The Sun.
London, England, 1822-08-03 00:00:00

LETTER.

• Sfit.—You have now for many years filled the dignified and
arduous office of Professor of Greek in the University of Cam-
bridge ; and it seems to be the .opinion of all, that you have
flllei it with zeal and ability. During that period, you must
I:a7e been led, by inclination as well as by duty, to an ani-
mated and ardent study .of Greek literature ; and you have not
disdained to endeavour to catch a few of those rays of glory
which it st.ll continues to reflect upon its satellites. If I am
correctly informed, the same altar which received the first fruits
of your youthful talents, is to be covered by the riper produce
of your manhood ; so that, if not an inspired, you may certainly
.be considered _an unwearied, votary. lam willing to believe,
"that you possess that first attribute of genius, the power of in-
tense fervid admiration ; and you have certainly been contem-
lating for years. an object of the most radiant and matchless
beauty. Under these circumstances, I shall not insult you, by
attempting to express the passionate and devoted attachment
which you must feel for Greece, its inhabitants, its very soil;
the fountain of your mental cultivation, the basis of your lite-
rary reputation. It must .be "/a love without reproach or
blame,' originating in beauty, and sustained by gratitude:
What then must have been the feelings with which you view-
ed the first convulsive starts, which shewed that this object of
youl adoratioik was about to rouse itself from its long and
•deathlike sleep;--with what interest,or rather with what agony,
must you have seen it toss and writhe upon its bed of torture !
But when it had actually risen in its wrath, when it had put
forth its regenerated strength,and was struggling furiously with
the demons of tyranny and superstition„ and lust, and rapine,
Sand murder, -which :were endeavouring to load it with triple
chains, you too must surely have felt the" certaminis guadia,"
azid have burnt to assist, as you could not partake, in tie strife.'
You will pardon '.me for having. thuslar, perhaps presumptu-
ously, attempted to deScribe emotions which have been confined
to your own breast. I am now come to a point where imagina-
- don must stop. "I must now record your actions, or nothing.
With the history of these, however, you have not thought pro-
per to supply the world ; and we are consequently bound to
believe that you have been unable or unwilling to pass the nar-
row bound which parts thought and action' and that you have
suffered some of the noblest feelings of the human mind to de-
celerate into a barren sympathy.
In dragging you and your brother. Professors before the tri-
bunal of public opinion, it will easily be believed that I am
actuated by the purest motives—it matters not whether lam
- acquainted with any or all of you. personally ; I have not done,
nor can have done, any thing to forfeit my indefeasible right
• 'of examining the conduct of those holding pdblic situations.
-If I can shew what you night have done in this most holy
cause, and prove (which, however, is self-evident), that you
ought to have done it, what shall prevent me from inflicting
the censure which your omission has deserved? not even the
fear of wounding the feelings of otherwise respectable and emi-
nent individuals—

'EA),ocaoc paAto-r` ErtrlE rrc TaAa.nrctifou GTEYW,
OsAouo-a Bpocv rt .iCEOVOY PappapoVc, TOUS- OU3E.Y2c,
KarayEXurvras EZavr,crEi 6ix crE!
The scene of desolation, which is so admirably describ-
ed in the well-known letter of Sulpicius, was indeed suf-
ficiently heart-rending to show, by contrast, the insigni-
ficance of all private grief ; but the spectacle which the
same countries now present would afford amore amiable con-
solation to a lover of the human race. There are few sorrows
which might not be mitigated in the bosom of an enlightened
philanthropist, by the knowledge that the fairest and most sa-
iled portion of Greece is free. It must make those leap for
joy, who have merely learnt to lisp the names of Homer and
Plato ;—what must be its effect upon those who have imbibed
a part of their inspiration 1 if it he true, as I believe you and
your colleagues have often asserted, that a keen perception of
the charms of Greek literature is more widely diffused in our
own country than in any other, let us hope that our feelings
have in this case kept pace with our knowledge: But however
cold atid immotable we may be in the cause of literature, we
never can be insensible to the cries of freedom. Our virtues
and our vices--our institutions and our prejudices—our na-
tional glory, and our national interests, plead equally in her fa-
vour. Through the whole course of our eventful history, we
. have never succoured her without glory, never opposed her
without disgrace; end the enlightened liberality of the present
age rejoices equally at our triumphs and our defeats.
But few days have elapsed, since an assembly of our coun-
. trymen met to celebrate the deliverance of the noblest part of
the new world from the Spanish yoke ; and, by a rare coinci-
dence, were at the same time enabled to rejoice at the emanci-
pation of Spain herself from domestic oppression. Here were.
men of all parties, eminent for, talents and virtues, establishing,
in speeches full of the purest philosophy, the universal con-
nexion which -exists between all parts of the human race, and
. proclaiming that their own liberties were enlarged and secured
. by the liberty o'f-their fellow men. I shall not attempt to con-
ceal, that at 'this meeting little or no mention was made of the
struggling patriots of Greece ; but I confess myself utterly un-
. able to account for the omission of a topic of such commanding
interest--Was it fear or shame wleich tied the tongues of so
many independent Britons ? Indfference it could not be.—
'When, in addition to the general' principles which they had
just before so nobly applied, they considered the multiplied and
inconceivably great benefits conferred by Greece upon their na-
,aive country; when, setting aside the benign influence which.

ihe'has exercised uPon our literature, they recollected, that, a
few years ago, upon the arrival of a few mutilated statues from
Athens, an (era of unthought-of brilliancy dawned upon our
sculpture, they could not be indiji,rent to the virtues and suf-
ferings of the descendants of their benefactors. I will never be-
lieve them, or any body of Englishmen, capable of such base
and stupid inconsistency.

I trust that my attachment to the great and glorious country
that gave me birth will never lead me into the contemptible error
of believing her faultless ; and I hope that', whenever I see Eng-
land on the point of disgracing herself in the eyes of mankind, I
shall have the courage to make the voice of admonition heard ,how -
ever it may be disregarded. It is unhappily the taste, probably
because it is the interest, of many writers of the day, to flatter
our national vanity, at the expense of every principle of honour,
and to sooth, by the most odious falsehoods, our irritated pride,
which is but too often wounded by the complaints and re-
proaches of other nations. This unfortunate deception is in-
dustriously propagated both in speeches and writings ; and
1 observe, that the most popular of our Reviews is not yet
tired of the profligate and hateful labour. For my part, I
shall not hesitate to express my surprise and grief at
the inglorious apathy, which pervades the whole of Eng-
' land, on a subject whica might have electrified a nation
of slaves—much less shall I attempt to conceal my indigna-
tion at the conduct of such an assembly as the one above-men-
tioned, of such bodies as our Universities, and of such men
as our Greek Professors. Before it be too late, I implore them
to reject with disdain the servile adulation which is offered
to them, or to make sonic glorious endeavour to deserve it—
MT;6'l-,3ecial OcznrEvoth,Evotic,per mat xauvozuoi\c'rocc I
at any rate do not drain with complacency the Circean cup of
interested praise.

The peculiar claims, which, as I have endeavoured to prove,
the Greeks possess upon our compassion and our justice, have
hitherto been derived from their ancestors—that which I am
about to Mention, which may appear to some the strongest of
all, proceeds wholly from themselves. They profess that re-
ligion, in comparison with which we consider all the other
blessings which have been showered upon the world as worth-
less and contemptible—they have adhered to it under the most
insolent and capricious system of persecution—and they are
now defending it, as well as their liberty, against the alarmed
and irritated tyrant who would extirpate both. As a distin-
vished member of our church, you must often have gloried in
the reflection, that the exertions of Britain in the propagation
of Christianity far exceeded those of all other nations. t can-
not help thinking, Sit, that you Will view with different feel-
ings the marvellous inconsistency, that a people who are will-
ifig to pour forth their treasures, and even their lives, for the
conversion of a few obscure proselytes, shinild shew no dispo-
sition to rescue millions of confirmed and tried Christians from
the most cruel and contemptuous enemy of their faith. You
will easily perceive, thatsl do not write to those whose Chris-
tian sympathies arc confined within the narrow and doubt-
ful limits of orthodoxy—Zcsi.pEr'r Core is ToloS—his services
can only be desirable for the• support of a system of intoler-
ance—for you and other enlightened Christians, I must already
have said enqugh.
It cannot be denied, then, that a most extraordinary com-
bination of circumstances exists, which appears to entitle Greece
more especially to the commiseration of Englana—she seems
to have collected all the scattered rays of interest, and cons
centrated them in a focus of irresistible warmth. NiThile, as if to
ensure the more speedy and effectual kindling of tbe flame,
fortune has brought the two nations into actual contact, by,
placing a part of. Greece itself under British protection. It is
certain, and our history affords a melancholy proof of the fact,
that enormities,' which, if in sight, would excite transports of
horror and indignation, may be tolerated, and even defended,
when committed at a distance. Let us hope that, in this\ case,
the proposition will be reversed, and that the tardy and awk-
ward benevolence, which was so long in reaching the unhappy
natives of Africa, will more speedily overleap the narrow strait
which separates it from the victims of a more monstrous ty-
ranny.
I am far from asserting, Sir, that these two cases bear to each
other any more than a general resemblance; but' there is one
point in which the enemies of the human race have contrived
to make them coincide. We all remember that, amongst the
infamously cruel arguments produced by the defenders of the
traffic to, hich I have alluded, the following was not uncom-
mon—that its miserable objects were incapable of the virtues,
and therefore unworthy of the rights, of civilized man. This
viper race, this noxious and venomous brood of calumniators,
is not yet extinct—and in their impious warfare with improve-
ment of every description, their zeal still supplies them with the
ready artillery of falsehood. 'According to them, the modern
Greeks are, without exception, naturally incapable of a single
virtuous or generous feeling ; they shew no ardour, but in the
pursuit of the most dangerous vices; they arc unfitted even to he
slaves under a mild Government, since the servillity of their
dispositions is more than equalled by their malignity ; they are
incapable of feeling gratitude for the most overwhelming be-
nefits; if you release them•from bondage, you will make them
your implacable enemies; you will give wings to the arrow
which is to drink your blood; these are notthe descendants of the
xvppEc iVictpctOwvolhaxal of the gifted warriors and states-
men of the days of old—they are a sordid, ignorant, grovelling,
yet blood-thirsty race, who can only be prevented from endan-
gering the peace of mankind, by, an organized system of for-
cible and unrelenting coercion. ' Upon opinions like these
they act, and call upon others to follow their example—
the taunt is succeeded by the blow—like the base and cowardly
rabble who mangled the body of the. slaughtered Hector—
to; spa 1-1; eI'7IITX.F Yr,2l OUT"; OG7XE irapao-rac.-
For the atrocious violation of truth contained in these asser-
tions, I might refer to the testimony of the most respectable
individuals, to the notorious fact, that many of the Grecian
youth have lately been educated at the most eminent Conti-
nental Universities, and to the moral impossibility that such a
people could make an united, a steady, and a prolonged effort,
to procure themselves a safe, and rational, and constitutional
liberty. I will, however, for a moment suppose them to .be
founded in fact ; and we shall then see the circle of argument
in which it suits the narrow intellect of despotism to revolve.
" I have reduced a spirited and intelligent people to the most
abject state of subjection ; 1 have crushed them, and ground
them down to the earth : unable to shun or ward off the blows
which I may condescend to inflict,the slaves sometimes venture
to mutter a desire of vengeance, and they only display their
talents in shamelesss endeavour,: to regain by fraud a small
part of that which it has pleased me to take from them by
force. My oppression has caused them to assume the most
odious of vices—but no matter, the vices will serve to justify
the continuance of the oppression." As I can expect nothing
from the man whose understanding does not instantly refute
this argument, I shall not insult the rest of my readers by no-
ticing it further.
I have now, Sir, I believe, established the important fact,
that from the general spirit of the nation, and the high tone
of feeling which animates individuals ; from the glorious
treasures of poetry, and art, and philosophy, which we have
drawn from the rich mine of, Grecian literature ; and from our
transcendent zeal in the cause of Christianity, we are entitled
and bound to lead the nations of the world, in the most righte-
ous cause that ever excited the energies of man. if there be
any who think this distinction unenviable, I must remind them
that they cannot waive it, without at the same time resigning
their supremacy in public and private virtue, in literary and re-
ligious enthusiasm. I confess, Sir, that 1 should be inclined to
reject, even if you should advise, the ignoble sacrifice.
Of 'the adversaries with whom the Greeks are engaged in
this unequal strife I shall say but little—it is not my intention,
I believe it is not My duty, to pronounce a sweeping invective
upon their institutions and religion. But, whatever erroneous
,ideas may be usually mixed up with our tuitions of the Turks,
we justly consider diem as a people capable, when irritated, of
the most inhuman atrocities, and easily inspired with a spirit of
savage fanaticism : it isaperfectly natural that they should de-
fend with fury the Empire of their fathers—it is perfectly tia-
tural that they should see with indignant surprise, like the
Scythians of old, their slaves set in battle array against them—
but it cannot escape a philosopher, that they are asserting, with
outrageous violence, a claim which has no foundation in nature
or civilization—when contrasted with the Greeks, they only ap-
'pear as persecutors raging for their victims—and, as in the fa-
mous parallel of the Athenian moat, we see every vice coin-
batinton the one side, and every virtue on the other.
I must pause here for a mornent, to consider an assertion,
made with the most impressive gravity, and supported by the
allegation of pretended facts—but which I am bound to conas
sider as an invention of unparalleled profligacy. There are
writers who assert that the present Government of England is
unfavoutable to the emancipation of the Greeks ; and they
affirm, as proofs, that it has supplied a besieged Turkish fort-
ress with provisions ; and that it has refused an asylum to
some miserable Grecian fugitives, who had barely escaped the
sword of death, or the chains of slavery. The slenderness and
improbability 61. the facts, is such, that they would hardly af-
ford a pretext for belief to the most designing enemy of our na-
tional fame—much less are they likely to obtain credit with
you, Sir, and with me, who, like Mr. Canning, have cast in our
lot with the British Constitution. I confess that, if by any
possible infatuation I could be induced, even for a moment, to
give credit to the accusation, my constitutional feelings would
receive a iphock from which they could not poSsibly recover—
they would be struck by a thunderbolt which would disperse
and disunite them for ever—how many deeply-rooted preju-
dices would be torn up, and levelled with the dust—how many
fair hopes of universal emancipation, built upon the firmest
basis, would be swallowed up in ruin. I should feel like one
who hears that his dearest friend has been treacherously mur-

dered by his most inveterate enemy, and should pant for an
immediate and indefinite vengeance—
Away to heaven, respective lenity,
And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now !
But we'may spare ourselves the expression of a just and ho-
nourable indignation—the thing is impossible—some base de-
signing knave has forged the tale, in the hope of crushing ris-
ing freedom, and at the same time throwing odium upon that
which has been long established. The proposition involves in-
consistencies, which startle reason ; it implies a sordid selfish-
ness, whichrmakes humanity shudder; against it, argument is
a mere string of truisms, and invective assumes the character
of mitigation, at the bare mention of any thing so execrable

,
and enormous. .
Quis ccelum terris non misceat, et mare coelo ?
In this case, the difference between not preventing the perpe-
tration of a crime, and assisting in.it, is absolutely incalcula-
ble ; the former, indeed, would expose our boastful pretensions
to paramount nobleness of feeling, to the most bitter and in-
sulting scorn—it would be the subject of unceasing and almost
unbearable shame and remorse ; but the latter is a madness of
crime, which would infalliby operate -us a' curse ; it would
make every individual, who should dare to confess that Eng-
land was the country of his birth, be considered as a murderer,
and render us, as a people, deserving of utter and unpitying

extermination.
You will now, Sir, probably ask, and, I confess, with reason,
why, if the expressions which 1 have above used, be justifia-
ble, I have addressed myself to a peaceful and retiring clergy-
man and scholar like yourself, instead of appealing to the
mighty influence of those who sway the destinies of nations, to
the Minister, or even to the King himself. I answer, Sir, that
1 have not the inclination, perhaps not the courage, to enter
upon the 'gloomy and intricate labyrinth of our foreign rela-
tions. I might lose myself inextricably in the devious error of
its windings ; or, if 1 were successful in penetrating it, I
might find, at the conclusion of my labours, some' unnatural
and portentous guardian, who would make me dearly abide
my profligate curiosity. I shall carefully avoid, therefore, such
rash intrusion, and though the interference of our Government
in behalf of the Most injured beings now upon the face of the
earth, is undeniably just and desirable, I will not take upon
me to say that it is possible. The bed-ridden wretch, " whose
fever-weakened joints,, like, strengthless hinges, buckle under
life," will be easily excused from rushing to the cries which
proclaim the outrages of the ravisher, or the assassin. The il-
lustration, I must allow, is a degrading one ; if we are reduced
to a state of utter nervelessness, it is by a process widely diffe-
rent, from that of natural decay ; our vigour has not melted
away slowly and imperceptibly—it has expired in a fierce and
dazzling blaze. Whatever may be the opinions of other na-
tions, we continue to console ourselves by the reflection, that
the struggle, in which our strength departed from us, was not
.
the child of passion or caprice, but the offspring " a para-
mount and unreasoning necessity ;" that our life-blood flowed,
not for fame or empire, but for existence. If this be true, and
I am not permitted to doubt the conviction of a majority of
the British nation, I will leave to others the hypocritical and
malicious lamentation—" that by. the performance of one
duty, we have deprivedourselves of the means of fulfilling every
other; that, to preserve life, we have given all that makes life
worth possessing." It is the great weakness of our nature to
mourn over evils absolutely unavoidable, and in such a case as
this it is not an amiable weakness.
it is certainly a more useful task to inquire, if the description
generally given of our total state of exhaustion may not be qua-
lified by some circumftances which may yet enable us to make
a partial exertion • but in order to accomplish this object, I
must speak more plainly, and descend to more particular facts.
Without refeience to any engagements which our Govern-
ment may have entered into wish the Continental Powers, of
which we are, of course, supposed to be ignorant, I need not
fear to assert, that the question of peace or war is to us, at this
moment, merely financial ; there never was a nation, which in
military and naval skill, in bravery, in mechanical ingenuity,
in short, in all kinds of disposable, physical, and intellectual
force, was more qualified to carry on victorious warfare ; yet 1
believe there are few insults, which even the
_hardiest of our
Statesmen would not advise us to endure submissively, rather
than appeal to the sword. it is certainly consoling to think,'
that the all-consuming' debt, the acknowledged cause of this
compulsive tameness, is also the cause, or rather the test, of
great individual riches. Singularly favoured by circumstances
at this moment, and always exempt from a certain class of
taxes, the public creditor might do much to support the na-
tional honour ; the munificence of private wealth might efface
the stain which has been contracted by the general poverty, and
the strange anomaly which we present to the world might cease
to be dishonourable.
I cannot help now asking you, Sir, whether it has never oc-
curred to you that a very moderate sum of money, a much
smaller sum than might be expected to be raised in such a
country and in such a cause, would be, under their present cir-
cumstances, of incalculable advantage to the Greek patriots ?
lam confident that even now the present of a few thousand
stand of arms, 'and a supply of ammunition, would go a great
way towards securing their independence. It is well known
that, in the beginning of the war, which terminated in the
freedom of America, when the two armies were lying near one
another in a state of inactivity, the Republicans were totally
unprovided with powder, and it was afterwards acknowledged
by. Washington, that, had they then been attacked by the Eng-
'lisn, a superior army in other respects, they must have been de-
stroyed without a blow. It is perfectly must
clear that this is infi-
nitely more likely to happen in the present case ; and it is
equally evident that a trifling exertion of the wealthy in Eng-
land might prevent the possibility of its occurrence. We must
not, we will not, basely suffer these brave assertors of the rights
of man to be delivered up to their executioners in a state of un-
armed helplessness.
Have you considered, Sir, the moral effect which would
be- produced upon the minds of this acute and sensitive peo-
ple, by a comparatively trifling effort of British liberality ?
Menaced with extermination by an overwhelming force, un-
cheered even by the good wishes of the mighty powers, whose
religion they profess, we must expect to see their ardour con-
verted into despair, and their bravery into the most gloomy
atrocity. There is something in the feeling of utter and un-
merited desolation, which debases and hardens the hearts of
nations as well as of individuals ; the most ruthless arc those
who in their lime have sought for pity, and found none. In-
deed, Sir, the smallest manifestation of sympathy on our part,
die barest acknowledgment that we consider the Greeks as our
brethren, would be as a light from Ileaven--sit would exalt as
well as soften the energies of their minds ; at any rates if
not too long delayed, it would save them from withering
under the overpowering feeling of universal and unmitigated
hate.

You have now a right to expect, Sir, that I' should state to
you with precision the particular line of conduct, which, in
my opinion, you should have adopted. I will proceed there-
fore to mention what I think you ought to have done, and still
ought to do. I am not flattering you when I suppose that you pos-.
sess very considerable influence in the University in which you
reside; you have amply earned it by a long and judicious at-
tention to its interests. This, therefore, should have been the
theatre of your first' attempts. You were the proper per-
son to call upon the University collectively, or if that had fail-
ed, upon its members individually, to perform a duty perfectly
conformable with the objects of its institution, and delightfully
harmonizing with its most enthusiastic feelings. You are not
unwilling, when required by your duty, to assume the pen ;
what an appeal might you have composed upon this subject ;
what an opportunity was' presented to you for an honourable
display of refined and classical eloquence. The effect upon
your own University cannot be doubted ; whether her haughty
sister would have condescended to 1911vw her even in the path of
the noblest virtue, I knot, not—but' I recollect that she lately
dogged her steps in a more doubtful track ; and I cannot help
believing that the illustriouslscholars and patriots by whom she
is adorned, would have been inspired with the most ardent
emulation alone ; the tide of bounty, flowing from such sources,
would have received tribute from all that is noble, enlightened,
orehumane, and would have rolled onwards to the scene of
slaughter, carrying hope and courage to tile oppressed upon its
ample bosom.
I shall be not so malicious as to attempt to paint the pure and
splendid reputation which you would have acquired by such an
enterprise—failure could not possibly have disgraced you, and
success would have obtained you a name, only equalled by that
of 'Wilberforce, among the benefactors of mankind. You have
had many distinguished predecessors in the station which
you now fill, but one more particularly, the pride of his Uni-
versity and his country. Yet I may safely affirm that had you
acted in the, manner I have described, your Professorship
would have been more illustrious even than that of Porson.—
What would he, the friend,of every description of liberty, have
given to see this day, upon which you seem to look with such
cold and sullen insensibility ?
I shall not, however, proceed to condemn your conduct,
without considering if it be possible to devise any plausible
matter of excuse or of palliation ; for be assured, sir, that
all my prejudices would lead me rather to applaud than to
censure a person in your situation. I hope I shall never do
either at the expence of truth. It is asserted then by those
who contend that the Greeks have no claims upon our com-
passion," that they are to be considered as subjects in rebel-
lion against the rightful sovereign ; that their mad attempt is
only calculated to throw into confusion the whole of Europe,
and to disturb the existirg state of things, which approaches as
nearly as possible to perfection ; and -they darkly insinuate
that their revolt is no more than an explosion of democratic
principles,. which pervade more or less every country, but are
concealed in many till a more favourable opportunity offers of
hurling don Monarchs from their thrones, and reducing the
human race to a state of savage and-lawless equality.
Alas ! the wretched 'objects of this invective are unable to
comprehend its meaning—they understand not its mysterious

import—they are equally ignorant of Jacobins, Reformers, Li-
berales, and Carbonari ; they feel, indeed, that they are sub-
jected
to a despotism of intolerable weight, 'and they presume
to inquire by what rigid it is imposed upon them ? The stern
answer is ready,—by the right of conquest :—but instinctive
reason then convinces them, that what has been torn from
the owner by brutal violence, may be, and ought to be, recover-
ed by the same means, if there be no other possible method ;
and they reject every argument which is inconsistent with this
first law of nature, as the hateful offspring of abject and trem-
bling servility.
It is possible, Sir, that you may be under the influence of
that morbid fear of democratic encroachment, which has bound
with its spells so many of the spirits of the wise and good, and
has forced the firmest friends of Freedom, by its baleful delu-
sions, to plunge their daggers into her heart. But the time is
nearly arrived when the incantations of this blood-stained hag
must cease ; her abominations are become the scandal and exe-
crat on of the world,
Canidia, parce vocibus tandem sacris,
Citumque retro solve, solve; turbinem

It is true, indeed, that a knowledge of the real principles of
government, those principles which England was the first to
practise, is rapidly diffusing itself; and shall we be so in•
credibly selfish as to endeavour to impede its progress ?
Base as the attempt would be, it would be still More vain
and fruitless. The devouring blaze of legitimacy is rapidly
sinking into a pale and flickering flame ; and woe to those
who continue to guide their steps by its faint and ominous
light ! We may hope to see the absolute. monarchies of the
earth subside, one after the other, into representative govern-
ments, equally removed from the despotism of the one and of
the many—and the tranquillity of the world may be secured
upon the basis of the admirable maxim lately laid down by an
enlightened statesman, " that to rebel against freedom is the
greatest crime—to rebel against tyranny the greatest virtue !" '
But I believe, Sir, I must be mistaken in supposing you to
be moved by such pitiful arguments : is it possible, then, that
you can fear the snarling growl, or the ve,oulous bite, of the
creatures that use them ? It is certainly probable that you
would not entirely escape their malice—some peculiarity of your
person or manner would be served up to the weekly appetite of
malignity as a delicate morsel, after its more substantial repast
upon insulted honour or traduced chastity. All I can say is,
that, if you dread such attacks as these, you must never think
of attempting any public good—it will be dangerous to be too
active even in private charity.
Though I have selected you, from your office as Professor,
and from the high dignity which you hold in the church, as
the most proper person to address in behalf of Greeks and
Christians, yet lam far from meaning to assert that you are
culpable, alone, or even more so than Professor Gaisford, and
the other eminent scholars of both Universities. Why do we
hear nothing now of the heroes who appeared to the world to
have devoted their lives to the service of Greece—do they
shrink in the hour of need ? Will they tamely see some inferior
warrior, some Menelaus of literature, risk his reputation in a
cause worthy of the noblest, and in which they were sure to
have triumphed ? If this be really their intention, I feel con-
vinced that that generous champion, whoever he may be, will
not fail to dismiss them with the humiliating, yet appropriate
wish—

ANA UthEic 1.1,5 V 'rani; acop xtzi yam ygvesAE,
Hittsvor cool Exacrret, astriptet, otxAssc carrwc.
The age of Dr. Parr,. that veteran, who has seen more than
one generation of critics, may well excuse him from mingling
in the conflict; but I am convinced that it has not so far
deadened the feelings of his ardent and patriotic mind, as
to render him insensible to the degeneracy of his feeble succes-
sors. He may, probably, wish, like Peleus, to take refuge in
the grave from the painful and degrading spectacle.
I have now, Sir, to perform the more pleasing task of paying
a sincere tribute of applause to some individuals of less cele-
brity, who, though they have not organized any comprehensive
plan of assistance, have, at least, made isolated efforts in be-
half of distress deserted by its natural protectors. I shall single
out one who was early in the field, a member, I believe, of your
own society ; his generous conduct may have clashed with the
rules of an antiquated institution.; but 1 must be allowed to
hope, for the sake of the eminent individuals engaged in it,
that he acted in a manner conformable with its spirit. lam
happy to say, that while I am writing, the number of such
men is continually increasing ; but I am yet unable to find
in the honourable list the names of those who stand fore-
most as scholars. The inhabitants of an inconsiderable
town petition Parliament to protect Greece from being made
a desert, and her inhabitants hunted like wild beasts from
the earth—the Professors, the Commentators, though called
upon to raise their voites by every tie of gratitude and en-
thusiasm, are silent. What, can you expect us to answer, then,
when you claim, by the dignity of your situations, and the
splendour of your attainments, our respect and reverence ?
That you are unworthy of the double share, which we, imitat-
ing the example of the ancients, were willing to allow the
learned in our feasts 'if—that your external appearance of taste
and refinement conceals sordid and interested dispositions—that,
instead of inspiredsworshiPpers in the temple of genius, you
are mere hirelings, that swell the pomp of the procession, and
partake in the spoils Of the sacrifice. Are you, after all, no-
thing more than a band of (TtelEr.7l.l-wv 'Oriffrof,ES) whose
hearts are benumbed and contracted by the painful and barren
toil ? I will never believe it—l am confident that you will yet
shew by your actions the falsehood of such outrageous asper-
sions, and make us cast to the winds ideas which arc equally
injurious to you and to ourselves.
But even should this be the case, 1 shall only feel myself cal-
led upon to retract a small part of my censure. Should the
slumbering virtue of the nation arise, and ultimately, as it must
do, drag you with it, your situation will still be far from
glorious—you will be a weight, a drag, an ocOxta qoAxic
upon public opinion, instead of being the spring which sets it
in motion—instead of leading the van of the army, you will be
goaded on in its rear like forlorn and overwearied captives
—you are too late to acquire fame, but it is something to pre-
vent your characters from becoming irretrievably infamous.
We are necessarily so ignorant of many of the circumstances
of the war, and its features are so rapidly changing, that it is
impossible to speak with any certainty as to the termination of
the contest : it seems but too probable, however, that unless
speedy and effectual assistance be afforded, the desolation of
Scio will be extended over the whole of the most lovely of coun-
tries ; that the greater part of the inhabitants will perish, and
the survivors be reduced to a state of slavery that might justify
the melancholy custom of the-ancient Thracians, the mourning
over the new-born, and the rejoicing over the dead. There can
be no doubt that, if this be the close of the bloody scene, we
shall be devoured by bitter and unavailing regret—we shall
look back with the deepest Jiorror and remorse upon our incom-
prehensible apathy—we shall bewail the memory of Patriots,
whose labours we ought to have shared—we shall adorn the
tomb of a nation which we ought to have rescued from death.
lnnubet tepido pellex Cornelia busto.

* Lucian. Chronosolon. 'rots 7avoci3EU ILE', al 64tAacria
irxv,rx irEpinEa-Ow, cciov 7ccg 6tihotfirocc

CHELTENHAM, AUGUST I.—A subscription has
been opened for Mr. GREEN (and family,) and
the list of subscribers is not only numerous,
but its amount is considerable. A report has
just been received that the balloon has been
taken up at Woodstock, and that it is very little
injured. Mr. Green's wife and son are here, and
their distress 'is beyond description. A report
was brought this morning into the town, by a
farmer, that Mr. Green was dead ; but within
the last hour, the surgeon, Mr. Murly, has arriv;.
ed with intelligence of both of the Gentlemen
being much better.

Snow ra OF .SNAILS.—The Cheltenham Chro-
nicle says—" A few days since a shower of snails
was observed to fall on a piece of ground
nearly opposite Jersey Villa, near Cheltenham.
Several of them were picked up by Mr. FREE-
MAN, a surgeon of this town, who kindly permits
the curious to inspect them."
Pious ROBBERY.—Thursday evening, while
Mr. Bassett, of Dean-street, Soho, was engaged
with his family in the upper part of the house, an
elderly woman contrived to enter the place, -and
steal from the parlour two books, which were ly-
ing on a table, the one Fox's Book of Martyrs, and
a Family Bible. The robbery was discovered al-
most immediately after it was perpetrated, and
an alarm was given, when it was ascertained,
that three men and an old woman were seen lurk-
ing about the house, and not far from the spot the
old woman was discovered with one of the books.
She was immediately taken to the watchhouse, by
Gook, .a constable, and yesterday examined at
Marlborough-stre.et) when she was remanded,