brothers have abandoned me; they have taken wives from another nation, and allow their wives to direct them; their wives are their kings!" Then turning towards his younger brothers, he imprecated a curse upon them if they should follow the example of their elder brethren. Again addressing the people, he said, "you walk over my head while I sleep, but you now see that the wise Mocooas respect me. Had they not been our friends, we must have fled ere now before the enemy." Turning to Wleeloqua, the eighth speaker, he said, "I hear you, my father; I understand you, my father; your words are true and good for the ear. It is good that we be instructed by the Macooas. May evil overtake the disobedient! May they be broken in pieces! Be silent, ye women!" (addressing them,) "ye who plague your husbands, who steal their goods, and give them to others, be silent; and hinder not your husbands and children by your evil words. Be silent, ye kidney-eaters,¹ (turning towards the old men,) ye who are fit for nothing but to prowl about whenever an ox is killed. If our cattle are carried off, where will you get kidneys?"

Then addressing the warriors, he said, "there are many of you who do not deserve to eat out of a broken pot; ye stubborn and stupid men! consider what you have heard, and obey without murmuring. Hearken! I command you, ye chiefs of the Matclhapees, Matclhoroos, Myrees, Barolongs, and Bamacootas, that ye proclaim through all your clans the proceedings of this day, and let none be ignorant. And again I say, ye warriors, prepare for the day of battle; let your shields be strong, your quivers full of arrows, and your battle-axes sharp as hunger." Turning a second time towards the old men and women, he said, "prevent not the warrior from going forth to battle, by your timid counsels. No! rouse up the warrior to glory, and he shall return to you with honourable scars; fresh marks of valour shall cover his thigh;² and then we shall renew the war-song and dance, and rehearse the story of our achievements."

CHARACTER OF PITT.

By the late Right Hon. G. Canning.

The character of this illustrious statesman early passed its ordeal. Scarcely had he attained the age at which reflection commences, than Europe with astonishment beheld him filling the first place in the councils of his country, and manage the vast mass of its concerns with all the vigour and steadiness of the most matured wisdom. Dignity, strength, discretion, these were among the masterly qualities of his mind at its first dawn. He had been nurtured a statesman, and his knowledge was of that kind which always lies ready for practical application. Not dealing in the subtleties of abstract politics, but moving in the slow, steady procession of reason, his conceptions were reflective, and his views correct. Habitually attentive to the concerns of government, he spared no pains to acquaint himself with whatever was connected, however minutely, with its prosperity. He was devoted to the state: its interests engrossed all his study, and engaged all his care: it was the element alone in which he seemed to live and move. He allowed himself but little recreation from his labours; his mind was always on its station, and his activity was unremitted.

He did not hastily adopt a measure, nor hastily abandon it. The plan struck out by him for the preservation of Europe was the result of prophetic wisdom and profound policy. But though defeated in many respects by the selfish ambition and short-sighted imbecility of foreign powers, whose rulers were too venal or too weak to follow the flight of that mind which would have taught them to outwing the storm, the policy involved in it was still a secret operation on the conduct of surrounding states. His plans were full of energy, and the principles which inspired them looked beyond the consequences of the hour. In a period of change and convulsion, the most perilous in the history of Great Britain, when sedition stalked abroad, and when the emissaries of France and the abettors of her regicide factions formed a league powerful from their number, and formidable by their talent, in that awful crisis the promptitude of his measures saved his country.

He knew nothing of that timid and wavering cast of mind which dares not abide by its own decision. He never suffered popular prejudice or party clamour to turn him aside from any measure which his deliberate judgment had adopted; he had a proud reliance on himself, and it was justified. Like the sturdy warrior leaning on his own battle, axe, conscious where his strength lay, he did not readily look beyond it.

As a debater in the House of Commons, his speeches were logical and argumentative: if they did not often abound in the graces of metaphor, or sparkle with the brilliancy of wit, they were always animated, elegant, and classical. The strength of his oratory was intrinsic; it presented the rich and abundant resource of a clear discernment and a correct taste. His speeches are stampt with inimitable marks of originality. When replying to his opponents, his readiness was not more conspicuous than his energy: he was always prompt and always dignified. He could sometimes have recourse to the sportiveness of irony, but he did not often seek any other aid than was to be derived from an arranged and extensive knowledge of his subject. This qualified him fully to discuss the arguments of others, and forcibly to defend his own. Thus armed, it was rarely in the power of his adversaries, mighty as they were, to beat him from the field. His eloquence, occasionally rapid, electric, vehement, was always chaste, winning, and persuasive, not awing into acquiescence, but arguing into conviction. His understanding was bold and comprehensive: nothing seemed too remote for its reach, or too large for its grasp. Unallured by dissipation, and unswayed by pleasure, he never sacrificed the national treasure to the one, or the national interest to the other. To his unswerving integrity the most authentic of all testimony is to be found in that unbounded public confidence which followed him throughout the whole of his political career.

Absorbed as he was in the pursuits of public life, he did not neglect to prepare himself in silence for that higher destination, which is at once the incentive and reward of human virtue. His talents, superior and splendid as they were, never made him forgetful of that eternal wisdom from which they emanated. The faith and fortitude of his last moments were affecting and exemplary. In his forty-seventh year, and in the meridian of his fame, he died on the twenty-third of January, one thousand eight hundred and six.