faculties, and entailed upon himself disease; disease brings poverty, poverty wretchedness, wretchedness despair, despair death, and death, it is much to be feared, eternal misery! No loving wife has he to watch the waning of the lamp of his existence, to turn it by her fondness, to feed it with the oil of her consolation, to close his eyes on this revolving sphere, or to pour forth her prisons for his departing soul, ere it takes its flight for other regions! A wife he had; she was one whom he picked up in some giddy scene of dissipation and revelling; one, whom, whilst prosperity poured pleasures in their path, was glad to partake of it; but, unlike the constant Belvidera, no sooner did the sky lower, and the heavens menace adversity, than she sought shelter under some more congenial roof, and left him to weather the storm as well as he could, alone and comfortless.

well as in regard to pecuniary matters, as the lateness of
the hour of coming home. The theatre cannot be en-
tered without money; nor can the practices I have in-
stanced above be pursued without it; therefore, if a lad
got money for his pocket, it would be a good thing to
oblige him to give a satisfactory account of it; or, as this
might be productive of teanness or evasion, let some plan
be adopted that youth might apparently be the managers
of their pocket-money, yet be required to give an account
of it; the mode might be better conceived by some prudent
father, who would do infinite good to mankind were he to
make the golden secret known. This plan would preserve
many a worthy family from distress, and furnish many
bright ornaments in all parts of science, literature, and
commerce, and render youth to many the portal of mature
happiness and enjoyments.
A. F. D.

The Bouquet.

mandate as unjust as it is unreasonable: pleasure is ne-
ċessary and allowable; but then it should be partaken
under such restrictions, and with so much caution, that, I have here only made a nosegay of cuiled flowers, and hav

brought nothing of my own but the thread that ties them.”

story.

CONTINENTAL ADVENTURES.

A NOVEL.

(Continued from our last.)

and pressed it to his lips! Throwing him from me with
a sudden movement, which made him reel backwards,
and measuring him from head to foot with a look of in-
room instantly!" But he stood stock still; so I immedi
effable contempt, I exclaimed, Begone, Sir! Leave the
ately opened a door which led into an adjoining vacant
apartment, and bolted it behind me.
Some minutes
elapsed before I heard him leave the room, and then re-
turning to my own, I found on the table the following
strange burlesque scrawl:-

Lovely and angelic Being!-Forgive one who would die sooner than offend you, and who is wholly incapable of entertaining a thought unworthy of your purity! I who could hear the music of that enchanting voice,-see worship your noble pride and dignity of demeanour; but those downcast eyes, whose veiled glance speaks to the soul,-half penetrate the delicate bloom of those soft cheeks, shaded by the envious frills of deep lace,-and be hold the fair hand half hid by the long ruffle, approach closely to my own,-without imprinting on it one mute token of that deep respect and admiration which filled my whole soul, but which my lips might not utter without. impertinence and presumption. What Scarron said of the beautiful Anne of Austria, full well could I say of thee,-'At the end of her sleeves she had

A pair of hands so white,

It sure would have made my heart glad,

Had they box'd me from morning till night." Forgive me, then, and farewell! loveliest and sweetest of women! Fair, but fleeting vision! unknown now, and perchance for ever! yet art thou still

'One of those forms which flit by us when we
Are young, and fix our eyes on every face,→
And, oh! the loveliness at times we see
In momentary gliding,-the soft grace,
The youth, the bloom, the beauty, which agree
In many a nameless being we retrace,—
Whose course and home we know not, nor shall know,
Like the lost Pleiad, seen no more below.'

"With profound respect your devoted, "UNKNOWN." This extravagant farrago of absurdity would have mad one think the man mad, but as he looked perfectly con posed, I could only conclude he was foolish.

there is very little of it, indeed, that can be enjoyed. There is nothing which would make us lose ourselves sooner than pleasure; its vortex is so capacious and so strong, that, in its whole extent, there are very few, indeed, able to retreat when once they have got within its eddy. When on this part of the subject, I cannot help adverting to that most ruinous, and, at the same time, The humour, we must allow, is sometimes exaggerated; most attractive pleasure, called “theatrical amusements." I know very few young men, indeed, who are the victims as in the description of the Cockneys in the first volume, and of the English Traveller, who was found crying out of pleasure; yet, from these few, I have learned their onset on the mountains that he was poisoned by his guide, be was in frequenting the theatre, under the guise of correcting the heart through the eyes; but, alas! how reverse cause the guide, after having given him water of the Lake of Lucerne to drink, told him that the lake was bien pois. is the sequel! the heart is corrupted through the eyes! sonneux, which the traveller did not learn meant full of For ever will thy image remain indelibly impressed up "Here (said they) the most improper conduct was exhibited to our view; the closest liberties exposed as in- fish, until he had swallowed a huge dose of ipecacuanha. the tablet of my remembrance. One little mementoPerhaps some charge of exaggeration may lie against the relic-precious because it has encircled a part of your nocent and harmless; from this we were led to believe so, following adventure at an inn at Berne; it however strikes lovely form- I have dared to carry away; but leave in that belief strengthened, and led us on imperceptibly to us as being very amusing, and in the novel it is very im. exchange for it my heart! Honi soit qui mal y pense. our ruin." Let us pursue their course awhile ;-perhaps these examples which they saw gave rise to acts of in-portant, as leading to the more material events of the decency on poor wretches in the street; here they could not stop; they found, by experience, that the pleasure which they could procure without trouble, was not worth seeking; they bent their lascivious eyes towards the milliners', and other shops, where several young and decent females get initiated in a business which may procure them a genteel livelihood; here they throw their baits, and, like hungry wolves, lay in wait and ambush, ready to pounce upon these unsuspecting and unprotected girls. Some have prudence and virtue enough to withstand their solicitations; others, more unsuspecting or thoughtless, yield to their infamous and unprincipled desires;-a few months developed, in unequivocating language, the consequences of their imprudence; the girl's character is lost, her future prospects blasted, her seducer either will not, or dare not, make her restitution by marriage;-what must she do? Her parents around her are breaking their hearts, her former companions now consider her beneath their notice; every source by which she might support herself honourably, is shut to her for ever. Must she die? No; she seeks the brothel, the tavern, the theatre; there she takes up with any paramour, and ranges the streets of the town, seeking whom she may ruin; or, with still more fatality, striving to get companions in her misery, as there is a secret joy resulting from the know-ledge that we are not alone in any misfortune.

This, Mr. Editor, in my humble opinion, is one of the bad consequences of frequenting the theatre, and one which I will be bound to say occurs oftener than any other; not to say how many idlers it causes, how many robbers and swindlers it creates, and how many families it ultimately ruins. Nor can I think but the heads of families, guardians, and masters, but in particular the two former, are much to blame in this particular; for a parent or guardian should pay such attention to the conduct and regularity of those whom they have in charge, as would make it impossible for them to frequent the theatre, as

I had resolved to rise very early this morning, in order to walk out to see the magnificent range of the Alps at sunrise; but the appointed hour had passed, and no sign of fille or garçon appearing with a light, as both had faithlessly promised, I got up, and as there are no bells in calling aloud for fille, and garçon, and light,' in Continental bed-rooms, sallied forth to the landing-place, French and German alternately. At length an answer was returned, and a light appeared, and as it ascended the stairs I began to rate the garçon, who carried it, in German; but he made no reply, and when he came close to said garçon was a gentleman, and a young and handsome me, I perceived, to my unspeakable confusion, that the gentleman, with a fine Brutus head of dark curling hair, most delicately arranged and perfumed, and wrapped in a most superb dressing gown. In my confusion I would with a smile, No, I can't part with this, else I should have taken the light from him, but he held it fast, saying, be in the dark myself. Allow me to light your candle.'

I was compelled to return to my room for my candle, wishing myself in the centre of the earth. He followed me to the door, and stood there with his light, but he attempted so long in vain to light my candle from his, complish I really could not conceive,) that at last he could (though how it happened to be so difficult a matter to acno longer keep his gravity, though he turned off his involuntary laugh upon his own awkwardness. My confusion became every moment more intolerable, and I never felt more relieved than when, my candle being at last lighted, I shut the door upon him. In a minute or two I heard a rap at the door, and not doubting that it was the fille or garçon come at last, when it was of no use, I opened it to reprimand them; but to my consternation beheld the same hero of the curling hair and sumptuous gone out, and he had returned to beg for a light, as the dressing-gown come back again. He said his candle had people of the house were not up.'

My candle was upon a table near the door, and he followed me to it, as if to save me the trouble of bringing it. I saw that he purposely avoided it; and without making While I held it, he pretended to attempt to light it, but the smallest reply to any thing he said, I was going to take his candle in my hand to light it myself, when, to my unspeakable indignation, he took hold of my hand

What the relic' might be he had carried off I cou not at first imagine, because 1 missed nothing till I b quite finished dressing, when, to my great consternat put off-along with the rest the night before; and as the I could no where find three of my rings, which I able to me from being the gifts of my nearest and deare were not only of considerable intrinsic value, but inval friends, I could not patiently submit to their loss. I cou have no doubt that my troublesome visitor had carrie mento that had encircled a part of my person, (a q them off, because he declared he had carried off a m way of describing a ring,) and because he was the being who had entered my apartment, in which he remained some minutes alone. I could not but feel value of at least fifty or sixty pounds, under the silly voked at his impudence, in purloining property to tence of possessing himself of a relic. Yet he had sp fectly the air and manners of a gentleman, that I w inclined to think he had taken them away only for t purpose of plaguing me, and obliging me to seek him to demand their restitution. But, lest he should prov lose no time in endeavouring to recover them. Col swindler, and make off with them, I thought it best and Mrs. Cleveland were not yet visible, so I was left my own exertions. I first ascertained from the gard that the only English in the house, except ourselv consisted of three gentlemen, who were just setting off gether, and one gentleman who was getting his break I then summoned Mrs. Plait, Mrs. Cleveland's maid, you know is a staid portly dame, nearly forty, and hav briefly told her my adventure, my loss, and my sus cions, I directed her what to do; and putting on my b her, on the landing of the great staircase, down wh net, with a thick veil folded double, I stood close beh the three gentlemen must pass. I saw, however, that i one of them was the thief, so Plait and I let them p ceed; and we then repaired to the solitary gentlema called out, Entrez, entrez, done; but she continued door who was getting his breakfast. She rapped, and rap, and he impatiently to call, Entrez;' until I sa It is a lady, Sir." He instantly opened the door, a came out; and I, who had retreated behind another do

on the same landing, very distinctly saw through the cre-
vice, by its open hinges, that it was the culprit himself,
though he could not see me.

He stared at Plait with much astonishment, and said,-
What! was it you that spoke?'

Yes, Sir,' said Plait, who had her instructions from me. It was I who wanted to speak to you, to desire you will please to return me the rings that you took away from my room this morning.'

I-I take away your rings!-What do you mean ?'
I mean what I say, Sir,-that you came into my room
this morning, and took away three of my rings, and’-
Are you mad, woman ?*

Woman, indeed! muttered Plait, tossing her head; 'I say, Woman, indeed! I mean, Sir,' said she, imperatively, that I want the rings that you took from my room, for a joke. I suppose; but it's no joke at all; so give them to me directly, if you please, Sir.'

And you are perfectly welcome to this relict of you again,' he continued, as soon as he could speak. Pon my soul, you've cured me of all fancy for keeping it. Lord! Lord! where could my eyes have been! I must have been walking in my sleep, and it was all a dream! It was no dream at all, Sir! The rings are gone, and'But, my good lady, let me advise you, as a friend, never to put off your nightcap day or night. By Jove, you look bewitching in it. Do go and put it on again; do!' He ran on in this way, regardless of Plait, who by this time was in a great rage, and who angrily vociferatedGive me back the rings, Sir! Give me back the rings !' as she stuck close to him, and followed him into his room. Though their voices now attained a louder key every moment, their words were so indistinct, that I could only catch at intervals, amidst the din of war, such elegant vituperation as You old virago!' • You audacious woman !-on the one side, and-You false-hearted villain! You cheat! You swindler !'-on the other; while How dare you, Sir?'-and- How dare you, Ma'am?'-were bandied about between them. At last, And I would have you to know, Ma'am, that I wont' when the battle was at the loudest, a sudden calm ensued, But I say, Sir, I will have my rings.' and presently, after some apparently soft and amicable Confound your rings! What have I to do with your conference had passed between the belligerent powers, rings, you old simpleton ?" Plait issued forth from the room, apologizing as she came, while I heard him at the door again courteously rejected as being none of her's, indeed.' She brought back with her, however, the rings, which were taken up by the waiter in the heat of the altercation, from the candlestick in the room; for it appeared that when the gentle man left my room, he had taken up my candlestick instead of his own, upon which I must have left the rings last night-carelessly enough, certainly.

I know nothing about your rings, nor you either, you foolish woman!"

Foolish, forsooth!-foolish! I would have you to know, Sir,

Old, indeed!-old, I say!'

'I don't care what you say. What do you come to tor-offer her her supposed red garter, which she rather sharply

ment me for ?'

For the rings, Sir,-for the rings !'

The rings !-I don't know what you mean.' But I say you do, Sir-you took the rings-three valuable rings from my room, when you came to ask for a light this morning, and there is your nonsensical letter that you left instead of them-so give me back the rings!

morning!'

Your room? You !-it was not you that I saw this Ay, you need not pretend to be astonished, Sir. You can't have forgot it so, without more to do, give me back the rings, I say.'

Impossible! exclaimed the gentleman, with a long drawn breath of astonishment.

Impossible !-but I say it is possible, and it shall be possible, though. I will have my rings.'

I know nothing about your rings, good woman! I never saw you in my life before.'

No! and will you go to deny it? Will you go to deny that you wrote all that there balderdash stuff?

Eh! what! let me see!-By Jove, it's my foolery, sare enough. Yet it's impossible it could have been you -I suppose it was your mistress, and she sent you.'

My mistress, Sir! I would have you know, Sir, that my mistress is a married lady, Sir; and is now-ay, at this very moment-in bed and asleep with her husband, Str; and that's their door, Sir,' pointing to a door opposite, where Colonel and Mrs. Cleveland really slept.

Is it possible!' exclaimed the gentleman. I declare I a hardly credit it-it cannot be!' Then calling the parçon, I heard him ask, in French, who slept in that dom? and being satisfied from him that it really was a Monsieur and Madame Anglais, and that this was the Hle de chambre of Madame, and, moreover, that the said Bile slept in the story above,' he exclaimed, Then I must ave been bewitched, that's certain !'

Will you please to give me the rings now, Sir?'

terated Plait.

What rings, my good woman?' The rings, Sir, you took away from my room, and nd you would keep for a relict of me.'

A relict of you!' he exclaimed, bursting into an imederate fit of laughter, which he renewed again and gain-repeating, Relict of you!"

Yes! relict of me! Will you go to deny it? Will Du say you didn't, when I have it under your own hand, 1 black and white that you would keep them all your fe, for a relict of me? But I say you shan't keep no wh relict of me.'

Relict of you!-O Lord! O Lord!'-and again his aughter burst forth.

Ay, a relict of me, Sir! so now I'll thank you for Dem rings."

My good lady exclaimed the gentleman, almost cated with laughter, I took no rings from your room your room it was. All that I did take for a relict of a. (and here his laughter again impeded his articula,) was this old red garter!"

At this speech, and at the sight of a bit of red ribbon angling from his finger and thumb) which I recognised be a string which I used for tying up a little box, had great difficulty to restrain my own disposition to sibility.

We have quoted enough to give our readers a notion of the lighter parts of the work; the serious portion may be said to be better; and the whole of it we cordially recommend to all those who are fond either of scenery or or scenes.

Scientific Notices.

Fashions for October.

HOME COSTUME.-Over an under garment of India muslin, of the most delicate texture, is worn an elegant deshabille robe of celestial blue, or sea-green taffeta, without sleeves. The body is made in the Circassian style. and discovers that of the muslin dress underneath, plaited en chemisette, with a quilling of thread tulle next the throat; the sleeves are of white muslin, and fastened at the wrists with broad bracelets, enriched with cameos and valuable gems: there are no other ornaments on the sleeves. A sash, the colour of the dress, is loosely tied on the left side with a small bow and long ends. At the border of the muslin petticoat, which is nearly a hand's breadth longer than the coloured robe, is a full rouleau of muslin, wound round with a cordon of a novel kind, in shining cotton. A rouleau of silk finishes also the coloured dress next the hem. An oriental turban of crape or sarcenet, the same tint as the outer robe, and discovering but little of the hair, arranged in curls on each side of the temples, constitutes the head-dress, with a narrow frill of plaited tulle under the chin.

PROMENADE DRESS.-A dress of pink crape or gros de Naples, elegantly sprinkled with black satin spots. The petticoat beautifully adorned at the border, with three rows of satin puffs, arranged downwards to the feet, each edged round with blond; the three rows surmounted by a flat rouleau, with blond at each side, which finishes the upper flounce. The body is à la vierge, and over it are braces of shaded riband, corresponding with the colour of the dress. Round this riband, which forms a V in front, are Castillion points of exquisite shades, till they soften off to a much darker tint than the dress. Over full white satin short sleeves are those which are transparent, en gigot, of handsomely figured tulle, or clear muslin, richly embroidered. The antique points of lace or blond at the wrists are lined with white satin, and form rather foliage than points. Points of lace fall over the wrists, and between them and the full foliage points, that turu upward on the sleeve. Sometimes this dress is of white gros de Naples, trimmed in the manner abovementioned, with white satin and blond. The hat is of lemon-coloured crape, ornamented with scrolls of the same, and ribands; very short white ostrich feathers, and pink satin bows, with a broad streamer on the right side. A turquoise stone necklace, consisting of several rows of that beautifully coloured material, confined at equal distances by Count A. Eugene de Rosen, of Princes-street, Caven-medallions in gold, finely chased, and of exquisite workdish-square, for a new engine for communicating power morkmanship; ear-pendants of filigree gold. to answer the purposes of a steam-engine.-August 1. EVENING DRESS.-Dress of coloured gauze over white J. B. Wilks, Trandridge Hall, Surrey, for improve- satin, with full doubled ornaments at the border en jabots, ments in producing steam for steam-engines, and other each confined in the middle, and drawn up, so as to form purposes.-August 2. a cockade, by narrow rouleaux of satin, the colour of the L. W. Wright, Borough-road, engineer, for improve-dress. From the left side of the waist an ornament is carments in the construction of trucks or carriages, applica- ried down the skirt, across to the outside of the right ankle, ble to useful purposes.-August 2. consisting of four rouleaux of satin, set on in a slight wave. vided in the middle, and edged round with Vandyke The body plain, and made low, with a falling collar diblond, set on straight. Short sleeves formed of trimming, corresponding with that on the skirt, edged next the elbow with the same kind of blond that surrounds the collar. A bow, of satin riband is placed on each shoulder. A double beret of coloured gauze ornamented with rouleaux of satin, and a plume of white marabouts on each side. EarPendants and bracelets of wrought gold, the latter with

LIST OF NEW PATENTS.

J. Williams, ironinonger and ship's hearth manufacturer, and J. Doyle, mechanist, Commercial-road, for an apparatus and process for separating salt from sea-water, and thereby rendering it fresh, and fit for use.-August 4. E. Hazard, Norfolk-street, engineer, for methods of preparing explosive mixtures, and employing them as power for machinery.-August 12.

a

J. T. Thompson, Long Acre, camp-equipage-maker, for improvements in making or manufacturing metallic tubes, whereby strength and lightness are obtained, and for applying them, with various other improvements, to the constructing of the metallic tube and other bedsteads. -August 17.

J. C. Schwieso, Regent-street, musical instrument maker, for improvements on certain stringed musical instruments-August 22.

T. Burstall, Leith, and J. Hill, Bath, engineers, for
improvements in the machinery for propelling locomotive
carriages.-August 22.

J. Yandall, Cross-street, Surrey, for improvements on
apparatus for cooling and heating fluids.-August 24.
F. Hilliday, Ham, Surry, for improvements in raising
or forcing water.-August 25.

W. Downe, Exeter, plumber and brass-founder, for
improvements on water-closets.August 25.

R. Busk, and W. K. Westley, of Leeds, flax-spinners, for improvements in machinery for heckling or dressing, and for breaking, scutching, or clearing hemp, flax, or other fibrous substances.-August 29.

W. Day, Strand, trunk and camp-equipage-maker, for improvements on bedsteads, which are also applicable to other purposes.-August 31.

T. R. Williams, Norfolk-street, Strand, for a machine for separating burs or other substances from wool, hair, or fur.-September 18.

red cornelian. Jocko fan of pasteboard.

The Housewife.

Brewing. The art of brewing is exactly similar to the process of making tea. Put a handful of malt into a teapot; then fill it with water, the first time rather under boiling heat. After it has stood some time, pour off the liquor, just as you would tea, and fill up the pot again with boiling water; in a similar manner pour that off, and so go on filling up and pouring off till the malt in the pot is tasteless, which will be the case when all the virtue is extracted. The liquor, or malt-tea, thus extracted, must then be boiled with a few hops in it, and when it becomes cool enough, that is, about blood heat, add a little yeast to ferment it, and the thing is done. This is the whole art and process of brewing; and to brew a larger quantity requires just the same mode of proceeding as it would to make a tea breakfast for a regiment of soldiers. A peck of malt and four ounces of hops will produce ten quarts of ale, better than any that can be purchased in London, and for which purpose a tea-kettle and two pan mugs are sufficient apparatus.-Mechanics' Magazine.

Poetry.

LYRA GERMANICA,

OR SPECIMEN OF THE GERMAN LYRIC POETS.

No. IX.

LAY, FROM A DISTANCE.
[FROM MATTHISON.]

1131

When evening quits the glowing sky,
If wandering in thy favourite grove,
A smiling form salutes thine eye,

And greets thine ear with notes of love,

It is the spirit of thy friend

Bids peace and joy thy steps attend.

Or, if beneath the moon's mild ray
The dream of love is fairer seen,

And gentle breezes murmuring play
Midst cytisus and pine tree green,
And fond forebodings heave thy breast,
My spirit 'tis which bids thee rest.

And should'st thou, when deep musings steal
Thy soul to memory's magic land,

A soft ethereal breathing feel,

Like zephyr's kiss, on lip and hand,
While hastes the flickering lamp to die,
That is my spirit, do not sigh.

Or, hear'st thou, whilst the silvery star
Loves on thy lonely couch to shine,
Like some Æolian harp from far,

The words of faith, "For ever thine;"
Then slumber sweet, with fondest care,
My guardian spirit hovers there.

TOUR OF DR. SYNTAX, THE YOUNGER, TO THE
ISLE OF MAN.

LETTER I.

Douglas, September, 1826,

I had long wished this dear little isle to behold,
So famed for its Druids in stories of old;

But now 'mongst its neighbours more famed for good fare,
Cheap living, good bathing, good wines, and good air;
Which are things, let me tell you, our taxes at home

Will seldom afford us till hither we come:

Save for dandified seagulls, whom straw-hatted we see,
Strolling idle and listless to banish ennui;

Or a few dashing belles, who come here for a walk,
To inhale the sea breeze, or of lovers to talk.
But the day's passing o'er, and for lodgings I seek,
Which I get, with my board, for a guinea per week,
With a lady near Athol-street, cheerful and hearty,
Who a good table keeps for a small select party;
Of her high birth and station no more I need say,
Than she's cousin to a Deemster, and aunt to a Key!
But 'tis now quite full time my first letter I end,
So these few hasty sketches despatch by a friend;
Ere my next, I shall venture at large o'er the town,
And the belles and the beaux in my journal set down,
But free, as, I trust, from ill-nature or hate,
As becometh the kinsman of Syntax the Great.
[To be continued.]

Correspondence.

SCHOOL DISCIPLINE.

TO THE EDITOR

SIR,-For the notice you were pleased to take of my School, in the Mercury of the 29.h September, I beg to return you my best thanks; and, be assured, I shall ever be solicitous to merit your approbation: indeed, your unwearied endeavours to promote the public welfare demand a public acknowledgment.

Since the appearance of your paper, I have been at some trouble to ascertain the deficiency of sitting room in the different Charity Schools, and, to my great surprise, in every one of them there is enough, and in most of them more than enough; the letter, therefore, of Observer on that head is not quite correct. The real fact is, that some of my brethren of the birch do not give themselves over much concern in making the best use of such accommo. dations as their schools afford; and I can further assure you, that on Dr. Bell's system, it is as much the custom to sit as to stand. This will easily be seen, by visiting mine or any school properly conducted on the Madras system.

PHRENOLOGY.

Unhappy man, whom schoolmasters for spite,
Cr wretched parents taught to read and write,
Why were you taught to read? why learn to spell,
Or write your name? A mark would do as well.
Chart

TO THE EDITOR.
SIR,-Your correspondent L. has somewhat mended
style since he "first endeavoured to prove" that phrenolog
was vox et preterea nihil; (I wish, by the way, to h
that you should correct his future errors in quotation
but the impression, notwithstanding, left upon my min
after perusing his neat epistle, was, that he had complete
succeeded in illustrating in himself the above quotatio
which an Irishman rather aptly translated "all blarney
I certainly give him all credit for the sincerity of his
tention in endeavouring to overthrow phrenology; for
evinces a considerable share of sympathy in writing
Onionhead, which only a similar formation (mal) is
own could produce; and it is to be feared, however sa
guine his friends are, that L. can never be "an extepo
to any phrenological rule."

To attempt to answer any argument which your e respondent has brought forward, would be utterly imp sible, which his vanity may apply as it pleases. B often must he be told that these objections, and a toma more, have been overturned by men, who, independen phrenology, have done more for science in general thas the ephemeral writers, myself included, who ever shone a provincial miscellany! It is downright folly to be these gentlemen harping for ever, in their own little way on a theme they have never studied. Do, Mr. Eder close at once your columns and this controversy to a further discussion on a matter which cannot be decid by such means. Let Amicus Justitia, who, by-the-ty writes more like a man conversant with literature in gen ral than his aspiring ally, turn his talents into ano channel: but it would be throwing away words to adv L., for it is hard to convince or argue with ignorazo and I am surprised that he should even so incaution display his vulgarity, as by making use of an express more than once in his last letter, any person looking for which in Johnson will find L. described as be LOOK ON Farewell.-Yours, &c.

TO THE EDITOR.

SIR, By inserting the following in your next, you i oblige yours, A CONSTANT READER "Whether is it right to say, I can drink three glasses of wine, or three glassfuils of wine? As there is a siderable wager on the result of this inquiry, it is t hoped some one will answer.”

I perfectly agree with Observer, and reprobate, most severely, the hardships the poor urchins are made subject to, by being compelled to stand so long at a time. It brings on all the evils he mentions, and many more; but, as I am not sufficiently acquainted with the hard names used to denote what I wish to express, I must be excused attempting it. I, however, most earnestly recommend the teachers of the different charity schools, if they have any feelings of humanity left, or any "bowels of compassion," to provide for the comforts of the body, as well as the improvement of the mind. By-the-bye, I am not altogether pleased with you for always coupling Mr. Lancaster's We have delayed the insertion of the foregoing q name with that of Dr. Bell. Pray, why do you say in hopes that we could retrace some correspondence "the Bell or Lancaster system ?" when, be assured, once had on the same subject, in which, we believe, that Lancaster's system, if ever there were such an one, point was determined. As we cannot find the subject, is not now known in this town; and happy we ought reference to our index, we shall insert the note of our to think ourselves for getting rid of such barbarous respondent; to which we shall venture to offer an ans practices as he introduced into schools conducted on although we hope no wager will be decided on the p the principle of "mutual tuition." I have been told without more weighty authority. In the first place, is t it was a punishment in frequent use, to put a boy into such a word as glassful, except in common parlance? a basket, draw him up to the ceiling, and leave him not to be found in our dictionaries, and we shall there suspended there half a day together; thus gibbeting the take the word spoonful by way of illustration, becaus poor fellows, I suppose, to give them a foretaste of the is not only recognised in speaking, but regularly ap View the maids as they pass, with their good-humoured fea-gallows. He had other monstrous and unfeeling prac-priated by our authors. Spoonful is a compound s

So, revolving the matter t'other day in my mind,

I boarded a steamer-a fig for the wind,

And after a voyage of eight hours, or near,
Was landed quite safely on Douglas' neat pier,
Where a man took my trunk, most obliging and willing,
And showed me to "Hanby's," but charged me a shilling.
Here a breakfast I punished, of eggs, fowl, and tea,
And for sixteen pence only, which put me in glee,
And set me at once from my sea-sickness free.
Behold me now ready the town to explore,

I have dressed, and I loiter a while at the door,

tures,

(These Manx girls all seem affectionate creatures!)

I then issue forth, and the quay saunter down;

I purchase "the Guide," which costs half-a-crown;

I examine the map, and admire the nice skill
The artist has traced out each mansion and hill;
But for miles, sites, or bearings to th' opposite coast,
This map has but slight information to boast.

I retrace now my steps to the lighthouse and pier,
Neat things as they are, but quite useless I fear,

tices, which, I am credibly informed, completed his sys- stantive, and must have its plural in the regular w
tem of inventions, of which his friends think so highly. When we are required by a prescription to take t
The principle of mutual tuition is Dr. Bell's discovery, three spoonfuls, it is not meant that we should take
and the practices he recommends to schools modelled on or three separate spoons and fill each, but that we sho
his plan are as different to Lancaster's "as chalk is to take the measure called a spoonful, two or three times
cheese." On Dr. B.'s system, corporal punishment and un-peated. If our correspondent will refer to Johnso
seemly penance are entirely superseded by well-regulated Dictionary, he will find the plural spoonfuls given on
emulation. I would recommend the friends of youth, and authority of Arbuthnot. Now, if there be such a ca
particularly teachers, to read" Bamford's Essays on Flog-pound word as glassful, in the singular, we presunie,
ging."-Yours, &c.
R. GRACE. fair analogy, that its plural must be glassfuls.—Edit. Å

who persisted, last night, in encoring all Miss Love's
songs, in opposition to the wishes of a great majority of
the audience, the impropriety of their conduct. The | "The Lancet of Saturday, speaking of Mr. Fay's mode
party who did not wish for an encore could scarcely show of excising teeth, says We deem this a very ingenious
it for fear of hurting the performer's feelings. Do those nerally adopted. It is not intended entirely to supersede
and safe operation, and have no doubt that it will be ge-
gentlemen think that singing is performed by steam, or extraction, as there must occasionally be cases in which,
that the frame of a delicate and lovely woman is as insen- in consequence of diseased fangs or jaws, that operation
sible of fatigue as the machinery of a barrel organ? will be required: such cases, however, are very rare, in
However much they may feel gratified by Miss Love's comparison with those of diseased crowns; consequently,
the procedure above described is applicable to the great

In a course of chymical experiments frequent occasion singing, (and who that has heard her can be otherwise?) majority of cases of carious teeth.'
is had to try the effects of certain gases on particular fluids,
but with none of the apparatus now in use is this effected
. Without a considerable waste of gas, which, added to the
operation being tedious, from the trouble of making and
collecting a sufficiency of the gas, and the materials not
unfrequently being very expensive, too often become
obstacles to prevent these pneumatic experiments being
made, especially when success is dubious.

The Philanthropist.

EDUCATION OF THE DEAF AND DUMB,
IN LIVERPOOL.

DIALOGUES UPON THE DUTIES OF MAN.

Dialogue First.-Man's Duty towards God. Master. I must recal to your mind what we have said in our former discourses, for the duties of man are derived from his nature. Before we say what he ought to do, let us see what he is. What is man? Scholar. He is a being composed of two substances, body and spirit: in his body he is like animals; in his spirit he is like God.

Master. What are the principal faculties of the spirit? Scholar. Knowledge, will, thought, love, and desire. Master. What name do you give to the spirit when it exercises the faculty of knowledge?

might, more than he loves any other being, more even
than he loves himself; because God being above all, ought
to be loved more than any other being or thing.
Scholar. That appears to me just, and at the same time
very difficult; for how can we love a being we have never
seen, whom we cannot see, and consequently cannot know?
Master. I see you do not know what it is to know and
to love.

Scholar. I think I do; but you shall judge. To know
an object, is to know all the parts and essential properties
of that object.

Master. Apply what you say to some example which
will prove that you understand it.

Scholar. He who can say that he knows a being com-
posed of two substances, the one composed of parts, the
other unorganized, but which is capable of thinking, may
say that he knows mankind, each individual of which is
thus composed. In fact, the essential properties of man
are the body, which is the organized substance, and the
spirit, which is that being capable of thinking.
Master. That is very well. Apply that example to

Scholar. I call it the intelligence. Master. When you will, what name do you give to the God. spirit then?

Scholar. We say that the will proceeds from the heart, that is, the spirit working by the heart.

Master. Do those two principles belong to two different beings?

Scholar. No; they belong to the same.
Master. Are they different?

Scholar. No; it is the same principle whose operations are different.

Master. What name do you give to this principle?
Scholar. The soul.

Master. Do you know why the soul has been given to man ?

Scholar. I imagine that since the soul has the faculty of knowledge, it is to know beings and things; and that since it has the faculty of loving, it is to love them.

Master. Very well; every being ought to fulfil its destination: birds fly, because the Being who made them gave them wings for that purpose; so man has received the faculty of knowledge, that he might know; and the faculty of loving, that he might love. But do you think that all beings and things are made that man might know and love them?

Scholar. Yes; for the more he knows beings and things, the more will he resemble God.

Master. Ought man to love all things?

Scholar. God is a spirit, eternal, all-powerful, creator and preserver of all that exists, immense, just, and good. All that I see proves to me the necessity of the existence of such a being. Then, he exists for me as well as the beings that I see, for I know that they would not exist without him. I can then say that I know God by means of the beings which he has made. I know him; it is my spirit that knows him; but how can I love him whom I have never seen?

Master. Can you, after having spoken so well about the knowledge of God, be so ignorant about the love of him? But can you know God and yet not love him?

Master. Yes, love is the fulfilment of all our duties: and a man who loves God does all that God command

him.

Scholar. You have told me that we should show thi love by exterior witness. Tell me, I pray you, what thi exterior witness is ?

Master. It is in going to the houses of God, and joining in prayer and thanksgiving to God, and thus making it manifest that we honour God.

Scholar. I do not understand the word honour. Master. To honour is to express an interior feeling the we have of the excellence of any being. Thus we honou old and virtuous men, and we make known to others th favourable opinion we have of these persons by bowing them as we pass, by offering them the most commodio seat at an assembly, &c. And we honour God by han bling ourselves before him, by kneeling in supplication him.

Scholar. Are these all the duties of man?

Master. They are all the duties which regard Go We must now speak of those which relate to ourselve and of those which relate to others.

END OF DIALOGUE FIRST.

Miscellanies.

LORD BYRON FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

We were interrupted in the midst of our debate by th entrance of a stranger, whom, on the first glance, guessed to be an Englishman but lately arrived from Coo stantinople. He wore a scarlet coat, richly emimidered with gold, in the style of an English aid-de-camp's dres uniform, with two heavy epaulettes. His countenan Scholar. I think I know him. To love, is it not to feel announced him to be about the age of two-and-twent an inclination towards the object loved, to desire to see it, His features were remarkably delicate, and would ha to possess it, to enjoy it, and to be united to it? But given him a feminine appearance, but for the manly how can I feel all that for a Being which I have not seen-pression of his fine blue eyes. On entering the int which I cannot see?

Master. It is sufficient to reflect on what we have received from God,—of the good which he has done us every moment of our lives. What need have the indigent to see the hand which secretly supplies all their wants, in order to love it? What need has man to see that Being who constantly preserves him, in order to love him?

Scholar. Do not go on. How humiliated I am not to have found out, without your aid, all these truths, which lead me to the conclusion that we ought all of us to love Scholar. I think he ought, since they are all the works that Being to whom we owe our existence and preservaof a just and good God.

Master. But ought he to love the wicked?

Scholar. Yes, he ought to love the wicked, for they also sent before us than if we saw him. Yes, I feel that I are the work of God's hands.

Master. Have you considered what you say? Scholar. Yes: we ought to love the wicked, because they are the work of God; but we should not love their wicked actions, because they are contrary to the will of God.

tion; who made the sun to light us, and the earth to bring
forth fruit for our nourishment. This God is no less pre-
ought to love him. Is he not too good to suffer me to
love him? He loved me when I did not know him. I
wish to love him with my whole heart; for I cannot love
him infinitely as he ought to be loved.

Master. To love God is a privilege only allowed to men
and angels. The animals, whose instinct and industry

love him. Do you know what it is to love God?

Master. The distinction which you make is very reason-you most admire, have not the happiness of being able to able and just. Since you are so far advanced, you will be able to tell me what being we ought most to know and to love?

Scholar. After what you have told me of the greatness and goodness of God, I cannot be deceived. We ought, above all things, to know and love God.

Master. And what other being deserves to occupy our whole soul more than him? He has given us our existence. He preserves us, and will always preserve us. He it is we ought to know and love; but how to know and love

Scholar. How should I know? Tell me.
Master. To know God, is to seek incessantly to know
him better. To love God, is to do all that pleases him,
and to shun all that would offend him. To love God, is
to live in his sight as a child under the eye of its father.
To love God, is to do all that he has commanded. To
love God, is to love what he loves. To love God, is to
look to him only as to a father for food and raiment, and
every thing necessary for the preservation of life. To love
God, is to pray to him for all that we need, and to give
him thanks for the gifts which he has bestowed upon us.
To love God, is to love him with your whole soul; which
you must show in an interior manner towards God, and in

an exterior manner to man.

Scholar. From what you have said, I see that when we love God we do our duty towards him.

shop, he took off his feathered cocked hat, and showed head of curly auburn hair, which improved in no degree the uncommon beauty of his face. The impress which his whole appearance made on my mind was s that it has ever since remained deeply engraven on it; although fifteen years have since gone by, the lapse time has not in the slightest degree impaired the freshne of the recollection.

He was attended by a Janissary attached to the Engli embassy, and by a person who professionally acted s Cicerone to strangers. These circumstances, together a very visible lameness in one of his legs, convinced at once he was Lord Byron. I had already heard of Lordship, and of his late arrival in the Salcette frigs which had come up from the Smyrna station, to fel away Mr. Adair, our Ambassador to the Porte. La Byron had been previously travelling in Epirus and A Minor, with his friend Mr. Hobhouse, and had becom great amateur of smoking: he was conducted to this sh for the purpose of purchasing a few pipes. The indi rent Italian, in which language he spoke to his Cicer and the latter's still more imperfect Turkish, made difficult for the shopkeeper to understand their wish and, as this seemed to vex the stranger, I addressed in English, offering to interpret for him. When his Lo ship thus discovered me to be an Englishman, he sho me cordially by the hand, and assured me, with so warmth, in his manner, that he always felt great pleas when he met with a countryman abroad. His purcha and my bargain being completed, we walked out togeth and rambled about the streets, in several of which I the pleasure of directing his attention to some of the m remarkable curiosities in Constantinople. The pecul circumstances under which our acquaintance took pla established between us, in one day, a certain degree intimacy, which two or three years frequenting each other company in England would most probably not have a complished. I frequently addressed him by his name, b