the rude tradings of these poor Indians, credit, that complicated instrument of commercial exchange, operates upon the direction of their labour. Of course credit would not exist at all without appropriation. Their rights of property are perfect as far as they go; but they are not carried far enough to direct their labour into channels which would ensure sufficient production for the labourers. Their labour is unproductive because they have small accumulations;--their accumulations are small because they have imperfect exchange;--their exchange is imperfect because they have limited appropriation. We may illustrate this state of imperfect production by another passage from Tanner's story:-- "The Hudson's Bay Company had now no post in that part of the country, and the Indians were soon made conscious of the advantage which had formerly resulted to them from the competition between rival trading companies. Mr. Wells, at the commencement of winter, called us all together, gave the Indians a ten-gallon keg of rum and some tobacco, telling them at the same time he would not credit one of them the value of a single needle. When they brought skins he would buy them, and give in exchange such articles as were necessary for their comfort and subsistence during the winter. I was not with the Indians when this talk was held. When it was reported to me, and a share of the presents offered me, I not only refused to accept anything, but reproached the Indians for their pusillanimity in submitting to such terms. They had been accustomed for many years to receive credits in the fall; they were now entirely destitute not of clothing merely, but of ammunition, and many of them of guns and traps. How were they, without the accustomed aid from the traders, to subsist themselves and their families during the ensuing winter? A few days afterwards I went to Mr. Wells, and told him that I was poor, with a large family to support by my own exertions; and that I must unavoidably suffer, and perhaps perish, unless he would give me such a credit as I had always in the fall been accustomed to receive. He would not listen to my representation, and told me roughly to be gone from his house. I then took eight silver beavers, such as are worn by the women as ornaments on their dress, and which I had purchased the year before at just twice the price that was commonly given for a capote;[10] I laid them before him on the table, and asked him to give me a capote for them, or retain them as a pledge for the payment of the price of the garment, as soon as I could procure the peltries.[11] He took up the ornaments, threw them in my face, and told me never to come inside of his house again. The cold weather of the winter had not yet set in, and I went immediately to my hunting-ground, killed a