what they considered the original vice of his appointment, and his youth promised them an immediate impunity. This prince, however, like so many of his predecessors, soon came to an unhappy end. Under the guardianship of the upright Misitheus, for a time he prospered; and preparations were made upon a great scale for the energetic administration of a Persian war. But Misitheus died, perhaps by poison, in the course of the campaign; and to him succeeded, as Prætorian Prefect, an Arabian officer, called Philip. The innocent boy, left without friends, was soon removed by murder; and a monument was after wards erected to his memory, at the junction of the Aboras and the Euphrates. Great obscurity, however, clouds this part of history; nor is it so much as known in what way the Persian war was conducted or terminated.

Philip, having made himself Emperor, celebrated, upon his arrival in Rome, the secular games, in the year 247 of the Christian era-that being the completion of a thousand years from the foundation of Rome. But Nemesis was already on his steps. An insurrection had broken out amongst the legions stationed in Masia; and they had raised to the purple some officer of low rank. Philip, having occasion to notice this affair in the Senate, received for answer from Decius, that probably the pseudo-Imperator would prove a mere evanescent phantom. This conjecture was confirmed: and Philip in consequence conceived a high opinion of Decius, whom (as the insurrection still continued) he judged to be the fittest man for appeasing it. Decius accordingly went armed with the proper authority. But on his arrival he found himself compelled by the insurgent army to choose between empire and death. Thus constrained, he yielded to the wishes of the troops; and then hastening with a veteran army into Italy, he fought the battle of Verona, where Philip was defeated and killed; whilst the son of Philip was murdered at Rome by the Prætorian guards.

With Philip ends, according to our distribution, the second series of the Cæsars, comprehending Com

VOL. XXXVI. NO. CCXXIV.

modus, Pertinax, Didius Julianus, Septimius Severus, Caracalla, and Geta, Macrinus, Heliogabalus, Alexander Severus, Maximin, the two Gordians, Pupienus and Balbinus, the third Gordian, and Philip the Arab.

In looking back at this series of Cæsars, we are horror-struck at the blood-stained picture. Well might a foreign writer, in reviewing the same succession, declare, that it is like passing into a new world when the transition is made from this chapter of the human history to that of modern Europe. From Commodus to Decius are sixteen names, which, spread through a space of 59 years, assign to each Cæsar a reign of less than four years. And Casaubon remarks, that in one period of 160 years, there were 70 persons who assumed the Roman purple; which gives to each not much more than two years. On the other hand, in the history of France, we find that, through a period of 1200 years, there have been no more than 64 kings: upon an average, therefore, each king appears to have enjoyed a reign of nearly nineteen years. This vast difference in security is due to two great principles-that of primogeniture as between son and son, and of hereditary succession as between a son and every other pretender. Well may we hail the principle of hereditary right as realizing the praise of Burke applied to chivalry, viz. that it is "the cheap defence of nations;" for the security which is thus obtained, be it recollected, does not regard a small succession of princes, but the whole rights and interests of social man: since the contests for the rights of belligerent rivals do not respect themselves only, but very often spread ruin and proscription amongst all orders of men. The principle of hereditary succession, says one writer, had it been a discovery of any one individual, would deserve to be considered as the very greatest ever made: and he adds acutely, in answer to the obvious, but shallow objection to it (viz. its apparent assumption of equal ability for reigning in father and son for ever), that it is like the Copernican system of the heavenly bodies-contradictory to our sense and first impressions, but true notwithstanding.

F

WE have now reached the second stage in revolutionary movements; the first is numbered with the things which have been. We are running the usual, the thousand-times predicted course of such changes: their first effect has destroyed the principles with which they set out; precipitated from the helm the conscientious part of the Government, who were carried away by their illusion. Purified of its constitutional supporters, deprived of its brightest talent, stript of its noblest eloquence, the Reform Cabinet has changed its character, altered its intentions, abandoned its pledges. It no longer pretends to uphold the constitution; it gives up the stale pretence of reforming, not changing, the government-it avows its inability to withstand the movement. We no longer hear of resting where we are of making a great and sweeping, but final change; of lopping off the corrupt, but retaining the sound part of the constitution. Concession to the "pressure from without" is now the watchword; ecclesiastical spoliation is admitted in principle; the intention is avowed of marching with the spirit of the age; the fact is assumed, but falsely assumed we trust, that that spirit is revolutionary. These vast and important announcements mark the commencement of the SECOND PERIOD of revolutionary progress, that in which the old pretences of restoring, not altering, are at length abandoned; in which the democratic influence, raised up by aristocratic ambition for its own selfish purposes, is at length openly admitted as the ruling power; and the terrified Government, virtually resigning the helm, proclaims its inability to resist the tempest, and drifts away a melancholy wreck before the fury of the winds.

tionists, of men ready to go any length in measures of spoliation; and who, having little or nothing to lose themselves, are careless of the hazard in which they may place the property of others. This desperate party, it is also true, is fearfully increased by the progress of corruption, and the changes of fortune, incident to a wealthy and commercial society; for as Bacon well observes, "as many as there are overthrown fortunes, are there assured votes for innovation." But great as this party sometimes becomes in the progress of wealth in the later stages of society, especially after a monetary crisis, such as we have passed through, it never can overcome the holders of property, and the men of education, if they only behave with common resolution, and remain true to themselves, their principles, their duties, and their interests. it is the defection of a portion, and it is often a noble and generous portion, of this phalanx, irresistible when united, which can alone give even a temporary ascendency to the Revolutionary party, and enable the refuse of society, the reckless, the profligate, the desperate, the prodigals, the bankrupts, the infidels,—to usurp the dominion over the industry, the virtue, the wisdom of the State; over the religion of Christ, and the institutions of ages; over all that labour has accumulated, and all that learning has bequeathed; over the dictates of wisdom, and the efforts of genius; over all that constitutes the happiness of man here, and all that grounds his hopes hereafter. Yet such is Revolution, and such the consequence of the fatal alliance which ever marks its outset, between deluded philanthropy and artful ambition; between ardent genius and cautious calculation; between religious benevolence and infidel self

We need never fear the approaches of political convulsion, where its banners are borne only by those who are ultimately to adhere to them; it is the seduction of a considerable portion of the property, talent, and enthusiasm of the nation, which alone renders them formidable; it is the support of those who

are to be its earliest victims which first intrenches Revolution in power, and enables its hardened leaders ultimately to discard their assistance, and drive its fiendlike car alike over the virtuous part of its supporters, and the courageous host of its antagonists. This frightful progress is in the main owing more to human delusion, than wickedness; its early and irretrievable successes are invariably owing to the support of the mistaken good, the unsuspecting brave; and in its most hideous consequences may be perceived an additional confirmation of the profound observation of Rochefoucauld, that "Hypocrisy itself is the homage which Vice pays to Virtue."

So inseparably interwoven are the contending principles of good and evil in our nature; so invariably are men destined to experience in all the stages, whether of public or private life, whether of the individual or the social system, that this is a state of probation, and not our ultimate abiding-place; that there is no state of prosperity, how great soever, arising from the steady growth of right principles, which is not liable to be speedily assailed by its own peculiar causes of corruption; nor any pitch of power from which we are not liable to be instantly dashed, by the consequences which its possession have brought forth. From the height of glory and the pinnacle of fame, from the crown of Charlemagne and the empire of Europe, Napoleon was precipitated, through the effects of his own triumphs, to the rock of St Helena. From the glories of Waterloo and Trafalgar-from the command of the ocean, and the lead of civilisation, England was plunged at once into internal agony and external weakness, divisions unprecedented since the Great Rebellion, disgrace unknown since the days of Charles II. Superficial or inconsiderate observers may conclude from these changes, that human affairs are subject to the caprice of chance, or the revolutions of destiny let us discern in them the incessant operation of general laws, and the continued existence of that mysterious union of good and evil which was the lot bequeathed to man from his first parents. If the seeds of misfortune are sown with

the gales of prosperity, those of future glory are frequently hardened in their growth by the storms of adversity. The tomb is ever to be seen beside the palace; but the palace rises as often beside the tomb. Prosperity leads to misfortune; but out of the bosom of suffering there often arise the high resolves, the noble resolutions, which are the source at once of all that dignifies and adorns the human race.

It is these principles which we apply to the present time; it is these lessons which we deduce from the crisis which the nation is now undergoing. During the triumph and glory of Conservative principles, from 1815 to 1830, when their power was thought to be perpetual, and their influence unbounded, the seeds of evil were rapidly growing, and the downfall of the Government, founded on right maxims, preparing in the supposed irresistible nature of its authority. In the plenitude of their power, they sometimes forgot these principles; in the consequences of their greatness, unknown to them, antagonist motives were acquiring an ultimately overwhelming influence. The youth of the higher ranks deserted them; they travelled abroad, and became tinged with an absurd pseudo liberality; they returned home, and joined the ranks of a supposed liberal and enlightened Opposition. Conservative principles, having been long triumphant, were supposed to be unnecessary; the brave man, having won his laurels, forgot the toils of his youth; the rich, having made his fortune, no longer remembered that it had been won by industry and exertion. The nation reposed on the recollection of its achievements, and yielded to the siren voice, which lured its youth by the voice of flattery to perdition. This state of the public mind-this ruinous departure from just principles-this destructive dereliction of right views of society, soon appeared in the successive de. falcations which took place from the Conservative ranks. A large body broke off with Mr Canning; a still larger seceded with Mr Huskisson. The Tories were at length reduced to a remnant, supported only by the recollection of their former glory: "Stabat magni nominis umbra;"

and with the resignation of the Duke of Wellington, rendered necessary by the coalition which jealousy, resentment, and infatuation, had formed against him, the old Government of England fell to the ground.

The present break-up of the Reform Cabinet, the resignations which have taken place, and the division of their party in the country which is in consequence going forward, are the counterpart of the same changes; indicating the arrival of the period when the tide has turned, and the opinion of the intelligent classes is rapidly returning towards the great Conservative principles, on which the welfare of society for ever depends. As the secession of the able but deluded members of the former Administration proved the force of the current which was sweeping away the settled ideas of the country, and preparing the darkness and dangers of the revolutionary Administration; so the resignations of Mr Stanley and Sir James Graham announce the approach of the period, when the danger of farther pursuing so delusive a phantom has become apparent to the men of the greatest intelligence and strongest talent in the country, and their representatives in the Government have renounced power and influence rather than persevere in the pursuit. The crisis which has occurred in the Cabinet is in reality the index merely to the crisis which is going on in the country, and indicates the arrival of the period when the unprecedented combination of worth and wickedness, genius and sophistry, benevolent intention and selfish ambition, which commenced the Revolution, is beginning to be broken up; when the unutterable horrors of farther convulsion are at length forcing themselves on the observation, not only of the Conservatives who have ever predicted, but the Liberals who have hitherto derided them, and when those who really desire_reformation, and not revolution, feel, in Lord Ripon's words, that "they must at length take their stand, or they never again will find rest for their feet." Their best allies-the support ers who chiefly rendered them formidable, have already left them; and the remnant of the Cabinet, bereft of its best Conservative blood, has

sought, after a painful struggle, for momentary relief in the admission of men of more thorough revolutionary principles, and purchased a respite of a few months, by the promised sacrifice of the interest in the State which was thought to be most indefensible-the Irish Church. The war on property, therefore, has now fairly commenced; the Commission which has been issued is avowedly for the purpose of enquiring into a new distribution of it; and every man who has any thing to preserve for himself or his family, may know what side he should take, and what fate awaits his possessions, if the Rump of the Administration, who were wafted to the helm amidst the transports of the Reform mania, remain much longer in power. We do not say that the present Cabinet professedly intend to spoliate private property; what we say is, that they are pursuing measures which certainly, if persisted in, must lead to that result. They did not intend, we doubt not, when they forced through the Reform Bill, to adventure on the tremendous experiment of Negro emancipation, or commence the war on private property by destroying the Irish Establishment; but yet they have already done the one, and are about to do the other. As usual in such cases, it is not malevolent intention, but selfish ambition, and blind infatuation in the rulers of mankind, which form the real danger. They find that their maintenance in power is dependent on the prosecution of the insane revolutionary career which they have commenced; they perceive that, in attempting to restrain it, they have split, and wellnigh suffered shipwreck; and they easily persuade themselves that it is their duty to continue the movement, and peril any of all the institutions of society, rather than abandon the helm, which, in an evil hour for themselves and their country, they were permitted to seize.

The present crisis could not, by any efforts, have been averted, after the Reform Bill was passed. That fatal measure gave so perilous an ascendency to the Democratic interest in the State, that, from the moment it became a law, nothing could be more certain than that we should, sooner or later, be driven to

revolutionary confiscation, the object, and the only object, which the designing leaders of revolution always had the catastrophe which its deluded followers, whether in the Legislature or the country, uniformly asserted would never occur. Its present advent is the event, therefore, calculated to divide finally and for ever the reforming party; to unveil the designs of its Radical members, and to horrify the minds of its conscientious but mistaken supporters; to separate, at last, the wheat from the chaff, and demonstrate to the most enthusiastic followers of mere Reform, that whatever he may have thought or done formerly, he must now think and act differently; that, in Lord Ripon's words, "if he does not rest now, he never can rest hereafter."

The well-known French proverb, "C'est le premier pas qui coute," and the maxim of Roman justice, "Majus et minus non variant speciem," are alike applicable to this question. Both point to the unspeakable peril, the enormous danger of following the supposed "spirit of the times,"-in other words, the desire of robbery-into its contemplated inroads upon the property of the Irish Church. If this door be once opened,-if this barrier be once thrown down,-if this inroad be once permitted, no property of any sort is worth five years' purchase. The wolf which has once tasted blood, can never again be kept from deeds of slaughter. There is a natural repugnance,-an unavoidable horror in nations, as well as individuals, at the commission of the first deeds of acknowledged injustice. The thief who has been bred to better habits, does not first lay his hand on his neighbour's purse, the assassin does not first plunge his dagger in an innocent breast, the seducer does not first complete the ruin of his victim, without a thrill of horror, without some compunction as to the awful course on which he has entered. Cæsar paused on the banks of the Rubicon; Napoleon himself shrunk before the majesty even of a revolutionary Legislature at St Cloud. But when the die is once cast, when the Rubicon is fairly past, the rest follows as a matter of course. Conscience is obli

terated; ambitious passions gain an irresistible ascendency; necessity drags them on. Quod prius fuit voluntatis postea fit necessitatis. They cannot recede if they would; they are impelled forward by a cla morous and highly-excited crowd in their rear; their personal safety (and that is the fatal thing) becomes wound up in continuing the revolutionary system. Instant ruin and disgrace stare them in the face, if they recede after they have fairly commenced the war on private property,-after their hands have once been sullied by deeds of injustice. There is no possibility of receding, therefore, after the precedent of revolutionary acts has once been established; and it was the profound, the heartfelt sense of this great truth, which led Mr Stanley and Sir James Graham to resign their exalted situations, rather than become involved in its commission. Well and nobly have they acted; an heroic sacrifice have they made, but a glorious recompense will they receive. Their names will be emblazoned in the archives of their country; and the patriot historian, mournfully but justly narrating the past, will joyfully rest on this splendid act, and enrol them among those who, if they once erred, have at least sought to redeem their fault,-who, if they were accessory to a ruinous measure, have at least proved that they are so from error of judgment, not selfishness of intention.

In every country, which the decrees of Providence permit, as the punishment of its sins, to be afflicted by the revolutionary fever, a crisis such as the present has arrived; and its future destiny depends entirely on the strength of the virtuous and Conservative part of the community, when nature has made this effort to cast off the load which is oppressing it. The secession of Burke and the old Whigs of England, in 1793, from the ranks of an Opposition, which, but for their secession, might have succeeded in rousing revolutionary passion so as to overturn the Monarchy; the retirement of Mounier, Neckar, and the early leaders of the French Revolution, indicated the arrival of the same crisis in the progress of the malady, which the resignations of Mr Stanley