a sceptered hermit, wrapped in the solitude of his own originality. A mind,
bold, independent, and decisive,--a will, despotic in its dictates,--an
energy that distanced expedition, and a conscience pliable to every touch
of interest, marked the outline of this extraordinary character,--the most
extraordinary, perhaps, that in the annals of this world ever rose, or
reigned, or fell. Flung into life in the midst of a revolution that
quickened every energy of a people who acknowledge no superior, he
commenced his course, a stranger by birth, and a scholar by charity! With
no friend but his sword, and no fortune but his talents, he rushed into the
list where rank, and wealth, and genius had arrayed themselves, and
competition fell from him as from the glance of destiny. He knew no motive
but interest,--he acknowledged no criterion but success,--he worshiped no
God but ambition, and with an eastern devotion he knelt at the shrine of
his idolatry. Subsidiary to this, there was no creed that he did not
profess, there was no opinion that he dill not promulgate; in the hope of a
dynasty, he upheld the crescent; for the sake of a divorce, he bowed before
the cross; the orphan of St. Louis, he became the adopted child of the
republic; and with a parricidal ingratitude, on the ruins both of the
throne and the tribune, he reared the throne of his despotism. A professed
Catholic, he imprisoned the pope; a pretended patriot, he impoverished the
country; and in the name of Brutus, he grasped without remorse, and wore
without shame, the diadem of the Casars.
C. Phillips.


LXVI.

A COLLISION OF VICES.

My honorable and learned friend began by telling us that, after all, hatred