compassion on your son, who cannot survive your loss; listen to the dictates of nature; let not your father plead in vain,-if you perish, we must all mourn in disgrace. The cup of misery was now full to overflowing; deeply affected, she could only entreat her father to acquiesce in the divine disposal, since she could neither bring herself to commit impiety, by sacrificing to false gods, nor to execrate that holy name in which alone she hoped for salvation. Her slave, who chanced to be pregnant, was delivered whilst in prison; the jailor hearing her cries, asked, "do you complain of this,-what will you do when you are exposed to the beasts." She answered with true Christian sagacity, "it is I that suffer now, but then there will be another with me, because I shall suffer for his sake." On the day of trial, joy, rather than fear, was in their looks. Their composed manners, and self-possession astonished the beholders. Some idolatrous habits being offered to them, " we sacrifice our lives," said they, "to avoid this, and thus have we bargained words "compel them to come in,” as authorising, or rather commanding persecution.-a sense the passage was never intended to have, the compelling there spoken of, being an act of kindness, not of rigour. "The weapons of our warfare," says the Apostle of the Gentiles, "are not carnal,'-the cause of Christ needs not to be supported by secular power by swords and spears-by racks and faggots. False notions of religious duty have perhaps caused more bloodshed and misery in the world than any other cause. Tantom falsa fides "potuit suadere malorum.' I cannot better conclude, than by quoting the admirable sentiments of one of the earliest Fathers on the subject." It ought," says he, "to be left to the free choice of men, to embrace that religion which seems to them most agreeable to the truth. No one is injured or benefited by another man's religion, and it is an act of irreligion to force religion which ought to be adopted spontaneously, not by compulsion." AN ACROSTIC. Redemption's truths were still thy darling theme Exalting Him who suffer'd to redeem; Rais'd but in praises to the King of kings! A ttun'd that pions voice to holy things, with you." The Tribune upon this, Rever'd, belov'd in life-in death deplor'd, ' desisted from his demand. E steem'd by all, but by thy flock ador'd; Being sentenced to be torn to pieces by wild Vers'd in divinity and wisdom's lore, beasts, after having been scourged, E nrich'd with learning from its choicest store; they were put into the nets, and exposed to their rage. The beauty of the lady, and the weak state of the slave, excited compassion in some of the more humane spectators, who flung their loose garments on them to cover them. But the savage mob, more cruel than the beasts themselves, delighting to glut their eyes with blood and slaughter, insisted on their being brought into the midst of the amphitheatre, that they might have the pleasure of seeing them die-they were there soon dispatched by the gladiators, and expired, exhorting each other to continue firm in the faith. How thankful ought we to be, who live in an age and country in which we may profess our religion openly, "none daring to make us afraid." Happy would it have been for the Christian Church if the rulers had never imitated the example set them by Heathen Magistrates-understanding, or pretending to understand the Ab? many a pious sont will mourn thy death, London, 22nd February, 1828. LE MORT VIVANT. Lorsque l'ennui pénètre dans mon fort, Je sais vivant; bien vivant; trés vivant! Truro, Mrs. W. T. Chappel of a son MARRIAGES IN JANUARY. Madron C. Foote Esq. to Miss Anne Rowland Gluvias, Mr. Knight to Miss Richards IN FEBRUARY. St. Austle, Mr. R. Granvill to Miss Auna Gay St. Columb, Mrs. Lovering Grewidland, Mrs. M. Richards Mr. Honicombe Traro, Mr. J. Simpson aged 39 ན་ St. Neot Vicarage lady of the Revd. H Grylls Penzance, Mrs. Hitchings aged 80 of a son Liskeard, Mrs. J. Menhennick of twins the wife of Mr. W. Crabbe of a son Truro, Mrs. T. Barlow of a daughter Redruth, Mrs. J. Jane of a son BIRTHS IN FEBRUARY. Falmouth, Mrs. R. R. Broad of a daughter Trethellan, wife of Mr. J. Polkinghorn of a son Mrs. J. Symonds of a son Bodmin, Mrs. G. Geach of a son St. Ives, Lady of Revd. C. Aldrich of a son Truro, Mr. J. Simpson Junr. Penzance, Walter George, son of the Revd. R. Sherwell Port-Isaac, Capt. F. Richards aged 50 Trematon Castle, Mary Amy daughter of B. Tucker Esqr. St. John's, Hoskin aged 86 Carnanton, J. Williams Esqr, aged 86 West Looe, Capt. W. Skantlebury aged 61 Mr. James Hetherly aged 23 Infant son of Capt. Rouse Falmouth, Mr. W. H. Symous aged 34 Printed and Published by J. PHILP, Falmouth, and sold by most Booksellers in the County. The Cornish Magazine. No. 28.] "Profit and pleasure then to mix with art, Francis Horace. APRIL, 1828. ESSAYS ON SOCIAL ABUSES. No. 2. ON THE INFLUENCE OF OPINION. THERE is an honest ambition in the desire, we all feel, to be held in good estimation by those who know us. There is also a decency in that humble ness of mind, which engages us to defer in many important points to the collective wisdom of Society. These principles, indeed, offer an effective guarantee for the orderly conduct of those who cherish them; and far be it from me to entertain a wish that they should ever be weakened. From the observations which will now be made, I shall not be charged it is hoped, with any design to erect a false standard of independence, by which vicious men might be tempted to throw off that salutary restraint over their moral actions, which is exercised in the judgment of others. My remarks will seldom apply to cases where moral responsibility is concerned they relate chiefly to the numberless trifles, which though singly and abstractedly insignificant,-exercise no small controul over our comfort and happiness. On these points, I think it will be found on enquiry, that the public, strictly speaking, have no opinion at all; and what is usually regarded as such, is merely a phantom afloat in men's imaginations, which though fastened on the many-headed multitude is, or would be disavowed by every individual member of that multitude. VOL. III [Price 4d. The How many of the absurd fashions of dressing-thinking-speaking and other necessary performances first came into practice, is more than a philosopher can explain-but once established, they seem able to retain an universal sway, till they are driven from their strong holds, by some new folly. For one person who approves of them, a hundred will condemn, yet it is probable that the hundred and one are equally subjected to their influence, This abandonment of liberty is a sacrifice to public opinion-But where is this public opinion? It is a BUGBEAR as in most other instances. enemy most dreaded in the world is ridicule, and with great humility we take it for granted that it is the easiest thing on earth to make ourselves ridiculous-and therefore in all we do, with laudable prudence we ask ourselves what will the World think?-as if the world cared about us, or our actions. Perhaps, after all, we are but paying the price of our vanity. It is singular that this dread of being laughed at, which is one of the most powerful principles in the Social System, is also that which leads most men to adopt the measures, best calculated to make them ridiculous. As it arises from a false estimate of their own importance, so it involves them in a course of hypocrisy which it is the interest and delight of others to detect and expose. A bashful man entering a room where a mixed Society is assembled, fancies himself the object of universal attention, becomes more H false principle. If they could learn the truth, and know that a proper independence of the world's judgment, is the surest road to its respect, they would not forfeit their own esteem. By claiming a right to judge for ourselves, and establishing a character of consistency with principles that cannot be disapproved of-we shall command the respect of others, even when we act in opposition to received opinionsor join parties in religion or politics which are unfashionable. Besides these and many other examples where we suffer our conduct to be influenced by a mistaken view of general opinion on which the great mass of mankind judge falsely, and thereby censure or applaud without any just grounds for doing so. To point them out would be of little avail-but it would be well if individuals in such cases were aware that they lose more happiness than they gain by a cowardly submission to a tribunal whose authority is dependent on their acquiescence. and more embarrassed and commits numberless blunders, till he has really drawn on his folly the eyes of every one present-after a little while, perhaps, he feels more confirmed, and attempts to support his part in the circle, but conceiving that every word he utters, will be noted down and treasured up as evidence for or against him-he finds it impossible to join in easy conversation, and the only chance left him is the alternative of being thought a pedant or a fool. This is the type of what happens daily in the great world-for example, when a man is satisfied that the appearance of wealth or fashion will purchase the there are undoubtedly some points enviable distinction of being talked of and pointed at-- he will seek to obtain the character of possessing them, and like the daw in the fable, sees not that his borrowed plumes will rarely conceal the truth from the curious penetration of others. The most absurd and pernicious practice which, what ever might be its origin, has its present support in a supposed public feeling Men are is the practice of duelling. constantly coing into the field against each other to settle the most trifling difference by an appeal to blood--and that frequently without the slightest real wish to injure each other. the fashion to declaim against this preposterous custom cherished in defiance of all human and divine laws-and the blane is laid- to the World's tyranny of opinion. There was an appearance of reason in single combats while superstition converted them into courts of justice over which the Deity was thought to preside. In these days, no one will be found hardy enough to vindicate them, and if the sentiments of civilized mankind could be put to the vote, not one in a thousand would declare in their favor: and yet it is well known that the fear of ridicule is the true source of by far the greater number of duels. It is This fear is also the cause of great disquiet to many men of real worth, but weak understanding, who are thereby prevented from accomplishing their best intentions of reform, and frequently sacrifice the dictates of conscience to the stronger influence of a TO LOUISA. Oh! believe not, Louisa, that absent from thee Thus parted, tho' hope be a stranger to me, Yet it was not thy beauty that won thee my heart, And the softness that breath'd in thy sigh. Those hours which for ever have flown, When I deem'd that thy heart like thy lover's, was true, And fondly believ'd thee my own. 'Tis vanish'd-the flatt'ring illusion is o'er, 'Twas a dream too delightful to last, The soft syren hope shall enchant me no more, Then leave me to mourn o'er the past. on thy fortune resplendent, tho' mine be SPICILEGIA. No. 2. A TALE OF THE OLDEN TIME. Twм John Catty, who may be considered the Rob Roy of Wales, was driven to desperate courses by the harsh treatment he received from the English government. An intemperate expression of the Welch Chieftian, having been maliciously reported as of a treasonable nature, his estates were confiscated, and Roderich Aranza, a favorite courtier of Henry IV. invested with full powers to execute the attainder. The young Chieftain was then at a distance, but, no sooner heard of the confiscation of his estates, and that his sister had been made a captive by the enemy, than he hastily returned, collected his vassals, and beseiged Aranza in his castle of Cerig-cennan. Stung to the quick by the injuries he had received, and inflamed with hatred to the English, he pushed the assault with such vigour, that he made good his entrance with his followers, singled out Aranza, and in a personal encounter slew him, and hurled him from the battlements His sister was found starved to death in a dungeon-the castle was pillaged and dismantled, but its ruins still remain. Henry soon took vengeance for his favorite's death-the Welchman's lands were laid waste, his father and mother were executed, and he himself was forced to take refuge in the Wilds of Cardigan, where he remained concealed till the rising of the Percies showed him an opportunity of revenge, and he joined their forces with his followers. The Allies, desirous to explore the King's camp, the night before the decisive battle of Shrewsbury, Twm John Catty, undaunted at the prospect of danger undertook the perilous task. It was now deep midnight; the moon had set, and the last watch-fires were waning in the camp; amid the sleeping thousands that surrounded him, the British Monarch alone lay immersed in thought on his couch. The past, laden with guilt, rushed over his mind, until unable to compose himself to rest, he withdrew the curtains of his tent, and looked out on the night, The air was calm and pleasant, dark clouds scudded across the heaven, and 66 the waters of the lake, near which they were encamped, fell in rippling murmurs on the shore. The soul of the haughty King was melted even to womanly tenderness, and a bitter sigh escaped him as he recalled the memory of the young Welch Chieftain, whom his injuries had driven to despair, "and what if he should be here," he exclaimed, in the moment of phrenzied imagination, " to avenge the destruction of his clans?" He is here," said a deep-toued voice, and a dark figure stood beside him. "Harry of England," it exclaimed, "the hour of retribution is arrived; haste, betake thee to thy weapon; for by the God above us, either thou or I must fall "You would not murder me?" said the affrighted Monarch, as he recog nised the stern lineaments of the outlaw. "Murder you!" he replied: "No! though you have left me neither food nor shelter, friend nor kinsman, I scorn to murder an unarmed man.' The heightened tones of his voice attracted the attention of the sentinel, who was on duty without the tent. Apprehensive of danger, he immediately gave the alarm, and a file of soldiers rushed to the spot. The Welchman roused by the noise had but just time to retreat, the King gave notice of his escape, the sentinels immediately pursued him, but he was already far on his way to the Welch camp. Victory declaring for the King the next day, the outlawed Chieftain was again forced to retreat to the wilds of Cardigan, and for some time maintained his independence among the mountain fastnesses, and even felt himself so secure, that he turned his thoughts to marriage-the appointed wedding day was arrived, the green wood rung again with the joyous shouts of his followers, a Monk performed the sacred office, after which the assembly sat down to the bridal feast. All was mirth and merriment, and every countenance was lightened up with pleasure, save that of Twm John Catty; on his brow sat a settled gloom, and he passed the goblet by untasted. As the evening drew on he left his young bride, and accompanied by his minstrel Hoel, hastened to the outskirts of the wood, to see that each |