stance of something like compliance with the
brutal spirit of the world, on all other subjects he was eminently
unworldly, child-like, simple-minded, and upright. He would flatter no
man; even when addressing nations, it is almost laughable to see how
invariably he prefaces his counsels with such plain truths uttered in
a manner so offensive as must have defeated his purpose if it had
otherwise any chance of being accomplished. For instance, in
addressing America, he begins thus: "People of America! since your
separation from the mother-country your moral character has
degenerated in the energy of thought and sense; produced by the
absence of your association and intercourse with British officers and
merchants; you have no moral discernment to distinguish between the
protective power of England and the destructive power of France." And
his letter to the Irish nation opens in this agreeable and
conciliatory manner--"People of Ireland! I address you as a true
philosopher of nature, foreseeing the perpetual misery your
irreflective character and total absence of moral discernment are
preparing for," &c. The second sentence begins thus:--"You are
sacrilegiously arresting the arm of your parent kingdom fighting the
cause of man and nature, when the triumph of the fiend of French
police terror would be your own instant extirpation." And the letter
closes thus:--"I see but one awful alternative--that Ireland will be a
perpetual moral volcano, threatening the destruction of the world, if
the education and instruction of thought and sense shall not be able
to generate the faculty of moral discernment among a very numerous
class of the population, who detest the civic calm as sailors the
natural calm--and make civic rights on which they cannot reason a
pretext for feuds which they delight in." As he spoke freely and
boldly to others, so he spoke loftily of himself; at p. 313 of "The
Harp of Apollo," on making a comparison of himself with Socrates (in
which he naturally gives the preference to himself,) he styles "The
Harp," &c., "this unparalleled work of human energy." At p. 315, he
calls it "this stupendous work;" and lower down on the same page he
says--"I was turned out of school at the age of fifteen for a dunce or
blockhead, because I would not stuff into my memory all the nonsense
of erudition and learning; and if future ages should discover the
unparalleled energies of genius in this work, it will prove my most
important