fore he ventures to pick up the bone he finds lying among the snow. They mildly remonstrated with the Tories on the inexpediency of some of their ways; disclaiming, at the same time, with hysterical vehemence, all connexion with the naughty men who had frightened the said Tories. They uplifted their mouths, and thanked God, that they were not as Godwin, neither contaminated with the heresies of Bentham. They were a race of political academists; touching with gentle hand the sore parts of either party, and elegantly and playfully hinting at a remedy; but not particularly sanguine in their expectations that the world would follow their prescriptions, and not much caring whether it did or not. They were like "La Belle Hamilton" at the court of Charles II.,-possessed of sufficient self-command to keep her own person pure, but not of nice enough feelings to be annoyed by the uncloaked debauchery of those who surrounded her. They held the even tenor of their way, more gratified by the consciousness of their own goodness, than pained by the naughtiness of the rest of the world.

The political condition of Scotland, previous to the passing of the Reform Act, was well calculated to keep them in this state of political nonage. They were placed in a region where the voice of the people was never heard in any consultation regarding the business of the state. Like certain gentlemen in Milton's Scotland-Pandemonium we mean— they apart sate on a hill retired, and reasoned high," of matters in which the constitution of their country permitted them to take no active share. The nearest approach allowed them to taking a part in the tug of war, was the delivery of beautiful set speeches at political din. ners, and those solemn meetings, heralds of parliamentary petitions, where the orators have it," like the bull in the china shop, all their own way." They could not exactly be called unversed in the real business of life; for most of them, as before hinted, are lawyers; but politics were" of their lives a thing apart," a beautiful imagination not linked with sordid realities; and the only debates tending to practical result in which they mingled, were those of a Court where every step is prescribed by law, not of those more stirring, character-forming assemblies where the laws themselves are made. Every thing tended to keep the leaders, the lights of the party, theoretical, not practical statesmen ; persons to whom it was free to float at will on a sea of doubts, indulging in nice distinctions; men untrained to promptitude in decision, and perseverance in action. Such of them as meddled with local politics, ex.. perienced the truth of the old proverb respecting the handling of pitch.

This ripeness of judgment, and want of experience, have conjoined with the provincial locality of the Edinburgh Whigs, to stamp the respectable portion of them with a very peculiar character. Without belonging to that class, which, looking more deeply into the workings of sooiety than the busy multitude, elaborate, in quiet cells, the political and moral creeds of coming generations; their views are eminently unpractical. They are called upon to take a share in the active management of a machine which they have hitherto contemplated only from a distance. They are conscious of their want of mechanical skill and readiness, and consequently timid. At the same time, they have been too long the oracles of their little circle, to have failed to acquire, not exactly a confidence in their own judgment, but a comparatively greater distrust in every other person's. Anxious and hesitating when called to action, they are supercilious and immovable in argument. They will neither stir themselves, nor allow others to push them on. They disapprove of the system upon which the Government of this country has

hitherto been conducted, and, if you give them time, will take it into their consideration whether a better may not be devised; but if you hint that there is no time left-that the wolf is at the door; and still more, if you venture to hint at what they ought to do, they turn away with a cold smile of conscious superiority. They are too ineffably above you, even to be moved by your presumption.

This has been their line of conduct ever since the Duke of Wellington's dismissal. They were averse to petitioning at first-"Let us wait and see what ministers will do." When forced into a demonstration, they took care that the petition of Edinburgh should be such as might be amply granted by the narrowest, the most illusory reform-" For any sake, avoid all details: they are rocks upon which we cannot fail to split." The struggle grew keener and closer; it was evidently the death-grapple. A bolder demonstration was called for. With timorous deprecatory remonstrances, they acquiesced in an open air meeting. Earl Grey resigned. The whole of the rest of the nation boldly pointed to the last resource; but our Edinburgh Whigs shrunk from the slightest allusion to the stopping of the supplies, as if the shade of Castlereagh stood frowning before them. It was only after the most urgent and reiterated prayers, and under the threat of a counter-motion, that they nerved themselves to stand firm by the L.10 qualification. They were willing to have conceded that essential point "as one of the details." During the whole of the canvass which preceded the late elections, they evaded the questions of short parliaments and the ballot. To the former we know them to be unfriendly; respecting the latter, they have uniformly said, "Let us see whether it be necessary?" Its necessity has been experimentally established. The most unwarrantable acts of bribery and oppression are proved to have been resorted to by the Conservatives; and Sir John Dalrymple mildly tells them, that "if they persist,” he may " incline to favour the ballot." Maria Darlington's "Very naughty man," addressed to her seemingly faithless spouse, was not a more disproportionate rebuke. All the time that they are thus turning a deaf ear to the urgency of the people, they are coaxing the Tories to kiss and be friends. "Now that the struggle is over, let all harsher feelings be forgotten." Oh yes! We have won at the game of "Change seats, the king's coming;" let us now join with the losers to bar the door against the intrusion of too many new guests.

Some people think there is dishonesty in all this. They are mistaken. The Scottish Whigs persist in keeping up every sinecure appointment; they refuse to hear of further reforms; they strive to keep on good terms with the Tories: it is all weakness and ignorance of the worldno positively dishonest purpose. Raw from their studies, they tremble to lay a reforming finger upon the delicate machine intrusted to their care, least it should crumble in their grasp. Conceited of their own superior acquirements; believing that all are in utter ignorance except their old corrupt opponents, themselves and their toadies, they doggedly refuse to hear of any person undertaking what they fear to attempt. They are like a physician who would consult all his authorities by the bed-side of an apoplectic patient; carefully collating every passage with the symptoms of the dying man, before he attempted to re lieve him. They feel not themselves the grinding of that penury which redundant taxation, and a clumsy, cumbrous system of executive government have brought upon the working classes; and they believe every man who speaks from feeling an unsafe counsellor. He is excited, and cannot reflect coolly. It is as though they should address a friend,

"My good fellow, you must allow that you, who have a goad of red-hot iron sticking in your breech, cannot reason so coolly on the matter as we who are free from all such appliances and means to boot. It is absurd in you to deafen us with your cries to pull it out before we have time to come to the conclusion that such is the most eligible mode of procedure."

This is not dishonesty but it is every whit as dangerous. You may force a rogue to act right by pointing to the gibbet: but pragmatical council walks with closed eyes over the precipice. Again, it engenders public distrust. Public men must be judged by their public actions: few have access, and fewer leisure, to study their ruling motives, and to learn to pardon them for their good intentions. That people with which they disdain to form a nearer intimacy, will soon grow disgusted with them. They will bear the blame of all the ill they occasion, which is fair; but they will also be accused of having willed it, which is hard; for they have kind hearts and high aspirations.

If they persist in their besotted obstinacy, they will form a drag-chain of imposing strength on the motions of government. Let us see: There are in the present parliament Jeffrey, Murray, and Macaulay,—tongues of the trump. Then there is Lord Dalmeny, an ingenuous diffident boy, who will do as they bid him ;* and Sir John Dalrymple, a good man and true, though somewhat priggish, whom they will manage by making him believe that he follows his own inclinations. There are Ferguson of Raith, (one of themselves,) Admiral Fleming, Lord Ormelie, and Stewart Mackenzie, as honest and well-meaning men as breathe, whose gentlemanly feeling will guard them against the blandishments of the Tories, and who will be kept from the approach of the people by the jealous and plausible arts of the Coterie. How many more of our Scottish members are in their toils, we cannot precisely say; but even this is a tolerable nucleus of a party in the House of Commons, to stick to the Lord Chancellor through thick and thin, and " do his spiriting gently." With this tail wagging behind him, in its tremulous pride, Lord Brougham will be more likely to put on his peremptors in the Cabinet. He has been from youth a man more of brilliant, comprehensive, and restless, than of solid parts. In the Speculative Society he was one of those whose boldness was mainly instrumental in calling down the indignation of the big-wigs; and again, he was the one who most overlaid the character of conformity he was called upon to assume. Such has he been through life. His ambition is great, his conceptions noble, his activity sleepless : but his power wants continuity of application. He puts on too much at one time, and too little at another. Forming bold ideas, and acting upon them with a startling rapidity at one moment, he seeks the next to tread the perplexed paths of intrigue with the noiselsss footstep of the courtier. One day he beards his enemies with fierce denunciations; and then for a week he is all conciliation, "the torrent's smoothness ere it dash below." For a week he is the oil spread over the vexed billows of the House of Lords, to restore the glassy surface of that once waveless aristocratic ocean; and at the end of it, he breaks out into a Herculean

This article was written before the occasion when Lord Dalmeny laid aside the character of the diffident and pliable boy, to assume, (we hope for life,) the character of manly independence. His vote with the minority, on Mr. Hume's motion for the Abolition of Naval and Military Sinecures, has given us great hopes, that Lord Dalmeny is no commonplace person. His dissenting from his Whig friends in so marked an instance, shews moral courage, at least, and independence of party.

frenzy, seizes poor Sugden, as his prototype did Hylas, and hurls him far away beyond human ken; or rather, by a more cruel metamorphosis than any in Ovid, he, before our eyes, transmutes a man into a bug. Such a creature of momentary and varying impulses-over-bold the one moment, dangerously timid the next-followed, as he is likely to be, by a numerous and talented body of personal adherents, is a questionable coadjutor for a government, which, more than any we have known, requires to temper boldness with caution, which must feel its way at every footstep, yet dare not loiter for a moment, or withdraw one hair's breadth after it has advanced.*

Earl Grey will do well to look to the motions of this party, which, by its bigoted scepticism, and its coquetry with the old aristocratical and priestly faction, may interfere materially with the stately march of his own straight-forward policy. The nation will do well to look sharply after men who may not dare to be just to it. The party itself will do well to scrutinize its own character, and examine the nature of the hold it has upon the country. Our objurgation has not been uttered in anger. Personally, we love and esteem many of its members, however much we may distrust them in their corporate capacity. "We neither seek nor shun their favour nor their feud." Let them remember that they are new to office; and not rooted in that genial soil. Let them remember that the national spirit has been excited by real wrongs, not abstract theories; and that men of action are what we now want. Let them remember, that they have hitherto kept themselves immured within the Bastile of their own domestic circles, and do not know the people. Even with our wealthier citizens, their intercourse has had a tone of distance and condescension. The ten-pound voters were a race altogether new to them; and there are myriads behind of whom they know nothing,men of clear heads and quick feelings. Above all, let them remember how feeble is their real influence. Their ill-omened patronage mainly contributed to lose Mr. Crawfurd his election for Glasgow, and their opposition had almost re-established Mr. Johnstone in the Stirling burghs. They are taken on trial: let them beware lest they be weighed in the balance and found wanting.

We know that these are unpalatable truths, and we know the love generally born towards those who administer such nauseous mixtures. Nay more, we know that many worthy and independent men will blame us for hallooing before the hounds are out of the wood. It is indeed an unthankful office to keep men to their duty by hinting our suspicions of them. We are likely to be regarded as pragmatical coxcombs at the

Though we cannot subscribe to the above estimate of the character of Lord Brougham, we conceive it right to let it go forth. The public press never performs a more useful office, than letting those men whose characters, from the station in affairs which they have achieved, are likely to influence the destinies of nations, freely hear, while it is time, what is thought of them by the people at large, and especially by kindred minds,-the men of the future time, who are pressing forward in the same career that they have run. It is clear that in many quarters doubts are arising about the Lord Chancellor which we refuse to entertain, and notice with regret. He has been thrown somewhat off his balance, and is hurried and dizzied of late; but he will right and settle down. He will look back upon his past course; and considerately ponder the steps by which he has advanced, and the nature of that steady, irresistible current which has borne him onward. He will not permit himself either to be drifted back, or whirled with the chaff and straws into the eddy. He is not a man of petty aims, nor of mean, purblind ambition. The page of history lies open before him. If we shall ever be constrained to doubt his political morale, even then, we should fall back upon his intellect. A dishonest Statesman was always a knave, but in the 19th century he must be a fool also. E. T. M.

time, and abused afterwards for our distrust; although, perhaps, it was our plain speaking alone which prevented what we foresaw from taking place. Our moan however is soon made. We have already established a sufficiently good understanding with our readers to entitle us to haz ard the risk of incurring one harsh opinion at their hands, if there is any good object to be gained by it; and seeing that we are more anxious to live jolly members of a peaceful and happy community than to gain credit for prophetic powers, or to ride cock-a-hoop on the broad back of popular applause, we have ventured to strew our pearls before—a respected public.

A VISION OF THE GRAVE.

IT was a night of shine and shade!
The forest grimly frown'd,
While whist and wild the moonbeams play'd
On the old castle mound!-
No breath the silent alders stirr'd,
Nor insect wing, nor wakeful bird,

Disturbed the stillness round ;-
Nature seem'd slumbering there, and smiling
At the soft dreams her rest beguiling.

The flocks, a white unbroken mass,
Crouch'd 'neath the hedgerows lay;
All printless shone the dewy grass,—
Voiceless the woodland way;-
It was a fearful thing to tread
A spot so calm, so lone, so dead,
Yet clear and bright as day;

A spot such as the world of spirits
In all its ghastly pride inherits.

I trode the mead,-I clamb the hill,-
I div'd into the dew;

And, fearless grown, stood calm and still
Beneath the churchyard yew!

The steeple-shadow, long and black,
Like an unhallow'd demon-track,
Its withering shadow threw

O'er the white gravestones!-landmarks,

telling

The precincts of Death's hideous dwelling!

I listen'd!-Was my soul deceiv'd?
A hoarse and hollow sound,
Like distant voices interweav'd,

Was murmuring from the ground!
And, lo! I heard, in doubt and dread,
The dead commercing with the dead
In every grave around!

The dead! with sightless eyeballs waking
The dead! their stony silence breaking

Some breath'd the words of ages gone,
Some those of yesterday;
A human freshness mark'd the tone
From lips of new-made clay.
But grim and ghastly seem'd to rise
Voices of other centuries,

Of breath long past away;-
Like spring-tides, chafing in commotion,
Of some far-off, mysterious ocean!

I heard the child's soft prattlings flow,
The babe's still feebler cry;
The coffin'd mother, breathing low
Her dirge-like lullaby;

The crabbed old philosopher
Mumbled his musty adage there

In dull monotony ;

The mouldering miser's moan recorded
His bootless thrift, and labours sordid!

Some curs'd the wars of feudal strife,
Some the black bitter tears of life,
Wherein their blood was shed;

That soak the poor man's bread;
Some rattling, rais'd a bony hand
That once dealt terror round the land,

Ere Law her phalanx led

To bruise the serpent s head with ruin,-
The power of Might, with Right subduing!
There lay the atheist, stark and cold,
Blaspheming in his shroud;
The scorner, gibbering as of old,

The wanton groaning loud;
The wretch, of crimes still unconfest,
There gnashed his teeth and tore a breast
Where gnawing earthworms crowd :—
Some vainly call'd upon the living,
Reviling some, and some forgiving!

But soon, in fearful chorus blent,
Came the accusing cry,
"Ye liv'd a life of vain intent,-
Of selfish apathy!-

Ye heard the injur'd ask redress,
And smiled, while tears of bitterness
Seared many a human eye;-
Wedded to trivial cares and pleasures,
Ye fed your lusts or heap'd your treasures!"

It ceased!-wild-wild the shriek that burst
From an emblazon'd grave,
Wherein, of God and man accurst,

Lay one who, born to save-
With giant arm and giant mind-
His native land, the trust resigned;
And grew an abject slave

To his own sensual joys-unheeding
Millions in galling fetters bleeding!

Blest be that cry!-it broke the spell!
With one strange shuddering moan
These murmurings grew inaudible

Beneath each tablet stone!
Like other dwellings of the dead,
Unearthly stillness round it shed
A calmness dim and lone ;-

Nothing was there but the moonbeam's bright