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Exercise, however, must always be proportioned in extent to the constitution, and previous habits of the individual. Even a single day of excessive fatigue will sometimes suffice to interrupt growth, and produce permanent bad health; and an instance has occurred of a strong young man, who brought on a severe illness, and permanent debility, by sudden return to hard exercise for a single day, although some years before he had been accustomed to every species of muscular exertion, in running, leaping, and walking.

Riding is a most salubrious exercise, and where the lungs are weak, possesses a great advantage over walking, as it does not hurry the breathing. It calls into more equal play all the muscles of the body; and, at the same time, engages the mind in the management of the animal, and exhilarates by the free contact of the air, and more rapid changes of scene. Even at a walking pace, a gentle but universal and constant action of the muscles is required, to preserve the seat, and adapt the rider's position to the movements of the horse; and this kind of muscular action is extremely favourable to the proper and equal circulation of the blood through the extreme vessels, and to the prevention of its undue accumulation in the central organs. The gentleness of the action admits of its being kept up without accelerating respiration, and enables a delicate person to reap the combined advantages of the open air, and proper exercise, for a much longer period than would otherwise be possible.

Dancing is a cheerful and useful exercise, out has the disadvantage of being used within doors, in confined air, often in dusty rooms, and at unseasonable hours.

Gymnastic and callisthenic exercises are now rather sinking in public estimation, from overlooking the necessity of adapting the kind and extent of them to the individual constitution. It is certain, indeed, that many of the common gymnastic exercises are fit only for robust and healthy boys, and not at all for improving those who are delicately constituted, and who stand most in need of a well-planned training. Here, again, the general principle comes to our assistance; carefully to avoid great fatigue, and always to adapt the kind, degree, and duration, of every gymnastic exercise, so as to produce the desired results of increased nutrition and strength; and to remember that the point at which these results are to be obtained, is not the same in any two individuals, and can be discovered only by experience, and careful observation.

For giving strength to the chest, fencing is a good exercise for boys, but the above limit ought never to be exceeded, as it often is, by measuring the length of a lesson by the hour-hand of a clock, instead of its effects upon the constitution. Shuttlecock, as an exercise which calls into play the muscles of the chest, trunk, and arms, is also very beneficial, and would be still more so, were it transferred to the open air. After a little practice it can be played with the left as easily as with the right hand; and is, therefore, very useful in preventing curvature, and giving vigour to the spine in females. It is an excellent plan to play with a battledore in each hand, and to strike with them alternately. The play called the graces is also well adapted for expanding the chest, and giving strength to the muscles of the back, and has the advantage of being practicable in the open air. Dumb-bells are less in repute than they were some years ago; but when they are not too heavy, and the various movements gone through are not too eccentric or difficult, they are very useful. They do harm

occasionally, from their weight being disproportioned to the weak frames which use them; in which case they pull down the shoulders, by dint of mere dragging. When this or any other exercise is resorted to in the house, the windows ought to be thrown open, so as to make the nearest possible approach to the external air.

Reading aloud and recitation are more useful and invigorating muscular exercises than is generally imagined, at least when managed with due regard to the natural powers of the individual, so as to avoid effort and fatigue. Both require the varied activity of most of the muscles of the trunk to a degree of which few are conscious, till their attention is turned to it. In forming and undulating the voice, the muscles in constant action communicate to the frame a healthy and agreeable stimulus; and consequently, where the voice is raised, and elocution rapid, the muscular effort comes to be even more fatiguing than the mental, especially to those who are unaccustomed to it. When care is taken, however, not to carry reading aloud, or reciting, so far at one time as to excite the least sensation of soreness or fatigue in the chest, and it is duly repeated, it is extremely useful in developing and giving tone to the organs of respiration, and to the general system. To the invigo rating effects of this kind of exercise, the celebrated Cuvier was in the habit of ascribing his own exemption from consumption, to which, at the time he was appointed to a professorship, it was belived he would otherwise have fallen a sacrifice. The exercise of lecturing gradually strengthened his lungs, and improved his health so much, that he was never afterwards threatened with any serious pulmonary disease. But of course this happy result followed only because the exertion of lecturing was not too great for the then existing condition of his lungs. Had the delicacy of which he complained been further advanced, the fatigue of lecturing would only have accelerated his fate, and this must never be lost sight of in practically applying the rules of exercise.

It appears, then, that the most perfect of all exercises are those sports which combine free play of all the muscles of the body, mental excitement, and the unrestrained use of the voice, and to such sports, accordingly, are the young so instinctively addicted, that nothing but the strictest vigilance, and fear of punishment, can deter them from engaging in them the moment the restraint of school is at an end.

Many parents, absorbed in their own pursuits, forgetful of their own former experience, and ignorant that such are the benevolent dictates of Nature, abhor these wholesome outpourings of the juvenile voice, and lay restrictions upon their children, which, by preventing the full developement of the lungs and muscles, inflict permanent injury upon them in the very point where in this climate parents are most anxious to protect them.

But enough has been said to enable any rational parent or teacher to determine the fitness of the different kinds of muscular exercise, and to adapt the time, manner, and degree of each to every individual under his care.

[Abridged from COMBE's Physiology applied to Health, &c.]

THOUGH you may look to your understanding for amusement, it is to the affections that we must trust for happiness. These imply a spirit of self-sacrifice; and often, our virtues, like our children, are endeared to us by what we suffer for them. Remember, too, that conscience, even when it fails it is neither paradoxical, nor merely poetical to say, "That to govern our conduct, can disturb our peace of mind. Yes, seeking other's good, we find our own." -SHARPE

ADVANTAGES OF BIOGRAPHY. THE Christian community at large owes a great debt of gratitude to the recorded examples of its purest and holiest members. Individually exhibiting the beauty and excellence of the gospel principles by which they are governed, and collectively embodying a living and substantial representation of that fulness of stature to which a disciple of Christ may attain, they grow into an exhaustless treasury of motives and inducements to holy living, and of models of Christian deportment, which diffuses its richness over the church, and counteracts the persevering endeavours of the world to debase the standard of Christian faith and holiness.

To such sources, blessed by the fertilizing influences of that Holy Spirit which works in us to will and to do, many have owed their first religious impressions, many more have been advanced and strengthened in the way of peace; and while the church lasts, and the stores of Christian example increase, still more extensive and salutary effects may be expected to flow from the lives of the servants of God.

There each member of the church, alike the pastor and the flock, may contemplate a variety of bright and shining patterns of active piety, and devoted love of God; he may behold after what manner the worthiest of his kindred men have lived and breathed the gospel. He may calmly and profitably examine the trials and temptations they endured, the armour with which they were provided, the victories they gained, and their last great triumph as more than conquerors. He may learn a lesson scarcely less instructive from the records of their weaknesses, deficiencies, and falls, which, like buoys floating over perilous shoals in the ocean, give warning of the course in which danger is to be apprehended. And by the whole survey of their characters, he may be excited to renewed diligence and watchfulness, and stimulated to grow in the Christian gaces of faith, hope, and charity.

There the pastor may discern the solemn views of ministerial obligation, which have been entertained by holy men, bound by the same vows to watch for souls, and the conscientious manner in which they have executed the trust committed to them. He may be present at their studies and their prayers, may observe the workings of their plans of usefulness, may sympathize in their successes and disappointments, their trials and consolations. And thus the flame that glowed within them, may kindle a spark in his own heart, and impel him to greater labour and prayer, in feeding his Master's flock, in hedging them about against the assaults of evil, and in preparing to deliver up the sheep intrusted to his as his joy and crown of rejoicing, in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming.

care,

And there the Christian bishop may trace the footsteps of those who, from the primitive times downwards, have most magnified their apostolic office by their manner of discharging its duties; who have given special attendance to reading, to exhortation, to doctrine; who have been examples of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity; who have taken care of the church of God, as stewards for him; labouring to render their function instrumental in the highest degree, to the spiritual efficiency of the church, of which they are the responsible overseers.

[From HONE's Lives of Eminent Christians.]

WHAT is the best security for the happiness of life, and the most to be depended upon for making us contented with ourselves, and respectable to others?-Equanimity. What are the best means of attaining this?-Piety and resignation.-DANBY.

WILD BEAST FIGHTS.

THE following is a striking, but melancholy picture of cruelty
towards the brute creation, mingling itself in what are called
national sports. In perusing accounts such as these, we cannot
but reflect with satisfaction, that, in this country, all public
exhibitions in which the inferior animals are made to bleed for the
mere amusement of man, may be said to be entirely abandoned,
as unmanly and unbecoming a Christian people.
BEING on a visit to the Coorg Rajah, the author was invited
to witness some of the contests with ferocious animals,
which form a part of the amusements of that prince. The
Rajah, it appears, prided himself on the possession of
savage creatures, having sundry lions and tigers, in cages,
some of which were under such control, that it was said,
he was in the habit of introducing them into his palace
before his guests, without even the restraint of a keeper.
On the day appointed the party repaired to the palace of
the Rajah, and after a liberal repast, proceeded to a gallery
that overlooked an area fall a hundred yards square, and
as soon as the prince arrived the sports commenced.
The first contest was between a boar and three goats in
succession. The next was of a far more awful character.
A man entered the arena, armed only with a Coorg knife,
and clothed in short trousers, which barely covered his
hips, and extended halfway down the thighs. The instru-
ment, which he wielded in his right hand, was a heavy
blade, something like the coulter of a plough, about two
feet long, and full three inches wide, gradually diminishing
towards the handle, with which it formed a right angle.
This knife is used with great dexterity by the Coorgs,
being swung round in the hand before the blow is inflicted,
and then brought into contact with the object intended to
be struck, with a force and effect truly astounding.
The champion who now presented himself before the
Rajah was about to be opposed to a tiger, which he volun-
teered to encounter almost naked, and armed only with the
weapon I have described. He was rather tall, with a
slight figure; but his chest was deep, his arms long and
muscular. His legs were thin; yet the action of the
muscles was perceptible with every movement, whilst the
freedom of his gait, and the few contortions he performed
preparatory to the hazardous enterprise in which he was
about to engage, showed that he possessed uncommon
activity, combined with no ordinary degree of strength.
The expression of his countenance was absolutely sublime
when he gave the signal for the tiger to be let loose: it was
the very concentration of moral energy-the index of a
high and settled resolution. His body glistened with the
oil which had been rubbed over it in order to promote the
elasticity of his limbs. He raised his arm for several mo-
ments above his head when he made the motion to admit
his enemy into the area The bars of a large cage were
instantly lifted from above; a huge royal tiger sprang for-
ward and stood before the Coorg, waving his tail slowly
backward and forward, erecting the hair upon it, and utter-
ing a suppressed howl. The animal first looked at the
man, then at the gallery where the Rajah and his court
were seated to see the sports, but did not appear at all easy
in its present state of freedom:-it was evidently con-
founded at the novelty of its position. After a short sur-
vey, it turned suddenly round, and bounded into its cage,
from which the keepers, who stood above, beyond the reach
of mischief, tried to force it, but in vain. The bars were
then dropped, and several crackers fastened to its tail,
which projected through one of the intervals.

A lighted match was put into the hands of the Coorg; the bars were again raised, and the crackers ignited. The tiger now darted into the arena with a terrific yell; and while the crackers were exploding, it leaped, turned, and writhed, as if in a state of frantic excitement. It at length crouched in a corner, gnarling as a cat does when-alarmed. Meanwhile its retreat had been cut off by securing the cage. During the explosion of the crackers, the Coorg stood watching his enemy, and at length advanced towards it with a slow but firm step. The tiger roused itself and retreated, the fur on its back being erect, and its tail apparently dilated to twice the usual size. It was not at all disposed to commence hostilities; but its resolute foe was not to be evaded. Fixing his eyes intently upon the deadly creature, he advanced with the same measured step, the tiger retreating as "before, but still presenting its front to its enemy. The Coorg now stopped suddenly; then moving slowly backward, the tiger raised itself to its full height, curved its back to the necessary segment for a spring, and lashed its tail, evidently

meditating mischief. The man continued to retire; and as soon as he was at so great a distance that the fixed expression of his eye was no longer distinguishable, the ferocious brute made a sudden bound forward, crouched, and sprang with a short, sharp growl. Its adversary, fully prepared for this, leaped actively on one side, and as the tiger reached the ground, swung round his heavy knife, and brought it with irresistible force upon the animal's hind-leg, just above the joint. The bone was instantly severed, and the tiger effectually prevented from making a second spring. The wounded beast roared; but turning suddenly on the Coorg, who had by this time retired several yards, advanced fiercely upon him, its wounded leg hanging loose in the skin, showing that it was broken. The tiger, now excited to a pitch of reckless rage, rushed forward upon its three legs towards its adversary, who stood with his heavy knife upraised, calmly awaiting the encounter. As soon as the savage creature was within his reach, he brought down the ponderous weapon upon its head with a force which nothing could resist, laid open the skull from ear to ear, and the vanquished foe fell dead at his feet. He then coolly wiped the knife on the animal's hide, made a dignified salaam to the Rajah, and retired amid the loud acclamations of the spectators.

His Highness informed us that this man had killed several tigers in a similar manner; and that, although upon one or two occasions he had been severely scratched, he had never been seriously wounded. The Coorgs, moreover, are known often to attack this terrible animal in the jungles with their heavy, sharp knives, and with almost unfailing success. Upon the present occasion, nothing could exceed the cool, cautious, and calculating precision with which the resolute Hindoo went through his dangerous performance. The sports of the first day concluded with wrestling, in which some extraordinary instances of strength and agility were displayed.

Next morning we again repaired to the palace at an early hour; the Rajah was ready to receive us, and after a slight refreshment, we took our station in the gallery to witness the second day's sports. We were prepared for an unusual sight. A lion was to be turned into the arena with an African buffalo, purchased by his Highness some months before, and which still remained uncommonly wild and

fierce.

We had not long taken our station in the gallery, before the buffalo was driven from its stall. The moment it entered

the enclosure it began to bellow and plunge violently, throw ing the dirt from its heels into the air at least a dozen feet high. It was a bony animal, as large as a Durham ox, though not, perhaps, quite so tall, its legs being short in proportion to its size. It had an immense head, with long horns, that curled like those of a ram, whilst its large projecting eye and dilated nostril gave it an expression of extreme fierceness. There was scarcely any hair upon its body, except on the neck and tail: at the extremity of the latter appeared a large tuft, very thick and coarse. It was altogether a very noble creature, full of strength and fury, Crook-knee'd and dewlapped, like Thessalian bulls.

After a few moments the bars of the lion's cage were raised, and the kingly animal bounded forward. It was one of the finest I had ever seen. A Hindoo sage has said that "the elephant, the lion, and the wise man, seek their safety in flight; but the crow, the deer, and the coward, die in their nest." In the present instance, however, the lion was fully vindicated from the obloquy of such vulgar wisdom, as will be presently seen.

It stalked majestically forward, but, seeing the buffalo, dropped upon its belly, swept the ground with its tail, and then uttering a short growl, made two or three leaps, and sprang upon its adversary's neck without further preliminaries. The sudden shock brought the buffalo upon its knees; but immediately recovering, the latter threw back its head with a violence that dislodged the lion, casting it with prodigious force against the strong wooden palings of the enclosure, at the same time striking one of its horns into the flank of its assailant and opening a hideous gash. its enemy had time to take advantage of its condition, it The lion was for a moment stunned; nevertheless, before was on its legs, and had again sprung upon the buffalo's neck, which it lacerated dreadfully. There was now a deadly struggle; but the latter, repeating the same action foe, threw the lion against the palings with still greater which had before disengaged it from the gripe of its tawny violence than before, and there gored it with an animation that soon entirely disabled the noble beast from renewing the contest. The buffalo was by this time so exhausted that it fell by the side of its prostrate enemy. After some exertion the keepers got it upon its legs and led it from the scene of combat. The lion was with difficulty dragged into its cage, but in a few days appeared little the worse. [From the ORIENTAL ANNUAL.]

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LONDON: Published by JOHN W. PARKER, WEST STRAND; and sold by all Booksellers.

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UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE COMMITTEE OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION, APPOINTED BY THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.

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ERASMUS.

ERASMUS may be considered to have been the most learned man of his time. This is saying much of one who lived in the reign of our Eighth Henry, and was intimate with Dean Colet*, Linacret, Grocynt, William Latimer, Lily, the Grammarian§, and Sir Thomas More; all Englishmen, and great men in their generation. In a letter from London, in 1497, to a friend in Italy, (for Erasmus lived much in England,) he says, "When Colet discourses, I seem to hear Plato himself; in Grocyn I admire an universal compass of learning; Linacre's acuteness, depth, and accuracy, are not to be exceeded; nor did nature ever form anything more elegant, exquisite, and better accomplished than More! It would be endless to enumerate all; but it is surprising to think how learning flourishes in this happy country."

Having introduced the subject of this memoir with well-deserved praise, and in excellent company; and having, moreover, endeavoured to gain the attention of our readers by quoting his high opinion of England, and its learned men, we must go back in order of time, to state that Gerard, afterwards called Desiderius Erasmus Roterodamus, was born at Rotterdam, October 28, 1467. His father was a physician named Gerard. This name, between which and Desiderius Erasmus there does not, at first sight, appear to be any affinity, the son dropped early in life. "But," says Dr. Jortin, "in his youth, he took the name of Erasmus, having before gone by that of Gerard, which in the German language means amiable. Following the fashion of learned men of those times, who affected to give their names a Latin or Greek turn, he called himself Desiderius, which in Latin, and Erasmus, which in Greek, has the same signification as Gerard." His third name he took in compliment to the city which produced him, and which continues to pay back the distinction, with interest, and constantly-reflected honour.

A notion prevails in Holland that Erasmus was reckoned dull as a child, though, on the other hand, it appears that his father, on discovering in him early marks of talent, resolved to give him the best education in his power. Both these accounts may be true. The wretched and heavy kind of school learning then in fashion was, probably, against the genius of a sharp and sensible boy; and, indeed, when he was afterwards sent, at nine years of age, to school at Deventer, at that time one of the best in the Netherlands for classical literature, he gained such a name, that one of the masters pronounced of him what afterwards came to pass, that " he would one day prove the envy and wonder of all Germany." While a boy at school he had the misfortune to lose his father and mother; she died of the plague at Deventer, whither she had come to see and take care of her son; and Gerard, her husband, did not long survive his bereavement. The plague drove Erasmus from school, when he was about fourteen ; upon which his guardians, who seem to have treated him extremely ill, in order to get what little fortune he owned into their hands, resolved to force him into a monastery. Thus he passed some unprofitable years, changing from one convent to another, eager to escape, utterly averse to the selfish and monotonous life of the monks, and gaining by experience that knowledge of monastic • The pious and munificent founder of St. Paul's School, of

which he made Lily the first master.

One of the most eminent physicians and scholars of his age; founder and first President of the College of Physicians.

A distinguished Greek and Latin scholar, and one of the revivers of literature in this country. Both Latimer and Lily greatly contributed, against vast opposition, to introduce the cultivation of Greek at Oxford. See Saturday Magazine, Vol. IV., p. 220. Melancthon, for instance; Saturday Magazine, Vol. VII., p. 92.

miseries and evils, of which he afterwards availed himself in his published works. Happily for him he found an opportunity, through the Archbishop of Cambray, who offered to serve him, of leaving the monastery at Stein, and studying, as well as taking pupils, at the University of Paris; but before his removal to Paris he had been ordained a priest by the Bishop of Utrecht. Among his pupils were some English noblemen, particularly William Blount, Lord Mountjoy, who was afterwards his great friend and patron, and at whose invitation he paid his first visit to England.

Previously to tais it appears, the constitution or Erasmus had suffered so much, partly from overexertion and partly from that accompanying fault, too common among studious men, self-neglect in point of health, that from being a person of strong frame he became weak and delicate. At Oxford he cultivated the friendship of the great men whose names are recorded in the beginning of this paper, most of whom were then the heroes of a literary warfare, and successfully engaged in introducing into the University that alarming novelty, the study of Greek! In the attractive pursuit of the dead languages he took an amazing interest, being determined to make them serve high purposes, namely, the interests of sacred knowledge; and, being then very poor, he declared that "as soon as he could get any money, he would first buy Greek books and then clothes." Passages like these in the life of a man whose fame, even at that time, rang throughout Europe, are a sad reflection, if not upon the times in which he flourished, at least on those distinguished and wealthy characters who affected to call themselves his patrons, and whose conduct, if it were general, would go far to justify Dr. Johnson's definition of the word, Patron.

Our scholar had by this time published his Adages, as well as some other learned and elegant works in Latin, the then general language of learned writers, and had risen to be a perfect, though self-taught, Grecian. There is an old saying, that a rolling stone gathers no moss; to the truth of which Erasmus seems to form an exception, for he carried his locomotiveness to a fault. We find him at Paris, Cambray, Orléans, Louvain, Turin, and Bologna, appearing to settle in each place, but changing again for fresh scenes and faces, yet gathering additional knowledge and heightened fame wherever he went. England, however, was the principal magnet; and no wonder when, as he tells Colet in 1506, "There was no country which had furnished him with so many learned and generous benefactors as even the single city of London." His high character of a ripe scholar and a good one, travelled before him when he visited Rome; and the leading divines of that city vied with each other in paying attentions to one so distinguished for genius, and for his exertions as a restorer of learning. It yet remained for him to establish his fame as a Reformer of Religion, or rather a Restorer of the ancient Faith.

On the death of Henry the Seventh, and the succession of his son Henry the Eighth, the friends of Erasmus entreated him to visit England once more, and enjoy the patronage of the young king, to whom he was well known. He accordingly quitted Rome; and having arrived in England, where he lodged with Sir Thomas More, he soon began to employ his wit against the Pope, and the court of Rome, by writing with wonderful rapidity a most ingenious work entitled Moric Encomium, or, The Praise of Folly; a composition, which with his inimitable Colloquies, entailed upon him the unfeigned hatred of the Romish church. At Cambridge, whither he was invited by Fisher,

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