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This familiar Miscellany, from whichreligiousand politicalmatters are excluded, contains a varietyof originalandselected Articles; comprehending Literature, Criticism, Men and Manners, Amusement, Elegant Extracts, Poetry, Anecdotes, Biography, Meteorology, the Drama, Arts and Sciences, Wit and Satire, Fashions, Natural History, &c. &c. forming a handsome Annual Vidume, withan Index and Title-page.—Itscirculationrenders it a most eligible medium for Advertisements.

N. 265.-Vol. VI.

The Envestigator. Comprehending Political Economy, Statistics, Jurisprudence, occasional passages from Parliamentary Specches of a general nature, occasional Parliamentary Documents, and other speculative subjects, excluding Party Politics.]

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after relating a curious circumstance of an Oxford Profes sor being nonplus on the Continent for want of knowing French, and being relieved by a girl of fifteen who spoke "that our boarding school giris the language, observes, receive an education in many respects more available for the present state of society, than the learning of university graduates.'

the system, we can assure them that we have not acted upon the suggestion or solicitation of any person concerned in the seminary: they are perfect strangers to us; and we understand that they have no need of the commendation or recommendation of the public press. The school is not only uniformly full, but it is with the greatest difficulty that new pupils can gain admission at any time. MPROVED SYSTEM OF EDUCATION ESTABLISHED AT The epitome of the mode of education practised at that interesting seminary will put our readers in possession of AN EPITOME OF THE SYSTEM OF EDUCATION ESTABLISHED AT the mere outline of that singular and original system, which is marked by many peculiarities not adverted to in

HAZELWOOD SCHOOL.

The system of education established at Hazelwood School, near Birmingham, presents to the contemplation a moral phenomenon of no ordinary interest. It is one of the boldest and most original experiments ever made upon the youthful mind in any age or in any country and we feel pretty confident that its result will be to produce a frank, manly, intelligent, and patriotic race of men. In laying before our readers the following epitome of a

Since we wrote the foregoing article, we have met with paper in the Edinburgh Review, for January last, expressly on this subject, from which we make the following extract, in proof of the fact that this system works well. The Reviewer rives it as the report of a very intelligent friend, who had spected the whole of the Hazelwood establishment, of which he speaks in the following terms:-"The most striking ircumstance, perhaps, is the universal cheerfulness, and the ndly terms which they are on with the masters. I had bundant opportunity of satisfying myself that this was sinere. There was also an air of hearty attention to their

usiness, which I never saw in any other school-no langour no yawning—but all activity, and abstraction from every hing but the lesson. They all seemed to go about their work like persons who knew their business, and had no oubts about success; and the frequent changes from topic topie kept this degree of animation always afloat. The arious musterings, ringing of bells, music and marching, hich certainly in the book appear a little like trifling and of time, are in practice excellently adapted to maintain od order, and are all performed so rapidly, that, although

was quite familiar with the description, and was warned the master from time to time what was going to be done, could not, sometimes with the closest attention, follow

ese movements. In a written description, it will some

oes happen that what in fact is the work of a moment, nd must be performed in some manner at every school, cupies as much space, and is as prominently put forward, the essential instruction which these mere forms are but The preparation for. And I think it right to state, that after eeing the whole proceedings of a day, I am not aware that ny of those musterings, and other arrangements, having unctuality as their object, could be dispensed with without arm. The music consists of a band of twelve boys; their struments are the same as those used by military bands; d they play extremely well. The study of music, of drawg of fencing, and several other similar accomplishments, quite voluntary. The play hours of the boys are occupied arty in mere play, but chiefly in objects having some useful nd in view. They have a printing-press of their own, and blish a monthly magazine, embellished with etchings on opper, and lithographic prints, all executed by the boys. eports of their trials are given at length-the school displine is canvassed-accounts of the expenditure of their nds are drawn up in a business-like manner, and, in short, e whole system is a curious epitome of real life. It is tremely important to remark, that all this, being quite neral, the every-day business of their lives, produces no xcorohry amongst the boys. They are not converted, as I ad apprehended they would be, into little men. They are till boys, but boys with heads and hands fully employed on pies they like. They were all very neatly dressed, and emarkably elean and tidy-all rosy and healthy looking, nd merry as any children could be at home. The house is

the prospectus. Amongst these is the establishment of a magazine, written, edited, and printed by the scholars themselves. We shall probably avail ourselves of an early opportunity to give some extracts from this little work, of which we have been favoured with four numbers, containing compositions in prose and verse in English, and occasionally in French. There are, besides, some very clever designs, drawn, etched, and printed by the pupils. In fact, this school appears to combine the utile dulci; and we cannot conceive a greater treat for the philanthropist than a visit to Hazelwood. Before we proceed with the subjoined epitome, we shall transcribe the following passage from the Liverpool Mercury, as expressive of our opinions of the system pursued at our head colleges.

HAZELWOOD SCHOOL.

Drawn up, at the request of some teachers desirous of adopting this method, wholly or in part.

The object of the Hazelwood system of education is to

form active, intelligent, and honourable members of society. One of the principal means which have been taken to obtain this end, is the establishment of a form of government among the teachers and their pupils, by which the powers of the former and the rights of the latter are well defined, and by which a very large portion of the duties of the legislator and the judge devolves upon the pupils.

The greater this portion, the more perfect will be the system. In adopting such a system, however, perfection should not be attempted suddenly. It may be well to begin by throwing the judicial part of the burden of goWe have long been of opinion, that the system of edu-vernment upon the shoulders of the pupils, the instructor cation pursued in some of our boasted universities, was calculated rather to form pedants than philosophers and scientific men. Too much importance is often attached to literary attainments, which are rather ornamental than absolutely essential; while some useful, and even indispensible, branches of education are either imperfectly communicated or utterly neglected.†

One of the most profound scholars of the day once observed of the University students, that "their quantity of knowledge was the knowledge of quantity;" and Mr. Campbell, the great advocate of the new London University, thoroughly ventilated-their library is well arranged and catalogued. It is managed, like every thing else, exclusively by the boys. Every body is allowed to propose any book for purchase, and the name is submitted to a committee, who decide."

I

+ Extract from a letter in a late Morning Chronicle on the neglect of Professors in their duties at Oxford:—“ As I have asserted above, that the public Professors here (by public, mean in opposition to the private tutors of the several Colleges, than whom a more pains-taking and indefatigable body, generally speaking, cannot be imagined) neglect most shame fully their offices, a few observations are necessary to prove the fact. The greater number give only one lecture a Term, which they are doubtless obliged to do by the Statutes; and then, to make the farce more complete, they are, for the most part, delivered in Latin, so that so far from any pleasure being derived from the hearing of them, or instruction being obtained, it may be deemed a perfect penance to attend them; and this is the case with even some of the most useful. Of such as are delivered but once a Term, or in Latin, are the following:-Natural Philosophy, Camden's Ancient History, Poetry (in Latin!) Anglo-Saxon (in Latin!). Many, however, have not even the decency to give them at all, as the Regius Professors of Civil Law, Medicine, Greek, the Margaret Professor of Divinity, the Savilian Professor of Astronomy, the Laudian Professor of Arabic, the Vinerian Professor of Common Law, the Clinical Professor, Lord Almoner's Reader in Arabic, Aldrichian Professor of the Practice of Medicine."

enacting the laws himself. Let the next step be to render the tribunal elective at the suffrage of the boys. The master may now call a council of his leading pupils, and consult them on the framing of the laws. The council may soon become a representative body, and be gradually invested with legislative powers. The master must now, as a member of this committee, AND A MEMBER ONLY, learn to digest his proposed enactments with great care, to support them with ability, to receive with candour the suggestions of his pupils, and lastly, when he finds himself in a minority, to bear his disappointment with temper. In time, the more intelligent among the representatives will themselves frame and propose laws; but the master must not be discouraged, if years clapse before his pupils take much of the burden of the INITIATIVE.

The elections ought to recur at very short intervals; a month is a term of sufficient length. It cannot be too strongly impressed on the master, that the powers of which we have spoken, are to be surrendered bona fide. He must sedulously forbear all influence, but that of mind; if his measures are carried, it should be only because they are more ably devised or more eloquently supported than those of his pupils, and not because they are the offspring of POWER. The merit of regulating a complicated ma chine may be great; but how much greater is the praise of constructing a machine which has the capability of regulating itself!

The foregoing outline shows, though perhaps but faintly, by what means boys may be taught to govern themselves as a community. It remains to be seen how they may be led to govern themselves individually; that is, to gain habits of useful exertion and self-control; for no man is free in the true sense of the word, under whatever form of government he may live, until he is released from the power of tyrannical habits and passions. Much will be done towards this great end by the arrangements already proposed.

Such a frame of government offers inducements to those who would take a lead in the affairs of their little community, to cultivate and acquire such informa tion and manners as will make them acceptable to their fellows. The legislator must obtain confidence in his wis

dom, the judge in his probity and his knowledge of the laws, and the juror in his impartiality. Then again, the example of these public officers, holding as they do the first places in the consideration of their constituents, is naturally very powerful.

Here are generous motives offered to view; such as will continue to act when the school-boy has become a man, and they must not be counteracted by others less respectable or lasting.

vanced in their mathematical studies and in the art of
drawing, make surveys, and reduce them carefully to maps
and plans.
Such is the outline of the Hazelwood system of educa-
tion; and the teacher who may feel tempted to adopt its
plans, will at least have this security, that he will not be
drawn into the arduous, if not hopeless task, of reducing
to practice an untried theory of the closet: he may rest
assured, that scarcely any thing is here proposed but what
has been accomplished by others, and is at this moment
full and successful operation.

The great evil of the common methods of education is the harsh coercion to which the pupil is constantly sub-in jected. Blows, public disgrace, long imprisonment, heavy We cannot hope that the outline here given will suffice tasks, and scurrilous invective, these are the means but too to enable a teacher to adopt the whole of the Hazelwood ocmmonly adopted, for implanting, in the young mind, a system of education, without further information on the fondness for learning, habits of industry, virtuous princi- subject; such information, however, may be obtained from ples, honourable feelings, and a gentlemanly demeanour. a work entitled "Plans for the Government and liberal Can we wonder that such causes do not produce their Instruction of boys in large numbers," or more completely, intended effects? It is true, there must be punishments; from a visit to the school itself, which, except in the vacaat least we are afraid so; but of this we are sure, that, tions, from about the middle of June to near the end of under an enlightened system, they may be made very July, and from the middle of December to that of Jamuch less frequent and severe than can readily be con-nuary, is at all times open to the inspection of intelligent ceived by those whose experience has been confined to the visitors. usual methods of governing young people. October, 1823.

A child who is exposed to harsh discipline, cannot be operated upon by the higher motives. He is like the slave under the lash, who in time becomes almost as brutal as his master. It has been found in practice, that little punishment beyond a few light fines, is necessary to preserve a very high degree of order among a large number of boys. The boys are enabled to pay their fines thus: they have hours of leisure, in which they are induced to engage in some useful employment, by a numeration, paid in a coinage which is received in liquidation of fines, and with which they also purchase various little immunities. In the choice of occupation, each boy follows the direction of his own taste and judgment.

The Drama.

THE SPANIARDS IN DENMARK.
A COMEDY, IN THREE DAYS.

(Continued from our last.)

SCENE 2.-Saloon in the Inn of the Three Crowns. Marquis de la Romana [walking up and down with an air of anxiety; he looks at his walch). He should have By this arrangement, two great advantages are obtained; arrived here an hour ago. I cannot sit still.-Probably first, a mode is secured by which every boy may provide I may discover something from this window [opens it.] himself with a fund to meet the various calls which the No, not a boat upon the sea. As far as the sight can heedlessness and volatility of youth are sure to render reach, there is nothing to be seen but waves-still waves; necessary; and, secondly, a strong motive is furnished to not a single black speck to give me a glimmering of hope the pupil, for useful employment, at his own hours and [walks about]. They have probably been deterred by the under his own guidance; or in other words, for taking les- bad weather. On the contrary, that is the moment they sons in the invaluable arts of self-government and self-should have chosen. Even if I could be sure that they education. had not embarked. The sloop is going out to sea. Ah! I see I shall be kept in torture here another day. How ever,No matter how unfavourable the weather may be,' the Admiral says in his letter," you shall hear from me. I feel as if I were burning!-What! If, notwithstanding their passports, they should have been stopped by the coast-guards? And should they not have taken the precaution to conceal their despatches?-Oh, my head is splitting!-I should prefer a thousand times finding myself in the midst of balls on a field of battle, than shut up in a room waiting for this boat, without being able to acce. lerate its arrival a single instant.

We have not space for a detail of the methods employed in the Hazelwood system, to simplify the various branches of instruction, and render them acceptable to the pupil. The principle which has been kept in view, is, that it is always better for the pupil to LEARN than to be TAUGHT; therefore, the exertions of the instructor should be sedulously directed to induce, in the mind of the pupil, a love of knowledge, and the habits necessary to its acquisition. To accomplish this end, he will find it necessary to form a strict alliance with the WILL of his pupils. To force information upon them in opposition to their wishes, he will consider as labour worse than in vain. Not conquest, but friendship, must be the object of every endeavour.

Don Juan [behind the scenes]. Lorenzo, unsaddle the mare! The weather is too bad to let me think of going out [enters]. To the devil with this country of fogs and rain-Ah, General! I kiss your Excellency's hands. Not yet tired of looking out of that window since I quitted you. Tell me, have you reckoned how many waves there are in the Belt?

Don Juan [continuing]. It is always raining here, unless when it snows. All the women here are red-haired: never a hand's-breadth of blue in the sky, nor a little foot, nor a dark eye in the whole island. Oh! Spain, Spain! when shall I again see your basquinas, your delicate little shoes, your black eyes, sparkling like carbuncles!

Marquis pressing his hand]. Don Juan, I did not know you till now. Under this appearance of frivolity you possess the heart of a true Spaniard. It is to that heart, Don Juan, that I wish to confide a secret worthy of its sympathy. Although not loaded with chains, we are a much prisoners in this island as if shut up in an immense dungeon. Here there is a numerous army of auxiliaries watching us. At the other side of the Belt is the army

of the Prince de Ponte Corvo, which, in a few days, might join the Germans and Danes, and exterminate us. But this sea which shuts us out from our native land, this sea

Enter MADAME DE COULANGES, MADAME DE TOUR VILLE, the Host, and a Waiting-muid. DON JUAN observes them, and the Marquis goes to the window. Host. This is the assembly-room, so you will have only the lobby to cross: the most respectable families of the place meet here every evening. General la Romana occu pies at present the greater part of that wing of the house where your apartment is. You see it would be impossible to find a better frequented hotel. The noble circle of the town hold their evening parties here.

Madame de Tourville. This is quite delightful. Madame de Coulanges. Louisa, see the luggage takes to our apartments.

Madame de Tourville. I shall go with you, I wish to learn how to find my way through the house. In a bo voice to Madame de Coulanges.] Come, be firm, you are now in presence of the enemy; a good beginning is of great importance.

Madame de Coulanges. Very well-[affecting surprise] ha! but there is some one here.

Host. It is the General, of whom I spoke to you, and his first Aide-de-Camp.

Don Juan. See, your Excellency, what good fortune has fallen upon us. There are real Andalusian eyes, u I hope to be saved!

Marquis. Don Juan, come hither

Host. Most Noble Marquis, a French lady who is about to become your neighbour-Madame de Coulanges:Madame, this is General la Romana, and Colonel Don Juan Diaz.

Madame de Coulanges [to the Host]. So you undertake to procure me a servant?

Host. I shall go this instant to seek for one; excuse me for leaving you; without doubt these gentlemen will feel a pleasure

Don Juan. Madame, it is our duty, as the older lod gers, to do the honours of this poor house. Be kind enough to take a seat. It can only, Madame, be a ship. wreck that has driven you into this cursed island. For a long time back I have been praying to Heaven for one, but I did not hope it would have sent a

Madame de Coulanges. Pardon, Colonel, your prayers have not been heard, for I arrived here yesterday by the packet-boat; and, though I cannot boast of much courage, yet I had not a single moment's fear. In looking at the sea to-day, I congratulate myself at having crossed ye terday.

Marquis. Don Juan

Madame de Coulanges. And I, judging from your com pliments, should have taken you for a Parisian. You have said but three words to me, and each is a compliment must warn you that I do not like them.

The means which have been found most efficacious in producing this desirable result, are-first, to indulge the disposition inherent in man, as a gregarious animal, for Don Juan. You speak Spanish so well, Madame, that social employment. Let every study, as far as it is pracI must consider you a country woman. You have taken ticable, be followed in classes; by which plan, the master compassion upon us unfortunate exiles. will gain the collateral advantage of economizing his own Marquis. Don Juan, what do you think of this country? Madame de Coulanges. No, Sir, I am not a Spaniard, time. Let his pupils manoeuvre with military order and Don Juan. I look upon it as the anti-chamber of pur- but I have lived a considerable time in your fine country. exactness performing their various evolutions to the mu-gatory; and I hope that, in the other world, the years I Don Juan. From your excellent accent, and particusic of a band, chosen from those of their own body, who have passed here will be deducted from those during larly from the brilliancy of your eyes, and the smallnes are gifted by nature with the requisite powers for acquir- which I am destined to be roasted in expiation of my sins. of your foot, I should have sworn you were an Andalu ing the art. The spirit, the regularity, and the saving of Marquis aside. No boat can now live in the sea.-sian. Is it not so, your Excellency? should you not have time and of temper, which will flow from this arrange- I hope they have not quitted the vessel. supposed Madame was from Seville? ment, will amply reward the teacher for all his labour in drilling his young performers. The next care of the teacher should be, that the pupil is left to encounter no difficulty so great as to create disgust; and here, social study will be peculiarly advantageous, as it gives the teacher an excellent opportunity for marking the operations of the pupil's mind, and thus adapting his task to his powers. Strength and clearness in the impressions conveyed to the mind of the pupil, will have great effect in creating and enhancing his love of knowledge; and no means ought to We can be despised which promote this important end. only mention one, which is too often overlooked by teachers; and that is, to address the senses of the pupils, whenever it is practicable. Let them feel the various weights, and see the different measures, of which the writers on arithmetic make use; let their garden be stored with the plants of which they read, and their library with drawings or models of such objects of interest as cannot themselves be procured.

Finally, let the teacher omit no opportunity of showing his pupils the utility of the information which they have Bained Let those, for instance, who are sufficiently ad.

Marquis. Don Juan, is it only the black eyes and the little feet of Spain that make you desirous to return there? Don Juan. Do you wish I should speak seriously to you?

Marquis. Yes, if you were capable of entertaining a serious idea.

Don Juan. If you were not my General, I should tell
you a very grave reason for my wishing to see Spain again.
Marquis. Speak your mind freely.

Don Juan. You'll promise not to put me under arrest?
Marquis. Still, still jesting.

Don Juan. You wish for something serious? Well,
then-if I wish to return to Spain, it is for the purpose of
finding myself face to face with her oppressors; it is to
plant the standard of liberty in Gallicia; it is to die there
if I cannot live, live in freedom there.

I

Don Juan. Ah, Madame, you must pardon me; it is so long a time since I have seen a pretty woman. Marquis. Don Juan, I wish to speak with you in my own room. [Ezil Madame de Coulanges. The General appears to have something to say to you.

Don Juan. Oh! let him wait; I shall not quit a young and charming woman to go and talk of barracks and guardhouses with an old General. May we hope, Madame, to enjoy your presence for any length of time?

Madame de Coulanges. I do not know. On the death
of my husband I quitted Poland, and wait here for my
uncle, who is to join your division of the army.
Don Juan. A military man?
Madame de Coulanges. He is Colonel of dragoons.
Don Juan. And the number of his regiment?
Madame de Coulanges [aside]. I tremble. [Aloud.]
The the fourteenth, I believe

Don Juan. Ah! it is Colonel Durand, with whom I have served. But his regiment was in Holstein, and he set out some time back for Spain.

Madame de Coulanges. My uncle's name is Tourville; but he is at present, I believe, attached to the staff. He formerly commanded that regiment, or probably I mistake the number.

Don Juan. You quitted Spain before the invasionrrecting himself]-before the French entered Spain ? Madame de Coulanges. Yes, Sir.-The French are cartily detested in Spain at present.

Don Juan. Such natives as you, Madame, are loved in ewely country; and I am certain that our rebels, as you all them

[Voice behind the scenes.] They are lost! they are now in the current! Don Juan. Oh, God! some unfortunate persons suffering shipwreck ! They go to the window. Madame de Coulanges. Oh! see that boat below there, with three men in it! Heavens! what an enormous wave!

Don Juan. They will be dashed to pieces on the rocks! if aid be not given them; but it appears no one dare veu

ture.

Madame de Coulanges. Oh, if I were a man!
Don Juan. I shall go myself.

Madame de Coulanges. Stop, stop, Sir! you are run. ing to your ruin! Stop, I entreat you.

Don Juan. No, no; I cannot remain unconcerned when I see my fellow creatures in danger of perishing.

Madame de Coulanges. But you are not a sailor. Stop, In the name of Heaven! Sir; you can only perish along with them. Stop, Stop!

[She catches hold of his cloak, which Don Juan leaves in her hands, and rushes out. MARQUIS enters.] Marquis. What's the matter?-why this tumult?

Don Juan. Ah, but where is my coat? I left it behind me in your hands, like the chaste Joseph. Madame de Coulanges. Be careful of yourself.-Go and change your clothes immediately-I entreat you.

dame, Madame, come and see him bearing in his arms
the being he has saved. Is not that courage? Goes out.
Madame de Coulanges. This, then, is that Don Juan!
Miserable woman that I am! I expected to have met a
fop-and I find a hero-ah! how different is he from the
man my imagination pictured forth.
Enter DON JUAN, bearing in WALLIS in a state of in-call and know how you are?
sensibility, the MARQUIS, MADAME DE TOURVILLE,
the HOST, and WAITERS.

Don Juan. Praise to God! How I rejoice having
learned to swim!-ah! you here, Madame-may I entreat
you to give us a little room?

Host. Take care of the sofa-put this napkin under

him.

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Madame de Coulanges. I will fetch some. [Goes out. Don Juan. He must recover-he was so very short a time under water-Look, your Excellency, under this coarse waistcoat, what a fine frilled shirt -For a Norwegian fisherman, this is sufficiently elegant.

Marquis. [In a low voice.] Be silent.

Don Juan. And why so? Rub his temples at your side, and the palm of his hand-How firmly he keeps them closed upon his breast!ah, ah! a little box attached to a ribbon. This tells a love tale, or the devil run away with me.

Madame de Tourville. Let us see.

Marquis Taking the box.] Attend to the poor man! Madame de Coulanges. Alas! Sir; your Aide-de-Camp-Here it is; ah! he begins to breathe-Mother, hold up Madame de Coulanges Enters with a smelling bottle.]

Marquis. Well?

Madame de Coulanges. He rushed out-in spite of me.
Marquis. Where is he?

Madame de Coulanges. See, see him!-Alas!
Marquis. Don Juan! Don Juan!

Madame de Coulanges. Good God! What a frightful tempest!-and their boat is so small.

Marquis at the window]. Here, my brave fellows; take this purse, and hasten to stop that boat from proceeding; those in it are going to certain death-go!

Madame de Coulanges. Alas! the danger is so great, that they dare not accept it on that condition.

Marquis. How, cowards!-Will you let your comrades thus perish in your sight? Ah! my eyes grow dim; I can no longer distinguish any thing: tell me, do you still

see him?

Madame de Coulanges. Yes, still-they are now bent down upon their oars.

Marquis. Great God! will you let him fall a victim to his generosity?

Madame de Coulanges. Ah! they are now covered by the waves-Mercy, mercy!

Marquis. No. Don Juan's boat is still visible-but the others

Madame de Coulanges. I cannot tear myself away from this frightful spectacle, though it kills me.

Marquis. Heavens! he has disappeared!
Madame de Coulanges. I can no longer see his red sash!
Marquis. Unfortunate! What can I say to his mother?
Madame de Coulanges. My eyes are blinded with tears
every thing appears to turn round. [She falls upon the

window seat.

his head.

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Don Juan. Here, swallow this cordial. Marquis. Let him be put into the bed of Pedro, my valet.

Don Juan [To Madame Coulanges.] Look, Madame, upon this poor sailor-you see in him the model of lovers -He kept closely prest to his breast a little box, which the Marquis has just taken, and which contains the portrait of a woman that his Excellency is going to show to us. Marquis. Don Juan, you should have a little more respect for the secrets of the young man.

he must let me see, some day or other, whether she is Don Juan. Ah, so be it; but for the trouble I have had, pretty or not.

Wallis. Where is he who saved me?
All. There he is.

Wallis. Give me your hand, Sir.

Don Juan. Come, comrade, try and get a little sleep; and afterwards, to make you forget all the salt water you have drunk, I shall make you empty a bottle of genuine Sherry, that shall put the life-blood into your heart again. Wallis is led out, accompanied by all except Don Juan and Madame de Coulanges.

Madame de Coulanges. Sir-Oh Sir! howDon Juan. I would give I know not how much to see that portrait,

Marquis. He is dead! he is dead! Ah! his poor mo-
ther, who confided him to me. [He runs about like a
adman. After a few moments cries are heard from be-
hind the scenes] There they are! there they are!
Marquis. They are saved!-I see him !-Don Juan!-press my admiration?
Don Juan!-Madame-he is saved!

Madame de Coulanges. How!-Is he not dead?
Marquis. There is their boat! they have picked up the
men belonging to the other-one effort more, Don Juan!
Madame de Coulanges. Waving her handkerchief.
Courage, brave young man! You were not destined to

die here!

Marquis. Hold fast the rudder, Don Juan. One wave more-courage!

Madame de Coulanges. Ah! I can bear no more. Throws herself upon a sofa. Marquis. Don Juan Don Juan! [Cries from behind the cene. They are saved!

Marquis. Good-this one breaker more-it is the lastVictory they reach the shore-I shall die of joy !-Ma

The tragic death of the brave and unfortunata Porlier is kowa to every QUO.

Madame de Coulanges. How shall I find words to ex

Don Juan. It is quite uncalled for-nothing was more simple for any one who could swim so well as I do any one in my place would have done as much; but what is really singular is, that I never dived so well before. What extraordinary force one finds in moments like these. Madame de Coulanges. Oh Sir, Sir!-I cannot speak as I would wish. I-I-Let me embrace you.

Don Juan. God be praised! I wish there was a shipwreck every day in the year under my windows. But apropos, Madame, there were three persons in the boat we brought ashore.

Madame de Coulanges. [Embracing him again.] There -and again.-Oh I am a silly wretch,-but never in my life have I been so affected. She weeps. Don Juan. What is the matter? You alarm meYou have become paler than our drowned man.

Madame de Coulanges. Oh Sir,-it is nothing.-But I cannot keep myself from weeping.-Fool that I am!

Don Juan. First permit me to conduct you to your apartment;-and may I beg to be allowed afterwards to

Madame de Coulanges. Oh yes! Sir.-At all times. [She goes out, leaning upon Don Juan's arm, with her handkerchief to her eyes.

Don Juan. [Re-entering alone.] Here is an intrigue well begun.-A man drawn out of the water, and a secret to learn. This certainly is something to make the day pass agreeably. She is a devilish pretty woman though, and appears to have an excellent disposition.-There is nothing I love so much as your frank and sincere people who carry their hearts upon their lips. Oh, faith, it is time for me to change, for I feel the cold beginning to strike.

[He is going out when the Marquis enters. Marquis. We are now alone, Don Juan. You are a brave Spaniard, and I will open my heart to you. Don Juan. Speak, General, I am frying with impatience [aside] and dying with cold. Marquis. Do know whom you have saved? Don Juan. A fisherman-probably a smuggler! Marquis. An English officer, the Lieutenant of the Royal George, sent by the Admiral on the station, with whom I have been in correspondence for some time back.

you

Don Juan. I understand-bravo-I see it all-by St. Jago, this is delightful! And this honest Admiral will whisk us out of this devil of an island!

Marquis. And take us back to old Spain. Don Juan. Spain! Oh, my beloved country, I shall then again see you!

Marquis. And defend her, Don Juan!

Don Juan. And die for her! for liberty! Oh, death the devil shall we spirit away our division? will appear sweet to me upon the soil of Spain! But how

Marquis. All my soldiers will follow me,-every thing is arranged, the English fleet will cast anchor in the bay before the Prince can run hither with his Frenchmen to hinder our design.

Don Juan. As to the foreigners who govern the island with us

Marquis. We have arms in our hands.

Don Juan. And shall make use of them.-Viva.-But, confusion, this project interferes a little with my new made conquest.

Marquis. Is it possible, Don Juan, that you can harbour such ideas in such a moment?

Don Juan. And why not? The country first, and afterwards, a little love by way of recreation.

Marquis. Smiling.] You are a mad-cap, but a brave fellow, and in a short time I shall put your zeal to the proof.

Don Juan. That is all I ask.-You shall see that though I am sometimes too much given to laughter, yet never shall I forget my honour or my country for a flirtation.

Marquis. I am sure of it, my gallant boy.-Recollect, that if the winds do not change in a few days, we shall have quitted our prison.

Don Juan. You transport me with joy.-Apropos, how fares the Englishman?

Marquis. Thanks to you, he has been enabled to give me some useful information. You must accompany him on board, and bring me back the Admiral's final instructions.

Don Juan. Dispose of me as you think proper. It was without doubt the Admiral's letters that he had hung round his neck, like his mistress's portrait.

Marquis. Precisely.—And yet you wished me to show them!

Don Juan. Poor devil.-He held them fast locked in his hands, even after he had become insensible.-Did you remark, the first word he uttered was an inquiry after his box?

Marquis. And this brave fellow exposed himself to an ignominious death, to secure the success of an enterprize that interests his country but in a very trifling degree. With what ardour ought we not to be inflamed, who are going to avenge our country so basely betrayed! We who are going to fight for all that is dear to men of honour! Don Juan. I hope we shall make ourselves talked of one day or another.

Marquis. Of what consequence is it that posterity should forget our names, provided it feels the effects of our generous efforts.-Don Juan, let the good you do be for its own sake.-If, afterwards, Heaven should send us an Homer, let us be grateful.

END OF THE FIRST DAY.

(To be continued)

Poetry.

Although the following ode was published in the Monthly Magazine in the year 1797, we conceive ourselves justified in claiming it as original in the Kaleidoscope, for a reason which we shall explain. It was written by an amiable and excellent young gentleman, of this town, beloved by all who knew him, for the simplicity of his manners, the goodness of his heart, and his enthusiastic love of science, to which he fell prematurely a sacrifice.He was very young when he wrote this ode, which he sent to the editor of the Monthly Magazine, with the name of William Smith, Liverpool, April 6, 1797, affixed to it.The editor, erroneously ascribing it to Mr. William Sinythe, of Liverpool, author of English Lyrics, who was a well known contributor to his magazine, accordingly gives it in the 4th volume of that work, under the name of William Smythe. The real author never claimed it ; although in a review of the works of William Smythe, which appeared soon afterwards, this very ode to the Skylark was very favourably mentioned.

ODE TO THE SKY-LARK.

Sweetest warbler of the skies,
Soon as morning's purple dyes
O'er the eastern mountains float,
Waken'd by thy merry note,
Thro' the fields of yellow corn,
That Mersey's winding banks adorn,
Or green meads I gaily pass,
And lightly brush the dewy grass.

I love to hear thy matin lay
And warbling wild notes die away;

I love to mark thy upward flight,
And see thee lessen from my sight:
Then, ended thy sweet madrigal,
Sudden, swift, I see thee fall,

With wearied wing, and beating breast,
Near thy chirping younglings' nest.

Ah! who that hears thee carol free
Those found notes of liberty,
And sees thee, independent, soar,
With gladsome wing, the blue sky o'er,
In wiry cage would thee restrain,
To pant for liberty in vain!

And see thee 'gainst thy prison grate
Thy little wings indignant beat,
And peck and flutter round and round
Thy narrow, lonely, hated bound,
And yet not ope thy prison door,
To give thee liberty once more!

None! none! but he whose vicious eys
The charms of nature can't enjoy ;
Who dozes those sweet hours away
When thou begin'st thy merry lay:
And since his lazy limbs refuse

To tread the meadow's morning dews,
And there thy early wild notes hear,
He keeps thee lonely prisoner.
Not such am I, sweet warbler; no,
For should thy strains as sweetly flow,
As sweetly flow, as gaily sound,
Within thy prison's wiry bound,
As when thou soar'st with lover's pride,
And pour'st thy wild notes far and wide,
Yet still depriv'd of every scene,
The yellow lawn, the meadow green,
The hawthorn bush besprink't with dew,
The skyey lake, the mountain blue,

Not half the charms thoud'st have for me,
As ranging wide at liberty.

Liverpool, April 6, 1797.

ΤΟ

The lyre which now I tune to thee

For many a year neglected hung,
Forgotten as it well might be,

Each chord was broken or unstrung;
And if, perchance, some idle hour,

I secretly essayed its power,

So harsh and jarring seem'd to me

The sounds it gave, there ne'er could be
A ruder piece of minstrelsy:
And as I ne'er could hope to bring
Its rough tones into harmony,
Methought 'twere better far to fling
Such weak and tuneless lyre away.
Yet once, all tremblingly, I brought
That lyre, and tun'd it at thy bower,
And whether it that moment caught

A portion of melodious power,
More than ere then had mark'd its flow,
Or whether 'twas thy charms that fir'd,
And bid me then more boldly throw
My hand its wilder'd chords along,
I know not, but I felt inspired;

Its tones appeared more full and strong;
Proudly I tun'd its chords to song;
And as thou kindly seem'd to be
Pleas'd with its humble melody,
And lighten'd by thy cheering smile
The minstrel's fears, the minstrel's toil,
I vow'd my little lyre should be
Thenceforward dedicate to thee.
Thou first call'd forth its master tone,
Its cords vibrate for thee alone;
And, though 'tis but a lowly one,
Yet still, perchance, it may have power
To while away the lonesome hour.
Liverpool, July 18, 1825.

AMATOR.

THE EDITOR AND HIS SATURDAY PAPER.

[Imitated from the German of Körner.]

"Thou offspring of my fertile brain,
Embryo of patience, toil, and pain,
Why dost thou growl in angry strain
And filthy words? Hurrah!"

"A penman base attacks my fame,
A witless cur assails my name,
On him I'll hurl dismay and shame

For ages hence. Hurrah!" "Who is it moves thy deadly fre? What fills thy gentle breast with fire? Why do the furies thee inspire, Child of my soul? Hurrah!" "A sever'd, in bright disguise, Assassin-like, before my eyes, Flits, as a meteor, through the skies, In bloody blaze. Hurrah!" "Oh! fear not thou that typic paw, 'Twas but a harmless shade you saw, There is no dagger in that claw

To scare thee thus. Hurrah!" "Oh! think not so. I saw the hand Hold in its grasp a blazing brand;

It wav'd it o'er me; but I'll stand

Its fiery wrath. Hurrah!"
"Brave! my friend, I still am thine;
Again my matchless pen shall shine
To shield thee: for thy glory's mine-
My only hope. Hurrah!"

"Then let me forth to crush the knave, That would o'erwhelm the wise and brave, I long to stifle in the grave

WILLIAM SMITH.

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A DISCOURSE,

DELIVERED BY A COLLEGE TUTOR AT A SUPPER PARTY,

JULY 1, 1825.

[From the Morning Chronicle.]

Ye Dons and ye Doctors, ye Provosts and Proctors,
Who are paid to monopolize knowledge,
Come, make opposition, by vote and petition,

To the radical infidel College;

Come, put forth your powers, in aid of the towers,
Which boast of their Bishops and Martyrs;
And arm all the terrors of privileged errors,
Which live by the wax of their charters.
Let MACKINTOSH battle with CANNING and V,
Let BROUGHAM be a friend to the Niggers,
BURDETT Cure the nation's misrepresentations,
And HUME make a figure in figures;
But let them not babble of Greek to the rabble,
Nor teach the mechanics their letters;
The labouring classes were born to be asses,
And not to be aping their betters.

'Tis a terrible crisis for CAM and for Isis;
Fat butchers are learning dissection;

And looking-glass makers become sabbath-breakers To study the rules of reflection;

Sin P, and sin.

no sin can be sweeter,

Are taught to the poor of both sexes,

And weavers and spinners jump up from their dinners
To flirt with their y's and their x's.

Chuckfarthing advances the doctrine of chances,
In spite of the staff of the beadle;

And menders of breeches, between the long stitches
Write books on the laws of the needle;

And chandlers all chatter of luminous matter,
Who communicate none to their tallows;
And rogues get a notion of the pendulum's motion
Which is only of use at the gallows.

The impurest of Attics read pure Mathematics,
The gin-shops are turn'd into cloisters;

A CRAWFORD next summer will fill you your rummer,
A COPLESTONE open your oysters:

The bells of Old Bailey are practising gaily
The erudite tones of St. Mary's;

The Minories any day will rear a KENNEDY,
And Bishopsgate blossom with AIRY'S.

The nature of granites, the tricks of the planets,
The forces of steams and of gases,

The engines mechanical, the long words botanical,
The ranging of beetles in classes,

The delicate junctions of symbols and functions,
The impossible roots of equations→→

Are these proper questions for Cockney digestions,
Fit food for a Cit's lucubrations?

The eloquent pages of time-hallowed sages,
Embalmed by some critical German,

Old presents from BRUCKIUS, new features from MoNCIUS,
The squabbles of PORSON with HERMANN;

Your Alphas and Betas, your Canons of Metres,

Your infinite powers of Particles,

Shall these and such like work, make journeymen strike work, And 'prentices tear up their articles?

But oh, since fair Science will cruelly fly hence,

To smile upon vagrants and gipsies,

Since knights of the hammer must handle their grammar,

And nightmen account for eclipses,

Our handicraft neighbours shall share in our labours,

If they leave us the whole of the honey;

And the sansculotte catiff shall start for the plate, if
He puts in no claim to plate-money.*

Ye Halls on whose Dais the Don of to-day is
To feed on the beef and the benison,

Ye Common-room glories, where beneficed Tories
Digest their belief and their venison,

Ye duels scholastic, where quibbles monastic

Are asserted with none to confute them,

Ye grave Congregations, where frequent taxations

Are settled with none to dispute them;

Far hence be the season, when radical treason
Of port and of puddings shall bilk ye;

When the weavers aforesaid shall taste of our boar's-head,
The silk-winders swallow our silky;

When the mob shall eat faster than any Vice-Master,
The watermen try to out-tope us;

When CAMPBELL shall dish up a bowl of our Bishop,
Or BROUGHAM and Co. cope with our Copus !

Plate-money-a contribution paid by young men of rank and fortune, for the supposed purpose of reinforcing the College Plate.

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CONTEMPORARY LITERATURE.

NO. IX.

mighty) tan upon de top, and debble (devil) on de bottom; pose he do bad, he go to dat place call him hell, where he mut burn like de pepper-cod; he call fo drink ob a wara; nobody give him drop to cool he dam tongue.'

Antiquities.

GOSPEL IN BRITAIN.

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MECHANICS' MAGAZINE. Volumes I. II. III. each in
boards, illustrated by several hundred engravings.
This meritorious publication, so truly designated by
Dr. Birkbeck as "the most valuable gift which the hand
of science ever presented to the artisan," continues to
maintain the same high character for originality and use-
fulness which gained for it all at once so unexampled a ON THE PROBABILITY OF ST. PAUL PREACHING THE
circulation. It was the "Mechanics' Magazine" which
first proposed to teach science to mechanics; and invited
mechanics to lend their aid to men of science. It chose
for its labours an extensive field of original and valuable
talent, which had hitherto yielded little or nothing; be-
cause neither was that talent properly cherished, nor any
means taken of gathering in its fruits when ripe. It made
its appeal to the intellectual energy of the Mechanics of
Great Britain and Ireland, and so promptly and ably has
that appeal been answered, that we may safely assert, there
is a larger portion of new matter from new thinkers in the
three volumes of the Mechanics' Magazine now before
the public, than is to be found in any other publication of
the present times.

The Editor states, in the preface to his third volume, (which is embellished with a very striking likeness of Mr. Brougham, admirably engraved on steel) that "the approbation bestowed on his labours has not been confined to any one class of men in the country;" for that men of all parties, including "the very foremost in station as well as in talent," have borne flattering testimony that the "Mechanics' Magazine" has done the state some service." We have heard that among those of "foremost station" who have approved it most, are the Secretary of State for the Home Department, and the President of the Board of Trade-nothing less, indeed, was to be expected from men of their enlightened views, and from such patrons as they have shown themselves of the arts of peace, which it is the pride of this work to promote.

This deservedly popular Work is continued in Weekly Numbers and Monthly Parts, and we feel pleasure in expressing our wishes for its lasting and increasing circulation.

Chit Chat.

Mental Reservation.-Although the lower orders of the
Irish are famous for a species of ready wit, mingling vo-
latility and a rich vein of humour, they are no less mark-
ed by a quaintness of expression and a mental reservation,
calculated to gain time and evade inquiry, or having that
brought home to them which they wish to avoid: of this
last complexion is Shelah's answers to a county Magistrate.
"What's gone of your husband, Shelah ?"-"What's
gone of him, your honour's worship; faith, and he's gone
dead."-" Ay, pray what did he die of ?"-" Die of,
your honour; he died of a Tuesday."-"I don't mean
what day of the week, but what complaint."-"Oh! com-
plaint, your honour; faith and its himself did not get time
to complain."-Oh, oh! ay, he died suddenly"-" Ra-
ther that way, your worship."-" Did he fall down in a
fit ?" (No answer from Shelah.) He fell down in a fit,
perhaps?"" A fit, your honour's worship; why, no,
not exactly that, he, he fell out of a window, or a door, I
don't know what they call it."-"Ay, ay; and he broke
his neck."." No; not quite that, your worship."
"What then?"-" There was a bit of string, or cord, or
that like, and it throttled poor Mick."-" And pray for
what did he suffer?"-" Suffer, your worship (weeping)
faith, only for embellishing (embezzling) a trifle that he
taught was his own, but his master said it was not, and so
they swore away his precious life, and that's all; for Mick's
as innocent as the babe unborn."

The following advertisement appears in a daily paper,
dated from a green-shop.-Who shall say that the age is

not refined ?

"Friendship.-The writer, who has just passed 40, and has but a few years to live, in the blaze of passion of feel ing, would fain taste all that he conceives possible of pure and ardent friendship. He can attach himself only to mind, refined by education and the best society-birth and fortune are disregarded by him, though possessed of the advantages of both; he would not cultivate the friendship of one, who, being without them, should be allured to him by the attractions of either."

Extract of a sermon preached by Sam Quaco, a black ob woman, hab no long time to lib; he trouble ebery day clergyman, and native of Jamaica :-"A man dat's bon too much; he grow up like a plaintain; he cut down like a banana. Pose de man do good, he get good; pose de man do bad, he get bad; pose he do good, he go dat place call him glorio (glory) where Gor-a-mity (God Al

In the fifth volume of the Kaleidoscope, page 421, we published an interesting article, under the head" Valuable Historical Antique." The object of the writer was to show that St. Paul had actually preached in Wales, in the year 48 after Christ. The fact is recorded upon a Pyramidal stone, of prodigious magnitude, the shape and inscription of which is represented in the annexed engraving, for the loan of which we have to make an acknowledgment to the proprietor of the Carnarvon Journal, from which the following additional particulars are copied :

"We have been favoured with another and more correct fac simile of the inscription on the Tablet found in the parish of Mothvey, relative to St. Paul's preaching on that spot, and the interest of the subject, and the historical fact it illustrates will, we trust, apologize for our presenting it to our readers, and offering a few additional remarks.

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There are on the tablet, as our readers will perceive, two
inscriptions, one referring to the preaching of St. Paul,"
and the other to the martyrdom and sepulture of Elim ap
Owen Goch, and they are separated from each other by
a line. From a comparison of the numeral characters
of each, we are inclined to think that they were inscribed
at different periods; the latter is dated in modern figures,
such as are used in the present day, and the former in
ancient characters; an evidence, we think, decisive of the.
greater antiquity of the former. There is some doubt
about the precise time indicated in the first inscription;
but we are of opinion, that the horizontal line drawn over
the L, deducts ten from the number it signifies in its
simple state, in which case it will indicate the year of our
Lord 58. If this hypothesis be correct, the date will be
found to tally precisely with the period assigned to Ca-
ractacus's return from Rome, whom, it is supposed, St.
Paul accompanied over to Britain. This is the opinion
of our worthy and learned Diocesan on the subject, as
expressed in a letter which he andressed to his clergy, in
the Rock of the Christian Church," a work exhibiting
the year 1812, under the title of Christ, not St. Paul,
extensive research, and from the perusal of which we rose
with much satisfaction, and any person who feels an in-
terest in the elucidation of this question, "did St. Paul
preach the Gospel in Britain 8" will find himself amply

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