for business; another day we are told his Majesty is in a bad state of health-going after his father, and the like; all circulated by them, and every word of which they know to be utterly false. Their beau-ideal of a monarch is of one who, to the voluptuous life of Sardanapalus, adds the most profound seclusion, and the mock dignity of a ruler of China-who leaves the reins of state in their hands, all except that which may affect his own enjoyments and pleasures-who imagines that men are made for kings, and they only responsible to God. Your Tory wishes to hold king and people in vassalage alike. He is devoted to that monarch, whom he can turn his own way, by administering to his caprices: he thinks it better than if he were king himself; for, while he works in the name of his master, he can shift the evil he does upon the shoulders of the sovereign, and claim the good alone.

To William IV. we would give the title of the preserver of his country, for what he has done hitherto. Kings may turn from good to evil, like other men; but we have no right to anticipate such a result in the present case, any more than we should have a right to anticipate it of a neighbour. Heartily, truly, faithfully, devotedly, with all our hearts and souls, then, do we address King William as a prince once addressed his father-aye, from our heart of hearts do we exclaim

There is your crown;

And He that wears the crown immortally,

Long guard it yours!

We

We wish it were in our power to approve all the ceremony of the late coronation. Much of the expence was judiciously curtailed by the King's wish, but we regret that the Church should exact its entire due of ceremony; it would not bate a jot of its share of the business. There is so much of mummery, and, in our opinion, of the worst part of old Popish superstition in it, that we are astonished how our prelates could go through it with grave countenances. wonder they had not the good sense to omit some portion of it, if, as we imagine, they had the power to do so. Nothing is more agreeable to sound reason, and few things are more solemn in the public eye, or more worthy of being witnessed, than a monarch appearing under the sacred roof to seal a covenant between himself and his people, that he will govern them in justice and mercy. The simpler such a ceremony, the better. The absence of all gaudy theatrical decoration, save the robes of the officials and peers, so as to make it more impressive, would be far, far better than a good deal of the present ceremony from dark times. It most unfortunately happens that individuals, particularly those belonging to the Church, imagine that antiquity sanctions any absurdity; and because the principles of the Christian faith are ancient, (not that they needed to be so, since they are adapted to all time,) they think every thing else, be it principle or usage, because it is old, must be sacred too. Yet in this they are not always consistent; a sense of the ridiculous has sometimes come upon them, but then they have secretly slid out of the difficulty. Few can tell by what authority the prayer for those who were touched for the evil by the royal hand, is omitted in the later copies of the Book of Common Prayer. It has been smuggled out

of the Prayer-Book; we should like to know by what Act of Parliament? Could we ascertain this, we might answer the arguments of those who have opposed some of our best divines in their proposal for revising certain of the forms in the Book of Common Prayer. We recommend omissions in the coronation ceremony. If the presence of all the great nobles of the land, of the legislative bodies, of the royal family, and, lastly, of the sovereign himself, be not sufficient to impress the comparatively few spectators with a proper sense of the importance of the occasion, surely some of the ceremonies rather contribute to decrease than add to it. Many of them are altogether Popish. It is the custom in our Church to call the table on which the sacrament is administered-the altar. Now this title hardly becomes the reformed Church of England, though, as it is usually entitled so in our churches, it is of less consequence. On the present occasion, however, it was made a real altar-it was dressed out in blue and gold, and held an offering. An offering to whom, upon an altar? To God? Even to God himself! Where is a precedent for such a thing to be found in the book of Jesus Christ-in any part of the New Testament? We do not read of altars there. Here, in the church of Christ, we have an altar, and offerings of gold and purple, to God the Father! the first offering being an altar-covering, and the second an ingot of gold deposited in an oblation basin! A second altar-covering was offered by the Queen on the altar, and then the archbishop prayed to God to receive these oblations in the name of Jesus Christ! Now all this looks highly idolatrous. Papistical it undoubtedly is. Indeed, we query whether the service was at all altered since Papal prelates crowned our kings. Hierarchies are fond of pomp and ceremony; yet our reformed prelates would hardly have let it pass, one should imagine, without censure, had they duly considered it. Then the anointing took place under an anointing-pall, held by four dukes. The oil was poured into an anointing-spoon,' the King anointed with it on the head, breast, and hands, in the form of a cross! (reminding us of the Catholic and his holy-water cross)—and on both shoulders. Really, this is to us a supererogatory affair; a few drops of oil poured on the head, we should think, might have sufficed. Four duchesses held a pall over the Queen in the same manner, and the archbishop anointed her uncovered breast we think this latter ceremony might have been dispensed with. Then followed prayers with garments put on and taken off; there was a long succession of them, and of forms which

When Charles X. of France was crowned, the train of superstitions played off on the occasion was so very outrageous, that the French public could not be grave upon it. The holy oil with which the precious race of the Capets had been anointed from time immemorial, was kept at Rheims. The vessel which held it had been perpetually supplied, from generation to generation, with the precious unguent, down to the time of the Revolution, nobody but the priests knew how. They affirmed it never wasted. They were sadly at a loss to replenish the ampoule for anointing Charles, the darling of the faithful, and hit on the following expedient. They procured an individual, who they declared was a man of most exemplary piety, and made him formally affirm that, horror-struck when the sans-culottes dashed the coronation-vessels to pieces, he preserved, with true piety, a fragment of the bottle which held it, on which were two or three small drops of the sacred oil-not dried up, by a miracle, in 1825; and with that the truly paternal Charles was anointed!

could answer no end but to fatigue the sovereign-all done only be'cause they were done before in the dark ages of superstition, and most of them very foolish, because they have no meaning now. We hold that sacred and profane usages should not approximate so closely, as almost to bring the former to the borders of the ludicrous. The service of the church, the sacred character of the place, the sermon, the communion, on such an occasion of compact, are all proper, amid the assembled nobles and commons of England. Most of what is exhibited besides is theatrical in effect, and a positive lowering of the Church and the reformed religion.

We put these objections with perfect good feeling, but with not half the force we might do it: we sincerely hope something better in unison with present habits and manners will be substituted on the next occasion. We are astonished at many of the objectors to Catholic emancipation calling the Catholic religion idolatrous, with such a ceremony as the coronation ceremony of England staring them in the face. But this is akin to human consistency.

The other customs, not religious, were judiciously shortened. Champion Dymoke on his horse, like Don Juan in the theatre, was dispensed with, we trust, for ever. We are sorry he will lose a suit of armour, and the making a challenge, which, if answered by any modern singlestick player, would place his Majesty in a very dangerous situation.

The particulars of the various forms and ceremonies gone through on this occasion, have been so widely circulated in the daily papers, that we do not think it worth while occupying the reader's attention with them in this place. We rather turn to a more pleasing theme— the public reception of the sovereign by his people, and to a few reflections which arise out of it.

In the first place, it was impossible not to contrast the hearty reception of King William in public with that of George IV. The military successes of his reign tended to preserve the latter from still greater public indifference, than that with which he was viewed for several years preceding his decease. In his disregard of expence in times of distress, in his voluptuous retirement from public view, and in his sensual enjoyments, the causes of his unpopularity may be found. His people had no sympathy with him. They felt they had nothing in common. If his partisans made a noise respecting some act which he performed really praiseworthy, (though we confess such acts were few and far between,) he was certain to mar the little good feeling it might produce, by some act of extravagance, some new claim on the purse of the nation, or something which re-acted against him respecting favourites or attachments, which escaped from the triple-walled seclusion of his Windsor cottage-that labyrinth of his latter royalty. When death came, no lamentings were heard among his people-for they knew him not. He never possessed their sympathies, and none of his subjects were ever more quickly forgotten after passing to their humbler cemeteries. We saw him in gorgeous pomp, the last time we ever did see him, proceeding to the House of Peers amid the silence or the hisses of his people; the latter were from the rabble, it is true, but the rabble knew what the silence above and around it omened. Alas! life has too little pleasant with any mortal for him

to afford to be hated, be he prince or subject. Time is reducing the steps to the temple of royalty. The elevation between king and people is growing less; or, rather, between prince and men. The appliances which make the difference are a depreciated currency, and will perhaps fall yet lower. Happy, then, the monarch whose judgment leads him to view his own path aright, and who has firmness to tread it! Revolutions will not shake his throne-he has nothing to fear from anarchy or rebellion.

The passage of William IV. to his coronation was worth a hundred Roman triumphs. From St. James's to the Abbey every nook was filled with spectators, every window was crowded. There was no interest in the incense bestowed. The unbought, unbribed people of England welcomed their sovereign with the whole heart; ten. thousand shouts rent the air-their clang is even now in our ears. Theirs were cheers of gratitude for favours received, not the mere tribute to kingship. They recollected that the era of the reign of William IV. had kindled fresh hope in every bosom. They recalled to mind the reign of George IV. and its extravagance Lord Londonderry and his bills of repression and coercion. They recollected how often they had been nearly subjected to the prison and the bayonet, to the suspension of the Habeas Corpus, and, to the utter privation of the liberty of the press a few years ago-they felt the political changes that had occurred, and shouted" God bless King William !"

They further had in prospect the restoration of their privileges as a people, which had been usurped by a party in the state; and they anticipated the crown of their joy from the sovereign passing before them. Can it be wondered that they "did cry God bless him!"?

The people of England are not an ungrateful people. They do not overdraw, as the merchants say, on a monarch's virtues or comforts. They are fond of what is in England most valued-domestic habits, honesty, and condescension in a sovereign. They love to see him occasionally, to know that he is not hedged in by favourités, or secluded from their addresses. It is singular, but true, that no sovereign of Europe was so difficult to approach as George IV. Even in the most despotic states, some time is always fixed when the subject may either petition or address his sovereign, face to face. In England the contrary has been the case of late years. The conveniency of keeping petitions from the royal eye is well understood here for the privilege even of presenting a petition in person, was robbed from the subject by Mr. Pitt. We must allow, however, that after the long discontinuance of the custom, it would be a burden to the sovereign, more than he could well bear, to throw the right open again at once; for people would petition for the sake of being troublesome. Yet we think it ought to be done. We question if Haroun Alraschid had decreed that all petitions should be presented to the grand vizier, whether he ever would have had a sight of one. In England, the present is the most convenient custom imaginable for a minister, and supposes the sovereign to have no will of his own in behalf of a subject.

We feel we have penned a very desultory and wandering article. We have touched upon divers topics which the reader might not have expected at the opening of this paper, but we have rather tried to

"improve the occasion," as divines say, than to enter into uniform detail. In one thing alone we have not wandered-in congratulating the country on the conduct and character of the monarch who has been recently invested with the ancient crown of England, and in wishing him a long and prosperous reign over a people loyal and united. After all, the highest office in the state is but a splendid care; and, without the affections of the governed, it is not to be envied by the most ambitious man, in these days of turbid peace and anarchical strugglings.-" Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown," says a great poet, and truly. But then what opportunities of enjoyment in effecting good belong to a throne! Is there no pleasure in fulfilling a thousand honest wishes that the best, in other situations, .wish in vain-is there no enjoyment in being the one respected and • beloved by millions? For it is in sovereignty, as in private life--where the duties are fulfilled, the reward is present and certain.

Long live King William! then-longer than he from whom he came, and more happily. May every year of his reign contribute to the glory of England and the happiness of her people! Again we say, "Long live King William!"

THE LIFE OF A SAILOR.-No. V.1

WE detained a Greek ship upon some suspicion or other, which did not transpire in the midshipmen's berth, although, of course, we found out enough in our own minds, quite enough to condemn half a score of ships, could we have caught them. The prize was placed under the charge of a lieutenant and some ten or twelve men, and proceeded with us to Malta; but, as the admiral was off Toulon, we repaired to the blockade squadron, and the detained ship entered the harbour. There is hardly a man in the navy, I mean a foremast man, who has not either seen, or heard, or been convinced that such things as ghosts really do exist, and that he has been too near them to be pleasant; therefore I shall spare myself the trouble of relating" accredited ghost-stories" from my naval memorandum book. One will suffice to show how superstitious fears may operate upon minds brave and gallant when real dangers are at hand, and weak and cowardly when phantoms haunt the brain: hence the saying of a true tar, accused of being afraid to go down in the hold of a vessel the day a man had died aboard the ship; who, on being rebuked for his cowardice, screwed up his mouth, hitched up his trowsers, and replied-" Aye, aye, Sir, you know I would fight a devil by daylight, but a ghost in the dark is a very different thing." It appears that our Greek vessel was not subjected to quarantine, and, consequently, entered Valetta Harbour. In the evening the lieutenant thought he had had quite enough of the vessel at sea, and that he could dine as well on shore; consequently, having no captain's leave to ask, on shore he went, and contrived to amuse himself much to his satisfaction until about eleven o'clock at night he then repaired to his ship in a Maltese boat. On mounting the side of the vessel he was astonished to find the whole crew

Continued from Vol. I. p. 394.