ciates from among those placed on the same social level with ourselves; or that we should attempt to cure the too great separation of the different classes of society, by mixing them all up together in one discordant and incongruous hash. It is not by abolishing social distinctions, or by attempting to override and crush down the natural feelings which they generate, that we can unite all classes in an harmonious whole. The value of the fusion of sentiment and feeling which we long for, depends entirely upon those distinctions being preserved, and the feelings which they generate respected. They constitute the grace and beauty, as well as an indispensable condition of the stability, of the social edifice. The relation which they establish is one which has its peculiar and appropriate virtues, for the exercise of which, without them, there would be no place, and the observance of which constitutes the strongest cement by which society is bound together. By them "we give to our frame of polity the image of a relation in blood, bind up the constitution of our country with our dearest domestic ties, adopt our fundamental laws into the bosom of our family affections, keeping inseparable, and cherishing with the warmth of all their combined and mutually-reflected charities, our state, our hearths, our sepulchres, and our altars." "1 For the very reason for which a closer harmony of feeling between the different classes of society is necessary to the general safety of all, is the creating it a work which cannot be got up when we please, or to meet an emergency. It is not a thing to be done by associations and subscriptions, or any such mechanical device. The agency to be employed is entirely moral in its character, and must act upon, and find a re-acting response in, the heart and the affections. But the higher classesthe more educated-those whose position surrounds them with circumstances which vividly impress the imagination, and give, consequently, a weight and influence to every thing connected with them, are those from whom the influence must first emanate. If they wish to infuse generally among those placed beneath them in the social scale a respect for their rights, an attachment to their persons, a faith in the excellence of those social arrangements which have given them their high place, an acquiescence in the justice of those inequalities of condition by which they are so greatly favoured, they must not imagine that they can accomplish this by any kind of agency except that which is fitted by its nature to produce respect, attachment, and submission, in the hearts of free and reflecting men. They must begin, not by professing or simulating, that will never do, but by cherishing in their own breasts, and by exhibiting in active operation, that sympathy which they wish to be reflected back upon themselves. Si vis amari, ama, is the great and only law of attraction between one man and another. It will be a happy day for society when we come all thoroughly to understand that the true way to secure our rights from others is carefully to perform our duties to them; that the way to impress the character we want upon those who stand in any relation toward us, is to cultivate in ourselves the corresponding qualities of our relative position. The virtues which make a society happy are not to be produced in obedience to any word of command, or by any mode of persuasion, how eloquent and impressive soever; they will grow only under the genial warmth which is reflected from the growth of corresponding virtues in that quarter towards which their exercise must tend. It is kind masters who make good servants; liberal landlords who make industrious tenants; a paternal aristocracy which makes a contented and respectful people; and, on the other hand, the poorer classes can in no way so surely secure from the rich a generous consideration for their interests, an anxiety for their welfare, and a disposition to uphold their rights, as by excluding from their own minds (1) Burke. those weeds which choke the growth of the social virtues. Thus, while it is the manifest duty of every one of us to use his utmost efforts to keep the stream of common sympathy and affection in a continuous flow through all the veins and arteries of the social body, the sphere of our exertions is just that precise place in the body which we ourselves occupy. We exercise the most powerful, as well as the most wholesome influence upon society, when we keep ourselves right. The most effective missionary we can send into the lanes and alleys, where the poor are crowded together in festering heaps, is the man who can make his counsels effective in the saloons of the rich. A word spoken there with effect will have a more beneficial influence upon the character of the outcasts of society than a hundred, though conveying the wisest counsels, urged however impressively upon their own ears. A few kind deeds, performed in an earnest spirit, with true sincerity of heart, will do more to make good members of society than a hundred exhortations. How much more sweetly, and we venture to say quite as effectually, would the evils of society be remedied, if, on all sides, when we found anything going wrong in another quarter, we were to look for its cause and its cure among ourselves. NOTICES OF SOME ANCIENT CUSTOMS OF ENGLAND.' subject, yet can we not forbear a few more remarks We have already wandered far away from our on the "words of power," and of the magical effect ascribed to these ancient forms amongst the Scandinavians, the progenitors of our Anglo-Saxons, amongst whom they were in a considerable degree retained, and even amongst the Anglo-Normans, with whom, we are told, the peculiar forms were so scrupulously observed that" the variance of a word, or the lapse of a syllable, annulled the entire proceeding." which we have been so much indebted, we read In the learned and most interesting work to that amongst the Scandinavians the law embraced all living things; that, for instance, the beaver had "his house even as his bonde," and if a person accidentally killed the animal, he was bound to make compensation to the lord of the soil, not as indemnification for the loss of the fur, but in consideration of the beaver's "rights as an inhabitant." Ferocious wild beasts were out of the pale of the law, which decreed that "bears and wolves shall animals seem on occasion to have been treated be outlaws in every place;" and yet even these with chivalrous courtesy, and the learned editor of an ancient Saga says, that the opinion that "bears have a reasonable knowledge of Danish is yet prevalent in Norway. It is very certain that forms of law (the words of power) were recited against the animal creation with as much formality and solemnity as even against the human race; and it was supposed in the Middle Ages, that noxious vermin, rats, mice, and even insects, would obey the decree of a civil tribunal, by which they were frequently excommunicated according to law. Nay, (1) Concluded from page 48. (2) We might almost suppose that a similar opinion prevails in India regarding the animal which Thomson calls "wisest of brutes;" for Bishop Heber, in his journal, writes, when speaking of the elephant on which he rode with Lord Amherst, I was amused with one peculiarity which I had never before heard of; while the elephant is going on, a man walks by his side, telling him where to tread, bidding him take care;' 'step out;' warning him that the road is rough, slippery, &c., all which the animal is supposed to understand, and take his measures accordingly.” even in the proceedings which the superstition of stone placed therein for the purpose. The arm was the Scandinavians impelled them to take against instantaneously enveloped in a wrapper by the disembodied spirits, vampires, demons, &c., we are attendant priests, and not opened for three days, told that "le seul remède contre ces apparitions when if no marks of scalding appeared he was acest de couper la tête et de bruler le corps de ceux quitted. qui reviennent. Toutefois on ne procède pas sans forme de justice; on cite et on entend les témoins; on examine les raisons," &c. &c. For this vampire, continues our author, feared not holy water, fled not before the hallowed relics, defied bell, book, and candle; exhumation, and burning alone, could quiet him; yet was this proceeding not resorted to until, upon legal evidence of the vampire's crimes, the magistrate issued a formal decree to that effect. Even in bargains with the Tempter, concludes he, we always find a valid, if not a good consideration, and a bond, signed and sealed in due form of law. It is probable that the difficulty of obtaining the requisite number of compurgators, even in cases where there could be little moral doubt of the innocence of the accused party, led originally to that appeal to heaven," which, in the various ordeals into which it branched, forms so picturesque a feature in the legal proceedings of the Middle Ages. 66 And it was not merely a task of immense expense and labour to the reputed criminal, to obtain these oaths, where a great multitude of compurgators was required, but it was a wearisome task on the patience and penetration of the judges, to sift the conflicting testimonies, and to ascertain the worthiness of the compurgators. Therefore, they seldom opposed the "appeal to heaven," which a harassed defendant might propose; and the clergy, from obvious motives, supported ordeals, which were always under their peculiar inspection, and added much to their influence in judicial matters. Therefore, about the time of the Conquest, though the compurgation was by no means extinct, indeed was assuming more of that character which afterwards became the law of the land in the trial by jury; still, about this time, the various ordeals were universally appealed to. They were very various; but those most used in England were the ordeal of cold water-of hot water-of hot iron-of the corsned-of the cross -and finally, of the judicial combat. In the hot iron ordeal, the criminal either carried a ball of hot iron in his hand for the distance of nine feet, or walked blindfolded and bare-footed, over nine burning plough-shares, placed at equal distances. The scorched limb was instantaneously enveloped, as in the former ordeal, and not opened for three days. There is no doubt that much collusion was practised with regard to these hot water and hot iron ordeals, and that they might be performed, were the officiating priests so disposed, with almost perfect safety. The corsned was a piece of consecrated bread and cheese, swallowed at the altar; an appeal having previously been made to heaven to cause the attestator to be choked, should he really be guilty. It is this ordeal to which Earl Godwin appealed in testimony of his innocence of the lady Emma's death, when, as our story-books tell us, he was choked at the banquet. There were various modes of applying the ordeal of the cross. In criminal trials, the ceremony was usually thus conducted. When the prisoner had declared his innocence upon oath, and appealed to the judgment of the cross, two sticks were prepared exactly like one another in all respects, save that on one, the figure of a cross was cut. They were severally folded in white wool, and laid on the altar, or on the relics of the saints; after which, a solemn prayer was put up to God, that he would be pleased to discover, by evident signs, whether the prisoner was innocent or guilty. These solemnities being finished, the priest approached the altar, and took up one of the sticks. If it proved to be the one marked with the cross, the accused person was pronounced innocent, if it were the other, he was declared guilty. The appeal in civil cases was disgusting and absurd. Being assembled in a Church, each party chose a priest, the youngest and stoutest that he could find, to be his representative in the trial. These representatives were then placed on each side of some marked or famous crucifix; and, at a signal given, they both at once stretched their arms at full length, so as to form a cross with their body. In this painful position they continued to stand while divine service was performing; and the party whose representative dropped his arms first, lost his cause. These ordeals, though appearing to us rude, barbarous, and cruel, were, nevertheless, imposingly solemn in their details; and we must not forget that they were a solemn appeal to heaven, and that the result was fully believed by the people, to be the especial judgment of the Almighty. Therefore was every due preparation made by The judicial combat, though one of the most anfasting, by prayer, and by other religious ceremo-cient and universal ordeals, is not mentioned in the nies. Mass was performed, the Eucharist adminis- Anglo-Saxon laws, and seems to have been not tered, and the most earnest appeal that could be much appealed to in England until after the Conframed, was made to the party not to undergo the quest. It is so familiar to all readers, that it is ordeal, unless his conscience acquitted him of the quite unnecessary to dwell on it; but it may not be so well known that the fair sex, who in our own country were ever permitted a champion, were accustomed elsewhere to "do battle" for themselves. There is a duel of this sort quoted in an ancient German Custumal, quoted by Sir F. Palgrave, in which we find that, in order to equalize the strength of the combatants, the hero was placed in a circular pit, in which he stood as low as his girdle, armed with an oaken club or staff, of the length of a good cloth ell. The heroine was furnished with a sling or rope of equal measure, at the end of crime. In the cold water ordeal, the accused person being thrown into a well or pool, with his limbs bound, was, if he sank, pronounced innocent, and rescued before he could receive material injury. Did he float, which, in the natural order of things, and before cork jackets were invented, was scarcely possible, he was pronounced guilty, and treated accordingly. In the ordeal of hot water, the accused person plunged his arm into boiling water, and drew out a which was tied a heavy stone. With this weapon she endeavoured to fell her antagonist, whilst he, on his part, sedulously tried to twist his club in the sling; for, if he did this, as the sling was tied fast to her arm, the fair one would be at his mercy. Sorry are we that our author omits to relate the event of this peculiar "joust à l'outrance." However well suited to the exigencies of a rude and semi-barbarous people the judicial combat might be (and there appears to be little doubt that under the strict regulations to which it was subjected it was well adapted), still does it seem lamentable that, stript of all its most ennobling adjuncts-the fair trial of skill, the masterly exercise of noble weapons-for not then was it the death-giving stroke of the murderous pistol-it does seem sad that thus degraded, thus brutalized, the judicial combat should yet remain; should yet remain in that existing abuse by which every domestic charity is broken; every holy feeling of parent, or kindred, or friend, is despised; every ordinance of God is sacrificed; and every decree of heaven contemned-the DUEL. A more unequivocal and decided advantage than the judicial combat is attributed to the Norman Conqueror, viz. the Trial by Jury. The Anglo-Saxon trial by compurgators offered, however, a strong resemblance to a jury; and though a rule more defined and arranged was introduced by the Conqueror, it was not established by statute, and came into common use by very slow degrees; not perhaps till the reign of Henry the Second, when a law was made allowing a defendant to prove his innocence either by battle, or "by a jury of twelve men." For to each department of government may be applied the definition given by Sir James Mackintosh to government itself:-" A bundle of usages, the object of respect and the guide of conduct long before it is embodied, defined, and enforced in written laws." One of the most remarkable and most efficacious of William's acts was the compilation of the Domesday Book-a book invaluable as a reference even at this day, and characterised as "if not the most ancient, yet, without controversy, the most venerable, monument of Great Britain." As such, a few brief remarks on it can hardly be deemed out of place here. The volumes are preserved with the greatest care; no person is allowed to touch the writing. There are various copies extant. It is a general survey of the country. Alfred had made such a one, which was extant so late as the reign of Edward the Fourth; but it is probable that his was by no means so minute and particular as the one which William made; and it is certain that the Saxon monarch's details of lands and property were nullified during the Conqueror's reign, when all the estates of the country passed into Norman hands, to the prejudice, and almost to the extinction, of the native owners of the soil. "Therefore," says the Saxon Chronicle, "the king had a large meeting, and very deep consultation with his council about this land; how it was occupied, and by what sort of men. Then sent he his men over all England into each shire, commissioning them to find out how many hundreds of hides were in the shire, what land the king himself had, and what stock upon the land, or what dues he ought to have by the year from the shire.' Also he commissioned them to record in writing how much land his archbishops had, and his diocesan bishops, and his abbots, and his earls; and though I may be prolix and tedious, what, or how much each man had, who was an occupier of land in England, either in land or in stock, and how much money it were worth.' So very narrowly, indeed, did he commission them to trace it out, that there was not one single hide, nor a yard of land; nay, moreover, (it is shameful to tell, though he thought it no shame to do it,) not even an ox, nor a cow, nor a swine was there left, that was not set down in his writ." The excellent plan which was devised for the compilation of this survey, and the perfect con sistency and regularity with which its details were executed throughout every township, hundred, and shire, afford satisfactory proof that the business of government at this period was conducted with much less rudeness than is usually supposed. It has been found that false returns were made in some particular instances, but its authority, nevertheless, was never permitted to be called in question. Its decree was irreversible; from it there could be no appeal. And this authority, definitive as that of the day of dome, or judgment, is said to have given title to the book. It gave deep offence to the people; for not only did it record so irrevocably the deposition of thousands of the sons of the soil from their native rooftrees, but it was looked upon with the deepest suspicion as predicative of some further, and as yet undreamt of, oppression. This, however, if he meditated it, the Conqueror's death prevented. The Domesday Book consists of two volumes of very unequal size-one folio, the other quarto. They are written on vellum in small clear characters, much intermixed with red ink, and form "the first of the unrivalled series of territorial records which enable us to trace the history of landed property in England from the settlement of the Anglo-Norman monarchy." Almost A great deal of odium has been popularly attached to William on account of his institution (or rather of his adoption, for it was used elsewhere) of the Curfew Bell. It is probable that the observance of the rule to extinguish fire and candle at a certain hour, was on many occasions too rigidly enforced, and entailed suffering and privation on many persons; but, as a general rule, it was a most highly beneficial one. all the dwellings in the kingdom were at that time of wood; great numbers of them had no more scientific chimney than a hole in the roof, which was usually closed up when the inmates retired to rest; consequently, not merely individual fires, but wide-spreading conflagrations, were of constant occurrence. It was to prevent as far as possible these desolating fires, that strict rules were ordained for extinguishing lights and fires before the usual hour of repose. Another imperative motive, certainly, was the prevention of those secret meetings for "redress of grievances," ending usually in rebellion, which were of almost nightly occurrence in the early part of the Conqueror's reign. (1) Wordsworth has adopted the common prejudice:-- It is well known that William's death was caused by an accident whilst he was engaged in the burning of Caen. The historians have put a dying confession into his lips, by which "he admonished all those that were present in sayings worthy to be remembered, mixed sometimes with tears;" but as this is in all likelihood entirely apocryphal, we will not introduce it here. Scarcely had the king yielded his last breath ere all the nobles around him took horse and hastened away. The inferiors, with brutal rapacity, snatched away the armour, vessels, apparel, linen-every thing, indeed, that could be removed-and abso-"Ye ken I bute speak the truth." In Scotland six lutely left the royal corpse untended on the ground. But the dishonour offered to his remains did not terminate here; for even at the moment of interment, Anselm Fitz-Arthur forbid the burial, because the land in which the grave was prepared had been forcibly and unjustly wrested from his father. The clergy around the grave instantly offered a reasonable compensation, and the solemnity was concluded. HELEN WALKER. Ir is to be regretted that no fuller account has been preserved of the act of high-minded, persevering courage by which Helen Walker, a simple Scotch maiden, saved her sister from a shameful and unmerited death; voluntarily encountering untold difficulties and dangers rather than speak the one word of untruth, by which she might so easily have gained the same end. An outline, all that could then be learnt of her adventures, came many years after to the knowledge of a lady, who had the penetration at once to perceive how well fitted was such a history for the powers of the greatest novelist of this or any age. She wrote to the author of Waverley, at first anonymously, recounting the story, and the circumstance through which she had learnt it. Subsequently her name was made known to him as Mrs. Goldie, of Craigmure, near Dumfries. He entered as warmly as she expected into the beauty and the merits of her history; and, not long after, the world was at once benefited and delighted by perhaps the most interesting of his romances, "The Heart of Mid Lothian," of which this incident forms the groundwork. Helen Walker herself suggested the beautiful character of Jeanie Deans. Subsequent inquiries have added little that can be depended on to the original account; but we have gratefully to acknowledge the kind and willing exertions of a lady, whose near connexion with Mrs. Goldie best qualifies her for the task, to furnish us with any fresh circumstances which time might have brought to light, correcting, at the same, the misstatements which others have fallen into from the wish to amplify and enlarge on insufficient data. Helen Walker was the daughter of a small farmer of Dalwhairn, in the parish of Irongray, in the county of Dumfries, where, after the death of her father, she continued to reside, supporting her widowed mother by her own unremitting labour and privations. On the death of her remaining parent she was left with the charge of her sister Isabella, much younger than herself, and whom she educated and maintained by her own exertions. Attached to her by so many ties, it is not easy to conceive her feelings when she found this sister must be tried by the laws of her country for child-murder, and that she herself was called upon to give evidence against (1) Wife of Thomas Goldie, Esq., Commissary of Dumfries. her. In this moment of shame and anguish she was told by the counsel for the prisoner, that, if she could declare that her sister had made any preparations, however slight, or had given her any intimation on the subject, such a statement would save her sister's life, as she was the principal witness against her. Helen's answer was: "It is impossible for me to swear to a falsehood, whatever may be the consequence; I will give my oath according to my conscience." The trial came on, and Isabella Walker was found guilty and condemned. In removing her from the bar she was heard to say to her sister: "O Nelly, ye have been the cause of my death;" when Helen repliedweeks must elapse between the sentence and the execution; and of this precious interval Helen knew how to avail herself. Whether her scheme had been long and carefully considered, or was the inspiration of a bold and vigorous mind in the moment of its greatest anguish at her sister's reproach, we cannot tell; but the very day of the condemnation she found strength for exertion and for thought. Her first step was to get a petition drawn up, stating the peculiar circumstances of her sister's case; she then borrowed a sum of money necessary for her expenses; and that same night set out on her journey, barefooted and alone, and in due time reached London in safety, having performed the whole distance from Dumfries on foot. Arrived in London, she made her way at once to John, Duke of Argyle. Without introduction or recommendation of any kind, wrapped in her tartan plaid, and carrying her petition in her hand, she succeeded in gaining an audience, and presented herself before him. She was heard afterwards to say, that, by the Almighty's strength, she had been enabled to meet the duke at a most critical moment, which, if lost, would have taken away the only chance for her sister's life. There must have been a most convincing air of truth and sincerity about her, for the duke interested himself at once in her cause, and immediately procured the pardon she petitioned for, with which Helen returned to Dumfries on foot just in time to save her sister's life. Isabella, or Tibby Walker, thus saved from the fate which impended over her, was eventually married by Waugh, the man who had wronged her, and lived happily for great part of a century, in or near Whitehaven, uniformly acknowledging the extraordinary affection to which she owed her preservation. It may have been previous to her marriage that the following incident happened:-A gentleman who chanced to be travelling in the north of England, on coming to a small inn, was shown into the parlour by a female servant, who, after cautiously shutting the door, said-"Sir, I am Nelly Walker's sister;" thus showing her hope that the fame of her sister's heroism had reached further than her own celebrity of a far different nature; or, perhaps, removed as she was from the home and the scenes of her youth, the sight of a face once familiar to her may have impelled her to seek the consolation of naming her sister to one probably acquainted with the circumstances of her history, and of that sister's share in them. The manner in which Sir Walter Scott became acquainted with Helen Walker's history has been already alluded to. In the notes to the Abbotsford edition of his novels he acknowledges his obligation on this point te Mrs. Goldie, "an amiable and ingenious lady, whose wit and power of remarking and judging character still survive in the memory of her friends." Her communication to him was in these words: "I had taken for summer lodgings a cottage near the old abbey of Lincluden. It had formerly been inhabited by a lady who had pleasure in embellishing cottages, which she found, perhaps, homely and poor enough; mine possessed many marks of taste and elegance, unusual in this species of habitation in Scotland, where a cottage is literally what its name declares. From my cottage door I had a partial view of the old abbey before men tioned; some of the highest arches were seen over and some through the trees scattered along a lane which led down to the ruin, and the strange fantastic shapes of almost all those old ashes accorded wonderfully well with the building they at once shaded and ornamented. The abbey itself, from my door, was almost on a level with the cottage; but on coming to the end of the lane it was discovered to be situated on a high perpendicular bank, at the foot of which ran the clear waters of the Cluden, when they hasten to join the sweeping Nith, "Whose distant roaring swells and fa's.' As my kitchen and parlour were not very far distant, I one day went in to purchase some chickens from a person I heard offering them for sale. It was a little, rather stout-looking woman, who seemed to be between seventy and eighty years of age; she was almost covered with a tartan plaid, and her cap had over it a black silk hood tied under the chin, a piece of dress still much in use among elderly women of that rank of life in Scotland; her eyes were dark, and remarkably lively and intelligent. I entered into conversation with her, and began by asking how she maintained herself, &c. She said that in winter she footed stockings; that is, knit feet to country people's stockings, which bears about the same relation to stocking-knitting that cobbling does to shoe-making, and is, of course, both less profitable and less dignified; she likewise taught a few children to read; and in summer she 'whiles reared a wheen chickens.' "I said I could venture to guess from her face she had never married. She laughed heartily at this, and said: 'I maun hae the queerest face that ever was seen, that ye could guess that. Now do tell me, madam, how ye came to think sae? I told her it was from her cheerful, disengaged countenance. She said: Mem, have ye na far mair reason to be happy than me, wi' a gude husband, and a fine family o' bairns, and plenty o' every I thing? For me, I am the puirest of a' puir bodies, and can hardly contrive to keep myself alive in a' the wee bit o' ways I hae tell't ye.' After some more conversation, during which I was more and more pleased with the old woman's sensible conversation, and the naïveté of her remarks, she rose to go away, when I asked her name. Her countenance suddenly clouded, and she said gravely, rather colouring, My name is Helen Walker; but your husband kens weel about me.' "In the evening I related how much I had been pleased, and inquired what was extraordinary in the history of the poor woman. Mr. -said, 'There were perhaps few more remarkable people than Helen Walker;' and he gave the history which has already been related here." The writer continues. "I was so strongly interested by this narrative, that I determined immediately to prosecute my acquaintance with Helen Walker; but, as was to leave the country next day, I was obliged to defer it until my return in spring, when the first walk I took was to Helen Walker's cottage. She had died a short time before. My regret was extreme, and I endeavoured to obtain some account of Helen from an old woman who inhabited the other end of her cottage. I inquired if Helen ever spoke of her past history, her journey to London, &c. Na,' the old woman said, 'Helen was a wiley body, and whene'er any o' the neebors asked anything about it, she aye turned the conversation.' In short, every answer I received only tended to increase my regret, and raise my opinion of Helen Walker, who could unite so much prudence with so much heroic virtue." This account was enclosed in the following letter to the author of Waverley, without date or signature :— "Sir,-The occurrence just related happened to me twenty-six years ago. Helen Walker lies buried in the churchyard of Irongray, about six miles from Dumfries. I once purposed that a small monument should have been erected to commemorate so remarkable a character; |