om open haunts and popularity."

We see these men setting forth or assembling to defend their king or
church, and we see it without surprise; a rich daring loves danger, a
deep excitability likes excitement. If we look around us, we may see
what is analogous: some say that the battle of the Alma was won by the
"uneducated gentry"; the "uneducated gentry" would be Cavaliers now. The
political sentiment is part of the character; the essence of Toryism is
enjoyment. Talk of the ways of spreading a wholesome conservatism
throughout this country! Give painful lectures, distribute weary tracts
(and perhaps this is as well,--you may be able to give an argumentative
answer to a few objections, you may diffuse a distinct notion of the
dignified dullness of politics); but as far as communicating and
establishing your creed are concerned, try a little pleasure. The way to
keep up old customs is to enjoy old customs; the way to be satisfied
with the present state of things is to enjoy that state of things. Over
the "Cavalier" mind this world passes with a thrill of delight; there is
an exaltation in a daily event, zest in the "regular thing," joy at an
old feast.

MORALITY AND FEAR

From 'Bishop Butler'

The moral principle (whatever may be said to the contrary by complacent
thinkers) is really and to most men a principle of fear. The delights of
a good conscience may be reserved for better things, but few men who
know themselves will say that they have often felt them by vivid and
actual experience; a sensation of shame, of reproach, of remorse, of sin
(to use the word we instinctively shrink from because it expresses the
meaning), is what the moral principle really and practically thrusts on
most men. Conscience is the condemnation of ourselves; we expect a
penalty. As the Greek proverb teaches, "where there is shame there is
fear"; where there is the deep and intimate anxiety of guilt,--the
feeling which has driven murderers and other than murderers forth to
wastes and rocks and stones and tempests,--we see, as it were, in a
single complex and indivisible sensation, the pain and sense of guilt
and the painful anticipation of its punishment. How to be free from
this, is the question; how to get loose from this; how to be rid of the
secret tie which binds the strong man and cramps his pride, and makes
him angry at the beauty of the universe,--which will not let him go
forth like a great animal, like the king of the forest, i