begun, before you are solicitous to approach nearer the man. In the midst of passion, which sometimes agitates him until he pants high, he discovers so much gentleness of temper, and so little personal feeling, that a stranger might easily imagine he saw this man among the gods, unincumbered with any mortal affection, debating for the good of mankind. So much pure principle, natural sagacity, strong argument, noble feeling, adorned with the choicest festoons of ancient and modern literature, and all these issuing/from a source, hitherto inexhaustible, never distinguished a man like this.

With these advantages of consistency, of integrity, of political sagacity, of irresistible, lengthened argument, no wonder, though he never condescends to personality, if all those over whom the influence of corruption has passed, shrink under his presence. They have nothing to fear. Fox never descends from the summit of his reputation; he feels himself in the midst of Europe, he knows he has long been a spectacle both to his own and the neighbouring nations, and, standing in the midst of Europe, he seems to hold in one hand the scroll of his past life, while his eye, accompained with a great look, pierces down to posterity in pledge of future constancy.

Pitt you are willing to hear until he is exhausted. But Fox first lays down an interesting position, fixes your earnest regard, and attaches you wholly to himself; then, by the rapidity of his utterance, hurries you on, not to immediate conviction, for he is sure the minds of all are pressing forward, and thereby he is enabled, fearless of presuming on their patience, to give a loose to his feelings, to his genius, to his learning, all which united, and mingling and assisting each other, give a force to his arguments, irresistible, and would confound all distinction between his friends and enemies, did not Pitt, at these moments, the sole support of his party, rising midst the calm and silence of the solemn impression, recal to a new conflict the dubious feelings of his majority.

Fox in one respect, will for ever be esteemed above, his contemporaries. Though he has grown gray in the opposition, he has never made one personal enemy. At the end of a twenty years contention, he is still considered a man of a noble disposition, and still maintains the influence of his former days, both in the moment of debate, and with the nation at large.

EPISTOLARY.

IN The Port Folio, for May, a friend to modest merit indicated for preservation, an affectionate memorial and a beautiful poem of the late sir John Honeywood. The following letter exhibits no mean proof of his sprightliness and ease in the epistolary style.

The Rev. Mr. Holmes, in his biography of the late learned president of Yale college, remarks that, during an autumnal vacation Dr. STILES made

a tour into the states of New-York and Vermont. In this journey he met with Mr. HONEYWOOD, who had formerly been his pupil at college; and who, as an orphan child, and a youth of fae genius, shared, among many others, the benefits of his patronage. Delighted with the society of his President and Patron, he accompanied him in the northern part of his tour, and became acquainted with his manner of travelling, of which, in a letter, he gives this characteristic sketch.

"This morning I had scarcely opened my eyes on the dawn, when my landlord informed me that the President was in town. I started up, mounted my horse, and found him eating his breakfast in a paltry inn, with as much good humour and contentment as he could have done in a palace. I shall make no apology for sending you a little history of my ride to Bennington, whither my dear preceptor allowed me to escort him. As this was a most delightful tour, I dare say that he has furnished you with many curious particulars; but some, which demonstrate the goodness of his heart, I am suspicious his modesty has concealed. These, like his other virtues, must be celebrated by his friends. I shall not tire your patience by a description of the bad roads. In all probability we had reached C― without a single adventure; but, lo! when we least expected, nature presented a curiosity. The remains of a mighty tree, laid low in dust, true emblem of fallen greatness, called our attention. We alighted in a moment; found it, upon mensuration, to be upwards of four feet in diameter; and next, counting the grains, were delighted to discover that two hundred and forty years had been the years of its pilgrimage. We arrived at C—— about sunset, and, as neither the president nor I, make corporeal suppers, we sat down to a very elegant literary repast. Heliogabalus, that imperial epicure, who is said to have expended half a million on a meal, never had any thing to equal this.

·

"We determined to take in our route the place where Count BAUM, of the Hessians, was defeated in 1777. Here occurred an instance of the president's humanity. At one of the houses where we called to inquire concerning the battle, a gentleman showed us several human bones, which had been picked up in the fields. The tear of pity stole into the eye of my venerable companion. These, Sir,' said he to the person who showed them, are the remains of some unhappy mortal. The desire of glory, or, perhaps, the commands of a tyrant, led him here. He is now no more. Let us forgive the enemy, and respect the man. Perhaps he has left a mother, a sister, or even a tenderer connexion, who, at this moment, is lamenting his loss. How exquisite must their feelings be, did they know that his bones lie thus neglected and unburied. For the honour of humanity, Sir, I will give your servant a reasonable compensation, if you will let him bury them

in the earth.' The man, to whom this pathetic request was addressed, seemed to feel but little, though he was very affable and obliging. I have, however, the satisfaction to assure you, that, on my return from Bennington, I enforced this request, and saw those mortifying remains of mortality deposited in the parent dust. That unfortunate soldier, whose bones, for nine long years, lay bleaching on the heights of Woolomscoe, has now as soft a bed as the ALEXANDERS, the POMPEYS, and the CÆSARS.-While I am among the tombs, let me tell you we paid a visit to the grave of the Count de BAUM, He lies buried hard by the river's brink, and a little rising of the turf alone distinguishes his grave. We were disappointed to see the grave of this great commander so wretchedly neglected, and first thought of opening a subscription for the purpose of erecting a decent stone; but being informed that his mother is living in Germany, the president adopted the resolution of writing to her, through the channel of Sir WILLIAM HOWE.

"The country round Bennington is highly romantic. In most places, we commanded an extensive horizon-long tracts of low land, variegated with young orchards, decent cottages terminated by the green mountains, the ascent of which is frequently with a slope, truly picturesque. The mountains here give us not the idea of the walls of a prison, which I have sometimes had in the Highlands, but of vast airy columns, ranged at unequal distances, to support the great vault of heaven. In one of the little drawings I send you, you will find a tolerably good view of the country, and particularly you will observe the slope of the hills, which attracted our admiration so strongly.

The president fancied this place bore a strong resemblance to his favourite Palestina, and drew a beautiful comparison, in terms that were nearly poetical. I have taken the freedom of reducing his observations into verse.

"'Tis thus, he cried, as hush'd in soft repose,
On Zion's plains the sacred Jordan flows;

Thus rise his banks, with palms and willows crown'd,
Where Salem's virgins, to the silver sound
Of mystic cymbals, danced. On every side,
Thus Judah's mountains rise in airy pride.
Thus Olivet, where erst the INCARNATE God,
Retiring with his faithful followers, trod—
Whence, as in dazzling majesty he rose,
He saw the sapphire gates of heaven unclose;
Wrapt in effulgence, met th' angelic throng,
And heard their lyre awake the victor song."

FRENCH PHILOSOPHERS.

In his self Biography, a work of signal powers of enchantment, MaxMONTEL, biassed by the fervour of friendship, has drawn a very flattering picture of Helvetius, Diderot, and company. While we admire the talents of some of those literary heroes, we deprecate the prevalence of their principles. Mr. Duters, a traveller of the old school, was on terms of great intimacy with the Parisian philosophers. Let us dispassionately listen to his story, which we firmly believe is a faithful testimony to the truth. The heads of most of the men of letters in France were not scantily supplied with the seeds of Genius and the stores of knowledge, how their hearts were governed remains for the Great Searcher to analyze. EDITOR.

In my review of the most remarkable classes of society in Paris, I did not forget the philosophers. I wished to know them intimately, and my character as an author required that I should court their support; for although their suffrage did not positively establish the reputation of literary men, it contributed much to promote or retard it, according as they were well or ill received by the philosophers. I had already known M. d'Alembert several years before my residence in Paris. He invited me to the circle which was held at the house of his friend, Mademoiselle de l'Espinasse, which was the rendezvous of all the philosophical sect, of the wits who were supported by it, and of all those who expected anything by attaching themselves to this sort of society. The graces and intellectual charms of Mlle. de l'Espinasse, a natural and easy air, the manners of the great world, which she had acquired with Madame du Deffant, and the assiduity of d'Alembert, soon made her circle celebrated. A singular conformity of birth, taste, and disposition, seemed to cement the union of these two persons. D'Alembert was the natural son of Madame de Tencin, sister of the Cardinal of that name, and of M. Destouches. He was exposed as soon as he was born, and was received by the wife of a glazier, who took care of him as if he had been her own son. M. Destouches, however, who had not lost sight of him, provided for his education, and secretly supplied the necessary means for his support. When he became celebrated for his talents and science, he was introduced into the world by the Marchioness du Deffant. M. de Tencin, who adored men of genius, wished to acknowledge him, but he refused her desire, saying that he owned no other mother than her who had taken care of his infancy. In fact, he always respected the poor glazier's wife as his mother, and continued to pay the greatest attention to her till she died. He became acquainted with de l'Espinasse at the Marchioness du Deffant's, who had taken her from the country as a companion. She was

a natural daughter of the Marquis du Deffant; and possessed such an agreeable disposition, that she contributed much to the pleasure of that lady's society; but having differed with her, d'Alembert espoused her quarrel; and both having taken apartments in the same house, they established an assembly of wits, which drew away a great part of those who frequented Madame du Deffant's.

This was properly the Temple in which False Philosophy pronounced its oracles. D'Alembert was the High Priest. Mademoiselle the Priestess, the Baron de Holbach, Diderot, Helvetius, and several others were the subalterns. There were some other houses in Paris, such as those of Madame Geoffrin, Madame Neckar, &c. where the wits of every sect and of every rank assembled: but these societies were subordinate to that just mentioned, and were regulated by its decisions. The Condorcets, Marmontels, and la Harpes, and an infinite number of subaltern wits, derived their existence and their reputation from this. Thither they went to draw their opinions and their belief, in order to diffuse them throughout those little spheres, of which they were themselves the suns. It was there that the productions of the times were examined, that patents of immortality were distributed to the Genius who showed submission to their judgments, and where the ruin of the untractable was decreed, conformably with the maxim religiously observed among them,

Et nul n'aura d'esprit, hors nous et nos amis.

Voltaire himself flattered them, and was well paid for his praise by the homage which they rendered to him. He became the Divinity to whom they burnt incense in the Temple. Never in any age or any country did any mania spread itself so quickly and so generally as the philosophical mania; and, to the disgrace of the Throne, some great Princes cringed to these fanatics and seemed to court their approbation. To merit this, it was not necessary to possess talents; it was sufficient TO LAUGH AT RELIGION AND GOVERNMENT, and to have no regard for rank, power, or authority. Those who were able to persecute, and did so, were placed among the number of the chosen. Madame du Deffant characterised them by the following lines,

On appelle aujourd'hui l'excessive licence liberté ;

On pretend établir à force d'insolence l'égalité,

Sans concourir au bien, proner la bienfaisance se nomme humanité.

D'Alembert, who was short and weak, was one day confounded by the repartee of a lady of great wit. He was warmly defending a state of nature, in order to establish his favourite system of equality. "M.