nufacturing towns, once so full of liveliness and activity, from which, as the stranger passed, he heard the continual buzz of the winding-wheel, or the clack of the loom, mingled with the cheerful song of mothers to their little children, are still crowded in deed, but the cheerfulness is gone. It makes the heart bleed to think of the wretchedness which is suffered. It is not merely the privation of ordinary necessaries and comforts-the receiving from the hands of cold, calculating, and not unfrequently insulting, parish officers, the pittance which preserves their wretched existence; but all the kindly affections which made up the happiness of the lives of the poor, are withered and blasted by this extreme penury, which makes a man's wife and children a curse instead of a blessing to him. The bread which they eat is taking so much from that which the cravings of nature demand for himself, and though a man may refrain, and deny himself, that his little ones may have their morsel, yet stern nature will have her way; he feels " all the vulture in his jaws," and almost wishes they were dead, that they might no longer eat.

This is no exaggerated picture; and though in some few favoured places it may apply rather to those who are an exception to the general condition, than to the rest; yet it is but too notorious, that the ordinary condition of multitudes of the poor, in both agricultural and manufacturing counties, in Bedford and Suffolk, Lancashire and Yorkshire, is of that melancholy nature we have attempted to describe.

But while so much misery exists among the poor, there never was a time in which the luxury of the rich was carried to a more extravagant degree of wantonness.

Never was pleasure hunted after with more curious zeal and more lavish expense; never did the provinces of England, taking them altogether, suffer more pinching distress and misery, than they have done during "the season," as it is called in London, which has just closed; and never did the me tropolis present a more splendid and dazzling succession of extravagant entertainments, where every thing that art could invent, and expense procure, to delight and pamper the senses, was

brought forward, than it did during the very same period. The Economist will perhaps sneeringly say, that nothing but ignorance of the science which he delights to honour, could cause us to look with any regret upon this luxurious expenditure, since it promoted the various kinds of industry which the furnishing of those entertainments required. Now, we know very well, that it is oftentimes extremely difficult to answer these general theories, which, embracing the whole concerns of the nation, and not being confined to any limited portion of time, are difficult of investigation by reason of their vastness and generality; but we hold it to be a very poor defence of those who have the means of doing an obvious, present, and practical good, and who refrain from it, that, upon scientific and general principles, and with reference to a century of time, and the whole extent of the nation, or of the world, they do as much good by pampering themselves with luxuries, as by relieving the present necessities of the poor and the afflicted. We do not deny that some benefit is derived, even by the labouring classes, from such expenditure; but we do deny that it promotes immediately, as much as such expenditure might promote, the comforts of the unhappy beings who have no inheritance but their limbs wherewith they labour; and this it is, which, in the present state of things, ought to be consulted. If a man have an estate in Bedfordshire, upon which the people are extremely miserable, it is not for him to calculate upon the good or evil which Europe may derive fifty years hence, from what he is now doing, but to take every means within his power to relieve the present distress. It is enough to chafe the temper of the mildest man, to hear a cold-blooded philosopher of the present day, arguing that it is wrong to promote the comforts of the poor, for this will" operate as an impulse to population," and so make their distress the greater hereafter. The scorn and abhorrence which the propounding of such a doctrine as this must excite in any breast of common benevo⚫ lence, is such, that one cannot condescend to argue with the propounders of it, although they form a very numerous and talkative class. We appeal against them to nature and reli

gion; and if they, as probably they may, deny any deference to these authorities, we must only leave them with honest indignation and contempt, to the enjoyment of their scientific rhetoric,

“Which hath so well been taught its daz zling fence."

But let us look at the matter of fact and its attendant circumstances, the immediate application of which we can distinctly see, and, without any aid from science, sufficiently under stand. The man who gives two or three thousand pounds to some fashionable pastry-cook, and decorator of tables, for one night's luxurious entertainment, while many families around him are miserably in want of the barest necessaries of life, could unquestionably apply the money otherwise if he pleased. Now, will it be denied that he would have done more wisely and better, more for his country's benefit, and for the promotion of the happiness of his fellow-creatures, and therefore more for his own hap piness, supposing he were a good man, if, instead of spending his money as we have described, he had spent it in obtaining a small portion of ground and a cow for some of the labouring poor in his neighbourhood?

We hope we shall not be considered as trifling with a great question, because we endeavour to bring such matters as these to bear upon it-we think it matter of very serious import; the people are looking about them, and are asking what is the reason of the immense inequality in condition between them, and those who revel in luxury, apparently forgetful of their misery; and it is easy to conceive how dangerous it may be to afford a despairing people too much food for this sort of contemplation.

To enter into a minute enquiry concerning the causes which have contributed to the present gloomy aspect of our domestic affairs, and particularly to the extreme depression of the labouring classes, would be a task requiring a length and closeness of investigation, which it is not our present purpose to undertake. We cannot, however, altogether forsake a part of the subject, which is of such importance to its general consideration.

During the progress of the war with revolutionized France, a system was acted upon, which made labour so

much in demand, and so valuable, that; generally speaking, the man who had the power and the will to work, was sure of subsistence; and still so much more was to be done than could be done by all the hands which the country supplied, that our attention was applied, and applied with amazing success, to the invention of machines as a substitute for human labour. The capitalist freely unlocked his hoards, and put them at the disposal of the Government, in the shape of loans, which the Government as freely scattered among the people, whose labour they at that time happened to require; production went on with amazing rapidity, while the abundance of money which circulated amongst the people, enabled them easily to effect the exchange of one kind of production for another; and thus all laboured, and all had abundance. But the time came when loans were no longer wanted by the Government, because they did not want the people's labour; capital was not applied to the purpose of production to any thing like the extent which it had been; and the labouring classes found that their labour was no longer required in the same quantity. While the demand for labour was thus suddenly checked, the number and the necessities of those who depended upon it for their existence was greatly increased; the population of the country, notwithstanding the drain of war, was much increased; and, besides this, the labouring people, while the demand for their labour was so great, and their wages so high, had, most unfortunately for themselves, parted with every thing but the means of labouring; their small plots of ground had got into the possession of the great farmers, and their small domestic manufactures had been swept away by the torrent of machinery work, which the immense demand of the preceding time had called into action. Things were now come to that condition that there was no longer a demand for all the labour both of men and machinery which the country could supply; and as machine labour was far cheaper than that of men, those who had capital to employ in production, resorted to the machines, and left the population idle. Hence the distress which was felt at the close of the war, and which was attributed, in general terms, to the transition from war to peace

and other representatives of property, which pass current for their convenience; but the poor man's small notes are taken away, and gold by no means so freely or so abundantly circulates, in their place.

But this was not all. As if it were not enough that the capitalists should, by the aid of machinery, be able in a great measure to do without the labourers, it was thought proper to give them the advantage of employing the foreign labourer, if they could get his work cheaper than the work of their own countrymen. The capitalists, of course, did not hesitate to accept the boon which the extreme folly of the Legislature bestowed upon them, at the expense of the poor labouring classes; and forthwith, foreign ship-builders, foreign sailors, foreign weavers, foreign miners, and a host of other foreign" operatives," began to enjoy the benefit of British capital, which, under a less idiotic system of policy, would have gone to promote the comforts of our own population.

That this manner of employing capital, where it can be employed cheapest, whether by the use of machinery or of foreign labour, is most conducive to the wealth of the nation, notwithstanding its ruinous effects upon our own poor, we are not prepared to deny, although we do not see the truth of the position so clearly as the theorists insist all men should see it. But suppose it were true, that by this method the capital of the kingdom is most increased, still, if it operate to the taking away of happiness and comfort from the mass of the people-the labouring population-then we hold that the system, whatever it may do with respect to our national wealth, is a most grievous national curse. However old-fashioned it may seem to talk of poetry, in discussing subjects of domestic policy, yet we must own that we think there is much excellent sense, as well as admirable poetry, in the observations which Goldsmith makes upon the progress of wealth, when accompanied by the decay and distress of the poor :

"Ill fares that land, to hastening ills a prey,

Where wealth accumulates, and men decay.”

And that these two things, viz. the accumulation of wealth, and the decay

of the common people, may coexist in practice as well as in poetry, is a fact which the present condition of this country but too abundantly demonstrates. Though it be true, that at no former time were the warehouses of our manufacturers and merchants more full of goods; that our edifices are more extensive, magnificent, and costly, than they ever were before; that gorgeous furniture, splendid equipages, trains of idle servants, unwisely kept for shew; that plate, and jewels, and every luxurious convenience that the improved invention of man can devise, are far more abundant than they have been in times past; still it is also true, that the common people of England are neither prosperous nor happy.

"England is a fen

Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,

Fireside-the heroic wealth of hall and bower,

Have forfeited their ancient English dower

Of inward happiness - We are selfish men."

Simplicity, and goodness, and comfort, are ebbing away from our shores -on the one hand we find luxury and cold selfish sensuality,

"Which hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling;" and, on the other, a melancholy strug gle for the commonest necessaries of life, which debases man to the condition of a mere food-seeking animal, a two-legged beast of prey, more crafty, and less generous, than some of the quadrupeds which are led by similar instincts.

It should be remembered, that such a state of things is not only lamentable, but exceedingly dangerous. The power of wealth has become so very great as compared with any other power-the submission, the adoration almost, that is paid to it, has become so conspicuous, the facilities which it instantly gives of obtaining all those sensual gratifications, which in our days are esteemed more than any other, are so tempting; that all the desires of the people are summed up and concentred in this one-the desire of wealth. Now, if the operation of our new laws, and the tendency of our policy, be obviously to cripple the

means of the labouring classes, and to doom to despair all except those who, having already a large capital, wish to increase the mass, we would ask how long it is expected that the patience of the people will endure this? It is plain to every man of common observation, who looks at the resources of this country, and at its population, that there is enough for every man-it is also plain that every man has not enough. It is obvious, that for the happiness, or, to put it in a stronger and truer form, for the alleviation of the misery of the country, a better distribution of its wealth is necessary, and it is not more necessary than it is sufficient. Distribution is all we want, to make the common people as comfortable as they are the reverse; and when they see and know this, how long will they bear with the cold neglect of scientific speculators in politics, who, while they fare sumptuously every day themselves, endeavour to demonstrate the utility of measures, which they well know consign thousands of poor labouring people to present distress? The coming danger is already signified to us by the recklessness of crime which begins to prevail among the lower order; the prohibition of law is no longer strong enough to restrain those who are maddened by a contemplation of the riches of others, compared with their own poverty; they take by craft, or by force, that which, from the altered state of affairs, they can no longer expect to share by the exertion of honest labour. These things are no more than the breakers which may enable us to see at a distance the rocks upon which we are steering. Let but the present order of things go on, and the common people of England will ere long become like the common people of Ireland; the laws and the establishments of the country they will look upon merely as inventions for their oppression-contrivances which it is their interest not to support, but to break down; and we know not what power it is which is to resist the common people of England, if they become possessed with notions such as these. They are not like the impetuous and fickle Irish, to be managed, when they smart under a settled conviction of a wrong; doubtless, the progress of events has much broken and altered their ancient spirit, but still they are not the men to

rush into hopeless and headlong violence, or, when resisted, to subside into dejected tranquillity, and die of starvation beside their cold and desolate hearths. If, however, the Legislature will not take better care of them, they may be disposed to take legislation into their own hands; and against such an alarming consummation as this, we would warn those to whom the more than ever important task of governing this country is confided. It cannot be too frequently, too earnestly, too energetically enforced upon the attention of all who have any influence in the making of the laws, that the present moral and physical condition of the labouring classes is most deplorable, and that the country cannot long continue in such a state. The Legislature must do something for them, if they would preserve the country; and should immediately proceed to such enquiries as may give hope to those who are suffering so grievously, without having committed any fault.

Never was there more urgent occasion than at the present moment for a wise, patient, and thoroughly patriotic Legislature-for a House of Commons comprising men of talent and integrity, possessing a sympathy with the people, and a devotion to the interests of their country, beyond all mean and short-sighted views of personal advantage. Do we possess such a House of Commons? Alas! we fear not-the times are out of joint, and it is not without shame for our country that we look at an assembly of the representatives of the people, containing six hundred and fifty-eight members, with so slender a display of that which constitutes greatness in a man. Where are the eloquence, the enthusiasm, the patriotic feeling? where the manly reasoning, and lofty comprehension, which have made the House of Commons illustrious? How wretched, cold, insipid, common-place, are their debates! How much more like tea-table conversation, than the concussion of the intellects of the great men of England! Where are the men in the present House of Commons whose names will be familiar with unborn generations? When those who figure there, lie in their nameless and forgotten graves, who shall have heard of the speeches of Mr Peel, or what student of his country's history shall