partly with the children of Dissenters, who did not object in the least in some cases to their children remaining even during the religious lessons given in the school. But whenever a power from without endeavours to force joint schools upon a locality, then the clergy and the Dissenting ministers and many of the parents begin to be alarmed. Of course, Government ought to require, where a school was established for two sects, and the schoolmaster was chosen from the most numerous sect, that the children should either attend the religious lessons given to the school, or should receive daily religious instruction from one of the ministers of their own sect."-Pp. 338-340. We see some little difficulty in the working out of this plan, but the principle appears to be fair and reasonable. It is, indeed, essentially the plan embodied in the educational clauses of the late Factory Bill, which excited such violent and deserved hostility throughout the country, but applied in a far more liberal and equitable spirit.

In the course of his observations on this subject, our author throws out a suggestion which we think is highly worthy of our readers' attention. He would lay a portion of the expense of maintaining the schools upon the Union, substituting it gradually for the expenditure in the out-door relief of the able-bodied. He is of opinion, and we quite agree with him, that if the children of our poor were to enjoy the benefit of a thoroughly sound education, pauperism would be diminished to such a degree, that to do this would impose no additional burthen on the rates. But he would do this gradually. He says,

"The evil effects of a public charity of this kind, in the stimulus it gives to improvidence and carelessness among the poor, is now too generally admitted to need any notice from me. It is however impossible, as I have before observed, to withdraw this relief suddenly. We have by our own neglect of the poor fostered the growth of our own pauperism; cruel, therefore, in the extreme would it be to suddenly withdraw the stimulant which we have made necessary to the people. We have pauperized the people by our own ignorant sectarianism-so that we could not in common justice or in common humanity deny them that relief which we ourselves have rendered necessary."-Pp. 348, 349.

These observations do equal honour to his head and to his heart.

Till some large and comprehensive scheme, respecting equally the rights and principles of all parties,-the Dissenter as well as the Churchman, can be devised by the Government, and matured by the intelligence of the thoughtful portion of the community, perhaps some part of the funds placed at the disposal of the Council of Education might be devoted with greater advantage to the augmentation of the salaries of the present schoolmasters than to the erection of fresh schools. But upon this point, not having all the materials for forming a correct judgment, we cannot pronounce a decisive opinion.

We must now bid adieu to our author, earnestly recommending him to the better acquaintance of our readers. We hope that many who peruse this brief, imperfect notice, will turn over and ponder his interesting pages. The subject of his book is one of immense and pressing importance. We are satisfied that it must more and more force itself on the attention of the public generally, apathetic as it has as yet shewed itself upon the subject; and that it must very shortly again claim the serious consideration of the Government, whatever party be in power. We would press, therefore, upon every thoughtful and benevolent individual, of whatever station, sect or party he may be,

the duty of reflecting deeply upon the question, of studying it in all its bearings, and of preparing himself for its further discussion in a calm, temperate, unprejudiced and forbearing spirit. If any measure of a really comprehensive and equitable character be brought forward by the Government, let not the country be deprived of the inestimable boon by any blind intolerance or unreasonable jealousy. If our different sects and parties would turn their attention more to the points on which they agree, and less to those on which they differ, we cannot but think that the difficulties which environ the question would be materially diminished. All are agreed that a better secular education is wanted for the people; why, then, cannot that be given in common? All are agreed that to this improved secular education should be superadded a religious one; and no sect will of course concede the right of superintending the religious instruction of its members to another. What more simple, than that every child should be registered, on its first entrance into the school, as belonging to the denomination to which its parents or guardians attach themselves, and should receive its religious instruction from the clergyman or minister of that denomination? We have to choose between some such system as this, or a strictly denominational system, which, besides objections of another kind, will never, we fear, reach all the exigencies of the case. Who is to educate that numerous class who connect themselves with no religious denomination? Whence are to come the funds for reclaiming the mass of ignorance which weighs down the population of our large towns? We willingly acknowledge, that were education universally diffused amidst society, the blessing would be felt to be so immense, as to leave little or no difficulty in maintaining it. Every sacrifice would be unreluctantly and cheerfully made for that purpose, and the people would even find within themselves all the necessary resources. But, at present, it is not felt to be a blessing, and what is to be done to make it felt to be so? Let every thoughtful person put the question to himself, and try to answer it. We are sure that it is one of deep import,-one which, in whatever light it is viewed, whether as it affects the happiness of his fellow-men, or his own individual interests, or the greatest good of the commonwealth, equally deserves, and ought to receive, his anxious consideration.

SUPERSTITION ATTACHED TO NUMBERS.

THE superstition which from the earliest ages has attached to certain numbers, has had its origin in their occurrence in the changes of nature and in the periodicity of some of the phenomena of life. Seven is the number of the planets according to the ancient notion, which included the Sun and Moon; twelve, the changes of the Moon in a year; thirty, the approximate number of days in a lunation. To all these numbers, and others produced by their combination, a mysterious virtue has evidently been attached. They have been adopted in preference to others, where division may seem arbitrary; they recur in mythology and mythic history.-Rev. John Kenrick's Essay on Primæval History, pp. 155, 156.

LETTERS FROM AN ENGLISH PRESBYTERIAN MINISTER AT ROME, TO A FRIEND IN ENGLAND. No. XIV.

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MY DEAR Rome, May 28, 1845. IT has been often contended in favour of State Churches, that they subdue, if not suppress, that wild fanaticism which is at the same time supposed to be the offspring of sectarianism. I have always thought that the existence or non-existence of such fanaticism had very little relation to a State Church, but depended rather on the mental condition of a people. The question then resolves itself into this — whether State Churches are favourable to the intellectual development of a people-a fact I am very far from asserting of the oldest established Christian Church, as one witnesses its operation in Italy; and which I take for granted you will not assert of Holy Mother Church in England. Of the correctness of my opinion I had not long since a remarkable confirmation; and as it made an impression on my mind which I am sure will never be effaced, you will perhaps pardon me if I give you the circumstances in detail. It was during the winter of 184, that I found myself en voyage in a small country village in the south of Italy, picturesque beyond all description in its appearance, lovely in its situation, and, as usual in this divine land, remarkable alike for its dirty, ruinous condition; for, whether it be from the want of capital, or from the "lascia fare" system, every thing, from the façade of a Genoese church to a Calabrian village, is unfinished. In short, it was just the site that Romance or Superstition might select for action; and my imagination had already begun to weave some wonders in connection with it, when the reality presented itself. We had just satisfied those craving, ever-recurring wants which remind us beyond every other thing of our infirmity, and the satisfaction of which constitutes perhaps one of the greatest pleasures of human life, when we proposed to lionize the village;-no very difficult task where a hop, skip and a jump were sufficient to cross the gran piazza. Instead of lionizing, however, we found that we were being lionized; for in these out-of-the-way places where there is but little communication with the great world, the arrival of a foreigner, and that foreigner an Inglese, is an event which quite disturbs the equanimity of the piazza, furnishes matter for sage conjecture to the coteries in the Caffe Nobile or the bottega of the Pharmacista, and, but for the want of journals, might be gazetted the next morning, Without any pretensions, then, to the distinction, we found that we were great lions-highly flattering to our vanity, of course! After we had explored and been explored, we began to return to our locanda, taking another path, which led by the parish church. Now I can never pass a church-door without entering. Whether it be, in general terms, that I have an Englishman's tastes for churches and churchyards, or that I associate with the house of God the most important events and the calmest and holiest moments of life, or whether it be that it carries me in imagination into the presence of that mysterious Existence who pervades all space-whatever it be, the solemnity of the long-drawn aisle, or the beauty of the Grecian capital, and the pealing of the organ, and the sweet-smelling incense, never fail to attract me, and to produce a train of pleasurable emotions. On the evening in question, to the usual inducements was added curi

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osity; for it was the commencement of the season of the missions which take place once in every two or three years, at the option of the Bishop of the diocese, and according to the supposed moral necessities of the place, the object of them being not so much to enforce any given doctrines, as to awaken the people from that kind of moral siesta in which they are too apt to indulge. Those who are usually selected for the duties of the missions are friars of the Franciscan order,-men, from their rule and habits and descent, well acquainted with the modes of thought and feeling peculiar to the people, and better calculated than any others, therefore, to influence them. Their arrival in a country town is the sure precursor of a great change. From morning till night there are masses or sermons or confessions; the social aspect of the little community is completely altered. No longer will you see the peasantry dancing the Tarantella in the country, nor hear the merry laugh in the piazza; an universal gloom seems to have settled upon the people, who now refuse all diversions as suddenly and violently as they will again plunge into them when the voice of the charmer has ceased to charm. On entering the church, it was certainly a remarkable scene I witnessed. A Franciscan friar, one of a relay of twelve who had been sent for the occasion, was holding forth in terms less polished than strong; for amongst the epithets he applied to his audience I remember was, ye devils in the flesh;" and amongst the threatened punishments were hell-fire and flames, epithets and threats which very naturally alarmed the poor people, and produced a degree of consternation which it was terrible to witness. Beside the friar was an image of the Madonna, and in his hand he carried a crucifix, which might better have furnished matter for compassion, long-suffering and gentleness, but which, on the contrary, seemed only to lend greater energy to the denunciations which were launched forth. As the duties of the mission were to be resumed on the morrow and continued for several days, I felt curious to see and hear the conclusion of the whole matter, and determined to attend. The only variety, however, on the occasion was, that at the conclusion of the sermon the friar produced an iron chain, and, as a kind of voluntary sacrifice, I take it, for the sins of the people, began to beat himself most unmercifully. No doubt but that it was with the same idea that, on the following evening, the whole company of friars, with their heads crowned with thorns and preceded by the Cross, advanced to the high altar, and there flagellated themselves, the entire congregation, amounting to nearly two thousand souls, accompanying this sacrifice with most fearful shrieks. The excitement seemed to increase day by day (the performance being got up by the most finished actors); for on the following evening, at the conclusion of the sermon, the vast multitude, in the midst of whom I stood, sank at a word upon their knees, and, each producing a rope, began to scourge themselves most vigorously. Imagine the scene, if you can; for I can give you no adequate description of it. A dimly-lighted church, rendered still more obscure by the clouds of dust which arose on every hand—a host of fanatics on their knees, groaning, shrieking, praying, crossing and scourging-such was the position in which I most unexpectedly and suddenly found myself, and from which I could not extricate myself very easily; so that I was obliged to remain exposed to all such blows

as fate or devotion showered down upon me, and sometimes not a little anxious as to the extremes to which fanaticism might drive the faithful. The evening passed, however, without any farther ill consequence; and the next morning again found me in the church. On entering, I found three of the friars in different parts haranguing as many separate congregations, until at length they were interrupted by a procession of the unmarried youth of the country (the women being clothed in white), all wearing crowns of thorns on their heads. As they moved slowly on, they chanted some office of the Church in the minor key, the organ lending its accompaniment, until, having arrived at the high altar, they knelt and received the " Santissima," and then retired in the same order. The coup d'œil was exquisite; the costumes, beauty and youth of the devotees, gave them an interest which I can ill describe. But what a crowd of conflicting reflections did this scene awaken within me! Every thing was here combined which art and nature could lend to affect the imagination; but, on the other hand, it was melancholy to think that these, the hope of the present and future generation, were thus bound over to the perpetuation of such gross fanaticism as I had for several days been witnessing. Nor was the scene without its influence upon those who were more accustomed than myself to such exhibitions, the whole congregation being on their knees, and the majority excited to tears; and, to tell the truth, there was something so affecting in the general aspect of the scene, that had I been of the same persuasion, and a parent or a brother, I should have sympathized most deeply with them. In the evening, as usual, three friars preached in succession with fearful effect, though at this distance of time I cannot recal the subject; and at the conclusion, the last preacher called upon the resident clergy to scourge themselves. Immediately, the whole chapter (for, though small, this place was the head of a diocese) proceeded, with an aged man of eighty at their head, to the high altar, and there scourged themselves with ropes— strange mixture of humility and pride!—as if this degrading act could be regarded by the Deity as an atonement for the sins of the people, or as if it could be of any effect in moving the counsels of the Eternal, Unchangeable God! We did not leave the church, however, this evening with otherwise than pleasurable feelings; for one of the most beautiful acts I have ever witnessed (though not suited, perhaps, to the genius of the English or the state of English society), I now saw performed. One of the friars, taking a Cross in his hand, planted himself on the high altar, and, after making one or two remarks on the great duty of loving one another, called upon all who were at enmity with one another to embrace beneath the Cross of Jesus Christ and seek a mutual reconciliation. The effect of such an exhortation was magical. First came one tottering under the weight of years and placed himself beneath that sacred standard-and then another, his bitter enemy. It seemed as if on the confines of the grave they wished to give and receive that pardon from one another they would shortly stand in need of from their Maker. Thus, from different parts of the church, were seen every now and then individuals advancing and embracing under the Cross. It was a happy village that night; for pride had kept many apart, whom strong, though secret, love would have readily united; and it was a blessed religion, the spirit of which,