dered famous in the records of political warfare by his humorous and most biting comments on the phrase "domestic enemies," employed by his opponent Sir Alan Gardner,—and his short occupation of a seat in the House of Commons for Old Sarum, an honour from the re-possession of which he was precluded, as is well known, by all the warlike formality of an act of parliament, which was levelled solely at him though it did not mention his name. During the short period of his privilege he was distinguished by the moderation, as much as by the good sense, of his speeches. And indeed, though in his addresses to the people at the Westminster election, and in the printed address in which, after being debarred any further admittance into the sanctuary at St. Stephen's, he seemed to fling that high honour with bitter scorn in the teeth of those who had decreed him incapable of it, there appears not the smallest diminution of the accustomed invective boldness, our author affirms that his trial had the effect of permanently modifying his language.

The latter half of the second volume is a very entertaining miscellany. There is a rather long series of brief notices of distinguished men, of various ranks, accomplishments, and professions, who held an acquaintance, more or less intimate, with Mr. Horne Tooke. It contains some curious anecdotes : but none, perhaps, more curious than the ugly one of Professor Porson's threatening, at Tooke's own table, to "kick him and cuff him," and Tooke's insisting on their fighting out their quarrel in a "couple of quarts" of brandy, a kind of duel sufficiently to the Professor's taste, but which soon laid him senseless on the floor.

"On which the victor at this new species of Olympic game, taking hold of his antagonist's limbs in succession, exclaimed, This is the foot that was to have kicked, and the hand that was to have cuffed me!' and then drinking one glass more, to the speedy recovery of his prostrate advesary, ordered, that great care should be taken of Mr. Professor Porson; after which he withdrew to the adjacent apartment, in which tea and coffee had been prepared, with the same seeming calmness as if nothing had occurred."

A number of the particulars in the philosopher's domestic arrangements are strongly illustrative of what was peculiar in his character, while the details concerning the painful diseases which oppressed him severely during many of his latter years, give the highest possible idea of that most extraordinary

strength of mind which would maintain in spite of them an animated and generally cheerful temper.

Horne Tooke was unquestionably one of the half dozen best talkers of his age; but Mr. Stephens was a very inferior Boswell; though he has given a few tolerably good things from the notes which he says he was several years in the habit of making of conversations in which he heard Horne Tooke display himself. It is not so much, however, the smart or fine sayings that he seems to have recorded, as his grave opinions on questions, books, and men. Judgments are pronounced on several distinguished writers of this and other countries; brief notices are recorded of discussions or dictates on points of literature, politics, law, history, agriculture, and a still wider extent of subjects, on which it would have been highly interesting and improving to hear this powerful thinker exert his acuteness and display his knowledge. A number of these fragments and relics retain a measure of the luminous appearance which we can well believe to have been very striking in the complete original exhibition.

If in conversation Horne was oftener allowed to dictate than compelled to argue, it was not his fault, as no man ever more promptly welcomed a challenge to debate; and the more pow erful his opponent, the more he was gratified. He had a constitutional courage hardly ever surpassed, a perfect command of his temper, all the warlike furniture and efficiency of prompt and extreme acuteness, satiric wit in all its kinds and degrees, from gay banter to the most deadly mordacity, and all this sustained by inexhaustible knowledge, and indefinitely reinforced, as his life advanced, by victorious exertion in many trying situations. Such a man would be made a despot whether he would or not, by the obsequiousness of those who were either by choice or necessity placed in his immediate sphere; and it would depend on his temper whether he would be a tyrant.

He had a manner, it seems-a Sultanic look—which could instantly impose the silence of death if he willed any matter of inquiry to be made an end of. There is one instance of this which appears somewhat mysterious and somewhat foolish. The conversation had been about Junius. He had laughed at some of the claims to the honour of being that personage:

"One of the company now asked if he knew the author. On the ques tion being put, he immediately crossed his knife and fork on his plate, and

assuming a stern look, replied 'I do! His manner, tone, and attitude were all too formidable to admit of any further interrogatories."

We are at a loss to conceive what there could be in the question to bring up all this majesty, and it seems rather a pitiable pusillanimity that durst not say one word to maintain the innocence of asking it, and even following it up with a second.

Mr. Stephens allows that, notwithstanding his hero's zealous habitual love of truth, he would sometimes, in disregard of it, fight for mere victory; a very superfluous expense of ammunition, it may be thought, to give it no worse character, in a man whose actual belief and unbelief included so many things to be maintained in hostility to prevailing opinions. A worse thing, however, than the folly of the practice was its immorality; and yet it is this, we presume, that the biographer means to extenuate by adding, as if it were an unquestionable proposition, this most thoughtless solecism,-"the ablest and BEST of men frequently fight, like gladiators, for fame, without troubling themselves much as to the justice of the cause."

It would be but impertinent, however, to affect to call such a character as that of John Horne Tooke to account for this or the other particular culpability. It would be something like attending to criticize the transactions of a Pagan temple, and excepting to one rite as ungraceful, perhaps, and to another practice as irreverent; like as if the substance of the service were of a quality to deserve that its particular parts should be corrected. His whole moral constitution was unsound, from the exclusion, as far as can be judged from this work, or as there are any other means of judging, of all respect to a future account, to be given to the Supreme Governor. Towards the conclusion of his life, he made calm and frequent references to his death, but not a word is here recorded expressive of anticipations beyond it. The unavoidable inference from the whole of these melancholy memorials is, that he reckoned on the impunity of eternal sleep. Not, however, that he was willing to acknowledge any obligations to that protective economy; for he is known to have insisted, in a tone of the utmost confidence, in a very serious conversation not very long before his death, that if there should be a future life and retribution, he, of all men, had no reason to be afraid of it, for that he had even greater merit than could be required for his acquittal before a just Judge. The grand rule of moral excellence, even

according to the gospel, he observed, was, to do to others as we would they should do to us; but he had gone much beyond this.

From Mr. Stephens's record it would not appear that he would very often formally and gravely talk on religion, though he would advert to it in the incidental way of satire and swearing. One particular conversation is alluded to in which his opinions were more disclosed than on any other remembered occasion. But with the nature of these avowed opinions the readers were not to be entrusted, further than some trifling hints, by implication, that he was not a polytheist!-In one conversation, not long before his death, he enlarged on the divine goodness, as manifest in the constitution of the world, and as having been amply experienced by himself. He maintained a wonderful serenity, a very signally philosophic tone, amidst his complicated and often oppressive bodily sufferings. At one time, however, it appears he consented to live only in compliance with the entreaties of his friends, having, as it seems, determined to withdraw himself from the burden by declining all sustenance.

He advanced to the close of his life with a self-complacent mixture of pride and gayety. A thoughtful religious reader will accompany him with a sentiment of deep melancholy, to behold so keen, and strong, and perverted a spirit, triumphant in its own delusions, fearlessly passing into the unknown world.

In closing this article, and wishing we knew how to apologize for its unpardonable prolixity, we are bound to repeat that, as a political man, we think it evident that Horne has experienced the utmost degree of injustice; that his speculations and projects were moderate, that they uniformly aimed at the public good, that they were maintained with a consistency which put most of his distinguished contemporaries to shame, and that this very same inflexible consistency was a principal cause of the opprobrium with which time-serving politicians loaded him, in their own defence.

III.

COLERIDGE'S FRIEND.

The Friend; a Literary, Moral, and Political Weekly Paper, excluding personal and party politics, and the events of the day. Conducted by S. T. COLERIDGE.

It was with no small pleasure we saw any thing announced of the nature of a proof or pledge that the author of this paper was in good faith employing himself, or about to employ himself, in the intellectual public service. His contributions to that service have, hitherto, borne but a small proportion to the reputation he has long enjoyed of being qualified for it in an extraordinary degree. This reputation is less founded on a small volume of juvenile poems, and some occasional essays in periodical publications, than on the estimate formed and avowed by all the intelligent persons that have ever had the gratification of falling into his society.

After his return, several years since, from a residence of considerable duration in the Southeast of Europe, in the highest maturity of a mind, which had, previously to that residence, been enriched with large acquisitions of the most diversified literature and scientific knowledge, and by various views of society both in England and on the continent; his friends promised themselves, that the action of so much genius, so long a time, on such ample materials, would at length result in some production, or train of productions, that should pay off some portion of the debt due to the literary republic, from one of the most opulent of its citizens. A rather long period, however, had elapsed, and several projects had been reported in the usual vehicles of literary intelligence, before this paper was undertaken. An idea of the mental habits and acquirements brought to its execution, will be conveyed by an extract from the prospectus, which was written in the form of a letter to a friend.