country, and propose any changes for the benefit of the people; if such be the uses to which this remarkable publication is to be turned, the work will become anything but a treasure to mankind. The singular merit of this friend of liberty, while making his confessions, and speaking from a situation of a most extraordinary nature, will be lost, and effects will be produced, that this good man, this enlightened man, this amiable, sensible, and honourable man, would be of all others, were he now alive, the first to lament, and the most anxious to deprecate.

We have another work (a work of our own) well fitted to benefit mankind, like this work of M. Dumont; but only on the same condition,-it must be fairly used,-the Reflections of Mr. Burke. Never was such a mirror of instruction held up to all men of popular feelings, of whatever country and age. The great maxims, the fundamental truths it contains, are not only invaluable, but are innumerable. I must beg to observe to you that I read it over and over, and as the events of the world come changing and crowding upon me, every year with more and more admiration, at the profound philosophy which it contains, at the extraordinary powers which could have produced it. But then it is an indictment, not an estimate, of the National Assembly; an exhibition of all the faults that they had committed, and that all men of popular feelings are for ever exposed to commit; it is an eternal lesson and warning to all such men, but it is not from this, to be concluded by men of opposite opinions, that they have not also their lessons and warnings to receive, though they must not suppose they are to find them in the Reflections of Mr. Burke. Observe the candour and propriety with which M. Dumont speaks of this very work, though he was living at this period with those in this country and in France, who resisted both the work and its author, as opposed to all the genuine principles of liberty, and the best interests of mankind at the time. "The first considerable check," says Dumont, "that was given to the general enthusiasm in the cause of the Revolution, came from the famous publication of Burke; where he attacked, himself entirely alone, the gigantic force of the Assembly, and represented these new legislators, in the midst of all their power and glory, as maniacs, who could only destroy everything and produce nothing. This work (he continues), beaming with genius and eloquence, though composed at an age when the imagination is on the decline, created two parties in England. Events have but too much justified it, but it remains to be determined, whether the war-cry which it raised against

France has not contributed to the violence which has charac terized that period. It is possible, that in calling the attention of governments and people of property to the dangers which were connected with this new political religion, Mr. Burke may have been the saviour of Europe; but he mixed up so much exaggeration in his work, and made use of arguments so alarming to the cause of liberty, that he was controverted in many points in a manner not only very plausible, but very forcible. Be that as it may, this publication of Burke, this manifesto against the Assembly, had a prodigious effect in England."

Such are the sentiments of Dumont. I cannot but recommend this great work to your meditation, not as a code of instruction to men of high principles of government, such men were not in his thoughts at the time, but as a code of instruction to all men of popular feelings, who mean well. No sooner had

it appeared, but it was replied to by very able men, and even hooted and ridiculed, such was the violence of that period, by most of the opposite party: a great prejudice against it has in consequence descended to the friends of liberty, even to those who are now in existence. I must counsel you not to give way to any such prejudice, and if your minds are generous and warm, to resort to this great magazine of political wisdom, which may the better enable you, and can alone enable you, to serve your country by combining such wisdom as is here found, with the wisdom that is taught by benevolent feelings and superior talents such feelings, and such talents, are the great materials that go to the composition of a patriot; but they will be both useless, or worse than useless, if advantage be not taken of such lessons of enlightened thought and matured experience, as are to be found in the Reflections of Mr. Burke.

The work of M. Dumont is addressed to two main subjects: what he observed of the National Assembly, and what he could recollect of Mirabeau. On this latter part of his work I have little to say, because everything in it is so interesting, so beautiful, and so masterly, that it is impossible you should not read every word of it with the greatest attention; and it is also so very instructive, so obviously instructive, that you can need no hints from me to enable you to benefit by it. The general character of Mirabeau, and his proceedings in the French Revolution, were sufficiently known before the appearance of Dumont's publication; but the description of him that was given of his per sonal appearance and influence, his talents, speeches, and measures, was so very extraordinary, that it is well to have them

Never

so fully confirmed on such unquestionable authority. was such an instance of the fascination of great talents. Much, too, is added, though of the same nature, that is very curious and very valuable. Take as an instance a very remarkable conversation that took place between Dumont and Mirabeau, which may be very edifying to the student if he will consider it as a sort of scene, to show him the difference that always, in truth, exists between a man of genius and a man of sense, when engaging in political affairs, and how indispensably necessary the latter is to the former. Mirabeau brought to Dumont, in confidence, a grand project that he had formed for the preservation of the king, and the secure establishment of the liberties of the people; and "have you considered," said Dumont, "and do you expect," and "do you suppose," and "are you sure?" Such is the sort of dialogue, and this the kind of interview that passed between the two; and if the student will but meditate on the whole affair, and what was said on both sides, it is seldom that in books he will find anything so fitted to show him the nature and value of circumspection, forethought, caution, what is on the whole called prudence; the quality, that, little attractive or imposing in itself, happens to be that quality without which every other is vain. The part that you will see Dumont take, is infinitely creditable to his sagacity and judgment, and indeed very creditable to him in every respect.

Lastly. The student will do well to observe also the effects that were produced by Mirabeau's licentiousness and want of reputation. It is difficult to escape from the fascination of genius and talents, but it is necessary. Neither in himself nor others must the student ever for a moment suppose, that anything can compensate for the absence of the regular virtues of the human character. Dumont, with all his idolatry of Mira beau, felt this at last, and is obliged to confess it, even in the instance of this wonderful master of the minds of others. То say nothing of the moral part of the case, success, if attained by such a man, which it seldom can be, is, after all, never perfect; and to others, to his sovereign or a party, he is an instrument or weapon, never valued, never to be trusted, liable at any moment to snap short, and wound the hand that employs it. How useless was Mirabeau to Mounier, and the more virtuous part of the Assembly! With the best intentions for the monarchy, with the most ardent love of liberty, how little did he do for either! How affecting, but how instructive is it, to see him melt into tears, even in the presence of Dumont, and be suffo

cated with grief, while he lamented that he was so cruelly to expiate the vices of his youth, and that he had lost the empire of France from the want of virtue! Mirabeau, then, you perceive, is conscious, that if he had been a man of reputation, France would have been at his feet; yet is he a patriot. And what are to be his sensations, when he has shortly after to die,

die prematurely, exhausted by his vices? Does he see in prospect that his country is to be regenerated, does he see any happiness that yet awaits her? Is he consoled with the success of his own efforts for the public good? Does he look forward to the efforts of others? 'My friend," says he, on parting with Dumont, and with an emotion that he had never before shown, "my good friend, I am dying, and we shall probably not see each other again; when I shall be no more, they will then know how to value me. The calamities that I have stayed, will then pour down on France from every quarter; that guilty faction, that trembled before me, will no longer feel restraint. I have before my eyes no visions but those of ill. Oh! my friend, how right we were when we endeavoured at the first to prevent the commons from declaring themselves the National Assembly! It is this that has been the source of all our evils. From the moment they carried that victory, they have never ceased to show themselves unworthy of it; they have chosen to govern the king, instead of governing by the king: but it will soon be the case, that neither they nor he are to govern, and a vile faction will take the lead, and cover France with horrors."

Such may be considered as the dying words of Mirabeau. What a lesson this, on the grander scale of human life, how striking and how complete! I press not upon more awful considerations. "Who art thou that judgest another man's servant "

I may say, however, of licentious men like these, that though it be allowed them, which neither in reason nor religion it can be, to have their kingdom only of this world, and though the balance be of their own choosing, still, when weighed in it, they are found wanting, their voices ruin their influence, and their kingdom is divided from them.

LECTURE II.

PRELIMINARY LECTURE, 1833.

THE first course of my lectures on the French Revolution was given last year; I am now proceeding to the second and last. But before I do so, I know not how to avoid making a few preliminary observations.

I have been, as I conceive, a friend to civil and religious liberty from the earliest period of my life; but this, on the established principles of the English constitution. This constitution, the more I have read and reflected, the more I have learnt to reverence and love. And I am grieved and mortified, I confess, in the extreme, to observe the various crude and wild theories, the unconstitutional doctrines, and what appear to me the shallow sophistries that are everywhere floating around us; and it would more than ever grieve and mortify me, if I could conceive that the youth of this University were, any of them, likely to be influenced by reasonings and views, not worthy to be entertained by the people of England, much less by those who have had the benefit of a regular education.

These mistakes and delusions, for such I deem them, are the noxious exhalations that naturally arise from those states of fermentation into which society is occasionally thrown. I have seen one of these situations of the world already, it was at the opening of the first French Revolution; and I consider myself as on that account more fitted, than those who have had no such experience, to comprehend such situations; more fitted to understand the value of new opinions, when they are offered to us; more fitted to see the exact bearings of such sentiments of benevolence and patriotism as characterize the speeches and writings of those, who are anxious to make experiments on the condition of their fellow-creatures.

New opinions are always very attractive, particularly in any highly civilized state of society, and particularly to the young; that is, to the more effective portion of the public. In the useful and in the fine arts, wherever we turn, and even at last on graver subjects, in legislation and politics, the charm of novelty is deeply felt, and it is quite irresistible to those who, rising into life, full of ardour, and with the consciousness of talents, are always eager to press forward, and are often enabled, by