from an English resident? or how is his nature changed by the choice of India, the United States, or the Cape? The man is the same, allowing for modification by circumstances; and if he develope vices more freely than virtues, they belong to the individual, or the species; but, if the latter should show themselves more strongly and abundantly, then the change has been wrought by alteration in situation. The being removed from British oppression and British inequality has brought out the man as he should be. His feelings have become elastic and ardent, by becoming one of a society that receives him neither with neglect nor suspicion, of which he may be an important part, and in whose welfare, and in all whose interests, he has a

share.

But why should abuse be directed against this country by her brethren abroad? Is there dislike, contempt, and hatred of us-and why? Our origin is the same. And have we degenerated in spirit, in enterprise, in industry, in love of liberty, in a single useful or great quality that makes the land we come from the most renowned and the most powerful of the earth? The brief history we have recorded would not bear out the affirmative in any one particular. Then, is it because the extension of the principle of democracy alarms the torpid despotisms and worn-out forms of the governments of Europe; and that the view their social spies give of our condition and our advancement makes them fear for their tottering empires? The truth lies before them. Why misrepresent or falsify it? Why conceal from the world what we are to be, by placing in false lights what we are? Is there any thing, in our present state, that makes improvement impracticable? Will free institutions throw back civilization? Or by what perversity in the human mind will it be checked, by offering it every opportunity to advance?

But the view these persons take of us is wrong at its commencement. They do not go far enough back to include all our difficulties. They do not consider the vast change within fifty years. They see no distinction between an old people and a young nation. They cannot imagine the wants that belong to the first, but which can neither be met nor supplied by recently formed institutions: for it is an error to consider this country, as young, in the full meaning of the word-it is only so, so far as it wants the relics and vestiges of antiquity; the traces of culture in its fields; the splendour of wealth; the dig nity and honours of age; and the influence of a high degree of civilization. It is a country without a past-without tradition of glory-and whose records of fame are but of short date. There are no embattled walls, and no crumbling ruins, whose very decay shows the iron strength and gloomy majesty of a once

inaccessible power-all lives and rests with the memories of men. Our associations are with the present-our honours with the future; and it is that which we are and are to be, not that we have been, which is interesting. Our national existence is but in the bud; experience has not yet flung over it the cold shadows with which doubt and despair chasten and subdue hope.

But, if we can turn to no ancestral rolls to prove the antiquity of our inheritance, and unfold no records, where are blazoned name and deeds, there is something more inspiring and elevating in the career we are entering, and course we are to hold, in the sense of independence, and a feeling that we alone are to create and be responsible for our destinies. The first emigrants were, in all particulars, an old people. They brought with them old opinions and habits, and their consequences. They were not like the race they displaced, unsettled and savage wanderers. They did not tear from their hearts the affections and feelings that endeared their former home, nor the recollections that clung to the land whence they were driven. Their wrongs mingled regret and sorrow, but roused no hostility. They did not hate England, but the monarch and the monarchy. As sufferers for opinion's sake, they desired only the repose that would permit them to think and act as they pleased, without censure from the laws. As republicans, they wished to be free of kings, parliaments, and church establishments, and to erect a government of their own. But they still clung to their country. They were still Englishmen, though they detested many of the principles that were attached to the name; and, with this fondness, there was united a constant intercourse with the land of their fathers that preserved the ties of affection, and with them, habits, feelings, and opinions, which were hardly suited to their altered condition and exiled lot. Indeed, it is one of the difficulties we contend with, as we become able to take care of ourselves, that there is too much influence among us of things which are not adapted to our character and situation. There still exists a feeling that may be called Old Englundism—a turning of the heart and the eye towards Great Britain; a yearning for her approbation, which has served as a useful check in our weakness, by keeping before us her history, her conduct, and her principles-but, as we become more independent as a nation, and more democratic as a people, acts as a restraint, and, from being long implanted, to oppose or attack it is like the disturbance of a strong affection, or the attempt to wrench away a prejudice. This kind of feeling was once important, as cherishing a regard for the land whence we derived our origin and institutions, and as impelling us to choose, and tending to preserve among us, much that was valuable in them. But with time, and the increase of our own power-the stability of our political structure, and the improved

knowledge of our situation and its wants-the feeling, with its prejudices and attachments, is dying away, shaken and loosened, as it has been, by illiberal and abusive remark.

The natural tendency with the people of this country is to respect, even to love, Great Britain; but, as national feelings spread more broadly, and we assume the position of an important if not a great power, this kind of dependent affection diminishes and weakens. Still, there is too much leaning, and too much concession, and too great a dread of what England and Europe may think of us. We forget, as well as our satirists, that there is no comparison in our conditions. They do not seem to see or we to remember our real position; that we are an old people on a new soil; that we possess many of the refinements of life, and yet are struggling with the difficulties of a recently formed government; that we feel the desires of wealth, without the means of gratifying them; that we can reach most sensual enjoyments, but have few of those intellectual resources which create, with cultivated minds, the highest value and richest return of a large fortune. This gives us an unfortunate medium of civilization, in which the highest powers of mind are not awakened, and the stimulus towards social improvement is feebly felt.

In Europe there is nothing to be compared with this. There, all is stationary, or advancing through destruction; here, the movement is onward, but in alliance with the best interests of man, urged by an intense activity and cherished by hope. This condition for the present seems disadvantageous; all reliance is with the future. Our enemies may draw their conclusions from it, and use it to destroy all hope of success; for to them it is given to speculate, to us to act; but its friends should regard it as a necessary condition, imposed on us by local circumstances and the system we have begun and must now carry through. As yet, all has been too precocious with us, our physical strength has outrun our moral; but while the one is liable to checks, the other advances steadily and unceasingly. Yet from a people who are trying a great political experiment, and have but just commenced it; who, from the extreme rapidity with which population has increased, and the sudden and unexpected development of their resources, are made to feel that they have great dangers to contend with, as well as advantages to expect; who feel, too, that in the full play of their young vigour and its excess of strength, they are approaching a crisis and time of trial, as well as an increase of power; it is unfair and unwise to look for the immobility that comes with age and torpor, or the systematic plans of social conduct, or for more than merely laying a broad foundation on which time is to erect an enduring superstructure. Why are not these things considered by those who

criticise us? Why not narrate the difficulties we contend with and their causes, and not results alone, which every day corrects and destroys? Is it that an Englishman here is surrounded by mortifying associations, that he is constantly reminded of the disasters of his countrymen, that there is no Cressy, Agincourt, Ramilies, or Waterloo, to rouse his vanity and pride as he traverses our continent, that this is the only soil where he cannot recall some splendid achievement done by Britons, while all others, and even the ocean itself, have acknowledged them as victors? Can it be that, haunted by these obtrusive phantoms of the past, the mind and the temper lose their balance, and he dare not admit the people he is among to be the equals of his countrymen, who indeed should be his countrymen if the perverse current of his pride did not torture them into foes? Can feelings from such a source authorize the bitter spirit, the evident hostility to us, and the invectives directed against us by those who should cheer us in our attempt and the struggles it entails-at a time when England requires a friend, when her own people are seeking to redress their wrongs, and the world regards her with envy and hatred; when her restrictions and her selfishness have driven other nations to look to their resources and develope them as rapidly and to as great an extent as possible? By the continuance of these assaults shall we not be made to retort on them with dislike and suspicion; and in self-defence, from being what we ought to be, more than friends, to become rivals and foes? It has been asserted that it would be more dignified to remain quiet under the infliction of foreign detraction and malice--that instead of a general outbreak of irritation, a nation resenting the falsities and fallacies of an individual, they should be borne without indignation, and time be permitted to give them the lie. But does not this display of angry feeling among a people prove a love for their institutions, a strong affection towards the cherished hope of their ambition; and would it be better, or what would be gained, if this irritation, though it may reach antipathy, should degenerate to apathy? We have not yet placed ourselves in the position. where such attacks are not only unavailing, but ridiculous, and betray the malevolence and imbecility of the enemy. We have not outlived, like the dying nations of Europe, all speculation; but there is still a broad field over which thought and imagination may expand, and undergo the depression which a dread of the future can cause, and all the exhilaration an animated and cheerful view can excite. But time, patience, and labour are required to aid our exertions. A people on such an enormous territory as ours, do not at once start into life, a model in national greatness, and with the dignity and strength of long established governments, and their appearance of endurance, permanency,

and firmness. These are the results of long-continued and systematic action, of a progress through internal struggles and dissension, and external opposition, and the consequences of misconceived principles, mistaken opinions, and mischievous practice.

But we have said the parallel is very close, if not perfect, between this country and England, in all points that are not the results of difference in circumstances. The main elements, and all those things with which the greatest fault is found, may be traced to the home of our ancestors. Is love of money as great here as there; is the commercial spirit as mean? Is there not far greater liberality here, from the simple cause that fortune is more easily acquired? Has wealth more power here? do its possessors form a phalanx which not only secures rights of its own, but usurps those of others? is there that vein of servility and dependence that runs through all ranks and pervades all interests in the mother country? Have we an aristocracy, who, as a body, have ever kept down, or attempted to keep down, the best and strongest evidences of liberty, who have opposed its spirit, and all improvements, until revolution or its menace overwhelmed or alarmed them-a body who, by the exercise and continuance of their privileges, have preserved almost feudal authority and influence; who can brave both throne and people; yet who, at the same time, have undoubtedly served to cherish strong national feelings, and give a tone and spirit to the councils and character of the nation? If we examine the causes of difference between the two countries, we shall find that they resolve themselves very much, if not entirely, into an acknowledged division into classes in the one, at the head of which is a powerful and wealthy nobility; though this is not the only aristocracy of Great Britain, for its spirit sinks through each class, while with the other, it is the character and intelligence of the mass which governs, and the individual is an important part of society at large. This at once draws a broad line between the two countries, as to their social character. The pride of rank, the birthright of wealth and station, the inheritance of an ancient and illustrious name, keep alive a dignity and sense of honour, and cherish a desire of reputation that checks, in a country strongly commercial, much that might otherwise tend to degrade it. In England, the aristocratic feeling, with all the consequences it produces, is all-powerful, and belonging to an inferior class is a species of degradation; while here, the absence of classes, the free opportunity which every individual possesses of raising himself, and the conviction that he is or can be a useful and important member of society, displaces the social monopoly, or the disposition towards it, which a titled order holds, and brings results, on the whole, far more beneficial; for though without pride of class, of birth