mighty warrior was to rise up and take the command of our armies at the critical juncture, and to lead them to victory; but the king and his ministers, and a triumphant majority of the people of England, were confident, from the purity of their intentions, that the God of battles was with them, and that, sooner or later, the enemies of social order and religion would be made to succumb. Then might the cheering rays of constitutional liberty and of pure religion, be seen piercing the gloom with which the Continent of Europe was enveloped, and dispersing the clouds of sedition and irreligion which had rolled from thence to England. The change of sentiment which at this period began to take place in this country can only be duly appreciated by those who witnessed it, and who have lived long enough to trace its growth through the last half century. The splendid victories which commenced with our fleets, and were consummated by our armies, were but the outward evidences of the glorious triumphs of religion by which they were consecrated, and of which they were the unquestionable results.

My residence at Cambridge commenced at a period when republican France was steeped in blood; whilst, in England, men of high rank and distinguished talents had not only caught the pestilential infection, but were so little conscious of its nature, that they made every effort to spread it far and wide. They seem to have thought, to use the words of the Abbé Barruel, "that the intentions of the first authors of the French Revolution were pure, and that they only sought the happiness and regeneration of empires; that the evils incident

to their proceedings arose from the obstacles thrown in their way; that a great people could not be regenerated without commotion; but that the tempest would subside; and that then nations, astonished at the apprehensions they had entertained of the French Revolution, and true only to its principles, would rejoice in the success of their invitation." "This was the favourite boast of Jacobins and their emissaries; the plausible delusion that converted to their doctrine of the 'Rights of Man,' as the summit of legislative perfection, men more blind than wicked, and who might have been mistaken for honest, if virtue could have associated with ferocity in search of happier days."

On the principle that the end must justify the means, these deluded votaries were even led, by their fatal credulity, to admit the necessity of the carnage of the memorable 10th of August, and of the horrid butcheries of the 2nd of September. The happy days to which they looked forward made them contemplate, unappalled, the extermination of the innumerable victims of famine, the sword, or the guillotine.

Of the pseudo-patriots in England at this time, one of the greatest was at the head of the house of Russell; and, as Cambridge was a fortress worth occupying, a meeting was held there, on the Castle-hill, which the Duke of Bedford was, by announcement, to attend. Accordingly, when the day came, and thousands from the surrounding country, as well as from the University, were assembled, his Grace, who, as yet, had only so far assumed the external badge of citizenship as to appear in a Brutus crop, in contrast with the full-bottomed

wigs of the Seniors, and powdered locks of the Undergraduates of the University, stood up above the crowd, and made a long and vehement harangue in favour of those revolutionary measures which he had come there to advocate.

Loud plaudits followed his harangue, and the mob were becoming clamorous for some demonstration in his favour. But it so happened that a greater than the citizen Duke was there. One well known to the University as the Public Orator, a native, likewise, of the county of Cambridge, of majestic presence, and of stentorian voice, was seen to raise himself, of a sudden, high above the heads of all around him, by making a cart his platform, from whence he sent forth such a volume of powerful eloquence, well spiced with humour, and replete with plain good sense, that his words came home to all around him, and so completely turned the tables on the Duke that he positively had to make his escape from the University with some danger to his person.

A greater triumph over a demagogue assemblage was perhaps never achieved. The scene is still vividly present to my mind; neither have I forgotten the witticism to which it gave rise. Mr. Pitt, the minister of the day, thought the affair of so much consequence, that Dr. Mansell, the triumphant orator, was soon after made Master of Trinity College; and, lo and behold! after being installed as such, there appeared, one morning, in Trinity Great Quadrangle, a cart with a placard on which were inscribed the words

"Sic itur ad astra."

Far from taking offence at this, the Master, who subsequently became Bishop of Bristol, no doubt relished a joke which proclaimed his title to a laugh as winner.

In the year 1797 the "Anti-Jacobin Weekly Newspaper" was started, and such was its success that, in the brief period of less than a twelvemonth, it seemed to have gained its object of making Jacobinism and Jacobins contemptible. But it is not my wish to dwell on topics such as these, gratifying as they are, and characteristic of by-gone times of transcendant interest; nor to number the victories gained by England during her protracted struggles with France. The fame of these has long since been spread over the world on the leaves of daily, weekly, monthly and quarterly periodicals; and recorded in voluminous histories of such enduring worth, as to defy the ravages of fire or time. Neither can I presume to do more than glance at the almost miraculous progress of scientific discovery in every department of human philosophy; a progress as far beyond that of any other recorded period, as the rate of travelling by steam is beyond that of the old German post-waggon. I well remember an old alderman of Truro who died early in the present century at the age of seventy or upwards, and who had never, in the whole course of his days, travelled farther from home than Bodmin, a distance of about twenty-four miles. My first journey, of eighty-four miles, to Exeter, by a stage-coach, occupied two days; and from London to Cambridge by "The Diligence" from the White Horse, Fetter-lane, to the Hoop Inn, Cambridge, carrying three inside and one outside passengers, was a work of twelve hours. But what have

been the achievements of locomotion compared with those of Light and Electricity! Much within my recollection : it was a great treat to a traveller from the country to enter London before the lights were put out in the shops; and, when this had taken place, no one can form an idea of the indescribable gloom of the darkness rendered visible by the dull oil lamps, hung up in single file, and far between, the only illuminators of long streets, badly paved, and protected by venerable watchmen, whose chief prerogative it was to break the rest of the citizens by calling the hour of the night. Country towns were still, if possible, left in deeper gloom; and, where gas now sparkles, "A lanthorn (in the words of an old riddle) was your only friend," "To light you to your journey's end."

My friend, Sir Humphry Davy, once told me that he had devoted himself to Chemistry because it appeared to him to be the most fertile field for scientific discovery that remained to be cultivated; and events have shown that he formed a correct opinion. Yet it required more than even his prescience to anticipate the discoveries which modern science has rendered familiar to the present generation in Chemistry, in Photography, and in universal Physics; managing, with almost equal facility, imponderable elements, and the most ponderous and enormous masses of matter. Fifty years ago, the projector of such a building as the first Crystal Palace would have. been derided; and now that it has arisen and passed away, it is difficult to say whether the skill which reared it, or the vandalism which pulled it down, is most calculated to excite our wonder.