Ma.s.sachusetts The Bay State, Steady Habits.

Rhode Island Plantation State.

Vermont Banner State, or Green Mountain Boys.

New Hampshire The Granite State.

Connecticut Freestone State.

Maine Lumber State.

These are the Yankees, _par excellence_; and it is not polite or even civil for a traveller to consider or mention any of the other States as labouring under the idea that they ever could, by any possibility, be considered as Yankees; for, in the South, the word Yankee is almost equivalent to a tin pedlar, a sharp, Sam Slick.

Pennsylvania is The Keystone State.

New Jersey The Jersey (p.r.o.nounced Jar-say) Blues.

Delaware Little Delaware.

Maryland Monumental.

Virginia The Old Dominion, and sometimes the Cavaliers.

North Carolina Rip Van Winckle.

South Carolina The Palmetto State.

Georgia Pine State.

Ohio The Buckeyes.

Kentucky The Corncrackers.

Alabama Alabama.

Tennessee The Lion's Den.

Missouri The Pukes.

Illinois The Suckers.

Indiana The Hoosiers.

Michigan The Wolverines.

Arkansas The Toothpickers.

Louisiana The Creole State.

Mississippi The Border Beagles.

I do not know what elegant names have been given to the Floridas, the Iowa, or any of the other territories, but no doubt they are equally significant. Texas, I suppose, will be called Annexation State.

This information, although it appears frivolous, is very useful, as without it much of the perpetual war of politics in the States cannot be understood. Yankee in Europe is a sort of byword, denoting repudiation and all sorts of chicanery; but the Yankee States are more English, more intellectual, and more enterprising than all the rest put together; and Pennsylvania should be enrolled among them.

In short, in the north-east you have the cool, calculating, confident, and persevering Yankee; in the south, the fiery, somewhat aristocratic, bold, and uncompromising American, full of talent, but with his energies a little slackened by his proximity to the equator and his habitual use of slave a.s.sistance.

In the central States, all is progressive; a more agricultural population of mixed races, as energetic as the Yankee, but not possessing his advantages of a seaboard. The Western States are the pioneers of civilization, and have a dauntless, less educated, and more turbulent character, approaching, as you draw towards the setting sun, very much to the half-horse, half-alligator, and paving the way for the arts and sciences of Europe with the rifle and the axe.

It is these Western States and the vast labouring population of the seaboard, who have only their manual labour to maintain them, without property or without possessions of any kind, that control the legislature, their numerical strength beating and bearing down mind, matter, and wealth.

Doubtless it is the bane of the republican inst.i.tution, as now settled in North America, that every man, woman, and child, in order to a.s.sert their equality, must meddle with matters far above the comprehension of a great majority; for, although the people of the United States can, as George the Third so piously wished for the people of England, read their bible, whenever they are inclined to do so, yet it is beyond possibility, as human nature is const.i.tuted, that all can be endowed with the same, or any thing like the same, faculties. Too much learning makes them mad; and hence the constant danger of disruption, from opposing interests, which the ma.s.ses--for the word mob is not applicable here--must always enforce. The north and the south, the east and the west, are as dissimilar in habits, in thought, in action, and in interests, as Young Russia is from Old England, or as republican France was from the monarchy of Louis the Great.

Hence is it that a Canadian, residing, as it were, on the Neutral Ground, can so much better appreciate the tone of feeling in America, as the United States' people love to call their country, than an Englishman, Scotchman, or Irishman can; for here are visible the very springs that regulate the machinery, which are covered and hidden by the vast s.p.a.ce of the Atlantic. You can form no idea of the American character by the merchants, travelling gentry, or diplomatists, who visit London and the sea-ports. You must have lengthened and daily opportunities of observing the people of a new country, where a new principle is working, before you can venture safely to p.r.o.nounce an attempt even at judgment.

Monsieur Tocqueville, who is always lauded to the skies for his philosophic and truly extraordinary view of American policy and inst.i.tutions, has perhaps been as impartial as most republican writers since the days of the enthusiast Volney, on the merits or demerits of the monarchical and democratic systems; yet his opinions are to be listened to very cautiously, for the leaven was well mixed in his own cake before it was matured for consumption by the public.

Weak and prejudiced minds receive the doctrines of a philosopher like Tocqueville as dictations: he p.r.o.nounced _ex cathedra_ his doctrines, and it is heresy to gainsay them. Yet, as an able writer in that universal book, "The Times," says, reason and history read a different sermon.

That democracy is an essential principle, and must sooner or later prevail amongst all people, is very a.n.a.logous to the prophecy of Miller, that the material world is to be rolled up as a garment, and shrivelled in the fire on the thirteenth day of some month next year, _or_ the year after.

These fulminations are very semblable to those of the popes--harmless corruscations--a sort of aurora borealis, erratic and splendid, but very unreal and very unsearchable as to cause and effect.

There can be, however, very little doubt in the mind of a person whose intellects have been carefully developed, and who has used them quietly to reason on apparent conclusions, that the form of government in the United States has answered a purpose hitherto, and that a wise one; for the impatience of control which every new-comer from the Old World naturally feels, when he discovers that he has only escaped the dominion of long-established custom to fall under the more despotic dominion of new opinions, prompts him, if he differs, and he always naturally does, where so many opinions are suddenly brought to light and forced on his acquiescence, to move out of their sphere. Hence emigration westward is the result; and hence, for the same reasons, the old seaboard States, where the force of the laws operates more strongly than in the central regions, annually pour out to the western forests their ma.s.ses of discontented citizens.

The feeling of old Daniel Boone and of Leather Stockings is a very natural one to a half-educated or a wholly uneducated man, and no doubt also many quiet and respectable people get hara.s.sed and tired of the caucusing and canva.s.sing for political power, which is incessantly going on under the modern system of things in America, and take up their household G.o.ds to seek out the land flowing with milk and honey beyond the wilderness.

No person can imagine the constant turmoil of politics in the Northern States. The writer already quoted says, that there is "one singular proof of the general energy and capacity for business, which early habits of self-dependence have produced;--almost every American understands politics, takes a lively interest in them (though many abstain under discouragement or disgust from taking a practical part), and is familiar, not only with the affairs of his own township or county, but with those of the State or of the Union; almost every man reads about a dozen newspapers every day, and will talk to you for hours, (_tant bien que mal_) if you will listen to him, about the tariff and the Ashburton treaty."

And he continues by stating that this by no means interferes with his private affairs; on the contrary, he appears to have time for both, and can reconcile "the pursuits of a bustling politician and a steady man of business. Such a union is rarely found in England, and never on, the Continent."

But what is the result of such a union of versatile talent? Politics and dollars absorb all the time which might be used to advantage for the mental aggrandizement of the nation; and every petty pelting quidnunc considers himself as able as the President and all his cabinet, and not only plainly tells them so every hour, but forces them to act as _he_ wills, not as _wisdom_ wills. There is a Senate, it is true, where some of this popular fervour gets a little cooling occasionally: but, although there are doubtless many acute minds in power, and many great men in public situations, yet the majority of the people of intellect and of wealth in the United States keep aloof whilst this order of things remains: for, from the penny-postman and the city scavenger to the very President himself, the qualification for office is popular subserviency.

Thus, when Mr. Polk thunders from the Capitol, it is most likely not Mr. Polk's heart that utters such warlike notes of preparation, but Mr.

Polk would never be re-elected, if he did not do as his rulers bid him do.

It may seem absurd enough, it is nevertheless true, that this political furor is carried into the most obscure walks of life, and the Americans themselves tell some good stories about it; while, at the same time, they constantly din your ears with "the destinies of the Great Republic," the absolute certainty of universal American dominion over the New World, and the rapid decay and downfall of the Old, which does not appear fitted to receive pure Democracy.[5]

[Footnote 5: One of the speakers against time, in a late debate on the Oregon question, quoted those fine lines, about "The flag that braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze," and said its glory was departing before the Stars and Stripes, which were to occupy its place in the event of war, from this time forth and for ever.]

They tell a good story of a political courtship in the "New York Mercury," as decidedly one of the best things introduced in a late political campaign:--

"Inasmuch," says the editor, "as all the States hereabouts have concluded their labours in the presidential contest, we think we run no risk of upsetting the const.i.tution, or treading upon the most fastidious toe in the universe, by affording our readers the same hearty laugh into which we were betrayed.

"Jonathan walks in, takes a seat and looks at Sukey; Sukey rakes up the fire, blows out the candle, and don't look at Jonathan. Jonathan hitches and wriggles about in his chair, and Sukey sits perfectly still. At length he musters courage and speaks--

"'Sewkey?'

"'Wall, Jon-nathan?'

"'I love you like pizan and sweetmeats?'

"'Dew tell.'

"'It's a fact and no mistake--wi--will--now--will you have me--Sew--ky?'

"'Jon--nathan Hig--gins, what am your politics?'

"'I'm for Polk, straight.'

"'Wall, sir, yew can walk straight to hum, cos I won't have n.o.body that ain't for Clay! that's a fact.'

"'Three cheers for the Mill Boy of the Slashes!' sung out Jonathan.

"'That's your sort,' says Sukey. 'When shall we be married, Jon--nathan?'

"'Soon's Clay's e--lect--ed.'

"'Ahem, ahem!'

"'What's the matter, Sukey?'