god to bestow favours on mortals; not to deprive them of what good they have. But if you are no god, reflect on the precarious condition of humanity. You will thus show more wisdom, than by dwelling on those subjects which have puffed up your pride, and made you forget yourself. You see how little you are likely to gain by attempting the conquest of Scythia. On the other hand, you may, if you please, have in us a valuable alliance. We command the borders of both Europe and Asia. There is nothing between us and Bactria, but the river Tanais; and our territory extends to Thrace, which, as we have heard, borders on Macedon. If you decline attacking us in a hostile manner, you may have our friendship. Nations which have never been at war are on an equal footing. But it is in vain that confidence is reposed in a conquered people. There can be no sincere friendship between the oppressor and the oppressed. Even in peace, the latter think themselves entitled to the rights of war against the former. We will, if you think good, enter into a treaty with you, according to our manner, which is, not by signing, sealing, and taking the gods to witness, as is the Grecian custom, but by doing actual services. The Scythians are not used to promise; but to perform without promising. And they think an appeal to the gods superfluous; for that those who have no regard for the esteem of men, will not hesitate to offend the gods by perjury. You may, therefore, consider with yourself, whether you had better have a people of such a character, and so situate as to have it in their power either to serve you or to annoy you, according as you treat them, for allies or for enemies. Q. CURTIUS.

132

MODERN ORATORY.

DEFENCE OF QUEEN CAROLINE.

SEE, my Lords, the unhappy fate of this illustrious woman! It has been her lot always to lose her surest stay, her best protector, when the dangers most thickened around her; and by a coincidence almost miraculous, there has hardly been one of her defenders withdrawn from her, that his loss has not been the signal of an attack upon her existence. Mr. Pitt was her earliest defender and friend in this country. He died in 1806; and but a few weeks afterwards, the first inquiry into the conduct of Her Royal Highness began. He left her a legacy to Mr. Percival, her firm, dauntless, most able advocate; and, no sooner had the hand of an assassin laid Mr. Percival low, than she felt the calamity of his death, in the renewal of the attacks which his gallantry, his skill, and his invariable constancy had discomfited. Mr. Whitbread then undertook her defence; and when that catastrophe happened, which all good men lament, without any distinction of party or sect, again commenced the distant grumbling of the storm; for it then, happily, was never allowed to approach her, because her daughter stood her friend; and there were who worshipped the rising sun. But when she lost that amiable and beloved daughter, all which might have been expected here-all which might have been dreaded by her, if she had not been innocent-all she did dread-because, who, innocent or guilty, loves persecution; who delights in trial, when character and honour are safe?-all was, at once, allowed to burst upon her head; and the operations commenced by the Milan Commission. And, my Lords, as it there were no possibility of the Queen losing her protector without some most important act being played in this

drama against her, the day which saw the venerable remains of our revered sovereign consigned to the tomb-of that sovereign, who, from the first outset of the princess in English life, had been her constant and steady defender— that same sun ushered the ringleader of the band of perjured witnesses into the palace of his illustrious successor. Why, my Lords, do I mention these things? Not for the sake of making so trite a remark as, that trading politicians are selfish—that spite is twin-brother to ingratitude—that nothing will bind base natures—that favours conferred, and the duty of gratitude neglected, only makes those natures the more malignant. My Lords, the topic would be trite and general, and I should be ashamed to trouble your Lordships with it; but I say this once more, in order to express my deep sense of the unworthiness with which I now succeed such powerful defenders, and my alarm lest my exertions should fail to do what theirs, had they been living, must have accomplished.

:

Such, then, my Lords, is this case. And again let me call on your Lordships, even at the risk of repetition, never to dismiss for a moment from your minds the two great points upon which I rest my attack upon the evidence:first, that they have not proved the facts by the good witnesses who were within their reach, whom they have no shadow of pretext for not calling; and, secondly, that the witnesses, whom they have ventured to call, are, every one of them, injured in their credit. How, I again ask, my Lords, is a plot ever to be discovered, except by the means of these two principles ? Nay; there are instances in which plots have been discovered through the medium of the second principle, when the first had happened to fail. When venerable witnesses have been seen to be brought forward-when persons above all suspicion have lent themselves, for a season, to impure plans-when nothing seemed possible when no resource for the guiltless seemed open; they have almost providentially escaped from the snare by the second of these two principles-by the evidence breaking down, where it was not expected to be sifted-by a weak point being found, where no pains, from not foreseeing the attack, had been made to support it.

Your Lordships recollect that great passage-I say great,

for it is poetically just and eloquent-in the sacred writings, when the elders had joined themselves, two of them, in a plot which had appeared to have succeeded, " For that," as the scriptures say, "they had hardened their hearts, and had turned away their eyes, that they might not look at heaven, and that they might do the purposes of unjust judg ments." But they, though giving a clear, consistent, and uncontradicted story, were disappointed, and their victim was rescued from their gripe by the trifling circumstance of a contradiction about a mastick tree. Let not man call those contradictions, or those falsehoods, which false witnesses swear to from needless falsehood-such as Sacchi, about his changing his name; or such as Majocchi, about the banker's clerk; or such as all the others belonging to the other witnesses; not going to the main body of the case, but to the main body of the credit of the witnesses -let not man rashly and blindly call those accidents; they are dispensations of that providence which wills not that the guilty should triumph, and which favourably protects the innocent. Such, my Lords, is this case now before you! Such is the evidence in support of this measure— inadequate to prove a debt-impotent to deprive of any civil right-ridiculous to convict of the lowest offencescandalous, if brought forward to support a charge of the highest nature which the law knows-monstrous, to ruin the honour of an English Queen! What shall I say, then, if this is their case-if this is the species of proof by which an act of judicial legislature, an ex post facto law, is sought to be passed against this defenceless woman? My Lords, I pray your Lordships to pause. You are standing on the brink of a precipice. It will go forth, your judgment, if it goes against the Queen; but it will be the only judgment you ever will pronounce, which will fail in its object, and return upon those who give it. My Lords, from the horrors of this catastrophe save the countrysave yourselves from this situation. Rescue that country, of which you are the ornaments; but in which you could flourish no longer, when severed from the people, than the blossom when cut off from the root and stem of the tree; save that country, that you may continue to adorn it-save the crown, which is in jeopardy-the aristocracy, which is

shaken the altar, which never more can stand secure amongst the shocks that shall rend its kindred throne.

You have said, my Lords, you have willed - the Church and the King have willed-that the Queen should be deprived of its solemn service. She has, indeed, instead of that solemnity, the heart-felt prayers of the people. She wants no prayers of mine; but I do here pour forth my supplications at the Throne of Mercy, that that mercy may be poured down upon the people of this country in a larger measure than the merits of its rulers may deserve, and that your hearts may be turned to justice.

BROUGHAM.

EULOGIUM ON MR. FOX.

UPON the one great subject, which at this moment, I am confident has possession of the whole feelings of every man whom I address-the loss, the irreparable loss, of the great, the illustrious character, whom we all deplore-I shall, I can say—but little. A long interval must take place between the heavy blow which has been struck, and the consideration of its effect, before any one (and how many are there!) of those who have revered and loved Mr. Fox, as I have done, can speak of his death with the feeling, but manly composure, which becomes the dignified regret it ought to inspire. To say anything to you at this moment, in the fresh hour of your unburthened sorrows-to depict, to dwell upon the great traits of his character-must be unnecessary, and almost insulting. His image still lives before your eyes-his virtues are in your hearts-his loss is your despair. I have seen in a public print, what are stated to have been his last words, and they are truly stated. They were these: "I die happy." Then, turning to the more immediate objects of his private affections, he added, "but I pity you." Gentlemen, this statement is precisely true. But, oh! if the solemn fleeting hour had allowed of such considerations, and if the unassuming nature of his dignified mind had not withheld him, which of you will allow his title to have said, not only to the sharers of his domestic love, hanging in mute despair upon his couch, "I pity