ments of religion, we think it would have | tific parts were written by Mr Edgeworth. world will be determined by our conduct been greater. She has stretched forth a That it may not be inferred, that I require in the present. We do not say that it is powerful hand to the impotent in virtue; more than could be reasonably expected necessary to inspire into the minds of our and had she added, with the apostle, 'In the from the general design of the work, it is children a superstitious dread of the horname of Jesus of Nazareth,' we should al- necessary to say, that the authors profess rors of retributive justice, for we believe most have expected miracles from its to treat of every thing that is important to that mankind are every day becoming touch." children, as will appear from p. 311. more capable of acting from enlightened principles,—of seeing the reasons why virtue produces happiness, and vice, misery; and thus of maintaining a regard for the right, because it is right, instead of acting from fear of punishment or hope of reward. But we see little reason for expecting a period-and certainly none for saying it has arrived-when we may dispense with the sanctions, while we inculcate the law. The grand christian principle, that, in a future state of existenee, our destiny will be determined by our character, and that Respecting the importance of incorporating religion with morality, he adds the following remarks. The influence of this "extends to every order in society. It is not the fountain, which plays only in the garden of the palace, but the rain of heaven, which descends alike on the enclosures of the rich and the poor, and refreshes the meanest shrub no less than the fairest flower. The sages of antiquity seem to have believed that morality had nothing to do with religion; and Christians of the middle ages, that religion had nothing to do with morality. But at the present day, we acknowledge how intimate and important is their connexion. It is not views of moral fitness, by which the minds of men are at first to be affected, but by connecting their duties with the feelings and motives, the hopes and fears of Christianity. Both are necessary, the latter to prompt and invigorate virtue, the former to give it the beauty of knowledge and taste. It is heat, that causes the germ to spring and flourish in the heart; but it is light that imparts verdure to its foliage, and their hues to its flowers." If in any work we might expect a distinct recognition of the authority of revealed truth, surely none could have higher claims to it, than a treatise on Practical Education. Miss Edgeworth obviously saw that an apology would be required for the omission, and she has given the following in the preface. "On religion and politics we have been silent, because we have no ambition to gain partisans, or to make proselytes, and beIcause we do not address ourselves exclusively to any sect or to any party." Had this been given by any one but Miss Edgeworth, it would be regarded as too feeble and contemptible to deserve notice. Because it is not her object to make proselytes to any sectarian dogmas, is the very spirit any life of religion to be disregarded? Was it necessary to avoid every allusion to the Sacred Scriptures as containing the light of life, and to draw every motive for good conduct from merely temporary considerations? The essence of religion is common to all the children of God; and Christians of every denomination may be referred to the Bible as their spiritual directory, without regard to the peculiarities of their several views. What, but an indifference to religion itself, can prevent a teacher from doing this? Lest we make our children sectarians, shall we avoid giving them any religious principles? Lest the sanctions of religion should be misused to strengthen some error, or justify some bad feeling, shall we utterly forget or desecrate them? “Though we have been principally attentive to all the circumstances, which can be essential to the management of young people during the first nine or ten years of their lives, we have by no means confined our observations to this period alone; but we have endeavoured to lay before parents a general view of the human mind (as far as it relates to our subject), of proper methods of teaching, and of the objects of rational instruction." The plain question now is, whether they have performed this task with any reasonable degree of fidelity. By referring to a few chapters we shall find a satisfactory answer. The chapter on "Truth" affords a fair specimen of the moral character of the book. Its object is to show by what methods children may be made to acquire the habit of telling the truth. Most of the directions that are given, are worthy of attention. They may do much; but much will still remain to be done, unless we accompany our exertions with other modes and other principles, than are here described. The fact, that lying is forbidden by God, is not even alluded to; nor is it intimated that integrity is to be preferred to falsehood, because one is in itself virtuous and the other vicious. Indeed we do not find in the book the idea, that any actions are wicked in the common sense of the term. In general, those actions which are commonly denominated wicked, are disapproved; but they are not represented as opposed to the laws of God nor is their effect on the future state any where recognised. every one shall be rewarded according to his works," is absolutely essential to form our minds after the image and likeness of God. An external morality, however exact it may be, which has within it no soulno reference to God and eternity, cannot abide the judgment of Him, "who searcheth the heart;" and by teaching our chil dren to tell the truth because it is useful, without alluding to any other than temporal good, we are doing nothing for them, but to encourage them to live with devotion to the world-to seek its good things by the most effectual means, and to be prepared to die the death of brutes. In the chapter on Vanity, Pride, and Ambition, the first two are classed among virtues. They are, however, considered as vices, when they are excessive, and when excited by unworthy objects. I am well aware, that the terms vanity and pride can be so defined as to denote virtues; but in ordinary language, they signify vices. There has been so much contention on this subject among metaphysicians, that I must endeav our to clear away the mist they have raised, in order to make myself understood. That truth is to be preferred to falsehood, because it is more useful, might be a The desire of receiving the approbation competent reason, were we always compe- of others, may proceed from benevolence, tent and always disposed to judge rightly of or from self-love. For example; the artisan what is most useful. But the simple fact, may be gratified by the praises bestowed on that the Scriptures reveal sanctions to the his works because he knows them to be divine law, proves that our judgment of truly valuable, and loves to have others utility is not always to be trusted. There rightly estimate them. If this be the only can be no question, in the abstract, that cause of his pleasure, it would be equal, if integrity of character is more advantageous the works were the fruit of another's skill than duplicity and falsehood; but whoever and industry. He may be pleased with the has learned how prone his corrupt affec- commendation, because he perceives that tions are to blind his judgment,—how fre- the laudable objects of his pursuit are proquently he acts with reference only to the moted, such as the maintenance of his family. present, and how often the present allures In these cases, it is obvious that his pleasure him by deceptive appearances of utility, arises from the gratification of good affec and causes him to mistake the gratification tions; and no one has any question as to of evil concupiscences, for the essential the purity of such a love of approbation. and eternal good of his soul,-such an one, But the artisan may be gratified by the surely, needs not to be told, that in order praises bestowed on his labour and skill, to preserve the mind at all times within the because he considers them as distinguishpath of rectitude, it is necessary to impressing him above others, -as magnifying his it deeply with those truths, which teach us importance; and not from any regard to that there is an all-seeing eye, from whose the good of others. The desire of appro ken nothing is secret; that we are amena-bation, so far as it proceeds from these selfIt will be seen then that I impute to Miss ble for every thought, affection, word, and ish affections, is commonly regarded as evil; Edgeworth all the faults in the moral char- action to the judgment of an unerring tri- and it is what, in ordinary discourse, we deacter of this work. Only the more scien-bunal; and that our state in the future nominate vanity. There is little difference of opinion on this subject. Every unsophisticated mind views the expression of selfish desires for the approbation of others with displeasure; and conscience and common sense infallibly distinguish it as evil. Pride relates to the judgment we form of ourselves in comparison with others. The light by which we are blessed by Heaven, enables us to estimate our own qualities justly; but our self-love often opposes and perverts this light,-fills our minds with deceitful imaginations of our superiority over others, and makes us attach to our own qualities a value and dignity which they do not possess. It is because the qualities are ours, and not another's, that selflove thus exalts and deifies them. This false estimate of ourselves, proceeding from self-love, is what is commonly denominated pride. If your readers will excuse the digression, I will say, that what are commonly called passions, consist not merely of an affection of the mind, but they include the immediate expression of such affection. The expression may sometimes be deceitful, but the only way to determine the moral quality of a passion, is to analyze it, and ascertain what is the affection within it, and from which it proceeds. We may then describe it in synthetical order; and this is the order in which it must afterwards be viewed. Now, Miss Edgeworth and infidel writers do not analyze the passions thoroughly. The distinctions they make between good and evil are external; having reference rather to the immediate expression of an affection, and the ultimate result of actions, than to the affection itself. If it be asked, how we can distinguish good from evil, while viewing the very principles of passions, I answer, that it is by a faculty given by God to every man, and commonly called conscience. Whoever will learn any thing of metaphysics which will be practically useful, must acquire the habit of looking within himself, and tracing his passions to their principles, and of noticing the influence which his affections have upon his thoughts and decisions; and whoever will communicate metaphysical knowledge, should view his subject from its essence to the form, and not inversely. To return the meaning which I have given to the terins vanity and pride, is what I believe them to have in common language. When, therefore, Miss Edgeworth asks: "If we could give our pupils exactly the character we wish, what degrees of vanity and pride should we desire them to have?" the plain answer is, None at all. What she denominates vanity and pride, generally proceed from selfish principles, although they may proceed from something better; and she is answerable for the equivocal use of the terms. More reverence for the language of Scripture, and more regard for religion itself, would have made her avoid this confusion. "As to ambition," she remarks, "we must decide what species of ambition we mean, before we can determine whether it ought to be encouraged or repressed; whether it should be classed amongst vir- Nothing is gained by such quibbling about There are a few other passages in the work, of the same eharacter with those upon which I have last remarked; but, in general, the external form of its morals, like that of the other works of this author, is very pure, and not unfrequently distinguished by uncommon beauty. The defect is,-and it is not a small one, the moral principles want a soul. They recommend right actions; but the motives from which these are to proceed, are generally incompetent to produce them, and are always destitute of that vitality, that reference to God and futurity, which is necessary to make the actions good in any other than a worldly, selfish view. It is not a little surprising, that, with an education in a christian community, the language of Scripture and of christian writers should have made so little impression on her mind, that she could almost entirely divest herself of every thing that would lead the reader to infer that she had any knowledge of them. I see no reason for ascribing this to a love of any system, which she has formed to herself. There is nothing of the originality of a system-maker; and, indeed, there are few works which have less claims to original ideas. In this respect, it seems to me that Miss Edgeworth has been misjudged. She has a wonderful faculty of selecting the ideas of such writers as Voltaire, Rousseau, Helvetius, Darwin, Adam Smith, and Hume; and some affinity of soul with Franklin and Priestley. Most of her references are to infidel authors; and nearly all her metaphysical notions are derived from them. Whoever has had much acquaintance with these, can have no difficulty in tracing the origin of her principles. It must not, however, be inferred that she directly recommends the writings of these authors. Your readers may perhaps expect me to concede to Mr Edgeworth the merit of much originality in his chapters on the proper mode of teaching some of the sciences. I know not but he deserves it; but this I know, that nearly all the principles and modes of instruction which he has proposed, that have any claim to novelty, may be found in the works of Pestalozzi and his followers. They are unquestionably very important, and it is well for the world that they are beginning to be thought so. Miss Edgeworth's talent for arranging the ideas which she collects, and presenting them in a lucid and beautiful dress, is remarkably perfect; and the external charms of her moral principles combine to produce a very powerful effect on the mind of the reader. It may be asked, how these eminent qualities can be accounted for, without supposing that they proceed from a genuine love of purity and order. There is certainly no greater difficulty in accounting for these than for the beautiful writings of professed infidels. It is not unknown, that "the children of this world are, in their generation, wiser than the children of light." Their minds are less divided. Their thoughts and affections are limited to the present world; and it would be strange indeed, if they did not frequently become adepts in their sevIeral modes of life. Who can hoard money like a Jew, or adorn the natural passions like an infidel? It becomes those who live only for the present world, to make the best of it; and why should it surprise us, that they learn the arts of self-gratification, and can imitate the order and beauty which would result from bringing even heavenly principles into actual life. All that is necessary is consistency of character; and who was ever more consistent, assiduous, and faithful to any purpose, than Miss Edgeworth has been in endeavouring to make a life devoted solely to the present world, comfortable and respectable? S. ON THE COMMON SYSTEMS OF ENGLISH THERE is nothing in our common grammars which defines the true nature and use of the adjective. In some works we read of substantive nouns and adjective nouns. This is very well. What we denominate adjectives, are only a particular class of nouns, used in connexion with other nouns. Some of them are very frequently used indiscriminately as nouns or adjectives. Others suffer some change of form, when used as adjectives, in order to make them more readily distinguishable; but, in all cases, they should be regarded as a class of nouns, used to express the qualities of other nouns. When Mr Murray tells us, that "an adjective put without a substantive, with the definite article before it, becomes a substantive in sense and meaning, and is written as a substantive; as, Providence rewards the good, and punishes the bad;" in this case, we can only say, that he talks nonsense. It is proper to speak of substantives being used as adjectives, for this obvious means, that they are used to express the quality of other substantives; but we cannot with propriety say, that an adjective is used as a substantive, because there is no distinct class of words to which the term adjective properly Many of the words which we call prepositions are adjectives. Most of these express the quality or condition of one noun as it relates to another noun. The words above, under, over, near, and many others, are of this class. If I say, "A man of integrity is above doing a mean action;" the word "above" expresses the quality of the man in relation to doing a mean action; he is above it. A thousand examples might be multiplied, with this and other prepositions, to show that they really retain the nature of adjectives. Like billow with his crest of foam, Right onward did Clan Alpine come. applies. Even those adjective nouns which, the Album, and, under the guidance of a ponds, which, for any thing that I could ever are used only as such, always imply an idea Mc Farlane, set forward for the Trosachs. learn, would compete in point of difficulties of a substantive noun, and merely express The variations in the aspect of the sky are with any Loch in Scotland. But I contentthat idea under some peculiar modification. among the most remarkable circumstances ed myself with pitying the narrowness of Besides, the principle given above from that I have had occasion to remark since I their understandings; and saved my breath Mr Murray, does not involve all the cases left Glasgow. The beauty of the morning for better occasions. We landed at the little in which even the terms "good" and "bad" equals that of an October day in New Eng-creek where Ellen's shallop was moored, are used as substantive nouns. When we land; while the aspect of the afternoon bears this being the only place where one can say, "This journey did him much good," we a striking resemblance to that of one of our conveniently do so. Just by it juts out an use the term good without the definite arti- south-easterly storms. In the course of our old rugged oak, the former shelter of "Duncle, but still as a substantive noun. The walk, which was over hills, and through craggan's widowed dame." From the height term "bad" cannot be thus used; but its bogs, I had many occasions for congratulat- of the island, we had a fine view; behind us substitutes, evil and ill, are frequently used ing myself, that I had relinquished my at- was Coir-nan-Uriskin, the Goblin's cave; in this manner. tempt the preceding evening. We reached before us, the place where Fitz-James first the change house of Stewart of Alpine (a came in sight of the lake and island. Farpaltry place, by the way) in very good time ther up was the point of interview, where for breakfast; after the discussion of which Roderick discovered himself to Fitz-James, important concern, we proceeded through &c. &c. I detail these matters to you as Í the Trosach to Loch Katrine. The Tro- received them from our guide, who, as the sach is a pass between the mountains, which manner is with these people through the surround the lake, and bears a great resem- whole British empire, at least so far as my blance to the Gulf in the Green Mountains information or experience goes, had drilled of Vermont; the likeness is a miniature one, himself to the repetition of a sort of parrot to be sure, but perhaps is more beautiful story, talked of Fitz-James and Ellen, and from that circumstance. Through this pass, quoted Scott, without attaching any very distinct idea either to the names or the poetry. This island has, in more modern We deem these last remarks important, We passed through it, at a moderate pace, for whiskey-distillers and smugglers. After and less romantic days, served as a retreat as they may lead the scholar to a just view and over a very good road, and at its termi-a reasonable time spent in surveying the of the nature of many terms which are com- nation found ourselves on the shore of the prospect, I was set ashore by my Manchesmonly parsed without any analysis of their meaning. But our particular object was to Loch. Here we were surrounded with old ter friends, on the beach opposite the landprepare the way for explaining how those acquaintance; Ben-An, Ben-Voirlich, Ben- ing. We exchanged addresses, and parted, tormentors of grammarians, like, worth, and Venue, and Ben-Ledi, the whole tribe of I flatter myself, with mutual regret. They as, should be parsed. The first and second of Benjamin, as somebody calls them, reared proceeded up the lake towards Tarbet, and their shingly cliffs and craggy summits left me to pursue my route for Callander. these not only express the quality of nouns around us. in relation to other nouns, but they express Having heard the guide observe, that the something of the abstract, essential quality road by which we came through the Troof nouns; and this circumstance has made sachs was not the ancient one, I inquired them so puzzling. When we say, "The into the matter, and was informed, that the horse is worth ten dollars," the term worth old path was circuitous and mountainous, conveys some idea of the essential quality We embarked for Roderick's island in a impassable by any wheel-carriage, but it of the horse, and also its quality relative skiff, which was as like that of Ellen Doug- might, he added, be passable by foot pasto, or compared with, ten dollars. Again: las' as a bum-boat is like a captain's gig. sengers. Upon the faith of this "might "He looks like a prince;" "Glass is like Really these boats are horrid to romantic be," and with the temptation which the ice." In these and similar cases, it is ob-eyes; I gave the boatmen my poor thoughts idea of a difficult path holds out to a pedesvious, that the term like is to be parsed as respecting the matter, suggesting the pro- trian in search of adventures, and armed at an adjective and a preposition, and is to priety of a clean clinker built cutter, with all points against the elements, I undertook be explained in the manner we have been a light oar for sculling, in the place of the it, and found it sufficient to satisfy the exstating. The term as, when used in sen- anomalous machine, which they had the mis- pectations of any adventurer, whose ambitences like the following: "I esteem him fortune to propel among scenes with which tion does not go the length of perilling life as a friend," really expresses the quality of it was so little in keeping; but "oh! cæca or limb. I waded through mosses and bogs, "him," by placing "him" and "friend" in mens hominum!" they had the impudence to fought through heather and fern, and hopped apposition. It is frequently used somewhat insinuate in return for my endeavours to re- from stone to stone, down the course of differently; but it always, I believe, places fine their ideas, that I knew nothing about brooks. That Fitz-James should have lost two words of some class in apposition, or on lake navigation. By the trident of Neptune his "gallant gray" in such a place, was and the scallop-shell coach of his wife, my matter of no surprise to me, as I passed the dear friends, I was struck dumb. A Yankee spot where I suppose the event to have hapnot understand navigation, whether it be of pened. No horse of these degenerate days ocean, bay, creek, river, lake, or mill-pond. could have got there at all. About this Truly I had half a mind to explain to the time the usual rain-storm began to threaten, Highland savages the extent of their igno- but did not cominence till I had reached rance and presumption, by giving them to terra firma again, and very fortunately for know that the natives of New England, from me, as I could ill have spared a hand to hold the first-born of them, who saw the light on an open umbrella, inasmuch as all four exboard the May-flower, two hundred years tremities generally found full employment ago, down to the urchins who fish for tom-in these "haunts of the gor-cock and the cod in Boston harbor, have an instinctive deer." The stillness which reigns in these admiration and delight in, and a very tolera-Highland deserts is very remarkable. In ble insight into, the mysteries of all watercraft, of whatever name or nature; and that I, even I myself, simple as I stood there, had rowed, sailed, and sculled, and paddled in an equality, more or less exact. The scholar should point out what words it thus qualifies, and he may call it what he pleases, as reasons for terming it an adjective, a pronoun, an adverb, a preposition, and a conjunction, are pretty nearly equal. LETTERS FROM A TRAVELLER. Edinburgh, September 28. MY DEAR FRIENDS, Poetic scenes encompassed us around, And still we seemed to tread on classic ground; the wildest and most barren places in New England, at least so far as my knowledge ex ends, one always hears some sound; even in the calmest weather, the trees and bushes From shingles gray the lances start, make a slight murmur, or some animal or the inn were not of the first order, but after | miles, was very beautiful, but I recollect no bird rustles among the dry leaves; but here walking five and twenty miles, one is not object of any great importance. Here I the silence is frequently deathlike, the ferns apt to be critical about such matters. Just crossed the Carron river, and after two and heaths are too low to be affected by a beyond the village are the ruins of Doune miles more, passed under the grand canal, light wind, and there are very few trees, castle, which is not now in quite so good which connects the Forth and Clyde, and and those small and stunted. This produces repair as it was when king James sallied entered Falkirk early in the afternoon; something of the same effect on the mind as from it on the morning of the "chase." It this is a very antique looking town, but unthe stillness of night; the excitability of the affords at present a residence for beings of fortunately I was precluded by certain consense of hearing, to speak after the manner a more aerial nature, not ghosts or sprites, sequences of a new pair of shoes, from goof the Brunonians, is accumulated; the sound at least as far as I know, but crows, a sort ing about it, or proceeding farther on my of one's own footsteps, the rattling of a stone, of gentry, who, with a taste like that of walk, which was the more troublesome, as which you have accidentally displaced and Sultan Mahmoud's owls, have appropriated this proved to be the first day since I left rolled down a declivity, or any noise, how-to themselves the ruined towers and clois- Glasgow, which was throughout clear and ever slight, strikes it unpleasantly. One ters in this country, wherever they could serene. The following morning, as if to walks or stands, in such circumstances, "ar- find them; they are termed rooks here, and make up for so much extra fair weather, rectis auribus," and with a sort of feeling of I beg their pardon and yours, for calling was as dull, misty, and muggy as one would expectation that something is about to come them by such an every day appellation as wish to see; and as my walking gear was still of all this. I almost looked to see that of crow; but notwithstanding all my out of order, I had the alternative of taking endeavours at the romantic and poetical, the coach for the remaining distance to Edthe original sin of giving things their right inburgh, or spending the day in a gloomy names will now and then get the ascendan- inn, which last being little less than a chalcy. From the castle I took my departure, lenge to the blue devils, was rather too great with Waverley and Balmawhapple, for Stir- a hazard; and I departed accordingly. Eight ling, a distance of nine miles. It is almost miles from Falkirk, we passed through Linunnecessary to mention that the morning lith-gow, where is the cathedral in which was beautiful; about four miles from Doune the apparition appeared to king James, beI crossed the Teath, by the bridge of Allan, fore the battle of Flodden, and reached Auld and soon came in sight of the object of my Reekie about one o'clock. Notwithstanding destination, which, from its elevated situa- the disadvantage of a stormy day, I was at tion, is visible for some distance. As I drew once fully satisfied that this was the most near, I enjoyed the view of one of the most beautiful city I had ever seen, and I have had beautiful scenes in Scotland. The road is no reason since to alter that opinion. We considerably above the level of the carse, or, entered it by the way of Prince's street, and as we should call it, intervale, and one can as the coach was driven along this magnifisee its whole extent, with the Forth, which cent avenue, the crowds of human creatures we left at Aberfoyle, now swelled to a re- which thronged it, reminded me of the workspectable size, winding through it. This ing and fighting pismires of Africa, traversing carse is a process, if I may be allowed to the galleries of their wonderful structures. be professional, of the lowlands, extending The coach on which I was perched seemed like a wedge, between the hills on each like a baby-house toy, drawn by a team of side, and from about the middle of it the little atomies; and when I was set down at eminence on which Stirling is built, arises last with my bundle and umbrella, in my gradually, and terminates in a precipitous travelling dress, without a single acquaintbluff, something like a headland which has ance, or letter of introduction,-for I had been worn by the waves; on the brow of left them with my baggage at Glasgow,-I this stands the castle, while the town is on felt in its full force the "solitude of a crowd," the acclivity, which leads to it. It was on and with Will Marvel, I cannot deny, this carse that Mr Jinker's steeds had occa- that I did for some time suffer melancholy sion to show their mettle, when their com- to prevail upon me, and wish myself safe at mander, like another British leader, on a home." Luckily I happened to have that in later occasion, and in a scene nearer home, my pockets which the people were disposed to recognise as an acquaintance, and which And spirited the troops to-run. introduced me to very tolerable acmmodaCrossing the Forth by a stone bridge, I en- tions. Still I was alone, and unwilling, on tered Stirling. The town presented noth- account of the appearance of my external ing remarkable; it looked pleasant enough man, to perambulate the streets of a city; in the sunshine. If I had had a companion, I so that I had every prospect of spending the should have staid some time here, examined time between my own arrival and that of the fortress, &c., and I dare say, it will seem my baggage, in a manner which none of strange to you that I did not; but if any you will envy. My first step, in these cirone of you should ever happen to walk two or cumstances, was to despatch a requisition three days in succession, through a strange for the aforesaid baggage, the second, only country alone, you will wonder less; one's one of you will probably be able to conjecenthusiasm is very apt to cool, unless he has ture, -T alone will know it by intuition. some friend to participate in his pleasures The only alternative in such cases, as he is and troubles; certainly my zeal for moun- well aware, is the Circulating Library; an tains, floods, and antiquities, was on the invention which takes rank with that of the wane; so I remained here but a few hours, steam-engine or the printing press; thither and then set forward for Falkirk, about a I repaired, and arming myself with Scott's mile from Stirling passed the ruins of Cam- last novel, set the azure demons at defiance. bus-Kenneth Abbey, and one and a half I have thus given you an account of my further crossed Bannock-burn, near the field journey from Glasgow, and you will perhaps of battle. The country, for the next six | think that I have made the most of it; and But nothing was to be seen more lively than "brackens green and cold gray stone," and without further adventure, I arrived again in safety at Stewart's. Here I saw, for the first time in my life, a British nobleman; not a sprig of Scotch quality, but a real English marquiss, with a travelling tutor; by which sight, as you may well imagine, my plebeian eyes were wonderfully refreshed. From Stewart's I marched stoutly along the banks of Lochs Achray and Vennachar, two beautiful sheets of water; passed Lanrick mead, the Brigg of Turk and Glenfinlass, and about three o'clock, reached Coilantogle ford, which is now crossed by means of a stone-bridge; just beyond is Callander, where, being "far past Clan Alpine's utmost guard," I paused for a while, to recover a little from the effects of the rain, which had accompanied me during the latter part of the way. This was the first vil lage I had seen since I left Leven; it is quite a considerable one for the situation, and contains a thousand inhabitants. Here I entered again upon the Low Country, and directed my course towards Doune, which was distant eight miles. The evening soon became so dark and misty, that little of the country could be seen. About four miles from Callander, I overtook another pedestrian, and walked along with him the remainder of the way. He was a native of Stirling, and spoke the abominable patois of that shire. He afforded me much amusement by his abuse of the Highlands, where, he informed me, he had sometimes been, and where the people could jabber nothing but Gaelic, and eat barley-bannocks without a grain of white-bread, meaning thereby oatcakes,-which are about equal in quality and flavour to our Indian hoe-cakes. Just before entering Doune, we passed the seat of Sir John Murray, the present chief of the Mc Gregor clan. You may perhaps recollect to have seen in a child's book, called the Chapter of Accidents, the picture and account of a tiger rushing upon Monro, and wounding him mortally. This Sir John Murray, as my companion informed me, was then present, and slew the tiger, whose head now hangs in his hall. We reached Doune about seven o'clock, in a dark and drizzly evening. The accommodations of so bravely led them on, 286 like Marvel again, have endeavoured to make a story of what, if told in proper terms, would be only that the roads were sometimes rough and sometimes dirty, and that the weather "presented the usual vicissitude of rain and sunshine." Farewell. POETRY. THE MURDERED TRAVELLER. The fragrant birch, above him, hung The red-bird warbled, as he wrought But there was weeping far away, They little knew, who loved him so, Nor how, when round the frosty pole Nor how, when strangers found his bones, But long they looked, and feared, and wept, And dreamed, and started as they slept, So long they looked-but never spied Nor knew the fearful death he died B. THE LUNATIC GIRL. Most beautiful, most gentle! Yet how lost leaves. 'Tis said that some have died of love, and some, The aspiring lark up from the reedy river That bent beneath its footsteps, the loud wind which have given rise to this undue degree I turned away: a multitude of thoughts, INTELLIGENCE. H. W. L. PHILOSOPHY OF APPARITIONS. A popular and very interesting work has been lately published by Dr Hibbert, entitled "Sketches of the Philosophy of Apparitions." The general plan of the work may be best described in the words of the author himself. "In the first place," he observes, "a general view is given of the particular morbid affections, with which the production of phantasms is often connected. Apparitions are likewise considered as nothing more than ideas, or the recollected images of the mind, which have been rendered more vivid than actual impressions." In a second part of this work he says, "My object has been to point out, that in well authenticated ghost-stories, of a supposed supernatural character, the ideas which are rendered so unduly intense as to induce spectral illusions, may be traced to such fantastical objects of prior belief as are incorporated in the various systems of superstition, which for ages have possessed the minds of the vulgar." In the succeeding, and by far the most considerable part of this treatise, the research is of a novel kind. Since apparitions are ideas equalling or exceeding in vividness actual impressions, there ought to be some important and definite laws of the mind they are calculated, more than almost any other class of mental phenomena, to throw considerable light upon certain important laws connected with the physiology of the human mind." OCCASIONAL ABUNDANCE AND SUPPOSED MI- Feld-mice appeared in extraordinary numbers in Morvern (Scotland) about the year 1809 or 1810. They were first observed in the month of August, and disappeared during the ensuing winter. They were most numerous in the north, on Loch Sunart side of Morvern, where the country is wildest and most rugged, and where there is least arable land. On the coast of the sound of Mull, their numbers were comparatively trifling. They also infested the districts of Sunart, Arduamurchan, Moidart, Arisaig, and Ardgour. In Morvern, during the months of August and September, any spot of fine pasture in the hills was cut in roads, close to the ground. The grass, cut by the root, lay withered. Bushes were also cut by the root in the same way, and the white interior substance gathered into heaps for nests. About the end of October and beginning of November, in woods and low grounds preserved for winter grazing, the grass was found cut the same way as in the hills. The bark of young wood was frequently gnawed off, and the ground perforated to such a degree, in making their subterraneous residences, that it often yielded to the foot in walking. These subterraneous residences, |