Lyell felt a keen interest in the broader aspect of political questions, and this not only in his own country,[169] though he took little or no share in party struggles, for the vulgarity of the demagogue and the coarseness of the hustings were offensive to a man of such refinement. His opinions harmonised with his scientific habits of thought, always progressive, but never extravagant. He was in favour of greater freedom in education, of the restriction of class privileges, and of an extension of the franchise, but he saw clearly that anything like universal suffrage, as the world is at present constituted, would only mean giving a preponderating influence to those least competent to wield it; that is, to the more ignorant and easily deluded. As in such cases the glib tongue would become more potent than the voice of reason, the demagogue than the statesman, he feared that the standard of national honour would be almost inevitably lowered, and national disaster be a probable result. That all men are equal and entitled to an equal share in the government--a dogma now regarded in some circles as almost sacred--would have been repudiated by him with the quiet scorn of a man who prefers facts to fancies, and inductive reasoning to sentimental rhapsody. A partisan he could not be, for he saw too clearly that in political matters truth and right were seldom a monopoly of any side, and though by no means wanting in a certain quiet and restrained enthusiasm, he had almost an abhorrence of fanaticism. One example may serve for many, to indicate the way in which he regarded both this spirit and any difficult question. Naturally he had a strong dislike to slavery; he fully recognised the injustice and wrong to the negro, and the evil effects upon the master. Nevertheless, after visiting the Southern States, and giving the impressions of his journey, he thus expresses himself: "The more I reflected on the condition of the slaves, and endeavoured to think on a practical plan for hastening the period of their liberation, the more difficult the subject appeared to me, and the more I felt astonished at the confidence displayed by so many anti-slavery speakers and writers on both sides of the Atlantic. The course pursued by these agitators shows that, next to the positively wicked, the class who are usually called 'well-meaning persons' are the most mischievous in society." He then points out how a strong feeling against slavery had been springing up in Virginia, Kentucky, and Maryland; how the emancipation party had been gaining ground, and slavery steadily retreating southwards, but "from the moment that the abolition movement began, and that missionaries were sent to the Southern States, a reaction was perceived--the planters took the alarm--laws were passed against education--the condition of the slave was worse, and not a few of the planters, by dint of defending their institutions against the arguments and misrepresentations of their