man to answer all the frivolous things said about his writings, whether they appear as appropriations in the Christian Advocate, or misappropriations in the Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine? The anecdote, you tell us "has long been in circulation with the name of the minister, and since the publication it has been quoted in a newspaper and the name given." What has Mr. Jacob Drew to do with that? Yet "thus considering the case," you accuse him of having violated the laws of hospitality. O noble judge! That severe censure in his father's words, a mangled quotation, cannot in justice apply. Permit me to ask you, Sir, was it not a personal insult to Mr. Drew, to tell him that the Cornish people were the mob of Methodism? Being "above the vulgar-born," you scorn to see, however you may feel, the "vulgar" wit of the answer. Supposing it were a warm and jocose expression" of the minister, surely 66 -none but a madman will throw about fire, And tell you 'tis all but in sport! The minister is known throughout the Connexion; and, had the epithet been "utterly inapplicable" and false, it would have borne with it its own refutation, and three of your columns would not have been needed for the discussion of the anecdote. You sum judgment thus :-" "The whole book (if the whole, of course every part, skilful logician!) proves that there were certain preachers whom Mr. Drew vehemently disliked." Indeed! I will not deign to answer such an assertion. Perhaps you meant, "The whole review proves that there are certain preachers who vehemently disliked Mr. Drew." By what strange fatality, sir, was it that you ever condescended to praise Mr. Drew in your own handwriting? Read your own letter to him at page 252 in his "Life." What mean you by professing to be "an admirer of his talents?" Was it flattery because he was popular, or did you really admire his skill in "the art of metaphysical verbiage," which now you so profoundly despise? Why did you beseech him to undertake a philosophical investigation of the tenets "which the Methodists profess to hold as divine truths," if he were "not a clear-headed, sound divine,” if he held “confused opinions on many important theological subjects?" Why did you offer to take fifty copies of such a work, and to promote its sale? Was it really meant, or was it a delusive hope, held out to betray? Why did you place him in CONNEXION with Dr. Adam Clarke, when "he had no claim whatever to the honourable posi tion?" Why did you call him "an acute metaphysician," if "his was rather a mathematical than a metaphysical mind;" if he were one of a class of writers whose "metaphysical demonstrations seem often confounded with mathematical ones? Why did you wish him to second ('ably') the efforts of Wesley and Fletcher, if metaphysics "had obscured some portions of his theology;" if he were unsound respecting the divine nature of Christ ?" Why did you tell him that by the investigation of the subjects you proposed, "he would promote the honour of the adorable God," if he held "a dangerous error," and if he “practically denied the supremacy of Revelation!" Where is candour? where is justice? nay, where is common honesty? for I must not name the virtues of Christianity to an Editor of the Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine, who will fawn on a man of talent when living, and seize an opportunity, though "reluctantly," forsooth, when he is in his grave, to trample upon his reputation. On a consideration of your conduct, a deep-felt disgust seizes on the mind; and neither your professions of esteem, nor your offers of friendship, can prevent the conviction that there is another man than the one whom you accuse, who has been guilty, deeply guilty, of "an act of meanness, treachery, and slander." The I am not blest, sir, with that quickness of apprehension which so eminently distinguishes a Methodist editor; but, being in possession of a little sense by no means uncommon, I will venture to guess your motives, although there is much truth in the observation that "reasons of state are mysteries to the vulgar." Mr. Drew, then, had been your literary rival, and he must be crushed; he had presumed to utter sentiments opposed to the dogmas of a conclave; and he must be execrated. outward respect paid to him when he held the weapon of the press, must now, because he is unable to retaliate, be turned into calumny; and because he had been the unflinching advocate of real religious liberty, the honour he has brought to Methodism must be denied and obliterated. From a perusal of some of your articles, we necessarily infer, that, had Mr. Drew been an itinerant, instead of a local, preacher, he would have been extolled as an ornament to Methodism-had ye yielded his willing neck to the yoke of "ecclesiastical domination," he would have been honoured as an humble Christian; and had he given over the produce of his mental labour to the Book-Room Committee, w days of Æsop, for an illustration of that fable in which "the living ass kicks the When measures such as yours, resulting from a policy so contracted, are publicly exhibited in the high places of Methodism, in what degree of esteem, nay, rather in what low grade of disrespect, must her practical Christianity and her internal economy be held both by the worldly and the pious? should not have been told that he did not How much soever you may have de- ་ Not You imitate that instrument which blows To increase the very fire that burns its nose.* The wave that rushes against a rock is broken by its own force, but the rock still towers above it. I cannot but admire the dignified contempt manifested by the family whom you have insulted in their dearest member; nor is it the less deep, nor will it be the less lasting, because for the sake of Methodism it is silent. Disgust concealed Is ofttimes proof of wisdom, when the fault At tu conclusas hircinis follibus auras Had your understanding, sir, been capable of deriving benefit from experience, we had been saved the deplorable sight of editorial dotage. It is this which screens you from our anger; the weakness of your mind draws forth our pity, and your pusillanimity alone is worthy our contempt; even the sacrifice of your integrity we can overlook in the blindness of your zeal for that party which made and keeps you what you are. But I will indulge no longer in reproach, nor will I rob you of the fame you have acquired by your virulence. No the willing lacquey is deserving of praise, even though the tinsel which adorns him be "cut in the shape of the letters Reverend." Permit me then to thank you, and to express my admiration of the manner in which you have maintained the character of Reverend by impartiality, consistency, justice, candour, and truth, to say nothing of brotherly love, in your critique on the "Life of Samuel Drew." VINDEX. THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS. EVERY one who has been in Paris, and examined with delight the animal and vegetable wonders of its celebrated "Jardin des Plantes," must have hailed with satisfaction our spirited, though tardy imitation of it in the Regent's Park. In every point of view, we consider the Zoological Society as a highly useful and important institution. -As an auxiliary to science, its services are great, and, as a mere scene for rational and innocent amusement for the young and inquiring, its gardens are scarcely less valuable. With these impressions of the importance of this society, we observe, with sincere regret, any circumstance in its management, which may tend to impair its estimation in the public mind,—but we are convinced that if the practice now resorted to, of opening the Gardens on a Sunday, be persevered in, this result will inevitably follow. It is well known to all, that this delightful place of popular resort is open during the whole of the week to any one who will pay his shilling on admission, as the ticket required is so easily obtained that it can be considered little more than a mere matter of form. Crowds, during the week, throng the walks of the gardens, and the public have ample opportunity of enjoying them. But it might be urged-thousands are bending over the loom, or confined in the workshop, during the week, to whom a visit to the Zoological Gardens might, under their circumstances, be considered even a fit recreation for the Sabbath.— Although we could [not admit this, still there might be some show of reason in the plea. But how can this plea be urged when not one of this class is allowed to enter on a Sunday, as the admission, without money, is only for members and their friends, or those to whom they may give their tickets or 'bones,' as they are termed. Here is an open and decided profanation of the Sabbath; and how can it be defended? Is it argued that these gardens are the property of a society, and that it is hard that its members, who partly support it by contributions, may not occasionally enjoy them without the intrusion of the public? Very well-let that be done by closing them against the profanum vulgus one day of the week, but do not, in the name of decency, open them on a Sunday to those who are such immoderate lovers of aristocratic exclusiveness, that rather than be sharers with the throng, in admiration of the works of the creation, will heedlessly offend against those sacred principles which have fixed an eternal barrier between the occupations of the Sabbath and the remainder of the week. We are no puritans in our notions on this subject, but we cannot but strongly condemn the practice we have alluded to. We will say nothing of the employment of servants and animals, which the longextended line of carriages produces, for it might be said that the same would be seen in the ring of Hyde Park. With this, however, the society has no concern,-it is their duty, as a public body, to do nothing which shall offend against public order and decency; and every association, either of science or literature, has, we maintain, a higher duty to perform, connected with it -an honest and manly observance of the laws, divine and human. We are convinced that in many cases those who attend the Gardens on a Sunday, do so, more from want of reflection, than from any other cause. Surely, if they considered the mighty force of example on their children and servants, they would forego a little amusement on such a day. Both these classes, often shrewd critics on the habits of their seniors and superiors, will draw their own conclusions, and apply them on other occasions, when even those individuals who set them so injurious an example, would be very unwilling to admit this application. The contemplation of the noble works of the Creator is, under proper circumstances, even a religious work,-but no one will say that the crowds of fashionable votaries who throng the Gardens on a Sunday, care for this holy purpose,-no, we are convinced that the scene is little calculated to wean us from a world we love too well," but rather to impress upon the young and thoughtless-that all days are made for our pleasure, and not one in the seven for Him who, every baby at an infant school would tell them, ordained one for his essential service. 66 METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS. THE remaining portion of the Solstitial season, since the 14th of June, has been alternately fine and showery; the 6th of July was distinguished by frequent showers, accompanied with thunder; the prevailing clouds were the heaped clouds, noticed on the former occasion, (cumulo - stratus, Howard, crinis serratus, Birt,) the fibrus fasciformis, Birt, was also prevalent; it occurred on this occasion in detached masses, and not in a continuous sheet, as on the 14th of June: it may be interesting to compare this circumstance and the occasional thunder that occurred throughout the day, with the wide-spread fasciformis and intense thunder and lightning that was noticed in June; the intensity of the electrical phenomena apparently depended on the size and density of the fasciformi. The 6th of July was also a dividing day between two anemonal periods, the period previous being north-east, and the succeeding southwest; the last period commenced with showery weather, which gradually gave place to fine dry warm weather: this continued until the 18th, when the wind was noticed to be north-easterly; about noon of this day rain began to fall, and in the evening a severe storm of thunder again occurred; the lower series of the class crinis, of Birt's nomenclature were on this occasion very prevalent, and of such density as to hide the upper clouds from view; a few days previous to this, the temperature had been rather high, after this shower it was observed to be considerably lower : we may, therefore, consider this day as the first of the æstival season. POETRY. ROUSSEAU AND COWPER. (BY AN AMERICAN POET.) ROUSSEAU could weep; yes, with a heart of stone, On its small running waves in purple dyed, But his were not the tears of feeling fine, Of wasting fire, chills with the icy snow Of all its desert brow the living world below. And leave him in thick gloom his weary way to grope. He, too, could give himself to musing deep; 'Twas thus, in nature's bloom and solitude, To that bright world where things of earth appear nd conscience whispers of a dreadful bar, COTTAGE INDUSTRY. Suggested by the Engraving, after Edwin Landseer so called, BY THE AUTHOR OF "THE GARLAND," ETC. Give me but thy heart, though cold; Give to others gems and gold; But leave me poor.-BARRY CORNWALL. WHEN, tired with fashion's giddy round, Sighs the young mind for calm repose, Where may that treasure rare be found, That sun-set dew to summer's rose? In vain we seek it mid the gay And glittering throng of pleasure's mart; From opera, ball, it speeds away, It forms of revel scenes no part. It dwells alone with bird and bee, Where smileth "cottage industry." Fair one: methinks it cannot choose But dwell within thy rural home; No pride of wealth's ancestral dome, On Philomel, from lea or bower, What, if that fair and placid brow Bore kin to one of noble race; What if, within that eye, e'n now, "Twere mine the pride of birth to trace; Say, would it make thy home more drear, Would the glad bee from flowret sip Yet sweeter honey; flow more clear The wave that cools the fever'd lip? Ah! no,-these gifts are but for thee And thine, and "cottage industry." How pure must be thy thoughts, how calm The blue lake of thy summer soul; Life yields for those her choicest balm, O'er this no wint'ry billows roll. Blest as thou art, how would that one Be blest and envied, in whose eye, When the day's busy toil were done, Beam the bright rays that never die. And hast thou none to share with thee Thine hours of "cottage industry?" It may be that the muse hath read In vain that meek eye's downward glance; It may be, fancy's ray hath shed Around, the hues of young romance. But if from truth's fair fount they flow, And hymen's torch lights beauty's bowers, May the same summer-calm's warm glow For ever gild thy future hours,Hours of the rose, the bird, the bee, Content and "cottage industry!" REVIEW.-Colonel Napier's History of battles, in which thousands of half-organ the War in the Peninsula. Vol. IV. Boone. London. 1834. As three volumes of this deeply interesting and admirable work have already been for some time before the public, it is superfluous to make any extended comments upon the character and style for which they are remarkable. Colonel Napier is by this time well known as an energetic and impartial writer, an eye-witness to a great extent of the events which he records, and admitting only the most authentic information upon points respecting which his knowledge is founded on the observations of others. In the volume before us, all Colonel Napier's merits, and many of his usual faults, are conspicuous. As usual, his reasoning is bold, clear, and concise; his opinions delivered with perfect frankness, and without regard to the interested views of any political party; while his pictures of the relative conditions of the several belligerent powers are proved to be correct and just, by the authority of documents which there is no possibility of contradicting. As usual, too, his descriptions of particular passages of the war, though generally vivid and forcible to a surprising degree, are sometimes injured by an inflated and pompous style, as well as by singularly ill-chosen expressions and similes; while his admiration of the genius and talents of his great commander, just and proper as it may be to a certain extent, frequently leads him to an extravagance of commendation, to which few of his readers will be inclined to follow him. The period comprehended in the division of his work last published, extends from the close of 1810 to the spring of 1812, and contains Suchet's masterly movements in Valencia and Catalonia, with the sieges of Tarifa, Tarragona, and the city of Valencia; a concise and striking exposition of the miserable and vacillating policy of the cabinets of Spain and Portugal at this, as indeed at every other, period of the war; and, finally, the operations of Lord Wellington on the Agueda and Guadiana, in which the captures of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos are of course included. With respect to the former part of the volume, we have only to observe, that little interest can possibly be felt, by the military or unmilitary reader, in the slovenly movements, glaring mistakes, and lamentable extent of prejudice, for which the Spanish armies were at all times remarkable during the Peninsular campaigns. The mind sinks, and the imagination recoils from 2D. SERIES, NO, 44.-VOL. IV. ized peasantry were drawn up merely for the purpose of being slaughtered, without mercy, by a successful and infuriated enemy, and all that adventitious splendour and pomp of circumstance which excite us to sympathize in the contention of brave and skilful nations, and, in spite of our better feelings, and the exercise of sober judgment, induce us to dwell with eagerness upon the fluctuations of the field of strife, entirely disappear from scenes of such unrelieved massacre and horror. Nor is this disgust much qualified by the histories of the sieges of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos, the principal events which distinguished the British arms on the Peninsula at the period which we are considering. However great the Duke of Wellington may be, considered as a tactician, it is well known that in his sieges he was eminently unsuccessful. Burgos, fortified merely by an old Roman wall, proved a sufficient obstacle to check him in his full career of success. Badajos, twice attacked to no purpose, was only carried in the third attempt at the expense of a most terrific and almost incredible carnage on the part of the assailants, and fell at last, to use the words of Marshal Soult, by a mere coup de fortune, while neither in the siege of this fortress, nor in that of Ciudad Rodrigo, were the external defences so far injured as to justify a commander, (whose first anxiety should be to secure, to as great an extent as possible, the safety of the troops under his care,) in venturing upon a general and open assault. In both cases, the counterscarp was left untouched; and the difficulties which the storming parties had to encounter could only be met by a courage and selfdevotion little short of supernatural. On this, unquestionably, no general has a right to rely; but even were the ultimate success of an attack a matter of demonstrable certainty, the loss of nearly five thousand men, the very flower and strength of his army, is a price somewhat too costly to pay for the possession of any second-rate fortress against which he may direct his artillery; and, great as may be the praise acquired in such cases by private heroism, the only reward to which a commander is entitled is that of a severe and general censure, and the rather serious charge of valuing human life at a less rate than the personal exertions of his engineers and the expenditure of his ammunition. Yet the occurrence of such terrible episodes in the history of human contention, and a faithful picture of their attendant horrors and revolting circumstances, is far from being unattende |