first Pizarro that crossed him; but when he walks along the river of
Amazons; when he rests his eye on the unrivalled Andes: when he
measures the long and watered savannah, or contemplates from a sudden
promontory, the distant, vast Pacific, and feels himself in this vast
theatre, and commanding each ready produced fruit of this wilderness,
and each progeny of this stream--his exaltation is not less than
imperial. He is as gentle too as he is great: his emotions of
tenderness keep pace with his elevation of sentiment; for he says,
'These were made by a good Being, who, unsought by me, placed me here
to enjoy them.' He becomes at once a child and a king. His mind is in
himself; from hence he argues and from hence he acts, and he argues
unerringly, and acts magisterially. His mind in himself is also in
his God; and therefore he loves, and therefore he soars.'"

As these pages are designed, by brief incidental notices, to furnish a
view of the Literature of Bristol during a particular portion of time;
and having introduced the name of Ann Yearsley, I here, in reference to
her, subjoin a few additional remarks.

* * * * *

I was well acquainted with Ann Yearsley, and my friendship for Hannah
More did not blind my eyes to the merits of her opponent. Candour exacts
the acknowledgment that the Bristol Milkwoman was a very extraordinary
individual. Her natural abilities were eminent, united with which, she
possessed an unusually sound masculine understanding; and altogether
evinced, even in her countenance, the unequivocal marks of genius. If her
education and early advantages had been favourable, there is no limiting
the distinction to which she might have attained; and the respect she did
acquire, proves what formidable barriers may be surmounted by native