The American Quarterly Review, No. 18, June 1831 (Vol 9)

by Various

Look at the great rival of France on the opposite side of the channel. The same mighty evils are at work there—discontent aggravated by hunger. At the moment we are writing, a question is depending in the Parliament of England, which agitates the island to its centre, and the decision of which, either one way or other, is acknowledged by both parties to amount to the signal of a revolution. The opponents of the Bill of Reform maintain, that, if carried, it will destroy the basis of the government; and the advocates assert, that, if not carried, it will produce a revolution, originating in the disappointment and indignation of the people.

Will the aristocracy of England—the most wealthy and powerful aristocracy in the world—voluntarily, and without a mighty struggle, divest themselves of one of their chief sources of power in the state. Will they sacrifice their parliamentary influence, which constitutes one of the regular modes and means of providing for younger sons and poor relations? Nay, which enables them to dictate to their sovereign? We believe not. Will the people remain quiet under the disappointment of their newborn hopes, aggravated as it will be by poverty and distress, among so large a number? Perhaps they will, so long as there is an army of sixty or eighty thousand men, disposed so happily for the protection of order in the United Kingdom, that every breath of discontent is met by a bayonet. But let the monarchs who maintain order in Europe, by means of standing armies, recollect the lesson of history, which teaches us, that throughout all ages, and countries, the power which sustained the throne by force, in the end by force overthrew it. There is but one solid permanent support of power, and that is, the attachment of the people.

In the present state of Europe, we incline to the opinion that the safest course for kings to take, would be to identify themselves with the people, and become the organs of their wishes. We see no other means for the present King of England to make head successfully against the weight of the opposition of the church and nobility, in case he decisively sustains the present ministry in their plans of parliamentary reform, than to make common cause with his people, and say to them honestly, "I have become your champion, do you become my supporters." The government of England is acknowledged on all hands to be a mixed government of king, lords, and commons. Who represents the commons of England? The House of Commons. But can it do this effectually, while a large portion of the members are returned by the House of Lords? We should think not. The spirit and purity of the system can only be preserved by the commons, and the commons alone, selecting their representatives in their own house, and not the nobility. Does the House of Commons interfere in the same way in the creation of the members of the House of Lords? They have no voice or influence in the business. Why, then, should the House of Lords interfere in the election, or appointment rather, of the members of the House of Commons? In this point of view, therefore, we can perceive no sort of foundation for the argument of the opponents of reform, that the measure will operate to destroy the balance of the government. We rather think it will restore the balance, and bring it back to the true old theory of three distinct powers—king, lords, and commons.

We believe that the people will be satisfied with this reform for a time, if it take place. When they shall see, as no doubt they will see, that the burthens of the state, and consequently their own, remain the same, or perhaps increase with the increase of those who require relief, and the decrease of those who are able to bestow it; when they shall find that a reform in Parliament will not give them liberal wages, or feed their suffering families, then will they become more dissatisfied than ever. Then, too, will the result disclose where the shoe of reform pinched the opponents of reform. The increased representation of the people will then enable the people to make themselves heard and felt, and to force the government into measures that may indeed destroy the constitution of England, if there be any such invisible being. Whichever way we look, therefore, we perceive the same causes of discontent, the same spirit of emancipation at work, that agitates the continent of Europe; and so long as this state of things continues, it requires no spirit of prophecy to predict, that England, so far from advancing in power or intelligence, will, in all probability, invincibly slide from the summit of power, and become the victim of internal weakness at last.

The state of Holland and Belgium, of Italy and Germany, and Russia and Prussia, and Spain and Poland, is still more unfavourable to arts, science, commerce, literature, and agriculture. The rulers are employed in schemes for keeping the people in subjugation, and the people in wresting the promised privileges from their rulers. In such a state of things, the one party has no time to devise schemes for enriching or enlightening the people, but is employed, on the contrary, in placing them, as far as possible, in ignorance and poverty. The other is so taken up with politics, that its habits of economy, steadiness, and enterprise, are forgotten by degrees in the whirlpool of turbulent excitement. Each and all of these countries, with the exception perhaps of Russia, instead of advancing, will gradually recede in wealth and intelligence, not only from internal dissensions, but on account of the large portion of both, that will from time to time, as long as this state of things shall last, direct its course to the new world.

The change from old to new times; from the inapplicable maxims of the past, to the practical truths of the present, has, every where, and in all past ages, been a period of suffering to the human race. The approaches to this state of regeneration, are marked by turbulent disaffection on one hand, inflexible severity on the other; its progress is marked by the dissolution of the social ties, and its crisis with blood and tears. The people have to encounter the most formidable difficulties, under which they probably sink many times, before they rise at last and make the great successive effort. These evils are aggravated and perpetuated as long as possible, by the stern inflexible rigidity of old-established institutions, worthless in proportion to their obstinacy, aided by the blind besotted pride of kings, who seem never to have learnt the lesson of yielding to the changes produced by time and circumstance, and sacrificing gracefully, what will otherwise be taken from them by force.

But all that is great, or good, or valuable, in this world, must be attained by labour, perseverance, courage, and integrity. Liberty is too valuable a blessing to be gained or preserved without the exercise of these great virtues. It must have its victims, and its charter must be sealed with blood. A people afraid of a bayonet, are not likely to be free while Europe swarms with standing armies, having little or no community of interests or feeling with those who maintain them by the sweat of their brow. When the oppressed states of Switzerland, sent forth patriots who made a breach in the forest of German bayonets opposed to them, by circling them in their arms, and receiving them into their bosoms, they deserved to be free—they became free, and their liberties are still preserved. But so long as a host often thousand brawling and hungry malcontents, can be quieted and dispersed by the sound of a bugle, the clattering of a horse's hoofs, or the glittering of a musket barrel, can such people expect to be free? Assuredly not, we think. No where will despotism or aristocracy peaceably resign their long established preponderance without a struggle, and like our own revolution, the contest will at last come to the crisis—"we must fight, Mr. Speaker, we must fight," as said the intrepid Patrick Henry,—and we did fight. So must Europe if it expects emancipation. All the governments of that quarter of the globe, are now sustained by a military force—and by force only can they be overthrown or modified, to suit the great changes which have taken place in the feelings and relative situation of the different orders of society.

That the present state and future prospects of that renowned and illustrious quarter of the globe, are ominous of a continued succession of storms and troubles, we think appears too obvious. The night that is approaching, will be long and dark, in all human probability—it may end in a total regeneration—in a confirmed and inflexible despotism; or in that precise state of things which characterized what are called, the dark ages of Europe—in the establishment of a hundred petty states, governed by a hundred petty tyrants, eternally at variance, and agreeing in nothing but in oppressing the people. Great standing armies are at present the conservators of the great powers of Europe, and public sentiment is no longer the sole or principal cement of empires; when these are gone, as they must be, ere the nations which they oppress can be free, then all the little sectional and provincial jealousies and antipathies, every real or imaginary opposition of interests, and even feelings of personal rivalry, will have an opportunity of coming into full play, and the result may very probably be, the erection of a vast many petty states, which will never be brought to act together in any great system of policy. Thus situated, they will never be able to make head against the growing power of the vast states of the new world, which whatever may be their minor causes of difference, will naturally unite in those views of commercial policy, which being common to all, will be sought by a common effort.

The South American states, it is true, have not yet realized the blessings of emancipation, partly owing to their inexperience in the practical secrets of civil liberty; partly to the want of public virtue in the people, and their rulers, and partly, as we are much inclined to suspect, to the secret intrigues of more than one European power. But their natural and inevitable tendency is, we believe, towards a stable government, combining a complete independence of foreign powers, with such a portion of civil liberty as may suit their present circumstances and situation. They are serving their apprenticeship—they will soon be out of their time, and may safely set up for themselves.

But, however doubtful may be the final result of the great struggle between the kings and the people—or of the aristocracy and the people—for this seems to be the real struggle after all—whatever may be its final result, one thing is certain as fate. While it continues, it must inevitably arrest the prosperity of Europe, such as it is, and force it to retrograde for a time. Instead of devoting their attention to the interests of the nation abroad, and encouraging the industry and intelligence of the people at home, kings will be employed in watching and restraining their subjects. Fearing the intelligence and wealth, as the means of increasing their discontents as well as their power, they will seek to diminish both by new restraints or new exactions; and thus the best ends of government will be perverted to purposes of ignorance and oppression. This is the history of the degradation, and consequent internal weakness of all nations, and a perseverance in such a course in Europe, will only afford another example, that the same effects proceed from similar causes, every where, and at all times.