CHAPTER VII.

CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS.

IN casting an eye backward over the ground we have travelled in this volume, from the year 1400, to to the present date of 1700, we cannot fail to be struck with the varied and checquered aspect of political science, considered as a whole. On one or two points connected with this period of its history, embracing nearly four centuries, a few general remarks seem obviously called for.

This portion of the history of political literature embraces the most impatient epoch in the experience of mankind, as social and political agents. All former periods of their legislative movements and aspirations sink into comparative insignificancy, when contrasted with the bold and rapid advances they made in these four centuries, in the knowledge of abstract principles of government, and in the skilful applications they have made of them to their wants, energies, and freedom. Every half century, within the time of which we are now speaking, is characterised by some new and important views of men's social relations, and decided progress in security and happiness; and the whole of European communities have arisen, like a giant refreshed with sleep, from a state of mental

and moral apathy and decrepitude, in which they had slumbered for ages.

At the commencement of the fifteenth century, political darkness and oppression brooded over the earth. Politics, as a science, and popular opinion as the outward and visible expression of it, could scarcely be said to exist. Society, it is true, had, in most countries of Europe, been moulded into shape and form, and its several functions played their respective parts in the general working of the entire machine; but there was no intelligent and comprehensive conception of the nature of its principles, nor of the great flexibility of which their application to the varied interests of the community, was susceptible. Political power was rude and untameable; it scorned advice or reproof; it spurned control or constitutional restraints; and turned the sword of persecution against those who dared to repine at its wicked and licentious manifestations.

The history of political opinion takes the form of great and distinct epochs. There is sometimes a powerful heave forward, and then a season of comparative lukewarmness and apathy. But there is no retrogression; what we often take for such is simply the settling down of society after its having been flooded with a series of new and interesting truths. Time is required for those to be absorbed into all the corners and ramifications of social life. There is often confusion, conflict, opposition, for a long period, and the energies of the nation seem almost exhausted or benumbed by the turmoil; but the season of renewed strength arrives, possibly from some unlooked for quarter, and a fresh bound in the career of intelligence is made,

and a succession of new ideas and principles laid before the public mind. A seeming lull may come over the community before these ideas and principles are fairly laid hold of and incorporated with the entire structure of society; but the previous advances of political knowledge are secured, and humanity is advanced a stage forward and placed on a higher platform. The progress of public sentiment is like the motion of the tides, but without its ebb. The advancing waters come rolling along-then recedingthen approaching again, making further conquests on the broad beach, till the whole is submerged by the resistless energies of the moving fluid. Just in like manner do political truths act on society. The first entrance of a novel idea before the public eye is often marked by a receding for a season; it makes its appearance again, with additional power and more attractive attributes; and the difference between it and other older ideas becomes less apparent and startling. A conquest is made; and the new conception or theory forms a constituent part of the intellect of the nation.

Let us suppose ourselves placed on an eminence commanding a near view of a populous and commercial city. In looking down upon its numerous and winding streets, we see countless thousands who are congregated in them, elbowing and threading their way among each other, with surprising regularity and ease. Every individual has some object of his own which he is prosecuting with ardour and singleness of purpose. To many thousands in the throng, the affairs they are engaged in are of unspeakable importance, involving the permanent happiness of themselves and families. Yet clashing as the antagonistic interests

and pursuits are, everything assumes the appearance of tranquillity and regularity. There is no confusion, no disorder, no scrambling, no personal conflicts. All is hushed into universal order. Private aims, purposes, and concerns, are just allowed a certain extent of individual development, and no further; and the selfish instincts and passions are kept from overflowing the natural barriers of social harmony, peace, and brotherhood.

Or again, let us look at the erecting of a splendid public building. We see the unseemly mass of scaffolding around it. Nothing appears more confused and perplexing to the eye, than the numerous posts, planks, ropes, and gangways which compose it; yet behind this huge and and ungainly outwork, there is a noble structure gradually unfolding its beautiful proportions, and embodying all the first principles of scientific architecture, refinement, and taste. Just so is it with political science. The numerous and opposite theories, and violent and antagonistic discussions on isolated questions, constitute the framework of true political knowledge; and time elaborates and moulds them into a harmonious unity of design and usefulness of purpose.

Political truth, like all other truth, expands and develops itself as time rolls on. Its principles are like the seeds of the acorn-the parents of the sturdy oak; the minute is swelled into the majestic, and the small becomes the great. Time is the chief elaborator of political truths and measures. It gradually unfolds them to the understanding; it preserves and nourishes them in their feebleness and growth; and advances them forward to the stages of expansion and maturity.

It spreads its healing and beneficent wings over the human race, and with a keen and searching eye, detects one speculative error, one practical obstruction to improvement after another, and removes them for ever out of sight. We personify time by calling it the spirit of progress; which moves onward with a steady and unfaltering step. There is no hesitation, no falling back. It is the True; it is the Just; it is the Right; it is one and indivisible; the same in all countries and climes; the same now it will ever be. It is the seed thrown into the fruitful ground, which will spring up and cover the entire face of the earth with luxuriance and beauty.

The history of society is, then, the history of progress. Great social principles of polity grow. They are sometimes hidden from view-sometimes checked --but they are full of vitality, and are still making advances in some unnoticed manner and direction. This is, and must ever be the case. This progressive movement knows nothing of contingency, doubt, accident, and chance. There is a great Guiding Hand above. Were this not the case-were it not in a thousand different ways imprinted on the heart of man -hope would be for ever extinguished in the human breast. Faith and courage are the two mainsprings of social and political movements. Harvest is connected with seed-time; the sowers and the reapers may not be the same individuals; but the joys of the latter are inseparably linked to the faith and labours of the former. "Les hommes," says Bossuet, agitent; mais Dieu mene."

The sketch of political literature we have made in this volume, is fitted to awaken our perceptions as to