after they have become current. In particular, the 19th Henry 7th. c 5. enacts, that "all gold and silver coins shall pass for the sum they were coined for;" and the 5th and 6th of Edward VI. c. 19. prohibits the exchanging of any coined gold or silver, for more than the king's proclamation bad, or shall have, declared to be its value. Nor is it necessary, in general, that the sovereign should publish his notices, with respect to the currency which he issues. Whatever coins come from his mint, with his stamp or other authenticating marks, are held, in ordinary cases, to be the value affixed to them in the indentures which he enters into with the officers of the mint. A royal proclamation is only necessary when base coins, or money below the standard of sterling, are to be made current; when coins already in circulation are to be raised or lowered in nominal value, or deeried altogether; and, lastly, when foreign coins are to be rendered legal currency at a certain rate. The custom of stamping the coinage with the image of the sovereign in whose reign it was executed, was introduced into Britain by the Romans. Among this people, the Monetarii impressed the images of men who had been eminent in their families on the coins; but no living man's head was ever on a Roman coin, till after the fall of the Commonwealth. From that time, they bore the emperor's head on one side. Since this period, the practice of stamping the prince's image on coins has obtained among all civilized nations; the Turks and other Mohammedans excepted, who, in detestation of images, inscribe only the prince's name, with the year of the transmigration of their prophet. In England, for a length of time after the dissolution of the Saxon Heptarchy, the coinage, which was subject to the caprice of any individual, as to its figure and quality, was impressed with the views of buildings, &c. We now come to the last part of our inquiry, viz. the debasement the English currency has undergone at various periods. At the Conquest, the pound sterling was equal to a Tower pound of silver of the old standard, and it continued of this weight till the 28th of Edward the First. Before this period, it was divided into twenty shillings, and each shilling into twelve pennies, of the weight of 24 grains each: but in the reign of this king it was debased into twenty shillings and three-pence. Edward the Third, by three several deductions, brought it to twenty-five shillings in tale; Henry the Fourth reduced it to thirty; Edward the Fourth, to thirty-seven and three-pence ;Henry the Eighth, to 42s. 24d. in the eighteenth year of his reign. Passing over the changes which happened be. tween this and the second of Elizabeth, she, by two reductions, brought the Tower pound to 58s. 14d. or the pound troy to 62s. at which it still continues. The debasements of the gold coins have been both by a diminution of their weight, and an increase of their denomination; but principally in the latter way, and with a view of adjusting them to the value of the silver currency, during its successive changes, both real and nominal. When guineas were first coined, they were issued at 20s. value. In 1688, they rose to 21s. 6d. But the silver coin, during the remaining part of the century, suffered extremely from clipping. In the year 1696, the evil rose to such a height, that the guinea passed for thirty shillings. After the re-coinage, however, in 1697 and 1698, they fell by degrees, being prohibited from passing for more than 22s. 6d. But this being still higher than the marketprice of gold bullion, the new silver coins were accordingly exported. To remedy this grievance, therefore, government, in the year 1717, referred the consideration of the matter to Sir Isaac Newton, who, to avoid the consequence of a premium being given for payments in silver, recommended a reduction of the guinea to twenty-one shillings, at which rate it was fixed as legal tender. The violent changes, however, which took place in the monetary system, during the interval between the 34th Henry VIII. and the 6th Edward VI. were of a different description from those above-mentioned. They consisted in alterations of the standard. By three several debasements, Henry VIII. reduced the standard of silver from 11 ounces, 2 pennyweights, and 18 grains alloy, to 4 ounces and 8 ounces alloy; and Edward the 6th brought it down to 3 ounces and 9 ounces, so that the pound of old stand A few instances of the Value of Money in former times, transcribed from the "Chronicon Preciosum." ard silver was coined into £13. 6s. 44d. | tender only for sums not exceeding Nor was any regard paid to the rela- one shilling; some of them for sums tive values of gold and silver during not exceeding sixpence. these alterations. The proportion in the 36th Henry the VIIIth, was 6 to one; in the 3rd Edward the VIth, it was 5 to one; and in the 5th Edward the VIth, it was only 2 to one; so that enormous profits, sometimes above 350 per cent. were made by melting and exporting the gold coin; and accordingly it disappeared from circulation for a short time. In the course of our observations on this very interesting subject, we stated, that, on account of the frequent debasements made in the gold coinage, its circulation was much impeded; it may not be uninteresting to pursue the inquiry. When Henry the IIId first issued goid coins, the people refused to give them currency. A precept was therefore directed to the mayor and sheriff's of London to enforce their circulation. But the citizens making a representation against this kind of money, a proclamation was published by the king, declaring, that they were only to be taken at the option of the receiver, and that the holders of them should receive the full value from the treasury, deducting the charges of coinage. The first gold coins which Edward the IIId made, were thought to be overvalued, and therefore were refused. A proclamation was issued, ordering them to be taken only with the consent of the receiver, and another was soon after published to call them in. A new coinage was then made, in which gold was, if any thing, undervalued; but still the people, unaccustomed to gold coin, refused them; and they were ordered to pass only in large payments. This prejudice continued till the 19th Edward the IIId. Since that time, they have been legal tender, at the mint rate, till the 15th Charles II.; and from that year to the 3rd George I. at any rate above a certain medium fixed by law. They were then, once more, made legal tender, at a fixed rate, equally with silver; and, in the 14th of this king, the silver coins were ordered to be legal tender for sums exceeding twenty-five pounds, only according to their weight, (and not by tale,) at the rate of 5s. 2d. per ounce. This regulation was renewed in 1798, and still continues in force. The copper coins are legal 83.-VOL. VII. In About the year 900, king Alfred left to each of his daughters £100 in money. In 1221, Joan, eldest daughter to king John, upon her marriage with Alexander, king of Scotland, had a dowry of £1000 per annum. 1278, Edward I. gave with Joan, cóntracted to the king of the Romans, 10,000 marks sterling, and this to be returned in case the prince died before her. In 1314, Elizabeth, wife of Robert Bruce, king of Scotland, being imprisoned in England, was allowed, for herself and family, 20s. per week. In 1330, Joan of Oxford, nurse to the Black Prince, had a pension of £10 per annum; and Maud Plumpton, a rocker, had 10 marks. The pensions allowed by the king to the cardinals and great officers of the pope, who were, as it were, retained by the court of England, was at the most 50 marks a year. In 1351, workmen were to take their wages in wheat, at the rate of 10d. per bushel; a master carpenter, mason, or tiler, was allowed by the day 3d., their journeymen 2d., their servants, or boys, 1d. In 1402, the salary of a lord chief justice of the king's bench was £40 per annum. In 1408, a lord chief justice of the common pleas had 55 marks per annum. In 1549, the chief justice of the king's bench had an addition of £30 to his salary; and each justice of the same bench and common pleas, £20. And, indeed, adds the author, at the very best, the rewards seem to have been far from equal to the faithful discharge of their most painful and most useful office; and yet it hath so pleased God to bless their labours, that I do not think I misreckon, when I say, that the law hath laid the foundation of two-thirds of all the honours and great estates in all England. I hope, continues he, I shall be excused in lengthening this note with Sir Harry Spelman's complaint, that "the laws have not sufficient regard to the different price of things, in condemning people to death for a theft to the value of 12d; the original law having been made when 21s. were equal to 60s. in our days. 3 R SOLITARY HOURS. (Continued from col. 920.) "The first sure symptom of a mind in health, AGREEABLY to promise, I proceed to remark, that attendance on the public | worship of God, is another duty, from the performance of which the Christian derives a portion of the most exalted delight. Forsake not the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is," is the injunction of an inspired apostle; and it is the anxious wish of the true Christian to be uniform in his compliance with it. His heart rejoices, when it is said to him, "Let us go up to the house of God:" for there his soul engages in those exercises which are most congenial to it. In the sanctuary of the Lord, he meets with those who, in his estimation, and in the estimation of God and holy angels, are the excellent ones of the earth; and who have the same Father, and are travelling to the same country, as himself. With them he cordially unites, in offering up joint prayers and praises to the throne of their Creator. The Christian, when in the house of prayer, often receives the choicest communications of divine grace, and there his heavenly Father has frequently made the most glorious revelations of his gracious presence to him. There the God of Bethel has often met with him, and blessed him; and there he hears the glad tidings of salvation proclaimed to him, which, of all others, are most interesting and gladdening to his soul. ter brooks. His soul thirsteth to see the power and the glory of God, as he had seen them heretofore in his sancfainteth for the courts of the Lord. tuary. His soul longeth, yea, even He envieth the sparrow and the swallow, for they find a nest in the altars of God. So delightful are the emotions which the saint experiences from attending the public worship of Jehovah, that he exclaims, in the holy transport of his soul,-"How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts! A day in thy courts is better than a thousand: I had rather be a doorkeeper in thy house, than dwell in tents of wickedness." Such was the experience of the man according to God's own heart, when removed to a distance from his house; and I appeal to all real Christians who read these lines, and who have been similarly situated, whether you have not experienced something of the same kind?— and if so, does it not demonstrate the superior felicity you enjoyed, when favoured with the opportunity of waiting on your Maker in the house of prayer? Devout meditation is another duty, to the performance of which the Christian is called, and from which he derives another portion of the highest gratification. That it is an imperious duty enjoined on every Christian, to be frequently engaged in the exercise of devout meditation, is acknowledged by all; and the performance of the duty is religiously observed by every follower of Jesus. Hence the Christian is so often in retirement, meditating on the things of God. While others repair to the theatre, the masquerade, the ball-room, or other scenes of sinful gaiety, he anxiously retires to some secluded spot, wishing to be unseen by human eye, and unknown to the world, that there he might be exWe may form some estimate of the empted from the fascinations which truly exquisite enjoyment which the would interrupt the train of his pious Christian derives from attending the meditations. To the eye of the casual public worship of God, from his mourn- spectator, he appears to be unemful experience when compelled to be ployed; but though his body may be absent; for it is quite incompatible motionless, his soul is the subject of with the constitution of human nature, holy activity. It is actively engaged to mourn over the loss of that, from in contemplating the favours commuthe possession of which we derive no nicated in God's creation and provigratification. The Christian, like the dence, but, above all, in the wonders sweet singer of Israel, when compelled and kindness of his grace. It recalls to be absent from the house of the to recollection the wonders which God Lord, feels his soul panting after it, as hath done for it, and is overcome with the thirsty hart panteth after the wa-emotions of praise, of gratitude, and delight. This is a theme, from the | should anxiously wish that he should contemplation of which the Christian ever be so engaged. But the infirmiderives such elevated pleasure, that ties which attach to human nature, in he could willingly dwell on it without its present state, and the circumstances intermission. And when the few mo- with which we are surrounded, prements which intervene betwixt him vent, for a time, the possibility of his and death, have passed away, it shall wishes being realized." In fine, the assuredly be the subject of his delight- Christian believer, when performing ful contemplation, through all the aright the duty of devout meditation, stages of his eternal existence. and when enjoying communion with his God, feels something like the commencement of heaven on earth. But it is from devout meditation, considered as the principal medium through which the Christian enjoys communion with his God, that he derives the greatest portion of exquisite pleasures. In these moments of pious meditation, he cultivates the closest fellowship with Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. And if the two disciples, when travelling to Emmaus, in the company of their Lord, though unknown to them at the time, felt their hearts burn within them, the Christian must surely be the subject of exquisite pleasure, when holding intercourse with a triune God. Such are a few of the duties which the Christian owes to his God, and from the performance of which he derives such inconceivable delight.But there are duties which he also owes to his fellow-men, and from the performance of these he likewise enjoys a high degree of gratification. He is commanded to do good unto all, but especially unto them who are of the household of faith; and he complies with this command, and at the same time imitates the example which his heavenly Master has set him, of going about doing good. The Christian philanthropist is of all others the most liberal and disinterested. His noble spirit aspires at nothing less, than the present and eternal interests of the whole human race. His prayers and benevolent exertions are never wanting in their behalf; and he derives a sublime and unceasing pleasure from all he says and does on their account. "There is," says the pious and venerable bishop Beveridge, "more real pleasure and delight to be enjoyed from one single thought of God, rightly performed, than all the pleasures, and honours, and riches of this world, put them all together, are able to afford. As the contemplation of God, and the enjoyment of communion with him, will constitute the most exalted pleasure of the redeemed to all eternity, so the Christian derives the The prospects which the Christian most sublime enjoyments of which his religion presents to the mind of the nature, while in this world, is suscep- believer, are also sources of abundant tible, from the exercise of contemplat-joy to him. He is not merely secured ing and holding_intercourse with the against the possibility of being subDivine Being. The soul of the Chris-jected to that intolerable and eternal tian, when so engaged, dissevers for a time the ties which bind it to this world: it sees much of the world's vanity and wretchedness; and, like the spirit of St. Paul when in a vision, is caught up into the third heaven, and there descries such objects and enjoyments as are impossible for man to utter. Now, if the three disciples, when on the mount of transfiguration with their Lord, and when beholding the transcendent glory with which they were then overshadowed, did participate of such refined pleasure, as to have wished that they could ever remain there; it is no wonder that the Christian, when deriving such exquisite gratification from the enjoyment of communion with heaven, misery which he had deserved; but he has also a well-grounded hope of being eternally and inconceivably happy. If our minds rejoice in the near prospect of some earthly good, O how much more reason has the Christian to rejoice in the full assurance of that felicity which is reserved for him in heaven, and which shall be eternal and complete, especially when he reflects, that worldly prospects are often never realized; but that the pleasures which he has in view are sure as the existence and immmutability of Jehovah. Among the delightful prospects which Christianity discloses to the mind of the believer, that of complete and eternal freedom from sin, and the his greatest pleasure. Like Belshazzar, when he discovered the handwriting on the wall, he feels an uneasiness of mind, which neither the luxuries of the table, nor the merriment and plaudits of his surrounding associates, are able to remove. And if the mind of the sensualist, even in the moment of its highest gratification, and amidst the company of his sprightly companions, feels something which interrupts his enjoyments, we may well conceive how miserable he must be, in the silence and darkness of midnight, and in the seclusion of solitude, when the mind is awakened to reflection. There is a remorse which he then feels, arising from a consciousness of guilt, and from fearful anticipations of future retribution, which greatly counterbalances that little gratification, which he derives from the unrestrained indulgence of his animal propensities. enjoyment of uninterrupted commu- | joyment of that which he regards as nion with God, may be numbered as as among the chief. It was sin that brought death into the world, and all our wo; and it is the prevalence of sin that, to the mind of the Christian, is the subject of his mourning and his lamentation. How truly delightful then must it be to him, to enjoy the sure prospect of complete and eternal deliverance from that over which he deeply mourned during his existence in this world? And as those moments, in which he has enjoyed even but a partial communion with his God, have been, beyond all comparison, the happiest he has ever experienced in this life, the sure prospect of enjoying uninterrupted and eternal intercourse with him in heaven, must necessarily furnish a source of unspeakable bliss. In short, since the Christian shall possess whatever is necessary to render his exalted and perfected nature everlastingly happy, it ceases to be a subject of astonishment, when he contemplates this glorious prospect of a blessed immortality, that his soul should glow with the most elevated and refined delight. Having thus mentioned some of the sources from which the joys of the Christian proceed; it must evidently appear, that, instead of being that morose and gloomy being, which some have represented him to be, he must of necessity be the most cheerful and the happiest of men. The world, indeed, when pronouncing judgment on the comparative happiness of men, is often disposed to consider the jovial debauchee, who gives loose reins to his animal propensities, and indulges to excess in sensual pleasures, as the man who possesses the greatest share of this world's felicity. But that mirth and pleasantry which are depicted in his countenance, and are regarded by some as sure evidences of his happy frame of mind, rarely furnish a correct index to his internal feelings. In this instance, at least, the principles of Lavater's physiognomy, are not founded on truth. "In the midst of worldly laughter," says Solomon, "the heart is often sorrowful; and the end of sinful mirth is heaviness." There is something within the breast of the man of the world, which, though he cannot well describe, he most acutely feels; and this prevents the true en But far different, indeed, are the feelings and experience of the Christian. His mind is at all times calm and serene. He feels an inward complacency and satisfaction of soul, which is infinitely preferable to all the pleasures which the men of the world can derive from that in which they are disposed to place their chief good. "The grace of God,” says the amiable Kirke White, whose premature death every lover of religion and literature must deeply lament," the grace of God is the source of exquisite enjoyment. What can be more delightful, than that sweet and placid calm which it casts over one's mind; or, than the tenderness it sheds abroad in our hearts?" Yes! there is such exquisite pleasure to be derived from the consciousness of being the favourites of Heaven, of which, he who has not experienced it, can form no idea. And it is one of the peculiar and exclusive properties of this pleasure, that it grows with the Christian's growth, and strengthens with his strength. Instead of being diminished, it is rather enhanced by the varying events and circumstances of life. "The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day." From the above remarks, then, it will evidently appear, that he only is blessed, who experimentally knows the joyful sound; that he only is |