The Sun.
London, England, 1838-08-25 00:00:00

LONDON :
SATURDAY EVENING. AUGUST 25, 1838.

At length some of the cunning jugglers of the Tury
camp have recovered their ser.ses from the astonish-
ment caused by the Birmingham avalanche, and begin
to grope and sound to learn whereabout they are, and
what has become of them. They do not yet know
whether they stand on their heads or their heels ;
whether they still live on the green earth, or have fallen
into a worse place—but they are endeavouring to as-
certain. The great blusterer, the very master of all
the Newspaper world, which is in politics what the
sun is in our planetary system, the centre of all Go-
vernment—the ci-devant Thunderer, instead of anni-
hilating opposition by his dreadful bolts, whines out
his sorrows this morning in the following fashion :

" Rousseau said, half—a
century ago, "Vous avancons
dans le siecle des revolutions.' And accordingly for these
fifty pars revolution has succeeded revolution, not in politics
only, but in every art, pursuit, and career of human life. If
this movement were wholly passed, if• all the disturbed ele-
ments of society had finally subsided, even though they had
settled down into something much less whnlesnme than their
original combinatioi, tl:e occasion for anxiety would be
smaller, the minds of men would presently become accustomed
to the change, and fresh habits and hopes would take root upon
the new ground. like plants upon an alluvial soil. But, un-
happily for us of the present generation, the tide, until very
lately indeed, has shown no tendency to stop ; and wherever
we try to fix an anchor, the ground gives way, and the quick.
sands shift."

The poor Tories are indeed adrift. They cast
their anchor on the operatives ; they got up Conserva-
tive meetings of the working-classes ; they cajoled them
by assuming the character of their friends ; they called
themselves tribunes of the poor ; they thought they
had again securely moored their bark by the chain
prejudice of Church and QUEEN, when the shifting
sand blew up, and behold them again at sea
without a chart or a pilot, lifting up their hands
in agony as if they were helpless and perishing
men. Their present terrors, however, are as ridiculous
as their former arrogance was insulting. Society will
not bide their good pleasure, will not adapt itself to
their procrustean bed, and they fancy as it stretches
itself beyond their model that it must fall all to pieces.
A poor hen who has hatched a brood of ducks, and
flutters and clucks with agony as her foster children
first take to the water, is an apt emblem of our
Thunderer and the Tories, as they behold society
obstinate in obeying its instincts and deaf to their
voice, hastening from under their control.
The Times complains of revolution succeeding re-
volution during the last few years; but at no period
was it different. • Since the first creation of man, or at
least since the beginning of history, society has been
progressive ; or, if it have become stationary, it has
only been thereafter speedily to fall into decay, and make
way for another and a rising people. So certain is this
that all modern writers who have investigated the sub-
ject—and it is only in modern times that' it has been
at all accurately studied—have agreed in deseribinc, the
progressive as the natural and healthy condition of
society, and the stationary, to which our Tories would
hold it, as the commencement of ruin. All its move-
ments may not be healthy, as every running stream is not
sweet water; but stagnant society, like stagnant water, is
always unwholesome. It is flowing, indeed, now with
greater rapidity than in past times ; population is in-
creasing faster than ever before in Europe ; and that
which is the germ and source of all improvement,
carries with it dismay to the stationary and ahuse-

loving Tories.
They are whining and moaning because society
will not stop at the Tory resting-place, but they
might as well complain that the tide flows, or the moon
winds her course in the heavens. What advantage,
too, do they receive from their little nominal superiori-
ties, that they should so lament over their certain pros-
pective loss of them ? Their titles and their decorations,
theirlittle political power, and their greater plunder, make
them neither wiser, better, nor happier than other men-
Their artificial superiorities do not add to their strength
or their acuteness. On the contrary, that competition
of which they are afraid invigorates the body, sharpens
the mind, and adds to the happiness. Lord ELLEN-
BOROUGH or Lord TENTERDEN, labouring sixteen
hours a-day to achieve a Peerage, were probably de-
lighted men, and neither seems to have transmitted
his vigour or his happiness to his successor.
Well, then, the wretched baubles on which the
Tory aristocracy pride themselves, are in reality of no
more value or use than the plumes of coloured