Recollections of a lifetime, or Men and things I have seen: in a series of familiar letters to a friend, historical, biographical, anecdotical, and descriptive

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RECOLLECTIONS

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A LIFETIME:

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MEN AND THINGS I HAVE SEEN

IN A SEMES OF

FAMILIAR LETTERS TO A FRIEND,

HISTORICAL, BIOGRAPHICAL, ANECDOTICAL, AND
DESCRIPTIVE.

BY S. G. GOODRICH.

NEW YORK AND AUBURN :
MILLER, ORTON & CO.,

NEW YOEK, 25 PARK Row :— AUBURN, 107 GBNESEK-ST.
M DCCC LVII.

4: CONTENTS.

ginal American works — State of opinion as to American literature —
Publication of Trumbull's poems — Books for education — Eev. C. A.
Goodrich — Dr. Comstock — Woodbridge's Geography 90

LETTER XXXV.

Sketches of the " Hartford Wits"— Dr. Hopkins— Trnmbull, author of
McFingal — David Humphries — Dr. Strong — Theodore D wight —
Thomas H. Gallaudet — Daniel Wadsworth — Dr. Coggswell — Mrs.
Sigourney .. 114

LETTER XXXVI.

Dr. Percival— His early life — His father's attempt to cure his shyness —
College life — His early love — His medical experience — His poetical ca
reer — An awkward position — The saddle on his own back — Cooper
and Percival at the City Hotel — Publication of his poems at New
York — The edition in England — Other literary avocations — His sta
tion at West Point — His great learning — Assistant of Dr. Webster in
his Dictionary — State geologist in Connecticut — In Wisconsin — His
death — Estimate of his character 121

LETTER XXXVII.

A few wayside notes — The poet Brainard — His first introduction — Kip-
ley's tavern — Aunt Lucy — The little back-parlor — Brainard's office-
Anecdote — The devil's dun — The lines on Niagara — Other poems —
One that is on the Sea — The sea-bird's song — Publication of Brainard's
poems— General remarks — His death 141

LETTER XXXVIII.

My first voyage across the Atlantic — England — London — My tour on
the continent — Return to England — Visit to Barley-wood — Hannah
More — Inquiries as to books for education — Ireland — Dublin — The
Giant's Causeway — Scotland — Scenery of the Lady of the Lake — Glas
gow—Edinburgh 161

LETTER XXXIX.

Edinburgh — The Court of Sessions — Cranstoun, Cockburn, Moncrief—
Lockhart— Jeffrey— Sir Walter Scott 170

LETTER XL.

Preparations for a ride — Mr. Jeffrey in a rough-and-tumble — A glance
at Edinburgh from Braid's Hill — A shower — The maids of the mist —
Durable impressions 177

CONTENTS.

LETTER XLI.

William Blackwood — The Magazine — A dinner at Blackwood's — James
]>;ill;mtyne — Lord Byron and Lady Caroline Lamb — The General As
sembly of Scotland — Dr. Chalmers 184

LETTER XLIL

A dinner at Lockhart's — Conversation about Byron — Mrs. Lockhart —
Irving — Professor Ticknor — Music — The pibroch and Miss Edgeworth
— Anecdotes of the Indians — Southey and second sight — Cooper's Pi
oneers — The Pilot — Paul Jones — Brockden Brown — Burns — Tricks of
the press — Charles Scott — The Welsh parson — The Italian base-viol
player — Personal appearance of Sir Walter— Departure for London —
Again in Edinburgh in 1832 — Last moments of Sir Walter — The sym
pathy of nature 195

LETTER XLIII.

Journey to London — Eemarks on England, as it appears to the Amer
ican traveler — The climate — The landscape — Jealousies between the
English and Americans — Plan for securing peace 210

LETTER XLIV.

London thirty years ago — Its great increase — George IV. — Ascot Races
— The Duke of Wellington — Jacob Perkins and the steam-gun — The
Duke of Sussex — Duke of York — Hounslow Heath — Parliament —
Canning — Mackintosli — Brougham — Palmcrston — House of Lords —
Lord Eldon — Rhio Rhio — Catalini — Signorina Garcia — Edward Ir
ving — Byron's coffin 222

LETTER XLV.

Return to America — Removal to Boston — Literary position of Boston —
Prominent literary characters — The press — The pulpit — The bar —
New York now the literary metropolis — My publication of various
works — The Legendary — N. P. Willis — The era of Annuals — The
Token — The artists engaged in it — The authors — Its termination. 252

LETTER XLVI.

The contributors to the Token— N. P. Willis— N. Hawthorne— Miss
Francis — Mr. Greenwood — Mr. Pierpont — Charles Sprague — Mrs.
Sigourney — Miss Sedgwick — Mrs. Osgood, and others — Quarrels
between authors and publishers — Anecdotes — The publishers'
festival ...

CONTENTS.

LETTER XL VII.

The first of the Parley books — Its reception — Various publications —
Threatening attack of illness— Voyage to Europe— Consultation of
physicians at Paris — Sir Benj. Brodie, of London — Abercrombie, of
Edinburgh — Return to America — Residence in the country — Prosecu
tion of my literary labors — Footing up the account— Annoyances of
authorship — Letter to the New York Daily Times 279

LETTER XLVIII.

Republication of Parley's Tales in London — Mr. Tegg's operations —
Imitated by other publishers — Peter Parley Martin — Letter to Mr.
Darton — An edition of the false Parleys in America — The conse
quences 292,

LETTER XLIX.

Objections to the Parley books — My theory as to books for children —
Attempt in England to revive the old nursery books — Mr. Felix Sum
merly — Hallowell's Nursery Rhymes of England — Dialogue between
Timothy and his mother — Mother Goose — The Toad's Story — Books
of instruction 808

LETTER L.

Journey to the South — Anecdotes — Reception at New Orleans 822

LETTER LI.

Retrospection — Confessions — The mice among my papers— A reckoning
with the past 333

LETTER LII.

Speech at St. Albans — Lecture upon Ireland and the Irish — The Broad-
street riot — Burning the Charlestown convent — My political career —
A. II. Everett — The fifteen-gallon Jug — The Harrison campaign of
1840 — Hard cider and log cabins — General bankruptcy — Election
of Harrison — His death — Consequences — Anecdotes — The " Small-tail
Movement" — A model candidate — William Cpp, or shingling a
barn 839

LETTER LIIL

International copyright — Mr. Dickens's mission — His failure and his
revenge — The Boston convention — Inquiry into the basis of copyright
—Founded in absolute justice — What is property? — Grounds upon

CONTENTS. 7

which government protects property — History of copyright — Present
state of copyright law — Policy the basis of local copyright law — Inter
national copyright demanded by justice — Scheme for international
copyright with Great Britain — Reasons for it 855

LETTER LIV.

Statistics of the book trade — Its extension — The relative increase of
American literature, as compared with British literature 379

LETTER LV.

Recollections of Washington— The House of Representatives — Missouri
compromise — Clay, Randolph, and Lowndes — The Senate — Rufus
King — William Pinkney — Mr. Macon — Judge Marshall — Election of
John Quincy Adams — President Monroe — Meeting of Adams and
Jackson — Jackson's administration — Clay — Calhoun — Webster — An
ecdotes 393

LETTER LVL

London and Paris compared — Paris thirty years ago — Lcuis XVIII. — •
The Parisians — Garden of the Tuileries — Washington Irving — Mr.
Warden, the American consul — Societe Philomatique — Baron Larrey
— Geoft'roy St. Hilaire — The Institute — Arngo — Lamarck — Gay-Lussac
— Cuvier — Lacroix — Laplace — Laennec — Dupuy tren — Talma — Made
moiselle Mars 437

LETTER LVIL

Death of Louis XVIII.— Charles X.— The " Three Glorious Days"—
Louis Philippe — The revolution of February, 1848 449

LETTER LVIIL

Events which immediately followed the revolution — Scenes in the streets
of Paris — Anxiety of strangers — Proceedings of the Americans — Ad
dress to the Provisional Government — Reply of M. Arago — Procession
in the streets — Inauguration of the republic — Funeral of the victims —
Presentation of flags — Conspiracy of the 15th of May — Insurrection of
June — Adoption of the constitution — Louis Napoleon President. 471

LETTER LIX.

The duties of a consul — Pursuit of a missing family — Paying for expe
rience .. 480

O CONTENTS.

LETTER LX.

Character of the French republic — Its contrast with the American re
public — Aspect of the government in France — Louis Napoleon's ambi
tious designs — He flatters the army — Spreads rumors of socialist plots
— Divisions in the National Assembly — A levee at the Ely see— The
Coup d'Etat — Character of this act — Napoleon's government — Feel
ings of the people 489

LETTER LXI.

Meeting of Americans in Paris to commemorate the death of Clay and
Webster — Termination of my consular duties — Character of the French
nation — The " black-coat" circular 504

LETTER LXII.
Visit to Italy— Florence— Rome— Naples 521

LETTER LXIII.

Leave-taking — Improvement everywhere — In science — Geology, chem
istry, agriculture, manufactures, astronomy, navigation, the domestic
arts — Anthracite coal — Traveling — Painting — Daguerreotypes — The
Electric Telegraph — Moral progress — In foreign countries : in the Uni
ted States 530

APPENDIX 537

INDEX.. .. 554

RECOLLECTIONS OF A LIFETIME.

LETTER XXXI.

The Hartford Contention — Its Origin — Testimony of Noah "Webster — Oath
of Roger M. Sherman — Gathering of the Convention — Doings of Democ
racy thereupon — Physiognomy of the Convention — Sketches of some of the
Members — ColonelJessup — Democracy in the Streets — Report of the Con
vention — Reception of the Doings of the Convention by Madison and
his Party — Its Effect and Example — Comparison of the Hartford Con
vention with the Nullifiers — The Union forever.

MY DEAR 0 ******

I come now to the " Hartford Convention." Me-
thinks I hear you remark, with an aspect of dismay —
are you not venturing into deep water in treating of
such a subject, generally regarded as an historical
abyss, in which much may be lost and nothing can
be gained ?

Well, my friend, suppose you do ask this — is it
really a good reason why I should not tell what I have
seen, what I know, what I believe, in relation to it?
The Hartford Convention was in my time : my uncle,
Chauncey Goodrich, was one of its prominent mem
bers. I was then living with him ;* I saw all the

* I have stated elsewhere that he had promised to make me one of
his aids. Accordingly, II. L. Ellsworth — afterward Indian Agent and
Commissioner of Patents — and myself were appointed, with the rank of

1*

10 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

persons constituting that famous body, at his house ;
the image and superscription of the most distinguish
ed individuals are fresh in my recollection. I remem
ber the hue and aspect of the political atmosphere,
then and there. Why should I not tell these things ?
You may, perhaps, entertain the common notion that
the Hartford Convention was a congregation of con
spirators — traitors — and I shall invite you to abandon
this delusion. It may not be pleasant to hear your
cherished opinions controverted : it is always a little
disagreeable to receive truth, which requires us to sac
rifice something of our self-esteem, by giving up errors
which have become part of our mental constitution.
But certainly you will not silence me on any such nar
row ground as this. The time has come when one
may speak freely on this subject, and surely without
offense. Forty years have passed since the gathering
of that far-famed body. Every member of it is dead.
I will not insist that you shall say nothing of them
which is not good ; but I claim the privilege of say
ing of them what I know to be true. I am sure you
will listen to me patiently, if not approvingly.

major, April 17, 1815. I was not very ambitious of my title, for not
long after "Major Goodridge," of Bangor, Maine, acquired an infamous
notoriety, in consequence of a trial (December, 1816) in which Daniel
Webster made a celebrated plea, unmasking one of the most extraordi
nary cases of duplicity and hypocrisy on record. This Major Goodridge
pretended to have been robbed, and the crime was charged upon two
persons by the name of Kenniston. In the defense of these, Mr. Web-
uter proved that the charge was false, and that the accuser had himself
fabricated the whole story of the robbery. (See Webster's Works, vol.
v. page 441.)

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 11

You may perhaps suppose that there is but one
opinion in the country as to the character of that as
sembly ; but let me observe that there are two opin
ions upon the subject, and if one is unfavorable, the
other is diametrically opposite. In New England,
the memories of those who constituted the Conven
tion are held in reverence and esteem, by the great
body of their fellow-citizens, including a large ma
jority of those whose opinions are of weight and
value, and this has been so from the beginning.

I have said that they are now all gathered to their
fathers. As they have gone down, one by one, to
their last resting-place, public opinion has pronounced
sentence upon their lives and characters. I ask your
attention to the historical fact, that in every instance,
this has been a eulogy — not for talent only, but the
higher virtues of humanity. Of the twenty-six mem
bers who constituted the Convention, every one has
passed to an honored grave. The members of the Hart
ford Convention were, in effect, chosen by the people,
at a time of great trouble and alarm, for the purpose
of devising the ways and means to avert threatening —
impending evils. All felt the necessity of selecting
persons of the highest wisdom, prudence, and virtue,
and never was a choice more happily made. Most of
these men were indeed of that altitude of talent, piety,
dignity, and patriotism, which partisan pigmies natu
rally hate, by the inherent antipathy of littleness to
greatness, and of vice to virtue ; but in New England,

12 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

the enlightened generation among whom they lived,
estimated them according to their true merits. These
never believed them to be conspirators ; they .knew,
indeed, the fact to be otherwise. Even the blinding
influence of party spirit has never made the better
class of democrats in New England believe that the
Convention meditated treason. As to the mass of
the people, they held and still hold that the Hartford
Convention was one of the ablest and wisest assem
blies ever convened in the country.

I am aware, however, that the prevailing opinion
in the United States at large has been, and perhaps
still is, the reverse of this. Out of New England,
democracy is the dominant party. The war was a
democratic measure, and the Convention was the
work of the federalists, who opposed the war. It is,
doubtless, too much to expect that party spirit will
exercise candor toward those who brave and baffle
it — at least during the conflict. There were many
reasons why the Convention was an unpardonable
sin in the eyes of democracy : it was opposition to
the war, and that itself was treason : the war was
attended with defeat, disaster, disgrace, and to turn
retribution from the heads of the war-makers, it was
considered politic to charge every miscarriage to the
war opposers. In short, it was deemed the best way
for self-preservation, by the democratic leaders, to sink
the federalists in undying infamy. Hence they per
sisted in denouncing the Convention as an assembly

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 13

of conspirators. It is admitted that there was no overt
act of treason, but it is maintained that there was
treason in their hearts, the development of which was
only prevented by the return of peace, and the indig
nant rebuke of public sentiment.

The foundation of this tenacious calumny is doubt
less to be traced to John Quincy Adams, who, hav
ing lost the confidence of his political associates— -
the federalists of Massachusetts — and not being elect
ed to a second term as Senator of the United States,
speedily changed his politics, and made a disclosure,
real or pretended, to Jefferson, in 1808,* to the effect
that the federalists of the North — taking advantage
of the uneasiness of the people on account of the
distresses imposed upon them by the embargo — were
meditating a separation from the Union, and an alli
ance with Great Britain — of all things the most likely
to obtain democratic belief, and to excite democratic
horror.

Here was the germ of that clinging scandal against
New England, which has been perpetuated for forty
years. It certainly had a respectable voucher at the
beginning, but its utter want of foundation has long
since been proved. For about twenty years, however,
the libel was permitted — in secret and of course with
out contradiction — to ferment and expand and work
itself over the minds of Jefferson and his associates.

* See note on page 274, vol. i. of this work. Also Hildretb, second
series, vol. Hi. pp. 79, 117.

-I 4

14 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

It had created such an impression, that Madison —
when President — had only. to be told by an unaccred
ited foreigner, that he had the secret of a federal plot
for disunion in Massachusetts, and he at once bought
it, and paid fifty thousand dollars for it out of the
public treasury.* No doubt he really expected to find
that he had a rope round the necks of half the feder
alists in New England. He soon discovered, however,
that the biter was bit. John Henry duped the Presi
dent, who seized the hook, because it was baited with
suspicions, the seeds of which John Q. Adams had
furnished some years before.

It was not till the year 1828, when that person was
a candidate for the presidency a second time, that the
whole facts in regard to this calumny were developed.
He was then called seriously to account, f and such

* In March, 1812, Madison sent to Congress certain documents, pre
tending to disclose a secret plot, for the dismemberment of the Union,
and the formation of the Eastern States into a political connection
with Great Britiiin. It seems that in the winter of 1809, Sir J. II.
Crai<r, Governor-general of Canada, employed John Henry to undertake
a secret mission to the United States for this object. Henry proceeded
through Vermont and New Hampshire to Boston. He, however, never
found a person to whom he could broach the subject! As he stated,
the British government refused the promised compensation, and there
fore he turned traitor, and sold, his secret to our government. The
subject was fully discussed in Parliament, and it appeared that Hen
ry's scheme was not known to or authorized by the British govern
ment. The whole substance of the .matter was, that our government
was duped by a miserable adventurer. The conduct of Madison, in
this evident greediness to inculpate the federalists, was a lasting ground
of dislike and hostility to him. See Young's Amer. Statesman, p. 248.

t I was living in Boston at the time (October, 1828) when the public
first became fully aware of the fact, that, twenty years before, Mr. Ad-
nms. had planted the seeds of this accusation against the northern fed

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 15

was the effect, that from that time he was silent. In
vain did he attempt to furnish evidence of a plausible
foundation for his story. He referred to various wit
nesses, but it was pointedly remarked that all, save
one,* were dead. Yet' these even seemed to rise up

eralists in the eager soil of Mr. Jefferson's mind, where it had flourished
in secret, and whence it had been widely disseminated. There was a
general — indeed, an almost universal — feeling of indignation and aston
ishment. The presidential election was at hand, and Mr. Adams was
the candidate of the whig party for a second term. Those very persons,
whom he had thus maligned — themselves or their descendants — were
now his supporters. The election was permitted to pass, and Massa
chusetts gave her vote for Mr. Adams; he was, however, defeated, and
Jackson became his successor.

And now came the retribution. Mr. Adams was addressed by II. G-.
Otis, T. H. Perkins, William Prescott, Charles Jackson, and others —
men of the highest standing, and representing the old fecferal party,
charged with treason by him — demanding the proofs of the accusation
for which he stood responsible. T have not space to give here the dis
cussion which followed. Those who wish can find the case clearly stated
in Young's American States-man, page 442, &c., &c. The result certain-
ly'was, that Mr. Adams showed no grounds, even for suspicion, of what
he charged ; and that, even if there had been some foundation for hrs
opinion, it referred to an earlier date, and to other individuals, and
could not, by any show of fact, reason', or logic, be connected with the
Hartford Convention. Indeed, no person can now read the controversy
referred to, without coming to this obvious conclusion. It will be re
membered, in confirmation of this, that John Henry, the British agent,
sent for the purpose of seducing the Boston federalists, by the British
governor, Craig, never found an individual to whom he dared even to
open his business !

At all events, such was the shock of public feelings, caused by the
disclosure of Mr. Adams's charge made to Jefferson, that for a long
time, when he walked the streets of Boston, which he occasionally vis
ited, he was generally passed without being spoken to, even by his for
mer acquaintances. The resentment at last subsided, but he never
recovered the full confidence of the people of Massachusetts : they were
content, however, in view of his great merits, to let the matter pass
into oblivion. It is only in obedience to the call of history that I write
these facts.

* This individual was William Plumer, a Senator from New Hamp
shire, who stated that in 1808 and 1804, he was himself in favor of

16 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

and speak from their very graves. Sons, brothers, rel
atives, associates — including some of the first men in
the United States — indignantly denied, in behalf of
those for whom they had a right to speak, the impu
tations thus cast upon them. No fair-minded man
can read the discussion now, and fail to see that Mr.
Adams either invented his story — which, however,
is by no means to be presumed — or that, according
to the peculiar structure of his mind, having become
hostile to the federal leaders in Massachusetts, he
really thought he saw evidences of mischief in events
which, fairly viewed, furnished not the slightest
ground pven for suspicion.

Thus, as I think, this foundation, this beginning of
the idea that the Hartford Convention originated in
treasonable designs on the part of its members, is
shown to be absolutely groundless. Not one particle
of evidence, calculated to satisfy an honest inquirer
after truth, has ever been adduced to sustain the
charge. The investigation has been in the highest
degree inquisitorial : it was deemed vital to the in
terests of the democratic party to prove, to estab
lish this allegation of treason. Public documents,
newspaper articles, private correspondence, personal

forming a separate government for New England, but he abandoned
these ideas, and used his influence against them, when, as he says, they
were revived in 1809 and 1812. He, too, underwent a close examina
tion, and it appeared that he was unable to produce any reliable evi
dence whatever, that any plot for disunion was formed, or that any in
dividual, connected with the Hartford Convention, countenanced such
a scheme. See Young's Amer. Statesman, p. 455, &c.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 17

intercourse — all have been subjected to the rack
and the thumb-screw. The question has been
pushed to the conscience of an individual member
of the Convention, and he has been called to testify,
on oath, as to the origin and intentions of that as
sembly. Its journal, declared to contain every act,
every motion, every suggestion, that took place,
has been published ; and now — after forty years
of discussion, thus urged by hostile parties — sober
history is compelled to say, that not a public docu
ment, not a private letter, not a speech, not an act,
secret or open, has been brought to light, which
proves, or tends to prove, the treasonable origin of
the Hartford Convention !

The charge of treason is a serious one : so far
as it may have a just foundation, it is fatal to per
sonal character : it is a stain upon the State to which
it attaches : it is a discredit to human nature, espe
cially in a country like ours, and in a case like that
which we are discussing. It should therefore not be
made — surely it should not be maintained — unless
upon positive, undeniable proof. It should not rest
for its defense upon partisan malice, or that inhe
rent littleness which teaches base minds to accept
suspicion as conclusive evidence of what they be
lieve, only because it coincides with their evil
thoughts. While, therefore, there seems to be no
proof of the alleged treasonable origin of the Hart
ford Convention — I am able to do more than can-

18 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

dor demands, and I here present you with direct
testimony from a source that will not be impugned
or discredited, showing that the said Convention origi
nated with the people and from the circumstances of
the times, and not with conspirators, and that its ob
jects were just, proper, patriotic. I shall hereafter
call upon you to admit, that the proceedings of the
Convention were in accordance with this its lawful
and laudable origin.

I now ask your candid attention to the following
statement, made some years after the Convention,
by Noah Webster* — a man perhaps as universally

* It is certainly not necessary for me to write the biography or cer
tify to the character of Noah Webster : these have been carried all over
our country by his Spelling-book and his Dictionary, erecting monu
ments of gratitude in the hearts of the millions whom he has taught
to read, and the millions whom he still teaches, in the perfect use of
our language. It has been said, and with much truth, that he has held
communion with more minds than any other author of modern times.
His learning, his assiduity, his piety, his patriotism, were the ground
work of these successful and beneficent labors. It is the privilege of a
great and good man to speak, and when he speaks, to be listened to.
The passage here quoted is comprised in his " Collection of Essays,"
published in 1843 : it was written with a sincere and earnest purpose,
and it seems no more than due to truth and the justice of logic, to re
ceive it as conclusive proof of the facts it asserts.

Mr. Webster, as is well known, was a native of Hartford, Conn., and
was born in Oct. 1758. Among his classmates at Yale College were Joel
Barlow, Oliver Wolcott, Uriah Tracy, Zepheniah Swift, and other meu
of eminence. His life was spent in various literary pursuits. I knew
him well, and must mention an incident respecting him, still fresh in
my memory. In the summer of 1824, 1 was in Paris, and staying at the
Hotel Montmorency. One morning, at an early hour, I entered the court
of the hotel, and on the opposite side, I saw a tall, slender form, with a
black coat, black small- clothes, black silk stockings, moving back and
forth, with its hands behind it, and evidently in a state of meditation.
It was a curious, quaint, Connecticut looking apparition, strangely in
contrast to the prevailing forms and aspects in this gay metropolis. I

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 19

known and esteemed as any other in our history.
He testifies to facts within his own knowledge, and
surely no one will deny that, to this extent, he is a
competent and credible -witness.

Few transactions of the federalists, during the early periods
of our government, excited so much the angry passions of their
opposers as the Hartford Convention — so called — during the
presidency of Mr. Madison. As I was present at the first meet
ing of the gentlemen who suggested such a convention ; as I
was a member of the House of Representatives in Massachusetts
when the resolve was passed for appointing the delegates, I ad
vocated that re?olve ; and further, as I have copies of the doc
uments, which no other person may have preserved, it seems to
be incumbent on me to present to the public the real facts in
regard to the origin of the measure, which have been vilely fal
sified and misrepresented.

After the War of 1812 had continued two years, our public
affairs were reduced to a deplorable condition. The troops of
the United States, intended for defending the seacoast, had been
withdrawn to carry on the war in Canada ; a British squadron
was stationed in the Sound to prevent the escape of a frigate
from the harbor of New London, and to intercept our coasting-
trade ; one town in Maine was in possession of the British
forces ; the banks south of New England had all suspended the
payment of specie; our shipping lay in our harbors, embargoed,
dismantled, and perishing; the treasury of the United States
was exhausted to the last cent ; and a general gloom was spread
over the country.

In this condition of affairs, a number of gentlemen, in North-
said to myself— " If it were possible, I should say that was Noah Web
ster !" I went up to him, and found it was indeed he. At the ago
of sixty-six, he had come to Europe to perfect his Dictionary ! It
is interesting to know that such tenacity of purpose, such persistency,
such courage, were combined with all the refined and amiable qual
ities which dignify and embellish domestic and private life.

20 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

ampton, in Massachusetts, after consultation, determined to in
vite some of the principal inhabitants of the three counties on
the river, formerly composing the old county of Hampshire, to
meet and consider whether any measure could be taken to arrest
the continuance of the war, and provide for the public safety.
In pursuance of this determination, a circular letter was ad
dressed to several gentlemen in the three counties, requesting
them to meet at Northampton. The following is a copy of tho
letter :

NOETHAMPTON, Jan. 5, 1814.

Sir: In consequence of the alarming state of our public affairs, and
the doubts which have existed as to the correct course to be pursued
by the friends of peace, it has been thought advisable by a number of
gentlemen in this vicinity, who have consulted together on the subject,
that a meeting should be called of some few of the most discreet and
intelligent inhabitants of the old county of Hampshire, for the purpose
of a free and dispassionate discussion touching our public concerns.
The legislature will soon be in session, and would probably be gratified
with a knowledge of the feelings and wishes of the people ; and should
the gentlemen who may be assembled recommend any course to be pur
sued by our fellow-citizens, for the more distinct expression of the pub
lic sentiment, it is necessary the proposed meeting should be called a*
an early day.

We have therefore ventured to propose that it should be held at Col.
Chapman's, in this town, on Wednesday, the 19th day of January cur
rent, at 12 o'clock in the forenoon, and earnestly request your attend
ance at the above time and place for the purpose before stated.
With much respect, I am, sir, your obedient servant,

JOSEPH LYMAN.

In compliance with the request in this letter, several gentle
men met at Northampton, on the day appointed, and after a free
conversation on the subject of public affairs, agreed to send to
the several towns in the three counties on the river, the follow
ing circular address :

Sir: The multiplied evils in which the United States have been in
volved by the measures of the late and present administrations, are
subjects of general complaint, and in the opinion of our wisest states
men call for some effectual remedy. His excellency, the Governor of
the Commonwealth, in his address to the General Court, at the last and

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTTCAL, ETC. 21

present session, has stated, in temperate, but clear and decided lan
guage, his opinion of the injustice of the present war, and intimated
that measures ought to be adopted by the legislature to bring it to a
speedy close. He also calls the attention of the legislature to some
measures of the general government, which are believed to be uncon
stitutional. In all the measures of the general government, the peo
ple of the United States have a common concern, but there are some
laws and regulations, which call more particularly for the attention of
the Northern States, and are deeply interesting to the people of this
Commonwealth. Feeling this interest, as it respects the present and
future generations, a number of gentlemen from various towns in the
old county of Hampshire, have met and conferred on the subject, and
upon full conviction that the evils we suffer are not wholly of a tempo
rary nature, springing from the war, but some of them of a permanent
character, resulting from a perverse construction of the Constitution of
the United States, we have thought it a duty we owe to our country, to
invite the attention of the good people of the counties of Hampshire,
Hampden, and Franklin, to the radical causes of these evils.

We know indeed that a negotiation for peace has been recently set
on foot, and peace will remove many public evils. It is an event we
ardently desire. But when we consider how often the people of the
country have been disappointed in their expectations of peace, and of
wise measures ; and when we consider the terms which our adminis
tration has hitherto demanded, some of which, it is certain, can not be
obtained, and some of which, in the opinion of able statesmen, ought
not to be insisted upon, we confess our hopes of a speedy peace are
not very sanguine.

But still, a very serious question occurs, whether, without an amend
ment of the Federal Constitution, the northern and commercial States
can enjoy the advantages to which their wealth, strength, and white
population justly entitle them. By means of the representation of
slaves, the Southern States have an influence in our national councils
altogether disproportionate to their wealth, strength, and resources ; and
we presume it to be a fact capable of demonstration, that for about twen
ty years past the United States have been governed by a representation
of about two-fifths of the actual property of the country.

In addition to this, the creation of new States in the South, and out
of the original limits of the United States, has increased the southern
interest, which has appeared so hostile to the peace and commercial
prosperity of the Northern States. This power assumed by Congress
of bringing into the Union new States, not comprehended within the
territory of the United States at the time of the federal compact, is
deemed arbitrary, unjust, and dangerous, and a direct infringement of
the Constitution. This is a power which may hereafter be extended, and
the evil will not cease with the establishment of peace. We would ask,
then, ought the Northern States to acquiesce in the exercise of this

22 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

power ? To what consequences would it lead ? How can the people of
the Northern States answer to themselves and to their posterity for an
acquiescence in the exercise of this power, that augments an influence
already destructive of our prosperity, and will in time annihilate the
best interests of the northern people ?

There are other measures of the general government, which, we ap
prehend, ought to excite serious alarm. The power assumed to lay a
permanent embargo appears not to be constitutional, but an encroach
ment on the rights of our citizens, which calls for decided opposition.
It is a power, we believe, never before exercised by a commercial na
tion ; and how can the Northern States, which are habitually commer
cial, and whose active foreign trade is so necessarily connected with the
interest of the farmer and mechanic, sleep in tranquillity under such a
violent infringement of their rights? But this is not all. The late act
imposing an embargo is subversive of the first principles of civil lib
erty. The trade coastwise between different ports in the same State is
arbitrarily and unconstitutionally prohibited, and the subordinate of
fices of government are vested with powers altogether inconsistent with
our republican institutions. It arms the President and his agents with
complete control of persons and property, and authorizes the employ
ment of military force to carry its extraordinary provisions into execu
tion.

We forbear to enumerate all the measures of the federal government
which we consider as violations of the Constitution, and encroachments
upon the rights of the people, and which bear particularly hard upon
the commercial people of the North. But we would invite our fellow-
citizens to consider whether peace will remedy our public evils, without
some amendments of the Constitution, which shall secure to the North
ern States their due weight and influence in our national councils.

The Northern States acceded to the representation of slaves as a mat
ter of compromise, upon the express stipulation in the Constitution that
they should be protected in the enjoyment of their commercial rights.
These stipulations have been repeatedly violated ; and it can not be ex
pected that the Northern States should be willing to bear their portion
of the burdens of the federal government without enjoying the benefits
stipulated.

If our fellow-citizens should concur with us in opinion, we would
suggest whether it would not be expedient for the people in town meet
ings to address memorials to the General Court, at their present session,
petitioning that honorable body to propose a convention of all the North
ern and commercial States, by delegates to be appointed by their re
spective legislatures, to consult upon measures in concert, for procuring
such alterations in the federal Constitution as will give to the Northern
States a due proportion of representation, and secure them from the fu
ture exercise of powers injurious to their commercial interests ; or if the
General Court shall see fit, that they should pursue such other course,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 23

&t> they, in their wisdom, shall deem best calculated to effect these ob
jects. The measure is of such magnitude, that we apprehend a concert
of States will be useful and even necessary to procure the amendments
proposed ; and should the people of the several States concur in this
opinion, it would be expedient to act on the subject without delay.

\Yerequest you, sir, to consult with your friends on the subject, and,
if it should be thought advisable, to lay this communication before the
people of your town.

In behalf, and by direction of the gentlemen assembled,

JOSEPH LTMAN, Chairman.

In compliance with the request and suggestions in this circu
lar, many town meetings were held, and with great unanimity,
addresses and memorials were voted to be presented to the Gen
eral Court, stating the sufferings of the country in consequence
of the embargo, the war, and arbitrary restrictions on our coast
ing trade, with the violations of our constitutional rights, and
requesting the legislature to take measures for obtaining redress,
either by a convention of delegates from the Northern and com
mercial States, or by such other measures as they should judge
to be expedient.

These addresses and memorials were transmitted to the Gen
eral Court then in session, but as commissioners had been sent
to Europe for the purpose of negotiating a treaty of peace, it
was judged advisable not to have any action upon them till the
result of the negotiation should be known. But during the fol
lowing summer, no news of peace arrived ; and the distresses of
the country increasing, and the seacoast remaining defenseless,
Governor Strong summoned a special meeting of the legislature
in October, in which the petitions of the towns were taken into
consideration, and a resolve was passed appointing delegates to
a convention to be held in Hartford. The subsequent history
of that convention is known by their report.

The measure of resorting to a convention for the purpose of
arresting the evils of a bad administration, roused the jealousy
of the advocates of the war, and called forth the bitterest invec
tives. The convention was represented as a treasonable combi
nation, originating in Boston, for the purpose of dissolving tho

24 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Union. But citizens of Boston had no concern in originating
the proposal for a convention ; it was wholly the project of the
people in old Hampshire county — as respectable and patriotic
republicans as ever trod the soil of a free country. The citizens
who first ' assembled in Northampton, convened under the
authority of the Mil of rights, which declares that the people
have a right to meet in a peaceable manner and consult for
the public safety. The citizens had the same right then to
meet in convention as they have now ; the distresses of the
country demanded extraordinary measures for redress; the
thought of dissolving the Union never entered into the head of
any of the projectors, or of the members of the Convention ;
the gentlemen who composed it, for talents and patriotism have
never been surpassed by any assembly in the United States, and'
beyond a question the appointment of the Hartford Convention
had a very favorable effect in hastening the conclusion of a treaty
of peace.

All the reports which have been circulated respecting the
evil designs of that Convention, I know to be the foulest mis
representations. Indeed, respecting the views of the disciples
of Washington and the supporters of his policy, many, and prob
ably most of the people of the United States in this generation,
are made to believe far more falsehood than truth. I speak of
facts within my own personal knowledge. We may well say
with the prophet — " Truth is fallen in the street, and equity can
not enter." Party spirit produces an unwholesome zeal to de
preciate one class of men for the purpose of exalting another. It
becomes rampant in propagating slander, which engenders con
tempt for personal worth and superior excellence ; it blunts the
sensibility of men to injured reputation ; impairs a sense of
honor ; banishes the charities of life ; debases the moral sense of
the community ; weakens the motives that prompt men to aim
at high attainments and patriotic achievements ; degrades na
tional character, and exposes it to the scorn of the civilized
world.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIGAL, ETC. 25

Such is the testimony — direct, positive, documen
tary — of ISToah Webster, as to the origin of the Hart
ford Convention.* This, be it remembered, is evidence
furnished by one outside of that assembly : let me
now present you with the testimony of Roger Minot
Sherman — a member of that body, and a worthy
bearer of one of the most honored names in Ameri
can history.

[From the Norwalk Gazette, January, 1831.]
To the Editor of the Gazette:

Previous to the trial of Whitman Mead, on the charge of libel,
of which you gave a brief notice in your last number, the pris-

* This statement, on the part of Mr. Webster, does not exclude the
supposition that the idea of a convention of the New England States
may have been previously suggested by others. Such a thing was very
likely to occur to many minds, inasmuch as New England had been
accustomed, from time immemorial, to hold conventions, in periods
of trouble and anxiety. His testimony, however, shows clearly that
the actual, efficient movement which resulted in the Hartford Conven
tion, originated, as he states, with the citizens of Hampshire county.
Other testimony shows that some prominent federalists did not at first
favor it, and only yielded at last to a feeling of prudence, in following
this lead of the people.

The following letter from Harrison Gray Otis to Mrs. Willard, writ
ten in reply to a request from her, for information on the subject, will
be seen to correspond with Mr. Webster's statement, and also with the
proceedings of the Convention, and all other known facts relating to it,
in such a manner as to satisfy every honest mind of its truth.

"The Hartford Convention, far from being the original contrivance
of a cabal for any purpose of faction or disunion, was a result growing,
by natural consequences, out of existing circumstances. More than a
year previous to its institution, a convention was simultaneously called
for by the people in their town meetings, in all parts of Massachusetts.
Petitions to that effect were accumulated on the tables of the legislative
chamber. They were postponed for twelve months by the influence
of those who now sustain the odium of the measure. The adoption of
it was the consequence, not the source of a popular sentiment ; and it
was intended by those who voted for it, as a safety-valve, by which th«

VOL. II.— 2

26 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

oner moved the Court for a subpoena, to Mr. Sherman, of Fair-
field, Mr. Goddard, of Norwich, and others, as witnesses hi
his behalf. It was allowed by the Court, and was served on
Mr. Sherman, but could not be, seasonably, on Mr. Goddard, on
account of the lateness of his application. One of the articles
charged as libellous, compared a recent political meeting at Hart
ford with the Hartford Convention, and the prisoner supposed
that a full development of the proceedings of that Convention
would furnish a legal vindication of the article in question. With
a view to such development, he wished the testimony of the gen
tlemen above named. At the instance of the prisoner, Mr. Sher
man testified on the trial of the case, and the inclosed paper con
tains his testimony, exact in substance, and very nearly in his
language — which you are at liberty to publish. — [The trial took
place at Fairfield, Connecticut, the place of Mr. Sherman's resi
dence, in January, 1831.J

State of Connecticut, )
vs. >

Whitman Mead. J lion. Roger Minot Sliermarfs Testimony.

Question by the Prisoner. What was the nature and object of the
Hartford Convention ?

Answer. I was a member of that Convention. It met on the 15th of
December, 1814. The United States were then at war with Great Brit
ain. They had, in their forts and armies, twenty-seven thousand ef
fective men : of these about thirteen hundred only were employed in
New England. The war had been in operation two years and a half.
We had a seacoast of almost seven hundred miles to protect, and with
the exception of about thirteen hundred men, had the aid of no mili
tary force from the United States. By internal taxes, all others having
become unproductive by reason of the war, the national government
raised large sums from the people within our territory. Direct taxation
was the only resource of the State governments, and this had been car
ried to as great an extreme in Connecticut as could be sustained. The
banks, which furnished all our currency, either withheld their accom
modations or stopped payment, and the people were embarrassed by a
general stagnation of business. Powerful fleets and armies lay off our

steam arising from the fermentation of the times might escape, not as
a boiler by which it is generated." (See WittarcPs History of the United
States, p. 851.)

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 2/

coasts, and were making or threatening invasions in all parts of our de
fenseless sea-board. Commodore Decatur, with his squadron, had taken
refuge in the waters of Connecticut, and attracted a powerful concentra
tion of the enemy's forces on our borders. Castine, if I mistake not,
and some other parts of the territory of Massachusetts, had fallen into
the hands of the British. The New England States, under all these dis
advantages, were obliged to protect themselves by their own militia, at
their own expense. The expenses of Connecticut greatly exceeded our
resources. The duration of the war could not be foreseen, and oui
credit was exhausted. Attempts were made to borrow money, but with
out any adequate success. The national Constitution prohibited the
emission of bills of credit. In this extremity, while the legislature was
in session at New Haven, in October, 1814, a communication was re
ceived from the legislature of Massachusetts, proposing a convention of
delegates from the New England States, to consult on the adoption of
measures for their common safety. This communication was referred
to a joint committee of both houses. General Henry Champion and
myself were appointed from the Upper House. He was chairman of the
committee. I drew the report, recommending a compliance with the
proposal made by the State of Massachusetts, and assigning the reasons
at length. This report was published by order of the legislature, and
extensively circulated in the newspapers of this and other States. Seven
delegates were appointed to represent the Convention. As soon as it
was organized, Mr. Otis, a delegate from Massachusetts, proposed, after
some prefatory remarks, that it should be recommended to our several
legislatures to present a petition to the Congress of the United States,
praying that they would consent that the New England States, or so
many of them as should agree together for that purpose, might unite
in defending themselves against the public enemy ; that so much of the
national revenue as should be collected in these States, should be ap
propriated to the expense of that defense ; that the amount so appro
priated should be credited to the United States ; and that the United
States should agree to pay whatever should be expended beyond that
amount. This proposal was approved by the Convention. The same
views had been stated here before the meeting of the delegates. By
the Constitution of the United States, no such compact for mutual de
fense could be formed, without the consent of Congress. By thus aug
menting our immediate resources, and obtaining the national guaranty
that the expenses of the war, to be increased by the States thus uniting,
should be ultimately paid out of the national treasury, it was supposed
that our credit, as well as our present pecuniary resources, would be
enhanced. A debate was had in the Convention as to certain amend
ments to the Constitution of the United States, to be proposed for adop
tion by the State legislatures. One was, that Congress should not have
power to declare war without the concurrence of two-thirds of both
houses. I can not, from recollection, detail the proposed amendments ;

28 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

but they appear on the printed report of the Convention, of which I
have a copy at my office, which the prisoner may use on the trial, if he
pleases. A committee, of whom I was one, was appointed by the Con
vention to draw up that report to present to their respective legislatures.
The proposal of Mr. Otis was adopted with little variation. This report
was immediately printed by order of the Convention, and was circulated
throughout the country.

Among other things, as may be seen by that report, it was recom
mended to the legislatures represented in the Convention, to adopt
measures to protect their citizens from such conscriptions or impress
ments as were not authorized by the Constitution of the United States.
This resolution originated from a project of the then Secretary of War,
which I believe was not adopted by Congress. The secretary of the
Convention kept a journal of their proceedings. This, as I understand,
was deposited by Mr. Cabot, the President, in the office of the Secretary
of State of Massachusetts, and a copy transmitted to Washington, and
lodged in the office of the Secretary of State of the United States. It
was afterward published in certain newspapers. I saw it in the Ameri
can Mercury, a newspaper published at Plartford, by Mr. Babcock. The
legislatures of Massachusetts and Connecticut, pursuant to the recom
mendation of the Convention, sent a delegation to Washington, to pre
sent their respective petitions to the Congress of the United States. The
gentlemen sent from Connecticut were Mr. Terry, Mr. Goddard, and, I
think, Mr. Dwight. On their arrival, the Treaty of Peace, concluded at
Ghent, reached the national government, and further measures became
unnecessary.

This is an outline of the origin and proceedings of the Hartford Con
vention. There was not, according to my best recollection, a single mo
tion, resolution, or subject of debate, but what appears in the printed
journal or report. If any further particulars are requested, I will state
them.

Question by tlie Prisoner. Was it not an object of the Convention to
embarrass and paralyze the government of the United States in the
prosecution of the war with Great Britain ?

Answer. It was not. Nothing of the kind was done or entertained
by the Convention, or, so far as I know or believe, by those by whom it
was originated. On the contrary, its principal object was a more effectual
co-operation in that war, as to the defense of the New England States.

Question by the Prisoner. Has not that Convention been generally re
puted in the United States to be treasonable ?

Answer. Much has been said and published to that effect, but with
out the least foundation. I believe I know their proceedings perfectly ;
and that every measure, done or proposed, has been published, to the
world. No one act has ever been pointed out, to my knowledge, as in
consistent with their obligations to the United States, nor was any such
act ever contemplated by them.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTTCAL, ETC. 29

Here is the testimony of a great and good man — a
member of the Convention — under oath. Who will
venture to gainsay it ? Certainly no individual who
feels the claims of truth, and appreciates the requi
sitions of logic, unless he is armed with proofs, clear,
indisputable, demonstrative ; he must bring facts
sufficient to destroy the direct testimony of such
men as Noah Webster and Eoger M. Sherman, and,
indeed, a cloud of other witnesses of equal weight
and responsibility.

It seems to me that every candid mind, upon these
statements, will be constrained to admit that the Con
vention thus originated in public necessity, and noti»
treason ; I think the additional evidence I am about
to present will satisfy you that their proceedings were
in harmony with the wise and worthy motives that
brought the members together.

If you look into certain partisan histories of the
times, you might be led to suppose that on the day
of the gathering of the Convention at Hartford — the
15th of December, 1814 — the heavens and the earth
were clothed in black ; that the public mind was filled
with universal gloom ; that the bells — tremulous with
horror — tolled in funereal chimes ; that the flag of the
country everywhere was at half-mast ; and that the
whole American army marched with muffled drums
and inverted arms, and all this in token of the qua
king terror of the public mind, at the ominous gath-
eri ng of a committee of some two dozen mild, respect-

30 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

able, gray-haired old gentlemen, mostly appointed
bj the legislatures of Massachusetts, Connecticut,
and Rhode Island, to investigate and report upon
the state of public affairs ! Such, I recollect, was the
picture of Hartford, that was circulated over the
country by the democratic papers* remote from the

* The following is from the American Mercury, the democratic or
gan at Hartford — Dec. 18, 1815, a year after the Convention. There
can he little doubt that, at the outset, many of the democrats really felt
that the Convention meditated treason. I have already shown that the
leaders of democracy had been made, by the revelations of John Q.
Adams, to suspect the northern federalists ; and there is no doubt
that Madison and his cabinet, for a time, apprehended that the Hart
ford Convention was to be the fulfillment of Adams's prediction. But
the maledictions here poured out by the Mercury — a year after the gath
ering of the Convention, and when its innocence, to say the least, was
universally known and understood — were mere electioneering devices.
They are interesting, however, as showing the means by which the
obstinate prejudice against the Convention was wrought into the minds
of the mass of the democratic party.

" The fifteenth of December is an epoch in the history of America
which can never be passed over by Republicans, without mingled emo
tions of regret and exultation : of regret, that we have among us ' men
— freeborn men — men born, nursed, and brought up by our firesides — •
Americans — American citizens,' who are so depraved, so wicked, as to
aim a dagger at the vitals of their already bleeding country, and to at
tempt to subvert the liberties of the people ; of exultation, that the grand
designs of these hellish conspirators have been frustrated with infamy,
and that the Union has triumphed over their mischievous machinations !

" Impressed with these sentiments, the Republicans of Hartford, on
Friday last (being the day of the first meeting of the Convention), dis
played the flag of the Union at half-mast during the early part of the
day, as expressive of their sorrow for the depravity of those, who, one
year since, were plotting in our city, in conjunction with Britain, the
destruction of the liberties of the Republic. In the afternoon, the flag
was raised to the masthead, as emblematical of the complete discom
fiture of their designs, and the triumph of the Constitution. In the
rueful countenance of the federalists, it was plain to discover the morti
fication and chagrin which they experienced. They say, let us bury in
oblivion's dark bastile all bitter recollection ! But so long as New Eng
land is cursed with federal rulers, till she emerges from the darkness

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 81

scene of action. The whole is very well reflected in
the inspired pages of Charles Jared Ingersoll,* who
may be considered as the Jeremiah of democracy, for
this period of our history. He seems to have regarded
himself as specially raised up to prophesy against
New England. " The sin of Judah"— that is, of fed
eralism — he has written " with a pen of iron," though
not "with the point of a diamond."

Now I perfectly well remember the day of the
gathering of the Convention.! There was in the city

which has for years enveloped her, till republicanism reigns triumph
ant throughout New England (which we trust in God is close at hand),
it becomes the imperious duty of Republicans to hold up to the con
tempt of the people, their wicked and nefarious designs. * * *

"We think it a duty we owe to our country, to publish annually the
names of those who composed the ' Hartford Convention,' that they may
never be forgotten." Here follows a list of the names.

Not only the Hartford Mercury, but the Boston Patriot, and probably
other democratic journals, made a similar pledge to hold up to eternal
disgrace this black list of conspirators. All this was, however, a mere
electioneering game, and after two or three years, the pledge was for
gotten.

* " Historical Sketch of the Second War between the United States and
G-reat Britain, by Charles Jared Ingersoll."

t The following are the names of the members of the so-called Hart
ford Convention : those from Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode
Island were appointed from the State legislatures; those from New
Hampshire, by county conventions ; the delegate from Vermont was
chosen by persons in the county of Windham. These were all appoint
ed lifor the purpose of devising and recommending such measures for the
safety and welfare of these States as may be consistent with our obligations
as members of the National Union"

From Massachusetts — George . Cabot, Nathan* Dane, William «Pres-
cott, Harrison, Gray Otis, Timothy Bigelow, Joshua .Thomas, Samuel
Sumnei* Wilde, Joseph Lyman, Stephen "Longfellow, Jr., Daniel'Waldo,
HodijiihJ3aylies, George Bliss.

From Connecticut — Chauucey Goodrich, John Treadwell, James Hill-
house, Zephaniah" Swift, Nathaniel Smith, Calvin Goddard, Roger M.
Sherman.

32

a small squad of United States recruits — I think some
two dozen in number. These, assisted no doubt by
others, ran up the American flag at their rendezvous,
with the British flag at half-mast, beneath it. They
also — these two dozen, more or less — marched through
the streets with reversed arms and muffled drums. A
few persons, I believe, got hold of the bell-rope of
the Baptist meeting-house, and rang a funereal chime.
All this — chiefly the work of the rabble — was the
scoff of the great body of the people ; nevertheless,
it was reported in the democratic papers abroad, as
if some black and mighty portent had signalized the
arrival of the Convention. The simple truth was,
that the six and twenty gray-haired men — legislators,
senators, judges — honored for long years of service —
came quietly into town, and were welcomed by the
mass of the citizens, according to their standing and
their mission, with respect, esteem, and confidence.

Let us take a sketch of what followed from the
prophet Jared : " On the 15th of December, 1814,
with excited sentiments of apprehension, mingled
approval and derision, the inhabitants of Hartford
awaited the nefandous Convention, which takes its
bad name from that quiet town." " One of their
number, Chauncey Goodrich, was mayor of Hartford,
by whose arrangements ike Convention was .disposed of

From Rhode Island — Daniel* Lyman, jSainuel -Ward, Ed ward 'Man-
ton, Benjamin-Hazard. ; # .•••%:-.
From New Hampshire — Benjamin West, Mills Olcott.
From Vermont— William Hall, Jr.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 33

in the retirement of the second story of an isolated stone
"building, in which the little State Senate or Council sat,
when, in rotation, Hartford was the seat of government.
Locking themselves up stairs, there, in awfully obscure
concealment, for three weeks, twice every day, except Sun
day, Christmas and New Year*s-day, they were continu
ally in conclave,"11 &c.

"What an. accumulation of horrors ! Tell me, my
dear C . . . ., does not your hair bristle at the grisly
picture ? It indeed sounds like a tale of the Inqui
sition. What a pity it is to spoil it ! And yet, this
infernal Rembrandt coloring — this violent contrast of
light and shade — is wholly imaginary. The Con
vention met in the council-chamber of the State-
house, which the gazetteers tell us — and tell us truly
— is a very handsome building. It is in the center
of the city, and the most prominent edifice in the
place. The room in which they met is still the
senate-chamber, and is neither isolated nor obscure :
on the contrary, it is one of the best and most con
spicuous rooms in the building : at the time, it was
probably the finest public hall in the State.*

It is true that the Convention sat with closed doors,
as probably every similar convention had done be-

* The Hon. K. R. Hinman, the historian of Connecticut during the
Revolutionary period, and several years Secretary of State, once told me a
good anecdote in relation to this dark, dismal hiding-place of the " nefan-
dous" Convention. One day, a man from the South — I believe a South
Carolinian— some one doubtless who had been reading Ingersoll's his
tory, came into the office of the Secretary, and desired to be shown the
place where the Hartford Convention sat. Mr. Hinman accordingly

2*

34: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

fore. The State Council — in whose room the Con
vention met — had furnished this example from time
immemorial. The General Assembly of Connecticut
had always done the same, at periods of difficulty and
danger. The Convention that framed the Constitu
tion of the United States had done likewise. The
Continental Congress did the same, through the whole
period of the war of the Revolution. A great part
of the executive business of the United States Sen
ate is now done in secret session, and is never
known to the public. The archives of the State De
partment, at Washington, are under the lock and key
of the Executive. The legislature of every State has
the capacity to hold secret sessions, and nobody ques
tions their right to exercise it according to their dis
cretion. Both houses of Congress discussed, resolved
upon, and voted the war of 1812, in secret session !
And yet, what was useful, proper, and of good re
took him into the room. The stranger looked around with much curi
osity, and presently he saw Stuart's likeness of Washington — for in
this chamber is one of the most celebrated of the full-length portraits
of the Father of his Country.

The stranger started. "And was this picture here, when the Con
vention held its sittings?" said he.

" Yes, certainly," said the secretary.

"Well," replied the man — observing the high color which Stuart
had given to the countenance of Washington, in the picture — " well,
I'll be d d if he's got the blush off yet !"

This is a sharp joke ; but yet, it is natural to ask — if Washington's
picture should blush for the Hartford Convention — which above all
things advocated the preservation of the Union — what should it have
done in the presence of that Convention in South Carolina, November,
1832, which resulted in an open, avowed opposition to the Union, and
has perhaps laid the foundation for its overthrow, in establishing the
doctrine of Secession ?

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 35

port in all other similar bodies, was "nefandous" in
the Hartford Convention ! So saith Jared, the his
torian, whose account seems to consist largely of the
prejudices and exaggerations of the democratic pa
pers of that day — raked together in one undigested
heap. As such it is amusing — nay, instructive — but
alas, how is history degraded, when such a mass of
incongruities assumes its sacred name !

I have told you that I was at this time living with
my uncle, Chauncey Goodrich — then a member of the
Convention. His house, of course, became the fre
quent rendezvous of the other members, and here I
often saw them. On one occasion, in the evening,
they all met at his house, by invitation — the only
instance in which they partook of any similar festiv
ity. At this time, the other persons present, so far
as I recollect, were William Coleman,* editor of the

* William Coleman was a native of Massachusetts, and was born in
1766. He studied law, and settled at Greenfield about 1794, where he
erected a house, noted for its architectural beauty. Here he also edited
a newspaper. Buckingham — vol. ii. p. 319 — says that he was remarkable
for his vigor in skating, having passed in one evening from near Green
field to Northampton, a distance of about twenty miles. As I recol
lect him, he was a large man, of robust appearance, with a vigorous and
manly countenance. His nose was bony and prominent, and in con
nection with a strongly denned brow, gave his face an expression of
vigor and sagacity. His eye was gray, his hair light brown, and at the
time I speak of, was slightly grizzled. Pie removed to New York, where
he published some law books, and in 1801 (Nov. 16), founded the Eve
ning Post, which became a leading federal paper, and so continued for
many years. Its columns were distinguished for ability, as well in its
political discussions as its literary essays and criticisms. In general, ho
set a good example of dignity of style and gentlemanly decorum, though
1m was drawn into some violent altercations with Cheetham and Duane.
It is sufficient eulogy of Mr. Coleman to say that he enjoyed the con-

36 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

New York Evening Post, Theodore Dwight, sec
retary of the Convention, my cousin, Elizur Good
rich, now of Hartford, and myself. The majority of
the members were aged men, and marked not only
with the gravity of years, but of the positions which
they held in society — for some of them had been gov
ernors, some senators, some judges. I do not recol
lect ever to have seen an assemblage of more true
dignity in aspect, manner, and speech. They were
dressed, on the evening in question, somewhat in
the ancient costume — black coats, black silk waist
coats, black breeches, black silk stockings, black
shoes. I wonder that this universal black has not
been put into the indictment against them ! Perhaps
the silvery- whiteness of their heads — for the majority
were past fifty, several past sixty — may have pleaded
in extenuation of this sinister complexion of their dress.
The most imposing man among them, in personal
appearance, was George Cabot,* the president. He
was over six feet in height, broad-shouldered, and of
a manly step. His hair was white? — for he was past
sixty — his eye blue, his complexion slightly florid. He
seemed to me like Washington — as if the great man,

fidence of Hamilton, King, Jay, and other notabilities of that day, and
that he made the Evening Post worthy of the editorial successorship of
Leggett (1829) and of Bryant (1836).

* George Cabot waa a native of Salem, Mass., born in 1752. He was
originally a shipmaster, but he rose to various stations of eminence.
He became a senator of the United States, and in 1798 was appointed
the first Secretary of the Navy, but declined. His personal influence
in Boston was unbounded. He died in that city, 1823.

UEOROE CABOT. Vol. 2, p. 3ti.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 37

as painted by Stuart, had walked out of the canvas,
and lived and breathed among us. He was, in fact,
Washingtonian in his whole air and bearing, as was
proper for one who was Washington's friend, and
who had drunk deep at the same fountain — that of
the Revolution — of the spirit of truth, honor, and
patriotism. In aspect and general appearance, he
was strikingly dignified, and such was the effect of
his presence, that in a crowded room, and amid other
men of mark — when you once became conscious that
he was there, you could hardly forget it. You seem
ed always to see him — as the traveler in Switzerland
sees Mont Blanc towering above other mountains
around him, wherever he may be. And yet he was
easy and gracious in his manners, his countenance
wearing a calm but radiant cheerfulness, especially
when he spoke. He was celebrated for his conver
sational powers, and I often remarked that when he
began to converse, all eyes and ears turned toward
him, as if eager to catch the music of his voice and
the light of his mind. He came to my uncle's al
most every morning before the meeting of the Con
vention, and I have never felt more the power of
goodness and greatness, than in witnessing the inter
course between these two men.

The next person as to prominence, in the Massa
chusetts delegation, was Harrison Gray Otis,* then in

* Harrison Gray Otis, son of Samuel A. Otis, the first Secretary of
the Senate of the United States, was born in 1765, and died 1848. He

3?5 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

the zenith of his years and his fame. He had a name
honorable by tradition, and a position — social as well
as political — due to his great wealth, his eminent tal
ents, and his various accomplishments. He was
doubtless the most conspicuous political character in
New England — for the sun of Webster was but just
rising in the horizon. He was deemed ambitious,
and hence was regarded by the democrats as the
arch instigator of the traitorous Convention. Such
an opinion, however, shows the greatest ignorance of
his character and the actual state of things. Mr.
Otis was a far-seeing politician, and knew there was
no treason in the hearts of the people of New Eng
land : he stood at the highest point to which am
bition could lead him, and any step in that direction
must be downward. Besides, he was of the cau
tious, not the dashing school of statesmanship, as well
by constitution as training. To suppose him a plot
ter of treason, is to divest him of all his attributes —
inherent and conventional. It is, furthermore, his
torical and beyond dispute, that he was averse to the
Convention. By his influence, it was delayed, long
after it was proposed and almost clamored for by the

was one of the most eminent of the Massachusetts bar, even by the side
of Ames, Parsons, Lowell, and Gore. He succeeded Ames in Congress,
in 1797. In 1817, he became a senator of the United States. To learn
ing and vigor of intellect, he added great powers of oratory, captivating
alike to the simple and the refined. He held various other offices, and
iu these, discharged his duties with distinguished ability. His resi
dence was at Boston. He retained his mental faculties, his cheerfulness,
and his amenity of demeanor, to the last.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAI,, ETC. 39

people. He objected to being a member of it, and
only yielded at last, that he might use his influence
to secure to it a safe and tranquilizing direction.
At the very opening of the Convention, he signal
ized himself by proposing the safe and discreet meas
ures which were finally adopted. Hence, he always
felt, with a keen sense of injustice, the imputation
which long hung about him, as being the leader in a
treasonable enterprise.

The impression he made on my mind upon the oc
casion I am describing, was deep and lasting. He
had not the lofty Washingtonian dignity of George
Cabot, nor the grave suavity of Chauncey Goodrich ;
he was, in fact, of quite a different type — easy, pol
ished, courtly — passing from one individual to an
other, and carrying a line of light from countenance
to countenance, either by his playful wit or gracious
personal allusions. He seemed to know everybody,
and to be able to say to each precisely the most ap
propriate thing that could be said. He was one of the
handsomest men of his time ; his features being classi
cally cut, and still full of movement and expression.
To me — who had seen little of society beyond Connec
ticut, and accustomed therefore to the rather staid man
ners of public men — Mr. Otis was an object of strange,
yet admiring curiosity. I knew him well, some
years after and when I was more conversant with the
world, and he still seemed to me a very high exam
ple of the finished gentleman of the assiduous and

40 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

courtly school. He lowered himself, no doubt, in the
public estimation by his somewhat restive and quer
ulous — though masterly and conclusive — vindica
tions of the Convention; while all the other members,
conscious of rectitude, scorned to put themselves in
the attitude of defense. We may forgive what seemed
a weakness in Mr. Otis, while we must pay homage to
that dignity in his associates, which would not stoop
to ask in life, the justice which they knew posterity
must render them, in their graves.

Of the other members of the Massachusetts dele
gation, I have less distinct personal reminiscences.
Mr. Prescott, father of the historian,* and Mr. Long
fellow, f father of the poet — worthy, by their talents,
their virtues, and their position, of such descendants
— I only remember as two grave, respectable old
gentlemen, seeming, by a magic I did not then com
prehend, to extort from all around them peculiar

* William Prescott was a native of Pepperell, Mass., born 1762. His
father, Colonel Prescott, commanded at the battle of Bunker Hill. He
became one of the most eminent lawyers in the State, and filled various
public stations. Mr. Webster said of him at the time of his death, in
1844 : " No man in the community, during the last quarter of a centu
ry, felt himself too high, either from his position or his talents, to ask
counsel of Mr. Prescott."

t Stephen Longfellow, of Portland, Maine, was an eminent lawyer,
and ranked among the most distinguished and estimable citizens of New
England. He was noted for unsullied purity of life and character, an
inflexible devotion to his convictions, great powers of conversation,
and winning amenity of manners, always mingling an elevated piety
with a kindly charity to all other sects. While Maine was a part of
Massachusetts, he exercised great influence in the State: after the sep
aration, he was one of the leading men of this new member of the
Union. He died in 1849.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 41

marks of deference and respect. Since I have known
their history, I have ascertained the secret.*

One of the oldest, and in some respects the most re-

* The other members from Massachusetts were all eminent for their
virtues and their talents.

Few names in our history are more honorably remembered than that
of Nathan Dane. He was a native of Ipswich, Massachusetts, born in
1754. He was a lawyer of great eminence, and a statesman of distin
guished patriotism and wisdom. He was a member of Congress under
the Confederation, and was the framer of the famed ordinances of
17 8£, for the government of the territory of the United States north
west of the Ohio river ; an admirable code of law, by which the prin
ciples of free government, to the exclusion of slavery, were extended
to an immense region, and its political and moral interests secured on
a permanent basis. He published some useful works, and founded
a professorship of law in Harvard University. His life is a long record
of beneficent works. He died in Feb. 1835.

Timothy Bigelow was a learned, eloquent, and popular lawyer, born
in 1767, and died in 1821. For more than twenty years he was a member
of the Massachusetts legislature, and for eleven years he was Speaker
of its House of Representatives. His residence was at Medford. Mrs.
Abbott Lawrence was one of his daughters.

Joseph Lyman, of Northampton, was born in 1767, and died in 1847.
He was the person associated with Noah Webster and others, in the
first movement for the Hartford Convention, as previously noticed.
He held many important offices, and enjoyed, in an unbounded degree,
the confidence of the community. He was an eminently dignified and
handsome man, of the old school of manners, and mingling in his coun
tenance and demeanor a certain seriousness, with kindness and conde
scension, lie never failed to attend the polls, and deposited his fifty-
ninth ballot the year of his death !

Joshua Thomas, born 1751, and died 1821, held for many years the
office of Judge of Probate for the county of Plymouth.

Samuel Sumner Wilde, born 1771 and died 1855, was an eminent law
yer, and several years judge of the Supreme Court — the same in which
Parsons, Story, Sedgwick, and Sewall had officiated. He was a man
of unbending integrity, and the utmost dignity and purity of life. Ho
was the father-in-law of Caleb Gushing — the present Attorney-general
of the United States.

George Bliss, born 1764, died 1830, was a distinguished lawyer of
Springfield. He enjoyed in an eminent degree the respect and confi
dence of all who knew him.

Daniel Waldo was born in 1763 at Boston : he settled at Worcester

42 LETTEES — BIOGRAPHICAL,

markable member of the Convention, was Mr. West,*
of New Hampshire. I recollect him distinctly, partly
because of his saintly appearance, and partly because
of the terms of affection and respect in which my
uncle spoke of him. He, too, was often at our house,

and devoted himself to mercantile affairs with great success. He ac
quired in a high degree the confidence of the community around him.
He was distinguished for integrity, justice, and punctuality, in all the
affairs of life. He died in 1845.

Thomas Handyside Perkins, born in Boston, 1764, and died in 1854.
He was an eminent merchant of that city, and having amassed a large
fortune, was distinguished for his liberality. Several literary and char
itable institutions owe their existence to him. In person, he was a large
man, with a grave countenance, but with an expression indicative of his
large and generous heart.

Hodijah Baylies was born in 1757. He served during the Revolution
ary war, and was at one time aid to General Lincoln, and afterward to
Washington. He held various public offices, and was noted as com
bining, in a high degree, the Christian character with that of the gentle
man. He died in 1843.

The four members from Rhode Island were among the most respect
able citizens of that State.

Daniel Lyman was a native of Connecticut, born in 1776 and died in
1830. He served through the Revolutionary war, and rose to the rank
of major. He afterward settled in Rhode Island, became eminent as a
lawyer, and was finally chief-justice of the Supreme Court of that State.

Samuel Ward, son of Gov. Ward, of that State, was born in and

died in . In the Revolution he was a soldier, and accompanied Ar
nold in his perilous march against Quebec. After the peace he devoted
himself to commerce. As a soldier, patriot, and citizen, his character
was without a stain.

Benjamin Hazard was among the ablest lawyers of his day, enjoying
the highest esteem for his private worth. He was very swarthy, with
long frizzled hair, and I particularly noticed him, among the other mem
bers, for the singularity of his appearance. He was often called by the
people of his neighborhood " Black Ben." He was born in 1776 and died
in 1841. He was elected to the Assembly of Rhode Island sixty-two times 1

Edward Manton was a merchant of Johnston, and distinguished for
his probity and moral worth. He was born in 1760 and died in 1820.

* Benjamin West was a native of Massachusetts, SOD of Rev. T.
West, and born in 1746. He was graduated at Harvard College, studied
law, and settled at Charlestown, N. H.} where he died, July 27, 1817

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 43

and seldom have I seen a man who commanded such
ready love and admiration. He was then sixty-eight
years old : his form tall but slender, his hair white,
long, and flowing, his countenance serene, his voice
full of feeling and melody. His appearance indica
ted the finest moral texture ; but when his mind was
turned to a subject of interest, his brow flashed with
tokens of that high intellectual power which distin
guished him. His character and his position were well
displayed in a single passage of his history : "He was
chosen a member of Congress under the old Confedera
tion ; a member of the convention which framed the
Constitution of his adopted State, and a member of
Congress under the Constitution ; he was appointed
Attorney -general and Judge of Probate, and yet all
these offices he refused, owing to his aversion to pub
lic life, and his sincere, unambitious love of domestic
peace and tranquillity." His great abilities, however,
were not hidden in a napkin. He devoted himself to
the practice of the law, which he pursued with eminent
success, for the space of thirty years. It was in the
evening of his days that he accepted his first prom
inent public station, and that was as member of the
Hartford Convention. This he did, under a convic
tion that it was a period of great difficulty and dan
ger, and he felt that duty called upon him to sacrifice
his private comfort to public exigencies. Who will

For a full and touching biography of him, see Knapp's Biographical
Sketches of Eminent Lawyers, Statesmen, &c., p. 245.

44 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

believe that man to have been a conspirator, or that
the people who designated him for this place were
traitors ?

As to the Connecticut members of the Convention,
I could easily gather up pages of eulogy. There are,
indeed, few such men now ; I am afraid that in this
age of demagogism, there are few who can compre
hend them. I shall, however, present you with brief
delineations of their lives and characters from the
sober records of the historian.

" At the head of the Connecticut delegation stood his honor,
Chauncey Goodrich,* whose blanched locks and noble features
had long been conspicuous in the halls of national legislation ; a
gentleman whose character is identified with truth and honor in
all parts of the Union ; a gentleman of whom Albert Gallatin
was wont to say, that when he endeavored to meet the argu
ments of his opponents, he was accustomed to select those of Mr.
Goodrich, as containing the entire strength of all that could be
said upon that side — feeling that if he could answer him, he
could maintain his cause; a man whom Jefferson — no mean
judge of intellectual strength — used playfully to say, ' That white-
headed senator from Connecticut is by far the most powerful
opponent I have, to my administration.'

" Next to him was James Hillhouse,t the great financier of the

* For a sketch of the life of Chauncey Goodrich, see page 526, vol. i.
of this work.

t James Hillhonse was one of the most remarkable men of his time.
He was born in 1754, entered upon the practice of the law, engaged in
the Revolutionary war, became a member of Congress, and was sixteen
years a senator. He possessed an iron frame, and his industry and de
votion to his duties knew no bounds. He usually slept but four or five
hours in twenty-four. His personal appearance was remarkable. He
was over six feet high, of a large bony frame : his complexion was
swarthy, and his eye black and keen. He was thought to have something

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 4:5

State, who found our School Fund in darkness, and left it in
light ; the scholar and the father, who superintended the early
culture of that poet-boy, and laid the foundation of that hright
and glorious intellect, which in the bowers of ' Sachem's Wood'
saw, as in a vision, the magnificent scenes of Ifadad, and re
ceived as guests in western groves, the spirits of oriental oracle
and song ; Hillhouse — the man of taste, who planted the New
Haven elms ; the native American, with Irish blood in his veins
— the man who, like Washington, never told a lie.

" John Treadwell* was the third delegate, whose life was filled

of the Indian in his physiognomy and his walk, and he humorously
favored this idea. He was once challenged by a Southerner, for some
thing uttered in debate, in the Senate. He accepted the challenge, but
added, that as the choice of weapons fell to him, he selected tomahawks !
He was full of wit, and it is said that one day, as he was standing on the
steps of the Capitol with Randolph, a drove of asses chanced to be
going by — these animals being then raised in Connecticut for the South.
"There are some of your constituents !" said Kandolph. "Yes," said
Hillhouse ; " they are going to be schoolmasters in Virginia !" This story
is sometimes told of Uriah Tracey, to whom, perhaps, it really belongs.

Hillhouse always scoffed at the abuse heaped upon the Hartford Con
vention. Several years after the meeting of this body, lie had some busi
ness at Boston, which required several advertisements in a newspaper.
These he had inserted in the Patriot — a democratic paper, which had
been furious against the Convention. When he went to pay the bill,
he desired to see the editor. Being introduced to him, he said — " Sir,
my name is Hillhouse, and I was a member of the Hartford Conven
tion. You inserted the names of the members for several years, and
promised to keep them in eternal remembrance. I am very proud of
having been a member of that body, and feel that 1 owe you a debt of
gratitude. So I have selected your paper as the object of my patronage.
I owe you sixteen dollars and sixty-seven cents, and there, sir, is the
money. I have to remark, however, that for several years you have
neglected your promise to keep us before the world." This led to a
hearty laugh, and the two gentlemen parted. The history of Connecti
cut is full of this man's good works. He died in 1832.

* John Treadwell, of Farmington, was born in 1745, and died in 1823.
He studied law, and afterward was employed for thirty years in public
stations, rising finally to the office of Governor of the State. He was a
man of learning, and received the title of LL.D. from Yale College. He
was distinguished as a consistent professor of religion, and a firm sup
porter of its interests. He was the first President of the American For-

46 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

with honors and usefulness." He was then on the verge of
threescore and ten, and the oldest man in the Convention.

"The fourth was Chief-justice Swift,* the first commentator
upon the laws of our little republic, of whom no lawyer in the
United States would dare to feign ignorance, lest he should put
at risk his professional reputation.

" Nathaniel Smithf was the fifth, whom the God of nature
chartered to be great by the divine prerogative of genius ; a
jurist wiser than the books ; whose words were so loaded with
convincing reasons that they struck an adversary to the earth
like blows dealt by a hand gauntleted in steel; to listen to
whom, when he spoke in the Convention, Harrison Gray Otis
turned back as he was leaving the chamber, and stood gazing in
silent admiration, unconscious of the flight of time.

"The sixth was Calvin Goddard,f who long enjoyed the repu-

eign Missionary Society, and for thirty years was deacon of the church
—thus mingling the humble with the higher offices of life, and dis
charging the duties of each with the most exemplary fidelity. In per
son, he was short and bulbous about the waist, with a certain air of
importance in his face and carriage. Some little weaknesses can be for
given in one whose life is so full of honors.

* Zephauiah Swift was born in 1759 ; having been a member of Con
gress, he accompanied Oliver Ellsworth, ambassador to France in 1798,
as his secretary. In 1801 he was appointed judge of the Superior Court,
and was chief-justice from 1806 to 1819. He was a large man, of strong
manly features ; in conversation he spoke rapidly, without grace of man
ner or expression, but with force and perspicuity. His mind was emi
nently fitted for juridical duties. He died while on a visit to Ohio in 1823.

t For a sketch of the life and character of Nathaniel Smith, see page
308, vol. i. of this work.

I Calvin Goddard was born 1768, and died 1842. He filled various
public offices, and was mayor of Norwich for seventeen years. It is
difficult to say which predominated, his learning, his wit, or his ame
nity. I chanced to be with him and Gen. Terry in the stage-coach from
New Haven to New York, when, in Febuary, 1815, they were proceed
ing to Washington, to carry the proceedings of the Convention. Gen.
Terry slept nearly all the way, nor could Mr. Goddard's ceaseless wit
arouse him. When they got to Washington, the news of peace had
just arrived, and their " occupation was gone." They experienced some
gibes, but it is said that Goddard paid back with compound interest.
No man was moie competent.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOT1CAL, ETC. 47

tation of being the most learned and successful lawyer east of
the Connecticut river : an upright judge, a wise counselor, an
honest man.

" Last, but not least of the Connecticut delegation, wa? Roger
Minot Sherman,* a profound metaphysician, a scholar equal to
the younger Adams, one of the principal oracles of the New
York city bar for the last twenty years of his life, who seemed
more fitly than any other man to represent the lawgiver, Roger
Ludlow, and to inhabit the town which he had planted, whose
level acres he had sown with the quick seeds of civil liberty, and
then left the up-springing crop to be harvested by the sickle of
his successor."

This is the verdict — not of the apologist, not of
the partisan — but of the historian, in a sober review
of the past, with all the light which time has thrown

* Eoger Minot Sherman, nephew of the celebrated Roger Sherman,
was a native of Woburn, Mass., and born in 1773. He established
himself as a lawyer at Fairfield, Conn., and rose to the first rank of his
profession. He was distinguished for acute logical powers, and great
elegance of diction — words and sentences seeming to flow from his lips
as if he were reading from the Spectator. He was a man of refined per
sonal appearance and manners ; tall, and stooping a little in his walk ;
deliberate in his movements and speech, indicating circumspection,
which was one of his characteristics. His countenance was pale and
thoughtful, his eye remarkable for a keen, penetrating expression.
Though a man of grave general aspect, he was not destitute of humor.
He was once traveling in Western Virginia, and stopping at a small tav
ern, was beset with questions by the landlord, as to where he came from,
whither he was going, &c. At last said Mr. Sherman — " Sit down, sir,
and I will tell you all about it." The landlord sat down. " Sir," said
he, " I am from the Blue Light State of Connecticut !" The landlord
stared. " I am deacon in a Calvinistic church." The landlord was evi
dently shocked. " I was a member of the Hartford Convention !" This
was too much for the democratic nerves of the landlord ; he .speedily
departed, and left his lodger to himself. Mr. Sherman filled various
offices, and in 1840, became judge of the Superior Court. To a mind at
once brilliant and profound, he added the embellishments of literature
and science and the graces of Christianity. He died Dec. 30, 1844.

48 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

upon the lives of those whom he thus character
izes.*1

And now, my dear C . . . ., let me ask you to look
at the Hartford Convention, through these Connec
ticut delegates — all grave and reverend seigniors —
one of them sixty-nine years of age, and having been
governor of the State ; one of them, at the time,
chief justice of the State ; another a judge of the Su
perior Court ; two of them grown gray in the Senate
of the United States : all past fifty, all distinguished
for prudence, caution, sobriety ; all of the Washington
school in politics, morals, manners, religion. Look at
these men, and then tell me if there was treason, con
spiracy, dismemberment of the Union, either in their
hearts, or the hearts of the people who elected them ?
If there be any thing holy in truth, any thing sacred
in justice, degrade not the one, desecrate not the
other, by calling these men traitors! Say rather
that their presence in the Hartford Convention is
proof — clear, conclusive, undeniable, in the utter
absence of all evidence to the contrary' — that it was
an assembly of patriots, chosen by a patriotic people,
wisely seeking the best good of the country. If this
be not so, then there is no value in a good name, no
ground for faith in human virtue. Treason is the
highest crime against society : is there not something
shocking to the universal sense of decency in char

* Hollister's History of Connecticut, vol. il p. 303.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 4:9

ging this upon men thus signalized for their virtues ?
Such perverse logic would make Judas a saint, and
the eleven true disciples, betrayers.

But I must leave discussion, and proceed with my
narrative. As the Convention sat with closed doors,
the world without, despite their eager curiosity, were
kept in general ignorance as to their proceedings.
There was a rumor, however, that Mr. Otis opened
the debate, and was followed, first by Chauncey Good
rich and then by Nathaniel Smith — the latter making
one of those masterly speeches for which he was re
nowned, and which shook even this assembly of great
men with emotions of surprise and admiration. The
first day's debate was said to have brought all minds
to a general agreement as to the course to be adopted
— that of mild and healing measures, calculated to
appease the irritated minds of their constituents, to
admonish the national government of the general feel
ing of danger and grievance, and thus to save the
country from an example either of popular outbreak
or organized resistance to the laws. Subsequent
events showed that these rumors were well founded.

While such was the course of things in the Con
vention, some curious scenes transpired without and
around it. I cannot do better, in order to give you
an idea of these, than to transcribe part of a letter,
which I recently received from a friend in Hartford,
to whom I had written for some details, to refresh
arid confirm my own recollections. This was hastily

VOL. II.— 3

50 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

written, and with no idea of its publication ; but it
is, nevertheless, graphic, and coming from an old
democrat, will be received as good authority for the
facts it presents, even by the contemners of the Con
vention and its federal supporters.

" Previous to the war, Captain Morgan recruited in Hartford
a company of light dragoons. Elijah Boardman was his lieu
tenant, and Owen Ranson — afterward Major Ranson — was cor
net. When war was declared, and an army was to be raised,
the first thing was to appoint officers, and the respectables —
that is, the federalists — being to a man opposed to the war, none
of them applied for commissions ; so that the administration
was compelled — nothing loth — to officer the army from the dem
ocrats. Having a great number of appointments to make, and
little time to examine the qualifications of the applicants, and, as
I have remarked, having only the democrats to select from, many
men received commissions who were hardly qualified to carry a
musket in the ranks. Among the appointments was a general
of brigade in the Vermont militia — Jonas Cutting, a boatman
on the Connecticut river. — who obtained his appointment of
colonel through the influence of J. and E. L . . . ., good demo
crats, for whom he boated. He was ordered to Hartford on
recruiting service, where he established the head-quarters of the
25th regiment. He was a rude, boorish, uncouth man, and re
ceived but little attention from the citizens generally, and none
from the respectables — the federalists : he was, however, suc
cessful in raising recruits. After a time he was sent to the lines,
and was succeeded by Lieutenant-colonel Jos. L. Smith, of Ber
lin — a large, handsome man, of some talents, but a good deal
of a fire-eater. He assumed the command at Hartford, but was
not kindly received by the federalists. There was in fact no
love lost between him and them.

u This brings us near the time of the Hartford Convention

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 51

the winter of 1814, preparatory to another campaign on the
frontier. A very considerable force of regular troops were in
cantonment in Hartford. The federalists, who were a large
majority, as you know, hated the democrats, denounced the
war, and detested the troops generally, and Lieutenant-colonel
Smith in particular — for he thought it a part of his duty to make
himself as odious to them as possible. His recruiting parties were
constantly parading the city, and monopolizing the sidewalks,
in all the pomp and circumstance of glorious war. With gun,
drum, trumpet, blunderbuss, and thunder, they crowded the
ladies into the gutters, frightened horses, and annoyed the cit
izens. Some of them called on Colonel Smith, as the com
manding officer, and begged of him, as a gentleman, to keep his
recruiting parties from Main-street — our principal avenue. I
need not say that by this time an intensely bitter feeling had
grown up between the two political parties, and the democrats
were overjoyed that Colonel S. took pains to show his hatred
and contempt for the anti-war party, and so they encouraged
him to persevere, and do his duty by flouting the feds, and in
raising recruits for the glorious war. So the more the citizens
requested him to desist, the more he would not.

" In this state of things, the city council assembled, and pass
ed and published an ordinance that no military parties should
be permitted to march on the sidewalks, but should confine them
selves to the streets. The democrats and Col. S. scouted the idea
that the council had the power to regulate the march of United
States troops, and so the troops persisted in this annoyance.
The Governor's Foot Guard, one hundred muskets strong, com
posed of our most respectable young men, and all federalists,
commanded by Nathaniel Terry, Esq., now prepared a quantity
of ball cartridges, which, with their arms, were deposited in
the old Hartford Bank. The men were required to be always
ready to act when necessary. The government recruits not
heeding the ordinance, Capt. Boardman and some other officers
and non-commissioned officers were arrested and imprisoned.

52 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

The United States troops, reinforced by all the out parties in
the neighboring towns, now came into the city, and completely
monopolized the streets by night and by day.

" The Superior Court was in session at this time, and each day
during the session, the military bands, with divers supernume
rary bass-drums, incessantly marched around the Courthouse
with so much din that the court was obliged to adjourn. This
was repeated daily, and matters had arrived at a terrible pass,
when the administration at Washington saw the necessity of inter
fering. It was obvious that the difficulty arose chiefly from the
impertinence and vulgarity of the army officers ; so they ordered
Colonel Jessup to come to Hartford and assume the command,
and packed off Smith to the lines or somewhere else.

" Colonel Jesup on his arrival called at once on Chauncey
Goodrich, the mayor, and begged him to let him know how
matters stood. Jesup was a man of sense and a gentleman,
and all difficulties speedily vanished. The troops were kept in
their cantonments, a certain distance out of town ; and only a
few at a time, of the most orderly, were permitted to come into
the city, and without military parade. Colonel Jesup was re
ceived into society, and caressed by the better class of citizens,
and became a great favorite. He was dined and tea'd to his
heart's content by the federalists, after which the democracy
rather cut him. So ended this little war.

" The celebrated Hartford Convention assembled here about
this time, and Mr. Thomas Bull, a large, portly, courtly old gen
tleman, was the doorkeeper and messenger. As it was proper
that this dignified body should have all things done decently and
in order, Mr. Bull was directed to call on the reverend clergy,
in turn, to pray with the Convention. Dr. Strong made tho
first prayer, and Dr. Perkins and other eminent clergymen
followed. The Rev. Philander Chase* — afterward Bishop Chase

* Philander Chase was a native of Vermont, born 1775, and died 1852.
He was a man of imposing personal appearance and manners. He be
came bishop of Ohio in 1819, and afterward was elected bishop of Illinois.

53

— was at this time rector of Christ Church — a high Church
man, who probably never in all his ministry offered an extem
poraneous prayer. He was, in his turn, called on by Mr. Bull,
who in his blandest manner informed him of the honor conferred
on him, and begged his attendance to pray at the opening of the
morning session. What must have been his horror, when Mr.
Chase declined, saying that he knew of no form of prayer for
rebellion ! Mr. Chase himself related this anecdote to me soon
after. Major J. M. Goodwin was present and heard it. Never
theless, I believe this speech was hardly original : some of the
tory Episcopal clergymen had said the same thing during the
Eevolution. They had forms of prayer for the king, but none
for liberty.

" No annoyance was offered to the Convention. A body of
United States troops, under command of Jemmy Lamb, a face
tious old Irishman, and the town-crier, in a fantastic military
dress, marched around the State-house, while they were in ses
sion — the music playing the ' Rogues' March.' The Convention,
however, excited less attention in Hartford than in other places.
' 'Tis distance lends enchantment,' &c. Very little more notice
was taken of their proceedings by the people here — exclusive of
violent partisans — than of those of the Superior Court."

This sketch, gives a clear insight into the state of
popular feeling at this period, in Hartford, which has
been the theme of much discussion and gross mis
representation. It is obvious that, had there been
no other reason for it, the danger of intrusion and
interruption from the irritated United States recruits,
led by incendiary officers and encouraged by reckless
mischief-makers, rendered it a matter of prudence for
the Convention to sit with closed doors. The State
court had been braved and insulted, and the far more

54 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

obnoxious Convention would doubtless have expe
rienced still more emphatic demonstrations of rude
ness. Had the sessions been open, a guard of a hun
dred men would scarcely have protected them from
interruption, perhaps violence.

It is creditable to all parties that Col. Jesup was
sent thither : it showed a disposition on the part of
the administration to afford no ground of offense ;
it proved that the citizens — the federalists — sought
no quarrel, and would interpose no difficulties to
the government troops or their officers in the lawful
discharge of their duties. It showed, moreover, .that
they could appreciate gentlemanly qualities, and were
ready to bestow honor on a gallant soldier who had
fought and bled in battle for the country, even al
though they disapproved of the war.

As to Colonel Jesup* — Brigadier-general Jesup
now — I must say a few words. At the time I speak
of, he was some thirty years old. He had recently
come from the northern frontier, where he had won
laurels by the side of Scott, Miller, Brown, Kipley,
and other gallant soldiers. He was of modest demea
nor, pleasing address, and gentlemanly tastes : it was
no disparagement to his agreeable appearance that he

* Thomas S. Jesup was a native of Virginia, and holding the rank of
Mnjor, distinguished himself at Chippewa, Niagara, &c., during the
campaign of 1814. While he was at Hartford, in the winter of 1814-15,
there was a public ball, in which I was one of the managers. I recol
lect that he was present, and was dressed in blue undress military coat
with epaulettes, white small-clothes, and white silk-stockings, and was
quite a favorite with the ladies — a proper homage to the brave.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC A L, ETC. 55

had his arm in a sling — a touching testimonial of his
merits brought from the field of battle. He was the
complete antipode of the J. L. Smiths and Joseph
Cuttings who had preceded him, and who thought
it a part of their democratic duty to be conspicuously
vulgar. He did not seek to promote democracy by
rendering it disgusting to all who held opposite opin
ions. He mingled in amicable intercourse with the
citizens ; sought interviews with the leading inhabit
ants — with the mayor of the city, and the governor of
the state when he chanced to be on a visit there. I
know he took counsel with my uncle and became ac
quainted with members of the Convention, and thus
found means not only to smooth away the difficulties
which had been engendered by his rude and reck
less predecessors in the military command of that
station, but gained correct information as to the ac
tual state of things.

It was perfectly well understood, at this time, that
he was not only a military officer, but that he was
the diplomatic agent of the government at "Washing
ton, and communicated his observations to the Exec
utive. He was not, for this reason, either shunned or
depreciated. It is evident, from his letters sent almost
daily to Madison — and the substance of which has
transpired, at least in part — that the real intentions of
the Convention were penetrated by him almost from
tfie beginning. It is evident that he never found the
lightest proof of treasonable intentions on the part

56 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

of that assembly.* It has been reported that he in
tends publishing his personal memoirs, and that in
these he will give some interesting revelations re
specting the Convention : I trust he will fulfill his
design, and I am equally confident that his report
will be in unison with the views I have here pre
sented. As a matter of principle — regarding it from
his point of view — he will doubtless condemn that

* Mr. Ingersoll, in his history of the " Late War," professes to report
the substance of Jesup's letters to the President: in one of these he
says, among other things, that after an interview which he had with
Gov. Tompkins, of New York, on his way to Hartford, he thinks the
" Convention will complain, remonstrate, and probably address the peo
ple, but that its proceedings will neither result in an attempt to sunder
the Union, nor in a determination to resist by force the measures of the
general government."

This is sensible. Thus Col. Jesup, even before he reached Hartford,
had discovered the actual state of things in New England. I can testify-
that, living in the very midst of the members of the Convention, I never
heard such a thing as disunion advocated, or even suggested, as proba
ble or posfeible. In confirmation of this, Mr. Ingersoll adds :

" Colonel Jesup soon ascertained that the Connecticut members of the
Convention, were opposed to disunion, to disorder ; that every throb of Hie
'people's heart was American" &c., &c. Surely no sensible man needed
a ghost to tell him that ; and yet, strange to say, there are persons who
still believe that the Convention, pushed on by the people of New Eng
land, were a band of traitors, at least in their hearts !

Mr. Ingersoll states that one member of the Convention — Chauncey
Goodrich — listened favorably to Jesup's counterplot, which was, that
New England should put her shoulder to the war, capture Halifax and the
adjacent territories, and these, with Canada, should be annexed to New
England ! That the ardent young lieutenant-colonel should have made
such a suggestion, is very possible, but those who knew the parties, will
Binile at the idea that a scheme so utterly preposterous — so hopeless
in the actual state of the country, so opposed to public sentiment, so
certain to protract and aggravate the war — should have been entertained
for a moment by the far-sighted person to whom it was proposed. If
such a plot was ever seriously suggested, it was no doubt respectfully
listened to as a matter of courtesy, but in no other sense could it have
been received.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 57

assembly, but as to matters of fact, I am certain he
will never furnish the slightest support to the charge
of treason, either secret or open.

But I must draw this long letter to a close. The
result of the Hartford Convention is well known.
After a session of three weeks, it terminated its labors,
and, in perfect conformity with public expectation and
public sentiment at the North, it issued an address,
full of loyalty to the Constitution, recommending
patience to the people, and while admitting their
grievances, still only suggesting peaceable and con
stitutional remedies. The authors of this document
knew well the community for which it was intended :
their purpose was to allay anxiety, to appease irrita
tion, to draw off in harmless channels the lightning
of public indignation. They therefore pointed out
modes of relief, in the direction of peace, and not in
the direction of civil war. They were federalists, as
were the people who supported them ; they belonged
to that party who founded the Constitution, in oppo
sition to the democracy.* Leaving it for democracy,
which opposed the Constitution in its cradle, to fur-

* The sincere seeker for truth should read the history of the parties
of this period, in connection with their previous annals. " It is a re-
markuble fact," says Noah "Webster, in his history of political parties in
the United States, " that the democratic party, with few or no excep
tions, opposed the ratification of the Constitution ; and beyond a ques
tion, had that opposition succeeded, anarchy or civil war would have
been the consequence. The federalists made the form of government,
and with immense efforts procured it to be ratified, in opposition to
nearly one-half of the citizens of the United States, headed by some of
the ablest men in the Union."

58 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

nish the first examples of Nullification, Disunion, Se
cession — with a discretion and a patriotism which
does them infinite credit — they found the means of
removing the cloud from the minds of their constit
uents, and yet without in any degree shaking the pil
lars of the Union, which was their ark of the cove
nant of national honor and glory and prosperity.

It is said Mr. Madison laughed when he heard the
result : it is very likely, for he had really feared that
the Convention meditated treason ; he perhaps felt a
little uneasy in his conscience, from a conviction that
his administration had afforded serious grounds for
discontent. He, as well as those who shared his views,
were no doubt relieved, when they found the cloud
had passed. Some of the democratic editors satisfied
themselves with squibs, and some found relief in
railing. Those especially who had insisted that the
Convention was a band of traitors, seemed to feel
personally affronted that it did not fulfill their evil
prophecies. There is perhaps no greater offense to
a partisan who has predicted evil of his adversary,
than for the latter to do what is right, and thus turn
the railer into ridicule. At all events, so bitter was
the disappointment of the fanatical portion of the
democrats, on the occasion in question, that they
sought relief in declaring that if the Convention did
not act treason, they at least felt it ! Perhaps in
consideration of their disappointment, we may pass
over this obliquity as one of those frailties of hu-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 59

man nature, which time teaches us to forget and for
give.

As to the general effect of the course adopted by
the Convention, no reasonable man can deny that it
was eminently salutary. It immediately appeased
the irritation and anxiety of the public mind in New
England ; it taught the people the propriety of calm
and prudent measures in times of difficulty and dan
ger ; and more than all, it set an example worthy of
being followed for all future time, by holding the
Constitution of the United States as sacred, and by
recommending the people to seek remedies for their
grievances by legal and not by revolutionary means.
" Blessed, are the peacemakers, for they shall see God."
I know of no similar benediction upon the promoters
of civil war.

And now I have done. The treaty of Ghent
speedily came to smooth the ruffled waters. Monroe
succeeded to Madison, and an era of good feeling
seemed to dawn upon the country. It is true the
promised millennium was not fully realized : the dy
ing flurries of the old federal party, under the har
pooning of triumphant democracy, caused some froth
upon the sea of politics. Connecticut passed through
the spasms of Toleration, in which that hard old
federalist, Oliver Wolcott, became the candidate of
democracy, and overturned the Charter of Charles II.,
and with it all his early political associations — public
and personal. It was a strange dance, and with a

60 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

curious arrangement of partners. Similar movements
took place in other parts of the country — the result
of which was, a new crystallization of parties, in which
the terms federalist and democrat lost their original
signification. I have before adverted to this fact, and
have stated that — in application to present parties —
they are little more than names to discriminate be
tween conservatives and radicals.

I have thus deemed it due to truth, in giving my
recollections of the war, to give them frankly and
fearlessly. Believing the old federalists — especially
those of Connecticut, for with them my acquaint
ance was personal — to have been honest and patri
otic, as I knew them to be virtuous and wise, so
I have said, and given my reasons for the faith
that is in me. While doing them this justice, I
do not affirm that in all things their measures were
right. I contend, however, that they were true
men, and, on the whole, have left memories behind
them which every dictate of virtue and patriotism
teaches us to cherish. By the side of their oppo
nents — and the very best of them — they may claim
at least equal respect. As time advances and the
mists of party are cleared from the horizon, I doubt
not their images will be seen and recognized by all,
as rising higher and higher among the nobler monu
ments of our history. One truth will stand — they
were of those who reared the glorious fabric of the
Union, and under all circumstances taught the peo-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 61

pie to regard it as sacred. Before any man presumes
to call them traitors, let him see that his own hands
are equally pure, his own spirit equally exalted.

LETTER XXXII.

The Count Value — Lessons in French, and a Translation of Rene — Severe
Retribution for Imprudence— The End of the Pocket-book Factory-
Napoleon returns to Paris and upsets my Affairs — Divers Experiences
and Reflections upon Dancing — Visit to New York — Oliver Wokott and
Archibald Grade— Ballston and Saratoga — Dr. Payson and the three
Rowdies— Illness and Death of my Uncle — Partnership with George
Sheldon — His Illness and Death,

MY DEAR C******

I must now go back and take up a few dropped
Btitches in my narrative. I have told you that my
apprenticeship terminated in the summer of 1814.
Previous to that time, I had made some advances in
the study of the French language under M. Value,
or, to give him his title, the Count Value. This per
son had spent his early life in Paris, but he afterward
migrated to St. Domingo, where he owned a large
estate. In the insurrection of 1794, he escaped only
with his life. With admirable cheerfulness and se
renity, he devoted himself to teaching French and
dancing, as means of support. He settled for a
time at New Haven, where, at the age of seventy, he
was captivated and captured by a tall, red-haired
Rchoolmistress of twenty. She accounted to me, for

62 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

her success, by stating that, at the time, she was
called the " Rose of Sharon" — she being a native of
a town in Litchfield county bearing the latter name.

The Count finally established himself at Hartford,
and I became one of his pupils. I pursued my
studies with considerable assiduity, and to practice
myself in French, I translated Chateaubriand's Rene.
One of my friends had just established a newspaper
at Middletown, and my translation was published
there. About this time my health was feeble, and
my eyes became seriously affected in consequence
of my night studies. Unaware of the danger, I per
severed, and thus laid the foundation of a nervous
weakness and irritability of my eyes, which has since
been to me a rock ahead in the whole voyage of life.
From that time, I have never been able to read or
write, but with pain. As if by a kind of fatality, I
seemed to be afterward drawn into a literary career,
for which I was doubly disqualified — first, by an im
perfect education, and next, by defective eyesight.
Oh ! what penalties have I paid for thus persisting
in a course which seems to have been forbidden to
me by Providence. After a long and laborious life,
I feel a profound consciousness that I have done noth
ing well ; at the same time, days, months, nay years,
have I struggled with the constant apprehension that
I should terminate my career in blindness ! How
little do we know, especially in the outset of our ex
istence, what is before us ! It is indeed well that we

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 63

do not know, for the prospect would often over
whelm us.

In the autumn of 1814, as already stated, I estab
lished, in company with a friend, a pocket-book fac
tory at Hartford ; but the peace put a speedy termina
tion to that enterprise. We got out of it with a small
loss, and my kind-hearted partner pocketed this, " for
he had money, and I had none." He forgave me,
and would have done the same, had the defalcation
been more considerable — for he was a true friend.

Early in the following spring, I made an arrange
ment to go to Paris as a clerk in a branch of the im
porting house of Eichards, Taylor & Wilder, of New
York. About a month after, the news came that Bo
naparte had suddenly returned from Elba, and as busi
ness was prostrated by that event, my engagement
failed. For nearly a year, my health continued indiffer
ent, and my eyes in such a state that I was incapable of
undertaking any serious business. I spent my time
partly at Berlin,* with my parents, and partly at Hart-

* I have already said that my father, having asked a dismission from
his parochial charge at Ridgefield, was settled — 1811 — in Berlin, eleven
miles south of Hartford. It is a pleasant village, situated on a slight
elevation, rising from a fertile valley, bounded on the south by a range
of mountains. The town embraces three parishes, which, thirty years
ago, were the principal seat of the tin manufacture, from which the
whole country was long supplied by peddlers. The arts of these be
came proverbial ; not confining themselves to the sale of tin-ware, they
occasionally peddled other articles. In the Southern States, it is pre
tended, they palmed off upon the people " wooden nutmegs," " oak-leaf
cigars," &c.

Berlin was the birthplace of Isaac Eiley — a noted bookseller of New
York — forty years ago. He was a man of fine personal address and

64 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

ford. I read a little, and practiced my French with
Value and his scholars. I also felt the need of disci
plining my hands and feet, which about these days
seemed to me to have acquired a most absurd develop
ment — giving me an awful feeling of embarrassment
when I entered into company. I therefore took les
sons in dancing, and whether I profited by it or not,
as to manners, I am persuaded that this portion of
my education was highly beneficial to me in other
points of view.

As many good people have a prejudice against
dancing, I am disposed to write down my experience
on the subject. In the winter, our good old teacher
had weekly cotillion parties, for the purpose of practi
cing his scholars. The young men invited the young
ladies, and took them to these gatherings, and after
the exercises, conducted them home again. I know
this will sound strange to those who only understand
metropolitan manners at the present day ; but let
me tell you that I never knew an instance, in my
own experience or observation, in which the strictest
propriety was departed from. These parties took

striking intellectual activity, but was marked T.vith great vicissitudes of
fortune. One of the Berlin peddlers, by the name of B . . . ., chanced
to be at one of Kiley's book-auction sales, when he bid off a thousand
copies of a cheap edition of Young's Night Thoughts. These he ped
dled in the South and West as bad looks, getting five dollars apiece for
them ! When remonstrated with for imposition, he insisted that it was
a good moral and religious operation !

At the present day, New Britain, one of the parishes of Berlin, is
noted for extensive brass and iron foundries, and various other manu
factures.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 65

place in the evening : they began at eight o'clock, and
continued till ten or eleven — sometimes till twelve.
The company consisted entirely of young persons —
from fifteen to twenty years of age : they included
the children of the respectable inhabitants, with a
number of young ladies from the boarding-schools.
Some of these I have since seen the wives of bish
ops, senators, and governors of States — filling in
deed the first stations to which the sex can aspire in
this country.

I have had enough experience of the world to know
that such things could not be in the great cities of
Europe or America — perhaps nowhere out of New
England. The division of society into castes in mo
narchical countries, no doubt involves the necessity
of keeping young ladies jealously aloof from compan
ionship with the other sex, because they might en
tangle themselves in engagements which would de
feat the system of building up families and estates by
politic marriages. In this state of society, it might be
found dangerous for young persons of opposite sexes
to be left even casually together, for a spirit of intrigue
is always indigenous under a system of restraint and
espionage. But however this may be, I am satisfied
that these Hartford parties, under the auspices of
our amiable and respectable old teacher, were every
way refining and elevating : not only did they im
part ease of manner, but, as I think, purity of senti
ment. The earlier emotions of youth are delicate,

66 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

modest, conservative ; and if acquaintance with life
be made at this period, these stamp their refinements
upon the feelings, and form a safe, conservative basis
of future habits of thought and conduct. I do not
mean to favor latitudinarianism of manners ; I do
not, indeed, say that this system can be adopted in
large cities, but I believe that dancing parties, con
sisting of young persons of both sexes, under proper
guidance — as, for instance, under the eye of parents,
either in a public hall, or by the domestic fireside —
have a refining influence, beneficial alike to manners
and morals. I believe that even public assemblies
for dancing, regulated by the presence of good peo
ple, are eminently useful.

I have been in Catholic countries, where the sys
tem is to keep girls in cloisters, or schools resembling
them, till they are taken out by their parents or
guardians to be married ; and it is precisely in these
countries, where education is the most jealous, and
discipline the most rigorous, that intrigue is the great
game of life — especially with the upper classes — of
both sexes. I have seen society where Puritan ideas
prevailed, and where religious people held dancing
to be a device of the devil ; and here I have often
found that practices, secret or open, quite as excep
tionable as dancing, were current in society. If in
the earlier ages of our New England history, a hard,
self-denying system was profitable, it is not so in the
present state of society. We are created with social

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 67

feelings, which demand indulgence. No system of
religion, no code or contrivance of state policy, has
been able to get over this fact. We can not kill the
voice of God and nature in the soul : we can only
regulate it, and by using common sense and the lights
of religion, give it a safe and beneficent development.
Is it not time for society to cast off prejudice, and to
be governed by truth and experience ? It must be
remembered that what is condemned by the good and
wise, often thereby becomes evil, though in itself it
may be beneficial. Has not this wrong been done
among us ? It seems to me that good people, pious
people, may at least inquire whether it may not be
well for them to take under their patronage, that
branch of education which proposes at once to per
fect the manners and refine the sentiments of youth.
It is not to dictate, but to aid in this inquiry, that I
give you with some minuteness my observations on
this subject; hence I offer you my testimony to the
fact that in the course of three winters, during which
I attended these cotillion parties at Hartford, I never
saw or heard of an instance of impropriety in word
or deed.

Let me further suggest that there is a principle here
which it is important to recognize and appreciate.
These young people were brought together at a period
when their emotions were still sheltered in the folds
of that sensitive and shrinking modesty, designed to
protect them at the period of their first adventure

68 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

into mixed society. This modesty is to the heart of
youth, like the envelope in which nature enshrines
the choicest products of the vegetable kingdom, till
they are ripened and prepared for the harvest. This
shrinking delicacy of feeling is conservative ; to this,
license is offensive, and if suggested, is repelled. If
young people associate together at this period — under
the restraints which necessarily exist in an assembly
such as I am contemplating — habits of delicacy, in
thought and manner, are likely to be established.
A person who has been thus trained, seems to me
armed, in some degree at least, against those coarse
seductions which degrade, and at last destroy, so many
young persons of both sexes. To young men, an
early familiarity with the refined portion of the gen
tler sex, placing them at ease in their society and
making this a sort of necessity to them, I conceive to
be one of the greatest safeguards to their morals and
manners in after life. And as a preparation for this —
as an introduction, an inducement to this — I conceive
that the art of dancing, practiced by young people
of both sexes, together, is to be commended.

I am aware that I am treading upon delicate
ground. You may share the idea entertained by
many good, pious people, that dancing is always de
grading and vicious in its tendencies. This, however,
I think, arises from considering it in its abuses. I am
not contending for juvenile balls, as a pursuit fit to
absorb the whole thought and attention. Remember,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 69

I am speaking of dancing as a part of education — to
be conducted with propriety — in order to train young
people of both sexes to habits of easy and delicate
intercourse. As to the practice of dancing, after
ward, this must be regulated by the judgment of
parents. One custom may be proper in one place,
and not in another. In this country, our habits are
different from those of others : in Asia, where woman
is designed for the harem, and in Europe, where she
is trained to be the make- weight of a bargain, jeal
ousy becomes the sentinel of society ; in the United
States, woman is comparatively free, and here confi
dence must be the guardian of society. I am inclined
to think, in this respect, our system has the advan
tage, provided it be not abused by license on the one
hand, nor bigotry on the other.

In respect to the case I am describing in my early
experience, in which the young gentlemen conducted
the young ladies to and from the dancing hall — the
confidence of parents, thus reposed in their children,
fortified and recommended by the purer suggestions
of the heart — appealed to motives of honor, and was
usually responded to by scrupulous rectitude of de
meanor. If you doubt the justice of this philosophy,
I ask your attention to the fact that, at this day —
forty years subsequent to the period to which I refer
— in this very city of Hartford, with a population of
twenty thousand people, women, young and old, of
all classes, walk the streets till midnight, with as

70 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

much sense of security and propriety, as at noonday !
Where will you find higher evidence of a refined
state of society than this ?

In the spring of 1815 I paid a visit to New York,
and having letters of introduction to Oliver Wolcott
and Archibald Gracie, I called on these gentlemen.
Mr. Wolcott lived in Pine-street, nearly opposite where
the custom-house is now, and at a short distance was
John Wells, an eminent lawyer of that day. But a
considerable number of the higher aristocracy was
gathered toward the lower part of the city, the Battery
being pretty nearly the focus of fashion. Streets now
desecrated by the odor of tar and turpentine, were then
filled with the flush and the fair. Nath'l Prime lived
at No. 1 Broadway ; Mr. Gracie in the Octagon House,
corner of Bridge and State streets. Near by was his
son-in-law, Charles King, now president of Columbia
College, and his son, Wm. Gracie, who had married the
second daughter of Oliver Wolcott. In this quarter,
also, were Wm. Bayard, Gen. Morton, Matthew Clark-
son, J. B. Coles, Moses Rogers, &c., all eminent citizens.

My lodgings were at the City Hotel, situated on
the western side of Broadway, between Thames and
Cedar streets — the space being now occupied by ware
houses. It was then the Astor House of New York,
being kept by a model landlord, whose name was
Jennings, with a model barkeeper by the name of
Willard. The latter was said never to sleep — night
or day — for at all hours ho \vns at his post, and never

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 71

forgot a customer, even after an absence of twenty
years.

It was late in the spring, and Mr. Gracie called for
me and took me to his country-seat, occupying a
little promontory on the western side of Hurlgate — a
charming spot, now cut up into some thirty city lots.
Contiguous to it, toward the city, were the summer
residences of J. J. Astor, Nathaniel Prime, and Win
Ehinelander ; on the other side were the seats of Com
modore Chauncey, Joshua Jones, and others.

Here I spent a fortnight very agreeably. Mr. Gra
cie was at this period distinguished alike on account
of his wealth, his intelligence, and his amiable and
honorable character. Never have I witnessed any
thing more charming — more affectionate, dignified,
and graceful — than the intercourse of the family with
one another. The sons and daughters, most of them
happily connected in marriage — as they gathered here
— seemed, to my unpracticed imagination, to consti
tute a sort of dynasty, something like the romance of
the middle ages. Not many years after, Mr. Gracie
lost his entire fortune by the vicissitudes of com
merce, but his character was beyond the reach oi
accident. He is still remembered with affectionate
respect by all those whose memories reach back to
the times in which he flourished, and when it might
be said, without disparagement to any other man,
that he was the first merchant in New York.

I must not omit to mention two other celebrities

72 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

whom I saw during this visit to New York. You
must recollect I was on my travels, and so, as in duty
bound, I sought to see the lions. Of course 1 went
to the court-house, and there I saw two remarkable
men — Judge Kent, and Thomas Addis Emmet — the
first, chancellor of the State of New York, and the
latter one of the most eminent lawyers in the city,
perhaps in the United States.

Judge Kent* I had seen before, at my uncle's
house. He had been educated at Yale College, was
my father's classmate, and formed an early acquaint
ance with our family, resulting in a friendly inter
course which was maintained throughout his whole
life. It would be difficult now to point to a man so
universally honored and esteemed. To the most ex
tensive learning, he added a winning simplicity of
manners and transparent truthfulness of character.
All this was written in his countenance, at once irre
sistible by its beaming intelligence, and its not less
impressive benevolence. The greatness and good
ness of his character shone full in his face.

I remember perfectly well the scene, when I saw
Emmetf and the judge together. The former was

* James Kent was born in Putnam county, N. Y., 1763. He rose to
eminence in the profession of the law, and was appointed by John Jay,
then governor, judge of the supreme court. He was afterward chief-
justice, and, in 1814, chancellor. He died in New York, which had
been his residence, in 1847 — an ornament to human nature, to the bar,
the bench, and the Christian profession.

t Thomas Addis Ernmet, a native of Cork, in Ireland, was born in
1764 He was one of the Committee of the Society of United Irishmen,

HISTORICAL, ANECAOTICAL, ETC. 73

arguing a case, but there were only half a dozen per
sons present, and it was rather a, conversation than a
plea. Emmet was a somewhat short but very athletic
man, with large, rosy cheeks, an enormous mouth,
and full, expressive eyes. His Irish brogue, rich and
sonorous, rolled from his lips like a cataract of music.
Kent listened, but frequently changed position, and
often broke into the argument with a question, which
sometimes resulted in a dialogue. His whole manner
was easy, familiar, and very different from the statue-
like dignity of other judges I had seen. The whole
spectacle left on my mind the impression that two
great men were rather consulting together, than that
one was attempting to win from the other an opinion
to suit an interested client. I recollect to have seen,
listening to this discussion, a large, florid, handsome
man, with a dark, eloquent eye ; I inquired his name,
and was told that it was John Wells, the renowned
lawyer, already mentioned.

As I thus saw the lions of the town, I also heard
the thunderers of the pulpit. On one occasion I lis
tened to a discourse from Dr. J. B. Komeyn'* — a tall,
thin, eloquent man — I think in Cedar-street. He was
celebrated in his day ; and, if I understood him cor-

nnd was involved in the unfortunate rebellion of 1798. Mr. Emmet was
imprisoned, but was finally set free, and came to the United States. Ilia
Cfrcat learninpr, his extraordinary talents, his powerful eloquence, soon
gave him a place among the first lawyers of the country. He died in 1827.

* John B. Romeyn was settled first at Rhinebeck, then at Scheiieo-
tady, and finally at New York. He was born in 1769, and died 1825-

VOL. II.— 4

74 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

rectly, he maintained the doctrine of election in sucK
rigor as to declare that if he knew who the elect were,
he would preach only to them, inasmuch as it would
be useless to preach to other persons !

In a new church in Murray-street, I heard Dr.
Mason,* then regarded as the Boanerges of the city.
Instead of a pulpit — which serves as a sort of shelter
and defense for the preacher — he had only a little
railing along the edge of the platform on which he
stood, so as to show his large and handsome person,
almost down to his shoe-buckles. He preached
without notes, and moved freely about, sometimes
speaking in a colloquial manner, and then suddenly
pouring out sentence after sentence, glowing with
lightning and echoing with thunder. The effect of
these outbursts was sometimes very startling. The
doctor was not only very imposing in his person, but
his voice was of prodigious volume and compass.
He was sometimes adventurous in his speech, occa
sionally passing off a joke, and not unfrequently

* John M. Mason, D. D. — son of Dr. John Mason of the Scotch Church
— was born in 1770, and died in 1829. He was alike distinguished for
his wit, his intellectual powers, and his eloquence. He was the author
of several religious works of great ability. I have heard the following
anecdote of him : A certain parishioner of his, after the establishment of
a Unitarian church in New York, joined it. One day, when the Doctor
chanced to meet him, the former said —

" Mr. S . . . ., it is some time since I have seen yon at Murray-street."

"I have not been there lately, it is true," was the reply — " and I will
tell yon the reason. I think you make religion too difficult; I prefer
rather to travel on a turnpike, than on a rough and thorny road."

"Yes," said the Doctor; " but you must look out, and see that you
don't have a Hell of a toll to pay !"

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 75

verging on what might seem profane, but for the
solemnity of his manner. When I heard him, in
speaking of some recent Unitarian point of faith, he
said, " This is damnable doctrine — I say it is damna
ble doctrine!" — the deep, guttural emphasis giving to
the repetition a. thrilling effect.

Early in the ensuing summer, my uncle, Chauncey
Goodrich, being in bad health, paid a visit to Sara
toga* and Ballston for the benefit of the waters, and
I accompanied him. We soon returned, however, for

* I remember a striking incident which occurred at the hotel in Sara
toga where we lodged. One Sunday morning, as the company sat down
to breakfast at a long table, a small, dark, and rather insignificant look
ing minister said grace. As soon as he began, and his voice attracted
notice, most of the persons gave respectful attention to his words ; but
three gay young men took pains to signify their superiority to such a
vulgar custom by clashing the knives and forks, calling upon the waiters,
and proceeding to their work. After breakfast, a notice was given to
the lodgers that a sermon would be preached in the dining-hall at 10
o'clock. At this hour the lodgers generally gathered there, and among
them the three young men — these, however, with a decided Gallio air
and manner. Indeed, it was pretty evident that they had come to qui?
the little parson. The latter soon entered, with a peculiarly noiseless
unostentatious step and demeanor. lie sat down and meditated for a
few minutes, and then rose to pray. The first tones of his voice wero
faint, but they grew in strength ; and as we took our seats, all began to
look with strange interest upon the countenance of that little, dark, un
pretending preacher. He read a familiar hymn, but it seemed new and
striking ; he read a familiar chapter in the Bible, but it had a depth
and meaning not realized before. He took his text, and preached such
a sermon as seldom falls from the lips of man. Every heart was thrilled,
and even the three young men who came to scoff, remained to pray.
Never have I seen such alternations of feelings as passed over their
countenances — first of ridicule, then of astonishment, then of shame,
and at last, of consternation and contrition. "And who is this strange
man — so insignificant in appearance, so seemingly inspired in fact?"
said the people. It was Edward Fayson, afterwards D. I)., of Portland,
one of the most pious, devoted, and eloquent ministers of his day. Ho
was born at Rindge, in New Hampshire, in 1783, and died in 1827.

76 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

it was now apparent that he had a disease of the heart,
which was rapidly tending to a fatal result. Expe
riencing great suffering at intervals, he gradually
yielded to the progress of his malady, and at last, on
the 18th of August, 1815 — while walking the room,
and engaged in cheerful conversation — he faltered,
sank into a chair, and instantly expired. " His
death," says the historian, "was a shock to the whole
community. Party distinctions were forgotten, un
der a sense of the general calamity ; and in the sim
ple but expressive language which was used at his
funeral, ' all united in a tribute of respect to the man
who had so long been dear to us, and done us so
much good.' " To me, the loss was irreparable —
leaving, however, in my heart a feeling of gratitude
that I had witnessed an example of the highest intel
lectual power united with the greatest moral excel
lence — and that, too, in one whose relationship to me
enforced and commended its teachings to my special
observance. Alas, how little have I done in life that
is worthy of such inspiration !

Not long after this, my friend George Sheldon hav
ing established himself as a bookseller and publisher,
he invited me to become his partner — and this I did,
early in the year 1816. We pursued the business for
nearly two years, during which time we published,
among other works, Scott's Family Bible, in five
volumes quarto — a considerable enterprise for that
period, in a place like Hartford. In the autumn of

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 77

1817 I had gone to Berlin, for the purpose of making
a short excursion for the benefit of my health, when a
messenger came from Hartford, saying that my part
ner was very ill, arid wished me to return. I imme
diately complied, and on entering the room of my
friend, I found him in a high fever, his mind already
wandering in painful dreams. As I came to his bed
side he said — " Oh, take away these horrid knives ;
they cut me to the heart !" I stooped over him and
said —

" There are no knives here; you are only dream-
ing."

"Oh, is it you?" said he. "lam glad you have
come. Do stay with me, and speak to me, so as to
keep off these dreadful fancies."

I did stay by him for four days and nights — but
his doom was sealed. His mind continued in a state
of wild delirium till a few minutes before his death
I stood gazing at his face, when a sudden change
came over him : the agitated and disturbed look of
insanity had passed — a quiet pallor had come over his
countenance, leaving it calm and peaceful. He open
ed his eyes, and, as if waking from sleep, looked on
me with an aspect of recognition. His lips moved, and
he pronounced the name of his wife ; she came, with
all the feelings of youth and love — aye, and of hope,
too, in her heart. She bent over him : he raised his
feeble and emaciated arms and clasped her to his heart:
he gave her one kiss, and passed to another life !

78 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

LETTER XXXIII.

Tfiv Famine 0/1816 and 1817 — Panic in New England — Migrations to
Ohw — T other Side of Ohio — Toleration — Down/ all of Federalism — Oli
ver Wolcfttt and the Democracy —Connecticut upset — The new Constitution
— Gov. Smith and Gov. Wokott — Litchfield — Uriah Tracey — Frederick
Wolcott — Tapping Reeve — Col. Talmadge — James Gould — J. W. Hun-
tir.gton — The Litchfield Centennial Celebration.

MY DEAR 0******

I must now ask your attention to several topics
having no connection, except unity of time and place :
the cold seasons of 1816 and 1817, and the conse
quent flood of emigration from New England to the
"West ; the political revolution in Connecticut, which
was wrought in the magic name of Toleration, and
one or two items of my personal experience.

The summer of 1816 was probably the coldest that
has been known here, in this century. In New Eng
land — from Connecticut to Maine — there were severe
frosts in every month. The crop of Indian corn was
almost entirely cut off : of potatoes, hay, oats, &c.,
there was not probably more than half the usual
supply. The means of averting the effects of such a
calamity — now afforded by railroads, steam naviga
tion, canals, and other facilities of intercommunica
tion — did not then exist. The following winter was
severe, and the ensuing spring backward. At this
time I made a journey into New Hampshire, pass-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 79

ing along the Connecticut river, in the region of
Hanover. It was then June, and the hills were al
most as barren as in November. I saw a man at Or
ford, who had been forty miles for a half bushel of
Indian corn, and paid two dollars for it !

Along the seaboard it was not difficult to obtain a
supply of food, save only that every article was dear.
In the interior it was otherwise : the cattle died for
want of fodder, and many of the inhabitants came
near perishing from starvation. The desolating ef
fects of the war still lingered over the country, and at
last a kind of despair seized upon some of the people.
In the pressure of adversity, many persons lost their
judgment, and thousands feared or felt that New
England was destined, henceforth, to become a part
of the frigid zone. At the same time, Ohio — with its
rich soil, its mild climate, its inviting prairies — was
opened fully upon the alarmed and anxious vision.
As was natural under the circumstances, a sort of
stampede took place from cold, desolate, worn-out
New England, to this land of promise.

I remember very well the tide of emigration through
Connecticut, on its way to the West, during the sum
mer of 1817. Some persons went in covered wagons —
frequently a family consisting of father, mother, and
nine small children, with one at the breast — some on
foot and some crowded together under the cover, with
kettles, gridirons, feather-beds, crockery, and the fam
ily Bible, Watts' Psalms and Hymns, and Webster's

80 LETTERS BIOQEAPIJICAL,

Spelling-book — the lares and penates of the house
hold. Others started in ox-carts, and trudged on at
the rate of ten miles a day. In several instances I
saw families on foot — the father and boys taking
turns in dragging along an improvised hand- wagon,
loaded with the wreck of the household goods — occa
sionally giving the mother and baby a ride. Many of
these persons were in a state of poverty, and begged
their way as they went. Some died before they
reached the expected Canaan ; many perished after
their arrival, from fatigue and privation ; and others,
from the fever and ague, which was then certain to
attack the new settlers.

It was, I think, in 1818, that I published a small
tract, entitled " T'other side of Ohio" — that is, the
other view, in contrast to the popular notion that it
was the paradise of the world. It was written by
Dr. Hand — a talented young physician of Berlin — •
who had made a visit to the West about these days.
It consisted mainly of vivid but painful pictures of
the accidents and incidents attending this wholesale
migration. The roads over the Alleghanies, between
Philadelphia and Pittsburg, were then rude, steep,
and dangerous, and some of the more precipitous
slopes were consequently strewn with the carcases
of wagons, carts, horses, oxen, which had made ship
wreck in their perilous descents. The scenes on
the road — of families gathered at night in miserable
sheds, called taverns — mothers frying, children cry-

J >JJJ

EMIGRATION IN IblT. Vol. 2, p. 8U.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 81

ing, fathers swearing — were a mingled comedy and
tragedy of errors. Even when they arrived in their
new homes — along the banks of the Muskingum
or the Scioto — frequently the whole family — father,
mother, children — speedily exchanged the fresh com
plexion and elastic step of their first abodes, for the
sunken cheek and languid movement, which marks
the victim of intermittent fever.

The instances of home-sickness, described by this
vivid sketcher, were touching. Not even the captive
Israelites, who hung their harps upon the willows
along the banks of the Euphrates, wept more bitter
tears, or looked back with more longing to their na
tive homes, than did these exiles from New England
— mourning the land they had left, with its roads,
schools, meeting-houses — its hope, health, and happi
ness ! Two incidents, related by the traveler, I must
mention — though I do it from recollection, as I have
not a copy of the work. He was one day riding in
the woods, apart from the settlements, when he met
a youth, some eighteen years of age, in a hunting-
frock, and with a fowling-piece in his hand. The
two fell into conversation.

" Where are you from ?" said the youth, at last.

" From Connecticut," was the reply.

" That is near the old Bay State ?"

"Yes."

" And have you been there ?"

" To Massachusetts ? Yes, many a time."

4*

82 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

"Let me take your hand, stranger. My mother
was from the Bay State, and brought me here when
I was an infant. I have heard her speak of it. Oh,
it must be a lovely land ! I wish I could see a
meeting-house and a school-house, for she is always
talking about them. And the sea — the sea — oh, if I
could see that ! Did you ever see it, stranger ?"

" Yes, often."

" What, the real, salt sea — the ocean — with the
ships upon it ?"

"Yes."

" Well" — said the youth, scarcely able to suppress
his emotion — " if I could see the old Bay State and
the ocean, I should be willing then to die 1"

In another instance the traveler met — somewhere
in the valley of the Scioto — a man from Hartford, by
the name of Bull. He was a severe democrat, and
feeling sorely oppressed with the idea that he was no
better off in Connecticut under federalism than the
Hebrews in Egypt, joined the throng and migrated to
Ohio. He was a man of substance, but his wealth
was of little avail in a new country, where all the
comforts and luxuries of civilization were unknown.

" When I left Connecticut," said he, " I was wretch
ed from thinking of the sins of federalism. After I
had got across Byram river, which divides that State
from New York, I knelt down and thanked the Lord
for that he had brought me and mine out of such a
Driest-ridden land. But I've been well punished,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 83

and I'm now preparing to return ; when I again
cross Byram river, I shall thank God that he has per
mitted me to get back again !"

Mr. Bull did return, and what he hardly anticipa
ted had taken place in his absence : the federal dy
nasty had passed away, and democracy was reigning
in its stead ! This was effected by a union of all the
dissenting sects — Episcopalians, Methodists, Baptists
— co-operating with the democrats to overthrow the
old and established order of things. Up to this pe
riod, Connecticut had no other constitution than the
colonial charter granted by Charles II. This was a
meager instrument, but long usage had supplied its
deficiencies, and the State had, practically, all the
functions of a complete political organization. It
had begun in Puritanism, and even now, as I have
elsewhere stated — notwithstanding gradual modifica
tions — the old Congregational orthodoxy still held
many privileges, some traditionary and some statu
tory. Yale College — an institution of the highest
literary standing — had been from the beginning, in
its influence, a religious seminary in the hands of the
Congregational clergy. The State had not only char
tered it, but had endowed and patronized it. And
besides, the statute-book continued to give preference
to this sect, compelling all persons to pay taxes to it,
unless they should declare their adhesion to some
other persuasion.

All this was incompatible with ideas and interests

84 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

that had now sprung up in the community. The
Episcopalians had become a large and powerful body,
and though they were generally federalists, they now
clamored — as an offset to the endowments of Yale Col
lege — for a sum of money to lay the foundation of a
" Bishops' Fund." The Methodists and Baptists had
discovered that the preference given to orthodoxy,
was a union of Church and State, and that the whole
administration was but the dark and damning machi
nery of privileged priestcraft. To all these sources 01
discontent, the democracy added the hostility which
it had ever felt toward federalism — now intensely em
bittered by the aggravations of the war and the Hart
ford Convention.

It was clear that the doom of federalism was at
hand, even in Connecticut. Many things had con
spired to overthrow it in other parts of the country.
Jefferson had saddled it, in the popular mind, with a
tendency to monarchy and a partiality for England —
a burden which it was hard to bear — especially near
the revolutionary period, when the hearts of the peo
ple still beat with gratitude to France and aggravated
hostility to Great Britain. John Adams, the candidate
of the federalists, gave great strength to this charge
by his conduct, and having thus nearly broken down
his supporters, did what he could to complete their de
struction, by at last going over to the enemy. John
Quincy Adams followed in the footsteps of his father.
Washington was early withdrawn from the scene of

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 85

action : Hamilton was shot : Burr proved treacherous
and infamous. The pillars of federalism were shaken,
and at the same time two mighty instruments were at
work for its final overthrow. The great body of the
people had got possession of suffrage, and insisted,
with increasing vehemence, upon the removal of ev
ery impediment to its universality. The conserva
tives, in such a contest, were sure to be at last over
whelmed, and this issue was not long delayed. One
thing more — the foreign element in our population,
augmenting every year, was almost wholly democratic.
Democracy in Europe is the watchword of popular
liberty ; the word is in all modern languages, the idea
in all existing masses. This name was now assumed
by the radical or republican party, and to its stand
ard, as a matter of course, the great body of the Euro
pean immigrants — little instructed in our history or
our institutions — spontaneously flocked, by the force
of instinct and prepossession. And still further — as I
have before intimated, nearly all foreigners hate Eng
land, and in this respect they found a ready and active
sympathy with the democratic party — the federalists
being of course charged with the damning sin of love
for that country and its institutions.

To these and other general influences, which had
shattered the federal party in the Southern and Mid
dle States, was now added, in Connecticut, the local
difficulties founded in sectarian discontent. But it is
probable that a revolution could not have been speed-

86 LETTEES BIOGRAPHICAL,

ily consummated, but for an adventitious incident.
Oliver Wolcott, who had been one of Washington's
cabinet, and of the strictest sect of federalism, had re
sided some years in New York, where he had acquired
a handsome fortune by commercial pursuits. For a
number of years he had taken no part in politics,
though I believe he had rather given support to the
war. No doubt he disapproved of the course of the
federalists, for I remember that shortly before the
Hartford Convention he was at my uncle's house —
the two being brothers-in-law — as I have before sta
ted. In allusion to the coming assembly, I recollect
to have heard him say, interrogatively —

"Well, brother Goodrich, I hope you are not about
to breed any mischief?"

"Sir," said my uncle, somewhat rebukingly, "you
know me too well to make it necessary to ask that
question !"

I recollect at a later period, when he was governor
of Connecticut, to have heard him speak reproachfully
of both political parties in New York. Said he —

" After living a dozen years in that State, I don't
pretend to comprehend their politics. It is a laby
rinth of wheels within wheels, and is understood only
by the managers. Why, these leaders of the opposite
parties, who — in the papers and before the world —
seem ready to tear each other's eyes out, will meet some
rainy night in a dark entry, and agree, whichever way
the election goes, they will share the spoils together 1"

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 87

At all events, about this time Oliver Wolcott re
moved to Litchfield, his native place, and in 1817
was nominated for governor by the malcontents of
all parties, rallying under the name of Toleration.
To show the violent nature of the fusion which uni
ted such contradictory elements into one homogene
ous mass, it may be well to quote here an extract
from a Connecticut democratic organ — the American
Mercury. This paper, with others, had charged Oli
ver Wolcott with burning down the War and Treas
ury Departments at Philadelphia, in order to cover
up the iniquities he had committed while Secretary of
War. The following was its language, Feb. 3, 1801 :

" An evening paper asks the editor for his knowledge : the
editors of that paper, if they will apply to Israel Israel, Esq.,
may have full and perfect knowledge of the accounts published.
To conceal fraud and rob the public; to conceal dilapidation
and plunder, while the public are paying enormous interest for
money to support wicked and unnecessary measures ; to conceal
as much as possible the amount and names of the robbers, and
the plans and evidences of the villainy — these the editor believes
to have been the true causes of the conflagration. When did it
take place? At the dusk of night, and in the rooms in which
the books were kept, in which were contained the registers of
public iniquity!"

A short time after this — February 26 — the same
paper copies ftom the Philadelphia Aurora an article,
of which the following are extracts :

" The Honorable Mr. Wolcott, ex-Secretary of the Treasury,
successor to the virtuous Hamilton and predecessor to the equal-

88 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

ly virtuous Dexter, has lately honored our city with his presence.
Having done enough for his ungrateful country, he is retiring to
the place from whence he came, to enjoy the otium cum digni-
tate. It is to be hoped he will have enough of the former, to
afford him an opportunity of nursing what little he has of the
latter.

• " This representative of Mr. Hamilton was very fortunate in
escaping the federal bonfires at Washington ; even his papers and
private property were providentially saved — but his fair fame
sustained a slight singeing between the two fires : his friends in
Congress, it is presumed, will pass a vote which shall operate as
a cataplasm to the burn.

" Our federal worthies, justly appreciating the services of this
valuable man, and wisely considering that nothing can afford more
pleasure than eating or drinking, resolved to treat him to a din
ner ; and as it is proper the world should know that Mr. Wolcott
had something to eat in Philadelphia, their proceedings on the
occasion, at least such parts of them as will bear the light, are
published in the federal prints."

Such were the opinions — at least such were the
representations — of the leading democratic organs,
respecting Oliver Wolcott, the federalist, in 1801. In
1817, he was the champion of the democratic party
in Connecticut, and the idol of the American Mer
cury! What transformations are equal to those which
the history of political parties, for the short space of
twenty years, brings to our view ?

It is needless to tell you in detail what immediately
followed. The struggle was one of the most violent
that was ever witnessed in Connecticut. It was cu
rious as well as violent — for we saw fighting side by
side, shoulder to shoulder, democracy, Methodism,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 89

Episcopacy, Pedobaptism, Universalism, radicalism,
infidelity — all united for the overthrow of federalism
and orthodoxy ; and Oliver Wolcott was the leader in
this onset ! The election took place in April, 1817,
and the federalists were routed, according to the es
tablished phrase, " horse, foot, and dragoons." John
Cotton Smith,* the most popular man in the State,

* John Cotton Smith was horn in 1765, became member of Congress
in 1800, where he remained six years. Being a federalist, he was nearly
the whole time in the minority, yet such were his character and ad
dress, that he presided more frequently, and with more success, over
the House, when in Committee of the Whole, than any other member.
"To the lofty bearing of a Roman senator," says the historian, "he
added a gentleness so conciliating and persuasive, that the spirit of
discord fled abashed from his presence."

He was my mother's cousin, and I saw him several times at our house.
He was tall, slender, and graceful in form and manner. His hair, a
little powdered, was turned back with a queue, and a slight friz over the
ears. His dress was of the olden time— with breeches, black silk stock
ings, and shoe-buckles. His address was an extraordinary mixture of
dignity and gentle persuasive courtesy. He was made judge of the Su
perior Court in 1809, and soon after lieutenant-governor; in 1812, he
became acting-governor, upon the death of the lamented Griswold. In
1813, he was elected governor, and led the State through the war, and
until 1817, when he was defeated by the election of Wolcott.

Governor Smith was the last of those stately, courtly Christian gentle
men of the " Old School," who presided over Connecticut : with him
passed away the dignity of white-top boots, queues, powder, and po
matum. His successor, Oliver Wolcott, though a federalist in the days
of Washington, was never courtly in his manners. He was simple,
direct, almost abrupt in his address, with a crisp brevity and pithiness
of speech. His personal appearance and manner, contrasting with those
of his predecessors, represented well enough the change of politics which
his accession to the gubernatorial chair indicated.

Governor Smith was the tirst president of the Connecticut Bible So
ciety, President of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign
Missions, President of the American Bible Society, and received from
Yale College the degree of LL.D. He lived at Sharon with patriarchal
liberality and dignity, to the age of eighty, where he died, beloved and
honored by all who knew him

90 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

was defeated : federalism was in the dust, toleration
was triumphant !

I remember that at that time, William L. Stone was
editor of the Connecticut Mirror. Nearly the whole
paper, immediately preceding the election, was filled
with pungent matter. I think I filled a column or
two myself. The feelings of the federalists were
very much wrought up, but after it was all over,
they took it good-naturedly. A new Constitution
for the State — 1818 — and a very good one, was the
first fruit of the revolution. Wolcott continued gov
ernor for ten years, and taking a moderate course,
in the end, satisfied reasonable men of both parties.
He was no radical, and inasmuch as a political change
in Connecticut was inevitable, it is probable that no
better man could have been found, to lead the people
through the emergency.*

* Oliver Wolcott was the third governor of Connecticut in a direct
lino from father to son. Eoger, his grandfather, was a native of Wind
sor, born in 1679 and died in 1767. He was a clever author, a conspic
uous Christian, and governor of his native State from 1751 to 1754. His
son, Oliver W., was born about 1727. He was a member of Congress in
1776, when the Declaration of Independence was made. Barlow, in his
Columbiad, thus speaks of him :

" Bold Wolcott urged the all-important cause —
With steady hand the solemn scene he draws ;
Undaunted firmness with his wisdom join'd —
Nor kings, nor worlds, could warp his steadfast mind."
He was elected governor in 1796, but died the next year.

His son Oliver was born 1759, and became Secretary of the Treasury,
tinder Washington, upon the retirement of Hamilton, in 1795. He was
continued in this office till the close of Adams's administration. After
twelve years of public service, he retired, with but six hundred dollars
in his pocket ! He devoted himself to commerce in New York from
2801 to 1815. His correspondence, in two volumes octavo, has been

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 91

During the period in which Oliver Wolcott was
governor, I was several times at Litchfield, and often
at his house. My sister, Mrs. Cooke, had married his
brother, Frederick Wolcott, living in the old family

published by his grandson Gibbs, and is a valuable and interesting work.
When he ceased to be governor, lie returned to New York, where he
died, in 1833. He was an able statesman, possessed of considerable lit
erary attainments, and in conversation was full of sagacity, wit, and
keen observations upon the world.

His sister, Maryanne, wife of Chauncey Goodrich — born 1765 — was
one of the most accomplished women of her time. A portrait of her —
though doing no justice to her beauty — is given in Dr. Griswold's " Re
publican Court." It is among the household anecdotes of the family,
that during the Revolution, a leaden statue of George III. was taken from
New York to Litchfield, and there cast into bullets, and that these were
formed into cartridges by this lady and others in the neighborhood, for
the army. I never saw her, as she died in 1805, before I went to Hartford.

Of Frederick Wolcott, my brother-in-law, I find the following obitu-
flry notice in the Philadelphia United States Gazette, July 11, 1837 :

" Died on the 28th of June, at his residence in Litchfield, Conn., in
the 70th year of his age, the Hon. Frederick Wolcott, one of the most
distinguished citizens of that State : a patriot of the old school, a gen
tleman of great moral and intellectual worth, a sincere, humble, consis
tent Christian. It has been well said of Judge Wolcott, that he was one
of ' nature's noblemen.' They who knew him personally, will appre
ciate the correctness and significance of the remark. His noble form,
dignified yet affable and endearing manners, intelligence and purity of
character, magnanimity of soul and useful life, were in grand and har
monious keeping, uniting to make him distinguished among men —
greatly respected, beloved, and honored.

" Judge Wolcott was descended from one of the most eminent fami
lies in New England, being the son of Oliver Wolcott, former governor of
Connecticut and one of the immortal signers of the Declaration of Inde
pendence, and grandson of Roger Wolcott, a still former governor of
that State, who, together with the late Gov. Oliver Wolcott, Secretary
of the Treasury under Washington's administration, and brother of the
deceased, were lineal descendants of Henry Wolcott, an English gen
tleman of Tolland, in Somersetshire, who came to this country in 1628,
and soon after undertook the first settlement in Connecticut, at Wind
sor. After graduating at Yale College, at an early age, with the highest
honors of his class, Mr. Wolcott directed his studies to the law, and
was soon called to various offices of important civil trust, the chief of
which he held through every fluctuation of party, during a long life. Ilia

92 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

mansion near by, and as I have intimated, my uncle,
Chauncey Goodrich, had married his sister — thus
making a double connection in the family. Uriah
Tracy,* one of the most distinguished men in the

integrity inflexible, his perception ready, his judgment sound, his de
portment always courteous, exemplary, and pleasing, he discharged all
the public duties to which he was called with distinguished reputation.
After his profession of faith in Christ, his life, morally correct and seem
ingly without defect before, was pre-eminently that of an enlightened
and devoted follower of the Lord Jesus.

" In all the various relations which he sustained, his character as a
great and good man shone with peculiar luster. In the church, he was
not simply a member, but a pillar. No one could command more re
spect, no one possessed more influence. In the great schemes of be
nevolence which distinguish the present age, he ever lent a helping
hand, and over several beneficent institutions was called to preside.
A decided, though unostentatious Christian, he was ready to do every
good work, and by his counsels and efforts, the weight of his character,
and the beautiful consistency of his piety, did much to promote the
cause which he espoused, and to recommend the religion he professed.
It may be truly said of him, that ' he walked with God.'

" In private and social life, his character had charms of still greater
endearment and loveliness. Here he loved most to move, and here his
more intimate friends will love to contemplate him. Modest and unas
suming, frank and generous, cordial and cheerful, he was eminently
formed for friendship, and none knew him but to love and honor him.
His mansion was always the abode of hospitality, his heart was always
open, delighting in those varied duties which pertain to the friend, the
neighbor, the relative, the father, and head of his family. In these
several relations, his example was noble, beautiful, lovely indeed !

" The closing scene corresponded with the tenor of his long arid use
ful life. It was calm, dignified, of steadfast faith, meekness, patience,
and Christian hope. He died in the full possession of his mental fac
ulties, leaving behind him a traly enviable reputation, and coming to
his grave, 'as a shock of corn fully ripe, in its season.' ''

* Uriah Tracy was born in 1754 and died in 1807. He was many years
a leading member of Congress, and distinguished for his eloquence,
learning, and wit. I have heard of him the following anecdote : To
ward the latter part of Adams's administration, the latter nominated to
office a connection of his family, by the name of Johnson, formerly
a federalist, but recently turned democrat. This was offensive to the
federalists, and Tracy, then of the Senate, being regarded as a skillful
diplomat, was appointed to go and remonstrate with the President. He

HISTORICAL, ANECUOTICAL, ETC. 93

history of Connecticut, had been dead for several
years, but others of great eminence were still living-
giving to Litchfield a remarkable prominence in the
State. Among these were Tapping Reeve,* at one
time chief-justice of Connecticut, and founder of the
law school, which was long the first institution of the
kind in the United States ; Colonel Talmadge, distin
guished as a gallant officer in the Revolution, and a
manly, eloquent debater in Congress ; James Gould,
a learned judge, an elegant scholar, and successor of
Reeve in the law school ; Jabez W. Huntington — law
lecturer, judge, senator — and distinguished in all these
eminent stations; Lyman Beecher,f an able theolo-

accordingly went, and having put his Excellency in excellent humor,
by some of his best stories, at last said —

"By the way, we have been thinking over this nomination of John
son, and find there is a good deal of objection to him. The democrats
will oppose him, because you nominated him ; and some of the feder
alists will oppose him, because he is a democrat. We fear that if he
goes to a vote, he will fail of a confirmation. As it would be unfortu
nate, just now, to have the administration defeated, your friends have
requested me to suggest to your Excellency whether it would not be best
to withdraw his name and substitute another ?"

The President thrust his hands into his breeches pockets, and strode
fiercely across the room : then coming up to Tracy, he said — " No, sir,

no — that Boston Junto will never be satisfied till they drive me and

my family back to Braintree to dig potatoes. No, sir — I'll not with
draw it !"

* Judge Reeve was born in 1744, and died in 1823. His law school
was founded in 1784 : in 1794, he associated Judge Gould with him.
In 1820, Judge Reeve left it, and Mr. Huntington became connected
with it. More than eight hundred persons have here had their legal
education : among these there have been fifteen United States senators
— five have been cabinet members ; ten governors of States ; two judges
of the Supreme Court ; and forty judges of State courts. Judge Gould
died in 1838, aged 67 : Judge Huntington died in 1847, aged 59.

t Dr. Beecher was born at New Haven, in 1775, was educated at Yale

94: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

gian and eloquent preacher, and even now more wide
ly known through his talented family, than his own
genius. Litchfield Hill was in fact not only one of
the most elevated features in the physical conforma
tion of Connecticut, but one of the focal points of litera
ture and civilization. You will readily suppose that
my visits here were among the most interesting events
of my early life.

In August, 1851, there was at Litchfield a gather
ing of distinguished natives of the county, convened
to celebrate its organization, which had taken place a
century before. Appropriate addresses were made by
Judge Church, Dr. Bushnell, F. A. Tallmadge, D. S.
Dickinson, George W. Holley, George Gould, Henry
Dutton, and other persons of distinction. Among

College, settled at Hampton, Long Island, 1798 ; in 1810, at Litchfield ;
in 1826, in the Hanover-street church, Boston ; in 1832, became Presi
dent of the Lane Theological Seminary, Cincinnati, which office he re
signed in 1842, returning to Boston, where he still resides. He has
published several volumes on theological subjects. He has devoted his
long life, with prodigious activity and vigor, to the promotion of religion,
learning, and the larger humanities of life. As a preacher he was very
effective, possessing surpassing powers of statement, illustration, and
argument.

His spirit and genius seem to have been imparted to his large family,
of whom Edward Beecher, Miss Catherine Beecher, Mrs. Stowe, Henry
Ward Beecher, and others — all celebrated for their works — are members.

At the time I was in Litchfield I heard the following anecdote of Dr. B.
He was one evening going home, having in his hand a volume of Roe's
Encyclopaedia, which he had taken at the bookstore. In his way, ho
met a skunk, and threw the book at him, upon which the animal re
torted, and with such effect that the doctor reached home in a very
shocking plight. Some time after lie was assailed, rather abusively,
by a controversialist, and a friend advised the doctor to reply. " No,"
said he—" I once discharged a quarto at a skunk, and I got the worst of
it. I do not wish to try it again 1"

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 95

the performances was a poem by Eev. J. Pierpont,'*
alike illustrative of the local history of Litchfield and
the manners and character of New England.

* I can not deny myself the pleasure of making a few extracts from this
admirable performance, vividly portraying my own observations and
recollections. Having described the boundaries of New England, the
poet adds :

Here dwells a people — by their leave I speak —

Peculiar, homogeneous, and unique —

With eyes wide open, and a ready ear,

Whate'er is going on to see and hear;

Nay, they do say, the genuine Yankee keeps

One eye half open, when he soundest sleeps.

*• * * * *

He loves his labor, as he loves his life ;

He loves his neighbor, and he loves his wife:

And why not love her ? Was she not the pearl

Above all price, while yet she was a girl ?

And, has she not increased in value since,

Till, in her love, he's richer than a prince ?

Not love a Yankee wife ! what, under Heaien,

Shall he love, then, and hope to be forgiven?

So fair, so faithful, so intent to please,

A " help" so " meet" in health or in disease !
* * * * *

And then, such housewives as these Yankees make ;

What can't they do ? Bread, pudding, pastry, cake,

Biscuit, and buns, can they mould, roll, and bake.

All they o'ersee ; their babes, their singing-birds,

Parlor and kitchen, company and curds,

Daughters and dairy, linens, and the lunch

For out-door laborers — instead of punch —

The balls of butter, kept so sweet and cool —

All the boys' heads, before they go to school,

Their books, their clothes, their lesson, and the ball,

That she has wound and covered for them — all,

All is o'ersceu — o'erseen ! — nay, it is don*,

By these same Yankee wives: — If you have run

Thus far without one, toward your setting sun,

Lose no more time, my friend — go home and speak for one I
*****
The Yankee boy, before he's sent to school,

Well knows the mysteries of that magic tool,

96 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL.

I think it may be safely said that there are few
counties in the United States, which could furnish
either such a poet or such materials for poetry, as this

The pocket-knife. To that his wistful eye

Turns, while he hears his mother's lullaby ;

His hoarded cents he gladly gives to get it,

Then leaves no stone unturned, till he can whet it :

And, in the education of the lad,

No little part that implement hath had.

His pocket-knife to the young whittler brings

A growing knowledge of material things.

Projectiles, music, and the sculptor's art,

His chestnut whistle, and his shingle dart

His elder pop-gun with its hickory rod,

Its sharp explosion and rebounding wad,

His corn-stalk fiddle, and the deeper tone

That murmurs from his pumpkin-leaf trombone,

Conspire to teach the boy. To these succeed

His bow, his arrow of a feathered reea,

His windmill, raised the passing breeze to win,

His water-wheel that turns upon a pin ;

Or, if his father lives upon the shore,

You'll see his ship, " beam-ends" upon the floor,

Full-rigged, with raking masts, and timbers stanch,

And waiting, near the washtub, for a launch.

Thus by his genius and his jack-knife driven,

Ere long he'll solve you any problem given;

Make any gimcrack, musical or mute,

A plow, a coach, an organ, or a flute —

Make you a locomotive or a clock,

Cut a canal, or build a floating-dock,

Or lead forth Beauty from a marble block;

Make any thing, in short, for sea or shore,

From a child's rattle to a seventy-four : —

Make it, said I ? — Ay, when he undertakes it,

He'll make the thing, and the machine that makes it

And, when the thing is made — whether it be

To move on earth, in air, or on the sea,

Whether on water o'er the waves to glide,

Or upon land to roll, revolve, or slide,

Whether to whirl, or jar, to strike, or ring,

Whether it be a piston or a spring,

Wheel, pulley, tube sonorous, wood or brass —

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 97

It has not only produced the eminent men already
noticed, but it has been the birthplace of thirteen
United States senators, twenty-two representatives

The thing designed shall surely come to pass ;
For, when his hand's upon it, you may know,
That there's go in it, and he'll make it go !
*****

'Tis not my purpose to appropriate
All that is clever to our native State :
The children of her sister States, our cousins,
Present their claims : — allow them — though by dozens ;

*****
But when we've weighed them, in a balance true,
And given our cousins all that is their due,
Will not themselves acknowledge that the weight
Inclines in favor of " the Nutmeg State ?"

*****

What if her faith, to which she clings as true,
Appears, to some eyes, slightly tinged with blue?
With blue as blue, aside from any ism,
We find no fault ; the spectrum of a prism,
The rainbow, and the flowers-de-luce, that look
At their own beauty in the glassy brook,
Show us a blue, that never fails to please ;
So does yon lake, when rippled by a breeze;
In morning-glories blue looks very well,
And in the little flower they call " blue-bell."
No better color is there for the sky,
Or, as /think, for a blonde beauty's eye.
It's very pretty for a lady's bonnet,
Or for the ribbon that she puts upon it ;
But in her faith, as also in her face,
Some will insist that blue is out of place ;
As all agree it would be in the rose
She wears, and, peradventure, in — her hose.

Still, for her shrewdness, must the "Nutmeg State"
As Number One among her sisters rate ;
And which, of all Tier counties, will compare,
For size, or strength, for water, soil, or air,
With our good Mother County — which has sown
Her children, broadcast, o'er a wider zone,
Around the globe ? And has she not, by far,
Outdone the rest in giving to the bar,

VOL. II.— 5

98 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

in Congress from the State of New York, alone, fif
teen judges of the supreme courts of other States,
nine presidents of colleges, and eighteen professors of
colleges !

And to the bench— for half of all her years—
The brightest names of half the hemispheres?

Our Mother County ! never shalt thou boast
Of mighty cities, or a sea- washed coast !
Not thine the marts where Commerce spreads her wings,
And to her wharves the wealth of India brings ;
No field of thine has e'er been given to fame,
Or stamp'd, by History, with a hero's name ;
For, on no field of thine was e'er displayed
A hostile host, or drawn a battle-blade.
The better honors thine, that wait on Peace.
Thy names are chosen, not from martial Greece,
Whose bloody laurels by the sword were won,
Platea, Salamis, and Marathon —
But from the pastoral people, strong and free,
Whose hills looked down upon the Midland sea —
The Holy Land. Thy Carmel lifts his head
Over thy Bethlehem — thy " house of bread ;"
Not Egypt's land of G-oslien equaled thine,
For wealth of pasture, or "well-favored kine,"
While many a streamlet through thy Canaan flows,
And in thy Sharon blushes many a rose.

But, Mother Litchfield, thou hast stronger claims
To be called holy, than thy holy names
Can give thee. Reckon as thy jewels, then,
Thy saintly women, and thy holy men.
Scarce have thine early birds from sleep awoke,
And up thy hillsides curls the cottage smoke,
When rises with it, on the morning air,
The voice of household worship and of prayer ;
And when the night-bird sinks upon her nest,
To warm her fledglings with her downy breast,
In reverent posture many a father stands,
And, o'er his children, lifting holy hands,
Gives them to God, the Guardian of their sleep ;
While round their beds their nightly vigils keep,
Those Angel ministers of heavenly grace,
Who " always do behold their Father's face."

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 99

LETTER XXXIV,

Stephen R. Bradley — My Pursuit of the Vocation of Bookseller and Publish
er — Scoffs Poems — General Enthusiasm— Byron's Poems — Their Re
ception — The Waverley Novels — Their amazing Popularity — I publish an
Edition of them — Literary Club at Hartford — J. M. Wainwright, Isaac
Toucey, William Z. Stone, &c, — The Round Table — Original American
Works — State of Opinion as to American Literature — Publication of
TrumbuWs Poems — Books for Education — Rev. G. A. Goodrich — Dr.
Oomstock — Woodbridge' 's Geography,

MY DEAK 0******

Early in the year 1818 I was married to the
daughter of Stephen Rowe Bradley,* of Westminster,
Vermont. Thus established in life, I pursued the
business of bookseller and publisher at Hartford for

* General Bradley was a native of Cheshire, Connecticut, where he
was born, Oct. 20, 1754. He graduated at Yale College in 1775, and as
before stated, was aid to Gen. Wooster, at the time he fell, in a skir
mish with the British, near Danbury, in 1777. He removed to Ver
mont about the year 1780, and devoting himself to the bar, acquired
an extensive practice. Having popular manners, and a keen insight
into society, he became a prominent political leader, and exercised a
large influence in laying the foundations of the State of Vermont, then
the Texas of this country — Ethan Allen, Ira Allen, Seth Warner, and
Thomas Chittenden — all from Connecticut — being the Austins and
Houstons of its early history. At the period to which I refer it was
rising from the chaos of the Revolutionary war, and the still more dis
organizing contests with colonial claimants for sovereignty over her ter
ritories. In 1791, that State having come into the Union, Gen. Bradley
was chosen one of its first senators. With an interval of six years — from
1795 to 1801 — he continued in the Senate till 1813, a period of sixteen
years. lie was a member of the democratic party, and called, "by vir
tue of powers vested in him" the caucus which nominated Madison, and
resulted in his election to the presidency. He was distinguished for
political sagacity, a ready wit, boundless stores of anecdote, a large ac
quaintance with mankind, and an extensive ran^o of historical knowl
edge. His conversation was exceedingly attractive, being always illus
trated by pertinent anecdotes and apt historical references. His devel-

100 LETTEKS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

four years. My vocation gave me the command of
books, but I was able to read but little, my eyes con
tinuing to be so weak that I could hardly do justice
to my affairs. By snatches, however, I dipped into a
good many books, and acquired a considerable knowl
edge of authors and their works.

During the period in which Scott had been enchant
ing the world with his poetry — that is, from 1805 to
1815 — I had shared in the general intoxication. The
Lady of the Lake delighted me beyond expression,
and even now, it seems to me the most pleasing and
perfect of metrical romances. These productions
seized powerfully upon the popular mind, partly on
account of the romance of their revelations, and
partly also because of the pellucidity of the style
and the easy flow of the versification. Everybody
could read and comprehend them. One of my
younger sisters committed the whole of the Lady
of the Lake to memory, and was accustomed of an
evening to sit at, her sewing, while she recited it
to an admiring circle of listeners. All young poets
were inoculated with the octa-syllabic verse, and news-

opments of the interior machinery of parties, during the times of
Washington, Jefferson, and Madison; his portraitures of the polit
ical leaders of these interesting eras in our history — all freely com
municated at a period when he had retired from the active arena of
politics, and now looked back upon them with the feelings of a philos
opher — were in the highest degree interesting and instructive. He re
ceived the degree of LL.D., and having removed to Walpole, in New
Hampshire, a few years before, died Dec. 16, 1830, aged 76. His son,
W. C. Bradley — still living, at the age of 74 — has also been a distin
guished lawyer and member of Congress.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 101

papers, magazines, and even volumes, teemed with im
itations and variations inspired by the "Wizard Harp
of the North." Not only did Scott* himself continue to
pour out volume after volume, but others produced set

* Scott experienced the fate of most eminent writers who have ac
quired a certain mannerism, recognized by the community at large—
that is, he was laughed at by burlesques of his works. George Col
man, the Younger, though not very young, travestied the Lady of the
Lake under the title of the Lady of the Wreck — the latter of about the
same dimensions as the former. It is an Irish story, full of droll ex
travagance and laughable imitations of the original, at which they are
aimed.

In 1812, appeared the " Kejected Addresses" of James and Horace
Smith, and in these the principal poets of the day were imitated, and
their peculiarities parodied. They may, in fact, be considered as mas
terly criticisms of the several authors, in which their weak points are
strongly suggested to the reader. The laughable imitations of the "Lake
Poets" — Wordsworth, Southey, and Coleridge — probably had as much
effect in curing them of their affectations, as the scoffing ridicule of the
Edinburgh Review. Even Byron, who actually gained the prize offered
by the manager of Drury Lane Theater, on the occasion of its opening
in the new building, received a staggering blow from the imitation of
Childe Harold, which was so close in manner as to seem as if extracted
from that poem, while the spirit of the composition is strongly and ef
fectively ridiculed. The following are two characteristic stanzas ;

" Sated with home, with wife and children tired,

The restless soul is driven abroad to roam —

Sated abroad, all seen, yet naught admired —

The restless soul is driven to ramble home.

Sated with both, beneath new Drury's dome,

The fiend Ennui a while consents to pine —

There growls and curses like a deadly Gnome,

Scorning to view fantastic Columbine,
Viewing with scorn the nonsense of the Nine!

*****
" For what is Hamlet, but a hare in March ?

And what is lirutus, but a croaking owl ?

And what i* Holla? Cupid stocp'd in starch,

Orlando's helmet in Augustine's cowl!

Shakspeare — how truo thine adage, ' fuir is foul' —

To him whose soul is with fruition fraught,

The song of Brahjim is an Irish howl —

Thinking it but an idle waste of thought,
And naught is every thing and every thing is naught P

102 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

poems, in his style, some of them so close in their
imitation, as to be supposed the works of Scott him
self, trying the effect of a disguise. At last, however,
the market was overstocked, and the general appetite
began to pall with a surfeit, when one of those sud
den changes took place in the public taste, which re
semble the convulsions of nature — as a whirlwind
or a tempest in the tropics — by which a monsoon,
having blown steadily from one point in the compass,
for six months, is made to turn about and blow as
steadily in the opposite direction.

It was just at the point in which the octa-syllabic
plethora began to revolt the public taste, that Byron
produced his first canto of Childe Harold's Pilgrim
age. In London, the effect was sudden, and the
youthful poet who went to bed a common man, woke
up in the morning and found himself famous. This

It is a point of the highest interest in my recollections, that during
the period in which Scott and Byron were rising into notice, and after
ward* in the full tide of success, were thrilling the whole reading world
with their masterly productions, that the Edinburgh Keview, under the
leadership of Jeffrey, was at its zenith. His criticisms were undoubt
edly the most brilliant and profound that had appeared at that period ;
nor has any thing superior to them been written since. About the same
time Wordsworth and his friends, Southey and Coleridge, attempted to
make the world believe that bathos is pathos, weakness strength, and
silliness sublimity. On this experiment they wasted a large amount of
genius. While the Edinburgh Review found a noble scope for its high
est efforts in illustrating the beauties of the Waverley novels, and setting
forth as well the faults as the sublimities of Byron, it also gave fall ex
ercise to its incomparable ridicule and raillery, in noticing the harle-
quinisms of the Lake triumvirate. At this period, a new number of
" the Edinburgh" created as much sensation as a new instalment of Ma-
cauly's history, at the present day.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 103

ready appreciation there, arose in a great degree from
the fact that the author was a man of fashion and a
lord. In this country,, these adventitious attributes
were less readily felt, and 'therefore the reception of
the new poem was more hesitating and distrustful.
For some time, only a few persons seemed to com
prehend it, and many who read it, scarcely knew
whether to be delighted or shocked. As it gradually
made its way in the public mind, it was against a
strong current both of taste and principle.

The public eye and ear — imbued with the ge
nius of Scott — had become adjusted to his sensuous
painting of external objects, set in rhymes resonant
as those of the nursery books. His poems were,
in fact, lyrical romances, with something of epic dig
nity of thought and incident, presented in all the
simplicity of ballad versification. A person with
tastes and habits formed upon the reading of these
productions, opening upon' Childe Harold's Pilgrim
age, was likely to feel himself — amid the long-drawn
stanzas and the deep, mystic meditations — in some
what of a labyrinth. Scott's poems were, moreover,
elevating in their moral tone, and indeed the popular
literature of the day — having generally purified itself
from the poisons infused into it by the spirit of the
French Eevolution — was alike conservative in man
ners and morals. Campbell's Pleasures of Hope and
Kogers' Pleasures of Memory, were favorite poems
from 1800 to 1815 ; and during the same period,

104 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

Thaddeus of Warsaw, tlie Scottish Chiefs, the Pas
tor's Fireside, by Jane Porter ; Sandford and Merton,
by Day ; Belinda, Leonora, Patronage, by Miss Edge-
worth; and Ccelebs in Search of a Wife, by Han
nah More — were types of the popular taste in tales
and romances. It was therefore a fearful plunge
from this elevated moral tone in literature, into the
daring if not blasphemous skepticisms of the new
poet.

The power of his productions, however, could not
be resisted : he had, in fact — in delineating his own
moody and morbid emotions — seemed to open a new
mine of poetry in the soul ; at least, he was the first
to disclose it to the popular mind. By degrees, the
public eye — admitted to these gloomy, cavernous re
gions of thought — became adjusted to their dim and
dusky atmosphere, and saw, or seemed to see, a ma
jestic spirit beckoning them deeper and deeper into its
labyrinths. Thus, what was at first revolting, came
at last to be a fascination. Having yielded to the
enchanter, the young and the old, the grave and
the gay, gave themselves up to the sorceries of
the poet-wizard. The struggle over, the new-born
love was ardent and profound, in proportion as it
had dallied or resisted at the beginning. The very
magnitude of the change — in passing from Scott's
romantic ballads to Byron's metaphysical trances —
when at last it was sanctioned by fashion, seemed to
confirm and sanctify the revolution. Thus in about

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 105

five or six years after the appearance of the first canto
of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage — the others having
speedily followed — the whole poetic world had be
come Byronic. Aspiring -young rhymers now affect
ed the Spenserian stanza, misanthropy, and skepti
cism. As Byron advanced in his career of profligacy,
and reflected his shameless debaucheries in Don Juan,
Beppo, and other similar effusions, the public — se
duced, bewildered, enchanted — still followed him, and
condescended to bring down their morals and their
manners to his degraded and degrading standard.

The secret of the power thus exercised lay in va
rious elements. In England, the aristocratic rank of
Byron added greatly to his influence over the public
mind, and this was at last reflected in America.
With little real feeling of nature, he had, however,
an imagination of flame, and an amazing gift of po
etic expression. The great fascination, however —
that which creates an agonizing interest in his prin
cipal poems — is the constant idea presented to the
reader that, under the disguise of his fictitious heroes,
he is unconsciously depicting his own sad, despairing
emotions. We always feel — whether in perusing
Childe Harold, or Manfred, or Cain, or any of his
more elaborate works — as if we were listening to the
moans of Prometheus struggling with the vultures,
or of Ixion toiling at his wheel. We could not, if
we would, refuse our pity for such suffering, even in
a demon; how deep, then, must be our sympathy,

5*

106 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

when this is spoken to us in the thrilling tones of
humanity, using as its vehicle all the music and mel
ody of the highest lyrical art !

In vain, therefore, was it that the moralist resisted
the diffusion of Byron's poems over the country.
The pulpit opened its thunders against them — teach
ers warned their pupils, parents their children. I
remember, even as late as 1820, that some booksellers
refused to sell them, regarding them as infidel publi
cations. About this time a publisher of Hartford, on
this ground, declined being concerned in stereotyping
an edition of them. It was all in vain. Byron could
no more be kept at bay, than the cholera. His works
have had their march over the world, and their victims
have been probably not less numerous than those of
that scourge of the nations. Byron may be, in fact,
considered as having opened the gates to that tide of
infidelity and licentiousness which sometimes came out
boldly, as in the poems of Shelly, and more disguisedly
in various other works, which converted Paul Clifford
and Dick Turpin into popular heroes. He lowered the
standard of public taste, and prepared a portion of the
people of England and America to receive with favor
the blunt sensualities of Paul de Kock, and the subtle
infiltrations of deism by Madame George Sand. Hap
pily, society has in its bosom the elements of conserva
tism, and at the present day the flood of license has
subsided, or is subsiding. Byron is still read, but his
immoralities, his atheism, have lost their relish, and

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 107

are now deemed offenses and blemishes, and at the
same time the public taste is directing itself in favor of
a purer and more exalted moral tone in every species
of literature. Longfellow, Bryant, and Tennyson are
the exponents of the public taste in poetry, and
Hawthorne, Dickens, Thackeray, in romance. All
the varied forms of light reading are taking a corre
sponding tone of respect for morals and religion.

Scott speedily appreciated the eclipse to which his
poetical career was doomed by the rising genius of
Byron. He now turned his attention to prose fiction,
and in July, 1814, completed and published Waverley,
which had been begun some eight or ten years before.
It produced no sudden emotion in the literary world.
It was considered a clever performance —nothing
more. I recollect to have heard it criticised by some
veteran novel-readers of that day, because its leading
character, Waverley, was only a respectable, common
place person, and not a perfect hero, according to the
old standards of romance. Guy Mannering came out
the next year, and was received with a certain degree
of eagerness. The Antiquary, Black Dwarf, Old
Mortality, Eob Roy, and the Heart of Mid-Lothian,
followed in quick succession. I suspect that never,
in any age, have the productions of any author created
in the world so wide and deep an enthusiasm. This
emotion reached its height upon the appearance of
Ivanhoe in 1819, which, I think, proved the most
popular of these marvelous productions.

108

At this period, although, there was a good deal of
mystery as to their authorship, the public generally
referred them to Scott.* He was called the " Great
Unknown" — a title which served to create even an
adventitious interest in his career. The appearance
of a new tale from his pen, caused a greater sensation
in the United States than did some of the battles of
Napoleon, which decided the fate of thrones and em
pires. Everybody read these works ; everybody —
the refined and the simple — shared in the delightful
trances which seemed to transport them to remote
ages and distant climes, and made them live and
breathe in the presence of the stern Covenanters of
Scotland, the gallant bowmen of Sherwood Forest,
or even the Crusaders in Palestine, where Coeur de
Lion and Saladin were seen struggling for the mas
tery ! I can testify to my own share in this intoxi
cation. I was not able, on account of my eyes, to
read these works myself, but I found friends to read

* It is a fact worthy of being noted, that while the evidence that Scott
was the author of the Waverley Novels was clear and conclusive, various
writers asserted the contrary. Some contended that they were written
by Sir Walter's brother, Thomas, in Canada ; some, that they were the
productions of a certain— or rather an uncertain — Dr. Greenfield, &c.
The subject was discussed with great vehemence, and something like
partisan bitterness. It was proved to demonstration, over and over
again, by some of these wiseacres, from internal, external, moral, reli
gious, and political evidence, that Sir Walter Scott could not be the
author. The foundation of all this was that envy, inherent in some
minds, which is offended by success. Persons of this class invented,
and at last believed, the absurdities which th ;y propagated. The fact is
instructive, for it teaches us the danger of fol owing the lead of littleness
and malignity. Candor is a safer guide thar envy or malice.

109

them to me. To one good old maid — Heaven bless
her! — I was indebted for the perusal of no less than
seven of these tales.

Of course, there were many editions of these works
in the United States, and among ethers, I published
an edition, I think in eight volumes, octavo — inclu
ding those which had appeared at that time. About
this period — that is, in 1819 — I was one of a literary
club, of which J. M. Wainwright,* Isaac Toucey,
William L. Stone, Jonathan Law, S. H. Huntington,
and others, were members. The first meeting was at
my house, and I composed a poem for the occasion,

* Dr. Wainwright was born at Liverpool, in 1792, of parents who
were citizens of the United States, but who at that date were on a visit
to England. He came to this country at the age of 11, was educated at
Cambridge, and was instituted rector of Christ Church at Hartford, in

1815. He came to New York about 1820, and after filling various im
portant stations, was in 1852 elected provisional bishop of the diocese of
New York. He was an accomplished scholar and gentleman, and an
earnest and successful laborer in the various fields to which his life was
devoted.

Mr. Toucey studied law at Newtown, and came to Hartford about
1812, and has since resided there. He is an eminent lawyer, and has
filled the offices of governor and senator of the United States. The
.'atter place he still holds.

William L. Stone, born at Esopus, New York, 1792, was first a printer,
and afterward became distinguished as an editor — first in conducting
a political paper at Albany, and then at Hudson. When Theodore
Dwight, who had founded the Connecticut Mirror, left for Albany, in

1816, Mr. Stone succeeded him. In 1821, he succeeded to the editorship
of the Commercial Advertiser, at New York, which place he filled till
his death, in 1844. He published various works, among which were the
Life of Brant, Memoir of Red Jacket, Letters on Masonry and Antiina-
Bonry, &c. He wrote with great rapidity and fluency, and had a iv-
markable talent in collecting materials and making compilations. Irx
personal character he was exceedingly amiable, giving his warm svm •
pathy to all things charitable and religious.

Jonathan Law was the postmaster of Hartford ; he was a good scholar.

110 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

entitled "A Vision" — afterward published, with other
poems, in 1836. I also published three or four num
bers of a small work entitled the " Bound Table," the
articles of which were written by different members ot
the club.

About this time I began to think of trying to
bring out original American works. It must be re
membered that I am speaking of a period prior to
1820. At that date, Bryant, Irving, and Cooper —
the founders of our modern literature — a trinity of
genius in poetry, essay, and romance — had but just
commenced their literary career. Neither of them
had acquired a positive reputation. Halleck, Percival,
Brainard, Longfellow, Willis, were at school — at least,
all were unknown. The general impression was that
we had not, and could not have, a literature. It was
the precise point at which Sidney Smith had ut
tered that bitter taunt in the Edinburgh Eeview —
" Who reads an American book ?" It proved to be
that "darkest hour just before the dawn." The
successful booksellers of the country — Carey, Small,
Thomas, Warner, of Philadelphia ; Campbell, Duyc-
kinck, Keed, Kirk & Mercein, Whiting & Watson, of
New York ; Beers & Howe, of New Haven ; 0. D.

a man of refined feelings, with a sensitive, shrinking delicacy of manners
in the intercourse of life.

Mr. Huntington has been judge of the county court, and has filled
other responsible offices. He is now clerk of the Court of Claims, at
Washington, though he resides at Hartford.— Such were some of the
members of our little club.

IIISTOKICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. Ill

Cooke, of Hartford ; West & Eichardson, Cummings
& Hilliard, E. P. & C. Williams, S. T. Armstrong, of
Boston — were for the most part the mere reproducers
and sellers of English books. It was positively in
jurious to the commercial credit of a bookseller to
undertake American works, unless they might be
Morse's Geographies, classical books, school-books,
devotional books, or other utilitarian works.

Nevertheless, about this time I published an edi
tion of Trumbull's poems, in two volumes, octavo,
and paid him a thousand dollars, and a hundred
copies of the work, for the copyright. I was seriously
counseled against this by several booksellers — and, in
fact, Trumbull had sought a publisher, in vain, for
several years previous. There was an association
of designers and engravers at Hartford, called the
" Graphic Company,"* and as I desired to patronize
the liberal arts there, I employed them to execute the
embellishments. For so considerable an enterprise,
I took the precaution to get a subscription, in which
I was tolerably successful. The work was at last
produced, but it did not come up to the public ex
pectation, or the patriotic zeal had cooled, and more
than half the subscribers declined taking the work.

* The designer of the establishment was Elkanah Tisdale, a fat, face
tious gentleman — a miniature painter by profession, but a man of some
literary taste, and admirable humor in anecdote. He illustrated, with
great cleverness, the handsome edition of the Echo, published by Isaac
Riley — brother-in-law of Dwight and Alsop, two of the principal authors
— the ugh it professes to be from the Porcupine Press, and by Pasquin
petronius.

112 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

I did not press it, but putting a good face upon the
affair, I let it pass, and — while the public supposed I
had made money by my enterprise, and even the au
thor looked askance at me in the jealous apprehension
that I had made too good a bargain out of him — I
quietly pocketed a loss of about a thousand dollars.
This was my first serious adventure in patronizing
American literature.

About the same period I turned my attention to
books for education and books for children, being
strongly impressed with the idea that there was he^e a
large field for improvement. I wrote, myself, a small
arithmetic, and half a dozen toy -books, and published
them, though I have never before confessed their au
thorship. I also employed several persons to write
school histories, and educational manuals of chemis
try, natural philosophy, &c., upon plans which I pre
scribed — all of which I published ; but none of these
were very successful at that time. Some of them,
passing into other hands, are now among the most
popular and profitable school-books in the country.*

* Among these was A History of the United States of America, by Kev.
C. A. Goodrich: this was the first of the popular school histories of the
United States, now in circulation — and, in fact, the first of my brother's
numerous publications. Previous to this time, the history of the United
States was not one of our school studies. Other works of a similar kind,
after this example, soon followed, but this work has continued to be one
of the most popular. Several hundred thousand copies of it have been
sold.

Another was an educational treatise on Natural Philosophy, by J. L.
Comstock, which is now a popular and standard work in the schools,
and has been republished in England. Dr. Comstock also wrote, upon
plans which I indicated, an educational work on Chemistry, another or

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 113

William C. Woodbridge, one of the teachers of the
Deaf and Dumb Asylum, at this time projected a
school geography, in which I assisted him — mostly in
preparing the details of the work for the press, and in
the mechanical department. When an edition of it
was finally ready — after long and anxious labor, both
on his part and mine — the state of my health com
pelled me to relinquish it. This work acquired great
popularity, and became the starting-point of a new
era in school geographies, both in this country and
in England.

Mineralogy, &c., which I published. Thus this excellent and useful
author hegan that series of treatises, designed to popularize science,
which has placed his name among the eminent benefactors of education
in this country. I am happy to say, that he is still living at Hartford, in
the enjoyment of the respect and friendship which his amiable character
and useful life naturally inspire — and, I may add, in the enjoyment also
of that independence which is but a just compensation of well-directed
industry and talent.

Mr. Woodbridge was born in 1795, graduated at Yale in 1811, and,
having studied theology, became one of the teachers of the deaf and
dumb, at Hartford. He was a man of the greatest amenity of manner and
purity of life; he showed also a complete devotion to what he deemed
his duty, viewed through a religious light. He gave his attention to
education, and may be considered as one of the pioneers in the great
improvements lately made in the art of instruction. He traveled in
Europe, visiting the most celebrated educational establishments, and
holding intercourse with the most enlightened friends of educational
progress and improvement. The result of his researches and reflections
In; gave to the public in numerous valuable and profound treatises,
lie was a little too much of a perfectionist to be immediately practical,
and hence his books — two geographical treatises — :were somewhat be
yond the age in which he lived ; but still they exercised a powerful
influence in suggesting valuable ideas to others. His first geography I
took to England in 1823, and got it published there, for his benefit. It
still continues to be published in London. Mr. Woodbridge was a man
of feeble health, yet struggled manfully till 1845, when he expired, at
Boston — loved and admired by all who knew him.

114 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

LETTER XXXV.

Sketches of the " Hartford Wits"— Dr. Hopkins— Trumbull, author of Mc-
Fingal — David Humphries — Dr. Strong — Theodore Dwight — Thomas II.
Gallaudet — Daniel Wadsicorth — Dr. Coggswell — Mrs. Sigourney.

MY DEAR 0******

In order to complete the panorama of my life at
Hartford, I must give you a brief sketch of some of
the persons whom I knew there, and who had become
conspicuous by their words or works. I have al
ready said that Hopkins, * who in point of genius
stood at the head of the noted literary fraternity of
" Hartford Wits," was not living when I went to re
side at that place. Trumbull, the author of McFin-
gal, was still living, and I knew him well. He was at
that time an old man, and — always small of stature —
was now bent, emaciated, and tottering with a cane.
His features were finely cut, and he must have been

* Dr. Lemuel Hopkins was born at Waterbury, 1750 : he practiced
physic at Litchficld, and afterward at Hartford, where he died in 1801.
He left a strong impression upon the public mind, as well by the eccen
tricity of his personal appearance and habits, as by his learning and ge
nius. He was often described to me as long and lank, walking with
spreading arms and straddling legs. His nose was long, lean, and flex
ible ; his eyes protruding, and his whole expression a strange mixture
of solemnity and drollery. He was of a social disposition, and often in
talking at a neighbor's house, would forget his business engagements.
He was intimate with Theodore Dwight, and his daughter has told me
that she recollects his coining to their house, and being very much fa
tigued, he laid himself down on the floor, and put a log of wood under
his head for a pillow. Here he began to dictate poetry, which her fa
ther wrote down, being very likely one of those poems which has placed
his name among the most vigorous of our satirists.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 115

handsome in his younger days. His eye was keen and
bright, his nose slightly aquiline, his mouth arching
downward at the corners, expressive of sarcastic hu
mor. There was something about him that at once
bespoke the man of letters, the poet, and the satirist.*

* John Trumbull — the poet — belonged to one of those remarkable
families in Connecticut which, through several generations, have pos
sessed talents that carried them to the highest stations in society. Jona
than Trumbull, of Lebanon, born in 1710, was elected governor in 1769,
and continued to be annually elected till 1783, when he resigned, having
been thirty years, without interruption, in public employment. His ser
vices, rendered to the country during the war, were regarded as almost
next those of Washington. It is said that the name given to our coun
try of " Brother Jonathan," came from him, in an allusion to his co
operation with Washington in the Kevolution. He died in 1785. His
son Jonathan, born at Lebanon, 1740, was Washington's secretary and
aid, member of Congress in 1789, speaker of the House in 1791, in 1794
senator, and in 1798, governor of the State. He died in 1809. Joseph
Trumbull, nephew of the preceding, and still living, has filled various
offices, and been senator of the United States and governor of the State.
Benjamin Trumbull, the distinguished historian — born in 1735 and died
in 1820 — was nephew of the first Gov. Trumbull. Col. John Trumbull,
brother of the second governor of that name and aid to Washington, was
an eminent painter and elegant gentleman, and died in 1843, aged 87.
A collection of his paintings, valuable as historical and biographical
mementoes, belongs to Yale College.

John Trumbull, the poet, son of the Kev. John T. of Watertown, a
connection of this family, was born 1750. At seven he was admitted at
college, but did not enter upon his studies there till thirteen. I have heard
him say that when he went to enter at Yale, he rode on horseback behind
his father, and wore his mother's cloak and hood. He studied law, min
gling the composition of poetry with legal pursuits. Having been in the
law office of John Adams, at Boston, he settled as a lawyer at Hartford
in 1781, and became distinguished in his profession. He wrote several
poems, the most noted of which was McFingal, an imitation of Hudi-
bras, and in some passages not inferior to the best portions of that famous
production. Trumbull was, no doubt, the most conspicuous literary
character of his day, in this country. I published a revised edition of
his works in 1820, as elsewhere stated. His society was much sought,
and he was the nucleus of a band of brilliant geniuses, including
Dwight, Hopkins, Alsop, Humphries, &c.

The latter I often saw at Hartford, usually on visits to Trumbull. Ha

116 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Dr. Strong was the minister of the Middle Brick
Church — the principal Congregational church in the
city. He was now near threescore and ten — large,
infirm, and shuffling along as if afflicted with gout
in the feet. His life and character had been marked
with eccentricities — with worldliness, wit, and social
aptitudes. Nevertheless, he was an eloquent and
devout preacher: it was said of him that when in
the pulpit, it seemed that he ought never to leave it,
and when out of it, that he ought never to go into it.
All his levity, however, had passed when I knew
him. He was indeed fast approaching that bourne
whence no traveler returns. With all his early

was then old, and living in his native town of Derby, where he had es
tablished a woolen manufactory. He had been one of the handsomest
men of his time, and was now large, portly, powdered, with a blue coat
and bright buttons, a yellow waistcoat, drab breeches, and white-top
boots. His complexion was florid, showing a little more appreciation
of Sherry than was orthodox in Connecticut — a taste he brought with
his wife and her fortune from Lisbon, or Madrid, in both which places
he had been ambassador. He was in truth a splendid mixture of the
old Continental soldier, and the powdered and pomatumed diplomat.
Though past sixty, he still affected poetry, and on one occasion— per
haps about 1810 — came in his coach-and-four, to get Trumbull to aid
him in finishing his Fable of the Monkey, who, imitating his master in
shaving, cut his own throat,. He had nearly completed it, but wished a
pointed, epigrammatic termination. Trumbull took it and read to the
end, as it was written, and then added, without stopping —

" Drew razor swift as he could pull it,
And cut, from ear to ear, his gullet 1"

This completed the fable, and it so stands to this day. This anecdote
was told me by Trumbull himself, and I gave it toKettell, who inserted
it in the notice of the poet, in his "Specimens of American Poetry."
Humphries died in 1818 ; Trumbull in 1841, having been a judge of the
Superior Court from 1801 till 1819, when he was disqualified by age,
tinder a law of the State.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 117

faults, he had a very strong hold of the affections
and confidence of his people. His face was remark
ably expressive, his eye keen, his lips firm, his
nose arched, and his long, thick, gray hair turned
back and rolled in waves upon his shoulders. I am
not sure that his reputation as a man of wit and
worldly taste, now that these were cast aside, did not
deepen the impression made by his preaching at this
period. I am certain that I have never heard dis
courses more impressive, more calculated to subdue
the pride of the heart, and turn it to religious sub
mission, than these. He was considered a man of
remarkable sagacity, especially in penetrating the
motives of mankind, and he was at the same time
esteemed by his clerical brethren as a very able di
vine. He published two volumes of sermons, but
they furnish little evidence of the genius which was
imputed to him. His reputation is now merely tra
ditional, but it is impossible not to perceive that,
with such eccentricities, he must have been a man
of remarkable qualities, inasmuch as he gathered into
his congregation the first minds in the city, and left
a name which still seems a bond of union and strength
to the church over which he presided.*

* Nathan Strong, D. D., was born at Coventry, 1748, and graduated
at Yale : during the Kevolution, he was a chaplain in the army. After
he was settled as a minister, he became a partner in the firm of Strong
<*vr Smith, and engaged in the manufacture of gin. As was fit and proper,
one of liis deacons, good old Mr. Corning, was a grocer, and sold New
England rum. As this article was frequently wanted after the store
vras shut, he kept a barrel on tap at his house, so that the people need

118 LETTERS' — BIOGRAPHICAL,

Theodore Dwight, a younger brother of Dr. Dwight,
was born at Northampton, in 1764. His early life
was spent upon the farm, and at that period when
the wolf, wild-cat, and Indian were occasionally seen
in the forest — furnishing him with ample materials
for interesting descriptions of adventure in after

not suffer for the want of this staff of life ! The firm of Strong & Smith
failed, and the minister shut himself up in his house to avoid the sheriff,
but as 110 writ could be served on Sundays, he then went forth and
preached to his congregation. All this took place toward the close of
the last century. There was nothing in it disgraceful , then. Let those
who deny that society has made progress in its standard of propriety,
compare this with the universal tone of public sentiment now.

Of the numerous anecdotes of Dr. Strong, I give you one or two spe
cimens. The first of these is connected with the Missionary Society of
Connecticut, of which he was a principal founder. The Eev. Mr. Bacon —
father of the present celebrated Dr. Leonard Bacon, of New Haven — had
been employed, as a missionary to that part of Ohio called the Western
Reserve. Some deeply interesting letters, detailing his operations, had
been received, and on the Sabbath, after the service, Dr. Strong invited
Theodore Dwight into the pulpit, to read them. This he performed,
and the letters made a deep impression upon the audience. One old

man, by the name of Z ... P , who was not only hard of hearing, but

hard of head and heart, actually wept. As Mr. Dwight was about to
descend, the doctor whispered to him — " You have done in thirty min
utes what I have not been able to accomplish in thirty years : you have
made old Z... P.... cry!"

Dr. S. had issued a prospectus for his sermons, when one day he met
Trurnbull the poet. " When are your sermons to be out ?" said the lat
ter. " I cannot exactly tell," said the doctor. " I am waiting to find a
text to suit a man who never comes to church, except when he has a
child to be baptized" — a palpable allusion to Trumbull's neglect of the
sanctuary about those days.

Dr. Mason, of New York, once called on Dr. Strong, and as he was
about to depart, he stumbled, and almost fell, in consequence of a de
fect in one of the door-steps. " Why don't you mend your ways?"
said he, somewhat peevishly. "I was waiting for a Mason," was the
ready reply.

One of Dr. S.'s deacons came to him with a difficulty. " Pray, doc
tor," said he, " tell me how it happens : all my hens hatch on Sunday."
" The reason is," said the doctor, " that you set them on Sunday !"

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, EfC. 119

time. When nearly twenty, he injured his wrist,
and being disqualified for the labors of a farmer, he
turned his attention to study, and finally selected the
profession of the law. He established himself at Hart
ford,* and rose to eminence in his profession. He
had, however, a strong bias toward literature, and

* When I went to reside at Hartford, Mr. Dwight was living next
door to my uncle, arid was on intimate terms with him. He was a tall,
handsome man, with an exceedingly black, flashing eye, and a lip that
curled easily in laughter or satire. He had an infinite fund of anecdote,
great learning, an abundant acquaintance with literature, and lively pow
ers of description. He wrote with facility, and dashed off verses almost
by improvisation.

In early life, he had written sentimental poetry, specimens of which
may be found in " American Poems," published at Litchfield, in 1793.
The lines, " Alfred to Philena," are his— Philena being Mrs. Morton.
They sound strongly Delia Cruscan— at this day — for the productions of
Theodore Dwight. As an editor, he was chiefly devoted to politics,
pursuing democracy with the unsparing vigilance of a falcon in chase
of its prey. Some of his pasquinades became very popular, and great
ly irritated the opposite party. His lines in ridicule of a Jeffersonian
festival at New Haven, March, 1803 — beginning as follows, and consist
ing of some dozen similar stanzas — were said and sung all over the

country.

Te tribes of Faction, join-
Tour daughters and your wives :
Moll Cary's come to dine,
And dance with Deacon Ives.
Ye ragged throng
Of democrats,
As thick as rats,
Come join the song.

Old Deacon Bishop stands,

With well-befrizzled wig,
File-leader of the band,
To open with a jig —
With parrot- toe
The poor old man
Tries all he can
To make it go, <fec.

When the Non-intercourse act — the last of the so-called " Restrictive
and which by way of ridicule had been nick-named the

120 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

wrote verses and political essays. Such was the rep
utation he soon acquired, that he was selected by
Wolcott, Hamilton, and others, to preside over the
Evening Post, established in 1801. This offer was
declined, and William Coleman rilled the place. Mr.
D wight was elected a member of the State Coun-

" 'Terrapin System," was repealed — Dwight wrote the following. It pre
tends to be a lyrical lament sung by the democrats at Washington, with
whom this system had been a great favorite.

DIEGICAL HYMN.

Mourn ! sons of democratic woe !

In sadness bow the head :
Bend every back with sorrow low —

Poor TEEEAPIN is dead.

And see his dying bed, around

His weeping friends appear :
Low droops his grandsire to the ground ;

His father drops a tear.

Old Clopton begs the twentieth god,

The victim's life to spare :
Calhoun and Johnson kiss the rod,

And Troup and Johnson swear.

Good old Long Tom stands sniveling by

His dying eyes to close ;
While Jemmy heaves a bitter sigh,

And wipes his mournful nose.

Let sharks exult with savage joy,

The wallowing porpoise spout:
No more his fangs their peace annoy,

Nor dread their ribs his snout

Mud-turtles, paddle at your ease

In every pond and pool ;
Ye tadpoles, settle on your lees,

And in the slime-bed cool.

Ye British weavers, shout and sing;

Ye tinkers, join the chorus ;
Cobblers and tailors, make a ring,

And dance a jig before us!

Tell old King George the glorious tale:

Amid his dire offences,
Perhaps 'twill light his visage pale,

And bring him to his senses.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 121

oil, and in 1806, a member of Congress. Soon
after he established the Connecticut Mirror, and
from that time followed the career of an editor.
He was secretary of the ' Hartford Convention in
1814. In 1815, he removed to Albany, and con
ducted the Albany Daily Advertiser: in 1817, he

The time will shortly come, when we

Like Terrapin must wander ;
And our poor eyes will nothing see

But death's cold Gerrymander!

The "Gerrymander" here alluded to, originated in a division of Mas
sachusetts, by the democrats, in the time of Governor Gerry, into Con
gressional Districts, so as to give that party the ascendency. It was a
violent disregard of geographical and political propriety, and the federal
ists retaliated by having a huge monster — with tail and claws, resembling,
in outline, the state of Massachusetts, as thus distorted — engraved and
circulated, with an exceedingly piquant natural history of the animal.
It took such effect that for a long time it gave a new word to the Amer
ican political vocabulary. It is said by Buckingham, that Gilbert Stuart,
the artist, suggested this clever caricature.

The following will serve as a specimen of Mr. Dwight's New- Year's
Carrier's verses, which appeared annually, and acquired great popu
larity. This extract is from the Connecticut Mirror, January 6, 1813.
* * * * *

Survey our desolated shores.

Our gra-s-grown wharves and empty stores —

Oar arts and industry depressed,

The wealthy cramp'd, the poor distress'd:

Our cities wrapp'd in deepest gloom,

Our commerce buried in the tomb.

No hum of business meets the ear,

No songs of joy the bosom cheer;

The sailor hears the whistling blasts

Murmur through sullen groves of masts —

The billows dash, the useless sail

Fhip mournful to the rising gale —

Then turns and views the dismal shed

Where his young offspring cry for bread.

And as the nightly breezes blow,

Curses the authors of his woe!
Naught but exterminating war

Could all this nation's blessings mar-
Naught but an arm of Vandal power

Vor. 1I.-6

122 LETTERS — BIOGEAPHICAL,

established the Daily Advertiser in New York, of
which he was the chief editor till 1836, when he re
moved to Hartford. He afterward returned to New
York, where he died, in 1846.

Among the Hartford notables was Daniel Wads-
worth, son of Col. Jeremiah Wadsworth, who had

The harvest of its hopes devour.

Where is that virtuous patriot band,

The pride, the bulwark of our land,

Form'd to uphold the nation's sway —

Pinckney, and Strong, and King, and Jay—

Whose counsels might our country shield,

And guide our armies in the field?

By party zeal and passions base,

Exiled from power, and driven from place!
Who fill the void ? What names succeed ?

Eead the bright list — exult and read!

Alston and Johnson, Fisk, Desha,

Porter and Piper, Pond and Ehea,

Grundy, and Hufty, and Lefevre,

Sammons and Stow, and Shaw, and Seaver,

Newton, McCoy, McKim, McKee,

Smilie, and Troup, and Widgery! —

And shall our nation's courage sink,

E'en on perdition's awful brink,

When such a constellated train

Her highest interests sustain ?

I have already alluded to the " Hartford wits," of whom Mr. DwigJv,
was one. Their reputation was chiefly founded upon a series of arti
cles which appeared in various papers, and were collected and published
in 1807, under the title of the Echo — including other pieces. They
consisted of satires, mostly in the form of parodies and burlesques —
with occasional passages of a more serious character. They attracted
great attention at the time, and had a wholesome effect in curing the
public of a taste for ridiculous bombast, which then prevailed. The
principal writers were Mr. Dwight, his broth er-in-hiw Richard Alsop,
of Middletown, and Dr. Hopkins, of Hartford. Mr. Theodore Dwight,
now of New York, the son of the author I am noticing, has shown me
a volume in which the lines contributed by each of these persons are
marked, in the handwriting of his father. This suggests the manner
in which the whole was written— one composing a few stanzas, then
another taking the pen, and then another. The characteristics of each
of these several writers are clearly indicated, in compositions having a
general aspect of homogeneity.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 123

been a distinguished member of Congress. He had
traveled in Europe, and was not only a man of large
wealth, but he had a taste for literature and art. His
wife was daughter of the second Governor Trumbull,
and a very excellent example of the refined and dig
nified lady of the olden time. She had been at Phil-

I am indebted to Mr. Dwight for the following, which is copied
from a memorandum in his father's handwriting, in relation to the
Echo :

" In the year 1829 a work was published in Boston, called 'Specimens of Amer
ican Poetry,' &c., by 8. Kettell. In a biographical sketch of Richard Alsop, a
minute and circumstantial account is given by Mr. Kettell, and which has been
frequently referred to as a correct narrative of that publication. It seems no
more than an act of justice to individuals, that a true history of it should be
published.

"The first number of the Echo appeared in the American Mercury, at Hartford,
in August, 1791. It was written at Middletown, by Eichard Alsop and Theodore
Dwight. The authors, at the time of writing it, had no expectation of its being
published; their sole object was to amuse themselves, and a few of their personal
friends. The general account of its origin is given in the preface of the volume in
which the numbers were afterward collected, and published in New York. A few
lines in the course of it were written by three of their literary friends, viz. : Dr.
M. F. Coggeswell, Elibu H. Smith, and Lemuel Hopkins. Dr. Hopkins wrote
more than these t\\ o others ; a considerable part of ten numbers were by him.
With these exceptions, the entire work was the production of Messrs. Alsop and
Dwight. Judge Trumbull never wrote a line of it. Mr. Kettell's account is incor
rect in almost every essential particular.

"The 'Political Green-House1 was written by Alsop, Hopkins, and Dwight, in
unequal proportions."

I think it may be remarked that, in these compositions, Dwight shows
the most brilliant fancy and playful wit, Alsop the broadest humor,
and Hopkins the most original and crushing satire. French Jacobin
ism, with all its brood of infidelity, radicalism, arid licentiousness, is
the especial object of attack throughout, and is justly and unsparingly
ridiculed.

Though Mr. Dwight is perhaps chiefly known as the author of satirical
verses, and as a somewhat severe though able political writer, lie was in
private life one of the most pure, disinterested, and amiable of men. He
had an almost womanly sensibility to human suffering; he was true to
friendship, and inflexibly devoted to what he deemed the cause of truth,
honor, and patriotism. He furnishes an instance of what has often hap
pened before, in which the literary man seems a vindictive satirist, while
the social man— friend, neighbor, father, husband— is full of the milk

LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

adelphia when her father was member of Congress,
and recited many interesting anecdotes of Washing
ton and Hamilton, and other great men, whom she
had there seen. I was often at the house, and here
frequently saw her Uncle, Col. Trumbull, the artist,
with his European wife, about whom there was an
impenetrable mystery. She was a beautiful woman,
and of elegant manners : her features are well pre
served in her husband's portrait of her, in the Trum
bull Gallery, at Yale College. It was rumored that
she was the daughter of an English earl, but her
name and lineage were never divulged.*

of human kindness. He had great abilities, and only missed a perma
nent reputation by setting too light a value upon his performances, and
thus not bringing them up to a higher standard of criticism. He wrote
too much and too rapidly for lasting fame.

* Mr. Wadsworth was one of the few rich men who know how to
make a good distribution of their wealth. His charities during his life
time were numerous, and bestowed with kindness and judgment. He
founded at Hartford the Wadsworth Atheneum, which is an interesting
and useful institution, including many antiquities, works of art, and a
valuable historical library.

Among the interesting objects connected with the city of Hartford,
is his country-seat on Talcott's mountain — embracing a lake, a tower,
and other attractions. The situation is beautiful, and the whole is taste
fully arranged. To the west of it lies the valley of Farmington river,
exhibiting a varied landscape of winding streams, swelling hills, and
jultivated fields, all seen through the enchanting azure of distance. To
he east is the Connecticut, rolling proudly through its borders, crowned
•fith the richest cultivation, and dotted with towns and villages, pre-
.•enting some thirty spires in a single view.

The scene presented to the eye from the top of this tower — which rises
seventy feet above its platform, situated upon a high point of rock — is
indeed unrivaled. The immediate objects beneath— the tasteful villa,
the quiet lake, and, rising up from its shores —

"Kocks, mounds, and knolls, confusedly hurled,

The fragments of an earlier world" —
suggesting a resemblance to the wild borders of Loch Katrine, conati-

125

It was, I believe, through Mr. Wadsworth's influence
that Miss Huntly, now Mrs. Sigourney, was induced
to leave her home in Norwich, and make Hartford
her residence. This occurred about the year 1814.
Noiselessly and gracefully she glided into our young
social circle, and ere long was its presiding genius.
I shall not write her history, nor dilate upon her lit
erary career — for who does not know them both by
heart ? Yet I may note her influence in this new re
lation — a part of which fell upon myself. Mingling
in the gayeties of eur social gatherings, and in no re
spect clouding their festivity, she led us all toward
intellectual pursuits and amusements. We had even
a literary cotery under her inspiration, its first meet
ings being held at Mr. Wadsworth's. I believe one of
my earliest attempts at composition was made here.
The ripples thus begun, extended over the whole
surface of our young society, producing a lasting and
refining effect. It could not but be beneficial thus to
mingle in intercourse with one who has the angelic
faculty of seeing poetry in all things, and good every
where. Few persons living have exercised a wider
influence than Mrs. Sigourney; no one that I now
know, can look back upon a long and earnest career
of such unblemished beneficence.

tute a rare assemblage of beautiful and striking groups. It is sad to
reflect that "lands and manors pass away," yet it is consoling to know
that others live to enjoy them. Mr. Wadsu'orth is gone — but it gives me
pleasure to state that my old friend, D. W., a thriving manufacturer of
axes, Is his successor.

126 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

In the immediate vicinity of Mr. Wadsworth, lived
Dr. Coggeswell, a renowned surgeon and excellent
physician. He was, withal, a man of refined tastes,
and exceedingly easy and gracious address. In early
life he had been associated with the "Hartford wits,"
and occasionally wrote verses, though more frequently
of the sentimental than the satirical kind. His daugh
ter, Alice, was deaf and dumb, if we speak of the ear
and the lip ; yet her soul heard and spoke in her eyes
and her countenance. She excited universal interest
by her sweetness of character, manners, and appear
ance ; she was, in truth, an eloquent and persuasive
lecturer upon the language, and beauty, and immor
tality of the soul — that lives above and beyond the
senses.

Mr. Gallaudet, the founder of the Deaf and Dumb
Asylum at Hartford, was a person of very diminutive
stature, with a smooth, placid physiognomy — irradia
ted, however, by a remarkably large, expressive eye,
rolling at you over his spectacles. Of a frail and
feeble constitution, and a mind of no great compass,
he still possessed two faculties which rendered his
career glorious. He had a clearness and precision in
his perceptions, which rendered his mental opera
tions almost as exact and certain as the movements
of mechanism. It was this which enabled him to
master the elements of the art of teaching the deaf
and dumb, and to carry that art — in its uses as well
as its philosophy — greatly beyond its condition when

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 127

he entered upon it. This principle in the head was
impelled to action by another in the heart — a deep
conviction that it was his duty to be useful to his
fellow-men. It is pleasing to observe how wide and
ample a field may be harvested by a good man, even
though he may not be a giant or a genius !

I must here tell you an anecdote still fresh in my
recollection. When President Monroe made his tour
through the New-England States, in the summer of
1817, the asylum was a novelty, and naturally enough
was the pride of the good citizens of Hartford. Of
course, the President was invited to see the perform
ances of the new institution. He was scarcely out of
his carriage, and delivered from the noise and confu
sion of his reception — for all the world turned out to
see him — before he was hurried down to the place
where the school was then kept.

A high central platform was prepared, like a
throne, for the great man, and here he took his seat.
Around were the spectators; on one side was Mr.
Gallaudet, and Mr. Clerc, the well-known deaf and
dumb professor from the school of the Abbe Sicard,
in Paris. Mr. Gallaudet was a man of admirable ad
dress, and all being ready, he said to the President,
in his smooth, seductive way —

" If your Excellency will be so kind as to ask some
question, I will repeat it to Mr. Clerc on my fingers,
and he will write an answer on the slate, to show the
manner and facility of conversation by signs."

128 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

The President, who was exceedingly jaded by hia
journey, looked obfuscated ; but he changed the
position of his legs, showing a consciousness of the
question, and then fell into a very brown study.
Everybody expected something profound — equal to
the occasion, and worthy of the chief magistrate ol
the greatest nation on the face of the globe. We
waited a long time, every minute seeming an hour,
through our impatience. At last it became awkward,
and Mr. Gallaudet insinuated —

" If your Excellency will be so kind as to ask some
question, I will repeat it on my fingers to Mr. Clerc,
and he will write an answer on the slate, to show the
manner and facility of conversing by signs." -

The President again changed the position of his
legs, and again meditated. We all supposed he was
at the very bottom of the abyss of philosophy, hunt
ing up some most profound and startling interroga
tion. Expectation was on tiptoe ; every eye was
leveled at the oracular lips, about to utter the amaz
ing proposition. Still, he only meditated. A long
time passed, and the impatience became agonizing.
Again Mr. Gallaudet, seeming to fear that the great
man was going to sleep, roused him by repeating his
request. The President at last seemed conscious ; his
eye twinkled, his lips moved, sounds issued from his
mouth —

"Ask him— how old he is!"— was the profound
suggestion.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 129

LETTER XXXVI.

Dr. Percival — His early Life — His Father's attempt to cure his /Shyness —
College Life — His First Love — His Medical Experience — His Poetical Ca
reer — An awkward Position — The Saddle on kin own Back — Cooper
and Percival at the City Hotel — Publication of his Poems at New
York— The Edition in England — Other Literary Avocations — His Sta
tion at West Point — His great Learning — Assistance of Dr. Webster in
his Dictionary — State Geologist in Connecticut — In Wisconsin — His
Death — .Estimate of his Character.

MY DEAR 0 ******

I am glad to find, by your recent letter, that you
approve of my hasty sketches of the men I have seen
and known — even though they are not all of that
general celebrity which creates, in advance, an inter
est in their behalf. No doubt the portrait of a man,
whose renown has filled our ears, is more gratifying
than one which merely presents the lineaments of an
unknown, unheard-of individual. Yet every picture
which is life-like — which possesses an obvious veri
similitude — is pleasing, especially if it seems to repre
sent a type of some class of men, which we have seen
in life. It is mainly upon this principle that the ficti
tious heroes and heroines of romance, interest us as
deeply as even the celebrities of history. As I describe
things I have seen, I hope my delineations may have
so much seeming truth as to amuse you, even though
they possess only that interest which attaches to all
true pictures of humanity. I say this, not as an in-

130 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

troduction, especially suited to this chapter, for I am
now going to speak of names that are familiar to you :
I make these reflections upon your letter, only as a
precaution against any criticisms you may offer upon
the less pretentious miniatures scattered through these
pages.

The news comes, even while I write, that Percival,
the poet, is dead ! Yes — one by one, those I have
known and cherished, are falling around me. Few
of my early acquaintances are left, and I am but a lin
gerer among the graves of early friendship and love !

James Gates Percival was a native of Berlin,* the
residence of my family, and I knew him well. His
father was a physician — a man of ability, and of res
olute and energetic character. His mother was by
nature of a susceptible and delicate organization, and
she seems to have imparted to her son these qualities,
with a tendency to excessive mental development.
He early manifested a morbid shyness and shrink
ing sensitiveness, which his father sought to cure by
harsh measures. On one occasion he put the child
behind him on horseback, and rode into the thickest
of a sham fight, during a regimental muster. The
result was, that the boy was almost thrown into con
vulsions.

Dr. Percival died when James was still young, and

* Berlin consists of three parishes — Worthington, where my father
resided, New Britain, and Kensington. The latter was Percival's birth-
place.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 133

after a time his mother married a respectable farmer of
the village by the name of Porter. The young Perci-
val made extraordinary progress in his studies, but was
little understood by those around him. He entered col
lege at the age of sixteen, and speedily attracted atten
tion by his acquisitions and his compositions. At this
period he was often at my father's house, in Berlin, and
being subject to paroxysms of great depression of spir
its, he deeply excited the interest of my mother. Al
though, on the whole, he pursued his education with
avidity and ambition, yet he often wandered forth in
lonesome places, nursing a moody melancholy, and
at one period, he actually contemplated suicide. From
this he was diverted — mainly, I believe, by my moth
er's timely counsel and other kindly offices.

About this time he was frequently in the society
of a beautiful and accomplished young lady of the
neighborhood ; he botanized with her in the fields,
and poetized with her in the library, and at last he
thought himself in love. Months thus ran pleasantly
on, when one day he made up his mind to give her
a delicate hint of his condition. He did so, I believe,
in verse. The young lady replied in plain prose,
that she was engaged, and was speedily to be mar
ried ! The poet came to the conclusion that this was
a deceitful world, and wrote Byronic verses. In 1820
he published a volume of poems, including the first
part of his Prometheus.

Having studied medicine, he went to South Caro-

132 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

iina the same year, and established himself at Charles
ton, as a physician. He told me afterward, that, at
the end of some months, he had one patient, afflicted
with sore lips. He prescribed a dose of salts, gratis,
and this was a pretty fair example of his practice.

" I had got my name up for writing verses," said
he, " and found myself ruined."

"How so?" said I.

" When a person is really ill, he will not send for
a poet to cure him," was his answer.

Having little else before him, he directed his at
tention to literature, and published the first number
of his Clio, 1822. Soon after, he returned to the
North, and produced some miscellanies in prose and
verse. At this period, he had excited a deep interest
in the public mind, as well by his writings as his
somewhat eccentric life and manners. The melan
choly which pervaded his poetry, with fugitive pieces
of great feeling and tenderness, together with a certain
wildness in his air and manner, rendered him an ob
ject of general curiosity, and in many cases of deep
sympathy. Of all this he seemed unconscious, and
walked the world like one who neither accepted nor
desired its friendship.

In the spring of 1823, I was walking up Broadway
in New York, and met him. I had been intimate
with him for several previous years, having often
seen him at my father's house ; but I now observed,
that on seeing me, he turned aside, and evidently

•

['KRC'VAL Vol '.', p. 132

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 133

sought to avoid me. This was what I expected, for
such was his habit of shrinking shyness, that it embar
rassed him to meet even an old friend. I put myself
in his way, and, after a few words of recognition,
perceiving something more than usually downcast in
his appearance, I asked him what was the occasion
of it. At first he denied that any thing had hap
pened, but at length, with some reluctance, he told
me he had been making a tour to the North, and
was out of money. His trunk was consequently de
tained on board the packet in which he had come
down from Albany !

Percival had some patrimony, and though his means
were narrow, they might have been sufficient for his
comfort, with good management. But common sense
— -in the economy of life — was, unhappily, not one of
his endowments. When he was about fifteen years
old, his friends gave him fifty dollars, mounted him on
a horse, and told him to ride till he had spent half his
money, and then turn about and come home — think
ing him competent to fulfill this simple programme.
He rode on for two or three days, when he found that
the horse's back was sadly galled. Shocked at what
seemed an inhumanity — for his feelings were exquis
itely tender — he resolved immediately to return. He
would not mount the animal, for this would but ag
gravate its misery ; so he set out on foot, and led the
creature behind him. The saddle, however, still irri
tated the wound, and Percival, taking it from the

134: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

animal's back, threw it over bis own shoulder, and
thus trudged home. I was familiar with this and other
similar anecdotes. Thus knowing his imbecility in
the common affairs of life, it did not surprise me to
find him now without money, and in a state of com
plete bewilderment as to what should be done.

I gave him ten dollars, which he received and put
into his pocket, making no reply — for such was his un
demonstrative habit and manner. I asked him to dine
with me the next day at the City Hotel, to which he
agreed. I invited Mr. Cooper — the novelist — to meet
him, and he came. It is not easy to conceive of two
persons more strongly contrasting with each other.
As they sat side by side at the table, I noted the dif
ference. Mr. Cooper was in .person solid, robust,
athletic : in voice, manly ; in manner, earnest, em
phatic, almost dictatorial — with something of self-
assertion, bordering on egotism. The first effect was
unpleasant, indeed repulsive, but there shone through
all this a heartiness, a frankness, which excited con
fidence, respect, and at last affection.

Percival, on the contrary, was tall and thin, his
chest sunken, his limbs long and feeble, his hair silk
en and sandy, his complexion light and feminine, his
eye large and spectral, his whole air startled, his atti
tudes shy and shrinking, his voice abashed and whis
pering. Mr. Cooper ate like a man of excellent ap
petite and vigorous digestion : Percival scarce seemed
to know that he was at the table. Cooper took his

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 135

wine as if his lip appreciated it : Percival swallowed
his, evidently without knowing or caring whether it
was wine or water. Yet these two men conversed
pleasantly together. After a time Percival was drawn
out, and the stores of his mind were poured forth as
from a cornucopia. I could see Cooper's gray eye
dilate with delight and surprise.

I had a design in bringing these two men together,
and this was to have a handsome edition of Percival's
poems published for his benefit, and under such influ
ences as to make it profitable to him. The matter
was talked over between us, and before we parted, it
was all arranged. I at once drew up a prospectus,
and had it printed. I wrote a contract between
Percival and the publisher, Charles Wiley, and had
it duly signed. Mr. Cooper took the prospectus in
hand, and aided by the powerful assistance of Mr.
Bronson, Percival's college classmate, the subscrip
tion was actively pushed. The fairest ladies of New
York gave a helping hand, and before I left the
city, three hundred subscribers were secured. Pro
vision had also been made for Percival's immediate
comfort ; lodgings were furnished, and he was forth
with to prepare the copy, for the promised volume.
I returned to Hartford, but in a fortnight, got a letter
asking me if I knew what had become of our poet ?
Some weeks passed, during which time he was among
the missing. At last it was discovered that he had
been annoyed by a fiddling Frenchman, near his

136 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

room, and had fled to New Haven. There he had
entered into another contract for the publication of
his poems !

It required some weeks to disentangle the affair from
all these difficulties. At last, however, after many
delays and annoyances, the copy was furnished, and
the book printed. At that time I was on the point
of going to Europe. I delayed a fortnight to get a
perfect copy, so that I might take it with me — in or
der to secure its publication in England, for Perci-
val's benefit. At last I departed, having obtained the
unbound sheets of a single copy. I sailed from New
York in the packet ship Canada — Percival accompa
nying me in the steamboat Nautilus, from White
hall, to the vessel, which lay out in the stream. I
believe he regarded me as one of his best friends, but
as we shook hands, and I bade him farewell, he said
coldly, " Grood-by" — his pale and spectral counte
nance showing not a ray of emotion.

Soon after reaching London, however, I received a
copy of the New York Commercial Advertiser, dated
Nov. 17, 1823, in which I read the following — there
being a small " P." in ink, at the bottom. I copy it
from the file of the New York Spectator of Nov. 17,
1823— then edited by W. L. Stone.

The Canada. — We never saw a ship spread her broad wings
to the breeze and go out to sea in finer style than did the ship
Canada yesterday. We received this morning the following
effusion from a gentleman who accompanied a friend on board,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 187

and had watched the vessel from the steamboat till she was lost
in the blue distance, and have no doubt that our friends will rec
ognize the author.

TO THE CANADA ON GOING TO SEA.

The gallant ship is out at sea,

Proudly o'er the water going ;
Along her sides the billows flee,

Back in her wake a river flowing.
She dips her stem to meet the wave,

And high the toss'd foam curls before it :
As if she felt the cheer we gave,
She takes her flight,
Where the sea looks bright,
And the sun in sparkles flashes o'er it.

Gallantly as she cuts her way —

And now in distance fur is fleeting,
There are some on board whose hearts are gay,

And some whose hearts are wildly beating.
Loud was the cheer her seamen gave,

As back they sent our welcome cheering —
Many a hand was seen to wave,
Arid some did weep
And fondly keep
Their gaze intent, when out of hearing.

They have parted, and now are far at sea —
Heaven send them fine and gentle weather I

They parted not for eternity —

Our hands shall soon be link'd together 1

The sea was smooth and the sky was blue,
And the tops of the ruflled waves were glowing —

As proudly on the vessel flew
Like the feather'd king
On his balanced wing,

To a distant land o'er the ocean going.

I knew Percival too well to feel hurt at his cool
good-by — nevertheless, it was a pleasure to have this
evidence of his feeling and his friendship. On reach
ing London, I made a contract with John Miller for

138 LETTERS — BIOGE APHIC AL,

the publication of the poems in two volumes 12mo —
half the profits to go to the author. I also wrote for
it a brief biographical notice. A very handsome
edition soon appeared, and attracted some attention,
but excited no enthusiasm in London. On the whole,
the publication was a failure. The edition of one
thousand copies was not sold, but I subsequently in
duced Miller to send to Percival one hundred copies,
as his share of the proceeds. This was all he ever
received from the English edition.

After my return to America, I frequently met Per
cival, but never under circumstances which renewed
our intimacy. Indeed, by this time he had become
confirmed in his habits of abstraction in life and
manner, which rendered it difficult to enter into his
thoughts or feelings. He even seemed misanthrop
ical, and repelled, as an offense, every thing that
jealousy could suspect to be either interested or in
tended as a gratuity or a favor. There were many
persons ready — nay desirous — to render him efficient
service, but they did not know how to approach him.

In 1824 he was appointed assistant surgeon in the
United States army, and professor of chemistry in
the Military Academy at West Point. This station
he soon abandoned, being disgusted, as he told me,
with one part of his duty — which was to examine
recruits, by inspection of their persons, and ascertain
ing their weight, height, &c. About this time he was
employed and liberally paid by Mr. Samuel Walker,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 139

of Boston, in editing an extensive edition of " Elegant
Extracts," both in verse and in prose ; and afterward
in editing Malte Brim's large Geography, adding
thereto numerous useful notes. About this period
he was also engaged in assisting Dr. Webster, in pre
paring his quarto dictionary. In 1836, he received
from Connecticut a government appointment to assist
in a geological survey of the State. He entered upon
this duty, and his report was published in 1842. In
1852, he received a similar appointment for the State
of Wisconsin, and made his first report in 1855. He
was still engaged in this duty, when his career was
suddenly terminated by death, which took place at
Hazelgreen, in the State of Wisconsin, May, 1856.

With all the knowledge I possess of Dr. Percival's
life and character, he is still, to me, somewhat of an
enigma. That he was a man of powerful imagina
tion and an intellect of great capacity, is manifest :
his poems prove the one — his amazing acquisitions,
the other. That his understanding was even of lar
ger scope and measure than his fancy, is, I think,
apparent, for he not only had a vast range of knowl
edge — precise and reliable obedient to recollection
as the stores of a cyclopedia — yet his powers of com
bination, his judgment, were of the very first order.
This was evinced, not only in his connection with
Dr. Webster's Dictionary, already alluded to, by the
nice discrimination he displayed in philological in
quiries, and the exactitude with which he rendered

140 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

the shadings of sense and meaning, in giving the
definitions of words, but in the larger and grander
surveys of geology — the largest and grandest of prac
tical sciences. Such compass and such precision oi
knowledge — such power of exact as well as vast com
bination — are indeed marvelous. When we considei
him in this aspect, and at the same time remember
that thirty years ago he was captivating the world
with his imaginative effusions, we have indeed a
character of remarkable and almost contradictory ele
ments.

Yet it must be added that, on the whole, his life
was a complete shipwreck. He lived to excite admi
ration and wonder ; yet in poverty, in isolation, in a
complete solitude of the heart. He had not, I think,
a single vice ; his life was pure, just, upright. How
then did he fail ? The truth seems to be, that he was
deficient in that sympathy which binds man to man,
and hence he was an anomaly in the society among
which he dwelt — a note out of tune with the great
harmony of life around him. He was a grand in
tellect, a grand imagination, but without a heart.
That he was born with a bosom full of all love
and all kindness, we can not doubt ; but the golden
bowl seems to have been broken, almost at the fount
ain. By the time he was twenty, he began to stand
aloof from his fellow-man. I think he had been deep
ly injured — nay ruined — by the reading of Byron's
works, at that precise age when his soul was in all

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 141

the sensitive bloom of spring, and its killing frost of
atheism, of misanthropy, of pride, and scorn, fell upon
it, and converted it into a scene of desolation. The
want of a genial circle of appreciation, of love and
friendship, around his early life, left this malign influ
ence to deepen his natural shyness into a positive and
habitual self-banishment from his fellow-man. Such
is the sad interpretation I put upon his career.*

LETTER XXXVII.

A few Wayside Notes — The Poet Brainard — His first Introduction — Rip-
ley's Tavern — Aunt Lucy — The little back-parlor — Brainard1* Office-
Anecdote — The Devil"1* Dun — The Lines on Niagara — Other Poems —
One that is on the Sea — The Sea-bird' s Song — Publication, of Brainards
Poems — General Remarks — His Death.

MY DEAR C******

I have told you that in the autumn of 1823 1
set out to visit Europe ; but a few previous events
are needful to bring my narrative to that epoch. In
1821, clouds and darkness began to gather around my
path. By a fall from a horse, I was put upon crutches

* The notice of Dr. Percival in Kettell's Specimens of American
Poets, was written at my request by Kev. Eoyul Bobbins, of Kensing
ton parish, Berlin, in which the poet lived. It is a beautiful and just
appreciation of his character at that time. I know of no person so com
petent as he to give the world a biography of Percival. He is familiar
with the details of his whole career, and especially with the earlier por
tions of his life, and is, moreover, master of till tbe qualifications requi
site to give interest and value to such a work

for more than a year, and a cane for the rest of my
life. Ere long death entered my door, and my home
was desolate. I was once more alone — save only that
a child was left me, to grow to womanhood, and to
die a youthful mother, loving and beloved* — leaving
an infant soon to follow her to the tomb. My affairs
became embarrassed, my health failed, and my only
hope of renovation was in a change of scene.

* Sweet Spirit passed ! 'Tis not for thee
Our bitter tears unmeasured flow —
Thy path to Heaven is traced, but we,
With grieving heart, must writhe below !

We mourn thy lost yet loving tone,
That made endearing names more dear,

And touched with music all its own

The warm fond hearts that clustered near.

We mourn thy form — thy spirit bright,
Which shone so late mid bridal flowers —

And yet could pour angelic light
Across the last tempestuous hours !

We mourn for thee — so sudden-flown,
When least we thought from thee to sever —

As if some star we deemed our own,
At brightest hour had set forever 1

Unpitying Fate ! thy dark designs
Can spare the weary, wasted, bent,

Yet crush the fairest thing that shines
Where peace and joy have pitched their tentl

Could not the youthful mother claim
Exemption from thy stern decree ?

Could not the child that lisped her name,
Extort one pitying tear from thee ?

Ah, human woes are not thy care !

The lightning, in its plunge of wrath,
Turns not, with heedful thought, to spare

The buzzing insect in its path 1

HISTOEICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 143

But before I give you a sketch of my experience
and observations abroad, I must present one portrait
more — that of my friend Brainard.* He came to
Hartford in February, 1822, to take the editorial
charge of the Connecticut Mirror — Mr. Stone, as I
have stated, having left it a short time before. He
was now twenty-six years old, and had gained some
reputation for wit and poetical talent. One day a
young man, small in stature, with a curious mixture
of ease and awkwardness, of humor and humility,
came into my office, and introduced himself as Mr.
Brainard. I gave him a hearty welcome, for I had
heard very pleasant accounts of him. As was natu
ral, I made a complimentary allusion to his poems,

Forgive us, Heaven ! if thus we mourn

The lost on earth — the blest above —
So rudely from our bosom torn,

With all its clinging ties of love 1

One bright, blest spot of sunshine played

Upon the landscape's varied breast —
Yet there the clouds have cast their shade

And there the deepest shadows rest !

* John Gardiner Caulkins Brainard was the youngest son of Jeremiah
G. Brainard, of New London, judge of the supreme court, whom I have
already mentioned in the history of my military adventures in 1813. His
two elder brothers, William F., a lawyer, and Dyer, a physician, were
botli men of wit and learning; the first died some years since, the latte?
is still living. John, of whom I now write, was born in 1795, educated
at Yale, prepared for the law, and settled at Middletown 1819. He died
at New London, in 1828. The portrait of him in Messrs. Duyckincks'
"Cyclopaedia of American Literature," is from an engraving in the
Token for 1830, and that is taken from a miniature I had painted oi
him, by our mutual friend, Tisdale. It was from recollection, but givea
a pretty good idea of the sad yet humorous, boyish yet manly, counte
nance of the original.

144 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

which I had seen and admired. A smile, yet shaded
with something of melancholy, came over his face, as
be replied —

" Don't expect too much of me ; I never succeeded
in any thing yet. I never could draw a mug of cider
without spilling more than half of it I"

I afterward found that much truth was thus spoken
in jest : this was, in point of fact, precisely Brain-
ard's appreciation of himself. All his life, feeling
that he could do something, he still entertained a
mournful and disheartening conviction that, on the
whole, he was doomed to failure and disappoint
ment. There was sad prophecy in this presentiment
— a prophecy which he at once made and fulfilled.

We soon became friends, and at last intimates.
I was now boarding at " Kipley's" — a good old
fashioned tavern, over which presided Major Rip-
ley, respected for revolutionary services, an amiable
character, and a long Continental queue. In the
administration of the establishment he was ably
supported by his daughter, Aunt Lucy — the very
genius of tavern courtesy, cookery, and comfort.
Here Brainard joined me, and we took our rooms
eide by side. Thus for more than a year we were
together, as intimate as brothers. He was of a child
like disposition, and craved constant sympathy. He
soon got into the habit of depending upon me in
many things, and at last — especially in dull weather,
or when he was sad, or something went wrong with

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 145

him — he crept into my bed, as if it was his right.
At that period of gloom in my own fortunes, this
was as well a solace to me as to him. After my re
turn from Europe we resumed these relations, and for
some months more we were thus together.

Brainard's life has been frequently written. The
sketch of him in Kettell's " Specimens," I furnished,
soon after his death. Mr. Bobbins, of Berlin, wrote
a beautiful biographical memoir of him for Hopkins'
edition of his poems, published at Hartford, in 1842.
A more elaborate notice of his life, character, and
genius, had been given in Whittier's edition of his
"Eemains," 1832. To this just and feeling memoir,
by a kindred spirit — one every way qualified to ap
preciate and to illustrate his subject — I have now
nothing to add, except a few personal recollections —
such as were derived from my long intercourse and
intimacy with him.

Perhaps I cannot do better than to begin at once,
and give you a sketch of a single incident, which will
reflect light upon many others. The scene opens in
Miss Lucy's little back-parlor — a small, cozy, carpet
ed room, with two cushioned rocking-chairs, and a
bright hickory fire. It is a chill November night,
about seven o'clock of a Friday evening. The Mirror
— Brainard's paper — is to appear on the morning of
the morrow, it being a weekly sheet, and Saturday its
day of publication. The week has thus far passed,
und he has not written for it a line. How the days

VOL. II.— 7

14:6 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

have gone he can hardly tell. He has read a little —
dipped into Byron, pored over the last Waverley
novel, and been to see his friends ; at all events, he
had got rid of the time. He has not felt competent
to bend down to his work, and has put it off till- the
last moment. No further delay is possible. He is
now not well ; he has a cold, and this has taken the
shape of a swelling of the tonsils, almost amounting
to quinsy, as was usual with him in such attacks.

Miss Lucy, who takes a motherly interest in him,
tells him not to go out, and his own inclinations sug
gest the charms of a quiet evening in the rocking-
chair, by a good fire — especially in comparison with
going to his comfortless office, and drudging for the
inky devils of the press. He lingers till eight, and
then suddenly rousing himself, by a desperate effort,
throws on his cloak and sallies forth. As was not
uncommon, I go with him. A dim fire is kindled
in the small Franklin stove in his office, and we sit
down. Brainard, as was his wont, especially when
he was in trouble, falls into a curious train of reflec
tions, half comic and half serious.

" Would to heaven," he says, " I were a slave. I
think a slave, witli a good master, has a good time
of it. The responsibility of taking care of himself—
the most terrible burden of life — is put on his mas
ter's shoulders. Madame Eoland, with a slight altera
tion, would have uttered a profound truth. She
should have said — ' Oh, liberty, liberty, thou art a

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 14:7

humbug !' After all, liberty is the greatest possible
slavery, for it puts upon a man the responsibility of
taking care of himself. If he goes wrong — why he's
damned ! If a slave sins, he's only flogged, and gets
over it, and there's an end of it. Now, if I could
only be flogged, and settle the matter that way, I
should be perfectly happy. But here comes my tor
mentor."

The door is now opened, and a boy with a touseled
head and inky countenance, enters, saying curtly —
" Copy, Mr. Brainard !"

" Come in fifteen minutes !" says the editor, with a
droll mixture of fun and despair.

Brainard makes a few observations, and sits down
at his little narrow pine table — hacked along the edges
with many a restless penknife. He seems to notice
these marks, and pausing a moment, says —

" This table reminds me of one of my brother Wil
liam's stories. There was an old man in Groton, who
had but one child, and she was a daughter. When
she was about eighteen, several young men came to
see her. At last she picked out one of them, and
desired to marry him. He seemed a fit match enough,
but the father positively refused his consent. For a
long time he persisted, and would give no reason for
his conduct. At last, he took his daughter aside, and
said — ' Now, Sarah, I think pretty well of this young
man in general, but I've observed that he's given to
whittling. There's no harm in that, but the point

148 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

is this : lie whittles and whittles, and never makes
nothing! Now I tell you, I'll never give my only
daughter to such a feller as that !' Whenever Bill
told this story, he used to insinuate that this whit
tling chap, who never made any thing, was me ! At
any rate, I think it would have suited me, exactly."

Some time passed in similar talk, when at last
Brain ard turned suddenly, took up his pen and be
gan to write. I sat apart, and left him to his work.
Some twenty minutes passed, when, with a radiant
smile on his face, he got up, approached the fire, and
taking the candle to light his paper, read as follows :

"THE FALL OF NIAGARA.

" The thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain,
"While I look upward to thee. It would seem
As if God pour'd thee from his ' hollow hand,'
And hung his bow upon thy awful front ;
And spoke in that loud voice that seem'd to him
Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake,
' The sound of many waters ;' and had bade
Thy flood to chronicle the ages back,
And notch his cent'ries in the eternal rocks !1'

He had hardly done reading, when the boy came.
Brainard handed him the lines — on a small scrap of
rather coarse paper — and told him to come again in
half an hour. Before this time had elapsed, }'* v°4
finished, and read me the following stanza :

" Deep calleth unto deep. And what are we,
That hear the question of that voice sublime ?

llRAINA'lD WRITING "THE FALL OK NIAGARA " Vol. 2, p. '.48.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 14:9

Oh ! what are all the notes that ever rung
From war's vain trumpet by thy thundering side ?
Yea, what is all the riot man can make,
In his short life, to thy unceasing roar ?
And yet, bold babbler, what art thou to Him
Who drown'd a world, and heap'd the waters far
Above its loftiest mountains ? A light wave,
That breathes and whispers of its Maker's might."

These lines having been furnished, Brainard left
his office, and we returned to Miss Lucy's parlor. He
seemed utterly unconscious of what he had done. I
praised the verses, but he thought I only spoke warm
ly from friendly interest. The lines went forth, and
produced a sensation of delight over the whole coun
try. Almost every exchange paper that came to the
office had extracted them : even then he would scarce
believe that he had done any thing very clever. And
thus, under these precise circumstances, were com
posed the most suggestive and sublime stanzas upon
Niagara, that were ever penned. Brainard had never,
as he told me, been within less than five hundred
miles of the cataract, nor do I believe, that when he
went to the office, he had meditated upon the sub
ject. It was one of those inspirations which come to
the poet — and often come like the lightning — in the
very midst of clouds and darkness.

You will readily see, from the circumstances I have
mentioned, that I knew the history of most of Brain-
ard's pieces, as they came out, from time to time, in
his newspaper. Nearly all of them were occasional

150 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

— that is, suggested by passing events or incidents in
the poet's experience. The exquisite lines beginning,

" The dead leaves strew the forest walk,
And wither'd are the pale wild-flowers" —

appeared a few days after he had taken leave of a
young lady from Savannah, who had spent a month,
at our hotel, and had left an impression upon his sen
sitive heart, which the lines, mournful and touching
as they are, only reveal to those who witnessed his
emotions. Many were struck off in the extreme exi
gencies of the devil's dun — his very claws upon him.
In these cases, he doubtless resorted to the treasures
of his mind, which seems to have been largely stored
with the scenery of his native State, and the legends
connected with them. Two elements, in nearly equal
proportion, seemed to fill his soul — the humorous and
the sublime — and often in such contiguity, or even
mixture, as to heighten the effect of each — this, how
ever, being more noticeable in his conversation than
his writings. It was sometimes amazing to watch
the operations of his mind — even in moments of fa
miliarity, often starting from some trivial or perhaps
ludicrous incident, into a train of the most lofty and
sublime thought. I have compared him, in my own
mind, to a child playing upon the sea-beach, who by
chance picks up and winds a Triton's shell, or wan
dering into some cathedral, lays his finger upon the
clavier of the organ, and falling upon the key-note of

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 151

his heart, draws from the instrument all its sound
ing melody.

I trust you will pardon me if I give the history of
one or two other poems, connected with my own ob
servation. I have told you that in the autumn of 1823,
I went to Europe, and was absent for a year. On
parting with Brainard, we mutually promised to write
each other, often. Yet I received not a line from him
during my absence. I knew his habits and forgave
him — though I was certainly pained by such neglect.
On meeting him after my return, I alluded to this.
Without saying a word, he went away for a short
time : on his return, he put into my hands a copy of
the Mirror, which had appeared a few days before,
and pointing to the lines — which I extract below —
he left me. His reply, thus indicated, was indeed
gratifying. You will understand that at the time,
Lafayette had just arrived in the country.

ONE THAT'S ON THE SEA.

With gallant sail and streamer gay,

Sweeping along the splendid bay,

That, throng' d by thousands, seems to greet

The bearer of a precious freight,

The Cadmus comes ; and every wave

Is glad the welcomed prow to lave :

What are the ship and freight to me?

I look for One that's on the sea.

" Welcome Fayette," the million cries :
From heart to heart the ardor flies,

152 LETTERS — BIOGB APHIC AL,

And drum and bell and cannon noise,
In concord with a nation's voice,
Is pealing through a grateful land,
And all go with him. Here I stand,

Musing on One that's dear to me,

Yet sailing on the dangerous sea.

Be thy days happy here, Fayette !
Long may they be so— long— but yet
To me there's one that, dearest still,
Clings to my heart and chains my will.
His languid limbs and feverish head
Are laid upon a sea-sick bed :

Perhaps his thoughts are fix'd on me,

While toss'd upon the mighty sea.

I am alone. Let thousands throng
The noisy, crowded streets along :
Sweet be the beam of beauty's gaze —
Loud be the shout that freemen raise —
Let patriots grasp thy noble hand,
And welcome thee to Freedom's land—

Alas ! I think of none but he

"Who sails across the foaming sea !

So when the moon is shedding light

Upon the stars, and all is bright

And beautiful ; when every eye

Looks upward to the glorious sky ;

How have I turn'd my silent gaze,

To catch one little taper's blaze :
'Twas from a spot too dear to me —
The home of him that's on the sea.

Ought I not to have been satisfied ? If you will
compare these lines with those by Percival, under

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 153

circumstances not altogether dissimilar, you will have
the means of comparing the two poets — the one feel
ing through the suggestions of his imagination, the
other exercising his imagination through the impulse
of his feelings. Percival was a poet of the fancy —
Brainard, of the heart.

Still one more passing note. The " Sea-Bird's Song"
appears to me one of the most poetical compositions
in Brainard's collection, and the history of it can not
be uninteresting. It was written some time after my
return from England, and when I was again married
and settled at Hartford. He was a frequent — almost
daily visitor at our house, and took especial pleas
ure in hearing my wife sing. He had no skill in
music, but, as with most persons of a sentimental
turn, his choice always fell upon minors. One even
ing his ear caught up the old Welsh tune of " Taffy
Morgan," which is, in point of fact, a composition of
great power, especially when it is slowly and seri
ously executed. He was greatly affected by it, and
some one suggested that he should compose a song
to suit it. I remarked that I had often thought the
song of a sea-bird, if treated with ballad simplicity
and vigor, might be very effective. He began to
ponder, and the next day brought a verse to try its
rhythm with the music. This being approved, he
went on, and two days after, came with the whole
poem, which he slightly altered and adapted upon
hearing it sung. Having said thus much, pardon me

7*

154: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

for reciting the lines, and asking you to get some
good ballad-singer to give it to yon, in the cadence
of the old "Welch melody I have mentioned. Thus
sung, it is one of the most thrilling compositions I
have ever heard.

THE SEA-BIRD'S SONG.

On the deep is the mariner's danger —
On the deep is the mariner's death :
Who, to fear of the tempest a stranger,
Sees the last bubble burst of his breath ?
'Tis the sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird,

Lone looker on despair :
The sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird,
The only witness there !

Who watches their course, who so mildly

Careen to the kiss of the breeze ?
Who lists to their shrieks, who so wildly

Are clasped in the arms of the seas ?
'Tis the sea-bird, &c.

Who hovers on high o'er the lover,

And her who has clung to his neck?
Whose wing is the wing that can cover

With its shadow the foundering wreck ?
'Tis the sea-bird, &c.

My eye in the light of the billow,

My wing on the wake of the wave,
I shall take to my breast, for a pillow,

The shroud of the fair and the brave !
'Tis the sea-bird, &c.

My foot on the iceberg has lighted

When hoarse the wild winds veer about ;

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 155

My eye, when the bark is benighted,
Sees the lamp of the lighthouse go out !
I'm the sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird,

Lone looker on despair ;
The sea-bird, sea-bird, sea-bird,
The only witness there !

Where is there a song of more wild and impressive
imagery — exciting more deep and touching emotions,
than this ?

These stanzas were written in the spring of 1826.
The year before I had persuaded Brainard to make a
collection of his poems, and have them published.
At first his lip curled at the idea, as being too preten
tious ; he insisted that he had done nothing to justify
the publication of a volume. Gradually he began to
think of it, and at length — March 14, 1825 — I induced
him to sign a contract, authorizing me to make ar
rangements for the work. He set about the prep
aration, and at length — after much lagging and many
lapses — the pieces were selected and arranged. When
all was ready, I persuaded him to go to New York
with me, to settle the matter with a publisher. I
introduced him to Bliss & White, and they readily
undertook it, on the terms of joint and equal profits.
Thus appeared the little volume, with Bunyan's
quaint rhyme for a motto —

" Some said, ' John, print it' — others said, ' Not so ;'
Some said, * It might do good'— others said, ' ]STo !'"

I must note a slight incident which occurred at

156 LETTERS - BIOGRAPHICAL,

York, illustrative of Brainard's character. He
was keenly alive to every species of beauty, in nature
and art. His appreciation of the beauties of literature
amounted to passion. That he had a craving for
pathos and sublimity, is manifest from his works ;
yet he seemed to feel the nicer and more latent
touches of wit and humor with a greater intensity of
delight, than any other species of literary luxury.
He was hence a special admirer of Halleck, and more
than once remarked that he should like to see him.
I proposed to introduce him ; but he was shy of all
formal meetings, and seemed indeed to feel that there
would be a kind of presumption in his being pre
sented to the leading poet of the great metropolis.

I was therefore obliged to give up the idea of
effecting a meeting between these two persons, both
natives of Connecticut, and peculiarly fitted to appre
ciate and admire each other. One morning, how
ever, fortune seemed to favor me. As we entered
the bookstore of Messrs. Bliss & White — then on the
eastern side of Broadway, near Cedar-street — I saw
Halleck at the further end of the room. Incautiously,
I told this to Brainard. He eagerly asked me which
was the poet, among two or three persons that were
standing together. I pointed him out. Brainard
took a long and earnest gaze, then turned on his heel,
and I could not find him for the rest of the day !

His little volume was very favorably received by
the public, and he was universally recognized as a true

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 157

poet. These effusions, however, were regarded rather
in the light of promise than fulfillment, and there
fore people generally looked forward to the achieve
ment of some greater work. I felt this, and frequent
ly urged him to undertake a serious poem, which
might develop his genius and establish his fame. He
thought of it, but his habitual inertness mastered him.
I returned to the subject, however, and we frequently
conversed upon it. At last, he seemed to have re
solved on the attempt, and actually wrote a consider
able number of stanzas. After a time, however, he
gave it up in despair. He told me, frankly, that it
was impossible for him to sustain the continuity of
thought and consistency of purpose indispensable to
such an achievement. What he had actually done
was merely an introduction, and was afterward pub
lished under the title of " Sketch of an Occurrence on
board a Brig" Whoever has read these lines, can
not fail to lament that weakness in the author — con
stitutional and habitual — which rendered him incom
petent to continue a flight so nobly begun.

One anecdote — in addition to those already before
the public — and I shall close this sketch. Brainard's
talent for repartee was of the first order. On one
occasion, Nathan Smith, an eminent lawyer, was at
Eipley's tavern, in the midst of a circle of judges and
lawyers, attending the court. He was an Episcopa
lian, and at this time was considered by his political
adversaries — unjustly, no doubt — as the paid agent of

158 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

that persuasion, now clamoring for a sum of money
from the State, to lay the foundation of a " Bishops'
Fund." He was thus regarded somewhat in the same
light as O'Connell, who, while he was the great patriot
leader of Irish independence, was at the same time
liberally supported by the "rint." By accident, Brain-
ard came in, and Smith, noticing a little feathery at
tempt at whiskers down his cheek, rallied him upon it.

" It will never do," said he ; "you can not raise it,
Brainard. Come, here's sixpence — take that, and go
to the barber's and get it shaved off ! It will smooth
your cheek, and ease your conscience."

Brainard drew himself up, and said, with great dig
nity — as Smith held out the sixpence on the point of
his forefinger — " No, sir, you had better keep it for
the Bishops' Fund !"

I need not — I must not — prolong this sketch.
What I have said, is sufficient to give you an insight
into the character of this gifted child of genius. In
person he was very short, with large hands and feet,
and a walk paddling and awkward. His hair was
light-brown, his skin pallid, his eye large and bluish-
gray, his lips thick, his forehead smooth, white, and
handsome ; his brow beautifully arched, and edged
with a definite, narrow line. His general appearance
was that of a somewhat clumsy boy. His counte
nance was usually dull, yet with a wonderful power of
expression — wit, drollery, seriousness, chasing each
other in rapid succession. Its changes were at once

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 159

sudden and marvelous. At one moment he looked
stupid and then inspired. His face was like a re
volving light — now dull and dark — now radiant, and
shedding its beams on all around. His manners were
subject to a similar change ; usually he seemed un
couth, yet often have I seen him seductively cour
teous. In short, he was a bundle of contradictions :
generally he was ugly, yet sometimes handsome ; for
the most part he was awkward, yet often graceful ;
his countenance was ordinarily dull, yet frequently
beaming with light.

Thus with a look and appearance of youth — with in
deed something of the waywardness and improvidence
of boyhood, even when he had reached the full age
of manhood — he was still full of noble thoughts and
sentiments. In his editorial career — though he was
negligent, dilatory, sometimes almost imbecile from a
sort of constitutional inertness — still a train of inex
tinguishable light remains to gleam along his path.
Many a busy, toiling editor has filled his daily col
umns for years, without leaving a living page behind
him ; while Brainard, with all his failings and irregu
larities, has left a collection of gems, which loving, and
tender, and poetic hearts will wear and cherish to im
mortality. And among all that he wrote — be it re
membered, thus idly, recklessly, as it might seem —
there is not a line that, " dying, he could wish to blot."
His love of parents, of home, of kindred, was beauti-
'ul indeed; his love of nature, and especially of the

160 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

scenes of his childhood, was the affection of one never
weaned from the remembrance of his mother's breast.
He was true in friendship, chivalrous in all that be
longed to personal honor. I never heard him utter a
malignant thought — I never knew him to pursue an
unjust design. At the early age of eight-and- twenty
he was admonished that his end was near. With a
submissive spirit he resigned himself to his doom,
and, in pious, gentle, cheerful faith, he departed on
the 26th of September, 1828.

Weep not for him, who hath laid his head
On a pillow of earth in the cypress shade ;

For the sweetest dews that the night airs shed,
Descend on the couch for that sleeper made.

Weep not for him, though the wintry sleet
Throw its chill folds o'er his manly breast —

That spotless robe is a covering meet

For the shrouded soul in its home of rest !

Weep not for him, though his heart is still,
And the soul-lit eye like a lamp grown dim —

Though the noble pulse is an icy rill,

By the hoar-frost chained — Oh, weep not for him !

The diamond gathers its purest ray

In the hidden grot where no sun is known —

And the sweetest voices of music play
In the trembling ear of silence alone :

And there in the hush of that starless tomb

A holier light breaks in on the eye,
And wind-harps steal through the sullen gloom,

To woo that sleeper away to the sky !

161

LETTER XXXVIII.

My first Voyage across the Atlantic — England — London — My Tour on the
Continent — Return to England — Visit to Barley Wood — Hannah More
— Inquiries as to Books for Education — Ireland — Dublin — The Giant's
Causeway — Scotland — Scenery of the Lady of the Lake— Glasgow — Ed
inburgh.

MY DEAB C******

It was, as I have already told you, on the 16th
of November, 1823, that I set sail in the Canada,
Captain Macy, on my first visit to Europe. I have
now before me four volumes of notes made during my
tour; but be not alarmed — I shall not inflict them
upon you. I might, perhaps, have ventured to pub
lish them when they were fresh, but since that period
the world has been inundated with tales of travels.
I shall therefore only give you a rapid outline of my
adventures, and a few sketches of men and things,
which may perchance interest you.

Our voyage was — as usual at that season of the
year — tempestuous. As we approached the British
Islands, we were beset by a regular hurricane. On
the 5th of December, the captain kindly informed us
that we were almost precisely in the situation of the
Albion,* the day before she was wrecked on the rocky

* The Albion was a packet ship plying between New York and Liv
erpool. She sailed from the former port April 1, 1822, and went ashore,
on the 22d of the same month. She had twenty-four seamen and
twenty-eight passengers : seven of the former and two of tho latter,
only, wero saved.

162 LETTERS- — BIOGRAPHICAL,

headland of Kinsale — at the southeast extremity of
Ireland — an event which had spread general gloom
throughout the United States. As night set in, we
were struck with a squall, and with difficulty the ves
sel was brought round, so as to lie to. The storm was
fearful, and the frequent concussions of the waves upon
the ship, sounding like reports of artillery, made her
reel and stagger like a drunken man. The morning
came at last, and the weather was fair, but our deck
was swept of its boats, bulwarks, and hen-coops. Our
old cow in her hovel, the covering of the steerage,
and that of the companion-way, were saved. We
had, however, some gratis sea-bathing in our berths
— terribly suggestive of the chill temperature of that
abyss which might soon be our grave. The next
morning we took a pilot, and on the 8th of December
entered the dock at Liverpool.

As this was my first experience at sea, I beg you
to forgive this brief description. I had suffered fear
fully by sea-sickness, and had scarce strength to walk

Among the persons lost was Alexander W. Fisher, Professor of Math
ematics in Yale College. He was a young man — twenty-eight years old
— of fine genius, and great expectations were entertained as to his future
achievements. A person who escaped from the wreck, whom I chanced
to meet, told me that the last he saw of Mr. Fisher, he was in his berth
with a pocket-compass in his hand, watching the course of the vessel.
A moment after she struck, and he saw him no more.

The ship went to pieces on the rocks, in face of high perpendicular
cliffs. The people of the neighborhood rendered all possible assistance,
but their efforts were but partially successful. The struggles of the suf
ferers, clinging to ropes, yards, and points of the rocks, in the very sight
of persons on shore, were fearful, and the details given of these scenes,
rendered the event one of the most agonizing on record.

HISTORICAL, ANEODOTICAL, ETC. 163

ashore. I felt such horror — such disgust of the sea,
that I could easily have pledged myself never to ven
ture upon it again. Strange to say, this all passed
away like a dream : my strength revived, and even
my constitution, shattered by long suffering, seemed
to be renovated. With the return of health and spir
its, my journey to London seemed like a triumphal
march. Though it was December, the landscape was
intensely green, while the atmosphere was dark as
twilight. The canopy of heaven seemed to have
come half way down, as if the sky had actually be
gun to fall. Yet this was England ! Oh, what emo
tions filled my breast as I looked on Kenilworth,
"Warwick, and Litchfield, and at last on London !

I remained at the latter place about a month, and
then went to Paris. In April I departed, and visit
ing Switzerland, and a portion of Germany, followed
the Ehine to Cologne. Thence I traveled through
Flanders and Holland, and taking a sloop at Rotter
dam, swung down the Maese, and in May reached
London, by way of the Thames.

I soon after departed for Bristol — taking the re
nowned cathedral at Salisbury and the Druid ical ruin
of Stonehenge in my way. Having reached that city
and seen its sights, I hired a post-coach, and went to
Barley-wood — some ten miles distant. Hannah More
was still there ! The house consisted of a small thatch
ed edifice — half cottage and half villa — tidily kept,
and garnished with vines and trellices, giving it a

164 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

cheerful and even tasteful appearance. Its site was on
a gentle hill, sloping to the southeast, and command
ing a charming view over the undulating country
around, including the adjacent village of Wrington,
with a wide valley sloping to the Bay of Bristol — the
latter sparkling in the distance, and bounded by the
Welch mountains, in the far horizon. Behind the
house, and on the crown of the hill, was a small copse,
threaded with neat gravel walks, and at particular
points embellished with objects of interest. In one
place there was a little rustic temple, with this motto —
Audi Hospes, contemnere opes ; in another, there was a
stone monument, erected to the memory of Bishop
Porteus, who had been a particular friend of the pro
prietor of the place. A little further on, I found an
other monument, with this inscription : "To John
Locke, born in this village, this monument is erected by
Mrs. Montague, and presented to Hannah More" From
this sequestered spot, an artificial opening was cut
through the foliage of the trees, giving a view of the
very house — about a mile distant — in which Locke
was born ! In another place was a small temple built
of roots, which might have served for the shrine of
some untamed race of Dryads.

Mrs. More was now seventy-nine years of age,* and

* Hannah More was born at Stapleton, in 1744. She and her sisters
established a boarding-school in this village, but afterward it was re
moved to Bristol, and became very successful. Hannah More early be
came a writer, and at the age of seventeen, she published a pastoral
drama, entitled " Search after Happiness." Being intimate with Gar

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 165

was very infirm, having kept her room for two years.
She was small, and wasted away. Her attire was of
dark-red bombazine, made loose like a dressing-gown.
Her eyes were black and penetrating, her face glow
ing with cheerfulness, through a lace-work of wrin
kles. Her head-dress was a modification of the coif
fure of her earlier days — the hair being slightly friz
zed, and lightly powdered, yet the whole group of
moderate dimensions.

She received me with great cordiality, and learn
ing that I was from Hartford, immediately inquired
about Mrs. Sigourney, Mr. Gallaudet, and Alice Coggs-
well : of the latter she spoke with great interest. She
mentioned several Americans who had visited her, and
others with whom she had held correspondence. Her
mind and feelings were alive to every subject that was
suggested. She spoke very freely of her writings and
her career. I told her of the interest I had taken,
when a child, in the story of the Shepherd of Salis
bury Plain, upon which she recounted its history,
remarking that the character of the hero was mod
eled from life, though the incidents were fictitious.
Her tract, called "Village Politics, by Will Chip,"
was written at the request of the British Ministry,

rick, she wrote several plays, which were performed. Afterward she
regretted these works, her new religious views leading her to condemn
the stage. She amassed a handsome fortune, and purchasing Barley-
wood, she fitted it up as I have described it. Soon after I was there,
in consequence of the frauds of her servants, her means were ao di
minished, that she was obliged to leave it. She removed to Clifton,
near Bristol, and died September, 1838.

166 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

and two million copies were sold the first year. She
showed me copies of Coelebs in Search of a Wife —
the most successful of her works — in French and
German, and a copy of one of her sacred dramas —
"Moses in the Bullrushes" — on palm-leaves, in the
Cingalese tongue — it having been translated into that
language by the missionary school at Ceylon. She
showed me also the knife with which the leaf had
been prepared, and the scratches made in it to receive
the ink. She expressed a warm interest in America,
and stated that Wilberforce had always exerted him
self to establish and maintain good relations between
Great Britain and our country. I suggested to her
that in the United States, the general impression —
that of the great mass of the people — was that the
English were unfriendly to us. She said it was not
so. I replied that the Americans all read the Eng
lish newspapers, and generally, the products of the
British press ; that feelings of dislike, disgust, ani
mosity, certainly pervaded most of these publications,
and it was natural to suppose that these were the
reflections of public opinion in Great Britain. At all
events, our people regarded them as such, and hence
inferred that England was our enemy. She express
ed great regret at this state of things, and said all
good people should strive to keep peace between the
two countries : to all which I warmly assented.

My interview with this excellent lady was, on the
whole, most gratifying. Regarding her as one of the

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 167

greatest benefactors of the age — as, indeed, one of the
most remarkable women that had ever lived — I look
ed upon her not only with veneration but affection.
She was one of the chief instruments by which the
torrent of vice and licentiousness, emanating from
the French Kevolution and inundating the British
Islands, was checked and driven back : she was even,
to a great extent, the permanent reformer of British
morals and manners, as well among the high as the
humble. And besides, I felt that I owed her a special
debt, and my visit to her was almost like a pilgrim
age to the shrine of a divinity. When I left Amer
ica, I had it in mind to render my travels subservient
to a desire I had long entertained of making a reform
— or at least an improvement — in books for youth. I
had made researches in London, France, and Ger
many, for works that might aid my design. It is true
I had little success, for while scientific and classical ed
ucation was sedulously encouraged on the continent
as well as in England, it seemed to be thought, either
that popular education was not a subject worthy of
attention, or that Dilworth and Mothei Goose had
done all that could be done. In this interview with
the most successful and most efficient teacher of the
age, I had the subject still in mind; and discerning
by what she had accomplished, the vast field that was
open, and actually inviting cultivation, I began from
this time to think of attempting to realize the project
I had formed. It is true that, in some respects, fche

168 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

example I had just contemplated was different from
my own scheme. Hannah More had written chiefly
for the grown-up masses ; I had it in contemplation to
begin further back — with the children. Her means,
however, seemed adapted to my purpose : her suc
cess, to encourage my attempt. She had discovered
that truth could be made attractive to simple minds.
Fiction was, indeed, often her vehicle, but it was not
her end. The great charm of these works which
had captivated the million, was their verisimilitude.
Was there not, then, a natural relish for truth in
all minds, or at least was there not a way of pre
senting it, which made it even more interesting than
romance ? Did not children love truth ? If so,
was it necessary to feed them on fiction ? Could not
history, natural history, geography, biography, be
come the elements of juvenile works, in place of fai
ries and giants, and mere monsters of the imagina
tion ? These were the inquiries that from this time
filled my mind.

Taking leave of Barley-wood and its interesting
occupant, I traversed Wales, and embarking at Ho-
lyhead, passed over to Ireland. Having seen Dublin,
with the extraordinary contrasts of sumptuousness in
some of its streets and edifices, with the fearful squalid-
ness and poverty in others — I passed on to the North.
Having taken a wondering view of the Giants' Cause
way, I returned to Belfast, embarked in a steamboat,
and went over to Greenock. Thence I proceeded

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 169

toward Dumbarton, and in the early evening, as I ap
proached the town in a small steamer, I actually real
ized, in the distance before me, the scene of the song —

" The sun has gone down behind lofty Ben Lomond,
And left the red clouds to preside o'er the scene."

On the morrow I went to Loch Lomond, crossing
the lake in a steamboat ; thence on foot to Callender,
and spent two days around Loch Katrine, amid the
scenery of the Lady of the Lake. With a copy of
that poem in my hand, which I had bought of a peas
ant on the borders of Loch Lomond, I easily traced
out the principal landmarks of the story : " Ellen's
Isle," nearly in the middle of the lake ; on the north
ern shore, "the Silver Strand," where the maiden
met Fitz James ; far to the east, Benain, rearing its
" forehead fair" to the sky ; to the south, the rocky
pyramid called " Koderick's Watch-tower ;" and still
beyond, the " Goblin's Cave." Leaving the lake, I
passed through the Trosachs, a wild rocky glen, and
the scene of the most startling events in the poem.
At last I came to Coilantogle Ford, where the deadly
struggle took place between the two heroes of the
poem — Roderick and Fitz James. Finally, I went
to the borders of Loch Achray — a placid sheet of
water — beautiful by nature, but still more enchant
ing through the delightful associations of poetic art.

" The minstrel came once more to view

The eastern ridge of Benveuue,
VOL. II.— 8

170 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

For ere he parted he would say,
Farewell to lovely Loch Achray.
Where shall he find, in foreign land,
So lone a lake, so sweet a strand !"

But I must forbear. I have pledged myself not
to weary you with descriptions of scenery, and espe
cially with that which is familiar to you in twenty
books of travels. Forgive me this instance of weak
ness, and I will try not to sin again— at least till I
get out of Scotland. Having spent two days in this
region of poetry and romance, I left for Glasgow, and
at last reached Edinburgh.

LETTER XXXIX.

Edinburgh— The Court of Sessions— Cranstaun, CocHurn, Mbncrwf—
LockUart— Jeffrey— Sir Walter Scott.

MY DEAR C******

Think of being in Edinburgh, and Scott, Jeffrey,
Chalmers, Dugald Stuart, Lockhart, there I It was
then decidedly the literary metropolis of the Three
Kingdoms— not through the amount of its produc
tions, but their superiority. The eloquent, sparkling,
trenchant Edinburgh Review was the type of Scot-
tish genius ; the heavy Quarterly represented Lon
don. I had several letters of introduction— among

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 171

them one to Blackwood, another to Constable, an
other to Miss Y . . . . The latter proved fortunate.
Her father was a Writer to the Signet — an elderly
gentleman of excellent position, and exceedingly fond
of showing off " Auld Reekie." Well indeed might
he be, for of all the cities I have seen, it is, in many
respects, the most interesting. I am told it is gloomy
in winter, but now it was the zenith of spring. The
twilight did not wholly disappear till twelve, and the
dawn was visible at one. If nature, in these high.

/ O

latitudes, falls into a harsh and savage humor in win
ter, it makes ample amends in summer.

The very day after delivering my letters, Mr. Y

called on me, and showed me the lions of the town.
Many of them, all indeed, were interesting, but I pass
them by, and shall only linger a short time at the
Court of Sessions, which is the supreme civil court
of Scotland. This, with the High Court of Justi-
tiary — the supreme criminal court — forms the Col
lege of Justice, and constitutes the supreme judicial
system of Scotland. Their sessions are held in the
old Parliament House, situated in the center of the
Old Town.

We entered a large Gothic hall, opening, as I ob
served, into various contiguous apartments. Here I
saw a considerable number of persons, mostly law
yers and their clients — some sauntering, some medi
tating — some gathered in groups and conversing
together. I noticed that many of the former, and

172 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

more especially the older members of the bar, wore
gowns and wigs; others wore gowns only, and still
others were in the ordinary dress. I afterward was
told that it was wholly at the option of individuals to
adopt this costume, or not ; in general, it was regard
ed as going out of fashion. There was a large num
ber of people distributed through the several apart
ments, and in the grand hall there was a pervading
hum of voices which seemed to rise and rumble and
die away amid the groinings of the r£>of above.

Among the persons in this hall, a man some thirty
years of age, tall and handsome, dressed in a gown
but without the wig, attracted my particular atten
tion. He was walking apart, and there was a certain
look of coldness and haughtiness about him. Never
theless, for some undefinable reason, he excited in me
a lively curiosity. I observed that his eye was dark
and keen, his hair nearly black, and though cut short,
slightly curled. He carried his head erect, its largely
developed corners behind, giving him an air of self-
appreciation. His features were small, but sharply
defined; his lips were close, and slightly disdainful
and sarcastic in their expression.

There was a striking combination of energy and
elegance in the general aspect of this person ; yet
over all, I must repeat, there was something also
of coldness and pride. Upon his face, expressive of
vigor and activity — mental and physical — there was
a visible tinge of discontent.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 173

"Who is that gentleman?" said I, to my guide.

" That large, noble-looking person, with a gown
and wig? That is Cranstoun, one of our first law
yers, and the brother-in-law 'of Dugald Stuart."

"No: that person beyond and to the left? He is
without a wig."

" Oh, that's Cockburn — a fiery whig, and one of
the keenest fellows we have at the bar."

" Yes : but I mean that younger person, near the
corner."

"Oh^that small, red-faced, freckled man? Why
that's Moncrief — a very sound lawyer. His father,
Sir Harry Moncrief, is one of the most celebrated di
vines in Scotland."

"No, no: it is that tall, handsome, proud-looking
person, walking by himself.

" Oh, I see : that's Lockhart— Sir Walter Scott's
son-in-law. Would you like to know him?"

"Yes."

And so I was introduced to a man* who, at that
time, was hardly less an object of interest to me than

* J. G. Lockhart was a native of Scotland, and born in 1794. In
1826, he became editor of the Quarterly Review, and removed to Lon
don. In 1853, he resigned this situation in consequence of ill health.
His biography of his father-in-law — Sir Walter Scott — is well known
and highly appreciated. The latter part of his life, Lockhart was af-
iiiric'i \viiii deafness, which withdrew him much from society. He died
in 1854: his wife had died in London, 1887. His son, John Hugh Lock-
hart, to whom Scott dedicated his History of Scotland, under the title
of Hugh Littlejohn, died early. Loekhart had a daughter, who also
has a daughter, and these two are now the only living descendants of
Sir Walter.

174: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Scott himself. Though a lawyer by profession, he
Imd devoted himself to literature, and was now in the
very height of his career. "Peter's Letters to his
Kinsfolk," "Valerius," and other works, had given
him a prominent rank as a man of talent ; and be
sides, in 1820, he had married the eldest daughter of
the "Great Unknown." My conversation with him
was brief at this time, but I afterward became well
acquainted with him.

My guide now led me into one of the side-rooms,
where I saw a judge and jury, and a lawyer address
ing them. The latter was a very small man, without
gown or wig, apparently about forty years of age,
though he might be somewhat older. He was of dark
complexion, with an eye of intense blackness, and
"almost painfully piercing expression. His motions
were quick and energetic, his voice sharp and pene
trating — his general aspect exciting curiosity rather
than affection. He was speaking energetically, and,
as we approached the bar, my conductor said to me
in a whisper — "Jeffrey !"

We paused, and I listened intently. The case in
itself seemed dry enough — something, I believe, about
a stoppage in transitu. But Jeffrey's pleading was ad
mirable — clear, progressive, logical. Occasionally, in
fixing upon a weak point of his adversary, he display
ed a leopard-like spring of energy, altogether startling.
He seized upon a certain point in the history of the
case, and insisted that the property in question rested

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 175

at that period in the hands of the defendant's agent,
for at least a fortnight. This he claimed to be fatal to
his adversary's plea. Having stated the facts, with a
clearness which seemed to prove them, he said, turn
ing with startling quickness upon his antagonist —
"Now, I ask my learned brother to tell me, what was
the state of the soul during that fortnight?" To a
jury of Scotch Presbyterians, familiar with theological
metaphysics, this allusion was exceedingly pertinent
and effective.

We passed into another room. Three full-wigged
judges were seated upon a lofty bench, and beneath
them, at a little table in front, was a large man, bent
down and writing laboriously. As I approached, I
caught a side-view of his face. There was no mis
taking him — it was Sir Walter himself!

Was it not curious to see the most renowned per
sonage in the three kingdoms, sitting at the very feet
of these men — they the court, and he the clerk?
They were indeed all "lords," and their individual
names were suggestive to the ear : one was Robert
son, son of the historian of Charles Y. ; another was
Gillies, brother of the renowned Grecian scholar of
that name; another, Mackenzie, son of the author
of the Man of Feeling. These are high titles — but
what were they to the author of Waverley ?

Mr. Y introduced me to him at once, breaking

in upon his occupation with easy familiarity. As he
arose from his seat, I was surprised at his robust, vig-

176 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

orous frame. He was very nearly six feet in height,
full chested, and of a farmer-like aspect. His com
plexion seemed to have been originally sandy, but
now his hair was gray. He had the rough, freckled,
weather-beaten skin of a man who is much in the open
air ; his eye was small and gray, and peered out keen
ly and inquisitively from beneath a heavy brow, edged
with something like gray, twisted bristles — the whole
expression of his face, however, being exceedingly
agreeable. He wore a gown, but no wig. It would
have been a sin to have covered up that wonderful
head, towering, as we have all seen it in his portraits
— the throne of the richest intellect in the world.*

He greeted me kindly — the tone of his voice being
hearty, yet with a very decided Scotch accent. I told
him I had been to the Highlands. " It is a little too
early," said he ; "I always wish my friends to wait till
the middle of June, for then the ash is in its glory.
Here in the north, summer, as you know, is a laggard.
In America it visits you in better season ?"

" I am from New England, and our forests are not
in full leaf till June."

* Scott was born in 1771— so at this time, 1824, he was fifty-three
years old, at the highest point of his fame, and in the full vigor of his
genius. In 1826 he was involved in the failure of the Ballantynvs—
printers arm publishers — to an extent of $700,000. He made pr<>',
eiforts to liquidate this immense debt, and had laid the foundation for
its payment, when his overwrought brain gave way, and he died of
paralysis, September 21, 1832. He married Miss Carpenter in 1797, and
had four children: Walter, Sophia, who married Lockhaft, Ann, and
Charles. All are now dead. Abbotsford remains in the family.

Sin WALTER SCOTT, AS CI.EKK OK THE COURT OK SESSIONS Vol ,2. p. 1 f»

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 177

"Yes, jour climate there is somewhat like ours.
Are you from Boston ?"

"I am from Hartford, in Connecticut — of which
you have perhaps never heard."

" My American geography is not very minute ; yet
Connecticut is a familiar name to my ear. Do you
know Mr. Irving?"

" I have never seen him but once."

"Mr. Cooper?"

" Yes, I know him well."

" Do you stay long in Edinburgh ?"

"A few weeks."

"We shall meet again, then, and talk these matters
over."

So I had seen the author of Waverley ! I leave
you to guess my emotions, for I could not describe
them.

LETTER XL.

Preparations for a Ride — Mr. Jeffrey in a Rough-and-tumble — A Glanct
at EdinburghfromtheBraidHdls—ASlwwer—Tke Maids of tJie Mistr—
Durable Impressions.

MY DEAR C ******

I found a note — May 31st — at my hotel, from

Miss Y , inviting me to breakfast. I went at ten,

and we had a pleasant chat. She then proposed a ride,
,and I accepted. She was already in her riding-habit,

178 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

and putting on a hat and collar — both of rather mas
culine gender, yet not uncomely — we went forth. We
were in Queen-street, No. 48 ; passing along a short
distance, we turned a corner to the left, mounted the
steps of a fine house, and rang. We entered, and I
was introduced to the proprietor, Mrs. Russell. She
led us into another room, and there, on the floor, in
a romp with her two boys, was a small, dark man.
He arose, and behold, it was Francis Jeffrey !* Think
of the first lawyer in Scotland — the lawgiver of the
great Eepublic of Letters throughout Christendom —
having a rough-and-tumble on the floor, as if he were
himself a boy ! Let others think as they will — I
loved him from that moment; and ever after, as I
read his criticisms — cutting and scorching as they
often were — I fancied that I could still see a kind and
genial spirit shining through them all. At least it is
certain that, behind his editorial causticity, there was
in private life a fund of gentleness arid geniality

* Mr. Jeffrey was born in Edinburgh in 1773. He was admitted to
the bar at the age of twenty-one ; having little practice for a time, he
sedulously pursued the study of belles-lettres, history, ethics, criticism,
&c. In 1802, at the age of twenty-nine, he founded the Edinburgh
Keview, of which he continued as principal editor till 1829 — placing it
above every other work of the kind which had ever appeared. In 1816
he was acknowledged to be at the head of the Scottish bar as an advo
cate. Having held other high stations, he was appointed, in 1880, Lord-
Advocate of Scotland, and became a member of Parliament. In 1834
he was raised to the bench as one of the judges of the Court of Sessions.
He died at Edinburgh in 1850. He married in 1813, at New York, Miss
Wilkes, grand-niece of the celebrated John Wilkes of England. lu
1815 he became the occupant of the villa of Craigcrook, near Edinburgh,
anciently a monastery, but improved and beautified. Here he was re
siding at the time I saw him.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 179

which endeared him to all who enjoyed his intimacy.
I was now introduced to him, and he seemed a totally
different being from the fierce and fiery gladiator of
the legal arena, where I had before seen him. His
manners were gentle and gentlemanly — polite to the
ladies and gracious to me.

Jeffrey's house was some two miles from town.
His custom was to come to the city on horseback —
and Mrs. Russell being his friend, he frequently
stopped at her house, leaving his horse in her stable.
Some gossiping scandal arose from this intimacy, but
it was, of course, not only idle, but absurd. We
found Mrs. Bussell in a riding-dress, and prepared to
accompany us in our excursion. Taking leave of
Mr. Jeffrey, we went to the stable, where were nearly
a dozen horses, of various kinds and adapted to va
rious uses. Miss Y . . . . chose a shaggy gray pony,
half savage and half pet; Mrs. Russell mounted a
long, lean, clean-limbed hunter; and I, at her sug
gestion, took Mr. Jeffrey's mare — a bay, rollicking
cob, with a gait like a saw-mill — as I found to my
cost.

We walked our steeds gently out of town, but on
leaving the pavements the ladies struck into a vigor
ous trot. Up and down the hills we went, the turn
pike gates flying open at our approach, the servant
hrh hid, paying the tolls. We passed out of the city
by Holy Rood, and swept round to the east of Ar
thur's seat, leaving Portobello on the left. We rode

180 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

steadily, noting a few objects as we passed, until at
last, leaching an elevated mound, we paused, and the
ladies directed rny attention to the scenes around.
We were some two miles south of the town, upon one
of the slopes of the Braid Hills. Ah, what a view
was before us! The city, a vast, smoking hive, to
the north ; and to the right, Arthur's Seat, bald and
blue, seeming to rise up and almost peep into its streets
and chimneys. Over and beyond all, was the sea. The
whole area between the point where we stood and
that vast azure line, blending with the sky, was a
series of abrupt hills and dimpling valleys, threaded
by a network of highways and byways — honeycomb
ed in spots by cities and villages, and elsewhere sprin
kled with country-seats.

It is an unrivaled scene of varied beauty and in
terest. The natural site of Edinburgh is remarkable,
consisting of three rocky ledges, steepling over deep
ravines. These have all been modified by art ; in
one place a lake has been dried up, and is now cov
ered with roads, bridges, tenements, gardens, and
lawns. The sides of the cliifs are in some instances
covered with masses of buildings, the edifices occa
sionally rising tier upon tier — in one place present
ing a line of houses a dozen stories in height ! The
city is divided by a deep chasm into two distinct
parts, the Old Town, dun and smoky, and justifying
the popular appellation of "Auld Keekie," or Old
Smoky ; the other the New Town, with all the fresh

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 181

architecture and all the rich and elaborate embellish
ments of a modern city. Nearly from the center of
the old town rises the Castle, three hundred and
eighty feet above the level of the sea — on one side
looking down almost perpendicularly, two hundred
feet into the vale beneath — on the other holding com
munication with the streets by means of a winding
pathway. In the new town is Calton Hill, rich with
monuments of art and memorials of history, and sug
gesting to the mind a resemblance to the Acropolis
of Athens. From these two commanding positions,
the scenes are unrivaled.

But I forget that I have taken you to the Braid
Hills. The panorama, from this point, was not only
beautiful to the eye, but a rich harvest to the mind.
My amiable guides directed my attention to various
objects — some far and some near, and all with names
familiar to history or song or romance. Yonder mass
of dun and dismal ruins was Craigmillar's Castle, once
the residence of Queen Mary. Nearly in the same
direction, and not remote, is the cliff, above whose
bosky sides peer out the massive ruins of Roslin
Castle ; further south are glimpses of Dalkeith Pal
ace, the sumptuous seat of the Duke of Buccleugh ;
there is the busy little village of Lasswade, which
takes the name of " Gandercleugh" in the " Tales of
my Landlord ;" yonder winds the Esk and there the
Galawater — both familiar in many a song; and there
is the scenery of the " Gentle Shepherd," presenting

182 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

the very spot where that inimitable colloquy took
place between Peggy and her companion, Jenny —

" Gae farer up the burn to Habbie's How,
Where a' the sweets o' spring an' summer grow :
Between twa birks, out o'er a little linn,
The water fa's and makes a singan din :
A pool, breast deep, beneath as clear as glass,
Kisses wi' easy whirls the bordering grass.
We'll end our washing while the morning's cool,
And when the day grows hot, we'll to the pool,
There wash oursels — it's healthful now in May,
An' sweetly caller on sae warm a day."

While we were surveying these unrivaled scenes,
the rain began to fall in a fine, insinuating mizzle :
soon large drops pattered through the fog, and at last
there was a drenching shower. I supposed the ladies
would seek some shelter : not they — maids of the
mist — accustomed to all the humors of this drizzly
climate, and of course defying them. They pulled off
their green vails, and stuffed them into their saddle-
pockets; then chirruping to their steeds, they sped
along the road, as if mounted on broomsticks. I was
soon wet to the skin, and so, doubtless, were they —
if one might suggest such a thing. However, they
took to it as ducks to a pond. On we went, the wa
ter — accelerated by our speed — spouting in torrents
from our stirrups. In all my days, I had never such
an adventure. And the coolness with which the la
dies took it — that was the most remarkable. Indeed,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 183

it was provoking — for as they would not accept sym
pathy, of course they could not give it, though my
reeking condition would have touched any other heart
than theirs. On we went, till at last coming to the top
of a hill, we suddenly cropped out into the sunshine
— the shower still scudding along the valley beneath
us. We continued our ride, getting once more soak
ed on our way, and again drying in the sun. At
last we reached home, having made a circuit of fifteen
miles. Scarcely a word was said of the rain. I saw
my mermaid friends to their residences, and was
thankful when I got back to the hotel. What with
the shower, and a slight cold which ensued — I did
not get the trot of Jeffrey's mare out of my bones for
a fortnight. Indeed, long after, during rough weather,
when the gust and rain dashed against my window,
the beast sometimes visited me in sleep, corning in the
shape of a nightmare, carrying me at a furious rate,
with two charming witches before, beckoning me on
to a race. As a just moral of this adventure — I
suggest to all Americans, who ride with Scotch ladies
around Edinburgh, not to go forth in their best dress-
coat, and pantaloons having no straps beneath the
boot.

184r LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

LETTER ILL

William Blackwood — The Magazine — A Dinner at Blackwood? s — James
Ballantyne — Lord Byron and' Lady Caroline Lamb — The General As
sembly of Scotland — Dr. Chalmers.

MTDBABO******

One or two more selections from my journal, and
we will leave Edinburgh. I had delivered my letter
of introduction to Blackwood, and he had treated me
very kindly. He was, professionally, a mere book
seller and publisher — a plain, short, stocky person, with
a large head, bald and flat on the top. He spoke broad
Scotch, or rather sang it, for although all spoken
language, in every country, has its cadences, in Scot
land it is a veritable song. This is more noticeable
among the illiterate, and especially the old women.
I sometimes thought they were mocking me, so em
phatic were their inflexions and modulations. I have
since observed similar intonations in other countries,
especially in Italy, where the rising and falling of the
voice is so marked as to appear like an affectation
of musical cadenzas, even in conversation.

Nevertheless, Mr. Blackwood was an exceedingly
intelligent and agreeable gentleman. The Maga
zine* which bears his name, was then in its glory,

* Blackwood's Magazine was founded in April, 1817, the office of pub
lication being the proprietor's bookstore, 17 Prince-street. The found
er, William Blackwood, died some years since, and the Magazine is

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 185

and of course a part of its radiance shone on him.
He was a man of excellent judgment, even in literary
matters, and his taste, no doubt, contributed largely
to the success of the Magazine. He was in familiar
intercourse with the celebrities of the day — and a
bright constellation they were. He spoke as famil
iarly of great names — Scott, Lockhart, Hogg, Wilson
- -sacred to me, as Appleton and Putnam and the Har
pers do of Irving, Halleck, and Bryant, or Ticknor £

continued by his sons. In general, its tone has not been friendly to
America, and while I was there an article in the May number, 1824,
upon our country, then just issued, excited some attention, and I was
frequently interrogated respecting it. It was entitled the " Five Presi
dents of the United States," and though it was written as by an Eng
lishman, perhaps in order to secure its insertion, Blackwood told me it
was from the pen of a distinguished American, then in London. It was
a somewhat slashing review of the administrations of the presidents,
from Washington to Monroe, the latter being then in office. It em
braced sketches of Adams, Clay, Crawford, and Jackson — i.he promi
nent candidates for the presidency. The following is part of the notice
of Adams.

Supposing a European ambassador to visit Washington, and is intro
duced into the President's house, " He sees a little man writing at a
table, nearly bald, with a face quite formal and destitute of expression ;
his eyes running with water — his slippers down at the heel — his fingers
stained with ink — in summer wearing a striped sea-sucker coat, and
white trowsers, and dirty waistcoat, spotted with ink — his whole dress
altogether not worth a couple of pounds ; or in a colder season, habited
in a plain blue coat, much the worse for wear, and other garments in
proportion — not so respectable as we may find in the old-clothes bag of
almost any Jew in the street. This person, whom the ambassador mis
takes for a clerk in a department, and only wonders, in looking at him,
that the President should permit a man to appear bel'ore him in such
dn-ss, proves to be the President of the United States himself!"

The article was written witli vigor and discrimination, and excited a
good deal of attention. Though free, and by no means dainty in its
criticisms, it was, on the whole, just, and produced a favorable iuiprcs-
nion in our behalf. The author, whoever he was, evidently possessed
eminent qualifications for magazine writing.

186 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Fields of Prescott and Longfellow. Was not that a
time to be remembered ?

Of course I was gratified at receiving from him a
note, inviting me to dine with him the next day. His
house was on the south of the old town — nearly two
miles distant. The persons present were such as I
should myself have selected : among them Lockhart
and James Ballantyne. I sat next the latter, and
found him exceedingly agreeable and gentlemanlike.
He was a rather large man, handsome, smooth in
person and manner, and very well dressed. You will
remember that at this time, it was not acknowledged
by Scott or his friends that he was the author of the
Waverley novels. Perhaps the mystery was even
promoted by them, for, no doubt, it added adventi
tious interest to his works. However, the vail was
not closely preserved in the circle of intimacy. Bal-
larityne said to me, in the course of a conversation
which turned upon the popularity of authors, as indi
cated by the sale of their works — u We have now
in course of preparation forty thousand volumes of
Scott's poems and the works of the author of Waver
ley" — evidently intimating the identity of their au
thorship.

There was nothing remarkable about our meal :
it was like an English dinner, generally — ample,
substantial, administered with hospitality, and dis
cussed with relish. There was a certain seriousness
and preparation about it, common in Europe, but un-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 187

common in our country. We rush to the table as if
eating was an affair to be dispatched in the shortest
possible time : to linger over it would seem to be an
indecency. The Englishman, on the contrary, ar
ranges his business for his dinner ; he prepares his
mind for it ; he sets himself to the table, and adjusts
his legs beneath, for it ; he unfolds his napkin and
lays it in his lap, or tucks a corner within his waist
coat, for it ; he finally qualifies himself the better to
enjoy it, by taking a loving survey of the good things
before him and the good friends around him. He be
gins leisurely, as if feeling that Providence smiles upon
him, and he would acknowledge its bounties by pro
longing the enjoyment of them. As he proceeds, he
spices his gratification by sips of wine, exchanges of
compliments with the ladies and convivial chat, right
and left, with his neighbors. The host is attentive,
the hostess lends a smiling countenance, the servants
are ubiquitous, and put your wishes into deeds, with
out the trouble of your speaking to them.

The first half hour has a certain earnestness about
it, apparently occupied in reducing the Malakoffs of
beef, Mamelons of mutton, and Eedaris of poultry—
that come one after another. The victory is, at last,
substantially won : all that remains is to capture
the pies, cakes, tarts, ices, creams, fruits, &c., which
is usually done with a running artillery of light wit.
Conversation ensues ; now and then all listen to
some good talker; perhaps a story-teller catches,

188 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

for a time, the attention of the company, and then
again all around resolves itself into a joyous and
jovial confusion of tongues. An hour is past, and
the ladies retire. The gentlemen fill their glasses,
and offer them a parting toast ; then they drink
" The Queen," and give themselves up to social en
joyment.

And so it was on this occasion — only that we drank
the King, instead of the Queen, for George IV. was
then upon the throne. Mr. Blackwood was living
in a plain but comfortable style, and garnished his
entertainment with a plain, simple hospitality — which
lost nothing by his occasional interjections of very
broad Scotch. It was delightful to see the easy inti
macy of the persons present : they frequently called
each other by their Christian names — using terms of
endearment, which with us would seem affected, per
haps absurd. " Jammy, dear, tak some wine your-
sel, and hand it to me !" said Blackwood to Ballan-
tyne, and the latter answered in a similar tone of
familiar kindness. The whole intercourse of the com
pany seemed warmed and cheered by these simple,
habitual courtesies. Our own manners, I think, un
der similar circumstances, must appear bald and chill
ing, in comparison.

Nor was there any thing remarkable in the conver
sations — save only what related to Byron. The news
of his death at Missolonghi, on the 19th of April, had
reached Scotland a few weeks before, and produced

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 189

a profound sensation. Even while I was there, the
interest in the subject had not subsided. Mr. Lock-
hart had not known Byron, personally, but he was in
London soon after his departure for the continent,
and at several subsequent periods, and he gave us
many interesting details respecting him. He was fre
quently at Lady Caroline Lamb's soirees, where he
met the literary celebrities of London, and especially
the younger and gayer portion of them. Her ladyship
had flirted with the lordly poet in the heyday of his
fame, and it was said, condescended to visit him in
the guise of a page — her reputation being of that
salamander quality, which could pass through such
fire and suffer no damage. Her lover proved fickle,
arid at last ungrateful, and she retaliated in the novel
of " Glenarvon" — venting her rage upon him by
depicting him as " having an imagination of flame
playing around a heart of ice."

At the time Lockhart thus mingled in Lady Caro
line's circle, Byron was the frequent theme of com
ment. She had a drawer-full of his letters, and inti
mate friends were permitted to read them. She had
also borrowed of Murray the poet's manuscript auto
biography given to Moore, and had copied some of
its passages. This was soon discovered, and she was
obliged to suppress them — but still passages of them
got into circulation. The work was written in a dar
ing, reckless spirit, setting at defiance all the laws of
propriety, and even of decency. One of the chapters

190 LE1TERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

consisted of a rhyming list of his acquaintances, at the
period of his highest fashionable success, in London —
dashed off with amazing power — yet in such terms of
profanity as to forbid repetition, at least in print. It
was obvious, from what was said by Mr. Lockhart and
others, that such were the gross personalities, the
shameful outrages of decorum, and the general licen
tiousness of this production, that it was impossible
for any respectable publisher to be concerned in giv
ing it to the world. The consignment of it to the
flames, by his friends, was as much dictated by re
gard to their own characters, as to the fame of the
author, which was in a certain degree committed to
their keeping.

We sat down to dinner at seven, and got up at
eleven. After a short conversation with the ladies,
we took our departure. As I was getting into my
carriage, Mr. Lockhart proposed to me to walk back
to town, a distance of a mile and a half. I gladly
accepted this proposition, and we had a very interest
ing conversation. Upon intimacy, Lockhart's cold
ness wholly disappeared. He spoke in an easy,
rattling way, very much in the manner of the freer
portions of Peter's Letters. The good dinner had
doubtless cheered him a little ; but not only on this,
but other occasions I had evidence of a more genial
nature than might have been supposed to exist be
neath the haughty armor which he seemed to wear
toward the world.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 191

The next day I went to St. Giles's Church,* to see
the General Assembly, then holding its annual ses
sion there. This body consisted of nearly four
hundred members, chosen by different parishes, bor
oughs, and universities. The sessions are attended by
a Commissioner appointed by the crown, but he is seat
ed outside of the area assigned to the assembly, and
has no vote, and no right of debate. He sits under a
pavilion, with the insignia of royalty, and a train of
gaily-dressed pages. He opens the sessions in the
name of the King, the Head of the Church : the mod
erator then opens it in the name of the Lord Jesus
Christ, the only true Head of the Church ! It appears
that the Scotch, in bargaining for a union with Eng
land, took good care to provide for their religious in
dependence, and this they still jealously preserve :
the Irish, on the contrary, were sold out, and treated
like a conquered people. The commissioner, at this
time, was Lord Morton — who, according to all the
accounts I heard, was a disgrace to human nature.

The aspect of the Assembly was similar to that of
the House of Commons — though somewhat graver.
I observed that the debates were often stormy, with
scraping of the floor, laughing aloud, and cries of
"hear, hear!" The members were, in fact, quite dis
orderly, showing at least as little regard for decorum

* In 1844 a fine church, culled Victoria Hall, way erected for the nice*-
ings of the General Assembly. It is of rich Mediaeval Gothic archi
tecture, with a spire two hundred and forty-six feet in height.

192

as ordinary legislatures. Sir Walter Scott once re
marked, in my hearing, that it had never yet been
decided how many more than six members could
speak at once !

The persons here pointed out to me as celebrities
were Dr. Chalmers, the famous pulpit orator, Dr.
Cook, the ecclesiastical historian, and Dr. Baird, prin
cipal of the University, and caricatured in the print-
shops under a rude portrait of his large face, nearly
covered with hair, the whole labeled, Principal Beard.
The first of these was now at the height of his fame.
He had already begun those reforms which, some
years later, resulted in a disruption of the Scottish
Church. At this period the Assembly was divided
into two opposite parties, the Moderate, and the Souna
— the former contending for the old doctrine, that
presbyteries were bound to receive and accept every
qualified preacher, presented by the crown, or others
exercising the right of such preferment, and the lat
ter opposing it. The importance of the question lay
in the fact that a large number of the places in the
Church were in the gift of the crown, and many others
in the hands of lay -patrons, and these were frequent
ly bestowed in such a manner as to accumulate
two or more benefices in the hands of one person.
The great point made by Chalmers was, that one
church, one congregation, however small, was enough
to occupy and absorb the attention of one minister ;
and that a plurality of benefices was both corrupting

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 193

to the Caurch, by making it subservient to patronage,
and destructive of the apostolic spirit, which demands
the devotion of the whole soul to the work of the
ministry.

I had the good fortune to hear Chalmers speak for
a few moments, but with great energy and power, so
as to give me an idea of his appearance and manner.
He was a large man, and as he rose he seemed rather
heavy, slow, and awkward. His face was large, its
outline being nearly circular. His lips, when closed,
were thin, giving a certain sharpness and firmness to
his countenance. His forehead was large and expan
sive, his brow finely arched, his eye gray, and its
expression ordinarily heavy. Altogether his appear
ance, as he first rose to my view, was unpromising.
His speech, his articulation, was even worse, at the
outset, for he had the Fifeshire dialect — the harshest
and most unintelligible in Scotland. He had, how
ever, spoken but a few sentences, when the whole man
was transformed. That heaviness which marked his
appearance, had wholly passed away. Upon his coun
tenance there was an animated yet lofty expression —
firm and fearless, benevolent and winning — while
his voice, pouring out a vast flow of thought, had in.
it a tone at once of love and command, of feeling and
of authority, absolutely irresistible. I felt myself borne
along in the torrent — compelled, yet lending myself
grjiU-fiilly to the movement. Sentence after sentence
fell from his lips, thought accumulated upon tliougut,

VOL. II.— 9

194: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

illustration upon illustration, and yet the listener com
passed every conception and treasured every word.
There was something in his voice so musical, so
touching, that the whole sank into the soul like a
hymn. The general effect was aided by his gestures
and movements, for though by no means graceful,
they harmonized so well with the emotions of the
speaker as at once to illustrate and enforce the gen
eral tenor of his address.

On another occasion I heard Dr. Chalmers preach,
in one of the churches of the city. The crowd was
so great, however, that I saw and heard very imper
fectly. It seemed to me that he was rather calculated
to produce an effect by his oratory, than his writings.
He had evidently wonderful powers of amplification :
he often started topics apparently barren and unsug-
gestive, but soon he called around them a crowd of
thoughts and associations of the highest interest. The
common labors of the minister of the Gospel — enter
ing into the hearts and homes of the rich and the
poor ; now leading to the stately hall, and now to the
squalid dens of vice, poverty, and crime ; now to the
administration of baptism, and now to the sacrament
— this hackneyed routine, by force of his vivid imagi
nation and ardent spirit, presented pictures to the
mind and awoke emotions in the heart, quite over
whelming. He seemed, indeed, like a magician, capa
ble of converting even the sand and stones of the des
ert into images of life and power ; but it appeared

HISTORICAL, AJUECDOTICAL, ETC. 195

to me that in order to do this, the voice and gesture
and presence of the sorcerer, were indispensable. I
have never, in reading any thing he has written —
noble as are his works — at all realized the emotions
produced by the brief, but startling speach I heard
from him in the Assembly.

LETTER XLII.

A Dinner at Lockharfs — -Conversation about Byron — Mrs. Lockhart — Ir
ving — Professor Ticknor — Music — The Pibroch and Miss Edge-worth —
Anecdotes of the Indians — Southey and Second Siglit — Cooper's Pioneers —
The Pilot — Paul Jones — Brockden Brown — Burn* — Tricks of the Press
— Charles Scott— The Welsh Parson— The Italian Base-viol Player-
Personal Appearance of Sir Walter — Departure for London — Again
in Edinburgh in 1832 — Last Moments of Sir Walter — The Sympathy of
Nature.

MY DEAR C******

I hope you fully comprehend that, in these
sketches I am only dipping into my journal here
and there, and selecting such memoranda as I think
may amuse you. Most of these passages refer to
individuals who have now passed to their graves.
It is mournful — to me it is suggestive of feelings inex
pressibly sad and solemn — to reflect that of the long
list of distinguished persons who, at the period I
refer to, shed a peculiar glory upon Edinburgh, not
one survives. Scott, Lockhart, Jeffrey, Chalmers —
these, and others who stood beside them, either shar-

196 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

ing or reflecting the blushing honors of genius and
feme, falling around them— all are gone from the
high places which they then illumined with their pres
ence. I am speaking only of the dead — yet I remem
ber them as living, and — though their history, their
works, their fame, are familiar to you — it may still
interest you to go back and participate in recollec
tions of them — their persons, speech, manner — and
thus, in some degree, see them as they were seen, and
know them as they were known. I pray you to ac
cept these passages from my journal, as glimpses only
of what I saw, and not as pretending at all to a reg
ular account of my travels and observations, at the
time referred to.

On Wednesday, June 2, I dined with Mr. Lock-
hart — 25 Northumberland-street. Besides the host
and hostess, there were present Sir Walter Scott, his
son, Charles Scott, Mr. Blackwood, Mr. Robinson,
and three or four other persons. At dinner I sat next
Sir Walter — an arrangement made, I believe, in com
pliment to myself. Every thing went off pleasantly
— with the usual ease, hospitality, and heartiness of
an English dinner. The house and furniture were
plain and handsome — such as were common to people
of good condition and good taste.

The meal was discussed with the usual relish, and
with the usual garnish of wit and pleasantry. After
the ladies had retired, the conversation became gen
eral and. animated. Byron was the engrossing topic.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 197

Sir "Walter spoke of him with the deepest feeling of
admiration and regret. A few weeks before, on the
receipt of the news of his death, he had written an
obituary notice of him, in which he compared him
to the sun, withdrawn from the heavens at the very
moment when every telescope was leveled to discover
either his glory or his spots. He expressed the opin
ion that Byron was " dying of home-sickness" — that
being his phrase. For a long time he had flouted
England, and seemed to glory alike in his exile and
his shame. Yet all this time his heart was devoured
with " the fiend ennui." He went to Greece, in the
hope of doing some gallant deed that would wipe out
his disgrace, and create for him such sympathy in the
breasts of his countrymen, as would enable him to
return — his " faults forgiven and his sins forgot."

Lockhaft and Blackwood both told stories, and we
passed a pleasant half hour. The wine was at last
rather low, and our host ordered the servant to bring
more. Upon which Scott said — " No, no, Lokert" —
such was his pronunciation of his son-in-law's name
— " we have had enough : let us go and see the la
dies." And so we gathered to the parlor.

Mrs. Lockhart was now apparently about two and
twenty years old — small in person, and girl-like in
manner. Her hair was light-brown, cut short, and
curled in her neck and around her face. Her cheeks
were blooming, and her countenance full of cheerful
ness. Her address was at once graceful and gracious

198 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

— indicating a lively, appreciative nature and the finest
breeding. She had a son, four years old, and at my
request, he was brought in. He was a fine boy,
" very like his father," but alas, doomed to an early
death. *

Mrs. Lockhart spoke with great interest of Mr. Ir
ving, who had visited the family at Abbotsford. She
.said that he slept in a room which looked out on the
Tweed. In the morning as he came down to break
fast, he was very pale, and being asked the reason,
confessed that he had not been able to sleep. The
sight of the Tweed from his window, and the con
sciousness of being at Abbotsford, so filled his imagi
nation — so excited his feelings, as to deprive him of
slumber. She also spoke of Professor Ticknor — lay
ing the accent on the last syllable — as having been
at Abbotsford, and leaving behind him the most
agreeable impressions.

Our lively hostess was requested to give us some
music, and instantly complied — the harp being her
instrument. She sang Scotch airs, and played sev
eral pibrochs — all with taste and feeling. Her range
of tunes seemed inexhaustible. Her father sat by,
and entered heartily into the performances. He beat
time vigorously with his lame leg, and frequently
helped out a chorus, the heartiness of his tones ma
king up for some delinquencies in tune and time.

* He died at London, Dec. 15, 1831 ; his mother followed him, May
17, 1837.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 199

Often he made remarks upon the songs, and told an
ecdotes respecting them. When a certain pibroch
had been played, he said it reminded him of the first
time he ever saw Miss Edgeworth. There had come
to Abbotsford, a wild Gaelic peasant from the neigh
borhood of Staifa, and it was proposed to him to
sing a pibroch, common in that region. He had con
sented, but required the whole party present, to sit in
a circle on the floor, while he should sing the song,
and perform a certain pantomimic accompaniment, in
the center. All was accordingly arranged in the great
hall, and the performer had just begun his wild chant,
when in walked a small but stately lady, and an
nounced herself as Miss Edgeworth !

Mrs. Lockhart asked me about the American In
dians — expressing great curiosity concerning them. I
told the story of one who was tempted to go into the
rapids of the Niagara river, just above the Falls, for
a bottle of rum. This he took with him, and having
swam out to the point agreed upon, he turned back
and attempted to regain the land. For a long time
the result was doubtful : he struggled powerfully,
but in vain. Inch by inch, he receded from the shore,
and at last, finding his doom sealed, he raised himself
above the water, wrenched the cork from the bottle,
and putting the latter to his lips, yielded to the cur
rent, and thus went down to his doom.

Mrs. Lockhart made some exclamations of mingled
admiration and horror. Sir Walter then said that he

200 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

had read an account of an Indian, who was in a boat,
approaching a cataract ; by some accident, it wag
drawn into the current, and the savage saw that his
escape was impossible. Upon this he arose, wrapped
his robe of skins around him, seated himself erect,
and with an air of imperturbable gravity, went over
the falls.

" That is sublime," said Mrs. Lockhart : " as if he
were preparing to meet the Great Spirit, and he
thought it proper to enter his presence wit<h dignity 1"

11 The most remarkable thing about the American
Indians," said Blackwood, " is their being able to fol
low in the trail of their enemies, by their footprints
left in the leaves, upon the*grass, and even upon the
moss of the rocks. The accounts given of this seem
hardly credible."

"I can readily believe it, however," said Sir Wal
ter. " You must remember that this is a part of their
education. I have learned at Abbotsford to discrim
inate between the hoof-marks of all our neighbors'
horses, and I taught the same thing to Mrs. Lockhart.
It is, after all, not so difficult as you might think.
Every horse's foot has some peculiarity — either of
size, shoeing, or manner of striking the earth. I was
once walking with Southey — a mile or more from
home — across the fields. At last we came to a bridle
path, leading toward Abbotsford, and here I noticed
fresh hoof-prints. Of this I said nothing ; but paus
ing and looking up with an inspired expression, I

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 201

said to Southey — ' I have a gift of second sight : we
shall have a stranger to dinner !'

" ' And what may be his name ?' was the reply.

" « Scott,' said I.

" ' Ah, it is some relation of yours,' he said ; ' you
have invited him, and you would pass off as an ex
ample of your Scottish gift of prophecy, a matter
previously agreed upon !'

" ' Not at all,' said I. * I assure you that till this
moment I never thought of such a thing.'

" When we got home, I was told that Mr. Scott, a
farmer living some three or four miles distant, and a
relative of mine, was waiting to see me. Southey
looked astounded. The man remained to dinner, and
he was asked if he had given any intimation of his
coming. He replied in the negative : that indeed he
had no idea of visiting Abbotsford when he left home.
After enjoying Southey 's wonder for some time, I
told him that I saw the tracks of Mr. Scott's horse
in the bridle-path, and inferring that he was going to
Abbotsford, easily foresaw that we should have him
to dinner."

Mrs. Lockhart confirmed her father's statement,
and told how, in walking over the country together,
they had often amused themselves in studying the
hoof-prints along the roads.

Mr. Lockhart returned to the Indians. u I have
lately been reading an exceedingly clever American
novel, entitled the Pioneers, by Cooper. His descrip-

9*

202 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL.

tive power is very great, and I think he has opened
a new field of romance, especially in the hunters
along the frontiers, who, in their intercourse with
savages, have become half savage themselves. That
border life is full of incident, adventure, poetry ; the
character of Leatherstocking is original and striking."

al have not seen the Pioneers," said Scott ; " but
I have read the Pilot by the same author, which has
just been published. It is very clever, and I think
it will turn out that his strength lies in depicting sea
life and adventure. We really have no good sea-
tales, and here is a wide field, open to a man of true
genius."

" But, papa," said our hostess, " I should think it
rather a narrow field. Only a few persons go to sea,
and the language of sailors is so technical as to be
hardly understood by people generally. It seems to
me that sea-tales can never excite the sympathy of
the great mass of readers, because they have had no
experience of its life and manners."

" It is no doubt a task of some difficulty," said Sir
Walter, " to bring these home to the hearts of the
reading million ; nevertheless, to a man of genius
for it, the materials are ample and interesting. All
our minds are full of associations of danger, of dar
ing, and adventure with the sea and those who have
made that element their home. And besides, this
book to which I refer — the Pilot — connects its story
with the land. It is perhaps more interesting to me,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 203

because I perfectly well recollect the time when Paul
Jones — whose character is somewhat reflected in the
hero of the story — came up the Sol way in 1778 ID
the Ranger, though I was then less than ten years old.
He kept the whole coast in a state of alarm for some
time, and was in fact the great scarecrow of that age
and generation."

" Mr. Cooper is a man of genius," said Lockhart :
" no one can deny that ; but it seems to me that
Brockden Brown was the most remarkable writer of
fiction that America has produced. There is a similar
ity in his style to that of the Kadcliffe school, and in
the tone of mind to Godwin's Caleb Williams ; but in
his machinery, he is highly original. In his display
of the darker passions, he surpasses all his models."

" That may be true," said Sir Walter, " but it is
neither a wholesome nor a popular species of literature.
It is almost wholly ideal; it is not in nature; it is in
fact contrary to it. Its scenes, incidents, characters,
do not represent life : they are alien to common ex
perience. They do not appeal to a wide circle of
sympathy in the hearts of mankind. The chief emo
tion that it excites is terror or wonder. The suggest-
ivr manner of treating every subject, aims at keeping
the mind constantly on the rack of uncertainty. This
trick of art was long ago exhausted. Brown had
wonderful powers, as many of his descriptions show;
but I think he was led astray by falling under the
influence of bad examples, prevalent at his time.

204: LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

Had he written his own thoughts, he would have
been, perhaps, immortal : in writing those of others,
his fame was of course ephemeral."

The conversation turned upon Burns. Scott knew
him well. He said that Tarn O'Shanter was written to
please a stonecutter, who had executed a monument
for the poet's father, on condition that he should,
write him a witch-story, in verse. He stated that
Burns was accustomed, in his correspondence, more
especially with ladies, to write an elaborate letter,
and then send a copy of it to several persons —
modifying local and personal passages to suit each
individual. He said that of some of these letters, he
had three or four copies thus addressed to different
persons, and all in the poet's handwriting.

The tricks of the London newspapers were spoken
of, and he mentioned the following instance. A pop
ular preacher there, had caused a church to be built,
in which he was to officiate. The time was fixed for
its dedication ; but two days before this, an article
appeared in one of the city prints, describing the
building, and speaking well of it, but suggesting
that the pillars which supported the gallery were
entirely too slight, and it must be exceedingly dan
gerous for any congregation to assemble there ! This
of course produced a general alarm, and to appease
this, the proprietor found it necessary to have a sur
vey made by an architect. This was done, and the
architect declared, that, as the pillars were of iron,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 205

there was not the slightest danger. The proprietor
took this statement to the editor of the paper, and
begged him to retract his false and injurious state
ment. The reply was — '

" This is doubtless an important matter to you, but
not of the slightest interest to me."

"But, sir," was the reply, "you have stated what
is not true : will you not correct your own error ?"

" Yes, but we must be paid for it."

" What, for telling the truth?"

" That depends upon circumstances : do you sup
pose we can tell every truth that everybody desires
us to ? No, sir ; this is a matter of interest to you :
you can afford to pay for it. Give us ten guineas,
and we will set it all right."

The proprietor of the church had no other resource,
and so he paid the money.

Charles Scott, Sir Walter's second son, a rosy-
cheeked youth of about eighteen, was present. He had
recently come from Wales, where he had been under
the teaching of a Welch clergyman. This subject
being mentioned, Blackwood asked Mr. Robinson — a
very sober, clerical-looking gentleman — to give the
company a sample of a Welch sermon. Two chairs
were placed back to back : Blackwood sat in one — his
bald, flat pate for a desk, and the performer mounted
the other — taking one of Mrs. Lockhart's songs for his
notes. It seerns he was familiar with the Welch lan
guage, and an admirable mimic. His performance was

LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

exceedingly amusing. When he became animated,
he slapped the music down on Blackwood's bald pate,
and in capping his climaxes, gave it two or three
smart, thumps with his fist. Blackwood must have
had a substantial skull, or he could? not have borne
it. At last, even he had enough of it, and when he
perceived another climax was coming, he dodged,
and the sermon was speedily brought to a close.

Mr. Robinson was then called upon to imitate an
Italian player on the bass-viol. He took a pair of
tongs for his bow, and a shovel for the viol, and
mounting a pair of spectacles on the tip-end of his
nose, he began imitating the spluttering of the instru
ment by his voice. It was inimitably droll. Sir
Walter was quite convulsed, and several of the ladies
absolutely screamed. As to myself, I had the side-
ache for four-and-twenty hours.

And thus passed the evening — till twelve o'clock.
I have not told you the half of what is indicated io
the notes before me. These specimens will suffice,
however, to give you some idea of the manner in
which good people unbent in the family circle of Ed
inburgh, thirty years ago. You will readily suppose
that my eye often turned upon the chief figure in this
interesting group. I could not for a moment forget
his presence, though nothing could be more unpre
tending and modest than his whole air and bearing.

His features are doubtless impressed upon you by
his portraits, for they have all a general resemblance.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 207

There was in Mr. Lockhart's parlor, where we were
sitting, a copy of Chantry's bust of him — since re
peated a thousand times in plaster. I compared it
again and again with the original. Nothing could
possibly be better as a likeness. The lofty head, the
projecting brows, the keen, peering glance of the eye,
the long, thick upper lip, the dumpy nose, the rather
small and receding chin — each feature separately
homely, yet all combined to form a face of agreeable
expression. Its general effect was that of calm dig
nity ; and now, in the presence of children and
friends, lighted by genial emotions, it was one of the
pleasantest countenances I have ever seen. When
standing or walking, his manly form, added to an
aspect of benevolence, completed the image — at once
exciting affection and commanding respect.

As to his manners, I need only add that they were
those of a well-bred English gentleman — quiet, un
pretending, absolutely without self-assertion. He ap
peared to be happy, and desirous of making others so.
He was the only person present, who seemed uncon
scious that he was the author of Waverley. His in
tercourse with his daughter, and hers in return, were
most charming. She called him "papa," and he
called her "my child," "my daughter," "Sophia,"
and in the most endearing tone and manner. She
seemed quite devoted to him, watching his lips when
he was speaking, and seeking in every thing to anti
cipate and fulfill his wishes. When she was singing,

208 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

his eye dwelt upon her, his ear catching and seeming
to relish every tone. Frequently, when she was si
lent, his eye rested upon her, and the lines came to
my mind — J

" Some feelings are to mortals given,
With less of earth in them, than Heaven : .
And if there be a human tear
From passion's dross refined and clear,
A tear so limpid and so meek
It would not stain an angel's cheek —
'Tis that which pious fathers shed
Upon a duteous daughter's head!"

After a stay of about three weeks in Edinburgh,
I took a reluctant leave of it, and went to London.
Eight years later, September, 1832, 1 was again there.
Scott was on his death-bed, at Abbotsford. Over
burdened with the struggle to extricate himself from
the wreck of his fortunes, his brain had given way,
and the mighty intellect was in ruins. On the morn
ing of the 17th, he woke from a paralytic slumber —
his eye clear and calm, every trace of delirium having
passed away. Lockhart came to his bedside. "My
dear," he said, " I may have but a moment to speak
to you. Be a good man ; be virtuous — be religious :
be a good man. Nothing else will give you any com
fort, when you are called upon to lie here!"

Oh, what a bequest were these words, uttered by
the dying lips of the mightiest genius of the age!
We may all do well to heed them. Few more words
did he speak ; he soon fell into a stupor, which, on

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 209

the 21st, became the sleep of death. Thus he ex
pired, all his children around him. " It was a beau
tiful day," says his biographer — "so warm that every
window was wide open, and so perfectly still that
the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the
gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was dis
tinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his
eldest son kissed and closed his eyes !"

The signs and symbols of mourning that spread
over Great Britain on account of the death of the
great and good man, were like those which com
memorate the decease of a sovereign. Bells were
tolled, sermons were preached, flags of ships were at
half-mast, nearly every newspaper was clothed in
black. In Edinburgh, every lip trembled in speak
ing of the melancholy event.

Two days after this, I departed with my com
panion for the Highlands. On reaching Stirling, we
found it enveloped in the drapery of dark, impene
trable clouds. We passed on to Callender ; we pro
ceeded to Loch Katrine. All around seemed to be in
mourning. Huge masses of dim vapor rolled around
the pinnacle of Benain; the shaggy brows and rocky
precipices of Benvenue were all shrouded in gloomy
mist. The hoary forests of the Trosachs heaved sad
and moaning in the breeze. The surface of the lake
was wrinkled with falling spray. All around seemed
to wail and weep, as if some calamity had fallen upon
jature itself. He who had endowed these scenes with

210 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

immortality, was dead ; his body was now being borne
to its tomb. While a nation wept, it was meet that
the mountain and the lake, the stream and the glen —
which his genius had consecrated — should also weep.

" Call it not vain ; they do not err
Who say, that when the poet dies,

Mute nature mourns her worshiper,
And celebrates his obsequies ;

Who say, tall cliff and cavern lone,

For the departed bard make moan ;

That mountains weep in crystal rill ;

That flowers in tears of balm distill ;

Through his loved groves that breezes sigh,

And oaks, in deeper groans, reply ;

And rivers teach their rushing wave

To murmur dirges round his grave!"

LETTER ILIIL.

Journey to London — Remarks on England, as it appears to the American
Traveler— The Climate— The Landscape— Jealousies between, the English
and Americans — Plan for securing Peace.

MY DEAR C******

Early in June, I set out for London. My route
led me through the village of Dalkeith, and the pos
sessions of the Duke of Buccleugh, extending for
thirty miles on both sides of the road. We were
constantly meeting objects which revived historical
or poetic reminiscences. Among these was Cockpen,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 211

the scene of the celebrated ballad, and as I rode by,
the whole romance passed before my mind. I fan
cied that I could even trace the pathway along which
the old laird proceeded upon his courtship, as well
as the residence of

"The pennyless lass with a lang pedigree;"
and who was so daft as to reject his offer, although

"His wig was well powthered and as gude as new;
His waistcoat was red, and his coat it was blue
A ring on his finger, his sword and cocked hat —
And who could refuse the auld laird wi' a' that?"

We crossed the Galawater and the Ettrick, and
traveled along the banks of the Tweed — formed by
the union of these two streams. We passed Abbots-
ford, rising at a little distance on the left — its baronial
dignity being lost in the spell of more potent associa
tions. Further on, we saw the Eildon Hills, "cleft in
three" by the wondrous wizzard, Michael Scott — as
duly chronicled in the Lay of the Last Minstrel. We
proceeded along the banks of the Teviot — a small lim
pid stream, where we observed the barefooted lassies
washing, as in the days of Allan Eamsay. We saw
Netherby Hall, and a little beyond CannobieLea, the
scenes of the song of Young Lochinvar. All these,
and many more localities of legendary name and
fame, were passed in the course of a forenoon's
progress in the stage-coach. Scotland is indeed a
charned land!

212 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

One day's journey brought me to Carlisle : thence I
traveled westward, looking with all due delight upon
Wendermere, and Eydal, and Grassmere, and Helvel-
lyn, and Derwentwater, and Skiddau. Then turning-
eastward, I traveled over a hilly and picturesque
country, to the ancient and renowned city of York.
Having lingered, half entranced amid its antiquities,
arid looked almost with worship upon its cathedral —
the most beautiful I have ever seen — I departed, and
soon found myself once more in London.

As I shall not return to the subject again, allow
me to say a few words as to the impression England
makes upon the mind of an American, traveling over
its surface. I have visited this country several times
within the last thirty years, and I shall group my
impressions in one general view. The whole may be
summed up in a single sentence, which is, that Eng
land is incomparably the most beautiful country in
the world ! I do not speak of it in winter, when in-
cumbered with fogs ; when there is

" No sun, no moon, no morn, no noon,

No dusk, no dawn — no proper time of day ;
No sky, no earthly view, no distance looking blue •
No road, no street, no t'other side the way!"

I take her as I do any other beauty who sits for hei
portrait — in her best attire ; that is, in summer. The
sun rises here as high in June, as it does in America
Vegetation is just about as far advanced. The mead
ows, the wheat-fields, the orchards, the forests, are in

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 213

their glory. There is one difference, however, be
tween the two countries — the sun in England is not
so hot, the air is not so highly perfumed, the buzz of
the insects is not so intense. Every thing is more
tranquil. With us, all nature, during summer, ap
pears to be in haste, as if its time was short — as if it
feared the coming frost. In England, on the con
trary, there seems to be a confidence in the seasons,
as if there were time for the ripening harvests ; as if
the wheat might swell out its fat sides, the hops am
plify its many-plaited flowers, the oats multiply and
increase its tassels — each and all attaining their
perfection at leisure. In the United States, the pe
riod of growth of most vegetables is compressed into
ten weeks ; in Great Britain, it extends to sixteen.

If we select the middle of June as a point of com
parison, we shall see that in America there is a spirit,
vigor, energy in the climate, as indicated by vegeta
ble and animal life, unknown in Europe. In the
former, the pulse of existence beats quicker than in
the latter. The air is clearer, the landscape is more
distinct, the bloom more vivid, the odors more pun
gent, the perceptions of the rnind even, I doubt not,
are more intense. A clover-field in America, in full
bloom, is by many shades more ruddy than the same
thing in England — its breath even is sweeter: the
music of the bees stealing its honey is of a higher
key. A summer forest with us is of a livelier green
than in any part of Great Britain ; the incense

214 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

breathed upon the heart, morning and evening, is, I
think, more fall and fragrant. And yet, if we take
the summer through, this season is pleasanter in
England than with us. It is longer, its excitements
are more tranquil, and, being spread over a larger
space, the heart has more leisure to appreciate them,
than in the haste and hurry^ of our American climate.
There is one fact worthy of notice, which illus
trates this peculiarity of the English summer. The
trees there are all of a more sturdy, or, as we say,
stubbed form and character. The oaks, the elms, the
walnuts, beeches, are shorter and thicker, as well in
the trunks as the branches, than ours. They have
all a stocky, John Bull form and stature. The leaves
are thicker, the twigs larger in circumference. I have
noticed particularly the recent growths of apple-trees,
and they are at once shorter and stouter than in
America. This quality in the trees gives a pecu
liarity to the landscape. The forest is more solid and
less graceful than ours. If you will look at an Eng
lish painting of trees, you notice the fact I state, and
perceive the effect it gives, especially to scenes of
which trees constitute a prevailing element. All
over Europe, in fact, the leaves of the trees have
a less feathery appearance than in America ; and in
general the -forms of the branches are less arching,
and, of course, less beautiful. Hence it will be per
ceived that European pictures of trees differ in this
respect from American ones — the foliage in the for-

SCENE IN F.KUI.A.NU. V« 1 2. p. i

HISTORICAL, ANEODOTICAL, ETC. 215

mer being more solid, and the sweep of the branches
more angular.

But it is in respect to the effects of human art and
industry, that the English landscape has the chief ad
vantage over ours. England is an old country, and
shows on its face the transforming influences of fif
teen centuries of cultivation. It is, with the excep
tion of Belgium, the most thickly-settled country of
Europe — nearly three hundred and fifty inhabitants
to the square mile, while in the United States we
have but seven. Massachusetts, the most thickly-
settled State in America, has but one hundred and
thirty.

England, therefore, is under a garden-like cultiva
tion ; the plowing is straight and even, as if regulated
by machinery ; the boundaries of estates consist for
the most part of stone mason- work, the intermediate
divisions being hedges, neatly trimmed, and forming
a beautiful contrast to our stiff stone walls and rail
fences. The public roads are nicely wrought, the
sides being turfed with neat and convenient foot
ways. The railway stations are beautiful specimens
of architecture ; the sides of the railways are all sod
ded over, and often are blooming with patches of cul
tivated flowers. In looking from the top of a hill
over a large extent of country, it is impossible not to
feel a glow of delight at the splendor of the scene —
the richness of the soil, its careful and skillful cul
tivation, its green, tidy boundaries checkering the

216 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

scene, its teeming crops, its fat herds, its numberless
and fall-fleeced sheep.

Nor must the dwellings be overlooked. I pass by
the cities and the manufacturing villages, which, in
most parts, are visible in every extended landscape —
sometimes, as in the region of Manchester, spread
ing out for miles, and sending up pitchy wreaths of
smoke from a thousand tall, tapering chimneys. I
am speaking now of the country, and here are such
residences as are unknoAvn to us. An English castle
would swallow up a dozen of our shingle or brick
villas. The adjacent estate often includes a thousand
acres — and these, be it remembered, are kept almost as
much for ornament as use. Think of a dwelling that
might gratify the pride of a prince, surrounded by
several square miles of wooded park, and shaven
lawn, and winding stream, and swelling hill, and all
having been for a hundred, perhaps five hundred
years, subjected to every improvement which the
highest art could suggest ! There is certainly a union
of unrivaled beauty and magnificence in the lordly
estates of England. We have nothing in America
which at all resembles them.

And then there is every grade of imitation of these
high examples, scattered over the whole country.
The greater part of the surface of England belongs to
wealthy proprietors, and these have alike the desire
and the ability to give an aspect of neatness, finish,
and elegance, not only to their dwellings and the

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 217

immediate grounds, but to their entire estates. The
prevailing standard of taste thus leads to a universal
beautifying of the surface of the country. Even the
cottager feels the influence of this omnipresent spirit ;
the brown thatch over his dwelling, and the hedge
before his door, must be neatly trimmed ; the green
ivy must clamber up and festoon his windows, and
the little yard in front must bloom with roses and
lilies, and other gentle flowers, in their season.

And thus cold, foggy England is made the para
dise of the earth — at least during this charming
month of June. Nature now, in compensation for
her ill humor at other seasons, aids in this universal
decoration. Through the whole summer — nay, in au
tumn, and even in winter — the verdure of the Eng
lish landscape is preserved. Not in July nor August,
not even in December, do we here see the grass
parched with heat or grown gray in the frost. It is
true the leaves of the trees fall, as they do with us, in
November — not having first clothed the hills in red
and purple and gold as in America, but, as the Eng
lish poet tells us —

" the fading, many-colored woods,

Shade deep'ning over shade, the country round
Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk and dun,
Of every hue, from wan, declining green,
To sooty dark" —

thus, for a time, seeming to prelude the coming win
ter, with a drapery of mourning woven of the faded
VOL. II.— 10

218 LETTEES BIOGRAPHICAL,

glories of summer. Nothing can indeed be more dis
mal than the aspect of England, when the black, crum
pled leaves are falling in the forests — some yet flut
tering on the branches, and others strewn on the
ground. But even then the sod retains its living
hue, and when at last the leaves have fallen, there is
still a universal mantle of verdure over the fields —
thus redeeming winter from a portion of its gloom.

So much for the common aspect of England as the
traveler passes over it. The seeker for the pictu
resque may find abundant gratification in Devon
shire, Derbyshire, Westmoreland, though "Wales and
Scotland, and parts of Ireland, are still more renown
ed for scenic beauty. So far as combinations of na
ture are concerned, nothing in the world can surpass
some of our own scenery — as along the upper waters
of the Housatonic and the Connecticut, or among the
islands of Lake George, and a thousand other places
— but these lack the embellishments of art and the
associations of romance or song, which belong to the
rival beauties of British landscapes.

You will notice that I confine these remarks to a
single topic — the aspect of England, as it meets the
eye of an American traveler. The English, with all
their egotism, do not appreciate that wonderful dis
play of wealth and refinement, which the surface of
their country presents. They do not and can not
enjoy the spectacle as an American does, for they are
born to it, and have no experience which teaches

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 219

them to estimate it by common and inferior stand
ards. Having said so much on this subject, I shall
not venture to speak of English society — of the lights
and shadows of life beneath the myriad roofs of towns
and cities. The subject would be too extensive, and
besides, it has been abundantly treated by others. I
only say, in passing, that the English people are best
studied at home. John Bull, out of his own house, is
generally a rough customer : here, by his fireside, with
wife, children, and friends, he is generous, genial,
gentlemanly. There is no hospitality like that of an
Englishman, when you have crossed his threshold,
Everywhere else he will annoy you. He will poke
his elbow into your sides in a crowded thoroughfare ;
he will rebuff you if, sitting at his side in a locomo
tive, you ask a question by way of provoking a little
conversation ; he will get the advantage of you in
trade, if he can ; he carries at his back a load of pre
judices, like that of Christian in Pilgrim's Progress,
and instead of seeking to get rid of them, he is always
striving to increase his collection. If he becomes a
diplomat, his great business is to meddle in every
body's affairs ; if an editor, he is only happy in
proportion as he can say annoying and irritating
things. And yet, catch this same John Bull at home,
and his crusty, crocodile armor falls off, and he is the
very best fellow in the world — liberal, hearty, sin
cere — the perfection of a gentleman.

The relations of America to England are a subject

220 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHIC AL,

of great interest to both countries. It would seem
that by every dictate of prudence, as well as of pro
priety, they should remain friends. We are of the
same kith and kin, have the same language, the same
faith, the same moral and social platform, the same,
or at least similar institutions. All these ties seem
to bind us in the bonds of peace and amity. To this
may be added the myriad relations of commercial in
terest. To do good to each other is virtually to earn
and bless our daily bread. And yet we have been twice
at war. There is a social war always being waged be
tween us. The presses of England and America seem
to conceive that they say their best things when they
say their worst, of the two countries. We must not,
then, put too much faith in consanguinity. Family
quarrels are proverbially the fiercest. It is a mourn
ful truth that the first murder was a fratricide.

What then is to be done ? One thing could and
should be done, in England. The press there is in
the hands of the ruling people. If, as is asserted in
England, there is a general feeling of good-will there
toward America, that should be made manifest by
the common vehicles of public opinion. Certainly
this has never yet been done. From the very be
ginning, the British press has been supercilious, hy
percritical, condemnatory of our country, its manners,
principles, institutions. Is it possible — so long as
this state of things shall continue — for the Amer
ican people to believe that the English nation do

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. '^21

not, in their hearts, cherish hostility toward this
country ?

It may, indeed, be said that the American press is
as little conciliatory toward England as that of Eng
land toward America. But, certainly, the good ex
ample should come from them. They are the older
people — the mother country : their journals are more
immediately within the control and influence of lead
ing minds and influential men, than ours. And be
sides, all that is wanted on our part, to a good under
standing, is an assurance, a conviction of good- will,
toward us on the other side of the water. Amid all
our scolding at England, there is at the bottom of the
American heart, a profound respect for her. We care
/ery little what the French, or Dutch, or Germans, or
Eussians, or Chinese, or Japanese, say or think of us ;
but if the English say any thing bad of us, we are
sure to resent it. Why can not something be done
to bring this mischievous war to an end ?

And yet how can it be effected? Let me ven
ture upon a suggestion : if the London Times — that
mighty personification of John Bull — would always
be a gentleman, when he speaks of America, such
would be the influence of this high example, that I
should have some hope of seeing, even in my life
time, a millennial spirit in the intercourse of the two
countries.

222 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL.

LETTER XLIV,

London Thirty Years Ago — Its Great Increase — George IV, — Ascot Races
— The Duke of Wellington — Jacob Perkins and the Steam-gun — The
Duke of Sussex — Dake of York — Hounslow Heath — Parliament — Can
ning — Mackintosh — Brougham — P aimer ston — House of Lords — Lord
Mdon — Rhio Rhio — Catalani — Signorina Garcia — Edward Irving — By-

MY DEAK C******

It is said that Mr. "Webster remarked, while in
London, that his constant and predominant feeling
was that of wonder at its enormous extent : fourteen
thousand streets, two hundred thousand houses, fif
teen hundred places of public worship, three millions
of human beings — all crowded within the space of
seven miles square !

Yet London, when I first knew it, was not what it
is now. Its population has at least doubled since
1824. At that time Charing Cross was a filthy, tri
angular thoroughfare, a stand for hackney-coaches, a
grand panorama of showbills pasted over the sur
rounding walls, with the king's mews in the immediate
vicinity : this whole area is now the site of Trafalgar-
Square — one of the most imposing combinations of
magnificent architecture and tasteful embellishments
in the world. This is an index, of other and similar
changes that have taken place all over the city. Lon
don has been nearly as much improved as New York
within the last thirty years. I know a portion of it,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 223

nearly a mile square, now covered with buildings,
which consisted of open fields when I first visited the
city. At the present day, London not only surpasses
in its extent, its wealth, its accumulations of all that
belongs to art — the richness of its merchandises, the
extent of its commerce, the vastness of its influence —
all the cities that now exist, but all that the world has
before known. What were Nineveh, or Babylon, or
Eome — even if they had an equal population — when
their relations were confined to the quarter of a single
hemisphere, and their knowledge did not embrace
the telescope, the mariner's compass, the steam-engine,
nor the telegraph — neither railroads nor the printing-
press ; — what were they in comparison with the me
tropolis of a kingdom, whose colonies now belt the
world, and whose influence, reaching every state and
nation under the sun, extends to the thousand mil
lions of mankind!

But what of London in 1824? King George IY.
was then on the throne, and though he was shy of
showing himself in public, I chanced to see him sev
eral times, and once to advantage — at Ascot Eaces.
This was a royal course, and brought together an
immense crowd of the nobility and gentry, as well as
an abundant gathering of gamblers and blacklegs.
For more than an hour his majesty stood in the pa
vilion, surrounded by the Duke of Wellington, the
Duke of York, the Marquis of Anglesea, and other
persons of note. He was a large, over-fat man, of

224 LETTERS BIOGEAPHICAL,

a rather sour and discontented countenance. All
the arts of the toilet could not disguise the wrin
kles of age, and the marks of dissipation and dilap
idation. His lips were sharp, his eye grayish-blue,
his wig chestnut-brown. His cheeks hung down
pendulously, and his whole face seemed pallid, bloat
ed, and flabby. His coat was a blue surtout, but
toned tight over the breast ; his cravat, a huge black
stock, scarcely sufficient to conceal his enormous,
undulating jowl. On his left breast was a glittering
star. He wore a common hat, the brim a little broad
er than the fashion. But for the star and the respect
paid to him, he might have passed as only an over
dressed and rather sour old rake. I noticed that his
coat set very close and smooth, and was told that he
was trussed and braced by stays, to keep his flesh in
place and shape. It was said to be the labor of at
least two hours to prepare him for a public exhibi
tion, like the present. He was a dandy to the last.
The wrinkles of his coat, after it was on, were cut out
by the tailor, and carefully drawn up with the needle.
He had the gout, and walked badly. I imagine there
were few among the thousands gathered to the spec
tacle, who were really less happy than his majesty —
the monarch of the three kingdoms.

I not only saw the Duke of Wellington on this,
but on many subsequent occasions. I think the por
traits give a false idea of his personal appearance.
He was really a rather small, thin, insignificant look-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 225

iDg man, unless you saw him on horseback. His
profile was indeed fine, on account of his high Ro
man nose, but his front face was meager, and the
expression cold, almost mean. His legs were too
short, a defect which disappeared when he was in
the saddle. He then seemed rather stately, and in a
military dress, riding always with inimitable ease, he
sustained the image of the great general. At other
times, I never could discover in his appearance any
thing but the features and aspect of an ordinary,
and certainly not prepossessing, old man. I say this
with great respect for his character, which, as a per
sonification of solid sense, indomitable purpose, steady
loyalty, and unflinching devotion to a sense of public
duty, I conceive to be one of the finest in British
history.

At this period, our countryman, Jacob Perkins,
was astonishing London with his steam-gun. He
was certainly a man of extraordinary genius, and was
the originator of numerous useful inventions. At
the time of which I write, he fancied that he. had dis
covered a new mode of generating steam, by which
he was not only to save a vast amount of fuel, but to
obtain a marvelous increase of power. So confident
was he of success, that he told me he felt certain of
being able, in a few months, to go from London to
Liverpool, with the steam produced by a gallon of
oil. Such was his fertility of invention, that while
pursuing one discovery, others came into his mind,

10*

226 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

and, seizing upon his attention, kept him in a whirl
of experiments, in which many things were begun
and comparatively nothing completed.

Though the steam-gun never reached any practical
result, it was for some time the admiration of London.
I was present at an exhibition of its wonderful per
formances in the presence of the Duke of Sussex, the
king's youngest brother, and the Duke of Welling
ton, with other persons of note. The general purpose
of the machine was to discharge bullets by steam,
instead of gunpowder, and with great rapidity — at
least a hundred a minute. The balls were put in a
sort of tunnel, and by working a crank back and
forth, they were let into the chamber of the barrel —
one by one — and expelled by the steam. The noise of
each explosion was like that of a musket, and when
the discharges were rapid, there was a ripping uproar,
quite shocking to tender nerves. The balls — carried
about a hundred feet across the smithy — struck upon
an iron target, and were flattened to the thickness of
a shilling piece.*

* Jacob Perkins was a native of Newburyport, Mass., born in 1776
lie was apprenticed to a goldsmith, and soon was noted for his ingenu
ity. Before the establishment of a national mint, he' was employed, and
with success, in making dies for copper coin. At the age of twenty-four,
he invented the machine for cutting nails, which had a great effect over
the whole world. He next invented a stamp for preventing counterfeit
bills, and then a check-plate, which was long adopted by law in Massa
chusetts. He now discovered a mode of softening steel, by decarboni-
zation, which led to the use of softened steel for engraving. The results
of this discovery have been extensive — the bank-note engraving, now
brought to such perfection, being one of the most prominent. Steel

HISTOEICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 227

The whole performance was indeed quite formida
ble, and the Duke of Sussex — who was an enormous,
red-faced man — seemed greatly excited. I stood close
by, and when the bullets' flew pretty thick and the
discharge came to its climax, I heard him say to the
Duke of Wellington, in an under-tone — u Wonder
ful, wonderful — d d wonderful ; wonderful, won
derful — d d wonderful ; wonderful, wonderful —

d d wonderful 1" and so he went on, without va
riation. It was in fact, save the profanity, a very
good commentary upon the performance.

engraving for fine pictures, was another, and this led to the Souvenirs —
making books the most desirable articles for presents — instead of rings,
necklaces, shawls — thus producing not only a new generation of publi
cations, but a revolution in the taste of society. This discovery Mr. Per
kins carried to England, and here he remained till his death in 1849. His
other inventions are very numerous : among these are the chain-pump,
the bathometer, to measure the depth of water, the pleometer, to meas
ure the velocity of ships, together with a multitude of improvements in
various devices, from house-stoves to steam-engines.

After I left London, he so far improved his steam-gun, that he sent
balls through eleven planks of deal, an inch thick ! A report of his ex
periments in 1825, before a committee, of which the Duke of Welling
ton was the head, describes the power exerted, as absolutely terrific.

Mr. Perkins's establishment was in Fleet-street, 69, when I was in
London. One of the superintendents of this was Mr. Charles Toppan,
now so well known in connection with the eminent firm of Toppan, Car
penter & Co. To his intelligence and kindness I was indebted for
much of the pleasure and profit of my first visit to London. Here also
was Asa Spencer — originally a watchmaker of New London, and the in
ventor of the geometric lathe, for copying medals, as well as other inge
nious and useful devices. He was a man of true genius — full of good
ness, modesty, and eccentricity.

The house of Mr. Perkins, at this period, was a familiar gathering
place of Americans in London — his charming daughters giving a sort
of Aincrii-au lilt: and grace to all around them. His son, Angier M.
Perkins, a gentleman of great talent, worth, and kindliness, continues
his father's establishment in London.

228 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Having thus spoken of the Duke of Sussex, I musf
say a few words of his brother, the Duke of York,
whom I had seen, dressed in a green frock-coat and
white pantaloons, at Ascot. He was there interested in
the race, for he had entered a famous courser by the
name of Moses, for one of the prizes. Some person
reflected upon him for this, inasmuch, as among other
titles, he held that of bishop.* His ready reply was,
that he was devoted to Moses and the profits. De
spite his disgrace in the Flanders campaign, and his
notorious profligacy, both as a gambler and a roue,
he was still a favorite among the British people.
There was about him a certain native honorable-
ness and goodness of heart, which survived, even in
the midst of his debaucheries. English loyalty has
the faculty of seeing the small virtues of its princes
through the magnifying power of the telescope ;
their vices are dwindled into comparative insignifi
cance by being observed with the instrument re
versed. And besides, the Duke of York was now
heir-apparent to the throne, and thus stood next the
king himself.

I saw him not only at Ascot, but on other occa
sions — especially in a review of the first regiment
of foot-guards, at Hyde Park, and again at a re
view of four thousand horse-guards, at Hounslow
Heath. The foot-guards were grenadiers, and their

* It is a curious item in ecclesiastical history, that the Duke of York
was Bishop of Osnaburffh, a district in the kingdom of Hanover.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 229

caps were of enormous height. The duke himself
wore the same kind of cap, with a red coat of
course. Like all his brothers, he was a large man,
and of full habit, though riot up to the dimensions
of the Duke of Sussex. He had a red, John Bull
face, without expression, save that of good feeding.
The Duke of "Wellington, at this time, was among
the spectators. He was now in military dress, on a
fine chestnut-colored horse. His motions were quick,
and frequently seemed to indicate impatience. His
general aspect was highly martial. Several ladies
as well as gentlemen on horseback, were admitted to
the review and within the circle of the sentries sta
tioned to exclude the crowd. I obtained admission
for a crown — five shillings, I mean — for I had learned
that in England cash is quite as mighty as in Amer
ica. The privileged group of fair ladies and brave
men, gathered upon a grassy knoll, to observe the
evolutions of the soldiers, presented an assemblage
such as the aristocracy of England alone can fur
nish. Those who imagine that this is an effem
inate generation, should learn that both the men
and women, belonging to the British nobility, taken
together, are without doubt the finest race in the
world. One thing is certain, these ladies could stand
fire — for, although the horses leaped and pranced a,t
the discharges of the troops, their fair riders seemed
as much at ease as if upon their own feet. Their
horsemanship was indeed admirable, and suggested

230 LETTEES — BIOGRAPHICAL,

those habits of exercise and training, to which their
full rounded forms and blooming countenances gave
ample testimony.

The review at Hounslow Heath, some eight miles
from London — and at the present day nearly covered
with buildings — comprised seven regiments of caval
ry, including the first and second of the horse-guards.
The latter were no doubt the finest troops of the kind
in the world — all the horses being large and black,
and finely groomed. The caparisons were of the
most splendid description, and the men picked for
the purpose. All the officers were men of rank, or
at least of good family.

The performances consisted of various marches
and countermarches — sometimes slow and sometimes
quick — across the extended plain. The evolutions
of the flying-artillery excited universal admiration.
When the whole body — about four thousand horse —
rushed in a furious gallop over the ground, the clash
of arms, the thunder of hoofs, the universal shudder
of the earth — all together created more thrilling emo
tions in the mind than any other military parade I
ever beheld. I have seen eighty thousand infantry
in the field, but they did not impress my imagina
tion as forcibly as these few regiments of cavalry at
Hounslow Heath. One incident gave painful effect
to the spectacle. As the whole body were sweeping
across the field, a single trooper was pitched from
his horse and fell to the ground. A hundred hoofs

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 231

passed over him, and trampled him into the sod. On
swept the gallant host, as heedless of their fallen
companion, as if only a feather had dropped from
one of their caps. The conflict of cavalry in real
battle, must be the most fearful exhibition which the
dread drama of war can furnish. On this occasion both
the king and the Duke of York were present, so that
it was one of universal interest. About fifty ladies
on horseback rode back and forth over the field, on
the flanks of the troops, imitating their evolutions.

You have no doubt heard enough of Parliament ;
but I shall venture to make a few extracts from my
note-book respecting it, inasmuch as these present
slight sketches of persons of eminence who have now
passed from the scene. I have been often at the House
of Commons, but I shall now only speak of a debate
in July, 1824, upon the petition, I believe, of the city
of London, for a recognition of the independence of
some of the South American States. Canning was then
secretary of foreign affairs, and took the brunt of the
Battle made upon the ministry. Sir James Mackintosh
led, and Brougham followed him on the same side.

I shall not attempt to give you a sketch of the
speeches : a mere description of the appearance and
manner of the prominent orators will suffice. Sir
James — then nearly sixty years old — was a man
rather above the ordinary size, and with a fine, phil
anthropic face. His accent was decidedly Scotch, and
his voice shrill and dry. He spoke slowly, often has

232 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

itated, and was entirely destitute of what we call elo
quence. There was no easy flow of sentences, no gush
of feeling, no apparent attempt to address the heart or
the imagination. His speech was a rigid lecture, rather
abstract and philosophical, evidently addressed to the
stern intellect of stern men. He had a good deal of
gesture, and once or twice was boisterous in tone and
manner. His matter was logical, and occasionally
he illustrated his propositions by historical facts, hap
pily narrated. On the whole, he made the impres
sion upon my mind that he was a very philosophical,
but not very practical, statesman.

Brougham, as you know, is one of the ugliest
men in the three kingdoms. His nose is long, and
the nostrils, slightly retreating, seem to look at you
— sometimes to mock you. The mouth is hooked
downward at either corner; the brow is rolled in
folds, like the hide of a rhinoceros. And yet, strange
to say, this odd composition of odd features makes
up a face of rather agreeable, and certainly very effec
tive expression. His figure is a little above the com
mon size, and at the time I speak of, was thin and
wiry — a characteristic which time has since kindly
converted into a moderate degree of portliness. He
had abundance of words, as well as ideas. In his
speech on the occasion I describe, he piled thought
upon thought, laced sentence within sentence, min
gled satire and philosophy, fact and argument, history
and anecdote, as if he had been a cornucopia, and

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 233

was anxious to disburden himself of its abundance.
In all this there were several hard hits, and Canning
evidently felt them. As he rose to reply, I took
careful note of his appearance, for he was then, I im
agine, the most conspicuous of the British statesmen
He was a handsome man, with a bald, shining pate,
and a figure slightly stooping in the shoulders. His
face was round, his eye large and full, his lips a little
voluptuous — the whole bearing a lively and refined
expression. In other respects his appearance was not
remarkable. His voice was musical, and he spoke
with more ease and fluency than most other orators
of the House of Commons; yet even he hesitated,
paused, and repeated his words, not only in the be
ginning, "but sometimes in the very midst of his argu
ment. He, however, riveted the attention of the mem
bers, and his keen observations frequently brought
out the ejaculation of "hear, hear," from both sides
of the house. Brougham and Mackintosh watched
him with vigilant attention, now giving nods of as
sent, and now signs of disapprobation.

The difference between the manner of speaking in
the British Parliament and the American Congress,
has frequently been the subject of remark. There is
certainly great heaviness, and a kind of habitual
hesitation, in nearly all English public speakers,
strikingly in contrast to the easy and rapid fluency,
so common with us. I have heard not only the fa
mous men just mentioned in the British Parliament,

234 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

but Peel, Palmerston, O'Connell, and others, and all
of them would have been considered dull speakers
— so far as mere manner is concerned — here in the
United States. I could never perceive in any of
them an approach to the easy and melodious flow of
Everett, the melting earnestness of Clay, or the ma
jestic thunderings of Webster.

On the occasion I am describing, Sir Francis Bur-
dett* — then a man of notoriety, but now almost
wholly forgotten — made a short speech. He was a
tall, slender person, with a singularly prominent fore
head, the rest of his face being comparatively thin and
insignificant. He was rather dandily dressed, and did
dled from right to left as he was speaking, in a very
curious fashion. His voice was small, but* penetra
ting. His attacks upon the ministry were very di
rect, but he evidently excited no great attention. It

* The history of this individual is curious. He was born in 1770 —
and though the youngest son of a youngest son, by a series of calamitous
deaths, he succeeded to the title and estates of his affluent and ancient
family. His wealth was increased by his marrying, in 1793, the daugh
ter of Coutts, the banker. In 1802, after a hot contest, he was returned
to Parliament for Middlesex, but the House found the election void, and
imprisoned the sheriffs. In 1807, while he was disabled by a duel, he
was chosen for Westminster, and continued to represent that borough
for nearly thirty years. He was of a turbulent disposition, and having
quarreled with the House of Commons, resisted the speaker's warrant
for his arrest, thus creating an excitement in which several lives were
lost. When the sergeant-at-arms went to his house to arrest him, he
found him affectedly teaching a young child the Magna Charta ! He was
for some time imprisoned in the Tower. The general impression is that,
while professing democracy, he was a thorough aristocrat, at least in
feeling. This opinion was confirmed in 1835, when he totally changed
his politics, and vehemently supported the tory side. He died in 1844.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 235

seemed to me astonishing that he should ever have
been a popular leader, for his whole appearance
was that of the affected and supercilious aristocrat.
The populace have very often been made the dupes
of men whose hearts were full of despotism, and
who, in flattering the masses, only sought the means
of gratifying their unprincipled love of power. Ev
ery careful observer has seen examples of this hollow
and base democracy, and one might easily suspect
Sir Francis Burdett to have been one of them.

Of course I visited the House of Lords — paying
two shillings and sixpence for admittance. The
bishops wore their surplices ; a few of the lords had
stars upon the breast, but most of them were without
any badge whatever. The general aspect of the as
sembly was eminently grave and dignified. Eldon
was the chancellor — a large, heavy, iron-looking
man — the personification of bigoted conservatism.
He was so opposed to reforms, that he shed tears
when the punishment of death was abolished for
stealing five shillings in a dwelling-house ! When
I saw him, his head was covered with the official
wig : his face sufficed, however, to satisfy any one
that his obstinacy of character was innate.

While I was here, a committee from the House of
Commons was announced; they had brought up a
message to the Lords. The chancellor, taking the
seals in his hands, approached the committee, bow
ing three times, and they doing the same. Then

236 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

they separated, each moving backward, and bowing.
To persons used to such a ceremony, this might be
sublime ; to me, it was ludicrous — and all the more
so on account of the ponderous starchness of the chief
performer in the solemn farce. There was a some
what animated debate while I was present, in which
Lords Liverpool, Lauderdale, Harrowby, and Grey
participated ; yet nothing was said or done by either
that would justify particular notice at this late day.

A great event happened in the musical world while
I was in London — the appearance of Catalani at the
Italian opera, after several years of absence. The
play was Le Nozze di Figaro. I had never before seen
an opera, and could not, even by the enchantments
of music, have my habits of thought and my common
sense so completely overturned and bewitched, as to
see the whole business of life — intrigue, courtship,
marriage, cursing, shaving, preaching, praying, lov
ing, hating — done by singing instead of talking,
and yet feel that it was all right and proper. It re
quires both a musical ear and early training, fully to
appreciate and feel the opera — which aims at a union
of all the arts of rhetoric, poetry, and music, enforced
by scenic representations, and the intense enthusiasm
of congregated and sympathetic masses. Even when
educated to it, the English, as well as the Americans,
have too practical a nature and are too much grooved
with business habits, to give themselves up to it, as is
done in Italy, and in some other parts of the continent.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 237

Madame Catalan! was a large, handsome woman, a
little masculine, and past forty. She was not only a
very clever actress, but was deemed to have every
musical merit — volume, compass, clearness of tone,
surpassing powers of execution. Her whole style
was dramatic, bending even the music to the senti
ments of the character and the song. Some of her
displays were almost terrific, her voice drowning the
whole soul in a flood of passion. I could appreciate,
unlettered as I was in the arts of the opera, her ama
zing powers — though to say the truth, I was quite as
much astonished as pleased. Pasta and Garcia —
both of whom I afterwards heard — gave me infinitely
greater pleasure, chiefly because their voices pos
sessed that melody of tone which excites sympathy
in every heart — even the most untutored. Madame
Catalani gave the opera a sort of epic grandeur — an
almost tragic vehemence of expression ; Pasta and
Garcia rendered it the interpretation of those soft and
tender emotions which haunt the soul, and for the
expression of which God seems to have given music
to mankind. It was, no doubt, a great thing to hear
the greatest cantatrice of the age, but my remem
brance of Madame Catalani is that of a prodigy,
rather than an enchantress. On the occasion I am
describing, she sang, by request, Rule Britannia,
between the acts, which drew forth immense ap
plause, in which I heartily joined — not that I liked
the words, but that I felt the music.

LETTERS BIOG K APHICAL,

It was about this time that a great attraction was
announced at one of the theatres — nothing less than
the king and queen of the Sandwich Islands, who
had graciously condescended to honor the perform
ance with their presence. They had come to visit
England, and pay their homage to George the Fourth ;
hence the government deemed it necessary to receive
them with hospitality, and pay them such attentions
as were due to their rank and royal blood. The
king's name was Tamehamaha, but he had also the
sub- title or surname of Rhio-Bhio — which, being in
terpreted, meant Dog of Dogs. Canning's wit got the
better of his reverence, and so he profanely suggest
ed that, if his majesty was Dog of Dogs, what must
the queen be ? However, there was an old man about
the court who had acquired the title of Poodle, and
he was selected as a fit person to attend upon their
majesties. They had their lodgings at the Adelphi
Hotel, and might be seen at all hours of the day,
looking at the puppet-shows in the street with in
tense delight. Of all the institutions of Great Bri
tain, Punch and Judy evidently made the strongest
and most favorable impression upon the royal party.

They were, I believe, received at a private inter
view by the king at Windsor ; every thing calculated
to gratify them was done. I saw them at the thea
tre, dressed in a European costume, with the addition
of some barbarous finery. The king was an enor
mous man — six feet, three or four inches ; the queen

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 239

was short, but otherwise of ample dimensions. Be
sides these persons, the party comprised five or six
other members of the king'p household. They had
all large, round, flat faces, of a coarse, though good-
humored expression. Their complexion was a ruddy
brown, not very unlike that of the American Indians ;
their general aspect, however, was very different, and
entirely destitute of that mysterious, ruminating air
which characterizes our children of the forest. They
looked with a kind of vacant wonder at the play,
evidently not comprehending it; the farce, on the
contrary, seemed greatly to delight them. It is sad
to relate that this amiable couple never returned to
their country ; both died in England — victims either
to the climate, or the change in their habits of liv
ing.*

* The chief whom I have here noticed was Tamehamaha II. His
name is now generally spelled Karnehamaha, and his other title is writ
ten Liho-Liho. They sailed in the British ship L'Aigle, October, 1823,
and arrived at Portsmouth, May, 1824. Of the twenty-five thousand
dollars shipped in their chests, only ten thousand were found — twelve
thousand having been robbed, and three thousand taken for pretended
expenses. Kamamalu, the principal queen, and the two or three infe
rior wives of his majesty, exhibited themselves at first in loose trowsers
and velveteen bed-gowns — but ere long their waists, for the first time,
were subjected to corsets, and their forms to Parisian fashions. They
wore native turbans, which became the rage in high circles. The king
was dressed in the English style, with certain embellishments denoting
his rank. They generally behaved with propriety, though one of the
party seeing a mullet, resembling a species common in the Sandwich
Islands, seized it and hurried home, where their majesties devoured it
raw, probably finding it the sweetest morsel they had tasted since they
left home. In June, 1824, the whole party were attacked by the mea
sles, Munui, the steward, first, and the king next. On the evening ol
the 8th the queen died, having taken an affectionate leave of her luis-
buad. Ilib heart teemed to be brokuu, uud cm the 14th ho breathed lug

240 LETTERS BIOGEAPHIOAL,

One or two items more, and this chapter shall oe
closed. Among the prominent objects of interest in
London at this period was Edward Irving, then
preaching at the Caledonian Chapel, Cross-street, Hat-
ton Gardens. He was now in the full flush of his
fame, and such was the eagerness to hear him that it
was difficult to get admission. People of all ranks,
literary men, philosophers, statesmen, noblemen, per
sons of the highest name and influence, with a full and
diversified representation of the fair sex, crowded to
his church. I was so fortunate as to get a seat in the
pew of a friend, a privilege which I appreciated all
the more, when I counted twenty coroneted coaches
standing at the door — some of those who came in
them, not being able to obtain even an entrance into
the building. The interior was crowded to excess ;
the alleys were full, and even fine ladies seemed
happy to get seats upon the pulpit stairway. Persons
of the highest title were scattered here and there, and
cabinet ministers were squeezed in with the mass of
common humanity.

Mr. Irving's appearance was very remarkable. He
was over six feet in height, very broad-shouldered,
violently cross-eyed, with long black hair hanging in
heavy, twisted ringlets down upon his shoulders.
His complexion was pallid yet swarthy, the whole

last. The bodies of the royal pair were taken to their native islands,
and there interred with great pomp. The remainder of the party re
turned to their home, one of them, however, Kapihe, dying on the way,
at Valparaiso.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 241

expression of his face — half sinister and half sancti
fied — creating in the mind of the beholder a painful
doubt whether he was a great saint or a great sinner.
He wore a black-silk gown, of rich material and am
ple, graceful folds. His hair was sedulously parted
so as to display one corner of his forehead, which a
white hand and a very pure linen handkerchief fre
quently wiped, yet so daintily as not to disturb the
love-locks that inclosed it.

There was a strange mixture of saintliness and
dandyism, in the whole appearance of this man. His
prayer was affected — strange, quaint, peculiar, in its
phraseology — yet solemn and striking. His reading
of the psalm was peculiar, and a fancy or feeling
crossed my mind that I had heard something like it,
but certainly not in a church. There was a vague min
gling in my imagination of the theatre and the house
of worship : of foot-lights, a stage, a gorgeous throng of
spectators — an orchestra and a troop of players — and
side by side with these — there seemed to come a psalm
and a text and a preacher. I was in fact seeking to
trace out a resemblance between this strange parson
and some star of Drury Lane or Covent Garden. Sud
denly I found the clew : Edward Irving in the pulpit
was imitating Edmund Kean upon the stage ! And he
siK'.Lvo<lt'd admirably — his tall and commanding per
son giving him an immense advantage over the little,
insignificant, yet inspired actor. He had the tones of
the latter — his gestures, his looks even, as I had often

VOL. II.— 11

242

seen him in Eichard the Third and Shylock. He had
evidently taken lessons of the renowned tragedian,
but whether in public or private, is not for me to say.

The text was Genesis iii. 17, 18. I will extract
from my notes, for your entertainment, a rough sketch
of the discourse.

" This malediction — •' Cursed is the ground for thy
sake ; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of
thy life ; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth
to thee : and thou shalt eat the herb of the field'—
this was the charter under which man held his exist
ence till the birth of Christ, when the benediction —
' Peace on earth and good-will to man,' was pro
nounced. Since that time, these two principles and
powers — the malediction and the benediction — have
been at strife. To trace some of the consequences
of this conflict is our present business.

" Moses discriminates between the two natures of
man, by first stating the creation of his body as the
completion of one distinct part or portion of his na
ture, and then the Creator breathing into him a liv
ing soul, or more literally the spirit of lives, thus
completing the other portion of his being.

" I can not but pause a moment to note the stri
king coincidence between the statement of Moses
and the result of philosophic speculation, which now
makes the same discrimination ; the study of the
structure of the body, or physiology, being one
branch of science, and the study of the mind or spi-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 243

rit, called metaphysics, being another. The French
school, some time since, blended the whole nature of
man in one physical organization, and Helvetius
found in the sensibility of the fingers, all the rudi
ments — the entire foundation — of the moral and in
tellectual faculties of man. This crept into English
philosophy, until the immortal mind was degraded
into a mere tool of the body : the crumbling, earthy
tenement alone was regarded, while the godlike in
habitant was made its servant and its slave.

" Let us do justice to the truth ! The spirit con
sists of three parts : the understanding, which dis-
courseth of sensible ideas and powers — the basis of
what is called knowledge ; the reason, which dis-
courseth of insensible objects and insensible ideas,
and has relation to principles and abstract science ;
and conscience, which discourseth of duty, and hath
regard to the relations between man and man, and
also between man and his Maker.

" Now the proper vocation of the body is to min
ister to the spirit in this threefold character.

"Yet, I grieve to say it — the conduct of mankind
reverses this system : it is the faculties of the spirit,
debased from their high mission, which are every
where made subservient to the body. I am loth to
pain and disgust you with pictures in evidence of
this, but every speculation should be supported by
fact. I beg you therefore to consider the state of
things in this city — the Babylon around us. Divest

244 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

yourselves of that magic influence which is exercised
by the term — people • of that morbid fashion of see
ing in low vice and humble misery, only matter for
mirth and song ; of that cruel taste which haunts the
dark and dismal courts and lanes and labyrinths of
labor, of want and wretchedness, for subjects for the
pencil and the stage. Stand all aloof from the sad
jollity with which unthinking men survey such scenes.
Wrap the mantle of immortality about thee and go
forth, and in the scales of eternity, weigh the things
thou seest !

" In the gray of the morning, you hear beneath
your casement the heavy tread of the laborer plod
ding to his toil. This gradually increases, till one
pervading volume of sound shakes every part of the
city. Go forth and study the scene — the producers
of this mighty uproar — the wagoner plodding by the
side of his heavy wain, the porter staggering beneath
his burden, the scavenger picking and prowling among
the ofM — the hundreds, the thousands, pouring along
in a tide, and bent on their various labors. Survey
them as they pass, and how fearfully is the heart smit
ten with the fact that these are reversing the true order
of human destiny : not one among them is subjecting
the body to the mind — all are subjecting the mind
to the body — all are submitting themselves to the
Malediction of the outcasts of Eden, as if the Bene
diction of the gospel had never been pronounced.
From the gray dawn to the deep night, these beings,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 245

to whom is offered the bread of immortal life, are
occupied with the poor thought of gaining a few
crusts to feed the mortal body !

" If we turn to the higher classes, the picture is
equally dark, and perhaps even more discouraging.
Whatever we may here find of spiritual culture or
intellectual tastes, we still see that the cares, the pas
sions, the desires of the body, though they may often
be disguised and refined, still master the soul. The
being, whose imagination is capable of reaching the
stars, and whose power of faith might carry him to
the throne of God and the companionship of angels
and just men made perfect — those whose ample means
raise them above the groveling necessities of life —
still cling to this earthly footstool, still think only of
the pleasures of this fleeting animal existence. What
ever there may be of soul, in their pursuits, is a sub
jugation of it to the senses. A subtle epicureanism
pervades the whole atmosphere they breathe. Pleas
ure, ambition, pride, the desire of honor, of wealth,
of name, fame — all hopes, all fears — center in the
little narrow kingdom of these poor five senses.
These which were given only as windows from which
the soul might look out upon immortality, are used
as doors and avenues by which the soul passes into
its prison-house of earthly enjoyments. Thus the
gifted, the rich, the exalted, the favorites of fortune
— are, after all, forgetful of the bread of life, and
while pampering the body with oil and wine, are

246 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

starving the soul with shriveled husks and unsatis
fying straw.

" How hard, how disheartening is the steep ascent
of duty, which calls upon us to contend with a world
thus embattled against the truth. And yet, as sol
diers of the cross, we may not ground our arms. If
we can not do all we would, let us at least accomplish
what we may. To-day, I ask you here to join me, not
in the impossible, but the possible. If the poor re
ject the bread of life, it is perhaps not altogether by
choice : the heavy sin of Dives, who, being rich and
able to choose, preferred a sensual life, is not laid
upon their souls — the groveling necessities of Lazarus
have subdued them, crushed them, mastered them. It
is through ignorance, through peculiar temptations,
through the cares and needs of life, that they thus go
astray. The mother, uncertain of bread, alike for her
self and her offspring — the father, anxious lest he shall
not have a shelter for those whom Grod has given him
— how can these think of aught but the immediate
pressing cares of the body ? How can these slaves of
mortality put on immortality? Let Christianity kneel,
mourning and penitent, at the throne of grace, and
confessing that these things are so, rouse itself, and
say they shall be so no longer. I see around me the
great, the powerful : let them speak, and the work is
done. Let us carry Comfort to the poor, and as that
enters one door, the Gospel with its glad tidings, will
come in at the other. Each may do something.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 24:7

None are too high, none too humble, to assist in this
glorious work. The rich, the proud, the strong, in
the confidence of their strength, may reject even the
bread of life ; the poor will welcome it. Believe the
famished body from its suffering for the want of daily
bread, and the soul, delivered from its humiliation,
will ascend to the throne of grace, and God will bless
it, and he will bless you also who have ministered to
the good work."

This is a mere outline of the discourse, and only
gives an idea of its general drift and argument. The
phraseology — which was rich, flowing, redundant, and
abounding in illustration, and seemed to me carefully
modeled after that of Jeremy Taylor — I did not at
tempt to preserve. In spite of the evident affectation,
the solemn dandyism, the dramatic artifices of the
performer — for, after all, I could only consider the
preacher as an actor — the sermon was very impres
sive. Some of the pictures presented to the imagi
nation were startling, and once or twice it seemed
as if the whole audience was heaving and swelling
with intense emotion, like a sea rolling beneath the
impulses of a tempest. The power of the thought,
aided by the deep, sympathetic voice of the speaker,
and still further enforced by his portentous figure
and emphatic action, overrode all drawbacks, and
carried the whole heart and imagination along upon
its rushing tide. Considered as a display of orator
ical art, it was certainly equal to any thing I have

248 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

ever heard from the pulpit; yet it did not appeal
to me calculated to have any permanent effect in
enforcing Christian truth upon the conscience. The
preacher seemed too much a player, and too little an
apostle ; the afterthought was, that the whole effect
was the result of stage trick, and not of sober truth.

The character and career of Edward Irving present
a strange series of incongruities. He was born in Scot
land in 1792 ; he became a preacher, and acquired
speedy notoriety, as much by his peculiarities as his
merits. He attracted the attention of Dr. Chalmers,
and through his influence was for a time assistant
minister in the parish of St. John's, at Glasgow.
From this place he was called to the Caledonian
Chapel, where I heard him. His fame continued to
increase ; and having published a volume of dis
courses, under the quaint title, " For the Oracles of
God, four Orations ; for Judgment to come, an Ar
gument in nine Parts" — three large editions of the
work were sold in the space of six months. Where-
ever he preached, crowds of eager listeners flocked to
hear him. His eccentricities increased with his fame.
He drew out his discourses to an enormous length,
and on several occasions protracted the services to
four hours ! He soon became mystical, and took to
studying unfulfilled prophecy, as the true key to the
interpretation of the scriptures. From this extrava
gance, he passed to the doctrine that Christians, by
the power of faith, can attain to the working of mira-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 24:9

cles and speaking with unknown tongues, as in the
primitive ages. Such at last were his vagaries, that
he was cut off from communion with the Scottish
Church ; in consequence, he became the founder of a
sect which continues to the present time in England,
bearing the title of Irvingites. Worn out with anx
iety and incessant labors, he died at Glasgow, while
on a journey for his health, in 1834, at the early age
of forty -two.

The history of this extraordinary man teaches us
various important lessons. It shows us that genius,
even though it be allied to sincerity, is easily led
astray by flattery and personal vanity ; that eccentri
city naturally ends in extravagance; that fanaticism is
not superior to the use of artifice and affectation, even
when they invade the pulpit and assume the badge
of the preacher of the gospel ; in short, that a man of
great gifts, if so be he is not controlled by common
sense — if he do not conform his conduct to that
every-day but safe regulator, called propriety — is very
apt to become a misguiding and bewildering light to
his fellow-men, just in proportion as his abi^^es may
surpass those of other persons. A large oreervation
of mankind has satisfied me that a great man, even
though he be a preacher, if he despises the sugges
tions of good sense, decency, congruity, usually be
comes a great curse. Nearly all the religious vaga
ries which have led the world astray, have originated
with individuals of this character. A large portion

11*

250 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

of the infidelity of mankind has its origin in the
foibles of those who are set up as the great lights of
Christianity.

One more event I must notice — the arrival in Lon
don of the mortal remains of Lord Byron, and their
lying in state previous to interment. His body had
been preserved in-spirits, and was thus brought from
Greece, attended by five persons of his lordship's
suite. Having been transferred to the coffin, it was
exhibited at the house of Sir Edward Knatchball,
No. 20 Great George-street, on Friday and Saturday,
the 9th and 10th of July, 1824. It caused a profound
sensation, and such were the crowds that rushed to
behold the spectacle, that it was necessary to defend
the coffin with a stout wooden railing. When I ar
rived at the place the lid was closed ; I was told,
however, that the countenance, though the finer lines
had collapsed, was so little changed as to be easily
recognized by his acquaintances. The general mus
cular form of the body was perfectly preserved.

The aspect of the scene, even as I witnessed it,
was altogether very impressive. The coffin was cov
ered witn a pall, enriched by escutcheons wrought in
gold. On the top was a lid, set round with black
plumes. Upon it were these words —

"GEORGE GORDON NOEL BYRON.

BORN IN LONDON, 22n JANUARY, 1788 :
DIED AT MISSOLONGHI, APRIL 19TH, 1824."

liVKO.N's COKKIN. Vol 2, |). 250

V;

;:**

HISTORICAL, ANKCDOTICAL, ETC. 251

At the head of the coffin was an urn containing the
ashes of his brain and heart — this being also covered
with a rich pall, wrought with figures in gold. The
windows were closed, and the darkened room was
feebly illumined by numerous wax-tapers.

And this was all that remained of Byron ! What
a lesson upon the pride of genius, the vanity of rank,
the fatuity of fame — all leveled in the dust, and de
spite the garnished pall and magnificent coffin, their
possessor was bound to pass through the same pro
cess of corruption as the body of a common beggar.
And the soul — the soul ?

Ah, what questions rose in my mind as I stood
beside that coffin ! Where art thou, Byron ? What
art thou? I have never seen thee — I have never
known thee, face to face : yet hast thou often spoken
to me, and in words that can never die ! Thou art
not dead — that were impossible : speak to me, then !
Tell me — for such as thou might break the seal of
the grave — what art thou? — where art thou? Whis
per in my ear the dread secret of the tomb ! Thou
art silent — even thou. How fearful, how terrible is
that spell which holds lips like thine — Childe Harold,
Manfred, Cain — in the bondage of perpetual stillness!
This, indeed, is death !

252

LETTER XLV.

fieturn to America — Removal to Boston — Literary position of Boston —
Prominent literary characters — The Press — The Pulpit — the Bar — New
York now the literary metropolis — My publication of various works —
The Legendary— N. P. Willis— The era of Annuals— The Token— The
artists engaged in it — The authors — Its termination.

MY DEAR 0******

Having made a hurried trip to Paris and back
to London, I departed for Liverpool, and thence em
barked for the United States, arriving there in Octo
ber, 1824. I remained at Hartford till October, 1826,
as already stated, and then removed to Boston, with
the intention of publishing original works, and at the
same time of trying my hand at authorship — the latter
part of my plan, however, known only to myself.

At that time, Boston was notoriously the literary
metropolis of the Union — the admitted Athens of
America. Edward Everett had established the North
American Keview,* and though he had now just left
the editorial chair, his spirit dwelt in it, and his fame
lingered around it. Kich'd H. Dana, Edw'd T. Chan-
ning, Jared Sparks, George Bancroft, and others, were
among the rising lights of the literary horizon. The

* The North American was founded in 1815, by William Tudor, who
had previously been one of the principal supporters of the Monthlj
Anthology. Mr. Everett, however, may be said to have given perma
nency to the publication by his masterly administration of the editorial
department

HISTORICAL, ANECDOT1CAL, ETO. 253

newspaper press presented the witty and caustic Gal
axy, edited by Buckingham ; the dignified and schol
arly Daily Advertiser, conducted by Nathan Hale ;*
and the frank, sensible, manly Centinel, under the ed
itorial patriarch — Benjamin Kussell. Channing was
in the pulpit and Webster at the forum. Society was
strongly impressed with literary tastes; genius was
respected and cherished : a man, in those days, who
had achieved a literary fame, was at least equal to a
president of a bank, or a treasurer of a manufactur
ing company. The pulpit shone bright and far, with
the light of scholarship radiated from the names of
Beecher, Greenwood, Pierpont, Lowell, Palfry,
Doane, Stone, Frothingham, Gannett: the bar also
reflected the glory of letters through H. G. Otis,
Charles Jackson, William Prescott, Benjamin Gor-
ham, Willard Philips, James T. Austin, among the
older members, and Charles G. Loring, Charles P.
Curtis, Richard Fletcher, Theophilus Parsons, Frank
lin Dexter, J. Quincy, jr., Edward G. Loring, Benj.
E. Curtis, among the younger. The day had not yet
come when it was glory enough for a college profes
sor to marry a hundred thousand dollars of stocks,
or when it was the chief end of a lawyer to become

* The Boston Daily Advertiser was founded in March, 1814, and Mr.
Hale began lii.s editorial career with it. It may be taken as the moclu
of the highest class of newspapers in the United States — able, calm, sin
cere, wise, and gentlemanly. It would be difficult to name a single jour
nal in any country which, in a union of these qualities, takes rank above
it. In the United States there are some which emulate it, but few, if
any, which surpass it.

254: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

the attorney of an insurance company, or a bank, or
a manufacturing corporation. Corporations, without
souls, had not yet become the masters and moulders of
the soul of society. Books with a Boston imprint had
a prestige equal to a certificate of good paper, good
print, good binding, and good matter. And while
such was the state of things at Boston, how was it at
New York? Why, all this time the Harpers, who
till recently had been mere printers in Dover-street,
had scarcely entered upon their career as publishers,*
and the Appletons,f Putnam, Derby, the Masons, and
other shining lights in the trade of New York at the
present time, were either unborn, or in the nursery,
or at school.

What a revolution do these simple items suggest —
wrought in the space of thirty years ! The scepter
has departed from Judah : New York is now the

* James Harper, the eldest of the four brothers now associated in the
concern, served his time as apprentice to the trade of printing to Abm.
Paul, of New York ; he and his brother John commenced as printers
in Dover-street, 1817 ; in 1818, having removed to Fulton-street, they
printed and published Locke's Essays, which was their first enterprise
as publishers. For a long time their publications were almost exclu
sively foreign books : at the present time, three-fourths are American
works. Their Magazine publishes about one hundred and seventy
thousand numbers a month, and surpasses any other publication of the
kind in its circulation. The publishing establishment of the Messrs.
Harper, the legitimate result of industry, discretion, energy, and prob
ity, is justly the pride of New York, and one of the reflected glories of
our literature, probably surpassing every other establishment of the
kind in the world in its extent and the perfectness of its organization.

t The present eminent publishing house of Appleton & Co., consisting
of Mr. W. Appleton and his four brothers, was founded by their father,
Daniel Appleton, who came from New England to New York about the
year 1826. He died in 1849, aged fifty-eight.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 255

acknowledged metropolis of American literature, as
weTTas of art and commerce. Nevertheless, if we
look at Boston literature -at the present time, as re
flected in the publishing lists of Messrs. Little, Brown
& Co., Ticknor & Fields, Philips, Sampson & Co.,
Crocker & Brewster, Gould & Lincoln, we shall see
that the light of other days has not degenerated.
Is it not augmented, indeed — for since the period I
speak of, Prescott, Longfellow, Hawthorne, Whipple,
Holmes, Lowell, Hillard, have joined the Boston con
stellation of letters ?

It can not be interesting to you to know in detail
my business operations in Boston at this period. It
will be sufficient to say, that among other works I
published an edition of the novels of Charles Brock-
den Brown, with a life of the author, furnished by
his widow, she having a share of the edition. I also
published an edition of Hannah More's works, and
also of Mrs. Opie's works — these being, I believe, the
first complete collections of the writings of these sev
eral authors. In 1827 I published Sketches by 1ST. P.
Willis, his first adventure in responsible authorship.
The next year I issued the Common-place Book of
Prose, the first work of the now celebrated Dr. Chee-
VQT. This was speedily followed by the Common-place
Book of Poetry and Studies in Poetry, by the same
author.*

* Among my lesser publications were Beauties of the Souvenirs, His-
x>ry of the Kings and Queens of France, Beauties of the Waverley Nov-

LETTEES BIOGKAPHICAL,

In 1828, 1 published a first, and soon after a second,
volume of the Legendary, designed as a periodical,
and to consist of original pieces in prose and verse,
principally illustrative of American history, scenery,
and manners.* This was edited by N. P. Willis, and
was, I believe, his first editorial engagement. Among

els, Blair's Outlines of Ancient History, Blair's Outlines of Chronology,
Blair's History of England, C. A. Goodrich's Outlines of Modern Geog
raphy, the American Journal of Education, issued monthly, Poems by
Mrs. Sigourney, Kecords of the Spanish Inquisition, translated from
the original documents by S. Kettell, Comstock's Mineralogy, Child's
Botany, Sad Tales and Glad Tales by G. Mellen, Mary's Journey, Memoirs
of a New England Village Choir, Specimens of American Poetry, 3 vols.,
edited by S. Kettell, Universal History, illustrated, copied, with addi
tions, from Straus, the Garland of Flora, Balbi's Geography, edited by
T. G. Bradford, Historical Cyclopaedia, edited by F. A. Durivage, and
doubtless some others, which I have forgotten. These were mostly
original works. After 1835, I ceased to be a publisher, except for my
own works ; since 1845, these have been entirely published by others.

* I give a few extracts from a criticism of this work upon its first ap
pearance: these will serve to show the estimate put upon some of the
productions of popular authors at that time, by a noted critic ; they will
also show a state of things strikingly in contrast with the habits of the
present day — for the reviewer found time and patience to notice, seria
tim, every article in the book, some thirty in number. This was the
day of great things in criticism, and small things in the production of
materials for criticism.

"KEVIEW.— THE LEGENDAKY.

"It would be a reproach to our country, if the proprietor of a work of
this nature, got up under circumstances so favorable to the growth of
our native literature — even if the Legendary were no better than the
mob of books that one may see every day of the year pouring forth out
of the shops of people who pay more for puffs than for copyrights — a
reproach to our country, I vow, if he were to suffer by the enterprise.
If'we are to have a literature of our own, we must pay for it; and they
who are the first to pay for it, deserve to be the first to be repaid for it
• — with usury. * * *

" The first of the tales, by the author of ' Hobomok,' is called the
' Church of the Wilderness.' Here we have the serene, bold, and beau
tiful style of writing which had to be found fault with in the review of

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 257

the contributors I find the names of Halleck, Crosby,
Lunt, W. G. Clark, H. Pickering, J. 0. Rockwell,
Miss Sedge wick, Miss Francis, Mrs. Sigourney, Wil
lis, Pierpont, Cutter, I. M'Lellan, Jr., J. W. Miller,
and other popular writers of that day. It was kind
ly treated by the press, which generously published

' Hoboinok' — no, not of ' Hobomok,' of some other story by the same
author, the title of which I forget. What I said then, I say now.

" The second affair is a piece by a young man of this town — Wm.
Cutter — whom I never suspected before of poetry. It is called the
Valley of Silence,' and of a truth will bear to be treated as poetry. *
* * But I do not believe that in a poem of forty lines, it would be fair
piny for any author to repeat the same idea more than eighty times, or
that HUSHING and RUSHING are altogether where they should be in the
forty lines now before me. For example, we have a bird that ' hushed
his breath,' and we have the hush of the slumbering air, and we have
echoes 'hushed in their caves,' and a ' hush that is grand, not awful,'
and a ' hushed worship,' and 'hushed voices,' and all those by- baby-
bunting epithets in one single poem ! * * *

" ' Unwritten Poetry,' by N. P. W., the editor of the Legendary.
There are touches of exquisite beauty in this paper, and not a little of
what, to speak reverently of a brother poet, I should cull heavenly non-

"'Descriptive Sonnets,' by Mr. H. Pickering. I hate sonnets; I
never saw a good one, and never shall.

"'The Clouds:' Grenville Mellen. Would this were better— would
it were worthier of my young friend. Some of the ideas are beautiful,
and some powerful ; but the abrupt termination of almost every stanza,
the truncated air of the finest passages— a line being a period by itself
— who that knows poetry, or knows what poetry should be, oan forgive, ?

" ' The Pampas of Buenos Ayres,' by I. M'Lellan, jr. Here we have a
poet ; I do not mean to say that here we have poetry, or, properly speak
ing, much poetry — for some there certainly is in every paragraph ; but
simply that the author has within him a sure, and I believe a deep well
of poetry. If he has, however, he will never know its depth, nor
what riches may lie there, till the waters have been troubled — by an
angel— if you like, for angels are mighty troublesome now, as well as of
yore, to the fountains of life and health.

" 'The Haunted Grave:' E. P. Blount. Never heard of this writer
before. Who is he? He shows talent — strong, decided, peculiar talent.

" ' Extract from a Journal,' &c. Mellenr-hey ? A mere scratch or

258 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

without charge, the best pieces in full, saving the
reading million the trouble of buying the book and
paying for the chaff, which was naturally found with
the wheat. Despite this courtesy, the work proved
a miserable failure. The time had not come for such
a publication : at the present day, with the present

two of a free pen. The author, if it is he, will make a better figure in
prose yet than he ever made in poetry. I do not speak of this paper,
but of others that I know to be his.

" ' Grave of an Unknown Genius :" Joseph H. Nichols. Good poetry
here, though not much. The best is —

' And worthy of their harps was he,

Worthy to wake with them, the grand
War-anthem, or the music free
Of love, with burning Up and hand?

"'Mere Accident:' N. P. Willis. Bather too Tom Moorish. How
ever, let that pass. For, do ye know, ye blue-eyed, fair-haired girls,
and ye of the dark, lamping eyes and a shadowy crown — do ye not
know that the old proverb about kissing and telling is not worth a fig ?
I'll give you a better one : ' They that kiss never tell — and they that tell
never kiss.'

" ' The Nun,' by Emma C. Manly. High and pure and sensible
poetry. But who is Emma C. Manly? Is it not another name fo.
N. P. W. ?

"'Romance in Eeal Life:' author of Redwood. This very sensible
and happy writer, if she had more courage, and were willing to tell the
very truth and nothing but the truth of our country manners, would be
more thought of a hundred years hence than she is now.

" ' Ascutney :' Mrs. A. M. Wells. Upon my word, it is very encour
aging to see what a few of our Yankee women are about in the world of
literature. They only want fair play to shoot ahead of their teachers,
the hatted ones of our earth.

" 'Telling the Dream:' Willis. Heigho ! " Do dreams always prove
true, lunthe ?" I say, brother Willis, you deserve to be whipped back
ward through your alphabet for the false quantity in that last line — the
very pith and marrow of the whole poem. Up with your fingers, and
count them ; out with your hand for the ferule, or shut your eyes and
open your mouth, like a good boy, and see what the ladies will send
you. And then — 'Do dreams always prove true, lanthe?' * * *

" ' The Bruce's Heart,' by the author of ' Moral Pieces.' Very good
poetry, and very like what a ballad of our time should be— a ballad of

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 259

accessories, and the present public spirit, I doubt not
that such an enterprise would be eminently successful.
I believe I have already -alluded to the Age of An
nuals'* — the first work of the kind, entitled the For
get-me-not, having been issued by the Ackermans of
London, in the winter of 1823, while I was in that city.
It was successfully imitated by Carey & Lea, at Phil
adelphia, in a work entitled the Atlantic Souvenir,
and which was sustained with great spirit for several
years. In 1828 I commenced and published the first
volume of the Token, and which I continued for fif
teen years, editing it myself, with the exception of
the volume for 1829, which came out under the aus
pices of Mr. Willis. In 1836 the Atlantic Souvenir
ceased, and after that time, by arrangement with the
publishers, its title was added to that of the Token.

the war, I mean. But — I liave always a but in reserve, you know — why
deal so with the Moors ? * * *

" ' Columbus,' by J. W. Miller. This man must be capable of writing
magnificent poetry. The proof:

Stands he upon the narrow deck

Of yon lone caravel,
Whose tall shape as with princely beck

Bound to the heaving swell ;
And when the conqueror o'er her side
Crossed meekly, rose with living pride"

From the Yankee, June 28, 1828.

* We are doubtless indebted to the Germans for originating the race
of Animals, but Ackerman's Forget-me-not was the first attempt at pro
ducing them with all the luxurious embellishments of art, and which
became, in fact, their distinctive characteristic. At first the literary de
partment was held inferior to the mechanical, but at last, Scott, Rogers,
Campbell, Mr.s. llemans, Moore, &c., in England, and Bryant, Irving,
Ilalleck, in America, became contributors to these works ; nay, Bryant,
Sands, and Verplanck produced in New York an annual entitled the
Talisman, and which was continued for three years

260 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

The success of this species of publication, stimula
ted new enterprises of the kind, and a rage for them
spread over Europe and America. The efforts of the
first artists and the first writers were at length drawn
into them, and for nearly twenty years every autumn
produced an abundant harvest of Diadems, Bijous,
/Pearls, Gems, Amethysts, Opals, Amaranths, Bou
quets, Hyacinths, Amulets, Talismans, Forget-me-
uots, Kemember-me's, &c.* Under these seductive
titles, they became messengers of love, tokens of
i'riendship, signs and symbols of affection, and lux
ury and refinement ; and thus they stole alike into the
palace and the cottage, the library, the parlor, and the
boudoir. The public taste grew by feeding on these

* Besides these Annuals, there were, in England and the United
States, the following :

Gift, Keepsake, Souvenir, Literary Souvenir, Boudoir, Floral Offering,
Friendship's Offering, Iris, Laurel, Wreath, Jewel, Cabinet, Drawing-
room Annual, Pictorial Annual, Continental Annual, Picturesque An
nual, Fancy Annual, Court Album, Anniversary, Pearls of the East,
Pearls of the West, The Favorite, The Rhododendron, The Waif, The
Gleaner, The Rose, and many others. Among the works which may be
considered as successors of the Annuals, being all splendidly illustra
ted, there were Tableaux of Prose and Poetry, Baronial Halls of Eng
land, Authors of England, Artist's Sketch Book, Book of Art, Book
of the Passions, Calendar of Nature, Continental Sketches, Etched
Thoughts, Finden's Tableaux, Wanderings of Pen and Pencil, Tales of
the Brave and the Fair, Poetry of the Year, British Ballads, Book of
Art, Book of the Passions, Gems of British Poetry, Lays of Ancient
Rome, and a multitude of others.

The eifect of the circulation of such works as these, in creating and
extending a taste for the arts, and in their most exquisite forms, can only
be appreciated by those who have examined and reflected upon the sub
ject. Even in the United States alone, four thousand volumes of one
of these works, at the price of twelve dollars each, have been sold in a
single season ! Not five hundred would have been sold in the same
space of time, twenty years ago.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 261

luscious gifts, and soon craved even more gorgeous
works of the kind, whence came Heath's Book of
Beauty, Lady Blessington.'s Flowers of Loveliness,
Bulwer's Pilgrims of the Rhine, Butler's Leaflets of
Memory, Christmas among the Poets, and many
others of similar design and execution. Many of
the engravings of these works cost five hundred
dollars each, and many a piece of poetry, fifty dollars
a page. In several of these works the generous pub
lic spent fifty thousand dollars a year !

At last the race of Annuals drew near the end of
its career, yet not without having produced a certain
revolution in the public taste. Their existence had
sprung, at least in part, from steel-engraving, which
had been discovered and introduced by our country
man, Jacob Perkins. This enabled the artist to pro
duce works of more exquisite delicacy than had ever
before been achieved ; steel also gave the large num
ber of impressions which the extensive sales of the
Annuals demanded, and which could not have been
obtained from copper. These charming works scat
tered the very gems of art far and wide, making
the reading mass familiar with the finest specimens
of engraving, and not only cultivating an appetite
for this species of luxury, but in fact exalting the
general standard of taste all over the civilized world.

And thus, though the Annuals, by name, have per
ished, they left a strong necessity in the public mind
for books enriched by all the embellishments of art.

LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Hence we have such works as the Women of the
Bible, Women of the New Testament, the Republican
Court, by Dr. Griswold, together with rich illustrated
editions of Byron, Rogers, Thomson, Cowper, Camp
bell, and others, including our own poets — Bryant,
Halleck, Sigourney, Longfellow, Reed, &c. Wood-
/engraving has, meanwhile, risen into a fine art, and
lent its potent aid in making books one of the chief
luxuries of society, from the nursery to the parlor.

In comparison with these splendid works, the To
ken was a very modest affair. The first year I offered
prizes for the best pieces in prose and poetry. The
highest for prose was awarded to the author of
" Some Passages in the Life of an Old Maid." A
mysterious man, in a mysterious way, presented him
self for the money, and, giving due evidence of his
authority to receive it, it was paid to him, but who
the author really was, never transpired, though I had,
and still have, my confident guess upon the sub
ject* Even the subsequent volumes, though they
obtained favor in their day, did not approach the splen
dor of the modern works of a similar kind. Never
theless, some of the embellishments, by John Cheney, j

* The prizes were one hundred dollars for the best piece in prose, and
the same for the best in verse. The judges — Charles Sprague, F. W.
P. Greenwood, and J. Pierpont — hesitated between two pieces for the
latter : The Soldier's Widow, by Willis, and Connecticut River, by Mrs.
Sigourney. They finally recommended that the prize be divided be
tween them, which was accepted by the authors.

t John Cheney, who may be regarded as the first of American engra
vers in sweetness of expression and delicacy of execution, was a native oi

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 263

Ellis, Smilie, Andrews, Hatch, Kelly, Danforth, Du-
rand, and Jewett, engraved from the designs of Alls-
ton, Leslie, Newton, Cole, Jnman, Fisher, Doughty,
Chapman, Weir, Brown, Alexander, and Healey,
were very clever, even compared with the finest
works of art at the present day.

The literary contributions were, I believe, equal,
on the whole, to any of the Annuals, American or
European. Here were inserted some of the earliest

\

productions of Willis, Hawthorne, Miss Francis, now
Mrs. Child, Miss Sedgewick, Mrs. Hale, Pierpont,
Greenwood, and Longfellow. Several of these first
made acquaintance with the public through the pages
of this work. It is a curious fact that the latter,
Longfellow, wrote prose, and at that period had
shown neither a strong bias nor a particular talent
for poetry.

The Token was continued annually till 1842,
when it finally ceased. The day of Annuals had, in
deed, passed before this was given up, and the last

Manchester, eight miles east of Hartford, Conn. When I first met him,
he was working at Hartford with Mr. Willard, a map engraver. I en
couraged him to come to Boston, and for several years, during which
time he visited London and Paris, he was wholly employed for the To
ken. His brother Seth, not less celebrated for his admirable portraits
in crayon, was also induced to come to Boston by me, making my house
at Jamaica Plain, his stopping place at the beginning. Both these ad
mirable artists are wholly self-taught. They have six brothers, the
youngest of whom made some valuable improvement in machinery
which led to the establishment of a silk manufactory at their native
place, which some of the rest have joined, and it has uiude all rich who
are concerned in it.

LETTEES - BIOGRAPHICAL

two or three years, it had only lingered out a poor
and fading existence. As a matter of business, it
scarcely paid its expenses, and was a serious draw
back upon my time and resources for fifteen years —
a punishment no doubt fairly due to an obstinate
pride which made me reluctant to allow a work to
die in my hands, with which my name and feelings
had become somewhat identified.

LETTER XLVI.

The Contributors to the Toker^-N. P. Willis— N. Hawthorne— Miss Francis
— Mr. Greenwood — Mr. Pierpont — Charles Sprague — Mrs. Sigourney —
Miss Sedgwick — Mrs. Osgood, and others — • Quarrels between Autftors and
Publishers — Anecdotes — The Publisliers1 Festival.

Mr DEAR 0******

As to the contributors for the Token, you may
expect me to say a few words more. The most prom
inent writer for it was 1ST. P. Willis ; his articles were
the most read, the most admired, the most abused,
and the most advantageous to the work. I published
his first book, and his two first editorial engagements
were with me ; hence the early portion of his literary
career fell under my special notice.

He had begun to write verses very early, and while
in college, before he was eighteen, he had acquired an
extended reputation, under the signature of Koy. In

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 265

1827, when he was just twenty years old, I published
his volume entitled u Sketches." It brought out quite
a shower of criticism, in which praise and blame were
about equally dispensed : at the same time the work
sold with a readiness quite unusual for a book of
poetry at that period. It is not calculated to estab
lish the infallibility of critics, to look over these no
tices at the present day : many of the pieces which
were doubly damned have now taken their place
among the acknowledged gems of our literature, and
others, which excited praise at the time, have faded
from the public remembrance.

One thing is certain — everybody thought Willis
worth criticising.* He has been, I suspect, more writ-

* In 1831, there appeared in Boston a little book, of some fifty or sixty
pages, entitled, " Truth : A New Year's Gift for Scribblers." It was writ
ten by Joseph Snelling, who had been, I believe, an under officer in the
United States army, and stationed in the Northwest, perhaps at Prairie
du Chien. He came to Boston, and acquired some notoriety as a ner
vous and daring writer — his chief desire seeming to be, notoriety. The
work was little more than a string of abuse, without regard to justice ;
yet it was executed with point and vigor, and as it attacked everybody
who had written verses, it caused a good deal of wincing. The follow
ing is the exordium :

"Moths, millers, gnats, and butterflies, I sing;

Far-darting Phoebus, lend my strain a sting;

Much-courted virgins, long-enduring Nine,

Screw tight the catgut of tliis lyre of mine:

If D-na, D-\ves, and P-rp-nt ask your aid,

If "W-ll-s takes to rhyming as a trade,

If L-nt and F-nn to Piiidus' top aspire,

I too may blameless beg one spark of fire;

Not such as warmed the brains of Pope and Swift —

With loss assistance I can make a shift:

To Gilford's bow and shafts I lay no claim —

lit- shot, at hawks, but I at insects aim :

Yet grant, since I must war on little thlngi,

Just flame enough to singe their puny wings;

VOL. IL— 12

266 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

ten about than any other literary man in our history.
Some of the attacks upon him proceeded, no doubt,
from a conviction that he was a man of extraordi
nary gifts, and yet of extraordinary affectations, and
the lash was applied in kindness, as that of a school
master to a loved pupil's back ; some of them were
dictated by envy, for we have had no other example
of literary success so early, so general, and so natter
ing. That Mr. Willis made mistakes in literature
and life — at the outset — may be admitted by his best

A feather besom, too, to bring them down,
And pins to stick them in my beaver's crown."
*****

Here are specimens from the body of the work:

"The wax still sticking to his fingers' ends,
The upstart Wh-tt-r, for example, lends
The world important aid to understand
What's said, and sung, and printed in the land."

*****
" 'Tis plain the county Cumberland, in Maine,
Contains no hospital for folks insane :
Though never there, the fact I notidng doubt,
Since N-al and M-ll-n run at large about.
When the moon waxes, plaintive M-ll-n howls;
But Johnny, like a bull-dog, snaps and growls;
Or strikes his brother poetasters mute
With harsh vibrations on his three-stringed lute."

*****
"Dear Halleck, Nature's favorite and mine,
Curst be the hand that plucks a hair of thine:
Accept the tribute of a muse inclined
To bow to nothing, save the power of mind.
Bard of Bozzaris, shall thy native shore
List to thy harp and mellow voice no more ?
Shall we, with skill like thine so nigh at hand,
Import our music from a foreign land ?
While Mirror M-rr-s chants in whimpering note,
And croaking D-na strains his screech-owl throat;
While crazy N-al to meter shakes his chains,
And fools are found to listen to his strains;
While childish Natty P. the public diddles,
And L-ut and K-ckw-11 scrape his second fiddles;

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 267

friends; for it must be remembered that before lie
was five-arid-twenty, he was more read than any
other American poet of his time; and besides, being
possessed of an easy and captivating address, he be
came the pet of society, and especially of the fairei
portion of it. Since that period, his life, on the
whole, has been one of serious, useful, and successful
labor. His reputation as a poet has hardly advanced,
and probably the public generally regard some of his
early verses as his best. As an essayist, however, he

While Brooks, and Sands, and Smith, and either Clark,
In chase of Phoebus, howl, and yelp, and bark —
Wilt thou be silent? Wake, O Halleck, wake!
Thine and thy country's honor are at stake!
Wake, and redeem the pledge — thy vantage keep;
'Tis pity, one like thee so long should sleep!"
*****
" One bard there is I almost fear to name,
Much doubting whether to applaud or blame.
In P-rc-v-1's productions, wheat and chaff
Are mixed, like sailor's tipple, half ;;nd half;
But, duly bolted through the critic's mill,
I find the better part is wholesome still"

The following is a part of the amiable notice bestowed upon Willis :

"Muse, shall we not a few brief lines afford

To give poor Natty P. his meet reward?

What has he done to be despised by all

Within whose hands his harmless scribblings fall?

Wtiy, as in band box-trim he walks the streets,

Turns up the nose of every man he meets,

As if it scented carrion ? Why, of late,

Do all the critics claw his shallow pate?

True, he's a fool; — if that's a hanging thing,

Let Pr-nt-ce, Wh-tt-r, M-ll-n also swing."

Willis replied contemptuously, but effectively, in some half-dozen
verses inserted in the Statesman, and addressed to Smelling Joseph.
The lines stuck to poor Snelling for the remainder of his life, and I
suspect, in fact, contributed to his downfall. As he had attacked
everybody, everybody joined in the chuckle. He soon fell into habits
of dissipation, which led from one degradation to another, till b> «nis-
erable career was ended.

268 LETTERS BIOGEAPHICAL,

stands in the first rank, distinguished for a keen sa
gacity in analyzing societ}7, a fine perception of the
beauties of nature, an extraordinary talent for en
dowing trifles with interest and meaning. As a trav
eler, he is among the most entertaining, sagacious,
and instructive. It is within my knowledge, that
Mr. Webster was an admiring reader of his itinerary
sketches.

, His style is certainly peculiar — and is deemed af
fected, tending to an excess of refinement, and dis
playing an undue hankering for grace and melody —
sometimes sacrificing sense to sound. This might
once have been a just criticism, but the candid reader
of his works now before the public, will deem it hy
percritical. His style is suited to his thought ; it is
flexible, graceful, musical, and is adapted to the play
ful wit, the spicy sentiment, the dramatic tableaux,
the artistic paintings of sea, earth, and sky, of which
they are the vehicle. In the seeming exhaustlessness
of his resources, in his prolonged freshness, in his
constantly increasing strength, Mr. Willis has refuted
all the early prophets who regarded him only as a
precocity, destined to shine a few brief years, and
fade away.

As to his personal character, I need only say that
from the beginning, he has had a larger circle of
steadfast friends than almost any man within my
knowledge. There has been something in his works
which has made the fair sex, generally, alike his lite-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 269

rary and personal admirers. For so many favors, he
has given the world an ample return ; for, with all
his imputed literary faults^— some real and some im-
aginaiy — I regard him as having contributed more
to the amusement of society than almost any other
of our living authors.*

It is not easy to conceive of a stronger contrast
than is presented by comparing Nathaniel Hawthorne
with N. P. Willis. The former was for a time one
of the principal writers for the Token, and his admi
rable sketches were published side by side with those
of the latter. Yet it is curious to remark that every
thing Willis wrote attracted immediate attention, and
excited ready praise, while the productions of Haw
thorne were almost entirely unnoticed.

The personal appearance and demeanor of these
two gifted young men, at the early period of which I
speak, was also in striking contrast. Willis was
slender, his hair sunny and silken, his cheek ruddy,
his aspect cheerful and confident. He met society
with a ready and welcome hand, and was received
readily and with welcome. Hawthorne, on the con
trary, was of a rather sturdy form, his hair dark and

* Mr. N. P. Willis was the son of Nathaniel Willis, of Boston, origi
nally u printer, but for a long time an editor, and much respected ibr
his indu>try, his good sense, his devotion to whatever he deemed his
duty, and his useful services rendered to morals, religion, Christianity,
and philanthropy. His wife was a woman of uncommon mental endow
ments; her conversation was elegant, full of taste, reading, and refine
ment. The beautiful tributes which N. P. Willis has rendered to her
memory, are no more than was due from a gifted son to a gifted mother.

270 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

bushy, his eye steel-gray, his brow thick, his mouth
sarcastic, his complexion stony, his whole aspect
cold, moody, distrustful. He stood aloof, and sur
veyed the world from shy and sheltered positions.

There was a corresponding difference in the wri
tings of these two persons. Willis was all sunshine
and summer, the other chill, dark, and wintry ; the
one was full of love and hope, the other of doubt
and distrust ; the one sought the open daylight — sun
shine, flowers, music, and found them everywhere —
the other plunged into the dim caverns of the mind,
and studied the grisly specters of jealousy, remorse,
despair. It is, perhaps, neither a subject of surprise
nor regret, that the larger portion of the world is so
happily constituted as to have been more ready to
flirt with the gay muse of the one, than to descend
into the spiritual charnel-house, and assist at the psy
chological dissections of the other.

I had seen some anonymous publication which
seemed to me to indicate extraordinary powers. I
inquired of the publishers as to the writer, and
through them a correspondence ensued between me
and "1ST. Hawthorne." This name I considered a dis
guise, and it was not till after many letters had pass
ed, that I met the author, and found it to be a true
title, representing a very substantial personage. At
this period he was unsettled as to his views; he
had tried his hand in literature, and considered him
self to have met with a fatal rebuff from the reading

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 271

world. His mind vacillated between various pro
jects, verging, I think, toward a mercantile profession.
I combated his despondence, and assured him of tri
umph, if he would persevere in a literary career.

He wrote numerous articles, which appeared in
the Token ; occasionally an astute critic seemed to
see through them, and to discover the soul that was
in them ; but in general they passed without notice.
Such articles as Sights from a Steeple, Sketches be
neath an Umbrella, the Wives of the Dead, the Pro
phetic Pictures, now universally acknowledged to be
productions of extraordinary depth, meaning, and
power, extorted hardly a word of either praise or
blame, while columns were given to pieces since to
tally forgotten. I felt annoyed, almost angry indeed,
at this. I wrote.several articles in the papers, direct
ing attention to these productions, and finding no
echo of my views, I recollect to have asked John
Pickering* to read some of them, and give me his
opinion of them. He did as I requested ; his an
swer was that they displayed a wonderful beauty of
style, with a kind of double vision, a sort of second
sight, which revealed, beyond the outward forms of
life and being, a sort of spirit world, somewhat as a

* John Pickering, son of Timothy Pickering, Washington's Secre
tary of State, was a distinguished jurist and philologist, und u refined
and amiable gentleman. A good notice of him is given in Messrs
Duyckinck's excellent Cyclopedia of American Literature, vol. i. page
625. To this, by the way, I have often been indebted for assistance in
the preparation of this work.

272 LETTERS— BIOGRAPHICAL,

lake reflects the earth around it and the sky above
it : yet he deemed them too mystical to be popular.
He was right, no doubt, at that period, but, ere long,
a portion of mankind, a large portion of the read
ing world, obtained a new sense — how or where or
whence, is not easily determined — which led them
to study the mystical, to dive beneath and beyond
the senses, and to discern, gather, and cherish gems
and pearls of price in the hidden depths of the soul.
Hawthorne was, in fact, a kind of Wordsworth in
prose— less kindly, less genial toward mankind, but
deeper and more philosophical. His fate was simi
lar : at first he was neglected, at last he had wor
shipers.

In 1837, I recommended Mr. Hawthorne to pub
lish a volume, comprising his various pieces, which
had appeared in the Token and elsewhere. He con
sented, but as I had ceased to be a publisher, it was
difficult to find any one who would undertake to
bring out the work. I applied to the agent of the
Stationers' Company,* but he refused, until at last I

* The Stationers' Company, organized in the autumn of 1836, was a
joint-stock company, in which some of the leading lawyers and literary
men of Boston engaged, with a view of publishing original American
works of a high character, and in such a way as to render due compen
sation and encouragement to authors. One of the works which then
sought a publisher, without success, was Prescott's Ferdinand and Isa
bella — it being at that day supposed to be absurd for Americans to pre
sume to write general histories. This was in fact one of the first works
issued by this concern. In 1838 the country was suffering under a state
of general commercial panic and paralysis, and this company was pre
cipitated into the gulf of bankruptcy, with thousands of others. Though

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 273

relinquished my copyrights on such of the tales as I
had published, to Mr. Hawthorne, and joined a friend
of his in a bond to indemnify them against loss ; and
thus the work was published by the Stationers' Com
pany, under the title of Twice Told Tales, and for
the author's benefit. It was deemed a failure for
more than a year, when a breeze seemed to rise and
fill its sails, and with it the author was carried on to
fame and fortune.

Among the most successful of the writers for the
Token was Miss Francis, now Mrs. Child. I have not
seen her for many years, but I have many pleasant
remembrances of her lively conversation, her saucy
wit, her strong good sense, and her most agreeable
person and presence. To Eev. F. "W. P. Greenwood
— the author of "Niagara" and the "Sea" — -articles
which are still admired by all tasteful readers — I was
indebted not only for some of the best contributions,
but for excellent counsel and advice in my literary
affairs. He was a man of fine genius, gentle manners,
and apostolic dignity of life and character.

To Mr. Pierpont, I was indebted for encouragement
and sympathy in my whole career, and for some of
the best poems which appeared in the work I am no
ticing. 1 remember once to have met him, and to have

I was u hesitating and reluctant subscriber to the stock, and in factwaa
the lust to join the association, I still shared largely — I may say fatally
- in its misfortunes. It entailed upon me the loss of the little property
1 had accumulated, and embarrassments which have haunted me to the
present day.

12"

274: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

asked him to give me a contribution for the Token.
He stopped and said, reflectirigly, " I had a dream not
long ago, which I have thought to put into verse. I
will try, and if I am successful you shall have it." A
few days after he gave me the lines, now in all the
gem books, beginning —

" Was it the chime of a tiny bell,

That came so sweet to my dreaming ear —
Like the silvery tones of a fairy's shell,

That he winds on the beach so mellow and clear,
When the winds and the waves lie together asleep,
And the moon and the fairy are watching the deep — >
She dispensing her silvery light,
And he his notes, as silvery quite,
While the boatman listens and ships his oar,
To catch the music that comes from the shore ?
Hark ! the notes on my ear that play,
Are set to words ; as they float, they say,
' Passing away, passing away !' "

Charles Sprague wrote for me but little, yet that
was of diamond worth. Next to Willis, Mrs. Sigour-
ncy was my most successful and liberal contributor ;
to her I am indebted for a large part of the success
of my editorial labors in the matter now referred to.
To Miss Scdgwick, also, the Token owes a large
share of its credit with the public, % Grenville Mellen
— a true poet, and a most kind, gentle spirit, doomed
early to " pass away" — was a favorite in my pages,
and to me a devoted friend. To B. B. Thacher — also
among the good and the departed ; to Mrs. Osgood,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 275

gifted and gone ; to John Neale, A. H. Everett, Bish
op Doane, Mr. Longfellow, Caleb Gushing; to the
two Sargents- — Epes and John, though masked as
Charles Sherry or the modest letter E. ; to Miss
Gould, Miss Leslie, H. T. Tuckerman, O. W. Holmes,
Orville Dewey, J. T. Fields, T. S. Fay, G. C. Yer
planck — to all these and to many others, I owe the
kind remembrance which belongs to good deeds,
kindly and graciously bestowed.

It is not to be supposed that in a long career, both
as bookseller and editor, I should have escaped alto
gether the annoyances and vexations which naturally
attach to these vocations. The relation of author and
publisher is generally regarded as that of the cat and
the dog, both greedy of the bone, and inherently jeal
ous of each other. The authors have hitherto written
the accounts of the wrangles between these two par
ties, and the publishers have been traditionally gib-
eted as a set of mean, mercenary wretches, coining
the heart's blood of genius for their own selfish prof
its. Great minds, even in modern times, have not
been above this historical prejudice. The poet Camp
bell is said to have been an admirer of Napoleon be
cause he shot a bookseller.

Nevertheless, speaking from my own experience,
I suspect, if the truth were told, that, even in cases
whore the world has been taught to bestow all its
sympathy in behalf of the author, it would appear
that while there were claws on one side there were

270 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

teeth on the other. My belief is, that where there
have been quarrels, there have generally been mutual
provocations. I know of nothing more vexatious,
more wearisome, more calculated to beget impa
tience, than the egotisms, the exactions, the unrea
sonablenesses of authors, in cases I have witnessed.*

* I could give some curious instances of this. A schoolmaster came
to me once with a marvelously clever grammar : it was sure to overturn
all others. He had figured out his views in a neat hand, like copper
plate. He estimated that there were always a million of children at
school who would need his grammar ; providing for books worn out,
and a supply for new-comers, half a million would be wanted every
year. At one cent a copy for the author — which he insisted was ex
ceedingly moderate — this would produce to him five thousand dollars a
year, but if I would piiblish the work he would condescend to take half
that sum annually, during the extent of the copyright — twenty-eight
years ! I declined, and he seriously believed me a heartless block
head. He obtained a publisher at last, but the work never reached a
second edition. Every publisher is laden with similar experiences.

I once employed a young man to block out some little books to be
published under the nominal authorship of Solomon Bell ; these I remod
eled, and one or two volumes were issued. Some over-astute critic an
nounced them as veritable Peter Parleys, and they had a sudden sale.
The young man who had assisted me, and who was under the most sol
emn obligations to keep the matter secret, thought lie had an opportu
nity to make his fortune ; so he publicly claimed the authorship, and
accused me of duplicity ! The result was, that the books fell dead from
that hour ; the series was stopped, and his unprinted manuscripts, for
which I had paid him, became utterly worthless. A portion I burnt,
and a portion still remain amidst the rubbish of other days.

In other instances, I was attacked in the papers, editorially and per
sonally, by individuals who were living upon the employment I gave
them. I was in daily intercourse with persons of this character,
who, while flattering me to my face, I knew to be hawking at me in
print. These I regarded and treated as trifles at the time ; they are less
than trifles now. One thing may be remarked, that, in general, such
difficulties come from poor and unsuccessful writers. They have been
taught that publishers and booksellers are vampires, and naturally feed
upon the vitals of genius ; assuming— honestly, no doubt — that they are
of this latter class, they feel no great scruple in taking vengeance upon
those whom they regard as their natural enemies.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 277

That there may be examples of meanness, stupidity,
and selfishness, in publishers, is indisputable. But
in general, I am satisfied that an author who will do
justice to a publisher, will have justice in return.

In judging of publishers, one thing should be con
sidered, and that is, that two-thirds of the original
works issued by them, are unprofitable. An eminent
London publisher once told me that he calculated that
out of ten publications, four involved a positive, and
often a heavy, loss ; three barely paid the cost of pa
per, print, and advertising ; and three paid a profit.
Nothing is more common than for a publisher to pay
money to an author, every farthing of which is lost.
Self-preservation, therefore, compels the publisher to
look carefully to his operations. One thing is cer
tain — he is generally the very best judge as to the
value of a book, in a marketable point of view : if he
rejects it, it is solely because he thinks it will not
pay, not because he despises genius.

Happily, at the present day, the relations between
these two parties — authors and publishers — are on a
better footing than in former times : the late Festival*

My editorial experience also furnished me with some amusing anec
dotes. An editor of a periodical once sent me an article for the Token,
entitled La Longue-vue ; the pith of the story consisted in a romantic
youth1 s falling in love with a young lady, two miles off, through a, tele
scope ! I ventured to reject it, and the Token for that year was duly
damned in the columns of the offended author.

And yet, while noticing these trifles, I am bound to say distinctly,
that, on the whole, I have had generous and encouraging treatment
from the press, and most kindly intercourse with authors.

* The Complimentary Fruit Festival of the New York Book Publish-

278 LETTEKS BIOGRAPHICAL,

in New York, given by the publishers to the authors,
was a happy testimonial to the prevailing feeling that
both are partners in the fellowship of literature, and
that mutual good offices will best contribute to mutual
prosperity. Indeed, a great change has taken place
in the relative positions of the two classes. Nothing
is now more marketable than good writing — at least
in this country — whatever may be its form — poetry
or prose, fact or fiction, reason or romance. Star
ving, neglected, abused genius, is a myth of bygone
times. If an author is poorly paid, it is because he
writes poorly. I do not think, indeed, that authors
are adequately paid, for authorship does not stand
on a level with other professions as to pecuniary
recompense, but it is certain that a clever, industri
ous, and judicious writer may make his talent the
means of living.*

ers' Association to Authors and Booksellers, took place at the Crystal
Palace, September 27, 1855, and was one of the most gratifying and
suggestive occasions I ever witnessed. The opening address of the
president, Mr. W. Appleton, the introductory statistical sketch, by Mr.
G. P. Putnam, the genial toasts, the excellent letters of Charles Sumner,
Edward Everett, and E. C. Winthrop ; the admirable speech of W. C.
Bryant, the eloquent addresses of Messrs. Milburn, Allen, Chapin, Os-
good, Beecher, together with the witty and instructive poem by J. T.
Fields— all together marked it as an era of prodigious interest in our
literary annals.

* I am here speaking particularly of the state of things in America
at the present day. No man has more cause to know and feel the dis
appointments, the wear and tear of health, the headaches, the heart
aches, which attend authorship as a profession and a means of support,
Ihan myself. No one has more cause to feel and remember the illusiveness
of literary ambition, perhaps I may say of even humble literary success.
In most cases, these are only obtained at the expense of shattered nerves
and broken constitutions, leaving small means of enjoying what has

HISTORIC AL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 279

LETTER XLVII.

The First of tfte Parley Books — Its Reception — Various Publications —
Threatening Attack of Illness — Voyage to Europe — Consultation of Phy
sicians at Paris — Sir Benj. Brodie, of London — Alercrombie, of Edin
burgh — Return to America — Residence in the Country — Prosecution of
my Literary Labors — Footing up the Account — Annoyances of Author-
ship— Letter to the New York Daily Times.

MY DEAR C******

Though I was busily engaged in publishing va
rious works, I found time to make my long meditated
experiment in the writing of books for children. The
first attempt was made in 1827, and bore the title of
the Tales of Peter Parley about America. No per
sons but my wife and one of my sisters were admit
ted to the secret — for in the first place, I hesitated
to believe that I was qualified to appear before the
public as an author, and in the next place, nursery
literature had not then acquired the respect in the
eyes of the world it now enjoys. It is since that pe
riod, that persons of acknowledged genius — Scott,

been thus dearly won. Still it is quite true that if a man has talent, and
is wise and moderate, and if he feels and practises Agur's prayer, he
may live by authorship ; if he aspires to easy independence, let him
rather drudge in almost any other employment. As an amusement to
a man of fortune, who is also a man of genius, authorship is a glorious
pastime ; to men of other and more active and profitable professions, it
is often an inspiring episode; but to one who has no resources but his
brains, it is too often the coining of his heart's blood to feed his family.
One thing should never be forgotten by those who are tempted to follow
a literary career, that not one author in a hundred attains success in
life by this profession alone.

280 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Dickens, Lamartine, Mary Howitt, in Europe, and
Abbott, Todd, Gallaudet, Miss Sedgwick, Mrs. Child,
and others, in America, thave stooped to the composi
tion of books for children and youth.

I published my little book, and let it make its way.
It came before the world untrumpeted, and for some
months seemed not to attract the slightest attention.
Suddenly I began to see notices of it in the papers,
all over the country, and in a year from the date of
its publication, it had become a favorite. In 1828, I
published the Tales of Peter Parley about Europe ;
in 1829, Parley's Winter Evening Tales; in 1830,
Parley's Juvenile Tales, and Parley's Asia, Africa,
Sun, Moon, and Stars. About this time the public
guessed my secret — it being first discovered and di
vulged by a woman — Mrs. Sarah J. Hale, to whom,
by the way, I am indebted for many kind offices in
my literary career — yet I could have wished she
had not done me this questionable favor. Though
the authorship of the Parley books has been to me a
source of some gratification, you will see, in the se
quel, that it has also subjected me to endless vexa
tions.

I shall not weary you with a detail of my proceed
ings at this busy and absorbed period of iny life. 1
had now obtained a humble position in literature,
and was successful in such unambitious works as 1
attempted. I gave myself up almost wholly for about
four years — that is, from 1828 to 1832 — to author-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 281

ship, generally writing fourteen hours a day. A
part of the time I was entirely unable to read, and
could write but little, on .account of the weakness
of my eyes. In my larger publications, I employed
persons to block out work for me ; this was read to
me, and then I put it into style, generally writing by
dictation, my wife being my amanuensis. Thus em
barrassed, I still, by dint of incessant toil, produced
five or six volumes a year, mostly small, but some of
larger compass.

In the midst of these labors — that is, in the spring
of 1832 — I was suddenly attacked with symptoms,
which seemed to indicate a disease of the heart, rap
idly advancing to a fatal termination. In the course
of a fortnight I was so reduced as not to be able to
mount a pair of stairs without help, and a short walk
produced palpitations of the heart, which in several
instances almost deprived me of consciousness. There
seemed no hope but in turning my back upon my
business, and seeking a total change of scene and cli
mate. In May I embarked for England, and after a
few weeks reached Paris. I here applied to Baron
Larroque,who, assisted by L'Herminier — both eminent
specialists in diseases of the heart — subjected me to
various experiments, but without the slightest advan
tage. At this period I was obliged to be carried up
stairs, and never ventured to walk or ride alone,
being constantly subject to nervous spasms, which
often brought me to the verge of suffocation.

282 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Despairing of relief here, I returned to London,
and was carefully examined by Sir B. C. Brodie.* He
declared that I had no organic disease, that my diffi
culty was nervous irritability, and that whereas the
French physicians had interdicted wine and required
me to live on a light vegetable diet, I must feed well
upon good roast beef, and take two generous glasses of
port with my dinner ! Thus encouraged, I passed on
to Edinburgh, where I consulted Abercrombie,f then
at the height of his fame. He confirmed the views
of Dr. Brodie, in the main, and regarding the irregu
larities of my vital organs as merely functional, still
told me that, without shortening my life, they would
•probably never be wholly removed. He told me of
an instance in which a patient of his, who, having
been called upon to testify before the committee of
the House of Commons, in the trial of Warren Hast-

* Sir Benjamin C. Brodie was at this time one of the most eminent
Burgeons in London. His reputation has since even been enhanced ; his
various publications — Clinical Lectures in Surgery, Pathological and Sur
gical Observations on Diseases of the Joints, Lectures on Diseases of
the Urinary Organs, and Surgical Works — all of which have been pub
lished in this country — have given him a world-wide fame. It was not
a little remarkable to me, to find a man of his eminence thus positively
and authoritatively reversing the recommendations of French practi
tioners, of hardly inferior fame. Of one thing I am convinced, that for
us Anglo-Saxons an Anglo-Saxon practitioner is much better than a
Gallic one. I shall have a few words more to say on this subject.

t Dr. John Abercrombie held the highest rank in his profession at
this period. He was still more distinguished as a writer, his Inquiries
concerning the Intellectual Powers being published in 1830, and his
Philosophy of the Moral Feelings in 1833. He was a man of refined
personal appearance, and most gentle manners. He died in 1844,
aged 63.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 283

ings — from mere embarrassment — had been seized
with palpitation of the heart, which, however, con
tinued till his death, many years after. Even this
somber view of my case was then a relief. Four and
twenty years have passed since that period, and thus
far my experience has verified Dr. Abercrombie's
prediction. These nervous attacks pursue me to
this day, yet I have become familiar with them, and
regarding them only as troublesome visitors, I re
ceive them patiently and bow them out as gently as
I can.*

After an absence of six months I returned to Bos
ton, and by the advice of my physician took up my
residence in the country. I built a house at Jamaica
Plain, four miles from the city, and here I continued
for more than twenty years. My health was partially
restored, and I resumed my literary labors, which I

* I make this statement chiefly because I think it may be useful to
persons, who, like myself, have abused their constitutions by sedentary
habits and excessive mental labor, and who consequently are afflicted
with nervous attacks, putting on the semblance of organic diseases of
the heart. Not long since, I met with an old friend, a physician, who
had abandoned his profession for authorship : with a dejected counte
nance he told me he was sinking under a disease of the heart ! I in
quired his symptoms, which corresponded with my own. I related to
him my experience. A few days after I met him, and saw in his cheer
ful face that I had cured him. I give this prescription gratis to all my
literary friends : let them beware of overtasking the brain; but if they
do make this mistake, let them not lay the consequent irregularities of
the vital organs to the heart. In nine cases out of ten they belong to
the head — to the nervous system — which centers in the brain. Get
that right by bodily exercise, by cheerful intercourse with friends, by
a conscience void of offense, by generous living, by early rising and early
going to bed, and by considering that the body will always take ven
geance upon the mind, if the latter is permitted to abuse the former.

284:

continued, steadily, from 1833 to 1850, with a few
episodes of lecturing and legislating, three voyages
to Europe, and an extensive tour to the South. It
would be tedious and unprofitable to you, were I
even to enumerate my various works — produced
from the beginning to the present time. I may sum
up the whole in a single sentence : I am the author
and editor of about one hundred and seventy vol
umes, and of these seven millions have been sold !*

1 have said that however the authorship of Par
ley's Tales has made me many friends, it Las also
subjected me to many annoyances. Some of these
are noticed in a letter I addressed to the editor of
the New York Times in December, 1855, a portion
of which I here copy, with slight modifications, as
the easiest method of making you comprehend my
meaning.

SIR : — Some days since I learned, through a friend, that the
editor of the Boston Courier,- in noticing the death of the late
Samuel Kettell,f had said or intimated that he was the author of
Peter Parley's Tales. I therefore wrote to the said editor on
the subject, and he has this day furnished me with the paper
alluded to — December 10th — in which I find the following
statement :

* For a list of my various works, see p. 537 of this volume.

t Mr. Samuel Kettell was a native of Newburyport, Mass., and born
A. D. 1800. He was for the most part self-educated, and without being
a critical scholar, was a man of large acquirements, the master, 1 believe,
of more than a dozen languages. In 1832 he visited Europe, and wrote
some clever essays in the British magazines. In 1848 he assumed the
editorship of the Boston Courier, and so continued till his death in 1855,
though his active labors were suspended for some months before by hi»
protracted illness

HISTORICAL, ANKCDOTICAL, ETC.

285

" Mr. S. G. Goodrich also found work for him— Mr. Kettell—
and many of those historical compendiuins which came out
under the name of Peter Parley, were in fact the work of Mr.
Kettell. He is the veritable Peter Parley," &c.

Now, Mr. Editor, it happens that for nearly thirty years, I
have appeared before the public as the author of Peter Parley's
Tales. It would seem, therefore, if this statement were true,
that I have been for this length of time arrayed in borrowed
plumes, thus imposing upon the public, and now wronging the
dead. It was no doubt the amiable purpose of the writer of
the article in question to place me in this position. I am, how
ever, pretty well used to this sort of thing, and I should not
take the trouble to notice this new instance of impertinence,
were it not that 1 have a batch on hand, and may as well put
them all in and make one baking of them.

To begin. There is a man by the name of Martin, in London,
and who takes the name of Peter Parley Martin. He writes
books boldly under the name of Peter Parley, and they are
palmed off as genuine works by the London publishers. These,
and other forgeries of a similar kind by other writers, have been
going on for fifteen years or more, until there are thirty or forty
volumes of them in circulation in England.

Among these London counterfeiters, there was formerly a
bookseller by the name of Lacey. He was what is called a
Pvemainder Man— that is, he bought the unsold and unsalable
ends of editions, put them in gaudy bindings, and thus disposed
of them. When he got possession of a defunct juvenile work,
he galvanized it into life by putting Parley's name to it— as
"Grandfather's Tales, by Peter Parley," &c. This proved a
thrifty trade, and the man, as I have been told, has lately re
tired upon a fortune.

It is indeed notorious, that handsome sums have been realized
in London by authors and publishers there, in republishing the
genuine Parley books, artd also by publishing counterfeit ones.
This matter has gone to such lengths, and has become so mis-

286 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

chievous to me as well as to the public, that I have brought an
action against Darton & Co.,* one of the principal London houses
concerned in this fraud, and I hope to have it decided that an
author who gives value to a name — even though it be fictitious
— may be protected in its use and profit, as well as the Arnos-
keag Manufacturing Company for their trade-mark, " A No. 1,"
put upon their cottons, and which the courts have decided to be
their property.

In general, my rights in regard to the use of the name of
Parley, have been respected in the United States ; but it appears
that about two years ago, when I was in Europe, a New York
bookseller — under the inspiration of a man who writes Reverend
before his name — undertook to follow in the footsteps of these
English counterfeiters; so he put forth two volumes, naming
the one Parley's Pictorial, and the other Parley's Household
Library, &c. I understand that these are made up of old plates
from Parley's Magazine, with slight alterations so as to disguise
the real nature and origin of the works. In order more com
pletely to deceive the public, he attached the above titles, which
imply that these works are by me, and are issued, in their present
form, by my sanction.

Thus the innocent public is duped. In point of fact, there is
not, I think, a page of my writing in these volumes, excepting
passages taken from my works, in violation of my copyrights.
The credit of originating these productions belongs, I believe, to
the reverend gentleman above alluded to, and not to the pub
lisher — though the latter, knowing the character of the works,
aids and abets their circulation.

A still more recent instance of this borrowed use of Peter
Parley's name has been brought to my notice. A few days
since a man named 1 who, it is said, has been a govern
ment employe abroad, and has lately got leave to return, was
introduced to one of the public schools in this city as the verita
ble author of Peter Parley's Tales. To certify his identity, it

* See pages 296-806.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 287

was further added by the teacher that he was the father of
aDick Tinto!" This man, who was not your humble servant,
nor, I am happy to say, a relative, nor an acquaintance of his,
still received these honors as his due — and perhaps I shall ere
long be obliged to defend myself against a claim that he is I,
and that I am not myself! '

To pass over these and other similar instances, I come now to
the latest, if not the last — the declaration of the editor of the
Boston Courier, that Mr. Kettell was the real author of Parley's
Tales. If Mr. Kettell were living, he would even more readily
contradict this assertion than myself, for he would have felt
alike the ridicule and the wrong that it would attach to his
name. Were it my purpose to write a biographical notice of
this gentleman, I should have nothing unpleasant to say of him.
He was a man of large acquirements, a good deal of humor, and
some wit, with great simplicity, truth, and honor of character.
He was not, however, thrifty in the ways of the world. Among
all his writings there is not, I believe, a book of which he was
the designer, or, strictly speaking, the author. But he was still
a ready writer when he had his task set before him. So much
is due as a passing notice to the memory of a man with whom
I had relations for twenty years, always amicable, and I believe
mutually satisfactory, if not mutually beneficial.

But as to the statements of the editor of the Boston Courier
above alluded to, as well as some others in his obituary of Mr.
Kettell, there is great inaccuracy. Let me lay the axe at the
root of the main statement at once, by declaring, that of the
thirty or forty volumes of Parley's Tales, Mr. Kettell never wrote
a line or sentence of any of them, nor, so for as I now recollect,
did any other person except myself. The Parley series was be
gun and in the full tide of success before I ever saw Mr. Kettell.

It is quite true, that in my larger geographical and historical
works — some of them extending to over one thousand royal
octavo pages — I had assistants, as is usual, nay, indispensable,
in such cases, Mr. Kettell among others. Some of those were

^88 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

young men, who have since risen to fame in both hemispheres.
If all who assisted me were now to come forward and claim to
be original Peter Parleys, there would be a very pretty family
of us !

The writer of the Courier article in question intimates that
Mr. Kettell was ill paid, and by a Latin quotation suggests that
T made use of him to my own advantage, while he, the real au
thor of books which I published, was robbed of his due ! This is
a serious charge, and it may be well to give it a pointed answer.

As to the statement that Mr. Kettell was ill paid — let me ask
the reason, if such were the fact ? In general, things will bring
their value — literature as well as any other commodity. Why
was it, then, that he accepted this insufficient pay ? If I did not
compensate him adequately, why did he serve me ? The world is
wide, the market free; Mr. Kettell was familiarly acquainted
with every publisher in Boston : if he wrote for me, the infer
ence is that I paid him better than anybody else would have
done. Nay, if the editor of the Boston Courier does not
know, there are others who do, that I was for years his only
reliance and resource. He went to Europe without a dollar in
his pocket except what I gave him for his writings. While at
Paris, being in a state of absolute destitution, he wrote home to
his friend, S. P. Holbrook, for help. This was furnished by the
contributions of his friends, myself among the number.

The editor, in enumerating Mr. Kettell's literary labors, gives
him high credit as the editor of the three volumes of Specimens
of American Poetry, which I published. This is no doubt one
of the instances, according to this writer, in which I sponged the
brains of another to his wrong and my advantage. Let us see
the facts :

I projected the aforesaid work, and employed Mr. F. S. Hill
as editor. He began it, collected materials, and wrote the first
part of it. At his instance, I had purchased nearly one hun
dred scarce books for the enterprise. The work, thus begun,
the p..an indicated, the materials to a great extent at command,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 289

with numerous articles actually written, passed into Mr. KettelFs
hands. I think, with the editor of the Courier, that considering
the extent of the undertaking, and that it was then a new en
terprise, compelling the editor to grope in the mazes of a new
and unexplored wilderness, that Mr. Kettell displayed a tolera
ble degree of patience and research, and a fair share of critical
sagacity. But nevertheless, the work was a most disastrous
failure, involving me not only in a pecuniary loss of fifteen hun
dred dollars, but the mortification of having the work pass into
a kind of proverb of misfortune or misjudgment. More than
once I have heard it spoken of as " Goodrich's Kettle of Poetry !"
This arose, no doubt, partly from the idea then encouraged by
the critics, that it was the height of folly for us, Americans, to
pretend to have any literature. To include the writings of Tim
othy D wight, Joel Barlow, and Phillis Wheatley in a book call
ed Poetry, was then deemed a great offense at the bar of criti
cism. It is true that these notions have passed away, and Dr.
Griswold and Messrs. Duyckinck have found in the mine
wrought so abortively by Mr. Kettell, both gold and glory.
There were, however, other reasons for his failure, and among
them an unfortunate slip as to the authorship of " Hail Colum
bia," which stood thus:

" J. HOPKINSON :

" We have no knowledge of this author. The popular na
tional ode which follows, appeared first, we believe, in Philadel
phia.1'

Such ignorance and such carelessness were deemed offensive
by the friends of Judge Hopkinson, son of the well-known author
of the " Battle of the Kegs," and other popular effusions, and
himself a somewhat noted poet. Mr. Walsh made this, and other
blunders, the occasion of a stinging castigation in his National
Gazette. The result was injurious to Mr. Kettell in many ways :
it injured his rising literary reputation, and so shattered his nerves
that for some years he lost courage as well as encouragement, ex-

VOL. II.— 13

290 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

cept what I continued to give him, despite this failure. It was
subsequent to this that I supplied him with the means of going
to Europe, and thus furnished him with the opportunity of ta
king a new start in the world. And yet I sponged this man's
brains, and stole his fair fame — according to this Boston writer !

I suppose, Mr. Editor, that this is enough for the present ; and
yet I am disposed to crave a little more of your patience and
your space, to state more precisely my relations with Mr. Ket-
tell, and thus remove him from the disadvantageous light in
which he is placed by the ill-judged pretenses of his too earnest
friend.

During a space of twelve or fifteen years, and that the most
active and engrossed portion of my life, I suffered greatly from
a disease in my eyes, which threatened blindness : sometimes
for weeks together I was confined to a dark room. At that
period I wrote almost wholly by dictation, my wife being my
amanuensis. I wrote several of the Parley books, she sitting on
one side of a green curtain in the light, and I on the other side,
confined to the darkness. Several volumes of the Token were
mostly edited in this way.

It is quite obvious that in such a condition, and being at the
time busily engaged in writing, as well as publishing books, I
must have needed assistance. At this time, Mr. Kettell was
useful to me, especially as he was familiar with libraries, and
had a remarkable tact in finding facts. And yet it is equally
true that Mr. Kettell never wrote a page for me at his own
suggestion, nor by his own planning. lie wrote on subjects
prescribed by me, and in the manner prescribed by me — even
to the length of paragraphs, verses, and chapters. Moreover,
what he had thus blocked out, was laboriously remodeled to
suit my own taste, to clothe it in my own style, and to bring it
into conformity with my own plan. Often this process was in
finitely more laborious to me than would have been the outright
and entire compilation, if I could have used my eyes. In this
way, however, and under these circumstances, Mr. Kettell aid-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 29 J

ed me ; he was also, sometimes, my amanuensis ; but he was
not, nor did he ever claim to be, in any proper sense of the word.,
the author of a single page of a book which was published un
der my own name, or that of Peter Parley. In the large gee
graphical work already alluded to, in which I had the assist
ance of Mr. Kettell, as well as of two other persons of grea»
ability and reputation, this assistance was duly acknowledged in
the preface.*

Now, while I thus correct the misrepresentations of this Bos
ton editor, I desire to leave no unpleasant impressions upon the
name and memory of Mr. Kettell. He is, indeed, beyond the
reach of praise or blame; but still truth has its requisitions, and
it would be a violation of these, were I to cast upon him any
reproach. He certainly was deficient in the art of devising seri
ous and extended works ; he had not the steady, penetrating
judgment necessary to such performances. Still, he possessed
certain faculties in high perfection — a marvelous capacity for
the acquisition of languages, a taste for antiquarian lore, a large
stock of historical anecdote, a genial humor, a playful though
grotesque wit, and, withal, a kind, gentle, truthful heart. He
was so much a man of genius, that his fame could not be bene
fited by the reputation of the humble authorship of Parley's
Tales. Certainly his honest nature would have revolted at the
pretense now set up that he was in any manner or degree, enti
tled to it.t

* See preface to Universal Geography, published in 1832.
t This letter led to a lengthened controversy, the result of -which is
stated in the Appendix to this volume, page 543.

292 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

LETTER XLVIII,

Republication of Parley"1 s Tales in London — Mr. Tegg^s operations — Imi
tated by other publishers — Peter Parley Martin — Letter to Mr. Dartor.
— An edition of the false Parleys in America — The consequences.

MY DEAR C******

When I was in London, in 1832, I learned that
Mr. Tegg, then a prominent publisher there, had
commenced the republication of Parley's Tales. I
called upon him, and found that he had one of them
actually in press. The result of our interview was
a contract,* in which I engaged to prepare several

* As my claim to the authorship of the Parley Tales has been disputed
in London, by interested publishers, I may as well copy the contract
made with Mr. Tegg, which is now before me. It is, I believe, univer
sally admitted that the works published by him, were the first that
introduced the name of Peter Parley to the public there, and as the
contract explicitly refers them to me, it seems there should be no fur
ther doubt on the subject.
" MEMORANDUM OF AGREEMENT, between Thomas Tegg, publisher, of

London, and S. G. Goodrich, of Boston, United States of America:

"The saidS. G. Goodrich having written and compiled several works,
as Peter Parley's Tales of Animals, Peter Parley's Tales of America, of
Europe, of Asia, of Africa, of the Sea, of the Islands in the Pacific Ocean,
of the Sun, Moon, and Stars, &c., &c.

" Now said Goodrich is to revise said works, and carefully prepare
them for publication, and said Tegg is to get copyrights for and publish
the same, with cuts, maps, &c., as may be required, and said Tegg is to
supply the market, and push the sales, and take all due measures to
promote the success of said works.

" And in consideration of the premises, said Tegg agrees to pay said
Goodrich, ten pounds sterling on every thousand copies printed of Par
ley's Tales of Animals, after the fir^t edition (which consists of four
thousand copies, and is nearly printed); and for each of the other works
he agrees to pay said Goodrich five pounds on the delivery of the revised
copy for the- same, and five pounds for every thousand copies printed

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 293

of these works, which he agreed to publish, giving
me a small consideration therefor. Four of these
works I prepared on the spot, and after my return to
America, prepared and forwarded ten others. Some
time after, I learned that the books, or at least a por
tion of them, had been published in London, and were
very successful. I wrote to Mr. Tegg several letters
on the subject, but could get no reply.

Ten years passed away, and being in pressing need
of all that I might fairly claim as my due, I went to
London, and asked Mr. Tegg to render me an ac
count of his proceedings, under the contract. I had
previously learned, on inquiry, that he had indeed
published four or five of the works as we had
agreed, but taking advantage of these, which passed
readily into extensive circulation, he proceeded to set
aside the contract, and to get up a series of publica
tions upon the model of those I had prepared for
him, giving them, in the title-pages, the name of Par
ley, and passing them off upon the public, by every
artifice in his power, as the genuine works of that

after the first edition, and also a premium or bonus of five pounds on
each work (in addition to the above stipulations), when four thousand
copies are sold or disposed of, of the same.

" And when said Goodrich is out of the country, said Tegg is to fur
nish certificates of sales, &c., as may be required by said Goodrich or
his itgiint. Said Tegg, it is understood, is not bound to publish any of
these works which he deems unsuited to the country; but said Good
rich is at liberty to dispose of, to any other publisher, any work which
said Tegg, on application, declines publishing.

" THOMAS TKOO,
" S. G. GOODKICH."
" London, June 30, 1832."

294

LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

author. He had thus published over a dozen vol
umes, which he was circulating as "Peter Parley's
Library." The speculation, as I was told, had suc
ceeded admirably, and I was assured that many thou
sand pounds of profit had been realized thereby.

To my request for an account of his stewardship,
Mr. Tegg replied, in general terms, that I was misin
formed as to the success of the works in question ;
that, in fact, they had been a very indifferent specu
lation; that he found the original works were not
adapted to his purpose, and he had consequently got
up others ; that he had created, by advertising and
other means, an interest in these works, and had thus
greatly benefited the name and fame of Parley, and,
all things considered, he thought he had done more
for me than I had for him ; therefore, in his view,
if we considered the account balanced, we should not
be very far from a fair adjustment.

To this cool answer I made a suitable reply, but
without obtaining the slightest satisfaction. The
contract I had made was a hasty memorandum, and
judicially, perhaps, of no binding effect on him. And
besides, I had no money to expend in litigation. A
little reflection satisfied me that I was totally at
Tegg's mercy — a fact of which his calm and collected
manner assured me he was even more conscious than
myself. The discussion was not prolonged. At the
second interview he cut the whole matter short, by
saying — " Sir, I do not owe you a farthing ; neither

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 295

justice nor law require me to pay you any thing.
Still, I am an old man, arid have seen a good deal of
life, and have learned to consider the feelings of
others as well as my own. I will pay you four hun
dred pounds, and we will be quits ! If we can not do
this, we can do nothing." In view of the whole case,
this was as much as I expected, and so I accepted the
proposition. I earnestly remonstrated with Mr. Tegg
against the enormity of making me responsible for
works I never wrote, but as to all actual claims on
the ground of the contract, I gave him a receipt in
full, and we parted.

Some years after this Mr. Tegg died, but his estab
lishment passed into the hands of one of his sons,
with another person, by whom it is still continued ;
the false " Parley's Library" having been recently
enlarged by the addition of other counterfeits.* An
example so tempting and so successful as that I have
described, was sure to be followed by others, and ere
long many of the first publishers of juvenile works in
London, had employed persons to write books under
the name of Peter Parley — every thing being done in
the title-pages, prefaces, advertisements, &c., to make
the public receive them as genuine works. The extent
to which this business was carried, and the position in
which it placed me, may be gathered from a letter I
addressed to a publishing house in London some two
years since, and which was substantially as follows :

* For a list of some of these works see p. 551 ; see also, p. 553.

296 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

ST. PAUL'S COFFEE-HOUSE, LONDON,

October 18, 1854.
MR. DARTON, BOOKSELLER,
HOLBORN HILL, LONDON.

SIR, — Happening to be in this city, I called two days
since at your counting-room, and while waiting there for an
answer to inquiries I had made, I was attracted by a volume,
glowing in red and gold, lying upon the table. I took it
up, and read in the title-page —

PETER PARLEY'S ANNUAL:

A Christmas and New- Year's Present for Young People.
NEW YOKK : EVANS AND DICKINSON, ETC.

I was informed that this was one of your publications, de
signed for the coming winter sales, and I had no difficulty in
discovering that there was to be, not only an edition for Eng
land, but one for the United States.

Now I have long known that among the various books that
had been got up in London, under the pretended authorship
of Peter Parley, you have issued an annual volume, with the
above, or a similar title. Some dozen years ago, I remonstra
ted with you upon this, and threatened that I would show
you up in the London Times. You replied, " I will give you
fifty pounds to do it." " How so ?" said I. " Because you
will sell my books without the trouble of my advertising
them," was your answer. " But it will ruin your character,"
I added. " Poh !" said you ; " London is too big for that."

So the matter passed, and might still have passed, had it
not been for the above-named New-York imprint. This has
forced me to a reconsideration of the whole subject of these
London impostures, and I have come to the conclusion, that

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 297

duty to myself, as well as to the public on both sides of the
water, makes it indispensable that I should attempt to put an
end to this great wrong. The course I propose to pursue is,
immediately on my return to the United States, if I find your
edition has been on sale there, to bring an action against the
venders of it, and I have no doubt it will be suppressed. It is
a counterfeit, injurious to me, and fraudulent towards the pub
lic. Our courts have decided that it is unlawful for a man in
the United States to counterfeit even British labels or trade
marks upon British manufactures, these being deemed private
property, which the law holds sacred. If they will thus pro
tect a foreigner, I think they will of course protect an Ameri
can citizen in a case involving the same or similar principles.

If I fail in an attempt at legal remedy, I shall appeal to the
American public, and I cannot doubt that any vender of these
fraudulent publications will be so rebuked as to put an end to
such practices, there. On a former occasion, it was proposed
to issue a work at New York, under the name of Peter Parley.
I simply published the fact, that this was without my concur
rence, and a hurricane of denunciation from the press, all over
the country, silenced the project forever.

So far my course is clear : as to the British public, I pro
pose to publish the facts, and make an appeal to their sense of
justice. In respect to the past, there is perhaps no remedy.
No doubt I have too long neglected this matter, and perhaps
my silence may be urged by interested and unscrupulous par
ties as having sanctioned the fraud which has consequently
grown into a system. Nevertheless, the fact certainly is, that
it has always been known and admitted, in England as else
where, that I am the original author of Peter Parley's Tales,

298 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

and am entitled to the merit, or demerit, of having given cur
rency to that name. You have had intercourse with me for
the last fifteen years, and you have always known and admit
ted my claims. You have vindicated your publication of this
false Annual to me, on no higher grounds than that it wras
begun by other parties, and would be carried on by others if
you abandoned it.

I have had applications, as the author of Peter Parley's
Tales, from various publishers in England, and interviews with
still others, but never, in a single instance, have I known these
claims to be questioned. I have seen my name circulating,
for the last dozen years, in the London papers, as the author
of Parley's Tales. All over Europe I have met with English
people, who recognized me as such.

I am aware that there is in London a man by the name of
Martin, who has written many of these counterfeit Parley
books, and is familiarly known there as "Peter Parley Martin."
I believe he is the editor of your Annual. Now we know it
to be proverbial, that a man may tell a falsehood so often as to
believe it ; and hence it is quite possible that this Martin
thinks himself the real Peter. Still, if it be so, he is only one
self-duped monomaniac: neither you nor any other publisher
in London is deceived by it. How honorable men can have
intercourse with such a creature, and even become accessory
to his impostures, passes my comprehension.

It is plain then, that if I have thus delayed to rectify this
wrong, the real facts of the case are not obscured. The Brit
ish public know that I am the author of the veritable works
of Peter Parley. They may not, they cannot always distin
guish between the true and the false, and therefore buy

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 299

both, indiscriminately. Still, though thus accessory to the
fiaud, it is ignorantly and unwittingly done, and they are not
chargeable with wrong, at least toward me. The publishers
and authors of these counterfeits are the guilty parties. I
may complain of these, but not of the people of England, until
I have first stated to them, authoritatively, the facts, and
pointed out the true and the false publications. When I have
done this, if they still encourage the perpetrators of this
wrong, they will become its participators. If I understand the
tone and sentiment of the English people, they will be quite
as ready to rebuke this system of piracy as were the people of
the United States on the occasion to which I have referred.

Another thing is plain, that neither the authors nor pub
lishers concerned in this system of deception and plunder,
pursue it in doubt or ignorance of the facts. You will not
pretend this for yourself. Other cases are equally clear.
Some dozen years ago, being in London, and in pressing need
of the avails of my literary labor and reputation, I was intro
duced to Mr. T . . ., then in active business, and taking the
lead in juvenile publications. I proposed to him to publish
some of mine, which I had just revised and emended. After
<i week's examination, he returned them, saying that they were
clever enough in their way, but they would not do for him.
They were tainted with Americanisms, republicanisms, latitu-
dinaiianisms, in church and state. He could only publish
books, orthodox according to British ideas. If I could re
model them, or allow them to be remodeled, so as to conform
to this standard, we could do a good business together.

This I did not accede to, and we parted. Yet within about
a twelvemonth, this same Mr. T... published a book entitled

300 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

" Peter Parley's Lives of the Apostles, etc" It was written
in a pious strain ; it was thoroughly orthodox, according to
the British platform. It was, moreover, beautifully bound,
printed, and illustrated. No doubt it was a capital specula
tion, for besides its artistic and mechanical recommendations,
it was suited to the public taste, and of course the innocent
public were ignorant of its illegitimate parentage. Not so the
scrupulous Mr. T . . . — not so the pious author : they knew that
each page was contaminated Avith falsehood, and all the more
base, because from the beginning to the end, there was a sed
ulous and, I might add, a skillful effort to make it appear that
the book was written by me. Would the British people buy
even such embellished orthodoxy, if they knew that the " trail
of the serpent was over it all ?"

I recite this, not because it is the worst case, but rather be
cause it is a fair example of the conduct of British authors and
British publishers in this matter. Examples of practices more
mean, if not more wicked, might be cited. At the period
above-mentioned, there was a bookseller in London, whose
sign was "Books for the Million" — a "remainder" man, who
bought unsold sheet-stock of publishers, put it in gaudy bind
ing, and sold it at a cheap rate. As I ascertained, he was ac
customed to tear out the original and true titles of these de
funct publications, and put in new and false ones, such as
" Grandfather's Tales, by Peter Parley" or something of that
kind. Peter Parley thus fathered quite a library — and thus,
galvanized into new life, this man sold his works by the mil
lion, according to his sign. Recently, I am told, he has re
tired upon a handsome fortune.

I think, therefore, that the plea of ignorance, on the part o-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 301

the British authors and publishers in this system of counter
feits, will not avail, even if it be made. And what other ex
cuse can they offer ? If by way of palliative, rather than de
fense, they say one has done it, and another has done it, and
therefore I did it, and it has hitherto passed with impunity —
though I cannot believe this will satisfy either the consciences
of the wrong-doers, or British public opinion ; still, I feel dis
posed to let it pass as a sort of excuse for the past. But as to
the future, is it not my manifest duty to deprive them of this
plea? Is it right, supposing I had no personal interest or
feeling in the matter, to let this go on ? You must be aware
that a new and material fact is introduced into the question :
you have begun, or are beginning, this system of fraud in
America, in New York, at the threshold of my domicile.
You carry the war into Africa. An example thus set, if not
resisted, will be soon followed, and my name will be as cheap
in the United States as in the Three Kingdoms. Can I be
held innocent, if I remain silent, and permit the American
public to be abused and debauched by the introduction ot
this system there ?

It appears to me there can be but one answer. And even
supposing I could waive these considerations, may I not, must
I not, as a man having some self-respect, and being besides de
pendent upon my literary exertions and reputation, resist this
inroad upon my rights, and endeavor to throw off this grow
ing incubus upon my name and fame ? Such a burden in
one hemisphere is enough : must I bear it in both ?

It is difficult to reflect on such a subject as this without ir
ritation. Nevertheless I endeavor to school myself into a cer
tain degree of calmness. As to my course in America, the

302 LETTEKS BIOGRAPHICAL,

first step is clear, as I have indicated. But how shall I begin
in England ? Shall I expose the facts, refer to names, point
out the counterfeits and the counterfeiters, and appeal to the
moral sense of the people there ? This is undoubtedly my
right, and a natural indignation suggests that it is my duty
Yet I shrink from such a proceeding. I know that I may
bring upon myself many an envenomed shaft ; for there may
be a powerful interest aroused into activity against me. We
all know that in London, as elsewhere, there are mercenary
presses, which can be hired to defend a bad cause, and such a
defense generally consists in vengeful recrimination.

Now I may not — nay, I do not — fear the result. I will not
suspect for a moment, that in so plain a case, the verdict of
public opinion in England could be otherwise than favorable
to me. Nevertheless, I am a peace-loving man, and do not
court the process. I have been often attacked — sometimes
very unjustly ; yet I have seldom made a reply.

Many years ago, I presided at a convention in Boston,
which passed resolutions against International Copyright.
As president I signed the proceedings, and thus became the
target of many a bitter shaft, hurled at me personally, by the
London press, which was then somewhat rabid in its attempts
to force us into the proposed literary partnership. The late
Mr. Hood stuck me all over with epithets of ridicule. His
books are still published, and are in the popular libraries of
the United States, with these passages in full. I have often
read them myself, and laughed at them, too, notwithstanding
their intrinsic malevolence. Yet, though I had and have an
answer to make, and I believe an effective one, I have never

%

thought it Worth while to give it to the public. Being in

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 303

London, in 1842 I saw Mr. Hood, and suggested to him that
there was another side to this question, and he offered me the
pages of his magazine for the publication of my views. Yet
I did not accept of this ; my conviction was that the venom
of his attack would die out, and I should be spared the irrita
tion and annoyance of a controversy, necessarily in some de
gree personal, inasmuch as I had been personally assailed.
Events have shown that I judged rightly. I may add, too,
that I am constitutionally anti-pugnacious, and instinctively
recoil at the idea of a personal and public discussion. I have
no doubt indulged this to the extent of weakness, in respect
to the matter in hand, and hence the evil has assumed its
present enormity.

And, in addition to this, I dislike to disturb the amicable
relations which have long subsisted between you and me ; I
dislike exceedingly to arraign you before the world, as one of
the very leaders — in point of fact, the head and front offender
— in what I consider a great public and personal wrong.
What I desire is, if possible, to conduct this affair so as to
avoid any direct notice of yourself in the appeal to the British
public, if I conclude to make it. What I have to propose is,
that you now enter into an engagement, henceforth to issue
no volume and sell no volume whatever, with Parley's name,
of which I am not the acknowledged author ; and further
more, that you make such indemnity to me, and such expla
nations to the public, as may be deemed light ana reasonable
by arbitrators between us. If you must publish an annual,
put Mr. Martin's name to it, or any other name you choose,
only not mine. I am told that you have thriven in business,
and that " Parley's Annual " has largely contributed to youi

304 LETTEES BIOGRAPHICAL,

success. Your purse, then, and I hope your feelings, will
make this suggestion easy.

If you cannot be persuaded to adopt this line of conduct by
the argument against injustice and fraud ; if you pay no re
gard to the influence which a public declaration of the facts
may have on your reputation, still, reflect on my position.
Many of these counterfeit Parley books are to me nauseous in
style, matter, and purpose. According to my taste, they are
full of vulgarisms, degrading phrases, and coarse ideas. In
some cases they advocate principles which are not mine, and
manners and customs I disapprove. This very volume of
yours, for 1854, in spite of its gold edges, colored engravings,
and embossed binding, is mainly written in a low, bald, and
vulgar style ; and withal is ridiculous from its affected Parley
isms. Rich outside, it is within smitten with poverty. Yet
I am obliged to bear all this. Is it fair, is it neighborly, to
treat any one thus ?

Remember, I am not speaking hypothetically. My reputa
tion has been attacked, my literary rank degraded, by being
made responsible for works I never wrote. The Westminster
Review, some years ago, criticised the Parley Books, as sullied
by coarse phrases and vulgar Americanisms. Extracts were
made to verify this criticism, and yet every extract was from
a false book, or a false passage foisted into a true one. Not
one line of the damnatory examples did I ever write. Pre
cisely this process of degradation must have been going on
against me, for the last dozen years, in the public mind of
England, through the influence of your counterfeits.

Is this fair ? Will this do ? Will you stand by it here and
hereafter? Remember, this is a totally different question

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 305

from that of International Copyright. I have never com
plained that you or any other foreign publisher has reprinted
my books as I wrote them. Do this, as much as you please ;
so long as the law remains as it is, such a course is inevitable,
on both sides of the water. Alter my books, if you please,
and publish them, only stating distinctly what you have done.
This is lawful, and I shall not complain of it. In point of
fact, you have published at least one book — for that I chanced
to see — made up nearly, if not quite, of extracts from my
works, yet a man by the name of Greene figured in the title-
page as the author. I have also seen whole pages of my wri
tings, in your other various publications, the same, by the
manner of insertion, appearing as being original there. Of all
this, however I might disapprove it, I have never uttered a
word of complaint. But what I do complain of, is this : that
you take my name, to which I have given currency, in order
to sell books / never wrote. You say to the world, Mr. Good
rich, the author of Peter Parley's Tales, wrote this: the
world buy it, and judge me accordingly. And thus I am
robbed of what to me is property, and at the same time I suf
fer that other and greater calamity, the loss or damage of a
good name. That is my complaint.

If upon this appeal, you assent to my proposition — though
I must carry on the proposed prosecution in the United States,
if the edition referred to has been sent there — I shall feel that
I can afford, so far as the British public are concerned, to
make a general and not a particular and specific declaration
of the facts herein alluded to. I shall not then need to direct
attention personally to you, or to anybody. If, on the con
trary, you do not enter into this or some satisfactory arrange-

306 LETTEES BIOGRAPHICAL,

ment, [ shall feel that you have been fairly warned, and that
you can not hold rne responsible for any annoyance you may
suffer .from the consequences. I shall, moreover, consider my
self at liberty, should I deem it best, to give publicity to this
letter. However hastily written, it embodies the substance
of my views, and though further publications would doubt
less become necessary, this might serve as one link in the
chain of my statement.

I am yours truly,

S. G. GOODRICH.

This letter was forwarded from Paris, where I was
then residing, some weeks after it was written. Re
ceiving no reply, I addressed a reminder to Mr. Dar-
ton, but that also was unanswered. In July, 1855,
I returned to New York, and on inquiry, found that
sixteen hundred copies of the Parley's Annual, referred
to in the preceding letter, had been sent there, and were
actually in the Custom-liouse /* I could not but con-

* These sixteen hundred copies, being enjoined, and remaining in
the Custom-house beyond the time allowed by law, were consequently
sold at auction in June, 1856, and were thus thrown into the New York
market. The following are extracts from this work :

" The Americans equal Mr. Jesse for story-telling. They are not par
ticularly nice as to data. Some of their stories are so preposterously
absurd, as to puzzle us exceedingly." * * * *

" Peter Parley loves our good Queen, and delights to follow her in her
rarious progresses," <fec. * * * *

" It was delightful for old Peter to behold the Queen and the Prince,
and not less so to see the young Prince of Wales emulating the British
Tar, and looking like an embryo Nelson, and his heart beat with ardor
at the cheers of the sailors and the roaring of the guns." * * * *

"He (old Peter) loves the sea-breeze, and he would sing with his
poor old voice, like a shattered clarionet, ' Rule, Britannia,' and thank
God that he has lived to see the day when England exhibits to the world
that she is still able to ' rule the waves.' " * * * *

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 307

eider this as a defiance on the part of Mr. Barton,
and accordingly I commenced an action against him,
as I had told him I should do.

The case is still undecided. It is, perhaps, a ques
tion, whether a New York court has jurisdiction in
the case, the defendant being a foreigner, but if it
has, I trust it will be settled by our courts that an
author is entitled to protection in the use and behoof
of a name — however it may be fictitious — with which
he has become identified in the public mind, and to
which he has given a commercial value. This prin
ciple has been fully established in this country as well
as in England, in application to manufacturers and
merchants, and it is not to be supposed that an author
shall be denied the same protection.

Now, you can not suppose, from the facts here
stated, that these things do not give me great annoy
ance. But one thing I am bound to say, which is,
that I feel no personal hostility to Mr. Darton. He is
a most amiable man, and I believe would be the last
person in the world to do an intentional wrong. In
the present case, he has probably yielded to the guid
ance of other parties, implicated like himself, and is
rather fighting their battles than his own.

I have great respect for the Queen of England, for I consider her vir
tuous example, in her high station, as beneficial, not to her own bound
less realms alone, but to the whole world; I have no objection to Eng
lishmen singing "Rule Britannia"— but it is not pleasant to find these
thiiiL's ill a book, issued in the name of Peter Parley, the preface of
which is signed Peter Parley, and which is all written so as to make the
world believe it is the work of an American.

808 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL.

LETTER XLIX,

Objections to the Parley Books — My theory as to books for children —
Attempt in England, to revive the old nursery books — Mr. Felix Summerly
— HallowdVs Nursery Rhymes of England — Dialogue between Timothy
and his mother — Mother Goose — The Toad's Story — Books of instruction.

MY DEAR C******

It is not to be supposed that the annoyances
arising from the falsification of the name of Parley,
which I have just pointed out, have been the only
obstacles which have roughened the current of my
literary life. Not only the faults and imperfections of
execution in my juvenile works — and no one knows
them so well as myself — have been urged against
them, but the whole theory on which they are found
ed has been often and elaborately impugned.

It is quite true that when I wrote the first hali-
d.ozen of Parley's Tales, I had formed no philosophy
upon the subject. I simply used my experience with
children in addressing them. I followed no models,
I put on no harness of the schools, I pored over no
learned examples. I imagined myself on the floor
with a group of boys and girls, and I wrote to them as
1 would have spoken to them. At a later period I had
reflected on the subject, and embodied in a few simple
lines the leading principle of what seemed to me the
true art of teaching children — and that is, to consider
that their first ideas are simple and single, and formed

HISTOKICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 309

of images of things palpable to the senses ; and hence
that these images are to form the staple of lessons to
be communicated to them.

I saw a child, some four years old,

Along a meadow stray ;
Alone she went, uncheck'd, untold,

Her home not far away.

She gazed around on earth and sky,
Now paused and now proceeded;

Hill, valley, wood, she passed them by
Unmarked, perchance unheeded.

And now gay groups of roses bright
In circling thickets bound her —

Yet on she went with footsteps light,
Still gazing all around her.

And now she paused and now she stooped,

And plucked a little flower ;
A simple daisy 'twas, that drooped

Within a rosy bower.

The child did kiss the little gem,

And to her bosom press'd it,
And there she placed the fragile stem,

And with soft words caressed it.

I love to read a lesson true

From nature's open book —
And oft I learn a lesson new

From childhood's careless look.

Children are simple, loving, true —

'Tis God that made them so ;
And would you teach them ? — be so, too,

And stoop to what they know.

310

Begin with simple lessons, things

On which they love to look ;
Flowers, pebbles, insects, birds on wings —

These are God's spelling-book !

And children know his ABO,

As bees where flowers are set :
Wouldst thou a skillful teacher be ?

Learn then this alphabet.

From leaf to leaf, from page to page,

Guide thou thy pupil's look ;
And when he says, with aspect sage —

"Who made this wondrous book?"

Point thou with reverend gaze to heaven.

And kneel in earnest prayer —
That lessons thou hast humbly given.

May lead thy pupil there !

From this initial point I proceeded to others, and
came to the conclusion that in feeding the mind of
children with facts, with truth, and with objective
truth, we follow the evident philosophy of nature and
providence, inasmuch as these had created all chil
dren to be ardent lovers of things they could see and
hear and feel and know. Thus I sought to teach
them history and biography and geography, and all
in the way in which nature would teach them — that
is, by a large use of the senses, and especially by the
eye — the master organ of the body as well as the
soul. I selected as subjects for my books, things ca
pable of sensible representation, such as familiar an
imals, birds, trees, and of these I gave pictures, as a

•• FLOWERS, PEBBLES, INSECTS, BIRDS ON Wmus—

THESE ARE GOD'S SPELLING Boon " Vol 2. p 31!)

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 311

starting point. The first line I wrote was, " Here I
am ; my name is Peter Parley," and before I went
further, gave an engraving representing my hero, as
I wished him to be conceived by my pupils. Before
I began to talk of a lion, I gave a picture of a lion
— my object being, as you will perceive, to have the
child start with a distinct image of what I was about
to give an account of. Thus I secured his interest
in the subject, and thus I was able to lead his under
standing forward in the path of knowledge.

These views of course led me in a direction ex
actly opposite to the old theories in respect to nursery
books, in two respects. In the first place, it was
thought that education should, at the very threshold,
seek to spiritualize the mind, and lift it above sensi
ble ideas, and to teach it to live in the world of im
agination. A cow was very well to give milk, but
when she got into a book, she must jump over the
moon ; a little girl going to see her grandmother,
was well enough as a matter of fact, but to be suited
to the purposes of instruction, she must end her ca
reer in being eaten up by a wolf. My plan was, in
short, deemed too utilitarian, too materialistic, and
hence it was condemned by many persons, and among
them the larger portion of those who had formed their
tastes upon the old classics, from Homer down to
Mother Goose !

This was one objection ; another was, that I aimed
at making education easy — thus bringing up the

312 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

child in habits of receiving knowledge only as made
into pap, and of course putting it out of his power to
relish and digest the stronger meat, even when his
constitution demanded it. The use of engravings in
books for instruction, was deemed a fatal facility,
tending to exercise the child in a mere play of the
senses, while the understanding was left to indolence
and emaciation.

On these grounds, and still others, my little books
met with opposition, sometimes even in grave Quar
terlies and often in those sanctified publications, en
titled Journals of Education. In England, at the pe
riod that the name of Parley was most current — both
in the genuine as well as the false editions — the feel
ing against my j uvenile works was so strong among
the conservatives, that a formal attempt was made to
put them down by reviving the old nursery books.
In order to do this, a publisher in London reproduced
these works, employing the best artists to illustrate
them, and bringing them out in all the captivating lux
uries of modern typography. A quaint, quiet, scholar
ly old gentleman, called Mr. Felix Summerly — a dear
lover of children — was invented to preside over the
enterprise, to rap the knuckles of Peter Parley, and
to woo back the erring generation of children to the
good old orthodox rhymes and jingles of England.

I need hardly say that this attempt failed of suc
cess : after two bankruptcies, the bookseller who con
ducted the enterprise finally abandoned it. Yet such

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 313

was the reverence at the time for the old favorites of
the nursery, that a man by the name of Hallo well*
expended a vast amount of patient research and an
tiquarian lore, in hunting up and setting before the
world, the history of these performances, from Hey
diddle diddle to

" A farmer went trotting upon his gray mare —
Bumpety, bumpety, bump !"

To all this I made no direct reply ; I ventured, how
ever, to suggest my views in the following article
inserted in Merry's Museum for August, 1846.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN TIMOTHY AND HIS MOTHER.

Timothy. Mother ! mother ! do stop a minute, and hear me
say my poetry !

Mother. Your poetry, my son ? Who told you how to make
poetry 1

T. Oh, I don't know ; but hear what I have made up.

M. Well, go on.

T. Now don't you laugh ; it's all mine. I didn't get a bit of
it out of a book. Here it is !

" Higglety, pigglety, pop I
The dog has eat the mop ;
The pig's in a hurry,
The cat's in a flurry —
^ _ T Higglety, pigglety— pop !"
M. Well, go on.

T. Why, that's all. Don't you think it pretty good ?
M. Really, my son, I don't see much sense in it.
T. Sense f Who ever thought of sense, in poetry? Why,

* Nursery Rhymes of England, &c., Collected and Edited by Jame»
Orchard Hallowell.
VOL. II.— 14

314: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

mother, you gave me a book the other day, and it was all poet
ry, and I don't think there was a bit of sense in the whole of it
Hear me read. [Beads.']

" Hub a dub !

Three men in a tub—
And how do you think they got there ?
The butcher,
The baker,

The candlestick-maker,
They all jumped out of a rotten potato :
'Twas enough, to make a man stare."
And here's another.

" A cat came fiddling out of a barn,
With a pair of bagpipes under her arm ;
She could sing nothing but fiddle cum fee —
The mouse has married the humblebee —
Pipe, cat — dance, mouse —
"We'll have a wedding at our good house !"_,

And here's another.

" Hey, diddle, diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon —

The little dog laughed

To see the craft,
And the dish ran after the spoon."

Now, mother, the book is full of such things as these, and 1
don't see any meaning in them.

M. Well, my son, I think as you do : they are really very ab
surd.

T. Absurd? Why, then, do you give me such things to read?

M. Let me ask you a question. Do you not love to read these
rhymes, even though they are silly?

T. Yes, dearly.

M. Well, you have just learned to read, and I thought these
jingles, silly as they are, might induce you to study your book,
and make you familiar with reading.

T. I don't understand you, mother ; but no matter.

" Higglety, pigglety, pop !
The dog has eat the mop ;
The pig's in a hurry — "

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 315

M. Stop, stop, my son. I choose you should understand me.
T. But, mother, what's the use of understanding you ?

" Higglety, pigglety, pop !"

M. Timothy!

T. Ma'am?

M. Listen to me, or you will have cause to repent it. Listen
to what I say 1 I gave you the book to amuse you, and improve
you in reading, not to form your taste in poetry.

T. Well, mother, pray forgive me. I did not mean to offend
you. But I really do love poetry, because it is so silly !

" Higglety, pigglety, pop 1"

M. Don't say that again, Timothy !

T. Well, I won't; but I'll say something out of this pretty
book you gave me.

" Doodledy, doodledy, dan !
I'll have a piper to be my good man —
And if I get less meat, I shall get game —
Doodledy, doodledy, dan I"

M. That's enough, my son.

T. But, dear mother, do hear me read another.

" We're all in the dumps,

For diamonds are trumps —
The kittens are gone to St. Paul's—

The babies are bit,

The moon's in a fit —
And the houses are built without walls."

M. I do not wish to hear any more.
T. One more ; one more, dear mother !

" Bound about — round about —

Maggoty pie —
My father loves good ale,
And so do I."

Don't you like that, mother ?

M. No ; it is too coarse, and unfit to be read or spoken

T. But it is here in this pretty book you gave me, and I like

316 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

it very much, mother. And here is a poem, which I think
very fine.

" One-ery, two-ery,

Ziccary zan,

Hollow bone, crack a bone —

Ninery ten :

Spittery spat,

It must be done,

Twiddledum, tweddledum,

Twenty-one,

Hink, spink, the puddings stink — "

M. Stop, stop, my son. Are you not ashamed to say such
things ?

T. Ashamed? No, mother. Why should I be? It's all
printed here as plain as day. Ought I to be ashamed to say
any thing that I find in a pretty book you have given me ? Just
hear the rest of this.

" Hink, spink, the puddings — "

M. Give me the book, Timothy. I see that I have made a
mistake ; it is not a proper book for you.

T. Well, you may take the book ; but I can say the rhymes,
for I have learned them all by heart.

" Hink, spink, the puddings — "

M. Timothy, how dare you !

T. Well, mother, I won't say it, if you don't wish me to. But
mayn't I say —

"Higglety, pigglety, pop !"

M. I had rather you would not.

T. And " Doodledy, doodledy, dan" — mayn't I say that ?

M. No.

T. Nor "Hey, diddle, diddle?"

M. I do not wish you to say any of those silly things.

T. Dear me, what shall I do ?

M. I had rather you would learn some good, sensible things.

T. Such as what?

M. Watts's Hymns, and Original Hymns.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 317

T. Do you call them sensible things? I hate 'em.
" Doodledy, doodledy, dan !"

M. [Aside.} Dear, dear, what shall I do? The boy has got
his head turned with these silly rhymes. It was really a very
unwise thing to put a book into his hands, so full of nonsense
and vulgarity. These foolish rhymes stick like burs in his mind,
and the coarsest and vilest seem to be best remembered. I must
remedy this mistake; but I see it will take all my wit to do it.
[Aloud."] Timothy, you must give me up this book, and I will
get you another.

T. Well, mother, I am sorry to part with it ; but I don't care
so much about it, as I know all the best of it by heart.
" Hink, spink, the puddings stink" —

M. Timothy, you'll have a box on the ear, if you repeat that .
T. Well, I suppose I can say,

" Bound about — round about —
Maggoty pie — "

M. You go to bed !

T. Well, if I must, I must. Good-night, mother 1

" Higglety, pigglety, pop !
The dog has eat the mop ;
The cat's in a flurry,
The cow's in a hurry,
Higglety, pigglety, pop 1"

Good-night, mother 1

I trust, my friend, you. will not gather from this that
I condemn rhymes for children. I know that there is
a certain music in them that delights the ear of child
hood. Nor am I insensible to the fact that in Mother
Goose's Melodies, there is frequently a sort of humor
in the odd jingle of sound and sense. There is, fur
thermore, in many of them, an historical significance,
which may please the profound student who puzzles

318 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

it out ; but what I affirm is, that many of these pieces
are coarse, vulgar, offensive, and it is precisely these
portions that are apt to stick to the minds of chil
dren. And besides, if, as is common, such a book
is the first that a child becomes acquainted with,
it is likely to give him a low idea of the purpose and
meaning of books, and to beget a taste for mere
jingles.

With these views, I sought to prepare lessons
which combined the various elements suited to chil
dren — a few of them even including frequent, repeti
tious rhymes — yet at the same time presenting rational
ideas and gentle kindly sentiments. Will you ex
cuse me for giving you one example — my design
being to show you how this may be done, and how
even a very unpromising subject is capable of being
thus made attractive to children.

Oli, gentle stranger, stop,
And hear poor little Hop
Just sing a simple song,
Which is not very long —
Hip, hip, hop.

I am an honest toad,
Living here by the road ;
Beneath a stone I dwell,
In a snug little cell,
Hip, hip, hop.

It may seem a sad lot
To live in such a spot —

HISTORICAL, ANECDOT1CAL, ETC. 319

But what I say is trne —
I have fun as well as you !
Hip, hip, hop.

Just listen to my song —
I sleep all winter long,
But in spring I peep out,
And then I jump about —
Hip, hip, hop.

"When the rain patters down,
I let it wash ray crown,
And now and then I sip
A drop with my lip :
Hip, hip, hop.

"When the bright sun is set,
And the grass with dew is wet,
I sally from my cot,
To see what's to be got,
Hip, hip, hop.

And now I wink my eye,
And now I catch a fly,
And now I take a peep,
And now and then I sleep :
Hip, hip, hop.

And this is all I do —
And yet they say it's true,
That the toady's face is sad,
And his bite is very bad !
Hip, hip, hop.

Oh, naughty folks they be,
That tell such tales of me,
For I'm an honest toad,
Just living by the road :
Hip, hip, hop !

820 LETTP:RS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

These were my ideas in regard to first books — toy
books — those which are put into the hands of chil
dren, to teach them the art of reading. As to books
of amusement and instruction, to follow these, I gave
them Parley's tales of travels, of history, of nature,
and art, together with works designed to cultivate
a love of truth, charity, piety, and virtue, and I
sought to make these so attractive as to displace
the bad books, to which I have already alluded —
the old monstrosities, Puss in Boots, Jack the Giant-
killer, and others of that class.* A principal part

* For what I have said upon these subjects, I refer the reader to vol.
i. page 166. In a recent edition of Jack the Giant-killer, I find his ex
ploits summed up as follows, on the last page : " At his wedding he
went over all the tricks he had played upon the giants ; he showed
the company how one had tumbled into a pit and had his head cut off;
how he had throttled two others with a rope ; how another, the double-
headed Welch monster, had ripped himself open to let the hasty-pud
ding out ; and how he had brought another on his knees by a chop
with his sword of sharpness, and spitted another like a fat fowl," &c.
On the cover of this very book, which, by the way, is one of a series
in the same vein, called HOUSEHOLD STORIES FOR LITTLE FOLKS, I find
the argument in behalf of this class of books for children, thus set forth :

" The extravagance of the stories, the attractive manner of telling
them, the picturesque scenery described, the marvelous deeds related,
the reward of virtue and punishment of vice, upon principles strictly
in accordance with ethical laws, as applied to the formation of char
acter, render them peculiarly adapted to induce children to acquire a love
for reading, and to aid them to cultivate the affections, sympathies, fan
cy, and imagination."

If it had been said that these tales were calculated to familiarize the
mind with things shocking and monstrous ; to cultivate a taste for tales
of bloodshed and violence ; to teach the young to use coarse language,
and cherisli vulgar ideas ; to erase from the young heart tender and
gentle feelings, and substitute for them fierce and bloody thoughts and
sentiments ; to turn the youthful mind from the contemplation of the
real loveliness of nature, and to fill it with the horrors of a debased and
debauched fancy ; to turn the youthful mind from the gentle pleasures

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 321

of my machinery was the character of Peter Parley —
a kind-hearted old man, who had seen much of the
world — and not presuming to undertake to instruct
older people, loved to sit down and tell his stories
to children. Beyond these juvenile works, I pre
pared a graduated series upon the same general plan,
reaching up to books for the adult library ; and thus
I attained one hundred and seventy volumes.

It is true that occasionally I wrote and publishe 1
a book, aside from this, my true vocation ; thus I edit
ed the Token, and published two or three volumes of
poetry. Bat out of all my works, about a hundred
and twenty are professedly juvenile ; and forty are
for my early readers, advanced to maturity. It is
true that I have written openly, avowedly, to attract
and to please children ; yet it has been my design at
the same time to enlarge the circle of knowledge,
to invigorate the understanding, to strengthen the
moral nerve, to purify and exalt the imagination.
Such have been my aims ; how far I have succeeded,
I must leave to the judgment of others. One thing
I may perhaps claim, and that is, my example and
my success have led others — of higher gifts than
my own — to enter the ample and noble field

of home, of love and friendship at the fireside, at the school, in the
playground, and to stretch it upon the rack of horrible dreams of giants,
grinding the bones of children between their teeth, and satisfying their
horrible thirst upon the blood of innocent men and women and infants;
in short, hud it been said that these books were calculated to make crim
inals of a large part of the children who read them, I thiuk the truth
would have been much more fairly stated than in the preceding notice.

U*

322 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

nile instruction by means of books ; many of them
have no doubt surpassed me, and others will still
follow, surpassing them. I look upon the art of wri
ting for children and youth, advanced as it has been
of late years, still as but just begun.

LETTER L.

Journey to the South — Anecdotes — Reception at New Orleans.

MY DEAR C******

If thus I met with opposition, I had also my
success, nay, I must say, my triumphs. My first pa
trons were the children themselves, then the mothers,
and then, of course, the fathers. In the early part of
the year 1846, 1 made a trip from Boston to the South,
returning by the way of the Mississippi and the Ohio.
I received many a kind welcome under the name of
the fictitious hero whom I had made to tell my stories.
Sometimes, it is true, I underwent rather sharp cross-
questioning, and frequently was made to feel that I
held my honors by a rather questionable title. I, who
had undertaken to teach truth, was forced to confess
that fiction lay at the foundation of my scheme ! My
innocent young readers, however, did not suspect me :
they had taken all I had said as positively true, and
1 was of course Peter Parley himself.

" Did you really write that book about Africa ?"

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 323

said a black-eyed, dark-haired girl of some eight years
old, at Mobile.

I replied in the affirmative.

" And did you really get into prison, there ?"

" No ; I was never in Africa."

"Never in Africa?"

" Never."

" Well, then, why did you say you had been there ?"

On another occasion, I think at Savannah, a gen
tleman called upon me, introducing his two grand
children, who were anxious to see Peter Parley. The
girl rushed up to me, and gave me a ringing kiss at
once. We were immediately the best friends in the
world. The boy, on the contrary, held himself aloof,
and ran his eye over me, up and down, from top to
toe. He then walked around, surveying me with the
most scrutinizing gaze. After this, he sat down, and
during the interview, took no further notice of me.
At parting, he gave me a keen look, but said not a
word. The next day the gentleman called and told
me that his grandson, as they were on their way
home, said to him —

" Grandfather, I wouldn't have any thing to do
with that man : he ain't Peter Parley."

" How do you know that ?" said the grandfather.

" Because," said the boy, " he hasn't got his foot
bound up, and he don't walk with a crutch !"*

* The little book entitled "Parley's Method of Telling about Geogra
phy to Children" had a picture, drawn by Tisdale, representing Parley

324: LETTEltd BIOGRAPHICAL,

On my arrival at New Orleans I was kindly re
ceived, and had the honors of a public welcome. The
proceedings were published in the papers at the time,
and I here inclose you a copy of them, which I take
from the Boston Courier of March 21st, 1846. You
will readily perceive the egotism implied in placing
before you such a record as this ; but if I chronicle
my failures and my trials, must I not, as a faithful
scribe, tell you also of my success? If you reply that
I might do it in a more modest way than thus to
spread the whole proceedings before you, I answer,
that in sending you this document, I by no means
require you to read it. If you do read it, you will
have a right to laugh at my vanity : if not, I trust
you will hold your peace.

S. G. GOODRICH AT NEW ORLEANS.

As it may gratify many of our readers, and especially the
friends of Peter Parley, we give in full the proceedings at New
Orleans, which took place on the 28th of February last. The
following is the report as published in the New Orleans Com
mercial Times of March 2d :

COMPLIMENT TO ME. GOODRICH, the author of Parley's Tales. —
Our fellow- citizens are already aware that soon after Mr. Good-
rich's arrival in our city, a large subscription, by our leading
gentlemen, was filled, with a view to give him the compliment
of a public dinner. But Mr. Goodrich's stay being too short

Kitting in a chair, with his lame foot bound up, and a crutch at his side,
while he is saying to the boys around — "Take care, don't touch my
gouty toe ; if you do, I won't tell you any more stories !" Of this work
two millions were sold, and of course Parley and his crutch were pretty
generally associated together, in the minds of children.

HISTOKICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 325

to allow of completing these arrangements, advantage was taken
of the polite offer of Alfred Hennen, Esq., to give him a public
reception at his house, under the auspices of the officers of the
People's Lyceum, and some of our most prominent citizens.
Accordingly, the ceremony took place on Saturday the 28th,
between twelve and three o'clock. During this period there
was assembled an immense crowd of children, mothers, teachers,
and friends of education, eager to give the author of Parley's
Tales a hearty welcome. Among the throng we noticed Mr.
Clay, the Governor and Lieutenant-governor, Mayor, Recorder^
Speaker of the House, and several members of the legislature.
The scene was one of the most cheerful and agreeable we ever
witnessed. While the leading visitors were present, the follow
ing address, in substance, was made by M. M. Cohen, Esq.,
President of the People's Lyceum :

" Mr. Goodrich, or, as we all love to call you, Peter Parley —
The too kind partiality of indulgent friends of yours, has induced
them to select me as their organ to address you on the present
occasion. Their request was this morning conveyed to me on
my way to the Commercial Court, where I have been engaged in
a very dull, dry law case. The judge of that court has been
pleased to allow me a few minutes to run up here and to say
something to you, though what that something is, I have not
yet any very clear perception. I can only hope, sir, that you
have a much more assured knowledge of the reply which you
are about to make to such remarks as I may offer, than I have
at present of what my remarks may be. Yet, though I am
wholly unprepared for the occasion, I should pity the heart that
could remain so cold and callous to every noble emotion, as not
to gather warmth and inspiration from the beaming eyes of
beautiful mothers and the glad faces of happy children, smiling
around us. But, sir, I am here as the representative of others,
and will say to you what 1 presume they would say, if all were
to speak at once.

"Permit me, then, in behalf of these friends and fellow-

326 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

citizens, and what is more, and much better and brighter — in
behalf of 'our better halves' — the ladies, God bless 'em! — to
express the pleasure they derive from your visit to New Orleans,
to welcome you to this hospitable mansion of our enlightened
host, Mr. Hennen, on this the last day of your sojourn in our
city. Let me assure you how glad and grateful they all are ot
this opportunity, which enables them — as is the expression in
some parts of our country — to ' put your face to your name,'
and to say to your face what they have so often said behind
your back. — that they regard you as a blessed benefactor to the
youth of the rising generation, as one who has emphatically
earned the proud and endearing appellation of ' VAmi des En^
fans:

" For, sir, who knows into how many thousand habitations
in the United States Peter Parley's works have found their way,
and made the hearts of the inmates glad, and kept them pure ?
"Who can tell how oft, in the humble cottage of the poor, sorrow
has been soothed and labor lightened, as the fond mother read
to her listening child Peter Parley's Tales, while tears of pity
started in their glistening eyes, or pleasure shook their infant
frames ?

" I have just alluded, sir, to the genial influence of your works
in the United States. The immortal bard of Avon has said —

" ' How far that little candle throws his beams !
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.'

But your name has crossed the Atlantic ; and, in the hope of
instilling into the minds of the youth now present a salutary
proof how far good works will travel, permit me to read to them
the following note, which has just been handed to me :

"NEW ORLEANS, February 28th, 1846.

"DEAR SIR: Having, with much pleasure, this moment understood
that you, as the President of the People's Lyceum, have been requested
to say something to-day to the universal friend of Children, Peter Par
ley, perhaps it would be interesting to you that I should state one or
two anecdotes in reference to the name and fume of that distinguished
character.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 327

" When in London, I rarely ever passed a place where notices are
allowed to be pasted up, without having my eyes gladdened with the
sight of the name of Peter Parley. These announcements were made
to carry gladness to the hearts of children. On such occasions, I often
amused myself by stopping to witness the erfect upon the children as
they passed along in the streets. Such as the following scene was of
frequent occurrence. When they cast their eyes upon these announce
ments it really appeared as though they had been touched by an electric
spark which filled their hearts with joy. They would jump and frisk
about, clap their hands, dance and stamp in front of these big handbills,
and sing out in the perfect fullness of delight, begging their mothers or
nurses to go away to the bookstore and get them the ' new Peter Parley.'
Sometimes I have heard them thus answered : ' Oh no, you can not have
Peter Parley, because you have been a bad little child, and none but
good children are allowed to read Peter Parley.' The child, with tears
glistening in its eyes, would reply: ' Oh, indeed, indeed, ma, if you will
only get me Peter Parley this time, I will never be bad again.' I con
cluded, from what I saw, that all children in that country were taught
to feel that it was a privilege and luxury to read Peter Parley.

" On more than one occasion, when spending a few days among the
delightful cottages of ' our fatherland,' have I witnessed the congrega
tion of children called from the nursery to the drawing-room, when
they would come bounding and shaking their locks, singing out — 'Oh,
mamma, why did you send for us so soon ? we were reading such a pretty
story from Peter Parley !' A new work from Peter Parley was always
welcomed as a species of carnival among children. I thought, here is a
grateful answer to the question once bitterly and tauntingly asked —
' What man in England ever reads an American book?' Availing my
self of the prerogative of my countrymen, I answer by asking — ' What
child is there in England so unfortunate as not to have read Peter
Parley ?'

"A short time after his return from England, Mr. Webster said to me
— ' These are the American names which are better and more universally
known and admired in England than all other American names put to
gether,' and he asked me if I was Yankee enough to 'guess' who they
were. I answered, Washington, and Chief-justice Marshall. 'No,' said
he, ' I mean living persons — and they are Judge Story, and Peter Parley ;
for while the former is known to every lawyer in England, and generally
among the educated classes, the latter lias the entire possession of the
young hearts of old England.' He added that whenever he went into an
English family, and the children were brought in and presented to him
as Mr. Webster, an American gentleman — they would be sure, with
scarcely a single exception, to approach him, and looking him in the face,
with the utmost curiosity, would say — ' L)o you know Peter Parley ?'

"Such facts as these were always delightful to an American when
abroad. It made me feel proud of my country. And while I looked

328 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

upon scenes which must be ever interesting to every right-thinking
American, and acknowledged with gratitude my obligations to the land
of Shakspeare and Milton, of Burke and Junius, I felt that we were fast
compensating that debt by worthy productions from the pure and classic
pens of Irving, Prescott, Bancroft, and Peter Parley.
" Respectfully yours,

" GKEEK B. DUNCAN.
"M. M. COHEN, Pres. People's Lyceum."

" To this note I will only add that, not a moment ago, a gen
tleman from Greece assured me that your works were well
known in his country, and one from England has just declared
that although he learned to-day, for the first time, that Peter
Parley was an American, yet that his books were known and
admired all over Great Britain.

u You came, sir, to New Orleans unheralded, unannounced —
nor military guards, nor glittering arms, nor streaming banners,
nor artillery, accompanied your steps. Neither trumpets'
clangor, nor cannon's roar, nor ear-piercing fife, nor spirit-
stirring drum gave token of your arrival. A plain citizen you
had been in your beautiful brown cottage near Boston —
at once the cradle of liberty and of literature — in slippers and
night-cap, carving out with the pen a better immortality than
military chieftains achieve with the sword ! There, at Jamaica
Plain, you were writing for young misses and masters little
Peter Parley stories, and you all the while little dreaming of
what a great man you were becoming —

" ' Great, not like Caesar, stained with blood —
But only great as you are good.'

" Farewell, sir, and when you leave us, be sure that when
' the curfew tolls the knell of parting day' — or in plainer words,
Mr. Parley, when little boys and girls have had their bread and
milk and are going to bed, and when church-bells ring to Sun
day-school — then will

" ' Infant hands be raised in prayer,

That God may bless you and may spare.'

" Once more, farewell ! May you live long years of happiness,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 329

fts you must of honor ; and when you die, may your ' works,'
in one sense, not ' follow after' yon, but remain on earth, to
profit and delight, and be, like your fame, immortal!"

To which Mr. Goodrich replied as follows :

u Mr. President — It would be idle affectation in me to pretend
that this cheerful spectacle, your kind and flattering words, the
welcome in these faces around, are not a source of the liveliest
gratification to myself personally. Yet, if I were to regard this
occasion as designed merely to bestow upon me a passing com
pliment, on my first visit to the Crescent City, I should feel a
degree of humiliation — for it would force me to consider how
little I have achieved, compared with what remains to be done,
and how disproportioned are these manifestations of regard to
any merits which I can presume to claim. From the moment I
set my foot in New Orleans, I have been greeted by a succession
of agreeable surprises ; and nothing has interested me more than
the enlightened state of public opinion which I find to exist here
in respect to popular education. I am at no loss to discover, in
the hospitality with which I have been greeted, a lively appre
ciation of the great subject to which my humble labors in life
have been directed ; and it adds to my gratification to find this
deeper meaning in the present scene.

" Considering the position of New Orleans, I have looked with
peculiar satisfaction upon your public schools. Some of them
would be deemed excellent in any part of New England — nay,
in Boston itself. Nor is this all; these institutions, as I learn,
are mainly supported by the popular vote — by self-taxation.
This marks a great advance in civilization, and insures, from this
time forward, a constant progress toward perfection. There is
always a sharp contest between light and darkness, bi/hvtvn
ignorance and knowledge, before the mass of society will come
up to the work, and support public instruction at the public
expense. That battle has been fought here, and it has resulted
in the triumph of truth and humanity. There is, if I may be
permitted the allusion, a closer association between Plymouth

330 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Kock and New Orleans than I had imagined. You have here
both faith and icorks. Your schools declare that the wise and
philanthropic social principles of the Pilgrims have taken root
in the midst of a city signalized over the world by the extent and
activity of its commerce.

" Nor is this subject only to bo viewed as it respects New
Orleans itself. If I rightly judge, you have a mission to perform
even beyond this. The Crescent City is indeed the favorite
daughter of the great Father of Waters, into whose lap he
pours his unmeasured harvests. It is the commercial empo
rium of the finest valley on the globe, receiving a tribute which
no one can estimate who has not looked upon your wondrous
levee. Yet it is and is to be, perhaps for centuries to come,
even something more — the metropolis of opinion, of fashion —
giving social law to the millions of to-day, and the millions
which are to follow in the boundless West. If we consider the
ascendency which New Orleans has already acquired, especially
in comparison with the infancy of many of our southwestern
settlements, it is surely not extravagant to regard her influence
and example, in many things, as likely to be little less than de
cisive. We may, therefore, consider the Mississippi under the
image of a mighty tree, whose foot is on the verge of the tropics,
while its tops are playing with the snows of the icy north. New
Orleans stands at the root, and must furnish the sap, at least to
some extent, which circulates through branches that spread over
a surface equal to one-half the extent of Europe, and thus giving
character, for good or ill, to the fruit that may follow. In this
view, your position becomes intensely interesting, and it may
serve to give added impulse to that patr:;otism and philanthropy
which are at work among you.

"As I see around me some of your public functionaries — the
master-minds of the State — and as, moreover, the subject of
public instruction is occupying the attention of the legislature,
assembled under your new constitution, I may be excused for
saying a few words, of a general nature, upon this topic. It

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 331

might sound trite and common-place, if I were to say that edu
cation is the only ladder by which mankind can ascend from
barbarism to civilization, from ignorance to knowledge, from
darkness to light, from earth to heaven. Yet, if this be true,
can public men — rulers and lawgivers — be excused, if they seek
not to furnish this ladder to every individual in the State? And
let them bear in mind that the controlling lessons of life are given
in childhood. Men are hard, and repel instruction. Youth is
plastic, and readily takes the impress of the die that is set upon
it. If a giant should undertake to give symmetry of form to the
aged oak, he might momentarily subdue its gnarled and jagged
branches to his will ; but if they fly not back and strike him in
the face, ere to-morrow's sun every limb and fiber will have
returned to its wonted position. Thus it is that, in dealing with
grown-up, obdurate men, the highest talent exerted for their
good is often baffled, and perhaps repaid by ingratitude or re
proach. On the other hand, how different is it with youth!
Like saplings in the nursery, they readily take the form or char
acter which a kindly hand may bestow. The humble gardener,
only able to carry a watering-pot in one hand and a priming-
knife in the other, may rear up a whole forest of trees, beautiful
in form, and productive of the choicest fruits. What field so
wide, so promising, in every point of view so inviting, so worthy
the attention of the patriot and statesman, as the national nur
sery, budding by millions into life and immortality ?

" I should not be excused, were I to omit saying a few words
to the mothers here present. From the moment that a woman
becomes a mother, we all know that dearer interests than houses
or lands are henceforth invested in the offspring. How hopeful,
how fearful, are her duties now ! Washington and Napoleon,
Howard and Robespierre, were children once, and each upon a
mother's knee. What mighty issues for good or ill are before
the mother, in the possible consequences of the education she
may give her child ! Yet I would not lay upon her heart a
responsibility which might seem too great to bear. The best of

332 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

books, as well as universal experience, are full of encouragement
to the faithful mother. If she performs her duty, God and na
ture take her part. She is the first divinity before which the
budding spirit worships. The lessons which are gathered then,
are likely to exert a controlling influence upon its after destiny.
The child may be compared to a stream, and the parent to the
mother earth over which it flows. She may not, can not stop
its progress, but she may guide its course. She may trace out a
channel in which it will be prone to flow, and after having fer
tilized and blessed its borders, it will find its way in peace to the
great reservoir of waters. If, on the contrary, the mother neg
lect or misguide her offspring, it may, like a torrent, rush on,
and after spreading desolation on every side, disappear in some
sandy desert, or lose itself amid dreary and pestilent marshes.

" And now, one word to my juvenile friends — those who have
received me with such winning smiles — one word to them. I
dare not begin to tell them stories in the character of their old
friend Peter Parley, for I should not know where to leave off.
But let me repeat what I said to those whom I met the other
day — on the celebration of Washington's birthday — come and
see me when you visit Boston ! You will find me in a brown
house, some four miles out of town, in a pleasant village called
Jamaica Plain. Come one and come all, and be assured of a
hearty welcome. And that you may bring some sign that we
have met before, please remember these lines —

"Ne'er till to-morrow's light delay
What rnuy as well be done to-day —
Ne'er do the thing you'd wish undone,
Viewed by to-morrow's rising sun.

" If you will practise according to these verses, you will not
only gratify your old friend who addresses you, but you will win
the world's favor. Farewell!"

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 333

LETTER LI.

Retrospection — Confessions — Tlw mice among my papers — A reckoning
with the past.

MY DEAR C******

In the three preceding letters I have spoken
chiefly of the books I have written for children, and
the true design of which was as much to amuse as
to instruct them. These comprise the entire series
called Parley's Tales, with many others, bearing Par
ley's name. As to works for education — school-
books, including readers, histories, geographies, &c.,
books for popular reading, and a wilderness of prose
and poetry, admitting of no classification — I have
only to refer you to the catalogue already men
tioned. Let me cheer you with the statement that
this is the closing chapter of my literary history. I
have little indeed to say, and that is a confession.

In looking at the long list of my publications, in
reflecting upon the large numbers that have been
sold, I feel far more of humiliation than of triumph.
If I have sometimes taken to heart the soothing flat
teries of the public, it has ever been speedily succeed
ed by the conviction that my life has been, on the
whole, a series of mistakes, and especially in that por
tion of it which has been devoted to authorship. I
have written too much, and have done nothing really

334: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

well. You need not whisper it to the public, at least
until I am gone ; but I know, better than any one
can tell me, that there is nothing in this long cata
logue that will give me a permanent place in liter
ature. A few things may struggle upon the surface
for a time, but — like the last leaves of a tree in au
tumn, forced at last to quit their hold, and cast into
the stream — even these will disappear, and my name
and all I have done will be forgotten.

A recent event, half ludicrous and half melan
choly, has led me into this train of reflection. On
going to Europe in 1851, 1 sent my books and papers
to a friend, to be kept till my return. Among them
was a large box of business documents — letters, ac
counts, receipts, bills paid, notes liquidated — compri
sing the transactions of several years, long since passed
away. Shortly after my return to New York — some
three months ago — in preparing to establish myself
and family here, I caused these things to be sent to
me. On opening the particular box just mentioned,
I found it a complete mass of shavings, shreds, frag
ments. My friend had put it carefully away in the
upper loft of his barn, and there it became converted
into a universal mouse-nest ! The history of whole
generations of the mischievous little rogues was still
visible ; beds, galleries, play-grounds, birth-places,
and even graves, were in a state of excellent preser
vation. Several wasted and shriveled forms of va
rious sizes — the limbs curled up, the eyes extinct, the

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 335

teeth disclosed, the long, slender tails straight and
stiffened — testified to the joys and sorrows of the
races that had flourished here.

On exploring this mass of ruins, I discovered here
and there a file of letters eaten through, the hollow
cavity evidently having been the happy and innocent
cradle of childhood, to these destroyers. Sometimes
I found a bed lined with paid bills, and sometimes
the pathway of a gallery paved with liquidated ac
counts. What a mass of thoughts, of feelings, cares,
anxieties, were thus made the plunder of these
thoughtless creatures! In examining the papers, I
found, for instance, letters from N. P. Willis, written
five and twenty years ago, with only "Dear Sir" at
the beginning and "Yours truly" at the end. I
found epistles of nearly equal antiquity signed N.
Hawthorne, Catharine M. Sedgwick, Maria L. Child,
Lydia H. Sigourney, Willis Gay lord Clark, Grenville
Mellen, William L. Stone, J. G. C. Brainard — some
times only the heart eaten out, and sometimes the
whole body gone.

For all purposes of record, these papers were de
stroyed. I was alone, for my family had not yet
returned from Europe ; it was the beginning of No
vember, and I began to light my fire with these relics.
For two whole days I pored over them, buried in
the reflections which the reading of the fragments
suggested. Absorbed in this dreary occupation, 1
forgot the world without, and was only conscious oi

336 LETTERS —BIOGRAPHICAL,

bygone scenes which came up in review before me.
It was as if I had been in the tomb, and was reckon
ing with the past. How little was there in all that I
was thus called to remember — save of care, and strug
gle, and anxiety ; and how were all the thoughts,
and feelings, and experiences, which seemed moun
tains in their day, leveled down to the merest grains
of dust ! A note of hand — perchance of a thousand
dollars — what a history rose up in recollection as T
looked over its scarcely legible fragments : what
clouds of anxiety had its approaching day of maturity
cast over my mind! How had I been with a trem
bling heart to some bank-president* — he a god, and
I a craven worshiper — making my offering of some
other note for a discount, which might deliver me
from the wrath to come ! With what anxiety have
I watched the lips of the oracle — for my fate was in
his hands ! A simple monosyllable — yes or no —
might save or ruin me. What a history was in that
bit of paper — and yet it was destined only to serve
as stuffing for the beds of vermin ! Such are the ag
onies, the hopes, and fears of the human heart, put
into the crucible of time !

* Let no one say that I speak irreverently of bank-presidents. One
of my best friends during many years of trial was Franklin Haven, pres
ident of the Merchants' Bank at Boston — who found it in his heart,
while administering his office with signal ability and success, to collect
a library, cultivate letters, learn languages, and cherish a respect for
literary men. It must be one among other sources of gratification,
arising from his liberal tastes, that he long enjoyed the confidence and
friendship of Daniel Webster.

HISTOKICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 337

I ought, no doubt, to have smiled at all this — but
I confess it made me serious. Nor was it the most
humiliating part of my reflections. I have been too
familiar with care, conflict, disappointment, to mourn
over them very deeply, now that they were passed ;
the seeming fatuity of such a mass of labors as these
papers indicated, compared with their poor results —
however it might humble, it could not distress me.
But there were many things suggested by these let
ters, all in rags as they were, that caused positive
humiliation. They revived in my mind the vex-
ations, misunderstandings, controversies of other
days; and now, reviewed in the calm light of time, I
could discover the mistakes of judgment, of temper,
of policy, that I had made. I turned back to my
letter-book ; I reviewed my correspondence — and I
came to the conclusion that in almost every difficulty
which had arisen in my path, even if others were
wrong, I was not altogether right: in most cases,
prudence, conciliation, condescension, might have
averted these evils. Thus the thorns which had
wounded me and others too, as it seemed, had gener
ally sprung up from the seeds I had sown, or had
thriven upon the culture my own hands had un
wisely, perhaps unwittingly bestowed.

At first I felt disturbed at the ruin which had been
wrought in these files of papers. Hesitating and
doubtful, I consigned them one by one to the flames,
At last the work was complete ; all had perished, and

VOL. II.— 15

338 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

the feathery ashes had leaped up in the strong draft
of the chimney and disappeared forever. I felt a
relief at last; I smiled at what had happened; I
warmed my chill fingers over the embers ; I felt that
a load was off my shoulders. " At least" — said I in
my heart — " these things are now past ; my reckon
ing is completed, the account is balanced, the respon
sibilities of those bygone days are liquidated. Let me
burden my bosom with them no more !" Alas, how
fallacious my calculation ! A few months only had
passed, when I was called to contend with a formi
dable claim which came up from the midst of trans
actions, to which these extinct papers referred, and
against which they constituted my defence. As it
chanced, I was able to meet and repel it by docu
ments which survived, but the event caused me deep
reflection. I could not but remark that, however we
may seek to cover our lives with forgetful ness, their
records still exist, and these may come up against us
when we have no vouchers to meet the charges which
are thus presented. Who then will be our helper?
" I will think of that— I will think of that I"

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 839

LETTER III.

Speech at St. Allans — Lecture upon Ireland and the Irish — The Broad-
street Riot — Burning the Charlestown Convent — My Political Career^-
A. H. Everett — The Fifteen Gallon Jug — The Harrison Campaign of
1840 — Hard Cider and Log Cabins — Universal Bankruptcy — Election,
of Harrison — His Death — Consequences — Anecdotes — The Stnall Tail
Movement — A Model Candidate — William Cpp, or /Shingling a Barn.

MY DEAK C******

The first public speech I ever made was at St.
Albans, England, in June, 1832, at a grand celebra
tion of the passage of the Reform Bill,* having ac
companied thither Sir Francis Vincent, the represen-

* The Reform Bill was a popular measure, which swept away the
rotten boroughs*, and greatly extended the suffrage. After a long
and violent struggle, it passed the House of Lords on the 4th of June,
1832, and received the royal sanction on the 7th. That day I arrived
in Liverpool, amid a general feeling of joy and exhilaration. The Duke
of Wellington had protested against the bill, though the king, William
IV., and the ministry had favored it ; in consequence, he was insulted
by a rnob, while passing on horseback through one of the streets of
London, June 18th, the anniversary of the battle of WTaterloo. A few
days alter this, there was a military review in Hyde Park, and King
William being present, a large concourse of people assembled ; among
them was the Duke of Wellington. After the review was over, he was
encircled by an immense mass of persons, indignant at the insult he
had received, and desirous of testifying their respect and affection.
Most of them condemned his opposition to the reform bill, but this could
not extinguish or diminish their sense of his great merit. I was pres
ent, and moved on at the side of the old veteran, mounted on horse
back and dressed as a citizen — his hat off, and testifying by his looks,
his sensibility to these spontaneous marks of regard. He was con
ducted to the gate of the park, near his residence — Apsley House, and
there he bade adieu to his shouting escort.

On this occasion, as well as on others, I saw King William IV., a large,

34:0 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

tative in Parliament of that ancient borough. More
than three thousand people, men, women, and chil
dren, gathered from the town and the vicinity, were
feasted at a long table, set out in the principal street
of the place. After this feast there were various
sports, such as donkey races, climbing a greased pole,
and the like. At six o'clock, about one hundred and
fifty of the gentry and leading tradesmen and me
chanics, sat down to a dinner, Sir Francis presiding.
The President of the United States was toasted, and
I was called upon to respond. Entirely taken by sur
prise, for not a word had been said to me upon the
subject, I made a speech. I could never recall what
I said : all I remember is a whirl of thoughts and
emotions as I rose, occasional cries of " hear ! hear !"
as I went on, and a generous clapping of hands as

red-faced man, with an amiable, though not very intellectual expression.
He was, however, very popular, and in contrast to George IV., who was
exceedingly disliked during the latter part of his reign, he was a favor
ite with the people, who gave him the title of the " patriot king."

As I shall have no other opportunity, I may as well complete my gal
lery of British sovereigns, by a brief notice of Queen Victoria, whom I
have often seen. Of her character I have already spoken ; as to her
personal appearance, all the world have a general idea of it, from the
portraits in the shop-windows; but truth compels me to declare that
all the personal beauty in these representations, is ideal.. Her majesty
is really a very ordinary and rather coarse-looking woman — especially
to one whose standard is founded upon the delicate and graceful type
of American female beauty. When I say she is as good as she is home
ly, and is loved and cherished by her people according to her merits, I
give strong testimony to her virtues. Prince Albert is a very handsome
man, and it must be said that the large family of princes and princesses
not only resemble him, strikingly, but share in his personal good looks.
I have seen few more gratifying sights in England than this royal family
— deserving and receiving the affection of the people.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETO. 34:1

I wound off. Whether this last was because I really
made a good hit, or from another principle —

" The best of Graham's speeches was Jiu last" —

I am totally unable to say.

My next public appearance was in a lecture at the
Tremont Temple, in Boston — my subject beinglreland
and the Irish. Although my discourse was written,
and pretty well committed to memory, yet for several
days before the time appointed for its delivery ar
rived — when I thought of my engagement, my heart
rolled over with a heavy and sinking sensation.
When the hour came, I went to the door of the room,
but on seeing the throng of persons collected, I felt
that my senses were deserting me : turning on my
heel, I went out, and going to Smith, the apothecary
— fortified myself with some peppermint lozenges.
When I got back, the house was waiting with impa
tience. I was immediately introduced to the audi
ence by Dr. Walter Channing, and stepping upon the
platform, began. After the first sentence, I was per
fectly at my ease. I need only add that I repeated
the same lecture more than forty times.*

* About this time there was a strong popular excitement in Boston
and the vicinity against the Irish, and especially the Roman Catholic
religion. It manifested itself in what was called the "Broad-street
Riot" — June 11, 1839 — in which the Irish, who gathered in that quar
ter, were attacked, their houses rifled, their beds ripped open, ami the
furniture destroyed to the amount of two thousand dollars ; and also
in burning down the Catholic Female Seminary — a species of Convent,
where it was said there were evil doings — in the adjacent town of
Charlestowu. My purpose was to allay this excitement by presenting

342 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

In the autumn of 1836 there was a large evening

party at Jamaica Plain, at the house of Mrs. G ,

the lady patroness of the village. Among the nota
bles present was Daniel Webster, whom I had fre
quently seen, but to whom I was now introduced for
the first time. He spoke to me of many things, and
at last of politics, suggesting that the impending pres
idential election involved most important questions,
and he deemed it the duty of every man to reflect
upon the subject, and to exert his influence as his
conscience might dictate.

Since my residence in Massachusetts, a period of
nearly eight years, I had been engrossed in my busi
ness, and had never even cast a vote. Just at this
time I was appointed, without any suggestion of my
own, one of the delegates to the whig convention to
nominate a person to represent us — the Ninth Con
gressional District — in Congress. This was to take
place at Medway, at the upper end of the district. I
went accordingly, and on the first ballot, was the
highest candidate, save one — Mr. Hastings, of Men-
don. I declined of course, and he was unanimously
nominated.

The canvass that ensued was a very animated one,

the history of the Irish people, with the adversities they had suffered,
and the many amiable and agreeable traits that had survived, amid all
the causes which had operated to degrade them. I believe that my ef
forts were not wholly fruitless : the lecture was encouraged, and when
printed, received a commendatory notice even from the North Ameri
can Review — written by T. C. Grattan, himself an Irishman.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 343

Mr. Van Buren being the democratic candidate for
the presidency. He was considered as the heir-
apparent of the policy of Gen. Jackson, and had in
deed promised, if elected, to walk in the footsteps of
his illustrious predecessor. Without the personal
popularity of that remarkable man, he became the
target for all the hostility which his measures had
excited. He was, however, elected, but to be over
whelmed with a whirlwind of discontent and oppo
sition four years after.

The candidate for Congress in our district in oppo
sition to Mr. Hastings, was Alexander H. Everett,
who had been hitherto a conspicuous whig, and who
had signalized himself by the ability and the bitter
ness of his attacks on Gen. Jackson and his admin
istration. He had singled out Mr. Yan Buren for
especial vehemence of reproach, because, being Secre
tary of State at the time, Mr. Everett was superseded
as Minister to Spain without the customary courtesy
of an official note advising him of the appointment of
his successor. To the amazement of the public in gen
eral and his friends in particular, on the 8th January,
1836, Mr. Everett delivered an oration before the de
mocracy of Salem, in which — ignoring the most prom
inent portion of his political life — he came out with
the warmest eulogies upon Gen. Jackson and his ad
ministration ! About the first of May, the precise
period when it was necessary, in order to render him
disable to Congress in the Ninth District, he took up

344: LETTEKS BIOGRAPHICAL,

his residence within its precincts, and, as was easily
foreseen, was the democratic candidate for Congress.

The whig district committee, of which I was one,
and Charles Bowen, Mr. Everett's publisher, anoth
er — issued a pamphlet, collating and contrasting
Mr. Everett's two opinions of General Jackson's
policy, and especially of Mr. Van Buren — the one
flatly contradicting the other, and, in point of date,
being but two or three years apart. This was cir
culated over the towns of the district. It was a ter
rible document, and Mr. Everett felt its force. One
of them was left at his own door in the general dis
tribution. This he took as a personal insult, and
meeting Bowen, knocked him over the head with his
"umbrella. Bowen clutched him by the throat, and
would have strangled him but for the timely interfe
rence of a bystander.

I had been among Mr. Everett's personal friends,
but he now made me the object of special attack.
A paper, then conducted by B. F. H . . . ., circu
lated a good deal in the district, and here, under the
name of Peter Parley, I was severely lashed, not
because I was a candidate for office, but because I
was chairman of the whig district committee. I rec
ollect that one day some rather scandalous thing came
out against me in the editorial columns of this journal,
and feeling very indignant, I went to see the editor.
I did not know him personally, but from occasionally
reading his paper, I had got the idea that he was a

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 34:5

very monster of violence and vandalism. He was
not at the office, but such was m}^ irritation and im
patience that I went to his house. I rang, and a
beautiful black-eyed girl, some eight years old, came
to the door. I asked if Mr. H. was in ? " Mother,"
said the child, in a voice of silver, " is father at
home ?" At this moment another child, and still
younger — its bullet-pate all over curls — came to the
door. Then a mild and handsome woman came, and
to my inquiry she said that her husband was out,
but would return in a few moments.

My rage was quelled in an instant. " So," said I
to myself, " these children call that man father, and
this woman calls him husband. After all, he can not
be such a monster as I have conceived him — with
such a home." I turned on my heel and went away,
my ill-humor having totally subsided. Some two
years after, I told this anecdote to Mr. H., and we
had a good-humored laugh over it. Both of us had
learned to discriminate between political controversy
and personal animosity.

The attacks made upon me during this canvass had
an effect different from what was intended. I was
compelled to take an active part in the election, and
deeming the success of my party essential to my own
defense, I naturally made more vigorous efforts for that
object. Mr. Everett was largely defeated, and the whig
candidate as largely triumphed. At the same time I
was chosen a member of the legislature for E-oxbury

15*

34:6 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

— Jamaica Plain, where I resided, being a parish oi
that town. The next year I was a candidate for the
senate, in competition with Mr. Everett,* and was
elected. In this manner I was forced into politics, and
was indebted mainly to opposition for my success.

During the ensuing session of the legislature, the
winter of 1837-8, the famous " Fifteen Gallon Law"
was passed — that is, a law prohibiting the sale of in
toxicating liquors in less quantities than fifteen gal
lons. The county I represented was largely in favor
of the measure, and I voted for it, though I was by
no means insensible to the agitation it was certain to
produce. I had determined not to be a candidate for

* Alexander H. Everett was a native of Massachusetts, and a younger
brother of Edward Everett, born in 1790. He studied law in the office
of John Quincy Adams at Boston, and in 1809 he accompanied him as
attache in his mission to Russia. Mr. Everett's political career clearly
displays the influence of this early connection with Mr. Adams. Hav
ing remained at St. Petersburg two years, he returned to the United
States by way of England, where he spent some months. He now took
part with the democrats, and wrote against the Hartford Convention and
in favor of the war. Soon after the peace he was appointed secretary
of legation to Governor Eustis, in his mission to the Netherlands.
Herd he continued several years, the latter part of the time as charge.
On visiting Brussels in 1824, I called upon him, and was agreeably im
pressed by his fine person and dignified, though cold and distant, man
ners. In 1825, he was appointed by his former patron, then President
of the United States, Minister to Spain, where he remained till he was
dismissed by Gen. Jackson. Mr. Everett, having failed of success in
his attempts to obtain office from the people of Massachusetts, was em
ployed by the general government, first as Commissioner to Cuba, and
afterward to China. He died a few months subsequent to his arrival at
Canton — that is, in June, 1847. In literature, he held a respectable posi
tion, having written several works of learning and ability, and some
essays of great elegance. In politics, unfortunately, he followed the ex
ample of Mr. Adams, in a sudden and startling change of his party, under
circumstances which injured his character and impaired his usefulness.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 347

re-election, and therefore considered myself free to
engage in the discussion which preceded the next
election, and which, of course, mainly turned upon
this law. Among other things, I wrote a little pam
phlet, entitled " Five Letters to my Neighbor Smith,
touching the Fifteen Gallon Jug" — the main design of
which was to persuade the people of Massachusetts
to make the experiment, and see whether such a re
straint upon the sale of intoxicating drinks would
not be beneficial. This was published anonymously,
and my intention was to have the authorship remain
unknown. It, however, had an enormous sale — a
hundred thousand copies — in the course of a few
months, and curiosity soon guessed me out.

Now in the village of Jamaica Plain, I had a neigh
bor, though not by the name of Smith — a rich liquor
dealer, who did his business in Boston — a very re
spectable man, but a vehement opposer of the Fifteen
Gallon Law. As the election approached, the citi
zens of the State were drawn out in two camps, the
men of Israel — those in favor of prohibition — on one
side, and the Philistines — the men in favor of free
liquor — on the other. My neighbor was rather the
Goliath of his party — six cubits and a span, and all
helrneted in brass — by which I mean that he was the
wealthiest, the most respectable, and the most valiant
of all the soldiers of the Philistine camp ! He insist
ed that by " My Neighbor Smith," I meant him, and
though I had said nothing disagreeable of that per-

34:8 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

son age, but, on the contrary, had drawn his portrait
in very amiable colors, he held that it was a mali
cious personal attack. In vain did I deny the charge,
and point to the fact that the residence, character,
qualities of my fictitious hero, were inapplicable to
him. Anxious, like Mawworm, to be persecuted,
he insisted upon it that he was persecuted.

At the county convention, which took place some
two months prior to this election, I declined being a
candidate. The members present, however, clearly
discerning the gathering storm, refused to release me,
and I was forced to accept the nomination. The
election was to take place on Monday, in November.
On the Saturday previous, there was issued in Boston
a pamphlet, entitled the " Cracked Jug," a personal
and political attack upon me , written with great mal
ice and some ability. It was scattered like snow-
flakes all over the county, and was, I suspect, the
Sunday reading of all the tipplers and taverners of
the county. The bar-room critics esteemed it supe
rior to any thing which had appeared since the letters
of Junius, and of course considered me as annihilated.

On Monday, election-day, my family were insulted
in the streets of Jamaica Plain, and as I went into
the town-hall to cast my vote, I heard abundance of
gibes cast at me from beneath lowering beavers. The
result was that there was no choice of senators in
the county. The election, when the people had thus
failed to fill their places, fell upon the legislature, and

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC.

I tvas chosen. The storm gradually passed away.
The fifteen gallon law was repealed, but it nearly
overturned the whig party in the State, which, being
in the majority, was made responsible for it.* I
deemed it necessary to reply to my Neighbor Smith's
Cracked Jug, and he rejoined. What seemed at the
time a deadly personal struggle, was ere long forgot
ten — neither party, I believe, carrying, in his charac
ter or his feelings, any of the scars inflicted during
the battle. Both had in some sort triumphed — both

* In this election, Edward Everett, who had been governor of the
State since 1835, and had administered the government with great suc
cess, was defeated by a single vote, Marcus Morton, a judge of the Su
preme Court, and who had been the standing democratic candidate for
many years without any seeming prospect of success, being chosen in
his place. It is an interesting fact that such is the respect for the bal
lot, that among a hundred thousand votes, a majority of one was sub
mitted to without question or opposition. A good anecdote is connect
ed with this incident. Governor Morton with his party had opposed the
encouragement of railroads by the use of the State credit. Nevertheless,
while he was governor, the branch railroad, running through his own
town, Taunton, to the thriving and enterprising town of New Bed
ford, was completed. This event was to be celebrated by a jubilee at the
latter place, and the governor was invited to be present. The ceremonies
were to commence at twelve o'clock, but at that hour his excellency
had not arrived. The whole proceedings were delayed and embar
rassed, until just as the clock was striking one, the governor ap
peared. J. H. Clifford, the witty and eloquent State's attorney, so
universally known for his admirable management of the trial of Dr.
Webster, the murderer of Parkman, and afterward himself governor of
the State, immediately rose and offered the following sentiment —

Governor Morton, who always gets in. by one I

It is needless to say that the sentiment, as well as the governor, was
hailed with acclamation ; and it may be stated incidentally, that, inas
much as a railroad had passed through the governor's own town, lie,
and I may add his party, thenceforward were .ulvoc-utes of railroads.
The next year (1840), in the whirlwind of the Harrison campaign, Gov
ernor Morton gave place to " honest John Davis," a nume known and
honored throughout the whole United States.

350 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

in some sort been beaten — both could, therefore, afford
to return to the amicable relations of village neigh
borhood.

The presidential canvass of 1840 presented the
most remarkable political spectacle which has ever
been witnessed in the United States. Gen. Jackson's
measures in regard to the currency and the tariff re
sulted in a tempest, which was precipitated upon the
administration of his successor — Mr. Yan Buren.
Bankruptcy* and ruin had swept over the country, in
volving alike the rich and the poor, in their avalanche
of miseries. In the autumn of this year, the whigs nom
inated William Henry Harrison, as the candidate for
the presidency, in opposition to Mr. Yan Buren. He

* The bankruptcies that took place in Boston from November 1, 1836,
to May 12, 1837, were one hundred and sixty-eight — some of very large
amount. About the same time, the crash in New York was terrific,
bearing down many of the oldest and wealthiest houses in the city. In
New Orleans, in May, 1837, the failures in two days, amounted to twen
ty-seven millions of dollars. A committee of New York, addressing
the President, stated that the depreciation of real estate in that city was
forty millions of dollars in six months ! They also stated that two hun
dred and fifty failures took place in the space of two months ; that the
depreciation of local stocks was twenty millions, and the fall of mer
chandise thirty per cent, within the same period. Twenty thousand
persons, dependent upon their labor, were said to be thrown out of em
ployment, at the same time. The committee added, "the error of our
rulers has produced a wider desolation than the pestilence which de
populated our streets, or the conflagration which laid them in ashes."
Similar ruin visited every part of the Union — the people, corporations,
States, being reduced to bankruptcy. It was estimated that half n mil
lion of persons were made bankrupt by reason of the various meas
ures of the Jackson and Van Buren administrations. Hundreds and
thousands of persons, destitute of employment, arid almost destitute
of bread, found relief in swelling the Harrison processions and gather
ings, in singing patriotic songs, and shouting for reform.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 351

had held various civil and military trusts, in which
he had displayed courage, wisdom, and patriotism.
His personal character was eminently winning to the
people, being marked with benevolence and simpli
city. He had long retired from public life, and for
several years had lived as a farmer on the " North
Bend" of the Ohio, near Cincinnati. The democrats
ridiculed him as drinking hard cider and living in a
log cabin. The masses, resenting this as coming from
those who — having the government spoils — were riot
ing in the White House on champagne, took these
gibes, and displayed them as their mottoes and sym
bols upon their banners. They gathered in barns, as
was meet for the friends of the farmer of North Bend,
using songs and speeches as flails, threshing his ene
mies with a will. The spirit spread over mountain and
valley, and in every part of the country, men were
seen leaving their customary employments to assem
ble in multitudinous conventions. Many of these
gatherings numbered twenty thousand persons.

During this animated canvass, I was not a candi
date for office, yet I took part in the great movement,
and made about a hundred speeches in Massachusetts
and Connecticut. Everybody, then, could make a
speech,* and everybody could sing a song. Orators

* A speech maker, in the western part of the State of Virginia
during the canvass, has given us the following anecdote. He was hold
ing forth upon the merits of Gen. Harrison, and especially upon his
courage, tact, and success as a military commander. While in the midst
of his discourse, a tall, gaunt mau — who was probably a schoolmaster in

352 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

sprang up like mushrooms, and the gift of tongues
was not more universal than the gift of music.
Towns, cities, and villages, were enlivened with
torch-light processions and with long, bannered phal
anxes, shouting for the hero of Tippecanoe ! The
result of the election was such as might have been
anticipated — a most emphatic rebuke by the people
of that policy which had spread disaster and ruin
over the country — by the election of Harrison, giving
him two hundred and thirty-four votes, leaving only
sixty for Van Buren ! The death of Harrison, how
ever, which took place thirty days after he had en-

those parts — arose from the crowd, and said, in a voice which penetrated
the whole assembly —

"Mister — Mister! I want to ax you a question." To this the orator
assented, and the man went on as follows :

" We are told, fellow-citizens, that Gineral Harrison is a mighty great
gineral ; but I say he's one of the very meanest sort of ginerals. We
are told here to-night, that lie defended himself bravely at Fort Meigs ;
but I tell you that on that occasion he was guilty of the Small Tail
Movement, and I challenge the orator here present to deny it !"

The speaker declared his utter ignorance of what the intruder meant
by " Small Tail Movement."

" I'll tell you," said the man ; " I've got it here in black and white
Here is Grimshaw's History of the United States" — holding up the book
— " and I'll read what it says : ' At this critical moment, Gen. Harrison
executed a novel movement !' Does the gentleman deny that?"

" No : go on."

" Well, he executed a novel movement. Now, here's Johnson's dic
tionary" — taking the book out of his pocket and holding it up — " and
here it says : ' NOVEL— a small tale /' Arid this was the kind of movement
Gen. Harrison was guihy of. Now, I'm no soger, and don't know much
of milentary tictacks — but this I do say: a man who, in the face of an
enemy, is guilty of a Small Tail Movement, is not fit to be President of
the United States, and he shan't have my vote !"

The relntor of the nnecdotc says that it was quite impossible for him
to overcome the eft'ect of this speech, and we are left to conclude that
the vote of that vicinity was given to Van B»:r»n.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 353

tered upon the duties of his office, with consequent
divisions among the leading members of the whig
party at Washington, deprived the country of nearly
the whole benefit due to a change so emphatically
pronounced by the voice of the people.

From this period, I have taken no active part
in politics. In reviewing the past — while duly ap
preciating the honor conferred by the confidence
bestowed upon me by the citizens who gave me their
suffrages, I still regard my political career as an un
profitable, nay, an unhappy episode, alien to my lit
erary position and pursuits, and every way injurious
to my interests and my peace of mind. It gave me
painful glimpses into the littleness, the selfishness, the
utter charlatanism* of a large portion of those poli
ticians who lead, or seem to lead, the van of parties ;
and who, pretending to be guided by patriotism, are

* For example : while I was in the Senate, and the Fifteen Gallon
prohibitory law was under discussion, many people came into the lobby
to listen to the debates, which excited great interest. Among these was
a very respectable man from my own county of Norfolk. He asked me
how I was going to vote. I replied that I had hardly made up my mind,
and asked his opinion as to what I ought to do. He strongly enjoined
it upon me to vote for the measure, saying that the public mind gener
ally was prepared for it, and that in our county, especially, the sentiment
in favor of it was overwhelming. And yet, at the next election this very
man was a candidate against me, on the ground that he was in favor of
the repeal of the law. He insisted that it was an extreme measure ; and
although he was a temperance man — God forbid that he should be any
tiling else — he still thought it would do harm to the good cause ! Th'-n:-
fore he contended for its repeal, and the substitution of some milder
course ! This man was a type of a very numerous cla&s, whose princi
ples fluctuate with the tide of public opinion, and the chances which
arise for riding into office.

354 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

usually only riding issues, principles, platforms, as ser
vile hobbies which may carry them into office. As
some compensation for this, it has also led me to a
conviction that the great mass of the people are gov
erned by patriotic motives — though even with these
I often noted curious instances in which the public
interests were forgotten in a desire to achieve some
selfish or sinister end.*

* About these days, in a certain town not far from Boston, there was
a large family, of several generations, by the name of Cpp. At one of
the elections for members to represent the place in the General Court, it
appeared that among the votes distributed at the polls were a large
number for William Cpp, and the whole family were present, like
swarming bees, actively engaged in promoting his election. One of
them came up to the person who told me the story, and asked him to
vote for William. He naturally desired to know the reason for such a
measure, and the more particularly as he had never heard of any pecu
liar claims or qualifications, for the office in question, which the said
William possessed. "Well," said the Cpp, "I'll tell you how 'tis.
William's got a little behindhand, and wants to shingle his barn. This
will cost about a hundred dollars. Now, if he can go to the General
Court one session, he'll save a hundred dollars, arid so, you see, he can
shingle his barn 1" I have seen a good deal of this barn-shingling, even
in New England.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 355

LETTER LIII.

International copyright — Mr. Dickens' 's Mission — His failure and his re
venge — The Boston Convention — Inquiry into the basis of copyright —
Founded in absolute justice — What is property? — Grounds -upon which
government protects property — History of copyright — Present state of
copyright law — Policy the basis of local copyright law — International
Copyright demanded by justice — Scheme for International Copyright
with Great Britain — JReasonsfor it.

MY DEAR C******

In the winter of 1842, Mr. Charles Dickens ar
rived in Boston, where he was received with open
arms. A complimentary dinner* was got up for him,
and fine speeches were made by many of the first
citizens, all in a strain of welcome to the distin
guished stranger. The ball thus set in motion rolled
over the country, and wherever Mr. Dickens went, he
was received in a similar manner — that is, with wel
come, with feasting, with compliments. I remember

* Tliis dinner took place on the 1st of February, 1842. It was deemed
a matter of sufficient importance to have the whole proceedings —
speeches, letters, and toasts — reported, and published in a book. In
the light of the present day, many of these — though sparkling with wit
and good feeling— are rather calculated to make us regret the whole
occasion. The strain of compliment was excessive ; it set an example
which, in this respect, was copied elsewhere — and the object of all this
blunt adulation, as we now know, laughed at it in his sleeve at the
time, and openly afterward, when he had got safe back to England.
This should be a lesson to us for all future time. Foreigners will judge
us somewhat according to their own standard. They regard all exces
sive demonstrations of the kind here alluded to as proceeding either
from snobbery, or a desire to exhibit themselves, on the part of the
leaders. They are, therefore, rather disgusted than conciliated by these
overdone attentions.

356 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

to have seen him at one of the President's levees at
Washington, there being many distinguished guests
present — Washington Irving, the Earl of Carlisle, &c.
These were totally neglected, while a crowd of curi
ous and admiring followers, forming a gorgeous train
of fair women and brave men, glittered behind Mr.
and Mrs. Dickens. They were, in truth, the observed
of all observers.

It appeared in the sequel, that the author of Pick
wick had crossed the Atlantic for a double purpose —
to write a book, and to obtain international copy
right. In the first he succeeded, in the latter he
failed. Since that time, however, the subject of in
ternational copyright has been a theme of animated
discussion in this country, and has even been made
a matter of diplomatic conference between Great
Britain and the United States. A treaty has been,
I believe, actually agreed upon between the agents of
the two governments, for the purpose of establishing
international copyright, but it has never been con
summated ; the subject was referred to the Senate,
and there it has remained in suspense for the last
two years.

You will, no doubt, expect me, in giving my rec
ollections, to say something upon this subject. I
cou^l, indeed, hardly pass it over. I beg, however,
instead of writing a new essay upon the subject,
to copy what I wrote about three years ago, at
the request of a senator in Congress, but which was

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 357

never forwarded. With slight modifications, it was
as follows :

INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT is altogether a modern idea. The
conception appears to have been formed, or at least matured,
about twenty years ago, when the subject of a revision of the
law of copyright was before the British Parliament.* At that

* The first English parliamentary statute in regard to copyright, is
that of Queen Anne, A. D. 1710, giving copyright to the author for
twenty-one years, and if he be living at the expiration of this time, for
the residue of his life. By subsequent acts, this period was extended to
twenty-eight years. The movement above alluded to, which commenced
in 1837, and in which Talfourd took a leading part, aimed at extending
the protection to forty-two years, which, after about two years of consid
eration, became and remains the law of Great Britain on this subject. If
the author shall have died before the expiration of the forty-two years,
the heirs may have an extension of the time for seven years from the
date of his death.

During the discussion which ensued, the subject of copyright was
viewed in every possible light. A large number of petitions was pre
sented to Parliament in behalf of increased protection ; among them was
one from Thomas Hood, in which the following passages occur:

" That your petitioner is the proprietor of certain copyrights, which
the law treats as copyhold, but which in justice and equity should be
bis freehold. He cannot conceive how ' Hood's Own,' without a change
in the title-deed as well as the title, can become ' Everybody's Own1
hereafter.

"That cheap bread is as desirable and necessary as cheap books, but
it hath not yet been thought just or expedient to ordain that after a
certain number of crops, all cornfields shall become public property.

" That as a man's hairs belong to his head, so his head should belong
to his heir # ; whereas, on the contrary, your petitioner hath ascertained,
by a nice calculation, that one of his principal copyrights will expire on
the same day that his only son should come of age. The very law of
nature protests against an unnatural law, which compels an author to
write for everybody's posterity except his own."

Among these petitions is one from John Smith, bookseller of Glasgow,
who says that about the year 1820, he wrote an essay in behalf of per
petual copyright, as demanded by justice and equity. 1 have seen no
assertion of this principle prior to this date.

The earliest direct advocacy of international copyright that I have met
with, is by John Neal, in the " Yankee," 1828.

period, the leading authors of Great Britain combined to obtain
an extension of the privileges of authorship. In the course of
the discussion, it was suggested that authors had an absolute
right to the use and behoof of the products of their labor — and
consequently that British authors might claim copyright, not
only in Great Britain, but in all other countries Having ob
served that the American market absorbed a \ery larg<. amount
of popular English literature, an eager desire sprang up among
the principal British writers to annex the United States to Great
Britain in this matter of copyright. Accordingly, a general act
was passed by Parliament, to the effect that the privileges of the
copyright laws in the Three Kingdoms should be granted to all
countries which should extend to Great Britain the privileges of
their copyright laws. In this state of things, Mr. Dickens came
to America to consummate an international arrangement on
this subject. His writings being exceedingly popular here, it
was deemed that we could hardly resist a demand, regarded as
reasonable in itself, and urged by a universal favorite, who might
add to the requisitions of justice the argument and the feeling of
personal gratitude to himself.

As you are aware, Mr. Dickens's mission proved abortive, and
he took his revenge upon us by his Notes on America, in which
he plucked out the feathers of the American Eagle, and then
called it a very unclean bird. It is quite as easy to explain his
failure as his anger. The demand of International Copyright
was suddenly made and rudely enforced. Mr. Dickens brought
with him letters and petitions to individuals, to Congress, and to
the American people — from eminent British authors, some of
them couched in offensive terms, and demanding copyright on
the principle of absolute justice. In order to carry the point at a
blow, the whole British press burst upon us with the cry of thief,
robber, pirate, because we did precisely what was then and had
been done everywhere — we reprinted books not protected by
copyright ! We resemble our ancestors, and do not like to be
bullied. The first effect, therefore, of this demand thus urged,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 359

•was resentment ;* to this, reflection added apprehension. About
this time there was a Convention in Boston of persons interested
in the production of books : booksellers, printers, paper-makersv
type-founders, book-binders, and others connected with the book
manufacture. Their chief object was to petition Congress for a
modification of the tariff — a reconstruction of the entire tariff
system being then under consideration — so as to afford addi
tional protection to their various interests ; but, alarmed at
the demand of the British authors, they took the occasion to
remonstrate, earnestly, against this proposed international
compact.

Discussion of course followed, and has been continued to the
present time. Authors in the United States have generally
favored the measure ; booksellers and publishers resisted it for a
time, but many of them now favor it. The manufacturing in
terests connected with the book-trade have generally opposed it.

* Various circumstances conspired to aggravate this feeling, Mr.
Carlyle compared our reprinting British books, without copyright, to
Rob Roy's cattle-stealing; while at the same time British publishers
had done and continued to do the same thing in respect to American
books. The British government had indeed offered to go into a mutual
interchange of copyright law, but in the mean time their publishers
went on reprinting American works, without compensation, as before.
Their position, therefore, was only this : they would stop thieving ivhen we
would ; and the condition of their giving vp what tltey Jteld to be piracy, was
a bargain in which they would get a thousand pounds, where we should ob
tain perhaps a hundred ! And still again: one of the last acts of Mr.
Dickens, before he left England on his mission, was the reproduction
in his "Pic-nic Papers" of the Charcoal Sketches of Joseph C. Neale, of
Philadelphia, not only without copyright, but concealing the name of
the author, and merely saying that "it was from an American source"
— leaving the impression that it was originally written for his book ! In
addition to all this, reflecting men saw that this claim of international
copyright was chiefly based on principles of absolute and universal
right, which were repudiated, not only by the local copyright law of
Great Britain, but that of all other civilized countries. These were hin
drances to the immediate passage of any international copyright in this
country, because they created a prejudice against it as well as fear of it/i
consequences. But these difficulties are now past, and it iu time to con
sider the subject in a calmer and wiser spirit.

360 LETTERS BIOGK APHIC AX,

So far as the people at large are concerned, I believe that a great
majority also take an unfavorable view of the scheme.

Now, where is the right of this question ? What ought we
to do ? What ought our government to do ?

If, as has been and is asserted, the abstract right of the author
to the fruit of his labor is absolute, and if governments recognize
the obligation to protect all abstract rights, then the question is
settled: justice, morality, conscience, and usage require us to
give what is asked. In this state of the case, we have no right
to consider what is convenient or expedient; we must yield,
whatever may be the coacequence, to a claim which rests upon
such foundations.

Let us then inquire, first, is this abstract claim of absolute
right, on the part of authors, well founded ; and, second, do
governments recognize the obligation to protect and enforce alj
such abstract rights ?

It is indisputable that the author has just as good, and in fact
the same right, to the use and behoof of the fruit of his labor,
as the farmer and the mechanic. In general, it may be said,
that what a man makes is his, and that if it is valuable to him
and useful to the community, he is entitled to protection in the
possession of it. The farmer produces corn, the cabinet-maker
a chair, the wheelwright a cart. The right of the producers of
these things to use them, sell them, to control them, absolutely,
according to their will and pleasure, is so familiar to the mind
as to seem self-evident.

The author asks to be put upon the same footing. He writes
a book ; in its first stage it is in manuscript. To this his claim
is undeniable; but it is a barren right, for in this condition
it is unproductive of value. It consists of material signs —
letters, words, sentences — conveying ideas. It is susceptible of
being copied arid multiplied by print, and these copies can be
sold, and a reward for the author's labor may be thus realized.
The value of the author's work, therefore — that, is, the means of
obtaining compensation for his labor — lies in selling copies of it ;

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 361

and what he claims is the right, and the exclusive right, thus to
copy his book — or, in other words, copyright. The commodity
of the author, as well as the method of recompense, are different
from those of the farmer, but his claim to the fruit of his labor
rests on the same principle. The farmer's commodity is his corn,,
and he claims the right to control it; the author's commodity is
copyright, and he claims the right to control it. The farmer's
property is corporeal, the author's, incorporeal ; but the right
to the one is the same as that to the other. No ingenuity
has been able to show any distinction whatever between the
principle on which the author's copyright is founded, and that
on which the farmer's right to his crop is founded.*

* Various suggestions have been urged against this ; it lias been said
that the author's right consists of two things — his manuscript and his
ideas ; the one material, the other incorporeal. His claim to the first is
valid, and remains with him, but he parts witli the other by publication.
This objection is fully answered by a suggestion already made, that it
is only by the power to control the copying of his work, that an author
can obtain compensation for his labor.

Another suggestion has been made by Mr. II. C. Carey, to this effect,
that a book consists of two parts — facts and ideas, which he culls the
body, and the language, which he considers the clothing. Now, he
eays, fucts and ideas are old, and have become common property ; they
are like a public fountain — common to all — and for this portion of his
work the author can claim no reward : all he can ask compensation for
is the language in which he has clothed these facts and ideas.

Now there are two objections to this : one is as to the fact on which this
theory is founded, and the other in respect to the inferences drawn from
it. Mr. Carey has written some clever works on Political Economy ; he
may say that there is nothing new in these, and that his only merit lies
in having put old ideas into new language, but the public will not agree
with him in this. The public will not agree that there is nothing new
in the facts and ideas of the histories of I'rescott, Bancroft, and Ma-
caulav; in the romances of Cooper and Scott; in the poetry of Words
worth and Byron ; in the delightful travels of Bayard Taylor, and the
inspired song of Hiawatha. Indeed, there has probably been no age
of the world, in which literature has been so highly original, in its
facts and ideas, as during this particular portion of time, \\men Mr.
Carey corridors as wholly barren and unproduetive of thought.

His inferenci's seem as ill<><rieal as his premises are unsound. If union
makes salt from the sea, which is a common reservoir, is 'h»t a reason

VOL. II.- 16

362 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

This is clear, but now comes the other question, does govern
ment hold itself bound to secure every abstract right ? In gen
eral, it may be said that civilized governments protect property :
to do this is in fact one of the chief functions of government
What, then, is property?

In looking at learned authorities, we find two distinct defini
tions : one regards property as a certain inherent, abstract right ;
the other — the legal interpretation — a possession secured by law.
This is, in fact, the general notion of property : it is ownership
— the right to possess, enjoy, and control a thing, according to
law. It has been asserted that property, even in this sense,
rests upon an abstract right, and that the principle of this is,
that what a man produces is his own. And yet, when we come
to look at property, as it is distributed around us, we shall see
that by far the larger portion of it, throughout the world, is not
in the hands of the producers.* The present distribution of land,
in all countries, has been made to a great extent by violence,
by conquest, usurpation, robbery. The foundations of the great
estates throughout Europe, is that of might and not of right.
And hence it is impossible to base the idea of property, which
government actually does protect, on abstract right. Indeed, in
looking at the great authorities on this subject — Cicero, Seneca,
Grotius, Montesquieu, Blackstone — the idea is traceable through
them all, that property is a possession according to law. They
all admit that there is such a thing as abstract right, natural
right, and insist upon it, and upon this they base what is called

why he shall not have complete control of the product of his labor ! A
man has a right to the fruit of his toil ; the public may and will fix a
price upon his product?, according to the amount of labor, skill, and
capital bestowed, but they may not deny his right to them, or confiscate
them or any portion of them. If a man uses old ideas, the public will
reward him accordingly, but it is no argument in behalf of denying him
the right to sell what he has produced, for what he can get.

* There are other modes of acquisition, as discovery, hunting, fishing,
which carry the same right of possession, as actual production by
manual labor.

363

common law ; but yet no one lays down the principle that
abstract right or natural right is either a complete and perfect
right, in itself, or that it is essential to the idea of property.

Such is authority, as we find it, with the conservatives ; there
is a new school which denies this individual right, and claims
every thing for society. Bentham lends some countenance to
this : he denies altogether the doctrine of abstract right as the
foundation of property, and insists that in its principle it is
the gift of law. What the law gives a man is his : nothing else.
Proudhon goes further, and declares that " property is robbery'*
— in other words, not only is the present distribution of prop
erty the result of artifice, fraud, violence, but, in the nature of
things, property belongs to the community, and not to individ
uals. According to him, a man who appropriates a thing to
his own use and behoof, robs society of what belongs to them.*

* Nothing is more opposed to man's instincts than the negation of
his individuality, implied by Communisn. A man feels that he is a
being, in himself; that he has the right to act and think independent
ly, and of and for himself. It is this individuality, this independence,
which gives value, meaning, responsibility, to his conduct. Commu
nism overturns this idea : this regards mankind us grouped into socie
ties, each society being like a tree, of which the individual person is but
a leaf; or like the madrepores — a myriad of little insects living in the
fibres of a sort of animal- plant rooted to a rock — all breathing, all
nourished, all acting, with one nervous system, one consciousness, one
sensorium. This is phalansterianism ; here is the root of Proudhon's
apothegm — as every thing belongs to society, it is robbery for an indi
vidual to appropriate any thing to himself. Nevertheless, in looking
at civilized society, in all ages, we find something of this communism;
that is to say, we find that mankind, living together in communities,
give up at least a portion of their abstract rights, and agree to be governed
by laws which take into view the highest good of all. Thus society is a
compromise, in which both the principle of individual rights, accord
ing to Blackstone, and communal rights, according to Proudhon, are
recognized. The rule was laid down nearly two thousand years ago —
Do to another as you would have another do to you, and we are not likely
to get a better. That regards man as a being of intellect, conscience,
and responsibility, and bound to seek his own happiness by promoting
the happiness of others. That is Christianity, which is above Commu
nism — though the latter lias certainly taught us, in fcornc respect-.,

364: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Thus vague, confused, and contradictory are the ideas which
attach to the principle of property, even among the learned.
The fact certainly is, that in its distribution very little respect
has been paid to abstract rights. Nearly all laws, by all gov
ernments, from the Romans downward, have been based upon
considerations of policy, or what they call the public good.
Some deference has no doubt been paid to the common in
stincts of men, and as justice is one of these, the theory of
abstract rights has been recognized ; but yet how rarely have
kings, and princes, and potentates molded their laws or their
acts in obedience to the rights of man.*

better how to carry out the aims of Christianity. As a system, it is
fallacious; as having developed instructive facts, it has contributed
largely to civilization.

* The idea, so familiar now, that a man has a right to the fruit of his
labor, is after all of rather modern date. So long as governments could
compel men to plow, sow, reap, and thus feed society — by holding them
in slavery — so long this was practiced all over Europe. A fundamental
idea of the feudal system was, that the land-workers were villains, and
belonged either to the soil or to the lord of the manor, and were trans
ferred, in purchase and sale, as such. In England, hi 1360, " the Stat
ute of Laborers" punished workmen who left their usual abodes, by
being branded in the foreheads with the letter F. ; it required persons
not worth forty shillings to dress in the coarsest russet cloth, and to be
B«rved once a day " with meat, fish, or the offal of other victuals." In
1461, the king of France ordained that "the good fat meat should be
sold only to the rich, and the poor should be confined to the buying o±
lean and stinking meat."

During these periods, laborers who removed from place to place must
have letters-patent granting them this privilege, or be put in the stocks.
In 1406, children of poor parents must be brought up in the trade or call
ing of their parents. These absurd and iniquitous laws did not cease
till the time of Charles II. ; indeed, so late as 1775, the colliers of Scot
land were considered as belonging to the collieries in which they had
been accustomed to work !

The source of this system was a desire on the part of the capitalists
to compel the laborers to work for them as slaves ; it was the conspi
racy of capital against free labor ; nor was it abandoned until it was
discovered by the governments that this system of compulsory or slave
labor was unprofitable. Policy, necessity indeed, dictated the protec
tion of labor, and it is in pursuance of this policy for some two hun-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 365

If we look at the history of copyright, we shall see that
authors have heen, from the beginning, treated according to
these principles of government — which shape all things with a
primary and controlling regard to policy or the public good.
Knowledge is power, and this was as well understood by tho
despotisms of the middle ages as it is by those of the present
day. They sought therefore to keep it in their own hands.
"When the art of printing was discovered, some four centuries
ago, and threatened to diffuse knowledge among the masses of
mankind, the governments became alarmed, and immediately
subjected it to supervision and restraint.

Hitherto the right of copy had been worthless to the author ;
his works could only be reproduced by the pen, and writing for
publication was never practiced. Now a mighty change in his
position had taken place : the press multiplied his works as by
magic. A r.ow idea, a new interest, was thus created, ^fan-
kind had already learned to prize books : a copy of the Bible
would command the price of a farm. The power to multiply and
vend copies of books, was seen at once to be a mighty power.
This was naturally claimed by the printer as to old works, and
as to new ones, by the author. Thus arose the notion of copy
right — the direct result of the discovery of the art of printing.
Yet it does not appear that this natural, abstract, absolute right
of authors was at all regarded. They were, in fact, looked
upon with suspicion ; the press was deemed by governments
as well as the people, a device of the devil. Kings, princes,
and potentates, therefore, immediately seized upon it, not as
a thing to be encouraged, but to be dreaded, watched, restrain
ed. They suppressed whatever was offensive, and licensed
only what was approved. This license was a grant of the
sovereign, and it was the first form of actual copyright. It
was founded on privilege alone. The licenses granted were du
ring the lifetime of the author, or in perpetuity, according to the

dred years that the right of a man to the fruit of his labor has come to
bo regarded as an axiom in all truly civilized countries.

366 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

good pleasure of the king. These were deemed property, and
were bought and sold as such. Thus copyright, in its origin,
was the gift of government, or in other words, of the law.

This was the practice of all civilized governments. In France,
the ordinance of Moulins, in 1566, a decree of Charles IX., in 1571,
and a patent of Henry III., constituted the ancient law on this
subject. The king always -egarded himself as at liberty to grant
or refuse the license, and to impose such conditions and restric
tions as he pleased. Generally the right of the author was per
petual, unless he assigned it to a bookseller, in which case it was
thrown open to the public at his death.

The early history of copyright was similar to this, in England.
It was illegal to print a book without the government imprima
tur. This continued to be the law until the time of Queen
Anne, when a general law — 1710 — was passed, giving the au
thor an interest of twenty-one years in his work.

Thus it appears that for nearly three hundred years after the
origin of printing, copyright rested upon privilege granted by
the crown. During the latter part of this period it had become
familiar to the mind that the farmer and the mechanic were
entitled to the use and behoof of the fruits of their labor. These
held their right at common law ; but no such right was accord
ed to the author, nor was he permitted to print and sell his
book, but by license, by privilege. Even so late as 1774, and
long after the passage of a general act on this subject, the House
of Lords, upon solemn adjudication, decided that the right of an
author to his copy was the gift of the statute, and not one flow
ing from principles of justice. This doctrine has been substan
tially affirmed by the recent decision in England — that of the
House of Lords reversing Lord Campbell's opinion.

And one thing more is to be regarded, that when more liberal
ideas had begun to prevail — when the author was emancipated
from the censorship, and his claims were based on a general law,
and not on privilege — the perpetual right of copy was taken away,
and it was limited to twenty-one years ! Since that tune the

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 367

number ot authors has increased, and the press has risen into
a mighty interest, and yet, to this day, in no country on the
face of the globe, is the author placed on the footing of the
farmer and the mechanic : these enjoy, by the common law, and
the acknowledged principles of justice, the absolute right to
their products, while the author has only a limited protection,
dependent entirely upon the statute. The present copyright
laws of all civilized governments are nearly the same ; except in
Great Britain, the United States, and a few other countries, the
press is under a censorship, the governments suppressing what
they choose : the protection given is generally for about forty-
two years, after which time, the works of authors are thrown
open to the public.

It is thus obvious that from the beginning to the present time,
the fundamental idea of copyright in all countries has been and
is, that protection iii the enjoyment of it is the gift of statute
law — of an enactment of government. Nowhere does it rest
on abstract right ; in no country is the doctrine recognized that
an author has the same right to the fruit of his labor, as has
the farmer or the mechanic to the fruit of his. Material prop
erty everywhere is protected by common law : everywhere is
literary property the gift of statute law.

And yet, International Copyright is urged by its advocates,
upon principles of abstract justice, principles of common law,
principles rejected in the practice of every civilized government
on the face of the globe !

It is, I think, one of the great misfortunes of this question,
that it has been thus placed on a false basis, and for this obvi
ous reason, that where a claim rests on principles of justice,
the denial of it implies moral obliquity. In such a case, hard
names, harsh epithets, bitter feelings, are likely to be engen
dered: irritation rather than conviction is the result. What
ever may be the abstract right of the matter, the fact is, that all
governments have hitherto founded local copyright on policy
alone. When, therefore, the people of Great Britain ask us to

368 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

enter into a partnership of international copyright, we very nat
urally test the question by the principles which govern them, as
well as other civilized nations, in dealing with local copyright.
If they call us pirates, because we reprint books not secured by
copyright, it is inevitable that we retort by saying that they do
the same. If they say, we are holier than thou, because we
offer you international copyright, we are tempted to reply,
that in the mean time your attitude is no better than this : you
say to us — " We will stop stealing when you do, and not before !"
If they insist that we are robbers in not giving copyright to
Mr. Dickens, because no law protects him at the distance of
three thousand miles — we reply that you are robbers, because
you give no copyright to the heirs of Dryden, or Pope, or Swift,
or Scott, or Chalmers, nor do you give copyright to anybody
after a lapse of about forty -two years.

All this we have said, and with some show of reason, and yet
I think, if the subject be fairly considered, it still leaves us in a
false position. Though, it may be, and no doubt is, true that
ah1 governments have denied the claim of the author to an ab
solute and perpetual right of copy, still no civilized government
has assumed that he has no claim. All such governments have
in fact given him a limited protection, and this has been gradual
ly extended with the increase of light and justice among mankind.

If we scrutinize the motives of governments in the more
recent legislation on this subject, we are at no loss to discover
that these consist of two considerations : one is, that the au
thor, like every other laborer, is worthy of his hire; as he
contributes to the public amusement and instruction, he is en
titled to compensation ; and the other is, that it is for the pub
lic good to encourage those who thus promote the happiness of
society. Here, then, the right of the author to the fruit of his
toil, is at least partially recognized ; society admits it, but in un
dertaking to protect him in this right, society assumes the liberty
of prescribing certain conditions in view of the public good. As
it might tend to limit the beneficent influence of genius, and to

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 369

restrain the full light of literature in after-times, to entail upon
the author and upon his heirs, forever, the exclusive control of
his works, it has been deemed best to limit that control to a pe
riod of about forty-two years.

This is, I think, the theory of local copyright law, among
the most enlightened nations of the present day. Now. let
us Americans consider our position in relation to living Brit
ish authors. Their books come among us ; they are published
and circulated among us. You and I and everybody read them,
and profit by them. And do we pay the author any thing for
all this ? Not a farthing ; nay, when he asks us for compensa
tion, we say to him, you live three thousand miles off, and the
laws of honesty and morality do not extend so far !

Now, is that an honorable position ? Is it an extenuation to
say that other people do this ? Does it not enhance the un
fairness of our conduct to consider that the British government
stands ready to remedy this wrong ?

Let us suppose that two farmers live on opposite banks of a
river ; and it occasionally happens that their flocks and herds
cross this stream, and stray into the neighboring grounds. What
is the true principle of conduct between these two parties : is
it that each shall confiscate to his own use the property that
thus strays into his premises ? That certainly is a barbarous
practice. But suppose one says to the other, " I am satisfied
this is wrong — let us come to an understanding : if you will re
store to me such of my flocks and herds as stray into your
grounds, I will do the same to you, and thus peace and justice
will be established between us." And let us suppose that the
other refuses this reasonable proposition, and says, " No ; we
have both been accustomed to this kind of stealing, and I am
determined to continue it." Is not this farmer in the wrong?

And in our refusal to make British authors any compensation,
are we not in the precise attitude of this ungenerous farmer ?

The truth undoubtedly is, that in refusing International Copy
right altogether, we are wrong : we cannot vindicate ourselves

370 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

by saying that we follow the example of governments in their
local copyright law, for although, as I have shown, these do not
recognize the absolute and perpetual claim of authors to the right
of copy, yet all allow that they have a right to some compensation
for their works. Our wrong lies in this, that we deny all com
pensation. This, if it is voluntary, is not very far from robbery.

Now I do not believe the people of the United States are to
be charged with this willful wrong: I am persuaded that the
subject has not been well understood. It has appeared to them
that a questionable right lias been urged, as the means of forcing
us into an unreasonable bargain. The general idea of the pro
posed international copyright, has been a mutual extension of the
local copyright laws to the authors of the two countries ; that is
to say, the British author shall avail himself of our copyright law,
and the American author shall avail himself of the British copy
right law. In this sense, the two countries would be thrown
into one market, available on the same terms to the authors,
publishers, and booksellers of each.

For myself, it seems hardly worth while seriously to discuss
such a scheme as this, and for the plain reason that it never
can be enacted by our government, or if enacted, it would
speedily be repealed by the people. This claim to international
copyright, as I have said, has been urged in such a spirit by
British writers, that the public mind here has been prejudiced
against it. It may be remarked, that the discussion of the sub
ject, by its advocates on this side of the water, has added to
this feeling of aversion, a very extended conviction that sound
policy forbids such a measure.

The grounds of objection to the scheme thus presented are
various, but the most formidable one is this : if the two coun
tries thus become one market, it will he mainly to the advan
tage of the British publishers. The British are a nation of sell
ers, not buyers. They preach free trade to all the world, but
when a market is open, they rush in and engross it. It is free
trade, but only to them. If we enter into the proposed part-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 371

nership, they will buy few of our copyrights — those only of
our first authors, and few books beyond samples. We may per
haps be permitted to purchase some copyrights of them, and pub
lish the works here ; but the general course of things will be this:
the London publishers, having the control of British copyrights,
will send their agents to New York, Boston, and Philadelphia,
or they will here form branch establishments. Through these
we shall be supplied with Britsh looks from British type, on
British paper, and with British binding.

This is the great objection, and if we are permitted to settle
the question by a regard to the interests of the country, it is
fatal to the scheme. Yet if we examine the case more closely
we shall see that the difficulty is not with British authors, but
with British publishers; it is not against foreign copyright, but
foreign booksellers. We have an immense interest involved in
the diversified industries employed in the manufacture of books,
embracing thousands of families and millions of dollars. This
naturally revolts at a scheme which threatens to paralyze, possi
bly to ruin it, in many of its branches. But no difficulty of this
nature could arise from an arrangement giving copyright to
British authors, provided their works be published by American
citizem, and be manufactured in the United States. Nay, I think
it is easy to suggest a plan of this nature, which would be ben
eficial to all the interests concerned — those of American authors
as well as American book producers.

The scheme I propose is this :

1. An author, being a citizen of Great Britain, shall have
copyright in the United States for a period not exceeding four
teen years, on the following conditions :

2. lie shall give due notice, in the United States,* of his inten-

* Tliis notice should be recorded in some one office, say in a regis
ter, kept tor tli;it purpose, at the Smithsonian Institute, so that by ref
ercuce to this, any person may know if copyright of a work which is
announced, is to be copyrighted, and also may see whether this roqui
Bition of the law has been complied with.

372 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

tion to secure his copyright in this country, three months before
the publication of his book ; and this shall be issued in the United
States within thirty days after its publication in Great Britain.

3. His work shall be published by an American citizen, who
shall lodge a certificate in the office of the clerk of the court
of the district where he resides, stating in whose behalf the
copyright is taken, and this shall be printed on the back of the
titlepage.

4. The work shall be printed on American paper,* and the
binding shall be wholly executed in the United States.

5. This privilege shall extend only to books, and not to pe
riodicals.

6. The arrangement thus made in behalf of the British authors
in America, to be extended to the American authors in Great
Britain, and upon similar conditions.

This is a mere outline of the general principles of the scheme,
by no means pretending to be complete in its details, or in the
technical form of an enactment. To such a plan I can conceive
no serious objections ; not only the authors of this country, but
the publishers would favor it. I am confident it would meet the
feelings, views, and wishes of the country at large. My reasons
for these views are briefly as follows :

1. This plan gives us the pledge of one of our own citizens,
living among us, and responsible in his person, character, and
position, for a faithful conformity to the law. Without meaning
to cast invidious reflections, it may be said that it would be a
strong temptation to any foreigner, under the circumstances —
having various inducements and many facilities for imposing upon

* I had entertained the idea that it would be proper to prescribe the
condition that the books should be from American type, and American
engravings, but several eminent publishers think it will be for the
advantage of all concerned, to permit the use of foreign stereotype
plates, inasmuch as there will often be great economy in this. We
shall soon send as many of these to England as we shall take from
thence. On the whole, it is believed that the true interest of engra
vers and type-founders even, will be best consulted by letting the ar
rangement be made as here proposed.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 373

us books manufactured at home — to commit this wrong ; it is
wise, therefore, to make provision against it. And besides, this
plan, securing the publication in the hands of American citizens,
will prevent the encouragement of British agencies and branch
establishments, so much apprehended among us.

2. A still more important point is this — that, as the books
will be issued by American publishers, they are likely to con
form to American ideas in respect to price. One of the ap
prehensions of international copyright, as heretofore proposed,
has been that, inasmuch as British books would be to a great
extent supplied to us by British publishers — either directly from
London or through their agents here — that they would be in
expensive and unsuitable forms, and at all events would come
to us at exaggerated prices. The plan proposed evidently re
moves all reasonable grounds for these apprehensions.

3. It is true that British works, thus copyrighted and pub
lished in this country, would be somewhat dearer than they are
now, without copyright. But how much ? The common rate
of copyright for an author, in the United States, is ten per cent,
on the retail price. Let us double this, and we have twenty per
cent, as the increased cost of the English book to the retail
purchaser. Thus, instead of paying one dollar for a work by
Dickens or Bulwer or Macaulay, we shall pay one dollar and
twenty cents — half of this addition going to the author, and half
to the publisher.*

4. Will the American reader object to this ? Let him consider
the reasons for it. In the first place, it is not pleasant, even
though it be lawful, to read Mr. Dickens's book, and refuse to
make him any return for the pleasure he has given us. In the
absence of any arrangement by which we can render to him this
compensation, we may lawfully peruse his works; but when ;i

* In many, and probably most cases, the increased cost of books
would not be more than ten per cent., and for this reason, that we
should import English stereotype plates, thus making a great saving in
the outlay of capital. This would certainly be the case in works em
bellished with engravings.

374 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

plan is proposed to us, and that a reasonable plan, and compati
ble with the best interests of the country- -then such refusal be
comes voluntary and designed on our part, and is a willful taking
without liberty, which is a plain definition of a very disreputable
act. No American can be gratified by such a state of things ;
on the contrary, I believe that every truly American heart would
rejoice to make ample compensation to British authors, for the
privilege of perusing their works. The English language being
our mother-tongue, we claim, as our birthright, free access to
the great fountain of British literature, that has become the
common property of the Anglo-Saxon race; but we will not
seek to rob the living author of the fruit of his genius or his toil.

5. Besides, we Americans should remember two other things:
first, that in consideration of the proposed arrangement in behalf
of Mr. Dickens and his brethren of the British quill, our Irvings,
Prescotts, Longfellows — the brotherhood of the American quill
— would receive a corresponding compensation on the other side
of the water. This would be something. Would it not be
agreeable to every American thus to certify his gratitude to
those of his countrymen who not only bestow upon him his most
exalted sources of pleasure and improvement, but eminently con
tribute to the best interests of society ?

But, in the second place, there are considerations infinitely
higher than those of a personal nature. Literature is at once a
nation's glory and defence.* Without its poets, orators, histo-

* " But are we to have — ought we have — a literature of our own ? I
say yes — we not only are to have, but we ought to have such a thing.
It would do more for us in a time of peace, than our battles on the sea
or our battles on the land in a time of war. In fact, authors are the
militia of a country on the peace establishment; it is they that are to
defend us and our firesides, the character of our country, our institu
tions, our hope and our faith, when they are assailed by the pen-militia
of Europe. And though — as I have had occasion to say before — it may
be cheaper to buy our literature ready-made ; cheaper, so far as the
money goes, for the present age ' to import it in bales and hogsheads,'
than to make it for ourselves, yet in the long run it would be sure to
turn out otherwise. It would be cheaper to buy soldiers ready-made,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 375

riaiis — the liberty, the arts, the genius of Greece would have
perished ages ago. These, being recorded and reflected by its
literature, she became immortal — surviving even conquest and
oppression and the lapse of time. Would you that our national
glory should be exalted — that our liberty should be vindicated,
extended, perpetuated? Would you that arts should arise and
flourish among us : that a noble and lofty pitch be given to the
national mind, and that a noble and lofty destiny achieved, at
last be recorded, reflected, and carried down to after-times ?
Whoever has these aspirations, thereby pleads for a national
literature.

To such I present the consideration that this, like every thing
else, must live by encouragement. That literature is encouraged
in this country, and, in some respects, as it is encouraged no
where else, I admit. That we surpass all other nations in our
periodical press, in our books for primary education, in the liter
ature of the people, in manuals for the various arts and profes
sions, is undeniable. Nor are we wholly delinquent in the higher
forms of literature — science, history, romance, poetry, eloquence.
In these things we have made a good beginning, but yet we are
only at the threshold of what we can do and should do. In pro-

the meicemiries of Europe to defend us in time of war, than it would be
to make soldiers of our fathers and brothers and sons — cheaper in the
outset, perhaps ; and yet, who would leave his country to the care of a
military stranger — to the good faith of hired legions ? Where would be
the economy, after a few years ? Even if it were cheaper to import our
defenders, therefore, it would be safer and wiser to manufacture de
fenders ; and if in a time of war, why not in a time of peace ?

" But granting a native literature to be essential to our character — and
who is there to deny it ? — for books travel the earth over ; books are
«-ead everywhere ; and every great writer, every renowned author con
fers a dignity upon his native country, of more worth and of more dura
bility than the warrior does — granting it, I say, to be so important tor
the character and safety of a people in time of peace, how are we 10
have it? By paying for it. By making it worth the while of our young
men to give up a portion of their time to the study of writing, not as a
boyish pastime — no, -nor even as a trade, but as an art — a science."—
John Neal.

376 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

portion as we love and honor our native land ; in proportion as
we feel desirous that our country should be honored by the
world — just in that proportion, by every logical consideration,
should we feel bound to protect and encourage its literature.

And yet, our actual position is opposed to this. We allow
untaxed British authorship to come into this country to the
detriment, the discouragement of our own. American authors,
in competition with British authors, are in the position that our
manufacturers would be, if British merchandise were gratuitously
distributed in our markets. The scheme herein proposed reme
dies these evils ; it taxes British literature, and thus — withhold
ing the encouragement it receives from being freely given away
— prevents it from being a fatal and discouraging competitor of
our own literature.

For these reasons, as well as others which need not be sug
gested, I believe the proposed scheme, or something resembling
it, would be acceptable to the country. If the arrangement is
made by treaty, it may be stipulated that it is to be terminated
after five years, at the pleasure of either party. In its nature,
therefore, it will be provisional and experimental, and may be
terminated or modified, as time and experience may dictate. If
it be said, either in this country or in Great Britain, that this is
not all that may be desired, let us consider whether, as a prac
tical question, it is not as much as it is now possible to obtain.
It is to be considered that International Copyright is a modern
idea ; and it is not altogether unreasonable that in dealing with
it — especially in this country, where so many and so important
interests are at stake — we should follow the cautious steps of the
mother country in granting copyright to her own citizens, which
at first was limited to twenty-one years.

Such are tlie views I had formed three years ago.
I was then in Europe ; since ray return, I am con
firmed in them by various considerations, and espe-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 377

cially by finding that some enlightened publishers,
who have hitherto doubted the expediency of inter
national copyright, in view of some such arrangement
as is here suggested, are now earnestly in favor of it.
Why, then, should we not try it ?

One thing is certain — the subject will never rest,
until International Copyright is adopted, in some form
or other. It is based on the same abstract but still
manifest right, by which every laborer claims the use
and behoof of the fruits of his toil; admitting that
governments may regulate and modify these rights,
according to the public good, still they may not alto
gether annihilate them. I have taken the ground
that governments, in local copyright laws, deny the
absolute and perpetual claim ; they refuse to base
their protection on common law ; but still one thing
is to be considered, and that is, that local copyright every
where does in fact make some compensation to the author,
and thus substantially admits his claim. We, who
refuse international copyright, must reflect that so
far as we are concerned, we deny all compensation to
the foreign autJior, and thus are manifestly in the
wrong.* We may pretend, indeed, that local copy-

* In France, copyright was regulated by royal decrees, till 1789, when
a general law was passed, establishing the old practice, which gave tlio
author copyright in perpetuity, except that in case of sale to a publi.^her,
it terminated at his death. At present, by acts of 1798 and 1S10, the
author has copyright during his life, and then his children twenty years
after. If there are no children, the actual heirs enjoy it for ten years.

The copyright law of England is stated elsewhere.

In Holland and Belgium, the copyright laws of France are adopted.

378 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

right affords all needful encouragement; but is it fair
for us, refusing ourselves to contribute to this, to take
to our use and behoof the articles for which we thus
refuse to pay — and that against the protest of those
whose toil has produced them ? Is that honorable —
is it fair play ?

The law is similar in Prussia, and also in the Zollverein, the heirs en
joying the right, however, for thirty instead of twenty years, after the
authors decease.

In Russia, the law gives copyright during the lifetime c f the author,
and twenty-five years after. An additional period often years is grant
ed, if an edition is published within five years before the expiration of
the copyright.

Sardinia adopted the French law in 1846.

In Portugal the law is similar to that of Prussia.

Spain formerly gave unlimited copyright, but often to religious com
munities, and not to the author. At present, the author has copyright
during his lifetime, and his heirs fifty years after his death.

Prussia was the first nation to pass a general act, offering International
Copyright to all countries that would reciprocate the same. This was
incorporated into her copyright law of 1837. England followed this
example in 1838.

Treaties for International Copyright have been entered into between
Austria, Sardinia, and Tessin, 1840 ; Prussia and England, 1846; France,
Sardinia, Hanover, England, and Portugal, in 1846, 1850, and 1851.

France has added a law prohibiting the counterfeiting of foreign books
and works of art, without requiring reciprocal stipulations from other
countries.

It is to be remarked, that International Copyright between these Eu
ropean Staies, generally having different languages, and trifling interests
at stake, is very easy and natural ; it is practically a very different matter
between England and the United States, which have the same language,
and immense industrial arts, trades, and professions, directly connected
with the subject. There may, indeed, be as good a reason why such an
agreement should exist between Great Britain and the United States as
between Great Britain and France, but still, as it involves infinitely
greater consequences, it is reasonable to treat the subject with more
mature and careful consideration.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 379

LETTER LIV,

Statistics of the Book Trade— Its Extension— The Relative Increase of
American Literature, as compared with British Literature.

MY DEAR C******

In my last letter I presented to you some sug
gestions respecting International Copyright. In do
ing this I have naturally gathered up my recollections
of the book trade in the United States for the last
forty years, and compared the past with the present.
I am so impressed with certain prominent and re
markable results and inferences, that I deem it proper
to present them to you. These may be grouped un
der two general heads :

1. The great extension of the book production in
the United States.

2. The large and increasing relative proportion of
American works.

Unfortunately we have no official resources for
exact statistics upon this subject. The general fact
of a vast development in all the branches of industry
connected with the press, is palpable to all persons
having any knowledge on the subject ; but the de
tails upon which this is founded, and the precise de
gree of increase, are to a considerable extent matters
of conjecture. Nevertheless, there are some facts
within our reach, and by the grouping of these, we

380 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

may approach the results we seek, with a sufficient
degree of certainty, for all practical purposes.

I. As to the extension of the book manufacture.

THE BOOK PRODUCTION OR MANUFACTURE IN 1820.
Let us go back to the year 1820, and endeavor to estimate
the gross amount of this trade in the United States at that
period. The following statement, it is supposed, may approach
the truth:

Amount of books manufactured and sold in the United States in 1820.

School books $750,000

Classical books 250,000

Theological books 150,000

Law books 200,000

Medical books 150,000

All others 1,000,000

Gross amount $2,500,000

$-0° The space between 1820 and 1830 may be considered as the pe
riod in which our national literature was founded ; it was the age in
which Irving, Cooper, Bryant, Halleck, Faulding, J. R. Drake, John
Neal, Brainard, Percival, Hillhouse, and others, redeemed the country
from the sneer that nobody read American books. During this period
we began to have confidence in American genius, and to dream of lit
erary ambition. The North American Review, already established,
kept on its steady way, and other attempts were made in behalf of
periodical literature, but with little success.

THE, BOOK MANUFACTURE IN 1830.

If we take 1830 as a period for estimating the product of the
book manufacture, we suppose it may stand thus :

School books $1,100,000

Classical books 350,000

Theological books 250,000

Law books 300,000

Medical books 200,000

All others 1,300,000

Gross amount $3,500,000

, UST" This shows an increase of production of forty per cent, in ten years.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 381

From 1830 to 1840 was an era of great and positive development, and
the foundation of a still more active era of progress and expansion in
the book trade. It may be considered as the point at which our litera
ture became established in our own confidence, and to some degree, in
the respect of the world. During this period, the following names
either first appeared or became eminently conspicuous :

In History — Prescott, Sparks, Bancroft, Irving.

In Mathematics— Day, Farrar, and the self-taught Bowditch, whose
translation of the Me"chanique Celeste of Laplace, is admitted to be su
perior to the original, by reason of its happy illustrations and added dis
coveries.

In Philology — Webster, whose quarto Dictionary is now admitted by
high British authority to take precedence of all others.

In Theology — Bush, Barnes, Norton, Stuart, Woods, Jeuks, Robin
son, Spring, A. Alexander, Durbin, Hodge, Bangs, Olin, L. Beecher,
Tyng, Thornwell.

In Political Economy, Philosophy, &c. — H. C. Carey, Colton, Lieber;
Wayland, Uphain, Tucker.

In General Science, Natural History, &c. — Silliman, Henry, Morton,
Rogers, Redfield, Espy, Audubon, Olmsted, Dana, Gray, Nut-tall, Bur-
ritt.

In Jurisprudence, International Law, &c. — Kent, Story, Wheaton,
Duer, Cowen.

In Medicine and Surgery— Dunglison, N. Smith, N. R. Smith, Bige-
low, Dewees, Beck, Doane, Wood, Mott, Eberle.

In Travels, Geography, &c. — Schoolcraft, Ruschenberger, Stephens,
Farnham.

In Essay and Criticism— Channing, the two Everetts, Emerson.

In Fiction — Cooper, Ware, Simms, Bird, Kennedy, Poe, Miss Sedg-
wick, Mrs. Child, Miss Leslie, Fay, Hoffman.

In Poetry — Bryant, Sprague, Pierpont, Dana, Willis, Longfellow,
Whittier, Mrs. Sigourney, Mellen, Morris, McLellan, Prentice, Benjamin.

In Educational and Church Music — Lowell Mason, probably the most
successful author in the United States.

JgF" This period is to be noted for the effective labors of W. C.Wood-
bridgc, James G. Carter, Horace Mann, Henry Barnard, and others, in
behalf of common-school education, and an immense improvement in
school-books, both in literary and mechanical execution, by means of
which geography, grammar, and history, very extensively became com
mon school studies. During the same period, history, chemistry, natural
philosophy, moral philosophy, rhetoric, geology, were all popularized,
and introduced into the public high-schools. The change in school-
books during this period amounted to a revolution, and resulted in that
!im:i/ing expansion in their use and distribution, which now murks tho
subject of education in the United State;.-. This also was the era of An
nuals, which added largely to the amount of the book-trade.

382

This is the era of the establishment of the Penny Press, wh .t is at
once a sign and instrument of progress. Its home is in the wiidst of
business, education, literature — in the very breathing and heart-beating
of life and action; and it gives impulse -and vigor to all these inter
ests. So powerful an instrument must sometimes seem to produce
evil, but on the whole it must be regarded as a great civilizer. We may
advert to a single illustration of its expanding influences : the three
principal penny papers of New York, at the present day, 1856— the
Herald, Tribune, and Times— each of them is a political paper, with
political opinions, yet each treats politics as a matter of general informa
tion, and publishes the principal doings and documents of all parties.
This is not so in any country where the penny press does not exist.

This is also the era in which monthly and semi-mothly Magazines
began to live and thrive among us. Among the most noted, are the
Knickerbocker, Merchants' Magazine, Graham's, Southern Literary Mes
senger, all continued to the present time, with others which have ceased
to exist.

THE BOOK MANUFACTURE IN 1840.

The book production for 1840 may be estimated as follows :*

School books $2,000,000

Classical books 550,000

Theological books 300,000

Law books 400,000

Medical books 250,000

All others 2,000,000

Gross amount $5,500,000

This calculation shows an increase of about sixty per cent, for ten
years.

From 1840 to 1850 was a period of general prosperity in the country,
and the full impulse of the preceding period continued through this.

American authorship was more appreciated at home and abroad — a
ci re;. instance greatly due to the enlightened and patriotic labors of Dr.
Griswold, who may be considered as among the first and most influential
of our authors in cultivating a respect for our own literature. New Amer
ican publications became very numerous during this period ; the style
of book manufacture was greatly improved ; numerous magazines were

* The following is a table of estimates of the various Industrial Inter
ests connected with the press, presented to Congress in behalf of the
Convention which met at Boston in 1842. Mr. Tileston, of Dorchester,
and myself were the committee appointed to proceed to Washington to
enforce the wishes of the petitioners, founded upon this exhibition.
Mr. Fillmore, the chairman of the Committee of Ways aud Means, then

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC.

383

founded ; the penny press was diffused, and became more elevated in its
character and more enlarged in its scope — several of the editors connected
with it marking the age by their sagacity, vigor, and largeness of view.

This era is also marked by the production of numerous works richly
illustrated by steel and wood engravings. The Harpers entered upon the
publication of handsome editions of books in all departments of litera
ture, many of them embellished by fine wood engravings ; the Apple-
tons of New York, Butler of Philadelphia, and others, gave to the public
those luxurious volumes, successors of the annuals, already alluded to.
The success of these rich and costly works signalizes the advance of
public taste. Putnam gives us Washington Irving's works in a guise
suited to their excellence, and a little later, the Homes of American
Authors, also in a style suited to the subject. About the same time the
writers for the Knickerbocker present its veteran editor with a Memorial
— an exquisite volume — as much a sign of the public appreciation as
their own.

The immense development of the school-book trade is a feature of
this era ; we now see editions of five, ten, twenty thousand copies of
geographies, grammars, spelling-books, readers. Spelling-books count
by millions, and geographies by hundreds of thousands. The mechan
ical character of these works is changed ; they have cast their brown-
paper slough, and appear in the costly dress of fine paper, fine illus
trations, and good binding. Twenty thousand dollars are paid for the
getting up of a school geography!

charged with framing the Tariff bill which soon after passed into a
iaw, gave us a patient hearing, and the views of the petitioners were
duly considered and acceded to.

EMPLOYMENTS, &c.

No. of per
sons
employed.

Amount of
business
annually.

No. of books,
&c., annually
produced.

Capital in
vested.

Publishing and Bookselling.
Periodicals, exclusive off

4,000

$7,000,000
500,000

1 2,000,000 vols
3,000,000 Nos.

4,000,000
200,000

Bookbinders ,

3,060

1,646,000

800,000

Type & Stereotype Found- |

i700

426,i'00

400,000

£nirr:iviiig. Wood, Steel, & |
Copper, includ. Designs j
Plate Printing

500
500

250,000
400,000

Newspapers . . . ...

6 000 000

j 300,000,000

2 200,000

Printing, including News- |

25.li-}

7,126,912

j sheets ann'y.

3,000,000

Paper of all kinds used for i
printing f

8,000

5,000,000

5,000,000

At the present time, 1856, it will be safe to double most of these
estimatea, to represent the presoat state of the game interests.

384: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Most of the authors which we have named as belonging to the pre
ceding era, shed their luster upon this. An.ong those who now first
entered the lists, we may name —

In History — Hildreth, Ingersoll, Eliot, Hawks, T. Irving, Frost,
Headley, Abbott, Brodhead, Mrs. Willard, Lossing, C. A. Goodrich,
and soon after, Motley, who, at the very outset, has attained a high
reputation. In political history — Young, Benton.

In Jurisprudence — Greenleaf, George T. Curtis, W. W. Story, and
soon after, B. R. Curtis, T. Parsons, Edwards, Dayton, Dean, E. F.
Smith, Dunlap, Waterman, Willard.

Mathematics — Pierce, Davies, Courtenay, Millington, Hackley, Loomis.

Philology — Prof. C. A. Goodrich, editor of Webster's Dictionary ;
Worcester, Pickering. ^

Political Economy, Philosophy, &c. — E. P. Smith, Mahan, Tappan,
Hickok.

Theology — Bushnell, Hawes, Cheever, Wainwright, Wines, Hunting-
ton, Spring, Wisner, J. A. Alexander, Taylor, McClintock, E. Beecher,
Williams, Stevens, Fisk, Dowling, Cross, Conant, Choules.

Medicine and Surgery — J. C. Warren, Greene, Parker, Bartlett, Cly-
mer, Drake, Pancoast, H. H. Smith, Harris, Carson ; and since 1850,
Bedford, Watson, Gross, Flint, Lee, Blackman.

General Science, Natural History, Geography, &c. — Agassiz and
Guyot — whom we now claim as citizens ; with Bartlett, Squicrs, Maury,
Mitchell, J. D. Dana, Baird, Hall, Emmons, Mahan, D. A. Wells,
Wood, St. John, Wilkes — the latter giving us a new continent by dis
covery ; Lynch, who has furnished the best account of the Dead Sea and
its environs ; and, we may add, Com. Perry, who introduces us to Japan.

In Classical Literature — Leverett, Anthon, Andrews, Gould, Brooks,
McClintock, Owen, Kendrick, Sophocles, Johnson, Thacher.

Essay and Criticism — Prescott, Chapin, Giles, Sprague, Hague, Charles
Simmer, Whipple, Palfrey, Winthrop, Beecher, Cheever, Milburn.

Travels, Geography, &c. — Catlin, Stephens, Curtis, Bayard Taylor,
Uartlelt, Willis, Southgute, Robinson, Olin, Kendall, Fremont, Kidder,
Parkrnan, Coggshall, Colton.

In light, racy writing, full of life-pictures and luscious fancies — Curtis,
Cozzens, Mitchell, Bayard Taylor, Willis, Matthews, Baldwin.

In Miscellaneous Literature — Ticknor. Tuckcrinan, Longfellow, Gris-
wold, Mrs. Child, Hall, Headley, Mrs. Kirkland, Grace Greenwood, Mrs.
Ellet, Mrs. Hale, Seba Smith ; and in 1856, E. A. and G. L. Duyckinck.

In Fiction — Melville, Kimball, Mayo, Mrs. Stowe, Miss Mackintosh,
Alice Carey, Elizabeth Warner, Mrs. Southworth, Miss Wormley, Mrs.
Oakes Smith, Minnie Myrtle.

In Poetry — Holmes, Lowell, Buchanan Read, Bayard Taylor, Saxe,
Epes Sargent, W. R. Wallace, T. W. Parsons, Cranch, Fields.

Books of Practical Utility — Miss Catharine Beecher, Miss Leslie, Fanny
Fern, G. P. Putnam, J. L. Blake, Downing, Haven, and many others.

385

It is not possible to give all the names of those who have distinguished
themselves in Educational Manuals ; among them, however, are the fol
lowing : Mitchell, Olney, Smith, Morse, Willard, Monteith, McNully,
Fitch, Miss Cornell, Mrs. Willard, in School Geographies ; in Keaders
ind Spellers, Emerson, Parker, Town, Saunders, Swan, Sargent, Tower,
McGuffie, Cobb, Lovell ; in Grammars, Kirkham, Clark, Brown, R. C.
Smith, Weld, Wells, Dalton, Greene, Pineo; in Arithmetics, Emerson,
Davies, Greenleaf, Thomson, Stoddard, E. C. Smith, Adams; in various
other works, Hooker, Gallaudet, Comstock, Burritt, Mrs. Phelps, Page,
Mansfield, H. N. Day, Boyd, Miss Dwight, Darley, Gillespie ; in Maps
and Atlases, Mitchell, J. H. Colton. The latter has in progress, and
nearly completed, the best General Atlas ever published in any country.

THE BOOK MANUFACTURE IN 1850.

The era of 1850 affords the following estimates :

School books $5,500,000

Classical books 1,000,000

Theological books 500,000

Law books 700,000

Medical books 400,000

All other books 4,400,000

Gross amount $12,500,000

This shows an advance of one hundred and twenty-five per cent, in
ten years.

From 1850 to 1856, the momentum of preceding periods was
reinforced by the quickening impulse of a host of female writers,
whose success presents a marked phenomenon in the history of
our literature at this time.

To this era belongs Mrs. Stowe, who, so far as the sale of her works is
concerned, may be considered the most successful woman-writer ever
known; Miss Warner, Fanny Fern, Mrs. Stephens, Miss Cummings,
Marion Harland (Miss Hawes), and others, produce books of which
twenty, thirty, forty, fifty thousand are sold in a year.

About this time is the successful era of monthly magazines, as Har
pers', Putnam's, &c. The former outstrips all other works of the kind
yet published, issuing one hundred and seventy thousand numbers a
month !

The last ten years have been noted for the production of local, state,
town, and city histories, as well as genealogical histories. Many of
these are of great interest, going back to the lights and shadows of
colonial periods. Here are the future resources of historic poetry and
romance, of painting and sculpture.

VOL. II.— 17

386 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

During this period there have also been produced numerous valuable
and costly works by the General Government, relating to navigation,
geography, &c., and also local, State surveys, under State patronage,
of great interest and utility.

During this period, pictorial-sheet literature is brought to a climax
in every form, up to the blanket-folio. This is the age of vigorous ad
vertising, by means of which "fifty thousand copies are sold before a
book is printed."

This is also the millennial era of Spiritual Literature, which has now
its periodicals, its presses, and its libraries.

It is also the climax of the Thrilling, Agonizing Literature, and which,
by the way, is thus rather wickedly mocked by the poet of the " Fruit
Festival" already alluded to :

"This is the new ' Sensation1 Book—

A work of so much force
The first edition all blew up,

And smashed a cart and horse!
A friend who read the manuscript

Without sufficient care,
"Was torn to rags, although he had

Six cables round his bair !

" ' The Eggs of Thought' I'll recommend

As very thrilling lays ;
Some poets poach— but here is one

That all the papers praise.
The school commissioners out West

Have ordered seventy tons,
That widely they may be dispersed

Among their setting siins !

"And here's a most Astounding Tale —
A volume full of fire;

The author's name is known to fame-
Stupendous Stubbs, Esquire !

And here's ' The Howling Ditch of Crime,'
By A. Sapphira Stress:

Two hundred men fell dead last night
A working at the press!"

THB BOOK MANUFACTURE IN 1356.

The amount of the production of our American book-trade at
this time — that is, for the year 1856 — may be estimated at about
sixteen millions of dollars ; and the annual increase of this in
terest at about a million of dollars a year.

This sum may be distributed as follows :

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC.

387

Produced in New York city in the year 1 856 $6,000,000

In other parts of the State — Albany, Schenectady, Utica, Sy
racuse, Cazenovia, Ithaca, Rochester, Auburn, Buffalo, &c. 600,000

In Boston 2,500,000

In other New England towns — New Haven, Hartford, Prov
idence, Springfield, Northampton, Salem, Newburyport,

Portland, Keene, &c 600,000

In Philadelphia 3,400,000

[The operations of the book-trade in this city are enormous, but a
large amount of the books distributed from this point are manu
factured elsewhere. The house of Lippincott, Grambo & Co. does
a larger book business than any other in the world. They are
very extensive publishers, but they often order whole editions of
other houses.]

In Cincinnati 1,300,000

[This city is less than a century old, from its first log-cabin ; yet an
excellent authority says: " In 1860 this western city, with a pop
ulation of 116,000, has twelve publishing houses, which give em
ployment to seven hundred people. The value of books and
periodicals published here is $1,250,000 a year. I consider that
there is more reading of books in Ohio than in Germany. The
chief works in demand are religious and educational."*]
In the Northwestern States — Detroit, Chicago, Milwaukee.. . 100,000

In the District of Columbia — by the Government 750,000

The Southern and Southwestern States consume a consider
able amount of books, though small in comparison to the
rest of the United States. Their production of books and
of literature is still less in proportion. Baltimore, Rich
mond, Charleston, Columbus, Savannah, Macon, Mobile,
New Orleans, St. Louis, and Louisville, are considerable
markets for the sale of books, and a few works are pub
lished in some of these places. In Baltimore and Louis
ville, the publishing interest is extensive. We may esti
mate the whole book production in this section at 750,000

Total in the United States $16,000,000

You will bear in mind that this estimate, throughout, regards only books
manufactured in the United States,' the amount of books imported is
probably about a million of dollars a year. If so, the whole consump
tion of books in this country is probably not far from seventeen millions
of dollars annually!

* See the "Bibliographical Guide to American Literature" of Messrs.
Trubner & Co., London — an interesting work, abounding in curious and
startling yet gratifying facts, in respect, to the literature of the United
States.

.

388 LETTERS BIOGBAPHICAL,

Now, my dear C , you must remember that the

details of these estimates are not founded upon pre
cise official statistics, but are only inferences from
general facts tolerably well established. Considering
these as estimates merely, they may still be such
probable approximations to the truth as to give us
a general view of the amount and movement of the
book production of the United States. This, of
course, leaves out the newspaper and periodical press,
which circulates annually six millions of copies, and
five hundred millions of separate numbers ! I do
not dilate upon the fact that we have two hundred
colleges, a hundred thousand elementary schools,
fifty theological seminaries, twenty law schools, forty
medical schools, and that our public and school libra
ries number five millions of volumes ;* yet these are
to be taken in connection with the tabular views 1
have given. Then, I ask, have we not a literature ?
I now invite your attention to another topic :
II. The large and increasing proportion of American
productions — that is, productions of American mind — in
the books published in the United States.

Taking, as before, certain prominent facts as the basis of cal
culation, we arrive at the following conclusions :

In 1820, the book manufacture of the United States was based
upon works of which thirty per cent, was the production of
American authors, and seventy per cent, of British authors.

* See Triibner's Bibliographical Guide, before quoted, page xxvii. It
is there estimated that in 1860 the public libraries will amount to ten
millions of volumes.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 389

From 1820 to 1830, as we have seen, a considerable impulse was
given to American literature, which now began sensibly to diminish the
relative proportion of British works among us.

In 1830, the book production of the United States embraced
forty per cent, of American works, and sixty per cent, of British
works.

£^~ From 1830 to 1840, still greater activity prevailed in American
authorship, and school-books were extensively multiplied ; we shall see,
therefore, during this period, a corresponding relative increase of Amer
ican works.

In 1840, we estimate the proportion of American works to be
fifty-five per cent., and that of British works forty-five per cent.

t^m From 1840 to 1850 has been the most thriving era of American
literature, and during this ten years we find that the balance has turned
largely in favor of American works.

In 1850, we estimate the proportion of American works to be
seventy per cent, and of British works to be thirty per cent.

In 1856, it is probable that the proportion of American works
is eighty per cent, and that of British books twenty per cent.

53F" It will be understood that we here speak of all new editions of every
Icind : of the works of living British authors, the proportion is much less
than twenty per-cent.

Some general observations should be made by way of explanation.

1. School-books constitute a very large proportion of the book
product of the United States ; probably thirty to forty per cent, of the
whole. Sixty years ago we used English readers, spelling-books, and
arithmetics ; forty years ago we used English books adapted to our
wants. Now our school-books are superior to those of all other coun
tries, and are wholly by American authors. More than a million of Web
ster's Spelling-books are published every year. We produce annually
more school-books than the whole continent of Europe !

2. The classical works in use, formerly altogether British, are now
aeven-e:ghthfl American.

3. The elementary treatises on law, medicine, theology, and science,
are mostly American.

4. The dictionaries in general use are American.

5. The popular reading of the masses is three-fourths American.

6. Three-fourths of the new novels and romances are American.

7. The new foreign literature, reproduced among us, consists mainly of
works of science, philosophy, jurisprudence, medicine and surgery, di
vinity, criticism, and general literature. Thirty per cent, of the works of

390 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

these classes— constituting the higher walks of literature generally—
are of foreign origin. — See Note IL^p. 552, vol. ii.

Now, not insisting upon the precise accuracy of
these estimates, but still regarding them as approaches
to the truth, we have the basis for some interesting
observations.

Though, as an independent nation, we are less than
a century old, and though we have been busily en
gaged in exploring wildernesses, in felling forests,
founding States, building cities, opening roads ; in
laying down railways, in teaching steamboats to
traverse the waters before only known to the Indian
canoe ; in converting lakes and rivers — the largest in
the world — into familiar pathways of commerce, and
as a consummation of our progress, in netting half a
continent with lines of telegraph — still, we have found
time, and courage, and heart, to outstrip all that the
world has before seen, in the diffusion of knowledge,
by means of the periodical press; in the number and
excellence of our common schools ; in the number,
cheapness, and excellence of our books for elemen
tary education.

Though not claiming comparison with the Old
World in the multitude of new works of the highest
class in literature and science, we have still made a
good beginning, and have many readers in the other
hemisphere, under the eaves of universities and col
leges, which have been founded for centuries.

Tn the midst of the haste and hurry of life, induced

HISTOEICAL, ANECDOTICALj ETC. 391

by the vast fields of enterprise around us and beck
oning us on to the chase — we still find a larger por
tion of our people devoted to education, and read
ing, and meditation, and reflection, than is to be met
with in any other land ; as a corollary of this, we
find, relatively, more hands, more purses, more heads
and hearts, devoted to the support of literature and
the dissemination of knowledge, than in any other
country of equal population.

It is also to be observed that, after all that has
been said and surmised as to the dependence of Amer
ican literature upon the British press, that the ele
ment of British mind, in the production of American
publications, is really but about twenty per cent.,
and this proportion is rapidly diminishing. Of the
new books annually produced in the United States,
not more than one-fifth part are either directly or in
directly of foreign origin.

It is, however, to be at the same time admitted and
reflected upon, that our deficiency and our depend
ence lie chiefly in the higher efforts of mind and
genius — those which crown a nation's work, and
which confirm a nation's glory ; and it is precisely
here that we are now called upon, by every legitimate
stimulus, to rouse the emulation, the ambition, the
patriotism of our country.* It is, as tributary to such

* " In order that America may take its due rank in the commonwealth
of nations, a literature is needed which shall be the exponent of its
higher life. We live in times of turbulence and change. There is a
general dissatisfaction, manifesting itself often in rude contests and ruder

392 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

a consummation, that I would earnestly urge upon
our people, and those whom they have placed in au
thority, to adopt the modified but still desirable
measure of International Copyright, already suggest
ed. Just at present this would be a little against us,
that is to say, we should buy more copyrights of the
British than they of us ; but, at the rate of progress
hitherto attained by American literature, before twen
ty years — probably before ten years — are past, the

speech, with the gulf which separates principles from actions. Men are
struggling to realize dim ideals of right and truth, and each failure adds
to the desperate earnestness of their efforts. Beneath all the shrewd
ness and selfishness of the American character, there is a smouldering
enthusiasm which flames out at the first touch of fire — sometimes at the
hot and hasty words of party, and sometimes at the bidding of great
thoughts and unselfish principles. The heart of the nation is easily
stirred to its depths ; but those who rouse its fiery impulses into action
are often men compounded of ignorance and wickedness, and wholly
unfitted to guide the passions which they are able to excite. There is
no country in the world which has nobler ideas embodied in more worth
less shapes. All our factions, fanaticisms, reforms, parties, creeds, ri
diculous or dangerous though they often appear, are founded on some
aspiration or reality which deserves a better form and expression. There
is a mighty power in great speech. If the sources of what we call our
fooleries and faults were rightly addressed, they would echo more ma
jestic and kindling truths. We want a poetry which shall speak in
clear, loud tones to the people ; a poetry which shall make us more in
love with onr native land, by converting its ennobling scenery into the
images of lofty thoughts; which shall give visible form and life to the
abstract ideas of our written constitutions ; which shall confer upon
virtue all the strength of principle and all the energy of passion ; which
shall disentangle freedom from cant and senseless hyperbole, and ren
der it a thing of such loveliness and grandeur as to justify all self-sacri
fice ; which shall make us love man by the new consecrations it sheds
on his life and destiny ; which shall force through the thin partitions of
conventionalism and expediency ; vindicate the majesty of reason ; give
new power to the voice of conscience, and new vitality to human affec
tion ; soften and elevate passion; guide enthusiasm in a right direc
tion ; and speak out in the high language of men to a nation of men."

K P. Whippk.

HISTOEICAL, AJSTECDOTICAL, ETC. 393

scales will be turned in our favor, and they will buy
more copyrights of us than we shall of them. At
all events, an immediate and powerful stimulus would
be added to authorship, and to some of the trades and
professions connected with the production of books
in this country, if we could have the British market
opened to us on some such plan as is herein pro
posed. Nearly every new work would be stereotyped,
and a set of plates sent to England ; and these, in
view of the increased sale, and the high and im
proving standard of taste, abroad, would be got up
in a superior manner, in all respects. Let us think
well of these things !

LETTER LV.

Recollections of Washington — The House of Representatives — Missouri
Compromise — Clay, Randolph, and Lowndes — The Senate — Rufus King
— William Pinkney — Mr. Macon — Judge Marshall — Election of J. Q.
Adams — President Monroe — Meeting of Adams and Jackson — Jaclcsoii's
Administration — Clay — Calhoun — Webster— Anecdotes.

MY DEAR C******

In the autumn of 1846, I went with my family
to Paris, partly for literary purposes, and partly also
to give my children advantages of education, which,
in consequence of my absorbing cares for a series of
years, they had been denied. Here they remained
for nearly two years, while I returned home to at
tend to my affairs, spending the winters, however,

17*

394: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

with them. Leaving my observations upon Paris to
be grouped in one general view, I pass on with my
narrative.

Toward the close of 1849 I removed to New York,
to execute certain literary engagements. These com
pleted, I went, in December, 1850, to Washington,
taking my family with me. Here we remained for
three months, when, having received the appoint
ment of United States Consul to Paris, I returned to
New York, and after due preparation, sailed on the
5th of April, 1851, to enter upon the official duties
which thus devolved upon me.

I invite you to return with me to Washington.
I had often been there, and had of course seen and
observed many of the remarkable men who had fig
ured in the great arena of politics, through a space
of thirty years. I shall now gather up and present
to you a few reminiscences connected with this, our
national metropolis, which still linger in my mind.
Avoiding political matters, however, which are duly
chronicled in the books, I shall only give sketches
of persons and things, less likely to have fallen un
der your observation.

My first visit to Washington was in the winter of
1819-20. Monroe was then President, and D. D.
Tompkins, Vice-president ; Marshall was at the head
of the Supreme Court ; Clay, Speaker of the House
of ."Representatives. In the latter body, the two most
noted members, exclusive of the speaker, were Wil-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 395

Ham Lowndes of South Carolina, and John Ran
dolph of Virginia.

At the period of my visit, the clouds were mus
tering in the horizon for that tempest which not only
agitated Congress, but the whole country, in conse
quence of the application of Missouri for admission
into the Union. A few weeks later, the " Compro
mise of 36° 30','' was passed by both houses, but the
actual admission of the State did not take place till
the ensuing session. I was at Washington but one
day, and of course could only take a hurried view
of the principal objects of interest. I was in the House
of Representatives but a single hour. While I was
present, there was no direct discussion of the agita
ting subject which already filled everybody's mind,
but still the excitement flared out occasionally in
incidental allusions to it, like puffs of smoke and
jets of flame which issue from a house that is on fire
within. I recollect that Clay descended from the
speaker's chair, and made a brief speech, thrilling
the House by a single passage, in which he spoke
of "poor, unheard Missouri" — she being then with
out a representative in Congress. His tall, tossing
form, his long, sweeping gestures, and above all, his
musical, yet thrilling tones, made an impression upon
me which I can never forget. Some time after, in the
course of the debate, a tall man, with a little head and
a small, oval countenance like that of a boy prema
turely grown old, arose and addressed the chair. He

396 LETTP:KS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

paused a moment, and I had time to study his ap
pearance. His hair was jet black, and clubbed in a
queue ; his eye was black, small, and painfully pen
etrating. His complexion was a yellowish-brown,
bespeaking Indian blood. I knew at once that it
must be John Randolph. As he uttered the words,
"Mr. Speaker!" — every member turned in his seat,
and facing him, gazed as if some portent had sud
denly appeared before them. " Mr. Speaker" — said
he, in a shrill voice, which, however, pierced every
nook and corner of the hall — " I have but one word
to say ; one word, sir, and that is to state a fact.
The measure to which the gentleman has just allu
ded, originated in a dirty trick !" These were his
precise words. The subject to which he referred I
did not gather, but the coolness and impudence of
the speaker were admirable in their way. I never
saw better acting, even in Kean. His look, his man*
ner, his long arm, his elvish fore-finger — like an excla
mation-point, punctuating his bitter thought — showed
the skill of a master. The effect of the whole was to
startle everybody, as if a pistol-shot had rung through
the hall.*

* A remarkable instance of the license which Mr. Randolph allowed
to himself, occurred in the Senate, of which he was then a member,
Boon after Mr. Adams's accession to the presidency. In a discussion
which took place upon the " Panama Mission," Randolph closed a very
intemperate speech with the following words, on their face referring to
events which had occurred at a recent race-course, but, in fact, plainly
meaning the alliance between Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay :

'* I was defeated, horse, foot, and dragoons — cut up, clean broke down

HISTOKICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 397

Soon after Lowndes arose, and there was a general
movement of the members from the remote parts of the
room, toward him. His appearance was remarkable.
He was six feet two inches high — slender, bent, ema
ciated, and evidently of feeble frame. His complex
ion was sallow and dead, and his face almost without
expression. His voice, too, was low and whispering.
And yet he was, all things considered, the strong
man of the House ; strong in his various knowledge,
his comprehensive understanding, his pure heart, his
upright intentions, and above all, in the confidence
these qualities had inspired. Every thing he said was
listened to as the words of wisdom. It was he who
gave utterance to the sentiment that the " office of
president was neither to be solicited nor refused."
I was unable to hear what he said, but the stillness
around — the intent listening of the entire assembly —

by the coalition of Blifil and Black George — by the combination, unheard
of till then, of the Puritan with the Black-leg /"

The "Coalition," so much talked of at the time, charged Mr. Clay
with giving Mr. Adams his influence in the election to the presidency,
in consideration that lie was to be Secretary of State. This was Hive 1
with great vehemence and effect, both against Mr. Adams's administra
tion and Mr. Clay, personally. Randolph's endorsement of the charge,
at this time, fiendish as the manner of it was, seemed a staggering blow,
and Mr. Clay thought it necessary to call him to account for it. The
duel took place on the banks of the Potomac, but Randolph fired in
the air, and the difficulty was appeased.

No man in our history has been more discussed than John Kan-
el ol ph. lie was undoubtedly a man of genius, but, on the whole, both
in public and private, was an exceedingly dangerous example. !!••
said some good things, and sometimes seemed almost inspired, bin h:->
mind and heart were soured and narrowed by inherent physical defects,
which at last led to occasional lunacy. He died at Philadelphia in 1838,
aged 60.

398 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

bore testimony to the estimation in which he was
held. I never saw him afterward. About two years
later, he died on a voyage to England for the benefit
of his health, and thus, in the language of an emi
nent member of Congress, "were extinguished the
brightest hopes of the country, which, by a general
movement, were looking to him as the future chief-
magistrate of the nation."

These sketches, I know, are trifles ; but as this was
my first look at either branch of Congress, and as,
moreover, I had a glance at three remarkable men,
you will perhaps excuse me for recording my im
pressions.

In the Senate, the persons who most attracted my
attention were Kufus King, of New York, then hold
ing the highest rank in that body for able states
manship, combined with acknowledged probity and
great dignity of person, manner, and character ;
Harrison Gray Otis, whom I have already described ;
William Hunter, of Rhode Island, noted for his
agreeable presence and his great conversational pow
ers; William Pinkney,* of Maryland, the most dis-

* William Pinkney was a native of Annapolis, born 1764. He was
appointed to various European missions by the United States govern
ment, and held other eminent public stations. His greatest celebrity,
however, was attained at the bar, where he was distinguished alike for
learning and eloquence. He was a great student, and prepared himself
with the utmost care, thoughrhe affected to rely chiefly on his native
powers. A member of Monroe's Cabinet once told me that he heard
Pinkney, about five o'clock of a winter morning, reciting and commit
ting to memory, in his room, the peroration of a plea which he heard
delivered the same day before the Supreme Court !

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 399

tinguished lawyer of that era — a large, handsome
man, and remarkable for his somewhat foppish dress
— wearing, when I saw him, a white waistcoat, and
white-top boots ; and Mr. Macon, of North Carolina,
a solid, farmer-like man, but greatly esteemed for
combining a sound patriotism with a consistent polit
ical career. On the whole, the general aspect of the
Senate was that of high dignity, sobriety, and refine
ment. There were more persons of that body who
had the marks of well-bred gentlemen, in their air,
dress, and demeanor, than at the present day. In
manners, the Senate has unquestionably degenerated.
During the half hour in which I was present, there
was no debate. I went to the hall of the Supreme
Court, but the proceedings were without special in
terest. Among the judges were Marshall and Story,
both of whom riveted my attention. The former was
now sixty-four years old, and still in the full vigor of
his career. He was tall and thin, with a small face,
expressive of acuteness and amiability. His per
sonal manner was eminently dignified, yet his brow
did not seem to me to indicate the full force of his

His senatorial displays are said to have been often more florid than
profound. Soon after first taking his seat in the House of Kepresenta-
tives he made a speech, which was very brilliant, but rather pretentious
and dictatorial. John Randolph gave him a hint of this. He said :
" Mr. Speaker, the gentleman from Maryland" — then pausing, and
looking toward Pinkney, added — "I believe the gentleman is from
Maryland?" As Pinkney hud been ambassador to several courts in
Europe, and was the most conspicuous lawyer at the bar of the Supreme
Court, he felt this sarcasm keenly. When I saw him, he had just taken
his seat in the Senate ; two years afterward he died, aged fifty-seven.

400 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

great abilities and lofty moral qualities. I saw him
many times afterward, and learned to look with rev
erence upon him, as being the best representative
of the era and spirit of Washington, which lingered
among us.

I pass over several visits which I made at different
periods to the capital, and come to the winter of
1825, when J. Q. Adams was elected President by the
House of Eepresentatives. I was in the gallery of
that body at the time the vote was declared. The
result produced no great excitement, for it had been
foreseen for some days. The popular sentiment of the
country, however, was no doubt overruled by elect
ing to the chief- magistracy the second* of the three
candidates eligible to the office, and this was severely
avenged four years afterward at the polls. Mr. Ad
ams, with all the patronage of the government, was
displaced by his rival, Gen. Jackson, in 1828, by an
electoral vote of one hundred and seventy-eight to
eighty- three.

But it is not my purpose to load these light letters
with the weightier matters of politics. I only give an

* The electoral vote stood thus : for Gen. Jackson, ninety-nine; Mr.
Adams, eighty-four; Mr. Crawford, forty-one; Mr. Clay, thirty-seven.
It was perfectly constitutional to elect Mr. Adams, but the event showed
the difficulty of sustaining a President who has less than one-third of
the popular vote in his favor.

The vote in the House of Representatives was first declared by Daniel
Webster, and then by John Randolph. At the announcement that
Adams was elected, there was some clapping of hands and there were
some hisses, whereupon the galleries were cleared.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 401

outline of public events, which may serve as frames
to the personal tableaux which I wish to present to
your view. Let me take you, then, to the President's
levee, the evening of the 2d of February, 1825 — in
the afternoon of which Adams had triumphed and
Jackson had been defeated.

The apartments at the White House were thronged
to repletion — for not only did all the world desire to
meet and gossip over the events of the day, but this
was one of the very last gatherings which would take
place under the presidency of Monroe, and which
had now continued for eight years. It was the first
time that I had been present at a presidential levee,
and it was therefore, to me, an event of no ordinary
excitement.

The President I had seen before at Hartford, as I
have told you ; here, in the midst of his court, he
seemed to me even more dull, sleepy, and insignifi
cant in personal appearance, than on that occasion.
He was under size, his dress plain black, and a little
rusty ; his neckcloth small, ropy, and carelessly tied ;
his frill matted ; his countenance, wilted with age
and study and care. He was almost destitute of
forehead, and what he had, was deeply furrowed in
two distinct arches over his eyes, which were small,
gray, glimmering, and deeply set in large sock
Altogether, his personal appearance was owlish and
ordinary — without dignity, either of form or expres
sion; indeed, I could scarce get over the idea that

402 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

there was a certain look of meanness in his counte
nance. The lowness of his brow was so remarkable
that a person in the room said to me, in looking at
him — " He hasn't got brains enough to hold his hat
on !" His manners, however, which were assiduously
courteous, with a sort of habitual diplomatic smile
upon his face, in some degree redeemed the natural
indifference of his form and features. I gazed with
eager curiosity at this individual — seeking, and yet
in vain, to discover in his appearance the explana
tion of the fact that his presidency had been consid
ered as the era of a millennial truce between the great
parties whose strife had agitated the country to its
foundations ; and also of another fact — that he had,
like Washington, been elected to the presidency a
second time, almost without opposition. I could,
however, find no solution of these events in the
plain, homely, undemonstrative presence before me.
History has indeed given the interpretation — for we
know that, despite these traits in his personal ap
pearance, Mr. Monroe possessed a quiet energy of
character, combined with a sound and penetrating
judgment, great experience, and strong sense, which
rendered his administration in some respects emi
nently successful.

Mrs. Monroe appeared much younger, and was of
very agreeable manners and person. During the
eight years of her presidency over the sociabilities of
the White House, she exercised a genial influence in

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 403

infusing elegance and dignity into the intercourse of
the society which came under her sway.

I shall pass over other individuals present, only
noting an incident which respects the two persons in
the assembly who, most of all others, engrossed the
thoughts of the visitors — Mr. Adams the elect, Gen.
Jackson the defeated. It chanced in the course of
the evening that these two persons, involved in the
throng, approached each other from opposite direc
tions, yet without knowing it. Suddenly, as they
were almost together, the persons around, seeing
what was to happen, by a sort of instinct stepped
aside and left them face to face. Mr. Adams was by
himself; Gen. Jackson had a large, handsome lady on
his arm. They looked at each other for a moment,
and then Gen. Jackson moved forward, and reaching
out his long arm, said — " How do you do, Mr. Ad
ams ? I give you my left hand, for the right, as you
see, is devoted to the fair : I hope you are very well,
sir." All this was gallantly and heartily said and
done. Mr. Adams took the general's hand, and said,
with chilling coldness — "Very well, sir: I hope Gen.
Jackson is well !" It was curious to see the western
planter, the Indian fighter, the stern soldier who had
written his country's glory in the blood of the enemy
at New Orleans — genial and gracious in the midst of
,1 court, while the old courtier and diplomat was stiff,
rigid, cold as a statue ! It was all the more remark
able from the fact that, four hours before, the former

404 LETTERS' — BIOGRAPHICAL,

had been defeated, and the latter was the victor, in
a struggle for one of the highest objects of human
ambition. The personal character of these two indi
viduals was in fact well expressed in that chance
meeting : the gallantry, the frankness, and the hear
tiness of the one, which captivated all ; the coldness,
the distance, the self-concentration of the other, which
repelled all.*

* A somewhat severe but still acute analyst of Mr. Adams's character
says : " Undoubtedly, one great reason of his unpopularity was his cold,
antipathetic manner, and the suspicion of selfishness it suggested, or at
least aided greatly to confirm. None approached Mr. Adams, but to
recede. He never succeeded, he never tried to conciliate."

I recollect an anecdote somewhat illustrative of this. When he was
candidate for the Presidency, his political friends thought it advisable
that he should attend a cattle-show at Worcester, Mass., so as to concil
iate the numbers of influential men who might be present. Accordingly
he went, and while there many persons were introduced to him, and
among the rest a farmer of the vicinity — a man of substance and great
respectability. On being presented, he said —

"Mr. Adams, I am very glad to see you. My wife, when she was a
gal, lived in your father's family ; you were then a little boy, and she
has told me a great deal about you. She has very often combed your
head."

" Well," said Mr. Adams, in his harsh way — " I suppose she combs
yours now !" The poor farmer slunk back like a lushed hound, feeling
the smart, but utterly unconscious of the provocation.

Mr. Adams's course in the House of Representatives — to which lie
was elected for a series of years, after he had been President — was liablo
to great and serious exception. His age, the high positions he had
held, his vast experience and unbounded stores of knowledge, might
have made him the arbiter of that body. Such, however, was his love
of gladiatorial displays, that he did more to promote scenes of collision,
strife, and violence, in words and deeds, than any other member. I
remember one day to have been on the floor of the House, when he at
tacked Mr. Wise with great personality and bitterness. In allusion to
the Cilley duel, with which he was connected, he spoke of him as coming
into that assembly, " his hands dripping with blood !" There was a
terrible yarring tone in his voice, which gave added effect to the
denunciation. Every person present seemed to be thrilled with a sort

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 4:05

I pass over several years, and come to the period
when Jackson was President, at which time I was
often at Washington. It was a marked epoch, for
Webster, Calhoun, and Clay were then in the Senate.
It is seldom that three such men appear upon the
theater of action at the same time. They were each
distinct from the other in person, manners, heart,
constitution ; they were from different sections of the
country, and to some extent reflected the manners,
habits, and opinions of these diverse regions. They
were all of remarkable personal appearance: Web
ster of massive form, dark complexion, and thought
ful, solemn countenance; Clay, tall, of rather slight
frame, but keen, flexible features, and singular ease
and freedom in his attitudes, his walk, and his ges
tures. Calhoun was also tall, but erect, and rigid
in his form — his eye grayish blue, and flashing from
beneath a brow at once imperious and scornful. All
these men were great actors, not through art, but na
ture, and gave to the effect of their high intellectual
endowments, the added power of commanding per
sonal presence and singularly expressive counte
nances. They have passed from the stage, and all

of horror, rather toward Mr. Adams than the object of his reproaches.
In speaking of this scene to me afterward, an eminent member of Con
gress said, that "Mr. Adams's greatest delight was to be the hero of a
row." There is no doubt that the rude personal passages wliich often,
occur in the House of Representatives, derived countenance from Mr.
Adams's example. It is melancholy to reflect how a great intellect, and,
on the whole, a great life, were marred and dwarfed by inherent personal
defects.

406 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

that survives of them belongs to the domain of his
tory. Many of the speeches, now recorded in their
books, I heard and remember, with their lofty images
still painted in my eye and their thrilling tones still
echoing in my ear. Those who never heard them,
never saw them, will hereafter read and ponder and
admire the glowing words, the mighty thoughts they
have left behind ; but they can never compass the
conceptions which linger in the minds of those who
beheld them in the full exercise of their faculties, and
playing their several parts on their great theater of
life and action — the Senate of the United States.

Calhoun was educated in Connecticut, first gradu
ating at Yale College, and then at the Litchfield law
school. I have often heard his classmates speak of
him as manifesting great abilities and great ambi
tion, from the beginning. He was particularly
noted for his conversational powers, and a cordiality
of manners which won the hearts of all. He was
deemed frank, hearty, sympathetic. One of his inti
mates at Yale, told me that about the year 1812 he
was elected to Congress. Mr. Calhoun was then a
member, and one of the greatest pleasures his class
mate anticipated, was in meeting his college friend.
He was kindly received, but in the first interview,
he discovered that the heart of the now rising poli
tician was gone. He had already given up to am
bition what was meant for mankind.

Mr. Calhouii had, however, many friends in New

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 407

England, partly from the favorable impression he
made while residing there, and partly also from his
conduct during the earlier portion of his public career.
He had, indeed, promoted the war of 1812, but in
many of his opinions — especially in the support of
a navy — he coincided with the North. His admin
istration of the war department from 1817, during
the long period of seven years, was singularly suc
cessful, and everywhere increased his reputation as
a practical statesman. It is a curious circumstance,
explained by the facts I have just mentioned, that in
the election of 1824, while Jackson was defeated for
the presidency, Calhoun was still chosen vice-presi
dent, and mainly by northern votes.* Thus far his
measures, his policy, had been national ; but he soon
changed, and frequently shifting his position, lost the
confidence of his own party and of the country. For
the last fifteen years of his life, " he was like a strong
man struggling in a morass : every effort to extricate
himself only sinking him deeper and deeper." He has
passed away, leaving abundant evidences of his abil
ities, but with the sad distinction of having success
fully devoted the last years of his life to the estab
lishment of the doctrine in his own State and among
many of his admirers, that domestic Slavery is a good
and beneficent institution — compatible with the Con
stitution of the United States, and entitled to pro

* Mr. Calhoun had one hundred and fourteen votes from the non
•laveholding States, and sixty-eight only from the others.

408 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

tection and perpetuity beneath its banner ! What
a departure is this from the views and opinions of
the founders of our National Independence and the
Federal Union — Washington, Franklin, Jefferson,
and Madison I

Mr. Clay was also a supporter of the war of 1812,
and probably was, more than any other individual,
responsible for it. During its progress, he was the
eloquent defender of the administration, through its
struggles and disasters, and was hence the special
object of New England hostility. He, however, join
ed Mr. Adams, in 1825, and having contributed, by
his commanding influence, to his election, became his
Secretary of State. His policy upon the tariff after
ward brought him into harmony with the North, and
he was long the favorite candidate of the whigs for
the presidency. But he, too, like Calhoun, was a
man of " positions," and with all his abilities — with
all his struggles — he slipped between them, and fell,
without realizing the great object of his eager am
bition — the presidency.*

* There seems to have been a singular fatuity in Mr. Clay's great
measures — if we may be permitted to test them by time and their
result. He promoted the war, but was himself one of the negotia
tors of a peace with the enemy, without a single stipulation in regard
to the causes of the war, and this too after an expenditure of thirty
thousand lives and a hundred millions of dollars on our side, and prob
ably an equal expenditure on the other. The Missouri Compromise of
1820, which he so far favored as to gain the credit of it, has been re
cently expunged, leaving national discord and local civil war in its place.
The Compromise of 1833 was regarded by many of the eminent men in
the country, as one of the most disastrous political movements that could

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 409

The first time I ever saw Mr. Webster was on the
17th of June, 1825, at the laying of the corner-stone
of the Bunker Hill Monument. I shall never forget
his appearance as he strode across the open area, en
circled by some fifty thousand persons — men and
women — waiting for the " Orator of the Day," nor
the shout that simultaneously burst forth, as he was
recognized, carrying up to the skies the name of
"Webster!" "Webster!" "Webster!"

It was one of those lovely days in June, when the

have been devised, and by its inconsistency with his previous doctrines,
lost him forever the confidence of his best friends, especially at the
North. Mr. J. Q. Adams once told me that he considered this as a fatal
mistake on Mr. Clay's part, as he saved Mr. Calhoun without concilia
ting him, at the same time alienating many leading men throughout the
country who had before been devoted to him. The Compromise of 1850,
in which Mr. Clay was the chief, has already lost its force, and is likely
hereafter to be rather a source of agitation than of peace. His grand and
comprehensive system, to which he gave the name of "American,"
and which proposed to build up a mighty nation through a National
Bank, giving us a currency — Internal Improvements, promoting com
merce and binding the States in the bonds of union — the Tariff, to ren
der us independent of foreign nations in peace and in war — and the
Panama Mission, placing us at the head of the powers of this conti
nent, — all these have been trampled under foot by Jackson, and Van
Buren, and Polk, and Pierce, arid the People. They have been erased
from our policy, and their history is chiefly memorable for the ability
with which their great originator promoted them, and yet only to insure
the defeat of his own ambition. After a few brief years, Henry Clay will
be only known to the student of history, who looks beyond existing
monuments for testimonials of the giants of bygone generations. Even
his speeches, stirring as they were on those who heard them — having
no eminence in literature, no body and soul of general truth, reflection,
and philosophy, and little connection with current politics — will soon
be among the traditions of the past. The fallacy of Mr. Clay's career
lay in this— he created issues, founded schemes, planned systems, aa
the ladders of ambition ; the truer plan, even for ambition, is to make
truth and duty and principle the polar star of life and action.

VOL. II.— 18

410 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

sun is bright, the air clear, and the breath of nature
so sweet and pure as to fill every bosom with a grate
ful joy in the mere consciousness of existence. There
were present long files of soldiers in their holiday
attire ; there were many associations, with their mot-
toed banners ; there were lodges and grand lodges,
in white aprons and blue scarfs ; there were miles of
citizens from the towns and the country round about ;
there were two hundred gray-haired men, remnants
of the days of the Revolution ; there was among them
a stranger, of great mildness and dignity of appear
ance, on whom all eyes rested, and when his name
was known, the air echoed with the cry — " Welcome,
welcome, Lafayette !"* Around all this scene, was a

* I was at this time Master of the Lodge at Hartford, St. John's No.
4, and attended this celebration officially as a deputy from the Grand
Lodge of Connecticut. I recollect that when the lodges assembled at
Boston, Gen. Lafayette was among them. I had seen him before in Parib,
at a dinner on Washington's birthday, A. D. 1824, when he fir>t an
nounced his intention of coming to America. I afterward saw him,
both at Washington and Paris. I may mention a single anecdote, illus
trative of his tenderness of heart. While he was at Washington, Mr.
Morse — since so universally known as the inventor of the electric tele
graph — was employed to paint his portrait for the City Hall of New York.
One day, when the people were collecting in the hall of the hotel for
dinner, I saw Mr. Morse apart, in the corner of the room, reading a
letter. I noticed, in a moment, that he was greatly agitated. I went
to him, and asked him the cause. He could not speak ; he put the
letter into my hand, and staggered out of the room. - I looked over the
epistle, and saw that it contained the fatal intelligence of the death of his
wife, at New Haven, whom he had left there, in health, a few days be
fore. He felt it necessary to leave Washington immediately, and go to
his friends, and I agreed to accompany him. It was necessary that
this should be communicated to Lafayette. I went to him and told him
the story. He was very much affected, and went with me to see Mr.
Morse. He took him in his arms aud kissed him, and wept over him,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 4:11

rainbow of beauty such as New England alone can
furnish.

I have seen many public festivities and ceremoni
als, but never one, taken all together, of more general
interest than this. Every thing was fortunate : all
were gratified ; but the address was that which
seemed uppermost in all minds and hearts. Mr.
Webster was in the very zenith of his fame and of
his powers. I have looked on many mighty men —
King George, the " first gentleman in England ;"
Sir Astley Cooper, the Apollo of his generation ;
Peele, O'Connell, Palmerston, Lynd hurst — all nature's
noblemen ; I have seen Cuvier, Guizot, Arago,
Lamartine — marked in their persons by the genius
which have carried their names over the world ; I
have seen Clay, and Calhoun, and Pinkney, and
King, and Dwight, and Daggett, who stand as high
examples of personal endowment, in our annals, and
yet not one of these approached Mr. Webster in the
commanding power of their personal presence. There

as if ho had been his own child. Nothing could be more soothing
than this affectionate sympathy.

In Mr. Webster's discourse, which I have been noticing1, there was
a pasture addressed to Lafayette, which, I believe, is slightly altered in
the present printed copy. It was told as an anecdote, some years ago,
that he composed the discourse while fishing for cod off Nantasket
Beach. It would seem that as he came to the point of addressing La
fayette, he had a vigorous bite, and from habit, more than attention
to the business in hand, began to haul in. Just as the fish emerged
from the water, Mr. Webster went on thus — " Fortunate man ! the rep
resentative of two hemispheres — welcome to these shores !" — where
upon the huge fish was safely jerked into the boat. I can not vouch
for the authenticity of the story, but I tell it as too good to be lost.

412 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

was a grandeur in his form, an intelligence in his deep
dark eye, a loftiness in his expansive brow, a signifi
cance in his arched lip, altogether beyond those of
any other human being I ever saw. And these, on
the occasion to which I allude, had their full ex
pression and interpretation.

In general, the oration was serious, full of weighty
thought and deep reflection. Occasionally there
were flashes of fine imagination, and several passages
of deep, overwhelming emotion.* I was near the
speaker, and not only heard every word, but I saw
every movement of his countenance. When he came
to address the few scarred and time-worn veterans —
some forty in number — who had shared in the bloody
scene which all had now gathered to commemorate, he
paused a moment, and, as he uttered the words "Ven
erable men," his voice trembled, and I could see a
cloud pass over the sea of faces that turned upon the
speaker. When at last, alluding to the death of
Warren, he said —

* One incident, which occurred on this occasion, is worth mention
ing. I sat near two old men, farmers I should judge, who remained
with their mouths open from the beginning to the end of the oration.
Not a sentence escaped them. I could see reflected in their counte
nances the whole march of the discourse. When it was over, they rose
up, and having drawn a long breath, one said to the other — " Well, that
was good; every word seemed to weigh a pound /" While Mr. Webster
was in Europe in 1839, I wrote a series of anecdotical sketches of him,
published in the National Intelligencer, and among other things, reci
ted this incident. It found its way to England, and the London Times,
in describing Mr. Webster's manner in the speech he made at the Ox
ford Cattle Show, repeated this anecdote as particularly descriptive of
his massive and weighty eloquence.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 413

" But ah, Him !— the first great martyr of this
great cause. Him, the patriotic victim of his own
self-devoting heart. Him, cut off by Providence in
the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom :
falling ere he saw the star of his country rise — how
shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the ut
terance of thy name !" Here the eyes of the vet
erans around, little accustomed to tears, were filled
to the brim, and some of them "sobbed aloud in their
fullness of heart." The orator went on :

"Our poor work may perish, but thine shall en
dure : this monument may molder away, the solid
ground it rests upon may sink down to the level ot
the sea ; but thy memory shall not fail. Wherever
among men a heart shall be found that beats to the
transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations
shall claim kindred with thy spirit !"

I have never seen such an effect, from a single pas
sage : a moment before, every bosom bent, every
brow was clouded, every eye was dim. Lifted as
by inspiration, every breast seemed now to expand,
every gaze to turn above, every face to beam with a
holy yet exulting enthusiasm. It was the omnipo
tence of eloquence, which, like the agitated sea, car
ries a host upon its waves, sinking and swelling with
its irresistible undulations.

It was some years subsequent to this that I be
came personally acquainted with Mr. Webster. From
1836, to the time of his death, I saw him frequently,

414: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

sometimes in public and sometimes in private. I
have heard some of his great speeches, as well at
Washington as elsewhere, but I must say that his
conversation impressed me quite as strongly as his
public addresses. I once traveled with him from
Washington to Baltimore. During a ride of two
hours, he spoke of a great variety of subjects — agri
culture, horticulture, physical geography, geology —
with a perfectness of knowledge, from the minutest
details to the highest philosophy, which amazed me.
One thing I particularly remarked, he had no half
conceptions, no uncertain knowledge. What he knew,
he was sure of. His recollection seemed absolutely
perfect. His mind grasped the smallest as well as
the greatest things. He spoke of experiments he
had made at Marshfield in protecting trees, recently
planted, by interposing boards between them and the
prevailing winds, observing that these grew nearly
twice as rapidly as those which were exposed to the
full sweep of the blasts. He spoke of the recent
discoveries of geology — which had converted the
rocky lamina of the earth, hidden from the begin
ning, into leaves of a book, in which we could trace
the footprints of the Creator — with perfect knowl
edge of the subject, and a full appreciation of the
sublimity of its revelations.

At Baltimore, while sitting at table after tea, the
conversation continued, taking in a great variety ot
subjects. One of the ladies of our company asked

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 415

Mr. Webster if he chose Marshfield for a residence
because it was near the sea.

" Yes, madam," was the reply.

"And do you love the seashore?"

" Yes, I love it, yet not perhaps as others do. I
can not pick up shells and pebbles along the shore.
I can never forget the presence of the sea. It seems
to speak to me, and beckon to me. When I see the
surf come rolling in, like a horse foaming from the
battle, I can not stoop down and pick up pebbles.
The sea unquestionably presents more grand and
exciting pictures and conceptions to the mind, than
any other portion of the earth, partly because it is
always new to us, and partly, too, because of the
majestic movement of its great mass of waters. The
mystery of its depths, the history of its devastations,
crowd the mind with lofty images.

" * The armaments which thunderstrike the walls
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake,
And monarchs tremble in their capitals —
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make
Their clay creator the vain title take
Of lord of thee and arbiter of war :
These are thy toys, and as the snowy flake,
They melt into the yeast of waves, which mar
Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.

" ' Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
Glasses itself in tempests : in all time,
Calm or convulsed — in breeze or gale or storm,
Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime,

416 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Dark-heaving : boundless, endless, and sublime —
The image of Eternity — the throne
Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime
The monsters of the deep are made : each zone
Obeys thee • thou goest forth dread, fathomless, alone !'

I know of few descriptions of nature equal in sub
limity to that."

It is impossible to give any impression of the effect
of this passage, recited in low, solemn tones like the
bass of an organ, the brow of the speaker seeming to
reflect the very scenes it described.

Yet Mr. Webster was not always serious. In the
circle of intimate friends he was generally cheerful
and sometimes playful, not only relishing wit and
repartee, but contributing to it his proper share. I
have heard of one occasion in which he kept a full
table in a roar for half an hour with his sallies.
Many years ago there was a contested election in
Mississippi — the seats of two sitting members being
claimed by a Mr. Word and the famous orator, S. S.
Prentiss.* The two claimants came to Washington,

* S. S. Prentiss was a native of Maine, but removed to Mississippi,
where he soon distinguished himself as a brilliant orator. In the Har
rison Campaign of 1840, " he took the stump," and made a series of most
effective speeches, crowds gathering from many miles around, to hear
him. One day he met with a caravan of wild beasts, and it was suggested
that he should speak from the top of one of the wagons. He mounted
that of the hyenas, and as he was lame, and carried a strong cane, occa
sionally he poked this through a hole in the top and stirred up the hyenas
within. Prentiss had scathing powers of denunciation, and he was
unsparing in his sarcasms upon the administration of Jackson and his
»ucces5or Van Buren, which, as he insisted, had caused the ruin then

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 417

and argued their case before the House, but it was
dismissed, and they were sent back for a new elec
tion. Prentiss, however, had sustained himself with
so much ability, that before his departure a few of
his whig friends concluded to give him a dinner.
This was private, though some thirty persons were
present. Late in the evening, when all were warmed
with the cheer, Preston, of South Carolina, rose and
proposed this sentiment :

" Daniel Webster — a Northern man with Southern
principles !"

Mr. Webster, after a moment's hesitation, said :
" Mr. Chairman, I rise in obedience to the flattering
call of my good friend from South Carolina : Daniel
Webster — a Northern man with Southern principles !
Well, sir, I was born in New Hampshire, and there
fore I am a northern man. There is no doubt of that.
And if what the people say of us be true, it is
equally certain that I am a man of southern princi
ples. Sir, do I ever leave a heel-tap in my glass ?
Do I ever pay my debts? Don't I always prefer

desolating the country ; but when to his blasting sentences were added
the howlings of the hyenas, judiciously put in at the climaxes, it was
something more than words — it was "action, action, action !"

I remember once to have heard this famous orator, the same season,
at a whig meeting in Faneuil Hall, Edward Everett presiding. I hardly
knew which most to admire — the polished elegance, spiced with grace
ful and pertinent wit, of Everett, or the dashing splendor of Prentisri.
The one seemed like the fountain ofVelino playing amid Grecian M-ulp-
ture ; the other, a cataract of the Far West, fed from inexhaustible
fountains, and lighting whole forests with its crystals and its foam.

Mr. Prentiss died in 1850, greatly lamented, at the early ago of forty

18*

418 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

challenging a man who won't fight?" And thus he
went on in a manner more suitable to the occasion
than to these pages — until at last, amid roars of laugh
ter and shouts of applause, he sat down.

The countenance of Mr. Webster was generally
solemn, and even severe, especially when he was ab
sorbed in thought : yet when relaxed with agreeable
emotions, it was irresistibly winning. I have heard
an anecdote which furnishes a pleasing illustration of
this. At the time Mr. Wirt was Attorney-general,
Mr. Webster, having some business with him, went
to his office. Mr. Wirt was engaged for a few mo
ments at his desk, and asked Mr. Webster to sit down
a short time, when he would come to him. Mr. Web
ster did as requested, and for some moments sat look
ing moodily into the fire. At length one of Mr.
Wirt's children — a girl of six or eight years old —
came in, and thinking it was her father, went to Mr.
Webster, and putting her elbows on his knee, looked
up in his face. In an instant she started back,
shocked at her mistake, and appalled by the dark,
moody countenance before her. At the same mo
ment Mr. Webster became aware of her presence.
His whole face changed in an instant : a smile came
over his face ; he put out his hand, and all was so
winning, that the child, after hesitating a moment,
also smiled, and went back and resumed her confiding
position, as if it had indeed been her father.

That Mr. Webster had his faults, we all know ;

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 419

but the general soundness of his heart and character,
as well as the soundness of his intellect, are demon
strated by his works. These are an indestructible
monument, attesting alike his greatness and his good
ness. Among all these volumes, so full of thought,
so pregnant with instruction, so abounding in knowl
edge, there is not an impure suggestion, not a mean
sentiment, not a malicious sentence. All is patriotic,
virtuous, ennobling. And the truths he thus uttered
— how are they beautified, adorned, and commended
by the purity of the style and the elegance of the dic
tion ! In this respect there is a remarkable difference
between him and his great rivals, Clay and Calhoun.
Mr. Webster's works abound in passages which convey
beautiful sentiments in beautiful language* — gems of

* It would be easy to fill volumes with passages of tins sort: the
following, taken at random from Mr. Webster's published works, will
illustrate what I have said :

"Justice, sir, is the great interest of man on earth. It is the liga
ment which holds civilized beings and civilized nations together. Where
her temple stands, and so long as it is duly honored, there is a founda
tion for social (security, general happiness, and the improvement and
progress of our race."

"One may live as a conqueror, a king, or a magistrate, but he must
die as a man. The bed of death brings every human being to his purw
individuality; to the intense contemplation of that deepest and most
solemn of all reiulions, the relation between the Creator and the cre
ated."

"Real goodness does not attach itself merely to this life; it points
to another world."

" Kelitriou is the tie that connects man with his Creator, and holds
him to his throne. It' that tie be all sundered, all broken, he floats
n way, a worthless atom in the universe — its proper attractions all gone,
its destiny thwarted, and its whole future nothing but darkness, des
olation, and death."

Speaking at Valley Forge of the sufferings of the American army

420 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

thought set in golden sentences, fitting them to be
come the adornments of gifted and tasteful minds,
for all future time. With these other orators it is
not so : there is an earnest, direct, vigorous logic in
Calhoun, which, however, can spare not a sentence
to any subsidiary thought ; there is a warm, glowing,
hearty current of persuasion in Clay, yet he is too
ardent in the pursuit of his main design, to pause for

there, under Washington, in the winter of 1777-8, he described them
as " destitute of clothing, destitute of provisions, destitute of every
thing but their faith in God and their immortal leader."

" The slightest glance must convince us that mechanical power and
mechanical skill, as they are now exhibited in Europe and America,
mark an epoch in human history worthy of all admiration. Machinery
is made to perform what has formerly been the toil of human hands,
to an extent that astonishes the most sanguine, with a degree of power
to which no number of human arms is equal, and with such precision
and exactness as almost to suggest the notion of reason and intelligence
in the machines themselves. Every natural agent is put unrelentingly
to the task. The winds work, the waters work, the elasticity of metals
works ; gravity is solicited into a thousand new forms of action ; levers
are multiplied upon levers ; wheels revolve on the peripheries of other
wheels ; the saw and the plane are tortured into an accommodation to
new uses, and last of all, with inimitable power, and ' with whirlwind
sound,' comes the potent agency of steam."

" Steam is found in triumphant operation on the seas ; and under the
influence of its strong propulsion, the gallant ship,

'Against the wind, against the tide,
Still steadies with an upright keel.'

It is on the rivers, and the boatman may repose on his oars ; it is on
highways, and begins to exert itself along the courses of land convey
ance ; it is at the bottom of mines, a thousand feet below the earth's
surface ; it is in the mill, and in the workshops of the trades. It rows,
it pumps, it excavates, it carries, it draws, it lifts, it hammers, it spins,
it weaves, it prints."

" Whether it be consciousness, or the result of his reasoning facul
ties, man soon learns that he must die. And of all sentient beings, he
alone, as far as we can judge, attains to this knowledge. His Maker
has made him capable of learning this. Before he knows his origin

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 421

a moment to gather or scatter flowers by the wayside.
In all the works of these two great men, it is not
easy to select a page which may challenge admiration
on account of its artistic beauty, or because it en
shrines general truth and philosophy, so happily
expressed as to enforce them upon the worship of the
heart.

Of Mr. Webster's magnanimity, there are abundant

and destiny, he knows that he is to die. Then comes that most urgent
and solemn demand for light that ever proceeded, or can proceed, from
the profound and anxious breedings of the human soul. It is stated,
with wonderful force and beauty, in that incomparable composition, the
book of Job : ' For there is hope of a tree, if it be cut down, that it will
pprout again, and that the tender branch thereof will not cease ; that,
through the scent of water, it will bud, and bring forth boughs like a
plant. But if a man die, shall lie live again T And that question noth
ing but God, and the religion of God, can solve. Religion does solve it,
and teaches every man that he is to live again, and that the duties of
this life have reference to the life which is to come. And hence, since
the introduction of Christianity, it has been the duty, as it has been
the effort, of the great and the good, to sanctify human knowledge, to
bring it to the fount, and to baptize learning into Christianity ; to gath
er up all its productions, its earliest and its latest, its blossoms and its
fruits, and lay them all upon the altar of religion and virtue."

" I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts ; she needs none.
There she is. Behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is her his
tory ; the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There
is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill ; and there
they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, falling in the great
struggle for Independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every State,
from New England to Georgia; and there they will lie forever. And,
sir, where American Liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth
was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its
manhood and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall
wound it, if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it,
it' i'"M\ and madness, if uneasiness under salutary and necessary r«'-
struint, shall succeed in separating it from that Union by winch tiluno
its exisu-nee. is made Mire, it will stand, in the end, by the side of that
cradle in which its infancy was rocked; it will stretch forth its arm, with
whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who gather round

4:22 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

evidences. His whole course in the House as well as in
the Senate evinced it. He never displayed, because he
never felt that littleness of soul, which signalizes itself
in envy, and malice, and uncharitableness. Nothing
can be finer than the uniform dignity of his con
duct through a congressional period of more than
twenty years. But there are two instances of his
greatness of soul, which have appeared to me re
markable, and especially worthy of being recorded,
because they refer to those individuals, Clay and Cal-
houn, who of all others he might have been sup
posed to regard with feelings of aversion, if not of
hostility.

It is well remembered by all those who are con
versant with the history of the times, that Mr. Web
ster, then acting as Secretary of State in the Tyler
Cabinet, thought fit to continue in his place, when the

it ; and it will fall at last, if full it must, amid the proudest monuments
of its own glory, and on the very spot of its origin."

It is known that some of these fine passages were suddenly struck
out in the heat of debate ; others no doubt were polished and perfected
with care. On a certain occasion, Mr. Webster startled the Senate by
a beautiful and striking remark in relation to the extent of the British
empire, as follows : " She has dotted the surface of the whole globe with
her possessions and military posts, whose morning drum-beat, follow
ing the sun and keeping company with the hours, circle the earth dnily
with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England."

On going out of the Senate, one of the members complimented Mr.
Webster upon this, saying that he was all the more struck with it as it
was evidently impromptu. " You are mistaken," said Mr. Webster
" the idea occurred to me when I was on the ramparts of Quebec, some
mouths since. I wrote it down, and re-wrote it, and after several trials,
got it to suit me, and laid it by for use. The time came to-day, and so
I. put it in."

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC A L, ETC. 423

other members resigned. This conduct drew upon
him attacks from various quarters, and especially
from those who were known to take counsel of Mr.
Clay. It was manifest, as well from the bitterness as
the persistence of the onslaught, that the purpose was
to effect Mr. Webster's destruction as a public man.
This object was not accomplished, for it soon ap
peared to the world that he had been governed by
the highest motives of patriotism, in the course he
had adopted, and that he had indeed made it the
means of accomplishing a great national benefit — the
settling of the irritating and threatening question of
the " Maine boundary." In fact, Mr. Webster rather
gained than lost in the confidence of men whose opin
ions are of value, in spite of this conspiracy which
sought to overwhelm him.

In the spring of 1844, Mr. Clay, having been on
a trip to the South, came to Washington. He was
already indicated by public opinion as the whig can
didate for the presidency, and it seemed highly prob
able that the time had now come for the realization
of his known and cherished aspirations, in respect to
that high position. He was himself sanguine of suc
cess. On the 1st of May he was nominated at Bal
timore, by a whig convention, for the office in ques
tion, and the next day there was to be a grand rally
of young men, to ratify the nomination. It was sug
gested to Mr. Clay that it was eminently desirable
that Mr. Webster should add his influence in behalf

424 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

of the nomination ; but he is said to have felt that
he neither needed nor desired it. His friends, however,
thought otherwise, and a message was dispatched to
Mr. Webster, begging him to come on to the conven
tion, already gathering at Baltimore. This reached
him while he was dining at the Astor House, in New
York. He immediately left the table, and after a
brief communion with himself, departed, and arrived
in time to join his voice in a powerful speech, to the
enthusiasm of the occasion.

A very short period after this, the clouds began
to thicken in the political horizon. Mr. Polk had
been nominated, and the important State of Penn
sylvania was seen to be in danger of giving him her
vote. In this emergency, Mr. Webster was besought
to go there and address the people at Philadelphia,
and in the mining districts, where large masses were
congregated. Perfectly well knowing Mr. Clay's
sentiments and conduct toward him, he still went,
and made a series of addresses, among the most elo
quent that he ever uttered. In the course of these,
he had occasion to speak of Mr. Clay. It was a
delicate task, therefore, to do justice to his position,
as an advocate of Mr. Clay's candidacy, while at the
same time Mr. Clay's treatment of him was fresh in
the public mind. Yet with a tact, which does infi
nite credit to his good taste, and a magnanimity which
equally honors his heart, he spoke of Mr. Clay in the
following words : *(

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 425

" There are two candidates in the field, Mr. Clay of Kentucky,
and Mr. Polk of Tennessee. I shall speak of them both with
the respect to which their character and position entitle them ;
and at the same time with that freedom and candor which
ought to be observed in discussing the merits of public men,
especially those who are candidates for the highest office in the
gift of the people.

" Mr. Clay has been before the country for a long period,
nearly forty years. Over thirty years he has taken a leading
and highly important part in the public affairs of this country.
He is acknowledged to be a man of singular and almost univer
sal talent. He has had great experience in the administration
of our public affairs in various departments. He has served
for many years with wonderful judgment and ability, in both
houses of Congress, of one of which he performed the arduous
and difficult duties of its presiding officer, with unexampled skill
and success. He has rendered most important services to his
country of a diplomatic character, as the representative of this
government in Europe, at one of the most trying periods of our
history, and ably assisted to conduct to a satisfactory conclusion
a very delicate and important negotiation. He has performed
the duties of the department of State with ability and fidelity.
He is a man of frankness and honor, of unquestioned talent and
ability, and of a noble and generous bearing.

" Mr. Polk is a much younger man than Mr. Clay. Pie is a
very respectable gentleman in private life; he has been in Con
gress ; was once Speaker of the House of Representatives of the
United States, and once Governor of the State of Tennessee."

We may not only refer to this passage as evidence
of Mr. Webster's magnanimity of soul, but as a high
example of gentlemanly dignity — in the very heat of
an animated party discussion, not forgetting to render
justice even to an adversary.

426 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

In respect to Mr. Calhoun, Mr. Webster displayed
similar elevation of mind. It is matter of history
that, in the earlier periods of their congressional life,
these two men were drawn together by mutual ad
miration. But party exigences have no respect for
private feelings, and accordingly Mr. Calhoun joined
the conspiracy, which, in 1832, was formed to crush
Mr. Webster ; a measure which it was hoped to accom
plish through the eloquence of Mr. Hayne, assisted
by the united talent of the democratic party, at that
time powerfully represented in the Senate. That he
escaped, was owing to his own matchless abilities* —
for there is hardly an instance on record in which a
man, single-handed, has withstood and baffled and
punished so formidable a combination. For several
years immediately following, Mr. Webster was called
into an almost perpetual conflict with Mr. Calhoun —
from this point his stern, unflinching adversary. By
general consent, others stood aloof, almost in awe
of the conflict between these two champions. The
struggle furnishes some of the most remarkable pas
sages in our political history. But an event at last

* The "great debate" here alluded to, took place in the Senate, in
January, 1830. Colonel Hayne had attacked Mr. Webster with great
power, fortified as he was by facts, arguments, and suggestions, fur
nished by democratic members from all parts of the Union, and going
over Mr. Webster's whole political life. The reply was triumphant and
overwhelming, and is justly considered the greatest forensic effort which
our history supplies. There is, indeed, so far as I know, no speech
which equals it, if we regard the variety of its topics, the vast scope
of its leading considerations, the beauty and felicity of many of its pas
sages, and its completeness as a whole.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 427

arrived which was to put an end to the strife. Mr.
Calhoun, who had gradually been sinking under a
decay of health and constitution, expired at Washing
ton on the 31st of March, 1850. It was then that
Mr. Webster rose in the Senate and pronounced upon
him a eulogium, in which all his merits were beauti
fully set forth, without one of the many shadows
which truth might have furnished.

" Sir," said Mr. Webster, " the eloquence of Mr. Calhoun, or
the manner of his exhibition of his sentiments in public bodies,
was part of his intellectual character. It grew out of the quali
ties of his mind. It was plain, strong, terse, condensed, concise ;
sometimes impassioned, still always severe. Rejecting ornament,
not often seeking far for illustration, his power consisted in the
plainness of his propositions, in the closeness of his logic, and in
the earnestness and energy of his manner. These are the qual
ities, as I think, which have enabled him through such a long
course of years to speak often, and yet always command atten
tion. His demeanor as a Senator is known to us all — is appre
ciated, venerated by us all. No man was more respectful to
others; no man carried himself with greater decorum, no man
with superior dignity.

" Sir, I have not in public or in private life known a more
assiduous person in the discharge of his appropriate duties. He
seemed to have no recreation but the pleasure of conversation
with his friends. Out of the chambers of Congress, he was
either devoting himself to the acquisition of knowledge pertain
ing to the immediate subject of the duty before him, or else he
WM< indulging in some social interviews in which he so much
delighted. His colloquial talents were certainly singular and
eminent. There was a charm in his conversation not often
found. He delighted especially in conversation and intercourse
with young men. I suppose that there has been no man among

4:28 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

us who had more winning manners, in such an intercourse and
such conversation, with men comparatively young, than Mr.
Calhoun. I believe one great power of his character, in general,
was his conversational talent. I believe it is that, as well as a
consciousness of his high integrity, and the greatest reverence
for his talents and ability, that has made him so endeared an
object to the people of the State to which he belonged.

" Mr. President, he had the basis, the indispensable basis, of
all high character — and that was, unspotted integrity, unirn-
peached honor and character. If he had aspirations, they were
high, and honorable, and noble. There was nothing groveling,
or low, or meanly selfish, that came near the head or the heart
of Mr. Calhoun. Firm in his purpose, perfectly patriotic and
honest, as I am sure he was, in the principles that he espoused
and in the measures that he defended, aside from that large re
gard for that species of distinction that conducted him to emi
nent stations for the benefit of the Republic, I do not believe he
had a selfish motive or selfish feeling. However, sir, he may
have differed from others of us in his political opinions or his
political principles, those principles and those opinions will now
descend to posterity under the sanction of a great name. He
has lived long enough, he has done enough, and he has done it
so well, so successfully, so honorably, as to connect himself for
all time with the records of his country. He is now an historical
character. Those of us who have known him here will find that
he has left upon our minds and our hearts a strong and lasting
impression of his person, his character, and his public perform
ances, which while we live will never be obliterated. We shall
hereafter, I am sure, indulge in it as a grateful recollection, that
we have lived in his age, that we have been his contemporaries,
that we have seen him, and heard him, and known him. We
shall delight to speak of him to those who are rising up to fill
our places. And, when the time shall come that we ourselves
shall go, one after another, to our graves, we shall carry with us
a deep sense of his genius and character, his honor and integrity,

HISTORICAL, AJSTECDOTICAL, ETC. 429

his amiable deportment in private life, and the purity of his
exalted patriotism."

Was there not something grand and at the same
time affecting in a scene like this — a great man — all
selfish thought rebuked, all passed bitterness forgot
— uttering words like these, over the now prostrate
competitor with whom it had been his lot to wrestle
through long years of the bitterest party conflict ?

But I must draw this chapter to a close ; yet my
memory is, indeed, full of the images of other men
of mark whom I have seen upon the great stage of
action at Washington. Among them was William
Wirt, an able lawyer, an elegant writer, an accom
plished gentleman — and, at the time I knew him,
Attorney-general of the United States ; Mr. Forsyth,
Gen. Jackson's accomplished Secretary of State, at
whose house I remember once to have dined when
Mr. Benton, Isaac Hill, John M. Niles,* and others

* John M. Niles was a native of Windsor, Connecticut. He studied
law, and nettled at Hartford, devoting himself, however, to politics.
He was of small, awkward, and insignificant personal appearance, and
for this reason, probably, was for many years treated and regarded with
some degree of contempt, especially by the federalists, to whom lie was
politically opposed. I knew him well, and early learned to appreciate
the logical force of his understanding. He was associated in the Times
newspaper, and was probably, more than any other single person, the
instrument of overturning the federal party in the State, in 1817. He
now rose to various eminent public stations, at last becoming a Senator
of the United States, and for a short time Postmaster-general under Mr.
Polk. He had strong common sense, and close reasoning powers, which
operated with the precision of cog-wheels. Mr. Webster regarded his
speech upon the tariff, while he was in the Senate, as one of the very
ablest ever delivered upon that subject.

f must give a sketch of a scene in Mr. Forsyth's parlor, on the occasioii

430 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

were present; "John Taylor of Caroline," an able Vir
ginian statesman, and the very personification of old-
fashioned dignity and courtesy; Albert Gallatin, a
dark, swarthy man, with an eye that seemed to pene
trate the souls of all who approached him ; Henry R
Storrs,* a native of Connecticut, but a representative
from New York — one of the ablest debaters of his
day ; Hayne of South Carolina, the gallant but unsuc
cessful j ouster with Mr. Webster ; Burgess of Khode

above alluded to, as it presents a tableaux of three marked men. The
dinner had been finished for some time, but several of the gentlemen
lingered at the table. The ladies had retired, and made a considerable
semicircle around the fire in the parlor. Mr. Forsyth was in the middle
of this room, receiving the gentlemen as they came from the dining-
hall, and who, after a little conversation with him, bowed to the ladies
and took their leave.

At last Messrs. Benton, Hill, and Niles came from the dining-room
together, and stopped to converse with Mr. Forsyth. Mr. Hill, who was
very lame, said good-night to las host and went straight to the door,
without taking the slightest notice of the bright circle around the fire
side. Benton came next; but he is an old courtier, and therefore paid
his addresses to the ladies, beginning with Mrs. Meigs — Mrs. Forsyth's
mother — and bowing gracefully to each, was about to take his leave.
Niles came next. His first idea evidently was to follow the example of
Isaac Hill, but as Benton was actually performing his courtesies, he felt
it impossible wholly to disregard such a pattern. Setting out first for
the door, he soon diverged toward the fireside; when near the ladies,
he was suddenly seized with panic, and pulling out a red bandanna
handkerchief from his pocket, gave a loud blast upon his nose, shot out
of the door, and thus safely effected his retreat.

Mr. Niles died at Hartford in 1856, aged sixty-nine.

* Mr. Storrs was a native of Middletown, Connecticut, and brother of
the present Judge Storrs of that State. He was educated at Yale, and
was there considered a dull scholar, yet he early became eminent as a
lawyer and a statesman. He first settled at Utica, but afterward re
moved to the city of New York, where he died in 1837, aged forty-nine.
He was distinguished for various acquirements, great powers of dis
crimination, remarkable logical exactness, and a ready and powerful
elocution.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 431

Island — a man of prodigious powers of sarcasm, and
who made even John Kandolph quail ; Silas Wright
of New York, ever courteous, ever smiling — a giant
in strength, conquering his antagonists with such an
air of good-humor as to reconcile them to defeat :
these, and still others among the departed, live in my
memory, and were there time and occasion, would
furnish interesting themes of description and com
ment. Of those among the living — Crittenden, noted
for his close argument and polished sarcasm ; Benton
of Missouri, who has fought his way through many
prejudices, till he has attained the reputation of un
rivaled industry, vast acquisitions, and an enlarged
statesmanship ; Bell of Tennessee, always dignified
and commanding respect — these linger in my memory
as connected with the senate-chamber, where indeed
their chief laurels have been won. In the other house,
I have often seen and heard Winthrop, Gushing, Wise,
T. Marshall — all brilliant orators, and accustomed to
"bring down the House," when the spirit moved.

In the White House, I have seen Monroe and Ad
ams, and Jackson and Van Buren, and Harrison and
Tyler, and Taylor and Fillmore. How many memo
ries rise up at the mention of these names — associated
as they are in my mind with the brilliant throngs I
have seen at their levees, or with the public events
connected with their names, or the whirlpools of
party strife which I have seen fretting and foaming
at the periods of their election !

432 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

But I must forbear. A single domestic event
claims to be recorded here, and I shall then take
leave of Washington. I have told you that I had
come hither with my family. Among them was one
to whom existence had hitherto been only a bright,
unbroken spring. Gifted, beautiful, healthful, happy
— loving all and loved by all — he never suggested by
his appearance, an idea but of life, and enjoyment,
and success, and prosperity. Yet he was suddenly
taken from us. We mourned, though remembrances
were mingled with our grief which softened, if they
could not wholly remove it. His simple virtues,
faintly recorded in the following stanzas, are still
more indelibly written on our hearts :

A MEMORIAL.

Oh, tell me not that Eden's fall

Has left alike its blight on all—

For one I knew from very birth,

Who scarcely bore the stains of earth.

No wondrous bump of skull had he —

No mark of startling prodigy ;

His ways were gentle, tranquil, mild —

Such as befit a happy child —

With thoughtful face, though bland and fair —

Of hazel eye and auburn hair.

When with his mates in mirthful gl
A simple, joyous boy was he,
Whose harmless wit, or gentle joke,
A laughing echo often woke.

HiSTOKICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 4:33

He gaily joined the ardent chase,
And often woii the bantering race.
His sled, endowed with seeming skill,
Flew swiftest down the snowy hill;
And o'er the lake his gliding skates
Left far behind his panting mates.
Yet 'mid the strife the gentle boy
Caught only bliss, and no alloy.
The vulgar oath — th' offensive word —
The lie, the jeer, the scoff, he heard —
Yet none of these e'er soiled his tongue,
Or o'er his breast their shadow flung ;
No hidden vice, no lurking sin,
Told on his brow a curse within ;
And still, as years flew lightly o'er,
The stamp of truth and peace he bore.

If thus he loved the sportive mood,
Still more he loved alone to brood
Along the winding river's brim,
Through arching forests hoar and dim ;
Beside the ocean's shelly shore,
And where the surly cataracts pour.
Yet not an idle dreamer he,
Who wasted life in reverie ;
For ocean, forest, fall, and brook —
Each was to him a speaking book :
And thus, untaught, he gained a store
Of curious art and wondrous lore.
I oft have seen him in the wood,
Wrapt in a meditative mood —
Now gazing at the forest high,
Now searching flowers with heedful eye,
Now watching with inquiring view,
Each feathered craftsman as he flew —
VOL. II.- 19

434 LETTERS BIOGftAPHICAL,

Now studying deep the spider's thread,
With wondrous cunning twined and spread-
Now tracing out the beetle's den,
"Where sturdy insects work like men ;
Now on his knees o'er ant-hill bent,
Upon the bustling town intent ;
Now snatching with a skillful swoop,
From out the brook, a wriggling troop
Of tadpole, frog, and nameless wight,
O'er which he pored in strange delight.
And thus, all nature's varied lore
He loved to ponder o'er and o'er —
To watch alike, with studious gaze,
The insects and their wondrous ways:
The forest, with its flush of flowers —
The landscape, with its bloom of bowers —
The river, winding far away —
The ocean, in its ceaseless play —
The trembling stars, that seem to trace
God's footsteps o'er the depths of space !

And as in years lie older grew,

Still sterner science won his view :

From books he gathered hidden lore,

Though none saw how he gained his store.

Yet most he loved to break the seal

Of nature's secrets, and reveal

The wondrous springs that hidden lie

Within her deep philosophy —

In pulley, axle, wedge, and beam —

In trembling air and flowing stream.

His mind, with shrewd invention fraught,

His hand, with ready practice Avrought —

Constructing engines, sped by steam,

That flew o'er mimio rail and stream !

Olt h:\ve I seen him in th" wood,
riipi in a iiii-ilitauve niooj Vol 2. p. 434

I I I (. .

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 435

Meanwhile his room a shop became,
With lathe and bellows, forge and flame ;
And in the midst, as each could see,
Mechanic — chemist — all was he.

And thus with knowledge he was fraught,
Not by an instinct, but by thought —
Patient and tranquil — bent with care —
O'er many a book — a student rare.
And while he thus the useful knew,
He still was just and truthful too :
He loved the good, the dutiful —
The tasteful, and the beautiful ;
Still modest — simple — was his air ;
Still found he pleasure everywhere ;
Still found he friends on every hand :
The humble loved, for he was bland ;
The high admired, for all refined,
His look and manner matched his mind.
No envy broke his bosom's rest —
No pride disturbed his tranquil breast —
No praise he heeded, for he knew
To judge himself by standards true ;
And words to him were vain and waste,
If still unsatisfied his taste.

With rapid hand his pencil drew
Light sketches of the scenes he knew,
Which told how well his studious eye
Had traced the hues of earth and sky—
The playful change of light and shade
O'er rippling wave or spreading glade.
And music from his fingers swept
So sweet — so deep — the listener wept.
The tutored and untutored round,
In trembling trance, alike were bound ;

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OVrwfciA»f^li i tore

T» ssod. ate! tfctt tfcoee wfcolore

±-.L '.-'-? ---- J ::-.:~ \r :.- rjr.
His •otiber jeked, KOw now, my boyf
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HISTORICAL, AOTCDOrJCAL, ETC. r";7

1ETTER LTI.

mm i P*rif 1U*f fm

About the middle of April, 1851, I arrired in
Paris, and soon after took charge of the Consulate
there. As you know, I hare fivfwattj been in tins
gay city, and I now propose to gather up my recol
lect ions of it. and select therefrom a few hems which
may fill np the blank that yet remains in my story,
and in some degree contribute to yo«r amosement.

I first visited Paris in January. 1524, as I hare told
you. I had spent a month in Tondoa, which is always
a rather gloomy place to a stranger, and
peculiarly depressing. The people who hare
there, burrow into them, and Kgh*"^ their coal fires,
make themselves happy ; bat the
country, shut out from these cheerful
forced into the streets, grimed with dirt
below and incam.be red with bituminous logs abore,
feels that he is in a dreary wilderness, where man
and liiiiiM conspire to make him
melancholy. In most great cities, there

438 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

to cheer the new-comer : it is precisely the reverse
with London, and particularly at this dismal season.
Its finest streets, its most sumptuous squares, even
its noble monuments, which are not few, have al
ways a rather dull aspect, and in the pitchy atmo
sphere of winter, they seem to be in mourning, and
communicate their gloom to all around. St. Paul's,
incrusted with soot and dripping with an inky de
posit from the persistent fogs ; Nelson's monument,
black with coal-smoke, and clammy with the chill
death-damp of the season, — all these things — the very
ornaments and glories of the city — are positively
depressing, and especially to an American, accus
tomed to the transparent skies, the white snow-drifts,
the bracing, cheering atmosphere of his own winter
climate.

Paris is the very opposite of London. The latter
is an ordinary city, impressed by no distinctive char
acteristics, except its gloom and its vast extent. It is
little more than twenty Liverpools, crowded together,
and forming the most populous city in the world.
Paris, on the contrary, is marked with prominent and
peculiar traits, noticed at once by the most careless ob
server. On entering the streets, you are struck with
the air of ornament and decoration which belongs
to the architecture, the effect of which is heightened
by the light color of the freestone, the universal
building material. The sky is bright, and the peo
ple seem to reflect its cheerfulness. The public gar-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 439

dens and squares, surrounded with monuments of art
and teeming with men, women, and children, inclu
ding abundance of rosy nurses and plump babies, all
apparently bent on pleasure, and this, too, in mid
winter — are peculiar and striking features of this gay
metropolis. To an American who has just left Lon
don, his heart heavy with hypochondria, Paris is in
deed delightful, and soon restores him to his wonted
cheerfulness.

At the time I first arrived here, this city was, how
ever, very different from what it now is. Louis
XVIII. was upon the throne, and had occupied it for
nine years. During this period he had done almost
nothing to repair the state of waste and dilapidation
in which the allies had left it. These had taken down
the statue of Napoleon on the column of the Place
Yen dome, and left its pedestal vacant ; the king had
followed up the reform and erased the offensive name
of the exiled emperor from the public monuments,
and put his own, Louis XVIIL, in their place; he had
caused a few churches to be repaired, and some pic
tures of the Virgin to be painted and placed in their
niches. But ghastly mounds of rubbish — the wrecks
of demolished edifices — scattered heaps of stones at
the foot of half-built walls of buildings, destined
never to be completed, — these and other unsightly
objects were visible on every hand, marking the re
cent history of Napoleon, overthrown in the midst
of his mighty projects, and leaving his name and his

440 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

works to be desecrated alike by a foreign foe and a
more bitter domestic adversary.

The king, Louis XVIII., was a man of good sense
and liberal mind, for one of his race; but he was
wholly unfit to administer the government. He was
a sort of monster of obesity, and, at the time I speak
of, having lost the use of his lower limbs, he could
not walk, and was trundled about the palace of the
Tuileries in a cripple's go-cart. I have often seen
him let down in this, through the arch in the south
eastern angle of the palace, into his coach, and re
turning from his ride, again taken up, and all this
more like a helpless barrel of beef than a sovereign.
Had the allies intended to make legitimacy at once
odious and ridiculous, they could not better have
contrived it than by squatting down this obese, im
becile extinguisher upon the throne of France, as the
successor of Napoleon !

The Parisians are, however, a philosophic race : as
they could not help themselves, they did not spend
their lives like children, in profitless poutings. They
had their jokes, and among these, they were accus
tomed to call Louis Dix-huit, Louis des hidtres — a tol
erable pun, which was equivalent to giving him the
familiar title of Old Oyster Louis. Deeming it their
birthright to have three or four hours of pleasure
every day — whoever may be in power — they still fre
quented the promenades, the Boulevards, and the
theaters. When, therefore, I first visited the gardens

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC.

of the Tuileries of a bright Sunday afternoon, and im
mediately after quitting the "dull fuliginous abyss"
of London, the scene seemed to me like enchant
ment. I find my impressions thus chronicled in my
notes :

•

" Weather fine, bright, and mild ; some shrubs still
green, and many flowers yet in bloom ; jets of fount
ains playing in the sunshine ; too early in the day for
a great throng, yet a great many people here ; all have
a quiet, sauntering look ; hundreds of tidy nurses,
with bare arms and neat caps on their heads, the
children they carry about being richly dressed, their
little rosy cheeks imbedded in lace ; the ladies taste
fully attired, and walking with a peculiar air of grace
— very sentimental and modest in their countenances
— never look at you, as they do in London ; very
provoking. There is no Sunday air in the scene,
but rather that of a calm pleasure-day ; children are
rolling hoops ; one boy making a dirt pie ; two dogs,
which have probably been shut up for a week, hav
ing a glorious scamper; wild-pigeons cooing above in
the tree-tops ; sparrows hopping about on the green
sod at the foot of the statues of Flora and Diana,
and picking up crumbs of bread thrown to them by
the children ; a number of old men in the sunshine,
sheltered by a northern wall, reading newspapers ;
several nurses there, sunning their babies ; palace of
the Tuileries of an architecture never seen in America,
but still imposing ; the Hue de Rivoli on the north,

19*

442 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

superb ; the Place Louis Quinze,* fine ; the mint and
other edifices along the opposite bank of the Seine,
beautiful. Wonderful place, this Paris; different
from any thing I have seen. It seems devised, in
its sky, its edifices, its decorations, its ornaments,
for a tasteful and pleasure-loving people. Even I, a
wanderer, feel no sense of solitude, of isolation, here.
London is repulsive, and seems continually to frown
upon the stranger as an outcast ; Paris smiles upon
him and welcomes him, and makes him feel at home.
The genial spirit of the French nation speaks in this,
its capital : just as the temper and spirit of John Bull
seem to be built into the brick and mortar of the
streets of London."

I can not, perhaps, do better than to give you a
few more passages from the hasty jottings I made at
the time.

" February 6 — Washington Irving returned our
call. Strikingly mild and amiable ; dress — claret
coat, rather more pigeon-tailed than the fashion at
New York ; light waistcoat ; tights ; ribbed, flesh-
colored silk stockings ; shoes, polished very bright.
This a fashionable dress here. He spoke of many

* This is now the Place de la Concorde, and is one of the most beau-
ifnl squares in the world. In the center is the famous obelisk of Lux
or : from this point four superb works of architecture are seen at the
ibur cardinal points— to the west, through the avenue of the Champs
/Clisees, is the Arc de Triomphe de 1'Etoile ; to the north, the Church of
the Madeleine ; to the east, the Palace of the Tuileries ; to the south, the
Chamber of Deputies.

HISTOEICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 443

things, all in a quiet manner, evidently with a fund
of feeling beneath.

" February 14 — Went with Mr. Warden* to a meet
ing of the ' Societe Philomatique,' composed of mem
bers of the Institute ; saw Fourier, the famous geo
metrician and physician ; he accompanied Napoleon
to Egypt ; wears a great brown wig ; a dull, clumsy
speaker : Thenard, a famous chemist, associated with
Gay-Lussac ; looks about forty : Larrey ; has long
black hair parted on the forehead, with an air of
gravity and solidity, mingled with simplicity ; spoke
slowly, but with great clearness. Bonaparte said he
was the most honest man he ever knew. He ac
companied the expedition to Egypt ; is still a dis
tinguished surgeon, and in full practice. Poisson,
one of the first mathematicians in Europe ; he has a
very fine head and splendid eye — seems about forty-
eight : Geoff roy St. Hilaire, a zoologist, second only
to Cuvier ; a bustling, smiling man, of very demon
strative manner ; he had two huge fish-bones, which
he used for the purpose of illustrating his observa
tions. He was also in the Egyptian expedition, and
contributed largely to its scientific results. He seem
ed about forty-eight, and was listened to with great

* Mr. David Bailie Warden, who had been Secretary of Legation when
Gen. Armstrong was Minister to Holland, was at this time Consul of the
United States at Paris. lie was a native of Ireland, but hud become an
American citizen. He was a corresponding member of the Institute,
and was a man of considerable scientific and literary acquirements. He
wrote a clever History of the United States. Ho died at Paris in 1845,
aajod 67.

44:4: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

attention. Bosc, a celebrated agriculturist, botanist.
&c., old, respectable, gentlemanly.

" The proceedings were conducted with order and
simplicity, forming a striking contrast to the pomp
ous declamation I heard in London, in the Academy
of Arts, upon hatching eggs.

" February 16 — Went with Mr. Warden to a meet
ing of the Institute, held in the Hotel Mazarin : one
hundred and fifty members present. Arago, presi
dent ; he is tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing in
appearance, with a dark, swarthy complexion, and a
black, piercing eye. Lamarck, the famous writer on
natural history — old, infirm, blind — was led in by
another member — a distinguished entomologist, whose
name I have forgotten ; Fontaine, the architect — tall,
homely, and aged : Gay-Lussac, a renowned chemist,
under forty, active, fiery in debate : Cuvier, rather a
large man, red face, eyes small, very near-sighted ;
eyes near together and oddly appearing and dis
appearing ; features acute, hair gray, long, and care
less ; he spoke several times, and with great perti
nency and effect : Lacroix, the mathematician, old,
and looks like a '76er : Laplace, the most famous
living astronomer, tall, thin, arid sharp-featured — re
minded me of the portraits of Yoltaire ; he is about
seventy -five, feeble, yet has all his mental faculties.

"The principal discussion related to gasometers,
the police of Paris having asked the opinion of the
Institute as to the safety of certain new kinds, lately

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 445

introduced. The subject excited great interest, and
the debate was quite animated. Thenard, Gay-Lus-
sac, Girard, Laplace, Cuvier, and others, engaged in
the debate. Nearly all expressed themselves with
great ease and even volubility. They were occasion
ally vehement, and when excited, several spoke at
once, and the president was obliged often to ring his
bell to preserve order.

" It was strange and striking to see so many old
men, just on the borders of the grave, still retaining
such ardor for science as to appear at a club like this,
and enter with passion into all the questions that
came up. Such a spectacle is not to be seen else
where, on the earth. The charms of science gen
erally fade to the eye of threescore and ten ; few
passions except piety and avarice survive threescore.
It is evident, in studying this association, that the
highest and most ardent exercises of the mind are
here stimulated by the desire of glory, which is the
reward of success. One thing struck me forcibly in
this assembly, and that was the utter absence of all
French foppery in dress, among the members. Their
attire was plain black, and generally as simple ;is
that of so many New England clergymen.

" In the evening, went to the Theatre Francais, to
see Talma in the celebrated tragedy of Sylla, by Jouy.
Did not well understand the French, but could see
that the acting was very masterly. Had expected a
great deal of rant, but was agreeably disappointed. In

44:6 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

the more passionate parts there was a display of vigor,
but at other times the performance was quiet and nat
ural — without any of the stage-exaggeration I am ac
customed to. Most of the scenes were such as might
actually take place, under the circumstances indicated
in the play. Talma is said to resemble Napoleon in
person ; he certainly looked very much like his por
traits. His hair was evidently arranged to favor the
idea of resemblance to the emperor. He is a very
handsome man, and comes up to my idea of a great
actor.

"February 20th — Went to see a new comedy by
Casimir Delavigne, " L'Ecole des Yieillards." Talma
and Mademoiselle Mars played the two principal parts.
The piece consisted of a succession of rather long dia
logues, without any change of scenery. The whole
theater had somewhat the quiet elegance of a parlor.
There were no noisy disturbers ; there was no vul
garity — no boisterous applause. The actors appeared
like groups of genteel people, conversing, as we see
them in actual life. There was nothing very exciting
in the situations, nothing highly romantic in the plot
or denouement. The interest of the play consisted in
playful wit, sparkling repartee, and light satire upon
life and society — represented by the most beautiful
acting I have ever seen. Talma is inimitable in the
character of a refined but somewhat imbecile man,
who has passed the prime of life ; and Mademoiselle
Mars is, beyond comparison, the most graceful and

HISTORICAL, ANEODOTICAL, ETC. 447

pleasing of actresses. I am struck with the strict
propriety, the refinement even of the manners of the
audience. The whole entertainment seems, indeed,
to be founded upon a very different idea from that of
the English stage, which is largely adapted to delight
the coarse tastes of the pit. Here the pit — called the
parterre — is rilled with people of refinement.

"February 21st— Went to the Hospital of La Cha-
rite. Saw Laennec, with his pupils, visiting the pa
tients. He makes great use of the stethoscope, which
is a wooden tube applied to the body, and put to the
ear : by the sound, the state of the lungs and the vital
organs is ascertained. It is like a telescope, by which
the interior of the body is perceived, only that the ear
is used instead of the eye. It is deemed a great im
provement. Laennec is the inventor, and has high
reputation in the treatment of diseases of the chest.
He has learned to ascertain the condition of the lungs
by thumping on the breast and back of the patient,
and putting the ear to the body at the same time.
He is a little man, five feet three inches high, and
thin as a shadow. However, he has acute features,
and a manner which bespeaks energy and conscious
ness of power.

" The whole hospital was neat and clean ; bed
steads of iron. French medical practice very light ;
few medicines given ; nursing is a great part of the
treatment. Laennec's pupils followed him from pa
tient to patient. He conversed with them in Latin.

44:8 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

One of the patients was a handsome, black-eyed girl,
not very sick. All the young men must apply the
stethoscope to her chest ; she smiled, and seemed to
think it all right.

" Same day, went to the Hotel Dieu, a medical and
surgical hospital. Saw Dupuytren and his pupils,
visiting the patients. He is a rather large man,, of a
fine Bonapartean head, but sour, contumelious looks*
He holds the very first rank as a surgeon. His op
erations are surprisingly bold and skillful. Edward

C , of Philadelphia, who is here studying medicine,

told me a good anecdote of him. He has a notion that
he can instantly detect hydrocephalus in a patient,
from the manner in which he carries his head. One
day, while he was in the midst of his scholars at the
hospital, he saw a common sort of man standing at a
distance, among several persons who had come for
medical advice. Dupuytren's eye fell upon him, and
he said to his pupils — ' Do you see yonder, that fellow
that has his hand to his face, and carries his head al
most on his shoulder ? Now, take notice : that man
has hydrocephalus. Come here, my good fellow !'

u The man thus called, came up. * Well,' said Du
puytren — ' I know what ails you ; but come, tell us
about it yourself. What is the matter with you ?'

" 'I've got the toothache!' was the reply.

" ' Take that' — said Dupuytren, giving him a box
on the ear — ' and go to the proper department and
have it pulled out !' "

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC 449

LETTER LVII.

Death of Louis XVIIL— Charles X.—The " Three Glorious Days"— Louis
Philippe — The devolution, of February, 1848.

MY DEAK C******

I was again in Paris in the summer of 1832.
Great changes had taken place since 1824 : Louis
XVIII. was dead ; Charles X. had succeeded, and
after a brief reign had been driven away by the rev
olution of the " Three Glorious Days." Louis Phi
lippe was now on the throne. On the 29th of July,
and the two following days, we saw the celebration
of the event which had thus changed the dynasty of
France. It consisted of a grand fete, in the Champs
Elysees, closed by a most imposing military spectacle,
in which eighty thousand troops, extending from the
Arc de Triomphe to the Place Vendome, marched be
fore the admiring throng. Louis Philippe was him
self on horseback as commander-in-chief, and such
was his popularity among the masses that, in many
instances, I saw men in blouses rush up and grasp
his hand, and insist upon shaking it. Sixteen years
after, I saw him hustled into a cab, and flying from
the mob for his life — his family scattered, and he but
too happy to get safe to England in the disguise of a
sailor 1

As I have told you, I established my family in

4-50 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Paris in 1846 ; that winter and the following I was
also there. I remember that on a certain Monday in
February, 1848, I went up to see our countrywoman,
the Marchioness Lavalette, to arrange with her about
an introduction she had promised me to Guizot. She
was not at home, but as I was coming down the hill
from the Place St. George, I met her in her carriage.
She asked me to walk back to her house, and I did
so. I observed that she was much agitated, and
asked her the cause. " We are going to have
trouble!" said she. "I have just been to the Cham
bers : the ministry have determined to stop the meet
ing of the liberals to-morrow ; the proclamation is
already being printed."

"Well, and what then?" said I.

" Another ' Three Glorious Days !' "

To this I replied that I conceived her fears ground
less ; that Louis Philippe appeared to me strong in
the confidence of the people ; that he was noted for
his prudence and sagacity; that Guizot, his prime
minister, was a man of great ability ; that the whole
cabinet, indeed, were distinguished for their judg
ment and capacity. The lady shook her head, and
rejoined —

" I know Paris better than you do. We are on
the eve of an earthquake 1"

Soon after this I took my leave. What speedily
ensued, may best be told in a letter I addressed to a
friend in Boston, and which was as follows :

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 451

PARIS, March 14th, 1848.

As it has been my fortune to be in Paris, and an observer of
many of the most stirring and striking occurrences during the
late revolution, I propose to give you a brief consecutive narra
tive of what I saw and heard, embracing a sketch of other lead
ing events. My purpose will be to take you with me, and make
you a participator, as far as possible, in the scenes witnessed and
emotions experienced by one who was on the spot.

Before I begin, it may be well to state a few particulars as to
the political condition of France at the moment of the revolt.
It is well known that Louis Philippe accepted the crown at the
hands of Lafayette, after the struggle of July, 1830, the latter
saying, as he presented the king and charter to the people —
" We give you the best of monarchies — the best of republics!"
The circumstances, all considered, pledged Louis Philippe to a
liberal government, in which the good of the people should be
the supreme object, and the popular will the predominating
element.

He commenced his career under fair auspices, and for a time
every thing promised a happy fulfillment of what seemed his
duty and his destiny. But by degrees a great change came over
the monarch ; the possession of power seduced his heart, and
turned his head ; and forgetting his pledges, and blind to his
true interest, he set himself to building up a dynasty that should
hand down his name and fame to posterity.

It seemed, at a superficial glance, that he might realize his
dream. He had acquired the reputation of being the most saga
cious monarch of his time. He had improved and embellished
the capital ; on all sides his " image and superscription" were
seen in connection with statues, fountains, edifices, and WOfka
of beauty and utility. France was happier than the adjacent
countries. The famine and the pestilence, that had recently
desolated neighboring states, had trod more lightly here. The
king was blessed with a large family. These had all reached
maturity, and were allied to kings and queens, princes and prin-

452 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

cesses. The upholders of the crown in the parliament, were
men whose names alone were a tower of strength. Peace
reigned at home, and the army abroad had just succeeded in
achieving a signal triumph over an enemy that had baffled them
for seventeen years.*

Such was the outward seeming of affairs; but there were
threatening fires within, which might at any moment produce a
conflagration. Many thinking people were profoundly disgusted
with the retrograde tendency of the government, with the cor
ruption of its officers, the gradual subsidizing of the legislature
by the crown, and the concentration of all the powers of the
state in the hands of one man, who was now using them for
family aggrandizement. Although the inarch of despotism had
been cautious and stealthy, the plainest mind could see, and in
deed the people generally began to feel, many galling evidences
of the tyranny to which they had become actually subjected.

Among these grievances, were the constant increase of the
national debt, and consequent increase of taxation, with the
restraints put upon the liberty of the press and of speech. By
a law of some years' standing, the people were prohibited from
holding stated meetings of more than twenty persons, without
license; and reform banquets, or meetings for the discussion of
public affairs — of which about seventy had been held, in differ
ent parts of the kingdom, within the last year — were now pro
nounced illegal by the ministry. Finally, a determination to sup
press one of them, about to be held in the twelfth ward of Paris,
was solemnly announced by them in the Chamber of Deputies.

It is material to bear in mind, that there are always in this
metropolis at least one hundred thousand workmen, who live
from day to day upon their labor, and who, upon the slightest
check to trade, are plunged into poverty, if not starvation. At
the moment of which we are speaking, this immense body of

* Abd-el-Kadir, who had been the indomitable leader of the Arabs
of the Desert, against the .French, who had conquered Algiers, surren
dered to Gen. Lamoriciere, December 22d, 1847.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 453

men, with their families, were suffering sorely from the stagna
tion of business in the capital. There were not less than two
hundred thousand persons who, for the space of three months,
had hardly been able to obtain sufficient food to appease the
cravings of hunger. How easy to stir up these people to rebel
lion ! — how natural for them to turn their indignation against
the king and his government ! The opposition members seized
the occasion now afforded them, to excite these discontented
masses against the ministry; and it may be added that the
latter, by their rashness, did more than their enemies to prepare
the mine and set the match to the train.

The crisis was now at hand. The opposition deputies declared
their intention to attend the proposed meeting ; and in spite of
the threats of the ministry, the preparations for the banquet
went vigorously on. A place was selected in the Champs Ely-
sees, and a building was in progress of erection for the celebra
tion. The programme of the same was announced, the toast for
the occasion was published, the orator, 0. Barrot, selected. The
day was fixed — an ominous day for tyranny — an auspicious one
for human freedom. It was the 22d of February, the birthday
of Washington! Whether it has received a new title to its place
in the calendar of liberty, must be left for the decision of time.

The evening of the 21st came, and then proclamations were
issued by the co-operation of the ministry and the police, prohib
iting the banquet. This act, though it had been threatened, still
fell like a thunderbolt upon the people. It was known that an
immense military force had been quietly assembled in Paris and
the vicinity — eighty thousand troops, with artillery and ample
munitions — and that the garrisons around the Tuileries had
been victualed as if for a siege. But it had not been believed
that an attempt to stifle the voice of the people, so bold as this,
would really be made. Yet such was the fact. The leaders of
the opposition receded from their ground, and it was announced,
in the papers of the 22d, that the banquet, being forbidden by
the government, would not take place 1

454: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

The morning of this day was dark and drizzly. I had antici
pated some manifestation of uneasiness, and at half-past nine
o'clock went forth. Groups of people were reading the procla
mations posted up at the corners of the streets, but all was
tranquil. I walked along the Boulevards for a mile, yet saw no
symptoms of the coming storm.

The designated place of meeting for the banquet was the
square of the Madeleine. This is at the western extremity of
the Boulevards, and near the great central square, called the
Place de la Concorde — a point communicating directly with the
Chamber of Deputies, the Champs Elysees, the gardens of the
Tuileries, &c. At eleven o'clock, A. M., a dark mass was seen
moving along the Boulevards, toward the proposed place of
meeting. This consisted of thousands of workmen from the
faubourgs. In a few moments the entire square of the Madeleine
was filled with these persons, dressed almost exclusively in their
characteristic costume, which consists of a blue tunic, called
House — a garment which is made very much in the fashion cf
our farmers' frocks.

The opening scene of the drama had now begun. The mass
rushed and eddied around the Madeleine, which, by the way,
is the finest church and the finest edifice in Paris. Such was
the threatening aspect of the scene, that the shops were all sud
denly shut, and the people around began to supply themselves
with bread and other food, for " three days." In a few moments,
the avalanche took its course down the Rue Royale, swept
across the Place de la Concorde, traversed the bridge over the
Seine, and collected in swelling and heaving masses in the Place,
or square, before the Chamber of Deputies. This building is
defended in front by a high iron railing. The gate of this was
soon forced, and some hundreds of the people rushed up the long
flight of steps, and pausing beneath the portico, struck up the
song of the Marseillaise — a song, by the way, interdicted by law
on account of its exciting character. The crowd here rapidly
increased ; shouts, songs, cries, filled the air. East and west,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 455

a7~>ng the quays, and through the streets behin the Chamber,
came long Hues of students from the various schools. Standing
upon one of the pillars of the bridge, I commanded a view of
the whole scene. It was one to fill the heart with the liveliest
emotions. A hundred thousand people were now collected,
seeming like an agitated sea, and sending forth a murmur resem
bling the voice of many waters. From the southern gate of the
Tuileries now issued two bodies of troops — one, on horseback,
coming along the northern quay. These were the Municipal
Guard, a magnificent corps, richly caparisoned, and nobly
mounted. Being picked men, and well paid, they were the
chief reliance of the government, and for that very reason were
haled by the people. The other body of troops were infantry
of the line, and crossing the Pont Royal, came along the south
ern bank of the river. Both detachments approached the mul
titude, and crowding upon them with a slow advance, succeeded
at last in clearing the space before the Chamber.

The greater part of the throng recrossed the bridge, and
spread themselves over the Place de la Concorde. This square,
perhaps the most beautiful in the world, is about five acres in ex
tent. In the center is the far-famed obelisk of Luxor ; on either
side of this is a splendid fountain, which was in full action du
ring the scenes we describe. To the east is the garden of the
Tuileries ; to the west are the Champs Elysees. This vast area,
so associated with art, and luxury, and beauty, was now crowd
ed with an excited populace, mainly of the working classes.
Their number constantly augmented, and bodies of troops, foot
and horse, arrived from various quarters, till the square was
literally covered. The number of persons here collected in one
mass was over one hundred thousand.

At the commencement, the mob amused themselves with
songs, shouts, and pasquinades ; but in clearing the space before
the Chamber, and driving the people across the bridge, the
guards had displayed great rudeness. They pressed upon the
masses, and one woman was crushed to death beneath the hoofs

456 LETTPJKS BIOGRAPHICAL,

of the horses. Pebbles now began to be hurled at the troops
from the square. Dashing in among the people, sword in hand,
the cavalry drove them away; but as they cleared one spot,
another was immediately filled. The effect of this was to chafe
and irritate the mob, who now began to seize sticks and stones
and hurl them in good earnest at their assailants.

While this petty war was going on, some thousands of the
rioters dispersed themselves through the Champs Elysees, and
began to build barricades across the main avenue. The chairs,
amounting to many hundreds, were immediately disposed in
three lines across the street. Benches, trellises, boxes, fences —
every movable thing within reach — were soon added to these
barricades. An omnibus passing by was captured, detached
from the horses, and tumbled into one of the lines. The flag
was taken from the Panorama near by, and a vast procession
paraded through the grounds, singing the Marseillaise, the Pari-
Bieune, and other patriotic airs.

Meanwhile, a small detachment of footguards advanced to
the scene of action ; but they were pelted with stones, and took
shelter in their guard-house. This was assailed with a shower
of missiles, which rattled like hail upon its roof. The windows
were dashed in, and a heap of brush near by was laid to the
wall and set on fire. A body of horse-guards soon arrived and
dispersed the rioters ; but the latter crossed to the northern side
of the Champs Elysees, attacked another guard-house, and set it
on lire. A company of the line came to the spot, but the mob
cheered them, arid they remained inactive. The revel proceeded,
and, in the face of the soldiers, the people fed the fire with fuel
from the surrounding trees and fences, sang their songs, cracked
their jokes, and cried, "Down with Guizot!" — "Vive la Ke-
forme!" &c. In these scenes the boys took the lead — perform
ing the most desperate feats, and inspiring the rest by their
intrepidity. A remarkable air of fun and frolic characterized
the mob — wit flew as freely on all sides as stones and sticks;
every missile seemed winged with a joke.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 457

Such was the course of events the first day, so far as they fell
under my own observation. It appears from the papers that
similar proceedings, though in some cases of a more serious
character, took place elsewhere. Great masses of people gath
ered at various points. They made hostile demonstrations be
fore the office of Foreign Affairs, crying out, "Down with
Guizot!" Some person called for the minister. "He is not
here," said one; "he is with the Countess Lieven" — a remark
which the habitues of Paris will understand as conveying a
keen satire. At other points, a spirit of insubordination was
manifested. Bakers' shops were broken open, armories forced,
and barricades begun. Everywhere the hymn of the Marseil
laise, and Dumas' touching death-song of the Girondins, were
sung — often by hundreds of voices, and with thrilling effect.
The rappel, for calling out the National Guard, was beaten
in several quarters. As night closed in, heavy masses of
soldiery, horse and foot, with trains of artillery, were seen at
various points. The Place du Carrousel was full of troops, and
at evening they were there reviewed by the king, and the Dukes
of Nemours and Montpensier. Six thousand soldiers were dis
posed along the Boulevards, from the Madeleine to the Porte
>St. Martin. Patrols were seen in different quarters during the
whole night. About twelve, tranquillity reigned over the city,
disturbed only in a few remote and obscure places by the build
ing of barricades, the arrest of rioters, and one or two combats,
in which several persons were killed. Such was the first day's
work — the prelude to the mighty drama about to follow.

Wednesday, the 23d, was fair, with dashes of rain at intervals,
as in our April. I was early abroad, and soon noticed that
companies of National Guards were on duty. Only regular
troops had been called out the day before — a fact which showed
the distrust entertained by the king of the National Guards.
This was remarked by the latter, and was doubtless one of the
causes which hastened the destruction of the govermn. nt,

At nine o'clock, I passed up the Boulevards. Most of tho

4:58 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

shops were shut, and an air of uneasiness prevailed among the
people. At the Porte St. Denis, there was a great throng, and
a considerable mass of troops. Barricades were soon after
erected in the streets of St. Denis, Clery, St. Eustache, Cadran,
&c. Several fusilades took place between the people at these
points and the soldiers, and a number of persons were killed.

Some contests occurred in other quarters during the morning.
At two o'clock, the Boulevards, the Rues St. Denis, St. Martin,
Montmartre, St. Honore — in short, all the great thoroughfares
— were literally crammed with people. Bodies of horse and
foot, either stationary or patrolling, were everywhere to be
seen. It was about this time that some officers of the National
Guard ordered their men to fire, but they refused. In one in
stance, four hundred National Guards were seen inarching, in
uniform, but without arms. It became evident that the soldiers
generally were taking part with the people. This news was
carried to the Palace, and Count Mole was called in to form a
new ministry. He undertook the task, and orders were imme
diately given to spread the intelligence of this through the city.

Meanwhile the riot and revel went on in various quarters.
The police were active, and hundreds of persons were arrested
and lodged in prison. Skirmishes took place, here and there,
between the soldiers and the people; long processions were
seen, attended by persons who sang choruses, and shouted,
" Down with Guizot !"— " Vive la reforme 1"

About four o'clock, the news of the downfall of the Guizot
ministry was spread along the Boulevards. The joyful intelli
gence ran over the city with the speed of light. It was every
where received with acclamations. The people and the troops,
a short time before looking at each other in deadly hostility,
were seen shaking hands, and expressing congratulations. An
immense population — men, women, and children — poured into
the Boulevards, to share in the jubilation. Large parties of the
National Guard paraded the streets, the officers and men shout
ing, "Vive la reforme!" and the crowd cheering loudly. Bands

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 459

of five hundred to fifteen hundred men and boys went about
making noisy demonstrations of joy. On being met by the
troops, they divided to let them pass, and immediately resumed
their cries and their songs.

Toward half-past six o'clock in the evening, an illumination
was spoken of, and many persons lighted up spontaneously.
The illumination soon became more general, and the populace,
in large numbers, went through the streets, calling, "Light up!"
Numerous bands, alone, or following detachments of the Na
tional Guards, went about, shouting, " Vive le roi I" — " Vive la
reforme!" and singing the Marseillaise. At many points, where
barricades had been erected, and the people were resisting the
troops, they ceased when they heard the news of the resigna
tions, and the troops retired. " It is all over!" was the general
cry, and a feeling of relief seemed to pervade every bosom.

There can be no doubt that, but for a fatal occurrence which
soon after took place, the further progress of the revolt might
have been stayed. Many wise people now say, indeed, that the
revolution was all planned beforehand ; they had foreseen and
predicted it ; and from the beginning of the outbreak every thing
tended to this point. The fact is unquestionably otherwise.
The " Opposition," with their various clubs and societies dis
tributed through all classes in Paris, and holding constant com
munication with the workmen, or blousemen, no doubt stood
ready to take advantage of any violence on the part of the gov
ernment which might justify resistance; but they had not anti
cipated such a contingency on the present occasion. It is not
probable that the Mole ministry, had it been consummated,
would have satisfied the people; but the king had yielded;
Guizot, the special object of hatred, had fallen, and it was sup
posed that further concessions would be made, as concession
had been begun. But accident, which often rules the fate of
empires and dynasties, now stepped in to govern the course of
events, and give them a character which should astonish the
world.

460 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

In the course of the evening, a large mass of people had col
lected on the Boulevard, in the region of Guizot's office — the
Hdtel des Affaires Etrangeres. The troops here had unfortu
nately threatened the people, by rushing at them with fixed
bayonets, after the announcement of the resignation of the min
istry, and when a good feeling prevailed among all classes. This
irritated the mob, and was partly, no doubt, the occasion of the
large gathering in this quarter. For some reason, not well ex
plained, a great many troops had also assembled here and in the
vicinity. At ten o'clock, the street from the Madeleine to the
Rue de la Paix, was thronged with soldiers and people. There
was, however, no riot, and no symptom of disorder.

At this moment, a collection of persons, mostly young men,
about sixty in number, came along the Boulevard, on the side
opposite to the soldiers and the Foreign Office. It is said that
the colonel anticipated some attack, though nothing of the kind
was threatened. It appears that the soldiers stood ready to fire,
when one of their rnuskets went oft',* and wounded the command
er's horse in the leg. He mistook this for a shot from the crowd,
and gave instant orders to fire. A fusilade immediately followed.
Twenty persons fell dead, and forty were wounded. The scene
which ensued baffles description. The immense masses dispersed
in terror, and carried panic in all directions. The groans of the
dying and the screams of the wounded filled the air. Shops
and houses around were turned into hospitals. " We are be
trayed ! we are betrayed!" — "Revenge! revenge!" was the
cry of the masses.

From this moment the doom of the monarchy was sealed.
The leaders of the clubs, no doubt, took their measures for
revolution. An immense wagon was soon brought to the scene
of the massacre ; the dead bodies were laid on it, and flaring
torches were lighted over it. The ghastly spectacle was para-

* It has since been said, and is generally believed, that a revolution
ist by the name of Lagrange fired this shot with a pistol, having ex
pected and designed the events which immediately followed.

HISTORIC A I,, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 461

ded through the streets, and the mute lips of the corpses doubt
less spoke more effectively than those of the living. Largo
masses of people, pale with excitement, and uttering execra
tions upon the murderers, followed in the train of the wagon,
as it passed through the more populous streets of the city, and
especially in those quarters inhabited by the lower classes. The
effect was such as might have been anticipated. At midnight,
the barricades were begun, and at sunrise, the streets of Paris
displayed a net-work of fortifications from the place St. George
to the church of Notre Dame, which set the troops at defiance.
More than a thousand barricades, some of them ten feet in
height, were thrown up during that memorable night ; yet such
were the suddenness and silence of the operations, that most ot
the inhabitants of the city slept in & curity, fondly dreaming
that the tempest had passed, and that the morning would greet
them in peace.

On Thursday, the decisive day, the weather was still mild,
and without rain, though the sky was dimmed with clouds.
At eleven in the morning, I sallied forth. I can not express my
astonishment at the scene. The whole Boulevard was a spec
tacle of desolation. From the Rue de la Paix to the Rue Mont-
martre — the finest part of Paris, the glory of the city — every
tree was cut down, all the public monuments reduced to heaps*
of ruins, the pavements torn up, and the entire wreck tumbled
into a succession of barricades. Every street leading into this
portion of the Boulevard was strongly barricaded. Such giant
operations seemed like the work of enchantment.

But my wonder had only begun. At the point where the
Rue IContmartre crosses the Boulevard, the entire pavement
\va> torn up, and something like a square breastwork was form
ed, in which a cannon was planted. The whole space around
was crowded with the populace. As I stood for a moment,
surveying the scene, a young man, about twenty, passed through
the crowd, and stepping upon the carriage of the cannon, cried
out, "Down with Louis Philippe!" The energy with which

462 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

this was spoken sent a thrill through every bosom ; and the
remarkable appearance of the youth gave additional effect to
liis words. He seemed the very demon of revolution. He was
short, broad-shouldered, and full-chested. His face was pale,
his cheek spotted with blood, and his head, without hat or cap,
was bound with a handkerchief. His features were keen, and
his deep-set eye was lit with a spark that seemed borrowed from
a tiger. As he left the throng, he came near me, and I said, in
quiringly, " Down with Louis Philippe?" "Yes!" was Lis re
ply. " And what then?" said I. UA republic!" was his an
swer ; arid he passed on, giving the watchword of " Down with
Louis Philippe!" to the masses he encountered. This was the
first instance in whicl I heard the overthrow of the king, and
the adoption of a repub'ic proposed.

In pursuing my walk, I noticed that the population were now
abundantly supplied with weapons. On the two first days they
were unarmed ; but after the slaughter at the Foreign Office,
they went to all the houses and demanded weapons. These were
given, for refusal would have been vain. An evidence of the
consideration of the populace, even in their hour of wrath, is
furnished by the fact, that in all cases where the arms had been
surrendered, they wrote on the doors in chalk, u Armes don-
nees1"1 — arms given up — so as to prevent the annoyance of a sec
ond call.

It might seem a fearful thing to behold a mob, such as that
of Paris, brandishing guns, fowling-pieces, swords, cutlasses,
hatchets, and axes ; but I must say that I felt not the slightest
fear in passing among their thickest masses. Some of them,
who had doubtless never handled arms before, seemed a little
jaunty and jubilant. The Gamins, a peculiar race of enterpri
sing, daring, desperate boys — the leaders in riots, rows, and re
bellions — were swarming on all sides, and seemed to feel a head
taller in the possession of their weapons. I saw several of these
unwashed imps strutting about with red sashes around the
waist, supporting pistols, dirks, cutlasses, &c. ; yet I must state

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 463

that over the whole scene there was an air of good-breeding,
which seemed a guaranty against insult or violence. I may also
remark here, that during the whole three days, I did not ob
serve a scuffle or wrangle among the people ; I did not hear an
insulting word, nor did I see a menace offered — save in conflicts
between the soldiers and the populace. I can add, that I did
not see a drunken person during the whole period, with the
single exception which I shall hereafter mention.

I took a wide circuit in the region of the Rue Hontmartre,
the Bourse, the Rue Yivienne, St. Honore, and the Palais Royal.
Everywhere there were enormous barricades and crowds of
armed people. Soon after — that is, about twelve o'clock —
I passed the southern quadrangle of the Palais Royal, which
—lately the residence of the brother of the King of Naples —
was now attacked and taken by the populace. The beautiful
suit of rooms were richly furnished, and decorated with costly
pictures, statues, bronzes, and other specimens of art. These
were unsparingly tumbled into the square and the street, and
con.-igned to the flames.* At the distance of one hundred and
fifty feet from the front of the Palais Royal, was the Cha
teau d'Emi, a massive stone building occupied as a barrack,
and at this moment garrisoned by one hundred and eighty
municipal guards. In most parts of the city, seeing that
the troops fraternized with the people, the government had
given them orders not to fire. These guards, however, attacked
the insurgents in and about the Palais Royal. Their fire was
returned, and a desperate conflict ensued. The battle lasted for
more than an hour, the people rushing in the very face of the

* Many occurrences, during the revolution, served to display, on the
part of the people, commonly, but injuriously, called the mob, senti
ments not inferior in beauty and elevation to those handed down for
centuries in the histories of ancient Greece and Home. During the
sacking of the Palais Royal, the insurgents found an ivory crucifix. In
the very heat of their fury against tyranny, they reverently paused, and
taking the sacred emblem of their faith, bore it to the old church of St.
Roch, where it was safely denosited.

4:64 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

muskets of the guard, as they blazed from the grated windows.
At last the barrack was set on fire, and the guard yielded, though
not till many of their number had fallen, and the rest were near
ly dead with suffocation. The Chateau d'Eau is now a mere
ruin, its mottled walls giving evidence of the shower of bullets
that had been poured upon it.*

No sooner had the Chateau d'Eau surrendered, than the
flushed victors took their course toward the Tuileries, which was
near at hand ; shouting, singing, roaring, they came like a surge,
bearing all before them. The Place du Carrousel was filled with
troops, but not a sword was unsheathed — not a bayonet point
ed — not a musket or a cannon fired. There stood, idle and mo
tionless, the mighty armament which the king had appointed
for his defense. How vain 1iad his calculations proved ! for,
alas ! they were founded in a radical error ! The soldiers would
not massacre their brethren, to sustain a throne which they
now despised !

But we must now enter the Tuileries. For several days pre
vious to the events we have described, some anxiety had been
entertained by persons in and about the palace. The king, how
ever, had no fears. He appeared in unusual spirits, and if any
intimation of danger was given, he turned it aside with a sneer
or a joke. Even so late as Wednesday, after he had called upon
Count Mole to form a new ministry, he remarked, that he was
so " firmly seated in the saddle, that nothing could throw him
off."

Mole soon found it impossible, with the materials at hand, to
construct a ministry. Thiers was then called in, and after a
long course of higgling and chaffering on the part of the king,
it was agreed that he and Barrot should undertake to carry on

* In the recent improvements in Paris, the ruins of the Chateau d'Eau
have been removed, and a square has been opened upon their site from
the Palais Royal to the new portions of the Louvre. These and other
alterations have rendered this one of the most beautiful quarters of tho
city. The Louvre and the Tuileries have been united, and now form
one of the most magnificent palaces in Europe.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 465

the government. This was announced by them in person, as
they rode through the streets on Thursday morning. These
concessions, however, came too late. The cry for a republic
was bursting from the lips of the million. The abdication of
the king was decreed, and a raging multitude were demanding
this at the very gates of the palace. Overborne by the crisis,
the king agreed to abdicate in favor of the Duke de Nemours.
Some better tidings were brought him, and he retracted what
he had just done. A moment after, it became certain that the
insurgents would shortly burst into the palace. In great trepi
dation, the king agreed to resign the crown in favor of his
grandson, the young Count de Paris — yet, still clinging to hope,
he shuffled and hesitated before he would put his name to the
act of abdication. This, however, was at last done, and the
king and queen, dressed in black, and accompanied by a few
individuals who remained faithful in this trying moment, pa-vd
from the Tuileries to the Place de la Concorde, through the sub
terranean passage constructed many years previously for the
walks of the infant king of Rome. They here entered a small
one-horse vehicle, and after a rapid and successful flight, landed
safely at Dover, in England.*

Meanwhile, the mob had seized the royal carriages, fourteen
in number, and made a bonfire of them, near the celebrated
arch in the Place du Carrousel. Soon after, they forced the
railing at several points, and came rushing across the square to
ward the palace. Scarcely had the various members of the
royal family time to escape on one side of the building, when
the mob broke in at the other.

I have not time to follow the adventures of these several in
dividuals. We can not but sympathize with them in their mis
fortunes ; but we may remark, that the fall of the Orleans dy-

* The various members of the royal family, having escaped to Eng
land, established themselves at Claremont, near London, where they
have continued till tlra time. Louis Philippe died there the 22d o.
August, 1850.

466 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

nasty was not broken by a single act of courage or dignity on
the part of any one of the family. Their flight seemed a vulgar
scramble for mere life. Even the king was reduced to the most
common-place disguises — the shaving of his whiskers, the
change of his dress, the adopting an " alias!" I may add here,
that they have all escaped ; and while everybody seems glad of
this, there is no one behind who mourns their loss. None are
more loud in denouncing the besotted confidence of the king,
than his two hundred and twenty-five purchased deputies, who
were so loyal in the days of prosperity.

We must now turn our attention toAvard another scene — the
Chamber of Deputies. This body met on Tuesday, at the
usual hour — twelve o'clock. While the riotous scenes we have
described were transpiring during that day, in full view of the
place where they had assembled, the deputies, as if in mockery
of the agitation without, were occupied in a languid discussion
upon the affairs of a broken country bank. Toward the close
of the sitting, Odillon Barrot read from the tribune a solemn
act of impeachment of the ministers. The next day, Wednes
day, the Chamber again met, and Guizot in the afternoon an
nounced that Count Mole was attempting to form a new min
istry. It does not appear that Guizot or his colleagues were
afterward seen in the Chamber. It is said that they met at the
house of Duchatel on Thursday morning, and after consultation
adopted the significant motto of Napoleon after the battle of
Waterloo — " Sauve qui pent /" — Save himself who can. I am
happy to add that the fugitives seem to have made good their
retreat. It is said that Soult, disdaining to fly, remains at hi?
house. I need not say that he will not be molested, for there ie
no sanguinary feeling toward any one, and Napoleon's old fa
vorite, the victor in so many battles, would more readily find
a Parisian populace to protect than injure him.

A short time after the king and queen had passed the Place
de la Concorde, I chanced to be there. In a few moments Odil
lon Barrot appeared from the gate of the ' -.'uileries, and, follow-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 467

ed by a long train of persons, proceeded to the Chamber of
Deputies. It was now understood that the king had abdicated,
and that Thiers and Barrot were to propose the Count de Paris
as king, under the regency of his mother, the Duchess of Or
leans. The most profound emotion seemed to occupy the im
mense multitude. All were hushed into silence by the rapid
succession of astonishing events. After a short space, the Duch
ess of Orleans, with her two sons, the Count de Paris and the
Duke de Chartres, were seen on foot coming toward the Cham
ber, encircled by a strong escort. She was dressed in deep
mourning, her face bent to the ground. She moved across the
bridge, and passing to the rear of the building, entered it thcough
the gardens. Shortly after this, the Duke de Nemours, attended
by several gentlemen on horseback, rode up, and also entered
the building.

The scene that ensued within, is said to have presented an
extraordinary mixture of the solemn and the ludicrous. The
duchess being present, O. Barrot proceeded to state the abdica
tion of the king, and to propose the regency. It was then that
Liimarrine seemed to shake off the poet and philosopher, and
suddenly to become a man of action. Seizing the critical mo
ment, he declared his conviction that the days of monarchy
were numbered, that the proposed regency was not suited to
tin- crisis and that a republic alone would meet the emergency
and the wishes of France. These opinions, happily expressed
and strenuously enforced, became decisive in their ellect.

Several other speeches were made, and a scene of great con-
fu-ioii fallowed. A considerable number of the mob had broken
into llie room, and occupied the galleries and the floor. One ot
;h -in brought his firelock to his shoulder, and took aim at M.
Sauzet, the president. Entirely losing his self-possession, he
abdicated wit.h great., speed, and disappeared. In the midst of
the hubbub, a provisional government was announced, and the
leading members were named. Some of the more obnoxious
deputies were aimed at bv the muskets of the mob, and skulk-

463 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

ing behind benches and pillars, they oozed out at back doors
and windows. A blouseraan came up to the Duke de Ne
mours, who drew his sword. The man took it from him, broke
it over his knee, and counseled his highness to depart. This he
did forthwith, having borrowed a coat and hat for the purpose
of disguise. A call was made for the members of the provi
sional government to proceed to the Hotel de Ville. The assem
bly broke up, and the curtain fell upon the last sitting of the
Chamber of Deputies — the closing scene of Louis Philippe's gov
ernment.

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, that I retraced
my steps toward the Tuileries. The Place de la Concorde was
crowded with soldiers, and fifty cannon were ranged in front of
the gardens. Yet this mighty force seemed struck with paraly
sis. Long lines of infantry stood mute and motionless, and
heavy masses of cavalry seemed converted into so many statues.
Immediately before the eyes of these soldiers was the palace of
the Tuileries in full possession of the mob, but not a muscle
moved for their expulsion !

Passing into the gardens, I noticed that thousands of per
sons were spread over their surface, and a rattling discharge of
fire-arms was heard on all sides. Looking about for the cause
of this, I perceived that hundreds of men and boys were amu
sing themselves with shooting sparrows and pigeons, which
had hitherto found a secure resting-place in this favorite resort
of leisure and luxury. Others were discharging their muskets
for the mere fun of making a noise. Proceeding through the
gardens, I came at last to the palace. It had now been, for
more than an hour, in full possession of the insurgents. All de
scription fails to depict a scene like this. The whole front of
the Tuileries, one-eighth of a mile in length, seemed gushing at
doors, windows, balconies, and galleries, with living multitudes
— a mighty beehive of men, in the very act of swarming. A
confused hubbub filled the air and bewildered the senses with
ts chaotic sounds.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICA^, ETC. 469

At the moment I arrived, the throne of the king was borne
away by a jubilant band of revelers ; and after being paraded
through the streets, was burned at the Place de la Bastille — a
significant episode in this tale of wonders. The colossal statue
of Spartacus, which faces the main door of the palace, toward
the gardens, was now decorated with a piece of gilt cloth torn
from the throne and wreathed like a turban around his head.
In his hand was a gorgeous bouquet of artificial flowers. It
seemed as if the frowning gladiator had suddenly caught the
spirit of the revel, and was about to descend from his pedestal
and mingle in the masquerade.

I entered the palace, and passed through the long suites of
apartments devoted to occasions of ceremony. A year before,
I had seen these gorgeous halls filled with the flush and the
fair, kings, princes, and nobles, gathered to this focal point of
luxury, refinement, and taste, from every quarter of the world.
How little did Louis Philippe, at that moment, dream of u coin
ing events !" How little did the stately queen — a proud obelisk
of silk, a;id lace, and diamonds — foresee the change that was at
hand ! I recollected well the effect of this scene upon my own
mind, and felt the full force of the contrast which the present
moment oifered. In the very room where I had seen the
pensive and pensile Princess de Joinville and the Duchess de
Montpensier — the latter then fresh from the hymeneal altar,
her raven hair studded with diamonds like evening stars — whirl
ing in the mazy dance, I now beheld a band of creatures like
Calibans, gamboling to the song of the Marseillaise !

On every side my eye fell upon scenes of destruction. Pass
ing to the other end of the palace, I beheld a mob in the cham
bers of the princesses. Some rolled themselves in the luscious
beds, others anointed their shaggy heads with choice pomatum,
exclaiming, "Dieu ! how sweet it smells!" One of the gamins,
grimed with gunpowder, blood, and dirt, seized a tooth-brush,
and placing himself before a mirror, seemed delighted at the
manifest improvement which he produced upon his ivory.

470 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

On leaving the palace, I saw numbers of the men drinking wine
from bottles taken from the well-stocked cellars. None of them
were positively drunk. To use the words of Tarn O'Shanter,
'' They were na fou, but just had plenty" — perhaps a little more.
They flourished their guns and pistols, brandished their swords,
and performed various antics, but they offered no insult to any
one. They seemed in excellent humor, and made more than an
ordinary display of French politesse. They complimented the
women, of whom there was no lack, and one of them, resem
bling a figure of Pan, seized a maiden by the waist, and both
rigadooned merrily over the floor.

Leaving this scene of wreck, confusion, and uproar, I pro
ceeded toward the gate of the gardens leading into the Rue de
Rivoli. I was surprised to find here a couple of ruthless-looking
blousemen, armed with pistols, keeping guard. On inquiry, I
found that the mob themselves had instituted a sort of govern
ment. One fellow, in the midst of the devastation in the pal
ace, seeing a man put something into his pocket, wrote on the
wall, "Death to the thief!" The Draconian code was imme
diately adopted by the people, and became the law of Paris.
Five persons, taken in acts of robbery, were shot down by the
people, and their bodies exposed in the streets, with the label
of " Thieves" on their breast. Thus order and law seemed to
spring up from the instincts of society, in the midst of uproar
and confusion, as crystals are seen shooting from the chaos of
the elements.

Three days had now passed, and the revolution was accom
plished. The people soon returned to their wonted habits — the
provisional government proceeded in its duties— the barricades
disappeared, and in a single week the more obtrusive traces of
the storm that had passed had vanished from the streets and
squares of Paris. A mighty shock has, however, been given to
society, which still swells and undulates like the sea after a
storm. The adjacent countries seem to feel the movement, and
all Europe is in a state of agitation. What must be the final re-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 471

suit, can not now be foreseen ; but I fear that, ere the sky be
cleared, still further tempests must sweep over France and the
surrounding nations. The day of reckoning for long years of
tyranny and corruption has come, and the sun of liberty can
hardly be expected to shine full on the scene, till a night of fear,
and agitation, and tears has been passed.

LETTER LVII1.

Events which immediately followed the Revolution — Scenes in the streets of
Paris — Anxiety of Strangers — Proceedings of the Americans — Address
to the Provisional Government— Reply of M. Arago— Procession in the
streets — Inauguration of the Republic — Funeral of the Victims — Presen
tation of Flags — Conspiracy of the 15th of May — Insurrection of June
— Adoption of the Constitution — Louis Napoleon President,

MY DEAR C******

It is quite impossible to give you any adequate
idea of the state of things in Paris, immediately after
the revolution described in my preceding letter. The
Provisional Government, at the Hotel de Ville, con
sisting of persons who had seized the reins of author
ity which had suddenly fallen from the hands of the
now prostrate monarchy, was as yet without real
power. Every thing was in a state of paralysis, or
disorganization. There was no effective police, no
visible authority, no actual government ; every man
did what seemed good in his own eyes. Boys and
blackguards paraded the streets with swords at their
side, muskets in their hands, and sashes around their

472 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

waists. Enormous processions of men, sometimes
mingled with women, moved along the thorough
fares, singing the Marseillaise and "Mourir pour la
Patrie." It was a general jubilee — and, strange to
say, without riot, without violence, without fear. I
walked freely abroad in the streets, taking my wife
and children with me; we were constantly saluted by
men and women offering us tricolored rosettes, which
they pinned upon our breasts with the utmost good-
humor, expecting, of course, a few sous in return.
This state of things continued for some weeks — the
people being a law unto themselves, and refraining
alike from turbulence, from outrage, and from pil
lage. It is probable that in no other great city of
the world could the masses be let loose from the
restraints of government and law, and yet keep them
selves within the bounds of order and propriety, as
did the Parisians during this remarkable era.

Of course, there was a general feeling of anxiety
among all reflecting people in Paris, and especially
those whose minds reverted to the first French revo
lution. This disquietude extended particularly to all
foreigners, and they naturally cast about for the
means of safety. It was difficult to leave Paris, for
some of the railroads were broken up, and all the
modes of conveyance were deranged. It was almost
impossible to get money for the purposes of travel,
and even if one could escape from Paris, more danger
ous agitation might exist in the country. The lead

HISTOKICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 4/T3

ing Americans took counsel together on this subject,
and finally concluded to proceed, in procession, to
the Provisional Government, and congratulate them
upon the revolution.* A message was sent to inquire
if this would be acceptable ; the answer was favora
ble, and, indeed, they were desired to hasten the
proceeding, as it was thought such a demonstration
might contribute to give support to the trembling
authority of the self-elected rulers.

In the preliminary meeting for bringing about the
proposed address, I was chosen to preside, and was
also selected as chairman of the committee to draw
up the address itself. I had some curious counsel
given me by my countrymen, while I was preparing
this document. The Americans looked upon the
revolution, not only as the overthrow of monarchy,
but as the birth of that liberty which we are taught
to cherish as one of the greatest boons of existence.
The example of Paris extended like an electric shock
to the adjacent countries. Italy, Austria, Prussia,
seemed on the point of emancipating themselves from
the yoke which had bound them for ages. With a
generous sympathy, our countrymen wished success
to these efforts. The formation of a republican gov
ernment seems to us so easy, so obvious a work, that

* Mr. Kush, who was tlieu our ambassador to France, proceedi-d in
his official capacity to the Hotel dc Ville, three or four days after the
completion of the revolution, and recognized the government, congratu
lating them upon a change which had resulted hi the establishment of
a republic.

474 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

we suppose every nation which undertakes the task,
will of course accomplish it. It was natural, there
fore, for an American in Paris to believe that the
good time had actually come, and that the people
had only to inaugurate and establish it. I had
several plans of addresses sent to me founded upon
this idea ; one a declaration of principles, of seven
foolscap pages, drawn up pretty much after the man
ner of our Declaration of Independence. Conceiving
it, however, no time to be magniloquent, I prepared
the following brief address, which was adopted :

" Gentlemen, members of the Provisional Government of the
French People — As citizens of the United States of America, and
spectators of recent events in Paris, we come to offer you our
congratulations. A grateful recollection of the past, and the ties
of amity which have existed between your country and ours,
prompt us to be among the first to testify to you, and to the
people of France, the sympathy, the respect, and the admiration
which those events inspire. Acknowledging the right of every
nation to form its own government, we may still be permitted
to felicitate France upon the choice of a system which recognizes
as its basis the great principles of rational liberty and political
equality.

" In the progress of the recent struggle here, We, have admired
the magnanimity of the French people, their self-command in the
hour of triumph, and their speedy return to order and law, after
the tumult and confusion of revolution. We see in these circum-
stances, happy omens of good to France and to mankind — assu
rances that what has been so nobly begun will be consummated
in the permanent establishment of a just and liberal government,
and the consequent enjoyment of liberty, peace, and prosperity,
among the citizens of this great country. Accept this testimo-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 475

nial of the sentiments which fill our hearts at the present mo
ment, and be assured that the news of the revolution which you
have just achieved, will be hailed by our countrymen on the
other side of the Atlantic, with no other emotions than those of
hope arid joy for France and for the world."

All things being duly prepared, the Americans,
about two hundred and fifty in number, marched in
procession to the Hotel de Ville, the striped bunting
and the tricolor waving together in harmony over
our heads. The citizens of Paris looked upon us
with welcome, and frequently the cry arose — "Vive
la Republique Americaine!"*

The Hotel de Ville is one of the most sumptuous
palaces in Europe; and here, in the magnificent
apartment called the Hall of Reception, we were
received by the Provisional Government — all dressed
in their tmiform of blue, ornamented with gold lace,
and rich sashes around the waist. Lamartine was ill,
and was not present ; Arago presided. I began to
read the address, in English, when a tipsy French
man, who had squeezed into the hall with the pro-

* The committee on the address, besides myself, were Messrs. Corbin,
of Virginia, Shimmin, of Boston, and the late Henry Coleman, well
known for his agricultural writings, as well as his travels in England
and France.

The president on the occasion was Hon. G. W. Erving, formerly min
ister of the United States to Madrid.

The chief marshal was \\ 'rhrlit Ilawkes, Esq., of New York, assisted
by Kobert Wicklifte, Jr., of Kentucky, E. C. Cowden, of Boston, <fcc.

It is a curious fact, that the Americans in the procession were several
inches taller than the average of Frenchmen — a circumstance which at
tracted general attention in Paris at the time.

476 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

cession, came forward and insisted that it should be
read in French. He was pacified by being told that
it would be read in that language after I had con
cluded. When the address was finished, M. Arago
replied on behalf of the government, in appropriate
terms. M. Poussin* then seized the two flags, and
waving them together, pronounced an ar.imated dis
course, in which he acknowledged with gratitude the
sympathy of the Americans in the recent revolution,
and expressed the hope that France had now entered
upon the long-hoped-for millennial era of equality,
fraternity, and liberty.

It is not my design to give you a detailed history of
the revolution, but I may sketch a few of the promi
nent events which followed. For this purpose, I make
an extract from an account I have elsewhere given :

For several weeks and months, Paris was a scene of extraordi
nary excitement. The Provisional Government had announced
that they would provide the people with labor. Consequently,
deputations of tailors, hatters, engravers, musicians, paviors,
cabinet-makers, seamstresses, and a multitude of other trades

* M. Guillaume Tell Poussin came to the United States many years ago,
and was employed here as an engineer for a long time. After his return
to France, he wrote an able statistical work on this country, in which he
highly praised our institutions. When the French Republic was organ-
izeJ, lie was sent as minister to Washington. Mr. Clayton, Secretary of
State under Gen. Taylor, took exception to certain expressions used by
M. Poussin in his correspondence with the department, and accordingly
he ceased to represent his country here. M. Poussin is, however, a
sincere republican, and a great admirer of the United States ; and though
his principles are well known, such is the respect entertained for him,
that the suspicion of the French government, even under the empire,
lias never subjected him to constraint or annoyance.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 477

and vocations, flocked in long lines to the Hotel de Yille, to
solicit the favor of the government. Vast crowds of people
perpetually haunted this place, and, in one instance, a raging
multitude came thundering at the doors, demanding that the
blood-red flag of the former revolution should be the banner of
the new republic ! It was on this occasion that Lamartine ad-
dressed the people, and with such eloquence as to allay the
storm which threatened again to deluge France in blood. The
members of the government were so besieged and pressed by
business, that for several weeks they slept in the Hotel de Ville.
They proceeded with a bold hand to announce and establish the
republic. In order to make a favorable impression upon the
people, they decreed a gorgeous ceremony at the foot of the col
umn of July, on Sunday, February 27th, by which they solemnly
inaugurated the new republic. All the members of the Provis
ional Government were present on horseback ; there were sixty
thousand troops and two hundred thousand people to witness
the spectacle.

Another still more imposing celebration took place on the 4th
of March. This was called the u Funeral of the Victims." After
religious ceremonies at the Madeleine, the members of the gov
ernment, with a long train of public officers, and an immense
cortege of military, proceeded to the July column, conducting a
superb funeral-car drawn by eight cream-colored horses. This
contained most of the bodies of those slain in the revolution —
about two hundred and fifty. These were deposited in the vault
of the column, with the victims of the revolution of 1830.

Nothing can adequately portray this spectacle. A tricolored
flag was stretched on each side of the Boulevards, from the Ma
deleine to the July column — a distance of three miles. As this
consisted of three strips of cloth, the length of the whole was
eighteen miles! The solemn movement of the funeral procession,
the dirge-like music, the march of nearly a hundred thousand sol
diers, and the sympathizing presence of three hundred thousand
souls, rendered it a scene never surpassed and rarely equaled,

478

LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

either by the magnificence of the panorama, or the solemn and
touching sentiments excited.

Still other spectacles succeeded, and in the summer four hun
dred thousand people assembled in the Champs Elysees to wit
ness the Presentation of Flags to the assembled National Guards
— eighty thousand being present. Such scenes can only be wit
nessed in Paris.

Events proceeded with strange rapidity. A Constituent As
sembly was called by the Provisional Government, to form a
constitution. The members were elected by ballot, the suffrage
being universal — that is, open to all Frenchmen over twenty-one.
The election took place in April, and on the 4th of May the first
session was held, being officially announced to the assembled
people from the steps of the Chamber of Deputies. On the 15th
of May a conspiracy was disclosed, the leaders of which wero
Raspail, Barbes, Sobrier, Caussidiere, Blanqui, Flotte, Albert,
and Louis Blanc* — the two last having been members of the
Provisional Government. Caussidiere was prefect of police.

The Assembly proceeded in the work of framing a constitution,
administering the government in the mean time. On the 24th of
June, a terrific insurrection broke out, promoted by the leaders
of various factions, all desiring the overthrow of the republic
which had been inaugurated. Cavaignac, who was minister of
war, was appointed dictator, and Paris was declared in a state
of siege. The insurgents confined their operations chiefly to the
faubourgs St. Jacques and St. Antoine. They got possession of
these, and formed skillful and able plans of operation, which had
for their ultimate object the surrounding of the city and getting
possession of certain important points, including the Chamber —
thus securing the government in their own hands.

* These men were Socialists, and aimed at a destruction of the gov
ernment, so that they might bring into effect their peculiar schemes.
They were shortly afterward tried at Bourges, and sentenced to long
imprisonment or banishment. Louis Blanc and Caussidiere escaped to
England. The former remains in London ; the latter is now a wine-
merchant in New York.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 479

Cavaignac proceeded to attack the barricades, thus clearing
the streets one by one. The fighting was terrible. For four
days The battle continued, the sound of cannon frequently filling
the ears of the people all over the city. Night and day the in
habitants were shut up in their houses — ignorant of all, save
that the conflict was raging. The women found employment in
scraping lint for the wounded. All Paris was a camp. The
windows were closed; the soldiers and sentinels passed their
watchwords ; litters, carrying the dead and wounded, were seen
along the streets ; the tramp of marching columns and the thun
der of rushing cavalry broke upon the ear !

At last the conflict was over ; the insurgents were beaten —
Cavaignac triumphed. But the victory was dearly purchased.
Between two and three thousand persons were killed — and among
them, no less than seven general officers had fallen. The insur
gents fought like tigers. Many women were in the ranks, using
the musket, carrying the banners, rearing barricades, and cheer
ing the fight. Boys and girls mingled in the conflict. The
National Guards who combated them, had equal courage and
superior discipline. One of the Garde Mobile — Hyacinthe Mar
tin, a youth of fourteen — took four standards from the tops of
the barricades. His gallantry excited great interest, and Ca
vaignac decorated him with the cross of the Legion of Honor.
He became a hero of the day, but, sad to relate, being invited to
f&tes, banquets, and repasts, his head was turned, and he was
soon a ruined profligate.

The leaders in this terrific insurrection were never detected.
It is certain that the movement was headed by able men, and
directed by skillful engineers. The masses who fought were
n>u>ed to fury by poverty and distress, by disappointment at
finding the national workshops discontinued, and by stimulating
excitements furnished by socialist clubs and newspapers. It is
computed that forty thousand insurgents were in arms, and eighty
thousand government soldiers were brought against them. It
may be considered that this struggle was the remote but inevila-

4:80 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

ble result of the course of the Provisional Government in adopting
the doctrine of obligation, on the part of the State, to supply
work and wages to the people, and in establishing national
workshops in pursuance of this idea. Still, it may be said, on
the other hand, that nothing but such a step could have enabled
the Provisional Government to maintain itself during three
months, and give being to an organized Assembly from which
a legitimate government could proceed.

The constitution was finished in the autumn, and promulgated
on the 19th of November, 1848. On the 10th of December fol
lowing, the election of President took place, and it appeared
that Louis Napoleon had five million out of seven million votes.
He was duly inaugurated about a week after the election, and
entered upon the high duties which thus devolved upon him.

LETTER LIX.

The Duties of a Consul — Pursuit of a missing Family — Paying for Ex*
perience.

MY DEAR C******

Let us now come to the period of 1851, when I
entered upon the consulate. Of the space during
which I was permitted to hold this office, I have no
very remarkable personal incidents to relate. The
certifying of invoices, and the legalizing of deeds
and powers of attorney, are the chief technical duties
of the American Consul at Paris.* If he desires to

* Paris is not a seaport, and therefore the numerous consular duties
connected with shipping are never required here. On the other hand,
it is the literary metropolis of France ; and as French consuls are re
quired to collect and furnish geographical, historical, commercial, and
{statistical information, I found myself constantly applied to by editors

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 481

enlarge the circle of his operations, however, he can
find various ways of doing it, as for instance, in sup
plying the wants of distressed Poles, Hungarians, Ital
ians, and others, who are martyrs to liberty, and sup
pose the American heart and purse always open to
those who are thus afflicted : in answering questions
from notaries, merchants, lawyers, as to the laws of the
different American States upon marriage, inheritance,

of papers, authors, bankers, merchants, government officials, for partic
ular facts in regard to the United States. I was exceedingly struck with
the general ignorance of all classes, as to our country, its institutions,
geography, population, history, &c. I therefore prepared a work, which,
with the kind assistance of M. Delbriick, was put into French, and pub
lished — it being an octavo volume of about three hundred and seventy-
five pages, entitled Les Etats- Unis <P Amerique. I had the gratification of
seeing it well received on all sides, even by the members of the govern
ment, from whom I had complimentary acknowledgments. There is, in
deed, a great and growing interest in our country all over Europe, and
it seems to be the duty of American officials abroad to take advantage of
their opportunities to satisfy and gratify this curiosity by furnishing, in
a correct and accessible form, the kind of information that is desired.

The number of Americans in Paris, residents and travelers, varies from
one to three thousand. If the Consul is understood to bar out his coun
trymen, he may see very few of them ; if, on the contrary, he is willing
to make himself useful in a neighborly way, many of them will call upon
him to take his advice as to schools, physicians, routes of travel, and
the like. When there is difficulty, the Consul is the natural resource -*
his countrymen, especially for those who are without acquaintance. »a
case of the death of an American, if there is no friend or relative pres
ent upon whom the duty devolves, the Consul gives directions as to tho
funeral, and takes charge of the effects of the deceased.

I have already alluded to French physicians and surgeons, and ex
pressed the opinion that ours, in America, are quite as good. There is,
no doubt, great science in the medical and surgical professions of Paris ;
but there are two things to be suggested to those who go there for ad
vice. In the first place, these practitioners are very daring in their treat
ment of strangers, and in the next, their charges to foreigners are usu
ally about double the ordinary rates.

While I was in Paris, a very wealthy and rather aged gentleman from
Virginia consulted an eminent surgeon there, as to hydrooele. Au oi>-

VOL. II.— 21

482 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

and the like ; in advising emigrants whether to settle
in Iowa, or Illinois, or Missouri, or Texas ; in listening
to inquiries made by deserted wives as to where their
errant husbands may be found, who left France ten or
twenty or thirty years ago, and went to America, by
which is generally understood St. Domingo or Mar
tinique. A considerable business may be done in lend
ing money to foreigners, who pretend to have been
naturalized in the United States, and are therefore en
titled to consideration and sympathy, it being of course
well understood that money lent to such persons will
never be repaid. Some time and cash may also be
invested in listening to the stories and contribu
ting to the wants of promising young American art
ists, who are striving to get to Italy, to pursue their
studies — such persons usually being graduates of the
London school of artful dodgers. Some waste lei
sure and a good deal of postage may be disposed of
in correspondence with ingenious Americans — invent
ors and discoverers — as for instance, with a man in
Arkansas or Minnesota, who informs you that he has

eration was recommended and performed, entirely against the advice of
a Virginia physician who chanced to be in Paris, and was consulted.
In thirty days the gentleman died. He had intrusted his affairs to me,
and I paid his bills. The charge of the surgeon was five thousand francs !
The bills of the nurses, hotels, attendants, &c., were of a similar char
acter. A young physician, who had been employed fourteen days as
nurse, estimated his services at fifteen hundred francs ! 1 make these
remarks, that my countrymen going to Paris for medical or surgical ad
vice, may be duly warned against placing themselves in the hands of
rash and unprincipled practitioners. A great name in Paris is by no
means a guarantee of that care, prudence, and conscientiousness, which
to the physician at home.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 483

contrived a new and infallible method of heating and
ventilating European cities, and wishes it brought to
the notice of the authorities there, it being deemed
the duty of the American Consul to give attention to
such matters. These monotonies are occasionally di
versified by a letter from some unfortunate fellow-
countryman who is detained at Mazas or Clichy, and
begs to be extricated ; or some couple who wish to be
put under the bonds of wedlock, or some enterprising
wife, all the way from Tennessee, in chase of a run
away husband, or some inexperienced but indignant
youth who has been fleeced by his landlord.

Mixed up with these amusements, there sometimes
comes an order from the government at home, to ob
tain a certain document, or to give information as to
some institution, or perhaps to make some investiga
tion. The following copy of a letter to the State De
partment at Washington describes an instance of the
latter :

PAEIS, February 10, 1853.
To HON. EDWARD EVERETT, Secretary of State.

Sir — Your letter of the 30th December, inclosing one from
Hon. Jeremiah Clemens, asking information as to the family of
Andre Hentz, was duly received.

Soon after its receipt, I proceeded to No. 9, Rue St. Appoline,
Paris, the last known residence of Madame Hentz, but I could
obtain no traces of her or her family. I then wrote to the Mayor
of Conflans St. Honorine, where she once lived, and received a
reply which directed me to make inquiry at the neighboring vil
lage of Grenelle. Thither I proceeded, and applied as advised,
to No. 5 Rue Fondry. Here I failed, but was led to suppose

484 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

that I might get a clew at No. 115 Kue Yieille du Temple,
Paris. I returned thither, and on application at the place in
dicated, was told that no person by the name of Ilentz had ever
lived there. On going out, I observed that the numbering over
the door was freshly painted, and soon discovered that the
whole numbering of the street had recently been changed. I
now sought the old No. 115, and was here informed that I
might perhaps find the person I was looking after at No. 6 Kue
Thorigny. I proceeded thither, but was informed that M. Hentz
was not there, but perhaps might be found at No. 4. Finally,
at No. 4, on the fifth story, I found Henry Hentz and his
mother, in rather humble but very neat apartments, and appa
rently in comfortable circumstances. I told them the object of
my visit, and they promised immediately to write to Mr. Andre
Hentz, of whom they had lost ah1 trace, and of whom they were
rejoiced to receive intelligence.

I write these particulars, supposing they may be interesting
to Mr. Clemens's client.

I am, with great respect, yours, &c.,

S. G. GOODEIOH.

Another incident may amuse you. I one day re
ceived a number of a Journal published in Paris, en
titled " Archives des Hommes du Jour," that is,
Memoirs of Men of the Time, accompanied by a
polite note saying that the editors would be happy to
insert in their pages a biographical memoir of myself.
They had taken the liberty to sketch the beginning
of the desired article, but the particular facts of my
life they politely begged me to supply.

Supposing this to be one of those applications
which are by no means uncommon, I handed to my
friend, M. Jules Delbriick, the letter, with two or

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 485

three American books, which contained notices of
myself, and asked him to write the memoir as de
sired. This he did, and it was duly sent to the edit
ors of the Hommes du Jour. In due time a proof
was sent, and at the same time one of the editors, a
very smiling gentleman, came and desired to know
how many copies of this memoir of myself I should
desire ! I replied, very innocently, that I should
like one or two. The gentleman lifted his eyebrows,
and said suggestively —

" Five hundred is the usual number !"

I now for the first time began to suspect a trap,
and replied —

" You expect me to take five hundred copies?"

" Every gentleman takes at least that ; sometimes
a thousand."

" And you expect me to pay for them ?"

" Oui, monsieur 1"

" Well, how much do you expect for five hundred
copies ?"

" A franc each is the usual price ; but we will say
three hundred and fifty francs for the whole."

" I understand you now : I furnished the article in
question at your request ; it was for your benefit, not
mine. It is of no advantage to me. If you expected
to be paid for it, you should have told me so ; you
would then have been saved the trouble of pursuing
the matter any further."

The stranger remonstrated, but I firmly refused to

486 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

give him an order for any copies of the publication
in question, and supposed I had got rid of the appli
cation. A few days afterward, however, I received
a long letter from the editors, to which, after some
reflection, I sent the following answer :

PARIS, February 7, 1853.
To the Editors of the " Archives des Homines du Jour."

Gentlemen — I have received, besides several other letters from
you, one of the 3d instant, which seems to demand an answer.

Some weeks since, you addressed me a complimentary note,
saying that you proposed to insert in the Archives des Homines
du Jour, a biographical sketch of myself, and desired me to fill
up with facts an outline which you sent me.

You gave me no intimation that you expected me to pay for
the proposed insertion. Nothing in the specimen of the Journal
you sent, led me to suspect that there was any lurking signifi
cation beneath your polite proposal. I judged of the matter by
my own experience, and very innocently supposing that I was
merely fulfilling a comity due to men of letters, I complied with
your request by getting a friend to furnish the facts you desired.

I have since learned that my experience in the United States
has not instructed me in all the customs of Paris.

When the article in question was in proof, a gentleman, pro
fessing to be your representative, called on me, and proposed to
furnish me with five hundred copies of the sketch, u at the ex
ceedingly low price of three hundred and fifty francs !" I replied
that I did not require nor desire any copies of the work ; that
while I appreciated the politeness of the editors of the Journal,
I had not sought the insertion of the biography, and knew of
no earthly interest of mine that could be promoted by it. I fur
ther stated that my sense of propriety would be shocked at the
idea of rendering pecuniary compensation for a eulogistic notice
of myself. For all these reasons I declined accepting the propo-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 487

sition, and the more emphatically, as it was very strongly urged
upon me.

All this was of course communicated to you : nevertheless, in
the letter referred to, you insist upon my paying for the inser
tion, and for five hundred extra copies, printed by you, after I
had positively refused to take them.

Your claim is urged on two grounds : first, that you have
expended money, and conferred on me a benefit ; and, second,
that what you ask is sanctioned by high example, and the prac
tice of years, and has therefore the force of an agreement be
tween you and me.

To this I beg to reply, of course judging from my point of
view, that I can not admit that you have done me a service. It
seems to me rather an occasion of humiliation to see one's self
praised in a journal, which must be regarded as a collection of
eulogistic biographies, paid for by the parties eulogized. What
ever may be the rank of the names, by the side of mine, the im
pression upon my mind is that of degradation.

In reply to your argument that I am bound by usage, permit
me to say that in order to make your logic effective, you should
show that the usage referred to is public and not secret, and
furthermore that it is a commendable usage.

Now, in this case, the practice of your journal is not stated, nor
intimated, either in the title-page or preface, or upon the cover,
nor did you state any thing of the kind in your note to mo. My
literary experience has never furnished me with an example of
a work conducted on these principles.

Perhaps it would be inconvenient to label your work accord
ing to its true character, and that may be a reason with you
for concealing it, but at the same time it excludes all idea of
mutuality of understanding between you and me, and puts an
end to your claim founded upon implied agreement. The con
sent of both parties is essential to a compact : in this case, you
have only the consent of yourselves.

As to the character of the usage you adopt, I am aware that

488 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

you cite high authority. You assure me that the " Emperor of
France," the " Queen of Spain," " Our holy Father the Pope,"
" Ministers of religion, Marshals of the empire, Councillors ot
State, with others down to the pettiest Consul," have all com
plied with your custom, and paid for their eulogies which appear
in your ten annual volumes of the " Archives des Homines du
Jour !" Had you not asserted this as a matter of fact, I should
have denied it as impossible, as a shame to literature, a scandal
against great names, a defamation of society and civilization in
France and in Europe. As you affirm it, however, I pronounce
no harsh judgment, and content myself by saying that while I
allow others to form standards of conduct for themselves, I must
claim and exercise the same privilege for myself.

The custom you insist upon, therefore, can form no rule for
me. I can not consent to pay for the insertion of the memoir,
as done in my behalf; certainly not for any extra copies of the
article itself. I inclose to you, however, one hundred and fifty
francs as penance for my ignorance and simplicity in this trans
action, with the request that, if convenient, my name may be
altogether obliterated from your journal.

I beg you to observe that in all this, I do not seek to impugn
your principles or your conduct : I simply state my own opinions,
and explain myself by reference to these, without insisting that
from your point of view you may not be as correct as I am,
from mine. Men's principles may differ, yet there is no neces
sity that irritation should follow.

I am sorry that any occasion should arise for so long and so
formal a letter as this : I trust, however, that it will prove sat
isfactory, and I am, very respectfully, yours,

S. G. GOODRICH.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 489

LETTER LX.

Character of the French Republic — Its Contrast with the American Repub
lic — Aspect of the Government in France — Louis Napoleon's ambitious
Designs — He Flatters the Army — Spreads Rumors of Socialist Plots —
Divisions in the National Assembly — A Levee at the Elysee — The Coup
cPEtat — Character of this Act — Napoleon's Government — Feelings of the
People.

MY DEAK C******

From the memoranda furnished in my prece
ding letter, you will comprehend the duties which
devolve upon the American Consul at Paris, and will
have glimpses of some of the particular incidents
which befell me while I was there in that capacity.
I must now give you a rapid sketch of certain public
events which transpired at that period, and which
will ever be regarded as among the most remarkable
in modern history.

I have told you how Louis Napoleon, in conse
quence of the Kevolution of 1848, became President
of the Republic. When I arrived in Paris, in April,
1851, he was officiating in that capacity, his residence
being the little palace of the Elysee Bourbon, situated
between the Faubourg St. Honore and the Champs
Elysees. The National Assembly, consisting of sev
en hundred and fifty members, held their sessions at
the building called the Chamber of Deputies.* The

* The National Assembly held its sessions in a temporary building
erected in the courtyard of the Chamber of Deputies, proper. This

21*

4:90 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

government had been in operation somewhat over
two years.

At this period France was a republic, but you will
not understand that its government bore any great
resemblance to our own, save in name. The Consti
tution had indeed been framed by a Convention,
called a Constituent Assembly, chosen for that pur
pose by the people : this had been submitted to them
and ratified by them ; and furthermore, the members
of the executive and legislative departments had all
been elected by general suffrage. The government,
therefore, rested upon the principle of popular sov
ereignty, but still, it was without those checks and
balances belonging to our system, and to which we
attribute its success. Ours is a Federal Eepublic,
a union of States, each a distinct, independent, and
sovereign power, save only as to national matters,
which are given over to the charge of a General
Government. This cantonal arrangement, which is
the great bulwark of our liberty, was wholly want
ing in the French Constitution. All the powers of
government — legislative and executive — for the en
tire kingdom, were centralized at Paris. There were
no safeguards interposed between this supreme, un
checked authority, and the people, and the result
showed that this defect was fatal. Our general gov-

was popularly called Pasteboard Hall. Louis Napoleon ordered it to
be demolished soon after the promulgation of his Constitution, some
weeks subsequent to the Coup d'Etat.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 491

ernment may attempt usurpation, but it will imme
diately be arrested by the State governments ; our
general government may go to pieces, but the fabric
of State government remains to shelter the people
from anarchy. Our legislative department is further
more divided into two bodies — the House and the
Senate, and these operate as checks upon each other.
Unhappily, the French system had neither of these
provisions, and as the republic had swallowed up
despotism, so despotism in turn speedily devoured
the republic.

To the casual observer, the external aspect of things
was not very different from what it had been under
the monarchy of Louis Philippe. It is true that the
palace of the Tuileries was vacant ; no royal coaches
were seen dashing through the avenues ; no image
and superscription of majesty frowned upon you from
the public monuments, which, on the contrary, every
where proclaimed " liberty, equality, fraternity." But
still, the streets were filled with soldiers as before.
Armed sentinels were stationed at the entrances of
all the public buildings. The barracks were as usual
swarming with soldiers, and large masses of horse
and foot were frequently trained at the Champ de
Mars and at Satory. Martial reviews and exercises
were, indeed, the chief amusement of the metropolis.
The President's house was a palace, and all around it
was bristling with bayonets. It was obvious that what
ever name the government might bear, military force

492 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

lay at the bottom of it, and if to-day this might be
its defense, to-morrow it might also be its overthrow.

It is now ascertained that Louis Napoleon, from
the beginning, had his mind fixed upon the restora
tion of the empire. In accepting the presidency of
the republic, and even in swearing fidelity to the
Constitution, he considered himself only as mount
ing the steps of the imperial throne. The French
have so long been accustomed to military despotism,
that they have no idea of government without it. The
people there have not the habit, so universal with us,
of obeying the law, through a sense of right ; they
must always have before them the cannon and the
bayonet, to enforce obedience. The framers of the
new Constitution, either having no conception of a
government unsupported by an army, or having no
faith that the French nation would observe laws rest
ing only upon moral obligation, gave to the chief
magistrate the actual command of a large body of
troops. With a view to prepare them to serve him,
in time of need, the President flattered the officers
and cajoled the men in various ways, even ordering
them in one instance to be served with champagne !

In order to prepare the nation for the revolution
which he meditated, Louis Napoleon caused agitating
and alarming rumors to be circulated, of a terrible plot,
planned by the democrats, republicans, and socialists
of France, the object of which was to overturn the
whole fabric of society, to destroy religion, to sweep

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 4:93

away the obligations of marriage, to strip the rich
of their property, and make a general distribution of
it among the masses. Other conspiracies, having sim
ilar designs, were said to exist in all the surrounding
countries of Europe, and the time was now near at
hand when the fearful explosion would take place.
The police of France, subject to the control and di
rection of the President, were instructed to discover
evidences of this infernal plot, and they were so suc
cessful, that the public mind was filled with a vague
but anxious apprehension that society was reposing
upon a volcano, which might soon burst forth and
overwhelm the whole country in chaos.

The National Assembly conducted in a manner to
favor these deep, sinister schemes of the President.
They were divided into four or five factions, and
spent their time chiefly in angry disputes and selfish
intrigues. A portion of them were monarchists, and
though they had acquired their seats by pledges of
devotion to the republic, they were now plotting its
overthrow, a part being for the restoration of the
Orleanists and a part for the Bourbons. Another fac
tion was for Louis Napoleon, and actively promoted
his schemes. By the Constitution he was ineligible
for a second term, and his friends were seeking the
means of overcoming this difficulty, and giving him
a re-election, by fair means or foul. The liberals
were divided into several shades of opinion, some
being republicans, after the model of General Ca-

494: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

vaignac ; some being democrats, like Victor Hugo ;
and some socialists, after the fashion of Pierre Le-
roux. In such a state of things, there was a vast
deal of idle debate, while the substantial interests of
the country seemed, if not totally forgotten, at least
secondary to the interests of parties, and the passions
and prejudices of individuals.

Thus, although France was a republic, it was ob
vious that the government had fallen into selfish
hands, and must perish. Louis Napoleon was only
waiting a favorable moment to enter upon his schemes
for its destruction. His plans rapidly advanced to
maturity. The terror he had excited of a grand so
cialist convulsion, naturally prepared the people of
property to look with favor upon any strong arm
that might save them from such a catastrophe ; the
people at large, even the masses, the friends of the
republic, were disgusted at the useless discussions,
frothy declamations, and factious intrigues of the
Assembly. Louis Napoleon watched his opportu
nity, and at last, every thing seeming to favor his
scheme, he entered upon it with a degree of boldness
which has few parallels in history.

I remember that on a certain Monday evening, the
1st of December, 1852, I was present at the Elysee,
and was then first introduced to Louis Napoleon. I
found him to be an ordinary-looking person, rather
under size, but well formed, having a large nose,
ratber large fishy eyes, and a dull expression. The

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 495

room was tolerably full, the company consisting, aa
is usual in such cases, of diplomats, military officers,
and court officials, with a sprinkling of citizens in
black coats — for hitherto the requisition of a court
uniform had not been imposed. This, you will re
member, was under the Republic ; the rule which
raised the black coat to a question of state, grew out
of the Empire. Nevertheless, I was forcibly struck
by the preponderance of soldiers in the assembly,
and I said several times to my companions, that it
seemed more like a camp than a palace. The whole
scene was dull ; the President himself appeared preoc
cupied, and was not master of his usual urbanity;
Gen. Magnan walked from room to room with a ru
minating air, occasionally sending his keen glances
around, as if searching for something which he could
not find. There was no music, no dancing. That
gayety which almost always pervades a festive party
in Paris, was wholly wanting. There was no ringing
laughter, no merry hum of conversation. I noticed
all this, but I did not suspect the cause. At eleven
o'clock the assembly broke up, and the guests de
parted. At twelve, the conspirators, gathered for
their several tasks, commenced their operations.

About four in the morning, the leading members of
the Assembly were seized in their beds, and hurried
to prison. Troops were distributed at various points,
so as to secure the city. When the light of day
came, proclamations were posted at the corners of the

496 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

streets announcing to the citizens that the National
Assembly was dissolved, that universal suffrage was
decreed, that the Kepublic was established! Such
was the general unpopularity of the Assembly, that
the first impression of the people was that of delight
at its overthrow. Throughout the first day, the
streets of Paris were like a swarming hive, filled
with masses of people, yet for the most part in good-
humor. The second day they had reflected, and be
gan to frown, but yet there was no general spirit of
revolt. A few barricades were attempted, but the
operators were easily dispersed. The third day came,
and although there was some agitation among the
masses, there was evidently no preparation, no com
bination for general resistance. As late as ten o'clock
in the forenoon, I met one of the republicans whom I
knew, and asked him what was to be done. His re
ply was :

" We can do nothing : our leaders are in prison ;
we are bound hand and foot. I am ready <to give my
life at the barricades, if with the chance of benefit ;
but I do not like to throw it away. We can do
nothing!"

Soon after this, I perceived heavy columns of
troops, some four thousand men, marching through
the Eue de la Paix, and then proceeding along the
Boulevards toward the Porte St. Denis. These were
soon followed by a body of about a thousand horse
I was told that similar bodies were moving to the

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 497

same point through other avenues of the city. In a
short time the whole Boulevard, from the Hue de la
Paix to the Place de la Bastille, an extent of two
miles, was filled with troops. My office was on the
Boulevard des Italiens, and was now fronted by a
dense body of lancers, each man with his cocked
pistol in his hand. Except the murmur of the horses'
hoofs, there was a general stillness over the city. The
sidewalks were filled with people, and though there
was no visible cause for alarm, there was still a vague
apprehension which cast pallor and gloom upon the
faces of all.

Suddenly a few shots were heard in the direction
of the Boulevard Montmartre, and then a confused
hum, and soon a furious clatter of hoofs. A moment
after, the whole body of horse started into a gallop,
and rushed by as if in flight ; presently they halted,
however, wheeled slowly, and gradually moved back,
taking up their former position. The men looked
keenly at the houses on either side, and pointed
their pistols threateningly at all whom they saw at
the windows. It afterward appeared, that when the
troops had been drawn out in line and stationed
along the Boulevard, some half dozen shots were
fired into them from the tops of buildings and from
windows ; this created a sudden panic ; the troops
ran, and crowding upon others, caused the sudden
movement I have described. In a few moments,
the heavy, sickening sound of muskets came from

498 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

the Porte St. Denis. Volley succeeded volley, and
after some time the people were seen rushing madly
along the pavements of the Boulevard as if to escape.
The gate of our hotel was now closed, and at the
earnest request of the throng that had gathered for
shelter in the court of the hotel, I put out the " Stars
and Stripes" — the first and last time that I ever
deemed it necessary. The dull roar of muskets, with
the occasional boom of cannon, continued at intervals
for nearly half an hour. Silence at last succeeded,
and the people ventured into the streets.

About four in the afternoon, I walked for a mile
along the Boulevard. The pavements were strewn
with the fragments of shattered windows, broken
cornices, and shivered doorways. Many of the build
ings, especially those on the southern side of the
street, were thickly spattered with bullet-marks, espe
cially around the windows. One edifice was riddled
through and through with cannon-shot. Frequent
spots of blood stained the sidewalk, and along the
Boulevard Montmartre, particularly around the door
ways, there were pools like those of the shambles;
it being evident that the reckless soldiers* had shot
down in heaps the fugitives who, taken by surprise,

* The soldiers fired upon all they saw in the streets. An old woman
going along with a loaf of bread, had a bullet put through her; an
apothecary, who ventured to appear at his door, instantly received a
ball in his forehead. Files of soldiers poured their volleys upon the
innocent people passing along the Boulevard ; shote were fired at the
windows of private houses ; seven persons were killed in a bookseller's
shop. One of my friends saw seventeen dead bodies in one gutter.

HISTORICAL, ANECPOTICAL, ETC. 499

strove to obtain shelter at the entrances of the hotels
upon the street. It was a sight to sicken the heart,
especially of an American, who is not trained to
these scenes of massacre. Toward evening a portion
of the troops moved away; the rest remained, and
bivouacked in the streets for the night. At ten
o'clock, I again visited the scene, and was greatly
struck with the long line of watch-fires, whose fitful
lights, reflected by dark groups of armed men, only
rendered the spectacle more ghastly and gloomy.

Of the whole number killed in Paris during this,
the third day of the Coup d'Etat, we have no certain
account : it is generally estimated at from one thou
sand to fifteen hundred. I have told you that the
press was silenced, save two or three papers, which
told the whole story so as to justify the conduct of
Louis Napoleon. These represented that the Na
tional Assembly were plotting for his overthrow by
violent means, and thus would make it appear that
his conduct was not only justifiable as an act of
self-preservation, but necessary in view of the public
good. It is important to state, however, that al
though the agents of the usurper seized upon the
papers of the suspected members at their own houses,
and at a moment of surprise, no sufficient proofs have
yet been adduced of the alleged treason of the Assem-

These persons thus slaughtered were not rioters, working at barricades ;
they were mostly gentlemen, and hence it was culled the massacre of
the " kid gloves." The soldiers had undoubtedly been stimulated by
liquor to qualify them to perform this work of butchery.

500 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

bly. The apologists of the Coup d'Etat have further
declared that the massacre along the Boulevards
which I have described, was a measure of stern ne
cessity, in order to repress the insurgent socialists.
The fact seems rather to be that it was a cool and
calculated slaughter of innocent persons, in order to
show the power and spirit of the Dictator, and to
strike with paralyzing fear those who should venture
to oppose him.

The morning came, and the triumph of the reign
of terror was complete. What was enacted in Paris,
was imitated all over France. Nearly every depart
ment was declared in a state of siege; revolt was
punished with death, and doubt or hesitation with
imprisonment. Forty thousand persons were hurried
to the dungeons, without even the form or pretense of
trial. All over the country the press was silenced, as
it had been in Paris, save only a few obsequious prints,
which published what was dictated to them. These
declared that all this bloodshed and violence were
the necessary result of the socialist conspiracy, which
threatened to overturn society ; happily, as they con
tended, Louis Napoleon, like a beneficent providence,
had crushed the monster, and he now asked the
people to ratify what he had done, by making him
President for ten years. In the midst of agitation,
delusion, and panic, the vote was taken, and the
usurpation was legalized by a vote of eight millions
of suffrages 1 The nominal Kepublic, but real Die-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 501

tatorship, thus established, was soon made to give
way to the Empire ; the ambitious plotter reached the
imperial throne, and now stands before the world as
Napoleon III. !

It is impossible for us Americans to look upon the
conduct of the chief actor in this startling drama,
but with reprobation. "We regard constitutions, rat
ified by the people, as sacred ; we consider oaths to
support them as pledges of character, faith, honor,
truth — all that belongs to manhood. We look upon
blood shed for mere ambition, as murder. The Amer
ican people must be totally changed in religion, mor
als, feelings, and political associations, before they
could cast their votes for a ruler whose lips were
stained with perjury, and whose hands were red
with the slaughter of their fellow- citizens. But the
French nation is of a different moral constitution ;
their tastes, experience, souvenirs, are all different.
They are accustomed to perfidy on the part of their
rulers; violence and crime, wrought for ambition,
have stained the paths of every dynasty that has ruled
over them for a space of fourteen centuries. France
is trained to these things, and hence the public taste,
the prevailing sentiments of society, are not greatly
shocked at them. The people there do not reckon
with a successful usurper as they would with an or
dinary man acting in the common business of life ;
when they see him installed in the Tuileries they
forget his treacheries and his massacres — the means

502 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

by which he attained his power — and cry "Yive
1'Empereur!" Even the Church now looks upon
Louis Napoleon's conduct with approbation, and
burns incense and sings Te Deums in his behalf, as
the savior of religion, family, society.

And it must be admitted that, since his acquisi
tion of a throne, Louis Napoleon has conducted the
government with ability, and he has certainly been
seconded by fortune. He married a lady who, after
becoming an empress, shed luster upon her high
position by her gentle virtues and gracious manners.
He engaged in the Eastern War, and has triumphed.
He has greatly improved and embellished the capital,
and made Paris the most charming city in the world ;
nowhere else does life seem to flow on so cheerfully
and so tranquilly as here. He has gradually softened
the rigors of his government — and though some noble
spirits still pine in exile,* he has taken frequent ad-

* The number of individuals exiled by the Coup d'Etat amounted to
several thousands — some of the more obnoxious persons being sent to
Cayenne, Noukahiva, and Lambessa in Algeria. Others were only
banished from France ; a portion of these have since had permission to
return. Among those still excluded is Victor Hugo, no doubt the most
eloquent writer and orator now living. He lias continued to make the
island of Jersey his residence. Two other exiles of some note are
Ledru Rollin and Louis Blanc, members of the Provisional Government,
and whose misconduct contributed largely to the overthrow of the re
public. These have remained in England. Lamoriciere, Changarnier,
Charras, and Bedeau, all distinguished officers, are in Belgium or
Germany.

Cavaignac, who was imprisoned with other members of the Assem
bly, was speedily released. He is believed to be a sound republican,
somewhat according to our American ideas. He is permitted to reside
in France, but takes no part in public affairs. Lamartine, a fine poet,

' A ' • "'.*''.'':•'•, •' /.
•*'/*'.j.,j i -.»:*•,;• :/.'

fT1:

* *,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 503

vantage of opportunity to diminish the number. The
people of France, at the present time, appear to be
satisfied with the government, and probably a very
large majority, could the question be proposed to
them, would vote for its continuance.

Beneath this smooth and tranquil surface there
may be, and no doubt is, a smouldering fire of dis
content, and which will seek the first opportunity to
explode. Louis Napoleon rules only by the vigorous
and watchful "power of despotism, and it is not in the
nature of the French people to endure this for a long
period of time. The existing empire can hardly be
perpetuated beyond the life of him who has created
it ; indeed, its present strength lies much more in the
fear of anarchy, which is certain to follow if that be
removed, than from any love for the system itself, or
of him who has imposed it upon the country.

a captivating1 orator, an elegant writer, and withal a man whose heart is
full of every noble sentiment, escaped the indignity of imprisonment,
and he too is allowed to live in his native land. But his lips are sealed
as to every political question, and his only communication with his
countrymen and with mankind is through literature, carefully divested
of every thought and feeling pertaining to current politics. Every au
thor in France, indeed, wears a muzzle which only permits him to
breathe such thoughts as cannot offend the powers that be.

504 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

LETTER LXI.

Meeting in Paris to commemorate the Death of Clay and Webster — Termi
nation of my Consular Duties — Character of the French Nation — The
Black-coat Circular.

MY DEAR 0******

As this chapter must bring me to the end of my
residence in Paris, you will permit me to crowd into
it a variety of topics, without regard to chronological
order or continuity of narrative.

In the autumn of 1852, the news came that Daniel
Webster was no more. Under any circumstances,
the decease of such a person would cause a deep and
pervading emotion, but the manner of Mr. Webster's
death imparted to it a peculiar degree of interest.
The closing scene was, in fact, appropriate to his
character, his noble person, his gigantic intellect, his
great fame. It was remarked by an eminent states
man in England, that Mr. Webster's was the most
sublime death of modern times. The European pa
pers were filled with details of the event. The
Americans in Paris, on hearing the tidings, deemed
it proper to assemble for the purpose of giving ex
pression to their emotions. As Mr. Clay had died
only a few months before, it was resolved at the same
time to pay due homage to his memory.

The meeting, consisting of several hundred persons,
mostly Americans, was held in the splendid salon of

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 505

the Cercle des Deux Mondes, Boulevard Montmartre.
Mr. Kives, our minister, made an eloquent and touch
ing address, delineating the remarkable qualities of
these two men, and comparing Mr. Clay to the Mis
sissippi, which spreads its fertilizing waters over the
boundless regions of the West, and Mr. Webster to
the resistless Niagara, emptying seas at a plunge, and
shaking all around with its echoing thunders. Mr.
Barnard, our minister to the Court of Berlin, paid a
full and hearty tribute to the memory of Mr. Webster ;
he was followed by Mr. George Wood, of New York,
and Franklin Dexter, of Boston, who also made el
oquent and feeling addresses. M. Bois Lecompte,
former minister of France to the United States, and
well acquainted with the two great men whose death
we had met to commemorate, closed with a beautiful
eulogy upon each.

In the summer of 1853, 1 was politely advised from
the State Department that President Pierce had ap
pointed my successor in the consulate. Thus, having
held the place a little over two years, on the 1st of
August, 1853,* I was restored to the privileges of

* I shall, I trust, be excused for inserting in a note the following,
which I take from Galignuui's Paris Messenger of December 15th, 1854:
MR. GOODRICH, THE LATE CONSUL OF THE UNITKD STATES OF AMERICA AT
PARIS.— The Americans in Paris lately presented to Mr. Goodrich a
medallion executed in vermeil, by the distinguished artist, Adam-Salo
mon, with the following inscription encircling an admirable portrait of
the consul, in relief —

" To S. O. Goodrich, Consul of the United States of America at Paris,
presented by his countrymen in that City, August 1st, 1858."

VOL. II.— 22

506 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

private citizen life. As I had various engagements
which forbade me immediately to leave France, I
hired a small house in Courbevoie, which I made my
residence till my departure for America in the sum
mer of 1855.

This naturally brings me to the close of my story,

The following correspondence, which took place between the parties,
is creditable to all concerned :

"PARIS, September 5th, 1854.
"To S. G. GOODRICH, ESQ.—

"It is my very agreeable duty to present you, herewith, a medal
lion, executed at the request of a number of your American friends at
Paris. It is destined alike as a token of personal respect, and an expres
sion of the universal gratification among your countrymen at the manner
in which you discharged your duties while consul of the United States
here. Not content with a merely formal fulfillment of your official obli
gations, you made your position eminently agreenble and useful to your
countrymen, and at the same time rendered it subservient to the best
interests of our common country. On these points there is but one
opinion; and, therefore, in making this offering, in behalf of your nu
merous friends, I am instructed to add their congratulations that noth
ing can deprive you of the good-will and good opinion so legitimately
obtained. I am, sir, respectfully yours,

"'FRANCIS WARDEN."

" PARIS, September 16th, 1354.

" My Dear Sir: — I have this day had the pleasure of receiving your
letter, with the accompanying testimonial of personal regard and appro
bation of my official conduct, presented by you in behalf of my American
friends in Paris. I need not say that I receive these unexpected tokens
of kindness with great satisfaction, rendered doubly gratifying by the
fact that they come when all know that I have only the humble thanks
of a private citizen to give in return. While I thus acknowledge and
cherish the compliment my friends have paid me, I feel bound to say
that I had been already compensated for any personal sacrifices I had
made to obligations lying beyond the mere routine of official duty, while
J held the consulate in Paris. During that period, a space of little over
two years, more than five hundred letters of introduction were presented
to me, and I received at my house several thousands of my countrymen,
Btrangers in this city ; yet the instances were extremely rare in which an
American trespassed either upon my time or my feelings. On the con-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 507

so far as it relates to France. Were it pertinent to
my design, I should give you some sketches of the
French people — of their character and manners,
which, in their minuter shadings, are not well ap
preciated in the United States. We readily compre
hend England and the English people, because their
language, their institutions, their genius, are similar
to our own ; but in France we find a different lan
guage, a different religion, different institutions — in
short, a different civilization. In England, Sunday
is a holy day, in France a holiday, and this fact is a
sort of index to the difference between these two
countries in regard to opinion, society, life. In Eng
land, the future exercises a powerful influence over
the mind ; in France, it is thought best to enjoy the
present ; England would improve the world, France
would embellish it; England founds colonies, plants
nations, establishes the useful arts; France refines
manners, diffuses the fine arts, and spreads taste and
elegance over Christendom. In England the people
live in separate buildings, apart from one another, each
man claiming that his house is his castle ; in France,

trary, I was day by day more than rewarded for any services rendered,
by the agreeable intercourse of persons so universally intelligent, so little
requiring, and so instinctively perceiving and observing the proprieties
of every situation in which they were placed. I take great pleasure in
recording a fact so creditable to our countrymen, even though it may
deprive me of all claims to the merits which the kindness of my friends
assigns to my conduct. I have the honor to be,

" With great respect, yours, &c.,
" FRANCIS WARDEN, ESQ. " S. G. GOODRICH."

508 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

they live congregated in hotels, one family above
another, like the different layers of honeycomb in
a hive. The Englishman finds his chief happiness at
his fireside, the Frenchman in the sympathy of con
gregated masses. In England, the best points of
the people are seen in the domestic circle ; in France,
in the salon. In all these things, English ideas are
germain to our own, and hence we readily under
stand them, enter into them, appreciate them. As to
France, it is otherwise ; words there have a different
sense, things a different use from that we are accus
tomed to, and hence, in order to understand the ge
nius of the French nation and to do full justice to it,
it is necessary to consider them from their point of
view. After all that has been said and done, a work
describing French society, manners, and institutions,
is still a desideratum. This can not be supplied by
the hasty sketches of racing travelers ; it must be the
work of a laborious and careful student, who unites
experience and observation to a large and liberal
philosophy, which on the one hand can resist the
artifices of taste and the blandishments of luxury,
and on the other, appreciate good things, even
though they may not bear the patent-mark of his
own prepossessions. Of course, you will not expect
me to begin such a work in the closing pages of these
fugitive letters.*

* 1 had intended to say a few words in respect to the leading liter
ary persons of France, at the present day, but in entering upon the

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 509

I duly received your letter asking my opinion upon
the " black-coat question." Mr. Marcy's celebrated
circular respecting diplomatic and consular costume
was not issued, or at least did not reach me, till
after I had ceased to exercise the consular functions ;
nevertheless, as I had some opportunity to form a

subject I find it too extensive. I may, however, name in a single par
agraph, Alexandre Dumas, whose versatility, fecundity, and capacity
for labor are without parallel, and whose genius has placed him at the
head of living novelists and dramatists, in spite of his notorious charla
tanry and love of publicity ; Adolphe Dumas, his son, whose three plays
illustrative of the manners of equivocal society and of the life of aban
doned women has made him rich at the age of thirty-one — a fact \ cry
suggestive as to the state of Parisian society; Lamartine, whose humble
apartments in the Eue de la Ville I'Eveqne are constantly filled with the
admiring friends of the impoverished poet and the disowned politician ;
Alphonse Karr, whose caustic satires upon vice, folly, and prevalent
abuses, published once a week, have made him a valuable reformer;
Ampere, the traveler and linguist, whose work upon the United States is
perhaps the most just that has yet been written by a foreigner ; Eiuile de
Girardin, whose innovation in editorial writing — consisting of the con
stant recurrence of the aUnea, or paragraph, each one of which contains a
distinct proposition, deduced from the previous one and leading directly
to that which follows — was one of the features of the Presse which pro
duced its immense popularity; Scribe, the indefatigable playwright and
librettist ; Mery, the poet-laureate or court poetaster; Ponsard, whose two
comedies in verse, " L'Honneur et 1'Argent" and "La Bourse," are rap
idly carrying him to a chair in the Academy; Beranger, hale and active
at the age of seventy-six, and the most popular man in France; Gustavo
Plane-he, the critic and the terror of authors; Jules Janin, the dramatic
critic, whose long labors have been totally unproductive of good to either
actor or dramatist ; Madame de Girardin — recently deceased — whose
one act drama of " La Joie fait Peur" is the most profound piece of
psychological dissection in existence ; and Madame Dudcvant, alias
George Sand, whose power of painting the finer and more hidden
emotions of the soul is unrivaled.

1 mn.st add a word in respect to Madame Ristori, the Italian tngtdfcBlM
who has recently caused such a thrill of excitement in Paris. SI
nothing more remarkable than in her contrast to Kacliel. The latter is
the pupil of art, the former of nature. Rachel always plays the same part
in the same manner. Every tone, every gesture is studied profoundly,

510 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

judgment of the measure, I freely give you my im
pressions upon the subject.

You understand that the State Department, at dif
ferent periods, lias made certain regulations in re
spect to the diplomatic and consular service, so far
even as to prescribe their official dress. The main
body of these rules, as they had existed for many
years, was drawn up, I believe, by Mr. Livingston,
while Secretary of State under Gen. Jackson. The
diplomatic dress consisted of a blue coat and blue pan
taloons decorated with gold embroidery, and a white
waistcoat. It had a general resemblance to the diplo
matic costume of other countries, though it was of
the simplest form. The consular dresf was similar,
though the naval button of the United States was
prescribed, and the whole costume had a sort of naval
air. Diplomats and consuls wore sma1! swords, but
no epaulets.

Nevertheless, Mr. Marcy, soon after his accession to
the State Department, under President Pierce, issued
a circular requiring consuls to give up these costumes
altogether ; as to diplomats, it was recommended,
though not enjoined, that they should appear before

and always comes in at the same time and place. Ristori enters into
the play with her whole soul, and acts as her feeling? dictate. She is of
somewhat light complexion, with hazel eyes and brown hair; she has
correct features, and off the stage is of grave, lady-likf; manners and ap
pearance. On the stage she seems to work miracles. I have seen her in
Marie Stuart, while on her knees at confession, by e slight continued
movement upward make the audience feel as if she were actually as
cending to heaven, personally and before their eyes !

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, KTC. 511

foreign courts in simple black. This was urged on
the ground that plainness of attire was proper to
the representatives of a republic, and it was to be re
gretted that we had ever departed from the simplicity
adopted by Dr. Franklin in appearing before the
court of Louis XVI.

It would seem that these are very narrow grounds
for a departure from the usages of the civilized
world, our own government among the number, and
in which Jefferson and Monroe, Adams and Jay,
Ellsworth and King, had participated. All these,
aye and Dr. Franklin* too, notwithstanding the cur
rent notion that he forced his Quaker clothes upon
the court of Louis XVL, wore their court costume,
simply because custom required it. There is no
doubt that they were more respected, and served
their country with more effect than they would have
done, had they insisted upon shocking the public

* It is said, and I believe truly, that Dr. Franklin's appearance at
the court of Louis XVI. in a plain suit of drab cloth, and which for a
brief space intoxicated the giddy beau monde of Paris, was accidental:
his court suit not arriving in time, and the king, who waited anxiously
to receive him, requesting that he would come as ho was. Whether this
was so or not, I believe there is no doubt that Dr. Franklin afterward
adopted a court suit, consisting of a black velvet embroidered coat, and
black small-clothes, with a small sword. Dr. Franklin was a man of
too much sense to undertake to shock established tastes by an otii-n-ivi1.
departure from what was esteemed propriety. All the portraits of him
taken while he was cur ambassador at the French court, show that he
was accustomrd to drc-s handsomely. I have a copy of one by (irou/.c,
which represents him in a green silk dressing-gown, cd^'-d with fur, a
light-colored satia waistcoat, with a frill at the bosom. Such a dress,
for an elderly gentleman in his study, would now-a-days be considered
almost foppish.

512 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

taste by what would have been deemed an indecorum
if not an indecency — that is, appearing in common
clothes on occasions in which etiquette demanded a
special and appropriate attire.

As to the assumption that simplicity of attire is
characteristic of republicans, I think there is less
of reason in it than of cant. It happens that the
particular form of our government excludes all dis
tinctions of rank, and hence the badges which desig
nate these, would be without meaning among us.
But with this single exception, we in the United
States are as much given to display in dress and
equipage as any other people on the globe. We have
our military and naval costumes, and these are among
the richest in the world: foppery is one of the noto
rious qualities of all our militia companies. Both our
men and women think more of display in dress than
those of other nations. When our people get to Eu
rope, they distinguish themselves by going to the
height of fashion in all things. At the court introduc
tions in Paris, I always remarked that the Americans
— men as well as women — were more sumptuously,
and it may be added, more tastefully, attired than
most others. Even at the new imperial court of Paris,
the American ladies not only stood first in point of
beauty, but also in the display of mantles, trains, and
diamonds. New Orleans, Virginia, Pennsylvania,
New York, Boston, had each its representative, and
splendid specimens they were If the American

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 513

Minister had come to introduce these, his countrywo
men, to their imperial majesties, and had claimed the
privilege of wearing a black coat because simplicity
belongs to republicans, I imagine that every observer
would have marked the contrast between the pretense
and the performance.

Thus, though we may be republicans, we are in fact
a sumptuous people, addicted to display, and exceed
ingly fond of being in the midst of stars and garters.
We think the more of these things, doubtless, for the
very reason that they are strange to our manners.
Every American who goes to London or Paris, wishes
to be introduced at court, and seems to feel that this
is his privilege. It is not so with any other nation ;
no English man or woman, in Paris, asks to be pre
sented at the Tuileries, unless it be a person of high
social or official rank.

These being characteristics of our people, and per
fectly well understood abroad, Mr. Marcy's black-
coat circular created no little surprise. It was gen
erally regarded as a mere appeal to the lower classes
in America, who might be supposed to entertain the
sentiments of the sans-culottes, and as such, it was
treated with little respect. Nevertheless, had the gov
ernment prescribed a black dress, for its diplomats, no
court in Europe would have made the slightest ob
jection. Such a measure would no doubt have sub
jected us to criticism, perhaps to ridicule, as a matter
of taste ; it would have been offensive, inasmuch as it

22*

514 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

would have seemed designed as a rebuke of the man
ners and customs of older and more refined nations
than ourselves. We should have been considered as
reading a lecture to European courts, in this wise —
" Look at us, republicans, and behold how we despise
the trappings of royalty, and the gaud of courts ; look
at our black coats, and go ye and do likewise!" Nev
ertheless, it is perfectly well understood in Europe
that any government may regulate the costume of its
representatives, and had Mr. Marcy's circular made it
obligatory upon the American diplomatic corps to
wear black, or white, or red, or any other color, not
the slightest exception would have been taken to it
by any court in the world.

This, however, was not the course adopted by the
government ; they merely recommended, they did not
prescribe, the black coat. The situation of all our min
isters, charges, and secretaries, therefore, at once be
came extremely awkward.* The diplomatic business

* The desire of our ministers to satisfy the government at home, as
well as to take advantage of the popular outburst in favor of the black
coat, and at the same time to avoid the ridicule which they knew would
attach to their appearing in a common dress at court, led to humiliating
devices. Mr. Soule adopted the shad-bellied, black velvet embroidered
coat and small-clothes of the Municipal Council of Paris, said also to
have been used by Dr. Franklin. Mr. Buchanan wore a black or
blue coat, white waistcoat, small-clothes, silk stockings, a sword, and
chupeuu bras ! Mr. Dallas is understood to have adopted the same cos
tume. If we sympathize with these gentlemen for being forced into
such humiliating subterfuges, we ought to bestow more serious con
demnation upon those who led them into temptation. In some of the
northern courts of Europe, I believe our diplomats have adopted the
simple black coat.

I understand that the Consul of Alexandria, whose functions are part-

HISTOEICAL, ANECDOTIC AL, ETC. 515

of all countries is transacted between the ambassador
and the ministers, and when these persons meet,
there is no ceremony. They come together like mer
chants or lawyers, in their ordinary dress. All the
actual business of a foreign minister may therefore be
transacted without any particular costume.

But sovereigns surround themselves with a certain
etiquette, and they require all who approach them to
conform to this. When Queen Victoria invites per
sons to visit her, it is of course upon condition that
they adopt the usages of the court. No one, what
ever his rank or station, can claim exemption from
this rule. It must be remembered that on all such
occasions, the invitation is considered a compliment,
and hence well-bred persons, who take advantage of
it, feel constrained, by self-respect and a sense of pro
priety, scrupulously to regard and fulfill the condi
tions upon which this invitation is bestowed.

Now, it must be remembered that what is called a
court costume, is only required of a minister on
occasions of mere ceremony or festivity, when he
appears by invitation of the sovereign. If he comes,
it is not to transact business, but for amusement. He

ly diplomatic, wears a blue coat with thirty-one stars, wrought in gold,
on the collar. This is a beautiful idea, and might suggest to our gov
ernment a very simple and appropriate consular and diplomatic cos
tume. Some costume— distinct and national and perfectly understood
in all countries — is really important, as well for our consuls as diplo
mats. Those who insist upon the black coat, show a total ignorance of
the duties and position of our public officers abroad, and of the nation/,
among whom they officiate.

516 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

may stay away, and nothing belonging to his diplo
matic affairs will suffer. Why, then, if he accepts
the invitation, should he not conform to the pre
scribed usages of the court ? It is generally consid
ered evidence of a want of gentlemanly breeding, an
act of positive vulgarity, for any person to take ad
vantage of a polite invitation, and refuse to conform
to the conditions imposed by the host. Above all,
it would seem that an ambassador, representing a
nation before a foreign court, should be scrupulous
to observe the known and established rules of deco
rum.

It must be remembered that propriety of costume
— that is, a dress suited to the taste and fashion pre
vailing where it is worn, is in all civilized countries
a matter of decency. It has been so among all re
fined nations, and from the earliest ages. One of the
most solemn of our Saviour's parables is founded
upon a breach of decorum in regard to costume — the
appearance of a man at the wedding of the king's son,
without a wedding garment. Similar ideas are just
as current among us as elsewhere. If a clergyman
were to go into the pulpit dressed in a military coat,
it would shock the whole audience, and be considered
an insult alike to them and to the clerical profession.
If a lady issues cards of invitation to a ball, and a
man, who takes advantage of the invitation, comes
in a sailor's roundabout, he would be held as an ill-
bred fellow, and as such would be turned out of

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 517

doors. He may plead that he had simply cut off
the tail of his coat, and as he considered an artificial
appendage of this kind derogatory to a free-born
man, his principles forbade him to wear it. The an
swer is, you are welcome to carry out your principles,
but if you accept an invitation given to you out of
politeness, it is expected and required that you con
form to the known usages and decencies of society.

Now in monarchical countries long usage has es
tablished it in the public mind, that to appear at
court* without a court costume, would be a species of
indecency, an offense against the company present, as
well as the parties giving the invitation. We may
rail at it as much as we please in this country, yet
we can not alter the fact I state.

Taking the matter in this point of view, let us
consider the situation of our diplomatic representa
tives under Mr. Marcy's circular. Had the black
coat been prescribed, as I have said before, there
would have been an end of the matter. Our minis
ters and charges would have been dressed in black,
that is, like the servants of a cafe, while all around

* In general, a person who should attempt to enter at a court recep
tion, without a proper costume, would be stopped at the door : if ho
should, by accident, gain admittance, he would probably be invited to
leave the room. A professional dress, as that of a soldier, a i-Krry-
man, &c., is considered a proper costume at Paris, and I believe at
most other courts. If a person is not professional, he must wear either
the prescribed costume of his own country, or that of the court to which
he is introduced The British minister will introduce no one at a for
eign court, who has not been previously presented to the Queen at
home.

518 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

them would have appeared in appropriate costumes ;
and thus, in the midst of an assemblage, consisting
of the most exalted rank, the highest refinement, the
most distinguished ability — the representative of the
United States would either have passed unnoticed as
a servant, or been remarked upon as an object of
ridicule, perhaps of contempt. That would have
been all.

But this condition of things was not vouchsafed to
our ministers : if they obeyed the circular, and car
ried the black coat to court, it was known to be in
some degree voluntary, and was so far the more
offensive on the part of the individual wearing it.
Mr. Sanford, our Charge at Paris, acting from a just
regard to the wishes of his government, tried the ex
periment under many advantages. He was a young
gentleman of good address, and held a respectable
position in the higher circles of society connected with
the court. He was admitted to the Tuileries in his
black suit, but was of course an object of much ob
servation and comment. His character — personal
and official — protected him from indignity, either of
word or look, but the act was considered offensive
as well in the palace as in the various branches of
society in connection with it. About this time Louis
Napoleon was forming his new imperial court, and
seeking to give it every degree of splendor. He
had prescribed rich costumes for his officers, mili
tary and civil, and had directed that their wives

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 519

should appear in their most splendid attire. All
the persons connected with the court entered into
this spirit. For the American Charge to present
himself in simple black, at this particular time,
looked like rebuke, and was, I believe, regarded in
this light. Had Mr. Sanford continued in his office
at Paris, and had he persevered, he would, perhaps,
by his amiable personal character and pleasing ad
dress, have removed these difficulties, though it is
quite as possible that he might have found his situa
tion intolerable, not from open affront, but from those
sly yet galling attacks, which the polished habitues
of courts know so well how to make, even in the midst
of smiles and seeming caresses. As it happened, Mr.
Mason soon after arrived in Paris as full minister,
and appreciating the result of Mr. Sanford's experi
ment, adopted the usual diplomatic costume.

For my own part, I can not see the utility of ma
king ourselves disagreeable, and at the same time
jeoparding the real interests of our country, in such
a matter as that of the dress of our diplomatic repre
sentatives. Our policy should be to cultivate peace
with all the world, but it would seem of late that our
desire is rather to array all the nations against us.
"Within the last three years we have lost nearly all our
friends in Europe. The Ostend Congress, with its start
ling doctrines, produced a deep and pervading feeling
of reprehension, and the circulars of " Citizen Saun-
ders" created still more lively emotions of irritation

520 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

and resentment.* The character and conduct of sev
eral of our consuls and diplomats, in different parts
of Europe, together with our Secretary's well-meant
attempts to improve the taste of the European courts
in the matter of dress, have all contributed to degrade
the American name in foreign countries.

Such are, briefly, my views of Mr. Marcy's diplo
matic circular. It seems to have been ill advised, and
though its motive was no doubt good, it must have
been adopted without full inquiry into the subject.
Had the State Department taken the precaution to
address our ministers and consuls on the subject, the
answer would have been such as to have prevented
the ridicule brought upon the country by this meas
ure. The present state of things is embarrassing to
our foreign ministers, and derogatory to the country.
The true plan is to adopt some simple and appro
priate costume, and make it obligatory. If the black
coat is to be preferred, then let it be prescribed, so

* Mr. Saunders' Circulars were addressed, one to the President of
the Swiss Cantons and the other to the French people — the latter being
of a very incendiary character. These were translated into various
languages, and scattered all over Europe, by the Italian and French
exiles in London. I saw one of these, with a preface by Saffi, in which
he stated that the writer, Citizen Saunders, was Consul General of the
United States in Great Britain, that he was very intimate with Mr. Bu
chanan, the American minister at London, and thus conveying the idea
that he spoke officially, in some degree, for the United States. A certain
authority was lent to these documents by the statement that they were
circulated in France under the seal of the American Legation in Lon
don. To judge of the effect produced by all this, let us consider what
would be the feeling of our people, if some foreign official should im-
dertake to teach us our duty, and should even call upon us to cut the
throats of our rulers !

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICA.L, ETC. 621

that the responsibility may fall on the government
and not on him who wears it. And one thing more :
let us be consistent ; if republicanism requires sim
plicity, and black is to be our national color, let the
" fuss and feathers" of the army and navy be dis
missed, and the general as well as the private soldier
appear in " the black coat !"

LETTER LXII.

Viiit to Italy — Florence — Rome — Naples.
MY DEAR C******

In the autumn of 1854 I set out with my family
for a brief visit to Italy. With all my wanderings I
had never seen this far-famed land, and as I was not
likely ever to have another opportunity, I felt it to
be a kind of duty to avail myself of a few unappro
priated weeks, for that object.

It is not my purpose to give you the details of my
travels or my observations. A mere outline must
suffice. Embarking in a steamer at Marseilles, we
soon reached Genoa. Here we went ashore for a few
hours, and then returning to our vessel, proceeded on
to Leghorn. Taking the railroad at this place, we
wound among the hills, and, having passed Pisa,
catching a glimpse of its Leaning Tower, arrived at
Florence. In this journey of five days, we had
passed from Paris to the center of Italy.

522 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Florence* is situated in a small but fertile valley,
on either side of which rise a great number of precip
itous hills ; behind these is a succession of still great
er elevations, with rocky summits reaching at last to
the Apennines on the north, and other ranges on the
south and west. A narrow stream, poetically called
the "yellow Arno" or u golden Arno," but in honest
phrase, the muddy Arno, flows nearly through the
center of the city. This is bordered by stone quays,
leaving a space of about three hundred feet in width,
sometimes full and sometimes only a bed of gravel,
along which winds the stream shrunken into an insig
nificant rivulet. The Arno is in fact a sort of mount
ain torrent; its source is nearly five thousand feet
above the level of the sea, yet its whole course is
but seventy -five miles. The steep acclivities around
Florence suddenly empty the rains into its channel,
and it often swells in the course of a few hours to in
undation ; it subsides as speedily, and in summer al
most disappears amid the furrows of its sandy bed.

If we were to judge Florence by a modern stand
ard, we might pronounce it a dull, dismal-looking

* Florence has a population of one hundred and ten thousand inhab
itants, but it is so compactly built as to occupy a very small territorial
space. It is surrounded by a wall, partly of brick and partly of stone,
and yet so feeble and dilapidated, as to be wholly useless, except for the
purposes of police. It has six gates, duly guarded by military sentries.
It is the capital of Tuscany, which is called a Grand Duchy, the Grand
Duke, its present ruler, Leopold II., being an Austrian prince. The
government is a rigid despotism, sustained by means of a few thousand
Austrian troops, and the moral influence of the authority of Austria
itself, ever ready to rush to the aid of the government.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 523

place, marred by dilapidation, degraded by tyranny,
and occupied by a degenerate people. But when we
enter its galleries of art,* when we survey its monu
ments of architecture, and when we view all these in
connection with its history, we speedily discover it
to be an inexhaustible mine, alike instructive to the
philosopher and the man of taste.

I dare not begin upon the curiosities with which
this city is filled : I must leave them to be described
by others. The hills around the city are equally
interesting, studded as they are with edifices, con
nected with the names of Michael Angelo, Galileo,
Dante, Lorenzo de' Medici, and others, all full of his
torical associations or recollections of science and art.
At the distance of about five miles is Fiesole, now an
insignificant village, situated on the top of a steep hill,
rising a thousand feet above the bed of the valley.
This you ascend by a winding road, built with im
mense labor, a portion of it cut in the solid rock.
This place was the cradle of Florence, its history
reaching back three thousand years, into the thick
mists of antiquity.

* The principal gallery, the Ufizzi, contains the statue of the Venus
de' Medici, the group of Niobe, and the most extensive collection of
paintings and statuary illustrative of the history and progress of art,
in the world. The collection in the Pitti Palace, the residence of the
Grand Duke, is less extensive, but it is beautifully arranged, and com
prises many gems of art, especially in painting and mosaic. Mr. Powers
and Mr. Hart, American sculptors, celebrated for their busts in marble,
are established in this city. Here we met Buchanan Kead, who had
just finished his charming poem, The New Pastoral ; at the same time
he was acquiring hardly less celebrity by his pencil.

524: LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

Here are Cyclopean walls, constructed by the early
inhabitants to protect themselves at a period when
all Italy was in the possession of bands of brigands
and robbers, and when every town and village was a
fortress. From this point you look down upon Flor
ence, which almost seems at your feet ; you have
also a commanding view of the whole adjacent coun
try. If you inquire the names of places that attract
your attention, you will be carried back to periods
anterior to the building of Rome. The guide will
point you to the track of Hannibal through the
marshes of the Arno, then a wilderness without in
habitants, amid which the Carthaginian general lost
a number of elephants, and whose tusks are even at
this day dug up from their deep beds in the soil.
Allow me to give you a somewhat prosy description
in rhyme of this wonderful and suggestive place —
the best in the world to study early Roman geogra
phy and history — which I wrote on the spot, and
which has at least the merit of being brief :

This is Fiesole — a giant mound,
With fellow-giants circling phalanx'd round ;
Hoary with untold centuries they rest,
Yet to the top with waving olives dress'd,
While far beyond in rugged peaks arise
The dark-blue Apennines against the skies.
In this deep vale, with sentried hills around,
Set foot to foot, and all with villas crown'd,
Fair Florence lies — its huge Duomo flinging
E'en to Fiesole its silvery ringing.

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICALj ETC. 525

Ah, what a varied page these scenes unfold —
How much is written, yet how much nntold !
Here on this mound, the huge Cyclopean wall —
Its builders lost in Time's unheeding thrall —
Speaks of whole nations, ages, kingdoms, races,
Of towers and cities, palaces and places —
Of wars and sieges, marches, battles, strife,
The hopes and fears — the agonies of life —
All pass'd away, their throbbing weal and woe,
E'er Rome was built, three thousand years ago !

On the twenty-second day of February we entered
Kome, and found the peach-trees in blossom. The
modern city is in no respect remarkable. Its walls
are of some strength, but readily yielded to the at
tack of the French army in 1849. Its present popu
lation is one hundred and seventy-five thousand.
All the streets are narrow, and even the far-famed
Corso is not over fifty feet wide. In general, the
buildings appear to be of modern date, with here and
there some grand monument of antiquity peering out
from the midst of more recent structures. On the
whole, the aspect of this " Queen of the World" is
eminently sad, degenerate, and disheartening.

The more imposing relics of antiquity, the Forum,
the Palace of the Caesars, the Coliseum, the Baths of
Caracalla, though within the walls, are still on the
southern side of the city, and beyond the present cen
ter of population. All these are gigantic structures,
but mostly of a barbarous character. They show the
amazing power and wealth of the emperors who con-

526 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

structed these works, but they also display the actual
poverty of art, for there is not one of them that can
furnish a useful suggestion to even a house-carpenter.
The vain and transitory nature of the ideas and insti
tutions which gave birth to these miracles of labor,
strikes the reflecting mind with a deep and painful
sense of humiliation. The Coliseum, the most sublime
monument of accumulated human toil, regarded as to
its gigantic proportions, was erected for amusements
now held to be alike cruel and revolting ; the baths
of Caracalla — whole acres covered with mounds of
brick — were constructed to minister to fashionable
luxuries, which at the present day would be regarded
as infamous. In modern times, the same accommoda
tions would be obtained with one-twentieth part of
the labor expended upon these establishments. The
vanity, the boasting, the ostentation of conquerors,
which gave birth to the triumphal arches, would at this
day be looked upon with universal contempt. The
temples were erected to gods, which have vanished
into thin air. The Aqueducts, whose ruins stretch
across the gloomy Campagna, looking like long lines
of marching mastodons, were erected in ignorance of
that familiar fact, visible to any one who looks into
a teapot, that water will rise to its level !

The great lesson to be learned at Rome is that of
humility. I know not which is most calculated to
sink the pride of man, pagan Rome, sublime in the
grandeur of its tyranny, its vices, and its falsehoods,

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 527

or Christian Kome, contemptible in its littleness, its
tricks, and its artifices, which would disgrace the
commonest juggler.

I speak not now of the treasures of art,* collected
to repletion in the public and private galleries of this
wonderful city. These are endless in extent and va
riety. Among them are the finest paintings of Ka-
phael, and the best sculptures of Michael Angelo, as
well as the Dying Gladiator and the Apollo Belvidere.
Here, also, is that rich, gorgeous palace, called St.
Peter's Church. But still, Rome, on the whole, seems
to me the most melancholy spot on earth. Here is a
city which once contained three or four millions of

* Rome is not only a depository of exhaustless stores of relics of art,
and curiosities illustrative of history, but it is the great studio of liv
ing artists from all parts of Europe. Both painting and sculpture are
pursued here with eminent success. The Angel of the Resurrection
in the studio of Tenerani, is the most beautiful and sublime piece of
sculpture I ever beheld. Gibson, an Englishman, takes the lead among
foreigners, his best things consisting of reliefs, which are beautiful in
deed. His Venus is English, but fine. He has tried coloring statuary,
after the manner of the ancients, but it is not approved. Our Ameri
can Crawford ranks very high for invention and poetic expression. He
lias shown a capacity beyond any other American sculptor, for groups
on a large scale. Bartholomew, of Connecticut, is a man of decided
genius, and is rapidly attaining fame. Ives, Hosier, Rogers — all our
countrymen — are acquiring celebrity.

Among the foreign painters, the most celebrated is Overbeck, a Ger
man. He chooses religious subjects, and is a little pre-Rapluielitish in
his style. Page, Terry, Chapman, are all highly appreciated, both at
home and abroad. I here met the landscape painter, George L. Brown,
whom I employed twenty years ago, for a twelvemonth, as a wood-
engraver. He has studied laboriously of late, and his pictures are
beautiful. When he was a boy, he painted a picture, the first he ever
finished. Isaac P. Davis, of Boston, a well-known amateur, called to
see it, and asked the price. Brown nu-ant to say tit'ty cents, but in his
confusion said fifty dollars. It was taken by Mr. Davis at tin* pric« :
so the wood-cutter became a landscape painter !

528 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

inhabitants, now shrunk and wasted to a population
of less than two hundred thousand, and these living
upon the mere ruins of the past. The Christian
Church is but little better than a collection of bats
and owls, nestling in the ruinous structures erected
for the gods and goddesses of heathen antiquity.

Nor is this the most appalling fact here presented
to the traveler. Around this place is a belt of un
dulating land called the Campagna, eight or ten
miles in width, fertile by nature, and once cov
ered with a busy population ; this has become deso
late, and is now tenanted only by sheep and cattle.
The air is poisoned, and man breathes it at his peril.
To sleep in it is death. And this change has come
over it while it claims to be the very seat and center
of Christianity, the residence of the Successor of the
Apostles, the Head of the Catholic Church, the Rep
resentative of Christ on earth, the Spiritual Father of
a hundred and fifty millions of souls ! Is not this
mysterious, fearful ?

We reached Naples about the first of April. Here
the character of the climate and of the people be
comes thoroughly Italian. The Bay of Naples can
not be too much praised. Not only do the promi
nent objects — the crescent-shaped city, rising terrace
above terrace on the north ; Vesuvius, with its double
cone in the east, and the islands of Capri and Ischia
at the south — form a beautiful boundary to the view,
out the water and the sky and the air have all a live-

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 529

liness, a cheerfulness, which calls upon the heart to
be gay. The Neapolitan is, in truth, constantly
preached to by nature, to sing and dance and be
happy. It is impossible for any one to resist this
influence of the climate — of the earth and the sea
and the air — in this region of enchantment. It ap
pears that the ancient Eomans felt and yielded to its
force. In the vicinity was Puzzuoli, a renowned wa
tering-place, the hills around being still studded with
the vestiges of villas once inhabited by the Eoman
patricians ; near by was Cumae, long a seat and center
of taste and luxury ; close at hand was Baiae, the
Baden Baden of fashion in the time of Cicero — its
ruins abundantly attesting the luxury as well as the
licentiousness of those days. In the mouth of the
bay was Capri, chosen by Tiberius as the scene of
his imperial orgies, in consideration of its delicious
climate and picturesque scenery. The whole region
is indeed covered over with monuments of Home in
the day of its glory, testifying to the full apprecia
tion of the beauties of the sky and the climate, on
the part of its patrician population.

As to the city of Naples itself I shall not speak ;
though its people, its institutions, its repositories of
art, its Museum of vestiges taken from the buried
cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum, would furnish
interesting subjects of description. I have only to
add that after a stay of a month, I left it with reluct
ance, and returned to Paris. When I arrived, the

VOL. II.— 28

530 LETTERS — BIOGRAPHICAL,

Great Exposition was on the eve of being opened.
I remained till July, and had several opportunities to
examine this marvelous array of the world's art and
industry. On the fourth of the same month I de
parted for the United States, and arriving in New
York, found anchorage for myself and family in that
city.

LETTER LXIIL

Leave-taking — Improvement everywhere — In Science— Geology, Chemistry,
Agriculture* Manufactures, Astronomy, Navigation, the Domestic Arts —
Anthracite Coal — Traveling — Painting — Daguerreotypes — The Electric
Telegraph — Moral Progress — In Foreign Countries : in the United States.

MY DEAR C******

I have now come to my farewell. Leave-takings
are in general somewhat melancholy, and it is best to
make them as brief as possible. Mine shall consist
of a single train of thought, and that suggestive of
cheerful rather than mournful feelings. Like a trav
eler approaching the end of his journey, I naturally
cast a look backward, and surveying the monuments
which rise up in the distance, seek to estimate the
nature and tendency of the march of events which I
have witnessed, and in which I have participated.

One general remark appears to me applicable to
the half century over which my observation has ex
tended, which is, that everywhere there has been im
provement. I krow of no department of human

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTIOAL, ETC. 531

knowledge, no sphere of human inquiry, no race of
men, no region of the earth, where there has been re-
trogradation. On the whole, the age has been alike
fruitful in discovery, and the practical, beneficial re
sults of discovery. Science has advanced with giant
strides, and it is the distinguishing characteristic of
modern science that it is not the mere toy of the phi
losopher, nor the hidden mystery of the laboratory,
but the hard-working servant of the manufactory, the
workshop, and the kitchen. Geology not only in
structs us in the sublime history of the formation of
the earth, but it teaches us to understand its hidden
depths, and to trace out and discover its mineral treas
ures. Chemistry, the science of atoms, teaching us
the component parts of matter, as well as the laws of
affinity and repulsion, has put us in possession of a
vast range of convenient knowledge now in daily and
familiar use in the domestic arts. We have even ex
press treatises upon the "Chemistry of Common Life."
Astronomy has not only introduced to us new planets
and the sublime phenomena of the depths hitherto
beyond our reach, but it has condescended to aid in
perfecting the art of navigation, and thus contributed
to make the sea the safe and familiar highway of the
nations.

We can best appreciate the progress of things around
us, by looking at particular facts. Take anthracite
coal, for instance, which, when I was a boy, was un
known, or only regarded as a black, shining, useless

532 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

stone; now six millions of tons are annually dug
up and distributed. Think of the labor that is per
formed by this mass of matter, that had slumbered
for ages — hidden, senseless, dead, in the bosom of the
earth ! It now not only cooks our food and warms
our houses so as in winter to give us the climate of
summer, but the sleeper, waked from its tomb, like a
giant impatient of the time he has lost, turns the whiz
zing wheel of the factory, sends the screaming locomo
tive on its way, drives the steamboat foaming through
the waves. This single mineral now performs, every
day, the labor of at least a hundred thousand men !

On every hand are the evidences of improvement.
What advances have been made in agriculture — in
the analysis of soils, the preparation of manures, the
improvement of implements, from the spade to the
steam-reaper; in the manufacture of textile fabrics
by the inventions of Jacquard and others in weaving,
and innumerable devices in spinning ; in the working
of iron — cutting, melting, molding, rolling, shaping
it like dough, whereby it is applied to a thousand
new uses ; in commerce and navigation, by improved
models of ships, improved chronometers, barometers,
and quadrants — in chain-pumps and wheel-rudders ;
in printing, by the use of the power-press, throwing off
a hundred thousand impressions instead of two thou
sand in a day ; in the taking of likenesses by the da
guerreotype, making the Sun himself the painter of
miniatures ; in microscopes, which have revealed new

HISTORICAL, ANECDOTICAL, ETC. 533

worlds in the infinity of littleness, as well as in tele
scopes which have unfolded immeasurable depths c*
space before hidden from the view How has travel
ing been changed, from jolting along at the rate of six
miles an hour over rough roads in a stage-coach, to
the putting one's self comfortably to bed in a steam
boat and going fifteen miles an hour; or sitting down
in a railroad car at New York to read a novel, and
before you have finished, to find yourself at Boston !
The whole standard of life and comfort has been
changed, especially in the cities. The miracles of
antiquity are between each thumb and finger now ; a
friction-match gives us fire and light, the turn of a
cock brings us water, bright as from Castalia. We
have summer in our houses, even through the rigors
of winter. We light our streets by gas, and turn
night into day. Steam brings to the temperate zone
the fresh fruits of the tropics ; ether mitigates the ag
onies of surgical operations ; ice converts even the
fires of Sirius into sources of luxury.

These are marvels, yet not the greatest of marvels.
Think — instead of dispatching a letter in a mail-bag,
with the hope of getting an answer in a month — of
sending your thoughts alive along a wire winged with
electricity, to New Orleans or Canada, to Charleston or
St. Louis, and getting a reply in the course of a few
hours ! This is the miracle of human inventions, the
crowning glory of art, at once the most ingenious, the
most gratifying, the most startling of discoveries. I

531 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL,

know of nothing in the whole range of human contri
vances which excites such exulting emotions in the
mind of man, as the electric telegraph.* It is giving
wings of light to the mind, and here on earth impart
ing to the soul, some of the anticipated powers which
imagination tells us the spirit may exercise in the

* The original profession of Samuel Finley Morse, the inventor of the
electric telegraph, was that of an historical painter. He went to Europe
for the purpose of perfecting himself in this, the second time, in 1824. In
the autumn of 1832 he was returning in a ship from Havre,when the sub
ject of electro-magnetism one day became the theme of conversation at
the lunch-table. The fact that an electric spark could be obtained from
a magnet, had led to the new science of magneto-electricity. Reflecting
upon this, the idea of making electricity the means of telegraphic com
munication struck him with great force. It appears that in this concep
tion he had been anticipated by scientific men, but nothing had been
effected toward realizing it. Mr. Morse, after earnest and absorbing
reflection upon this subject during his voyage, on his arrival set himself
to the task of making it practical, and the plan he finally discovered and
laid before the world was entirely original with him. All telegraphists
before used evanescent signs; his system included not only the use of a
new agent, but a self-recording apparatus, adding to the celerity of light
ning almost the gift of speech. This was a new and wonderful art — that
of a speaking and printing telegraph !

It would be interesting, if I had space, to trace this invention through
all its alternations in the mind, feelings, and experiments of its producer.
I can only say that after encountering and overcoming innumerable ob-
Btacles, the instrument was made to work on a small but decisive scale,
in 1835. In 1837 he established his apparatus at Washington, and, as
every thing seemed to promise success, he made an arrangement with a
member of Congress (F. 0. J. Smith) to take an interest in the patent,
and to proceed forthwith to Europe to secure patents there. This was
done, and Mr. Morse soon joined his associate in England. The expe
dition resulted only in long embarrassment and disaster to the inventor.
Having returned to the United States, and successfully Wriggling with
obstacles and adversities, he finally obtained the assistance of the gov
ernment, and aline of telegraph was built from Washington to Balti
more. After some mistakes and many failures, the work proved suc
cessful, effective experiments having been made in 1844. The first
sentence sent over the line is said to have been dictated by Miss Anna
Ellsworth, daughter of II. L. Ellsworth, then commissioner of patents —

HISTORICAL, ANKCDOTICAL, ETC. 535

world above ! Having achieved so much, who
shall dare to set limits to the power of human in
vention ?

And in the moral world, the last fifty years appear
to me to have shown an improvement, if not as
marked, yet as certain and positive, as in the material
world. Everywhere, as I believe, the standard of
humanity is more elevated than before. About a
century ago, an eminent New England divine, after
ward president of Yale College, sent a barrel of rum
to Africa by a Khode Island captain, and got in re
turn a negro boy, whom he held as a slave, and this
was not an offence. I know of a distinguished D. D.
who was a distiller of New England rum half a cen
tury ago, and with no loss of reputation. The rules
by which we try candidates for office are much more
rigid than formerly. Church discipline among all
sects is more severe, while sectarian charity is greatly
enlarged. Christian missions are among the estab
lished institutions of society; education is every
where improved and extended. If in some things,
with the increase of wealth and luxury, we have de
generated, on the whole there has been an immense

" What lititli God wrought?" It was indeed a natural and beautiful
idea, at the moment that man had opened a new and startling develop
ment of the works of the Almighty. The means of instantly transmit
ting intelligence through space, seems to illustrate not only the omnipo
tence, but the omniscience and omnipresence of God.

Thus the telegraph was established, and though Mr. Morse has en
countered opposition, rivalry, and almost fatal competition, he is gen
erally admitted throughout the world to be the true inventor of this
greatest marvel of art, the electric telegraph.

536 LETTERS BIOGRAPHICAL, ETC.

advance, as well in technical morals as in those large
humanities which aim at the good of all mankind.

If we cast our eyes over foreign lands, we shall see
a similar if not an equal progress in all that belongs
to the comforts and the charities of life. Despotism
still reigns over a large part of the world, but its
spirit is mitigated, its heart softened. Dungeons and
chains are not now the great instruments of govern
ment. There is everywhere — more especially in all
parts of Christendom — a feeling of responsibility on
the part of even kings and princes, to the universal
principles of justice and humanity. There is a moral
sense, a moral law among mankind, which tyrants
dare not set at defiance !

Such has been the tendency of things within the
half century which has passed under my observation.
If, then, I am an optimist, it is as much from reason
and reflection as from sentiment. In looking at the
political condition of our country, there are no doubt
threatening clouds in the sky, and mutterings of
ominous thunders in the distance. I have, however,
known such things before ; I have seen the country
shaken to its center by the fierce collisions of parties,
and the open assaults of the spirit of disunion. But
these dangers passed away. Within my memory, the
States of the Union have been doubled in number, and
the territorj^ of the Union has been trebled in extent !
This I have seen ; and as such has been the past, so
may be, and so I trust will be, the future. Farewell !

APPENDIX.

NOTE I.

List of Worlcs of which S. G. Goodrich is the Editor or Author.

My experience, as an author, has been not a little singular, in one re
spect. While on the other side of the Atlantic my name has been largely
used, as u passport to the public, for books I never wrote — attempts have
been made in this country to deprive me of the authorship of at least a
hundred volumes which I did write. It requires some patience to reflect
upon this with equanimity ; to see myself, falsely, saddled with the pa
ternity of things which are either stupid, or vulgar, or immoral — or per
haps all together; and then to be deprived, also by falsehood, of the
means of effectually throwing them off by appealing to genuine works —
which have obtained general favor— through a suspicion cast into the
public mind, that I am a mere pretender, and that the real authorship
of these works belongs to another person.

This, however, has been, and perhaps is my position, at least with
Borne portion of the public. I have thought it worth while, therefore,
to print a catalogue of my genuine works, and also a list of the false
ones, issued under my name, with such notes as seem necessary to set
the whole matter clearly before the public.

The following list comprises all my works to the best of my recol
lection.

MISCELLANEOUS

Date of No.
publicntion. roll.

The Token — A New Year's and Christmas Present 1828. . .14

[The first volume was issued in 1S28, and it was continued,
yearly, till 1842—15 years. ISrao. and 12mo. Edited
by me, except that In 1829 it was edited by N. P. Wil
lis. Among the contributors to this work were, E. Ev
erett, Bishop Doane, A. H. Everett, J. Q. Adams, H.
W. Longfellow, I. McLellan, Jr., N. Hawthorne, Misa
Sedgwick, Mrs. Sigourney, Willis Qaylord Clark, N. P.
Willis, J. Nealo, Grenville Mellen, Geo. Lunt, John
Pierpont, Caleb CusMng, H. Pickering, Miss Leslie, T.
H. Gallaudet, Mrs. Child, F. W. P. Greenwood, Rev. T.
Flint, H. F. Gould, W. L Stone, H. T. Tuckerman, Ma
dame Calderon de la Barea, O. W. Holmes, Mrs. 8eba
Smith, Mrs. Osgood, Mrs. Lee, J. Ininan, Horace Gree-
ley, I. C. Pray, Orville Dewey. O. W. B. Peabodj,
James Hall, Mrs. Hale, Mrs. Hoffliind, J. T. Fields,
Miss M. A. Browne, R. C. Waterston, Nath. Greene,
H. H. Weld, G. C. Verplanck, T. 8. Fay, J. O. Book-
well, Charles Sprague, etc.]

538 APPENDIX NOTES.

Date of No.
publication. rol»

A History of All Nations, from the Earliest Period to
the Present Time — In which the History of every
Nation, Ancient and Modern, is separately given.

Large 8vo., 1200 pp 1849 1

[In the compilation of this work I had the assistance of
Kev. Royal Bobbins, of Berlin, Conn., Rev.W. S. Jenks,
and Mr. 8. Kettell, of Boston, and F. B. Goodrich, of
New York.]

A Pictorial Geography of the World. Large 8vo.,

1000 pp 1840 ... .1

[The first edition of this work was published in 1831, but
being found imperfect, was revised and remodeled at
this date. In the original work I had the assistance of
J. 0. Sargent and S. P. Holbrook, Esqs., and Mr. S. Ket
tell : the new edition was mainly prepared by T. S.
Bradford, Esq.]

Sow Well and Reap Well, or Fireside Education. 12mo. 1838 1

A Pictorial History of America. 8vo 1845 .... 1

Winter Wreath of Summer Flowers. 8vo. Colored

Engravings 1853 .... 1

The Outcast, and other Poems. 12mo 1841 1

Sketches from a Student's Window. 12mo 1836 1

Poems. 12mo 1851 1

Ireland and the Irish. 12mo 1842 1

Five Letters to my Neighbor Smith 1839 1

Les Etals Unis d'Amerique. Svo 1852. . . .1

[This was published in Paris.]

The Gem Book of British Poetry. Sq. Svo 1 854 1

Recollections of a Lifetime : or, Men and Things I have
Seen. In a series of Familiar Letters — Historical,
Biographical, Anecdotical, and Descriptive : address
ed to a Friend. 12mo. (In press.) 1857 2

The Picture Play-Book 1855 1

SCHOOL BOOKS.

Ancient History, from the Creation to the Fall of

Rome. 12mo 1846 1

Modern History, from the Fall of Rome to the present

time. 12mo 1847.... 1

History of North America — Or, The United States and

adjacent Countries. 18mo 1846. ...1

History of South America and the West Indies. 18mo. 1846 1

APPENDIX — NOTES. 539

Date of No.
publication. TO!I.

History of Europe. 18mo 1848 1

History of Asia. ISmo 1848 1

History of Africa. ISmo 1850 1

[In the compilation of the preceding six volumes, exclu
ding North America, I had large assistance from Mr. S.
Kettell.]

a. Comprehensive Geography a,nd History, Ancient and

Modern. 4to 1849 1

rhe National Geography. 4to 1849 1

A Primer of History, for Beginners at Home and

School. 24rno 1850 1

A Primer of Geography, for Home and School — With

Maps 1850 1

A Pictorial History of the United States. 12 mo 1846. .

A Pictorial History of England. 12mo 1846. .

A Pictorial History of France. 12mo 1846. .

A Pictorial History of Greece. 12mo 1846 ..

A Pictorial History of Rome. 12mo 1848..

[In the preparation of the preceding five volumes, I had as
sistance from Dr. Alcott, Mr. J. Lowell, <fcc. I was large
ly assisted in the preparation of Rome by Mr. S. Kettell.]

A Pictorial Natural History. 12mo 1842 1

The Young American : Or, A Book of Government and

Law. 12mo 1842 1

The Malte-Brun School Geography. 16mo 1830 1

Maps for the same. 4to 1830 1

The Child's Own Book of Geography ; or the Western

Hemisphere — With Maps. Sq. 12mo. (Out of print.) 1834 1

The Child's Own Book of Geography ; or the Eastern

Hemisphere — With Maps. Square 12mo. (Out of

print.) 1834 1

Goodrich's First Reader. 18mo 1846 1

Goodrich's Second Reader. 18mo 1846 1

Goodrich's Third Reader. 18mo 1846 1

Goodrich's Fourth Reader. 12mo 1846 1

Goodrich'd Fifth Reader. 12mo 1846 1

TALES UNDER THE NAME OF PETER PARLEY.

Fhe Tales of Peter Parley about America. Square 16mo. 1827 .... 1

Do. do. Europe. do 1828 1

Peter Parley's Winter-Evening Tales. do 1 829 1

5 40 APPENDIX NOTES ,

Date of No.
publiaation. vols.

Peter Parley's Juvenile Tales. Square 16mo 1830 1

The Tales of Peter Parley about Africa. Square 16mo. 1830 1

Do. do. Asia. do 1830 1

Peter Parley's Tales about the Sun, Moon, and Stars.

Square 16mo 1830 1

Peter Parley's Tales of the Sea. Square 1 6mo 1831 1

Peter Parley's Tales about the Islands in the Pacific

Ocean. Square 16mo 1831. ...1

Peter Parley's Method of Telling about Geography.

Square 16mo 1830 1

[This work was remodeled and reproduced in 1841, under
the name of "Parley's Geography for Beginners, at
Home and School." Two millions of copies of it ware
sold : the publisher paid me throe hundred dollars for
the copyright, and made his fortune by it]

Peter Parley's Tales about the World. Square 16rao.

(Out of print.) 1831 1

Peter Parley's Tales about New York. Square 16mo.

(Out of print.) 1832 1

Peter Parley's Tales about Great Britain — Including

England, Scotland, and Ireland. Square 16mo.

(Out of print.) 1834 1

Parley's Picture Book. Square 16mo 1834 1

Parley's Short Stories for Long Nights. Square 16mo. 1834. . . .1

Peter Parley's Book of Anecdotes. do 1836 1

Parley's Tales about Animals. 1 2mo 1831 1

Persevere and Prosper : Or, The Siberian Sable-Hunter.

18mo 1843 1

Make the Best of It : Or, Cheerful Cherry, and other

Tales. 18mo 1843 1

Wit Bought: Or, The Adventures of Eobert Merry.

18mo 1844 1

What to do, and How to do it : Or, Morals and Man
ners. 18mo 1844 1

A Home in the Sea: Or, The Adventures of Philip

Brusque. 18mo 1845 1

Eight is Might, and other Sketches. 18mo 1845 1

A Tale of the Revolution, and other Sketches. 18mo. . 1845 1

Dick Boldhero, or the Wonders of South America.

18mo 1846 1

Truth-Finder: Or, Inquisitive Jack. 18mo 1846 1

APPENDIX NOTES. 541

Data of No.
publication, foil.

Take Care of No. 1 : Or, The Adventures of Jacob Karl.

18mo 1850 1

Tales of Sea and Land 1 846 1

Every-Day Book. Sq. 16mo. (Out of print.) 1835 1

Parley's Present for All Seasons. 12mo 1853. . . .1

Parley's "Wanderers by Sea and Land. 12mo 1854. . . .1

Parley's Fagots for the Fireside. 12mo 1854 1

Parley's Balloon Travels of Robert Merry and his Young

Friends in various parts of Europe. 12mo 1856. . . .1

Parley's Adventures of Gilbert Goahead. 1 2mo 1856 1

Parley's Adventures of Billy Bump, all the way from

Sundown to California. (In press.) 1857 ... .1

Parley's Balloon Travels of Robert Merry and his Young

Friends in the Holy Land and other parts of Asia.

12mo. (In press.) 1857 1

PARLEY'S HISTORICAL COMPENDS.

Peter Parley's Universal History on the basis of Geog
raphy. Large sq. 16m o 1837 2

Peter Parley's Common School History. 12mo 1887 1

The First Book of History for Children and Youth.

Large sq. 12mo 1831.... 1

The Second Book of History — Designed as a Sequel to

the First Book of History. Large sq. 12mo 1832 I

The Third Book of History — Designed as a Sequel to

the First and Second Books of History. Sq. 12mo. . 1833 1

[The two preceding volumes were compiled under my di
rection, and were then remodeled by me, but were not
published, nor were they intended to appear, as by Pe
ter Parley ; they have, however, passed under that name
for several years.]

Parley's Tales about Ancient Rome, with some account

of Modern Italy. Sq. 16uio 1832 1

Parley's Tales about Ancient and Modern Greece. Sq.

16mo 1833 1

Histoire des Etats-Unis d'Ame"rique. Published in Paris

and the United States. 12mo 1858.... 1

Petite Histoire Universelle. Published in Paris and the

United States. 12mo 1858 1

[In the preparation of some of these, I had the aid of N.
Hawthorne, and J. O. Sargent, Esqs., Ac.]

54:2 APPENDIX NOTES.

PARLEY'S MISCELLANIES.
PARLEY'S CABINET LIBRARY: 20 vols., small 12mo., as follows:

BIOGRAPHICAL DEPARTMENT.

Pate of No.
publication, rols.

1. Lives of Famous Men of Modern Times 1844-5 .... 1

2. Lives of Famous Men of Ancient Times ' 1

3. Curiosities of Human Mature " 1

4. Lives of Benefactors " 1

5. Lives of Famous American Indians " 1

6. Lives of Celebrated Women " 1

HISTORICAL DEPARTMENT.

f. Lights and Shadows of American History * 1

o. Lights and Shadows of European History " 1

•g. Lights and Shadows of Asiatic History " 1

10. Lights and Shadows of African History " 1

11. History of the American Indians " 1

12. Manners, Customs, and Antiquities of the Ameri

can Indians " 1

MISCELLANEOUS.

13. A Glance at the Sciences "

14. Wonders of Geology "

15. Anecdotes ot the Animal Kingdom "

16. A Glance at Philosophy "

17. Book of Literature, with Specimens "

18. Enterprise, Industry, and Art of Man "

19. Manners and Customs of Nations " 1

20. The World and its Inhabitants " 1

Parley's Panorama: Or, the Curiosities of Nature and
Art, History and Biography. Large 8vo., double
columns 1849. 1

Parley's Geography for Beginners. Sq. 16mo 1844 1

[This is a reproduction and remodeling of "Parley's
Method of Telling about Geography, for Children."]

Parley's Farewell. Large sq. 16mo. (Out of print.). . 1836. . . .1

Parley's Arithmetic. Sq. 16mo 1833 1

Parley's Spelling- Book. (Out of print.) 1833 1

Parley's Book of the United States. Sq. 16mo 1833 1

APPENDIX NOTES. 543

Date of No.
publication, roll.

Gtfographie E16mentaire. 8vo 1854. ...1

[Published at Paris.]

Elementary Geography. 8vo. With Maps 1854 1

[Published in London.]

Parley's Present. Small 24mo. (Out of print.) 1836 1

Pai ley's Dictionaries — Of Botany, of Astronomy, of the

Bible, of Bible Geography, of History, of Commerce.

Six vols., large sq. lOino 1S34. . . .6

Three Months at Sea (an English book, with additions

and modifications). Sq. 16mo 1832 1

The Captive of Nootka Sound. Sq. 16mo 1832 1

The Story of Capt. Riley. do 1832 1

The Story of La Peyrouse. do 1832 1

The Story of Alexander Selkirk, do 1833 1

Bible Stories (a London book, with additions). Sq. 16mo 1833.... 1

Parley's Magazine. Began 1832. Large sq. 12mo 1833. . . .1

[This work was planned and established by me; but after
about a year I was obliged to relinquish it, from ill
health and an affection of iny eyes. It was conducted,
without any interest or participation on my part, for
about twelve year-, when ii ceased.]

Merry's Museum and Parley's Magazine. Large sq.

12mo. Commenced 1841 1841... 28

[This work was begun and established by me, under the
title of Merry's Museum, but after the discontinuance
of Parley's Magazine, the latter title w;is added. The
work continued under my exclusive editorship until I
left for Europe in 1850; from that time, while I I. ad a
general charge of the work. Rev. S. T. Allen was the
home editor. At the close of the fourteenth year (the
twenty-eighth semi-annual volume, 1854), my connec
tion with the work entirely ceased.]

Remarks.

I thus stand before the public as the author and editor of about
one hundred and seventy volumes — one hundred and sixteen bear
ing the name of Peter Parley. Of all these, about seven millions of
volumes have been sold : about three hundred thousand volumes
are now sold annually.

A recent writer in the Boston Courier, has affirmed that the late
Mr. S. Kettell was the " Veritable Peter Parley" — thereby asserting,
in effect, and conveying the impression, that he being the author of

544 APPENDIX NOTES.

the Parley Books, I, who have claimed them, am an impostor. He
has, moreover, claimed for him, in precise terms, the actual author
ship of various works which have appeared under my own proper
name. For reasons which will appear hereafter, I deem it neces
sary to expose this impudent attempt at imposture — absurd and
preposterous as it appears, upon its very face.

First, as to the Parley Books — it will probably be sufficient for
me to make the following statement. In respect to the thirty-six
volumes of Parley's Tales, in the preceding list, the earlier numbers
of which began and gave currency to the entire Parley series, no
person except myself ever wrote a single sentence.

As to Parley's Historical Compends — some nine or ten volumes —
I had the assistance of N. Hawthorne, and J. 0. Sargent, Esqs., and
others ; but Mr. Ketlell never wrote a line of any one of them !

As to Parley's Miscellanies — about fifty volumes — I had some
assistance from several persons in about a dozen of them. Mr.
Kettell wrote a few sketches for five or six volumes of the Cabinet
Library, which I adapted to my purpose, and inserted : this is the
whole extent of his participation in the entire Parley series — one hun
dred and sixteen volumes !

Jgfp He never wrote, planned, conceived, or pretended to be the au
thor, of a single volume, bearing Parley's name. The pretense thus
set up for him, since his death, is as preposterous as it is impudent
and false. It would be, indeed, about as reasonable to claim for him
the authorship of Don Quixote, or Gil Bias, or Pilgrim's Progress,
as thus to give him the title of the " Veritable Peter Parley."

The writer above noticed also claims for Mr. Kettell the chief au
thorship of Merry's Museum, extending to about thirty volumes —
large octavo. This claim is disposed of by the following letter from
Rev. S. T. ALLEN — better qualified than any other person to be a
witness in the case.

NEW YORK, Jan. 28, 1856.
S. G. GOODRICH, ESQ :

Dear Sir — I have read the several articles in the Boston Courier, sign
ed " Veritas," claiming for the late Mr. Kettell the authorship of Peter
Parley's Tales, Merry's Museum, &c. As you request from me a state
ment, as to iny knowledge on the subject, I cheerfully give it, which
you can publish if you please.

I purchased, with an associate, the entire Merry's Museum in 1848 or
1849, from the beginning in 1841, and have been its publisher until Oc
tober last ; that is, over six years. I have nearly, from that time to the
present, been its editor,wholly or in part. During this period, Mr. Kettell

APPENDIX NOTES. 54-5

has never written any thing for the work. It is within my knowledge
that he wrote gome articles in the earlier volumes, probably in all not ex
ceeding one hundred and eighty to two hundred pages. Ilis principal
articles were the "Travels of Thomas Trotter" and " Michael Kastoff;"
these possessed no particular merit, and did not aid or advance the rep
utation of the work.

The articles by you, extending through fifteen volumes, nearly all of
which have since been separately published as Peter Parley's Tales, gave
life, circulation, and character to the work. I have had large opportu
nity to judge of this matter, as I have been, for more than six years, in
constant communication with the subscribers (ten or twelve thousand
in number), and I say, unhesitatingly, that your articles in the Museum
have fully sustained your reputation as the ablest, best known, and most
popular writer for youth in this country.

1 may say, furthermore, that I have lately been in Europe, and it is
•within rny knowledge that Parley's works have been published there,
in various languages, and are highly esteemed.

I further state that I have read your reply to the Boston Courier and
" Veritas" of January 13th, and so far as my knowledge extends, and
especially in respect to Merry's Museum, it is strictly correct.

I need hardly say, in conclusion, therefore, that I consider these claims
of the Boston Courier and " Veritas," in favor of Mr. Kettell, as wholly
without foundation. All that can properly be said is, that out of Jive or
six thousand pages of Merry's Museum, he contributed about two hun
dred pages, marked with no particular excellence. The only qualifica
tion that need be made is, that I have understood that Mr. Kettell hk.d
some general superintendence of the work for about six months, whne
you were absent in Europe ; that is, from September, 1847, to March,
1848. Even during this period, Mr. Kettell's labors seem to have been
confined to writing a few small articles, and reading the proofs.

Yours respectfully, STEPHEN T. ALLEN.

$3JT Here, then, are eight and twenty volumes of Merry's Museum,
in addition to eighty-eight volumes of Parley's works, rescued from
the claims of this wholesale literary burglar.

Another claim in behalf of Mr. Kettell is, that he was the author
of various valuable and important school-books, such as the Picto
rial History of the United States, a Pictorial History of Greece, Ac.,
<fec ., <fee. The subjoined letter from Mr. George Savage, of the late
firm of Huntington <fe Savage, and now associated with Mr. J. H.
Colton A Co., Map and Geography Publishers in New York, will
settle this claim, also.

546 APPENDIX NOTES.

NEWYORK, Jan. 81, 1856.
MR, GOODRICH :

Dear Sir: I have looked over the several attacks made upon you in
the Boston Courier by " Veritas," claiming that Mr. Kettell was the au
thor of several books which bear your name. I am acquainted with the
history of several of these works, and, so far as my knowledge extends,
the statements of " Veritas" are entirely destitute of foundation. I can
speak positively as to four of the books — the Geographies — " Parley's,"
the " Primer," the " National," and the " Comprehensive," for I am, and
have been for some years, their proprietor and publisher. I have also
been interested in them from the beginning, and it is within my knowl
edge that you wrote them wholly and entirely. The statements of " Ver
itas" as to Mr. Kettell's authorship of the Pictorial History of Greece and
the United States, are equally untrue.

"Veritas" quotes a contract between you and Mr. Kettell of May 26,
1846, to show that^Hr. Kettell had written some of the "Parley's Com-
pends of History." If he will look at the books referred to in this
contract, he will see that your name is given as the author, and not
Parley's.

I speak of these works, because I have been engaged in publishing
them, or most of them. It is evident that the articles in the Courier
are written, throughout, with great rashness ; and though I do not im
pugn the motives of the writer, I feel free to say that so far as they
depend upon him, they seem to me entirely unworthy of confidence.

I have seen your replies, and having had a large knowledge of your
operations, I think your statements have been exact, reasonable, and
just, and have no doubt the public will think so.

Yours truly, GEORGE SAVAGE.

Another claim, in behalf of Mr. Kettell, made by this adven
turous writer, is, that the History of All Nations — a work of 1200
pages, royal 8vo — which appears under my name — was published,
with the exception of a few dry pages, " as it came from Mr. Ket-
telVs graceful and flowing pen !" In reply, I offer the following let
ter, to which I invite the special attention of the reader, inasmuch
as it not only refutes this audacious pretense, but it explains the
nature of my connection with Mr. Kettell, the reason why I em
ployed him, and the nature and extent of the services he rendered
me.

NEW YORK, Feb. 3, 1856.
To the Editor of tTie Boston Courier :

SIB — I have read the controversy which has been progressing for
some weeks, in your journal, as to the alleged claims of Mr. Kettell tc
the authorship of several works which have appeared under my father's

APPENDIX NOTES. 547

These claims, urged after Mr. Kettell's death, and by a person totally
irresponsible, seem hardly to merit serious consideration, but as they
have been pressed in a spirit of evident hostility and malice, it may be
•well for me to state what I know upon the subject.

For the last ten years I have been familiar with my father's literary
labors. I have seen the greater part of the manuscripts sent to the
printing-office, and have read the greater part of the proofs returned,
And can bear witness to the accuracy of the statements made in this
connection, in my father's letter, published in the New York Times of
the 31st December. Having suffered severely from weak eyes for the
past twenty-five years, he has been obliged to use the services of others
in consulting authorities, and sometimes in blocking out work to be after
ward systematized and reduced to order by him. In this, Mr. Kettell
was his principal assistant. He wrote always, as I understood it, as an
assistant, and in no sense as an author. His manuscripts were never fin
ished so as to be fit for the press. Their publication, as they were, would
have lee n fatal to the reputation of any man who should have taken, the
responsibility of them. It was my father's task, after having planned
these works, to read and remodel the rough drafts of Mr. Kettell, to
suit them to his own views, and to prepare them for the public eye.
This was, in some cases, a more serious and fatiguing labor than it
would have been to write the work from the beginning. I may add
that at one period Mr. Kettell's manuscripts were referred to me for ex
amination, and that I was empowered to accept or reject them. Some
what later I had, for a time, occasion to remodel, adapt, and partly to re
write such portions as were accepted.

I have, naturally, no wish to detract from the merits of Mr. Kettell.
But in regard to the History of All Nations, a work attributed by " Ver-
itas" to the " graceful and flowing pen of Mr. Kettell," I must state that
five persons (Mr. Kettell, Rev. Mr. Robbins, of Berlin, Conn., Rev. Mr.
Jciiks, of Boston, myself, and my father) were engaged upon it; the
heaviest share — the plan, the fitting, the refining, the systematizing,
and the general views — falling upon the latter. Perhaps " Veritas" will
pardon me if I claim for myself the entire authorship of seventy-five
pages, so confidently attributed by him to the "graceful and flowing
pen of Mr. Kettell."

Take notice, Mr. Editor, that I append my real name to this communica
tion. In, controversies of this kind, where honor, truth, and the mainte
nance of a good name are invoiced, anonymous correspondence in lull
ly the community to aryue in Us author— meanness, treachery, and cow
ardice. I think Mr. Kettell, were he living, would be the first to disavow
this eager service in his behalf, by his irresponsible advocate.

1 am yours respectfully, F. B. GOODRICH.

I believe I may now leave this matter to the judgment of the
public, with a few brief observations.

548 APPENDIX NOTES.

The enormous claims in behalf of Mr. Kettell, set up by the Bos
ton Courier and its anonymous correspondent " Veritas," have been
disposed of as follows :

1. Mr. Kettell never wrote a line of the thirty-six volumes of Par
leys' Tales ; never a line of the ten volumes of Parley's Historical
Compends, expressly and repeatedly claimed for him ; and of the fifty
volumes of Parley's Miscellanies, he only wrote a few sketches in
half a dozen of them. To pretend, therefore, that he is the "Veri
table Peter Parley," is as gross an imposture, as to call him the
" Veritable Author" of Pickwick, or Guy Mannering, or the Spec
tator.

2. The claim for Mr. Kettell, of the authorship of Merry's Museum,
— thirty volumes — is reduced to the writing of about two hundred
pages of indifferent matter, as a correspondent.

3. His claim to the authorship of the History of Greece, History
of the United States, Parley's Geography, the Primer of Geography,
National Geography, Comprehensive Geography and History — posi
tively asserted by " Veritas" — is shown to be false, in the beginning,
the middle, and the end.

4. The audacious claim of the entire authorship of the History of
All Nations, comes to this, that Mr. Kettell was one of four persona
who assisted me in the compilation of that work.

6. It appears, inasmuch as my eyes were weak for a series of twen
ty-five years, rendering it sometimes impossible for me to consult
books, that I employed Mr. Kettell to block out several works,
according to plans — minutely and carefully prescribed by me — and
that the materials thus furnished, were reduced to method, style,
and manner by me, so as to suit my own taste ; and that the works
were published, as thus remodeled, and not as they were written by
him. It appears, furthermore, that all this was done, with Mr. Ket-
tell's full consent, upon written and explicit agreements, and that
he never did plan, devise, contrive, or finally prepare any book pub
lished under my name, nor was he, nor did he ever claim to be, the
author of any book thus published.

6. It is material to state, distinctly, that while " Veritas" claims
for Mr. Kettell the entire authorship of over one hundred and twen
ty volumes of my works, he (Mr. Kettell) never assisted me, in any
way or in any degree, in more than twenty volumes, and these
only in the manner above indicated — that is, in blocking out works,
mostly historical, under my direction, and to be finished by me.

7. I do not mean by this to depreciate Mr. Kettell's abilities ; but
inasmuch as these audacious claims, in his behalf, have been perti-

APPENDIX NOTES. 549

naciously and impudently urged, it is proper for me, in this formal
manner, to reduce them to their true dimensions.

8. While I thus acknowledge the assistance rendered me by Mr.
Kettell in my historical compilations, it is proper to state that I had
the aid of other persons — some of them of higher name and fame
than he. Among my assistants were N. Hawthorne, E. Sargent,
J. 0. Sargent, S. P. Holbrook, Esqs., Rev. Royal Robbins, Rev. E. G.
Smith, Rev. W. S. Jenks, and others. The claims of " Veritas," if
admitted, would not only rob me of the authorship of a hundred
volumes, which I wrote, but would transfer to Mr. Kettell about
twenty volumes, to which several other authors contributed, with
greater ability than he.

9. I think it may be safely assumed, that in the history of litera
ture, there is not a more impudent attempt at imposture than this,
which originated in the Boston Courier. It is easy to comprehend
why the author has not dared to give his name to the public, but
has continued to make his attacks behind the mask of an anonymous
title. That I deem myself called upon thus to notice him, arises from
the fact that he derived a certain color of authority from the Editor of
the Courier, and from publishing papers and documents belonging to
Mr. Kettell's heirs — though these contributed, in no degree, either
to refute the statements here made, or to substantiate any portion
of the claims here referred to.

10. Literary history is full of instances in which littleness, al
lied to malignity, has signalized itself by seeking to deprive au
thors of their just claims — and while thus doing wrong to their
literary labors, attempting also to degrade them in the eyes of the
world, as guilty of appropriating to themselves honors which are not
legitimately theirs. It is also a vice of base minds to believe imputa
tions of this sort, without evidence, or even against evidence, when
once they ha-ve been suggested. I do not think it best, therefore, to
leave my name to be thus dealt with by future pretenders, who may
desire to emulate this Boston adventurer.

SPURIOUS PARLEY BOOKS.

AMERICAN COUNTERFEITS AND IMPOSITIONS.

In the United States, the name of Parley has been applied to
several works of which I am not the author, though for the most
part, from mistake and not from fraudulent designs. The following
are among the number :

550 APPENDIX NOTES.

Date of No.
publication, roll.

Parley's Washington. 18mo 1832 1

Parley's Columbus. do 1832....1

Parley's Franklin. do 1832. .

[The name of Parley is not in the title-page of any of
these works, but is put upon the back, and they nre
sold as Parley books, but without authority, though, at
the outset, as I believe, with no improper design.]

Parley's Miscellanies. ISmo . ... 1

Parley's Consul's Daughter, and other Tales. 18mo. . . . . . .1

Parley's Tales of Humor. 18mo ....1

Parley's Tales of Terror. do . ... 1

Parley's Tales for the Times. 18mo 1

Parley's Tales of Adventure. do . . . .1

[The publication of this series, under the name of Parley,
is, I believe, abandoned, as I remonstrated with the pub
lishers against it, as a fraud upon the public.]

Parley's Picture Books — 12 kinds ...12

[These I have not seen ; they are, however, impositions.]

The Rose, by Peter Parley 1

The Bud, by Peter Parley 1

The Mines of different Countries. By Peter Parley. . . . . . .1

The Garden, by Peter Parley 1

The Gift, by Peter Parley 1

The Flower-Basket, by Peter Parley 1

Fairy Tales, by Peter Parley 1

[The preceding seven volumes I have not seen, but I find
them in some of the American catalogues. They are
all spurious.]

Parley's Book of Books. Sq. 1 6mo .... 1

[This book, I believe, consists of extracts from Parley's
Magazine. Its publication in this form, so far as it may
convey the idea that it is written by me, is deceptive.]

Parley's Pictorial — A book for Home Education and

Family Entertainment. 8vo . ... 1

Parley's Household Library. 8vo . . . .1

[These two works are from old altered plates of Parley's
Magazine, and are designed to deceive the public, by
making it believe that they are original works, and by
the author of Parley's Tales. They are a gross and
shameful imposition.]

APPENDIX NOTES. 551

ENGLISH COUOTERFEITS AND IMPOSITIONS.

[Tho London publishers and authors have made a larse
business of preparing and publi hing Parley books.
Some of these are refaublications, without change, from
the genuine American editions— to which I make no
objection ; some are tire genuine works, more or less al
tered ; and many others are counterfeits, every means
being used to pass them off upon the public as by the
original author of Parley's Tales. Among the most
notorious of these are the following :

Date of No.
publication. Tola.

Peter Parley's Annual — A Christmas and New Year's

Present. Published by Darton & Co 1841... 14

[This is a large 16mo., with colored engravings, and has
been continued from 1841 to 1855 — 14 volumes.]

Peter Parley's Royal Victoria Game of the Kings and

Queens of England. 18mo. Darton <5c Go 1834. .

Parley's Book of Gymnastics. Sq. 16mo. Darton & Co. 1840..

Parley's Parting Gift. do. do 1846..

Parley's Book of Industry. do. do 1855..

Parley's Book of Poetry. do. do 1843. .

Parley's Ireland. do. do 1843..,

Parley's Wonders of Earth, Sea, and Sky.

Square 16mo do 1853.... 1

Parley's Odds and Ends. Square 16mo. do. .... 1840. 1

Parley's Peeps at Paris. do. do 1848 1

Parley's Prize Book. do. do 1848 1

Parley's School Atlas, do. do 1842 1

Parley's Canada. do. do 1839 1

Parley's China and the Chinese, do. do. 1844 1

Parley's Child's Own Atlas. Square. do 1853 1

Parley's Life and Journey of St. Paul. Square 16mo.

Sitnpkins 1845. . . .1

Peter Parley's Lives of the Twelve Apostles. Sq. 16mo.

1844 1

Peter Parley's Visit to London during the Coronation.

Sq. 16mo. Bogue 1838 1

Peter Parley's Tales of England, Scotland, and Ireland.

Sq. 16mo. Tegg 1842 1

Peter Parley's Mythology of Greece and Rome. Sq.

16mo. Tegg 1841 1

Peter Parley's Tales of Greece, Ancient and Modern.

Square 16mo. Tegg 1842 1

552 APPENDIX NOTES.

Date of No
publication, voli

Peter Parley's Tales of Ancient Rome and Modern Ita-

v • •

. . A

Peter Parley's Tales about Christmas. Sq. 16mo. Tegg.

1839..

..1

Peter Parley's Shipwrecks. do. do.

1846..

. .1

Parley's Plants. do. do.

1839..

..1

Parley's Modern Geography. do. do.

1837..

..1

Parley's Bible Geography. Sq. I6mo. /. S. Hodson. .

1839..

..1

Parley's Child's First Step. Sq. 16mo. Clements

1839..

..1

[There are still other counterfeits of Parley's works, issued
by various parties in London. The utter disregard of
truth, honor, and decency, on the part of respectable
British authors and publishers, in this wholesale system
of imposition and injustice, is all the more remarkable,
when we consider that the British public, and especially
the British authors and booksellers, are denouncing us
in America as pirates, for refusing international copy
right

The conduct of all these parties places them, morally,
on a footing with other counterfeiters and forgers : pub
lic opinion, in the United States, would consign persons
conducting in this manner, to the same degree of repro
bation. Can it be that, in England, a man who utters a
counterfeit five-pound note is sent to Newgate, while
another may issue thousands of counterfeit volumes,
and not destroy his reputation ?]

NOTE II.

Messrs. Low and Co?s Catalogue.

Since the preceding pages were in type, I have been favored by
Messrs. Samson Low, Son & Co., of London, with the proof-sheets of
their new "AMERICAN CATALOGUE OF BOOKS," in the preface of which
are some interesting statistics of the book-trade in the United States.
From this I make the following extract :

" It seems to be generally agreed that in the twelve years ending
1842, nearly half the publications issued in the United States were
reprints of English books," <fec.

"There are no means of verifying this, but the increase and com
parative nationality of the literature during the last five years (1850
to 1856) are very striking, testifying at once by its progressive char-

APPENDIX NOTES. 553

acter to the position, strength, and value of the literature of the
country at the present day.

"During 1852, unavoidably including many really published in
the preceding six months, we find there were 966 new books and
new editions; 312 of which were reprints of English books, and 56
translations from other countries.

"During 1853, 879 new books and new editions, including 298
reprints of English books, and 37 translations.

"During 1854, 765 new books and new editions, of which 277
were reprints of English books, and 41 translations.

"During 1855, 1,092 new books and new editions, including 250
reprints of English books, and 38 translations.

"During the six months to July, 1856, 751 new books and new
editions, of which but 102 were reprints of English books, and 26
translations."

This statement, made with great care from published catalogues,
notices, and titles of books, coincides in a remarkable degree with the
conclusions at which I had arrived, as will be seen at page 389, vol. ii.
According to this catalogue of the Messrs. Low, the proportion of
British books in our book production is now about twenty to twenty-
five per cent. It is to be remarked, however, that a great many new
editions of school-books, and popular works of constant and largo
sale, are produced, of which no public notice is given, and which,
therefore, are not included in their estimate, above quoted. If we
allow for these editions, we shall see that my estimate of twenty per
cent, for tho proportion of British literature in our publications at
the present time, is fully sustained. The rapid relative increase of
American over British mind in our literature, is equally manifest
from both statements.

NOTE III.

" Old Humphrey" or George Mogridge, the first Counter
feiter of the Parley Books.

I have just met with a book recently issued by the London Reli
gious Tract Society, entitled " Memoirs of Old Humphrey," that is,
the late George Mogridge, a well-known writer of religious books
end essays, especially for the young, for the last thirty years. By

VOL. II.— 24

554 APPENDIX NOTES.

a list of his writings, inserted in this volume, it seems he was the
person employed by Mr. Thomas Tegg, to write the counterfeit
Parley books, of which I have given an account at page 292, vol. ii.

Until now, the real authorship of these volumes has been kept a
secret. Tegg disguised the matter by encouraging the idea that he
wrote them himself. It appears by the Memoir, above alluded to,
that the real author of this imposition, was a person claiming to be
very pious, and now that his fraud is known, he becomes the hero
of a religious tract society 1

The false books which he wrote, and which have been palmed
off upon the public for twenty years, as written by me, were as
follows :

Peter Parley's Tales of Great Britain.

Greece, Ancient and Modern.

Rome and Modern Italy.

Mythology of Ancient Greece and Rome.

Geography.

Tales about Christmas.

Shipwrecks and Disasters at Sea

Some of these are founded upon genuine books, and some are
wholly original ; but they are all written with a sedulous attempt
to make them pass as by the veritable author of Parley's Tales.
This was the first example of counterfeiting these works, and led to
that system of fraud which has caused me so much injury and an
noyance.

INDEX.

ABD-EL-KADIR, ii. 452.
ABERCKOMBIE, Dr. John, ii. 282.
ADAMS, John, i. 119 ; ii. 92, 510.
ADAMS, J. Q.,i. 274; ii. 13, 80, 185,

400, 403, 404, 408.
ADAMS, Samuel, i. 162.
ALBERT, Prince, ii. 840.
Albion, Ship, ii. 161.
ALFRED, King, i. 94.
ALLEN, Ethan, ii. 99.
ALLEN, Ira, ii. 99.
ALLEN, John, i. 851.
ALLEN, J. W., i. 852.
ALSOP, Kichard, ii. 123.
AMES, Fisher, ii. 38.
AMP&RE, author, ii. 509.
ANDRE, i. 518.
Annuals, The, ii. 259.
APPLETON, D. & Co., ii. 254, 888.
APPLETON, Wm., ii. 278.
ARAGO, Astronomer, ii. 444, 475.
ARNOLD, Benedict, i. 469.
ASBURY, Rev. Francis, i. 205.
ASHBURTON, Lord, i. 508.
ASTOR, John Jacob, ii. 71.
AUSTIN FAMILY, i. 370.

B.

BABCOCK, Elisha, ii. 28.
BACON, Dr. Leonard, i. 876.
BACON, Rev. Mr., ii. 118.
BACON, Rev. Dr. Leonard, ii. 118.
BAILEY, Mrs. i. 478.

BAINBRIDGE, Com., I. 454.
BAIRD, Dr., ii. 192.
BAKER, Dr., i. 522.
BALDWIN, Granther, i. 82, 284, 522.
BALLANTYNE, James, ii. 186.
Baltimore Riot, i. 439.
BANCROFT, George, ii. 252.
BANGS, ii. 381.
Barley-wood, ii. 163.
BARLOW, Joel, i. 274 ; ii. 18.
BARNARD, Henry, i. 541 ; ii. 381.
BARROT, Odillon, ii. 453, 466, 467.
BARTLETT, Rev. J., i. 181, 540.
BAYARD, J. A., i. 128.
BAYARD, W., ii. 70.
BAYLIES, Hodijah, ii. 42.
BEDDOES, Dr., i. 377.
BEECHER, Catherine, ii. 94.
BEECHER, Edward, ii. 94.
BEECHER, Henry Ward, ii. 94
BEECHER, Lyman, ii. 93.
BENEDICT, Aunt Delight, i. 34, 224.
BENEDICT, Deacon John, i. 148, 223,

522.

BENEDICT, Noah B., i. 878.
BENEDICT, Rev. Noah, i. 878.
BENTON, Thomas H., ii. 430, 481.
BERANGER, Author, ii. 509.
Berlin, Conn., ii. 63.
Berlin, Decree of, i. 446.
Bethel Rock, Legend of, i. 881.
BIDDLE, Com., i. 488.
BIGELOW, Timothy, ii. 41.
BISHOP, Abraham, i. 122.
lii-iiiir, Deacon Samuel, i. 122.
BISHOP, Sarah, llenuitess, i.'.

556

INDEX.

Blackwood's Magazine, ii. 184.
BLACKWOOD, William, ii. 184, 196.
BLANC, Louis, ii. 478, 502.
BLATCHFORD, Eev. Dr., i. 180.
BLISS, George, ii. 41.
BLISS & WHITE, ii. 155.
Blue-Lights, i. 481.
BOARDMAN, Elijah, ii. 50, 51.
BONAPARTE, Jerome, i. 111.
BONAPARTE, Napoleon, i. 260.
BONAPARTE, Pauline, i. 113.
BRADLEY, Col. P., i. 229, 522.
BRADLEY, Stephen E., i. 448 ; ii. 99
Book-Trade, ii. 879.
Bosc, Agriculturist, ii. 444.
BOWEN, Charles, ii. 844.
BRODIE, Sir B. C., ii. 282.
BRONSON, Mr., ii. 135.
BROOKS, Eev. C., i. 541.
BROUGHAM, Lord, ii. 232.
BROWN, Dr. John, i. 377.
BRYANT, W. C., ii. 110, 278.
BUCCLEUGH, Duke of, ii. 181.
BUCHANAN, J., ii. 514, 520.
BUCKINGHAM, J. T., ii. 35, 253.
Buffalo, i. 444.
BULL, Thomas, ii. 52.
BURDETT, Sir F., ii. 234.
BURNETT, Eev. Dr., i. 177, 539.
BURNS, Eobert, ii. 204.
BUSHELL, Dr., ii. 94.
BYRON, Lord, i. 154; ii. 101, 105,
188, 197, 250.

C.

CABOT, George, ii. 28, 36.
CALHOUN, J. C., i. 514 ; ii. 405, 406,

420, 427.

CAMPBELL, Lord, ii. 366.
CAMPBELL, Thomas, ii. 275.
CANNING, George, ii. 233.
CAREY, H. C., ii. 361.
CARLYLE, Thomas, ii. 359.
CARTER, J. G., i. 144, 540 ; ii. 381.
Castine, ii. 27.
CATALANI, Madame, ii. 236.
CAUSIDIEKE, ii. 478.

CAVAIGNAC, ii. 478, 502.

CHALMERS, Dr., ii. 192, 248.

CHAMPION, Henry, ii. 27.

CHAMPOLLION, i. 863.

CHANNING, W. E., ii. 253, 841.

CHARLES II., Charter of i. 63.

CHARLES IX., King, ii. 366.

CHARLES X., King, ii. 449.

CHARTRES, Duke of, ii. 467.

CHASE, Bishop, ii. 52.

CHAUNCEY FAMILY, i. 369.

CHEEVER, G. B., ii. 255.

CHENEY, John, ii. 262.

Chesapeake, Frigate, i. 275 ; cap
tured, 456.

CHILD, Mrs., i. 173.

CHITTENDEN, T., ii. 99.

CLARK, Eev. Mr., i. 520.

CLARKSON, Matthew, ii. 70.

CLAY, Henry, i. 511 ; ii. 325, 394,
397, 405, 408, 420, 504.

CLAYTON, J. M., ii. 476.

CLEMENS, Jeremiah, ii. 483.

CLERC, Laurent, ii. 127.

CLEVELAND, Eev. Mr., i. 130.

CLIFFORD, J. H., ii. 439.

COCKBURN, Mr., ii. 349.

COGGESWELL, M. F., ii. 123, 126.

COHEN, M. M., ii. 325.

Cold Friday, i. 393.

COLEMAN, Henry, ii. 475.

COLEMAN, William, ii. 35.

COLES, J. B., ii. 70.

COLMAN, George, ii. 101.

COLERIDGE, S. T., ii. 101.

COLT, Samuel, i. 534.

Communists, ii. 363.

Conservatives, i. 119.

Convention, Hartford, ii. 9.

Convention, Hartford, Members of,
ii. 81.

COOKE, Amos, i. 823, 830.

COOKE, Col. J. P., i. 326.

COOK, Dr., ii. 192.

COOPER, J. Fenimore, ii. 110, 184,
201.

Copyright, Laws respecting, ii.
877.

INDEX.

557

CORBIN, Mr. P. H. ii. 475.
Cotton, History of, i. 365.
Courant, Connecticut, i. 411.
Courbevoie, i. 418.
Courier, Boston, ii. 284, 543.
COWDEN, E. C., ii. 475.
CRAIG, Sir J. H., ii. 14.
CRANSTOUN, Mr., ii. 173.
CRAWFORD, W. H., ii. 400.
CRITTENDEN, J. J., ii. 481.
CULLEN, Dr. William, i. 377.
CUSHING, Caleb, ii. 41, 275.
CUTTING, Col. Jonas, ii. 50.
CUVIER, Zoologist, ii. 444.

D.

DALLAS, George M., ii. 514.
DANA, R. H., ii. 252.
Danbury, i. 323, 327, 395.
DANE, Nathan, ii. 41.
DARTON & Co., ii. 286, 296, 307, 551.
DAVIS, John, ii. 849.
DEARBORN, Gen., i. 455.
DECATUR, Com., i. 457, 487.
DEKAT, Com., i. 374.
DELBRUCK, M., ii. 481, 484.
DELIGHT, Aunt, i, 84, 224.
Demagogism, i. 120.
DEMMING, H. C., i. 898.
Democratic Clubs, i. 117.
DEWEY, Orville, ii. 275.
DEXTER, Franklin, ii. 505.
DICKENS, Charles, ii. 355, 359, 878.
DICKINSON, D. S., ii. 94.
Domingo, St., ii. 61.
Dow, Lorenzo, i. 200, 205, 206.
Dow, Peggy, i. 208.
DOWNIE, Com., i. 497.
DUCHATEL, Min., ii. 466.
Duciii, Dr., i. 162, 192.
Puck Island, i. 42.
DUDEVANT, Madame, ii. 509.
DUMAS, Alexandra, ii. 509.
DUMAS, Adolphe, ii. 509.
DUNCAN, G. B., ii. 828.
DUPUYTREN, Surgeon, ii. 448.
Durham, i. 868.

DUTTON, Henry, ii. 94.

DWIGHT, Dr. Timothy, i. 94, 179,

191, 847.

DWIGHT FAMILY, i. 850.
DWIGHT Theodore, i. 435, 454

Echo, Poems, ii. 128.
Eclipse of the sun, 1806, i. 267.
EDGEWORTH, Miss, ii. 199.
Edinburgh, ii. 170.
Edinburgh Review, ii. 170.
EDWARDS, Pierpont, i. 136.
ELLIOT, Rev. Mr., i. 179.
ELLSWORTH, H. L., ii. 9.
ELLSWORTH, Mrs., i. 43.
ELLSWORTH, Oliver, i. 94, 536 ; ii.

511.

ELY, Col. John, i. 16, 466, 538.
ELY, Grandmother, i. 88.
Embargo, i. 446, 499.
EMMETT, Thomas Addis, ii. 72.
England, Scenery of, ii. 212.
Episcopacy, i. 189.
Erie, Lake, victory of, i. 456.
ERVING, G. W., ii. 475.
EVERETT, A. H., ii. 348, 346.
EVERETT, Edward, ii. 252, 278, 849,

417, 483.
EYRE, Col., i. 469.

F.

Famine in New England, ii. 78.
FAY, T. S., ii. 275.
FIELDS, J. T., ii. 275, 278.
FILLMORE, Millard, ii. 382.
FISHER, A. W., ii. 162.
FISHER, Rev. Mr., i. 179.
FONTAINE, Architect, ii. 444.
FORSYTH, Secretary of State, ii. 429,

480.

FOURIER, Geometrician, ii. 443.
FBANKHN, Benjamin, i. 94, 41-i ; ii.

611.

Fruit Festival, New York, ii. 277.
FULTON, Robert, i. 288.

558

INDEX.

G.

GALLATIN, Albert, i. 448, 510.
GALLAUDET, Thomas H., i. 202; ii.

126.

GAY-LUSSAC, ii. 444.
GENET, French Minister, i. 117.
GEOFFROY ST. HILAIRE, ii. 443.
GEORGE IV., ii. 223, 238.
Ghent, treaty of, i. 501 ; ii. 59.
Giant's Causeway, ii. 168.
GIBBS, Col. George, i. 360.
GILLIES, Judge, ii. 175.
GIRARDIN, Emile, ii. 509.
GIRARDIN, Madame, ii. 509.
GLASS, Eev. John, i. 398.
GODDARD, Calvin, ii. 26, 46.
GOODRICH FAMILY, i. 370.
GOODRICH, Elizur, D.D., i. 523.
GOODRICH, Chauncey, i. 16, 417, 526 ;

ii. 32, 44.
GOODRICH, Elizur, LL.D., i. 16,

122, 530.
GOODRICH, Rev. Samuel, i. 16, 17,

516, 531.

GOODRICH, C. C., i. 533.
GOODRICH, Professor C. A., i. 43 ; ii.

384.
GOODRICH, Charles A., i. 151, 533 ;

ii. 112.

GOODRICH, Elizur, Jr., i. 43.
GOODRIDGE, Major, ii. 10.
GOODWIN, George, i. 410.
GOODWIN, J. M., ii. 53.
Gospellers, i. 195.
GOULD, George, ii. 94.
GOULD, James, ii. 93.
GRACIE, Archibald, ii. 70, 71.
Graham's Magazine, ii. 382.
GRATTAN, T. C., ii. 342.
Greenfield Hill, i. 49.
GREENWOOD, F. W. P., ii. 273.
GREGORY, Molly, i. 72.
GRELLET, Peter, i. 256.
GRISWOLD, Dr. Rufus W., ii. 262,

382.

Griswold, Fort, i. 468.
GRISWOLD, Roger, i. 461.

Groton, village, i. 406.

GUIZOT, Minister, ii. 450, 457, 466.

H.

HALE, Nathan, ii. 253.

HALE, S. J., ii. 280.

HALLECK, F., ii. 156.

HAMILTON, Alexander, i. 275.

HAND, Dr., ii. 80.

HANSON, Alexander, i. 441.

HARDY, Com., i. 457, 469.

HARPER, James, ii. 254.

HARPER & BROTHERS, ii. 254, 383.

HARRISON, Gen., i. 455.

Hartford, City of, i. 436.

Hartford Convention, i. 450. ii. 9.

HATCH, Moses, i. 331.

HAVEN, Franklin, ii. 336.

HAWES, Dr. Joel, ii. 384.

HAWES, Miss, ii. 385.

HAWKES, W., ii. 475.

HAWLEY, Deacon Elisha, i. 72, 225,

519.

HAWLEY, Irad, i. 521.
HAWLEY, Rev. Thomas, i. 183, 516.
HAWLEY, Elijah, i. 137
HAWLEY, Stiles, i. 521.
HAWLEY, William, i. 519.
HAWTHORNE, N., ii. 269.
HAYNE, Col., i. 511 ; ii. 426.
HAZARD, Benjamin, ii. 42.
HENNEN, Alfred, ii. 825.
HENRY III., King, ii. 366.
HENRY, John, ii. 14.
HENTZ, Andre, ii. 483.
Herald, New York, ii. 382.
HILDRETH, Historian, i. 123, 451.
HILL, Isaac, ii. 429, 430.
HILLHOUSE, James, ii. 44.
HINMAN, R. R., ii. 33.
HOLBROOK, Josiah, i. 541.
HOLLEY, G. W., ii. 94.
HOLMES, 0. W., ii. 275.
HOOD, Thomas, ii. 302, 357.
HOPKINS, Lemuel, i. 435 ; ii. 114.
HOPKINSON, Francis, i. 282.
HUBBARD, S. D., i. 374.

INDEX.

559

HUDSON & GOODWIN, i. 410.
HULL, Com., i. 454.
HULL, Gen., i. 453.
HUMPHRIES, David, i. 404 ; ii. 116.
HUMPHRIES, H., D.D., i. 539.
HUNTER, William, ii. 398.
HUNTING-TON, J. W., ii. 93.
HUNTINGTON, S. H., ii. 109.

r.

INGERSOLL, Eev. Jonathan, i. 249,

516.

INGERSOLL, Jared, i. 518.
INGERSOLL, Jonathan, Judge, i. 254.
INGERSOLL, Joseph, i. 250.
INGERSOLL, Moss, i. 250.
INGERSOLL, Grace, i. 255.
INGERSOLL, R. I., i. 254.
INGERSOLL, C. J., ii. 31, 56.
International Copyright, ii. 355.
IRVING, Rev. Edward, ii. 240.
IRVING, Washington, ii. 442.
IZARD, Gen., i. 496.

J.

JACKSON, Gen., i. 502 ; ii. 400, 403.

JACKSON, Judge, Charles, ii. 15.

JAGGER, Beggar, i. 60.

JAY, John, ii. 511.

JEFFERSON, Thomas, i. 63, 108, 115,

273 ; ii. 13.

JEFFREY, Francis, ii. 174, 178.
JENNKR, Dr., i. 42.
JENNINGS, Hotel -keeper, ii. 70.
JESUP, Gen., ii. 52, 54.
JOHNSON, Cupt. N., i. 464.
JOHNSON, Dr. S., i. 272.
.IUINVII.LK, I'riiu-uss de, ii. 469.
JONES, Com., i. 454, 488.
JONES, Paul, ii. 208.
JOUY, Author, ii. 445.

K.

Kalewala, Poem of, i. 50.

KEELER, 'Squire Timothy, i. 20, 522.

KENT, Judge, ii. 72.

KETTELL, Samuel, ii. 284.

KEY, F. S., i. 490.

KING, Charles, ii. 70.

KING, Family of, i. 517.

KING, Gen. Joshua, i. 120, 239, 517.

KING, Kufus II., i. 147, 247 ; ii. 898.

KNATCHBALL, Sir E., ii. 250.

Knickerbocker Magazine, ii. 882,

883.
KNOX, Gen., i. 536.

LACEY, Bookseller, ii. 285.
LACROIX, Mathematician, ii. 444.
Lady of the Lake, ii. 169.
LAENNEC, Physician, ii. 447.
LAFAYETTE, Gen., ii. 451.
LAMARCK, Naturalist, ii. 444.
LAMARTINE, ii. 467, 502, 509.
LAMB, Lady Caroline, ii. 189.
LAPLACE, Astronomer, ii. 444.
LARREY, Baron, ii. 443.
LARROQUE, Baron, Hiyaician, ii. 281 .
LAW, Jonathan, ii. 109.
LAWRENCE, Abbott, i. 94, 542.
LAWRENCE, Amos, i. 542.
LAWRENCE, Capt., i. 456.
LAWRENCE, William, i. 542.
LECOMPTE, Bois, ii. 505.
LEDYARD, Col., i. 468.
LEE, Dr. S. H. P., i. 485.
LEE, Gov. Henry, i. 442.
Leopard, British ship, i. 275.
LEWIS, Rev. Dr., i. 176, 539.
LEWIS and CLARKE'S Expedition, i.

278.

L'HujMiMi.!:, Dr.,ii. 281.
Lino-Lino, Kiug, ii. 289.
LING AN, Gen., i. 442.
LIYINUSTON, Chancellor, i. 404.
LmiWROX, K<h\ard, ii. 510.
Loch Katrine, ii. 169, 209.
LOCKE, John, ii. 164.
LOCKHABT, J. G., ii. 178, 190, 196,

208.
LOCKHART, Mrs., ii. 197.

560

INDEX.

LOCKWOOD, H. N., i. 388.
London, Progress of, ii. 222.

M.

MACDONOUGH, Com., i. 497.

MACKENZIE, Judge, ii. 175.

MACKINTOSH, Sir J., ii. 231.

MACOMB, Gen., i. 497.

MACY, Capt., ii. 161.

McGEE, Messrs., i. 205.

MADISON, James, i. 448, 498 ; ii. 14,

58.

MANN, Horace, ii. 381.
MANTON, Edward, ii. 42.
Maple sugar, i. 68.
MARCT, William H., ii. 509, 513.
MAKS, Mademoiselle, ii. 446.
MARSH, Rev. Dr., i. 221, 258.
MARSHALL, Judge, ii. 327, 394.
MARSHALL, T., ii. 431.
MARTIN, Ilyacinthe, ii. 479.
MARTIN, Peter Parley, ii. 285, 298.
MASON, J. M., ii. 74, 118.
MASON, Lowell, ii. 881.
MEAD, Jerry, i. 116.
MEAD, Eev. Mr., i. 18.
MEAD, Whitman, ii. 25.
MELLEN, Greuville, ii. 274.
Merchants' Magazine, ii. 882.
Mercury, American, ii. 30.
Merino sheep, i. 404.
M£RY, Author, ii. 509.
Meteor of 1807, i. 277.
Methodism, i. 195.
Milan Decree, i. 446.
MILLER, John, ii. 137.
Mirror, Connecticut, ii. 121, 143.
MITCHELL, Eev. Mr., i. 179, 539.
MOLE, Count, ii. 458, 466.
MONCRIEF, Sir H., ii. 173.
MONROE, Mrs., ii. 402.
MONROE, President, ii. 127, 401, 402,

511.

MONTPENSIER, Duchess of, ii. 469.
MOORE, Thomas, ii. 189.
MORE, Hannah, i. 172 ; ii. 163, 168,

255.

MORGAN, Capt., ii. 50.
MORGAN, Lady, i. 113.
MORSE, S. F., ii. 534.
MORTON, Lord, ii. 191.
MORTON, Marcus, ii. 349.
MOSELY, Charles, i. 464.
MURRAY, Eev. John, i. 189.

N.

NAPOLEON, Emperor, i. 112.
NAPOLEON, Louis, i. 113 ; ii. 489,

503.

NEAL, John, ii. 275, 357, 375.
NEALE, Joseph C., ii. 359.
NEMOURS, Duke of, ii. 457, 465, 467.
Newark, i. 455.
New Bedford, ii. 349.
New Haven, i. 339.
New Orleans, ii. 324.
New Orleans, battle of, i. 502.
NILES. J. M., ii. 429.
Non-importation Act, i. 446.
Norfolk, i. 444.

North American Eeview, ii. 252.
No YES, Eev. Mr., I 178.
N unification, ii. 58.

O.

O'CoNNELL, D., ii. 158.
Ohio, Emigration to, ii. 79.
OLMSTEAD, Deacon N., i. 114, 222,

522.

OLMSTEAD, Lewis, i. 38.
OLMSTEAD, Matthew, i. 265.
OLMSTEAD, Stephen, i. 38.
OLMSTED, David, i. 27.
OPIE, Mrs., ii. 255.
ORLEANS, Duchess of, ii. 467.
OSGOOD, Mrs., ii. 274.
OTIS, H. G., ii. 15, 25, 27, 87, 898.

P.

PACKENHAM, Gen., i. 502.
PAINE, Thomas, i. 117, 118.
PALMERSTON, Lord, ii. 234.

INDEX.

561

Panama Mission, ii. 896.
Paris, City of, ii. 438.
PARIS, Count de, ii. 467.
PARK, Mungo, i. 275.
PARSONS, Judge, TbeophiluB, ii. 38.
PATTERSON, Miss, i. 111.
PAULINE BONAPARTE, i. 113.
PAYSON, Eev. Edward, ii. 75.
Peace, i. 496, 501.
PEEL, Sir Robert, ii. 234.
PERCIVAL, J. G., ii. 130.
PERKINS, Eev. Dr., i. 258.
PERKINS, Thomas H., i. 542; ii.

15.

PERKINS, Jacob, ii. 225, 226, 261.
PERRY, Dr., i. 522.
PERRY'S victory, i. 456.
PIERPONT, J., ii. 95, 278.
PICKERING, John, ii. 271.
PIKE, Gen., i. 455.
PINKNEY, William, ii. 898.
PLUMER, William, ii. 15.
POISSON, Mathematician, ii. 443.
POLK, J. K., President, ii. 424.
POPE Pius VII., i. 118.
PONSARD, Author, ii. 509.
PORTER, Jane, ii. 104.
POUSSIN, G. T., ii. 476.
PRENTISS, S. S., ii. 416.
PRESCOTT, William, ii. 15, 40.
PRESCOTT, William H., ii. 881.
PRIME, Nathaniel, ii. 70.
PROVOST, Gen., i. 496.
PROUDHON, ii. 863.
Puritans, i. 195.
PUTNAM, G. P,, ii. 278, 383.

RACHEL, Actress, Ii. 509.
Radicals, i. 119.
RAMSAY, Allan, ii. 211.
RANDOLPH, John, i. 440, 448 ; ii. 45

896, 397, 431.
REEVE, Tapping, Judge, i. 890 ; ii

93.

RESSEQUIE, A., i. 516.
Revival, The Great, i. 205.
24*

devolution, French, of 1848, ii. 451.
Ridgefield, Town of, i. 16, 57, 800,

515.

RILEY, Isaac, ii. 63.
RIPLEY, Rev. Dr., i. 149, 176.
RISTORI, Madame, ii. 509.
RIVES, "William C., ii. 505.
ROBBINS, Rev. R., ii. 141, 145.
ROBERTSON, Judge, ii. 175.
ROCKWELL, J. O., ii. 257.
ROGERS, John, i. 67.
ROLAND, Madame, ii. 146.
ROLLIN, Ledru, ii. 502.
ROMEYN, Rev. Dr., ii. 78.
Ross, Gen., i. 490.
RUSH, Richard, ii. 478.
RUSSELL, Mrs., ii. 178.
RUSSELL, William, i. 541.

SAND, Madame George, ii. 509
SANDAMAN, Robert, i. 398.
SANFORD, Ezekiel, i. 141.
SANFORD, H. S., ii. 518.
SARGENT, E. and J., ii. 275.
SAUNDERS, George, ii. 519.
SAUZET, Deputy, ii. 467.
SCOTT, Charles, ii. 196.
SCOTT, Sir Walter, ii. 100, 107, 175,

196, 208.

SEABURY, Bishop, i. 132, 190.
SHELDON, George, i. 410 ; ii. 76.
SHERMAN, Roger, i. 94.
SHERMAN, Roger M., ii. 25, 47.
SIGOURNEY, Mrs., ii. 125, 274.
SILLIMAN, Gen., i. 826.
SILLIMAN, Professor, i. 68, 855.
SKELLINGER, J. J., i. 137.
Small-pox, i. 43.
SMITH, Horace, ii. 101.
SMITH, J. L., ii. 50.
SMITH, James, ii. 101.
SMITH, John, ii. 857.
SMITH, John Cotton, i. 62, 461, 589 ;

ii. 89.
SMITH, Lieutenant, i. 21, 152, 27 'J,

276.

562

INDEX.

SMITH, Nathan, i. 392; ii. 157.

SMITH, Nathaniel, i. 378, 388 ; ii. 46,

SMITH, Eev. Mr., i. 181.

SMITH, Sydney, ii. 110.

SMITH, Truman, i. 392.

Smithsonian Institute, ii. 371.

SNELLING, JV, ii. 265.

SOULE, Pierre, ii. 514.

SOULT, Marshal, ii. 466.

South Carolina, Nullification, i. 511,

Southern Literary Messenger, ii,

382.

SOUTHEY, Eob., i. 196 ; ii. 101, 200.
SPARKS, Jared. ii. 252.
Spotted fever, i. 376.
St. Albans, ii. 339.
Star-spangled Banner, i. 490.
Stationers' Company, ii. 272.
STEBBINS, Samuel, i. 140, 522.
STONE, Wm. L., ii. 90, 136.
STOKES, Henry W., ii. 430.
STORY Judge, ii. 327.
STOWE, Mrs., ii. 94, 885.
STRONG, Dr. Nathan, ii. 52, 116.
SUMMERLY, Felix, ii. 312.
SUMNER, Charles, ii. 278.
SUSSEX, Duke of, ii. 226.
SWAN, Eev. Mr., i. 177, 509.
SWIFT, Zephaniah, ii. 18, 46.

T.

TALMA, Actor, ii. 445.
TALMADGE, F. A., ii. 94.
TAMEHAMAHA, King, ii. 233.
TAYLOR, Bayard, ii. 361.
TAYLOR, Jeremy, ii. 247.
TECUMSEH, i. 455.
TEGG, Thomas, ii. 292.
TERRY, Gen. Nathaniel, ii. 28, 46, 51.
THAOHER, B. B., ii. 274.
THENARD, Chemist, ii. 443.
TIIIERS, ii. 467.
THOMAS, Joshua, ii. 41.
TICKNOR, Professor, ii. 198.
TILESTON, Mr., ii. 382.
Times, London,
Times, New York Daily, ii. 382.

TISDALE, Elkanah, ii. 111.

TODD, Dr., i. 376.

Toleration, ii. 84.

TOMPKINS, Vice-President, ii. 56, 394.

TOUCEY, Isaac, ii. 109.

TRACY, Uriah, ii. 18, 92.

TREADWELL, John, i. 114; ii. 45.

Tribune, New York, ii. 382.

TRUBNER & Co., London, ii. 887,

388.

TRUMBULL. Col. John., ii. 115, 124.
TRUMBULL, John, i. 435; ii. Ill, 115,
TRYON, Gen., i. 326.

U.

Unitarianism, i. 188.

V.

VALUE, Count, ii. 61.

VAN BUREN, Martin, ii. 343, 431.

Vermont, ii. 99.

VERPLANCK, G. C., ii. 275.

VICTORIA, Queen, ii. 340, 515.

VINCENT, Sir F., ii. 839.

W.

WADSWORTH, Daniel, ii. 122.
WADSWORTH FAMILY, i. 870.
WADSWORTH, Jeremiah, ii. 122.
WAINWRIGHT, J. M., ii. 109.
WAITE, T. B., i. 541.
WALDO, Daniel, ii. 41.
WALKER, Samuel, ii. 138.
War of 1812, i. 438.
WARD, Samuel, ii. 42.
WARDEN, D. B., Consul, ii. 443.
WARDEN, Francis, ii. 506.
WARNER, Miss, ii. 885.
WASHINGTON, President, i. 106, 118.
WATERMAN, Eev. Mr.,i. 181.
WEBSTER, Daniel, i. 94, 95, 508, 510 ;

ii. 10, 222, 827, 342, 400, 405, 409,

414, 504.
WEBSTER, Noah, i. 863 ; ii. 18, 57,

189, 381.

INDEX.

563

WELLINGTON, Duke of, ii. 224, ?
WELLS, Dr. S., i. 376.
WELLS, John, ii. 70.
WEST, Benjamin, ii. 42.
WHIPPLE, E. P., ii. 392.
WHITE, Ebenezer, i. 402.
WHITNEY, Eli, i. 864.
WHITTIER, J. G., ii. 145.
WICKLIFFE, R., Jr., ii. 475.
WILBERFORCE, William, ii. 166.
WILDE, S. S., ii. 41.
WILEY, Charles, ii. 135.
WILKINSON, Gen., i. 455, 496.
WILLARD, Mrs. Emma, ii. 25.
WILLIAM IV., King, ii. 339.
WILLIAMS, Roger, i. 187.
WILLIS, N. P., ii. 256, 264.
WINCHESTER, Gen., i. 445.

WINTHROP, R. C., ii. 278.

WIRT, William, ii. 418, 429.

WISE, Henry, ii. 404.

WOLCOTT, Frederick, ii. 91.

WOLCOTT, M. A., ii. 91.

WOLCOTT, Oliver, i. 113; ii. 18, 59,

70, 87, 88.
WOOD, George, ii. 505.

WOODBRIDGE, W. C., U 113.

Woodbury, Town of, i. 378.
WOOSTER, Calvin, i. 206.
WOOSTER, Gen., i. 827, 898.
WRIGHT Silas, ii. 431.

Y.

YABACOMB, Mrs., i. 60.
YORK, Duke of, ii. 228.

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