and bold enrichment.
The series of figures which stand upon the newels of the staircase are all engraved below. There are ten remaining out of twelve, the original number; the missing two are said to have been figures of Cromwell and Ireton, destroyed at the Restoration. They stand about a foot in height, and represent the different soldiers of the army, from the fifer and drummer to the captain, and originally, to the commanders. They are curious for more reasons than one; their locality, their truthfulness, their history, and the picture they help us to realise of the army of Cromwell are all so many claims on our attention.
A NOVELIST'S APPEAL FOR THE CANADAS
Among the new English novels is one entitled Ellen Clayton, or the Nomades of the West, by Douglass Huyghue. The author seems to feel for the red men the same regard which the adventurous artist and traveller Catlin has expressed in England, and his work comes in aid of those appeals which Catlin has so often made on their behalf. Such a motive entitles the author to respect, and gives an additional value to the book; while the talent with which it is written, renders it a narrative of unusual interest. In nothing but its theme is it like to any of Cooper's novels. Its incidents and its characters are not similar, and they lack truthfulness quite as much as they lack similarity. We know something of Indian life; in our youth we saw much of it; and we regard Cooper as its faithfulest delineator in literary art. The time at which this romance opens is in the year 1600, when the wars between France and England led to hostilities in Canada, and when an abortive attack was made upon Quebec by the British and colonial army. The hero and heroine are victims to the disasters of that war, and in describing their adventures, Canada, and the condition of its civilized as well as of its wild inhabitants, are vividly presented. The incidents justify the author in making this appeal to his English readers when he reminds them of the associations that should ever be connected with the fortress of Quebec:—
"Men of England, look not coldly upon the interests of that land for the possession of which your fathers fought and bled. Quench not irretrievably the flame of loyalty which burns in many an earnest heart, loath to contract these new ties which the progress of an irresistible destiny would seem to favor, at the sacrifice of affection for the fatherland. The blood of the greatest and wisest nation since the days of the Romans, flows in the veins of the Anglo-Americans, unadulterated by the air of another hemisphere, and stimulated into vigorous action by a necessity for continual exertion, combined with an entire liberty of thought which calls into play every resource of the physical and intellectual man. The sturdy and intelligent race that treads the virgin soil of Canada, can surely claim equality, at the very least, with the denizens of older Europe; cramped as they are for want of room, and enervated by an ultra-civilization that wrongs nature, and has almost taken the sceptre from her hand to put it into that of art. The British colonist enjoys a peculiar exemption from those prejudices, which, for so many ages, have retarded progress, and are successively being overcome by the convictions of a more enlightened era. There is a voice in the woods and mountains of a great solitude that elevates the soul and fortifies it with courage in the time of need. The great torrents and inland seas of that noble country have schooled the generation, nurtured by their side, into a strong conception of freedom, and the right to be justly dealt with, at the hands of those with whom it is connected by the double alliance of kindred predilection. A pernicious, temporizing policy has of late caused such wounds as may not be healed up very easily, we fear. The upright colonist has seen an unprincipled faction permitted to ride triumphant over those whose intentions are honest, and whose loyalty is proven. Let us hope, that ere long something of the chivalrous generosity of other days will pervade the councils of the state, and rouse the stalwart spirit of the Briton to scourge this ignominy from the land; if encouragement be due at all, it surely is to those true-hearted provincials who are avowedly proud of the great people from whence they derive their character, their language, and their laws—and who are as able, as they are willing, to preserve unto their beloved Sovereign the colony their sires won."
This is tolerably good rhetoric, but it is not likely to have much effect when the strong argument and imposing eloquence of statesmen have failed to arrest attention. We see notices of another political novel referring to Canada, which deals more directly, if with less talent, with the disabilities and wishes of the people. It is entitled, The Footsteps of Montcalm, and its hero, descended from a follower of the brave Frenchman, contrasts with his ideal of freedom and happiness, the laws, institutions, habits, and miseries, which he regards as inseparable from the colonial relation. As in the rebellion of 1838, whatever disaffection now prevails in British America, is probably shared much less largely by the English than by the French population. Political, religious, or sectarian novels, however, executed never so cleverly, are but sugared pills at which the appetite revolts as soon as the quality is discovered.
DR. WEBSTER, PRESIDENT OF THE NEW-YORK FREE ACADEMY
Throughout the world an extraordinary degree of attention has recently been directed to systems and means of Education, and the truth has at length been generally recognized that the stability and glory of nations must depend upon the intelligence and virtue of their inhabitants. In our own country, which is most of all interested in the diffusion of knowledge, unexampled efforts are being made not only for the general improvement of the culture offered in the seminaries, but for that elevation of the laboring classes which, whatever may be said by ambitious feeble-minds, seeking for reputation as reformers of the social system, is really to be found only in a wise development of individual capacities for the strife that has been and must be waged for individual well-being.
There have been many improvements suggested or realized lately in collegiate education. We have been gratified with Professor Sedgwick's admirable treatise on the subject, which, at this time, is receiving in England that consideration to which any thing from the mind of one so distinguished is entitled. In this country we think no one, upon the whole, has written more wisely than Dr. Wayland, whose views are to be illustrated in the future government of the university over which he has so long presided. But we shall not be satisfied until we have a great institution, as much above the existing colleges as they are above the common schools in the wards of the city, to which bachelors of arts only shall be admitted, and to which they, whether coming from Harvard, Oberlin, or Virginia, shall be admitted without charge.
The establishment of the New-York Free Academy is suggestive of many things, and of this among them. We suppose a discussion whether our colleges supply the degree of education suitable to our general condition, could be entertained only by dunces; the point whether they furnish the kind and quality of culture to fit men for efficient and just action, in such public affairs and private occupations as the humblest may be called to in a free state, has been amply discussed, and it is decided against the colleges.
Our schools, called colleges, have for the most part been fashioned after the universities of Europe, but they have in all cases been inadequately endowed, and without the internal police which is necessary to their vigorous administration. Nine-tenths of the professors are incompetent, and quite one half of them, in any thing worthy the name of university could claim admission only to the class of freshmen; while those who are capable of a reputable performance of their duties—so uncertain are the revenues of the institutions to which they are attached—are very frequently compelled to modify regulations and relax discipline to such a degree that the colleges become only schools of vice or nurseries of indolence.
The deficiency is of authority. It is useless to talk about courses of study, or any thing else, until the discipline of the schools is as absolute as that of the camp, the factory, or the counting-room. We are inclined to believe that the usefulness of the Military Academy at West Point,—which has furnished so large a proportion of the best civil engineers, lawyers, physicians, and divines, as well as the soldiers who and who alone have conducted our armies to real glory,—we are inclined to believe that this justly celebrated school owes all its triumphs to its rigid laws and independence of popular clamor.
Discipline is every thing. Without it a man is but a fair model in wood, which by it is turned
