ner, and the
cold calculating Yankee of the eastern States. I have already said that
there is a continual stream of emigration from the eastern States to the
southward and westward the farmers of the eastern States leaving their
comparatively barren lands to settle down upon the more grateful soils
of the interior. Now, it is a singular, yet a well known fact, that in
a very few years the character of the Eastern farmer is completely
changed. He arrives there a hard-working, careful, and sober man; for
the first two or three years his ground is well tilled, and his crops
are abundant; but by degrees he becomes a different character: he
neglects his farm, so that from rich soil he obtains no better crops
than he formerly did upon his poor land in Massachusetts; he becomes
indolent, reckless, and often intemperate. Before he has settled five
years in the Western country, the climate has changed him into a Western
man, with all the peculiar virtues and vices of the country.

A Boston friend of mine told me that he was once on board of a steamboat
on the Mississippi, and found that an old schoolfellow was first mate of
the vessel. They ran upon a snag, and were obliged to lay the vessel on
shore until they could put the cargo on board of another steamboat, and
repair the damage. The passengers, as usual on such occasions, instead
of grumbling at what could not be helped, as people do in England, made
themselves merry; and because they could not proceed on their voyage
they very wisely resolved to drink champagne. They did so: a further
supply being required, this first mate was sent down into the hold to
procure it. My Boston friend happened to be at the hatchway when he
went down with a flaring candle in his hand, and he observed the mate
creep over several small barrels until he found the champagne cases, and
ordered them up.

"What is in those barrels?" inquired he of the mate when he came up
again.

"Oh, _gunpowder_!" replied the mate.

"Good Heavens!" exclaimed the Bostonian, "is it possible that you could
be so careless? why I should have thought better of you; you used to be
a prudent man."

"Yes, and so I was, until I came into this part of the country," replied
the mate, "but somehow or another, I don't care for things now, which,
when I was in my own State, would have frightened me out of my wits."
Here was a good proof of the Southern recklessness having been imbibed
by a cautious Yankee.

I have