compels us. They are the voluntary outgrowths of the piety that is in the community; and the number of them, and their prosperity, are both significant, because they measure our willing homage to religious principle. With inconsiderable exceptions they hold to the vital tenets of Christianity, are every where largely attended, and exert a prodigious influence on conduct and social life. In fact, your looser foreigners say that we are altogether too religious, that the power of the clergy is almost tyrannical, and that the universal observance of religious duties interferes with the freedom and sprightliness of our manners.

Be this as it may, it is certain, that there is more public order in the United States, than any where else; I mean by this, more willing obedience to the fundamental laws of the State. In your despotisms abroad, there is an enforced subjection to law, a sullen, surly, discontented submission, effected by rigid police systems, and at the point of the bayonet. But with us men acquiesce, because, having made their laws for themselves, they take pleasure in submitting to them, and so doing homage to the supremacy of the people. The securities of the public peace are their own embodied will; every individual feels interested in maintaining them, and when they are threatened, would gladly lay down his life in their defence, because they are the shield and panoply of what is dearer to him than his life-his liberty. Oh, John, if there was ever a humbug more enormous than all its tribe, it is that doctrine which teaches that liberty is akin to anarchy. No! no! liberty is the only order; the single source of social tranquillity and stable government. Look how the European nations have been rocking and tossing, since this century began, in the throes of almost incessant revolutions! Scarcely a year has passed without a violent outbreak in some one or other of the monarchies. At three several times, the whole continent has been enveloped in the flames of civil war. Have not you, even, had infinite trouble with Ireland; with the working people; with the chartists? while we, in the midst of intense political discussions, with vast interests depending on every Presidential election; with States widely separated in position and feeling; with large annual accessions of unacclimated foreigners, but without a standing army, and with scarcely any need of a police, have not so much as dreamed of civil combustion and bloodshed. The politicians have sometimes croaked loudly of the dangers of disunion, .but all their lowering looks, and all their muttering thunders, have never yet dis

turbed the mercury of society sufficiently to produce a fall in the stock barometer! There have been changes of administration with us, but not the beginning of an attempt to overturn or even resist the government. The doctrine of nullification, or the right of a State to withdraw from the confederacy, though it has managed to make a great noise, is, thus far at least, an exceedingly harmless affair, and my assurance is, that the good sense, the justice, the spirit of concession which reigns in our councils, will render it unnecessary or impotent in the future.

It is fortunately a characteristic of democratic legislation, that it is perpetually removing from the shoulders of the people the burden of bad laws, and of unjust and oppressive institutions. All that wretched trumpery of absurd forms and iniquitous precedents, for instance, which we inherited from you as a part of the common law, we have long since sent to the dogs, and we rejoice now in simple codes, which we are glad to see, that your wiser statesmen are beginning to commend and adopt. In the same way, whatever evil may lurk in our political relations; whatever practical inequality or injustice may be developed in the working of our system, will be gradually eliminated and destroyed. Thus

our civil dangers decrease with the years, and our prospects of peace and union, already bright, grow brighter with the advancing day.

What, then, do you make of slavery? I hear you exclaim: Why have not your democratic influences extinguished that? How is a despotism of one race over another allowed to expand in the very shelter of your boasted progress? These are consistent questions, John, and when I have more space, I shall give them a full and explicit answer. But let me ask, whether it never occurred to you that this inheritance of some of our States-a thing not of their own seeking, which has grown about them as the Old Man clasped Sinbad,-which is inwrought into the fibre of their society, and involves tremendous commercial and social interests,—whether it was so much a matter for the moral wrath of exquisite fine ladies at Stafford House, as for the cautious, wise, anxious, prayerful consideration of the best heads and noblest hearts of their own people. Do you not think that they who have to struggle with the evil, who live in the midst of it, and know it, must find the remedy? And not those far away who have evils enough of their own to satisfy any moderate philanthropic ambition? More especially should it not be left to the persons, who alone are now responsible for it, when, as I sincerely believe, the

agencies are at work, which will gradually remove it from their care? Here is what I mean: Once slavery existed in all these States, it is now confined to only half of them; in five of the latter, it is not retained by the strongest tenure-in the States bordering on the free States I mean -and as the black race grows less rapidly than the white race here, while the commercial interests involved in slavery, are becoming comparatively less strong than other interests, there is a hope opened up that slavery will pass away. It will pass, however, not by dint of moral objurgation, which never yet drove out any evil, much less one so rooted-not by any single sublime and impossible act of national selfsacrifice, but it will be driven off by advancing civilization-nowhere more rapid than here, it will be crushed by that physical progress which is so expansive and irresistible. Agriculture is the only form of labor compatible with a thriving condition of slavery; introduce commerce and the manufacturing arts where slavery exists, and it retires; it is forced inevitably to abandon its old fields for fresher ones, or to allow itself to be converted into the apprenticeship and wages state. Slaves as such, have no capacity for complicated kinds of business; they cannot navigate ships or railroads, which run away with them; they cannot keep store, for they are dishonest; while in manufactories, being less skilful, they are on the average less profitable than free laborers. The only chance for their lucrative employment, is in mining and the simpler sorts of husbandry. Considering, therefore, with what velocity commerce and the mechanic arts are spreading over those regions here in which the institution remains, we have a ground for hope that we shall see it withdrawing more and more to the South, where it will finally be concentrated in a few localities, and then lose its power. The process may be a slow one, but the end will come. It will come, too, as I believe-if benevolence, and not fanaticism has the management of affairs-without violence, and with the consent of all. But your handsome luscious daughters, John,-bless their dear souls, and your obese, fat-headed, oleaginous Exeter-Hall-men, help the movement best by letting it alone. Meanwhile, if you must have a stuffed Paddy for your pugilistic charities, let me recommend you to pommel your atrocious aristrocratic system, or your treatment of Ireland, or the tourniquet company, which squeezes the blood out of India, or the slavery of the

Danish and Spanish Colonies, and of Russia, where it exists in a thousandfold more aggravated form than in the Southern States. Try it, beloved cousin!

As for our filibusterism, and alleged rapacity for land, there is somewhat to be said. First, however, what a droll hypocrite you are, John, standing there so meekly, and rolling up your pious eyes! Is it that there is such a magnificence in your style of roguery, that, like Robert Macaire, you feel a right to cuff and snub the meaner spirit of our poor Jaques Strops? It appears, that since the year 1800, you have made, in addition to your already enormous possessions, the following territorial acquisitions:

Hong-Kong, in China, has been annexed to the British dominions by the sword; a new Gibraltar has been formed and fortified in Aden; Rajah Brook has displayed his adventurous spirit at Sarawak; you are fast retrieving any concessions you might have inadvertently made in the splendid gem of the South Pacific New Zealand; you are striving to retain your foothold in Central America, and Heaven only knows, where you have not looked, or are not looking, for a few inches more. There is really an impressive and awful grandeur in your spirit of appropriation.

Now, if we, in humble and distant imitation of this stupendous ancestral example, have taken the lands of Uncas and his copper-colored brethren, we have paid handsomely for them-some say, twice as much as they were worth, besides exercising a better care of their owners, than such incorrigible savages deserved; we have acquired Florida, but paid honorably for it, and the same is true of Louisiana; and, though we bullied Mexico in the outset, we settled the account finally with a good round sum. The independence of Texas was recognized by nearly all civilized nations, before it was incorporated into the Union. Not one rood of ground then have we stolen or forced from its unwilling inhabitants by the sword.* Yet, we do confess, that we are not unwilling that our people, and their institutions, should spread over neighboring lands. We are not, because we are convinced that democratic government is the best government; the wisest, the justest, the most humane. Moreover, the system of constitutional fe

deral union, which binds our States together, assuring to each of them complete republican independence, free trade, equal rights of citizenship, reciprocal good will, and a united defence against foreign aggression, is a better system of international relations, than the old system of treaties and a vague "law of nations," which means only the will of the strongest. It is the system which combines Christian fraternity with individual independence, and which unites the strength of perfect central unity, with the pliancy of municipal and local freedom. It is fixed and powerful, yet fluent and susceptible; not petrifying like despotism, nor licentious like anarchy, but free, expansive, harmonious, firm; like the law which guides stars, where each pursues its own rejoicing course, and yet bends in genial homage to the imperial sun. We cannot, therefore, regard the disposition of the people, even of those more wild and turbulent spirits, who yield too unreservedly to the intoxication of a pervading influence, as a mere marauding and piratical rage. We see, beneath the superficial propensity, a deep feeling of inspiration; its excesses we are quick and anxious to restrain, but the profounder impulses on which they are borne, we recognize, and shall strive wisely to direct. The stagnant and leaden conservatism of the world, may croak and denounce as it pleases, but as we have a faith that our movement is a Providential one, designed for the salvation and benefit of poor, ignorant, debased and stationary races; we shall continue to push forward till arrested by some mightier obstacle than vituperation. For, wherever we go, we carry with us the elements of peace, prosperity, progress, and wise government. There is,

therefore, something beneficent, as well as sublime, in the spectacle of our diffusion. It is not like the march of victorious Roman legions to the conquest and subjection of trembling provinces; not like the sudden rush of a Tartar tribe, over populous and blooming plains, leaving desolation in its track; but the steady, onward, fertilizing flow of a mighty river, which bears upon its waves the richest seeds of future harvests. All that is valuable in the achievements of time, is ours; freedom of speech and action; a cheap press; simple and just laws; rapid physical progress; religious equality; stable government; the happiness of the multitude; and these, we deposit wherever we stop, giving them as a free boon to mankind. Other nations have planted dependent colonies, but we raise up and establish states. They govern slaves at a distance, but we train the semi-civilized into freedom, teaching them to govern themselves. Mexico, Cuba, Canada, the Sandwich Islands, under European rule, would remain what they are; under our tutelage, they would grow into powerful communities. Away, then, with the cant about freebooting and rapacity!

Recalling to your mind, my excellent cousin, that the effects of democratic government, as I have briefly shown, are great prosperity, the abolition of unjust and complicated laws, the reduction of poverty and crime, the elevation of the masses, benign government, and the spread of humanitary principles over the globe; let me urge you to a more careful study of democracy, and so I close this epistle.

Accept the assurance of my most distinguished consideration. Yours,

BROTHER JONATHAN.

LITERATURE.

AMERICAN.-We have never known a less prolific holiday season, than that which has just past. Have our publishers been indolent, or is the taste of the public changing? It used to be the custom to issue, when Christmas approached, an almost endless variety of "Gifts," "Remembrances," "Gems," "Tokens," "Wreaths," "Irises," "Albums," &c., &c., &c., with very bad mezzotint engravings, and worse letter-press,-ephemeral works, destined to perish in a few weeks; but that custom appears to be rapidly passing away. But do men and women prefer beautiful standard editions of books in their place? Has the perennial superseded the annual? We certainly hope so; for those gift-books were sad things at best, while no mind has yet been able to compute the value of a Shakspeare, a Milton, a Thomson, a Gray, an Irving, a Bryant, a Longfellow. A general desire for the possession of these immortal writers augurs the happiest improvement. Let our publishers be preparing for it the present year!

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Poems are universally pronounced a "drug in the market," and yet they who ought to know best about it-the publishers-continue to send them forth with almost unexampled rapidity. HENRY ALFORD, and CHARLES MACKAY, are not names well known on this side of the Atlantic; but Messrs. Ticknor, Reid and Fields, have just published two handsome volumes of their respective works, with prefaces by the authors, and, doubtless, with an assurance that they will sell. Mr. Alford is a churchman. and writes gracefully and genially, in the spirit of Herbert and Keble, while Mr. Mackay is a modern reformer, who celebrates the doctrines of Progress, and urges his fellows to a stern and relentless warfare against social injustice and wrong. There is an amiable, tender feeling, in both of them-a fine poetic sense, and an excellent command of language. Some of Mr. Mackay's lyrics have a fiery pathos and energy in them, like the sound of a trumpet. Alford is gentler and quieter in his tone, with a rare sweetness of sentiment. Both will find readers in this country of various tastes.

able of our periodicals. The series of essays on some well-known authors, which appeared in it, were admirable criticisms-unsparing, yet kind and judicious. We hope to be able to offer our own readers some contributions from the pens of their authors.

-How the critics differ! There was the poem, which appeared in our first number, the "Warden of the Cinque Ports," a writer, in the Literary World, alludes to it, as a "break-down," meaning a failure; while another, in the Boston Post, lauds it, as a genuine and excellent poem, the best that has been written on the death of the Duke of Wellington. He is so much enamored of it, that he says,"Putnam's Monthly" would be worth a year's subscription if all the other pages had been blank! The Erening Post, of this city, we perceive, takes the side of its Boston contemporary; but, on the other hand, a New Bedford writer thinks that it was not sufficiently original in its manner, being a "a manifest imitation of Longfellow." English opinion has not yet reached us.

The

-Here is a swelling title, "The Land of the Cesar and Doge; historical and artistic, incidental, personal, and literary,” and means travels in Italy. writer is Mr. WILLIAM FURNISS, of this city, who has made two other adventures in the wilderness of literature. We cannot congratulate him on any great success. His style is inflated and incorrect, and his sentiments common. Take the opening sentence: "On a bright moonlight, in the month of March, two travellers stood upon the deck of the steamer 'Rameses,' shortly after she had passed out of the port of Alexandria. Long and listlessly they watched the receding outlines of the low coast of Egypt, and mused in thoughtful observance until the land was mingled with the ocean, as the two tall towers of the Faro and Diocletian's pillar waved their lone forms, like spectres, against the sky; whilst the last faint twinkling of the beacon-light fled with quivering flashes into extinction, and the last glimmer of its meteoric train fell upon the sea, to token the departure of the receding continent of Africa." With such a load of "epitaphs," as Mrs. Malaprop would say, on board, we wonder how the Rameses got out of the harbor at all.

The writer then proceeds-"They were two friends, who had wandered far from their early western home into the hoary orient, and now met like Eothen, to dream

on the broad bright bosom of the Mediterranean. Travers had journeyed into the Holy Land, and Clarence on the Nile, and they now viewed together the glories of that scene, with the transport of united hearts, and the communion of unbroken sympathies." Were they the Siamese twins?

Immediately the two friends get moonstruck, and philosophize in this wise:

"Clarence, who was the first to break the stillness of that hour, observed the gushing sheen of that bright vision on the gleaming waters, and thus addressed his friend:

"Travers, did you ever notice that the moon, when viewed upon water, casts her full shield at the foot of the beholder, and that her rays diverge from the eye of the spectator, enlarging the masses of broad, silvery waves, with increasing beauty in the distance? Whence then this contrast with the sun, whose rays converge in contrariwise, as you observe at sunrise, when his full orb rushes with molten glory from the sea, and that his image is mirrored on the horizon, and old ocean is awakened by the expanding beams of his light?"

"This philosophy of yours is passing strange, and new to me," said Travers, "although, doubtless, true.

Is it because she

shines by soft and coy-reflected light—and, maiden-like, would lie at the foot of manthat we must view the sun afar, and her soft sheen much nearer, to our sight? So strange, indeed, is it, that the most familiar pheno mena of nature are overlooked by the casual and heedless traveller; and we, who are wont to look upon ourselves as only admirable, are by ourselves so much obscured, that our own shadows dim the philosophy of carth, and leave us little but ourselves to study. Well saith the poet Hastings:

What exile from his native land E'er left himself behind?' "Ever thus presumptuous man, relying on his own strength and glorying in boastful ignorance, is often tripped in his ambitious schemes by some accident of thought."

On the next page we have "softer sheen" and "broad sheen," with more about the moon's "opening her moist eye with tremulous pulsations," and "laving with showery pearls the expanse of sea, washing the welkin with waves of argent beauty." There is a storm shortly after, which is thus described. "Now again, -now still stronger the storm rages,and our free ship tosses and pitches like a tormented giant, taunted by the wanton and lascivious waves. Each jolting shock batters the citadel of a heart, and the pallid lip and quivering eye show that confidence is gone-and we are sick!" Not more so than your readers! Furniss finds it impossible to say that he arrived in due time at Malta, but writes: "The beacon is now passed. Straightway

Mr.

and onward the steamer plunges in her course. Now she enters the narrow portals of the harbor. The paddle-wheel lags, plashes, backs, dashes, the crank truckles, falls, and lazily halts, and she stops! The light-house is behind!" (dead beat, we suppose). The order for dropping anchor is given. "Give way-down anchor," and away the clattering chain rattles to the sea, and the iron flukes plunge into the sea. The sea riles at its mordant bite." And so on to the end, dreary and platitudinous.

"The Rector of St. Bardolph," by the Rev. F. W. SHELTON,-one of our most amusing writers, who loves fun for its own sake, and does not think it necessary that every joke should involve a moral, is a record of the life of a country clergyman, told in a simple but lively way, and abounds in amusing as well as touching incidents. The choir, the tea-table chat, the sexton, the rector, are hit off with unusual drollery, while the sly allusions to religious controversies will have their effect. Mr. SHELTON, the author, has long been one of the most valuable contributors to the pages of the Knickerbocker.

-Barring certain literary inelegancies in LOSSING'S "Field Book of the Revolution," it is a most creditable performance, and, now that it is completed, will take rank among the foremost authorities, on the events and characters of our revolutionary struggle. The labor which must have been expended in collecting the material, is wonderful, while the fidelity and general accuracy is no less surprising. Mr. LOSSING has not only prepared the text, but made the wood-cut designs, which are numerous and well done.

-Any citizen who drinks milk, or allows his children to drink it, will find in a little work called the "Milk Trade of New-York and its Vicinity," some astounding facts. It was prepared by Mr. JOHN MULLALY, a reporter for one of our daily papers, and he has exhibited unusual diligence in the collection, as well as judgment in the arrangement of his materials.

-"The War of Ormuzd and Ahriman in the 19th Century," is the rather high-sounding title of a Baltimore book, by HENRY WINTER DAVIS. It designates the battle between the Republican and Despotic principles, which the author thinks is approaching, and for which he desires to see the nations prepared. Russia is regarded as the embodiment of this and the United States of that, while the other nations must revolve around one or the other, as mere satellites or allies. The rapid rise of Russia is sketched in the