seldom gave evidence of noble bursts of
feeling; still more rarely, I regret to say, do they evince any sorrow
for past misconduct--any penitence for by-gone evil.

This would be, indeed, the severest ordeal of a people's greatness;
this, the brightest evidence of national purity. Happy am I to say
such an instance is before us; proud am I to be the man to direct
public attention to the fact. The following paragraph I copy verbatim
from the _Times_.

"On the 18th of June, the anniversary of the battle of
Waterloo, a black flag was hoisted by the Belgians at the
top of the monument erected on the field where the battle
was fought."

A black flag, the emblem of mourning, the device of sorrow and regret,
waves over the field of Waterloo! Not placed there by vanquished
France, whose legions fought with all their chivalry; not hoisted by
the proud Gaul, on the plain where, in defeat, he bit the dust; but in
penitence of heart, in deep sorrow and contrition, by the Belgians who
ran--by the people who fled--by the soldiers who broke their ranks and
escaped in terror.

What a noble self-abasement is this; how beautifully touching such an
instance of a people's sorrow, and how affecting to think, that while
in the halls of Apsley House the heroes were met together to
commemorate the glorious day when they so nobly sustained their
country's honour, another nation should be in sackcloth and ashes, in
all the trappings of woe, mourning over the era of their shame, and
sorrowing over their degradation. Oh, if a great people in all the
majesty of their power, in all their might of intellect, strength, and
riches, be an object of solemn awe and wonder, what shall we say of
one whose virtues partake of the humble features of every-day life,
whose sacrifice is the tearful offering of their own regrets?

Mr. O'Connell may declaim, and pronounce his eight millions the finest
peasantry in the world--he may extol their virtues from Cork to
Carrickfergus--he may ring the changes over their loyalty, their
bravery, and their patriotism; but when eulogising the men who assure
him "they are ready to die for their country," let him blush to think
of the people who can "cry" for theirs.

A NUT FOR WORKHOUSE CHAPLAINS.

[Illustration]

The bane and antidote of England is her immense manufacturing
power--the faculty that enables her to inundate the whole habitable
globe with the products of her industry, is at