or the no less capricious tempers of the melodious exhibitants. For these and a thousand other reasons, which for brevity I must now omit, it becomes a point of pru→ dence and good policy to adopt a plan that shall consign matrimony, like all other trades, to the forenoon, and to the commercial parts of the city, leaving the haunts of pleasure and the hours of recreation to their legitimate purposes. In France marriage is transacted by "private contract." The unmarried whey faces are kept in the back-ground, and talking does not spoil conversation in the saloons. This arrangement, however, in which the young folks are not brought out, is too foreign for our habits, and cannot be recommended. But nothing could be more convenient than the erection of an exchange exclusively appropriated to matrimonial speculation. The neighbourhood of Mark Lane would afford a good site, as country gentlemen might dispose of their corn and their daughters at the same time. Or a room might be hired in the Auction Mart, or at Tattersall's, for the purpose. The fitting up of shew rooms, or bazars, in the neighbourhood of Bond Street, might have its utility, in which each girl might be ticketed, and "no second price taken." This would answer the better, as in bazars "no credit can possibly be given," and "no goods are returned after they have left the shop." Subservient to this scheme, registers might be opened, in which an inspector might, at a glance, know how far any number in the catalogue would suit. By such arrangements we might have our evenings to ourselves, and mammas their daughters, and young gentlemen of good expectation, might, each and all, enjoy the delights of social intercourse, undisturbed by anxious speculation, and unharassed by the dread of spring guns and steel traps in concerts, dances, and opera suppers. As things are now conducted, we must marry in one's own defence, and run the risk of perpetual annoyance at home, in order to obtain some chance of a little tranquil enjoyment abroad. This certainly requires reform, and something might be done in the shape of a rider, to some of the many Marriage Acts which are daily passing the two Houses of Parliament. Let the members look to it, at their leisure. C. M. New Monthly Magazine. MEMOIR OF WILLIAM ROSCOE, ESQ. "Full many a gem of purest ray serene, THESE lines are peculiarly applicable to the birth and parentage of Mr. Roscoe. He was a "gem," produced in obscurity, whose lustre did not seem intended for the gaze and admiration of mankind, but, happily, he was destined to emerge from the lowliness of his situation, and to surmount the difficulties which the humility of his birth had opposed to his advancement and literary fame. He was born at Liverpool, of ob scure parents. Both his father and mother were engaged in the service of a bachelor, a gentleman of the most amiable and generous disposition, in whose service it is probable they first became acquainted. A mutual attachment became the consequence of this acquaintance, and it was approved of by their master, to whom their fidelity had strongly recommended them. They were, consequently, married with his consent, and young Roscoe, their first-born, was brought up at his expense. Having died without an heir, he left the greater part, if not the entire of his property, to the subject of our memoir. It does not appear that his patron paid any atten tion to his early education, and his father had no higher ambition than of making him acquainted with writing and arithmetic. Through an obstinacy of temper, however, which, in many minds, is the forerunner of genius, Roscoe could not be prevailed upon to submit to the tame drudgery of scholastic discipline; and, consequently, he did not avail himself even of the small advantages of education which his parents were able to afford him. Indolence, however, was not the character of his mind; and though he would not attend school, he studied assiduously at home. He began early to perceive the advantages of thinking for himself, on every occasion; and the habits of thought and mental application, soon gave evidence of that genius, which has since shone forth with so pure a lustre. At this period, however, he studied things, not words. He endeavoured to resolve into their individual elements, all his general conceptions, and to form general theories from an aggregate of individual principles. He pur course. sued nature through her mazy march, and the wizard perplexity of her course was not more unaccountable to him, than the variety of appearance and dresses which she assumed, at every deviation from her direct But while he was thus endeavouring to combine the kindred, and separate the heterogeneous attributes of things, he seemed to be perfectly free from the dominion of that restless spirit which pants after fame; and his studies to have been determined by no other stimulus than the desire of gratifying that immediate thirst of knowledge, which, in him, was rather an instinct, than the result of mature deliberation. He never reflected, that the treasures of intellectual knowledge, which he was amassing at this early period, might lead either to the promotion of his future interest, or literary reputation. He studied, because study was pleasing to him, because the charms of science, the captivating scenes of ideal creations, and the syren images of imagination and the muse, were perpetually hovering around him in sportive maze, and communicating a secret gratification to the most simple occurrences and occupations of his youth. As present enjoyment, and not prospective advantages, was, therefore, the secret magnet by which he was attracted, he totally neglected the study of languages, in which there is nothing to gratify, or enchant the youthful mind. A knowledge of Greek and Latin is an endless source of pleasure to him who possesses it, but, until a language is known, this pleasure can have no existence, and Roscoe entered only into those regions of science, where every prospect presented some romantic imagery. He was awoke, however, from his fairy dreams, by engaging in more active pursuits, in which the idealisms of the poet, and the hypotheses of the philosopher, are equally unknown. He was articled to Mr. Eyes, a respectable attorney in Liverpool, and now, for the first time, he was made acquainted with the difference between practical and speculative acquirements. A clerk in the office boasted, one day, of having read Cicero de Amicitia, and commented largely on the classic elegance and simplicity of the illustrious Roman; and Roscoe, though much more deeply versed in general literature, was obliged to remain silent, and tacitly acknowledge a conscious sense of his own inferiority. He felt his situation very poignantly, but it was not a feeling that remained dormant in his breast. He found a new passion awake in his bosom, and he was no longer prompted to study by that spirit of idle curiosity which proposes to itself no final object. Pride and ambition took immediate possession of him, and he henceforth yielded to their restless but inspiring influence. He now thirsted after knowledge, because he felt its value, and he spurned that effeminacy which delights to linger in the softer recesses of science, and dares not pursue her to her most formidable and difficult retreats. He immediately procured Cicero's treatise de Amicitia, and, by a perpetual recurrence to his grammar and dictionary, he soon became acquainted with those elegancies of style, and beauties of diction, which no art could transfer to his native tongue. He did not rest his career, however, till he became a perfect master of the Roman language, and intimately acquainted with the best Latin poets and |