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through. I passed swiftly onward among the Ah! I can never forget my holy and humble for me: they have a better eloquence with God than trees, and soon entered a little verdant plain, partly Gertrude. I had long ceased to pray for myself, the best words. Ob! my Heavenly Father, -as overshadowed by lofty trees. The moonshine then but when I beheld my young and timid wife alone she spake she raised her soft eyes lowards heaven, made the spot almost as light as it was during the in a strange land with a husband who was too vile · What a happy wife I am!' I rose up, humbled in my day. A considerable part of this little plain was to be allowed even a corner of this fallen world; so'l, humbled to the dust, feeling the deep bitterness fully revealed, and I saw that the herbage beneath when I beheld her perfect and confiding faith in of my own heart, my face all crimsoned with shame. my feet bad been crushed down, apparently by the me, I shuddered at her danger-I prayed for her, I felt then ashamed of even the height of my figure. weight of some burden which had been dragged though I did not then dare to pray for myself. II felt that my head was too near the throne of Him with difficulty over it. Years seemed to fly back, have lain prostrate on the ground in prayer for her, whom I had insulted and despised. I heard some. and to restore a time which it tortared my soul to heart-broken and speechless, for I seldom presumed thing move behind me in the dead silence-I looked remember. I stopped again, and would have turned to address with words the Being whom I had for- round-The fresh evening breeze bad merely overback, when the sbrieks, which had ceased for a lit- saken. I could not weep for myself, but for her set a crystal vase too full of lowers. Again I tle while, burst out again close to me; and amid my eyes would become rivers of tears Her calm started, for I thought I could distinguish the planthem I could distinguish the sound of my own name. unsuspecting affection, the mild humility, the simple tom approaching from the farther end of the chamI turned-ah! how can I describe the scene! A truth of her character, the heart that was so evident ber-i gazed steadily-I had merely seen my own tall man stood before me- he looked round on me in all her conduct, endeared her to me—I had never shadow on the wall. with a horrid glance, as if furious at the interrup- met with such a person before--yet from the mo- My wife slept for some hours very calmly; but tion of my presence-I saw my own face-I saw ment that I called her mine, one thought had been before she awoke, I observed her whole countemy own arm raised, a hunting-knife was clasped in present with me—that I should lose ber. Gradu nance change, and at last she started from her sleep, the hand, reeking and dripping ith blood—a young ally, every power within me had been drawn over and cried out with the pangs which had already girl was struggling at the knees of the phantom, to this thought, and hung riveted upon it. The overtaken her. I called hastily to some of her alclinging to him with frantic gestures, and gasping nourishment of every hope I cherished was drawn tendants who were in the antechamber; and reand shrieking by turns, as she strove to restrain or from the presence of my wife with me For a tine signing my place to ber nurse, I stole softly from her to avoid the forceful gashes of the gory knife.--I I almost forgot the phantom. Had he appeared, 1 room. Hour after hour
passed away, and I was at sprang forward-I Aung myself upon the murder- sometimes thought I should have scarcely needed times obliged almost to rush from the antechamber, ing fiend—with all the strength of my powerful him. The dreaded time drew nigh: my wife was to conceal from my wife the bursts of passionate liinbs I tore him from his victim— I wrenched the about to become a mother. I seldom quitted her grief which overwhelmed ine. At last I heard knife from his hand—but I--I myself was in his side, and if I saw her cheek change colour, if ! them move about quickly in the chamber: 1 displace --Christina was really struggling with me.--I perceived a slight expression of pain on her lip. 1 tinguished low and shivering groans; once I heard felt the knife in my own hand, I felt her soft hands was wretched. How often would she take my the voice of my wife : 'Oh, do not think of me,' sbe striving with me; and her wild frantic shrieks were fevered hands in her own, and look up in my face cried faintly, save my child!" Think only of your only less appalling than the laugh of the fiend, with her calm sweet siniles, and tell me not to fear lady:-of saving my wife!' I called out with a low which I heard behind me. All this lasted but a for her! Her look, her words, were but another but firm voice. Ai that moment a piercing shriek few moments I had fled away--But ere I had left pang for me. I could only see in her a victim, a thrilled through my whole frame : I heard onlythe plain, the shrieks had stopped me again-What fair innocent lamb about to be sacrificed. On the She is safe,' and rushed wild with joy from the could I do but turn back? The same bloody slaugh- evening before the birth of my child, I was, as I soon returned again, I stole on tiptoe into ter met my sight: I rushed forward again, and again usual, in the apartment of my wife. She had never my wife's chamber, she seemed asleep, her face was found myself in the place of the fiend, with Christina appeared to me so cheerful, so healthful, so entirely turned towards me. The nurse looked at me, and dying beneath my hands. I tried to escape again, but a creature of hope. I could not help frequently raised her hands, as if to say, 'There is now no hope." I'strove in vain. I was forced, by some irresistible gazing on her, and saying to myself, It is impos. Igazed again on the pallid and exhausted sleeper; power, to stand close to the murderer, who once sible that she can be suddenly taken from me. It once or twice she attempted to open her eyes, bat turned round, looked full on me, and said very will need months to break up, to disunite all that she was too feeble. I whispered who was near her, calmly, .We are one.'. I was forced to see myself intermingled life of mind and body.:-My Gertrude and something like a smile faintly flickered over commit over again the horrid murder which I had seemed on that evening to open all her heart to me. her features, and disturbed their fixed repose. I in fact perpetrated seven years before, at that very With modest and confiding tenderness, she spoke whispered to her again. I laid my face close to spot, on a wretched girl, whose fidelity to my illicit of her plans for her child. She told me how she the pillow. On my knees I remained I know not passion I had suspected. I would not willingly longed to go with her husband and his child, to how long, watching for a stirring of life upon her dwell on such disgustingly dreadful details, but 1 her own green, bappy England. She spoke of the face. Sometimes I thought I could perceive a light will conceal nothing from you.-All that in the days of her childhood. All ber conversation seemed breathing between her lips, a twinkling in the lustre blind, mad fury of my rage, I had before scarcely to breathe of hope, till suddenly observing my grave of her balf-closed eyes.. At last I touched her lips perceived, all that I remembered not till I be held it countenance, she stopped, and the tears rose into with mine, they were cold and stiff. My child had repeated, every look, every gesture of my fury did her eyes. She wept very quietly for a few minutes, lived only a few minutes. I behold acted over again by that form which was and then said in a softer and sweeter voice, without Many days had passed over me before I awoke indeed mine-but I saw it all in cool blood—I stood raising up her meek head, 'Do not think, dearest, from this last affliction; awoke in soul, I should say, almost as a calm spectator beside Christina and her that I have forgotten the blight which may fall upon for to all appearance I suffered little. I gave orders murderer. I saw her white rounded shoulders all my earthly hopes. I do not think a day has passed for the funeral of my wife and child with a calmgashed with wounds- I saw one of her small hands since I first looked forward to the time which is ness that astonished those about me; I followed split, literally split up from the fingers to the slender now so near, no, not a single day in which I have their lifeless bodies to the grave; I gave directions wrist, as she struggled to keep back the knife-1 noc prayed fervently to be prepared for a sudden to an artist of great celebrity for their monument. saw her flashing eyes shrink and close beneath the call to another world. I think my prayers have I sketched the figures which I determined should smoking blade; and the dark gore bubble out over been beard, for I only prayed that God's will might be placed over the tomb; my wife in almost the her bosom; and her long hair cling dabbled together be done with me, and I prayed in His name by same simple attitude as when I first beheld her sitin the pool of blood. I saw -No, no–I can write whom alone we can come into the presence of Our ting in the portico of my palace, except that her no more of it-And all the while the eye of Him Father. Nay, my own husband, you must not be little infant was lying in her arms. I paid as imwho died upon the cross to save iny soul, was fixed thus agitated? Indeed, I am never less melancholy mense price t. the artist on the condition that the upon me-O! as I write I can scarcely believe that than when I speak of my religion, my bope, my monument should be erected in a few weeks. I I have been what I was ! O my friend, if your feel. peace I should call it. All my cheerfulness flows saw the tomb finished, and placed above the bodies ings are now frozen with horror, if my own soul is from that one purest source.--I am rather wearied just as I had directed, with the few words, Thy now stupified within me at the recollection of my now,' she added, “and would sleep a little while in will be done, graven deeply into the cold hard infernal guilt, what must that forgiving Saviour your arms; but first,' she said 'solemniy, dear marble, and I was satisfied. I then determined to have felt, who is of purer eyes than to behold Lorenzo, do kneel down beside me, as I cannot now leave Italy. I gave a general order that my palace iniquity! O branded and miserable Cain, my fel. kneel myself, and offer up a short prayer for me. ! in Naples and all my other property should be sold. lowship is with thee!
shall be calmer and happier, as I hear your voice,' I bad locked up the chamber of my wife as soon as When my wife opened her eyes, she beheld me I could not reply to this entreaty. I was silent, they had removed her beloved corpse; and bring still sitting near the open lattice, with the volume and my wife said timidly. I fear my request ha arranged every thing for my departure, I resolved of Ariosto in my hand; but dark clouds had gath- displeased you, but I thought you would forgive it to spend my last evening in that apartment; I or ered over the moon, and my features were not I have never breathed the wish till now.' I felt my dered that every visiter should be refused admitvisible.
heart melt with tenderness and shame, as 1 silently tance to me, and I then entered that dear chamber: I believe that my gentle wife never discoreredpressed iny cheek to that of my gentle Gertrude, the very air within it seemed still to breathe of her the cause of my wretchedness. Her health was so and then knelt down close beside her. Had I been presence,-it seemed yet fragrant with that delicate extremely delicate, that the bare idea of her being alone, I think I could have prayed without difficulty purity which had been as peculiar to her person as acquainted with the state of my heart was anguish for her; but I now was as one deprived of speech, io her mind. The loose dress of white muslin, to me. Had she known that the stem round which I could only cover my face with my hands and which she had last worn, lay as when it had been she had entwined so closely, to which she clung weep like an infant. Nay, my beloved Lorenzo,' carelessly thrown off, on a low sofa. I remembered with every fibre of her devoted affection ; had she exclaimed my sweet wife, and stooping down, she that she had been sitting on that same sofa the known how deadly, how cankered that stem was, kissed my forehead, I was wrong to distress you evening before her death: that she bad risen from surely she would have withered there at once ! thus. Rise up: your tears will ascend to heaven' it as I appeared. I sat down there and wept, for
the first time since I had lost her. My tears seemed | been opened. No man can now elevate great men found it expedient to vary from to freshen the feelings of my grief; every little himself by the most elaborate imitations, their predecessors. Indeed we do not recolcircumstance which hd beea half-obscured, half. and Mr Campbell unbappily belongs to the sect a single great poet who has not a verforgotten, in the late dull and stupiñed state of my class of imitators. mind, now came forth in vivid colouring. I con
We do not know but sitication peculiarly his own. Byron, in tinued to weep, and to press the light dress which we may shock the prejudices of soine of our his dedication of the “ Corsair,” talks about my Gertrude had last worn, to stop my ears. While readers by this assertion, nor do we mean his having attenipted" the good, old, and now siiting there, I discovered a small volume lying be to make it without some qualitication. His neglected heroic couplet ; but the coupneath one of the cushions of the sofa, and I recol- lyric poetry is bis own, pure and unming-leis of the “ Corsair” are no more like the lected that I bad often seen it in the hands of wife. The book was lying open, as if it had been ied, and noble; but his longer works-chose couplets of Dryden, or of Pope, or of Goldjust laid down. I was struck by the peculiar rich to which his odes are but appendages-ail smith, than they are like the couplets of ness of the binding: the sides and back were cov- discover mannerisin and imitation strongly Chaucer, or than the blank verse of Thomered with green velvet, thickly bossed with pearls marked. This will not do now, and cannot son is like the blank verse of Milton or and rubies, and its clasps, of pale virgin gold, were do hereafter. The master poets of the age Young. It is curious to see that in the also studded with valuable gems. I expected to find have broken down the barriers of preju. lyric poetry of Campbell,
that part of his some rare and richly ornamented manuscript, some painted wrissal: 1 was disappointed, for the volume dice; they have moulded anew the public works on which his fame must ultimately was a small plainly printed English Bible. I hastily taste, and stamped it with an original im- rest,—he has invented new measures of turned over the leaves : on the title page my wife press. No revival of an obsolete school of verse. had written with an unsteady hand these words - poetry, no direct imitation of a new one, As to this recent publication, we do not *My last prayer will be that my husband may regard this book as his
best treasure – it has been can now win the applause of the public, think it will increase the fame of Campever mine. From the grave, from another world, though it may exact the approval of critics. bell; neither do we think it will shake his I beseech bim to search this message of God him- Campbell was happy in the time at which well established reputation. It comes too self. O let hini not dispute over this sacred volume, “The Pleasures of Hope” was published; late to effect this; but had it appeared imbut pray in a childlike and teachable spirit for the a few years later, and it would been prais- mediately after “The Pleasures of Hope," knowledge of himself, of the truth, of eternal happi; ed by critics and neglected by readers, if it would have needed something better ness!' .For your sake, my blessed love,' I exclaimed fervently, I will read this little volume! It shall indeed his good sense would not then have than “Gertrude of Wyoming,” bighly pollie next to my heart, which your image shall never entirely suppressed it. Brown's Paradise ished as that is, to have placed him on his leave. Ai that moment the phantom stood before of Coquettes”, and “ Bower of Spring" former level in public estimation. me, and the book dropped from my hand. were praised in the Edinburgh Review; Theodric is a short tale, and, as it seems
All about me seemed to undergo a gradual change, but we may retort on the critics their own to us, carelessly told. It opens with a deand the presence of the planton is no longer drealful to me. He still appeareth often, but not to ter- words, “Who reads
them?". They slumber scription of Alpine scenery, conveyed from rify, not to wither my heart within me. I have with Hayley's “Triumphs of Temper.” Wordsworth, and sadly marred in the translearned to bless his appearance, for he now cometh Truly the Scottish critics have been very version. The poet imagines himself standraiher as a friendly monitor. In the hour of danger, unhappy in their remarks on poetry, in the ing by the tomb of a Swiss maiden, whose of teinpration, of trial, I see his look of agonized subjects which they have selected either story is told him by his companion : that entreaty, I hear his, solemn; voice of warning: cales for praise or blame. They seemed to have she fell in love with a colonel in the Aus
past guilt, and pointing those mercies which have blotted out the sentence of condemna put down Wordsworth for a time; they trian army from the enthusiastic description pronounced against all sinners. His form I ridiculed Byron and Coleridge; they be- tions of her brother, who was a cornet in can still recognise, but it seemeth like one that is stowed mingled praise and censure on his troop; and learning that he was about transfigured, and the garments that be wears are Southey ;-look at the result! Those pas. to marry another woman, she died of love ; white and glistening.
Here I conclude You say that you must return sages of Southey, which they condemned that the colonel having one day scolded å to England. My true friend, I would go thither are admired, and the judges are condemned little, because his wife stayed too long on a also. "I would no longer defer my departure from for those which they absolved. Coleridge visit, she died of grief thereupon just about Naples : for whither thou goest I will go; and is now confessedly“ a singularly wild and the same time. What became of the colonel where thou lodgest I will lodge : Thy people shall beautiful” poet, the most original perhaps and cornet afterwards, our author says not. be my people, and thy God my God.
that ever wrote.* The superior excellence Now any man who is conversant with the of some of Byron's later performances are Lake poets, must know, that a fine super
thought by good judges to be due to his structure of poetry might have been built Theodric; a Domestic Tale; and Other Poems. By Thomas Campbell. New having been dosed, with Wordsworth.” on such a plan as this. We ourselves, ad
And, in Wordsworth's own language, 'who mirers as we are of another school than his, York. 1825. 18mo. pp. 116.
does not observe to what a degree the did believe that Mr Campbell could have MR CAMPBELL’s fortune as a poet has been poetry of the Island has been coloured by worked up this simple tale powerfully; but singular. The fame of other poets fluctu- his works?
he has failed. The style is a strange medated during their whole lives, and their For one who loves literature well enough ley-some passages are of the versification niches in the Temple were assigned to to trace its history in its minuter points, it is of Mr Campbell's earlier works, some of them, by posterity; but he seems many interesting to notice the changes in the that of Lord Byron's, and now and then a years ago to have attained a station, from versification of our language since the days dash of Crabbe's; and we could not feel which no subsequent performances have of Queen Elizabeth, from the ruggedness affected by the incidents, however much we removed him; and he is now arrived at an of Donne and Cowley, through the affect- tried. We quote the opening lines. age which runders it improbable that he ed airiness of Waller, the stateliness of
'Twas sunset, and the Ranz des Vaches was sung. will produce any work to alter the judg. Dryden, and the flippancy of Pope, to the And lights were o'er th' Helvetian mountains flung, ment of the public. He has always been, smooth flow of Goldsmith and his followers ; That gave the glacier tops their richest glow, and from the nature of things always must and then to turn to the rich and varied har. And tinged the lakes like molten gold below: be, a popular poct, but, as it has been de mony that wells forth from the pages of Warmth flushed the wonted regions of the storm, cided, a poet of the second class. There Walter Scott and of Byron, and the poets That high in Heaven's vermilion wheeled and soared.
Where, Phænir-like, you saw the eagle's form, are passages in all his works which appeal of the Lake school. We have not adverted Woods nearer frowned, and cataracts dashed and directly to feelings inherent in human na- to the less marked differences which may roared, ture,--passages which will awaken respon- be found in some of the intertrediate poets; From beights brouzed by the bounding bouquetin; ses in the breast of every reader. His first work, “ The Pleasures of Hope," even in the trivial point of form, these and hamlets glittered white, and gardens flourished
but we have cited enough to show, that, Herds tinkling roamed the long-drawn vales bewas, according to the notions of the lead.
green. ers of the public taste in its day, a work of
* Why are not Coleridge's Poems republished high proinise. But better and more exalt- in this country? We have but few of thein, and
Some of our readers may not have had an ed views of poetical excellence have since I those not the best.
opportunity of seeing the original of these
lines; and to such of them as have seen it, I love of ordinary mortals, than that which is What though beneath thee man put forth
“ The Ritter Bann”. His pomp, his pride, his skill; we presume no apology is necessary for re- expressed in Byron's.
And arts that made fire, flood, and earth, calling to their recollection such finished has been sufficiently ridiculed, so we will not
The vassals of his will;poetry of so high an order.
join in the chorus. “Reullura" is as tame as Yet mourn not I thy parted sway,
the Ritter. The Song" Men of England" Thou dim discrowned king of day: 'Tis storm, and hid in mist from hour to hour, All day the floods a deepening murmur pour; is more in the style of Campbell's best For all those trophied arts
And triumphs that beneath thee sprang The sky is veiled, and every cheerful sight; efforts than any thing else in the volume,
Healed not a passion or a pang
Entailed on human hearts.
Go, let oblivion's curtain fall Glances the fire-clad eagle's wheeling form ;
SONO— MEN OF ENGLAND.'
Upon the stage of men, Eastward, in long perspective glittering, shine
Men of England! who inherit
Nor with thy rising beams recall The wood-crowned cliffs that o'er the lake re line;
Rights that cost your sires their blood!
Life's tragedy again. Wide o'er the Alps a hundred streams unfold,
Men whose uudegenerate spirit
Its piteous pageants bring not back, At once to pillars turned that flame with gold;
Has been proved on land and flood!
Nor waken flesh upon the rack Behind his sail the peasant strives to shun
Of pain anew to writhe ; The west, that burns like one dilated sun,
By the foes ye 've fought uncounted,
Stretched in disease's shapes abhorred, Where in a mighty crucible expire
By the glorious deeds ye 've done,
Or mown in battle by the sword,
Like grass beneath the scythe.
Even I am weary.in yon skies
To watch thy fading fire ; poetry which we doubt not owes its origin
Hence but fruitless wreaths of fame,
Test of all sumless agonies, to this. We mean the opening of the third If the patriotism of your fathers
Behold not me expire. canto of the Corsair; but no trace of imita- Glow not in your hearts the same.
My lips that speak thy dirge of deathtion is to be found there. Byron was a mas- What are monuments of bravery,
Their rounded gasp and gurgling breath
To see thou shalt not boast. ter of his art; he did not borrow another
Where no public virtues bloom?
The eclipse of Nature spreads my pall, man's lamp and pour out the oil; but when
The majesty of Darkness shall
Trophied temples, arch, and tomb ? he had caught light from it, the flame which
Receive my parting ghost !
This spirit shall return to Him
Thai gave its heavenly spark ; found in Theodric any other passage of such
Bared in Freedom's holy cause.
Yet think not, Sun, it shall be din palpable imitation as that which we have
When thou thyself art dark ! quoted; but we think that the whole poem Yours are Hampden's, Russell's glory,
No! it shall live again, and shine evinces, that it is the work of one who Sydney's matchless shade is
In bliss unknown to beams of thine,
Martyrs in heroic story, draws sometimes from one and sometimes
By Hinn recalled to breath,
Who captive led captivity, from another, without relying upon his own
Who robbed the grave of Victory, collected and concocted resources. Like We 're the sons of sires that baffled
And took the sting from Death!
Crowned and mitred tyranny: all the works of its author, it has passages
They defied the field and scaffold of tranquil beauty. The following descrip
Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me up
On Nature's awful waste
To drink this last and bitter cup and to know her well
Of grief that man shall tasteexhibits as much power and originality as Prolonged, exalted, bound, enchantment's spell;
Go, tell that night that hides thy face, For with affections warm, intense, refined, any thing in the volume; but it is difficult
Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race,
that Mr Campbell remembered while writ- To quench his Immortality, Hers was the brow, in trials unperplexed,
Or shake his trust in God!
THE LAST MAN.
All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, A Comparative View of the Systems of Peso She sang not, knew not Music's magic skill
The Sun himself must die, But yet her voice had tones that swayed the will.
talozzi and Lancaster: in an Address
Before this mortal shall assume There are lines in which the author's wish
delivered before the Society of Teachers
Its immortality! to snatch, like some of his cotemporaries,
I saw a vision in my sleep,
of the City of New York. By Solyman That gave my spirit strength to sweep
Brown, A. M. New York. 1825. 8vo. “a grace beyond the reach of art,” has be.
Adown the gulf of Time ! trayed bim into a meanness of expression
I saw the last of human mould, that sorts but oddly with the others around
That shall Creation's death behold,
The title of this pamphlet excited our inthem. Such, for instance, as these :
As Adam saw her prime !
terest to a high degree, but we were not a
little disappointed on being obliged to read His ecstacy, it may be guessed, was much.'
The Sun's eye had a sickly glare,
to the seventeenth page before we found
The earth with age was wan, • But how our fates from unmomentous things
The skeletons of nations were
the subject again alluded to. The precedMay rise, like rivers, out of little springs.'
Around that lonely man!
ing part consists of judicious remarks upon The boy was half beside bimself.'
Some had expired in fight,--the brands the importance of education, and the value of the smaller poems contained in this
Still rusted in their bony hands;
of good instructers. The most important volume, none are equal to some which
In plague and famine some!
observations occur on pages 21, 22.
Earth's cities had no sound nor tread, Campbell has heretofore written; several
And ships were drifting with the dead
The difference between these two systems of of them were first published in the New To shores where all was dumb!
Pestalozzi and Lancaster, I have said, is greatMonthly Magazine. Some of the contribu
greater, perhaps, than we have been accustomed to tors to that Magazine are, however, better
Yet, prophet-like, that lone one stood, . imagine. In the one, (that of Lancaster) where a
multitude of words are read, and perhaps commitpoets than its editor, if we may suppose That shook the sere leaves from the wood ted to memory by the pupil, a great quantity of the that the poetry there published, and not re- As if a storm passed by,
signs of ideas is acquired; while the ideas them. published here, was the work of others. Saying, We are twins in death, proud Sun, selves, and the things of which they are the images, The love songs are about as good as love
Thy face is cold, thy race is run,
are totally unknown. If words were the natural
'Tis Mercy bids thee go; songs commonly are. They are more true
signs of things, or even the natural signs of ideas,
For thou ten thousand thousand years to nature than Moore's, and the feeling
the case would be reversed; but so long as language Hast seen the tide of human tears,
consists of conventional and artificial signs, having which they express is much more like the That shall no longer flow.
no analogy with thoughts or things, a mere reliance
upon books in elementary instruction, will be little a degree of disgust which proves a great im- the developement of the mental powers. He rebetter than a nostrum of paper and of ink.
pediment to the acquisition of knowledge in dected, that in those ancient days, the art of printIn the other system, on the contrary, where books are introduced only to embody the elements of sci- any way. The best part of all that children ing was yet unknown, and hence, that the diffusion ence, and where able teachers are employed
to learn, is caught in casual moments, when of Aristotle and Plato, of Socrates and Pythagoras, illustrate, to amplify, to infer; to elicit
thought and facts happen to be illustrated in a familiar among the Greeks; some of whom removed to Italy, excite reflection; to encourage inquiry and engage and interesting manner, and especially when in order to disseminate among the Roman youth, curiosity; to teach practice, and explode theory, they chance to see a simple truth explained the knowledge they had gained in Egypt and the either things themselves are presented directly to
may the mind, by the aid of analogous images already be said, that this is all the knowledge that pher, after comparing all the data derived from the senses, or their appropriate ideas are excited in by being applied to its proper use. there, and the mere words which signify the one scholars can obtain, which is legitimate. history, resulted in the conclusion, that the great and the other, follow of necessity. In this case we Whatever is not so acquired, is unaccom- diversity of elementary books employed in the secure the reality, instead of the transient shadow panied by love of knowledge for its own schools of modern times, is destructive of the best which fits across the mind only to leave it in sake, or the proper use which it is designed interests of early education; especially when those greater darkness and more deplorable sterility. In short: the one system imparts IDEAS, and the other to effect. It is altogether factitious; and books are voluminous and prolix-calculated to when the spurious motive which excited the enlighten, and expand the mind.
burden, perplex, and stupify, rather than exhilarate, mind to the exertion by which it was ob. The character of those elementary treatises which In the statement of the difference between tained, ceases to operate, then all interest were employed by ancient instructers, he was enathe two methods of teaching, the author is in the knowledge ceases, and it is generally bled to infer from a single splendid example which perfectly correct; but we regret that he did forgotten.
had survived the conflagration of the library of not exclude less important matter, and give The acquisition of knowledge is not in barians in the Western Empire. This was the
Alexandria, and all the ravages of the Gothic bara more full exposition of the Pestalozzian itself unpleasant to any mind. A love of Geometry of Euclid, the preceptor of the Ptolesystem. We know of no other subject so knowing, a pleasure in receiving informa- mies :--a book which has been found so complete important to all who have any concern tion, is proper to the nature of all children; in itself; so free from redundancy and defect; so with the business of instruction-from the and there is always something which is pre- perfectly inclusive and exclusive, ihat no geometrimother who sows the seed, to the instructer cisely
adapted to the capacity of every child, can in any age, has been able to add or diminish, of ripening youth, who aids in the expansion and in which he will feel a strong interest only are the books which Pestalozzi and his follow
without creating an evident imperfection. Such of the branches, the leaves, and the flowers, when it is presented to his mind. To obtain ers believe to be suited to the minds of youth. and prepares the tree to bring forth fruit. what is now suited to the state and powers But this philosopher ventured even farther, and We do not ascribe to Pestalozzi the sole of the intellect, will infallibly prepare the suffered himself to conjecture what was the characmerit of reviving the system of analytical way for the truth next in order; and the ter of those instructors to whom the Egyptians, instruction. It is a striking characteristic, mind may advance by this regular gradation their children. He was able to demonstrate, be
Greeks, and Romans, intrusted the education of of the present age, that men are unwilling towards the illimitable measures of eternity. yond contradiction, that many of the first names to believe any thing on authority ; it must We know that this theory, when pre- which history has transmitted, were teachers of the be explained and illustrated so that it can sented definitely, still appears to most per- youth of their country: and he found no trifling be understood. The mind revolts from a
sons wild and extravagant. The truth is, we number of examples of a fact still more to his purdogmatical mode of teaching. We love to can form no idea of this orderly, analytical pose ; that young men were sent from remote feel that we are free and rational agents, arrangement of the facts or truths in sci-| Hence he very logically inferred, that the most
countries to be taught by these great masters. as well while acquiring, as while using, ence, because we were not thus instructed approved instructors were MEN of learning, expeknowledge.
All our knowledge consists of truths ob- rience, and character. All the causes which have combined to tained with little regard to method, and By this process of investigation, corroborated by produce this character in the present age, stored in the mind with almost no reference tradition among the descendants of these two na. have tended equally to introduce that method to orderly arrangement.
tions, resident in the mountains of his country, of instruction which Pestalozzi has done so The greatest difficulty which this system ciquity could supply, and reduced to practice in his
Pestalozzi gathered all the assistance which an. much to illustrate and recommend. The presents, is that of determining the proper native Switzerland, the result of his inquiries. His Reformation, the works of Bacon, of New
arrangement of the several sciences. Prob- plan has been successfully pursued in Europe and ton, of Franklin, and many others, and all ably it should be different with different America; and the institution of Fellemburgh in that has been done to encourage and culti- scholars. In any single science, there is Switzerland, and the Polytechnic school of France, kate experimental science, bave contributed no great difficulıý in arranging the truths
have given celebrity to his principles. to the same end. The tendency of the analytically. We mention, as examples, and in perfect harmony with the philosophy of
These principles are at once natural and simple, whole, is to abolish the system of dogmati- Euclid's Elements in Geometry and Col. Franklin, to practise much, and trust little to cal teaching, and to substitute for it a sys- burn's First Lessons in Arithmetic. Upon theory.' The simple elements of science are pretem of learning, a system by which the some other occasion, we may endeavour to sented to the learner, and he is led to all the minute scholar shall, at all times, have that pre- show, that the same system of arrangement ner the pupil is induced to confide little in a mere
particulars, as if by actual discovery. In this man. septed to his mind which he is capable of can easily be applied to the other sciences; tenacity of memory, but to repose with all its powers comprehending, and of applying to some and shall conclude this notice with an ex- on the decisions of an active understanding use. This is the way in which all real tract from the Address of Mr Brown, which Lancaster, on the other hand, was desirous of knowledge is obtained, and it is because contains some just observations respecting hazarding a mere esperiment, without the least auour elementary books and our common the systems he is comparing.
thority from the practice of any age or nation. Inodes of instruction are so imperfect, that
A philanthropist, no doubt, he desired a more so very little is done at school to improve
Among the variety of suggestions in relation to general diffusion of knowledge than the condition any other faculty of the mind than the the best method of inculcation, those of Pestalozzi of the poorer classes of the community, in every
and Lancaster, have secured the greatest share of country, bad hitherto admitted. By a sole reliance memory. The memory is continually stuffed public consideration. But while cach has found its on books, with the bare rehearsal of lessons to those with natural images, while the affections are advocates, no iwo systems are more diametrically who were ignorant of their meaning, he hoped that uninterested in them, and the understanding opposed.
such children as were deprived of higher advantakes no cognizance of their application or
Pestalozzi seems to have reverted his eye upon tages, might receive, at least, tolerable instrucuse. Foreign motives—as sear of punish- and, after admiring the perfection of the respective the brightest pages of Grecian and Roman history, tion.
In England, where this system received at first ment and hope of reward—must be contin, languages of these two august nations, to have in- considerable patronage, it has sunk into general ually urged in order to encourage the mind quired into the causes of their literary and intel- neglect; and in these States, where Lancaster to this almost useless mode of acquiring lectual greatness. By a natural mode of argument, travelled long, and laboured with indefatigable inknowledge. We call this species of knowl. from effect to cause, he was led to suspect, that the dustry to impress the public mird with the sense of edge almost useless, because it proves of eminent historians and poets, orators and statesmen, the importance of his new discovery, the schools
military chieftains and scientific artists of those established on this plan have gradually dwindled, comparatively little practical advantage, states, must have acquired the first rudiments of the and must eventually share the fate of their predeand the acquirement of it is accompanied by sciences under circumstances peculiarly adapted to cessors across the Atlantic. I have witnessed the
AUTHORS AND WRITERS.
living pranks of very few of these monsters; but I of its nearest approximations. Theirs has they have detected motive, where
other have attended during the funeral obsequies of sev been a study of human experience in its men have only been taken with the coneral, in different states, and have seen their remains, varieties and causes. The distinctions they duct. They thus take us in their works to unattended by a solitary mourner, committed to have made, have proceeded out of the ac- the deep springs of human action, and show everlasting forgetfulness.
tual differences of things. What such men to us all its sources, whether pure or it
were or thought years ago, or yesterday, in pure, however wickedly selfish, or honour. MISCELLANY.
regard to the great questions of human con- ably disinterested. These men are authors, cern, they would be, or think today. They for they are eminently producers; for when have taught us what, and how they are; they have written, the world has got some
and if they have seemed different beings to thing which it had not before. These are AUTHORS Dever die. The good and the us at any time, the change has most proba- rare men. Ages have passed away without evil they do, alike live after them. The bly belonged to our own minds, not to them. When they have appeared, it has body may be dead, but the mind lives; on theirs.
been sometimes accidentally, and the world earth too; and will live. Men's minds, as Such men are inestimably valuable at all has not known its own; and they have had others know them, are known by what they limes, and in all ages. They are especially so no other reward but the incommunicable say, do, and write. We have had men to our own. We are in a stirring world, and one, which a fine mind always has, and alamongst us who never wrote any thing, but are for turning it upside down. The change, ways must have, in the noble company of who, nevertheless, acted widely upon others even for the worse, is not altogether the its own thoughts. The works of such men by conversation alone. They thought as matter of doubtful choice it was once thought have been a legacy to all posterity. And deeply, and as accurately, and talked with to be ; or we are willing to change what is how sacred has been the entail; bow carethe same precision and order, as if they were well, for the chances of the better. Some ful have we been of the patrimony, and how thinking for writing, or were actually writ- of our most gifted talkers have taken the jealous lest its fame should become the ing. Their opinions were sought for, where word of the time, or put it into the time's property of another. they might be useful, and were as accessible mouth, and little now is, but what is not. The authors of whom we write never as if they were on the bookseller's counter, or In the men of whom we write, there was a repeat themselves. Let' characters or inin the library. These were strictly authors. saving leaven of human prudence. They cidents be as numerous as they may, a real They are, however, necessarily short-lived. had learned caution in the experience of individuality is preserved every where. You Their records are not permanent. They every hour. They had learned it as well in constantly perceive that the various beings are not the property of the whole, and the slow and wise progress of nature, as in created are conscious of their own identity, which the whole will find a common pride their profound observance of human con- and act in consequence of it; and that the and interest to preserve, and to preserve duct. They talked deliberately, as if in distinctions between them belong as natuunadulterated. They are the property of a barmony with this progress. I have known rally to this consciousness as they do to the few, which the few will appropriate, and instances of peculiar melody of voice among same thing in actual life. Shakspeare was may alter and deform without mercy, and these men, as if moral beauty, and a fine in- pre-eminent in this character of original without fear. It is melancholy to see the tellect, gave character to their expression. authorship. His dead, and equally bis living, mind thus dying to its own age, and to the If these were in any degree taught caution never appear again when he has done with future. If we have felt safer while such a and wisdom from nature, by the operation them, either to push us from our stools, or mind was with us and near us, when doinger of its ordinary progress upon their minds, jostle us in our way. The ghost of Banquo was abroad, or anticipated, we have lost they were especially taught the self-same appears indeed to the disturbed imagination much when we have lost it. We have ac- by its occasional deviations. They had seen of his own Macbeth ; but it had no form or quired a habit of dependence, and have felt ruin in the track of the storm, and in the being to Shakspeare's mind any more than it to be the direct and useful product of the flood of intolerable light from the clouds of it had to the vision of the royal guests. greater and better power of another. It heaven. They had seen the fair face of When Hostess Quickly tell us that Sir John has been a useful dependence, for its quality earth smiling in the calm sunshine, and its is dead, and how he died, the association of has been to make our own minds stronger best fruits in the safe shower.
the winding-sheet, the coffin, the pall, and and better. There has been an advantage But these men have not written. They the grave, inevitable, and we no more to us, perhaps, that these men have not gave their minds to perishing records, the look for his return on earth again, than we written. Their honest and sound views memories of men. A few years, and it will should for an acquaintance, or accustomed have not been submitted either to vulgar be difficult to remember their faces. If we neighbour, after he is buried. impertinence, or party malevolence. The remember their thoughts, it may not be to Some writers who have been once origisharp, and sometimes effective, criticism of better our own, or to act by them. nal, seem to have fallen in love with their lesser minds, or the encounter of as strong, Men, in the third place, are known by first fine conception, and ever after banker differently, and, it may be, less prudently what they write. This remark wants large for it as for a first love. Let now the variety directed, has not hurt our faith, or dimin- qualification. Writers are authors by ein- be intended to be never so great, and names, ished our confidence. We have reposed phasis, in common speaking. But all who ages, and temperaments differ as they may, delightedly and usefully beneath the pro- write are not so. Few men give us what we always detect some limb, some feature, or tection of a fine mind, and, it may be, for others have not given us before. Other some peculiarity of the first, given or transthe time, have not been disquieted, that we men's thoughts have passed through their fused into all its successors. Their minds have had so few with us. The influence that minds, it is true, but they have coine out as are like the philosopher's stone, whatever has been so limited and personal, however, as they went in. It is rare that they get is touched becomes gold. might have been felt every where. In its even a new costume, and if they do, how Great authors have, finally, a property in degree perhaps less vividly, but in its amount frequently are they only defurmed by it. their own minds, wbich other men have not. far greater. Above all, if these men had These are writers. An author is one whose Other men, and their thoughts and doings, written, they would have survived the mind has not been the highway of other and all external nature, it is true, have their grave,
men's thoughts, but a soil into which they effects upon them. But they have minds Men are known, it was said, by what they have been cast, like seed into the good too, and in virtue of the very superiority of do. The men about whom we have written, ground, and where they have died in the these over others, bring more to pass of a were known in this way, and a wide and upspringings and full harvest of higher strictly original character, than ibe com. useful influence was exerted by their ac- and brighter thoughts. The observation of bined suggestions, and other operations, of tions. . It is a property of such minds to be men and of nature has done the same thing all the matters of mere observation. consistent with themselves. They have An affinity, if the term be allowed, has, in Writers have been divided into various been cautious in their decisions, and what these men, subsisted between their own classes. We have spoken of two;—those is truth with them, is not unfrequently one minds and the minds of other men. And who are authors and those who are not