of Life and Character" contain abundant proof of this, and diminish the pity we have always felt for the police magistrates in having to deal only with the bickerings and petty animosities of daily life. The many humorous cases in Mr. Hodder's book must have afforded them hearty amusement. The "Spotted Dog" especially, in which an instance of theft was discovered by the sagacious evidence of a poodle, must have surprised the sulky walls of Bow Street with many a loud peal of official laughter; and though it must be a novel thing to see a magistrate weeping, we should imagine the case, headed "Adversity," if it occurred as pathetically as it is described, must have thrown the whole iron bench into tears. In fact, Mr. Hodder's little book abounds with so many incidents, now humorous, now pathetic, that it must be of sterling assistance to future novelists; whilst the many eccentric characters who figure as the heroes of nocturnal assaults, will indisputably be seized upon and thrown into Adelphi farces by our felonious playwrights. That they will confess the source of their felony is not to be expected; nor will Mr. Hodder require this fictitious aid to extend the circulation of his amusing book. It is richly illustrated by Leech, in his very best style, and has so many recommendations of its own, that it cannot fail to command the success it eminently deserves. The description of several of the characters, we can fearlessly assert, is equal to the best magazine-writing of the present day,

The Cock and Anchor. A Chronicle of Old Dublin City. In 3 vols.

THIS is an odd title, and does not indicate with sufficient clearness the nature of the book. The scene, as will be inferred from the title-page, lies in Dublin, and the time is the close of the seventeenth century. The purpose of the author is a moral one. It is to show how gradual, and yet how certain, the progress of crime often is. The hero, in whose person the proposition is wrought out, is a Henry Ashwoode, a young baronet of considerable wealth, of haughty mind, and passionate temper. He plunges deep into the mine of fashionable dissipation, and indulges in all the aristocratic follies and vices of the day. Among other vices to which he is addicted is that of gambling. The result will be anticipated; he entails on himself utter and irretrievable ruin, and dies in great misery.

The story is episodically enlivened by the introduction of Dean Swift, Addison, and other distinguished literary men of the close of the seventeenth and commencement of the eighteenth century. The book is written with considerable ability, and knowing, as we happen to do, that it is the maiden production of a comparatively young man, it must be considered a highly creditable production.

Description and Uses of the Improved Moveable Planisphere, exemplified in a Series of Problems, showing its utility as a cheap and portable Substitute for the Celestial Globe. By JEHOSHAPHAT ASPIN.

THIS is a singularly ingenious contrivance, and must prove exceedingly useful to those who are anxious to acquire a knowledge of what has been not inaptly called" celestial geography." In order that our readers may be able to form some idea of the meritorious contrivance, we shall give Mr. Aspin's account of the objects and uses of the Improved Moveable Planisphere. On this head Mr. Aspin makes the following observations :

The Improved Moveable Planisphere, though simple in its construction, affords the means of solving most of the problems usually worked upon the celestial globe, with considerably less labour and more perspicuity in regard to the divisions of hours than can be effected by the ordinary twelve-inch globe: and, to say nothing of its comparatively low price, its portableness will procure it a decided preference in situations where the globe might prove an incumbrance.

The Improved Planisphere, consisting of only two cards, affords by a single movement of one of them, the times of the star's rising throughout the year; by a second motion, its times of culmination; and by a third, its times of setting for the like period. By means of a moveable index, corresponding to the brass quadrant of the artificial globe, most questions relative to the apparent movements of the sun, moon, planets, and fixed stars, or their positions at particular moments, may be correctly answered. This index forms an entirely new feature in the construction of planispheres, and renders the Improved Moveable Planisphere peculiarly useful and amusing to young persons who may not have the advantage of an astronomical preceptor. A very few exercises upon it will lead to a knowledge of the places of the constellations, and the names of the principal stars when viewed in the heavens; with their periodical seasons of rising, culminating, and setting; in addition to numerous useful deductions, to which the study will naturally lead.

For the use of schools this Planisphere possesses the decided advantage that each pupil may have one, either for the purpose of following the verbal instructions of the teacher in the hour of study, or for selfimprovement in leisure moments; a benefit not to be derived from a globe, which pertains to the whole school.

We would willingly quote Mr. Aspin's description of his ingenious and useful invention, but have not the requisite space. It cannot fail to find its way into general use when its merits become known.

AN ESSAY ON NATURAL RESPONSIBILITY.

WITH A SECOND PART ON THE NATURAL ORIGIN OF CONVENTIONAL LAWS AND DISTINCTIONS.

BY MRS. LOUDON.

ADDRESSED TO THE LABOURING CLASSES.

CHAPTER I

MAN possesses certain moral and intellectual faculties, human instincts, and human sympathies, which are as much parts of his own natural mind as his limbs are parts of his own natural body. These constitute him a responsible being, responsible for the use he shall make of such powers.

Nothing less than the withdrawal of these powers by insanity or idiotism can release him from this responsibility.

Were I addressing only those who had been instructed in scriptural revelation, however unlearned they might be, I should have no need to tell them that they were responsible beings. I should only have to point to them the agreement between their natural responsibility and the commandments and precepts of the Scriptures. But as this essay has a further object, namely, to neutralize the poisonous doctrine of non-responsibility, which has been poured out among the labouring classes by persons calling and perhaps thinking themselves their friends, I take a line of argument calculated to show that natural responsibility exists, though in a more limited degree, even in the case of those who not only are unlearned, but who never have been instructed, from without, in religious or moral obligation of any kind. And further, that those who have been robbed by evil communication of any sense of religious obligation they may ever have possessed, are not, therefore, released from their natural responsibility. To such persons, I hope to make it self-evident, that the very possession of their natural powers of mind and human instincts as human beings, lay upon them a certain share of moral, social, and religious obligation, from which they cannot escape, unless they can plead the loss of those powers by insanity or idiotism.

All those who have received some cultivation of their natural powers, or been given some instruction in religious obligation, will, of course, feel, without my breaking the chain of these July, 1845.-VOL. XLIII.-NO. CLXXI.

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arguments to press the conclusion, that their responsibility is increased in exact proportion to every such assistance they may have received from without.

No one can more fully value every such assistance than does the friend who now addresses you, especially when such assistance be given in the form of early, moral, and religious training; nor can any one more ardently desire that this blessing should be extended to the children of every one of you. The sincerity of these assurances will not be doubted by any one who reads the former essays of this series—one addressed to parents and one to her Majesty's Ministers.

But no sense, however deep, of the immense importance of early moral training can blind any persons who look within their own minds, and reflects on its powers, to the utter falseness of the dangerous and degrading doctrine which attempts to teach, that any want of aid from without can release a human being from the responsibility laid upon him by the possession of his own human

nature.

We all by the force of a natural instinct desire to respect ourselves; no man, therefore, will be anxious to deny that he possesses these natural powers of mind which distinguish him from the brutes, and give him a higher rank in creation. But, that this conviction may not merely gratify his pride, but be strong enough to influence his conduct, it is desirable that every man should commence the study of this subject, by practically convincing himself that he does possess these faculties. This he can do by appealing to his own consciousness; that is, by turning his attention inward, and assuring himself that he feels the impulses moving within him. By this process every one who is neither a madman nor an idiot will find, that he possesses all the faculties about to be enumerated in a greater or less degree, but always sufficiently to constitute him a responsible being.

Commence then your self-examination thus. Recall your own experience! Is there any one of you who has never willingly, by a natural impulse, done a kindly action or said a kindly word, and experienced, on having done so, a feeling of satisfaction which disposed him to do the like kindnesses again?

I will reply for you. There is not one among you, I will venture to say, who has not more or less frequently felt and acted upon this kindly impulse, and experienced satisfaction in so doing.

This impulse, then, proceeded from the natural untaught faculty of benevolence; and the feeling of satisfaction which you experienced when you obeyed this impulse of benevolence was not an accident-it was so ordained by the Great Mind which formed your mind. This is quite certain, for you know that the feeling did not come to you from without. It was God, then, who through the voice of your natural conscience was rewarding you

for having done a kindly action or spoken a kindly word, and thus encouraging you to do the like again.

You may think that speaking a kind word is not worth all this, but you are mistaken; the kind word sends a soothing, pleasing feeling into the heart of a fellow-creature; it is therefore worth a reward from God, because it is doing his will-it is co-operating with him in making his creatures happy.

And this reward being thus conveyed to you through the inward voice of your natural conscience, proves to you beyond a doubt that you have a conscience—that is, a natural instinct which craves for your own approbation.

This instinct may be more or less enlightened, either by the other powers of your own mind or from without; but it has always by nature voice enough to prove the reality of its existence. Look within your own minds again! Not one of you can say that you do not feel more or less satisfaction, more or less pleased and contented with yourselves, when you have done any action which you believe to be good-natured, or just, or right in any way; and, on the other hand, that you do not feel, in despite of every effort to drive away the thought, more or less uncomfortable, out of humour with yourselves, dissatisfied, and degraded, when you think you have done an unjust, a cruel, or a mean action.

This proceeds from the natural instinct above named, which makes your own respect and approbation absolutely necessary to your comfort; whether or not you know how to deserve it, and whether or not you have been taught to know that this instinct represents the voice of God.

Thus, in the most ignorant of breasts there is still an altar to its unknown God; for, the natural longing of the human heart to be able to feel self-respect and self-approval is not merely a desire, it is the soul's instinct of self-preservation-it is an imperative want, which the soul can no more be contented without supplying, than the body can rest satisfied without the food necessary to life. Now, when you look within among your own thoughts and reflect, you can feel that this instinct is as much a part of your own natural minds as your limbs are parts of your own natural bodies.

Here is manifest design on the part of the Great Mind of the universe. Here is an everlasting motive placed within your own breasts, calculated to incline you eternally towards virtue and happiness; for here is the hand of God as visible as the sun in the firmament, drawing you towards virtue by the instinctive pleasure you feel when you think you have done right, and deterring you from wickedness by the instinctive pain you feel when you think you have done wrong. And though conscience, when not assisted by the other powers of the mind, sometimes makes

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