The American Presbyterian. (Philadelphia) 1856-1869, October 24, 1867, Image 2

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    ttinsiptallaitrt.
FROM OUR SPECIAL EUROPEAN CORRES
PONDENT.
THE LATIGHAM HOTEL,. }
LONIiON, Aug. 17, 1567.
DEAR EDITOR : There is so much to see here
in . London that we feel as though we could spend
a month looking about us, and See new things
every day.
WESTMINSTER. ABBEY
her a fine historic study. In the nine chapels
which surround the rear of the building, no - less
than thirteen cif the former kings and queens of
_England lie buried, beside dukes and duchesses,
earls and countesses, bishops and deans by the
score. Here is the tomb of Queen Elizabeth,
and on it lies her effigy in alabaster, all dark and
dingy in color, but perfect in its carving. Her
likeneae is a good one, as we suppose,—slightly
Rom in nose and firth countenance. Around her
neat is carved her pearl necklace, also her large
peed ear-drops. A golden Collar, which former
over her breast below the necklace, has
been taken away, but the marks of the fastenings
still appear. She wears the immense ruffled frill
around her neck, and the whole dress is so much
like the pictures we see of her that we almost
feet as though we 'saw her dead corpse lying there,
'and not lifeless stone. Overhead is a handsome
canopy in marble or alabaster, supported by fonr
'columns of yellow colOred alabaster, once hand-
Seine; but now dark, almost black, with age. The
inscription is difficult to decipher, but speaks of
her being the " Mother of her country, the pat
manes' of religion and learning—that she en
riched England, &c., &c., being for forty-five
years a virtuous and triumphant queen," Slc. In
the eame tomb lies the body of Bloody Mary,
without any 'separate monument. Not far away
•
is the tomb of Mary Queen of Scots, whom Eliza
teeth beheaded. The two tombs resemble each
other very much, and were built by the Same
monarch; James I, eon of Mary Queen of Scots,
ada successor to Elizabeth. The two effigies are
mach alike, as are 'the canopies and columns.
The' same sculptor' executed both. What levellers
death and time are!
The chapel of King Henry VII. is a marvel
of tilaborate workmanship. Fine Gothic arches
support a roof of finely-carved stone-work. Over
a hunared statues of saints and martyrs in niches
stand around the walls, while stained windows
throw mellow light upon it all. In the centre
is the tomb, of Henry VII. and his queen, sur
rounded by a high railing of finely wrought brass.
Overhead hang old• banners, falling to decay—
banni3rs of the Knights of the Bath.
The chapel of Saint Edward is very interest•
ing. Here lie Edward 1., Henry 111. and Queen,
Richard 11., Edward 111., Henry V. and Queen,
—monarchs who flourished between five and six
hundred years ago. Here is the chair which
every monarch has sat in at the time of their
coronation from the time of Edward 1.-1307
down to Victoria. It is a square oaken chair,
with high, pointed back, and square sides up as
high as the arms rest. Many names are cut on
it roughly with penknife; but it is now kept be
hind a rail to prevent its further mutilation. A
large square stone is fastened under the seat,
which Edward I. brought from Scotland, and
which, legend says, is the identical stone Jacob
slept upon in Palestine, when he saw the vision
of the angels, and which was taken to• Scotland
long before Edward's day. Edward's tomb was
opened ninety years ago, by some, antiquarians
who doubted its genuineness. His body was
found' in good preservation, having lain from
1307 to 1774. It- had a velvet robe on, beside
one. of gold tissue, a scepter in each hand, and a
crown on the head.
The tomb of Henry V. bears his effigy, carved
in oak, and formerly plated with silver, with a
head, of silver, but the head and plating are gone.
Above it, fastened on a beam, are the helmet,
shield, and saddle which the king - wore when he
fought at Agincourt
The various monuments and tombs all around
the Abbey are intensely interesting. On one
side of the poet's corner stands Shakspeare in
full length; opposite him, Handel, the eompo4r,
and in his hand a piece of music, which you eau
read from where you' stand on the
,floor,
" I know , that my Redeemer liveth," that moat
sublime and inspiring air from the Messiah.
Near by are bas relievos or_ busts of Campbell,
Goldsmith, Thomson, Southey, Milton, Gray,
and many others, each with a favorite quotation,
and the date of birth and death.
But I cannot linger here. They have religious
services three times every day ‘ both here and at
Bt. Paul's, at which a choir of about twenty.boys
and men do the chanting, and a priest does the
intoning and reads the lessons. What good they
ever elspect to come of it, I cannot imagine.
Perhaps I am blind in not being able to see any.
'worship-in it at. all.- I hope-I am.
- IiOI.II3ES OF PARLIAMENT
- The Houses of Parliament are a splendid pile of
buildings, some 900 feet long, and right on the
'banks of the Thames. , At one end is an in -
Menge clock tower; at the other - the Victoria
tower, a splendid square tower, 2feet high,
with a large Gothic arch way it the' base,'uncler.
which the Queen enters when she goes to Par
liament. The entrance-ways to the houses' of
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN, THURSDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1867.
Lords and Commons are beautifully decorated in
pannels and lofty Gothio curves. The walls are
handsomely frescoed with prominent events in
English history, The House of Parliament is a
much smaller fOoiri than we expected to see. A
small gallery, holding probably 150 spectators,
occupies one end of the room. At the opposite
end is a small reporter's gallery, and back of it a
grating which encloses a dark gallery for ladies.
No one in the house can tell whether there are
any ladies present or not. The body of the room
below is arranged in rows of seats facing each
other, ranged along= the two longest sides of the
room, and rising from the centre towards the
wall They are oak with green morocco cush
ions, and clown between the two rows in the cen
tre, sit the 'speaker"and clerks. Fine stained
windows admit the light. The walls and ceilings
are elaborately carved and gilded, but the whole
appearance is decidedly inferior to what 'we ex
pected. The House of Lords is -much • the same
in character, and that it has no -galleries at the
. end. It is finished up with oak and red moroc
co cushions. At one end is the throne whichthe
queen occupies when she opens Parliament. It
is a gilded'cliair and has over it a magnificent
canopy of finely. carved and gilded =work. :The
Chancellor sits upon a great' red cushion, three
yards long and a . yard broad—the wooleack. - Efe.
is the speaker of the hoilie,'ind. Wears . a wig,
which' falls to his waist. He dresses in a black
gown, and always rises when putting a inotion or
stating the question. The. lords sit around with
their hats on, but take them off when' they speak.
They are generally man -with gray kalis, and
their speaking is indistinct with a:good deal of
—"a—a"—hesitation. , We heard= the Earl =of
Derby, who spoke well after the:got started, Lord
-
Westbury., who said " Me Lud;" and went on
speaking in such a way that none but those Us'ed
to him could understan 1 a word. Then LOrd
Littleton, who said one word clearly, then.Wdbzen
all mixed up, so that the closest attention was
necessary to learn what he was talking about.
There were half a - dozen Bishops present, with
white gbwns and immense sleeve's.' The most
gentlemanly treatment we have received inz Eno.-
land, was shown us just here. One'of the ushers
told a member of the Peers who 'we were 'and
that we wanted admittance. With pleasure,
sir; bring your lady right here, Sir, , and. I will be
happy to take her. to the ladies' gallery, where
she shall see the house, - and you shall. have' the
proper' pass for yourself." It was Sir James
Brady who not only took us in, but pointed out
D'lsraeli and other celebrities who happened to
be present. My pass from the Legation, I feared,
would come tonic too late' for me, so I went with
out waiting for it, and you have here the result.
The could get`no pass for my
all, and with difficulty one ,'for myself, Without
waiting a long time.
Now a step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
BILLINGSGATE MARKET
I wended my way, one- cold, wet morning, to
the Billingsgate. Fish . Market. A square before
you reach it, the street is jammed tight with
carts and wagons of all descriptions: The police
can't keep it. clear. Along the side-walk you
meet scores of men carrying on their heads boxes,
baskets, barrels of fish. All is dirt, slime, and
crowd. The market is 'under a large' shed some
200 feet square. Inside are' spread out salmon
of Splendid apikea.ra.nce, eels, flit fish or soles, and
mackerel by the thonsand. The crowd .of dirty
men and women is dense; the noise is Babel in
tensified. Screanis, shouts, ; hallooing, fill the
air. There are eight or nine stands where they
are selling fish in boxes by auction. Menare pass
ing up from the vessels at the dock, with heavy
boxes of fish on their heads. They throw them
down on a platform before an auctioneer, who
cries them off at the top .of his voice. In three
seconds they are on the head of another man
being carried off. A man with a barrel of 'fish
on his head walks along the narrowpath
,between
the stalls. He hits the one walking ahead of
him, in the back of the head with:his barrel; and
knocks the head of his neighbor against the bar
rel on the other man's head just beyond; the
other ,man had stopped a moment, while the line
behind continued moving. There is a scream and
'hard words follow. A boy with two big empty
bex.es on his head knocks them against a man's.
nose The tkixes fall; the man slaps The boy's
face; the lioy screams out and shows fight. Ali
this amid noise and din and racket and smell
such as no pen can describe. The noise is heigh-:
tend by women selling, combs and pocket books,
boys selling shoe-laces—all crying at, the top' of
their voices; while on the street Abase by, the
horses are stuck fast,,the driVers shouting, horse's
hoofs slipping on . the smooth, wet stones—all
this with the ,:ceaseless cry of the eight or nine
auctioneers, makes such a confusion as is seldom
heard outside of Billingsgate.. watched the
boxes and barrels both before and behind :me,
and made my way out very carefully, after taking
a survey of the place. „ IV. M. ;
REV. DR. HIOKOK r (0. BO
The Rev. ,Dr. Hickok, of Scranton, Pa., was
taken with , a paralytic stroke in the pulpit, last .
Sabbath evening, the-13th -inst.: 'ln closing his ,
sermon, it was observed that he spoke somewhat
unnaturally ; biit he offered- a very short .prayer,
afterwards; gave ottt gumber- ofthe . , ~ bir
ymip
be sung, without reading it, beckoned to a physi
cian in a pew before him and sat down. The
physician Went to hi
Hickok said : " I am
is immediately, when Dr.
'parilyza---have the con
'
1 These were the last words
One of the elders an
the Dr., and said the con
without the benediction.
it places arrested by great
while their pastor was car
py his friends.
tprned from Europe but
ere he went as a delegate
finch of the Presbyterian
1 Assemblies of Scotland
in good health; but re
es, probably, with too much
..•.- of five months. His con
,.. his physicians as very
gregation dismissed."
be Was able to Speak.,
nounte.o4,lllness of!
gregation would retir
All, however, kept t
solicitude and interes
ried from the church
Dr. Hickok had
three weeks since, w
from the Old School
church, to the Gene
and Ireland. He wa
sumed his pastoral du
absorption, after a rec
dition is regarded
!sterei..the communion in
I ived seven new members
the evening, he preached
we-have fnot aligh-priest
fed with the feeling of our
All points tempted like as
•n. , 'Let us , therefore_come
re of grace, ithat we may ob
!, grace to, he'p in , time of
(assurance for-a servant of
ic ministrations with. • .
Dr.
,Hiakok. adni
the morning, and re
to the church. In
Trout the. words: "F
which cannot be•toue
infirmities.; but Was.
.we are,-yet without:
boldly 'unto the thro./
min mercy, and fi.
need." . A beautifu
_God:to close his pu.
',PALESTINE. No. XIV.
LETTERS FRO
D PAYSON, HAMMOND• =
BY'RtV: EDWA
~ .. .
This. I think urna be my last letter from the
Holy Land. Very iaany • objects of -deep inter
est hate claimed on :attention of which. I have
not had •time to write.:.; .- - . .
When we reached , Jaffa the 13th of December,
it had been just a 'synth since we left Beyrout.
0 hoW much we hart seen and learned in those
thirty. days! We '' ight have, spent years in
reading: the most . c itical .commentaries on the
word .of God and ye not hate i learned as much
as during• our the
Holy Land. . 1
We had nodiffie4ty in settling with.our,Drag
oman Michael Hany.. He lept al' his promises;
our party of four paid. him five poundal - end five
shillings4v day, and iwe had all we. could rea.soria
bly have desired: Our food.wae. bead than. we
had in many. Ooritineittal Hotels. Eighteen
horses and mules were required' to--carry 113 and
all that was needed for our long journey. We were
glad we paid our gciod. Dragoman all he asked,
for we 'should have .had no conscience .to. have
urged him to a lower- price. If we were going
again• , through`Palest:me , we would telegraph to
Bejrout and secuWl - lichael. If not going
thoughthadeserk'AMoild not on any account
take a dragoman in Alexandria. While .in that
city we were constantly besieged with dragomen
who insisted od our reading:their credentials, but
we were glad that we had not been persuaded to
take them andhad waited until we reached Bey
rout: . : . '; ' • - _
Our bronzed-faced muleteers and <servants had
become quite endeared to, us, and when we gave
them some tokens of our affection, `at parting
they kissed our hands and seemed quite over
come with emotion.; Antoine, the youngest, of
about fourteen years, had often amu.ed us with
his broken English• and curious antics; though
be: walked nearly alt the way he never seemed
tired. Selim,.Miclael's son, was: a fine young
man, and would have liked to go with us to
America. Sullimarriwhol had: been a servant to
Dr. Barclay, formerly American consul at Jeru
salem, had. exalted ideas of America and a' great
desire to go there. Mustapha the Musslutuan,
the dignified owner ofAhehorses, appeared some
what moved when he saw us really stepping into
the boat. W_e_did-noLfamet to bid_our horses
good, bye as we save ,them a firtal crust of bread.
My wife willeoiip : trietpoo: l )-artifii with her
noble Charlie, 'who hh.d i iie‘ei made a misstep all
the way, and was tWe'l fileet •horse of the party.
'We were all saddenett 'at - the -thought of parting
with both men and ii ones.
But bow to get from the shore to the ship be
gad:A° absorb our attention:: There is no harbor
at Jaffa, and many alife has been lost in rough
weather in trying to get to and from the steam
boats. The so-called harbor we foUnd full of
rocks, but our 'boattben' succeeded, though the
breakers were high, in getting between the rocks
in safety to the boat. We were. specially grate
ful-to God 'that -our journeythroug,i the Holy
Land was accomplished'and we were all on board
a good steatherliomeWurd bound. We found it
necessary to , wait several hours before weighing
anchor.
• Let us now-from. the • ship--take a bird's eye
`view: :Of • ; ' ' ' - •'•
Those who.have been there will agree with me
that "distance lends enchantment to the view."
From this distance its appearance is pleasing, but
who would wish' toclive in such a city?. No
_sidewalks.; crooked, filthy, slippery,streets ; housds
fall huddled, together, ; an- , incessant , tumult of
boys, dogs and, donkeys •with only one gate, and
that,so crowded that lit is with no little difficulty.
; we force our way through. :
Q how, often have I thought of my old class
on'ate, Rev. Samuel ,j , ,essup, Jiving in Sidon, a
r place , not.-much ,more. Attrivntive in -appearance,.
carkff..ef 460x:other in Beyreut, foritlwone object
of seeking to win souls to Christ. Jaffa is bit
a swill city of some 5,000 inhabitants, 1000 of
JA_TPA
wham are Christians, 150 Jews, and the rest
Moslems.
There we learned
THE MEMORY OF DORCAS
was still venerated. On the 25th of M'ertrgireat
number form a procession and proceed into the
country to the so-called, " House of Tabitha," a
mile distant from the town. We were glad to
sit quietly and look at Jaffa rather than to be
obliged to walk about its filthy streets. We were
tired of oriental cities with incessant barking of
their dogs. If dogs were as numerous in Bible
times as now, we do trot wonder that so frequent
mention is made of them, and that so often they
are compared to fierce and - wicked men, as in
'the Messianic Psalm (xxii, 16,) " For dogs have
compassed me about, the assembly of the wicked
have enclosedme, they pierced my hands and my
feet." As these dogs have no owners, but sleep
where night overtakes them and:live by plunder,
so those wli6se natures" have' not heed changed
are living without' 'a lioine, wanderers "without
God and without hope in the world," to whom
'the words are addressed, "Will a Man.-:..rub Una ?
yet 'ye have robbed me."
In DamascUs especially we heebeen constant
ly tormented with the constant barking and
fighting of the dogs. Among the ruins of Jez,
reel we found a great number of the cabin e species,
ionic of which looked fierce enough' to have been
,
desceedants of thelones that ate up 'Jezebel. In
the days of the prophets there must have been
another race than these' animals, for in speaking
of unfaithful watchmen on the walls of Zion he
calls them " dumb dogs that cannot- bark," yea
lie says " they are greedy dogs that cannot have
enough." (Isa. lvi. 10.)
The race of dumb dogs" in Palestine mast
have become extinct; for - We never found-any
such. God grant there may not be found any
" dumb dog s " on the' walls of Zion ! Rather 'may
they everywhere heed GOd's command, "Cry
aloud;spare not, lift up thy voice like a Unit:4)a,
and show my PcOple their tiansgitssions,. aid the
house •of Jacob theii sins." (Isa..lviii.
As we sat there on deck looking at Joppa we
thow7ht of the time when Jonah " fled froin the
preience 'of the Lord and went to JOppa," where
he found a ship gbii% to Tarshiat. God
followed him' and brOuolt him baCk to the Per
formance of his unpleasimt mission to the people
of Nineveh. •
In that harbor before us once lay the floats of
pines and cedars from the sides of Lebanon. (2
Chron. xi. 16.) There, at the foot of, those
sand hills before us, it was, that four thousand
hriman beings were slaughtered at the command
of Napoleon.: br Porter thus describes that ter
nple seeue. the, 44th.. of *arch,lp9„
Jaffa was invested by the French under Napo
leon. In two days a breach was made by , the
cannons and declared practicable : The town
was carried by storm and delivered over to the hor
rors of war, which never appeared in a form
more frightful. During that scene of slaughter
a large part of the garrison, consisting chiefly of
Albanians, took refuge in some old khans, and
called out from the windows that they would lay
down their arms provided their lives mere spared;
but otherwise therwould fight to the last ex
tremity. Two officers, Eugene Beauharnois and
Crosier, Napoleon's own aides-de cathp, agreed to
the proposal, and brought them out disarmed in
two bodies, one consisting of 2500 men and
the other of 1500. On reaching the head-quar
ters Napoleon, received them with a stern de
meanor, and expressed his highest indignation
:against his aides-de camp, for attempting to.en
cumber him with such a body of prisoners in the
faini-hing condition of his army..: The prisoners
were made to sit down in front of the tents, their
hands, tied behind their backs. Despair has al
ready pictured in every face,• for the relentless
frown of the, general and .the gloomy whispers
of the officers could not he mistakin. . But no
cry Was uttered, nod semblance of cowardice ex
hibted. With the calm resignation characteris
tic of the Moslem spirit and faith they yielded
to their fate Bread arid water were served out
to them, while a council of war was summoned to.
deliberate.: For two days the 'terrible question of
life-or death was debated. Justice, 'common hu
manity, were not without their advocates ;' but
savage barbarity, under the bailie of political ne
cessity, prevailed. The committee to whom the
matter was referred-unanimou s ly reported that they
should be put-tO death, and Napoleon' immediate
ly signed the fatal order l On the 10t1r,of March
the frightful tragedy was brought to a close. The
whole of the prisoners were marched down to
the sand hills On the emit firmly fettered ; and,
there they were arranged in small squares for ex
-ecutiori, The French soldiers mere draMn up in
front with a full supply cif 'ammunition. A few
minutes were allowed the victims to prepare for
death. In the stagnant pools among which they
were placed they performed their ablutions ac
cording to the rules of their faith; and then ut
,tered a few words of prayer. Taking, each other's
hands, after kiving placed- them on their. hearts
and lips, they gave and received an - etern i ll.
adieu. They made a last appdal---tmt to the
humanity of. Frenchmen ; for- that they saw would
be useless, but to the,capitulation by which their
( lives had .been, guaranteed. The-, only answer
they heard mas;the. command Sex! .thee soldiers-to
: fire. Volley !after 'volley, Nas-:poured in., upon__
them. For hours together nothing was heard
but the rattle of musketry and the shrieks of
the wounded and dying. One young man burst
his bonds, threw himself among the horses of the
French officers, and embracing their knees, ha
plored them to spare his life. No wild Bedawy
of the desert could have resisted such an appeal ;
yet Frenchmen sternly refused, and be was bay
oneted at their feet. An old chief, slightly woun
ded, had strength enough left to hollow out with
his own hand a rude grave in the soft sand; and
there, while yet alive,- he was interred by his fol
lowers—themselves sinking into the arms of
death. After the massacre had lasted some
time,, the horrors that surrounded them shook the
hearts of many, especially the younger part. Sev
eral broke their bonds, dashed into the sea, and
swam to a ridge of rocks beyond the reach of
shot. The troops made hig,its to them of peace;
and when they-dame hick murdered them! Four
thousand human beings were thus butchered ;
but the vengeance of Heaven followed their
murderer to the rocks of , St. Helena."
I am sorry to close this 'letter with such sad
voids; but' it is already too' long; and we must
now 'fart' with the land of ' the Bible and the
, hone - of Jesus.
KID-OLTVED REFORM.
• Why is it that 304:ailed: respectable men and
writers, are so often fowl enlisted against the
only, Temperance measures likely to prove suc
cessful? That the distiller, the wholesale dealer,
and the tapster„, who supply the public, and indi
viduals with. in.toxicating drinks, should oppose
whatever is likely , to place their craft in danger,
is to be expected. But it•is from the so-called
respectable class_that the advocates of Temperanc e
Continually meet the most serious obstacles to re
form.
If the aid of legislation, for instance, be
sought to repress the increase of the dens where
the vicious resort fOr their gross indulgence and
obstreperous riot, the &Fge from the respectable
opponents,
,is, that , temperance ,men "are endea
voring to make society moral by law." When en
deavoring to restrain the flood of intoxicating.
driok thatis being poured forth around us, " why
they,sre for restricting individual freedom and
tyrannically deciding who shall and who shall not
drink kglass.of wine."
", There ire few persons , of intelligence and ed
uc,ation,'' says ,one of these genteel moralists,
"who are not tronbled, every day by the feeling
that they do too little for the promotion of human
happiness and virtne„ Even the most besotted
votary,of fashion feels now and then little twing,-
es of remorse when { be sees, how much drunken.
ness and, poverty , and,ignorance and vice there is
about him..aod thinks how little he does to les
sen Of course the' ;snore highly cultivated a
person's moral nature the acuter will these panp
be."
Alas I for all true progress and the real " pro•
motion of human happiness and virtue," if these
occasionally troubled feelings of the intelligent
and educated, and the little twinges now and then
of the •. votaries of fashion" were all to whieli
society could look,for its elevation from crime anti
misery I
In fact, more than most others, it is these very
classes, the votaries• of fashion and the intelke•
tually moral, that present barriers inst:ad of aid , ,
to social reform.
Further on the same writer denounces legal
opposition to the spread of intemperance on land.
er ground, viz: " that this is not the way God ill
tended the work to be done."
He then submits as a remedy for this InightY
evil of ours a theory (not quite original) of hie own.
It is, in his own language, " to be put down by
the voluntary efforts of those who hate it, work
ing- through pure living, pare literature. pare
teaching, through the ponstant practice of hu
manity, through care in the education of childra
--the Abundant supply for the poor and weal:
refining and civilizing influences."
This, dear reader, is something pleasant to wite
and agreeable to read. But it is indeed only the
.old theory that has always seemed promising . , 0 3
paper. Yet for the absolute over -mastering or
.huge abomination, that has to this hour bufliell
the- ablest of statesmen and the most ardent of
philanthropists, it has proved utterly inadegtutte ,
It is worse than absurd r it is criminal. It argues
on the part of him who advances it, either a
position to, belittle the magnitude of the evil '°
question, or, unpardonable ignorance of the iDs'
and the agencies .whose pleasure - and gain it is"'
keep this heinous immorality alive among it'•
The suggestion that reformers are in too Oh
baste generally; that it were better to ao" ,t '
." God's processes,"—a somewhat strange. it . n `
irreverent manner of expressing
limy be answered by the remark, that tiir.,al;
man to argue against progress, however rapl4,•lo
science or in the arts, would surely subject 11 ..
a queer nu,
to, the ridicule or pity of most intelliffmni
Whence , then, comes
. this . strange apprehee'l
_that society may becoine moral too soon.
In corielnaicin, What society most needs is ,u re
Surely, otipenetitst4).reform; not twinges ?l a.
morse in the.votaries of fashion, when co ll. "! iv
perchance, by some.special spectaclet,
woes; or troubled feelings, merely. fro!
'quarter, but, pure and elevatedexample and tt
Heat efforts for its irepilivenient. Neither 11
" actite - pan t o*
ige of the the highest cultivated 1115;
nat ~,
least public benefit, so log
sufferer continues , to allay them in aoN of
mentiof hostilityh
~t ose, who arc
fatly in the"field - ' I reform.
prac t a ••1..:
-iniareprei3eration' or over-nervousiii,
•.
laws be too actively enlisted in the rel'r e- • ')i
vice. F. l'