LITTELLS LIVING AGE.No. 34.4 JANUARY, 1845. CONTENTS. PAGS. 1. Parties and Politics in the United States Spectator 2. Sir Humpliry Davy North British Review, . 3 3. Geographical SocietyParis Academy Atbenceum 17 4. Gossu. OF THE ATHENA~IJM.SC0tt MonumentPainting on GlassCamden SocietyNew Books PreparingThe Printer who brought out BerangerFrench PrintsStatues of the Duke of Orleans and William the ConquerorAdmiral DIJrvilleSevres Manufac- torySix PaintingsHonors to Literary and Scientific MenMrs. HoflandMS. of ShakspeareWorks of King R6n6M. OrfilaRussian ArchivesBerangerAtmos- pheric LocomotivesMad Baths, 5. The Magnetic Telegraph 6. Relative Decay of the Sexes 7. Relationship 8. The Woman of the World 9. Newspapers 10. Copyright of Translations 11. Advice to Dwellers in Towns 12. Too Late 13; French Dramatic Novelties 14. Travels of Leo Romitzal in 146567 15. Annuals for 1845 16. Civilization of the Cherokees Albany Argus Dr. G. Gregory, chambers Journal, Bentleys Miscellany, Chambers Journal, Atheneum Chambers Journal, 18 21 21 22 23 24 26 27 28 31 33 36 38 39 43 44 Athenceum, . Cincinnati Chronicle, Athenceurn Tribune 17. Duchess of Marlborough and Lady Montagil, 18. Atmospheric Railway 19. The Canton River, or River Tigris 20. Lines to My Wife 46 21. My Uncle the ClockmakerNew Translation of Romans Deafness and Diseases of the Ear Atheneum 47 22. Excavations in Italy 47 23. The Lark and the Rook Hoods Magazine, 48 24. The Legacy Chambers Journal, 49 25. Captivity in Russia, Athenceurn 51 26. Sport in India Chambers Journal, 55 27. Gamblers Wife Athenceum 58 28. Young Love, . 29. A Warning Cry Times 59 30. Vestiges of the Natural History of Creation Examiner 60 31. ScRAms.New Recipe, 25A Surgical Puzzle, 26Salt in Abyssinia, 32French Abolition AgentsAbd-el-Kader, 42FriendsWordsworthBusiness Hours, 48. PARTIES AND POLITICS IN TIlE UNITED STATES: er; the two Adamses have been its principal orna ELECTION OF PRESIDENT. ments. It has enrolled under its banners a decided majority of the public men of the Union, who, THERE is nothing surprising in the result of the born to a comp6tency, have enjoyed a systematic Presidential election in the United States. It is education and opportunities for cultivating refined merely a repetition of what has happened at every tastes. It has been an intelligent, and, on the election since 1800. The democratic mass has whole, an honorable partyrather skeptical, the obtained another victory over the Doctrinaires of natural tendency of men of the world, as to the America. perfectibility of man or the wisdom and virtue of Since the recognition of American independence the masseswith a good deal of knowledge, a, by Great Britain, there has always been a Doctrin- ,great deal of fastidiousness, and not a little pedan- aire party in the Union; it has been almost a hered- try. This party has from its character been more: itary party. Hamilton was in a manner its found- powerful in coteries than with the public. It ha~ xxxlv. LIVING AGE. voL. iv. 1. PARTIES ANti POLI[ThS IN THE UNITED STATES. had too much faith in abstractions and precedents to know and control actual circumstances ; its little airs of superior refinement and learning have alienated and disgusted the great body of electors. It has called itself Federalist at one time and Whig at another; but it has still been the same unchanged and unchangeable party, the counter- part of the Gironde or the Doctrinaires of France of the Liberal Whigs or the Educated Radicals of England. Opposed to this party of men made by schools and colleges, has always been the great Demo- cratic mass, which feels rather than thinkswhich needs menleaders as the exponents and visible symbols of principles. When the Union has had a statesman of commanding character, this sen- tient body has been guided by his will. So was it in the times of Jefferson, of Madison, of Monroe. When such a master-mind was not to he had, the democracy has been split into sectarian worshippers of a number of local leadersprovincial great men. But even when the mass has been thus taken at a disadvantage, the doctrinaires have rarely if ever heen able to make good use of it. Somehow or other, the bellweathers of the flock have agreed to cede their claims in favor of one of their number; or their followers have been induced to desert them for a time in favor of some man of straw, till that moment unheard of. rrhe demo- cratic mass is the field which yields a harvest to experienced political tradersthe doctrinaires are too sensible to be used by them, and too supercili- otis to use them; and the political traders, by appealing to the public sentiment of the -moment, carry the day. Jefferson, the man of the million, carried the presidential election in 1800, by a majority of 73 ~-to 64 over the doctrinaire Adams; in 1804, by a majority of 16~2 to 14 over the doctrinaire Pinckney. Madison, the man of the million, carried the elec- tion in 1808 over the doctrinaire Pinckney, by a majority of 122 to 45; and in 1812 over the doe- trinaire De Witt Clinton, by a majority of 128 to 89. Monroe, the man of the million, carried the -presidential election in 1816 over the doctrinaire - King, by a majority of 183 to 34; and in 1820 -only one vote was given in opposition to Monroe~ s ~dection. In 1824 the doctrinaires made a rally; but still the million placed Andrew Jackson above John Quincy Adams by 94 votes to 84: Adams was nominated president by the House of Repre - sentatives, upon which body the choice devolved in consequence of none of the candidates having an absolute majority. Andrew Jackson, the man of the million, carried the presidential election over -the doctrinaire Adams in 1828, by a majority of -178 to 83; and over the doctrinaire Clay in 1832, by a majority of 219 to 49. In the elections of 1836 and 1840 the doctrinaires were nowhere; and now, once more, in the election of 1844, their --crack man has heen worsted by the nominee of the -milliona gentleman never before heard of on this :side of the Atlantic, and of whose pre~xist-ent state a majority of his own supporters appear to have-been -equally ignorant. The moral of these events seems to be, that the -most careful education and best opportunities of self-tuition cannot compensate for the want of the vivida vis which enables men to comniand their --fellows; that this inborn force is of comparatively little value without education; and that where ~men born and bred to command are not to be had, ~people will put up with any block rather than take an artificial imitation of them. Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, and even Washington, were- by circumstances and education of the same class as the doctrinaires ; but they had a natural power within them, wanting which all the accom- plishments of the latter have not been sufficient to - enable them to take the lead. Jackson was of the million; he had the native energy, but wanted the mental cultivation, so that his public career has been neither useful nor ornamental. And the his- tories of Van Buren and Tyler afford nothing more than exemplifications of the kind of blocks that the million will fall down and worship rather than desert the idolatry of its own will. It is curious how little effect this determination of the million not to be ruled by the mere men of training and education has had upon the march of public affairs in the United States. The prin- ciples which have been adopted by the doe- trinaires have had an influence over the people and their chosen rulers which themselves have been unable to attain. While the doctrinaires have continued unaltered under their shifting names of Federalists, Whigs, & c., the million have repeatedly changed their principles, though clinging to their original designation of democrats. They have been resolute in having their own will, hut that will has been most mutable. The leaders of the millionthe celebrities and the traders in politicsspeak the momentary seotimcnts of the million at elections, hut they adopt the principles of the doctrinaires in the Cabinet. They rely on the changeable moods of their supportersupon the thousand conflicting interests and prejudices which divide themfor averting the punishment of inconsistency when the elections come round again. They address the passions of the multi- tude by their speeches, its judgment by their acts. The wilfulness of the mass of the American peo- ple guides it in the choice of its rulers; but an under-current of good sense and right feeling com- pels those leaders to keep on the whole within certain bounds of sound policy. Though the party of the Canadian Sympathiz- ers, of the advocates of Texan annexation, arid the forcible occupation of Oregon, have triumph- ed, there is no more fear of their crotchets being carried into effect under Polk than under Clay. And though the tariff was the cheval de bataille of the Whigs, free trade principles are as far from being really in the ascendant in Congress as they would have been had the whigs triumphed. The average intelligence and morale of the American people give law to the government whatever be the personality of the governors. The most im- portant change likely to be wrought in the United States by the election of Mr. Polk is the adoption of a new name by the doctrinaires ; the whigs are writing themselves down Native Republicans as fast as they can.Spectctor, Nov. 3. LETTERS from Alexandria, of the 26th of Octo- ber, represent Meliemet Ali as determined to mo- nopolize the transit between that city and Suez: with that view he had refused to allow the steamer Delta, which had just arrived from England, to navigate the Nile; and had given notice to the Peninsular and Oriemital Company that their two steamers already plying on the river must he forth- ivith withdrawn. TIrE King of the French has sent 2001. to he dis trihuted this winter among th~ peer of Windsor. 2 SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. From the North British Review. The Collected Works of Stit HUMPURY DAVY, Bart., LL.D., P.R.S., Foreign Associate of the Institute of France, etc. Edited 6y his Bro- ther, JOT-IN DAVY, M.D., F.R.S., 3 vols. Lon- don: 1839. IT will be sixty--six years next seventeenth of December since Humphry Davy was born at the homely and secluded little town of Penzance, among the mines of Cornwall. It is a county of classical antiquity for commerce with the world in its metallic riches. It is streaked with beauty. It spurns the tides of both St. Georges and the English channels with its Plutonic cliffs. The Atlantic is beyond. His mother, Grace Millett, was left an orphan child, in company with an elder and a younger sister. They were not in want, however; and they were kindly guided by a good man, Tonkin, a surgeon-apothecary of the place, who had lodged with their parents. She was a mild and reflective woman, and, to have done so well by her family, must have been eminently steady of purpose. She had five children, yet never made a favorite of Humphry, her first-born and her stay; and hap- pily she lived to see his honorable labors crowned wjth success by God and man. His father Robert was bred in London to the liberal old handicraft of wood-carving. He did not do much work at Penzance, but farmed the little copyhold of Varfell, some two miles out of the town. He was venturous upon a little scale, and apt to lose his money. A man of social tem- per, if not of jovial dispositions, Mr. Davy seems to have walked through the world as becomingly as possible. He was short-lived like his son, and died when Humphry was only sixteen. The name of Davy stands on the old church- tablets of the neighborhood as that of the proprie- tors of Varfell, a small estate in Mountsbay. One of these is so far back in date, indeed, as 1635 but the lineage of Sir Humphry Davy, Baronet, Doctor of Laws, and President of the Royal So- ciety, can be traced no farther up than to his grandfather, a substantial house-builder in the west of Cornwall. The Milletts, too, one of his biographers is careful to tell the enlightened world, were originally aristocratic and wealthy ; but alas! their fortunes had so crumbled down as to leave little Grace and her sisters the heirlings of a mercery-shop in a place with no more than 2000 inhabitants. Let the Milletts and the Davys, however, have been in ancestry what they may, so small a consideration can never affect the sim- ple fact that the one Davy, whom history cares about, was born and bred amid the influences of what may be called the trades-professional sphere of the society composing the most primitive and isolated of English mining towns, and that in some- what needy and afflictive circumstances. It is more interesting to know that from the Last of the Carvers, as the people of Penzance called his skilful father, he inherited a contriving head and 3 learned hands; while to his gentle mother he owed the temperament and the habits of serious contemplation. His boyhood was in no way remarkable. He learned his letters quickly; read i~sops fables and the Pilgrims Progress like other British lads preferred the perusal of history books to learning his lessons; was an idle schoolboy in fact ; used to harangue his companions, as well as tell them stories; made verses, thunder-powder and turnip- lanthorns; caught grey mullet at the pier better than his playmates, by the help of a device of his own ; organized and headed troops of puerile soldiers, with pasteboard shields and wooden swords; and, as he grew bigger, shot birds among the lanes, as well as got up some sort of play for his school-fellows and himself to act in character. Consequently, there is no wonder that when sent to Cardews school at Truro, at fourteen years of age, the doctor found him very deficient in the qualifications for the class of his age, and could not discern the faculties by which he was after- wards so distinguished ; although his turn for poetry was both noticed and encouraged. In a word, living more with old Tonkin than with his parents, the amiable yet wilful boy was, as he long after rejoiced to remember, left very much to him- self, was put on no particular l)lan of study, and enjoyed much idleness; a noble education in those rare conjunctions where affectionate yet indulgent friends, and the simple manners of a country-town, conspire with magnificent and multiform displays of Nature to kindle and unfold a young character, in which the elements are so sweetly tempered as they were in Davy. Leaving the Truro school at fifteen he idled, played billiards, fished, fowled, swam and took lessons in French; till, two years after, he was apprenticed to a medical practitioner of the namo of Borlase. His father having died the year be- fore, he now displayed that determination to suc- ceed which not only never forsook him, but con- ducted him from victory to victory; as it did Na- poleon, and as it shall lead every man of prowess that is yet to act upon the fortunes of the world. His faithful brother and biographer has recorded a plan of study composed by the future discoverer at this time; embracing theology natural and re- vealed, geography, six professional studies, logic, physics, rhetoric and oratory, history, mathe- matics, and seven languages. This pitch of culti- vation he never reached, and never flew ; but how aspiring! In truth he was too spontaneous to be a plodder, and had not yet acquired that nobler way of using books which is never learned but by a few. Connected with this was the amazing rapidity with which he would rush through a book from his very boyhood. A youth of sinewy faculty, rather than of craving capacity, he felt the noble necessity of discharging his bursting hut im- prisoned force in repeated, and still repeated, acts of original production. Accordingly, he was for-

SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. From the North British Review. The Collected Works of Stit HUMPURY DAVY, Bart., LL.D., P.R.S., Foreign Associate of the Institute of France, etc. Edited 6y his Bro- ther, JOT-IN DAVY, M.D., F.R.S., 3 vols. Lon- don: 1839. IT will be sixty--six years next seventeenth of December since Humphry Davy was born at the homely and secluded little town of Penzance, among the mines of Cornwall. It is a county of classical antiquity for commerce with the world in its metallic riches. It is streaked with beauty. It spurns the tides of both St. Georges and the English channels with its Plutonic cliffs. The Atlantic is beyond. His mother, Grace Millett, was left an orphan child, in company with an elder and a younger sister. They were not in want, however; and they were kindly guided by a good man, Tonkin, a surgeon-apothecary of the place, who had lodged with their parents. She was a mild and reflective woman, and, to have done so well by her family, must have been eminently steady of purpose. She had five children, yet never made a favorite of Humphry, her first-born and her stay; and hap- pily she lived to see his honorable labors crowned wjth success by God and man. His father Robert was bred in London to the liberal old handicraft of wood-carving. He did not do much work at Penzance, but farmed the little copyhold of Varfell, some two miles out of the town. He was venturous upon a little scale, and apt to lose his money. A man of social tem- per, if not of jovial dispositions, Mr. Davy seems to have walked through the world as becomingly as possible. He was short-lived like his son, and died when Humphry was only sixteen. The name of Davy stands on the old church- tablets of the neighborhood as that of the proprie- tors of Varfell, a small estate in Mountsbay. One of these is so far back in date, indeed, as 1635 but the lineage of Sir Humphry Davy, Baronet, Doctor of Laws, and President of the Royal So- ciety, can be traced no farther up than to his grandfather, a substantial house-builder in the west of Cornwall. The Milletts, too, one of his biographers is careful to tell the enlightened world, were originally aristocratic and wealthy ; but alas! their fortunes had so crumbled down as to leave little Grace and her sisters the heirlings of a mercery-shop in a place with no more than 2000 inhabitants. Let the Milletts and the Davys, however, have been in ancestry what they may, so small a consideration can never affect the sim- ple fact that the one Davy, whom history cares about, was born and bred amid the influences of what may be called the trades-professional sphere of the society composing the most primitive and isolated of English mining towns, and that in some- what needy and afflictive circumstances. It is more interesting to know that from the Last of the Carvers, as the people of Penzance called his skilful father, he inherited a contriving head and 3 learned hands; while to his gentle mother he owed the temperament and the habits of serious contemplation. His boyhood was in no way remarkable. He learned his letters quickly; read i~sops fables and the Pilgrims Progress like other British lads preferred the perusal of history books to learning his lessons; was an idle schoolboy in fact ; used to harangue his companions, as well as tell them stories; made verses, thunder-powder and turnip- lanthorns; caught grey mullet at the pier better than his playmates, by the help of a device of his own ; organized and headed troops of puerile soldiers, with pasteboard shields and wooden swords; and, as he grew bigger, shot birds among the lanes, as well as got up some sort of play for his school-fellows and himself to act in character. Consequently, there is no wonder that when sent to Cardews school at Truro, at fourteen years of age, the doctor found him very deficient in the qualifications for the class of his age, and could not discern the faculties by which he was after- wards so distinguished ; although his turn for poetry was both noticed and encouraged. In a word, living more with old Tonkin than with his parents, the amiable yet wilful boy was, as he long after rejoiced to remember, left very much to him- self, was put on no particular l)lan of study, and enjoyed much idleness; a noble education in those rare conjunctions where affectionate yet indulgent friends, and the simple manners of a country-town, conspire with magnificent and multiform displays of Nature to kindle and unfold a young character, in which the elements are so sweetly tempered as they were in Davy. Leaving the Truro school at fifteen he idled, played billiards, fished, fowled, swam and took lessons in French; till, two years after, he was apprenticed to a medical practitioner of the namo of Borlase. His father having died the year be- fore, he now displayed that determination to suc- ceed which not only never forsook him, but con- ducted him from victory to victory; as it did Na- poleon, and as it shall lead every man of prowess that is yet to act upon the fortunes of the world. His faithful brother and biographer has recorded a plan of study composed by the future discoverer at this time; embracing theology natural and re- vealed, geography, six professional studies, logic, physics, rhetoric and oratory, history, mathe- matics, and seven languages. This pitch of culti- vation he never reached, and never flew ; but how aspiring! In truth he was too spontaneous to be a plodder, and had not yet acquired that nobler way of using books which is never learned but by a few. Connected with this was the amazing rapidity with which he would rush through a book from his very boyhood. A youth of sinewy faculty, rather than of craving capacity, he felt the noble necessity of discharging his bursting hut im- prisoned force in repeated, and still repeated, acts of original production. Accordingly, he was for- 4 ever writing; on religion, describing the arc of 1 well as the analogy in composition of acids, alkalis, declension into solid materialism and of reascension into the more mobile elements of a kind of rational orthodoxy; on government; on climate; on friend- ship and love; on the ultimate end of being; and such subjects. He wandered alone by the shore, oppugning the all-eloquent sea in order to practise his ambitious oratory: alone he sought arid loved all the great and beautiful objects around him, and wooed them too, for his muse was still awake in spite of metaphysics and medicine and he sat live-long hours alone upon the cliffs of Majestic Michael, dreaming of glory; the master-passion of his life already asserting her royal prerogative. Then we are told how he fell in love with a young French stranger, and wrote impassioned sonnets in her praise; and we believe it, love being an almost unfailing element of genius; for genius is nothing but a thorough self-reliant manliness after all, resolute to do and become all that manhood may. Be these fine things about love and genius as they may, however, poor Davys early passion must haie been very transitory. Did we not know that women generally smile upon the fervid, and that Dr. Paris is a gossip, we should say that probably the youthful savants unheeded and un- gainly figure defeated him in the eyes of the fair foreigner, maugre his fine hair, his sparkling eyes and his eloquence. At all events, his young heart was already on fire for glory; and on he pressed to feed, if not to quench, the avidity of its rage by conquests of another kind. Ambitious of gradu- ating one day in medicine, at Edinburgh, he ad- vanced from his crude but bold disquisitions in metaphysics to professional studies with the same ardor, and speculated there also like a young Titan. About nineteen he began the study of chemistry; after a year of geometry and other branches of mathematics, won from the hand of time by his own arm. Now commenced his life for the world. He had not been many months studying Lavoisiefs lucid elements, and, in his self-tuitive way, experimenting with glasses and cups, plates and saucers, tobacco-pipes and blad- ders, old barometer-tubes and a syringe, when, with the audacity of an eaglet, he sgrveyed the science from his own point of view; thought he could overthrow the French chemistry in half an hour ; and propounded a new theory of heat and light for himself, doing his little best to support it by a series of rude and inapplicable, but ingenious experiments. Then-a-days one could acquire a very complete book-knowledge of chemistry, as a theory of one part of nature, in a very short space of time. The erroneous theory, devised hy Bec- cher and propounded by Stahl, which referred all chemical phenomena to the agency of an invisible, inseparable and imaginary substance, called Phlo- giston, had enough of truth in it: (viz., the recog- nition of the essential resemblance that exists be- tween the natural operations of the rusting and fixation of metals and the burning of bodies~ as SIR HUMTHRY DAVY. earths and metallic calces,) this doctrine of phlo- giston had enough of truth in it to have enabled Neumann, Pott and Margraaf; R6aumur, Duha- mel and Macquer; Bergmann and Scheele; Black, Priestley and Cavendish, to collect a compacted body of well ascertained and far from ill- arranged observations. These the labors of Lavoisier and his countrymen Berthollet, Morvean, Monge and Foureroy had rendered still more definite and in- dubitable: and then, to consummate the move- ment (which the doctrine of Stahl did, let it never be forgotten, in reality originate) those facts had been disenchanted of the talisman that had hitherto held them together, in charmed bondage to the idea of the whimsical but magnificent Joachim Beecher, during the space of nearly a hundred years; and been drawn, as orderly and almost as easily reckoned as the planets, around the central thought of the lucid and organific Lawgiver. Ac- cordingly, all that Davy could find in his Elemen- tary Treatise* we undertake to describe in a single sentence. If we fail it shall not be our fault, but our courteous readers pleasure; inasmuch as we shall not break it down except for the sake of re- turning his courtesy in not only accompanying us so far as ~ve have come, but in now resolving to go forward, in defiance of the technical barbarities and sterner difficulties that may seem to beset the way, to see what our fearless young Cornish giant really did for this curious science. Well, from Lavoisier he learned that the earth, the water and the air, with all that they include, are the objects of the chemists fond investigation: That he inquires into the composition of each of them in particular, in quest of their general law of composition : That the earth is made up of metals and other combustible solids, oxides of metals, acids, alkalis and earths; the air of three kinds of air, oxygen about 20 parts and nitrogen about 80 parts in 100, with but a small proportion of car- bonic acid in 1000 parts ; and the water of oxygen nearly 8 parts and hydrogen, another kind of air, 1 part by weight, hold ing dissolved in its substance varying quantities of such of the soluble ingredi- ents of the earth and the air as have been exposed to its action: That according to the new prin- ciple regarding the material elements, viz., that every substance, not resolved by the skill of the chemist into two or more simpler ones, is for the time being to be counted for an element, the world in gross is produced by the combinations, and mix- tures of seventeen metals, from antimony down to zinc; of six non-metallic oxidable bodies, threej known and threet only inferred; of five earths; of two alkalis ;t~ of three gases, oxygen, nitrogen * Trait6 El6mentaire de Chimie, pr6sent6 dans un ordre nouveau et dapres les d~couvertes tuodernes, & c. Par MI. Lavoisier, & c. 1789. t Carbon, sulphur, and phosphorus. t The muriatic, flauric and boracic radicals they were called. Although (2d edition, 1793,) L~voisier does not put SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. 5 and hydrogen, the first of these being the most acids, whence its name; while the metals by union important in the actual operations of nature, at with oxygen produce oxides which greatly re- least in this planet; and of two imponderable but semble the u;ndecompounded alkalis, the earths not inseparable creatures, heat and light, which being. intermediate links of analogy, so that oxy- cannot he procured apart from the more substantial gen might be a sort of principle of alkalinity also; forms of matter, either singly or together: That whence Lavoisier hinted that the earths should one as the mechanical phenomena of the globe, such as day be found to be oxides of metallic bases then the tides, the flow of rivers, the descent of avalan- unknown: That when the process of oxidation is ches, the fall of rains and the sweep of winds, re- slowly undergone, there is less manifest extrica- suIt from changes in place among the mingled tion of heat, but exactly the same quantity of heat sensible components of creation, produced by the for the same quantity of matter oxidized: That in force of gravitation; so the chemical phenomena many such instances of slower oxidation there ap- of the same, such as combustion, phosphorescence, pears no light at all, that is there is no high com- lightning, the quickening of the blood of animals bustion, and it was hence inferred by the majority by respiration, the vegetation of plants and ani- that light is not a substance by itself, but only a mals, (so far as that is unconnected with a higher form of heat, or even only an effect produced by force, above chemistry as well as superior to gravi- the rapid motion of quickly liberated particles of tation,) the corrosion of metals, the weathering of heat, although Lavoisier retained it in the Ele- rocks, putrefaction, fermentation, with all sorts of mentary Treatise, resting, it is to be presumed, on decay and renovation in short, result from changes the Newtonian doctrine of light: That the respi- in place among the combined insensible ingredients ration of animals, and many familiar natural alter- of sensible shapes, that is among the particles of ations, are instances of this kind of slow combus- matter, produced by the force of affinity, a word tion, and that by this kindly glow of a gentle introduced by Barchusen, and first defined by chemical action of the breath of life upon the Boerhaave: That the differences between gravi- blood which is the life, is the animal frame kept tation and affinity are, first, that the former moves alive and warm: And, to conclude at last, that masses, the latter particles of matter; and, all the experimental and speculative minor conse- secondly, that the former draws, and binds all quences that are fairly and authoritatively dedu- kinds of masses to each other, but the latter only cible from these greater propositions, with all their different kinds of particles; so that particles of amplifications by succeeding laborers in new paths oxygen do not combine chemically together, nor of research, shall be the creed of the true chemist hydrogen particles together, but oxygen and hy- now and forever! Reader, rest awhile and drogen, or (circumstances being favorable) any breathe: and then go round again to the wicket, other two kinds do unite so as to produce a third where you entered the labyrinth from which you new species of matter, (in this instance it is water,) have just escaped into the open country and the possessing none of the specific properties of either freer air. It is no Rosaruonds bower, indeed; of its ingredients: That gravitation operates upon yet it is a pleasant coil ; and we entreat you to particles precisely as upon masses, that is on all try it thrice, before you either give it over in de- kinds indifferently, so that particles of brimstone spair or condemn us for confusion worse con- gravitate and cling to each other, although they do founded. not chemically combine; and gravitation is then Such was the definite and orderly science the conveniently distinguished by the name of cohe- novice had to study and contemplate, but it did not sion: That all other bodies are combined with satisfy his aspiring thought so long as half-a-year. quantities (!) of heat and light, each body with a The sagacious Blacks doctrine of the materiality specific quantity peculiar to itself, so that when of heat, which bears the same historical relation to one substance (say charcoal) combines with an- the system of Lavoisier as the speculations of other (say oxygen) and produces a third, (in this Beccher sustain to that of Stahl, he saw at once, instance carbonic acid,) which cannot hold sq much with that keen glance into the deep analogy of matter of light and heat as were summed up in the nature which was destined to descry the secret art charcoal and oxygen that produced it, then the. of decomposing the obdurate alkalis and earths, to superfluity of heat and light are given out; in be not only inconsistent vith well-known though other words, the charcoal burns in the air, or neglected facts, but unnecessary for the sufficient unites rapidly with the oxygen, the two betwixt explanation of such as certainly appeared to afford then-i setting free and projecting into space the it illustration. There is no doubt that he was quantity of heat and light that is over and above right in this daring dissent, although he never did what is needful to the material composition of car- much directly to establish a better solution of the bonic acid: That sulphur, phosphorus and nitro- theorem, having been soon withdrawn from the gen, as well as parbon, produce acids when united prosecution of such subtle inquiries by triumphs with oxygen, so that oxygen is a generator of of another kind. But the strange thing about these youthful speculations is the fact that our vol- them, among the elements, on account of their being 50 untary Coryphiens differed as stoutly from the obviously compound. majority concerning the nature of light, and that in SIR RUMPHRY DAVY. a diametrically opposite direction; for he main- tained experimentally and otherwise that light is a chemical substance which is productive of vision only when its particles are uncombined and in pro- jection. Then during all that happy year, repos- ing with inexperienced confidence upon his clever though rude and inconclusive experiments, corre- sponding with the quixotic Dr. Beddoes on the sub- ject, talking and talking over it with Gregory Watt, who had gone to lodge at Mrs. Davys house in the vain pursuit of health, and encour- aged by Davies Gilbert, he wove himself such a fantastic theory of the wonder-working functions of this Lucifer of his in the economy of the uni- verse! Among other things he concluded that oxy- gen, as it exists in the atmosphere, is a compound of real oxygen and the matter of light; that when ~ taper burns this light is set free, while the wax unites with the actual oxygenous principle of oxy- gen and melts into thin air : That, when a man inspires, this phosoxygen (such was the name he put upon the ordinary oxygen of the at- mosphere) is absorbed by the blood, carried to the brain, and there decomposed into true oxygen and light: And that the light thus liberated within the most intimate recesses of the golden bowl, from which the stream of higher life appeared to permeate the body, is the nervous energy and the proximate cause of sensation, perception and emo- tion. Think of the marvellous projector, nineteen summers old, inhaling the radiance of the sun, nourishing his life upon the glory of the world, and rendering it back to the inexhaustible shekinah in the sublimated form of grateful sensations, brave thoughts aud pious contemplations! In sad and sober truth, the enthusi4st was then a materialist, and this dazzling vision, which sanctified the divin- ity of nature to his kindled imagination, was a compromise between his impersonal piety and the eminently practical but brilliant science by which he was taken captive. Old Beddoes was a con- vert to the dream. Dr. Beddoes once an Oxford professor of chem- istry, was the most benevolent but least effective of projectors. Soon after the labors of the pneu- matic chemists, Black and Scheele, Priestley and Cavendish, had conducted to the conclusion, one day unexpected, that there are many kinds of air, as there are numerous species of liquid and solid matters, the primary relations to animal life of the kinds that are in the atmosphere were discovered. The earliest distinctions in pneumatic chemistry, indeed, were connected with these very relations. Scheele called Priestleys dephlogisticated air by the name of empyreal air, and Condorcet by that of vital air, both of them on account of its neces- sity to the sustenance of life; and when the asso- ciated French chemists gave it the systematic ap- pellation of oxygen, they fixed that of azote upon nitrogen, in order to intimate that it is privatively destructive of animal organization. The poison- ous quality of carbonic acid, the choke-damp of the miner; the pungency of ammonia; the acridity of sulphurous and nitrous acids; the insipidity and negative properties of hydrogen were all known and it became desirable to investigate the medicinal virtues of these new and subtle agents. The ex- cellent Beddoes, with the help of subscriptions from the Wedgewoods, and a few other amiable knight-errants in the cause of the amelioration of the condition of mankind by the applications of physical science, established the Pneumatic Insti- tution of Bristol for this purpose. Knowing young Davy of Penzance by correspondence, and admir- ing him, he offered him the situation of director of the laboratory: and the ingenious visionary was thus, ere he completed his 20th year, launched into the world from the quaint solitudes of Mounts Bay; where, by the kindliest secret influences, and without noise of hammer, he had been built up into the buoyant and exulting form we have just admired, with sails full set to catch the gale of praise.~~ A happy launch it was. At Bristol now; ani- mated by the unfeigned admiration of poor Bed- does; ennobled by the friendship of his beautiful, gracious and amiable lady; introduced to the companionship of the graceful and melodious Southey; become a darling thing of hope, of more hope than even himself or any other, to the wondrous Coleridge; within easy reach of his first scientific friend, the accomplished Gregory Watt, and of Keir of Birmingham, the relic of another age; in the way of meeting with famous philosophers on a kind of equality of terms ; in a well-appointed laboratory at last, and nothing else to do but investigate: what a delicious, and even perilous, change for the gallant explorer! yet wisely and bravely he held on his course. A few weeks before, with no propitious breeze behind and no bounding prospect before him, he had written in his solitary note-book I have neither riches, nor power, nor birth to recommend me; yet, if I live, I trust I shall not be of less service to mankind and to my friends than if I had .been born with these advantages. Accordingly, during the two years he spent in the service of the Pneumatic Institution, h~ labored at his ordained calling of discovery like a genuine apostle. First of all, he made some more experi- ments on heat and light, writing out his opinions on 205 pages of Beddoes Contributions in the shape of essays. The severity of critics conspired with his growing knowledge of irreconcilable facts very soon to emancipate him from his delusions about phosoxygen, and he hastened to publish himself a skeptic in his own doctrine. According to both Paris and Dr. Davy, he was wofully mor- tified by the arrogance, precipitation and errors of this maiden work; but we heartily concur with his adoring brother in the opinion that he had lit- tle need, for it is an eloquent production, and full of that lofty kind of promise which is real per- formance. This misadventure told well upon his subse- quent labors as a memorable warning. Accord- ingly, his next or rather his first discovery was of another order of pretension. He found that the skin or epidermis of the canes, the reeds and the grasses is pervaded by a delicate web of flint, which supports their tall and shapely stems like an outer skeleton. He did not daily, however, with dainty themes. In connexion with the purposes of the institution, he wished to inhale Priestleys deplogisticated nitrous air, in order to put to the test a foolish conjecture of one Mitchell, an American, that it is a principle of contagion endowed with extraordi- nary power. In contempt for this vagary, he a~ once exposed wounds to the action of the gas, and breathed it among common air. It was neces- sary to invent a method of preparing it in purity and plenty, before the investigation could be brought to a purpose-like conclusion. After a laborious series of trials, he devised the very beau- tiful one that is now universally employed; viz. 6 SIR HUMPRRY DAVY. the decomposition by heat of the crystals of ni- trate of ammonia, which are thereby resolved into watery vapor and the desiderated gas. Under the famous name of nitrous oxide, he minutely exam- ined and recorded its properties for the first time. He then proceeded to breathe it, and, to his rap- turous delight, discovered the rapid and delectable intoxication which it produces on the majority of people. He breathed it from bags, and within a box, and always were the effects uncontrollable and sweet on his glowing temperament. In his note-book he wrote I seemed a new being, I seemed a sublime being newly created ; as if possessed of new organs; and, best of all, this line of beauty, which fills and satisfies the ear of every genuine bacchanal in these aerial orgies, because it is true, Yet is my mouth replete with murmuring sound. He tried its effect on Mr. Tobin, Mr. Clayfield, Dr. Kinglake, Southey and Coleridge, with simi- lar results. In no instance did the inhalation do any material harm, although it seemed to revive old rheumatisms in the joints of Kinglake. Not oven did any depression follow the extravagant hut transitory excitement. In connexion with a kind of hommopathic theory of the art of healing which he cherished at that time, the discoverer was sanguine of its useful application to medicine. It might be the potable gold of Geber, the vivify- ing quintessence of the elements of Raymond ]liully, the water of life of Basil Valentine, the elixir of Paracelsus, or at least some purified and atterupered supporter of vitality, for its composi- tion was almost identical in ingredients with that of the atmosphere! yet, in spite of this sudden ap- peal to his imagination and of his inexperience in the practice of physic, he never for a moment overstepped the modesty of nature; but faithfully recorded its motility, and pointed out the fallacies attendant on the trial of so strange and novel a medicinal agent. He proceeded to make certain daring experiments on carbonic acid, earburetted hydrogen, nitric oxide and other poisonous airs; which nearly cost us his invaluable life. After ten months of incessant labor, interrupted only by an elated run, in quest of squandered health, to Cornwall, he published his first considerable work; the Researches, chemical and philosophical, chiefly concerning nitrous oxide and its respira- tion ; in the summer of 18t)O. He did not wear his laurels with content. His passion for discovery was too irrepressible, and his look towards future greatness had been too blasting for repose. Convinced that the most sublime and important part of chemistry (was) yet unknown, he cast an eager glance at the very penetralia of the science, and devised plans for the decomposition of those bodies which were known to be compound, but had never been forced to yield up their elements, viz., the muriatic, fluoric and boracic acids; in order that he might grasp those secret radicals, which the Lavoisierians had ven- tured to anticipate. These mistaken devices did ul- timately conduct to one of the two greatest achieve- ments in his subsequent career. Meanwhile he more successfully laid hold of the galvanic pile of Volta, which was afterwards to work such won- ders in his favored hands, and communicated five brief accounts of experiments to the pages of Nicholsons Journal, in the six nionths before his removal to London. Nor is this all that is to be 7 told of his singular activity during the two admi- rable years he spent at Bristol. He must have read a good deal of science and general literature; but lie was forever writing, forever projecting: writing magnificats of nature in blank verse: es- says on education, luxury, genius and dreaming; and fragments of metaphysical fiction and desul- tory notes: and projecting philosophical narra- tives, romances and an epic in six books, relating the deliverance of the Israelites under~ the gui- dance of Moses! Let us refresh ourselves with a single little extract from the abstract of a disquisi- tion on Luxury, before we follow the sage of two- and-twenty years to the vortices of London life. It is this: Nature and domestic attachments the true sources of happiness. Cosmopolitanism, the love of notoriety, (not fame,) the love of pleasure, all fatal to the first and strongest feeling of our nature. The Royal Institution of Great Britain origin- ated, at the end of last century, between the com- mittee of a London Society for bettering the condi- tion of the Poor, and that well-known soldier of fortuiie and effective man of practical science, Count Rumford. It was to be supported by the contributions of members; to bring science into closer contact with the useful arts by committees of research on baking, cooking, and the like; to shed the light of science among the higher classes by morning lectures: and it had been providentially appointed to become the scene of the next twelve years of Davys life and labors. On the recom- mendation of the late accomplished Professor Hope of Edinburgh, Rumford Invited Davy, already known to him by reputation, to fill the place of assistant lecturer on Chemistry and director of the Laboratory, with the prospect of being soon made professor in the room of ill-used Dr. Garnett. It is said that Rumford was sadly disappointed when he saw him, so rustic was he in his air. His success as a lecturer, however, was instanta- neous. Everything was propitious. The conti- nent was closed against the aristocracy. The Institution was highly patronized, and it was a novelty. The chemistry of LAvoismEs ~vas easy, clear and captivating, as has been shown. Davy himself was young; simple as a child, yet daring as a man ; wit.h an actual and a strange discovery already under his feet; a decisive experimentahist; and glowing with the fervor of a rude native elo- quence, which assumed a metropolitan polish with only too much rapidity. His friend Purkis says that the enthusiastic admiration, with which he was hailed, can hardly he imagined now. Not only men of the highest rank, men of science, men of letters arid men of trade; but women of fashion and blue-stockings, old and youmig, pressed into the theatre of the institution, to cover him with applause. Compliments, invitations and pres- ents, were showered upon him in abundance from all quarters. His acquaintance and society wero. eagerly sought. At length the Duchess of Gordon set her gracious, graceful, graceless graces eye. upon the prodigy: and it drew him into the. charmed circle of fashion; there to shine, and shining burn, and burning waste the exhaustible fund of force that was in his well-knit frame. How he changed in the focus of such unmeasured~ and ungenial approbation! At the sound of the plaudits of the brilliant crowds, that surrounde& him in the spacious leetmire-room, he erected his4 somewhat careless shape; aImd the will quickly took that neglected possession ~nd conscious coim SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. mand of every muscle of his frame, which is essen- tial to the graceful movements of the human body. His clear outlooking eye, that had hitherto beamed only with intelligence, began to light up his hea- vier features with an unhidden sense of superi- ority. His rich light-brown hair glistened amid the incense of the drawing-room. His largish but eloquent mouth was soon accustomed to pronounce with both elegance and precision. In a ~vord, his countenance and figure expanded in the sunshine. It was natural. Habitual emotion, especially of the aspiring kind, is more capable of modifying the form and bearing of a man than one is apt to think for. This it is that draws one natural line of de- marcation between the many different orders of society, producing the most delicate distinction of varieties in demeanor. iDavy is an instance. He went farther than nature led him, it is true; and assumed the garb and manners of a man of fash- ion. What another change for the Bristol chem- ist and the solitary rhapsodist of Penzance! Distant ones trembled for his safety, and warned him of his danger. If in peril, however, he was not subdued; and in his five-and-twentieth sum- mer he assured his excellent and unfailing friend, Mr. Poole of Nether Stowey, that the age of danger had passed away. There are, says he, in the intellectual being of all men para- mount elements, certain habits and passions that cannot change. I am a lover of nature, with an ungratified imagination. I shall continue to search for untasted charms, for hidden beauties. My real, my waking existence is amongst the objccts of scientific research. This confidence in the persistency of genius in general, and his own pas- sion for the glory of discovery in particular, was stout, but not overweening. He was at his place in the laboratory from ten or eleven till three or four, day after day, just as he had been at Bristol ; and the world knows what he accomplished there. In preparing his lectures never was a man so extravagantly labori- otis. Rarely or never spending the evening in his rooms at the institution, he confined himself en- tirely the day before each lecture; wrote it; and rehearsed with his assistants, experiments and all, in order to ensure their dexterity and his own felicity of delivery. He used, says Dr. Davy, at this recital, to mark the words which required emphasis, and study the effect of intonation, often repeating a passage two or three different times to witness the difference of effect of variation in the voice. Notwithstanding, however, this theat- rical finicism, he was always himself again before an audience; nothing being strong enough to stifle or repress his native sincerity and earnestness of soul. We have been told, indeed, by one of the greatest men, and certainly the ablest critic now alive in Britain, that while he was express and admirable so long as he expounded scientific de- tails, he would plume himself without taste, and swell without discrimination, when he diverged into subjects of general reflection, or rather de- clamation ;. a kind of composition in which he was far-fetched, pompous and somewhat puerile to the very last. Yet Cavendish and Banks, Coleridge and Southey listened to him with pleasure. Such critics as had no sympathy with a many-gifted na- ture, that knew another language than that of sci- ence, and had the good sense to speak it on occa- sion, condemned his luxuriance of imagery as incompatible with the matter in hand. Others sneered at the enthusiasm with which he heeded and dilated over a beautiful crystal; incapable of conceiving how much of his dearest history was associated with such tiny forms. Once for all, the discoverer, who is bound to be as precise as a mathematician in defining his terms, as disciplina- rian as a general before a fight in deploying his details, and as dry as a chancellor in summing up his evidence for the final deduction, has a right to be a man again, with all his faculties and sensibil- ities erect within him, when he leaves the defini- tion, the muster and the decision; else how shall the apprehension of the manifold, confluent, inter- weaving and unspeakable sympathies of nature with the whole heart and mind of man be insinu- ated into the awaiting soul l Now that the press has become so good a substitute for the professorial chair as to have produced a Davy without its aid, it were well that there were far more of Davys style of speaking about nature in the universities; for it is only by the conflict and collision of kindled spirit with their unawakened thought and emotion, that young men shall ever be fired with the passion for a life of valorous endeavor, and excited to achievements worthy of their manhood. Such was Davys life for some twelve years of as substantial work as was ever done by man of science; adorned by a splendid succession of lec- tures on chemistry, chemistry applied to the arts, chemistry in connexion with geology, agricultural chemistry and his own electro-chemical theory; and relieved by travels into Wales, Ireland and Scotland, in quest of mineralogical, geological and agricultural information, as well as of trout and game; for he was both an angler and a sports- man, though he always preferred the rod to the fowling-piece. In 1803 he investigated the pro- cess of tanning at the request of the Royal Institu- tion, and produced a corrected theory of the art. He increased his observations on the combinations of nitrogen and oxygen; erected a eudiometer, for determining the quantity of oxygen in the air, on the new fact that nitric oxide, condensed by sul- phate of iron, imbibes oxygen with more facility and regularity than any other substance; made an analysis of wavellite, a mineral from Devon, find- ing it to be a hydrate of alumina, or compound of water and the pure matter of clay; and, above all, advanced with unprecedented success in that won- derful career of electro-chemical research, which he had begun at Bristol, and which he never relin- quished till he put himself at the head of all the contemporary chemical discoverers of Europe. It was in 1789 that Galvani observed the start- ling fact that the leg of a dead frog is convulsed, as if the animal were yet alive, when a piece of metal is made to unite the muscles with the nerve of the limb. So extraordinary a thing fixed the attention of the world, and people thought the principle of life itself was about to be laid bare. Volta at once referred the phenomenon to the electricity devel- oped by the contact of two metals; and, in order to increase by multiplication the amount of force to be eliminated in that way, he piled couples of pieces of copper and zinc one above another, wet- ted cloth being put between each couple. The original theory of this remarkable instrument was this: that by induction the copper pieces are thrown into a negative-electric condition, and the zinc OflC5 into a positive state, so that when the uppermost zinc one is brought into contact, either directly or by the medium of a third body capable of conducting electricity, with the lowest copper one, there takes place a discharge similar to the 8 SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. detonation of a common electrical battery. The restoration of electrical equilibrium, however, is only momentary, on account of the continual new development of force by the continued contact of the metallic pieces; so that the current of a Vol- taic circle is made up of an endless series of little electric shocks following each other in swift suc- cession, like the sonorous vibrations of the air. One hand having been placed on the zinc piece at the top of this Voltaic arrangement, the instant the other hand touches the copper one at the bottom, the arms and chest sustain a convulsive shock, proportionably violent to the size of the pile. The ordinary method of submitting minute objects to the influence of this shock is to attach a free wire to the top and another to the bottom of the instru- ment. As long as these wires do not come near each other the galvanism is latent. When their points are approximated so as not to touch, at a particular distance for each apparatus an electric spark passes from point to point: and if the points of the wires he inserted into mercury, water or any of many other substances called conductors, the conductor in question is submitted to a galvanic shock or current; precisely like the body of one who touches both ends of the pile at once. The effect of this current was eagerly tried upon all sorts of bodies. In 1800, Nicholson and Carlisle, dipping these two wires into some water, were astonished to observe that oxygen was evolved at the positive pole, and hydrogen at the negative one. Ritter made the same observation, and found that if two glasses of water, connected by a bent tube full of vitriol, be employed one for each wire, the effect is not prevented. He inferred that water is a simple, body, which becomes oxygen when combined with positive electricity, and hydrogen when united to an equivalent proportion of negative electricity. These two kinds of electricity are imaginary absurdities, invented by Dufay, who called them vitreous and resinous electricities, to render electrical phenomena intelligible. Franklin believed in only one electricity; a body being in a state of positive electricity when possessed by an excess of the fluid, and in a negative condition when deficient of that equipoised amount which he sup- posed to be necessary to the neutral and quiescent existence of all bodies. On so unsubstantial a foundation did Ritter build his inference. n 1803, Hisinger and Berzelius, of Sweden, determined that many compound bodies are re- solved into their proximate elements, when ,a cur- rent of galvanism is sent through them in a state of solution; and made the important generalization that acids invariably gather round the positive, and alkalis appear at the negative wire of the pile. So early as 1800, Davy had repeated and varied the experiment of the discoveries of this decom- pounding force of galvanism; and had constructed, the year after, an apparatus with two liquids and one metal : in imitation of the muscle, nerve and single metal of Galvanis accidental arrangement. After he arrived in London, and found himself the possessor of everything his heart could wish, to follow this captivating new train of dynamical re- search, he plunged, with his wonted decision and success, into a laborious and masterly investigation of the whole scope of the subject. The greater part of his victories in this well-fought field are recorded in the Bakerian Lecture, to be found in the Philosophical Transactions for 1806, and the fifth volume of his collected works. He had first to clear the ground, which had already become obstructed by certain perplexing observations. When water had been decomposed in glasses and porcelain cups, even when organic connecting matters had been discarded and the water had been distilled, there had always appeared both acid and alkaline matter at the poles. This was distract- ing ; inasmuch as every one believed that Caven- dish had demonstrated water to be a compound of oxygen and hydrogen alone. Persuaded that Cavendish was not in error, but not utterly reject- ing the possibility of some unexpected decomposi- tion of the substances of oxygen and hydrogen themselves, he calmly proceeded to rid the common experiment of every imaginable source of fallacy, and inexorably disentangled the question of its complications. In glass he traced the alkali to the potash of the vessels; and he had recourse to agate cups, united by filaments of purified asbestos. In these, too, he found alkali extracted from the stone ; but less and less every succeeding time he used the same agates. This looked like the quick approach of land; and he employed the same cups again and again, in order to exhaust all the alkaline matter that was in them. But the acid and alkali, though they reached a minimum, never ceased to come, and once more the experimentalist was at sea; although he had meanwhile observed that the alkalinity of the negative water was diminished by heat. He substituted little gold cups, and found that the alkaline water in the negative cup lost its alkalinity altogether when heated. it was the volatile alkali, ammonia: and the mystery was all but out. Distilled water absorbs a portion of nitrogen from the air, and if that portion be diminished by any secret cause of removal, the water compen- sates itself by withdrawing more nitrogen from the atmosphere. Again, ammonia is composed of nitrogen and hydrogen, and nitric acid of nitrogen and oxygen. Ammonia, then, appeared in the negative gold cup, where hydrogen was being eliminated ; nitric acid in the positive, where oxy- gen was in the course of evolution : these resulting from the union of nitrogen, absorbed from without, with hydrogen and oxygen respectively. Finally, he galvanized purest water in cleanest gold in a vacuum, as well as in certain gaseous atmospheres that were free of nitrogen, and the tantalizing forms of acidity and alkalinity vanished altogether. The essential point thus placed at rest, he con- firmed the experiments of Hisinger and Berzelius made a multitude more of his own, on the decom- position of compounds into their known ingredi- ents; found that the insoluble, earthy and metallic salts yield to the same force ; descried the impor- tant part this agency must play among the masses, strata and beds of the earth, in the formation of mineral veins and deposits ; and, in conclusion, mounted to the sublime proposition that chemical affinity is nothing else than electric energy. Among masses of matter, an electro-negative body repeals an electro-negative one, but attracts an electro-positive substance; and Davy conceived that a particle of acid attracts and combines with a particle of alkali, the former being electro~nega- tive, and the latter electro-positive. In virtue of the same mutual relation, oxygen, which is electro- negative, unites with the metals which are electro- positive; and so on. Happily for Davys fame, however, as a sound reasoner, he states his electro- chemical theory in such general terms, that haIf- a-dozen modifications of it, that is, half-a-dozen 9 10 SIlt HUD4PHRY DAVY. electro-chemical views, which all spring from this first generalization of the relations between electrical disturbance and the decomposition of chemical coin- pounds, have been given to the world since its pub- lication. For example, Berzelius, Amp~re and Faraday differ from each other, but equally agree with Davy, in their respective statements of the electrical theory of chemical combination. For our own parts, we accept none of them, and are of opinion that one and all mistake the contingent for the essential, while they substitute identity for partial coincidence. Meanwhile the great re- searches of Faraday have amazingly multiplied the data from which a more comprehensive theory of nature shall eventually be constructed. It shall never be forgotten, however, that, as Lavoisier imparted to the world the inductive element of chemistry for all time to come, and as Dalton has laid down the first principle of statics for that com- ing era of the science, in which the mathematical element shall be infused into its structure,so Davy has given the first impulse towards a dyna- mical theory of combination, composition and de- composition, in preparation for the time we thus venture to prophesy. It is curious, in connexion with this historical fraternity of Davy with Dalton, that the former did not very speedily embrace the atomic hypothesis, even as a theory of definite and equiniultiple proportions. Thomson relates how Davy stood out after Wollaston and he had capitu- lated, and (to their honor be it spoken) contributed their yeoman service to the cause. He covered it with good-humored ridicule in the company of Davies Gilbert. The excellent Gilbert waited on Wollaston to warn him of his folly; but came away himself convinced. Davy yielded to Gilbert. To return: Davy, ever greater in deed than in abstractive thought, and abler at contriving relent- less experiments than constructing definitions, hastened to apply this great instrument of decom- position to the solution of questions of the greatest practical importance, and of vital significance to the growing science. Remember what a greedy eye he cast at Bristol upon the three bodies which had been recognized to be compound, hut had not been analyzed, in the system of Lavoisier; and the avidity with which he had invented stratagems for dragging to light the muriatic, fluoric and boracic radicals, as they were called. It was next to impossible, however, to apply the taxis to the fluoric and muriatic acids in circumstances calculated to secure success, and we seem now to understand why the boracic one should not yield so readily to the convulsive wrench. But there were other substances in the elemental scale of the day, evidently not simple bodies, and at the same time incapable of eluding the dexterous and determined manipulation of the indomitable electro- chemist. The alkalis, alkaline earths and earths are, in fine gradation, so analogous to the metallic oxides, both in chemical and sensible characteris- tics, that it was not easy to avoid the suspicion that they should one day be found to resemble them in composition. Accordingly Lavoisier, in a kind of vain oppugnancy to whom British che- mists are too fond of advancing Davys totally dif- ferent claims, had distinctly announced the proba- bility of these bodies being bases already saturated with oxygen in that very Trait~ Ei6meraaire which initiated his admirable disciple into the wonders of the science. Ii seroit possible ~ Ia rigueur que toutes les substances auxquelles nous donnons le nom de terres, ne fussent que des oxides m6talliques, irr~ductibles par les moyens que nous employons.* Again, 11 est ~i presumer que les terres cesseront bient6t d~tre compt6es au nombre des substances simples; elles sont les seules de toute cette classe qui n aient point de tendance k sunir ii loxyg~ne, et je suis bien port6 it croire que cette indiff6rence pour loxyg~ne, sil mest permis de me servir de cette expression, tient it ce quelles en sont d6jit satur6es. Les terres, dans cette mani~re de voir, seroient des substances simples, peut-~tre des oxides mdtal- liques oxyg6nds jusquit un certain point.t Once more, Je nai point fait entrer dans ce tableau les alkalis fixes, tels que la potasse et la soude, parce que ces substances sont 6videmment compos6es, quoiquon ignore cependant encore la nature des principes qui entrent dans leur combinaison.t Consequently, a eulogist in the Edinburgh Re- view is mistaken and unjust when, in reference to the discovery about to be explained, he says that no prophetic sagacity had placed it among the probabilities of science. Davy knew the conjec- ture of his master from his earliest youth, and that eye for analogies remoter far than any so obvious as these, so keen, so true, which distin- guishes him from all the chemists that have ever yet appeared, at once approved the verisimilitude of the conception. He commenced the investigation on potash. He dissolved the alkali in water, and employed the highest electrical power (he) could com- mand, produced by a combination of voltaic batteries, containing 24 plates of copper and zinc of twelve inches square, 100 plates of six inches, and 150 of four inches square ; but in vain. Some solid pota~h, now known to be a compound of true potash and water, was then melted in a platinum spoon. The spoon itself ~vas made the positive pole of the battery; and while, with the potash it contained, it was kept red hot in a well- urged flame the negative wire was dipped into the molten alkali. He says, The potash appeared -a conductor in a high degree, and, as long as the communication was preserved, a most intense light was exhibited at the negative wire, and a column of flame, which seemed to be owing to the development of combustible matter, arose from the point of contact. The spoon, with its fused and glowing alkali, was next made the negative pole the positive wire was dipped into the potash; but no column of flame arose at its touch; only a vivid and constant light ; while, from the inside of the spoon, there rose through the potash aeriform globules, like the bubbles of champagne, which burst into flame the instant they reached the air. This was the first flush of vic- tory ; but these beautiful phenomena were still susceptible of more explanations than one ; and this combustible matter had to be handled and examined by an Englishman, instead of merely flashing like an atomic meteor before the eye of an impotent theorist. Solid and dry potash is a non-conductor. It requires to be fused, so as to entail the disadvan- tage of executing a delicate experiment at a high heat. Ilaving found that the alkali, very slightly moistened on the surface by exposure to the atmnos- pheric vapor, beconies a conductor; he placed a * Trait~ El~meniaire, Tome i. i74. t Tome i. 195. Edition second Paris, 1793. ~ The same. SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. small piece upon a disc of platinum connected with the negative side of a battery of 250 of six and four in a state of intense activity. Whenever the positive wire was brought round and its point laid, like the tip of a magic wand, on the top of the potash, the solid alkali began to fuse at both its points of electrization. There was a violent effervescence at the upper surface; at the lower or negative surface there was no liberation of elastic fluid, but small globules, having a high metallic lustre, and being precisely similar in vis- ible characters to quicksilver, appeared, some of which burst with explosion and bright flame, as soon as they were formed, and others remained, and were merely tarnished, and finally covered by a white film, which formed on their surface. This was the sixth of October, 1807: how memorable a day! His assistant relates, that he could not contain his joy, but bounded about the room, in an ecstasy of delight. It was not alone that some paltry potash had been decomposed by his band into oxygen and a new metallic substance: hut the theory of chemistry was justified and enlarged; the decomposition of soda, lime, barytes, strontian, magnesia and alumina, would soon be forced to follow, as indeed they were; a new reactive power, so potent, as to remind him of the univer- sal solvent of the aichymist, was almost within his grasp, with which he might decompose silica and boracic acid, as they were eventually decom- posed, if not edulcorate the muriatic and fluoric radicals; in fine, for the present, the analogy of harmonious nature was magnified, and for the future, might not the very metals, royal ones and all, be compelled, by this pile of Volta, to unroll themselves before the world into thin hydrogenous air arid some one unknown constituent AND ALL nv HIM! It was a glorious day of prophecy and power. There was still much to do. It was necessary to procure the new body in larger quantities; to examine its curious properties and proportions; to render it evident that its origin had no connexion with the platinum apparatus; to prove that nothing but oxygen resulted along with it from the gal- vanic action on potash; to show that potash, and only potash, is reproduced by the combination of the new substance with oxygen: and there were difficulties of no ordinary magnitude in the way. The necessity of moistening the potash gave occasion to some, whom it is better not to perpetu- ate, to maintain that the new body was a compound of hydrogen and potash; while the entry of water into the chemical constitution of potash rendered the first specimens of potassium (for such was the name affixed to the metal) more or less charged with hydrogen. But the labors of the discoverer, and of Gay-Lussac, who invented a reactive pro- cess for the purer preparation of the substance, soon disentangled the matter, and made the natu- ral history of both potassium arid the metal of soda, which was discovered by Davy a few days after that of potash, as clear as day. Potassium is a soft silver-white metal, that melts at 136~, can be distilled at a low red heat, and kindles in the air at the temperature where it begins to vaporize. Klaproth, Dalton and others objected to its being called a metal, on the score of its levity. The judgment of chemists has, however, been decisive that its other metallic qualities entitle it to the rank it claims. There should be an end to all such disputes. The num- ber of the elements is not a formally graduated scale running up and down, but an interwoven piece of work in which there is no transition but by a kind of flow; although many of the parts are still invisible, and there accordingly appear to be interruptions and divisions to the unexpectant eye. Metal or not metal, in the dry air it quickly combines with oxygen, and is soon covered with a white rust. This oxide is potassa. Potassa at- tracts the aqueous vapor of the atmosphere and be- comes potash; which draws down more and more moisture, till the original bright bead have become a little pool of alkali dissolved in water. This solu- tion combines rapidly with the carbonic acid of the air and, if it he subsequently boiled to dryness, there is left the carbonate ofpotash; the pearl-ash of the housewife. Potassium is lighter than water. It breaks into flame the moment it touches water or ice. If plunged under water there is no combustion, but hydrogen is discharged with turbulence and resist- lessne~s. These remarkable, but far from anoma- lous, properties suggested to the teeming mind of the electro-chemist the conjecture that the solid body of the world is composed of potassium and the metals that resemble it; and that volcanic eruptions are produced by the occasional incursion of the waters of the deep, or of the great mountain tanks, on the still domain of these atlantic metals. The far greater part of the investigated crust of the earth is certainly composed of such oxidated metals, and the specific gravity of the whole globe is supposed to be less than that of even the rocks; 5() that it is at least possible that there may be more of sound prediction in this sublime conception than the majority are inclined to think. In the most serio-comical connexion with the memoir of 1806, out of which all these great dis- coveries arose, the prostrate Dr. Paris exclaims with the naivet6 of a boy: a great poetic genius has said, If Davy had not been the first chem- ist, he would have been the first poet of his age. Upon this question I do not feel myself a compe- tent judge: hut where is the modern Esau who would exchange his Bakerian lecture for a poem, though it should equal in design and execution the Paradise Lost ~ We should certainly not have alluded to this amusing escapade, but that Davy himself all along cherished the opinion, which is more common than enthusiasm in their own pur- suits among men of science, that the principal, if not the only aim, of poetry is to amuse; the funct.ion of science or, as it is more ordina- rily misnamed, philosophy being to instruct man- kind. They do not discriminate between knowl- edge and wisdom; nor know, alas for them! that it is goodness and harmony the poet is sent into the world to teach. Far from enviable, indeed, is he who can rise from the thoughtful study of an original investigation into nature, like this of Davys, without the thankful, though diffident and tremulous hope, that he is a wiser and a bet- ter man for the perusal; but surely the student who finds only amusement and delicious titillation of his sensibilities, in a book of Ihiads, a Divina Commedia, an Othello, a Paradise Lost, or even a Dream of Mary in Heaven, has yet to imbibe the primitive and the nobler elements of humanity. Differently from Paris does Coleridge, the true admirer of Davy, and himself a poet, adjudge the relationship of kind between the august fraternity of Milton and that humbler guild of which his gifted friend was at once the ornament and the 11 SIR HUMPHRY DAVY. master: If in Shakspeare we find nature idea- lized into poetry, through the creative power of a profound yet observant meditation, so through the meditative observation of a Davy, a Wollaston or a Hatchett, By some connatural force, Powerful at greatest distance to unite With secret amity, things of like kind, we find poetry, as it were substantiated and real- ized in natureyea, nature itself disclosed to us, geminam istam naturam, quce fit et facit, et creat et creatur, as at once the poet and the poem !~* A word about Davys own poetry, for there will not be another opportunity, so much is there to say about his natural work. Too much has been made of it by his brother, Paris, Cuvier and cer- tain anonymous writers; for the reported conver- sational observations of Southey and Coleridge are negative, and refer only to what in their opinion he might have been in literature, if he had not as- sumed the warfare for which alone, in our opinion, he was intended and accoutred. Now, in such of his versified effusions as have been published, we are able to descry little humanity; beyond the love of glory, and the most ordinary, if not infe- rior attachment to home. Then the writer ap- pears to love even nature solely as nature minis- tering to discovery; and he imitates her mechani- cal emotions alone. Not only does he never sob as his mother must have sobbed; but he never sighs, nor heaves, nor pants, nor in fury rages, like the sea. For a spontaneous bard, never yet was wight so curbed, so straining to be great, so turgid and, in one fatal word or two, so artificial and scientific. You listen for the murmur of his natal stream, the Boye, or the wave and hush- again of the ever-haunted woods, or the carol of singing birds, in vain. Follow his devious and eager footstep to the rugged beach, and his verse will never mew and heavily stagger, as if in pain, like the plovers on the way; nor shriek in the wind like the sea-fowl, that deafen the eaves-drop- ping air around his dreamy head. Nay, aspiring though he ever was, and confident as a full-fledged falcon in his undazzled strength of sweep and eye, neither in his poetry, nor in any of his prose-poeti- cal fictions on the physical theory of a future state, given in the Consolations in Travel, does he ever soar towards th~ highest heaven of invention, bearing the awe-struck reader in sudden triumph to the sky. He lifts himself aloft like a crag, that warms and glitters only in the sun. By the orient gleam Whitening the foam of the blue wave, that breaks Around his granite feet, but dimly seen, Majestic Michael rises; he whose brow Is crownd with castles, and whose rocky sides Are clad with dusky ivy; he whose base, Beat by the storm of ages, stands unmoved Amidst the wreck of things, the change of time. In reality, with the temperament and the talents of a considerable poet, he was, from the very be- ginning of his intellectual career, too forward in the conscious pursuit of acquaintance with the par- ticular parts of nature to be the poet of her secret heart. His was a constant sense of antagonism to creation; and, through it was the antagonism of a brothers love devout, yet it was a brothers, and ever too solicitous of displaying her capabilities and varied resources. Accordingly, his muse was * The Friend, vol. 3, Essay vi. neither an ever-revealing, ever-withdrawing shape of pale celestial beauty, like the Beatrice of Dante; nor a pulsing form of kindly flesh and blood, like the Eve of Milton; but a hard automa- ton of brilliant metals, precious stones and clay, himself her Frankenstein, and the glow in her mimic bosom a chemical combustion. Hence, she scornd The narrow laws of custom that control Her feeble sex. Great in her energies, She roamd the fields of Nature, scannd the laws That move the ruling atoms, changing still, Still rising into life. Her eagle eye, Piercing the blue immensity of space, Held converse with the lucid sons of Heaven, The day-stars of creation, or pursued The dusky planets rolling round the sun, And drinking in his radiance, light and life. Such was the maiden No, we do not think Davy was a poet; these de- scriptions of St. Michaels cliff and the lady Theora are not poetic; and it is undeniable that he has not penned a single verse the world does not very wil- lingly let die. His sphere and the proper home of his mind was the laboratory. His work and the proper delight of his heart was discovery. There he never faltered. From his last success- ful toils he pressed forward to fresh investigations. After several somewhat less satisfactory experi- ments upoii the elemental radical of boracic acid, his next important inquiry was into the relations of chlorine to muriatic acid. This green and pun- gent air Scheele discovered in 1774. In conso- nance with the doctrine of Stahl he named it dephlogisticated marine acid, and believed it to be a simple body. Berthollet, however, under the influence of the Lavoisierian theory, reversed this correct and simple view of its nature, and did for it exactly what the Stablians had done for the metals. Chlorine results from the action of muri- atic acid upon peroxide of manganese, there being nothing else produced but what was called muri- ate of the protoxide of that metal: that is, a part of the oxygen of the peroxide had to be accounted for, and Berthollet inferred that it had combined with the free muriatic acid so as to produce chlo- rine, or, according to his nomenclature, oxymuri- atic acid. Muriatic acid itself, as has already been hinted, was classified by Lavoisier as an oxide of some unknown base, to be named for the time the muriatic radical. Gay-Lussac and The- nard published a notice of some experiments in 1809, which subsequently appeared at length in their Phisico-Chemical Researches, in which they pointed out that oxymuriatic acid may quite as well be considered a simple body; but they con- tinned to give the preference to the doctrine of Berthollet. It appeared to be necessary for the integrity of the French theory of chemistry, that no acid substance should be by any means per- mitted not to contain oxygen, the acidifying prin- ciple of nature; and Cuvier hints that the physico- chemical researchers dared not run counter to the persuasion of their countrymen. It was accord- ingly reserved for Davy, with his battery, un- shackled thought and decisive experimentation, to demonstrate that muriatic acid is composed of hy- drogen and oxymuriatic acid, instead of muriatie acid and oxygen being the ingredients of oxymuri- atic acid: that the green air or chlorine, as he called it, is as elementary a form of matter as oxy- gen itself: and that, consequently, the theory and 12 terminology of a large department of chemical facts must be completely changed. Berzelius was at first averse to the Divian view, and Murray of Edinburgh waged a puny warfare in favor of that of Berthollet; but the exposition of the beautiful analogies to chlorine presented by iodine, an inde- componible substance accidentally discovered in 1912; and the discovery of bromine, another body of the same order, by Balard in 1826, soon com- bined to establish the truth. It is interesting to know that the reformer entered on this inquiry in the hope of decomposing oxymuriatic acid, and extracting oxygen from the muriatic; but he bowed to the authority of nature, though it re- versed his expectation. This achievement has been loudly vaunted, especially by his own countrymen, as a victory over Lavoisier. It was no such thing. It made known a multitude of facts, of which that great lawgiver of the science was ignorant; but they arrayed themselves under his theory, as naturally as the particles of a chemical solution round an enlarging nucleus of crystallization. Lavoisier and his followers put the appellation of oxygen upon the dephlogisticated air of Priestley, because it was an ingredient of all the acids the composi- tion of which had been ascertained; and they were bound to infer that the muriatic acid, not then methodically decomposed, contained it too. It was not named oxygen because of any peculiar, inherent and inseparable relation to the property of acidity: for it was known to be a common and invariable constituent of those metallic oxides, which were recognized to be the proper antitheses in idea to the acids; and, as has been intimated already, Lavoisier himself descried the probability of its being yet found to be the invariable and common ingredient of the alkalis and earths the conjecture which Davy has so admirably realized. Every chemist is aware, moreover, that it is not the so~called muriatic, hydriodic and hydrobromic acids that are the real acids after all, (if there be any meaning in the word whatever,) but chlorine, iodine and bromine, the salt-radicals of these com- pounds. So much did chemists, for one example Dr. Turner, unconsciously feel the force of this that, when it was found that solutions in water of muriates of the oxides of metals evaporated to dryness leave only compounds of chlorine with the metals, the hydrogen of the muriatic acid having produced water with the oxygen of the metallic oxide and been dissipated by the heat, there arose the question whether the chloride of a metal be- comes the muriate of its oxide when re-dissolved in water. Thanks to Liebig and what is called the sulphatoxygen theory of saline constitution, such aimless considerations are, it is to he hoped, forever in abeyance. At all events we rejoice, heart and hand, to coincide with the indig- nant Dumas in the reiterated assertion that Lavoi- sier is yet intact: for we love, more than any other thing, to see leans discovery of nature har- moniously opening out and lifting its shady head like a tree; the names of the hama-dryads, who have forced the juices to ascend, meanwhile mur- muring without a jar among the leaves. They have often told you that the theory of Lavoisier is modified, is overthrown. It is an error, gentle- men, an error! no, that is not true! Lavoisier is intact, impenetrable, his armor of steel is nowhere beaten in.* * 7th May, 1836. Le~ons sur la Philosophie Chi- nuque, profes~es au Coll6ge de France. SIR HUMPIIRY DAVY. 13 By this unrivalled series of practical discoveries Davy acquired such a reputation for success among his countrymen that his aid was invoked on every great occasion. In 1812 there took place so dreadful a detonation of fire-damp, within a coal- mine in the north of England, that it destroyed more than a hundred miners at a blow. A com- mittee of the proprietors besought our chemist to provide a method of preparing for such tremen- dous visitations: AND HE DID IT. Still more is it to his honor that he was himself the means of introducing the safety-lamp into the mines of Hun- gary, personally overseeing its construction and directing its employment. In truth, tione of his vic- tories seems to have afforded him so much heart- felt satisfaction. In reporting this beautiful in- vention to the Royal Society, he says I shall now conclude. Whatever may be the fate of the speculative part of this inquiry, I have no anxiety as to the practical results, or as to the unimpas- sioned and permanent judgment of the public on the manner in which they have been developed and communicated; and no fear that an invention for the preservation of human life and the diminu- tion of human misery, will be neglected or for- gotten by posterity. I value it, he used to say with the kindliest exultation, more than any- thing I ever did: it was the result of a great deal of investigation and labor; but if my directions be attended to, it will save the lives of thousands of poor men. How gladly we should have taken down and put reverently up again the simple mechanism of this exquisite device, if our allotted space had admitted of more particular expatiation this device which has eluded, with the subtlety of a kindly genie, a sublime and gigantic evil that could not otherwise be braved but with despair; this device which, working like the warning ring of Haroun Alraschid, has protected a multitude of intrepid workmen from instant destruction; this device which gladdened the philanthropic spirit from which it sprang, more than anything (he) ever did ! Posterity will be grateful for these generous words; for He, who works me good with unmoved face, Does it but half. He chills me while he aids, My benefactor, not my brother man. In 1823, the Admiralty requested him to prevent the sea from corroding the copper sheathing of the British navy; and he hastened to apply those principles of electro-chemical induction, which he had so main a share in bringing to light, and that with complete success, so far as the mere chemi- cal preservation was concerned. Nor can there be any doubt that, hut for the endeavor to thwart and disconcert his plans on the part of invidious men, his labors would not have terminated till every incidental objection should have been con- quered or evaded. Some years before, he had been engaged in un- rolling the manuscripts of Herculaneum: but the conservators at Naples, though they thanked him for his suggestions, soon threw impediments in the way of prosecuting the undertaking. The op- portunity, however, was seized, of examining the colors used by the ancients, as found on the walls of Pompeii and Herculaneum, and the results were duly recorded in the Philosophical Transac- tions. It is unnecessary, however, to analyze any or all of these his unceasing and, as it were, su- pernumerary labors; for every European student of chemistry is a student of the works of Davy, SIR 11UM1HRY DAVY. and the general reader cannot be supposed to ac- cord enough of interest to the consideration of scientific details, not more deeply related to the progress of human investigation into the theory of nature. We have not followed his private fortunes fur- ther than his union with the Royal Institution; because our interest is always concentrated on the struggle of life, while Davy so early shone in the eye of the world, and was by nature so much more than equal to the kind of researches he un- dertook, that he needs not be looked back upon as one of those heroic spirits whose whole careers have been, like the lives of Columbus, Galileo, and Kepler, but a battle and a march from end to end. Honors were showered upon him. A fellow of the Royal Society at five-and-twenty, he was elected a secretary at twenty-nine. For his Bakerian lecture he received Napoleons prize for the advancement of galvanic researches from the French Institute, at a time when national hostili- ties were at their height. In his three-and-thir- tieth year, Trinity College of Dublin created him a doctor of laws, and the year after this academi- cal distinction, he received what is called the honor of knighthood from the hand of George IV., who had just entered on his regency as Prince of Wales. He was proud of it, because it had been worn by Newton. A day or two there- after, having first resigned his professorship in the institution, he married Mrs. Appreece, the rich widow of a diplomatist; a lady remarkable for intelligence and activity of mind. A few years later, the invention of the safety-lamp brought him the public gratitude of the united colliers of Whitehaven, of the coal proprietors of the north of England, of the grand jury of Dur- ham, of the chamber of commerce at Mons, of the coal miners of Flanders; and, above all, of the coal owners of the Wear and the Tyne, who pre- sented him (it was his own choice) with a dinner service of plate, worth 2,500. On the same occasion, Alexander, the emperor of all the Rus- sias, sent him a vase with a letter of commenda- tion; and the Royal Society of his own colintry bestowed on him their biennial medal. In 1817 he was elected to the dignity of an associate of the Institute of France. Next year, at the age of forty, he was created a baronet; but he was never so happy as to produce an heir to the title. At length, in 1820, he was elevated by a large majority, to the presidency of the Royal Society of London; an honorary and laborious office~ which he filled with somewhat more pomp and pride than was either necessary or becoming, till he resigned it in 1827. Out of a life of so many labors and so many honors, few men could have contrived to distil so many pleasures. Fond of travel, geology, and sport, he seems to have visited, for the purposes of mineralogy and the angle, almost every county of England and Wales. In the summer of 1804, when little more than the brilliant professor at the Royal Institution of Great Britain, he was in Scotland and among the Western Islands. The following season he made a descent on the north of Ireland, for the purpose of examining the ba- saltic formations of the coast. In 1806 he was again in Ireland, from June to October. Six years after this he undertook a tour of pleasure in Scotland with Lady Davy after their marriage, leaving London in July, purposing to return in December. hut getting back by the end of Octo her. He was provided with a portable labora- tory; that he might experiment when he chose, as well as fish and shoot, which he almost as much delighted in, according to the testimony of Dr. Davy. In November of the same year he was at Tunbridge, and there his eye was dam- aged by an experiment on the explosive chloride of nitrogen. The following year, 1813, lie ob- tained permission from the French government to visit the continent; left London in October; and spent two months in Paris, where he was received with signal politeness and eclat, forming the ac- quaintance of almost every remarkable person in that concentrated metropolis. Proceeding to Rome, Naples and Milan, where he saw Volta, the godsire of his principal discoveries, he went round to Geneva and resided there from June till September, when he returned to winter at Rome: and next spring, returning through part of Ger- many, he reached London again in April, 1815. Between this date and the same month in 1818, he made several journeys to the north of England and Scotland, partly in connexion with his in- quiries into the chemistry and natural history of fire-damp, hut chiefly, it would appear, for the sake of his favorite sports. In one of his Scottish tours he went to Orkney. In May, 1818, he pro- ceeded a second time to the continent, visiting Austrian Flanders, Germany, Austria, Hungary, Illyria, Carinthia, Carniola, Istria; and reaching Rome in October, whence he soon hastened to Naples, in order to unrol the Herculaneum manu- scripts. After residing at the baths of Lucca and elsewhere, he was once more in England in the June of 1820; and away to the lowland Scottish moors in ever welcome August. It was this au- tumn he visited Sir Walter Scott at Abhotsford, and wetted his line in the Tweed. Having be- come the president of the Royal Society in No- vember, 1820, as soon as the duties of the session were over, he betook himself to Ireland, he says himself, for sport in the Bush and the Bahn; and then to the west of Scotland, it is presumed, for grouse. At last, in winter, he found himself once more at 1\Iouets Bay, the scene of his boyhood, and wrote to Poole, an uncontrollable necessity has brought me here. At Peezance they received our baronet and president with every public hon or. He stayed a week and more among them. Next summer and autumn away again to fish and shoot among the distant Highlands of Scotland; his lady not appearing to have accompanied him very much in his travels after their return from their first residence upon the continent. The fol- lowing season he ~vent to Ireland and Scotland with Wollaston, whom he seems to have infected with as fond a love of angling as his own. In the summer of 1824 he coasted Norway, and travelled in Sweden, Denmark, Holstein, and Hanover; visiting crown princes and philosophers; fishin in strange northern lakes and rivers ; shooting snipes eating capital dinners, every item of more than one of which is registered by him, and pub- lished by his brother with becoming enthusiasm and gratitude; and storing up, for the use of his friends and the British public at large, certain culinary hints concerning cucumbers and the roast- ing of fowls with parsley in their bellies. The wines they gave him to drink in those ungenial but hospitable climes were good! Yes, the baro- net had a taste in wines; the president was a gourmet. It was a safer and even a more aristo- cratic w~y of eaca~e than almoat any other for 14 SIR HUP4PIIRY DAVY. that superfluous steam of animality which is, in- deed an inferior, bnt yet a very frequent excess in the constitution of the man of prowess. Almost every great man is a voluptuary by nature. Even Newton smoked himself into a state of absolute etiolation. Your true consumers of tobacco, your genuine gourmets, your consummate lovers of wine, your most absolute of gallants, and your only sufferable opium-eaters, are such men of ge- nius as really do toil like heroes when they are at work. Doubtless, men of genius are endued with the most sensitive and quivering of corporeal frames; and, if their characters be at the same time strong and Vi~orons, that swiftly responsive constitution to the play of every sensuous delight is invariably accompanied by the fiercest manifes- tations of turbulent human passion ; and these are the chief incrredients of the less brutish man of vice. Then there is as little doubt that the alter- nation of activity among all the elements, which constitute a man complete, furnishes the best con- ditions for the full activity of each of theni in suc- cession. The mind, which is overstrained, in- stinctively seeks and finds its natural repose in the pleasures of sensation; and the wearied sense aspires to hide itself in the kindlier bosom of emo- tion whence the intellect springs up anew in renovated strength. Happily for the world, the great leaders of its spiritual history have been for the most part men of principle and wisdom, who have known the blessed art of guiding these irrepressible outbursts of their earth-born characters into the beautiful and fertilizing channels of virtue. Happy the man of capacious intensity who, in the midst of temp- tations like those that surrounded Davy from first to last, succeeds in living so well as never once to call a blush upon the face of purity; for such an one can well afford to tolerate the smile of affec- tionate criticism regarding the ludicrous pleasures of the table. But happier he whom, with the highest work to do and ability to do it in the high- est spirit, Providence shall early withdraw from the fascinations of the world into some sweet and solemn seclusion, where, away from both the pro- motions and the hindrances of such inconstant men as easily extol and straightway too easily fall into censure; in the exhilarating and wholesome com- pany of a quiet few, who love him for the heart that warius his unwearied hr in; surrounded only by the simplest pleasures, and these the lawful dalhiances of his human nature; and interrupted only by the weekly sabbath of creation, he might spend his unambitious days in the serener toils of investigation, destined not only to enrich but to ennoble the general mind of humanity for every century to come, long after his indiffer- ent name shall be more than mythic, or even be pronounced at all: as the continental river, cover- ing man y a gorgeous plain with wealth and beauty as it rolls its waters to the ocean, whence they originally arose, owes its skyey sources to the homely solitudes of some mountain range. Not unlike this ideal would have been the even tenor of time-honored Dalton, had he not been held to the ground in the cold gripe of poverty almost all his generous days. Amid influences somewhat like these did Bacon end his busy years, and execute his full-orbed works on methodology; hav- ing, by the light that shone inextinguishably within him, transformed the rural prison-home, to which he was banished by the sapient king of Great Britain and Ireland, into a true and long- 15 resounding oracle of the omniscient God of nature. Similar were the propitious fortunes that followed the remote and indefatigable footsteps of Herschel; all honor to the considerate bounty of George the Third. But above all, not far.from such was the sainted life of Newton, awful shade! Sir Humphry had soon to undertake travels of a more sacred character, and of the most momentous consequences to himself and the world. What- ever burns consumesashes remain.~ From the period of his excellent mothers death, in Sep- tember 1826, his vigor had declined. Pain and numbness invaded his right limbs, and his strong heart began to flutter. His last oration before the Royal Society was delivered on St. Andrews day in 1826, with painful exertion, as if he Were about to be stricken down by apoplexy. The skill of his friend Dr. Babington did little for him; but he rallied, and early in 1827 he was able to with- draw to the Continent from the toils and annoy- ances of office. It was an inclement season ; but he arrived at Ravenna by the 20th of February, where an accomplished young vice-legate did all he could have done for a brother. I have chosen this spot of the declining empire of Rome, he wrote, as one of solitude and reposeI ride in the pine forest, which is the most magnificent in Europe.The pine wood partly covers the spot where the Roman fleet once rode. Such is the change of time ! Here his brother, who had attended, left him. He was as diligent as his strength would permit in taking exercise on horse- back, among the avenues of Pineta and the marshes of La Classe, with his gun and his dogs; amused himself by reading; penned Hints and Experiments in Physical Science, for he experi- mented to the very last: wrote reflections on life. full of experience, both in verse and prose; and engaged his powerful mind with contemplations of a higher order still. We cannot follow him closely in the weary track that eventually led this conqueror of the ele- ments out of nature; the subject and the sphere of all his victories. It was a sore struggle. Through- out his journals there are scattered exclamations of valde miserabilis. Poor Davy! with none but servile hands to tend him; no one to lean upon in the hour of weakness; homeless and alone he wandered bravely on in voluntary pilgrimage to shrine of sequestered beauty after shrine, avoiding the interference of physicians, taking counsel of his own heart, and sporting like a naturalist when he could, from April to October; when he returned to London, the arena of his glory, for the last time, neither decidedly better nor worse.~~ Unfit for the excitements and cares of society, as well as for the active labors of research, he wished to buy some warm-lying, beautiful estate, happily situated for the rural sports he followed with una- bated zeal. There, gazing with a fond proprietary sense upon the landscape, watching the weather and the varying year with the eye of a genuine natu- ralist, deceiving the finny people with the quaint solicitude of another Walton, and looking back with triumphant sighs upon his exulting life ; his life would have oozed away. It was not to be so. His wishes were not met; his health would not improve; and he lon~ed for his South Austrian solitudes again. Bidding farewell to London at the end of March, the following sprint,, he spent the summer as he had spent the last; and then withdrew from the sublime Styrian haunts, which he loved so truly, to reside once more in Rome. SIR H1JMPHRY DAVY. In this premature winter of the year of his life the discoverer turned, with the trusting love of a child, for solace in the summery bosom of nature. Nature never deceives usis his plaint. The rocks, the mountains, the streams, always speak the same language. Her fruits are all balmy, bright and sweet; she affords none of these blighted ones so common in the life of man, and so like the fabled apples of the Dead Sea, fresh and beautiful to the sight, but, when tasted, full of bitterness and ashes. Davy too, the bril- liant and successful, had been encountered by dis- appointment, the entailed inheritance of human nature. His whole life was calculated to work him up to an exorbitant pitch of expectation. He was never very well fitted by nature, and totally unfitted by experience, for misfortunes. It is well for the world that his early path was easy and open, for success and applause were the necessary stimulus of so sanguine and sympathetic a being. Accordingly, when, after all that he had done and enjoyed, they endeavored to rob him of the dearer honor of his invention of the Safety-Lamp, by a base and ignorant cabal, fomented by men whom, now that the question is forever put contemptii- ously at rest, it were too much honor ever to name again, there is no wonder that he was deeply wounded by the insult. Then the impediments that were thrown in the way of the thorough investigation of the copper-sheathing question by certain underlings of office, for the weightiest and most selfish of purposes, and the taunts that were invidiously bandied about concerning the apparent failure of his admirable plan for protection, vexed and filled him with just indignation. We men are cruel usurers; for if a man, making himself over to us for better for worse, half-accomplish a diffi- cult discovery in our behoof, we immediately hoot him for his unneighborly bravery in attacking so impregnable a stronghold, and persecute him into solitude, because his victory is not complete: and so we abandon him to complete it by himself! Not that this of Davys, vexatious though it was, is an instance very strongly in point; yet it serves for illustration, while it must have stung a man of his unfailing resources and invariable success, to the very quick. Nor was Sir Humphry happy in his elevation to the chair of the Royal Society; ex- cept in the profaned consideration that it was once the chair of Newton, profaned by the unavoida- ble remembrance of the intermediate nonentities that had occupied the sacred seat. We are in- competent to the discussion of this question; but it is clear that his administration was far from giv- ing satisfaction. The responsibility of every disa- greeable thing that transpired in the private trans- actions of the society was thrown on him. He was annoyed by a hundred impertinent trifles. Above all, he was disappointed in his life-long foolish hope, of one day moving the government of Britain to patronize the cause of science. Things did not go so sweetly with him as they did the rising and ascent of his climbing sun. Other sorrows he may have suffered; others he did, although we cannot well say what. But to a spirit of such inexhaustible activity, it was sorrow enough to feel that cold, slimy and relentless clutch of palsy, creeping slowly over him; the palm upon his heart, and the chilly fingers over his limbs, to squeeze him leisurely to death. It was at Rome, on the 20th of February, when he was finishing the Last days of a Philosopher, that he received the final warning to prepare. By dictation he wrote to his brother, who was at Malta with the British troops, I am dying from a severe attack of palsy, which has seized the whole of the body, with the exception of the intel- lectual organ. I shall leave my bones in the Eter- nal City. But he was to die neither then nor there. Within three weeks his brother was by his bed-side; and found him as much interested in the anatomy and electricity of the torpedo as ever, though he bade Dr. Davy not be grieved by his approach- ing dissolution. Yet after a day of 150 pulse- beats, and only five breathings, in a minute, and of the most distressing particular symptoms, he again revived. Shortly after this Lady Davy ar- rived at Rome from England, with a copy of the second edition of Salmonia, which he received with peculiar pleasure. After some weeks of melancholy dalliance with the balmy spring air of the Campagna, the Albula Lake, the hills of Ti- voli and the banks of the Tiber, they travelled qui- etly round by Florence, Genoa, Turin, slowly threading the flowery sweet-scented alpine valleys, to Geneva: WHERE HE SUDDENLY EHPIRED. It was three hours beyond midnight: his servant called his brother: his brother was in time to close his eyes. It was the 29th of May, in 1829. They buried him at Geneva. In truth Geneva buried him herself, with serious and respectful ceremonial. A simple monument stands at the head of the hospitable grave. There is a tablet to his memory on the walls of Westminster Abbey. There is a monument at Penzance. His public services of plate, his imperial vases, his foreign prizes, his royal medals, shall be handed down with triumph to his collateral posterity, as trophies won from the deeps of nescience. But his WORK; designed by his own genius; executed by his own hand, tracery and all; and every single stone sig- nalized by his own private mark, indelible, char- acteristic and inimitable; H15 WORK is the only adequate record of his name. How deeply are its foundations rooted in space, aiid how lasting its materials for time! It is solid, yet its substantial utility is almost everywhere flowered into beauty. It is mingled in its style, but it is unique. It is the tomb, not of the palsy-stricken body, which has returned to the dust as it was, but of the em- pyreal soul that is with God who gave it, so that the erection knows no place, and can be assimi- lated to our conceptions only by the figures of fancy and imagination. The monumental fane, then, which this great investigator has raised in honor of nature, for the benefit of man and to his own glory, is not a ca- mera-obscura, like the Work without a Parallel of old Beccher, or the Foundations of Chemistry by Stahl; in which the figures are but dim and upside-down, though lying luminous and beautiful in the midst of the surrounding darkness: nor yet a camera-lucida, like the faultless work of his co- temporary Wollaston; where the images are almost painfully distinct, minute and suffused with the light of day. It is not a crystal edifice, like the palace of ice upon the Neva, as is the system of Lavoisier; not yet dissolved by the glowing and ascending year: nor a mosque, like the heretical but prophetic Chemical Statics of the metaphysical Berthollet; in which it will ere long be manifest that more is meant than meets the eye. It is not a European museum, like the substantial fabric which the long days work of Berzelius has slowly builded over his future bed of rest, and filled with all that is rich and rare from Icelandic cauldrons, 16 GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETYPARIS ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. Ural mines, Tropical woods, and the heights of Andes and the ilimmaleli, for the useful instruc- tion of mankind nor a half-lit, unfinished but maguifleent orrery, like the New Philosophy of DALTON, in which, when the undiscovered planets and the unexpected comets shall have been found, and when the central idea shall have been kindled into a blaze of light and force by the Prometheus of another day, the movements and the sheen of all the stars shall be held up to the astonished eye as one completed microcosm of creation. Yet there is something of all these together in the work of the London Discoverer. There are the neighboring shadows of Stahl, and, as it appears from the researches of Faraday, something also like the inverted representation of the truth. There is the brightness of XVollaston, in the great facts he has won from their enchanted holds. There is the sound logic, if not the translucent conception, of Lavoisier. There is the breadth, if not the subtlety, of Berthollet. There is the wealth, both of matter and resources, without the infallible accuracy of Berzelius. And, last of all, there is the independence, and the essential vitality of glorious promise for posterity, of our own im- mortal Dalton: but over the great proportions of the fabric there is shed that brilliancy which is all his own, a lustre partly derived from the acciden- tal character of his particular discoveries, and partly from the original endowment of his mind, by that only potentate, whose minister he was. Such is the elaborate and richly laden mausoleum of HUMPHRY DAVY. Dana, and fearing for the proximity of such trou- blesome neighbors, erected a strong dyke at the point where this river diverges from the Syr. The communication thus cut off, the existing waters soon flowed off into the Aral, leaving a dry bed, which, in 1820, was converted into a thick forest of Saxaout (Anabasis Amadendra.) M. Khanikoff was informed by the late Capt. Conolly, that he had seen with his o~vn eyes the dyke above mentioned, and had examined it in all its details. The last European traveller who s~tw the Taughi- Dana, still a well-supplied stream, was the inter preter of the Russian boundary commission ot~ Orenburg, who crossed the stream in 1809, and again in 1810. The subject occasioned much conversation, and General Monteith said, that the communication with the Caspian of a branch of the Gins, now dry, had been cut off in a way precisely similar to that of the Tanghi-Daria.Extracts were also read from a paper by Capt. Postans, be- ing a description of rocks in Scinde.Athencrum. PARIS ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. Oct. 28.A great portion of this sitting was occupied with the reading of a report by M. Arago on the travels in Abyssinia of Messrs. Galinier and Ferret, which were undertaken in 1839, on the order of the minister of war, who confided to these young officers the mission of studying the habits, manners, customs, religion, and political institu- tions of the country. The report made by M. ____________________________ Arago of the results of their observations is of too great length for us to attempt an analysis; nor GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. would it, perhaps, interest the general reader.A report was read on a communication received, in Nov. 1l.R. I. Miirchison, Esq., President, in July last, from M. Hardy, the director of the Cen- the chair.This being the first meeting of the tral Nursery at Algiers, respecting the culture session, the evening was occupied with reading there of the somniferous poppy, and various other extracts from letters received during the vacation : productions of warm latitudes. It appears, from among these, one from Capt. H ames, political the statement of M. Hardy, that he obtained from agent at Aden, contains copies of some Hamy- a hectare, (about two English acres and a half,) antic inscriptions, which that officer succeeded in of land, sown with the poppy-seed, 23 kilogrammes obtaining, and which are now in process of being and 268 grammes of opium, which he estimates at deciphered by the Rev. Mr. Forster. Capt. 30 fr. per kilo. ; 11 hectolitres of seed, estimated Haines has also sent home tIme second part of his at 30 fin, per hectolitre, and 690 stalks, valued to- Memoirs on the South-East coast of Arabi. ~ gether at 69 fin., making a total of 1,097 fr., amid A letter was also read from the Rev. Mr. Brock- yielding a profit of 167 fin. M. Hardy does not man, who was at Beyrout on the 5th Oct. on his seem to think this profit a remunerating one. M. way to Arabia, the seat of his intended explora- Hardy informs us that not only do the productions tions; at that date he was well.Count A. Ra- of warm latitudes thrive in Algeria, but also those nuzzi wrote to inform the society of the establish- of almost every climate; but he mentions partico. ment at Bologna of a geographical association. larly the mulberry, the olive-tree, tobacco, sugar, A communication from Lieut. Ruston, late of the indigo, coffee, sesame, and all the fruits of Europe. 89th Regt., informed the society of his intention The sesame, great quantities of which have of late to start shortly on an exploratory journey into the years been imported at Marseilles from Egypt, for interior of Africa. He intends landing at the the manufacture of oil, seems to have given a much. mouth of the Orange River, and proceeding thence better return in Algeria than the poppy. The oil inland.Many other letters were read, the most obtained from this seed is inferior to good olive oil,, interesting of which, however, as assuming the but it is superior to that oil for the manufacture of form of a memoir, was from M. A. de Khanikoff, soap.M. Pauger informed the Academy of a new on the now dried-up Taughi-Dania, formerly a and successful means of dressing suppurating Deltic branch of the Syr or Jaxantes, flowing into wounds. He applies to the wound a strong solu- the Lake Anal. The first intelligence of the des- tion of gum arabic, and then covers it with gold- iccation of this branch of the Syr was brought to beaters-skin.A communication was received Europe by Baron Mayendorff and Prof. Evers- from Messrs. Latoun and Colignon on some ex- mann, who attributed the phenomenon to evapora- periments, with a view to ascertain the character tion. M. Khanikoff not only proves that this of the blood in inflammatory cases. They state could not be the case, but solves the problem at that both arterial and venous blood in a state of once by the following fact In the year 1815, the febnile inflammation presents an augmentation of Khokanians, informed of the intention of the Khi- fibnine, but this, they say, is the consequence and vans to plant colonies on the banks of the Tanghi-~ not the cause of the disease.A note was received: XXXI V. LIVING AGE. VOL. IV. 2

GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETYPARIS ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. Ural mines, Tropical woods, and the heights of Andes and the ilimmaleli, for the useful instruc- tion of mankind nor a half-lit, unfinished but maguifleent orrery, like the New Philosophy of DALTON, in which, when the undiscovered planets and the unexpected comets shall have been found, and when the central idea shall have been kindled into a blaze of light and force by the Prometheus of another day, the movements and the sheen of all the stars shall be held up to the astonished eye as one completed microcosm of creation. Yet there is something of all these together in the work of the London Discoverer. There are the neighboring shadows of Stahl, and, as it appears from the researches of Faraday, something also like the inverted representation of the truth. There is the brightness of XVollaston, in the great facts he has won from their enchanted holds. There is the sound logic, if not the translucent conception, of Lavoisier. There is the breadth, if not the subtlety, of Berthollet. There is the wealth, both of matter and resources, without the infallible accuracy of Berzelius. And, last of all, there is the independence, and the essential vitality of glorious promise for posterity, of our own im- mortal Dalton: but over the great proportions of the fabric there is shed that brilliancy which is all his own, a lustre partly derived from the acciden- tal character of his particular discoveries, and partly from the original endowment of his mind, by that only potentate, whose minister he was. Such is the elaborate and richly laden mausoleum of HUMPHRY DAVY. Dana, and fearing for the proximity of such trou- blesome neighbors, erected a strong dyke at the point where this river diverges from the Syr. The communication thus cut off, the existing waters soon flowed off into the Aral, leaving a dry bed, which, in 1820, was converted into a thick forest of Saxaout (Anabasis Amadendra.) M. Khanikoff was informed by the late Capt. Conolly, that he had seen with his o~vn eyes the dyke above mentioned, and had examined it in all its details. The last European traveller who s~tw the Taughi- Dana, still a well-supplied stream, was the inter preter of the Russian boundary commission ot~ Orenburg, who crossed the stream in 1809, and again in 1810. The subject occasioned much conversation, and General Monteith said, that the communication with the Caspian of a branch of the Gins, now dry, had been cut off in a way precisely similar to that of the Tanghi-Daria.Extracts were also read from a paper by Capt. Postans, be- ing a description of rocks in Scinde.Athencrum. PARIS ACADEMY OF SCIENCES. Oct. 28.A great portion of this sitting was occupied with the reading of a report by M. Arago on the travels in Abyssinia of Messrs. Galinier and Ferret, which were undertaken in 1839, on the order of the minister of war, who confided to these young officers the mission of studying the habits, manners, customs, religion, and political institu- tions of the country. The report made by M. ____________________________ Arago of the results of their observations is of too great length for us to attempt an analysis; nor GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY. would it, perhaps, interest the general reader.A report was read on a communication received, in Nov. 1l.R. I. Miirchison, Esq., President, in July last, from M. Hardy, the director of the Cen- the chair.This being the first meeting of the tral Nursery at Algiers, respecting the culture session, the evening was occupied with reading there of the somniferous poppy, and various other extracts from letters received during the vacation : productions of warm latitudes. It appears, from among these, one from Capt. H ames, political the statement of M. Hardy, that he obtained from agent at Aden, contains copies of some Hamy- a hectare, (about two English acres and a half,) antic inscriptions, which that officer succeeded in of land, sown with the poppy-seed, 23 kilogrammes obtaining, and which are now in process of being and 268 grammes of opium, which he estimates at deciphered by the Rev. Mr. Forster. Capt. 30 fr. per kilo. ; 11 hectolitres of seed, estimated Haines has also sent home tIme second part of his at 30 fin, per hectolitre, and 690 stalks, valued to- Memoirs on the South-East coast of Arabi. ~ gether at 69 fin., making a total of 1,097 fr., amid A letter was also read from the Rev. Mr. Brock- yielding a profit of 167 fin. M. Hardy does not man, who was at Beyrout on the 5th Oct. on his seem to think this profit a remunerating one. M. way to Arabia, the seat of his intended explora- Hardy informs us that not only do the productions tions; at that date he was well.Count A. Ra- of warm latitudes thrive in Algeria, but also those nuzzi wrote to inform the society of the establish- of almost every climate; but he mentions partico. ment at Bologna of a geographical association. larly the mulberry, the olive-tree, tobacco, sugar, A communication from Lieut. Ruston, late of the indigo, coffee, sesame, and all the fruits of Europe. 89th Regt., informed the society of his intention The sesame, great quantities of which have of late to start shortly on an exploratory journey into the years been imported at Marseilles from Egypt, for interior of Africa. He intends landing at the the manufacture of oil, seems to have given a much. mouth of the Orange River, and proceeding thence better return in Algeria than the poppy. The oil inland.Many other letters were read, the most obtained from this seed is inferior to good olive oil,, interesting of which, however, as assuming the but it is superior to that oil for the manufacture of form of a memoir, was from M. A. de Khanikoff, soap.M. Pauger informed the Academy of a new on the now dried-up Taughi-Dania, formerly a and successful means of dressing suppurating Deltic branch of the Syr or Jaxantes, flowing into wounds. He applies to the wound a strong solu- the Lake Anal. The first intelligence of the des- tion of gum arabic, and then covers it with gold- iccation of this branch of the Syr was brought to beaters-skin.A communication was received Europe by Baron Mayendorff and Prof. Evers- from Messrs. Latoun and Colignon on some ex- mann, who attributed the phenomenon to evapora- periments, with a view to ascertain the character tion. M. Khanikoff not only proves that this of the blood in inflammatory cases. They state could not be the case, but solves the problem at that both arterial and venous blood in a state of once by the following fact In the year 1815, the febnile inflammation presents an augmentation of Khokanians, informed of the intention of the Khi- fibnine, but this, they say, is the consequence and vans to plant colonies on the banks of the Tanghi-~ not the cause of the disease.A note was received: XXXI V. LIVING AGE. VOL. IV. 2 GOSSIP (YF TflX ATHEN~UM. from M. Devergie, in reply to the assertion of Messrs. Danger and Flandin, that there is neither copper nor lead to be found in the human body in its normal state. M. IDevergie declares, that he and many others have ascertained the reverse of the statement, and that if the result of their experi- ments has been such as they represent, it must have been becanse they were not performed in a proper way. Galignanis Messenger. GOSSIP OF THE ATHEN~UM. THE crowning stone of the Scott Monument, in Edinburgh, whose foundation was laid upwards of four years ago, was placed, with Masonic ceremony, on the 26th nIt. this point in the proceedings hav- ing been attained in a space of time exceeding, by only about eighteen months, the entire period be- tween the laying the first stone and the inaugura- tion of the London Royal Exchange. Tb egreat novelist contrived, single-handed, to erect several monuments for himself in an equal space of time; and our Cheshire brethren are likely to build a city in little more. We are not yet within sight of the inauguration of the Scott Monument. Our northern neighbors are said, however, to be slow but sure ; and, having made good their title to the imputation contained in the saw, we will reckon upon the promise. Like a bank-note cut in two, the first half of the proverb has come safe to hand on the present occasion, and we will thank them for the remainder at their convenience. Some hopes are expressedbut under distinct protest, that the inauguration may take place on the 15th of August in next year, the anniversary ~day of the poets birth, and the fifth since the ioundation of the monument was laid. The pro- ttesters ask another year; and we think they will ~get it,for the statue is not begun. The block of marble for the work was only unshipped a few days ago; and will require, it is said, twenty- Tfive horses to draw it to Edinburgh. If its chis- elling is to keep any relation to the rate of progress bestowed on the whole affair, all the kings horses and all the kings men will not put it on its pedestal next August. FROM Munich, we learn that the king has order- ed the formation of a special school of painting on glassand the construction of a large workshop, to be entirely dedicated to that branch of art, and in which all who pursue it shall be admitted to labor. IT seems difficult to pronounce what are the fol- lies and excesses of former days against whose ,reeurrence we can venture to affirm confidently that we are secure, in the improved knowledge and enlarged sympathies of the times. The alleged return in the direction of Romanism, which is as- .cribed to a party in the University of Oxford, has been met by a resuscitation of the old monster of Iconoclasm; and the artistic and antiquarian labors of the Camden Society are actually denounced as having the inspiration of the beastThe Rev. Francis Close, of Cheltenham, on Monday last, caused the walls of the town to be posted with large bills announcing that, on the 5th of Novem- ber, he would preach a sermon against the Cam- Aen Society, in which he would prove that the restoration of churches is the restoration of Pope- ry ! and on that day the church of St. Marys, of which the Rev, gentleman is incumbent, was evowded to overfiowing~to hear a sermon, in the course of which the preacher observed that the Camden Society had openly became the allies of the Puseyites,~and as there was tractarianism doctrinal at Oxford, so was there tractarianism artistic at Cambridgethe one a written Roman- ism here, the other a sculpture one there. The Puseyites were, he said, introducing strange forms and ceremonies into the church; and the Camden Society were building and remodeling our churches, for the express purpose of restoring images, and preparing symbols for the adoption of the tractarian party at Oxfordin other words, erecting temples of puseyism throughout the land in order to propagate the Oxford heresy. If the religion of the present day was pure and undefiled, it were worse than useless to restore our charches fit only for the worship of the dark ages, hap- pily passed away, & c.Are we returning, in the 19th century, to the times of Masters Stubs and Prynnel THE announcements of the coming season have more than usual interest. We select from Mr. Murrays list Correspondence and Dispatches of the Great Duke of Marlborough, from 1702 to 1712, edited by the Right Hon. Sir George~ Murray. The invaluable documents, from which this work is to be printed, were found some time since in boxes supposed to contain deeds and papers referring to the Marlborough estate. They con- sist of letters and dispatches of the Duke, toge- ther with the letters also, almost equally numer- ous, of his secretary, Mr. Cardonnell, and a journal written by his Graces chaplain, Dr. Hare, after- wards Bishop of Chichester, and are contained in 28 MS. volumes in folio, being the same into which the letters were transcribed at the time of the originals ocing dispatched ; and it is remarka- ble that these authentic sources of information were unknown to Archdeacon Coxe and all others who have written on the life of this illustrious soldier. Another work which will have great interest, if fully and faithfully compiled, is Memoirs and Correspondence of Licut. Gen. Sir Hudson Lowe, arranged and edited by his son, Hudson Lowe, Esq., including the public and personal proceedings during the detention of Na- poleon at St. Helena. To these we may add Voyage of Discovery and Research in the Southern and Antarctic Seas, during the years 183943, by Captain Sir James Clark Ross, Kut., R. N. Correspondence of the Right Hon- orable Richard Hill, Envoy Extraordinary from the Court of St. James to the Duke of Savoy, in the Reign of Queen Anne, edited by the Rev. William Blackley, B.A. England under the Anglo-Saxon Kings, from the German of Dr. J. M. Lappenberg, by Benjamin Thorpe, F.S.A.: with additions and corrections. The Life of the late Lord Hill, from his JournitAs, and other au- thentic sources, supplied by his Family and Friends, by Rev. Edwin Sidney, A.M.and as additions to the Colonial Library, A Life of the Great Cond6, by Lord Mahon. Memoirs of Father Matteo Ripa, during Thirteen Years Residence at the Court of Pekin, in the Ser- vice of the Emperor of China, by Fortunato Prandi. From Messrs. Longmnns list, we select the following 18

GOSSIP (YF TflX ATHEN~UM. from M. Devergie, in reply to the assertion of Messrs. Danger and Flandin, that there is neither copper nor lead to be found in the human body in its normal state. M. IDevergie declares, that he and many others have ascertained the reverse of the statement, and that if the result of their experi- ments has been such as they represent, it must have been becanse they were not performed in a proper way. Galignanis Messenger. GOSSIP OF THE ATHEN~UM. THE crowning stone of the Scott Monument, in Edinburgh, whose foundation was laid upwards of four years ago, was placed, with Masonic ceremony, on the 26th nIt. this point in the proceedings hav- ing been attained in a space of time exceeding, by only about eighteen months, the entire period be- tween the laying the first stone and the inaugura- tion of the London Royal Exchange. Tb egreat novelist contrived, single-handed, to erect several monuments for himself in an equal space of time; and our Cheshire brethren are likely to build a city in little more. We are not yet within sight of the inauguration of the Scott Monument. Our northern neighbors are said, however, to be slow but sure ; and, having made good their title to the imputation contained in the saw, we will reckon upon the promise. Like a bank-note cut in two, the first half of the proverb has come safe to hand on the present occasion, and we will thank them for the remainder at their convenience. Some hopes are expressedbut under distinct protest, that the inauguration may take place on the 15th of August in next year, the anniversary ~day of the poets birth, and the fifth since the ioundation of the monument was laid. The pro- ttesters ask another year; and we think they will ~get it,for the statue is not begun. The block of marble for the work was only unshipped a few days ago; and will require, it is said, twenty- Tfive horses to draw it to Edinburgh. If its chis- elling is to keep any relation to the rate of progress bestowed on the whole affair, all the kings horses and all the kings men will not put it on its pedestal next August. FROM Munich, we learn that the king has order- ed the formation of a special school of painting on glassand the construction of a large workshop, to be entirely dedicated to that branch of art, and in which all who pursue it shall be admitted to labor. IT seems difficult to pronounce what are the fol- lies and excesses of former days against whose ,reeurrence we can venture to affirm confidently that we are secure, in the improved knowledge and enlarged sympathies of the times. The alleged return in the direction of Romanism, which is as- .cribed to a party in the University of Oxford, has been met by a resuscitation of the old monster of Iconoclasm; and the artistic and antiquarian labors of the Camden Society are actually denounced as having the inspiration of the beastThe Rev. Francis Close, of Cheltenham, on Monday last, caused the walls of the town to be posted with large bills announcing that, on the 5th of Novem- ber, he would preach a sermon against the Cam- Aen Society, in which he would prove that the restoration of churches is the restoration of Pope- ry ! and on that day the church of St. Marys, of which the Rev, gentleman is incumbent, was evowded to overfiowing~to hear a sermon, in the course of which the preacher observed that the Camden Society had openly became the allies of the Puseyites,~and as there was tractarianism doctrinal at Oxford, so was there tractarianism artistic at Cambridgethe one a written Roman- ism here, the other a sculpture one there. The Puseyites were, he said, introducing strange forms and ceremonies into the church; and the Camden Society were building and remodeling our churches, for the express purpose of restoring images, and preparing symbols for the adoption of the tractarian party at Oxfordin other words, erecting temples of puseyism throughout the land in order to propagate the Oxford heresy. If the religion of the present day was pure and undefiled, it were worse than useless to restore our charches fit only for the worship of the dark ages, hap- pily passed away, & c.Are we returning, in the 19th century, to the times of Masters Stubs and Prynnel THE announcements of the coming season have more than usual interest. We select from Mr. Murrays list Correspondence and Dispatches of the Great Duke of Marlborough, from 1702 to 1712, edited by the Right Hon. Sir George~ Murray. The invaluable documents, from which this work is to be printed, were found some time since in boxes supposed to contain deeds and papers referring to the Marlborough estate. They con- sist of letters and dispatches of the Duke, toge- ther with the letters also, almost equally numer- ous, of his secretary, Mr. Cardonnell, and a journal written by his Graces chaplain, Dr. Hare, after- wards Bishop of Chichester, and are contained in 28 MS. volumes in folio, being the same into which the letters were transcribed at the time of the originals ocing dispatched ; and it is remarka- ble that these authentic sources of information were unknown to Archdeacon Coxe and all others who have written on the life of this illustrious soldier. Another work which will have great interest, if fully and faithfully compiled, is Memoirs and Correspondence of Licut. Gen. Sir Hudson Lowe, arranged and edited by his son, Hudson Lowe, Esq., including the public and personal proceedings during the detention of Na- poleon at St. Helena. To these we may add Voyage of Discovery and Research in the Southern and Antarctic Seas, during the years 183943, by Captain Sir James Clark Ross, Kut., R. N. Correspondence of the Right Hon- orable Richard Hill, Envoy Extraordinary from the Court of St. James to the Duke of Savoy, in the Reign of Queen Anne, edited by the Rev. William Blackley, B.A. England under the Anglo-Saxon Kings, from the German of Dr. J. M. Lappenberg, by Benjamin Thorpe, F.S.A.: with additions and corrections. The Life of the late Lord Hill, from his JournitAs, and other au- thentic sources, supplied by his Family and Friends, by Rev. Edwin Sidney, A.M.and as additions to the Colonial Library, A Life of the Great Cond6, by Lord Mahon. Memoirs of Father Matteo Ripa, during Thirteen Years Residence at the Court of Pekin, in the Ser- vice of the Emperor of China, by Fortunato Prandi. From Messrs. Longmnns list, we select the following 18 GOSSIP OF THS ATHEN~EU1V1. The Life, Progresses, and Rebellion of James, Duke of Moninouth, & c., to his Capture and Exe- cution, by George Roberts Rankes History of the Reformation, translated by Sarah Austin. ~ Travels in India, and the adjacent Countries, in 1842 and 1843, by Capt Leopold You Orlich. Translated from the German, by H. Evans Lloyd, Esq. Correspondence of John Fourth Duke of Bedford, selected from the Originals at Woburn Abbey. Third and concluding volume, with an Introduction by Lord John Russell. The His- tory of Great Britain and its Various Races, from the earliest period to the Norman Conquest; ac- cording to Celtic Views, and with reference to Cel- tic as well as Classicaal and Teutonic Antiqitities, by the venerable Archdeacon Williams, M.A. The History of Society in England during the Middle Ages, by Thomas Wright, Esq., M.A. Mr. Moxon announces The Life and Letters of Thomas Campbell, edited by Dr. Beattie, one of his executors. Mr. Smith The Curiosities of Heraldry, by M. A. Lower. Speculations on the Histury of Play- ing Cards, by W. A. Chatto. Messrs. Chapman & Hall England in the Reign of Henry VIII., by J. Foster. Zoe, the History of Two Lives, by Miss G. E. Jewsbury, and Chimes for Christ- mas, by Mr. Dickens. Messrs. Madden Journal of a March from Delhi to Caubul , by Lieut. Barr. THE Paris papers mention the death, at P6ronne, of M. Laisney, a printer in that townwho is a sort of notable, as having stood god-father to the genius of the poet B6ranger. To his printing office, the poet was aplirenticed in his youth; and of his master he himself says, that baffled in the attempt to teach his pupil orthography, he directed his taste to poesy, gave him lessons in versifica- tion, and corrected his earliest essays. FRENCH PRINTs.A question of importance to print-sellers has been raised by the customs offi- cers, with respect to the duty to be charged ~n prints published in France, and accompanied by letter-press in illustration of the engravings. A case, containing upwards of 50 numbers of a work illustrative of the Chateau dEu and of Her Ma- jestys visit to the King of the French (being, it is understood, a copy of the album presented by Louis Philippe to the Queen,) each number con- taining six engravings, and accompanied by two pages of letter press in the English language de- scriptive of the prints, has recently been detained by the officers as liable to the duty of five per cent. as hooks; it being considered, that being bound slightly together, or rather stitched, as it is term- ed, and accompanied by a descriptive account, it destroyed their claim to being termed simply prints, and gave them the character of books. Orders have, however, been issued for the same to be delivered as prints, the letter-press being merely descriptive of them, duty free, and directions have been given to the officers to govern themselves in future, where the letter-press is simply descriptive of the engraving, and does not contain any histor- ical or statistical account accordingly. OF the two bronze equestrian statues of the Duke of Orleans, from the model of the sculptor 19 Marochetti, the one for Algiers has been success- fully cast by M. Soyer, and that fur the Carroussel, in Paris, is cast with the exception of the horse. Both are of the bronze furnished by the cannon taken at Algiers, and each is of the weight of 16,000 pounds. The prince is represented in the full unifurm of a lieutenant-general, the left hand holding the reins of a stately horse, and the right his drawn sword. The monument is fifteen feet in height. In M. Soyers work-shop is the mode- of another grand equestrian statue, waiting to be also cast in bronze,that of William the Taciturn, Stadtholder of the Netherlands, made by the Count de Niewerkerque, for the Hague. At Falaise, a subscription has been opened for the erection of a statue of William the Conqueror, who was, our readers know, a native of that town :while at Tours, one of the finest of its historical monuments, the Abbey-church of St. Julien, of the date of the twelfth century, and in perfect preservation, though serving just now as coach-house and stables, is offered fur sale or hire. THE inauguration of the monument erected by the Geographical Society of France, to the memory of the late Admiral Dumont dUrville, took place, on the 1st inst., at the Cemetery of the South, according to the intention which we had already announced, and in the presence of a crowd of sym- pathizing spectators. The crown was laid upon the bust of the celebrated navigator by one of the companions of his labors and perils in the cause of discovery, a brother officer of the Astrolahe. THE Diario di Rome mentions that the public of that capital are flocking to the Quirinal palace, to examine two rich works, the gift of the King of the French to his Holiness the Pope, which the latter has placed provisionally there for their in spection. They are very splendid specimens of the royal manufactures of France; one from the S~vres manufactory, being a copy, the size of the original, of Raphaels celebrated picture represent- ing the Holy Family, and known as the Virgin with the Veil. This picture in porcelain is the work of Madame Jacquotot, and its rich frame of gilt-bronze is relieved by various ornaments exe- cuted from the designs of M. Klagrnann. The arms of the sovereign pontiff, painted in enamel, crown the frame, which is adorned with four me- dallions, inclosing so niany basreliefs in porcelain, representing religious subjects. The other work is a large tapestry from the Gobelins, representing St. Stephen pressing to his heart the palm of martyrdom, and inclosed in a magnificent frame of wood, gilt, also surmounted by the pontifical arms. THE king of Prussia has commissioned the Bavarian court painter, Kaulbach, to paint six large pictures, representing the most remarkable events in the history of the world. We think the artist will have a difficulty in selecting his subjects, on such an assumption and under such a limitation; and the first which he has chosen, The Fall of Babylon, should belong to a larger series than six. The Revue de Paris, speaking of the Prussian monarchs t~onstant endeavors to attract to the common centre of his capital all the men of Ger- many illustrious in letters, mentions a familiar visit recently paid by that prince to the poet Tieck (one of his pensioners,) unannounced, and at a late hour of the evening. It is probable that he caught GOSSIP OF THE ATHENJEUM. the poet in his night-cap: at any rate, his Majesty found him, it is said, in dishabille. Seeing the hards confusion, his Majesty hastened to say, Pardon me, Herr Tieck, for having called on you in my great coat. After all, however, these familiarities of the elephant are unwieldy things. AMONG the honors paid, on the continent, to distinguished men, we may mention that M. Victor Cousin has been elected a foreign member of the Royal Academy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres in Stockholm; that M. Thalberg has been ap- pointed a member of the Academy of Fine Arts in Naples; and that the astronomer William Beer, the brother of Meyerbeer, has been named, by the king of Denmark, knight of the Order of the Dan- nebrog, and by the king of the Belgians, knight of the Order of Leopold. The Revue de Paris complains that the honors due to Goethe, on the inauguration of his statue at Frankfort, were griev- ously curtailed, and the ceremony shorn of its most appropriate splendors. The universities, it says, had sent no representatives to the ceremony; nor was the actual literature of Germany personated at this festival of poetry conscious, says the Re- vise, of its own mediocrity, it feared, perhaps, to stand before the great image of Goethe ; while of the friends who should have helped to give in- terest to the scene, Tieck was kept away by age, Wieland by his political speculations, and Schwan- thaler, the sculptor of the statue, by illness. Mas. HOFLAND, known, for so many years, as the writer of fictions having a moral and educational purpose, and who has done good and earnest ser- vice in a cause, since better understood and more ably promoted,died, at Richmond, on Saturday last, at the advanced age of seventy-four. We may mention, too, the death, on the 12th inst., at the age of only forty-four, of Mr. William Grieve, to whom the lovers of dramatic spectacle have owed so much, for the scenic splendors which have long been among the theatrical temptations at Drury Lane, and, more recently, at the Kings Theatre. A MS. of one of Shakspeares plays has at length been discovered : a contemporary MS. of the two parts of Henry IV. made into one. It was found in the charter chest of an old Kentish family, and is said to exhibit some additional scenes, and a variety of important readings. Mr. Halliwell has the MS. in his hands, and is to edit it forthwith for the Shakspeare Society, as their first publica- tion for the ensuing year. Mr. Collier is under- stood to have seen it, and to have collated it with the printed text. In France, a discovery has been made, at Clermont, by the librarian Mr. Gonod, of fifty unpublished letters of the Abb6 de Ranc6, the celebrated reformer of La Trappe, whose life has been published, from the pen of Chateaubri- and. AT Angers, the Comte de Quatrebarbes is print- ing a magnificent edition, in four volumes, of the collected works of King R6n6, with portraits, & c., the proceeds of which he destines to the erection of a statue to the royal poet. The model of the statue has been already made by M. David, of the Institute, (who is himself an Angevin,) and is now exhibiting in the Hotel de Ville of that ancient capital of Anjou. M. OaFiLA has lately visited London, for the purpose of examining the anatomical and patho logical collections in our capital, with a view to the creation of a new museum at the school of medicine in the French metropolis; for which the valuable collection of Dupuytren will form the basis. FaoM St. Petersburgh we learn, that the gov- erning council of Kiov has appointed a committee of four learned Russians, to explore the Ukraine, Podolia and Volhynia, for the purpose of copying, from the archives of the various communes and convents, all records of any historical importance. It is expected that this labor will yield a rich har- vest of new facts relating to the history of the Cossacks. THE Revue de Paris says, that the poet B6ranger writes yet, though he ~vill not publish; and has by him a volume of very remarkable songs, which Chateaubriand, Lamartine and Lainennais have vainly urged him to send to press. The poet has determined that they shall not see the light until after his death. He is said to be engaged, too, on a work of a very different character, a National Dictionary, which, also, is to be reserved for post- humous publication. A saying is attributed, by the literary gossip of our neighbors, to this bard, in reference to the present abuse of the Feujileton in France. Madame Amiable Tastu compared this portion of the daily journals to the revolutionary conscription, which absorbed the finest youth of France, as, according to the lady, the feujileton absorbs its most promising talents. With this difference, said the celebrated song-writer, that out of the conscription came great generals and marshals of France, while the feuilleton has hitherto produced only the common soldiers of the press. ATMosPmsaIc LocoMoTivEs.The Paris papers mention that M. Andraud, who has hitherto been encouraged and supported in all his experiments by the government, has applied for a concession of about two leagues near Paris, on the Saint- Denis line, connecting some of the villages with the other railroads. M. Andraud, as our readers are aware, has performed successfully some ex- periments on the Versailles railroad, (left bank,) and no doubt is entertained of his being able to re- place steam by compressed atmospheric air; but it is a question whether this can be done with economy; for, if steam power be used to compress the air, the working of locomotives on this system would be more expensive than by steam. He states, however, thathe can compress the air almost without cost, by wind or water mills; and in that case the saving would be very g!eat. Mun BATHsThe Russian journals are filled with accounts of the marvellous cures effected by the mud baths of the lake of Eupatoria, in the Crimea. This saline water, six versts only from the Black Sea, and forty-five from the Russian town of Eu- patorma, dries up during the summer heats, leaving a thick, stagnant slime, in which the sick, whom medicine has failed to cure, plunge their afflicted bodies; and in its hot mire their pores distend, ab- sorbing the saline gases, which are said to have a wonderful virtue for the purification of the blood. At the village on the lake, called Sak, which is frequented by the bathers, a magnificent hotel has been erected, offering every luxury, as an accom- paniment to the mud bath; and among the Russian fashionables, the movemade up of the love of 20 excitement, and the superstitious search after health, which, in all countries, carries men from the Abarias and Pharpars at their door to some distant Jordan,is all, just now, in the direction of the lake of Eupatoria. TIlE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH: ITS CONTEMPLATED EXTENsIONITs NATIONAL IMPORTANCE. THE contemplated extension of the Magnetic Telegraph by private enterprize, from New York to Boston, may be hailed as a stride in the march of intelligence of no ordinary importance. It is one of those triumphs of the arts of peace that knit our people in closer relations of union and brother- hood. The Magnetic Telegraph annihilates dis- tance. So complete is this annihilation that the newspapers at Baltimore have made arrangements to report the proceedings of congress by telegraph, so as to have the intelligence from the capital (40 miles distant) as soon even as the Washington papers. A like effect will happen when the line is established between New York and Boston. The news from ll~urope brought by the Boston packet will be known in New York (220 miles distant) as soon as it is in Boston. And so like- wise when the line is completed between Albany and Buffalo, which we understand is in contempla- tion. Will not the telegraph literslly render our people one family ?for when it is fully extended throughout the Union, our brethren in Louisiana will receive intelligence from their brethren in New York and Maine, almost as quick as if they were seated around the same boardwithin the sound of each others voices. Perhaps it is not figurative to say that hundreds of miles will then seem no more than previously as many hundred feet. All know the wonderful influence rail-roads have exercised in drawing distant parts of the country together, and in breaking up the preju- dices and asperities of sections. Utica and Syra- cuse now almost seem a part of Albany. A few years since they were afar off. The iron horse which has diminished the time in travelling, has brought about this revolution, but still more re- markable is the telegraph. Under its operation New Orleans will be nearer to New York, so far as regards the transmission of intelligence, than Albany is now. It will certainly seem odd, but such will most assuredly be the case, that the result of the elec- tion in New Orleans will be known in New York, on the same evening. And thus when it is ex- tended to all our principal cities, the presidential election will be known throughout the Union on the very day the votes are cast. This magical transmission of intelligence would relieve the anxieties, the doubts and the labors of thousands who now fritter away their time weeks after the election in ascertaining the result in other states. The presidents message could also be thus transmitted from Washington to Maine or Louisi- ana a few hours after its delivery. It would be an express far exceeding in fleetness and certainty, the never tiring locomotive. It is impossible to enter into a tithe of the results which will flow from the adoption of this wonder- ful agent. Good must come of it, that is cer 21 tam. While the patriot and the American who looks forward to the time when our great con- federacy shall stretch over the Mississippi and Oregon territories, embracing perhaps sixty states, some of which are separated thousands of miles, will regard this new and mighty agency in inter-. changing thoughts, sentiments and feelings, as one of the indissoluble links of firm and endur- ing union, and of making us all feel that we are still one nationwith one languageone capitol and more than all, with one heart. Albany Argus. RELATIVE DECAY OF THE SExEs.Decay in the male sex is much more rapid than in the female. In the three years ending June 30, 1840, the total number of deaths among males through- out England and Wales was 518,006, while the deaths among females were only 499,058, giving an excess of male deaths in three yearsof 18,048. After this statement, it cannot appear surprising that the number of females in any country should notably exceed the number of males. In the pres- ent time, in London, there are 996,000 females to 878,000 males, or an excess of 119,000 ladies. Coupled with this fact, and obviously depending on it, is the superior longevity of the female sex. There died throughout England ~tnd Wales, be- tween 1st July, 1839 and 30th June, 1840, 5247 females, aged 85 and upward~ whereas of the same age, there died only 3954 gentlemen, leaving what is called in the ciLy a balance in favor of the old ladies of 1293. Among the females who died, 71 had passed the age of 100, but only 40 males. There are only three diseases common to the sexes which carry off more females than males; they are consumption, cancer, and dropsy. The deaths by childbirth form but a very small fraction of the mortality of the female sex. The propor- tion is only 8 per 1000 of the total mortality; and as half a million of children are annually born in England and Wales, and scarcely 3000 deaths take place in childbirth, so there is only 1 death to 170 confinements. The researches of the registrar- general have brought to light some singular results with reference to the proportion in which acute diseases affect the two sexes. In the zymotic tribe the unjformily is quite extraordinary. Thus, out of 8194 persons dying of measles in 1840 throughout England and Wales, 4143 were males, and 4051 femalesa difference of only 92. Again, out of 17,862 persons dying of scarlet fever in the same year, 8927 were maks, 8935 were females a difference of only 8. On the other hand, it ap- pears that out of 14,806 dying of pneumonia, 8177 were males, and only 662 9 females. Out of 22,787 dying of convulsion, 12,689 were males, and only 10,098 females. The superior value of female life, which this and all statistical considerations tend to prove, and which our insurance-offices, by their variation of rates, acknowledge, is not attrib- utable to any differences in the original construc- tion of the body (for man is built of stronger ma- terials than woman ;) but first, to the smaller demand made upon her vital power during the middle period of life; secondly, to the healthier condition and temperature of the female mind; ari& thirdly, to the lesser amount of toil and anxiety which, in a highly civilized country, falls to the share of woman Dr. U. Gregory. THE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPHRELATIVE DECAY OF THE SEXES.

excitement, and the superstitious search after health, which, in all countries, carries men from the Abarias and Pharpars at their door to some distant Jordan,is all, just now, in the direction of the lake of Eupatoria. TIlE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH: ITS CONTEMPLATED EXTENsIONITs NATIONAL IMPORTANCE. THE contemplated extension of the Magnetic Telegraph by private enterprize, from New York to Boston, may be hailed as a stride in the march of intelligence of no ordinary importance. It is one of those triumphs of the arts of peace that knit our people in closer relations of union and brother- hood. The Magnetic Telegraph annihilates dis- tance. So complete is this annihilation that the newspapers at Baltimore have made arrangements to report the proceedings of congress by telegraph, so as to have the intelligence from the capital (40 miles distant) as soon even as the Washington papers. A like effect will happen when the line is established between New York and Boston. The news from ll~urope brought by the Boston packet will be known in New York (220 miles distant) as soon as it is in Boston. And so like- wise when the line is completed between Albany and Buffalo, which we understand is in contempla- tion. Will not the telegraph literslly render our people one family ?for when it is fully extended throughout the Union, our brethren in Louisiana will receive intelligence from their brethren in New York and Maine, almost as quick as if they were seated around the same boardwithin the sound of each others voices. Perhaps it is not figurative to say that hundreds of miles will then seem no more than previously as many hundred feet. All know the wonderful influence rail-roads have exercised in drawing distant parts of the country together, and in breaking up the preju- dices and asperities of sections. Utica and Syra- cuse now almost seem a part of Albany. A few years since they were afar off. The iron horse which has diminished the time in travelling, has brought about this revolution, but still more re- markable is the telegraph. Under its operation New Orleans will be nearer to New York, so far as regards the transmission of intelligence, than Albany is now. It will certainly seem odd, but such will most assuredly be the case, that the result of the elec- tion in New Orleans will be known in New York, on the same evening. And thus when it is ex- tended to all our principal cities, the presidential election will be known throughout the Union on the very day the votes are cast. This magical transmission of intelligence would relieve the anxieties, the doubts and the labors of thousands who now fritter away their time weeks after the election in ascertaining the result in other states. The presidents message could also be thus transmitted from Washington to Maine or Louisi- ana a few hours after its delivery. It would be an express far exceeding in fleetness and certainty, the never tiring locomotive. It is impossible to enter into a tithe of the results which will flow from the adoption of this wonder- ful agent. Good must come of it, that is cer 21 tam. While the patriot and the American who looks forward to the time when our great con- federacy shall stretch over the Mississippi and Oregon territories, embracing perhaps sixty states, some of which are separated thousands of miles, will regard this new and mighty agency in inter-. changing thoughts, sentiments and feelings, as one of the indissoluble links of firm and endur- ing union, and of making us all feel that we are still one nationwith one languageone capitol and more than all, with one heart. Albany Argus. RELATIVE DECAY OF THE SExEs.Decay in the male sex is much more rapid than in the female. In the three years ending June 30, 1840, the total number of deaths among males through- out England and Wales was 518,006, while the deaths among females were only 499,058, giving an excess of male deaths in three yearsof 18,048. After this statement, it cannot appear surprising that the number of females in any country should notably exceed the number of males. In the pres- ent time, in London, there are 996,000 females to 878,000 males, or an excess of 119,000 ladies. Coupled with this fact, and obviously depending on it, is the superior longevity of the female sex. There died throughout England ~tnd Wales, be- tween 1st July, 1839 and 30th June, 1840, 5247 females, aged 85 and upward~ whereas of the same age, there died only 3954 gentlemen, leaving what is called in the ciLy a balance in favor of the old ladies of 1293. Among the females who died, 71 had passed the age of 100, but only 40 males. There are only three diseases common to the sexes which carry off more females than males; they are consumption, cancer, and dropsy. The deaths by childbirth form but a very small fraction of the mortality of the female sex. The propor- tion is only 8 per 1000 of the total mortality; and as half a million of children are annually born in England and Wales, and scarcely 3000 deaths take place in childbirth, so there is only 1 death to 170 confinements. The researches of the registrar- general have brought to light some singular results with reference to the proportion in which acute diseases affect the two sexes. In the zymotic tribe the unjformily is quite extraordinary. Thus, out of 8194 persons dying of measles in 1840 throughout England and Wales, 4143 were males, and 4051 femalesa difference of only 92. Again, out of 17,862 persons dying of scarlet fever in the same year, 8927 were maks, 8935 were females a difference of only 8. On the other hand, it ap- pears that out of 14,806 dying of pneumonia, 8177 were males, and only 662 9 females. Out of 22,787 dying of convulsion, 12,689 were males, and only 10,098 females. The superior value of female life, which this and all statistical considerations tend to prove, and which our insurance-offices, by their variation of rates, acknowledge, is not attrib- utable to any differences in the original construc- tion of the body (for man is built of stronger ma- terials than woman ;) but first, to the smaller demand made upon her vital power during the middle period of life; secondly, to the healthier condition and temperature of the female mind; ari& thirdly, to the lesser amount of toil and anxiety which, in a highly civilized country, falls to the share of woman Dr. U. Gregory. THE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPHRELATIVE DECAY OF THE SEXES.

excitement, and the superstitious search after health, which, in all countries, carries men from the Abarias and Pharpars at their door to some distant Jordan,is all, just now, in the direction of the lake of Eupatoria. TIlE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPH: ITS CONTEMPLATED EXTENsIONITs NATIONAL IMPORTANCE. THE contemplated extension of the Magnetic Telegraph by private enterprize, from New York to Boston, may be hailed as a stride in the march of intelligence of no ordinary importance. It is one of those triumphs of the arts of peace that knit our people in closer relations of union and brother- hood. The Magnetic Telegraph annihilates dis- tance. So complete is this annihilation that the newspapers at Baltimore have made arrangements to report the proceedings of congress by telegraph, so as to have the intelligence from the capital (40 miles distant) as soon even as the Washington papers. A like effect will happen when the line is established between New York and Boston. The news from ll~urope brought by the Boston packet will be known in New York (220 miles distant) as soon as it is in Boston. And so like- wise when the line is completed between Albany and Buffalo, which we understand is in contempla- tion. Will not the telegraph literslly render our people one family ?for when it is fully extended throughout the Union, our brethren in Louisiana will receive intelligence from their brethren in New York and Maine, almost as quick as if they were seated around the same boardwithin the sound of each others voices. Perhaps it is not figurative to say that hundreds of miles will then seem no more than previously as many hundred feet. All know the wonderful influence rail-roads have exercised in drawing distant parts of the country together, and in breaking up the preju- dices and asperities of sections. Utica and Syra- cuse now almost seem a part of Albany. A few years since they were afar off. The iron horse which has diminished the time in travelling, has brought about this revolution, but still more re- markable is the telegraph. Under its operation New Orleans will be nearer to New York, so far as regards the transmission of intelligence, than Albany is now. It will certainly seem odd, but such will most assuredly be the case, that the result of the elec- tion in New Orleans will be known in New York, on the same evening. And thus when it is ex- tended to all our principal cities, the presidential election will be known throughout the Union on the very day the votes are cast. This magical transmission of intelligence would relieve the anxieties, the doubts and the labors of thousands who now fritter away their time weeks after the election in ascertaining the result in other states. The presidents message could also be thus transmitted from Washington to Maine or Louisi- ana a few hours after its delivery. It would be an express far exceeding in fleetness and certainty, the never tiring locomotive. It is impossible to enter into a tithe of the results which will flow from the adoption of this wonder- ful agent. Good must come of it, that is cer 21 tam. While the patriot and the American who looks forward to the time when our great con- federacy shall stretch over the Mississippi and Oregon territories, embracing perhaps sixty states, some of which are separated thousands of miles, will regard this new and mighty agency in inter-. changing thoughts, sentiments and feelings, as one of the indissoluble links of firm and endur- ing union, and of making us all feel that we are still one nationwith one languageone capitol and more than all, with one heart. Albany Argus. RELATIVE DECAY OF THE SExEs.Decay in the male sex is much more rapid than in the female. In the three years ending June 30, 1840, the total number of deaths among males through- out England and Wales was 518,006, while the deaths among females were only 499,058, giving an excess of male deaths in three yearsof 18,048. After this statement, it cannot appear surprising that the number of females in any country should notably exceed the number of males. In the pres- ent time, in London, there are 996,000 females to 878,000 males, or an excess of 119,000 ladies. Coupled with this fact, and obviously depending on it, is the superior longevity of the female sex. There died throughout England ~tnd Wales, be- tween 1st July, 1839 and 30th June, 1840, 5247 females, aged 85 and upward~ whereas of the same age, there died only 3954 gentlemen, leaving what is called in the ciLy a balance in favor of the old ladies of 1293. Among the females who died, 71 had passed the age of 100, but only 40 males. There are only three diseases common to the sexes which carry off more females than males; they are consumption, cancer, and dropsy. The deaths by childbirth form but a very small fraction of the mortality of the female sex. The propor- tion is only 8 per 1000 of the total mortality; and as half a million of children are annually born in England and Wales, and scarcely 3000 deaths take place in childbirth, so there is only 1 death to 170 confinements. The researches of the registrar- general have brought to light some singular results with reference to the proportion in which acute diseases affect the two sexes. In the zymotic tribe the unjformily is quite extraordinary. Thus, out of 8194 persons dying of measles in 1840 throughout England and Wales, 4143 were males, and 4051 femalesa difference of only 92. Again, out of 17,862 persons dying of scarlet fever in the same year, 8927 were maks, 8935 were females a difference of only 8. On the other hand, it ap- pears that out of 14,806 dying of pneumonia, 8177 were males, and only 662 9 females. Out of 22,787 dying of convulsion, 12,689 were males, and only 10,098 females. The superior value of female life, which this and all statistical considerations tend to prove, and which our insurance-offices, by their variation of rates, acknowledge, is not attrib- utable to any differences in the original construc- tion of the body (for man is built of stronger ma- terials than woman ;) but first, to the smaller demand made upon her vital power during the middle period of life; secondly, to the healthier condition and temperature of the female mind; ari& thirdly, to the lesser amount of toil and anxiety which, in a highly civilized country, falls to the share of woman Dr. U. Gregory. THE MAGNETIC TELEGRAPHRELATIVE DECAY OF THE SEXES. RELATIONSHIP. Prom Chambers Journal. RELATIONSHIP. IT is a poetical idea of old standing, that there is something in blood-relationship which is quite irrepressible, and never fails to make itself known through the thickest disguises. Thus, a child, lost in infancy, coming into the presence of its parents at a future period, is supposed always to excite in their bosoms such feelings as are sure, sooner or later, to lead to a recognition. There is more of sentimental beauty than of truth in the notion, and we have, in reality, no well authenticated case of children being affiliated in this manner, unless where there was a likeness, or some other circum- stance, to give rise to a suspicion. The fact is, that parents and children, brothers and sisters, who have never seen each other, may be brought together, and continue to meet for years, and never dream of the relationship which exists between them. They are to each other merely human beings, members of the great democracy, bearing no nat- ural ensigns of any kind to awaken those yearnings of which poetical writers speak. It will, indeed, sometimes happen that a trace of family resem- blance awakens a supposition of the relationship, and that this occasionally leads to a clearing up of the case; but of mysterious recognitions, through the force of some unseen principle, such as is usually called the voice of nature, there is assur- edly no satisfactory evidence. There is likewise a prevalent belief that relations, fully cognizant of each other, are endowed by nature with a mysterious mutual affection which nothing can ever altogether extinguish. Thus a parent expects to be necessarily, or by the mere force of nature, beloved by his children, however he may treat them. Thus brothers and sisters, uncles and nephews, aunts and nieces, all expect to find themselves held reciprocally in great regard, simply because of those relations; although it may be that they have never before been in each others company, or had any other opportunity of forming the slightest attachment. This belief is not so entirely unfounded as the preceding. Nature has given to the mother an instinctive love of her offspring, though this appears in very different degrees in different individuals, and only has force during the tender age of the children. There is also a certain feeling entertained, at all periods of life, amongst blood-relations, a certain interest in each,other, independent of habits of intimacy, being apparently a modification of the amour propre, as if we held these persons as somehow part of our- selves. But beyond these feelings, which may be admitted to be implanted by nature in our mental constitution, there is certainly nothing in consan- guinity calculated to produce attachment. There, as in other relations of life, friendship depends simply upon those conditions which are usually productive of itas old association, congeniality of disposition, community of likings and dislikings, and the interchange of civilities and benefits. I do not think it necessary to attempt to support this proposition by many arguments; for it seems to me that a little reflection will show to all rational persons that no other conclusion can be come to. The opposite notion seems to be merely one of those dreams of early mankind, which have been handed down from one generation to another, escaping challenge purely from their reaching us at a time of life when all that is offered to the mind is accepted. And I would say that this, is peculiarly one of those nurse-implanted notions which are of all others the most apt to take deep root in our minds, and afterwards to defy the efforts of reason to supplant them. Perhaps it would be found in nine out of ten of all the best intellects of the country, that they believe, without inquiry, or any just foundation for their belief, that there is a kind of witchcraft in blood-relationship, making mutual love of parent and child, of brother and brother, independent of all worldly conditions. The idea has in it some poetical beauty and inter- est; but it is nevertheless a great error, and, like all errors, liable to produce evil. It seems to me that a large part of the occasional unhappiness attending relationship, may be traced to this cause. Relations depend upon the efficacy of the supposed instinct for procuring and retaining mutual affection, and, secure in this reliance, see no occasion to cultivate friendship or attachment by the ordinary and only legitimate methods. Often parents will treat their children with coldness, or even harshness, conceiving that nevertheless the children will, or ought to, regard them with rev- erence and affection. Brothers and sisters, in like manner, trusting to an abstraction which has no existence but in the mind, often act with levity or unkindliness towards each other, expecting never- theless that the offended individual will overlook it by virtue of the instinctive regard arising from re- lationship. And generally, it may be observed that a reliance upon this supposed instinct md u9es, in domestic circles, a much less careful conduct amongst the various members, with regard to each others feelings and interests, than is to be seen amongst associates who are not akin. The parent thinks he may indulge safely in a little tyranny over h~s little ones are they not my children, and should they not therefore love me I He may be unreasonable as much as he chooses with one who ought to be ever attached; he may insult and mortify the most sensitive of natures, and yet ex- pect to see the wounded being crouch, spaniel-like, at his feet, the more loving that he has been aggrieved; he may show a general conduct in life which no one can respect; yet he will expect that his children are to be unaffected in their attach- ment by all such circumstances. Or, at the very best, the parent may take no pains to cultivate the affections of the children. Fulfilling only the most obvious duties, he may never address his young ones with a kindly word or caress, but always act towards them with the appearance, if not the reality, of indifference. And yet this man will expect to be as much beloved by his offspring, through the whole extent of their joint lives, as if he had been continually pouring benedictions and acts of kindness upon them. Here is surely an error of great magnitude, which it is most desirable to see corrected. There are, too, fathers, and even mothers, who, though fond of their children, and sufficiently anxious to advance their happiness, have, from awkwardness or some other habits of the mind, no power of showing their feelings. Perhaps they, on the contrary, take refuge from the difficulty they are under, in a hard external manner, bearing an appearance of indifference, if not of unkindliness. Here, likewise, the full stream of affection is expected to flow from th~ children: but can it do so? Can the children of such parents love them as much as if they had been in the habit, from the dawn of intelligence, of experiencing every mark of parental affection? It is evidently impossible. I have heard of a 22

RELATIONSHIP. Prom Chambers Journal. RELATIONSHIP. IT is a poetical idea of old standing, that there is something in blood-relationship which is quite irrepressible, and never fails to make itself known through the thickest disguises. Thus, a child, lost in infancy, coming into the presence of its parents at a future period, is supposed always to excite in their bosoms such feelings as are sure, sooner or later, to lead to a recognition. There is more of sentimental beauty than of truth in the notion, and we have, in reality, no well authenticated case of children being affiliated in this manner, unless where there was a likeness, or some other circum- stance, to give rise to a suspicion. The fact is, that parents and children, brothers and sisters, who have never seen each other, may be brought together, and continue to meet for years, and never dream of the relationship which exists between them. They are to each other merely human beings, members of the great democracy, bearing no nat- ural ensigns of any kind to awaken those yearnings of which poetical writers speak. It will, indeed, sometimes happen that a trace of family resem- blance awakens a supposition of the relationship, and that this occasionally leads to a clearing up of the case; but of mysterious recognitions, through the force of some unseen principle, such as is usually called the voice of nature, there is assur- edly no satisfactory evidence. There is likewise a prevalent belief that relations, fully cognizant of each other, are endowed by nature with a mysterious mutual affection which nothing can ever altogether extinguish. Thus a parent expects to be necessarily, or by the mere force of nature, beloved by his children, however he may treat them. Thus brothers and sisters, uncles and nephews, aunts and nieces, all expect to find themselves held reciprocally in great regard, simply because of those relations; although it may be that they have never before been in each others company, or had any other opportunity of forming the slightest attachment. This belief is not so entirely unfounded as the preceding. Nature has given to the mother an instinctive love of her offspring, though this appears in very different degrees in different individuals, and only has force during the tender age of the children. There is also a certain feeling entertained, at all periods of life, amongst blood-relations, a certain interest in each,other, independent of habits of intimacy, being apparently a modification of the amour propre, as if we held these persons as somehow part of our- selves. But beyond these feelings, which may be admitted to be implanted by nature in our mental constitution, there is certainly nothing in consan- guinity calculated to produce attachment. There, as in other relations of life, friendship depends simply upon those conditions which are usually productive of itas old association, congeniality of disposition, community of likings and dislikings, and the interchange of civilities and benefits. I do not think it necessary to attempt to support this proposition by many arguments; for it seems to me that a little reflection will show to all rational persons that no other conclusion can be come to. The opposite notion seems to be merely one of those dreams of early mankind, which have been handed down from one generation to another, escaping challenge purely from their reaching us at a time of life when all that is offered to the mind is accepted. And I would say that this, is peculiarly one of those nurse-implanted notions which are of all others the most apt to take deep root in our minds, and afterwards to defy the efforts of reason to supplant them. Perhaps it would be found in nine out of ten of all the best intellects of the country, that they believe, without inquiry, or any just foundation for their belief, that there is a kind of witchcraft in blood-relationship, making mutual love of parent and child, of brother and brother, independent of all worldly conditions. The idea has in it some poetical beauty and inter- est; but it is nevertheless a great error, and, like all errors, liable to produce evil. It seems to me that a large part of the occasional unhappiness attending relationship, may be traced to this cause. Relations depend upon the efficacy of the supposed instinct for procuring and retaining mutual affection, and, secure in this reliance, see no occasion to cultivate friendship or attachment by the ordinary and only legitimate methods. Often parents will treat their children with coldness, or even harshness, conceiving that nevertheless the children will, or ought to, regard them with rev- erence and affection. Brothers and sisters, in like manner, trusting to an abstraction which has no existence but in the mind, often act with levity or unkindliness towards each other, expecting never- theless that the offended individual will overlook it by virtue of the instinctive regard arising from re- lationship. And generally, it may be observed that a reliance upon this supposed instinct md u9es, in domestic circles, a much less careful conduct amongst the various members, with regard to each others feelings and interests, than is to be seen amongst associates who are not akin. The parent thinks he may indulge safely in a little tyranny over h~s little ones are they not my children, and should they not therefore love me I He may be unreasonable as much as he chooses with one who ought to be ever attached; he may insult and mortify the most sensitive of natures, and yet ex- pect to see the wounded being crouch, spaniel-like, at his feet, the more loving that he has been aggrieved; he may show a general conduct in life which no one can respect; yet he will expect that his children are to be unaffected in their attach- ment by all such circumstances. Or, at the very best, the parent may take no pains to cultivate the affections of the children. Fulfilling only the most obvious duties, he may never address his young ones with a kindly word or caress, but always act towards them with the appearance, if not the reality, of indifference. And yet this man will expect to be as much beloved by his offspring, through the whole extent of their joint lives, as if he had been continually pouring benedictions and acts of kindness upon them. Here is surely an error of great magnitude, which it is most desirable to see corrected. There are, too, fathers, and even mothers, who, though fond of their children, and sufficiently anxious to advance their happiness, have, from awkwardness or some other habits of the mind, no power of showing their feelings. Perhaps they, on the contrary, take refuge from the difficulty they are under, in a hard external manner, bearing an appearance of indifference, if not of unkindliness. Here, likewise, the full stream of affection is expected to flow from th~ children: but can it do so? Can the children of such parents love them as much as if they had been in the habit, from the dawn of intelligence, of experiencing every mark of parental affection? It is evidently impossible. I have heard of a 22 THE WOMAN OF THE WORLD. mother of exeeflent general character, who had always borne to her numerous children an appear- ance of comparative coldness. She confessed to them on their death-bed, to their great surprise, that in reality she had always felt in the warmest manner towards them all, but was utterly incapable of expressing her real sentiments. This was, surely, most unfortunate; for it cannot be doubted that the children of this mother would have dis- played a much warmer degree of regard towards her through life, if they had not been all along uider an impression that she was indifferent to them. How much, then, of possible happiness was forfeited, in this family, in consequence of a bed manner, probably induced at first by a false notion regarding the natural affections. It is strange that, while meliorations are sought in all departments of social polity, no one ever thinks of the tremendous oppressions and griev- ances which prevail in domestic circles. The mercilessness of the most barbarous ages flourishes to this day in many a household bearing every ex- ternal mark of propriety. Persons of all imaginable respectability in their ordinary conduct, take leave to act with Draconic tyranny and cruelty towards the helpless beings committed by nature to their charge, and whose very inability to resist or escape ought to be a strong pleading in their behalf. To every caprice that the human mind is capable of, to every possible peculiarity of heart- lessness, jealousy, malignity, children are exposed at the hands of their parents, and yet no one can presume to interfere. A parent can take leave to visit a child with every kind of persecution in word and act, and yet the sufferer has not even the poor consolation of public sympathy if he attempts to exclaim against the injury. And all this is mainly on account of a notion, that there is a mystic tie between parent and child, which at once renders their relation independent of all the ordinary prin- ciples of human nature, and raiges it above the scope of all humaii law. When we consult nature her- self, we hear nothing of such a tie. Ask any child who is well-treated by its parents, why it loves them, and invariably you have for answer, because they are kind to me, or something to the same effect. And when investigation is made into the feelings of an ill-used child towards its parents, the result as invariably is, that these are found to be the objects of dread and dislike, in con- sequence of their conduct. What I wish to impress, in fine, by this paper, is, that the affections of relatives towards each other are simply governed, like the affections of persons not akin, by the manner in which they treat each other. Here you no more gather grapes from thorns, than in any other department of our varied social relations. To attain, therefore, and to preserve the affections of children, or of brothers, or of sisters, it is necessary to have always ap- peared before them in a kindly and beneficent character, and to have always spoken and acted with a deference to their feelings. Not that there may not be much good-humored latitude of dis- course amongst the members of a family; but, certainly, all hard and biting speeches should be as carefully avoided here as in miscellaneous soci- ety. Let these conditions be observed, and amity and mutual helpfulness, love and peace, will un- doubtedly be realized ; but let an opposite course be followed, and the results will as unquestionably be opposite. The parent will be unhonored by his children, and he will deserve to be so. And 23 brothers and sisters, who might have promoted each others happiness to an almost indefinite ex- tent, will find themselves a source of continual mutual heart-burning aiid vexation. From Bentleys Miscellany. THE WOMAN OF THE WORLD. OF all the agreeable, of all the fascinating crea- tures in existence none can equal the real woman of the world. Of all the cold, stiff, and repulsive characters that frequent society, none can vie with the woman of the world. Opposites may some- times be true; the contradictory account here given of the same individual is strictly correct. To the rich, to the great,. to the influential, the female we describe is the most agreeable com- panion that ever won golden opinions. To the poor relative, to the fallen friend, or the person above whoni she has risen, none can be so haughty, so insulting. Thank Heaven! we seldom find spinsters enlisted in this class, and rarely persons during their first marriage ; but in a well-seasoned widowhood, in a state of second connubial bliss, the vampire lady has full scope to play off the knowledge, the intrigue, which debased moments have instilled into her. To trample on those who have served her, to cut those who can no longer pander to her ambition or her pleasure, to spurn her equals, and to make use of her superiors, are the only objects in life which the hackneyed and often-deceived female of this class endeavors to accomplish. The long-cheated gambler frequently ends in becoming a sharper, considering it but fair to retaliate on the less experienced those evils which he himself has endured. On the same prin- ciple, the well-worn matron of deeply-acquired knowledge, seeks to deceive those who have already but too often succeeded in misleading her. If you are of a reckless disposition you may en- counter a tiger single-handed, and, by a miracle, come off victorious. Avoid, however, a woman of the world. Satan himself is no match for her. When a woman of this stamp smiles, be sure that deceit lurks under the seeming good-nature. It is true that she will occasionally, in passing in her carriage, or even in speaking to her servant, thus indulge; these bland looks, however, are meant to show her teeth, half which are false. If she really and palpably smiles upon you, there is a latent motive, which has called up the look: some scheme is about to be built on your credulity. When she frowns she is less dangerous; you have foiled her, you have thwarted her in some of her plans, you have gained her eternal enmity; s& much the better. The open hatred of such a being is far preferable to her hollow, and upas-breathing friendship. If a widow, she is mild, extremely ready to oblige, anxious to promote the pleasures of young people, desirous of showing attention to the old and the infirm. Bashful of her own.~ accomplishments, she seems anxious to draw out. those of others, warm in her regards, earnest iza~ her advice, and general conversation. If married, she publicly makes much of her bus- band, because she knows it raises herself. A~ tyrant at home, she is all amiability abroad; wedded~ to an old man, she pretends to be jealous of him,.. in order to tickle his vanity. Espoused to a young~: one, she continually affords him a round of pIea~

THE WOMAN OF THE WORLD. mother of exeeflent general character, who had always borne to her numerous children an appear- ance of comparative coldness. She confessed to them on their death-bed, to their great surprise, that in reality she had always felt in the warmest manner towards them all, but was utterly incapable of expressing her real sentiments. This was, surely, most unfortunate; for it cannot be doubted that the children of this mother would have dis- played a much warmer degree of regard towards her through life, if they had not been all along uider an impression that she was indifferent to them. How much, then, of possible happiness was forfeited, in this family, in consequence of a bed manner, probably induced at first by a false notion regarding the natural affections. It is strange that, while meliorations are sought in all departments of social polity, no one ever thinks of the tremendous oppressions and griev- ances which prevail in domestic circles. The mercilessness of the most barbarous ages flourishes to this day in many a household bearing every ex- ternal mark of propriety. Persons of all imaginable respectability in their ordinary conduct, take leave to act with Draconic tyranny and cruelty towards the helpless beings committed by nature to their charge, and whose very inability to resist or escape ought to be a strong pleading in their behalf. To every caprice that the human mind is capable of, to every possible peculiarity of heart- lessness, jealousy, malignity, children are exposed at the hands of their parents, and yet no one can presume to interfere. A parent can take leave to visit a child with every kind of persecution in word and act, and yet the sufferer has not even the poor consolation of public sympathy if he attempts to exclaim against the injury. And all this is mainly on account of a notion, that there is a mystic tie between parent and child, which at once renders their relation independent of all the ordinary prin- ciples of human nature, and raiges it above the scope of all humaii law. When we consult nature her- self, we hear nothing of such a tie. Ask any child who is well-treated by its parents, why it loves them, and invariably you have for answer, because they are kind to me, or something to the same effect. And when investigation is made into the feelings of an ill-used child towards its parents, the result as invariably is, that these are found to be the objects of dread and dislike, in con- sequence of their conduct. What I wish to impress, in fine, by this paper, is, that the affections of relatives towards each other are simply governed, like the affections of persons not akin, by the manner in which they treat each other. Here you no more gather grapes from thorns, than in any other department of our varied social relations. To attain, therefore, and to preserve the affections of children, or of brothers, or of sisters, it is necessary to have always ap- peared before them in a kindly and beneficent character, and to have always spoken and acted with a deference to their feelings. Not that there may not be much good-humored latitude of dis- course amongst the members of a family; but, certainly, all hard and biting speeches should be as carefully avoided here as in miscellaneous soci- ety. Let these conditions be observed, and amity and mutual helpfulness, love and peace, will un- doubtedly be realized ; but let an opposite course be followed, and the results will as unquestionably be opposite. The parent will be unhonored by his children, and he will deserve to be so. And 23 brothers and sisters, who might have promoted each others happiness to an almost indefinite ex- tent, will find themselves a source of continual mutual heart-burning aiid vexation. From Bentleys Miscellany. THE WOMAN OF THE WORLD. OF all the agreeable, of all the fascinating crea- tures in existence none can equal the real woman of the world. Of all the cold, stiff, and repulsive characters that frequent society, none can vie with the woman of the world. Opposites may some- times be true; the contradictory account here given of the same individual is strictly correct. To the rich, to the great,. to the influential, the female we describe is the most agreeable com- panion that ever won golden opinions. To the poor relative, to the fallen friend, or the person above whoni she has risen, none can be so haughty, so insulting. Thank Heaven! we seldom find spinsters enlisted in this class, and rarely persons during their first marriage ; but in a well-seasoned widowhood, in a state of second connubial bliss, the vampire lady has full scope to play off the knowledge, the intrigue, which debased moments have instilled into her. To trample on those who have served her, to cut those who can no longer pander to her ambition or her pleasure, to spurn her equals, and to make use of her superiors, are the only objects in life which the hackneyed and often-deceived female of this class endeavors to accomplish. The long-cheated gambler frequently ends in becoming a sharper, considering it but fair to retaliate on the less experienced those evils which he himself has endured. On the same prin- ciple, the well-worn matron of deeply-acquired knowledge, seeks to deceive those who have already but too often succeeded in misleading her. If you are of a reckless disposition you may en- counter a tiger single-handed, and, by a miracle, come off victorious. Avoid, however, a woman of the world. Satan himself is no match for her. When a woman of this stamp smiles, be sure that deceit lurks under the seeming good-nature. It is true that she will occasionally, in passing in her carriage, or even in speaking to her servant, thus indulge; these bland looks, however, are meant to show her teeth, half which are false. If she really and palpably smiles upon you, there is a latent motive, which has called up the look: some scheme is about to be built on your credulity. When she frowns she is less dangerous; you have foiled her, you have thwarted her in some of her plans, you have gained her eternal enmity; s& much the better. The open hatred of such a being is far preferable to her hollow, and upas-breathing friendship. If a widow, she is mild, extremely ready to oblige, anxious to promote the pleasures of young people, desirous of showing attention to the old and the infirm. Bashful of her own.~ accomplishments, she seems anxious to draw out. those of others, warm in her regards, earnest iza~ her advice, and general conversation. If married, she publicly makes much of her bus- band, because she knows it raises herself. A~ tyrant at home, she is all amiability abroad; wedded~ to an old man, she pretends to be jealous of him,.. in order to tickle his vanity. Espoused to a young~: one, she continually affords him a round of pIea~ 24 NEWSPAPERS. sure, to prevent his thoughts recurring to the match he has made. Overbearing to her depen- daut relatives, obsequious to her betters, knowing and alert towards her tradespeople, apparently innocent and simple in general society, the woman of the world has accumulated a nice little sum, amassed what is vulgarly called a long stock- ing, in case of her husbands death; for, be it well understood, this regular church-goer has taken her own reading of the parable of the un- just steward, and wisely deterniined to make friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, in order that worldly friends may receive her into their habitations. No circumstance can throw the well-tutored~ woman of the world off her guard. It is true she has her company manner and voice, her domes- tic rule and tone; yet so perfectly aufait is she, so continually prepared for every event, that I am confident, in case of a fire oCcurring, or a storm beating in the roof of her house, she would, pre- viously to flying from the premises, secure her jewel-box, throw off her curl-papers, and put on a leetle rouge. These persons, like characters in a masquerade, are often of the amusing sort. The key of their actions, once in your possession, like the manmu- yres of a snake, their tortuous movements are an amusing study. They can never seek their object in a direct line; the very act of shaking your hand is with them a subject of speculation. If they have children, they only look upon them as the probable means of future aggrandizement. If they have only step-children, they manage to sow dis- sensions between them and their actual parent, and turn them out of doors. Fathers, mothers, bro- thers, and sisters, are all very well as long as they can be of use. When they cease to be so, they are incumbrances, of which the well-visored dame soon manages to get rid. The great aim of a worldly woman is to assume an easy, good-natured, and friendly manner to- wards those whom she has long looked down upon and insult6d, when she happens to find they can be of use to her. In ten minutes her apparent can- dor and warm-heartedness have eradicated the sting her former unkindness had inflicted. Again, her dupe believes, and confides in her sincerity, gives up the point which the designing female is anxious to gain, and is once more, this point acquired, treated with scorn by her who was only amiable for a while, in order to effect her purpose. Avarice is a sure concomitant with a knowledge of the world. The far-seeing female is always preparing for a winters day. While young and handsome, she cau gain much by leading on admirers by artful smiles, and implied encourage- ment; but well she knows a time must come when these danglers will fall away. To lay up a store against these chances is, consequently her every- day aim. It would take too much time to study deeply any question; practical knowledge is all she wants. It is true, she intersperses her conversation with foreign quotations; a few sentences of this kind (thanks to Maunders Treasury of Knowledge, and similar works) are easily acquired. If she is to meet a Baron Rothschild at dinner, she learns from the Morning Post the price of the funds by heart. If she is to sit next to an admiral, she spells over the engagements he has borne a part in, and delights him by her seeming extraordinary knowledge of nautical events. He little dreams that she has acquired all this information from three pages of James Naval History. Napier tells her the feats of the genertds she is likely to talk to; while the morning journals fill up the rest of her stock of knowledge. In society she is gay, apparently artless, defer- ential, and agreeable; at home she is stingy, cross, seemingly fatigued, and slovenly. There are, however, so many classes of this character, that I shall here conclude my paper, only warning you rather to take a serpent to your bosom than make a friend of a woman of the world. From Chambers Edinburgh Journal, NEWSPAPERS. THE appearance of a newspaper is such an eve- ry-day occurrence, that like most ordinary things, its commonness blinds us to its singularity, and we lose, in familiarity and curiosity, those impres- sions of surprise and astonishment which would certainly possess us were we looking on one for the first time. Unique in the world of letters, the newspaper bears no resemblance to any other literary pro- duction. It is the ephemeral record of the excit- ing now of the worlds history; a confused collec- tion of the jottings of Rumor, or the sweepings of her studio, if she can be said to have one. It is the busy scavenger of the Worlds highway, picking up everything of to-day, from the revolu- tion of an empire to the dimensions of a mush- room. It is a cluster of bubbles floating on the stream of the present hour, the petty sand-marks which to-morrows tide will for the most part obliterate, a crowd of transitory nothings which history will not care to chronicle. It is an om- nivorons monster, greedily opening its capa- cious jaws for anything offered. It is a restless busybody, interfering with every ones concerns; a noisy babbler, chattering upon every subject, and often hiding its profound ignorance under the most dogged assertions; an impudent intruder upon the privacies of popular men. It is a sleepless ca- terer to the appetite of the million, serving up, crude and uncooked, anything likely to prove welcome pabulum to the popular palate. In its anxiety to appease the insatiable craving of the quidnune, the improbable and the fabricated are hastily dished up with the authentic. Greedy of news, too impatient to verify and inquire, it is often erroneous; but deems it beneath its dignity to acknowledge an error; or if it does always declares that the misstatement was copied from a contemporary.~~ The heterogeneous confusion of subjects in a newspaper is singular to contemplate. The ludi- crous and the pathetic are here met with in strange proximity ; vice and philanthropy unceremoniously jostle each other; strange cunning and stranger simplicity, love and murder, politics and poetry, are here all huddled together in grotesque disorder. Here, in a corner, are births, marriages, and deaths, in startling juxtaposition; death and life, as it were, hand in hand, the cradle and the coffin side by side. Here, in the advertisement columns, the profligate corresponds with his friend by means of the well-understood initials; and there the agonized parents beseech their erratic son to return to his anxious relatives. Here a long list of wants painfully reminds us of the scarcity of employment, and the superabundance of labor; there the heartless votary of fashion

24 NEWSPAPERS. sure, to prevent his thoughts recurring to the match he has made. Overbearing to her depen- daut relatives, obsequious to her betters, knowing and alert towards her tradespeople, apparently innocent and simple in general society, the woman of the world has accumulated a nice little sum, amassed what is vulgarly called a long stock- ing, in case of her husbands death; for, be it well understood, this regular church-goer has taken her own reading of the parable of the un- just steward, and wisely deterniined to make friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, in order that worldly friends may receive her into their habitations. No circumstance can throw the well-tutored~ woman of the world off her guard. It is true she has her company manner and voice, her domes- tic rule and tone; yet so perfectly aufait is she, so continually prepared for every event, that I am confident, in case of a fire oCcurring, or a storm beating in the roof of her house, she would, pre- viously to flying from the premises, secure her jewel-box, throw off her curl-papers, and put on a leetle rouge. These persons, like characters in a masquerade, are often of the amusing sort. The key of their actions, once in your possession, like the manmu- yres of a snake, their tortuous movements are an amusing study. They can never seek their object in a direct line; the very act of shaking your hand is with them a subject of speculation. If they have children, they only look upon them as the probable means of future aggrandizement. If they have only step-children, they manage to sow dis- sensions between them and their actual parent, and turn them out of doors. Fathers, mothers, bro- thers, and sisters, are all very well as long as they can be of use. When they cease to be so, they are incumbrances, of which the well-visored dame soon manages to get rid. The great aim of a worldly woman is to assume an easy, good-natured, and friendly manner to- wards those whom she has long looked down upon and insult6d, when she happens to find they can be of use to her. In ten minutes her apparent can- dor and warm-heartedness have eradicated the sting her former unkindness had inflicted. Again, her dupe believes, and confides in her sincerity, gives up the point which the designing female is anxious to gain, and is once more, this point acquired, treated with scorn by her who was only amiable for a while, in order to effect her purpose. Avarice is a sure concomitant with a knowledge of the world. The far-seeing female is always preparing for a winters day. While young and handsome, she cau gain much by leading on admirers by artful smiles, and implied encourage- ment; but well she knows a time must come when these danglers will fall away. To lay up a store against these chances is, consequently her every- day aim. It would take too much time to study deeply any question; practical knowledge is all she wants. It is true, she intersperses her conversation with foreign quotations; a few sentences of this kind (thanks to Maunders Treasury of Knowledge, and similar works) are easily acquired. If she is to meet a Baron Rothschild at dinner, she learns from the Morning Post the price of the funds by heart. If she is to sit next to an admiral, she spells over the engagements he has borne a part in, and delights him by her seeming extraordinary knowledge of nautical events. He little dreams that she has acquired all this information from three pages of James Naval History. Napier tells her the feats of the genertds she is likely to talk to; while the morning journals fill up the rest of her stock of knowledge. In society she is gay, apparently artless, defer- ential, and agreeable; at home she is stingy, cross, seemingly fatigued, and slovenly. There are, however, so many classes of this character, that I shall here conclude my paper, only warning you rather to take a serpent to your bosom than make a friend of a woman of the world. From Chambers Edinburgh Journal, NEWSPAPERS. THE appearance of a newspaper is such an eve- ry-day occurrence, that like most ordinary things, its commonness blinds us to its singularity, and we lose, in familiarity and curiosity, those impres- sions of surprise and astonishment which would certainly possess us were we looking on one for the first time. Unique in the world of letters, the newspaper bears no resemblance to any other literary pro- duction. It is the ephemeral record of the excit- ing now of the worlds history; a confused collec- tion of the jottings of Rumor, or the sweepings of her studio, if she can be said to have one. It is the busy scavenger of the Worlds highway, picking up everything of to-day, from the revolu- tion of an empire to the dimensions of a mush- room. It is a cluster of bubbles floating on the stream of the present hour, the petty sand-marks which to-morrows tide will for the most part obliterate, a crowd of transitory nothings which history will not care to chronicle. It is an om- nivorons monster, greedily opening its capa- cious jaws for anything offered. It is a restless busybody, interfering with every ones concerns; a noisy babbler, chattering upon every subject, and often hiding its profound ignorance under the most dogged assertions; an impudent intruder upon the privacies of popular men. It is a sleepless ca- terer to the appetite of the million, serving up, crude and uncooked, anything likely to prove welcome pabulum to the popular palate. In its anxiety to appease the insatiable craving of the quidnune, the improbable and the fabricated are hastily dished up with the authentic. Greedy of news, too impatient to verify and inquire, it is often erroneous; but deems it beneath its dignity to acknowledge an error; or if it does always declares that the misstatement was copied from a contemporary.~~ The heterogeneous confusion of subjects in a newspaper is singular to contemplate. The ludi- crous and the pathetic are here met with in strange proximity ; vice and philanthropy unceremoniously jostle each other; strange cunning and stranger simplicity, love and murder, politics and poetry, are here all huddled together in grotesque disorder. Here, in a corner, are births, marriages, and deaths, in startling juxtaposition; death and life, as it were, hand in hand, the cradle and the coffin side by side. Here, in the advertisement columns, the profligate corresponds with his friend by means of the well-understood initials; and there the agonized parents beseech their erratic son to return to his anxious relatives. Here a long list of wants painfully reminds us of the scarcity of employment, and the superabundance of labor; there the heartless votary of fashion ~NEWSPAPERSNEw RECIPE. offers a starving salary to the possessor of every imaginable perceptive qualification. Here the honest finder of a purse of money honorably ad- vertises it, that it may be owned; and there the professional shark announces a vacancy for an apprentice, concluding the pompously-arrayed ad- vantages with the. significant words, a premium expected. Here a bloated capitalist trumpets forth his thousands to lend; and the next adver- tisement is an appeal by some broken-hearted man, who declares that the loan of five pounds would save himself and family front ruin. Here is a singular ease of death occurring from the most trivial accident; there the preservation of life under the most heToic circumstances. Here a brutal mother is prosecuted for the ill-treatment of her own children; there a benevolent stranger is commended for his disinterested adoption of some friendless orphans. Here are particularsof the costly celebration of a marriage in high-life; and there the melancholy details of the self-de- struction of some hope-abandoned miserable. Bank- ruptcies and fashionable movements, theatres and criminal courts, scraps of sermons and stale co- nundrums, strangely mingle with each other. The newspaper is no bad test of habits and tastes. No straw thrown into the air more surely indicates which way the wind blowsno game of chance more truly reveals the state of the temper than does the newspaper the peculiarities of thought and taste in the individual. The spec- tacled politician turns instinctively to the leader and the foreign intelligence, to note the move- ments of party, and anything likely to disturb the balance of power among the nations. The fund- holder turns to the price of stock, and anxiously scans the political horizon, to see if there be any little cloud gathering and threatening to affect prices. The merchant passes over every other subject as comparatively uninteresting, to bestow his undivided attention on the price current and the state of the markets; and the wealthy ship- owner cons the shipping intelligence with special interest. The literary man is concerned but little either about the price of consols or the arrival of vessels, but devours the reviews of books with the greatest avidity, and pores over the advertisement columns with the deepest curiosity, to learn what is in the press. The tradesman glances with indifference at the accounts of the movements of foreign powers, but the movements of a wealthy and liberal customer are to him a subject of intense interest. The theatre-loving apprentice hates those dry leaders, and gloats over the theatri- cal column, wishing that the whole newspaper were filled with theatricals, and wondering who is the writer of such clever articles, and how he can know so much about the actors. The plot of the latest farce, the libretto of last nights opera, the movements of his old favorites, the recent first appearance of some provincial aspirant, and the advertisements of forthcoming benefit nights, are all to him topics to which nothing is secondary in interest. Others, who only live for the opera, can scarce condescend to notice anything besides the success of a nuW prima donna, or the reap- pearance of a favorite danseuse. Some find a peculiar piquancy in the details of breaches of promise, especially if any of the letters are given. Tb e antiquary is in ecstasies at reading a para- graph recording the discovery of an old Ruman pot or a handful of coins; the devotee of fashion is in raptures wThle perusing the most approved shapes and colors for the ensuing month; and the as- tronomer is delighted with a notice which few of the uninitiated would care to read, describing, in scientific terms the situation and appearance of a new comet. Some, of more vulgar taste, in search of the romantic and the hotrible, eagerly turn to the exciting records of the criminal court, or revel in the disgusting developments of the last murder or suicide. Few, except those pitiable persons who are bent on killing time, read perseveringly down every column, but each, according to his inclina- tions, selects that for perusal which is most conso- nant to his taste. What varied emotions are excited in the breasts of different readers of a newspaper! With what opposite feelings is that damp sheet perused, which the newsman coldly places in. the hand of his ens- turner! The tradesman turns pale at seeing the name of his principal debtor in the Gazette, as in this ruin he reads his own. The actor, who has ventured to leave the provincial theatre to try the hazardous experiment of a first appearance before a London audience, views the favorable critique as an earnest of his future fame and fortune. The poor widow reads with agonized feelings the sad intelligence that her sons regiment is ordered abroad; and the expectant legatee peruses with an ill-suppressed satisfaction the long-looked4or death of the rich relation. The betrothed maiden devours the shipping intelligence which informs her of the expected speedy return of his ship; and the anxious wife with indescribable agony learns that her husbands vessel sank at sea, and all hands lost. The poor author lays down the paper with a sigh, on perusing the ill-natured and crushing review of his labored volume: and the friendless teacher spells over her advertisement in print, with a silent prayer that the lines, for the insertion of which she changed her last sovereign, may procure her a situation. The corn-factor trembles for the success of his specula- tion, as he reads the probable abundance of the harvest; and the railway proprietor rubs his hands with glee at the prospect of the rising value of shares in his line .The fiery political partisan peruses with unbounded glee the recorded triumph of his favorite candidate at the county. election, viewing in the ascendancy of his party the panacea for every social and political evil. Smiles and tears, expectation and disappointment, follow in the train of a newspaper; sunshine and shadow, the blackness of despair and the rainbow-tints of hope, chequer its pages in a strange nianner above those of any of its literary brethren. NEW RECIPE FOR AN OLD ThsH.We find the following droll recipe for making Scotch por- ridge, in the Encyclopndia of Don.~estic Econo- my, a work published the other day by Longman and Company. Stir oatmeal and water togeth- er, and let it settle. Pour off the water, and add fresh to it. This must remain till the next day, when the water is strained away from the oatmeal, and boiled. Milk is added while the porridge is boiling. The milk must be in the proportion of two parts of milk to one of water. This is truly excellent. To make Scotch porridge, throw away the meal! We fear the advice will not be very thankfully received in the north. 25

~NEWSPAPERSNEw RECIPE. offers a starving salary to the possessor of every imaginable perceptive qualification. Here the honest finder of a purse of money honorably ad- vertises it, that it may be owned; and there the professional shark announces a vacancy for an apprentice, concluding the pompously-arrayed ad- vantages with the. significant words, a premium expected. Here a bloated capitalist trumpets forth his thousands to lend; and the next adver- tisement is an appeal by some broken-hearted man, who declares that the loan of five pounds would save himself and family front ruin. Here is a singular ease of death occurring from the most trivial accident; there the preservation of life under the most heToic circumstances. Here a brutal mother is prosecuted for the ill-treatment of her own children; there a benevolent stranger is commended for his disinterested adoption of some friendless orphans. Here are particularsof the costly celebration of a marriage in high-life; and there the melancholy details of the self-de- struction of some hope-abandoned miserable. Bank- ruptcies and fashionable movements, theatres and criminal courts, scraps of sermons and stale co- nundrums, strangely mingle with each other. The newspaper is no bad test of habits and tastes. No straw thrown into the air more surely indicates which way the wind blowsno game of chance more truly reveals the state of the temper than does the newspaper the peculiarities of thought and taste in the individual. The spec- tacled politician turns instinctively to the leader and the foreign intelligence, to note the move- ments of party, and anything likely to disturb the balance of power among the nations. The fund- holder turns to the price of stock, and anxiously scans the political horizon, to see if there be any little cloud gathering and threatening to affect prices. The merchant passes over every other subject as comparatively uninteresting, to bestow his undivided attention on the price current and the state of the markets; and the wealthy ship- owner cons the shipping intelligence with special interest. The literary man is concerned but little either about the price of consols or the arrival of vessels, but devours the reviews of books with the greatest avidity, and pores over the advertisement columns with the deepest curiosity, to learn what is in the press. The tradesman glances with indifference at the accounts of the movements of foreign powers, but the movements of a wealthy and liberal customer are to him a subject of intense interest. The theatre-loving apprentice hates those dry leaders, and gloats over the theatri- cal column, wishing that the whole newspaper were filled with theatricals, and wondering who is the writer of such clever articles, and how he can know so much about the actors. The plot of the latest farce, the libretto of last nights opera, the movements of his old favorites, the recent first appearance of some provincial aspirant, and the advertisements of forthcoming benefit nights, are all to him topics to which nothing is secondary in interest. Others, who only live for the opera, can scarce condescend to notice anything besides the success of a nuW prima donna, or the reap- pearance of a favorite danseuse. Some find a peculiar piquancy in the details of breaches of promise, especially if any of the letters are given. Tb e antiquary is in ecstasies at reading a para- graph recording the discovery of an old Ruman pot or a handful of coins; the devotee of fashion is in raptures wThle perusing the most approved shapes and colors for the ensuing month; and the as- tronomer is delighted with a notice which few of the uninitiated would care to read, describing, in scientific terms the situation and appearance of a new comet. Some, of more vulgar taste, in search of the romantic and the hotrible, eagerly turn to the exciting records of the criminal court, or revel in the disgusting developments of the last murder or suicide. Few, except those pitiable persons who are bent on killing time, read perseveringly down every column, but each, according to his inclina- tions, selects that for perusal which is most conso- nant to his taste. What varied emotions are excited in the breasts of different readers of a newspaper! With what opposite feelings is that damp sheet perused, which the newsman coldly places in. the hand of his ens- turner! The tradesman turns pale at seeing the name of his principal debtor in the Gazette, as in this ruin he reads his own. The actor, who has ventured to leave the provincial theatre to try the hazardous experiment of a first appearance before a London audience, views the favorable critique as an earnest of his future fame and fortune. The poor widow reads with agonized feelings the sad intelligence that her sons regiment is ordered abroad; and the expectant legatee peruses with an ill-suppressed satisfaction the long-looked4or death of the rich relation. The betrothed maiden devours the shipping intelligence which informs her of the expected speedy return of his ship; and the anxious wife with indescribable agony learns that her husbands vessel sank at sea, and all hands lost. The poor author lays down the paper with a sigh, on perusing the ill-natured and crushing review of his labored volume: and the friendless teacher spells over her advertisement in print, with a silent prayer that the lines, for the insertion of which she changed her last sovereign, may procure her a situation. The corn-factor trembles for the success of his specula- tion, as he reads the probable abundance of the harvest; and the railway proprietor rubs his hands with glee at the prospect of the rising value of shares in his line .The fiery political partisan peruses with unbounded glee the recorded triumph of his favorite candidate at the county. election, viewing in the ascendancy of his party the panacea for every social and political evil. Smiles and tears, expectation and disappointment, follow in the train of a newspaper; sunshine and shadow, the blackness of despair and the rainbow-tints of hope, chequer its pages in a strange nianner above those of any of its literary brethren. NEW RECIPE FOR AN OLD ThsH.We find the following droll recipe for making Scotch por- ridge, in the Encyclopndia of Don.~estic Econo- my, a work published the other day by Longman and Company. Stir oatmeal and water togeth- er, and let it settle. Pour off the water, and add fresh to it. This must remain till the next day, when the water is strained away from the oatmeal, and boiled. Milk is added while the porridge is boiling. The milk must be in the proportion of two parts of milk to one of water. This is truly excellent. To make Scotch porridge, throw away the meal! We fear the advice will not be very thankfully received in the north. 25 THE PRIORITY-OF-TRANSLATION QUESTIONSURGICAL PUZZLE. THE PRIORITY-OF-TRANSLATION QUESTION. WHATEVER it may have been, the republic of letters is no longer a Utopian one. The interests of literature, or rather of literary property, have of late years become so complicated as to have been frequently the subject of legislative enact- ments; and of late a new question has been started as to the necessity for affording protection to translationstranslation-right as well as copy- right. The claim thus sought to be established is a new one; for hitherto foreign works have been considered as fere naturceor, if you prefer it, a fountain-head from which any one who pleases might fill his pitcher. Now, it seems, the first- comer, after helping himself, ought to be allowed to drive away all others as intruders, pirates, rob- bers. Let us see the consequences. If an author may protect himself from translatorsif he be allowed to exercise any sort of authority or con- trol in regard to it, by conferring an exclusive privilege, or limiting the righthe may withhold permission altogether. This is not a very probable, but it is a very possible exercise of powerfor a popular author would with difficulty be persuaded of the small money value of the privilege, and refuse with indignation to accept it. And why should this power be granted l The author can now ensure priority of translation by means of an express arrangement, and the transmission of pi~oof sheets as they pass through the press; and this is often donewas done lately by the Vis- count dArlincourtand thus the original and the translation may be published simultaneously. But after publication there can be, I fear, no other re- striction than that imposed by the circumstance of there being a translation already in the market; consequently, little chance for a second one, unless the first has been brought out at an indiscreetly high price. Authors themselves are not much interested in thus restricting translationswith them it is the more the merrier ; they would be better content with bad translators than none at all. Or sup- pose that there be some who would deprecate such honor; might they not go further and demand some international law to afford them and their writings protection from incapable and blundering translators l Another question here arises, which, perhaps, more immediately affects the case of the Swe- dish Novels, and that is, ought not some dis- tinction to be made between a translation at second- hand, and one from the original language l In all probability the merits of Miss Bremers writings would never have been known to us at all, had they not been discovered and pointed o~it by Ger- man translators. In England her novels were not even spoken of by those Reviews which especially profess to make us acquainted with the literary productions of the Continent. If no distinction be made between a direct translation from the origi- nal and one which is merely a copy of a previous c~opymere priority would frequently be injurious o the interests of literature, by securing to a per- ~ormance of the latter description a privilege that ~vould operate as a prohibition on a more legiti- nate version from the authors own words. The same would likewise be the case, as you observed (ante, p. 81) in regard to translation at first hand, because priority of appearance being of greater importance than ever, indispensable to success, and conferring monopolyfidelity to the original, and all merit of execution, would become secon- dary considerations. No matter how hurriedly or carelessly his task might have been performed, by merely getting first into the market the translator would have it entirely to himself, and shut out all rivals and competitors. So far, therefore, from the public being benefited, or the interests of literature at all consulted, there would be very great danger of translation becoming more of mere job-work than ever. A fact mentioned by Mrs. Howitt is illustrative ,proof. The German translation of The Diary, published by Kittler, is, she as- serts, by far the most defective that has yet ap- peared of any of Miss Bremers works : be it so; but it was the first, and therefore, according to the proposed law, the German people must be content with it. After all, collisions in regard to rival translations are of such rare occurrence as hardly to call for any positive enactments to guard against them. The case of the Swedish Novels is almost a solitary one; and perhaps even there the hard- ship complained of may be partly attributed to want of policy in putting the same price upon a translation as upon a production of original author- ship; as if a writer were fairly entitled to the same degree of remuneration for his labor in the one in- stance as in the other. Where a work is of such character that a translation of it is likely to be fol- lowed by spurious imitations, the injury might be to some extent guarded against by lessening the exceedingly great disparity as to price between the legitimate and illegitimate productions; by adopt- ing a more condensed and economic form, and coming nearer to the minimum than the maximum of remuneration and profit. This would, perhaps, go far towards spoiling the trade of the specu- lator in cheap translations.Atlzenc~um. A SURGICAL PUZZLE. BETWEEN the years 175060, the medical rage of the day was for tar-water, just as brandy and salt, hydropathy, and other universal remedies, have been fashionable lately. The newspapers teemed with accounts of wonderful cures which were said to have been almost miraculously brought about by the use of tar in various forms. Pain- phlets and scientific essays were published,the most celebrated of which was written by Dr. Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, called Sins, or a Chain of Philosophical Reflections and Inquiries concerning Tar-water. Scarcely~ a disease existed which the public were not led to believe was to be cured by the invaluable but far from aromatic nos- trum. Berkeley found tar-water infallible for ner- vous cholic; some declared it had cured them of the gout; from others it had driven away ague, toothache, asthmas, and consumption. But the most remarkable cases in which tar was said to have been effectually curative, were those of broken limbs. One of the most singular of such instances is thus related in one of Horace Wal- poles letters to Sir Horace Mann, which has been recently made public :A sailor who had broken his leg was advised to communicate his case to the Royal Society. The account he gave was, that, having fallen from the top of the mast, and fractured his leg, he had dressed it with nothing but tar and oakum, and yet in three days was able to walk as well as before the accident. The story at first appeared quite incredible, as no such effi- cacious qualities were known in tar, and still less 26

THE PRIORITY-OF-TRANSLATION QUESTIONSURGICAL PUZZLE. THE PRIORITY-OF-TRANSLATION QUESTION. WHATEVER it may have been, the republic of letters is no longer a Utopian one. The interests of literature, or rather of literary property, have of late years become so complicated as to have been frequently the subject of legislative enact- ments; and of late a new question has been started as to the necessity for affording protection to translationstranslation-right as well as copy- right. The claim thus sought to be established is a new one; for hitherto foreign works have been considered as fere naturceor, if you prefer it, a fountain-head from which any one who pleases might fill his pitcher. Now, it seems, the first- comer, after helping himself, ought to be allowed to drive away all others as intruders, pirates, rob- bers. Let us see the consequences. If an author may protect himself from translatorsif he be allowed to exercise any sort of authority or con- trol in regard to it, by conferring an exclusive privilege, or limiting the righthe may withhold permission altogether. This is not a very probable, but it is a very possible exercise of powerfor a popular author would with difficulty be persuaded of the small money value of the privilege, and refuse with indignation to accept it. And why should this power be granted l The author can now ensure priority of translation by means of an express arrangement, and the transmission of pi~oof sheets as they pass through the press; and this is often donewas done lately by the Vis- count dArlincourtand thus the original and the translation may be published simultaneously. But after publication there can be, I fear, no other re- striction than that imposed by the circumstance of there being a translation already in the market; consequently, little chance for a second one, unless the first has been brought out at an indiscreetly high price. Authors themselves are not much interested in thus restricting translationswith them it is the more the merrier ; they would be better content with bad translators than none at all. Or sup- pose that there be some who would deprecate such honor; might they not go further and demand some international law to afford them and their writings protection from incapable and blundering translators l Another question here arises, which, perhaps, more immediately affects the case of the Swe- dish Novels, and that is, ought not some dis- tinction to be made between a translation at second- hand, and one from the original language l In all probability the merits of Miss Bremers writings would never have been known to us at all, had they not been discovered and pointed o~it by Ger- man translators. In England her novels were not even spoken of by those Reviews which especially profess to make us acquainted with the literary productions of the Continent. If no distinction be made between a direct translation from the origi- nal and one which is merely a copy of a previous c~opymere priority would frequently be injurious o the interests of literature, by securing to a per- ~ormance of the latter description a privilege that ~vould operate as a prohibition on a more legiti- nate version from the authors own words. The same would likewise be the case, as you observed (ante, p. 81) in regard to translation at first hand, because priority of appearance being of greater importance than ever, indispensable to success, and conferring monopolyfidelity to the original, and all merit of execution, would become secon- dary considerations. No matter how hurriedly or carelessly his task might have been performed, by merely getting first into the market the translator would have it entirely to himself, and shut out all rivals and competitors. So far, therefore, from the public being benefited, or the interests of literature at all consulted, there would be very great danger of translation becoming more of mere job-work than ever. A fact mentioned by Mrs. Howitt is illustrative ,proof. The German translation of The Diary, published by Kittler, is, she as- serts, by far the most defective that has yet ap- peared of any of Miss Bremers works : be it so; but it was the first, and therefore, according to the proposed law, the German people must be content with it. After all, collisions in regard to rival translations are of such rare occurrence as hardly to call for any positive enactments to guard against them. The case of the Swedish Novels is almost a solitary one; and perhaps even there the hard- ship complained of may be partly attributed to want of policy in putting the same price upon a translation as upon a production of original author- ship; as if a writer were fairly entitled to the same degree of remuneration for his labor in the one in- stance as in the other. Where a work is of such character that a translation of it is likely to be fol- lowed by spurious imitations, the injury might be to some extent guarded against by lessening the exceedingly great disparity as to price between the legitimate and illegitimate productions; by adopt- ing a more condensed and economic form, and coming nearer to the minimum than the maximum of remuneration and profit. This would, perhaps, go far towards spoiling the trade of the specu- lator in cheap translations.Atlzenc~um. A SURGICAL PUZZLE. BETWEEN the years 175060, the medical rage of the day was for tar-water, just as brandy and salt, hydropathy, and other universal remedies, have been fashionable lately. The newspapers teemed with accounts of wonderful cures which were said to have been almost miraculously brought about by the use of tar in various forms. Pain- phlets and scientific essays were published,the most celebrated of which was written by Dr. Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, called Sins, or a Chain of Philosophical Reflections and Inquiries concerning Tar-water. Scarcely~ a disease existed which the public were not led to believe was to be cured by the invaluable but far from aromatic nos- trum. Berkeley found tar-water infallible for ner- vous cholic; some declared it had cured them of the gout; from others it had driven away ague, toothache, asthmas, and consumption. But the most remarkable cases in which tar was said to have been effectually curative, were those of broken limbs. One of the most singular of such instances is thus related in one of Horace Wal- poles letters to Sir Horace Mann, which has been recently made public :A sailor who had broken his leg was advised to communicate his case to the Royal Society. The account he gave was, that, having fallen from the top of the mast, and fractured his leg, he had dressed it with nothing but tar and oakum, and yet in three days was able to walk as well as before the accident. The story at first appeared quite incredible, as no such effi- cacious qualities were known in tar, and still less 26

THE PRIORITY-OF-TRANSLATION QUESTIONSURGICAL PUZZLE. THE PRIORITY-OF-TRANSLATION QUESTION. WHATEVER it may have been, the republic of letters is no longer a Utopian one. The interests of literature, or rather of literary property, have of late years become so complicated as to have been frequently the subject of legislative enact- ments; and of late a new question has been started as to the necessity for affording protection to translationstranslation-right as well as copy- right. The claim thus sought to be established is a new one; for hitherto foreign works have been considered as fere naturceor, if you prefer it, a fountain-head from which any one who pleases might fill his pitcher. Now, it seems, the first- comer, after helping himself, ought to be allowed to drive away all others as intruders, pirates, rob- bers. Let us see the consequences. If an author may protect himself from translatorsif he be allowed to exercise any sort of authority or con- trol in regard to it, by conferring an exclusive privilege, or limiting the righthe may withhold permission altogether. This is not a very probable, but it is a very possible exercise of powerfor a popular author would with difficulty be persuaded of the small money value of the privilege, and refuse with indignation to accept it. And why should this power be granted l The author can now ensure priority of translation by means of an express arrangement, and the transmission of pi~oof sheets as they pass through the press; and this is often donewas done lately by the Vis- count dArlincourtand thus the original and the translation may be published simultaneously. But after publication there can be, I fear, no other re- striction than that imposed by the circumstance of there being a translation already in the market; consequently, little chance for a second one, unless the first has been brought out at an indiscreetly high price. Authors themselves are not much interested in thus restricting translationswith them it is the more the merrier ; they would be better content with bad translators than none at all. Or sup- pose that there be some who would deprecate such honor; might they not go further and demand some international law to afford them and their writings protection from incapable and blundering translators l Another question here arises, which, perhaps, more immediately affects the case of the Swe- dish Novels, and that is, ought not some dis- tinction to be made between a translation at second- hand, and one from the original language l In all probability the merits of Miss Bremers writings would never have been known to us at all, had they not been discovered and pointed o~it by Ger- man translators. In England her novels were not even spoken of by those Reviews which especially profess to make us acquainted with the literary productions of the Continent. If no distinction be made between a direct translation from the origi- nal and one which is merely a copy of a previous c~opymere priority would frequently be injurious o the interests of literature, by securing to a per- ~ormance of the latter description a privilege that ~vould operate as a prohibition on a more legiti- nate version from the authors own words. The same would likewise be the case, as you observed (ante, p. 81) in regard to translation at first hand, because priority of appearance being of greater importance than ever, indispensable to success, and conferring monopolyfidelity to the original, and all merit of execution, would become secon- dary considerations. No matter how hurriedly or carelessly his task might have been performed, by merely getting first into the market the translator would have it entirely to himself, and shut out all rivals and competitors. So far, therefore, from the public being benefited, or the interests of literature at all consulted, there would be very great danger of translation becoming more of mere job-work than ever. A fact mentioned by Mrs. Howitt is illustrative ,proof. The German translation of The Diary, published by Kittler, is, she as- serts, by far the most defective that has yet ap- peared of any of Miss Bremers works : be it so; but it was the first, and therefore, according to the proposed law, the German people must be content with it. After all, collisions in regard to rival translations are of such rare occurrence as hardly to call for any positive enactments to guard against them. The case of the Swedish Novels is almost a solitary one; and perhaps even there the hard- ship complained of may be partly attributed to want of policy in putting the same price upon a translation as upon a production of original author- ship; as if a writer were fairly entitled to the same degree of remuneration for his labor in the one in- stance as in the other. Where a work is of such character that a translation of it is likely to be fol- lowed by spurious imitations, the injury might be to some extent guarded against by lessening the exceedingly great disparity as to price between the legitimate and illegitimate productions; by adopt- ing a more condensed and economic form, and coming nearer to the minimum than the maximum of remuneration and profit. This would, perhaps, go far towards spoiling the trade of the specu- lator in cheap translations.Atlzenc~um. A SURGICAL PUZZLE. BETWEEN the years 175060, the medical rage of the day was for tar-water, just as brandy and salt, hydropathy, and other universal remedies, have been fashionable lately. The newspapers teemed with accounts of wonderful cures which were said to have been almost miraculously brought about by the use of tar in various forms. Pain- phlets and scientific essays were published,the most celebrated of which was written by Dr. Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, called Sins, or a Chain of Philosophical Reflections and Inquiries concerning Tar-water. Scarcely~ a disease existed which the public were not led to believe was to be cured by the invaluable but far from aromatic nos- trum. Berkeley found tar-water infallible for ner- vous cholic; some declared it had cured them of the gout; from others it had driven away ague, toothache, asthmas, and consumption. But the most remarkable cases in which tar was said to have been effectually curative, were those of broken limbs. One of the most singular of such instances is thus related in one of Horace Wal- poles letters to Sir Horace Mann, which has been recently made public :A sailor who had broken his leg was advised to communicate his case to the Royal Society. The account he gave was, that, having fallen from the top of the mast, and fractured his leg, he had dressed it with nothing but tar and oakum, and yet in three days was able to walk as well as before the accident. The story at first appeared quite incredible, as no such effi- cacious qualities were known in tar, and still less 26 ADVICE TO DWELLERS IN TOWNS. in oakum; nor was a poor sailor to be credited on his own bare assertion of so wonderful a cure. The society very reasonably demanded a fuller relation, and, I suppose, the corroboration of evi- dence. Many doubted whether the leg had been really broken. That part of the story had been amply verified. Still, it was difficult to believe that the man had made use of no other applications than tar and oakum; and how they should cure a broken leg in three days, even if they could cure it at all, was a matter of the utmost wonder. Several letters passed between the society and the patient, who persevered in the most solemn asseve- rations of having used no other remedies; and it does appear beyond a doubt that the man speaks truth, it is a little uncharitable, but I fear there are surgeons who might not like this abbreviation of attendance and expense; but, on the other hand, you will be chatmed with the plain honest simplicity of the sailor. In a postscript to his last letter he added these words : I forgot to tell your honors that the leg was a wooden one.~~ This story, though true, did not occur exactly as Walpole relates it. The hoax was played off by a very eccentric character of the timeSir John Hillwho had been refnsed admission to the royal society, and revenged his disappointment by send- ing a letter, detailing the case of the sailor as if from a country practitioner. The assembled wis- dom of the Fellows of the Royal Society discussed the extraordinary nature of the case with the most earnest gravity, bringing all their medical and sci- entific knowledge to bear upon it. The result of their learned deliberations was given to the world, and then Sir John Hill sent a second letter, in- forming the society that he had forgotten to state one circumstance in the cure, which was, that the sailors leg was a wooden one! This Pleasantry having got extensive currency, the universal vir- tues of tar and tar-water were much less believed in, and at last got quite exploded.Cltambers Journal. From Chambers Journal. ADVICE TO DWELLERS IN TOWNS. BY A DWELLER IN MANcHESTER. In those fair seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature not to go forth and view her beauties, and partake in her rejoicings with heaven and earth.Milton. DEAR England! blessings on thy soil, Thy wide and fertile valleys, Thy stately halls, that stand so fair, Mid lawns and leafy alleys! Blessings upon thy breezy downs; Thy mountain wildernesses, Thy forest walks and sylvan nooks, Thy far-off, green recesses! Thy village churches, old and gray, Their dead serenely sleeping, While over them the ancient yews A solemn watch are keeping! Thy moss-grown, swallow-haunted spires, Upwards our thoughts directing; Visible links twixt heaven and earth, Us with our God connecting! England ! these blessings take from one Who thinks it a high duty, To wander forth, even for a day, To revel in thy beauty. Short-sighted men! to starve your souls, And miss lifes purest pleasures, By living pent-up, and apart From all these open treasures! Call it not life, but rather death! Your highest powers misusing, In vain pursuit of phantom wants, The only true wealth losing! For what is wealth, but the amount Of blessings to us flowing From all on earth we love and bless. The power of love foreshowing Come out, then, dwellers mid dead walls, Sick of the din and striving, Health will be breathed into your souls, From sight and sounds reviving! Nature, thy most mysterious power, And holiest ministration, Is when thou bringst to chafed hearts Thy tranquil restoration ! The blessing comes to us, if we, In thy sweet grace believing, Go forth with trustful heart, and free, Thy influence receiving. I, wandering in the Vale of Dove, Have found these things no fiction; For woods, and streams, and meadows green, Brought me their benediction. The morning air, the wild-flowers scent, The sun upon the river, Made my whole soul a thanksgiving Unto the Gracious Giver! On Haddon Hall the golden hues Of eve were softly falling, As in its silent courts 1 stood, The long ago recalling: The sparkling eyes and graceful forms, The mirth and music ringing, A sigh, perchance, from some young heart, The minstrels love-song bringing! Round these wide hearths, on winter nights, The wind and rain loud beating, What maidens fair, and stately men, Have sat, old tales repeating! Oh ! dearer far than gilded halls, Thou venerable Haddon! Thoughts of thy brave old English life My heavt will ever gladden. Come forth, then, dwellers in the towns, Your cares behind you leaving, Your desks and mills, your books and bills, Your hammering and weaving. Against old Englands majesty, Against our better reason, And sacred inner life and health, This is the true high treason: To live shut up, while all around The balmy winds are blowing To lose those summer thoughts that make Our winter hearths more glowing. Then let us bless thee, dear old land And deem it our high duty And privilege to see and feel rrhe affluence of thy beauty! Written in Dosedale, August 6, 1844. 27

ADVICE TO DWELLERS IN TOWNS. in oakum; nor was a poor sailor to be credited on his own bare assertion of so wonderful a cure. The society very reasonably demanded a fuller relation, and, I suppose, the corroboration of evi- dence. Many doubted whether the leg had been really broken. That part of the story had been amply verified. Still, it was difficult to believe that the man had made use of no other applications than tar and oakum; and how they should cure a broken leg in three days, even if they could cure it at all, was a matter of the utmost wonder. Several letters passed between the society and the patient, who persevered in the most solemn asseve- rations of having used no other remedies; and it does appear beyond a doubt that the man speaks truth, it is a little uncharitable, but I fear there are surgeons who might not like this abbreviation of attendance and expense; but, on the other hand, you will be chatmed with the plain honest simplicity of the sailor. In a postscript to his last letter he added these words : I forgot to tell your honors that the leg was a wooden one.~~ This story, though true, did not occur exactly as Walpole relates it. The hoax was played off by a very eccentric character of the timeSir John Hillwho had been refnsed admission to the royal society, and revenged his disappointment by send- ing a letter, detailing the case of the sailor as if from a country practitioner. The assembled wis- dom of the Fellows of the Royal Society discussed the extraordinary nature of the case with the most earnest gravity, bringing all their medical and sci- entific knowledge to bear upon it. The result of their learned deliberations was given to the world, and then Sir John Hill sent a second letter, in- forming the society that he had forgotten to state one circumstance in the cure, which was, that the sailors leg was a wooden one! This Pleasantry having got extensive currency, the universal vir- tues of tar and tar-water were much less believed in, and at last got quite exploded.Cltambers Journal. From Chambers Journal. ADVICE TO DWELLERS IN TOWNS. BY A DWELLER IN MANcHESTER. In those fair seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against nature not to go forth and view her beauties, and partake in her rejoicings with heaven and earth.Milton. DEAR England! blessings on thy soil, Thy wide and fertile valleys, Thy stately halls, that stand so fair, Mid lawns and leafy alleys! Blessings upon thy breezy downs; Thy mountain wildernesses, Thy forest walks and sylvan nooks, Thy far-off, green recesses! Thy village churches, old and gray, Their dead serenely sleeping, While over them the ancient yews A solemn watch are keeping! Thy moss-grown, swallow-haunted spires, Upwards our thoughts directing; Visible links twixt heaven and earth, Us with our God connecting! England ! these blessings take from one Who thinks it a high duty, To wander forth, even for a day, To revel in thy beauty. Short-sighted men! to starve your souls, And miss lifes purest pleasures, By living pent-up, and apart From all these open treasures! Call it not life, but rather death! Your highest powers misusing, In vain pursuit of phantom wants, The only true wealth losing! For what is wealth, but the amount Of blessings to us flowing From all on earth we love and bless. The power of love foreshowing Come out, then, dwellers mid dead walls, Sick of the din and striving, Health will be breathed into your souls, From sight and sounds reviving! Nature, thy most mysterious power, And holiest ministration, Is when thou bringst to chafed hearts Thy tranquil restoration ! The blessing comes to us, if we, In thy sweet grace believing, Go forth with trustful heart, and free, Thy influence receiving. I, wandering in the Vale of Dove, Have found these things no fiction; For woods, and streams, and meadows green, Brought me their benediction. The morning air, the wild-flowers scent, The sun upon the river, Made my whole soul a thanksgiving Unto the Gracious Giver! On Haddon Hall the golden hues Of eve were softly falling, As in its silent courts 1 stood, The long ago recalling: The sparkling eyes and graceful forms, The mirth and music ringing, A sigh, perchance, from some young heart, The minstrels love-song bringing! Round these wide hearths, on winter nights, The wind and rain loud beating, What maidens fair, and stately men, Have sat, old tales repeating! Oh ! dearer far than gilded halls, Thou venerable Haddon! Thoughts of thy brave old English life My heavt will ever gladden. Come forth, then, dwellers in the towns, Your cares behind you leaving, Your desks and mills, your books and bills, Your hammering and weaving. Against old Englands majesty, Against our better reason, And sacred inner life and health, This is the true high treason: To live shut up, while all around The balmy winds are blowing To lose those summer thoughts that make Our winter hearths more glowing. Then let us bless thee, dear old land And deem it our high duty And privilege to see and feel rrhe affluence of thy beauty! Written in Dosedale, August 6, 1844. 27 2S TOO LATE. From Chambers Journal. TOO LATE. THE children of the earth, says Miss Bre- mer, in one of her admirable novels, struggle against the sharp sword of suffering for many, many years: they live-they sufferthey struggle. The sword is broken~ and they fall powerlessly downsuccess reaches to them the goblet-they touch their lips to the purple edge, and die. Every thoughtful arid experienced reader may, on reflection, remember some friend, or friends friends, to whom these remarks are applicable, for society is full of such instances; and even amidst the long record of those illustrious names that the world will not willingly let die, there are hut too many to whom the fair guerdon they looked to as the. reward of their laborious days caine indeed, but came too late: the eye was dim, the ear was closed, the hand was cold, the heart stillall so worn and weary in the long pursuit, that fruition came too late, and could not bless. Three hundred. years have not been able to diminish the fame of Torquato Tasso He with the glory round his furrowed brow, That emanated then, and dazzles now and yet the story of his lifb is an almost unvaried record of sorrow and suffering, of baffled hopes, of vain endeavor, of unmerited wrong. He was the son of Bernardo Tasso, a poet whose fame has been totally eclipsed by the superiority of his son; and gave indications, even from infancy, of the possession of an almost divine genius, which education and intimate companionship with the most celebrated men in Italy so developed and im- proved, that it was soon predicted of him that he would be the greatest poet of his age. When he was about twenty years of age, he was invited by Cardinal DEste to reside with him at the court of his brother, Alphonso II., Duke of Ferrara, then the most brilliant in Italy, and adorned by the beauty of that Leonora who was destined to exert so powerful an influence over the future fortunes of the bard. For a time all went well with Tasso; his Worst evil was poverty; and this, in the. flush of youth and health, he could easily encounter. He was rich in glorious visions o,f future renown, and he lived in the presence of the fairest ladies of the land, whose smiles were the guerdon of his muse. Soon, ho~e~er; the uncommon favor be- stowed upon the bard excited the envy of the cour- tiers, while his widely-s~reading fame awakened the jealousy of inferior poets; and. their attacks upon his reputation excited the anger of Tasso, who had the proverbial irritability of the poetic temperament. His frequent complaints, at length wearied the duke, who treated them with a haughty contempt the sensitive poet could ill sub- mit to. He several times attempted to throw himself on the protection of other princes; but as the duke, on the plea of its careful preservation, retained possession of his Jerusalem Delivered, he still returned to the court of Ferrarathe ladies Lucretia and Leonora as often interceding for him with their offended brother. It is not precisely known how the duke became aware of Tasso s passion for the Lady Leonora; but the knowledge certainly tended to confirm him in the belief that the poet was insane. He, a mere man of the world, occupied with his own importance, his naturally narrow mind unimproved by educaiion, could not enter into the poets anxieties regarding his poem and his fame; still less could he pardon the presumption he was guilty of in falling in love with a lady of royal birth, though her beauty, her talents, and her virtues, might well have warmed a heart far less susceptible than that of Tasso. From the friend and patron, he became the perse- cutor of the poet; he caused him to be confined in the hospital of St. Anne, in the part appropriated to the reception of lunatics ; and here, for several years, the unhappy Tasso found himself imprisoned in a dungeon, whose walls redchoed to the groans and frantic cries of the lunatics in the adjoining cells. He who had lived in every luxury, and in constant companionship with the most beautiful women and the most talented men of the age who delighted in the beauty of nature, and had a keen relish for all that was exquisite in artwhose mind was capable of the loftiest conceptions, and whose heart was alive to the purest affectionwas cabined in a cell which scarcely allowed him to stand upright. His person and dress were neg- lectedhis food was scanty and coarseand he had no society save his keeper and his own sad thoughts. It is no wonder, under the circum- stances, that he peopled this frightful solitude with spirits, both good and bad : it is rather a matter of surprise that a mind so sensitive as his should still have retained its powersthat his. heart should neither have broken in the strife, nor been hardened against all mankind. At length, at the repeated solicitations of many powerful princes, amon~g whom were the pope and the Duke of Mantua, lasso was liberated, and he immediately repaired to Mautna. But his health was impaired and his mind unsettled by his long confinement and privations: he wandered from Mantun to Rome, to Florence, and to Naples; then to Mantua again, staying a short time at each, until his restless and unhappy spirit urged him again to seek, in change of scene, that calm repose which exists only in the mind. During several years, while leading this desultory life, he was engaged in a lawsuit for the recovery of some property that he had inherited from his mo- ther; so that The oppressors wrong, the proud mans con- tumely, The pangs of despised love, the laws delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, fell heavily on the poor bard, who derived a pre- carious maintenance from the princes whose courts he honored with his presence. Though poor, he still retained his taste for splendor and luxury, and thought only of welling in the palaces of princes. Though perplexed by worldly cares, he never for- got that he was a poet striving for immortality; a lover whose passion, though trampled on as pre- sumption, and despised as madness, was to trans- mit to successive ages the knowledge of Leonora DEstea name which now, despite her re- markable beauty, her talents, her virtues, and her rank, would but for him have gone down to oblivion. As a last asylum, on the complete failure of his health, which was undermined by the restless spirit, as the scabbard is. worn by the sword, he repaired to the monastery of St. Onophrio at Rome,. which, being in an elevated and retired situation, was equally favorable to the restoration of~ his health and the composure of his mind. Tasso, at

2S TOO LATE. From Chambers Journal. TOO LATE. THE children of the earth, says Miss Bre- mer, in one of her admirable novels, struggle against the sharp sword of suffering for many, many years: they live-they sufferthey struggle. The sword is broken~ and they fall powerlessly downsuccess reaches to them the goblet-they touch their lips to the purple edge, and die. Every thoughtful arid experienced reader may, on reflection, remember some friend, or friends friends, to whom these remarks are applicable, for society is full of such instances; and even amidst the long record of those illustrious names that the world will not willingly let die, there are hut too many to whom the fair guerdon they looked to as the. reward of their laborious days caine indeed, but came too late: the eye was dim, the ear was closed, the hand was cold, the heart stillall so worn and weary in the long pursuit, that fruition came too late, and could not bless. Three hundred. years have not been able to diminish the fame of Torquato Tasso He with the glory round his furrowed brow, That emanated then, and dazzles now and yet the story of his lifb is an almost unvaried record of sorrow and suffering, of baffled hopes, of vain endeavor, of unmerited wrong. He was the son of Bernardo Tasso, a poet whose fame has been totally eclipsed by the superiority of his son; and gave indications, even from infancy, of the possession of an almost divine genius, which education and intimate companionship with the most celebrated men in Italy so developed and im- proved, that it was soon predicted of him that he would be the greatest poet of his age. When he was about twenty years of age, he was invited by Cardinal DEste to reside with him at the court of his brother, Alphonso II., Duke of Ferrara, then the most brilliant in Italy, and adorned by the beauty of that Leonora who was destined to exert so powerful an influence over the future fortunes of the bard. For a time all went well with Tasso; his Worst evil was poverty; and this, in the. flush of youth and health, he could easily encounter. He was rich in glorious visions o,f future renown, and he lived in the presence of the fairest ladies of the land, whose smiles were the guerdon of his muse. Soon, ho~e~er; the uncommon favor be- stowed upon the bard excited the envy of the cour- tiers, while his widely-s~reading fame awakened the jealousy of inferior poets; and. their attacks upon his reputation excited the anger of Tasso, who had the proverbial irritability of the poetic temperament. His frequent complaints, at length wearied the duke, who treated them with a haughty contempt the sensitive poet could ill sub- mit to. He several times attempted to throw himself on the protection of other princes; but as the duke, on the plea of its careful preservation, retained possession of his Jerusalem Delivered, he still returned to the court of Ferrarathe ladies Lucretia and Leonora as often interceding for him with their offended brother. It is not precisely known how the duke became aware of Tasso s passion for the Lady Leonora; but the knowledge certainly tended to confirm him in the belief that the poet was insane. He, a mere man of the world, occupied with his own importance, his naturally narrow mind unimproved by educaiion, could not enter into the poets anxieties regarding his poem and his fame; still less could he pardon the presumption he was guilty of in falling in love with a lady of royal birth, though her beauty, her talents, and her virtues, might well have warmed a heart far less susceptible than that of Tasso. From the friend and patron, he became the perse- cutor of the poet; he caused him to be confined in the hospital of St. Anne, in the part appropriated to the reception of lunatics ; and here, for several years, the unhappy Tasso found himself imprisoned in a dungeon, whose walls redchoed to the groans and frantic cries of the lunatics in the adjoining cells. He who had lived in every luxury, and in constant companionship with the most beautiful women and the most talented men of the age who delighted in the beauty of nature, and had a keen relish for all that was exquisite in artwhose mind was capable of the loftiest conceptions, and whose heart was alive to the purest affectionwas cabined in a cell which scarcely allowed him to stand upright. His person and dress were neg- lectedhis food was scanty and coarseand he had no society save his keeper and his own sad thoughts. It is no wonder, under the circum- stances, that he peopled this frightful solitude with spirits, both good and bad : it is rather a matter of surprise that a mind so sensitive as his should still have retained its powersthat his. heart should neither have broken in the strife, nor been hardened against all mankind. At length, at the repeated solicitations of many powerful princes, amon~g whom were the pope and the Duke of Mantua, lasso was liberated, and he immediately repaired to Mautna. But his health was impaired and his mind unsettled by his long confinement and privations: he wandered from Mantun to Rome, to Florence, and to Naples; then to Mantua again, staying a short time at each, until his restless and unhappy spirit urged him again to seek, in change of scene, that calm repose which exists only in the mind. During several years, while leading this desultory life, he was engaged in a lawsuit for the recovery of some property that he had inherited from his mo- ther; so that The oppressors wrong, the proud mans con- tumely, The pangs of despised love, the laws delay, The insolence of office, and the spurns That patient merit of the unworthy takes, fell heavily on the poor bard, who derived a pre- carious maintenance from the princes whose courts he honored with his presence. Though poor, he still retained his taste for splendor and luxury, and thought only of welling in the palaces of princes. Though perplexed by worldly cares, he never for- got that he was a poet striving for immortality; a lover whose passion, though trampled on as pre- sumption, and despised as madness, was to trans- mit to successive ages the knowledge of Leonora DEstea name which now, despite her re- markable beauty, her talents, her virtues, and her rank, would but for him have gone down to oblivion. As a last asylum, on the complete failure of his health, which was undermined by the restless spirit, as the scabbard is. worn by the sword, he repaired to the monastery of St. Onophrio at Rome,. which, being in an elevated and retired situation, was equally favorable to the restoration of~ his health and the composure of his mind. Tasso, at TOO LATE. the court of Aiphonso, in the pride of youth, man- liness, and talent, full of those lofty hopes which genius alone can inspire, and giving himself up to the passionate love of a beauty be could never hope to possess, even though his love was returned Tasso, in his dungeon at St. Annes, separated from human society, yet holding converse with imaginary forms of angelic loveliness, or striving with equally imaginary demons, yet with an intel- lect that shone out above all the darkness that overshadowed it, even as a rainbow whose very splendor exists between the glory and the cloud Tasso, in both these phases, has not so strong a claim upon our love, our admiration, and our pity, as Tasso in the last days of his eventful life, when he gave himself up entirely to the performance of the sacred duties of that religion which had been to him through life his ,protection, and was now his solace and reward. The monastery was so near to Rome, that the breeze of evening brought to the ears of the musing bard the hum of the thickly-peopled city; and he to whom all the changes of humanity were so painfully familiar, might well picture to himself the rush, the tur- moil, and the strife, which, though softened by the distance through which he heard them, had their origin in the life-and-death struggle ever carried on by the human passions keeping their restless vigil in its streets. Yet these conflicting crowds the oppressor and the oppressedhad one feeling in common, and that was reverence for the bard who had taken refuge among them. With all the eagerness of their national character, which enters earnestly into whatever subject addresses the mind through the medium of the senses, they prepared to attend his much-talked-of coronation in the capitol, where the pope was to confer upon him the laurel of Dante and Petrarchan honor that was to atone for all the wrongs he had suffered, all the neglect he had endured in the years g~ne by. Already, all that Rome had of noble, lovely, learned, or wealthy, was summoned to attend at, and swell the triumph of Tasso on the 25th of April, 1595, when Pope Clement was to invest him with that glorious wreath, the emblem of im- mortality, purchasedoh, how often !with a life-time of suffering. The eve was come: to- morrow, said the people, there will be a holiday to-morrow, said the literati, there will be a triumph to-morrow, said the gay beauty and the proud noble, there will be an assembly where I may dis- play myselfto-morrow, said the pope, I shall crown the greatest poet of the age with the laure- ate wreath, and my name shall go down to pos- terity with histo-morrow, said the bard, as he lay pale and fever-wasted on his narrow couch, listening to the last notes of the vesper service chanted by the monks of St. Onophrio to-mor- row I shall be alike indifferent to honor or neglect. Already the hand of death is on my heart. Slighted and oppressed through years of suffering, the fame that might have solaced and prolonged my life is now of no avail. I am about to enter into another and a brighter world. The crown they offer me is but a faint type of the one that awaits me there. And so it was: they who came to summon him to his coronation, found him in the sleep of deaththey were too late. He was interred, onthe day of his intended coro- nation, in the church of the monastery with great pomp; his laurel-crown being laid upon his coffin, and cardinals and princes hearing up his pall. In his person, Tasso was majestic; his manners wete 29 courtly and refined; his learning was extensive~ his natural talents almost unequalled ; his morals, for that age, were very pure, and he was always fearful of becoming profane or irreligious. It is perhaps too much to expect that minds like his should display, in conjunction with their finest attributes, the useful prudence that makes com- mon men successful; yet, were it but possible, how much would they gain by the union! Tasso would have escaped most of his troubles by paying more attention to the every-day affairs of life; but would he then have written for all time l Nay, did not those very troubles, while they made him turn more eagerly to his beloved poetry for conso- lation, teach him lessons of virtue too true and too profound to have been inculcated amidst the splen- did idleness of a dissolute court l Sweet are the uses of adversity to noble natures like that of Tasso; it not only corrects, but elevates them; for, as one of his biographers beautifully observes, The very darkness that conceals from us the beauty of the earth, displays, to our upward gaze, the glory of the heavens. There are few things more mysterious and ca- pricious than the way in which genius manifests itself. In fact, there is no calculating upon its advent; for it is sometimes hereditary in families, while elsewhere it appears unexpectedly, like a rare plant that unaccountably springs up, among the simple flowers of the field, from some wind- borne seed. Where it is hereditary, the clever father is often greatly surpassed by the extraordi- nary son, as in the case of the two Tassos and the two Mozarts; for though the elder Mozart was a good musician, it is through his sons fame that he is now remembered. Seldom, indeed, have talents so precocious as those of Wolfgang Mozart ripened into such perfection as his maturer years dis- played; in him the child was father to the man. From his sixth to his twelfth year, his father carried him in succession to the most splen- did courts of Europe; and everywhere his extra- ordinary talents surmounted all the formal barriers behind which rank, riches, and worldly prejudice intrench themselves against adventurers! Kings and princes were interested and amused; queens and princesses were delighted; musical professors and dilletantz were surprised, puzzled, and, in spite of their prejudices, pleased. At Vienna, the most cold and stately of European courts, the infant genius was called upon to exhibit his talents before that haughty and celebrated empress, Maria The- resa, and her sons, Joseph and Leopold, who were successively emperors of Austria. Here also were her daughters the archduchesses, and among them, preeminent in beauty, was Maria Antoinette, afterwards the too celebrated queen of France. Unabashed by the rank, undazzled by the beauty of his audience, the boy-musician gave himself up to the inspiration of his art, and became absorbed and entranced by what enchanted his auditorsa listening circle, fit subject for the pencil of some mast.er who had power to seize upon and transfer to his canvass the mutable expression of each face. The majesty of rank, of beauty, and of genius, had never finer representatives than in the persons of Maria Theresa, Maria Antoinette, and Mozart, whose petite figure, pale face, and large luminous eyes, sufficiently indicated his sensitive tempera- ment. When the musician had concluded, he passed before the circle to receive the compliments and gifts they were prepared to confer upon him. The floor was smooth and polished, and the boy 30 TOO LATE. slipped; his court-sword caught between his legs, and he would have fallen, had not Maria Antoi- nette, with the quick impulse of genuine kindness, sprung from her seat, and caught him by the arm. Mozart regained his footing, and placed himself at arms length from the arch-duchess, whose pure and brilliant complexion was heightened both by the suddenness of her action and the impulse that had prompted it. You are very beautiful, said the boy, looking into her kind, bright eyes; and when I am a man I will marry you. The brow of the empress-mother darkened, and the smile that the boys simplicity called forth on the faces of those present passed rapidly away. In early manhood Mozart repaired to Paris, as to a field where he might display his talents, and win his way to fortune and to fame. The arch- duchess who had been so kind to him at Vienna, was now the wife of Louis XVI.; she was queen of France, loveliest where all were lovely, gayest where all were gay. For her amusement talent was kept in constant requisition ; for her gratifi- cation riches were scattered without restraint. Her smile conferred happiness, her frown brought dis- grace; her caprice was the fashion, her will was law; apparently she was the most favored of the daughters of the earth. Meanwhile Mozart, who had thought to sun himself in her smile, met with nothing but difficulties; his character was essen- tially that of geniusgrave, tender, earnest; he could not conform to the heartless frivolities of the Parisian character, and his music was not popular. Indifference, neglect, contempt, and poverty, were the portion of the young composer in the very place where he had indulged so bright a day- dream of distinction, and he resolved on returning to his native land. Even there he was not at first successful; his long residence in Italy had influ- enced his stylehe was as much too gay and ornate for the grave Germans, as he had been too pure and grave for the gay Parisians. He was disappointed ; and as his occupation led him into the society of actors, artists, authors, composers, and their admirers, he was fast tending to dissi- pation. The misplaced love of Tasso was the cause of much of his suffering; a wiser affection preserved Mozart from the corrupting influences to which his public life exposed him. He became attached to Constance Weber, an actress, who had youth, beauty, and talent, and the far richer and more en- during charms of a temper that was sweet and firm, and a prudence and modesty seldom found in one of her profession. Her friends opposed their union, on the ground of Mozarts poverty and want of station in societyobjections the young musician firmly resolved on removing. Fortunately for him, the Elector of Bavaria, at this critical moment, desired him to compose an opera for the theatre at Munich. He seized the opportunity, and wrought with all the enthusiastic enemy of his nature, for his heart was in the work. It was his celebrated opera of Idomeneus, and Constance Weber was to play the principal character; her idea was thus, as it were, ever before him; and the whole of the music is said to be characterized by such grace, tenderness, and beauty, as only a man of genius in love, and trembling between hope and fear, could have produced. When first represented, it was received with unbounded applause, and its success so far established his reputation, and brightened his prospects, that Constance became his wife. From this time he devoted himself to his profes sion with steady and increasing industry; but the envy and opposition so generally attendant on superior genius fell to his lot; the profits derived from his works were uncertain, and his whole income was insufficient to maintain his family. Though settled at Vienna, and enjoying the favor of the emperor, he was obliged to toil daily for the bread of his little household; while the cabals of rival composers formed a source of misery to his too sensitive mind. He became, like Tasso, the victim of nervous apprehensions, and might proba- bly have manifested decided symptoms of insanity, but for the soothing tenderness of his wife. She not only managed their affairs with the utmost prudence, but she exerted all her powers to cheer and support the mind of Mozart. She read to him the night through, unconscious of fatigue; she entered into his hopes; she reasoned away his un- bounded fears; she had The laws of wifehood charactered in gold Upon the unblenched tablet of her heart A love still burning upward to give light To read those lawsan accent very low In blandishment, but a most silvery flow Of subtle-paced counsel in distress, Right to the heart and brain, though undescried, Winning its way with extreme gentleness Through all the outworks of suspicious pride; A courage to endure and to obeys and thus, through their gloomy and fitful fortunes, she was ever to him as a star of hope, brightest when all else was dark. Among his latest works was his Zauberfl~itte, or Magic Flute, which became widely popular from the first moment of its appear- ance; yet from this opera he did not derive the smallest profit; he had just completed the score of it, when a theatrical manager, reduced to extreme distress by a succession of misfortunes, came to implore his assistance: the generous but improvi- dent composer immediately gave him the score of the opera, which subsequently by its success relieved all his difficulties. Yet at this score, so freely given to one in distress, he had worked, for a considerable period, for sixteen and eighteen hours a-day; and if we consider the exhausting nature of his em- ployment, and the corroding anxieties of a pecuni- ary nature which still beset him, we cannot ~von- der that he was becoming prematurely old, and a prey to the most painful nervous disorders. Con- scious of his failing powers, yet unwilling to admit that he was the self-devoted martyr to his art, he fancied that his enemies had found means to ad- minister to hlm the famous aqua Toffano, and that he was perishing, by slow degrees, through that subtle poison. This idea was strengthened by th~ appearance of a stranger, who came to order the celebrated Requiem, and, despite reasonings of his wife and the raillery of his friends, he gave him- self up to the belief that it was for his own funeral the Requiem was ordered, and that the stranger had calculated the day of his decease. It was liberally paid for, and the daily wants of his family rendered the money acceptable; but Constance would gladly have dissuaded him from the appli- cation necessary to its completion in the given time: still, though he grew more feeble every day, he continued to compose with unremitting zeal, as if fearful that life would barely last till his work was done. In the mean time the emperor, having heard of his illness and his anxieties, appointed him chapel-master of St. ~tephens, a situation which at once secured him an easy competence, FRENCH DRAMATIC NOVELTIES. and freed him from the rivalry of his jealous com- petitors. The friend who hastened to communicate to Mozart the fortune that had at last arrived, found him in bed, busy on the score of the Re- quiem: at the announcement of his new appoint- ment a faint smile passed over his pale face; but when he looked on his beloved wife, so soon to be a desolate widow, surrounded by helpless orphans, the smile passed from his face as a wintery sun- beam leaves the snow-covered landscape, and he replied, It is too late! In a few days the magnificent Requiem, whose composition had, as it were, wrung the very life- drops from the heart of Mozart, was pcrformed in the unconscious presence of the now mute com- poser: often since has it been heard at the funerals of the mighty and the celebrated throughout the cities of civilized Europe; and thousands, as if penetrated by one feeling, swayed by one impulse, have bowed their heads to weep, overcome by the solemn grandeur of its harmony. His works are daily becoming more appreciated, and more widely spread, and form an imperishable monument to his memory. Had he lived to enjoy the competence that awaited him, he might have produced yet nobler works; but he perished in the very meridian of lifi~, his genius not exhausted, but crushed by the heavy hand of necessity. Like too many of the gifted ones of the earth, his fellow-men did n6t know how divine a spirit animated his clay till he parted from among them, and the knowledge came too late. From the Athenaum. FRENCH DRAMATIC NOVELTIES. Le Laird de Dumbiky, by M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS. LH6riti~re, by M. EMrIs. Don C6sar de Bazan, by MM. DUMANOIR and DENNERY. Le Miracle des Roses, by MM. ANTONY BERAND and HIPPOLYTE HosTEIN. Paris; London, Jeffs. WITHOUT going so far in search of the useful as the Parisian Cornelia, who would have Homers scenes embroidered on her pocket handkerchief for the instruction of her daughter, something beyond the passing moments diversion might perhaps be gathered from four five-act dramas, represented in the principal theatres of Paris, on one and the same evening ;did not another improvement occur to us. Our petulant neighbors have been long, and are still, in the habit of laughing at our dramatic taste and our dramatic doings. When the vulgar experiment was made in London of dramatizing the story of Madame Laffarge, loud was the outcry against British brutality they raised: forgetful that we only bettered the in- struction they had afforded us in the cases of our Kean, Mistriss S~ddons, Miss Kelly, and Bergami, (at that time M. Gozian had not attempted the lives of our queen and Prin~e Albert,)and over- looking a pleasant ballad in their own print-shop windows The complaint of the stomach of M. Laffarge (!!) set to music by a popular romance composer. If, by chance, our good-natured and lethargic opera audience does not immediately resist the pretensions of some second-rate singer, the journals of that public which hissed Rubini, and threw a funeral crown by way of farewell to Mademoiselle Marschorus the indifference of the Londoners to Genius! Let us for once see what may be said on the other side; it is to be hoped in somewhat of a fairer spirit. 31 It is true that not one of the four prose plays before us is a drama of extraordinary pretension. Yet scarcely ten years ago, the name of M. Dumas stood high among his contemporaries. Some grating familiarities of the school of romantic trag- edy being allowed for, his Henri Trois is a fair historical play, and as such deserves to keep its place at the national theatre; while, as a piece of construction, l]is Mademoiselle de Belleisle could hardly be overpraised. Of late, indeed, he has been playing fantastic tricks with a ven- geance: imagining Excursions on the Rhine, in which Herr Sinirock, of the Triersche Hof at Bonn, (a Boniface of the fewest possible words,) is set down for a most florid share in a most florid dialogue, asserted by the said host never to have taken placein which a tipsy English nobleman is represented as promiscuously drinking all sorts of Rhine wine, with every bearded Gaul who comes in his way, to drown his grief for a deceased wife ;in which the son of the state-executioner who beheaded Sand, is paraded Hamlet-wise, with a sort of poetical and ironical bitterness and melan- cholya true water-color sketch in the style of Byron ! But there is greater courage in this Laird of Dumbiky, than even in the aforesaid Excursions,a daring employment of the art of sinking, for which we were not prepared, even in so bold an artificer as M. Dumas. Some awkward idea of dramatizing Scotts Peveril of the Peak, has obviously furnished the ground-work to this drama. Leaving all that sketchy novels best part, its contrast between the Roundhead lawyer and the Derbyshire cavalier flinging, too, its historical interest overboard, M. Dumas has confined himself to its court intrigues, the persons of his comedy being, the merry Monarch the favorite BuckinghamJerning- ham his valetMac Allan, Laird of Dumbiky, the hero who gives his name to the playChiffinch John Bred, a horse dealerTom Gin, the keeper of the Scottish TliistleDikins and Russel, two tradesmenNelly Quinn (!)and Sarah Duncan, a young Scotch edition of Alice Bridgenorth. Nevertheless, in spite of the promise made by this list of the dramatis persone, there is nothing Scotch in the play, unless we are to take as such the astounding pedigree of the hero, whose uncle was David Mac Mahon, of Susquebaugh; or the fact that the Duke of Buckinghams Parc aux cerfs was at Clarence Market; or accept it as a touch of Done (not Drury) orange womans talk, that Nelly Quinnwho, by the way, has her Petit Trianon at Carlton Cottagebeing desirous of re- commending a young lady in whom she interests herself, does it by calling the damsel a Lucretia! Enough of these specimens of scholarship, in cos- tume and language: we would only entreat our honorable brethren, the French critics, to recollect them, when next they feel disposed to sneer at English mistakes in presenting their Lauzuns and Richelicus on our stage. M. Dumas management of incident in the drama is about as creditably careful as his knowledge. He has transcribed the smart scene from Scotts novel between the Duke and Jtrniugham, when the latter describes the press of suitors in the ante-room, only leaving all the smartness out. He has ayailed himself, too, word for word, of one of Fenellas piquant taunts to the Duke when she voluntarily has placed her- self in his power: but by using it differently, the pungency is neutralized. We could enumerate other poor takings from the English, as well as

FRENCH DRAMATIC NOVELTIES. and freed him from the rivalry of his jealous com- petitors. The friend who hastened to communicate to Mozart the fortune that had at last arrived, found him in bed, busy on the score of the Re- quiem: at the announcement of his new appoint- ment a faint smile passed over his pale face; but when he looked on his beloved wife, so soon to be a desolate widow, surrounded by helpless orphans, the smile passed from his face as a wintery sun- beam leaves the snow-covered landscape, and he replied, It is too late! In a few days the magnificent Requiem, whose composition had, as it were, wrung the very life- drops from the heart of Mozart, was pcrformed in the unconscious presence of the now mute com- poser: often since has it been heard at the funerals of the mighty and the celebrated throughout the cities of civilized Europe; and thousands, as if penetrated by one feeling, swayed by one impulse, have bowed their heads to weep, overcome by the solemn grandeur of its harmony. His works are daily becoming more appreciated, and more widely spread, and form an imperishable monument to his memory. Had he lived to enjoy the competence that awaited him, he might have produced yet nobler works; but he perished in the very meridian of lifi~, his genius not exhausted, but crushed by the heavy hand of necessity. Like too many of the gifted ones of the earth, his fellow-men did n6t know how divine a spirit animated his clay till he parted from among them, and the knowledge came too late. From the Athenaum. FRENCH DRAMATIC NOVELTIES. Le Laird de Dumbiky, by M. ALEXANDRE DUMAS. LH6riti~re, by M. EMrIs. Don C6sar de Bazan, by MM. DUMANOIR and DENNERY. Le Miracle des Roses, by MM. ANTONY BERAND and HIPPOLYTE HosTEIN. Paris; London, Jeffs. WITHOUT going so far in search of the useful as the Parisian Cornelia, who would have Homers scenes embroidered on her pocket handkerchief for the instruction of her daughter, something beyond the passing moments diversion might perhaps be gathered from four five-act dramas, represented in the principal theatres of Paris, on one and the same evening ;did not another improvement occur to us. Our petulant neighbors have been long, and are still, in the habit of laughing at our dramatic taste and our dramatic doings. When the vulgar experiment was made in London of dramatizing the story of Madame Laffarge, loud was the outcry against British brutality they raised: forgetful that we only bettered the in- struction they had afforded us in the cases of our Kean, Mistriss S~ddons, Miss Kelly, and Bergami, (at that time M. Gozian had not attempted the lives of our queen and Prin~e Albert,)and over- looking a pleasant ballad in their own print-shop windows The complaint of the stomach of M. Laffarge (!!) set to music by a popular romance composer. If, by chance, our good-natured and lethargic opera audience does not immediately resist the pretensions of some second-rate singer, the journals of that public which hissed Rubini, and threw a funeral crown by way of farewell to Mademoiselle Marschorus the indifference of the Londoners to Genius! Let us for once see what may be said on the other side; it is to be hoped in somewhat of a fairer spirit. 31 It is true that not one of the four prose plays before us is a drama of extraordinary pretension. Yet scarcely ten years ago, the name of M. Dumas stood high among his contemporaries. Some grating familiarities of the school of romantic trag- edy being allowed for, his Henri Trois is a fair historical play, and as such deserves to keep its place at the national theatre; while, as a piece of construction, l]is Mademoiselle de Belleisle could hardly be overpraised. Of late, indeed, he has been playing fantastic tricks with a ven- geance: imagining Excursions on the Rhine, in which Herr Sinirock, of the Triersche Hof at Bonn, (a Boniface of the fewest possible words,) is set down for a most florid share in a most florid dialogue, asserted by the said host never to have taken placein which a tipsy English nobleman is represented as promiscuously drinking all sorts of Rhine wine, with every bearded Gaul who comes in his way, to drown his grief for a deceased wife ;in which the son of the state-executioner who beheaded Sand, is paraded Hamlet-wise, with a sort of poetical and ironical bitterness and melan- cholya true water-color sketch in the style of Byron ! But there is greater courage in this Laird of Dumbiky, than even in the aforesaid Excursions,a daring employment of the art of sinking, for which we were not prepared, even in so bold an artificer as M. Dumas. Some awkward idea of dramatizing Scotts Peveril of the Peak, has obviously furnished the ground-work to this drama. Leaving all that sketchy novels best part, its contrast between the Roundhead lawyer and the Derbyshire cavalier flinging, too, its historical interest overboard, M. Dumas has confined himself to its court intrigues, the persons of his comedy being, the merry Monarch the favorite BuckinghamJerning- ham his valetMac Allan, Laird of Dumbiky, the hero who gives his name to the playChiffinch John Bred, a horse dealerTom Gin, the keeper of the Scottish TliistleDikins and Russel, two tradesmenNelly Quinn (!)and Sarah Duncan, a young Scotch edition of Alice Bridgenorth. Nevertheless, in spite of the promise made by this list of the dramatis persone, there is nothing Scotch in the play, unless we are to take as such the astounding pedigree of the hero, whose uncle was David Mac Mahon, of Susquebaugh; or the fact that the Duke of Buckinghams Parc aux cerfs was at Clarence Market; or accept it as a touch of Done (not Drury) orange womans talk, that Nelly Quinnwho, by the way, has her Petit Trianon at Carlton Cottagebeing desirous of re- commending a young lady in whom she interests herself, does it by calling the damsel a Lucretia! Enough of these specimens of scholarship, in cos- tume and language: we would only entreat our honorable brethren, the French critics, to recollect them, when next they feel disposed to sneer at English mistakes in presenting their Lauzuns and Richelicus on our stage. M. Dumas management of incident in the drama is about as creditably careful as his knowledge. He has transcribed the smart scene from Scotts novel between the Duke and Jtrniugham, when the latter describes the press of suitors in the ante-room, only leaving all the smartness out. He has ayailed himself, too, word for word, of one of Fenellas piquant taunts to the Duke when she voluntarily has placed her- self in his power: but by using it differently, the pungency is neutralized. We could enumerate other poor takings from the English, as well as FRENCH DRAMATIC NOVELTIESSALT IN AJ3YSSINIA. other rich specimens of Scotch; but the above in- stances suffice, and should count, if there be such a thing as international justice and courtesy. Precedence was due to M. Dumas on the score of his superior reputation; the place of honor, however, must, by right, fall to the author of The Heiress. Old or young, M. Empis is a bold man he has dared to hold up a pure and self-sacrificing morality for admiration, and abso- lutely brought his five acts to an end, without one of those awkward situations which make decent people turn aside and shudder. His hero is forty years old, a hard-working, ill-repaid man of office, who, from gratitude and love, hermeti- cally concealed from its object, watches over the fortunes of a young and beautiful heiress. They are desperatedly perilled by her being contracted in marriage to a Lovelace, his brother diplomate; whom, at the risk of being called a calumniator, and all the other black names in a gentlemans black list, Louis steadily and calmly unmasks. His simple but strong denunciation of duelling, as a means of redress and justification, must have sounded strangely in the Rue Richelieu, and, we hope, its echo will reach St. James street. The play, however, is not likely to retain long posses- sion of the stage, since M. Empis is neither strong in situation, dialogue, nor character. Measuring The Heiress against other modern French sentimental comedies, it has no personage so indi- vidual, as honest, blundering lawyer Ballandard, in Scribes Une Chaine, who serves as a scape- goat to every ones faults and follies, and reconciles himself to the opprobrium, by the idea that his fiancee, wbo had always blamed him for want of fashion and style, must be now content with a vengeance! Nor has the Heiress any moments so moving, as one or two in the Marie of Madame Ancelot. The language is sensible rather than sparkliiig; and the only distant approach to comic humoris in the character of a tender-hearted credulous dowager countess, whose fade sym- pathies and weak good-nature acquire an impres- siveness and color not their own, when played by that most gigantic of actresses, but that most thoroughly bred of court gentlewomenMadame Mante. We need say little of Don C6sar de Bazan, though it be the cleverest production of the quar- tett, as it has already been presented to the English at half-a-dozen theatres. The last work on the list, is one of those appearances which make it hard for sober people to determine in what age they live. Within one and the same week, we heard as a wonder gravely told, that the Munich Madona, who was moving her eyelids some three years ago, to the great edification of pilgrims, had ceased her marvellous winkings: and we listened to a recital of the new signs of grace which had manifested themselves in the Seraphic Virgin of the Tyroland this from neither a vulgar nor an ignorant speaker. Then came news of the marvellous pilgrimage to the relic of the stately old city of Treves! Never in the palmy days of the church were the throngs of devotees so nu- merous. The Moselle-boats have been crowded with anthem-singers, edified by the presence of bishops and archbishops, noble counts as well as simple peasants, and their steam-scents overpow- ered by the fumes of incense. The town has overflowed. Those who could not find lodgment or food in houses, have been entertained and feasted in booths pitched in the streets. Can this, we were tempted to ask, be our nineteenth century l Alas! yes; we had the irony as well as the sin- cerity of the matter brought before us in the pro- cession which crowded nightly the barriers of the Tlzditre Ambi~ u- Cbmique, to see The Miracle of the Roses,in other words, the acts and graces of Count Montalemberts heroine, St. Eliza- beth, served up in a melodrama. This is pro- loguized after the daring fashion of Goethes Faust; and to make the thing complete, as a junction of two extremes, quadrilles from The Miracle, were advertised, day by day, as an im- portant attraction A mad world! my masters. We are not going to weary our readers by any analysis of this splendidly-got-up piece of stupidity. The prose hardly rises above the point or pathos of the Lions of Mysore ; the verse would be yet more ridiculous, were it not worse. The real miracle of the play lies in the patience of th~ French with such an Alexandrine mass of dulness. M. Fleurys Memoirs, in some part, explained that recurrence to religious and mystical subjects presented in a like strange form, which took place during and after those convulsions in France when throne and altar were overthrown: but now, when ultra-philosophy and ultra-religionism seem alike out of fashion among our neighbors, it is difficult to conceive to what class belong the feelings which can respond to the long, and languid, and lugu- brious scenes of this ill-executed chronicle. But we are breaking our compact, which was not to be speculative. Let us accept, then, the play- things of the Parisians evening, for what he rates themmerely playthings. It were, perhaps, un- fair to take them as a specimen ; but if thus ac- cepted, we must believe that our sprightly neigh- bors are beginning to lose something of their ancient skill and neatness in the manufacture of fancy articles. Perhaps, on another occasion, we may find something better among the less ambi- tious dramatic novelties of the current autumn. SALT IN ABvssINIA.Whilst speaking of this article of food, it may be as well to observe, that its use appears to have been dictated by the situa- tion of the Aby~sinians. As an easy illustration by analogy, it may be safely supposed that salt is a more indispensable necedsary of life, and far more expensive in that country than the purest white sugar is in Europe. Children stand around the mother whilst engaged in any manner in which salt is employed, as in England little silent gazers are attracted around mamma when making sweet- ened dishes. Good housekeeping, with the Abys- sinians. consists chiefly in the economical manage- ment of their stock of salt; and among other notable modes of making a Jittle do duty for a considerable quantity, besides affording an addi- tional stimulant to the palate, is the system of combining it with pepper. An old Dutch method of executing criminals was confining them solely to the use of bread in which no salt was con- tained, and which ultimately occasioned death by the worms that were thus allowed to generate in the intestines. Many children in England have I seen who have certainly fallen victims to the foolish fear that they would eat too much salt; and I believe that disposition to scrofula the national disease, is chiefly owing to the vegetable diet of our children not being sufficiently attended to in the matter of this simple condiment. Be that as it may, the Abyssinians suffer considerably in their health from the difficulty of obtaining salt. Travels in Abyssinia by Charles Johnston.

FRENCH DRAMATIC NOVELTIESSALT IN AJ3YSSINIA. other rich specimens of Scotch; but the above in- stances suffice, and should count, if there be such a thing as international justice and courtesy. Precedence was due to M. Dumas on the score of his superior reputation; the place of honor, however, must, by right, fall to the author of The Heiress. Old or young, M. Empis is a bold man he has dared to hold up a pure and self-sacrificing morality for admiration, and abso- lutely brought his five acts to an end, without one of those awkward situations which make decent people turn aside and shudder. His hero is forty years old, a hard-working, ill-repaid man of office, who, from gratitude and love, hermeti- cally concealed from its object, watches over the fortunes of a young and beautiful heiress. They are desperatedly perilled by her being contracted in marriage to a Lovelace, his brother diplomate; whom, at the risk of being called a calumniator, and all the other black names in a gentlemans black list, Louis steadily and calmly unmasks. His simple but strong denunciation of duelling, as a means of redress and justification, must have sounded strangely in the Rue Richelieu, and, we hope, its echo will reach St. James street. The play, however, is not likely to retain long posses- sion of the stage, since M. Empis is neither strong in situation, dialogue, nor character. Measuring The Heiress against other modern French sentimental comedies, it has no personage so indi- vidual, as honest, blundering lawyer Ballandard, in Scribes Une Chaine, who serves as a scape- goat to every ones faults and follies, and reconciles himself to the opprobrium, by the idea that his fiancee, wbo had always blamed him for want of fashion and style, must be now content with a vengeance! Nor has the Heiress any moments so moving, as one or two in the Marie of Madame Ancelot. The language is sensible rather than sparkliiig; and the only distant approach to comic humoris in the character of a tender-hearted credulous dowager countess, whose fade sym- pathies and weak good-nature acquire an impres- siveness and color not their own, when played by that most gigantic of actresses, but that most thoroughly bred of court gentlewomenMadame Mante. We need say little of Don C6sar de Bazan, though it be the cleverest production of the quar- tett, as it has already been presented to the English at half-a-dozen theatres. The last work on the list, is one of those appearances which make it hard for sober people to determine in what age they live. Within one and the same week, we heard as a wonder gravely told, that the Munich Madona, who was moving her eyelids some three years ago, to the great edification of pilgrims, had ceased her marvellous winkings: and we listened to a recital of the new signs of grace which had manifested themselves in the Seraphic Virgin of the Tyroland this from neither a vulgar nor an ignorant speaker. Then came news of the marvellous pilgrimage to the relic of the stately old city of Treves! Never in the palmy days of the church were the throngs of devotees so nu- merous. The Moselle-boats have been crowded with anthem-singers, edified by the presence of bishops and archbishops, noble counts as well as simple peasants, and their steam-scents overpow- ered by the fumes of incense. The town has overflowed. Those who could not find lodgment or food in houses, have been entertained and feasted in booths pitched in the streets. Can this, we were tempted to ask, be our nineteenth century l Alas! yes; we had the irony as well as the sin- cerity of the matter brought before us in the pro- cession which crowded nightly the barriers of the Tlzditre Ambi~ u- Cbmique, to see The Miracle of the Roses,in other words, the acts and graces of Count Montalemberts heroine, St. Eliza- beth, served up in a melodrama. This is pro- loguized after the daring fashion of Goethes Faust; and to make the thing complete, as a junction of two extremes, quadrilles from The Miracle, were advertised, day by day, as an im- portant attraction A mad world! my masters. We are not going to weary our readers by any analysis of this splendidly-got-up piece of stupidity. The prose hardly rises above the point or pathos of the Lions of Mysore ; the verse would be yet more ridiculous, were it not worse. The real miracle of the play lies in the patience of th~ French with such an Alexandrine mass of dulness. M. Fleurys Memoirs, in some part, explained that recurrence to religious and mystical subjects presented in a like strange form, which took place during and after those convulsions in France when throne and altar were overthrown: but now, when ultra-philosophy and ultra-religionism seem alike out of fashion among our neighbors, it is difficult to conceive to what class belong the feelings which can respond to the long, and languid, and lugu- brious scenes of this ill-executed chronicle. But we are breaking our compact, which was not to be speculative. Let us accept, then, the play- things of the Parisians evening, for what he rates themmerely playthings. It were, perhaps, un- fair to take them as a specimen ; but if thus ac- cepted, we must believe that our sprightly neigh- bors are beginning to lose something of their ancient skill and neatness in the manufacture of fancy articles. Perhaps, on another occasion, we may find something better among the less ambi- tious dramatic novelties of the current autumn. SALT IN ABvssINIA.Whilst speaking of this article of food, it may be as well to observe, that its use appears to have been dictated by the situa- tion of the Aby~sinians. As an easy illustration by analogy, it may be safely supposed that salt is a more indispensable necedsary of life, and far more expensive in that country than the purest white sugar is in Europe. Children stand around the mother whilst engaged in any manner in which salt is employed, as in England little silent gazers are attracted around mamma when making sweet- ened dishes. Good housekeeping, with the Abys- sinians. consists chiefly in the economical manage- ment of their stock of salt; and among other notable modes of making a Jittle do duty for a considerable quantity, besides affording an addi- tional stimulant to the palate, is the system of combining it with pepper. An old Dutch method of executing criminals was confining them solely to the use of bread in which no salt was con- tained, and which ultimately occasioned death by the worms that were thus allowed to generate in the intestines. Many children in England have I seen who have certainly fallen victims to the foolish fear that they would eat too much salt; and I believe that disposition to scrofula the national disease, is chiefly owing to the vegetable diet of our children not being sufficiently attended to in the matter of this simple condiment. Be that as it may, the Abyssinians suffer considerably in their health from the difficulty of obtaining salt. Travels in Abyssinia by Charles Johnston. From the Athennum. Travels of Leo Von Rozmital, through the West of Europe, A. D. 146567.[Reise, 4-c.]Pub- lished by the Literary Union of Stuttgard. Lon- don, Williams & Norgate. WE have already introduced to our readers the publications of the Stuttgard Literary Union, of which the seventh volume is now laid before us. Though hardly as amusing as the peregrinations of Felix Faber, through the Holy Land, [ante, p. 419,] this pilgrimage of the Bohemian nobleman, Leo von Roamital, presents a curious contrast to the tales of travellers in our days. Here is no irreverent haste, in its railway flight, regardless of shrines, relics, and sanctuaries, and leaving behind, unnoticed, all the monuments of the past. Whatever were the political negotiations intrusted to the care of the noble pilgrim, they did not pre- vent him from staying to pay his devotions at every hallowed spot. Of his supposed political errand we find nothing in the accounts given by his followers; their talk is of courts, tournaments, relics, and miracles. Leo was the brother-in-law of George, king of Bohemia, and set out on his journey, probably with some diplomatic mission, November 26,1466. Two accounts are given of his pilgrimage; one by a Bohemian, named Schasehek, and the other by one Tetzel, a native of Nuremberg. The ori- ginal Bohemian is lost; but a Latin translation, made about a century after the journey, by Stan- islaus Pawlowski, afterwards bishop of Olmutz, has been preserved, and is now presented to us in this beautifully-printed volume. Schasehek seems to have been his masters appointed chronicler; but we prefer the old-fashioned German of Tetzel, who writes apparently from memory, and in a more familiar and gossiping style. In one respect his memoranda may be a model for writers of trav- els, for their purely objective style. He never turns away from the curiosities presented to his notice in venerable relics, costly shrines, and splendid courts, to indulge in sentiments or talk about himself. The contrast between the real and the ideal was not discovered in his day. The world seems to fit exactly to his mind. He utters no exclamations of disappointment, never breathes a hint of skepticism; but tells you great wonders with all the quiet assurance of a man who only states some obvious fact about the weather. There are many gQldsmiths in London, and there is at London a crucifix which has been heard to speak, are equally common-place facts with Tetzel. It is the tale of wonder issuing from the lips contrmted with the quiet gravity settled upon the countenance, which gives to our old trav- ellers their pleasing na~vet& In one point his narrative, like all old tales of travellers, disappoints us: he tells us little of the people; indeed, there were no people in his day. How could he fore- see that we should ever be so unreasonably curious as to inquire how the common people fared, what xxxiv. LIVING AGE. VOL. xv. 3 33 sort of houses, beds, food, clothing, and furniture they had! He gives us the cream of his obser- vations, in the shape of gay courts and dead mens bones, and leaves us to guess about such thrice- skimmed sky-blue as the lives and customs of ordinary people. At Nuremberg our pilgrims stayed to enjoy their first treat of dry and mouldering relics. Thence they proceeded to Heidelberg, Frankfort, Mayence, and Cologne, where they attended the festival of the Three Kings. Next they journey- ed to Brussels, Bruges, and Calais; then crossed the channel where the sea made my lord and his companions so ill that they lay on the deck like dead men,caught a sight of high, chalky- mountains, and a castle built by evil demons, (at Dover,) and landed at Sandwich, where it is the custom for people to go about the streets with music all night, shouting and telling from what point the wind blows. From Sandwich they hastened to the shrine of St. Thomas ?t Beck- ett, where they found an immense collection of precious relics; such were the curiosities of Can- terbury in the olden time Here we saw his sepulchre cast in pure gold, studded with gems, and enriched with such mag- nificent donations that I know of nothing equal to it. Among other precious things, there is a car- buncle, half the size of a hens egg, which emits radiance during the night. All the relics of St. Thomas were shown to ushis head and the pil- lar before the chapel of the Virgin, beside which he used to pray, and, indeed, hold converse with the Blessed Virgin, as was seen and heard by many witnesses. But three hundred years ~iave passed away since these things were done. In the convent there is a fountain, the water of which has been five times converted into blood, and once into milk; and this happened shortly before our visit. We saw, also, the head-dress of the Bless- ed Virgin, a fragment of the garment of Christ, and three thorns from his crown. Also, we be- held the shirt of St. Thomas, and his brain, and the blood of the Apostles St. Thomas, and St. John; the sword with which St. Thomas of Can- terbury was beheaded, a portion of the Virgins hair, and a fragment from her sepulchre; also, part of the shoulder of St. Simeon, who held Christ in his arms, one of the legs of St. George, part of the body and bones of St. Lawrence, the leg of the Virgin Recordia, and the leg of St. Mil- dred the Virgin. We saw, also, a tooth of John the Baptist, part of the cross of the Apostles Peter and Andrew, the bones of St. Philip and St. James the Apostles, a tooth and a finger of the martyr Stephen, the bones of St. Catherine the Virgin.~. and some oil from her tomb, which, they say,~ flows to this day; also, the hair of the blessed Mary Magdalene, a tooth of St. Benedict, a finger of St. Urban, the lips of one of the infants slain by Herod, the bones of St. Clement, and the bones of St. Vincent. Besides these, many things were shown to us which I do not specify here. A ghastly inventory! but we must turn to Tet- zel for further notices of England in the fifteenth century TRAVELS OF LEO VON ROZMITAL.

From the Athennum. Travels of Leo Von Rozmital, through the West of Europe, A. D. 146567.[Reise, 4-c.]Pub- lished by the Literary Union of Stuttgard. Lon- don, Williams & Norgate. WE have already introduced to our readers the publications of the Stuttgard Literary Union, of which the seventh volume is now laid before us. Though hardly as amusing as the peregrinations of Felix Faber, through the Holy Land, [ante, p. 419,] this pilgrimage of the Bohemian nobleman, Leo von Roamital, presents a curious contrast to the tales of travellers in our days. Here is no irreverent haste, in its railway flight, regardless of shrines, relics, and sanctuaries, and leaving behind, unnoticed, all the monuments of the past. Whatever were the political negotiations intrusted to the care of the noble pilgrim, they did not pre- vent him from staying to pay his devotions at every hallowed spot. Of his supposed political errand we find nothing in the accounts given by his followers; their talk is of courts, tournaments, relics, and miracles. Leo was the brother-in-law of George, king of Bohemia, and set out on his journey, probably with some diplomatic mission, November 26,1466. Two accounts are given of his pilgrimage; one by a Bohemian, named Schasehek, and the other by one Tetzel, a native of Nuremberg. The ori- ginal Bohemian is lost; but a Latin translation, made about a century after the journey, by Stan- islaus Pawlowski, afterwards bishop of Olmutz, has been preserved, and is now presented to us in this beautifully-printed volume. Schasehek seems to have been his masters appointed chronicler; but we prefer the old-fashioned German of Tetzel, who writes apparently from memory, and in a more familiar and gossiping style. In one respect his memoranda may be a model for writers of trav- els, for their purely objective style. He never turns away from the curiosities presented to his notice in venerable relics, costly shrines, and splendid courts, to indulge in sentiments or talk about himself. The contrast between the real and the ideal was not discovered in his day. The world seems to fit exactly to his mind. He utters no exclamations of disappointment, never breathes a hint of skepticism; but tells you great wonders with all the quiet assurance of a man who only states some obvious fact about the weather. There are many gQldsmiths in London, and there is at London a crucifix which has been heard to speak, are equally common-place facts with Tetzel. It is the tale of wonder issuing from the lips contrmted with the quiet gravity settled upon the countenance, which gives to our old trav- ellers their pleasing na~vet& In one point his narrative, like all old tales of travellers, disappoints us: he tells us little of the people; indeed, there were no people in his day. How could he fore- see that we should ever be so unreasonably curious as to inquire how the common people fared, what xxxiv. LIVING AGE. VOL. xv. 3 33 sort of houses, beds, food, clothing, and furniture they had! He gives us the cream of his obser- vations, in the shape of gay courts and dead mens bones, and leaves us to guess about such thrice- skimmed sky-blue as the lives and customs of ordinary people. At Nuremberg our pilgrims stayed to enjoy their first treat of dry and mouldering relics. Thence they proceeded to Heidelberg, Frankfort, Mayence, and Cologne, where they attended the festival of the Three Kings. Next they journey- ed to Brussels, Bruges, and Calais; then crossed the channel where the sea made my lord and his companions so ill that they lay on the deck like dead men,caught a sight of high, chalky- mountains, and a castle built by evil demons, (at Dover,) and landed at Sandwich, where it is the custom for people to go about the streets with music all night, shouting and telling from what point the wind blows. From Sandwich they hastened to the shrine of St. Thomas ?t Beck- ett, where they found an immense collection of precious relics; such were the curiosities of Can- terbury in the olden time Here we saw his sepulchre cast in pure gold, studded with gems, and enriched with such mag- nificent donations that I know of nothing equal to it. Among other precious things, there is a car- buncle, half the size of a hens egg, which emits radiance during the night. All the relics of St. Thomas were shown to ushis head and the pil- lar before the chapel of the Virgin, beside which he used to pray, and, indeed, hold converse with the Blessed Virgin, as was seen and heard by many witnesses. But three hundred years ~iave passed away since these things were done. In the convent there is a fountain, the water of which has been five times converted into blood, and once into milk; and this happened shortly before our visit. We saw, also, the head-dress of the Bless- ed Virgin, a fragment of the garment of Christ, and three thorns from his crown. Also, we be- held the shirt of St. Thomas, and his brain, and the blood of the Apostles St. Thomas, and St. John; the sword with which St. Thomas of Can- terbury was beheaded, a portion of the Virgins hair, and a fragment from her sepulchre; also, part of the shoulder of St. Simeon, who held Christ in his arms, one of the legs of St. George, part of the body and bones of St. Lawrence, the leg of the Virgin Recordia, and the leg of St. Mil- dred the Virgin. We saw, also, a tooth of John the Baptist, part of the cross of the Apostles Peter and Andrew, the bones of St. Philip and St. James the Apostles, a tooth and a finger of the martyr Stephen, the bones of St. Catherine the Virgin.~. and some oil from her tomb, which, they say,~ flows to this day; also, the hair of the blessed Mary Magdalene, a tooth of St. Benedict, a finger of St. Urban, the lips of one of the infants slain by Herod, the bones of St. Clement, and the bones of St. Vincent. Besides these, many things were shown to us which I do not specify here. A ghastly inventory! but we must turn to Tet- zel for further notices of England in the fifteenth century TRAVELS OF LEO VON ROZMITAL. 34 From Canterbury we rode through the king- dom of England to the head city, called Lund, [London,] where the king holds his court. It is a very brave and noble city, and carries on trade with all countries. There is a multitude of people in it, many trades-people, especially goldsmiths and cloth-makers, and very beautiful women. In the city we found the king [Edward IV.] who, when he heard of my masters arrival, had a cost- ly lodging-place prepared for him, and sent out to meet him his herald and some of his courtiers, with whom my lord rode into the city. The king soon after invited my master to his court. Here we saw the very great reverence which his ser- vants paid to him; great noblemen have to kneel before him. Also, he gave his hand to my lord and his noble companions. Then my lord ac- quainted him with the purpose of his journey, and the king was very well pleased with it, and be- haved very friendly towards my lord. The king is a very proper, handsome man, and has the finest set of courtiers that a man may find in Christen- dom. After some days he invited my Lord Leo and all his noble companions, and gave them a very costly feast, and also he gave to each of them the medal of his order, to every knight a golden one and to every one who was not a knight a sil- ver one, and he himself hung them upon their necks. Another day the king called us to court. In the morning the queen [Elizabeth Woodville] went from child-bed to church with a splendid procession of many priests, bearing relics, and many scholars, all singing and carrying burning ~candles. Besides there was a great company of women and maidens from the country and from london, who were bidden to attend. There were :nlso a great number of trumpeters, pipers, and ther players, with forty-two of the kings sing- dug men, who sang very sweetly. Also, there were four-and-twenty heralds and pursuivants, and sixty lords and knights. Then came the queen, led by two dukes, and with a canopy borne over ~her head. Behind her followed her mother and ~above sixty ladies and maidens. Having heard the service sung, and kneeled down in the church, she returned with the same procession to her pal- ace. Here all who had taken a part in the pro- cession were invited to a feast, and all sat down, the men and the women, the clergy and the laity, each in his rank, filling four large rooms. Also, the king invited my lord and all his noble attend- ants to the table where he usually dined with his courtiers. And one of the kings greatest lords must sit at the kings table, upon the kings stool, 7iu the place of the king; and my lord sat at the same table, only two steps below him. Then all the honors which were due to the king had to be paid to the lord who sat in his place, and also to my lord, and it is incredible what ceremonies we observed there. While we were eating, the king was making presents to all the trumpeters, pipers, players, and heralds; to the last alone he gave four hundred nobles, and every one when he re- ceived his pay, came to the tables and told aloud what the king had given him. When my lord had done eating, he was conducted into a costly, ~ornamented room, where the queen was to dine, and there he was seated in a corner that he might see all the expensive provisions. The queen sat down on a golden stool alone at her table, and her smother and the kings sister stood far below her. And when the queen spoke to her mother or to ~the kings sister, they kneeled down every tim0 TRAVELS OF LEO VON ROZMITAL. before her, and remained kneeling until the queen drank water. And all her ladies and maids, and those who waited upon her, even great lords, had to kneel while she was eating, which continued three hours. (!) After dinner there was dancing; but the queen remained sitting upon her stool, and her mother kneeled before her. The kings sis- ter danced with two dukes, and the beautiful dances and reverences performed before the queen the like I have never seen, nor such beautiful maidens. Among them were eight duchesses, and above thirty countesses and others, all daughters of great people. After the dance the kings sing- ing men came in and sang. When the king heard mass sung in his private chapel, my lord was ad- mitted. Then the king had his relics shown t~ us, and many sacred things in London. Among them we saw a stone from the Mount of Olives upon which there is the foot-print of Jesus Christ, our ladys girdle, and many other relics. * * * England is a small country, long and narrow, full of villages, towns, castles, woods, and cultivated fields. There are many wide heaths, in some parts affording pasturage, in others only reeds and rushes. The greatest produce of the land is in sheep. These find pasturage through summer and winter upon the heaths. There are also sev- eral parks, with many rare animals in them. Heath is burned instead of wood. There is little wine, corn, or wood there, save what is brought over the sea. The common people drink a liquor that is called Al selpir. After a visit to the Duke of Clarence, Leo and his company embarked at Poole, and arrived in Brittany, where they were hospitably received by the Duke Francis II. They found Louis XI. re- tired in some little town about three days journey from Tours, where his sister Magdalena lived, who was never seen to smile after the death of the young king of Bohemia, to whom she was betrothed In this little town we could find no lodgings, nor anywhere within two miles of it; so we stay- ed at a village about three miles from the town. On the third day the king of France (Louis XI.) invited my lord, treated him very kindly, bidding him demand whatever provisions he required, and introduced him to the queen. According to their fashion, the queen and all her maids embraced my lord in their arms, and each of them kissed him upon the mouth. This the king commanded, and would have it done. After that, the queen and all her maids gave their hands to all my lords noble attendants, and conducted themselves in a very friendly way. The king had a rich feast prepared for my lord and all his company, and no man would believe all the costly rarities, silver plate, fine dainties, and noblemen and gentlemen serving at the table, we had there. The king invited my lord to visit Paris, and stay with him a year, or at least, half a year. It was said that the king had never shown such regard to any prince or noble- man, not even to the queen, as to my lord. He paid all the expenses of our lodging. The king is not a tall man, has black hair, a brown com- plexion, eyes deep set in his head, a long nose, and thin legs. They say he is an enemy to the Germans. His most favorite amusement is the chase; he likes to live in little places rather than TRAVELS OF LEO VON ROZMITAL. in great towns, and has above sixty guards, who always keep watch in armor at the door of his chamber. The queen is a tolerably fair woman; but her maids are as beatAtiful as a man may find in Christendom. From the king of France we rode to Tours, which is a very handsome, well- built town. Here is the lady [Magdalena] who was betrothed to King Ladislaus, of Bohemia, but is now married to Gaston de Fois, whom the king has made chief magistrate of the town. My lord wished to see the lady; but when she heard that he was a Bohemian, and the kings brother, she would not see him. But in the morning we saw her in the church. She made no other reverence to my lord than a bow of the head. The Bohe- mians who came for her (as the bride of Ladislaus) stayed in this town, and set up their escutcheons here; but it is said she ordered them to be torn and covered with mire. It is also said that the lady has never been seen to smile since the death of King Ladislaus. She is of middle stature, and rather sallow under her eyes; but it is said she is now not half so fair as when she was betrothed to King Ladislaus. From Tours they journeyed to Bordeaux, and from Gascony into Spain, which they found dis- tracted with political contentions between John the Second of Aragon, and the supporters of his eldest son, Don Carlos, and between Henry the Fourth of Castile, and his younger brother, Don Alonzo. This was no country for our pleasure-seeking, shrine-visiting pilgrims, and, accordingly, they hastened on their way to Portugal, and to the fa- mous shrine of Compostella, apparently one of the chief objects of their journey. At Burgos they find food for their love of wonders in a story of a crucifix, which caine to land, none knew whence, in a vessel The holy bishop who took the crucifix out of the chest in which it lay, had four brothers, who were all Jews before this time, but afterwards they did not long continue so. They were all convert- ed, and afterwards became bishops, leading a very saintly life, building many churches, and releasing many Christian prisoners out of the hands of the heathen. The eldest brother became such a holy man, that the crucifix would converse with him and bow to him. In Almeida, as it appears, they found, with some difficulty, access to Henry the Second of Castile, of whom Tetzel gives no favorable char- acter The king entertains many of the heathen at his court, to whom he has given the land, having driven away many Christians. He eats, drinks, and dresses in the heathen fashion, is an enemy to Christians, a great sinner, and leads, altogether, an unchristian life. He invited my lord into his presence, after three days, and we found him, with his queen, seated upon the ground. The queen wondered greatly at the sight of our hair. She is a dark, handsome woman; but the king has an aversion to her. On account of his wickedness and persecution of the Ch4stians, his subjects have set up his younger brother against him, and it is hoped that the old king will be driven out of the country. While we stayed with him we had many quarrels with the heathen, and were some- times in peril. The king made no presents to my lord, nor would he pay the expenses of our lodg- ings. It was thought that he dare not do it for fear of the heathen; but he gave my lord passports through his kingdom. After enjoying all the wonders of Compostella, the pilgrims rode as far as Cape Finisterre ( finis terr& ) the end of the world, as Tetzel calls it, where nothing is to be seen but the sky and the water, and nobody knows what lies beyond ; but there is a story of certain galleys sent out by the king of Portugal to make discoveries, one of which only returned, after three years absence, having lost the greater part of its crew, while the remainder were burnt black by the sun. We fear religious instruction has made no great progress in some countries since Tetzels day In Portugal there are many strange customs. The priests, in some parts, know nothing of Latin, and preach no other gospel save repeating the ten commandments and announcing the holy days; while, in some places, there is no confession save kneeling before the altar and saying over the confiteor. The slave-trade in Portugal is noticed by the travellers. They passed by Madrid as a place of little importance, and rode to the convent of St. Jeromes order, among the hills of Guadaloupe, where they found abundance of their favorite lux- uries,relics and other holy materials In this convent there are the most devout monks that I have ever seen, and the prior is a German. Their rule is very strictwhether seat- ed in their cells, or standing in the church or eating at table, or lying in bed, there is written up before them, Thou must die. The monk, whether eating or singing in the choir, standing or lying down, must constantly think of this: this is their rule. And you see many of them, as they think of it, shedding tears. The convent is very rich, though for three miles all around it nothing grows, neither corn, nor fruits, nor xvines; all must be procured from a distance. Here once happened a great miracle. A king of Castile came out against the convent, and surrounded it with his troops; for he would know the value of the treasures it contained. But God and our dear lady were so displeased with this, that they smote him and all his men with blindness. The king knew that this was from God, and prayed God and our lady that he might have his sight again, for which he would give to the convent everything within ten miles around it. As soon as he had made this vow, he and all his men recovered their sight. He kept his vow, and thus the convent is so very wealthy that I dare say you may find a couple of princes in Germany who could not boast such wealth as this convent. In Toledo, our pilgrims stayed to admire the head of John the Baptist, and the most splendid illuminated Bible in the world. King John the Second received them hospitably in Saragossa; but, against his advice, they proceeded thence to Barcelona, through Catalonia, where there Was au THE ANNUALS FOR 1845. insurrection in favor of the Duke of Calabria. Next they journeyed through Montpellier and Avignon to Milan Milan is a very fine and well-built city, where there are great tradesmen nnd many good handi- craftsmen. And here is the finest fortress in Christendom. We saw, too, the excellent house of Cosmo de Medicis. There is a great popula- tion in the city, and it contains the nshes of St. Ambrose, who was bishop here in A. D. 1085.,, At Neustadt, (Vienna,) Leo suffered from the travellers greatest misfortuneatrophy of the purse Here we remained eight days, and were en- tertained every day by the empress and her ladies with dancing, & c. The empress had great delight in the Portuguese dances, which my lords lute- player introduced to her, and in the apes and blackamoors which her brother, the king of Por- tugal, had presented to my lord. Also the king j, Maximilian] would learn to play the lute and the ortuguese dances. But here my lord had con- sumed his money, and had to pawn a rich sleeve, valued at ten thousand guilders, for which a Jew in Neustadt gave him only about twelve hundred. Thence we rode to the king of Hungary, who re- fused to give my lord an escort. When we en- tered Bohemia again, a procession of students, from Prague, bearing relics, with many of the clergy, the nobility, the common people, and a hundred trumpeters, came out to meet my lord. The queen, too, was looking out, and witnessed my lords arrival. Then he was invited immedi- ately to the court, with all his attendants, and the king and the queen came forward to meet him in a very friendly manner.~~ Like all old travellers, as we have said, the chronicler of Leos pilgrimage disappoints us. He never dreamed that we should desire to know anything of the common-place circumstances of the people, or that the things most familiar and uninteresting to his eyethe every-day realities of the men and women of his daywould be most interesting to us. We follow him through many towns for notices of life in the olden time; but he turns away from all the life and movement around him to entertain us with apocryphal stories about dry bones. A quaint Livonian rhymed chronicle, of some interest for German antiquaries occupies the re- mainder of the volume. From the Athenicum. THE ANNUALS FOil 1845. The Book of Beauty. The Keepsake. THE critic, as we have often declared, can hardly hold his court over the illustrations in these gay volumes. As one of the rhymesters A Septa- genarian whom the spell of the Editress has gal- vanized into a songpleads, Not two stars on oceans glass Shine alike of crystal made; Not two daises on the grass Crimson to the selfsame shade. Trim the lamps of yonder sky, Paint the field-flowers, thou who earest; But to value lip and eye Out on rules! the last are fairest! Following, therefore, in the wake of this incon- stant old gentleman, we will not attempt to mea- sure the beauties for 1845 against those of preced- ing years; but be content to state that Mr. Swin- tons portrait of Lady Douro, on the exhibition of which at the Royal Academy such good hopes for its artist were based, forms the frontispiece to the volumeand venture a word of disappointment at the ineffectiveness of Mr. Thorburns miniatures (which we have so often admired) when trans- ferred to copper. The letter-press of this showy book holds the even tenor of its way in right of Mr. Landors conversation betwixt zEsop and Rhodope, and of a Decameron of lively tales among the tellers of which it were ungallant not to specify Lady Blessington herself, Mrs. Hall, and Mrs. Romer. There are also a few pages on Epitaphs (the last in the book) by Mr. Monckton Milnes, worth keeping It is now many years ago since I was detained a week at the small town of Otranto in Calabria. The innkeeper told me he knew its castle was very famous in English history, and was very sorry it had totally disappeared. There was, however, no want of ruins about the town: tombs and walls of the old Roman time, when Horace did not get quite so far south, content with Brin- disi; churches and chapels of that later and stranger period, when the Northman added his fame and his art to Italian history, when above the very plain of Cannai was raised the Gothic tomb of Boemond, whose epitaph concludes with Non hominum possum dicere, nob Deum. In one of those deserted churches my attention was drawn to a slab of marble embedded in acan- thus, and, with a wayward curiosity, I labored till I had raised it once more to light: there was an inscription on it which I deciphered with diffi- culty, In mternam memoriani * * * * * * It broke off there, and the edges of the fragment ironically expressed the eternity of human memo- ries. We all know this; we all know with how little interest we regard the monuments that crowd our churches, and with how little care we clear away the mould from the lasting trihute of affec- tion, or disturb the spider-web round the head of the weeping cherub: how very seldom a tomb- stone is mended! how very seldom an effaced in- scription restored! Let the dead die; it is well it should be so, when they who have known and loved the dead are gone too; when the builders of the tomb are themselves laid idle in another grave, let time have his way here as elsewhere; and we must he content, if he good-humoredly allows our little struggles to hold him back a moment on his conquering way. Let us raise such monuments as satisfy ourselves and our immediate descend- ants. My own feeling is strongly in favor of Latin inscriptions. There is something incisive and lapidary in the Latin language, in all its phases; the inscriptions on the Roman monuments and edifices of yesterday are as noble and as be- coming as even those on a Scipios tomb. Then, too, there appears to me to be a fit reserve in con- fining the record of ones affection within a certain 36

THE ANNUALS FOR 1845. insurrection in favor of the Duke of Calabria. Next they journeyed through Montpellier and Avignon to Milan Milan is a very fine and well-built city, where there are great tradesmen nnd many good handi- craftsmen. And here is the finest fortress in Christendom. We saw, too, the excellent house of Cosmo de Medicis. There is a great popula- tion in the city, and it contains the nshes of St. Ambrose, who was bishop here in A. D. 1085.,, At Neustadt, (Vienna,) Leo suffered from the travellers greatest misfortuneatrophy of the purse Here we remained eight days, and were en- tertained every day by the empress and her ladies with dancing, & c. The empress had great delight in the Portuguese dances, which my lords lute- player introduced to her, and in the apes and blackamoors which her brother, the king of Por- tugal, had presented to my lord. Also the king j, Maximilian] would learn to play the lute and the ortuguese dances. But here my lord had con- sumed his money, and had to pawn a rich sleeve, valued at ten thousand guilders, for which a Jew in Neustadt gave him only about twelve hundred. Thence we rode to the king of Hungary, who re- fused to give my lord an escort. When we en- tered Bohemia again, a procession of students, from Prague, bearing relics, with many of the clergy, the nobility, the common people, and a hundred trumpeters, came out to meet my lord. The queen, too, was looking out, and witnessed my lords arrival. Then he was invited immedi- ately to the court, with all his attendants, and the king and the queen came forward to meet him in a very friendly manner.~~ Like all old travellers, as we have said, the chronicler of Leos pilgrimage disappoints us. He never dreamed that we should desire to know anything of the common-place circumstances of the people, or that the things most familiar and uninteresting to his eyethe every-day realities of the men and women of his daywould be most interesting to us. We follow him through many towns for notices of life in the olden time; but he turns away from all the life and movement around him to entertain us with apocryphal stories about dry bones. A quaint Livonian rhymed chronicle, of some interest for German antiquaries occupies the re- mainder of the volume. From the Athenicum. THE ANNUALS FOil 1845. The Book of Beauty. The Keepsake. THE critic, as we have often declared, can hardly hold his court over the illustrations in these gay volumes. As one of the rhymesters A Septa- genarian whom the spell of the Editress has gal- vanized into a songpleads, Not two stars on oceans glass Shine alike of crystal made; Not two daises on the grass Crimson to the selfsame shade. Trim the lamps of yonder sky, Paint the field-flowers, thou who earest; But to value lip and eye Out on rules! the last are fairest! Following, therefore, in the wake of this incon- stant old gentleman, we will not attempt to mea- sure the beauties for 1845 against those of preced- ing years; but be content to state that Mr. Swin- tons portrait of Lady Douro, on the exhibition of which at the Royal Academy such good hopes for its artist were based, forms the frontispiece to the volumeand venture a word of disappointment at the ineffectiveness of Mr. Thorburns miniatures (which we have so often admired) when trans- ferred to copper. The letter-press of this showy book holds the even tenor of its way in right of Mr. Landors conversation betwixt zEsop and Rhodope, and of a Decameron of lively tales among the tellers of which it were ungallant not to specify Lady Blessington herself, Mrs. Hall, and Mrs. Romer. There are also a few pages on Epitaphs (the last in the book) by Mr. Monckton Milnes, worth keeping It is now many years ago since I was detained a week at the small town of Otranto in Calabria. The innkeeper told me he knew its castle was very famous in English history, and was very sorry it had totally disappeared. There was, however, no want of ruins about the town: tombs and walls of the old Roman time, when Horace did not get quite so far south, content with Brin- disi; churches and chapels of that later and stranger period, when the Northman added his fame and his art to Italian history, when above the very plain of Cannai was raised the Gothic tomb of Boemond, whose epitaph concludes with Non hominum possum dicere, nob Deum. In one of those deserted churches my attention was drawn to a slab of marble embedded in acan- thus, and, with a wayward curiosity, I labored till I had raised it once more to light: there was an inscription on it which I deciphered with diffi- culty, In mternam memoriani * * * * * * It broke off there, and the edges of the fragment ironically expressed the eternity of human memo- ries. We all know this; we all know with how little interest we regard the monuments that crowd our churches, and with how little care we clear away the mould from the lasting trihute of affec- tion, or disturb the spider-web round the head of the weeping cherub: how very seldom a tomb- stone is mended! how very seldom an effaced in- scription restored! Let the dead die; it is well it should be so, when they who have known and loved the dead are gone too; when the builders of the tomb are themselves laid idle in another grave, let time have his way here as elsewhere; and we must he content, if he good-humoredly allows our little struggles to hold him back a moment on his conquering way. Let us raise such monuments as satisfy ourselves and our immediate descend- ants. My own feeling is strongly in favor of Latin inscriptions. There is something incisive and lapidary in the Latin language, in all its phases; the inscriptions on the Roman monuments and edifices of yesterday are as noble and as be- coming as even those on a Scipios tomb. Then, too, there appears to me to be a fit reserve in con- fining the record of ones affection within a certain 36 THE ANNUALS FOR 1845. sphere of observation, and to withdraw it, in some degree, from the criticism of the ignorant and un- feeling. In a small church on the banks of the Arno, at Pisa, there is a broad marble slab, in- scribed Maria~ Mancini pulvis et ossa. What a proud humility in this epitaph! Now it takes for granted that you know who the Mancini was, and feel what there was which now is dust and ashes! * * I have seen few English epitaphs that satisfied me; the beginning of Lord I3olingbrokes is fine Here lies Henry St. John, in the reign of Queen Anne Sec. of war, Sec. of State, and Viscount Boling- broke, In the days of King George the First and King George the Second Something more and better. The rest is weak, and not more true.It may be from the language being ones own, but it always seems to me so difficult, to be at once earnest and epigrammatic, that I never would undertake to write an English epitaph; yet I saw one the other day, in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, which might bring tears into any eye. There was the name and the date, and under it Deare childe. No more.There is an inscription in the church- yard of Lanercost Abbey that should not be for- gotten Sir Rowland Vaux, that sometime was Lord of Triermain, Is dead, his body clad in lead, and lies under this stane; Even as we, even so was he, on earth a levan man, Even as he, so maun we be, for all the craft we can. The melody of that name rung in the ear of the young Coleridge, and the hero of Christabel was thus designated.The humorous epitaph is disagreeable to most minds, for one does not clearly understand who can have written itat least, not the mourner. Yet a play upon words is not always ridiculous; there is surely a pathos in Cotton Mathers sepulchral record of his dear friend and colleague, well known in the controver- sial annals of New England divinity Ralphius Partridge, avolavit die * * * * We may feel, too, a certain grim diversion in the involuntary absurdity that breaks out sometimes among the tombs; for example, the Pesaro, Ex nobilissima inter Venetos In nobiliorem Angelorum familiam translatus, could hardly have said so good a thing about him- self in his lifetime.In the pompous style, the Circumspice of Sir Christopher Wren, and the Sta, Sol, ne moveare, of Copernicus, are the best I know. In the other extreme, Wordsworths sonnet has immortalized the Miserrimus in Litchfield Cathedral.There is neither tomb nor epitaph over the Duke of Marlborough, in West- minster Abbey. Was the projected monument so magnificent that it has never been erected l It seems singular that this should not have been the care of the proud Sarahs widowhood. 37 A choral Dirge, by Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, is elegant and acceptable, but somewhat melancholy, perhaps, for a record which, by its charter, has nothing to do with age and decay. Of the two Annuals, however, The Keepsake is, undeniably, the richer in prose and verse. The name of M. Eug~ne Sue will attract many to read his brief notice of M. Savinien Lapointe, one of the artificer poets of France. The signature of J. R., of Christchurch, is appended to a lyric we cannot but quote The Old Seaman. You ask me why mine eyes are bent So darkly on the sea, While others watch the azure hills That lengthen on the lee l The azure hillsthey soothe the sight That fails along the foam; And those may hail their nearing height Who there have hope, or home. But I a loveless path have trod A beaconless career; My hope bath long been all with God, And all my home ishere. The deep by day, the heaven by night, Roll onward, swift and dark: Nor leave my soul the doves delight, Of olive-branch or ark. For more than gale, or gulf, or sand, I ye proved that there may be Worse treachery on the steadfast land Than variable sea. A danger worse than bay or beach A falsehood more unkind The treachery of a governed speech, And an ungoverned mind. The treachery of the deadly mart, Where human souls are sold, The treachery of the hollow heart, That crumbles as we hold. Those holy hills and quiet lakes Ah! wherefore should I find This weary fever-fit, that shakes Their image in my mind. The memory of a streamlets din Through meadows daisy-drest Another might be glad therein, But yet I cannot rest. I cannot rest unless it be Beneath the churchyard yew; But God, I think, hath yet for me More earthly work to do. And therefore, with a quiet will, I breathe the ocean air, And bless the voice that calls me still, To wander and to bear. Let others seek their native sod, Who there have hearts to cheer; My soul hath long been given bo God, And all my home ishere. Then comes a famous novellette, in the rainbow style, by M. le Vicomte d Arlincourt,shortly afterwards a dramatic scene, by Mr. Milnesand a Fantasia by the Author of Coningsby. There is power and purpose, though somewhat CIVILIZATION OF THE CHEROKEES. mystically displayed, in Miss Garrows Mabels Dove, and we have an Italian legend by Mr. R. Westmacott, and a goblin story of the Rhineland, (true to life as to its scenery,) besides the usual quantum of grace and fiction, from established contributors. Mr. Leslies portrait of Lady Joce- lyn makes a fair frontispiece: the other illustra- tionssave the Gondola, by M. Cottraumust not be tried by the severe standards of art. In place of the Picturesque Annual, Mr. Heath issues a second volume of the Rev. R. Cattermoles Historical Sketches of the Eiiglish Civil War, with illustrative engravings, from designs by Mr. George Cattermole. Considering the class of per- sons to whom such works appeal for support, it ought not perhaps to excite surprise that the lite- rary portion is subordinate in interest to the illus- trations; but we see no reason,except indeed that it was intrusted to the historian of the Car- toons,why it should halt after at such an im- measurable distance. The vignette on the title- page, a scene of pillage in a fair mansiona larger view of the I)estruction of the Property of Royalists, well rendered by Wallis, Colonel Pride in the House of Commons, and the Scots pursued after the Battle of Preston, are all in the artists best manner. In The Seizure of the King at Holdenby, and Cromwell paying a night visit to the Royal Coffin, he has flown at higher game, attempting historical in place of what may be called scenic art; and the result is only a partial success. The volume also contains engravings after Yandykes portraits of Charles the First, and, as the reverend historian chooses to call him the most renowned of hypocrites, Oliver Cromwell. The Forget-me-Not. The first of these gay gift-books bids fair, also, to become the last. There is now little attempt at choice art made in the illustrations: painters names figure there, which are not to be found in exhibition cataloguesand engravers work but carelessly, as compared with past days of high finish and feverish competition. As to letter-press the ladies have the best of it, beyond all chal- lenge. Miss Pardoe, with her Hungarian knowl- edge, and Miss Mitford, with her somewhat old- fashioned but sweet recommendation of Womans unobtrusive virtues, and Mrs. Gray with one of her Irish sketches, and that wonderful woman Mrs. Gorewho, we verily believe, keeps a staff of fiction-manufacturers, so numerous and inces- sant are her appearancesand Mrs. Sigourney and Miss Gould with verse of an over-sea bloom, make a phalanx too strong for male competition; nayas if it were on purpose, Mr. Shoberl, at the close of his book, brings up the heavy artillery of Mrs. Siddons in a piece of somewhat ponderous jocositycharacteristic of the sincere, but not very lively, Queen of Tragedy. From the Cincinnati Chronicle. CIVILIZATION OF THE CHEROKEES. THE progress of Cherokee civilization is among the most grateful circumstances in our history, and there are accordingly few papers that we t with more interest than the Cherokee Advocate. It is, in all respects, a pleasing indi- cation of the advance of the nation in the arts of life. The last number (October 26th) gives inter- esting reports of the proceedings of the National Legislative Council, of the anniversaries of the Cherokee Bible Society and the Temperance So- / ciety, which all give evidence of the wholesome growth of society. We notice also that the ad- ministration of justice is regular and uniform. At the Circuit Court in Skin Bayou district, Hon. John Thorn presiding, on the 17th ultimo, Black Haw, a Cherokee, was tried and found guilty of having murdered, in the early part of the month, a countryman named Johnson, under the power of whiskeydrunkenness being no excuse for murder in the Cherokee codeand he was duly hung on the 23d ultimo. As our readers may be curious to see what kind of a place the Cherokee capital town is, we trans- fer the following account of it from the Advocate. It will be observed that Jersey skill is employed there Oca TowN.At present everything about our town is life and animation. The number of persons called together by the annual session of the National Council, though not so great as on similar occasions heretofore, is quite considerable. Besides the public officers (councilmen, judges, clerks, sheriffs, & c.) there are many others in daily attendance, some of whom are called hither by business and others by a curiosity to see and hear what is occurring in the nation. Tahlequah, the place whence we hail, is situ- ated some eighteen miles east of Fort Gibson. It became the seat of government of the Cherokee nation in 1839, after the re~inion of the eastern and western branches of the Cherokee family. The location of the town is central and beautiful, and combines advantages of good health, excellent spring water, and a plentiful supply of timber for firewood and purposes of building. The surround- ing country is, in our opinion, of surpassing beauty, presenting a diversity of mountain, woodland, and prairie scenery. The prairie, which extends within the town reservation, affords luxuriant grass, which is a good substitute for hay, and as much land of productive quality as will be re- quired in many years for agricultural purposes by those wishing to live in town. After it became the seat of government a number of log cabins were thrown up about the place, without, however, much regard to order, as they were designed for the temporary accom- modation of those engaged in the transaction of public business. But a regular town having been laid off last winter, and a number of lots sold to citizens of the nation, these cabins will be removed and others built which will present a better ap- pearance. A few houses have, however, been already erected, and others are in contemplation, of the jam-up kind. The Supreme Court has just opened its an- nual session in a new and commodious brick court- house, which, in point of neatness and durability, is perhaps surpassed by no building of the kind in Arkansas. The contractor fur doing this job is a Jersey carpenter, whose habits of industry secure him constant employment. The mason-work was done by a little Yankee all the way from Boston. Our house is also a spank new one, eighteen by forty feet, two stories high, ceiled, & c. Our countrywoman, Mrs. Taylor, has also in forward state of erection a new brick house, intended for a hotel, which will be, when completed, not only a great accommodation to the public but also an ornament to our town. 38

CIVILIZATION OF THE CHEROKEES. mystically displayed, in Miss Garrows Mabels Dove, and we have an Italian legend by Mr. R. Westmacott, and a goblin story of the Rhineland, (true to life as to its scenery,) besides the usual quantum of grace and fiction, from established contributors. Mr. Leslies portrait of Lady Joce- lyn makes a fair frontispiece: the other illustra- tionssave the Gondola, by M. Cottraumust not be tried by the severe standards of art. In place of the Picturesque Annual, Mr. Heath issues a second volume of the Rev. R. Cattermoles Historical Sketches of the Eiiglish Civil War, with illustrative engravings, from designs by Mr. George Cattermole. Considering the class of per- sons to whom such works appeal for support, it ought not perhaps to excite surprise that the lite- rary portion is subordinate in interest to the illus- trations; but we see no reason,except indeed that it was intrusted to the historian of the Car- toons,why it should halt after at such an im- measurable distance. The vignette on the title- page, a scene of pillage in a fair mansiona larger view of the I)estruction of the Property of Royalists, well rendered by Wallis, Colonel Pride in the House of Commons, and the Scots pursued after the Battle of Preston, are all in the artists best manner. In The Seizure of the King at Holdenby, and Cromwell paying a night visit to the Royal Coffin, he has flown at higher game, attempting historical in place of what may be called scenic art; and the result is only a partial success. The volume also contains engravings after Yandykes portraits of Charles the First, and, as the reverend historian chooses to call him the most renowned of hypocrites, Oliver Cromwell. The Forget-me-Not. The first of these gay gift-books bids fair, also, to become the last. There is now little attempt at choice art made in the illustrations: painters names figure there, which are not to be found in exhibition cataloguesand engravers work but carelessly, as compared with past days of high finish and feverish competition. As to letter-press the ladies have the best of it, beyond all chal- lenge. Miss Pardoe, with her Hungarian knowl- edge, and Miss Mitford, with her somewhat old- fashioned but sweet recommendation of Womans unobtrusive virtues, and Mrs. Gray with one of her Irish sketches, and that wonderful woman Mrs. Gorewho, we verily believe, keeps a staff of fiction-manufacturers, so numerous and inces- sant are her appearancesand Mrs. Sigourney and Miss Gould with verse of an over-sea bloom, make a phalanx too strong for male competition; nayas if it were on purpose, Mr. Shoberl, at the close of his book, brings up the heavy artillery of Mrs. Siddons in a piece of somewhat ponderous jocositycharacteristic of the sincere, but not very lively, Queen of Tragedy. From the Cincinnati Chronicle. CIVILIZATION OF THE CHEROKEES. THE progress of Cherokee civilization is among the most grateful circumstances in our history, and there are accordingly few papers that we t with more interest than the Cherokee Advocate. It is, in all respects, a pleasing indi- cation of the advance of the nation in the arts of life. The last number (October 26th) gives inter- esting reports of the proceedings of the National Legislative Council, of the anniversaries of the Cherokee Bible Society and the Temperance So- / ciety, which all give evidence of the wholesome growth of society. We notice also that the ad- ministration of justice is regular and uniform. At the Circuit Court in Skin Bayou district, Hon. John Thorn presiding, on the 17th ultimo, Black Haw, a Cherokee, was tried and found guilty of having murdered, in the early part of the month, a countryman named Johnson, under the power of whiskeydrunkenness being no excuse for murder in the Cherokee codeand he was duly hung on the 23d ultimo. As our readers may be curious to see what kind of a place the Cherokee capital town is, we trans- fer the following account of it from the Advocate. It will be observed that Jersey skill is employed there Oca TowN.At present everything about our town is life and animation. The number of persons called together by the annual session of the National Council, though not so great as on similar occasions heretofore, is quite considerable. Besides the public officers (councilmen, judges, clerks, sheriffs, & c.) there are many others in daily attendance, some of whom are called hither by business and others by a curiosity to see and hear what is occurring in the nation. Tahlequah, the place whence we hail, is situ- ated some eighteen miles east of Fort Gibson. It became the seat of government of the Cherokee nation in 1839, after the re~inion of the eastern and western branches of the Cherokee family. The location of the town is central and beautiful, and combines advantages of good health, excellent spring water, and a plentiful supply of timber for firewood and purposes of building. The surround- ing country is, in our opinion, of surpassing beauty, presenting a diversity of mountain, woodland, and prairie scenery. The prairie, which extends within the town reservation, affords luxuriant grass, which is a good substitute for hay, and as much land of productive quality as will be re- quired in many years for agricultural purposes by those wishing to live in town. After it became the seat of government a number of log cabins were thrown up about the place, without, however, much regard to order, as they were designed for the temporary accom- modation of those engaged in the transaction of public business. But a regular town having been laid off last winter, and a number of lots sold to citizens of the nation, these cabins will be removed and others built which will present a better ap- pearance. A few houses have, however, been already erected, and others are in contemplation, of the jam-up kind. The Supreme Court has just opened its an- nual session in a new and commodious brick court- house, which, in point of neatness and durability, is perhaps surpassed by no building of the kind in Arkansas. The contractor fur doing this job is a Jersey carpenter, whose habits of industry secure him constant employment. The mason-work was done by a little Yankee all the way from Boston. Our house is also a spank new one, eighteen by forty feet, two stories high, ceiled, & c. Our countrywoman, Mrs. Taylor, has also in forward state of erection a new brick house, intended for a hotel, which will be, when completed, not only a great accommodation to the public but also an ornament to our town. 38 DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MONTAGU. From the Athenaum. DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MON TAGU. THE fourth volume of Miss Costellos Lives of Eminent Englishwomen is wholly devoted to the lives of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,both womea remarka- ble enough to claim a place in any collection of distinguished British females. The former of these was, as Miss Costello observes, the most remarkable woman of her own agedbut when the writer adds of any age, our consent stays a long way behind her panegyrie. It is much Miss Costellos habit to become the very partial advo- cate of the subjects of her memoirs,as if she had contracted an obligation to maintain their characters by summoning them into the field of criticism. This is an error not uncommon to biog- raphers, and which we have heard defendedbut on no just ground, if biography is to be read as history at all. Whilst there are certain dramatic properties neglected by our author, which she might adopt with advantage to her narratives, this is one which will not bear applying to the ease of serious narration. But Miss Costellos practice in that respect, goes, at times, even beyond the license advocatedleading her not only to en- hance, or give undue prominence to, such qualities as her heroines really possessed, but even to sup- pose in their favor others of which there is no evi- dence, or against presumption. It is amusing to see, too, what very small and insignificant tribute of this kind she is contented to take on behalf of the well-beloved of her imagination. The very unintellectua,l manner, she says, in which her (Sarah Jennings) time was spent at court seems not a little to have perturbed a spirit so exalted and so ready for active exertion as her own ;as she must have excelled in all things, she was, doubt- less, a consummate card-player! but it galled her to record that she never read, nor employed her time in anything but playing cards,altkough she adds, at the same time, that she had not then any ambition. Miss Costello labors hard to elevate her subject into a woman of first-rate ge- nius; and will, at the same time, by no means allow, if she can help it, that she was the sordid, violent and thoroughly disagreeable being which all the witnesses and all the facts report her to have been. Undoubtedly a shrewd, clever, self- willed woman, she had that boldness of temper and promptness of action which sometimes pass for energy of mind; but her genius, such as it was, grew up and developed itself wholly in the school of intrigue,which has rarely produced the disciples that philosophic history accepts for its heroes. Even her political cards, considering the great hand which circumstances dealt to her, she played badly; and was beaten at her own game by a bed-chamber-woman, who had learnt it by looking over her shoulder. She lost her greatness by her utter incapacity for managing that temper, whose early and long continued in- fluence over a weak princess had first contributed to it. The biographer betrays a consciousness of the real quality of her heroines genius, by her attempts to raise suppositions of a higher kind in its favor. What the wish, says she,speak- ing of Lord Churchills desire to retire into private life, soon after their marriage of his young, beautiful and ambitious wife might be, at this juncture, does not appear; for, with her sagacity, it does not seem unlikely that she foresaw the probability of her friend and companion, the prin~ cess Anne, becoming hereafter the object of her countrys hope. It would have required a su- pernatural power of prevision to see anything of the kind, at the period spoken of,for the shadow of that coming event was then nowhere in the vis- ible world. Prophecy alone could have reached it; but supposing Miss Costello to have establish- ed this ultra-gift for her heroine, at what an ex- pense of character is it conferred! It would be actually painful to contemplate this young wife, brought up under the roof of the wretched Duke of York, and, both in her own and her husbands person, indebted to his unwearying friendship for favors the most important and engaging, scenting, at this far distance, the decline of her unhappy patrons fortunes, and calculating in cold blood, her place by the side of his successor, in a com- bination which made it a bitter and revolting part of the princes well-earned punishment that it was dealt to him through the hands of his own chil- dren. Indeed, without imputing any such ghastly cleverness as this, history has never, altogether, excused either the duchess or her nobler husband, under their peculiar obligations, for their desertion of their constant patron,even when high and pressing motives had arisen to operate against the sacred law of gratitude. There is something amusing, even to the verge of the ridiculous,read in the light of the duch- ess entire character and conduct,in a novel species of coquetry played off by her, on the occa- sion of her husband being created a duke,and in the success with which she imposes even on her biographer this version of a nob episcopari. The great woman is thus addressed by her humble friend, the queen, on the occasion St. James, 22nd October. I have had this evening the satisfaction of my dear Mrs. Freemans of yesterday; for which I give you many thanks; and, though I think it a long time since I saw you, I do not desire you to~ come one minute sooner to town, than it is easy for you, but will wait with patience for the happy hour; and only beg, when you do come, you would: send for a coach, and not make use of a chaise. Lord Treasurer intends to send you a copy of rhe~ address of the House of Lords, which is to be given me to-morrow; and that gives me an oppor-- tunity of mentioning a thing which I did not intendi to do yet. It is very uneasy to your poor unfor- 39

DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MONTAGU. From the Athenaum. DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MON TAGU. THE fourth volume of Miss Costellos Lives of Eminent Englishwomen is wholly devoted to the lives of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu,both womea remarka- ble enough to claim a place in any collection of distinguished British females. The former of these was, as Miss Costello observes, the most remarkable woman of her own agedbut when the writer adds of any age, our consent stays a long way behind her panegyrie. It is much Miss Costellos habit to become the very partial advo- cate of the subjects of her memoirs,as if she had contracted an obligation to maintain their characters by summoning them into the field of criticism. This is an error not uncommon to biog- raphers, and which we have heard defendedbut on no just ground, if biography is to be read as history at all. Whilst there are certain dramatic properties neglected by our author, which she might adopt with advantage to her narratives, this is one which will not bear applying to the ease of serious narration. But Miss Costellos practice in that respect, goes, at times, even beyond the license advocatedleading her not only to en- hance, or give undue prominence to, such qualities as her heroines really possessed, but even to sup- pose in their favor others of which there is no evi- dence, or against presumption. It is amusing to see, too, what very small and insignificant tribute of this kind she is contented to take on behalf of the well-beloved of her imagination. The very unintellectua,l manner, she says, in which her (Sarah Jennings) time was spent at court seems not a little to have perturbed a spirit so exalted and so ready for active exertion as her own ;as she must have excelled in all things, she was, doubt- less, a consummate card-player! but it galled her to record that she never read, nor employed her time in anything but playing cards,altkough she adds, at the same time, that she had not then any ambition. Miss Costello labors hard to elevate her subject into a woman of first-rate ge- nius; and will, at the same time, by no means allow, if she can help it, that she was the sordid, violent and thoroughly disagreeable being which all the witnesses and all the facts report her to have been. Undoubtedly a shrewd, clever, self- willed woman, she had that boldness of temper and promptness of action which sometimes pass for energy of mind; but her genius, such as it was, grew up and developed itself wholly in the school of intrigue,which has rarely produced the disciples that philosophic history accepts for its heroes. Even her political cards, considering the great hand which circumstances dealt to her, she played badly; and was beaten at her own game by a bed-chamber-woman, who had learnt it by looking over her shoulder. She lost her greatness by her utter incapacity for managing that temper, whose early and long continued in- fluence over a weak princess had first contributed to it. The biographer betrays a consciousness of the real quality of her heroines genius, by her attempts to raise suppositions of a higher kind in its favor. What the wish, says she,speak- ing of Lord Churchills desire to retire into private life, soon after their marriage of his young, beautiful and ambitious wife might be, at this juncture, does not appear; for, with her sagacity, it does not seem unlikely that she foresaw the probability of her friend and companion, the prin~ cess Anne, becoming hereafter the object of her countrys hope. It would have required a su- pernatural power of prevision to see anything of the kind, at the period spoken of,for the shadow of that coming event was then nowhere in the vis- ible world. Prophecy alone could have reached it; but supposing Miss Costello to have establish- ed this ultra-gift for her heroine, at what an ex- pense of character is it conferred! It would be actually painful to contemplate this young wife, brought up under the roof of the wretched Duke of York, and, both in her own and her husbands person, indebted to his unwearying friendship for favors the most important and engaging, scenting, at this far distance, the decline of her unhappy patrons fortunes, and calculating in cold blood, her place by the side of his successor, in a com- bination which made it a bitter and revolting part of the princes well-earned punishment that it was dealt to him through the hands of his own chil- dren. Indeed, without imputing any such ghastly cleverness as this, history has never, altogether, excused either the duchess or her nobler husband, under their peculiar obligations, for their desertion of their constant patron,even when high and pressing motives had arisen to operate against the sacred law of gratitude. There is something amusing, even to the verge of the ridiculous,read in the light of the duch- ess entire character and conduct,in a novel species of coquetry played off by her, on the occa- sion of her husband being created a duke,and in the success with which she imposes even on her biographer this version of a nob episcopari. The great woman is thus addressed by her humble friend, the queen, on the occasion St. James, 22nd October. I have had this evening the satisfaction of my dear Mrs. Freemans of yesterday; for which I give you many thanks; and, though I think it a long time since I saw you, I do not desire you to~ come one minute sooner to town, than it is easy for you, but will wait with patience for the happy hour; and only beg, when you do come, you would: send for a coach, and not make use of a chaise. Lord Treasurer intends to send you a copy of rhe~ address of the House of Lords, which is to be given me to-morrow; and that gives me an oppor-- tunity of mentioning a thing which I did not intendi to do yet. It is very uneasy to your poor unfor- 39 40 DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MONTAGU. tunate faithful Morley to think that she has so very little in her power to show you how sensible I am of all Lord Marlboroughs kindness, espe- cially when he deserved all that a rich crown could give; but, since there is nothing else at this time, I hope you will give me leave, as soon as he comes, to make him a duke. I know my dear Mrs. Free- man does not care for anything of that kind; nor am I satisfied with it, because it does not enough express the value I have for Mr. Freeman, nor ever can how passionately I am yours, my dear Mrs. Freeman. Ambition, says the duchess, had no share in procuring the new title. And we are bound to credit her assertions; for, in a letter to a friend, she remarks : I believe there are very few in the world who do not think me very much pleased with the increase of honor the queea gave Lord Marlborough when he commanded the army, at her coming to the crown: and perhaps it is so ridiculous, at least what few people will believe, that I would not mention it but to those that I could show the original letters to. If there be any truth in a mortal, it was so uneasy to me, that, = when I read the letter first upon it, I let it drop out of my hand, and was for some minutes like one who had received news of the death of one of their dear friends; I was so sorry for anything of that kind, having before all that was of any use. I fear you will think what I say upon the subject is affected; and therefore I must repeat again, that it is more uneasy to me for a time than can easily be believed. I do think there is no advantage but in going in at a door; and, when a rule is settled, I like as well to follow five hundred as one. As if that first going in at a door were not the object for which she struggled, and jostled, and fussed, and swore through half her life! When she lost her influence irrecoverably, through strain- ing it too far, like other great people of her class, she persuaded herself that she saw at lash into the philosophy of the matter After what has passed, I do solemnly protest, that if it were in my power I would not be a favor- ite, which few will believe; and since I shall never be able to give any demonstration of that truth, I had as good say no more of it. But as fond as people are of power, I fancy that anybody that had been shut up so many tedious hours as I have been with a person that had no conversation, and yet must be treated with respect, would feel something of what I did, and be very glad, when their circumstances did not want it, to be freed from such a slavery. The two several characters put on record by the duchess Sarah of her royal mistress, at two several times, should be, we think, decisive of the character of the duchess own mind Queen Anne had a person very graceful and majestic: she was religious without affectation, and always meant well. Though she believed that King James had followed such counsel as en- dangered the religion and laws of her country, it ~ was a great affliction to her to be forced to act against him even for security. Her journey to Nottingham was never concerted, but occasioned by the sudden great apprehensions she was under when the king returned from Salisbury. That she was free from ambition appeared from her easiness in letting King William be placed before her in the succession; which she thought more for her honor than to dispute who should wear fir~t that crown that was taken from her father. That she was free from pride appeared from her never insisting upon any one circumstance of grandeur, more than when her family was established by King Charles the Second; though after the Revo- lution, she was presumptive heir to the crown, and after the death of her sister was in the place of a Prince of Wales. Upon her accessioa to the throne the civil list was not increased, although that revenue, from accidents, and from avoiding too rigorous exactions (as the Lord Treasurer Go- dolphin often said) did not, one year with another, produce more than one hundred thousand pounds. Yet she paid many pensions granted in former reigns, which have since been thrown upon the public. When a war was found necessary to se- cure Europe from the power of France, she con- tributed, for the ease of the people, in one year, out of her own revenue, a hundred thousand pounds. She gave likewise the first fruits to aug- ment the provisions of the poorer clergy. For her own privy purse she allowed but twenty thousand pounds a year, (till a very few years before she died, when it was increased to six-and-twenty thousand pounds,) which is much to her honor, because that is subject to no account. She was as frugal in another office, (which was likewise her private concern,) that of the robes, for in nine years she spent only thirty-two thousand and fifty pounds, including the coronation expense, as am pears by the records in the Exchequer, where the accounts were passed. She had never any ex- pense of ostentation or vanity; but never refused charity when there was any reason for it. She always paid the greatest respect imaginable to King William and Queen Mary. She was ex- tremely well bred; treated her ebief ladies and servants as if they had been her equals. To all who approached her, her behavior, decent and dignified, showed condescension without art or manners, and maintained subordination without servility. Look upon this picture, and on this Queen Anne bad a person and appearance not at all ungraceful till she grew exceedingly gross and corpulent. There was something of majesty in her look, but mixed with a sullen and constant frown, that plainly betrayed a gloominess of soul, and a cloudiness of disposition within. She seemed to inherit a good deal of her fathers mo- roseness, which naturally produced in her the same sort of stubborn positiveness in many cases, both ordinary and extraordinary, as well as the same sort of bigotry in religion. Her memory was extremely great, almost to a wonder, and had these two peculiarities very remarkable in it, that she could, whenever she pleased, forget what others would have thought themselves obliged by truth and honor to remember, and remember all such things as otbers would think it a happiness to forget. * * She never discovered any readi- ness of parts, either in asking questions or in giv- ing answers. In matters of ordinary moment, her discourse had nothing of brightness or wit; and, in weightier matters, she never spoke hut in a hurry, and had a certain knack of sticking to what had been dictated her, to a degree often very dis- agree able, arid without the least sign of under- standing or judgment. * * Her civility and DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MONTAGU. good manners in conversation (to which the edu- cation of great persons naturally leads) were gene- ral enough, till in her latter days her new friends untaught her these accomplishments, and then her whole deportment was visibly changed to that de- gree, that when some things disagreeable to her own honor or passion have been laid before her, she would descend to the lowest and most shock- ing forms of contradiction, [this from duchess Sarah !] and what, in any of meaner station, would have been esteemed the height of unpoliteness. Her friendships were flames of extravagant pas- sion, ending in indifference or aversion. Her love to the prince seemed, in the eye of the world, to be prodigiously great; and great as wa~ the passion of her grief, her stomach was greater; fbr, that very day he died, she eat three very large and hearty meals; so that one would think that, as other persons grief takes away their ap- petites, her appetite took away her grief. * * Her religion was chiefly implicit faith and subjec- tion, accompanied with the form and course of a sort of piety. * * But if religion be justice, truth, sincerity, honor, and gratitude, or the like, then one cannot tell what to say; but let her prac- tice speak for herself, her broken vows, her vio- lated alliances, her behavior whether to her old friends at home, her conduct to her good allies abroad, or the returns she made to her native country for an immense treasure of money and blood spent for the vindication of her title and the security of her life. * * She loved fhwning and adoration, and hated plain dealing, even in the most important cases. She had a soul that nothing could so effectually move as flattery or fear. * * She had no native generosity of temper, nor was often known of herself to do a handsome action, either as a reward or as a piece of friendship. The diligence and faithfulness of a servant signified but little with her, where she had no passion for the person. Nor did she hardly ever think, either of rewarding any because they were deserving, or of raising any because they were miserable, till such things were urged upon her by those whom she loved. And even to those whom she professed to love, her presents were very few, and generally very insignificant, as fruit, venison, or the like, unless in cases where she was directed by prece- dents in the former reigns. In a word, she had little zeal for the happiness of others, but a selfish- ness that was great enough to make every other consideration yield to it. She was headstrong and positive in matters of the utmost importance, and at last preferred her own humor and passion be- fore the safety and happiness of her own people and of all Europe, which she had either not sense enough to see or not goodness enough to regard. The spirit of intrigue, which made the duchess enemies abroad, likewise embittered her home, and was a constant cause of disturbance to her husband,in whose character there was much of a noble simplicity. This strong-minded woman, as her biographer thinks her, gave way to fits of passion, at home, of which a child should have been ashamed; as, abroad, she played for toys, and called the baubles names, and made faces at them, when she chanced to break them. A worthy instance is the story related by herself to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, of her having, in a fit of anger, cut off the luxuriant tresses which were her husbands pride, with the respectable view of vexing him who was the cause of her ill-humor,and placing them conspicu- ously in an antechamber, where they could not. fail to be seen by the duke. The sequel. is touch- ing Shortly afterwards, meeting him, and observ- ing in his manner no appearance of vexation or per- turbation, she imagined that her scheme had failed, and seeking for the ringlets without effect, she was ashamed to say anything on the subject, surprised though she was to find they had disappeared. With tears of grateful tenderness she concluded her story by recounting that, after Marlboroughs death, the missing treasure was found by her in a secret cabinet belonging to him, where all that he most prized was secured. Two anecdotes related by Miss Costello, and falling on the same open leaf of her volume, exhibit such a conspicuous contrast in the dispo- sitions ot the lady and her lord, that it seems strange how elements so opposite ever combined in marriage Dr. Mead, the celebrated physician, had given some advice which she did not approve; upon which she attacked him furiously, swore at him with a bitterness quite indescribable, and followed him, as he retreated from her room, with the in- tention of pulling off his periwig! Dr. Hoadley, Bishop of Winchester, is said to have been a wit-. ness of this indecorous scene. The anecdote of the duke is well known Riding one day with Mr. Commissary Mariot, the duke was overtaken by a shower of rain. The co?rnmissary called for and obtained his cloak front his servant, who was on horseback behind him. The duke also asked for his cloak several times, but without avail, his servant delaying to bring it; when at length he came, he was awkwardly endeavoring to fasten it, and muttered sulkily, You must stay, if it rains cats and dogs, till I get at it. The duke, instead of getting angry, turned to the commissary and remarked, I would not be of that fellows temper for the world. We have left ourselves but little space to deal with the memoir of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, which is the concluding one of the series,a matter of the less consequence, since there is no dry place for critic or biographer to put his foot on in the life of the whimsical and eccentric Lady Mary. A somewhat perplexed and perplexing book it isbut has been very generally read. Miss Costello brings no new materials; and all the old materials of Lady Marys history are familiarly known, and have been widely can- vassed. All that relates to her separation from her husband and her quarrel with Pope, is beaten ground. With faults and virtues, talents and weaknesses that were continually belying one another, she has a title to the worlds gratitude that should make her name immortal. All the errors of her wayward spirit, which had begotten 41 DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MONTAGU. so many puzzles for her biographers, all the weak- nesses of a vain and capricious temper, fade into forgetfulness in view of the inestimable benefits which her strong sense, enlightened courage, and generous perseverance secured to Europe in the practice of inoculation. It is, says Sir Richard Steele, a good so lasting and so vast, that none of those wide endowments and deep foundations of public charity which have made most noise in the world deserve to be compared with it. Who amongst us, says Mrs. Jameson, has thought of raising a public statue to Lady Wort- ley Montagu ito her who has almost banished from the world that pest which once extinguished families and desolated provinces! * * She ought to stand in marble beside Howard the good! The first hint to the European public of that remedy which she had the acuteness at once to distinguish from empiricism, in a country where empiricism would have been suspected by minds of a less order, is contained in the following letter to a friend from Adrianople Those dreadful stories you have heard of the plague have very little foundation in truth. I own I have much ado to reconcile myself to the sound of a word which has always given me such terrible ideas, though I am convinced there is little more in it than in a fever. As a proof of this, let me tell you that we passed through two or three towns most violently infected. In the very next house where we lay (in one of those places) two persons died of it. Luckily for me, I was so well deceived that I knew nothing of the matter; and I was made to believe that our second cook had only a great cold. However, we left our doctor to take care of him, and yesterday they both arrived here in good health; and I am now let into the secret that he has had the plague. There are many that escape it; neither is the air ever infected. I am persuaded that it would be as easy a matter to root it out here as out of Italy and France; but it does so little mischief, they are not very solicitous about it, and are content to suffer this distemper instead of our variety, which they are utterly unacquainted with. Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make you wish yourself here. The small-pox, so fatal, and so general amongst us, is here entirely harmless by the in- vention of ingrafting, which is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another to know if any of their family has a mind to have the small- pox: they make parties for this purpose, and when they are met, (commonly fifteen or sixteen to- gether,) the old woman comes with a nut-shell full of the matter of the best sort of small-pox, and asks what vein you please to have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer to her with a large needle, (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch,) and puts into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle, and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell; and in this manner opens four or five veins. The Grecians have commonly the super- stition of opening one in the middle of the fore- head, one in each arm, and one in the breast, to mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these wounds leaving little sears, and is not done by those that are not superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or thirty in their faces, which never mark; and in eight days time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded, there remain running sores during the distemper, which I dont doubt is a great relief to it. Every year thousands under- go this operation; and the French ambassador says pleasantly, that they take the small-pox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other countries. There is no example of any one that has died in it; and you may believe I am well satisfied of the safety of this experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son. I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into fashion in England; and I should not fail to write to some of our doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too beneficial to them not to expose to all their resentment the hardy wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps, if I live to return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. The courage which dared the trial on her own children, and the perseverance which battled with popular and professional prejudice to procure its acceptance by her countrymen, make her one of the most illustrious Englishwomen whom Miss Costello has placed on her records; and this me- moir is, in every way, one of the most interesting and best managed in the volumes. In conclusion, ~ve will repeat the wish which we expressed when noticing Miss Costellos former volumesthat she would, in any future ones, adopt a higher principle for the selection of her subjects, and in their treatment aim at some- thing like style. If she hopes life for her book, she must give to her matter something of a less patchy form; so that an uninformed reader may come to it for a complete narrative, not find himself referred to other sources for the connect- ing line on which to string her scraps. Where she has no fresh fact to offer, she should at least offer (what we know she has the power to give) grace of manner,as a reason why any reader should exchange the old lamps for her new. M. JULES CHEVALIER, employed by the French Commission for the Abolition of Slavery, and by the Marine Department of France, to collect and publish materials in furtherance of the object of abo- lition, has arrived in London to make researches for the completion of his great work. THE last accounts from Morocco state that Abd-el-Kader has refused the emperor of Mo- rocco to repair to Fez, and that he had taken refuge in the desert with ~all the followers who had remained faithful to him. 42

DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MONTAGU. so many puzzles for her biographers, all the weak- nesses of a vain and capricious temper, fade into forgetfulness in view of the inestimable benefits which her strong sense, enlightened courage, and generous perseverance secured to Europe in the practice of inoculation. It is, says Sir Richard Steele, a good so lasting and so vast, that none of those wide endowments and deep foundations of public charity which have made most noise in the world deserve to be compared with it. Who amongst us, says Mrs. Jameson, has thought of raising a public statue to Lady Wort- ley Montagu ito her who has almost banished from the world that pest which once extinguished families and desolated provinces! * * She ought to stand in marble beside Howard the good! The first hint to the European public of that remedy which she had the acuteness at once to distinguish from empiricism, in a country where empiricism would have been suspected by minds of a less order, is contained in the following letter to a friend from Adrianople Those dreadful stories you have heard of the plague have very little foundation in truth. I own I have much ado to reconcile myself to the sound of a word which has always given me such terrible ideas, though I am convinced there is little more in it than in a fever. As a proof of this, let me tell you that we passed through two or three towns most violently infected. In the very next house where we lay (in one of those places) two persons died of it. Luckily for me, I was so well deceived that I knew nothing of the matter; and I was made to believe that our second cook had only a great cold. However, we left our doctor to take care of him, and yesterday they both arrived here in good health; and I am now let into the secret that he has had the plague. There are many that escape it; neither is the air ever infected. I am persuaded that it would be as easy a matter to root it out here as out of Italy and France; but it does so little mischief, they are not very solicitous about it, and are content to suffer this distemper instead of our variety, which they are utterly unacquainted with. Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make you wish yourself here. The small-pox, so fatal, and so general amongst us, is here entirely harmless by the in- vention of ingrafting, which is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another to know if any of their family has a mind to have the small- pox: they make parties for this purpose, and when they are met, (commonly fifteen or sixteen to- gether,) the old woman comes with a nut-shell full of the matter of the best sort of small-pox, and asks what vein you please to have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer to her with a large needle, (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch,) and puts into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle, and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell; and in this manner opens four or five veins. The Grecians have commonly the super- stition of opening one in the middle of the fore- head, one in each arm, and one in the breast, to mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these wounds leaving little sears, and is not done by those that are not superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or thirty in their faces, which never mark; and in eight days time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded, there remain running sores during the distemper, which I dont doubt is a great relief to it. Every year thousands under- go this operation; and the French ambassador says pleasantly, that they take the small-pox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other countries. There is no example of any one that has died in it; and you may believe I am well satisfied of the safety of this experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son. I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into fashion in England; and I should not fail to write to some of our doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too beneficial to them not to expose to all their resentment the hardy wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps, if I live to return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. The courage which dared the trial on her own children, and the perseverance which battled with popular and professional prejudice to procure its acceptance by her countrymen, make her one of the most illustrious Englishwomen whom Miss Costello has placed on her records; and this me- moir is, in every way, one of the most interesting and best managed in the volumes. In conclusion, ~ve will repeat the wish which we expressed when noticing Miss Costellos former volumesthat she would, in any future ones, adopt a higher principle for the selection of her subjects, and in their treatment aim at some- thing like style. If she hopes life for her book, she must give to her matter something of a less patchy form; so that an uninformed reader may come to it for a complete narrative, not find himself referred to other sources for the connect- ing line on which to string her scraps. Where she has no fresh fact to offer, she should at least offer (what we know she has the power to give) grace of manner,as a reason why any reader should exchange the old lamps for her new. M. JULES CHEVALIER, employed by the French Commission for the Abolition of Slavery, and by the Marine Department of France, to collect and publish materials in furtherance of the object of abo- lition, has arrived in London to make researches for the completion of his great work. THE last accounts from Morocco state that Abd-el-Kader has refused the emperor of Mo- rocco to repair to Fez, and that he had taken refuge in the desert with ~all the followers who had remained faithful to him. 42

DUCHESS OF MARLBOROUGH AND LADY MONTAGU. so many puzzles for her biographers, all the weak- nesses of a vain and capricious temper, fade into forgetfulness in view of the inestimable benefits which her strong sense, enlightened courage, and generous perseverance secured to Europe in the practice of inoculation. It is, says Sir Richard Steele, a good so lasting and so vast, that none of those wide endowments and deep foundations of public charity which have made most noise in the world deserve to be compared with it. Who amongst us, says Mrs. Jameson, has thought of raising a public statue to Lady Wort- ley Montagu ito her who has almost banished from the world that pest which once extinguished families and desolated provinces! * * She ought to stand in marble beside Howard the good! The first hint to the European public of that remedy which she had the acuteness at once to distinguish from empiricism, in a country where empiricism would have been suspected by minds of a less order, is contained in the following letter to a friend from Adrianople Those dreadful stories you have heard of the plague have very little foundation in truth. I own I have much ado to reconcile myself to the sound of a word which has always given me such terrible ideas, though I am convinced there is little more in it than in a fever. As a proof of this, let me tell you that we passed through two or three towns most violently infected. In the very next house where we lay (in one of those places) two persons died of it. Luckily for me, I was so well deceived that I knew nothing of the matter; and I was made to believe that our second cook had only a great cold. However, we left our doctor to take care of him, and yesterday they both arrived here in good health; and I am now let into the secret that he has had the plague. There are many that escape it; neither is the air ever infected. I am persuaded that it would be as easy a matter to root it out here as out of Italy and France; but it does so little mischief, they are not very solicitous about it, and are content to suffer this distemper instead of our variety, which they are utterly unacquainted with. Apropos of distempers, I am going to tell you a thing that will make you wish yourself here. The small-pox, so fatal, and so general amongst us, is here entirely harmless by the in- vention of ingrafting, which is the term they give it. There is a set of old women who make it their business to perform the operation every autumn, in the month of September, when the great heat is abated. People send to one another to know if any of their family has a mind to have the small- pox: they make parties for this purpose, and when they are met, (commonly fifteen or sixteen to- gether,) the old woman comes with a nut-shell full of the matter of the best sort of small-pox, and asks what vein you please to have opened. She immediately rips open that you offer to her with a large needle, (which gives you no more pain than a common scratch,) and puts into the vein as much matter as can lie upon the head of her needle, and after that binds up the little wound with a hollow bit of shell; and in this manner opens four or five veins. The Grecians have commonly the super- stition of opening one in the middle of the fore- head, one in each arm, and one in the breast, to mark the sign of the cross; but this has a very ill effect, all these wounds leaving little sears, and is not done by those that are not superstitious, who choose to have them in the legs, or that part of the arm that is concealed. The children or young patients play together all the rest of the day, and are in perfect health to the eighth. Then the fever begins to seize them, and they keep their beds two days, very seldom three. They have very rarely above twenty or thirty in their faces, which never mark; and in eight days time they are as well as before their illness. Where they are wounded, there remain running sores during the distemper, which I dont doubt is a great relief to it. Every year thousands under- go this operation; and the French ambassador says pleasantly, that they take the small-pox here by way of diversion, as they take the waters in other countries. There is no example of any one that has died in it; and you may believe I am well satisfied of the safety of this experiment, since I intend to try it on my dear little son. I am patriot enough to take pains to bring this useful invention into fashion in England; and I should not fail to write to some of our doctors very particularly about it, if I knew any one of them that I thought had virtue enough to destroy such a considerable branch of their revenue for the good of mankind. But that distemper is too beneficial to them not to expose to all their resentment the hardy wight that should undertake to put an end to it. Perhaps, if I live to return, I may, however, have courage to war with them. The courage which dared the trial on her own children, and the perseverance which battled with popular and professional prejudice to procure its acceptance by her countrymen, make her one of the most illustrious Englishwomen whom Miss Costello has placed on her records; and this me- moir is, in every way, one of the most interesting and best managed in the volumes. In conclusion, ~ve will repeat the wish which we expressed when noticing Miss Costellos former volumesthat she would, in any future ones, adopt a higher principle for the selection of her subjects, and in their treatment aim at some- thing like style. If she hopes life for her book, she must give to her matter something of a less patchy form; so that an uninformed reader may come to it for a complete narrative, not find himself referred to other sources for the connect- ing line on which to string her scraps. Where she has no fresh fact to offer, she should at least offer (what we know she has the power to give) grace of manner,as a reason why any reader should exchange the old lamps for her new. M. JULES CHEVALIER, employed by the French Commission for the Abolition of Slavery, and by the Marine Department of France, to collect and publish materials in furtherance of the object of abo- lition, has arrived in London to make researches for the completion of his great work. THE last accounts from Morocco state that Abd-el-Kader has refused the emperor of Mo- rocco to repair to Fez, and that he had taken refuge in the desert with ~all the followers who had remained faithful to him. 42 ~THE ATMOSPHERIC RAILWAY. From the Athemeum. THE ATMOSPHERIC RAILWAY. So much scientifical opinion upon the Dalkey Atmospheric has been put forth, that perhaps you may like to hear a little unscientifical. Engineers can only feel through their heads how a train runs, but your common travellers feel it through their entire persons; thus, by a strange consequence, weakness of body proves a more potent reasoner than strength of mind; and the weaker the body is, the nearer it approaches an infallible railway-ome- ter. Professional gentleman likewise become har- dened to such a degree by constant train-trying, that excoriation itself, I believe, would affect them as little as it does eels,qualmishness no more than if they had the stomachs of Jack Tavs or ostriches. At all events, my humble verdict will have this one advantagedisinterestedness; nei- ther trading spirit nor theoretical prejudice, which must frequently bias the dictum of directors, share- holders, engineers, & c., can warp my evidence: Truth lies so deep and dark within her well, Those even who touch her scarce her form can tell! Perhaps most of your readers know that the At- mospheric Railway from Kingstown to Dalkey extends about one mile and three-quarters: accord- ing to my non-chronometer, the distance was per- formed in somewhat more than two minutes, or at about the rate of 45 miles per hour. This is whirlwind pace. I seemed merely to get into the machine to get out of it, and had very little jaunt for my money, (but threepence, however,) which reminded me of the poor cookmaid, who com- plained she had small enjoyment of her bed, as tIme night passed away before she had well laid herself down. Another advantage over the steam locomo- tives, all travellers whose nerves are not made of bell-wire or brains are capable of distraction, will appreciate ;the atmospheric carriages glide on with little more noise than Queen Mabs coaches; their sound resembled most the rustle of autumn leaves swept forward by a low windvery myste- rious, and rather awful! None of that continuous harsh bluster and bewildering screech from a dozen valves and vent-holes, before you set off; nor of that eternal puffing, panting, snorting, and fiery evomitionlike the efforts of a broken-winded dragon to swallow the ground. in his fierceness and ragewith which the common train-engines stun, stupify, and derange you. When you proceed, none of the clatter from a tail of carriages as if a colossal rattle-snake were on your track. Besides, you are not sitting near a huge copper bomb-shell ever ready to burst, and a furnace threatening to lick up with its flamy tongues the whole wooden apparatus (human contents included) behind it. You are not smothered and blinded with smoke, grit-gravel, and coal-dust. These are vast nega- tive advantages of the Atmospheric ;what others it may possess I forget, or failed to observe. A positive merit is its smooth onward motion. Now comes the grand defectits unpleasant sidling joggle. This amounts, bytimes, to a lateral swing- swong, and if continued, would become almost as emetical. Whether it exceeds the similar defect on steam railroads, I cannot decide, but believe none are altogether free from it. For a consider- able part of the Grand Junction, a passenger feels himself oscillate like a human pendulum at the Old Bailey, and each neighboring pair of, shoulders are shaken together like dice in a back- gammon box. It is yet worse, while it lasts, than the vibratory motion communicated through the bracements of a steam-vessel from the engine to the berths. These I consider the chief discomforts respectively of our new sea and land vehicles annoyances which appear within the province of art to provide against, as it can scarce hope to discover a sedative for Oceans stupendous oscilla- tion, or a preventive for the dire concussions entailed by our time-annihilating means of trans- port now in general use. With regard to the Dalkey Atmospheric, perhaps its very flexuous conrse may augment the disagreeable joggle above- said. Its spine resembles a gigantic antediluvian serpent; black, and embossed with ridge-like joints or rings at its vertebr~ or some immense fossil millipede, whose slough, just laid open, shows us where a convulsion of nature had caught and embedded the living reptile, and her transmu- tative forces in tract of time metallified it. This slough, by the bye, is a narrow, deep and steep- walled channel, little pleasanter to wind through than a long tunnel, except that most of it is non- vaulted a-top. Harbor laws, I believe, prohibited any other; but if a desire to save ground dictated it, the economy seems ill-judged; travellers might almost as well be shot along a large spout, with its leaden sides to contemplate for a prospect. Even the steam railways, though thrice its width, are rendered irksome and repulsive by their interminable monotonous banks, where neither flower blooms nor shrub flourishes to attract the eye or refresh the spirit, or sweeten the soot-loaded gale from the chimney. That same flexuous course of the At- mospheric may also be numbered among its items of superiority, as it enables the train to make any desirable point without those wide rectangular land tacks incumbent on a steam locomotive. But this does not concern the passengers sensations in travellingmy proper object; nor does its power to ascend hills, its suitableness for long trips, liableness to accident, & c. I must here ask, how- ever, if a much greater velocity would prove advantageous or the reverse? Swift and safe movements are opposed: the means of conservation can never increase at a like rate with those of de- struction and injury. One hundred, two hundred miles per hour have been talked of by our go a- head (i. e. go-headlong) speculators; but were the trackways lined with flag-men, watchers, and warners, a single small mischance might occasion the death or disfigurement of several thousand per- sons. As it is, the problem of an artificial satel- lite on the earths surface has been, though not resolved, represented on many an arc, by these quick-rolling engines: increase their speed much more, and a brush from them would prefigure the swish from a comets tailthey would either sweep everything they met off the place it stood, or burst themselves and their freight into a shower of corpuscles, or both! Maximum rapidity may be a very utilitarian object, but can we call it a useful? Your go-ahead men seem to consider it what Mammonites consider moneythe one thing needful. Suppose it brought the Lands End within an hour of London Bridge, would the gain exceed the sacrifice? Is there any use in space at all? or why was Providence superfluous enough to give Earth such vast dimensions if Man be wise to annihilate them? What a geometer art thou, O God ! exclaimed the mathematician of yore: our practical gentlemen, who would fain bring the four corners of the planet together, tacitly, but virtually, pronounce the Omnipotent unacquainted withProportion.

~THE ATMOSPHERIC RAILWAY. From the Athemeum. THE ATMOSPHERIC RAILWAY. So much scientifical opinion upon the Dalkey Atmospheric has been put forth, that perhaps you may like to hear a little unscientifical. Engineers can only feel through their heads how a train runs, but your common travellers feel it through their entire persons; thus, by a strange consequence, weakness of body proves a more potent reasoner than strength of mind; and the weaker the body is, the nearer it approaches an infallible railway-ome- ter. Professional gentleman likewise become har- dened to such a degree by constant train-trying, that excoriation itself, I believe, would affect them as little as it does eels,qualmishness no more than if they had the stomachs of Jack Tavs or ostriches. At all events, my humble verdict will have this one advantagedisinterestedness; nei- ther trading spirit nor theoretical prejudice, which must frequently bias the dictum of directors, share- holders, engineers, & c., can warp my evidence: Truth lies so deep and dark within her well, Those even who touch her scarce her form can tell! Perhaps most of your readers know that the At- mospheric Railway from Kingstown to Dalkey extends about one mile and three-quarters: accord- ing to my non-chronometer, the distance was per- formed in somewhat more than two minutes, or at about the rate of 45 miles per hour. This is whirlwind pace. I seemed merely to get into the machine to get out of it, and had very little jaunt for my money, (but threepence, however,) which reminded me of the poor cookmaid, who com- plained she had small enjoyment of her bed, as tIme night passed away before she had well laid herself down. Another advantage over the steam locomo- tives, all travellers whose nerves are not made of bell-wire or brains are capable of distraction, will appreciate ;the atmospheric carriages glide on with little more noise than Queen Mabs coaches; their sound resembled most the rustle of autumn leaves swept forward by a low windvery myste- rious, and rather awful! None of that continuous harsh bluster and bewildering screech from a dozen valves and vent-holes, before you set off; nor of that eternal puffing, panting, snorting, and fiery evomitionlike the efforts of a broken-winded dragon to swallow the ground. in his fierceness and ragewith which the common train-engines stun, stupify, and derange you. When you proceed, none of the clatter from a tail of carriages as if a colossal rattle-snake were on your track. Besides, you are not sitting near a huge copper bomb-shell ever ready to burst, and a furnace threatening to lick up with its flamy tongues the whole wooden apparatus (human contents included) behind it. You are not smothered and blinded with smoke, grit-gravel, and coal-dust. These are vast nega- tive advantages of the Atmospheric ;what others it may possess I forget, or failed to observe. A positive merit is its smooth onward motion. Now comes the grand defectits unpleasant sidling joggle. This amounts, bytimes, to a lateral swing- swong, and if continued, would become almost as emetical. Whether it exceeds the similar defect on steam railroads, I cannot decide, but believe none are altogether free from it. For a consider- able part of the Grand Junction, a passenger feels himself oscillate like a human pendulum at the Old Bailey, and each neighboring pair of, shoulders are shaken together like dice in a back- gammon box. It is yet worse, while it lasts, than the vibratory motion communicated through the bracements of a steam-vessel from the engine to the berths. These I consider the chief discomforts respectively of our new sea and land vehicles annoyances which appear within the province of art to provide against, as it can scarce hope to discover a sedative for Oceans stupendous oscilla- tion, or a preventive for the dire concussions entailed by our time-annihilating means of trans- port now in general use. With regard to the Dalkey Atmospheric, perhaps its very flexuous conrse may augment the disagreeable joggle above- said. Its spine resembles a gigantic antediluvian serpent; black, and embossed with ridge-like joints or rings at its vertebr~ or some immense fossil millipede, whose slough, just laid open, shows us where a convulsion of nature had caught and embedded the living reptile, and her transmu- tative forces in tract of time metallified it. This slough, by the bye, is a narrow, deep and steep- walled channel, little pleasanter to wind through than a long tunnel, except that most of it is non- vaulted a-top. Harbor laws, I believe, prohibited any other; but if a desire to save ground dictated it, the economy seems ill-judged; travellers might almost as well be shot along a large spout, with its leaden sides to contemplate for a prospect. Even the steam railways, though thrice its width, are rendered irksome and repulsive by their interminable monotonous banks, where neither flower blooms nor shrub flourishes to attract the eye or refresh the spirit, or sweeten the soot-loaded gale from the chimney. That same flexuous course of the At- mospheric may also be numbered among its items of superiority, as it enables the train to make any desirable point without those wide rectangular land tacks incumbent on a steam locomotive. But this does not concern the passengers sensations in travellingmy proper object; nor does its power to ascend hills, its suitableness for long trips, liableness to accident, & c. I must here ask, how- ever, if a much greater velocity would prove advantageous or the reverse? Swift and safe movements are opposed: the means of conservation can never increase at a like rate with those of de- struction and injury. One hundred, two hundred miles per hour have been talked of by our go a- head (i. e. go-headlong) speculators; but were the trackways lined with flag-men, watchers, and warners, a single small mischance might occasion the death or disfigurement of several thousand per- sons. As it is, the problem of an artificial satel- lite on the earths surface has been, though not resolved, represented on many an arc, by these quick-rolling engines: increase their speed much more, and a brush from them would prefigure the swish from a comets tailthey would either sweep everything they met off the place it stood, or burst themselves and their freight into a shower of corpuscles, or both! Maximum rapidity may be a very utilitarian object, but can we call it a useful? Your go-ahead men seem to consider it what Mammonites consider moneythe one thing needful. Suppose it brought the Lands End within an hour of London Bridge, would the gain exceed the sacrifice? Is there any use in space at all? or why was Providence superfluous enough to give Earth such vast dimensions if Man be wise to annihilate them? What a geometer art thou, O God ! exclaimed the mathematician of yore: our practical gentlemen, who would fain bring the four corners of the planet together, tacitly, but virtually, pronounce the Omnipotent unacquainted withProportion. THE CANTON RIVER~ OR RIVER TIGRIS. Let me add a few other words about other Irish railways. Steam-carriages travel from Dublin to Kingstown at a moderate pace, and are a salubrious resort for rusticating citizens :total destruction to the scenic beauties that once brought their minds health, as well as their bodies. Some of the regulations seem odd: you pay one sum when you go in one direction, another sum when you go the self-same path and distance in the opposite; there are intermediate stations, but you pay the entire fare to reach any of them when going from this terminus, and only part fare, to reach any of them when going from that. These and other apparent contradictions throw an air of national irregularity over even this sober enterprise; and what renders the inconsistency still more character- istic, the natives themselves see nothing odd about it! His impetuous temperament makes an Irish- man blind to small obstacles; naylike one of his own mountain streams waylaid by gullies and pebbleshe gets on the livelier for them; he feels, he dares not affirm, the shortest line between two points to be a zigzag, and no wonder it was he who discovered the flexuous Atmospheric! An example which just now fell under my notice illus- trates his idiosyncracy and my subject too; I shall quote it.At a certain much-frequented station, I walked round and through the entire premises without having paid and without being challenged, walked where the passengers who had paid waited, and whence the carriages set off. Upon my ask- ing the check-taker, behind whose very back I came out, wherefore this was permitted, he re- plied with the most delicious na~iv& e, because the other policeman happened to be at his breakfast! Admit the possible negligence, but think of such an excuse in England! Yet I confess it had a charm, and bespoke a simpleness of manners among the Irish which pervades even their mis- conduct itself. I travelled but twice by the Dublin and Droghe- da train; its first-class carriages are quite luxu- rious. It crosses an arm of the sea on a kind of modern Giants Causeway; and for aught I know, the great gulf on the Devils Bridge, as my trips ended at Malahide. Not that I would insinuate the Drogheda Railway is going to perdition, un- less Belfast, whither it will be continued, deserve the name of Helas drear abode. Indeed, it will advance still further, it is said, and put forth ramifications to all the chief towns in Ulster. Such enterprises are now the rage throughout Ireland: do they promise any good l Promise! ay, gold mines! Wicklow ones they will prove, peradventure. Nevertheless, I have heard the projected railway to Cashel well augured of by mercantile men; they were shareholders, to be sure, and moreover shook my credulity with what seemed an ultra-patriotic assertionthat the Dub- lin and Cashel line would contribute as much traffic as the London and Liverpool. If so rich a vein does exist in the heart of the land, how saga- cious the said mercantile men who never before discovered it, or having discovered, how spirited and business-like to leave it unwrought! Govern- ment was wise, beyond doubt, when it abetted and aided this speculation; the shareholders are secured four per cent. while their enterprise is in embryo. Whether it will succeed or fail, I am not political economist enough to conjecture; the necessity for a bait, a bribe, and a bolster looks suspicious; but it must, I should think, have a moral success paramount to any commercial one which can ensue. Nothing will bind the two countries together, nothing become an efficient antidote to repeal, so surely as a system of rail- ways in Ireland, connected with that in England; it will unite the countries by another and a stronger Act of Union. Besides, apart from self-interest and reasons of state, it will spread comfort, knowl- edge, and civilization over a land where wretched- ness, ignorance, and semi-barbarism now reign motive sufficient to a parental legislature. Let not the net of railways cast upon Ireland prove a means to pin her down and oppress her. No! love has chains as well as tyrannygentler, yet far more indissoluble. You see I have some ten- derness in my heart towards railways: to be seri- ous, the hope that they will benefit this forlorn land, quiet this distracted isle, and thereby con- solidate the empire, makes me half pardon them their present and prospective deformation of its beautiful scenes, their intrusion upon its hallowed solitudes, and still worsetheir flagrant Mated- alism. From the Athenmim. THE CANTON RIVER, OR RIVER TIGRIS. THE Tigris or Canton river, is certainly one of the most imposing and striking objects which the traveller meets with in this celebrated country. The sea, near its mouth, is studded all over with numerous islands, of which a good view is obtain- ed in going over from Hong Kong to Macao; and in sailing from either of these places to Canton, we pass a succession of them, most of which are mountainous, having huge masses of rock and yel- low gravelly clay protruding here and there all over the surface, and but thinly covered with vegetation of any kind. Sometimes, however, in our progress we have views of beautiful bays with a few acres of level land near the shore, in the midst of which there are some pretty houses or huts surrounded with a few trees and shrubs. In sailing through amongst these islands one is apt to think that in the retire- ment of such dwellings, far removed from the vicious world, and the busy hum of men, the inhabitants must indeed be happy and innocent, having their few wants abundantly supplied by the rice which grows luxuriantly around their dwell- ings, and by the never failing supply of excellent fish, which are easily caught in the sea. But these dreams of happiness and innocence are soon dispelledthese quiet villa~es abound with pi- rates, who frequently commit acts of the most cold-blooded cruelty, and render the passages be- tween Hong Kong, Canton, and Macao, unpleas- ant and dangerous. Lorchas having a valuable cargo on board, are frequently attacked, and the crew and passengers murdered for the sake of the contents of the vessel, which is generally ransack- ed and afterwards burned or destroyed. A short time since, a most affecting case of this kind hap- pened, in which an English medical gentleman was one of the victims. He had taken a passage for Macao from Hong Kong on his way to Eng. land, from which he had been absent from his wife and family for several years, and was bar- barously murdered near some of the islands on the passage. A few hours sail with a fair wind and tide, brought mc in sight of the celebrated Bocca Ti- gris, the entrance to the Canton river. The forts 44

THE CANTON RIVER~ OR RIVER TIGRIS. Let me add a few other words about other Irish railways. Steam-carriages travel from Dublin to Kingstown at a moderate pace, and are a salubrious resort for rusticating citizens :total destruction to the scenic beauties that once brought their minds health, as well as their bodies. Some of the regulations seem odd: you pay one sum when you go in one direction, another sum when you go the self-same path and distance in the opposite; there are intermediate stations, but you pay the entire fare to reach any of them when going from this terminus, and only part fare, to reach any of them when going from that. These and other apparent contradictions throw an air of national irregularity over even this sober enterprise; and what renders the inconsistency still more character- istic, the natives themselves see nothing odd about it! His impetuous temperament makes an Irish- man blind to small obstacles; naylike one of his own mountain streams waylaid by gullies and pebbleshe gets on the livelier for them; he feels, he dares not affirm, the shortest line between two points to be a zigzag, and no wonder it was he who discovered the flexuous Atmospheric! An example which just now fell under my notice illus- trates his idiosyncracy and my subject too; I shall quote it.At a certain much-frequented station, I walked round and through the entire premises without having paid and without being challenged, walked where the passengers who had paid waited, and whence the carriages set off. Upon my ask- ing the check-taker, behind whose very back I came out, wherefore this was permitted, he re- plied with the most delicious na~iv& e, because the other policeman happened to be at his breakfast! Admit the possible negligence, but think of such an excuse in England! Yet I confess it had a charm, and bespoke a simpleness of manners among the Irish which pervades even their mis- conduct itself. I travelled but twice by the Dublin and Droghe- da train; its first-class carriages are quite luxu- rious. It crosses an arm of the sea on a kind of modern Giants Causeway; and for aught I know, the great gulf on the Devils Bridge, as my trips ended at Malahide. Not that I would insinuate the Drogheda Railway is going to perdition, un- less Belfast, whither it will be continued, deserve the name of Helas drear abode. Indeed, it will advance still further, it is said, and put forth ramifications to all the chief towns in Ulster. Such enterprises are now the rage throughout Ireland: do they promise any good l Promise! ay, gold mines! Wicklow ones they will prove, peradventure. Nevertheless, I have heard the projected railway to Cashel well augured of by mercantile men; they were shareholders, to be sure, and moreover shook my credulity with what seemed an ultra-patriotic assertionthat the Dub- lin and Cashel line would contribute as much traffic as the London and Liverpool. If so rich a vein does exist in the heart of the land, how saga- cious the said mercantile men who never before discovered it, or having discovered, how spirited and business-like to leave it unwrought! Govern- ment was wise, beyond doubt, when it abetted and aided this speculation; the shareholders are secured four per cent. while their enterprise is in embryo. Whether it will succeed or fail, I am not political economist enough to conjecture; the necessity for a bait, a bribe, and a bolster looks suspicious; but it must, I should think, have a moral success paramount to any commercial one which can ensue. Nothing will bind the two countries together, nothing become an efficient antidote to repeal, so surely as a system of rail- ways in Ireland, connected with that in England; it will unite the countries by another and a stronger Act of Union. Besides, apart from self-interest and reasons of state, it will spread comfort, knowl- edge, and civilization over a land where wretched- ness, ignorance, and semi-barbarism now reign motive sufficient to a parental legislature. Let not the net of railways cast upon Ireland prove a means to pin her down and oppress her. No! love has chains as well as tyrannygentler, yet far more indissoluble. You see I have some ten- derness in my heart towards railways: to be seri- ous, the hope that they will benefit this forlorn land, quiet this distracted isle, and thereby con- solidate the empire, makes me half pardon them their present and prospective deformation of its beautiful scenes, their intrusion upon its hallowed solitudes, and still worsetheir flagrant Mated- alism. From the Athenmim. THE CANTON RIVER, OR RIVER TIGRIS. THE Tigris or Canton river, is certainly one of the most imposing and striking objects which the traveller meets with in this celebrated country. The sea, near its mouth, is studded all over with numerous islands, of which a good view is obtain- ed in going over from Hong Kong to Macao; and in sailing from either of these places to Canton, we pass a succession of them, most of which are mountainous, having huge masses of rock and yel- low gravelly clay protruding here and there all over the surface, and but thinly covered with vegetation of any kind. Sometimes, however, in our progress we have views of beautiful bays with a few acres of level land near the shore, in the midst of which there are some pretty houses or huts surrounded with a few trees and shrubs. In sailing through amongst these islands one is apt to think that in the retire- ment of such dwellings, far removed from the vicious world, and the busy hum of men, the inhabitants must indeed be happy and innocent, having their few wants abundantly supplied by the rice which grows luxuriantly around their dwell- ings, and by the never failing supply of excellent fish, which are easily caught in the sea. But these dreams of happiness and innocence are soon dispelledthese quiet villa~es abound with pi- rates, who frequently commit acts of the most cold-blooded cruelty, and render the passages be- tween Hong Kong, Canton, and Macao, unpleas- ant and dangerous. Lorchas having a valuable cargo on board, are frequently attacked, and the crew and passengers murdered for the sake of the contents of the vessel, which is generally ransack- ed and afterwards burned or destroyed. A short time since, a most affecting case of this kind hap- pened, in which an English medical gentleman was one of the victims. He had taken a passage for Macao from Hong Kong on his way to Eng. land, from which he had been absent from his wife and family for several years, and was bar- barously murdered near some of the islands on the passage. A few hours sail with a fair wind and tide, brought mc in sight of the celebrated Bocca Ti- gris, the entrance to the Canton river. The forts 44 which were destroyed during the war, are now rebuilt on a more extensive scale, and if manned with English soldiers, no fleet in the world would pass them without being blown to pieces. I fan- cy, however, that the Chinese, although they have had a lesson in the art of war by which they will he more difficult to conquer again, would still, with all their forts, afford but a feeble resistance acrainst the military and naval tactics of the Eng- lish or other civilized nations of the west. Inside of the Bogue, the river widens very much, and presents the appearance of an inland sea; the view is now beautiful and highly picturesque, the flat cultivated land near the shores forming a strik- ing contrast to the barren hills on the outside of the forts; the hills in the distance appear to encir- cle the extensive plain, and although like the oth- ers just noticed particularly barren, yet make a fine back-ground to the picture. A few miles fur- ther up the river, the shipping in Blenheim and Whampoa reaches come into view; the celebrated Whampoa Pagoda, and several others of less note, besides numerous other towers and joss-houses, all remind the traveller that he is now approaching the far-famed city of Canton, one of the richest and most important cities in the celestial empire. The noble river, by its numerous ramifications, now forms many islandson one of which the small town or village of Whampoa is built, but the truant streams return again to the parent, and flow together into the sea at the Bogue. Large quantities of rice are grown, both on the islands formed by the river, and on the flats on the main land; the tide is kept out by cmbankments, where of course the ground can be overflowed at will. These embankments are not allowed to be idle, but are made to produce crops of plantains, as well as to preserve the ground from the inun- dations of the tide. When the land is too high to be overflowed by the tide, the water-wheel is brought into play, and it is perfectly astonishing how much water can be raised by this simple con- trivance in a very short space of time. Sugar-cane is also grown rat her extensively near Whampoa, and is an article in great demand amongst the Chinese in a raw state. It is manu- factured into sugar candy and brown sugar; many kinds of the latter being particularly fine, though not much used by the foreigners who reside in the country; they generally prefer the candy reduced to powder, in which state it is very fine and white. I have not m~t in any part of the country with our loaf sugar, and I suppose it is not made. A great number of the common fruit trees of the country, are also growing all over the plains and near the side of the river. The Mango, Gua- va,Wampee, (Cookie punctata,) Leechee, Longan, Oranges, and Pumelows, are the principal kinds. Besides these, there are the Cypress, Thuja, Ban- yan, and other kinds of fig-trees, and a species of pine, called by the Chinese the water pine, from its growing always by the sides of the rivers and canals. The bamboo and a kind of weeping wil- low, very much like our own, are also frequently met with. The name which the Chinese give to the latter, is the sighing willow, coinciding rather curiously with our own term of weeping, and whea taken in connexion with the historical fact of the Jews weeping by the streams of Baby- lon, and hanging their harps upon the willow tree, show that this tree is regarded as the emblem of sorrow, as universally as the dark and sombre pine and cypress are considered in all countries fit com~ panions to the cemetery and churchyard. 45 Large quantities of the water lily, or lotus, are grown, both below and above the city, near the sides of the river, and embanked in the same man- ner as the rice fields. This is cultivated both as an ornamental plant, and for the root, which is brought in large quantities to the markets, and of which the Chinese are remarkably fond. In the summer and autumn months, when in flower, these fields have a gay and striking appearance but at other seasons, when the leaves and flowers have decayed, the water has a stagnant and dirty appearance, not at all ornamental to the houses round which the lotus grows. BOATS ON THE CANTON RiVEn, ETC. One of the most striking sights which meet the eye on the Canton river is the immense number of boats which are moored all along the shore, near the foreign factory. Hundreds of thousands of all kinds and sizes, from the splendid flower- boat, as it is called, down to the small barbers scull, forming a large floating city, ~*eopled with an immense number of human beings. In sailing up the river you may see a very small boat, per- haps the smallest you ever witnessed, exposed on the water, being nothing more than a few planks scooped out and fastened together. This is the barbers boat, who is going about, or rather swim- ming about, following his daily avocation of shav- ing the heads and tickling thc ears and eyes of the Chinamen; by the bye, this same barber has much to answer for, for his practice has a most prejudicial effect upon the eyes and cars of his countrymen. He, however, works his little boat with great dexterity, and with his scull manages to propel himself with ease and swiftness through the floating city of boats, larger and more power- ful than his own. Then you see boats of various sizes, such as those at Macno and Hong Kong, covered over, divided into three compartments, and kept remarkably clean and neat. These are hired by either natives or foreigners for going out to the large junks or other vessels moored out in the river, or for short excursions to the island of Honan, the Fa Te gardens, or such places. The centre division forms a very neat little .room, hav- ing windows in the sides, ornamented with pic- tures and flowers of various kinds. The compart- ment at the bow is occupied by the rowers, and that at the stern is used for preparing the food of the family to whom the boat belongs. The boats belonging to the Hong merchants and the large flower-boats are very splendid ones, ar- ranged in compartments like the others, but built in a more superb and costly manner. The Eng- lish reader must imagine a wooden house raised upon the floor of the boat, having the entrance near the bows; room being left~there for the boat- men to stand and row. This entrance being the front, is carved in a most superb style, forming a prelude to what may be seen within. Here nu- merous lanterns hang from the roof: looking- glasses, pictures, and poetry adorn the sides of these splendid showy cabins, and all the peculiar- ities of this peculiar people are exposed to our view in these their floating palaces. Then there are the Chop boats, which are used by the merchants for conveying goods to the ves- sels at Whampoa, passage-boats to Hong Kong and Macao, and various parts of the country. The mandarin boats, with their numerous oars, have a strange appearance as they pull up and down the river; I have seen a single boat of this kind with forty oars on one side, eighty in all; THE CANTON RIVER, OR RIVER TIGRIS. 46 TO MY WIFE. and the large unwieldy junks for going out to sea. There are various modifications of all these kinds of boats, fitted each for the particular purpose for which it is designed. At festival times, the river has a gay and striking appearance, particularly at night, when the lanterns are lighted, and boats gaily decorated with them move up and down in front of the factory. The effect produced upon a stranger at these times by the wild and plaintive strains of Chinese music, the noisy gong, the close and sultry air, the strange people, full of peculiar- ities and conceit, is such as he never forgets, and leaves a kind of mixed impression of pleasure, pity, admiration, and contempt upon his mind. Through- out the whole of this large floating city, the great- est regularity prevails; the large boats are arrang- ed in rows, forming streets, through which the small craft pass and repass, like coaches and other vehicles in a large town. The families who live in this manner seem to have a great partiality for flowers, which they keep in pots, either upon the high stern of their boats, or in their little parlors. The Chinese arbor vitn, Gardenias, Cycas revolu- ta, cockscombs, and oranges, seem to be the great- est favorites with them. A joss-housesmall, indeed, in many cases, but yet an altaris indis- pensable to all these floating houses. Here the joss-stick and the oil are daily burned, and form the incense which these poor people offer to their imaginary deity. Whole streets of wooden houses are also built upon the sides of the river and the numerous ca- nals in the suburbs of Canton, upon stakes which are driven firmly into the mud. These dwellings resemble the travelling shows which one often sees in the market towns of England; suppose that in- stead of the wheels which these vehicles generally have, they were supported upon posts over water, and crowded together in hundreds and thousands, forming crooked and irregular streets, then you have a good idea of the dwelling-houses of the Chinese on the Canton river. Thousands of the inhabitants live and enjoy health and happiness in such places, which, according to our ideas, would soon be graves for Europeanssuch is the differ- ence of constitution. I was much surprised at the old women and young children bathing in the river, which indeed looked like their natural element; and they seem- ed quite as much at home there as the fishes which swim in the same water. The Chinese boat pop- ulation are famous for their prowess in and under the water. At Hong Kong a few days ago, when some officers went out to the harbor to take some Chinese thieves, the Chinamen all jumped over- board, and dived out of sight and escaped. From the Tribune. TO MY WIFE. BAcK from the false and unbelieving earth; Out from the sorrows circling like a sea; From woe to joyfrom grief to chastened mirth True midst the false, true wife! I come to thee. Not as I would. The hands of love have wrought Strange furrows early on this bended brow; This heart that beats with thine, it has not sought Always the good, as it is seeking now ;. But come I as I am,come, seeking peace, And those sweet eyes beam on my soul a sign: Still in this world, 0 doubting! get increase, Since this true heart is married unto thine ! True heart ! What words to come from tongues like ours! True love! yet yields it here below to dwell! Hush, it is here, as on the mount-top flowers, Larks in the clouds, sun-beams in prison-cell. We die not all amidst this so much dying; Look up, dear face! look upI see the sign; While speaks that tongue all speaking is not lying; Two stars there are that shine serene divine. We die not all amidst this so much dying: My own! we know there is no death in this ! White-winged seraphs round the Holy flying Are never shadowed by the death of bliss: And love we not some little in such fashion l Less, as the earth the great sky is below Know we not something of that wondrous passion The awful guardians of the Godhead know? Know we not something of that thick-hushed thrilling Pervadeth, like a sword, the universe, Sharp, yet 0 gentle,planets, spirits filling, Thine eyes, true wife! and this my humble verse? Wonderous sharp, and yet how kindly gentle! Lo! you star-blue it painteth golden warm! Lo! these white limbs it clothes as with a mantle! Lo! this war-wasted heart it fills with calm! For this we met: to give worth to our living, Worth in short timeworth (as we pray) for- ever: Great prophet-souls, in fiery out-giving, Have they not said that love decayeth never7 For this we met; sick, found a matchless heal- ing, And so go on, two pilgrim-souls together Two pilgrim-souls, each to its mate appealing, For summer-light in wintery world weather. Alone, unhelped, true wife, we might have trav- elled, (Mayhap such journey had not been amiss,) But HEthe God, lifes tangled web that ravelled, Pitied us sore; for such life gave us this. Praise be to Him! With knees all lowly bended, See, with one common thought, we look above: Father of hearts! alone we pilgrims wended; But now, what change! what miracle of love ! WERNER. New Bedford, Mass.

46 TO MY WIFE. and the large unwieldy junks for going out to sea. There are various modifications of all these kinds of boats, fitted each for the particular purpose for which it is designed. At festival times, the river has a gay and striking appearance, particularly at night, when the lanterns are lighted, and boats gaily decorated with them move up and down in front of the factory. The effect produced upon a stranger at these times by the wild and plaintive strains of Chinese music, the noisy gong, the close and sultry air, the strange people, full of peculiar- ities and conceit, is such as he never forgets, and leaves a kind of mixed impression of pleasure, pity, admiration, and contempt upon his mind. Through- out the whole of this large floating city, the great- est regularity prevails; the large boats are arrang- ed in rows, forming streets, through which the small craft pass and repass, like coaches and other vehicles in a large town. The families who live in this manner seem to have a great partiality for flowers, which they keep in pots, either upon the high stern of their boats, or in their little parlors. The Chinese arbor vitn, Gardenias, Cycas revolu- ta, cockscombs, and oranges, seem to be the great- est favorites with them. A joss-housesmall, indeed, in many cases, but yet an altaris indis- pensable to all these floating houses. Here the joss-stick and the oil are daily burned, and form the incense which these poor people offer to their imaginary deity. Whole streets of wooden houses are also built upon the sides of the river and the numerous ca- nals in the suburbs of Canton, upon stakes which are driven firmly into the mud. These dwellings resemble the travelling shows which one often sees in the market towns of England; suppose that in- stead of the wheels which these vehicles generally have, they were supported upon posts over water, and crowded together in hundreds and thousands, forming crooked and irregular streets, then you have a good idea of the dwelling-houses of the Chinese on the Canton river. Thousands of the inhabitants live and enjoy health and happiness in such places, which, according to our ideas, would soon be graves for Europeanssuch is the differ- ence of constitution. I was much surprised at the old women and young children bathing in the river, which indeed looked like their natural element; and they seem- ed quite as much at home there as the fishes which swim in the same water. The Chinese boat pop- ulation are famous for their prowess in and under the water. At Hong Kong a few days ago, when some officers went out to the harbor to take some Chinese thieves, the Chinamen all jumped over- board, and dived out of sight and escaped. From the Tribune. TO MY WIFE. BAcK from the false and unbelieving earth; Out from the sorrows circling like a sea; From woe to joyfrom grief to chastened mirth True midst the false, true wife! I come to thee. Not as I would. The hands of love have wrought Strange furrows early on this bended brow; This heart that beats with thine, it has not sought Always the good, as it is seeking now ;. But come I as I am,come, seeking peace, And those sweet eyes beam on my soul a sign: Still in this world, 0 doubting! get increase, Since this true heart is married unto thine ! True heart ! What words to come from tongues like ours! True love! yet yields it here below to dwell! Hush, it is here, as on the mount-top flowers, Larks in the clouds, sun-beams in prison-cell. We die not all amidst this so much dying; Look up, dear face! look upI see the sign; While speaks that tongue all speaking is not lying; Two stars there are that shine serene divine. We die not all amidst this so much dying: My own! we know there is no death in this ! White-winged seraphs round the Holy flying Are never shadowed by the death of bliss: And love we not some little in such fashion l Less, as the earth the great sky is below Know we not something of that wondrous passion The awful guardians of the Godhead know? Know we not something of that thick-hushed thrilling Pervadeth, like a sword, the universe, Sharp, yet 0 gentle,planets, spirits filling, Thine eyes, true wife! and this my humble verse? Wonderous sharp, and yet how kindly gentle! Lo! you star-blue it painteth golden warm! Lo! these white limbs it clothes as with a mantle! Lo! this war-wasted heart it fills with calm! For this we met: to give worth to our living, Worth in short timeworth (as we pray) for- ever: Great prophet-souls, in fiery out-giving, Have they not said that love decayeth never7 For this we met; sick, found a matchless heal- ing, And so go on, two pilgrim-souls together Two pilgrim-souls, each to its mate appealing, For summer-light in wintery world weather. Alone, unhelped, true wife, we might have trav- elled, (Mayhap such journey had not been amiss,) But HEthe God, lifes tangled web that ravelled, Pitied us sore; for such life gave us this. Praise be to Him! With knees all lowly bended, See, with one common thought, we look above: Father of hearts! alone we pilgrims wended; But now, what change! what miracle of love ! WERNER. New Bedford, Mass. My Uncle, the Clock-maker. By MARY H0WITT. WHEN Mary Howitts foot is in her native orchardsthat is, when she talks about English village lifeshe may always be depended upon as a faithful and experienced chronicler. Her inven- tion, however, is given to the romantic, and hence, her working out of a moral is rather apt to be done in that fine fairy-tale style which, for a while, the Marcet and Edgeworth school of writers for the young brought into disrepute. Now, however, that the utility people are becoming less ex- clusive, less resolute to have proof for every fact, and a geometrical scale for imagination, in place of that ladder where angels stepRomance has again leave to peep in at the nursery and school-room door :without fear of a Mr. Burchell to cry Fudge! at fortunes raining from hea- ven or the Eastern Indiesat lost kindred who appear precisely at the opportune timeat wicked people who turn sharp round at the middle period of their lives, Forsake their crimes, confess their folly, And after ten months melancholy, become good and honest men. These con- ditions granted, Mary Howitts Clockmaker, though less likely to be popular than Sam Slick, may be pointed out as qualified for a wide circuit in England. We have indicated the nature of the story. To our old selves, the picture of IDainsby Old Hall, the decaying seat of a decayed family, is worth the price of the book; but younger readers will prefer the scene in the last pages; and none the less, because it has been foreseen from the very first appearance of John Fox, the humorist, with his whimsical ways and his long bag of money.Athena?um. An Essay towards a New Translation of the Epis- tle of St. Paul to the Romans, by B. H. Coop- ER, B. A. THIS translation is professedly conducted on the basis of the authorized version; with a paraphrase and brief explanatory notes, which substitute for the occasion, a critical, philological and exegetical commentary, hereafter to appear. Mr. Cooper has his own theory on the general object of the Epistle: according to him, the apostles design was not the exhibition of the doctrine of justifica- tion by faith, but he availed himself of the doc- trine for an ulterior end, viz., the breaking down of the middle wall of partition between the Jew- ish and Gentile Christians. We think it right to indicate the writers position, though it is obvi- ous that into the controversy itselt it would be im- possible for us to enter. On a matter of such importance, also, it is expedient to wait until the publication of the greater work promised.Athe- na3um. The Nature and Treatment of Deafness and Dis- eases of the Ear, 4c., by W. IDUFTON. ONE of those books which are written, not because the author has anything new to say upon the subject of which they professedly treat, but because he has some other object in view. The medical press teems with such works, and many of them display a very respectable amount of tal- ent; but they are not books that gain the authors 47 any credit as men of science. This, however, is avowedly not their object: it is a not disreputable way of getting the authors name before the pub- lic. What a splendid shop front is to a tradesman, such a book is to the author who writes it,it seems to draw attention to him and to what he has to sell. We do not, however, direct these observations against Mr. Duftons book in partic- ular, which is a respectable epitome of the sub- ject.Athena~um. From the Athenaum. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY. THOSE important regions of Campania, the Ne- cropolis of Cumao, Pozzuoli and the neighborhood of Baii~e, so often examined, still preserve many important relics which are occasionally brought to light by some enterprising individual. The exca- vations made by Lord Vernon are amongst the latest, and a recent number of the Bullettino Archeologico notices them at some length. The principal discoveries have been some tombs in Cumie and Baiie, whence have been taken a vari- ety of objects. Amongst these may be mentioned a perfumers or perfuming vase (lekythos) of earth, with a Greek inscription, and some fragments also of Greek vases, with inscriptions on their feet. These objects found in the necropolis of Cumie are amongst those which have escaped the de- struction of the Greek tombs; begun from the time of the Romans, and never intermitted, so that almost all that belongs to the Greek epoch of this ancient and noble city has been carried away or destroyed, or at least barbarously mutilated. Rare is it indeed to meet with Greek vases entire; the vasettino recently found, and whose smallness and apparent meanness has preserved it perhaps to our days, is one of those rare objects, which have been rescued from destruction, being perfectly entire, and well preserved. The ornaments are painted in a color tending to red, on the base of the natural color of the earth, (argilla,) and it is evident that whilst these ornaments on the external circumference of the vasettino consist of simple lines, in the upper portion of it they imitate two figures of undeter- mined quadrupeds, expressed after the fashion of arabesques. Round the brim there is the appear- ance of rays, on the circular painted lines the inscription. The form of the letters, the orthogra- phy, the dialect are remarkable. Translated it is as follows I am the perfumers of Tatai; he who shall steal me will become blind. In the form of the letters, the antiquary recognizes the beautiful, pure, and elegant conformation of the Ar- caico-Greco alphabet, in which were usually writ- ten the short epigraphs of the Cumiean medals; one inscription gives us the form of sixteen different characters of the primitive Greek alphabet. The orthography is pure; the dialect Ionic, cor- responding to the most ancient Attic tongue. With respect to the subject, such threats were often engraved on vases against those who stole them. At Pozzuoli has been discovered a tomb, containing certain kitchen utensils, with three inscriptions; other objects found at Cumin have been some vases with blank figures. Some little figures of terra cotta, nine unguentarii of alabas- ter, twelve pieces of bronze money, twelve Egyp- tian images, with a necklace composed of thirty- four beads of gold. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY.

My Uncle, the Clock-maker. By MARY H0WITT. WHEN Mary Howitts foot is in her native orchardsthat is, when she talks about English village lifeshe may always be depended upon as a faithful and experienced chronicler. Her inven- tion, however, is given to the romantic, and hence, her working out of a moral is rather apt to be done in that fine fairy-tale style which, for a while, the Marcet and Edgeworth school of writers for the young brought into disrepute. Now, however, that the utility people are becoming less ex- clusive, less resolute to have proof for every fact, and a geometrical scale for imagination, in place of that ladder where angels stepRomance has again leave to peep in at the nursery and school-room door :without fear of a Mr. Burchell to cry Fudge! at fortunes raining from hea- ven or the Eastern Indiesat lost kindred who appear precisely at the opportune timeat wicked people who turn sharp round at the middle period of their lives, Forsake their crimes, confess their folly, And after ten months melancholy, become good and honest men. These con- ditions granted, Mary Howitts Clockmaker, though less likely to be popular than Sam Slick, may be pointed out as qualified for a wide circuit in England. We have indicated the nature of the story. To our old selves, the picture of IDainsby Old Hall, the decaying seat of a decayed family, is worth the price of the book; but younger readers will prefer the scene in the last pages; and none the less, because it has been foreseen from the very first appearance of John Fox, the humorist, with his whimsical ways and his long bag of money.Athena?um. An Essay towards a New Translation of the Epis- tle of St. Paul to the Romans, by B. H. Coop- ER, B. A. THIS translation is professedly conducted on the basis of the authorized version; with a paraphrase and brief explanatory notes, which substitute for the occasion, a critical, philological and exegetical commentary, hereafter to appear. Mr. Cooper has his own theory on the general object of the Epistle: according to him, the apostles design was not the exhibition of the doctrine of justifica- tion by faith, but he availed himself of the doc- trine for an ulterior end, viz., the breaking down of the middle wall of partition between the Jew- ish and Gentile Christians. We think it right to indicate the writers position, though it is obvi- ous that into the controversy itselt it would be im- possible for us to enter. On a matter of such importance, also, it is expedient to wait until the publication of the greater work promised.Athe- na3um. The Nature and Treatment of Deafness and Dis- eases of the Ear, 4c., by W. IDUFTON. ONE of those books which are written, not because the author has anything new to say upon the subject of which they professedly treat, but because he has some other object in view. The medical press teems with such works, and many of them display a very respectable amount of tal- ent; but they are not books that gain the authors 47 any credit as men of science. This, however, is avowedly not their object: it is a not disreputable way of getting the authors name before the pub- lic. What a splendid shop front is to a tradesman, such a book is to the author who writes it,it seems to draw attention to him and to what he has to sell. We do not, however, direct these observations against Mr. Duftons book in partic- ular, which is a respectable epitome of the sub- ject.Athena~um. From the Athenaum. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY. THOSE important regions of Campania, the Ne- cropolis of Cumao, Pozzuoli and the neighborhood of Baii~e, so often examined, still preserve many important relics which are occasionally brought to light by some enterprising individual. The exca- vations made by Lord Vernon are amongst the latest, and a recent number of the Bullettino Archeologico notices them at some length. The principal discoveries have been some tombs in Cumie and Baiie, whence have been taken a vari- ety of objects. Amongst these may be mentioned a perfumers or perfuming vase (lekythos) of earth, with a Greek inscription, and some fragments also of Greek vases, with inscriptions on their feet. These objects found in the necropolis of Cumie are amongst those which have escaped the de- struction of the Greek tombs; begun from the time of the Romans, and never intermitted, so that almost all that belongs to the Greek epoch of this ancient and noble city has been carried away or destroyed, or at least barbarously mutilated. Rare is it indeed to meet with Greek vases entire; the vasettino recently found, and whose smallness and apparent meanness has preserved it perhaps to our days, is one of those rare objects, which have been rescued from destruction, being perfectly entire, and well preserved. The ornaments are painted in a color tending to red, on the base of the natural color of the earth, (argilla,) and it is evident that whilst these ornaments on the external circumference of the vasettino consist of simple lines, in the upper portion of it they imitate two figures of undeter- mined quadrupeds, expressed after the fashion of arabesques. Round the brim there is the appear- ance of rays, on the circular painted lines the inscription. The form of the letters, the orthogra- phy, the dialect are remarkable. Translated it is as follows I am the perfumers of Tatai; he who shall steal me will become blind. In the form of the letters, the antiquary recognizes the beautiful, pure, and elegant conformation of the Ar- caico-Greco alphabet, in which were usually writ- ten the short epigraphs of the Cumiean medals; one inscription gives us the form of sixteen different characters of the primitive Greek alphabet. The orthography is pure; the dialect Ionic, cor- responding to the most ancient Attic tongue. With respect to the subject, such threats were often engraved on vases against those who stole them. At Pozzuoli has been discovered a tomb, containing certain kitchen utensils, with three inscriptions; other objects found at Cumin have been some vases with blank figures. Some little figures of terra cotta, nine unguentarii of alabas- ter, twelve pieces of bronze money, twelve Egyp- tian images, with a necklace composed of thirty- four beads of gold. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY.

My Uncle, the Clock-maker. By MARY H0WITT. WHEN Mary Howitts foot is in her native orchardsthat is, when she talks about English village lifeshe may always be depended upon as a faithful and experienced chronicler. Her inven- tion, however, is given to the romantic, and hence, her working out of a moral is rather apt to be done in that fine fairy-tale style which, for a while, the Marcet and Edgeworth school of writers for the young brought into disrepute. Now, however, that the utility people are becoming less ex- clusive, less resolute to have proof for every fact, and a geometrical scale for imagination, in place of that ladder where angels stepRomance has again leave to peep in at the nursery and school-room door :without fear of a Mr. Burchell to cry Fudge! at fortunes raining from hea- ven or the Eastern Indiesat lost kindred who appear precisely at the opportune timeat wicked people who turn sharp round at the middle period of their lives, Forsake their crimes, confess their folly, And after ten months melancholy, become good and honest men. These con- ditions granted, Mary Howitts Clockmaker, though less likely to be popular than Sam Slick, may be pointed out as qualified for a wide circuit in England. We have indicated the nature of the story. To our old selves, the picture of IDainsby Old Hall, the decaying seat of a decayed family, is worth the price of the book; but younger readers will prefer the scene in the last pages; and none the less, because it has been foreseen from the very first appearance of John Fox, the humorist, with his whimsical ways and his long bag of money.Athena?um. An Essay towards a New Translation of the Epis- tle of St. Paul to the Romans, by B. H. Coop- ER, B. A. THIS translation is professedly conducted on the basis of the authorized version; with a paraphrase and brief explanatory notes, which substitute for the occasion, a critical, philological and exegetical commentary, hereafter to appear. Mr. Cooper has his own theory on the general object of the Epistle: according to him, the apostles design was not the exhibition of the doctrine of justifica- tion by faith, but he availed himself of the doc- trine for an ulterior end, viz., the breaking down of the middle wall of partition between the Jew- ish and Gentile Christians. We think it right to indicate the writers position, though it is obvi- ous that into the controversy itselt it would be im- possible for us to enter. On a matter of such importance, also, it is expedient to wait until the publication of the greater work promised.Athe- na3um. The Nature and Treatment of Deafness and Dis- eases of the Ear, 4c., by W. IDUFTON. ONE of those books which are written, not because the author has anything new to say upon the subject of which they professedly treat, but because he has some other object in view. The medical press teems with such works, and many of them display a very respectable amount of tal- ent; but they are not books that gain the authors 47 any credit as men of science. This, however, is avowedly not their object: it is a not disreputable way of getting the authors name before the pub- lic. What a splendid shop front is to a tradesman, such a book is to the author who writes it,it seems to draw attention to him and to what he has to sell. We do not, however, direct these observations against Mr. Duftons book in partic- ular, which is a respectable epitome of the sub- ject.Athena~um. From the Athenaum. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY. THOSE important regions of Campania, the Ne- cropolis of Cumao, Pozzuoli and the neighborhood of Baii~e, so often examined, still preserve many important relics which are occasionally brought to light by some enterprising individual. The exca- vations made by Lord Vernon are amongst the latest, and a recent number of the Bullettino Archeologico notices them at some length. The principal discoveries have been some tombs in Cumie and Baiie, whence have been taken a vari- ety of objects. Amongst these may be mentioned a perfumers or perfuming vase (lekythos) of earth, with a Greek inscription, and some fragments also of Greek vases, with inscriptions on their feet. These objects found in the necropolis of Cumie are amongst those which have escaped the de- struction of the Greek tombs; begun from the time of the Romans, and never intermitted, so that almost all that belongs to the Greek epoch of this ancient and noble city has been carried away or destroyed, or at least barbarously mutilated. Rare is it indeed to meet with Greek vases entire; the vasettino recently found, and whose smallness and apparent meanness has preserved it perhaps to our days, is one of those rare objects, which have been rescued from destruction, being perfectly entire, and well preserved. The ornaments are painted in a color tending to red, on the base of the natural color of the earth, (argilla,) and it is evident that whilst these ornaments on the external circumference of the vasettino consist of simple lines, in the upper portion of it they imitate two figures of undeter- mined quadrupeds, expressed after the fashion of arabesques. Round the brim there is the appear- ance of rays, on the circular painted lines the inscription. The form of the letters, the orthogra- phy, the dialect are remarkable. Translated it is as follows I am the perfumers of Tatai; he who shall steal me will become blind. In the form of the letters, the antiquary recognizes the beautiful, pure, and elegant conformation of the Ar- caico-Greco alphabet, in which were usually writ- ten the short epigraphs of the Cumiean medals; one inscription gives us the form of sixteen different characters of the primitive Greek alphabet. The orthography is pure; the dialect Ionic, cor- responding to the most ancient Attic tongue. With respect to the subject, such threats were often engraved on vases against those who stole them. At Pozzuoli has been discovered a tomb, containing certain kitchen utensils, with three inscriptions; other objects found at Cumin have been some vases with blank figures. Some little figures of terra cotta, nine unguentarii of alabas- ter, twelve pieces of bronze money, twelve Egyp- tian images, with a necklace composed of thirty- four beads of gold. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY.

My Uncle, the Clock-maker. By MARY H0WITT. WHEN Mary Howitts foot is in her native orchardsthat is, when she talks about English village lifeshe may always be depended upon as a faithful and experienced chronicler. Her inven- tion, however, is given to the romantic, and hence, her working out of a moral is rather apt to be done in that fine fairy-tale style which, for a while, the Marcet and Edgeworth school of writers for the young brought into disrepute. Now, however, that the utility people are becoming less ex- clusive, less resolute to have proof for every fact, and a geometrical scale for imagination, in place of that ladder where angels stepRomance has again leave to peep in at the nursery and school-room door :without fear of a Mr. Burchell to cry Fudge! at fortunes raining from hea- ven or the Eastern Indiesat lost kindred who appear precisely at the opportune timeat wicked people who turn sharp round at the middle period of their lives, Forsake their crimes, confess their folly, And after ten months melancholy, become good and honest men. These con- ditions granted, Mary Howitts Clockmaker, though less likely to be popular than Sam Slick, may be pointed out as qualified for a wide circuit in England. We have indicated the nature of the story. To our old selves, the picture of IDainsby Old Hall, the decaying seat of a decayed family, is worth the price of the book; but younger readers will prefer the scene in the last pages; and none the less, because it has been foreseen from the very first appearance of John Fox, the humorist, with his whimsical ways and his long bag of money.Athena?um. An Essay towards a New Translation of the Epis- tle of St. Paul to the Romans, by B. H. Coop- ER, B. A. THIS translation is professedly conducted on the basis of the authorized version; with a paraphrase and brief explanatory notes, which substitute for the occasion, a critical, philological and exegetical commentary, hereafter to appear. Mr. Cooper has his own theory on the general object of the Epistle: according to him, the apostles design was not the exhibition of the doctrine of justifica- tion by faith, but he availed himself of the doc- trine for an ulterior end, viz., the breaking down of the middle wall of partition between the Jew- ish and Gentile Christians. We think it right to indicate the writers position, though it is obvi- ous that into the controversy itselt it would be im- possible for us to enter. On a matter of such importance, also, it is expedient to wait until the publication of the greater work promised.Athe- na3um. The Nature and Treatment of Deafness and Dis- eases of the Ear, 4c., by W. IDUFTON. ONE of those books which are written, not because the author has anything new to say upon the subject of which they professedly treat, but because he has some other object in view. The medical press teems with such works, and many of them display a very respectable amount of tal- ent; but they are not books that gain the authors 47 any credit as men of science. This, however, is avowedly not their object: it is a not disreputable way of getting the authors name before the pub- lic. What a splendid shop front is to a tradesman, such a book is to the author who writes it,it seems to draw attention to him and to what he has to sell. We do not, however, direct these observations against Mr. Duftons book in partic- ular, which is a respectable epitome of the sub- ject.Athena~um. From the Athenaum. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY. THOSE important regions of Campania, the Ne- cropolis of Cumao, Pozzuoli and the neighborhood of Baii~e, so often examined, still preserve many important relics which are occasionally brought to light by some enterprising individual. The exca- vations made by Lord Vernon are amongst the latest, and a recent number of the Bullettino Archeologico notices them at some length. The principal discoveries have been some tombs in Cumie and Baiie, whence have been taken a vari- ety of objects. Amongst these may be mentioned a perfumers or perfuming vase (lekythos) of earth, with a Greek inscription, and some fragments also of Greek vases, with inscriptions on their feet. These objects found in the necropolis of Cumie are amongst those which have escaped the de- struction of the Greek tombs; begun from the time of the Romans, and never intermitted, so that almost all that belongs to the Greek epoch of this ancient and noble city has been carried away or destroyed, or at least barbarously mutilated. Rare is it indeed to meet with Greek vases entire; the vasettino recently found, and whose smallness and apparent meanness has preserved it perhaps to our days, is one of those rare objects, which have been rescued from destruction, being perfectly entire, and well preserved. The ornaments are painted in a color tending to red, on the base of the natural color of the earth, (argilla,) and it is evident that whilst these ornaments on the external circumference of the vasettino consist of simple lines, in the upper portion of it they imitate two figures of undeter- mined quadrupeds, expressed after the fashion of arabesques. Round the brim there is the appear- ance of rays, on the circular painted lines the inscription. The form of the letters, the orthogra- phy, the dialect are remarkable. Translated it is as follows I am the perfumers of Tatai; he who shall steal me will become blind. In the form of the letters, the antiquary recognizes the beautiful, pure, and elegant conformation of the Ar- caico-Greco alphabet, in which were usually writ- ten the short epigraphs of the Cumiean medals; one inscription gives us the form of sixteen different characters of the primitive Greek alphabet. The orthography is pure; the dialect Ionic, cor- responding to the most ancient Attic tongue. With respect to the subject, such threats were often engraved on vases against those who stole them. At Pozzuoli has been discovered a tomb, containing certain kitchen utensils, with three inscriptions; other objects found at Cumin have been some vases with blank figures. Some little figures of terra cotta, nine unguentarii of alabas- ter, twelve pieces of bronze money, twelve Egyp- tian images, with a necklace composed of thirty- four beads of gold. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY.

My Uncle, the Clock-maker. By MARY H0WITT. WHEN Mary Howitts foot is in her native orchardsthat is, when she talks about English village lifeshe may always be depended upon as a faithful and experienced chronicler. Her inven- tion, however, is given to the romantic, and hence, her working out of a moral is rather apt to be done in that fine fairy-tale style which, for a while, the Marcet and Edgeworth school of writers for the young brought into disrepute. Now, however, that the utility people are becoming less ex- clusive, less resolute to have proof for every fact, and a geometrical scale for imagination, in place of that ladder where angels stepRomance has again leave to peep in at the nursery and school-room door :without fear of a Mr. Burchell to cry Fudge! at fortunes raining from hea- ven or the Eastern Indiesat lost kindred who appear precisely at the opportune timeat wicked people who turn sharp round at the middle period of their lives, Forsake their crimes, confess their folly, And after ten months melancholy, become good and honest men. These con- ditions granted, Mary Howitts Clockmaker, though less likely to be popular than Sam Slick, may be pointed out as qualified for a wide circuit in England. We have indicated the nature of the story. To our old selves, the picture of IDainsby Old Hall, the decaying seat of a decayed family, is worth the price of the book; but younger readers will prefer the scene in the last pages; and none the less, because it has been foreseen from the very first appearance of John Fox, the humorist, with his whimsical ways and his long bag of money.Athena?um. An Essay towards a New Translation of the Epis- tle of St. Paul to the Romans, by B. H. Coop- ER, B. A. THIS translation is professedly conducted on the basis of the authorized version; with a paraphrase and brief explanatory notes, which substitute for the occasion, a critical, philological and exegetical commentary, hereafter to appear. Mr. Cooper has his own theory on the general object of the Epistle: according to him, the apostles design was not the exhibition of the doctrine of justifica- tion by faith, but he availed himself of the doc- trine for an ulterior end, viz., the breaking down of the middle wall of partition between the Jew- ish and Gentile Christians. We think it right to indicate the writers position, though it is obvi- ous that into the controversy itselt it would be im- possible for us to enter. On a matter of such importance, also, it is expedient to wait until the publication of the greater work promised.Athe- na3um. The Nature and Treatment of Deafness and Dis- eases of the Ear, 4c., by W. IDUFTON. ONE of those books which are written, not because the author has anything new to say upon the subject of which they professedly treat, but because he has some other object in view. The medical press teems with such works, and many of them display a very respectable amount of tal- ent; but they are not books that gain the authors 47 any credit as men of science. This, however, is avowedly not their object: it is a not disreputable way of getting the authors name before the pub- lic. What a splendid shop front is to a tradesman, such a book is to the author who writes it,it seems to draw attention to him and to what he has to sell. We do not, however, direct these observations against Mr. Duftons book in partic- ular, which is a respectable epitome of the sub- ject.Athena~um. From the Athenaum. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY. THOSE important regions of Campania, the Ne- cropolis of Cumao, Pozzuoli and the neighborhood of Baii~e, so often examined, still preserve many important relics which are occasionally brought to light by some enterprising individual. The exca- vations made by Lord Vernon are amongst the latest, and a recent number of the Bullettino Archeologico notices them at some length. The principal discoveries have been some tombs in Cumie and Baiie, whence have been taken a vari- ety of objects. Amongst these may be mentioned a perfumers or perfuming vase (lekythos) of earth, with a Greek inscription, and some fragments also of Greek vases, with inscriptions on their feet. These objects found in the necropolis of Cumie are amongst those which have escaped the de- struction of the Greek tombs; begun from the time of the Romans, and never intermitted, so that almost all that belongs to the Greek epoch of this ancient and noble city has been carried away or destroyed, or at least barbarously mutilated. Rare is it indeed to meet with Greek vases entire; the vasettino recently found, and whose smallness and apparent meanness has preserved it perhaps to our days, is one of those rare objects, which have been rescued from destruction, being perfectly entire, and well preserved. The ornaments are painted in a color tending to red, on the base of the natural color of the earth, (argilla,) and it is evident that whilst these ornaments on the external circumference of the vasettino consist of simple lines, in the upper portion of it they imitate two figures of undeter- mined quadrupeds, expressed after the fashion of arabesques. Round the brim there is the appear- ance of rays, on the circular painted lines the inscription. The form of the letters, the orthogra- phy, the dialect are remarkable. Translated it is as follows I am the perfumers of Tatai; he who shall steal me will become blind. In the form of the letters, the antiquary recognizes the beautiful, pure, and elegant conformation of the Ar- caico-Greco alphabet, in which were usually writ- ten the short epigraphs of the Cumiean medals; one inscription gives us the form of sixteen different characters of the primitive Greek alphabet. The orthography is pure; the dialect Ionic, cor- responding to the most ancient Attic tongue. With respect to the subject, such threats were often engraved on vases against those who stole them. At Pozzuoli has been discovered a tomb, containing certain kitchen utensils, with three inscriptions; other objects found at Cumin have been some vases with blank figures. Some little figures of terra cotta, nine unguentarii of alabas- ter, twelve pieces of bronze money, twelve Egyp- tian images, with a necklace composed of thirty- four beads of gold. EXCAVATIONS IN ITALY. THE LARK AND THE ROOKFRIENDS. From Hoods Magazine. THE LARK AND THE ROOKA FABLE. Lo! hear th~ gentle lark !SsAstspa& az. ONCE 011 a timeno matter where A lark took such a fancy to the air, That though he often gazd beneath, Watching the breezy down, or heath, Yet very, very seldom he was found To perch upon the ground. Hour after hour, Through evry change of weather hard or soft, Through sun and shade, and wind and showr, Still fluttering aloft; In silence now, and now in song, lip, up in cloudland all day long, On weary wing, yet with unceasing flight, Like to those Birds of Paradise, so rare, Fabled to live, and love, and feed in air, But never to alight. It causd of course, much speculation Among the featherd generation; Who tried to guess the riddle that was in it The robin puzzled at it, and the wren, The swallows, cock and hen, The wagtail, and the linnet, The yellowhammer, and the finch as well The sparrow askd the tit, who could nt tell, The jay, the piebut all were in the dark, Till out of patience with the common doubt, The rook at last resolvd to worm it out, And thus accosted the mysterious lark Friend, prithee, tell me why You keep this constant hovering so high, As if you had some castle in the air, That you are always poising there, A speck against the sky Neglectful of each old familiar feature Of earth that nursd you in your callow state You think you re only soaring at heavens gate, Whereas you re flying in the face of Nature ! Friend, said the lark, with melancholy tone, And in each little eye a dewdrop shone, No cr