our annals, would undoubtedly form an attractive portion of Mr. Murray's cheap and elegant collection. The present is a well-written compilation, and executed with a facility of style and manner likely to interest those readers whose want of leisure or of application deters them from encountering the dry prolixities of authentic history. But it is of the highest consequence that such accounts should be written, not merely with spirit, but with candour and impartiality. If particular periods and events are to be selected for the instruction of the young and ignorant, they must not be treated of as they are in the Houses of Parliament, or in the pages of our fashionable reviews. Education must not employ party narratives for its textbooks; and our fair students, who fish for "general knowledge" as they skim the easy surface of the Family Library, with an occasional dive into the darker profound of Dr. Lardner's Cabinet Cyclopædia, must not be taught to divide the host of the illustrious dead into "monsters" and "angels," like the heroes and savages of fashionable novels.

The volume before us is written with calmness and moderation, although the production of a writer strongly biassed on one side of the question-a question which, after the lapse of 180 years, is rarely debated among Englishmen with perfect coolness; yet there is much contained in it which can hardly pass without animadversion from a Whig reader. We trust that we shall be excused, if, in performing the duty of criticism, we are forced, by the nature of our subject, to travel over a ground of controversy which has been debated already by the writers of six generations; for if the arguments and maxims of the Restoration are repeated in the reign of William the Fourth, they cannot well be met by any reasonings which have not suggested themselves long ago to the liberal examiner.

We will, however, abstain wholly from discussing the merits of the great question between King and Parliament. We will not insist on the advantageous ground which is occupied by a writer who takes up the thread of his story precisely at the period where all our interest is transferred from the victor to the vanquished; by which means all the causes of the suspicion and dislike with which the people of England regarded their sovereign are left out of viewthe provocation is lost sight of, and the terrible retribution stands nakedly forth, claiming our indignation against the exactors of it, and our sympathy with the sufferer. In a mere chronicle of facts, it is of some importance, as to the effect produced, at what link of the series the narrator begins his tale; much more so where, as in the present instance, he constantly interweaves with his relation moral reflections on the conduct of the actors. But let us consider the case simply from the point at which our author has made his commencement.

The boundary between political and moral crimes is one which no reasoning or declamation can overthrow; and when we are told of the enormous guilt of the Regicides, — of the "stings of conscience" under which they must have continually suffered, it behoves us to consider in what this great action essentially differed from the many unscrupulous

deeds by which all parties in civil contentions are in the habit of securing their authority. It is in vain to suppose that men who had been fighting for six years against the royal power could have retained that semi-religious reverence for the royal person which might characterize him, in their eyes, as sacred and invio lable, or could have looked upon his position as different from that of his adherents, who were in daily hostility against them. They acted as party men, and in self-defence: it was to them a struggle between man and man, and whichever was to get the upper hand could only do so by destroying the other. The King was conspiring against the leaders of the army: it was his object to overreach them. It had been his pride, when in less imminent peril, to outwit those with whom he treated. When a king, or other hereditary dignity, measures his wit against that of plebeians, he commonly meets with a superior. The true apology for Cromwell and Ireton, as men, is not to be found in their distorted views of religion, or in their sense of the tyranny of the King previous to the rebellion, or in the ardency of their desires for a republic, in the possibility of which one of them, at least, never seriously believed: it arises simply from the transactions of Hampton Court, where the King paltered with the Scots on one hand, with the army on the other. Our author discredits (on very insufficient grounds) the stories of the intercepted letters, which are said to have revealed the intended treachery of Charles towards the persons of Cromwell and Ireton; but it is clear enough, even to him, that the King's notion of policy consisted in the abandonment of one or other of the parties with which he was treating. "It surely discovered," he says, "no perfidy in the vanquished and half-dethroned King to receive the overtures of both parties, and to be willing to close either with the Scots or the army, according as the offers of the one or the other were most advantageous." Secret conferences with the leaders of both, with high promises of gratifications to themselves and revenge on their enemies, formed, of course, an important and justifiable part of such negotiations. Undoubtedly Charles, in carrying on this double treaty, did no more than most other potentates, in his anxious situation, would have done; but, by his share in these transactions, he forfeits all claim to the irreproachable character of the martyr. We pity his sufferings, and admire the sweet uses which he drew from adversity-the decent and pious firmness which shed such lustre on his latter days; but his death ceases to be regarded as an unprovoked atrocity. We see him mount the scaffold as a defeated intriguer. Had he succeeded, the Independents must have been sacrificed to the Presbyterians and Royalists. By consigning their master to the block, they escaped the tender mercies of Hollis and Hamilton.

The situation of the King, from the moment. when Cromwell and Ireton broke off the train of negotiation commenced at Hampton Court, was that of a man who has a drawn sword almost within his grasp: his enemies hold him at arm's length from it by the greatest exertion of their strength, for they know that its first service would be to destroy them; and when at

length their force will no longer suffice to detain his arm, they do not scruple to anticipate his movements by taking his life.

There is also in this volume a short memoir of Ireton, which seems fairly drawn up,-more favourably, perhaps, than we should ourselves have been inclined to represent him. Although he was not destitute of high and noble qualities, there is nothing in his character to excite the interest which we feel in the career of his greater father-in-law. The peculiar secret of Cromwell's success lay, as is beautifully explained by Mr. Godwin, in the thorough sympathy which existed between him and his fellow-creatures; in his instinctive faculty, not of acting only, but of feeling what he acted, and entering into all the variety of emotions excited among those with whom he lived, by the great events which were passing around them. Ireton held himself aloof from man, and from human passions. His ruling impulse seems to have been the desire of resisting authority and abasing greatness; not from base personal envy, but partly from a cynical temperament, partly from a fixed principle of enmity to such distinctions. His very clemency was suspicious. If he exerted himself to save the life of a commoner, it seems to have been principally with the view of rendering stronger by contrast the severity exercised towards a nobleman.†

Harrison, also, is fairly treated by our author; although we suspect that too great depth of character has been attributed, both by historians and novelists, to this gallant officer-the Murat of our Napoleon-the "beau-sabreur" of the Commonwealth army. He was not naturally inclined to fanaticism by gloominess of mind, but led into it, in compliance with the affectation of his time, by the same ardent and fantastic spirit which in the King of Naples vented itself only in puerile extravagances. Like Murat, he was devotedly attached to his leader, yet frequently led to place himself in opposition to him by mere inconstancy of mind, and the attractions of some new imagination. The sons of the aubergiste of Cahors, and of the grazier of Newcastle, were equally addicted to show and vulgar ostentation. The Sovereign of Naples did not more rejoice in his purple boots and coroneted helmet than Harrison in his "scarlet coat and cloak, laden with gold and silver lace," which he put on the morning after bestowing a brotherly exhortation, against worldly bravery, on a comrade, whose delinquencies had extended no farther than a "sad coloured coat, trimmed with gold buttons," as is minutely recorded by Mrs. Hutchinson. Alas! that the heroine of the Civil War should display, on this feminine subject, an accuracy of memory almost equalling that of the Duchess d'Abrantes herself. It was not, probably, until the latter end of his life, that Harrison became deeply infected with fanaticism, when be lent his countenance to the schemes of the Millennarians, and, in the lan

"History of the Commonwealth," vol. iii. Surely, if Mr. Godwin be a defective historian, he is one of the greatest metaphysicians who ever engaged in historical composition.

See the Trial of Sir John Owen, and the Lords taken in Colchester, according to Godwin, himself an admirer of Ireton's character.

guage of the profane, "went in for a fifth king when there were but four in the pack." Imprisonment and disappointment converted the wild demeanour of his earlier days into that fixed enthusiasm which imparted so much dignity and grace to his conduct when arraigned before his mean and insolent judges, and which accompanied him through the dreadful ordeal of a barbarous execution.

And this reflection leads us to the trials of the regicides, with a short-a very short-abstract of which the volume before us concludes. We sincerely wish that the author had omitted altogether this part of his labours. We cannot but look with very different eyes from him on a series of transactions which he dispatches with few comments, and those chiefly laudatory of the conduct of the Commissioners who presided at these trials. Surely some notice was called for, from a writer who labours so zealously to raise our indignation against the crimes of the regicides, of the treacherous device by which some of them were entrapped; of the "deliberate breach of faith," (to use the words of the impartial Hallam, whom our author quotes with praise where their sentiments are in accordance) through which two of them at least (Scroop and Carew) were conducted to the scaffold.

"These niceties of the law," says our author, speaking of some legal subtleties in the indictments, "which may appear trifling to thoughtless persons, show the conscientious regard paid to established forms and principles by the judges of the land, when proceeding to judg ment on the most heinous criminals against the father of their Sovereign. They place the proceeding in the most striking contrast with that shameful mockery of all rules and principles which had been resorted to for the destruction of Charles the First." To us they appear little better than a cruel affectation of lenity, where the destruction of the accused was predetermined. It must be remembered that these tender-hearted formalities were coupled with the most obdurate resolution not to hear a single word in argument or the only defence which the prisoners could offer. In fact, the best apology for the conduct of the judges is, that they were only meting out to the regicides the same measure which these had allowed their sovereign. "This gentleman," says the apostate recorder Wild, checking some attempt of Harrison to address the court, "hath forgotten their own barbarousness: they would not hear their King." It being decided at once, and without argument, that the authority of the powers which, de facto, governed the realm in 1648, was no justification to those who acted under their commission, the calling of oral witnesses, as in the case of the King, was an unnecessary display. The signature of each individual to the warrant for Charles's execution, was testimony enough against him. What further evidence was offered seems to have been produced merely to gratify the foul appetite which then possessed the royalists for all manner of scandal against their enemies. These calumnies, uttered by the impure lips of apostates, and contradicted wherever contradiction was possible, reflect dishonour on the court which listened to them, not on the criminals against whom they were directed.

By the way, this writer has, we perceive,

perseverance in well-doing, the moral waste may be reclaimed, and the Rose of Sharon made to flourish in every soil, and under the most inclement skies. If the results of missionary efforts have not realised all that sanguine spirits have anticipated, enough has been done to awaken the sympathies, even of the cold and calculating, who, comparing the insignificancy of the means with the magnitude of the purpose, had been induced almost to despair of Christianity and human nature. We may confidently ask what has been the success of commercial speculations compared with the difficulties which the Christian missionary has encountered and subdued? and where is the nation that has abandoned either the one or the other because an empire has not been founded in a day-or ships have been wrecked, and lives sacrificed, and millions expended in vain ? It has been proved in a thousand instances, that where the social principle has the power of developement, Christianity both assists and matures the operation; that it is, in fact, the best cement of society, the key-stone to the arch, the foundation to the superstructure. We doubt not there have been weak and inefficient missionaries, as well as indolent settlers, and unskilful navigators, and wild speculatists-but does this form an objection stronger in the one case than in the other? The question is, what has been the general result of the missionary enterprize? Has it not at least brought the principles of Christianity to the severest test? has it not exhibited the human character under aspects the most powerfully impressive? has it not produced apostles in an infidel age, and shown the triumphs of the gospel over the most formidable moral obstacles?-and is this nothing? We cannot, however, in this brief notice, follow out the general argument, We would rather at once induce our readers to peruse this most interesting and affecting work of Mr. Carne. -The theme he has chosen is evidently one most congenial with his tastes and habits of feeling and thought; and the book is just what we should have expected from the author of "Tales from the West." It is adapted to every class-to the imaginative and romantic-to the philosophical and the inquiring-to the admirers of nature and the lovers of religion. We would conclude by observing that the lives of the missionaries before us are not narratives of individuals taken from the sectarians, but ministers and agents of episcopal churches, chiefly under the superintendence of the venerable Society for promoting Christian Knowledge.

Clarenswold, or Tales of the North.

We really are good-natured, and every new aspirant, especially if he be a young man of modesty and talents, is sure of a kind welcome at our hands; if of the gentler sex, and the production be barely tolerable, our gallantry will not allow us to censure even when our judgment tells us it is our duty to condemn. But we confess this "Clarenswold" a good deal puzzles us; we cannot detect the gender of the writer-the work has neither nervous sense nor feminine grace; we never saw in man or woman such an entire want of knowledge of the human materiel, out of which tales and novels are constructed; there Sept.-XXXVI. NO. CXLI.

is not in either of the tales even an approach to the formation of a character. Nearly all the incidents are to be found in Scott's novels-most heterogeneously huddled into a mass of absur dity which sets probability at defiance. The dialogues are vulgar and gross caricatures of the works so unceremoniously laid under contribution; and the descriptions-save us from the descriptions-but perhaps our readers would like a specimen.

"The red streaks of evening have faded in the distant west; the owl hath awoke and shaken himself from the bonds of his sluggish slumber, the rural vale hath sunk deeper in the shade, and the mountain-tops, in stature magnified, scarce show their varied outlines in the murky sky; the tale of the wanderer or the recluse is now listened to with redoubled avidity, around the cheerful fire and hospitable board; while, without, the silence is broken by the whispered accents of endearment, the solemn vow, or the melancholy repinings of some secretloving pair, their solitude alone disturbed by the fitful flickering of the ominous bat, the shrill scream of the owlet grey, or, mayhap, the sportive pattering of some timid hare, as she gambols across the path. The dull morose now casts abroad his eyes, and meets congenial scenes; "The man of guilt, too, wends his noiseless way,

And cowards kill, who dare not face in day. "The sage quits his study, and, with relaxed spirit, prolonged ideas, and mind above the world, contemplates the wondrous canopy of heaven, and the bright inhabitants thereof.”

Who will be able to read Sir Walter after this! We take a final adieu of this Hetroclyte. It will be our own fault if" we meet again at Philippi." What the creature will have to do there heaven knows. We are perfectly sure that it belongs not to the class of genius, either good or evil.

An Essay on the Causes which have produced Dissent from the Established Church in the Principality of Wales: to which the Royal Medal was awarded at an Eisteddvod of the London Cam

brian Institution, held in May, 1831. The Second Edition; comprising a Statement of the Value of Church Revenues in North Wales.

This is a Chapter not to be found in the Laureate's Book of the Church. We learn, as it regards its Protestant hierarchy, that Wales is nearly in the same situation as Ireland, but from the operation of very different causes. The Church of Ireland is an exotic, and it is not wonderful that in an uncongenial soil it should not flourish. But in Wales it is indigenous, and yet there also it withers and dies.

It seems that in Ireland the Church is left desolate by an ignorant and besotted population devoted to another faith; but in Wales, we are told by the author, that dissent has advanced with knowledge, and not with ignorance; and that there is scarcely a vestige of popish super

* See Preface; we wish we had read nothing else. 3 A