of the tremendous dangers to which civilised nations expose their character by long war. To say that liberty cannot survive it, is saying little :-liberty is one of the luxuries which only a few nations seem destined to enjoy ;-and they only for a short period. It is not only fatal to the refinements and ornaments of civilised life :-its long continuance must inevitably destroy even that degree (moderate as it is) of order and security which prevails even in the pure monarchies of Europe, and distinguishes them above all other societies ancient or modern. It is vain to inveigh against the people of France for delighting in war, for exulting in conquest, and for being exasperated and mortified by renouncing those vast acquisitions. These deplorable consequences arise from an excess of the noblest and most necessary principles in the character of a nation, acted upon by habits of arms, and "cursed with every granted prayer," during years of victory and conquest. No nation could endure such a trial. Doubtless those nations who have the most liberty, the most intelligence, the most virtue,— who possess in the highest degree all the constituents of the most perfect civilisation, will resist it the longest. But, let us not deceive ourselves,-long war renders all these blessings impossible: it dissolves all the civil and pacific virtues; it leaves no calm for the cultivation of reason; and by substituting attachment to leaders, instead of reverence for laws, it destroys liberty, the parent of intelligence and of virtue.

The French Revolution has strongly confirmed the lesson taught by the history of all ages, that while political divisions excite the activity of genius, and teach honour in enmity, as well as fidelity in attachment, the excess of civil confusion and convulsion produces diametrically opposite effects,-subjects society to force, instead of mind,-renders its distinctions the prey of boldness and atrocity, instead of being the prize of talent, and concentrates the thoughts and feelings of every individual upon himself,-his own

sufferings and fears. Whatever beginnings of such an unhappy state may be observed in France,-whatever tendency it may have had to dispose the people to a light transfer of allegiance, and an undistinguishing profession of attachment,-it is more useful to consider them as the results of these general causes than as vices peculiar to that great nation.

To this we must add, before we conclude our cursory survey, that frequent changes of government, however arising, promote a disposition to acquiesce in change. No people can long preserve the enthusiasm, which first impels them to take an active part in change. Its frequency at last teaches them patiently to bear it. They become indifferent to governments and sovereigns. They are spectators of revolutions, instead of actors in them. They are a prey to be fought for by the hardy and bold, and are generally disposed of by an army. In this state of things, revolutions become bloodless, not from the humanity, but from the indifference of a people. Perhaps it may be true, though it will appear paradoxical to many, that such revolutions as those of England and America, conducted with such a regard for moderation and humanity, and even with such respect for established authorities and institutions, independently of their necessity for the preservation of liberty, may even have a tendency to strengthen, instead of weakening, the frame of the commonwealth. The example of reverence for justice, of caution in touching ancient institutions, of not innovating, beyond the necessities of the case, even in a season of violence and anger, may impress on the minds of men those conservative principles of society, more deeply and strongly, than the most uninterrupted observation of them in the ordinary course of quiet and regular government.

ON

THE RIGHT

OF

PARLIAMENTARY SUFFRAGE.*

WHAT mode of representation is most likely to secure the liberty, and consequently the happiness, of a community circumstanced like the people of Great Britain? On the elementary part of this great question, it will be sufficient to remind the reader of a few undisputed truths. The object of government, is security against wrong. Most civilised governments, tolerably secure their subjects against wrong from each other. But to secure them, by laws, against wrong from the government itself, is a problem of a far more difficult sort, which few nations have attempted to solve, and of which it is not so much as pretended that, since the beginning of history, more than one or two great states have approached the solution. It will be universally acknowledged, that this approximation has never been effected by any other means than that of a legislative assembly, chosen by some considerable portion of the people.

The direct object of a popular representation is, that one, at least, of the bodies exercising the legislative power being dependent on the people by election, should have the strongest inducement to guard their interests, and to maintain their rights. For this pur

* From the Edinburgh Review, vol. xxxi. p. 174. — ED.

pose, it is not sufficient, that it should have the same general interests with the people; for every government has, in truth, the same interests with its subjects. It is necessary that the more direct and palpable interest, arising from election, should be superadded. In every legislative senate, the modes of appointment ought to be such as to secure the nomination of members the best qualified, and the most disposed, to make laws conducive to the well-being of the whole community. In a representative assembly this condition, though absolutely necessary, is not of itself sufficient.

To understand the principles of its composition thoroughly, we must divide the people into classes, and examine the variety of local and professional interests of which the whole is composed. Each of these classes must be represented by persons who will guard its peculiar interest, whether that interest arises from inhabiting the same district, or pursuing the same occupation, such as traffic, or husbandry, or the useful or ornamental arts. The fidelity and zeal of such representatives, are to be secured by every provision which, to a sense of common interest, can superadd a fellow-feeling with their constituents. Nor is this all in a great state, even that part of the public interest which is common to all classes, is composed of a great variety of branches. A statesman should indeed have a comprehensive view of the whole but no one man can be skilled in all the particulars. The same education, and the same pursuits, which qualify men to understand and regulate some branches, disqualify them for others. The representative assembly must therefore contain, some members peculiarly qualified for discussions of the constitution and the laws, others for those of foreign policy, some for those of the respective interests of agriculture, commerce, and manufactures,- some for those of military affairs by sea and land, and some also who are conversant with the colonies and distant possessions of a great empire. It would be a mistake

to suppose that the place of such representatives could be supplied by witnesses examined on each particular subject. Both are not more than sufficient;-skilful witnesses occasionally, for the most minute information,- skilful representatives continually, to discover and conduct evidence, and to enforce and illustrate the matters belonging to their department with the weight of those who speak on a footing of equality.

It is obvious, that as long as this composition is insured, it is for the present purpose a matter of secondary importance whether it be effected by direct or indirect means. To be a faithful representative, it is necessary that such an assembly should be numerous,- -that it should learn, from experience, the movements that agitate multitudes,- and that it should be susceptible, in no small degree, of the action of those causes which sway the thoughts and feelings of assemblies of the people. For the same reason, among others, it is expedient that its proceedings should be public, and the reasonings on which they are founded, submitted to the judgment of mankind. These democratical elements are indeed to be tempered and restrained by such contrivances as may be necessary to maintain the order and independence of deliberation: but, without them, no assembly, however elected, can truly represent a people.

Among the objects of representation, two may, in an especial manner, deserve observation:- -the qualifications for making good laws, and those for resisting oppression.

Now, the capacity of an assembly to make good laws, evidently depends on the quantity of skill and information of every kind which it possesses. But it seems to be advantageous that it should contain a large proportion of one body of a more neutral and inactive character,- not indeed to propose much, but to mediate or arbitrate in the differences between the more busy classes, from whom important propositions are to be expected. The suggestions of every man re