1810 Free States,.. Whites,. ....3,653,519.. Blacks,.. 1820 ..5,030,370.. 125,378.. 122,362. .2,208,785.. .2,842,341. Slave States,... .1,272,019.. ..1,659,514. Total U. States population,.....7,259,701......9,654,587. The increase of the blacks in the free states is exceedingly small; they were 3 per cent. of the white population in 1810, and but 1 per cent. in 1840, notwithstanding the constant accession from emancipation. In the slave states, the increase is very great. In 1810, they were 57 per cent. of the white population, and in 1840 it had increased to 58 per cent. This singular fecundity contrasts strongly with the slow progress of the free blacks, and with that of the West India blacks; and as far as rapid increase is proof of physical welfare, it speaks well for the condition of the southern slaves. It is owing, however, to the great care which the white owners take, in raising the young blacks. The best medical attendance is always employed, and white care and nursing, for the most part, carry the infant negroes through the croup, and other infantile diseases, which are so fatal to children generally. The time is now rapidly approaching when the expensive labor of slaves will no longer be profitable. The employment of slaves is inconsistent with that rigid domestic economy necessary to farm business; and every year the numbers of planting families, ruined by the improvidence and waste of the blacks, increases. As an instance of the decline in the profit of slave labor, the planters gave, in 1833, according to the Treasury tables, 324 million pounds of cotton for 36 million dollars, and in 1845, they gave 600 million pounds for the same money; that is to say, the whole expense and labor of 200,000 slaves, in 1845, was thrown away, as compared with 1833, and there is no chance of recovering the value. With the deterioration of the lands, it is generally admitted, slavery must sooner or later cease, from economical principles. When the blacks shall have been thrown upon their own resources, the increase in their number will stop, and ultimately they must become extinct as a race on this continent. In the English West Indies, on the other hand, the supply of laborers so rapidly diminishes, as to excite debate in the Imperial Parliament, on "the necessity of supplying hands," a manifest absurdity. If laborers exercise their free will, and are adequately paid for their labor, they will work. If the English government, through fraud or violence, seeks to induce so large an immigration into her colonies, that the prices of labor will fall, to the injury of work people, and to the benefit of her planters, the operation is, in fact, the slave trade in its worst form. They bring blacks from distant countries, and hold them to service," a transaction which for 30 years has been a penal offence upon the statute books of the United States. If the West Indies are left to their own resources, and British goods cease to be sent to Africa-until the nations of this continent are so far civilized as to be able to produce an equivalent by their industry, the slave trade will cease, and free and independent whites will settle the West Indies. The colonial policy of England, however, requires cultivation by serf labor, and those serfs must be imported in some shape. Parliament is just now at its wits end, what to do with the West Indies. It cannot disguise the fact, they are suffering abominable hardships. They enforced them to buy blacks in the first place, and then compelled them to liberate them. The enfranchised blacks would not work; and the colonies require, if they are themselves to be held in bondage by Parliament, to be supplied with laborers; and this task has been undertaken by the Imperial government, at the same moment that, at the expense of peace and trade, and the law of nations, they have undertaken to liberate the world; and these laborers volunteer for the West India plantations, as English farmers in time of war volunteered on board the navy, at the persuasion of a press gang. HOCHELAGA.* THERE is somewhere in our statutes a law making responsible, both in person and in pocket, the imitator of the marks of foreign manufacturers. And yet in spite of the manifest analogy, we read, both upon the title-page and cover of this book, " Hochelaga, or England in the New World, edited by Eliot Warburton, Esq.:" the "edited" in very small letters, and the Eliot Warburton in very large. At home, no doubt, the public are well aware that the author of the Crescent and the Cross has only lent his name to an anonymous author; but here the effect of this typographical shrewdness is to delude the buyer into the belief, that Mr. Warburton has travelled in this country, and written this book. If the want of a copy-right law gives our publishers full liberty to plunder the foreigners, are they not, we submit it in all deference, bound to spare their fellow-countrymen? In July, 1844, the writer left England for Hochelaga, the ancient name of Canada. After a pleasant voyage and a lively narrative, he brings us to Newfoundland, and goes ashore at St. Johns. "We find other cities coupled with words, which at once give their predominant characteristic:-London, the richest, Paris, the gayest, St. Petersburgh, the cold est. In one respect, the chief town of Newfoundland has, I believe, no rival; we may therefore call it the fishiest of modern capitals." The fishiest and the friendliest !They drive him with fast trotters; they take him cod-fishing; they invite him to numerous dinners. Unfortunately he must depart; but he rewards them for their kindness by a sketch of the settlement, history, and trade of Newfoundland. The ship sails up the mighty St. Lawrence, between many islands, past mountains and forest-covered banks, to Quebec. "Take mountain and plain, sinuous river, and broad, tranquil waters, stately ship and tiny boat, gentle hill and shady valley, bold headland and rich, fruitful fields, glittering dome and rural spire, flowery frowning battlement and cheerful villa, garden and sombre forest-group them all into the choicest picture of ideal beauty your fancy can create, arch it over with a cloudless sky, light it up with a radiant sun, and lest the sheen should be too dazzling, hang a veil of lighted haze over all, to soften the lines and perfect the reposeyou will then have seen Quebec on this September morning." Doubly delightful was it to the poetical feelings of the tourist, to see the "red flag of dear Old England" waving over the citadel. He devotes, in consequence, an unnecessary number of pages, to inform the indifferent reader of the reason why it waves there, in spite of the valiant Frenchmen who built those walls, and dastardly Yankee sympathizers who lately strove to tear it down. Viewing Quebec with the eye of an owner, every thing was bright and charming. Dinners and balls, at one of which we can almost see ourselves dancing near his friend, "the Captain," follow each other in quick succession; together with numerous excursions to the beautiful lakes near the city, around which tower the sombre pine, the glassy beach, the russet oak, the lofty elm, each of their different hue; but far beyond all in beauty, the maple brightens up at the dark mass with its broad leaf of richest crimson-and where, "soft and faint over the surface of the water," is heard the song "La Claire Fontaine," the national air of the Canadian French. Hochelaga's chronicler is perfectly satisfied with Quebec. In the middle of winter he starts with the captain on a moose hunt, which results in a sporting story worthy of Nimrod, or the Spirit. Leaving Quebec in a curricle sleigh, they reach, at the end * Hochelaga; or England in the New World. Edited by Eliot Warburton, Esquire, author of the "Crescent and the Cross," in two parts, New-York: Wiley and Putnam, 161 Broadway. 1846. of the first day, a miserable hamlet of a dozen log-houses, which the selectman informs him was quite in its infancy thirteen years ago." On they go in the dark, the snow falling fast; tumbling over cliffs, horses, sleigh and men piled together. At length they find the hotel of Monsieur Bowin-the last house before entering the wilderness. After a night on the floor, travellers, dogs, women, Indians side by side, they tie on their snow shoes, and plunge into the forest; the thermometer making thirty degrees below zero. At night they build a hut of pine branches, brick, bark and snow-with snow pillows against the walls, and a huge fire in the middle. They lie down, their feet close to the fire, half the party on each side of it. "About midnight I awoke, fancying that some strong hand was grasping my shoulders: it was the cold. The fire blazed away brightly, so close to our feet that it singed our robes and blankets; but, at our heads, diluted spirits froze into a solid mass. We were very warmly clothed, and packed up for the night, but I never knew what cold was till then. sence. "As I lay awake, I stared up at the sky through the open roof: the moon seemed larger, and her light purer, than I had ever before seen; her pale, solemn face looked down on the frozen earth, through the profound stillness of the night, like a preThe bright stars stood out boldly in the sky, throwing back their lustre into the infinite space, beyond where man's feeble vision is lost in boundless depths. Overhead, the bare branches of the forest trees wove their delicate tracery against the blue vault, softening, but not impeding the view of its glorious illumination. It is impossible to describe the magnificence of the winter nights in Canada." The day after the next, they reach the Ravage, or moose-yard, of which they were in search. "At the bottom of a high, steep hill, the dogs were sent on ahead; and in a few mi. nutes all gave tongue furiously, in every variety of carrish yelp. By this time the snow had ceased falling, and we were able to see some distance in front. "We pressed on rapidly over the brow of the hill, in the direction of the dogs, and came upon the fresh track of several mouse. In my eagerness to get forward, I stumbled repeatedly, tripped by the abominable snow-shoes, and had great dif ficulty in keeping up with the Indians, who, though also violently excited, went on quite at their ease. The dogs were at a stand still; and as we emerged from a thick part of the wood, we saw them surciously, but not daring to approach within rounding three large moose, barking vi reach of their hoofs or autlers. When the deer saw us, they bolted away, plunging heavily through the deep snow, slowly and with great difficulty; at every step sinking to the shoulder-the curs still at their heels as near as they could venture. They all broke in different directions; the captain pursued one, I another, and one of the Indians a third. At first they beat us in speed; for a few hundred yards mine kept stoutly on, but his track became wider and more irregular, and large drops of blood, on the pure, fresh snow, showed that the poor animal was wounded by the hard, icy crush of the old fall. In several places the snow was deeply ploughed up. where he had fallen from exhaustion; but struggled gallantly out, and inade again another effort for life. “On, on-the branches mash and rattle; but, just ahead of us, the panting is louder and closer, the track red with blood; the hungry dogs howl and yell almost under our feet. On, on, through the deep snow, among the rugged rocks and the tall pines ing round a close thicket, we open in a we hasten, breathless and eager. Swingswampy valley with a few patriarchal trees from it, bare of branches to a hunthe moose facing us; his failing limbs redred feet in height; in the centre stands fuse to carry him any further through the choking drifts: the dogs press upon him; wherever his proud head turns, they fly away yelling with terror, but with grinning teeth and hangry eyes rush at him from behind. "He was a noble brute, standing at least seven feet high; his large dark eye was fixed, I fancied, almost imploringly upon me as I approached. He made no further effort to escape or resist. I fired, and the ball struck him in the chest. The wound roused him; infuriated by the pain, he raised his huge balk out of the snow, and plunged towards me. Had I tried to runaway, the snow shoes would have tripped me up to a certainty, so I thought it wiser to stand still: his strength was reach me. plainly failing, and I knew he could not I fired the second barrel; he stopped, and staggered, stretched out his neck, the blood gushed in a stream from his mouth, his tongue protraded; then slowly, as if lying down to rest, he fell over into the snow" Both balls strike our author is clearly a sportsman thus coolly to drop hìs first moose. To the cold, fatigue, discomfort, he barely alludes. The deer was well hunted, and the story well told. In the spring this stout gentleman leaves Quebec, passes up the St. Lawrence and Lake Ontario, and enters the territory of the greatest nation in all creation, at Niagara. The volume on Canada is the best written of the two. The author is familiar with his subject, and writes from his heart. His powers of description are of a very high order. Nothing is amiss in his own dear Hochelaga-most favored of British provinces! Montreal is even a finer city than Quebec; the scenery on the journey thither is unsurpassed. the soil fertile, the settlers happy. The slow progress of the habitans (or their in statu quo) is almost preferable to the "rather hectic superiority of their southern neighbors; they are so light-hearted and so gay. The Canadians are loyal and public spirited; they do not repudiate. Their newspapers are superior in ability to those of the Union. The men are well-bred and manly; the women beautiful and fascinating. Canada can never be conquered by any force the Republicans can send against them. If at some remote period she should separate from the mother country, it will be without bloodshed, and by mutual consent. Even then, far from joining the Union, she will grow to be a great state, without mobs, without slavery, without repudiation, and remain a conservative check on the democratic and downward career of the States. So be it! With these and a sketch of the religion, the trade and future commercial prospects of Canada, the first volume ends. A book of travels is no place for didactic writing. We can find all the wars in the guide-books; the boundaries and statistics, are they not recorded in Worcester's Geography and Hunt's Merchants' Magazine? Paddle wheels and the "area of democracy' are not the only things that have been enlarged in this century. Travel books have risen from Madame Starke and Manning's Hand books, to Easton and the Eleven Sketches of Michael Angelo Titmarsh. We never see a chapter VOL. XIX-NO. C. 2 headed "Geography, Trade, Resources," without an inclination to slumber. What we want in a traveller are his impressions; how the people and the country strike him; these vary with the intelligence and observation of the writer--Geography, Trade, Resources, can be copied by a book-keeper. In this respect our stout, good-natured friend errs too much. The conquest of Canada, the late Rebellion, the trade of the provinces, the Oregon question, load a part of his book, which his own experiences would have filled much more agreeably. Let him be punished by being "skipped.” The second volume is on the United States. When, in looking over it, we perceived how small a portion of the country he had visited-the line of the Buffalo and Albany Rail-road in NewYork, and the Atlantic coast as far as Washington, we were somewhat reminded of the time spent by Count Smoritolk in the preparation of his work on England. They are brave, friendly, and hospitable; keen, intelligent and energetic; generous, patriotic; and lovers of liberty. Such are the people in whom we see the Promise of the Future;' even their very faults are necessary ingredients of character for the fulfilment of their great destiny; their virtues enable us to contemplate that destiny with less of dread. "I have had the happiness of meeting with many Americans, who enjoyed so large a share of the good qualities, that they had no room for the civil ones; men by every thought and action deserving of that proud title, beyond a monarch's gift yet within a peasant's reach'-the title of gentleman. It is a ple sure and a duty to express, as I do now, my heartfelt gratitude to some amongst them for their kindness and hospitalities." Very satisfactory this, and very creditable to his feelings and his taste'Sed non sic semper.' The immortal Mrs. Gamp had for authority on doubtful occasions, an imaginary female friend, one Sarah Harris, who was always found at some preceding time, to have agreed with Mrs. Gamp's present opinion. Now, English travellers, that is, bookmakers, meet with an American relative of this convenient dame-oue Jonathan Harris, we presume, who talks of blood and bowie knives, freedom and destruction, is all ready to "chaw up the Britishers," to spit tobacco juice, beat his negroes, and abuse his country too, if necessary. -This phantom meets our author at Ogdensburgh. The shape it wore, was that of a taciturn, sallow, austere-looking, middle-aged man, smoking without intermission, protected from the sun by the enormously broad brim of a white beaver hat, and adding the business of run-away slave-hunting to the pleasures of his town:-" when he saw me fairly landed, he for a moment removed the cigar from his mouth, and spoke I reckon, stranger, you have it to say now that you have been in a free country." Once again, at Saratoga, our author encountered the apparition; this time it changed its form and tone: "One day at dinner, at Saratoga. I met a man of very prepossessing appearance, with a good natured and cheerful expres sion of countenance, and a neat and unpretending style of dress; his manners and conversation bespoke him a gentleman. Pardon my nationality-I thought he was an Englishman. When we left the diningroom, we walked up and down for a little time under the verandah; in the course of conversation I asked him if he had been long in the country. He evidently was not offended by the question, and answered that he was an American, but had been a good deal in Europe. I was curious to know what he would say about the institutions of his country to a stranger; as he was evidently a man of education and refined taste. When we entered on the subject, he looked carefully about him, to see if he 1 could be overheard, and then gave his opinion. With hatred sincere as it was bitter, did he denounce them; he confessed that he could not enjoy social liberty; that he dared not express his thoughts on such subjects to even his intimate friends, not because they really differed from him, but because they did not venture to agree; that he, and those who like him, possessed certain advantages in life, were ridden over by the meanest, lowest, most ignorant of their fellow citizens. An circle of smoking aud expectorating repubhour afterwards, he was the centre of a licans, joining in a sort of chorus of selfgratulation on their monopoly of liberty and their glorious institutions. This man, an individual, represented a class containing thousands." Alas poor Ghost, and much to be pitied Harris! Why, if fearful of confiding such arrant nonsense to thine intimate friends, didst thou venture to trust an unknown stranger? Old We have repeatedly run over the Northern and Western part of this country, in rail-road, stage and steamboat; we have travelled with Englishmen, nay, have been taken for Countrymen" ourselves, but never have we seen a specimen of the Harris genus; nor have we ever heard sanguinary and exulting sentiments expressed by ardent natives, drunk or sober, either to ourselves or to our friends; and we certainly have yet to encounter a party of Americans above the degree of hod-carriers, who publicly "join in a sort of chorus of self-gratulation on their monopoly of liberty." No; either this type of the Yankees, so frequently bepictured, had obtained such possession of the author's brain, that he really labored under an hallucination, and believed that he met it: -or the book, that was to be written, lay revealed upon his face, and some wags, for all Americans delight in jokes, he tells us, personated the character to mystify our good-natured and credulous friend. Hochelaga will pardon us, if we quote one more Harrisism-so idle, as to need neither justification nor denial -as a proof that the man who runs over a country, must sometimes misread. "The historical education of youth is guarded with the strictest attention; works |