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man can hardly refrain from bestowing kisses on all with whom he is concerned. He holds out his hand to his pupils on every occasion, and they love him as a child loves its mother. His plan of teaching is just fit for the domestic fireside, with a father or mother in the centre, and a circle of happy children around them. He is aware of this, and wishes to extend the knowledge of his plan to every parent. Pestalozzi is seventy-two years of age. It has been quite unfortunate for the progress of his system on the continent, that he pays so little attention to exteriors, regarding dress, furniture, &c. as of no moment whatever, provided the mind and heart be right.

The attention of many of our benevolent and intelligent fellow-citizens has been turned of late to the improvement of the mode and means of education in this country. Many causes have, no doubt, conspired to give this direction to their exertions, and we are disposed to attribute to the publication of "A Year in Europe" its due share. The school established at Northampton, of which an account was given in a late number of this Gazette, resembles in some respects the institutions of both Fellenberg and Pestalozzi. A few months since an advertisement appeared in the public papers, proposing to establish an institution at Windsor in the state of Connecticut, on the model of that at Hofwyl. Whether this has gone into operation, or with what success, we have not the means at hand to determine. A school has been established at Gardiner, in Maine, upon the same model, and is now in successful operation. Of this school we hope soon to give a more detailed account. Others, conforming very nearly to the plan of Pestalozzi, have been established at Philadelphia and in its neighbourhood.

Since our author's return from Europe, his efforts have been directed to the establishment of a school of a very different description from those of which we have been treating. Some benevolent and influential citizens of New York, where he now resides, have been induced, principally, we believe, by his representations, to establish a "High School" in that city, the plan of the High School at Edinburgh, of which he gives the following account.

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With an American acquaintance, I went to the high school, of Edinburgh, and was introduced to the rector, J. Pillans. This grammar school is of ancient standing, and like the university, it is under the direction of the magistrates of the city. It dates an existence of nearly 300 years, but the present building was erected in 1777, and is 120 feet long. The number of scholars is at present between 8 and 900. Four teachers are employed, in addition to the rector. This gentleman, by the effort of a particular genius, and indefatigable activity, has com

pletely succeeded in introducing into this large school, the system of monitorial instruction, and applying it to classical learning. He has under his exclusive charge, twenty-three classes, each containing nine boys. Every class has its monitor, who hears the rest recite. The rector superintends the whole, and decides all questions of dispute, when appeals are made to him against the decision of the monitors. In each room is a custos morum, who watches the behaviour of the scholars and notes every instance of remissness. Almost the only punishment resorted to, is the imposing of additional tasks on offenders, and obliging them to attend the school, during the hours and half days of ordinary vacation. The twenty-three classes all recite the same lesson at the same time. The noise they make is unavoidably great, but it is the sound of useful activity. We were highly gratified with the evidences of intelligence and attainment which the boys displayed when collected into one room, and examined before us by the rector. The superiority of their instruction appeared not only in the facility of their translations, but in the readiness with which they recited parallel passages, and referred to the illustrations of different classical authors, and in their acquaintance with the geography, chronology, &c. of the historical passages, which were given them as extemporaneous exercises. Great merit is obviously due to the rector, for bringing this method of teaching so perfectly to bear upon the higher parts of education, and showing its adaptation to subjects which have generally been thought beyond its reach. The high school contains a good library for the benefit of the teachers, and boys of the upper class. The whole cost of tuition in this excellent school, is but three pounds per annum, including the use of the library. There are few boys in the school above sixteen years of age, a period which leaves them sufficient time for apprenticeship to almost any kind of business. With such advantages of intellectual and moral instruction, is it surprising that Scotland should have taken such an elevated stand among the nations, for the intelligence, industry, and sobriety of her people?

This, it will be seen, is an application of the monitorial system to the higher branches of education, which, he informs us, has been practised with great success in that literary capital of the North. The New York High School has just commenced its operations, under the superintendance of Professor Griscom and another eminent teacher of New York; and in the facilities, which it will afford for the acquisition of the higher branches of education to the children of the middling and poorer classes in that city, and in all others where it may be introduced, it may do much toward securing the permanence and stability of a government, whose very existence depends upon the virtue and intelligence of the people.

MISCELLANY.

ITALIAN LYRICAL POETRY.

THE mighty fame of a few great Italian poets, of Dante, Petrarch, Ariosto, Tasso, Alfieri, has overshadowed and obscured the reputation of the less gifted of their imitators and competitors. English readers, I imagine, possess a very imperfect knowledge of the number and of the merit of numerous lesser Italian poets, who form a distinct and remarkable class of literature, well deserving the attention of the enlightened and liberal scholar. I will not say their school is entitled to pre-eminence over that of the Spanish, the German, or the English lyrical and fugitive poetry; but certainly it is not destitute of characteristic excellencies, and exhibits many beautiful features of no mean order. These beauties are accompanied, I admit, by several striking defects; but the Italian poets have, like the poets of other countries, a national character, and by that character they should be judged. I propose to introduce into the Gazette brief notices of the most eminent among them, with translations, which may serve to give an idea of their peculiar manner, and of the general style of the minor Italian poetry. I shall not attempt any systematic order in the series of the poets whom I describe; but shall call them up in the succession, and at the intervals, which circumstances may render most convenient. I begin with

SAVIOLI.

The Count Ludovico Savioli was a Bolognese of noble family, whose light and melodious canzonets gained for him, among his countrymen, the name of the Anacreon of the eighteenth century. Both the Italian and the Greek poet are distinguished by the same graceful fancy, the same sweetness of versification, and the same luxurious abandonment of soul to the emotions of love and pleasure. Savioli has left behind him none but fugitive pieces of this description, all conceived in a similar spirit, and written in precisely the same measure. They are filled with allusions to the pagan mythology, and with imagery drawn from its ancient stores. Indeed, he seems to have completely imbibed the feeling and assumed the tone of a genuine Greek. Instances of the use of the classical mythology in allegorical senses abound in modern Italian poetry, and are apt to offend a pure taste by their triteness and by their incongruity. But we read Savioli as we would

a Roman or a Greek. Classical associations are so wrought into the whole texture of his mind and writings, that we cease to judge of him as a modern, and are no longer sensible of any falseness of taste in the poet.

The short stanzas of Savioli's canzonets each compose a distinct and independent idea. They are full of picturesque conceptions, without any depth of sentiment, or elevation of thought, which glide smoothly through the mind, exciting, it is true, an agreeable emotion as they pass, but leaving no permanent impression behind them.

In the specimens, which I subjoin, of the manner of Savioli, I have carefully preserved the structure of his verse, as necessary to the full apprehension of his qualities. The first is his favourite ode

TO VENUS.

Bright queen of smiles and joy,
Agiochus' fair daughter,
Who first, in naked loveliness,
Rose from the foaming water.
Soft goddess, erst with jealous rage
The hoary Vulcan firing;
But oh! the son of Cinyras
With blissful love inspiring.
Thine is the laughing quivered boy,
Who wears the golden pinion,

To whom in sweet succession fall
Obedience and dominion.
To thee the blooming maiden's hand
Is vainly lifted never;

And gray-haired matrons only find
Thy face averted ever.

The strings of silver Sappho rang

To soft Eolian numbers,

When from her couch victorious Love
Was chasing tranquil slumbers.
Thy course, kind Venus, at her prayer,
To earth was oft directed;

The ambrosial feasts of heaven forgot,
Its golden halls neglected.

Before thy bright Idalian car

Now buoyant doves are driven;

But then, by dark-winged sparrows drawn,
It fleetly wheeled o'er heaven.
And whilst thine ear propitious heard
Her strains of love-sick madness,
Thy rosy fingers dried her tears
Of broken-hearted sadness.
And in my bosom glow the fires
Of more than wonted pleasure,

As bolder yet I strike the lyre,
To sound love's dulcet measure.

I care not for the ire of gods,

By thee, dear Venus, shielded,

To whom the Dardan shepherd's voice
The palm of beauty yielded.

A VENERE.

O figlia alma d' Egioco,
Leggiadro onor dell' acque,
Per cui le Grazie apparvero,
E 'l riso al mondo nacque.
O molle dea, di ruvido
Fabbro gelosa cura,
O del figliuol di Cinira
Beata un di ventura.
Teco il Garzon, cui temono

Per la gran face eterna,
Ubbidienza e imperio
Soavemente alterna.
Accese a te le tenere

Fanciulle alzan la mano:
Sol te ritrosa invocano
Le antiche madri invano.
Te sulle corde Eolie

Saffo invitar solea,
Quando a quiete i languidi
Begli occhi Amor togliea.
E tu richiesta, O Venere,

Sovente a lei scendesti,
Posta in obblio l' ambrosia,
Ei tetti aurei celesti.

Il gentil carro Idalio,

Ch' or le colombe addoppia,
Lieve traea di passeri
Nera amorosa coppia.
E mentre udir propizia

Solevi il flebil canto,
Tergean le dita rosee
Della fanciulla il pianto,
E a noi pur anco insolito
Ricerca il petto ardore,
E a noi l'esperta cetera
Dolce risuona amore.
Se tu m' assisti, io Pallade
Abbia, se vuol, nimica:
Teco ella innanzi a Paride
Perdè la lite antica.

I ask not Pallas for defence-
One shaft of Cupid's quiver,
Against the immortal Ægis driven,
Its glittering orb would shiver.
Let altars only rise to thee,
Sole object of devotion;

Thine own Cythera then will be
The realms of earth and ocean!

A che valer può l' Egida,
Se 'l figlio tuo percote?
Quel che i suoi dardi possono
L'asta immortal non puote.
Meco i mortali innalzino
Solo al tuo nome altari;
Citera tua divengano
Il ciel, la terra, i mari.

The Ode to Venus illustrates all the marked peculiarities of Savioli's manner, and carries us back to the scenes and associations of classical times. I give one other specimen of this poet, which strongly expresses his admiration of antiquity, and is eminently distinguished by his characteristic qualities.

SOLITUDE.

Away with fabled names, that shine
In modern knightly story;

I tune my lyre to sing the deeds
Of nobler ancient glory.

Old Sparta, sternly virtuous, made
The pure and spotless maiden

To join the wrestler's ring, by nought
But nature's vesture laden.
No crimson hues along the cheek
Arose to mar her beauty;

Why feel dishonest shame, if true
To honour and to duty?
Nor word nor look betrays the fire,
Which in the bosom gathers

Of Lacedæmon's youths, who sit
Beside their warlike fathers.
But Beauty yielded not the palm
To gold or false devices;

Arm in your country's cause, they cried;
And Hope each heart entices.
How boldly fought the Spartan host,
When Love the victor cherished,
And tears of secret grief were shed
O'er the brave men who perished!
Oh, wherefore have ye fled, ye days
Pure, holy, ever-glorious?

While avarice, luxury, and fraud
Now reign o'er all victorious.
Then haste away, O dearest one,
To scenes where peace abideth;

Far from the haunts of haughty men,
The day in calmness glideth.
Lo there, 'mid lovely verdant slopes,
On high the mountain towers;
Penelope, in all her pride,
Dwelt in less regal bowers.

The cypress there, pale Hecate's tree,
Its sacred leaves uncloses;

And, o'er each rocky dell, the fir
Dark shade to shade opposes.

There, too, the tree, which, as it sighed
Above the lonely fountain,

The Berecynthian goddess loved
To hear on Phrygia's mountain.

LA SOLITUDINE.

Lascia i sognati Demoni
Di Falerina, e Armida;
Porgi l'orecchio a storia
Più antica, e meno infida.
Sparta, severo ospizio
Di rigida virtude,
Trasse a lottar le vergini
In sull' arena ignude.
Non di rossor si videro
Contaminar la gota :
E' la vergogna inutile,
Dove la colpa è ignota.
Fra padri austeri immobile
La gioventù sedea,

E sconosciuto incendio
Per gli occhi il cor bevea.
Ma d'oro, o d' arti indebite
Preda beltà non era:

Sacre alla patria, dissero :
Per lei combatti, e spera.
Grecia tremò: vittoria

De' chiesti amor fu lieta;
Premio gli estinti ottennero
Di lagrima segreta.
Chi v' ha rapito, o secoli
Degni d' eterna lode?
Tutto svani; trionfano
Fasto, avarizia, e frode.
Fuggiamo, o cara, involati
Dalla città fallace:

Meco ne' boschi annidati,
Che sol ne' boschi è pace.
Remoto albergo spazia

Su i colli, e al ciel torreggia :
Certo invecchiò Penelope
In men superba reggia.
Là ciparisso all' Ecate
Sacro le cime innalza:
Là densi abeti crescono
Ombre d' opposta balza.
L'arbore ond' arse in Frigia
La Berecintia Diva,

Contrasta al vento: ei mormora,
E i crin parlanti avviva.

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