LETTER ON THE CHARACTER OF SIR JAMES MACKINTOSH. 287 and the improvement of his understanding, I must fervently and cordially join him. est curses of history, am 1 to stop because the motives of these men are pure, and their lives blameless? I wish I could find a blot in their lives, or a vice in I was much amused with what old Hermann* says their motives. The whole power of the motion is in of the Bishop of London's Aschylus. We find,' he the character of the movers: fecble friends, false says, a great arbitrariness of proceeding, and much friends, and foolish friends, all cease to look upon the boldness of innovation, guided by no sure principle;' measure, and say, Would such a measure have been re- here it is: qualis ab incepto. He begins with Eschycommended by such men as the prelates of Canterbury lus, and ends with the Church of England; begins with and London, if it were not for the public advantage? profane, and ends with holy innovations-scratching and in this way, the great good of a religious estab- out old readings which every commentator had sanclishment, now rendered moderate and compatible tioned,-abolishing ecclesiastical dignities which with all men's liberties and rights, is sacrificed to every reformer had spared; thrusting an auapest into names; and the church destroyed from good breeding a verse which will not bear it,-and intruding a canon and etiquette the real truth is, that Canterbury and into a cathedral which does not want it; and this is London have been frightened-they have overlooked the prelate by whom the proposed reform of the church the effect of time and delay-they have been betrayed has been principally planned, and to whose practical into a fearful and ruinous mistake. Painful as it is to wisdom the legislature is called upon to deter. The teach men who ought to teach us, the legislature Bishop of London is a man of very great ability, huought, while there is yet time, to awake and read them mane, placable, generous, munificent, very agreeable, this lesson. but not to be trusted with great interests where calmness and judgment are required; unfortunately, my old and amiable school-fellow, the Archbishop of Canterbury, has melted away before him, and sacrificed that wisdom on which we all founded our security. It is dangerous for a prelate to write: and whoever does it ought to be a very wise one. He has speculated why I was made a canon of St. Paul's. Suppose I were to follow his example, and, going through the bench of bishops, were to ask for what reason each man had been made a bishop; suppose I were to go into the county of Gloucester, &c. &c. &c.!!!!! Much writing and much talking are very tiresome; and, above all, they are so to men who, living in the world, arrive at those rapid and just conclusions which I was afraid the bishop would attribute my promo-are only to be made by living in the world. This bill tion to the Edinburgh Review; but upon the subject of promotion by reviews he preserves an impenetrable silence. If my excellent patron, Earl Grey, had any reasons of this kind, he may at least be sure that the reviews commonly attributed to me were really writ. ten by me. I should have considered myself as the lowest of created beings to have disguised myself in another man's wit, and to have received a reward to which I was not entitled.* passed, every man of sense, acquainted with human I presume that what has drawn upon me the indignation of this prelate, is the observations I have from time to time inade on the conduct of the commissioners-of which he positively asserts himself to have been a member; but whether he was, or was not a member, I utterly acquit him of all possible blame, and of every species of imputation which may attach LETTER ON THE CHARACTER OF SIR JAMES to the conduct of the commissioners. In using that word, I have always meant the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of London, and Lord John Russell; and have, honestly speaking, given no more heed to the Bishop of Gloucester than if he had been sitting in a commission of Bonzes, in the court of Pekin. To read, however, his lordship a lesson of good manners, I had prepared for him a chastisement which would have been echoed from the Seagrave, who banqueteth in the castle, to the idiot who spitteth over the bridge at Gloucester; but the following appeal struck my eye, and stopped my pen: Since that time, my inadequate qualifications have sustained an appalling diminution, by the affection of my eyes, which has impaired my vision, and the progress of which threatens to consign me to darkness; I beg the benefit of your prayers to the Father of all mercies, that he will restore me to better use of the visual organs, to be employed on his service; or that he will inwardly illumine the intellectual vision with a particle of that divine ray which his Holy Spirit can alone impart.' MY DEAR SIR, MACKINTOSH. You ask for some of your father's letters: I am sorry to say I have none to send you. Upon principle, I keep no letters except those on business. I have not a single letter from him, nor from any human being, in my possession. The impression which the great talents and amiable qualities of your father made upon me, will remain as long as I remain. When I turn from living spectacles of stupidity, ignorance, and malice, and wish to think better of the world-I remember my great and benevolent friend Mackintosh. The first points of character which everybody noticed in him were the total absence of envy, hatred, malice, and uncharitableness. He could not hate-he did not know how to set about it. The gall-bladder was omitted in his composition, and if he could have been persuaded into any scheme of revenging himself upon an enemy, I am sure (unless he had been nar rowly watched) it would have ended in proclaiming It might have been better taste, perhaps, if a mi- the good qualities, and promoting the interests of his tred invalid, in describing his bodily infirmities before adversary. Truth had so much more power over him a church full of clergymen, whose prayers he asked, than anger, that (whatever might be the provocation) had been a little more sparing in the abuse of his ene- he could not misrepresent, nor exaggerate. mies; but a good deal must be forgiven to the sick. Itions of passion and party, he stated facts as they wish that every Christian was as well aware as this were, and reasoned fairly upon them, placing his happoor bishop of what he needed from divine assistance; piness and pride in equitable discrimination. Very and in the supplication for the restoration of his sight, fond of talking, he heard patiently, and, not averse to intellectual display, did not forget that others might have the same disposition as himself. * I understand that the bishop bursts into tears every now and then, and says that I have set him the name of Simon, and that all the bishops now call him Simon. Simon of Gloucester, however, after all, is a real writer, and how could I know that Dr. Monk's name was the endearing, though somewhat unmajestic name, of Dick; and if I had thought about his name at all, I should have called him Richard of Gloucester. In ques Till subdued by age and illness, his conversation was more brilliant and instructive than that of any human being I ever had the good fortune to be ac Ueber die behandlung der Griechischen Dichter bei den Englandern Von Gottfried Hermann. Wiemar Jahrbucher, vol. liv. 1831. 288 WORKS OF THE REV. SIDNEY SMITH. quainted with. His memory (vast and prodigous as | but in this view he was unjust to himself. Still, how. it was) he so managed as to make it a source of plea- He had a method of putting things so mildly and interrogatively, that he always procured the readiest reception for his opinions. Addicted to reasoning in the company of able men, he had two valuable habits, which are rarely met with in great reasoners-he never broke in upon his opponent, and always avoided strong and vehement assertions. His reasoning commonly carried conviction, for he was cautious in his positions, accurate in his deductions, aimed only at truth. The ingenious side was commonly taken by some one else; the interests of truth were protected by Mackintosh. ever, his style of speaking in Parliament was certain- Your father had very little science, and no great knowledge of physics. His notions of his early pur suit-the study of medicine-were imperfect and antiquated, and he was but an indifferent classical scholar, for the Greek language has never crossed the Tweed in any great force. In history, the whole stream of time was open before him: he had looked into every moral and metaphysical question from Plato to Paley, and had waded through morasses of international law, where the step of no living man could follow him. Poenough to recollect when every judge on the bench litical economy is of modern invention; I am old His good-nature and candour betrayed him into a (Lord Eldon and Serjeant Runnington excepted,) in morbid habit of eulogizing every body-a habit which their charges to the grand juries, attributed the then destroyed the value of commendations, that might high prices of corn to the scandalous combination of Oc-upon by political economists, without taking much have been to the young (if more sparingly distribút- farmers. Sir James knew what is commonly agreed ed) a reward of virtue and a motive to exertion. casionally he took fits of an opposite nature; and I pleasure in the science, and with a disposition to have seen him abating and dissolving pompous gentle- blame the very speculative and metaphysical disquimen with the most successful ridicule. He certainly sitions into which it has wandered, but with a full had a good deal of humour; and I remember, conviction also (which many able men of his standing amongst many other examples of it, that he kept us are without) of the immense importance of the science for two or three hours in a roar of laughter, at a din- to the welfare of society. ner-party at his own house, playing upon the simplicity of a Scotch cousin, who had mistaken me for my I never saw a gallant synonym, the hero of Acre. more perfect comedy, nor heard ridicule so long and so well sustained. Sir James had not only humour, but he had wit also; at least, new and sudden relations of ideas flashed across his mind in reasoning, and produced the same effect as wit, and would have been called wit, if a sense of their utility and importance had not often overpowered the admiration of novelty, and entitled them to the higher name of wisdom. Then the great thoughts and fine sayings of the great men of all ages were intimately present to his recollection, and came out dazzling and delighting in his conversation. Justness of thinking was a strong feature in his understanding; he had a head in which nonsense and error could hardly vegetate: it was a soil utterly unfit for them. If his display in conversation had been only in maintaining splendid paradoxes, he would soon have wearied those he lived with; but no man could live long and intimately with your father without finding that he was gaining upon doubt, correcting error, enlarging the boundaries, and strengthening the foundations of truth. It was worth while to listen to a master, whom not himself but nature had appointed to the office, and who taught what it was not easy to forget, by methods which it was not easy to resist. I think (though, perhaps, some of his friends may not agree with me in this opinion) that he was so acute judge of character, and of the good as well as evil in character. He was, in truth, with the appearance of distraction and of one occupied with other things, a very minute observer of human nature; and I have seen him analyze, to the very springs of the heart, men who had not the most distant suspicion of the sharpness of his vision, nor a belief that he could read any thing but books. Sufficient justice has not been done to his political integrity. He was not rich, was from the northera part of the island, possessed great facility of temper, and had therefore every excuse for political lubricity which that vice (more common in those days than I hope it will ever be again) could possibly require. Invited by every party, upon his arrival from India, he remained steadfast to his old friends the whigs, whose admission to office, or enjoyment of political power, would at that period have been considered as the most visionary of all human speculations; yet, during his lifetime, every body seemed more ready to have forgiven the tergiversation of which he was not guilty, than to admire the actual firmness he had displayed. With all this he never made the slightest efforts to advance his interests with his political friends, never resentment at neglect, and was therefore pushed into mentioned his sacrifices nor his services, expressed no such situations as fall to the lot of the feeble and deli cate in a crowd. Curran, the master of the rolls, said to Mr. Grattan, A high merit in Sir James Mackintosh was his real 'You would be the greatest man of your age, Grattan, if you would buy a few yards of red tape, and tie up your bills and papers.' This was the fault or the mis- and unaffected philanthropy. He did not make the fortune of your excellent father; he never knew the improvement of the great mass of mankind an engine use of red tape, and was utterly unfit for the common of popularity, and a stepping-stone to power, but he business of life. That a guinea represented a quanti- had a genuine love of human happiness. Whatever ty of shillings, and that it would barter for a quantity might assuage the angry passions, and arrange the of cloth, he was well aware; but the accurate number conflicting interests of nations; whatever could proof the baser coin, or the just measurement of the man-mote peace, increase knowledge, extend commerce, ufactured article, to which he was entitled for his diminish crime, and encourage industry; whatever gold, he could never learn, and it was impossible to could exalt human character, and could enlarge human teach him. Hence his life was often an example of understanding, struck at once at the heart of your fa the ancient and melancholy struggles of genius with the difficulties of existence. I have often heard Sir James Mackintosh say of himself, that he was born to be the professor of an university. Happy, and for ages celebrated, would have been the university, which had so possessed him, a moment when this spirit come upon him--like a ther, and roused all his faculties. I have seen him in great ship of war-cut his cable, and spread his enor mous canvass, and launch into a wide sea of reasoning eloquence. But though easily warmed by great schemes of be This is the good and evil of your father which comes uppermost. If he had been arrogant and grasping; if he had been faithless and false; if he had been always eager to strangle infant genius in its cradle; always ready to betray and to blacken those with whom he sat at meat; he would have passed many men, who, in the course of his long life, have passed him ;-but, without selling his soul for pottage, if he only had had a little more prudence for the promotion of his interests, and more of angry passions for the punishment of those detractors who envied his fame and presumed upon his sweetness; if he had been more aware of his powers, and of that space which nature intended him to occupy, he would have acted a great part in life, and remained a character in history. As it is, he has left, in many of the best men in England, and of the continent, the deepest admiration of his talents, his wisdom, his knowledge, and his benevolence. I remain, my dear Sir, Very truly yours, SIDNEY SMITH. A LETTER TO LORD JOHN RUSSELL. MY LORD, THOUGH, upon the whole, your residence and plurality bill is a good bill, and although I think it (thanks to your kind attention to the suggestions of various clergymen) a much better bill than that of last year, there are still some important defects in it, which deserve amendment and correction. Page 13, Sec. 31.—It would seem, from this section, that the repairs are to depend upon the will of the bishop, and not upon the present law of the land. A bishop enters into the house of a non-resident clergyman, and finds it neither papered, nor painted-he orders these decorative repairs. In the mean time the Court of Queen's Bench have decided that substantial repairs only, and not decorative repairs, can be recovered by an incumbent from his predecessor; the following words should be added: Provided, always, that no other repairs should be required by the bishop, than such as any incumbent could recover as dilapi dations from the person preceding him in the said benefice.' ralities within certain distances have been allowed; acting under the faith of these laws, livings have been bought and bequeathed to clergymen, tenable with other preferments in their possession-upon faith in these laws, men and women have married-educated their children-laid down a certain plan of life, and adopted a certain rate of expense, and ruin comes upon them in a moment, from this thoughtless inattention to existing interests. I know a man whose father dedicated all he had saved in a long life of retail trade, to purchase the next presentation to a living of 8007. per annum, tenable under the old law, with another of 5001. given to the son by his college. The whole of this clergyman's life and prospects (and he has an immense family of children) are cut to pieces by your bill. It is a wrong thing, you will say, to hold two livings; I think it is, but why did not you, the legis lature, find this out fifty years ago? Why did you entice this man into the purchase of pluralities, by a venerable laxity of two hundred years, and then clap him into gaol from the new virtue of yesterday? Such reforms as these make wisdom and carefulness useless, and turn human life into a mere scramble. Page 32, Sec. 69.-There are the strongest possible objections to this clause. The living is 4107. per annum, the population above 2000-perhaps, as is often the case, one-third of them dissenters. A clergyman does his duty in the most exemplary manner-dedicates his life to his parish, from whence he derives his whole support-there is not the shadow of a complaint against him. The bishop has, by this clause, acquired a right of thrusting a curate upon the rector at the expense of a fifth part of his whole fortune. This, I think, an abominable piece of tyranny; and it will turn out to be an inexhaustible source of favourit ism and malice. In the bishop's bill I have in vain looked for a similar clause-That if the population is above 800,000, and the income amounts to 10,000l., an assistant to the bishop may be appointed by the commissioners, and a salary of 20001. per annum allotted to him.' This would have been honest and manly, to have begun with the great people. But mere tyranny and episcopal malice are not the only evils of this clause, nor the greatest evils. Every body knows the extreme activity of that part of the English church which is denominated evangelical, and their industry in bringing over every body to their habits of thinking and acting; now see what will happen from the following clause: And whenever the population of any benefice shall amount to 2000, and it shall be made appear to the satisfaction of the bishop, that a stipend can be provided for the pay. ment of a curate, by voluntary contribution or other. wise, without charge to the incumbent, it shall be lawful for the bishop to require the spiritual person, holding the same, to nominate a fit person to be Page 19, Sec. 42.-Incumbents are to answer ques- licensed as such curate, whatever may be the annual tions transmitted by the bishop, and these are to be value of such benefice; and if, in either of the said countersigned by the rural dean. This is another cases, a fit person shall not be nominated to the bishop vexation to the numerous catalogue of vexations en- within two months after his requisition for that purtailed upon the rural clergy. Is every man to go be- pose shall have been delivered to the incumbent, it fore the rural dean, twenty or thirty miles off, per- shall be lawful for the bishop to appoint and license a haps? Is he to go through a cross-examination by curate. A clause worthy of the Vicar of Wrexhill the rural dean, as to the minute circumstances of himself. Now what will happen? The bishop is a twenty or thirty questions, to enter into reasonings upon them, and to produce witnesses? This is a most degrading and vexatious enactment, if all this is intended; but if the rural dean is to believe the assertion of every clergyman upon his word only, why may not the bishop do so: and what is gained by the enactment? But the commissioners seem to have been a set of noblemen and gentlemen, who met once a-week, to see how they could harass the working clergy, and how they could make every thing smooth and pleasing to the bishops. The clause for holding two livings, at the interval of ten miles, is perfectly ridiculous. If you are to abolish pluralities, do it at once, or leave a man only in possession of such benefices as he can serve himself; and then the distance should be two miles, and not a yard more. But common justice requires that there should be exceptions to your rules. For two hundred years plu. T Calvinistic bishop; wife, children, chaplains, Calvinized up to the teeth. The serious people of the parish meet together, and agree to give an hundred pounds per annum, if Mr. Wilkinson is appointed. It requires very little knowledge of human nature to predict, that at the expiration of two months Mr. Wilkinson will be the man; and then the whole parish is torn to pieces with jealousies, quarrels and compari sons between the rector and the delightful Wilkinson. The same scene is acted (mutatis mutandis), where the bishop sets his face against Calvinistic principles. The absurdity consists in suffering the appointment of a curate by private subscription; in other words, one clergyman in a parish by nomination, the other by election; and, in this way, religion is brought into contempt by their jealousies and quarrels. Little do you know, my dear lord, of the state of that country you govern, if you suppose this will not happen. I have now a diocese in my eye, where, I am positively cer tain, that in less than six months after the passing of the bill, there will not be a single parish of 2000 persons, in which you will not find a subscription curate, of evangelical habits, canting and crowing over the regular and established clergyman of the parish. In the draft of the fifth report, upon which I presume your dean and chapter bill is to be founded, I see the rights of patronage are to be conceded to present incumbents. This is very high and honourable conduct in the commissioners, and such as deserves the warm-receive, you will very soon degrade materially the est thanks of the clergy; it is always difficult to retract, much more difficult to retract to interiors; but it is very virtuous to do so when there can be no motive for it but a love of justice. Your whole bill is to be one of retrenchment, and amputation; why add fresh canons to St. Paul's and Lincoln? Nobody wants them; the cathedrals go on perfectly well without them; they take away each of them 15001. or 16007. per annum, from the fund for the improvement of small livings; they give, to be sure, a considerable piece of patronage to the Bishops of London and Lincoln, who are commissioners, and they preserve a childish and pattern-like uniformity in cathedrals. But the first of these motives is corrupt, and the last silly; and therefore they cannot be your motives. You cannot plead the recommendation of the commission for the creation of these new canons, for you have flung the commission overboard; and the reformers of the church are no longer archbishops and bishops, but Lord John Russell-not those persons to whom the crown has entrusted the task, but Lord Martin Luther, bred and born in our own island, and nourished by the Woburn spoils and confiscations of the church. The church is not without friends, but those friends have said there can be no danger of measures which are sanctioned by the highest prelates of the church; but you have chased away the bearers, and taken the ark into your own possession. Do not forget, however, if you have deviated from the plan of your brother commissioners, that you have given to them a perfect right to oppose you. This unfair and wasteful creation of new canons, produces a great and scandalous injustice to St. Paul's and Lincoln, in the distribution of their patronage. The old members of all other cathedrals will enjoy the benefit of survivorship, till they subside into the magic number of four; up to that point, then, every fresh death will add to the patronage of the remaining old members; but in the churches of Lincoln and St. Paul's, the old members will immediately have one-fifth of their patronage taken away by the creation of a fifth canon to share it. This injustice and partiality are so monstrous, that the two prelates in question will see that it is necessary to their own character to apply a remedy. Nothing is more easy than to do so. Let the bishop's canon have no share in the distribution of the patronage, till after the death of all those who were residentiaries at the passing of the bill. Your dean and chapter bill will, I am afraid, cut down the great preferments of the church too much. Take for your fund only the non-resident prebends, and leave the number of resident prebends as they are, annexing some of them to poor livings with large populations. I am sure this is all (besides the abolition of pluralities), which ought to be done, and all that would be done, if the commissioners were to begin de novo from this period, when bishops have recovered from their fright, dissenters shrunk into their just dimensions, and the foolish and exaggerated expectations from reform have vanished away. The great prizes of the church induce men to carry, and fathers and uncles to send into the church considerable capitals, and in this way enable the clergy to associate with gentlemen, and to command that respect which, in all countries, and above all in this, depend so much on appearances. Your bill, abolishing pluralities, and taking away at the same time, so many dignities, leaves the church of England so destitute of great prizes, that, as far as mere emolument has any influence, it will be better to dispense cheese and butter to the public, than to enter into the church. There are admirable men, whose honest and beau tiful zeal carries them into the church without a moment's thought of its emoluments. Such a man, com. bining the manners of a gentleman with the acquire. ments of a scholar, and the zeal of an apostle, would overawe mercantile grossness, and extort respect from insolent opulence; but I am talking of average vicars, mixed natures, and eleven thousand parish priests. If you divide the great emoluments of the church into little portions, such as butlers and head-game-keepers style and character of the English clergy. If I were dictator of the church, as Lord Durham is to be of Canada, I would preserve the resident, and abolish, for the purposes of a fund, the non-resident prebends. This is the principal and most important alteration in your dean and chapter bill, which it is not too late to make, and for which every temperate and rational man ought to strive. You will, of course, consider me as a defender of abuses. I have all my life been just the contrary, and I remember, with pleasure, thirty years ago, old Lord Stowell saying to me, Mr. Smith, you would have been a much richer man if you had joined us.' I like, my dear lord, the road you are travelling, but I don't like the pace you are driving; too similar to that of the son of Nimshi. I always feel myself inclined to cry out, Gently, John, gently down hill. Put on the drag. We shall be over, if you go so quick-you'll do us a mischief. Remember, as a philosopher, that the Church of England now is a very different institution from what it was twenty years ago. It then oppressed every sect; and the only real cause of complaint for dissenters is, that they can no longer find a grievance, and enjoy the distinction of being persecuted. I have always tried to reduce them to this state, and I do not pity them. You have expressed your intention of going beyond the fifth report, and limiting deans to 20007. per annum, canons to 1000l. This is, I presume, in conformity with the treatment of the bishops, who are limited to from 45001., to 5000l. per annum; and it wears a fine appearance of impartial justice; but for the dean and canon the sum is a maximum-in bishops it is a max. imum and minimum too; a bishop cannot have less than 35007., a canon may have as little as the poverty of his church dooms him to, but he cannot have more than 10001.; but there are many canonries of 5001., or 6001., or 7001. per annum, and a few only of 1000l.; many deaneries of from 1000l. to 1500l. per annum ; and only a very few above 20001. If you mean to make the world believe that you are legislating for men without votes, as benevolently as you did for those who have votes in Parliament, you should make up the allowance of every canon to 1000l., and of every dean to 20007. per annum, or leave them to the pre sent lottery of blanks and prizes. Besides, too, do I not recollect some remarkable instances, in your bish ops' act, of deviation from this rigid standard of epis copal wealth? Are not the archbishops to have the enormous sums of 15,000l. and 12,000l. per annum? is not the Bishop of London to have 10,000l. per annum? Are not all these three prelates commissioners? And is not the reason alleged for the enormous income of the Bishop of London, that every thing is so expen sive in the metropolis? Do not the deans of St. Paul's and Westminster, then, live in London also? And can the Bishop of London sit in his place in the House of Lords, and not urge for those dignita. ries the same reasons which were so successful in securing such ample emoluments for his own see? My old friend, the Bishop of Durham, has 8000l. per annum secured to him. I am heartily glad of it; what possi ble reason can there be for giving him more than other bishops, and not giving to the Dean of Durham more than other deans? that is, of leaving him one half of his present income. It is impossible this can be a clap trap for Joseph Hume, or a set-off against the disasters of Canada; you are too honest and elevated for this. I cannot comprehend what is meant by such gross partiality and injustice. Why are the economists so eagerly in the field? The public do not contribute one halfpenny to the suppert of deans and chapters; it is not proposed by any one to confiscate the revenues of the church; the whole is a question of distribution, in what way the revenues of the church can be best administered for the public good. But whatever may be the respective shares of, Peter or Paul, the public will never be richer or poorer by one shilling. When your dean and chapter bill is printed, I shall take the liberty of addressing you again. The clergy naturally look with the greatest anxiety to these two bills; they think that you will avail yourself of this opportunity, to punish them for their opposition to your government in the last elections. They are afraid that your object is not so much to do good as to gratify your vanity, by obtaining the character of a great reformer, and that (now the bishops are provided for) you will varnish over your political mistakes by increased severity against the church, or, apparently struggling for their good, see with inexpressible delight the clergy delivered over to the tender mercies of the radicals. These are the terrors of the clergy. I judge you with a very different judgment. You are a religious man, not unfriendly to the church; and but for that most foolish and fatal error of the church rates (into which you were led by a man who knows no more of England than of Mesopotamia), I believe you would have gone on well with the church to the last. There is a genius in action, as well as diction; and because you see political evils clearly, and attack them bravely, and cure them wisely, you are a man of real genius, and are most deservedly looked up to as the leader of the whig party in this kingdom. I wish, I must confess, you were rather less afraid of Joseph and Daniel; but God has given you a fine understanding, and a fine character; and I have so much confidence in your spirit and honour, that I am sure you would rather abandon your bills altogether, than suffer the enemies of the church to convert them into an engine of spoil and oppression. I am, &c. SYDNEY SMITH. SERMON ON THE DUTIES OF THE QUEEN. 'OH KING, THY GLORY IS DEPARTED FROM THEE.' The death of a king is always an awful lesson to mankind; and it produces a more solemn pause, and creates more profound reflection than the best lessons of the best teachers. qualities of our minds, as there is in the lesser const derations of life. It is by no means indifferent to the morals of the people at large, whether a tricking perfidious king is placed on the throne of these realms, or whether the sceptre is swayed by one of plain and manly character, walking ever in a straight line, on the firm ground of truth, under the searching eye of God. The late king was of a sweet and Christian disposi tion; he did not treasure up little animosities, and indulge in vindictive feelings; he had no enemies but the enemies of the country; he did not make the me mory of a king a fountain of wrath; the feelings of the individual (where they required any control) were in perfect subjection to the just conception he had formed of his high duties; and every one near him found it was a government of principle and not of temper; not of caprice, not of malice couching in high places, and watching an opportunity of springing on its victim. Our late monarch had the good nature of Christianity; he loved the happiness of all the individuals about him, and never lost an opportunity of promoting it; and where the heart is good and the mind active, and the means ample, this makes a luminous and beautiful life, which gladdens the nations, and leads them, and turns men to the exercise of virtue, and the great work of salvation. We may honestly say of our late sovereign that he loved his country, and was sensibly alive to its glory and happiness. When he entered into his palaces he did not say 'All this is my birthright; I am entitled to it-it is my due-how can I gain more splendour? how can I increase all the pleasures of the senses?' but he looked upon all as a memorial that he was to repay by example, by attention, and by watchful. ness over the public interests, the affectionate and lavish expenditure of his subjects; and this was not a decision of reason, but a feeling, which hurried him away. Whenever it was pointed out to him that England could be made more rich, or more happy, or rise higher in the scale of nations, or be better guided in the straight path of the Christian faith, on all such occasions he rose above himself; there was a warmth and a truth, and an honesty, which it was impossible to mistake; the gates of his heart were flung open, and the heart throbbed and beat for the land which his ancestors had rescued from slavery, and governed with justice:-but he is gone-and let fools praise conquerors, and say the great Napoleon pulled down this kingdom and destroyed that army, we will thank God for a king who has derived his quiet glory from the peace of his realm, and who has founded his own happiness upon the happiness of his people. But the world passes on, and a new order of things arises. Let us take a short view of those duties which devolve upon the young queen, whom Providence has placed over us what ideas she ought to form of her duties—and on what points she should endeavour to place the glories of her reign. First and foremost, I think, the new queen should From the throne to the tomb-wealth, splendour, flattery, all gone! The look of favour-the voice of power, no more ;-the deserted palace-the wretched monarch on his funeral bier-the mourners ready the dismal march of death prepared. Who are we, and what are we? and for what has God made us? and why are we doomed to this frail and unquiet ex-bend her mind to the very serious consideration of istence? Who does not feel all this? in whose heart does it not provoke appeal to and dependence on God? before whose eyes does it not bring the folly and the nothingness of all things human? But a good king must not go to his grave without that reverence from the people which his virtues deserved. And I will state to you what those virtues were, state it to you honestly and fairly; for I should heartily despise myself, if from this chair of truth I would utter one word of panegyric of the great men of the earth, which I could not aver before the throne of God. The late monarch, whose loss we have to deplore, was sincere and honest in his political relations; he put his trust really where he put his trust ostensibly and did not attempt to undermine, by secret means, those to whom he trusted publicly the conduct of af fairs; and I must beg to remind you that no vice and no virtue are indifferent in a monach; human beings are very imitative; there is a fashion in the higher educating the people. Of the importance of this, I think no reasonable doubt can exist; it does not, in its effects, keep pace with the exaggerated expecta. tions of its injudicious advocates, but it presents the best chance of national improvement. Reading and writing are mere increase of power. They may be turned, I admit, to a good, or a bad purpose; but for several years of his life the child is in your hands, and you may give to that power what bias you please: thou shalt not kill-thou shalt not steal-thou shalt not bear false witness ;-by how many fables, by how much poetry, by how many beauti ful aids of imagination, may not the fine morality of the Sacred Scriptures be engraven on the minds of the young? I believe the arm of the assassin may be often stayed by the lessons of his early life. When I see the village school, and the tattered scholars, and the aged master or mistress teaching the mechanical art of reading or writing, and thinking that they are teaching that alone, and feel that the aged instructor |