purpose of introducing two or three characters, who converse together, and explain Miss Martineau's opinions.

The method of instructing by conversation has this advantage over the regular didactic mode, that it enables the writer in a lively manner to state the several objections to his doctrines as they might naturally arise in the minds of different individuals. The several characters who sustain the conversation give the author a convenient opportunity of displaying all the sides of a question. But Miss Martineau does not avail herself of this advantage: she prefers the privilege of sup pressing her opponent's arguments. Thus in "Brooke and Brookefarm," Miss Martineau enlarges on the advantages of large farms, and enclosing commons; she mentions all the outcries and vulgar prejudices that are raised against such measures, but does not even allude to the arguments and facts brought forward by the ablest men in their favour. Her speakers agree so well, that the speech of one might as well come from another. She frequently neglects even the style of conversation, and merely splits an essay into a number of speeches, by inserting proper names at suitable intervals. Thus, in the same tale, she introduces whole pages from Young's Tour in France in favour of large farms, without making the slightest change, except prefixing the names of different speakers to different parts of it. We cannot comprehend how a dialogue constructed in this manner can be more intelligible or attractive to the reader than the original essay which is thus dressed up. The author, however, saves much time and labour by this plan, as nothing more is necessary than to give the printer an essay or speech upon any subject, and direct him to reprint it in the form of a dialogue, by introducing occasionally at the beginning of sentences such phrases as, "Yes, said Tommy, and, &c." or, "Besides, said Harry, &c."

The person who engages in the impracticable task of teaching a science by means of amusing tales will scarcely avoid falling into these two deviations from his original plan: first, he will

neglect the connexion between the tale and the doctrines to be taught and convey instruction merely by dialogue; next, as he advances, he will depart from the style proper to dialogue, and will put essays or declamations into the mouths of his speakers, as in Miss Martineau's latter tales, in which each speaker always delivers a speech of one or two pages in length. This is returning to the natural didactie method, to which no objection can be offered; we only think that it ought to be adopted openly, and not called a tale.

For the present we take leave of Miss Martineau in her character of political economist, and we trust that she will not be tempted to write any more upon that subject. Our remarks upon her doctrines have not been dictated by any hostile feeling, and we shall be unfeignedly glad to hear of her entering a path in literature, in which she may confidently anticipate success. We expect, at some period not very remote from the present, to derive much pleasure from the perusal of a novel by Miss Martineau." One warn ing only we feel it right to give her upon this point, and we hope it will be taken in good part, and not be unheeded. The public taste of the present day will not bear the indelicacies which too frequently pollute her pages. In some of her illustrations she has accomplished a task which in our opinion a female ought not to have undertaken. She has not shrunk from the most disgusting parts of the investigation of the effects of the English system of poor laws. On the contrary, she has dwelt upon them too long, and recurred to them too frequently. This, however, as it is done with some useful object, is not so reprehensible as those instances in which she makes indelicate allusions for the mere purpose of making her dramatis personæ speak in character. It is surely possible to depict the greatest ruffians with sufficient vividness and accuracy without repeating any thing which can shock the reader's delicacy. We shall not dwell upon this subject, trusting that what we have said will suffice to prevent a repetition of the offence.

are associated with the name! Through filth and wretchedness and ruins we reached its base, and by a lofty flight of marble stairs mounted to the church of Aro Cælia, situated on the eastern summit of the hill, where the temple of Jupiter once stood.

Here an infinity of objects command the traveller's notice. Paintings, sculpture, and numerous remnants of antiquity are abundantly collected in the museums adjoining the Senator's house. On none of these, however, did Mr. M Dermott vouchsafe his observation: all his attention was bestowed upon the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, which occupies the centre of the piazza. The guide was extravagant in his admiration while my companion declared that the emperor was seated on a brood mare! A fiery altercation ensued, and often was my judgment appealed to. The cicerone eulogised the head and neck, and the Hibernian denounced the belly. With out being skilful in horseflesh, I must admit that justice lay with Mr. M'Dermott, for the abdominal proportions of the steed are preposterous. The figure of the emperor, however, is nobly designed, and redeems the partial deformity of his charger.

Our last visit was to the Pantheon; by far the best preserved temple of ancient Rome. The inscriptions in front of the building intimate its having been erected by M. Agrippa twentysix years before the Christian era. The Pantheon is celebrated for the beauty of its proportions. It is ornamented with sixteen columns formed from single blocks of oriental granite, each fourteen feet in circumference, and nearly forty in height. are no windows in the building, light being admitted through a circular opening in the roof. This matchless temple is now used as a church, and dedicated to the Virgin and holy martyrs. Around the walls are many busts of striking beauty, displaying a curious variety of likenesses; for sculptors and monks, painters and cardinals are all intermingled there.

There

We happened to be present while mass was being celebrated. The priest was excessively ill-looking, and his audience consisted of a dozen of the shabbiest paupers that Rome itself could produce. How we drew down

upon us the ire of his reverence, I could never discover; but attracted by his noise and gesticulation, we soon discovered that his discourse was directed to ourselves; and, to judge from the manner of the orator, his remarks were any thing but complimen. į tary. The ruffian auditory began to grin at us, and the guide hinted that it would be prudent to beat a retreat. But Mac was obstinate in remaining, and swore sturdily that he would not quit the Pantheon for the Pope! The storm momently lowered; the priest anathematized awfully; and my companion responded in an unknown tongue. The mutterings of the banditti that surrounded the preacher alarmed me, and I joined our cicerone in urging my companion to retire. He did so reluctantly. "What the devil were you afraid of?" was his first remark, when we were safe outside the walls. "Do you think I cared for his curses, if he bellowed till he was black in the face? Was not called out in the chapel at home? my name indeed was not mentioned; but Father Murphy described me to a hair. Ah, if you only understood Irish; for one blessing we got, the old mountebank had three!" Indeed I believe it was the case; for during the maledictory struggle, Mr. Mac Dermott's volubility was astonishing.

As a set-off against the anathemas of the monk of the Pantheon, we have received the benediction of the Sovereign Pontiff, and returned to our hotel, delighted with the urbanity and gentleness of a most interesting old man. Having reached the palace, we found that our arrival was most opportune, for the pope was descending the stairs, to enter his carriage, which was waiting at the door; and we were just in time to gain the end of the hall before he made his appearance. A servant politely directed us to kneel, and pointed out the best and most convenient situation to observe the person of his holiness, and obtain his blessing. A buzz announced the pope's entrance; down we popped upon our knees, as a little figure, "clothed in purple and fine linen," advanced with great dignity.

Pius the VII appeared to have passed his eightieth year, but was still a

in a cream-coloured gown, lined with crimson, and bound round his middle by a sash. His hat was crimson silk, its broad brim looped up at the sides. Scarlet breeches and stockings, with shoes of the same colour, and trimmed with gold fringe, completed his cos

tume.

Perceiving that we were English, he advanced towards us, while we bowed our heads, and received his benediction. The ceremony was scarcely over, when our risibility was excited by a great overfed, thick-winded devotee, waddling after his holiness upon his hands and knees, and kissing his toe devoutly. This piety was of course requited with a benison, and he was made happy. Accompanied by a number of gentlemen, the pope proceeded to his carriage; we joined the train; and as he drove off, he returned our salutation with marked urbanity.

Even this quiet scene could not pass over without my mercurial companion involving us in a scrape. As we were leaving the palace, a genteel looking attendant came forward and intimated that he was a domestic of the pontiff. The best and most appropriate reply was to hand him a few pauls; a second, with a graceful bow, assured us that he was also of the household; another subsidy was presented; a third and a fourth succeeded; but when the fifth laid claim to our consideration, Mr. Mac Dermott's irascible temperature was directly in a blaze, and pushing the applicant aside, he consigned the whole establishment, in one fell swoop, to pandemonium! Fortunately his English was as unintelligible to the footman, as his Irish had been to the monk; and I ended the argument by removing my refractory companion.

A visit to St. John Latern concluded our perambulations over "the eternal city." This church was erected by Constantine, and as an object of interest to the traveller, is considered only second to St. Peter's. It stands near the Porta Giovanni, and many have been the casualities it has undergone; overthrown by an earthquake-rebuilt-burnt down-reconstructed and enlarged. In it the Corsino chapel is erected, where, in

the ashes of Clement XII. are deposited. The curious in relics would be highly gratified at the interesting collection exhibited to the faithful on Holy Thursday. A more miscellaneous assortment never delighted a devotee. Here are the heads of St. Peter and St. Paul; a lock of the Virgin's hair; part of her petticoat; a robe of Christ; some of his blood in a bottle; the table on which the last supper was laid out; splinters of the ark of the covenant; the rods of Moses and Aaron; and the identical pillar on which the cock perched who crowed when Peter denied his Master!! But these are of small account compared with the holy staircase opposite the church, by which our Saviour descended from the judgment-seat of Pilate. None are permitted to ascend except upon their knees, and to descend is totally prohibited. If the task of mounting be troublesome, verily the reward is great; for an indulgence of three thousand years is granted to the operator. At the top of the staircase is the "Holy of Holies"--and a most uninviting place it looks. I recommended Mr. Mac Dermott to liberate himself from the load of his sins, as he never could effect it on easier conditions; but with heretical obstinacy he rejected my advice, and chose the other staircase.

*

My tutelage is ended-"thanks to the gods!"- Mr. Mac Dermott no longer honors Rome with his presence and a new era has opened in his history.

Breakfast was over, and I had unclosed an English newspaper when a visitor was announced and admitted. The first look assured me that it was our quandom fellow - traveller, Mr. Selwyn. On being seated, I remarked that he was greatly agitated, while my excellent companion was not exactly on a bed of roses. After a few commonplace observations, and a long pause, the old gentleman turned to my worthy disciple.

"I am come, Mr. Mac Dermott, on any thing but an agreeable errand; yet parental duty renders this visit indispensible. My daughter has placed this letter in my hand; and it is only necessary for me to add, that, from a

So the murder was out, and Mr. Mac involved in another escapade.

"I will not question your intentions, sir," the old man continued; "I will judge them charitably—and only inquire, was it wise or honorable to win the affections of an artless girl, whom, from your own admission, you never could have made a wife? Were it not impertinent, I would ask in what that difficulty consisted? Were it poverty, I had the means to remove it."

My pupil shook his head, and Mr. Selwyn proceeded.

"Your rank I know not, but presume that you are what the parlance of the world calls a gentleman. I, sir, am the child of honest parents, and have realized independence with an unblemished reputation. Of Marianne I speak not; no tongue could ever pronounce dishonor of her."

Poor Mac Dermott was deeply affected.

Stop! stop!" I exclaimed, as my eye fell upon a paragraph that astonished me. Again I read it silently. "It is true, by H—n !” I ejaculated. "True! What is true ?"

I handed Mr. Selwyn the newspaper, and he read the passage I pointed out.

"Died suddenly, at her residence in Great Russell-street, Sarab, relict of the late Arthur Mac Dermott, Esq., of Kiltycormack House, county of Ros

common."

WE take the first opportunity which the important political events more nearly concerning us admitted, to call the attention of our readers to the Belgic Revolution. It is like nothing else of which history has left us any record. It is not the resistance of a people to a long established government, which had grown, in process of time, tyrannical or corrupt, and to which

they might have been stimulated by considerations of early liberty or glory. It is not the revolt of a people from a foreign yoke by which they were grievously burdened, and their interests, commercial and manufacturing, cruelly sacrificed to those of their more favoured fellowsubjects. For hundreds of years the Belgic people were the vassals of Austria, of Spain, or of France; and their