will not admit of a doubt, that amid the progressive ameliorations of our social institutions, which the increasing knowledge and wants of mankind render imperiously necessary, the statesman may draw useful lessons from the study of the order and regulated dependence of the various parts of the natural and planetary worlds. But, in pursuing this analogy as a guide, we must guard against its deceitful application. In the planetary system, a sun enthroned in the centre of its domains (a sovereign without responsible satellites) governs the different classes of its dependents by its enormous mass, and amid their eccentric movements, and mutual perturbations, constrains them into the most perfect obedience. But, in the midst of this universal harmony, the spirit of disorder is not wholly subdued. A comet will still forsake its orbit, a planet will burst, and a star will be struck out of the firmament. In the world of sublunary matter, mechanical and chemical laws retain the material elements in a state of deathlike repose; but yet the volcano and the earthquake, the hurricane and the thunderbolt will occasionally break loose from their chains. In the animal world, instinct, neither misled by reason nor controlled by passion, becomes the coercive power over ferocious natures; and civilisation, as it advances into the forests, and among the fastnesses, drives back the tiger into its jungle, and the lion into its den, while it gives a freer and a safer range to their more peaceful occupants.

Where

In the social world-the haunt of cruelty, ambition, selfishness, and all the host of angry passions, there is no regulating power to restrain its unruly elements. When religion and conscience do not issue their stern injunctions, REASON and JUSTICE become the sun-the double star of the social system. communities are yet unformed, or where they have been broken down by internal or external causes, their organization must be intrusted to reason alone; and the form of government that is approved of by the majority in number and influence, must and ought to prevail. But in governments which, like our own, have long enjoyed a stable equilibrium, justice must be the chief guide of the statesman. Among the honest improvers of society, there are many who despise all the suggestions which reason gathers from experience. Intent upon some ideal good, beyond or at least far from their reach, they overlook, and are even willing to surrender, advantages already in their hands. Those, for example, who, under a limited monarchy, speculate upon the advantages of a republic, or of an elective sovereign, or of a voluntary church, or of a subverted Peerage, are compassing vital and fundamental changes, which could only be justified by the almost universal

consent of the nation, or by the most urgent calls of endangered liberty.

To

But there are changes of a secondary nature, which are not only compatible with the stability of thrones, but essentially conducive to the true happiness of the people-changes which no more diminish the influence of the sovereign than the approach of a comet enfeebles the predominating agency of the sun. doubt the safety and propriety of educating the people—of diffusing instruction by cheap and untaxed publications-of teaching in the same schools and universities the youth of all religions of establishing universal toleration in matters of faith -of giving elective rights to the intelligent population-of abolishing sinecures in Church and State-of rendering Law and Justice accessible to the poor-of filling the public offices with the best qualified of the competitors-and, generally, of removing all obvious defects from every public institution to doubt the safety of such palpable reforms, in behalf of which Religion, and Reason, and Justice all lift their voice, would be to renounce the attributes of intelligence, and place our judgment under the dominion of the most ignoble selfishness, or the most dastardly timidity, or the most worthless ambition.

That these were the views of Cuvier, the whole of his political life and public labours conspire to prove; and, though induced by his love of order to defend the governments under which he enjoyed the protection of the laws, yet he was not, as Baron Pasquier observes, hostile to the useful and progressive 'improvements which were necessary to the welfare of every in'stitution; but it was his wish that these should result from patient and enlightened observation; that they should not be adopted in a state of passionate excitement, but undergo calm and deliberate discussion, after a careful study of sound principles, and a conscientious enquiry into what was really 'needed.'

While Cuvier was President of the Committee of the Interior, an office which he held during the last thirteen years of his life, the cases which were examined, discussed, and des'patched by his care and agency,' sometimes amounted to 10,000 in the year. His singular talent for managing a discussion-his powerful memory, which always brought former decisions to his recollection-and his profound knowledge of the principles on which the determination of each case depended, threw a light on every question, and seldom failed in impressing his own views upon the minds of his colleagues.

In the preparation of the laws, and the discussions which they underwent in the Chambers, in the Council of the State, or in

the Cabinet Council, to which he was often called, he exhibited the same wonderful sagacity, which was often called forth in the cause of genuine liberty. Under the ministry of the Duke de Richelieu, in 1815, a striking instance of this occurred, an account of which has been recorded by Cuvier himself. The Prevotal Courts, to which he refers in the following extract, were created by the Bourbons, in order to judge of all public disturbances, and no appeal lay from their decisions.

I had then an opportunity of rendering great services to this country, which have never been publicly declared, but which I should be sorry should not one day be known to have emanated from me.

R-* supported me in all the ameliorations we brought about in the Council concerning the criminal laws, which were prepared in the spirit of the times; but the modifications, which rendered those of the Prevotal Courts almost inoffensive, are due to me. In the first place, judicial power was given to them, not only over revolts, and attempts openly committed on the public peace, but over conspiracies and attempts plotted in secret; and not only over crimes which might take place after the law was promulgated, but over all which had taken place at any period whatever. It is very evident that, in a country like ours, where there are so many men of all classes ever ready to follow the torrent of the day, these two powers would have transferred the Prevotal Courts into so many revolutionary tribunals. Nevertheless, we did not obtain any thing from the united Committees of the Interior, and the law was prepared; but, after a meeting of the Council of State, presided over by the Duke de Richelieu, I demanded a discussion of these questions in his presence, before a new assemblage of the committees. I believe that I never spoke with so much fire; and, notwithstanding the violence of and thanks to the upright and honest mind of the Duke de Richelieu, I succeeded in getting the articles concerning secret plots entirely erased. There yet remained the visitation of former offences to be overcome. M. de topposed it in the Committee of the Chamber of Deputies, where it was defended by two Counsellors of State. I was invited to join them, as I should naturally have been obliged to do in my office of Commissionaire du Roi, but I refused, and the law did not pass.'

One of Cuvier's most remarkable political speeches was that which he pronounced in 1820, in the Chamber of Deputies, on the law of elections; and, after he was elevated to the Chamber of Peers, he drew up, in the course of a day, which the urgency of the case required him to do, a most valuable Report

* The Duke De Richelieu.

†M. de Royer Collard, and M. de Serres, the one in the Council of State, and the other in the Chamber of Deputies, assisted Cuvier on this occasion,

on the law relative to corn, which was adopted by the Chamber. When an attempt was made to introduce the Jesuits into the university, Cuvier gave the proposal the most determined and successful resistance. When he was a Counsellor of State, he vigorously opposed the censorship, and refused to form part of the commission for shackling the Press; and, on a subsequent occasion, when he received at midnight a despatch, written by Peyronnet, announcing that his appointment as a censor of the Press would appear in the Moniteur next morning, he instantly returned a dignified refusal to the Chancery, which, while it increased his popularity, created great coolness towards him on the part of Charles X.

Our limits will not permit us to dwell any longer upon the political life of Cuvier. We shall, therefore, conclude these observations with a brief summary of his private character.

*

In his person, Cuvier was about the middle size, and, though, his figure was slender in his youth, he had latterly become rather corpulent. His features were handsome, his nose aquiline, and his eyes full of intelligence. He was a man of dignified and grave demeanour, equable in his temper, though constitutionally irri table, free from all presumption and vanity, and gentle and. even kind towards his opponents. In the midst of his numerous avocations, he was accessible to all classes; and his pupils and scientific friends always found him ready to assist them in their studies and pursuits. His disposition was most gene rous and charitable; and though his own circumstances required rigid economy, he was never able to refuse an application for pecuniary aid. In the relations of domestic life, he displayed all the virtues by which it is hallowed and adorned; but from the source of his greatest happiness he was doomed to experience the deepest affliction. The female virtues, which had long rendered his home a happy one, were not able to balance the awful calamity which deprived him of the last and dearest of his children. The piety and the resignation of the Christian struggled for a while against the agonies of a breaking heart; but, though his sorrow was for a time soothed by the force of intellec tual application, the anodyne lost its virtue, and the inconsolable father soon followed his daughter to the grave.

* The best portrait of him is the one painted by our countryman; Mr Pickersgill, who generously presented a copy of it to his widow.

By

ART. II.The School of the Heart, and other Poems. HENRY ALFORD, Vicar of Wimeswould, and late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Two vols. 12mo. Cambridge: 1835.

L AST year the number of members on the boards of the Universities of Cambridge and Oxford, stood as follows: Cambridge-5249; Oxford-5290. But the proportion formerly was very different. The numbers at Cambridge have almost doubled since the year 1813. Within a century (as late, for instance, as the year 1748) they amounted only to 1500. Nevertheless, whatever may have been its numerical inferiority, Cambridge has been much more fortunate in celebrated men, especially in the laurelled brotherhood of poets. We do not use a stronger word than fortunate; since the fact can scarcely be attributed to any cause, for which vice-chancellors and tutors are responsible. Not only is genius its own great schoolmaster: but the peculiarities of the respective systems of education in these universities are of a comparatively recent date, and are such as would be generally supposed to tell rather the other way. Cambridge poets, from the first, probably made as little progress in the sciences as Virgil himself, although since the period when philosophical imagination gave way to observation and induction, they cannot adopt his apology, and account for their estrangement by the coldness of their blood. It is at the least equally certain, that the Cambridge poets did not breathe in their early inspiration from the superior beauty of the spot where they passed their youth. The scenery of a neighbourhood from which Robert Hall fled in uncontrollable despair, can have no more to do with poetry than the studies for which it has of late been principally distinguished. Is it then only accident? Or are we to look to the districts from which their members are respectively drafted, for the powerful predisposing causes which have triumphed over these obstacles? The Colleges at Cambridge are of course principally supplied from the north of England and from the midland counties; those at Oxford from the south and from the west. The north breeds better horses; does it breed also finer wits? But the metropolis in this case has a proud pedigree of its own. If the child is father of the man, the Cockneys need not be ashamed of their birthplace. Notwithstanding the contemptuous pity with which imaginative dwellers among mountains are accustomed to look down upon the inhabitants of cities, London has sent up to Cambridge some of Fancy's favourite