well justified in doing so―inasmuch as Francis he would have been the worst to prove him a vilwas a tory, as the critic himself might have lain, which, notwithstanding, he unquestionably known. Among the authorities at the bottom of was, and which Mr. Macaulay, in the text, had the page, from which, probably, the critic learned most abundantly shown him to have been. all he knows of the matter, Mr. Macaulay refers Again, the critic triumphantly asks, "what it to Francis' dying speech in the State Trials, and can signify, in a history of the reign of Charles to the Observator, July 29, 1685. Now both of II., that a writer, sixty years after the revolution," these authorities sufficiently prove that Francis describes how the houses in Bath were furnished? was a tory. In his dying speech he prays that He would have his reader imagine, what he could James may vanquish and overcome all his ene- hardly help knowing very well was not the case, mies, "which I am glad to have seen so much" that the writer, sixty years after the revolution,” prospect of," and also, "I cannot but regret my being made a sacrifice to the faction, who I am satisfied are the only people who will rejoice at my ruin." No one, acquainted with the language and feelings of the time these words were spoken, will doubt that Mr. Macaulay's character | ity one would think could be found of what hapwas perfectly just. But to make the matter cer- pened "sixty years since" than the evidence of a tain, L'Estrange, in the "Observator" above men- man who remembered it. tioned, speaks of Francis as " a true friend and servant of the government," terms which he never could or would have applied to any but a tory gentleman," which Mr. Macaulay was quite correct in calling him; and which, after all, is not the most opprobrious epithet which Mr. Macaulay could apply to one of that school of politicians.

66

was writing of the state of Bath at that time. The book is "Wood's History of Bath," published indeed in 1749, but in which the author describes what Bath was many years before, and speaks of the recollections of his youth. No better author

The reviewer makes an absurd mistake, and convicts himself of gross ignorance, about the two Echards, or Eachards. "Our readers," he announces rather pompously, "know that there was a Dr. John Eachard, who wrote a celebrated work on the Grounds and Occasions of the Contempt of the Clergy. They also know that there Again, Mr. Macaulay is accused of misrepre- was a Dr. Lawrence Echard, who wrote both a senting what Francis said about his wife, when history of England and a history of the revoluhe attributes to him the sentiment, that "had she tion. Both of these were remarkable men; but been inclined to break her marriage vow, she we almost doubt whether Mr. Macaulay, who would at least have selected a tory and a church- quotes the works of each, does not confound their man for her paramour." The critic says, that persons, for he refers to them both by the common Francis simply stated that his wife" was so well (as it may once have been) name of Eachard, and born, that had she been inclined she would not at least twenty times by the wrong name." have debased herself to so profligate a person (as ery one who knows Mr. Macaulay is aware that Dangerfield.") Mr. Macaulay may be a little this is the last kind of blunder he is at all likely paraphrastic, but the critic is absolutely false. to commit. But the blunder is all the critic's. He will not quote correctly. The original says, We do not say that he knew nothing of these "she was of too LOYAL A FAMILY so to debase" remarkable men," till he saw them mentioned herself." What does this mean, but that Dangerfield's politics would have protected her, if her own virtue was insufficient; and why, if it did not plainly mean this, did the critic stoop to pervert the passage?

Ev

in Mr. Macaulay's references; but had he known a little more of them, he would have been aware that they were of the same name, and nearly related; that though the name was sometimes spelt with an a, and sometimes without it, everybody who has occasion to mention them has always spelt both names alike-that when Lawrence himself mentions John he spells his name as he does his own-Echard; and that the Biographia Britannica spells them both Eachard. Can the depths of drivelling sink lower than this?

Mr. Macaulay is complained of for his scanty

The critic spends a page on a lecture to Mr. Macaulay for quoting in a foot note, one passage, and no more, of Lord Peterborough's character of Dangerfield—a task he might have spared himself had he attended to, or been fair enough to state, the object of the author in that quotation. Mr. Macaulay had been speaking of the probability of Francis having been jealous of Danger-catalogue of the luminaries of the English church field's intimacy with his wife, and chose Lord who flourished in 1685. The critic complains of Peterborough, who notoriously hated him, as an the omission of "Jeremy Taylor, Sanderson, Ken, unexceptionable authority for his being a likely Sparrow, Oughtred, Cudworth, Hall, Herbert, enough object of such a jealousy. Lord Peter- Godwin, Hammond, Fuller, Hooper, Pearson, borough was not, as the critic absurdly says, cited and a hundred others." The complaint is abas a witness to his character-but simply to his surd-and worse than absurd. Cudworth and appearance and address, having described him as Pearson are mentioned in the paragraph com"a young man who appeared under a decent figure, plained of. Ken is mentioned so often in the a serious behavior, and with words that did not book as not to require to be named again. As to seem to proceed from a common understanding." the rest, not one of them, except Hooper and Lord Peterborough was a good, because naturally Sparrow, were alive in 1685, and these are not an unwilling, witness to his personal advantages- very great names. Taylor had been dead

eighteen years; Sanderson twenty-two years; would, as usual, continue after the first cause Fuller and Hammond twenty-four years; Ough- might have ceased. tred twenty-five years; Hall nearly thirty years; and Godwin and Herbert nearly fifty years! And yet, these are the names which it seems Mr. Macaulay ought to have introduced as being the living lights of the Church of England in 1685!

The critic doubts if Mr. Macaulay ever read the Grand Duke Cosmo's Travels because he, the critic, could find nothing in the book derogatory to the birth of the English clergy. That he had read through this huge quarto volume to verMr. Macaulay is vehemently assailed for his ify, or rather discredit, our author's assertion, account of the social position of the clergy, and is good proof alike of his industry and his infor his construction of the royal order given by clinations. Next time, however, he consults the Bishop Sparrow in his collection. We shall en- book, let him turn to appendix A., where, after ter no further into this controversy than to make giving a list of the bishops, the Grand Duke says, two quotations, which show that, as usual, if Mr." They are of low birth, in consequence of certain Macaulay is wrong, he errs in good company. customs which have been introduced into the kingSelden, in his Table Talk, says, "Ministers dom."*

with the Protestants have very little respect; the But perhaps the most unblushing piece of igreason whereof is, in the beginning of the refor-norant and presumptuous fault-finding in this crimation they were glad to get such to take livings tique meets us a few pages on. Mr. Macaulay as they could procure by any invitations-things says that the English country gentleman "knew of pitiful conditions. The nobility and gentry the genealogies and coats of arms of all his neighwould not suffer their sons or kinsmen to meddle with the church, and therefore, at this day, when they see a parson they think him such a thing still, and there they will keep him, and use him accordingly. If he be a gentleman, he is singled out and used the more respectfully."

bors, and could tell which of them had assumed supporters without any right, and which had the misfortune to be aldermen." On which the better informed critic exclaims, "There was not one of these unlettered country gentlemen who could not have informed our historian that no such question about supporters had or could ever have arisen among private English gentlemen." It is scarcely necessary to say that, as usual, Mr. Macaulay is right; and the critic speaking about a matter of which he knows nothing. No point in heraldry has been more disputed than the right of English

The second quotation we make is from Jeremy Collier, who, in his Dialogues on Pride, evinces how clearly he understood the royal order, exactly as our author does. Philalethes, who represents Collier himself, is represented as saying-" Upon my word, this order, take it which way you will, has a very singular aspect, and looks as if in-private gentlemen to bear supporters. If our cotended to put the clergy in mind that they ought not to aspire above an Abigail."

It seems to us, however, that the order itself may be well explained, and the fact of the general lowness of the clergy's matrimonial alliances still further accounted for, by only recollecting the great queen's avowed predilection for the celibacy of churchmen; the contempt in which she held their wives, and the unprotected state in which she left their marriages. The act of Edward the Sixth, legalizing their marriages, which had been repealed by Mary, was not revived till the accession of James I. Laud publicly declared in the reign of Charles I. that in the disposal of patronage he should always prefer single to married men. So that, at all events, it must be easy to understand, that, while such impressions prevailed in high quarters, persons of good condition would never consent to let their daughters form connections which would, in the first place, draw on them the discountenance and reprobation of all the high social authorities—and, in the event of a return to papacy-or even to a more rigorous dis

cipline often contended for in the Anglican church itself, might make them and their children causes of shame and humiliation to their families. Under such circumstances it seems to us inevitable that the habit of forming low marriages must have been very general among the great body of the country clergy; and if once established,

temporary will look at Edmonson, (Mowbray Her-
ald's,)"Body of Heraldry," he will find the
following passage: "There have been many who,
although they were neither ennobled nor even en-
joyed any public office under the crown, assumed
and bore supporters, which were continued to be
used by their descendants until the extinction of
the family; as, amongst others, the Hevenings of
Sussex, the Stawells of Somersetshire, Wallops
and Titchbournes of Hants, Lutterells of Somer-
setshire, Popham of Hants, Covert of Sussex,
Savage of Cheshire, &c. Hence it may justly be
concluded that those families who anciently used
such supporters, either on their seals, banners, or
monuments, and carved them in wood or stone, or
depicted them on the glass windows of their man-
sions, and in the churches, chapels, and religious
houses of their foundation, endowment, and patron-
age, as perspicuous evidences and memorials of
their having a possessory right to such supporters,
are fully and absolutely well entitled to bear them."
After this, what is to be said or thought of the

which is apparently intended to confute, but in reality
*We have seen a book by a Mr. Churchill Babington,
very much confirms our author's views as to the clergy in
the seventeenth century. We may simply mention, to
neutralize the effect of a citation from the whig poet,
show this gentleman's idea of refutation, that in order to
Shadwell, representing a tory parson courting an Abi-
gail, he judiciously rummages out a tory pamphlet,
which represents a whig parson in the same situation!
+ Vol. i., p. 191.

flippant assumption of the critic, who declares the | ὡς ἀγαθή τε ἡ χώρα ἐστί, και άει καταπνεομένη ζεφύρας, right to supporters to be a question which “ never τοις ἔτους ἑκάστου ἀναδίδωσι τοὺς καρπούς. Εκείσε δ had and could never have arisen among English θαι, γράφοντες τοιάδε. φασι και τὰς τῶν ἀποβεβιωκότων ψυχάς διαπορθμεύεσα “ Περὶ τὴν ἀκτὴν τοῦ περὶ την country gentlemen!" Βρεταννίαν νήσον Ωκεανοῦ, ἄνθρωποι τινες οίκουσιν ἰχ υοθῆραι, κατήκοοι μὲν Φράγγοις, φόρον δὲ μὴ τελουν Tes autois," &c.*

There is one piece of philology on which Mr. Macaulay's censor ventures, which is hit off with so classical an air, and is yet so plainly the result of mere ignorance, that we cannot refrain from exposing it. We do it with less regret, that the topic is a curious one.

Mr. Macaulay refers, in his earlier chapters, to a legend related by Procopius, concerning the mysterious island of Britain. For this he is sharply corrected. It seems Procopius did not, and could not refer to Britain, but to another island, called Brittia, which, wherever it was, was not Britain. And then the critic says, in stern and solemn conclusion, “We again wonder that a grave historian should think that such a story could possibly relate to an island in possession of the greater part of which the Romans had been for upwards of four centuries, and introduce it to prove nothing as far as we can see but what we own it does provethat able historians may tell very foolish stories, and that an over anxiety to show one's learning may betray the smallness and occasionality of the

stock."

We need not, after this, say that, as usual, Mr. Macaulay had ample authority for what he said, and that the critic censured because he did not understand. It is not very likely, indeed, that the classical accuracy of Gibbon and Macaulay could be seriously impeached by an author who writes

ἐν μυρτου κλαδι τον ξιφον φορησω,

a line for the mutilation of which, a twig, not of
myrtle, but of birch, would be the only suitable
recompense.
The new reading would not have
been a greater shock to Frere and Canning in its
present place, than to Dr. Hawtrey in the exer-
cise of an Eton boy.

We stop here, because our space and our patience are alike exhausted. We might fill pages with errors as gross and exposures as palpable. We have only given our readers some means of estimating, as the well informed among them could easily have done without our help, how far the critic has succeeded in the very humble object of his ambition. But we are weary of beating the

air. We feel as we have sometimes done on a

summer evening, when with arms fatigued by a constant combat with the musquitoes, we retreat at last, and leave the field of battle to the victorious insects. Singly, none of them are worth the crushing, and life is too short to make away with

them all.

Suffice it to say, that of all the imaginary mistakes in fact, of which our cotemporary has labored to convict Mr. Macaulay, there is not one which does not, like the examples given above, proceed either on bold misquotation or palpable ignorance. We are wrong, however-there is Mr. Macaulay calls Sir Winston Churchill a baronet-when he was only a knight. But the error was corrected in 4000 copies in full circu

one.

Now this all sounds very learned, though we perfectly agree with the sentiment with which it concludes; but there are one or two things about the subject which the writer has still to learn. First, the man who penned the last sentence probably did not know that Mr. Macaulay is not the first " grave historian" who has given this proof of a scanty stock of learning. He will find in the thirty-eighth chapter of Gibbon the very legend given at length from Procopius, and attributed to Britain; and also a note in which Gibbon remarks, "The Greek historian himself is so confounded by the wonders which he relates, that he weakly attempts to distinguish the islands of Brittia and Britain which he has identified by so many inseparable circumstances." He will find also that the historian of Rome, so far from thinking it impossible that the legend could relate to an island *We subjoin a translation of the whole passage for the which the Romans had possessed for four cen- benefit of the less learned reader, and especially the eruturies, quotes this among other authorities to prove a great accommodation :-"Now concerning the islands in dite critic, to whom such assistance, we suspect, will be the singular fact that what had been "a Roman Ocean, Homer and our Hesiod himself, and Lycophron province was again lost among the fabulous islands and Plutarch, and Philostratus and Dion, and some others, of the Ocean." Yet Gibbon never took his learn-have given an account-how good the country is and how, ing at second hand. But further, Procopius having written in the sixth century, John Tzetzes, who wrote in the twelfth century, mentions the identical legend, with express reference to Britain. By that time England had taken its place as one of the great Norman kingdoms, and must have been emphatically known, from the communication which the crusades had opened with our western world. The passage occurs in his Scholium on Hesiod's Works and Days, 1. 169. (Gaisford's Poetæ Græci Minores, Oxon. 1820, vol. iii., p. 120.) It begins as follows:

Περὶ δὲ τῶν ἐν Ωκεανῷ νήσων ̔Ομηρος, καὶ οὑτοσὶν ὁ Ησίοδος, καὶ Λυκόφρων, καὶ Πλούταρχος, καὶ Φιλόστρατος, και Δίων, και ἕτεροι τινες συγγεγραφήκεσαν,

being fanned continually by Zephyrus, it produces three crops each year. And they say that thither the spirits of On the shore of the Ocean which surrounds the island the deceased are transported-writing in this mannerof Bretannia, dwell a race of fishermen, subjects of the Franks but not paying them tribute. These people while and are sensible of a bustle about their doors, and on getsleeping in their own houses, hear a voice calling them, ting up, they find certain vessels not their own, full of passengers. Embarking in these ships, in a single stretch, they could hardly reach it in their own ships, even under they reach the island of Bretannia rowing; although sail in a whole day and night. There they disembark and land their unknown passengers, and though they see no one, they hear the voice of persons admitting them and calling them by name and tribe and family and trade; and them in like manner making answer. And so they sail home again in one stretch, and perceive the ships lighter than when they had those passengers aboard. Hence all the sons of the Greeks say the spirits of the departed ldwell there.”

lation three months before this critique saw the As to the substance of the work, there is but light-and this, we believe, is the full extent of one fault which strikes us as important—and that the victory which has been gained over the his- would be a serious one, were it not tempered and torian in this contest de minimis. We therefore chastised in our author by a logical head, an acquit the subject, satisfied that the specimens we curate memory, and an instinctive love for fair have given leave nothing further to be said or play. His talent for description sometimes gets thought of this solitary grumbler. We would the better of him; and although he neither inrather, for the credit of our craft, that his sple-vents nor imagines incidents, it now and then hapnetic arrows had never been launched from such a pens that he loads a fact with more inferences and quiver. Were all the paltry cavils as true as they accessories than it can easily sustain. We have are absurdly false, they would not dim one single alluded to this before; and though we do not gem in Mr. Macaulay's glittering circlet. Being think that the ultimate impression conveyed can in untrue, they have only brought down deserved any instance be justly said to be exaggerated, he at derision on their author. Dryden, in "Mac Fleck- times colors his picture more from his inward renoe," has a forced, but striking conceit, that St. flection than the outward fact. His chapter on the Patrick's destruction of poisonous reptiles pre- customs and society of England in the seventeenth vented the malice of his countrymen from ever century may afford an example of what we mean being dangerous. Had this suicidal onslaught come from an Hibernian instead of an English pen, we might very justly have said with the poet, that

In his heart though venom lies,

It doth but touch his Irish pen-and dies. It was a great mistake to assail this work on the score of accuracy. Its author was the last man likely to be caught tripping on that head. But with all the praise, and not exaggerated praise, we have bestowed on it, there are faults which an ill-natured critic might enlarge on, and a friendly one point out. And with a word or two on these we shall conclude. The first lies on the surface; and is one of style. With great familiarity of expression on some few occasions, the author, nevertheless, is too constantly on his high-stepping steed, and trots over the common pathway with too uniform an air of grandeur. However brilliant the composition, and however much the interest excited may conceal the blemish, it is one which calls for correction; because, in the more humble, though necessary parts of the narrative, it throws an air of constraint over them. In his great efforts Mr. Macaulay never fails; and he makes great occasions out of materials which would be but ordinary to ordinary men. The defect which is most apparent-and, indeed, almost the only one in manner-is his difficulty in saying a simple thing simply.

where he has dashed off a picturesque conclusion, which, we are not satisfied, was always in nature quite so striking in all its features. This, perhaps, arises in some respects from the materials with which he was there obliged to work; his description being the concentrated reflection of rays borrowed from satirists, and caricaturists, and writers of fiction, with whom truth is always subservient to point and vivacity of effect. It is right, however, to say, that the defect we refer to occurs much more rarely in his narrative, and never when the occasion is important; and the discussion on the manners and habits of the time, though a graceful and almost necessary accompaniment to the narrative, may be supposed to admit of bolder speculation than the more austere parts of the volIt is necessary, too, to bear in mind, in criticisms of this nature, that, unless allowance is made for our different points of view and for our different estimates of the relative importance of different particulars, nobody would be safe in describing an event or drawing a character.

ume.

In his general view of the history of these times, we have nothing to condemn or to suggest. It seems to us, from first to last, fresh, coherent, and true.

Perhaps a northern whig might think that he has too little favor for the Puritans, and passes too lightly over the Scottish persecutions of

Charles and James the Second. But even in this case we do not say that he has not exercised a wholesome moderation.

We do not stop to quote examples. The reader, We now take our leave of Mr. Macaulay, not we admit, never wearies for an instant; and the without good hope of a speedy and happy meeting imposing glow and richness of the context prevents again. We trust that this noble foundation may their jarring on the ear or offending the judgment. be crowned with a structure still more magnificent Still it would be well to have the preludes and—and that he may live to complete the great monaccompaniments of so striking a piece in strict harmony and accordance with their immediate theme. It is not so great an art to say a common thing in common words, as to say a brilliant thing in splendid words: but it is also an art in its way.

Descriptas servare vices, operumque colores, is advice as old as Horace; and Mr. Macaulay would lose nothing in impressiveness, and would gain in taste and accuracy, by reducing the more level parts of the narrative to a more purely historical standard.

ument which he purposes to rear to the constitution
of his country. But should his fame as an his-
torian rest solely on the volumes before us, we ac-
knowledge them as a noble offering on the altar
will be venerated in after times as having been
of our liberties, and we doubt not their author
foremost in that first duty of patriotism—in train-
ing up for future years good citizens of that coun-
try, the intense and ardent love of which glows in
every page, and gives life to the fervid eloquence
of his
pen.

From Blackwood's Magazine.

PESTALOZZIANA.

Etiam illud adjungo, sæpius ad laudem atque virtutem naturam sine doctrina, quam sine natura valuisse doctrinam.-CICERO, pro Arch. 7.

Que vous ai-je donc fait, O mes jeunes années!
Pour m'avoir fui si vite, me croyant satisfait ?

all the results of their carefully conducted autop"here was a school composed of boys gathsy, ered from all parts of the habitable globe, where each, by simply carrying over a little of his mother tongue, might, in a short time, become a youthful Mezzofante, and take his choice of many in return; a school which, wisely eschewing the routine serVICTOR HUGO, Odes. vice of books, suffered neither dictionary, gradus, For the abnormal, and, we must think, some-grammar, nor spelling-book to be even seen on the what faulty education of our later boyhood-a few premises; a school for morals, where, in educatrandom recollections of which we here purpose to ing the head, the right training of the heart was lay before the reader-our obligations, quantula- never for a moment neglected; a school for the cunquæ sint, are certainly due to prejudices which, progress of the mind, where much discernment, though they have now become antiquated and ob- blending itself with kindness, fostered the first solete, were in full force some thirty years ago, dawnings of the intellect, and carefully protected against the existing mode of education in Eng- the feeble powers of memory from being overtaxed land. Not that the public-quû public-were-where delighted Alma, in the progress of her ever very far misled by the noisy declamations of the development, might securely enjoy many priviwhigs on this their favorite theme: 'people for the leges and immunities wholly denied to her at most part paid very little attention to the innuendoes home-where even philosophy, stooping to conof the peripatetic schoolmaster, so carefully primed quer, had become sportive the better to persuade; and sent "abroad" to disabuse them; while not where the poet's vow was actually realized-the a few smiled to recognize under that imposing mis- bodily health being as diligently looked after as nomer a small self-opinionated clique-free traders that of the mind or the affections; lastly, where in everything else, but absolute monopolists here- they found no fighting nor bullying, as at home, who sought by its aid to palm off on society the but agriculture and gymnastics instituted in their jocosa imago of their own crotchets, as though in stead." To such encomiums on the school were sympathetic response to a sentiment wholly pro- added, and with more justice than truth, a comceeding from itself. When much inflammatory mendation on old Pestalozzi himself, the real lib"stuff" had been discharged against the walls of erality of whose sentiments, and the overflowings our venerable institutions, not only without setting of whose paternal love, could not, it was argued, Isis or Cam on fire, but plainly with some discom- and did not, fail to prove beneficial to all within fitures to the belligerents engaged, from the oppo- the sphere of their influence. The weight of such site party, who returned the salute, John Bull | supposed advantages turned the scale for not a few began to open his eyes a little, and, as he opened them, to doubt whether, after all, the promises and programmes he had been reading of a spicand-span new order of everything, particularly of education, might not turn out a flam; and the authors of them, who certainly showed off to most advantage on Edinburgh Review days, prove anything but the best qualified persons to make good their own vaticinations, or to bring in the new golden age they had announced. Still, the crusade against English public seminaries, though abortive in its principal design-that of exciting a general defection from these institutions-was not quite barren of results. It was so far successful, at least, as completely to unsettle for a time the minds of not a few over-anxious parents, who, taught to regard with suspicion the credentials of every schoolmaster" at home," were beginning to make diligent inquiries for his successor among their neighbors "abroad." To all who were in this frame of mind, the first coleur de rose announcements of Pestalozzi's establishment at Yverdun were news indeed! offering as they did-or at least seeming to offer the complete solution of a problem which could scarcely have been entertained without much painful solicitude and anxiety. "Here, then," for so ran the accounts of several trustworthy eyewitnesses, educational amateurs, who had devoted a whole morning to a most prying and probing dissection of the system within the walls of the chateau itself, and putting down

just entering into the pupillary state, and settled their future destination. Our own training, hitherto auspiciously enough carried on under the birchen discipline of Westminster, was suddenly stopped; the last silver prize-penny had crossed our palm; the last quarterly half-crown tax for birch had been paid into the treasury of the school; we were called upon to say an abrupt good-by to our friends, and to take a formal leave of Dr. P———. That ceremony was not a pleasing one; and had the choice of a visit to Polyphemus in his cave, or to Dr. P― in his study, been offered to us, the first would certainly have had the preference; but as the case admitted neither evasion nor compromise, necessity gave us courage to bolt into the august presence of the formidable head-master, after lessons; and finding presently that we had somehow managed to emerge again safe from the dreaded interview, we invited several class-fellows to celebrate so remarkable a day at a tuck-shop in the vicinity of Dean's Yard. There, in unrestricted indulgence, did the party get through, there was no telling how many "lady's-fingers," tarts, and cheese-cakes, and drank-there was no counting the corks of empty ginger-beer bottles. When these delicacies had lost their relish —και ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο—the time was come for making a distribution of our personal effects. First went our bag of " taws" and "alleys," pro bono publico, in a general scramble, and then a Jew'sharp for whoever could twang it; and out of one