It is manifest, therefore, that of all forms of government democracy is that which imperatively requires the greatest amount of intelligence and moderation among the great mass of the people, especially among the lower classes, who have always been the most numerous; and › as history can point to no quarter of the world where such a happy condition of the numerical intelligence has been realized, it cannot look with any favor on schemes of universal suffrage, even when qualified with a stout array of effective checks. The system, indeed, of repre-10 senting every man individually, and giving every member of society a capitation vote as they have a capitation tax in Turkey-however popular it may be with the advocates of extreme democracy, seems quite unreasonable. What requires to be represented in a reason-16 able representative system is not so much individuals as qualities, capacities, interests, and types. Every class should be represented, rather than every man in a class. Besides, the equality of votes, which democracy demands, on the principle that I am as good as you-and perhaps a little better-is utterly false, and tends to nourish conceit and impertinence, to banish all reverence, and to ignore all distinctions in society. And let it never be forgotten-what democracies are far too apt to forget—that minorities have rights as well as majorities; nay, that ones of the great ends to be achieved by a good government is to protect the few against the natural insolence. of a majority. Never too frequently can we repeat, in reference to all public acts, no less than to the conduct of individuals in private life, the great Aristotelian maxim 30 that ALL EXTREMES ARE WRONG; that every force, when in full action, tends to an excess which for its own salvation must be met by a counterpoising force; that all good government, as all healthy existence, is the bal

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ance of opposites and the marriage of contraries; and that the more mettlesome the charger, the more need of a firm rein and a cautious rider. He who overlooks this prime postulate of all sane action in this complex world may pile his democratic house tier above tier and 5 enjoy his green conceit for a season; but the day of sore trial and civic storm is not far, when the rain shall descend, and the floods come, and the winds blow and beat upon that house, and it will fall, because it was founded upon a dream.

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LXXXII.

CROSSING THE BAR.

BY ALFRED TENNYSON.

SUNSET and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar

When I put out to sea.

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell

When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crossed the bar.

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LXXXIII.

SCENE FROM "THE MERCHANT OF VENICE."

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

SCENE.-Venice. A Court of Justice.

Enter the DUKE, the Magnificoes, ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALARINO, SALERIO, and others.

Duke. What, is Antonio here?

Ant. Ready, so please your grace.

Duke. I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch

Uncapable of pity, void and empty

From any dram of mercy.

Ant.

I have heard

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify

His rigorous course; but, since he stands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me

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Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose

My patience to his fury, and am arm'd
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,

The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
Salar. He's ready at the door; he comes, my lord.

Enter SHYLOCK.

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face.Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought

Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;

And where thou now exact'st the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;

Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back,
Enow to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state

From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint,

From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

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Shy. I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose;

And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn

To have the due and forfeit of my bond.

If you deny it, let the danger light

Upon your charter and your city's freedom.
You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
Three thousand ducats.

But say it is my humor.

I'll not answer that;

Is it answer'd?

What if my house be troubled with a rat,

And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it ban'd? What, are you answer'd yet?
Some men there are love not a gaping pig;

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Some, that are mad if they behold a cat;
Some, when they hear the bagpipe.

Masters of passion, sway it to the mood

Of what it likes or loathes. Now for your answer:
As there is no firm reason to be render'd
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;

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Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
Why he, a woollen bagpipe-but of force
Must yield to such inevitable shame
As to offend, himself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,

More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus

A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd?
Bass. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
Bass. Do all men kill the things they do not love?
Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
Bass. Every offence is not a hate at first.

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Shy. What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee 15 twice?

Ant. I pray you, think you question with the Jew.
You may as well go stand upon the beach,
And bid the main flood bate his usual height;
You may as well use question with the wolf
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb;
You may as well forbid the mountain pines
To wag their high tops and to make no noise
When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;
You may as well do anything most hard,

As seek to soften that (than which what's harder?)
His Jewish heart: therefore, I do beseech you,
Make no more offers, use no further means,
But, with all brief and plain conveniency,
Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.

Bass. For thy three thousand ducats here is six.
Shy. If every ducat in six thousand ducats
Were in six parts and every part a ducat,
I would not draw them; I would have my bond.

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