advantages likely to flow from the marriage of the Duc de Montpensier; and if they have anticipated a permanent increase of French influence in Spain, we firmly believe that the very opposite effect will be produced, and all that is actually passing in Spain, confirms our belief. The speeches in the French Chambers, and the publication of the official correspondence, have made the pretensions of France to control the external relations of Spain, if not to interfere with its internal condition, known. These pretensions have been ostentatiously proclaimed—they have been accepted as sound principles of policy by the leading statesmen of France; and no thinking Spaniard can refuse to ask himself the question-Is intimate alliance with France, and submission to her counsel, or rather to her dictation, in all foreign affairs, the necessary condition of the existence of Spain as a nation? Who can doubt the answer of those Spaniards, and the sons of those Spaniards, who defied Napoleon in the height of his power, and who rejected his brother?-will not the answer to the King of the French be, You have won our Infanta with her ' dowry, but we will keep our independence.' There are Py

renees, and there are Spanish hearts and arms to guard them. The marriage of the Infanta with a French prince, although more or less objectionable in principle, might have passed without much notice or serious opposition, if no pretensions to control the succession to the throne of Spain had been put forward by the French Government; but, as explained and maintained, it has very properly called forth remonstrances from the cabinet of Great Britain, and most undoubtedly ought not to be treated with indifference by the other cabinets of Europe.

The personal character, and the prudence of the present monarch of France, may be considered as sufficient securities that no war, having territorial aggrandisement for its object, will be undertaken while he is at the head of the government of that country; but no one is credulous enough to suppose, that the ambition for conquest is entirely extinct in the French nation. The Duc de Broglie, and all French statesmen who have given opinions on the subject, have said that France must be at ease on her Spanish frontier, before she engages with any prospect of success in war on the Rhine, or beyond the Alps. The Duc de Broglie emphatically says- If Spain is not with 'us, she will be against us'-there must be a pacte de famille, or there is no security. War between neighbouring European nations, even in the present state of railroads and civilization, is a possible contingency; and the circumstances that might give rise to it, and under which military operations would be

conducted, are not to be neglected. Great Britain would, in a contest with France, rather have to deal with France alone, than with France in alliance with Spain. Prussia, in the same manner, would consider some anxiety on the Spanish frontier, a useful diversion to the application of the undivided military strength of France on the Rhine; and Austria might feel that an alliance with Spain would not be valueless, in the event of the ambition of a future French monarch being directed towards Italy. The independence of Spain cannot, therefore, be altogether indifferent to continental statesmen who attach any value to the balance of power-or, in other words, to such a distribution of force and influence among the powers of the first order, as shall discourage the prosecution of schemes of separate aggrandisement by any one of them. M. Guizot flatters himself, and endeavours to persuade the French Chamber, that the English Cabinet stands alone in its objections to the pretensions of the French Government, and to the marriage of a French prince with the presumptive heiress to the throne of Spain: he takes their silence for assent. We feel confident that he is mistaken the peculiar relations, in which the great continental Powers stand to Queen Isabella, precluded them from taking any part, or expressing any opinion, respecting the marriage of a sovereign with whom they held no diplomatic intercourse; but the ambitious character of the French policy in Spain cannot have escaped their observation, and must have shaken their confidence in the caution and moderation of the King of the French and his minister.

It remains for us to consider the effect which the unfortunate difference on the subject of the marriage of the Infanta of Spain with the Duc de Montpensier, may have upon the general policy of the two Governments in their relations with each other. Will that effect be temporary or permanent? As far as an uncomfortable state of diplomatic intercourse is an evil, we are assured that the effect must be temporary. It cannot be the wish or the interest of either cabinet to cherish the bitterness that has been engendered by a discussion which has ceased to have an immediate object, and which does not force either to adopt positive measures; on the contrary, it must be the anxious desire of the Ministers in both countries to resume those habits of courteous intercourse that previously existed between them; they must be equally solicitous to pursue a course of joint action in some important questions, still pending, in which their views are similar, and which are wholly unconnected with the late misunderstanding; but we cannot flatter ourselves that the same absolute

6

confidence will be entirely restored. British statesmen must have learnt, that the traditional policy of the old French Monarchy and of the Empire survives the change of dynasty, and must be prepared for certain contingencies in which the prosecution of separate French interests will prevail, even under the reigning monarch, over the avowed policy of maintaining a good understanding on all great European questions with the Government of Great Britain. So far the effect of the late disagreement will be permanent: it will produce caution-but caution need not pass into suspicion or jealousy. The entente 'cordiale' had become a byeword in both countries; and most undoubtedly the ostentatious profession of it had, on some occasions, proved a cause of embarrassment and weakness to the ministry in France. It was difficult for them to be just, lest they should be suspected of subserviency; and we do not exaggerate when we say, that the marriage of the Queen of Spain with the Prince Leopold of Saxe Coburg, in itself quite unobjectionable if contracted with the consent of the Spanish nation, would have been fatal to the Soult-Guizot cabinet. Violent storms often clear the air; and we hope that the statesmen of both countries will, now they are removed from the debilitating atmosphere of a hothouse friendship, take their course with less intimacy, but with more decision and plain dealing. In England, as there is no dread of the power, so there is no jealousy of the prosperity, of France. War between the two nations is an eventuality that does not enter into the speculations of any party in this country; and with some knowledge of public feeling in France, we venture to assert, that there are no men likely to form a government in that country, who would not view a rupture with England as a great European calamity, and a serious difficulty to themselves.

ART. XIII.—A Plea for Ragged Schools; or, Prevention better than Cure. By the Rev. THOMAS GUTHRIE. Edinburgh:

1847.

H ERE is a pamphlet to be had for sixpence! and which may be read in half an hour. But, if the reader be worth his salt, the first cost will be but the beginning. Before it has done with him, and he with it, it will have cost him something

more.

Mr Guthrie is known over Scotland as a great pulpit orator, full of pictures and of passion; with commanding gestures, and a dramatic action, of which English congregations have no experience. You feel at once that in him it is nature and not art: or, if it must be called art, it is the honest art of rising, in manner as well as mind, to the height and ardour of his inspiring themes. He drops down gracefully from the most soaring flight to the most familiar illustration, and strikes home by a strong and stirring diction, which, like other electric forces, clears the way before it, penetrates and consumes.

Franklin tells us, that very prudent persons, when they went to hear Whitfield preach for a charity, did not trust themselves with their purses. They were seen, however, occasionally borrowing money of their neighbours. The stony heart was stormed; and the wall that had fenced it round, fell down at the preacher's call. We know the space which separates written. and spoken words. Yet we have some hope that Mr Guthrie may be heard through the press on this occasion, without the difference being perceived. The subject of his appeal lies of itself near the conscience and the heart of every body. Suffer them to come unto you! Of such should be the kingdom of heaven. We scarcely think we could have been more deeply affected by it, had we been a hearer of his Sermon on the Mount-(one of an assembled multitude-wave urging wave) than when we read it alone in our silent room. For, so this tract came to us—a few pages of common letter-press: But they woke us up, as a trumpet heard at night. And even now, on returning to them, our heart again beats faster; for the solemn warning again approaches us- Inasmuch as ye did it not unto 'the least of these, ye did it not unto me.'

Society has, at present, in too many countries, the look of Lazarus at the gate of Dives. There is the rich man faring sumptuously every day; while the dogs are licking the poor man's Yet the hand of private charity is not shortened. Dryden's image, that man was made

sores.

With open hands, and with extended space
Of arms, to satisfy a wide embrace,'

was never so near being verified as now. If we but look at what is taking place at home every year, the heart of the nation is growing softer and softer, and even seems in danger of losing its strength in its softness. Capital punishments will speedily become impossible. Already, nobody dares propose to reduce the comforts of the worst criminal in a public jail as low

as what many a hard-working man would be thankful to make sure of in his honest cottage. Political economy can hardly show its face, for what is called its hard-heartedness. As to its getting a fair hearing, that is already past praying for. To confess a belief in some of its most certain truths, demands almost as much courage in England at present, as was required of a physician to exercise his calling during the plague at Milan. What makes this impatient sensitiveneness more unreasonable, is the fact of its having come on us at a time when political economy is actually much more occupied with the prevention of poverty, than with the formation and distribution of wealth. To keep off famine from the land, and mitigate the pressure of destitution, is the characteristic object of its most obnoxious province. The author of the Essay on Population was born, by his gentle nature, the poor man's friend. We knew him well; and it was as impossible to know him and not to love him, as it is for a reader of ordinary intelligence to peruse his writings, and not perceive that the poor have much more of a personal interest in them than the rich.

At no period of our history can it have been of more importance than at present, that the course and objects of public charity should be wisely chosen. Strength of purpose and good intentions are not enough. Woe, treble woe, to those who let the evils of society accumulate till the mass of misery becomes past enduring! Yet, outraged humanity must not rush upon extremes. Legislators on Factory Bills and Poor Laws-in other words, on the most complicated and vital parts of our social system, must bring with them to their perilous interposition, the hearing ear and the understanding heart. The more we exalt the claims of humanity and of conscience (and they cannot possibly be exalted higher than they deserve), the more necessary it becomes that we should duly comprehend the wants and the intelligence of our age. From neglecting this duty, too great predominance is often given to particular subjects, while others, quite as important, are slurred over altogether. We are creatures of habit, in the use we make of even our best feelings. Slavery, for instance, has been a second nature to all mankind, in nearly all ages. John Newton was, while captain of a slaver, as much at his ease, as when directing the conscience of Cowper, and of the most religious section of the religious world. But a time comes; and the eyes of men are opened. All depends on the course which is taken at such a moment; whether we rush from one extreme to another (which human nature is so prone to) or buckle to the far more difficult task of a patient, judicious, and