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realm. But there are usually four, sometimes six, and in some instances fewer where the boundary is small and the population thin, for every county of England. This officer was originally ordained to keep the peace, in conjunction with the Sheriff, when the earls, or aldermen of the county, gave up the wardship. However, the mode of calling him into authority has not undergone the same change as has been adopted with regard to the Sheriff and Justice of the Peace; he is still chosen by the freeholders in the county court, and for life, subject to removal, from incapacity by years, or sickness, extortion, neglect, or misbehaviour. His functions are chiefly judicial, and consist in inquiring into the cause, where any person dies suddenly, or is slain ; and this must be upon view of the body; for till that is found the Coroner cannot hold his court of inquiry, which consists of twelve men taken from the neighbourhood, and must be held as near as possible to the very place where the death happened. If it be found by this inquest that any one can be justly charged with murder, or other homicide, it then becomes the duty of the Coroner to commit him to prison to take his trial for the same; but in all cases, except where the misfortune is purely the effect of accident, he must ascertain what deodand or fine is to be exacted from the party with whom the evil originates, and levy it accordingly. He must also certify the whole of this inquisition, under his own seal and that of his jurors, to the Court of King's Bench, or the next Assizes, upon parchment, or it cannot be received as a record. An instance occurred not many years ago, of a Coroner being fined for returning his inquest upon paper. It is wisely provided that every death which occurs in the prisons shall undergo this species of investigation. Anciently the honour of the employment was esteemed a sufficient reward, and none but persons of rank could receive the distinction, a man having been removed, in the time of Edward III., from the situation, because he was only a merchant but now the office is generally conferred upon respectable attorneys, and the contests, upon a vacancy happening, are frequently attended with all the concomitants of electioneering zeal, the fees sanctioned by a recent Act of Parliament affording a handsome revenue in the manufacturing and populous districts.

The last officer to whom it is necessary to direct the attention, is the Sheriff, or bailiff of the shire. He is called in Latin vice comes, as being the deputy of the earl or comes, to whom the custody of the shire is said to have been committed, when the kingdom was first divided into counties. In process of time their superiors declined the responsibility, with the duties of the situation; so that now the King, by his letters patent, commits the care of the county to the Sheriff, and to him alone,-so far, at least, as depends upon this office. Sheriffs were formerly elected, as were most other municipal functionaries, by the people, subject to the royal approbation; they are now chosen in the following manner :-The Lord Chancellor, Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Judges, and several of the Privy Council, assemble in the Exchequer, on the morrow of St. Martin; and, after being sworn to nominate no one from any improper motive, a list of the counties is laid

before them, and the names of those persons who were nominated the year before. From this nominative list, consisting of three names, the last is pronounced by the officer to be the new Sheriff; but if any objection is made, he is passed over, and another is taken in his stead. These lists are made up from time to time by the proper officer having a number of names given him by the clerk of assize for each county, generally including those which have been on the former list, and such gentlemen in the county as are considered most eligible for the appointment. The three are then nominated, and the officer prefixes 1, 2, 3, to their names, according to the order in which they are placed; and the last of these, as has been already observed, is subsequently taken to be the Sheriff for the ensuing year, with the approbation of the King.

The duties of this officer are various and important. He is, as keeper of the King's peace, the first man in the county, and decides the elections of knights of the shire to serve in Parliament; and likewise of coroners. In his ministerial capacity he is bound to execute all processes issuing out of the King's courts, the whole of the prisoners in the county jail being considered in his custody; and he is required to see that the punishments decreed by the law are duly executed upon them. In the commencement of civil causes he serves the writ; árrests and takes bail, by means of his officers, for whose misconduct he is accountable. The Under-Sheriff usually performs all the duties of the office, a few only excepted, where the personal presence of the High Sheriff is necessary; but no Under-Sheriff can legally abide in the office more than one year, nor practise as an attorney, though this provision is very frequently evaded. The bailiffs are either special or appointed to particular hundreds; the jailors are also his servants; but as there is a manifest convenience in continuing those persons in these subordinate offices, whose experience best qualifies them to discharge the respective duties, it rarely happens that a new sheriff brings in with him a new set of servants: the general practice is to continue the old ones, taking the precaution to demand from them sufficient recognizances for their proper conduct, which afford a tolerable security against the abuse of the authority thus delegated to them.

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BRITISH HEROISM.

WHO has not wept o'er SIDNEY's early grave-
The wise, the good, the courteous, and the brave?
Who has not felt elate with patriot pride

To tell how England's Christian hero died?
On Zutphen's field of doubtful strife he lay,
While pale and faint his life-blood ebb'd away—
See, to his famish'd lips he bears the cup,

The far-sought draught which Nature bids him drain-
Why stops the warrior-why thus lifts he up

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His head to look upon another's pain?

Behold," he cried, "that soldier's anxious eye,
He asks this drop in his last agony;

The cheering draught I willingly resign,
This man's necessity is more than mine.

Who has not kindled up at NELSON'S fame,

And felt the tear flow at Trafalgar's name?

Who has not own'd, that in his patriot parth to mones
He wore the bravest and the kindest heart?

In Nile's great triumph when the hero fell,

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Amidst the fears of those who lov'd him well, & 16 trai
Why asks he not the prompt obedient skill→
Why sits he on the dark and gory ground,

To struggle with his pain, and task his will
Yet to endure his gushing, unstanch'd wound?

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"Leave not, "he said, the bleeding seamen's side,06

A streaming cockpit is no place for pride-
Alike with hopes of victory we burn-
With my brave fellows will I take my

turn'

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BDITORK.

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1. ***ENGLAND! 'twas not for me to view that hour ·
When first the clouds of anarchy had shed
Their baleful lightnings near thy lofty head,
Sweeping before thee like a comet's power;
Yet I have seen the thickening war-storm lour,
When the great Idol + fill'd the earth with dread;
But, girding on thy strength, the phantom fled,
And thou stood'st hurtless, like a time-crown'd tower:
O! thou canst battle with the jarring shook

VOL. I.

Of maddening foes; but if the soul of Truth,
Freedom, and Piety, which rear'd thy youth,
And inward Peace should flee-gone is thy rock.—
Dear Land! call up the soul of the old time,
To chase Disorder from thy glorious clime.

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EDITOR K.

+ Bonaparte.

3 Y

The French Revolution.

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Ir was on a serene autumnal evening that Henry Davis, after an absence of fourteen years, entered his native village. A mingled sentiment of delightful anticipation and of sorrowful remembrance thus led him to the scenes of his boyhood. His parents were dead; and his own name must have faded from the memory of many of his early associates. But that powerful feeling which attaches us to the place of our birth, conducted his steps, after a season of wandering and danger, to spend the first moments of repose in that home of his infancy which bhad never been absent from his thoughts. His heart expanded as he approached the ivy-covered tower, from whence he had so often heard the cheering call to Sabbath prayer. He sat down upon the stile of the churchyard, and restrained not his tears.

Henry Davis had been for some years a soldier. At the age of ten bhe was left an orphan; but his father's compassionate landlord took Thim into his household, where he received the rudiments of education. He was a lad of talent and of alacrity;-and he soon recommended himself to the notice of his master's son, who was a colonel in the army, then about to embark for Spain. Henry was cheerful and courageous; and willingly accepted an offer to accompany his patron in his expedition. He served his master faithfully; and his zeal and activity were of essential use on several occasions where spirit and fidelity were required. In one of the desperate encounters of that warfare the colonel fell,-and Henry was left without protection. He shared the perils and the hardships of a common soldier; but his gallant temper and his acute understanding recommended him to the notice of his officers; before the end of the campaign he received promotion. He continued to serve with reputation till the close of that eventful conflict, when he was discharged upon a pension, to the honourable acquirement of which his scars bore testimony.

The sun was setting as Henry proceeded onward to the more populous and busy part of the village. He recollected one or two "old fami3 liar faces;" but they did not interest him sufficiently to claim acquaintance with them. At length a pretty cottages arrested his attention.

Though the glory of the year was fading away, the little garden intimated that its possessor was not insensible to the value of each peculiar season; and a few roses, of monthly succession, climbed about the walls, proclaiming that within there was content enough to permit the inclination for simple and unexpensive ornament, Henry was pleased; and he was more pleased, when he heard through the open lattice the hum of the spinning-wheel, and a sweet female voice accompanying its music with the following little Song :

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The song ceased; but the cheerful labour continued. Henry involuntarily entered the cottage. An elderly man sat smoking his evening pipe, looking with tranquil satisfaction upon the contented occupation of his daughter. The young woman possessed all that beauty which charms at first sight, the beauty which is reflected from a sincere and binnocent mind. Henry saw that some explanation was due for abrupt entrance ;-and he told, with a frank earnestness, his name, and the occasion of his visit to the village. The old man had come to live in the neighbourhood since Henry had quitted it; but the young stranger's character was not unknown to him. He cordially invited Henry to take up his temporary abode with him ;-and his daughter I added that kind but modest welcome which at once attains the proper object of all civility the communication of happiness.

2 endThe name of the good old man was Sandford. He was a widower; -and Margaret, whom he had educated with Christian propriety, was his only child. It is unnecessary to paint the delight which Henry enjoyed in this society. Two months passed away before he bethought him that a life of such inactivity was neither fitted to his temper, nor con*sistent with his duty. In the meantime the intercourse of the young people had grown into a warmer feeling than friendship. Henry, with a laudable sincerity, explained his feelings to his more considerate bfriend. The father of Margaret did not wholly discourage his wishes; ed but he convinced him of the propriety of making some certain proTovision for the maintenance of a family, before he ventured upon the serious responsibility of a husband. The youth was impetuous; but The felt that he could not oppose his desires to the irresistible arguiments which were at once affectionate and prudent. The kind father, - however, knew the duty of endeavouring to render the wishes and the interests of his child agreeable to each other. He proposed to Henry to

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