age, a difference amounting, between the eldest and youngest, to more than forty years, gave him unusual opportunities of making experiments in education, and watching their results. His family were brought up almost entirely at home, and with the greatest parental care. He was fond of mechanical pursuits, and new projects of all kinds. Among his numerous schemes was an attempt to educate his eldest son on the plan laid down in Rousseau's Emile. He dressed him in jacket and trousers, with arms and legs bare, and allowed him to run about wherever he pleased, and to do nothing but what was agreeable to himself. In a few years he found that the scheme had succeeded completely, so far as related to the body the youth's health, strength, and agility were conspicuous; but the state of his mind induced some perplexity. He had all the virtues that are found in the hut of the savage; he was quick, fearless, generous: but he knew not what it was to obey. It was impossible to induce him to do anything that he did not please, or prevent him from doing anything that he did please. Under the former head, learning, even of the lowest description, was never included. In fine, this child of nature grew up perfectly ungovernable, and never could or would apply to anything; so that there remained no alternative but to allow him to follow his own inclination of going to sea! This experience is detailed in Practical Education, a work written principally by Miss Edgeworth, but partly by her father: it is a valuable result for those engaged in domestic teaching. Mr. Edgeworth and his family, at Edgeworth-town, Longford, were involved in the troubles of the Irish Rebellion, in 1758, and were obliged to make a precipitate retreat from their house, and leave it in the hands of the rebels; but it was spared from being pillaged, through one of the invaders, to whom Mr. Edgeworth had previously done some service. The return of the family home, when the troubles were over, is thus described by Miss Edgeworth :

"When we came near Edgeworth-town, we saw many wellknown faces at the cabin-doors, looking out to welcome us. One man, who was digging in his field by the roadside, when he looked up as our horses passed, and saw my father, let fall his spade, and clasped his hands; his face, as the morning sun shone upon it, was the strongest picture of joy I ever The village was a melancholy spectacle; windows

saw.

shattered and doors broken. But though the mischief done was great, there had been little pillage. Within our gates, we found all property safe: literally, 'not a twig touched, nor a leaf harmed.' Within the house, everything was as we had left it. A map that we had been consulting was still open on the library-table, with pencils and slips of paper, containing the first lessons in arithmetic in which some of the young people (Mr. Edgeworth's children by his second. and third wife) had been engaged the morning we had been driven from home: a pansy, in a glass of water, which one of the children had been copying, was still on the chimneypiece. These trivial circumstances, marking repose and tranquillity, struck us at this moment with an unreasonable sort of surprise, and all that had passed seemed like an incoherent dream."

A FEMALE ADMINISTRATION.

Mrs. Piozzi, in one of her Letters, relates the following Johnsonian pleasantry :-While there was much talk about the town concerning mal-administrations, some of the Streatham coterie, in a quibbling humour, professed themselves weary of Male-administration, as they pronounced it emphatically, and proposing a Fe-male one, called on Dr. Johnson to arrange it."Well then," said he, "we will haveCarter for Archbishop of Canterbury. Montague-First Lord of the Treasury. Hon. Sophia Byron-Head of the Admiralty. Herald's Office-under care of Miss Owen. Manager of the House of Commons-Mrs. Crewe.

Mrs. Wedderburne-Lord Chancellor.

Mrs. Wallace Attorney General.

Preceptor to the Princes-Mrs. Chapone.

Poet Laureate-Hannah More."

"And no place for me, Dr. Johnson ?" cried Mrs. Piozzi. "No, no! you will get into Parliament by your little silver tongue, and then rise by your own merit.' "And what shall I do?" exclaimed Fanny Burney.-"Oh, we will send you out for a spy, and perhaps you will get hanged! Ha, ha, ha!"-with a loud laugh.

A HORRID BLUE-STOCKING.

Miss Edgeworth justly considered the defence of the Edinburgh wit to be complete when he gave utterance to the lively and happy observation, "I do not care about the blueness of a lady's stockings if her petticoats are only long enough." It is the ostentation of knowledge, and not the knowledge itself which disgusts, and is doubly offensive when female aspirants are voluble upon subjects of which they understand little except perhaps the jargon. Pretension is repulsive where we look for reserve, and the woman purchases knowledge too dearly who exchanges for it the attributes which are the charm of her sex. Her native virtues are of more value than acquired learning. The Marchioness du Châtelet, who translated and annotated Newton's Principia, was one of these pedantic ladies who studied science that it might minister to vanity; and Madame de Stael, the bedchamber-woman of the Duchess de Maine, well known by her lively memoirs, has handed down some traits of her character, which should scare away imitators, as the drunken slave scared Spartans from intoxication. She arrived on a visit at midnight the day before she had settled to come, occupied the bed of another lady, who was hastily displaced, complained of her accommodation, and tried a fresh room on the following night; and, still dissatisfied, inspected the whole of the house to be sure of securing the best apartment it contained. Thither she ordered to be carried half the furniture of the place, chose not to appear till ten o'clock at night, when she made her company less agreeable than her absence, by her arrogance and dictation; could endure no noise, lest her ideas should be disarranged; and, some ink being spilt upon a piece of her translation, raised more disturbance than Newton did himself when his store of invaluable manuscripts were burnt. She complained that she found in her bedroom smoke without fire; and, methinks, says Madame de Stael, it was the emblem of herself. She expected to excite homage, and provoked contempt. Her knowledge was doubted, her airs ridiculed, and she was not more hated than she was thoroughly despised. -Quarterly Review.

ON A POETESS WHO SQUINTED.

To no one muse does she her glance confine,
But has an eye, at once, to all the nine.-T. Moore.

QUID PRO QUO.

Walpole relates that after Pope had written some bitter verses on Lady M. W. Montagu, he told a friend of his that he should soon have ample revenge upon her, for that he had set her down in black and white, and should soon publish what he had written. "Be so good as to tell the little gentleman," was the reply, "that I am not at all afraid of him; for if he sets me down in black and white, as he calls it, most assuredly I will have him set down in black and blue."

ROUSSEAU AND GARRICK.

When Rousseau was in England, Garrick paid him the compliment of playing two characters on purpose to oblige him they were Lusignan and Lord Chalkstone, and as it was well-known that Rousseau was to be present, the theatre was crowded to excess. Rousseau was highly gratified; but Mrs. Garrick complained that she never passed a more uncomfortable evening in her life, for the recluse philosopher was so very anxious to display himself, and hung so forward over the front of the box, that she was obliged to hold him by the skirt of his coat that he might not fall over into the pit.

LAUGHTER.

66

It was once remarked to Lord Chesterfield, that man is the only creature endowed with the power of laughter. True," said the Peer, "and you may add, perhaps, that he is the only creature that deserves to be laughed at.'

THE WITTINAGEMOT, AT THE CHAPTER COFFEE-HOUSE.

This noted resort of men of letters in the last century was situated at the corner of Canon-alley, on the south side of Paternoster-row; it was noted for its punch, pamphlets, and good supply of newspapers, and the upper portion of the house was a well-frequented hotel. It was closed as a coffee-house in 1854, and then altered to a general tavern.

The Chapter was, to the last, frequented by authors and publishers; but its celebrity lay in the last century. It is mentioned in No. 1 of the Connoisseur, Jan. 31, 1754, as the

resort of those encouragers of literature, and not the worst judges of merit, the booksellers, and is often referred to in the Correspondence of Chatterton. Forster relates an anecdote of Oliver Goldsmith being paymaster at the Chapter, for Churchill's friend, Lloyd, who, in his careless way, without a shilling to pay for the entertainment, had invited him to sup with some friends of Grub-street.

Alexander Stephens, editor of the Annual Biography and Obituary, who died in 1824, left among his papers, printed in the Monthly Magazine, as "Stephensiana," his recollections of the Chapter, which he frequented from 1797 to 1805, where, he tells us, he always met with intelligent company. We give his reminiscences, almost in his own words.

The Box in the N.E. corner used to be called the Wittinagemot. Early in the morning it was occupied by neighbours, who were designated the Wet Paper Club, as it was their practice to open the papers when brought in by the newsmen, and read them before they were dried by the waiter; a dry paper they viewed as a stale commodity. In the afternoon, another party enjoyed the wet evening papers; and (says Stephens) it was these whom I met.

Dr. Buchan, author of Domestic Medicine, generally held a seat in this box; and though he was a Tory, he heard the freest discussion with good humour, and commonly acted as a moderator. His fine physiognomy, and his white hairs, qualified him for this office. But the fixture in the box was a Mr. Hammond, a Coventry manufacturer, who, evening after evening, for nearly 45 years, was always to be found in his place, and during the entire period was much distinguished for his severe and often able strictures on the events of the day. He had thus debated through the days of Wilkes, of the American war, and of the French war, and being on the side of liberty, was constantly in opposition. His mode of arguing was Socratic, and he generally applied to his adversary the reductio ad absurdum, creating bursts of laughter.

The registrar or chronicler of the box was a Mr. Murray, an episcopal Scotch minister, who generally sat in one place from 9 in the morning till 9 at night, and was famous for having read, at least once through, every morning and evening paper published in London during the last thirty years. His memory being good, he was appealed to whenever any point