"It was a sight half comic, half melancholy, to see the poor little Greys in their nursery, thrust from one impatient hand to another, screaming under their hasty ablutions, and smarting from the violence of their tumultuous toilet-some of the most daring mopping and mowing at their persecutors, and then in a moment, at the sound of an imperious bell, stealing silently down the stairs, and along the hall, into their father's presence; where with sleek hair, and features as inexpressive as those on their china cups, they sat like moving but insensible figures, so constructed as to perform the functions of humanity, without its enjoyments or its pains.

"Stephen Grey, the father of this promising family, was a man who gravely and thoughtfully studied the laws of his country, its politics, and the religion of his forefathers; he had even obtained a smattering of philosophy under some of its most practical forms; but of the study of the human heart he had scarcely condescended so much as to think. He loved his children, because they were his own; he determined to make them good citizens, because it was decent and politic to be so; and good Christians, let us hope for a better reason. In business, his alacrity, promptness, and ability, were such as to render his influence extensive; while in his household, the will of the master was law. Whatever he chose to plan, or put in execution, passed without question or comment, unless behind the scenes; for like Falstaff he refused to tell his reasons on compulsion, and was equally impervious to every other mode of attack. If in this respect, however, he resembled the jolly knight, it must be acknowledged that the instance stood alone; for in mind, person, and general bearing, he might be concisely described as the direct opposite of that laughter-loving hero. His light blue eyes were seldom known to deviate from their impenetrable look of glassy coldness, and when they did, it was to be darkened by a frown, not animated by a gleam of light. Over his pale high forehead, divided across the middle by two rigid lines completely parallel, rested a few locks of thin fair hair, combed smoothly oftener than the day, and shorn of their exuberance whenever they were felt to wave in the wind, or resist the pressure of the composing hand.

"A smile has destroyed the harmony of many a face, but with Stephen Grey it was not so. On the very few occasions when this variation of his features appeared, his smile was noted as being so entirely free from all light, gross, and even sinister expression, as to correspond entirely with his upright, strong, unvarying character: just as a gleam of sunshine in passing over the rugged mountain, only serves to reveal more clearly its hardness, its sterility, and its strength.

"It need scarcely be added, that the words of Stephen Grey were few; for never did any human being successfully aspire to be dignified and important, without practising, as if by a kind of instinct, the art of speaking little, and of so modifying that little, that the variation of the simplest tone or gesture, shall mark it with more emphasis than the elaborate discourse of less weighty men. Indeed, there is some reason for suspecting, that in such tones and gestures consist the mystery of greatness; for, repeat what a man of this stamp has said, and it frequently amounts to nothing; but listen, and observe the imperative movement of the head, the lips compressed as if the bursting forth of an unguarded or extraneous word would produce convulsions in the mighty frame; and, deep into your stricken soul will sink the various intonations of the voice uttering sounds whose meaning beggars that of words, from the shrill rebuke, through all the gradations which denote contempt, down to the low deep growl of disapprobation.

"We often skrink away wounded and irritated from the presence of such a person, yet unable to say why; for if we would recall his words, merely as words, they tell for nothing; while as indications of the speaker's meaning, with all their inimitable accompaniments, they have told more, a thousand fold, then we wished either to know or feel.

"Of this class of lancinating speakers was Stephen Grey; and yet he spared his neighbour when absent, and never dealt in idle gossip. His forte was to lash the sore, and he did it in such a way as left no possibility of appeal. Too haughty for contest, he seldom brought forward a direct charge; but in common conversation he could leave his sting, and pass on, without noticing the wound, or explaining why it was inflicted. It is but charitable to suppose that more than half the pain he gave was unintentional, for he knew nothing of the peculiar feelings of those around him; and thus often punished where he meant to please, but seldom pleased where it was his wish to punish. He believed that all human beings were to be governed by the same iron rule, and that the errors of all might be corrected by the same chastisement. The principle upon which he maintained his authority was that of implicit

obedience; but he overlooked the most important part of moral government, the necessity of making obedience a matter of choice, and not of compulsion. Had Stephen Grey permitted the good-will he really felt for his fellow creatures, sometimes to appear before the eyes of men, more especially had he occasionally been known to sacrifice his own personal gratification for that of others, he might have won more affection from the warm young hearts around him; but it is not in human nature to love long or consistently the being who never makes any sacrifice of self, or who never exhibits such natural signs of tenderness as create a bond of protection and dependence between the powerful and the weak.

"Let who would be sick, or sorry, around the board or the hearth of Stephen Grey, his was the choice portion, and the warmest place. Not but that these privileges would have been willingly conceded to him as a right; but his manner was one that conveyed the idea of seizing rather than receiving; and it is wonderful the difference these two ideas produce in the feelings of the party whose place it is to resign.

"Yet with all these alarming peculiarities, Stephen Grey was a good neighbour, a lover of peace, an impartial judge, a powerful defender of the injured, and in short, a man who maintained both in his private and public life, a character of the most scrupulous integrity, and independence."

Who does not, at first sight, confess this picture to be true to the very life, and does not recognise in it many features too prominent in the neighbours around him? How many unhappy subjects does one tyrant-king Stephen Grey produce! And this is not, by far, the worst of the mischief. All those that have been oppressed, if they should be fortunate in the world, become themselves, in their turn, oppressors, if fortunate, if unfortunate, sycophants. Even the awful and God-delegated supremacy of the father is founded upon justice. He must be obeyed, because it is right, not because he wills it. Contrast two parents, one ruling only by love and by example, the other upon his ipse dixit, and sheer terror. Let but the former, for a short moment, show the least displeasure-how awful, how impressive, how effective it is; whilst the ravings, and even the blows, of the latter, are submitted to as a matter of course, producing resentment instead of reformation. But to see all this beautifully exemplified, let the reader possess himself of Miss Stickney's work.

Adventures in the North of Europe; illustrative of the Poetry and Philosophy of Travel. By EDWARD WILSON LANDOR. 2 Vols.

The domestic happiness, and the degree of civilisation of the northeastern portions of Europe, are but little known in the countries more favoured by climate. Its political importance, and the magnitude of the empire to which it belongs, have induced many distinguished travellers to reach and pass the snow-encircled capitals of Russia: Moscow and St. Petersburgh, are comparatively well known. But little interest is felt or expressed about what is going on in Copenhagen, Stockholm, and Bergen, excepting by the diplomatist, the merchant, or the geographer. Mr. Edward Landor, in the work before us, has done well and done much to dissipate this general apathy. But he did not travel with pomp and circumstance; with a wallet on his shoulders, and a trusty stick in his hand, he perambulated over many provinces, associated with the humble and fared with the peasant, and, consequently, as he left much to chance he met with many curious, and some very touching, adventures. He sought not only for the usual advantages, but also for the poetry of travel; for wherever the finger of God had written his glory in the steep mountain, or the vast and silent lake, Mr. Landor read the imperishable text, and his bosom immediately vented its gushing feelings in poetry. The philosophy, also, of travel, he has illustrated in its utility, in weigh

ing the advantages of the different grades of society in various nations, and in bringing home to the mind those reflections that, if properly entertained, or if even entertained at all, cannot fail to make us both wiser and better. There is, also, a romantic and curious fiction connected with these travels. The supposed traveller is a clergyman, who is travelling in search of peace for a heart lacerated by a severe domestic affliction, consequently the tone of the whole work is beautifully moral, instructive, and subdued. This is more remarkable in the second than in the first volume. We make the following extract, not because it is a favourable specimen of the author's style, but on account of its intimate connexion with English associations, and our immortal bard.

About a mile behind the town of Elsinore is a small summer palace of the king, and here are the gardens called the Hamlet gardens, supposed to be the scene of that famous tragedy. I ought not, perhaps, to give judgment on the gardens them. selves, as I beheld them so early in the season, that they had not recovered from the desolation of winter. Their chief ornament, at that time, consisted of about a dozen leaden statues painted white, Grecian gods and goddesses, heroes and heroines, all looking as starved and miserable as nudity in the climate of Denmark could make them. Beyond the palace, and running parallel with the sea at a quarter of a mile's distance, is a long bank covered with wood, which affords a delightful retreat for retirement and contemplation. The sea breeze is pure and exhilarating. The castle of Cronborg, below us, stands forth a noble and imposing object; and beyond it, the long line of the opposite Swedish coast preserves the eye from the weariness of a waste of waters.

"The castle of Cronborg is a very handsome building, and, by the Danes, accounted a strong fortress. In approaching it we have to cross three drawbridges, over as many moats. The garrison at present is slight, but the proper complement is said to be four thousand men. The view from the batteries is truly beautiful. There are vaults under the ramparts for the inhabitants of Elsinore to flee to whenever their town should be attacked. The menial offices of the fortress are performed by slaves-convicted felons who have been sentenced to this punishment. Our worthy king, James the First, spent a month in this castle. His bride, the Princess of Denmark, being detained, whilst on her passage to Scotland, by contrary winds on the coast of Norway, and, indeed, having in consequence resolved to pass the winter in that country, her royal husband became so impatient of her absence that be resolved to go himself to meet her. Accordingly he went, and remained some time in Norway, where he received an invitation to visit the king of Denmark, his father-in-law. The two kings met in the castle of Cronborg, then a royal residence, and the visit was agreeably spent in a round of gaiety and feasting-there being great rivalry between the Danes and Scots as to their respective capacities for drinking; and so earnest was the contention that many very surprising feats were performed on both sides.

"I fear my readers are tired of remaining so long at Elsinore, but I am particular in describing it, as it is a very good specimen of a Danish town, and, the rather, as I do not intend to be so diffuse in future. The first objects which strike the eye of a stranger in a foreign land press deeply into the memory; he examines with anxiety, and records with minuteness. But the novelty wears off in a few days; what appeared remarkable at first, becomes now matter of course, and if he afterwards meet with anything extraordinary, it scarcely has the power to affect him with surprise, because he is now, as it were, familiar with unusual sights. We therefore generally find that a traveller is most anxious to record his first impressions on entering a strange land, and that he afterwards observes with less attention, and narrates with less detail.

"I spent a sabbath at Elsinore, and attended divine service in the Lutheran church. It is a mean building externally, but the interior is gorgeous, and encumbered with gilding and ornament. There is, however, a beautiful screen, and a noble altar-piece of carved oak. That which struck me most in the edifice, was a number of raised pews, like separate galleries, which had glazed sash windows and curtains; so that the inmate had as much privacy as if he remained by his own fire side; and should the season prove displeasing to his taste, he had only to close the window and draw the curtain, and he might slumber in silence and peace. Of course, these exclusive seats belonged only to the most refined of the gentry, whose

sensitive feelings naturally shrink from the popular gaze. There is also, down one of the side aisles, a whole series of these boxes with glass windows, which have much the appearance of the stalls in Covent Garden market.

"The clergyman was, of course, in the Lutheran habit: a black gown, with a ruff round the throat. His sermon was long, but he had a quiet earnestness of manner, and a persuasive eloquence that pleased and attracted. I admired his discourse, though I did not understand a word of it. There were some of the congregation who understood without seeming to admire; and it is therefore probable that I returned at least as much edified as these."

We heartily recommend these beautiful and unpretending volumes to the reader's attention. They will afford him much valuable and curious instruction, and they are quite as amusing as is the best concocted fiction, be it either novel or romance.

Florigraphia Britannica; or, Engravings and Descriptions of the Flowering Plants and Ferns of Great Britain. By RICHARD DEACON, F.R.C.S.E., and ROBERT MARNOCK, Curator of the Sheffield Botanical and Horticultural Gardens.

We have received the first twelve numbers of this periodical, the title of which fully indicates their subjects. After giving the class and order of each plant or fern, the work next proceeds to give every curious and useful miscellaneous information connected with it. Indeed, the subject is fully and excellently elucidated, without any thing like verbosity. We will give one specimen of the manner in which this is done.

GENUS II. VERONICA. Speedwell.

Nat. Ord. SCROPHULARIN EE.

GEN. CHAR. Perianth double. Calyx of one piece, inferior, persistent, divided into four deep segments. Corolla wheel-shaped (rotate), deeply four cleft, the lower segment smallest. Capsule two-celled. The derivation of the name of this beautiful genus has much puzzled botanists: Sir J. E. Smith says," Its common etymology is of a mule kind between Greek and Latin, from verus, or or rather vera, true, and cikov, a figure; and this, illiterate and barbarous as it is, has the sanction of the superstitious legend of St. Veronica, whose handkerchief is recorded to have received the impression of our Saviour's face, as he used it in bearing his cross to the place of crucifixion. But we find nothing analogous in any of the herbs which have borne this name, nor any character, true or false, stamped upon them, except that of their own peculiar beauty." There exists to this day a difference of opinion as to the pronunciation of the name; and it was to the settling of this question that the controversial inquiry was mainly directed. "If," adds the learned authority above quoted, "there be any truth in its Greek origin, the i must be long; but if otherwise, the analogy of Betonica may justify the usual practice of throwing the accent on the o.

* Spikes or racemes terminal. (Root perennial.)

1. V. spicata, (Fig. 5.) spiked Speedwell. Spike terminal, stem erect, undivided, branching at the base, leaves opposite, oblong, tapering at the base, serrated, downy, lower or radical ones broader, ovate and stalked.

English Botany, t. 2.-English Flora, vol. i. p. 17.-Lindley, Synopsis, p. 188. -Hooker, British Flora, vol. i. p. 5.

Stem four to ten inches high, erect, downy. Lower Leaves opposite, broader, serrated or crenated in the middle, entire towards the extremities, upper ones long and narrow, serrated or entire, sometimes alternate. Spike terminal. Flowers numerous, dark blue. Bracteas linear. Calyx remarkably downy, twice as long as broad. Capsule in the immature state downy.

Habitat.-Chalky ground about Bury St. Edmund's and Newmarket Heath.

Rare.

Perennial; flowering July and August.

We conceive the subjects of this periodical to be almost inexhaustible, as the first twelve numbers, containing more than one hundred pages of small and close letter-press, have got no farther than the second order of the third class.

Schloss Hainfeld; or, a Winter in Lower Styria. By Captain BASIL HALL, R.N. F.R.S.

This very clever and amusing author, having been, through satiety, afflicted with a fit of the deplorables, amidst the magnificence of Rome, and finding the air rather oppressive, determined, with no fixed determination whither to proceed, to seek for the health and spirits of which the eternal city had deprived him. He had scarcely passed the confines of ennui and malaria, than he chanced upon an old acquaintance, in the person of a Polish countess, with this name, horrible to the palate, and dangerous to the teeth, Rzewuska. She brought him, from the heroine of this work, the following very curious and very characteristic invitation.

"MY DEAR SIR,

"With a grief which I cannot express, I discovered a few minutes ago, on looking over the little register of my letters, that I had addressed my answer to yours not to Rome, but to Naples. It was a degree of absence worthy of your good grand uncle, of absent memory; but I have not, alas! the apology of genius to plead. My mistakes are owing to a very different cause of late-to the state of my health. For more than three years I have been the victim of rheumatism, or what some physicians are pleased to call the tic-douloureux-volant. This cruel disease has torn my nerves in pieces, and when I am agitated, as I was when I received your letter-so dearly welcome to me-I became quite confused. Pardon, my dear sir, my seeming delay in answering your letter. I wrote instantly, but my silly letter is literally poste restante in Naples. I hope these lines will reach you safely, and convince Mrs. Hall and you how unfeignedly happy I shall be to see you and your little darlings. It will indeed be most gratifying to me if you will allow the infants to repose here for a few weeks, and find in Hainfeld the quiet of home. Your excellent Scotch nursery-maid will revive me with letting me hear once more the language of my heart. She shall arrange all bere exactly as she wishes, and, I trust, make the dear children comfortable. The house is very large; there are thirty-nine rooms on this floor. Not only your family, but any friends you choose to bring along with you, can find place enough. The country is truly healthy, the soil rich and well cultivated, and the hills and distant mountains covered with forests. The people resemble their oxen-they are diligent and docile. There are few neighbours, except in Hungary, (three hours' distance from this ;) and Hungary is a country little known and deserving your attention. Styria is also a country little known, owing to the singular fancy or fashion of the English always to fly between Vienna and Italy, by the way of Tyrol. Kotzebue says, The English carry their prejudices, as they do their tea-kettles, all over the world with them.' This, in general, is merely an impertinence; but in what respects the Tyrol roads, it holds true; our road is in many respects preferable.

"You inquire as to the state of the roads. They are excellent. The Eilwagen, a kind of diligence, takes regularly fifty-five hours between Trieste and Gratz, and twenty-five hours between Gratz and Vienna. As man and beast in Austria move discreetly, this, with the aid of your post-map, will show you the true state of the roads.

"The tenure of property in this country is very different from the English; and I would fain, were it possible, excite your curiosity as to Styria. The constitution of the American States interested you. Why should not ours do so? The country is divided into circles; mine contains 4,200 souls. My bailiff collects all the taxes within the circle; manages the conscription; the police; the criminal justice in the first instance, the property of minors, &c. &c. He must have passed his trials as an advocate, and I must pay him and his assistants, or what is called my