CHARACTER OF THE REV. THOMAS ROBINSON, A.M. hat kind which attracts most admiration at a distance. It was so genuine and solid, that it grew in estimation the more closely it was inspected. It is possible some men have extended their influence to a wider circle, and moved in a more extended sphere. But where influence is diffused beyond a certain limit, it becomes attenuated in proportion to its diffusion; it operates with an energy less intense. Mr. Robinson completely filled as large a sphere of personal agency as it is perhaps possible for an individual to fill. He left no part of it unoccupied, no interstices unfilled, and spread himself over it with an energy in which there was nothing irregular, nothing defective, nothing redundant. "Our deceased friend was eminently distinguished by a steady uniformity of conduct. While he appeared to multiply himself by the extent and variety of his exertions, the principles upon which they were conducted, the objects they were destined to promote, were invariably the same. He was not active at intervals, and at other times torpid and inert; he did not appear the public man at one time, and at another absorbed in selfish pursuits: his efforts to do good in season and out of season were constant and uninterrupted, and his course knew no other variety than that of the shining light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day.' His goodness, founded on principle, and corroborated by habit, operated with the steadiness of a law of nature, the beneficial results of which can never be sufficiently appreciated till they are suspended. They who contemplated Mr. Robinson at the distance of forty years, viewed him with the same emotions which he excited at a more advanced age, moderated, however, and chastened, by the apprehension, that it was possible some unexpected temptation might occur, to divert him from his career: we have seen it completed, we have witnessed his perseverance and his conquest, and have seen his virtues and his fame placed under the safeguard and seal of death and immortality. "Though he had reached that period of life which constitutes old age, it was a cruda viridisque senectus. His age had impaired little or nothing of his vigour: its chief effect was that of imparting additional dignity to his countenance, and weight to his character. He fell like a noble tree, after two or three strokes, with all his sap and verdure, with extended boughs and rich foliage, while thousands were reposing under his shadow and partaking of his fruits. Seldom has death gained a richer spoil than 2D. SERIES.-No. 8. VOL, I. 353 in the extinction of the earthly existence of this admirable man. "Having expatiated so largely on the eminent benefits accruing to mankind from the services of our departed friend, let me request your attention for a few moments longer, while I endeavour to portray more distinctly a few of the leading features of his character. The predominant property of his mind, intellectually considered, appeared to me to be, a strong and masculine understanding, copious in its resources, versatile in its operations, and eminently prompt in its decisions. He saw with a rapid glance the different bearings of a subject, and the proper measures to be adopted in the most intricate concerns. He possessed good sense in an exquisite degree, rarely or never misled by illusions of imagination, either in himself or others. To this was united a warmth and vivacity of temperament, which made business his delight, action his element, accompanied with a resolution in the pursuit not to be relaxed by fatigue, nor damped by disarrangements, nor retarded by difficulties. To resolve and to execute, or at least vigorously to attempt execution, were with him the same thing. "He joined, in an eminent degree, the fortiter in re with the suaviter in modo; none more inflexible in his purposes, none more conciliating in his manners. Without losing a particle of his dignity, without meanness, artifice, or flattery, he knew how to adapt himself to all sorts of society; and was equally acceptable in the character of the saint, the sage, and the cheerful engaging companion. By his amenity of manners, and benignity of mind, he smoothed the asperities of contradiction, and left to the machine of public business the least possible friction. "It is almost unnecessary to state, that he laid the foundation of public confidence in his integrity, which was such, that it was not only never sacrificed, but, as far as my information extends, never suspected. They who might differ from him the most on some subjects of a religious or political nature, never called in question the honesty of his intentions. To this he joined, as a necessary incitement of success in active life, an uncommon share of prudence; by which I mean, not that timid policy which creeps along the shore, without venturing to commit itself to the ocean; which shuns danger, without aspiring to conquest; his prudence was of a more generous and enlarged sort; the result was not so much of calculation at the moment, as of well-regulated passions and established principles. He loved mankind too well to betray, or to speak evil of any. Vanity never made him 152.-VOL. XIII. 2 Y loquacious, nor pride capricious. Having purified his mind, under the influence of religion, from vanity, pride, and resentment, the chief temptations to imprudence were precluded. His ardent mind left him no leisure for trifling; and the great object he so steadily pursued, precluded the least disposition to mingle with the details of scandal, or the privacies of domestic life." WEST INDIAN SLAVERY. SIR,-Permit me, in your pages, to answer the following letter: "To Mr. Wm. Coldwell.-Sir: On look❝ing over your article, headed, Europe in "the Winter of 1830-1,' inserted in the Imperial Magazine for February last, I read, page 83, Gladly would the mind dwell upon the future, in glorious anticipations. "It would paint France, aroused from the apathy of ages, following, yea, united with, "the efforts of Great Britain and her free"born transatlantic sons, in the great work "of civilizing and christianizing the whole "world.'-Being at a loss to make out the To a civil inquiry, a civil answer is due; and although I do not see any difficulty in the passage quoted above, or in any portion of its phraseology, yet, as an explanation is required, it shall be given. Great Britain and her free-born transatlantic sons are held up as proper leaders, or associates, for the sons of France, in the civilization and christianization of the world. The assertion implies, that Great Britain has within her European dominions, and also in her domains on the western shores of the Atlantic ocean, sons who are free-born, civilized christians. Because a slave, a savage, a pagan, or an infidel, cannot, in the nature of things, be a fit associate for a free, civilized christian, in an attempt to civilize and christianize the world, much less to become the leader of such an enterprise. That Britain possesses free-born men, civilized men and christians, who can doubt? That she has free-born transatlantic sons, who can dispute? In North America, as well as in South America, and in the islands which lie between these continents, the colonies of Britain contain thousands; to say nothing of the United States, where millions of her freeborn sons have formed a republic, fraught with men whose zeal and activity qualify them for able leaders, as well as associates, in this great work. But why call these free-born? for that is the peculiarity in question. It is a peculi. arity, I confess; and gladly enough would I stand convicted of absurdity in using it, were it a distinction without a difference. Yet, is there not a cause? Are all Great Britain's transatlantic sons free-born? Would to God they were! But in noting leaders and associates meet for the sons of France, are all the transatlantic sons of Britain fit subjects for these dignified stations? Answer, O ye merchants of the seas; speak, O ye kings; ye who sway the oceans and the isles, give ye answer; for with you does the secret lie. Ye answer not; yet it comes! it comes! loud and deep are its groans! They have traversed the Atlantic, wide and wild as are its waves; like a hurricane have they dashed upon the land; and their echo from the cliffs of Albion is, Slave! Slave! reechoes the ocean, and tosses back the sound amidst the caverns, while these rebellow, Slave! A slave! a slave! Live there then to Britain, sons other than free-born? Yes; the secret will out, rank with blood; it raises up the ghosts of deeds long done; haunting the perpetrators and blabbing forth to all, Great Britain, free and lordly as is her ports, has transatlantic sons, from generation to generation, slave-born. A free-born son, a slave-born son, sons of the same nation; of the same nation, did I say? Yes, of the same man, and this man a free-born Britain. He has a wife, and his children by her are free-born, and continue freemen; he has also a slave, and he debauches this slave, and his children by her are slave-born, and continue slaves. Horrible to think upon-slaves to their own father! who can, and often does, like any of his chattels, or a head of his cattle, sell them to whomsoever he pleases, whenever he wills it. A detestable wretch, who calls himself a Britain, sells his own progeny! Where is the boasted freedom of Britain? Slumber they who execute her laws? Issuing from the womb, having done no act, having spoken no word, having thought no thought of good or evil, are the sons of the same parent free-born and slave-born, the one inheriting all the rights of the father, and the other reduced to a mere chattel? Are the birthright privileges which flesh is heir to, and which are its inherent and indubitable rights, dissevered by the gripe of avarice from the babe new-born, yea, from the firstborn son, ere he beholds the light? Where is the boasted freedom of Britain? I repeat WEST INDIAN SLAVERY. it-where?" The moment a slave rests his feet upon the shores of Britain, he is free!" The boasted freedom then of Britain is in Britain, and on few places else in her dominions. Upon other shores, men may be trepanned or dragged into slavery; and the horrible deed, once perpetrated, these continue slaves; and all who proceed from these, male and female, weakly or robust, are born slaves, and continue slaves from generation to generation. Hark! it is the voice of multitudes, that dwells upon the ear; they rush towards the ocean, and the clank of their chains is horrible; upon its utmost beach, their longing eyes, stretched athwart the billows, strain to catch the view, and the groans of their supplications, louder than the thundering surfs beneath them, dolorous cry, "Where are the shores of Britain? O waft us there, ye winds, bear us, ye foaming billows, place on these shores our feet-there, there we shall be free!" The sun sinks beneath the horizon; darkness, like a curtain, falls upon the ocean; the view is broken; it is no more; and despair, horrible in its groanings, seizes upon the multitudes anew; they clank their chains, clasp their hands in anguish, and their moanings pierce the skies. Is this unreal? Was there not recently such a movement? Let the sceptic land upon these islands of slavery and chains, and his scepticism will sink into a shadow, before the reality of a bondage undescribed by the ancients, and, until our day, unknown to man. In writing the term “free-born,” my ideas certainly attached thereto importance. It was a frenzied thought—a momentary madness of the brain which possessed me, while I thought of slavery-of men stolen by men, of men the slaves of men, of men held by force from freedom; and then I thought of the softer sex, of women stolen by men, of women the slaves of men, of women held by force from freedom; and the cracking of the horrid whip, and the slashing of the frightful lash, and the spurting forth of blood, and the quivering of the dissevered muscle, and the sobs of the lacerated female, harrowed up my soul. And then, and then my mind ran through the birthright of generations yet unborn; and I thought of infants, new-born infants, infants of a day, and behold these were slaves; and I heard the lash upon the youth, upon manhood, upon age; and said, surely here end thy torments, O oppressor! But, no; the idea returned in violence, and whelmed upon my soul the anguish of generations yet unborn-for I beheld the offspring of all these, and they were slaves! No breath of right came with the infant breath; no, futurity rushed before 355 me with its hosts of darkness, and its miseries were interminable. Forgive me. If I am beside myself, it is to God, it is for the cause of freedom. Born of pagan parents, the first ideas inculcated within these infant minds are heathen; as they increase in stature, and become observers, pagan rites are impressed upon them; and, ere they attain to manhood, they become partakers of the horrid mysteries of darkness, and actors in the filthy orgies of idolatry. Thus shut up in pagan darkness, they clank their chains amidst horrid dungeons, on all sides bound with deaths, while gospel light blazes around their prisons, and the messengers thereof strive, but strive in in vain, to throw these rays upon their gloomy souls. Here we have the acme of refinement in destruction. The sordid slaveholder, amidst his delusions, calculates upon rebellion if the slave is instructed, and therefore holds him in chains of darkness, and guards, with tyrannic vigilance, every avenue by which light could approach him. The muscles, yea, the very sinews of these most wretched of the wretched, are wasted by excess of labour, beneath the horrid lash, applied unsparingly to enforce undue exertion. In the very bloom of life, the scars of the white tyrant bloat out upon the skin, disfigure the countenance, and maim the trunk; in mature age, when the robust and hardy would, in a state of freedom, be the characteristics of male and female, decrepitude and premature old age stare forth on the observer, and, ere half his days are accomplished, he sinks into non-existence. Into non-existence, did I say? Happy would it be for the slave, were this the case; but the refinement of ruin, on the part of his oppressor, while it destroys the body, does all that mortal man can achieve to ruin the immortal soul. This it shuts up in heathen darkness, and bars every avenue to the entrance of christian light and life, forcing the soul, as far as human prowess can force, to live and die without God, without hope, without the grace of life, and to plunge into endless ruin. Who can weigh in the scale of equity this mass of wrong doing-the mischief done, and the mischief predicated thereby? Over the tongue of the European, the sweet morsel is incessantly rolled; his coffee, his tea, his preparations of fruit, his delicious sauces, his conserves, his confectionaries, &c. fraught with sugar duly refined, deal to him delights daily. But this is the blood of the oppressed, wrung from his veins by the scourging of the oppressor; and blood cries for blood-its voice ascends to heaven; God hath heard it, and will avenge the cause of the oppressed. Judgment, although hitherto it has slumbered, is even now at the door: for the judgments of the Lord are on the earth already kingdoms shake, thrones totter, society is convulsed to its very centre around us, and shall the man-stealer or the vile consumer of his fellow-men, escape? Impossible! The sword, or the pestilence which walketh in darkness, or both, in awful visitation must descend. "Alas! who shall live when God doeth this?" To enumerate the individual instances of cruelty and oppression which have already occurred in the nefarious traffic and oppressive bondage of the West Indian Slavery, would require volumes. Indeed, volumes, already filled to surfeiting, are before the public, and the very reading of only extracts from these harrows up the soul; to read the whole, would be a task upon which few ought to venture; for the disgusting and disgraceful matters with which they necessarily abound, are too much for hundreds, whose nerves are delicate and ought not to be thus unstrung. Even in the bosoms of pious and devout men, a holy indignation at the atrocity of those oppressors takes precedence of every other feeling; and thousands of honourable Britons feel so greatly ashamed of the actors in slavery, that they hold themselves disgraced by their national affinity. During the last ten years, it is calculated that more than forty-five thousand human beings have been immolated upon the bloody altar of this modern Moloch, and the sacrifices daily made add incessantly to the number of victims. To these widewasting murders, every man who does not lift up his voice against the murderers, becomes a party; thus national crimes bring down national judgments, and, amidst these, who can count upon his individual escape? If means are within our reach, whereby we may counteract these gross enormities, it becomes every Briton to stand forth boldly, and use these means to the utmost of his ablility, with the greatest promptitude; and as unity is strength, to unite himself with as many as are like-minded, that they may present a formidable front to the adversary, and carry, by unanimous efforts, the complete emancipation of every slave in the colonies of Britain. A system of intolerance and tyranny, unparalleled in history, and at war with every principle of right, of reason, and of religion, pervades the whole machine of slavery. It commences with robbery, man-stealing, and cruelty, and these enter into the details of this horrible durance, even to the minutest points, from the moment of the first theft, until death releases the captive from his chains; and happy will it be for the slave, if the consequences of this horrid system do not follow him into eternity. Stolen in the bloom of life, he is torn from the companions of his youth, from every thing near and dear to him on earth, loaded with chains, marched down to the coast, embarked on board a slave-ship, so closely stowed with human beings, that multitudes perish during the voyage; if he survives the passage, he is landed in the West Indies, exposed for sale like a beast, inspected, handled and exercised before the buyers, life an ox or a horse; he is purchased, urged by a slave-driver with a whip, to the field of labour; and there no particle of the man is suffered to escape the horrid machinery of slavery. Muscles, sinews, blood, bones, yea spirit, body and soul, all enchained in bondage, are wasted at the pleasure of a master, whose tender mercies are cruel. He beholds his children, but slavery is there also; and the intolerable anguish of despair seizes upon his soul, for these to the latest generation are slaves! O Lord! can these be the acts of men? The sum of the whole matter is, the existence of slavery within the British dominions is a national disgrace; the continuance of slavery is a national crime, and will bring upon Great Britain national judgments: it is therefore the duty of every Briton to exert his utmost powers, in order to remove this crying evil, and thereby avert these judgments. Applications to the legislative bodies of this realm, in a firm, yet respectful tone, ought instantly and universally to be resorted to, and persevered in unremitingly, until this is accomplished. WM. COLDWell. THE GENUINE PHILOSOPHER. "With aspect mild, and elevated eye, SOME few mouldering fragments, partly hid by wild briars and thorns, and partly covered with upturned mounds from the plough, yet remained, which, two centuries before, were parts of the ancestral mansion of the celebrated but unfortunate Earl of Derby, who suffered the penalty of death in 1651, for pro THE GENUINE PHILOSOPHER. claiming Charles II. Over these remains of worldly splendour, the youthful hero of my tale was in the habit of wandering, before he entered his teens, and, as he surveyed the ruins which man and time had made, a silent tear would ever and anon steal down his rosy cheek, while he thought of those from whom in a long line he had descended, and felt the import of Johnson's touching lines "Wealth heaped on wealth,nor truth nor safety buys; The dangers gather as the treasures rise. The tears, however, thus early shed by Alphonso, were not those of regret, but of sympathy. Already his mind had been better instructed; a principle of a loftier nature than the honours of a titled ancestry could impart, had been impressed there. 357 in that celebrated seminary, he was elected to Christ Church College, Oxford, and, in the twenty-first year of his age, took the degree of M.A. On returning one evening from a lonely stroll by the side of the meandering Isis, conversing with men of other days through their works, which time had spared, his servant delivered to him a letter, bearing his address, on one corner of which “speed” stood conspicuous. He hastily tore it open, and soon learned, that his instant return home was indispensable. His father had been suddenly seized with fever, and his life was then despaired of. Filial affection, above every other consideration, influenced him, and, throwing himself into a chaise, he was driven off rapidly, and in a few hours was set down at the door of his parental residence. With breathless anxiety, he inquired of the servant who opened the door to him, concerning his father. The extent of his danger, and the degree of affection in which he was held by his servants, were powerfully evidenced by a silent but significant shake of the head, while a flood of tears gushed from the eyes of the old domestic, to the total prevention of utter ance. His father, at the period of his birth, enjoyed a princely fortune, and resided in a mansion, such as a less unfortunate king than the exiled Charles might have been proud to possess. Alphonso was the only surviving child of his parents: several children Alphonso required no more information. had preceded him, but when the fair buds He ascended the stairs as though his ethereal of nature were just breathing forth into at- part had been so strengthened as to supertractive flowers, they drooped, as if a worm sede the necessity of the employment of his lay concealed in the core of their being, material powers. He entered an anteand died away. That he should therefore chamber near that in which his parent lay, engage the whole attention of his parents, and was instantly announced. As he ennaturally affectionate, is not surprising; and tered the chamber of death, his eye fell on they beheld in the boy a thousand charms, the withered countenance of his beloved which others might not immediately have father; the struggle was nearly over-his discovered. His face indeed was not hand- eye brightened for a moment as Alphonso some, but it was open as the morning. It leaned over the bed. The good old man bore the impress of masculine energy, rather blessed his son-his enervated grasp let go than the soft attractive glow or infant loveli- the hand which he had taken a gentle sigh ness. He was the last, too, of a long, an only escaped him, and he was not-for God honourable line, and the heir to extensive took him. possessions. In him the hopes, therefore, and the honours of his father's house were deposited. What improvement he might have made of his superior advantages, during his early years, I am not able to declare. All I know is, that if the best masters that could be furnished, and the utmost care and attention which attendants could yield, availed any thing, he must have profited greatly. As soon, however, as his preparatory studies were completed, he was sent to Westminster school; here, the talents with which nature had endowed him, shone forth with attract ive lustre, while his assiduity gained for him honourable distinction among the scholars of his day. After a residence of a few years Another moment elapsed, and the arms of his widowed mother were thrown half franticly around his neck. His manly frame supported her, while, with subdued feelings, he whispered in soothing accents, My mother, let us not sorrow like those who have no hope. Remember who hath said, 'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.' He who lately was dear to us on earth, is now dear to us in heaven, 'for, to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.'" This was not the language of heartless insensibility, or apathetic indifference. Oh no! he felt the bereavement as a man, but he bowed as a Christian to His decree, who "doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, and among |