es only serves to make him more thankful
that his notions are so true; and the more he sees of
Popery, the more abominable he feels it to be. If there is
any sin, any evil in a foreign population, though it be
found among Protestants also, still Popery is clearly the
cause of it. If great cities are the schools of vice, it is
owing to Popery. If Sunday is profaned, if there is a
carnival, it is the fault of the Catholic Church. Then,
there are no private houses, as in England; families live in
staircases; see what it is to belong to a Popish country.
Why do the Roman laborers wheel their barrows so slow in the
Forum? why do the Lazzaroni of Naples lie so listlessly on
the beach? why, but because they are under the _malaria_ of
a false religion. Rage, as is well known, is in the Roman
like a falling sickness, almost as if his will had no part
in it and he had no responsibility; see what it is to be a
Papist. Bloodletting is as frequent and as much a matter of
course in the South as hair-cutting in England; it is a
trick borrowed from the convents, when they wish to tame
down refractory spirits."[39]

"Excuse me, Sir, if turning from such thoughts I resume this
comparative view once more. You have seen it on a large
scale; look at it on a small one. I will point out to your
attention a particular instance of it in the single province
of Pennsylvania. In the year 1704 that province called for
L11,459 in value of your commodities, native and foreign.
This was the whole. What did it demand in 1772? Why, nearly
fifty times as much; for in that year the export to
Pennsylvania was L507,909, nearly equal to the export to all
the colonies together in the first period."[40]

The following illustrates the weakness of closing with a specific
instance when it does not rise to the level of the remainder of a
paragraph. The last sentence would better be omitted.

"We often hear of the magical influence of poetry. The
expression in general means nothing; but, applied to the
writings of Milton, it is most appropriate. His poetry acts
like an incantation. Its merit lies less in its obvious
meaning than in its occult power. There would seem, at first
sight, to be no more in his words than in other words. But
they are words of enchantment. No sooner are the