it; that beauty may appear to us its leading character, only because we are never brought so close to it as to be within the range of its more direct and abiding influences; and that the very qualities to which it is indebted for the admiration it excites in us who stand afar off, or only occasionally approach it, may be the immediate source of a great deal that is most painful and uncomfortable to those with whom it is a necessity to be always in its near neighbourhood. The military achievements of a nation, for example how ample a space do they not fill in its history! how largely do they not contribute to make up the estimate which we form of its character! The leaders of its armies are celebrated by poets and orators as its greatest men, as, of all others, the most worthy of having their names handed down with praise to posterity, and of being remembered with gratitude to distant ages. And yet, of the millions who constitute the nation, how small is the proportion to whom the most brilliant of these achievements have brought either advantage or enjoyment, or even the fantastic and unsubstantial gratification which arises from the contemplation of national glory! National glory is a ray which gilds only the clevated pinnacles of society; it penetrates not to the lowly region in which the great masses of mankind move. To them the splendours of war are only known in the loss of sons, brothers, fathers, and husbands, and in the added weight of an intolerable taxation, which lays its ruthless hand upon every crust of bread they cat, upon every rag which covers them, upon the roof which shelters them from the winter's cold, upon the fire which warms their shivering limbs, upon the light which struggles through their dim and dusty casements. May not these, with truth, apply to all that can be said of the imposing splendours of war, that it has been to them but as the nasty hills which bring down the rain?" Or, to take a more familiar illustration. There are men of rare and rich endowment, who seem formed to be the delight of every circle into which they enter who, alike in the courtly saloon or the snug reunion of choice spirits at the club, attract towards themselves, by an irresistible fascination, the most distinguished for wit, intelligence, and accomplishment, causing them to press emulously around them, and leave them with regret and reluctance; for whom the fairest and loveliest hoard their sweetest smiles, and with whose society the greatest in the land are proud to have their tables graced. Who would not look with envy upon those who enjoy the privilege of constant association with such men, of having every, the most minute, incident of daily life illumined, and tinged with all the prismatic hues of grace and beauty, by the bright beams of such a sun? And yet, is it not often the case, that there is just one place where that laugh is never heard that there is one loving, wistful, anxious countenance, towards which the bright glances of that eye are never turned? that the idol of every circle, the magic spirit who throws his fascination around him wherever he moves, becomes disenchanted as he crosses one threshhold-and that threshhold his own? that there he, who is so full of life and gaiety, witty, eloquent, graceful, tender, becomes silent, fretful, ennuyé-it may be, harsh and unfeeling? With how much justice may not the poor, neglected, broken-hearted wife curse those very attractions which are so delightful to all the world besides, but which, as having created that distaste for home and its quiet enjoyments, the effects of which she feels so deeply, are to her, in literal truth, the nasty hills that bring down the rain-bring it down in many a shower of bitter and unavailing tears! The evil most to be guarded against by those who have it in their power to determine the arrangements of society, is the permitting any one class to feel that the pleasures and advantages of another bring only suffering and discomfort to them. There is no circumstance in our social condition, which can be said, strictly But it speaking, to be altogether a gain; no good which we can The tendency of every social system whatever, when left to its own uncorrected action, is this result. A preponderance of advantage, enjoyed at first by accident, gives superiority of power, and that again draws to its possessor a larger share of the advantage from which it has flowed. So the two, alternately cause and effect, continue acting upon and enlarging each other. The strong tend constantly to become stronger, the weak to become weaker. It is for this reason, and to correct this tendency, that periodical reforms, attended with more or less violence, become a kind of necessity, a sanatory discipline necessary to restore the equilibrium of the system, and prevent its utter dissolution. The more regularly and uniformly we take care to act in counteraction of the morbid tendency, the less occasion will there be for violent and painful remedies. It is only when the tendency is left to itself unchecked for so long that it at last becomes unbearable,-when the equipoise is so entirely disturbed that the motion of the social machine is impeded, and threatens to stop,-that the cure becomes violent and dangerous. When the great men of the world have been heedlessly and selfishly adding gratification to gratification, without casting a thought upon the influence these exercise on the comfort of those beneath them,-then, when at length the good of the former comes in the belief and experience of the latter to be identified with their own evil,-when they feel that all that gives grace, and elegance, and beauty to the upper regions of society, is to them as the "nasty hills which bring down the rain,”—then, indeed, may we fear for the result of the struggle to bring things right, and apprehend that the throes of nature, in putting forth her vis medicatrix, may be too much for the vitality of the system. On the other hand, let there be a constant shifting of the ballast, as it leans over to one side; a continual care bestowed to mix the good and evil of life to all classes, with as much equality as the differences in their circumstances will admit of: let it be caused to be felt, that what brings good to some brings good to all, and what injures some injures all; and we may safely leave society, with all its machinery of wheels and balances, to take care of itself, secure that it is safe at least from all internal sources of decay. REMARKS ON THE CHURCH ARCHITECTURE OF ENGLAND. No. II. WE now come to speak of the first style of Christian architecture, properly so called, which was used in England. This style has been appropriately called the Early English: it prevailed generally throughout the 13th century, that is to say, from the death of King Richard Coeur de Lion, through the reigns of King John, of Henry III., and Edward I. It is distinguished most prominently from the preceding styles, by the round-headed arch and its peculiar mouldings being entirely disused. Henceforward we have, there bold and prominent appearance, having deep hollows, in which an ornament, called the tooth ornament, is frequently inserted. The doorways of this style are very elegant: they usually consist of a single slender shaft on each side, with capitals in the shape of bells reversed; from these spring a few bold mouldings, or a simple line of tooth ornament, having a hood-moulding over it. In large churches, we meet with doorways divided into two by a single or clustered shaft in the middle, and the two arches thus formed are inclosed within a larger arch, the space between being filled up with sculptured work. Porches become more usual in this style: they are large, and have high-pitched and vaulted roofs. We have now quite left the heavy, massive piers of the Norman style, and, instead of fore, to do with pointed arches; for the exceptions to this rule are few. There were three kinds of pointed arch used in this style: first, the lancet; secondly, the equilateral; and thirdly, the obtuse. Of these, the lancet and the equilateral were most used for large buildings, (as at Westminster Abbey the lancet prevails, at Salisbury the equilateral;) but in small country churches the obtuse-angle arch is most frequently found. The mouldings assume a Gothic," a name given in error; it had nothing to do with (1) the Goths. POINTED TREFOIL ARCH. SQUARE HEADED TREFOIL ARCH. them, we have the piers in large buildings composed of one column, surrounded by slender shafts detached, but uniting in one capital above, as at Salisbury; or again, clustered close together, as in the chapel called the Dean's Chapel, in Oxford cathedral, and at Lincoln. In the smaller churches, a plain octagonal or circular pier was used, as at Boxgrove; but, as these piers were used also in later styles, they are only to be distinguished by the mouldings and ornaments of the capitals and bases. As we hinted above, the usual form of early Eng lish capitals is the reversed bell-shape, having | of a church was also introduced in this style, viz. round the lower part a small head-moulding; the the steeple or spire. The Normans never atcapping, or top part of the capital, consists of one tempted anything more than a low, square, pyraor more round mouldings, with deep recesses be- midal capping; but now this was raised into the tween them. The capital is often decorated with a noble spire, which crowns so many of our parish kind of foliage peculiar to this style: the stems rise from the neck or lower part of the capital, the leaves curl gracefully under the upper mouldings; they are very boldly sculptured, and stand completely off the surface of the capital. In smaller churches the capitals are often round, with a small nail-head moulding, or have as many angles as the pier which they crown. The lancet window, which is so much used in this style, is often quite simple, having no kind of moulding; but it is sometimes found, in the same simplicity, repeated (in the east end of a church) three times, the centre one being higher than the side ones, and all three combined by a simple hood-line above them, as at Stanton Harcourt, Oxon. Sometimes two or three which stand apart on the outside are combined inside into one window, by wide splaying interiorly, and by the intervention of slender detached shafts, as at Salisbury cathedral. In this style appear the first specimens of tracery (that is, stone divisions) in the heads or upper parts of windows. The first hint of it (so to speak) seems given in such windows as that at Brounsover church, Warwickshire; but the first specimens deserving the name of tracery are such windows as that at the east end of St. Giles', Oxford, which is formed of three lancet-shaped divisions below, and the head filled in with three circles, having foliations in them. This sort of window occurs late in the early-English style, and forms a sort of link or connexion between the simple lancet window, and the windows (of the next style) which we call geometrical. The mouldings of this style are, as I observed, very bold, and give an alternation of prominent roll-shaped lines, with deep hollows between them. The buttresses in this style are either narrow ones, of slender proportions, with a pediment or gable at the top, as at Beverley Minster, or else plain ones, with stages or slopes. Flying buttresses, as they are called, were also now first introduced, and, with other such contrivances, rendered the old fashion of massive walls no longer necessary; hence the masonry of this style is usually much less bulky than that used in the Norman buildings. One very important part resemble leaves or flowers. In this style they have a simple, but bold appearance, as at Lincoln and at Salisbury cathedrals. It will be well to mention a few of the most known buildings in this style. Salisbury Cathedral is, perhaps, the most perfect specimen of it in its early state. It was built by the munificent bishop Poore, between the years A.D. 1220 and 1260: the windows here are, for the most part, of the narrow lancet shape. The nave and transepts of Westminster Abbey, commenced in the year 1245, exhibit the style in a more advanced state; while Lincoln Cathedral is a fine specimen of its latest period. The west front of Wells Cathedral, built by the munificence of Bishop Joceline between the years 1213 and 1239, exhibits some | sometimes of the same shape, or else of a different fine specimens of the statuary of this period. At the end of the 13th century, during the reign of Edward I., the early-English style began to lose its simplicity, and gradually became so much altered, that in the course of fifteen or twenty years, we are fain to give up the name altogether, and to call the altered style by a new one. The name chosen for this style, which crept in thus gradually, is one which expresses the nature of it-it is called the decorated style. It lasted about a century. It one, as at Hanwell and Chacombe churches. The capitals in large churches are often richly decorated with elegant sculpture, of a more delicate and less prominent kind than that used in early-English. Fine specimens occur at York Cathedral. In this style also we begin to find the pier mouldings running up into the arches, without any capital intervening, as at Rasley, Warwickshire. The bases of piers differ chiefly from those of the early-English style, by having the deep hol is, indeed, we think, the most beautiful style of architecture that England ever saw; and, though some have thought its profuseness and variety of ornament unpleasing, after the chaste severity of the early-English, we must say, that we look upon it as the first complete style in Christian art, to which the early-English, graceful as it is, is merely a sort of introduction. We lose the lancet arch entirely in this style: those generally employed in it were the simple, pointed, equilateral, and obtuse arches. They are often difficult to distinguish from the late arches of the preceding style. The piers used in this style, in large buildings, are composed of a cluster of shafts, not detached, as in the last style, but joined together, so that only half, or three-quarters, of each appear. Thus the piers in Exeter Cathedral are like a cluster of slender shafts, closely put together, diamond-wise. An ordinary pier is made of four such shafts, as at Grendon and Austrey churches, in Warwickshire; or, again, of eight shafts, four large and four small. A great mark of this style is the square-edged, projecting ribband, or fillet, as it is called, running up the face of each shaft: it is rarely seen in other styles. In small churches the plain octagonal pier is very usual, as at Tysoe, Warwickshire; and the capitals are WINDOW IN CHICHESTER CATHEDRAL. lows of the mouldings filled up with small round mouldings. The bases are often angular, as at Worcester Cathedral. Large stone-vaulted roofs now appear; and they have each division intersected by various ribs, running lengthways, or across, or from angle to angle. There are but few of the original timber roofs of this style remaining: they were of a very high, narrow pitch, and were open to the very top beam, called the ridge beam; the timbers were, indeed, as we have reason to think, always exposed in this way. The roof of Adderbury church, Oxfordshire, is a good specimen of this date,-probably the latter part of the 14th century. The doorways in this style become more highly ornamented; they have several slender shafts on either side, sometimes detached, but generally joined to the wall; over them is often found a canopy, with rich crockets, from which springs the arch moulding, as at Adderbury. But the chief glory of this style is, the beautiful and various forms which its windows assume. In the lower part they are divided into several, sometimes as many as seven, perpendicular divisions, or lights, as they are called. These lights are separated by stone mullions, which do not stop at the spring of the arch, but run into forms, some times of a regular geometrical shape, (such as may be described with compasses,) or again, into easy, too, made of a few boards nailed together, on flowing lines, which branch into various flame-like which he is flying down the hill-sides with the compartments. Of the first kind, the windows of utmost velocity. Wherever there is a bit of a Merton College chapel, in Oxford, are good speci- descent in a street, or in the country, down it are mens; of the flowing style, some windows in Ox- | going little sledges with one or more children on ford Cathedral afford specimens. There are four each of them. Boys and girls draw one another of this kind on the north side of the Lady Chapel. along the streets and highways at full speed on In some windows the mullions merely cross in the these little vehicles; every where you see them in head. Smaller windows (especially clerestory win- motion, and they afford a world of amusement. dows) are often found square-headed, and filled in If a heap of rubbish has been thrown to some the upper part with flowing tracery. outside of the town, or by the river-side, covered with snow, it becomes a sledge-bank for the lads; and they go down places so steep and uneven, that you expect to see them every moment thrown head over heels; but no such thing-away they go, as light and free as birds on the wing! and their sledge and carry it back to the top again. In ornamental detail, the most characteristic ornament is one called the ball-flower. It resembles a ball within three or four overlapping leaves, bearing some resemblance to a rose-bud: it is usually inserted in rows, in a hollow moulding, whether of doors, windows, or cornices. A four-when they get to the end of their course, pick up leaved square flower is also commonly used in this style in the same way. In buttresses of this style, we have chiefly to notice, that they are usually placed diagonally at the corners of buildings, instead of in a line with the walls, which was the plan pursued in earlier styles. They are divided into stages, and in some cases have niches, with canopies, for statues, on the outer faces, as at Witney church, Oxon. Parapets pierced through with wavy, flowing tracery, as at Malmesbury Abbey-church, and at Brailes, Warwickshire, are characteristic of this style. The transition from this style to the next, as from the last to it, was very gradual; and we often find buildings combining the features of both, which are puzzling, at least to the inexperienced eye. The ADVENTURES IN THE SNOW." WHEN SHOW comes, the scene changes. moment that it becomes trodden down hard on the roads, all the world is on sledges; sledges come forth from their year-long hiding-places, and stand before the houses ready to be hired. On the road are sledges of all sorts and sizes, from the largest to the smallest, from the smartest to the simplest. Some of them, especially in some of the chief cities, are very gay indeed. They are of various shapes, but resemble the bodies of chariots, phaetons, gigs, &c. set on sledge-bars. Some of them are very gaily, and others very gaudily painted, richly cushioned, and furnished with aprons of the shaggy skins of wild beasts, as bears, wolves, foxes, and deer. Their sledge-bars sweep up in a fine curve, and meet high before, bearing on their summit some figure-a pine-apple, a fir-cone, a lion's head, an eagle with outspread wings, or a human figure. The horses are covered with cloths of gay colours, which are stitched all over with little bells, and bells are generally hung on the sledges too. Besides the handsome ones, many an oldfashioned affair comes forth, down to the bauer's or peasant's sledge, which is his old wicker-basket wagon-body, on a few poles rudely knocked together. Every thing that is a vehicle of conveyance becomes a sledge. Wheelbarrows disappear, and become sledge-barrows. Every thing that was before carried now becomes drawn. Tubs, baskets, bundles, all are on sledges, and are travelling the streets and roads. Every boy has his sledge, (1) We have taken this amusing little sketch from W. Howitt's interesting work on Germany. 8vo. Longman & Co. But it is not only the children that delight in sledging; the grown Germans are as much children in this respect as any of them. They partake with northern nations in all their fondness for sledging. Sledges are driving about every where, filled with merry faces, and attended by loud cracking of whips. They make also large sledging-parties, which are matters of much excitement and great display, as well as of very particular etiquette. Young gentlemen will engage young ladies for a drive in a sledging-party, or Schlittenfahrt - partie, for three months before. Great are the arranging, the planning, the cogitations, while a party is in preparation. The acquaintance that shall be asked to join in it, the choice of ladies by the gentlemen, the number of sledges and outriders that they shall sport, the place to which they shall drive, and whether they shall have torches to return by or not. All parties enter into the scheme with heart and soul, and much anxiety is felt lest any change in the weather, a sudden thaw, or a fierce snow-storm, should prevent it. The sledging-parties in the country are often still more lusty, if not so gay. The rich bauers, or farmers, in the upper Rhinelands, and other parts, are excessively fond of these excursions, and with sledges that will hold at least twenty people, will, in winter, drive about for whole day's together. The gentry, in some parts of Germany, will, with much joviality, make use of the same capacious vehicles, and set on foot parties to some place of resort. The trouble in the country to get these together, and the ludicrous accidents that occur to them, afford subject of much entertainment. In the kingdom of Wirtemberg, the wirths, or landlords of the inns, are especially obliging. If you stop merely at their doors, while your driver gives his horses some bread and water, they feel much annoyed if you will not honour their house by going in. If you want nothing, they don't trouble themselves about that. They will do you any little service they can, just as much as if you had spent a large sum with them. At Waldenbuch, not far from Stuttgard, we stopped at the door of one of these good-natured men. We had recently breakfasted, and, as we wanted nothing, and the driver said he would not stay long, we proposed to sit in the carriage for the time. The wirth, a tall and very respectable-looking man-for the wirths are generally men of a tolerable education, and often hold a rank with the smaller gentry of the neighbourhood—came and |