be poured out upon the seat of the beast, when his kingdom will be full of darkness, xvi. 10. Like the fire of the bottomless pit, the plagues of the fourth and fifth angels succeeding and mingling each with each, will scorch and burn without giving light. They will, while they torment with fire, be full of darkness, even darkness which may be felt," Exodus, xi. 21.—awfully exemplified in the dark infidelity of the French revolution. Thus will that great city he afflicted which reigneth over the kings of the earth, verse 18. And this affliction is at hand, but not for destruction, for it is another angel which," after these things," xviii. 1, announces the destruction of this great city, under the appropriate name of Babylon, which destruction will be final. For the apostle saw, xviii. 21, a mighty angel (who) took up a stone like a great millstone, and cast it into the sea, saying, "Thus with violence shall that great city Babylon be thrown down, and shall be found no more at all." 66 WM. COLDWell. King Square, Nov. 22, 1834. POETRY. THE TREASURES OF THE EARTH. WHAT dost thou hide, O Earth! The glorious Sun doth now upon thee rest. The flowers sweetly sleep, Folded from rain and storm, within thy tomb; Thro' the long hours of Winter's cheerless gloom, Of burning gold and gems of starlike ray ! Moulder, within thy breast, to dust away!- Those time-worn relics or past toil and care; Deck Beauty's brow, and sparkle brightly there. For which in vain our lonely hearts may sigh! Fond hearts and true lie deep In the dark chambers of thy silent breast; The wintry tempests will not break their rest. bloom Moulder to dust in thy remorseless tomb ! But, oh! an hour doth come, When thou, proud Earth! shalt pass for e'er away; The light of heaven shall cast a blessed ray;- A. DELTA. REVIEW.-Historia Technica Anglicana: a systematic Arrangement of the leading Events in English History, from the earliest notices of the country to the present time; with an original System of Mnemonics. By Thomas Rose, author of "Roman History for Youth;" "Westmorland, Cumberland, Durham, and Northumberland Illustrated," &c. &c. Bennett. London. 1835. EVERY attempt to facilitate the correct acquirement, by youth, of the leading events in history, and particularly of those that belong to our own country, cannot fail of meeting with extensive encouragement, at an era when the public mind is active in the search of information. The great defect in those books of history at present generally used in schools is their want of clearness. There is, it must be confessed, no small difficulty in selecting those incidents from our annals which bear upon each other, and form a consecutive chain of cause and consequence during so many ages; and yet it is this concatenation of occurrences which alone can lead the reader on unwearied, and which constitutes not only the charm but the usefulness of the best historians of ancient and modern times. It has, we know, been said that such a continuous current of events is not to be found, and cannot be expected in school histories; but we do not hesitate to reply, that if the slightest history be not written in a manner to exhibit how succeeding events flow from those that preceded them, and in what manner the laws, the habits, the pursuits, and condition of one age produce the leading characteristics of every age that has followed it even to the present time, history will be written and read in vain, and the mind of the most attentive reader will be overwhelmed with heaps of unconnected occurrences, in which amusement will be rare, and instruction altogether hopeless. There is a great, impressive unity of subject in all history; it is even to be traced in "Universal History," where it rises upon the contemplative student, and fills his mind with high and sublime conceptions. In the history of our own country we more readily and amply imbibe this conception of unity, which is perceptible in our progress from barbarism to civilization, from paganism, through the ignorance and superstition of bigotry and papacy, to enlightened Christianity, from the unsettled and selfish tyranny of ambitious sovereigns and nobles, with their irregular laws, to the liberal sway of a government constituted and controlled by the people, as their intrusted agent for the benefit of all. Our investigation increases in interest at every page. It is the growth not merely of man, but of ourselves, that we are tracing, and as we look around us, and observe the complicated connexions by which the community is in our own days held together, we endeavour, with intense and uncontrollable anxiety, to discover in the pages of the historian the steps by which we ascended from the rude condition of barbarians, pirates, and sanguinary marauders, painfully and gradually, through the violence, the cruelty, the tasteless pomp, the unbending pride, and the merciless dominion of feudalism and papacy, to the possession of arts and sciences, of freedom, of philosophy, and pure religion. It is this investigation that gives both its pleasure and value to history; and those who in the slightest degree assist us in this honourable and interesting labour, entitle themselves, undoubtedly, to our gratitude. That Mr. Rose had formed to himself an idea of his task similar to that which we have here endeavoured to impress upon our readers, is apparent from the following passage, which we extract from the Preface. "Fulness is another necessary qualification in a treatise for the student. The whole of the subject should be brought, at once, within his view it should not be vague and indefinite, either in its commencement or termination; but should be brought down in an easy and regular descent from its very beginning to the period when it must necessarily close. Few who have spent much time in the company of the young, can have failed to notice their anxious inquiries as to what preceded and what followed the events of any incomplete narration. "To accomplish the end which he had proposed to himself, the author of the present volume carefully selected the prominent events of English History from various sources, and condensed them within as narrow a compass as perspicuity admitted. Some notices of the ancient Britons, not usually introduced into a juvenile compilation, have been deliberately given; for though they may be in some measure conjectural, they are at least the opinions of men competent to judge. Maps on a peculiar construction, exemplifying the comparative geography of the country, form a necessary appendage to the work, and confer on it an exclusive and novel character. A simple and entirely original art of memory, has been contrived for determining, on the instant, any importaut date connected with English History. A copious and minute index is appended to the work; and a series of questions, with references for their solution, are added, as exercises for the pupil, and to determine the extent of information he may have gained from an attentive perusal of the book.”— p. vii, viii. Mr. Rose's style is well adapted to history intended for the hands of youth; and, we may add, it would be well if historians generally would cultivate that quality by which it is particularly characterised;-it is perspicuity. Our author has also availed himself, with considerable judgment, of the lights that have been thrown upon the "Stuart" period of our history, by the recent publication of letters and papers relative to persons engaged in struggles and transactions, which, at the termination of nearly two centuries, do not affect families or individuals, though their consequences may still be perceptible in a political or general point of view.-The trial of Charles the First, short as the account necessarily is in such a work, has a point or two from sources which were, at no great distance of past time, inaccessible to the general reader. "The circumstances attending the trial and execution of Charles deserve to be minutely detailed. They exhibit a melancholy picture of the dangers to which a monarch subjects himself by stretching the royal prerogative beyond due bounds, and by adopting, or giving countenance to, unconstitutional measures; while they also show the ungovernable excesses of a people wholly relieved from all wholesome control, and the vile machinations of those hypocritical demagogues who contemplate in the destruction of monarchy nothing beyond the advancement of their own views, and a free exercise of their own tyranny. "The interval, from the sixth to the twentieth of January, 1649, was spent in making preparations for this extraordinary trial. The court of justice consisted of a hundred and thirty-three persons named by the commons; but of these never above seventy met on the trial. The members who attended were the chief officers of the army, most of them of very mean birth, together with some of the lower house, and a few citizens of London. Bradshaw, a lawyer, was chosen president; Coke was appointed solicitor for the people of England; Dorislaus, Steele, and Aske were named assistants. The court sat in Westminsterhall. "The king was now conducted from Windsor to St. James's, and the next day was brought before the high court to take his trial. While the crier was calling over the names of the commissioners for trying him, nobody answering for Lord Fairfax, a female voice from the gallery was heard to cry out, "He has more wit than to be here." When the impeachment was read in the name of the people of England, the same voice exclaimed, "No, nor a tenth part of them." Axtel, the officer who guarded the court, giving orders to fire into the box from whence the voice proceeded, it was discovered that these bold answers came from the Lady Fairfax, who alone had courage to condemn their proceedings. "When the king was brought before the court, he was conducted by the mace-bearer to a chair placed within the bar. Though long detained a prisoner, and now produced as a criminal, he still sustained the dignity of a king; he surveyed the members of the court with a stern haughty air and, without moving his hat, sat down, while the members also were covered. His charge was then read by the solicitor, accusing him of having been the cause of all the bloodshed which followed since the commencement of the war: at that part of the charge he could not suppress a smile of contempt and indignation. After the charge was finished, Bradshaw directed his discourse to the king, and told him that the court expected his answer. "The king with great temper entered upon his defence, by declining the authority of the court. He represented, that having been engaged in treaty with his two houses of parliament, and having finished almost every article, he expected a different treatment from that which he now received. He perceived, he said, no appearance of an upper house, which was necessary to constitute a just tribunal; observed, that he was himself the king and fountain of law, and consequently could not be tried by laws to which he had never given his assent; that having been intrusted with the liberties of the people, he would not now betray them, by recognizing a power founded on usurpation; that he was willing before a proper tribunal to enter into the particulars of his defence; but that before them he must decline any apology for his innocence, lest he should be considered as the betrayer of, and not a martyr for, the constitution. "Bradshaw, in order to support the authority of the court, insisted that they had received their power from the people, the source of all right. He pressed the prisoner not to decline the authority of a court that was delegated by the commons of Eng. land, and interrupted and overruled the king in his attempts to reply. "In this manner the king was three times produced before the court, and as often persisted in declining its jurisdiction. The fourth and last time he was brought before this self-created court, as he was proceeding thither, he was insulted by the soldiers and the mob, who exclaimed, "Justice! justice! Execution! execution!" but he continued undaunted. His judges having now examined some witnesses, by whom it was proved that the king had appeared in arms against the forces commissioned by parliament, they pronounced sentence against him. He seemed very anxious at this time to be admitted to a conference with the two houses; and it was supposed that he intended to resign the crown to his son; but the court refused compliance, and considered his request as an artifice to delay justice. "The conduct of the king, under all these instances of low-bred malice, was great, firm, and equal; in going through the hall from this execrable tribunal, the soldiers and rabble were again instigated to cry out justice and execution. They reviled him with the most bitter reproaches. Among other insults, one miscreant presumed to spit in the face of his sovereign. He patiently bore their insolence. "Poor souls," cried he, "they would treat their generals in the same manner for sixpence." Those of the populace who still retained the feelings of humanity, expressed their sorrow in sighs and tears. A soldier, more compassionate than the rest, could not help imploring a blessing upon his royal head. An officer, overhearing him, struck the honest sentinel to the ground before the king; who remarked that the punishment exceeded the offence."-p. 292 to 295. With respect to Mr. Rose's system of Mnemonics, we shall content ourselves with saying, that we are of opinion it may be found useful. Chronology cannot receive too much aid. We have often been surprised that since the publication of the treatise of Dr. Grey, nearly a century ago, and the more recent displays of the powers which associated ideas impart to the memory by M. Von Feinagle and Dr. Crook, our school-books have not contained traces of this astonishing art. Mr. Rose is, we believe, the first of the writers for youthful students, who has applied it, in a direct manner, to the purposes of general instruction. Whether successful in this point or not, the attempt deserves the thanks of the young historian, while the failure of his Mnemonic system will leave uninjured, for the benefit of the inquiring pupil, a "history" far superior to any other abridgment at present in the hands of our youth. REVIEW-Memoirs of the Life and Correspondence of Mrs. Hannah More. By William Roberts, Esq. 4 vols. 8vo. Seeley & Burnside. London. 1834. (Concluded from page 472.) AFTER the time when Mrs. More withdrew herself from the gay and fashionable world, her correspondence naturally assumes a graver cast. About the year 1787 she made the acquaintance of the Rev. John Newton, the well-known author of "Cardiphonia," many of whose admirable letters are contained in these volumes. We regret that their length prevents our inserting more than a single specimen. FROM THE REV. J. NEWTON TO MRS. H. MORE. "Priestlands, Sept. 8, 1796. "My dear Madam, "I am often at Cowslip Green in spirit, and traversing Mendip in all directions in quest of you and dear Miss Patty. And though I cannot be certain of the exact spot, I am with you still; for what is local distance to kindred minds? However, at the foot of the ladder I am sure to meet with you. Do you sometimes think of an old man at No. 6? Do yon not, in the multiplicity of your engagements, at least now and then, offer a petition in his favour? Perhaps at that very moment 1 am praying for you and yours. "I think your case is almost as remarkable as my own, though in a different way. Indeed, madam, you are a miracle of mercy:-how much had you to break through! how much to give up! All things/ are equally easy to Almighty power; but comparatively speaking, I think, the conversion of a libertine much more hopeful than of those who, after having been applauded and caressed by the world, must give up their characters, and must be content to be thought fools by mauy who once looked up to them, before they can be truly wise. I cannot wonder that a sense of the love of Jesus to you should constrain you, as it does, to devote all your time, and talents, and influence, to his service. Nor do I wonder at the success and encouragement he gives you in your department. I believe for this very cause he singled you out, and raised you up, to be eminently useful in your day; and that your example, if any thing can do it, might force conviction on the minds of infidels and gainsayers. "We, that is, my dear Betsy and I, left London the 19th of August. We came hither on the 6th instant, and return to our head-quarters at Portswood Green to-morrow. They will not allow me a pulpit at Southampton. But my dear Mr. Taylor has fitted up a place for me in his house, which I suppose will hold near three hundred people. There I often preach to his poor neighbours, who seem ready to hear the gospel, but seldom have opportunity. If nothing unforeseen occurs, (for who can tell what a day may bring forth,) we shall stay till about the 28th, and then return to our beloved home, and friends, and people. "I am seventy-one years, one month, and four days old. The probability of being soon laid aside, if I should not be suddenly called away, made me desirous of an assistant, who might supply my place to the satisfaction of my hearers. Such an one I hoped for in Buchanan, but he is gone. I had no doubt but that it was the Lord's will, and therefore I gave him up without reluctance. I then procured Mr. Benamor, whom I have no doubt would have fully answered my wishes. But just as I was coming away he was suddenly taken ill, which I thought would have prevented my excursion. He finished his course last Friday; so that I am now destitute again. But this is the Lord's will likewise. enables me to acquiesce, I know he does all things well." These were the last words Benamor spoke. He had considerable abilities as a preacher, and, what I regarded more, was eminent in grace beyond his years. He was upon the point of marriage with a very amiable lady yet he said, " the Lord does all things well.' We need not candles when the sun shines. He "We unite in love, respects, and best wishes to you and to all the good ladies, with repeated acknowledgments of old kindnesses in the holiday. week we spent at Cowslip Green. "May the great Shepherd bless all your sheep and lambs, and feed you that you may feed them! and while he makes you as a spring of water for the benefit of others, may your own soul be a watered garden, in which every plant of his grace may grow and flourish abundantly. Amen. You know that I love to hear from you, and you know that I do not expect it. I am aware of your more important engagements. But if a letter should come at any time, it will be very welcome. I am, my dear madam, "Your very affectionate and obliged, It is somewhat singular that, although Mrs. More possessed, and pretty largely indulged, what she herself calls a voracious appetite for 'reading, she should not have read the "Pilgrim's Progress" until she was in her forty-fourth year. Yet such would appear to have been the case, from the following extract of one of her letters to Mr. Newton, dated 1788. FROM MISS H. MORE TO THE REV. J. NEWTON, "Cowslip Green, July 23, 1788. nery, health, and friendly society, the best natural blessing of human life. God made the country, and man made the town,' says the delightfully enthusiastic bard you are so near, a sentence to which my heart always makes an involuntary warm response. I have been now some weeks in the quiet enjoyment of my beloved solitude, and the world is wiped out of my memory, as with the sponge of oblivion. But, as I have observed to you before, so much do my gardening cares and pleasures occupy me, that the world is not half so formidable a rival to heaven in my heart, as my garden. "I trifle away more time than I ought, under pretence, (for I must have a creditable motive to impose even upon myself,) that it is good for my health; but in reality, hecause it promises a sort of indolent pleasure, and keeps me from thinking and finding out what is amiss in myself. The world, though I live in the gay part of it, I do not actually much love; yet friendship and kindness have contributed to fix me there, and I dearly love many individuals in it. When I am in the great world, I consider myself as in an enemy's country, and as beset with snares, and this puts me upon my guard. I know that many people whom I hear say a thousand brilliant and agreeable things, disbelieve or at least disregard those truths on which I found my everlasting hopes. This sets me upon a more diligent inquiry into those truths; and upon the arch of Christianity. the more I press, the stronger I find it. Fears and snares seem necessary to excite my circumspection; for it is certain that my mind has more languor, and my faith less energy here, where I have no temptations from without, and where I live in the full enjoyment and constant perusal of the most beautiful objects of inanimate nature, the lovely wonders of the munificence and bounty of God. Yet, in the midst of his blessings I should be still more tempted to forget him, were it not for frequent nervous headaches and low fevers, which I find to be wonderfully wholesome for my moral health. I feel grateful, dear sir, for your kind anxiety for my best interests. My situation is, as you rightly apprehend, full of danger; yet less from the pleasures than from the deceitful favour and the insinuating applause of the world. The goodness of God will, I humbly trust, preserve me from taking up with so poor a portion: nay, I hope what he has given me, is to shew that all is nothing, short of himself; yet there are times when I amrapt to think it a great deal, and to forget him who has promised to be my portion for ever. "I am delighted, as you rightly conjectured, with the Pilgrim's Progress.' I forget my dislike to allegory, while I read the spiritual vagaries of his fruitful imagination. "Yours, dear sir, The letters of Sir William Pepys, one of Mrs. More's earliest and most valued friends (the Lælius of her “Blue Stocking,") form by no means the least interesting portion of the work. We cannot help feeling, on their perusal, even more love for his virtues than respect for his talents. Our limits, however, preclude the insertion of any of them. The letters of Mrs. Montagu, which are contained in this collection, do not strike us as calculated to add to her reputation. Those of Mrs. Boscawen, the widow of the celebrated Admiral, are in many instances singularly lively and elegant. The following was written on the passing of the Act of 1784, which (greatly to the discomfiture of the aristocratic scribblers of that day) imposed restrictions on the practice of franking. FROM MRS. BOSCAWEN TO MISS H. MORE. 1784. "Macbeth has murdered sleep, and Pitt has murdered scribbling! What becomes of the damsels with ah's! and oh's! who tell some dear Miss Willis all their woes! And what becomes of me, when, after many delays, I find leisure to scribble to my dear friend at Bristol any nonsense, qui plait a ma plume? Why, she will generously tell me that she has postage in her pocket, but we have been used to franks, and besides, the post is bewitched, and charges nobody knows what for letters; two shillings and nine-pence, I think, Mrs. Leveson says she paid for a letter free Falmouth, but no date of the day. Now he seems to have got his lesson, and remembers it. The Duke is gone to Badminton, with sons of all sizes, and Dr. Penny le fidel Achate, so that I am left chargée d'affaires; I am so happy with my two daughters, that I do by no means find out that London is unpleasant in September; indeed, sometimes I rise with the lark, and run down to breakfast at Glanvilla, where I must own that Mrs. Keeble gives me better cream and butter, raspberries, and fruits of all sorts, than I find here. walk and sit in my garden, get an early dinner, and repair at sun-set to the working party, (not a bit like a lying-in-room, but with sashes open) in Grosvenor Square. Yesterday we saw there, and the Duchess saw it, just as well as if we had been at Moorfields, the great balloon which had so many thousand spectators, that I assure you they were as little to be imagined as counted. Where all came from that I saw running, walking, and crawling towards the spot, was to me incomprehensible. Admiral Barrington is hurt to think that no Englishman has gone up yet either in France or England; and indeed I thought it so suitable to English daring, that when first I heard of Messrs. Charles and Robert, I affirmed they must have had English mothers. Lunardi's nest, when I saw it yesterday looking like a peg top, seemed, I assure you,"higher than the moon riding to wards her highest noon.' I "All this while I have not thanked you for your charming epistle, ¡my dear friend; whenever you are disposed so to treat me, you have only to direct to Lord F. in Audley Street, and without inclosing, for I cannot mistake your hand. I can easily believe you 'spent your time very agreeably with Mrs. Montagu at Sandleford, and how glad you must be to see Mrs. Garrick arrive, The Cathedral window and Gothic Grove I delighted in, and could hardly eat my dinner for gazing at it by moonlight; they must be charming, but for pity's sake no fairies. I don't believe I ever was young enough to like Mab or Oberon, so much do I differ from you; ah qui en doute! Adieu my dear friend, another odious revolution of the post is, that it rides in coaches, so as I go out of town to-morrow, I shall not be back time enough to send it on the day it is marked for, and it will keep no more than a roasting pig; whereas 1 used to write all my letters of a night, after that eight o'clock which parted us, and as to covers, I had them safe in a bag. These were the halcyon days of scribbling; now I am sitting up till past midnight, that this may be ready for to-morrow. Can you help saying, Ah elle ne vaut pas la peine? Yes, for it tells, and it proves that "I am most affectionately, "Your's, "F. B," By way of extract, we add one of the last letters which Mrs. More received from this lady, written shortly before her death. The conclusion refers to Mrs. More's triumph over the malignant calumnies of Mr. Bere and his party, relative to her schools. FROM MRS. BOSCAWEN TO MRS. H. MORE. 1803. "Among the kind notices which this good season has bestowed upon an old retired friend, none have afforded me satisfaction and real comfort equal to that of my very, very dear, most valued, most esteemed Mrs. More's, giving me such a charming account of her situation and health, as I durst not have figured to myself in all the times I have thought of her, which, believe me, has been frequently; that I never tell her so, has been not only from the fear of troubling her, but also that the grasshopper is a burden! My great age remained light upon me till I lost my staff, my dear invaluable daughter; since that deep affliction I am sunk,-not sick; and as 1 prefer solitude, it is a great blessing that I still preserve my eyes, and am now writing without spectacles; I praise God! You may believe I did not come to London for company, of which I have unavoidably too much but my good son was come, and had too recently tasted of the gout, for me to venture to attract him to Rosedale. "What an excellent remedy has your wisdom found for all the rigours of the winter, which used too constantly to confine you to your bed; and you are on horseback, charming! But yet, my dear friend, I have thought of you much these last three days. Your house stands very high, and this raving wind at north-east, does it not visit your tender frame too roughly? "Your neighbours visit you, my dear madam, but I hope you do not return their visits. Car on n'est maitre que chez soi, and you have your own corner at home, besides that our free-born weather (vide Soame Jenyns) changes so suddenly that you may have snow to go home in, and you have no sedan chairs as we have at Richmond. I have left off going to any parties for these two years, and in London I never go out of an evening but to dear Lady Cremorne's; there meeting Mrs. Carter, 1 was tempted to treat them with your delightful letter, and they were extremely thankful for the sincere pleasure it afforded them. Present my best compliments to all the sisters; some, perhaps, love Bath; but they love your health better. No wonder! You do not expect me to name your enemies: thay have long since been clothed with shame; your friends are numerous, and most sincere; but who shall count the number of those to whom you have been benefactress, teacher, guide! I am sure I must not begin this endless subject, but will bid you adieu, still desiring your prayers. Can I forget you? Here is your picture, and here are my shelves covered with my dearest Mrs. H. More, and who will ever esteem me as her 66 "truly affectionate, faithful, and obliged Friend, "F. B." In perusing the close of a lengthened biography like the present, a feeling of melancholy steals over the mind, as we see those who have accompanied us for a series of years, from youth to maturity, and from maturity to old age, who have excited our sympathies, and won our esteem, successively passing to that abode, where there is neither work, device, knowledge, nor wisdom. |