Travelling.

J. Rousseau, speaking of travelling, says, "In England the middle ranks of life stay at home, and the rich and the noble travel into various countries on the contrary, in France the nobles and opulent reside in their own country." The reason he gives for this difference carries with it full conviction of the truth of these observations, viz. "The French travel in order to enrich themselves, and the English to get rid of their money."

Education.

Though much brilliant theory exists on this very important subject, yet how little is founded in useful practice. I will instance this defect by the two elementary parts of education-reading and writing. How few persons however accomplished in other particulars, read intelligibly or write legibly. In neither of our Universities is the useful art of elocution taught; and at the bar, and the pulpit, how few tolerable speakers are to be found: ranters, gallopers, mumblers, seem to divide the species of public speakers; and some ecclesiastical orators, by appearing to separate word from word, and giving each an equal force of accent, seem to read always in italics.

Strong Impulses

Are necessary to some minds to bring forth their energies, and to counteract the predominancy of the "vis inertia" in their constitutions. The fear of a jail has confined many an author to his study that nothing else could; and many a writer, from the pressure of calamity, (like the toad under the harrow,) has made those exertions that a more desirable situation would never have suggested. It is said that the Eider, an Iceland bird, produces most eggs in stormy weather.

Elegant Allusions.

In that admirably witty poem, called the 'Spleen," written by Matthew Green, of the Custom House, many very happy allusions are to be discovered. Speaking of exercise as a destroyer of "ennui," he says, in allusion to David and Goliah,

Throw but a stone, the giant dies.

And when he mentions his attachment to a newspaper, how elegantly he praises his favourite reading

And news, the manna of the day.

M. Prior, in one of his light poems, describes the laudable ambition of posthumous fame very elegantly-

And in life's visit leave your name,

Youth and Age.

In our younger days, it is our most prudent way not to be too fond of the world; and, in our latter years, not to dislike it too much, and to fly from it. He who is carried away by the eddies which the hurrying pleasures of the world produce around him, may sink in the whirlpool, and yet by good luck escape often; but the hermit, who in disgust with the world, and a slave to misanthropy, throws himself into solitude, dies by inches amidst his own self-tormenting thoughts, from which he can by no lucky chance escape, or turn the strong stream of melancholy from overwhelming him in its fathomless abyss.

Quizzing.

This modern and fashionable sport of words and jests, though upon the attackable foibles of one another, is a dangerous game. It begins in joke, and ends too often in earnest, especially where there are too great inequalities of rank or talent among the sparrers. I would especially advise young ladies never to touch this harlequin's wand: their tender frames are as little capable of bearing a bruise, as they are of suffering the infliction of a wound. Females would be in a very awkward predicament, should they have taken liberties

with a rude, a vain, and sour-tempered man, and committed themselves to this horse-play raillery, as Dryden calls it.

Melody of Versification.

Milton, who had a great taste for musical sounds, knew that a variety in the pauses of a line was as necessary as a correct measure of the verse, to please the ear of the reader. Blank verse would be extremely heavy and unmelodious, did the same pauses, as in Pope's versification, pervade every line; but Pope was known to have had no ear for music. Dryden has shewn, by the variety of his pauses, that he knew that tones, however agreeable, weary by their sameness; and that monotony is the death of all melody. A modern poet has given us very agreeable specimens of variety of pauses, being himself not only an amateur in music, but possessed of considerable skill in this delightful art. The following lines, that immediately occur, will exemplify the goodness of his ear.

ON LOCKSWell SprinG.

Pure Fount, that welling from this airy hill,
Dost wander forth into this nether vale,
Thou to the passenger dost tell no tale
Of other years, but thus continuing still
Thy secret way, alone unnotic'd rill,
And almost silent as the clouds that sail

Above thee, calm and reckless of the noise.

The changing world may keep, dost onward glide.
But couldst thou speak to the grey clouds that ride
High on thy lowly track, or hadst a voice
Like him, the Preacher in the Wilderness;
Yet thou shouldst say to all, that mortal pride
Fleets like the passing rack, but not the fess,
Wisdon and virtue shall like thee abide, &c.

W. L. Bowles.

Birds in Cages.

It is proverbially said of young persons who have favourite animals under their care, that they kill them with kindness. When grown up persons take this turn of being patrons of animals, they ought to be told that their habits are not those of the creatures they wish to make happy, and from this error, that what they think sport may be death to their adopted favourites. They would then cease to be jailors, and invite them to their gardens and groves, where the creatures may enjoy their liberty, and indulge in those habits which nature has made the foundation of their happiness. To young persons who use themselves to murder whatever animal they can catch, the following lines should be well known

Poor harmless fly!

That with his pretty buzzing melody,

Came here to make us merry; and thou hast kill'd him.

Titus Andronicus, act iii. scene 2.