PART I.-HISTORICAL: CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY. A PROM OF THE SOCIETY LIE NEW-YOR General aspect of the times.-Commercial distress, and its causes.-Sources of public discontent.-Views of the democratic writers.-Radical reform-Parallel between the British constitution at the time of the Revolution, and at present.-Royal authority.-Parliamentary representation. THE aspect of the political world, at little benefit to the consumer, who had the commencement of the present year, not wherewithal to pay even its reduwas, in several respects, dark and pain- ced rate. The payment, by the rich, ful. Never, perhaps, had there been of an income tax of ten per cent., was more splendid hopes, followed by a an evil of very different magnitude from gloomier disappointment, than at the the fall of the labourer's wages from close of the great war, which Britain fifteen to five shillings a-week. The brought to so glorious an issue. The suffering, most serious in itself, was era of peace, so much longed and greatly aggravated by ignorance of the scarcely hoped for, coming now under cause, and by total unconsciousness of such triumphant circumstances, was that ignorance. When men suffer, expected to usher in a happier era, and they look eagerly for a remediable to heal all the wounds under which origin; they are ready to do and to the nation had groaned. Instead of hazard much in efforts to shake it off. this expected felicity, peace was fol- A bad harvest raises insurrection even lowed by a distress much more wide- in China; much more may the distress ly and inly felt, than any which had of the lower orders be supposed to arisen from the most extended war- operate, among a people so much less fare. A general stagnation pervaded trained to habits of subordination. It every branch of industry. The loom is, accordingly, too true, that national stood still; the merchant was involved poverty, and the ebullitions of disconin difficulty or bankruptcy; the pro- tent excited or fanned by it, have formduce of the earth sunk to a price ruined much the most prominent feature in ous to the farmer, while it afforded the history of this and the following years. These observations have led us to consider seriously the causes and grounds, both of this suffering and this discontent; and a few remarks, such as our reflections have suggested, may, perhaps, form no unappropriate preface to the history of this period. Strange as it seems, that peace, usually hailed as the harbinger of prosperity and abundance, should have been the direct means of plunging the nation into such a depth of distress, a little consideration will shew it to have been the necessary immediate consequence. The extraordinary expence of this war, as of every one in which Britain has long been engaged, was chiefly defrayed by loans. We do not here discuss the political expediency, that is necessity, either of the war, or of this mode of supporting it; these questions are gone by, and have no longer any practical bearing. We are viewing the subject merely economically; and, in this light, the nation has long been acting the part of a spendthrift, who maintains an establishment greatly beyond his income. By so doing, he is plainly acting a most imprudent part, and placing himself on the high road to ruin. Still, while this extravagance lasts, plenty reigns in his household; he keeps more servants, pays higher wages, and affords more employment to all the neighbourhood than he could otherwise have done. Suppose now, that his eyes are opened; that he sees the gulf into which he was plunging, and begins a new establishment, in which his expences and income are placed on a level,—nothing can be more laudable; at the same time it is certain, that a general poverty will be felt through his establishment; abundance and comfort will no longer reign there; the wages of his servants will be reduced, and some must be dismissed; nor can the same employment be afforded to the neighbouring tradesmen and artizans. Britain, at the peace, was a reformed spendthrift. That large portion of her capital, which she had been in the annual habit of taking up and spending, had maintained throughout her population a fevered and artificial plenty. The loans paid a large body of soldiers, yielded a market to extensive manufactures, and took off a large proportion of the landed produce. If we average their amount at thirty millions a-year, and allow 201. to each individual, (which, admitting the natural majority of women and children, seems very ample,) we shall find them providing subsistence for a million and a half of British subjects. All these, by the peace, were thrown out of employment, became superfluous hands, and ought indeed to have been sent away, if there had been any place to which we could send them. There being none, at least on a requisite scale, they had no resource but to thrust themselves into the already overstocked employments at home, and, by their competition, reduce the wages of labour to a rate which scarcely afforded a bare subsistence. The evil is rendered much heavier by the great length of time during which the system had been persevered in, extending over a whole generation, and probably giving occasion to the rearing of a considerable new population, dependant on these forced and temporary funds. This body, when the great machine of society sunk into its natural state, became quite a surplus population, and a burden upon the community. Another aggravation arose from the habits generated among the mercantile classes, by the feverish prosperity of war and monopolized trade. There had been so many instances of fortunes raised from nothing, and by one happy speculation, that universal hopes of similar success were excited. To earn a competence by a life of industry, was now regarded as a mean and paltry aim; all were in chase of something rapid and brilliant. Under the influence of this spirit, every new opening which the continual shifting of the political scene afforded, was filled to treble its extent; and all the markets of the world were glutted with British goods selling at half their prime cost. The same immoral avidity of making a fortune, displayed itself by the manner in which competitors in trade sought to run down each other, by selling their commodity at a losing price, and thus obliging their rivals to do the same, till, one party being ruined, the other was enabled to establish a monopoly against the public. By such processes, commercial capital was destroyed throughout the kingdom to a great extent, particularly in the hands of those whose knowledge would have best fitted them to conduct the concerns in which it was embarked. From the very grounds upon which we have endeavoured to prove the existing pressure to have arisen from the cessation of the profuse war expenditure, it must be evident that we would be the last to advise seeking a remedy by the renewal of that profusion. This would procure present relief indeed, but at the expense of final ruin, of which the system had led us perhaps not far from the very brink. Some plausible arguments might have been urged for making the transition a gradual one, and for not throwing at once out of employment so vast a body of persons. We should hesitate very much, however, to give any such advice, or to recommend a plan, which, falling in perhaps with the inclinations of many concerned, would be so liable to be extended beyond its proper limits and period. We should be sorry even to see any intermission in those efforts to enforce public economy, which form one of the main legitimate objects of a British opposition. At the same time, we cannot help remarking the total mistake under which the mass of the nation has laboured, in ascribing their sufferings to the degree of expenditure which remains, and in furiously demanding further reduction, as the means of immediate relief. Reduction is no doubt an excellent thing in the main; but its further adoption could have no effect but to increase that existing and urgent pressure under which we labour. Its benefits would be certain and important indeed, but they would be future and even somewhat remote. If it be now asked, what remedy may be hoped for these narrow and distressed circumstances in which the nation is involved, we are obliged to answer that we know of no immediate one, except patience. This is, indeed, the main result, with a view to which the present discussion was undertaken. It would be a great good, if the nation should be weaned from delusive hopes, and should cease to expect relief from any violent and desperate efforts it could make. Certain measures, particularly those connected with an extension of the freedom of trade, may be calculated to produce some degree of improvement; but it would be chimerical to expect from any new opening, such sudden profits, as could in any degree fill up the great blank left by the cessation of the war expenditure. This can only be effected by the gradual operation of those causes which lead to the increase of national wealth; the most powerful of which consists in the constant exertion of every individual to better his outward circumstances, provided equal laws assure him of reaping the fruit of his labours. Britain, indeed, is not susceptible of that rapid growth, observable in some infant societies; still the natural advantages of the three kingdoms, joined to the skill, capital, and enter prize of her citizens, afford scope for improvement, to which it would be presumptuous to set almost any limit. Having made these observations on the subject of the national distress, we come to those equally unwelcome reflections inspired by its action upon the public mind. Yet, though this has certainly been powerful, it were too much to ascribe to it alone that blaze of popular discontent, which has been so remarkable during these recent years. It was prepared at least by some more secret principles in the structure of society. There is a flux and reflux in human affairs and feelings. Frail mortals, once involved in the political vortex, seem unable to take any steady or moderate view of a subject, and are perpetually tossed between opposite extremes. That blind and daring spirit of innovation, which was generated by the first spread of the revolutionary system, gradually gave place to the reign of anti-jacobinism; a system of bigotry hostile alike to the freedom of thought and action; which treated as sedition every doubt as to the expediency of every measure of the existing administration, and which sought to give to the established church an almost popish sway over the consciences of men. gradually grew sick of this, and events occurred which obtained for the proscribed name of liberty a reception even in courtly circles. The undisguised despotism established in France, the combined independence and loyalty in the efforts of the Spanish people, had equally this tendency. So far all was well; but it had been too much to hope, that men should stop here. The tide, once set in on the popular side, flowed with a continually increasing current, till at length all the landmarks of reason and experience began to give way. Other circumstances, almost new in the history of the world, gave it ad Men ditional force. The habits of reading, and the productions of the press, have been diffused in an unprecedented degree among all classes; while the extended facilities of travelling and communication have conveyed the habits of metropolitan society to the remotest districts. Noble causes! from which, we fear, some unhappy effects have arisen. The first and favourite use which the multitude have made of these benefits, consists in the habit of inquiring after news, and of reasoning and judging on public concerns. This is a natural habit, and which we should be slow to condemn. The human mind justly seeks to extend its sphere of existence beyond those narrow local li mits which originally enclose it. The man, who feels sympathy and interest in the welfare of a large portion of his species, is a being of a higher order, than he who is wholly absorbed in his private concerns and connections. Yet it so happens, that even in minds not wholly uncultivated, we do not always observe what is called politics to have the most improving effects on the temper and disposition. Too often does it appear rather as an arena for the display of all the most furious and malignant passions which can agitate human nature. If these are its effects, even on not uninformed minds; with the vulgar, politics are little more than a continued system of abuse and invective against those who happen to be the objects of their enmity. A democratic body forms perhaps a necessary, and even, within certain limits, not a hurtful element in a mixed constitution. Ever since the origin of popular government in England, a number of persons may be observed, eager for change, and not scrupulous as to the means of effecting it. Hitherto, however, unless upon extraordinary occasions, this body remained drawn up behind the regular parlia |