The Principality

TOWN LETTER-No. 64. — -■ Were Hamlet alive now he might well describe the world as weary, flat, stale and unprofitable," for never was there a duller time than that comprised within the last week. The columns of the Dailies" have been intensely unin- teresting. Nothing wonderful has taken place-the occu- pation of the penny-a liners has gone, and the montony everywhere: prevailing, testifies how invaluable are the services of' that universally-ridiculed, but highly-respec- table class of men. A little roaring on the part of that well-known quadruped, the British lion—'tis a long time since he did roar an obscure protectionist meeting —a speech from Jowler and Co., would be' exceedingly wel- some; anything is better than the utter absence of all life- the dreary stagnation that now prevails, and yet there have been some few symptoms of vitality exhibited. The Wesleyan Reform Movement is active as ever—Conference has just concluded its sittings, and it has become apparent that its tyranny-and injustice are as rampant as before. It is still apparent that the laity must proclaim their grievances and seek redress. At length Mr. Bromley has been expelled, and this has not tended to quiet those who were dissatisfied with Conference before. A public meeting, very numerously attended, was held on Tuesday evening, at St. Martin's- hall, Long-acre, for the purpose of hearing the statements of the delegates, who have been assembled in consultation for the last few days, from various parts of the country, Oil the subject of reform in the Wesleyan body. The partial schism which was created by the proceedings of the Con ference of 1842, appears to have blazed out with redoubled fury, in consequence of further expulsions of old and well- known ministers by the Conference, which has just closed its sittings in London. An intense public interest has been excited in their favour and, as the martyrs" successively presented themselves on the platform, they were greeted with the most enthusiastic cheering. The chair was taken by Mr. W. Phillips, of Bristol, who stated he was one of the delegates, appointed by the suffrages of about 2,400 members of the Wesleyan Society. He regretted that the Wesleyan Conference had thought it necessary to refuse an interview with the delegates, thereby shutting out all hopes of any arrangement. Not only were the religious, but the civil liberties of the Wesleyan people in danger. If any large mass of persons were educated in implicit sub-

To the SUBSCRIBERS of the" PRINCIPALITY," and the NONCONFORMISTS of W-ALES. FRIENDS AND'FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN,— I have to inform you that the publication of the "Principality." will ceaae with the present number. It is due to myself, as well as to you, to state, briefly, the reasons, which have induced me to take this step. You, doubtless* recollect that the enterprise at first, was considered hazardous. I was strongly urged by. sincere and intelligent friends not to risk it. But my anxiety to see a Newspaper in Wales, advocating, faithfully, and fearlessly, the distinctive principles of Nonconformity was so great that I overcame the doubts and fears that surrounded me. I entered single-handed on the work, relying on the sound- ness of my principles, the integrity of my conduct, and the support of the great body of Welsh Nonconformists for success. I had not long published the paper before I discovered signs of infidelity to principle, and indisposition to carry them into practice, among those whose professions led me to expect from them a cordial support. There was enough of high sounding praise, and abundant good wishes, but very little practical" effort to sustain my endeavours. I found, also, that party feeling and denominational pre- judices—which prevail to an amazing extent—materially interfered with the support the paper ought to have re- ceived. I had no sympathy with those feelings and pre- judices -1 rather endeavoured to remove them, and to direct attention to the principles which constitute the basis of Nonconformity. I found that the more faithfully I pur- sued this course, the less interest was evinced in my behalf. I felt convinced that a thoroughly Nonconformist paper C, would not be sustained without loss. After one or two fruitless efforts-to establish it on this principle, I materially altered its character. I gave it a more local interest, and suited its general intelligenceniore to the public taste. The change had the desired, effect, in a, pecuniary sense, but the original object of its estab- lishment, was, to a considerable extent, lost. • Finding it, therefore, impracticable to sustain a paper of the character I desired, and having no inclination to, ex- pend a large amount of time and anxiety in the conducting a mere local paper, without any distinct object in view, I came to the determination of abandoning it altogether. a 0 ¡ I extremely regret, and am not a little ashamed, that such a paper cannot be sustained in Wales. The Dissenters have themselves to blame for it. I have done my part. I feel assured that I have "done the state some service;" and that I have been the means of giving, the principles of Nonconformity an importance in Wales, and Dissenters a position, which they had not previously occupied. In thus bidding adieu- to the public, and retiring from the more active sphere of labour, I beg to acknowledge, with gratitude and respect, the cordial sympathy, and unwavering support which I have received from a few friends in different parts of the Principality. I shall ever remember with pleasure their good services and good wishes. Notwithstanding the heavy pecuniary sacrifices I have made, and the immense amount of anxiety and care I spent, I still feel glad: that 11 made the experiment. I have by it obtained a far more extensive and correct estimate of the social, political, moral, and religious condition of the people of Wales, than I otherwise could have obtained. I have also secured the friendship of many of the excellent of the earth,' whose worth would have remained unknown to me, were it not for the enterprise I undertook. In conclusion, I beg to assure my friends that, while my opinion of Welsh Dissent is considerably altered, and my sympathy for Welsh Dissenters is lessened, my attach- ment to the great principles of Christian Nonconformity remains unabated; I shall continue to watch their progress and growth in Wales, and be ready at all times to do what lies in my power to promote their success. I remain, Friends and Fellow-countrymen, Your faithful and obedient servant, DAVID EVANS. "PRINCIPALITY "OFFICE, Cardiff, August 23, 1850.

CONSERVATISM. MOST Englishmen know that the political creed of a large and influential portion of society is that denoted by the title we have prefixed to this article. Their creed is Conservatism —they profess to be Conservatives. They boast of their attachment to such principles at all times and in all places, and are wonderfully valorous when there is nothing to fear. Most violent is their denunciation of the friends of freedom and reform; they are radical destructives-the worst enemies of their country—men for whom hanging is too good. Now, as all these amiable things are repeated day after day in every possible variety of manner and of phrase; not only after dinner, when the wine is in and the wit out, but in cold blood, in the grave conversation of Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors." It were well if we, in our turn, give them the" retort courteous," and just say a word or two about Conservatism and Conservatives.- We imagine that the most beardless youth, or the most venerable old lady that falls asleep over our soothing pages, must, with half an eye, perceive that conservatism is neither more nor less than a direct personal- insult to every man, woman, and child, residing in any part of the British dominions, in this present year of our Lord, 1850. With every one of our readers, then, it is a personal matter, and we do hope that they will judge and examine it for them- selves. The charge which Conservatism makes against them is that they cannot take care of themselves—that, they are not fit to be entrusted with their own Government-that those who lived two hundred years back legislated better for the future occupants of what were then swampy, morasses, heaths wild and desolate, where growled and prowled the murderer, the outcast, the highwayman, than could the in- habitants themsclves.that they could lay down laws de- claratory of duties on commodities which were then not imported, in a better manner than could those who import them now; and who may, therefore, reasonably be supposed to know something about them. In short, Conservatism insults us by telling us that our fathers were wise men, and that we, their children, are fools. Against this conclusion we beg to enter our most solemn protest. A Conservative has no business to speak of any one but himself—he may have degenerated-that is by no means an unlikely supposition, or rather it is the most natural thing in the world but we do protest against his judging his betters by himself, and passing on all the same wholesale sentence of condemnation. Degenerated indeed with her sons of unrivaled might, and her daughters of peerless beauty, England may well laugh the assertion to scorn. With the triumphs of her genius and the trophies of her skill on every side, on the earth beneath and in the heavens above, she may well treat the charge with merited contempt. At this time she is stag- gering under a weight of unparalleled oppression, injustice, and distiess, but she will yet rally, and ride on once more on her glorious career. So much for the insult. The thing itself is about the most preposteroHS idea that ever entered into the head of man, sane or insane and when put into writing, it carries its own refutation with it. It becomes palpably a lie, which no one would profess to believe, unless he had, in return, a reasonable consideration. It were. too much to expect, even of a Conservative, that he should forswear- himself for the mere pleasure of doing so. To believe, or profess to believe, an absurdity, a man must be either a knave or a fool, or a happy compound of the two; and an absurdity, most cer- tainly, Conservatism is. Its great fundamental article is, that in matters in which, experience alone can make men wise, the man who has not had experience is preferable to the man who has or, in other words, that the ages when Government was neither studied nor understood, yet are still the ages to which we must look up as our teachers of political philosophy, and whose authority we must take as law. It asserts that the constitution, which was made by men of confined knowledge and limited skill, is infinitely preferable to any, one that could possibly be constructed by men who have given their days and nights to the subject, and are well acquainted with the wants and wishes of the people; which is tantamount to saying, that the man who knows no more of law than the babe unborn, would make the best lawyer or that the quack is to be preferred to the regularly educated physician. This is the strange mixture, which, coloured with impudence, and adulterated with bombast, is retailed by, the braggadocio to farmers muddled with strong beer and small talk, at club meetings, at agricultural dinners, on election days, and which one often finds given, in plentiful doses, to other assemblies, more aristocratic and refined, but equally inclined to blarney, not having gumption enough to perceive that such blarney 6 blinds no one but themselves. This wretched, miserable stuff, opposed to common sense and reason, is dignified with the name of Conservatism, and is held up exultingly to men's admiration and love. The good old times" are toasted, till men become utterly oblivious of the present. The good old English gentleman" is sung till men fail to distin- guish a table from a man, or the floor from a sofa. One is reminded of the conversation related by the citizen of the world, how the debtor in prison feared that- we should los- our glorious liberties, and the drunken soldier outside exe pressed his fear, not so much on that account, but lest we should be deprived of our holy religion a loss which we should Imagine, to such a man, would be distressing in the extreme. As a creed, as a rallying cry, as the watchword of a party, conservatism may exist; but, as a principle, it certainly cannot. It has never been anything more than a pretefice. It can have no reality about it; it is utterly imposssible that it should. It is all sound and fury a vox praeterea nihil," which possibly may frighten, but which certainly can hurt no one. It is a thing utterly lihable to work. In practice, its professors have invariably given it up. There was a Parliament ten times more rotten than the present-teeming with pensioners, with placemen, and nominees which BURKE, and Prrr, and Fox, alike endeavoured to refol-m-- —which gave representatives to the wild ruins and green caves of Old S&mm, Gatton, and Dunwich, and which denied them to the industrious and intelligent thousands of Sheffield, Birmingham*and Manchester; and Conservatism stood by to shelter every abuse, however monstrous and absurd, and to affirm that, than Parliament, nothing bettor could be imagined or desired; Was not everywhere the language of Justice HOLT re-echoed and rc-sung ? Did not every Conservative, great and small, at the top of his, her, or its voice, repeat his panegyric on the British constitution. "Is it not known, agreed, confirmed, confessed; That of all people we are governed best ? We have the first of monarchies are free As the most prbtrd republicans can be; And have those "prudent counsels that arise, In grave and cauticils aristocracies. II Ours is a church reformed, and now no more, Is ought for man to mend, or to restore 'Tis pure in doctrine, 'tis correct in creeds, Has naught redundant, and it nothing needs; No evil is therein-no wrinkle, spot, Stain, blame, or blemish—I affirm there's not." Crabbe's Tales. The foundation on which Conservatism rests is unsubstan- tial and imaginary as the baseless fabric of a vision." The truth needs not Conservatism she is beyond and above such aid. Of herself she has unchanging and eternal vitality and power. To stay her onward march were an impossi- bility: to attempt to do so were only to stand in her way and be ridden over by her. There she goes, as young and fair, with an eye as bright, and a step as free, as when first she came down from heaven to scatter in man's path flowers beautiful and unfading as herself. Thy aid and puny arm, my brother, she needs not-keep them for thyself-thou hast enough to do to follow in her path, without running' before her, and, like the ass in the lion's skin, braying so audibly that all may know thee for what thou art—a sham, an impostor, no lion after all. Take care of the truth in deed! Thou hadst much better take care of thyself. Error thou couldst build up and indue after a certain manner with a diseased and hurtful life. An old useless form may be continued long after the occasion that called it into existence has ceased; but in so acting you are doing, not good, but harm. It is not the truth you are persevering with such care, but error-an error perhaps beneficial to thyself, but hurtful to the many. Say so, but do not fight under false pretences. Say, that as a Conservative, you advocate your own particular interest, but do not seek to deceive man, and to insult truth by identifying yourself with her-by pre- tending that your mission is the same, or by affirming that you are the champions of her divine right and cause. Thus Conservatism, then, were more monstrous than otherwise, and the less that we hear about it evidently the better. For a natiou to seek a remedy for existing distress by looking back one or two hundred years of her history were as absurd as for a man to seek to prepare himself for a journey from Manchester to London by studying the journal of a traveller who went over the same ground in the good old times when railroads were not—when even turnpikes had no existence, either in imagination or in fact—when men made their wills, and took an affectionate farewall of their wives and children, before setting out on so perilous an expedition. In the Heart of Midlothian an instance is given of the mail travelling all the way from London to Edinburgh with only one letter-would any sane man affirm that the post-office arrangements of the latter city should be precisely now what they were then ? Does not every school-boy know that times change, and that we are changed with them ? Is it too much to expect that a Conservative should have a similar knowledge ?-a knowledge any toler- ably educated boy of ten years has got by heart. Away, then with Conservatism—this imbecile clinging to the past, this culpable indifference to the future. Man's march is an onward one. To each age is given the healthful straggle and the high resolve; to sit down and sigh, and wring one's hands, and long for the good old times, were strong argu- ment that he who thus acts would do indifferently well for a babe or an old woman, but were utterly unfit to bear the character and perform the duties of a man. For ourselves, with longing eyes and joyful hearts, we look to the future. We read in the past, the proud man's lusts, the poor man's wrongs, the oppressor's might, the hopeless struggle of the weak, the innocent; the oppressed; and we are cheered by thinkings that better times shall come—that a brighter morning shall dawn on this benighted earth that the fetters of poverty, of ignorance, of slavery, of vice, shall be burst, and that man shall step forth to do the work of heaven unchained and free. Above all things we deprecate the stagnant level of complacent and immoveable stupidity —the dreary monotony of a helpless and hopeless dotage- the deathlike quiet of dispair. Life is action, and action is life. The craven, the faint-hearted, the deserter, may pre- fer the ignominious peace—the price of his corruption and shame—to the war, in which truth crowns all who battle on her side with unfading glory. The man of right im- pulse, however, will act another and a better part—he will long to be up and doing. The address, brief but soul- stirring, the hero of SCOTT'S romantic lay, will ever ring in his ear, and fire his heart- Oil! Stanley, on Were the last words of Marmion."