"Mr. Herrman (a German Jew) rose, and protested against the facts stated in the address.

"A Jew. We von't hear no more of your nonsense, sare! (Laughter.)

"Mr. Herrman, however, loudly insisted on being heard on any points he chose to speak to; and, in order to keep to some point, he asserted that no Jews were to be found in the interior of Russia; and that therefore it was absurd to vote an address about people who were not in existence.

"Mr. Cohen rose to dissent from certain statements contained in the address; and was proceeding to express his reasons for doing so, when interrupted by the

"Chairman, who inquired if Mr. Cohen had any amendment to propose ? "Mr. Cohen.-Yes, Sir, I object to the word 'justice' being substituted before mercy.—(A laugh.)

"Chairman.-Will you propose any written resolution?

"Mr. Cohen made several attempts to write a resolution, proposing an adjournment, but he made so many blunders in framing his amendment, that the gravity of the meeting was overset. At length the gentleman who silenced the eloquence of a preceding speaker, rose, and moved that Mr. Cohen should not again address the meeting. The motion was seconded, and carried with a loud shout.

"The Chairman.—Mr. Cohen, you are not to speak any more this evening.— (Loud laughter.)

"The oratory of the meeting having been checked by the above resolutions, something like decorum was established; and the address was read, paragraph by paragraph, and ultimately approved of."--Sun.

It is not surprising that Mr. Cohen as a Jew took the alarm at the preference of justice to mercy. Justice is a quality very antagonist to the enjoyments of Judaism. It is shockingly illiberal to say it, but nevertheless it is religiously true, that from the beginning of things down to the present time, the Jews have been less scrupulous about the acquisition of property than any other description of people under the sun, the gypsies perhaps alone excepted. Their dispersion over the world had doubtless for its object the general instruction of mankind in the refinements of commerce, coarsely called cheating.

The Jews make use of a whimsical kind of argument in their remonstrance with the Emperor of Russia. They say, if we have always been such a wicked, ungodly set with religious instruction, what shall we be if you deprive us of our priests?

"THE RIVAL EDITORS.-The Bolton Express relates an odd circumstance which had just occurred in that neighbourhood. The editor of a provincial paper returning home late at night, found the body of a man hanging to a lamp-post, quite dead. As the circumstance luckily occurred on the eve of publication, he rejoiced at finding a subject for a bit of exclusive local' news; but was puzzled how to evade the vigilance of a contemporary journalist. At length he hit upon a happy expedient-he cut the corpse down, shouldered him to the office, and there kept the body until the interesting paragraph appeared. But now came the serious part of the tale: the event, of course, attracted official notice, and suspicion fell so strongly on the unfortunate editor, that he was placed in durance vile until a jury had thoroughly investigated the affair; and his innocence was considered doubtful until the remnant of the cord fixed to the lamp-post confirmed his story."

We do not see that his innocence is at all established-it is quite clear to us that the editor strangled the man in order to make a paragraph of him. With all the realms of invention open to an editor, it may seem odd that he should prefer assassination to fable; but a man of a nice sense of honour doubtless holds murder far more respectable and gentlemanlike than lying. It is notorious to all St. Giles's, that sausage-makers use nothing but fat children and punchy terriers for forced meat, and it is not easy to see why newspaper proprietors do not in like manner kill their own mutton, or in other words make their own murders. The proprietor of the M. C. declares that there was never so good a thing in his paper as the murder of Mr. Weare, and why should not some Thurtells be put on the establishments of the journals for the gratification of the public? As nothing sells so well as murders, why are they left to chance ?-why are they not regularly provided by the purveyors for the entertainment of the community?

The mechanist of the steam-coaches bears the portentous name of Burstall. His partner's name is Hill. Thus the firm suggests the chief objections to the use of their carriages, for people are prone to apprehend that in spite of all precautions they will burst all, or that if they do not they will never get up hill.

The account of the barbarous outrages committed by some soldiers of the 2d Life Guards at Windsor, is given in the Morning Post, under the head of" MILITARY IRREGULARITIES!" This indulgent description, so characteristic of the courtly Post, reminds us of a refinement arising from a similar feeling. A little boy having spat in a visitor's face, the parent reproved his guest for discovering some dissatisfaction, observing, that he should not take amiss" the exuberance of gaiety."

23d. The irrational practice of duelling is bad enough in all countries; but in the United States of America, where the stupidest false ideas of honour and courage prevail, it is to the last degree odious and barbarous. The last American journals bring accounts of the fall of Mr. W. G. Graham in a duel, arising from some trifling dispute over a card-table. The night before he went out, this gentleman addressed a letter to a friend, which we now quote:

"Eleven o'clock.

"Dear Sir, What may be the result of the unhappy rencontre which is to take place in the morning between Mr. Barton and myself, cannot of course be predicted by me. In the supposition that it will be fatal, I bid you farewell, in the only language that is now left to me. I am perfectly indifferent as to myself, but I trust most earnestly that Mr. Barton (towards whom I have not the faintest enmity of any kind) may escape. I admit that I am in the wrong-that by giving him a blow, I have forced him into the condition of a challenger; and that by not doing what he has, he would have blasted his character as a gentleman for ever. In common justice, I am bound thus to absolve him from all suspicion of unbecoming conduct respecting the challenge. The provocation, though slight, was

still a provocation which I could not overlook. It is out of the question for me to explain, retract, or apologize. I will not hear of any settlement short of some abject and craven submission from

him.

"Mr. Barton is a talking man, who dwells very complacently on his own skill as a marksman; on his experience as a duellist; and on his accuracy as a person of ton. I pretend to none of these, and therefore must oppose the most inflexible obstinacy. After he is perfectly satisfied, I may perhaps apologize-that is, in case I am fatally wounded. It is needless for me to say, I heartily detest and despise this absurd mode of settling disputes, and salving the wounds of honour. But what can a poor devil do, except bow to the supremacy of custom ? God bless you.

"W. G. GRAHAM."

In civilized Europe we do hope, nay believe, that no gentleman would have quietly permitted a friend to go out who had made this confession of error, and declared at the same time this obstinate purpose of following it up to the act of blood. The party avows that he was wrong, and yet contemplates aiming at the life of his aggrieved adversary; this is apparent from the circumstance of his only wishing the escape of his antagonist, which he might in his own mind and purpose have assured. Many men, acting up to their notions of honour, have gone out when confessing themselves in the wrong to their intimates, but with a declaration that they would receive their opponent's fire, throw away their own, and than make the amende, which, if offered before, might be attributed to a wrong motive.

The New York Evening Post, to which journal it seems Mr. Graham was attached in an editorial capacity, gives a sketch of his life, the curious falsehood of which, in the leading particulars, must be well known to hundreds in this country. It is a good example of the manner in which biography is written, and of the credit due to these memoirs sacred to mendacity. We recognize truth only in the description of Mr. Graham's talents.

ELIZABETH EVANSHAW.

Elizabeth Evanshaw, the Sequel of "Truth," a Novel, 3 vols. 8vo. London, 1827. Hunt and Clarke.

If we have hitherto abstained from noticing the novel of "Truth" and its "Sequel," it certainly has not been because we do not respect the author's talents, or consider him less entitled than others to a candid examination of his claims to public attention. The experiment which this writer has tried is a dangerous one, and we have had no wish to share his risk: his object has been to trace how far religion and morals are connected, and we are too well acquainted with the sensitiveness of the English public on religious topics to encounter a chance of being confounded with those who do not sufficiently appreciate the blessings of the Christian revelation. We do not allege that such is the character of our author, far from it but we know that the course he has taken will subject him to the charge from others. He

discusses, in short, dangerous questions; and though we declare that we never saw in any publication, manifestations of a more pious, humble, and conscientious spirit, still we will not mingle ourselves up with his cause. But besides theological disquisition, and the exemplification of his doctrines, the author necessarily in the conduct of his story goes into sketches of life, and manners, and character, disconnected with the more serious part of his task. The graphic skill of this writer in his pictures of the modes of thinking and acting of the middle classes in their social relations, his intimate knowledge of all the lanes and alleys through which a hypocritical conscience winds about to avoid the light, or of the broad and impudent front which bigotry and intolerance set against freedom of opinion, the strongly marked indications of his close observation and great experience of the working of human motives, altogether put him on that high level that demands attention, and will make his work conspicuous' in spite of accidental blemishes, or an unfavourable connexion with other subjects: they at least induce us to look at his novels in a more worldly point, without any reference to his dogmas, but solely in their character of moral satires. In our notice of the "Sequel," (for" Truth" itself has not been a long time before the world,) we shall simply confine ourselves to that which is of a general description, and which might find a place in the writings of any skilful painter of manners, from Fielding to Miss Edgeworth. Perhaps the " Sequel " is not marked by so many, or such striking examples of these qualities as in the prior part; but we believe there is plenty in it to contribute to the entertainment of our readers.

In the novel of" Truth," the birth, education, and fortunes of Elizabeth Evanshaw are narrated. It embraces the death of her father, a Highland gentleman of extensive property, the manner in which his daughter was robbed of her inheritance, the persecution which she sustained from her mother and her relatives, and the sufferings which the intolerance of mankind inflicted upon her. The heroine being ultimately induced to take the situation of a governess with a family going to Madeira, the novel abruptly closes with a paragraph from a newspaper, announcing the wreck of the ship in which she sailed, and the loss of both passengers and crew. This report was inaccurate in its details; for the opening of the" Sequel" introduces us to a Captain Seaforth, lately arrived in a town in the south-west of Scotland, inquiring for the residence of a Mrs. Munro. This lady turns out to be the identical Elizabeth Evanshaw, who has been preserved from shipwreck by the author for the purpose of exemplifying the miseries of being married to a shallow and narrow-minded husband, with low connexions. The author has doubtless other purposes; but we take this to be the most obvious one.

Before however we are informed of the manner of her escape from the foundering vessel, her social position at the seat of her husband, in the immediate vicinity of the town, is fully explained. She appears to be somewhat neglected by her spouse, to be occupied in the education of her children, and to have retreated into complete retirement from the bigoted prejudices and hypocritical censures of her neighbours, who glow with a peculiar theological hatred, and who, having learned some unconnected and exaggerated points of her history, bestow the full

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benefit of it upon her character. Captain Seaforth, the grandson of a lady of whom we hear much in "Truth," has sought the abode of Mrs. Munro, in the hope of being able to place under her protection a little niece, the daughter of his sister and a Mr. Blamire, a shatterbrained speculator, who, having failed in numberless half-digested schemes in England, has been compelled to retreat to Jamaica, with a grand invention for facilitating the pressing of sugar-canes. Captain Seaforth arrives just in time to save the little girl from sinking into the scullion's assistant at the boarding-school at which the inventor had left her, without providing funds for the discharge of her expences. Mr. Blamire had taken more care of his sons, and we will stop to transcribe the method which he adopted to accelerate the development of the genius of the eldest :

"Mr. Blamire had intended that his eldest son should be the first linguist in Britain, and that the second should have no rival as a mathematician. The elder, stimulated for some time by having his vanity worked upon, went on cheerfully, and even successfully, from the age of six to seven; but by degrees he became indifferent; indifference was succeeded by disgust; and Mr. Blamire, bearing in mind the benefit which Dr Johnson says he derived from plentiful castigation, determined to rouse the torpid faculties of his son in the same way. But he forgot two essentials which Dr. Johnson had, and his son wanted; the first, a rooted bodily incapacity for boyish sports, so that of course his spirit was not subdued by the most cruel of all deprivations, a deprivation which to a child is like want of water to a plant; the other, a genius which, though it might require now and then to be roused, ' could seize a science at a grasp. It was one of Mr. Blamire's many theories, that ' education was everything. He allowed no deviation from this axiom, except in cases of obvious idiocy; and in many of these he was quite satisfied that a little pains on the part of parents might have averted the evil. His son, naturally gentle, sunk under the exertions required of him; became hectic, but was kept at his tasks: for time lost is not to be redeemed, and the ductility of the yet tender memory must not be suffered to pass away unessayed." His mother, in spite of her usual blind devotion to her husband, implored him with tears to let the child die in peace. He assured her she was mistaken, and that the boy merely required a little moral excitation; therefore he would for the present change his studies, though it was a monstrous pity ever to lose sight of the grand fundamentals in education.' He immediately purchased thirty or forty volumes of tales, &c. &c. ; the unhappy boy sickened at the sight, turned over a few pages, tried to smile ; but even the wish to please could not force an affectation of taste. A few weeks after this fresh moral excitation,' exhausted nature gave up the struggle, and the little victim breathed his last in the arms of his mother.Vol. ii. pp. 34-36.

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On no point is the author more anxious than in enlarging the ideas of his readers in matters of education, and to no subject has he attended with more judgment and discrimination. The restoration of the tone of mind in this little girl, and the gradual change from a heart-broken ignorance to a cheerful and independent docility, afford an example, along with Mrs. Munro's own children, of the writer's notions. Of the delicacy of his observation on this head we shall adduce a specimen. Mrs. Munro's children were familiar with the practice of reading aloud, and went through the exercise with the indifference of habit. The stranger looked at the books placed before her, blushed, sighed, and laid them aside. We shall see how this difficulty is treated, and the remarks which it elicits.