erday forenoon," writes a friend, "I went to South Kensington
Museum. It is really an absurd collection. A great deal of valuable
material and a great deal of perfect rubbish. The analyses are even
worse than I was led to suppose. There is an ANALYSIS OF A MAN. First, a
man contains so much water, and there you have the amount of water in a
bottle; so much albumen, and there is the albumen; so much phosphate of
lime, fat, haematin, fibrine, salt, etc., etc. Then in the next case so
much carbon; so much phosphorus--a bottle with sticks of phosphorus; so
much potassium, and there is a bottle with potassium; calcium, etc. They
have not bottles of oxygen, hydrogen, chlorine, etc., but they have
cubical pieces of wood on which is written 'the quantity of oxygen in
the human body would occupy the space of 170 (_e. g._) cubes of the size
of this,' etc., etc." What earthly good can this do any one?

No wonder that the bewildered beings whom I have seen wandering through
these rooms, yawned more frequently and more desperately than I ever
observed even in church.

So then, cultivate observation, energy, handicraft, ingenuity, _outness_
in boys, so as to give them a pursuit as well as a study. Look after the
blade, and don't coax or crush the ear out too soon, and remember that
the full corn in the ear is not due till the harvest, when the great
School breaks up, and we must all dismiss and go our several ways.

VAUGHAN'S POEMS, &c.

{Hosa esti prosphile--tauta logizesthe}.--ST. PAUL.

"What do you think of Dr. Channing, Mr. Coleridge?" said a brisk young
gentleman to the mighty discourser, as he sat next him at a small
tea-party. "Before entering upon that question, sir," said Coleridge,
opening upon his inquirer those 'noticeable gray eyes,' with a vague and
placid stare, and settling himself in his seat for the night, "I must
put you in possession of my views, _in extenso_, on the origin,
progress, present condition, future likelihoods, and absolute essence of
the Unitarian controversy, and especially the conclusions I have, upon
the whole, come to on the great question of what may be termed the
philosophy of religious difference." In like manner, before telling our
readers what we think of Henry Vaughan, the Silurist, or of "V.," or of
Henry Ellison, the Bornnatural, or of E. V. K., it would have been very
pleasant (to ourselves) to have given, _in extenso_, our views _de Re
Poetica_, its nature, its laws and