12 JULY 1828, Page 12

EXTRACTS.

MANNER OF ELECTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES.

" Although each state controls its own forms, not only in the elections, but in everything else, a description of the usages of one poll will be suf- ficiently near the truth to give a correct general idea of them all. I now speak literally only of the state of New York, though, generally, of the whole Union. The elections occur once a year. They last three days. In the large towns, they are stationary, there being no inconvenience in such an arrangement where the population is dense, and the distances short. But in the country they are held on each successive day at a different place, in order to accommodate the voters. The state is divided into counties which cover, on an average, 900 square miles each. Some are, however, larger, arid some smaller. These counties are again subdivided into townships, covering, perhaps, eighty or ninety square miles. There is, also, great inequality in the size of these minor districts. These are the two great divisions of territory for all the ordinary purposes of go- vernment and police. The counties have courts of their own, and a cer- tain sort of legislative body, which regulates many of their financial affairs. In order that the whole subject, however, may be rendered as clear as possible, we will begin at the base, and ascend to the superstructure of their se

"The most democratic assemblage known to the laws, in which legal and binding resolutions can be enacted, are the town meetings. Any number of the people may assemble when and where they please, to remonstrate, to petition, or even to plot, if they see fit ; but their acts can only be re- commendatory. The town meetings are held annually, and every citizen who has attained his majority can vote. A moderator (no bad name for a perfectly popular assembly) is chosen by acclamation to preside. The meeting is commonly held in some school-house, but very often in the open air. In some places, though rarely, there are town-houses. At these meaings all the town officers are chosen. They consist of a super- visor ; three assessors, who apportion all the taxes on the individuals, whether imposed by town, county, state, or United States; collectors, who collect all the taxes, except those laid by the United States govern- ment, which, in time of peace, are just nothing at all ; a town-clerk, who keeps certain registers ; constable, poor-officers, overseers of highways, path-masters, and a few others The names of most of these officers in- dicate their duties. The overseers of the highway are the men who lay out the ordinary roads of the town, and who say how much tax each indi- vidual shall contribute in work or in money ; and the path-masters in- spect the labour. Men of property and education frequently seek the latter employment. The voting in this popular assembly may be by ballot, but it is generally done by acclamation. There is a penalty if an indivi- dual refuse to serve, though they are sometimes excused by the citizens, if a good reason can be rendered. The courts have also a discretionary power in imposing and in laying fines. I was present during the course of this excursion at one of these town-meetings. There might have been two hundred citizens assembled before the door of a large school-house. Much good humour was blended with a sufficient dispatch of business. The Americans mingle with a perfect consciousness of their influence on the government, an admirable respect for the laws and institutions of their country. I heard jokes, and one or two open nominations of men of property and character, to fill the humble offices of constable and pound- keeper ; but the most perfect good sense and practical usefulness ap- peared to distinguish all their decisions. There was a contest for the office of supervisor' and it was decided by a close vote. The two candi- dates were present, and on seemingly very good terms. They were re- spectable looking yeomen, and he who lost told his rival that he thought the people had shown their judgment. There was no noise, no drinking, nor any excitement beyond that which one would feel in seeing an ordi- nary foot-race. One farmer observed, that the crows had got the taste of his corn, and unless something was done, there could be little hope for the year's crop. He therefore would propose that a reward of six cents should be paid for every dozen that should be killed, within their town, for the next six months. The resolution was opposed by a hatter, who insisted that he could take care of his hats, and that the farmers ought to take care of their corn. This logic was unsuccessful ; the.:price was re- duced a trifle, and the resolution was passed. It was then just as much a law as that which hangs a man for murder. The sum voted to meet the expense was to be apportioned with the other taxes, among the citizens by the assessors, collected by the collector, received and paid by another officer, &c. &c. After this important act of legislation, the meeting ad- journed."—Cooper's Notions ef the Americans.

HOW TO WRITE HISTORY.

" The early part of our imaginary history would be rich with colouring from romance, ballad and chronicle. We should find ourselves in the company of knights such as those of Froissart, and of pilgrims such as those who rode with Chaucer from the Tabard. Society would be shown from the highest to the lowest,—from the royal cloth of state to the den of the outlaw ; from the throne of the Legate, to the chimney-corner where the begging friar regaled himself. Painless, minstrels, crusaders,— the stately monastery, with the good cheer of its refectory, and the high mass in its chapel,—the manor-house, with its hunting and hawking,— the tournament, with the heralds and ladies, the trumpets and the cloth of gold,—would give truth and life to the representation. We should perceive, in a thousand slight touches, the importance of the privileged burgher, and the fierce and haughty spirit which swelled under the collar of the degraded villain. The revival of letters would not merely be de- scribed in a few magnificent periods. We sleould discern, in innumerable particulars, the fermentation of mind, the eager appetite for knowledge, which distinguished the sixteenth from the fifteenth century. In the Reformation, we should see, not merely a schism which changed the ec- clesiastical constitution of England, and the mutual relations of the Eu- ropean powers, but a moral war which raged in every family, which set the father against the son, the son against the father, the mother against the daughter, and the daughter against the mother. Henry would be painted with the skill of Tacitus. We should have the change of his character from his profuse and joyous youth, to his savage and impe- rious old age. We should perceive the gradual progress of selfish and tyrannical passions, in a mind not naturally insensible or ungenerous ; and to the last we should detect some remains of that open and noble temper which endeared him to a people whom he oppressed, struggling with the hardness of despotism, and the irritability of disease. We should see Elizabeth in all her weakness, and in all her strength, sur- rounded by the handsome favourites whom she never trusted, arid the wise old statesmen, whom she never dismissed, uniting in herself the most contradictory qualities of both her parents,—the coquetry, the ca- price, the petty malice of Anne,—the haughty and resolute spirit of Henry. We have no hesitation in saying, that a great artist might pro- duce a portrait of this remarkable woman, at least as striking as that in the novel of Kenilworth, without employing a single trait not authen- ticated by ample testimony. In the meantime, we should see arts culti- vated, wealth accumulated, the conveniences of life improved. We should see the keeps, where nobles, insecure themselves, spread insecurity around them, gradually giving place to the halls of peaceful opulence, to the oriels of Longleat, and the stately pinnacles of Burleigh. We should see towns extended, deserts cultivated, the hamlets of fishermen turned into wealthy havens, the meal of the peasant improved, and his hut more commodiously furnished. We should see those opinions and feelings which produced the great struggle against the house of Stuart slowly growing up in the bosom of private families, before they manifested them- selves in parliamentary debates. Then would come the civil war. Those skirmishes, on which Clarendon dwells so minutely, would be told, as Thucydides would have told them, with perspicuous conciseness. They are merely connecting links. But the great characteristics of the age, the loyal enthusiasm of the brave English gentry, the fierce licentiousness of the swearing, dicing, drunken reprobates, whose excesses disgraced the royal cause,—the austerity of the 1. resbyterian sabbaths, in the city, the extravagance of the independent preachers in the camp, the precise garb, the severe countenance, the petty scruples, the affected accent, the absurd names and phrases which marked the Puritans,—the valour, the policy, the public spirit, which lurked beneath these ungraceful disguises, the dreams of the raving Fifth-monarchy-man, the dreams, scarcely less wild, of the philosophic republican,—all these would enter into the re- presentation, and render it at once more exact and more striking.

"The instruction derived from history thus written, would be of a vivid and practical character. It would be received by the imagination as well as by the reason. It would be not merely traced on the mind, but branded into it. Many truths, too, would be learned, which can be learned in no other manner. As the history of states is generally written, the greatest and most momentous revolutions seem to come upon them like supernatural inflictions, without warning or cause. But the fact is

that such revolutions are almost always the consequences of moral changes, which have gradually passed on the mass of the community, and which ordinarily proceed far, before their progress is indicated by any public measure. An intimate knowledge of the domestic history of na- tions, is therefore absolutely necessary to the prognoscis of political events. A narrative, defective in this respect, is as useless as a medicel treatise, which should pass by all the symptoms attendant on the early stage of a disease, and mention only what occurs when the patient is be • yond the reach of remedies."—Edinburgh Review, No. 94.