TOBACCO SMOKING. SONG THE SPRING. I KNOW where by Life's wayside Or there so often be; For it for none does outward flow There is an article much used in various ways, though not as an aliment, the deleterious effects of which on the assimilating organs require to be briefly noticed-namely, tobacco. Although confessedly one of the most virulent poisons in nature, yet such is the fascinating influence of this noxious weed, that mankind resort to it in every mode they can devise to insure its stupifying and pernicious agency. Tobacco disorders the assimilating functions in general, but particularly, as I believe, the assimilation of the saccharine principle. I have never, indeed, been able to trace the development of oxalic acid to the use of tobacco; but that some analogous and equally poisonous principle (probably of an acid nature) is generated in certain individuals by its abuse, is evident from their cachectic looks, and from the dark and often greenish-yellow tint of the blood. The severe and peculiar dyspeptic symptoms sometimes produced by inveterate snuff-taking are well known; and I have more than once seen such cases terminate fatally with malignant disease of the stomach and liver. Great smokers also, especially those who employ short pipes, and cigars, are said to be liable to cancerous affections of the lips. But it happens with tobacco as with deleterious articles of diet-the strong and healthy suffer comparatively little, while the weak and predisposed to disease fall victims to its poisonous operation. Surely if the dictates of reason were allowed to prevail, an article so inju--New York Literary World. rious to the health, and so offensive in all its forms and modes of employment, would speedily be banished from common use.-Prout on Stomach Diseases. GOOD FOR A GOOSE. Ask you where by Life's wayside, On what enchanted ground, Look down into your heart, my love, And while I trace the outward flow, LOSS OF STRENGTH. The loss of our strength is much oftener occasioned by the vices of our youth than by the ravages of age; it is early intemperance and licentiousness that consign to old age a worn-out constitution.—Cicero. CHAMBERS'S YOUNG PEOPLE A SERIES OF SMALL BOOKS, AT ONE SHILLING EACH. My brother and I have often been asked to The Rev. Cæsar Otway, in his recently-published paper on 'The Intellectuality of Domestic Animals,' gives the following anecdote, which is by far too good not to receive the benefit of a wider circulation:-At the flour mills of Tubberakeena, near Clonmel, while in the possession of the late Mr Newbold, there was a goose, which, by some acci- LIBRARY FOR dent, was left solitary, without mate or offspring, gander or goslings. Now it happened, as is common, that the miller's wife had set a number of duck-eggs under a hen, which in due time were incubated; and of course the ducklings, as soon as they came forth, ran with natural instinct to the water, and the hen was in a sad pucker-publish some small books for your special instruction and amuseher maternity urging her to follow the brood, and her selfishness disposing her to keep on dry land. In the meanwhile up sailed the goose, and with a noisy gabble, which certainly (being interpreted) meant, leave them to my care, she swam up and down with the ducklings; and when they were tired with their aquatic excursion, she consigned them to the care of the hen. The next morning, down came again the ducklings to the pond, and there was the goose waiting for them, and there stood the hen in her great flustration. On this occasion we are not at all sure that the goose invited the hen-observing her maternal trouble-but it is a fact that she, being near the shore, the hen jumped on her back, and there sat, the ducklings swimming, and the goose and hen after them up and down the pond. And this was not a solitary event: day after day the hen was seen on board the goose, attending the ducklings up and down, in perfect contentedness and goodhumour; numbers of people coming to witness the circumstance, which continued until the ducklings, coming to days of discretion, required no longer the joint guardianship of the goose and hen. VALUE OF AN OLD COAL-PIT ROPE. Among the numerous worn-out and often considered worthless materials which the ingenuity of man has discovered means of remanufacturing, and rendering of equal value with the original substance, are old tarred ropes, which have been long in use at coal-pits. Our readers will be surprised when we inform them that out of this dirty (and apparently unbleachable) substance is produced a tissue paper of the most beautiful fabric, evenness of surface, and delicacy of colour-a ream of which, with wrapper and string, weighs only two and a half pounds. It is principally used in the Potteries, for transferring the various patterns to the earthenware, and is found superior to any other substance yet known for that purpose. It is so tenacious, that a sheet of it, twisted by hand in the form of a rope, will, as we are informed by Mr Fourdrinier, the manufacturer, support upwards of a hundredweight. Truly we live in an age of invention.-Mining Journal. ment; but for a number of years, we have had so many other things to do, that we have never yet been able to comply with the request. We now intend, however, to issue a few books of this kind. The subjects of some of the volumes will be of an instructive nature; one, at least, will be poetry; but the greater number will consist of moral and religious tales, written for your entertainment and benefit. The first which appears will be a story by Miss EDGEWORTH, a lady who has written many tales for youth, and ¦ who has kindly assisted in the present undertaking. MBS HALL and some other ladies have also promised to write for these books; and from the French of MADAME GUIZOT, EUGENIE FOA, and others, will be procured some interesting new translations. It may be agrecable to your parents to know, that the subjects will be designed to influence the conduct and feelings, and that the general aim will be to make you better and happier. You will probably be anxious to know what is to be the appearance of these books. It is to be something different from that of children's books generally. I remember, when a boy, being much pleased with a variety of little volumes published by the good MR NEWBERY, at the corner of St Paul's Churchyard.' I intend to revive Mr NEWBERY'S style of publication. His books were not thin soft covered things, but real volumes with hard boards, brilliantly ornamented with figures in colour and gold. These are the sort of books which I am going to prepare; only they will be much more beautiful; and each will be illustrated with a frontis piece. It is proposed to publish only a small number, one to come out every month till all are issued. The price of each will be a shilling. The first book will appear towards the end of December, so as to be adapted for a Christmas and New-Year's gift. Perhaps your papa or mamma may present you with a copy, and also order a volume to be afterwards sent home every month; by this means a row of elegant little books, at a small expense, will be procured for the nursery library. EDINBURGH, Nov. 10, 1847. W. C. Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, High Street, Edinburgh. As sold by D. CHAMBERS, 98 Miller Street, Glasgow; W. S. OB, 147 Strand, London; and J. M'GLASHAN, 21 D'Olier Street, Dublin.-Printed by W. and R. CHAMBERS, Edinburgh. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,' 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE,' &c. No. 206. NEW SERIES. SATURDAY, DECEMBER 11, 1847. A NIGHT ADVENTURE ON LAKE SIMCOE. THE rigour of a Canadian winter is such as to enchain in icy bonds, for several consecutive months, the secondrate lakes of the continent. In the higher latitudes of the province, the ice acquires an almost incredible thickness, defying for a long time the influences of spring; and when it yields at length, about the month of May, choking up the rivers, by which it attempts to descend in crowded and fantastic masses, and causing inundations, at all times inconvenient, and sometimes fatal both to life and property. As soon as these great bodies of fresh-water are frozen, an active intercourse immediately strikes up between the different points on the shores of such of them as have become either wholly or partially encircled with an industrious population. Districts of country which, in the summer season, are only accessible to each other by toilsome and circuitous journeys, thus experience, when winter sets in, all the advantages of a direct intercommunication. It is during the winter season that the traffic and intercourse between the rural districts and the towns reach their greatest height, the majority, particularly of the more distant farmers, reserving their visits to the different markets of the province until the smoother and more direct roads of winter can enable them to perform their journeys with greater speed and less toil. Fearlessly as it is generally undertaken, a journey across one of the great frozen masses of the North American continent is not always unaccompanied with danger. The following incident will exhibit, to some extent, the nature and amount of the peril which is thus occasionally encountered. Amongst the American lakes of the second class, Lake Simcoe ranks as one of the largest. Its extreme length is about forty miles; its width, at some points, being nearly thirty. It is situated in the midst of a beautiful and fertile district lying between Lakes Huron and Ontario; its distance from the latter, due north from the city of Toronto, being forty miles; whilst its northern extremity approaches to within five-andtwenty miles of the former, into which its superfluous waters are discharged by the river Severn, whose short course is frequently interrupted by successive cascades and brawling rapids. The shores of the lake are such as to strike every beholder with their beauty, being indented with numerous bays, some of which run far up into the land, and retreating at many points, in graceful undulations from the water, crowned with the beech and the maple, the birch, the hickory, and the live oak of Canada. It is approached from the capital of Canada West by a fine macadamised road, on either side of which the forest has been cleared away, the whole route being lined with elegant man PRICE 11d. sions, and comfortable and commodious farmhouses. In the social organisation of Canada, wealth has not as yet marked out a very numerous class for its own; but the shores of Lake Simcoe are destined to be the future retreat of the wealthy and refined class, to which the progress of the colony will give rise. In less than fifty years it will be encircled with the villas and country mansions of those whom circumstances will enable to retire from the bustle and activities of life. Already have many English families with limited means settled in its neighbourhood, and the axe of the husbandman is rapidly transforming the whole aspect of the circumjacent country. Like other lakes of its class in these latitudes, Lake Simcoe yields to the rigours of winter, and becomes perfectly ice-bound for several months in the year. In the month of December 184-, in company with two friends, I undertook the passage of the lake upon the ice, which had then been formed for several weeks. We started without dreaming of danger, inasmuch as the roads, which had been marked off in various directions across its surface, had been traversed for some time with perfect safety. For two or three days previously, the thermometer had ranged at from 10 to 15 degrees below zero; but a marked change had suddenly taken place in the temperature, the mercury having risen several degrees. Our object was to cross from the Holland Landing, the nearest point of the lake to Toronto, to the town of Bonie, on Kempenfelt Bay on the opposite side, and lying in a north-westerly direction from us. Night was fast setting in when we started; but as the moon was then about full, and the sky clear, we set out with every anticipation of a pleasant sleigh-ride over the broad and glistening expanse of the fettered lake. With a good horse, a couple of buffalo robes, and with ample provision for man and beast-for we had a journey of about thirty miles before us, and there were no inns on the road-we wanted nothing that could minister to our comfort. No road of life, however, is smooth, even though it should be over ice; and we had scarcely emerged from the low and sedgy banks of the Holland River, which was quietly emptying itself into the lake under our feet, when we encountered one of those rents or chasms which so frequently permeate large masses of ice, and which sometimes serve effectually to interrupt the road, unless the traveller is provided with the means of overcoming them. These rents are formed by the inability of the ice to sustain its own weight; and when they occur in the winter covering of large masses of water like Lake Simcoe, they frequently extend from one end of the lake to the other. The water, with which they are immediately filled up, seldom freezes; and when the ice is covered with a thin sprinkling of snow, the eye can trace them for miles, like the blue veins which underlie a clear and brilliant complexion. Although they are not always of sufficient width to offer any serious impediment to a journey, it is nevertheless a matter of prudence in the traveller to possess himself of adequate means of crossing them. This is generally done by attaching to the bottom of the sleigh two or three planks, which can be thrown over the chasm, should there be need, in the form of a temporary bridge, over which the vehicle can be easily pulled or pushed, the horse being in the meantime detached from it, and having to trust for his gaining the opposite side to the powers of leaping with which nature may have endowed him. The propriety of providing ourselves with the necessary materials for putting such a device into execution, was made manifest to us by this our first interruption, the rent which we encountered being sufficiently formidable to call into exercise all our pontoon accomplishments. We got safely across, without further cost than that of a little delay, and proceeded merrily on our journey, occasionally enlivening our way with a song, and satisfied that we could have but little to complain of if all our obstacles should be as easily Overcome. across its disk of a small cloud, dark and watery-looking in the centre, but fringed with lighter and fleecy vapours. It passed swiftly by, and its shadow sped over the frozen lake, as if it marked the flight of an eagle. In its lower strata, the air was motionless a before; but the winds were madly careering aloft, as was plainly indicated by the rapid and fitful motions of the clouds, which now mottled the eastern half of the sky, whilst the horizon beyond was shrouded in an impervious screen of dark stormy vapour. We were sufficiently acquainted with the climate to know what this sudden change in the aspect of things portended; and as we had still many miles before us, we became anxious for the termination of our journey. The road was but here and there slightly traced; and should the night become dark, our position would be very unconfortable, to say the least of it. It is usual for those who traverse the lake, to stop about half way and bait their horses on the ice; but we had no longer time to spare for such a detention, and proceeded at an accelerated pace. We had already encountered several chasms, similar to that which had first obstructed our course; but owing to their no great width, and aided by the light of the moon, we easily passed them. T overcome them in the dark, however, would be quite another matter; and darkness was now fast stealing around us. The angry horizon rapidly unfolded its vapours, and the moon was at length completely obscured. No sooner had the last gleam of light forsaken the sky, than the wind began to beat around us in fitful and eddying gusts. The snow, which lay lightly upon the ice, was lifted up and thrown rudely against our faces. Our position was every moment becoming more and more discouraging, and we at length began to give way to apprehensions for our safety. Land was, in every direction, many miles distant, and we were hemmed in by treacherous chasms on every side. This was no pleasant predicament in which to be overtaken by the The shadows of evening had scarcely closed around us, ere the moon rose in her full-orbed splendour. Adequately to describe the scene which her silvery light displayed to us is next to impossible. The sky was without a cloud. As night advanced, the eastern horizon was bathed in that glorious flood of pearly lustre, which the moon, in the clear atmosphere of America, pours over earth and heaven. To the westward, the sky gradually darkened into the deepest blue; imbedded in which, the far-off stars twinkled with a brilliancy unknown in our murky climate. The loneliness and stillness of the scene were absolutely oppressive. Had I been alone, the conviction would easily have settled upon me that I was that unhappy wretch-the last man.' Not a sound stirred in the air, except that of our own voices, which we sometimes strained to the uttermost, to catch, if possible, an echo; but in vain—howling tempests of a boisterous winter night. The our appeals met with no response, and all around us was as still as death. As far as the eye could reach, a belt of spectral pines lined the shore, whose sombre and dusky forms contrasted strongly with the glistening ice. Their branches were heavily laden with snow, and gleamed in the moonlight with myriads of pendent icicles. The more distant shores of the lake looked ghastly and shadowy; whilst towards the north, in the direction of its greatest length, the vast plain of ice which we were traversing appeared to stretch to infinity, merging into the horizon, as if it led to heaven. A lovelier night never shone on earth-a more beautiful and impressive scene was never witnessed. As we were in no hurry, we proceeded at a leisurely pace, guided in our course by a wide breach, which was observable in the broad shadow that lay under the high bank forming the eastern shore of the lake, and which we knew indicated the entrance to Kempenfelt Bay. It was but natural that our conversation, as we proceeded, should turn upon the prospects, social, political, and economical, of the magnificent country which spread around us, and which, with few exceptions, still rioted undisturbed in all the wild luxuriance of nature. Engaged in this manner, we were insensible to the indications which were accumulating around us, that the repose of the elements was soon likely to be disturbed. The first that we observed was the momen tary obscuration of the moon, caused by the passage darkness which had so suddenly succeeded to the bril liant moonlight, was now nearly complete, and to add to our discomfiture, the wind was almost directly in our teeth. Nothing was wanting to impart a climax to our perplexity but a blinding fall of snow; nor was this wanting long. A few large and ominous flakes spotting the buffalo robes in which we now wrapped our selves, gave token of its approach; after which the storm rapidly progressed in its fury, when the gloom cast upon our spirits was only exceeded by the st deeper gloom which reigned around us. Faster and faster fell the drifting snow, and more dismally howled the wintry wind as we crawled along, feeling our steps, in momentary expectation of encountering another rent in the ice, which our present position would have redered dangerous in the extreme. It seemed as if the elements had conspired to torment us; for the snow, which now beat against us in masses, when it fell, refused to lie, but mounted again on the wings of the tempest, to mingle with the falling flakes; and it was not until it had been whirled about for some time in furious eddies, that it was at length deposited in fartastic drifts upon the ice. Every trace of the road was now blotted out; and as no distant landmarks were discernible for our guidance, we proceeded for some time in an uncertain course, with nothing to guide us but the direction of the wind, which we knew to be easterly. We had every now and then to encounter heavy snow drifts, that had rapidly accumulated in our path, through which we penetrated with some difficulty; but consoling ourselves with the reflection that, if they were toilsome, they were not dangerous, like the yawning chasms, of which we stood in constant dread. We exerted ourselves to the utmost to proceed; but at length, weary and benumbed with cold, and unable any longer to face the pitiless storm, we came to a halt, without a tree or bush to shelter us from the tempest. Our first care was to do all in our power to protect both our horse and ourselves from its fury, which we did by turning our vehicle in the contrary direction to that of the wind. We had but two buffalo robes along with us, one of which we threw over the horse, huddling under the other in the sleigh for warmth and shelter. There we remained for some time, in the hope that the storm would ere long abate somewhat in its fury. Nor were we disappointed in this respect. After waiting for about twenty minutes, it sensibly relaxed. It was still almost pitchy dark, but the wind had fallen considerably, and the snow fell more sparingly than before. We resumed our journey-if crawling along, one leading the horse, the other moving cautiously a little in advance, to ascertain that the ice was safe, can be called a resumption. Thus we proceeded for some time, in utter uncertainty as to the point to which our weary footsteps were leading us; and almost sickened at the thought, that, on the most favourable calculation, fully four miles of treacherous ice yet intervened between us and land. We had made but little progress in this way, when, to our dismay, the wind began once more to increase in violence, and we were compelled again to seek what shelter we could by coming to a dead halt. We had scarcely done so, however, when our alarm took a new direction. We were startled by a dull deep sound, resembling a heavy but smothered crack, which arose to our left, and apparently in the vicinity of the shore; and which, after a moment's cessation, was repeated, and, growing louder and louder, seemed to approach the spot where we stood, and to which we were now rivetted with terror. For a few moments we listened, unconscious of its cause, but recognised it, as it came nearer and nearer to us, bellowing like thunder. It seemed to pass swiftly about a hundred yards in advance of us; and although still in fear, we could not refrain from mutual congratulations on having escaped the danger. As it receded to our right, it became fainter and fainter, until at length it resembled the sound of musketry heard at a distance, and finally died away amongst the bays and promontories at the upper end of the lake. The whole proceeded from the occurrence of one of the physical phenomena of these wintry regions. The ice had, in fact, opened another seam; and in doing so, it roared as if it had been racked with pain. As it swept by, we clung instinctively to the sleigh, for the chasm might have opened beneath our feet. As this might prove a crowning difficulty to us, we cautiously advanced to ascertain its extent. We had not proceeded far, when we heard the water beating in small ripples against the newly-rent ice. It was so distinct, that even the horse seemed to recognise it; and with unerring instinct, recoiled a step or two from the danger. There was now no alternative before us but to retrace our steps, or to remain where we were until morning. Between the two, however, there could be no hesitation, and we at once determined to remain. We could gain nothing by retreating; for, to say nothing of our having already crossed the greater portion of the lake, there were dangers behind us similar to those before. The width of the newly-opened seam we ascertained to be about four feet at the point where we stood. Dark and stormy as it was, half that width would have deterred us from attempting to cross it. We therefore prepared to bivouac for the night. Retreating some distance from the chasm, we unharnessed the horse, and turned the sleigh on its side, to protect us from the wind and the still drifting snow. The horse we tied by the reins to the sleigh, and left him to forget the cold in an ample feed of oats, which we placed before him. We then sat down, enveloped in our buffalo skins, under the shelter of the sleigh, in which posture we determined to remain until returning light should enable us to pursue our journey. We were obliged, however, frequently to spring to our feet, and move briskly about, in order to counteract the insidious and benumbing effects of the cold, to which one of my companions, despite of remonstrance, was fast giving way. Determined to rescue him from the dangerous lethargy which was stealing over him, and finding persuasion useless, I resorted to the device of provocation. By degrees I managed to rouse him into a towering passion, which restored his languid circulation; and saved him, by arousing him to a state of physical activity. The weary hours at length crawled by, and a dull, grayish light in the east betokened the approach of morning; but with it came no abatement of the tempest. The thick air was still oppressed with its heavy burden of snow, of which it seemed vainly endeavouring to rid itself. But the approach of light had deprived the scene of nine-tenths of its horrors, and we lost no time in preparing to resume our journey. The cold had by this time, however, so enfeebled us, that it was with difficulty we succeeded, by our conjoint efforts, in restoring the sleigh to its right position. I held the horse, whilst my companions proceeded to reconnoitre the chasm, to select the most favourable point for crossing it. Whilst they were so engaged, I had to shout occasionally to them, with all the strength that remained to me, to enable them to rejoin me, for the light was still faint, and the heavy snow, mingled with the drift, soon hid us from each other. The noise thus occasioned, or something else, which it is not now necessary to ascertain, caused the horse to become restive. I tried to soothe him, but failed, and my hand was not strong enough long to retain the rein. Finding himself at liberty, he darted off, and ran past my companions, who made a vain effort to stop him. We followed him for a few seconds in the direction he had taken, until at length a heavy splash warned us that further pursuit might be as dangerous as it was useless. We cautiously approached the spot whence the sound proceeded, but on reaching the chasm, could find no trace of the poor animal, save a little blood, which the feeble light enabled us to discern staining the snow on the opposite side, and which showed that his head had come in violent contact with the ice in tumbling into the water. We had now no alternative left but to prosecute our journey on foot. To cross the chasm, it was necessary to resort to our planks; but these were no longer at our command, being by this time buried under a heavy wreath of snow. We made several ineffectual efforts to recover them, and at last gave up the attempt in despair. Our situation was now more than ever hopeless. We had not sufficient strength left us to overcome the chasm by a leap, nor were we in a condition to undertake a journey of five-and-twenty miles, which an attempt to retrace our steps would have involved. Exhausted and benumbed, and in utter despair at our situation, we once more resorted to our buffalo skins, wrapped in which we again lay down under the shelter of the sleigh. The storm raged wildly as before, and although the sun had been now more than half an hour above the horizon, the thick atmosphere seemed to absorb its struggling beams, and nothing but a dull grayish twilight was the result. It was again with extreme difficulty that we prevented one another from yielding to that drowsy lethargy which, under such circumstances, is the sure prelude to dissolution. Our powers of resistance would have sustained us but little longer, when hope again shed its cheering light into our souls. A solitary gleam of wan and struggling sunlight suddenly passed over us, but was instantly swallowed up again by the drifting clouds. It was an omen of good, and we hailed it with a feeble shout. With renewed prospects of life and future happiness in store for us, our energies once more revived, and we sprang instantly to our feet. The spell of the storm was broken; it had spent its fury, and torn itself to pieces in its wrath. The vapoury masses, which had shrouded the heavens and deluged earth with snow, were rent asunder on all sides; the sky gradually lightened of its burden; and in half an hour's time, over the vast surface of the lake--to which the myriad snowwreaths now imparted as stormy an appearance as its unchained waters had ever worn when lashed into billows by the wind-the shadows of the broken and fastdrifting clouds were sporting themselves in the dazzling sunlight. genial to the people of that classic land than to the ruder spirit of the Gothic nations; and the destruction of the Greek Empire, by scattering abroad the learning and the learned men of Greece, afforded facilities for acquiring a knowledge of the ancients which had before been unattainable. All the leading men of Italy were seized with the passion for letters. Manuscripts were collected, libraries formed, and schools instituted for the teaching of Latin and the study of the classics. The step thus made was of immense importance, for a || literature worth reading was reintroduced into Europe, and it began to be thought necessary that men should It is unnecessary to prolong the recital. After con- be able to read it. Once awakened to the advantages siderable search, we discovered a point at which we of mental culture, the intellect of the age, elevated by could safely cross the chasm which had so unseason- the tuition of masters so superior to any previously ably yawned across our pathway during the night. We known, expanded the more the more it was cultivated. had not proceeded far on our way towards Bonie, when, So far the good done was unalloyed; but it did not long to our inexpressible joy, we perceived a sleigh making remain so. directly towards us. It was driven by our warm-hearted In looking back on the history of education, as it is friend Mr to visit whom was the object of our understood now, and as it was spoken of till within a journey. Aware of our intention to make a night pas- comparatively recent period, we shall see that opinions sage of the lake, our non-arrival, coupled with the have changed rather with regard to the theory than storm which had occurred, gave rise to apprehensions the practice of this science. Every propounder of a in his mind which induced him to start off in search of system of education, and every schoolmaster, however The relief which his appearance gave us was more closely he may stick to the antiquated system in the than seasonable. We jumped into his sleigh, and made method of teaching, will tell you that his ultimate for land at as rapid a pace as the loose deep snow, with object is the general training and expanding of the which the ice was now covered, would permit us. On mind, the strengthening and cultivation of the facularriving at our journey's end, we inured ourselves gra- ties, and the fitting of the youth for the business and dually, as was but prudent, to the warmth of the house; the duties of the man. As to the best means to this and when, shortly afterwards, seated by the large, crack-end, we have many questions, but all agree that school ling, blazing log-fire, which leaped and roared in the ample chimney around which we were ranged, its comfortable heat, together with the happy faces and cordial welcomes of those around us, made us forget for a time the miseries of the night, and the painful apprehensions of the morning. us. learning is only the means by which their object is to be attained, not the object itself, and in that object they agree. This distinction, merely verbal though it may at first appear, between the object and the mode of education, is not unimportant, since it is to the confounding of the two-in consequence of the overweening admiration of the ancients entertained by the revivalists-that we are to ascribe all the inconsistencies SKETCHES OF THE HISTORY OF EDUCATION. which have infected education down to the present day, ERASMUS LUTHER-TROTZENDORF. To give anything like a complete history of education, such as should be in anyway suitable to the importance of the subject, and the interest now attracted to it, would require a voluminous work. At present, nothing more is proposed than a brief outline of the progress of the science, and some account of the views of the more remarkable men who have thought and written on the subject. The history of intellectual education in Europe may be said to commence with what is generally termed the revival of letters in the fourteenth century. Up to this time the nations of Europe were engrossed in warlike affairs. Few amongst the laity, and those only the most favoured by nature or position, attained even the rudiments of reading and writing, and the clergy were only less ignorant than the laity. Of vernacular literature, properly so called, with the exception of ballads and romances, there was none; and the huge tomes, written in the barbarous Latin of the period, which occasionally made their appearance, were occupied with the abstruse absurdities of the scholastic theology. The physical sciences, with the exception of such amount of empirical chemistry as was hoarded up in secret by the alchemists and magicians,' were unknown, and natural history and geography were a mass of fables. Many of the principal authors of Rome, we may almost say all those of Greece, were unknown even by name; and in fact the language of the latter had disappeared from western Europe. When, however, something like order had succeeded the anarchy of the middle ages, when cities arose and peace was occasionally enjoyed, men quickly turned their minds to intellectual pursuits. The revival of letters began in Italy, in the golden days of the republics. The cities of northern Italy were at that time both richer and more civilised than any other portion of Europe; intellectual pursuits were more con rendering it a teaching of vocabularies instead of a training of the mind. It was not perhaps wonderful, especially of the Italians, that an undue admiration should have been aroused by those beauties of style and manner in which the classical authors so immensely surpassed the crabbed theologians of the middle ages. Carried away by this appreciation of mere external excellence, they exceeded the absurdities of later times, and not only imagined that the study of the classics comprised everything necessary for education, but actually thought that the attainment of a Latin style was all that was to be looked to. Selecting one or two favourite authors, Cicero in particular, they directed all their efforts to a slavish imitation of him; and the sole object of education, both in theory and practice, was held to be, not even the learning of Latin as the most valuable branch of knowledge, but absolutely the writing and speaking of Latin in the style of Cicero using no words, no forms of speech, except those found in his works. The lengths to which this childish idea was carried are almost incredible; and the least evil attendant on it was, that it not only led to the neglect of all which was really valuable in the uncouth learning of the middle ages, but that the classics themselves, for which everything else was abandoned, were not studied to the best purpose. The theory of Ciceronianism, as this perversion of classicism was called, reigned omnipotent for nearly two centuries; but it was too absurd to endure for ever; and as the learning of the Italians extended into other lands, | the pupils began to laugh at the folly of their masters. It was in Germany that the first resistance was made to this education in shadows. It was maintained that the perfect imitation of the style of any author, how excellent soever, was not the only thing to be sought || for in education; and that classical studies would be of little value until they were entered on in a very different spirit. The celebrated Erasmus was the bitterest |