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are delicate casuists, and we should like to see a treatise from some fair hand, on the in: ocence of a "front," the venality of a "tournure," and so on, through all the gradations of criminality, to rouge. In what part of the scale patching would come, we know not. Madame Schopenhauer says nothing of the attempts of the clergy of Danzig to repress this practice, though nothing could be more felonious than the animus it displayed.

"Another fashion found great acceptance with our fine ladies, so absurd that I should have doubted the possibility of its existence, did I not remember the long flat little mother-of-pearl box, with a looking-glass in the lid, which often served me as a plaything. This all ladies carried about them, that whenever a patch fell from its place, the void might instantly be filled. These little bits of so-called English plaster were cut in the forms of very small full and half moons, stars, hearts, &c., and were stuck on the face with a peculiar art, so as to heighten its charms and increase its expression. A row of moons from the very smallest gradually crescendo to larger, at the outer corner of the eyelid, was intended to add to the length and brilliancy of the eye. A few little stars at the corner of the mouth, gave a bewitching archness to the smile; one in the right place on the cheek, set off a dimple. There were larger patches in the form of suns, doves, cupids, &c., which were called assassins."

we now turn from with dizzy eyes. The
only merit of a dancer of the present day,
seems to be the power of spinning round
like a frantic Fakeer. We rather wonder
that some of the venerable chroniclers of
German manners have not moralized upon
it, as a symptom of the change which seems
to strike them more than any other-the
incessant demand for novelty and excite-
ment; and the no less constant weariness
and disappointment consequent upon it.
Things which were formerly events, are
which were formerly looked forward to for
now every-day occurrences, and pleasures
months with beating hearts, are now regard-
ed as childish, insipid, and tedious. And
if Germans find cause to complain of this
rapid and wearing action of all the wheels
of life, what shall we say of our vast and
tumultuous metropolis, compared to which
the capitals of Germany are quiet, homely,
and stationary? But as the distance be-
tween given points may be equal, though
the point of departure is different, we have
no doubt the change is quite as great in
Germany as in England. We remember to
have heard or read of nothing at home like
the absolute monotony in which, according
to Jacobs, childhood was passed in Gotha;
then, no doubt, a fair specimen of the small-
er cities of Germany. Such a state of ex-
istence would now be thought fit only for a
penal colony, or a bettering house.
If we
had not good evidence for it, we should be
unable to believe that children grew, pros-
pered, and were happy in a life so entirely
gray upon gray, (to use an excellent Ger
manism.) We forget what a glow and
brightness are diffused over all things by
the sunlight of youth; how the imagination
of childhood (if not blunted by excitement)
can give shape, color, life, meaning, to the
most ordinary objects, and find, not "ser-
mons," but romances and dramas, in stocks
and stones.

"Every thing," continues Madame Schopenhauer, "in domestic, as well as in social life, wore a different air from what it now wears, even the greatest joy of youth-dancing. One of the elegant dancers of the present day would hardly bear the tedious Vandalism of a ball of that age for an hour; and no doubt they will pity their grandmothers in their graves when they hear that no dancing soul among us dreamt of such a thing as waltz, gallopade, or cotillon. These dances are all of south German origin, and had not yet found their way to the shores of the Baltic and the Vistula. Our northern popular dances were the Polonaise and the Mazurka, and are so to this day. Then, as now, the ball opened with a Polonaise. But what a difference between that stately and graceful dance, and the lazy, slouching walk which has usurped in his Personalia, "was then very simple. My "The life of the middle classes," says Jacobs its name! To understand what I mean, it is necessary to see it danced by Poles. Our trains father's income was precarious, and we grew having been carefully fastened up by our moth-up under restraints which would appear melers, an Anglaise followed, then Mazurka, qua- But the amusements to which the children of ancholy and oppressive to children of our class. drilles, and lastly, minuets, till an abundant hot supper, which neither old nor young disdained, the present day are accustomed, were unknown was served. After this, dancing was resumed to those of a former; and they missed not with fresh vigor, and continued till morning

broke."

Madame Pichler, in her description of a Vienna Carnival ball in the last century, laments over the disappearance of the graceful and decorous Allemande, (as the slow waltz of that time was called all over Europe,) which has degenerated into the whirl

which keep asunder the members of a family, what they did not know. Spacious buildings, were rare, and those who had them, used them only on rare occasions. Parents and children were generally together in one room; the children worked and played under the eyes of their parents, and a great part of education consisted in this companionship. Filial obedience, the beginning and foundation of all domestic and civil virtues, was a matter of course, and parents

were the better for the constraint which the presence of their children imposed on their words and actions. The respect which they (with few exceptions) inspired, spared parents much admonition, teaching and preaching-the cheap but feeble substitute for practical education. So at least was it in our house. Company was hardly thought of; at the utmost, families assembled after afternoon service on Sundays; the women to discuss the sermon, the men to talk of business or news, or, if they had nothing to say, to play backgammon. Family festivals were rare. On New-Year's day and birthdays, relations wished each other joy; the boys generally in a Latin or German speech, got by heart. Presents were not thought of. Those for children were reserved for Christmas eve, when the tree, with its sweatmeats and angels and wax-lights, gave an appearance of festal splendor to things which were, in fact, mere necessaries. Bethlehem, with its manger and crib, was indispensable; and this sacred spot was surrounded with a blooming landscape, gardens, and ponds, which my father had for weeks employed his evening hours in decorating with his own hands. He thought his labor richly rewarded on the long expected evening, by our delight and admiration. The narrative of St. Luke, which it had not at that time occurred to any body to regard as a myth, was always read. The joyous recollection of this pious festival, caused me and my brothers to retain the same custom with our children."

Goethe's description, in the work before quoted, of his grandfather, is a charming picture of contented monotony in advanced life. Every day the same business was followed by the same simple pleasures, in exactly the same order. In such a life, disappointment was scarcely possible. His expectations were extremely moderate, and he knew exactly what he expected. "In his room," says Goethe, "I never saw a novelty. I recollect no form of existence that ever gave me to such a degree the feeling of unbroken calm and perpetuity." Yet this was in the busy and wealthy city of Frankfort, on the high-road of Europe. Even the tumult and luxury of the capital of the empire did not materially disturb the tranquil and regular habits of its citizens. Madame Pichler gives the following description and summary of the life of a Vi enna employé in her youth:

"Between sixty and seventy years ago, the income of a K. K. Hofrath, (an imperial Conseiller de Cour,) who generally had, besides his salary, official rooms, enabled him, with good management, to live in a respectable manner, keep an equipage, and still lay by something yearly. He and his wife thus lived in tranquil comfort, and in the enjoyment of competence; they settled themselves in the dwelling which cost them nothing, as handsomely as was consistent with an accurate calculation of their means, and in twenty or thirty years died in the

midst of the same furniture, pictures, etc., with which they had first adorned it. The effect of this unchangeable plan of life on the character and happiness, was incalculably different from that produced by the mobile, striving, allattempting, all-overturning existence of the present generation, both for good and for evil. And if we hear those times spoken of as perruque, and reproached, not unjustly, with routine, Phillisterei, etc., I must still think that the absence of the continual exciting movement which now prevails, favored the possibility of deep thought and steady feeling; the character, though more one-sided and narrow, had a depth and consistency which is now rare."

In all Madame Pichler's personages of the middle class, we find the contentment, with the uniform and inflexible recurrence of the same amusements, which characterizes children. Children in a natural state prefer an old book, a story which they have heard a hundred times, to any thing unaccustomed. The narrator who thinks to please them by various readings and new fioriture, finds himself completely mistaken. At the smallest departure from the authentic version, he is called to order, and brought back to the established form of the history, every deviation from which is disappointment. So it was with the amusements of our ancestors. Each holiday had its appropriate and obligé diversion, its peculiar dish or confection, its fixed form of salutation. To alter these was to invert the order of nature. Surprises were unwelcome. People liked to know exactly what was coming-what they had to see, to feel, to say, and even to eat.

We have already noticed the broad line of demarcation which formerly existed be tween the several classes of society. It was the object of the legislature of every country to perpetuate this; and one of the expedients most commonly resorted to, was the enactment of sumptuary laws. By no class of rulers were these more rigidly maintained than by the municipal aristocracies of free cities. Even in Madame Schopenhauer's youth they were still in full force.

"At the weddings of the wealthiest and most respectable artizans, an officer, whose especial business it was, invariably presented himself in full dress, with a sword by his side, to count the guests, and see that they did not exceed the prescribed number, and to ascertain that the

bride

wore no forbidden ornaments, such as real pearls. But the fear of being ridiculous in the eyes of their neighbors and equals had still more effect than the law. No woman of that class thought of wearing the hoops, the richlytrimmed trains, or the high head-dresses of the ladies."

We find the same remark in Madame

Pichler's description of the Vienna citizen of the same date.

vestiture (lehensbrief) required the claimant to drink out (vel quasi) the great feuda"The wealthy saddler, who was supposed to tory goblet, (lehensbescher), as a proof that be able to leave each of his three sons thirty he was a German nobleman and an ablethousand florins, lived in a few simply-furnished bodied warrior. In that principality, even rooms, surrounded by his family and journey-about fifty years ago, there were no glassmen, ate well, but without elegance, dressed the es holding less than half a schappen, (a same, and placed his pride in never affecting half bottle.) any thing above his station. For this reason records the feats of two sisters, who drank The Homburger chronicle he never allowed his wife to wear any dress worn by women of the higher ranks, no hoop, thirty-two schappens at a sitting, and then no open gown-that is, a gown with folds walked quietly to their home, half a league hanging from the shoulders and ending in a distant.' sort of train. These were peculiar to ladies. The citizens' wives wore those folds confined at the waist by a black silk apron, and ending at the feet. The worthy citizen's rigor was so great, that he once hacked to pieces a beautiful lace cap which his wife had made in secret, that she might see it was not the cost, but the pretension, of such luxury which he objected

to.

The Ecclesiastical Courts were distinguished for this jovialty. It was a canon of Mainz to whom the world was indebted for the admirable excuse, that "there was too much wine for the mass, and too little for the mills."

There is still a good deal of drunkenness among the lower classes in some parts of "So thought, so lived, the Vienna tradesmen Germany, although not nearly so much as sixty or seventy years ago. Their journeymen in England. Among the higher classes it ate with them at the same table; the discipline is very rare in both countries. The beerthough paternal, was strict, and often enforced on both children and workmen with the stick drinking of the students is not to be classor the strap. Rough words and coarse jokes ed with ordinary intemperance. It is part formed the scanty conversation at table. of a system, (the studenten wesen,) and "On Sunday, after the huge and indispensa-whatever their admirers at home or abroad ble roast was dispatched, the party separated to their several amusements. The master and mistress went to church to hear the benediction, which they received with great devotion, and then returned home. The Sunday clothes were now laid aside. The master went with a few neighbors to a grocer's shop, and there indulged rather freely in an Italian salad and foreign wine; while the wife regaled herself and her gossips with excellent coffee served in a massive silver pot. At eight or half past eight the master came home, somewhat more excited than usual, joked a little with one of his pretty neighbors, gave his wife a hearty smack to appease her rising jealousy, and ended the Sunday with the same homely simplicity as he began it."

In justice to the present age, upon which it may be thought we, as well as these gossips, are rather hard, we must express our surprise that none of them have said any thing about the astonishing decline of drunkenness in Germany. "Not a century ago," says Carl Julius Weber, "German sotting (saufen) was proverbial. Different towns and cities claimed precedence in it. To drink more palatino, was to get dead drunk. The collections of antiquarians are full of drinking cups, and horns not made to stand. Trink alle aus, was the motto of the Oldenburger Wunderhorn. The last Count of Gorz used to make his children drink at night, and, if they wanted to go to sleep, he grumbled at their degeneracy, and doubted if they were his own children. The Hohenlohe deed of inVOL. II. No. II. 11

may tell them, not the best part. It is difficult to understand the enjoyment of pouring down the throat gallons of beer, neither pleasant to the taste nor exhilarating to the spirits. But "sic Dii voluerunt ". so the Burschen have decreed. It begins by being a fashion, and ends by being a want; like its kindred abomination-smoking.

Madame Pichler, who, as we have remarked, is apt to insist on the degeneracy of the age, laments over the galloping speed at which Austria has joined in the mad race after novelty and change. This will surprise our readers, who are accustomed to regard Austria as the drag on the wheel of European life. We should have thought the easy contented character of the people, and the insurmountable barriers which surround the higher ranks, would have kept down all ambitious imitations and restless change.

In some respects we venture to think the revolution is not alarming. Madame Schopenhauer's description of the precautions of the police on the Austrian frontier, forty years ago, is wonderfully exact to this day. You are still detained half an hour, at the least, while the accomplished functionary is spelling out your passport; you are still asked your religious confession, the maiden name of your grandmother, and other particulars not less important to the interests and safety of the Austrian

empire; but all this is done with extreme surrounded with a cordon of Prussian cusquietness and civility, and if two zwanzi tom-houses, so near as to render it imposgers are accidentally found to have insinu-sible for the citizens to go backward and ated themselves within the folds of the forward to their country-houses, without passport, you hear nothing of searching. being exposed to the brutal insolence of We have always admired the simplicity functionaries whose whole office and existand directness with which Mr. Murray's ence was new and hateful to them. Ladies "hand-book" fixes the price of the virtue and children were forced to stand, in rain of a K. K. custom house officer. The wri and storm, while every corner of their carter evidently knew his men. The good riages were searched. Even their persons Austrians are the last people to take this were not respected, and the women of the amiss. Hypocrisy is not is not one of their lower classes were exposed to the grossest faults; for that you must seek further insults. The rage of the citizens, which a north. consciousness of their own impotence had heightened into almost frantic desperation, gradually subsided into profound and suppressed hate of Prussia, and every thing Prussian.

Should we enter on the chapter of changes in all that relates to travelling, we should never have done. England, in this respect, took the lead of all other countries, and for many years was immeasurably Such were the scenes in the midst of ahead. Her superiority is still very great; which Madame Schopenhauer grew up. but the demand and the money of her own We need not wonder that the spirited rewandering sons have forced the countries ply of a young Danziger to a Prussian through which they pass in swarms, into general, which won the hearts of all his some approach to her own condition. The fellow-citizens, made a deep impression Zollverein has put an end to half the vexa- upon hers. tions of travellers. Fifteen years ago, the custom-house officers of M. de Nassau and M. de Bade (as M. Victor Hugo, in his work on the Rhine, thinks fit to call them) were troublesome and inquisitive-exactly in an inverse ratio of the magnitude of their sovereign's territory. Now, having shown your passport on the frontiers of Prussia, where you rarely find either incivility or exaction, you may go from Aix-la-Chapelle to Bohemia without a question.

We have seen that among Madame Schopenhauer's earliest recollections, was the sudden blow given to the franchises and the commerce of her native city. Her whole youth was passed in witnessing its convulsive struggles and long agony; and when we read her description of the barbarous and destructive form under which monarchical power first presented itself to her, we cease to wonder, or even to smile, at her stiff-necked republicanism. It is impossible to see without indignation, a free, peaceful, industrious population, whose prosperity was their own work, and whose institutions were sanctified by time, handed over without appeal to the brutality of a foreign soldiery, and the blunders of ignorant and arbitrary legislation, without al lowing for all the prejudices of the suffer

ers.

Danzig stood conditionally under the protection of Poland, and its ruin was one of the many evils attendant on the partition of that kingdom. By a sort of irony, the city itself was not occupied, but it was

"A Prussian general was quartered in the country-house of one of the most eminent merchants of Danzig. He offered to the son of his host to permit the forage for his horses to enter the city duty free. 'I thank the General for his obliging offer, but my stables are for the present exhausted I shall order my horse to be shot,' well provided, and when my stock of forage is was the brief and decisive answer. It was soon known through the town, and the more admired, because the young man's passion for his beautiful horses was notorious. Nobody delighted in it more than I, though I knew my republican countryman only by sight."

It

This was Heinreich Floris Schopenhauer, to whom soon after, at the age of nineteen, she was united. Not long after, this patriotic citizen went to Berlin and requested an interview with the great Frederic. was immediately granted, and Frederic, struck by his rank, upright character, and his knowledge of commercial affairs, pressed him to settle in his dominions, and offered him every possible privilege and protection. M. Schopenhauer was beginning to feel the resistless influence which Frederic exercised on all around him, when the King, pointing to a heap of papers in a corner, said, Voilà, les calamités de la ville de Danzig. These few words broke the spell for ever; and though Frederic afterwards repeated his offers, the sturdy patriot never would accept the smallest obligation from him. At length, seeing that all hope of the deliverance of his native city from a foreign yoke was at an end, he determined to quit it for ever, and to seek a freer

home. In this determination his young tendency is apoplectic, to wear wigs, shoes, wife fully concurred, and they set out on a and silk stockings. tour of observation through the Netherlands, France, and England. Here we must leave them not without expressing our regret that she did not live to fill up the outline she had marked out.

The facts which Mr. Jeffreys urges in support of his theories are not new; and perhaps something like his views may partly be found in other writers. They are, however, presented by him in so complete and systematic a form, that they seem entitled to the praise of originality; especially the first and last sections-for the second part, on the generation of heat, is neither very intelligibly nor convincingly treated,

MR. JEFFREYS' STATICS OF THE HU-though the conclusion may be sound

MAN CHEST.

From the Spectator.

Views of the Statics of the Human Chest, Animal Heat, and Determinations of Blood to the Head. By Julius Jeffreys, F. R. S., formerly of the Medical Staff in India, &c. London: Highley.

enough. Of his three prelections, howev er, the first, on the Statics of the Chest, the practical conclusions to which the theois the most curious and important; and if ry tends are not so readily put in practice as the directions to elderly gentlemen, they affect a much greater number of persons, inasmuch as consumption is more common than apoplexy.

There are, or may be, in the chest of every one in tolerable health, four distinct portions of air, which our author classes. as follows, with the average contents of each part as deduced by himself from a comparison of his own observations with the elaborate experiments of other writers.

THIS Volume consists of three parts: the first treating of the quantity and condition Every one knows that without breath we of the air in the lungs, and the probable cannot live; and now-a-days most readers mode of its purifying the blood; the se- know that by the act of respiration the cond investigates the generation of animal venous blood is changed into arterial, the heat, with a view to show that the vital dark blood giving out carbon, and receiv powers exercise an influence over this pro- ing oxygen. The popular and even the cess, according to the character of the professional notion as to this process, if climate, or at least that in a hot climate the the bulk of persons have any definite idea production of heat is much less than under upon such subjects, is, that the atmospherintense cold, even should the consumption ic air drawn into the lungs immediately of food be similar; the third part incul- comes into direct contact with the vessels cates rather a new rule to English notions and air-cells. This is the conclusion "keep the head warm and the feet cool." which Mr. Jeffreys denies; and he substi The principle of the recommendation is tutes a view which we will endeavor to this: if a part of a heated body be exposed explain, as succinctly as we can. to the air, the heat will pass off more rapidly in the uncovered than the covered parts; in the human body, generating a supply of heat, these parts will, by long habit, cause an increased circulation of blood to themselves to keep up the requisite degree of animal warmth; full examples of which may be seen in the red arms of milk-maids, and the red faces of guards, coachmen, &c. The practical conclusion which Mr. Jeffreys deduces from this principle is, that apoplexy in England is stimulated rather than diminished by generally keeping the head cool, and by the baldness of elderly gentlemen. The hint which set him to work upon the subject was derived from the care with which the hot-climed Hindoos swaddle up the head, leaving the legs and feet uncovered; and among them determinations of blood to the brain are very rare. And the practice he recommends, with requisite care and under proper conditions, is for persons of a certain age, whose hair is getting thin, and whose

Average Contents in cubic inches.

1. Residual air; which, owing to mus-
cular formation, cannot be expelled
from the chest by any act of expira-
tion, and which remains in the body
after death.
2. Supplementary air; which is gener-
ally resident, but can be expelled by
a strong effort, and whose departure
with life is the act of expiring

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3. The breath; or air continually in-
spired and expired. .

4. Complementary air; ordinarily ab-
sent, but which can be inspired by a
strong effort.

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From these facts it follows, that instead. of fresh air being constantly drawn into

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