minutes we both rose up, and went together to the cottage. We found it almost full of poor people with their children. My friend first examined the arms of those he had inoculated the week before, and then inoculated others, strictly enjoining the parents to bring them the next appointed day. I felt a mixture of pain and entertainment in hearing some of the poor villagers express their apprehensions respecting the benefit which vaccine inoculation afforded them, and relate the prejudices of their rustic neighbours. But the doctor very well understands the art of dealing with their prejudices; and it gave me great pleasure to observe the gentle and effectual manner with which he endeavoured to sooth their minds. It is a pleasing reflection, said he, after they were gone out, that these poor children are for ever secured from the dreadful evils which the disease I am striving to exterminate might have brought upon them: and when I consider the multitudes of the human race who have already availed themselves of the benefit, which I had the felicity to announce to mankind, and those who will hereafter avail themselves of it, my pleasure is so great, and my gratitude towards that Being whom I know to be the author of every blessing is so lively, that I can scarcely express either the one or the other. You have, said I, good reason to feel so: and with regard to your little temple here, reverting to the appellation which he had given to his cottage, it is a fortunate thing for us, that the system of polytheism has given place to the dictates of truth, else Vaccina would have been introduced as a new deity to the world, and men, if they regarded the advantages which she produced, would have done homage in this rural mansion, with greater delight and veneration than in the most magnificent and sumptuous temples that ever attracted the admiration of Greece and Rome.'

Indeed benevolence and generosity seem to be the predominant traits in the character of Dr. Jenner. He might have rendered himself the richest individual in the world, had he chosen to husband his discovery; but, so far was he from coveting emolument at all, that he voluntarily subscribed one thousand guineas to fit out a ship for the transportation of the cow pox into India. On various other occasions the same generosity has manifested itself. He always contributed a liberal proportion towards the relief of any of his profession, when they became indigent or embarrassed. On one occasion Dr. Lettsom informed him of the pecuniary difficulties with which one of the faculty was obliged to struggle, and proposed to contribute a mite in conjunction with him in order to disembarrass the unfortunate physician. Dr. Jenner does not appear to be a man of many words; and after expressing his cordial willingness to co-operate with Dr. L. he soon turned the conversation on some other topic:-but the next day he wrote his associate the following laconic and characteristic

note:

'I write this note just to propose an amendment with respect to the sum for the use of our friend. Will you let it be fifty instead of thirty guineas? Yes.

'E. Jenner.'

We hope we shall not be obliged to contend, at this time in the day, that Jenner is a great, as well as a good man. There seems, indeed, at first sight, to be something extremely remov ed from worldly glory both in the discovery, and in the dissemination of vaccine matter:-and yet if we consider the subject in reference to the amount of good which the Jennerian moculation has produced, and this is the standard to which all achievements should be reduced,-we think the discoverer of vaccination is fully entitled to a place among the greatest of men. Nor should the lowly origin of the specific be considered as detractive of his merit; for if Newton owes his celebrity to an apple, and Franklin to a kite, surely Jenner should not be thrust down, because the whole current of his benevolent works is traceable to no more dignified a source than the teat of a cow.

ART. IV.-Conversations on Political Economy; in which the Elements of that Science are familiarly explained. By the author of "Conversations on Chemistry." 12mo. pp. x, 464. Price 9s. Longman and Co. 1816. To be republished by M.Thomas,-From the Eclectic Review.

Τ

IT is not so easy a matter as might at first be supposed, for one intimately acquainted with a science, to introduce another even to the elements of it. He may begin at the beginning, define terms, lay down general principles, deduce particular truths, and go on regularly, clearing as he goes, and leaving nothing for an after parenthesis; and yet, only overwhelm the memory, perplex the reason, and ultimately disgust his pupil with the subject. Such a plan is, no doubt, the most natural to the tutor, and the most proper for any one, who, in some degree already acquainted with the subject, should yet wish to refresh his memory upon it. He knows how the terms defined are to come into play, and whither the general principles tend; and, therefore, what he is about. He sees that the arrangement is, perhaps, the best that can be adopted for the science abstractly considered, the one that will most concisely develop truth, and is least liable to lead into repetition;-and he has that satisfaction which arises from the contemplation of order.

A mind totally unacquainted with the subject, knows nothing of all this. With such a one, we will venture to say, the most eoncise and least repetitious method, is not the best: the one

which most regularly develops the science, is not the most philosophical. The most philosophical, because the most natural method, is that which accommodates itself to the mind of the learner; the best teacher is he who can most fully put himself in the pupil's place. Such a teacher, we imagine, would open a way into any science, by some observation likely to occur to an uninstructed and inquisitive mind;-as upon the flight of a stone, the weight of a body, the game of see-saw, in the mechanics; the circumnavigation of the globe, or the vicissitude of day and night, in astronomy;-the freezing of water, or the working of a steam-engine, in chemistry:-no matter what the observation, so that it involves some grand principle of the science. By leading questions he will draw the pupil to the development of the principle; and place it full before him; he will follow, or in seeming to follow, he will in some measure direct the course of the pupil's mind; making observations, tracing consequences, starting objections. In such an introduction to a science, the form of dialogue is obviously very desirable.

We are very glad to meet with our old friend, Mrs. B. again. We know no one under whose guidance we should rather place a beginner in chemistry or political economy. The conversations on chemistry' stand in no need of any praise of ours. For its luminous order,-its power, we mean, of making a child think luminously upon the subject, and then aptly following up the train of thought thus excited,-its beautiful illustrations, its pertinent experiments, its natural and well-bred dialogue, and its easy and graceful style, it stands at the very top of the scientific library of the school-room. It is the best praise we can give to the work before us, to say that it is fully worthy of its predecessor. From such a work it is difficult to know what to quote. It makes no pretensions to originality of matter, and of the arrangement of course, we can give no specimen. We shall venture at random. Caroline objects to the substitution of machinery for human industry, as tending to throw the poor out of employment.

'Mrs. B. It may appear paradoxical, but it is nevertheless true, that whatever abridges and facilitates labour will eventually increase the demand for labourers.

Caroline. Or, in other words, to turn people out of work is the most certain means of procuring them employment!-This is precisely the objection I was making to the introduction of new machinery.

Mrs. B. The invention of machinery, I allow, is at first attended with some partial and temporary inconvenience and hardship; but on the other hand, the advantages resulting from it are almost incalculable both in extent and duration. When any new

machine or process whatever which abridges or facilitates labour, is adopted, the commodity produced by it falls in price, the low price enables a greater number of persons to become purchasers, the demand for it increases, and the supply augments in proportion; so that eventually more hands are employed in its fabrication than were previous to the adoption of the new process. When, for instance, the machine for weaving stockings was first invented, it was considered a severe hardship on those who had earned a maintenance by knitting them; but the superior facility with which stockings were made in the loom, rendered them so much cheaper, that those, who before were unable to purchase them, could now indulge in the comfort of wearing them, and the prodigious increase of demand for stockings enabled all the knitters to gain a livelihood, by spinning the materials that were to be woven into stockings.

Caroline. That was a resource in former times, but household spinning is scarcely ever seen since Arkwright's invention of spinning-jennies. Where are spinners now to find employment? The improvement in machinery drive these poor workmen from one expedient to another, till I fear at last every resource will be exhausted.

Mrs. B. No; that cannot be the cause. Where there is capital the poor will always find employment. In countries possessed of great wealth we see prodigious works undertaken. Roads cut through hills, canals uniting distant rivers, magnificent bridges, splendid edifices, and a variety of other enterprises which give work to thousands, independently of the usual employment of capital in agriculture, manufacturies, and trade. What is the reason of all this? It is in order that the rich may employ their capi tal; for in a secure and free government no man will suffer any part of it to lie idle; the demand for labour is therefore proportioned to the extent of capital. Industry, we have already observed, knows no other limits. The capitalist who employs a new machine is no doubt the immediate gainer by it; but it is the public who derives from it the greatest and most lasting advantage. is they who profit by the diminution of the price of the goods fabricated by the machine; and singular as it may appear, no class of the public receives greater benefit from the reduction of those processes which abridge manual labour, than the working classes, as it is they who are most interested in the cheapness of goods.' pp.

107-110.

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ART. V.-The Danger of the Smallest Deviation from Truth Illustrated: a Story founded on Fact. By Augustus Von Kotzebue. From Ackerman's Repository.

WH

HEN I was at B***, I took a walk one morning in the park, accompanied by a friend. We chanced to pass a summer-house, in which were seated two young and beautiful

females, the one in deep mourning, with her handkerchief to her eyes, the other in morning negligee, drawing figures upon the sand with the point of her parasol. Neither of them observed us. 'Do you know those ladies?' said I to my friend. 'O, yes!' he replied; she in mourning is the widow of captain B- and the other is the countess of S. They have been friends from their childhood, but affliction has now united them more closely than ever." My curiosity was excited; we sat down upon a bench, and he related what follows:

Emily and Laura were educated together. They were of the same rank and age, and both equally amiable. The only difference between them consisted in Emily's wealth and Laura's poverty. Both, however, were rich in qualities of the mind and heart, and in due time both attracted admirers. Among other young men who were introduced to their notice, was captain B. He was more indebted to the kindness of nature, who had given him a handsome person and the sweetest disposition, than to fortune, who had been more sparing of her favours. Long did his heart waver between Emily and Laura, but at length fixed upon the former. Possibly he might not himself have been able to account for this choice; but those who were acquainted with him, well knew that self-interest was not the motive. This feeling, however, operated the more strongly on Emily's father; for though his daughter was really attached to the captain, yet she was so incessantly lectured on the subject of filial obedience and submission to the will of parents, that the gentle creature at length yielded, and promised to stifle the growing passion. To second this resolution as much as possible, her father sent her to a distant country seat, where she languished a whole year in solitary seclusion. Her flowers, her pigeons, and her correspondence with Laura, were her sole amusements. Her father allowed her to read no novels, and he acted wisely, as she would otherwise have scarcely succeeded so well in banishing the captain from her thoughts. In her own letters, as well as in those of her friend, his name was likewise interdicted, as they passed through her father's hands; and as they came from a country infected with the pestilence of love, he never failed to open them first, in order to preserve Laura from the contagion.

Though Emily had quitted the town, still the number of her admirers did not decline, for her fortune was left behind. She resembled the invisible deity of the Athenians, on whose altars the votaries offered sacrifice without knowing how he looked. Many, indeed, wished for an opportunity of becoming person