history of the Cordillera; and that Cordillera itself is modern as compared with some other of the fossiliferous strata of South America."

Our next and concluding extract refers to the Keeling Islands, which are of coral growth, and which are still low, forming lagoons, -the ocean having by its constant and stupendous force thrown up fragments, so that a reef is constructed that prevents its rage from destroying the nascent interior, and to which a great variety of vegetable substances have been drifted from other shores. He says,

"I can hardly explain the cause, but there is to my mind a considerable degree of grandeur in the view of the outer shores of these lagoon islands. There is a simplicity in the barrier-like beach, the margin of green bushes and tall coco-nuts, the solid flat of coral rock, strewed here and there with great fragments, and the line of furious breakers, all rounding away towards either hand. The ocean, throwing its waters over the broad reef, appears an invincible, all-powerful enemy, yet we see it resisted and even conquered by means which at first seem most weak and inefficient. It is not that the ocean spares the rock of coral; the great fragments scattered over the reef, and accumulated on the beach, whence the tall coco-nut springs, plainly bespeak the unrelenting power of its waves. Nor are there any periods of repose granted. The long swell, caused by the gentle but steady action of the trade-wind, always blowing in one direction over a wide area, causes breakers, which even exceed in violence those of our temperate regions, and which never cease to rage. It is impossible to behold these waves without feeling a conviction that an island, though built of the hardest rock, let it be prophyry, granite, or quartz, would ultimately yield, and be demolished by such irresistible forces. Yet those low, insignificant, coral islets stand, and are victorious; for here another power, as antagonist to the former, takes part in the conThe organic forces separate the atoms of carbonate of lime one by one from the foaming breakers, and unite them into a symmetrical structure. Let the hurricane tear up its thousand huge fragments; yet what will this tell against the accumulated labours of myriads of architects at work night and day, month after month? Thus do we see the soft and gelatinous body of a polypus, through the agency of the vital laws, conquering the great mechanical power of the waves of an ocean, which neither the art of man, nor the inanimate works of nature, could successfully resist."

test.

There is splendour in such speculations as these, provided experiment and observation warrant the conclusion. In regard to the formation of Coral Islands, many valuable discoveries have been made; and Mr. Darwin himself is about to publish the ascertained facts on this subject, and the manner in which science has been and can be brought to make use of these facts. With respect to some other theories advanced in his present work, the cautious as

well as the timid and incompetent inquirer will pause until much fuller details are given of what he has seen, and of the course of reasoning pursued in his interpretation of them than have been afforded in the volume before us. Still we look forward with considerable confidence to the treatises which he promises for the developement of his views, seeing that a mind of no ordinary grasp, clearness of conception, and dignity of purpose, is so richly stored with whatever has been conjectured, or has been established by the most eminent of the naturalists who have preceded him, as to augur very favourably for the interests of the particular branches of study to which he has devoted himself.

ART. IX.-An Essay on the Utility and Advantages of Classical Studies. pp. 48. London: 1839.

As literature deals more particularly with the taste and sensibilities of man, the effects of literary pursuits, being more strictly confined to the mind, are less obvious, and their claims less likely to be appreciated. But in proportion as the intellectual nature and moral sensibilities of man are more important than mere scientific attainments, in the same proportion those studies, connected with this nature and these sensibilities, ought to be held in higher estimation. When the education of a youth is, according to the common estimate, complete, how little, how very little does he know, in comparison with what may yet be learned! The whole amount of his knowledge is as nothing, in comparison with the extent to which he still continues ignorant. The chief value of his education, therefore, must consist in the cultivation it bestows upon his mind. The worth of youthful studies must be rated, less by the importance of the subjects on which they are employed, than by their adaptation to their great end; which is, to strengthen the intellectual powers; and train up the mind to activity and vigour, by sound discipline, and well-ordered exercise. Hence the propriety of conducting through the same preparatory course of study those intended for different pursuits in life. And hence, too, may be derived a sufficient answer to an objection often urged; that the studies in question have no relation to the intended callings of many who pursue them. For, however paradoxical the assertion may appear, yet experience will approve it to be true, that a youth, who has pursued with diligence the study of the ancient languages, though he shall, upon going forth into the world, and engaging in the active duties of life, throw aside his books, never to open them again, is so far from having wasted the hours spent upon them, that he could not have employed the same portion of time with equal advantage in any other way. But if the mere study of a language be in this point of view important, the actual possession of VOL. II. (1839). No. III.

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it will appear no less so, when we consider how much an acquaintance with one, facilitates the acquisition of a second, and a third; what essential aid a knowledge of the ancient affords to the student of modern tongues, as respects the utility of which there is no dispute; and that it is difficult, if indeed it be possible to know well even our own language, otherwise than through the medium of the Latin and Greek. But, not to dwell on these, and other like arguments, is it not enough, that Greek lays open to us, and renders accessible, the richest treasures of human wisdom; the fairest creations of the mind of man? Can we need a more persuasive motive to the study of a language than that it contains the most perfect models of poetry, of history, of eloquence? That it is the language in which Homer sang; in which Herodotus, Thucydides, and Xenophon record events they were actors in, or describe scenes they saw? In which Demosthenes roused or allayed at will the passions of his hearers? Can we be indifferent, lastly, to that language, in which are contained the sacred scriptures of the New Testament, and the most ancient and venerable version of the Old?

In a society circumstanced as ours is, the complaints made of the devotion to classical learning of so great a portion of the time of youth, ought not, perhaps, to excite surprise. These complaints, though founded in error, appeal to the prejudices of an age possessed with such a love of innovation, that it looks with an evil eye at systems of instruction established on the sure basis of long experience, merely because they are ancient; of an age so devoted to the pursuit of gain, that it regards with little favour what has not a tendency to promote some pecuniary end; as there were nothing suited to advance the condition of society, or to grace and embellish life, except improvements in railways; the devising new applications of steam; the opening new channels of trade; or the discovery of some new process in the arts. These complaints, we say, have their foundation in error, for they suppose, that one employed in the study of classical literature is employed upon empty sounds; is acquiring nothing that can aid him in the serious pursuits of life. But this is far from being true. And if it were so, we might still with truth maintain, that the object of youthful studies is not so much to furnish as to form the mind. Classical studies, however, while they, in the most effectual manner, attain this chief end of youthful discipline, do much besides. They not only form the faculties, but supply the memory with a rich stock of information. The student spends much time in learning words, no doubt; but he cannot learn the signs, without at the same time gaining some acquaintance with the things signified. Does he not learn the history, geography, and chronology of the ancient world; the civil, military, and religious institutions; the private life, manners, and customs of

the most interesting nations of the earth; as also, the wisest systems of philosophy and morals, that unassisted human reason has been able to invent? Does he not become acquainted with the most sublime and beautiful monuments of human wit and genius? And is it possible that all this should be unattended with most sensible advantage? What does experience teach us on this head? Let us use that of England; Shakspeare alone excepted, (who, it has been well remarked, is an exception to all rules,) what great poet, historian, orator, statesman, lawyer, or divine, has she produced, who was not a classical scholar? Hear the testimony which Chatham, one of the greatest of her statesmen and orators; one of those few who may be compared with the best of Greece or Rome; bears to the value of the studies we are called upon to defend. Writing to his young nephew, he expresses his joy to hear that he has begun Homer's Iliad, and has made great progress in Virgil, and his hope that he tastes and loves particularly authors, who are not only the two greatest poets, but who contain the finest lessons for his age to imbibe; lessons of honour, courage, disinterestedness, love of truth, command of temper, gentleness of behaviour, humanity, and in one word, virtue in its true signification. He exhorts his nephew to drink deep of those divine springs; and assures him that the pleasure of the draught equals the prodigious advantage of it to the heart and morals. Milton teaches, both by precept and example, the great value of these studies, and prays God to recompense a father, whose "exceeding great care had caused him to be diligently instructed in the tongues.' Locke states with his own entire approbation the opinion of La Bruyere, that languages are the proper study of our early years; that they are useful to men of all conditions, and open an entrance, to the most profound, as well as to the more entertaining parts of learning.

But, perhaps, after all, the main argument for classical studies, is neither the necessity of knowing Greek and Latin, to a thorough knowledge of English, nor the adaptation of the study of language to the powers of childhood and youth. The strongest argument lies in two considerations; the excellence of the classical authors, taken independently of everything else, and the fact of their antiquity. As works of taste and genius they stand, if not at the head, at least in the foremost ranks of literature. The authors which we have, are the choice authors, the picked men of all antiquity; and within their narrow circle we have the best representatives of every species of literary work. When letters awoke from the sleep of the dark ages, the classics became the teachers of taste and elegance to the reviving intellect of Europe. They were made the basis of a learned education, and intermingled with the delightful associations of the dewy morning of life. Much of the charm and splendour of Modern Literature is imparted to it by the veins of golden thought which

run through every part of its structure, from the inexhaustible mines of Antiquity. The voice of British Eloquence was trained in the schools of Athens and Rome; and the stately song of Greece sustained the majestic march of Milton.

But there is much, as we have said, in the fact of their antiquity to claim our respect. One of the most foolish whims of this age is to deride a love of the old. Those who are absurd enough to do so, forget, or perhaps never knew, that there lies deep in the human heart, an inextinguishable reverence for the past. As time goes on, all the meannesses that encompass human life disappear, and the grand features in the characters of the Ages alone remain as objects of our contemplation. The venerable forms of antiquity stand before us in severe relief, and we bow down in a willing homage of the heart to their unutterable majesty. The love of the old is connected with the best and highest feelings of our nature. The past is sacred. It is set beyond the revolutions of nature and the shifting institutions of man. So much of beauty, of experience, of wisdom is secure from the touch of change. He who would destroy this treasury of the heart and mind, by rudely assailing our reverence for the old, would rob human life of half its charm and nearly all its refinement. Let no enthusiastic student, then, permit his ardour to be chilled by the fear that his love has been wasted on an unreal thing ; that he has been bewildered by an idle dream; and that he has lost so much precious time, which ought to have been given to the stirring interests of the present; for he may rest assured that the study of antiquity has a noble power to elevate his mind above the low passions of the present, by fixing its contemplations on the great and immortal spirits of the past.

ART. X.-Class Book of Natural Theology; or, the Testimony of Nature to the Being Perfections and Government of God. By the Rev. GEORGE KATER. London: 1839.

THE moral constitution of the universe presents a problem that has perplexed the philosophers of all ages. When the mind of any one at all disposed to reflection, begins to expand itself and rise above merely physical and sensible things, it looks out from its new elevation with an anxious curiosity for the relations and prospects of existence. Though the child has been taught the existence of God, and the youth has felt the force of moral relations with the promptness of instinct, yet the man would fain contemplate the same subjects from a new point of view, and teach himself the great truths he had been taught by others, or which had spontaneously sprung up in his mind as essential to his being. He examines the grounds of his belief, not merely as matter of curious speculation, but as the