the man of his people, is the greatest monarch on earth; but if he wishes to be somewhat more, by G- he is no longer any thing."Is it worth while, then, for a king of England to be the man of his people, since his merely being so will make him the greatest monarch on earth? Certainly, if there are any charms in monarchy.-Reges pro nobis, non nos pro regibus-Kings were made for us, not we for kings-is an axiom that stupidity itself must allow.-Hence, then, comes that art of ruling which, though galling to the pride of kings, is nevertheless gospel-that there is no absolute power but that of the laws-and that the king who establishes despotism, is himself but the slave of slaves.-By way of illustrating this point, let us see what is the character of a despot. Knox, in his history of Ceylon, thus describes its arbitrary prince, or rather pest-" He sheds a great deal of blood, and gives no reason for it; nor is he content to take away men's lives, but he puts them to long and lingering torments; for when he is displeased with any, he will

command to cut and pull away their flesh with pincers, and burn them with hot irons, to confess their accomplices; which, to rid themselves of the torments, they will readily do, and accuse many they never knew nor saw. Then he will order their hands to be tied about their necks, that they may eat their own flesh, and so lead them through the city to execution; the dogs, who are used to it, following them to devour their flesh. At the place of execution, which is always the largest highway, that all may see and stand in awe, there are always some sticking upon poles, others hanging up in quarters upon trees, besides what lie upon the ground, killed by elephants or otherwise. He hath a great many prisoners, whom he keeps in chains; some in gaol, others in the custody of great men, and for what, or how long, no man dare inquire. Some are allowed food, others not; and if they do any work to relieve their want, if he knows it he will not permit them; because, as he says, he puts them there to torment and punish them, and

not to work and be well maintained ;-yet this is connived at, and there are shops by the prisons to sell their wares. When the streets by the palace are to be swept, the prisoners, in their chains, are let out to do it. When they have been long in prison, at his pleasure, without any examination, they are led to execution; nor is his anger appeased by the death of the malefactor, but he oftentimes punishes all his generation : sometimes killing them all together, and sometimes giving them all away for slaves; and thus he usually deals with those whose children are his attendants; for, after they have been at court a while, and know his customs, he cuts off their heads, and puts them in their bellies, no man knowing for what crime. When. they are killed, they are styled rebels and traitors, and their fathers' houses, lands, and estates seized on for the king's use, which are sometimes redeemed by giving fees to the courtiers, but often the whole family and generation perish."-Such is the picture of an imbecile, a brutal and unenlightened

tyrant! Now which is the more appropriate appellation for this fiend-A prince of men, or a dog of dogs? Does this monster possess a shadow of the Divine attributes of the Supreme Power-justice and mercy? Nono-Are his subjects made after God's own image? No; they are disfigured by slavery, whose base insignia make them rather resemble Milton's fallen angels. Those naturalists are undoubtedly right who maintain that there is a gradation from man to beast, and throughout nature, of which every link of the chain is evident. The freeman is of an order as much superior to the slave, as the slave is to the ourang-outang.-Now for the picture of a conqueror! The ourang-outang of Ceylon, cruel as he is, has not dyed his hands in human blood a thousandth part as deep as the ourang-outang, which, issuing from the wilds of Corsica, has ravaged, and still continues to deluge the whole Continent of Europe with blood. Who could believe that the once generous, magnanimous, polished, and scientific French nation, after

having felt the invigorating and divine glow of freedom, would stoop their necks to a foreigner, an obscure adventurer, and the blood-thirstiest despot that ever scourged the world? To a monster who slaughtered thousands of disarmed and unresisting prisoners of war; who poisoned thousands of his own wounded soldiers, and buried thousands more with the dead, smothering them with quicklime to drown their groans, and get rid of them without trouble; who fled, like an arrant poltroon, from Egypt to France, leaving his brave, deluded followers in the extremity of danger and distress; who afterwards murdered Admiral Villeneuve and Marshal Brune, for not commanding, what Sir Sydney Smith had taught him that he himself could not command-success in war;-who would have wreaked his cowardly vengeance on Sir Sydney Smith, then a prisoner of war, if he had not eluded it by stratagem; and who actually did assassinate the brave Captain Wright, also a prisoner of war, whom it was his duty to have protected?-Who, we repeat, could have