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he hears of himself. Rumour will tell him of his having done, or being about to do, what never once entered his thoughts. What he has said will be reported in a style so reckless of truth as to be equally astounding. Misapprehension and misrepresentation are alike manifest. Were we, indeed, in search of evidence of the degraded state of thought and feeling, so deplorably prevalent, and of the necessity of greatly augmented means for enlightening and elevating the popular mind, this one fact might be regarded as conclusive and sufficient.

It could be no secret, therefore, in Merston* and its neighbourhood, that Adams and his family were now in trouble; and it were vain to expect that rumour described accurately the circumstances which had just occurred, much less the cause of their occurrence. It was said that John, Adams's eldest son, was in prison; and his offence was variously described, till every crime that depravity can perpetrate was intimated or suggested, and the gibbet started up before the mind as likely soon to inflict the punishment which his offences deserved.

Here, however, report, as usual, was wrong and premature. John had, indeed, written to his father on being captured by the police and lodged in the station-house; but as yet he had not been before a magistrate. As a boy he had been unruly; his pugnacity was notorious in the village, and he was not a little proud of his feats of prowess. As a youth, his familiarity increased with his father's political opinions; like him, John was a great talker; his father brought him up, indeed, an orator, of no ordinary power, and always pointed him out to a stranger as a chip of the old block! When he could get any to listen, though only the lads of the village, John was glad to show that he could "make a bit of a speech;" then he became vociferous against the powers that be, and the fun that arose, often at the

expense of the would-be orator, not unfrequently gathered about him a little crowd of eager and willing, but idle and worthless auditors. On going to work in London, as a young man, he soon joined a band of the similarly disposed, and among them he rapidly became far more distinguished than his father was at the Merston club.

The events of the year 1848-to which * See Visitor of preceding months.

these sketches have hitherto been limited served as fuel to the flame long since kindled, and which he had constantly fostered in his mind. Of this there were not wanting many indications. He naturally became, therefore, to those in his district who constantly looked on to guard against an outbreak, an object of suspicion; but for a time nothing could be detected sufficiently tangible for loyal procedure. On one of these occasions, however, when at a distance from his dwelling, he attended a meeting, where the names of the speakers were not announced, under the idea that this would render them secure; he talked loudly in his usual style, and supposed he had done so with entire impunity. But a former associate, who like others had become a spy, apprised the police of the intended movement; some of whom proceeded, therefore, to the meeting in plain clothes, took down John's speech, with whose person they had been made fully acquainted, and then captured him on the charge of sedition, for " open and advised speaking against the crown and government." John consequently spent the night in the station-house, from whence he despatched, as already mentioned, a few words to his father.

It has been justly said, that conspiracy generally involves the elements of its own destruction. If the parties engaged in it are few, they are too feeble to succeed; if they are many, the probabilities of failure are proportionate, from the treachery of pretended adherents. How important is it, then, that the cause in which we at any time enlist our energies should be a righteous one: then no treachery need be apprehended; then the highest hope may be cherished of ultimate and complete success.

It is also worthy of remark, that opinions and principles alike acquire a new aspect, when their maintenance brings us into trouble. Coercion for principle -for that which is felt to be right, only renders the grasp of it more tenacious; the estimate of it rises higher in the prison-house, and prepares its occupants for the scaffold or the stake. But opinions hastily taken up, and perhaps utterly flimsy and baseless, often melt away, when trial comes, into "thin air." Certain it is that John Adams, in the station-house, was not in his own estimation just the hero he thought himself on the platform; and that his father, on reading his son's note, was quite unfitted for a speech at

the club. That its tidings were disastrous were evident in a moment, from his countenance, and the few words he muttered; and full acquaintance with them threw his wife and daughters into deep distress.

Mrs. Adams was, in many respects, a contrast to her husband. With those active, cleanly, and orderly household habits, which seem as common in some parts of our country as they are rare in others, she had little disposition to loquacity, and much quietude of spirit. Her son's course had always been distressing to her; she was constantly apprehensive of some evil issue; and though she did, by word and deed, what she considered best, the character and conduct of her husband exerted a counteractive and overwhelming energy. Her worst fears now seemed realized, and deep indeed was the anguish of her spirit.

A woman of a different order would at once have vented her feelings in violently upbraiding her husband, who was the primary cause of her sorrow. As to this there could be no possible doubt, and on such an occasion many a feminine mind would have had no calm until a tempest had passed through the house, which might perhaps have disturbed the neighbourhood. But Mrs. Adams knew all her husband's "sore places," and so far from running violently against, always endeavoured to keep clear of them; and for this, honour is due to her sagacity and affection-honour which it would be well were it more generally deserved; and now she knew he was really distressed, she would not have risked the increase of his suffering by a word or a look.

a few moments only were required to adjust her neat and not costly, but well kept and well arranged attire, and, with more than her accustomed activity, she was off.

Caleb was sincerely grieved at the tidings she brought, and heartily disposed to help her and her family to the utmost of his power. He explained to her the law as it stood; and while he did not conceal the peril that had been incurred, he did what he could to allay those fears he considered unfounded. He also wrote a letter at once to Mr. Forster, a friend in London, a solicitor, asking him to watch the proceedings before the magistrate, should the prisoner be remanded; and make every desirable arrangement for the defence, should he be committed for trial; a letter which Mrs. Adams was to post on her return.

Adams was greatly relieved, though he did not say so, at his wife's report; but as he had already made up his mind to go to London, he thought he had better be the bearer of the letter she brought. On his arrival in the metropolis, he delivered it at Mr. Forster's office, where he learned that John's first hearing had taken place, and that he was to be brought up again in three days. He was also told how he might see his son in Newgate, in the presence of the police; and an interview took place; but John's bravery in their presence was ill sustained, and his father was unfitted to restore the courage which had already oozed out, like water from a cracked pipkin.

Drearily passed the days of Adam's stay in town, with the solitary consideration of Mr. Forster's assurance that The question that arose in her mind as John was committed for trial, an able after the first gushings of sorrow was, counsel had been retained, who would what could be done? Yet to her the carefully sift the evidence, and urge whole matter was completely bewilder- whatever he could in the way of mitigaing. The images which started up before tion, but with the prevailing impression, her were like those of a dream: fitful, which Mr. Forster did nothing to abate, that undefined, changing, incongruous; no- escape was absolutely impossible. Adams thing was distinct, nothing palpable; watched eagerly, but with a chilled heart, and yet, as she looked into the mist that the formal proceedings in the police court; gathered around her, and glimpsed at the was in the gallery of the Old Bailey at the figures that darted on her view, she was trial which very quickly followed; found terrified and agonised. And then she Mr. Foster's assurance amply verified, wondered if Mr. Ford could help her: for the counsel made a powerful speech; for with a woman's tact as to character, but heard the verdict of "guilty," and surpassing that of the rougher and hardier the sentence pronounced of imprisonment sex, she had formed of him a just estimate, in Newgate for six months, in a state of as a real friend to the necessitous. On mind which discredited for a time the proposing that she should go to Mr. Ford, testimony of his ears and his eyes, and her husband made no objection, and so plunged him into a state of anxious making the best of her tear-furrowed face, and painful bewilderment.

Caleb Ford was no stranger to what was thus occurring. His London paper supplied him with its details from day to day; and as soon as the guilt of the accused was clear, he was at no loss to foretell the consequence. He had, however, scarcely read the report of the trial, than, glancing through the opened window, he saw Clare advancing, and in a few seconds the village blacksmith had passed the garden gate, and was quickly at the door of the cottage.

Clare thought he was the bearer of news which he felt to be painful; and was not a little surprised on finding that Caleb knew far more about the trial than himself. Clare was indeed heartily sorry for Adams and his family; and he was not quite easy as he remembered some things that had been said at the club, by which he thought that even he might be compromised. On the other hand, Caleb was loth to allow so favourable an opportunity to pass of producing on Clare's mind a favourable impression as to the only right course, or of deepening it, should such an impression have been already made.

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It was therefore with perfect sincerity that he sympathized with many of Clare's remarks; while he expressed his deep concern that so many persons in various parts of the united kingdom were exposing themselves to suffering, in an utterly hopeless struggle with existing authorities. "I am one," said he, warmly attached to the constitution of my country; no means of late employed in its defence have been, in my judgment, exceptionable; and on every criminal sentence hitherto pronounced, I can look with deliberation and entire approval. I would have been most cheerfully a special constable on the tenth of April, had I been in London; were it necessary I would now go in chase of the delinquents in Ireland; nor is there any effort or sacrifice I would refuse to put down all such nefarious attempts at mob domination.

"But do you think, Mr. Ford," asked Clare, "that things are going on just as they should? Might not mauy be altered for the better?"

"Most undoubtedly," said Caleb; "but how can real and substantial improvements be made? Only by moral, and not physical force. Were I to come to your club, and talk with you, and reason with you, on points about which we differed, what would be the consequence?"

"We should all listen, I have no doubt, Sir," said Clare.

"But suppose," continued Caleb, "I were to bring in a horsewhip, and lay it about the first man I saw on entering, what would be the consequence ?"

"I should think he would turn you out, if he could," said Clare.

"That would be natural," said Caleb, "and might be fairly expected. Man, endowed with intellect, reason, affection, is not to be assailed by brute force; as if he were senseless as the logs of wood which you hack and hew, till they become a cart wheel. Individually and socially, he must be enlightened to be mentally and morally improved; and he must be both, to attain his proper rank in the scale of being. I am not one of those who say, the former days were better than these; I am deeply sensible of the advantages we possess over our fathers, but not one real good was gained by such outrages as these which have recently taken place; these can have only one issue, most disastrous to those who engage in them, because they dare a conflict with a crushing and overwhelming force."

“I should think poor John Adams feels that now," said Clare.

"I hope," said Caleb, "his present experience, painful as it is, will prove truly salutary. Well will it be when men are more impressed with the power of truth. Truth is a living principle. Cast that grain of wheat into the earth, and as sure as it is a living seed it will germinate. Suppose, however, it is buried so deep in the soil that it cannot imbibe the moisture necessary to its growth; yet if dug up after the lapse of scores or hundreds of years, and its vital power be uninjured, then, if sown, it will shoot downwards its roots, and dart upwards its stem; the ear will succeed the blade, and the full corn in the ear will, in due time, be brought forth. Here, then, is a symbol of truth. Truth enters some minds, and perhaps only one; but he gives it art by his voice or his pen. Others look at it; it may be they dislike it, and even attempt to crush it, but truth defies their malignity; they might as well attempt to empty the ocean or blot out the sun. They may indeed malign, torture, slay, the man who first gave it wings; but what he thought and said, or wrote, is immortal. It is a product of the world of mind; it is an emanation from the mind of God.

"With this conviction," continued

Caleb, "when I hear of some deficiency or wrong in connexion with our further affairs, I ask myself, is it true? Would there be a real boon to the people at large if what is sought were bestowed? Then I am sure it will come. The right idea may only be in the mind of one legislator, and the rest may laugh whenever he enunciates it; but as certainly as that idea is instinct with truth it will gather converts, till it becomes as strange to object as it was once strange to applaud. And suppose that the idea arises in the mind of one who is not and never will be a legislator, what then? Why others will be brought to his views, and the multitude will increase, and the legislature itself will take up the principle, either from cordial approval, or from fear of the consequences of delay. There is a mighty antagonism in the world to error of every species and degrees; that antagonism is truth, and truth partakes of the importance of its infinite Author."

Clare would still have listened, but Caleb took out his watch, and stated that he had an engagement to which he must attend. "I would, however, add one word," he said, "before you go; Adams may perhaps be inconvenienced by the expense to which he has recently been put, by his journey and the defence of his son; here then is a sum which, without mentioning my name, you may tell him a wellwisher places at his disposal, till its return is perfectly convenient.'

"You are a gentleman, I am sure, Mr. Ford," were the words that would have passed Clare's lips; but, touched by the act of confidence as well as of kindness, his throat was suddenly obstructed, he could not utter them, and so with that movement of the upper part of his frame which was his nearest approach to a bow, he left the cottage. V. V.

THE DOCTRINE OF THE CROSS TRIUMPHANT.

THOUGH Our Lord Jesus Christ, during his personal ministry, spake as never man spake, testifying what he had seen and heard of the Father, yet few received his testimony. "He came unto his own, and his own received him not." Though in his own name, and by his own power, he did among them such works as no other man did; yet he was despised and

rejected of men. If the Jewish nation, which eagerly looked for the coming of the Messiah, gave him such treatment, was it probable that Gentiles, strangers to the covenants of promise, would receive him more favourably? Yet, in fact, so it was. God had foretold: "To Him whom man despiseth, to Him whom the nation abhorreth, to a servant of rulers, kings shall see and arise, princes also shall worship," Isa. xlix. 7. He, who had so little influence while he tabernacled on earth; now, when men see him no more, becomes the desire and delight of all nations. In about thirty years after Christ's resurrection, Christianity gains ground in most of the provinces of the Roman empire, and penetrates to Parthia, India, and other remote corners of the earth. Hundreds, yea, sometimes thousands, were converted by one sermon. The busy, the idle, the profligate, the civilized, the court, the camp, the schools of philosophy, all afforded trophies to the cross.

Nor did Christianity thus gain ground in a dark, illiterate, superstitious age. Never was there a period when imposture bid fairer to be detected, and every cunningly devised fable or specious argument to be thoroughly sifted. The religion preached among the Gentiles did not favour their prejudices, flatter their pride, or soothe their depraved appetites and passions. It called them to abhor what, from their infancy, they had been taught to venerate; to embrace opinions which the men of wisdom pronounced foolishness; to own One as their Saviour and Lord, who hung on a tree; and not to indulge even in sins once dearer to them than a right hand or a right eye. Great was the opposition the gospel had to encounter. The superstition of heathens, the bigotry of Jews, the wisdom of philosophers, the eloquence of orators, the ridicule of men of wit, the authority of princes, the craft of priests, joined in alliance against the gospel, with every vicious inclination, every emotion of pride in the human heart.

To oppose the efforts of this formidable confederacy, men are employed, of no rank and fortune, no power and influence, no policy or learning. The bold attempt provokes the vengeance of earth and hell on them and their followers. Yet fines, banishment, torture, death, inflicted with every circumstance of cruelty, could not deter multitudes, of the tenderest age and sex, from boldly and openly professing a

religion, against which, a little before, they had been deeply prejudiced. Tentmakers, publicans, and fishermen, by preaching the plain truths of Christianity, without the ornaments of eloquence, or enticing words of man's wisdom; by enforcing duties contrary to every corrupt affection; and by patiently suffering persecution for the word of their testimony are honoured as the instruments of accomplishing a great and most improbable change in the sentiments, tempers, and manners of men. The more they are persecuted, the more they grow. They who led them captive are themselves captivated by Divine truth. Meanness proves an overmatch for greatness, foolishness for wisdom, weakness for strength. Philosophy is baffled and silenced by unpolished simplicity. The sheep overcome the wolves, the lambs the lions, the doves the birds of prey; and the gospel treasure is in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power might appear to be of God. The gracious influences and miraculous gifts of the Spirit were the only adequate causes of those triumphs of the gospel. Erskine.

WARWICK AND ITS CASTLE.

N.

Or the baronial mansions of feudal times which formerly abounded in England, very few have been adapted to the habits and requirements of the moderns. Some, however, while presenting the external features of distant ages, impressing the beholder with sentiments of chivalry, and calling up to vivid review many an historic recollection, have been changed into the residences of the opulent, the intelligent, and the refined; and instead of sheltering a rude and austere race of mail-clad knights and their vassal dependents, have become the special retreats of wealth, literature, and the

arts.

Great indeed has been the advance of civilization, knowledge, and civil and religious liberty, since such walls could bid defiance to kingly despotism, or shelter baronial insolence. At that period, if a sovereign expected submission, he must be prepared and willing to lead his followers to battle against a rebel power; the law of might seemed to reign supreme. The monarch-while he pro

fessed to be the father of his people—was ready to desolate the home and exterminate the race of any who resisted his authority; and to those only whom he found too strong to punish, did he extend immunity for rebellion. The result was that the barbarous power with which he was thus invested, was often employed in enthralling, instead of elevating, the people over whom he reigned.

Possessed of extensive demesnes often the rightful inheritance of others, and which he had acquired only because they were too weak to defend them-he conferred them on those who aided his ambitious projects; and thus, not unfrequently finding himself independent of his people, he regarded them with contempt, and crushed them under the iron heel of tyranny. Hence arose those numerous and determined confederacies, some of the members of which appear in the annals of England's history as the defenders of her liberties; and hence the seed of freedom, which had been lying beneath the cold and ungenial soil, gradually but securely grew, imbibed rich and abundant nourishment, and now stands forth an object of wonder and admiration to all. In the enjoyment of our present security, and the prospective contemplation of Britain's history, we may indeed "thank God and take courage."

To these considerations we have naturally been led by the contemplation of Warwick Castle-the finest relic of feudal splendour in the country. Its foundation appears to have been laid before the Norman conquest; and it is probable that Ethelfreda, the daughter of king Alfred, here constructed a fortified residence.* In the reign of Edward the Confessor the property belonged to the crown, but history acknowledges no earl of Warwick prior to the one created by the Conqueror. This was a nobleman named Newburgh; and in the time of the second earl, the castle appears to have been a place of much strength and importance. Earl Roger died in 1153, and it was then garrisoned by soldiers on behalf of Stephen; but on the advance of prince Henry, who was afterwards Henry II., the widow of the earl delivered to him the fortress. William de Newburgh lived here with great splendour, and we are informed that he procured an addition of two knights to "the five knights and ten serjeants who before

* Dugdale.

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