in their
own diurnal prints, our parliamentary debates, and the general outline
of most of our political schemes, which were furnished by people in the
pay of the french government, who resided in England notwithstanding the
severity of the legislative, and the vigilance of the executive
authorities. Whilst I am mentioning the subject of newspaper
intercourse, I cannot help lamenting, that since the renewal of national
friendship, the public prints of both countries are not more under the
influence of cordiality and good humour.

The liberty of the press is the palladium of reason, the distributor of
light and learning, the public and undismayed assertor of interdicted
truth. It is the body and the _honour guard_ of civil and political
liberty. Where the laws halt with dread, the freedom of the press
advances, and with the subtle activity of conscience, penetrates the
fortified recesses and writes its _fearful sentence on the palace wall_
of recoiling tyrants. As an englishman, my expiring sigh should be
breathed for its preservation; but as an admirer of social repose and
national liberality, I regret to see its noble energies engaged in the
degrading service of fretful spleen, and ungenerous animadversion. When
the horizon is no longer blackened with the smoke of the battle, it is
unworthy of two mighty empires to carry on an ignoble war of words. If
peace is their wish, let them manifest the great and enlightened
sentiment in all its purity, and disdain to irritate each other by acts
of petulant and provoking recrimination.

A short time preceding my arrival in France, Bonaparte had rendered
himself very popular amongst the constitutional clergy, by a well timed
compliment to the metropolitan archbishop. The first consul gave a
grand dinner to this dignified prelate, and to several of his brethren.
After the entertainment, Bonaparte addressed the archbishop by
observing, that as he had given directions for the repairing of the
archiepiscopal palace, he should very much like to take a ride in the
archbishop's carriage, to see the progress which the workmen had made.
The prelate bowed to the first consul, and informed him that he had no
carriage, otherwise he should be much flattered by conducting him
thither. Bonaparte good humouredly said, "how can that be? your coach
has been waiting at the gate this half hour," and immediately led the
venerable archbishop down the steps of the Thuilleries, where he found a
plain