are always matched; the thorn grows with the rose, the poison tree and the cinnamon mingle their boughs.  Persia, with its cloth of gold, marble halls, and infinite wealth, is now a tomb.  The tent of the Arab is fallen in the sands, and his horse spurns the ground unbridled and unsaddled.  The voice of lamentation fills the valley of Cashmere; its dells and woods, its cool fountains, and gardens of roses, are polluted by the dead; in Circassia and Georgia the spirit of beauty weeps over the ruin of its favourite temple—­the form of woman.

Our own distresses, though they were occasioned by the fictitious reciprocity of commerce, encreased in due proportion.  Bankers, merchants, and manufacturers, whose trade depended on exports and interchange of wealth, became bankrupt.  Such things, when they happen singly, affect only the immediate parties; but the prosperity of the nation was now shaken by frequent and extensive losses.  Families, bred in opulence and luxury, were reduced to beggary.  The very state of peace in which we gloried was injurious; there were no means of employing the idle, or of sending any overplus of population out of the country.  Even the source of colonies was dried up, for in New Holland, Van Diemen’s Land, and the Cape of Good Hope, plague raged.  O, for some medicinal vial to purge unwholesome nature, and bring back the earth to its accustomed health!

Ryland was a man of strong intellects and quick and sound decision in the usual course of things, but he stood aghast at the multitude of evils that gathered round us.  Must he tax the landed interest to assist our commercial population?  To do this, he must gain the favour of the chief land-holders, the nobility of the country; and these were his vowed enemies—­he must conciliate them by abandoning his favourite scheme of equalization; he must confirm them in their manorial rights; he must sell his cherished plans for the permanent good of his country, for temporary relief.  He must aim no more at the dear object of his ambition; throwing his arms aside, he must for present ends give up the ultimate object of his endeavours.  He came to Windsor to consult with us.  Every day added to his difficulties; the arrival of fresh vessels with emigrants, the total cessation of commerce, the starving multitude that thronged around the palace of the Protectorate, were circumstances not to be tampered with.  The blow was struck; the aristocracy obtained all they wished, and they subscribed to a twelvemonths’ bill, which levied twenty per cent on all the rent-rolls of the country.  Calm was now restored to the metropolis, and to the populous cities, before driven to desperation; and we returned to the consideration of distant calamities, wondering if the future would bring any alleviation to their excess.  It was August; so there could be small hope of relief during the heats.  On the contrary, the disease gained virulence, while starvation did its accustomed work.  Thousands died unlamented; for beside the yet warm corpse the mourner was stretched, made mute by death.