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tract of land along the coast of the Indian ocean, from the
In the presidial councils
, one class of members uniformly oppose another, and all are decided against the bench of king's judges, while his majesty's officers and army treat with contempt those of the Company. Can such a state of things long resist the machinations of a vigilant and observing enemy like Buonaparte? If it should, its rulers must ascribe it to blind fortune, and not to political wisdom. India, however, like all tropical climates, is not the land of patriotism, still less is a regard for the public welfare a virtue of adventurers; its fall therefore will be coolly and carelessly antici
* The late case of Lord Lauderdale strikingly illustrates the absurdity of a system, in which political measures do not rest on their propriety, or the authoritative judgment of an individual, but on the intrigues of opposite and contending interests.-Rev.
pated, while the fortunes of the guilty authors of its ruin will be fully sufficient to procure them a temporary immunity from condign punishment.
In these observations, Mr. Chatfield will perceive, that although we venture to pronounce the over-land march of a French army to India highly improbable, if not impracticable, and certainly unnecessary; yet we are far from wishing to defeat the object of his public-spirited efforts to attract the attention of statesmen to the imminent dangers and perilous situation of the British settlements in the East. On the contrary, we are gratified to find a work founded on historical facts, which may perhaps enable our legislators to form mure just and practical notions of what our Indian government should be, what are the dangers to which it is.exposed, and what are the indispensable means necessary to its salvation. We believe, few, if any, of the directors, do not now feel the necessity of a general and radical change in the India system; they know its weakness too well not to be convinced of its incapacity to resist French intrigue, and more than one of them, we have been assured, lately sold out India stock to a considerable amount. It is indeed impossible that men can shut their eyes on the rapid progress of French missionaries, as well as French emissaries, in the very centre of the British possessions. It is a fact not less true than extraordinary, that, in the jurisdiction of the presidency of Fort St. George alone, there are upwards of 400,000 French Papists, all of whom are French au caur, and the most decided enemies to Protestants. These men, although nominally Christians, joined the Hindus, and assisted in the massacre of the English at Vellore. The number, indeed, and influence of the Papists in Hindoostan, and their sanguinary hostility to Protestants, as well as their arts in exciting the same hostile spirit in the placable Hindus, have at length attracted the attention of the discordant rulers. But it is now, perhaps, too late to remedy the ruinous consequences of such policy, when the enemy is at the gates. How, we may ask, did the zeal of the enemies to the conversion of the Hindus slumber, while near balf a million were converted into French papists before their eyes? Were they less apprehensive of the ulterior effects of papistical superstition than of protestant rationality did they suppose popish slavery more
congenial with Indian despotism? but, above all, did they
We have now to proceed to Mr, Chatfield's “Historical Review;" but as we have detained our readers so long with his “ Introduction," we must defer the farther consideratio! of the work till our next.
(To be continued.)
The Remains of Henry Kirk White, of Nottingham, late of
St. John's College, Cambridge, with an Account of his Life
WHEN genius, sensibility, purity of heart and conduct,
the heart, and rigid the judgement, that feels "not much more disposed to admire and to sympathise, than to criticise or condemn,
Recollection does not present to us, of its size and kind, a more interesting work than the Remains of Henry Kirk White by. Robert Southey. It consists of his life, neatly and feelingly drawn up by the editor; a number of letters to different relatives and friends; many poems and fragments; and some prose compositions. Much praise is due to Mr. Southey for the selection now published, since nothing appears but what will add to the tender sympathy which every feeling mind must experience for so amiable a being Embued with the most susceptible and energetic mind, the most ardent thirst for knowledge—there wanted but the influence of a true religious principle to restrain and regulate the effusions of his genius, and the movements of his heart; and happily for his peace and for his fame, it was not long wanting. How touchingly does he, in a letter to a friend, describe his first inward conviction of the true religion, from the perusal of Scott's Force of Truth:
" It had," (he says,) " convinced him of his error; and so thuroughly was he impressed with a sense of the importance of his Maker's favour, that he would willingly give up all acquisitions of knowledge, and all hopes of fame, and live in a wilderness unknown till death, so he could insure an inheritance in heaven,"
To the gay, the prosperous, and the healthy; to those who seem to tread upon adamant, and to fear no changes; this, and many subsequent expressions, may appear strongly to savour of what is termed methodism: but to those who have, with mute and unavailing anguish, seen youth and beauty sink into an early grave, their dearest hopes torn from them, this glowing testimony to the triumphant superiority of pure religion, in such a mind, will be truly valuable. With a soul too ardent and powerful for the tender frame it animated, an habitual conviction of his
very fragile tenure of existence, seemed to be gradually detaching' him from this world, and purifying his heart for a more exalteil state. His mind and body being so unequally matched, it cannot be sufficiently lamented, that some kind friend had not exerted his influence to check, rather than to stimulate, his exertions; to have drawn him cccasionally to a little easy relaxation and amusive trifling, ina stead of aiding him to make the last effort of exhausted
No. 130. Vol. 39. April. 1809.
powers; for he appears to have fallen a sacrifice to suche ardent and excessive application,
Of the letters, those to Mr. B. Maddock are in general the most interesting, as being to his most intimate friend. The following will find its way to the heart.
die Perhaps it may be, that I am not formed for friendship; that I expect more than can ever be found. Time will tutor me; I am a singular being, under a common outside. I am a profound disa sembler of my inward feelings, and necessity has taught me the
I am long before I can unbosom 10 a friend; yet, I think, I am sincere in my friendship. You must not attribute this to any suspiciousness
ss of nature, but must consider that I lived seventeen years my own confidant, my own friend; full of projects "and strange thoughts, and confiding them to no one. I am habitually reserved, and habitually cautious, in letting it be seen that I hide any thing. Towards you I would fain conquer these habits; and this is one step towards effecting the conquest."
To those who require an explanation of this, we are unable to give it; it may be felt, but cannot be demonstrated: The mind that has no feelings but in comnion, loses much of its inward worth. The great Bacon says, “it addeth no small reverence to men's manners and actions, that they, be not altogether open.” One long letter to Mr. Charlesworth must, we imagine, prove highly acceptable to every serious mind. Perhaps it may be deemed high treason against the majesty of Apollo, to acknowledge ourselves more interested by the letters, than even by the poetry of this young genius; and for this reason, that, written in easy confidence to bis intimate friends, they exhibit, as far as it is possible to do, the hcart of this truly amiable young man; a heart of purity, piety, and affection; such a one as may be laid open without hurt to any one. The following remarks, so just and so important, we cannot deny ourselves the indulgence of transcribing.
“ If polite letters were merely instrumental in chearing the hours of elegant leisure, in affording refined and polished pleasures, un. contapiinated with gross and sensual gratifications, they would still be valuable; but in a degree infinitely less than when they are considered as the handmaids of the virtues, the correctors as well as the adorners of society. But literature has of late years been prostituted to the purposes of the bagnio. Poetry, in particular, arrayed in her most bewitching colours, has been taught to exercise the arts of the Leno, and to charm only that she may destroy. I call to witness Mr. Moore, and the tribe of imitators which his success has called forth, that