of society. For if these opinions, however well sustained, are paradoxes confined to the individual who utters them, they fall as harmless in the middle of sixteen millions of people, as they would do in a private party of three or four. Nor is it the sentiment of A. the editor of one newspaper, or of B. the editor of another, which controuls the course of government. These men are little if at all known: with one or two exceptions their names are never mentioned. It is their skill in embodying in a daily journal the feelings, and the reasonings which come home to the business and the bosoms of large portions of their countrymen, that obtains for their writings fame and general acceptance. But it would be vain for these persons to endeavour to make the people discontented with laws which they loved, and a minister whom they revered. They would not be dreaded, nor even read. Equally vain would it be for a vicious, oppressive, and odious government to suppress the liberty of printing. It was not the press which overturned Charles I., nor could the Inquisition preserve to Ferdinand VII. his despotic power. The dark cabal, the secret conspirator, the sudden tumult,

the solitary assassin, may all be found where the liberty of printing has never existed. And were a government to suppress it where it does exist, without taking away the matter of sedition, more crime and less security would probably be the result of their foolish panic, and powerless precaution.

In looking at the celebrated governments of antiquity, and those of modern times which have not admitted a free press, it must strike every one that they have declined, not from any vice inherent in the institutions by which they were governed, but by the gradual decay of national virtue, and the corruption of the people themselves, as well as of their leaders. In Sparta, and in Rome, this corruption may, in the beginning, be attributed to an influx of wealth ácting upon a nation whose liberties and whose morals were founded upon poverty and the contempt of riches. But the precipitate fall of a state, like that of Rome, into an abyss of profligacy and venality, can only happen when the whole people, stained by political and moral vices, are delivered from a sense of shame, by the want of any effectual restraint

upon their actions. In both these circunistances, England has the advantage of Rome. Her institutions are not founded on the postulate that her manners must be rude, and

her legislators poor. Commerce, and industry of every kind have been favourites of the law from the commencement. Nor is it easy to emancipate our rulers or our elective body from the sense of shame. Their actions are not submitted to the opinions of a single city, but scanned publicly by sixteen millions of people, nay, by Europe, by America, by the whole globe. The nation itself is too numerous to be generally seduced by the officers of the crown. In a village of one hundred householders, two, or perhaps four, may be gained by governmentinfluence, but the other ninety-six are free to choose their politics and their newspaper. could any anonymous writer venture to appeal to any but the good principles of our nature. No one has yet seen the newspaper or pamphlet which openly defends the venality of judges, or the infliction of torture, any more than the tragedy which holds up cowardice to our admiration, or endeavours to make envy amiable

Nor

in our eyes. their studies.*

Even the worst men love virtue in

In ordinary times, it is evident the exercise of this censorship must be beneficial to the country. No statesman can hope that his corrupt practices, his jobs, his obliquities, his tergiversations, can escape from a vigilance that never slumbers, and an industry that never wearies. Nor is it an important obstacle to truth, that the daily newspapers are the advocates of party, rather than searchers after truth. The nation, after hearing both sides, may decide between them. Neither are the advantages to be derived from publicity merely speculative. We see instances of them every day. One of the most remarkable effects of public opinion that can be quoted is, perhaps, the personal integrity of our

* The only resemblance to this influence of public opinion is to be found in the censorship at Rome. Montesquieu says of it,"Il faut que je parle d'une magistrature qui contribua beaucoup a maintenir le gouvernement de Rome: ce fut celle des censeurs. Ils corrigeoient les abus que la loi n'avoit prévus, ou que le magistrat ordinaire ne pouvoit pas punir. Il y a de mauvais exemples que sont pires que les crimes; et plus d'états ont péri parcequ'on a violé les mœurs que parcequ'on a violé les lois." But the censors were men; and men at length disregarded them,

statesmen with respect to money. In the time of Charles II., and a long time afterwards, the greatest men in the country were not inaccessible to what, in these days, we should call bribery. In the time of Lord North, many members of Parliament were influenced by money in its most gross and palpable shape. In these days, (however the same influence may prevail in another form,) it is impossible not to allow that there is much more personal delicacy, and, I will add, a higher sense of honour. Thus, instead of growing more corrupt, as states have always done before, the nation generally contains more political honesty than ever. Even in the House of Commons, where there are still seventy members holding places, there are one hundred and thirty fewer placemen than in the reign of George I.

The greatest benefit, however, that we derive from publicity, is, that it corrects and neutralizes the vices of our institutions, even when they are not immediately amended by it. Thus, to come at once to the greatest instance of this; the House of Commons is at present so composed, that were it shut up, and admitted