prejudice was overcome by a miracle;--but the age of miracles is past, while that of prejudice remains.

CIV.

THE awkwardness and embarrassment which all feel on beginning to write, when they themselves are the theme, ought to serve as a hint to authors, that self is a subject they ought very rarely to descant upon. It is extremely easy to be as egotistical as Montaigne, and as conceited as Rosseau; but it is extremely difficult to be as entertaining as the one, or as eloquent as the other.

CV.

MEN whose reputation stands deservedly high as writers, have often miserably failed as speakers: their pens seem to have been enriched at the expense of their tongues. Addison and Gibbon attempted oratory in the senate, only to fail. "The good speakers," says Gibbon, "filled me with despair; the bad ones with apprehension." And in more modern times, the powerful depictor of Harold, and the elegant biographer of Leo, both have failed in oratory; the capital of the former is so great, in many things, that he can afford to fail in one. But, to return, many reasons might be offered to reconeile that contradiction which my subject seems to involve. In the first place, those talents that constitute a fine writer, are more distinct from those that constitute an orator, than might be at first supposed; I admit that they are sometimes accidentally, but never necessarily combined. That the qualifications for writing, and those for eloquence, are in many points distinct, would appear from the converse of the proposition, for there have been many fine speakers who have proved themselves bad writers. There is good ground for believing that Mr. Pitt would not have shone as an author; and the attempt of Mr. Fox in that arena, has added nothing to his celebrity. Abstraction of thought, seclusion from popular tumult, occa

sional retirement to the study, a diffidence in our own opinions, a deference to those of other men, a sensibility that feels every thing, a humility that arrogates nothing, are necessary qualifications for a writer; but their very opposites would perhaps be preferred by an orator. He that has spent much of his time in his study, will seldom be collected enough to think in a crowd, or confident enough to talk in one. We may also add, that mistakes of the pen in the study, may be committed without publicity, and rectified without humiliation. But mistakes of the tongue, committed in the senate, never escape with impunity. "Fugit irrevocabile verbum." Eloquence, to produce her full effect, should start from the head of the orator, as Pallas from the brain of Jove, completely armed and equipped. Diffidence, therefore, which is so able a Mentor to the writer, would prove a dangerous counsellor for the orator. As writers, the most timid may boggle twenty times in a day with their pen; and it is their own fault if it be known even to their valet; but, as orators, if they chance to boggle once with their tongue, the detection is as public as the delinquency; the punishment is irremissible, and immediately follows the offence. It is the knowledge and the fear of this, that destroys their eloquence as orators, who have sensibility and taste for writing, but neither collectedness nor confidence for speaking; for fear not only magnifies difficulties, but diminishes our power to overcome them, and thus doubly debilitates her victims. But another cause of their deficiency as orators, who have shone as writers, is this, "mole ruunt suá;" they know that they have a character to support, by their tongue, which they have previously gained by their pen. They rise determined to attempt more than other men, and for that very reason they effect less, and doubly disappoint their hearers. They miss of that which is clear and obvious, and appropriate, in a laboured search after that which is far fetched, recondite, and refined; like him that would fain give us better bread than can be made of wheat. Affectation is the cause of this error, disgust its consequence, and disgrace its punishment.

F

CVI.

SENSIBILITY would be a good portress, if she had but one hand; with her right she opens the door to pleasure, but with her left to pain.

CVII.

IT would be most lamentable if the good things of this world were rendered either more valuable, or more lasting; for, despicable as they already are, too many are found eager to purchase them, even at the price of their souls!

CVIII.

HOPE is a prodigal young heir, and Experience is his banker; but his drafts are seldom honoured, since there is often a heavy balance against him, because he draws largely on a small capital, is not yet in possession, and if he were, would die.

CIX.

WE might perhaps with truth affirm, that all nations do, at all times, enjoy exactly as much liberty as they deserve, and no more. But it is evident this observation applies only to those nations that are strong enough to maintain their independence; because a country may be overwhelmed by a powerful neighbour, as Greece by Turkey, Italy by France; or a state may be made the victim of a combination of other states, as Poland, or Saxony, or Genoa; and it is not meant to affirm that all of these enjoy as much liberty as they deserve; for nations, as well as individuals, are not exempted from some evils, for the causes of which they cannot justly accuse themselves. But, if we return to our first position, we might perhaps with truth affirm, that France, in the commencement of her revolution, was too mad; that during the reign of terror she was too cowardly; and under the despotism of Napoleon, too ambitious to be worthy of so great a blessing as liberty. She is

now gradually becoming more rational, and, in the same proportion, more free. Of some of the other nations of Europe, we might observe that Portugal and Spain are too ignorant and bigoted for freedom, " populus vult decipi ;" that Russia is too barbarous, and Turkey, in all points, too debased, and too brutalised, to deserve to be free; for as the physically blind can have no light, so the intellectually blind can have no liberty; Germany, in as much as she seems to merit freedom the most, will probably first attain it; but not by assassination; for power will use the dungeon, when despair uses the dagger. In England, we enjoy quite as much liberty as we are worthy, or capable of, if we consider the strong and deep ramifications of that corruption that pervades us. It is a corruption not restricted to the representative, but commencing with the constituent; and if the people are sold by others, it is because they have first sold themselves. If mercy is doubly blessed, corruption is doubly cursed; cursed be it, then, both "in him that gives, and him that takes," for no man falls without a stumbling block, nor yields without a tempter. In confirmation of what has been advanced above, we might also add, that all national "benefits, of which liberty is the greatest, form as complete and visible a part of God's moral administration already begun, as those blessings that are particular and individual; we might even say that the former are more promptly and punctually bestowed than the latter; because nations, in their national capacity, can exist only on earth, and, therefore, it is on earth alone that as nations they can be punished or rewarded; but individuals will exist in another state, and in that they will meet a full and final retribution. It is amoral obligation, therefore, on nations, to defend their freedom, and by defending, to deserve it. Noble minds, when struggling for their liberties, often save themselves by their firmness, and always inspire others by their example Therefore the reign of terror to which France submitted, has been more justly termed " the reign of cowardice." One knows not which most to execrate; the nation that could submit to suffer such atrocities, or that low and blood

thirsty demagogue that could inflict them. France, in succumbing to such a wretch as Robespiere, exhibited not her patience but her pusillanimity. I have read of a King of Spain, who having inadvertently expressed some compassion for one of the victims at an auto da fe, was condemned to lose one quart of his blood, which the inquisitor general insisted should be publicly burnt by the hands of the common hangman, in the great square of Madrid. Here again, we know not which most to despise, the monarch that` could submit to such a sentence, or the proud priest that could pronounce it; and the most galling of all fetters, those rivetted by superstition, well befitted that people, that could tamely behold such an insult offered to their king. Thie then seems to be the upshot of what has been advanced. that liberty is the highest blessing that a nation can enjoy ; that it must be first deserved before it can be enjoyed, ana that it is the trucst interest of the prince, no less than of the people, to employ all just and honest means that it may be both deserved and enjoyed. But as civil liberty is the greatest blessing, so civil strife is the greatest curse that can befal a nation; and a people should be as cautious of straining their privilege, as a prince his prerogative; for the true friend of both knows, that either, if they submit to encroachments to-day, are only preparing for themselves the choice of two evils for to-morrow,-humiliation or resistance. But as corruption cannot thrive where none will submit to be corrupted, so also oppression cannot prosper, where none will submit to be enslaved. Rome had ceased to be tenanted by Romans, or Nero would not have dared to amuse himself with his fiddle, nor Caligula with his horse.

CX.

THERE are many books written by many men. from which two truths only are discoverable by the readers: namely, that the writers thereof wanted two things-principle and preferment.