into strong prejudice and evident distaste, such as made Dickens's American Notes a caricature of conditions in the new country.
It is essentially a backwoods life to which Cuming introduces us, although not in the first stages of its struggle for existence. Indian alarms are a thing of the past, a large percentage of the land is cleared, the people have better dwellings than in the log-cabin days, there is now rude abundance and plenty, and the beginnings of educational opportunities, social intercourse, and the amenities of civilized life. The pioneers themselves—Indian fighters and skilful hunters—have become rare. Here and there Cuming encounters a former Indian captive, like Andrew Ellison, or a scout and ranger, like Peter Neiswonger; but as a rule it is the second generation whom he meets, or members of the second tide of emigrants that came in after the Revolution—officers in the army, younger sons of the better classes, who by energy and capacity bettered their fortunes in the West, built for themselves good homes, laid out towns, developed orchards, farms, and plantations, and were living in that atmosphere of prosperity which heralded the ultimate fortunes of the new land.
Nevertheless, the inheritances of the older days of struggle and primitive society are still in evidence—the lack of facilities at the small country inns, the coarseness and rudeness of the manner of living, the heavy drinking and boisterous amusements of the young, the fighting, the incivility to travellers, the boorishness of manners. All these are relics of the early days when the rough struggle with the wilderness developed the cruder rather than the finer virtues of men. On the other hand, as we have already pointed out, Cuming shows us the hopeful elements of this new land: not only its wonderful material prosperity, its democratic spirit and sense of fairness, but its adaptability,
