What the ingenious writer of this preface is strongly inclined to think with regard to inflected words, and in the case of young children, we feel confident with regard to all simple grammatical rules, and people of all ages. It is, in short, easier to understand any rule when it is framed, than to frame it from our own observation;-a principle so simple and universal in its application, not merely to grammar, but to all branches of science, that if we did not know the effect of juggling and bold assertions, we should think the man crazy who seemed to doubt it. It is certainly necessary that, in order to fix a rule in the memory, and to ensure the understanding of it, the pupil should be exercised in the application of it; and it is better that the correct application should be made the test of the pupil's remembrance, rather than the repetition of its words. We must not suppose, because Queen Elizabeth never took a grammar in hand, after learning the accidence, that having, as she had, a careful tutor, the rules of Syntax were not carefully pointed out to her attention, and impressed on her memory.

When the comparative facility of different modes of acquiring the knowledge of the parts of speech is spoken of as "a question of fact and experience," it is necessary to say a word or two of the experiments on which the advocates of the Hamiltonian in part rest its pretensions. It is not fair to compare the weeks or months spent in a grammar-school, with the weeks or months spent by a boy under an experiment on the Hamiltonian System. In a grammar-school, scarcely an hour in the day is spent by each boy in learning, or in being taught, and that hour is not spent well. The greater part of the time is spent in mere mischief or idleness; in cutting desks, skinning books, dog's-earing leaves, drawing profiles, dreaming of tops, speculating on marbles, whispering, scribbling. No task is set which the dullest boy of a class cannot overcome with moderate diligence, during a moderate portion of his time. He is not taught, but ordered to learnas Hamilton observes, and it is the best observation he has ever made. This does not arise so much from the defect of the system, as from the insufficient number and idleness of the teachers; the number being insufficient, as compared with the pupils, to admit of the utmost efficiency in teaching, and forming an excuse for not aiming at that degree of efficiency which it might admit of. When two lazy parsons, as sometimes happens, undertake to teach eighty or a hundred boys, how is it possible that the time of the lads can be employed to the best advantage. To lead them by hand up the thorny path of knowledge seems impossible; they are urged like a drove of pigs, by a cart-whip, some bolting aside into the ditches-some scrambling back between the driver's legs-some before, others behind, all irregular, but all slow; while the divine swineherd revenges himself for his tardy progress, by laming and ham-stringing the most refractory. On the other hand, if a Hamiltonian teacher (supposing him to understand any thing he professes to teach) makes an experiment on a half-dozen boys, perhaps chosen for the quickness of their talent, he can make sure that the whole of their time is really employed in learning; and as in six months they will really have spent as many minutes and hours in that labour as in a grammar-school in three or four years, he may astonish all beholders at their progress, and throw the world

into ecstacies at the wonderful effect of beginning at the end. A pedestrian, some time ago, walked backward for a number of days, and covered, in the time, a much greater quantity of ground not only than many gouty gentlemen who followed their noses, but than some sturdy persons who sat at home; the "enlightened advocates" of retrogression will, on that account, contend, that it is the most rapid mode of locomotion-but if the fellow had gone forward with the same perseverance, he would have accomplished a still greater number of miles.

We may sum up the good points in Hamilton's practice and observations. First-It is much better to be taught than to be flogged for not learning. Second-It is good in most cases not to have the trouble of hunting words in a dictionary. (A proposition which follows naturally from the preceding one.) Third-It is interesting to fancy you make some progress in a language by translating, before you have a very accurate knowledge of grammar. Fourth-It is better to fix rules in the mind, by the practice of applying them, than by committing them verbally to memory. No one of these points is new.

The novelties are the following: First-Attempt to get a number of words by rote, before you know any thing of grammar; that is, obstinately reject the aid of general rules. Second-Endeavour to collect all the inflexions of words, by observation, and that in a book where only a few of them are to be found. Neither of these novelties is good.

Perfectly literal translations may have some novelty and utility, for the purposes of self-instruction; though, inasmuch as they form part of the plan for preventing the pupil from learning systematically, and from a grammar, the articles, auxiliaries, and other short words of frequent recurrence, they are delusive and troublesome. At any rate, they are very inferior to the double translation, after the manner of the edition of Charles XII. the preface of which we have referred to.

The ordinary mode of teaching Latin is certainly susceptible of improvement; but of the advantages which it possesses for the instruction of children, the advocates of the Hamiltonian plan seem to have no conception. Of the system of instruction by which a language is acquired, not by rote or imitation, but by the application of general rules, and by research founded on those rules, the smallest benefit in the case of children, is the acquisition of the language itself. The habits of exercising the reason, and of rendering the stores of memory available, which children acquire by being well grounded in grammar, are of much greater advantage than the smattering of one or two languages. A boy in a frontier town may pick up the jargons of two or three nations, by talking and hearing-a Negro who is kidnapped on the coast of Africa, learns the language of his kidnappers on the Hamiltonian system, without dictionary or grammar: but these linguists will be in a state of mental culture very different from youths who have received grammatical instruction. The latter may not know more" the facts of language" may not be more familiar to them; but they have acquired greater powers of learning; they have better trained and exercised minds.-This is what is wanted for the purposes of civil life.

SHAKSPEARE MEETING AT THE GARRICK'S HEAD,
BOW STREET.

THERE are few under the age of twenty-four, who have not felt the indescribable charm, the irresistible fascination produced by any thing approaching to the smell of the lamps, I mean any thing connected with theatrical matters; it is not therefore to be wondered at, that I, somewhat under the prescribed age, and insanely devoted to theatricals, should, on my reappearance in London, after some years absence, have my attention much excited by an advertisement which set forth that a second Shakspeare meeting would take place at the Garrick's Head, Bow-street, on such a day, when a gentleman of theatrical celebrity would take the chair; dinner on table at half-past five for six; tickets, including a bottle of wine, 15s. In the country I had always interested myself greatly about the London stage, and I knew by name almost every actor at either of the theatres. I only longed for an opportunity of changing my nominal acquaintance with them into a personal one, and here, thought I, was an unlooked for, heaven born opportunity, which seemed made for me. A Shakspeare meeting at the Garrick's Head-those two great names coupled together, gave me an exalted idea of the nature of this theatrical entertainment, the company I should meet with, the conversation I should listen to, and the information I should gain concerning much dramatic literature of former days; seasoned with the wit, anecdote, and green-room gossip of the present time, which the company of the celebrated theatrical chairman and his friends promised to ensure.

Highly elated with my good fortune in happening to fall in with such a dramatic literary treat during my visit to London, I immediately proceeded to the tavern with the inviting name, to make inquiries, and ensure my ticket. The waiter received me and my money with great satisfaction and civility-showed me a long spacious room where we were to dine, and was profuse in his assurances of the delightful evening I should pass among the many theatrical gentlemen who would attend the dinner. Upon my asking him to particularize a few, he ran over several names, which were not quite familiar to my ear, and which I could not exactly catch, from his rapid manner of pronouncing them; however, those of Young and Mathews I distinctly heard, which was quite enough for me, as it sufficiently proved the high respectability of the party, knowing, as I did full well, there are not two men in the profession who rank higher in the better circles of society than those gentlemen. The waiter and I parted with low bows on one side, and high anticipations on the other.

The next day being that of the dinner, I entered the house a few minutes after six, and in the dining room I found about fifty persons already sat down, busily, it struck me, rather voraciously engaged with the dishes before them: these seemed good enough of their kind, though not very elegant, plenty of boiled beef, stewed beef steaks, boiled pork, harricoed mutton, some large roast fowls, ditto boiled, &c.; with numerous side dishes of mashed potatoes, enormous carrots, the vegetable called cabbage, pickled walnuts, peas pudding,

and parsley and butter. This might have passed with me, but to my great amazement, and no small mortification, the company did not seem as good as the dinner, though quite as elegant. I easily got a place about the centre of the table, and looked about me with some very disagreeable misgivings. The people around me were dressed well enough, as far as clothes went. Blue surtout coats were, I think, most prevalent, interspersed with bottle green jackets and white buttons, neckcloths invariably black or coloured; I was the only white neckcloth among them, and I felt a little annoyed at being also the only one of the party who was duped. The looks, style, air, bearing, and conversation of the company was not certainly of the first class, and did not give me, in the least, the idea of first-rate London actors. Could the aristocratic Mr. Young and the gentlemanlike Mr. Mathews be of the party, as the waiter informed me they surely would? I looked round the room in vain, for faces which I could fancy theirs, and then applied myself in silence to my portion of boiled pork, and awaited patiently the conclusion of dinner, and the removal of the cloth, which I knew at public dinners was generally attended with the removal also of a great deal of restraint; while the lesser trouble of drinking gives opportunity for more sociality than the more serious and solemn task of eating allows.

As it was, little passed between me and my neighbours, except some well meant attentions on their part, and in their phraseology, such as "shall I assist you to some turnip, sir?" "Allow me to pass you the salt;" and when I offered one of them the cheese plate, he thanked me, and said, "Allow me, sir, to retaliate with the celery." I must not forget to mention here what appeared to the company, by their boisterous and continued laughter, a pun or joke of the first order. I had taken the last piece of celery in the plate, which the chairman perceiving, called out to the landlord of the house, who was in the room, "We want some more celery, Mr. Harris," upon which the wag of the company (such I found him to be afterwards) cried out in a loud voice," Yes, Mr. Chairman, there are a pretty many of us gentlemen who would be glad of an increase of salary." The laughter which followed this, as I said, was excessive, and continued till the cloth was taken off, when the usual royal toasts were given and drank. The chairman, whom I now recognized to be the same man I had seen a few evenings before at Covent Garden, acting, or rather singing, the part of the game-keeper, in a Roland for an Oliver, Isaacs by name, now rapped the table for silence-1 had seen him evidently chewing the cud of a concocted speech some minutes before, and he thus delivered himself of it: "Ladies and gentlemen-I mean gentlemen-when I look around and behold the many highly respectable members of a highly respectable profession, who have honoured this meeting with their presence, (I looked round too, but the chairman, I suppose, had better eyes than mine,) and when I look round and behold the numerous assemblage of gentlemen of every honourable profession, gentlemen of the first rank and respectability, who grace by their presence this convivial board, (I looked round again, and the only object my eyes rested on was a large pier glass,) I cannot but feel the greatest pleasure and satisfaction, as an actor,

as a gentleman, and as a man of conviviality! (Hear, hear.) Gentlemen, as your chairman to-night, however unworthy I may be to take that office upon me, but as your chairman to-night, I pledge myself to do every thing which lies in my power to promote the harmony and conviviality of the meeting-(oh, those cant words "harmony and conviviality," they are uttered nineteen times of an evening by every chairman and speech maker at every public dinner for any kind of purpose.)-Gentlemen, continued the chairman, you come here with the expectation of hearing some good singing, (I never expected or wished for singing at all,) and you shall not be disappointed, gentlemen, for I see several singing faces about me, and I have several promises from kind friends which will keep us in uninterrupted harmony for these several hours. (Devil seize it, thought I, is there to be no talking then? Surely I might hear better singing than this for less than 15s. to say nothing of dinner and company more to my liking.) Gentlemen, it is beginning rather early, but my friend, Mr. Gibbon, is obliged to attend his professional duties at the theatre almost immediately; however, before he goes, he is willing to oblige the company with a song." * This address was received with "unbounded applause," as the playbills call it, throughout; but when the speaker came to mention this Mr. Gibbon, I thought the din would never cease. The table was thumped, the glasses danced, the wine was spilled, (no great loss,) and in the midst of deafening bravos uprose Mr. Gibbon, a gentleman of a singularly self-sufficient deportment, hard featured, and of a plebeian cast of countenance-Gibbon, Gibbon, Gibbon, I repeated to myself, this must surely be some famous singer, by the tremendous importance the people here attach to his singing, and he is going to perform to-night. I pulled out the little penny Theatrical Observer from my pocket, and began conning over the names of the different performers at both houses, but no Gibbon could I find, and was just returning the paper to my pocket, when my eyes fell on the sought-for name-it was in a line with many others at the bottom of the list of principal characters, and I read, "monks, peasants, alguazils, &c. Messrs. Tims, Simmons, Allgut, Gibbon, Potter, &c. The specimen of singing which this gentleman gave us, would not, I think, have induced the manager, had he been present, to have promoted him on any future occasion from the horizontal line which he now occupied to the more honourable and perpendicular one of favourite performers. The man had not a bad voice, but execrable taste, and appeared extremely proud of his falsetto; his song was about "crossing the foaming sea, and kissing a tear from his Nancy, a loyal bold tar, and a true hearted maid, braving the cannon's roar, and heaving a sigh for his lass, &c." and was given with all the alternation of a good bass voice, and high falsetto, which the change from "foaming sea" to "kissing a tear," "bold tar, and true hearted maid," " cannons roar, and heaving a sigh," seemed to him to require.

* I suppose this was done in humble imitation of what took place at the Drury Lane Theatrical Fund dinner, where the chairman called upon Mr. Braham for a song, very soon after the cloth was removed, as Mr. Braham had an engagement elsewhere, "Sic magnis componere parva solebam."