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of Europe, is firmly established; while the British name in arms is at once unprecedented and unparalleled. Napoleon's last speech and dying words at Plymouth, are highly honorable to our government: “ Your sovereign, by acting with consistency and vigor, has defeated my designs, and ruined my power.”
The excellent discourses before us stand in need of no comment as to their object. All the world has heard of the achieve. ments of the 18th of June, and no Briton, at least, can be insensible to their importance, or ungrateful to those whose matchless skill and intrepidity effected them. The contrary, indeed, has been amply proved by the very large contributions made throughout the kingdom; and we rejoice exceedingly to find, that the clergy who spoke so well, did not speak in vain -the Rev. Mr. Fiddler of High Rooden excepted. The' offering of his parishioners amounted to just one pound, one shilling, and one penny! so that he may with singular propriety exclaim, We have piped unto you, but ye have not danced. We have inserted the titles of two sermons, and although both contain matter worthy of high praise, we can now make an extract only from Mr. Bowerbank's. This gentleman has the good fortune to be in charge of a parish remarkable for its loyalty. The contribution there, however, is inferior to that of some of the adjoining villages, where they do not always hold themselves bound to honor the king. But their beneficence shows that they fear God, and, for the present, that is quite sufficient. Charity covereth a multitude of sins.
“The words of my text have been selected, to introduce to your notice the propriety of a contribution to the general fund, now forming throughout the kingdom, for the relief of the families of the brave men who have fallen, and of the wounded sufferers in the late glorious victory of Waterloo. The wise man directs us to “ withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of our hund to do it !” ile makes, you perceive, the cause of gratitude and justice the cause of real benevolence; and, I am persuadci, i only rests with myself to prove the one I am now advocating lo be such a cause, in order largely to participate of that bounty which you have never denied to objecis who stood in need of it, and which has distinguisted the inhabitants of this parish on so many occasions.
“ Having our thoughts thus raised to God, who is the original source and spring of all the good attendant upon our country, we shall be led by the sirongest motives to be just to the incrits of those by whose exertions He has been pleased to bestow it. And never were exertions put to a severer trial; for splendid as may have been the previous triumphs of the British arms, I believe I am fully justified in asserting, that on no former occasion has victory been achieved under more trying circumstances, or led to more decisive and glorious resulls. It pleases God to make use of human agency in accomplishing the ordinary administrations of his providence; but though we have his assurance that his eye and “ his mercy
are over all his works,” that not even a sparrow “falleth on the ground uit hout” his knowledge, yet he does not think proper visibly to interfere in warding off the natural consequences to which such agency may subject his instruments. It is, therefore, by his permission, that in full proportion to the magnitude has been the expense of the late sanguinary encounter; that whilst we rejoice in the hard-earned, and, we humbly trust, humanly speaking, merited honor of our beloved country- wbilst we rejoice in the prospect which this great victory has untolded of peace and rest to the civilized world—we must at the same time deeply feel for the individual sufferings with which it has been purchased-for the sufferings of the widow and the orphan-for the sufferings of him who, maimed and mutilated in the service of his country, looks, and has a right to look, to that country for ber sympathy and gratitude. For had not British valour on that day supported a most uneqnal conflict, in such a manner as prol.ably none but Britons could or would have supported it, very different might have been our present situation and prospectsvery different might have been the sacrifice required of us;-not, as now, the sacrifice of gratitude and beneficerce-buit a more galling sacrifice, to imperious necessity, of our dearest interests and comforts. But thanks be to God, and to the unparalleled exertions, under his blessing, of those heroes who fought and bled for us, the victory was ours !-a victory incalculable as to its importance and consequences, not to ourselves alone, but to every nation under heaven. The tamily of every brave man, who fell on that day of triumph, ought to be considered as a sacred deposit left by him to the care and protection of a decply obliged and grateful country. The confidence of their being so considered, we may fondly hope, in some degree tended to mitigate the agonies of expiring nature, and speak peace and comfort to the husband and parent in that hour when they must needs be wanted—the hour of painful and lingering dissolution on a field of battle; when, forsaken and helpless, the idea of home and all its former happiness, the idea of home and all its future misery, must harrow up the soul.-Oh! let not our conduct disappoint this confidence--let not the day of benevolence be less signal in its triumph than the day of bravery; but let us, who have been spared the heat and burden' of the conflict, who are reaping, and trust long to reap the fruits of it, remember those that did bear them; and, whilst we endeavour to recompense by our liberal contributions on the present occasion the defenders of our happiness, we may rest assured that we are sowing the seed of future devotion to our interests, should it please God that similar exertions should ever again be required of us. It may not, indeed, be in our immediate power to" cause the widow's heart to sing for joy," but we may fulfil the dying wish of him whose last prayer was for her protection when he should be no more;-we may save her from the misery of destitution ;-we may add to the comforts of his fatherless children, and of “ him," perhaps an aged parent, " who has” now “ nonc to help him ;"—we may be the friends of her who, previously deprived of her parents, has in the loss of an affectionate brother, their dear and sole representative, the guardian of her innocence and her youth, been bereft of father, mother, brother, all in one ;-we may, by our charity, be eyes
to the blind, and fret to the lame;"—and, as surely as we do, and are so--so surely shall the prevailing “ blessing of him who is ready to perish come upon us ;"-so surely shall the more valuable blessing of him, who is our Father and our God, approve and reward the“ labour of love," of gratitude and of justice.
"If ever there was a country under heaven worth preserving, it is that
country which is preserved to us. Its preservation, indeed, has not been effected without a struggle ;-every circunstance connected with which has tended to draw closer the ties of our affection and regard. It has been a struggle, during the more tlian twenty years of its continuance, eventful beyond all former example or conception. Astonishment has long since been exhausted in the contemplation and recoll tion of the various incidents, the vicissitudes of fortune, the revolutions of empires, the distress, the horrors that accompanied it. But amid all the maze, this wonderful country fixed her eye steadily on one object, and having had the courage and virtue invariably to pursue, she has finally, by God's mercy, attained it. The war, in which at first she felt herselt compelled to engage, was truly a uur of principle, and she has no reason to feel ashamed of the avowal. She entered into it for the defence and preservation of all she considered dear to man: against principles subversive of all order and legitimate government, the bane and curse of society; she entered into it because she would not submit to sacrifice her glorious constitution, the blessing and pride of ages, to the bewildered dreams of enthusiasm, or plunge into the misery and crimes of revolution to gratify the demands of a faction. And on what an eminence has her fortitude and perseverance, placed her? Witnessing in succession the fall and subjection of almost every surrounding nation, the victims of an ill-judged and temporising policy, she alone, firm as the oak, the native emblem of her isle (prepared to fall, if fall she musi), disdained to bend beneath the storm that assailed her, till by her conduct and example a degraded world has been roused to vengeance;—and how complete is her victory, when at the present moment she sees him (the child of that revolution, the terror, the disgrace, the execration of humanity), who has long been her deadliest foe, a suppliant at her ports for the protection of her prince and of vur laws ? “ Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name be the praise, for thy loving mercy, and for thy truth's sake.” We desire, O Lord God, to testify our sense of gratitude to thee for being so continually nigh to us, and for the outstretching of thy arm in our defence, by administering in thy name to the sufferings of those who have só lately been the honored instruments of thy goodness towards us ; and we implore thee, for Jesus Christ's sake, to accept and bless the uffering!"
ART. VI. Lady Jane's Pocket, A Novel, in four volumes. By
the author of Silvanella, or the Gipsy. London. Newman,
1815. £1. 2s. The quaint title of this book did not, we must acknowledge, prejudice our minds in favor of the contents. On opening it, we were however agreeably surprised to find ourselves insensibly drawn on to the final pages, by the attraction of an interesting story, conveying laudable sentiments, and told in unexceptionable language. The heroine, without being an insipid piece of impossible perfection, displays, when placed in very difficult
circumstances, qualities which her fair readers will do well to imitate as well as admire, and attractions of which every one of us has seen, or may hope to see, the prototype.
“Her fine figure was syrometry itself, and the expression of her countenance was perfectly fascinating; yet she was far from being a beauty ; on her entrance into a ball-room, a quizzing glass would hardly have been levelled a second time at her face, which owed its principal charms to the witchery of her smile and the irradiations of genius and intelligence which sparkled in her eyes. In short, she was of that description of women whose attractions lie in ambuscade, but who infallibly steal the heart-the
yery soul of man, and maintain over him the most powerful ascendancy." vol. 1. p. 3.
This amiable creature, whose name is Florence, is the daughter of an antiquary who lives upon the income of a sinecure place, and devotes the chief part of his time and money to the purchase and care of pictures, fossils, relics, coins, &c. with as little discrimination as prudence. He had been for many years a widower, and being wholly engrossed by his museum, the care of his daughter's éducation had devolved upon a widowed sister perfectly qualified for the task, and who proves the mentor of the tale. Early in the first volume, we are told of Mr. Mustiman (the father of our heroine) that
“ He undoubtedly broke the tenth commandment, for he beheld, with longing eyes, and an aching heart, the complete fossil bones of an animal, which doctor Flowerdale had procured from some diggers, wlio were working in a quarry in the north of England. What the creature might have been, afforded much debate at a numerous meeting of virtuosos who assembled to examine it. One sapient doctor pronounced it to be the skeleton of an elephant, and another thought it was a hippopotamus; but counsellor Positive, a great zoologist, gave it as his decided opinion that it was a maminoth, though smaller than those ever found before, as it did not answer to the description of any other animal which had yet been seen. Its dimensions, he argucd, proved nothing against it, as it might have been a very young one; and his opponents not Iraving much to advance in contradiction, it was at last voted to have been a chicken mammoth. Doctor Flowerdale was delighted to have so great a rarity in his possession, and Mrs. Flowerdale was still more intoxicated; she never called it anything but her dear chicken : a diamond necklace, at no period of her life, would have given her so much pleasure.
“Mr. Mustiman felt that he could not bear to go into his friend's museum, this prodigious acquisition having sunk himself into such inferiority as a collector. He made use of the epithets overbearing and selfimportant, when the doctor was mentioned, and even called Mrs.. Flowerdale, when speaking of her to his sister, a conceited, ignorant woman, but he afected to have changed his opinion on the following occasion.
“ Doctor Flowerdale, one very severe day, caught a cold by stepping into a wet ditch, in search of a curious plant; and, after a short illness, he left his lady a widow, with a very small income. The whole of his property, excepting his museum and furniture, amounted to lille more than four thousand pounds, to the interest of which she became entitled
during her life, by her marriage settlement, but the principal was afterwards to devolve to their only son, who was chaplain to a regiment at that time in the West Indies.
“ Mr. Mustiman was at first in hopes that the curiosity he so much coveted would now be sold, Mrs. Flowerdale having such a limited income; and he only feared he should have so many competitors, that it would be above his means. However, the lady declared, that rather than part with her dear chicken, she would live upon bread and cheese. But the animal was so large, that no small room would contain it, and Mrs. Flowerdale was in a sad dilemma, for she could not afford to keep the house her husband had rented, neither could she get another to suit her finances, which would acci mmodate this precious rarity. Mr. Pustiman could not sleep for thinking of it; and so solicitous was he to see it in his own inuscum, that he concluded the best way would be to become a suitor to the widow, and thus secure the inestimable treasure.
Mrs. Flowerda'e had certainly no inclination to marry again; she would have preferred an Egyptian mummy to any man in Christendom; but it occurred to her, after mental debate, that the gentleman had an apartment large enough to shew off her hobby-horse to advantage; so she surrendered in due form, and the happy time was fixed when Mr. Muistiman should bring home his bride and the mammoth together. Mrs. Hanway and Florence were not much delighted when they were informed of the intended marriage; the former, because she thought her brother's concerns would go to ruin under the management of a savante, and Florence regretted being parted from her beloved aunt, who declared she should retire to lodgings. The day at length arrived, when Mr. Mus, timan was to conduct Mrs. Flowerdale to the altar; and it was agreed, that after the performance of the ceremony, and he had attended the lady home, he should return to her house, to escort the mammoth, which was nailed up in boards for removal. As for the other articles of her museum, she had dispatched them to her intended husband's dwelling some time before; but ihis invaluable treasure, she protested, should never leave its station until she went herself; and after several conferences on the safest mode of conveyance, it was decided that it should be carried by two porters, on a long hand-barrow, and that Mr. Mustiman should walk by the side of it. This plan being put into execution, the bridegroom and the mammoth were proceeding side by side, just turning the corner of a street in Westminster, when a hackney-coach at full speed came suddenly on the hand-barrow; the poor fellows were thrown down who carried it, and the box which contained the mammoth was precipitated to a considerable distance by the jerk, and being but slightly tacked together, it burst open; out Hew the bones in every direction, for as they were only united by small wires and cement, having been discovered in a disjointed state, the violence of the concussion had entirely shaken the skeleton to pieces, and poor Mustiman stood aghast, with his hands upheld, behulding with horror and dismay the destruction of those hopes he had indulged of eclipsing his brother virtuosos. I am ruined ! I am
We devote the remainder of our limits to a slight sketch of the adventures of our heroine. The son of her step-mother
no taste for recent productions, was a most negligent and ungracious parent, first interested Florence by his misfortunes, and then rivetted her attachment by his good and great qualities. Some circumstances of doubtful interpretation,