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[This text has been scanned from a photocopy of the first edition kindly provided by the New York State Historical Association, and corrected and converted to HTML by Hugh C. MacDougall (James Fenimore Cooper Society). A Letter to His Countrymen was reprinted in London by John Miller in 1834, and was also included as an appendix to England. With Sketches of Society in the Metropolis (better known as Gleanings in Europe: England) (London: Richard Bentley, 1837), Vol. III, pp. [215]-312. The original footnotes have been renumbered consecutively. Identification of a few major allusions are noted in interpolated footnotes (numbered 2a, 3b, etc.). Spelling and punctuation as are in the original, except that a few very obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. To facilitate citation, the beginning of each page in the original text is noted in {curly brackets}. Any errors noted, or other corrections, should be reported to the Cooper Society web site.]
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This letter has been hastily written, with the hope of procuring
its insertion in one of the daily prints. Its length having exceeded
the writer's expectations, he has presented it to a son of his old
and much esteemed publisher, the late CHARLES WILEY, who has
given it its present form, for purposes connected with his own
convenience.
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1834, by J. Wiley, in the
Clerk's Office of the District Court o the Southern District of New-York.
OSBORN AND BUCKINGHAM, PRINTERS, No. 29 Ann-street.
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THE private citizen who comes before the world with matter relating to himself, is bound to show a better reason for the measure than the voluntary impulses of self love. In my own case, it might, perhaps, appears sufficient excuse for the step now taken, that I am acting chiefly on the defensive; that the editors of several of the public journals have greatly exceeded their legitimate functions, by animadverting on my motives and private affairs; and that assertions, opinions, and acts, have been openly attributed to me, that I have never uttered, entertained, or done. When an individual is thus dragged into notice, the right of self-vindication would seem to depend on a principle of natural justice; and yet, if I know the springs of my own conduct, I am less influenced by any personal considerations in what I am now doing, than by a wish to check a practice that has already existed too long among us; which appears to me to be on the increase; and which, while it is degrading to the character, if persisted in, may become dangerous to the institutions of this country.
The practice of quoting the opinions of foreign nations, by way of helping to make up its own estimate of the degree of merit that belongs to its public men, is, I believe, a custom peculiar to America. That our colonial origin, and provincial habits, should have given rise to such a usage, is {4} sufficiently natural; that journals which have a poverty of original matter, should have recourse to that which can be obtained not only gratuitously, but by an extraordinary convention, without loss of reputation, and without even the necessity of a translation, need be no mystery; but the readiness with which the practice can be accounted for, will not, I think, prove its justification, if it can be shown that it is destructive of those sentiments of self-respect, and of that manliness and independence of thought, that are necessary to render a people great, or a nation respectable. Questions hare now arisen between a portion of the press and myself, which give me more authority to speak in the matter than might belong to one whose name had not been so freely used, and it is my intention, while I endeavor to do myself justice, to make an effort to arrest the custom to which there is allusion; and which, should it continue to prevail, must render every American more or less subject to the views of those who are hostile to the prosperity, the character, and the power of his native land.
I am fully aware that every man must prepare himself to meet the narrowest constructions on his motives, when he assumes an office like this I have here undertaken; but I shall not complain, provided the opinion of the public receive a healthful impulse; while, at the same time, I shall not neglect the proper means to support my argument, by showing, as far as circumstances will permit, that I come to the discussion with clean hands. These constructions might have been obviated by having recourse to an anonymous publication, or by engaging some friendly pen to speak for me; but I have preferred the simpler, and, as I think, more manly course, of appearing in my own behalf. The nature of the proof I propose to offer, will compel me to mention myself oftener than I could wish, were not evidence of this nature less liable to be questioned, than that which comes from sources more indirect. I shall not {5} shrink from my intention, therefore, on this account, while there is a hope that good may come of it. In vindicating myself,it will be necessary to reply to many attacks, without always quoting the papers in which they have appeared, which would swell this letter to an unreasonable size, and that, too, on a part of the subject that I could wish to treat as briefly as possible; but the reader is assured, that nothing of a direct personal nature will be said, that has not its warranty in some obvious allusion, insinuation, or open charge, in some one of the many journals of this country. In three instances, (those of the New-York American, the New-York Courier & Enquirer, and the New-York Commercial Advertiser,) it is my intention to answer the statements separately; distinctly marking the points at issue between each journal and myself, as is due to all the parties concerned.
I shall now proceed to execute the purpose of this letter, as briefly as the circumstances will allow; again begging the reader to remember that every statement which relates especially to myself, is either in reply to some unequivocal allegation to the contrary that is to be found in the public prints, or has a direct reference to the practice which it is so desirable to destroy.
First, then, I will show, that I come to this discussion with clean hands. At no period of my life have I had any connection with any review, notice or critique of any sort, that has appeared for or against me as a writer. With a single, and a very immaterial exception, I do not know to this hour, who are the authors of any favorable notice, biography, or other commentary, that has appeared on myself, or on any thing I have published; and in the case of the exception, I was made acquainted with the name of the writer, after the notice was written. As respects Europe, so far from having used any undue means to procure reviews, criticisms, or puffs, I am ignorant of the names of the writers of every thing of this sort that {6} has appeared which has been in my favor; have probably not even read a dozen of these notices, with the exception of such as were to be found in the daily prints, since I have been absent; have refused numerous applications from the editors of periodicals, to send them critiques and copies of the books I had written; and, whenever it could be done, without obvious impropriety, have uniformly declined making the acquaintance of those who were known to be connected with what are called critical publications. In several instances, the very reviews which have made direct applications to me for favorable notices, have turned against me when it was understood that the request would not be complied with.1 In short, I affirm,that every report or asseveration that any review has been written in Europe, or any where else, by my connivance, or even with my knowledge, to produce an impression on the public mind; at home, or with any other view, is founded in error or in malice. For a short time, I was a voluntary contributor of a periodical, that was edited by an old messmate, (Col. Gardner, the present Deputy Postmaster-General,) and I think he will remember the fact, that, when he declared his intention to obtain a favorable notice of "The Pioneers," I objected to if on the ground of its being painful to me to see critiques of this kind in a publication with which I was connected, and that my objection prevailed.
I have been repeatedly and coarsely accused of writing for money, and exaggerated accounts of my receipts have been paraded before the public with views that it is not easy to mistake. That I have taken the just compensation of my labors, like other men, is true; nor do I see that he {7} who passes a year in the preparation of a work, is not just as much entitled to the fruits of his industry, as he who throws off his crude opinions to-day, with the strong probability that on the morrow circumstances will compel him to admit that he was mistaken. Of this accusation, it is not my intention to say much, for I feel it is conceding a sacred private right to say any thing; but as it has been frequently pressed into notice by my enemies, I will add, that I never asked nor received a dollar for any thing I have written, except for the tales and the letters on America; that I have always refused to sacrifice a principle to gain, though often urgently entreated to respect the prejudices of foreign nations, with this very view; and that all the reports of the sums I have been soliciting and obtaining in France, Germany, and other countries, are either wholly untrue, or extravagant and absurd exaggerations.
I have been accused of undue meddling with the affairs of other nations. On this head it will be necessary to answer more at length, as the accusation takes two forms; one which charges me with entering impertinently into a controversy with the French government, and the other resting on the political tendency of some of the tales.
As respects the first, I shall say but little here, for I hope to be able to give the history of that controversy in a form less perishable than this letter.
In 1828, after a residence of two years in Europe, and when there had been sufficient opportunity to observe the disfavor with which the American character is viewed by nearly all classes of Europeans, I published a work on this country, whose object was to repel some of the hostile opinions of the other hemisphere, and to turn the tables on those who, at that time, most derided and calumniated us. This work was necessarily statistical in some of its features. In 1831, or about a year after the late revolution in France, there appeared at Paris, in a publication called {7} La Revue Britannique, (the British Review, and this in France, be it remembered!) an article on the United States, which affected to prove that the cost of government in this country was greater than it was in France, or indeed in nearly every other country; and that a republic, in the nature of things, must be a more expensive form of government than a monarchy. This article, as has been stated, appeared in a review with a foreign title, at a moment when the French government professed great liberality, and just after the King of the French (taking the papers for authority) had spoken of the government of the United States as "the model government." There was no visible reason for believing that the French ministry had any connection with the review, and, although the fact might be and was suspected, the public had a perfect right, under all the laws of courtesy and usage, to assume exactly the contrary. In short, this dissertation of the Revue Britannique appeared, like any other similar dissertation, to be purely editorial, and it was clearly within the usual privileges of an author, whose positions it denied, as it denied those advanced in the work of mine just mentioned, to justify what he had already said. In addition to this peculiar privilege, I had that, in common with every citizen of the country whose facts were audaciously mutilated and perverted, of setting the world right in the affair, if I saw proper. Such a course was not forbidden by either the laws of France, any apparent connection between the review and the government, or the "reserve usually imposed on foreigners." I could cite fifty cases in which the natives of countries attacked have practised this right, from Baretti down to a countryman of our own, who has just exercised it in England. I did not exercise it. The article was pointed out to me; I was told that it was injuring the cause of free institutions; that it was depriving America of nearly the only merit Europe had hitherto conceded to her; and {9} that I might do well to answer it. After a time, Gen. Lafayette called my attention to the same subject, and, without at all adverting to any personal interest he had in its investigation, pressed me to reply. I respectfully but firmly declined. I had seen so much of the ignorance of Europe in relation to ourselves; understood so thoroughly the design and bad faith on which it was bottomed, and so well knew the hopelessness of correcting the evil, (for it is a great evil, so far as the feelings, character and interests of every American are concerned,) that I felt no disposition to undertake the task. In addition to these general motives, I had the particular one of private interest. The vindication of the country already published, had occasioned a heavy pecuniary loss; it had even lost me the favor of a large party at home. I had many demands on my limited means, and was unable to make further sacrifices of this nature, to any abstract notions of patriotism or of truth. It was some months after the appearance of the review, that I was told the principal object of the article in question. It was to injure Gen. Lafayette. He had been stating, for forty years, that the American government was the cheapest known, and should the misstatements and sophistry of the Revue Britannique go uncontradicted, he would stand convicted before the French people of gross ignorance or of wilful fraud -- or, to quote the language that was subsequently used by the Moniteur, of an "illusion or a lie." This fact presented the affair in an entirely new aspect. I determined to furnish the answer that was requested. Whatever may be the opinion of my countrymen on this point, it appeared to me that a man who stood in the relation which Gen. Lafayette occupied in respect to every American, ought not to be left to say that, when pressed upon hardest by his enemies, he had applied to a citizen of the country he had so faithfully served, and that, under the circumstances I have named, he had been denied what {10} is due to even a criminal -- the benefit of the truth. The "American" has lately insinuated that I am a "professed patriot." As I have never solicited nor received the usual rewards of professions of this nature, to me it seems that my conduct might have been referred to a simple and creditable sentiment of gratitude. Had I not been placed on the defensive, (so placed, I make no doubt, by designing men, who have felt my course to be a reproach to their own,) the world would never have been troubled with these details. The letter which I wrote on the matter in dispute, was given to Gen. Lafayette to secure my own self-approbation, and not to be made a merit of before the American people, of whom I never have, and do not now, ask more than a very negative justice. It was translated through the instrumentality of Gen. Lafayette, and, in this manner, it came before the French nation. I say it with regret, but I say it, with a deep conviction of its truth, that I believe this to be the only country in the world in which a citizen would be placed on trial, for having refuted gross and unquestionable misstatements of the fair action of its own system, without any reference to the peculiar character that was given to this controversy, by the appeal and situation of Gen. Lafayette.
My letter, and one of Gen. Bernard which accompanied it, produced replies, containing fresh misstatements, mingled with great scurrility on the character, habits, and pursuits of the people of the United States. It was now a duty that I owed to myself, to the truth, and to all concerned, to answer. I did so in a short series of letters that was, published in the "National." Throughout the whole discussion, care was had, on my part, to abstain from touching on the cost of government in France, though the comparison would have been perfectly justifiable, when the manner in which it was provoked is brought into the account. A few of my adversaries' contradictions were ridiculed, but with a slight exception of this sort, all I said had a strict reference to ourselves.
{11} The dates of this controversy have some connection with that which is to follow. My first letter bears date Nov. 25th, 1831, and the last May 3d, 1832. The controversy on my part, however, would have ended in the commencement of March, but for a circumstance it may be well to name. After the appearance of my original letter, M. François Delassert, the vice-president of the Chamber of Deputies, published a letter from Mr. Leavitt Harris, of New-Jersey, who took grounds the very reverse of my own, who denied most of my facts, and who wrote virtually on the side of the Revue Britannique. To this letter I replied on the 3d of May as stated; that I did not prolong the discussion unnecessarily will, I think, be admitted, when the reader remembers, that Mr. Harris is the gentleman who has since been appointed to fill the office of chargé d'affaires at the court of France.
Having briefly stated an outline of the facts, in reference to the controversy on the cost of government, I proceed to the political tendency of the book that appeared about the same time, and to the circumstances accompanying its publication, so far as they have any connection with France.
The work in question is called the Bravo. Its outline was imagined during a short residence at Venice, several months previously to the occurrence of the late French revolution. I had had abundant occasion to observe that the great political contest of the age was not, as is usually pretended, between the two antagonist principles of monarchy and democracy, but in reality between those who, under the shallow pretence of limiting power to the élite of society, were contending for exclusive advantages at the expense of the mass of their fellow-creatures. The monarchical principle, except as it is fraudulently maintained as a cover to the designs of the aristocrats, its greatest enemies, is virtually extinct in christendom; having been supplanted {12} by the combinations of those who affect to uphold it with a view to their own protection. Nicholas may still send a prince to the mines, but even Nicholas keeps not only his crown but his head, at the pleasure of the body of his aristocracy. This result is inevitable in an age when the nobles, no longer shut up in their holds and occupied in warring against each other, meet amicably together, and bring the weight of their united intelligence and common interests to bear upon the authority of the despot. The exceptions to such consequences arise only from brilliant and long continued military successes, great ignorance in the nobles themselves, or when the democratical principle has attained the ascendancy. With these views of what was enacting around me in Europe, and with the painful conviction that many of my own countrymen were influenced by the fallacy that nations could be governed by an irresponsible minority, without involving a train of nearly intolerable abuses, I determined to attempt a series of tales, in which American opinion should be brought to bear on European facts. With this design the Bravo was written, Venice being its scene, and her polity its subject.
I had it in view to exhibit the action of a narrow and exclusive system, by a simple and natural exposure of its influence on the familiar interests of life. The object was not to be attained by an essay, or a commentary, but by one of those popular pictures which find their way into every library; and which, whilst they have attractions for the feeblest intellects, are not often rejected by the strongest. The nature of the work limited the writer as to time and place, both of which, with their proper accessories, were to be so far respected as to preserve a verisimilitude to received facts, in,order that the illusion of the tale should not be destroyed. The moral was to be inferred from the events and it was to be enforced by the common sympathies of our nature. With these means, and under these {13} limitations, then, the object was to lay bare the wrongs that are endured by the weak, when power is the exclusive property of the strong; the tendency of all exclusion to heartlessness; the irresponsible and ruthless movement of an aristocracy; the manner in which the selfish and wicked profit by its facilities, and in which even the good become the passive instruments of its soulless power. In short, I had undertaken to give the reader some idea of the action of a government, which, to use the language of the book itself, had neither "the high personal responsibility that sometimes tempers despotism by the qualities of the chief; nor the human impulses of a popular rule."
In effecting such an object, and with the materials named, the government of Venice, strictly speaking, became the hero of the tale. Still it was necessary to have human agents. The required number were imagined, care being had to respect the customs and peculiarities of the age, and of the particular locality of the subject. Little need be said of the mere machinery of such a plan, as the offence, if offence there be, must exist in the main design. One of those ruthless state maxims which have been exposed by Comte Daru, in his history of Venice, furnished the leading idea of the minor plot, or the narrative. According to this maxim, the state was directed to use any fit subject, by playing on his natural affections, and by causing him to act as a spy, assassin, or other desperate agent of the government, under a promise of extending favors to some near relative who might happen to be within the grasp of the law. As the main object of the work was to show the manner in which institutions that are professedly created to prevent violence and wrongs, become themselves, when perverted from their legitimate destination, the fearful instruments of injustice, a better illustration could not have been wished, than was furnished by the application of this rule. A pious son assumes the character of a Bravo, in {14} the hope of obtaining the liberation of a father who had been falsely accused; and whilst the former is blasting his own character and hopes, under the delusion, and the latter is permitted to waste away his life in prison, forgotten, or only remembered as a means of working on the sensibilities of his child, the state itself, through agents whose feelings have become blunted by practice, is seen, forgetful of its solemn duties, intent alone on perpetuating its schemes of self-protection. This idea was enlarged upon in different ways. An honest fisherman is represented as struggling for the release of a grandson, who had been impressed for the galleys, while the dissolute descendant of one of the inquisitors, works his evil under favor of his rank. A noble, who claims an inheritance; an heiress; watermen; females of low condition, and servants, are shown as contributing in various ways to the policy of the soulless state. On every side there exist corruption and a ruthless action. That some of the faces of this picture were peculiar to the Venitian polity, and to an age different from our own, is true; this much was necessary to the illusion of the tale; but it was believed that there remained enough of that which is eternal, to supply the moral.
Such was the Bravo, in intention at least. I confess I see nothing in its design of which an American need be ashamed. I had not been cooped up in a ward of New-York, regarding things only on one side, and working myself into a fever on the subject of the imminent danger that impended over this great republic, by the machinations of a few "workingmen" dreaming of Agrarian laws, and meditating on the neglected excellencies of my own character and acquirements on the one hand, and on the unmerited promotion of some neighbor, who spelt constitution with a k on the other: but it had been my employment for years to visit nations, and to endeavor to glean some general inferences from the comparisons that naturally suggested {15} themselves. I knew that there existed at home a large party of doctrinaires, composed of men of very fair intentions, but of very limited means of observation, who fancied excellencies under other systems, much as the ultra-liberals of Europe, fancy perfection under our own; and, while I knew what I was doing was no more than one nail driven into an edifice that required a million, I thought it might be well enough to show the world that there was a writer among ourselves of some vogue in Europe, who believed that the American system was founded on just and durable principles. The book was thoroughly American, in all that belonged to it. The most grateful compliment I have ever received, was paid to me, unwittingly enough I believe, by a hostile English review, in reference to this very work. It said, in substance, that while Byron had seen in Venice, her palaces, her renown, and "England's glory" (!) the author of the Bravo had seen only her populace and her prisons. I take it this is just the difference that would be found, in such a case, between a right-thinking and a wrong-thinking man. Whether Lord Byron merited such a reproof, or not, I do not pretend to know -- but I was grateful for the compliment.
I believe no sane man will deny the right of an American to produce such a work as the Bravo, considered purely in reference to its plan. But some, who will admit this, may be disposed to say that a book of such a nature should not have been published in France, at that particular moment. The distinction taken by these thin-skinned moralists (most of whom are liberal enough to all who write in honor of exclusion2) rests on a subterfuge. Had the Bravo {16} been written and published among the mountains of Otsego, it would have been translated and republished at Paris, without any agency of mine. All that I had written, previously to arriving in Europe, was re-printed in this way; and the activity of the press is much too great at present, to leave any doubt on this head. I wrote in my own language, and had I caused an English edition to be printed at Paris, it would have been a sealed book to the French. There is no doubt that the tendency of the Bravo is directly opposed to the intentions of the French government party, and it has so been treated by writers of that country, both far and against; but it is by no means so clear that it is opposed to their professions. A stranger is bound to respect the laws and institutions of the country in which he may happen to be, but I do not know that he is obliged to dive into the secret and fraudulent intentions of its rulers. Be this be as it may, I stand acquitted of blame on any and all of these subtleties, for I did not cause the Bravo to be published in France at all. Even the sheets for the translation were obtained from another country, (I believe the work was actually translated in England,) and the re-prints in English which did appear, were surreptitious editions that an author without a copy-right could not prevent. I did not know of their existence until they had been before the world several weeks.
Such is the history of the intention and of the publication of the Bravo, so far as either is connected with the matter at issue. I do not know that its author had any great reason to be dissatisfied with its reception. The great {17} mass of readers viewed it simply as a picturesque sketch of scenes and incidents, and in this respect it seems to have had sufficient interest to become tolerably popular. The publisher of the translation told me, shortly after it appeared, that it fared better than most of the works from the same pen. There were a few, however, who were accustomed to separate principles from facts. Some of these closer readers detected the intention of the book, and they were not slow in pointing it out. Figaro without exception the wittiest journal in France, and one that was especially devoted to attacks on the juste milieu, contrary to its usual course, gave an especial article to the book, laying considerable stress on its political tendency. Praise from Figaro, on such a topic, almost inevitably drew censure from the other party, and from this time it became a fashion with a set to undervalue the work. I have a double purpose in dwelling on the reception of this book, and I hope the reader will overlook the weakness of an author, if I say a little more. There were several pictures from its scenes, at the French and English exhibitions of 1833; an opera has been written from it for the Académie de Musique,3 at Paris; another for the Italian opera, at the same place; and when in London, Mr. Kenny told me he was writing an English opera on the same subject, for Drury Lane. I believe there have also been several melo-dramas in different languages. The critical notices of the work as I am told, for my own knowledge on this head is very limited, have been rather favorable, than otherwise. One of them, in particular, was so flattering, that I shall introduce it nearly entire, hoping its brevity will be its excuse.
"These volumes, we think, will add to his (Mr. Cooper's) fame; for though there is some careless writing, some repetitions, the ef{18}fect of too much haste, and -- for a novel -- somewhat too much, perhaps, of political disquisition, there are touches of a master throughout. Of the females introduced, the gaoler's daughter is our heroine." [This, by the way, is a discovery, she being expressly called the heroine in the book!] "Her character is beautifully conceived and sustained; and the answer she gives to the venerable Carmelite, when he asks if she would not be afraid to plead before the Doge in behalf of her lover, is in the spirit, and worthy of the high-souled and conscientious Jeanie Deans. The fine old fisherman, Antonio, and the Bravo himself, are both strongly drawn. Venice is absolutely presented to the eye in the minute and picturesque descriptions of its canals, palaces, and squares; while its sports are admirably illustrated by the gorgeous ceremonial of the nuptials of the Adriatick, and the subsequent spirit-stirring race of the gondolas. But we are descanting on what all have read, or will read, and therefore forbear."
I had the more satisfaction in this short notice, because it bears on its face evidence of good faith, and because it appeared as editorial in the New-York American4 of December 3, 1831; a journal whose principal editor has justly obtained a respectable reputation for taste in literature.
As so much has been said of the Bravo, this would seem to be a proper place to introduce what I have to add, in reply to the three journals specifically named, as the subject is intimately connected with the history of that work. The American shall first occupy our attention. In answering this journal, I wish it to be understood that I decline all direct controversy with its correspondent who styles himself "Cassio." The tone of that person precludes him from the right to expect any reply, as a controversialist; and as a critic, I think the reader will agree with me, in believing that he is scarcely entitled to occupy our attention beyond the point which is necessary to prove my case.
{19} The true matter at issue, between the American and myself is, whether a certain notice of the Bravo, which appeared in that paper, was, what it professed to be, of American manufacture, or of foreign; and, if the former, how far I had affirmed that it was not. I will now give a short history of the transaction.
It was, I believe, near the close of June, 1832, that Mr. Morse, the well known artist, (whose name is used with his own consent,) directed my attention to a critique on the Bravo, in the columns of the New-York American, Mr. Morse had read this pretended criticism, and while he could not forbear laughing at its exaggeration, he appeared to be provoked that a respectable journal at home, should admit so senseless a tirade against an absent countryman; and one too, who had just been seriously engaged in defending the common character of our common country, and this under circumstances of gravity that were known to him, although they might not have been so well understood by others. I must say, that I think the indignation expressed by this gentleman was creditable to him, both as a man and as an American. The warmth of my friend, induced me to examine the article more closely than probably would have been done, had it fallen under my eye in the ordinary way. I gave it as my opinion, that this article was certainly written at Paris, (on its face it appeared, like any other communication, to have been written at home,) and that it most probably was a translation from the French, or had been written in English by some one who thought in the former language. Some of the reasons for this opinion shall be given. They are divided into those which depended on the disposition of the government party in France towards me, and on the internal evidence that existed in the article itself.
As respects the disposition of the government party towards myself, I had abundant proof. Figaro, the jour{20}nal which had so warmly extolled the Bravo, was soon after bought up by the government; it of course changed its tone, and among others I was openly assailed in it, by name. An individual, filing a high official station, and who I have always believed spoke from authority, assured me that the part I had taken in the Finance Controversy would not be soon, to use his own words, "forgotten nor forgiven." During this controversy, the Revue Britannique more than once manifested a desire to frighten me from the field, by displaying its critical power, sometimes flattering and sometimes squibbing, according to the tactics of the moment. That very publication had previously furnished unequivocal evidence of the sort of faith that controls its decisions, by a long article on myself, which professed to be a translation from an English periodical. In this pretended translation, whole sentences were omitted or interpolated, evidently to suit the political views of its editor. In addition to this, I was familiar with the audacity and indifference to truth, with which these matters are usually conducted in that quarter of the world.
The internal evidence on which I believed the critique in the American to be virtually French, was not trifling. That it came from France, was to me beyond dispute; it was unquestionably written in bad faith; it abounded in faults of idiom and of grammar; most of the little reasoning it pretended to, was peculiarly French; it had an involved and obscure style, like that which characterizes insincere writing, and it violated, in an essential point, a received usage of English composition.
That it came from France, was evident enough to me at a glance. The critique contains a fling at these words in the title-page of the book, viz: "The Bravo, a Venitian story." Now, the words, "A Venitian story," form no part of the true title of the work. They are an unauthorized interpolation of the European booksellers, and are {21} not to be found in the American, or the only authentic edition. Besides this fact, which was almost the first thing that caught my attention, the edition of M. Baudry, Paris, is quoted by name. This edition is spurious, and abounds with blunders, having been, in part, printed from uncorrected sheets, obtained from another country. With this proof, I could not hesitate to believe that the article was produced at Paris, as the alternative was to suppose that a writer at home had taken the bold measure of hunting up a spurious and foreign edition of an American book, in order to attack it through peculiarities that did not exist in the original. It has since been conceded that the communication was actually written at Paris, although its writer is said to be an American.
Under the circumstances of the case, when the fact was sufficiently established, that a critique on an American book, which appeared in an American journal, and as an American production, came in truth from a country where the writer of the work was openly assailed for party purposes, it created a strong presumption of foul play. But for this fact,I should have probably thrown the paper aside, consigning it to forgetfulness, along with a hundred more similar tirades that some of my countrymen have had the kindness to send to me, during my absence from home; or, at least, some who pretend to be my countrymen, although evidence is fast accumulating to show that a good many of them are foreigners, who have taken this, among other steps, to show their gratitude for the unusual liberality that is extended to them in this country. As the fact was at least curious, could it be proved, that the system of manufacturing ideas by which to judge our literature, was to be carried on by a foreign people, in this open manner, (that it had been done indirectly for a long time, I was fully aware,) I thought the matter merited an examination.
The style of the critique struck me, as having the {22} involution of another language, and the vagueness of insincere writing. Let its first two sentences speak for themselves. -- "We believe that, in conformity with all usage, it is the business of a critic to disclose to the world the merits or defects of authors; and, of consequence, his duty consists, ostensibly at least, in imparting information. Perhaps we shall forfeit all claim to the appellation (?) by commencing on a different plan, but even at that (anglice this) risk, we can adopt no other method of discussing the Bravo, than by first inquiring what it's all about? &c. &c. &c." -- 1 believe I may safely say, that the whole article is written in the same lively, perspicuous and logical manner, and with very much the same grammatical purity.
It abounds with faults of idiom and of grammar. The sentences just quoted, furnish proofs of what I say. To what does "appellation" properly refer? "That risk" should clearly have been "this risk," to be idiomatick, and the words contained between inverted commas, are a downright gallicism, or they are downright nonsense. "What it's all about?" as a mere quotation, is nonsense. Words might as well be quoted from a dictionary. The marks of quotation, therefore, must be intended to give the expression in a colloquial form; this is undeniably proved by their use in connection with the note of interrogation; and "what it's all about?" as a speech, means "what it is all about?" and this is very much as a Frenchman would be apt to ask the question. Any school-boy will see that it ought to have been written "what is't all about?" to be English. I have not cited these faults because they are the most obvious, but simply because the sentence was already before the reader, and because it was the first that offered. On this head it would be easy to write pages. "No whit superior," for instance, is some such English as if one should say "no bit taller." But I will quote one other sentence. "We cannot call them" (he {23} is speaking of a man and a woman) hero nor heroine, for they have no claim to the distinction. These two worthies, who have nothing on earth to recommend themselves," &c. &c. The fault of idiom, that of saying "recommend themselves" for "recommend them," struck me as an awkward translation of "se recommander." It is unnecessary to point out the confusion in the grammar.
The violation of a usage of our language is this. In English, under a fiction of a plurality of writers, it is permitted to say we, when the writer alludes to himself; but it becomes obviously absurd, when it is expressly stated that there is but one writer. The critique is signed "Cassio;" and yet his communication is written in the first person plural. We, as applied to Cassio, and the Cassio of Shakspeare too, is a palpable absurdity. Now there prevails among the French critics, a custom of annexing to their communications an initial, or even the name of the critic, and it struck me, on seeing the obvious fault just alluded to, that the translator, finding the usual name at the foot of his original, and knowing it would not do to publish if, had fancied he showed his knowledge of English, by supplying its place with that of one of Shakspeare's characters. These peculiarities might certainly have passed as slovenly composition under other circumstances, although a critic who is so vulnerable makes but an indifferent figure at fault-finding; but under those which I have named, they became additional evidence of the fact that was suspected.
The reasoning of the critique is French. It has a flavor Of the academic strut, very strangely mistyfied4a, it is true, by the manner in which it is presented. Thus, the writer thinks, or affects to think, that the leading idea of the work is taken from a drama called Abællino;4b and, on this point he thus expresses himself: "In our humble belief, no merit and no praise can belong to a work, which in its principal design, is borrowed from the labors of {24} another's pen." There is a saying of an author of approved wisdom which might have taught the correspondent of the American a little moderation on this head. Solomon tells us, "that the thing that hath been, is that which shall be, and that which is done, is that which shall be done; and there is no new thing under the sun." There is about as much resemblance in motive, in character, in incident, and in all other points that form the true distinctions in cases of this sort, between Abællino and Jacopo as there is between the Lord Mortimer of an old-fashioned novel, and Tom Jones; but this is not the point at issue. It has been admitted, that so much of the leading idea of the tale, as is connected with Jacopo, or the Bravo, is taken from the history of Monsieur Daru4c, and on this score there is no pretension to originality. Was I to think, however, after the examples of Milton, Shakspeare, Byron, Scott, and nearly every great name of the language, that a romance confessedly taken from a drama, or a drama from a romance, was in consequence to be hopelessly damned! There really appeared to me a temerity of assertion in this charge, that could not belong to any one familiar with the annals of English literature. I set it down as the opinion of a Frenchman, who knew just enough of English to find fault with Shakspeare, and to murder the language. I had no intention of commenting on the merits of Cassio as a critic, but as the editor of the American has claimed him for a favorite correspondent, I will give another touch of his quality, chiefly for the purpose of making use of the circumstance in proving the bad faith with which the article is written, although the occasion will be incidentally improved, in order to show the editor of the American what a figure his dwarf makes upon stilts.
It has been said that, in carrying out the principal design of the Bravo, a fisherman is introduced, soliciting the council for the release of his grandson from the galleys. {25} The object was to exhibit the self-styled republic setting at nought another of the holiest of human affections. In the case of the Bravo, it trifled with the piety of the child; in that of Antonio, it was defeating parental care; and all at the expense of the many, for the particular advantages of the few. This grandson, a boy of tender years, is mentioned merely from the necessity of the case. The critic thinks, however that he has detected an unpardonable sin, in the casual manner in which the lad is finally brought into the reader's presence. We will let him speak for himself. "There is a law with regard to romance," he says, unhappily without referring to the page of these critical pandects, "which forbids the introduction of the name, qualities and character of any person, who is not eventually introduced propria persona; and we learn the utility of the law by seeing it broken. The old fisherman, Antonio, has a grandson confined to the galleys" (he was pressed for the galleys) "and he makes it the business of his life5 to procure his liberation, To this end, he pleads with a member of the Council of Three," &c., &c., (the details are omitted as unnecessary,) "yet at the conclusion of all this, we find the following solitary reference to the subject:-- 'next to this characteristic equipage of the dead, walked a lad, whose brown cheek, half naked body, and dark roving eye, announced the grandson of the fisherman. Venice knew when to yield gracefully, and the boy was liberated, unconditionally, from the galleys; in pity, as it was whispered, for the untimely fate of the parent.' A line or two more informs (us) that he lived and died as other people do. It may be said, in reply to the commencement of this paragraph, that as the boy is actually introduced the rule is not infringed: In letter it is not, we admit, but it is in spirit. After half a {26} book has been taken up to prepare an appearance, such an appearance is virtually none at all, either to satisfy an established rule, or the readers expectations. We need not refer to rules to prove this an unpardonable fault."
All this parade about a rule, (whose very existence is a little equivocal) savors of the academy, and is essentially French. If this rule were authority, the story of the Ephesian matron, for instance, would make but a scurvy figure in a tale, since the dear poor man, whose sainted qualities would fill the widow's heart for more than half a book, could only be presented to the reader as a ghost; a violation of probabilities that would quite unsettle the philosophy of "ces quarantes qui ont l'esprit comme quatre."
It is as easy to teach certain capacities rules, as it is to teach a parrot to speak; but there seems to be the same difficulty in causing the first to know when to apply what they have learned, as there is in causing the bird to think. If there had been a preparation for an "appearance," there certainly should have been an "appearance;" but as the only "appearance" contemplated, was that of strong human affections, ruthlessly violated, the ingenuity of our critic is quite thrown away.
I beg the reader will hear my account of the matter. Antonio demands the restoration of his child, who had been pressed to serve the state, while the children of the senators were permitted to go free. His suffering and his virtues raise the popular sympathy, and he is murdered in cold blood to get rid of him. The mistake of the multitude imputes the crime to Jacopo, whom the council allows to be executed, in order to conceal its own agency in the fisherman's death. The boy is introduced, at his grandfather's obsequies, for the old man is buried with public honors, with a view to show the manner in which the state continued to deceive, and not to satisfy any critical canon; the object of all being to demonstrate the fearful tendency {27} of an irresponsible, soulless, arbitrary, political power. The whole of this reasoning of Cassio struck me as having the academic pretension of French criticism, in the hands of a bungler. As the editor of the American appears to take pride in the cleverness of his correspondent, however, I feel a particular desire to show him the beauty of the bantling to which he has so good-naturedly stood godfather. Let us imagine a suitable subject. The name of Solomon having been introduced already, in conjunction with that of his correspondent, luckily suggests the very one that is wanted. We will imagine a poet bent on working up the celebrated judgment of the king of Israel, into a tale of the usual size. He delineates the loves of the two mothers, their common delight in the birth of men-children, and the yearnings of maternal affection over these precious gifts. Jerusalem, with its temple, its historical associations, and its usages, are successfully portrayed.6 Then comes the appeal to the wise man of the earth for justice. The text is enriched with aphorisms from the lips of Solomon, with admirable touches of nature from the true mother, and with finely managed strokes of art from her who would deceive. The judgment follows, the whole concluding amid the wonder, the tears, and the admiration of the reader. It will be easy to fancy the writer of such a work in good humor with himself. Chance brings it, however, in the way of a certain person who is troubled with that most pernicious gift of providence, a whittling intellect. "Sir," suggests this exquisitely tempered mind, "your work has an unpardona{28}ble fault. 'There is a law of romance which forbids the introduction of the name, qualities, and character of any person, who is not eventually introduced propria persona.' You work upon our feelings, in relation to these babies, through two entire volumes, and conclude without making us sufficiently acquainted with either of them. I denounce the work. It is hopelessly damned." "You will remember, that the object was to portray maternal love; I had no occasion to do more than to represent the existence of one child, and the death of the other." "Sir, the rule." "Is not the wisdom of Solomon to your liking?" "The rule -- the rule -- the venerable, the sacred rule!" "You forget that, at least, one of the babies was dead." "You had the other. I do not know that even the dead might not have been brought to life, rather than violate so absolute a rule. At all events, you did nothing with the quick." "It was not possible to make a baby walk, talk, and act like a hero." "The rule, sir, the rule -- you might have carried forward the time eighteen or twenty years, permitting the child to grow into these capabilities. Sir, you are little better than an ass, having overlooked an imperative rule." "To the devil with you and your rule; so long as the reader laughs when I laugh, weeps when I weep, and feels the force of the moral I would inculcate, I care not a straw for either." "Very well, sir; we shall see. I am about to denounce your book, for a violation of this very rule." "Denounce and welcome; you will only prove your own folly, and the world will laugh at you for your pains." "Sir,you reckon without your host. I am by no means the man you take me for, but a favorite correspondent of the New-York American, whose editor is publicly pledged to cause all I write to be printed!"
As this affair of the "rule" is, I believe, the only serious attempt at ratiocination in the whole of "Cassio's" article, all the rest of it being modest assertions, whose value depends {29} very much on the value of Cassio himself, I have been tempted into this little digression, out of respect to the subject. The reader should not complain, for he is certainly better off than before, having now two judgments of Solomon's, instead of one.
It remains to be shown, that the article was written in bad faith. This fact is, in my opinion, sufficiently apparent in its general tone. The editor of the American, who is a gentleman and an educated man, or I certainly should not take this pains to convince him of his error, must, I think, admit it himself, when he comes seriously to examine the communication. His correspondent pretty plainly intimates, for instance, that if the author of the Bravo wishes to escape the contempt of his fellow-creatures, he must write no more such books. When I compared this with the operas, the pictures, the dramas, and the other notices of the book, that of the American in particular, was I so wrong in thinking that such exaggerated censure could not he honestly given? There is also a supererogatory sensibility to the honor of America, on the part of the critic, that was exceedingly to be distrusted. The honor of America, which had nothing at all to do with the matter, is ostentatiously pressed into notice; and as for Cassio, he tells us in so many words, that if, as he has no doubt will be the case, the papers come out in favor of the book, he, for one, is prepared to blush for his country.7 This asseveration of Cassio, by the way, is rather a pleasant commentary on the opinion of the American quoted.
But there is a circumstance which can leave no doubt on any reasonable mind, that the critique was written in bad faith. Its second paragraph contains these words:-- "We {30} have read the book as leisurely as novels require to be read, and yet, when the task is accomplished, we have forgotten the plot, we have forgotten the hero and heroine, we have even forgotten in what small portion of the work we were interested. We can recal, it is true, some "tracery" of a preface, which appears to be "any thing but to the purpose" -- an occasional redundancy of moon-light -- the name of Bravo -- a few Italian interjections and masks -- a few alarms -- a few races and a few fainting fits, interspersed with formidable essays on political economy, &c. &c." It will be seen that there is no slip of the pen. The word forgotten is three times deliberately and pretendingly used, so that there can be no defence of inadvertency. Apart from some little distrust on the subject of so much ultra forgetfulness, I confess that this solemn and ponderous asseveration, a good deal astonished me. He who had so effectually forgotten the plot, the hero and heroine, and even the small part that interested him in a novel, was, virtually, so much in the situation of him who never knew any thing about them, that it was not easy to see what more a critic had to say. Now the reader, should he think the result worth his time, on examining the whole communication, will find that all he says of those parts of the book, of which he admits he does retain some recollection, is contained in the paragraph just quoted; and that he goes on to show, to the end of his article, that he has NOT forgotten the plot, the hero and heroine, and the small parts of the book in which he was interested; for he does little else than slash away at them all, right and left, during two closely printed columns of the New-York American! As if this were not sufficient, our acute observer goes on to furnish as minute a detail of self-refutation as, probably, ever figured in the annals of bastard criticism. On looking over the quotation from his article, where he undertakes to reason, it will be seen he {31} says, that the cursory manner in which the grandson of the fisherman is presented to the reader, after so many previous allusions, is an unpardonable fault, in virtue of his "rule." Here, then, we have a critic, formally declaring that the plot of a novel is so worthless that he has forgotten it, and then, a few lines further on, damning it on account of the cursory manner in which one of its characters is introduced!
Language is mockery, or here is indubitable evidence that the correspondent of the American, either did not know, or did not care, what he said. I saw, in these facts, all the proof any man could desire, that the article was written in bad faith, and instead of believing that the Editor of the American would presume so boldly on the dulness of his readers, as to authorize the publication of this stuff, I thought at the time I first saw the critique, and said as much to the two gentlemen who were present, that it must have been admitted to the columns of his journal during his absence from town.
From internal evidence of this nature, and from much more of a similar character that might be adduced, particularly on the score of grammar and idiom, I gave it as my opinion to Mr. Morse, and the other gentleman present at the reading of the article; that this critique came from France, and that it was either a translation, or had been written by one who was not very conversant with the English language, and probably for the reasons I have named. This was but an opinion, nor could it, in the nature of things, convey any other impression to those who heard me. The second gentleman present, (I do not feel authorized to name him, far he is absent from the country,) took away the paper, declaring an intention to discover the truth, if possible. He thought, with Mr. Morse and myself, that if the agents of the French government had really carried their audacity so far, it was a fact worth knowing.
{32} A few days after the occurrence of the interview, I left France, taking no steps whatever to inquire into this affair. At Aix-la-Chapelle, in Germany, about a month after my departure from Paris, I received an ordinary letter of friendship from Mr. Morse. It told me, among other things, that Mr. -----, the gentleman already alluded to, had been as good as his word; that he had taken up the inquiry after the writer of the critique, with zeal; that he had ascertained the communication was certainly written at Paris, and that he had been promised the name of the writer. If he succeeded in getting the latter, it was to be sent to me. At Berne, other letters were received, that were silent on the subject. At Vevay, about two months after I had quitted France, I got a letter, which mentioned that Mr. ----- had been completely successful, and the name of the writer (a Frenchman) was given. It will be seen that there was no precipitation in this inquiry. The parties through whom the intelligence was communicated to me, were both men of sense and of high respectability, and the intelligence was given as a naked fact, without any sort of reservation. I did what I presume any other person would have done in a similar situation; I believed what I was so distinctly and unreservedly told, and I set the whole affair down as one, among a great many more transactions of the same character, that had come to my knowledge within the last ten years.
When I returned to Paris, both Mr. Morse and the friend who had communicated the critic's name, had gone to America. The latter I have not since seen. Occasionally, when the good faith of the French government party was under discussion, I mentioned the fact, (giving my authorities,) as a proof how low they descended in their hostility; and once, in a burlesque publication that was intended to rebut their calumnies on this country, I playfully alluded to their critical zeal. Here the matter rested, so {3} far as I was concerned, for several months. At the end of that time, I received another letter from Mr. Morse, in which the subject was again alluded to. He told me it was asserted in New-York, that the article in question was written in this city, by "an obscure clerk in a counting house;" he dwelt upon the malignancy of a party at home, who had constituted themselves my enemies;8 and, Mr. ----- being absent from America, he suggested the expediency of collecting proof on the spot, and of sending it home to refute this story. At the moment when this letter reached me, an article of the Commercial Advertiser had just attracted my serious attention. The article in the Commercial appeared to me (for reasons that shall be given in their place) to require some notice, while the story of the "obscure clerk" at New-York, did not. In answering the letter of Mr. Morse,8a however, I gave him full permission to make such use of all those parts of my letter that referred to either of the two journals, as he, on the spot, might deem expedient. As respects the article of the American, I told him, in brief, that I did not believe the report that it was written at New-York by the person in question, for there was abundant internal evidence that it came from France, a fact in which I could not easily be mistaken. I gave him to understand that I had "taken no particular pains" to investigate the affair since my return, but I had been informed, that the substance of the critique had been published in the Journal des Débats. In point of fact, I was told nearly this much by three different Americans; one saying he knew that certain parts existed in that journal; a second, that other parts were to be found in it; and a third giving the fact very much as I communicated it to Mr. Morse. I believed all this information, for there was {34} no reason to doubt it, and in the haste of rapid and familiar writing, I at first stated as much without reservation in my letter, but on perusing what I had written, I took care to insert the words "as I understand," in order to show that I went on the information of others. The letter is not in my possession, but I am strongly impressed it will be found that these words "as I understand" were interlined for want of space, a circumstance that will give them more point, as it will show that they mere written under a sense of responsibility. I very well remember to have taken great care not to say any thing as coming from myself, of which I was not morally certain. The letter has been printed, and speaks for itself. [See note A., end of pamphlet.] When a fact is first given, as imparted from others, all that is subsequently said about it, is necessarily qualified by that circumstance. After acquainting Mr. Morse with the character of the person whose name had been furnished by Mr. -----, and making a few general remarks suggested by the subject, I turned to the communication in the Commercial, which it is only necessary to read my letter to see I treated as much the most important affair of the two.
It is now said, that all the information I have received on the subject of the origin of the critique, as well as my own conjectures, is erroneous; the article in question being written by an American, who was at Paris. I have little to do with this fact. Mr. Morse has handsomely admitted that he made the communications which have been stated as coming from him, and I do not doubt, did circumstances permit it, the other gentlemen alluded to, would do the same thing. They are all absent from America. The reasons for my opinions have been freely given, and I feel certain that no man, who understands French and who reflects on all the circumstances, will consider them light. The Editor of the American has a just claim to have the {35} truth known, and I have taken some pains to state it, I hope clearly, though I honestly think he has put himself in a worse situation by avowing that "Cassio" was written by a known and esteemed correspondent, than he would have been left by my conjecture. Besides all this, I do not think that the fact that an American wrote the article, by any means clears it from the suspicions I have mentioned. Its bad faith is not changed by this circumstance, and as for Cassio himself, a witness who has forgotten so much that he remembers, and who remembers so much that he has forgotten, does not exactly stand before the public in the most favorable point of view.
In the warmth of the moment, the Editor of the American has permitted expressions to escape him that I think he will regret, when he looks more coolly at the affair. He says, in reference to me-- "This gentleman and his flourishing backer (Mr. Morse) ascribe unhesitatingly the critique to the fears ! and resentments ! of the French government, roused by the popularity of Mr. Cooper's democratic writings; and the prefacing friend (Mr. Morse) gives us," &c. &c. Now, the manner in which I am coupled with Mr. Morse, in the commencement of this paragraph, and the manner in which Mr. Morse is made to speak for himself in its close, would give the reader just reason to think I had said what is here imputed to me. All I say is, that "the Bravo is certainly no very flattering picture for the upstart aristocrats of the new regime, and that nothing is more natural than their desire to undervalue the book." I leave the reader to compare these words with the language just quoted from the American. I was answering a letter, and many of my remarks had a direct reference to what had been previously said by my correspondent, and it is possible there may be some obscurity in its phrases. My own impression was, that the critique was more owing to the Finance Controversy than to any other {36} cause, though I had abundant evidence that the substance of the Bravo itself was disagreeable to some of the new aristocracy. All that is said in the American of my "flouting" my Americanisms in the faces of foreigners, whose hospitality I had been enjoying, is unmerited; and all that is said, by contrast, of the deportment of the person who claims the honour of having written Cassio, will appear absurd to those who were in Paris during our common residence in that city. The circumstance that I believed the article to be written for political purposes, by no means justifies the language of the American in another point of view. Writers are employed, by political parties, generally, to assail their enemies, and to defend their friends; and it does not follow as a consequence of my impression, that I thought there was a meeting of the cabinet in order to decide that the communication should he sent to this country. I looked upon the whole affair much as I look upon one of the attacks of the American itself, against any one individual of the present government party at home, or as a thing to be done as a matter of course. I now quit the American, for the second of the journals named.
The Courier and Enquirer of June 15, 1833, has the following article on myself:
"Mr. James Fenimore Cooper. -- We perceive by a letter from this distinguished gentleman, published in some of our newspapers, that his efforts to correct the misrepresentations of the Doctrinaires in Paris, on the subject of American taxation, has given great dissatisfaction in that quarter. It would seem, according to his statement, that in order to revenge themselves for having been proved to be in the wrong, they have attacked him at a point where every author is most sensitive as well as vulnerable in his writings. Severe criticisms have subsequently appeared in the Journal des Debats and other organs of that party, (l)which Mr. Cooper ascribes to a feeling of political hostility, originating in the part he has taken in vindication of his country, whose Public Press he thinks ought to sustain him at this crisis, although it will be recollected he lately took occasion to set it at defiance, and express his contempt for its opinions. (2)He appears, however, to be most {37} touched by a keen and severe criticism on the Bravo which made its appearance some year or two since, in the columns of the New-York American, and which, (3)if we are not mistaken, was antecedent to the circumstances supposed to have produced the hostility of the Doctrinaires. (4)He is mortified that any of his countrymen should "appear" to have turned against him, and states several facts which in his opinion go to prove that the criticism in the American was not written "by an obscure clerk in a counting house." as he terms him, but by a Frenchman in Paris, and is a mere translation of an article published in the Journal des Debats, "a little altered to adapt it to the American reader."
We leave this question to be settled between Mr. Cooper and the writer who furnished the article for the American, (5)and proceed to offer a few remarks on the insinuation thrown out by the former regarding the indisposition of his countrymen to sustain his literary reputation against the hostility of the Doctrinaires, which he has provoked by attempting their defence. When a citizen of the United States goes to reside in a foreign country he places himself under the protection of its government and laws, to both of which he owes respect and obedience so long as he chooses to stay. If he don't like them, he should not make public his disgust; and if he wishes for the satisfaction of railing, he had better go home, and indulge his inclination there, In short, he has no business to meddle in politics.
(6)But it is quite a different case, when the character of his country is assailed; its manners ridiculed, its morals and religion questioned, and its institutions exhibited in a contemptuous contrast with those of any other nation. He is then, we think, bound by every motive of patriotism, every duty of a citizen, to vindicate his country to the utmost extent of his power with his pen, as a soldier does with his sword. In this latter predicament was Mr. Cooper placed; his country was represented as taxed with burdens heavier than those borne by France and he was, we think, not only right in refuting the calumny, but he would have been emphatically wanting in dutY to his country had he neglected the task. We think his country ought to be, and have no doubt she is, grateful for his good offices.
In our opinion he does great injustice to the people of the United States, in supposing them indifferent to, or inclined to detract from his reputation as a writer; or that they, or any portion of them,9 have, as he asserts, joined in a conspiracy with his enemies in France. He is still one of the most popular writers of our country, which has done its part liberally in contributing to his fortune as well as his fame. If some of his later works have failed in supporting the reputation of the former ones, this is a misfortune which often befalls men of the greatest genius. They cannot forever be quaffing at the fount of inspiration, nor does it always exhilarate alike. Nei{38}ther does the public always judge alike. Its taste is perpetually altering, and mankind at length become tired of an old author, as voluptuaries do of an old mistress, whom they forsake for a new one, perhaps in reality not half so attractive. (7)But why should Cooper suppose that an unfavorable criticism on a work, which did not peculiarly address itself to the feelings of his countrymen, is evidence of their indifference or hostility? If critics are in general so corrupt, as he insinuates, why should he appeal to his country and to the world against a criticism? To our mind it would be much more dignified to treat all comments coming from such impure sources, with at least the affectation of indifference, and whatever he may feel, keep his feelings to himself. He has acquired a brilliant, and probably a lasting reputation; he can spare a leaf, without spoiling the wreath entwined round his brow.
(8)He should remember, that when an American writer goes abroad to reap laurels, on a wider field, and a richer soil, though he may possess many advantages over such as remain in the obscurity of home, yet these are counterbalanced, by weights in the other scale. If he can only establish a reputation in any part of Europe, there will be little question of his talents here; they will be taken in a great degree on trust, as merchants receive their goods, on the faith of the invoice. But on the other hand, it will be necessary to lose his identity as a citizen of this obnoxious republic; to pay due deference to the claims of the well born, and yield prompt obedience to the long established rights of European superiority; to flatter their prejudices with indirect adroitness, and to avoid giving offence by retorting sarcasms, or refuting calumnies on his country; its institutions and character. In short, he must endeavour to speak, and if he writes to write, in such a decorous manner, that the most expert critic shall not be able to detect a single sentiment of affection or preference for the land of his birth. He may then possibly be pardoned the misfortune of having been born on this side of the Atlantic, and be hailed as a giant, for having attained the size of a man among a nation of pygmies!
But after all it is impossible to please every body, unless a man has the good fortune to have no opinions of his own. You cannot serve two masters; and it is the height of presumption to expect to retain possession, even if we should conquer, two worlds at a time. In the present war of interests and opinions, when those in high places abroad, perceive in the example and influence of the GREAT REPUBLIC, the sources of imminent danger to their long established authority, it is to be expected that misrepresentations of every kind will be resorted to, for the purpose of weakening the force of that example. We hold it the duty of every American to do his best to refute and retort such manifestations of hostility, for, to use the strong words of an American writer, "we never yet saw an instance of a man or a nation, that gained aught but contempt by submission, or that did not thus invite a repetition of insult and injury." By pursuing a manly course of resistance to the injustice of foreign writers, an American must necessarily lose his popularity among that class of critics which in some measure directs, or at least indicates the {39} taste of the aristocracy of Europe. (9)Hence it is that writers must either suppress all expressions of partiality to their country and its government, or they will, like Mr. Cooper, become the object of frequent hostility. He must make his choice, and when made, submit with dignity to the sacrifice, with the assurance that a time will come, when in all probability the number of his American readers will far exceed those of France and England combined. This is a sufficient remuneration, and with this we think he ought to be satisfied.
Assuredly Mr. Cooper has nothing to complain of, in regard to the return made by his countrymen, and indeed by the world at large, for the amusement he has afforded them in his writings. Let him compare his situation with that of Homer, Milton, Dryden, Otway, Fielding, Le Sage, Cervantes -- the inimitable Cervantes! -- the immortal labours of whose whole lives were insufficient to keep the wolf from the door. Let him remember the fate of these illustrious writers, and thank God for all his mercies."
I notice this article, although it appears as editorial; under the impression that it is not what it seems. It abounds in errors and misconstructions, some of which are of a nature almost to raise the suspicion that the finger of Cassio was concerned in producing them. It was especially sent to me (in duplicate) at Paris, along with the statement of the American and its correspondent Cassio, and I presume I am at least right in considering it as coming from the enemy. I have caused parts of this article to be italicised and numbered, for the convenience of reference. Let us commence with No. 1. Here is a great error. I have never meant to say that the Press of this country ought to sustain me at this crisis, [what crisis?] nor do I know that I have ever set it at defiance, or expressed any especial contempt for its opinions. My letter is there to answer for the first assertion. I do not think it contains a word to justify it. As for the second, I ask when and where I have set the press of this country at defiance? The press of this country is, like the men who control it, composed of good, bad, and indifferent, and any general character would be liable to great qualification.
No. 2. I certainly do not think I seem (the allusion is to my published letter) to be most touched by a keen and {40} severe criticism on the Bravo The criticism on the Bravo, as a criticism, never excited any feeling in me, nor did I ever express any in reference to it, beyond that which no intelligent man will need an interpreter to understand. Its importance was derived from its supposed origin. In the parts of my letter to Mr. Morse that are published, some feeling, I admit, is betrayed in reference to the article in the Commercial, which excited a strong indignation, for I believed it to be the offspring of a piece of pitiful jesuitism and double-dealing. I believe so still. A simple, arithmetical process will prove that it was this article, and not the puerile attack of the American's correspondent,that I deemed the most important. My remarks on the critique in the American, besides being necessary as an answer to the letter of Mr. Morse, and being much less strong than those on the Commercial, fill just forty-eight printed lines of a newspaper, while those on the Commercial fill one hundred and sixty-five. There is, I think, a misprint in my letter, where it is said that Mr. Morse had alluded previously to the attack in the Commercial. He had certainly made no such allusion, and all I say on this part of the subject is said at my own suggestion. This assertion of the Courier and Enquirer appears to me to be made to press the critique of Cassio into an importance I never gave it.
No. 3. This is another mistake. The critique of the American appeared June 7th, 1832, and my letter to Gen. Lafayette bears date November 25, 1831; leaving an interval of six months between them There was even time to have sent an article from Paris after my last letter, (that to Mr. Harris, published May 3, 1832,) and to get it inserted in the American of June 7th.
No. 4. I am unconscious of having expressed any such mortification, nor can I find the word "appear," as here used, in any part of my letter. So far from calling the {41} writer Of the critique "an obscure clerk in a counting house," I expressly tell Mr. Morse that I do not believe the story to that effect, which he had sent me. This assertion is calculated to create an impression that I estimate the intellectual value of a man according to his social position. On this point I can only say, that any such opinion is opposed to the practice of a whole life.
No. 5. I cannot find any thing in my letter to justify this. I have complained that the Press did not support me in the Finance Controversy, in which I thought the honor of the country concerned, but I cannot recal any complaint of a want of support merely as a writer.
No. 6. I lay claim to no such patriotism, nor do I at all think it was the "duty" of an American to refute the allegations of M. Saulnier, apart from what he owed to General Lafayette. He might do it, or he might not, as he saw proper. If such a duty had in truth existed, of all the men in America, I was perhaps the one on whom it was the least imperative. I had already made a heavy sacrifice to support the character of this country abroad, and the effort had been so indifferently requited at home, that I should have thought myself fairly exempt from any further service of the sort.
No. 7. All this, and indeed most that goes before it in the same paragraph, certainly is not justified by any thing I had said. It ascribes a meaning to me, I think, quite without authority. I am not complaining of criticism, but of the Press lending itself to the views of our enemies. This is so obvious on the face of my letter, that I confess this portion of the article of the Courier and Enquirer, struck me as being expressly designed to give undue importance to the critique of the American.
No. 8. I never went abroad "to reap laurels on a wider field," nor did my presence in Europe in the slightest degree extend any little reputation I may possess as a writer, {42} or add a dollar to my means. What I wrote was just as much before the European public before I quitted home, as it is now, and instead of making friends abroad to puff and sustain me, I made enemies, as will presently be shown, by refusing to submit to the practices of those who call themselves critics. All that the Courier says on this head, therefore, is uttered under an erroneous impression, and is in no degree warranted by the facts.
No. 9. There is a singular misconception of the circumstances in this paragraph. My choice was made; it was in favor of my own country, her character and her institutions; and my complaint was not that foreigners abused me, but that those in whose favor this choice had been made, helped to circulate their abuse.
I could say a great deal more concerning this article of the Courier and Enquirer, but I presume enough has been shown to make it appear that it has not been written with sufficient attention to the facts of the case. I shall advert to only two more of its statements. My country is said to have advanced my fortune and my fame. The last is a word of pregnant signification, and is not to be used lightly. We have seen already the embarrassment into which the American has got, by flinging about this term too liberally. But putting the degree out of the question, the truth of this remark of the journal must depend on a principle that is general. If I owe reputation to my country, I owe gratitude; and if I owe both, other Americans are in the same predicament. Under what a load of obligation to their country, for instance, such men as Washington, Franklin, and Jay, particularly the latter, must have lived and died if this novel doctrine of the Courier and Enquirer should happen to be true!
But I have more interest in settling the point of fortune. It is bad enough to have obligations of this sort thrown into one's face when they are true, but it becomes a little {43} hard to be borne when there is no foundation whatever for the pretension. I cannot suppose that the journal means to be understood that I am indebted to those who may have bought any books I have written. So far from this being true, some of the latter are still indebted to me, and this too without much hope of payment. I presume a literary man does not intend to degrade literature, and yet it would be just as true to tell the grocer at his nearest corner, that the fortune he is making by his industry and judgment, is due to the liberality of the public, as it is to tell a writer that he is indebted to the public for the money that is paid him by his publisher. The public buys to please itself and not to confer favors on authors; and, could the experiment be tried, I will answer for it, that were any popular book of a native writer to be pirated and sold at half price, it would be found that the rogue disposed of two copies to the honest dealer's one.10 I am led to think that the writer of this article was under a mistake that I am afraid is sufficiently general, and which I hope now to be able to remove.
Since my return home, applications have been made to me to know the amount of the salary and of the emoluments of the consulate of Lyons, of which I was certainly the incumbent for a year or two. I have also understood, from a member of Congress, that there was an impression {43} I had a salary from the government; and, in a pretended sketch of my life, that appeared lately in one of the papers, and in which, I think, thirteen alleged facts had just three truths, I am said to have filled the office of chargé d'affaires at Paris, a situation that would have given me $4500 outfit, and as much of yearly salary. No part of all this is true. Mr. Clay (I wish it to be understood that this letter is written without the slightest view to party, for I shall never voluntarily lower myself from the condition of a freeman to become the mere political partizan of any man) very kindly acceded to my request of making me a consul, with a view that, while travelling, I might not have the air of expatriating myself. Lyons was chosen simply because there was nothing to do. This office cost me just one hundred dollars in outfit,and returned to me just nothing. After a little time I resigned the nominal situation, under the conviction that gross abuses exist in a great deal that relates to our foreign appointments, abuses that I still hope to expose, and because I felt it was incumbent on me to set an example of the principles I professed.
This consulate was of no other use to me than that I have named. It gave neither money, social rank, nor personal consideration, and I claim no merit for the moderation of my views. As to the office of chargé d'affaires, I do not see how the mistake could well have arisen. It is a situation I certainly could not have taken for many reasons; for which I never in any manner applied; nor in any way desired. It is possible that the writer of the article in question, in the ardor of his patriotism, has supposed that the interest I manifested in the Finance Controversy may have been quickened by a fat salary. This opinion was not unnatural, for the secretary of state had made an appeal to all the governors to produce their statements to show, in defence of the action of free institutions, that our side of the question was right. With {45} these views of the case, he has probably fallen into an error from some confusion`in the facts. The office of chargé d'affaires was conferred on a gentleman who certainly had a part in the Finance Controversy; but, his opinions being directly opposed to those of General Lafayette and myself, he happened to take the opposite side of the question. As between me and my country, the account current of both profit and honor exhibits a blank sheet. I have never laid any claim to having conferred either, and I do·not feel disposed to admit that I have received either. This is a subject on which I could gladly have been silent, but as it has been pressed into notice, it is due to myself to state the truth. The private feelings and interests of an individual can be of no great moment to the public, and I shall say no mere, unless it be to add, that there is a facetiousness in the opinion of the journal on the subject of the "honor" I have received from my countrymen, that touches on mockery.
I come now to the article of the Commercial Advertiser. [See note B., end of pamphlet.] It consists of an extract from the Revue Encyclopé6dique on the Heidenmauer; of some joint comments of the editor of the journal, and of a correspondent, touching the impropriety of foreigners meddling with the politics of France; and an assertion, that France would not have abused us had certain of our countrymen not meddled with her private affairs. The allusions were obviously intended for me. Apart from a good deal of puerility in believing it any justification for vituperating a whole people, that one or two of its citizens had misbehaved, this article is written jesuitically as to manner, illogically as to its reasoning, and erroneously as to its facts. The history of the manner in which I entered into the discussion on the cost on governments has been given; and the reader is left to judge for himself how far I obtruded my opinions on a foreign peo{46}ple. If it be meant that I meddled privately with foreign politics it is a mistake, and all reports to the contrary are untrue. Whenever there was a question of bringing the example of America to bear upon the rest of the world, it was my wish that it should be done with truth, and as I strongly condemned the course taken by too many of our countrymen abroad, who defend our own system as the one best adapted to our immediate situation, when appealed to on this head, and on proper occasions, it was my habit to defend it on principle. I had early learned the use that was made by any concessions on this topic, and I determined that if any man quoted me against the action of free governments, he should quote me wrongfully. Even this has been done, so eager are the aristocrats to snatch any thing like a concession from an American; but against such a fraud no human foresight can guard.
The letter to Mr. Morse was written chiefly to draw the attention of the public to particular facts. I believed then, and I believe still, that the article of the Commercial had its rise in the apprehensions of an agent of the United States, who felt that if I was right in the affair of the Finance Discussion, he had been very wrong; and who was desirous of forestalling public opinion, with a view to weaken the effect of any statement of the facts I might hereafter make. Added to this, was a wish on my part to check the degrading practice of quoting from the foreign journals to which there has so often been allusion. I had little interest in the result, for the letter to Mr. Morse, a great part of which has not been published, acquainted that gentleman with a resolution, that had long been made, of abandoning the pursuits of a writer, (a resolution that he well knew had not been lightly formed;) and that I only waited to comply with existing engagements to bring the tales to an end. This has been done, the last book of the series having been published. I did not go through the form of taking {47} leave of the reader, for I had never known any other public than my own country, and I fully believe the editor of the American when he says, that I have been losing its favor since I went abroad. Under such circumstances, a leave-taking would have been mockery, and I only allude to the facts now, as a witness releases his rights in a contested claim, or to purge myself from the imputation of having an interest in the result. I wish what I am about to say, not to be lost, but that it may serve those who come after me. I do not think this is a country in which any man can yet hope to be sustained as a writer, should he decide to take part frankly with the institutions and character of his country; the feelings of those who control public sentiment on subjects of this nature, are opposed to his success;11 but should any young aspirant for literary reputation believe otherwise, I am willing to make an effort to afford him fair play. This opinion will probably surprise many of my readers, for there is a superabundance of patriotic profession; but let any discerning man look closely at the facts, and I believe he will come to my way of thinking.
The editor of the Commercial appears to have had some misgivings himself, as to the propriety of the course he was taking. He says that the review (la Revue Encyclopédique,) was sent to him along with a letter from a correspondent; and when a foreign publication is thus introduced, the public has a right to believe that the "correspondent" is a correspondent abroad; and this the more especially when the allusion is made in a journal that is constantly flourishing its foreign correspondents before its readers.
I am now told that the article was concocted in this city, between the editor and a young man who was never out of his native country, to whom I was a perfect stranger, and who could know nothing of my private course abroad, except from the dangerous and uncertain evidence of vulgar rumour. I neither know nor care whether this report be true or false; I have been openly assailed; my discretion has been impugned; my conduct misrepresented, and the right to defend myself will not be denied. However direct may have been the agency of the diplomatic functionary alluded to, I have no doubt that his representations are at the bottom of the whole affair. As to this young man, if he prove not a man of straw, he will not be the first who has believed that he played the organ when he was only blowing the bellows. I repeat, then, it is my opinion that the said diplomatic agent is at the bottom of the whole affair. I thought I could detect even his style in the language of the Commercial's correspondent; but if I was mistaken in this particular, then there are two persons who make such a parade of prepositions as "to, at and for," instead of one. At a future day, when better prepared, I shall speak more openly on this point. The editor of the Commercial himself appears to have distrusted the propriety of what he was doing, for he places its justification on his "knowledge of the fact that Mr. Cooper prefers the censure, to the praise, of the newspaper press. Of this peculiarity of his taste he has taken care to inform us in the preface to the Heidenmauer, in which he says in so many words -- 'Each hour, as life advances, am I made to see how capricious and vulgar is the immortality conferred by a newspaper.'" Now this sentence is made the apology of the editor of the Commercial for admitting into his columns an attack against the interests and, character of an absent countryman; under cover of an article that was written by he knew not whom; which article contained a direct contra(49}diction of itself to prove its worthlessness; which appeared in a periodical of little reputation, and which derived all its influence here, from a degrading practice which this editor did not hesitate to aid in upholding, in order to gratify his resentments. I now propose to furnish proof of the consistency and sincerity of the editor of the Commercial Advertiser.
First as to the application of the sentence from the preface of the Heidenmauer. I was giving an account of a journey which took me to the scene of the tale. The route led across the country which had just been traversed by the Prince of Orange in his celebrated march upon Brussels; a march which had so nearly effected a counter-revolution in Belgium. The journals were teaming with denunciations of the Dutch for their excesses, and the Prince of Orange was unhesitatingly consigned to lasting infamy, for the cruelties, conflagrations, and other outrages that he had permitted or ordered. These facts were subjects of public notoriety. On passing over the scene of this pretended violence, a few days after it was stated to have occurred, I looked in vain for the evidences of its truth. The remark, which the editor of the Commercial deems a justification of his course, was elicited by these facts. The word vulgar is used in its broad and true signification, and, in the sentence in which it was used, it meant commonplace or liable to popular error; but in the Commercial it is put in italics, as if its editor attached some such meaning to it, as would be bandied between two cobbler's wives that were disputing about the gentility of their respective coteries. This is a simple statement of the facts. I beg the reader to give a moment to their application.
In the New-York Commercial Advertiser, of June 17, 1833, among a good deal more to the same effect, I find these words: "The precipitate manner in which many conductors of papers condemn men and measures, upon {50} slight evidence, is one of the prevailing evils or rather sins of this country. The conductors of public papers occupy a very responsible situation in society; many of them are men of talents; but party spirit has so far perverted the proper use of the press, that it has been seriously questioned by sensible men, whether, on the whole, the press serves most to enlighten public opinion with truth, or to pervert it with error." The letter of which this extract is a part, is signed N. Webster; a gentleman of great experience, who was once, I believe, editor of what is now the Commercial Advertiser, himself, and who probably understood very well what he was saying. This letter was doubtless, on the principle which justified the attack on me, introduced into the Commercial in order to furnish a justification of an attack against Dr. Webster's dictionary, or a reproof for his holding sound American opinions when he was in Europe; as, I am happy to say, is understood to have been the case: -- no such thing: it is introduced by a merited eulogium on the venerable lexicographer, to whose especial benefit a whole column of the Commercial is devoted! It would offend the reader's common sense to say any more.
There seems to be an opinion prevalent among some of the editors of this country, that they who conduct the public press, are invested with peculiar privileges. The press is either a powerful instrument of good, or a terrible engine of evil. They who control it, do not possess a single right that is not equally the property of every one of their fellow-citizens; while, in place of these imaginary immunities, they exercise the self-assumed office under a moral responsibility that should cause every man of principle to hesitate before he undertakes duties so grave. A grosser abuse of accidental circumstances cannot be imagined, than that of a man of envious and malignant temperament, pouring out the workings of an evil spirit, {51} under favour of these extraordinary means of publicity, carrying pain into the bosoms of families, making his crude opinions the arbiters of reputation, and pulling down, without the talent to build up again. The misconception on the subject of these imaginary privileges, has arisen from the fact that arbitrary governments, aware of the influence of the journals, having curtailed even the power to do good, and free governments having restored to them this unquestionable right, some, who identify their own selfishness too closely with principles which ought to be sacred, have fancied that the emancipation from a wrong has brought with it a charter for licentiousness.
All that is believed to be necessary, has now been said in reply to the three journals particularly named, and I shall beg the reader to have patience, while I furnish some evidence of the quality of the mental aliment that is daily served out to the American public, by the practice of copying the opinions of foreigners. I shall be obliged to speak continually of myself, for the reasons already given; but, I trust, the apparent egotism will be pardoned, when it is remembered that in no other way could I command the same materials, or furnish evidence so little liable to error. The object is to let my countrymen into some of the secrets of the critical fraternity, at the same time that I show the danger of doing injustice by circulating calumnies of unknown origin, and lay bare the united ignorance and impudence of those abroad who affect to speak of us, as the greater experience of the old world would appear to entitle the sages of the east to treat the tyros of the west. In order to effect such a purpose, I shall cull, from a large mass of information that I possess, a set of facts, that may change the evidence in a way to meet most of the varieties of the abuse to which, from the practice named, we render ourselves liable.
{52} It was in the autumn of 1830), that I first saw, in on American journal, a short article on myself extracted from an English publication, which was particularly intended to wound my feelings and those of my family, and which was calculated to give the world a very erroneous opinion of, at least, one trait in my private character.
I had become the object of particular resentment to a certain portion of the English, from the circumstance of having written a statement of the causes of the hostility and prejudices which so generally exist in their country against our own. This resentment was greatly increased by the fact that the book I had written was translated into different languages, and circulated throughout Europe. Hitherto they had told their own story; but an American had now joined issue with them, and, for a novelty, had obtained a hearing at the bar of Europe. I was vituperated in England -- a country whose reputation for this species of warfare is pretty well established -- as a matter of course; for this I was prepared, having well weighed the matter beforehand; but here I had the pain of seeing an American journal stooping to become the instrument of English ribaldry against an: absent countryman, who neither merited this particular act of injustice, nor any personal attack from the press of his own people. It may be well to examine the authority of this injurious tale, in order that the compliance of our own journalist may stand out in proper relief.
I regret that a long search has not enabled me to find the paragraph in question. It had been quoted into the ----- from an English journal, which had found it in a posthumous publication of the late Mr. William Hazlett, a writer whose reputation may teach caution to those who are addicted to indiscriminate deference for foreigners. But although it is not in my power to quote its words, I retain a very distinct recollection of its substance. It says that while Sir Walter Scott came to the reading rooms of the Messrs, Gagliniani,11a sitting down modestly in the outer room, I was in the habit of running about the streets of Paris (!!) and, furthermore, that in society I was in the practice of getting into corners and making faces, as if I would invite the company to admire the American Walter Scott.11b Puerile as all this may appear, in substance, Mr. William Hazlett did not hesitate to write it, his successors to print it, and the American journal in question to utter it to this country. It is evident on its face, that the writer himself had no very distinct idea of the nature of my sins, so far as they were connected with the shop of the Messrs. Gagliniani and the streets. Mr. Cooper running about the streets of Paris, and Sir Walter Scott taking his seat in the outer room at Gagliniani's, present no very striking images of criminality.
It is sufficiently plain that Mr. Hazlett, who was an utter stranger to me, had been charged with stories to my prejudice; and, probably feeling well disposed as an Englishman to resent the hardihood of an American who had presumed to tell the world a few naked truths on the points at issue between the countries, he gave vent to his animosity without making a particular draft on his logic. I could not desire a better proof of what I now wish to impress on my countrymen, than is to be found in this very paragraph. Here is a European writer of some eminence, permitting prejudice to escape him in a form to betray itself, and this too without the smallest qualification of common sense. What had my running about the streets of Paris to do with Sir Walter Scott's sitting down in the outer room at Gagliniani's, or vice versa? I think I can explain this matter to the reader. The Messrs. Gagliniani had reprinted in the original, from sheets obtained in England, all my tales up to the time of my arrival at Paris. It was then necessary that I should take the {54} charge of my own works, to secure my right at home; and I had an interview with one of the Messrs. Gagliniani on the subject. I was twice at their establishment. The first time, when nothing was determined or indeed proposed, I sat down too in the outer room, being fatigued; and when I was rested, I went away, without in the least suspecting I had done any thing particularly condescending. The second visit was made a short time afterwards, accompanied by a European friend. The interview took place in a garden, and I was treated with so much superciliousness, that my stay was short. The gentleman with me expressed strong indignation at the manners of Mr. Gagliniani, and observed that, in my place, he would have nothing more to do with him. This advice was exactly in conformity with my own feelings, and I have never entered the building of the Messrs. Gagliniani from that hour to this. A respectable bookseller assured me a few months after this occurrence, that he had heard Mr. Gagliniani threaten to injure the sale of my books, and to do me all the harm he could, a threat, I believe he was very capable of executing, so far as his means would allow, This man has probably repeated some of his tales to Mr. Hazlett, who, yielding to a prejudice, has so far forgotten himself as to record them in the puerile manner in which they appear; and an American journal does not hesitate to circulate what has thus been written by a foreigner! I will furnish one proof of the weight that ought to be attached to these loose opinions of the Messrs. Gagliniani. When Mr. Horatio Greenough and Mr. Morse came up from Italy to Paris, in 1831, they went to the Gagliniani's in order to obtain my address. On asking for me, as friends, they were led to believe that I was an habitué of the rooms, and an intimate there! As to my making faces in society, and standing in the corner -- heaven save the mark! I never saw Mr. Hazlett but once; and never {55} exchanged a syllable with him in my life. At one of the public evenings of Gen. Lafayette, I observed that the latter had been conversing with a stranger, who had the air of a student, and, as I thought, of an American. Believing it might be some one that I should be glad to know, I approached our illustrious host and asked if the conjecture was right. He told me that I was mistaken; that the stranger was Mr. Hazlett, offering to introduce me if I wished to make his acquaintance. I declined the introduction in conformity with the rule already named, and from which I have never voluntarily departed. There was not so much reason, moreover, agreeably to the usages of society, why I should have sought an introduction to Mr. Hazlett, as that Mr. Hazlett should have made the first advances to me. But, I did not care to make his acquaintance, and there the matter might very well have ended. It appears he did not think so; for he wrote me down as a coxcomb, possibly in consequence of my showing no empressment to make his acquaintance. The reader is not to suppose that Mr. Hazlett knew of Gen. Lafayette's offer, for he did not; but even if he had, it was no excuse for calumniating a man with whom he never exchanged a syllable. As to his assertion that I took pride in being called "The American Walter Scott," it will be seen it was quite gratuitous, and, if permitted to speak for myself on this point, I shall merely say that it gave me just as much gratification as any nick-name can give a gentleman. There exists in all large towns, like London and Paris, a set of very equivocal gentlemen and ladies, who aim at bringing themselves into notice without much respect for propriety. These people,who ordinarily want both breeding and intellect, and not unfrequently character, seek out every object of notoriety, less with a view to flatter him than to enhance their own importance. They are not easily repulsed by the quiet negatives of good {56} breeding, but often urge their requests to importunity. If denied, they almost invariably take their revenge by endeavoring to undervalue the very illustration, as the French have it, that they had previously perhaps exaggerated. I was awkwardly placed as respects this troublesome class of patrons. A father and a husband, and one who did not choose altogether to overlook character in his associations, I have reason to think, that a great many enemies were made in this may, and that a great number of idle reports, that have reached me, had their rise in the vindictive resentments of troublesome, adventurers of this sort. I remember a ludicrous case of their modesty which shall be given. It was our misfortune to make a slight acquaintance with a family of this description in one of the Italian towns. The acquaintance, on our part, was managed with so much circumspection that it was confined to the exchange of a few cards, and when we sent the usual signs of leave-taking, previously to quitting the place, we congratulated ourselves that the thing was happily ended. It seems we reckoned without our host, for, at a moment when the trunks were packed, the lodgings discharged, and we were actually on the point of departing, we got a visit, I might almost say of reproach, for thinking of quitting the place without attending a rout that the family intended to give the following week, and to which we had not even received an invitation. The scene was ludicrously provoking. The modest proposal was made, and this by people who were now, for the first time, within my doors, that a large family should change all its arrangements, and postpone its departure, on a journey that was to transplant it from the centre of Italy to the centre of Germany, in order to attend "our party!" These people left us with the air of those who had received a serious injury, and, like Mr. Hazlett, may have ascribed my obstinacy to the fact that I was the American {57} Walter Scott. A story founded on such an opinion would circulate widely in this country, to any man's disadvantage; and, although in the case of a writer of mere fiction the consequences are of importance to no one but himself, there might easily occur instances in which the reputations of grave defenders of our dearest rights would be undermined by the facility of which I complain.
I forbear to state a great many shameless deceptions that have actually been practised, at my individual expense, on the American Public. A brief recapitulation of two or three instances must suffice.
The New-York American published in 1827 the translation of a review of The Prairie, with a view, as was stated in the journal, to show the reader the light in which the author was held by foreigners. This critical notice (if the declaration of the man himself is to be believed) was written by an American who had changed his religion, renounced his country, and who shortly afterwards absconded from Paris with a reputation that no one can envy.
In 1828 I saw a statement, in a New-York journal, of an opinion that Sir Walter Scott had expressed concerning the stand I had taken on national questions, and which opinion was intended to lower me in the estimation of my countrymen. This statement very evidently came from the enemy. It referred to a time when I had never seen Sir Walter Scott; when we did meet, literally the first words he uttered was to express his respect for the very course which this statement intended to deride.
In 1829 an account of the manner in which I employed my time at Rome was published, although I did not visit that city till five months afterwards.
During a negotiation with a Paris bookseller,12 I was {58} rudely assailed in a French journal, for the purpose, as was afterwards admitted, of lessening the value of the publications in my own eyes. Such expedients are constantly resorted to in France.
At Florence, in 1829, a person obtruded himself on me in a manner opposed to all the forms of society, impudently announcing himself to be a French critic who had done a great deal to extend the circulation of my works. I need scarcely say that an acquaintance, ushered in with such an introduction, was declined. Just before leaving Europe, I accidentally learned that this person wrote against me in every journal in which he could obtain admission for his articles. I believe the critique lately translated by the editor of the American, from the Journal des Débats, and {59} which he compares with the communication of Cassio, in order to show that the latter was not borrowed, to have been written by this man. It is true I never saw the article in question before it appeared in the American; but it is written in the temper, and has the initial letters of my modest visiter. I believe much the greater part of the hostile French critiques on myself to have been written, in a spirit of revenge, by this man.
To such impositions is he liable who blindly copies from the journals of Europe. I could make this part of the case much stronger, but graver matter awaits our consideration.
The habit of fostering this deference to foreign opinion is dangerous to the very institutions under which we live. This is the point at which I have aimed from the commencement; for, while I feel that every defender of the action of our own system is entitled to fair-play, I have never had the weakness to believe that any personal interests of my own are a matter of sufficient importance to others, to require a publication like the present.
The practice of deferring to foreign opinion is dangerous to the institutions of the country.
In order to render the case that I wish to present clear, it will be necessary to take a short review of the institutions themselves.
The government of the United States is a peculiar confederation of many different bodies politic, for specified objects embracing certain of the higher functions of sovereignty, and to which we have given the appropriate name of a Union. The action of this government is obtained by a system of representation which, while it is compound and complicated in its elements, possesses, in fact, the redeeming and essential quality of simplicity, by providing that none but common interests shall be subject to its control. And, yet, while we actually possess, under the provisions of the {60} Constitution, the essential requisite of an ensemble in the legal operation and spirit of the institutions, nothing is easier than to create an antagonist action, by overstepping the limits of the compact. A single glance at the instrument itself will explain my meaning.
A Union, from its very nature, must be a representative form of government; but the mere circumstance that a government is representative by no means establishes its character, which depends on the fact of whom the parties are that are represented. Under our system, each State is the arbiter of its own constituency, subject to the single condition that its form of polity shall be that of a Republic. A republic is a government in which the executive power is not hereditary, or in which the laws are administered in the name of a Commonwealth instead of that of a Prince. Venice, Poland, Frankfort, Unterwalden, Berne and Connecticut are or were all republics. New-York, in virtue of its reserved rights, has decided that its constituency shall be represented on the principle of universal suffrage. Virginia has a freehold qualification. Either of these States has a right to modify its representation as it shall think best for its own interests. In point of fact, it is true the states of this Union are nearly all democracies, but they have attained this near approach to harmony by their own acts; for, under the limitations of the Federal Constitution, it is quite within the legal competency of the several bodies corporate which compose the Union, to make that Union a representation of democracies, or of aristocracies, or of a mixture of both, by altering the characters of the respective constituencies. Did the government of the United States possess more minute powers, therefore, and mere the States to exercise the privilege just mentioned, making their representations a mixture of aristocracies and democracies, disunion or revolution would inevitably follow. Although there are instances in which monarchies and aristocracies {61} coalesce in confederations for defined objects, as in Germany, and in which aristocracies and democracies unite for the same purposes, there is no instance in history in which these antagonist principles have long existed, in the full exercise of equal powers, in the form of a consolidated community. The struggle between them has always produced revolution in fact, whatever may have been done in form. By studying, then, the danger of a union of great antagonist principles in a consolidated form of government, we are admonished to respect the conditions on which the possibility of their co-existence is admitted into our own system. Although Virginia, and certain other States, may possibly be termed representative democracies, when considered solely in reference to their white population, they are in truth, even now, mild aristocracies, when considered in reference to their whole population. Immaterial as the difference is in most cases between the polity of Virginia and that of New-York, there are some points of disagreement that sufficiently show how easy it is, by transcending the conditions of the Union, to awaken a spirit of hostility, and to endanger the existence of the compact that now binds them together. To these points of difference in principle may be added, as temporary causes of disunion, those interests which arise from difference of climate and productions.
Every government has two great classes of obstacles to contend with: -- the propensities of human nature, and the difficulties that arise from its particular manner of controlling its own affairs. As the first is an evil that we share in common with ail men, it may be dismissed without comment; but in the case of the second, it will be useful to allude here to one or two of these particular causes of embarrassment as they exist under our own system.
The first great difficulty with which this government has to contend, is, for reasons that are obvious, the accurate discrimination between the powers that are granted to the {62} Union and those that are reserved by the states. The contests which may arise on these vital questions can give birth to the only true whigs and tories of America. The object of this Union was not simply government -- this was possessed in the several states -- but it was to extend a uniform system over so large a space, as to reap the greatest benefit from its action.
It has been said by others that the advantages of the Union, while they are admitted to be of the last importance, are of a purely negative character. This, I apprehend, is little more than clothing a truism in pretending language. The object of society in general is to enjoy the advantages of association and protection; to say, therefore, that we should be worse off without the Union, is but another method of saying that we are better off with it. In Europe, when the enemies of this system (and they are the friends of all others) are driven from position to position in the arguments that frequently occur between them and Americans, concerning the merits and probable duration of our polity, they uniformly raise the objection, "that your government is only a compromise." Every government is a compromise, or something worse. Every community that is not founded on such a principle must sacrifice some of its interests to others; and, in our own case, so far from believing that the mutual concessions that have been made in the compact of the Union are opposed to the true spirit of government, I shall contend that they are proofs that its real objects and just limitations were properly understood. Disputes have certainly occurred, originating in a diversity of employments; but we have not yet reached the period when all the ordinary interests of civilized society are properly balanced. When that period shall arrive, and it cannot be distant, I think it will be found that this diversity of employments is an additional ligament to the Union. But, while no great weight is to be given to a mere diversity of {63} employments, every attention is due to those feelings that enter into the daily habits and prejudices of men. In this country, facts greatly outrun opinion. This is one of the reasons that we see men looking behind them to Europe for precedents, instead of beings willing to conduct their own affairs on their own principles. Had congress the right to control those minute interests of society that touch the rooted practices of different sections of the Union, as they are now controlled by the state legislatures, the revenue of the Union would not be worth a year's purchase; for nothing but force would compel the Virginian and the Vermontese to submit to the same detail of social organization. In such a case we should quickly see the vicious influence of the adverse principles of democracy and aristocracy. Still, the constitution of the United States contemplates the co-existence of these antagonist forces in our system, through the several states, and it fully admits of their representation, for it leaves to each community the power to decide on the character of its constituency. It follows as a corollary from the proposition, that either the framers of the constitution were guilty of the gross neglect of admitting into the government of the Union the seeds of its own destruction, or that they devised means to obviate the natural conflict between principles so irreconcileably hostile. They did the latter, by limiting the powers of the new government to the control of those interests that take the same general aspects under every form of civilized society, let the authority emanate from what sources it may. This provision, then, is our only safeguard, and while it is respected there is little serious ground to apprehend the downfall of the system; but as soon as innovation shall make any serious inroads on these sacred limits, the bond which unites us will be severed. From all this is to be inferred the immense importance of keeping the action of the general government most rigidly within its defined sphere, {64} to the utter exclusion of all construction but that which is clearly and distinctly to be inferred by honest deductions of powers that are conceded in terms.
To the danger which awaits any departure from a severe interpretation of the constitution, as it is to be apprehended from the possibility, and indeed it might be added the actual existence of different elements in the federal constituency, may be added that which arises from the facility of action through the organized forms of the state governments. The latter, however, when considered as distinct from the difference in these elements themselves, is a danger that arises solely from the inherent vices and weaknesses of man. They may or they may not lead to evil, as circumstances shall direct; but the existence of antagonist principles, or of conflicting elements, in the construction of any government, must lead to dissension, unless some unusual preventive is devised. As has been seen, in our own case, the expedient is a limitation of powers.
The second embarrassment dependant on its own details, with which the federal government has to contend, is the possibility of an occasional want of concurrence in views and action between the different branches of the constituted authorities. This evil is peculiar to our own form of polity. It does not exist in England, and is almost the only solid advantage which that country, in a political point of view, possesses over our own.
As I am aware there will be a disposition to cavil at many of these positions, I may be permitted a word in the way of explanation. II has been said that in no other form of government is there the same danger from temporary collisions between the different branches of power, as in our own. To this would probably be objected the examples of England, at certain periods of her history, of France, since the restoration, and of divers of what are called the constitutional states of Germany; such as Bavaria, Saxony, {65} Wurtemberg, the Hessen and Nassau. As respects the latter, while they are included in the reasons about to be given in relation to the two others, the instances they afford are entitled to no respect, for they are all under the control of an external and a superior force. Austria, Prussia and Russia would interfere to coerce the people,13 and the knowledge of this fact only has probably prevented revolution in them all.
England, so far from being an exception to the ground just taken, affords the strongest proof of its justice. The revolution of 1668 was owing to a struggle between the powers of the state. Previously to that period the prerogative was in the ascendant, and since that period it has been constantly on the wane, until it is completely annihilated as to all practical political authority. The laws are still administered in the name of the king it is true, his signature is necessary to certain acts, and he is yet called the head of the church and state; but aristocracy has cast its web about him with so much ingenuity, that the premier conducts his hand, the chancellor wields his conscience, and parliament feeds him, until he is reduced to the conditi