to tear asunder and separate the happy societies that once possessed those villages-what disputed succession-what religious rage has, with unholy violence, demolished those temples, and disturbed fervent, but unobtruding piety, in the exercise of its duties? What merciless enemy has thus spread the horrors of fire and sword what severe visitation of providence has dried up the fountain, and taken from the face of the earth every vestige of verdure? Or rather, what monsters have stalked over the country, tainting and poisoning, with pestiferous breath, what the voracious appetite could not devour? To such questions, what must be the answer? No wars have ravaged these lands and depopulated these villages—no civil discord has been felt-no disputed succession—no religious rage— no cruel enemy-no affliction of providence, which, while it scourged for the moment, cut off the sources of resuscitation-no voracious and poisoning monsters-no, all this has been accomplished by the friendship, generosity, and kindness, of the English nation.

They have embraced us with their protecting arms, and lo! those are the fruits of their alliance. What, then, shall we be told, that under such circumstances, the exasperated feelings of a whole people thus goaded and spurred on to clamor and resistance, were excited by the poor and feeble influence of the Begums? When we hear the description of the paroxysm, fever and delirium, into which despair had thrown the natives, when on the banks of the polluted Ganges, panting for death, they tore more widely open the lips of their gaping wounds, to accelerate their dissolution, and while their blood was issuing, presented their ghastly eyes to heaven, breathing their last and fervent prayer that the dry earth might not be suffered to drink their blood, but that it might rise up to the throne of God, and rouse the eternal Providence to avenge the wrongs of their country.

Will it be said that this was brought about by the incantations of these Begums in their secluded Zenana? or that they could inspire this enthusiasm and this despair into the breasts of a people who felt no grievance, and had suffered no torture? What motive, then, could have such influence in their bosoms? What motive? That which nature, the common parent, plants in the bosom of man, and

which, though it may be less active in the Indian than in the Englishman, is still congenial with and makes a part of his beingthat feeling which tells him, that man was never made to be the property of man; but that when through pride and insolence of power, one human creature dares to tyrannize over another, it is a power usurped, and resistance is a duty-that feeling which tells him that all power is delegated for the good, not for the injury of the people; and that when it is converted from the original purpose, the compact is broken, and the right is to be resumed—that principle which tells him that resistance to power usurped is not merely a duty which he owes to himself and to his neighbor, but a duty which he owes to his God, in asserting and maintaining the rank which he gave him in the creation! to that common God, who, where he gives the form of man, whatever may be the complexion, gives also the feelings and the rights of man· - that principle, which neither the rudeness of ignorance can stifle, nor the enervation of refinement extinguish! that principle which makes it base for a man to suffer wheu he ought to act: which, tending to preserve to the species the original designations of providence, spurns at the arrogant distinctions of man, and vindicates the independent qualities of his race.

SHERIDAN.

PANEGYRIC ON THE ELOQUENCE OF SHERIDAN.

HE has this day surprised the thousands who hung with rapture on his accents, by such an array of talents, such an exhibition of capacity, such a display of powers, as are unparalleled in the annals of oratory: a display that reflects the highest honor on himself -lustre upon letters- -renown upon parliament-glory upon the country. Of all species of rhetoric, of every kind of eloquence that has been witnessed or recorded, either in ancient or modern times; whatever the acuteness of the bar, the dignity of the senate, the solidity of the judgment seat, and the sacred morality of the

pulpits have hitherto furnished: nothing has equalled what we have this day heard in Westminster hall. No holy seer of religion, no statesman, no orator, no man of any literary description whatever, has come up, in the one instance, to the pure sentiments of morality, or, in the other, to that variety of knowledge, force of imagination, propriety and vivacity of allusion, beauty and elegance of diction, strength and copiousness of style, pathos and sublimity of conception, to which we, this day, listened with ardor and admiration. From poetry up to eloquence, there is not a species of composition of which a complete and perfect specimen might not, from that single speech, be culled and collected.

BURKE.

ON THE STATE OF THE NATION, 1795.

My design has been not to induce the discussion of what has already been discussed, but to inquire into the conduct of the war in general. It is perfectly consistent in gentlemen on the other side of the house, to say they do not wish an inquiry; an inquiry is likely to influence the opinion of the house upon the conduct of ministers; and an address to the throne for their removal will be the probable result. But, rather than they shall lose their places, is the country to be lost? A hint has been insinuated, that if the minister and his associates were dismissed, neither his majesty nor the public will look to the supporters of the present motion for their assistance. Were the war to be carried on, even by more able ministers, upon the same principles hitherto avowed, and for the same object, there is nothing his majesty could offer to me-nothing that any prince in Europe could offer to me- -that could induce me to take any share in it.

I

With respect to the motion being mistimed, my side of the house has not been negligent in bringing forward questions upon war. deny having introduced the present motion on account of affairs in Ireland, and appeal to the time in which notice of it was given, in

proof of the assertion; but I think a full investigation of that business of great importance. The cabinet certainly interfere in the affairs of this country, and I wish to know upon what principle it should do so, more than the parliament of this country? I have been told that I endanger Ireland by such an inquiry; but I wish to know who most endangers it—I, who respect both that country and this, as much as any man in this house, or those who conduct themselves as if they had no regard to the interest of either, when in competition with their own power?

The right honorable gentleman says that my conduct, if not counteracted, tends to lower the dignity of this country. That a man who has himself so lowered the dignity of this country, who has brought it to the verge of ruin by the obstinacy and madness of his conduct, should presume to think that any man else could lower it more than he has, is, I own, rather extraordinary. I desire to know, and I ask the minister to inform me, if he can—I ask any man in this house to inform me- when it was that I endeavored to lower the dignity of this country? I allude to the present war —what has been my conduct, and what did I advise this house upon that subject? I would have offered reasonable terms to France before the war commenced; and for that purpose I proposed a negociation: he affected to disdain it. What has been the event? Will even he himself attempt to say that there is a chance of making as good a peace now as there was then? Does he even hope he can ever negociate with the French in a situation less dishonorable to us than the present? I would have negociated with them before a fight. He must negociate after a fight, and after a defeat too, if he negotiates at all. I would have negotiated with them while we were rich in our rescources, and our commerce entire. He must negotiate when both are desperately impaired. I would have negotiated before our allies were defeated, and while they were yet supposed to be in union. He must negotiate after victory has declared in favor of the enemy, and the allies have been deserting us, and abandoning one another. After this, that such a man could possibly suppose that he is supporting the dignity of the country, and that he should put himself on a footing with any gentleman who has not

the misfortune to be in the present administration, is an extraordinary thing; but it is an assumption of merit which is peculiar to his majesty's present council. In the mean time it is with heart-felt satisfaction, I reflect, that in everything I ever proposed, I have supported the dignity of this country; I regard it as a circumstance of good fortune to me, that I never gave an opinion by which one drop of British blood was shed, or any of its treasure squandered. The right honorable gentleman has insinuated, that neither I nor those with whom I act, ever mention the glory of the British arms. The fact is notoriously otherwise, we have been proud to praise them. Is it endurable, then, to hear a inan accuse others of endeavoring to lower the dignity of this country, when we are doing all we can to save it; and are calling for an inquiry into the conduct of that man who has brought us to the last stake, with which we are now contending for our existence? And shall it be still a question, who is the best friend of the honor of Great Britain? But I wish again to ask, if this committee be not granted, what am I to say to my constituents if they ask—who are the allies of this country— what is our relative situation with Prussia-what with the emperor -what has been the conduct of administration with regard to the war-what is the situation of Ireland? To all these questions I can only answer, I cannot tell you any of these things. The house of commons would not grant me an inquiry; they went hand in hand with the minister.

Fox.

ON THE AGE OF REASON.

THIS publication appears to me to be as cruel and mischievous in its effects, as it is manifestly illegal in its principles; because it strikes at the best-sometimes, alas! the only refuge and consolation amidst the distresses and afflictions of the world. The poor and humble, whom it affects to pity, may be stabbed to the heart by it-THEY have more occasion for firm hopes beyond the grave, than the rich and prosperous, who have other comforts to render