Conduct of the English Journals.

The interval between the first faint suspicion of the altered position of this country, and the full perception of it, was not great, but it was enough to allow the interest and curiosity previously felt in the future of France to give way to an intense and absorbing anxiety respecting the future of England. The short, quick, telegraphic dispatches were now scanned from hour to hour, with an eagerness full of painful meaning. A common view of the matter was occasionally expressed in this way-"He must go somewhere, and what so likely as to come here?" The visions suggested to the imagination by the idea of "coming here" were sufficiently disagreeable—a violent disturbance of industry, of which credit is the mainspring and security the condition, being only one feature in a picture which included still darker traits, in the images of such personal licence as might be feared from troops hardened in the wars of Africa. Meanwhile, opinions continued to be pronounced upon the pregnant deed which had produced such a momentous change. Those who at first had rejoiced only to see democracy crushed, were sobered by the thought that England had now peril to apprehend with which no form of continental democracy had ever threatened her. They would gladly have protected her by strengthening the national defences, if that could be done in silence, but it could not be done in silence, and they were tempted to think that it was better to deprecate than to brave the danger. Above all, nothing seemed so desirable as to refrain from irritating criticisms upon the new French government. But the feelings of the mass of the English people were different. They went on as before, calling things by their old names, seeing the danger indeed plainly enough, but condemning tyranny and bad faith as heartily as ever; and, above all, loudly execrating the reckless violence which had stained the streets of Paris with so much innocent blood. At the same time, the journals, as usual, were in the main true representatives of the popular sentiment,

those accustomed to take the lead being clear and emphatic in their reprobation both of the coup d'état and of the wholesale and unscrupulous cruelties employed to sustain it. The conduct of one great journal in particular, which, whether for good or evil, is heard throughout Europe as the voice of the English people, then gave rise to a situation which for solemn tragic interest has never been surpassed. The loud tumult of popular discussion in France had been suddenly succeeded by a mournful calm. In all other parts of the Continent the press was dumb. The nominal independence of Switzerland and Belgium did not allow a murmur to be heard from either. The danger to England seemed to become daily clearer, and as it did so the invectives of the Times against him who was most to be feared grew bolder and more unsparing. The freedom, or it may be the licence, of the tribunate was strained to the last pitch of daring, just then when every motive of mere selfish prudence would have counselled moderation. But it was impossible not to feel that, in that just and eloquent indignation which was then poured upon the head of the Usurper in the midst of the awful silence of Europe, and while the countless bayonets of France were pointing to these helpless shores, the old heroic soul of England did indeed speak out. In that flashed forth the fire of the same tameless race that faced the odds at Cressy, and that would still oppose a naked breast, if nothing else, to the steel of an invader.

Alarm at the Conduct of the Times.

Yet there were men in England, men of rank, and weight, and worth, who had not even a trembling sympathy with that effective vindication of the national honour'. They saw in it

Having, with the knowledge of many, repeatedly written and spoken in condemnation of the conduct of the Times in other matters, I am prepared for the misconstruction to which the above remarks may lead. But the fact is memorable in English history, and could not be omitted. I will further say of the Times generally, that upon some economical questions-such as the Poor Law and the Factory Bill

nothing but imprudence-the very madness of imprudence. "It must provoke the vengeance of the great French ruler. Could it not be stopped, or in some way kept within bounds? A man with four hundred thousand soldiers at his back, all standing like greyhounds in the slips, will not remain patient under a series of such galling insults. To go on so was to invite invasion." Perhaps this was a mistake. There are times when hardihood is the highest prudence. But, prudent or imprudent, the fulminations continued to peal through the thick dark atmosphere, and those who would have checked them, but were unable, could only indulge in gloomy prognostications of the issue. In the midst of the anxiety which was then shown by many to consult the national safety by the surrender of the ancient privilege of free speech, a thought occurred to one observer, which to him at least was new, and was not consoling. It was a doubt as to whether the old theory, that all nations have their periods of youth, maturity, and decline, was not to have a further and greater illustration than any previous one, and whether the meridian glory of England did not already belong to the past. What did these fears, this prudence mean? Is the wealth, or the liberty, or the life of the individual to be purchased by the surrender of all that makes life noble? If not, can it be right for men as a nation to do that which each severally would reject as base? Besides, this prudential recommendation to truckle to a foreign power was something new in England. It was a change. Was it an advance? Such was the form which the doubt assumed, soon, however, to give way to the conclusion that this low-thoughted prudence was not chargeable to the nation at large, and that those by whom it had been ma

I passed harsh judgments on that journal in former times, which probably had quite as much error in them as the articles by which they were called forth. On the other hand, the Times still appears to me to be deeply responsible for the abuse of its great power with regard to Italy and Hungary; and the amount of mischief which its articles of former years produced in Ireland is incalculable. If it had more resolutely pushed and made successful the effort to exempt Ireland from the absurd AntiPapal Bill, there would have been a service of some weight to set off against those old injuries.

nifested had had their clearer perceptions blinded by the falsethe utterly false-position in which a short-sighted economy had left the country in reference to its means of defence. The bravest men may be brought to a pause when they find that the superiority of force against them is overwhelming; and it must be acknowledged that the adoption of any measure calculated to provoke a war with France, at the commencement of the present year, did seem the extremity of rashness. Public men, as usual, put the best face on the matter, but it is idle now to conceal, and would be foolish to forget, what was then believed, namely, that both humiliation and injury might have been inflicted upon England, if the means of annoyance existing on the other side of the channel had been fully employed against her.

Now, it is not right that men of influence in England, whether statesmen or journalists, should be thus not so much tempted as compelled to consider, upon every great national exigency, whether it is safe to be honest; whether they may venture to speak their minds; whether first one and then another of the ancient English privileges must not be surrendered, until there will be left only the materials of animal enjoyment, to be held upon the tenure of a slavish silence. The means of protection ought to bear some proportion to the worth of those treasures, not only material but intellectual and moral, which are now borne in England, as in an ark, through the deluge that has spread ruin over Europe.

Commerce and Missions.

Let us look for a moment, on grounds of narrow calculation, at some of the risks which may be incurred. British interests and British subjects are scattered literally over all parts of the globe. They go everywhere, and everywhere the flag of England, visibly or invisibly, floats over their heads. The old talisman of Roman citizenship did not encircle its possessors with a more perfect panoply, than that with which the name

of Englishman has been wont to invest those who could lay claim to it. I say this has been the case, because there appear more of those ominous signs, which have been frequent of late, that this charm is passing away. Upon what, however, has it depended? Plainly upon the belief, wide-spread even amongst barbarous tribes, that England, at the centre of her power and life, is sensitive to every rude touch which the most distant member of her social organization may encounter; that she will feel the wrong, however remote, where wrong is done, and not merely feel it, but that she CAN and WILL redress it. This alone renders possible and safe the immense extension and complexity of the foreign mercantile transactions of England, for all these are perpetually leading to collisions with strangers, in which passions are excited, and in which not only loss of property, but loss of life, would be a familiar occurrence, but for the magical protecting shield which that distant Downing Street, in spite of all its defects, does or did for a long time contrive to throw over every British subject.

But does this power exist for commerce alone? What is to be said of the scarcely less wide-spread system of English Christian missions? nay, indeed, of American Christian missions also?-for here the splendour of a more happy future is reflected upon the darkness of our present sad disunion, from the fact, well-known to all readers of missionary records, that in the work of Christianizing the heathen by those who speak the English tongue, the bonds of nationality give way to a nobler union; and that English and American missionaries are found habitually to take refuge from danger under the same flag; feeling equally at home, whether it be the royal standard of England, or the star-spangled banner of the Great Republic. It is true, indeed, according to my belief, that a Divine power watches over and will always preserve whatever is not of purely human origin in the Christian faith; but the safety and freedom, and much even of the efficiency of its teachers, are still left, like other privileges, dependent on human vigilance and effort. St. Paul did not disdain to employ all the civic advan