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man have, who thinks that they are identified with a wig! What should we say, as critics, if Shakspeare had introduced it as a poetical image, instead of the "robe," in the beautiful appeal of Isabella?

"Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's wig,
Become them with one half so good a grace,
As mercy does."

I must say, however, that I never heard any person venture to confess, that he was himself inspired with feelings of veneration by these hairy honours. No; the answer is, that such things must be retained for the sake of the impression they make on the vulgar. This is one of the commonest mistakes of pride, which de-. lights to fancy itself wiser than the rest of the world. The fact is, nobody is any longer gulled by such mummery; and the vulgar are quite as knowing as their betters. Some distinctions of dress may be necessary to preserve the distinctions of rank and office; but then these distinctions should be in unison with reason and nature. Look at the gray hairs of the Bishops of Ireland, or at the black locks of the reigning Pontiff at Rome, and see whether a wig is necessary to confer a character of venerableness. Were the judges in the wigless times of Sir Thomas More and Sir Matthew Hale, or the bishops in the days of Cranmer and Ridley, less respected than they are at present? Of the two, however, I must say, I find less to laugh at in the wig of the judge than of the bishop,-which last is the ne plus ultra of unbecoming quizzicality; and, when it happens to surmount a rosy face, with dark eyes, and black bushy eye-brows, presents the most ludicrous of contrasts. Still, as judges and bishops are generally advanced in life, and as elderly men are liable to lose their hair, some covering, if moulded more according to Nature's model, might perhaps be allowed; but how shall we excuse such a fashion in the young men of the bar, who are thus doomed to swelter under so intolerable a disfigurement? and all this too amongst a people who fancy themselves the most philosophical in the world, and who still laugh, as much as Addison did, at what they call the absurdity of the Catholic priesthood, who, because a Gothic bishop, eight hundred years ago, introduced a garment of a particular cut, still adhere to the same pattern. But to return from this digression to the business of the day. The Attorney General was concluding his speech in aggravation as I entered the court. Their lordships then consulted together; but, as it struck me, they did not conduct their deliberations with the greatest possible decorum; for while the whole audience were awaiting with breathless anxiety the result of their cogitations, they were smirking with one another, as if it had been a business of the most diverting nature. At last, one of the judges, turning to Sir Francis Burdett, in a low

tone of voice, proceeded to the discharge of his duty. After expatiating at great length upon the enormity of the offence, he concluded with a glorious anti-climax, by sentencing the Baronet to pay a fine of £2000 to the King, and to be committed to the custody of the Marshal of the Marshalsea,- for three calendar months!!! The cause of their lordship's merriment seemed now to be revealed, and the laugh instantly became general; while some of the spectators broke out into an involuntary expression of applause, which was most solemnly reprehended by the judge, who exclaimed, "This is extremely indecent." For my part, I thought the indecency was not all on one side. Who could help laughing? Laws, it seems, like cobwebs, can catch flies, but are not strong enough to hold wasps and hornets. Wakefield, Cobbett, Hampstead Hunt, and Bristol Hunt, with a whole mob of lesser fry, are sent to distant prisons, to linger out years of captivity; but Sir Francis Burdett, Bart. is sentenced to be committed to the custody of the Marshal of the Marshalsea, (which being interpreted, means that he is to live in the house of the keeper of the King's Bench prison, where he may be almost as comfortable as in his own house in Piccadilly,) for three calendar months! It seems

That in the Captain 's but a choleric word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy!

In America, we recognize no such offence as political libel; thinking that a government founded in the affections of the people has nothing to fear from such attacks;--and experience has not shewn us that we are wrong. With us, then, the freedom of the press is unlimited; and every man may circulate his sentiments without any risk, however hostile they may be to the administration, or even the constitution of the government. In England this right is also claimed; but though the executive power is here so much stronger than with us, and though it is supported by so irresistible a military force, the man who takes his pen in hand to attack the conduct of his rulers, writes with a halter about his neck. In undertaking to arraign public measures without offending against the law of libel, he stands much in the situation of Shylock, who was permitted to take his pound of flesh---provided he shed no drop of blood in the operation. Whether America or England be right on this point, is a distinct question. But if there be such an offence as libel; and if it be proper to punish it as it has been punished in this country, there surely never was a libel that more richly deserved a full measure, for its seditious and inflammatory tendency, than the letter of Sir Francis Burdett. But,-three calendar months! Who would not be a baronet? Well might Mackheath now sing:

If laws are made for every degree,'

I'm surprised we have not better company
At Tyburn Tree!

Feb. 12th. London is distinguished for nothing so much as for the number and magnificence of its charitable institutions. There is no calamity to which human nature is incident, but may find its particular asylum in this great metropolis. The mistaken charity of former times misapplied its means in erecting alms-houses for the poor, the effect of which has been, in all countries, to operate as an encouragement to indolence, and to create the poverty for which it undertakes to provide relief. For, who would not be poor, if poverty alone were to entitle a man to claim the means of support? There are, however, other modes, in which charity may exert itself for the benefit of mankind, to which these objections do not apply. There is no danger of men's breaking their legs in order to get admitted to infirmaries, or of running out of their wits in order to enjoy the comforts of Bedlam. But, besides hospitals and mad-houses, provision is here made for the orphan, the blind, the deaf and dumb, &c. &c. I went with a party this morning to the establishment for the deaf and dumb, who seem doomed by nature to a state of perpetual infancy;---that is, taking infans in its literal sense, quasi non fans. It is a handsome building, about two miles from London, on the Greenwich road. We knocked at the door and rung at the bell so often and so loud, that we began to fear the whole household laboured under the same infirmity. At last, however, we did gain admittance, and after producing our note of introduction to Dr. Watson, the manager, we were in a few moments introduced into the school-room. We were rather surprised, on first entering amongst a set of dumb beings, to hear much the same sort of buzzing hum that reigns in other schools. There were nearly two hundred children, boys and girls, arranged in opposite parts of the same room. As we entered, they surveyed us with a piercing scrutinising expression, that was very striking. They looked, as it were, all eyes :--

"Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eye."

It is impossible not to admire the pains and patience which first surmounted the difficulties of establishing a medium of communicating ideas to the mind without the common aid of language. But, as words are merely the signs of things, it is obvious that any other signs may be substituted; and there is no reason why visible should not serve the purpose as well as audible signs--both being equally arbitrary. Thus, their common mode of conversing with one another is by gestures; but their sense of sight -which seems to grow more acute, as it becomes more necessary--enables them to distinguish what is said to them, by observing the motion of the speaker's lips; and the voice is literally as visible to them, as it is audible to others.

Dr. Watson seems to have adopted the system of the famous Mr. Braidwood of Edinburgh, who not only taught his pupils to

see what was said, but also to speak themselves; though to effect this last purpose, he was obliged, however extraordinary it may seem, to call in the sense of touch to the aid of the sense of sight.

Dr. W. explained to us the method of teaching these helpless beings to write, read, and speak ;---for such is the inverse order of their attainments. They first write the letters of the alphabet, and learn to articulate them, by imitating the motions of the mouth and lips of the speaker, and by feeling at the same time, with their fingers, the vibrations in the speaker's throat, and adjusting their own pronunciation accordingly, by a correspondence of vibrations. From single letters they proceed to syllables, and so on to words and sentences. Hieroglyphic pictures are hung round the room, by which they learn to identify the words with the things for which they stand, and thus gradually acquire a vocabulary.

An interesting little lad, eight years old, who had been admitted about three months, had the words, body, head, face, nose, &c. written on his slate, which he was then studying. As we pointed to each word, he pronounced it in a deep tone, at the same time shewing us the part that each indicated. Another, who was of longer standing, answered several questions that we put to him. They speak, as might be expected, in a shrill monotonous key, without any cadence or modulation. Five years is the period allowed for their education by the rules of the establishment, in which time they are sufficiently instructed to enable them to play their part as members of society, and to earn their livelihood in any of the common occupations of trade.

This art of teaching the dumb to speak is of some antiquity. I remember meeting an account in some old book, of an instance related by Sir Kenelm Digby, who attended upon Charles I. when Prince of Wales, during his stay in Spain.

"There was a nobleman," says Sir Kenelm Digby, "of great quality, that I knew in Spaine, who was taught to heare the sounds of words with his eyes, if the expression may be permitted. This Spanish lord was born deafe, so deafe that if a gun was shott off close by his eare, he could not heare it, and consequently he was dumbe; for, not being able to heare the sounds of words, he could never imitate nor understand them. The lovelinesse of his face, and especially the exceeding spiritfullnesse of his eye, were pregnant signes of a well-tempered mind within, and therefore all that knew him lamented much the want of meanes to cultivate it; but all in vaine. At the last there was a priest who undertook the teaching him to understand what others spoke, and to speake himself that others might understand him, for which attempt he was first laughed at, yet after some years he was looked upon as if he had wrought a miracle. In a word, after strange patience, constancie, and pains, he brought the young lord to speake as distinctly as any man whatsoever, and to understand so perfectly what

they said, that he would not lose a word in a whole dayes conversation. It is true, one great misbecomingnesse he was apt to fall into whilst he spoke; which was an uncertainty in the tone of his voice; for, not hearing the sound he made when he spoke, he could not steadily govern the pitch of his voice; but it would be sometimes higher and sometimes lower, though for the most part what he delivered together, he ended in the same key as he began it."

Sir Kenelm goes on to say, that Charles, who took pleasure in the society of this extraordinary man, used to make some Welshmen of his retinue "speak words of their language, which he so perfectly echoed, that I confesse I wondred more at that, than at all the rest; and his master himselfe would acknowledge that the rules of his art reached not so far, and therefore concluded, that this in him must spring from other rules, which he had framed unto himselfe out of his own attentive observation; which the advantage which nature had justly given him, in the sharpnesse of senses, to supply the want of this, endowed him with an ability and sagacity to do beyond any other man that had his hearing." And, as a proof of this, Sir K. adds"I have seen him at the distance of a large chamber's breadth say words after one, that I, standing close by the speaker, could not hear a syllable of." But enough of this curious story, which may be found at length in Dr. Bulwer's Philocophus, or Deaf and Dumb Man's Friend.

UPON THE DEATH OF A CHILD OF EIGHT YEARS OLD.

OH! if the fond regrets of mortal love
Are heard before the throne of God above-
If to a soul too young for guilt, 'tis given
To find its own congenial home in Heaven-
If the warm tears of those who gave thee birth
May cleanse thy spirit from the stains of earth-
My Brother, go!--and while thy youthful lyre
Blends its fresh incense with th' immortal choir,
Oh may its holy echoes earthward flow
To soothe the hearts that weep thy loss below,
And Henry's form in all its new-born bloom
Chase the cold thought of Henry in the tomb!

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