for themselves. So far from clear ideas on the part of the speaker giving rise necessarily to clearness of language to the general hearer, I affirm that the first masters of the day, in their respective departments of science and literature, are far from being the most effective teachers of them.-(I could cite names which would put the matter beyond controversy, but that, without explanation, it might appear invidious.) The truth is, a man, more accustomed to investigate in the closet than discuss in public, can hardly avoid being misled by his own knowledge of his own meanings into a supposition that he is clearly intelligible to others, because he clearly understands himself. He suggests when he ought very often to explain, and becomes elliptical, without being at all aware that his audience require that he should furnish them with the detail fillings-up as a bridge to his meanings. Such persons will, in nine cases out of ten, speak more effectively on a subject with which they are not long familiar, or but partially acquainted, than on one which has occupied their thoughts for years; because, in the former case, they are more on a level with their auditors. Such is the case with Charles Grant: he is an effective speaker at a Bible meeting, or in the heat of an election, while his speeches on Free-trade or religious toleration are too often prosy, obscure, and tedious to his hearers.

SIR JAMES GRAHAM (First Lord of the Admiralty).-The late Mr. Tierney, on being asked his opinion of the Right Hon. Representative of the county of Cumberland, replied in his usual pithy, sarcastic manner-" Graham is a manly puppy-the cleverest of the set." Harshly as this may sound, coming from Mr. Tierney, it meant high praise, and describes the man very graphically. The Right Hon. Baronet is a powerfully made man, of almost herculean proportions, smart and fluent in speech, industrious and most pains-taking in making himself acquainted with his subject, but with the lisping, affected, half-whining delivery of a carpet knight. Then his precise dandyish attire, and the air of Adonis self-complacency, contrasts so provokingly with the information and good sense so abundant in his set speeches. This mixture of the "nice lady's man" and the intelligent debater, has given rise to opposite opinions of his merits, equally remote from truth. By some he is described as a mere flippant, self-confident House of Commons coxcomb; by others, as a man of great knowledge and great statesmanlike abilities. He is neither the one, nor the other. Among mere dandies, he is an orator and a statesman; among orators and statesmen, a clever coxcomb. He is a man of no originality of either thought or expression; has made a character for himself simply by expressing in more neat phraseology, and at a riper moment of the public ear, what Mr. Hume has been boring the House with since he became a member of it. The pamphlet on "Corn and Currency" is clever, but only as a well-written and condensed statement of what has been repeated twenty times over by others; and so with his speeches last session on the Civil List. Such a man must always be a most useful ally, whether for attack or defence; but for the very same reason will never rank higher than an ally. Had he "the stuff in him," as Mr. Windham used to say, he had a fine opportunity in reply last night (the 20th) to George Dawson and Sir Robert Peel. He made the attempt, but evidently came off but "second best." Talking of Sir Robert Peel, I never heard the ex-Home Secretary so elaborately jesuitical, nor so Joseph Surface candour professing. Mr. Hume's reply was much to the point, and shows how much the Member for Middlesex has improved by practice.

The above described constitute the Cabinet. The other Members of the Goverument in our next.

THE BALLOT.

In order to arrive at a right conclusion on the question of the Ballot, it is only necessary to have a clear view of the object proposed, and to consider the means with relation to the end. The fitness of secret, or of open voting, must be tried with reference to the purpose of the suffrage. Keeping the design steadily in mind, we shall see whether the power of the instrument recommended for compassing it works in the right direction, and we shall know how to rate the value of the circumstances attending the expedient, and to distinguish those that are important from those that are secondary or indifferent. The ordinary mode of discussing the Ballot may be compared to this manner of talking-" A ship is preferable to a coach. A ship allows of the exercise of your limbs, and exalts your ideas; it is the noblest work of human art, and the thoughts associated with it are of the bold, the frank, the free-Britain's glory, and Britain's prosperity! Coaches cramp your limbs, or perhaps break your necks; they are effeminate contrivances, and the attendant circumstances are of no sort of dignity; the coachman drinks, and the wheels grind and rattle, and the dirt or dust flies."-"True: but our journey is by land; our road lies over hills; we have to do with an element, for traversing which the ship has no aptitude; and we endure the petty inconveniences or humilities of the coach for the uses of the coach. Granted that it is not noble-granted that it is not poetic-granted that we cannot fill our pride with phrases boastful of its wooden panels—yet it carries us to our destination, which is what we want of it, and cannot well accomplish without it.”

What would be thought of the wits of the man, who, in answer to the recommendation to set up a steam-engine in a factory, should object to the noise? The reply would be-It is not intended for a dormitory, but a mill.

The arguments for the Ballot are crossed by objections as absurd as those we have supposed. The errors arise from inattention to the constitutional object.

The intention of the suffrage must be understood, before the best means of delivering it can be considered. Is it, then, intended that an elector should elect?—is the franchise entrusted to him for his exercise, or for the exercise of it, through him, by another?—is he to be a chooser or an instrument ?—is he to be considered as a free agent, or a person appointed to be played on? The slave's question with his master resolves itself into this-" Is this my body or your's?" The elector's question with his patron is-" Is this my voice or your's?— is it my election or your's?" For what is there a constituency ?—is it that a judgment may be exercised by the persons composing it, or that a body of many humble people may be swayed by a few powerful individuals? If the powerful few ought to determine the votes, then why is a nominal constituency interposed, which is a trouble and a deceit? Society will, surely, not allow that the elective franchise should be given to a small number of wealthy men, on the condition of their bullying or bribing a considerable number of persons in appointed districts. Yet that is the effect of giving to the weak the Feb. 1831.-VOL. XXXI. NO. CXXII.

H

franchise, and not giving them also protection against the influences of the strong.

The short preliminary question is, whether the votes of the constituency should be free from all influences but those which enter into a choice, or whether the votes shall be mere expressions of the dictating power-and, in fact, tokens of a degree of wealth competent to a certain extent of bribery, intimidation, or both? Does the genius of the Constitution say to the rich-" Show that you can deprave, show that you can destroy independence; suppress convictions, and, per fas aut nefas, procure suffrages, and you shall be legislators, or the makers of legislators?" There are many, we know, who will frankly reply that the elector should be under the influences, that he is unqualified to exercise a discretion, and that his suffrage should be determined by any one who by any means, and for any object, can obtain an ascendency over him. But why, we then ask, the cumbrous process of the influence?-why not give directly to the class who influence the power they obtain by influencing?-why not spare the mockery of an election, where election there is none ?-why not spare the troublesome farce of the canvass, the demoralization of bribery, and the cruelty of intimidation ?-why waste these bad forces? From the state of things, it might be inferred that there was in electioneering some pleasure, like that of hunting; and that the constituency was preserved as the game, honesty hunted down for sport, and venality bred as foxes-every man who is in for the brush seated, as it were, for that evidence of his skill, forwardness, and success in the sport.

If the constituency is to be subservient, why have a constituency? -why continue a false pretence, a practical lie?—why not substitute for it the will of the few who have the influencing power? If it be admitted that the constituency should exercise a free and conscientious choice, then we have the object before us, which will enable us to avoid error in considering the question of the Ballot. The end understood, it is easy to test the fitness of the means.

The objections urged against the Ballot are, that it is un-English and cowardly; that it would generate hypocrisy, lying, and venality. The reproachful descriptions, of "masking," "cloaking," "wrappingup," "sneaking," "skulking," come in aid of the above specific objections, and cover the project with all words and phrases of distasteful sound.

The Ballot is certainly un-English, inasmuch as it has never been applied to the protection of parliamentary elections in England, and in the same sense, steam was un-English before it was made the moving power of our engines, though its capacity for dancing pot-lids was familiar to every British kitchen. So, too, with the Ballot; in its meanest uses it is familiar and accredited, and as English, as instructing servants to tell fibs, as cant, or any other custom. It is English in our clubs; it is English for certain purposes in Parliament, and it is even English in the Church, in which, on particular occasions, it is directed by the Archbishop of Canterbury to be used.

To object that the Ballot is un-English, is simply to imply that it is unused in respect of the required application, which is near akin to stark nonsense. Bribery and corruption, intimidation and oppression, Liverpool, Stamford, and Newark, are undeniably English; and if the Ballot, un-English as it may be, is antagonist to them, we should re

joice in setting its un-Englishness against the English abominations to which we have alluded. If it were settled and certain that English institutions embraced every perfection, and that there was nothing good beyond their range, we should admit force in the objection of un-English; but the possession of all excellences is not yet proved to be ours, and there may be wise and politic expedients, not yet included in our customs.

Cowardice is the next reproach urged against the Ballot. Here, as in the treatment of all other cavils, the objection is to be considered with relation to the object. What is required? Is it a display of bravery, or the exercise of an honest judgment? If the purpose of an election be to put the virtue of the feeble many in contest with the power of the strong few, and all the cruel evils of the strife are held compensated by occasional examples of daring devotion and sacrifice to the public good, we grant that nothing must be interposed to shroud the display of courage. If we are to have a bear-baiting or a dog-fight, no barriers should interrupt the rage of the performers or the view of the spectators. If the people are to be tormented for the eliciting of their virtues of fortitude and constancy, the open arena for the struggle, the beholding and encouraging of it, is right appropriate. If, as Bacon says of men of the nobler natures, like aromatic herbs, they must be crushed to make them render up their finer essence, it is right to pitch them in the field against the grinding powers of a mighty aristocracy. But if it be not this exercise of the people's bravery that is needed-if it be not sought to engage them in a battle where many must fall for one who triumphs, but only to obtain from them the expression of a conscientious choice-if judgment, in short, and not daring, is the thing chiefly wanted, then we may rate courage or cowardice as secondary considerations in the question, and not the tests of the utility of the Ballot. Courage is a very noble quality, it abounds more in Britain than in any nation of the globe; for Britons, who best know their own possessions, are never weary of saying and singing so, and the fate of their arms has not belied the boast of their tongues; and why then should such an abject fear be betrayed lest the Ballot should introduce so un-English a weakness as cowardice? Courage is a fine thing, but a blessed one is security, absence of strife and irritation, and the presence of peace and goodwill among men. When the Police was established, it was condemned as un-English, like the Ballot; not that a protective force was unEnglish, but that the arrangements for its efficiency, and the uniformity of the men's coats in colour and cut, were un-English-the true British Watch having ever hobbled in a blanket wrapper, apt for slumber; but strong as prejudice was against the innovation, it was never said to be likely to beget cowardice. A civilized people may seek protection without cowardice. To guard men from the thief, the assassin, the ruffian, the robber, is not to make them cowards. No one has ever contended that the courage of the people should be exercised by leaving them exposed to the attacks of plunderers. No one has contended that, to give them the protection of a Police, is to make them pusillanimous; as it is seen that more of good is gained in peace and security, than is lost by taking from men that guardianship of their own safety which nurses a bold and resolute spirit.

Experience shows that, after these abatements, courage enough remains in society for all the uses of a great and proud nation.

If we believed, as we do not, that any considerable degree of courage were maintained by the system of open voting, we should not scruple to risk it or forego it, in consideration of the larger amount of political advantage belonging to secret voting; but we see nothing in the circumstances of open voting to favour courage, and we perceive much to depress it. The spirits of men will faint under an unequal strife, such as that between the many and the potent few, and a craven, abject submission, pretending to be preference, is the result. There are occasional exceptions-the worm turns now and then. Something moves to enthusiasm, and there is a struggle, perhaps successful, perhaps enough to show the virtuous dispositions of the people, though ending in disaster and ruin to themselves; but a relapse into bondage is sure to follow, for the foul influences are ever acting, while enthusiasm has only its fits and rare causes of excitement. In declamatory harangues, it is sounding to rate the standard of public duty high, and to propose the devotion of a Curtius as example; but in practice it is neither to be expected nor to be desired, that men should at any moment be ready to sacrifice the life-bread of themselves and their children for political objects, not of the first magnitude and import. The Ballot allows the voter to give way to his impulses, without apprehension of a patron's displeasure or a tyrant's oppressions-or even of his companion's sneer and his society's reproaches. It makes no call on his courage, which will probably not decline because it is not taxed on an occasion which to most appears too slight for any great exercise of daring.

Hypocrisy is the next allegation against the Ballot. A hypocrite is justly odious, because he pretends to some virtue which he does not possess, or lays claim to the merit of some good action which he does not perform. No one would reproach another with the hypocrisy of pretending to be something worse than he really is. We never hear upbraidings of the hypocrisy of falsely assuming the thief or the swindler. Now the hypocrite in the Ballot, who has promised and professed to vote for one candidate, and has, in truth, voted for another, and in accordance, not with his pledges, but his secret preference, or the dictates of his judgment, this man is the hypocrite whose action is better than his pretences, whose professions have been false, while his conduct has been precisely that which the rule of duty required of him.

The hypocrite at the open hustings, on the other hand, who pretends to act according to his conviction, votes consistently with his professions, but against the rule of duty, which demands the delivery of his suffrage according to the dictates of his judgment. It is farther clear, that the man who would be a hypocrite at the Ballot, would also be a hypocrite at the open poll; for the influences that at the Ballot would induce him to make professions of a purpose contrary to his performance, would at the open poll cause him to make professions of a choice opposed to his convictions, but accordant with his vote.

The difference between the two hypocrisies is this, that, in the Ballot, the profession is false, but the action proceeds in the line of public duty, (or, in other words, the choice is the choice of real