Thucydides says, that "that city which is governed by the worse laws, but those firm and stable, is in a safer condition than the city where the laws are better and more eligible in their original institution, but where they are administered in a loose and fluctuating manner." This wisdom, which is now of the venerable age of twenty-two hundred years and upwards, is, we venture to affirm, quite as sound as any principle which modern enlightenment has exposed to us in the science of government.

Some of our listeners will perhaps by this time be repeating to themselves the well-known couplet :

"For modes of government let fools contest,
Whate'er is best administer'd is best."

With the last line of this couplet I am very much disposed to agree, but the first seems to be rather irrational, and at all events does not lead by a "concatenation accordingly" to that which follows it. The probability of a good administration of government depends very much upon the mode of government. Such a mode of government as affords the best prospect of distinctness in its rules, and mild but unflinching firmness in maintaining those rules, is greatly to be desired. The patriots to whose absurdities I object are those who seem to believe that instability, or what they call "progress" in political institutions, is a grand thing

for human happiness. If they would consider their system that is honestly and fairly consider it with reference to their own families, they might soon learn from their own experience that such agitations and shiftings can never come to good.

The mistake of the poet above quoted is something like that of a man who should say :—

Who digs for zinc or copper is an ass,

Let him who seeks them be content with brass.

Now, brass being composed of zinc and copper blended together, such a couplet would be very unreasonable, and because the administration of government is very likely to depend upon what the government is, it is, in like manner, unreasonable to indicate that it is the part of fools to contest about the form of government, the administration of it being really the important point.

In an absolute form of government there is every probability that caprice, or enmity, or favouritism, will change or distort those rules which ought to be of general and equal application. If, on the other hand, the sway of the multitude be admitted, some sudden panic or absurd clamour will lead to the violation of general rules, for the sake of gratifying what is hastily and recklessly decided upon as the justice of the moment. The best security (and even the best is but a frail one) for the honest admi

nistration of declared rules of government is probably to be found in a combination of individual responsibility, with publicity, and liability to popular animadversion and admonishment. But inasmuch as administrators are apt to take advantage of an assumed vagueness, or affected misunderstanding, of the rules upon which they are bound to proceed, it would be highly convenient if at certain seasons they were bound solemnly and minutely to declare their adhesion to the legally-ordained general rules of the government, whatever they might be, so that the public might frequently have before them an authentic record of those rules and limitations within which it should be the duty of administrators to keep.

CRABBE AND BURKE.

THERE are very few compositions more interesting in every point of view than the letter written to the great and good Edmund Burke by the poet Crabbe, when he was almost sinking under the miseries of a poverty-striken literary adventurer in London. There is a wondrous pathos in its simple detail. Had the young man laboured to be affecting, he would, doubtless, have missed his aim. The pure taste of Burke would have revolted from any exaggeration or extravagance. But Crabbe contrived to unite common sense with modesty, and to appeal

to the feelings of a just and generous man without any attempt to work upon mere sensibility. It is of so much importance to show to all people, and especially to the young, the advantage of a simple and clear statement-a modest and unambitious recital of their circumstances and their wants, in the applications which they may have to make to persons of greater consequence than themselves-that, as the very best pattern I can set before them, I shall borrow some passages of this very admirable letter. He begins thus :— "Sir-I am sensible that I need even your talents to apologise for the freedom I now take, but I have a plea which, however simply urged, will, with a mind like yours, Sir, procure me pardon. I am one of those outcasts on the world who are without a friend, without employment, and without bread."

This was coming to the matter at once, which most people are afraid to do. They weary their correspondent with some long detail, the upshot of which is something like what poor Crabbe at once announced. In this way they take much from the force of their statement. Crabbe, by his simple yet powerfully condensed announcement of his condition, awakens curiosity. He then proceeds with his justification; that is to say, the detail of his case :- "Pardon me a short preface. I had a partial father, who gave me a better education than his broken fortune would have allowed, and a better than was necessary,

as he could give me that only. I was designed for the profession of physic, but, not having wherewithal to complete the requisite studies, the design but served to convince me of a parent's affection, and the error it had occasioned. In April last I came to London with three pounds, and flattered myself this would be sufficient to supply me with the common necessaries of life till my abilities should procure me more; of these I had the highest opinion, and a poetical vanity contributed to my delusion. I knew little of the world, and had read books only. I wrote, and fancied perfection in my compositions. When I wanted bread they promised me affluence, and soothed me with dreams of reputation, whilst my appearance subjected me to contempt."

After proceeding with many other details equally minute, and almost penitent in the tone of their narration, although he had only to speak of his misfortunes, and not his faults, he says:-" You will guess the purpose of so long an introduction. I appeal to you, Sir, as a good and, let me add, a great man. I have no other pretension to your favour than that I am an unhappy one.

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"Can you, Sir, in any degree aid me, with propriety? Will you ask any demonstration of my veracity? I have imposed upon myself, but I have been guilty of no other imposition. I know those of rank and fortune are teased with