ABSTRACT
The family of the Publicolæ are surely very numerous. I pretend to no acquaintance with them, and I desire none. Far be it from me therefore to assign to any one of the fraternity his particular lucubration. I do not presume to say, for instance, that such a piece was written by Ben, or such a one by Robin; but I can plainly distinguish, in their productions, a difference of style and character. In some, I feel myself lulled by a regular, mild, and frequently languid harangue; such as often descends upon us from the pulpit. In others, I observe a crude, incoherent, rough, inaccurate, but sometimes sprightly declamation; well enough fitted for popular assemblies, where the majority is already convinced.
