onths the passages of the war with which I was cognizant
lost their interest by reason of later occurrences. I found myself, so
to speak, wedged out of the market by new literary importations. The
enforcement of the draft brought to Europe many naturalized countrymen
of mine, whose dislike of America was not lessened by their
unceremonious mode of departure from it; and it is to these, the mass of
whom are familiarly known in the journals of this country, that we owe
the most insidious, because the best informed, detraction of us.
_Macmillan's Magazine_ did us sterling service through the papers of
Edward Dicey, the best literary _feuilletonist_ in England; and
Professor Newman, J. Stuart Mill, and others, gave us the limited
influence of the _Westminster Review_. The _Cornhill_ was neutral;
_Chambers's_ respectfully inimical; _Bentley_ and _Colburn_
antagonistically flat; Maxwell's tri-visaged publications grinningly
abusive; _Good Words_ had neither good nor bad words for us; _Once a
Week_ and _All the Year Round_ gave us a shot now and then. _Blackwood_
and _Fraser_ disliked our form of Government, and all its
manifestations. The rest of the reviews, as far as I could see, pitied
and berated us pompously. It was more than once suggested to me to write
an experimental paper upon the failure of republicanism; but I knew only
one American--a New York correspondent--who lent himself to a systematic
abuse of the Government which permitted him to reside in it. He obtained
a newsboy's fame, and, I suspect, earned considerable. He is dead: let
any who love him shorten his biography by three years.

However, I at last concluded a book,--if I may so call what never
resulted in a volume,--at which, from the first, I had been pegging
away. I called it "The War Correspondent," and made it the literal
record of my adventures in the saddle. When some six hundred MS. pages
were done I sent it to a publisher; he politely sent it back. I
forwarded it to a rival house; in this respect only both houses were
agreed. Having some dim recollection of the early trials of authors I
perseveringly gave that copy the freedom of the city; the verdict upon
it was marvellously identical, but the manner of declension was always
soothing. They separately advised me not to be content with one refusal,
but to try some other house, though I came at last to think, by the
regularity of its transit to and fro, that one house only had been its
recipient fro