ible
to ascertain whether two portions of power are equal, he never can show
that even under a system of universal suffrage, a minority might not
carry every thing their own way, against the wishes and interests of the
majority.

Where there are two portions of power differing in kind, there is, we
admit, no criterion of equality. But then, in such a case, it is absurd
to talk, as Mr Mill does, about the stronger and the weaker. Popularly,
indeed, and with reference to some particular objects, these words
may very fairly be used. But to use them mathematically is altogether
improper. If we are speaking of a boxing-match, we may say that some
famous bruiser has greater bodily power than any man in England. If
we are speaking of a pantomime, we may say the same of some very agile
harlequin. But it would be talking nonsense to say, in general, that the
power of Harlequin either exceeded that of the pugilist or fell short of
it.

If Mr Mill's argument be good as between different branches of a
legislature, it is equally good as between sovereign powers. Every
government, it may be said, will, if it can, take the objects of its
desires from every other. If the French government can subdue England it
will do so. If the English government can subdue France it will do so.
But the power of England and France is either equal or not equal. The
chance that it is not exactly equal is as infinity to one, and may
safely be left out of the account; and then the stronger will infallibly
take from the weaker till the weaker is altogether enslaved.

Surely the answer to all this hubbub of unmeaning words is the plainest
possible. For some purposes France is stronger than England. For some
purposes England is stronger than France. For some, neither has any
power at all. France has the greater population, England the greater
capital; France has the greater army, England the greater fleet. For an
expedition to Rio Janeiro or the Philippines, England has the greater
power. For a war on the Po or the Danube, France has the greater power.
But neither has power sufficient to keep the other in quiet subjection
for a month. Invasion would be very perilous; the idea of complete
conquest on either side utterly ridiculous. This is the manly and
sensible way of discussing such questions. The ergo, or rather the
argal, of Mr Mill cannot impose on a child. Yet we ought scarcely to say
this; for we remember to have heard A CHILD ask whether Bonaparte