ART. XV.-1. Construction construed, and Constitutions vindicated. By John Taylor, author of the Enquiry and Arator. Richmond, 1820, 8vo, pp. 344.

2. Observations on Public Principles and Characters, with reference to recent events. November, 1820, pp. 62.

EACH period of history has some topic of predominant interest, which indicates the prevailing spirit of the age. Certain words at different epochs are so frequently repeated that they become quite familiar, and appear in every page of contemporary annals, and then go out of use altogether except in history. Others rise up and mark the precedence of new ideas which are universally entertained in their turn, and give an impulse to all the movements of society. Carrying the banner of the cross against infidels, discovering new continents, and a new rout to India, papal bulls and excommunications had each their period of preeminence. Few in these days think much about excommunications, but when this term carried terror to the boldest minds, no use was made of another word, that is now of constant occurrence, and which is likely to go further and last longer, than any that has hitherto Occupied the thoughts of mankind. Constitution is the

watchword of the day; this began to come into use pretty freely about sixty years ago, and has ever since been repeated in various quarters, till it is at length in the mouths of every people, is uttered in all dialects from the harsher ones of the Teutonic nations, to the more flowing tongues of Spain and Italy, and is reechoed from every hill and valley in the civilized parts of the earth.

The present aspect of the world, we mean that part of it possessed by the European race, whether inhabiting the old continent or the new, is deeply interesting to the philosophic observer. Under considerable varieties of feature and complexion, it every where offers a sympathetic expression. If we elevate ourselves to take a bird's eye view of it, we shall discern on all sides the progress of amelioration or at least a struggle for it. We shall hear the same cry for a constitution, even by some who know not precisely what it means; we shall perceive a universal feeling for a representation, sometimes without the understanding how to originate or define it; we shall observe on all this vast theatre a practical demonstration, or a vague yet strong conviction, that men have certain rights, which they are nobler and happier for enjoying, and among

all these various nations and climes, an irksome consciousness of the impolicy, and a determined struggle against the spirit of monopoly, whether it exist in governments, religion, or commerce; the progress of this struggle commonly beginning against the first of these by those who are most enthralled, and terminating with the last, by those who are most enlightened, who of course have already emancipated themselves from tyranny under the two former.

At the same time we shall discover throughout this whole survey, the vain and pernicious efforts of all governments, except those in North America, to counteract the spirit of the age. This opposition of sovereigus exhibits various degrees of alertness and violence in resisting the progress of reform, but all of them resist it; all of them look at innovation on the part of their subjects with aversion, and suffer it with reluctance. Some of these are influenced only by the love of quiet, others are goaded by the thirst of power, whilst others are infatuated with the belief, that they can return to those times, when their subjects, habituated to acquiescence, were satisfied or discontented, as affairs were prosperous or otherwise, but without thinking that they had any responsibility, or any right of interference in either case. As to quiet, it is not the characteristic of an age of improvement, but so long as governments attempt to resist the feelings of the period in which they live, they must govern not only in a state of perpetual irritation, but run the risk of the most dreadful calamities, and eventual destruction. The means of inquiry are too widely diffused, the spirit of improvement is too strong to be stifled. Nulla vestigia retrorsum is the present motto of mankind; their views have all taken one direction; the impulse is more or less strong according to their knowledge, and if those who are at the head attempt to check its onward course, they will be borne down and trampled under foot.

* The famous declaration of a very distinguished member of the Massachusetts Peace Society to the Spanish Cortez, which must have been dictated in a phrenzy of arrogance or of fear, and was afterwards retracted, is one striking instance. A still more remarkable, though more temperate and detailed exposition of the views of the courts of Europe, may be found in the confidential letter of the Austrian Minister, Prince Metternich, to the Minister of the Grand Duke of Baden, and which was probably a circular to the German powers. This document, inserted in some of our papers (among others the Boston Daily Advertiser of Oct. 25, 1820) from the English ones, bears all the marks of authenticity, and develops perfectly the actual views of the sovereigns of Europe.

To understand this disagreement between ancient institutions and modern opinions, let us catch a hasty glance at their origin. The reader must not be alarmed if we take him some way back in chronology; we shall soon get through, we shall make but one step from the Appenines to the Alps, and from thence to the Pyrenees; having neither time nor inclination to lead him up and down the intermediate hills and vallies.-After the Roman empire was finally subverted, and arts and letters were buried in the ruins of its military power, its vast provinces became independent and began to govern themselves, in the deep obscurity of what are emphatically called the dark ages. All of them were barbarous, though in a different degree; the barbarity of some was of the kind which precedes civilization, that of others, the kind which follows its extinction. Each had its appropriate vices of ferocity or corruption. The fragments near the centre were, as might be expected, the most populous and the least extensive; some of them comprising only a walled city and a few gardens. These small states obtained nominally a republican form of government, which, imperfect as it was, procured them some distinction; yet in reality they were only the strongholds of factions, which did little more than vary the materials, that composed the anarchy of Europe. Society had two modifications. In Gaul, Britain, Lusitania, and Germany, the people were in the shepherd, or the first stages of the agricultural state; on the regulations of which had been engrafted a few customs and laws of the mistress of the world, while those provinces were held by her legions. In Italy the ruins of Roman jurisprudence and military civilization governed a people, enervated by luxury, fallen into decay and overrun by rude invaders, who brought many of their own rudest customs to patch the tattered robes of the imperial jurisdiction. The condition of Europe was thus composed on one side of warlike, ferocious tribes, under numerous chieftains, who had received some maxims and laws from their conquerors; and on the other, of an enervated, ruined people, vanquished in their turn, and forced to admit, with their new masters, many new customs. The cause of liberty was every way a loser. The privileges of Roman citizens, greatly diminished during the decline of the empire, were finally destroyed under Gothic invasion while the eager followers of the transalpine leaders were forced gradually to renounce the primitive equity and

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rude equality they had enjoyed at home, to become subservient to unmitigated military usurpation.

While the course of events thus led to the extension of universal servitude, the christian faith was making its steady progress over the ruins of paganism, destined to become eventually the great instrument of human freedom. But the simplicity of the apostolic era was gradually corrupted, and in the unhappy ages that followed, the purest of all religions was more and more perverted to accomplish the designs of worldly ambition. The shades of ignorance continued to grow deeper, till at length the light of knowledge was almost wholly extinguished, and its feeble rays glimmered only within the pale of the church. Though there was no longer any instruction, there still remained a difference of intellect among men, and all those, in whom mind predominated over animal force, were led to devote themselves to the service of the church; which was daily increasing in strength, deriving exclusive advantage from the general ignorance, violence, and slavery that prevailed, and laying the foundations with only spiritual means of the most singular and formidable power, that ever oppressed mankind.

The church and the modern states of Europe began their existence together in these obscure and disgraceful ages. The former organized by degrees her vast and complicated hierarchy, continually extended her possessions, and at length obtained, directly or indirectly, a sovereign sway over all Europe. The latter were formed amid continual wars, the weaker chief subdued by their more powerful rivals, till at length their princes accumulated sufficient power to cotroul the barons into a conditional submission, and thus laid the basis of the feudal system. All power was divided between the baron and the priest, while the peasant was the slave of both. A prince defended his subjects, as his property, employed them with as little consultation as he would his cattle, and held them in much the same consideration. Their minds were kept in absolute subjection, and their persons, property, and opinions, were all under the control of the clergy and nobility.

Trusting that the brevity of this sketch may be some offset for its triteness, we come to the inferences for which it was traced; that the present governments of Europe were founded in ages of ignorance and turbulence, without any participation

of the people; a class of mankind which, though rather numerous, became obsolete soon after the fall of the Roman republic, and did not again come into fashion, for some sixteen or seventeen centuries. The circumstances of society, the deplorable ruin and degradation into which it had fallen, did not perhaps admit of any better system, than the feudal and ecclesiastical dominion, which assumed the command. The leading principle of both was entire submission on the part of the rascal many' to their lay or clerical lords; who in return for this obedience did their utmost to guard them against the violence and injustice of all but themselves. As the feudal princes became confirmed in their power, they perfected its organization with a view to promote their own interest. What was usage, grew into regulation, and experience slowly accumulated a code of laws, and a system of administration. The object of both was exclusively to establish the authority and enlarge the power of the sovereign.* To extend these, the subjects were sometimes treated with indulgence and humanity, but even in more recent and comparatively enlightened periods, their prosperity was regarded with jealousy and apprehension; and at this day many governments are only reconciled to the acquisition of wealth by their subjects, through the ingenuity of their financiers, who cautiously avert the danger of its too rapid accumulation.

Aş instruction was increased in the slow advances towards greater tranquillity and civilization, its efforts were directed to surround every thing relating to government with mystery, and to exclude more effectually all, save the privileged classes, from any participation in it. Kings ruled by divine right. Birth decided station, without reference to talents or qualities. The laws were gradually more deeply hid under idle forms and endless tautology, and even their prayers were obliged to be said in a language the people did not understand. The whole science of government was directed to keeping the subject in a state of perpetual pupilage. They could neither sow nor reap, except what was permitted, and could not displace themselves from the spot where chance had

* A memorable example of the enduring influence of first causes may be seen in the history of the French and English parliaments; the former were called to extend the power of the sovereign, the latter for its restric tion; the first lessened the political weight of the barons, the latter increased it.