would not hesitate to do for his own country. Sir Charles was arrested for this speech shortly after his "election," at his house in Staffordshire. But the people of Manchester, fired by the example of their brethren at Birmingham, resolved to have a Member too, and pitched upon Orator Hunt as their representative. A meeting was announced for Monday, the 9th of August, for the purpose of formally electing him, to be held on an open space of ground near St. Peter's Church. The magistrates forbade the meeting, and gave notice to all loyal and peaceable subjects to abstain from attending it. The Reformers then begged that the authorities would themselves convene a meeting where the question of Parliamentary Reform might be discussed. This request they, not perhaps unnaturally, declined; and it was immediately notified that the original meeting would be held. It assembled accordingly to the number of about eighty thousand with flags and bands of music. The magistrates had come to the decision not to prevent the meeting but only to arrest the ringleaders. They had at hand about two hundred special constables, forty of the Manchester yeomanry, the 15th Hussars, part of the 31st and 88th Regiments of Foot, and four hundred of the Cheshire yeomanry. The chief constable, when he received his warrant, said that it was impossible for him to execute it without military assistance. The Manchester yeomanry were then ordered to break through the mob, and penetrate to the spot where Hunt and his associates stood. But the comamnd was more easily given than obeyed. The soldiers did not attempt a regular charge, but more humanely endeavored to push their horses through the mass, without using their arms. The result may be imagined. They got separated from each other, and firmly wedged in among the mob, unable either to advance or retreat. At this moment, and when the mob was beginning to pull some of them off their horses, the 15th Hussars came up, and received orders from Mr. Hulton, one of the magistrates, to disperse the crowd and rescue the yeomanry. This was the work of only a few minutes; the ground was soon cleared, and Hunt and ten others were arrested. Of course, no affair of this kind could take place without a good many people being hurt. Between three and four hundred are said to have been injured on this occasion. But the cases of sabre wounds were not more than twenty or thirty, while the lives lost were actually not more than six, one of these being a special constable, and the other a yeoman, who was knocked off his horse by a brickbat. The collision took place in August during the parliamentary recess; and it is rather remarkable that when Parliament assembled again in the following November, comparatively little was said upon the subject in either House. In fact, the circumstances of the case had been much exaggerated; and as the popular leaders in the legislature had been able during the vacation to make inquiries for themselves, they judged it more prudent, perhaps also more generous, to refrain from declamation. It would be untrue to say that the agitation which culminated in " "Peterloo 99 was followed by a reaction, but it was certainly followed by a period of comparative tranquility. The repressive measures of a really strong Government did something; the horror with which the Cato Street Conspiracy inspired all classes of society did more. But what did more than all towards killing the popular excitement was the return of general prosperity which commenced soon after the accession of George IV. The question of Parliamentary Reform was allowed to go to sleep again, and Catholic Emancipation and the Slave Trade took its place in public estimation; ou neither of these questions was democratic agitation possible. We have to pass over a period of twelve years before we find the passions of 1819 again asserting themselves, or any English mob worth mentioning, in collision with the established authorities. The latter part of the autumn of 1831 was a terrible time for England. Early in October the Lords had rejected the Reform Bill by a majority of forty-one ; and that vote was a signal for the whole populace of the country to rise. Riots took place in half the large towns of the kingdom, London included, where Lord Londonderry and the Duke of Cumberland were pulled off their horses, and the windows of the Dukes of Wellington and Newcastle were smashed to pieces. But Bristol and Nottingham were the chosen spots in which the mob once more reigned supreme, and re-enacted the scenes of 1780 almost to the letter. Sir Charles Wetherell was Recorder of Bristol, and he had been one of the most violent opponents of the Reform Bill. Towards the end of October the time arrived at which the usual gaol delivery was to be held before him. Even many of his friends in Bristol, who understood the state of public feeling, thought it would be wise in him to postpone his visit. But Sir Charles himself and the more resolute of the Tory party deemed it unadvisable to betray any symptoms of timidity, and it was determined to proceed as usual. The results were frightful. Sir Charles made his entry into the city on the 29th, and with difficulty reached the Guildhall, where, amid the groans and hisses of a dense multitude, the commission was opened. With still greater difficulty did the Recorder make his way from the Guildhall to the Mansion House, where he was of course to dine with the Lord Mayor. But such a banquet was served up to him that night as must have haunted his dreams ever afterwards. The mob, vigorously but ineffectively opposed by the constabulary, smashed the windows and broke in the doors of the Mansion House, and forced its obnoxious guest, instead of sitting down to the dinner that was preparing for him, to make his escape as best he could over the roof of an adjoining house. The residence of the chief magistrate was ransacked, and among other booty falling into the bands of the mob was Sir Charles's own portmanteau, which, it was noticed at the time, though full of different kinds of wearing apparel, contained no braces. All this time the lower stories of the house had been laid completely bare to the gaze of the ontsiders, who saw through the broken windows, and gaping doors, the whole paraphernalia of the kitchen arranged as for a grand banquet. Joints of meat were seen hung upon the spits, saucepans simmering on the fire, game ready trussed upon the dressers, but the cooks An allusion to a well know peculiarity of the eccentric old lawyer. NEW SERIES-Vol. VI, No. 2. had fled, the altars were deserted, even the cellars were left a prey to the thirsty multitude, who were not slow to avail themselves of the opportunity. Henceforth Bristol was for some days at the mercy of the mob, who drank, burned, and pillaged, right and left, without any serious interruption even from the military force, which was amply sufficient to have quelled the riot at any moment. The explanation of this disgraceful scene is almost word for word the explanation of the Gordon riots. Both the officers in command of the troops, and the magistrates in command of the officers, shrank from their duty. But it does appear that the major part of the blame rested on the shoulders of Colonel Brereton. In the first place, at the very commencement of the riot, he withdrew one half of his troops from the scene of action to give them refreshment; and the mob took advantage of his absence to gain the upper hand, which they maintained for several days afterwards. In the second place he insisted at a later period on being allowed to withdraw his men to a village two miles from Bristol, on the ground that they were not sufe in the city. Thirdly, he several times refused to charge when ordered to do so by the magistrates, because, he said, his men were too fatigued. It seems beyond dispute that the most ordinary display of courage and firmness at the beginning would have crushed these riots in the cradle, as it would almost all the riots that have happened. But these quali ties were unfortunately wanted; and what was still worse, they only returned when the mob was already exhausted, and respectable people began again to show themselves in the streets. Then the cavalry charged through the town, slashing on all sides without mercy or discrimination, and killing or maiming a considerable number of innocent and perhaps even friendly persons. An inquiry was instituted into the conduct of the military, the result of which was that it seemed likely that Colonel Brereton would be tried by a court-martial. The unfortunate officer, as is well known, destroyed himself a few days afterwards, to avoid the ordeal which he felt he could not face with credit. No one doubted his personal courage; but per 12 sonal courage is scarcely the quality most in demand against a mob. Macmillan's Magazine. WAR AND PROGRESS. BY EDWARD DICEY. The Nottingham riots, which occurred about a fortnight earlier, were neither so serious nor of such long duration as those at Bristol. But they acquired an Ar the time this article was commencunhappy notoriety by two circumstances ed war between France and Germany of more than ordinary interest which at- seemed to be a mere question of weeks, tended them. One was the destruction if not of days. Even now, though the of Nottingham Castle, an ancient and Conference has averted the immediate splendid relic of past ages, then the pro- danger of war, yet the danger seems perty of the Duke of Newcastle, which only adjourned, not dispelled. It is clear possibly suggested to Mr. Disraeli his that at one moment we were on the eve vivid picture of the burning of Mowbray of an European contest. If the French Castle in Sybil. The other, and one suf- Government had insisted on the annexficient by itself to make the memory of ation of the Duchy of Luxemburg, or if these riots execrable for all time, was the that of Prussia had rejected all idea of death of Mrs. Musters, Lord Byron's conceding the fortress, war would have "Mary," whose home at Colwick Hall been inevitable. It is not my purpose was attacked by the mob, during the ab- to express any opinion as to the merits sence of her husband. She took refuge, or demerits of the French or Prussian with her daughter, in the shrubberies on positions. Which of the two powers a cold wet autumn night, and between was most in the right, or, more correctthe combined effects of fright and cold ly speaking, least in the wrong, is a she died only a few weeks afterwards. question I leave to others to decide. All The rioters extended their ravages for I wish to point out is the exact characmany miles round Nottingham, and some ter of the issue which was all but plungeven penetrated to Loughborough, a ing-which, even yet, may still plunge market-town within the borders of Lei-Europe into the horrors of war. cestershire. The present writer has of ten heard from relatives of his own, who were staying near Loughborough at the time, the terror they underwent on that memorable night, in a lonely countryhouse, with none but ladies for the garrison. With the riots of 1831 this brief sketch of English mobs may be properly concluded. The affair of 1848 was a meeting that was likely to become a mob, but in point of fact it never did, and it would be foreign to our purpose to dwell merely on possibilities. The riots of last year are too recent to be discussed without suspicion of a political bias, which it is our express purpose to avoid. The experience of a hundred and fifty years teaches us two things, that we never need fear the mob when the better classes, and those set in authority over them, are true to themselves; and, secondly, that the slightest want of energy, the most venial error of judgment, or the briefest relaxation of vigilance, may be fraught with all the horrors which London underwent in 1780, and Bristol in 1831. The subject-matter in dispute belonged to the category of infinitesimal quantities. With the exception of a few superannuated believers in the defunct science of strategy, no rational person ever supposed for a moment that the possession of the citadel of Luxemburg was of vital importance to either France or Germany. If the Emperor Napoleon desired to seize the left bank of the Rhine, or to march on Berlin, he most assuredly would not be deterred by the consideration that a few thousand Prussian troops were locked up in Luxemburg; if King William I. determined to occupy Paris, and restore Alsace to the Fatherland, he would not surrender his project in deference to the presence of a French garrison in this contested stronghold. It is even more absurd to suppose that the acquisition of the two hundred and odd thousand Luxemburgers could be essential to the dignity or safety of great empires like France or Germany. Probably, if by some strange convulsion of nature, the Grand Duchy, fortress and all, could vanish from the face of the earth, there are not a thousand square miles in Europe which would be less keenly missed than the area in question. I quite admit that very grave and weighty interests were more or less directly involved in the settlement of this controversy. But the actual issue was one of abstract honor. In the whole history of the dynastic wars which desolated Europe for centuries, I doubt if you would find one undertaken on so small and insignificant a pretext as that which all but furnished a csus belli between the two chief branches of the Latin and Teuton races. And what is more noteworthy still, the danger to peace did not arise from the ambitions of despotic sovereigns, or the jealousies of rival dynasties. No candid observer can suppose that either Napoleon III. or his Prussian Majesty was desirous of war personally. They both are men who, either from years or failing health, are no longer in the prime of life; they are neither of them men with whom war is a passion; they have both the most powerful and obvious motives for desiring the continuance of peace, in order to consolidate the enterprises their lives have been spent in prosecuting, with a more or less successful result. Nor has it ever been even surmised that there existed between the two sovereigns any of those private animosities which influence crowned equally with uncrowned heads. On the contrary, there is every reason to suppose that the personal relations between the Courts of Potsdam and the Taileries have been exceptionally amicable. If the question of peace or war was one which the two sovereigns or their respective Governments could decide without any reference to anything except their own wishes, there can be no reasonable doubt that peace would be preserved. The one real danger of war arose, and still arises, from the popular feeling in favor of war which exists throughout the two countries. Accepting this view of mine-a view whose truth will, I believe, be acknowledged by every one at all acquainted with French and German feeling-I am forced to this conclusion: that the two most civilized and cultivated nations of the Continent were within an ace of going to war, only the other day, on a question of as little practical importance-and that is saying a good deal-as any of those concerning which tens of thousands of human lives have been sacrificed in the semi-barbarous times. This conclusion leads me to the reflection-which recent events must have forced ere now on the minds of most thinking men-whether progress and war are so antagonistic as we used to imagine. In the days that preceded 1848, it used to be almost an axiom of tuition that the spread of enlightenment and commerce and civilization w re in themselves fatal to the existence of war, in much the same way as the free introduction of fresh air is fatal to the prevalence of noxious odors. To have denied that civilization exercised a pacific influence over mankind would then have been esteemed as gross heresy as to assert that education did not elevate the moral character. Nor was this dogma merely an article of abstract faith. Twenty years ago people really did believe that the era of war, if not over, was approaching its termination. In those days, when the marvels of steam and electricity were still novelties among us, we were prone perhaps to exaggerate the immediate effect of their influence. Certainly the last thought which suggested itself to ordinary people was, that these very agencies would be employed to render the destruction of human life by war more easy of accomplishment, more wholesale, and more speedy. It seems too, now, as if we used to over calculate, or, at all events, to mis-estimate, the power of popular education. That the schoolmaster was abroad was the stock platitude of the hour; and few of us doubted but the first mission of the schoolmaster would be to convince mankind of the absurdity, uselessness, and wickedness of war. High as our expectations were of the ensuing triumphs of industry and culture, it can hardly be said that in the main they have not been realized. Within the last quarter of a century we have certainly made more progress in general education and material prosperity than we had done since the close of Marlborough's wars. All through Europe, too, public opinion has grown in power and authority. Whatever may be the changes in individual forms of government, it cannot be doubted that in any European country the pub lic commands far more of hearing than it did in the period which terminated with the Congress of Vienna. Yet in spite of these two unquestionable facts, that civilization has made rapid progress, and that the popular element is every day becoming more influential in the direction of public affairs, we have the still more indubitable fact that wars, far from ceasing to exist, have been unusually frequent, and that every nation in Europe is exhausting its strength and impoverishing its resources in the attempt to raise its military power to a pitch never even contemplated in the old time-so near in distance, so far away in recollection. I know that there is a school of thinkers who attribute this contest between the tendency of the age and the spirit of progress, simply and solely to the existence of the French Empire under Napoleon III. This solution-much in favor as it is with men whose opinions I respect-always reminds me of the Hindoo theory to account for the earth being supported in mid-space, that it stands upon the back of a tortoise. Imperialism may be the parent of the war fever which has sprung up together with our modern progress; but then Imperialism itself is the product and offspring of that very progress, to whose essence and spirit all war is supposed ex hypothese to be antag onistic. Moreover, even if we regard Cæsarism as the incarnation of all evil, it is very difficult to see how in any sense except the broad one that all sin is connected with every other, it can be held responsible for the majority of the wars that of late have marked the era of progress. It was not Cæsarism which gave birth to the civil war in America, or induced Germany to attack Denmark, or sowed lifelong enmity between Austria and Italy, or split up Germany into two hostile camps. And, most assuredly, if the impending war be averted, it certain ly will be due to the power that Cæsarism confers on the French Government of disregarding for a time the voice of public opinion in France. I think, therefore, that all people who are content to look at facts, and then ground their theories upon them-a converse process to that adopted by doctrinaires of every persuasion-cannot avoid the confession that progress, in our modern sense of the term, is not directly antagonistic to war. On the contrary, I incline to the opinion, that popular governments, based, as all governments must be increasingly, on democratic principles, are quite as prone to war as despotic or oligarchic ones,-possibly more so. I can remember having learned as a child the song of Blenheim, and having it impressed upon my youthful mind that the burden of "But 'twas a famous victory," conveyed the truth that there would be no fighting if people only were taught to think what they were asked to fight for. Mature experience, however, has not confirmed my belief in the truth of this moral. No doubt it is very easy to discourse about the absurdity of all war; to ask what possible satisfaction Jack White can derive from the fact that Jean Leblanc, whom he has never seen nor heard of, is cut to pieces by a shell; to dilate upon the monstrosity of poor Müller being crippled for life, of his cottage being burned down, his children being turned upon the streets, in vindication of the claim of the high and mighty House of Pumpernickel to the disputed sovereignty of the State of Lilliput. These, or similar sarcasms, have been uttered concerning every war that has ever yet been fought since men ceased to look on fighting as the normal condition of the human race; and yet I cannot discover that they ever prevented the occurence of a single conflict. I am driven to the conclusion that there is some flaw in the logical force of this reasoning. In the first place the "Cui bono?" argument is eminently unsatisfactory. If men are only to be interested in what immediately and tangibly concerns their own position or prospects or fortunes, we find that the vast majority of human actions cannot be rationaly accounted for. We assume that every man, worthy of the name, must care for the prosperity of his own country. Yet, if you look at the matter philosophically, what conceivable practical difference does it make to my daily life or comfort that marshes are drained in Essex, or rich harvests grown in Kent, or new factories established in Lancashire? In a very vague and indirect way the general prosperity of the country may be thought |