still would elsewhere be poured into the ears of the prince, is poured into those of the people."

The same system is pursued by all those who would arrive at, or remain in place and power: and what must be the consequence? that the straight-forward, honourable, upright man is rejected by the people, while the parasite, the adulator, the demagogue, who flatters their opinions, asserts their supremacy, and yields to their arbitrary demands, is the one selected by them for place and power. Thus do they demoralize each other; and it is not until a man has, by his abject submission to their will, in contradiction to his own judgment and knowledge, proved that he is unworthy of the selection which he courts, that he is permitted to obtain it. Thus it is that the most able and conscientious men in the States are almost unanimously rejected.

M. Tocqueville says, "It is a well-authenticated fact, that at the present day the most talented men in the United States are very rarely placed at the head of affairs; and it must be

acknowledged that such has been the result in proportion as democracy has outstepped all its former limits: the race of American statesmen has evidently dwindled most remarkably in the course of the last fifty years."

Indeed, no high-minded consistent man will now offer himself, and this is one cause among many why Englishmen and foreigners have not done real justice to the people of the United States. The scum is uppermost, and they do not see below it. The prudent, the enlightened, struc the wise, and the good, have all retired into the shade, preferring to pass a life of quiet retirement, rather than submit to the insolence and dictation of a mob.

M. Tocqueville says, "Whilst the natural propensities of democracy induce the people to reject the most distinguished citizens as its rulers, these individuals are no less apt to retire from a political career, in which it is almost im

possible to retain their independence, or to advance without degrading themselves."

Again, "At the present day the most affluent classes of society are so entirely removed from the direction of political affairs in the United States, that wealth, far from conferring a right to the exercise of power, is rather an obstacle than a means of attaining to it. The wealthy members of the community abandon the lists, through unwillingness to contend, and frequently to contend in vain, against the poorest. classes of their fellow-citizens. They concentrate all their enjoyments in the privacy of their homes, where they occupy a rank which cannot be assumed in public, and they constitute a private society in the State which has its own tastes and its own pleasures. They submit to this state of things as an irremediable evil, but they are careful not to shew that they are galled by its continuance. It is even not uncommon to hear them laud the delights of a republican govern

ment, and the advantages of democratic institutions, when they are in public. Next to hating their enemies, men are most inclined to flatter them. But beneath this artificial enthusiasm, and these obsequious attentions to the preponderating power, it is easy to perceive that the wealthy members of the community entertain a hearty distaste to the democratic institutions of their country. The populace is at once the object of their scorn and of their fears. If the maladministration of the democracy ever brings about a revolutionary crisis, and if monarchial constitutions ever become practicable in the United States, the truth of what I advance will become obvious."

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It appears, then, that the more respectable portion of its citizens have retired, leaving the arena open to those who are least worthy that the majority dictate, and scarcely any one ventures to oppose them; if any one does, he is immediately sacrificed; the press, obedient to

its masters, pours out its virulence, and it is incredible how rapidly a man, unless he be of a superior mind, falls into nothingness in the United States, when once he has dared to oppose the popular will. He is morally bemired, bespattered, and trod under foot, until he remains a lifeless carcase. He falls, never to rise again, unhonoured and unremembered.

Captain Hamilton, speaking to one of the federalist, or aristocratical party, received the following reply. I have received similar ones in more than fifty instances. "My opinions, and I believe those of the party to which I belonged, are unchanged; and the course of events in this country has been such as to impress only a deeper and more thorough conviction of their wisdom; but, in the present state of public feeling, we dare not express them. An individual professing such opinions would not only find himself excluded from every office of public trust within the scope of his reasonable ambi