too, after making large allowance for occasional crudity, perversion, inconsistency, or flippancy. The same observation applies to their articles, often equally interesting and masterly, on newly-arrived foreign intelligence. Conceive the extent to which such a writer, such a journal must influence public opinion, and gradually and unconsciously bias the minds of even able and thinking readers. Engaged actively in their own concerns all day long, they have too often neither the inclination nor opportunity for sifting the sophistries, skilfully intermingled with just and brilliant reasoning, and disguised under splendid sarcasm and powerful invective. How, again, can they test the accuracy of historical and political references and assertions, if happening to lie beyond their own particular acquisitions and recollections? The other side of the question, such a one is aware, will probably be found in the _Chronicle_ or _Standard_, the _Times_ or _Globe_, _Sun_ or _Herald_ respectively, whose business it is to be continually on the watch for each other's lapses, to detect and expose them. To what does all this lead but the formation of an indolent habit of acquiescence in other men's opinions--a hasty, superficial acquaintance with _pros_ and _cons_, upon even the gravest question propounded by other men--a heedless, universal _taking upon trust_, instead of that salutary jealousy, vigilance, and independence, which insists in every thing, upon weighing matters in the balances of one's own understanding? Many a man is reading these sentence who knows that they are telling the truth; and doubtless he will be for the future upon his guard, resolved not to surrender his independence of judgement, or suffer his faculties to decay through inaction.--But, bless me! this glorious morning is slipping away. I hear Tickler scratching at the door. I shut up my writing-case, don my coat, hat, and walking-stick, and away to the shore. Scarcely have I got upon the sands, when behold, floating majestically past me, at little more than a mile's distance, the magnificent _St Vincent_ (one hundred and twenty guns.) There's a line-of-battle ship for you! I take off my hat involuntarily in the presence of our Naval Majesty. I gaze after her with those feelings and thoughts of fond pride and exultation which gush over the heart of an Englishman looking at one of HIS MEN-OF-WAR! Well--superb St Vincent, you have now rounded the corner, and are out of sight; but I remain riveted to the spot with folded arms, and ask of our naval rulers, with a certain stern anxiety, a question, which I shall throw into the striking language of Mr Canning--"Are _you_, my Lords and Gentlemen, _silently concentrating the force to be put forth on an adequate occasion_?" Who can tell how soon that adequate occasion will present itself? Is the peace of Europe at this moment so profound, is our own position so satisfactory and impregnable, that we may wisely and safely