with it the stability and independence of the British empire, are to be found in the measures which have preceded, and now attend, the dissolving efforts of the revolutionary faction.

"Hypocrisy," says Rochefoucault, "is the homage which vice pays to virtue." With equal, perhaps greater truth, it may be said, that falsehood is the homage which revolution pays to order; and that the discovery of that falsehood, if made in time, constitutes at once the safeguard against its dangers and the punishment of its excesses. Falsehood, from first to last, is its essential, never-failing principle of action. Bulwer was never more correct than when he said that "lying, enormous lying, alone carried the Reform Bill." Dr Johnson long ago said, that the devil was the first Whig; and in nothing have the present leaders of the revolution more completely taken after their great ancestor, and in nothing are the features of the fas mily lineage more apparent, than in the incessant falsehoods which they perpetually put forward, and the delusive hopes which they are continually exciting. It was fruit beauteous to the eye, and pleasant to the taste, which the serpent proffered to Eve; and not less inviting are the fruits which crafty Liberalism never fails, in every age, to offer to unsuspecting innocence; but the nation, not less than the individual, which shall eat thereof, "shall surely die."

It is a curious observation, which we do not recollect of ever having seen sufficiently brought before the public, but of its truth every day's experience is affording additional proofs, that the total falsehood of the principles of Liberalism, constitutes the main source of their strength in the outset of their revolutionary career; and that if its doctrines have not been repudiated by the universal practical experience of mankind in every age, it never could, from time to time, have obtained such a mastery as it has of their imaginations. The reason, though not apparent at first sight, must, when once mentioned, appear conclusive to every candid mind. Men in every age, and more especially in every old and highly civilized society, find themselves surrounded by a multitude of ills-some spring from misfortune, others from sin, in themselves or others-the sad bequests of the universal germs of

human corruption. They see around them many evils arising from political institutions, which apparently are susceptible of remedy, by the introduction of a more pure or disinterested body of men into the administration of public affairs. The revolutionary party invariably lay hold of these evils, whether individual, social, or political, and never fail to assure their followers that they spring entirely from the selfishness or vices of the government, or aristocratic party in power, and would be entirely removed by a due infusion of democratic purity and vigour into the administration of public affairs. The simple masses often believe them merely because they have never tried them; they readily swallow the flattering tale, that corruption belongs only to the few, because the few have generally enjoyed power, and that integrity is the attribute of the many, because they have always been kept in situations where they were never tried. Nevertheless, He knew the human heart well who en. joined us, in our daily prayers, to supplicate that we should not be led into temptation. Experience soon proves, and never so soon as with democracies in the ascendant, that though the opportunities which different men enjoy of showing their inherent wickedness are widely different, their dispositions to it are exactly the same; and that the moment that the Liberal party get into power, they will exhibit the same decisive proof of the inevitable corruption of human nature of which they had so loudly complained on the part of their adversaries in power. And the reason why the leaders of the democratic party are so readily believed in these professions, is just because experience has afforded so few instances of their ever having been practically put to the test. The evils of democracy, when entrusted with the direction of public affairs, have in every age been found to be so excessive, that they have immediately led to its abolition; and thus the experience of individuals does not in every age present the same numerous examples of democratic that it does of aristocratic oppression, just because the former species of government is so dreadful that it invariably, in every old community, destroys itself in a single generation, while the latter often maintains its dominion for hun

dreds, or even thousands of years. History, indeed, is full of warnings of the terrible conflagration which democracy never fails to light up in society; and it is a secret consciousness of the damning force with which it overturns their doctrines, that makes the Liberal party every where treat its records as an old almanac. But how many of the great body of the people, even in the best informed community, make themselves masters of historical information ? Not one in a hundred. Thus, in periods of political convulsion, history points in vain to the awful beacons of former ruin, to warn mankind of the near approach of shipwreck; while perfidious Liberalism, ever alive to the force of falsehood, again for the hundredth time allures the unsuspecting multitude by the exhibition of the forbidden fruit; and democratic change is eagerly longed for by the simple masses, just because its evils are so excessive that they invariably quickly terminate the democratic regime, and actual personal experience can rarely be appealed to as to the effect of a contagion which almost always consigns its victims to the grave. And thus it is that the strength of revolution consists in the very magnitude of the falsehoods on which its promises are founded, and the universally felt impossibility of bringing them for any considerable time to the test of actual experience.

But truth is great, and will prevail. "He was a wise man," says Cobbett, "who said that paper credit is strength in the outset, and ruin in the end;" but the observation is more applicable to the ever-changing and fallacious theories of democratic innovation, than to the fictitious bubbles of wind bills and rotten currency. However alluring theories of government may appear when propounded with ingenious sophistry and clothed in seductive language, experience, when they are put in practice, must necessarily bring them to the test. system of government founded on principles utterly subversive of order, security, and property, cannot by any possibility maintain itself for any length of time. It must either destroy the community or be destroyed itself. Democracy, accordingly, in an old community, cannot by possibility exist for any lengthened period. It must either destroy national freedom, and pave the

A

way for the government of the sword, or be itself subverted by the aroused indignation of all the better classes of mankind. The near advent of the one or other of these two results, is inevitable in every old community in which the democratic passion has once obtained a legislative triumph, Which of the two results is to obtain, depends entirely on the degree of moral rectitude and public spirit which pervades the community where it has arisen. In ancient Greece, the democratic republicans, after a brief space of glorious existence, sank under the inherent evils of the form of government which prevailed; the liberties of Rome, rudely torn by the ambition of the Gracchi, soon perished under the contending swords of Cæsar and Pompey; the dreams of French equality were speedily extinguished by the guillotine of Robespierre and the sword of Napoleon--for in all these commu→ nities the majority were essentially selfish and corrupt; but in Great Britain the heart of the nation was still sound, and though it was dazzled for a time by the false glare of the revolutionary meteor, it has now fixed its steady gaze again upon the blessed light of the eternal luminary in the heavens.

The reason why, in every age of the world, the triumph of democracy has immediately, or, at least, shortly, been followed by the destruction of all the best interests of society, and the total ruin in particular of the whole principles of freedom for which it itself contended, is perfectly apparent; and the moment it is stated it must be seen to be one of universal application. It is not that the working classes of the community are in themselves more depraved, or more corrupted, than the classes who possess property and have acquired information. It is probable that all men, in every rank of life, when exposed to the influence of the same temptations, are pretty nearly the same; and whoever asserts that either a monarchical, aristocratic, or democratic government will not, in the long run, endeavour to pervert the influence of government to their own selfish interests or ambition, is not an assertor of truth, but an adulator of whichever of these forms of government he endeavours to support. But there is this difference, and it is an essential one in its ulti

mate effects upon the interests of mankind, that though the dispositions of the aristocratic or conservative party may be just as selfish at bottom as those of the democratic, there are several causes which permanently retain them in a fixed, safe, and beneficial course of government; and which, as they depend on general principles, may be expected to be of universal operation. And these causes are the following :

1. In the first place, the interests of the holders of property permanently, are to protect that property from injury or spoliation; whereas the interest of the democratic body, who are for the most part destitute of funds, is to advocate such measures as by trenching upon, or ultimately inducing a division of property, may, as they hope, have the effect of securing for them the advantages which at present they do not enjoy. Accordingly, it has been uniformly found in all ages, that the holders of property advocate measures to protect that property; while the destitute masses are perpetually impelled to measures likely to lead to revolutionary spoliation. This, however, is a matter of the very highest importance; for experience has now abundantly proved what reason from the beginning of the world had asserted, not only that the security of property in every class of society, from the lowest to the highest, is the mainspring of all prosperity and happiness, both public and private ; but that freedom itself is never so much endangered as by measures having a tendency to induce the division of property, and by the success of those measures is immediately and irrevocably destroyed. To be satisfied of this, we have only to look to the condition of France, where measures of the most revolutionary and democratic character, directed against the aristocracy of land, of wealth, and of industry, were pursued with the most insatiate thirst, and crowned with the most entire success; and in consequence there are now no less than ten millions eight hundred and sixtytwo thousand separate landed proprietors in that kingdom, while the territorial and commercial aristocracy is almost totally destroyed. And

what has been the result? Simply this, that the establishment or preservation of freedom has been rendered

totally impracticable in the country; because no power remains in the state capable of counterbalancing the influence and authority of the central government, resting on the armed force and universal patronage of the state. "The Romans," says Gibbon, "aspired to be equal; they were levelled by the equality of Asiatic despotism,"-a terrible but just expression, pointing at once to the effect of democratic triumph in levelling the bulwarks of freedom, and drawing over the state that huge rolling-stone which, crushing all the great interests of society, prepares the deep and level stagnation of military despotism. And thus conservative principles, as they incessantly prompt men to the support of property and protection of industry, are the safeguards at once of the springs of prosperity and the principles of freedom; while democratic ascend ency necessarily impels the people into the measures of spoliation, which, however tempting at first to the hungry masses, bring speedy ruin upon every branch of industry, and inevitably terminate in hopeless despotism.

2. In the next place, although no man who is acquainted with human nature would claim, either for the higher ranks or more educated classes in the community, any natural superiority in talent over their humble but not less useful brethren; yet, on the other hand, nothing can be more consonant to reason than to assert, that those classes in society who, from their affluence, possess the leisure, and from their station have received the education, requisite for acquiring extensive information, are more likely in the long run to acquire and exhibit the powers necessary for beneficial legislature than those who, from the necessities of their situation, are chained to daily toil, and, from the limited extent of their funds, have been disabled from acquiring a thorough education. In claiming for the higher, and, above all, for the more highly educated ranks, a superiority in the art of government to the other classes of the community, we do no more than assert a principle of universal application, which has not only been recognized and acted upon from the beginning of the world, but is perfectly familiar to every person practically acquainted with life in every depart.

to what, during the same period, has been brought forward in the House of Commons; and that in the latter assembly, not merely oratorical talents, but capacity for public business, have hardly in one instance been evinced by the popular leaders who have been brought in upon the shoulders of the supporters of the Reform Bill, while valuable qualities seem to be still the exclusive attribute of those more highly educated classes whose profession and business, as it were, has become the conduct of public affairs.

ment. All the professions and all the trades into which men are divided, require a long education, and a not inconsiderable amount of actual practice; and with the exception of those rare individuals to whom nature has given the power of mastering various branches of science or art at once, success is in general only to be acquired by constant and undivided attention. No person of a different profession would think of competing with a physician in the treatment of a person afflicted with a dangerous illness, or with a lawyer in the management of an intricate or difficult litigation; and probably the most vehement supporter of popular rights would hesitate before he gave an order to a committee of ten-pounders to make a coat for him, or entrusted the building of his house to the delegates of many different trades, instead of a master builder, who had acquired proficiency in one of them. În asserting and maintaining the proposition, therefore, that the classes who enjoy property, and have received an extensive education, mainly directed to that end as the profession to which they are called, are better fitted to discharge with advantage to the public the intricate and difficult science of government, than the classes which, though endowed with equal natural talents, have not had them directed to the same objects, or matured in the same manner-we only assert a fact of universal notoriety among mankind, and apply to the most difficult branch of human knowledge the principles by which alone success ever has or can be attained in the easiest. And it would be surprising, indeed, if the science of government-a branch of knowledge which requires, more than any other, a course of unremitting study during a whole lifetime, and which can never be mastered but by those whose minds have acquired extensive information on a vast variety of subjects-could be as successfully pursued by those classes whose time is almost wholly absorbed in other pursuits, as by those who had made it the undivided object and study of their lives. And this is the true explanation of the fact which, during the last ten years, has been so often observed, that the talent, and still more the statesmanlike views, displayed in the House of Peers, is so much superior

3. In the third place, and this is a most important observation, there is provided in the ascendency of the classes possessed of property and education-provided always they are duly restrained and checked by the more numerous but less educated classes of society-a permanent security against the corruption of government, and the selfish dispositions of those entrusted with power while in the possession of government. By the leaders of the democratic party, there are brought into operation a series of causes which almost instantaneously not merely spread corruption and abuse through every department of the state, but, by thoroughly depraving the public mind, render that corruption permanent, and extinguish every hope of moral or social amelioration. This is perhaps the most important observation which can be made with reference to the science of government, and it explains at once the universal failure of all attempts to establish good government on a democratic basis, and the permanent provision for its enjoyment under a well-tempered and checked aristocracy. The reason, though not apparent at first sight, is sufficiently convincing when once stated, and deserves the serious consideration of every thoughtful mind.

"It has often been observed," says Mr Hume, "that there is a wide difference between the judgment which befalls the conduct of others, and that which we ourselves pursue when placed in similar circumstances. The reason is obvious: in judging of others, we are influenced by our reason and our feelings; in acting for ourselves, we are directed by our reason, our feelings, and our desires." In this simple observation is to be found the key both to the fatal corruption, which democratic ascen

dency never fails to produce in the state, and to the permanent check which, in Conservative ascendency, is provided at once against its own tendency to selfish projects, and the dangerous encroachments of the other classes of society. When the holders of property are in power, and the masses are in vigilant but restrained opposition, the majority of the community who give the tone to public thought necessarily incline to the support of virtuous and patriotic principles, because they have no interest to do otherwise.

Hence, although doubtless in such communities some abuses do prevail, and will prevail to the end of the world, from the universal tendency to corruption in mankind when acting for themselves, and actuated by their own interests; yet, upon the whole, the administration of affairs is pure and virtuous, and the community obtains a larger share of good government than can possibly be obtained under any other form of human institutions. Above all, in such circumstances, the public mind is preserved untainted: public spirit is general, and forms the mainspring of national action; and this invaluable temper of mind, more precious far than all actual or political institutions, not only preserves the heart of the nation entire, and forms a salutary control upon the measures of the holders of power; but, by influencing the very atmosphere which they breathe, imparts a large share of its glorious spirit to those in possession of its reins and open to its seductions. And hence the long-continued public spirit and greatness of the British and Roman empires, and of all communities in which power has been for a long period in possession of the holders of property, and general thought has been directed by the aristocracy of intellect.

But all this is totally reversed when the popular leaders get themselves installed in power, and the democratic party are in possession of an irresistible preponderance in the state.

The

moment that this fatal change occurs, a total revolution takes place, not merely in the conduct of Government, but in the vigilance with which they are guarded and watched by the great body of the people. The holders of power, and the dispensers of influence, find themselves surrounded by a host

of hungry dependants, to whom necessity is law; and who, impelled by a secret consciousness that their political ascendency is not destined to be of long duration, because they are disqualified to maintain it, strive only to make the best use of their time, by providing for themselves and their relations at the public expense, without the slightest regard to any consideration of the public advantage. On the other hand, the great body of the people, formerly so loud in their clamour against every species of abuse, and their demand for a virtuous and patriotic administration of public affairs, now quietly pass by on the other side, and either openly, and with shameless effrontery, defend every species of abuse, because they profit by it, or preserve a studious silence, and endeavour to huddle up these corrupt, and to them beneficial excesses, under the cry of a reformation of the state in some other department, or a wider extension of the power from which their leaders derive such immediate benefit. Thus, not only is the power and influence of government immediately directed to the most corrupt and selfish purposes, but legislation itself becomes tainted with the same inherent and universal vice; in the general scramble, where every one seems on the look-out for himself, no other object is attended to but the promotion of separate interests, or class elevation; the public press not only never denounces, but cordially supports all such abuses, because their leaders and themselves profit by them; and, what is worst of all, public feeling becomes universally and irrevocably corrupted, because the great body of the people profit, or hope to profit, by the abuses in which the leaders of their party indulge.

The clearest proofs of the truth of these principles, and of the extraordinary difference between the conduct and sentiments of mankind, when judging of the actions of others, and when acting for themselves, may be every day witnessed in the public theatres. Observe the conduct of the people, and most of all the humblest classes of the people, when their feelings are roused by the performance of a noble tragedy, and the enunciation of exalted sentiments, clothed in the colours of poetry, and enforced by the energy or genius of theatrical re