obedience to their leaders; and as some partial experiments of the kind have succeeded, we cannot doubt but that "passive resistance" in Canada, will be still more successful than it was in the old colonies (now the United States) in 1776.

How long the Canadians will be content with a resistance merely passive, it would be rash to say. A popular commotion generally happens from some apparently trifling circumstance, acting upon a people predisposed to a rupture with their rulers. The accidental collection of a crowd in a particular spot; the thoughtless act of an idle boy; the throwing of a stone or the firing of a pop-gun, are any one of them sufficient, under certain circumstances, to cause the standard of revolt to be raised. The events that commonly happen at a Canadian city election would, we are quite convinced, raise the banner of independence, even without a massacre of the people, similar to that which took place on the 21st May 1832, called by the Canadians le jour du sang. Of this we feel quite certain, that the people are predisposed to receive any accidental impulse towards independence. Their position, too, is in every respect favourable to such a movement. They have no enemy on their frontier, as the United Colonies had; neither have they a foe in their very bosom, in the shape of an enslaved labouring population. The provocation they have just received, may be considered by the more ardent of the Canadians to justify the employment of force, to emancipate themselves from the thraldrom of the Colonial office. What, then, is wanting to induce an attempt at independence? We fear but one thing-opportunity, a favourable opportunity; and that, as we have already said, the merest accident may afford.

On the receipt of the resolutions in Upper Canada, a meeting of the great Political Union of that province was convened, and a series of resolutions, five in number, were passed, condemning the course pursued by ministers, and expressive of sympathy with the Lower Province. The whole are too long for our space; but we cannot refrain from copying the two last, as evidence that the people of Upper Canada are not what the Tories would wish them.

"4. That we owe a deep and lasting debt of gratitude to Sir William Molesworth, Bart. Jos. Hume, J. A. Roebuck, Daniel O'Connell, J. T. Leader, Esqrs., and the other talented and uncompromising defenders of our rights and liberties in the British House of Commons, during the important debate on the affairs of the Canadas, on the 6th and 8th of March last."

"5. That this Union deeply sympathize with the provinces of Lower

Canada and Nova Scotia in their present difficulties, and that they await with deep anxiety the action that may be had thereon, by those patriotic and long-suffering people."

We cannot close this article without stating, that the other British North American Colonies are also at issue with their respective local oligarchies. Nova Scotia has just passed a series of resolutions, the last of which is in favour of an elective council. Newfoundland, in its demands for reform, makes an elective council a sine quâ non. Prince Edward's Island has also pronounced herself in favour of the same wholesome measure. All these colonies have serious differences with the ruling power. In New Brunswick, we are not aware that the elective council question has been broached; but of this we are quite certain, that New Brunswick is highly discontented, and has lately succeeded in driving an obnoxious governor out of the colony.

Here, then, we have a million and a half of people, ripe for revolt a number not very far short of the population of the old colonies, when "the troubles commenced," and yet our ministry, with Tory obstinacy, seems determined to bring about a similar result.

Separation is perhaps a contingency inseparable from colonies; but there is no reason why it should be violent. A wise minister would establish such a colonial government, as would insensibly lead to independence. For this sacred purpose what so obvious as institutions purely elective? Not that independence would so soon occur, as in consequence of a system of coercion. The duration of the colonial connexion will be in the inverse ratio of imperial interference, and it might be almost perpetual, by leaving the colonists entirely to themselves.

We now close this somewhat long article, by declaring our solemn opinion, that unless ministers entirely abandon their system of colonial policy, they will one day be surprised by the apparition of LE JEUNE CANADA.*

ART. V.--Londres: Voyage contenant la Description de cette Capitale, avec les Moeurs, &c. &c., par Albert Montémont. Paris.

THE

HE remarks of foreigners on our institutions are often more instructive than the opinions of native critics: habit renders the latter less liable to observe general defects, while the

See Postscript at the end of this Number.

VOL. III.NO. V.

unvitiated eye of the former immediately detects a fault. The generality of tourists are so superficial in their knowledge of the countries they describe, that we cannot rely implicitly either on the accuracy of their statements or the infallibility of their judg ment; but when there are points on which they are all agreed, it must be confessed that the concurrence of opinion adds considerably to its force. If, moreover, to the written observations of individual travellers, is added the verbal testimony of foreigners in general, we must allow that there is some foundation for their remarks, whether they contain praise or blame; and as the former is frequently bestowed, we ought not to complain when the latter is occasionally applied. Strangers do not deny the wealth of England, the importance of her colonial possessions, the extent of her trade, the industry of her manufactories, and the general activity of all her people: these are sources of greatness which are averred, proved, and uncontested; but there are other claims to rank as the first of civilized nations, which, though boldly put forth by patriotic eulogists at home, are not readily admitted by unprejudiced observers abroad.

In the work before us we find the following rather extraordinary sentence:- Speaking of London, the writer describes the buildings as a "mensonge d'architecture, comme la constitution est un mensonge de liberté, la religion une simagrée de piété, et les mœurs un mensonge de pruderie."

On the architecture of a town depends the first impression a stranger receives on his arrival; and to the inferiority of London in this respect we attribute the disappointment of our traveller. The foreigner who has passed by the Arc de l'Etoile smiles at the arch at Hyde Park Corner; accustomed to the Tuilleries, he is astonished on his first visit to Buckingham Palace; and when asking for the Louvre of London, can scarcely believe the cicerone who conducts him to the National Gallery. It is the size, not the beauty, of London, which strikes the foreigner; he admires the width of the streets, but looks with contempt on the houses which compose them-small black buildings, as our author describes them, "made of wood and brick, without height or beauty-temporary abodes, which, like tents, are destined to endure no longer than the lease on which they are built." Paint and plaster have done their best to conceal the poverty of the materials, but neither paint nor plaster can correct the proportions, or give elevation to the structure. With the exception of Apsley and Burlington, Northumberland and Lansdowne houses, the stranger looks in vain for the nobleman's palace, or wealthy commoner's hotel. Two-story houses, with small windows and narrow doorways, are the town-residences of

the rich and haughty aristocracy of England. The public buildings are scarcely more remarkable for their elegance than the private houses. Their number is very small considering the size of London; and the close neighbourhood of other buildings prevents the little merit they have from being sufficiently remarked. The bridges alone stand pre-eminent in the world for beauty and solidity. The broad Thames is shut out from the view, and the irregular wharfs and warehouses on its banks evince neither taste nor plan in their erection. The public offices are not distinguished for their splendour, and when we compare the Admiralty in London with the Admiralty in Petersburg, or the treasury of the former city with the new Hotel erecting on the Quai d'Orsay at Paris, we must confess that the government houses in Whitehall and Downing-street are not in proportion with the importance of the business which is transacted in them. The late houses of Parliament caused respect in the English antiquarian, but only disappointment to the foreign traveller. The Royal residences are pitiful, and, with the exception of Somerset House, not a building in London deserves the title of Palace. Some authors attribute the deficiency in regal grandeur to the limited nature of the monarchy, and others trace the unclassic character of the public buildings to the commercial disposition of the people. Neither is the real case, for millions have been voted for royal palaces, and the abortive attempts at architectural ornament prove that not the wish but the genius is wanting. Venice and Genoa are cities of palaces, but both Venice and Genoa were raised by a mercantile and commercial people. A third and still more ridiculous excuse has been grounded on the cold and ungenial nature of our northern latitude. This plea may be justly urged as far as statuary is concerned, for the delicate work of the chisel, and the material it requires, may be unable to resist the corrosive damps of our variable and humid climate; but neither the coldness of the climate, nor the commercial spirit of the nation, can be admitted as excuses for the bad taste of our buildings. The East India Company of merchants have raised in Calcutta, perhaps, the noblest building in the British dominions; and there is no reason why the banks of the Thames should not be lined with palaces, as well as the still colder shores of the Neva. Other causes than these must exist; and, perhaps, we shall be nearer the truth if we attribute the mean appearance of our town houses to the general prevalence of isolated domicile. The English system of one family occupying an entire house may possibly have encreased the cleanliness, but certainly has destroyed the grandeur of our domestic buildings. The number of houses in the

chief towns, and the number of families who inhabit them, are given in returns made to Parliament, pursuant to an Act for taking an account of the British population. According to these tables, there are in London 171 families to a hundred houses; in Liverpool, 131; Manchester, 116; and Birmingham, 105; whereas in Paris there are at least five hundred families to a hundred houses. According to another statement, there are ten persons to one house in London, twenty to one in Paris, and more than forty-seven to one in Petersburg. The consequence of this difference is evident: the size of the habitation is in proportion to the number of individuals who occupy it; and the houses in Paris are superior to the houses in London, inasmuch as the expenses and incomes of twenty persons are greater than the expenses and incomes of ten. Want of space, and density of population, cannot be urged as objections to the adoption of the Continental system, for supposing one Paris house to occupy the same ground as three London houses, the three London houses would be tenanted by three families, while the one Paris house, being three stories high, would be occupied by the same number of families. The advantages, as far as regards architectural grandeur, are too evident to need further comment; but there is another consideration which ought to be duly weighed before we give either system the preference— which of the two customs contributes most to the health and convenience of the inhabitants. The above-mentioned returns state the proportion of deaths to the population; and, though the results are not uniform, a general inference has been drawn, that mortality decreases in proportion to the increasing isolation of domicile. This conclusion is perfectly just, as far as regards England; but in France, and other continental countries, where a different system exists, and several families inhabit the same house, the average of mortality is no higher than in the most favoured towns of England. The disparity of the buildings in England and the Continent reconciles the apparent inconsistency of the different results; and if, instead of the half-ventilated cottages which compose our streets, the lofty buildings of Paris or Genoa, Florence or Petersburg, were substituted, many families might lodge beneath the same roof without detriment to their health, or inconvenience to one another.

Another cause of the superiority of Paris to London in