The Sun.
London, England, 1848-08-15 00:00:00

timingiflt

LONDON, TUESDAY, AUGUST 15, Mi.

However much we may be disposed to pursue the
even tenour of our way, careless as to the future,
and indifferent as to the past, the continual recur-
rence of some particular anniversary renders such a
proceeding absolutely impossible. The present day,
the 15th of August, is one of these. It is a day
which brings before us the buried memories of the
past—a day which invests with a peculiar signifi-
cance many of the events,of the passing hour—a day
which, by the associations that it evokes, teaches us
what to look for and what to hope for in the future.
No idle souvenirs are connected with this day—the
memories which it conjures up constitute in them-
selves an epoch, and a momentous epoch, in the his-
tory of the world. The 16th of August irresistibly
recalls to us a 15th of August seventy-nine years
ago, when a new-born infant, breathing for the
first time the breath of life, lay cradled
on a tapestried carpet, representing the heroes
of the Iliad—heroes whose fame he was him-
self destined to emulate and to eclipse. With the
history of that child is inseparably associated the
tistory of the world, or at least of the European
world, during the period of his existence, and hence
the day which -reminds us of the one recalls us to
the other. As he grew to manhood the world in
which he lived was agitated as with a moral tornado.
The chains which bad bound the nations of the earth
for longi centuries were rudely snapped asunder ;
crowns were torn from brows which had seemed only
made to wear them, and thrones laid low, whose
foundations had appeared to be of eternal strength. A
whirlwind passed over the European Continent, ter-
rible and devastating as the Simoom. Every
social landmark was uprooted—in the place of
despotism and servitude all was anarchy and
chaos. Yet, awful and lamentable as were many
of the consequences of that mighty movement, the
spirit which inspired it was sublime, and its primitive
object a most glorious one. Fettered as they were
by the remnants of feudally, a consciousness of their
just rights had imperceptibly infused itself into the
minds of the people ; dreams of liberty haunted their
imaginations—dreams rendered doubly beautiful by
their contrast to the wrongs and the slavery and the
contumely of their waking hours—and their hearts
yearned to realise those visions. The people arose,
strong as a lion aroused from sleep, resistless as a tor-
rent Wasting its boundaries, and remorseless
,as men
maddened by a sense of wrong. This mighty move-
ment, holy in its impulse and awful in its effects,
heaved the surface of society and agitated the
heart of Christendom when he who was
born on the fifteenth of August reached
the years of manhood. He recognised the
revolution, and the revolution recognised him. He
recognised in the spirit by which it was animated the
counterpart of that enthusiasm which stirred the
depths of his own soul, while it recognised in him, as
it were, the voice which should give utterance to its
thoughts. It accepted him as its leader. He ap-
peased its intestine discords, he concentrated its
divided energies, and in the might of unity rendered
it invincible. The revolution triumphed, and tri-
umphed gloriously. Hereditary rulers and feudal
lords, dispossessed of their inheritances—inheritances
which they regarded as inalienable—looked on with
horror and indignation. Their
sufferings, and perhaps
a fear ofaa rl
tl possessed i c ipastaiensga
ed of in
their fate, awoke the sym-
pathy ofp
similar rights. Des-
pots and the upholders
of despotism coalesced—
they united to emulate thealattempt of CANUTE
popular and arrest the advance of r encroachments.
But they could not proclaim aloud their'ntention.
Such a declaration would have effectually
ico annihilated
, they
their prospects and rung their death-knelr
the
could not declare their antagonism to
popular liberty. They could not whisper a spread, of
hope of
bringing back the times that were. They cautiously
dissembled all this—they only proclaimed themselves
the antagonists of one individual—of him who was at
once the offspring and the leader of the revolution.
They declared war to the death against Aim,
and for reasons the most plausible and apparently
righteous. Patriotism, love of liberty, loyalty,
self-defence, the most powerful sympathies were
enlisted in their behalf. They crushed him.
From
almost unlimited power he was reduced

to a state of slavery; in place of hundreds of thou-
sands of admiring and adoring adherents, he was
surrounded by half a dozen fellow-prisoners. The
realm " which stretched from Moscow to the South-
ern seas ", was exchanged for a limited space of
barren rock, and soon for a few yards of ground
beneath a willow tree. The struggle was over—
" after life's fitful fever he slept well." The victory
was accomplished. Now regal diadems once more
overshadowed smiling countenances, sceptres were
clasped in hands that no longer trembled, feudal chiefs
and the upholders of feudality rejoiced; they con-
gratulated themselves, not upon the overthrow of
one individual. however powerful, but (in the
vanity of their hearts) they congratulated themselves
on the annihilation of revolutionary, i. e., of liberal
principles. They believed, in their blindness, that the
weeping willow waved not above the grave of one
enemy alone, but above the spot where lay entombed
all hopes antagonistic to the "right divine " of kings
—a right which (according to its ordinary application)
is incompatible with the " rights of men " or the
" rights of nations." The feudal lords were mistaken,
albeit for a time all seemed to favour their delusion.
Europe was again portioned out in its old divisions,
dethroned monarchs had their own again, and crowns
were replaced on heads which had grown grey in
exile. " Liberty " and " Equality" were, as forgotten
words, never breathed even in a whisper ; the good
old customs of the good old times came back, and
in the precincts of royalty
" all went merry as a marriage bell.
But hush ! hark, what deep sound strikes like a rising
knell ?
Did ye not hear it ?" _ _ _

Did ye not hear it ? it spoke in a voice of thunder.
The feudal lords have been mistaken. A man may
be crushed by men, great though he be and puny
though they be, individually; but a vital principle is
essentially impassible. The 'story of CANUTE is no
fable ; there are waters which will not recede, nor
even remain stationary, at the mandate of King or
Emperor. •Let us look around us now, on this
fifteenth of August, 1848. Has the popular power
diminished since 1821 ? Are hereditary kings more
firmly established on their thrones since the grave of
St. Helena closed over their most effectual foe ? On
the contrary ; for the principles of which he was
the exponent have gained strength since his de-
cease—they have developed with the course of time
and the mental growth of man. And as an evidence
of this development and maturity, we may cite the
fact of the recent Revolution having been enabled to
enunciate its principles, aye, and make them heard
too, without enforcing that enunciation with the san-
glinary violence which was the conspicuous and
melancholy characteristic of its predecessor. This
15th of August, which recalls to us the birth-day of
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, is, as we have seen, interest-
ing in a retrospective, in an immediate, and in
a prospective point of view. Its retrospective in-
terest associates us with the memory of that
extraordinary man—a man whose noblest mo-
nument is the daily increasing admiration and
regard of those who during his lifetime were " the
most powerful, the most constant, and (alas I not) the
most generous of his enemies." Its present interest
is occasioned by the peculiar position of France at
this moment, and its prospective interest consists in
the assurance which it holds out to us—an assurance
based on such reflections as we have just been enume •
rating—that liberal principles and popular power
will progress as they have progressed, and triumph
as they have triumphed, so that the present and all
future revolutions, initiated by the popular will and
supported by popular unanimity, will immeasurably
exceed the efficacy and glory of their predecessors,
although unaided by the energy and genius of a
NAPOLEON.

Germany has begun the work of her regeneration
badly —she has accompanied the revival of her
nationality with two acts of atrocious and lawless
spoliation. Both these acts, moreover, are immediate
emanations from the unprincipled and self-aggran-
dizing policy of the Prussian Government. They have
both originated in the cupidity of conquest, which has
been inseparable from the Cabinet of Berlin from
the time of the Great FREDERICK downwards. Shall
we name these two attempts at territorial absorption ?
Are they not notorious to the whole of Christendom ?
The integrity of the Danish dominions is assailed
without the smallest provocation, in one direction ;
the honour and the glory of the last shadow of
Poland is insulted in another. Assuredly the ven-
geance of the more generous-hearted nations in

Europe will descend upon the head of the robber.

King, upon the councils of the accomplice-
statesman, upon the deliberations of the
shameless Parliament, which have severally
conceived, abetted, and enforced these infamous deeds
of appropriation. If England remains passive while
Schleswig is being amalgamated with Holstein, and
while the independent duchy of Posen is being splin-
tered into mere provinces of the Germanic Confede-
ration, the remembrance of her indifference to the
sacred rights of Denmark and Poland will press for
ever upon her memory like a crime, and upon her
conscience like a remorse. We cannot think, how-
ever, that England will act in a manner so derogatory
to her greatness ; we cannot think that she will dege-
nerate from the arbiter of the destinies of the sur-
rounding races, into the accomplice of the atrocities
committed by a daring monarch and an insensate
Assembly. When the Spanish rulers evinced an incli-
nation to transform a temporary dictatorship into a
permanent despotism, the representative of her Bri-
tannic MAJESTY protested against their unnatural effort
at domination—and all those who read history aright
rejoiced that the Administration of England endea-
voured even by these extraordinary means to preserve
constitutional liberty to the Spaniards, to those
Spaniards whose polititical emancipation was purchased
by British blood, and British gold, and British bravery,
and whose freedom was guaranteed by the stipulations
of British diplomatists. When the neutrality of the
Papal States was violated by the soldiers of Austria,
when the garrison of the citadel of Ferrara pressed
southwards beyond the frontiers of Lombardy, England
protested against the unjustifiable interference with
the arrangements of treaties and the rights of sove-
reigns. When the political factions of Portugal flew
to arms among the fastnesses of Lusitania, England
stretched the buckler of her mediation between the
combatants, and prevented an unnecessary effusion of
blood through the interposition of her plenipotenti-
aries. When, in fine, the diabolical tyranny of
Naples—that tyranny which is incarnadined by the
blood of free citizens slain by assassins among their
household laves, and butchered by mercenaries under
the sacred shelter of their rooftrees-;--when, we say,
the diabolical tyranny of Naples evinces a de-
termination to murder the new-born, or rather

the newly-revived nationality of Sicily, and
to secure to itself the continued possession of that
island at the expense of the lives and properties of its
population, the heart of England leaps in its bosom
with indignation, and the Government of England
already betrays its determination to prevont this ebul-
lition of regal animosity. If, therefore, the Cabinet
of the United Kingdom conceives itself to be justified
in its interposition in favour of right against might,
in the instances of Spain, of Portugal, of the Papal
States, and of Sicily, when the acts of aggression are
of comparative insignificance—is it just, is it honour-
able, is it seemly on the part of that same
Cabinet to wink at the spoliations committed upon
Denmark and upon Poland, without assuming a posi-
tion worthy of its dignity, or without expressing its
abhorrence in the only language compatible with the
reputation of the Anglo-Saxons ?
It cannot be forgotten that almost immediately after
the concessions made to the inhabitants of Posen, in
consequence of their sympathy with the revolutionists
of Berlin—the promises of FREDERIC WILHELM were
broken—the inalienable rights of the duchy were set
at defiance—the treaties of 1815, as well as the
Royal proclamation of May 15 of the same
year, were flagrantly cast to the four quarters of heaven
—and a new partition of the Prussian remnant of
Poland seemed to consummate the woes of that noble
but ill-doomed land. On the 24th of March a Cabinet
order appeared in the official journal of Berlin, pro-
mising the national re-organization of the whole
Grand Duchy of Posen. On the 14th and 26th of
the following April Cabinet orders of a directly con-
trary character were issued, announcing the dismem-
berment of the duchy and the absorption of a
considerablec
opnortirlatitzt thseinoperovtihnecoo,s
oonf
the
Germanic k
27th of July, this monstrous and audacious deed of

iniquity received the acquiescence and approval of the
German National Parliament assembled in solemn
conclave in the Imperial city of Frankfort-on-the-
Maine. In consequence of these dastardly and in-
solent proceedings on the part of Prussia, and sub-
sequently on the part of United Germany, the Posen
Deputies at the Diet of Berlin have solemnly pro-
tested before GOD and man, and have sent copies of
their protest to the French National Assembly, as
well as to the Diets of Frankfort, Berlin, and Vienna.
In another column of this evening's impression
of The Sun will be found the whole of
this important and patriotic document, in which six-
teen of the noble compatriots of Kosciussto cry out
in voices of mingled agony and wrath against the
First German Popular Parliament which " sanctions
the political murder of a whole nation, and,' that it
should not rise again, presses en its giant tombstone
with the whole weight of a representation of
40,000,000 of Germans !" At an early opportunity
we shall enter more fully into the consideration of
the cause which has so long been aided by the
chivalrous enthusiasm of Lord DUDLEY STUART,
and in doing so we shall direct attention
to a remarkable work on the Sclavonic races
recently written by the Count VALERIAN KRASINSKI.
At present we content ourselves with noticing the
protest of the Posen Deputies, and with branding
with the horror of England the two odious acts of
spoliation with which Germany has commenced the
work of her regeneration.

The great desideratum of the present day is, that
there should be a currency adequate to the national
wants, and sufficient to afford the means of keeping
the real capital of every country—its productive
labours—in full and constant employment. It sig-
nifies little of what that currency may consist,
whether it should possess intrinsic value or not,
provided it be generally received as a medium
of exchange, and that the public are satisfied
to receive it. at its nominal or conventional value. It
is not the quantity of gold in a pound sterling that is
looked to, or in any degree considered by the parties
receiving it in exchange for their commodities or their
labour, but the certainty that, it will again be re-
ceived from them when they in turn become buyers ;
in fact, that it possesses a " purchasing power." This
general acceptance is what gives the currency its
actual value, and it will not be depreciated so long as
the public are satisfied that it is based on real wealth,
of whatsoever description that wealth may be of
which it is the representative, and which may at any
time be made available for its liquidation or redemp-
tion. There is no possible, reason why a currency
based on land should not maintain its value, at least
as steadily, if not more so, than one based on the
precious metals ; still better, and less subject to fluc-
tuation, would be one issued by the nation, and
secured on all its available resources—on the wealth,
the industry, the good faith of the people. There
could be no possible danger to the holder of such a
currency. It would at least rest upon an equally
safe foundation as our national debt, and if its issue
were guarded with due diligence, and at all times
proportioned to the actual demand, so as to maintain
the purchasing power of a pound sterling as nearly
as possible at an equal value, we should no
longer see those violent alternations that defeat the
most wise and prudent calculatious, bring our mer-
chants and manufacturers to the verge of bankruptcy,
and deprive our operatives of that fair employment
by which they are enabled to support their families
by their own honest industry.
At present, owing to the artificial restrictions that
are imposed by the baleful operation of the Bank
Charter Act, the circulating medium of the country is
far below its actual wants, and every description of in-
dustry languishes for want of proper nutriment.
There is a constant jealousy subsisting between the
different classes, each supposing that the other absorbs
more than its due share of the general fund. The
merchant and the manufacturer rail at the railway
proprietor, supposing that the amount expended in
the construction of new lines is so much taken from
commerce or manufacture. There is really an
abundance for all, if it were not limited by
the provisions of our monetary code. There
is ample capital in the country, but, unfor-
tunately, there is no fitting representative there-
for.
That which alone is received as such being in-
sufficient for the wants of all, a scramble is occasioned
among the various classes which artificially enhances
the value of money, keeps up the rate of interest at a
price which retards, or rather prevents production,
the profits of the manufacturer not being sufficient to
afford the high price demanded for the necessary pe-
cuniary accommodation, and thus keeping the
labourer, whether skilled or unskilled, from obtaining
employment. That scrambling can, however, no
more help our wants " than (as LOCKE in his consi-
derations on money remarked) the pulling of a short
coverlid will among children that lie together pre-
serve them from the cold ; some must starve, unless
the father of the family provide better, and enlarge
the scanty covering." This, then, should be the end
and object of all, more particularly of the industrious
and productive classes, wits lie on the outside, and
from whom the corner of the covering which falls to
their let is first withdrawn on any movement of the
other more favoured children.

A respected correspondent, who signs himself H.
C. ARGENT, and from whom a communication will
be found in another part of our impression this day,
writes that " distribution is better than division."
There are no means by which the doctrines of com-
munism and socialism can so effectually be checked
as by affording that fair and just distribution that
will afford to all who deserve it a certain portion of
the " coverlid," however small. They will then
hope by degrees to obtain more, and will not call for
a separation of their common covering into a portion
for each, which will not then be sufficient to protect
any from the cold; but if those in the most favourable
positions try to secure all for themselves, and com-
pletely to strip the outliers, then, indeed, it is more
than probable that the latter will retaliate, and
perhaps deprive the greedy parties of what they
would gladly be suffered to retain if they acted more
equitably and more liberally in the first instance.