perhaps more on their wealth, position, and education than on their

numbers. I do not think that the population of the city was then in favor of secession, even if it had ever been

so. I believe that the mob of Baltimore is probably the roughest mob in the Statesis more akin to a Paris

mob, and I may perhaps also say to a Manchester mob, than that of any other American city. There are more

roughs in Baltimore than elsewhere, and the roughs there are rougher. In those early days of secession, when

the troops were being first hurried down from New England for the protection of Washington, this mob was

vehemently opposed to its progress. Men had been taught to think that the rights of the State of Maryland

were being invaded by the passage of the soldiers, and they also were undoubtedly imbued with a strong

prepossession for the Southern cause. The two ideas had then gone together. But the mob of Baltimore had

ceased to be secessionists within twelve months of their first exploit. In April, 1861, they had refused to

allow Massachusetts soldiers to pass through the town on their way to Washington; and in February, 1862,

they were nailing Union flags on the doorposts of those who refused to display such banners as signs of

That Maryland can ever go with the South, even in the event of the South succeeding in secession, no

Marylander can believe. It is not pretended that there is any struggle now going on with such an object. No

such result has been expected, certainly since the possession of Washington was secured to the North by the

army of the Potomac. By few, I believe, was such a result expected even when Washington was insecure.

And yet the feeling for secession among a certain class in Baltimore is as strong now as ever it was. And it is

equally strong in certain districts of the Statein those districts which are most akin to Virginia in their

habits, modes of thought, and ties of friendship. These men, and these women also, pray for the South if they

be pious, give their money to the South if they be generous, work for the South if they be industrious, fight

for the South if they be young, and talk for the South morning, noon, and night, in spite of General Dix and

his columbiads on Federal Hill. It is in vain to say that such men and women have no strong feeling on the

matter, and that they are praying, working, fighting, and talking under dictation. Their hearts are in it. And

judging from them, even though there were no other evidence from which to judge, I have no doubt that a

similar feeling is strong through all the seceding States. On this subject the North, I think, deceives itself in

supposing that the Southern rebellion has been carried on without any strong feeling on the part of the

Southern people. Whether the mob of Charleston be like the mob of Baltimore I cannot tell; but I have no

doubt as to the gentry of Charleston and the gentry of Baltimore being in accord on the subject.

In what way, then, when the question has been settled by the force of arms, will these classes find themselves

obliged to act? In Virginia and Maryland they comprise, as a rule, the highest and best educated of the

people. As to parts of Kentucky the same thing may be said, and probably as to the whole of Tennessee. It

must be remembered that this is not as though certain aristocratic families in a few English counties should

find themselves divided off from the politics and national aspirations of their countrymen, as was the case

long since with reference to the Roman Catholic adherents of the Stuarts, and as has been the case since then

in a lesser degree with the firmest of the old Tories who had allowed themselves to be deceived by Sir Robert

Peel. In each of these cases the minority of dissentients was so small that the nation suffered nothing, though

individuals were all but robbed of their nationality. but as regards America it must be remembered that each

State has in itself a governing power, and is in fact a separate people. Each has its own legislature, and must

The secessionists of Maryland and of Virginia may consent to live in obscurity; but if this be so, who is to

rule in those States? From whence are to come the senators and the members of Congress; the governors and

attorneygenerals? From whence is to come the national spirit of the two States, and the salt that shall

preserve their political life? I have never believed that these States would succeed in secession. I have always

felt that they would be held within the Union, whatever might be their own wishes. But I think that they will

be so held in a manner and after a fashion that will render any political vitality almost impossible till a new

generation shall have sprung up. In the mean time life goes on pleasantly enough in Baltimore, and ladies

meet together, knitting stockings and sewing shirts for the Southern soldiers, while the gentlemen talk

Southern politics and drink the health of the (Southern) president in ambiguous terms, as our Cavaliers used

During my second visit to Baltimore I went over to Washington for a day or two, and found the capital still

under the empire of King Mud. How the elite of a nationfor the inhabitants of Washington consider

themselves to be the elitecan consent to live in such a state of thraldom, a foreigner cannot understand.

Were I to say that it was intended to be typical of the condition of the government, I might be considered

cynical; but undoubtedly the sloughs of despond which were deepest in their despondency were to be found

in localities which gave an appearance of truth to such a surmise. The Secretary of State's office, in which

Mr. Seward was still reigning, though with diminished glory, was divided from the headquarters of the

commanderinchief, which are immediately opposite to it, by an opaque river which admitted of no transit.

These buildings stand at the corner of President Square, and it had been long understood that any close

intercourse between them had not been considered desirable by the occupants of the military side of the

causeway. But the Secretary of State's office was altogether unapproachable without a long circuit and

begrimed legs. The Secretary of War's department was, if possible, in a worse condition. This is situated on

the other side of the President's house, and the mud lay, if possible, thicker in this quarter than it did round

Mr. Seward's chambers. The passage over Pennsylvania Avenue, immediately in front of the War Office, was

a thing not to be attempted in those days. Mr. Cameron, it is true, had gone, and Mr. Stanton was installed;

but the labor of cleansing the interior of that establishment had hitherto allowed no time for a glance at the

exterior dirt, and Mr. Stanton should, perhaps, be held as excused. That the Navy Office should be buried in

mud, and quite debarred from approach, was to be expected. The space immediately in front of Mr. Lincoln's

own residence was still kept fairly clean, and I am happy to be able to give testimony to this effect. Long may

it remain so. I could not, however, but think that an energetic and careful President would have seen to the

removal of the dirt from his own immediate neighborhood. It was something that his own shoes should

remain unpolluted; but the foul mud always clinging to the boots and leggings of those by whom he was daily

surrounded must, I should think, have been offensive to him. The entrance to the Treasury was difficult to

achieve by those who had not learned by practice the ways of the place; but I must confess that a tolerably

clear passage was maintained on that side which led immediately down to the halls of Congress. Up at the

Capitol the mud was again triumphant in the front of the building; this however was not of great importance,

as the legislative chambers of the States are always reached by the back doors. I, on this occasion, attempted

to leave the building by the grand entrance, but I soon became entangled among rivers of mud and mazes of

shifting sand. With difficulty I recovered my steps, and finding my way back to the building was forced to

content myself by an exit among the crowd of Senators and Representatives who were thronging down the

Of dirt of all kinds it behoves Washington and those concerned in Washington to make themselves free. It is

the Augean stables through which some American Hercules must turn a purifying river before the American

people can justly boast either of their capital or of their government. As to the material mud, enough has been

said. The presence of the army perhaps caused it, and the excessive quantity of rain which had fallen may

also be taken as a fair plea. But what excuse shall we find for that other dirt? It also had been caused by the

presence of the army, and by that longcontinued down pouring of contracts which had fallen like Danae's

golden shower into the laps of those who understood how to avail themselves of such heavenly waters. The

leaders of the rebellion are hated in the North. The names of Jefferson Davis, of Cobb, Toombs, and Floyd

are mentioned with execration by the very children. This has sprung from a true and noble feeling; from a

patriotic love of national greatness and a hatred of those who, for small party purposes, have been willing to

lessen the name of the United States. I have reverenced the feeling even when I have not shared it. But, in

addition to this, the names of those also should be execrated who have robbed their country when pretending

to serve it; who have taken its wages in the days of its great struggle, and at the same time have filched from

its coffers; who have undertaken the task of steering the ship through the storm in order that their hands might

be deep in the mealtub and the breadbasket, and that they might stuff their own sacks with the ship's

provisions. These are the men who must be loathed by the nationwhose fate must be held up as a warning

to others before good can come! Northern men and women talk of hanging Davis and his accomplices. I

myself trust that there will be no hanging when the war is over. I believe there will be none, for the

Americans are not a bloodthirsty people. But if punishment of any kind be meted out, the men of the North

should understand that they have worse offenders among them than Davis and Floyd.

At the period of which I am now speaking, there had come a change over the spirit of Mr. Lincoln's cabinet.

Mr. Seward was still his Secretary of State, but he was, as far as outside observers could judge, no longer his

Prime Minister. In the early days of the war, and up to the departure of Mr. Cameron from out of the cabinet,

Mr. Seward had been the Minister of the nation. In his dispatches he talks ever of We or of I. In every word

of his official writings, of which a large volume has been published, he shows plainly that he intends to be

considered as the man of the dayas the hero who is to bring the States through their difficulties. Mr.

Lincoln may be king, but Mr. Seward is mayor of the palace, and carries the king in his pocket. From the

depth of his own wisdom he undertakes to teach his ministers in all parts of the world, not only their duties,

but their proper aspiration. He is equally kind to foreign statesmen, and sends to them messages as though

from an altitude which no European politician had ever reached. At home he has affected the Prime Minister

in everything, dropping the We and using the I in a manner that has hardly made up by its audacity for its

deficiency in discretion. It is of course known everywhere that he had run Mr. Lincoln very hard for the

position of Republican candidate for the Presidency. Mr. Lincoln beat him, and Mr. Seward is well aware that

in the states a man has never a second chance for the presidential chair. Hence has arisen his ambition to

make for himself a new place in the annals of American politics. Hitherto there has been no Prime Minister

known in the government of the United States. Mr. Seward has attempted a revolution in that matter, and has

essayed to fill the situation. For awhile it almost seemed that he was successful. He interfered with the army,

and his interferences were endured. He took upon himself the business of the police, and arrested men at his

own will and pleasure. The habeas corpus was in his hand, and his name was current through the States as a

covering authority for every outrage on the old laws. Sufficient craft, or perhaps cleverness, he possessed to

organize a position which should give him a power greater than the power of the President; but he had not the

genius which would enable him to hold it. He made foolish prophecies about the war, and talked of the

triumphs which he would win. He wrote statepapers on matters which he did not understand, and gave

himself the airs of diplomatic learning while he showed himself to be sadly ignorant of the very rudiments of

diplomacy. He tried to joke as Lord Palmerston jokes, and nobody liked his joking. He was greedy after the

little appanages of power, taking from others who loved them as well as he did privileges with which he

might have dispensed. And then, lastly, he was successful in nothing. He had given himself out as the

commander of the commanderinchief; but then under his command nothing got itself done. For a month or

two some men had really believed in Mr. Seward. The policemen of the country had come to have an

absolute trust in him, and the underlings of the public offices were beginning to think that he might be a great

man. But then, as is ever the case with such men, there came suddenly a downfall. Mr. Cameron went from

the cabinet, and everybody knew that Mr. Seward would be no longer commander of the

commanderinchief. His prime ministership was gone from him, and he sank down into the comparatively

humble position of Minister for Foreign Affairs. His lettres de cachet no longer ran. His passport system was

repealed. His prisoners were released. And though it is too much to say that writs of habeas corpus were no

longer suspended, the effect and very meaning of the suspension were at once altered. When I first left

Washington, Mr. Seward was the only minister of the cabinet whose name was ever mentioned with

reference to any great political measure. When I returned to Washington, Mr. Stanton was Mr. Lincoln's

leading minister, and, as Secretary of War, had practically the management of the army and of the internal

I have spoken here of Mr. Seward by name, and in my preceding paragraphs I have alluded with some

asperity to the dishonesty of certain men who had obtained political power under Mr. Lincoln, and used it for

their own dishonest purposes. I trust that I may not be understood as bringing any such charges against Mr.

Seward. That such dishonesty has been frightfully prevalent all men know who knew anything of Washington

during the year 1861. In a former chapter I have alluded to this more at length, stating circumstances, and in

some cases giving the names of the persons charged with offenses. Whenever I have done so, I have based

my statements on the Van Wyck report, and the evidence therein given. This is the published report of a

committee appointed by the house of Representatives; and as it has been before the world for some months

without refutation, I think that I have a right to presume it to be true.* On no less authority than this would I

consider myself justified in bringing any such charge. Of Mr. Seward's incompetency I have heard very much

among American politicians; much also of his ambition. With worse offenses than these I have not heard him

* I ought perhaps to state that General Fremont has published an answer to the charges preferred against him.

That answer refers chiefly to matters of military capacity or incapacity, as to which I have expressed no

opinion. General Fremont does allude to the accusations made against him regarding the building of the forts;

but in doing so he seem to me rather to admit than to deny the acts as stated by the committee.

At the period of which I am writing, February, 1862, the long list of military successes which attended the

Northern army through the late winter and early spring had commenced. Fort henry, on the Tennessee River,

had first been taken, and after that, Fort Donelson, on the Cumberland River, also in the State, Tennessee.

Price had been driven out of Missouri into Arkansas by General Curtis, acting under General Halleck's

orders. The chief body of the Confederate army in the West had abandoned the fortified position which they

had long held at Bowling Green, in the southwestern district of Kentucky. Roanoke Island, on the coast of

North Carolina, had been taken by General Burnside's expedition, and a belief had begun to manifest itself in

Washington that the army of the Potomac was really about to advance. It is impossible to explain in what way

the renewed confidence of the Northern party showed itself, or how one learned that the hopes of the

secessionists were waxing dim; but it was so; and even a stranger became aware of the general feeling as

clearly as though it were a defined and established fact. In the early part of the winter, when I reached

Washington, the feeling ran all the other way. Northern men did not say that they were despondent; they did

not with spoken words express diffidence as to their success; but their looks betrayed diffidence, and the

moderation of their selfassurance almost amounted to despondency. In the capital the parties were very

much divided. The old inhabitants were either secessionists or influenced by "secession proclivities," as the

word went; but the men of the government and of the two Houses of Congress were, with a few exceptions,

of course Northern. It should be understood that these parties were at variance with each other on almost

every point as to which men can disagree. In our civil war it may be presumed that all Englishmen were at

any rate anxious for England. They desired and fought for different modes of government; but each party was

equally English in its ambition. In the States there is the hatred of a different nationality added to the rancor

of different politics. The Southerners desire to be a people of themselvesto divide themselves by every

possible mark of division from New England; to be as little akin to New York as they are to London, or, if

possible, less so. Their habits, they say, are different; their education, their beliefs, their propensities, their

very virtues and vices are not the education, or the beliefs, or the propensities, or the virtues and vices of the

North. The bond that ties them to the North is to them a Mezentian marriage, and they hate their Northern

spouses with a Mezentian hatred. They would be anything sooner than citizens of the United States. They see

to what Mexico has come, and the republics of Central America; but the prospect of even that degradation is

less bitter to them than a share in the glory of the stars and stripes. Better, with them, to reign in hell than

serve in heaven! It is not only in politics that they will be beaten, if they be beaten, as one party with us may

be beaten by another; but they will be beaten as we should be beaten if France annexed us, and directed that

we should live under French rule. Let an Englishman digest and realize that idea, and he will comprehend the

feelings of a Southern gentleman as he contemplates the probability that his State will be brought back into

the Union. And the Northern feeling is as strong. The Northern man has founded his national ambition on the

territorial greatness of his nation. He has panted for new lands, and for still extended boundaries. The

Western World has opened her arms to him, and has seemed to welcome him as her only lord. British

America has tempted him toward the north, and Mexico has been as a prey to him on the south. He has made

maps of his empire, including all the continent, and has preached the Monroe doctrine as though it had been

decreed by the gods. He has told the world of his increasing millions, and has never yet known his store to

diminish. He has pawed in the valley, and rejoiced in his strength. He has said among the trumpets, ha! ha!

He has boasted aloud in his pride, and called on all men to look at his glory. And now shall he be divided and

shorn? Shall he be hemmed in from his ocean, and shut off from his rivers? Shall he have a hook run into his

nostrils, and a thorn driven into his jaw? Shall men say that his day is over, when he has hardly yet tasted the

full cup of his success? Has his young life been a dream, and not a truth? Shall he never reach that giant

manhood which the growth of his boyish years has promised him? If the South goes from him, he will be

divided, shorn, and hemmed in. The hook will have pierced his nose, and the thorn will fester in his jaw. Men

will taunt him with his former boastings, and he will awake to find himself but a mortal among mortals.

Such is the light in which the struggle is regarded by the two parties, and such the hopes and feelings which

have been engendered. It may therefore be surmised with what amount of neighborly love secessionists and

Northern neighbors regarded each other in such towns as Baltimore and Washington. Of course there was

hatred of the deepest dye; of course there were muttered curses, or curses which sometimes were not simply

muttered. Of course there was wretchedness, heartburnings, and fearful divisions in families. That, perhaps,

was the worst of all. The daughter's husband would be in the Northern ranks, while the son was fighting in

the South; or two sons would hold equal rank in the two armies, sometimes sending to each other frightful

threats of personal vengeance. Old friends would meet each other in the street, passing without speaking; or,

worse still, would utter words of insult for which payment is to be demanded when a Southern gentleman

And yet society went on. Women still smiled, and men were happy to whom such smiles were given. Cakes

and ale were going, and ginger was still hot in the mouth. When many were together no words of unhappiness

were heard. It was at those small meetings of two or three that women would weep instead of smiling, and

that men would run their hands through their hair and sit in silence, thinking of their ruined hopes and divided

I have spoken of Southern hopes and Northern fears, and have endeavored to explain the feelings of each

party. For myself I think that the Southerners have been wrong in their hopes, and that those of the North

have been wrong in their fears. It is not better to rule in hell than serve in heaven. Of course a Southern

gentleman will not admit the premises which are here by me taken for granted. The hell to which I allude is,

the sad position of a low and debased nation. Such, I think, will be the fate of the Gulf States, if they succeed

in obtaining secessionof a low and debased nation, or, worse still, of many low and debased nations. They

will have lost their cotton monopoly by the competition created during the period of the war, and will have no

material of greatness on which either to found themselves or to flourish. That they had much to bear when

linked with the North, much to endure on account of that slavery from which it was all but impossible that

they should disentangle themselves, may probably be true. But so have all political parties among all free

nations much to bear from political opponents, and yet other free nations do not go to pieces. Had it been

possible that the slaveowners and slave properties should have been scattered in parts through all the States

and not congregated in the South, the slave party would have maintained itself as other parties do; but in such

case, as a matter of course, it would not have thought of secession. It has been the close vicinity of

slaveowners to each other, the fact that their lands have been coterminous, that theirs was especially a cotton

district, which has tempted them to secession. They have been tempted to secession, and will, as I think, still

And the fears of the North are, I think, equally wrong. That they will be deceived as to that Monroe doctrine

is no doubt more than probable. That ambition for an entire continent under one rule will not, I should say, be

gratified. But not on that account need the nation be less great, or its civilization less extensive. That hook in

its nose and that thorn in its jaw will, after all, be but a hook of the imagination and an ideal thorn. Do not all

great men suffer such ere their greatness be established and acknowledged? There is scope enough for all that

manhood can do between the Atlantic and the Pacific, even though those hot, swampy cotton fields be taken

away; even though the snows of the British provinces be denied to them. And as for those rivers and that

seaboard, the Americans of the North will have lost much of their old energy and usual force of will if any

Southern confederacy be allowed to deny their right of way or to stop their commercial enterprises. I believe

that the South will be badly off without the North; but I feel certain that the North will never miss the South

From Washington I journeyed back to Boston through the cities which I had visited in coming thither, and

stayed again on my route, for a few days, at Baltimore, at Philadelphia, and at New York. At each town there

were those whom I now regarded almost as old friends, and as the time of my departure drew near I felt a

sorrow that I was not to be allowed to stay longer. As the general result of my sojourn in the country, I must

declare that I was always happy and comfortable in the Eastern cities, and generally unhappy and

uncomfortable in the West. I had previously been inclined to think that I should like the roughness of the

West, and that in the East I should encounter an arrogance which would have kept me always on the verge of

hot water; but in both these surmises I found myself to have been wrong. And I think that most English

travelers would come to the same conclusion. The Western people do not mean to be harsh or uncivil, but

they do not make themselves pleasant. In all the Eastern citiesI speak of the Eastern cities north of

Washingtona society may be found which must be esteemed as agreeable by Englishmen who like clever,

I was forced to pass twice again over the road between New York and Boston, as the packet by which I

intended to leave America was fixed to sail from the former port. I had promised myself, and had promised

others, that I would spend in Boston the last week of my sojourn in the States, and this was a promise which I

was by no means inclined to break. If there be a gratification in this world which has no alloy, it is that of

going to an assured welcome. The belief that arms and hearts are open to receive oneand the arms and

hearts of women, too, as far as they allow themselves to open themis the salt of the earth, the sole remedy

against sea sickness, the only cure for the tedium of railways, the one preservative amid all the miseries and

fatigue of travail. These matters are private, and should hardly be told of in a book; but in writing of the

States, I should not do justice to my own convictions of the country if I did not say how pleasantly social

intercourse there will ripen into friendship, and how full of love that friendship may become. I became

enamored of Boston at last. Beacon Street was very pleasant to me, and the view over Boston Common was

dear to my eyes. Even the State House, with its great yellow painted dome, became sightly, and the sunset

over the western waters that encompass the city beats all other sunsets that I have seen.

During my last week there the world of Boston was moving itself on sleighs. There was not a wheel to be

seen in the town. The omnibuses and public carriages had been dismounted from their axles and put

themselves upon snowrunners, and the private world had taken out its winter carriages, and wrapped itself

up in buffalo robes. Men now spoke of the coming thaw as of a misfortune which must come, but which a

kind Providence might perhaps postponeas we all, in short, speak of death. In the morning the snow would

have been hardened by the night's frost, and men would look happy and contented. By an hour after noon the

streets would be all wet and the ground would be slushy, and men would look gloomy and speak of speedy

dissolution. There were those who would always prophesy that the next day would see the snow converted

into one dull, dingy river. Such I regarded as seers of tribulation, and endeavored with all my mind to

disbelieve their interpretations of the signs. That sleighing was excellent fun. For myself I must own that I

hardly saw the best of it at Boston, for the coming of the end was already at hand when I arrived there, and

the fresh beauty of the hard snow was gone. Moreover, when I essayed to show my prowess with a pair of

horses on the established course for such equipage, the beasts ran away, knowing that I was not practiced in

the use of snow chariots, and brought me to grief and shame. There was a lady with me in the sleigh, whom,

for awhile, I felt that I was doomed to consign to a snowy gravewhom I would willingly have overturned

into a drift of snow, so as to avoid worse consequences, had I only known how to do so. But Providence, even

though without curbs and assisted only by simple snaffles, did at last prevail, and I brought the sleigh horses,

and lady alive back to Boston, whether with or without permanent injury I have never yet ascertained.

At last the day of tribulation came, and the snow was picked up and carted out of Boston. Gangs of men,

standing shoulder to shoulder, were at work along the chief streets, picking, shoveling, and disposing of the

dirty blocks. Even then the snow seemed to be nearly a foot thick; but it was dirty, rough, half melted in some

places, though hard as stone in others. The labor and cost of cleansing the city in this way must be very great.

The people were at it as I left, and I felt that the day of tribulation had in truth come.

Farewell to thee, thou Western Athens! When I have forgotten thee, my right hand shall have forgotten its

cunning, and my heart forgotten its pulses. Let us look at the list of names with which Boston has honored

itself in our days, and then ask what other town of the same size has done more. Prescott, Bancroft, Motley,

Longfellow, Lowell, Emerson, Dana, Agassiz, Holmes, Hawthorne! Who is there among us in England who

has not been the better for these men? Who does not owe to some of them a debt of gratitude? In whose ears

is not their names familiar? It is a bright galaxy, and far extended, for so small a city. What city has done

better than this? All these men, save one, are now alive and in the full possession of their powers. What other

town of the same size has done as well in the same short space of time? It may be that this is the Augustan era

of Bostonits Elizabethan time. If so, I am thankful that my steps have wandered thither at such a period.

While I was at Boston I had the sad privilege of attending the funeral of President Felton, the head of Harvard

College. A few months before I had seen him a strong man, apparently in perfect health and in the pride of

life. When I reached Boston I heard of his death. He also was an accomplished scholar, and as a Grecian has

left few behind him who were his equals. At his installation as president, four expresidents of Harvard

College assisted. Whether they were all present at his funeral I do not know, but I do know that they were all

still living. These are Mr. Quincy, who is now over ninety; Mr. Sparks; Mr. Everett, the wellknown orator;

and Mr. Walker. They all reside in Boston or its neighborhood, and will probably all assist at the installation

It is, I presume, universally known that the citizens of the Western American colonies of Great Britain which

revolted, declared themselves to be free from British dominion by an act which they called the Declaration of

Independence. This was done on the 4th of July, 1776, and was signed by delegates from the thirteen

colonies, or States as they then called themselves. These delegates in this document declare themselves to be

the representatives of the United States of America in general Congress assembled. The opening and close of

this declaration have in them much that is grand and striking; the greater part of it, however, is given up to

enumerating, in paragraph after paragraph, the sins committed by George III. against the colonies. Poor

George III.! There is no one now to say a good word for him; but of all those who have spoken ill of him, this

In the following year, on the 15th of November, 1777, were drawn up the Articles of Confederation between

the States, by which it was then intended that a sufficient bond and compact should be made for their future

joint existence and preservation. A reference to this document will show how slight was the then intended

bond of union between the States. The second article declares that each State retains its sovereignty, freedom,

and independence. The third article avows that "the said States hereby severally enter into a firm league of

friendship with each other for their common defense, the security of their liberties, and their mutual and

general welfare, binding themselves to assist each other against all force offered to, or attacks made upon,

them, or any of them, on account of religion, sovereignty, trade, or any other pretext whatever." And the third

article, "the better to secure and perpetuate mutual friendship," declares that the free citizens of one State

shall be free citizens of another. From this it is, I think, manifest that no idea of one united nation had at that

time been received and adopted by the citizens of the States. The articles then go on to define the way in

which Congress shall assemble and what shall be its powers. This Congress was to exercise the authority of a

national government rather than perform the work of a national parliament. It was intended to be executive

rather than legislative. It was to consist of delegates, the very number of which within certain limits was to be

left to the option of the individual States, and to this Congress was to be confided certain duties and

privileges, which could not be performed or exercised separately by the governments of the individual States.

One special article, the eleventh, enjoins that "Canada, acceding to the Confederation, and joining in the

measures of the United States, shall be admitted into and entitled to all the advantages of this Union; but no

other colony shall be admitted into the same unless such admission be agreed to by nine States." I mention

this to show how strong was the expectation at that time that Canada also would revolt from England. Up to

this day few Americans can understand why Canada has declined to join her lot to them.

But the compact between the different States made by the Articles of Confederation, and the mode of national

procedure therein enjoined, were found to be inefficient for the wants of a people who to be great must be

united in fact as well as in name. The theory of the most democratic among the Americans of that day was in

favor of selfgovernment carried to an extreme. Selfgovernment was the Utopia which they had determined

to realize, and they were unwilling to diminish the reality of the selfgovernment of the individual States by

any centralization of power in one head, or in one parliament, or in one set of ministers for the nation. For ten

years, from 1777 to 1787, the attempt was made; but then it was found that a stronger bond of nationality was

indispensable, if any national greatness was to be regarded as desirable. Indeed, all manner of failure had

attended the mode of national action ordained by the Articles of Confederation. I am not attempting to write a

history of the United States, and will not therefore trouble my readers with historic details, which are not of

value unless put forward with historic weight. The fact of the failure is however admitted, and the present

written Constitution of the United States, which is the splendid result of that failure, was "Done in

Convention by the unanimous consent of the States present."* Twelve States were presentRhode Island

apparently having had no representative on the occasionon the 17th of September, 1787, and in the twelfth

* It must not, however, be supposed that by this "doing in convention," the Constitution became an accepted

fact. It simply amounted to the adoption of a proposal of the Constitution. The Constitution itself was

formally adopted by the people in conventions held in their separate State capitals. It was agreed to by the

I call the result splendid, seeing that under this Constitution so written a nation has existed for threequarters

of a century, and has grown in numbers, power, and wealth till it has made itself the political equal of the

other greatest nations of the earth. And it cannot be said that it has so grown in spite of the Constitution, or by

ignoring the Constitution. Hitherto the laws there laid down for the national guidance have been found

adequate for the great purpose assigned to them, and have done all that which the framers of them hoped that

they might effect. We all know what has been the fate of the constitutions which were written throughout the

French Revolution for the use of France. We all, here in England, have the same ludicrous conception of

Utopian theories of government framed by philosophical individuals who imagine that they have learned

from books a perfect system of managing nations. To produce such theories is especially the part of a

Frenchman; to disbelieve in them is especially the part of an Englishman. But in the States a system of

government has been produced, under a written constitution, in which no Englishman can disbelieve, and

which every Frenchman must envy. It has done its work. The people have been free, well educated, and

politically great. Those among us who are most inclined at the present moment to declare that the institutions

of the United States have failed, can at any rate only declare that they have failed in their finality; that they

have shown themselves to be insufficient to carry on the nation in its advancing strides through all times.

They cannot deny that an amount of success and prosperity, much greater than the nation even expected for

itself, has been achieved under this Constitution and in connection with it. If it be so, they cannot disbelieve

in it. Let those who now say that it is insufficient, consider what their prophecies regarding it would have

been had they been called on to express their opinions concerning it when it was proposed in 1787. If the

future as it has since come forth had then been foretold for it, would not such a prophecy have been a

prophecy of success? That Constitution is now at the period of its hardest trial, and at this moment one may

hardly dare to speak of it with triumph; but looking at the nation even in its present position, I think I am

justified in saying that its Constitution is one in which no Englishman can disbelieve. When I also say that it

is one which every Frenchman must envy, perhaps I am improperly presuming that Frenchmen could not look

When the Constitution came to be written, a man had arisen in the States who was peculiarly suited for the

work in hand: he was one of those men to whom the world owes much, and of whom the world in general

knows but little. This was Alexander Hamilton, who alone on the part of the great State of New York signed

the Constitution of the United States. The other States sent two, three, four, or more delegates; New York

sent Hamilton alone; but in sending him New York sent more to the Constitution than all the other States

together. I should be hardly saying too much for Hamilton if I were to declare that all those parts of the

Constitution emanated from him in which permanent political strength has abided. And yet his name has not

been spread abroad widely in men's mouths. Of Jefferson, Franklin, and Madison we have all heard; our

children speak of them, and they are household words in the nursery of history. Of Hamilton, however, it

Without going with minuteness into the early contests of democracy in the United States, I think I may say

that there soon arose two parties, each probably equally anxious in the cause of freedom, one of which was

conspicuous for its French predilections and the other for its English aptitudes. It was the period of the French

Revolutionthe time when the French Revolution had in it as yet something of promise and had not utterly

disgraced itself. To many in America the French theory of democracy not unnaturally endeared itself and

foremost among these was Thomas Jefferson. He was the father of those politicians in the States who have

since taken the name of Democrats, and in accordance with whose theory it has come to pass that everything

has been referred to the universal suffrage of the people. James Madison, who succeeded Jefferson as

President, was a pupil in this school, as indeed have been most of the Presidents of the United States. At the

head of the other party, from which through various denominations have sprung those who now call

themselves Republicans, was Alexander Hamilton. I believe I may say that all the political sympathies of

George Washington were with the same school. Washington, however, was rather a man of feeling and of

action than of theoretical policy or speculative opinion. When the Constitution was written Jefferson was in

France, having been sent thither as minister from the United States, and he therefore was debarred from

concerning himself personally in the matter. His views, however, were represented by Madison; and it is now

generally understood that the Constitution as it stands is the joint work of Madison and Hamilton.* The

democratic bias, of which it necessarily contains much, and without which it could not have obtained the

consent of the people, was furnished by Madison; but the conservative elements, of which it possesses much

more than superficial observers of the American form of government are wont to believe, came from

* It should, perhaps, be explained that the views of Madison were originally not opposed to those of

Hamilton. Madison, however, gradually adopted the policy of Jeffersonhis policy rather than his

The very preamble of the Constitution at once declares that the people of the different States do hereby join

themselves together with the view of forming themselves into one nation. "We, the people of the United

States, in order to form a more perfect Union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the

common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our

posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America." Here a great step was

made toward centralization, toward one national government, and the binding together of the States into one

nation. But from that time down to the present the contest has been going on, sometimes openly and

sometimes only within the minds of men, between the still alleged sovereignty of the individual States and

the acknowledged sovereignty of the central Congress and central government. The disciples of Jefferson,

even though they have not known themselves to be his disciples, have been carrying on that fight for State

rights which has ended in secession; and the disciples of Hamilton, certainly not knowing themselves to be

his disciples, have been making that stand for central government, and for the one acknowledged republic,

which is now at work in opposing secession, and which, even though secession should to some extent be

accomplished, will, we may hope, nevertheless, and not the less on account of such secession, conquer and

The political contest of parties which is being waged now, and which has been waged throughout the history

of the United States, has been pursued on one side in support of that idea of an undivided nationality of which

I have spokenof a nationality in which the interests of a part should be esteemed as the interests of the

whole; and on the other side it has been pursued in opposition to that idea. I will not here go into the

interminable question of slaverythough it is on that question that the Southern or democratic States have

most loudly declared their own sovereign rights and their aversion to national interference. Were I to do so I

should fail in my present object of explaining the nature of the Constitution of the United States. But I protest

against any argument which shall be used to show that the Constitution has failed because it has allowed

slavery to produce the present division among the States. I myself think that the Southern or Gulf States will

go. I will not pretend to draw the exact line or to say how many of them are doomed; but I believe that South

Carolina, with Georgia and perhaps five or six others, will be extruded from the Union. But their very

extrusion will be a political success, and will in fact amount to a virtual acknowledgment in the body of the

Union of the truth of that system for which the conservative Republican party has contended. If the North

obtain the power of settling that question of boundary, the abandonment of those Southern States will be a

success, even though the privilege of retaining them be the very point for which the North is now in arms.

The first clause of the Constitution declares that all the legislative powers granted by the Constitution shall be

vested in a Congress, which shall consist of a Senate and of a House of Representatives. The House of

Representatives is to be rechosen every two years, and shall be elected by the people, such persons in each

State having votes for the national Congress as have votes for the legislature of their own States. If, therefore,

South Carolina should chooseas she has chosento declare that the electors of her own legislature shall

possess a property qualification, the electors of members of Congress from South Carolina must also have

that qualification. In Massachusetts universal suffrage now prevails, although it is not long since a low

property qualification prevailed even in Massachusetts. It therefore follows that members of the House of

Representatives in Congress need by no means be all chosen on the same principle. As a fact, universal

suffrage* and vote by ballot, that is by open voting papers, prevail in the States, but they do not so prevail by

virtue of any enactment of the Constitution. The laws of the States, however, require that the voter shall have

been a resident in the State for some period, and generally either deny the right of voting to negroes, or so

* Perhaps the better word would have been manhood suffrage; and even that word should be taken with

certain restrictions. Aliens, minors, convicts, and men who pay no taxes cannot vote. In some States none can

vote unless they can read and write. In some there is a property qualification. In all there are special

restrictions against negroes. There is in none an absolutely universal suffrage. But I keep the name as it best

expresses to us in England the system of franchise which has practically come to prevail in the United States.

The Senate of the United States is composed of two Senators from each State. These Senators are chosen for

six years, and are elected in a manner which shows the conservative tendency of the Constitution with more

signification than perhaps any other rule which it contains. This branch of Congress, which, as I shall

presently endeavor to show, is by far the more influential of the two, is not in any way elected by the people.

"The Senate of the United States shall be composed of two Senators from each State, CHOSEN BY THE

LEGISLATURE THEREOF, for six years, and each senator shall have one voice." The Senate sent to

Congress is therefore elected by the State legislatures. Each State legislature has two Houses and the Senators

sent from that State to Congress are either chosen by vote of the two Houses voting togetherwhich is, I

believe, the mode adopted in most States, or are voted for in the two Houses separatelyin which cases,

when different candidates have been nominated, the two Houses confer by committees and settle the matter

between them. The conservative purpose of the Constitution is here sufficiently evident. The intention has

been to take the election of the Senators away from the people, and to confide it to that body in each State

which may be regarded as containing its best trusted citizens. It removes the Senators far away from the

democratic element, and renders them liable to the necessity of no popular canvass. Nor am I aware that the

Constitution has failed in keeping the ground which it intended to hold in this matter. On some points its

selected rocks and chosen standing ground have slipped from beneath its feet, owing to the weakness of

words in defining and making solid the intended prohibitions against democracy. The wording of the

Constitution has been regarded by the people as sacred; but the people has considered itself justified in

opposing the spirit as long as it revered the letter of the Constitution. And this was natural. For the letter of

the Constitution can be read by all men; but its spirit can be understood comparatively but by few. As regards

the election of the Senators, I believe that it has been fairly made by the legislatures of the different States. I

have not heard it alleged that members of the State legislatures have been frequently constrained by the

outside popular voice to send this or that man as Senator to Washington. It was clearly not the intention of

those who wrote the Constitution that they should be so constrained. But the Senators themselves in

Washington have submitted to restraint. On subjects in which the people are directly interested, they submit

to instructions from the legislatures which have sent them as to the side on which they shall vote, and justify

themselves in voting against their convictions by the fact that they have received such instructions. Such a

practice, even with the members of a House which has been directly returned by popular election, is, I think,

false to the intention of the system. It has clearly been intended that confidence should be put in the chosen

candidate for the term of his duty, and that the electors are to be bound in the expression of their opinion by

his sagacity and patriotism for that term. A member of a representative House so chosen, who votes at the

bidding of his constituency in opposition to his convictions, is manifestly false to his charge, and may be

presumed to be thus false in deference to his own personal interests, and with a view to his own future

standing with his constituents. Pledges before election may be fair, because a pledge given is after all but the

answer to a question asked. A voter may reasonably desire to know a candidate's opinion on any matter of

political interest before he votes for or against him. The representative when returned should be free from the

necessity of further pledges. But if this be true with a House elected by popular suffrage, how much more

than true must it be with a chamber collected together as the Senate of the United States is collected!

Nevertheless, it is the fact that many Senators, especially those who have been sent to the House as

Democrats, do allow the State legislatures to dictate to them their votes, and that they do hold themselves

absolved from the personal responsibility of their votes by such dictation. This is one place in which the rock

which was thought to have been firm has slipped away, and the sands of democracy have made their way

through. But with reference to this it is always in the power of the Senate to recover its own ground, and

reestablish its own dignity; to the people in this matter the words of the Constitution give no authority, and

all that is necessary for the recovery of the old practice is a more conservative tendency throughout the

country generally. That there is such a conservative tendency, no one can doubt; the fear is whether it may

In speaking of these instructions given to Senators at Washington, I should explain that such instructions are

not given by all States, nor are they obeyed by all Senators. Occasionally they are made in the form of

requests, the word "instruct" being purposely laid aside. Requests of the same kind are also made to

Representatives, who, as they are not returned by the State legislatures, are not considered to be subject to

such instructions. The form used is as follows: "we instruct our Senators and request our representatives," etc.

The Senators are elected for six years, but the same Senate does not sit entire throughout that term. The whole

chamber is divided into three equal portions or classes, and a portion goes out at the end of every second

year; so that a third of the Senate comes in afresh with every new House of Representatives. The

VicePresident of the United States, who is elected with the President, and who is not a Senator by election

from any State, is the exofficio President of the Senate. Should the President of the United States vacate his

seat by death or otherwise, the VicePresident becomes President of the United States; and in such case the

In speaking of the Senate, I must point out a matter to which the Constitution does not allude, but which is of

the gravest moment in the political fabric of the nation. Each State sends two Senators to Congress. These

two are sent altogether independently of the population which they represent, or of the number of members

which the same State supplies to the Lower House. When the Constitution was framed, Delaware was to send

one member to the House of Representatives, and Pennsylvania eight; nevertheless, each of these States sent

two Senators. It would seem strange that a young people, commencing business as a nation on a basis

intended to be democratic, should consent to a system so directly at variance with the theory of popular

representation. It reminds one of the old days when Yorkshire returned two members, and Rutlandshire two

also. And the discrepancy has greatly increased as young States have been added to the Union, while the old

States have increased in population. New York, with a population of about 4,000,000, and with thirtythree

members in the House of Representatives, sends two Senators to Congress. The new State of Oregon, with a

population of 50,000 or 60,000, and with one member in the House of Representatives, sends also two

Senators to Congress. But though it would seem that in such a distribution of legislative power the young

nation was determined to preserve some of the old fantastic traditions of the mother country which it had just

repudiated, the fact, I believe, is that this system, apparently so opposed to all democratic tendencies, was

produced and specially insisted upon by democracy itself. Where would be the State sovereignty and

individual existence of Rhode Island and Delaware, unless they could maintain, in at least one House of

Congress, their State equality with that of all other States in the Union? In those early days, when the

Constitution was being framed, there was nothing to force the small States into a union with those whose

populations preponderated. Each State was sovereign in its municipal system, having preserved the

boundaries of the old colony, together with the liberties and laws given to it under its old colonial charter. A

union might be and no doubt was desirable; but it was to be a union of sovereign States, each retaining equal

privileges in that union, and not a fusion of the different populations into one homogeneous whole. No State

was willing to abandon its own individuality, and least of all were the small States willing to do so. It was,

therefore, ordained that the House of Representatives should represent the people, and that the Senate should

From that day to the present time the arrangement of which I am speaking has enabled the Democratic or

Southern party to contend at a great advantage with the Republicans of the North. When the Constitution was

founded, the seven Northern StatesI call those Northern which are now freesoil States, and those

Southern in which the institution of slavery now prevailswere held to be entitled by their population to

send thirtyfive members to the House of Representatives, and they sent fourteen members to the Senate. The

six Southern States were entitled to thirty members in the Lower House, and to twelve Senators. Thus the

proportion was about equal for the North and South. But nowor rather in 1860, when secession

commencedthe Northern States, owing to the increase of population in the North, sent one hundred and

fifty Representatives to Congress, having nineteen States, and thirtyeight Senators; whereas the South, with

fifteen States and thirty Senators, was entitled by its population to only ninety Representatives, although by a

special rule in its favor, which I will presently explain, it was in fact allowed a greater number of

Representatives, in proportion to its population, than the North. Had an equal balance been preserved, the

South, with its ninety Representatives in the Lower House, would have but twentythree Senators, instead of

thirty, in the Upper.* But these numbers indicate to us the recovery of political influence in the North, rather

than the pride of the power of the South; for the South, in its palmy days, had much more in its favor than I

have above described as its position in 1860. Kansas had then just become a freesoil State, after a terrible

struggle, and shortly previous to that Oregon and Minnesota, also free States, had been added to the Union.

Up to that date the slave States sent thirty Senators to Congress, and the free States only thirtytwo. In

addition to this, when Texas was annexed and converted into a State, a clause was inserted into the act giving

authority for the future subdivision of that State into four different States as its population should increase,

thereby enabling the South to add Senators to its own party from time to time, as the Northern States might

* It is worthy of note that the new Northern and Western States have been brought into the Union by natural

increase and the spread of population. But this has not been so with the new Southern States. Louisiana and

And here I must explain, in order that the nature of the contest may be understood, that the Senators from the

South maintained themselves ever in a compact body, voting together, true to each other, disciplined as a

party, understanding the necessity of yielding in small things in order that their general line of policy might

be maintained. But there was no such system, no such observance of political tactics among the Senators of

the North. Indeed, they appear to have had no general line of politics, having been divided among themselves

on various matters. Many had strong Southern tendencies, and many more were willing to obtain official

power by the help of Southern votes. There was no bond of union among them, as slavery was among the

Senators from the South. And thus, from these causes, the power of the Senate and the power of the

I am aware that in going into these matters here I am departing somewhat from the subject of which this

chapter is intended to treat; but I do not know that I could explain in any shorter way the manner in which

those rules of the Constitution have worked by which the composition of the Senate is fixed. That State basis,

as opposed to a basis of population in the Upper House of Congress, has been the one great political weapon,

both of offense and defense, in the hands of the Democratic party. And yet I am not prepared to deny that

great wisdom was shown in the framing of the constitution of the Senate. It was the object of none of the

politicians then at work to create a code of rules for the entire governance of a single nation such as is

England or France. Nor, had any American politician of the time so desired, would he have had reasonable

hope of success. A federal union of separate sovereign States was the necessity, as it was also the desire, of

all those who were concerned in the American policy of the day; and I think it way be understood and

maintained that no such federal union would have been just, or could have been accepted by the smaller

States, which did not in some direct way recognize their equality with the larger States. It is moreover to be

observed, that in this, as in all matters, the claims of the minority were treated with indulgence. No ordinance

of the Constitution is made in a niggardly spirit. It would seem as though they who met together to do the

work had been actuated by no desire for selfish preponderance or individual influence. No ambition to bind

close by words which shall be exacting as well as exact is apparent. A very broad power of interpretation is

It is declared that "representation and direct taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may

be included within this Union, according to their respective numbers," thereby meaning that representation

and taxation in the several States shall be adjusted according to the population. This clause ordains that

throughout all the States a certain amount of population shall return a member to the Lower House of

Congresssay one member to 100,000 persons, as is I believe about the present proportionand that direct

taxation shall be levied according to the number of representatives. If New York return thirtythree members

and Kansas one, on New York shall be levied, for the purposes of the United States revenue, thirtythree

times as much direct taxation as on Kansas. This matter of direct taxation was not then, nor has it been since,

matter of much moment. No direct taxation has hitherto been levied in the United States for national

purposes. But the time has now come when this proviso will be a terrible stumbling block in the way.

But before we go into that matter of taxation, I must explain how the South was again favored with reference

to its representation. As a matter of course no slaves, or even negroesno men of color were to vote in

the Southern States. Therefore, one would say, that in counting up the people with reference to the number of

the representatives, the colored population should be ignored altogether. But it was claimed on behalf of the

South that their property in slaves should be represented, and in compliance with this claim, although no

slave can vote or in any way demand the services of a representative, the colored people are reckoned among

the population. When the numbers of the free persons are counted, to this number is added "threefifths of all

other persons." Five slaves are thus supposed to represent three white persons. From the wording, one would

be led to suppose that there was some other category into which a man might be put besides that of free or

slave! But it may be observed, that on this subject of slavery the framers of the Constitution were

tendermouthed. They never speak of slavery or of a slave. It is necessary that the subject should be

mentioned, and therefore we hear first of persons other than free, and then of persons bound to labor!

Such were the rules laid down for the formation of Congress, and the letter of those rules has, I think, been

strictly observed. I have not thought it necessary to give all the clauses, but I believe I have stated those

which are essential to a general understanding of the basis upon which Congress is founded.

The Constitution ordains that members of both the Houses shall be paid for their time, but it does not decree

the amount. "The Senators and Representatives shall receive a compensation for their services, to be

ascertained by law, and paid out of the treasury of the United States." In the remarks which I have made as to

the present Congress I have spoken of the amount now allowed. The understanding, I believe, is that the pay

shall be enough for the modest support of a man who is supposed to have raised himself above the heads of

the crowd. Much may be said in favor of this payment of legislators, but very much may also be said against

it. There was a time when our members of the House of Commons were entitled to payment for their services,

and when, at any rate, some of them took the money. It may be that with a new nation such an arrangement

was absolutely necessary. Men whom the people could trust, and who would have been able to give up their

time without payment, would not have probably been found in a new community. The choice of Senators and

of Representatives would have been so limited that the legislative power would have fallen into the hands of

a few rich men. Indeed, it may be said that such payment was absolutely necessary in the early days of the

life of the Union. But no one, I think, will deny that the tone of both Houses would be raised by the gratuitous

service of the legislators. It is well known that politicians find their way into the Senate and into the chamber

of Representatives solely with a view to the loaves and fishes. The very word "politician" is foul and

unsavory throughout the States, and means rather a political blackleg than a political patriot. It is useless to

blink this matter in speaking of the politics and policy of the United States. The corruption of the venal

politicians of the nation stinks aloud in the nostrils of all men. It behoves the country to look to this. It is time

now that she should do so. The people of the nation are educated and clever. The women are bright and

beautiful. Her charity is profuse; her philanthropy is eager and true; her national ambition is noble and

honesthonest in the cause of civilization. But she has soiled herself with political corruption, and has

disgraced the cause of republican government by the dirt of those whom she has placed in her high places.

Let her look to it now. She is nobly ambitious of reputation throughout the earth; she desires to be called

good as well as great; to be regarded not only as powerful, but also as beneficent. She is creating an army; she

is forging cannon, and preparing to build impregnable ships of war. But all these will fail to satisfy her pride,

unless she can cleanse herself from that corruption by which her political democracy has debased itself. A

politician should be a man worthy of all honor, in that he loves his country; and not one worthy of all

I must not be understood as saying that every Senator and Representative who takes his pay is wrong in

taking it. Indeed, I have already expressed an opinion that such payments were at first necessary, and I by no

means now say that the necessity has as yet disappeared. In the minds of thorough democrats it will be

considered much that the poorest man of the people should be enabled to go into the legislature, if such

poorest man be worthy of that honor. I am not a thorough democrat, and consider that more would be gained

by obtaining in the legislature that education, demeanor, and freedom from political temptation which easy

circumstances produce. I am not, however, on this account inclined to quarrel with the democratsnot on

that account if they can so manage their affairs that their poor and popular politicians shall be fairly honest

men. But I am a thorough republican, regarding our own English form of government as the most purely

republican that I know, and as such I have a close and warm sympathy with those Transatlantic

antimonarchical republicans who are endeavoring to prove to the world that they have at length founded a

political Utopia. I for one do not grudge them all the good they can do, all the honor they can win. But I

grieve over the evil name which now taints them, and which has accompanied that wider spread of

democracy which the last twenty years has produced. This longing for universal suffrage in all thingsin

voting for the President, in voting for judges, in voting for the Representatives, in dictating to Senatorshas

come up since the days of President Jackson, and with it has come corruption and unclean hands. Democracy

One would say that at any rate the Senate might be filled with unpaid servants of the public. Each State might

surely find two men who could afford to attend to the public weal of their country without claiming a

compensation for their time. In England we find no difficulty in being so served. Those cities among us in

which the democratic element most strongly abounds, can procure representatives to their minds, even though

the honor of filling the position is not only not remunerative, but is very costly. I cannot but think that the

Senate of the United States would stand higher in the public estimation of its own country if it were an unpaid

It is enjoined that no person holding any office under the United States shall be a member of either House

during his continuance in office. At first sight such a rule as this appears to be good in its nature; but a

comparison of the practice of the United States government with that of our own makes me think that this

embargo on members of the legislative bodies is a mistake. It prohibits the President's ministers from a seat in

either house, and thereby relieves them from the weight of that responsibility to which our ministers are

subjected. It is quite true that the United States ministers cannot be responsible as are our ministers, seeing

that the President himself is responsible, and that the Queen is not so. Indeed, according to the theory of the

American Constitution, the President has no ministers. The Constitution speaks only of the principal officers

of the executive departments. "He" (the President) "may require the opinion in writing of the principal officer

in each of the executive departments." But in practice he has his cabinet, and the irresponsibility of that

cabinet would practically cease if the members of it were subjected to the questionings of the two Houses.

With us the rule which prohibits servants of the State from going into Parliament is, like many of our

constitutional rules, hard to be defined, and yet perfectly understood. It may perhaps be said, with the nearest

approach to a correct definition, that permanent servants of the State may not go into Parliament, and that

those may do so whose services are political, depending for the duration of their term on the duration of the

existing ministry. But even this would not be exact, seeing that the Master of the Rolls and the officers of the

army and navy can sit in Parliament. The absence of the President's ministers from Congress certainly

occasions much confusion, or rather prohibits a more thorough political understanding between the executive

and the legislature than now exists. In speaking of the government of the United States in the next chapter, I

* It will be alleged by Americans that the introduction into Congress of the President's ministers would alter

all the existing relations of the President and of Congress, and would at once produce that parliamentary form

of government which England possesses, and which the States have chosen to avoid. Such a change would

elevate Congress and depress the President. No doubt this is true. Such elevation, however, and such

The duties of the House of Representatives are solely legislative. Those of the Senate are legislative and

executive, as with us those of the Upper House are legislative and judicial. The House of Representatives is

always open to the public. The Senate is so open when it is engaged on legislative work; but it is closed to the

public when engaged in executive session. No treaties can be made by the President, and no appointments to

high offices confirmed, without the consent of the Senate; and this consent must be given as regards the

confirmation of treatiesby twothirds of the members present. This law gives to the Senate the power of

debating with closed doors upon the nature of all treaties, and upon the conduct of the government as evinced

in the nomination of the officers of State. It also gives to the Senate a considerable control over the foreign

relations of the government. I believe that this power is often used, and that by it the influence of the Senate

is raised much above that of the Lower House. This influence is increased again by the advantage of that

superior statecraft and political knowledge which the six years of the Senator gives him over the two years of

the Representative. The tried Representative, moreover, very frequently blossoms into a Senator but a Senator

does not frequently fade into a Representative. Such occasionally is the case, and it is not even

unconstitutional for an exPresident to reappear in either House. Mr. Benton, after thirty years' service in the

Senate, sat in the House of Representatives. Mr. Crittenden, who was returned as Senator by Kentucky, I

think seven times, now sits in the Lower House; and John Quincy Adams appeared as a Representative from

And, moreover, the Senate of the United States is not debarred from an interference with money bills, as the

House of Lords is debarred with us. "All bills for raising revenue," says the seventh section of the first article

of the Constitution, "shall originate with the House of Representatives, but the Senate may propose or concur

with amendments as on other bills." By this the Senate is enabled to have an authority in the money matters

of the nation almost equal to that held by the Lower Housean authority quite sufficient to preserve to it the

full influence of its other powers. With us the House of Commons is altogether in the ascendant, because it

Congress can levy custom duties in the United States, and always has done so; hitherto the national revenue

has been exclusively raised from custom duties. It cannot levy duties on exports. It can levy excise duties, and

is now doing so; hitherto it has not done so. It can levy direct taxes, such as an income tax and a property tax;

it hitherto has not done so, but now must do so. It must do so, I think I am justified in saying; but its power of

doing this is so hampered by constitutional enactment, that it would seem that the Constitution as regards this

heading must be altered before any scheme can be arranged by which a moderately just income tax can be

levied and collected. This difficulty I have already mentioned, but perhaps it will be well that I should

endeavor to make the subject more plain. It is specially declared: "That all duties, imposts, and excises shall

be uniform throughout the united States." And again: "That no capitation or other direct tax shall be laid,

unless in proportion to the census or enumeration hereinbefore directed to be taken." And again, in the words

before quoted: "Representatives and direct taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which shall be

included in this Union, according to their respective numbers." By these repeated rules it has been intended to

decree that the separate States shall bear direct taxation according to their population and the consequent

number of their Representatives; and this intention has been made so clear that no direct taxation can be

levied in opposition to it without an evident breach of the Constitution. To explain the way in which this will

work, I will name the two States of Rhode Island and Iowa as opposed to each other, and the two States of

Massachusetts and Indiana as opposed to each other. Rhode Island and Massachusetts are wealthy Atlantic

States, containing, as regards enterprise and commercial success, the cream of the population of the United

States. Comparing them in the ratio of population, I believe that they are richer than any other States. They

return between them thirteen Representatives, Rhode Island sending two and Massachusetts eleven. Iowa and

Indiana also send thirteen Representatives, Iowa sending two, and being thus equal to Rhode Island; Indiana

sending eleven, and being thus equal to Massachusetts. Iowa and Indiana are Western States; and though I am

not prepared to say that they are the poorest States of the Union, I can assert that they are exactly opposite in

their circumstances to Rhode Island and Massachusetts. The two Atlantic States of New England are old

established, rich, and commercial. The two Western States I have named are full of new immigrants, are

comparatively poor, and are agricultural. Nevertheless any direct taxation levied on those in the East and on

those in the West must be equal in its weight. Iowa must pay as much as Rhode Island; Indiana must pay as

much as Massachusetts. But Rhode Island and Massachusetts could pay, without the sacrifice of any comfort

to its people, without any sensible suffering, an amount of direct taxation which would crush the States of

Iowa and Indianawhich indeed no tax gatherer could collect out of those States. Rhode Island and

Massachusetts could with their ready money buy Iowa and Indiana; and yet the income tax to be collected

from the poor States is to be the same in amount as that collected from the rich States. Within each individual

State the total amount of income tax or of other direct taxation to be levied from that State may be

apportioned as the State may think fit; but an income tax of two per cent. on Rhode Island would probably

produce more than an income tax of ten per cent. in Iowa; whereas Rhode Island could pay an income tax of

It would in fact appear that the Constitution as at present framed is fatal to all direct taxation. Any law for the

collection of direct taxation levied under the Constitution would produce internecine quarrel between the

Western States and those which border on the Atlantic. The Western States would not submit to the taxation.

The difficulty which one here feels is that which always attends an attempt at finality in political

arrangements. One would be inclined to say at once that the law should be altered, and that as the money

required is for the purposes of the Union and for State purposes, such a change should be made as would

enable Congress to levy an income tax on the general income of the nation. But Congress cannot go beyond

It is true that the Constitution is not final, and that it contains an express article ordaining the manner in

which it may be amended. And perhaps I may as well explain here the manner in which this can be done,

although by doing so I am departing from the order in which the Constitution is written. It is not final, and

amendments have been made to it. But the making of such amendments is an operation so ponderous and

troublesome that the difficulty attached to any such change envelops the Constitution with many of the

troubles of finality. With us there is nothing beyond an act of Parliament. An act of Parliament with us cannot

be unconstitutional. But no such power has been confided to Congress, or to Congress and the President

together. No amendment of the Constitution can be made without the sanction of the State legislatures.

Congress may propose any amendments, as to the expediency of which twothirds of both Houses shall be

agreed; but before such amendments can be accepted they must be ratified by the legislatures of threefourths

of the States, or by conventions in threefourths of the States, "as the one or the other mode of ratification

may be proposed by Congress." Or Congress, instead of proposing the amendments, may, on an application

from the legislatures of twothirds of the different States, call a convention for the proposing of them. In

which latter case the ratification by the different States must be made after the same fashion as that required

in the former case. I do not know that I have succeeded in making clearly intelligible the circumstances under

which the Constitution can be amended; but I think I may have succeeded in explaining that those

circumstances are difficult and tedious. In a matter of taxation why should States agree to an alteration

proposed with the very object of increasing their proportion of the national burden? But unless such States

will agreeunless Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and New York will consent to put their own necks into the

yokedirect taxation cannot be levied on them in a manner available for national purposes. I do believe that

Rhode Island and Massachusetts at present possess a patriotism sufficient for such an act. But the mode of

doing the work will create disagreement, or at any rate, tedious delay and difficulty. How shall the

Constitution be constitutionally amended while onethird of the States are in revolt?

In the eighth section of its first article the Constitution gives a list of the duties which Congress shall

performof things, in short, which it shall do or shall have power to do: To raise taxes; to regulate

commerce and the naturalization of citizens; to coin money, and protect it when coined; to establish postal

communication; to make laws for defense of patents and copyrights; to constitute national courts of law

inferior to the Supreme Court; to punish piracies; to declare war; to raise, pay for, and govern armies, navies,

and militia; and to exercise exclusive legislation in a certain district which shall contain the seat of

government of the United States, and which is therefore to be regarded as belonging to the nation at large,

and not to any particular State. This district is now called the District of Columbia. It is situated on the

Then the ninth section of the same article declares what Congress shall not do. Certain immigration shall not

be prohibited; THE PRIVILEGE OF THE WRIT OF HABEAS CORPUS SHALL NOT BE SUSPENDED,

except under certain circumstances; no ex post facto law shall be passed; no direct tax shall be laid unless in

proportion to the census; no tax shall be laid on exports; no money shall be drawn from the treasury but by

The above are lists or catalogues of the powers which Congress has, and of the powers which Congress has

notof what Congress may do, and of what Congress may not do; and having given them thus seriatim, I

may here perhaps be best enabled to say a few words as to the suspension of the privilege of the writ of

habeas corpus in the United States. It is generally known that this privilege has been suspended during the

existence of the present rebellion very many times; that this has been done by the Executive, and not by

Congress; and that it is maintained by the Executive and by those who defend the conduct of the now acting

Executive of the United States that the power of suspending the writ has been given by the Constitution to the

President and not to Congress. I confess that I cannot understand how any man familiar either with the

wording or with the spirit of the Constitution should hold such an argument. To me it appears manifest that

the Executive, in suspending the privilege of the writ without the authority of Congress, has committed a

breach of the Constitution. Were the case one referring to our British Constitution, a plain man, knowing little

of parliamentary usage and nothing of law lore, would probably feel some hesitation in expressing any

decided opinion on such a subject, seeing that our constitution is unwritten. But the intention has been that

every citizen of the United States should know and understand the rules under which he is to live, and that he

As this matter has been argued by Mr. Horace Binney, a lawyer of Philadelphiamuch trusted, of very great

and of deserved eminence throughout the Statesin a pamphlet in which he defends the suspension of the

privilege of the writ by the President, I will take the position of the question as summed up by him in his last

page, and compare it with that clause in the Constitution by which the suspension of the privilege under

certain circumstances is decreed; and to enable me to do this I will, in the first place, quote the words of the

"The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended unless when, in case of rebellion or

invasion, the public safety may require it." It is the second clause of that section which states what Congress

Mr. Binney argues as follows: "The conclusion of the whole matter is thisthat the Constitution itself is the

law of the privilege and of the exception to it; that the exception is expressed in the Constitution, and that the

Constitution gives effect to the act of suspension when the conditions occur; that the conditions consist of

two matters of factone a naked matter of fact; and the other a matteroffact conclusion from facts: that is

to say, rebellion and the public danger, or the requirement of public safety." By these words Mr. Binney

intends to imply that the Constitution itself gave the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus, and itself

prescribes the taking away of that privilege under certain circumstances. But this is not so. The Constitution

does not prescribe the suspension of the privilege of the writ under any circumstances. It says that it shall not

be suspended except under certain circumstances. Mr. Binney's argument, if I understand it, then goes on as

follows: As the Constitution prescribes the circumstances under which the privilege of the writ shall be

suspendedthe one circumstance being the naked matter of fact rebellion, and the other circumstance the

public safety supposed to have been endangered by such rebellion, which Mr. Binney calls a matteroffact

conclusion from factsthe Constitution must be presumed itself to suspend the privilege of the writ.

Whether the President or Congress be the agent of the Constitution in this suspension, is not matter of

moment. Either can only be an agent; and as Congress cannot act executively, whereas the President must

ultimately be charged with the executive administration of the order for that suspension, which has in fact

been issued by the Constitution itself, therefore the power of exercising the suspension of the writ may

properly be presumed to be in the hands of the President and not to be in the hands of Congress.

If I follow Mr. Binney's argument, it amounts to so much. But it seems to me that Mr. Binney is wrong in his

premises and wrong in his conclusion. The article of the Constitution in question does not define the

conditions under which the privilege of the writ shall be suspended. It simply states that this privilege shall

never be suspended except under certain conditions. It shall not be suspended unless when the public safety

may require such suspension on account of rebellion or invasion. Rebellion or invasion is not necessarily to

produce such suspension. There is, indeed, no naked matter of fact to guide either President or Congress in

the matter; and therefore I say that Mr. Binney is wrong in his premises. Rebellion or invasion might occur

twenty times over, and might even endanger the public safety, without justifying the suspension of the

privilege of the writ under the Constitution. I say also that Mr. Binney is wrong in his conclusion. The public

safety must require the suspension before the suspension can be justified; and such requirement must be a

matter for judgment and for the exercise of discretion. Whether or no there shall be any suspension is a matter

for deliberationnot one simply for executive action, as though it were already ordered. There is no

matteroffact conclusion from facts. Should invasion or rebellion occur, and should the public safety, in

consequence of such rebellion or invasion, require the suspension of the privilege of the writ, then, and only

then, may the privilege be suspended. But to whom is the power, or rather the duty, of exercising this

discretion delegated? Mr. Binney says that "there is no express delegation of the power in the Constitution?" I

maintain that Mr. Binney is again wrong, and that the Constitution does expressly delegate the power, not to

the President, but to Congress. This is done so clearly, to my mind, that I cannot understand the

misunderstanding which has existed in the States upon the subject. The first article of the Constitution treats

"of the legislature." The second article treats "of the executive?" The third treats "of the judiciary." After that

there are certain "miscellaneous articles" so called. The eighth section of the first article gives, as I have said

before, a list of things which the legislature or Congress shall do. The ninth section gives a list of things

which the legislature or Congress shall not do. The second item in this list is the prohibition of any

suspension of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus, except under certain circumstances. This prohibition

is therefore expressly placed upon Congress, and this prohibition contains the only authority under which the

privilege can be constitutionally suspended. Then comes the article on the executive, which defines the

powers that the President shall exercise. In that article there is no word referring to the suspension of the

I say, therefore, that Mr. Lincoln's government has committed a breach of the Constitution in taking upon

itself to suspend the privilege; a breach against the letter of the Constitution. It has assumed a power which

the Constitution has not given itwhich, indeed, the Constitution, by placing it in the hands of another body,

has manifestly declined to put into the hands of the Executive; and it has also committed a breach against the

spirit of the Constitution. The chief purport of the Constitution is to guard the liberties of the people, and to

confide to a deliberative body the consideration of all circumstances by which those liberties may be affected.

The President shall command the army; but Congress shall raise and support the army. Congress shall declare

war. Congress shall coin money. Congress, by one of its bodies, shall sanction treaties. Congress shall

establish such law courts as are not established by the Constitution. Under no circumstances is the President

to decree what shall be done. But he is to do those things which the Constitution has decreed or which

Congress shall decree. It is monstrous to suppose that power over the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus

would, among such a people, and under such a Constitution, be given without limit to the chief officer, the

only condition being that there should be some rebellion. Such rebellion might be in Utah Territory; or some

trouble in the uttermost bounds of Texas would suffice. Any invasion, such as an inroad by the savages of

Old Mexico upon New Mexico, would justify an arbitrary President in robbing all the people of all the States

of their liberties! A squabble on the borders of Canada would put such a power into the hands of the President

for four years; or the presence of an English frigate in the St. Juan channel might be held to do so. I say that

And the effect of this breach of the Constitution at the present day has been very disastrous. It has taught

those who have not been close observers of the American struggle to believe that, after all, the Americans are

indifferent as to their liberties. Such pranks have been played before high heaven by men utterly unfitted for

the use of great power, as have scared all the nations. Mr. Lincoln, the President by whom this

unconstitutional act has been done, apparently delegated his assumed authority to his minister, Mr. Seward.

Mr. Seward has reveled in the privilege of unrestrained arrests, and has locked men up with reason and

without. He has instituted passports and surveillance; and placed himself at the head of an omnipresent police

system with all the gusto of a Fouche, though luckily without a Fouche's craft or cunning. The time will

probably come when Mr. Seward must pay for thisnot with his life or liberty, but with his reputation and

political name. But in the mean time his lettres de cachet have run everywhere through the States. The pranks

which he played were absurd, and the arrests which he made were grievous. After awhile, when it became

manifest that Mr. Seward had not found a way to success, when it was seen that he had inaugurated no great

mode of putting down rebellion, he apparently lost his power in the cabinet. The arrests ceased, the passports

were discontinued, and the prison doors were gradually opened. Mr. Seward was deposed, not from the

cabinet, but from the premiership of the cabinet. The suspension of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus

was not countermanded, but the operation of the suspension was allowed to become less and less onerous;

and now, in April, 1862, within a year of the commencement of the suspension, it has, I think, nearly died

out. The object in hand now is rather that of getting rid of political prisoners than of taking others.

This assumption by the government of an unconstitutional power has, as I have said, taught many lookers on

to think that the Americans are indifferent to their liberties. I myself do not believe that such a conclusion

would be just. During the present crisis the strong feeling of the peoplethat feeling which for the moment

has been dominanthas been one in favor of the government as against rebellion. There has been a

passionate resolution to support the nationality of the nation. Men have felt that they must make individual

sacrifices, and that such sacrifices must include a temporary suspension of some of their constitutional rights.

But I think that this temporary suspension is already regarded with jealous eyes; with an increasing jealousy

which will have created a reaction against such policy as that which Mr. Seward has attemped, long before

the close of Mr. Lincoln's Presidency. I know that it is wrong in a writer to commit himself to prophecies, but

I find it impossible to write upon this subject without doing so. As I must express a surmise on this subject, I

venture to prophesy that the Americans of the States will soon show that they are not indifferent to the

suspension of the privilege of the writ of habeas corpus. On that matter of the illegality of the suspension by

The second article of the Constitution treats of the executive, and is very short. It places the whole executive

power in the hands of the President, and explains with more detail the mode in which the President shall be

chosen than the manner after which the duties shall be performed. The first section states that the executive

shall be vested in a President, who shall hold his office for four years. With him shall be chosen a

VicePresident. I may here explain that the VicePresident, as such, has no power either political or

administrative. He is, exofficio, the Speaker of the Senate; and should the President die, or be by other cause

rendered unable to act as President, the VicePresident becomes President either for the remainder of the

presidential term or for the period of the President's temporary absence. Twice, since the Constitution was

written, the President has died and the VicePresident has taken his place. No President has vacated his

Then come the rules under which the President and VicePresident shall be electedwith reference to which

there has been an amendment of the Constitution subsequent to the fourth Presidential election. This was

found to be necessary by the circumstances of the contest between John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and

Aaron Burr. It was then found that the complications in the method of election created by the original clause

I will not describe in detail the present mode of election, as the doing so would be tedious and unnecessary.

Two facts I wish, however, to make specially noticeable and clear. The first is, that the President of the

United States is now chosen by universal suffrage; and the second is, that the Constitution expressly intended

that the President should not be chosen by universal suffrage, but by a body of men who should enjoy the

confidence and fairly represent the will of the people. The framers of the Constitution intended so to write the

words that the people themselves should have no more immediate concern in the nomination of the President

than in that of the Senate. They intended to provide that the election should be made in a manner which may

be described as thoroughly conservative. Those words, however, have been inefficient for their purpose. They

have not been violated. But the spirit has been violated, while the words have been held sacred; and the

presidential elections are now conducted on the widest principles of universal suffrage. They are essentially

The arrangement, as written in the Constitution, is that each State shall appoint a body of electors equal in

number to the Senators and Representatives sent by that State to Congress, and that thus a body or college of

electors shall be formed equal in number to the two joint Houses of Congress, by which the President shall be

elected. No member of Congress, however, can be appointed an elector. Thus New York, with thirtythree

Representatives in the Lower House, would name thirtyfive electors; and Rhode Island, with two members

in the Lower House, would name four electorsin each case two being added for the two Senators.

It may, perhaps, be doubted whether this theory of an election by electors has ever been truly carried out. It

was probably the case even at the election of the first Presidents after Washington, that the electors were

pledged in some informal way as to the candidate for whom they should vote; but the very idea of an election

by electors has been abandoned since the Presidency of General Jackson. According to the theory of the

Constitution, the privilege and the duty of selecting a best man as President was to be delegated to certain

best men chosen for that purpose. This was the intention of those who framed the Constitution. It may, as I

have said, be doubted whether this theory has ever availed for action; but since the days of Jackson it has

been absolutely abandoned. The intention was sufficiently conservative. The electors to whom was to be

confided this great trust, were to be chosen in their own States as each State might think fit. The use of

universal suffrage for this purpose was neither enjoined nor forbidden in the separate States was neither

treated as desirable or undesirable by the Constitution. Each State was left to judge how it would elect its own

electors. But the President himself was to be chosen by those electors and not by the people at large. The

The electors are still chosen by the different States in conformity with the bidding of the Constitution. The

Constitution is exactly followed in all its biddings, as far as the wording of it is concerned; but the whole

spirit of the document has been evaded in the favor of democracy, and universal suffrage in the presidential

elections has been adopted. The electors are still chosen, it is true; but they are only chosen as the

mouthpiece of the people's choice, and not as the mind by which that choice shall be made. We have all

heard of Americans voting for a ticketfor the Democratic ticket, or the Republican ticket. All political

voting in the States is now managed by tickets. As regards these presidential elections, each party decides on

a candidate. Even this primary decision is a matter of voting among the party itself. When Mr. Lincoln was

nominated as its candidate by the republican party, the names of no less than thirteen candidates were

submitted to the delegates who were sent to a convention at Chicago, assembled for the purpose of fixing

upon a candidate. At that convention Mr. Lincoln was chosen as the Republican candidate and in that

convention was in fact fought the battle which was won in Mr. Lincoln's favor, although that convention was

what we may call a private arrangement, wholly irrespective of any constitutional enactment. Mr. Lincoln

was then proclaimed as the Republican candidate, and all Republicans were held as bound to support him.

When the time came for the constitutional election of the electors, certain names were got together in each

State as representing the Republican interest. These names formed the Republican ticket, and any man voting

for them voted in fact for Lincoln. There were three other parties, each represented by a candidate, and each

had its own ticket in the different States. It is not to be supposed that the supporters of Mr. Lincoln were very

anxious about their ticket in Alabama, or those of Mr. Breckinridge as to theirs in Massachusetts. In

Alabama, a Democratic slave ticket would, of course, prevail. In Massachusetts, a Republican freesoil ticket

would do so. But it may, I think, be seen that in this way the electors have in reality ceased to have any

weight in the electionshave in very truth ceased to have the exercise of any will whatever. They are mere

names, and no more. Stat nominis umbra. The election of the President is made by universal suffrage, and not

by a college of electors. The words as they are written are still obeyed; but the Constitution in fact has been

The President must have been born a citizen of the United States. This is not necessary for the holder of any

other office or for a Senator or Representative; he must be thirtyfour years old at the time of his election.

His executive power is almost unbounded. He is much more powerful than any minister can be with us, and is

subject to a much lighter responsibility. He may be impeached by the House of Representatives before the

Senate, but that impeachment only goes to the removal from office and permanent disqualification for office.

But in these days, as we all practically understand, responsibility does not mean the fear of any great

punishment, but the necessity of accounting from day to day for public actions. A leading statesman has but

slight dread of the axe, but is in hourly fear of his opponent's questions. The President of the United States is

subject to no such questionings, and as he does not even require a majority in either House for the

maintenance of his authority, his responsibility sets upon him very slightly. Seeing that Mr. Buchanan has

escaped any punishment for maladministration, no President need fear the anger of the people.

The President is commanderinchief of the army and of the navy. He can grant pardonsas regards all

offenses committed against the United States. He has no power to pardon an offense committed against the

laws of any State, and as to which the culprit has been tried before the tribunals of that State. He can make

treaties; but such treaties are not valid till they have been confirmed by two thirds of the Senators present in

executive session. He appoints all ambassadors and other public officersbut subject to the confirmation of

the Senate. He can convene either or both Houses of Congress at irregular times, and under certain

circumstances can adjourn them, his executive power is, in fact, almost unlimited; and this power is solely in

his own hands, as the Constitution knows nothing of the President's ministers. According to the Constitution

these officers are merely the heads of his bureaus. An Englishman, however, in considering the executive

power of the President, and in making any comparison between that and the executive power of any officer or

officers attached to the Crown in England, should always bear in mind that the President's power, and even

authority, is confined to the Federal government, and that he has none with reference to the individual States,

religion, education, the administration of the general laws which concern every man and woman, and the real

de facto government which comes home to every house,these things are not in any way subject to the

His legislative power is also great. He has a veto upon all acts of Congress, This veto is by no means a dead

letter, as is the veto of the Crown with us; but it is not absolute. The President, if he refuses his sanction to a

bill sent up to him from Congress, returns it to that House in which it originated, with his objections in

writing. If, after that, such bill shall again pass through both the Senate and the House of Representatives,

receiving in each House the approvals of twothirds of those present, then such bill becomes law without the

President's sanction. Unless this be done, the President's veto stops the bill. This veto has been frequently

The third article of the Constitution treats of the judiciary of the United States; but as I purpose to write a

chapter devoted to the law courts and lawyers of the States, I need not here describe at length the enactments

of the Constitution on this head. It is ordained that all criminal trials, except in cases of impeachment, shall be

There are after this certain miscellaneous articles, some of which belong to the Constitution as it stood at

first, and others of which have been since added as amendments. A citizen of one State is to be a citizen of

every State. Criminals from one State shall not be free from pursuit in other States. Then comes a very

material enactment: "No person held to service or labor in one State, under the laws thereof, escaping into

another, shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service or labor; but

shall be delivered up on claim of the party to whom such service or labor may be due." In speaking of a

person held to labor the Constitution intends to speak of a slave, and the article amounts to a fugitive slave

law. If a slave run away out of South Carolina and find his way into Massachusetts, Massachusetts shall

deliver him up when called upon to do so by South Carolina. The words certainly are clear enough. But

Massachusetts strongly objects to the delivery of such men when so desired. Such men she has delivered up,

with many groanings and much inward perturbation of spirit. But it is understood, not in Massachusetts only,

but in the freesoil States generally, that fugitive slaves shall not be delivered up by the ordinary action of the

laws. There is a feeling strong as that which we entertain with reference to the rendition of slaves from

Canada. With such a clause in the Constitution as that, it is hardly too much to say that no freesoil Slate will

consent to constitutional action. Were it expunged from the Constitution, no slave State would consent to live

under it. It is a point as to which the advocates of slavery and the enemies of slavery cannot be brought to act

New States may be admitted by Congress, but the bounds of no old State shall be altered without the consent

of such State. Congress shall have power to rule and dispose of the Territories and property of the United

States. The United States guarantee every State a republican form of government; but the Constitution does

not define that form of government. An ordinary citizen of the United States, if asked, would probably say

that it included that description of franchise which I have called universal suffrage. Such, however, was not

the meaning of those who framed the Constitution. The ordinary citizen would probably also say that it

excluded the use of a king, though he would, I imagine, be able to give no good reason for saying so. I take a

republican government to be that in which the care of the people is in the hands of the people. They may use

an elected president, a hereditary king, or a chief magistrate called by any other name. But the magistrate,

whatever be his name, must be the servant of the people and not their lord. He must act for them and at their

biddingnot they at his. If he do so, he is the chief officer of a republicas is our Queen with us.

The United States Constitution also guarantees to each State protection against invasion, and, if necessary,

against domestic violencemeaning, I presume, internal violence. The words domestic violence might seem

to refer solely to slave insurrections; but such is not the meaning of the words. The free State of New York

would be entitled to the assistance of the Federal government in putting down internal violence, if unable to

This Constitution, and the laws of the United States made in pursuance of it, are to be held as the supreme

law of the land. The judges of every State are to be bound thereby, let the laws or separate constitution of

such State say what they will to the contrary. Senators and others are to be bound by oath to support the

Constitution; but no religious test shall be required as a qualification to any office.

In the amendments to the Constitution, it is enacted that Congress shall make no law as to the establishment

of any religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; and also that it shall not abridge the freedom of

speech, or of the press, or of petition. The government, however, as is well known, has taken upon itself to

abridge the freedom of the press. The right of the people to bear arms shall not be infringed. Then follow

various clauses intended for the security of the people in reference to the administration of the laws. They

shall not be troubled by unreasonable searches. They shall not be made to answer for great offenses except by

indictment of a grand jury. They shall not be put twice in jeopardy for the same offense. They shall not be

compelled to give evidence against themselves. Private property shall not be taken for public use without

compensation. Accused persons in criminal proceedings shall be entitled to speedy and public trial. They

shall be confronted with the witnesses against them, and shall have assistance of counsel. Suits in which the

value controverted is above twenty dollars (4l.) shall be tried before juries. Excessive bail shall not be

required, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted. In all which enactments we see, I think, a close

The remaining amendments apply to the mode in which the President and VicePresident shall be elected,

The Constitution is signed by Washington as Presidentas President and Deputy from Virginia. It is signed

by deputies from all the other States, except Rhode Island. Among the signatures is that of Alexander

Hamilton, from New York; of Franklin, heading a crowd in Pennsylvania, in the capital of which State the

convention was held; and that of James Madison, the future President, from Virginia.

In the beginning of this chapter I have spoken of the splendid results attained by those who drew up the

Constitution; and then, as though in opposition to the praise thus given to their work, I have insisted

throughout the chapter both on the insufficiency of the Constitution and on the breaches to which it has been

subjected. I have declared my opinion that it is inefficient for some of its required purposes, and have said

that, whether inefficient or efficient, it has been broken and in some degree abandoned. I maintain, however,

that in this I have not contradicted myself. A boy, who declares his purpose of learning the AEneid by heart,

will be held as being successful if at the end of the given period he can repeat eleven books out of the twelve.

Nevertheless the reporter, in summing up the achievement, is bound to declare that that other book has not

been learned. Under this Constitution of which I have been speaking, the American people have achieved

much material success and great political power. As a people they have been happy and prosperous. Their

freedom has been secured to them, and for a period of seventyfive years they have lived and prospered

without subjection to any form of tyranny. This in itself is much, and should, I think, be held as a preparation

for greater things to follow. Such, I think, should be our opinion, although the nation is at the present

burdened by so heavy a load of troubles. That any written constitution should serve its purposes and maintain

its authority in a nation for a dozen years is in itself much for its framers. Where are now the constitutions

which were written for France? But this Constitution has so wound itself into the affections of the people, has

become a mark for such reverence and love, has, after a trial of threequarters of a century, so recommended

itself to the judgment of men, that the difficulty consists in touching it, not in keeping it. Eighteen or twenty

millions of people who have lived under it,in what way do they regard it? Is not that the best evidence that

can be had respecting it? Is it to them an old woman's story, a useless parchment, a thing of old words at

which all must now smile? Heaven mend them, if they reverence it more, as I fear they do, than they

reverence their Bible. For them, after seventyfive years of trial, it has almost the weight of inspiration. In

this respect, with reference to this worship of the work of their forefathers, they may be in error. But that very

error goes far to prove the excellence of the code. When a man has walked for six months over stony ways in

the same boots, he will be believed when he says that his boots are good boots. No assertion to the contrary

from any bystander will receive credence, even though it be shown that a stitch or two has come undone,

and that some required purpose has not effectually been carried out. The boots have carried the man over his

stony roads for six months, and they must be good boots. And so I say that the Constitution must be a good

As to that positive breach of the Constitution which has, as I maintain, been committed by the present

government, although I have been at some trouble to prove it, I must own that I do not think very much of it.

It is to be lamented; but the evil admits, I think, of easy repair. It has happened at a period of unwonted

difficulty, when the minds of men were intent rather on the support of that nationality which guarantees their

liberties, than on the enjoyment of those liberties themselves, and the fault may be pardoned if it be

acknowledged. But it is essential that it should be acknowledged. In such a matter as that there should at any

rate be no doubt. Now, in this very year of the rebellion, it may be well that no clamor against government

should arise from the people, and thus add to the difficulties of the nation. But it will be bad, indeed, for the

nation if such a fault shall have been committed by this government and shall be allowed to pass

unacknowledged, unrebukedas though it were a virtue and no fault. I cannot but think that the time will

soon come in which Mr. Seward's reading of the Constitution and Mr. Lincoln's assumption of illegal power

under that reading will receive a different construction in the States than that put upon it by Mr. Binney.

But I have admitted that the Constitution itself is not perfect. It seems to me that it requires to be amended on

two separate points especially on two; and I cannot but acknowledge that there would be great difficulty in

making such amendments. That matter of direct taxation is the first. As to that I shall speak again in referring

to the financial position of the country. I think, however, that it must be admitted, in any discussion held on

the Constitution of the United States, that the theory of taxation as there laid down will not suffice for the

wants of a great nation. If the States are to maintain their ground as a great national power, they must agree

among themselves to bear the cost of such greatness. While a custom duty was sufficient for the public wants

of the United States, this fault in the Constitution was not felt. But now that standing armies have been

inaugurated, that ironclad ships are held as desirable, that a great national debt has been founded, custom

duties will suffice no longer, nor will excise duties suffice. Direct taxation must be levied, and such taxation

cannot be fairly levied without a change in the Constitution. But such a change may be made in direct

accordance with the spirit of the Constitution, and the necessity for such an alteration cannot be held as

proving any inefficiency in the original document for the purposes originally required.

As regards the other point which seems to me to require amendment, I must acknowledge that I am about to

express simply my own opinion. Should Americans read what I write, they may probably say that I am

recommending them to adopt the blunders made by the English in their practice of government. Englishmen,

on the other hand, may not improbably conceive that a system which works well here under a monarchy,

would absolutely fail under a presidency of four years' duration. Nevertheless I will venture to suggest that

the government of the United States would be improved in all respects if the gentlemen forming the

President's cabinet were admitted to seats in Congress. At present they are virtually irresponsible. They are

constitutionally little more than head clerks. This was all very well while the government of the United States

was as yet a small thing; but now it is no longer a small thing. The President himself cannot do all, nor can he

be in truth responsible for all. A cabinet, such as is our cabinet, is necessary to him. Such a cabinet does exist,

and the members of it take upon themselves the honors which are given to our cabinet ministers. But they are

exempted from all that parliamentary contact which, in fact, gives to our cabinet ministers their adroitness,

their responsibility, and their position in the country. On this subject also I must say another word or two

But how am I to excuse the Constitution on those points as to which it has, as I have said, fallen through, in

respect to which it has shown itself to be inefficient by the weakness of its own words? Seeing that all the

executive power is intrusted to the President, it is especially necessary that the choice of the President should

be guarded by constitutional enactments; that the President should be chosen in such a manner as may seem

best to the concentrated wisdom of the country. The President is placed in his seat for four years. For that

term he is irremovable. He acts without any majority in either of the legislative houses. He must state reasons

for his conduct, but he is not responsible for those reasons. His own judgment is his sole guide. No desire of

the people can turn him out; nor need he fear any clamor from the press. If an officer so high in power be

needed, at any rate the choice of such an officer should be made with the greatest care. The Constitution has

decreed how such care should be exercised, but the Constitution has not been able to maintain its own decree.

The constituted electors of the President have become a mere name; and that officer is chosen by popular

election, in opposition to the intention of those who framed the Constitution. The effect of this may be seen in

the characters of the men so chosen. Washington, Jefferson, Madison, the two Adamses, and Jackson were

the owners of names that have become known in history. They were men who have left their marks behind

them. Those in Europe who have read of anything, have read of them. Americans, whether as Republicans

they admire Washington and the Adamses, or as Democrats hold by Jefferson, Madison, and Jackson, do not

at any rate blush for their old Presidents. But who has heard of Polk, of Pierce, of Buchanan? What American

is proud of them? In the old days the name of a future President might be surmised. He would probably be a

man honored in the nation; but who now can make a guess as to the next President? In one respect a guess

may be made with some safety. The next President will be a man whose name has as yet offended no one by

its prominence. But one requisite is essential for a President; he must be a man whom none as yet have

This has come of universal suffrage; and seeing that it has come in spite of the Constitution, and not by the

Constitution, it is very bad. Nor in saying this am I speaking my own conviction so much as that of all

educated Americans with whom I have discussed the subject. At the present moment universal suffrage is not

popular. Those who are the highest among the people certainly do not love it. I doubt whether the masses of

the people have ever craved it. It has been introduced into the presidential elections by men called politicians;

by men who have made it a matter of trade to dabble in State affairs, and who have gradually learned to see

how the constitutional law, with reference to the presidential electors, could be set aside without any positive

* On this matter one of the best, and bestinformed Americans that I have known, told me that he differed

from me. "It introduced itself," said he. "It was the result of social and political forces. Election of the

President by popular choice became a necessity." The meaning of this is, that in regard to their presidential

elections the United States drifted into universal suffrage. I do not know that his theory is one more

Whether or no any backward step can now be takenwhether these elections can again be put into the hands

of men fit to exercise a choice in such a mattermay well be doubted. Facilis descensus Averni. But the

recovery of the downward steps is very difficult. On that subject, however, I hardly venture here to give an

opinion. I only declare what has been done, and express my belief that it has not been done in conformity

with the wishes of the people, as it certainly has not been done in conformity with the intention of the

In another matter a departure has been made from the conservative spirit of the Constitution. This departure is

equally grave with the other, but it is one which certainly does admit of correction. I allude to the present

position assumed by many of the Senators, and to the instructions given to them by the State legislatures as to

the votes which they shall give in the Senate. An obedience on their part to such instructions is equal in its

effects to the introduction of universal suffrage into the elections. It makes them hang upon the people,

divests them of their personal responsibility, takes away all those advantages given to them by a six years'

certain tenure of office, and annuls the safety secured by a conservative method of election. Here again I must

declare my opinion that this democratic practice has crept into the Senate without any expressed wish of the

people. In all such matters the people of the nation has been strangely undemonstrative. It has been done as

part of a system which has been used for transferring the political power of the nation to a body of trading

politicians who have become known and felt as a mass, and not known and felt as individuals. I find it

difficult to describe the present political position of the States in this respect. The millions of the people are

eager for the Constitution, are proud of their power as a nation, and are ambitious of national greatness. But

they are not, as I think, especially desirous of retaining political influences in their own hands. At many of the

elections it is difficult to induce them to vote. They have among them a halfknowledge that politics is a

trade in the hands of the lawyers, and that they are the capital by which those political tradesmen carry on

their business. These politicians are all lawyers. Politics and law go together as naturally as the possession of

land and the exercise of magisterial powers do with us. It may be well that it should be so, as the lawyers are

the besteducated men of the country, and need not necessarily be the most dishonest. Political power has

come into their hands, and it is for their purposes and by their influences that the spread of democracy has

As regards the Senate, the recovery of its old dignity and former position is within its own power. No

amendment of the Constitution is needed here, nor has the weakness come from any insufficiency of the

Constitution. The Senate can assume to itself tomorrow its own glories, and can, by doing so, become the

saviour of the honor and glory of the nation. It is to the Senate that we must look for that conservative

element which may protect the United States from the violence of demagogues on one side, and from the

despotism of military power on the other. The Senate, and the Senate only, can keep the President in check.

The Senate also has a power over the Lower House with reference to the disposal of money, which deprives

the House of Representatives of that exclusive authority which belongs to our House of Commons. It is not

simply that the House of Representatives cannot do what is done by the House of Commons. There is more

than this. To the Senate, in the minds of all Americans, belongs that superior prestige, that acknowledged

possession of the greater power and fuller scope for action, which is with us as clearly the possession of the

House of Commons. The United States Senate can be conservative, and can be so by virtue of the

Constitution. The love of the Constitution in the hearts of all Americans is so strong that the exercise of such

power by the Senate would strengthen rather than endanger its position. I could wish that the Senators would

abandon their money payments, but I do not imagine that that will be done exactly in these days.

I have now endeavored to describe the strength of the Constitution of the United States, and to explain its

weakness. The great question is at this moment being solved, whether or no that Constitution will still be

found equal to its requirements. It has hitherto been the mainspring in the government of the people. They

have trusted with almost childlike confidence to the wisdom of their founders, and have said to their

rulers"There! in those words you must find the extent and the limit of your powers. It is written down for

you, so that he who runs may read." That writing down, as it were, at a single sitting, of a sufficient code of

instructions for the governors of a great nation, had not hitherto in the world's history been found to answer.

In this instance it has, at any rate, answered better than in any other, probably because the words so written

contained in them less pretense of finality in political wisdom than other written constitutions have assumed.

A young tree must bend, or the winds will certainly break it. For myself I can honestly express my hope that

In speaking of the American Constitution I have said so much of the American form of government that but

little more is left to me to say under that heading. Nevertheless, I should hardly go through the work which I

have laid out for myself if I did not endeavor to explain more continuously, and perhaps more graphically,

than I found myself able to do in the last chapter, the system on which public affairs are managed in the

And here I must beg my readers again to bear in mind how moderate is the amount of governing which has

fallen to the lot of the government of the United States; how moderate, as compared with the amount which

has to be done by the Queen's officers of state for Great Britain, or by the Emperor, with such assistance as he

may please to accept from his officers of state, for France. That this is so must be attributed to more than one

cause; but the chief cause is undoubtedly to be found in the very nature of a federal government. The States

are individually sovereign, and govern themselves as to all internal matters. All the judges in England are

appointed by the Crown; but in the United States only a small proportion of the judges are nominated by the

President. The greater number are servants of the different States. The execution of the ordinary laws for the

protection of men and property does not fall on the government of the United States, but on the executives of

the individual Statesunless in some special matters, which will be defined in the next chapter. Trade,

education, roads, religion, the passing of new measures for the internal or domestic comfort of the

people,all these things are more or less matters of care to our government. In the States they are matters of

care to the governments of each individual State, but are not so to the central government at Washington.

But there are other causes which operate in the same direction, and which have hitherto enabled the

Presidents of the United States, with their ministers, to maintain their positions without much knowledge of

statecraft, or the necessity for that education in state matters which is so essential to our public men. In the

first place, the United States have hitherto kept their hands out of foreign politics. If they have not done so

altogether, they have so greatly abstained from meddling in them that none of that thorough knowledge of the

affairs of other nations has been necessary to them which is so essential with us, and which seems to be

regarded as the one thing needed in the cabinets of other European nations. This has been a great blessing to

the United States, but it has not been an unmixed blessing. It has been a blessing because the absence of such

care has saved the country from trouble and from expense. But such a state of things was too good to last; and

the blessing has not been unmixed, seeing that now, when that absence of concern in foreign matters has been

no longer possible, the knowledge necessary for taking a dignified part in foreign discussions has been found

wanting. Mr. Seward is now the Minister for Foreign Affairs in the States, and it is hardly too much to say

that he has made himself a laughingstock among the diplomatists of Europe, by the mixture of his ignorance

and his arrogance. His reports to his own ministers during the single year of his office, as published by

himself apparently with great satisfaction, are a monument not so much of his incapacity as of his want of

training for such work. We all know his long statepapers on the "Trent" affair. What are we to think of a

statesman who acknowledges the action of his country's servant to have been wrong, and in the same breath

declares that he would have held by that wrong, had the material welfare of his country been thereby

improved? The United States have now created a great army and a great debt. They will soon also have

created a great navy. Affairs of other nations will press upon them, and they will press against the affairs of

other nations. In this way statecraft will become necessary to them; and by degrees their ministers will

become habile, graceful, adroit, and perhaps crafty, as are the ministers of other nations.

And, moreover, the United States have had no outlying colonies or dependencies, such as an India and

Canada are to us, as Cuba is and Mexico was to Spain, and as were the provinces of the Roman empire.

Territories she has had, but by the peculiar beneficence of her political arrangements, these Territories have

assumed the guise of sovereign States, and been admitted into federal partnership on equal terms, with a

rapidity which has hardly left to the central government the reality of any dominion of its own. We are

inclined to suppose that these new States have been allowed to assume their equal privileges and State rights

because they have been contiguous to the old States, as though it were merely an extension of frontier. But

this has not been so. California and Oregon have been very much farther from Washington than the Canadas

are from London. Indeed they are still farther, and I hardly know whether they can be brought much nearer

than Canada is to us, even with the assistance of railways. But nevertheless California and Oregon were

admitted as States, the former as quickly and the latter much more quickly than its population would seem to

justify Congress in doing, according to the received ratio of population. A preference in this way has been

always given by the United States to a young population over one that was older. Oregon with its 60,000

inhabitants has one Representative. New York with 4,000,000 inhabitants has thirty three. But in order to be

equal with Oregon, New York should have sixtysix. In this way the outlying populations have been

encouraged to take upon themselves their own governance, and the governing power of the President and his

But not the less is the position of the President very dominant in the eyes of us Englishmen by reason of the

authority with which he is endowed. It is not that the scope of his power is great, but that he is so nearly

irresponsible in the exercise of that power. We know that he can be impeached by the Representatives and

expelled from his office by the verdict of the Senate; but this in fact does not amount to much. Responsibility

of this nature is doubtless very necessary, and prevents ebullitions of tyranny such as those in which a sultan

or an emperor may indulge; but it is not that responsibility which especially recommends itself to the minds

of free men. So much of responsibility they take as a matter of course, as they do the air which they breathe.

It would be nothing to us to know that Lord Palmerston could be impeached for robbing the treasury, or Lord

Russell punished for selling us to Austria. It is well that such laws should exist, but we do not in the least

suspect those noble lords of such treachery. We are anxious to know, not in what way they may be impeached

and beheaded for great crimes, but by what method they may be kept constantly straight in small matters.

That they are true and honest is a matter of course. But they must be obedient also, discreet, capable, and,

above all things, of one mind with the public. Let them be that; or if not they, then with as little delay as may

be, some others in their place. That with us is the meaning of ministerial responsibility. To that responsibility

all the cabinet is subject. But in the government of the United States there is no such responsibility. The

President is placed at the head of the executive for four years, and while he there remains no man can

question him. It is not that the scope of his power is great. Our own Prime Minister is doubtless more

powerfulhas a wider authority. But it is that within the scope of his power the President is free from all

check. There are no reins, constitutional or unconstitutional, by which he can be restrained. He can absolutely

repudiate a majority of both Houses, and refuse the passage of any act of Congress even though supported by

those majorities. He can retain the services of ministers distasteful to the whole country. He can place his

own myrmidons at the head of the army and navy, or can himself take the command immediately on his own

It is hardly necessary that I should point out the fundamental difference between our king or queen, and the

President of the United States. Our sovereign, we all know, is not responsible. Such is the nature of our

constitution. But there is not on that account any analogy between the irresponsibility of the Queen and that

of the President. The Queen can do no wrong; but therefore, in all matters of policy and governance, she must

be ruled by advice. For that advice her ministers are responsible; and no act of policy or governance can be

done in England as to which responsibility does not immediately settle on the shoulders appointed to bear it.

But this is not so in the States. The President is nominally responsible. But from that everyday working

I will give an instance of this. Now, at this very moment of my writing, news has reached us that President

Lincoln has relieved General McClellan from the command of the whole army, that he has given separate

commands to two other generalsto General Halleck, namely, and, alas! to General Fremont, and that he has

altogether altered the whole organization of the military command as it previously existed. This he did not

only during war, but with reference to a special battle, for the special fighting of which he, as exofficio

commanderinchief of the forces, had given orders. I do not hereby intend to criticise this act of the

President's, or to point out that that has been done which had better have been left undone. The President, in a

strategetical point of view, may have been, very probably has been, quite right. I, at any rate, cannot say that

he has been wrong. But then neither can anybody else say so with any power of making himself heard. Of

this action of the President's, so terribly great in its importance to the nation, no one has the power of

expressing any opinion to which the President is bound to listen. For four years he has this sway, and at the

end of four years he becomes so powerless that it is not then worth the while of any demagogue in a

fourthrate town to occupy his voice with that President's name. The anger of the country as to the things

done both by Pierce and Buchanan is very bitter. But who wastes a thought upon either of these men? A past

President in the United States is of less consideration than a past mayor in an English borough. Whatever evil

he may have done during his office, when out of office he is not worth the powder which would be expended

But the President has his ministers as our Queen has hers. In one sense he has such ministers. He has high

State servants who under him take the control of the various departments, and exercise among them a certain

degree of patronage and executive power. But they are the President's ministers, and not the ministers of the

people. Till lately there has been no chief minister among them, nor am I prepared to say that there is any

such chief at present. According to the existing theory of the government these gentlemen have simply been

the confidential servants of the commonwealth under the President, and have been attached each to his own

department without concerted political alliance among themselves, without any acknowledged chief below

the President, and without any combined responsibility even to the President. If one minister was in fault

let us say the PostmasterGeneralhe alone was in fault, and it did not fall to the lot of any other minister

either to defend him, or to declare that his conduct was indefensible. Each owed his duty and his defense to

the President alone and each might be removed alone, without explanation given by the President to the

others. I imagine that the late practice of the President's cabinet has in some degree departed from this theory;

but if so, the departure has sprung from individual ambition rather than from any preconcerted plan. Some

one place in the cabinet has seemed to give to some one man an opportunity of making himself preeminent,

and of this opportunity advantage has been taken. I am not now intending to allude to any individual, but am

endeavoring to indicate the way in which a ministerial cabinet, after the fashion of our British cabinet, is

struggling to get itself righted. No doubt the position of Foreign Secretary has for some time past been

considered as the most influential under the President. This has been so much the case that many have not

hesitated to call the Secretary of State the chief minister. At the present moment, May, l862, the gentleman

who is at the head of the War Department has, I think, in his own hands greater power than any of his

It will probably come to pass before long that one special minister will be the avowed leader of the cabinet,

and that he will be recognized as the chief servant of the States under the President. Our own cabinet, which

nowadays seems with us to be an institution as fixed as Parliament and as necessary as the throne, has

grown by degrees into its present shape, and is not in truth nearly so old as many of us suppose it to be. It

shaped itself, I imagine, into its present form, and even into its present joint responsibility, during the reign of

George III. It must be remembered that even with us there is no such thing as a constitutional Prime Minister,

and that our Prime Minister is not placed above the other ministers in any manner that is palpable to the

senses. He is paid no more than the others; he has no superior title; he does not take the highest rank among

them; he never talks of his subordinates, but always of his colleagues; he has a title of his own, that of First

Lord of the Treasury, but it implies no headship in the cabinet. That he is the head of all political power in the

nation, the Atlas who has to bear the globe, the god in whose hands rest the thunderbolts and the showers, all

men do know. No man's position is more assured to him. But the bounds of that position are written in no

book, are defined by no law, have settled themselves not in accordance with the recorded wisdom of any

great men, but as expediency and the fitness of political things in Great Britain have seemed from time to

time to require. This drifting of great matters into their proper places is not as closely in accordance with the

idiosyncrasies of the American people as it is with our own. They would prefer to define by words, as the

French do, what shall be the exact position of every public servant connected with their government; or rather

of every public servant with whom the people shall be held as having any concern. But nevertheless, I think it

will come to pass that a cabinet will gradually form itself at Washington as it has done at London, and that of

But a Prime Minister in the United States can never take the place there which is taken here by our Premier.

Over our Premier there is no one politically superior. The highest political responsibility of the nation rests on

him. In the States this must always rest on the President, and any minister, whatever may be his name or

assumed position, can only be responsible through the President. And it is here especially that the working of

the United States system of government seems to me deficientappears as though it wanted something to

make it perfect and round at all points. Our ministers retire from their offices as do the Presidents; and indeed

the ministerial term of office with us, though of course not fixed, is in truth much shorter than the presidential

term of four years. But our ministers do not in fact ever go out. At one time they take one position, with pay,

patronage, and power; and at another time another position, without these good things; but in either position

they are acting as public men, and are in truth responsible for what they say and do. But the President, on

whom it is presumed that the whole of the responsibility of the United States government rests, goes out at a

certain day, and of him no more is heard. There is no future before him to urge him on to constancy; no hope

of other things beyond, of greater honors and a wider fame, to keep him wakeful in his country's cause. He

has already enrolled his name on the list of his country's rulers, and received what reward his country can

give him. Conscience, duty, patriotism may make him true to his place. True to his place, in a certain degree,

they will make him. But ambition and hope of things still to come are the moving motives of the minds of

most men. Few men can allow their energies to expand to their fullest extent in the cold atmosphere of duty

alone. The President of the States must feel that he has reached the top of the ladder, and that he soon will

have done with life. As he goes out he is a dead man. And what can be expected from one who is counting

the last lingering hours of his existence? "It will not be in my time," Mr. Buchanan is reported to have said,

when a friend spoke to him with warning voice of the coming rebellion. "It will not be in my time." In the old

days, before democracy had prevailed in upsetting that system of presidential election which the Constitution

had intended to fix as permanent, the Presidents were generally reelected for a second term. Of the first

seven Presidents five were sent back to the White House for a second period of four years. But this has never

been done since the days of General Jackson; nor will it be done, unless a stronger conservative reaction takes

place than the country even as yet seems to promise. As things have lately ordered themselves, it may almost

be said that no man in the Union would be so improbable a candidate for the Presidency as the outgoing

President. And it has been only natural that it should be so. Looking at the men themselves who have lately

been chosen, the fault has not consisted in their nonreelection, but in their original selection. There has

been no desire for great men; no search after a man of such a nature that, when tried, the people should be

anxious to keep him. "It will not be in my time," says the expiring President. And so, without dismay, he sees

A President, with the possibility of reelection before him, would be as a minister who goes out knowing that

he may possibly come in again before the session is over, and, perhaps, believing that the chances of his

doing so are in his favor. Under the existing political phase of things in the United States, no President has

any such prospect; but the ministers of the President have that chance. It is no uncommon thing at present for

a minister under one President to reappear as a minister under another; but a statesman has no assurance that

he will do so because he has shown ministerial capacity. We know intimately the names of all our possible

ministerstoo intimately as some of us thinkand would be taken much by surprise if a gentleman without

an official reputation were placed at the head of a high office. If something of this feeling prevailed as to the

President's cabinet, if there were some assurance that competent statesmen would be appointed as Secretaries

of State, a certain amount of national responsibility would by degrees attach itself to them, and the President's

shoulders would, to that amount, be lightened. As it is, the President pretends to bear a burden which, if really

borne, would indicate the possession of Herculean shoulders. But, in fact, the burden at present is borne by no

one. The government of the United States is not in truth responsible either to the people or to Congress.

But these ministers, if it be desired that they shall have weight in the country, should sit in Congress either as

Senators or as Representatives. That they cannot so sit without an amendment of the Constitution, I have

explained in the previous chapter; and any such amendment cannot be very readily made. Without such seats

they cannot really share the responsibility of the President, or be in any degree amenable to public opinion for

the advice which they give in their public functions. It will be said that the Constitution has expressly

intended that they should not be responsible, and such, no doubt, has been the case. But the Constitution,

good as it is, cannot be taken as perfect. The government has become greater than seems to have been

contemplated when that code was drawn up. It has spread itself as it were over a wider surface, and has

extended to matters which it was not necessary then to touch. That theory of governing by the means of little

men was very well while the government itself was small. A President and his clerks may have sufficed when

there were from thirteen to eighteen States; while there were no Territories, or none at least that required

government; while the population was still below five millions; while a standing army was an evil not known

and not feared; while foreign politics was a troublesome embroglio in which it was quite unnecessary that the

United States should take a part. Now there are thirtyfour States. The territories populated by American

citizens stretch from the States on the Atlantic to those on the Pacific. There is a population of thirty million

souls. At the present moment the United States are employing more soldiers than any other nation, and have

acknowledged the necessity of maintaining a large army even when the present troubles shall be over. In

addition to this the United States have occasion for the use of statecraft with all the great kingdoms of

Europe. That theory of ruling by little men will not do much longer. It will be well that they should bring

The President has at present seven ministers. They are the Secretary of State, who is supposed to have the

direction of foreign affairs; the Secretary of the Treasury, who answers to our Chancellor of the Exchequer;

the Secretaries of the Army and of the Navy; the Minister of the Interior; the AttorneyGeneral; and the

PostmasterGeneral. If these officers were allowed to hold seats in one House or the otheror rather if the

President were enjoined to place in these offices men who were known as members of Congress, not only

would the position of the President's ministers be enhanced and their weight increased, but the position also

of Congress would be enhanced and the weight of Congress would be increased. I may, perhaps, best

exemplify this by suggesting what would be the effect on our Parliament by withdrawing from it the men

who at the present momentor at any momentform the Queen's cabinet. I will not say that by adding to

Congress the men who usually form the President's cabinet, a weight would be given equal to that which the

withdrawal of the British cabinet would take from the British Parliament. I cannot pay that compliment to the

President's choice of servants. But the relationship between Congress and the President's ministers would

gradually come to resemble that which exists between Parliament and the Queen's ministers. The Secretaries

of State and of the Treasury would after awhile obtain that honor of leading the Houses which is exercised by

our high political officers, and the dignity added to the positions would make the places worthy of the

acceptance of great men. It is hardly so at present. The career of one of the President's ministers is not a very

high career as things now stand; nor is the man supposed to have achieved much who has achieved that

position. I think it would be otherwise if the ministers were the leaders of the legislative houses. To Congress

itself would be given the power of questioning and ultimately of controlling these ministers. The power of the

President would no doubt be diminished as that of Congress would be increased. But an alteration in that

direction is in itself desirable. It is the fault of the present system of government in the United States that the

President has too much of power and weight, while the Congress of the nation lacks power and weight. As

matters now stand, Congress has not that dignity of position which it should hold; and it is without it because

it is not endowed with that control over the officers of the government which our Parliament is enabled to

The want of this close connection with Congress and the President's ministers has been so much felt that it

has been found necessary to create a medium of communication. This has been done by a system which has

now become a recognized part of the machinery of the government, but which is, I believe, founded on no

regularly organized authority; at any rate, no provision is made for it in the Constitution, nor, as far as I am

aware, has it been established by any special enactment or written rule. Nevertheless, I believe I am justified

in saying that it has become a recognized link in the system of government adopted by the United States. In

each House standing committees are named, to which are delegated the special consideration of certain

affairs of State. There are, for instance, Committees of Foreign Affairs, of Finance, the Judiciary Committee,

and others of a similar nature. To these committees are referred all questions which come before the House

bearing on the special subject to which each is devoted. Questions of taxation are referred to the Finance

Committee before they are discussed in the House; and the House, when it goes into such discussion, has

before it the report of the committee. In this way very much of the work of the legislature is done by branches

of each House, and by selected men whose time and intellects are devoted to special subjects. It is easy to see

that much time and useless debate may be thus saved; and I am disposed to believe that this system of

committees has worked efficiently and beneficially. The mode of selection of the members has been so

contrived as to give to each political party that amount of preponderance in each committee which such party

holds in the House. If the Democrats have in the Senate a majority, it would be within their power to vote

none but Democrats into the Committee on Finance; but this would be manifestly unjust to the Republican

party, and the injustice would itself frustrate the object of the party in power; therefore the Democrats simply

vote to themselves a majority in each committee, keeping to themselves as great a preponderance in the

committee as they have in the whole House, and arranging also that the chairman of the committee shall

belong to their own party. By these committees the chief legislative measures of the country are originated

and inaugurated, as they are with us by the ministers of the Crown; and the chairman of each committee is

supposed to have a certain amicable relation with that minister who presides over the office with which his

committee is connected. Mr. Sumner is at present chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, and he is

presumed to be in connection with Mr. Seward, who, as Secretary of State, has the management of the

But it seems to me that this supposed connection between the committees and the ministers is only a

makeshift, showing by its existence the absolute necessity of close communication between the executive and

the legislative, but showing also by its imperfections the great want of some better method of communication.

In the first place, the chairman of the committee is in no way bound to hold any communication with the

minister. He is simply a Senator, and as such has no ministerial duties and can have none. He holds no

appointment under the President, and has no palpable connection with the executive. And then, it is quite as

likely that he may be opposed in politics to the minister as that he may agree with him. If the two be opposed

to each other on general politics, it may be presumed that they cannot act together in union on one special

subject; nor, whether they act in union or do not so act, can either have any authority over the other. The

minister is not responsible to Congress, nor is the chairman of the committee in any way bound to support the

minister. It is presumed that the chairman must know the minister's secrets; but the chairman may be bound

The system of committees appears to me to be good as regards the work of legislation. It seems well adapted

to effect economy of time and the application of special men to special services. But I am driven to think that

that connection between the chairmen of the committees and the ministers which I have attempted to describe

is an arrangement very imperfect in itself, but plainly indicating the necessity of some such close relation

between the executive and the legislature of the United States as does exist in the political system of Great

Britain. With us the Queen's minister has a greater weight in Parliament than the President's minister could

hold in Congress, because the Queen is bound to employ a minister in whom the Parliament has confidence.

As soon as such confidence ceases, the minister ceases to be minister. As the Crown has no politics of its

own, it is simply necessary that the minister of the day should hold the politics of the people as testified by

their representatives. The machinery of the President's government cannot be made to work after this fashion.

The President himself is a political officer, and the country is bound to bear with his politics for four years,

whatever those politics may be. The ministry which he selects, on coming to his seat, will probably represent

a majority in Congress, seeing that the same suffrages which have elected the President will also have elected

the Congress. But there exists no necessity on the part of the President to employ ministers who shall carry

with them the support of Congress. If, however, the minister sat in Congressif it were required of each

minister that he should have a seat either in one House or in the otherthe President would, I think, find

himself constrained to change a ministry in which Congress should decline to confide. It might not be so at

The governing powers do not rest exclusively with the President or with the President and his ministers; they

are shared in a certain degree with the Senate, which sits from time to time in executive session, laying aside

at such periods its legislative character. It is this executive authority which lends so great a dignity to the

Senate, gives it the privilege of preponderating over the other House, and makes it the political safeguard of

the nation. The questions of government as to which the Senate is empowered to interfere are soon told. All

treaties made by the President must be sanctioned by the Senate; and all appointments made by the President

must be confirmed by the Senate. The list is short; and one is disposed to think, when first hearing it, that the

thing itself does not amount to much. But it does amount to very much; it enables the Senate to fetter the

President, if the Senate should be so inclined, both as regards foreign politics and home politics. A Secretary

for Foreign Affairs at Washington may write what dispatches he pleases without reference to the Senate; but

the Senate interferes before those dispatches can have resulted in any fact which may be detrimental to the

nation. It is not only that the Senate is responsible for such treaties as are made, but that the President is

deterred from the making of treaties for which the Senate would decline to make itself responsible. Even

though no treaty should ever be refused its sanction by the Senate, the protecting power of the Senate in that

matter would not on that account have been less necessary or less efficacious. Though the bars with which we

protect our house may never have been tried by a thief, we do not therefore believe that our house would have

been safe if such bars had been known to be wanting. And then, as to that matter of State appointments, is it

not the fact that all governing power consists in the selection of the agents by whom the action of government

shall be carried on? It must come to this, I imagine, when the argument is pushed home. The power of the

most powerful man depends only on the extent of his authority over his agents. According to the Constitution

of the United States, the President can select no agent either at home or abroad, for purposes either of peace

or war, or to the employment of whom the Senate does not agree with him. Such a rule as this should save the

nation from the use of disreputable agents as public servants. It might perhaps have done much more toward

such salvation than it has as yet effected, and it may well be hoped that it will in future do more.

Such are the executive powers of the Senate; and it is, I think, remarkable that the Senate has always used

these powers with extreme moderation. It has never shown a factious inclination to hinder government by

unnecessary interference, or a disposition to clip the President's wings by putting itself altogether at variance

with him. I am not quite sure whether some fault may not have lain on the other side; whether the Senate may

not have been somewhat slack in exercising the protective privileges given to it by the Constitution. And here

I cannot but remark how great is the deference paid to all governors and edicts of government throughout the

United States. One would have been disposed to think that such a feeling would be stronger in an old country

such as Great Britain than in a young country such as the States. But I think that it is not so. There is less

disposition to question the action of government either at Washington or at New York, than there is in

London. Men in America seem to be content when they have voted in their governors, and to feel that for

them all political action is over until the time shall come for voting for others. And this feeling, which seems

to prevail among the people, prevails also in both Houses of Congress. Bitter denunciations against the

President's policy or the President's ministers are seldom heard. Speeches are not often made with the object

of impeding the action of government. That so small and so grave a body as the Senate should abstain from

factious opposition to the government when employed on executive functions, was perhaps to be expected. It

is of course well that it should be so. I confess, however, that it has appeared to me that the Senate has not

used the power placed in its hands as freely as the Constitution has intended, But I look at the matter as an

Englishman, and as an Englishman I can endure no government action which is not immediately subject to

Such are the governing powers of the United States. I think it will be seen that they are much more limited in

their scope of action than with us; but within that scope of action much more independent and selfsufficient.

And, in addition to this, those who exercise power in the United States are not only free from immediate

responsibility, but are not made subject to the hope or fear of future judgment. Success will bring no award,

and failure no punishment. I am not aware that any political delinquency has ever yet brought down

retribution on the head of the offender in the United States, or that any great deed has been held as entitling

the doer of it to his country's gratitude. Titles of nobility they have none; pensions they never give; and

political disgrace is unknown. The line of politics would seem to be cold and unalluring. It is cold; and would

be unalluring, were it not that as a profession it is profitable. In much of this I expect that a change will

gradually take place. The theory has been that public affairs should be in the hands of little men. The theory

was intelligible while the public affairs were small; but they are small no longer, and that theory, I fancy, will

have to alter itself. Great men are needed for the government, and in order to produce great men a career of

greatness must be opened to them. I can see no reason why the career and the men should not be forthcoming.

I do not propose to make any attempt to explain in detail the practices and rules of the American courts of

law. No one but a lawyer should trust himself with such a task, and no lawyer would be enabled to do so in

the few pages which I shall here devote to the subject. My present object is to explain, as far as I may be able

to do so, the existing political position of the country. As this must depend more or less upon the power

vested in the hands of the judges, and upon the tenure by which those judges hold their offices, I shall

endeavor to describe the circumstances of the position in which the American judges are placed; the mode in

which they are appointed; the difference which exists between the National judges and the State judges, and

the extent to which they are or are not held in high esteem by the general public whom they serve.

It will, I think, be acknowledged that this last matter is one of almost paramount importance to the welfare of

a country. At home in England we do not realize the importance to us in a political as well as social view of

the dignity and purity of our judges, because we take from them all that dignity and purity can give as a

matter of course. The honesty of our bench is to us almost as the honesty of heaven. No one dreams that it

can be questioned or become questionable, and therefore there are but few who are thankful for its blessings.

Few Englishmen care to know much about their own courts of law, or are even aware that the judges are the

protectors of their liberties and property. There are the men, honored on all sides, trusted by every one,

removed above temptation, holding positions which are coveted by all lawyers. That it is so is enough for us;

and as the good thence derived comes to us so easily, we forget to remember that we might possibly be

without it. The law courts of the States have much in their simplicity and the general intelligence of their

arrangements to recommend them. In all ordinary causes justice is done with economy, with expedition, and I

believe with precision. But they strike an Englishman at once as being deficient in splendor and dignity, as

wanting that reverence which we think should be paid to words falling from the bench, and as being in danger

as to that purity without which a judge becomes a curse among a people, a chief of thieves, and an

archminister of the Evil One. I say as being in danger; not that I mean to hint that such want of purity has

been shown, or that I wish it to be believed that judges with itching palms do sit upon the American bench;

but because the present political tendency of the State arrangements threatens to produce such danger. We in

England trust implicitly in our judgesnot because they are Englishmen, but because they are Englishmen

carefully selected for their high positions. We should soon distrust them if they were elected by universal

suffrage from all the barristers and attorneys practicing in the different courts; and so elected only for a

period of years, as is the case with reference to many of the State judges in America. Such a mode of

appointment would, in our estimation, at once rob them of their prestige. And our distrust would not be

diminished if the pay accorded to the work were so small that no lawyer in good practice could afford to

accept the situation. When we look at a judge in court, venerable beneath his wig and adorned with his

ermine, we do not admit to ourselves that that high officer is honest because he is placed above temptation by

the magnitude of his salary. We do not suspect that he, as an individual, would accept bribes and favor suitors

if he were in want of money. But, still, we know as a fact that an honest man, like any other good article,

must be paid for at a high price. Judges and bishops expect those rewards which all men win who rise to the

highest steps on the ladder of their profession. And the better they are paid, within measure, the better they

will be as judges and bishops. Now, the judges in America are not well paid, and the best lawyers cannot

With us the practice of the law and the judicature of our law courts are divided. We have chancery barristers

and common law barristers; and we have chancery courts and courts of common law. In the States there is no

such division. It prevails neither in the National or Federal courts of the United States, nor in the courts of

any of the separate States. The code of laws used by the Americans is taken almost entirely from our English

lawsor rather, I should say, the Federal code used by the nation is so taken, and also the various codes of

the different Statesas each State takes whatever laws it may think fit to adopt. Even the precedents of our

courts are held as precedents in the American courts, unless they chance to jar against other decisions given

specially in their own courts with reference to cases of their own. In this respect the founders of the American

law proceedings have shown a conservation bias and a predilection for English written and traditional law

which are much at variance with that general democratic passion for change by which we generally presume

the Americans to have been actuated at their Revolution. But though they have kept our laws, and still respect

our reading of those laws, they have greatly altered and simplified our practice. Whether a double set of

courts of law and equity are or are not expedient, either in the one country or in the other, I do not pretend to

Moreover, there is no division in the legal profession. With us we have barristers and attorneys. In the States

the same man is both barrister and attorney; andwhich is perhaps in effect more startlingevery lawyer is

presumed to undertake law cases of every description. The same man makes your will, sells your property,

brings an action for you of trespass against your neighbor, defends you when you are accused of murder,

recovers for you two and sixpence, and pleads for you in an argument of three days' length when you claim to

be the sole heir to your grandfather's enormous property. I need not describe how terribly distinct with us is

the difference between an attorney and a barrister, or how much farther than poles asunder is the future Lord

Chancellor, pleading before the Lords Justices at Lincoln's Inn, from the gentleman who, at the Old Bailey, is

endeavoring to secure the personal liberty of the ruffian who, a week or two since, walked off with all your

silver spoons. In the States no such differences are known. A lawyer there is a lawyer, and is supposed to do

for any client any work that a lawyer may be called on to perform. But though this is the theoryand as

regards any difference between attorney and barrister is altogether the factthe assumed practice is not, and

cannot be, maintained as regards the various branches of a lawyer's work. When the population was smaller,

and the law cases were less complicated, the theory and the practice were no doubt alike. As great cities have

grown up, and properties large in amount have come under litigation, certain lawyers have found it expedient

and practicable to devote themselves to special branches of their profession. But this, even up to the present

time, has not been done openly, as it were, or with any declaration made by a man as to his own branch of his

calling. I believe that no such declaration on his part would be in accordance with the rules of the profession.

He takes a partner, however, and thus attains his object; or more than one partner, and then the business of the

house is divided among them according to their individual specialties. One will plead in court, another will

give chamber counsel, and a third will take that lower business which must be done, but which firstrate men

It will easily be perceived that law in this way will be made cheaper to the litigant. Whether or no that may be

an unadulterated advantage, I have my doubts. I fancy that the united professional incomes of all the lawyers

in the States would exceed in amount those made in England. In America every man of note seems to be a

lawyer; and I am told that any lawyer who will work may make a sure income. If it be so, it would seem that

Americans per head pay as much (or more) for their law as men do in England. It may be answered that they

get more law for their money. That may be possible, and even yet they may not be gainers. I have been

inclined to think that there was an unnecessarily slow and expensive ceremonial among us in the employment

of barristers through a third party; it has seemed that the man of learning, on whose efforts the litigant really

depends, is divided off from his client and employer by an unfair barrier, used only to enhance his own

dignity and give an unnecessary grandeur to his position. I still think that the fault with us lies in this

direction. But I feel that I am less inclined to demand an immediate alteration in our practice than I was

It should be generally understood that lawyers are the leading men in the States, and that the governance of

the country has been almost entirely in their hands ever since the political life of the nation became full and

strong. All public business of importance falls naturally into their hands, as with us it falls into the hands of

men of settled wealth and landed property. Indeed, the fact on which I insist is much more clear and defined

in the States than it is with us. In England the lawyers also obtain no inconsiderable share of political and

municipal power. The latter is perhaps more in the hands of merchants and men in trade than of any other

class; and even the highest seats of political greatness are more open with us to the world at large than they

seem to be in the States to any that are not lawyers. Since the days of Washington every President of the

United States has, I think, been a lawyer, excepting General Taylor. Other Presidents have been generals, but

then they have also been lawyers. General Jackson was a successful lawyer. Almost all the leading politicians

of the present day are lawyers. Seward, Cameron, Welles, Stanton, Chase, Sumner, Crittenden, Harris,

Fessenden, are all lawyers. Webster, Clay, Calhoun, and Cass were lawyers. Hamilton and Jay were lawyers.

Any man with an ambition to enter upon public life becomes a lawyer as a matter of course. It seems as

though a study and practice of the law were necessary ingredients in a man's preparation for political life. I

have no doubt that a very large proportion of both houses of legislature would be found to consist of lawyers.

I do not remember that I know of the circumstance of more than one Senator who is not a lawyer. Lawyers

form the ruling class in America, as the landowners do with us. With us that ruling class is the wealthiest

The great and everpresent difference between the National or Federal affairs of the United States

government and the affairs of the government of each individual State, should be borne in mind at all times

by those who desire to understand the political position of the States. Till this be realized no one can have any

correct idea of the bearings of politics in that country. As a matter of course we in England have been

inclined to regard the government and Congress of Washington as paramount throughout the States, in the

same way that the government of Downing Street and the Parliament of Westminster are paramount through

the British isles. Such a mistake is natural; but not the less would it be a fatal bar to any correct understanding

of the Constitution of the United States. The National and State governments are independent of each other,

and so also are the National and State tribunals. Each of these separate tribunals has its own judicature, its

own judges, its own courts, and its own functions. Nor can the supreme tribunal at Washington exercise any

authority over the proceedings of the courts in the different States, or influence the decision of their judges.

For not only are the National judges and State judges independent of each other, but the laws in accordance

with which they are bound to act may be essentially different. The two tribunalsthose of the nation and of

the Stateare independent and final in their several spheres. On a matter of State jurisprudence no appeal

lies from the supreme tribunal of New York or Massachusetts to the supreme tribunal of the nation at

The National tribunals are of two classes. First, there is the Supreme Court specially ordained by the

Constitution. And then there are such inferior courts as Congress may from time to time see fit to establish.

Congress has no power to abolish the Supreme Court, or to erect another tribunal superior to it. This court sits

at Washington, and is a final court of appeal from the inferior national courts of the Federal empire. A system

of inferior courts, inaugurated by Congress, has existed for about sixty years. Each State for purposes of

national jurisprudence is constituted as a district; some few large States, such as New York, Pennsylvania,

and Illinois, being divided into two districts. Each district has one district court, presided over by one judge.

National causes in general, both civil and criminal, are commenced in these district courts, and those

involving only small amounts are ended there. Above these district courts are the National circuit courts, the

districts or States having been grouped into circuits as the counties are grouped with us. To each of these

circuits is assigned one of the judges of the Supreme Court of Washington, who is the ex officio judge of

that circuit, and who therefore travels as do our common law judges. In each district he sits with the judge of

that district, and they two together form the circuit court. Appeals from the district court lie to the circuit

court in cases over a certain amount, and also in certain criminal cases. It follows therefore that appeals lie

from one judge to the same judge when sitting with anotheran arrangement which would seem to be

fraught with some inconvenience. Certain causes, both civil and criminal, are commenced in the circuit

courts. From the circuit courts the appeal lies to the Supreme Court at Washington; but such appeal beyond

the circuit court is not allowed in cases which are of small magnitude or which do not involve principles of

importance. If there be a division of opinion in the circuit court the case goes to the Supreme Court; from

whence it might be inferred that all cases brought from the district court to the circuit court would be sent on

to the Supreme Court, unless the circuit judge agreed with the district judge; for the district judge having

given his judgment in the inferior court, would probably adhere to it in the superior court. No appeal lies to

All questions that concern more than one State, or that are litigated between citizens of different States, or

which are international in their bearing, come before the national judges. All cases in which foreigners are

concerned, or the rights of foreigners, are brought or may be brought into the national courts. So also are all

causes affecting the Union itself, or which are governed by the laws of Congress and not by the laws of any

individual State. All questions of admiralty law and maritime jurisdiction, and cases affecting ambassadors or

consuls, are there tried. Matters relating to the postoffice, to the customs, the collection of national taxes, to

patents, to the army and navy, and to the mint, are tried in the national courts. The theory is, that the national

tribunals shall expound and administer the national laws and treaties, protect national offices and national

rights; and that foreigners and citizens of other States shall not be required to submit to the decisions of the

State tribunals; in fact, that national tribunals shall take cognizance of all matters as to which the general

government of the nation is responsible. In most of such cases the national tribunals have exclusive

jurisdiction. In others it is optional with the plaintiff to select his tribunal. It is then optional with the

defendant, if brought into a State court, to remain there or to remove his cause into the national tribunal. The

principle is, that either at the beginning, or ultimately, such questions shall or may be decided by the national

tribunals. If in any suit properly cognizable in a State court the decision should turn on a clause in the

Constitution, or on a law of the United States, or on the act of a national offense, or on the validity of a

national act, an appeal lies to the Supreme Court of the United States and to its officers. The object has been

to give to the national tribunals of the nation full cognizance of its own laws, treaties, and congressional acts.

The judges of all the national tribunals, of whatever grade or rank, hold their offices for life, and are

removable only on impeachment. They are not even removable on an address of Congress; thus holding on a

firmer tenure even than our own judges, who may, I believe, be moved on an address by Parliament. The

judges in America are not entitled to any pension or retiring allowances; and as there is not, as regards the

judges of the national courts, any proviso that they shall cease to sit after a certain age, they are in fact

immovable whatever may be their infirmities. Their position in this respect is not good, seeing that their

salaries will hardly admit of their making adequate provision for the evening of life. The salary of the Chief

Justice of the United States is only 1300l. per annum. All judges of the national courts, of whatever rank, are

appointed by the President, but their appointments must be confirmed by the Senate. This proviso, however,

gives to the Senate practically but little power, and is rarely used in opposition to the will of the President. If

the President name one candidate, who on political grounds is distasteful to a majority of the Senate, it is not

probable that a second nomination made by him will be more satisfactory. This seems now to be understood,

and the nomination of the cabinet ministers and of the judges, as made by the President, are seldom set aside

or interfered with by the Senate, unless on grounds of purely personal objection.

The position of the national judges as to their appointments and mode of tenure is very different from that of

the State judges, to whom in a few lines I shall more specially allude. This should, I think, be specially

noticed by Englishmen when criticising the doings of the American courts. I have observed statements made

to the effect that decisions given by American judges as to international or maritime affairs affecting English

interests could not be trusted, because the judges so giving them would have been elected by popular vote,

and would be dependent on the popular voice for reappointment. This is not so. Judges are appointed by

popular vote in very many of the States. But all matters affecting shipping and all questions touching

foreigners are tried in the national courts before judges who have been appointed for life. I should not myself

have had any fear with reference to the ultimate decision in the affair of Slidell and Mason had the "Trent"

been carried into New York. I would, however, by no means say so much had the cause been one for trial

I have been told that we in England have occasionally fallen into the error of attributing to the Supreme Court

at Washington a quasi political power which it does not possess. This court can give no opinion to any

department of the government, nor can it decide upon or influence any subject that has not come before it as a

regularly litigated case in law. Though especially founded by the Constitution, it has no peculiar power under

the Constitution, and stands in no peculiar relation either to that or to acts of Congress. It has no other power

to decide on the constitutional legality of an act of Congress or an act of a State legislature, or of a public

officer, than every court, State and National, high and low, possesses and is bound to exercise. It is simply the

In the different States such tribunals have been established as each State by its constitution and legislation has

seen fit to adopt. The States are entirely free on this point. The usual course is to have one Supreme Court,

sometimes called by that name, sometimes the Court of Appeals, and sometimes the Court of Errors. Then

they have such especial courts as their convenience may dictate. The State jurisprudence includes all causes

not expressly or by necessary implication secured to the national courts. The tribunals of the States have

exclusive control over domestic relations, religion, education, the tenure and descent of land, the inheritance

of property, police regulations, municipal economy, and all matters of internal trade. In this category, of

course, come the relations of husband and wife, parent and child, master and servant, owner and slave,

guardian and ward, tradesman and apprentice. So also do all police and criminal regulations not external in

their character highways, railroads, canals, schools, colleges, the relief of paupers, and those thousand

other affairs of the world by which men are daily surrounded in their own homes and their own districts. As

to such subjects Congress can make no law, and over them Congress and the national tribunals have no

jurisdiction. Congress cannot say that a man shall be hung for murder in New York, nor if a man be

condemned to be hung in New York can the President pardon him. The legislature of New York must say

whether or no hanging shall be the punishment adjudged to murder in that State; and the Governor of the

State of New York must pronounce the man's pardonif it be that he is to be pardoned. But Congress must

decide whether or no a man shall be hung for murder committed on the high seas, or in the national forts or

arsenals; and in such a case it is for the President to give or to refuse the pardon.

The judges of the States are appointed as the constitution or the laws of each State may direct in that matter.

The appointments, I think, in all the old States, were formerly vested in the governor. In some States such is

still the case. In some, if I am not mistaken, the nomination is now made, directly, by the legislature. But in

most of the States the power of appointing has been claimed by the people, and the judges are voted in by

popular election, just as the President of the Union and the Governors of the different States are voted in.

There has for some years been a growing tendency in this direction, and the people in most of the States have

claimed the poweror rather the power has been given to the people by politicians who have wished to get

into their hands, in this way, the patronage of the courts. But now, at the present moment, there is arising a

strong feeling of the inexpediency of appointing judges in such a manner. An antidemocratic bias is taking

possession of men's minds, causing a reaction against that tendency to universal suffrage in everything which

prevailed before the war began. As to this matter of the mode of appointing judges, I have heard but one

opinion expressed; and I am inclined to think that a change will be made in one State after another, as the

constitutions of the different States are revised. Such revisions take place generally at periods of about

twentyfive years' duration. If, therefore, it be acknowledged that the system be bad, the error can be soon

Nor is this mode of appointment the only evil that has been adopted in the State judicatures. The judges in

most of the States are not appointed for life, nor even during good behavior. They enter their places for a

certain term of years, varying from fifteen down, I believe, to seven. I do not know whether any are appointed

for a term of less than seven years. When they go out they have no pensions; and as a lawyer who has been

on the bench for seven years can hardly recall his practice, and find himself at once in receipt of his old

professional income, it may easily be imagined how great will be the judge's anxiety to retain his position on

the bench. This he can do only by the universal suffrages of the people, by political popularity, and a general

standing of that nature which enables a man to come forth as the favorite candidate of the lower orders. This

may or may not be well when the place sought for is one of political powerwhen the duties required are

political in all their bearings. But no one can think it well when the place sought for is a judge's seat on the

benchwhen the duties required are solely judicial. Whatever hitherto may have been the conduct of the

judges in the courts of the different States, whether or no impurity has yet crept in, and the sanctity of justice

has yet been outraged, no one can doubt the tendency of such an arrangement. At present even a few visits to

the courts constituted in this manner will convince an observer that the judges on the bench are rather inferior

than superior to the lawyers who practice before them. The manner of address, the tone of voice, the lack of

dignity in the judge, and the assumption by the lawyer before him of a higher authority than his, all tell this

tale. And then the judges in these courts are not paid at a rate which will secure the services of the best men.

They vary in the different States, running from about 600l. to about 1000l. per annum. But a successful

lawyer, practicing in the courts in which these judges sit, not unfrequently earns 3000l. a year. A professional

income of 2000l. a year is not considered very high. When the different conditions of the bench are

considered, when it is remembered that the judge may lose his place after a short term of years, and that

during that short term of years he receives a payment much less than that earned by his successful

professional brethren, it can hardly be expected that firstrate judges should be found. The result is seen daily

in society. You meet Judge This and Judge That, not knowing whether they are exjudges or injudges; but

you soon learn that your friends do not hold any very high social position on account of their forensic dignity.

It is, perhaps, but just to add that in Massachusetts, which I cannot but regard as in many respects the noblest

of the States, the judges are appointed by the Governor, and are appointed for life.

The Americans are proud of much that they have done in this war, and indeed much has been done which

may justify pride; but of nothing are they so proud as of the noble dimensions and quick growth of their

government debt. That Mr. Secretary Chase, the American Chancellor of the Exchequer, participates in this

feeling I will not venture to say; but if he do not, he is wellnigh the only man in the States who does not do

so. The amount of expenditure has been a subject of almost national pride, and the two millions of dollars a

day, which has been roughly put down as the average cost of the war, has always been mentioned by

Northern men in a tone of triumph. This feeling is, I think, intelligible; and although we cannot allude to it

without a certain amount of inward sarcasm, a little gentle laughing in the sleeve, at the nature of this national

joy, I am not prepared to say that it is altogether ridiculous. If the country be found able and willing to pay

the bill, this triumph in the amount of the cost will hereafter be regarded as having been anything but

ridiculous. In private life an individual will occasionally be known to lavish his whole fortune on the

accomplishment of an object which he conceives to be necessary to his honor. If the object be in itself good,

and if the money be really paid, we do not laugh at such a man for the sacrifices which he makes.

For myself, I think that the object of the Northern States in this war has been good. I think that they could not

have avoided the war without dishonor, and that it was incumbent on them to make themselves the arbiters of

the future position of the South, whether that future position shall or shall not be one of secession. This they

could only do by fighting. Had they acceded to secession without a civil war, they would have been regarded

throughout Europe as having shown themselves inferior to the South, and would for many years to come have

lost that prestige which their spirit and energy had undoubtedly won for them; and in their own country such

submission on their part would have practically given to the South the power of drawing the line of division

between the two new countries. That line, so drawn, would have given Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and

Missouri to the Southern Republic. The great effect of the war to the North will be, that the Northern men

will draw the line of secession, if any such line be drawn. I still think that such line will ultimately be drawn,

and that the Southern States will be allowed to secede. But if it be so, Virginia, Maryland, Kentucky, and

Missouri will not be found among these seceding States; and the line may not improbably be driven south of

North Carolina and Tennessee. If this can be so, the object of the war will, I think, hereafter be admitted to

have been good. Whatever may be the cost in money of joining the States which I have named to a freesoil

Northern people, instead of allowing them to be buried in that dismal swamp which a confederacy of

Southern slave States will produce, that cost can hardly be too much. At the present moment there exists in

England a strong sympathy with the South, produced partly by the unreasonable vituperation with which the

North treated our government at the beginning of the war, and by the capture of Mason and Slidell; partly

also by that feeling of goodwill which a looker on at a combat always has for the weaker side. But, although

this sympathy does undoubtedly exist, I do not imagine that many Englishmen are of opinion that a

confederacy of Southern slave States will ever offer to the general civilization of the world very many

attractions. It cannot be thought that the South will equal the North in riches, in energy, in education, or

general wellbeing. Such has not been our experience of any slave country; such has not been our experience

of any tropical country; and such especially has not been our experience of the Southern States of the North

American Union. I am no abolitionist, but to me it seems impossible that any Englishman should really

advocate the cause of slavery against the cause of free soil. There are the slaves, and I know that they cannot

be abolishedneither they nor their chains; but, for myself, I will not willingly join my lot with theirs. I do

not wish to have dealings with the African negro, either as a free man or as a slave, if I can avoid them,

believing that his employment by me in either capacity would lead to my own degradation.* Such, I think,

are the feelings of Englishmen generally on this matter. And if such be the case, will it not be acknowledged

that the Northern men have done well to fight for a line which shall add five or six States to that Union which

will in truth be a union of free men, rather than to that confederacy which, even if successful, must owe its

* In saying this I fear that I shall be misunderstood, let me use what foot note or other mode of protestation I

may to guard myself. In thus speaking of the African negro, I do not venture to despise the work of God's

hands. That He has made the negro, for His own good purposes, as He has the Esquimaux, I am aware. And I

am aware that it is my duty, as it is the duty of us all, to see that no injury be done to him, and, if possible, to

assist him in his condition. When I declare that I desire no dealings with the negro, I speak of him in the

position in which I now find him, either as a free servant or a slave. In either position he impedes the

In considering this matter it must be remembered that the five or six States of which we are speaking are at

present slave States, but that, with the exception of Virginiaof part only of Virginiathey are not wedded

to slavery. But even in Virginiagreat as has been the gain which has accrued to that unhappy State from the

breeding of slaves for the Southern marketeven in Virginia slavery would soon die out if she were divided

from the South and joined to the North. In those other States, in Maryland, in Kentucky, and in Missouri,

there is no desire to perpetuate the institution. They have been slave States, and as such have resented the

rabid abolition of certain Northern orators. Had it not been for those orators, and their oratory, the soil of

Kentucky would now have been free. Those five or six States are now slave States; but a line of secession

drawn south of them will be the line which cuts off slavery from the North. If those States belong to the

North when secession shall be accomplished, they will belong to it as free States; but if they belong to the

South, they will belong to the South as slave States. If they belong to the North, they will become rich as the

North is, and will share in the education of the North. If they belong to the South, they will become poor as

the South is, and will share in the ignorance of the South. If we presume that secession will be

accomplishedand I for one am of that opinionhas it not been well that a war should be waged with such

an object as this? If those five or six States can be gained, stretching east and west from the Atlantic to the

center of the continent, hundreds of miles beyond the Mississippi, and north and south over four degrees of

latitudeif that extent of continent can be added to the free soil of the Northern territory, will not the contest

So much as to the object to be gained by the money spent on the war! And I think that in estimating the

nature of the financial position which the war has produced it was necessary that we should consider the

value of the object which has been in dispute. The object, I maintain, has been good. Then comes the question

whether or no the bill will be fairly paidwhether they who have spent the money will set about that

disagreeable task of settling the account with a true purpose and an honest energy. And this question splits

itself into two parts. Will the Americans honestly wish to pay the bill; and if they do so wish, will they have

the power to pay it? Again that last question must be once more divided. Will they have the power to pay, as

regards the actual possession of the means, and if possessing them, will they have the power of access to

The nation has obtained for itself an evil name for repudiation. We all know that Pennsylvania behaved badly

about her money affairs, although she did at last pay her debts. We all know that Mississippi has behaved

very badly about her money affairs, and has never paid her debts, nor does she intend to pay them. And,

which is worse than this, for it applies to the nation generally and not to individual States, we all know that it

was made a matter of boast in the States that in the event of a war with England the enormous amount of

property held by Englishmen in the States should be confiscated. That boast was especially made in the

mercantile City of New York; and when the matter was discussed it seemed as though no American realized

the iniquity of such a threat. It was not apparently understood that such a confiscation on account of a war

would be an act of national robbery justified simply by the fact that the power of committing it would be in

the hands of the robbers. Confiscation of so large an amount of wealth would be a smart thing, and men did

not seem to perceive that any disgrace would attach to it in the eyes of the world at large. I am very anxious

not to speak harsh words of the Americans; but when questions arise as to pecuniary arrangements, I find

But, nevertheless, I am not sure that we shall be fair if we allow ourselves to argue as to the national purpose

in this matter from such individual instances of dishonesty as those which I have mentioned. I do not think it

is to be presumed that the United States as a nation will repudiate its debts because two separate States may

have been guilty of repudiation. Nor am I disposed to judge of the honesty of the people generally from the

dishonest threatenings of New York, made at a moment in which a war with England was considered

imminent. I do believe that the nation, as a nation, will be as ready to pay for the war as it has been ready to

carry on the war. That "ignorant impatience of taxation," to which it is supposed that we Britons are subject,

has not been a complaint rife among the Americans generally. We, in England, are inclined to believe that

hitherto they have known nothing of the merits and demerits of taxation, and have felt none of its

annoyances, because their entire national expenditure has been defrayed by light custom duties; but the levies

made in the separate States for State purposes, or chiefly for municipal purposes, have been very heavy. They

are, however, collected easily, and, as far as I am aware, without any display of ignorant impatience. Indeed,

an American is rarely impatient of any ordained law. Whether he be told to do this, or to pay for that, or to

abstain from the other, he does do and pay and abstain without grumbling, provided that he has had a hand in

voting for those who made the law and for those who carry out the law. The people generally have, I think,

recognized the fact that they will have to put their necks beneath the yoke, as the peoples of other nations

have put theirs, and support the weight of a great national debt. When the time comes for the struggle, for the

first uphill heaving against the terrible load which they will henceforth have to drag with them in their career,

I think it will be found that they are not ill inclined to put their shoulders to the work.

Then as to their power of paying the bill! We are told that the wealth of a nation consists in its labor, and that

that nation is the most wealthy which can turn out of hand the greatest amount of work. If this be so, the

American States must form a very wealthy nation, and as such be able to support a very heavy burden. No

one, I presume, doubts that that nation which works the most, or works rather to the best effect, is the richest.

On this account England is richer than other countries, and is able to bear, almost without the sign of an

effort, a burden which would crush any other land. But of this wealth the States own almost as much as Great

Britain owns. The population of the Northern States is industrious, ambitious of wealth, and capable of work

as is our population. It possesses, or is possessed by, that restless longing for labor which creates wealth

almost unconsciously. Whether this man be rich or be a bankrupt, whether the bankers of that city fail or

make their millions, the creative energies of the American people will not become dull. Idleness is impossible

to them, and therefore poverty is impossible. Industry and intellect together will always produce wealth; and

neither industry nor intellect is ever wanting to an American. They are the two gifts with which the fairy has

endowed him. When she shall have added honesty as a third, the taxgatherer can desire no better country in

I cannot myself think that all the millions that are being spent would weigh upon the country with much

oppression, if the weight were once properly placed upon the muscles that will have to bear it. The difficulty

will be in the placing of the weight. It has, I know, been argued that the circumstances under which our

national debt has extended itself to its present magnificent dimensions cannot be quoted as parallel to those of

the present American debt, because we, while we were creating the debt, were taxing ourselves very heavily,

whereas the Americans have gone ahead with the creation of their debt before they have levied a shilling on

themselves toward the payment of those expenses for which the debt has been encountered. But this

argument, even if it were true in its gist, goes no way toward proving that the Americans will be unable to

pay. The population of the present freesoil States is above eighteen millions; that of the States which will

probably belong to the Union if secession be accomplished is about twentytwo millions. At a time when our

debt had amounted to six hundred millions sterling we had no population such as that to bear the burden. It

may be said that we had more amassed wealth than they have. But I take it that the amassed wealth of any

country can go but a very little way in defraying the wants or in paying the debts of a people. We again come

back to the old maxim, that the labor of a country is its wealth; and that a country will be rich or poor in

But the argument drawn from that comparison between our own conduct when we were creating our debt,

and the conduct of the Americans while they have been creating their debtduring the twelve months from

April 1, 1861, to March 31, 1862, let us sayis hardly a fair argument. We, at any rate, knew how to tax

ourselvesif only the taxes might be forthcoming. We were already well used to the work; and a minister

with a willing House of Commons had all his material ready to his hand. It has not been so in the United

States. The difficulty has not been with the people who should pay the taxes, but with the minister and the

Congress which did not know how to levy them. Certainly not as yet have those who are now criticising the

doings on the other side of the water a right to say that the American people are unwilling to make personal

sacrifices for the carrying out of this war. No sign has as yet been shown of an unwillingness on the part of

the people to be taxed. But wherever a sign could be given, it has been given on the other side. The separate

States have taxed themselves very heavily for the support of the families of the absent soldiers. The extra

allowances made to maimed men, amounting generally to twentyfour shillings a month, have been paid by

I am of opinion that the Americans will show no unwillingness to pay the amount of taxation which must be

exacted from them; and I also think that as regards their actual means they will have the power to pay it. But

as regards their power of obtaining access to those means, I must confess that I see many difficulties in their

way. In the first place they have no financier, no man who by natural aptitude and by longcontinued contact

with great questions of finance, has enabled himself to handle the money affairs of a nation with a master's

hand. In saying this I do not intend to impute any blame to Mr. Chase, the present Secretary of the Treasury.

Of his ability to do the work properly had he received the proper training, I am not able to judge. It is not that

Mr. Chase is incapable. He may be capable or incapable. But it is that he has not had the education of a

national financier, and that he has no one at his elbow to help him who has had that advantage.

And here we are again brought to that general absence of statecraft which has been the result of the American

system of government. I am not aware that our Chancellors of the Exchequer have in late years always been

great masters of finance; but they have at any rate been among money men and money matters, and have had

financiers at their elbows if they have not deserved the name themselves. The very fact that a Chancellor of

the Exchequer sits in the house of Commons and is forced in that House to answer all questions on the

subject of finance, renders it impossible that he should be ignorant of the rudiments of the science. If you put

a white cap on a man's head and place him in a kitchen, he will soon learn to be a cook. But he will never be

made a cook by standing in the diningroom and seeing the dishes as they are brought up. The Chancellor of

the Exchequer is our cook; and the House of Commons, not the Treasury chambers, is his kitchen. Let the

Secretary of the United States Treasury sit in the House of Representatives! He would learn more there by

contest with opposing members than he can do by any amount of study in his own chamber.

But the House of Representatives itself has not as yet learned its own lesson with reference to taxation. When

I say that the United States are in want of a financier, I do not mean that the deficiency rests entirely with Mr.

Chase. This necessity for taxation, and for taxation at so tremendous a rate, has come suddenly, and has

found the representatives of the people unprepared for such work. To us, as I conceive, the science of

taxation, in which we certainly ought to be great, has come gradually. We have learned by slow lessons what

taxes will be productive, under what circumstances they will be most productive, and at what point they will

be made unproductive by their own weight. We have learned what taxes may be levied so as to afford funds

themselves, without injuring the proceeds of other taxes, and we know what taxes should be eschewed as

being specially oppressive to the general industry and injurious to the wellbeing of the nation. This has

come of much practice, and even we, with all our experience, have even got something to learn. But the

public men in the States who are now devoting themselves to this matter of taxing the people have, as yet, no

such experience. That they have inclination enough for the work is, I think, sufficiently demonstrated by the

national tax bill, the wording of which is now before me, and which will have been passed into law before

this volume can be published. It contains a list of every taxable article on the earth or under the earth. A more

sweeping catalogue of taxation was probably never put forth. The Americans, it has been said by some of us,

have shown no disposition to tax themselves for this war; but before the war has as yet been well twelve

months in operation, a bill has come out with a list of taxation so oppressive that it must, as regards many of

its items, act against itself and cut its own throat. It will produce terrible fraud in its evasion, and create an

army of excise officers who will be as locusts over the face of the country. Taxes are to be laid on articles

which I should have said that universal consent had declared to be unfit for taxation. Salt, soap, candles, oil,

and other burning fluids, gas, pins, paper, ink, and leather, are to be taxed. It was at first proposed that wheat

flour should be taxed, but that item has, I believe, been struck out of the bill in its passage through the House.

All articles manufactured of cotton, wool, silk, worsted, flax, hemp, jute, Indiarubber, guttapercha, wood

(?), glass, pottery wares, leather, paper, iron, steel, lead, tin, copper, zinc, brass, gold and silver, horn, ivory,

bone, bristles, wholly or in part, or of other materials, are to be taxed provided always that books,

magazines, pamphlets, newspapers, and reviews shall not be regarded as manufactures. It will be said that the

amount of taxation to be levied on the immense number of manufactured articles which must be included in

this list will be light, the tax itself being only 3 per cent. ad valorem. But with reference to every article, there

will be the necessity of collecting this 3 per cent. As regards each article that is manufactured, some

government official must interfere to appraise its value and to levy the tax. Who shall declare the value of a

barrel of wooden nutmegs; or how shall the excise officer get his tax from every cobbler's stall in the

country? And then tradesmen are to pay licenses for their tradesa confectioner 2l., a tallow chandler 2l., a

horse dealer 2l. Every man whose business it is to sell horses shall be a horse dealer. True. But who shall say

whether or no it be a man's business to sell horses? An apothecary 2l., a photographer 2l., a peddler 4l., 3l.,

2l., or 1l., according to his mode of traveling. But if the gross receipts of any of the confectioners,

tallowchandlers, horse dealers, apothecaries, photographers, peddlers, or the like do not exceed 200l. a year,

then such tradesmen shall not be required to pay for any license at all. Surely such a proviso can only have

been inserted with the express view of creating fraud and ill blood! But the greatest audacity has, I think,

been shown in the levying of personal taxes, such taxes as have been held to be peculiarly disagreeable

among us, and have specially brought down upon us the contempt of lightly taxed people, who, like the

Americans, have known nothing of domestic interference. Carriages are to be taxed, as they are with us.

Pianos also are to be taxed, and plate. It is not signified by this clause that such articles shall pay a tax, once

for all, while in the maker's hands, which tax would no doubt fall on the future owner of such piano or plate;

in such case the owner would pay, but would pay without any personal contact with the taxgatherer. But

every owner of a piano or of plate is to pay annually according to the value of the articles he owns. But

perhaps the most audacious of all the proposed taxes is that on watches. Every owner of a watch is to pay 4s.

a year for a gold watch and 2s. a year for a silver watch! The American taxgatherers will not like to be

cheated. They will be very keen in searching for watches. But who can say whether they or the carriers of

watches will have the best of it in such a hunt. The taxgatherers will be as hounds ever at work on a cold

scent. They will now be hot and angry, and then dull and disheartened. But the carriers of watches who do not

choose to pay will generally, one may predict, be able to make their points good.

With such a tax billwhich I believe came into action on the 1st of May, 1862the Americans are not

fairly open to the charge of being unwilling to tax themselves. They have avoided none of the irritating

annoyances of taxation, as also they have not avoided, or attempted to lighten for themselves, the dead weight

of the burden. The dead weight they are right to endure without flinching; but their mode of laying it on their

own backs justifies me, I think, in saying that they do not yet know how to obtain access to their own means.

But this bill applies simply to matters of excise. As I have said before, Congress, which has hitherto

supported the government by custom duties, has also the power of levying excise duties, and now, in its first

session since the commencement of the war, has begun to use that power without much hesitation or

bashfulness. As regards their taxes levied at the customhouse, the government of the United States has

always been inclined to high duties, with the view of protecting the internal trade and manufactures of the

country. The amount required for national expenses was easily obtained; and these duties were not regulated,

as I think, so much with a view to the amount which might be collected as to that of the effect which the tax

might have in fostering native industry. That, if I understand it, was the meaning of Mr. Morrill's bill, which

was passed immediately on the secession of the Southern members of Congress, and which instantly

enhanced the price of all foreign manufactured goods in the States. But now the desire for protection, simply

as protection, has been swallowed up in the acknowledged necessity for revenue; and the only object to be

recognized in the arrangement of the custom duties is the collection of the greatest number of dollars. This is

fair enough. If the country can, at such a crisis, raise a better revenue by claiming a shilling a pound on coffee

than it can by claiming sixpence, the shilling may be wisely claimed, even though many may thus be

prohibited from the use of coffee. But then comes the great question, What duty will really give the greatest

product? At what rate shall we tax coffee so as to get at the people's money? If it be so taxed that people

won't use it, the tax cuts its own throat. There is some point at which the tax will be most productive; and also

there is a point up to which the tax will not operate to the serious injury of the trade. Without the knowledge

which should indicate these points, a Chancellor of the Exchequer, with his myrmidons, would be groping in

the dark. As far as we can yet see, there is not much of such knowledge either in the Treasury chambers or

But the greatest difficulty which the States will feel in obtaining access to their own means of taxation is that

which is created by the Constitution itself, and to which I alluded when speaking of the taxing powers which

the Constitution had given to Congress and those which it had denied to Congress. As to custom duties and

excise duties, Congress can do what it pleases, as can the House of Commons. But Congress cannot levy

direct taxation according to its own judgment. In those matters of customs and excise Congress and the

Secretary of the Treasury will probably make many blunders; but, having the power, they will blunder

through, and the money will be collected. But direct taxation in an available shape is beyond the power of

Congress under the existing rule of the Constitution. No income tax, for instance, can be laid on the general

incomes of the United States that shall be universal throughout the States. An income tax can be levied, but it

must be levied in proportion to the representation. It is as though our Chancellor of the Exchequer, in

collecting an income tax, were obliged to demand the same amount of contribution from the town of Chester

as from the town of Liverpool, because both Chester and Liverpool return two members to Parliament. In

fitting his tax to the capacity of Chester, he would be forced to allow Liverpool to escape unscathed. No skill

in money matters on the part of the Treasury Secretary, and no aptness for finance on the part of the

Committee of Ways and Means, can avail here. The Constitution must apparently be altered before any

serviceable resort can be had to direct taxation. And yet, at such an emergency as that now existing, direct

taxation would probably give more ready assistance than can be afforded either by the customs or the excise.

It has been stated to me that this difficulty in the way of direct taxation can be overcome without any change

in the Constitution. Congress could only levy from Rhode Island the same amount of income tax that it might

levy from Iowa; but it will be competent to the legislature of Rhode Island itself to levy what income tax it

may please on itself, and to devote the proceeds to National or Federal purposes. Rhode Island may do so,

and so may Massachusetts, New York, Connecticut, and the other rich Atlantic States. They may tax

themselves according to their riches, while Iowa, Illinois, Wisconsin, and such like States are taxing

themselves according to their poverty. I cannot myself think that it would be well to trust to the generosity of

the separate States for the finances needed by the national government. We should not willingly trust to

Yorkshire or Sussex to give us their contributions to the national income, especially if Yorkshire and Sussex

had small Houses of Commons of their own in which that question of giving might be debated. It may be

very well for Rhode Island or New York to be patriotic! But what shall be done with any State that declines

to evince such patriotism? The legislatures of the different States may be invited to impose a tax of five per

cent. on all incomes in each State; but what will be done if Pennsylvania, for instance, should decline, or

Illinois should hesitate? What if the legislature of Massachusetts should offer six per cent., or that of New

Jersey decide that four per cent. was sufficient? For awhile the arrangement might possibly be made to

answer the desired purpose. During the first ebullition of high feeling the different States concerned might

possibly vote the amount of taxes required for Federal purposes. I fear it would not be so, but we may allow

that the chance is on the card. But it is not conceivable that such an arrangement should be continued when,

after a year or two, men came to talk over the war with calmer feelings and a more critical judgment. The

State legislatures would become inquisitive, opinionative, and probably factious. They would be unwilling to

act, in so great a matter, under the dictation of the Federal Congress; and, by degrees, one and then another

would decline to give its aid to the central government. However broadly the acknowledgment may have

been made that the levying of direct taxes was necessary for the nation, each State would be tempted to argue

that a wrong mode and a wrong rate of levying had been adopted, and words would be forthcoming instead of

money. A resort to such a mode of taxation would be a bad security for government stock.

All matters of taxation, moreover, should be free from any taint of generosity. A man who should attempt to

lessen the burdens of his country by gifts of money to its exchequer would be laying his country under an

obligation for which his country would not thank him. The gifts here would be from States, and not from

individuals but the principle would be the same. I cannot imagine that the United States government would be

willing to owe its revenue to the goodwill of different States, or its want of revenue to their caprice. If under

such an arrangement the Western States were to decline to vote the quota of income tax or property tax to

which the Eastern States had agreedand in all probability they would declinethey would in fact be

seceding. They would thus secede from the burdens of their general country; but in such event no one could

It is not easy to ascertain with precision what is the present amount of debt due by the United States; nor

probably has any tolerably accurate guess been yet given of the amount to which it may be extended during

the present war. A statement made in the House of Representatives by Mr. Spaulding, a member of the

Committee of Ways and Means, on the 29th of January last, may perhaps be taken as giving as trustworthy

information as any that can be obtained. I have changed Mr. Spaulding's figures from dollars into pounds,

This was the amount of the debt due up to January 15th, 1862. Mr. Spaulding then calculates that the sum

required to carry on the government up to July 1st, 1862, will be 68,647,077l. And that a further sum of

110,000,000l. will be wanted on or before the 1st of July, 1863. Thus the debt at that latter date would stand

The first of these items may no doubt be taken as accurate. The second has probably been founded on facts

which leave little doubt as to its substantial truth. The third, which professes to give the proposed expense of

the war for the forthcoming year, viz., from July 1st, 1862, to June 30th, 1863, must necessarily have been

obtained by a very loose estimate. No one can say what may be the condition of the country during the next

yearwhether the war may then be raging throughout the Southern States, or whether the war may not have

ceased altogether. The North knows little or nothing of the capacity of the South. How little it knows may be

surmised from the fact that the whole Southern army of Virginia retreated from their position at Manassas

before the Northern generals knew that they were moving; and that when they were gone no word whatever

was left of their numbers. I do not believe that the Northern government is even yet able to make any

probable conjecture as to the number of troops which the Southern Confederacy is maintaining; and if this be

so, they can certainly make no trustworthy estimates as to their own expenses for the ensuing year.

Two hundred and forty millions is, however, the sum named by a gentleman presumed to be conversant with

the matter, as the amount of debt which may be expected by midsummer, 1863; and if the war be continued

till then, it will probably be found that he has not exceeded the mark. It is right, however, to state that Mr.

Chase in his estimate does not rate the figures so high. He has given it as his opinion that the debt will be

about one hundred and four millions in July, 1862, and one hundred and eighty millions in July, 1863. As to

the first amount, with reference to which a tolerably accurate calculation may probably be made, I am

inclined to prefer the estimate as given by the member of the committee; and as to the other, which hardly, as

I think, admits of any calculation, his calculation is at any rate as good as that made in the Treasury.

But it is the immediate want of funds, and not the prospective debt of the country, which is now doing the

damage. In this opinion Mr. Chase will probably agree with me; but readers on this side of the water will

receive what I say with a smile. Such a state of affairs is certainly one that has not uncommonly been reached

by financiers; it has also often been experienced by gentlemen in the management of their private affairs. It

has been common in Ireland, and in London has created the wealth of the pawnbrokers. In the States at the

present time the government is very much in this condition. The prospective wealth of the country is almost

unbounded, but there is great difficulty in persuading any pawnbroker to advance money on the pledge. In

February last Mr. Chase was driven to obtain the sanction of the legislature for paying the national creditors

by bills drawn at twelve months' date, and bearing 6 per cent. interest. It is the old story of the tailor who calls

with his little account, and draws on his insolvent debtor at ninety days. If the insolvent debtor be not utterly

gone as regards solvency he will take up the bill when due, even though he may not be able to pay a simple

debt. But, then, if he be utterly insolvent, he can do neither the one nor the other! The Secretary of the

Treasury, when he asked for permission to accept these billsor to issue these certificates, as he calls

themacknowledged to pressing debts of over five millions sterling which he could not pay; and to further

debts of eight millions which he could not pay, but which he termed floating; debts, if I understand him,

which were not as yet quite pressing. Now I imagine that to be a lamentable condition for any Chancellor of

an Exchequerespecially as a confession is at the same time made that no advantageous borrowing is to be

done under the existing circumstances. When a Chancellor of the Exchequer confesses that he cannot borrow

on advantageous terms, the terms within his reach must be very bad indeed. This position is indeed a sad one,

and at any rate justifies me in stating that the immediate want of funds is severely felt.

But the very arguments which have been used to prove that the country will be ultimately crushed by the

debt, are those which I should use to prove that it will not be crushed. A comparison has more than once been

made between the manner in which our debt was made and that in which the debt of the United States is now

being created; and the great point raised in our favor is, that while we were borrowing money we were also

taxing ourselves, and that we raised as much by taxes as we did by loans. But it is too early in the day to deny

to the Americans the credit which we thus take to ourselves. We were a taxpaying nation when we

commenced those wars which made our great loans necessary, and only went on in that practice which was

habitual to us. I do not think that the Americans could have taxed themselves with greater alacrity than they

have shown. Let us wait, at any rate, till they shall have had time for the operation, before we blame them for

not making it. It is then argued that we in England did not borrow nearly so fast as they have borrowed in the

States. That is true. But it must be remembered that the dimensions and proportions of wars now are infinitely

greater than they were when we began to borrow. Does any one imagine that we would not have borrowed

faster, if by faster borrowing we could have closed the war more speedily? Things go faster now than they

did then. Borrowing for the sake of a war may be a bad thing to do, as also it may be a good thing; but if it be

done at all, it should be so done as to bring the war to the end with what greatest dispatch may be possible.

The only fair comparison, as it seems to me, which can be drawn between the two countries with reference to

their debts, and the condition of each under its debt, should be made to depend on the amount of the debt and

probable ability of the country to bear that burden. The amount of the debt must be calculated by the interest

payable on it rather than by the figures representing the actual sum due. If we debit the United States

government with seven per cent. on all the money borrowed by them, and presume that amount to have

reached in July, 1863, the sum named by Mr. Spaulding, they will then have loaded themselves with an

annual charge of 16,800,000 pounds sterling. It will have been an immense achievement to have

accomplished in so short a time, but it will by no means equal the annual sum with which we are charged.

And, moreover, the comparison will have been made in a manner that is hardly fair to the Americans. We pay

our creditors three per cent. now that we have arranged our affairs, and have settled down into the respectable

position of an old gentleman whose estates, though deeply mortgaged, are not over mortgaged. But we did

not get our money at three per cent. while our wars were on hand and there yet existed some doubt as to the

This attempt, however, at guessing what may be the probable amount of the debt at the close of the war is

absolutely futile. No one can as yet conjecture when the war may be over, or what collateral expenses may

attend its close. It may be the case that the government, in fixing some boundary between the future United

States and the future Southern Confederacy, will be called on to advance a very large sum of money as

compensation for slaves who shall have been liberated in the border States, or have been swept down South

into the cotton regions with the retreating hordes of the Southern army. The total of the bill cannot be

reckoned up while the work is still unfinished. But, after all, that question as to the amount of the bill is not to

us the question of the greatest interest. Whether the debt shall amount to two, or three, or even to four

hundred millions sterling; whether it remain fixed at its present modest dimensions, or swell itself out to the

magnificent proportions of our British debt; will the resources of the country enable it to bear such a burden?

Will it be found that the Americans share with us that elastic power of endurance which has enabled us to

bear a weight that would have ruined any other people of the same number? Have they the thews and

muscles, the energy and endurance, the power of carrying which we possess? They have got our blood in

their veins, and have these qualities gone with the blood? It is of little avail either to us or to the truth that we

can show some difference between our position and their position which may seem to be in our favor. They

doubtless could show other points of difference on the other side. With us, in the early years of this century, it

was a contest for life and death, in which we could not stop to count the costin which we believed that we

were fighting for all that we cared to call our own, and in which we were resolved that we would not be

beaten as long as we had a man to fight and a guinea to spend. Fighting in this mind we won. Had we fought

in any other mind I think I may say that we should not have won. To the Americans of the Northern States

this also is a contest for life and death. I will not here stay to argue whether this need have been so. I think

they are right; but this at least must be accorded to themthat, having gone into this matter of civil war, it

behoves them to finish it with credit to themselves. There are many Englishmen who think that we were

wrong to undertake the French war; but there is, I take it, no Englishman who thinks that we ought to have

allowed ourselves to be beaten when we had undertaken it. To the Americans it is now a contest of life and

death. They also cannot stop to count the cost, They also will go on as long as they have a dollar to spend or a

It appears that we were paying fourteen millions a year interest on our national debt in the year 1796. I take

this statement from an article in The Times, in which the question of the finances of the United States is

handled. But our population in 1796 was only sixteen millions. I estimate the population of the Northern

section of the United States, as the States will be after the war, at twentytwo millions. In the article alluded

to, these Northern Americans are now stated to be twenty millions. If then we, in 1796, could pay fourteen

millions a year with a population of sixteen millions, the United States, with a population of twenty or

twentytwo millions, will be able to pay the sixteen or seventeen millions sterling of interest which will

become due from them, if their circumstances of payment are as good as were ours. They can do that, and

more than that, if they have the same means per man as we had. And as the means per man resolves itself at

last into the labor per man, it may be said that they can pay what we could pay, if they can and will work as

hard as we could and did work. That which did not crush us will not crush them, if their future energy be

And on this question of energy I think that there is no need for doubt. Taking man for man and million for

million, the Americans are equal to the English in intellect and industry. They create wealth, at any rate, as

fast as we have done. They develop their resources, and open out the currents of trade, with an energy equal

to our own. They are always at workimproving, utilizing, and creating. Austria, as I take it, is succumbing

to monetary difficulties, not because she has been extravagant, but because she has been slow at progress;

because it has been the work of her rulers to repress rather than encourage the energies of her people; because

she does not improve, utilize, and create. England has mastered her monetary difficulties because the genius

of her government and her people has been exactly opposite to the genius of Austria. And the States of

America will master their money difficulties, because they are born of England, and are not born of Austria.

What! Shall our eldest child become bankrupt in its first trade difficulty; be utterly ruined by its first little

commercial embarrassment! The child bears much too strong a resemblance to its parent for me to think so.

Any Englishman or Frenchman residing in the American States cannot fail to be struck with the inferiority of

the postoffice arrangements in that country to those by which they are accommodated in their own country.

I have not been a resident in the country, and as a traveler might probably have passed the subject without

special remark, were it not that the service of the postoffice has been my own profession for many years. I

could therefore hardly fail to observe things which to another man would have been of no material moment.

At first I was inclined to lean heavily in my judgment upon the deficiencies of a department which must be of

primary importance to a commercial nation. It seemed that among a people so intelligent, and so quick in all

enterprises of trade, a wellarranged postoffice would have been held to be absolutely necessary, and that

all difficulties would have been made to succumb in their efforts to put that establishment, if no other, upon a

proper footing. But as I looked into the matter, and in becoming acquainted with the circumstances of the

postoffice learned the extent of the difficulties absolutely existing, I began to think that a very great deal had

been done, and that the fault, as to that which had been left undone, rested not with the postoffice officials,

but was attributable partly to political causes altogether outside the postoffice, and partlyperhaps

It is I think undoubtedly true that the amount of accommodation given by the postoffice of the States is

small, as compared with that afforded in some other countries, and that that accommodation is lessened by

delays and uncertainty. The point which first struck me was the inconvenient hours at which mails were

brought in and dispatched. Here in England it is the object of our postoffice to carry the bulk of our letters at

night; to deliver them as early as possible in the morning, and to collect them and take them away for

dispatch as late as may be in the day; so that the merchant may receive his letters before the beginning of his

day business, and dispatch them after its close. The bulk of our letters is handled in this manner, and the

advantage of such an arrangement is manifest. But it seemed that in the States no such practice prevailed.

Letters arrived at any hour in the day miscellaneously, and were dispatched at any hour, and I found that the

postmaster at one town could never tell me with certainty when letters would arrive at another. If the towns

were distant, I would be told that the conveyance might take about two or three days; if they were near, that

my letter would get to hand "some time tomorrow." I ascertained, moreover, by painful experience that the

whole of a mail would not always go forward by the first dispatch. As regarded myself this had reference

chiefly to English letters and newspapers. "Only a part of the mail has come," the clerk would tell me. With

us the owners of that part which did not "come," would consider themselves greatly aggrieved and make loud

complaint. But in the States complaints made against official departments are held to be of little moment.

Letters also in the States are subject to great delays by irregularities on railways. One train does not hit the

town of its destination before another train, to which it is nominally fitted, has been started on its journey.

The mail trains are not bound to wait; and thus, in the large cities, far distant from New York, great

irregularity prevails. It is I think owing to thisat any rate partly to thisthat the system of telegraphing has

become so prevalent. It is natural that this should be so between towns which are in the due course of post

perhaps fortyeight hours asunder; but the uncertainty of the post increases the habit, to the profit of course

of the companies which own the wires, but to the manifest loss of the postoffice.

But the deficiency which struck me most forcibly in the American postoffice, was the absence of any

recognized official delivery of letters. The United States postoffice does not assume to itself the duty of

taking letters to the houses of those for whom they are intended, but holds itself as having completed the

work for which the original postage has been paid, when it has brought them to the window of the postoffice

of the town to which they are addressed. It is true that in most large townsthough by no means in alla

separate arrangement is made by which a delivery is afforded to those who are willing to pay a further sum

for that further service; but the recognized official mode of delivery is from the office window. The

merchants and persons in trade have boxes at the windows, for which they pay. Other oldestablished

inhabitants in town, and persons in receipt of a considerable correspondence, receive their letters by the

subsidiary carriers and pay for them separately. But the poorer classes of the community, those persons

among which it is of such paramount importance to increase the blessing of letter writing, obtain their letters

In each of these cases the practice acts to the prejudice of the department. In order to escape the tax on

delivery, which varies from two cents to one cent a letter, all men in trade, and many who are not in trade,

hold office boxes; consequently immense space is required. The space given at Chicago, both to the public

without and to the official within, for such delivery, is more than four times that required at Liverpool for the

same purpose. But Liverpool is three times the size of Chicago. The corps of clerks required for the window

delivery is very great, and the whole affair is cumbrous in the extreme. The letters at most offices are given

out through little windows, to which the inquirer is obliged to stoop. There he finds himself opposite to a

pane of glass with a little hole, and when the clerk within shakes his head at him, he rarely believes but what

his letters are there if he could only reach them. But in the second case, the tax on the delivery, which is

intended simply to pay the wages of the men who take them out, is paid with a bad grace; it robs the letter of

its charm, and forces it to present itself in the guise of a burden: it makes that disagreeable which for its own

sake the postoffice should strive in every way to make agreeable. This practice, moreover, operates as a

direct prevention to a class of correspondence which furnishes in England a large proportion of the revenue of

the postoffice. Mercantile houses in our large cities send out thousands of trade circulars, paying postage on

them; but such circulars would not be received, either in England or elsewhere, if a demand for postage were

made on their delivery. Who does not receive these circulars in our country by the dozen, consigning them

generally to the waste paper basket, after a most cursory inspection? As regards the sender, the transaction

seems to us often to be very vain; but the postoffice gets its penny. So also would the American postoffice

But the main objection in my eyes to the American postoffice system is this, that it is not brought nearer to

the poorer classes. Everybody writes or can write in America, and therefore the correspondence of their

millions should be, million for million, at any rate equal to ours. But it is not so; and this I think comes from

the fact that communication by postoffice is not made easy to the people generally. Such communication is

not found to be easy by a man who has to attend at a postoffice window on the chance of receiving a letter.

When no arrangement more comfortable than that is provided, the postoffice will be used for the necessities

of letter writing, but will not be esteemed as a luxury. And thus not only do the people lose a comfort which

they might enjoy, but the postoffice also loses that revenue which it might make.

I have said that the correspondence circulating in the United States is less than that of the United Kingdom. In

making any comparison between them, I am obliged to arrive at facts, or rather at the probabilities of facts, in

a somewhat circuitous mode, as the Americans have kept no account of the number of letters which pass

through their postoffices in a year; we can, however, make an estimate, which, if incorrect, shall not at any

rate be incorrect against them. The gross postal revenue of the United States for the year ended June 30th,

1861, was in round figures 1,700,000l. This was the amount actually cashed, exclusive of a sum of 140,000l.

paid to the postoffice by the government for the carriage of what is called in that country free mail matter;

otherwise, books, letters, and parcels franked by members of Congress. The gross postal revenue of the

United Kingdom was in the last year, in round figures, 3,358,000l., exclusive of a sum of 179,000l. claimed

as earned for carrying official postage, and also exclusive of 127,866l., that being the amount of money order

commissions, which in this country is considered a part of the postoffice revenue. In the United States there

is at present no money order office. In the United Kingdom the sum of 3,358,000l. was earned by the

conveyance and delivery of 593,000,000 of letters, 73,000,000 of newspapers, 12,000,000 of books. What

number of each was conveyed through the post in the United States we have no means of knowing; but

presuming the average rate of postage on each letter in the States to be the same as it is in England, and

presuming also that letters, newspapers, and books circulated in the same proportion there as they do with us,

the sum above named of 1,700,000l. will have been earned by carrying about 300,000,000 of letters. But the

average rate of postage in the States is in fact higher than it is in England. The ordinary single rate of postage

there is three cents, or three halfpence, whereas with us it is a penny; and if three halfpence might be taken

as the average rate in the United States, the number of letters would be reduced from 300,000,000 to

200,000,000 a year. There is, however, a class of letters which in the States are passed through the

postoffice at the rate of one halfpenny a letter, whereas there is no rate of postage with us less than a

penny. Taking these halfpenny letters into consideration, I am disposed to regard the average rate of

American postage at about five farthings, which would give the number of letters at 250,000,000. We shall at

any rate be safe in saying that the number is considerably less than 300,000,000, and that it does not amount

to half the number circulated with us. But the difference between our population and their population is not

great. The population of the States during the year in question was about 27,000,000, exclusive of slaves, and

that of the British Isles was about 29,000,000. No doubt in the year named the correspondence of the States

had been somewhat disturbed by the rebellion; but that disturbance, up to the end of June, 1861, had been

very trifling. The division of the Southern from the Northern States, as far as the postoffice was concerned,

did not take place till the end of May, l861; and therefore but one month in the year was affected by the actual

secession of the South. The gross postal revenue of the States which have seceded was, for the year prior to

secession, 1,200,500 dollars, and for that one month of June it would therefore have been a little over 100,000

dollars, or 20,000l. That sum may therefore be presumed to have been abstracted by secession from the gross

annual revenue of the postoffice. Trade, also, was no doubt injured by the disturbance in the country, and

the circulation of letters was, as a matter of course, to some degree affected by this injury; but it seems that

the gross revenue of 1861 was less than that of 1860 by only one thirtysixth. I think, therefore, that we may

say, making all allowance that can be fairly made, that the number of letters circulating in the United

Kingdom is more than double that which circulates, or ever has circulated, in the United States.

That this is so, I attribute not to any difference in the people of the two countries, not to an aptitude for letter

writing among us which is wanting with the Americans, but to the greater convenience and wider

accommodation of our own postoffice. As I have before stated, and will presently endeavor to show, this

wider accommodation is not altogether the result of better management on our part. Our circumstances as

regards the postoffice have had in them less of difficulties than theirs. But it has arisen in great part from

better management; and in nothing is their deficiency so conspicuous as in the absence of a free delivery for

In order that the advantages of the postoffice should reach all persons, the delivery of letters should extend

not only to towns, but to the country also. In France all letters are delivered free. However remote may be the

position of a house or cottage, it is not too remote for the postman. With us all letters are not delivered, but

the exceptions refer to distant solitary houses and to localities which are almost without correspondence. But

in the United States there is no free delivery, and there is no delivery at all except in the large cities. In small

towns, in villages, even in the suburbs of the largest cities, no such accommodation is given. Whatever may

be the distance, people expecting letters must send for them to the postoffice; and they who do not expect

them, leave their letters uncalled for. Brother Jonathan goes out to fish in these especial waters with a very

large net. The little fish which are profitable slip through; but the big fish, which are by no means profitable,

There are other smaller sins upon which I could put my fingerand would do so were I writing an official

report upon the subject of the American postoffice. In lieu of doing so, I will endeavor to explain how much

the States office has done in this matter of affording postoffice accommodation, and how great have been

In the first place, when we compare ourselves to them we must remember that we live in a teacup, and they

in a washingtub. As compared with them we inhabit towns which are close to each other. Our distances, as

compared with theirs, are nothing. From London to Liverpool the line of railway I believe traverses about two

hundred miles, but the mail train which conveys the bags for Liverpool carries the correspondence of

probably four or five millions of persons. The mail train from New York to Buffalo passes over about four

hundred miles, and on its route leaves not one million. A comparison of this kind might be made with the

same effect between any of our great internal mail routes and any of theirs. Consequently the expense of

conveyance to them is, per letter, very much greater than with us, and the American postoffice is, as a

matter of necessity, driven to an economy in the use of railways for the postoffice service which we are not

called on to practice. From New York to Chicago is nearly 1000 miles. From New York to St. Louis is over

1400. From New York to New Orleans is 1600 miles. I need not say that in England we know nothing of

such distances, and that therefore our task has been comparatively easy. Nevertheless the States have

followed in our track, and have taken advantage of Sir Rowland's Hill's wise audacity in the reduction of

postage with greater quickness than any other nation but our own. Through all the States letters pass for three

cents over a distance less than 3000 miles. For distances above 3000 miles the rate is ten cents, or five pence.

This increased rate has special reference to the mails for California, which are carried daily across the whole

continent at a cost to the States government of two hundred thousand pounds a year.

With us the chief mail trains are legally under the management of the PostmasterGeneral. He fixes the hours

at which they shall start and arrive, being of course bound by certain stipulations as to pace. He can demand

trains to run over any line at any hour, and can in this way secure the punctuality of mail transportation. Of

course such interference on the part of a government official in the working of a railway is attended with a

very heavy expense to the government. Though the British postoffice can demand the use of trains at any

hour, and as regards those trains can make the dispatch of mails paramount to all other matters, the British

post office cannot fix the price to be paid for such work. This is generally done by arbitration, and of course

for such services the payment is very high. No such practice prevails in the States. The government has no

power of using the mail lines as they are used by our postoffice, nor could the expense of such a practice be

borne or nearly borne by the proceeds of letters in the States. Consequently the postoffice is put on a par

with ordinary customers, and such trains are used for mail matter as the directors of each line may see fit to

use for other matter. Hence it occurs that no offense against the postoffice is committed when the

connection between different mail trains is broken. The postoffice takes the best it can get, paying as other

customers pay, and grumbling as other customers grumble when the service rendered falls short of that which

It may, I think, easily be seen that any system, such as ours, carried across so large a country, would go on

increasing in cost at an enormous ratio. The greater is the distance, the greater is the difficulty in securing the

proper fitting of fastrunning trains. And moreover, it must be remembered that the American lines have

been got up on a very different footing from ours, at an expense per mile of probably less than a fifth of that

laid out on our railways. Single lines of rail are common, even between great towns with large traffic. At the

present moment, February, 1862, the only railway running into Washington, that namely from Baltimore, is a

single line over the greater distance. The whole thing is necessarily worked at a cheaper rate than with us; not

because the people are poorer, but because the distances are greater. As this is the case throughout the whole

railway system of the country, it cannot be expected that such dispatch and punctuality should be achieved in

America as are achieved here in England, or in France. As population and wealth increase it will come. In the

mean time that which has been already done over the extent of the vast North American continent is very

wonderful. I think, therefore, that complaint should not be made against the Washington postoffice, either

on account of the inconvenience of the hours or on the head of occasional irregularity. So much has been

done in reducing the rate to three cents, and in giving a daily mail throughout the States, that the department

In the year ended June 30, 1861, the gross revenue of the post office of the States was, as I have stated,

1,700,000l. In the same year its expenditure was in round figures 2,720,000l.; consequently there was an

actual loss, to be made up out of general taxation, amounting to 1,020,000l. In the accounts of the American

officers this is lessened by 140,000l. That sum having been arbitrarily fixed by the government as the amount

earned by the postoffice in carrying free mail matter. We have a similar system in computing the value of

the service rendered by our postoffice to the government in carrying government dispatches; but with us the

amount named as the compensation depends on the actual weight carried. If the matter so carried be carried

solely on the government service, as is, I believe, the case with us, any such claim on behalf of the

postoffice is apparently unnecessary. The Crown works for the Crown, as the right hand works for the left.

The postoffice pays no rates or taxes, contributes nothing to the poor, runs its mails on turnpike roads free

of toll, and gives receipts on unstamped paper. With us no payment is in truth made, though the postoffice

in its accounts presumes itself to have received the money; but in the States the sum named is handed over by

the State Treasury to the Postoffice Treasury. Any such statement of credit does not in effect alter the real

fact that over a million sterling is required as a subsidy by the American postoffice, in order that it may be

enabled to pay its way. In estimating the expenditure of the office the department at Washington debits itself

with the sums paid for the ocean transit of its mails, amounting to something over one hundred and fifty

thousand pounds. We also now do the same, with the much greater sum paid by us for such service, which

now amounts to 949,228l., or nearly a million sterling. Till lately this was not paid out of the postoffice

Our gross postoffice revenue is, as I have said, 3,358,250l. As before explained, this is exclusive of the

amount earned by the money order department, which, though managed by the authorities of the postoffice,

cannot be called a part of the postoffice; and exclusive also of the official postage, which is, in fact, never

received. The expenditure of our British postoffice, inclusive of the sum paid for the ocean mail service, is

3,064,527l.; we therefore make a net profit of 293,723l. out of the postoffice, as compared with a loss of

But perhaps the greatest difficulty with which the American post office is burdened is that "free mail

matter" to which I have alluded, for carrying which the postoffice claims to earn 140,000l., and for the

carriage of which it might as fairly claim to earn 1,350,000l., or half the amount of its total expenditure, for I

was informed by a gentleman whose knowledge on the subject could not be doubted, that the free mail matter

so carried equaled in bulk and weight all that other matter which was not carried free. To such an extent has

the privilege of franking been carried in the States! All members of both Houses frank what they pleasefor

in effect the privilege is stretched to that extent. All Presidents of the Union, past and present, can frank, as

also, all VicePresidents, past and present; and there is a special act, enabling the widow of President Polk to

frank. Why it is that widows of other Presidents do not agitate on the matter, I cannot understand. And all the

Secretaries of State can frank; and ever so many other public officers. There is no limit in number to the

letters so franked, and the nuisance has extended itself to so huge a size that members of Congress, in giving

franks, cannot write the franks themselves. It is illegal for them to depute to others the privilege of signing

their names for this purpose, but it is known at the postoffice that it is done. But even this is not the worst of

it. Members of the House of Representatives have the power of sending through the post all those huge books

which, with them as with us, grow out of parliamentary debates and workings of committees. This, under

certain stipulations, is the case also in England; but in England, luckily, no one values them. In America,

however, it is not so. A voter considers himself to be noticed if he gets a book; he likes to have the book

bound, and the bigger the book may be, the more the compliment is relished. Hence it comes to pass that an

enormous quantity of useless matter is printed and bound, only that it may be sent down to constituents and

make a show on the parlor shelves of constituents' wives. The postoffice groans and becomes insolvent and

the country pays for the paper, the printing, and the binding. While the public expenses of this nation were

very small, there was, perhaps, no reason why voters should not thus be indulged; but now the matter is

different, and it would be well that the conveyance by post of these congressional libraries should be brought

to an end. I was also assured that members very frequently obtain permission for the printing of a speech

which has never been deliveredand which never will be deliveredin order that copies may be circulated

among their constituents. There is in such an arrangement an ingenuity which is peculiarly American in its

nature. Everybody concerned is no doubt cheated by the system. The constituents are cheated; the public,

which pays, is cheated; and the postoffice is cheated. But the House is spared the hearing of the speech, and

We also, within the memory of many of us, had a franking privilege, which was peculiarly objectionable,

inasmuch as it operated toward giving a free transmission of their letters by post to the rich, while no such

privilege was within reach of the poor. But with us it never stretched itself to such an extent as it has now

achieved in the States. The number of letters for members was limited. The whole address was written by the

franking member himself, and not much was sent in this way that was bulky. I am disposed to think that all

government and congressional jobs in the States bear the same proportion to government and parliamentary

jobs which have been in vogue among us. There has been an unblushing audacity in the public

dishonestywhat I may perhaps call the State dishonestyat Washington, which I think was hardly ever

equaled in London. Bribery, I know, was disgracefully current in the days of Walpole, of Newcastle, and

even of Castlereagh; so current, that no Englishman has a right to hold up his own past government as a

model of purity; but the corruption with us did blush and endeavor to hide itself. It was disgraceful to be

bribed, if not so to offer bribes. But at Washington corruption has been so common that I can hardly

understand how any honest man can have held up his head in the vicinity of the Capitol or of the State office.

But the country has, I think, become tired of this. Hitherto it has been too busy about its more important

concerns, in extending commerce, in making railways, in providing education for its youth, to think very

much of what was being done at Washington. While the taxes were light, and property was secure, while

increasing population gave daily increasing strength to the nation, the people as a body were content with that

theory of being governed by their little men. They gave a bad name to politicians, and allowed politics, as

they say, to "slide." But all this will be altered now. The tremendous expenditure of the last twelve months

has allowed dishonesty of so vast a grasp to make its ravages in the public pockets that the evil will work its

own cure. Taxes will be very high, and the people will recognize the necessity of having honest men to look

after them. The nation can no longer afford to be indifferent about its government, and will require to know

where its money goes, and why it goes. This franking privilege is already doomed, if not already dead. When

I was in Washington, a bill was passed through the Lower House by which it would be abolished altogether.

When I left America, its fate in the Senate was still doubtful, and I was told by many that that bill would not

be allowed to become law without sundry alterations. But, nevertheless, I regard the franking privilege as

doomed, and offer to the Washington postoffice officials my best congratulations on their coming

The postoffice in the States is also burdened by another terrible political evil, which in itself is so heavy that

one would at first sight declare it to be enough to prevent anything like efficiency. The whole of its staff is

removable every fourth yearthat is to say, on the election of every new President; and a very large

proportion of its staff is thus removed periodically to make way for those for whom a new President is bound

to provide, by reason of their services in sending him to the White House. They have served him, and he thus

repays them by this use of his patronage in their favor. At four hundred and thirtyfour postoffices in the

States those being the offices to which the highest salaries are attached the President has this power, and

exercises it as a matter of course. He has the same power with reference, I believe, to all the appointments

held in the postoffice at Washington. This practice applies by no means to the postoffice only. All the

government clerksclerks employed by the central government at Washingtonare subject to the same

rule. And the rule has also been adopted in the various States with reference to State offices.

To a stranger this practice seems so manifestly absurd that he can hardly conceive it possible that a

government service should be conducted on such terms. He cannot, in the first place, believe that men of

sufficient standing before the world could be found to accept office under such circumstances; and is led to

surmise that men of insufficient standing must be employed, and that there are other allurements to the office

beyond the very moderate salaries which are allowed. He cannot, moreover, understand how the duties can be

conducted, seeing that men must be called on to resign their places as soon as they have learned to make

themselves useful. And, finally, he is lost in amazement as he contemplates this barefaced prostitution of the

public employ to the vilest purposes of political manoeuvring. With us also patronage has been used for

political purposes, and to some small extent is still so used. We have not yet sufficiently recognized the fact

that in selecting a public servant nothing should be regarded but the advantage of the service for which he is

to be employed. But we never, in the lowest times of our political corruption, ventured to throw over the

question of service altogether, and to declare publicly that the one and only result to be obtained by

government employment was political support. In the States, political corruption has become so much a

matter of course that no American seems to be struck with the fact that the whole system is a system of

From sheer necessity some of the old hands are kept on when these changes are made. Were this not done,

the work would come absolutely to a dead lock. But as it is, it may be imagined how difficult it must be for

men to carry through any improvements in a great department, when they have entered an office under such a

system, and are liable to be expelled under the same. It is greatly to the praise of those who have been

allowed to grow old in the service that so much has been done. No men, however, are more apt at such work

than Americans, or more able to exert themselves at their posts. They are not idle. Independently of any

question of remuneration, they are not indifferent to the wellbeing of the work they have in hand. They are

While speaking on the subject of patronage, I cannot but allude to two appointments which had been made by

political interest, and with the circumstances of which I became acquainted. In both instances a good place

had been given to a gentleman by the incoming President not in return for political support, but from

motives of private friendshipeither his own friendship or that of some mutual friend. In both instances I

heard the selection spoken of with the warmest praise, as though a noble act had been done in the selection of

a private friend instead of a political partisan. And yet in each case a man was appointed who knew nothing

of his work; who, from age and circumstances, was not likely to become acquainted with his work; who, by

his appointment, kept out of the place those who did understand the work, and had earned a right to

promotion by so understanding it. Two worthy gentlemenfor they were both worthy were pensioned on

the government for a term of years under a false pretense. That this should have been done is not perhaps

remarkable; but it did seem remarkable to me that everybody regarded such appointments as a good deedas

a deed so exceptionably good as to be worthy of great praise. I do not allude to these selections on account of

the political view shown by the Presidents in making them, but on account of the political virtue; in order that

the nature of political virtue in the States may be understood. It had never occurred to any one to whom I

spoke on the subject, that a President in the bestowing of such places was bound to look for efficient work in

Before I end this chapter I must insert a few details respecting the postoffice of the States, which, though

they may not be specially interesting to the general reader, will give some idea of the extent of the

department. The total number of postoffices in the States on June 30th, 1861, was 28,586. With us the

number in England, Scotland, and Ireland, at the same period, was about 11,400. The population served may

be regarded as nearly the same. Our lowest salary is 3l. per annum. In the States the remuneration is often

much lower. It consist in a commission on the letters, and is sometimes less than ten shillings. The difficulty

of obtaining persons to hold these offices, and the amount of work which must thereby be thrown on what is

called the "appointment branch," may be judged by the fact that 9235 of these offices were filled up by new

nominations during the last year. When the patronage is of such a nature it is difficult to say which give most

trouble, the places which nobody wishes to have, or those which everybody wishes to have.

The total amount of postage on European letters, i.e. letters passing between the States and Europe, in the last

year, as to which accounts were kept between Washington and the European postoffices, was 275,000l. Of

this over 150,000l. was on letters for the United Kingdom; and 130,000l. was on letters carried by the Cunard

According to the accounts kept by the Washington office, the letters passing from the States to Europe and

from Europe to the States are very nearly equal in number, about 101 going to Europe for every 100 received

from Europe. But the number of newspapers sent from the States is more than double the number received in

On June 30th, 1861, mails were carried through the then loyal States of the Union over 140,400 miles daily.

Up to 31st May preceding, at which time the government mails were running all through the united States,

96,000 miles were covered in those States which had then virtually seceded, and which in the following

month were taken out from the postoffice accountsmaking a total of 236,400 miles daily. Of this mileage

something less than onethird is effected by railways, at an average cost of about six pence a mile. Our total

mileage per day is 151,000 miles, of which 43,823 are done by railway, at a cost of about seven pence

As far as I could learn, the servants of the postoffice are less liberally paid in the States than with us,

excepting as regards two classes. The first of these is that class which is paid by weekly wages, such as

lettercarriers and porters. Their remuneration is of course ruled by the rate of ordinary wages in the country;

and as ordinary wages are higher in the States than with us, such men are paid accordingly. The other class is

that of postmasters at second rate towns. They receive the same compensation as those at the largest

townsunless indeed there be other compensations than those written in the books at Washington. A

postmaster is paid a certain commission on letters, till it amounts to 400l. per annum: all above that going

back to the government. So also out of the fees paid for boxes at the window he receives any amount

forthcoming not exceeding 400l. a year; making in all a maximum of 800l. The postmaster of New York can

get no more; but any moderately large town will give as much, and in this way an amount of patronage is

But with all this the people have made their way, because they have been intelligent, industrious, and in

earnest. And as the people have made their way, so has the postoffice. The number of its offices, the

mileage it covers, its extraordinary cheapness, the rapidity with which it has been developed, are all proofs of

great things done; and it is by no means standing still even in these evil days of war. Improvements are even

now on foot, copied in a great measure from ourselves. Hitherto the American office has not taken upon itself

the task of returning to their writers undelivered and undeliverable letters. This it is now going to do. It is, as I

have said, shaking off from itself that terrible incubus, the franking privilege. And the expediency of

introducing a moneyorder office into the States, connected with the postoffice as it is with us, is even now

under consideration. Such an accommodation is much needed in the country; but I doubt whether the present

moment, looking at the fiscal state of the country, is well adapted for establishing it.

I was much struck by the great extravagance in small things manifested by the postoffice through the States,

and have reason to believe that the same remark would be equally true with regard to other public

establishments. They use needless forms without end making millions of entries which no one is ever

expected to regard. Their expenditure in stationery might I think be reduced by one half, and the labor might

be saved which is now wasted in the abuse of that useless stationery. Their mail bags are made in a costly

manner, and are often large beyond all proportion or necessity. I could greatly lengthen this list if I were

addressing myself solely to postoffice people; but as I am not doing so, I will close these semiofficial

remarks with an assurance to my colleagues in post office work on the other side of the water that I greatly

respect what they have done, and trust that before long they may have renewed opportunities for the

I find it impossible to resist the subject of inns. As I have gone on with my journey, I have gone on with my

book, and have spoken here and there of American hotels as I have encountered them. But in the States the

hotels are so large an institution, having so much closer and wider a bearing on social life than they do in any

other country, that I feel myself bound to treat them in a separate chapter as a great national arrangement in

themselves. They are quite as much thought of in the nation as the legislature, or judicature, or literature of

the country; and any falling off in them, or any improvement in the accommodation given, would strike the

community as forcibly as any change in the Constitution or alteration in the franchise.

Moreover, I consider myself as qualified to write a chapter on hotelsnot only on the hotels of America, but

on hotels generally. I have myself been much too frequently a sojourner at hotels. I think I know what a hotel

should be, and what it should not be; and am almost inclined to believe, in my pride, that I could myself fill

the position of a landlord with some chance of social success, though probably with none of satisfactory

Of all hotels known to me, I am inclined to think that the Swiss are the best. The things wanted at a hotel are,

I fancy, mainly as follows: a clean bedroom, with a good and clean bed, and with it also plenty of water.

Good food, well dressed and served at convenient hours, which hours should on occasions be allowed to

stretch themselves. Wines that shall be drinkable. Quick attendance. Bills that shall not be absolutely

extortionate, smiling faces, and an absence of foul smells. There are many who desire more than thiswho

expect exquisite cookery, choice wines, subservient domestics, distinguished consideration, and the strictest

economy; but they are uneducated travelers, who are going through the apprenticeship of their hotel lives;

who may probably never become free of the travelers' guild, or learn to distinguish that which they may fairly

Taking them as a whole, I think that the Swiss hotels are the best. They are perhaps a little close in the matter

of cold water, but even as to this they generally give way to pressure. The pressure, however, must not be

violent, but gentle rather, and well continued. Their bedrooms are excellent. Their cookery is good, and to

the outward senses is cleanly. The people are civil. The whole work of the house is carried on upon fixed

rules which tend to the comfort of the establishment. They are not cheap, and not always quite honest. But the

exorbitance or dishonesty of their charges rarely exceeds a certain reasonable scale, and hardly ever demands

The inns of the Tyrol are, I think, the cheapest I have known affording the traveler what he requires for

half the price, or less than half demanded in Switzerland. But the other half is taken out in stench and

nastiness. As tourists scatter themselves more profusely, the prices of the Tyrol will no doubt rise. Let us

hope that increased prices will bring with them besoms, scrubbing brushes, and other muchneeded articles

The inns of the north of Italy are very good; and, indeed, the Italian inns throughout, as far as I know them,

are much better than the name they bear. The Italians are a civil, kindly people, and do for you, at any rate,

the best they can. Perhaps the unwary traveler may be cheated. Ignorant of the language, he may be called on

to pay more than the man who speaks it and who can bargain in the Italian fashion as to price. It has often

been my lot, I doubt not, to be so cheated; but then I have been cheated with a grace that has been worth all

I have seldom thoroughly liked the inns of Germany which I have known. They are not clean, and water is

very scarce. Smiles, too, are generally wanting, and I have usually fancied myself to be regarded as a piece of

The dearest hotels I know are the Frenchand certainly not the best. In the provinces they are by no means

so cleanly as those of Italy. Their wines are generally abominable, and their cookery often disgusting. In Paris

grand dinners may no doubt be had, and luxuries of every descriptionexcept the luxury of comfort.

Cottonvelvet sofas and ormolu clocks stand in the place of convenient furniture; and logs of wood, at a

franc a log, fail to impart to you the heat which the freezing cold of a Paris winter demands. They used to

make good coffee in Paris, but even that is a thing of the past. I fancy that they import their brandy from

England and manufacture their own cigars. French wines you may get good at a Paris hotel; but you would

drink them as good and much cheaper if you bought them in London and took them with you.

The worst hotels I know are in the Havana. Of course I do not speak here of chance mountain huts, or small,

faroff roadside hostels, in which the traveler may find himself from time to time. All such are to be counted

apart, and must be judged on their merits by the circumstances which surround them. But with reference to

places of wide resort, nothing can beat the hotels of the Havana in filth, discomfort, habits of abomination,

and absence of everything which the traveler desires. All the world does not go to the Havana, and the subject

is not therefore one of general interest. But in speaking of hotels at large, so much I find myself bound to say.

In all the countries to which I have alluded the guests of the house are expected to sit down together at one

table. Conversation is at any rate possible; and there is the show, if not the reality, of society.

And now one word as to English inns. I do not think that we Englishmen have any great right to be proud of

them. The worst about them is that they deteriorate from year to year, instead of becoming better. We used to

hear much of the comfort of the old English wayside inn, but the old English wayside inn has gone. The

railway hotel has taken its place; and the railway hotel is too frequently gloomy, desolate, comfortless, and

almost suicidal. In England, too, since the old days are gone, there are wanting the landlord's bow and the

kindly smile of his stout wife. Who now knows the landlord of an inn, or cares to inquire whether or no there

be a landlady? The old welcome is wanting; and the cheery, warm air, which used to atone for the bad port

and tough beef, has passed awaywhile the port is still bad and the beef too often tough.

In England, and only in England as I believe, is maintained in hotel life the theory of solitary existence. The

sojourner at an English innunless he be a commercial traveler, and as such a member of a universal,

peripatetic tradesman's clublives alone. He has his breakfast alone, his dinner alone, his pint of wine alone,

and his cup of tea alone. It is not considered practicable that two strangers should sit at the same table or cut

from the same dish. Consequently his dinner is cooked for him separately, and the hotel keeper can hardly

afford to give him a good dinner. He has two modes of life from which to choose. He either lives in a public

roomcalled a coffeeroomand there occupies, during his comfortless meal, a separate small table, too

frequently removed from fire and light, though generally exposed to draughts, or else he indulges in the

luxury of a private sittingroom, and endeavors to find solace on an old horsehair sofa, at the cost of seven

shillings a day. His bedroom is not so arranged that he can use it as a sittingroom. Under either phase of

life he can rarely find himself comfortable, and therefore he lives as little at a hotel as the circumstances of

his business or of his pleasure will allow. I do not think that any of the requisites of a good inn are habitually

to be found in perfection at our Kings' Heads and White Horses, though the falling off is not so lamentably

distressing as it sometimes is in other countries. The bedrooms are dingy rather than dirty. Extra payment to

servants will generally produce a tub of cold water. The food is never good, but it is usually eatable, and you

may have it when you please. The wines are almost always bad, but the traveler can fall back upon beer. The

attendance is good, provided always that the payment for it is liberal. The cost is generally too high, and

unfortunately grows larger and larger from year to year. Smiling faces are out of the question unless specially

paid for; and as to that matter of foul smells, there is often room for improvement. An English inn to a

solitary traveler without employment is an embodiment of dreary desolation. The excuse to be made for this

The American inn differs from all those of which I have made mention, and is altogether an institution apart,

and a thing of itself. Hotels in America are very much larger and more numerous than in other countries.

They are to be found in all towns, and I may almost say in all villages. In England and on the Continent we

find them on the recognized routes of travel and in towns of commercial or social importance. On

unfrequented roads and in villages there is usually some small house of public entertainment in which the

unexpected traveler may obtain food and shelter, and in which the expected boon companions of the

neighborhood smoke their nightly pipes and drink their nightly tipple. But in the States of America the first

sign of an incipient settlement is a hotel five stories high, with an office, a bar, a cloak room, three

gentlemen's parlors, two ladies' parlors, and a ladies' entrance, and two hundred bedrooms.

These of course are all built with a view to profit, and it may be presumed that in each case the originators of

the speculation enter into some calculation as to their expected guests. Whence are to come the sleepers in

those two hundred bedrooms, and who is to pay for the gaudy sofas and numerous lounging chairs of the

ladies' parlors? In all other countries the expectation would extend itself simply to travelersto travelers or

to strangers sojourning in the land. But this is by no means the case as to these speculations in America.

When the new hotel rises up in the wilderness, it is presumed that people will come there with the express

object of inhabiting it. The hotel itself will create a population, as the railways do. With us railways run to the

towns; but in the States the towns run to the railways. It is the same thing with the hotels.

Housekeeping is not popular with young married people in America, and there are various reasons why this

should be so. Men there are not fixed in their employment as they are with us. If a young Benedict cannot get

along as a lawyer at Salem, perhaps he may thrive as a shoemaker at Thermopylae. Jefferson B. Johnson fails

in the lumber line at Eleutheria, but hearing of an opening for a Baptist preacher at Big Mud Creek moves

himself off with his wife and three children at a week's notice. Aminadab Wiggs takes an engagement as a

clerk at a steamboat office on the Pongowonga River, but he goes to his employment with an inward

conviction that six months will see him earning his bread elsewhere. Under such circumstances even a large

wardrobe is a nuisance, and a collection of furniture would be as appropriate as a drove of elephants. Then

again young men and women marry without any means already collected on which to commence their life.

They are content to look forward and to hope that such means will come. In so doing they are guilty of no

imprudence. It is the way of the country, and, if the man be useful for anything, employment will certainly

come to him. But he must live on the fruits of that employment, and can only pay his way from week to week

and from day to day. And as a third reason, I think I may allege that the mode of life found in these hotels is

liked by the people who frequent them. It is to their taste. They are happy, or at any rate contented, at these

hotels, and do not wish for household cares. As to the two first reasons which I have given, I can agree as to

the necessity of the case, and quite concur as to the expediency of marriage under such circumstances. But as

to that matter of taste, I cannot concur at all. Anything more forlorn than a young married woman at an

Such are the guests expected for those two hundred bedrooms. The chance travelers are but chance additions

to these, and are not generally the mainstay of the house. As a matter of course the accommodation for

travelers which these hotels afford increases and creates traveling. Men come because they know they will be

fed and bedded at a moderate cost, and in an easy way, suited to their tastes. With us, and throughout Europe,

inquiry is made before an unaccustomed journey is commenced, on that serious question of wayside food and

shelter. But in the States no such question is needed. A big hotel is a matter of course, and therefore men

travel. Everybody travels in the States. The railways and the hotels between them have so churned up the

people that an untraveled man or woman is a rare animal. We are apt to suppose that travelers make roads,

and that guests create hotels; but the cause and effect run exactly in the other way. I am almost disposed to

think that we should become cannibals if gentlemen's legs and ladies arms were hung up for sale in

After this fashion and with these intentions hotels are built. Size and an imposing exterior are the first

requisitions. Everything about them must be on a large scale. A commanding exterior, and a certain interior

dignity of demeanor, is more essential than comfort or civility. Whatever a hotel may be it must not be

"mean." In the American vernacular the word mean is very significant. A mean white in the South is a man

who owns no slaves. Men are often mean, but actions are seldom so called. A man feels mean when the

bluster is taken out of him. A mean hotel, conducted in a quiet unostentatious manner, in which the only

endeavor made had reference to the comfort of a few guests, would find no favor in the States. These hotels

are not called by the name of any sign, as with us in our provinces. There are no "Presidents' Heads" or

"General Scotts." Nor by the name of the landlord, or of some former landlord, as with us in London, and in

many cities of the Continent. Nor are they called from some country or city which may have been presumed

at some time to have had special patronage for the establishment. In the nomenclature of American hotels the

specialty of American hero worship is shown, as in the nomenclature of their children. Every inn is a house,

and these houses are generally named after some hero, little known probably in the world at large, but highly

They are always built on a plan which to a European seems to be most unnecessarily extravagant in space. It

is not unfrequently the case that the greater portion of the ground floor is occupied by rooms and halls which

make no return to the house whatever. The visitor enters a great hall by the front door, and almost invariably

finds it full of men who are idling about, sitting round on stationary seats, talking in a listless manner, and

getting through their time as though the place were a public loungingroom. And so it is. The chances are

that not half the crowd are guests at the hotel. I will now follow the visitor as he makes his way up to the

office. Every hotel has an office. To call this place the bar, as I have done too frequently, is a lamentable

error. The bar is held in a separate room appropriated solely to drinking. To the office, which is in fact a long

open bar, the guest walks up, and there inscribes his name in a book. This inscription was to me a moment of

misery which I could never go through with equanimity. As the name is written, and as the request for

accommodation is made, half a dozen loungers look over your name and listen to what you say. They listen

attentively, and spell your name carefully, but the great man behind the bar does not seem to listen or to heed

you; your destiny is never imparted to you on the instant. If your wife or any other woman be with youthe

word "lady" is made so absolutely distasteful in American hotels that I cannot bring myself to use it in

writing of themshe has been carried off to a lady's waiting room, and there remains in august wretchedness

till the great man at the bar shall have decided on her fate. I have never been quite able to fathom the mystery

of these delays. I think they must have originated in the necessity of waiting to see what might be the influx

of travelers at the moment, and then have become exaggerated and brought to their present normal state by

the gratified feeling of almost divine power with which for the time it invests that despotic arbiter. I have

found it always the same, though arriving with no crowd, by a conveyance of my own, when no other

expectant guests were following me. The great man has listened to my request in silence, with an

imperturbable face, and has usually continued his conversation with some loafing friend, who at the time is

probably scrutinizing my name in the book. I have often suffered in patience, but patience is not specially the

badge of my tribe, and I have sometimes spoken out rather freely. If I may presume to give advice to my

traveling countrymen how to act under such circumstances, I should recommend to them freedom of speech

rather than patience. The great man, when freely addressed, generally opens his eyes, and selects the key of

your room without further delay. I am inclined to think that the selection will not be made in any way to your

detriment by reason of that freedom of speech. The lady in the ballad who spoke out her own mind to Lord

Bateman, was sent to her home honorably in a coach and three. Had she held her tongue, we are justified in

I have been greatly annoyed by that want of speech. I have repeatedly asked for room, and received no

syllable in return. I have persisted in my request, and the clerk has nodded his head at me. Until a traveler is

known, these gentlemen are singularly sparing of speech, especially in the West. The same economy of words

runs down from the great man at the office all through the servants of the establishment. It arises, I believe,

entirely from that want of courtesy which democratic institutions create. The man whom you address has to

make a battle against the state of subservience presumed to be indicated by his position, and he does so by

declaring his indifference to the person on whose wants he is paid to attend. I have been honored on one or

two occasions by the subsequent intimacy of these great men at the hotel offices, and have then found them

That necessity of making your request for room before a public audience is not in itself agreeable, and

sometimes entails a conversation which might be more comfortably made in private. "What do you mean by a

dressingroom, and why do you want one?" Now that is a question which an Englishman feels awkward at

answering before five and twenty Americans, with open mouths and eager eyes; but it has to be answered.

When I left England, I was assured that I should not find any need for a separate sittingroom, seeing that

drawingrooms more or less sumptuous were prepared for the accommodation of "ladies." At first we

attempted to follow the advice given to us, but we broke down. A man and his wife traveling from town to

town, and making no sojourn on his way, may eat and sleep at a hotel without a private parlor. But an English

woman cannot live in comfort for a week, or even in comfort for a day, at any of these houses, without a

sittingroom for herself. The ladies' drawingroom is a desolate wilderness. The American women

themselves do not use it. It is generally empty, or occupied by some forlorn spinster, eliciting harsh sounds

The price at these hotels throughout the union is nearly always the same, viz., two and a half dollars a day, for

which a bedroom is given and as many meals as the guest can contrive to eat. This is the price for chance

guests. The cost to monthly boarders is, I believe, not more than the half of this. Ten shillings a day,

therefore, covers everything that is absolutely necessary, servants included; and this must be said in praise of

these innsthat the traveler can compute his expenses accurately, and can absolutely bring them within that

daily sum of ten shillings. This includes a great deal of eating, a great deal of attendance, the use of

readingroom and smokingroomwhich, however, always seem to be open to the public as well as to the

guestsand a bedroom, with accommodation which is at any rate as good as the average accommodation

of hotels in Europe. In the large Eastern towns baths are attached to many of the rooms. I always carry my

own, and have never failed in getting water. It must be acknowledged that the price is very cheap. It is so

cheap that I believe it affords, as a rule, no profit whatsoever. The profit is made upon extra charges, and they

are higher than in any other country that I have visited. They are so high that I consider traveling in America,

for an Englishman with his wife or family, to be more expensive than traveling in any part of Europe. First in

the list of extras comes that matter of the sittingroom, and by that for a man and his wife the whole first

expense is at once doubled. The ordinary charge is five dollars, or one pound a day! A guest intending to stay

for two or three weeks at a hotel, or perhaps for one week, may, by agreement, have this charge reduced. At

one inn I stayed a fortnight, and having made no such agreement, was charged the full sum. I felt myself

stirred up to complain, and did in that case remonstrate. I was asked how much I wished to have

returnedfor the bill had been paidand the sum I suggested was at once handed to me. But even with such

reduction, the price is very high, and at once makes the American hotel expensive. Wine also at these houses

is very costly, and very bad. The usual price is two dollars (or eight shillings) a bottle. The people of the

country rarely drink wine at dinner in the hotels. When they do so, they drink champagne; but their normal

drinking is done separately, at the bar, chiefly before dinner, and at a cheap rate. "A drink," let it be what it

may, invariably costs a dime, or five pence. But if you must have a glass of sherry with your dinner, it costs

two dollars; for sherry does not grow into pint bottles in the States. But the guest who remains for two days

can have his wine kept for him. Washing also is an expensive luxury. The price of this is invariable, being

always four pence for everything washed. A cambric handkerchief or muslin dress all come out at the same

price. For those who are cunning in the matter this may do very well; but for men and women whose cuffs

and collars are numerous it becomes expensive. The craft of those who are cunning is shown, I think, in little

internal washings, by which the cambric handkerchiefs are kept out of the list, while the muslin dresses are

placed upon it. I am led to this surmise by the energetic measures taken by the hotelkeepers to prevent such

domestic washings, and by the denunciations which in every hotel are pasted up in every room against the

practice. I could not at first understand why I was always warned against washing my own clothes in my own

bedroom, and told that no foreign laundress could on any account be admitted into the house. The

injunctions given on this head are almost frantic in their energy, and therefore I conceive that hotelkeepers

find themselves exposed to much suffering in the matter. At these hotels they wash with great rapidity,

Another very stringent order is placed before the face of all visitors at American hotels, desiring them on no

account to have valuable property in their rooms. I presume that there must have been some difficulty in this

matter in bygone years; for in every State a law has been passed declaring that hotelkeepers shall not be

held responsible for money or jewels stolen out of rooms in their houses, provided that they are furnished

with safes for keeping such money and give due caution to their guests on the subject. The due caution is

always given, but I have seldom myself taken any notice of it. I have always left my portmanteau open, and

have kept my money usually in a travelingdesk in my room; but I never to my knowledge lost anything. The

world, I think, gives itself credit for more thieves than it possesses. As to the female servants at American

inns, they are generally all that is disagreeable. They are uncivil, impudent, dirty, slowprovoking to a

I never yet made a single comfortable meal at an American hotel, or rose from my breakfast or dinner with

that feeling of satisfaction which should, I think, be felt at such moments in a civilized land in which cookery

prevails as an art. I have had enough, and have been healthy, and am thankful. But that thankfulness is

altogether a matter apart, and does not bear upon the question. If need be, I can eat food that is disagreeable

to my palate and make no complaint. But I hold it to be compatible with the principles of an advanced

Christianity to prefer food that is palatable. I never could get any of that kind at an American hotel. All

mealtimes at such houses were to me periods of disagreeable duty; and at this moment, as I write these lines

at the hotel in which I am still staying, I pine for an English leg of mutton. But I do not wish it to be supposed

that the fault of which I complainfor it is a grievous faultis incidental to America as a nation. I have

stayed in private houses, and have daily sat down to dinners quite as good as any my own kitchen could

afford me. Their dinner parties are generally well done, and as a people they are by no means indifferent to

the nature of their comestibles. It is of the hotels that I speak; and of them I again say that eating in them is a

disagreeable taska painful labor. It is as a schoolboy's lesson, or the six hours' confinement of a clerk at his

The mode of eating is as follows: Certain feeding hours are named, which generally include nearly all the

day. Breakfast from six till ten. Dinner from one till five. Tea from six till nine. Supper from nine till twelve.

When the guest presents himself at any of these hours, he is marshaled to a seat, and a bill is put into his hand

containing the names of all the eatables then offered for his choice. The list is incredibly and most

unnecessarily long. Then it is that you will see care written on the face of the American hotel liver, as he

studies the programme of the coming performance. With men this passes off unnoticed, but with young girls

the appearance of the thing is not attractive. The anxious study, the elaborate reading of the daily book, and

then the choice proclaimed with clear articulation: "Boiled mutton and caper sauce, roast duck, hashed

venison, mashed potatoes, poached eggs and spinach, stewed tomatoes. Yesand, waiter, some squash!"

There is no false delicacy in the voice by which this order is given, no desire for a gentle whisper. The dinner

is ordered with the firm determination of an American heroine; and in some five minutes' time all the little

How I did learn to hate those little dishes and their greasy contents! At a London eatinghouse things are

often not very nice, but your meat is put on a plate and comes before you in an edible shape. At these hotels it

is brought to you in horrid little oval dishes, and swims in grease; gravy is not an institution in American

hotels, but grease has taken its place. It is palpable, undisguised grease, floating in riversnot grease caused

by accidental bad cookery, but grease on purpose. A beefsteak is not a beefsteak unless a quarter of a

pound of butter be added to it. Those horrid little dishes! If one thinks of it, how could they have been made

to contain Christian food? Every article in that long list is liable to the call of any number of guests for four

hours. Under such circumstances how can food be made eatable? Your roast mutton is brought to you raw; if

you object to that, you are supplied with meat that has been four times brought before the public. At hotels on

the Continent of Europe different dinners are cooked at different hours; but here the same dinner is kept

always going. The house breakfast is maintained on a similar footing. Huge boilers of tea and coffee are

stewed down and kept hot. To me those meals were odious. It is of course open to any one to have separate

dinners and separate breakfasts in his own rooms; but by this little is gained and much is lost. He or she who

is so exclusive pays twice over for such mealsas they are charged as extras on the billand, after all,

receives the advantage of no exclusive cooking. Particles from the public dinners are brought to the private

But the most striking peculiarity of the American hotels is in their public rooms. Of the ladies' drawingroom

I have spoken. There are two, and sometimes three, in one hotel, and they are generally furnished at any rate

expensively. It seems to me that the space and the furniture are almost thrown away. At wateringplaces and

seaside summer hotels they are, I presume, used; but at ordinary hotels they are empty deserts. The intention

is good, for they are established with the view of giving to ladies at hotels the comforts of ordinary domestic

life; but they fail in their effect. Ladies will not make themselves happy in any room, or with ever so much

gilded furniture, unless some means of happiness are provided for them. Into these rooms no book is ever

brought, no needlework is introduced; from them no clatter of many tongues is ever heard. On a marble

table in the middle of the room always stands a large pitcher of iced water; and from this a cold, damp,

Below, on the ground floor, there is, in the first place, the huge entrance hall, at the back of which, behind a

bar, the great man of the place keeps the keys and holds his court. There are generally seats around it, in

which smokers sitor men not smoking but ruminating. Opening off from this are readingrooms,

smokingrooms, shavingrooms, drinkingrooms, parlors for gentlemen in which smoking is prohibited and

which are generally as desolate as ladies' sittingrooms above. In those other more congenial chambers is

always gathered together a crowd apparently belonging in no way to the hotel. It would seem that a great

portion of an American Inn is as open to the public as an Exchange or as the wayside of the street. In the

West, during the early months of this war, the traveler would always see many soldiers among the

crowdnot only officers, but privates. They sit in public seats, silent but apparently contented, sometimes

for an hour together. All Americans are given to gatherings such as these. It is the muchloved institution to

I do not like the mode of life which prevails in the American hotels. I have come across exceptions, and know

one or two that are very comfortablealways excepting that matter of eating and drinking. Taking them as a

whole, I do not like their mode of life; but I feel bound to add that the hotels of Canada, which are kept I

think always after the same fashion, are infinitely worse than those of the United States. I do not like the

American hotels; but I must say in their favor that they afford an immense amount of accommodation. The

traveler is rarely told that a hotel is full, so that traveling in America is without one of those great perils to

In speaking of the literature of any country we are, I think, too much inclined to regard the question as one

appertaining exclusively to the writers of booksnot acknowledging as we should do that the literary

character of a people will depend much more upon what it reads than upon what it writes. If we can suppose

any people to have an intimate acquaintance with the best literary efforts of other countries, we should hardly

be correct in saying that such a people had no literary history of their own because it had itself produced

nothing in literature. And, with reference to those countries which have been most fertile in the production of

good books, I doubt whether their literary histories should not have more to tell of those ages in which much

The United States have been by no means barren in the production of literature. The truth is so far from this

that their literary triumphs are perhaps those which of all their triumphs are the most honorable to them, and

which, considering their position as a young nation, are the most permanently satisfactory. But though they

have done much in writing, they have done much more in reading. As producers they are more than

respectable, but as consumers they are the most conspicuous people on the earth. It is impossible to speak of

the subject of literature in America without thinking of the readers rather than of the writers. In this matter

their position is different from that of any other great people, seeing that they share the advantages of our

language. An American will perhaps consider himself to be as little like an Englishman as he is like a

Frenchman. But he reads Shakspeare through the medium of his own vernacular, and has to undergo the

penance of a foreign tongue before he can understand Moliere. He separates himself from England in politics

and perhaps in affection; but he cannot separate himself from England in mental culture. It may be suggested

that an Englishman has the same advantages as regards America; and it is true that he is obtaining much of

such advantage. Irving, Prescott, and Longfellow are the same to England as though she herself had produced

them. But the balance of advantage must be greatly in favor of America. We gave her the work of four

And of this advantage the Americans have not been slow to avail themselves. As consumers of literature they

are certainly the most conspicuous people on the earth. Where an English publisher contents himself with

thousands of copies, an American publisher deals with ten thousand. The sale of a new book, which in

numbers would amount to a considerable success with us, would with them be a lamentable failure. This of

course is accounted for, as regards the author and the publisher, by the difference of price at which the book

is produced. One thousand in England will give perhaps as good a return as the ten thousand in America. But

as regards the readers there can be no such equalization: the thousand copies cannot spread themselves as do

the ten thousand. The one book at a guinea cannot multiply itself, let Mr. Mudie do what he will, as do the ten

books at a dollar. Ultimately there remain the ten books against the one; and if there be not the ten readers

against the one, there are five, or four, or three. Everybody in the States has books about his house. "And so

has everybody in England," will say my English reader, mindful of the libraries, or bookrooms, or

bookcrowded drawingrooms of his friends and acquaintances. But has my English reader who so replies

examined the libraries of many English cabmen, of ticket porters, of warehousemen, and of agricultural

laborers? I cannot take upon myself to say that I have done so with any close search in the States; but when it

has been in my power I have done so, and I have always found books in such houses as I have entered. The

amount or printed matter which is poured forth in streams from the printing presses of the great American

publishers is, however, a better proof of the truth of what I say than anything that I can have seen myself.

But of what class are the books that are so read? There are many who think that reading in itself is not good

unless the matter read is excellent. I do not myself quite agree with this, thinking that almost any reading is

better than none; but I will of course admit that good matter is better than bad matter. The bulk of the

literature consumed in the States is no doubt composed of novelsas it is also, nowadays, in this country.

Whether or no an unlimited supply of novels for young people is or is not advantageous, I will not here

pretend to say. The general opinion with ourselves, I take it, is that novels are bad reading if they be bad of

their kind. Novels that are not bad are nowadays accepted generally as indispensable to our households.

Whatever may be the weakness of the American literary taste in this respect, it is I think a weakness which

we share. There are more novel readers among them than with us, but only I think in the proportion that there

I have no hesitation in saying that works by English authors are more popular in the States than those written

by Americans; and, among English authors of the present day, readers by no means confine themselves to the

novelists. The English names of whom I heard most during my sojourn in the States were perhaps those of

Dickens, Tennyson, Buckle, Tom Hughes, Martin Tupper, and Thackeray. As the owners of all these names

are still living, I am not going to take upon myself the delicate task of criticising the American taste. I may

not perhaps coincide with them in every respect. But if I be right as to the names which I have given, such a

selection shows that they do get beyond novels. I have little doubt but that many more copies of Dickens's

novels have been sold, during the last three years, than of the works either of Tennyson or Buckle; but such

also has been the case in England. It will probably be admitted that one copy of the "Civilization" should be

held as being equal to five and twenty of "Nicholas Nickleby," and that a single "In Memoriam" may fairly

weigh down half a dozen "Pickwicks." Men and women after their day's work are not always up to the

"Civilization." As a rule, they are generally up to "Proverbial Philosophy," and this, perhaps, may have had

I would not have it supposed that American readers despise their own authors. The Americans are very proud

of having a literature of their own, and among the literary names which they honor, there are none more

honorable than those of Cooper and Irving. They like to know that their modern historians are acknowledged

as great authors, and as regards their own poets, will sometimes demand your admiration for strains with

which you hardly find yourself to be familiar. But English books are, I think, the better loved: even the

English books of the present day. And even beyond thiswith those who choose to indulge in the luxuries of

literaturebooks printed in England are more popular than those which are printed in their own country; and

yet the manner in which the American publishers put out their work is very good. The book sold there at a

dollar, or a dollar and a quarter, quite equals our ordinary five shilling volume. Nevertheless, English books

are preferred, almost as strongly as are French bonnets. Of books absolutely printed and produced in England,

the supply in the States is of course small. They must necessarily be costly, and as regards new books, are

always subjected to the rivalry of a cheaper American copy. But of the reprinted works of English authors the

supply is unlimited, and the sale very great. Almost everything is reprinted: certainly everything which can be

said to attain any home popularity. I do not know how far English authors may be aware of the fact; but it is

undoubtedly a fact that their influence as authors is greater on the other side of the Atlantic than on this one.

It is there that they have their most numerous school of pupils. It is there that they are recognized as teachers

by hundreds of thousands. It is of these thirty millions that they should think, at any rate in part, when they

discuss within their own hearts that question which all authors do discuss, whether that which they write shall

in itself be good or bad, be true or false. A writer in England may not, perhaps, think very much of this with

reference to some trifle of which his English publisher proposes to sell some seven or eight hundred copies.

But he begins to feel that he should have thought of it when he learns that twenty or thirty thousand copies of

the same have been scattered through the length and breadth of the United States. The English author should

feel that he writes for the widest circle of readers ever yet obtained by the literature of any country. He

provides not only for his own country and for the States, but for the readers who are rising by millions in the

British colonies. Canada is supplied chiefly from the presses of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, but she

is supplied with the works of the mother country. India, as I take it, gets all her books direct from London, as

do the West Indies. Whether or no the Australian colonies have as yet learned to reprint our books I have

never learned, but I presume that they cannot do so as cheaply as they can import them. London with us, and

the three cities which I have named on the other side of the Atlantic, are the places at which this literature is

manufactured; but the demand in the Western hemisphere is becoming more brisk than that which the Old

World creates. There are, I have no doubt, more books printed in London than in all America put together. A

greater extent of letterpress is put up in London than in the three publishing cities of the States; but the

number of copies issued by the American publishers is so much greater than those which ours put forth that

the greater bulk of literature is with them. If this be so, the demand with them is of course greater than it is

I have spoken here of the privilege which an English author enjoys by reason of the everwidening circle of

readers to whom he writes. I should have said the writers of English literature, seeing that the privilege is of

course shared by the American writer. I profess my belief that in the States an English author has an

advantage over one of that country merely in the fact of his being English, as a French milliner has

undoubtedly an advantage in her nationality, let her merits or demerits as a milliner be what they may. I think

that English books are better liked because they are English. But I do not know that there is any feeling with

us either for or against an author because he is American. I believe that Longfellow stands in our judgment

exactly where he would have stood had he been a tutor at a college in Oxford instead of a Professor at

Cambridge in Massachusetts. Prescott is read among us as a historian without any reference as to his

nationality, and by many, as I take it, in absolute ignorance of his nationality. Hawthorne, the novelist, is

quite as well known in England as he is in his own country. But I do not know that to either of these three is

awarded any favor or is denied any justice because he is an American. Washington Irving published many of

his works in this country, receiving very large sums for them from Mr. Murray, and I fancy that in dealing

with his publisher he found neither advantage nor disadvantage in his nationality; that is, of course, advantage

or disadvantage as respected the light in which his works would be regarded. It must be admitted that there is

no jealousy in the States against English authors. I think that there is a feeling in their favor, but no one can at

any rate allege that there is a feeling against them: I think I may also assert on the part of my own country

that there is no jealousy here against American authors. As regards the tastes of the people, the works of each

country flow freely through the other. That is as it should be. But when we come to the mode of supply,

things are not exactly as they should be; and I do not believe that any one will contradict me when I say that

I presume that all my readers know the meaning of the word copyright. A man's copyright is right in his

copy; is that amount of legal possession in the production of his brains which has been secured to him by the

law of his own country and of others. Unless an author were secured by such law, his writings would be of

but little pecuniary value to him, as the right of printing and selling them would be open to all the world. In

England and in America, and as I conceive in all countries possessing a literature, there is such a law,

securing to authors and to their heirs, for a term of years, the exclusive right over their own productions. That

this should be so in England, as regards English authors, appears to be so much a matter of course that the

investment in the three per cents. The right of an author to the value of his own productions in other countries

than his own is not so much a matter of course; but nevertheless, if such productions have any value in other

countries, that value should belong to him. This has been felt to be the case between England and France, and

an international copyright now exists. The fact that the languages of England and France are different, makes

the matter one of comparatively small moment. But it has been found to be for the honor and profit of the two

countries that there should be such a law, and an international copyright does exist. But if such an

arrangement be needed between two such countries as France and Englandbetween two countries which do

not speak the same language, or share the same literaturehow much more necessary must it be between

England and the United States! The literature of the one country is the literature of the other. The poem that is

popular in London will certainly be popular in New York. The novel that is effective among American ladies

will be equally so with those of England. There can be no doubt as to the importance of having or of not

having a law of copyright between the two countries. The only question can be as to the expediency and the

justice. At present there is no international copyright between England and the United States, and there is

none because the States have declined to sanction any such law. It is known by all who are concerned in the

matter on either side of the water that as far as Great Britain is concerned such a law would meet with no

Therefore it is to be presumed that the legislators of the States think it expedient and just to dispense with any

such law. I have said that there can be no doubt as to the importance of the question, seeing that the price of

English literature in the States must be most materially affected by it. Without such law the Americans are

enabled to import English literature without paying for it. It is open to any American publisher to reprint any

work from an English copy, and to sell his reprints without any permission obtained from the English author

or from the English publisher. The absolute material which the American publisher sells, he takes, or can

take, for nothing. The paper, ink, and composition he supplies in the ordinary way of business; but the very

matter which he professes to sellof the book which is the object of his tradehe is enabled to possess

himself of for nothing. If you, my reader, be a popular author, an American publisher will take the choicest

work of your brain, and make dollars out of it, selling thousands of copies of it in his country, whereas you

can perhaps only sell hundreds of it in your own; and will either give you nothing for that he takes, or else

will explain to you that he need give you nothing, and that in paying you he subjects himself to the danger of

seeing the property which he has bought taken again from him by other persons. If this be so, that question

whether or no there shall be a law of international copyright between the two countries cannot be

But it may be inexpedient that there shall be such a law. It may be considered well that, as the influx of

English books into America is much greater than the influx of American books back to England, the right of

obtaining such books for nothing should be reserved, although the country in doing so robs its own authors of

the advantage which should accrue to them from the English market. It might perhaps be thought anything

but smart to surrender such an advantage by the passing of an international copyright bill. There are not many

trades in which the tradesman can get the chief of his goods for nothing; and it may be thought that the

advantage arising to the States from such an arrangement of circumstances should not be abandoned. But how

then about the justice? It would seem that the less said upon that subject the better. I have heard no one say

that an author's property in his own works should not, in accordance with justice, be insured to him in the one

country as well as in the other. I have seen no defense of the present position of affairs, on the score of

justice. The price of books would be enhanced by an international copyright law, and it is well that books

should be cheap. That is the only argument used. So would mutton be cheap if it could be taken out of a

But I absolutely deny the expediency of the present position of the subject, looking simply to the material

advantage of the American people in the matter, and throwing aside altogether that question of justice. I must

here, however, explain that I bring no charge whatsoever against the American publishers. The English

author is a victim in their hands, but it is by no means their fault that he is so. As a rule, they are willing to

pay something for the works of popular English writers; but in arranging as to what payments they can make,

they must of course bear in mind the fact that they have no exclusive right whatsoever in the things which

they purchase. It is natural also that they should bear in mind, when making their purchases and arranging

their prices, that they can have the very thing they are buying without any payment at all, if the price asked do

not suit them. It is not of the publishers that I complain, or of any advantage which they take, but of the

legislators of the country, and of the advantage which accrues, or is thought by them to accrue, to the

American people from the absence of an international copyright law. It is mean on their part to take such

advantage if it existed; and it is foolish in them to suppose that any such advantage can accrue. The absence

of any law of copyright no doubt gives to the American publisher the power of reprinting the works of

English authors without paying for them, seeing that the English author is undefended. But the American

publisher who brings out such a reprint is equally undefended in his property; when he shall have produced

his book, his rival in the next street may immediately reprint it from him, and destroy the value of his

property by underselling him. It is probable that the first American publisher will have made some payment

to the English author for the privilege of publishing the book honestly, of publishing it without recurrence to

piracy; and in arranging his price with his customers he will be of course obliged to debit the book with the

amount so paid. If the author receive ten cents a copy on every copy sold, the publisher must add that ten

cents to the price he charges. But he cannot do this with security, because the book can be immediately

reprinted and sold without any such addition to the price. The only security which the American publisher has

against the injury which may be so done to him is the power of doing other injury in return. The men who

stand high in the trade, and who are powerful because of the largeness of their dealings, can, in a certain

measure, secure themselves in this way. Such a firm would have the power of crushing a small tradesman

who should interfere with him. But if the large firm commits any such act of injustice, the little men in the

trade have no power of setting themselves right by counterinjustice. I need hardly point out what must be

the effect of such a state of things upon the whole publishing trade; nor need I say more to prove that some

law which shall regulate property in foreign copyrights would be as expedient with reference to America as it

would be just toward England. But the wrong done by America to herself does not rest here. It is true that

more English books are read in the States than American books in England, but it is equally true that the

literature of America is daily gaining readers among us. That injury to which English authors are subjected

from the want of protection in the States, American authors suffer from the want of protection here. One can

hardly believe that the legislators of the States would willingly place the brightest of their own

fellowcountrymen in this position, because, in the event of a copyright bill being passed, the balance of

Of the literature of the United States, speaking of literature in its ordinary sense, I do not know that I need say

much more. I regard the literature of a country as its highest produce, believing it to be more powerful in its

general effect, and more beneficial in its results, than either statesmanship, professional ability, religious

teaching, or commerce. And in no part of its national career have the United States been so successful as in

this. I need hardly explain that I should commit a monstrous injustice were I to make a comparison in this

matter between England and America. Literature is the child of leisure and wealth. It is the produce of minds

which by a happy combination of circumstances have been enabled to dispense with the ordinary cares of the

world. It can hardly be expected to come from a young country, or from a new and still struggling people.

Looking around at our own magnificent colonies, I hardly remember a considerable name which they have

produced, except that of my excellent old friend Sam Slick. Nothing, therefore, I think, shows the settled

greatness of the people of the States more significantly than their firm establishment of a national literature.

This literature runs over all subjects: American authors have excelled in poetry, in science, in history, in

metaphysics, in law, in theology, and in fiction. They have attempted all, and failed in none. What

Englishman has devoted a room to books, and devoted no portion of that room to the productions of

But I must say a word of literature in which I shall not speak of it in its ordinary sense, and shall yet speak of

it in that sense which of all, perhaps, in the present day should be considered the most ordinary; I mean the

everyday periodical literature of the press. Most of those who can read, it is to be hoped, read books; but all

who can read do read newspapers. Newspapers in this country are so general that men cannot well live

without them; but to men and to women also in the United States they may be said to be the one chief

necessary of life; and yet in the whole length and breadth of the United States there is not published a single

A really good newspaperone excellent at all pointswould indeed be a triumph of honesty and of art. Not

only is such a publication much to be desired in America, but it is still to be desired in Great Britain also. I

used, in my younger days, to think of such a newspaper as a possible publication, and in a certain degree to

look for it; now I expect it only in my dreams. It should be powerful without tyranny, popular without

triumph, political without party passion, critical without personal feeling, right in its statements and just in its

judgments, but right and just without pride; it should be all but omniscient, but not conscious of its

omnipotence; it should be moral, but never straitlaced; it should be well assured but yet modest; though

never humble, it should be free from boastings. Above all these things it should be readable, and above that

again it should be true. I used to think that such a newspaper might be produced, but I now sadly

acknowledge to myself the fact that humanity is not capable of any work so divine.

The newspapers of the States generally may not only be said to have reached none of the virtues here named,

but to have fallen into all the opposite vices. In the first place, they are never true. In requiring truth from a

newspaper the public should not be anxious to strain at gnats. A statement setting forth that a certain

gooseberry was five inches in circumference, whereas in truth its girth was only two and a half, would give

me no offense. Nor would I be offended at being told that Lord Derby was appointed to the premiership,

while in truth the Queen had only sent to his lordship, having as yet come to no definite arrangement. The

demand for truth which may reasonably be made upon a newspaper amounts to this, that nothing should be

stated not believed to be true, and that nothing should be stated as to which the truth is important without

adequate ground for such belief. If a newspaper accuse me of swindling, it is not sufficient that the writer

believe me to be a swindler. He should have ample and sufficient ground for such belief, or else in making

such a statement he will write falsely. In our private life we all recognize the fact that this is so. It is

understood that a man is not a whit the less a slanderer because he believes the slander which he promulgates.

But it seems to me that this is not sufficiently recognized by many who write for the public press. Evil things

are said, and are probably believed by the writers; they are said with that special skill for which newspaper

writers have in our days become so conspicuous, defying alike redress by law or redress by argument; but

they are said too often falsely. The words are not measured when they are written, and they are allowed to go

forth without any sufficient inquiry into their truth. But if there is any ground for such complaint here in

England, that ground is multiplied ten timestwenty timesin the States. This is not only shown in the

abuse of individuals, in abuse which is as violent as it is perpetual, but in the treatment of every subject which

is handled. All idea of truth has been thrown overboard. It seems to be admitted that the only object is to

produce a sensation, and that it is admitted by both writer and reader that sensation and veracity are

incompatible. Falsehood has become so much a matter of course with American newspapers that it has almost

ceased to be falsehood. Nobody thinks me a liar because I deny that I am at home when I am in my study.

The nature of the arrangement is generally understood. So also is it with the American newspapers.

But American newspapers are also unreadable. It is very bad that they should be false, but it is very surprising

that they should be dull. Looking at the general intelligence of the people, one would have thought that a

readable newspaper, put out with all pleasant appurtenances of clear type, good paper, and good internal

arrangement, would have been a thing specially within their reach. But they have failed in every detail.

Though their papers are always loaded with sensation headings, there are seldom sensation paragraphs to

follow. The paragraphs do not fit the headings. Either they cannot be found, or if found, they seem to have

escaped from their proper column to some distant and remote portion of the sheet. One is led to presume that

no American editor has any plan in the composition of his newspaper. I never know whether I have as yet got

to the very heart's core of the daily journal, or whether I am still to go on searching for that heart's core. Alas!

it too often happens that there is no heart's core. The whole thing seems to have been put out at haphazard.

And then the very writing is in itself below mediocrity; as though a power of expression in properly arranged

language was not required by a newspaper editor, either as regards himself or as regards his subordinates.

One is driven to suppose that the writers for the daily press are not chosen with any view to such capability.

A man ambitious of being on the staff of an American newspaper should be capable of much work, should be

satisfied with small pay, should be indifferent to the world's good usage, should be rough, ready, and of long

sufferance; but, above all, he should be smart. The type of almost all American newspapers is wretchedI

think I may say of allso wretched that that alone forbids one to hope for pleasure in reading them. They are

ill written, ill printed, and ill arranged, and in fact are not readable. They are bought, glanced at, and thrown

They are full of boastings, not boastings simply as to their country, their town, or their party, but of boastings

as to themselves. And yet they possess no selfassurance. It is always evident that they neither trust

themselves, nor expect to be trusted. They have made no approach to that omniscience which constitutes the

great marvel of our own daily press; but finding it necessary to write as though they possessed it, they fall

into blunders which are almost as marvelous. Justice and right judgment are out of the question with them. A

political party end is always in view, and political party warfare in America admits of any weapons. No

newspaper in America is really powerful or popular; and yet they are tyrannical and overbearing. The New

York Herald has, I believe, the largest sale of any daily newspaper; but it is absolutely without political

power, and in these times of war has truckled to the government more basely than any other paper. It has an

enormous sale, but so far is it from having achieved popularity that no man on any side ever speaks a good

word for it. All American newspapers deal in politics as a matter of course; but their politics have ever regard

to men and not to measures. Vituperation is their natural political weapon; but since the President's ministers

have assumed the power of stopping newspapers which are offensive to them, they have shown that they can

I shall be accused of using very strong language against the newspaper press of America. I can only say that I

do not know how to make that language too strong. Of course there are newspapers as to which the editors

and writers may justly feel that my remarks, if applied to them, are unmerited. In writing on such a subject, I

can only deal with the whole as a whole. During my stay in the country, I did my best to make myself

acquainted with the nature of its newspapers, knowing in how great a degree its population depends on them

for its daily store of information; for newspapers in the States of America have a much wider, or rather closer

circulation, than they do with us. Every man and almost every woman sees a newspaper daily. They are very

cheap, and are brought to every man's hand, without trouble to himself, at every turn that he takes in his day's

work. It would be much for the advantage of the country that they should be good of their kind; but, if I am

In one of the earlier chapters of this volumenow some seven or eight chapters pastI brought myself on

my travels back to Boston. It was not that my way homeward lay by that route, seeing that my fate required

me to sail from New York; but I could not leave the country without revisiting my friends in Massachusetts. I

have told how I was there in the sleighing time, and how pleasant were the mingled slush and frost of the

snowy winter. In the morning the streets would be hard and crisp and the stranger would surely fall if he were

not prepared to walk on glaciers. In the afternoon he would be wading through rivers, and, if properly armed

at all points with Indiarubber, would enjoy the rivers as he waded. But the air would be always kindly, and

the east wind there, if it was east as I was told, had none of that power of dominion which makes us all so

submissive to its behests in London. For myself, I do not believe that the real east wind blows elsewhere.

And when the snow went in Boston I went with it. The evening before I left I watched them as they carted

away the dirty uncouth blocks which had been broken up with pickaxes in Washington Street, and was

melancholy as I reflected that I too should no longer be known in the streets. My weeks in Boston had not

been very many, but nevertheless there were haunts there which I knew as though my feet had trodden them

for years. There were houses to which I could have gone with my eyes blindfold; doors of which the latches

were familiar to my hands; faces which I knew so well that they had ceased to put on for me the fictitious

smiles of courtesy. Faces, houses, doors, and haunts,where are they now? For me they are as though they

had never been. They are among the things which one would fain remember as one remembers a dream. Look

back on it as a vision and it is all pleasant; but if you realize your vision and believe your dream to be a fact,

I know that I shall never again be at Boston, and that I have said that about the Americans which would make

me unwelcome as a guest if I were there. It is in this that my regret consists; for this reason that I would wish

to remember so many social hours as though they had been passed in sleep. They who will expect blessings

from me, will say among themselves that I have cursed them. As I read the pages which I have written, I feel

that words which I intended for blessings when I prepared to utter them have gone nigh to turn themselves

I have ever admired the United States as a nation. I have loved their liberty, their prowess, their intelligence,

and their progress. I have sympathized with a people who themselves have had no sympathy with passive

security and inaction. I have felt confidence in them, and have known, as it were, that their industry must

enable them to succeed as a people while their freedom would insure to them success as a nation. With these

convictions I went among them wishing to write of them good wordswords which might be pleasant for

them to read, while they might assist perhaps in producing a true impression of them here at home. But

among my good words there are so many which are bitter, that I fear I shall have failed in my object as

regards them. And it seems to me, as I read once more my own pages, that in saying evil things of my friends

I have used language stronger than I intended; whereas I have omitted to express myself with emphasis when

I have attempted to say good things. Why need I have told of the mud of Washington, or have exposed the

nakedness of Cairo? Why did I speak with such eager enmity of those poor women in the New York cars,

who never injured me, now that I think of it? Ladies of New York, as I write this, the words which were

written among you are printed and cannot be expunged; but I tender to you my apologies from my home in

England. And that Van Wyck Committeemight I not have left those contractors to be dealt with by their

own Congress, seeing that that Congress committee was by no means inclined to spare them? I might have

kept my pages free from gall, and have sent my sheets to the press unhurt by the conviction that I was hurting

those who had dealt kindly by me! But what then? Was any people ever truly served by eulogy; or an honest

O my friends with thin skinsand here I protest that a thick skin is a fault not to be forgiven in a man or a

nation, whereas a thin skin is in itself a merit, if only the wearer of it will be the master and not the slave of

his skinO my friends with thin skins, ye whom I call my cousins and love as brethren, will ye not forgive

me these harsh words that I have spoken? They have been spoken in lovewith a true love, a brotherly love,

a love that has never been absent from the heart while the brain was coining them. I had my task to do, and I

could not take the pleasant and ignore the painful. It may perhaps be that as a friend I had better not have

written either good or bad. But no! To say that would indeed be to speak calumny of your country. A man

may write of you truly, and yet write that which you would read with pleasure; only that your skins are so

thin. The streets of Washington are muddy and her ways are desolate. The nakedness of Cairo is very naked.

And those ladies of New Yorkis it not to be confessed that they are somewhat imperious in their demands?

As for the Van Wyck Committee, have I not repeated the tale which you have told yourselves? And is it not

And yet ye will not forgive me; because your skins are thin, and because the praise of others is the breath of

I do not know that an American as an individual is more thin skinned than an Englishman; but as the

representative of a nation it may almost be said of him that he has no skin at all. Any touch comes at once

upon the network of his nerves and puts in operation all his organs of feeling with the violence of a blow.

And for this peculiarity he has been made the mark of much ridicule. It shows itself in two ways: either by

extreme displeasure when anything is said disrespectful of his country, or by the strong eulogy with which he

is accustomed to speak of his own institutions and of those of his countrymen whom at the moment he may

chance to hold in high esteem. The manner in which this is done is often ridiculous. "Sir, what do you think

of Mr. Jefferson Brick? Mr. Jefferson Brick, sir, is one of our most remarkable men." And again: "Do you

like our institutions, sir? Do you find that philanthropy, religion, philosophy and the social virtues are

cultivated on a scale commensurate with the unequaled liberty and political advancement of the nation?"

There is something absurd in such a mode of address when it is repeated often. But hero worship and love of

country are not absurd; and do not these addresses show capacity for hero worship and an aptitude for the

love of country? Jefferson Brick may not be a hero; but a capacity for such worship is something. Indeed the

capacity is everything, for the need of a hero will produce a hero. And it is the same with that love of country.

A people that are proud of their country will see that there is something in their country to justify their pride.

Do we not all of us feel assured by the intense nationality of an American that he will not desert his nation in

the hour of her need? I feel that assurance respecting them; and at those moments in which I am moved to

I left Boston with the snow, and returning to New York found that the streets there were dry and that the

winter was nearly over. As I had passed through New York to Boston the streets had been by no means dry.

The snow had lain in small mountains over which the omnibuses made their way down Broadway, till at the

bottom of that thoroughfare, between Trinity Church and Bowling Green, alp became piled upon alp, and all

traffic was full of danger. The cursed love of gain still took men to Wall Street, but they had to fight their

way thither through physical difficulties which must have made even the state of the money market a matter

of indifference to them. They do not seem to me to manage the winter in New York so well as they do in

Boston. But now, on my last return thither, the alps were gone, the roads were clear, and one could travel

through the city with no other impediment than those of treading on women's dresses if one walked, or

having to look after women's bandboxes and pay their fares and take their change if one used the

And now had come the end of my adventure, and as I set my foot once more upon the deck of the Cunard

steamer, I felt that my work was done; whether it were done ill or well, or whether indeed any approach to the

doing of it had been attained, all had been done that I could accomplish. No further opportunity remained to

me of seeing, hearing, or of speaking. I had come out thither, having resolved to learn a little that I might if

possible teach that little to others; and now the lesson was learned, or must remain unlearned. But in carrying

out my resolution I had gradually risen in my ambition, and had mounted from one stage of inquiry to

another, till at last I had found myself burdened with the task of ascertaining whether or no the Americans

were doing their work as a nation well or ill; and now, if ever, I must be prepared to put forth the result of my

inquiry. As I walked up and down the deck of the steamboat I confess I felt that I had been somewhat

I had been a few days over six months in the States, and I was engaged in writing a book of such a nature that

a man might well engage himself for six years, or perhaps for sixty, in obtaining the materials for it. There

was nothing in the form of government, or legislature, or manners of the people as to which I had not taken

upon myself to say something. I was professing to understand their strength and their weakness; and was

daring to censure their faults and to eulogize their virtues. "Who is he," an American would say, "that he

comes and judges us? His judgment is nothing." "Who is he," an Englishman would say, "that he comes and

In answer to this I have but a small plea to makeI have done my best. I have nothing "extenuated, and have

set down naught in malice." I do feel that my volumes have blown themselves out into proportions greater

than I had intended; greater not in mass of pages, but in the matter handled. I am frequently addressing my

own muse, who I am well aware is not Clio, and asking her whither she is wending. "Cease, thou

wrongheaded one, to meddle with these mysteries." I appeal to her frequently, but ever in vain. One cannot

drive one's muse, nor yet always lead her. Of the various women with which a man is blessed, his muse is by

But again I put in my slight plea. In doing as I have done, I have at least done my best. I have endeavored to

judge without prejudice, and to hear with honest ears and to see with honest eyes. The subject, moreover, on

which I have written is one which, though great, is so universal in its bearings that it may be said to admit,

without impropriety, of being handled by the unlearned as well as the learned; by those who have grown gray

in the study of constitutional lore, and by those who have simply looked on at the government of men as we

all look on at those matters which daily surround us. There are matters as to which a man should never take a

pen in hand unless he has given to them much labor. The botanist must have learned to trace the herbs and

flowers before he can presume to tell us how God has formed them. But the death of Hector is a fit subject for

a boy's verses, though Homer also sang of it. I feel that there is scope for a book on the United States form of

government as it was founded, and as it has since framed itself, which might do honor to the lifelong studies

of some one of those great constitutional pundits whom we have among us; but, nevertheless, the plain words

of a man who is no pundit need not disgrace the subject, if they be honestly written, and if he who writes

them has in his heart an honest love of liberty. Such were my thoughts as I walked the deck of the Cunard

steamer. Then I descended to my cabin, settled my luggage, and prepared a table for the continuance of my

work. It was fourteen days from that time before I reached London, but the fourteen days to me were not

unpleasant. The demon of seasickness spares me always, and if I can find on board one or two who are

equally fortunatewho can eat with me, drink with me, and talk with meI do not know that a passage

In finishing these volumes after the fashion in which they have been written throughout, I feel that I am

bound to express a fixed opinion on two or three points, and that if I have not enabled myself to do so, I have

traveled through the country in vain. I am bound by the very nature of my undertaking to say whether,

according to such view as I have enabled myself to take of them, the Americans have succeeded as a nation

politically and socially; and in doing this I ought to be able to explain how far slavery has interfered with

such success. I am bound also, writing at the present moment, to express some opinion as to the result of this

war, and to declare whether the North or the South may be expected to be victorious explaining in some

rough way what may be the results of such victory, and how such results will affect the question of slavery;

and I shall leave my task unfinished if I do not say what may be the possible chances of future quarrel

between England and the States. That there has been and is much hot blood and angry feeling, no man

doubts; but such angry feeling has existed among many nations without any probability of war. In this case,

with reference to this ill will that has certainly established itself between us and that other people, is there any

No one, I think, can doubt that the founders of the great American Commonwealth made an error in omitting

to provide some means for the gradual extinction of slavery throughout the States. That error did not consist

in any liking for slavery. There was no feeling in favor of slavery on the part of those who made themselves

prominent at the political birth of the nation. I think I shall be justified in saying that at that time the opinion

that slavery is itself a good thing, that it is an institution of divine origin and fit to be perpetuated among men

as in itself excellent, had not found that favor in the Southern States in which it is now held. Jefferson, who

has been regarded as the leader of the Southern or Democratic party, has left ample testimony that he

regarded slavery as an evil. It is, I think, true that he gave such testimony much more freely when he was

speaking or writing as a private individual than he ever allowed himself to do when his words were armed

with the weight of public authority. But it is clear that on the whole he was opposed to slavery, and I think

there can be little doubt that he and his party looked forward to a natural death for that evil. Calculation was

made that slavery when not recruited afresh from Africa could not maintain its numbers, and that gradually

the negro population would become extinct. This was the error made. It was easier to look forward to such a

result and hope for such an end of the difficulty, than to extinguish slavery by a great political movement,

which must doubtless have been difficult and costly. The Northern States got rid of slavery by the operation

of their separate legislatures, some at one date and some at others. The slaves were less numerous in the

North than in the South, and the feeling adverse to slaves was stronger in the North than in the South. Mason

and Dixon's line, which now separates slave soil from free soil, merely indicates the position in the country at

which the balance turned. Maryland and Virginia were not inclined to make great immediate sacrifices for the

manumission of their slaves; but the gentlemen of those States did not think that slavery was a divine

The maintenance of slavery was, I think, a political mistakea political mistake, not because slavery is

politically wrong, but because the politicians of the day made erroneous calculations as to the probability of

its termination. So the income tax may be a political blunder with usnot because it is in itself a bad tax, but

because those who imposed it conceived that they were imposing it for a year or two, whereas, now, men do

not expect to see the end of it. The maintenance of slavery was a political mistake; and I cannot think that the

Americans in any way lessen the weight of their own error by protesting, as they occasionally do, that slavery

was a legacy made over to them from England. They might as well say that traveling in carts without springs,

at the rate of three miles an hour, was a legacy made over to them by England. On that matter of traveling

they have not been contented with the old habits left to them, but have gone ahead and made railroads. In

creating those railways the merit is due to them; and so also is the demerit of maintaining those slaves.

That demerit and that mistake have doubtless brought upon the Americans the grievances of their present

position; and will, as I think, so far be accompanied by ultimate punishment that they will be the immediate

means of causing the first disintegration of their nation. I will leave it to the Americans themselves to say

whether such disintegration must necessarily imply that they have failed in their political undertaking. The

most loyal citizens of the Northern States would have declared a month or two sinceand for aught I know

would declare nowthat any disintegration of the States implied absolute failure. One stripe erased from the

banner, one star lost from the firmament, would entail upon them all the disgrace of national defeat! It had

been their boast that they would always advance, never retreat. They had looked forward to add ever State

upon State, and Territory to Territory, till the whole continent should be bound together in the same union.

To go back from that now, to fall into pieces and be divided, to become smaller in the eyes of the nations, to

be absolutely halfed, as some would say of such division, would be national disgrace, and would amount to

political failure. "Let us fight for the whole," such men said, and probably do say. "To lose anything is to lose

But the citizens of the States who speak and think thus, though they may be the most loyal, are perhaps not

politically the most wise. And I am inclined to think that that defiant claim of every star, that resolve to

possess every stripe upon the banner, had become somewhat less general when I was leaving the country than

I had found it to be at the time of my arrival there. While things were going badly with the North, while there

was no tale of any battle to be told except of those at Bull's Run and Springfield, no Northern man would

admit a hint that secession might ultimately prevail in Georgia or Alabama. But the rebels had been driven

out of Missouri when I was leaving the States, they had retreated altogether from Kentucky, having been

beaten in one engagement there, and from a great portion of Tennessee, having been twice beaten in that

State. The coast of North Carolina, and many points of the Southern coast, were in the hands of the Northern

army, while the army of the South was retreating from all points into the center of their country. Whatever

may have been the strategetical merits or demerits of the Northern generals, it is at any rate certain that their

apparent successes were greedily welcomed by the people, and created an idea that things were going well

with the cause. And as all this took place, it seemed to me that I heard less about the necessary integrity of the

old flag. While as yet they were altogether unsuccessful, they were minded to make no surrender. But with

their successes came the feeling, that in taking much they might perhaps allow themselves to yield

something. This was clearly indicated by the message sent to Congress by the President, in February, 1862, in

which he suggested that Congress should make arrangements for the purchase of the slaves in the border

States; so that in the event of secessionaccomplished secessionin the Gulf States, the course of those

border States might be made clear for them. They might hesitate as to going willingly with the North, while

possessing slaves, as to sitting themselves peaceably down as a small slave adjunct to a vast freesoil nation,

seeing that their property would always be in peril. Under such circumstances a slave adjunct to the freesoil

nation would not long be possible. But if it could be shown to them that in the event of their adhering to the

North compensation would be forthcoming, then, indeed, the difficulty in arranging an advantageous line

between the two future nations might be considerably modified. This message of the President's was intended

to signify that secession on favorable terms might be regarded by the North as not undesirable. Moderate men

were beginning to whisper that, after all, the Gulf States were no source either of national wealth or of

national honor. Had there not been enough at Washington of cotton lords and cotton laws? When I have

suggested that no Senator from Georgia would ever again sit in the United States Senate, American

gentlemen have received my remark with a slight demur, and have then proceeded to argue the case. Six

I will leave it to Americans themselves to say whether that disintegration of the States will, should it ever be

realized, imply that they have failed in their political undertaking. If they do not protest that it argues failure,

I do not think that their feelings will be hurt by such protestations on the part of others. I have said that the

blunder made by the founders of the nation with regard to slavery has brought with it this secession as its

punishment. But such punishments come generally upon nations as great mercies. Ireland's famine was the

punishment of her imprudence and idleness, but it has given to her prosperity and progress. And indeed, to

speak with more logical correctness, the famine was no punishment to Ireland, nor will secession be a

punishment to the Northern States. In the long result, step will have gone on after step, and effect will have

followed cause, till the American people will at last acknowledge that all these matters have been arranged

for their advantage and promotion. It may be that a nation now and then goes to the wall, and that things go

from bad to worse with a large people. It has been so with various nations, and with many people since

history was first written. But when it has been so, the people thus punished have been idle and bad. They

have not only done evil in their generation, but have done more evil than good, and have contributed their

power to the injury rather than to the improvement of mankind. It may be that this or that national fault may

produce or seem to produce some consequent calamity. But the balance of good or evil things which fall to a

people's share will indicate with certainty their average conduct as a nation. The one will be the certain

sequence of the other. If it be that the Americans of the Northern States have done well in their time, that they

have assisted in the progress of the world, and made things better for mankind rather than worse, then they

will come out of this trouble without eventual injury. That which came in the guise of punishment for a

special fault, will be a part of the reward resulting from good conduct in the general. And as to this matter of

slavery, in which I think that they have blundered both politically and morally, has it not been found

impossible hitherto for them to cleanse their hands of that taint? But that which they could not do for

themselves the course of events is doing for them. If secession establish herself, though it be only secession

of the Gulf States, the people of the United States will soon be free from slavery.

In judging of the success or want of success of any political institutions or of any form of government, we

should be guided, I think, by the general results, and not by any abstract rules as to the right or wrong of those

institutions or of that form. It might be easy for a German lawyer to show that our system of trial by jury is

open to the gravest objections, and that it sins against common sense. But if that system gives us substantial

justice, and protects us from the tyranny of men in office, the German will not succeed in making us believe

that it is a bad system. When looking into the matter of the schools at Boston, I observed to one of the

committee of management that the statements with which I was supplied, though they told me how many of

the children went to school, did not tell me how long they remained at school. The gentleman replied that that

information was to be obtained from the result of the schooling of the population generally. Every boy and

girl around him could read and write, and could enjoy reading and writing. There was therefore evidence to

show that they remained at school sufficiently long for the required purposes. It was fair that I should judge

of the system from the results. Here, in England, we generally object to much that the Americans have

adopted into their form of government, and think that many of their political theories are wrong. We do not

like universal suffrage. We do not like a periodical change in the first magistrate; and we like quite as little a

periodical permanence in the political officers immediately under the chief magistrate; we are, in short,

wedded to our own forms, and therefore opposed by judgment to forms differing from our own. But I think

we all acknowledge that the United States, burdened as they are with these political evilsas we think

themhave grown in strength and material prosperity with a celerity of growth hitherto unknown among

nations. We may dislike Americans personally, we may find ourselves uncomfortable when there, and unable

to sympathize with them when away. We may believe them to be ambitious, unjust, selfidolatrous, or

irreligious; but unless we throw our judgment altogether overboard, we cannot believe them to be a weak

people, a poor people, a people with low spirits or with idle hands. Now to what is it that the government of a

country should chiefly look? What special advantages do we expect from our own government? Is it not that

we should be safe at home and respected abroadthat laws should be maintained, but that they should be so

maintained that they should not be oppressive? There are, doubtless, countries in which the government

professes to do much more than this for its peoplecountries in which the government is paternal; in which

it regulates the religion of the people, and professes to enforce on all the national children respect for the

governors, teachers, spiritual pastors, and masters. But that is not our idea of a government. That is not what

we desire to see established among ourselves or established among others. Safety from foreign foes, respect

from foreign foes and friends, security under the law and security from the law, this is what we expect from

our government; and if I add to this that we expect to have these good things provided at a fairly moderate

cost, I think I have exhausted the list of our requirements. I hardly think that we even yet expect the

government to take the first steps in the rudimentary education of the people. We certainly do not expect it to

And if the Americans with their form of government have done for themselves all that we expect our

government to do for us; if they have with some fair approach to general excellence obtained respect abroad

and security at home from foreign foes; if they have made life, liberty, and property safe under their laws, and

have also so written and executed their laws as to secure their people from legal oppression,I maintain that

they are entitled to a verdict in their favor, let us object as we may to universal suffrage, to four years'

Presidents and four years' presidential cabinets. What, after all, matters the theory or the system, whether it be

king or president, universal suffrage or tenpound voter, so long as the people be free and prosperous? King

and president, suffrage by poll and suffrage by property, are but the means. If the end be there, if the thing

has been done, king and president, open suffrage and close suffrage, may alike be declared to have been

successful. The Americans have been in existence as a nation for seventyfive years, and have achieved an

amount of foreign respect during that period greater than any other nation ever obtained in double the time.

And this has been given to them, not in deference to the statesmanlike craft of their diplomatic and other

officers, but on grounds the very opposite of those. It has been given to them because they form a numerous,

wealthy, brave, and selfasserting nation. It is, I think, unnecessary to prove that such foreign respect has

been given to them; but were it necessary, nothing would prove it more strongly than the regard which has

been universally paid by European governments to the blockade placed during this war on the Southern ports

by the government of the United States. Had the nation been placed by general consent in any class of nations

below the first, England, France, and perhaps Russia would have taken the matter into their own hands, and

have settled for the States, either united or disunited, at any rate that question of the blockade. And the

Americans have been safe at home from foreign foes; so safe, that no other strong people but ourselves have

enjoyed anything approaching to their security since their foundation. Nor has our security been at all equal

to theirs, if we are to count our nationality as extending beyond the British Isles. Then as to security under

their laws and from their laws! Those laws and the system of their management have been taken almost

entirely from us, and have so been administered that life and property have been safe, and the subject also has

been free, under the law. I think that this may be taken for granted, seeing that they who have been most

opposed to American forms of government have never asserted the reverse. I may be told of a man being

lynched in one State, or tarred and feathered in another, or of a duel in a third being "fought at sight." So I

may be told also of men garroted in London, and of tithe proctors buried in a bog without their ears in

Ireland. Neither will seventy years of continuance, nor will seven hundred, secure such an observance of laws

as will prevent temporary ebullition of popular feeling, or save a people from the chance disgrace of

occasional outrage. Taking the general, life and limb and property have been as safe in the States as in other

As to their personal liberty under their laws, I know it will be said that they have surrendered all claim to any

such precious possession by the facility with which they have now surrendered the privilege of the writ of

habeas corpus. It has been taken from them, as I have endeavored to show, illegally, and they have submitted

to the loss and to the illegality without a murmur! But in such a matter I do not think it fair to judge them by

their conduct in such a moment as the present. That this is the very moment in which to judge of the

efficiency of their institutions generally, of the aptitude of those institutions for the security of the nation, I

readily acknowledge; but when a ship is at sea in a storm, riding out through all that the winds and waves can

do to her, one does not condemn her because a yardarm gives way, nor even though the mainmast should go

by the board. If she can make her port, saving life and cargo, she is a good ship, let her losses in spars and

rigging be what they may. In this affair of the habeas corpus we will wait awhile before we come to any final

judgment. If it be that the people, when the war is over, shall consent to live under a military or other

dictatorship, that they shall quietly continue their course as a nation without recovery of their rights of

freedom, then we shall have to say that their institutions were not founded in a soil of sufficient depth, and

that they gave way before the first high wind that blew on them. I myself do not expect such a result.

I think we must admit that the Americans have received from their government, or rather from their system of

policy, that aid and furtherance which they required from it; and, moreover, such aid and furtherance as we

expect from our system of government. We must admit that they have been great, and free, and prosperous,

as we also have become. And we must admit also that in some matters they have gone forward in advance of

us. They have educated their people, as we have not educated ours. They have given to their millions a

personal respect, and a standing above the abjectness of poverty, which with us are much less general than

with them. These things, I grant, have not come of their government, and have not been produced by their

written Constitution. They are the happy results of their happy circumstances. But so also are not those evil

attributes which we sometimes assign to them the creatures of their government or of their Constitution. We

acknowledge them to be well educated, intelligent, philanthropic, and industrious; but we say that they are

ambitious, unjust, selfidolatrous, and irreligious. If so, let us at any rate balance the virtues against the vices.

As to their ambition, it is a vice that leans so to virtue's side that it hardly needs an apology. As to their

injustice, or rather dishonesty, I have said what I have to say on that matter. I am not going to flinch from the

accusation I have brought, though I am aware that in bringing it I have thrown away any hope that I might

have had of carrying with me the goodwill of the Americans for my book. The love of moneyor rather of

making moneycarried to an extreme, has lessened that instinctive respect for the rights of meum and tuum,

which all men feel more or less, and which, when encouraged within the human breast, finds its result in

perfect honesty. Other nations, of which I will not now stop to name even one, have had their periods of

natural dishonesty. It may be that others are even now to be placed in the same category. But it is a fault

which industry and intelligence combined will after awhile serve to lessen and to banish. The industrious man

desires to keep the fruit of his own industry, and the intelligent man will ultimately be able to do so. That the

Americans are selfidolaters is perhaps truewith a difference. An American desires you to worship his

country, or his brother; but he does not often, by any of the usual signs of conceit, call upon you to worship

himself; as an American, treating of America, he is selfidolatrous; that is a selfidolatry which I can endure.

Then, as to his want of religion and it is a very sad wantI can only say of him that I, as an Englishman,

do not feel myself justified in flinging the first stone at him. In that matter of religion, as in the matter of

education, the American, I think, stands on a level higher than ours. There is not in the States so absolute an

ignorance of religion as is to be found in some of our manufacturing and mining districts, and also, alas! in

some of our agricultural districts; but also, I think, there is less of respect and veneration for God's word

among their educated classes than there is with us; and, perhaps, also less knowledge as to God's word. The

general religious level is, I think, higher with them; but there is, if I am right in my supposition, with us a

I think, then, that we are bound to acknowledge that the Americans have succeeded as a nation, politically

and socially. When I speak of social success, I do not mean to say that their manners are correct according to

this or that standard; I will not say that they are correct or are not correct. In that matter of manners I have

found those with whom it seemed to me natural that I should associate very pleasant according to my

standard. I do not know that I am a good critic on such a subject, or that I have ever thought much of it with

the view of criticising; I have been happy and comfortable with them, and for me that has been sufficient. In

speaking of social success I allude to their success in private life as distinguished from that which they have

achieved in public life; to their successes in commerce, in mechanics, in the comforts and luxuries of life, in

physic and all that leads to the solace of affliction, in literature, and I may add also, considering the youth of

the nation, in the arts. We are, I think, bound to acknowledge that they have succeeded. And if they have

succeeded, it is vain for us to say that a system is wrong which has, at any rate, admitted of such success.

That which was wanted from some form of government, has been obtained with much more than average

excellence; and therefore the form adopted has approved itself as good. You may explain to a farmer's wife,

with indisputable logic, that her churn is a bad churn; but as long as she turns out butter in greater quantity, in

better quality, and with more profit than her neighbors, you will hardly induce her to change it. It may be that

with some other churn she might have done even better; but, under such circumstances, she will have a right

The American Constitution is now, I think, at the crisis of its severest trial. I conceive it to be by no means

perfect, even for the wants of the people who use it; and I have already endeavored to explain what changes it

seems to need. And it has had this defect that it has permitted a falling away from its intended modes of

action, while its letter has been kept sacred. As I have endeavored to show, universal suffrage and democratic

action in the Senate were not intended by the framers of the Constitution. In this respect the Constitution has,

as it were, fallen through, and it is needed that its very beams should be restrengthened. There are also other

matters as to which it seems that some change is indispensable. So much I have admitted. But, not the less,

judging of it by the entirety of the work that it has done, I think that we are bound to own that it has been

And now, with regard to this tedious war, of which from day to day we are still, in this month of May, 1862,

hearing details which teach us to think that it can hardly as yet be near its end. To what may we rationally

look as its result? Of one thing I myself feel tolerably certain, that its result will not be nothing, as some

among us have seemed to suppose may be probable. I cannot believe that all this energy on the part of the

North will be of no avail, more than I suppose that Southern perseverance will be of no avail. There are those

among us who say that a secession will at last be accomplished; the North should have yielded to the South at

once, and that nothing will be gained by their great expenditure of life and treasure. I can by no means bring

myself to agree with these. I also look to the establishment of secession. Seeing how essential and thorough

are the points of variance between the North and the South, how unlike the one people is to the other, and

how necessary it is that their policies should be different; seeing how deep are their antipathies, and how

fixed is each side in the belief of its own rectitude and in the belief also of the other's political baseness, I can

not believe that the really Southern States will ever again be joined in amicable union with those of the North.

They, the States of the Gulf, may be utterly subjugated, and the North may hold over them military power.

Georgia and her sisters may for awhile belong to the Union, as one conquered country belongs to another.

But I do not think that they will ever act with the Union; and, as I imagine, the Union before long will agree

to a separation. I do not mean to prophesy that the result will be thus accomplished. It may be that the South

will effect their own independence before they lay down their arms. I think, however, that we may look

forward to such independence, whether it be achieved in that way, or in this, or in some other.

But not on that account will the war have been of no avail to the North. I think it must be already evident to

all those who have looked into the matter, that had the North yielded to the first call made by the South for

secession all the slave States must have gone. Maryland would have gone, carrying Delaware in its arms; and

if Maryland, all south of Maryland. If Maryland had gone, the capital would have gone. If the government

had resolved to yield, Virginia to the east would assuredly have gone, and I think there can be no doubt that

Missouri, to the west, would have gone also. The feeling for the Union in Kentucky was very strong, but I do

not think that even Kentucky could have saved itself. To have yielded to the Southern demands would have

been to have yielded everything. But no man now presumes, let the contest go as it will, that Maryland and

Delaware will go with the South. The secessionists of Baltimore do not think so, nor the gentlemen and ladies

of Washington, whose whole hearts are in the Southern cause. No man thinks that Maryland will go, and few,

I believe, imagine that either Missouri or Kentucky will be divided from the North. I will not pretend what

may be the exact line, but I myself feel confident that it will run south both of Virginia and of Kentucky.

If the North do conquer the South, and so arrange their matters that the Southern States shall again become

members of the Union, it will be admitted that they have done all that they ought to do. If they do not do

thisif instead of doing this, which would be all that they desire, they were in truth to do nothing; to win

finally not one foot of ground from the Southa supposition which I regard as impossibleI think that we

should still admit after awhile that they had done their duty in endeavoring to maintain the integrity of the

empire. But if, as a third and more probable alternative, they succeed in rescuing from the South and from

slavery four or five of the finest States of the old Unionand a vast portion of the continent to be beaten by

none other in salubrity, fertility, beauty, and political importancewill it not then be admitted that the war

That is the termination of the contest to which I look forward. I think that there will be secession, but that the

terms of secession will be dictated by the North, not by the South; and among these terms I expect to see an

escape from slavery for those border States to which I have alluded. In that proposition which in February last

(1862) was made by the President, and which has since been sanctioned by the Senate, I think we may see the

first step toward this measure. It may probably be the case that many of the slaves will be driven South; that

as the owners of those slaves are driven from their holdings in Virginia they will take their slaves with them,

or send them before them. The manumission, when it reaches Virginia, will not probably enfranchise the half

million of slaves who, in 1860, were counted among its population. But as to that I confess myself to be

comparatively careless; it is not the concern which I have now at heart. For myself, I shall feel satisfied if that

manumission shall reach the million of whites by whom Virginia is populated; or if not that million in its

integrity, then that other million by which its rich soil would soon be tenanted. There are now about four

million of white men and women inhabiting the slave States which I have described, and I think it will be

acknowledged that the Northern States will have done something with their armies if they succeed in rescuing

There is a third question which I have asked myself, and to which I have undertaken to give some answer.

When this war be over between the Northern and Southern States, will there come upon us a necessity of

fighting with the Americans? If there do come such necessity, arising out of our conduct to the States during

the period of their civil war, it will indeed be hard upon us, as a nation, seeing the struggle that we as a nation

have made to be just in our dealings toward the States generally, whether they be North or South. To be just

in such a period, and under such circumstances, is very difficult. In that contest between Sardinia and Austria

it was all but impossible to be just to the Italians without being unjust to the Emperor of Austria. To have

been strictly just at the moment one should have begun by confessing the injustice of so much that had gone

before! But in this American contest such justice, though difficult, was easier. Affairs of trade rather than of

treaties chiefly interfered; and these affairs, by a total disregard of our own pecuniary interests, could be so

managed that justice might be done. This I think was effected. It may be, of course, that I am prejudiced on

the side of my own nation; but striving to judge of the matter as best I may without prejudice, I cannot see

that we, as a nation, have in aught offended against the strictest justice in our dealings with America during

this contest. But justice has not sufficed. I do not know that our bitterest foes in the Northern States have

accused us of acting unjustly. It is not justice which they have looked for at our hands, and looked for in

vainnot justice, but generosity! We have not, as they say, sympathized with them in their trouble. It seems

to me that such a complaint is unworthy of them as a nation, as a people, or as individuals. In such a matter

generosity is another name for injustice, as it too often is in all matters. A generous sympathy with the North

would have been an ostensible and crushing enmity to the South. We could not have sympathized with the

North without condemning the South, and telling to the world that the South were our enemies. In ordering

his own household a man should not want generosity or sympathy from the outside; and if not a man, then

certainly not a nation. Generosity between nations must in its very nature be wrong. One nation may be just

to another, courteous to another, even considerate to another with propriety. But no nation can be generous to

But though no accusation of unfairness has, as far as I am aware, ever been made by the government of

Washington against the government of England, there can be no doubt that a very strong feeling of antipathy

to England has sprung up in America during this war, and that it is even yet so intense in its bitterness that,

were the North to become speedily victorious in their present contest, very many Americans would be

anxious to turn their arms at once against Canada. And I fear that that fight between the Monitor and the

Merrimac has strengthened this wish by giving to the Americans an unwarranted confidence in their

capability of defending themselves against any injury from British shipping. It may be said by them, and

probably would be said by many of them, that this feeling of enmity had not been engendered by any idea of

national injustice on our side; that it might reasonably exist, though no suspicion of such injustice had arisen

in the minds of any. They would argue that the hatred on their part had been engendered by scorn on

They would say that slander, scorn, and uncharitable judgments create deeper feuds than do robbery and

violence, and produce deeper enmity and worse rancor. "It is because we have been scorned by England, that

we hate England. We have been told from week to week, and from day to day, that we were fools, cowards,

knaves, and madmen. We have been treated with disrespect, and that disrespect we will avenge." It is thus

that they speak of England, and there can be no doubt that the opinion so expressed is very general. It is not

my purpose here to say whether in this respect England has given cause of offense to the States, or whether

either country has given cause of offense to the other. On both sides have many hard words been spoken, and

on both sides also have good words been spoken. It is unfortunately the case that hard words are pregnant,

and as such they are read, digested, and remembered; while good words are generally so dull that nobody

reads them willingly, and when read, they are forgotten. For many years there have been hard words bandied

backward and forward between England and the United States, showing mutual jealousies, and a disposition

on the part of each nation to spare no fault committed by the other. This has grown of rivalry between the

two, and in fact proves the respect which each has for the other's power and wealth. I will not now pretend to

say with which side has been the chiefest blame, if there has been chiefest blame on either side. But I do say

that it is monstrous in any people or in any person to suppose that such bickerings can afford a proper ground

for war. I am not about to dilate on the horrors of war. Horrid as war may be, and full of evil, it is not so

horrid to a nation, nor so full of evil, as national insult unavenged or as national injury unredressed. A blow

taken by a nation and taken without atonement is an acknowledgment of national inferiority, than which any

war is preferable. Neither England nor the States are inclined to take such blows. But such a blow, before it

can be regarded as a national insult, as a wrong done by one nation to another, must be inflicted by the

political entity of the one or the political entity of the other. No angry clamors of the press, no declamations

of orators, no voices from the people, no studied criticisms from the learned few, or unstudied censures from

society at large, can have any fair weight on such a creation or do aught toward justifying a national quarrel.

They cannot form a casus belli. Those two Latin words, which we all understand, explain this with the utmost

accuracy. Were it not so, the peace of the world would indeed rest upon sand. Causes of national difference

will arisefor governments will be unjust as are individuals. And causes of difference will arise because

governments are too blind to distinguish the just from the unjust. But in such cases the government acts on

some ground which it declares. It either shows or pretends to show some casus belli. But in this matter of

threatened war between the States and England it is declared openly that such war is to take place because the

English have abused the Americans, and because consequently the Americans hate the English. There seems

to exist an impression that no other ostensible ground for fighting need be shown, although such an event as

that of war between the two nations would, as all men acknowledge, be terrible in its results. "Your

newspapers insulted us when we were in our difficulties. Your writers said evil things of us. Your legislators

spoke of us with scorn. You exacted from us a disagreeable duty of retribution just when the performance of

such a duty was most odious to us. You have shown symptoms of joy at our sorrow. And, therefore, as soon

as our hands are at liberty, we will fight you." I have known schoolboys to argue in that way, and the

arguments have been intelligible; but I cannot understand that any government should admit such an

Nor will the American government willingly admit it. According to existing theories of government the

armies of nations are but the tools of the governing powers. If at the close of the present civil war the

American governmentthe old civil government consisting of the President with such checks as Congress

constitutionally has over himshall really hold the power to which it pretends, I do not fear that there will be

any war. No President, and I think no Congress, will desire such a war. Nor will the people clamor for it,

even should the idea of such a war be popular. The people of America are not clamorous against their

government. If there be such a war it will be because the army shall have then become more powerful than

the government. If the President can hold his own, the people will support him in his desire for peace. But if

the President do not hold his ownif some general, with two or three hundred thousand men at his back,

shall then have the upper hand in the nationit is too probable that the people may back him. The old game

will be played again that has so often been played in the history of nations, and some wretched military

aspirant will go forth to flood Canada with blood, in order that the feathers of his cap may flaunt in men's

eyes and that he may be talked of for some years to come as one of the great curses let loose by the Almighty

I must confess that there is danger of this. To us the danger is very great. It cannot be good for us to send

ships laden outside with iron shields instead of inside with soft goods and hardware to these thickly thronged

American ports. It cannot be good for us to have to throw millions into these harbors instead of taking

millions out from them. It cannot be good for us to export thousands upon thousands of soldiers to Canada of

whom only hundreds would return. The whole turmoil, cost, and paraphernalia of such a course would be

injurious to us in the extreme, and the loss of our commerce would be nearly ruinous. But the injury of such a

war to us would be as nothing to the injury which it would inflict upon the States. To them for many years it

would be absolutely ruinous. It would entail not only all those losses which such a war must bring with it, but

that greater loss which would arise to the nation from the fact of its having been powerless to prevent it. Such

a war would prove that it had lost the freedom for which it had struggled, and which for so many years it has

enjoyed. For the sake of that people as well as for our ownand for their sakes rather than for our own let

us, as far as may be, abstain from words which are needlessly injurious. They have done much that is great

and noble, ever since this war has begun, and we have been slow to acknowledge it. They have made

sacrifices for the sake of their country which we have ridiculed. They have struggled to maintain a good

cause, and we have disbelieved in their earnestness. They have been anxious to abide by their Constitution,

which to them has been as it were a second gospel, and we have spoken of that Constitution as though it had

been a thing of mere words in which life had never existed. This has been done while their hands are very full

and their back heavily laden. Such words coming from us, or from parties among us, cannot justify those

threats of war which we hear spoken; but that they should make the hearts of men sore and their thoughts

As to the result of any such war between us and them, it would depend mainly, I think, on the feelings of the

Canadians. Neither could they annex Canada without the goodwill of the Canadians, nor could we keep

Canada without that goodwill. At present the feeling in Canada against the Northern States is so strong and

I have now done my task, and may take leave of my readers on either side of the water with a hearty hope

that the existing war between the North and the South may soon be over, and that none other may follow on

its heels to exercise that newfledged military skill which the existing quarrel will have produced on the

other side of the Atlantic. I have written my book in obscure language if I have not shown that to me social

successes and commercial prosperity are much dearer than any greatness that can be won by arms. The

Americans had fondly thought that they were to be exempt from the curse of warat any rate from the

bitterness of the curse. But the days for such exemption have not come as yet. While we are hurrying on to

make twelveinch shield plates for our menofwar, we can hardly dare to think of the days when the sword

shall be turned into the plowshare. May it not be thought well for us if, with such work on our hands, scraps

of iron shall be left to us with which to pursue any of the purposes of peace? But at least let us not have war

with these children of our own. If we must fight, let us fight the French "for King George upon the throne."

The doing so will be disagreeable, but it will not be antipathetic to the nature of an Englishman. For my part,

when an American tells me that he wants to fight with me, I regard his offense, as compared with that of a

Frenchman under the same circumstances, as I would compare the offense of a parricide or a fratricide with

that of a mere commonplace murderer. Such a war would be plus quam civile bellum. Which of us two could

take a thrashing from the other and afterward go about our business with contentment?

On our return to Liverpool, we stayed for a few hours at Queenstown, taking in coal, and the passengers

landed that they might stretch their legs and look about them. I also went ashore at the dear old place which I

had known well in other days, when the people were not too grand to call it Cove, and were contented to run

down from Cork in river steamers, before the Passage railway was built. I spent a pleasant summer there once

in those times: God be with the good old days! And now I went ashore at Queenstown, happy to feel that I

should be again in a British isle, and happy also to know that I was once more in Ireland. And when the

people came around me as they did, I seemed to know every face and to be familiar with every voice. It has

been my fate to have so close an intimacy with Ireland, that when I meet an Irishman abroad I always

recognize in him more of a kinsman than I do in your Englishman. I never ask an Englishman from what

county he comes, or what was his town. To Irishmen I usually put such questions, and I am generally familiar

with the old haunts which they name. I was happy therefore to feel myself again in Ireland, and to walk

round, from Queenstown to the river at Passage, by the old way that had once been familiar to my feet.

Or rather I should have been happy if I had not found myself instantly disgraced by the importunities of my

friends. A legion of women surrounded me, imploring alms, begging my honor to bestow my charity on them

for the love of the Virgin, using the most holy names in their adjurations for halfpence, clinging to me with

that halfjoking, halflachrymose air of importunity which an Irish beggar has assumed as peculiarly her

own. There were men, too, who begged as well as women. And the women were sturdy and fat, and, not

knowing me as well as I knew them, seemed resolved that their importunities should be successful. After all,

I had an old world liking for them in their rags. They were endeared to me by certain memories and

associations which I cannot define. But then what would those Americans think of themof them and of the

country which produced them? That was the reflection which troubled me. A legion of women in rags

clamorous for bread, protesting to heaven that they are starving, importunate with voices and with hands,

surrounding the stranger when he puts his foot on the soil, so that he cannot escape, does not afford to the

cynical American who then first visits usand they all are cynical when they visit usa bad opportunity for

his sarcasm. He can at any rate boast that he sees nothing of that at home. I myself am fond of Irish beggars.

It is an acquired taste, which comes upon one as does that for smoked whisky or Limerick tobacco. But I

I tell all this here not to the disgrace of Irelandnot for the triumph of America. The Irishman or American

who thinks rightly on the subject will know that the state of each country has arisen from its opportunities.

Beggary does not prevail in new countries, and but few old countries have managed to exist without it. As to

Ireland, we may rejoice to say that there is less of it now than there was twenty years since. Things are

mending there. But though such excuses may be truly madealthough an Englishman, when he sees this

squalor and poverty on the quays at Queenstown, consoles himself with reflecting that the evil has been

unavoidable, but will perhaps soon be avoidednevertheless he cannot but remember that there is no such

squalor and no such poverty in the land from which he has returned. I claim no credit for the new country. I

impute no blame to the old country. But there is the fact. The Irishman when he expatriates himself to one of

those American States loses much of that affectionate, confiding, masterworshiping nature which makes

him so good a fellow when at home. But he becomes more of a man. He assumes a dignity which he never

has known before. He learns to regard his labor as his own property. That which he earns he takes without

thanks, but he desires to take no more than he earns. To me personally, he has, perhaps, become less pleasant

than he was;but to himself! It seems to me that such a man must feel himself half a god, if he has the

It is right that all this should be acknowledged by us. When we speak of America and of her institutions, we

should remember that she has given to our increasing population rights and privileges which we could not

givewhich as an old country we probably can never give. That selfasserting, obtrusive independence

which so often wounds us is, if viewed aright, but an outward sign of those good things which a new country

has produced for its people. Men and women do not beg in the States; they do not offend you with tattered

rags; they do not complain to heaven of starvation; they do not crouch to the ground for halfpence. If poor,

they are not abject in their poverty. They read and write. They walk like human beings made in God's form.

They know that they are men and women, owing it to themselves and to the world that they should earn their

bread by their labor, but feeling that when earned it is their own. If this be so, if it be acknowledged that it is

so, should not such knowledge in itself be sufficient testimony of the success of the country and of her