of imposing upon it; considering again the influence a daily communication of the debates in Parliament has on this public opinion, and that, but for the report of speeches, they would be unknown to the nation at large, or even would not exist such as they are, being intended for the people full as much as for the House, it is very natural to feel a considerable degree of surprise at finding the persons employed in collecting this all-important communication, taking on their knees, and by stealth, the notes which are to feed the political appetite and legitimate curiosity of an enlightened public. Instead of an alimentary organ, Mr Windham seems to look upon it as rather a secretory one, of which he is ashamed.

The freedom of the press is considered in England as the palladium of national liberty; on the other hand, the abuse of it is undoubtedly its curse. It is the only plague, somebody has said, which Moses forgot to inflict upon Egypt. This modern plague penetrates, like the vermin of the old, into the interior of families, carrying in its train defamation and misery. The press diffuses, as to politics, as many falsehoods as truths; and although it furnishes means of refutation, apparently reciprocal, and, from the shock of opinions, the real truth might be expected to come at last, it is in fact reciprocity all on one side; for I find every one reads only the papers of his par.

ty, strengthening his errors and prejudices instead of removing them. The constitution leaves to every man the use of his pen as of his sword, and he may be punished for a libel as for a mur der; but the one crime is more difficult to prove than the other, it is susceptible of so many different degrees, and takes such various shapes, that it commonly escapes the grasp of the law, although its consequences are infinitely more general and extensive. The evil is, no doubt, easier pointed out than its remedy. But whatever evils may result from the freedom of the press, it is not now to be suppressed, being so closely interwoven in the English manners and national constitution, as not to be torn from it without destroying the whole texture and, notwithstanding its enormous inconveniences, it is impossible to deny, that this people owes much to this freedom. It has tasted of the tree of knowledge, and cannot now return to its primitive state of ignorance and innocence.

The consequence of this general publicity is, a sort of transparency of the body politic, which allows you to see many wonderful, and some alarming natural processes: the labour of the stomach and of the intestines, and the suction of innumerable hungry vessels, carrying health and strength, or disease and death, in incessant streams of blood and humours, to every part of

the body. Any derangement is, of course, observed immediately; and the cause, as well as the seat of the disorder, being obvious, the hand and the knife can penetrate, cleanse, and remove, without danger, under the guidance of the eye. A body so formed and constituted would have the chance of a long and healthy life, although it might not be a joyful one; and the mind appertaining to that body would, in all probability, acquire precisely that plaintive cast and habit of grumbling, so observable among the inhabitants of this fine and prosperous island.

Extremes in government, says Hume, approach near to each other. In a firmly-established arbitrary government the ruler has no jealousy of the people, and allows them a considerable degree of liberty;-in a republic, none of the magistrates are so eminent as to alarm the people, and they are suffered to apply the law in all its strictness and severity. But in a limited government, like that of England, the magistrates and the people will be reciprocally jealous and watchful; the liberty of speaking and publishing will be carried as far as it can go without becoming a crime, and stop only at what the laws define libel and sedition. Such are the limits of the power of the magistrates and of the rights of the people; and they will both go to the utmost length of it. It has occurred to me, that if each public newspa

per was divided between the two great national parties; if, for instance, a ministerial printer was obliged to send his sheets, printed on one side only, to one of the opposition, who would fill the other half with what he pleased, so as not to administer the dose of poison without its antidote, the people could hardly be so grossly deceived as they are now. A difficulty, however, would remain; the third party, of absolute reformers, who might not consent to divide with the whigs, and, like Mr Windham, would be reduced to pair off with themselves.

The report of the debates at the time of the parliamentary inquiry concerning the Duke of York, (an affair which reflects both honour and disgrace on this nation) having occasioned a great deal of scandal, and, as is alleged, having unfairly prepossessed public opinion, the ministers wished to spare themselves similar scandal on the occasion of the Walcheren inquiry, and one of them declared his intention of enforcing, day by day, the standing order by which any member can, whenever he pleases, and without assigning his reasons, send the public out of the gallery. On this intimation, Mr Sheridan moved an amendment to the standing order, making a previous decision of the house necessary to clear the gallery. During the debate on Mr Sheridan's motion, Mr Windham denied that the reports

could be considered as very important to national liberty, since the custom is not of more than 25 or 30 years standing, and that, according to the professed friends of this same liberty, it has been on the decline ever since. In his zeal against the reports, Mr Windham attacked also the reporters, charging them with being a parcel of needy adventurers, bankrupts, footmen, &c. He received from one of them an excellent letter, shewing in strong, but temperate language, the injustice and illiberality of this personal attack. Mr Windham did not disdain justifying himself by an answer worthy of his talents and character; and ended by an offer, waiving privilege, of that sort of satisfaction which one gentleman owes to another. I have this anecdote from a gentleman who had seen the letters.

The House of Commons has exhibited lately a very curious tragi-comic scene, which I do not introduce as characteristic of the manners of this singular people, being, perhaps, even among them, unique in extravagance. An honourable member, a country gentleman, and, I believe, a county member, took offence at some slight he had experienced during the late examination in Parliament; and having made some intemperate remarks, supported by oaths, there was a motion, that the words of the honourable member should be taken down. This produced another explo