PUBLIC OPINION.

NOT an inconsiderable portion of our younger days is employed in preparing us to yield an unqualified obedience to public opinion. It is instilled into us from the cradle upwards. This homage becomes a part of our practical religion. The study of human nature, that " proper study of mankind," is only an inquiry how we may best adapt ourselves, our theories and our schemes for self-interest, to our fellow-men. It is a study of the prices-current to know what goods we may bring into the market with the best advantage. When, therefore, we mingle in the affairs of the world, we find some of the busy and restless mass setting traps for popularity, and endeavoring to delude the less sagacious; others madly, but vainly, demanding justice of the public; many the victims of its foul-mouthed slander; but the most numerous class committing themselves to the current, and accommodating their actions to every whimsical absurdity of popular caprice. Example and precept and the experience of maturer years soon teach us to appreciate the value of this policy. The public is a wayward, willful creature: there is no concealment which its numberless eyes cannot detect, nor any spot of earth where its myriad feet cannot follow, and he who endeavors to cast contempt upon its imperious dictates, becomes its victim. Hence we see the man, who has been a devoted student of science, submissively approach the public, and ask them to examine into the correctness of principles, in the development of which he has spent years of toil and study, and the truth of which he has tested by the exactness of mathematical accuracy. The author, in language of humility, submits to them his productions, trembling lest by a single breath they forever blast his reputation and scatter his hopes of attaining an honorable fame. The young man just entering upon his professional career, becomes a member of the most fashionable church in the community where he resides, and confines himself strictly within the limits which society has prescribed. The lower orders of the people wear out their energies in fruitless struggles to reach the standard of perfection which popular opinion has determined shall designate the highest respectability;' and all ranks throng to pay obsequious court to that Protean child, Fashion. The artist et id omne genus, "crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, that thrift may follow fawning" whilst the politician and journalist, who are excellent tacticians, admirably play the part of Polonius to the "dear people."

Hamlet. Do you see yonder cloud, almost in shape of a camel?
Polonius. By the mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.

Hamlet. Methinks it is like a weasel.

Polonius. It is backed like a weasel.

Hamlet. Or like a whale.

Polonius. Very like a whale.

Such is the extent by which social influence over individuals is characterized; and such the extent of the servility to which it leads. The acts and opinions of the majority constitute the will and thoughts of the public-a sovereign arbitrary and severe, and at the same time reckless and irresponsible.

But however high the degree of veneration with which we are disposed to regard public opinion, we are not prepared to endorse its character for infallibility. We are not among those who have incorporated into their creed the maxim, "vox populi, vox Dei," though the body politic, which is egotistical even to impiety, (and doubtless destitute of a conscience as well as a soul,) applies it to every syllable that it utters. This stereotyped text is employed on all occasions, and from the nonchalance with which the public condemns, applauds, and decides, we are left to conjecture that it has reached out its impotent hand to Heaven and plucked down the very attributes of the Deity for its judicial robes.

But it dares not face the past with such blasphemy upon its lips. The shades of Aristides and Socrates; of the hosts of martyred reformers; of Dante, Shelley, Byron, and Hume, those unfortunate men of genius, who

rejoined the stars

Unlaureled upon earth;"

their shades, we say, would leap from their graves at the insult; and the cunning demagogues who have duped the public would laugh it to scorn. Every conventional act of a people is nothing more than a type of its intellectual character, since it is merely a form of expression given to public opinion. Its institutions, cities, customs, manners, and fashions, are the sum of a nation's thoughts. Consequently, wherever we find such traces of a people, we witness records of error and iniquity— rotten constitutions, corrupt manners, disgraceful customs, and acts of violence and wrong. Such results have ever followed in the track of social empire. We are not naturally disposed to brood over the gloomy points in the human character, but we must take as we find what History, the faithful witness of past ages, has left us; and each, according to his disposition, may weep with Heraclitus, or laugh with Democritus, at the follies of mankind-for follies they are.

There is but one instance wherein the voice of the people can be recognized as the voice of God. It is in the great contest for human rights, when every heart throbs for political and religious liberty, and every tongue pleads for that self-evident justice

-"which always with right reason dwells, And from her hath no dividual being."

And even in this solitary exception it is instinct that prompts, rather than reason. It is that hidden principle of self-preservation which is common to the whole animal creation. It is the "half deity" of which we are composed, uttering its "still small voice." In all cases where the interference of this principle cannot be traced, we must expect to

meet with but little of the public sentiment entitled to the name of truth.

The puplic is no philosopher. Its mind is not to be fettered by a systematic course of reasoning, nor wearied by profound thought. It derives its conclusions from impressions, rather than reflection and a reference to facts. The philosopher's object is truth, in the pursuit of which the liberal mind delights, for the secret satisfaction of testing its own capabilities and energies; and this is the only true standard by which we can measure them. But the heterogeneous mass of popular mind, characterized, as it is, by every grade of enlightenment from that degree of self-knowledge which teaches us that we know nothing, down to absolute ignorance which flatters us that we know every thing, is operated upon by different motives. Here the elements of opinion are a passionate bigotry, malignant prejudice, and supreme selfishness, without a sufficient intelligence or conscientiousness to guide the impulses which they generate. Hence we are driven to those extremes of ultraism by which society is constantly racked. There are many who are credulous enough to believe every thing. They feed on marvels and absurdities. Every individual who has a favorite scheme or theory to propose, makes them the victims of his humbuggery. Opposed to these we have the class of men who are too skeptical to believe any thing, whose characteristic failing was well caricatured by that sapient philosopher who could not conceive that in reality he had any existence ! Both of these classes throw impediments in the way of truth the former recognizes all that is true, but likewise all that is false; the latter rejects every falsehood, but also every truth. The one is the blind follower of Faith; the other prides itself upon the perfection of Reason.

Between these extremes there exists every variety of mental constitution. Therefore it is not singular that the popular mind gives birth to so many intellectual monsters, or that a community so often is guilty of the grossest wrongs and absurdities. It is forever agitated by antagonistical opinions. Reformers are met by anti-reformers. The first are disposed to apply their radical principles to every institution that exists. The beautiful and good must perish alike with the evil; no matter whether it is sanctioned by ancient and modern wisdom, no matter whether it answers the end for which it was created, if the most inconsiderable flaw is found to quibble upon, they will lay their irreverent hands upon it, and attempt to crush it. Their zeal becomes a passion and their principle is to prosecute their labors of regeneration until not a vestige of the magnificent Past remains. The opponents of this class resist the slightest innovations, fearful that it will be productive of bad results. They have no confidence in the march of improvement. They worship antiquity, and must go back to it for models and instructions.

This partisan bigotry prevails extensively both in religion and politics. We claim to be governed by moderation in the one and reason in the other, but it is not so. There is an inevitable tendency in man's nature towards a union of interests. His religious and political sym

pathies must form a connection; and hence arises a disposition on the part of the majority to suppress all doctrines and opinions which cannot stand the test of orthodoxy, by the energies of government. This is a fearful union. It is the fruitful source of persecution and proscription. Already have political influences found their way into the American pulpit, and the minister of God, forgetful of his high dignity, not unfrequently descends to the province of the party stump orator.

In questions of state, two parties array themselves against each other on principles diametrically opposite. They cannot both be right, yet each with the same assurance assumes the infallibility of its own position, and claims that the other is wrong. The parties are transmitted from generation to generation, and as men rise up from boyhood to manhood, they place themselves in the same ranks where their fathers stood before them. It is the prejudice imbibed from the surrounding atmosphere which determines their course. The idea that they may possibly be wrong, never occurs to their minds. They instinctively sanction or reject a national measure, accordingly as it originates with their own, or the opposite party. This is the best evidence we can desire to show that they do not arrive at their conclusions by reasoning from one truth to another.

So long as the popular mind is governed by this arbitrary impulse, many evils must result from it. The chief one, and that on which most of the others depend, is the obstacle which it interposes to active, earnest, and individual thought. There is labor in thinking, and the world does not sufficiently appreciate truth to endure the fatigue-the "brainsweat" of an investigation which would lead them to it. Men will voluntarily yield themselves to such prejudices as chance to float about them, or let others take the pains to think for them. Then, such persons as enjoy a conspicuous position in society, will be able to shape its opinions into whatever form shall best please themselves. For example, the popular preacher may establish or prohibit any articles of faith whatsoever independent of their merits. "Our minister says so," and that is enough. It is impossible that "our minister" could be wrong in what he asserts. The leader of the partisan press utters a new political dogma, and it is immediately caught up by his disciples, who retail it as the last orthodox doctrine. But observe the non-committal evasion of one of these subordinate party-men, if his views be solicited respecting a political measure whose paternity is doubtful. He will carefully refrain from expressing an opinion for or against it until its origin is ascertained, and then he "will not hesitate to say boldly that it is productive of the highest blessings to the world in general, and our own country in particular;" or, as the case may be," that it is calculated to strike at the very root of liberty, and sap the foundations of our republic." The caressed critic may, with impunity, assure the public that the books of his friends, (or such as have plied him with "black mail,”) are eminently worthy of patronage; and on the contrary, those written by persons in whom he takes no especial interest, are mere trash, totally unfit for the refined sensibilities or pure morals of the community. They condemn a book from its title-page. How many gentlemen of

this description, with an equally worthy discrimination, have denounced the first works of Eugene Sue before they had read a page in them? They supposed, doubtless, as the French press was noted for the immorality of its productions, and because there were some unholy" Mysteries" in Paris which might be developed, that, of course, this book was of a kindred spirit with the "yellow covered literature" which has recently been so fashionable. This is as far as they thought or cared. The same unlimited confidence is placed in the sayings of the distingue gossips who infest every city, burgh, and village throughout the length and breadth of the land. These vampires feed on the reputation of their fellow beings, and since the process of anatomizing the subject is performed by the tongue, old maids are generally the most active in such business. One of these Pythian Godesses hears a given fact relative to some of her neighbors, and either misunderstands it, or puts upon it the construction which she fancies it ought to bear in order to gratify that propensity for the marvelous, so characteristic of our nature, and. then circulates it by inuendoes, or as coming directly from Mr. Jones, Smith, or Brown. With many, slander is a profession. There is a secret delight in talking about the follies of others, and they are, on all occasions, exaggerated that they may be more interesting, for then they create a greater excitement. The community never fails to lend its faith to every item whispered in its ear, no matter how extravagant.

Such are the oracles which the public set up with the intention of making use of them as guide-posts to direct them through the world. They hope by such an arrangement to relieve themselves of all trouble in finding out the way by their own exertions, and they scarcely ever have the good fortune to be directed aright. It would be infinitely cheaper to do what they leave to others. They should think for themselves. Then their progress to truth would be right onward. They would not, like the wandering Jew, be obliged to walk up and down the mazes of error, forever lost in its labyrinths, and forever retracing their steps, uncertain where to rest.

In the following purely imaginative piece, the mountains which surround Lake Leman, as also the lake itself, are personified.

THE LOVES OF SPIRITS.

THE moon wan'd dim, and faintly shed
Her silver sheen o'er Leman blue,

And on old Jura's hoary head

The stars dropp'd gems of pearly dew.
On high was seen each snow-wreath pil'd;
Below, the blooming heather slept ;
While zephyrs play'd mid glaciers wild,

Then down the lake their music swept.