1828. ] his Eloise, and Confessions. : 619 
refinements of morality in the grossness of an ad libitum intercourse 
with the fairer sex, and visited only with condemnation an uncouth per- 
son, bad address, churlish temper, or clownish dialect. At such a demo- 
ralized period—the necessary precursor of a revolution which should 
clear the polluted atmosphere—a man of first rate ability, a pander to the 
elegant sensuality of the age (which, according to Burke, lost “ half its 
danger in losing all its grossness”), and an unflinching philosopher of the 
hew school, was not likely to pass unnoticed. Rousseau felt this, wrote 
accordingly, and rendered himself immortal and a wretch. The secret of 
his success he has himself explained in a published conversation with 
Burke, wherein he observes, that finding that the old vehicle of literature 
was crazy and worn out, he took upon himself the task of renewing the 
springs, repainting the panels, and gilding the whole machine afresh. 
In other words, he resolved to extend the pathetic, deepen the unsocial, 
and pervert what little was left, of moral and religious sensibility among 
his countrymen. In this he too happily succeeded ; but what were the 
penalties he paid for such success? The answer is tremendous! A 
shipwrecked character—a broken heart—a brilliant but unenviable 
immortality. 
One word more. Rousseau has been frequently styled the champion, 
the apostle of freedom. Mr. Hazlitt, in particular, who in his clouded 
moments has much of his manner, has thus loved to designate him. 
This is certainly a saving clause, with nothing to disturb its effect but 
the circumstance of its utter falsity. The philosopher’s independence, 
like his sentiment, was purely a factitious feeling. It was not the healthy, 
progressive growth of reason, but the forced production of sophistry, 
It could stoop to be the slave of the most effeminate, demoralizing vices, 
-and—to adopt a sportsman’s phrase—was begot by Irritability out of 
Selfishness and Egotism. Far different is the nature of the true apostle 
of liberty. The materials of his magnanimity originate with himself, 
they are beams reflected from the sunny purity of his own heart, and are 
mixed up with, and give a tone and colouring to, his most trifling actions. 
To be the true asserter of public freedom, the man himself must be 
free. No unworthy suspicions, no rash misanthropy, no prurient fancies, 
no truckling to sensuality, simply because it is clothed in the borrowed 
robes of sentiment, must be permitted to interfere with, or influence his 
opinions. His mind must tower above the ordinary level of mankind, 
as much in conduct as in intellect. It is not enough that he possess the 
ability to discuss ; he must add the heart to feel and the disposition to 
practise, the mighty principle in its minutest as well as in its most com- 
prehensive sense, for by the union of worth and genius alone—either of 
which, when disjoined, is useless—is the world’s conviction ensured. 
Milton, whose ethics were so sublime, whose daily habits were so stain- 
less, spoke from the heart when he declared himself the sworn foe to 
despotism ; the Tell of private life gave abundant evidence of the public 
patriot ; the moral influence of Washington as a dictator, was the neces- 
sary consequence of his worth as a man ; but Rousseau, though he fled 
from clime to clime the fancied martyr to his virtue and his indepen- 
denée, wrote only from the promptings of an excited, a distrustful, and 
a dissatisfied mind. D. 
° 4K 2 
