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enterprise and industry of her citizens, there exist resources which must inevitably supply abundant wealth and prosperity. If we turn but to the South and view her means, the debt, which now fills her people with alarm, will sink to an insignificant sum. The cotton crop of Mississippi, for the present year, will amount to 600,000 bales. This, at an average of thirty dollars per bale, will be eighteen millions of dollars. The cotton crop of Alabama, for the same year, is 500,000 bales, which, at thirty dollars per bale, is fifteen millions of dollars. Here, taking the article of cotton, the great staple of this country, we have, in these two States alone, the immense yearly income to her people of thirty-three millions of dollars. This fact must show, to the most disheartened, that no pecuniary distresses can long affect this country; and that it is essentially their interest, in view of a prosperous commerce in their productions, and certainly their honor, to effect a prompt and decided arrangement of their foreign debt. And we are convinced, from the expression of the public opinion, that the people are moving in this matter. There are interests involved of a character too important and valuable, for them to remain unmoved at events, which threaten such a dissolution of the bonds of honor and good faith. The American States-their union-their constitutions, all cost too high, to be sacrificed for slight causes: and posterity has a claim upon our justice, if every other consideration were disregarded.

ART. VII.-American Notes for General Circulation. By CHARLES DICKENS, Esq. First American Edition. NewYork: 1842. Wilson & Co. Publishers.

THIS is a thoroughly English production, written in the spirit which usually characterizes the works of British travellers in America. It is dedicated to Mr. Dickens' friends in the United States, who, in welcoming him to the shores of the New World, he says, "left his judgment free," and it professes, moreover, to "speak the truth good humoredly and in a kind spirit." The freedom of the writer's judgments, will not be questioned by any who have read his book. Mr. Dickens has, undoubtedly, taken many liberties, and, if he

have spoken the truth about some things that attracted his attention during his late visit, we are led to infer that his judgment, however independent, has been warped by his prejudices, and that the facts he states are discolored by the influence of the vivid imagination which all acknowledge that he possesses. Mr. Dickens could and ought to have written. a better book on America. Something superior was expected from his keen observation of men and things and his rare talents. Something too of the benevolent temper, which characterizes the heroes of his charming fictions, was supposed to appertain to their author, and it was believed would appear in his portraitures of American character and institutions. De Tocqueville had done us much justice. So had Mr. Murray. They had written thorough works, in the tone of educated and polite persons, who, whatever their attachment to their country and their birth-place, did not think it incumbent on them, as men of sense, to vituperate and ridicule those by whom they were kindly treated, simply because they were republicans. They came to see the American people, to observe and note their peculiar traits of character and manners, to witness the workings and success of their novel form of government-in a word, to study and record something of the history of human nature under the lights which a larger liberty, than other nations enjoyed, had shed around it. It was hoped, that Mr. Dickens would pursue a similar course-that we were to look for fair dealing at least, if not for evidences of a generous philanthropy, from one whose works had previously awakened the sympathiesexcited the admiration, and elicited the loud plaudits of the whole American people. We never for a moment anticipated that he would descend to the low buffoonery of the Halls, the Fidlers and the Marryatts, who had preceded him, and that his highest merit would consist in retailing their stale jests and miserable sarcasms, perpetrated at the expense of his hospitable entertainers. We are sadly disappointed in our expectations.

The work before us is evidently written in haste, without regard to the previous reputation of its author, and is pervaded by a captious, sneering spirit. There are occasional exhibitions of his peculiar powers of humor; some graphic descriptions of interesting scenes, at which we pause with commendation; the author is sometimes pleased, or pretends to be so he utters, now and then, a well timed compliment,

which will be felt and remembered; but, taking the work as a whole, we have seldom read a more fault-finding, discourteous, bitter, shallow production. We were never more satisfied of the justice of the conclusion to which we have arrived, that poets and novelists, whatever their pretensions and merits as such, are still nothing but men,-are often swayed by vile prejudices and actuated by mean passions, and that self-interest, which we all disclaim as a motive, adheres to the race, in its altitude as well as its humility, controlling the plans and conduct, not only of nations, but of individuals.

We are entitled to speak of this work in terms of the strongest displeasure. It has excited by its meanness, scurrility and trivial character, the scorn of the whole country, including even those adoring parasites and sycophants who were most ready to bend the knee to their idol, while he was among them. We do not say that our countrymen have not deserved, to some extent, this peculiar exhibition of the stranger's gratitude, for the disgusting parade and ostentatious display of courtesy, with which he was received upon his arrival here. Flattery is always sure to breed contempt towards the flatterer, especially when the applauded individual expects different treatment,-is conscious, whatever his position in society, that he is a mere man, and has done nothing calculated to produce such an excess of homage. It was not necessary, in order to vindicate our national taste and respect for literature, that we should condescend to servility, in paying our respects to a popular author; besides that Mr. Dickens, like a spoilt child, does not seem fitted to endure patiently too much petting. He becomes exacting, captious, querulous and ungrateful with every new indulgence. "Oliver asks for more," and when he receives more, he turns round and bites the hand of his benefactor, who has supplied his morbid appetite with the most costly viands. A frank, manly, and independent carriage, befitting Americans-a free people,-would certainly have been more grateful to any man of sense and discernment. It would have awakened respect for our character; whereas we pursued the very course which would cause us, and deservedly too, to be despised.

There are reasons for everything that happens, and Mr. Dickens' reception and his book are susceptible of an explanation that, we fancy, lies very nearly upon the surface of

things. Notwithstanding our plodding industry and business habits and utilitarian schemes, we, Americans, are an excitable people, charmed with all kinds of novelties, and the arrival among us of an English author of such celebrity, was sure to create a sensation which, without much difficulty, while it gratified the national propensity, could be turned to profitable account. He was to be the lion of the day-a person in whom all classes of our citizens-not only men of letters, but the common people, would take a deep interest; and our sagacious friends in Boston and New-York, with their accustomed regard to the main chance in life, were determined to make as much capital out of his visit as they could. The nine days' wonder was to be rendered as imposing and strange as possible, in order that all might be captivated, and that all might contribute something to the common fund, from which entertainment and advantage were to be derived. Mr. Dickens furnished as rare material for newspaper articles as the trial of Colt or the ravings of father Miller, for all, so excessive was their veneration of the man-were anxious to know how he looked and talked and walked and acted, and whether he was like other men, and if not, in what respect he differed from them. The prints in which these matters were faithfully described, were accordingly in great demand, and commanded a ready sale, and were expected to do so by those most interested. The news spread rapidly from city to city, and from the town to the country; people flocked in crowds from all quarters to see the stranger;-the ladies even went so far as to request the favor of a lock of his fair hair as a keep-sake or sort of amulet, or idea-breeder, and we cannot say, whether "rapes of the lock" were not, in some instances, actually perpetrated. Wherever he went it was a gala-day; the newspapers puffed; orators spouted-poets invoked the Muse-minstrels sangthe yeomanry of the country put on their holiday clothes-the council-men made their lowest bow and wore their blandest smile. Mr. Dickens-the illustrious novelist-was in every man's thoughts and upon every man's lips; he was feasted and toasted and be-praised; the mayors made set speeches in honor of his genius and his writings; he was the embodied literature, they said, of his age and country; it was hoped that he would be pleased with his visit to America: whatever honors he received should be attributed in part, at least, VOL. III.NO. 5.

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to the profound respect which the American people entertained for literature, and should be regarded as evidence of the nation's advancement in arts and sciences; they were happy to see him in the United-States of America-very, and Mr. Dickens said, that he was very happy, they might rest assured, to meet his American friends, for such he had every reason to consider them; that he had come, with his heart in his hand, over the wide waters, to see this fine country-the land of freedom-the land of Washington. He thanked them, one and all, for the kind indulgence which they had heretofore extended to his writings; he hoped they might continue to be mutually pleased with each other as long as he lived, and concluded by offering some remarks on the law of copy-right, insisting that it was all-important to the interests of literature and of authors, both in GreatBritain and America-that there should be a change in our legislation in that particular. Wherever he went, similar scenes were enacted-similar compliments bestowed—similar assemblages collected-like speeches made, and like replies given. Those occupied in getting up and sustaining the excitement to the last, had much to do, and, whether their admiration were sincere or not, they hoped certainly to be rewarded for their pains, and doubtless were so.

There was another mistake which our countrymen made in the reception of Mr. Dickens. They over-acted their part, in their zeal to make a favorable impression. They put themselves at once upon their best behavior. Mr. Dickens had come to America, as many supposed, not only to secure the favor of his American readers, but to collect material for future works of fiction. Among the thousands that paid their respects to him, and claimed the honor of his acquaintance, there were individuals doubtless who cherished the proud hope, that they might, some day or other, figure as the heroes or heroines, or, at least, as the subordinate personages, in some of his works, and their names or characters be thus handed down to an enviable immortality. Such a result was within the bounds of possibility-nay, it was actually probable. At any rate, Mr. Dickens, they were sure, would, when he returned home, write a book upon America, as all British travellers had done before him; he would record, in that book, what he had seen and heard in America, and whom he had seen; it was not within human sagacity to predict, whom he would honor with a special

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