and murders, for Religion among Christians. The discourse 'whereof hath so occupied the world, as it hath near driven the 'practice thereof out of the world. Who would not soon resolve, that took knowledge but of religious disputations among men, 'and not of their lives which dispute, that there were no other 'things in their desires than the purchase of Heaven; and that the world itself were but used as it ought, and as an inn or place wherein to repose ourselves in passing on towards our celestial 'habitation; when, on the contrary, besides the discourse and outward profession, the soul hath nothing but hypocrisy ? We are in effect become comedians in Religion; and while we act in gesture and voice divine virtues, in all the course of our lives we renounce our persons and the parts we play. For Charity, Justice, and Truth, have but their being in terms, like the philoso'pher's materia prima.'

6

Of the mournful mutabilities of our fleeting life, he discourses in this grandly melancholy strain: For seeing God, who is the author of all our tragedies, hath written out for us and appointed us all the parts we are to play; and hath not, in their distribu'tion, been partial to the most mighty princes of the world; that gave unto Darius the part of the greatest Emperor, and the part of the most miserable beggar (a beggar begging water of an enemy, to quench the great drought of death); that appointed 'Bajazet to play the Grand Seignior of the Turks in the morning, and in the same day the footstool of Tamerlane; that made 'Belisarius play the most victorious Captain, and lastly, the part of a blind beggar (of which examples many thousands may be pro'duced): why should other men, who are but as the least worms, ' complain of wrongs? Certainly there is no other account to be 'made of this ridiculous world, than to resolve, that the change of 'fortune on the great theatre is but as the change of garments on 'the less for when, on the one and the other, every man wears 'but his own skin, the players are all alike.'

:

And though the passage has by others been quoted for admiration, I will add the solemn address to Death. 6 It is Death alone

6

that can suddenly make man to know himself. He tells the 'proud and insolent, that they are but abjects, and humbles them at the instant; makes them cry; complain, and repent; yea, even to hate their forepast happiness. He takes the account of 'the rich and proves him a beggar; a naked beggar; which hath interest in nothing but in the gravel that fills his mouth. He holds

a glass before the eye of the most beautiful, and makes them see ⚫ therein their deformity and rottenness, and they acknowledge it. O eloquent, just, and mighty Death! Whom none could advise, ⚫ thou hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised! Thou hast drawn together all the far'stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty, and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, HIC JACET.' The loss of a History of England by such a writer as this, is a blank little likely to be filled. What I propose to contribute towards it, is a very humble but very earnest effort of plain-speaking. I believe many of the existing judgments of History to be unjust, and would give what indifferent help I can to their reversal. I do not hold with the lively Frenchman, that it is only possible to get at the truth by having no feelings of one's own; and that, to be a good historian, one should have no religion, no country, no profession, and no party. I have all these; and would not willingly part with any.

There is a maxim which just men believe, and which cannot be repeated too often. It is to the effect, that a knave will often succeed better, for a time, than an honest man: but that, in the long run, he fails. It seems to me that History should in a manner place itself before the constant regard of men, as the practical realization and embodiment of this long run. It should be the perpetual unmasking of so-called successful knavery. It should be the continual endeavour to re-establish unsuccessful honesty. Nor am I without the hope, that, to this great end, mere plain-speaking will contribute not a little.

And

It will be good service, at any rate, though it may be humble service; and I shall therefore commence, in the next number of this Magazine, and trust that I may be able to continue through its successive publications, a History for Young England of the reigns since the Conquest. It is my hope to comprise in each number, and within brief compass, the summary of a reign. now, for the present, I have but one concluding remark to make. If any one in the best spirit should feel, though in opposition to the spirit of this paper, that the time has not yet come for application of the lessons of history to existing interests, and that the people must have wider recognition before the attempt is for any practical purpose even thought of, I would ask of him to turn to a book by a living philosopher, which it will hereafter be one of

the distinctions of our time to have produced. I subjoin an extract from it, than which nothing purer in style, or nobler in thought, was ever written by philosopher or statesman, living or dead.

Sir John Herschel, in his Discourse of Natural Philosophy, after stating that History should be the archive of experiments, successful and unsuccessful, gradually accumulating towards the solution of the grand problem, how the advantages of government are to be secured with the least possible inconvenience to the governed, thus proceeds: 'The idea once conceived and verified, that great and noble ends are to be achieved, by which the condition of the ́ whole human species shall be permanently bettered, by bringing into exercise a sufficient quantity of sober thought, and by a proper adaptation of means, is of itself sufficient to set us earnestly on reflecting what ends are truly great and noble, ' either in themselves, or as conducive to others of a still loftier 'character; BECAUSE WE ARE NOT NOW, AS HERETOFORE, HOPELESS " OF ATTAINING THEM. It is not now equally harmless and insignificant, whether we are right or wrong; since we are no longer supinely and helplessly carried down the stream of events, but 'feel ourselves capable of buffeting at least with its waves, and 'perhaps of riding triumphantly over them: for why should we despair that the reason which has enabled us to subdue all nature to our purposes, should (if permitted and assisted by the provi'dence of God) achieve a far more difficult conquest; and ultimately find some means of enabling the collective wisdom of 'mankind to bear down those obstacles which individual short"sightedness, selfishness, and passion, oppose to all improvements, and by which the highest hopes are continually blighted, and the "fairest prospects marred.'

6

New Books.

THE CHIMES: a Goblin Story of some Bells that Rang an Old Year Out, and a New Year In. By CHARLES DICKENS.-Chapman and Hall.

We do not purpose to attempt any criticism of this book; nor, as the work is by this time in the hands of tens of thousands of readers, shall we indulge in any extracts. We notice the book for the sole gratification we find in thanking Mr. Dickens for this his last most powerful denunciation of the pharisees of society; for his stout-hearted championship of the weak against the arrogant prosperity of the wellto-do. The work is a most wholesome rebuke of the Sir Joseph Bowleys and the Aldermen Cutes who in many shapes abound, to the injury of the world, and the slander of their species. Mr. Dickens will, in some quarters, be soundly rated for this his last offering to the true dignity of humanity; and such abuse-no one knows it better than he—will be among his best rewards.

FLOWER, FRUIT AND THORN PIECES. BY JEAN PAUL FRIEDERICH RICHTER. Translated from the German by EDWARD HENRY NOEL.-William Smith.

THIS is a delightful book: a book of profound thought, of the subtlest humour; a book teaching noblest lessons to humanity in strains of wit and tenderness. Richter is in England-that is, among the reading masses-little more than a name. Nothing is known of his many masterly qualities; and we therefore most cordially welcome this translation, which bears internal evidences of Mr. Noel's enthusiasm for his subject. The work has evidently been to him a labour of love; and we confidently hope will be the means of directing popular attention to the writings of Richter.

In this history of " the married life, death, and wedding of the advocate of the poor, Firmian Stanislaus Siebenkäs," we have scenes of most delightful comedy and heart-touching pathos. Siebenkäs is a character that Sterne would have loved he has so much wisdom, so much quiet humour, such delicious, airy quaintnesses. His marriage with Lenette is painted with exquisite finish; and all the characters.

dwelling under the same roof with the poor advocate are life-like and distinct. Nothing can be more beautiful than the scene in which Siebenkäs rummages the cupboard, that he may turn his pewter disheinto bread by means of the pawnbroker; nothing more tenderly humors ous than the remonstrances of Lenette. The character of Siebenkäs is best given in Richter's words:" He disguised his beautiful heart beneath the grotesque comic mask, and concealed his height by the trodden-down sock; turning the short game of his life into a farce and comic epic poem. He was fond of grotesque actions, from higher motives than mere vanity. In the first place he delighted in a sense of freedom experienced by a soul unshackled by the trammels of circumstance; and secondly he enjoyed the satirical consciousness of caricaturing rather than imitating the follies of humanity. While acting, he had a twofold consciousness, that of the comic actor and of the spectator. A humourist in action is but a satirical improvvisatore. Every male reader," says Richter, "understands this; but no female reader." And this Siebenkäs, this humourist and philosopher is yoked to a mate of merest common-place; and from the unsuitableness of the union arise all the delightful perplexities of the book. The continual war between man and wife-he needing quiet to compose his "devil's papers," she bigoted to the broom and the scrubbing-brush—is carried on with inexhaustible humour. "She thought the obstinacy was all on his side, whereas, on the contrary, it was hers: since she would stamp upon the bellows and rattling stops, and play upon the organ, and make a noise behind the author's back, just in the morning hour, which for him had two kinds of gold in its mouth-that of the golden age, and metallic gold." And so the pair wrangle on, until indifference succeeds, and then aversion; and then Siebenkäs, counselled by his friend, his other self, acts the part of a dying man-to all appearance, dies—and, to all appearance, is buried; Lenette becoming the wife of the prosaic Schulrath. This mock death and funeral will, we conceive, be the least popular points of the book with the English reader; but the work contains so many sterling qualities-so abounds with various beauty—that we have every hope for it of large and permanent success.

We select the following extracts from the marriage-evening discourse which Adam made to Eve walking up and down outside the espalier of Paradise.

Pious hearer! such as thou now beholdest me in my sheep-skin, full of earnest and deep thought, I am nevertheless full, not so much of follies as of fools, between whom a wise man is occasionally inserted by way of a parenthesis. It is true, I am small of stature, and the ocean rose some way above my ankles, and wet my new wild-beast skin; but, by heaven! I walk up and down here, girded with a seed-bag, containing the seeds of all nations, and I carry the repertorium and treasury-chest of the whole human race, a little world, and an orbis pictus, before me, as pedlars carry their open warehouse on their stomach; for Bonnet, who lives within me, when he comes forth, will seat himself down at his writing-desk, and show that all things are