established itself in the place of that ancient hatred, and all petty rivalries and meaner considerations have been swept away by the strength of the current, and the cordial union of the two nations is destined to form a memorable epoch in the history of the world. And here let us mark the distinction between the causes of ill-will that so long embroiled England and France, and those that are now seething in the breast of America. France and England, plaeed upon the extreme verge of Europe, rose slowly to power and wealth, by diverse paths: France, by military prowess; England, by commercial enterprise and naval daring. The vast continental frontier of France, threatened by the powerful military states of Germany and Spain, required the maintenance of great armies to overawe premeditated invasion; while England, girdled by the sea, found upon that element the means of repelling foreign invasion, and hurling back upon her foes the bolts of her own wrath. Often as the two nations quarrelled, it was because their paths crossed each other— not that they ran side by side; but if we compare the courses of England and America, we shall find they do run side by side; and herein lies one root of bitterness. We are both commercial nations, both manufacturers, both great ship builders, competing for the carrying trade of the world, and dividing it pretty equally between us; we are both cotton spinners, both hammerers of iron, both diggers of gold, both growers of corn; we speak the same language, we bear the same names, we respect the same laws, we worship at the same shrines; and yet from this seeming unity of purpose springs the bitterest diversity of feeling. It was formerly said of England and France that they were too near neighbours to be friends; but if this be granted, how much nearer are we to America than to France in every point of view, save a geographical one. There is indeed room enough for both of us; but America, strange to say, while bending herself to the toils of empire with the strength and energy of a giant, turns aside ever and anon with the fretfulness of a spoiled child, to give vent to some unkindly feeling against the old country that ever seems to rankle in her heart. Jealousy, the foulest and most venomous of all the passions that tear the human breast, points to England as a rival to be hated, undermined, and supplanted,-not as a friend to be honoured and esteemed.

But there is one essential point of difference between England and America, one rock upon which all attempts to assimilate the two nations must split-Slavery. The "gentlemen of England who sit at home at ease," and draw their ideas of America and American opinion from "Uncle Tom's Cabin," and the like, and perhaps read in the Abolitionist papers fiery tirades against the slave-owner, are apt to regard the men of the Northern States as the steady and con scientious opponents of slavery, and to imagine that public opinion

finds a true exponent in the thunder-and-lightning articles which blaze in all the anti-slavery journals; but a little reflection will show that, were this so, the North and South must long since have been involved in a deadly struggle for the freedom of the negro. No, no, -Jonathan's electioneering speeches, and party-serving orations, must be taken for what they are worth: a strong party in the Northern States is bound by the strongest bonds of interest to the slave-owners of the South. Were slavery swept away, as the hotheaded abolitionists require, whose hands would cultivate the cotton fields of Georgia, of Alabama, of Louisiana? The cotton, bursting from the boll, would rot upon the ground; the leaves of the tobacco plant would wither on the stem; the untended rice field, choked by its own luxuriance, would become a desolate swamp. And can any sane man for a moment imagine that a nation, proverbial for their regard for the main chance, would throw awaay the inestimable benefits which they enjoy through the bondage of the negro, merely to please a party of noisy declaimers in one section of the Union. The Southerner refuses to recognize the right of the Northerner to interfere with an institution sanctioned by the American constitution, a" chartered lie" though it be: nor will the men of the North risk the disruption of the Uuion by aught more substantial than frothy speeches and fierce tirades-a species of warfare to which both sides are particularly addicted.

the same.

And if any thing more were required to secure the general support of the Uniou to the institution of slavery, the deficiency would be supplied by the course that the English government and the English people have taken upon the matter. England abolishes her slave trade: very good after mature consideration, America does England next abolishes slavery itself throughout her dominions; but in this step America declines to follow her example, warned by the misfortune and distress that have fallen upon our West India possessions. But England goes a step further, and calls upon all the civilized nations of the world to abolish the chain and the scourge, and let the captive go free. And this is an unpardonable offence in the eyes of America. It would be useless here to enter into the thousand and one arguments that English travellers on the one hand, and American slave-owners on the other, have bandied about, with little effect, save to arouse angry feeling where it had previously slumbered; but there is one point in regard of which the conduct of England has been so inconsistent with her professions as to thwart all her own efforts in the cause of freedom. It is this. England forbids her own colonist to employ slave labour, and saddles his produce with a fixed import duty; and, were her foreign policy consistent with this, the ground-work of the colonial system, there would be no ground for complaint. Then she remon

N

strates with Spain and Brazil; and finding her remonstrances against the slave trade vain, she sends a squadron to watch the coasts of Africa, and seize upon the slavers in transitu. Of course this pro

ceeding on her part leads to redoubled tortures inflicted on the hapless negros, crowded in chains upon the fetid slave-deck, and occasionally enlivened by a long shot from an English cruiser: but these are trifles in the eyes of the philanthropists at home. Well, the slaver escapes, and lands her human freight upon the Cuban or Brazilian coast: English vigilance has been baffled, and England rewards the successful thief by placing him upon the same commercial footing with our own heavily burdened colonist. Is this just? is it right? is it honorable? If England is determined that the slave trade shall cease, let her demand its instant suppression from the courts of Spain and Brazil, and let war be the alternative; but if she be willing, in order to pleasure a sordid party in the senate and the state, to encourage by her commercial tariffs the very slave trade she denounces as barbarous and inhuman, let her drop the curtain on the miserable farce she is now playing on the pestilential coasts of Africa, and recall her squadrons from those waters, where they only aggravate the horrible misery they are sent to check.

The Americans know all this, and, knowing it, they laugh in their sleeve at the folly of John Bull: but they are not the less irritated at the treatment they and their institutions have received at the hands of our scribbling tourists. Jonathan, in spite of all his brag, has not yet arrived at that pitch of self-satisfaction which makes John Bull listen with pitying contempt to the sarcasms of the foreigner; and until he acquires that easy, comfortable conviction of his own unquestionable superiority, he will continue to wince and writhe under the lash of satire, however feeble or pointless it may be. And this has a considerable bearing upon the next point to be noticed.

It will doutless be objected that the causes hitherto cited are insufficient to account for the hostile spirit breathed by America against the mother country; and to those who are unacquainted with her people these very causes may seem trivial, and of little weight; but it is not so. They may be summed up in a few lines :-Commercial jealousy, a strong desire to wrest from us the supremacy of the sea, rankling recollections of old wars, and a vague longing for revenge for all sorts of injuries and insults, real or imaginary. In such a temper, it can hardly be supposed that commercial interests, however great, will suffice alone to check the insane passion for war, of which the people of America have more than once shown symptoms; nor should we blame our Government for the decided step they have taken in increasing our naval force on the American sea-board. If Jonathan is tired of his "long, long canker of peace," he could not

:

have chosen a more convenient opportunity of disposing of the said canker our Baltic fleet will not be wanted till next summer in the North, and in the mean time its presence on the American coasts may check the military ardour of the sovereign people, or at all events keep their filibustres out of mischief.

In conclusion, let us hope that the clouds may yet pass away, and discord and ill-will give place to better feelings. Peace and war are in the hands of America: we desire peace, for we love her blessings; but if war be offered, it will be accepted; for the people of England are not now in a mood to be trifled with, or wantonly insulted; and the red-cross banner of St. George shall yet herald the approach of the Mistress of the Seas, and the thunders of our cannon shall yet once more teach the world that Britannia still rules the

waves.

MUSIC.

N.

"There are, it may be; so many kinds of voices in the world; and none of them is without signification."-I CORINTHIANS, XIV, 10.*

I.

Hark! how the rich and stately tones

Of pealing music fill the air,
Re-echoing from celestial thrones

Down through the very woods and stones
Upon the raptured ear.

II.

'Tis now a full majestic strain

That rolls in swelling tides along,

And quivers through the heart and brain,

Till every fibre thrills again

To its immortal song.

Music often seems to me like a beautiful language, heard, but not understood; as if it was trying to tell us things in Nature that we do not know, and to unveil some mighty secrets to us.

It may one day be more understood, and may prove a new language, the key of knowledge of which we have as yet no conception, and perhaps may lead on to other mystic languages, now hid from us.

III.

And now it breathes a softer sound,
Like gently murmuring mountain rills;
In plaintive tone it whispers round,
Telling of some enchanted ground
Away from human ills.

IV.

List to the varied notes it sends !
How sweet a spirit fills them all!
How soon man's stubborn thought it bends,
Each passion soothes, new glory lends
E'en to this earthly ball.

V.

It seems the voice of other times,
The language of another race;
Strange words commingle with its chimes,
And shadowings of better climes
Within the bounds of space.

VI.

Like some sweet language all unknown,
That fills our yet unconscious ears,
And ever, ever murmurs on,

Yet bears in each impassioned tone
The secrets of the spheres.

VII.

Yes! from the orbs of space around
Ten thousand thousand tongues arise;

We hear but Music in the sound,
When the loud harmonies rebound
Far through the echoing skies;

VIII.

But the Great Father of all time

Knows 'tis His children's various voice, That breathes of Him in words sublime,

And calls in every distant clime

Their brethren to rejoice;