refinemeut-there is a sort of negative opposition made by the titled aristocrats to that order, from which it must be allowed the majority have sprung themselves. Descended, for the most part, from the unpedigreed rich, they affect to preserve from that class, circles exclusive and impassible. Fashion to their heaven is like the lotus to Mahomet's; it is at once the ornament and the barrier. To the opulent, who command power, they pretend, while worshipping opulence, to deny ton; a generation passes, and the proscribed class have become the exclusive. This mock contest, in which riches ultimately triumph, encourages the rich to a field in which they are ridiculous till they conquer; and makes the one race servile, that the race succeeding may earn the privilege to be insolent. If the merchant or the banker has the sense to prefer the station in which he is respectable, to attempting success in one that destroys his real eminence, while it apes a shadowy distinction, his wife, bis daughters, his son in the guards, are not often so wise. If one class of the great remain aloof, another class are sought, partly to defy, and partly to decoy-and ruinous entertainments are given, not for the sake of pleasure, but with a prospective yearning to the columns of the Morning Post. They do not relieve dulness, but they render it pompous and instead of suffering wealth to be the commander of enjoyment, they render it the slave to a vanity, that, of all the species of that unqniet passion, is the most susceptible to pain, Circles there are in London, in which to be admitted is to be pleased and to admire; but those circles are composed of persons above the fashion; or aloof from it. Of those where that tawdry deity presides, would it be extravagant to say that existence is a course of strife, subserviency, hypocrisy, meanness, ingratitude, insolence, and mortification; and that to judge of the motives which urge to such a life, we have only to imagine the wish to be everywhere in the pursuit of nothings?

Fashion in this country is also distinguished from her sister in France, by our want of social enthusiasm for genius. It showed, not the power of appreciating his talents, but a capacity for admiring the more exalted order of talents, (which we will take leave to say is far from a ridiculous trait in national character), that the silent and inelegant Hume was yet in high request in the brilliant coteries of Paris. In England, the enthusiasm is for distinction of a more sounding kind. Were a great author to arrive in London, he might certainly be neglected; but a petty prince could not

fail of being eagerly courted. A man of that species of genius which amuses—not exalts-might indeed create a momentary sensation. The oracle of science-the discoverer of truth, might be occasionally asked to the soirées of some noble Mæcenas; but every drawing-room, for one season at least, would be thrown open to the new actress, or the imported musician. Such is the natural order of things in our wealthy aristocracy, among whom there can be as little sympatliy with those who instruct, as there must be gratitude to those who entertain, till the entertainment has become the prey of satiety, and the hobbyhorse of the new season replaces the rattle of the last.

Here, we cannot but feel the necessity of subjecting our gallantry to our reason, and inquiring how far the indifference to what is great, and the passion for what is frivolous, may be occasioned by the present tone of that influence which women necessarily exercise in this country, as in all modern civilized communities. Whoever is disposed to give accurate attention to the constitution of fashion, (which fashion in the higher classes is, in other words, the spirit of society), must at once perceive how largely that fashion is formed, and how absolutely it is governed, by the gentler sex. Our fashion may indeed be considered the aggregate of the opinions of our women. In order to account for the tone that fashion receives, we have but to inquire into the education bestowed upon women. Have we, then, instilled into them those public principles, (as well as private accomplishments), which are calculated to ennoble opinion, and to furnish their own peculiar inducements of reward to a solid and lofty merit in the opposite sex? Our women are divided into two classes the domestic and the dissipated. The latter employ their lives in the pettiest intrigues, or at best, in a round of vanities that usurp the name of amusements. Women of the highest rank alone take much immediate share in politics; and that share, it must be confessed, brings any thing but advantage to the state. No one will assert that these soft aspirants have any ardour for the public-any sympathy with measures that are pure and unselfish. No one will deny that they are the first to laugh at principles, which it is but just to say, the education we have given them precludes them from comprehending-and to excite the parental emotions of the husband, by reminding him that the advancement of his sons requires interest with the minister. The domestic class of women are not now, we suspect, so numerous as they have been esteemed by speculators on our national character. We grant

as a science in France, has scarcely exercised over the tone of feeling in that country as repressing an influence as it has among ourselves. It never destroyed in the French the love of theatrical effect; and even in the prevalence of those heartless manners formed under the old régime, it never deterred them from avowing romantic feeling, if uttered in courtly language. Nay, it was never quite out of fashion to affect a gallant sentiment, or a generous emotion; and the lofty verse of Corneille was echoed with enthusiasm by the courtiers of a Bourbon, and the friends of a Pompadour. But here, a certain measured and cold demeanour has been too often coupled with the disposition to sueer not only at expressions that are exaggerated, but at sentiments that are noble. Profligacy in action surprises, shocks, less than the profession of exalted motives, uttered in conversation, when, as a witty orator observed, “ the reporters are shut out, and there is no occasion * to humbug." We confesss that we think it a bad sign when lofty notions are readily condemned as bombast, and when a nation not much addicted to levity, or even liveIness, is, above all others, inclined to ridicule the bias to magnify and exalt. A shoeblack of twelve years old, plying his trade by the Champs Elysées, was struck by a shoeblack four years younger, He was about to return the blow-an old fruitwoman arrested his arm, exclaiming "Have you then no greatness of soul!" Nothing could be more bombastic than the reproof. Granted. But who shall say how far such bombast influenced the magnanimity of the labouring classes in that late event, which was no less a revolution in France, than the triumph of the human species? Exaggeration of sentiment can rarely, as a national trait, be dangerous. With men of sense it unavoidably settles into greatness of mind; but moral debasement,—a sneer for what is high, a disbelief of what is good, is the very worst symptom a people can display.

We cannot quit our subject without glancing at what we consider an improve ment in the condition of society, though it has lately beeu the subject of vulgar complaint, we allude to the alleged decline of country hospitality, at a time when that "first consin to a virtue" seems more deserving of commendation than at any other period.

In what did the hospitality of the last century consist? An interchange of dinner visits between country neighbours, a journey some half a dozen miles over wretched roads, and a return home some eight hours afterwards, with the footman drunk, the coachman more drunk, and the

master most drunk. Hospitality, in a word, was, a profusion of port-wine; and the host welcomed his friends by ruining their constitutions. Honses, much less conveniently arranged than at present, were not often capab e of affording accommodation, for days together, to visitors from a distance. Few, comparatively speaking, were the guests who found their way from the metropolis to these rustic receptacles of Silenus: and the strangers were then stared at for their novelty, or ridiculed for their refinement-oracles to the silly, and butts to the brutal. What an improvement in the present tone of country hospitality! Instead of solemin celebrations of inebriety-instead of joiting at one hour through the vilest of lanes, to return at another from the most senseless of revels, improved roads facilitate the visits of neighbours, improved houses accommodate a greater number of guests," and an improved hospitality gives to both a welcome reception, without endangering their health or making war on their reason. The visitors are more numerous; the victims less. To give a dinner, or to receive a gentleman from Loudon, are not the events in a squire's life that they were in the last century. At stated periods of the year the house is filled with persons who can be cultivated as well as manly; and improvements in opinions are thus circu lated throughout the country, as well as improvements in gun-locks.

ANECDOTES OF DR. BARROW.

THE powerful mind and vast acquirements of Dr. Isaac Barrow, acquired him the reputation of an admirable preacher;' though Dr. Pope relates some curious scenes which occurred, as well by reason of his strange attire and attenuated aspect, (for he was not only worn down by study, but slovenly in his dress,) as by the detention of his congregation, and his discourses of an unconscionable length. In one instance, when he preached for Dr. Wilkins at St. Lawrence-Jewry, so uncouth and unpromising was his appearance, that the congregation scampered out of church before he could begin his sermon: the good doctor, however, taking no notice of this disturbance, proceeded, named his text, and preached away to the two or three that were gathered, or rather left together; of which number it happened that Mr. Baxter, the eminent non-conformist, was one, who afterwards declared to Dr. Wilkins that he never listened to a

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better discourse: amongst those also that remained was a young man who appeared like an apprentice, or the foreman of a shop, and who pleased Barrow greatly by accosting him with these words of encouragement as he came down from the pulpit: Sir, be not dismayed, for I assure you 'twas a good sermon. When several parishioners came to expostulate with Dr. Wilkins on his suffering such an ignorant scandalous person to have the use of his pulpit, he referred them to Mr. Baxter, who candidly praised the sermon as it deserved, declaring that he could willingly have been an auditor all the day long. Confounded and put to shame by this judgment from a person whom they acknowledged as their superior, they soon confessed that they had not heard a word of the discourse which they thus abused, and begau eatnestly to entreat their rector that he would procure Dr. Barrow's services again, promising to make him amends by bringing their whole families to his sermon. persons, however, had not the patience of the worthy non-conformist, as was evident when Barrow was preaching on a certain holyday at Westminster Abbey: for the servants of that church, who were then accustomed to shew the waxen effigies of the kings and queens, between services on holydays, to crowds of the lower orders, perceiving the doctor in the pulpit long after the hour was past, and fearing to lose that time in hearing which they thought could be so much more profitably employ ed in receiving, became so impatient, that they caused the organ to be struck up against him, and would not cease till they had blown him down. Can Dr. Pope, however, be credited, when he assures us that his spittle-sermon before the lord mayor and aldermen occupied three hours and a half? One is almost tempted to suppose that the customary invitation to dinner had been forgotten, and that the preacher took this ingenious method of revenging himself for the neglect. Being asked on that occasion, when he came down from the pulpit, whether he was not tired, his reply is said to have been-" Yes, indeed, I began to be weary with standing so long."—Valpy's Divines of the Church of England.

THE SOVEREIGN REMEDY.
ALAS! how in the world we're made for,
Sins conquered, really are sins paid for!
We break a head, inspired by wine,
What plasters up the wound-a fine;
We steal a wife-we foul a name-

What meuds the matter?-still the same?
In notes her sentence law dispenses,
And justice only means expenses.

AND THE REBUILDING ST. PAUL'S

SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN

CATHEDRAL.†

SIR Christopher Wren in the year 1663, received a commission under the great seal to inspect and restore the cathedral of St. Paul's. The difficulties he had to struggle with in this gigantic undertaking, from the narrow-minded opposition of his brother commissioners, Who preferred patching to building, are pretty generally known. Indeed had not these bickerings been terminated by the destructive fire of 1066, which almost completely demolished the antique buildings, with the memorable recent improvements of Inigo Jones, it is extremely improbable that Sir Christopher would ever have had any opportunity of carrying his magnificent plans into effect. An order, however, was at last issued, on the 20th of July, 1668, by the king in council, to take down the rninous walls and to clear the ground to the foundation.

The

The removal of the ruins of St. Paul's forms an instructive chapter in architecture. The walls, eighty feet perpendicular, and five feet thick, and the tower at least two hundred feet high,though cracked and swayed, and tottering, stuck obstinately together, and their removal, stone by stone, was found tedious and dangerous. At first, men with picks and levers loosened the stones above, then canted them over, and labourers moved them away below, and piled them into heaps. want of room (for between the walls of the church and those of the houses there lay a street only some thirty feet wide) made this way slow and unsafe; several men lost their lives, and the piles of stone grew steep and large. "Thus, however, Wren proceeded," says his son, gaining every day more room, till he came to the middle tower, that bore the steeple, the remains of the tower being near two hundied feet high, the labourers were afraid to work above, thereupon he concluded to facilitate this work by the use of gunpowder. He dug a hole down by the side of the north-west pillar of the tower, the four pillars of which were each about fourteen feet diameter; when he had dug to the foundation, he then with crows and tools made on purpose, wrought a hole two feet square hard into the centre of the pillar; there he placed a little deal box containing eighteen pounds of powder and no more; a cane was fixed to the box with a quick match, as gunners call it,

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From the Family Library, Vol. XIX.-Lives of the most Eminent British Painters, Sculptors, and Architects.

within the cane, which reached from the box to the ground above, and along the grond was laid the train of powder with a match; after the mine was carefully closed up again with stone and mortar to the top of the ground, he then observed the effect of the blow. This little quantity of powder not only lifted up the whole angle of the tower, with two great arches which rested upon it, but also two adjoining arches of the aisles and all above them; and this it seemed to do somewhat lei. surely, cracking the walls to the top, lifting visibly the whole weight above nine inches, which suddenly jumping down made a great heap of ruins in the place without scattering; it was half a minute before the heap opened in two or three places and emitted some smoke. By this description may be observed the incredible force of powder; eighteen pounds of which lifted up three thousand tons, and saved the work of a thousand labourers. The fall of so great a weight from an height of two hundred feet, gave a concussion to the ground that the inhabitants around took for an earthquake. During Wren's absence, his superintendent made a larger hole, put in a greater charge of gunpowder, and, neglecting to fortity the mouth of the mine, applied the match. The explosion accomplished the object; but one stone was displaced with such violence, that it flew to the opposite side of the church-yard, smashed in a window where some women were sitting, and alarmed the whole neighbourhood so much, that they united in petitioning that no more powder should be used.

Wren yielded to their solicitations, and resolved to try the effect of that ancient and formidable engine the battering ram. "He took a strong mast," says his son, "of about forty feet long, arming the bigger end with a great spike of iron fortified with bars along the mast and ferrels; this mast in two pieces was hung up by one ring with strong tackle, and so suspended level to a triangle-prop, such as they weigh great guns with; thirty men, fifteen on a side, vibrated this machine to and again, and beat in one place against te wall the whole day; they believed it was to little purpose, not discerning any immediate effect; he bid them not despair, but proceed another day on the second day, the wall was perceived to tremble at the top, and in a few hours it fell.

It was not, however, until the year 1675 that the approved plan of the structure was returned to the hands of the patient arehitect with the long-expected authority to proceed with the cathedral.

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Wren had had the sagacity to make various designs, for there were many judges-he desired to show that he was alike prepared for all tastes, from the simple to the magnificent. The form of the classic temple, he imagined, suited the reformed worship best, being compact and simple, without long aisles, our religion not using processions like that of Rome;. he accordingly planned a church of moderate size, of good proportion: a convenient choir with a vestibule and porticos, and a dome conspicuous above the houses "This design," says his son, was applauded by persons of good understanding as containing all that was necessary for the church of the metropolis, of a beautiful figure, and of an expense that reasonably might have been compassed: but being contrived in the Roman style, was not so well understood and relished by others; some thought it not stately enough, and contended that, for the honour of the nation and city of London, it ought not to be exceeded in magnificence by any church in Europe." Much as this plan was approved, it was nevertheless one of those which he sketched "merely," as he said, "for discourse sake;" he had bestowed his study upon two designs, both of which he liked; though one of them he preferred, and justly, above the other. The ground plans of both were in the form of the cross; that which pleased Charles, the Duke of York, and the courtiers, retained the primitive figure with all its sharp advancing and receding angles: the oue after Wren's own heart substituted curves for these deep indentations, by which one unbroken and beautiful winding line was obtained for the exterior, while the interior accommodation which it afforded, and the elegance which it introduced, were such as must have struck everybeholder. But if we maycredit Spence, taste had no share in deciding the choice of the design. He says, on the authority of Harding, that the Duke of York and his party influenced all; the future king even then contemplated the revival of the popish service, and desired to have a cathedral with long side aisles for the sake of processions. This not only caused the rejection of Wren's favourite design, but materially affected the other, which was approved. The side oratories were proposed by the duke, and though this narrowed the building and broke much in upon the breadth and harmony of the interior elevation, and though it was resisted by Wren even to tears, all was in vain

the architect was obliged to comply. He made the proposed changes with a heavy heart and an unwilling hand-he