it only burns in the presence of oxygen.-It is not fit for respiration; for animals which breathe it die almost intantaneously. If pure oxygen and hydrogen gas be mixed together, they remain unaltered; but if a lighted taper be brought into contact with the mixture, it explodes with astonishing violence; and, if the two gaseous bodies have been mixed in certain proportions, the whole is condensed into water; hence we see the origin of the term hydrogen, which literally signifies the water-former. Hydrogen gas is the substance which, on account of its rarity, is employed to inflate air-balloons. Nitrogen, called also azote, is a gaseous body, rather lighter than common air; of which it forms 4-5th parts in bulk, the remaining 1-5th being oxygen. It is tasteless, inodorous, colourless, and capable of being condensed and dilated. It extinguishes flame, and is fatal to animal life. It combines with oxygen in various proportions, forming compounds which differ greatly in their properties. One of its most extraordinary compounds is nitrous oxide. This gas consis's of 36 parts nitrogen and 37 oxygen; and, when inhaled into the lungs, produces an extraordinary elevation of the animal spirits, a propensity to leaping and running, involuntary fits of laughter, &c. This circumstance shows what a variety of delightful or pernicious effects might flow from the slightest change in the constitution of the atmosphere, were the hand of the Almighty to interpose in altering the proportion of its constituent parts; for atmospheric air is composed of 80 parts of nitrogen, and 20 of oxygen, which is not a very different proportion from the above. Another gas, called nitric oxide, composed of 56 parts of oxygen, and 44 nitrogen, produces instant suffocation in all animals that attempt to breathe it. One of the most corrosive acids, aqua fortis, is composed of 75 parts oxygen, and 25 parts nitrogen; so that we are every moment breathing a certain substance, which, in another combination, would produce the most dreadful pain, and cause our immediate destruction. Carbon is the name given to the pure inflammable part of charcoal, of which substance the diamond is only a variety in a pure crystallized state; for pure charcoal and diamond, when treated in the same manner, produce precisely the same results. Carbon is insoluble in water, and infusable by the most intense heat. Carbon combines with oxygen, and produces a gas called carbonic acid; and, when combined with hydrogen gas, forms carburetted hydrogen gas the same that is now used to light up shops. Animal and vegetable oils are composed almost entirely of carbon and hydrogen; the difference in their properties resulting chiefly from the variation in the proportions of these two bodies. The same may be observed of gum, sugar, and starch. All these bodies, however, contain oxygen. Sulphur is a well-known substance, distinguished commonly by the name of brimstone. It is a hard brittle body, of a yellow colour, destitute of smell, and of a weak taste. It is universally diffused in nature; but commonly combined with other bodies. It is insoluble in water; but, if poured into that liquid when liquefied by heat, it retains its softness; and in this state is employed for taking impressions from seals and medals. When exposed to heat in close vessels, it is sublimed or volatilized in the form of very fine powder, called flower of sulphur. At a heat of about twice that of boiling water, it takes fire, if in contact with the air, and burns with a flame of a pale blue colour. In this process it dissolves in the oxygen of the atmosphere, and produces an elastic fluid acid. It is a substance of great importance in chemistry and the arts. Oxygen unites with it in four proportions, is compounds forming an interesting series of acids. The compounds of sulphur with metals are called sulphurets. With hydrogen it forms sulphuretted hydrogen gas. Phosphorus is a semi-transparent yellowish matter, of the consistence of wax. It is procured, in general, by the decomposition of bones. It is so inflammable, that it is set on fire by a heat of about one-third that of boiling water. Indeed, it has a luminous appearance, arising from a slow combustion, at the common temperature of the atmos phere. During its combustion, it emits a dense white smoke which has the smell of garlic, and in the dark is luminous. On account of its very combustible nature, it requires to be handled with great caution." It is a violent poison." The forty-three" metals compose the most numerous class of undecompounded chemical bodies, and are distinguished by the following general characters:-They possess a peculiar lustre. They are opaque; they are fusible by heat, and in fusion retain their lustre and opacity. They are excellent conductors of electricity and heat. Many of them may be extended under the hammer, and are called malleable; or under the rolling press, and are called laminable; or drawn into wire, and are called ductile. When exposed, highly-heated, to the action of oxygen, chlorine, or iodine, they take fire, and are converted by the combustion into oxides, chlorides, or iodides,-bodies destitute of lustre and other metallic characteristics. They will combine, in almost any proportion, with each other, when in a state of fusion, and thus form compounds, which are termed alloys, bodies that retain the properties of metals. From their brilliancy and opacity, conjointly, they reflect the greater part of the light which falls on their surface; hence they form excellent mirrors. They are very heavy; to this character, however, (though it was till lately considered one of their most prominent features,) there are important exceptions; since metals have been obtained (potassium and sodium, for instance) which are lighter than water. MRS. ARBUTHNOT, LADY JERSEY, MRS. JORDAN, QUEEN CAROLINE, &c. * "WHICH is Mrs Arbuthnot?" said an elderly gentleman of the old school, whose bent form and silver locks told a tale of years gone by, to a young aspirant in diplomacy, during an entertainment at Lady Strong's, at Putney; "which is the confidante of Princess Lieven, and the counsellor of the Duke of Wellington? Do I see her in that lovely woman sitting near our host, with that singularly sweet expression and bright laughing eye?" "No; that is the celebrated beauty, Rosamond Croker, the niece of the sarcastic secretary. The object of your inquiry is nearer home-hush! speak lower-look to the right of Mr. Holmes: see, she is listening with evident satisfaction to the badinage of the great captain. With his grizzled hair, hooked nose, and piercing eye, how like an old engle! Now, now, she looks this way." "And that is Mrs. Arbuthnot," said the old gentleman, musing. "Those faultless feminine features, and clear pale countenance-" "Which," interrupted his youthful mentor, " are invariably of the same delicate hue, and at no time-rare instance in a woman of fashion!-masked with rouge. Look at her well; for she's a woman that has served her country." "Her country-how? when? where ?" "Those are questions more easily asked than answered; but as nothing ostensible appears, we must suppose it to be in the way of secret service. Aid," continued the young diplomatist," she must have rendered, and of no common description. Otherwise there would never have been granted, under an administration on principle hostile to all extravagance to unmerited pensions-to every species of expen diture unsanctioned by necessity; under a Premier who pared down the Custom-house clerks without mercy whose watchword was "economy," and general order “retrenchment;" who spared no salary, and respected no services-a pension of no less than NINE HUNDRED AND THIRTY-EIGHT POUNDS PER ANNUM TO HARRIET ARBUTHNOT. †-No, no; rely upon it, her claims upon her country are weighty, and her services in its behalf unimpeachable." "She is fair," said the old gentleman," but her prede- dent and unceasing love, these were the sentiments recicessor was fairer.", "Her predecessor ?" "Yes; the first Mrs. Arbuthnot was one of the most intellectual, elegant, fascinating women that ever lived. Her daughter, Lady Henry Cholmondeley, in manner resembles her. She accompanied Mr. Arbuthnot in his embassy to Constantinople; and many of his dispatches are indebted for their precision, force, and clearness, to the corrections of her severer taste. Long Wellesley-then an indefatigable student and accomplished man of business, heu! quantum mutatus ab illo-was secretary to the embassy; and could bear willing testimony to her delight at the opportunity of enriching her mind with associations acquired from personal observation of a country full of interest, and but little known. "The last letters that flowed from her polished pen-and those who knew her best will be the first to do justice to the brilliancy of her style, the fidelity and the variety of her descriptive powers-breathed the language of youth and hope; spoke of past pleasures, and anticipated future gratification. The next accounts stated she was no more. “She died at Pera-died when the sad event was utterly unexpected died under the hands of "native talent," in other words, some Turkish quack undertook her cure, was credited, and confided in-died mourned by the whole embassy, and bewailed by her agonized mother-died, except as far as Mr. Arbuthnot was concerned, in the midst of strangers and alone! "But now mark," continued the old chronicler, "what trifling events may colour with disaster a whole train of important circumstances. "About the period of Mrs. Arbuthnot's death, the first memorable investigation was instituted relative to the (then) Princess of Wales. To bear out the charges against this unfortunate woman, the evidence of Mrs. Arbuthnot's mother, Mrs. Lisle, one of her Royal Highness's ladies in waiting, was peremptorily required. It was given; and was the only deposition which militated materially against the Princess. It is the only part of the case,' thus. ran her Royal Highness's letter to her Royal father-in-law, which I conceive to be in the least against me, or that rests upon a witness at all worthy of your Majesty's credit.' It was, in fact, as I have reason well to know, the sole deposition which distressed the Princess--the solitary testimony which neither the ingenuity of Mr. Perceval could ridicule, nor the arguments of Lord Eldon invalidate. It contained one particular passage, which they both feared would prove fatal in a certain quarter. "Her Royal Highness behaved to him (Captain Manby) only as any woman would who likes FLIRTING. She (Mrs. Lisle) would not have thought any married woman would have behaved properly, who behaved as Her Royal Highness did to Captain Manby. She can't say whether the Princess was attached to Captain Manby, only that it was FLIRTING CONDUCT.' + "It was this sweeping sentence which went to prove so much, that the old King was heard more than once to declare, that he had tried and tried in vain to banish it from his remembrance.' It was to this statement, short but full of meaning, that the Prince was known again and again to have referred, 'I abandon to the infamy she merits, Lady Douglas; but-but, sire, the evidence of Mrs. Lisle !' procally entertained by Mrs. Arbuthnot and Mrs. Lisle. "The agony of the survivor beggared description. She wept in unutterable anguish. I cannot appear before the Council! Half frantic and distracted as 1 am, with my heart swollen almost to bursting by this bitter bereavement, and my thoughts all tending towards my daughter's grave is it possible I can enter upon a subject which requires such caution, such deliberation, such self-possession, such reflection? For God's sake write, and entreat them to. grant me a fortnight's delay.' "The answer returned was brief and heartless. No delay could be afforded. There was, in fact, little probability of a different reply. The peculiar circumstances of the casethe general excitement throughout the country-the feelings of the parties interested the anxiety of the reigning monarch-all precluded the possibility of protracted delay. "But of this Lord Erskine's answer stated nothing. It was couched briefly, peremptorily, harshly. Coarsely was it written, and keenly was it felt. "I have not deserved this,' was Mrs. Lisle's remark to should have known me better. But I go-unfitted, indeed, her tried and valued friend Mrs. Forster. His Lordship for the ordeal! I go-and the blame be on those who dragged me to their tribunal, if my evidence be tinged by my sorrows.' She went, and her evidence did take a tone a tone of reprehension and severity, from the grief which overwhelmed her. This, her Royal Highness's advisers at once detected, and Mrs. Lisle never denied. Thank God this most painful portion of my life is past!' was her hurried exclamation as she quitted the Council Chamber; and now,' said she, as she entered her carriage, with Courts I have done for ever! This hour I resign my office.' "To the Princess ? 6 "No; from the Prince I received my appointment, to the Prince will I resign it.' "In a letter which bore the impress of wounded feelings," and contained touches of the truest pathos-which detailed the painful struggle in her own mind, and, while it paid the deference due to her Prince, kept steadily in view what was due to herself, she entreated permis ion to lay at H. R. II. feet the appointment which he had formerly conferred upon her in his consort's household. A copy of this affecting I have one. He to communication is yet in existence. whom it was addressed was far too generous not to own its justice had too high a sense of honour not to feel its truth. situation. They are certainly here very strongly stated. principled woman, like Mrs. Lisle, might be supposed to Yet the letter is precisely what a high-spirited and high "I am but too sensible of the difficulties of Mrs. Lisle's have written; and I entertain for her undiminished respect.' "You have called," said the young diplomatist, "the late Queen unfortunate-how is this?" "I have," said the old man sternly; "and will not recall the epithet. Without passing any opinion on her guilt or her innocence, I term her an unfortunate Princess, because I think few will deny her just claim to that appellation; and that still fewer will assert that she was not, du- ' ring the greater part of her life, and particularly the closing scenes of it, an object of the sincerest pity. I am old, and, from circumstances and situation, know much of the earlier passages of her married life. I was at Brighton during the first visit of the Princess, the only period at which she was an inmate of the Pavilion. I was at tabla on one particular occasion, when Lady Jersey-she has since gone to her account-may she have found mercy with her God!-was sitting at the right hand of the Prince, monopolizing, as usual, his entire and undivided attention. The Princess, who knew little of English manners, and was unguarded in her own, was guilty of some trivial violation of etiquette, which drew down upon her a hasty censure from the Prince, somewhat harshly expressed. The Prin cess rose, and withdrew in tears., The Prince, who, left to himself, was ever generous and kind-hearted, and who had Evidence of the Honourable Mrs. Lisle, in the delicate investiga- results, rose to follow her. Lady Jersey-what a retronot calculated that his remark would produce such painful Now of this evidence of Mrs. Lisle, so important, so unfavourable, and so relied upon, what is the secret history? It is curious, and runs thus:-When Mrs. Lisle received the summons from Lord Chancellor Erskine, acquainting her that her evidence was required before the Commissioners then sitting, she had just perused the melancholy tidings of her daughter's death. If ever mother and child were deeply and devotedly attached,-if ever mother doated upon the external loveliness and mental endowments of an idolized daughter,-if ever daughter reverenced a mother's lofty and unimpeachable character, and remembered with grateful and delighted accuracy a mother's arSister to the late Marquis of Cholmondeley. tion before Earl Spencer and Lord Erskine, &c., &c., in 18053 6. spect a dying hour must have unrolled to the view of that COLUMN FOR THE LADIES. REVOLUTION IN DRESS. WE seldom notice modes, and do not intend to change our plan; but a complete revolution having taken place in female costumes, by an approximation to the taste of our ances tresses, we think it right to notice this movement at the centre, which, in about a year or less, will be felt at all the extremities. Our oracle is the Court Journal. In Paris, the revival of long-exploded antiquities is carried to an extravagant length. At evening parties, and "The Princess was unfortunate in other respects. Dr. balls, ladies have appeared in stiff brocade, of immense patRandolph, the Prebendary of Bristol, was appointed to an embassy of a private nature to Germany. Among other terns, in every colour, intermingled with gold and silver; commissions, he was charged with letters from the Princess to all appearance the very identical dresses which figured at of Wales, which he was directed to deliver personally to the the Courts of Louis XIV. and Louis XV. One of these Duchess of Brunswick, and other members of her family. dresses was formed of very thick moroon-coloured satin. For some reason or other, the Doctor received counter orders, and another gentleman was dispatched to Germany The pattern consisted of large serpentine stripes of ́ gold, in his stead. Instead of surrendering the Princess's packet and each simi-circular interval formed by the waving stripe, to herself in person, he transmitted it to her lady-in-wait- was filled up by a bouquet of roses and pinks, embroidered ing, Lady Jersey, to be by her delivered to her Royal Mis-in coloured silk. This certainly had a superb effect, but tress. The packet was opened-found to contain letters commenting, in ludicrous terms, on various members of her husband's family, and his mother in particular :-these letters were handed over to the parties and never forgiven. Robes of light texture are no longer considered indispen. That such communications were highly censurable, indis-sable for dancing. Ball dresses are now made of moire, creet, and improper, I admit; but what epithet sufficiently strong can be applied to the treachery which could thus way-lay and appropriate them? The end of the Countess was singular. During the Queen's trial, and for some years previous to it, she resided at Cheltenham. On the withdrawal of the Bill of Pains and Penalties, she received a round-robin, numerously signed, telling her that her presence was not desired at Cheltenham, and that she would consult both her quiet and her safety, by a speedy retreat. Considerably chagrined at this document, which was powerfully and convincingly written, she asked a leading personage at Cheltenham, whether public opinion there ran so strongly against her as her letter averred. She was told it did; and that the advice given in the round-robin was, in the opinion of her counsellor, judicious and sound. "Then I will quit Cheltenham without delay.' "Whether she did so, and only reached the first stage of her journey; or whether, when all her hasty preparations were completed, she was suddenly taken ill, I am unable to state positively. This I can affirm, that the vexation and annoyance consequent on the round-robin, brought on the illness which rapidly terminated her existence. She died in the same week as the Queen, and their funeral processions passed on the road. Strange that they should thus meet, both silent in death-the injurer and the injured the oppressor and the victim! "A more false position can never be assumed, than that happiness and independence, and self-respect, are indigenous within the precincts of a palace. A packet of poor Mrs. Jordan's letters, which I now hold in my hand, will sufficiently disprove it. Two in particular, addressed to her daughter, Mrs. Alsop, though dated from "Bushy House," and franked by a cabinet minister, tell as melancholy a tale of sorrow as language can well express. Kind-hearted, generous woman! her bounty to an unworthy relative, and the base return he made for it, accelerated her end. Henshaw, the stone-mason, and myself, with another Englishman, were all that followed her to her lonely grave in a foreign land.” HOME. Cling to thy home! If there the meanest shed the eye must become accustomed to these antiquities before they can be admired. satin, and even velvet. The turban à la Moabite is a head dress at present much in favour. Those formed of white gauze, sprigged with gold or silver, are extremely elegant. These turbans may be worn with robes of velvet, satin or gauze; but of course they do not accord with the dresses which are made in imi. tation of the costumes of the middle ages, the renewal of which appears to be the prevailing taste of the day, For evening negligé, hats of crape or velvet are much worn. These hats are made with very short wide brims, and are placed very backward on the head. They are trimmed with a single long feather. This sort of headdress has all the elegance of the beret, with less appearance of full dress. Boas are now no longer seen in the drawing-room. A scarf alone is admissible in evening dress. Boas, however, have by no means sunk in estimation for promenade dress. No fur has fallen in price this winter, but chinchilla is less in demand than some others. Short sleeves are now invariably made a double sabot: that is to say, the sleeve is divided into two puffs, the lower one being smaller than that above it, and descending nearly to the elbow. At the bottom of the sleeve is placed a manchette of lace, descending low on the inside of the arm, and raised on the outside, in all respects like those worn by our grandmothers. The most glaring contrasts of colours are now admissible without incurring the reproach of bad taste. For example it is not unusual to see a blue satin dress trimmed with bows of ssans souci, or a lilac dress ornamented with yellow ribbon. Black lace mantillas are very much worn; but it is ne cessary to distinguish between the scarf-mantillas, and those which merely form a trimming at the back of the corsage. The latter are also of black lace, but of real lace. This, again, is the revival of a long-exploded fashion. work. Both of a poor man of the name of Evans, which is so full of tion belong men and men resume their diurnal task at horror, without terminating fatally, that the bare idea of a bucolic life, here you have it in full two o'clock in the morning of summer, and keep it until nightfall. To their laborious habits it must be owing, that the females of the servile order in this country have a "breadth of shoulder, extent of thew, and procerity of limb, I would venture to swear, not to be found in any other part of the habitable earth. They really quite outman our sex. In all other animals but the human, the males are, I be lieve, most usually remarkable for beauty. Here they make good the general analogy. Instead of a "peeping ankle," you have a calf of brawn, in full display, under a petticoat reaching no lower than a little under the knee, whose owner steps along at her ease, a full geometrical yard and a half at a stride. It was, no doubt, women such as these that Cæsar's soldiers had a view of, when his army became panic-struck with the apprehended physical force of this people. But the males are by no means in proportion masculine. The costume of the sex is appropriate. The head is bagged, or trussed, in a sort of night-cap, tied close under the chin, the top of which casing is pursed into a knob stuffed with their hair, and from this a long cue or two of plated tresses depend to the waist, if waist that can be called, which preserves its diameter undiminished one inch from the shoulder to the hip. NOT YET Fifteen. DURING the worst periods of the French Revolution, it was customary at Lyons, where many victims suffered, to send the condemned to a place named, "the Cave of Death." A lad of fifteen was of the number. His little brother, a child hardly six years old, who had been accustomed to visit him in another prison before trial, no longer finding him there, came to the vault of the Cave of Death, and called to him from the iron grate. His brother heard him and appeared below. The poor child put his little hands between the thick bars to clasp his unseen brother, while the latter, by raising himself on the points of his toes, could just kiss them. "My dear brother," said the child, "art thou going to die, and shall I see thee no more? Why did you not tell them that you are not yet fifteen ?" "I did, brother; I said all I could, but they would hear nothing. Carry a kiss to my mother, and try to comfort her; no thing grieves me but that I leave her ill, but don't tell her it makes the blood recoil from the heart. It appears that this courageous man was once in good circumstances, but misfortunes had reduced him to the lowest ebb of wretchedness and want. His wife and a family of eight children were crying around him, and he could not endure the thought of his little ones suffering, without making an effort to save them. In a moment of desperation he borrowed the crow bar and rope of a neighbouring cottager, and proceeding to the extremity of the rock, without one thought of the danger of his undertaking, (never having ventured before,) he fixed the crow-bar, attached the rope to it, and boldly descended the cliff. In the course of a few minutes he reached a ledge which, gradually retiring inwards, stood some feet within the perpendicular, and over which the brow of the rock beetled consequently in the same proportion. Busily employed in gathering the samphire, and attentive only to the object of profit, the rope suddenly dropped from his hand, and after a few oscillations became stationary at the distance of four or five yards from him. Nothing could exceed the horror of his situation; above was a rock of 60 or 70 feet in height, whose projecting brow could defy every attempt of his ascending it, and prevent every effort of others to assist him. Below was a perpendicular descent of 100 feet, terminating by rugged rocks, over which the surge was breaking with dreadful violence. Before was the rope, his only hope of safety, his only hope of return; but hanging at such a tantalizing distance as baffled all expectation of his reaching it. Here therefore he remained, until the piercing cries of his wife and children, who, alarmed at his long absence, had approached the very edge of the cliff, roused him to action. He was young, active, and resolute; and springing boldly from the ledge, he threw himself into with a desperate effort, therefore, he collected all his powers, the dreadful vacuum, and dashed at the suspended rope! The desperate exertion was successful, he caught the cord, and in a short time was once more at the top of the rock. No language can describe the scene which followed-himself, the dear partner of his heart, and his little offspring, were in one moment raised from the lowest depth of misery, to comfort, joy, and happiness. HEBRIDEAN POETRY. THERE is a very popular air in the Hebrides, written to the praise and glory of Allan of Muidartach, or Allan of yet that I am going to die." The child was drowned in Muidart, a chief of the Clanranald family. The follow tears, his little heart seemed ready to break. "Good bye, ing is a translation of it by a fair friend of mine: brother," he repeated again and again; but I'm afraid Below hangs one who gathers samphire, THERE are few avocations attendant with so much dan. ger as that of gathering rock samphire, which grows in great plenty along the edges and down the perpendicular side of the cliffs near Rennel's Cave, Glamorganshire. The method employed by the fearless adventurers in their dreadful occupation is simply this :-The samphire gatherer takes with him a stout rope and an iron crow-bar, and proceeds to the cliff, fixing the latter firmly in the earth, at >the brow of the rock; and, fastening the former with equal security to the bar, he takes the rope in his hand, and boldly drops over the head of the rock, lowering himself gradually until he reaches the crevice where the samphire is found. Here he loads his basket or bag with the vegetable, --and then ascends the rock by means of the rope. Careless ness or casualty, in a calling so perilous as this, will sometimes produce terrible accidents. There is a story related Come, here's a pledge to young and old! We quaff the blood-red wine; A health to Allan Muidart bold, The dearest love of mine. CHORUS. Along, along, then haste along, For here no more I'll stay; And o'er the hills away. When waves blow gurly off the strand, And none the bark may steer; Compels her home to veer. 謹 Such troops of damsels gay; Say, came they there for Allan's fame, Or came they there to pray? Along, along, &c. And when these dames of beauty rare Were dancing in the hall, On some were gems and jewels rare, And cambric coifs on all. For here no more I'll stay; And o'er the hills away. WALTER SCOTT. ELEMENTS OF THOUGHT. SPRING SOLITUDE.-In solitude, or that deserted state when we are surrounded by human beings, and yet they sympathize not with us, we love the grass, the flowers, the water, and the sky. In the motion of the very leaves of spring, in the blue air, there is found a secret correspondence with our hearts. There is eloquence in the tongueless wind, and a melody in the flowing brooks, and the whist.. ling of the reeds beside them, which, by their inconceivable relation to something within the soul, awaken the spirits to breathless rapture, and bring tears of tenderness to the eyes, like the enthusiasm of patriotic success, or the voice of one beloved singing to you alone. Sterne says, that, if he were in a desert, he would love some cypress. So soon as this want or power is dead, man becomes a living sepulchre of himself, and what yet survives is the mere husk of what he once was.-Shelley. IMPORTANCE OF THE STUDY OF POLITICS TO MINISTERS. BY THE REV. ROBERT HALL OF LEICESTER. THERE are but few ministers who have capacity or leisure to become great practical politicians. To explore the intricacies of commercial science, to penetrate the refinements of negotiation, to determine, with certainty and precision, the balance of power, are undertakings, it will be confessed, which lie very remote from the ministerial department; but the principles of government, as it is a contrivance for securing the freedom and happiness of men, may be acquired with great ease. These principles our ancestors understood well; and it would be no small shame if, in an age which boasts so much light and improvement as the present, they were less familiar to us. There is no class of men to whom this species of knowledge is so requisite, on many accounts, as dissenting ministers. The jea lous policy of the Establishment forbids our youth admission into their celebrated seats of learning; our own seminaries, at least till lately, were almost entirely confined to candidates for the ministry; and as, on both accounts amongst us, the intellectual improvement of our religious teachers rises superior to that of private Christians, in a greater degree than in the national church, the influence of their opinion is wider in proportion. Disclaiming, as they do, all pretensions to dominion, their public character, their professional leisure, the habits of study and composition which they acquire, concur to point them out as the natural guardians, in some measure, of our liberties and rights. Besides, as they are appointed to teach the whole compass of social duty, the mutual obligations of rulers and subjects will, of necessity, fall under their notice; and they cannot explain or enfore the reasons of submission, without displaying the proper end of government, and the expectations we may naturally form from it; which, when accurately done, will lead into the very depths of political science. THE STUDY OF THE SCRIPTURES FAVOURABLE TO THE PRINCIPLES OF CIVIL LIBERTY. THE knowledge and study of the Scriptures, far from favouring the pretensions of despotism, have almost ever diminished it, and been attended with a proportional increase of freedom. The union of the protestant princes preserved the liberties of the Germanic body, when they were in danger of being overwhelmed by the victorious arm of Charles the Fifth; yet a veneration for the Scriptures, at a time when they had almost fallen into oblivion, and an appeal to their decisions in all points, was the grand char. acteristic of the new religion. If we look into Turkey, we shall find the least of that impatience under restraints, which admirers of despotism lament, of any place in the world, though Paul and his epistles are not much studied there. Hume and Bolingbroke, who were atheists, leaned towards arbitrary power. Owen, Howe, Milton, Baxter, and some of the most devout and venerable characters that ever appeared, were warmly attached to liberty, and held sentiments, on the subject of civil government, free and unfettered.-Hall. To these instances Mr. Hall might have added, the whole reformers of Scotland, from John Knox and the Covenanters to the modern Dissenters. UNIVERSAL SUFFRAGE AND ANNUAL PARLIAMENTS. WERE every householder, in town and country, permitted to vote, the number of electors would be so great, that 98 no art or industry would be able to bias their minds, so no sums of money would be sufficient to win their suf. frages. The plan which the Duke of Richmond recommended was, if I mistake not, still more comprehensive, including all that were of age, except menial servants, By this means, the different passions and prejudices of men would check each other; the predominance of any parti cular or local interest would be kept down; and from the whole, there would result that general impression, which would convey, with precision, the unbiassed sense of the people. But, besides this, another great improvement, in my opinion, would be to shorten the duration of Parlia ment, by bringing it back to one year. The Michel Gemote, or great council of the nation, was appointed by Alfred to meet twice a-year, and by divers ancient statutes after the conquest, the King was bound to summon a Parliament, once a-year or oftener, if need be; when, to remedy the looseness of this latter phrase; by the 16th of Charles the Se cond, it was enacted, the holding of Parliaments should not be intermitted above three years at most; and, in the first of King William, it is declared, as one of the rights of the people, that, for the redress of grievances, and (preserving liaments were triennial till the reign of George the First; the laws, Parliaments ought to be held frequently, Parwhen, after the rebellion of 1715, the septennial act was passed, under the pretence of diminishing the expense of elections, and preserving the kingdom against the designs casion, he was at an utter loss to describe the nature of this of the Pretender. Lord Peterborough observed on that ocprolonged Parliament, unless he were to borrow a phrase from the Athanian creed; for it was "neither created, nor begotten, but proceeding." Without disputing the upright intentions of the authors of this act, it is plain, they might their conduct will ever remain a monument of that shorton the same principle have voted themselves perpetual, and sightedness in politics, which, in providing for the pressure of the moment, puts to hazard the liberty and happiness of future times.-Works of Hall of Leicester. |