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would not have been in a worse condition; and it is even problematical whether it would have been in so bad a one; for Carthage would have hardly risked the invasion of Italy a second time. It was one of those enterprizes, which confound common calculations, and are alone justified by sucIt was, in a word, one of the boldest, and yet one of the most prudent adventures, recorded in all history.
por; it broke the mighty charm of Freuch invincibility and evidently prepared all those great results which have since changed the face of the political world.
This last battle has led to more important consequences, than any perhaps recorded in history; and it is a curious coincidence in the lives of these great Generals, that Waterloo is now, as Zama was during the lifetime of Scipio, a subject for detraction to those who were in the habit of predicting irretrievable defeat instead of victory. But these exhalations of ignorance and malice are only the forerunners of that bright historical day in which the achieve ments of Wellington will appear with unclouded lustre. Such a display of talents for war as Wellington has given, reflects a lasting honour upon his nation, and is one of the most signal favours which Providence can confer upon a country. It has a tutelary, instead of a destructive charac
be fairly ascribed the dignified repose, the profound security, the plans of retrenchment, and the hopes of reviving prosperity, which now so happily and unexpect edly distinguish our beloved country.
Wellington has this in common with Scipio, that his success astonished his countrymen, and far exceeded their hopes. When he carried the war into Spain, the Continent lay prostrate under the feet of Buonaparte. Hope was almost extinct, in every bosom. It was considered madness to oppose a torrent, which swept away every obstacle with incredible fury. Spain was dejected by her reverses, and showed several signs of lukewarmness in the cause. The rest of the Continent looked upon the contest as a wanton and useless prolonga-ter; and to the genius of Wellington may tion of hostilities. England herself maintained the contest from a point of honour more than from a hope of final success. She was partly influenced in her conduct at that memorable period by the magnanimity of her character, and partly by the policy, that it was better to fight the enemy at a distance from home, than to have her shores exposed to the constant menace of invasion. But she had no great confidence in the results. Her General, however, continued undisturbed in the prosecution of his mighty plan. He was rapid, or slow, bold or cautious, aggressive or defensive, as circumstances required; but when his operations appeared to have a doubtful character they were regulated with a view to the movements of the allies in Spain and Germany, in whose favour he wished to make a diversion. Upon these occasions he was obliged to risk much, and to swerve from the severer rules of the art. But whenever he acted independently of those motives, and solely in the prosecution of his own plan, his arrangements were uniformly made and executed with the skill of a cousummate master of the art. He displayed, during that memorable period, a force of character, a constancy of purpose, and a variety of resources, which raise our wonder the more we contemplate them. His success roused the Continent from its stu
In one point, the parallel between Scipio and Wellington, it is to be hoped, will never bear the most distant affinity. The treatment of Scipio by his countrymen was an act of ingratitude, for which there could be no excuse, and for which no indulgence has been shown by after ages. It has been ever since mentioned with unqualified censure; and as it formed an exception in the conduct of that people, it can be accounted for only on the supposition, that Scipio was too great for his age, and that his character was too lofty for the standard of Roman feeling and judgment. It raises, however, the merit of the man, and proves, beyond the possibility of contradiction, that the defeat of such an antagonist as Hannibal, belongs to Scipio, without participation on the part of his country. There was a wonderful elevation, besides a number of distinctive features in the character of this Roman. He seemed to be fully conscious that his country owed more to him than he did to his country; and though his great mind was, no doubt, indignant at the triumphs of the Carthaginians, it ceased to feel the violent enmity of his countrymen,
as soon as the cause of their fears were removed. His victories bore all the marks of this elevated feeling; and he is the only Roman who did not consider that success gave him a right to dictate cruel and insult ing terms of submission. In all his military achievements, clemency was a prominent feature ; and it was incredibly height-gency was necessary to the developement
ter, Wellington would not have have probably had an opportunity of developing the full resources of his genius, without an event which happened at an early period of his command in the Peninsula. It may be said, without incurring the suspicion of courtly panegyric, that the era of the Re
ened by the contrast presented in the conduct of all the other Roman Generals. His mode of waging hostilities was marked by the humanity by which modern warfare is distinguished; and his magnanimity, as compared with that of Cæsar, had this difference, that in him it was natural and uniform; on the part of the Dictator, artificial and capricious.
of his genius, and the full growth of his fame. It is more than doubtful whether the same favourable and fostering circumstances would have occurred at any previous period during this, or the last reign. Jus tice likewise requires, that grateful mention should be made of the share which the illustrious person, who is at the head of the army, has had in raising that imperishable fabric of glory which has been constructed by British courage, patriotism, and genius, in our time.
Wellington has been more fortunate: his exploits have had more discriminating judges and a more grateful public. His country has a right to share in the lustre of his successes, because she is sensible of their value. Merit cannot meet more impartial judges or more warm advocates than the British public. This circumstance is also the chief secret of their power, and the most solid pledge of its continuauce. Yet with this happy peculiarity in their charac
HISTORY OF REGENCIES.
In these remarks, reference has only been made to Wellington as a General. The time is not come to do justice to him as a man; but he has displayed so much wisdom in all the relations of life, that it is probable his reputation, when history shall fix his character, will appear as excellent in a private, as in a public capacity.
THE first Regency that we find after, sented to them, "That though the conduct the Conquest, was in the year 1216.- of the late King had given the confederated When King John died, he left the kingdom Barons a pretence for complaining, it was in a most critical situation; his eldest son not reasonable to take the crown from a and beir, Henry III. was only ten years of family which had worn it so long, much age; the army of the crown consisted of less to give it to a foreigner: that King foreign mercenaries, who could not feel for John's faults being personal, it would be the interest of England, and could not be unjust to punish the Priuce, his son, for much relied upon the heir to the crown them, whose tender age secured him from of France had been called into England by all imputations on that score.-That the a great body of the English Barons, who remedy made use of by the confederated adhered to him, and acknowledged him as Barons, was worse than the discase, since their King. it tended to reduce the kingdom under a shameful servitude; and therefore in the present posture of affairs, nothing was able to deliver them from the impending yoke, but their firm union under a Prince, who was, beyond all doubt, the lawful heir to the crown."
In this extremity of affairs, the wise and gallant William Marshal, Earl of Pembroke, not despairing of the common weal, undertook to support young Henry, to drive the French out of Englaud, and restore the monarchy to its former splendour.
With this view he convened the Lords who had followed the fortune of King John, and presenting young Henry to them, he said, behold your King. He then repre- " The coronation ceremony was performed at No. 117.-Vol. XVIII.
This speech was received with general applause, and the Lords cried out, with one voice, We will have Henry for our King.
Gloucester with little pomp, by the Bishops of Bath and Winchester, in the presence of an inconsiderable number of Lords, with Gallo, the Pope's Legate, who, by order of his master, espoused young Henry's cause; the Archbishop of Canterbury was then at Rome. King John's crown having been lost in the well-stream, the Lords were obliged to make use of a plain circle, or chaplet of gold, which served at this in-government, aud ruled the state by her auguration instead of a crown. minister and favourite Mortimer, until the King, at the age of eighteen, assumed the reigns of government, with the consent of a parliament, held at London; and reigned without a Regent.
of Edward III.; and in compliance with the law, which required that a minor King should have guardians, and the state during the minority, Regents, made choice of twelve from among the Bishops, Earls, and Barons, of whom Heury Earl of Lancaster, a Prince of the blood, descended from Henry III. was declared the president. The Queen-mother, however, seized the
The ceremony being over, the assembly of the Lords, who at that time represented the whole nation, chose the Earl of Pembroke, guardian to the King, and Protector and Regent of the kingdom. These offices he held till the year 1219, when he died, to the great grief of the whole kingdom, which he had freed from slavery. His body lies buried in the Temple church, London, where his effigy, in a coat of mail, is still to be seen in the ground.
He was succeeded in the office of Regent by Peter des Roches or de Rupibus, Bishop of Winchester. The appointment of the latter was by the authority of parliament.
Hubert de Burgo (the ancestor of the Burkes, Earls of Clanricarde, of Mayo, &c.) was, by the same authority, made Chief Justiciary of England, or, as it were, the Lord Lieutenant of the kingdom under the Regent. This Lord finding the Regent an obstacle in his way, got the Pope to issue a bull, declaring the King of full age, when in fact he had not completed his seventeenth year. The King's majority would of course have put an end to the authority and office of the Regent, but the Barons declared they would pay no regard whatever to the bull, because it was directly contrary to the laws of the land, by which the King could not be considered as of age till he was twenty-one.
In 1226 a parliament was held, in which the King was, as it were, by a new law declared by the authority of that assembly to be of age, though he was only turned of twenty; and here, of course, ended the minority and Regency together.
The next Regency was in the beginning of the reign of Edward III. after the deposition of his father Edward II. The parliament, as soon as their commissioners returned from Kenelworth Castle with the resignation of Edward II., caused his son to be immediately proclaimed King, by the name
When Richard II. succeeded at the age of eleven to his grandfather Edward III. the Duke of Lancaster, uncle to the young King, assumed the name and authority of Regent, till the parliament met. The first care of that body was to settle the administration of affairs during the King's minority. To that purpose they appointed several governors to the King, to take care of his education; and ordered that his three uncles, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, Edmund de Langley, Earl of Cambridge, afterwards Duke of York, and Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Buckingham, and afterwards Duke of Gloucester, should be Regents of the kingdom; but they joined with them some Bishops and lay-lords: this precaution was taken on account of the danger there might be in trusting the person and affairs of a minor King to the sole management of his nearest relations, who in the administration might have self-interested views.-This was a great mortifica. tion to the three Princes. <h¢Ü་> sRasz
The favourites of the young King soon succeeded in driving the Princes from the government of public affairs; but though they were able to make him change his council, they did not find it so easy a mátter to change his temper: full of his own merit, he beheld himself with extreme regret under the direction of others, at a time when he was of age to hold the reins of the government himself. Upon his having entered into his twenty-third year, he called his council, ordering all the members to be present.
When they were met, he asked them how old he was? to which answer was made, he was full twenty-two years of age,
Since it is so," said he, " I will govern my kingdom myself. The condition of a King ought not to be worse than that of his subjects, who are at liberty at that age to manage their affairs." Having thus made known his mind to them, be commanded the Chancellor to deliver to him the Great Seal (which that officer had received from the hands of the Regents), which he gave to the Bishop of Winchester, the famous William of Wickham, founder of Winchester School, and of New College, Oxford. Here ended of course the Regency.
Henry V. on his death-bed, named a Regent and a guardian for his infant son, Henry VI. then only nine months old; but the parliament altered this disposition, and appointed a protector and council, with a special limited authority.
The two worthy brothers of Henry V. the famous Duke of Bedford, and the good Humphry Duke of Gloucester, governed both France and England during the minority of their nephew: the former was Regent of France, where he gallantly main-again; tained the interests of young Henry for many years: he caused his nephew to be crowned King of France, in the cathedral church of Paris, when that Prince was no more than twelve years of age. Soon after, the great Duke of Bedford died at Rouen,
Henry VI. like Richard II. remained in a state of pupillage till the age of nearly twenty-three.
When the King had reigned many years, he was attacked with an infirmity both of body and mind, which rendered him unfit to
in Normandy, and lies buried in the cathe-that George Duke of Clarence, and the fa
dral church. Though his exploits had rendered his name famous through Europe, very little regard was paid to his memory by his relations: no monument was raised over his remains; a marble slab, with the following singular inscription:-Cy gist la Racine de Bedford, is all that shews where this great man lies.
mous Earl of Warwick, called the Kingmaker, should be made governors of the kingdom; and they were accordingly so appointed by the authority of parliament; they executed the office until they were stript of it by the revolution, which sent King Henry back to his prison in the Tower, and restored Edward 1V. to the throne. This Prince, wheu on his death-bed, recom
The fate of his brother, the good Duke
Humphry, is so well celebrated by Shakes-mended to his brother Richard Duke of peare, that it is not necessary to say any thing of it here.
govern: the parliament on this occasion ap
The imbecility of the King's mind was not, however, entirely removed; it returned and when Edward IV. son to the Duke of York, was driven from the throne, and Henry, whom he had kept prisoner in the Tower, was restored to it, his Queen and his friends knowing that he was not capable of governing, it was proposed to the parliament that was immediately called,
Gloucester, the care of his son King Edward V. then only thirteen years of age: the Duke was, by the authority of the Privy Council, declared Protector of the King and kingdom during the minority, which title he retained till it merged into the greater one of King Richard III.
THE HAPPIEST NUPTIALS IMBITTERED BY FILIAL DISOBEDIENCE;
AN HISTORICAL TALE.
(Concluded from Page 224.)
"ONE evening after his return from || to mind where I lay; it seemed a bower the Divan, Achmet called my husband and overhung by varied foliage, flowers, me to his most secret apartment, and in a and fruits; but the swinging motion, the low but composed tone said to us: constant murmur of winds, the creaking excellent friends, you saved my life; noise, I could not comprehend. My husbut just that I should preserve yours. band and the sweet boy, five years old, Spaniards, under the Marquis de Gomarez, were beside me. They did not perceive are almost at our gates. I am determined me rise, and no language can describe the to die in defending the sacred standard of revulsion in my frame, the mental shock the Prophet; but Barbarossa will not that darted through my brain when, lookgrant to slaves the privilege of fighting for ing out at a verdant aperture, I ascertainsafety and freedom; he will order a general ed we were perched at the summit of a massacre. There is yet time for you to stupendous tree, with other climbing plants escape. Take my young tassaee and her interwoven among its long arms. An inmate, my camels, which in one day can, voluntary return to my loved asylum with ease, complete a journey which the saved me from falling down the tremendous fleetest horse would not finish in a week. height. The confusion in my mind was Godfrey, you have often been my trusty assuaged by a flood of tears, and even when emissary to Belidulgerid:' all I have there I could think with some coherence, I took deposited I give to you. You understand for granted that a wild delusion,, and not me, and can explain to your wife. One reality, had represented to me our unpreword more. Take with you the boy whose cedented elevation, I remembered the sins high descended father committed to me against my parents, and all the blood that with his last breath. He was your once bathed my feet seemed again flowing countryman: his child shall be yours, and over me. My piteous moans startled Godshare the hoard, known only to you and frey from placid repose. The bosom that one more. I must return to Barbarossa, supported my aching head was, deluged by May your God and my God be with you my weeping eyes. Now that my beloved in all your ways.' is no more, I grieve for so often adding to his sorrows when I ought to have been his comforter; then. I raved more than ever of filial duties irretrievably abjured, of bomicide, and of unmitigable divine justice."
"Sounding trumpets announced an enemy near. My husband delayed not a moment to prepare the camels, and I collected some necessaries for going I knew not where;|| but Godfrey was with me, and to him I could confide my happiness. He came for me, and unperceived we passed through the thickening masses of armed men in the streets: little Eustace stood beside the camels. We were soon mounted, and swifter than the eagle's wing, or the mountain gale, we proceeded without halting till Godfrey led us through narrow defiles near the southern base of mount Atlas.ceive the brother of our master, resolved to We had taken no refreshment except sucking an orange; worn out, and feeble, 1 fainted in my husband's arms when he helped me to dismount. I imagine we slept more than thirty hours, for I awoke early, and could not for some minutes recall spot where he committed the unhappy
My Susanah! my dear self!" said my busband, "when you accuse yourself of faults think also of your redeeming good actions; and when you shudder at our exile, nestling like birds aloft in air, remember we are free, and have escaped from death. The situation you depict is no illusion. This bower was constructed by Achmet, myself, and four trusty slaves, to re
spend the remainder of his days in penetential solitude. Intoxicated with opium, he slew his son in a paroxysm of groundless jealousy, and no argument could dissuade him from becoming a hermit on the
My it is The