Englishmen -- THE PRIVILEGE OF SELF-GOVERNMENT, AND DO NOT VEXATIOUSLY INTERMEDDLE WITH THEIR INTERNAL AFFAIRS; in short, if we pursue a liberal policy towards them, both commercially and politically, we shall bind them to us with chains which no power on earth may break, and the connexion between the parent state and those great dependencies may continue until they far exceed us in population." These are generous sentiments and profound truths, and they have shed the bright beams of Hope over that vast colonial empire to which they refer. In legislating for colonies, let it not be forgotten that one of the chief drawbacks to their prosperity is the want of confidence in the stability and permanency of existing regulations. There can be no success, and there can be no safety, whilst those regulations and laws are liable to the influence of peculiar views or individual caprice. It is the people themselves, for whose government the laws are intended, who should be allowed to impose, to modify, or to expunge them. The predominating evil in colonies is THE WANT OF CONFIDENCE AND FAITH IN THE GOVERNMENT. CHAPTER 25. ONE OF THE ERRORS OF GOVERNMENT -- ADVENTURE OF THE BRAMBLE. It has ever been considered one of the first principles of good government, that a frequent and ready communication and intercourse should be maintained between the ruling power and the possessions subject to its authority. The first act of Roman sway was ever to lay down good lines of road through the conquered country; and nothing has tended so much to maintain the authority of the United States over the Red Indians of America, as the formation of roads through the wilderness. The rulers of Great Britain entertain the opinion that when they have once seized upon a distant country, and thrown into it a handful of troops and a few of their importunate friends, with the title of government officers, they have done all that is required of them. They wait with resignation for any account that may be brought of the progress of the new colony, by some wandering merchant-vessel. Despatches, frequently dated twelve months previously, during which time they have been making the tour of all the oceans at present known upon the globe, are brought to Downing Street; and are then thrown aside, or at least are never attended to, probably because they are too old to be deemed interesting. No matter how pressing and immediate the wants of the colony, chance alone affords the opportunity of making their necessities known at home. Letters and despatches accumulate in the Post-office; no vessel arrives bringing intelligence from England, or offering to take away a mail: the Colonial Secretary, having exhausted every official resource in the way of mental occupation, looks out at the window, and meditates upon quail-shooting. His Excellency the Governor, questions the possibility of adding another despatch to the hundred and fifty already composed in illustration of