tercession procured him new strength. If we add to this the above-mentioned habit of the early Christians to represent the persecuting world under the image of a turbulent sea, we cannot fail, with one of the latest critics, to perceive in the description of Peter courageously volunteering to walk on the sea, soon, however, sinking from faintheartedness, but borne up by Jesus, an allegorical and mythical representation of that trial of faith which this disciple who imagined himself so strong, met so weakly, and which higher assistance alone enabled him to surmount." (To be continued.) NATIONAL EDUCATION.-I have ever observed it to have been the office of a wise patriot, among the greatest affairs of the state, to take care of the commonwealth of learning. For schools, they are the seminaries of state; and nothing is worthier the study of a statesman, than that part of the republic which we call the advancement of letters.-Ben Jonson. CONTROVERSIAL DIVINES.-Some controverters in divinity are like swaggerers in a tavern, that catch that which stands next them, the candlestick, or pots; turn everything into a weapon: ofttimes they fight blindfold, and both beat the air. The one milks a he goat, the other holds under a sieve. Their arguments are as fluxive as liquor spilt upon a table, which with your finger you may drain as you will. Such controversies, or disputations (carried with more labour than profit) are odious; where most times the truth is lost in the midst, or left untouched, and the fruit of their fight is, that they spit one upon another, and are both defiled. These fencers in religion I like not.-Ben Jonson. BEN JONSON'S OPINION OF SHAKSPERE.—I remember, the players have often mentioned it as an honour to Shakspere, that in his writing (whatsoever he penned) he never blotted out a line. My answer hath been, "Would he had blotted a thousand"-which they thought a malevolent speech. I had not told posterity this, but for their ignorance, who chose that circumstance to commend their friend by, wherein he most faulted; and to justify mine own candour: for I loved the man, and do honour his memory, on this side idolatry, as much as any.-He was (indeed) honest, and of an open and free; had an excellent phantasy, brave notions, and gentle expressions; wherein he flowed with that facility, that sometimes it was necessary he should be stopped: Sufflaminandas erat, as Augustus said to Haterius-his wit was in his own power, would the rule of it had been so too-many times he fell into those things, could not escape laughter: as when he said in the person of Cæsar, one speaking to him, 66 Cæsar, thou dost me wrong," he replied, " Cæsar did never wrong but with just cause," and such like; which were ridiculous. But he redeemed his vices with his virtuesthere was ever more in him to be praised than to be pardoned.-Gifford's Edition of Jonson's Works, Vol. ix. page 175. WORKS OF THOMAS COOPER, To be had of JAMES WATSON, 3, Queen's Head Passage, Paternoster Row. s. d. THE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES. A Prison Rhyme. In 10 Books. (To be had also in 18 numbers, at 2d each; or in 6 parts at 6d.) 3 6 WISE SAWS AND MODERN INSTANCES. A series of Tales illustrative of Lincolnshire and 5 0 THE BARON'S YULE FEAST. A Christmas Rhyme. In 1 volume, sewed,.. 1 6 THE MINSTREL'S SONG AND THE WOODMAN'S SONG. The Poetry and the Melody by 0 6 Two Orations against taking away Human Life under any circumstances,. 1 0 Eight Letters to the Young Men of the Working Classes. (Collected from the 'Plain Speaker,') 0 6 PART 3 of " COOPER'S JOURNAL," containing 5 Numbers, in a Wrapper, Price 5d., is now ready. Also, Parts 1 and 2, containing 4 Numbers each, Price 41d. each. 66 OR Part 1, Price 6d. (containing 6 Numbers,) is now ready, of CAPTAIN COBLER; THE LINCOLNSHIRE INSURRECTION:" An Historical Romance of the Reign of Henry VIII. Also, now Publishing in Weekly Numbers, at One Penny. Seven Numbers are now ready. London: Printed by WILLIAM SHIRREFS, 190, High Holborn; and Published by JAMES WATSON, 3, Queen's Head Passage, Paternoster Row. OR, UNFETTERED THINKER AND PLAIN SPEAKER FOR TRUTH, FREEDOM, AND PROGRESS. "AND though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple! Who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?"-Milton's Areopagitica. No. 16.-Vol. I.] FOR THE WEEK ENDING SATURDAY, APRIL 20, 1850. [Price One Penny. 'FRIENDS OF ORDER' IN FRANCE-WHO ARE THEY? COULD anything in the world make us sympathise with anarchy, and take delight in the horrors of civil war, it would be the present conduct of that party in France who call themselves par excellence the Friends of Order.' These very respectable people are now striving, might and main, under the false pretence of preserving peace, to bring all law and liberty as they should exist in a Republican government into hatred and contempt. Like certain officious busy bodies at public meetings who are continually rising to order' and shouting for 'silence', they merely add to the noise, and sow the seeds of increased turmoil. It is just this party who lay the foundations of revolutions, and pave the way for scenes of violence and bloodshed. They march about with an olive-branch in one hand, and a two-edged sword in the other. They shade their faces with the one, while they brandish the other in the faces of their neighbours. Their idea of order' appears to consist entirely of the right to order everybody to obey them, and to enforce obedience in the event of resistance. Of such a delicate texture are their nerves that no one must talk above a whisper, but themselves. To argue with them is out of the question; they will not listen to argument. The bare mention of Reason throws them into a delirium tremens; and the sight of a newspaper, advocating the cause of labour and poverty against the monopoly of capital and bloated wealth, raises visions of guillotines and headless trunks. They have faith in nothing but cannon balls and bayonets, except when employed by their enemies, and then, of course, these are the instruments of impious rebellion. Without knowing, or giving themselves the trouble to find out what Socialism means, they assume that it is hostile to civilization and humanity, and by base misrepresentations, exaggerations, and petty persecution, by a venal press and a hireling policy, in short, by a reign of terror, these canting apostles of a tomb-begotten Conservatism seek to perpetuate class tyranny, and keep the Many in subjection to the Few. The expression of opinion unfavourable to their notions of 'order' and 'law' must be instantly crushed, and thus we read day after day of journals seized, editors fined and imprisoned, books and periodicals prohibited, public assemblies dispersed for presuming to discuss political questions, 'trees of liberty' torn up and carried away by an armed soldiery, and such kind of irritating and unnecessary interference with the rights of thought, and the peculiarities of a somewhat fanciful people. We say, unnecessary interference, because we believe the liberty of the press-the unlimited liberty of political writing-and the fluttering of a few yards of ribbon on a tall poplar, are not incompatible with the peace and prosperity even of the city of Paris-nay, this galling persecution of democratic ideas is far more likely to lead to an outbreak of popular passion, bringing with it a vengeful destruction of life and property, than if the feelings of the people were suffered to evaporate in print and songs. But the 'friends of order' say, if this latitude is permitted it will be abused. We reply, then punish the abuse; if the liberty of the press is employed to instigate this or that faction to rise in revolt against the government, punish the revolters; but, on no account, wrong the sacred principle of liberty of thought. Had the French press never been shackled by restrictive laws, and subjected to a despotic censorship, but had been suffered to reflect the will of France, the revolutions which have occurred in that country would have had a different complexion. Where the mind is fettered, and the true sentiments of the heart stifled in their birth, where one form of opinion assumes the right to domineer over another form of opinion, where rank and riches are privileged, and lowly poverty enslaved, where gaudy idleness is worshipped, and dingy labour despised, where the people feel and know their rights and are prevented from asserting them in a manner consistent with tranquillity and unblended with the vindictive passions, society stands upon a mine of gunpowder which sooner or later must explode. And when the magazine of wrath does explode again in France, which we fear it will do ere long if these 'friends of order' pursue their insane repressive policy, terrific indeed will be the result, and the ultimate upshot it is impossible to predict. But who are the 'friends of order' in the French Republic? Their grand principle is, they say, to respect the powers that be.' And first of all let us take the Legitimists' who talk mighty loud about loyalty and 'order.' Instead of respecting the sovereignty of the People, instead of respecting the Republic, and nobly coming forward to aid in realising the holy idea of liberty, equality, and fraternity,' we find them intriguing and caballing to bring the Republic into disrepute at home, and into contempt abroad. Not content to share power equally with their fellow citizens, they are grasping at a monopoly. If the solecism is allowable, they are paying honour, not to the powers that be, but to powers that are not. But to seat Henri V. on the throne, a revolution, a bloody revolution, great disorder must necessarily occur; this they are aware of, and yet have the impudence to style themselves 'friends of order'! Away with such hypocrisy! Of the same kidney are the Bonapartists, and the Orleanists. They hate the Republic, and sigh for a dynasty-a king-an emperor, or some such incarnation of egotism. Even the moderate republican party is not wholly free from censure. They are two much led by their fears. They lend themselves to their enemies to hunt down socalism by physical force, probably because they are unable to combat its doctrines by force of argument. And the consequence will be another street campaign and barricade fighting. That the growing intelligence of the French people can ever subsist under any other than the republican form of government, we do not believe. We hope the 'friends of order' may not reap the whirlwind they are sowing. If they succeed in destroying the Republic for a time, it will rise again like a giant refreshed, and perhaps witness the final annihilation of all the dynasty factions which now disturb its repose. If they desire to promote and establish a sound and healthy order,' let them adhere religiously to the broad principles of Republicanism-the principles of truth, justice, and freedom, FRANK GRANT. WHAT THE POOR THINK IN FRANCE. A FRIEND has kindly furnished me with the following 'Letter from a French Peasant' for publishing which, the editor of the Republicain du Centre has been condemned to six months' imprisonment and a fine of 2,000 francs (about £83). It is translated as literally as the language will permit; and will better enable English working men to enter into the real thoughts and feelings of the French agricultural poor, than twenty pompous leading-articles' in the newspapers.-T. C. I am a husbandman, and very badly off, as I shall show you. As I don't know how to write, I dictate this letter to the schoolmaster of our village, and beg you to publish it, so that when they read your paper, any good people who are interested about us may know how we get on. Ah! if men would only explain themselves and agree together, instead of each doing just what comes in his head, it seems to me that, with good-will for one another and both sides doing their part, people would be a good deal happier in the world. It is my opinion that there are very few rascals and devils incarnate who torment their neighbour only for the pleasure of seeing him pained: it is fear and ambition that spoil all, and people the world with foolish wicked people-wicked beasts,-there! The worst of it is that our master looks cross at me ever since the revolution, and that I don't get a good word from him because I love the Republic. "You have'nt gained anything by the Republic, have you?"—"That's true enough, I have'nt gained anything.' "On the contrary, there are more taxes, the 45 centimes, and others too that I shall see that you pay."-"True, you'll make me pay them, and though the money doesn't pass from my hands into the tax-gatherer's, you take it out of my pocket all the same.”"Well, don't split my head with your cursed song The peasant's real republic, If I catch you at it again, I'll turn you off." That's the way he reasons to disgust me with the Republic. And he's strong. I have my reasons, too; but I keep them to myself-what am I to say? The Republic has done us no good, but I love it all the same. It is perhaps because it may do good to our children, and some day when the good comes, our boys will be better taught and our girls bonnier, and they will all know how to read, and write, and speak, as well as our masters, and the schoolmaster, who puts this country speech into good French, and if one is not so easy now as before February, one is much more proud. In short, I love the Republic because I love it. I have voted, I do vote, and I will vote for it. One is not master of his heart. This is what brings me into trouble. They are going to turn me away. They have threatened me already. My God, what will become of me? For ten leagues round not another farm will hire me. Farewell, then, to the chesnut orchard that I planted, where I know all the trees like old friends!-the fields where I have worked for twenty years! Am I then a good-for-nothing fellow, that I am to be forced to leave the country? And where to go to? Perhaps beyond the seas; and so be obliged to leave our eldest girl, who is married in the village: it would be the death of my poor wife, I am sure. Just hear what our mistress, when she saw her crying, said to her to comfort her! That we had not any right to be here at all; that we must go away and separate without crying out so much; that it was our lot; that unless we had property we have no country or family. No country! No love of home! Why then do our conscripts, farm labourers, like us, however far they send them, take the home-sickness and die, and never any of the officers who go from the great houses? No family! Are we beasts then? Then let them take our girls to market, and sell our little ones like calves and sheep to the butcher. No family!-Hold! when I hear that, the blood comes into my face, my ears tingle, and— Hold! I was going to say a very foolish thing, enough to get me thrown into prison. But its gone now. Only if you hear speak of that good Cabet, who wants the land to be for everybody, give me, please, some news of him. The other farm-labourers think as above like me. To our minds, if our master would hear reason, it would be better for him and us too; but he takes everything his own way, without caring even to tell us why or how. And because in writing the agreement, he put in his devilish paper just what suited him and the very opposite of what he had said, one's to take his word! If one goes to complain to the magistrate, the old fox who dines and drinks with the master, always makes us wrong. We are like the fools in the play. And then that weighs on one's heart, and one gets food as one can, sometimes milk and butter, and sometimes eggs, or cuts wood where one has no business. It's trick against trick and nobody's the gainer. The young folks in the village who have been over France, say that they have never seen any people so wretched as we are, though they know very well that there's no country in the world that's worth so much as this. How do they do then? To believe these folks, the labourers down there live in real good houses, with shutters and windows, and their pigs too will be having a sty where they carry their victuals to them, as they do here to our master's horse. It's well to be young pigs in those countries. But ours are brought up in our room, and don't soon forget the way out of it; and there's no great harm thought of it if they make a trough of the table; they get served the quicker, and nobody for that, big or little, looks black at the broth. But our pigs may behave as they're brought up: it is not that that annoys me. One word more. I hear tell by a cousin of mine, who's a journeyman-potter, that at Limoges things are done different. When they fall out with their employers, they have their own judges, what they call a council of prud'hommes. If it was to come of the Republic's goodness to do as much for us, to bring our masters a little to reason, we should like it all the better. There are some of our labourers who think that they won't refuse it; they are going to make a petition to our representatives that we too may have judges for our own side, a country council of prudkommes. What do you think of it? LEONARD, husbandman at Bessines. THE QUARTERLY, M. GUIZOT, AND DEMOCRACY. EVERY three months there issues from Albemarle-street, a thick periodical in a drab-coloured cover, the fulminating oracle of the high Church and Tory party. In hatred to all political reforms, and to anything savouring of a popular movement, in love for social follies and corruptions, provided these be sanctified by the venerable hand of antiquity, the Quarterly Review stands unrivalled. It is not, however, to be cast aside on this account. There is much to be learnt from its pages,-for we may often gather more valuable auguries from the fears of our enemies than from the brightest hopes of our friends. This is just the case in an article in the March number of the Quarterly, devoted to a consideration of several publications relating to the French Revolution of 1848. One of the works selected for review is M. Guizot's enquiry, 'Why has the English Revolution succeeded?' And the writer, in the course of his criticism, alludes to past aristocracy, and points out the tendency of the present age to democratic government, in the following not uninstructive terms : : "If we were to consider M. Guizot's work abstractedly, and as a mere historical essay, we should have to suggest some doubts and to make some reserves in our general concurrence with his statements and opinions for instance, we must have insisted on a most important consideration, which, (strangely enough), M. Guizot does not allude to, which is, that about the time when our Revolution gave such permanent weight to the principle of popular representation, there began almost simultaneously that countervailing system by |