freshness and juvenility in his mind, which had raised him still higher in my opinion. He might have been taken for a person newly entering into the scenes of life, so cheerful, so pleased, and so very much alive to the most minute objects in nature as he was. At times, however, the grandeur and extent of his genius shewed itself. There was perfect dignity, too, in his manner, united to the greatest simplicity. During our whole subsequent tour, he preserved this kind of demeanor and manners-add to which a solicitude that every one with him should be happy, should enjoy, and not lose any thing interesting, beautiful, or curious.

CHAPTER ILI.

AS the packet passed through the glittering waves with a brisk and easy motion, my mind was suspended as it were between various sensations and ideas. We had left the proud coast of Albion to visit the regenerated kingdom of France. The long enjoyed power of the

Bourbons had vanished before the irresistible course of events. We were about to exchange our imaginations and opinions for certain ideas; we were to judge for ourselves; and, disencumbering our minds of the false impression unavoidably made on those distant from the theatre of a great revolution, we were to be enabled to form a just opinion of effects, and to examine and analyse causes, in the political or moral sphere of men, or, as I may now express it, imperial France. The awful consideration of the torrents of blood which had been shed-the comparison between such horror, and the tranquil calm which England had enjoyed the recollection of empires overthrown, and of the immutability of civil and religious rights the doubt whether the miseries of a revolution were compensated by a beneficial change in government -the confused conjecture what the future peace relations between the two nations would be-and a lively curiosity to behold Paris, the seat of a new government, and the

novel order of things, pressed on the imagination, and hurried us in anxious anticipation towards the shore. The character of the warrior and statesman, who had been placed, by the force of his own genius, fortuitous circumstances, and the wishes of an harassed people, in the seat of supreme power, was also in itself a strong stimulous to our curiosity.

There is a natural desire in all men to view a celebrated person whose exploits have crowned him with glory. One wishes to examine the form and countenance, to hear the voice, and observe the manner of such a man; and as we eagerly search amongst the remnants of antiquities, for any outline, medal, bust, or any other demonstration of the features or appearance of a great genius, so we have a craving wish to contemplate a living character standing high in the temple of Fame. It is a just and natural feeling, and is, as it were, a tribute to one of our own species, endowed with eminent and extraordinary qualities, that we cannot withhold, unless envy blinds, and malice hardens us.

I do not say that such was Mr. Fox's feelings respecting Bonaparte raised himself, as I think, upon a greater eminence, he could not, as I did, look with the same astonishment at the stupendous character of that great man; but he could not be devoid of a desire, common to us all, of seeing and hearing one of the most eminent persons of the age. He to whom the histories of Greece and Rome were so familiar, looked with a philosophic eye upon his exaltation, and considered it as a natural and unavoidable consequence, of the military cast assumed by the French nation, and of the preponderance of its armies. I imagine, however, that there must be a certain sort of sympathy between men of unbounded genius, who, though their pursuits have been different, and their countries at times adverse and hostile, pay to one another the mutual homage of a kind of complacent respect and deference.

As these various ideas passed through my mind, the ves sel glided along,➡

αμφι δε κύμα

Στειρη πορφύρεον μεγαλ' ιαχε, νέος ιεσης

and, after a passage of about three hours, we entered the harbour of Calais. The quay was crowded with spectators, anxious to see the great ornament of England, her most powerful orator, and her almost prophetic statesman. We landed amidst the crowd, and passed to the well known inn at Calais, then extremely well kept by Killiac. I found myself in a new world; the language, the physiognomy, the manners, all different from those of the country I had left; and I could not but perceive a superiority in the latter respect to a considerable degree. The municipal officers of Calais very speedily waited on Mr. Fox, paying him every attention, and expressing a wish to entertain him, which he politely declined, on account of his desire to proceed the following morning, without delay.

An incident occurred at Calais, which, as it excited much remark, and roused a good deal of censure at the time, I shall advert to more at length than would otherwise be necessary. It happened that Mr. Arthur O'Connor had arrived at the inn at which we stopped very shortly before. He waited on Mr. Fox, was received by him with that urbanity and openness which distinguished him, and was invited to dinner by him, which invitation he accepted of. I had never seen this gentleman before. It is well known that, after a long confinement at Fort George, he, and some other Irish gentlemen, had agreed with the Irish government to expatriate themselves for life. Mr. O'Connor was now on his way to Paris accordingly; when chance brought him to Killiac's inn, at the same time with Mr. Fox. His manners were extremely pleasing; and, without entering into any discussion of Irish politics, in the unhappy times in Ireland preceding

and following the year 1798, I may risk the assertion, that, as an Irish gentleman, and an unfortunate exile, (and all who are compelled to leave their country are unfortunate,) he was entitled to politeness, humanity, and even commiseration. Perfectly unconnected with government, and travelling as any other English gentleman of noble birth, Mr. Fox found no difficulty in receiving this gentleman, (whom he had known before he was so deeply implicated in Irish politics,) with a friendly and consoling welcome. Mr. O'Connor dined with us; and I, for one, was much pleased with his deportment and appearance, though I could not become, in a manner, a convert to his arguments, to prove that his party had not attempted, or desired, to rouse the physical strength of his country to effect a change in Ireland.

We all went to the theatre in the evening, which, if painted and cleaned, would have appeared agreeably enough. We afterwards saw Mr. O'Connor (who remained some time at Calais after us,) two or three times at Paris. I should not have dwelt upon this little incident in the commencement of the tour, but, as prejudice in some, and malignity in others, magnified it into a most improper communication with a traitorous or rebellious subject, at the time it occurred; and, as the character of Mr. Fox must always be of consequence to the public, I have judged it incumbent on me to state the facts in all their simplicity and truth, as an antidote to the calumny.

It would have been quite unsuitable to the grandeur and purity of Mr Fox's character, to have taken any little precautions for avoiding what might give party malice a handle. Certainly, he would not have sought Mr. O'Connor, under those delicate circumstances; but when, in the warmth of the moment, he came to Mr. Fox's apartments, it would have evinced a consciousness of liability to blame, or a timidity of mind, to have shrunk from the visit, or