in their examinations into the Penitentiary system of this country, have instanced Connecticut, where learning is widely diffused, and where, at the time of their visit, crime had increased. It is said, in the British Parliament, that in spite of all effort for the instruction of the people, crime has rapidly increased in New York. Such anomalies have been remarked in several European States. The American translator of the two authors named above, M. Lieber, has looked into the subject, and, after having shown how some circumstances may modify the habitual influence of education, he has concluded that instruction is not absolutely a good. "Arithmetic," says he, "may be as useful to a rogue as to an honest man toiling for his family; just as a knife may be used by an assassin, as well as by him who cuts a piece of bread." M. Lieber then adds several ingenious but truthful remarks on the indirect influence that education has, indiscriminately, on every child. He remarks that nothing can be more dangerous in society. than a man who cannot read; and I think him in the right. Indeed such a man is, in one sense, out of the world; one of the avenues of enjoyment is closed to him, he has one sense less; and hence that sense of degradation which sometimes leads to crime.

The Public Schools are established and maintained sometimes by funds furnished by each State, and sometimes by taxes assessed by the cities and towns themselves. The system more generally adopted is that of New York, which consists in a combination of both. The general principle is, that the town shall pay in proportion to what the State furnishes. The State of New York has reserved in perpetuity for Schools the income of all lands belonging to it, and a capital called the "School Fund." These schools differ from those of many other States, in the fact that there are no schools for poor children; since no distinction exists between the rich and the poor. The taxes levied on parents that are in good circumstances go to support the school, where all, both rich and poor, are taught alike.

There was in the city of New York a corporation of long existence, whose prerogative it was to organize and control the public schools. This Society, in which there were many Quakers, left all religious instruction to the family and Sunday schools-giving permission only to read the Bible without comment; but, as it was a Protestant version, the Catholics took umbrage at it, and demanded

This was not done, however, without a struggle. As every thing here takes a political aspect, some approved of it, as coinciding so well with republican principles, while others, very sensitive on the subject of the progress of democracy, opposed giving gratuitous instruction of a higher order, as having a tendency to create, in young men, a sort of aristocracy, which would be fostered by the Academy, to the detriment of the Primary Schools, which are so useful to all. It was decided by a popular vote, of about 20,000 majority, in favor of the Academy.

There is nothing like this in France. Any pupil from the Public Schools, of the age of twelve years, is admissible. The candidates are examined on the different branches, by the Professors, who are ignorant of their names, and who write when they are to be admitted, "GOOD," on a card presented to the examiner. One must receive "GOOD" from each Professor. Punishment is almost entirely abolished, moral means being principally used; if a boy falls into error, they admonish him; if he repeats his fault, they say to him coolly, "You are no longer worthy a place among the students "—and send him away.

Two characteristics in the instruction of the Free Academy seemed worthy of note. One is the perfection of book-keeping applied to the government of a school. In a large volume not unlike a merchant's account book, one can see at a moment what any scholar is doing, and in what class or section he may be found. The other is, that the election of the Trustees has a political character. When the government of the city is democratic, it is impossible for a whig to be elected; but after all, the ascendency of either party makes but little difference to the College. Professor Webster took me to a large hall where there are exercises in public speaking every month. The object of these exercises is to give to the pupils good habits of oratory, a part of education which is not neglected in a country where all may be called upon to deliberate on public affairs.

In the midst of the invectives which were poured forth on the head of the unfortunate baron, that worthy made his appearance. Immediately all was silent; and though he advanced to greet his friends with his customary easy assurance, he evidently saw that all was not right, as his most intimate associates of yesterday avoided speaking to him, or, at most, gave him the slightest possible. salutation.

Not being, however, very easily abashed, Baron M-proceeded, as usual, to make his bow to the hostess, who at once, as had been agreed, said to him: Monsieur le Baron, may I request the favor of a few words with you in private ?'

Certainly, madame,' replied the baron, offering his arm, which she declined to take, and forthwith led the way to an ante-cham

ber.

The countess, feeling naturally very nervous at the part she had to perform, at length said with some hesitation: I know not whether you are aware, Monsieur le Baron, of the serious accusation which hangs over you; and which, unless you can remove or explain satisfactorily, must forever close my doors against you.' The baron was all attention, as the countess continued: I have been informed, upon what appears to be undoubted authority, that you are in the pay of Monsieur Fouché-that you are, in short, a spy.' 'Oh,' replied the baron, is that all? I will not attempt to deny it; nothing can be more true; I am a spy.'

'And how,' exclaimed the lady, 'have you dared to insult me and my guests, by presuming to present yourself night after night at my house, in such an unworthy manner?' 'I repeat,' said the baron with all possible coolness, that I am in the pay of Fouché;

PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF LORD ABERDEEN. Ten years ago, when Lord Aberdeen was Secretary of Foreign Affairs, he was described as a man of middle height, rather clumsily made, with an address more of sober dignity than of pride or reserve. He had the name of being the proudest and coldest aristocrat in England, but these characteristics did not show themselves in dress. His coat was black, generally much worn, and always too large for him; a pair of coarse check trousers, very ill-made; a waistcoat buttoned up to the throat, and a cravat tied in a negligent manner. His manners are of absolute simplicity, amounting al

some subjects, I am tolerably well informed, of which, Madame la Comtesse, I will give you a proof. On the last pay-day, at Monsieur Fouché's, you received your pay, for the information you had brought him, immediately after I had received mine.'

What!' cried the countess; 'dare you insinuate anything so infamous?. I will have you turned out of the house instantly.'

Softly, madame,' answered the baron: that I am a spy, I have not attempted to deny; that you are likewise a spy, I have long known, and can readily prove. We are in the same boat-we sink or swim together; if you proceed to denounce me, I shall also denounce you; and there is an end of both of us. If you uphold me, I will uphold you, and we shall go on as before.'

Well,' said the lady, considerably embarrassed at finding that her secret was known, what is to be done? I am in a most difficult position.'

'Not at all, madame,' replied the baron. 'I will tell you what to do; take my arm, and we will return together to the drawing-room, where you will announce that my explanation has been satisfactory.'

The countess, seeing there was nothing else to be done, determined to make the best of it, and as she advanced into the room said, with one of her sweetest smiles: I am delighted to tell you, that Monsieur le Baron has been able to give me an explanation, which, though I cannot divulge it, is in all respects perfectly satisfactory to me, and therefore, I am sure, it will be so to you.' The guests were at once relieved from a weight of anxiety, the evening passed off with the utmost hilarity, and the baron regained the good opinions he had lost. It was not until long afterwards that the real facts of this singular history became known.

most to a want of style. He crosses his hands behind him, and balances on his heels. In conversation, his voice is low and cold, and he seldom smiles, yet there is a certain benignity in his countenance, and, according to English notions, an indefinable superiority and high breeding in his simple address, that would betray his rank after a few minutes' conversation. It is only in his manner toward the ladies that he would be immediately distinguished from men of lower rank in society. He is neither a drone nor a bustling man, but works steadily and quietly while those more ambitious of attention engage in fiery debates.

My landlady was a little, spare, neat, clean-, looking old woman, with a kind of superficial sharpness of eye that bespeaks a person whose mind has always moved within the same small circle. When, or at what age she began the business of letting furnished apartments, or whether she was born in it, and grew up of nature and necessity a landlady, I do not know; but there she was, as intimate with her house and everything that concerned it as a limpet is with its shell, and as ignorant, too, as that exclusive animal is of the outside world. Her connection with that world was of a peculiar kind. She never visited it but when driven by the force of circumstances, and then it was as a beleaguered garrison makes a sortie against the enemy. Her natural foes were the trades-people who dealt in anything she wanted, and the result of a conflict between them, if it involved but the fortunes of a half-penny, colored her whole day. It was not frequently, however, that she was driven to this aggressive warfare, for my landlady was a great dealer at the door, and lived in a state of perpetual hostility with the venders of sprats-O, and live soles.

Her house, or at least the parlor floor which I inhabited, bore a curious resemblance to herself, being a little, spare, neat, cleanlooking old floor. It consisted of a sittingroom and bed-room in excellent preservation. What the age of the furniture may have been, it was impossible even to guess; but for all practical purposes, it was as good as new.. There was no gloss on it-there never is in a lodging-house--but neither was there a single grain of dust. Though kept constantly clean, it had never been rubbed in its life; and that was the secret of its longevity. The carpet, though as whole as the rest, was not in other respects so fortunate. Its color was so completely faded, that you could not tell what it had originally been; the pattern might have been matter of endless controversy; and it exhibited a decided gang-way from the door to the fire-place. Its dimensions might be thought scanty, for

it did not cover the entire floor; but then, it must be considered, that this carpet was intended for the comfort of the lodgers' feet, not of those of the six cane-bottomed chairs ranged at wide intervals along the walls. On the mantel-piece there stood a lion of Derbyshire spar, and flanking him on each side a vase of stone-ware; the background being formed by a long narrow horizontal mirror, divided into three compartments, with a black frame.

These apartments, for which I paid twelve shillings a week, were not particularly cheerful. They had, indeed, rather a cold, solitary look; and sometimes in the morning at breakfast-time, I would fain even have prolonged the ministering of the dirty maid-ofall-work, by asking questions. But Molly had doubtless been ordered not to speak to the lodgers, and, therefore, she answered curtly; and, slamming down, or whisking off the things, went her way. I had at length recourse to my landlady herself, and found her so much more communicative, that I suddenly conceived the wild idea of being able to select from her reminiscences the materials for a story--with which I had already resolved to delight the public, if I could only think of a plot. She was not at all disinclined to speak. Indeed I believe she would have made no scruple of telling me the history of all her lodgers, from the epoch when things began to settle down after the Norman Conquest; for it was to some such period I referred in my own mind the first appearance in her window of "Lodgings to Let." But somehow her lodgers had no history to relate. Her favorite hero was a gentleman, who every now and then brought her in news from the world that parliament was going to impose a tax upon furnished lodgings. This was a very exciting subject. So far as it went, she was so unscrupulous a democrat, that I began to be fearful of political consequences if we were overheard; indeed she did not hesitate to set the whole boiling of them at defiance, saying, in answer to my caution, that if she was took up