This boundary question now fomenting between Michigan and Ohio, respecting a few square miles of territory, is of this description, and now rages with a degree of virulence, which sets all national courtesy at defiance, and which among European nations would have led to fighting long ago. But the United States appear to be like brothers in this respect, that though they scold each other ever so much, they are reluctant to come to blows. question, must, however be settled; Michigan, though the most enraged of the two disputants, is too feeble to contend with Ohio, backed by the United States forces: whoever has remained a few months in America, must have perceived that ranting about Leonidas, Marathon, and Cincinnatus, so much the fashion there, leads to nothing either in purity, moderation, or patriotic devotion. The United States undoubtedly possess physical force sufficient at present to settle all differences between her component parts, without the sense of which her moral weight appears to be inadequate. The proportionate strength between the head and the members cannot, of course, in process of time, vary much on the whole, however individual states may preponderate; because, whatever increase is acquired by each, becomes added to the general stock; but the moral and constitutional weight of the head, and the obedience of the members, are daily losing ground. This appears evident from the facts which I have just given, showing that each State prefers her own most trivial interests to the safety, honour, and welfare of the whole. There must be, and there is, in each of the state governments a natural desire to regulate their own concerns, without any other interference whatsoever; witness their irritable jealousy on the subject of slavery,-imprisoning missionaries in Georgia, who were acting under the license of the United States, and recently hanging them in Mississippi. State rights are the order of the day, which sometimes mean state encroachments; and Jackson, the bold and the arbitrary, has, probably without desiring it, contributed to forward their views; for the rivalship and party spirit between him and the United States bank had that immediate tendency. In his interpretation of the constitution, which he has always declared to be the only mode by which he would understand it, he declared an United States Bank to be unconstitutional, under any possible restrictions, and a dangerous engine of influential power; (he was too strong for them however)—and in furtherance of his warfare against that corporation, he absurdly charged them with being in a state of insolvency, and commanded the secretary of the treasury to transfer the government deposits from them to the state banks, and on his refusal dismissed him, and appointed a more subservient tool during the vacation of the senate, who fulfilled his orders, and thus established in the bosom of each state, many engines of power and corruption, if banks must necessarily be corrupt; and that these local banks are more corrupt than the United States Bank ever could have the power to be, is evident to all impartial persons who ever had an opportunity of witnessing their operation. The United States Bank is under the control of the proprietors of its stock, whose interest it is to conduct the establishment in a manner that will enhance its value, and prolong its existence, by strictly fulfilling the terms of their charter; whilst the state banks, and branches, being vested in the state legislators, have no personal interest in them beyond that of extracting from them advantages to themselves during their ephemeral power; and wield them for the advantage of the strongest faction for the time being. Jackson was of course influenced by the knowledge that his was the strongest faction in most of the states, and that consequently the fictitious capital raised on the credit of each state, would be through the means of directors devoted to him, chosen by legislators of his party;-employed in the maintenance of his power, or that of his chosen successor; whilst the same legislatures can, and do refuse, to grant to monied-men, corporate powers to employ their superabundant capital in banking; and thus render them dependent on the despotism of Jackson and the democracy. This is the way they crush the Aristocracy, as they call persons whose industry is crowned by prosperity, in America; they deprive them of some of the modes of employing their own wealth, and in some degree compel them to yield the management and use of it, to persons who have none of their own. If there be a constant tendency in the States to usurp power, so also is there in the federal government a disposition to give way to it; for this last consists merely of state delegates, who assemble to arrange some affairs common to all, and who can feel much less interest in their transient offices, than in the concerns of their own states, to which they are more sincerely attached by birth, connexions, property, and permanency. In short, with the exception of a few distinguished statesmen, who are always returned to Congress, and whose country is the capital, they are identified with their states; and like a traveller at an inn, who cares little about temporary accommodations in comparison of those of his own house, he looks for his advantages, applause, and durability at home: or like the Irish grand juror, he tries to obtain as large grants of money as possible, for public works and improvements in his own district, and will not too narrowly investigate the claims of others, to have his own admitted. Candidates too for the presidential chair, which becomes gradually more difficult of attainment, must find it their interest to court the states, both through influential individuals, and through their legislatures; and should sacrifices be made at the expense of the United States, it cannot offend an almost imaginary intent, (I do not mean imaginary in foreign relations,) though it may excite individual jealousy such has been the course pursued and encouraged by General Jackson. : Another deteriorative quality in the constitution of the United States is, a tendency in the executive branch to encroach on the rights of the other two; and this has, I believe, been first exemplified by the present administration. While presidents were chosen from among the ranks of statesmen, there was every chance that men of ability should be selected, and that such men should be gifted with, and recommended by, sound sense and moderation; and Washington, though a military hero, fortunately had left them a model; for who could be daring enough to pass those boundaries which he had placed to his own authority? But men of sound sense and moderation cannot long continue to please the multitude; and can rarely find opportunities, or possess qualifications, to obtain distinction in the field—the first of all recommendations to a rude people. Consequently, when conquerors cannot be found, daring, reckless, and artful men, have the best chance of becoming demagogues, and of course presidents. This description will not exactly fit General Jackson; possessing the strongest possible recommendation, that of repelling an English and invading army, he needed no other qualities; however, he chanced to be reckless and daring, and his advisers supplied the artfulness. Bitterness of feeling towards the English government, though much diminished, still exists to a considerable extent. I have heard many persons persist in asserting, in the face of probability and refutation, that the watchword, Beauty and Booty," was actually issued to the British army at the attack on New Orleans-a story so utterly absurd in the nineteenth century, arising from no-one-knows-what authority, and liable to be confirmed by every English soldier if true,-that the rage to blacken gallant men must be strong indeed with those who had recourse to it. The believers in this story are certainly not the most enlightened, but they are all Jackson men. I have also heard Americans exult and chuckle over the number of British officers and men killed at the above memorable attack; and have no doubt but that the victory was doubly enhanced by the blood of the repulsed. The same causes which raised Andrew Jackson to the President's chair, have also rendered the memory of Buonaparte wonderfully popular in the United States. He is infinitely more blindly worshipped there than in France. That they place him before all modern generals, is, I think, nothing more than justice; but his littleness, his selfishness, his faithlessness, and his inhumanity, are altogether lost sight of in the refulgence of his military glory. I have before mentioned that an old American republican insisted that he had committed one error, and only one, and that was-suffering himself to be made an emperor. I once was present when a gentleman was striving to persuade a Spanish barber, who was cutting his hair, that the Spanish nation ought to regret that Napoleon had not succeeded in Spain! But it would not do; for the barber, notwithstanding the respect he owed to his customer, who was a man of importance, indignantly spurned his arguments. These accounts, though they may seem out of place, are not altogether so, as they will serve to illustrate the sources of the President's popularity, and of a power above the constitution. And as the whole of the inferior classes are his supporters, his friends, by pandering to the grovelling taste of pulling down to our own level whatever is distinguished by wealth or intelligence, contribute to increase that popularity; so that while his attacks affect only the rights of those whom they feel, but deny to be their superiors, the legality of his proceeding runs no risk of being questioned. His taking the responsibility is a farce; for to whom is he responsible?-To the faction whose leader and demagogue he is! Lord George Gordon might just as safely have taken the responsibility as leader of the mob of London in their riots and burnings, had that mob been itself the sovereign power. His exercising the veto, in opposition to the two other powers, I will pass over, as a constitutional act, though an exercise of power which neither the Kings of France nor England dare to practise, but which with him seemed to be only anticipating the will of the people. But he committed many acts, which, if not illegal, certainly ought to be so; must have been so intended, and even avoided as such by his predecessors. His removal of the deposits, his arrogance with the senate, his removal of officials, and appointing others during the adjournment of the senate, to avoid their check-these, and many similar acts, though singly of no very great importance, yet in the aggregate show a great assumption of power. The people are daily modelling the Congress to suit his progress; he may shape his conduct to almost any course, and he will be supported by the least intelligent and most numerous division of the population, so long as he rails against aristocracy-and by every office-holder, so long as the support of his party is made the condition of holding office. He has now a majority in the Congress; but the Senate, being less immediately under democratic control, still has a small majority against him, and senators being elected for four years, it requires some time to turn the balance there; yet even now it follows very nearly in his wake. There are few questions which Jackson cannot dispose of as he pleases: that the permitting a national bank, or not, which concerns fifteen millions of people, entirely depends on his fiat, is a matter of history; and the appointment of his successor will probably occupy a succeeding page in the same record. His age alone seems to allow a hope that the balance of power may revive under a more prudent and less popular successor, but his will be the distinction of having first laid bare the weakness and corruptibility of the American constitution. My opinion is, that were he now twenty years younger, and that if the United States had been engaged in a prolonged war, in which he had distinguished himself as a conqueror, that the absolute rule of these States would be in his handsto wield it as a Napoleon, or decline it as a Washington. It requires no conjuring to tell which example he would follow. EVIDENCES OF GENIUS FOR DRAMATIC POETRY. NO. II. THE decisive success of the stage representation of Mr. Serjeant Talfourd's tragedy of "Ion" has relieved us, in a great measure, from one of the objects we had proposed in the present series of papers. We cannot now anticipate the triumph of that success-we have to pursue it merely. Its importance, in relation to the present condition of the theatres and of dramatic poetry, can scarcely be too highly rated. "Ion" was not written with a view to the actual stage. So equivocal, indeed, does the author seem to have considered his position in regard to such a literary effort, from the high rank he holds in a severe and exacting profession, that "Ion" was not even intended at first to meet the public eye in any shape, and for upwards of a year was restricted to private circulation. The courage necessary for the exertion of such genius is one thing; and an indifference to what has long been suffered to prevail, erroneously or not, as a sort of understanding with society, is another and a very different one. One of these characteristics had been already shown by Mr. Talfourd, when he shrank from displaying the other. These are in truth not times, when men of the highest genius are independent of certain forms and associations, or can dare to venture at their own peril even after glory itself. It appears to us that Mr. Talfourd acted in this matter with admirable delicacy, no less in giving way to the apprehensions which induced a private circulation of the tragedy in the first instance, than in withdrawing these at once, when the reception of the work had suggested such to be the more proper course. No doubt can be entertained that "Ion" would ultimately, in any case, have reached the world; but it is well to have it, while we have yet amongst us the living example it holds forth-an example elevating, and, indeed, invaluable, in such a "working-day" world as this is of the compatibility of the finest powers of imagination with the most laborious pursuits of a noble industry. The mere influence which its stage success is likely to have upon the best interests of the English theatres, should inspire the warmest acknowledgments of all who feel the slightest concern in their behalf. Achieved, as that success was, in the face of almost every disadvantage, it seems to us to offer the most striking evidence we have had of late years, that the living tide of enthusiasm which once set in towards the true drama has not settled yet into a standing-pool of indifference. Ion," as we have said, was not written with a view to the actual stage. It is impossible, however, as the author intimates in his interesting preface to the private edition, for any aspirant to true dramatic composition to write "without an ideal stage present to his mind." Nothing can be more absurd than the plea which is generally offered for a tedious and (if we may use such a word) unactable drama,—that it was intended, forsooth, as a dramatic poem. A poem and a drama are two very different things. They have each their own peculiar facilities-they have each their own selected restrictions-they have each a certain compensating good. No mutual exchange of these can be effected without loss to both. Wherever the plea has been set up, it has been with a view of concealing the poverty of an unsuccessful attempt. For no man of power or genius would consent to fetter himself with certain conditions-such, for instance, as the recognized rules of the drama-while he had made up his mind, at the same time, to reject all the advantages which are incident to them. The mere proposition is an absurdity. Nor will such absurdities, we may add, cease to intrude themselves into this question, until it is placed on other grounds than general criticism has been hitherto disposed to acknowledge. The distinction of the dramatic poet from every other is not a distinction of form. It is, in the strongest application of that term, an essential distinction. The consideration of the Unities has been improperly mixed up with a discussion, with which, in reality, it has nothing whatever to do. From the way in which these Unities, indeed, are constantly put forward, one would imagine that the only place where they were known was in the French drama; for if we are to mean necessarily by them a sort of formal, polished, and passionless reflection of the listless and artificial in intellect and feeling-if, where they exist, we are to suppose that the story they encircled was a mere succession of conventional decencies and proprieties, to the limitation and proscription of strong emotions-then, most assuredly, we cannot be understood to speak of the Unities of the old Greek Drama. A certain dignity of form that Drama had-a dignity of attitude and expression-a severity in the selection of its figures, and an exquisite one-ness in their grouping; but the heart of man—the great republican heart of the world universal-beat at that time with as quick and articulate a pulse as now, though it was subject to influences we have ceased to feel, and suffered its emotions to be suspended or controlled by those remorseless doctrines of fate and destiny, which the world acknowledges no more. When we opened this tragedy of "Ion," therefore, we did not hesitate because we found its grouping and arrangement "classical"-we did not shrink back because we found its persons surrounded with the associations of the Greek mythology, and subjected to the capricious laws of the Greek superstition-we waited to see if its language, its situations, and its character, fulfilled those conditions which, in a former paper, we described as essential to the drama in all ages; and, finding this, we had no longer any fear of its effect upon our own. The author had achieved his purpose of writing with an "ideal stage" before him. The reader of "Ion," however, discovers more than this as he proceeds. By means of the sentiment of this beautiful tragedy, certain materials are supplied for the English thinker, which, so far from interfering with the truth and exactness of the Greek mould it is cast in, enable him to appreciate these more thoroughly by throwing round them an accessary interest, precisely analogous to that which local and religious prejudices would have thrown round them in the fancy of an Athenian. In the character of "Ion," we have a subject most exquisitely chosen. We behold, struggling with the dark and fatal doctrines of the time, a natural and noble anticipation of a later and happier age. We are not shocked by the dreadful sight, unredeemed by good, of a half-divine Being fastened on a solitary rock, and scorched and blasted there, because he had attempted to relieve the sufferings and the sorrows of humanity. The lofty and most lovely self-devotion of "Ion," though |