It appears that a bill having been brought into parliament for a change in the mode of representation, Mr. Windnam, on the 26th of May, 1809, made, in opposition to it, a very able speech, which, being published, came under the consideration of the Edinburgh Reviewers, who, in the preliminary observations to their criticism on it, gave the following character of that illustrious personage.

"The speech before us is not only the production of one of the "finest geniuses, and most honourable men that the world ever "saw, but it is almost the latest memorial by which his splendid "talents and manly virtues have left themselves to be remember"ed. The age which has witnessed the eclipse of the ancient splen"dor and independence of Europe, seems also to be that in which "the heroic age of England is doomed to become extinct and to 66 perish. The mighty minds of Burke and Fox and Pitt and Nelson "have been withdrawn, in our own times, from the degraded scene "of our affairs, and almost the last star in that great constellation "set at the death of Mr. Windham,-a death which has deprived "his country of its most perfect model of a gentleman, and left "both friends and enemies to deplore that generous and romantic 66 gallantry of feeling, which gave a certain chivalrous elevation "to all his views and acting, those beautiful accomplishments "which embellished the whole society in which he lived,—that fine "and graceful wit, which fascinated those who were the most adverse to his principles, and bound, as with a spell, the very men "who were the most aware of its seductions, that hightempered "honour and unsullied purity, which were never questioned even "by the calumniating zealots of reform, and emerged unspotted "s even from their monstrous alliance with the creatures of corrup❝tion. A better opportunity, we hope, will soon arise, for attempt"ing to delineate the intellectual character of this extraordinary 66 person. But it is not without its use, even at present, to dwell a "little upon some of its most singular features; on the strange " opposition which seemed occasionally to subsist between his "genius and opinions-his principles and his prejudices. It is an "act, indeed, of essential justice to the public to endeavour to "counteract any errors that may have been spread abroad under "the sanction of that respected name;-to prescribe bounds to an "admiration, which can only be carried to excess when it con"founds his character and his accomplishments with his tenets,"and, above all, to unmask the mean arts of those priests of cor

"ruption, who would trick out their idol in his mantle, and shield "themselves behind the authority of one who was not their bitterest

enemy only because he could not be persuaded to believe in their "integrity, who of all the men that ever lived in the world of po"litics, viewed public profligacy, and every sort of baseness, with "the greatest loathing and abhorrence."

We are free to avow our heartfelt love and veneration for the illustrious name of Windham,-a love and a veneration which neither lapse of time, nor change of circumstances, can possibly impair, being first built on the adamantine foundation of that great man's exalted virtues and talents; and afterwards cemented by gratitude for honours and benefits, of which to be ever unmindful, would be profligacy beyond the largest measure of allowance which human charity can be expected to make for human wickedness.

Of attachment to such a man, independent of all personal feelings, who is he that need be ashamed?-Rather indeed what man, having pretensions to taste, but must be ashamed not to admire those astonishing mental powers,-that splendid yet robust wit, which could, at will, transform itself from the most fascinating playfulness, to the keenest satire,-those uncommon reasoning faculties, -that penetration, sagacity and prescience bordering on inspiration, that deep knowledge in all the sciences, that immense range of critical erudition, and all the other accomplishments, which drew, from one of the most learned men that ever lived, an application to Mr. Windham of these beautiful lines of the poet:

Ingenium cui dîis, et mens contermina cœlo
Cuncta unus, cunctos unus erat.

If we mistake not, it is Quintilian who, speaking of Tully, says "ille se multum in literis proficisse sciat, cui Cicero valde placuerit." It might seem to argue vanity therefore, and look like the affectation of a degree of learning, to which we are not weak enough to aspire, if we were to rest our admiration of Mr. Windham on his superior intellectual endowments. In their vast extent, they were far out of the reach of any but the most profoundly learned. Not so his virtues:-These even he himself could not but know. His stern integrity, his high and unsullied honour,-his disinterestedness and magnanimity,-his purity, for an equal to him in which we should in vain search through the records of ancient

and modern times, may surely be admired and eulogized by us who have witnessed their exercise and experienced their effects, when they have extorted acknowledgment from his political opponents, and praise even from his enemies. Yet did those rancorous jugglers with truth, as incapable of estimating his value as of looking with open eyes at the blaze of the noonday sun, endeavour to dim the lustre which they could not obscure, by hinting that his virtues were carried too far; and, being afraid to say any thing worse of him, called him inflexible, severe, a stoic, a Cato, and jargon of that kind, whereby they wilfully sunk what was well understood by all who knew him-namely, that he was as mild as he was firm, and that, that very heart which nature had qualified to purge` a commonwealth with the address of a Solon and the inflexibility of a Lycurgus, to thunder in the field of war, or carry destruction through the armed fleets of enemies, if called to it by his country's good, or the felicity of the human race, was alive to all the finer feelings, filled brimful and over, with the tender charities, and possessed, to an eminent extent, of the several virtues (in no other man perhaps ever united) which, in their public exercise, serve to protect mankind, and in their private to be a comfort and a blessing to those who come within their influence-all, in a gentle gradation, according to the objects to which they were applicable, shaded imperceptibly from the strict and rugged discipline of inexorable justice, down through the manly kindnesses, to those softer sympathies which honour the gentler sex, and even to the playful simplicity of the child. Such was WILLIAM WINDHAM!!—But enough!-the subject grows too big for us-we must drop it!Farewel then, great and glorious being!-Be thou blest, even as thou hast blessed!-- -Accept, from one of the multitude whose lives expended in tears for thy loss would not half pay the debt they owe thee,-accept this poor tribute;-poor-but genuine, and not the last:- -No, never the last, while one beat more of life remains to this heart.

Jamque dies, ni fallor, adest quem semper acerbum
Semper honoratum, sic dii voluistis, habebo.

FOR THE MIRROR OF TASTE.

You doubtless imagine, Mr. Editor, that I am sadly mortified at the contempt manifested by the public, on reading my last communication. Far different are my sensations I assure you: I know too well the ordinary fates of genius, to suffer impressions so derogatory to its dignity. Milton's immortal poem, his Paradise Lost, was never regarded with reverence until his death, and from that hour to this, it has been considered as the standard of English epic. Shakspeare never dreamed of the popularity his plays were destined to obtain. The death of their author put the seal of immortality upon them. In like manner I sit, and with vast satisfaction contemplate how avaricious posterity will be to read and to admire the profound lucubrations of Simon Shadow. While my page is read and hissed at by those who are now incompetent to discover its internal merits, I revenge myself by considering the time not far distant when these, my essays, will make a neat, pretty, well bound volume for a circulating library; thumbed by the hands of enraptured beauty; ogled by the spectacles of age, and doated on by the eyes of the student, as if fearful that a particle of such a treasure should be lost. After I have thus refreshed myself with this spectacle, I have meditated on the season as equally certain when some humbler retainer of letters, will delight both himself and the community, by the publication of a volume, intitled Beauties of Simon Shadow. All this, my readers will observe, is part of my present plan. The difference, therefore, between Shakspeare and myself consists in this, that he did not intend his works for posterity, and that I do. I leave it for any one to determine, whether this point cannot be proved with mathematic demonstration; viz. if a work that was not written for the admiration of future ages is admired by them, a work written professedly for that purpose, must infallibly receive that admiration. I deem it both modest and correct to make this express avowal, so that posterity may have a clew to be guided in their selection of the works which they read. But sir, my plan extends much deeper than my own individual self. There is another important personage in our family, who as yet is unknown to the world. I merely designed myself as the morning star, to twinkle as the harbinger of his approaching orb. With suitable solemnity I now introduce to the public my revered and much beloved uncle Jehosophat Shadow, esq. This eminent

character whose life was devoted to letters, was peculiarly fond of the pages of Shakspeare. He was none of those vulgar readers that look for a meaning on the surface: on the contrary, he delved deep and found recondite pearls; he was an expert diver in the literary stream, and remained long under water. With the most painful and laborious industry, he investigated and explored the bottom, and opened every species of literary shelfish, in the hope of discovering some latent pearl in its belly. He laid it down as an axiom, that a genius so profound as Shakspeare would despise the thought of writing what could be discovered by ordinary minds, and maintained that literary as well as natural pearls possessed too much inherent value to swim upon the surface. Often have I seen his venerable locks bent over the page of Shakspeare, and his brows crooked with anxiety in investigating a passage, where persons of smaller intellects would have thought the meaning palpable, so that his nose which was remarkably prominent and sagacious, would be endangered by the contact. He acquired his blindness by black letter readings, but blindness was unable to destroy his vivida vis animi; for amid such stores of ancient learning as his tenacious memory had acquired, he could revolve the various passages and compare them with old ballads and venerable readings. His veneration for this species of literature was unbounded; there was not an old trunk within fifty miles of our dwelling, whose inside he had not scrutinized to discover the meaning of Shakspeare, and whenever the traces of an aged print could be discovered, his joy was unbounded. Fearful that the precious relic should receive still further injury by an attempt to remove it from its place, he purchased the trunk, and had the same carefully deposited in his study. In process of time these articles multiplied so fast, that his study was denominated the trunk-maker's shop. Never shall I forget the brilliancy of the figure by which in conversation with me, he testified his reverence for the bard of Avon. One critic, he exclaimed, compared Shakspeare to the sun, another to the moon, and another to the seven stars; but I say (mark, Mr. Editor, the emphasis of that I!) I say he resembles the sun, moon and seven stars shining all at once. This was said, sir, with eyes that beamed animation through his spectacles and pronounced with that authoritative and decisive tone that true genius, above all rivalry, can only hope to maintain. Sun, moon and stars, shining all at once! what splendor of fancy! And yet sir, I have reason to believe, and I have the assurance of