human, they are liable to corporal suffering; but, like the wounded spirits in Milton, they will soon close,'' confounded, though immortal!'"

So little faith have we in the enlightenment of English juries, that we make some doubt whether they would not even condemn Milton himself of blasphemy, if an opportunity were to occur. Such questions as these are wholly beyond the intellectual capacity of the gross million, who can scarcely be expected to comprehend the subtle chain which connects together the mental experiences of a poet's progress to the perfection of wisdom and of beauty. Still less are they able to appreciate the truth, that all manly belief, if it be reasonable, must be preceded by doubt; which doubt in itself is far from being blameable, when employed in its legitimate object of promoting an investigation that cannot fail of convincing the sincere and the ingenuous. And doubt, as doubt, has no principle of life in it; it seeks restlessly to be merged in satisfaction and certainty. This struggle between the wish to believe, and the dread of believing, is often remarkably exhibited in the poems of Shelley; and lends to them much of that dreamy terror and spectral grandeur, which, at first, appals the student. Gradually, however, he grew stronger in faith; and emancipating himself from the clouds of phantasies which had before obscured the brightness of his genius, proved indeed to be one for whom admiration was too little-one for whom sympathy and love were demanded as a right. Contemplating the "chaos of contrarieties at war," of which Shelley was for so long a victim, we cannot forbear exclaiming, with Serjeant Talfourd,—

"Behold! Here is a spectacle which angels may admire and weep over! Here is a poet of fancy the most ethereal-feelings the most devout-charity the most Christian-enthralled by opinions the most cold, hollow, and debasing! Here is a youth endowed with that sensibility to the beautiful and the grand which peoples his minutes with the perceptions of years-who, with a spirit of self-sacrifice which the eldest Christianity might exult in if found in one of its martyrs, is ready to lay down that intellectual being-to be lost in loss itself-if by annihilation he could multiply the enjoyments and hasten the progress of his species-and yet, with strange wilfulness, rejecting that religion in form to which in essence he is imperishably allied! Observe these radiant fancies-pure and cold as frostwork— how would they be kindled by the warmth of Christian love! Track those thoughts that wander through eternity,' and think how they would repose in their proper home! And trace the inspired, yet erring youth, poem after poem-year after year, month after monthhow shall you see the icy fetters which encircle his genius gradually dissolve; the wreaths of mist ascend from his path; and the distance spread out before him peopled with human affections, and skirted by angel wings! See how this seeming atheist begins to adore-how the divine image of suffering and love presented at Calvary, never unfelt, begins to be seen-and in its contemplation the softened, not yet convinced, poet exclaims, in his Prometheus, of the followers of Christ

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The wise, the pure, the lofty, and the just,

Whom thy slaves hate-for being like to thee!'

And thus he proceeds-with light shining more and more towards the perfect day-which he was not permitted to realize in this world. As you trace this progress, alas! Death veils it-veils it, not stops itand this perturbed, imperfect, but glorious being is hidden from usTill the sea shall give up its dead!' What say you now to the book which exhibits this spectacle, and stops with this catastrophe ? Is it a libel on religion and God? Talk of proofs of Divine existence in the wonders of the material universe, there is nothing in any— nor in all-compared to the proof which this indicted volume conveys! What can the telescope disclose of worlds and suns and systems in the heavens above us, or the microscope detect in the descending scale of various life, endowed with a speech and a language like that with which Shelley, being dead, here speaks? Not even do the most serene productions of poets, whose faculties in this world have attained comparative harmony-strongly as they plead for the immortality of the mind which produced them-afford so unanswerable a proof of a life to come, as the mighty embryo which this book exhibits;-as the course, the frailty, the imperfection, with the dark curtain dropped on all! It is, indeed, when best surveyed, but the infancy of an eternal being; an infancy wayward but gigantic; an infancy which we shall never fully understand, till we behold its developement when time shall be no more'-when doubt shall be dissolved in vision-' when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and when this mortal shall have put on immortality!'"

The whole history of this prosecution is worthy of serious consideration. Mr. Hetherington, who had himself been prosecuted to conviction for an alleged libel on the Old Testament, by thus, in his turn, becoming the accuser of Mr. Moxon, retaliates his sentence on a man, by whom, in the words of Serjeant Talfourd, "he was never wronged, even in thought." If this kind of revenge is to be allowed, the boasted freedom of our literature is at an end. A censorship, at once irregular and irresponsible, will be erected; which every literary man ought to protest against, and do his utmost to destroy. The extent of oppression which it may originate is incalculable. As Serjeant Talfourd remarks, the publishers of Shakspere, Ben Jonson, Fletcher, Massinger, and Ford, together with all who have sold a Horace, or Virgil, or Lucretius, or Ovid, or Juvenal, will be placed at the mercy of any "insect abuser of the press," who may think himself aggrieved by a law which defeats his endeavours to profit by lasciviousness. Although the classic elegance of Serjeant Talfourd's oratory has failed to protect Mr. Moxon from a conviction which will be an honour to him rather than otherwise, yet do we hope that it will have the beneficial effect of directing public attention to the defects of the law, under which he has been so unjustly made to suffer. Might not the right of setting it in action be restricted to the Attorney-General? Such a restriction would at once preserve men like Mr. Moxon from attacks so unprovoked and so unchristian; and place quite a sufficient check on the penny retailers of sedition and infidelity. We recommend this suggestion to the learned Serjeant, who, by his praiseworthy and strenuous exertions on the copyright question, has already been so endeared to the great body of British authors.

THE COURT, THE COUNTRY, AND SIR ROBERT PEEL.

We put aside for a brief period our more philosophical abstract speculations, to consider specifically the phenomena of the political world, over which a great change has lately passed. When we last looked at

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it, Lord Palmerston and M. Thiers were squabbling about the Eastern Question, which, nevertheless, we plainly perceived that Providence was settling in its own way; and, accordingly, as our manner is, we transcended the field of petty strife, and dared believe in a divine purpose, beyond, above, and before it,-which would at no distant date, be feebly imaged in some compromise necessarily to be effected between the antagonist parties. One thing to us was clear and certain, that England occupied a mid point between extreme opposites, and that, whatever ministry we might serve under, the policy of this country could be none other than CONSERVATIVE.

Political events have since occurred, but we have not even noticed them-for we knew that they were and could be only of an accidental, not an essential, character. They were but chaotic spasms during a transitional interval, of little moment in themselves, except as occupying a period, the close of which would be marked by a great alteration in the face of affairs. Corn laws and sugar duties are only the apparent, not the real questions at issue. The real question is, whether Conservatism or Revolution should command the issues of political life, and "rain down influence" on the state of society. This question has been tried by the recent elections, and the answer has been given. The spirit of the country is expressly Conservative.

But what is Conservatism? The importance of this question is exceedingly weighty. Mistakes are made on this head which fatally vex every argument on political subjects. It is generally supposed that it is some extreme opinion; none, however, but careless observers, to say nothing of shallow thinkers, can possibly be misled by this notion. Conservatism, we repeat, is not, and never was, an extreme opinion. We recollect well the word being first used in the Quarterly Review, in an article by our dear friend and helper, the laureated Southey; and from that time dated a change in the aspect and relations of political events. Toryism, no doubt, was an extreme opinion Whiggism, no doubt, is an extreme opinion-and the latter is still

N. S.-VOL. VI.

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further distant from the point of Toryism than ever it was. It has been compelled to make concessions to Radicalism, and even to Chartism, which separate it altogether by an immense distance from everything that holds as a principle the permanence of existing institutions, whatever reforms may be desired in the old, and whatever new establishments may be requisite. Now Conservatism occupies a midposition between one extreme opinion and the other, and, in fact, has all along endeavoured to reconcile both; conceding to the one that all abuses should be removed, but maintaining, with the other, that the institutions themselves should be held sacred. Take one instance; the great question of education. Whatever Toryism might have done, Conservatism concedes the desirability of educating the masses,-and that, we believe, after a more generous and complete fashion than ever entered into the imagination of a democrat; but it maintains that the clergy of the Established Church have the right to the conduct and surveillance of the education proposed. The Whigs, however, say "No" to this. "We would," they exclaim, " rather have no education at all, than that the clergy should be intrusted with it. Our object is to supersede them by other instructors; and therefore the task of educating the people must be taken out of their hands and placed in others. Now, of course, this is a monstrous proposition, so long as an Established Church exists, and will never be granted by its clergy willingly, however they may be forced into compliance. From the moment of their being so forced, the death-knell of the Establishment is sounded, and nothing will be left but decently to bury it. So long, however, as the clergy of the Church of England maintain a superiority of intelligence, learning, and piety, such an event is impossible. A faction may be arrayed against them; but the heart of the people will be with them. The only thing in which they are now deficient is in the important article of philosophy, as distinguished from and superior to science of this they may have little; we wish they had more; but the leaders of dissent have none at all.

One of Sir Robert Peel's statements in his election speech at Tamworth may be taken in corroboration of the above argument. Our readers will recollect that he defined himself as holding the opinions of moderate men of all parties. Here we discover him declaring the very synthesis for which we contend. He is prepared to do whatever may be required in the way of reform, but at the same time he is determined to preserve the institutions themselves which may require it.

There was never any doubt in the minds of reflecting men, that the spirit of the country was in favour of this view of public affairs. However desirous of reform intelligent persons might be wherever defect was obvious, they had little wish for the subversion of the existing order of things. They saw not the wisdom of pulling down a house that only needed repair; and did see well enough the folly of demolition, before they were provided with another dwelling, whether for temporary or permanent residence. Or say another were provided, what was the hovel of dissent in comparison with the national temple they were called upon to desert? or what the vague interests of speculative economists contrasted with those existing and tangible shapes of property which were the established bulwarks of those social

arrangements under which men had lived for centuries in security and progressive improvement? Even the Chartists were conservative for all present time, and were only reformers of the future; and refused to meddle with the Corn Laws until they should obtain the demands of their Charter. And soon it appeared that both the higher and the lower classes of society had one and the same interest; there only remained the middle class to be reconciled-a class which exists by oppressing one order, and defrauding the other to the utmost possible amount; and which feels accordingly the necessity of reform, because it wants itself reformation.

This was sometime a paradox, but it is now the clearest of positions. The felt want of reformation in itself, which impels the middle class to seek abroad for the reformation which should be found at home, is in harmony with the deepest principles of human nature. It is what every man does who feels himself in an evil state; he refers it to external circumstances, instead of his own internal condition: that man, accordingly, sets himself up invariably as a reformer both of Church and State. If he be a bad man, it is, of course, the fault of the parson and the magistrate-it cannot be his own-and, therefore, their corruptions must be rooted out, in order that he may become, if not a better, yet a happier man.

This is a providential arrangement, for with this class of society all reform movements must originate. Were there not the internal mo tive, there would not be the external sign of it—and the external sign is needed as an impulsive occasion to initiate improvements in the mere social condition of man, not in one point alone, but in all. It performed, therefore, one of its legitimate purposes when it demanded amendment in the representative orders-but it neglected another, when it declined inquiry into its own state and short comings.

The Chartists, however, have not been slow in detecting the evil. They have fixed on the middle classes as the enemies of the operative order. The middle classes are the proprietors of labour-directors of its energies, and distributors of its produce. Now, these are precisely the particulars in which reform at the present time is needed. It is needed that no longer the labourer should be sacrificed to the proprietor's cupidity-it is needed that labour should no longer be misdirected by the proprietor's caprice or folly-it is needed that its benefits should no longer be monopolized by any one or more classes to the exclusion of others; or that they should be impeded in their transit by the misarrangements of the middle-man. Were these necessities duly provided for, the evils of society would cease; the labourer would be fully employed; the results of his labour would be profitable; and the application and distributions of those results would provide for the food, clothing, and lodging of the entire family of

men.

The realization of these beneficial effects is dependent on the perception and practical demonstration of an IDEA in its ultimate consequences;- -an idea which is either a LAW or the CORRELATIVE of a law. It is this, that the end of all social and individual working should no longer be directed for the advantage only of the Few or Many, but of the One in All, or the All in One. It has been remarked,