of the Pretender: at any rate, it proves it to have been at that time the generally received belief of its origin :

"The Stage, at both Houses, is the most pious, as well as most loyal place in the three Kingdoms. Twenty men appear at the end of every play; and one stepping forward from the rest, with uplifted hands and eyes, begins singing, to an old Anthem tune, the following words:

O Lord our God arise,
Confound the Enemies

Of George our King.
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,

God save the King.' Which are the very words and music of an old Anthem that was sung at St. James's Chapel for King James the Second, when the Prince of Orange was landed, to deliver us from Popery and Slavery; which God Almighty, in his goodness, was pleased NOT to grant." Victor's Letters, vol. I. p. 118.

Yours, &c.

WIT

DANGLE, Jun.

Mr. URBAN, Greenwich, Aug. 22. ITH a wish to promote further inquiry into the origin of the melody of GOD SAVE THE KIng, I beg leave to send you an extract on the subject, which I think claims attention, from one of the productions of a well-informed and accurate writer, Mr. John Pinkerton:

"The English" [Mr. P. is treating of Music] "have always borrowed from Scotland; insomuch, that the supposed National air of God save the King is a mere transcript of a Scotish Anthem, preserved in a Collection printed at Aberdeen 1682: nor is it generally known that the Ecclesiastic Musick of Scotland sometimes rivals the Secular.” Recollections of Paris, vol. II. pp. 4, 5. London, 2 vols. 8vo. 1806. Yours, &c.

Mr. URBAN,

BOLTON CORNEY.

Sept. 2.

YOUR intelligent Correspondcut,

of Authors," will find some authentic and interesting particulars respecting the origin of the favourite Air of God Save the King, in the " Proceedings of the London Highland Society."

An Admirer of Native Talent.

P. 210. b. 1. 19. read Were it ever to be introduced among us, it is not the return of antient superstition, it is not the bondage," &c..

that

Not claiming more than the common feelings of a man, I conceive Reader would feel a melanevery choly impression upon his mind, and a sympathetic concern for the surviving part of the family, who had sustained so heavy a loss. But I would willingly hope, that we should harmoniously agree in one sentiment, that the surviving branch of the family stood justly entitled to some remune ration; not only in alleviation of so great a loss, but as a mark of distinction to the memory of four Brothers, who had sacrificed their lives in their Country's cause.

1

The well-earned honours, and the pension, which the Duke of Welling ton enjoys, as well as those whicken have been conferred upon Lord Hill, Lord Combermere, and the other illustrious Generals, whose fame has roism in the Spanish War, have been been rendered immortal by their heconsidered by many not as corresponding to their respective degrees of merit. But be that as it may: far be it from me to kindle a single spark of malignant jealousy and envy in any human breast against these highly distinguish. ed characters, who now stand so elevated in the order of Society! But, as the Soldier's Friend, let me with fair and candid truth observe, that many thousand valuable lives have been lost in Portugal and in Spain; and that torrents of blood have been

shed by many of our fellow subjects,

whose families have nothing but the sad and melancholy remembrance, that they freely shed their blood, and nobly died.

I am well aware, that the stream of public munificence cannot, consistently with the resources of the country, flow but in a restricted channel. Having this necessary limitation in view, how very small would be the deduction from the Public Purse, in

the

sure. I could wish, and I would make the request, that any one Layman, or any one brother Parson in the County, into whose hand this Letter may chance to fall, would, without delay, draw up the necessary Petition, and set it forward. The wheel once put in motion, I should hope, would run with success. But some one, it matters not who shall first volunteer his service- -some one individual must first begin:

"Dimidium facti, qui benè cæpit, habet." To Mr. Rolfe, I am sensible, that I should make an apology for having thus brought forward his name in your widely-circulated Miscellany, without having previously asked his permission for the liberty which I have taken. Upon his good temper, and the liberality of his mind, I rely for indulgence. Yours, &c. WM. CHAS. DYER.

THOMAS A KEMPIS.

"Thus in the Christian religion, Charity is called the bond of perfection; because it comprehends and fastens all virtues together. Whenever we wholly dedicate ourselves to this end, whatever virtue it commends, we shall be invested with it, and pre-disposed with a kind of ability and propension to pursue and express the same. No end is so efficacious to rectify our habits: it causes the mind forthwith to transform and mould itself into all virtues at once. And this is analogous to the workmanship of Nature: a carver cuts the parts successively; but Nature, in producing a flower or living creature, engenders and brings forth all the rudiments at once."-LORD BACON'S Advancement of Learning, Book VII.

IT is curious that your Correspond. ent W. should imagine I alluded to Alban Butler as a living author; when all his Readers must know, that he has been dead more than 40 years. The Note which W. speaks of, would be a very useful communication, as it is not in every edition of A. Butler's Works; certainly not in the one I have access to. And it is desirable to see any remark of that well-informed and excellent man.

2. As to the charge of suppositious evidence, imputed to the disputants in France and Germany on this much agitated question, my author is no less a person than Mabillon. [See Euvres Posthumes de Jean Mabillon Benedictin de la Congregation de St.

Maurs.] I have only to refer your
Correspondent to him.

3. Surely W., on further consideration, will allow that we express ourselves more naturally, clearly, and forcibly, when we speak or write in the language in which we think. In those private and earnest communications of the heart with its Maker, of which the "Imitatio" affords so many charming and eloquent examples, is it natural, I ask, that these should, at their first utterance, be in one's own, or in a foreign idiom?

4. The result of W.'s communication is, that the "Imitatio" is not the production of either Thomas-à-Kempis or Gerson. Now, is not this precisely the very thing I was contending for? That, even the most able and learned Writer, perhaps, of the present day (who has professed an intention of publishing the Life and Writings of Thomas-à-Kempis, and to discuss the question)-even he,will hardly be able to bring this work home to either of these persons.

5. This question, one of criticism merely, and which may in truth be called a conjecture about a conjecture, curious as it may be, is infinitely less important than this other: "What is the nature, or scope and intent of the Imitatio?" This last is a subject of high and universal concern; touching, besides, if I am not mistaken, a Church question of some delicacy at present. In this, I acknowledge, I must look up to a guide. There are persons whose calling it is, persons, I am free to say, being myself but a Layman (of the Church of England) more learned in these matters; and I add (it would

be ill for the world were it otherwise) much wiser, and better, than I can pretend to be. What I am going to say, therefore, will, I trust, meet with every indulgence-I am sure I mean it well. I am only going to state a difficulty as it strikes me, in order to have it removed. I think, then, (remember I am speaking under correction) that the "Imitatio" presents to us but a very imperfect resemblance of our Saviour. It presents in general rather a contrast, reflecting the human heart in a state of indisposition -a very different picture! It scarcely touches the most remarkable feature of our Saviour's character-that he was in a peculiar manner chearful, popular, and social. With the divinest

com

complacency he was used to accost all ranks of people of every nation, sex, and age,--even little children: he entered into all companies of men, whether composed of many or of few-he was a guest at their marriages and festivals, without interposing any unseasonable austerity: he frequented the public fountains-according to the custom of the East; all the market-places-even the profaned temple. His friendship for one of the Disciples whom he esteemed more than any other and his most affecting recommendation to that friend of his desolate and disconsolate mother, at a time when one should have thought his whole attention would have been absorbed by the agonies of death, shew that he was awake to all the dearest and most tender considerations of social duty. During this commerce with the world, such was the superuatural temper of his mind, that he not only remained unspotted and blameless to the end, but he kept up an inexhaustible flow of affection and charity to all mankind, not excepting his very enemies and executioners. Now those who try (and there are many in every age and country who have Sir Thomas More is one illustrious instance) who try, even at a great distance, and with such constancy as human frailty is capable of, to follow his manner in all or any one of these instances, may justly be considered as being, so far, his imitators." Whereas, in the scheme to which the title of "Imitatio Christi" is prefixed, the mind is treated too much like a Patient, as being in an extraordinary state of infirmity, requiring almost perpetual seclusion, the strictest regimen, every relish gone for the innocent business and relaxations of life. All this may be very well, and even necessary, in certain cases, tempers of mind, times of life, state of the world, &c. And though, perhaps, if the matter were "res integra," the conventual life, in certainpersons, wouldnot altogether be disapproved of, at least in so unlimited and unqualified a manner as it has been with us; yet this was by no means the rule of life laid down and exemplified by our Saviour and the Apostles. If it be said that the perfection of our Saviour, his privileged character, his high and extraordinary mission, together with the mode he was pleased to employ in executing

it, required such a popular and affable life and conversation, and that it would be presumption to make his case one of ours; I answer: first, whatever the original is that we profess to imitate, such or like it should be the copy. Secondly, that the "Imitatio" is accordingly not a copy, but quite a different thing.

6. If the difficulty of following such patterns, in spite of so many bright examples as might be shewn, be still insisted on, is there less difficulty, I ask, in that of the "Imitatio?" But the greater part of mankind ought to be presumed of a commonly-sound and healthy state of mind; alive, active, and strong, to all social duties. The discharging these well, in spite of the various discouragements and temptations to the contrary, is the great trial in this life, and seems to be the principal business for which we are sent here. This being supposed, mankind then are sufficiently strong to bear having the Gospel opened at once to their eyes, and there to behold the original itself, without any such artificial medium as the "Imitatio." The "Imitatio" seems to be a circuitous and argumentative way of giving an idea of perfection. Its motto perhaps might be, "Behold thy self here; then conceive the exact reverse, and you have the picture of our Saviour." Such a method may be a good preparative a good course of discipline

the means of cure in particular cases, of sovereign virtue to every one, even to the best, at certain times, and to some few individuals at all times. But, as different as sickness is from health, is the "Imitatio" from the Gospel. I admit, that if a man is ill, he must be cured first, before he can set about his duties. la proposing this too for a rule of life, we forget. the times when this work was most probably written; or at least the times that the original conceiver of it evidently had in his view:-a dark ageuo regular communication, police, or government. nations or hordes of banditti deluging Europe and Asia-the voice of Religion could not be heard amidst the din of arms, the continual shaking and falling down of Empires. In this extremity, the Ministers of Religion took refuge in caverns in hitherto uninhabited islands-on the tops of mountains, surrounded on every side by wide

deserts

deserts-there, in the deepest solitudes, they preserved the lamp of Revelation, to hand it down to future times. How changed is the scene at present! Christianity has long since been ushered home out of its retirement: its temples and altars are spread over all parts of the world, from the remotest corners to the bosom of the most populous cities: the Book of Life is laid open to all eyes, that mankind may see the pattern they are copy after. But what crowns the success still more, almost every man may, if he chooses, have just reason, in some one or other of his daily actions, to congratulate himself on his resemblance to it.

7. Instead of considering this little book as the imitation of our Saviour, let us consider it in its real and genuine character. The experimental analysis of one's own heart by the help of so able a manual as the "Imitatio," is

most interesting walk of science. In this age it leads us into a new field, and opeus new prospects. There are men who, if they would study well this little book, would, before long, find themselves possessed of a talent and genius unsuspected before; and along with these (if it be any object to them) the road opened to reputation, honours, and even fortune. It possesses a secret of inestimable value. I heartily concur with your Correspondent W., that none but those who are worthy of scorn themselves would treat with scorn the venerable Fathers of the Church, or the lives and institutions of various Founders of Convents, together with some of their chosen followers; or, indeed, the wisdom and virtue, in any form, of any age or nation. The knowledge of this part of our nature would be worthy the regard of any real Philosopher or Statesman. And though devotion, carried up to the most consummate art, refined and exalted by science, must ever, from the nature of things, be confined to the happy few who are endowed with extraordinary gifts of feeling, understanding, and fortune; yet, in its various subordinate degrees, it is not the less suitable to all descriptions and classes of people throughout the world. For this is ever to be kept in view, that devotion, whether in the highest or lowest, should be inseparable from the practical duties and relations of

social life. Or, as Lord Bacon very loftily expresses it, "Let contemplation and action be nearly and straitly conjoined and this union might be resembled to the conjunction of the two great planets; when Saturn, who presides over rest and contemplation, conspires with Jupiter, the lord of civil society and action."

8. As your Correspondent W. has professed an intention of sending to you his thoughts upon the" Imitatio," I take the opportunity, in this place, of stating more accurately one of the topicks I used in my former communication. Allow me then to say, that the Imitatio strikes me rather as a work of art than of science. Though it may be in relation to the faculty of the conscience what logic is to the understanding, it is in truth more rational than any of the nume rous systems of logic we are acquainted with. These begin at once by attempting to scale the heights of science, treating their hearers like grown men, and absurdly overlooking the circumstances of inexperience and want of years, as well as that the mind any more than the body has not wings. This is the reason that so few ever arrive at the end in view: whereas the "Imitatio" is a practical work so far as it goes a course of regimen and of exercises drawn from facts and experiments of the greatest curiosity, and of the most intimate and certain evidence that can be offered to the human mind.

9. It should also be noticed that in the "Imitatio," the idea of "self" is uniformly taken in the popular, but, as I suspect, mistaken sense; implying a wilful selfishness ever struggling against our real good, or the order of Providence. But Revelation shews us what is our true and permanent interest, and this is the only proper and ultimate self. This, too, is the identity that Locke enquires after in vain. Nor is this at all surprising; for he chose to enquire after it where it is not to be found, viz. in Materialism.

Upon the whole, the scheme of the "Imitatio" can never be sufficiently admired, taking it as a plan designed for a select community, in the nature of a Magdalen, Asylum, or Religious Hospital: it has not that cheering and diffusive warmth of Christianity that mankind in their ordinary state

of