REVOLUTION in France! Let Europe tremble to her centre at the sound. Let monarchs and subjects alike stand aghast. The hideous spirit is once more evoked, which, but half a century ago, devastated mankind-which crushed and overturned empires, and made the fair plains of Europe a desert which added to ruthless violence the subtle poison of its principles, that both body and mind might sink at its approach, that it might be, in every sense, the destroyer-which scattered anarchy, rapine, and infidelity far and wide-and in the scenes of riot, terror, and perplexity in which it revelled, disclosed to the astounded beholders an amount of deformity in human nature, when naked and uncontrolled, far exceeding what it had ever entered into the mind of man to conceive before-and such as we most fervently trust, it never will be our fate to witness again. Once more is this dreadful power free. DEMOCRACY in France has burst the chains to which a mighty conqueror and its own excesses had consigned it, and stands forth once more, at large-and princes and potentates, and great nations rush forward now with anxious haste, and eager rivalry, to offer homage and congratulation to this newly-risen power, and England, whose pride and glory it was to have riveted its chains, is foremost in her acknowledgments; all, all are eager to propitiate the divinity; they crowd onward with the indecent haste of cringing courtiers to a newly-proclaimed sovereign, emulous in their strife to secure the youthful monarch's smile, or avert his frowns

"Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer cloud,
Without our special wonder."

Doubtless it may be, that, schooled by the past, this mighty power may shun the enormities by which it formerly was made infamous. It may be unquestionably, that the over-ruling Providence, who can adopt what instruments he pleaseth, may direct the might of this newly-refreshed giant to

the most beneficent purposes, and that under such guidance it may prove a blessing, instead of a terror and a scourge. This time alone will reveal__ we know not, we write while the tidings are still ringing fresh in our ears, and before we have had leisure to examine, or it has had opportunity to display, its character and featureswe have barely caught a glimpse of the banner which it has unfurled, and as we read the motto there inscribed, we pronounce the self-same words which were shouted in the ears of the humilated Louis and his heroic queen, as the ruffian mob of Paris defiled before them with fierce derision, through their royal palace of Ver... sailles-the words which were bellowed from the throats of the savage rioters, who burst into the august presence of the national assembly, demanding, with dreadful menace, from the cowering deputies, the fulfilment of their demands the words which rang in the ears of the five thousand victims of the five days of September, who fell untried, in the prisons of Paris, by the hands of a hired gang of butchers the words which Marat, Danton, Robespierre, and the kindred fiends with whom they were allied, chanted in their career of regicide and of blood-the words which thus consecrated, embodied, and expressed the sole creed of the French nation, after they had formally, and with solemn rite, renounced their allegiance to the Supreme Being, and denied his existence the words LIBERTY, FRATERNITY, EQUALITY.

This principle of democracy is one which is altogether new to mankind— it is avowedly a claim for the ignorance of the country to control its intelligence -it is a formal declaration that property shall be stripped of its legitimate influence, and shall succumb to blind passion and brute force. Such doctrines have been universally scouted as monstrous by all the sages of antiquity.

Among the great nations of antiquity democracy could not have existed, because of the universal prevalence of slavery. Let the political

institutions of the country have been as free as they could be made to every citizen of the state, still the domestic servants, the labourers, the mechanics, the artisans, in short, the physical force of the country; the men whose position doomed them to labour while it debarred them from the acquirement of education or of propertythe lower classes, those who are now by the proclamation of the self-constituted provisional government of France, declared politically equal to the wisest and most independent in the land; those amongst the ancients were all slaves-a class to whom political rights were never accorded; democracy, consequently, as it is now understood, could not then by possibility have existed. In Athens, which is the only state of antiquity which is ever brought forward as an instance of a democratic constitution, it is calculated that to a population of less than 100,000 free inhabitants, there were 400,000 slaves. But for this feature in its constitution, Athens certainly would be an example of an ancient democracy; not, however, the Athens which Solon established; that sagacious lawgiver took effectual care that property should be efficiently represented, but Athens as it was subsequently revolutionized. And what an example do we there find of the evils of popular control, though so much better than what is meant by modern democracy. Do the pages of history contain a parallel to the uncertainty and vacillation which perplexed the public councils of Athens, to the corruption, treachery, and want of all principle, which has made their whole administration, foreign and domestic, for ever infamous.

In America, indeed, we have an example of a people becoming a mighty and a prosperous nation under a democratic constitution. It would lead us much beyond our purpose to examine the workings of the democratic principle in the American Union-to inquire how far the prosperity of that great nation is owing to the inherent energy, industry, and steadfastness of purpose of the AngloSaxon race, and to the unbounded extent of fertile land which is on every side open to the enterprise of their people to inquire how far their prosperity has been in spite of their institutions, instead of being aided by

them, and how many and how great are the defects both in their public administration and social character, which is obviously referrible to the form of government under which they live. The most favourable and dispassionate authorities on the American constitution, M. De Tocqueville for example, speak universally of the "tyrant majority;" of the overpowering influence of this tyranny, not only on political affairs, but on the administration of justice, on the conduct of magistrates and jurors, nay, even on the very minds of men, so much so, that there is no civilized country where the freedom of thought, speech, or action, is so little permitted or understood, unless it be in the most abject submission to the omnipotent will of the tyrant majority." And in estimating the value of the American constitution, we must not lose sight of the fact, that it has not yet had to struggle against a heavy amount of debt, such as all old countries have inherited-and, by the way, the conduct of the Pennsylvanian State in repudiating their obligations, to the shame and reproach of every rightminded American, is as forcible an example as could be given of the irresistible sway of the tyrant majority." Neither, above all, must we forget, that it has never had to contend against the great difficulty of all other governments a large, half-employed pauper population; the position of America to which we have adverted, enables every man to earn his livelihood; the spirit and enterprise of the people impel them to avail themselves of it. The sedition, the heart-burnings, the hostility of classes, the taxation, the tumults and discontent, which take their rise from the poverty of the lower classes of the country, are, in America, from its territorial position, wholly unknown: against this great evil their government has never yet had to contend. And long, we most fervently trust, may it continue so; and may we never forget, that when the famine pressed heavily on our land, the kindly voice of sympathy rose universally from our American brethren, throughout the whole extent of their wide domains, and the full hand of their abundance was eagerly and effectively stretched forth to aid us in our distress.

But surely any chance of success in

this perilous enterprise of democratic government-any hope of escaping the miseries of anarchy, and being driven to take refuge under the yoke of despotism, is to be derived from the pu rity of principle, from the simpleness of taste, from the fixedness of purpose of the people by whom the attempt is made. And how is France prepared in these particulars? France, a nation to whom, with comparatively few exceptions, principle, honour, and truth are unknown; France, the only nation upon record in whom unquestionable gallantry and courage are found to consist with a total absence of generous or chivalrous sentiment—a people to whom every incident in life to be of interest must be dramaticwho seek in the minutest trifles of their existence to produce an effect, to create a sensation-with whom action and enterprise are valueless if it be not beheld and applauded-who know not, and are incapable of appreciating or of admiring, the self-denying heroism, the power of truth, which constrains an upright man to abide with desperate fidelity by the cause which he believes to be right, and by the faith which he has solemnly plighted. These are serious accusations to make against a whole people; and grievous would be our offence if we were to make them falsely or inconsiderately. But we think the time has come when these countries should resist the French mania with which, for the last twenty years, we have been invaded. It is time to put a stop to that practical fraternity which the French have recently proclaimed, and their construction of which they have so characteristically illustrated by driving our labourers pellmell out of their country, without money or clothing, by threatening to rise en masse against the mill-owners of Havre and Boulougne, if an English labourer were found within their walls; and this, too, while we hear of no such manifestation of "fraternity" towards any other foreign labourers in France. Our government should no longer cringe to that of France, and be submissively led by her to interfere, to our own great discredit, against the rights and interests of the other nations of Europe. We did so when we co-operated with France in establishing revolutionary thrones in Portugal and in Spain, in both instances

in direct violation of the settled law of succession in each country. We did so yet more flagrantly when, in cooperation again with France, we dismembered the kingdom of Holland, and established the revolutionary throne of Belgium. If there was one article more distinctly guaranteed than another, by the treaty of 1815, it was the integrity of the kingdom of Holland. Those treaties the present provisional government of France have declared to be a nullity, and not binding on their new-fangled republic; but, in truth, no governmeut of France ever practically regarded them when it suited their interests to do otherwise. If there be in the foreign policy of Europe an admitted and unquestionable axiom, it is the vital importance of maintaining a powerful and independent kingdom at the north of France, between France and the ocean; and yet England, forgetful alike of policy and treaties, joins her humiliated navy (with the glorious recollections of the Nile and Trafalgar in its memory) with that of France, and the fleets of France and of England united blockade the Scheld, to dismember the kingdom of our ancient ally. And what has England gained by this truckling to France? Hear the authority of the illustrious statesman who is now taking refuge in our country-he who, perhaps, of all living foreigners is best disposed to England, though, of course, giving to his own country his first duty. In 1846, M. Thiers took occasion to attack the foreign policy of France; and what was M. Guizot's reply? Why this-“On every part of the globe," he said, "where the policy of France and England had been at variance, in Africa, Spain, and Greece, France had fully and boldly followed the course pointed out by her interests"-and might we not suppose that it is somewhat in derision that he goes on-" without compromising in the least the friendly relations between the two governments, thanks to their intimacy.'

Why this submissive spirit on the part of England should exist, it would lead us much from our present purpose to inquire. We refer it to the ascendancy which the monied interest has of late years acquired, to the dread of war, to the determination to hold by the most powerful, to the poverty of spirit, to the feebleness of principle, and to

the abject selfishness which must ever characterize the councils of a state acting under such influence. Let England maintain the independent position, and assert the right of self-action that becomes a great nation ; or if, in the mystery of diplomacy, it be necessary that states, like weak-minded men, should have their confidants, in the name of truth let England seek for such in nations of the same character and principles as herself; but not in licentious, anarchical, and infidel France.

France is essentially anarchical. M. Guizot knows the people well; his habits of profound study and calm philosophical research well qualify him to be an authority on this or any subject of which he writes; his genius would do credit to any peo ple, and his consistency does as much as that of any individual man can do, to throw a gleam of virtue over the dark mass of corruption in which the public men of France, for the last fifty years, have lived, and moved, and had their being.

M. Guizot thus writes, in 1838, in Le Revue Francais :—

"As far as the state is concerned, the malady that preys on it is the enfeeblement of authority. I do not say of force, which makes itself to be obeyed; the depositories of public power never had more force, perhaps never had so much : but of authority recognised beforehand, as a principle, and felt as a right, which has no need to recur to force; of that authority before which the mind bends, without the heart being abased, and which speaks with command, not as reposing on fear, but as based on necessity."

This "enfeeblement of authority" naturally flowed from the excesses of the first Revolution, and the total abolition of every institution to which (when not perverted by abuse from its legitimate action) the nature of man voluntarily yields reverence-the destruction of the nobility, the overthrow of the church, the precaution which was taken to guard against any legiti mate local influence, or conservative principle growing up in the state by controlling the disposition of property, making it compulsory on a father to divide his property, both real and personal, among all his children, or as the law now is, leaving him but one share

to dispose of, so that if a father has four sons, he has a disposing power over but one-fifth of his property. The licentious character of their press, the degraded condition of their clergy, wretched pensioners of the state, and the mad impulse which was given to the cravings of plebeian ambition— these things have sown and nurtured in France the seed of the revolutionary spirit which makes all chance of constitutional government, as we understand the term, hopeless, and gives the French people no refuge from anarchy but under the iron despotism of a Napoleon or a Louis Philippe. Take into account, too, their total inexperience of anything like habits of administration of affairs, and the catalogue of their disqualifications for popular government is complete; no municipalities, no corporations, no associations throughout the whole of France; the entire country, thirty-five millions of people, submitting unresistingly to the dominion of a corrupt and luxurious capital.

This subjection of the whole country to the capital, which is so extraordinary a feature in France, is owing to the unparalleled extent to which the system of centralization is carried, to the absence of commercial or other profitable pursuits, which creates such a craving for government employments, and to the prodigious extent to which the government interferes in the general economy of the country. In France, the army, the navy, all excise and custom-house officers, the police, all the legal functionaries throughout the departments, all the magistracy of the departments, mayors and their deputies, prefects and sub-prefects, all are appointed by the government. So is every one in connexion with the post-office, the masters of all the schools, the superintendents of all the roads and bridges, every postilion and post-horse that travels on the roads, and every labourer who breaks the stones with which they are repaired, all are appointed by the state. The ministers of religion of every Christian persuasion, and, since the Revolu. tion of 1830, even of the Jews, are salaried by the state; the theatres are supported by the state, and houses of infamous resort are licensed by the state, and under its control. So that for everything the Frenchman is referred directly to the govern

ment-for protection from abroad, for discipline at home, for instruction when young, for employment when he grows up, for the excitements of dissipation while he is living, and for the soothing consolation of religion as he dies. The direction of all these various departments of the social economy rests with the supreme authority in Paris; and let a Parisian mob, or a Napoleon, or Louis Philippe, but seize the Hotel de Ville and the telegraph, and he has France. All the functionaries and employès of the state, all their wide-spread influence, which covers France as with a mesh-all spring from Paris.

And if anything were still wanting to account for the dominion of the capital over the whole empire, it is to be found in the wretched condition of the rural population of France, occasioned by the operation of the law as to the distribution of property, of which we have spoken. In France, by reason of this law of infinite subdivision, there are now no less than five millions and a half of distinct proprietary families; averaging each family at four persons, there are, consequently, twenty millions of persons, out of a population of thirty-five millions, dependent, to a greater or less degree, upon landed property. The whole area of France is about one hundred and twenty millions of acres. There are few or no manufacturing or commercial towns to absorb the population-with the exception of Lyons, Bourdeaux, and Marseilles, none of any account; so that from the combined operation of this law against accumulation, and the nature of the industrial resources of the country, it has come to this, that comparatively few of this proprietary enjoy a revenue of more than four hundred a-year, while nearly one-half of them are seized of estates of the annual value of two pounds!

Doubtless these small rural properties are the scene of much industry and frugality. We make no doubt, too, that there exists here a considerable share of devotional feeling.

But

the labour which is forced on the French by the necessities of their condition, is no more an evidence of industrious habits, than the piety which is only found when they are out of the way of temptation, is an evidence of a

pure religion. Let the Frenchman acquire but the smallest independence-give him what will purchase one of the government life annuities, which are so common in France, and he is away at once to the capital, and there plunges, with the ardour of one who has at length found his congenial element, into the whirl and excitement of the dissipated throng.

There could not, possibly, be a greater mistake than that of supposing that the recent Revolution in France was any sudden outburst of caprice, or that it sprung from any impulsive assertion of popular right against an arbitrary act of the government. The social condition of France has, in fact, left that unhappy people but a choice of evils-either the restraint of despotism, or the anarchy and tyranny of democracy. The most cursory review of their history will satisfy any one, that from the first revolution to the last, the self-same republican spirit has been incessantly in action, diverted, indeed, under Napoleon, by the excitement, and dazzled by the glory of his foreign wars. Exhausted and dejected by the dreadful reverses which preceded the restoration of the Bourbons, it slumbered for a while; but gradually gaining strength, it could only be curbed in the latter years of the reign of Louis, and while his successor continued on the throne by the arbitrary assertion of power by these monarchs, in open and direct defiance of the charter which the first had granted on his restoration, and which both had sworn to uphold, breaking out at last at the revolt of the barricades, it hurled Charles from the throne; and partly by accident, partly by intrigue, its late occupant was seated in his place. But the acts of the elder Bourbons were constitutional, the yoke of Napoleon was light, as compared with that which Louis Philippe was obliged to resort to, in order to control this revolutionary frenzy. It had now recovered from the reverses of 1815, and had gained daring by its triumph of 1830. Under the amended charter of 1830, to which Louis Philippe swore allegiance, popular rights were asserted to an extent which, although but in conformity with our notions of constitutional freedom, and adapted to the habits and principles of the people of these countries, were yet, with the