backs, arising out of actual
circumstances and prevailing opinions, or the frailties of human nature.
He has a great range of knowledge, an incessant activity of mind; but
the suspension of his judgment, the well-balanced moderation of his
sentiments, is the consequence of the very discursiveness of his reason.
What may be considered as _a commonplace_ conclusion is often the result
of a comprehensive view of all the circumstances of a case. Paradox,
violence, nay even originality of conception is not seldom owing to our
dwelling long and pertinaciously on some one part of a subject, instead
of attending to the whole. Mr. Jeffrey is neither a bigot nor an
enthusiast. He is not the dupe of the prejudices of others, nor of his
own. He is not wedded to any dogma, he is not long the sport of any
whim; before he can settle in any fond or fantastic opinion, another
starts up to match it, like beads on sparkling wine. A too restless
display of talent, a too undisguised statement of all that can be said
for and against a question, is perhaps the great fault that is to be
attributed to him. Where there is so much power and prejudice to contend
with in the opposite scale, it may be thought that the balance of truth
can hardly be held with a slack or an even hand; and that the infusion
of a little more visionary speculation, of a little more popular
indignation into the great Whig Review would be an advantage both to
itself and to the cause of freedom. Much of this effect is chargeable
less on an Epicurean levity of feeling or on party-trammels, than on
real sanguineness of disposition, and a certain fineness of professional
tact. Our sprightly Scotchman is not of a desponding and gloomy turn of
mind. He argues well for the future hopes of mankind from the smallest
beginnings, watches the slow, gradual, reluctant growth of liberal
views, and smiling sees the aloe of Reform blossom at the end of a
hundred years; while the habitual subtlety of his mind makes him
perceive decided advantages where vulgar ignorance or passion sees only
doubts and difficulty; and a flaw in an adversary's argument stands him
instead of the shout of a mob, the votes of a majority, or the fate of
a pitched battle. The Editor is satisfied with his own conclusions, and
does not make himself uneasy about the fate of mankind. The issue, he
thinks, will verify his moderate and well-founded expectations.--We
believe also that late events have given a more decided