of fashion has a most surprising effect on the modes of thinking, and the habits of life, in our modern communities. It is, therefore, in the various forms of etiquette, and the amusements of polished society, that we must look for the superiority of the present inhabitants of Europe over their predecessors in the æra of the classic world. But if times, so remote from each other, may be said to approximate in taste and sentiment, while every successive moment increases their distance, and their impossibility of future contact, it may perhaps be affirmed at the present period, from some recent symptoms that have appeared amongst us, that we are once more recurring to ancient ideas and practices, as is proved by the complacency with which we survey the various feats of pugilism, by the frequency of the astonishing performances of our pedestrian operators, and by other exhibitions of musçular process and personal activity.

From these, it appears that there exists a sort of sy npathetic, or elective attraction, between the upper and lower orders of the community, and that the middie, or equestrian rank, must make room for the pedestrian, in order to fill up the vacant space These new infusions of vigour must also tend to brace up the distorted spine of the body politic, and breathe aw portion of life into the antiquated frame of society, It is not only in a physical sense that a change of sentiments of this description is desirable, but it would also tend to produce the most beneficial moral effects, if pugilism could be brought to check the sanguinary spirit of duelling, provided gentlemen would adopt that mode of combat which they seem so much to admire, and instead of aiming at each other's lives with deadly weapons, they would come to an amicable conclusion of their differences with ther fists. Disputes might then be said to begin as other quarrels end-by the shaking of hands: a pair of black eyes might enable gentlemen to see the cause of misunderstanding in a clearer point of view: a cross-buttock might lead them to a more complete intelligence, and a more regular understanding with each other.

but

Eloquence, said Zeno, is like an open hand, logic is a close fist; thus borrowing his allusions from the pugilistic, and not from the philosophic schools: the first professor of the pugilistic science among ourselves, the late DANIEL MENDOZA, used regularly, in his programmes, or placards, to enlarge on the superior moral excellence of HIS ART, in preventing duels, and enabling gentlemen to protect and defend them-. selves in the most rational and scientific style This mark of superiority is also confirmed by the testimony. of antiquity, for the philosophic Horace, the great critic, as Sir William Temple justly styles him, reprobates those false notions of honour that stimulate men to seek revenge by aiming at their rivals' lives:

"Falsus honor juyat, et mendax infamia terret,
Quem nisi MENDOSUM et MENDACEM?"

This is a most remarkable passage, as it tends to give countenance to the idea that was prevalent in ancient times, that prophet and poet were synonymous terms, and that Horace, in his double capacity, seemed, by a similarity of sound, and an echo to the sense, to point out to future ages the first professor of the pugilistic art. Now, if this science could be found competent to check the dangerous, and, in many cases, the ferocious spirit of duelling, it might then, along with its fellow and sister sciences, be rendered extremely useful and advantageous to society. In fact, no branch of knowledge deserves the honourable title of " science," unless it promotes the happiness and the general comforts of mankind. Pugilism is, therefore, highly laudable, both in a domestic, as well as a public and political point of view; since, in the first place, it might, by discountenancing duelling, preserve the lives of the most honourable and respectable persons, and restore peace to their families, without the deadly effusion of blood; and, in the next place, by encouraging strength and muscular energy in the multitude, it would people the land with a race of brave and manly defenders, that would set all foreign and external foes at defiance. With respect to

the practice of pedestrianism, nothing need be said; it has all the advantages of pugilism, besides being peaceable in its operations, and in no instance leading to bloodshed, riot, or dispute. The Scripture says, "Blessed are they who walk in the ways of the Lord;" and, in humble imitation of the Divine Word, we may safely say, honest and happy are those who walk with superior energy and perseverance, and accomplish their task within the appointed time.

GYMNASIARCHUS.

The Rambler;

Or the Life, Adventures, Amours, Intrigues, and. Eccentricities of GREGORY GRIFFIN. (Continued from page 206.),

CHAPTER IV.

We left our hero dividing his time between books and love, at the happy age of fifteen. We shall still leave him for awhile, to pursue his morning walks towards St. Cross; and whilst he is enjoying 'the beauties of the summer mornings, and feasting on the lips of Amelia Bland, we will take the liberty of introducing another personage to our readers.

In the second chapter, we mentioned that Dr. Milner, the catholic bishop, had placed young Griffin under the tuition of an ancient Jesuit, who resided near the chapel in Peter Street; we also mentioned the friendship of the Jesuit for his pupil, the progress he made, &c. but did not state that Gregory boarded and lodged with the Padre Baldini, whose housekeeper was a buxom French lady, the widow of an officer, who had been killed during the early period of the French revolution, while fighting in defence of the old regime. This woman was about thirty-five years of age, of a sallow complexion, a lively, intelligent countenance, and with eyes peculiarly expressive of. the temperament we call amorous. She had, for a

short time, been under the protection of Cardinal York, at Rome, and was by him sent to England, to be provided for out of the annuity he had settled on the father Baldini. Her name was Madame St. Clare, and nothing but her poverty would have detained her in so lonely and desolate an occupation as that of being house-keeper to an aged and retired man, in a neighbourhood where she had no congenial society, and which is so notoriously dull as that of Winchester.

Madame St. Clare had behaved like a mother to young Griffin for a considerable time; but as he gra- dually approached towards manhood, she began to entertain for him sentiments of a still tenderer nature. The case of a widow is greatly to be pitied. She has known-what it is to have tasted the sweets of love, but after having enjoyed them for awhile, she is all at once deprived of them, and left disconsolate, to mourn for the joys that are past. Now the situation of a maid is different: she has not partaken of the intoxicating draught; she has still her maiden modesty and fears to protect her, and she looks forward with confident hope that she shall one day have a husband, and have justice done her. But the poor widow has not the ignorance of the bliss, nor the maiden fears and modesty to protect her; all those are gone by, and left her with a strong penchant for the rites of Venus, the result of former practice and experience, and sharpened by long abstinence. She was at an age, tuo, when women, if they have those passions, feel them with more force, because they give a greater loose to them, than at an earlier period; consequently, we must, as good Christians, abounding in charity, make due allowance for those infirmities we are about to record in Madame St. Clare, remembering that she was a widow, and had lost her helper, that she was a lone woman, and had none to comfort her.

The serious and studious disposition of young Gregory was a great balk to her amorous feelings; but though balked, they were not to be suppressed. She had no other subject to occupy her mind, and it was

very hard if a clever, experienced French woman could not accomplish the seduction of a youth like Griffin. His amour with Amelia was not long a secret to her; she discovered it by his conduct, and had, by her address, induced him to make her a confidant of his tender passion. Father Baldini uniformly retired to rest at a very early hour; Madame St. Clare sat up reading romances, and Gregory was generally occupied in his study. She would frequently ask him to bring his books down and sit with her, for the sake of company; a request he most cheerfully complied with, as it gave him an opportunity of talking to her about his adored Amelia. This afforded her an excellent pretext for speaking with the greatest, familiarity upon the most delicate and interesting subjects. She could do it with a better grace, inasmuch as it was in the character of a mother giving affectionate advice to her son, for on these occasions she always called him mon cher enfant.

One evening, when he had been unburthening his soul to her, and minutely describing the various emotions, hopes and fears that had alternately ruled his breast, she addressed him as follows: "I have long wished, my dear child, to speak to you on this subject in the most serious and confidential manner, and if I touch upon topics which females are shy of talking about to your sex, you must consider it an effort of my tenderness for you, and look up to me as if I was your mother. You have been indulging a passion in your bosom, without considering the consequences it will lead to. Recollect that you are devoted to the church, and that you will have to make a vow of perpetual celibacy. You must not only abstain from marriage, but from the enjoyment of our sex; and not only from physical acts of fruition, but your mind must be kept pure from amorous thoughts, or you cannot be worthy to serve God in the character of a priest. I recollect an instance of a priest refusing to administer the sacrament on a particular day, because, during the previous night, the devil had caused him to dream of being in the arms of a beautiful woman, and feeling