of feeling in a lively manner both joy and sorrow; and no one can feel what true joy is who is not quick in perceiving sorrow. You will perhaps understand me when you grow older. The toad has been found enclosed and alive in the trunk of a tree, where it must have remained more than fifty years; and there is a wonderful instance related of one that was discovered in a block of marble, which it would be useless to guess how long it had been there. Now, do you think that those two animals could have been as happy as the butterfly, which flutters so giddily over the meadows, and drinks the morning dew from the butter-cup and honeysuckle; and which now and then, when he is weary, will sleep upon some sweet blossom, and lay his wings at rest upon it? That tender little creature, however, has many more enemies than the longliving toad; and, if it should escape them all, lives but a few days. Yet who would not rather be a butterfly than a toad? A cold and stormy day is but a dreary blank in its little life; but then observe it in the bright sunshine, and the soft summer wind, and no creature seems more happy. The toad, on the other hand, appears to be indifferent to every thing around him. He remains in his hole all day, and in the evening comes shuffling along the dusty roads in search of insects. He is frequently trodden upon by the passengers, and blunders away at the same pace as he did before the accident happened to him. I do not say that the toad is in itself an unhappy animal, for I believe that God has given more happiness than misery to all his creatures; I only wished to show you that the May-fly, or butterfly, in its short but very varied career, experienced fully as much delight as the toad with its long-drawn and monotonous existence."'-p. 91–93.

In July, the warning against hasty credit in ill reports, is badly motived; it shows that you possess a spirit, and an understanding superior to the common race of mankind.' In August-we really must escape out of moralities into merriment. Is not this story good? The scene is a harvest supper.

As they were clearing the board of the provision, a lubberly young lad, at the further end, who had sat for some time quite silent, and with his mouth wide open, suddenly burst into tears. Hul-lo! what's the matter with you, Giles?" My naame ain't Giles--it's Jowleymother calls me Jowley for shortness." Well, Jowley, what are you howling arter?" "Why-why," said he, sobbing," ain't it enough to make any one roar to see all that 'ere nice pudding going away, and I can't eat no more?"?—p. 139.

66

August concludes with a moral on authority, and it would be difficult to find man or maxim more excellent.

6

"Bear in mind to your life's end the saying of your friend Mr. Vincent, that there is nothing in the whole world worth the cost and trouble of a lie.' The uniform simplicity and honesty of his character, throughout his valuable life, have gained him more admiration and love from those who have known him, than his shining musical talents: yet these of themselves alone would command the respect of mankind." P. 144.

There is a beautiful propriety in this last expression, which

can scarcely be appreciated but by those who identify Mr. Vincent with the eminent musician and composer, who is elsewhere alluded to in this book. Much of what passes for shining musical talent, neither commands nor deserves respect for itself or its possessor. His does; because his musical character is his own character; the same genuine simplicity, and total absence of every species of affectation, trick, pretension, or conventionalism; the same inwrought and all pervading truthfulness; the same fancy, feeling, and sensibility, working in harmony with an acute and discursive intellect; the same appreciation, which must ever imply a kindred spirit, of poetic beauty, scientific combination, and the nobler kinds of artistical power, and the same utter negation of competitive littleness in the absorbing sense of the pure, refined, and good, whether contemplated in itself or in its influences on human enjoyment and improvement. Truly he holds, in head, heart, and hand, God's patent of nobility; and let his character be the stamp on his maxim, to give it currency through the world. Probatum est.

September opens with a Concio ad Venatores, to which we say amen most heartily. In October there are some excellent observations on keeping a diary, which is strongly recommended to the young. Áll young persons should devote a few minutes in putting down upon paper the principal occurrences of the day, and as often as possible their thoughts upon those events; and while doing this they should write in as clear and intelligible language as possible. Few teachers have any notion of the good account to which this practice may be turned in schools, always provided that the child is left entirely to himself, that his diary is as free as his thoughts, except by an occasional, unobtrusive, and uncommenting inspection. The diary may become the depository (who can tell of what importance hereafter) of a thousand stray scraps of information, observation, and reflection, which else might be blown out of the mind as lightly as they were wafted into it. There, too, will be found the surest indications of the pupil's character, and of the intellectual or moral effect which instruction is producing upon him. Habits of accurate thought and expression will be formed which are of inestimable worth. This plan has been tried, with delightful success, in the Academic Institution at Hanwell, conducted by Mr. Emerton, a prospectus of which appeared in our number for September last. Nor does the practice belong more to school education than to that self-education which then commences, but which should continue through life. If honestly done, this would be real biography, and a very different sort of thing from the poor shreds and patches of external event which are continually put forth under that designation. A few entire and faithful records would soon pour light into the dark regions of morals and metaphysics. The writers might be martyrs, but never the memory of

martyrs more blessed than theirs in the day of the world's regeneration. An incidental effect, of a subordinate description, is mentioned by Mr. Clarke, which is not unworthy of notice. "The labour of writing for the public will cause you no greater effort than that of inditing a letter to a friend.' The author's allusion is to the store of material and the habit of composition; but it is not improbable that he was unconsciously influenced by observation of the great change which is taking place in the function of the art of printing. We are beginning at length to understand the use of the press. From being little more than the means of preserving and multiplying copies of a few standard works, it is becoming the medium of universal mental communication. By the increasing extent and rapidity of its operations, it assimilates public writing to private talk, and tends to make the entire community one great conversation club, with the advantage of listening to whom we will, though his speech may be neither the loudest nor the longest. No doubt many errors, crudities, and paradoxes are poured forth which formerly would never have been printed; but still the public advantages of this familiarity of intercourse between minds of all classes are immensely preponderant. It is like a free admission to the free talk of all the intelligent (including the soi-disant intelligent) of the country. Such a ticket is worth something. If not, why do the Whigs continue the tax which Pitt laid upon it, because, as he said, it was a luxury? Hereafter each generation will produce its own literature, bearing the impress of its own peculiar spirit. The ablest expositions of sciences which are at or near completion; first-rate works of imagination, taste, and genius; and authentic records of facts; these will continue to float down from age to age, the title-deeds of an intellectual inheritance to those who will manufacture their own small change and current coin, according to their own skill, taste, and wants.

November includes a politico-philanthropical digression, of which the spirit is admirable. (p. 215-218.) How deeply, often, does what appears to be only light talk and common-place common sense go into the principles upon which institutions and society must be renovated, when such talk grows out of the axioms of human right and Christian truth. A few plain and undenied sentences about man's brotherhood, the duty of labour, and the correction of thievery, point towards reforms in the laws of inheritance, the distribution of property, and the theory and practice of criminal legislation, at which bishops would stand aghast,' and senators be more than half confounded.' Do not be alarmed, good reader; Charles Cowden Clarke neither teaches anti-property doctrines, nor fraternizes with Destructives.

The few remarks, in December, on the education, duties, capabilities, and influence of woman, (p. 234-236,) deserve much better than to be written in gold. There is a more fitting tablet

No. 86.

M

for the inscription, and there we would have them graven. They are full of sound sense, right feeling, and useful admonition.

In the concluding three months as many stories are introduced, characterised, severally, by adventure, pathos, and fancy. Each has much merit in its way. We have only to add, that we feel a little apprehension, in concluding this critique, lest the exceptions which have been taken should, notwithstanding our encomiums, convey an erroneous notion of our estimate of the book itself. We have been led to take these exceptions by our strong perception of its general interest and utility. Most books of this class have very much more that is exceptionable, while they lack those qualities which have, in the present case, induced us to write at all upon the subject, and the possession of which constitutes a strong and universal recommendation.

And now, go thy ways, young Adam, and if heedful of thy father's lessons, thou mayest become a first man' in thy time. Doubtless he may have taught thee sundry errors, but he has also taught thee to think for thyself, and done his best to cherish in thee a self-corrective and improving intelligence. Be thou, like him, an independent working man. Remember his

prophecy,

'Avoid all intimacy with fools and coxcombs. You will probably see strange times in your native land; and then those silly empty creatures will be huffed and buffeted about like the drones in a hive, when the bees have stored up all their honey, that they have been labouring to collect through the winter.'

Be on the side of the bees, Adam, whenever the drones want to cheat or rob them of their honey; even though the drones should positively declare that brimstone will be burned under the hive, unless the enjoyment of the honey and the command of the labourers be given up to them. Live on the southern coast of our island,' Adam, if you like; but get a London newspaper down there to read; and write up a petition for its being untaxed. Come up yourself, when wanted; we hope your neighbours will be wise enough to send you up, instead of some prating or propertied fellow, who has (or means to sell himself to buy) large estates in the neighbourhood, and whose manual of representative duty consists in sticking to a party, and staving off taxation from his own class. They must engage to work your garden, Adam, while you are seeing after their interests in the legislature; and if they find you in board and lodging beside, they will have a much better bargain of you, than the poor bribe-takers have of their deceivers, corrupters, and plunderers. You may have time, Adam, during the session, sometimes to hear a little of Mozart and Handel from your young friend Clara N--,' and high as her voice, taste, and science may then have raised her, you may perhaps still be delighted with some of her French ballads,' for it is a vulgar blunder, that the sublimest artist does not appre

ciate beauty, even the most light and simple. You are not such an ass as Dr. Johnson was, when he thought that because Milton wrote Paradise Lost, L'Allegro must needs be a failure. You may even be in time, Adam, to give the last blow to the selfish monopolies that have confined and polluted art, as they would have confined and polluted nature, if they could. We assume your love of art; for it is the same feeling with that love of nature which enabled your father to describe so graphically. They go together. And some day you will fall in love, Adam. then neglect your diary. Neither poets, dramatists, philosophers, nor moralists, have yet expounded Love to the world, rightly, truly, and fully. Adam, they have always made it animal, sentimental, or conventional; and you must teach them better. You must faithfully trace its purifying, softening, and expansive influence on your character, raising you towards the perfection of your being, as could no other species of influence. You must have no Eve that will play upon your weakness, but one that will stimulate your intellectual and moral strength, and whose gushing tenderness will heal all your wounds in that conflict with the foes of human rights, improvement, and happiness, for which she will buckle on your armour. Write it all down, Adam; and when you and she are dead and gone, and all your children after you, perchance some Mrs. LEMAN GRIMSTONE of those days, reading your father's request, that she who now bears that name would make a useful book for the example of young girlswhich should give some account of the characters and minds of the MOTHERS of the greatest men that ever lived,' (p. 235,) may take the hint, and incorporate your diary therein, which your boy will have made appropriate material. She will have, we hope, her predecessor's work for guidance, which, (like her other writings,) welcomed at once by the wise, good, and free spirits of the time, may then have grown into the full popularity which they deserve. We had more to say, but our parting benediction is growing somewhat lengthy, and thou art impatient to look after your dear little favourite, the primrose,' and to scrape off the moss from the espalier,' and to put pea-haulm round the cauliflower glasses,' which must be done, for there will surely be a frost as soon as the wind changes; so go thy ways, Adam, go thy ways.

NOTES ON THE NEWSPAPERS.

Church Reform and the Dissenters.-The evil anticipated in an article in our last Number seems likely to be realized. A portion of the Dissenting body has shown itself ready and willing to cooperate with Ministers in patching up the Hierarchy by a sham reform. The Dissenters have been instructed from head quarters not to pray for the dissolution of the union between Church and State, but to confine their supplications to practical grievances,' i. e. registration, marriage, and