I have so recently noticed, as generally, in all such historical parallels, nothing more is intended to be asserted than a general resemblance, which, however, as such, is eminently remarkable. It would not, perhaps, be difficult anxiously to work out the general resemblance into points of detail, but such an overwrought assimilation could only lead to false conclusions and results. Now that the conflict which our age has to go through is eminently intellectual is implied simply in the prevailing notion of a _public opinion_ and its influence. But, at the same time, we must observe, that in the very notion of opinion, and in the word itself, there is involved a certain character of extreme vagueness and uncertainty. No doubt that which man can properly be said to know is extremely limited and confined. Of very much all that we can have is merely an opinion, and with that must we be content to put up. Nay, inasmuch as all scientific certainty admits not of being imparted to all men, very much of that which we do properly and certainly know is best and most beneficially set forth to others merely as an opinion, in order that we may not seem to force their minds to the admission of this higher certainty. And what is there that the passions of a prejudiced or excited multitude can not be made to adopt as an opinion, which, if presented to them as a sober conviction of reason, would never make an impression? So devoid are they, generally, of that intelligence and accurate knowledge of men and things which are essential and necessary to the formation of a right judgment. If, instead of public opinion (which, unquestionably, is a great power, but which, if it takes a wrong direction, is also a very dangerous one), the appeal were to be made to a public conscience, this would be, to my mind, far more impressive and serious. To illustrate my meaning:--the impression which the events of 1793 made on the general feeling of all Europe, and the universal movement of discontent which, among all European nations, preceded the great political catastrophe of our own days, are instances to which the old maxim, _vox populi vox Dei_, may, without hesitation, be applied. Such feelings are founded on a true and higher judgment--often on a correct presentiment of evil and wrong--even though, as we must admit, that in their utterance more or less of passion and exaggeration reveals itself, and that individual prejudices are not unfrequently mixed up with them. But now seldom, in the ebbing and flooding tide, in the ever-changing course of the stream of public opinion, flows there aught that truly deserves to be called a public judgment. And yet public opinion is even that on which, in this respect, and relatively to the theme of our present Lecture, every thing mainly and principally turns.