The keys were then delivered to Sir Walter, who took the six prisoners into his custody, and ordered the gates to be opened. The English by this time, were informed of what had passed in the city, and each of the soldiers prepared a portion of his own victuals. to entertain the half-famished inhabitants. At length St. Pierre and his fellow-citizens appeared with Sir Walter Manny, and a guard. The tents of the English were all emptied, and the soldiers poured from all quarters to catch a sight of this little band of patriots as they passed. They bowed down to them on all sides, and murmured their applause of that virtue, which they could not but revere, even in their enemies. As soon as they had reached the king, he said, Manny, are these the principal inhabitants of Calais? They are, said Manny, not only the principal men of Calais, but of France, my liege, if virtue can ennoble them. Were they delivered peaceably said Edward. They are self-delivered, self-devoted, said Manny, and come to offer up their inestimable heads as a ransom for thousands. Edward was secretly offended at the praises which Manny so liberally bestowed upon enemies, whose obstinacy had so exasperated him; but concealing his resentment, he replied, "Experience has ever shown, that lenity only serves to incite the criminal to new crimes, which severity only can effectually punish and restrain." Go, said the king, to an officer, and lead these men to execution. Your rebellion, continued he, addressing himself to St. Pierre, is highly aggravated by your present presumption, and contempt of my power. We have nothing to ask of your majesty, said Eustace, save what you cannot refuse us. What is that? said Edward. Your esteem, my lord, said Eustace, and went out with his companions.

At this critical instant the queen arrived, with a powerful reinforcement, and Sir Walter flew to inform her majesty of the particulars respecting the six victims. She immediately repaired to the king, and persuaded him with tears and arguments to save the lives of those unhappy men. Be it so, cried Edward, who was convinced of his impolicy; prevent the execution, and bring them instantly before us. They came, when the queen with an aspect and accent of mildness, thus addressed them. Natives of France and inhabitants of Calais, you have put us to vast expense of

blood and treasure; but you have, no doubt, acted up to the best of your judgment. We loose your chains, we snatch you from the scaffold, and we thank you for the lesson of humiliation you teach us. You have shown us that excellence does not consist in birth or station that virtue gives a dignity superior to that of kings; and that those whom the Almighty endows with sentiments like yours, are justly and eminently raised above all human distinctions. We give you freedom, and we offer to your choice the gifts and honors that Edward has to bestow.

Ah, my country, exclaimed St. Pierre, it is now that I tremble for you. Edward could only win your cities, but Philippa conquers hearts. Brave St. Pierre, said the queen, wherefore look you so dejected? Ah, madam, said he, when I meet with such another opportunity of dying, I shall not regret that I survive.】 this day.

LORD WALPOLE AGAINST PITT.

SIR, I was unwilling to interrupt the course of this debate while it was carried on with calmness and decency, by men who do not suffer the ardor of opposition to cloud their reason, or transport them to such expressions as the dignity of this assembly does not admit. I have hitherto deferred to answer the gentle man who declaimed against the bill with such fluency of rhetoric, and such vehemence of gesture; who charged the advocates for the expedients now proposed, with having no regard to any interests but their own, and with making laws only to consume paper; and threatened them with the defection of their adherents, and the loss of their influence, upon this new discovery of their folly and ignorance. Nor, sir, do I now answer him for any other purthan to remind him how little the clamors of pose and peturage, lancy of invective, contribute to the purpose for which this assembly is called together; how little the discovery of truth is promoted, and the security of the nation established by pompous diction and theatrical emotions. Formidable sounds and furious declamations, confident assertions, and lofty periods, may affect the young and

inexperienced; and perhaps the gentleman may have contracted his habits of oratory by conversing more with those of his own age, than with such as have had more opportunities of acquiring knowledge, and more successful methods of communicating their sentiments. If the heat of his temper, sir, would suffer him to attend to those whose age and long acquaintance with business give them an indisputable right to deference and superiority, he would learn, in time, to reason rather than declaim, and to prefer justness of argument, and an accurate knowledge of the facts, to sounding epithets and splendid superlatives, which may disturb the imagination for a moment, but leave no lasting impression on the mind. He will learn, sir, that to accuse and prove are very different, and that reproaches unsupported by evidence, affect only the character of him who utters them. Excursions of fancy and flights of oratory are indeed pardonable in young men, but in no other; and it would surely contribute more, even to the purpose for which some gentlemen appear to speak, that of depreciating the conduct of the administration, to prove the inconveniences and injustice of this bill, than barely to assert them, with whatever magnificence of language or appearance of zeal, honesty, or compassion.

PITT'S REPLY.

SIR,-The atrocious crime of being a young man, which the honorable gentleman has, with such spirit and decency, charged upon me, I shall neither attempt to palliate or deny; but content myself with wishing that I may be one of those whose follies may cease with their youth, and not of that number who are ignorant in spite of experience. Whether youth can be imputed to any man as a reproach, I will not, sir, assume the province of determining; but surely age may become justly contemptible, if the opportunities which it brings have passed away without improvement, and vice appears to prevail, when the passions have subsided. The wretch, who after having seen the consequences of a thousand errors, continues still to blunder, and whose age has

only added obstinacy to stupidity, is surely the object of either abhorrence or contempt, and deserves not that his gray head should secure him from insult. Much more, sir, is he to be abhorred, who, as he has advanced in age, has receded from virtue, and becomes more wicked with less temptation; who prostitutes himself for money which he cannot enjoy, and spends the remains of his life in the ruin of his country.

But youth, sir, is not my only crime; I have been accused of acting a theatrical part. A theatrical part may either imply some peculiarities of gesture, or a dissimulation of my real sentiments, and an adoption of the opinions and language of another man. In the first sense, sir, the charge is too trifling to be confuted, and deserves only to be mentioned that it may be despised. I am at liberty, like every other man, to use my own language; and though I may, perhaps, have some ambition to please this gentleman, I shall not lay myself under any restraint, nor very solicitously copy his diction or his mien, however matured by age, or modelled by experience. If any man shall, by charging me with theatrical behavior, imply, that I utter any sentiments but my own, I shall treat him as a calumniator and a villain; nor shall any protection shelter him from the treatment which he deserves. I shall, on such an occasion, without scruple, trample upon all those forms with which wealth and dignity entrench themselves; nor shall anything but age restrain my resentment. Age, which always brings one privilege, that of being insolent and supercilious without punishment.

But with regard, sir, to those whom I have offended, I am of opinion, that if I had acted a borrowed part, I should have avoided their censure. The heat which offended them is the ardor of conviction, and that zeal for the service of my country, which neither hope nor fear shall influence me to suppress. I will not sit unconcerned while my liberty is invaded, nor look in silence upon public robbery. I will exert my endeavors, at whatever hazard, to repel the aggressor and drag the thief to justice, whoever may protect them in their villainy, and whoever may partake of their plunder.

RELIGION AND SUPERSTITION CONTRASTED.

I HAD lately a very remarkable dream, which made so strong an impression upon me, that I remembered every word of it; and if you are not better employed, you may read the relation of it as follows: I thought I was in the midst of a very entertaining set of company, and extremely delighted in attending to a lively conversation, when, on a sudden, I perceived one of the most shocking figures that imagination can frame, advancing towards me. She was dressed in black, her skin was contracted into a thousand wrinkles, her eyes deep sunk in her head, and her complexion pale and livid as the countenance of death. Her looks were filled with terror and unrelenting severity, and her hands armed with whips and scorpions. As soon as she came near, with a horrid frown, and a voice that chilled my very blood, she bade me follow her. I obeyed, and she led me through rugged paths, beset with briers and thorns, into a deep, solitary valley. Wherever she passed, the fading verdure withered beneath her steps; her pestilential breath infected the air with malignant vapors; obscured the lustre of the sun, and involved the fair face of heaven in universal gloom. Dismal howlings resounded through the forest; from every baleful tree, the night-raven uttered his dreadful note; and the prospect was filled with desolation and horror. In the midst of this tremendous scene, my execrable guide addressed me in the following manner.

"Retire with me, O rash, unthinking mortal! from the vain allurements of a deceitful world; and learn that pleasure was not designed as the portion of human life. Man was born to mourn and to be wretched. This is the condition of all below the stars; and whoever endeavors to oppose it, acts in contradiction to the will of heaven. Fly then from the enchantments of youth and social delight, and here consecrate thy solitary hours to lamentation and woe. Misery is the duty of all sublunary beings; and every enjoyment is an offence to the Deity, who is to be worshipped only by the mortification of every sense of pleasure, and the everlasting exercise of sighs and tears."