SPECTAToltS LIBRARY.

On Wages and Combinations. By It. 'rorrens, Esq., M.P. F.R.S.. Longman mid Co. Edinhurgh Review. No. CN.Vl l. Article " Changes required in the Gorn•Laws."

TIJOCIA of the Contdituticm compared with its Practice in ancient and modern times; with an Inquiry how far the late Reform of Parliament is or is not cottsisteut with the principles of the Constittation, either in theory or practice ; concluding with Plans for Relieving the Public. Disorders, and for Changing the present System of Government, in a manner to prevent such disorders from ever happening again. By Jaws It. Pernard, Esq. Fellow of King's College, Cambridge. Bidyteay.

An I I istorical and Descriptive Account of Persia, from the earliest ages to the present time sitti a glet;iiled View of its Resources, Government, Populat Mil, Natural II dory. and the Character of its Inhabitants, particulatly of the W:111010IiII,g Tribes; hit:hiding a Description of Afghanistan and Relooelaistan. Ity Lunt s It. Fraser. Esq. Author of " 'Travels in K horasan," Ike. (Edinburgh Cabinet Li brary, No. XV.) Olimr and Boyd. NATInani. -Warmly.

The Nii,ellattv of Natural History. Edited by Sir Thomas Dick Lauder. Vol. II.

.The Feline 5i1eeies. By William Minn!, Esq., NI. R. C. S. &e Smith and Milli'.

CORN AND COMBINATIONS.

TIE conclusion arrived at in last week's Spectator was, that the productiveness of agricultural industry is the real cause of wages

and profits ; both being, high when all the land under cultivation is very fertile—both, unlese some artificial cause is in operation, being low when the supplies of food have to be drawn from sterile soils. No one denies that the productiveness of the inferior lands in England is very slight, awl that food is dear, and to the masses scarce; the low rate tif wages and profits is notorious. Front all which we inferred, that the Corn-laws were at the root of our economical evils; and concluded, that it %vas wiser for the operatives to com bine with their employers to get rid of the Corn-laws, than against them to force an increase of wages, which, if accomplished, could only be of temporary duration, to be followed by a permanent fall. But there are other evils than the Corn-laws. Food is indeed the most important element of production ; entering, directly or indirectly, into the cost of every commodity, from the clouted shoon of the peasant to the costly robes of the monarch. It is also the only true test of the real value of wages ; for every man is rich or poor in proportion to the quantity of food he can com mand. In an advanced state of society, food, however, is not t he only element of production. Barns and ittanufitetories must be erected, in which to work ; machines and implements must be constructed, with whieh to work ; ships and vehicles must be built, in which the raw material and the finished manufacture may be transported; and materials are required on which labour may be employed. A government which gave free scope to industry, would cautiously avoid enhancing the cost of the material substances on which it works. Our legislators boast of protecting industry : but how is it protected? Corn is de facto prohibited; the price of timber—the staple material of ships, of buildings, of imple ments of labour, and of vehicles of transport—is nearly deubled by heavy taxation ; and, with r. few trifling exceptions, duties are levied upon every article of material on which the industry of man is exercised. The shipowners complain that they cannot compete with the foreigner ; they are combining to call for more protection. Their statements are somewhat exaggerated; and they would not obtain the freights of the foreigner, were strangers prohibited our ports tomorrow; but the trade and the carriage would be destroyed together. However, admit that foreigners have annihilated our commercial marine, and who could wonder ?

The Englishman must pay high wages to enable the seamen's families to be maintained at home on dear bread; he must maintain his sailors at sea on dear stores; he must build his ships with tim ber made dear by taxation, and pay dear for the labour with which they are constructed, owing to the high price of corn. Nor is Ibis all : as the manufacturer would not only obtain more food from the foreigner in exchange for his present surplus produce, but as a demand for more manufactures wuuld take place, and there would be a greater demand for his labour—so the shipowner is not only forced to compete with strangers at considerable disadvantage, but is deprived of the freights which would arise from bringing corn to England and taking back goods. In the opinion of many persons practically acquainted with the Northern nations, our protective system operates still further against ourselves; diverting labour to manufactures and the sea, which would otherwise be employed in agriculture.* But man cannot live by bread alone. In a Northern climate, it' he is to be kept in full vigour for hard work, he requires meat; and meat is prohibited as per margin :t awl this pretty well closes the account of the chief monopolies of the English landlords. In the remainder, they are suffering parties with the people. We will not discuss the abstract question of luxuries. Whatever forms ixtrt of the subsistence of the bulk of the people, is a necessary, let philosophers call it what they may. Sugar is a necessary ; coffee and cocoa are necessaries tobacco is a necessary to many ; and brandy, partaking of the character of medisme, is -somewhat more. How have our protecting legislators protected the people in these matters? They have, as far as in them lies, prohibited them all ; or if in the two instances of tobacco and brandy

0 A grant deal of practical information will be fo ind on tlw subject or ships and the shipping interest of the North of Europe and I heat Britain, in a pamphlet pub!ished. or rather imported, hy E. Wu.son, under the title of Ifr,narks on the Arerayes uf Haw Intry, end on the eanonerrial Pu.iry of Great Britain. The reader who is Out an underwriter may skip the first sixteen pages.

Bacon. per cwt.. II. tls.

The import at ion of Beef, Lamb, Mutton, Pork, Cattle, She.p,ald Sw'ne, is tro!Ilsiteil. Rutter, per cwt., I/. Cheese, per cwt., Itts.fid. • prohibition has not followed, it was no fault of the rate of duty, Sugar—unless it be the produce of the Mauritius or of the limited territory and worn-out soil of the West India Islands—is subject to a duty of three guineas per hundredweight; which being as much as the retail price in London, duty included, no sugar from South America or China is ever consumed in England. The coffee and cocoa of our American Colonies are protected by duties of about 150 per cent.; and the 400 per cent. on brandy, and the 6u0 to 1,200 per cent. on tobacco are notorious. Put all these things together; add to them the protecting duties on manufactures— which. whether wanted or not, the manufacturers will deem themselves entitled to demand, so long as the taxes on subsistence remain—and the cost of living in England is perhaps nearly doubled by our suicidal policy.

It cannot, however, be too often impressed upon the public, that the mere immediate reduction is not the principal matter to regard. At present, by refusing to receive the productions of other countries, we limit alike their produce and their demand. The fertile plains of Russia awl Poland, the rich soil of the valley of Mississippi, is in a state of nature, or half ontilled : the inhabitants scattered, half barbarous, and ill-provided with the second necessaries of life, because they have no objects for industry—have: no motive to improve or extend cultivation, for they can meet no market for their raw produce. With some qualification, a similar remark may be extended to the teeming plains of South America, and even to our own Hindostan. Remove the causes of these letters on industry—allow the cheap raw produce of new and fertile countries to be freely exchanged for the cheap finished manufactures of England—and a career of prosperity, arising from an interchange of benefits, will be opened to each, of which it is difficult to conceive the extent or the results.

So far as regards corn, this view is indeed contradicted by the landlords. The farmer, say they, is the manufacturer's best customer ; if you throw open the trade in corn, you will lose haw This is the a priori reasoning of squires. In the common meaning of the term, he is the best customer who pays the highest price—or in other words, who gives the greatest number of " things useful and desirable,in return for what he receives, The foreigner may or may not do this to the same extent a the Ihrmer does it at present ; but the people would like to try. It' the foreigner disappoints the prediction of the squirearchy—well. It he does not—things remain as they are ; corn will continue at about the same price, and neither squires nor limners sutler ham.

Let us, however, look at the matter a little more closely. The population of Great Britain is sixteen millions ; of which bout one-third—or say six millions—is connected with agriculture. The European population of Russia, Poland, Prussia, and Denmark, is not far short of sixty millions; that of the United States nearly thirteen millions. At this rate, a five trade in corn would give 73 customers for 10. Many of these millions, no doubt, would at first take nothing from us; not one of them perhaps would at present purchase in the same proportion as the home consumer; but their numbers, their wants, and their powers of production, are sufficient to make us easy at first starting, and more than easy after a few years.

This argument, moreover, contemplates the out-and-out destruction of the farmers, and their labourers. But is this likely to happen ? Will the bulk of the agriculturists suffer by the change, so much as they will inevitably suffer by the maintenance of the present system ? We imagine not. All the better lands will be as well cultivated as heretofore; competition will most probably compel a better cultivation ; the rent will decline, but the farmer's profits will rise in the same proportion as profits generally are raised. All lands that are well adapted to the production of cattle and sheep, but which the high prices of the war diverted ti arable uses, and which the subsequent monopoly kept to those purposes, would revert to their original destination. In very many eases, the farmer (in the phrase of the author of EtsJand and America) would raise meat by means of the plough. All soils adapted for any peculiar production—such as fruits and vegetables —would change a careless and beggarly for a careful and expensive cultivation. The most barren soils alone would cease to be cultivated; and even these, when favourably situated either from their vicinity to great towns or to a line of road, would frequently, as the pleasure-grounds of villas, employ more labour than at present. Nor let it be said, "Give us time to work these alterations: let the change, 0 legislators ! lie gradual.In manufactures, especially by machinery, there is some ground for a gradual change; for there is no limit to production except the amount of the raw material,—quantities of' welch are frequently on hand, and a little of which in the finest fabrics goes a lwig way. But nature herself has set a limit to the immediate production of food. Were the ports thrown open two months hence, the fall in corn would not be very considerable; the foreign agriculturists being shut out from any regular market, can scarcely at present be said to raise any produce for exportation. They store up such surplus as remains from their own use, and wait till our ports are open. At first, therefore, prices abroad would in a measure be governed by prices in England. It is true, the increased cultivatioa of' the foreigner Would bring them down ; but it could not, from the nature of the article, be under two or three years. He must effect changes first, and then he would have to grow his crop. Surely the time necessary to enable the clumsy labour and scanty capital of the East of Europe, and even of the United States, to work an alteration, would wake for the well-trained

and skilful labourers and the more wealthy farmers of England.

Let us not then be deceived by the jargon of " the home market," or by clamours for gradual changes. The last is not required; tlw first, under the guise of tenderness for wages and profits, flimsily conceals an inordinate regard for rents. But is the real value of rents—their power over the necessaries and luxuries of life—likely to be diminished? We incline, bold as it may appear, to answer, No. With the advancing wealth of the country, all land required for other purposes than raising corn would increase in value with the increasing prosperity of the manufacturers. Nor should it be forgottem-that of all monopolies a monopoly of food is the most useless to its possessors. In theory, the benefit should be great to those who have gotten an exclusive privilege of supplying a commodity not extensively used by each individual, 4ecause the effects of its reaction upon themselves as consumers is almost unfelt; though in practice the idleness and insolence of monopolists neutralize this advantage. But any one save a country gentleman would see immediately, that a monopoly of food by a class, operated mischievously upon that class itself, enhancing, nearly by the amount of the monopoly, the price of everything they required. The cost of the bread and meat consumed by the household of a landlord are enhanced by the protecting-duties ; dear corn makes dear horses ; " high prices " give rise to high wages; which are felt in the cost of his carriages and his furniture, the clothes of his family and the liveries of his servants, and operate from the salary of his valet down to the wages of his kitchen-maid. Sleeping or waking, at home or abroad, the effects of dear food are befiwe him. Yet, such is the obtuseness of the animal, that, in the words of the Premier, " he will stand or fall by his darling monopoly. But, looking still closer, how have the Corn-laws hitherto worked —haw are they likely to work hereafter—both upon farmers and landlords? They have raised an expectation of high price which has never been realized. They induced farmers to offer rents which they could never pay. Those who had little capital racked the land, ruined themselves and the farm, and generally left the landlonl minus at the end. Those who possessed property paid their rent for a time, out or their capital; and were only not ruined so quickly as their poorer fellows. In many cases of each cass, perceutage reductions or allowances, or payments on account, or some such schemes—each indicative of something rotten—were put in practice; but mostly too late, awl mostly in vain. So much for "our best customers." How fared the landlords ? They fancied themselves possessed or incomes which they were fated never to clutch and they lived up to their fancy. They spent, not what

they h fa

ad, but what they thought they should have. They fixed their style of living, they fashioned their establishments, they framed their settlements and other rent-charges, not upon their real, but their nominal income; tor indeed were they likely to do otherwise, for what their real income might turn out, it was impossible the any body to tell. Such a state of things must inevitably end in ruin. Can it be for the advantage of any one that such a state of things should continue ? Most assuredly not. The men who possess the prudence and the means necessary to avert ruin, will benefit by having a knowledge of their exact situation distinctly placed before them. All the mischief that a sudden change can do to those whose ruin is inevitable, will be to ruin them quickly. And, after a very long consideration upon the point, we have come to the conclusion, that where a complete alteration must be effected, a radical and a rapid one is the best for all parties. A gradual change works so gradually, that it is frequently unfelt by those whom it should benefit; whilst the very slowness of its progress induces those who might extricate themselves to continue a useless struggle, and finally renders the individual injury more extensive, more cruel, and more severe. Should the proposed changes—extensive as they are—be made simultaneously ? Such ought undoubtedly to be the case. The corn, the timber, the Colonial monopolies, should be removed together; the taxes on materials got rid of at once; the protection on manufactures abolished. It may, indeed, be asked, Where is the statesman whose reputation, skill, and nerve, are sufficient to work these extensive changes? and we can only answer, Not in the Cabinet. But it by no means follows that if we cannot do all, we should therefore do nothing. The Corn-laws, we again repeat, though not the whole of our economical evils, are the greatest in ti.cdtvelces, and are at once the foundation and the key stone of all the others. Let them be totally removed—let them be finally settled—and the agriculturists will at once know their exact position. Land will no longer (as the Edinburgh Review truly States has hitherto been the case) be kept in low and slovenly

from the " general conviction that a change of some sort or the other must take place." The landlords will no longer form an isolated " order," opposed to the national will, and thwarting the national interests; but will be inlisted in the cause of freedom themselves. As long as the Corn-laws remain, they have the kindness of fellow-feeling for all monopolists. Remove them, and they will rank amongst their bitterest enemies. When the bread monopoly is once got rid of, the landlords will take care that all the other monopolies shall shortly follow.

A respectable correspondent is apprehensive, that, in the first paper upon this subject, we " seemed to give some encouragement to that dangerous error of the Ric Mtn° Economists, which attributes the fall in wages and profits to a necessity for resorting to inferior soils." " Permit me," he continues, "to stmest to you, that so long as soils of the very first quality remain unoccupied within an easy distance, there can he no such ra.cessitv. The only circumstances which can force the cultivation of inferior soils (and thereby lower wages and profits), are either restrictions on the importation of food, in exchange for manufactures, or gross neglect (as a nation) of the resource of migration to rich soils, which is always open."

We think, on referring to the paper, he will find that we came to nearly the same conclusion. In selecting an instance for popular illustration, it was necessary to confine the view to a single country. AVe thought, however, that we had sufficiently guarded against the " dangerous error of the Rteanno Economists," by the qualification, " if a nation were altogether confined to its own soil for its supplies of food," &c.—by the note, wherein we stated that we inclined to believe the various improvements in productive power, with the greater capability in the labourer of bearing labour, would, under a system of perfect freedom, altogether wottralize the decreasing fertility of the soil—as well as by the general scope of the argument, which aimed at showing, " that so long as people," in the language of our correspondent, " rtfit.se to purchase cheap food grown on rich foreign soils, profits and wages will of course fall." We (lid not, indeed, allude to another very important matter touched upon by our correspondent,—namely, Colonizatiou ; for the demands on the space of a weekly journal render a subject like the Corn.laws sufficient to grapple with at once. Our readers will, however, admit that Colonization has not been neglected in the Specialty. At the same time, we gladly avail ourselves of this opportunity of observing, that a comprehensive plan of Colonization would easily remove any surplus of agricultural labour consequent upon a change in the Corn-laws. Surely, when Government gave twenty millions to the West India Planters—as good as gave another million to the Irish Clergy—and have for years past been in the habit of granting millions upon millions for public works of doubtful promise or merely local utility—it could not with any grace refuse a few thousands for the purpose of removing the surplus labour of the country to another and a richer field. Or, which would perhaps be equally as beneficial, let them grant a gratuitous charter to that Company whose prototype Lori GODERICH, under the leadership of Mr. Have had the merit of extinguishing about a year ago.

BERNARD'S THEORY OF THE CONSTITUTION.

THIS is a strange volume. The product of some ability, some shrewdness, much reading, and sonic reflection; but very

crotchety, valueless for practical purposes, and ill adapted for popular circulation,—for which, looking at the lofty purposes of the author, we imagine it was designed.

Our glorious and initnitable Constitution, virtually defunct since the time of ELIZABETH at least, is Mr. BERNARD'S theme : to revive it is his object. With this view, he investigates at length the original theory of the British Constitution, and its ancient, or rather its true practice, till the commencement of the Civil Wars. He next examines the workings of the pseudo Constitution under the Commonwealth, the Protectorate, and the latter STUARTS, till the Revolution. He then traces it frotn the time of the " glorious and immortal memory," down to the passing of "time Bill ;" intermingling the whole with some digressive disquisitions touching the characters of C.ESAR, HANNIBAL, CROMWELL, NAPOLEON, and the Duke of WELLINGTON.

Though possessing a truly British mind, truth obliges us to own that Mr. BERNARD does not always write in a "truly British ,spirit ;" for he asserts that " the British Constitution is not to be looked upon as a thing of British invention and origin ! It had its birth," says he, "amongst the earliest institutions of man. The old Roman Constitution, as established by Romulus, was similar in all its leading characteristics to the British. That of Sparta was similar likewise." The objects of each, or at all events thc• object of ours, was to give a preference to agriculture, as the most important employment; " national industry, if left to itself, without some leading principles of philosophy to direct it," being apt to run into wrong channels. Agriculture, however, rests upon a " high aristocratical basis ;" and hence a powerful Aristocracy, a powerful House of Lords,and an aristocratical House of Commons, are necessary to the successful working of land and the Constitution. In the better periods or our history, these aristocratic desiderata were to be found before a Democracy, prone to encourage the industry of towns (i.e. trade and ma nu factu res),had deprived the Lauded interest of the power to protect their game or their corn, their sheep or their

lambs, their ox or their ass, or any thing that is theirs. In those primitive times, too, the Monarch, though responsible, was powerful ; the democratic House of Commons had not rendered him a mere puppet iu their hands. It was his to "interfere authoritatively on special occasions. He would not now, 11w instance, if' he had the power and did his duty, "look with indifference upon the contri

vances of men of ingenuity and capital for economizing labour; but would take care in due season so to regulate all inventions in

machinery, that whilst no discouragement was held out to im provements, no injury was done to the working man." He would have put an end to the subdivision of estates in Ireland; have re strained the squires in their rural amusements (this would have been useful); have granted to some, licences to live in London, and sent others to their country-seats, to look after their estates

and the interests of the working people, and to give them piecrust when theywanted bread. In short, he would be "ready to step in, as occasion might require, either to stop the enactment of bad laws, or to prevent the execution of good ones, when impera

tive circumstances make such interference necessary." The part the people ought to play in the game of balancing the Constitution, is neither broadly told nor clearly indicated ; but as all our evils have arisen front the growing power and usurpations of the House of Commons, we can only guess, from an isolated expression, that constitutionally their functions w ere confined to the old practice of " watch and ward."

But perfection is not for earth. Though the Constitution formerly. " worked well upon the whole, yet its theory was never properly carried into exeeution." And even if it had been, what then? 'There must be an end of all things mundane, and why not of the British Constitution? For where is that of Sparta? where is that of Rome? And why should the imitation be immortal, when the original was perishable? Yet the manner of its fall is worthy cf note : but for that we must rekr to the volume.

" 'Twere long to tell, and sad to trare,

Each step 110111 splendour to disgrace : Enough nu foreign foe could quell

Its soul."

The House of Commons—the Democracy—did the deed ; MrPeer, and Mr. PEEL with his Bill, being in at the film] death. Yet there is balm le Gilead. The Constitution may he made to rise again like the pleenix from its ashes, in all the vigour of youth. The details of the revivification are to be unfolded in a future volume; the heads alone are indicated in the present. One theoretical essential is the discovery or the " origin of evil ;" another—we tremble at the constructive treason to the ruling dynasty, and stand aghast at the lurking ambition of the project —another is to make the monarchy ciectiee, with, of course, a power in the Monarch of " interkrenee upon special occasions." The execution of the reform will depend upon the " whole English working people," and a competent leader : but where is he to be found ? The Whigs are truly dctined as men who premise much and perform little. The Duke of WELLI NGTON IS un pen 10(8.01 be has, moreover, never been but a second-rate man. Messrs. Coenerr and Arrwoo) have clear ideas upon the workings of the Currency question ; but their views as to the past are partial— with regard to the future, a veil is upon their eyes. Where, then, are we to fly for refoge? Mr. Beesaee leaves the questiou in Inedio: but we shall not. No mind is eompetent to wurk out our salvation but that which conceived the plan.

There is, in sober seriousness, some ability ift tie, author, and some mei it in the work. his style is scholarlike and respectable ; his reading extensive ; his judgment, upon palpable and unconnected points, frequently not deficient either in shrewdness or soundness. But he has undertaken a work for which his kikrinat eel, his studies, and his mental training, had not qualified hint. W' it hunt any apparent knowledge of politics or political economy, ho has selected a subject which would task a master of both ; awl he has succeeded as a man might be supposed to succeed, who should undertake a treatise on surgery and medicine, in utter iguthance of the functions of any organs of the body or of the properties of any drug. His titlepage tells us he has had a " University education:" ins is not the only mind which has been spoiled by that advantage.

FRASER'S Pens! A.

THE proprietors of the Edinburgh Cabinet Library were fortunate in obtaining the assistance of Mr. FeeaSEn to write an historical and descriptive account of Persia. Ilis official employments gave him some insight into the forms and resources of its government, as well as iuto the practices of its monarch and his ministers. his travels made him well acquainted with the characters of the people and the features of the country. Accident or natural taste directed him to the examination of Persian literature; and, if not profoundly skilled in its letters or its history, he could tell at once where his deficiencies might be supplied.. Add to these qualifications, a practical skill in composition, a vivid and graphic descriptive power, with imaginative and creative genius ; and the reader has an idea of the qualifications which, by means of Cheap Literature, have been brought to the concoction of a thick and closely, printed five shilling volume, pretty well sprinkled with wood-cuts, and illustrated with a map.

As we intimated last week, a good general account of Persia was a desideratum in popular English literature. Some information respecting its ancient condition is to be found scattered up and down the Classics ; modern travellers have given full and clear accounts of particular periods ; Oriental scholars (a tnong whom Sitel N Met. corm deserves especial mention) have done a good deal towards illustrating its history,antiquities, and institutions ; but all these were inaccessible to the public. Language, price, style, or want of leisure, rendered them sealed books to that " immense number of readers who possess a strong desire for knowledge without having the means of access to voluminous and expensive works," and in part even to the general scholar. FRASER'S Persia is, therefore, not only an indispensable volume for the little libraries of economists both of time and money, but may advantageously occupy a place in the largest collections. The work commences with a description of the extent and boundaries of modern Persia; a view of the nature and aspect of the country, and its cities; with an enumeration and geographical account of its various provinces. Two chapters are devoted to its natural history and antiquities ; two to its ancient religion and its ancient history. Its modern annals are dated from the Mohammedan conquest, and brought down to the present time. A view of its government and resources, and of the present state of reli gion, science, and literature, follows. A very admbfaitle &nd animated description of the classes, character, and habits, of the Persian people, with a brief account of Afghanistan, conSpletes the contents of the volume.

Our first extract shall be from the description of the general aspect of Persia.

In picturing the aspect of a Persian landscape, the reader must divest himself of every image which gives interest and beauty to a European scene. No green plains nor grassy slopes there greet the eye—no winding rivers nor babbling streams—no majestic woods—no parks nor inchisures—no castles nor seats ernbosomed in venerable trees—no sneet retired cottages peeping through foliag-F--nothing, in short, calculated to suggest ideas of peace, comfort, or security. When the traveller looks down from the pass which he has laboriously climbed, his wearied eye wanders over a uniform brown expanse, losing itself in distance, or bounded by blue mountains, arid and rocky as those on which he stands. Should cultivation exist within the range of his vision, he could scarcely distinguish it, except in the spring, from the other parts of the plain, which it can hardly be said to diversify. Is there a village or a town in view, all he can make out is a line or a spot, chiefly: remarkable for the gardens which usually surround such abodes, and not otherwise to be known front the far more abundant ruine that are everywhere scattered over the country. The broken caravansary, with its black arches—the square mud•walled fortalice, with its crenellated towers—or the decayed castle of some bandit chief, are objects more hi unison with the scene, and which give birth to painful but not ill-grounded snspicions of the melancholy condition of the inhEibitants. Such is the scenery which, during many successive days, presents itself to the traveller throughout the greater part of Persia. Its extensive deserts are unquestionably impressive objects; yet so dreary is the country in general, that the difference between them and the rest of the soil is by no means very discernible.

Disappointed with the face of nature, the stranger seeks in vain fincomfort in the appearance of the towns. Forming, it is probable, his ideas of sorb eelebrated places as Ispahan, Bagdad, Shiraz, Bussora, or Tabriz, upon a fanciful model, embellished %vial Oriental domes, minarets, and columns, he can scarcely be prepared to witness the shapeless mass of ruins and filth, which even the best of these_cities will present to his view; while all that they really contain of wealth, cleanliness, or convenience, is carefully concealed from the eye.

Surveyed fioni a commanding situation, a Persian town appears particularly III onotonous and uninteresting. The houses, built of mud, do not differ in colour from the earth on which they stand ; and from their lowness and irregular coast r tietion resemble casual inequalities on its surface rather than human dwellings. Even those of the great seldem exceed one story, and the lofty walls which ;.1e-reel them from sight produce a blank and cheerless effect. There arc no public buildings except the mosques, merlressas or colleges, and caravansaries ; and these, usually mean like the rest, lie bid in the midst of the mouldering relies of finaner edifices. The general coup &wit embraces an assemblage of flat roofs, little rounded cupolas, and long walls of loud, thickly interspersed with ruins. Minarets and domes of any magnitude are rare, and few possess claims to elegance or grandeur. Even the smoke, tvhich, toweling from the eldninies, and hovering over.the-roofs of an English city, sng-gests the existence of life and comfort, does not here enliven the dreary scene ' • and the only relief to its monotony is to be sought in the gardens, adorned with chinar, cypress, :Lod fi tilt-trees, which, to a greater or less extent, are seen near all the towns and villages of Persia. Oil approaching these places, even such of them as have been capitals of the ('iii lit', the traveller casts his eyes around for those marks oe human intercourse, and listens for that hom of men, which never fail to cheer the heart and raise the spirits of the wayfarer ; but he looks and listens in vain. Instead of the well-ordered road, bordered si ith lw.dg-erows, inclosures, and gay habitations, and leading in due course to the imposing street of lofty and substantial edifices, lie who approaches an Eastern town must thread the narrow and dirty lane, rugged zis tlw torrent's bed, confined by elccayed mud-walk or high inclosures of siin-dtkil bricks, which shut up whatever of verdure the place can boast ; be must pick his uncertain way among, heights and hollows—the fragments of old buildings and the pits which have supplied the materials for new ones. At length reaching the wall, generally in a state of dilapidation, which girds the city, and enteting the gateway, where lounge a few squalid guards, he finds himself in a sorry bazaar, or perhaps in a confusion of rubbish as shapeless and disorderly as that without, from which he has escaped. In vain he looks for streets ; even houses are scarcely to be discerned amid tbe heaps of mud and ruins, which are burrowed into holes, and resemble the perforation of a gigantic ant's-nest rather than human abodes. The residences of the rich and great, whatever be their internal comfort or luxury, are carefully secluded bv high mud-walls ; and around them, et-en to the very entrances, are clustered the hovels of the poor.

No one defends despotism in the abstract ; but the countervailing advantages of "paternal rule" and the benefits of a "united government' are themes on which Tories delight to dwell. But absolute power, at the best, is like a medicine that kills oftener than cures : and even in the exceptions which dazzle the admirers of vigour, the moral effects of absolute power both upon the tyrant and his slaves are altogether overlooked. The most useful despots, when unrestrained by opinion, have generally shown themselves little better than dmenons. PETER the Great tortured Cossacks to death, and sacrificed hundreds of thousands to capricious improvements. FRANCIS of Austria superintends himself the imprisonment of his Italian disaffected, lest METTERNICH should be negligent or merciful. The prospect does not improve as we travel eastward. Let us take a peep at SHAH ABBAS the Great as a Lindy man.

As a parent and relative, his character appears in a very revolting light. The bitterest foes of an absolute prince ate those of his own household. Abbas had four sous, on whom he doted as long as they were children ; but when they grew op towards manhood, they became Objects of jealousy, if not of hatred; their friends were considered as his enemies, and praises of them were as a knell to his soul. These unhappy feelings were aggravated by the representations of some of his courtiers; and the princes, harassed and disgusted by their father's behaviour towards them, listened to advice which suggested a direct but dangerous way to safety. The eldest, Suffee Mirza, a brave and high-spirited youth, fell the first victim of this fatal suspicion. The veteran whom the king first proposed to employ as the assassin of -his son, tendered his own life as a sacrifice to appease the monarch's anger, but refusesi to cut off the hope of Persia. Another was found less scrupulous. Behbood Khan, a creature of the court, on pretence of a private injury, stabbed the prince as he came from the bath ; but the shelter which he received in the sanctuary of the royal stable, and his subsequent promotion, showed by whom the dagger had been pointed. Neither the tyrant or his instrument, however, remained long unpunished. Abbas, stung with remorse, put to death on various pretexts the nobles who had poisoned his mind against his heir ; while for Behbood he contrived a more ingenious torture,—commanding him to bring the head of his own son. The