he regarded a sacred duty, and for the permanent benefit of society,
rather than with a view to any immediate results.'[5] The Bishop adds
further these details: 'He foresaw and predicted that his words would be
to the public ear what midnight storms are to men who sleep:

[5] 'Memoirs,' as before, vol. i. pp. 383, 399.

"I dropp'd my pen, and listen'd to the wind,
That sang of trees uptorn and vessels tost--
A midnight harmony, and wholly lost
To the general sense of men, by chains confined
Of business, care, or pleasure, or resign'd
To timely sleep. Thought I, the impassion'd strain,
Which without aid of numbers I sustain,
Like acceptation from the world will find.
Yet some with apprehensive ear shall drink
A dirge devoutly breath'd o'er sorrows past;
And to the attendant promise will give heed--
The prophecy--like that of this wild blast,
Which, while it makes the heart with, sadness shrink,
Tells also of bright calms that shall succeed."[6]

It is true that some few readers it had on its first appearance; and it
is recorded by an ear-witness that Canning said of this pamphlet that he
considered it the most eloquent production since the days of Burke;[7]
but, by some untoward delays in printing, it was not published till the
interest in the question under discussion had almost subsided. Certain
it is, that an edition, consisting only of five hundred copies, was not
sold off; that many copies were disposed of by the publishers as waste
paper, and went to the trunkmakers; and now there is scarcely any volume