are wrested from them, if their sincerity and piety are called in question, if they are stigmatized as enemies to the truth and enemies to God, and held up as such to public scorn and indignation, that they should bear it without some feeling of resentment, and some expression of this feeling. In all such cases, it is obvious that those who causelessly and wantonly give the provocation, are responsible not only for the bad spirit which they manifest themselves, but also, in a degree, for the bad spirit which they awaken in others. Besides, when the controversy becomes one, not of speculative opinions merely, but of personal rights, the aggrieved party must look on the aggressor, not merely as in error, but as guilty of injustice and crime. Now even supposing that we can, and that we ought, to set aside altogether personal considerations, is it expected that we shall meet and repel what we believe to be injustice and crime, with the same feelings with which we should endeavour to reconcile an honest difference of opinion? At the same time, we believe that there is no party, as such, which is entirely without blame in this matter; and none which may not find much in these Letters 'profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.'

ART. IV. A Comparative View of the Social Life of England and France, from the Restoration of Charles the Second to the French Revolution. By the Editor of Madame du Deffand's Letters. London, 1828. 8vo.

THE work before us is a lively picture of the state of society in England and France during certain periods of their history, exhibited chiefly in the contrasts they present to each other. We have thought it might not be wholly without advantage to call the attention of our readers to the same subject in relation to our own country, and especially to our own Commonwealth. We do this with no desire to institute an invidious comparison with any other community, at home or abroad, but because the state of social life, or the spirit of society, as it is sometimes called, is every where, but espe

cially among a free people, one of the most powerful agents in forming the character and affecting the happiness of every individual. It is an important, because a practical subject, less imposing perhaps, less calculated for striking effect, but of more personal consequence than the mightier matters, which form the materials of national history, and become, by something of an artificial consequence, subjects of regular study and delight.

By social life we mean the ordinary intercourse of private individuals; the state, condition, habits, and manners by which that intercourse is regulated; the prevailing tone of thought, feeling, and affection; that atmosphere of opinion, as impalpable as the one we breathe, operating on the moral health and personal comfort of a community, as air does on the functions of animal life.

By doing so much for individual happiness, this social spirit does no little for the wider and more generous feelings of benevolence and philanthropy. Men are never better inclined to assist others, than when they are pleased with themselves. The rays of personal good feelings are constantly diverging, and a happy man is made more happy by cheering, and smiling, and brightening countenances around him.

We remember, indeed, the declaration of the poet,

'Non ignara mali, miseris succurrere disco';

but while past calamity has a tendency to soften the heart, present gratification and tranquillity raise a tide of affection, which naturally flows in kindness and good will.

We hope, indeed, that the exceptions are not many to this position, because the most obvious remark to be made in regard to our domestic society is its state of perfect security. When we consider what is the amount of all those public evils of which the most fretful among us complain, as affecting individuals in society, we must certainly admit that they are few in number and inconsiderable in amount. Our state of internal tranquillity is almost unprecedented in the history of mankind. We have no foreign enemies; the evils of war, the fears and anxiety which are inseparable from a state of hostility, are unknown to us. At home all is peaceable. There is no military array, no armed police, no domiciliary visitations. Crimes, which are calculated

to excite terror, are too rare among us to cause previous inquietude. Our people literally repose without any one to make them afraid. We do not mean to say that this fortunate condition of affairs does not produce the gratitude and sensibility that it ought; but we think, when the condition of mankind from the beginning of the Christian era is considered, that so much cause for gratitude has never been accorded to any other people. The general state of prosperity, the flourishing condition of the great establishments which give opportunity for profitable industry, and the unexampled prevalence of health, throughout the country, combine to increase the motives for a rational sentiment of joy. It is obvious, therefore, that the dangers to which our society is exposed, are not those of calamity, but prosperity; not of poverty, but affluence; not those which threaten in the whirlwind and the storm, against which we may arm ourselves with courage and resolution as against open and determined foes, but those which are generated in sunshine under a summer sky, more insidious and delusive as they come in the soft breeze which we court for its salubrity, and steal upon us in the lassitude of that indolence and ease, to which we surrender ourselves without apprehension.

The existence of a given state of society, which they who live in it may alter at their pleasure, implies a satisfaction which secures its continuance. But many of its institutions remain, not because they are approved, but because no one is bold enough to break through them. They are ancient, and have custom and familiarity on their side; and the risk of attacking them is too dangerous to be lightly essayed. We have no royal edict to change them, and no popular representation which has authority to reform them, and they continue by force of antiquity even against the inclination of an improved age.

Hence the spirit of society may not keep its appropriate place. It should do so. It should not be allowed to linger behind the improvements which learning and experience may introduce. It should be kept up to the expectations of an intelligent and educated people, and be made to advance the moral character and promote the happiness of the community.

Next to the general tranquillity, by which our society is distinguished, the most obvious appearance is its perfect

equality. No one class has any special immunities. Perhaps it might be more correct to say there is but one class Differences exist to be sure in wealth, talents, among us. education, taste, and by leisure for liberal or a necessity for laborious pursuits; but society has no distinctions in law, and no separation by caste. Every thing may be had by any body, who can acquire the means of procuring it; and the means are open to the efforts of each and all. These means are acquired too by chances and apparent accidents of extraordinary character, and the continuance of them beyond one or two generations of the same family is so efficiently prevented by our statute of distributions, that, though there are among us many rich men, and always will be so long as our prosperity continues, the class, as it exists in Europe, is here wholly unknown.

Privileges or possessions beyond what are bought and paid for are not only not possessed, but not even imagined; and those habits, manners, and inclinations, which distinguish a wealthy aristocracy, are absolutely, and we may say without any exception, unheard of. A class of men, living on their wealth and creating fictitious wants and desires which it is the occupation of other classes to supply, and marked from their fellow citizens, as a peerage of nabobs, has not yet been seen, and is not likely under our institutions ever to be seen in the United States. Our rich men have almost invariably something to do, in common with their fellow citizens. Without occupation, they would lose the respect of the community, and would get nothing in exchange for it. Their wealth is mingled with the common mass of the wealth of the people. It cannot be placed apart, and kept separate from the general fund. It must be and is exposed to all that agitates the community. The general prosperity of the country affects it; and in that general prosperity, therefore, our rich men are at least as much concerned as the laborer who toils for his daily subsistence. They cannot, if they would, separate themselves either in employment or amusement or inclinations from the body of the people. If an individual should have a different disposition, it would be impracticable to indulge it. No combination could be formed for such objects; and it was feelingly lamented by a gentleman of this description, that in Boston there was no place to do nothing, and nobody to help do it.

VOL. XI.

N. S. VOL. VI. NO. I.

10

Property, perhaps, in all countries, is in some degree connected with the general condition of the people, and is more or less secure, and more or less productive, as the community is prosperous or depressed; but in the monarchical governments of Europe, there is a vast amount of property in the hands of rich men, which is not affected, or but very little affected, in this way. The enormous debt of the English nation, the extravagant pension list, and exorbitant hierarchal establishment, supply a permanent and unchangeable class of rich men with an annual income, the payment of which, power enforces, at whatever cost to the people. If commerce languishes, or agriculture is depressed, or the manufacturers starve, still these great demands on the means of the people are regularly levied, and the very misery of those who suffer, adds to the value of the property of those who possess. And they do receive their entire amount whatever be the suffering of the laborers from whose anguish and wretchedness it is wrung. The affluence that grows out of commercial or manufacturing operations is raised by the exertions of multitudes, whom it feeds, clothes, nourishes, and instructs; while the disproportionate revenues raised for the support of oligarchical stipendiaries in taxes and gratuities, impoverishes one class for the grandeur and dignity of another. The effect too is continued beyond its immediately perceptible limits. By taking away one half the food of the laborer, it extends the circle of the poor, and multiplies a class of dependent and miserable men, whom the more active capitalists must employ, and can, and of course do employ at a cheaper rate. Where then enormous wealth is drawn from the people for sinecures and proud establishments, hierarchal magnificence and government patronage, the laborious and industrious members of the community, who pay the amount, will be oppressed; and being oppressed, they will be driven into pauperism and crime, and the circle will enlarge from time to time and take in greater numbers. The established inequality of the different portions of the community will grow wider, and proceed from bad to worse. The limit of suffering at length will be reached, and a mighty revolution will throw off the oppressive weight that can no longer be sustained, and could not be moved but with violence and convulsion.

We have included the public debt of a nation in the causes