difficulty and danger, from the ore of the stoic philosophy; but it is to be found unalloyed

and entire in the Christian system, and is there called FAITH.

ESSAY XII.

The following Address was delivered at Bristol, in the year 1794-95. The only omissions regard the names of persons: and I insert them here in support of the assertion made by me, Vol. II. p. 37-40, and because this very Lecture has been referred to in an infamous Libel in proof of the Author's former Jacobinism. Different as my present convictions are on the subject of philosophical Necessity, I have for this reason left the last page unaltered.

Αει γαρ της Ελευθεριας εφιεμαι πολλα δε εν και τοις φιλελευθεροις μισητέα, αντελευθερα.

Translation. For I am always a lover of Liberty; but in those who would appropriate the Title, I find too many points destructive of Liberty and hateful to her genuine advocates.

Companies resembling the present will, from a variety of circumstances, consist chiefly of

the zealous Advocates for Freedom. It will therefore be our endeavour, not so much to excite the torpid, as to regulate the feelings of the ardent and above all, to evince the necessity of bottoming on fixed Principles, that so we may not be the unstable Patriots of Passion or Accident, nor hurried away by names of which we have not sifted the meaning, and by tenets of which we have not examined the consequences. The Times are trying; and in order to be prepared against their difficulties, we should have acquired a prompt facility of adverting in all our doubts to some grand and comprehensive Truth. In a deep and strong soil must that tree fix its roots, the height of which is to "reach to Heaven, and the sight of it to the ends of all the Earth."

The example of France is indeed a "Warning to Britain." A nation wading to their rights through blood, and marking the track of Freedom by Devastation! Yet let us not embattle our Feelings against our Reason. Let us not indulge our malignant passions under the mask of Humanity. Instead of railing with infuriate declamation against these excesses, we shall be more profitably employed

in developing the sources of them. French Freedom is the beacon which if it guides to Equality should shew us likewise the dangers that throng the road.

The annals of the French Revolution have recorded in letters of blood, that the knowledge of the few cannot counteract the ignorance of the many; that the light of philosophy, when it is confined to a small minority, points out the possessors as the victims, rather than the illuminators, of the multitude. The patriots of France either hastened into the dangerous and gigantic error of making certain evil the means of contingent good, or were sacrificed by the mob, with whose prejudices and ferocity their unbending virtue forbade them to assimilate. Like Sampson, the people were strong -like Sampson, the people were blind. Those two massy pillars of the temple of Oppression, their Monarchy and Aristocracy,

With horrible Convulsion to and fro

They tugg'd, they shook-till down they came and drew The whole roof after them with burst of thunder

Upon the heads of all who sat beneath,

Lords, Ladies, Captains, Counsellors, and Priests,

Their choice nobility!

MILTON. SAM. AGON.

The Girondists, who were the first republicans in power, were men of enlarged views and great literary attainments; but they seem to have been deficient in that vigour and daring activity, which circumstances made necessary. Men of genius are rarely either prompt in action or consistent in general conduct. Their early habits have been those of contemplative indolence; and the day-dreams, with which they have been accustomed to amuse their solitude, adapt them for splendid speculation, not temperate and practicable counsels. Brissot, the leader of the Gironde party, is entitled to the character of a virtuous man, and an eloquent speaker; but he was rather a sublime visionary, than a quick-eyed politician; and his excellences equally with his faults rendered him unfit for the helm in the stormy hour of Revolution. Robespierre, who displaced him, possessed a glowing ardor that still remembered the end, and a cool ferocity that never either overlooked, or scrupled the means. What that end was, is not known: that it was a wicked one, has by no means been proved. I rather think, that the distant prospect, to