treatment; for external objects, according to circumstances, are all calculated to exacerbate or to soothe and here, accordingly, is an ample field for the employment of the best intelligence either of the professional or unprofessional attendant; and of course the more sensible and intelligent will be the more effective agent. Few rules can be laid down-every case requires its own treatment. No individuals are precisely alike, and in insanity, less than in any other disorder, apparently, are assimilations to be looked for. Never, however," says Dr. B., "exercise the mind of the insane in the sense of his delirium-never oppose his morbid ideas, affections, or inclinationsbut rather by diversity of impressions, give rise to new ideas and feelings, and thus, by exciting fresh moral emotions, revive the dormant faculties-and never commit yourself by promise; but if, inadvertently, a promise be given, adhere to it, unless the fulfilment will obviously be attended with worse consequences than the breach of it." The critical period is when the bodily disease is giving way. Generally, returning reason follows, as an effect of its cause; and if it do not, the case becomes hopeless. The least glimmer of reason should be cherished and encouraged; but the common mind and the cultivated will not bear being treated alike. This is the moment to reason with the patient to talk to him as to a rational person to assist in expelling fading illusions -to soothe remaining irritations-to repress his impatience for freedom. In the worst cases, the first symptom of returning reason is usually some sense of the decencies of life-the dropping of some pertinent remark, or asking some appropriate question, though hesitatingly, relative to his own situation, or that of his family, or giving way to his former obstinate defence of delusions. Sometimes convalescence announces itself by the gradual revival of the moral affections, and the feelings are often moved to tears. "No augury," says Dr. B., "is more favourable than such emotions; though feeble and transient, they should be encouraged, and every effort of returning reflection be guided with a gentle and imperceptible hand. No mistakes should be noticed, lest the exposure shock and discourage him. If painful recollections rise on reasoning on any remaining delusion, the subject must be changed, and resumed on a more favourable occasion. All questions relative to domestic matters should be answered promptly, where there is nothing to excite, but discreetly and shortly. The very flood of reminiscences endangers, and the difficulty, of course, is in hitting the medium. The memory is more impaired than is generally suspected. Lunatics recognise readily; but that appears to be the only part of memory unimpaired. But the difference in individuals is immense-to some, the retrospect is a perfect blank-to others like a dream-whilst others are in possession of all the realities of it; some refer to it with indifference-some with thankfulness for escape-others with pain and abhorrence. Of course they must be treated accordingly. The most satisfactory sign of convalescence is the fading of long delusions, and not replaced by new ones-especially if the patient allows them to have been delusions. Το reason with a lunatic is folly-to oppose or deny his hallucination is worse, because it is sure to exasperate. If we wish to make an impression on him, it must be by talking at him, not to him. Though he will not listen to what is addressed to him, he will readily apply what bears upon his own situation, more forcibly than any body else can do. To break the chain of morbid ideas by fraud, trick, terror, or surprise, is always hazardous. The chances are greatly against success, and failure makes matters worse. Nothing is found of equal effect with engaging the confidence of the patient. A cheerful, encouraging, and friendly address kind, but firm manners-patient to hear, but prudent in answering-never making a promise that cannot safely be performed, and when made, never to break it-vigilant and decided-prompt to control when necessary; and willing, but cautious, in removing it when once imposed-" These are the qualities," says Dr. B.," which will always acquire the good will and respect of lunatics, and a command over them that will accomplish what force can never attain." From all which it must be evident that great personal and individual attention is indispensable. No hope, generally, can there be of success, where patients are huddled together, and treated, in classes, all on one system. There must be great separation, and constant vigilance and inspection, and this involves great expense. Asylums, supported by contributions, or by counties, well attended to and superintended-where money-making is not the object of the institutions-seem to be the only means of effecting material good, and especially among the poor. These institutions are every-where spreading. Liberal, but not extravagant remuneration should be given to conductorsrewards in proportion to cures every encouragement given to personal care and kindness-all useless and severe restraint forbidden-and the forbiddance rigorously enforced by the authority of superiors. ON TIME. TIME by moments steals away LITERATURE OF RUSSIA. (From the Foreign Review, No. IV.) THE literature of Russia is but imperfectly known to her immediate neighbours, and still less in this country; yet a language spoken by nearly forty millions of people, containing upwards of eighty thousand printed works, may reasonably be supposed to deserve soine attention, and to possess some treasures for the reward of the diligent student.* Had any one, half a century ago, inquired whether the Germans possessed a literature, he would probably have been told, either that High Dutch" was the most barbarous and dissonant of modern idioms, utterly incapable of eloquent or elegant expression; or that their only writers were dull commentators, and insufferable pedants-for the very idea of German poetry was an absurdity. Our conclusions on Russian are about as accurate: we meet with mis-spelt, ugly-looking names, which we at once declare to be unpronounceable, and then affirm that the language is a most miserable jargon. But the Russian language has powers and capabilities. No tongue, with which we are acquainted, combines, in a greater degree, the qualities which render language agreeable in itself, and a comprehensive interpreter of thought. It is sonorous, varied, harmonious; equally adapted to the terrible and the pathetic, the gay and the plaintive; the sublime and the familiar; exceedingly rich and copious, abounding in synonyms, and susceptible of bold and significant combinations. It is enabled, moreover, to render, by different forms of the same primitive word, those delicate nuances and shades of expression, which otherwise demand adjunct termsa circumstance highly favourable not only to precision, but to condensation and rapidity. In fact, it is often necessary to employ five or six words in English to convey the meaning of two in Russian. As a vehicle for poetry, it is, perhaps, superior to most modern European languages, from its numerous polysyllabic words, its great variety of accent, and its abundant store of poetic terms. Some writers have pretended to find Russia has naturalized almost every production of eminence belonging to the literature of other countries. It possesses many translations of Byron, Moore, Scott, &c. although foreign names are frequently so metamorphosed in the Russian, that it is difficult to recognise them: for instance, Moore is rendered Mur; Rousseau; Russo, so that unless the name be already known, there is great danger of spelling it incorectly, in translating it from the Russian characters; for who would decipher in such words as Gero, Gerd, Kuper, Vulet, the names of Hereau, Heard, Cooper, and Woollett! Some of the titles of Valter Skotts' novels have undergone a change, the Fugitive being substituted for that of Waverley, and the Paritans for Old Mortality. a striking analogy between the Latin and the Russian; but we have never been able to detect any similitude except in a few solitary instances. In the names of familiar objects, and the verbs used to express ordinary actions, there is not the slightest resemblance; nor do we think it would be possible for any one to find a single sentence in which he could make out the sense of two words, merely by being acquainted with Latin. There is, however, one peculiarity common to both languages, namely, the want of the articles. This may be considered as a defect; yet, in reading Russian, we have rarely found difficulty or perplexity, as the demonstrative pronoun is generally used to supply the deficiency in those cases where it would occasion ambiguity. Of the successive changes which the language has undergone, of the influence of the Mongol dialect during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, of earlier literary records and monuments, we shall not here attempt to speak. In Russia, as in our own country, the earliest writers were chroniclers and ecclesias tical annalists. Historical and moral tales borrowed from the Greek, with traditional narratives and ballads, constituted for several ages all the literature of Russia. With the dynasty of Romanov commences the modern history of Russian literature. On this event a new impulse was given to the government; towns and fortresses were erected factures were established; public schools in Siberia; commerce was extended, manuwere founded; the clergy brought with them from the Universities of Italy and Poland a taste for polite learning; and in 1682, an academy was founded at Moscow, for the study of theology, philosophy, rhetoric, and the liberal sciences. Literature, however, cannot be said to have flourished even in the reign of Peter the Great; and, notwithstanding his extensive patronage, he lived not to behold the seed which he had sown spring up and luxuriate. The language, too, was inundated at that time by a number of foreign words; while the style employed in composition was vague and unsettled, nor was there any model of sufficient authority to serve as a standard. The Metropolitan of Novgorod, Theophanes Prokopovitch (1681-1736), is almost the only writer of the period who distinguished himself by the force of his compositions; and some specimens of his sacred oratory, notwithstanding their blemishes, deserve to be considered models of commanding eloquence and powerful thought. Prince Antioch Dmitrievich Kantemir, the next who deserves to be mentioned, was an individual of rare and truly estimable qualities, not more distinguished by the splendour of his birth, than by his devoted attachment to literature and the sciences. A soldier-for he accompanied his father, the Hospodar of Moldavia, in a campaign against Persia, in 1722-a diplomatist, in which quality he visited both our own country and France; a courtier, high in favour with his sovereign-he, nevertheless, preferred to all these titles those of philosopher and poet. In an exceedingly interesting sketch, entitled, " An Evening with Kantemir," Batiushkov has given a conversation between the Prince, Montesquieu, and an Abbé. The two latter surprise the ambassador in his study, where they find him surrounded by bis papers. At first they imagine him occupied with official business, but are informed, to their astonishment, that he is writing verses-(verses in the language of the Scythians and Hyperboreans)! The following reply, made by Kantemir, to the remarks of the French philosopher, touching the unpropitious influence of the climate of Russia, may serve to refute some of the prejudices, even yet entertained, on that subject. "I was born at Constantinople, of a family, whose ancestors, at one time, sat on the throne of the eastern empire: Greek blood, therefore, still runs in my veins, and I love, with unfeigned attachment, the azure skies and ever-verdant olive groves of the South. In my youth I travelled with my father, the inseparable companion and loyal friend of Peter the Great, and visited the extensive vales of Russia, from the Dnieper to the Caucasus from the Caspian sea to the banks of the glorious Moskva. I know both the country and its inhabitants: the hut of the peasant and the lordly tower of the boyar are equally familiar to me. Instructed by the precepts of my father, who was one of the most enlightened men in Europe, trained up from my earliest years in the school of philosophy and experience, associating continually, in the closest intercourse, with strangers of all nations, it was impossible that I should retain any barbarous prejudices, and I accustomed myself to contemplate my country with the eye of an impartial observer. At Versailles, in the cabinet of your sovereign, in the presence of his ministers, I am the representative of the monarch of a great people; but here among friends, and conversing with one of the most eminent geniuses of Europe, I consider it my duty to speak unreservedly, preferring rather to be accused of ignorance, than of either prejudice or insincerity. This then is my answer: you know what Peter accomplished for Russia; he created his subjects-no, he only developed their mental powers, and eradicated the disorder which had so long oppressed them-popular ignorance; and under his guidance, the Russians soon showed that talents are a universal property, confined to no particular face or climate. Ere fifteen years had elapsed, that illustrious monarch beheld the fruits of his own labours and those of his co-operators: all the arts which are auxiliary to warfare and military science attained to perfection during his reign. Our victories announced to the rest of Europe that we had artillery, fleets, engineers, expert and active seamen. What more could you expect of us within so short a space?-intellectual treasures-the fruits of science, the productions of the fine arts, eloquence and poetry? Grant us but time and favourable circumstances, and you shall be compelled to admit that we are not destitute of the higher powers of mind. You contend that the influence of climate is paramount. I admit that it is considerable, yet this influence (as you yourself have observed in your own admirable book) is considerably modified and weakened by the form of government, and by the state of morals and of society. Our climate itself, too, is exceedingly varied. Speaking of our country, strangers imagine Muscovy to be covered with perpetual snows-to be inhabited by savages. They do not consider the vast extent of Russia; they forget that, at the very time that the inhabitant of the frozen shores of the White Sea is chasing the marten, the more fortunate occupier of the banks of the Volga is reaping his fertile harvest. Even the northern regions are not so full of horror, for they produce all that the cultivator of their fields finds requisite for his wants. The plough is the foundation of society-the link which unites its members together, the support of the laws; and what district is there throughout all Russia where this instrument leaves not its beneficent traces? The progress of civilization will change the face of the country, and, I may venture to say, will transform Russia into one of the most enlightened empires in Europe. When Tacitus described Germany, did he imagine that elegant cities and splendid capitals would rise up on the site of its gloomy forests, or that the light of intellect would diffuse its rays from the recesses of Pannonia and Noricium? Certainly not: but the illustrious Peter, wielding in his single hand the destiny of millions, consoled himself with the sublime idea that the tree of science would, sooner or later, flourish on the banks of the Neva, and bring forth fruits to enrich, not only his own people, but those of other nations. You, President, are a constant observer of the political world-its phrases and revolutions: in the ruins of past ages, in the ashes of haughty Rome, and the once beautiful Greece, you have detected the cause of the changes which we now hehold, and have learned to predict the future. You cannot but know, therefore, that the progress of civilization insensibly alters institutions and forms of government; nay, you have already perceived these changes in Russia. Time destroys and re-models-spoils and perfects every thing. In the course of a few centuries, or perhaps within a shorter period, favouring Providence may send to us some bold mind that will complete the grand idea conceived by Peter; and at his creative voice, the empire, which is the most extensive on the globe, will become illustrious as the guardian of laws, and of the freedom founded on them;-of morals, which give stability to laws-in one word, of civilization. Delightful, inspiring hopes! In time ye will be fulfilled! The benefactor of my family-the benefactor of Russia, reposes in the tomb; but his spirit, that great, that generous spirit, hath not deserted the land of his affection: it still remains to inspire it with fresh life and energy. Methinks I constantly hear him exclaim to his countrymen -"Advance in the career which I have opened for you; nor stop till you shall have reached the goal to which I have directed you."-Batiushkov, vol. i. p. 65. The following is from one of Kantemir's satires. It is put into the mouth of a drunkard : "When mortals ride across the blue profound; POLICE OF THE METROPOLIS. (From the London Magazine.) MR. THOMAS, the constable of St. Paul's Covent-garden, has been giving some very curious evidence before the Police Committee. Mr. Thomas himself is, by no means, an ordinary person: being somewhat of an enthusiast in performing the duties of a constable--and has been not a little snubbed and thwarted by the regular practitioners, who like business to go on in a quiet, cosey sort of way, in consequence. But it seems that his zeal, notwithstanding, has not outrun his discretion-inasmuch as nearly all the charges he has preferred have been followed by convictions. Moreover, the evidence he has given is manifestly that of a shrewd, intelligent, and quick-sighted man-who has picked up a vast mass of facts in comparatively a short time, who draws most sensible general conclusions from these facts, and who proposes, thereupon, what seems to us very sound remedies for the evils he brings to light. If in the course of his investigations he represents a portion of these evils as springing, in some measure, from the persons whose duty it is to prevent them, we confess we do not think the blame of such a representation being made rests at all with Mr. Thomas. Better had he not had facts to bear him out in so doing.-Consider we now some portions of the evidence. First-For it interests us the most-we are delighted to learn that the boys who, from six till eight in the evening, pester all passengers between Leicester-square and Temple-bar with play-bills are, like King Arthur's three celebrated serving-men, "all of them thieves."- We are delighted at this, because, supposing the laws to be duly administered, it affords some prospect of the youthful gentry aforesaid being removed from the streets above indicated to the tread-mill, the hulks, Botany Bay, and, it is to be hoped, the gallows, respectively. Every unhappy but peaceful liege subject of his gracious majesty King George the Fourth, who may have occasion to pass along that line of the said king's highway, denominated "the Courts," and so on to Covent-garden, between the hours above indicated-and, besides the theatres, there are many substantial reasons why, at those hours, an individual so progressing-to wit, that rang of most delectable refectories, beginning a Joy's and ending at the Bedford (and wha a vast degree of culinary skill and vinous eminence does not that small bit of ground include!)-every such liege subject must be assaulted, attacked, and, if not battered, bothered to death by the juvenile vermin above-mentioned-running between one's legs, and bawling "Bill of the play-your honour-only a penny, Sir!-only a penny!-Common-garden and Doory-lane, Sir! -only a penny, Sir!"-Yes, in the nineteenth century, many dwellers in the metropolis of these kingdoms have to undergo a purgatory such as this. Nay, you have to run the gauntlet through these imps--for they now stretch as far as Coventry-streetand they increase in numbers and vigour as you approach "the Garden." We remember, not long since, upon being thus assailed for the third time, before we had got through Cranbourne-alley, ejaculating to the urchin, thus-" This is too bad!-you are the third rascal that has pestered me within the last two minutes-now the next who does it, I will break his bones, and, recollect, you have fair warning!" Our friend, who was with us, said this warning was Hibernian-but, depend upon it, it would do exceedingly well to act upon. However, Mr. Thomas tells us that these dispensers of dramatic intelligence are almost particular and preternatural thieves-and, therefore, we hope they may be all hanged accordingly, and that, like the beef-steak, it may be done quickly. Next, Mr. Thomas informs us, that when he began with his new broom to sweep clean the very dirty purlieus of Coventgarden--the officers of police threw every sort of impediment and impertinence in his way. A man who put down thieves in their district would injure them in two ways. First, he would show that they did not do it -and, secondly, he would demolish the great source of their profit--a proper succession of crops of thieves-not to be rudely rooted out at once-but to "come up" gradually, according as they are wanted by their friends and fosterers the police. Thus, on one occasion, while Mr. Thomas is clearing the entrance of Drury-lane theatre of the "habit and repute thieves" who were there basking in the sunshine of the officers' presence the said officers seize him-drag him through the streets as though he were one of the pickpockets himself—and then accuse him of having assaulted them. Their complaint being dismissed-which it was instantly-poor Mr. Thomas wants to say a word in his turn; but the great Sir Richard, like Judge Gripus, deeming it better to hear only one side, stops his mouth, and says "It is all a squabble of jealousy between the officers, and therefore I shall have nothing to do with it: you may go and indict each other." This is pleasant and just. The matter being peculiarly in his jurisdiction, and fitted for summary process, Sir Richard will not hear a word the unhappy constable has to say but refers him for redress to an expensive prosecution he having been maltreated for daring to do his duty, while the officers were neglecting theirs. No wonder thieves thrive in the parish of St. Paul's, Coventgarden. Seriously, the police of London is shown by the whole report of the committee, to be in a state very thoroughly needing revision; and we trust that another session of Parliament will not pass without some measure being brought forward with that object. THE Dutch have always been famed for their prudence, the judicious way in which they conducted their internal management, and the care that they have taken of their poor. Mr. Jacob, the well known reporter on the corn trade, whose observations have been published by the "Society for Improving the Condition of the Lower Order of Tenantry, and Labouring Population of Ireland," conceives it very possible to introduce a similar plan into that country. He has selected one of the Pauper Colonies of Holland in illustration. The colony taken is that of Frederick's Oord. The originator of the scheme was General Van den Bosch. The general, while in the island of Java, had formed a connexion with a Chinese mandarin, whose skill in farming he had admired, and who had under him a colony of emigrant Chinese. This connexion turned out so well, that the general, on his return to Europe, was able to sell his estate for six times the original cost. Though the plan which the mandarin and his colony of emigrants adopted in cultivating the Javanese estate be not mentioned, it is by no means improbable, that it was the same with that adopted in the Netherlandsonly allowing for the difference of climate and produce; as General Van den Bosch could not cultivate his own estate in Java to so much profit, till he entered into the arrangement with Tjan-hoeck, the mandarin. In justice, therefore, we ought to consider the plan as originally a Chinese, and not a Dutch one, though the Dutch have the merit of introducing it into Europe. General Van den Bosch laid before the King of the Netherlands a plan for a pauper establishment, which at once met with the royal patronage. A public meeting was held at the Hague in 1818, and a Society of Beneficence formed, and two committees organized for its maficence, consists of twelve members—or a prenagement. The first, or Committee of Benesident, two assistants or assessors, and nine members, one of whom acts as secretary. The president was appointed for life, the assessors annually, but capable of being re-elected; and the president was Prince Frederick, the second son of the king. The members form four sub-committees: finance, instruction, correspondence, and general purposes; the first and second having each an assessor for chairman, and the others choosing their own. The second committee, or Committee of Superintendence, consists of twenty-four members, who elect their own president and secretary. This committee examines and audits the accounts, watches the expenditure and operations of the society, and directs the prosecution of those who do not conform to its regulations. Having received the sanction of the king, the society was recommended to all the local authorities, and soon found itself in possession of 53801., obtained from more than 20,000 members. Having obtained funds, and made the necessary arrangements, the society purchased the estate of Westerbech Sloot, on the east side of the Zuyder Zee, and not far from the town of Steenwyk. This estate cost them 46607.; and it contained from 1200 to 1300 acres, about 200 of which was under a sort of culture, or covered with bad wood, and the rest a mere heath. They let the cultivated land, about one-tenth of the whole; deepened the Aa (which runs through the estate), so that it is navigable for boats, and built store-houses, a school, and dwellings for about fifty-two families, of from six to eight persons each. Their operations were begun in September, 1818; by the 10th of November the houses were ready; and the communes sent some poor families. The total expense of each family, in sterling money, was as follows: |