The lady, whose name was Mrs. German, finally agreed to let James have that room at a reasonable rent, which James paid at once in advance.

He had brought nothing with him but the two or three things that were absolutely necessary. Begging that a good fire might be lit at once, he sent the servant, whose name— -Catharine (a Greek word, signifying "the clean one")-was singularly inappropriate, for some tea, and sat down to compose himself as best he might, trying as much as possible to fix his mind on his future duties, and to avoid the thought of her who was now lost to him for ever.

O Venus Libitina! well did they name thee goddess of the dead! He sat late into the night, thinking. From the room next him came the sound of merry voices laughing and talking; and the tones of Miss Helen German carolling, "Oh! am I not happy; I am, I am;" which she certainly appeared to be.

(To be continued.)

THE BLIND GIRL.

FROM CHAMISSO.

TIME was when mine eyes could fathom
The depths of the ocean of light,
And follow, with glance as fleetly,
The hurrying clouds in their flight.
Or, out on the plain would lure me
In chase of the thistle-down spray,
Till, lost in the boundless moorland,
I dallied the long summer's day.

That time is gone by for ever;

Oh! beautiful brightness, farewell!
The cruel, black night of Blindness
Has fettered me down in her cell.
Yet, grieve not for me, my sister,

That I to the sunlight am dead;

You know but the boon bereft me,

And not what I'm bless'd with instead.

C. P. M.

I've come from the dazzling Outward,

At home in my soul to abide;
This world of mine own, within me,

Is worth that's lost me beside!
The accents of Life around me

Descend to this innermost shrine,
While all my heart's changing emotions
Are known to no bosom but mine!

HOME, January 27, 1858.

THE STUDY OF THE CLASSICS.

THE utility of classical learning has been, of late years, so loudly denied, and the place it has occupied in the training of the young so often censured as a concession to bigotry and prejudice, unworthy of that enlightenment which is the boast (and not without' reason)" of our own day, that it may be well to offer a few remarks on the office which the Classics, as they are called, should fulfil in modern education,—their claims to our reverence and regard,—and the spirit in which they should be studied, to be studied with success. It is our wish to show that, whatever be the position they are in future to hold, and however subordinate, they exercise an influence, and do a work of their own, which we could ill spare, for which we could hardly find a fit substitute, and which, we do not think, even in an age pre-eminent for ingenious invention, will be soon superseded. We shall endeavour to argue the question according to the utilitarian temper of the times (on which God forbid we should cast any slur), but yet in the higher sense of usefulness, not with reference to merely immediate or tangible results, and certainly with no view to disparage other intellectual aims and occupations, which to many may be more interesting and important than the pursuits for which we plead.

We can well understand and even sympathize with the causes that have contributed to bring these once famous studies into comparative contempt or neglect. They have been in too many cases pursued unprofitably, because they have been pursued pedantically. Admirable as a foundation of the mental edifice, they have become objectionable when passing for foundation, superstructure, furniture, everything. That a period should have been put to this monopoly, was on all grounds desirable; and we venture to affirm that now, when the Classics are

being restricted from their usurped dominion to their proper province; when, after having been so long excesssively or exclusively valued, they are becoming intelligently and moderately appreciated (which we trust will be the effect of the present reaction), their real worth will be seen, as it never was seen before, in their genuine use, and the evils or errors of their universal monarchy (for the tyranny of ideas is as baleful as the despotism of dynasties) will be forgiven for the sake of their evident and confessed efficacy. Let us no more confound thought and the materials for thought, nor mistake the basis for the building.

Very few persons appear to have an adequate perception of the affectionate care that ought to be taken in dealing with the substance so delicate and precious as the human mind, or of the guilt and danger of playing with it, and experimenting upon it. We must make a religion of our education, or not educate at all-be conscientious and wholehearted in imparting instruction, or not impart it at all. For we are not plying an engine, or working a machine, or tuning an instrument of music, but are framing and fashioning an immortal being into fitness, or, alas! unfitness, for his duties in this world, and his destinies in the next also; a soul is in our hands, and we, whether consciously or unconsciously, may, by our inattention to, or ignorance of, our business, be quenching a spark of the uncreated fire. There is no task so arduous and so perilous; nor is any sin to be compared with his, who, in himself, or in others, smothers the ray of heavenly light beneath heaps of earthly rubbish; nor is any idolatry so hopelessly irrational as the worship of shadows and sounds.

Unchristian champions of the cause of progress should we be, did we fail to recognise and recollect these sacred realities. Too much indeed have they been forgotten by all who have been intrusted with elementary tuition, but not most, we believe, by classical teachers, however dry or unpractical the lessons of their antiquated lore. Remote though the subjects which engage their notice be from all recent experience or current association, still it will generally be found that the thirst for truth, the zeal in research, the friendliness to improvement, the manysidedness of mind, is more marked, after all, in the students of the literæ humaniores, as a class, than in the disciples of general knowledge, or the pupils of physical science, or the votaries of modern art, or any others, be they who they may, who have never been initiated into the mysteries, or imbued with the meanings, of those thinkers and writers of yore.

The remains of classical antiquity have at different eras undergone

the equally hazardous extremes of either fortune. But in one respect they have shared a hard as well as a chequered fate. They have suffered from the injudicious advocacy of those who have been entirely absorbed in their attractions, strangers to every other consideration than the maintenance of their favourite authors. No less have they been exposed to the intemperate opposition, or the insidious assault, of such as, totally averse to their pretensions, were intolerant of their perpetual interference in the field, as hindering rather than helping on the great battle of existence. Others, again, who have addressed themselves with considerable assiduity and skill to their perusal, and whose whole nature has been insensibly leavened by their operation, have either not been analytical enough to trace to their origin the benefits they have received, or not been honourable enough to confess the extent of their obligation, and cheerfully make the acknowledgment where acknowledgment was due. The proud end once attained, the humble means have, it is to be feared willingly, been lost sight of the unnecessary acquaintance dropped many an one is no sooner landed on the envied eminence, than the ladder up which he climbed is ignominiously dispensed with, or the guide of his steps summarily dismissed. Again, others, deficient neither in acuteness nor in gratitude, have been usually so engrossed with the functions for which their classical preparation was the apt preamble, that these, who would have been the ablest apologists, and best exemplifications of the argument, have been intent on deeper matter, and thus the recommendation of our theme has been resigned to those least likely to commend it with a good grace. The recorded opinions and known characters of men who, having relinquished with regret the study of the Classics as an employment, have reverted to it with fondness as a recreation, would constitute, so far as weight of authority goes, the choicest evidence in its favour. Incidental testimony of this kind has been amply given, and is abundantly extant, proving, if nothing else, this, at least, to be the conviction of the witnesses, the abiding impression on their understandings as the fruit of their labours, that the debt we owe the literary ancients, albeit often over-stated, and oftener misstated, is of a magnitude fairly immense. And if so, it is alike honest and politic to be ready to own it, because a debt of the intellect is a debt of honour or courtesy, with this peculiarity, too, that frankly to avow it is faithfully to discharge it.

Such a mode of treatment, however, would not satisfy the requirements of the topic, nor solve, perhaps, a single doubt. That reasoning must be very poor, or that proposition untenable, from which those

cannot reap some advantage who nevertheless do not acquiesce in its conclusions, nor rest in its literality. However ornamental the accomplishments of the Classics may be, this, we feel, will tell but little in the grand account, unless it is likewise certain that the acquisitions of the scholar are useful. Since, however glorious the treasury or the treasure, what, I ask, for me, beyond the paltry prize of an egregious eccentricity, or the short-lived conceit of a delightful dream, do all the buried stores of all former centuries amount to, if unavailable to-day? My only concern with the oracles of the past is, that I accept them as prophecies of the present, inasmuch as the present itself only belongs to me by virtue of its being the prophet of things to come. If those former tongues of flame-the Dead Languages-were now not simply dead, but dumb,—if not only was the statue of Isis veiled with hieroglyphic embroidery, but the divinity herself blind,-we would be foremost to mock the idle state in which they had lain so long, and to dethrone the false goddess of a hundred generations. Surely we, most bitterly disappointed and deceived, should be the first to exclaim, with the thoughtful poet, against the iniquity and vanity of

"The trade in classic niceties,

The fatal craft of culling terms and phrase
From languages that want the living voice
To carry meaning to the natural heart,
To teach us what is passion, what is truth;
What, reason; what, simplicity and sense!"

Now, we know that, in learning as in life, necessaries should be provided first; luxuries, if introduced at all, must come afterwards. We know, moreover,-know it well enough, though we do not always choose to remember it,-that education without method is a self-contradiction; for what is the object of all education but to inculcate a sound and sober method,-to systematize the processes and products of the thinking powers? It consists, then, not primarily in the communication of facts, but properly in the cultivation of the faculties; it consists, accordingly, of a certain mixture differing in its ingredients or in their proportions with the different elements it is applied to, of direct and indirect, both nourishment and discipline. For the knowledge we obtain, or at least that which we require, is not for food only, but food and medicine. A healing quality must be exerted; or we may be replenished only that the characteristic disease, or weakness of our organs, may be reproduced in some new shape. Education, consequently, is a life-long affair, not merely the avocation or amusement of youth, nor