tinuance on the throne. But more than all, Napoleon now appeared as a suitor for peace, while the allies proposed to put him under the ban of nations, and to wage interminable war against him as an enemy of the human race. If England was again to engage in the conflict, the war on her part was to be unquestionably an aggressive one. Entirely unprovoked, and rejecting an humble offer of peace, England was to invade France for the sole purpose of dethroning one who had just been raised to the throne with unparalleled unanimity by his own subjects.

If Mr. Horner had disliked Napoleon less, these considerations might have had less weight with him. They would not have appeared so formidable, moreover, if his own intereststhe good-will of his friends, his popularity with all parties, and even the chance of retaining his seat in Parliamenthad not plainly required him to disregard them. But suspecting that his judgment might be biassed by these two reasons, he anxiously pondered over the arguments against renewing the war till they appeared irresistible; and then, nobly disregarding the astonishment and reproaches of those who knew him best, the suspicions of the still larger number of persons who always impute ill motives to those who differ from them in opinion, and the opposition of his own party, he formed one of the very small minority who voted against the declaration of hostilities. Immediately after the division, he wrote to the Marquis of Buckingham, to whom he owed his seat in the House, and offered to resign it, as he was no longer able to reconcile his sense of duty to the public with the support of that line of public policy which the Marquis had adopted. And this was not merely a formal offer, made with a good hope that it would not be accepted; for though his patron handsomely declined to take immediate advantage of it, he said very plainly in his reply, that if the difference of opinion between them, which had as yet been manifested only upon one topic and in one vote, should lead "to a continued difference in our public line of conduct," he would then accept Mr. Horner's honorable proposal. There still remained the difficult task of satisfying his father, his scrupulous philosophic friend, Lord Webb Seymour, and even his old asso

ciates, Murray and Jeffrey, not merely that his vote was founded on sincere conviction, for that they never doubted, —but that it did not imply any dereliction of principles for merly avowed, or any change of opinion respecting the charter and policy of Napoleon. To Murray he wrote:

"If we are to open a new Iliad of war against the military power of France, it is of the last importance that we should so commence it, as to stamp upon it, in the opinion of the people of the Continent, its true character of a war of defence merely against aggrandizement. By going to war now, we go to war for the Bourbons, to force that feeble, worn-out race upon the French; we go to war too upon a still more hopeless, and in my sentiments unjustifiable principle, that of proscribing an individual, and, through him, the nation which has adopted him, as incapable of peace or truce. It is obvious, that, proceeding in that manner, we do what we can to inspire into the French soldiery all the fire of enthusiasm, every feeling of pride for their national independence, and the utmost devotion for their great chief. The argument used on the other side is, that in prudence it must be assumed that he will act over again his old part as soon as he has collected sufficient means, and that the interval should not be let slip of overbearing him, while he is unprepared, with the whole combined numbers of the allies.

. . . Even if these things could be taken for granted, I question if it would not still be but a short-sighted prudence, to reject the opportunity which his professions of peace and moderation might afford of confirming in the public mind of Europe, an impression of the justice of our cause in that war, which, if it be renewed, will be one of no short duration, and must, in the course of it, involve in all the vicissitudes of fortune the best parts of the world. For England, I own, I cannot see, if we are to have another period of war, that ultimate success abroad, if to be hoped, would compensate our sure and irreparable losses at home; the inevitable insolvency of the Exchequer must, in one disguised shape or other, bring on a dreadful convulsion of property, with the ruin of all those families, whom the Courier (resuming the ancient Jacobinical phrase of its editor when he was the hireling of violence of another sort) stigmatizes as the drones of society, the annuitants, those who live on the savings of former industry; and in addition to this calamity, we shall witness the acceleration of that change, which is already begun, of our old civil system of freedom and law, for a military government. Such are my present melancholy dreams; sleeping or waking, they are about my bed, and about my path, speaking most literally; for since this devil incarnate rose again from the dead, I have known no comfortable day."- Vol. II. pp. 246–248.

The battle of Waterloo relieved Mr. Horner from one perplexity only to throw him into another. The war was over, but Napoleon gave himself up to the English, declaring that he had terminated his political career, and that he came, like Themistocles, to seat himself at the hearth of the British people, and to claim the protection of its laws; and Mr. Horner could not see, under these circumstances, how it was either just or magnanimous to send "this devil incarnate" as a prisoner for life to St. Helena. Nearly all England, it is true, ratified this conduct of its government by acclamation; and the unanimity of opinion did not allow the subject to come up for debate, or even for a division, in Parliament, so that Mr. Horner had no opportunity to express his dissent. But he communicated his scruples to his friends, among others to Mr. Hallam, and was good-naturedly scolded by him for being so wrong-headed.

The termination of Mr. Horner's own career was at hand. As early as June, 1816, we find him writing to his father that he was "a little plagued with a cough, in which there is nothing at all material, except the circumstance of its continuing so long, which, I think, is owing to the cold weather." The physicians thought otherwise; in a few weeks, they ordered him to give up public speaking, to suspend all professional engagements, and to pass the ensuing winter in a warmer climate. Then appeared the strength of the attachment which bound his friends to him. Inquiries and expressions of sympathy came from all quarters; and as he was especially reluctant to leave England, Lord and Lady Holland invited him to take a suit of rooms at their house, where he might live all the winter within doors, and be tended by her Ladyship as carefully as by a mother. But this course was not held by the physicians to be expedient, and Mr. Horner went to Italy to die. He expired at Pisa, on the 8th of February, 1817, and was buried in the Protestant cemetery at Leghorn.

We ought not to close without expressing our thanks to the American publishers, for the liberality and good taste which they have evinced in this very handsome reprint of an excellent work. It is decidedly superior to the English edition, not only on account of the valuable additional matter

which it contains, but in its mechanical style and execution. Hitherto, the superiority of an English to an American book, in point of paper and typography, has been taken for granted; but the recent publications of the firm to which we are indebted for the Memoirs of Horner go far towards justifying a reversal of this opinion.

ART. VIII. Collections of the Protestant Episcopal Historical Society. Volume II. The Frontier Missionary: a Memoir of the Life of the REV. JACOB BAILEY, A.M., Missionary at Pownalborough, Maine; Cornwallis and Annapolis, N. S.; with Illustrations, Notes, and an Appendix. BY WILLIAM S. BARTLET, A.M., Rector of St. Luke's Church, Chelsea, Mass., and a Corresponding Member of the Maine Historical Society. With a Preface by RIGHT REV. GEORGE BURGESS, D.D., Bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of Maine. Boston: Ide & Dutton. 1853. 8vo. pp. 365.

THE man who puts pen to paper, and spares that paper from the flames, is at the mercy of posterity. Litera scripta Be it a recipe, or an orderly's book; an undigested mass of memoranda, or a treatise completed for the press; files of letters never seen except by two pairs of tender eyes, or heaps of sermons familiar to the ears of more congregations than one; juvenile poetry, or autobiography laid by and forgotten; secret, religious diaries, or treasonable correspondence; the doubtful books of Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, the Greek prayers of Bishop Andrews, the Latin ones of Dr. Johnson, the love-letters of Doddridge, the journal in cipher of Pepys, the unfinished Tales of Crabbe, or the corrected and recorrected originals of the polished verse of Pope,—all must come forth before a gazing world, if no careful executor or hasty housewife has removed them out of the way of that search which, sooner or later, will be attempted. The antiquarian temperament is exceedingly common; and the mere accident of pres

ervation creates a real value. Obscure persons become important when they can tell us, under their own hand, what no living man has seen, and give us back, just as it was, the picture of an age which has left, or has not left, a history; picture, precious if it adds to the history that exists, most precious if it restores a history that had else been lost!

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The "Frontier Missionary" of the book before us was one of those who write much which a deliberate judgment might very well sentence to the flames, but who preserve it, such as it is, from the same fondness which led them to write at all. The result in this instance appears to have been a chaos of papers, out of which the biographer, with evident industry, accuracy, and discretion, has prepared a volume which the Historical Society of the Episcopal Church did well in incorporating with its Collections, and which merits its own peculiar place amongst the books that illustrate the annals, manners, and character of New England.

In the Harvard class of 1755, a bashful young man, twentyfive years old, named Jacob Bailey, of Rowley, received his diploma, along with John Adams, John Wentworth, Tristram Dalton, President Locke, and several other youths who attained a subsequent eminence. Bailey, though of course one of the oldest of the class, yet, from his humble origin, was placed at the foot of the Catalogue, in accordance with the academic heraldry of our fathers. His story may be briefly told. The son of a farmer in narrow circumstances, he had attracted by his facility of composition the notice of the minister of the parish, who assisted him, and obtained for him the assistance of wealthier men, in working out his education. By schoolkeeping, he sustained himself through a period of preparation for the Congregationalist ministry, and was duly licensed; but in 1760 went to England for Episcopal ordination, and returned, as a missionary of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, to the settlers at Pownalborough on the Kennebec. There the Revolution found him, after fifteen years of labor amongst a people generally poor and not seldom rough, with his humble church and parsonage, his admirable garden, and his ever fertile writing-table. A Loyalist in principle and in heart, and dependent on a stipend from England, he rather