violations of the law; which refused to examine the numerous petitions with which their table groaned; which sanctioned the use of the odious vermin of spies and suborners of treachery by the government, and the sending out of the opinion of the king's satellites as the law of the land; and which closed the ports of this hospitable kingdom on unhappy foreigners who were driven from their own country; does such a Parliament afford any evidence of the boasted freedom of the British constitution? The Chathams of the present day, the champions of liberty in the different political journals, inform us that government can at any time find a majority to enable them to suspend the Habeas Corpus; and the same authorities have concurred in the assertions (says Mr. Walsh in his late excellent work,) "that when the Habeas Corpus act was suspended, there was no difference between the government of Great Britain and the rule of the most despotic sovereign; that the power which a minister had of committing to prison on such occasions, was quite as great and as dangerous, as that of the Lettres de Cachet, so celebrated in the annals of France."

Sir Francis Wraxall has given convincing proofs of the influence of corruption in the House of Commons. Roberts, the secretary of the Treasury under Pelham, owned that a number of members received their payment in banknotes, at the end of the session. On the day of Prorogation, he stood in the Court of

Requests," and as the gentlemen passed me (he observed) I conveyed the money in a squeeze of the hand." Sir Francis says, that Lord North, when first minister, was supposed to command full 170 members at his absolute devotion, who were prepared to vote for him upon every question! In the "Memoirs of Prince Eugene," we learn the effects of certain" presents of Champaigne and Burgundy," made by Marshal Tallard to some of the right Honorable Members of Parliament!

The right to send members to Parliament arises generally from particular charters, granted in times of yore, to certain towns and counties, or from acts of Parliament. There are entire towns which have gradually grown to a considerable size, such as Manchester and Birmingham, which have not the right of return. ing a single member; whilst there are petty boroughs reduced, in some instances, to a single house, which still retain the privilege of sending two or three!

From the enormous expenses attending the elections, the candidate for Parliamentary honours is in the same predicament with the person who, according to ancient fable, was required to get possession of the golden bough, before he could be admitted to the privileges which the Sybil had to impart. Patriots must submit to the observance of this ceremony, before they can arrive at the awful seat of political mysteries

"Sed non ante datur telluris operta subire
Auricomos quam quis decerpserit arbore fœtus."

LETTER XLVIII.

Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys, and destiny obscure.

'Tis better to be lowly born,

GRAY'S Elegy

And range with humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistening grief,

And wear a golden sorrow. King Henry VIII.

THE character of the assembled multitude is very different from that of individual man; he therefore who wishes to study the human heart, should learn to unravel its intricate folds, by mixing with the people, and partaking of their diversions. Those classes of society which seem to bear the whole weight of the curse pronounced on our first parents, the labourers, the peasants, the artificers, have their moments of festivity as well as those who enjoy all the luxuries of nature and art; and their appetite for enjoyment is whetted by their frequent privations. The opulent Epicurean, whilst he gratifies every sense by the perfumes and luxuries of the East, may indulge the thought that this world was created for him to revel in its sweets; but amidst the roses which Pleasure strews on his path, "Repentance rears her snaky crest," and whilst languishingly stretched on the downy couch, the sword of Damocles hangs gleaming over his head. In my delightful journies to the south of France, I had an opportunity of drawing a parallel between the pure enjoyments of the labouring

classes, and the heartless pleasures of those who are so foolishly envied and admired. The poor peasantry, in that country, seem to possess the rare secret of allying happiness with privation, and to make amusement succeed to the labours of the day. After having passed the morning in the noble toils of agriculture, they return home with the anticipation of pleasure. The old men tell the adventures of their younger days to those around them, who reverence their gray hairs and their mature experience; whilst at a distance, on the "smooth shaven green," troops of blooming girls and young peasants dance to the pipe and tabor; and other groups sing airs as natural as the warblings of Philomel, and appear to sink into that delicious state of Elysian bliss, which falls upon their minds as calmly as the sleep of Heaven on their eyelids. During the winter, they assemble round the cheerful fire, and amuse themselves with their rustic games, regardless of the wind which wails and sighs through the casement, as if bemoaning beforehand, the disasters which it may cause in its fury.

The cottager, on whom the cheering face of Heaven smiles as he reaps the fruit of his own industry, enjoys his narrow circle of pleasures with a relish unknown to those into whose cup Flattery pours the honey of adulation, while the scorpions of conscience often turn it into poison, and render them unable to swallow the draught that is pressed to their lips. In that

beautiful romance, Zeluco, we find the following exquisite passage illustrating the estimate of happiness: "The grove overlooking the precipice has a fine effect at a distance; we admire the sublimity of its situation, and the brightness of its verdure, when gilded by the rays of the sun; we grudge no labour in scrambling up to this seat of pleasure, and when attained, we often find it cold and comfortless, overgrown with moss, pierced by the winds of every quarter, and far less genial than the sheltered bank from whence we set out."

In England, I never witnessed those rural amusements, dancing in the open fields and singing of simple airs, which make France a real Arcadia. The rich take care of their own morals-the police have an eye on those of the poor, who are not permitted to assemble for such sports in the parks, which are guarded as suspiciously as the Hesperian fruit. They are allowed to congregate in the public dancing rooms, which are admirable preparatory schools for the brothel! In those pleasure houses, you will find all the vices of polished society, with none of its redeeming virtues; you will there witness the moroseness, 66 saucy rudeness" and other traits of the English character-or, if there is the appearance of vivacity, it is the noisy brutal glee inspired by the spirituous draught.

The Bartholomew Fair is something like the fete of the Loges at St. Germain. Before it commences, the Lord Mayor proceeds in great