CCLXI. WHO ARE MARTYRS TO INFERIORS. So fell the royal oak, by a wild crew Of mongrel shrubs, that underneath it grew.' THUS wrote Howel of Charles I.; and it reminds one of what Pope wrote to Dr. Arbuthnot in reference to Queen Anne and the house of Stuart in general. 'No creature has better natural dispositions, or would act more rightly or reasonably in every duty, did she act by herself, or from herself; but you know it is the 'misfortune of that family to be governed like a ship; I mean the head guided by the tail, and that by every 'wind that blows in it.' The ring-dove is a wild, but neither a passionate or a powerful bird; and yet, when bred up with a sparrowhawk or a white owl, it will sometimes assume the masterage and maintain it. Men, also, occasionally, allow inferiors to occupy the higher ground: 'As if Olympus to a mole-hill should In supplication nod.'-Coriolanus. James Stuart, Duke of Richmond*, though of a haughty spirit, was yet so diffident that he was frequently governed by men who judged worse than himself; and Whitelocke† assures us, and history confirms it, that Charles I. had this unhappiness; that he had a better opinion of other men's judgment than he had of his own, although theirs was, generally, much weaker than his own. He was, in fact, often precipitated into mea *Birch. p. 110. fol. + Memoir, p. 65, sures his own prudence would have prompted him to avoid, by listening to the suggestions of Henrietta Maria still more implicitly than Louis XVI. listened to those of Marie Antoinette. The advice of an inferior, both in station and in mind, can never be construed into Wisdom, any more than the string, which vibrates in a harp, can be construed into the note of music, which we hear. Yet many persons (even of capacity) willingly shut up their understanding, and act upon a reason inferior to their own, that they may not have the responsibility of their own acts. Thus the red-bird of North America, which sings with great melody, listens in silence and with great pleasure to the bunting, which 'cow-cow-cows' in the neighbourhood of its nest. CCLXII. WISE TO-DAY; FOOLISH TO-MORROW. * COSMO DE' MEDICI was sometimes acting the fool, and at others exhibiting himself as the wisest of his age Locke's Earl of Shaftesbury, indeed, used frequently to assert, that every man was two men; one foolish and the other wise; and that each one follows its turn. Edward IV. was active and enterprizing at the beginning of his reign; a martyr to indolence and dissipation at the end of it. Elizabeth was proof against passion, at a season of life when it is all-raging with * Vid. Macchiavelli, Hist. Flor., viii. 6 most persons; and when it is extinguished in others, it raged furiously in her. Wise to-day, foolish to-morrow! whether Louis XIV. can be esteemed wise, in any respect, I much doubt; but it is certain, that important manufactories in England, Holland, and Germany, arose out of his impolitic revocation of the edict of Nantes. When the Marquis de Louvois was desired by this monarch to give his opinion, relative to his proposed marriage with Madame de Maintenon, he threw himself at the feet of the king, and exclaimed,— Sire, you may deprive me of my fortune, my liberty, my life; yet, I must ever repeat, your Majesty will dishonour yourself by this marriage.' This was a line of conduct that did honour to the Marquis de Louvois, and which the consciousness of having advised wisely enabled him to exhibit. But he lost all his influence by two designs he meditated against his master. First, to treat the Duke of Savoy in a manner so unworthy as to compel that prince to declare war against France; secondly, by the non-fulfilment of every article of a treaty with Switzerland, to induce the Swiss to break off their alliance. How these acts of treachery were to increase his power, except by rendering him more necessary, does not appear; but the discovery ultimately ruined him. The king insulted him. He was re-invited, however, to court, and he returned; but, on being insulted again, he returned to his hotel, drank a glass of water, threw himself upon a chair, and, uttering a few words, immediately expired. CCLXIII. THE POWER OF CIRCUMSTANCES. Oct. 10, 1807.-YESTERDAY I rode ten miles, and returned listless and weary. To-day I rode the same distance, and returned more vigorous than when I sat out. The cause of this difference? Yesterday I had no hopes of an agreeable termination to a business in hand; to-day the affair ended to my entire satisfaction. A week since, I rose from my bed, low, languid, and apparently on the eve of an illness. A letter came! I immediately ordered my horse, and was able to hunt as well as ever I did in my life. Circumstances work stranger wonders,-whether of good or of ill. A similar effect of mind over body furnished Xenophon with a fine argument in favour of the soul's eternity: When I consider the boundless activity of our ، minds,' says he,' the remembrance we have of things 6 past, and our foresight of that which is to come: when I reflect on the noble discoveries and vast improvements by which those minds have advanced arts and 'sciences, I am entirely persuaded, and out of all doubt, 'that a nature, which has in itself a fund of so many ' excellent things, cannot possibly be mortal.' Doubtless, it cannot be mortal; in a future state, too, there can be little doubt, that a large field will be opened to our observance, and ourselves endowed with senses and faculties to observe and to act with, far more various, comprehensive, and acute, than those we are at present endowed with. Let us hope this. Suppose an error: where is the injury? Hope is the best friend that age and misfortune have. June 6, 1831.-Four-and-twenty years ago! To-day I find myself at a small inn near Goodrich Castle, in the county of Monmouth. But before I go farther, however, I must apologize, my dear Lelius, for every now and then speaking of myself. Yet I will not! Have I not promised to give you the result of my experience? But how can you reap what you have so often desired me to give you the fruits of my harvest,—unless you consent to pay for the sickle? Say nothing, then; bind up the sheaves, such as they are, and take them into your barn. Goodrich Castle is a fine ruin; and from one of the windings of the river on which it stands (the Wye) it presents a picture, so greatly admired in Milton: Towers and battlements he sees, Bosom'd high in tufted trees.' We stood some time to admire its appearance, and then gazed awhile on a walnut-tree, the number of nuts on which are said to indicate the plenty or scarcity of the coming harvest. 'Contemplator item, cum se nux plurima silvis Georg., i. 187. On the trunk of this walnut-tree is inscribed the |