sert the wisdom and expediency of tolerating, not only imperfections, but even evils, in an establishment, until those evils can be removed without producing greater. And I seem to assert this upon the surest foundation; because the principle of reformation, unless restrained by this qualifying clause, will never suffer the world to remain in quiet. As surely as no establishment can be perfect, so surely will reformers never be wanting to disturb it. I know the difficulty of ascertaining the crisis, when reformation is to commence ;-this must be determined by the circumstances of time and place—yet I cannot forbear to think as I do: and, if I am in error, it must be my love of peace and good order that has misled me. 66 "Very many persons," says Mr. Bayle, "will inflexibly adhere to this maxim, that it is a lesser evil to bear with abuses in church and state, than to cure them by remedies which will overturn the constitution in church and state t." I must own myself to be one of these persons and am ready to say, with the good Bishop Hall, that some quiet error may be better than some unruly truth; or, as Erasmus had said before him, mihi adeo est invisa discordia, ut veritas etiam displiceat seditiosa. But it should seem, as if reformations in the state were far more easy and far more practicable, than reformations in the church; and, accordingly, a worthy person some years ago exhibited a plan, very elaborately drawn, for parliamentary independency and oeconomical reformation ‡. I was affected with uncommon pleasure at the report of this plan, which (I thought) was striking directly at the root of the thing: for true patriotism, as a great states The world can never remain in peace, because sectaries and fanatics will every where think it a duty to disturb it : And prove their doctrine orthodox + Dict. CASTELLANUS. Note Q. Decad. VI. Epist. 7. Burke's Speech, &c. on Feb. 11, 1780. HUDIBRAS. 1 man observed most justly, can have no foundation, but frugality*; and vain will be all attempts to render Members of Parliament independent, till they can be cured of their extravagancies, and prevailed on to be occonomists. But, to my very great grief as well as surprise, the plan of reformation he proposed, had no respect at all to the oeconomy of parliament meu, but only to the expences of certain departments, connected with and dependant on the court; as if great and important savings might thence have been made to the nation. Too great savings cannot be made to the nation: the nation stands in need of all that can be saved: and what Mr. Burke advanced, under this general idea, had a real foundation in reason and equity. I only doubt, whether the honourable gentleman, in pursuing this idea, did not contemplate upon too small a scale, when he would have reduced the expences of royalty to the accuracy and precision of private oeconomy. I doubt, also, whether the savings from this reduction would have been indeed of such capital and essential importance, as was imagined. And, lastly, I doubt most of all, whether, with our present manners, even government itself could make the reformation proposed; that is whether such reformation be really practicable. 66 But here, Mr. Burke hath been before us : "I know,' says he, "it is common for men to say, that such and such things are perfectly right, very desirable, but unfortunately not practicable, Oh, no, Sir, no: those things, which are not practicable, are not desirable. †" Indeed? But, is not parliamentary independency desirable; and does it thence follow, that it is attainable? Parliamentary independency must be according to parliamentary manners; which, if we may trust the representations of those who knew them well, are by no means favourable to it, at present. The late Lord Chesterfield, speaking of Sir Robert Walpole, delivers himself thus; Money was the chief engine of his administration, and he employed it with a success, which in a manner disgraced humanity. He was not, it is true, the inventor of that shameful method of governing, which had been gaining ground insensibly ever since Charles II.; but, with uncommon skill and unbounded profusion, he 66 * Lord Bath in Swift's Letters, + Speech, &c. brought it to that perfection, which at this time disho nours and distresses this country, and which, if not checked (and God knows how it can be checked) must ruin it*." The late Lord Bath, apologizing to Swift for desisting "to struggle against corruption," declared "the whole nation to be so abandoned and corrupt, that the Crown can never fail of a majority in both Houses of Parliament.--I am convinced," says he, "that our constitution is already gone; and we are idly struggling to maintain, what in truth has been long lost." Now, are things really so as these noble Lords have represented them, or are they not? for we presume not to decide. If they be so, why then, surely, this refor mation in parliament, so confessedly desirable, is not, however, so confessedly practicable || And whence, after all, should independency arise; or, were it once upon its legs, how support itself? "Can a nation, venal, vicious, and corrupt, long preserve its liberty? Liberty, to be relished and preserved, requires noble, brave, and virtuous souls: otherwise, it degenerates into licentiousness, and ends by becoming the prey of a master who can purchase it. A people, without manners, is not made to be free: true liberty must be accompanied with a love of equity, humanity, a deep sense of the natural rights of men. Feelings of this kind can only be the fruits of a liberal and virtuous education; far different from that narrow and servile mode of educating, which now prevails in every country. What then can be wanting to complete the happiness of a people, who glory in the best and freest constitution? What remains to be desired by a nation, into whose ports the riches of the world find their way? This remains to be desired: a generous education, integrity of manners, true notions of justice; in a word, dispositions and appetites, opposite to that ardent and unquenchable thirst after filthy lucre, * Characters, &c. + Swift's Letters. No discouragement is here meant to any attempt towards reformation: duty as well as policy should put us upon reforming whatever can be reformed. We may moderate evils, if we cannot remove them and this perhaps is all, the worthy person aimed at; governing himself by the old rule, "of asking too much, in order to obtain enough"-iniquum petere, ut æquum ferat, Quintil. IV. 5 the abundance whereof is fit only to stifle and extinguish virtues the most useful to society. "People of Britain, whence these continual alarms? these factions which tear you, these dark and splenetic humours which devour you? The treasures you accumulate, far from confirming your happiness, are to you a never-ceasing source of trouble. How is it, that, in the very bosom of liberty and abundance, we see you deep in reverie, unquiet, and more dissatisfied with your lot, than the meanest and most contemptible slaves? Learn the true cause of your anxieties and your fears. The love of gold never makes good citizens. Liberty cannot be firmly established, but upon equity; or bravely defended, but by virtue. Leave to despots the foolish and destructive glory of making conquests, and be content with enjoying the blessings of nature in peace. Cultivate then, Ŏ Britons, reason and wisdom: employ yourselves in perfecting your government and your laws. Fear luxury, fatal to manners, fatal to liberty: dread fanaticism, political and religious. So shall your fortunate Isle become the model of nations, and your liberty shine propitious to all the people upon earth*." CHARACTER OF MR. FOX, BY SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. MR. Fox united in a most remarkable degree, the seemingly repugnant characters of the mildest of men, and the most vehement of orators. In private life he was gentle, modest, placable, kind, of simple manners, and so averse from parade and dogmatism, as to be not only unostentatious, but even somewhat inactive in conversation. His superiority was never felt but in the instruction which he imparted, or in the attention which his generous preference usually directed to the more obscure members of the company. The simplicity of his manners was far from excluding that perfect urbanity and amenity which flowed still more from the mildness of his nature, than * Une nation vénale, vicieuse, corrompue, peut-elle donc longtems conserver sa liberté ? &c. Systême Social. Part II. ch. 6. from familiar intercourse with the most polished society of Europe. His conversation, when it was not repressed by modesty or indolence, was delightful. The pleasantry perhaps of no man of wit had so unlaboured an appearance. It seemed rather to escape from his mind than to be produced by it. He had lived on the most intimate terms with all his contemporaries distinguished by wit, politeness, or philo sophy, or learning, or the talents of public life. In the course of thirty years he had known almost every man in Europe whose intercourse could strengthen, or enrich, or polish the mind. His own literature was various and elegant. In classical erudition, which by the custom of England is more peculiarly called learning, he was inferior to few professed scholars. Like all men of genius he delighted to take refuge in poetry, from the vulgarity and irritation of business. His own verses were easy and pleasing, and might have claimed no low place among those which the French call Vers de Societé. The poetical character of his mind was displayed in his extraordinary partiality for the poetry of the two most poetical nations, or at least languages of the West, those of the Greeks and of the Italians. He disliked political conversation, and never willingly took any part in it. To speak of him justly, as an Orator, would require a long essay. Every where natural, he carried into public something of that simple and negligent exterior which belonged to him in private. When he began to speak, a common observer might have thought him awkward; and even a consummate judge would only have been struck with the exquisite justness of his ideas, and the transparent simplicity of his manners. But no sooner had he spoken for some time, than he was changed into another being.-He forgot himself and every thing around him. He thought only of his subject. His genius warmed and kindled as he went on. He darted fire into his audience. Torrents of impetuous and irresistible eloquence swept along their feelings and conviction. He certainly possessed above all moderns that union of reason, simplicity, and vehemence, which formed the Prince of Orators, He was the most Demosthenean speaker since DEMOSTHENES. "I knew him," says Mr. BURKE, in a pamphlet written after their unhappy difference, "when |