regrets some may entertain for the past, it cannot be doubted that anomalies of this kind do substantially act as so many obstacles, so much unnecessary friction, in the way of the machinery of civilisation, and that the power of combined action on the one hand, the power of human thought itself on the other, will gain enormously by their entire removal. But this, as has been said, is a consummation as yet far off, even in our small island and intensely active society. In the mean time, it affords the purest and highest gratification to observe, that as from time to time the research of the antiquary fixes on and endeavours to portray these features as they exist in his own day-as we pass from the page of Carew to those of Hals, Borlase, Polwhele, and the other authorities to whom we have referred, and thence to the results of our own contemporary observation— we trace, throughout, evidences of the substantial advance of good and decay of evil; the coarser, darker, and more repulsive features of the social organization tend the most clearly and rapidly towards disappearance. A century ago the inhabitants of the county which has been here described were, as a people, very careless of religion, if not irreligious; they are now notorious for the prevalence of devotional feeling, with a strong tendency to the enthusiastic. They were all but universally addicted to drunkenness ; intemperance is now exceptional among them. They were pugnacious and turbulent; they are now orderly and peaceful (notwithstanding their habits of association in great numbers), in a degree surpassed by no civilised community. They were wreckers and smugglers; they are now distinguished for their humanity and courage on the occasions of the many shipping disasters along their coasts; and smuggling (though probably from other than moral

causes) is comparatively a trifling evil. Those who view things on the dark side will have it that these undeniable improvements have been effected at the cost of much loss of the rough but sincere morality of earlier life; that criminal offences, particularly of the fraudulent class, have multiplied, and the breach of some common moral laws has become more ordinary. It may be so: but little confidence can be placed in statistical comparisons between the amount of crime at one period and another, by those who know the many causes which lead to uncertainty in such comparisons; and, however some may reject the notion as a paradox, the amount of legal crime is probably a very imperfect index of the general morality of a district or people. We should look rather to the tone of public opinion. If that be manifestly improved in the great mass of the community,-if many a practice, formerly regarded as venial at best, be now looked on with disfavour, if not with contempt and abhorrence,—if there is a general and increasing admiration of that which is good, though mixed with much false sentiment and visionary enthusiasm, a general and increasing detestation of vice in the abstract, though it be accompanied with much of cant and self-righteousness, and with much of weakness in practice,—the heart of the people is sound, and their deliverance from bondage is proceeding.

If these views of the gradual but decided advance of this little portion of our community in morality and in real intelligence are well grounded, it is satisfactory to dwell on them, not for the mere purpose of tickling the ear of the reader with the commonplace panegyrics on 'progress,' of which modern popular philosophy is so profuse, but for deeper reasons.

How far the world may be improving in these respects, and for how long any such improvement may be counted

on, are questions of another order. But the special interest which attaches to this narrow portion of a great subject, arises from the circumstance that no people present more markedly than this secluded Cornish race the characteristics of that practical republicanism and self-government which appear likely to establish themselves over so large a portion of the world, as the ties of feudal subjection wear out, and the stronger bonds of those systems of centralised authority, which now so extensively prevail, snap, as it seems probable they will do, from overtightening. If we endeavour to picture to our imaginations, a people liberated for good or for evil from these ancient restraints, we are apt to conceive it as habitually managing its own affairs: little disposed to place itself under the guidance of leaders, except such as it selects from its own body, and subjects to very jealous control; ready in comprehending, and adapting, the minor devices which enable men to act more easily in concert; addicted to industrial co-operation, and mercantile adventure in partnership; with no great appreciation, it may be feared, of aristocratic polish and refinement, such as flourished in the older world, but capable through self-education and self-respect of attaining a certain amount of both. Such, according to the estimate which now prevails in many minds, may probably be the republicans of the future, under whatever form of external government their democracy may subsist : and such, to a great extent, are our Cornishmen, and similar races of industrious men dwelling somewhat apart from the great centres of productive industry, at the present day. How the prevalence of such a state of society can be reconciled, or whether it ever can be reconciled, with our huge accumulation of individual wealth and the habitual luxury of our few, is a question the solution of which may tax the wisdom of some generations

yet to come. But in the mean time, every evidence which a comparison of the past with the present affords of the increase of self-restraint, self-respect, self-government in its various forms, in that class of our people who are on the whole removed alike from the influence of wealth and from the pressure of want, is not only a good sign for the present, but of happy augury for the great undeveloped future.

THE LANDSCAPE OF ANCIENT ITALY, AS DELINEATED IN THE POMPEIAN PAINTINGS.

WE are so much accustomed to depend on the four great literary languages for the whole body of our information and amusement, that it occurs to few to consider that ignorance of other European dialects involves any inconvenience at all, except to those who have occasion to visit the countries in which they are spoken. Yet there is much of really valuable matter which sees the light only in the minor tongues, especially those of the industrious North, and with which the world has never been made familiar through translation. Joachim Frederic Schouw, the Danish botanist, is one of the writers of our day who has suffered most prejudicially both to his own fame and to the public from having employed only his native language. For his writings are not only valuable in a scientific point of view, but belong to the most popular order of scientific writing, and would assuredly have been general favourites, had not the bulk of them remained untranslated. His 'Tableau du Climat de l'Italie' has, however, appeared in French, and is a standard work. A little collection of very brief and popular essays, entitled 'The Earth, Plants, and Man,' has been translated both into German and English. One of