with the duties of religion, it is fitter for the purpose than one which, having equally the two former qualifications, is deficient in the latter. These considerations point out the Gothic architecture, as preferable to every other, for the churches of our own country."

These remarks are more fanciful than solid, because they are more allied to prejudice than to reason. Cannot the whitened walls of a hut-like Welsh church be as subservient to the excitation of pious feelings as the interior of the most magnificent cathedral?

In comparing the public buildings of the French with others, Mr. Wood takes notice of the fondness of that nation for a multiplicity of ornaments.

He seems

to be delighted with this taste, even while he censures it.-"I must not quit the cathedral of Chartres, without mentioning the beautiful shrine-work which surrounds the choir. It consists of fortyfive compartments, forming a sort of continued gallery, and contains about two hundred and fifty figures, each three feet high. It is a very curious specimen, both for the extreme delicacy of the workmanship, and as a model of the last period of Gothic architecture in France. It is complete point-lace in stone, and some of the threads are not thicker than the blade of a pen-knife. The style is rich and beautiful; but, as a whole, it wants simplicity, and is inferior in design to the architecture of King's-College Chapel at Cambridge, and perhaps even to Henry the Seventh's Chapel at Westminster; but the extreme intricacy of the multiplied ornaments in the lastmentioned building, does not please me. In the work at Chartres, the disposition of the masses is much more simple and intelligible, but the tracery and detail of the ornaments are even more confused."

He prefers, in some respects, the modern Italian style." The Gothic artists aspired to a form more acutely triangular than those of the Italian architects. Each disposition has its beauties; the Gothic arrangement conveys the idea of power by the appearance of height; the ancient Roman by that of extent. The modern Italians have attempted the union of the two. The obtuse triangle gives more the impression of strength and durability, and has also the advantage of producing a building, of which a much greater proportion can be applied to internal use and effect."

VOL. X.

The Man of Two Lives. 2 vols.— Those who have enjoyed comfort and happiness in one life are induced to wish for a second; but, for the gratification of this propensity, we must wait for the commencement of that more refined state of being which we are taught to expect. We cannot, as Pythagoras pretended, pass from one soul to another in the course of ordinary life. The doctrine of that philosopher has, for a series of ages, attracted the imaginations of poets and romancers, and been variously and fancifully illustrated. The volumes before us contain another, and, we think, the most beautiful of all the illustrations bestowed on the strange theory. The sage himself, the better to support his system, professed to have a clear recollection of the different persons whose bodies his soul had successively inhabited. He remembered that he had formerly been a son of Mercury; that, afterwards, he was Euphorbus, who fought in the Greek army during the Trojan war; that he then became Hermotimus; and that his last change, previous to his teaching philosophy as Pythagoras, was into the humble frame of a fisherman.

The hero of this romance retains a full consciousness after his transmigration, so that he is enabled to come into contact with the persons with whom he had mingled, and whose destinies he had influenced in his former body; and hence (says a critic) "many scenes occur which are highly curious in themselves, and which have no resemblance to any thing hitherto extant in the circle of romance. The man who is supposed to be gifted with this mysterious knowlege of a former human life, is presented to us as Edward Sydenham, an Englishman of the present day; and the person whose frame he had previously animated, and whose misdeeds he feels himself called upon by a superior power to expiate, was Frederic Werner, who died at the early age of forty-five, at Francfort. The first dim, perplexing, confused, but ever-strengthening perceptions of a former life, which Sydenham feels during his infancy-his familiarity with foreign objects and places which, as Sydenham, he never could have seen, and the irresistible motive which impels him toward Germany, are detailed with singular effect and much eloquence; and the reader, as he pursues the thread of this marvellous history, seems to be deluded for a while into a belief of the truth of its incidents. We cannot follow

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the hero through all his adventures; but, while we cannot refrain from praising the style as being at once of a very earnest and finished character, we are bound to say that we think the personages in the tale want variety; that the imperturbable sang-froid with which they regard the very wonderful affair that is transacted before their eyes, is not the least of the marvels of the book; that the so-called vicious characters, are, according to our inferior casuistry, almost models of virtue; and that the sins of Werner, for the expiation of which so miraculous a scheme is ordained, appear to us to be little more than the peccadilloes of youth. In spite, however, of these imperfections, this work is the most curious in design of all the fictions of the day."

and

Longhollow, a Tale, by Mrs. Bryan Bedingfield. 3 vols.-This story bears the marks of nature and probability. The writer does not belong to that class whose works delineate manners fashion, which, however piquant such subjects may be, are, in their very nature, of temporary interest; but she makes her appeal to the more enduring sympathies of the heart. Her scenes are in the country, of which she gives some charming descriptions; and her actors are characterised by sympathies and impulses common to our nature. The prevailing character of the tale is pathos; but the authoress has evinced some degree of humor in the delineation of her rustics, whose humble loves, jealousies, and resentments, serve to excite mirth.

Yesterday in Ireland. 3 vols.-We here find two tales, both of which are filled with natural characters and probable incidents. One, which is entitled Corramahon, relates to the time of queen Anne, and the subject is mainly connected with religious differences, the painful effects of which have seldom been more ably illustrated.

The second story is of a still more interesting character, chiefly from the comparatively recent epoch of the tale. The hero has imbibed the new-fangled French doctrines, and figures in the rebellion of 1798. The plot is of a most exciting nature, and is concluded, as we might expect, by a melancholy event.

Tales of Military Life. 3 vols.-The two stories which compose this work are animated and amusing. Vandeleur is more attractive than the other tale; and one strong recommendation of it is the dexterity with which the denouement is

kept from the possibility of anticipation on the part of the reader. The principal scene of this striking narration is in Ireland, and the incidents are connected with those stirring times in which the unfortunate Emmet bore so conspicuous a part. The prison mysteries, the riots of the insurgents in Dublin, the strange history of the hero, and the extraordinary nature of the characters, irresistibly fix the attention; and, while the military incidents are rendered prominent, the political and romantic features assist in the general attraction and effect.

Personal Narrative of a Journey overland from the Bank to Barnes.-This is a burlesque on the pompous frivolity of some of our tourists. Two short quotations will sufficiently exemplify the author's humorous manner. At the beginning of the journey (he says)—“ I considered myself fortunate in having seated next to me in the coach an interesting female, with a beauteous little child. A pensive shade of melancholy tinted the countenance of the interesting female: she was eating cherries-and a sigh would sometimes accompany the stones which fell from her lips. She, with the most winning grace, offered me some: I declined, on the score of their being black-hearts! 'Oh,' sighed she,

you men have black hearts of your own.' I could resist no longer, but earnestly entreated her to give me her history. What wrongs, thought I, have driven this lovely lone one to apostrophise thus! My strain of sentiment was broken by the fair stranger informing me that she was an only daughter; that her parents lived in Ham-yard; her father was a bootclicker, and her mother washed for lady Harley," &c.

In a picture-gallery he notices "No. 30, Dick Turpin (in distemper), No. 47, John Baptist's Head on a Charger; esteemed a most curious pieture, on account of the architectural research displayed in the style of building and furniture of the Herodian tetrarchy. The charger is magnificently caparisoned, the saddle and holsters being formed of tapestry, illustrative of the final siege of Jerusalem by Titus."

German Poetical Anthology, selected by A. Bernays.-This pleasing little work is preceded by an historical sketch of German poetry, and short notices of the authors enumerated, among whom are names scarcely known in England.German poetry may be divided into

three æras. One was from 1154 to the end of the thirteenth century. Of this period many compositions still exist, as the Niebelungen and the book of Heroes. Then come the Minnesingers or Min strels, the Meister-singers, &c. The last æra, it appears, commenced with Martin Opitz, who died in 1639. He was a Silesian; hence his school is called the First Silesian. Paul Fleming, who died in 1640, A. Gryphius, and others, belonged to this school. The chiefs of the second Silesian school were Hoffmanswalden and Loherstein. There was next the Lower Saxon school; its distin

guished writers were Canitz, Brockes, Gunther, and Hagedorn. In this way Mr. Bernays follows up his account of the poetical schools of his country to the present time. Some of his selections are beautiful; and every amateur of German poetry will, we think, be highly pleased with the volume.

The Abuse of Study, and other Poems. -Some of these pieces display marks of talent; and we scarcely observe one that is destitute of some degree of merit. The following piece is selected because it is applicable to the season.

;

FEMALE INFLUENCE, OR THE TRIP OF

AN IRISH FAMILY TO A WATERING

PLACE, from the Legends of the Lakes.

ONE morning in the fine month of June (said an Irishman to his friend) my wife thus atdressed me. "I think, my dear, a little excursion to the Spa of Tralee would do the children a great deal of good. They could bathe in the salt water, you know, and run about the strand, inhaling the fresh breeze from the ocean. Now, besides that this was said with one of her most winning smiles, I knew perfectly well there was no use in arguing with a woman, when once she had taken a thing positively into her head. So it is, and so it must be-all the arguments in the world would not persuade her to the contrary. I leave

it to wiser heads than mine to determine why it is so; but, for my own part, I have always looked upon the ladies as having less of reason, and more of fancy and feeling, than the rough-hewn mortals of the masculine gender. If, therefore, you can tickle their fancies or awaken their feelings, the thing is done at once; but, if you cannot do this, and will not grant what they look for, you have nothing for it but an absolute No. Now, every one must know there are more Noes than one in the language. For instance, there is the No affirmative, that is, when No is uttered in such a manner as to be equal to two negatives, which are equal to one affirmative. Then there is the No equivocal, which leaves you in doubt whether it be intended for no or yes. And last of all comes the No abso

lute, which I take to be the most villainous, castle-breaking, heart-galling, downknocking, up-blowing, hard-hearted, monosyllable in the English language, and am therefore very much averse to making use of it. To be sure I did think we were just as well at home, and that it would be quite as well to save our cash as to go and sport it in Tralee; and I was, therefore, on the point of rapping out an absolute No, when, in addition to my repugnance to make use of so ungracious a monosyllable, my wife's very winning smile charged me so forcibly, that, gulping down the No absolute, I only made use of the No equivocal.

When a man begins to give way to a woman, he may as well give up at once; she's sure to conquer; and thus it happened that my No equivocal was construed into an affirmative.-Crack! crack! went the whip" the car's at the door, your honor." Now all was bustle and confusion-Mary calling for Joan-Joan for Mary-my wife calling for both-the children all the time squeaking like so many guinea-pigs. The box of finery was placed on the car, as also the featherbed, covered with a neat Tameen quilt, wife, maid, and children, all tumbling on the top of it. "Thank Heaven!" said I, "all is right at last.-Oh, no! the large bandbox with my wife's best bonnet cannot be left behind, what should she do at Tralee without her best bonnet !-here it comes!" Crack, crack! went the whip; creak, creak! squeaked the wheels, and at last away they rolled.

** A dread of this influence is, we believe, a great check to matrimony. We know a friend who has remained a bachelor solely on that account. Such a cousideration, however, ought not to operate, for every husband has it in his power to prevent the exercise of improper influence by dignified firmness.

HINTS RESPECTING EDUCATION.

THERE is no subject more important, or more vitally interesting, than that which tends to form the future man, we mean, education. From the æra of the revival of learning to our own times, it has very frequently occupied the thoughts and elicited the observations of ingenious and reflecting men; yet, even at the present time, it does not appear to be settled on a proper basis. A periodical writer says, The end of education is the formation

of the manly character; the teaching man to look within himself for the principles of conduct and of knowlege; the supplying of a counteracting influence by which the evil effect of the world's temptations may be as much as possible neutralised, and the mind, with all its inborn capabilities and yearnings, confirmed, developed, and encouraged in its progress toward that possible good, the desire of whose attainment is at once its best stay and the surest pledge of its high destiny; the rescuing of the will from the bondage of outward things, and the building-up of a firm and consistent structure on the broad foundations of religion, on love, freedom, and intelligence. Such is our view of the end of education, as respects the infinite and imperishable in man; a secondary consideration is, we know, forced upon us by the nature of our situation in this world, and education must embrace the instruction by which we are to procure for ourselves the necessaries of life."

There is some sense in this passage, though it is uncouthly expressed. Undoubtedly the end of education is to make people wiser and better. The wiser they are, the better they may be expected to be; but, amidst the corruption of human nature, that is not always the case. The end being ascertained, the best means of attaining that end must be considered. On this head "doctors differ," and the subject will long be contested, with little hope of a final settlement. The present rage is for quickness of proceeding; but there any many who will say, "the more haste, the worse speed." There is an abundance of time, during the period of youth, for a deliberate process in the great work of education, and therefore there is no pretence for hastening it. Whatever is performed slowly (if we except the flights of poetic imagination) is done better than if it be executed in a hurry. If we speak according to an immediate impulse, what nonsense we frequently talk! If we take more time, we are sure to speak more to the purpose. An ancient philosopher said to his disciples, "Think twice before you speak once;" and every one who would not wish to expose himself to ridicule or censure ought to follow this advice. Applying this idea to education, we say to instructors, "Take time to teach properly what every one would wish or ought to learn."

The first occupations of a child are merely gymnastical: it moves its hands and its feet, and observes the movements

of others, before it displays any appear. ance of mental developement or intellectual consciousness. But, as soon as it begins to exhibit signs bordering on thought, we may "direct its attention (says the master of a school founded on the system of Pestalozzi) to its little hands and arms, head, eyes, and other parts of its frame. This done, we desire it to take notice of a cat, and a dog, of their various organs of sense, their limbs, and so forth, observing the particular office of each member, the relation of each part to the whole, the active principle of life pervading every part, and, finally, the similarity between the animal and the child itself. From animals we proceed to vegetables; from those to minerals and from natural objects thus introduced, we feel no difficulty in ascending to spiritual ones, by an easy transition; thus leading the children to form ideas, according to their own capacities, upon their nature, both as human and immortal beings.

"Our aim is to distinguish between a mere act of the memory, and an act of the mind. Our object is to teach more by things than words, because in the formation of an idea more is necessary than merely bringing the object before the senses. Its qualities must be explained; its origin accounted for, its parts described, their relation to the whole ascertained: its use, its effects, or its consequences must be stated;-all this must be done, at the same time, in a manner sufficiently clear and comprehensive, to enable the child to distinguish this from other objects, and to account for the distinction which is made; and, whenever the knowlege of an abstract (or separate) idea is to be communicated, an equivalent to the representation should be given, through the medium of a fact, as an exemplification. For the way by precept is long and laborious; the way by example is short and easy. Farther, we endeavour not only to act upon the child, but to let him become an agent in the improvement of his own mind, by making him think. His thought should be regular and self-active. We do not so much talk to a child, as enter into conversation with him. The exercises which we recommend for employing the mind and eliciting thought, are such as embrace form, number, and language. Whatever ideas we may have to acquire during life, are introduced through the medium of one of these departments.",

.

With regard to form or figure, we are

of opinion that the school-master overrates that mode of reference; but let him speak for himself. "The master ought to be provided with an instrument made of iron or brass, cut in ten or twelve pieces of equal length, which are riveted together near the ends, and with which he can at pleasure form various figures, in which lessons the scholars are led to observe the difference between an acute, a right, or an obtuse angle, oblongs, squares, &c. The diameters of circles and their centres; also semicircles, ovals, spiral lines, concave and convex angles, &c., are useful and excellent subjects for thinking lessons, I must here anticipate my friend's old objection, "All this is good in its place; but why teach it to poor children?" We answer, our aim is to develope the powers of the infant mind; and that principally by leading them to the study of nature, the various objects of which will be found to form themselves into some one or more of these geometrical shapes. For example, you have of course observed that a tree possesses its points, lines, and angles; its leaves and branches, its stem and its fruit, are either circular, oval, conical, round, or spiral, &c. while the fragrant flowers, the distinct parts of animals, minerals, and the human frame, also comprise these shapes and forms in their appearances. Hence, ask an infant scholar to show you an angle, and it will point to its elbow, or a knuckle. Ask for a concave angle, and it will point to a corner of its eye, or of its mouth; or for a circle, and it will answer, "My eye-ball." I know a lady who one day asked a class of children to tell her "of a circle of the body," when an answer to the above effect was given."What," ," she continued, "can you do with your eye?" "We can see," was a general answer; but one little girl said, "We can sin too." "How?" rejoined the lady " can you sin with your eye?" "If," was the answer, we see a young lady or gentleman dressed in nice clothes, and wish they were ours, we covet what is our neighbour's, and that is sinning against God with our eyes." I only wish to add, that this branch of knowlege is also exceedingly useful in preparing the children for writing, by leading them to the use of the slate and pencil, by means of which they form lines, angles, and figures."

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In the new schools, the little pupils soon learn, in some degree, the science of number. Every thing in this branch is done by combinations of the simple elements; marbles, pebbles, &c. are used to