Coburg: but these hopes are now blasted, and in this sad visitation we receive a lesson that ought to make a deep and lasting impression upon our minds of the short-sightedness of man, and the vanity and weakness of all earthly grandeur. An occurrence, however, so deeply tragical in its own nature, and in which the vital interests of the empire are so intimately involved, it surely is our wisdom to consider well in all its bearings, and seek to make a suitable improvement of it,

Insensible indeed to every thing that is amiable in human hature, must that heart be, which could withhold its sympathy from any female who perishes in the hour of travail. In every case, even that of an obscure stranger, our feelings are wrung by emotions, little short of agony, for the mother who expires under such circumstances. But in the present instance, the victim was so young, so virtuous, so elevated in rank and accomplishments, so many high interests centered in her, so much individual and national happiness destroyed, and at the first birth too-and her infant perishing with her that infant too, a son-and all the fond hopes of herself, of her husband, of her father, of her family, and of a whole nation at once blasted-and at the very moment when they seemed accomplished-all these form in the aggregate such a complicated scene of woe as is almost too much for the firmest nerve to sustain. In this accumulated series of affliction, all public and private griefs are lost-one scene of desolation overwhelms all, from the palace to the meanest cottage.

The first effect produced by the event we are now bewailing, was stupifying. It had scarcely entered into the contemplation of any human being. The idea was so remote, so improbable, that notwithstanding the feeble tenure by which our existence is held, it seems never to have occupied the mind for a moment. It surprised us, too, amidst preparations for rejoicing. It exploded with a terrible crash amongst us, while we were waiting in humble expectation of happy tidings. Mankind are not very prone to look at the dark side of any subject: and the nation at large had built such fond hopes upon the protracted existence of the Princess, that the possibility of its being suddenly cut short did not once present itself. Besides it is unnatural to associate ideas of youth and blooming health, with those of disease and death; and the human mind naturally recoils at the thought, that happiness, as complete as perhaps falls to the lot of mere humanity, should lie at the mercy of every adverse blast, and be liable every hour to be transformed into the most poignant distress or misery. An event of this kind, consequently, always inspires ter

ror as well as grief. It places before our appalled imagination the frailty of life, and the uncertainty of our dearest connections. How mortifying to human ambition is the reflection, that what was only a few hours ago possessed of youth, health, beauty, and the highest rank; what was so recently alive to all the endearing charities of our nature; now lies insensible to every thing that is passing here below, deaf to the loudest invocations, and indifferent to the poignant grief occasioned by her death. a sight, how baseless do all our fondest visions of felicity appear.

At such

It is this association of ideas that has attached so awful a lesson, and imparted so harrowing an effect to the death of the Princess Charlotte. Her rank alone, identified as it was with royalty and the throne, could not have produced such a deep impression. Even the hopes of her future government, bright and cheering as they were, would not alone have been sufficient to mix up so much consternation with such general sorrow. Neither could her loveliness, nor her private worth, nor her exemplary conduct in the high station in which she moved, have excited this profound interest. All classes of the community, iudeed, had accustomed themselves to look forward to the period of her reign, as one that should realize the wishes, which the best and worthiest men in the country entertain on the subject of public con. cerns. Every circumstance, too, as connected with the Princess, as far as her life was concerned, seemed to promise their fulfilment. She was one of the last persons whose demise any one could have contemplated, She always presented herself to the imagination, as abounding. with health and gaiety, and as one whose path was strewed with flowers, reared by public affection. Whoever has seen her in public, must have remarked with what a zest she appeared to enjoy life, and with what a warmth of feeling she seemed to partake of its innocent pleasures. In her glance, in her smile, in the movement of her lovely head, in that of her hand or body, there was a graceful display of animated life; and numbers can well recollect, the pleasing impression which she made on her first appearance after her marriage. She visibly felt that she was universally beloved, because she was conscious that she deserved it. She was therefore desirous at every instant to return the regard which she inspired; but in doing that, there was no display of haughty condescension; it was the effusion of a tender heart, unstudied, spontaneous, and warm. She was obviously happy at the marks she received of general attachment, and solicitous to communicate back again that happiness. Ah! who that then saw her, thus lovely, thus na

tural, thus blessed with the choicest gifts that Providence can bestow, the idol of the country, and exquisitely happy in her recent marriage, could have anticipated the melancholy aud awful scene we are now recording.

The last sad office of respect and friendship to the manes of the illustrious Princess, and her progeny, was performed on Wednesday, Nov. 19th. when they were interred in the family vault at Windsor; and no awful ceremony of this kind, on the demise of any of our rulers, or of any branches of their illustrious families, has, we believe, been marked by a greater, possibly not so general and unequivocal a testimony of unfeigned sorrow and regret. The parochial churches in the metropolis, and many of the chapels also, exhibited the signs of public grief, by covering pulpits, desks, and galleries, with the sable emblems of mourning. Beside the shops being shut up with a strictness equal to the observation of the Sabbath, the coffee-house keepers and victuales united in the public expression of feeling. The far greater part of the ordinary business of the town was suspended. Private houses had their window-shutters closed in the same way as if the master, or a near family relation, had been lost. The day proving very fine, for the season of the year, vast numbers were walking out after the morning service; a circumstance which, instead of lessening, added to the appearance of national gloom. All that custom ordains as the signs of external sorrow was to be seen every where, in the public streets, in the parks, and not only there, but in the more retired and obscure parts of the metropolis. Unconfined to those to whom a change of dress is either no consideration, or a trifling one, the same sentiment operated with equal effect upon thousands whose condition approaches closely to difficulty and poverty. Among those inferior classes, there were few who had by them a scrap of black, or who could find the means of procuring it, who did not eagerly put on the visible demonstrations of their unaffected sorrow. The bells of all the churches tolled at intervals during the whole day. The charity children in several parishes bore the signs of mourning; such as the substitution of black collars or cuffs, for those of other and gayer colours: some had sable bindings sewed round their caps and their badges. Many of the female children wore black ribands. The courts of law, the public offices, the Royal Exchange, &c. were closed. Orders were sent to all the dock yards to prohibit the usual transaction of business. British vessels, and those of all other nations, hoisted their colours only half-mast high. In the different sea-ports, minute-guns were directed to be fired at night.

Nor were these testimonies of respect

to the memory of departed virtue, confined to the metropolis-We rejoice to learn from the public prints, that they pervaded every part of the empire. The country at large participated in the general gloom, and has shewn by its acute grief on this melancholy occasion that it is capable of the highest and most disinterested affection for the family of its rulers; but it is not for the trappings of royalty that they have this veneration; this tribute is reserved for virtue, and may our fellow subjects ever make this distinction. It is well known that the Princess, exclusive of her private virtues, was sincerely attached to the constitutional liberties of the country. She understood, revered, and loved the excellent system of laws and government, under which the country has acquired such a large share of practical happiness. Her father had caused to be impressed upon her young and tender mind the greatest veneration for those principles which he himself so long professed, and the opinions which she thus early embraced, her maturer judgment fully approved, so that they "grew with her growth and strengthened with her strength," nor could any earthly consideration have induced her to renounce them. To a benevolent and feeling heart, she united great firmness of character. The impressions she received at an early age, became stronger and more rooted as she advanced in years; like the incision that is made in a young tree, which, in proportion as the tree grows becomes broader and deeper. closing this imperfect tribute to the illustrious dead, we wish to urge the great moral lesson that is conveyed in her sudden and premature loss. No event could contain a more striking instance of the vanity of human hopes, the instability of worldly grandeur, and the frailty of human ties. But the memory of her virtues, public and private, will survive; and after the lapse of ages, the name of the Princess will be pronounced with love and respect; and her conduct be adduced as a bright example to her own sex, and particularly to such of them as shall move in her elevated station.

In

Free School was one day reading in a Testament, which he took with him to the School: the Master struck the child a violent blow, took away the Testament, cursed him, and asked him if he was going to turn heretic! The child told this to his parents, and they withdrew him and his sister from the Priest's School, and sent them both to mine, at which they can learn the word of God. One of the children is sensible, and commits the Scripture to memory with much eagerness. And I have since had nine or ten of the Priest's flock come to my School; some of whom he took from me at a former time. Several of his people read the Scriptures. I have given away all the Testaments which you gave me, and I doubt not but they will be made truly useful. I should also mention, that the Priest has remonstrated with the parents of the children in the strèggest manner, but all to no purpose. They told him they would not take their children from the Society's School, because they were improving in learning, and they had marked a visible change in their conduct from what it formerly was.

I am sure it will be gratifying to you to know that the youth of this amazingly wicked place are become moral: the word of God is carefully read by many both young and old, and its effects may be easily seen. The smallest children in my School will not bear to hear an oath or a lie, without expressing their disapprobation. A person told me lately of the seriousness of his children, and of their remarks at home, when they see any thing improper in his family. One child between five and six years of age, hearing her father swear, told him of God's displeasure at his couduct, and that people who acted thus would go to hell. I had this from the child's aunt, who was present; and she said, that every one was struck with amazement at the behaviour of the child.

Arian principles. Mr. Cole, upon his resignation, gave up the keys into the bands of the Anti-Trinitarian party, and when Mr. Jameson came, he found the chapel and dwelling house shut against him; he and the people were therefore compelled either to contest the matter at law, or to leave the chapel. The latter mode of proceeding was adopted, in com pliance with the wish of Mr. Jameson, who was averse to litigation; and the chapel has remained ever since in the hands of Arians and Socinians. The present Minister, the Rev. Mr. Steward, who was a professed Unitarian, was invited, in 1813, for three years. About August, 1816, Mr. Steward openly renounced Socinianism, and embraced that system of doctrinal sentiments, which was held by the original founders. This change, while in operation, alarmed some leading persons of the congregation, at the head of whom was Mr. Joseph Pearson, (son of Mr. Peter Pearson above mentioned); who, in consequence, held a meeting on the first of September, at which they avowed themselves Unitarians, and hostile to the doctrines of the Holy Trinity; and resolved, that no minister should officiate there who did not openly avow, and cordially maintain, the same sentiments. They informed Mr. Steward of this resolution, and desired him to relinquish the pulpit and dwelling house at the expiration of three months from that time, agreeing to remunerate him for his prolonged services. But before the expiration of this period, Mr. Joseph Pearson, with others of his party, unexpectedly broke in, and took forcible possession of the chapel; and closed the doors against Mr. Steward, and the congregation assembling for worship, on the next Lord's day.

In this state of things, Mr. Benjamin Mander, the only surviving Trustee legally appointed, and who had been excluded with Mr. Jameson, and others, opened the Chapel, and gave Mr. Steward possession; having no other intention, at the time, than to protect Mr. Steward, and his family of six children, from the violence of the Unitarians, who had already withheld from him the endowments. Mr. B. Mander having thus stood forward in a cause so truly interesting to the Public, took an early opportunity of conferring with the neighbouring Ministers, who encouraged him to bring the matter before the Lord Chancellor. No time was lost for this purpose, and his Lordship (from whose intermediate decree great encouragement is derived) has ordered that the endowments be paid to Mr. Steward, and that he remain in possession of the Chapel, and use it for Trinitarian worship, till the matter be finally determined by him. This is clearly a case of great public interest to Orthodox Dissenters, serving as a valuable pre