but sincere, in their professions of re- | just, of such as die in the Lord.-The gard. They made some attempts at organ was touched with a hand less condolence;-it was too delicate for firm;-it paused, it ceased; and the their handling; but La Roche took it sobbing of Ma'moiselle La Roche was in good part. 'It has pleased God,'- heard in its stead. Her father gave a said he and they saw he had settled sign for stopping the psalmody, and the matter with himself.-Philosophy rose to pray. He was discomposed at could not have done so much with a first, and his voice faltered as he spoke; but his heart was in his words, and his warmth overcame his embarrassment. He addressed a Being whom he loved, and he spoke for those he loved. His parishioners caught the ardour of the good old man; even the philosopher felt himself moved, and forgot, for a moment, to think why he should not! thousand words! It was now evening, and the good peasants were about to depart, when a clock was heard to strike seven, and the hour was followed by a particular chime. The country people, who had come to welcome their pastor, turned their looks towards him at the sound; he explained their meaning to the guest. "That is the signal', said he, 'for our evening exercise; this is one of the nights of the week in which some of my parishioners are wont to join in it; a little rustic saloon serves for the chapel of our family, and such of the good people as are with us. If you choose rather to walk out, I will furnish you with an attendant; or here are a few old books that may afford you some entertainment within.' 'By no means,' answered the philosopher, 'I will attend Ma'moiselle at her devotions.' | 'She is our organist,' said La Roche; 'our neighbourhood is the country of musical mechanism; and I have a small organ fitted up for the purpose of assisting our singing.'-"Tis an additional inducement,' replied the other; and they walked into the room together. At the end stood the organ mentioned by La Roche; his daughter placing herself on a seat within, and drawing the curtain close, so as to save her the awkwardness of an exhibition, began a voluntary, solemn and beautiful in the highest degree. Mr. H- was no musician, but he was not altogether insensible to music; this fastened on his mind more strongly, from its beauty being unexpected. The solemn prelude introduced a hymn, in which such of the audience as could sing immediately joined; the words were mostly taken from holy writ; it spoke the praises of God, and his care of good men. Something was said of the death of the 'Twas with regret Mr. H- left a society in which he found himself so happy; but he settled with La Roche and his daughter a plan of correspondence; and they took his promise, that, if ever he came within fifty leagues of their dwelling, he should travel those fifty leagues to visit them. About three years after, our philosopher was at Geneva. While he was hesitating about a visit to La Roche, he received a letter from the old man, which had been forwarded to him from Paris, where he had then his fixed residence. It informed him of the approaching nuptials of Ma'moiselle La Roche, with a young man, a relation of her own, and formerly a pupil of her father's, of the most amiable disposition and respectable character. Attached from their earliest years, they had been separated by his joining one of the subsidiary regiments of the Canton, then in the service of a foreign power. The term of his service was now expired, and they expected him to return in a few weeks, when the old man hoped, as he expressed it in his letter, to join their hands, and see them happy before he died. Mr. H- felt himself interested in this event; but he was not, perhaps, altogether so happy in the tidings of Ma'moiselle La Roche's marriage, as her father supposed him.-Not that he was ever a lover of the lady; but he thought her one of the most amiable women he had seen, and there was something in the idea of her being another's for ever, that struck him, he knew not why, like a disappointment. After some little speculation on the matter, however, he could not but look on it as a thing fitting, if not quite agreeable, and determined on this visit to see his old friend and his daughter happy. cer, his intimate companion, and to whom, before their quarrel, he had often done the greatest favours. Her worthy father bears her death, as he had often told us a Christian should; he is even so composed as to be now in his pulpit, ready to deliver a few exhortations to his parishioners, as is On the last day of his journey, dif- the custom with us on such occasions. ferent accidents had retarded his pro--Follow me, Sir, and you shall hear gress; he was benighted before he him.'-He followed the man without reached the quarter in which La Roche answering. resided. His guide, however, was well acquainted with the road, and he found himself at last in view of the lake, which I have before described, in the neighbourhood of La Roche's dwelling. A light gleamed on the water, that seemed to proceed from the house; it moved slowly along as he proceeded up the side of the lake, and at last he saw it glimmer through the trees, and stop at some distance from the place where he then was. He supposed it some piece of bridal merriment, and pushed on his horse that he might be a spectator of the scene; but he was a good deal shocked, on approaching the spot, to find it proceed from a torch of a person clothed in the dress of an attendant on a funeral, and accompanied by several others, who, like him, seemed to have been employed in the rites of sepulture. On Mr. H-'s making inquiry who the person was they had been burying, one of them, with an accent more mournful than is common to their profession, answered, 'Then you knew not Mademoiselle, Sir!-you never beheld a lovelier-La Roche!' exclaimed he, in reply. Alas! it was she indeed!'-The appearance of surprise and grief which his countenance assumed, attracted the notice of the peasant with whom he talked. He came up closer to Mr. H-; I perceive, Sir, you were acquainted with Mademoiselle La Roche.' "Acquainted with her!-(Good God!) when-how did she die?-where is her father?'-'She died, Sir, of heart-break, I believe; the young gentleman to whom she was soon to have been married, was killed in a duel by a French offi The church was dimly lighted, except near the pulpit, where the venerable La Roche was seated. His people were now lifting up their voices in a psalm to that Being whom their pastor had taught them ever to bless and to revere. La Roche sat, his figure bending gently forward, his eyes, half closed, lifted up in silent devotion. A lamp placed near him threw its light strong on his head, and marked the shadowy lines of age across the paleness of his brow, thinly covered with grey hairs. The music ceased:-La Roche sat for a moment, and nature wrung a few tears from him. His people were loud in their grief. Mr. H was not less affected than they-La Roche arose.Father of mercies!' said he, 'forgive these tears; assist thy servant to lift up his soul to thee, to lift to thee the souls of thy people!-My friends! it is good to do so; at all seasons it is good! but, in the days of our distress, what a privilege is it! Well saith the sacred book, 'Trust in the Lord; at all times, trust in the Lord.' When every other support fails us, when the fountains of wordly comfort are dried up, let us then seek those living waters which flow from the throne of God.-'Tis only from the belief of the goodness and wisdom of a supreme Being, that our calamities can be borne in that manner which becomes a man. Human wisdom is here of little use; for in proportion as it bestows comfort, it represses feeling, without which we may cease to be hurt by calamity, but we shall also cease to enjoy happiness.I will not bid you be insensible, my friends; I cannot, I cannot, if I would, (his tears flowed afresh)-I feel too much myself, and I am not ashamed of my feelings; but therefore may I the more willingly be heard; therefore have I prayed God to give me strength to speak to you; to direct you to him, not with empty words, but with these tears; not from speculation, but from experience, that while you see me suffer, you may know also my consolation. 'You behold the mourner of his only child, the last earthly stay and blessing of his declining years! Such a child, too!-It becomes not me to speak of her virtues; yet it is but gratitude to mention them, because they were exerted towards myself. Not many days ago you saw her young, beautiful, virtuous, and happy;-ye who are parents will judge of my affliction now. But I look towards Him who struck me; I see the hand of a father amidst the chastenings of my God.-Oh! could I make you feel what it is to pour out the heart, when it is pressed down with many sorrows, to pour it out with confidence to Him in whose hands are life and death, on whose power awaits all that the first enjoys, and in contemplation of whom disappears all that the last can inflict!-For we are not as those who die without hope; we know that our Redeemer liveth,-that we shall live with Him, with our friends his servants, in that blessed land where sorrow is unknown, and happiness is endless as it is perfect.-Go then, mourn not for me; I have not lost my child: but a little while, and we shall meet again, never to be separated.-But ye are also my children: would ye that I should grieve without comfort? So live as she lived; that, when your death cometh, it may be 'the death of the righteous, and your latter end like his.' Such was the exhortation of La Roche; his audience answered it with their tears. The good old man had dried up his at the altar of the Lord; his countenance had lost its sadness, and assumed the glow of faith and of hope.-Mr. H- followed him into his house. The inspiration of the pulpit was past; at the sight of him, the scenes they had last met in, rushed again on his mind; La Roche threw his arms round his neck, and watered it with his tears. The other was equally affected: they went together, in silence, into the parlour, where the evening service was wont to be performed.— The curtains of the organ were open; La Roche started back at the sight.'O! my friend!' said he, and his tears burst forth again. Mr. H- had now recollected himself: he stept forward, and drew the curtains close-the old man wiped off his tears, and taking his friend's hand, 'You see my weakness,' said he; "tis the weakness of humanity; but my comfort is not therefore lost.' 'I heard you,' said the other, 'in the pulpit; I rejoice that such consolation is yours.' 'It is, my friend,' said he, and I trust I shall ever hold it fast; if there are any who doubt our faith, let them think of what importance religion is to calamity, and forbear to weaken its force; if they cannot restore our happiness, let them not take away the solace of our affliction.' Mr. H's heart was smitten;-and I have heard him, long after, confess that there were moments when the remembrance overcame him even to weakness; when, amidst all the pleasure of philosophical discovery, and the pride of literary fame, he recalled to his mind. the venerable figure of the good La Roche, and wished that he had never doubted! IV. THE GREAT HISTORIANS. DAVID DAVID HUME, the historian, was born in Edinburgh 1711; he studied the law, which profession however did not accord with his taste. He therefore turned his attention to literature, and in 1738 published his first philosophical work under the title of A Treatise on Human nature; in 1740 he became the author of two volumes of Essays, Moral and Physical. In 1751 he issued the former revised and remodelled, under the title of An Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals. Hume now abandoned metaphysics and applied himself to the study of history, and in 1754 appeared the first volume of his 'History of Great Britain." The unfavourable reception of this volume was a great THE ANCIENT BRITONS. All ancient writers agree in representing the first inhabitants of Britain as a tribe of the Gauls or Celta, who peopled that island from the neighbouring continent. Their language was the same; their manners, their government, their superstition, varied only by those small differences, which time or a communication with the bordering nations must necessarily introduce. The inhabitants of Gaul, especially in those parts which lie contiguous to Italy, had acquired, from a commerce with their southern neighbours, some refinement in the arts which gradually diffused themselves northwards, and spread but a very faint light over this island. The Greek and Roman navigators or merchants (for there were scarcely any other travellers in those ages) brought back the most shocking accounts of the ferocity of the people, which they magnified, as usual, in order to excite the admiration (1) of their countrymen. The south-east parts, however, of Britain, had already, before the age of Cæsar, made the first and most requisite step towards a civil settlement; and the Britons, by tillage and agriculture, had there increased to a great multitude. The other inhabitants of the island still maintained themselves by pasture: they were clothed with skins of beasts. They dwelt in huts, which they reared in the forests and marshes, with which (1) Wonder. HUME. disappointment to the author, nevertheless he persevered, and in 1757 published a second volume with greater success. A third and fourth followed in 1759 and the two last in 1765, by which time he had risen to be considered the first historian of his age. In 1764 he was promoted to the office of Under-Secretary of State, which post he held for two years, when he retired to Edinburgh, where he remained till his death in 1776. The History of Hume is more to be regarded as a specimen of a flowing and easy style, than as an historical authority; for his prejudices and indolence have caused him to state many facts which the experience of later days has proved to be untrue. the country was covered: they shifted easily their habitation, when actuated either by the hopes of plunder, or the fear of an enemy: the convenience of feeding their cattle was even a sufficient motive for removing their seats: and as they were ignorant of all the refinements of life, their wants and their possessions were equally scanty and limited. The Britons were divided into many small nations or tribes; and being a military people, whose sole property was their arms and their cattle, it was impossible, after they had acquired a relish for liberty, for their princes or chieftains to establish any despotic authority over them. Their governments, though monarchical, were free as well as those of all the Celtic nations; and the common people seem even to have enjoyed more liberty among them, than among the nation of Gaul, from whom they were descended. Each state was divided into factions within itself: it was agitated with jealousy or animosity against the neighbouring states: and while the arts of peace were yet unknown, wars were the chief occupation and formed the chief object of ambition, among the people. The religion of the Britons was one of the most considerable parts of their government; and the Druids, who were their priests, possessed great authority among them. Besides ministering at the altar, and directing all religious duties, they presided over the education of youth; they enjoyed an immunity that of the ancient Gauls and Britons; from wars and taxes; they possessed and the Romans, after their conquest, both the civil and criminal jurisdiction; finding it impossible to reconcile those they decided all controversies among nations to the laws and institutions of states as well as among private persons, their masters, while it maintained its and whoever refused to submit to their authority, were at last obliged to abolish decree was exposed to the most severe it by penal statutes; a violence which penalties. The sentence of excommu- had never, in any other instance, been nication was pronounced against him: practised by those tolerating conquerors. he was forbidden access to the sacrifices or public worship: he was debarred all intercourse with his fellow citizens, even in the common affairs of life: his company was universally shunned, as profane and dangerous; he was refused the protection of law; and death itself became an acceptable relief from the misery and infamy to which he was exposed. Thus, the bands of government, which were naturally loose among that rude and turbulent people, were happily corroborated by the terrors of their superstition. No species of superstition was ever more terrible than that of the Druids. Besides the severe penalties, which it was in the power of the ecclesiastics to inflict in this world, they inculcated the eternal transmigration of souls; and thereby extended their authority as far as the fears of their timorous votaries. They practised their rites in dark groves or other secret recesses; and in order to throw a greater mystery over their religion, they communicated their doctrines only to the initiated, and strictly forbade the committing of them to writing; lest they should at any time be exposed to the examination of the profane vulgar. Human sacrifices were practised among them; the spoils of war were often devoted to their divinities; and they punished with the severest tortures whoever dared to secrete any part of the consecrated offering. These treasures they kept in woods and forests, secured by no other guard than the terrors of their religion; and this steady conquest over human avidity may be regarded as more signal than their prompting men to the most extraordinary and most violent efforts. No idolatrous worship ever attained such an ascendant over mankind as CHARACTER OF EDWARD III. The English are apt to consider with peculiar fondness the history of Edward the Third, and to esteem his reign, as it was one of the longest, the most glorious also, which occurs in the annals of the nation. The ascendant which they began to have over France, their rival and national enemy, makes them cast their eyes on this period with great complacency, and sanctifies every measure which Edward embraced for that end. But the domestic government is really more admirable than his foreign victories; and England enjoyed, by his prudence and vigour of administration, a longer interval of domestic peace and tranquillity, than she had been blest with in any former period, or than she experienced for many years after. He gained the affections of the great, and curbed their licentiousness: he made them feel his power, without their daring, or even being inclined, to murmur at it; his affable and obliging behaviour, his munificence and generosity, made them submit with pleasure to his dominion: his valour and conduct made them successful in most of their enterprises; and their unquiet spirits, directed against a public enemy, had no leisure to breed disturbances, to which they were naturally so much inclined, and which the form of the government seemed so much to authorize. This was the chief benefit which resulted from Edward's victories and conquests. His foreign wars were, in other respects, neither founded on justice, nor directed to any very salutary purpose. His attempt against the king of Scotland, a minor, |