party, is very apt to be considered an inferior being, by all those who are adepts in such grave mysteries. Dress, too, like manners, makes the man, who, according to the sage philosopher, Martinus Scriblerus, is the mere appendage; and the poor are very apt to be out of fashion. Last, comes the aristocratic foot, hand, and ear, which, like the long nails of the Chinese, are indisputable marks of high blood and breeding. In all these, the laboring class is sadly deficient. Thus, though the rich and noble in England are sometimes charitable to the poor, especially when a subscription-list is headed by the Queen, it is by no means certain that the giver is actuated by kindly feelings, or that the receiver will be grateful. The best bond of amity is mutual good offices, and the best of all charity is that of rewarding labor with the full value of its exertions. Charity may ennoble the giver, but not the receiver; and in the whole course of our reading and experi ence, we have never met with a nation of beggars and paupers, that was not a nation of rogues and slaves.

To screw men down to what is delicately called the minimum-in other words, the wages of starvation by inches, and then make up a portion of the deficiency by charity, is one of the most certain modes of debasing a people; and so far from awakening grateful feelings, renders the poor victims of this ambidexter system, for the most part, incapable of gratitude or any other virtue. On the contrary, he who receives the proper equivalent for his labor-by which we mean what will suffice for the decent support of his family-feels himself under no obligation, because he has earned his reward. He has given the full equivalent, and so far the parties are equal. This is the only sure, and at the same time salutary influence that produces a harmonious coöperation of the different orders of society, by giving to every man what is justly his duelabor to one, reward to the other. This constitutes the strongest ligament of society, the great principle of attraction which regulates the moral, as well as material world, and prevents the different classes of mankind from crushing each other. Even savages recognize the obligation of mutual benefits. It is related, that, in the early stage of the partial subjugation of New Mexico by the Spaniards, one of thein was taken prisoner by the Comanches, who were about to put him to death in their usual barbarous manner, when he managed by signs to make them understand that he could teach them something very useful. Accordingly they released him from his bonds, when he showed them how to manage the horses which they had now captured for the first time. The savages were so

delighted with this new acquisition, that they adopted him, and he, in process of time, became the head chief of the tribe.

That the privileged orders of England, and the continent of Europe, have little if any of what is familiarly called fellowfeeling with the laboring classes, is sufficiently evident from the horror with which they recoil from all connection of blood, as well as all social intercourse on equal terms, at the moment they are denouncing the people of the United States for declining to amalgamate with slaves of a different race, color and physical organization. Nothing but money, that universal leveller in modern times, can bring them into alliance or intercourse with the vulgar millionaire. This dispensation-not of the Pope, but Plutus-has however been extremely fortunate for the nobility of England, many of whom would probably be now on the parish, had not they or their ancestors condescended to wed a city heiress, and thus recruit their finances with the spoils of some eminent tallow-chandler, porkbutcher, or shaver of bonds, bills, and notes of hand.

In addition to these causes of alienation, there is another, acting most powerfully on that distaste to the people, which is an invariable characteristic of aristocracy. The people are becoming too formidable to be any longer despised. They are beginning to be feared. The many are gradually acquir ing a perception of their power, and the sense of individual weakness has been superseded by the consciousness of combined strength. That scorn of the people which is the invariable indication of a bad government, and which had become one of the heir-looms of aristocracy, is rapidly giving place to an increasing apprehension of their power, and a jealousy of their will. The privileged orders anticipate an approaching struggle between the past and the present, which is to decide the aspect of the future, and settle the question, whether the living or the dead are to govern. Thus the relative position of the few and the many is changing, and that feeling of hereditary inferiority, which heretofore cowed the latter into submission, is now transferred to the former, since, however its individual members may challenge a superiority, they cannot but be sensible of aggregate weakness.

They begin to cower under the potency of the popular feeling, and are seeking protection behind the bayonets of hireling soldiers, and the bludgeons of a hireling police. Thus the aristocracy and the people, those who inherit all, and those who inherit nothing,-so far from being mutual elements of strength to European nations, are now at issue in what will probably, before it ends, become a bloody struggle, which is

only postponed by the interposition of standing armies, now the only peace officers. All these great states are now virtually nothing more than military despotisms. They are not based on love, but fear, and their only cement is force.

It is sufficiently evident, that a long series of oppression has alienated a great portion of the people of Europe, and destroyed all attachment to their governments. It is true that the people have not as yet risen in mass, for there is always a large class of every nation, not absolutely crushed by an Oriental despotism, averse to war and violence, and who are content to remain quiet under every privation except that of food. These can only be stimulated to action by starvation, and require merely to be fed. But there is a smaller class of daring and adventurous spirits, that always takes the lead, and often makes that easy which was before deemed impossible. Europe abounds in these, and it also abounds in materials for them to act upon. This fact is fully recognized in the fears of Russia and Austria, with regard to the Hunga rian exiles, and in their earnest requisitions on Turkey, England, Switzerland and Belgium, for the expulsion of all exiles from their territories. Still more palpably is it evinced in their jealousy of the press, and the efforts to suppress all freedom of opinion. They seem to be aware of the precarious state of Europe, and that a newspaper can overthrow their empires. Such an apprehension can only originate in a conviction that they contain a mass of combustibles which only requires a spark to set it in flames.

The necessity of great standing armies to enforce obedience is sufficient evidence that a large portion of the people of Europe are disaffected to their governments, and, if they had the power, would either change or overthrow them. To this, however, strange as it may appear, Russia, though an almost eastern despotism, is an exception. The Russians are unquestionably loyal to the present Emperor; but this feeling originates not so much in attachment to his person, or a feeling of patriotism, as from religious bigotry. The people identify their government with their religion, and have been taught to believe them inseparable. They are excessively ignorant, and excessively bigoted,* and are fully assured that a change in one would inevitably bring about the downfall of the other. Thus bigotry supplies the place of patriotism, and all desire of liberty is superseded by apprehensions for the safety of the church. So long as this state of things continues, we look upon the government of Russia as the most stable in Europe.

*See Erman's Travels in Russia and Siberia,

With this exception, the vast standing armies, maintained at the expense of the people, are rather for the purpose of preserving internal tranquillity and order,* than for defence against external enemies. At a time when Europe is staggering under a debt of more than sixteen hundred millions of pounds sterling, and not yet recovered from the exhaustion of the wars growing out of the French revolution, nearly two millions of soldiers are quartered on the people, under pretence of preserving the balance of Europe, which no longer exists, but in reality to awe the people into quiet, enforce their submission, or suppress every effort for reform. Hundreds of millions of dollars are annually wrested from the people or raised by loans, for which they are responsible, and the interest of which they must pay, for the purpose of hiring soldiers, whose bayonets are oftener pointed against themselves than their enemies, and thus the same instrument is employed to rob them of their rights and their bread.

Previous to the last revolution that exiled James the Second, which gave a terrible blow to legitimacy, and which is hailed by English writers as the era of their freedomstanding armies in time of peace were unknown in England, and we recollect no instance in the history of that country, where Parliament could be induced to make appropriations for their support, except in cases of actual or anticipated war. A general peace was always the signal for paying off and disbanding the army. But the era of British freedom was that of banks, loans and standing armies, which were all born at the same time, and of the same brood. The bank purchased a charter by bribing the government with a loan, which was the commencement of a system of borrowing, that has ever since enabled it to keep up a great military establishment at all times. The example has been followed in all parts of Europe, and at this moment, Sweden and Switzerland are the only two countries, in that quarter, free from the burden of a public debt, and the intolerable nuisance of a great standing army.

The good people of England were not so enlightened at the

* "The old jealousies of which it" (a standing army) "was the object, no longer exist, and there can be no doubt that the establishment of a properly trained military force is not only indispensable to guaranty the national independence from hostile attack, but that it is the best force that can be employed to maintain internal tranquillity and order."-McCulloch's Geographical Dictionary-Art., British Empire. This is civil government with a vengeance. Yet we quote from the American edition, which professes to have been "adapted to the condition and wants of the United States." Does the learned editor think they want a great standing army?

period of the only successful struggle they ever made for freedom, as they are now, and would never have submitted to pay some forty millions of dollars annually, to maintain a great standing army in time of peace, to subjugate themselves. Ignorant as they may have been, they were wise enough to know that it is the very worst, the most pernicious and dangerous instrument, ever forged by the perverted ingenuity of man for his own subjection. They would never have stooped to carry on their shoulders a burden of forty additional millions, to keep up a great body of soldiers, whose principal business was to enforce laws they themselves deemed oppressive and unjust, disperse their meetings, called for the purpose of petitioning for a redress of grievances, and shoot them down like dogs, at the command of every petty officer, sanctioned by the authority of every petty magistrate.

However this may be, since the system of drawing drafts on posterity has become the settled policy of European governments, a fund can almost always be raised by placing the public credit in the market, for sale to the highest bidder, for the support of standing armies, and direct taxes are only required to pay the interest. It is the business of posterity, the great pack-horse of the world, to pay the principal, if it is ever paid. The great maxim of modern despotism is, that, in order to govern nations, it is necessary to make them slaves. The bayonet is found much more effectual than the defunct feeling of loyalty, in preserving "internal tranquillity and order," and that which, in ages of ignorance, was considered an instrument of national defence or aggrandizement, has become one of national oppression.

It cannot be denied that the bayonet is a most potent agent in repressing popular discontent; but inasmuch as all governments are supposed to be civil institutions intended expressly to restrain the domination of force, their dependence for support on force alone seems somewhat of a paradox, which can only be solved in two ways: either the people must be too ignorant, turbulent, and vicious, to be governed by laws, or their government so oppressive as not to deserve a voluntary obedience. But history teaches us by innumerable examples, that nothing is more common than for despotism to be pulled down through the same instrument by which it is sustained, and that thrones supported by hirelings are erected on a foundation of sand. Without resorting to the hackneyed example of the Prætorian Guards, the instances are so numerous that they constitute a general rule. There is scarcely anything more certain, than that he, who depends on force alone,