Imagini ale paginilor

These figures form one of the chief attractions to visitors to Lichfield Cathedral. The monument is situated at the eastern extremity of the south aisle, and bears on the pedestal, for its sole inscription, the following line, from MILTON,

Oh, fairest flowers! no sooner blown than blasted! The monument is so placed as to be relieved against a slab of black marble, reared on the wall behind to the memory of the late Rev. William Robinson himself, whose funeral memorial is thus made to form a dark pyramidal back-ground to the tomb of his own children. The figures on the monument are of the size of life. They represent the two sisters lying asleep in each other's arms in the most unconstrained and graceful repose. Never was sleep and innocence and artless beauty more happily expressed than in those beautiful and breathless images of death. The idea of paleness even in marble is retained on the countenances, and there is something in their whole appearance that tells of a sleep too still and deep for that of living beings. "In the midst of the greatest stillness, there are suggestions of a struggle ended and an anguish passed away." They were placed in the exhibition by the side of the Hebe and Terpsichore of Canova, and we are told that the goddesses obtained few admirers compared to them. So eager was the press to see them, that a look could not always be obtained; mothers stood over them and wept; and the deep impression they made on the public. mind must be permanent.

The following remarks by Mr. Britton, were penned in Lichfield Cathedral, with the monument immediately before him.

This memorial may be regarded as original in design, and tasteful in execution; and, as calculated to commence a new era in our national monumental sculpture, must be viewed with exultation by every real lover of art. From the demise of Henry the Eighth to the beginning of the present century, the sculpture of this country has rarely presented anything admirable or excellent. It has either exhibited a vulgar imitation of vulgar life, in monstrous costume, or tasteless copies of Greek and Roman models. The present age, however, is likely to acquire a better, and indeed a good character, and prove to surrounding nations, that while Britain is justly renowned for science, commerce, and arms, she boldly and confidently prefers a claim to competition with former ages in her artists. Some departments have certainly failed, either for want of talents or for want of patronage; but the sculptor is now publicly employed and publicly rewarded; and if something truly English, original and interesting is not produced, we shall still have cause to attribute the failure to the ungenial climate of Britain, or the want of talents in our countrymen. In traversing the abbey church of Westminster, and that of St. Paul's, we look in vain for tasteful and apposite English sculpture. Almost every subject is disfigured by unintelligible emblems, mythology and allegory; and crowded with lions, fames, and angels. It is time this incongruity of composition, this violation of taste, he avoided, and that a little of nature, of Shakspeare and of England be substituted in the place.

To appreciate Mr. Chantrey's monument fully and justly, we should inquire what has been effected by the sculpor; what is usually done, and what the art is susceptible of. The Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans have certainly left behind them many works of peculiar beauty and excellence; they have also bequeathed to us many pieces of inferior Workmanship. In the former we readily perceive their reference to nature as a prototype; and in the latter, the presumptions of art. It is thus with sculptors of the present age: most of them are wholly educated in the school of art -in studying and copying from the antique; whereas the greatest masters of the old world sought beauty of form and truth of expression in the inimitable and diversified face of nature. Hers is an unerring and unmannered school; it is untrammelled by laws and regulations: every student may readily obtain admission into it, and freely pursue the bent and energy of his genius. From this school arose the artist who executed the monument now under notice: he looked at living models and English forms for prototypes; and has skilfully extracted from the shapeless marble the resemblance of two pleasing female figures. These, however,

are not common-place forms, nor imitations of Venuses, Graces, or Hebes; but they faithfully and feelingly resemble the persons of young and lovely maidens. These are repreing the downy pillow, and that of the youngest reclining on sented as lying on a couch; the head of the eldest impress

the other's bosom. One of its arms is beneath her sister's head, and the other extends over the body. In one hand is a bunch of snow-drops; the blossoms of which are apparently just broken off, but not withered. The faces of both incline towards each other with apparent affection-the eyelids are closed, and every muscle seems lulled into still and serene sleep; all the other bodily members partake of the same serenity and repose. The arms and the legs, the fingers, and the very toes, are all alike equally slumbering: the drapery is also smooth and unruffled, and is strictly in unison and harmony with every other part of the design. The whole expression seems to induce silence, caution, and almost breathless solicitude in the observer. A fascinating effects and sentiments produced on myself in contemplating and pathetic sympathy is excited; at least, these were the it alone, and towards the close of day. Analyzing it as a work of art, and endeavouring to estimate its claims to novelty, beauty, and excellence, I must own that all my powers of criticism were subdued by the more impressive impulses of the heart. With these sensations, and with mingled emotions of admiration at the powerful effects of English art, and the appeals to nature, through this medium, I was turning away from the pleasing group, when the plaintive song of a robin, which had perched in the adjoining window, diverted the train of reflection, but touched another chord of the heart, which vibrated in perfect harmony.

The following little poems on these fair young sleepers are from the respective pens of MRS. HEMANS, and the REV. WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES.


Thus lay

The gentle babes, thus girdling one another,
Within their alabaster innocent arms.-SHAKSPEARE,

FAIR images of sleep,
Hallowed and soft and deep!

On whose calm lids the dreamy quiet lies,

Like moonlight on shut bells

Of flowers in mossy dells,

Filled with the hush of night and summer skies!

How many hearts have felt

Your silent beauty melt

Their strength to gushing tenderness away!
How many sudden tears,

From depths of buried years,

All freshly bursting, have confessed your sway!

How many eyes will shed,

Still, o'er your marble bed,

Such drops, from memory's troubled fountains wrung,
While hope hath flights to bear,

While love breathes mortal air,

While roses perish ere to glory sprung!

Yet from a voiceless home,

If some sad mother come

To bend and linger o'er your lovely rest,-
As o'er the cheeks' warm glow,

And the soft breathings low

Of babes, that grew and faded on her breast,

If, then, the dove-like tone

Of those faint murmurs gone,

O'er her sick sense, too piercingly return,-
If for the soft, bright hair,

And brow and bosom fair,

And life-now dust-her soul too deeply yearn,

O gentle forms! -entwined

Like tendrils, which the wind

May wave, so clasped, but never can unlink,-
Send from your calm profound

A still small voice, a sound

Of hope, forbidding that lone heart to sink!

By all the pure meek mind

In your pale beauty shrined,

By childhood's love-too bright a bloom to die,

O'er her worn spirit shed,

O fairest, holiest Dead!

The Faith, Trust, Light of Immortality!


than the English; but there is a difference between the Look at those sleeping children! softly tread

beggar-men and the rag-men, if I may so call them; in Lest thou do mar their dream, and come not nigh

dress they are pretty much alike, but one wears the Till their fond mother, with a kiss, shall cry

tatters of poverty, the other of indolence. When first “ 'Tis morn! awake! awake !"-Ah! they are dead! I came I was quite confounded at the intelligence and Yet, folded in each other's arms they lie,

good manners we found under the rags; their minds and So still-oh look! so still and smilingly,

bodies were in good repair, it was only external dilapidaSo breathing and so beautiful they seem

tion. A little old man, with a beard three weeks old at As if to die in youth were but to dream Of spring and Aowers!—of flowers ! yet nearer stand !

least, basking in the sun, his coat in shreds, and the There is a lily in one little hand

brim and crown of his hat declining partnership, received Broken but not faded, yet,

a shilling or two for a little job he had done, with a bow As if its cup with tears were wet :

and an air that was quite astonishing, and his “Sir, I So sleeps that child 1--not faded, though in death,

thank you; sir, I am obliged to your honour," was uttered And seeming still to hear her sister's breath,

in a way that reminded me of what we hear of old French As when she first did lay her head to rest

politeness,--he might have been the Chevalier de St. Gently on that sister's breast, And kissed her, ere she fell asleep ;

Louis selling his patés. The archangel's trump, alone, shall wake that slumber deep!

My rag-men and women do not seem to have a notion Take up those flowers that fell

that they are not very respectable; a timely needle and Froin the dead hand, and sigh a long farewell !

thread would have set all right, but the women are not Your spirit rests in bliss;

much addicted to stichery, and the very late hours of Yet ere, with parting prayer, we say

the lower class in the morning keeps them running Farewell for ever! to the insensate clay,

after time the rest of the day. An old farmer in our Poor maid! those pale lips we will kiss.Ah, 'tis cold marble!-- Artist, who hast wrought

neighbourhood, of considerable means and reputation This work of nature, feeling and of thought,

for skill, goes about in such a state of squalid ragThine, CHANTREY! be the fame

gedness, worse than many of the beggars, that for That joins to immortality thy name.

some time I wondered why he did not beg, and expected For those sweet children, that so sculptured rest,

every time I passed him to see his crutch tucked under A sister's head upon a sister's breast,

his shoulder, and his hat doffed for an alms. Not a bit,Age after age shall pass away,

the man is as independent as myself; but his wife milks Nor shall their beauty fade, their forms decay

her cows at 9 o'clock in the summer, and just gets up For here is no corruption,—the cold worm Can never prey upon that beauteous form ;

for the operation, and sent me word that after June she The smile of death that fades not, shall engage

should milk at 12, and at 5, or 6, or 7, just as it might The deep affections of each distant age;

be,--so the milk, and the butter, and the husband's gear Mothers, till ruin the round world hath rent,

are all in a sad state. My next milk-woman made a Shall gaze, with tears, upon the monument;

great merit of milking before 9, which however she And fathers sigh, with half suspended breath ;

rarely does, and in all the houses and shops, the same " How sweetly sleep the innocent, in death !”

morning dawdling is prevalent. They have a strange

notion that milk cannot be too old before they churn, SKETCHES OF IRISH MANNERS

and made of such half putrid stuff no wonder the butter, AND CUSTOMS.

bad at first, will not keep two days in an eatable state,

Many goats are kept in our neighbourhood, and a good II.

deal of goat-butter made: it was brought once to our The beggars in Ireland attract a great deal of attention house for sale; it was very white and uninviting, but the from strangers, and are regarded with surprising non- smell was less potent than the cow-butter beside it. I chalance by the natives: they come in gangs—in droves, had not courage to make an experiment on the flavour. -in every imaginable degree of "looped and windowed” The commissariat department is very perplexing at raggedness; yet generally speaking, hale, fat, and hand-first. “Would yer honour be plazed to require any mate ?" some; and personally cleaner than similar mendicants in said a ragged Patlander one day, lugging along a sheep England. I have only seen one woman who gave me

with so enormous a fleece that a little black face and any idea of destitution out of the hundreds that have four little hoofs alone peeped out, and they seemed very come to our house. Their manners are very strange. inadequate supporters of the mass. Not wishing to purMany of them open the house door, then open the chase a gentleman under so thick a disguise, we said we kitchen door, walk in and sit down, and begin to talk. would see him the next day, when he was dead, and take Some are content with opening the house door, and half. Something disconcerted the plan, till there was standing quietly,—now and then giving a little cough an inquiry what Pat O'Lack was doing? “Oh sure, to attract attention; when they are spoken to, they beg yer honour, he's selling a sheep." We sent down immewithout the servile whine of professional English diately; not a hoof was left, but he was going into the beggars. If they receive a halfpenny they are grateful, mountains to look for a sheep soon, and in the meanif they are denied they generally depart civilly, but time we had to forage as we could. Beef is so scarce sometimes all the saints are called down against us. here that when they do slay a bullock I wonder it is not Their incursions into houses are carried rather too far. by tuck of drum. Veal is unknown hereabouts, except A boy one day opened the house door and crept up stairs. by an extraordinary practice of killing and eating the The servants at first thought it was my step, but not new-born calf under the name of Staggering Bob. I being satisfied they came to the sitting-room, where I hear it is good, eating more like lamb than veal,- but I was found quietly occupied; they then ran up stairs, and have not seen any, nor do I fancy it would be offered for found the young gentleman in my bed-room, and he sale at gentlemen's houses. frankly confessed that he came for what he could get. The meat here is most horribly killed and generally As the master and the man-servant were out, he escaped cut up hot, or if allowed to hang a few hours, it shares the with a good scolding.

room with the family, as there is not such a thing as a They are considered very honest generally, and doors butcher's shop in the glens. One man has a dark hole in are left unlocked, and linen remains on the roadside which he kills his beasts, and without a window or air gap hedges night and day with perfect safety; but it was a of any sort, and where ne locks the carcase up, which of disagreeable adventure, and their noiseless approach course will not keep. We tried to persuade him to with their bare feet makes their appearance often quite remove a stone or two, and put up a lattice, which he startling Their language and manners are much better allowed would be a great advantage, but he has never

made the effort, and I dare say never will. For three months meat is scarcely to be procured in the mountain districts. The poultry-yard and the salting-pan are the great dependence, and woe to those who are not well provided against what is called the waur quarter: great quantities of poultry are reared in the cabins and brought round the country for sale and fattening, and to those used to shops and markets it is strange to see the distance they will trudge with a hen or a cock, or two or three chickens, a cargo worth from 8d. to 10d. Many have been greatly alarmed at being ordered to insert the quality and quantity of their poultry in the census papers, thinking some tax will be laid upon them, which will quite swallow up their small profits, and they are selling them off to avoid it.

I have wandered away from the beggars, and I must describe a very ragged old man who came to us one day begging: he was a hearty old fellow, much given to idleness and gathering, that is, collecting in an Edie Ochiltrie pack, small contributions of meal and potatoes on which he and his motherless children subsisted; he was offered work, but declined under various pretexts, but at last took a silver bribe and set to work with some masons who were about our house, which he was well able to do and had done before. At one o'clock he wanted very much to go home, he was hungry; knowing he would never return, a plateful of meat and potatoes was given to him, and he was asked if that would do? "That will it, right well;" he then worked on awhile, watched his opportunity, and had nearly escaped to the road that he might go gathering: he was brought back, and assured that if he left his work before the other men he would receive nothing. The repetition of this threat from time to time kept him tolerably to his business, but with much murmuring, though he knew his day's labour would keep him and his family in potatoes for a week. He seemed to have a true Edie antipathy to exertion, but a love of liberty, and to be bringing up his children to the same, and there are too many of his faction. Many of the beggars first plant their own potato ground, and then take to the road and live upon their fellow-creatures till the crop is ready, and then return to dig. The uselessness of the children is very striking: every day in the spring we saw the mother and the grandmother, and perhaps the father, weeding and trenching up the potatoes, and whole droves of stout fat boys and girls from four to fourteen lounging about on the walls and fences, playing or fighting, as might be, without an idea of assisting in the labour. If they can, they go to a school, where discipline seems often rather more strenuously enforced than would be approved in England. Besides this uselessness their cowardice is very curious: at least we have met with odd instances strangely in opposition to the independence of English children.

Our dairy-woman lives a short quarter of a mile from us, an excellent, well-frequented, open road the whole way, but in the evenings no child will bring down the milk. Sometimes three or four come paddling down, protecting each other, and guarding the little pitcher; but generally they are afraid, and our servants have to fetch in, contrary to an express stipulation with the woman. The utter indifference to rain amongst the children, is another oddity-I do not mean in the execution of errands, but merely on their own account. I see almost daily four little children, from two to five years, whose parents have comfortable homes and fires for them, but bare-headed and in torrents of rain, with bare necks and arms, this group of remarkably pretty children continue their gambols with each other, with our dogs, or even alone, as perfectly careless of their soaked condition as my ducks.

The Irish are reputed servile in their manners to their superiors: they are much changed, or I see with different eyes, for I think them extremely and curiously independent: they never touch their hats or curtesy; they con

tinue seated constantly, men and women, whilst I stand talking to them on business in my own house: they begin by asking more for everything than is fair, having determined what they will really take; and they are said often to make each other an offer before starting that they may with truth say they have refused such a price before coming to me. If their demand is altogether unreasonable and refused they go off in great displeasure, and frequently will return to the house no more. A woman said it was not worth her while to come out of her way to us with better fruit than that we refused, though she could not help passing within fifty yards of our door: this with a sure market would be nothing, or with any spare money; but with a very precarious sale, and not a penny before them, it is very strange. There is so little money circulating, that if we send for two or three shillings' worth of anything in the morning, in the evening, or the next day at furthest, comes a note"Dear sir,-Will your honour be plazed to settle my little account?" Even in great shops in large towns we were asked, in a very peremptory manner, for payment of some carpets and woollen furniture within five weeks of its arrival; and another shop in great business intimated a desire for payment ten days after the goods had been received, knowing perfectly well that from the awkward communication we could only pay one day in the week. Ready money is indispensable here: not one of our small venders can give one penny of change, and we are obliged to be fully prepared, which is rather troubleOur practice of receipts for everything surprises them: they send an old woman or a little child to receive their money, and doubtless think it very hard that we insist upon the creditor himself appearing with bill and receipt before we part with our coin.


The Irish will not rob, but they have no objection to cheat and over-reach, which they do very successfully for a time with strangers,-extremely indebted for their success to the number of people bearing the same name, for it is exceedingly perplexing amongst the many Mc Donnells, Mc Aulays, Mc Alisters, Mc Elherens, &c., &c., with whom one is concerned, to put Nats, and Mats, and Pats to the right persons. Having engaged to send a quantity of goods a certain distance for 2s. per cwt., by some ingenious manoeuvring and shuffling of namesakes and allies we paid above 10s., per cwt. perfectly aware we were cheated, but unable to extricate ourselves. Michael and Patrick and Donald all protested so vehemently that it was all right, and that "they would take legal measures against our honour's honour" if we did not pay each and all, that the usurious demand became the least evil. A written agreement to be sure would have secured us; but who thinks of such a thing with a carrier of excellent repute till experience has proved the necessity of the precaution?


Ir has been remarked by M. Arago, a distinguished French philosopher, that in the question whether the moon has any influence on the weather or not, there are two opposite opinions. The great mass of the people, including sailors, boatmen, and most practical farmers, entertain no doubt whatever of the influence of the moon: whether the change of the weather at the fullmoon, new-moon, or quarters, will be from fair to foul, or from foul to fair, few of them venture to prognosticate beforehand; but most of them think that a change of some kind will occur at those epochs. On the other hand, astronomers, and scientific men in general, attribute this opinion to popular prejudice; finding no reason in the nature of atmospheric tides for believing that changes should take place on one day of the lunation, rather than on another.

Under these circumstances Arago, and other scientific | tnan at full moon, although there seemed to be a greater men on the Continent, have carefully examined the probability of some rain falling at full than at new. observations which have been made on the weather in different years, with a view to discover whether any particular kind of weather takes place on the days of new and full moon. The first feature to which they have directed their attention is that of

Dr. Marcet examined these Genevan observations, with a view to determine whether a change of weather is more liable to happen on the four principal days of the lunar phases than on other days. But this expression, "change of weather," is in common parlance, taken in a very vague and indeterminate sense; and it therefore becomes necessary to give some precise meaning to it. Dr. Marcet limits the term to a change from clear weather to rain, or from rain to clear weather; and does not use the term unless the weather has been steady during two days at least. For example, a week has passed without rain; it rains on the eighth day, and on the ninth the weather is again fine; in this case he would not speak of a change of weather. So also if it has rained for five successive days, the sixth and seventh must be clear in order to constitute what he would designate by this term. Under these limitations of the expression "change of weather," Dr. Marcet found that in thirty-four years there had been 1458 such changes at Geneva, of which 54. occurred on the days of new moon, and 51 at full moon. If the changes occurred equally at every period of the moon's age, about 49 would occur on each day of the lunar period; consequently more changes of weather occurred on the days of new and full moon than on the average of other days. It appears also, that in two cases out of every three, the change of weather at new and full is from rain to fine, the change from fine to rain occurring only once out of three times. Upon the whole, an examination of the phenomena at Geneva lends some support to the common opinion of the influence of new and full moon, but none whatever to any special influence of the first and last quarters.

be com

Rain. There are three pairs of periods, if we may use the term, in which the moon's influence may pared; 1st. New moon and full moon, or the times when the moon is respectively nearest to and farthest from the sun; 2nd. Perigee and Apogee, or the periods when she is respectively nearest to and farthest from the earth, in the course of the monthly revolution; 3rd. North declination and south declination, or the times when the moon remains the greatest and the least number of hours, respectively, above the horizon in one day. The conclusions of Arago and others have been drawn principally from these several epochs. Dr. Mädler, of Berlin, made observations on the moon six times a day for sixteen years; from which he found that a somewhat less quantity of rain and snow falls at Berlin, while the moon is in apogee, than when in perigee.

Professor Schübler, of Tubingen, made a series of observations on the weather for the long period of twenty-eight years. He found, that in twenty years there had been 3066 rainy days, of which 1609 had occurred while the moon was increasing, i. e., passing from new to full; and 1457 while the moon was waning, i. e., passing from full to new. The greatest number occurred between "first quarter" and "full," and the least number between "last quarter" and "new;" the the other two periods being almost exactly equal to each other. As most of the years, when taken individually agreed pretty well with the combined result, it led to a tolerably safe conclusion, that in central Germany there is more probability of rain a little before full moon than a little before new moon, in the proportion of six to five. Schübler then varied his calculations, taking the actual day of "new," "full," &c., instead of periods of seven or eight days each. He found that in twenty-eight years, there had been 148 rainy days on the day of new moon, 156 on the day of the first quarter, 162 on the day of full moon, and 130 on the day of the last quarter, from which it appears that the day of full moon has been most subject to rain of these four; but he also found that at about half a week before full moon the chance of rain was still greater, and exceeded that of every other day in the lunar month.

M. Poitevin, at Montpellier in France, arrived at results different from those here indicated. He found, from ten years' observations, that at new moon there was one rainy day out of four, at first quarter one out of seven, at full moon one out of five, and at last quarter one out of four. Here we see that at Montpellier it rained more frequently on the day of new than of full moon; whereas a contrary result was observed in Germany. M. Pilgram, from observations made at Vienna, found that if there were 26 rainy days at new moon, there would be 29 at full moon, a result pretty well agreeing with that of Schübler. An extensive series of observations, made at Geneva for a period of thirty-three years, shew that the number of rainy days in that city, at the four epochs of the moon's age, arenew moon 123 days, first quarter 122 days, full moon 132 days, last quarter 128 days. Here the number is greater for full moon than for new, as in most of the other series of observations. But when actual quantity of rain is considered, instead of the mere number of days on which some rain may have fallen, a result is obtained which overturns any conclusions drawn from the above results; for if the quantity of rain which fell on the days of new moon be represented as 432, the quantity at first quarter was 430, at full moon 416, and at last quarter 369; thus shewing that more rain fell at new

Another mode of considering the effect of the moon is in relation-not to the actual precipitation of rainbut to the cloudiness of the sky, occasioned by the condensation of the watery vapour suspended in the air. In order to classify the observations on this point, Arago agreed to call a day "fine" if the sky were clear at seven in the morning, and at two and nine o'clock in the evening; and to apply the term "cloudy" if the sky were obscured at those times. He took sixteen years of observations at Augsburg, and found that at new moon there were 31 fine days, and 61 cloudy, at first quarter 38 and 57, at full moon 26 and 61, and at last quarter 41 and 53. These results agree pretty nearly with those before mentioned of Schübler's, which gave more rainy days in the week preceding full moon, than in any other week of the lunar month. The actual quantity of rain fallen, also agrees; so that whether we regard the probability of having a rainy day, the probability of having a cloudy day, or the quantity of rain, these observations by Schübler show the probability to be greater, at and near Augsburg, shortly before full moon, than at any other part of the month.

[ocr errors]

Schübler also corroborates the observations of Mädler, that a little more rain falls at and near perigee, than at or near apogee; that is, that the quantity of rain slightly increases as the moon approaches the earth. He found that in twenty-eight years, there have been 1169 rainy days in the weeks which have included the perigee, and 1096 in those which included the apogee. Pilgram's observations at Vienna gave a still more prominent exhibition of the fact, that more rain falls when the moon is nearest to, than when furthest from, the earth.

There have been too few extended and correct observations of weather, to admit of any undoubted conclusions being drawn; but on the whole, there appears some reason to believe, that on and shortly before the day of full moon, the weather is more rainy than at any other part of the month.

Barometrical Pressure.-Dr. Schübler has found at Berlin, that the barometer stands a minute degree higher


when the moon is in apogee than when in perigee. He | ON WILHEM'S METHOD OF TEACHING also found with respect to the age of the moon, that the barometer is higher on the day of new moon, and lower two days after full moon, than at any other date of the moon's age. These differences of height are, however, exceedingly minute, amounting to no more than onetwelfth of an inch. From four years' observations made in Western Africa, where the atmosphere is not exposed to such fluctuations as in Europe, the days of greatest and least barometrical height have been found the same as at Berlin, viz., new moon, and the second day after full moon, but the amount of difference is only one-sixtieth of an inch. At the same place there has also been observed an effect produced by the varying declination of the moon; the barometer being lower when the moon is at the greatest northern declination, than at other declinations.

M. Flangergues, from a series of twenty years' observations at Viviers, found that the barometer was higher at last quarter, and lower when the moon is about eleven days old, than at any other period. These dates, it will be perceived, do not correspond with those at Berlin. He also found that the height is greater at apogee than at perigee. Astronomers use the term "quadratures" both for the first and last quarters, and "syzygies" both for new and full moon; and we shall therefore be understood when we say that from the observations of Flangergues at Viviers, of Poleni at Padua, and of Bouvard at Paris, it is found that the barometer is a trifle higher when the moon is in quadratures than when in syzygies. M. Arago compared all these observations together very carefully, and came to the conclusion that the barometer is affected at certain periods of the moon's age: and that this effect is not produced by the same attractive force which produces the tides of the ocean, but some other force, whose nature is at present quite unknown to us.

Temperature. Dr. Mädler has found that the thermometer at Berlin is slightly higher when the moon is in apogee than when in perigee. He also perceived that the height is greater two days before the first quarter, than at any other period of the moon's age. The extremes of heat and cold occur less frequently between the new moon and the first quarter, than during the other parts of the period.

others of a similar kind, are from their very nature absurd, and ought to be utterly abandoned. The moon does appear to exert some influence on the weather, but not in such a way as to make these prognostics maintainable.



THE way to knowledge by epitomes is too strait, by commentaries too much about.

Vocal Music, as a means of expression, is by no means an unimportant element in civilization. One of the chief characteristics of public worship ought to be the extent to which the congregation unite in those solemn psalms or prayer and praise, which, particularly in the Lutheran churches of Germany and Holland, appear the utterance of through the people national sentiments is afforded by songs one harmonious voice. One of the chief means of diffusing which embody and express the hopes of industry and the The reader may now inquire in what state is the comforts and contentment of household life; and which question between the philosophers and the people? preserve for the peasant the traditions of his country's triDoes the moon exert the effect popularly insisted on?umphs, and inspire him with confidence in her greatness and The labours of Arago have certainly caused some change strength. in the view of the matter, for it appears extremely pro- It is still more important to remark, that the degrading bable that some effect is produced by the moon on atmo-habits of intoxication which at one time characterized spheric phenomena. But on the other hand, the amount the poorer classes of Germany are most remarkably of this action is far too slight to produce the effects often diminished since the art of singing has become almost as attributed to the moon's influence. As to the progcommon in that country as the power of speech; and this nostics which have been handed down from age to age improvement is in great part attributed to the excellent for centuries, Arago shows that they are utterly value- elementary schools of Germany. less. Among them are the three following:-1. "If, when the moon is three days' old, the horns of the cent appear clear and sharp, the sky will be serene during the whole of that month." 2. "If the upper born of the crescent appears blackish in the evening, when the moon is about to set, we shall have rain during the wane of the moon; if it is the lower horn, there will be rain before full moon; if the centre of the crescent be blackish, the rain wili come at full moon." 3. “If the moon, at four days' old, projects no shadow, expect bad weather." These prognostics, and many

The reader is probably aware, that a few years ago a cres-portion of Her Majesty's privy councillors were appointed as a "Committee of the Privy Council on Education." The office of this Committee is to superintend certain arrangements arising out of an annual parliamentary grant for educational purposes; and their attention was after a time directed to the subject of vocal music in schools. The secretary to the Committee was empowered to make such inquiries both in foreign countries and in England, as would enable the Committee to form some plan of proceeding. In the first place, it was necessary to ascertain how far singing had been carried in our elementary schools, how far the national taste seemed to lead that way, and whether there are any obstacles, in of "voice" or 66 ear," to the attainment of moway derate musical skill among us. In a "prefatory Minute," subsequently published by the Council, it is stated that:— The information derived from the inspectors of schools, and from various other sources, had made the Committee of



A VERY notable change has taken place during the present century, in the mode of imparting instruction to large bodies of pupils. Formerly a master had to undergo the toil of instructing each pupil separately; and too often one pupil was idle or worse than idle while the master was attending to another. When Dr. Bell and Mr. Lancaster, the one in connection with the Established Church, and the other distinct from it, founded their respective schools for the instruction of the poor, they adopted the system of division into classes, by which many pupils could be instructed simultaneously, each class being superintended by a monitor or assistant teacher.

To trace the progress of these schools, and of others on a similar system, is no part of our plan. We shall at once proceed to our object, viz., to detail the remarkable and interesting attempt now being made to teach VOCAL MUSIC on a similar plan. An observant individual can hardly fail to have remarked the movement which English society has lately made in this direction:

Choral Societies, Sacred Harmonic Societies, and other associations for the practice of vocal music, have been formed in great number, and are largely attended by persons principally of the middle classes. When this circumstance became gradually known and appreciated by the benevolent persons who desire to impart the blessings of education to the poor, it became a subject for thought, whether vocal music might not aid in elevating the moral character of the people. In an official document, to which we shall more particularly allude presently, it is well observed that,

« ÎnapoiContinuați »