the feelings and powers; in short, to form the man. His subsidiary merit is, that he has pointed out to instructors the order in which the faculties of the child develop themselves, and that he has furnished them with hints as to the best method of bringing those faculties to light. These hints are of course exceedingly valuable, because they are drawn from the long experience of an humble and diligent man who devoted himself, body and soul, to the work which he had undertaken. But they do not make up a system; he never regarded them in that light; he was miserable whenever it occurred to him, that others might so consider them. His work was to guide the instructors, not to fetter them; and it is precisely for this reason that we recommend the study of his works to all instructors. Many of his plans, they will find, may be improved by their own experience; and, as they were intended for Switzerland, no one who understands the importance of national characteristic differences, will import any of them unchanged into England. It would require a long study, to ascertain exactly the changes which would be necessary; but, speaking at random, we should say, that a somewhat tougher discipline, with a somewhat more palpable exhibition of religion than seemed to have entered into Pestalozzi's scheme, would be necessary in order to give due prominence to some of the more important elements in our national character.

The book at the head of our article, proceeds upon the Pestalozzian principle, that the development of the faculties is the It contains a series of conversations beobject of education. tween a mother and her children, in which (with a few exceptions which we think blemishes) the children are not taught, but led to think for themselves. The preface states, that the book is intended less for children, than for parents, who are to use it, not as a manual, but simply as a guide to assist them in discovering the best methods of educating their own children. Any other view of the book would have been inconsistent with the scheme upon which it professes to be written; and in this view, we think it may be extremely useful.

A faultless work of this kind, or one nearly faultless, would, in the first place, be impossible, and in the second, mischievous, because it would lead instructors to trust more to it than to their own resources. The experiment of drawing out the powers of a child, is no easy one, as every person knows who has made it; and it saves so much trouble, occasionally to insert a little of our own when we ought to be seeking what is in the child, that no one has yet entirely resisted the temptation. The Writers of the "Aids to Development" have evidently felt it strongly, and occasionally have yielded to it. These deviations, however, as they do not constitute by any means a large propor

tion of the work, and as the readers are warned very emphatically in the preface to expect them, will be almost as useful to intelligent parents in the way of beacons, as the more consistent and valuable parts of the book will be in the way of guide-posts. For this reason, as well as for the excellence of its design and general execution, we cordially recommend the work to those who think for themselves. To those who do not, of course, like all other works, it will be useless or dangerous.

The religious conversations, which constitute more than half the book, are arranged with great skill, and for the most part inculcate doctrines which we warmly approve; but they are, perhaps, more open to the objection we have mentioned, than the rest of the volumes. Nevertheless, few of those to whom the work is addressed, and to whom we have recommended it, will fail to derive great benefit from the perusal of them; and, as mere pieces of divinity, many of them are highly interesting.

These conversations embrace various subjects of education, and are held between a mother and her children, who differ from each other both in age and dispositions. We give the following with the youngest of the family, as the most convenient in point of length, though by no means the best specimen of the style in which the book is written.

'INFANT DEVELOPMENT AND ARITHMETIC. Mamma. Come, my little boy, tell me what this is? Edward. My hand, mamma.

Mamma. And how many

hands have you,

Edward?

Edward. Two, mamma.

Mamma. Of what else have you two?

Edward. Two eyes, mamma.

Mamma. And what other two things have you?

Edward. Two feet, mamma.

Mamma. And have you two of any thing else?

Edward. Two holes in my nose, mamma.

Mamma. Those are called nostrils, my dear; and how many have you got of those fat, rosy things on each side of your nose?

Edward. Oh, two cheeks, mamma.

Mamma. Now, think of some other things of which you have two? Edward. Two shoulders, mamma.

Mamma. And what is between your shoulders and your hands, Edward?

Edward. Elbows, mamma, and two wrists also.

Mamma. Look about you, and you will find several more things, of which you have two.

Edward. Two thumbs, mamma.

Mamma. Put your hands on your face, and find me some more things there, of which you have two also?

Edward. I said eyes, cheeks, and nostrils; oh, there is the skin that covers my eyes.

Mamma. Your eye-lids, Edward; and think of some things higher up in your face; what are they called?

Edward. Eyebrows, mamma. I cannot remember anything else that I have two of.

Mamma. You used two things, Edward, which you have not named, when you spoke to me now.

Edward. Did I, mamma?

was it, mamma?

I have only one tongue. Two teeth

Mamma. Have you only two teeth, Edward?
Edward. Yes, mamma, many teeth.

Mamma. Well, dear, think again then.

Edward. Two jaws and two gums, mamma.

Mamma. Well, that is right, but there are two more things I want you to remember.

Edward. Oh, I have found out! two lips, mamma.

Mamma. Yes, Edward; but we have still many things to find out,

of which you have two.

Edward. Two! Two! Two sides, mamma.

Mamma. Right; now go on.

Edward. Two legs, mamma.

Mamma. And are your legs joined any where?

Edward. Yes, to my feet.-Ah! I have two ancles, and two heels, and two knees. Oh, what a number of things I have got two of! Let me add them all together. Two eyes, two eyebrows, that is four; two eyelids, that is six; two nostrils, eight; two cheeks, ten; two lips, twelve; two ears, fourteen; two shoulders, sixteen; two elbows, eighteen; two wrists, twenty; two arms, twenty-two; two hands, twenty-four; two thumbs, twenty-six; two sides, twenty-eight; two feet, thirty; two ancles, thirty-two; two heels, thirty-four; two legs, thirty-six; and two knees, thirty-eight.

Mamma. You have forgotten some things, Edward.

Edward. Oh yes, I forgot two jaws, forty; and two gums, they make forty-two. What a number of things, mamma! I did not know I had so many things!

Mamma. And don't you think, my dear, they are all of use to you? Edward. Yes, mamma, of great use.

Mamma. Let us talk about the use of some of them.-Can you tell me the use of your hands, Edward?

Edward. Yes, mamma; to lift things with, and to carry them about, and to roll my ball, and to open the door, and shut it, and to put on my hat, and to tie my shoes, and to eat with.

Mamma. What, do you eat with your hands, Edward?

Edward. No, mamma, but I put my food in my mouth with them. Mamma. True, my dear; now think of some more uses for your hands.

Edward. To pluck flowers, mamma, and to give bread to poor people with, and to shake hands with you and papa and other people. I don't know any more uses, mamma.

Mamma. What would you have done without your hands this morning, Edward, when you were in my room? What were you doing then?

Edward. Oh, mamma, I use my hands to draw and to write with, and to hold my book, and to build bricks too, mamma, and to stir the fire with.

Mamma. I hope you never use your little hands for that purpose, Edward. That is one use for my hands, but not for yours, till you grow older.

Edward. Mamma, I can cut out paper with my hands, when you lend me your scissors.

Mamma. You can so, my dear; and there is another use which I wonder you have forgotten. I saw you using them just now for it. Edward. Just now, mamma? Oh, to stroke my cat; and, when I was a little boy, I used them to hold by Jane, for fear she should let me down when she carried me.

Mamma. Cannot you remember any other use for your hands, my dear?

Edward. I will think, mamma. Yes, to dig in my garden with, and to pull up the weeds too, and draw the curtains with, and to wash face with. Mamma, are they of any other use than those I have said?

my

Mamma. Think, my dear, for yourself.

Edward. I forgot to say, to water my flowers with, mamma, and to put crumbs out for the little birds.

Mamma. I remember another use, Edward; do you like to oblige

me?

Edward. Yes, mamma, very much.

Mamma. And do your hands ever help you to do so, Edward? Edward. Yes, mamma, when you tell me to bring you anything; your work-box or a footstool, or many other things. I am very glad God gave me hands, mamma.

Mamma. You must always try and use them, my dear, for the purposes for which they were given to you, and never for anything which God would not like. If you do not now recollect any other use for your hands, we will talk about something else; what shall it be?

Edward. My feet, if you please, mamma.

Mamma. Come then, tell me what is the use of
your feet.
Edward. To run, and walk, and jump with, mamma.
Mamma. And what else, my dear?

Edward. Oh, to hop, and skip, and slide with, mamma.
Mamma. And think of some other use you can make of them.
Edward. To climb with, mamma, and to stamp on my spade, and to
kick my ball with, and to put my shoes on to.

Mamma. I think your shoes were made to be of use to your feet, and not your feet to fit your shoes, Edward!

Edward. Yes, mamma, certainly; but my feet have not so many things to do with them as my hands. I do not know any more. May we talk about my mouth, mamma ?

Mamma. Yes, my dear, if you wish it; but first tell me, how you spell feet, that I may write it down.

Edward. May I make the word with my letters, mamma? I can get the box in a moment.

Mamma. Do so, my love.

Edward. Here, mamma, are the letters- -FEET.
Mamma. How many letters are there, Edward?
Edward. Four, mamma. May I make hands too?
Mamma. You may, my dear; how do you spell it.

Edward. I will give you the letters, mamma, and you shall am right. Here they are.

see if I

Mamma. You have given me H E NDS; does that spell hands, my love? Which letter is wrong?

Edward. The second, mamma; it should be a.

There it is, don't

move the letters, pray, till we have got all the words. Now mouth, mamma; may I talk about my mouth?

too.

Mamma. Yes, my dear, you can easily find the use of that, I think. Edward. To talk with and to bite with.

Mamma. Do you bite with your mouth, Edward?

Edward. No, mamma, with my teeth; but I eat with my mouth

Mamma. You do so; and what else do you do with it.

Edward. Kiss you, mamma, and my sisters.

Mamma. And what else, Edward?

Edward. Blow and breathe, mamma.

Mamma. You breathe through your mouth or through your nose, but not with them, my dear; when you are older, I will tell you how breathe.

you

Edward. I whistle with my mouth, mamma, and pout.

Mamma. The last is a use I should be very sorry to see you make of your mouth, Edward; we were only to find proper uses for it, and I don't think that is a proper one; do you, my dear?

Edward. No, mamma; I only pout when I am cross. May I make the word mouth now, I do not know what I can do with it besides ? Mamma. Yes, my dear, if you know how.

I

Edward. Here, mamma, is this right :-M o WSE? Mamma. No, my love, only the two first letters are right. I thought you would not find it so easy to spell as the other words. will pick out the letters, and you shall try and put them together. Edward. I cannot find out how they go, mamma; is this rightMU OTH? it sounds so.

Mamma. No, my love, you must make the second and third letters change place, and then it will do. Now spell it to me.

Edward. MOUTH. I think I shall know it another time, mamma.' Vol. I. pp. 84-91.

Art. V. A Memoir of the Rev. Legh Richmond, A.M. of Trinity College, Cambridge; Rector of Turvey, Bedfordshire; and Chaplain to H.R.H. the late Duke of Kent. By the Rev. T. S. Grimshawe, A.M., Rector of Burton Latimer, Northamptonshire, and Vicar of Biddenham, Bedfordshire. 8vo. Second Edition. pp. xii. 662. Portrait. Price 14s. London. 1828.

THERE are two very different descriptions of biographical memoir; one may be designated as historical, the other as