of what political
and social capabilities, nay let us say what depth and opulence
of true social vitality, lay in those old barbarous ages, That
the fit Governor could be met with under such disguises, could be
recognised and laid hold of under such? Here he is discovered
with a maximum of two shillings in his pocket, and a leather
scrip round his neck; trudging along the highway, his frock-
skirts looped over his arm. They think this is he nevertheless,
the true Governor; and he proves to be so. Brethren, have we no
need of discovering true Governors, but will sham ones forever do
for us? These were absurd superstitious blockheads of Monks;
and we are enlightened Tenpound Franchisers, without taxes on
knowledge! Where, I say, are our superior, are our similar or at
all comparable discoveries? We also have eyes, or ought to have;
we have hustings, telescopes; we have lights, link-lights and
rushlights of an enlightened free Press, burning and dancing
everywhere, as in a universal torch-dance; singeing your
whiskers as you traverse the public thoroughfares in town and
country. Great souls, true Governors, go about under all manner
of disguises now as then. Such telescopes, such enlightenment,--
and such discovery! How comes it, I say; how comes it? Is it
not lamentable; is it not even, in some sense, amazing?

Alas, the defect, as we must often urge and again urge, is less a
defect of telescopes than of some eyesight. Those superstitious
blockheads of the Twelfth Century had no telescopes, but they had
still an eye: not ballot-boxes; only reverence for Worth,
abhorrence of Unworth. It is the way with all barbarians. Thus
Mr. Sale informs me, the old Arab Tribes would gather in
liveliest _gaudeamus,_ and sing, and kindle bonfires, and wreathe
crowns of honour, and solemnly thank the gods that, in their
Tribe too, a Poet had shewn himself. As indeed they well might;
for what usefuller, I say not nobler and heavenlier thing could
the gods, doing their very kindest, send to any Tribe or Nation,
in any time or circumstances? I declare to thee, my afflicted
quack-ridden brother, in spite of thy astonishment, it is very
lamentable! We English find a Poet, as brave a man as has been
made for a hundred years or so anywhere under the Sun; and do we
kindle bonfires, thank the gods? Not at all. We, taking due
counsel of it, set the man to gauge ale-barrels in the Burgh of
Dumfries; and pique ourselves