spects of the Dissenters so immediately fulfilled as they fondly anticipated. They had great difficulty in extracting from the Treasury money for repair. ing the damages done to their conventicles by the violence of Church mobs; five thousand pounds was at last granted in 1717. The obligation to subscription of doctrinal articles was not reyoked, we believe, till 1779, when it was commuted for a declaration of belief in the Scriptures; and the abolition of the Test was reserved for our own days.

In 1723, the King was prevailed upon to grant an order of 5001. for the use and behalf of the poor widows of Dissenting ministers. This bounty, • under the name of regium donum, though the name is no longer appropriate, is still continued, and passes annually among the supplies; the exact amount does not appear, being mixed up with other sums granted to the French Protestant clergy, French Protestant laity, the poor of St. Martin's in the Fields, and others, amounting, this present year, to 58121. 78. 10d.

While the Trinitarian controversy was raging, especially among the Dissenters, from which, however, he stood cautiously aloof, Calamy dedicated a volume of sermons, on the subject of the Trinity, to the King, and was allowed to present a copy to his Majesty in person. ." The King (George I.)," he says, 'received me very graciously, took it into his hands, and looked on it; and then was pleased to tell me, he took us Dissenters for his hearty friends, and desired me to let my brethren in the City know, that in the approaching election of members of parliament, he depended on them to use their utmost influence, wherever they had any interest, in favour of such as were hearty for him and his family.” Calamy was, of course, delighted with this, which he took for a special commission. He got together the three denominations forthwith, and they, in their turn, commissioned him to signify to Lord Townsend how very thankful to his Majesty they all were for the honour he did them, and their intention not to disappoint his expectations, complying with which they took to be their interest and duty both. “And I did it accordingly," adds Calamy. He was, indeed, a most indefatigable courtier: he presented both the Prince and Princess of Wales with a copy; and to let slip no opportunity of ingratiating himself with royalty, he waited also on the children, the three little princesses, and delivered one of his books to Anne, the eldest.

We must draw to a close. Of course, with our limits, we can only glance at a few topics—many, from their very nature, there is no touching without dilating, especially the controversial matters. With all these latter, both on the part of the Dissenters among themselves, the Antinomian and the Tri. nitarian, and on that of the Church, the Bangorian, and the disputes of the Convocation, Calamy is deeply interested. It is amusing to see him carefully noticing the deaths of all the bishops as they occur, as if he had more than a “ month's mind" to a mitre-had one dropped on his brow, he would never have rejected it like his grandfather. But the book is altogether invaluable, not only for the record and discussion of such matters, but for the plain-speakings of the author on almost all occasions. The value of contemporary authorities, compared with historical compilations, every one is now beginning to estimate justly. Mr. Rutt's notes—those of the explanatory kind-are of great use, and show his very extensive reading and prompt recollection of illustrative matter.

“ Find me out fit simile

For light-wing'd Inconstancy."
Is it found in April skies?
In the rainbow's fading dyes?
In the flower's decaying tint ?
In the footstep's noiseless print?
In the misty morning's vapour?
In the dim, expiring taper?
-Meeter emblems can ye find
In the restless veering wind ?
In the moonbeam's fitful rays?
In the meteor's short-lived blaze ?
April's short capricious sway
Yields to love-inspiring May;
Blended hues of light repose
Where the “arch of promise" glows;
Footsteps yet may press the lawn,
Fresher buds of beauty dawn.
See! the bursting Sun has kiss'd
Dew-drops sprung from mountain mist;

Seek the self-same point again;
Scarce the Crescent's beam declines
Ere a new-born planet shines ;
And if meteor lights delude,
"Tis, alone, when they're pursued :
What if Time each charm defaces,
Nature renovates her graces.
Ah! there's nought of earth or air
Can with fickle mind compare !
Feeling's tempest would ye trace
In the wild tornado's face?
In the pealing thunder's crash ?
In the scorching lightning's flash ?
In the earthquake's quivering shock ?
In the rent and shatter'd rock ?
In the sea's up-heaving surge?
In the Eastern widow's dirge? -
No; the whirlwind furies die;
Lightnings burn yet purify;
Angry peals are heard no more;
Hush'd the earthquake's bellowing roar;
Where the ashy torrent lies,
Cities from the dust arise ;
Blooming groves, and fertile plains,
Hide the lava's burning veins;
Shipwreck'd gales are hush'd to rest
On the Ocean’s dimpled breast;
From the din of clanging arms
Superstition's dread alarms,
And from Death's appalling shape
See the martyr'd slave escape :
Is there one unchanging form
Like the soul's enduring storm?
Blighted hearts would ye deplore
As sterile heath, or blasted moor?

Talk of Afric's sandy plains,
Desert shores, or dungeon chains;
Dive beneath the foaming wave
For solitary mermaid's cave;
Linger near the ruin'd tower,
Seek the Eagle's lofty bower?
Yet, on barren heath, I ween,
Simple flowerets oft are seen ;
On the Desert's arid sands
Patiently the camel stands,
And, to cheer the dreary soil,
Shares and lightens every toil;
Whilst to quench tormenting thirst,
Fountains in the Desert burst.
In the sea's deep grottoes dwell
Coral buds and wreathed shell ;
Sea-weeds of unnumber'd stems,
Golden sands, and starry gems.
The Eaglet throned in kingly state,
Scorns the humble shafts of fate.
O'er sinking halls and ruin'd shrines
The verdant ivy still entwines,
And to their silent shades belong
The nightingale's delicious song.
Fetter'd limbs may find release-
Desert shores may harbour peace.
Range through earth, and air, and sea,
Cull each boasted simile-
Language can but ill express
The wither'd heart's deep loneliness!


Tue present position of the British Empire is without a parallel in the history of nations, and presents an ample field for anxious speculation to the statesman and the philosopher, no matter of what clime and country they may be. One of the peculiarities of her situation (and perhaps not the least) is the extraordinary influence, moral as well as physical, which she has acquired over the nations of the earthan influence which cannot better be compared than with that the heart possesses over the other members of the human frame; and of which the most important, as well as the most insignificant, are made to acknowledge the inpulse, ard to answer to the vibrations, be they made in pleasure or in pain. But this influence, great and extraordinary as it is, we do not at present intend to inquire into, nor to discuss in any way the foreign relations of Great Britain, beyond what may be absolutely necessary towards unravelling and elucidating our domestic policy; we shall, however, reserve to ourselves the right of entering fully upon this very intricate and interesting part of her policy at a future period, to which we are the more readily induced to defer our labours, by reason of the mass of matter which presses on our attention at home, and the belief that a crisis is at hand in the general politics of Europe, which the delay of a few months, nay of a few weeks, may bring forth. That the crisis we contemplate may materially affect some of our internal arrangements is quite true; but we are bound to confess that we have such a confidence in the great man now at the head of affairs as to believe, that happen what may, care will be taken not o involve Great Britain, as heretofore, in the idle brawls of neighbouring nations, nor to permit her present and dear-bought tranquillity to be shaken more than (10 return to the metaphor we set out with,) the heart would necessarily be by the disorganization and suffering of any of its dependent members.

With these impressions on the mind, we prepare to approach the object of our intended remarks : but, before we get so near to it as to have our attention distracted by an examination of the materials of which it is composed, we would wish to take a deliberate survey of it from a distance, so as to form a true estimate of its architectural proportions, or rather, we would contemplate from a neighbouring eminence the geographical situation and general outline of the mighty city, before we proceed to examine the individual structures of which its inagnificence is composed. The most prominent object in such a view is necessarily the National Debt, a cumbrous column, well based and on a solid foundation, but crumbling at its apex from the perishable nature of the materials of which it is formed. Next to it stands a structure of minor consequence, soon likely to fall to pieces, the Poor Laws, propped by an ugly mound, under the name of the Corn Laws; but which a fast flowing tide, called Popular Opinion, we rejoice to observe, is certain to sweep away, as well as to quench the next conspicuous object in the picture, a devouring fire which may fairly he said to represent, in its consequences, the effects of the Tythe System. None of these objects are pleasant to view ; but while the two columns are productive of some good by affording certain protection, the Mound and the Fire promise nothing but evil. From the Mound exude a thousand Sores, which wilher and kill wherever they run; while the Fire, from its own destructive nature, and the brands it throws out, seems as if nothing short of an abandonment of the whole city would satisfy its insatiable craving. In the background appears a huge body, representing an inverted cone, or pyramid, which rocks on its narrow end like the celebrated stone in Wiltshire. Great as its size is, and tottering from top weight, it is for the present prevented from fairly upsetting, as was poor Gulliver from rising, by a host of Lilliputian figures, who with great dexterity balance it, by means not greater than those which overcame the king of travellers, and of a texture so frail as to leave us in a most painful suspense as to its fate. This vast body represents our Indian empire, which rocks to and fro with greater violence than ever.

Although these are the most conspicuous objects in the perspective, we regret to say that they are not the only offensive ones. Many others of minor importance present themselves; but those enumerated are the chief excrescences which deform the fair picture of our ideal city, and it shall be our business, as opportunities may be afforded, to bear out our assertions and justify our dislike. The subject is of overwhelming importance, and in acknowledging it to be so, we hope our readers will not condemn us for having wandered a short distance from the high-road of sober reasoning, for the purpose of placing before them, as we had in our own eyes, the view of the deformities which disfigure the political and social structure of Great Britain. These deformities require to be treated upon separately, and when this shall have been accomplished, we apprehend that the title of this article will still remain before us as a text for many others. We should be doing injustice to our own discrimination, and to the cause we have taken in hand, were we not to express our sense of the evils which flow from the Game Laws, the Liceusing System, Imprisonment for Debt, the Court of Chancery, and a long list of et ceteras that we can now do no more than mention. Many persons will say that the evils we have enumerated are the natural offspring of a parent that, in common justice, ought to be first beld up to execration; and we agree with them that several of these evils have either originated in, or been grievously augmented by the defects that time has made in the Parliamentary representation. We will never shrink from this assertion, but we will at once state why we are not inclined, at present, to give the subject that has called it forth a prominent place in these remarks. We believe that public opinion, by urging the most vigorous and powerful minister England ever possessed to great and salutary deviations in her domestic policy, will, in its result, produce the effect to be expected from the measures of a reformed Parliament. On that account we do not wish to see the mental energies of Englishmen at this moment distracted in the discussion of a subject upon the details of which there are such a variety of opinions, and which, we believe, may be safely postponed for the reason we have given; but we desire to be distinctly understood as not looking coolly upon the great question of Parliamentary reform, as an ulterior measure, and, in the mean time, we earnestly hope that the popular influence will never cease to be exerted in favour of the freedom of election; that, whenever an opportunity is afforded for degrading boroughs or individuals who abuse it, it will be seized with avidity, and that the walls of Parliament will echo with petitions praying for their degradation, until the time arrives when, after the other deformities of the political system have been cleared away, a calm and dispassionate review of the representation may be commenced.

Having thus guarded ourselves, as we hope, from misconstruction on the subject of Parliamentary Reform, we will notice the great object of political interest and importance, the National Debt. Considering the vast amount of the debt, and the inighty influence its increase or diminution must have upon the prosperity of the country, as well as upon the financial and trading operations of the whole world, and considering, too, how much has been said and written upon the subject, it cannot but be matter of surprise to those who have studied it, how very much it is misunderstood, and how imperfectly its details are known to nine-tenths even of the thinking portion of the community. This ignorance arises, in a great degree, from the mystification of public accounts, which, until lately, appears to have been the chief object of each succeeding Chancel. lor of the Exchequer. The accounts of a nation ought to be, and might be made as perspicuous as those of a banker to every individual conversant with the simple principle of debtor and creditor. But the complexity complained of has had the effect of checking general enquiry, and of rendering the mass of the people wholly ignorant of the details of finance, beyond what they acquire from the tax-gatherer. It has had the farther effect of distracting the attention of those who do enquire, and of almost making them believe that the common properties of pounds, shillings, and pence, are lost when applied to the finances of an empire. Thus, as in a fog, things have been seen indistinctly, and theories, not less hideous than the genii from the Fisherman's tub, have arisen from the vapour. Of these, however, two only are deserving of notice; and it

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