began and ended; for there is no more dis-organized world, so also may we find that tinct or precise line that can be drawn under such a classification than can be done under the present; or in other words, there is no precise point to separate the Zoophyte from the perfect animal, any more than the Cryptogamite from the perfect vegetable. In proportion as the plants of the present genus under consideration recede from Zoophytic appearances, and assumet he vegetable properties, so do their constituent qualities appear to improve. by another process of gradation she has not only diversified her gifts from the torrid climes of the equator to the polar regions of eternal frost, but has also, by means of Alpine situations in various climes, pro duced an equal variety, and by an elevation of two miles at the utmost, actually formed the same botanical arrangement as she does by a change of ninety degrees in latitude. A consideration of this graduated scale of vegetation, will tend much to illustrate our future researches; and we shall commence with the high and spiry pinnacles of antediluvian rocks, which boldly start up from the aboriginal snows and chilling ice that seem to usurp the summits of the loftiest Alpine regions, bidding defiance to the daring foot of man. Yet even here nature is not idle; for on those pin The Mosses are very poor in their constituent parts, or those generally predominant and component; as in chemical analysis they only yield some gummous extractive matter; though the gallie acid is found in some, together with a considerable portion of calcareous earth in others. Of that species which we shall describe under the name of Hepatica, the only remark-nacles may be found several species of able circumstance is, that one variety when cut into pieces diffuses a strong smell of turpentine, a proof that it contains essential oil. crustaceous Lichens, with Saxifrage, both star and snowy, the sparing gifts of the Alpine Flora. No sooner does the snow cease to shew itself in the summer months, than a zone of rocky pasturage commences, affording food to the bounding chamois of the Alps, and to the izard of the Pyrennees, whose range is sometimes invaded by even the mountain sheep and solitary herdsman. This pasturage, however, merely consists of a short and almost barren turf, though in some spots a more luxuriant vegetation may display itself, where the rills descending from the melted snows give fertility. The Lichens, indeed, are much more remarkable with regard to their component parts. Amongst these is the Icelandic Moss, which shall be analyzed in a future lecture; and most of them contain saccharine mucilage, together with a colouring principle. Of the Cryptogamous aquatics we have already detailed the qualities under the head of Fuci: and it will appear in the course of the ensuing lectures that the Ferns and Fungi come nearest to the character of esculent vegetables; but here we may re- Here then does the botanist begin to exmark, that the peculiar, and often very in-plore a vast variety of specimens; yet these tense, smell diffused by ferns, proves the presence of essential oil; for particularly, in cutting across a fresh stalk of Polypodium Auratum, we instantly perceive a smell like that of the leaves of peaches, which equally announces the presence of a combination of water and carbon, such as exists in all the aromatic plants containing essential oils. Nay, in Sweden, and in some parts of England also, ferns not only yield potash when burnt, but even a species of resinous extractive matter; so that the ashes of the burnt roots may be made into balls, and actually used as a substitute for soap. If nature is thus bountiful n her gifts, so as to present to man a graduated scale of all things either for enjoyment or use in the are so minute, so shrunk and condensed from the effects of the winter's frigidity, that it requires a careful eye to discover their extraordinary beauties. As we descend the mountain we find a more luxuriant herbage, enamelled with flowers that almost blush unseen, whilst a few of the hardier shrubs begin to make their appearance. It is here indeed that the Alpine vallies first shew that profusion of vegetation that adorns the brink of the precipice which hangs over the mountain torrent, giving animation to apparent torpor; in short, like beauty seated in the lap of horror. Here do we first meet with the juniper, the savine, the stone pine, and the alder, which the picturesque hand of nature scatters in irregular clumps, so as to diversify the scene, amidst cascades overhung by luxuriant bowers of the Rhododendron and Alpine rose, whilst the dark hue of the evergreens is charmingly diversified by tufts of Saxifrage and Auricula, that find a footing in the clefts of the shattered rocks, sweetly contrasted with the trailing Azalea and other creepers that spring from the spongy hillocks in the more extended spaces. Trees of larger growth now begin to shew themselves, and the weary traveller finds shelter amidst forests of fir, pine, larch, and mountain ash; whilst the birch and the mournful yew arise in striking contrast between the silver bark of the one and the funereal verdure of the latter. In some countries the most luxuriant meadows are found even at this elevation, where the woodlands do not entirely shut out the sun and balmy breezes; while among the shelter of the long grass are traced the Alpine anemone, together with various other mountain plants, such as the yellow gentian, actœa, white hellebore, &c. The thick foliage of the woody belt now gives a sufficient check to the snowy blasts, and a warmer climate commences just at the verge where the winter firs cease to grow spontaneously, and there we find forests of deciduous foliage, interspersed with meadows and corn fields; the torrents too now become rivulets, bordered with the willow and the poplar; while the oak and elm, the spreading lime, the shady beech, &c. extend their broad arms across the smiling plains, affording shelter and protection to the rustic cot and the wellstocked farm. Such are the general progressive features of European botany; but if we recur more particularly to our own happy island, if we trace the snowy summits of the Grampian hills, the bleak unsheltered rocks of the western isles, and the extensive forests of middle Scotland, the remains of the ancient Sylva Caledonia, we shall find a variety of curious species that form the first ranks in a British Flora, and exemplify most fully the principle of gradation which nature so wisely has adopted; for, in the latter spots in particular, will be met with all the varieties of the Alpine and stony Ve ronica, together with the Ophrys, the Pyrola, and many other species, whilst the richest Alpine plants will be met with in districts of mountain granite, whose crevices and ledges will be seen glowing with the luxuriant festoons of the arbutus, whose scarlet and deep blue berries finely contrast with the numerous tufts of the golden cinquefoil. There too will be found nature useful as well as ornamental, as she scatters with an unsparing hand the lichens and the cloud-berries, which clothe even the most elevated summits, amidst the solitude of almost eternal snows, a solitude only broken by the ptarmigan, which there finds food and shelter. Descending through the fertile plains of the Lothians, and crossing the Alpine summits of Cheviot, we may investigate our own native plains, where, though we find not that exuberance of vegetable treasures which in more southern climes adorn the hills and vales, checked by our scanty portion of solar influence, and by our blasting north-easters, and chilling rains, yet still do we enjoy a never-failing verdure of hill and dale, where a rich carpet of verdant turf, tinted with the various hues of papilionaceous plants, presents a rich support to the milder quadrupeds; affording nourishment in some spots even to the aboriginal beasts of the chace, where they are permitted to roam at large, the lords of nature's wilds. After this slight preparatory view of the progressive bounty of nature, we shall close the present lecture with the words of an admired poet, whose reflections on the beauties of British scenery are so happily introductory to the investigation of the minor charms of British landscape, as viewed by our fair readers in their present rural excursions: "Sublimely nature sits on yonder mount, That lifts aspiring groves to purer skies! What splendid fulness feeds th' extatic eye, While summer spreads profuse its treasures ་ Should their walks be directed along the breezy cliff, then may we add with the picturesque Bidlake :— "The waters motion all, with stately fleets, That proudly bear their bulk along, and shade Old Neptune's green domain with swimming woods, Pregnant with wanton winds; and painted barks, On gales of pleasure borne, or bus'ness bent, ON THE FORMER INFLUENCE OF WOMEN IN FRANCE. MY DEAR FRIEND, You once remarked, with much feel ing and sentiment, the influence women had formerly, and still may be said to have, in the happy denouement of one of the longest and most sanguinary tragedies in all history. An event which puts an end, at once, to conscription and war, has placed us under the care of maternal tenderness. During the revolutionary government, women, in saving the proscribed, obtained for themselves often the first place on the list of proscription. Under the government of || Bonaparte women were forgotten, or only remembered to be placed on a system of degradation. The first epocha was the reign of ferocity; the second of unfeeling minds neither of these dominations could long hold in France-Pity and Love could not be banished from their native soil. In times of rudeness and uncivilization, || our women had obtained a blind kind of worship for ancient nations; the progress of politeness has embellished ours, and that of corruption could not overthrow it. Women established their empire when they defended the monarchy of Francis I. of Henry IV. and of Louis XIV. The laws they exercised among us over our manners, our customs, and even on public opinion, were as secret, as judicious, and as determined, as those they observed in their own families. As we are a more lively and energetic people than any other, so we feel more the influence of women. While we meditate for a moment, with an affectation of profundity, it is then that women shew their power over us. But in these few last years their empire seemed at an end. Statesmen began to calculate; and what an appearance sat on the countenance of our females, in those magnificent and gloomy fêtes, where gallantry was exchanged for rudeness and heavy etiquette! How terrified was every mother when she heard || 22 this question, "Are your sons, Madame, in the army?" Certainly, every woman was at liberty to be as luxurious as she pleased; but luxury has been long exploded, when we see the wearisome servility which she brings in her train. What graces are there not in a court, where simplicity reigns, where a just and lively wit displays itself in genuine sallies, and kindness excites the mind to candour! How delightful it is to see our young women forming themselves in groups round the daughter of Louis XVI. and shewing, by their eagerness to imitate the chastened style of her dress, how happy they are to imitate also her virtues! O, let them not endeavour to hush their sorrowful recollections: such recollections recal to their minds the glory of their mothers and their sisters. Women in every age have inspired the most exalted actious—but during the revolution they acted themselves. They had the glory of courage, while they preserved the charms of modesty; nor did an idea of future fame mingle itself with the sacred motives of their loyalty and devotion: and by their noble silence the memorial of past times has not been able to record the thousandth part of their courageous deeds. The greatest part of those whose elevated actions have excited so interesting aù admiration have perished. Let us weep over their sacred tombs, or rather let us raise tombs to those who braved death to preserve their virtue and principles unsullied. Let those who lament the loss of a beloved sister, weep before the marble which represents the figure of Madame Elizabeth: let her be represented at that moment, when a troop of ruffians, taking her for the Queen, threatened her life, and she made use of every effort to keep them in that error. Let an inscription commemorate the virtues of Mademoiselle Gattey, who, on hearing sentence of death passed on her brother for his loyalty, cried out "Long live the King," and followed him to the scaffold. A wife in her early bloom set the example, Madame de Vergne, the wife of the old commander of Longwi. Both these women were led to death. We need not fear that monuments erected to such as these will destroy that bond of harmony of which our King has so nobly set the example. When tears and prayers are our employment, vengeance may be said to sleep: these monuments will only give birth to the most laudable feelings. He who can insult remorse, is almost as guilty as him who insults misfortune. whom he had accompanied to prison, was cited to appear before that tribunal whose sentence was certain death: by the assistance of a friend he was offered to be freed from prison, and who bribing the jailors, they also urged his escape. "No," said he, I shall add to the torments of my father !" The most tender persuasions could not force him to escape: he died by the side of his father, who, firmly devoted to his King, inspired his whole family with the same sublime sentiments. Mademoiselle de Sombreuil, some years after, married M. de Villelune, an officer who was worthy of becoming a member of this chivalrous family. She resided constantly in the city of Anspach, where, under the auspices of the Queen of Prussia, that model of beauty, virtue, and every grace, she established a most interesting colony of emigrants. By how many tender cares did this Queen, since so unfortunate, soften the lot of these her noble protegés, who were the friends of M. Villelune! They experienced a degree of felicity at Anspach, if such can be said to be the lot of those who survive the greatest part of their family. How much did this colony bless and honour the tender and idolized consort of a Sovereign, who yet laments her in this city. This is also the time to inform ourselves of the fate of those women who have yet survived, and given proofs of a loyalty the most heroic and renowned, and who form a sublime and consolatory part of our dreadful history. Tell me, my friend, what favoured land, what happy family, have sheltered Mademoiselle Elizabeth Cazotte, who, on the second of September, saved her father from the hands of the executioners, one of the most cheerful and respectable of old men? Nor can I forget Mademoiselle de Sombreuil, who, on the same day, saved, by an effort of unheard-of courage, a father who the following year fell a prey to other assassins. The name of Sombreui! ought to be ever dear to Frenchmen!-it recals to our minds another martyr to royalty and honour: he who on the fatal rock of Quiberon gave up his life to save that of his comrades, and, alas! made a useless sacrifice! This is not all; a second brother of Mademoiselle Som-made her asylum! breuil, who two days before his father, Our most illustrious generals, who so often passed through the city of Anspach, evinced the greatest desire to pay their homage to the generous daughter of the Governor of Invalids, and to moderate the ravages of war in that place which she had Yours, &c. THE DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING.-A FRAGMENT. and customs which are in direct opposition to your own; but it is yours which you must alter. For example: you have been accustomed to drink water only; you must "My dear sister, you are going to be married; you know how well I love you, therefore permit me to give you a word of advice." “Do you doubt the pleasure it will give now mix some wine with your water: by me to listen to you?" so doing you will shew a compliant temper, and all will be well." "Your intended bridegroom is one of my brave comrades, by whose side I have fought for ten years. During his whole life he has seldom approached Paris, and has, in consequence, contracted some habits "What next, my dear brother?" "You have accustomed yourself to lie in bed till noon: my friend, who used to pass every night almost on guard, was always of men, you have never known the want of money: milliners' bills, perfumers' bills, dress-makers' accounts, have all been defrayed without your once looking over them. My dear Gustavus does not go on in that manner; often obliged to economise, he could not, till he had well cast up the different, bills of his tailor and his shoemaker, give them even more than a part of their different accounts; you must avoid, in future, the paying too much, as well as the not paying regularly; and only order what is requisite and least expensive. "I could also say much to you on the employment of time; but I must tell you first how my friend is accustomed to employ his leisure hours: that would be difficult; he will tell you himself to-morrow, "Thanks to my father, who is the best if he thinks proper." SINGULAR CUSTOMS AT ARRACAN, IN INDIA BEYOND THE GANGES. || WHEN any of the natives fall sick they || mark upon the arms, sides, or shoulders; send for two or three priests, who, after || and always offer him a part of their proviblowing on them, say certain prayers and sions before they eat. They have also a make them offer sacrifices of fowls, &c. ac- variety of common idols in their temples, cording to the ability of the sick person. which are built in the form of our church The priests and relations carouse on the steeples: to these they also send provisions, sacrifice, and if the patient recovers it is and in the winter they clothe them. ascribed to these fooleries; and if not, the priests pretend that their sacrifices are accepted, but God designs the patient a greater favour in the other world; and with regard to such as are incurable, they think it charity to drown them. Upon the death of persons of note they make a dreadful noise, like that of the Irish howl, at their burials, and burn their bodies; but those of the poor are cast into the river on account of the scarcity of wood in that country. As they believe the metempsychosis or transmigration, they adorn their coffins with figures of such creatures as they reckon the noblest. Each family has its domestic idol, by which they swear, and before which marriages are performed. They make, with a burning iron, the idol's They keep an annual festival in remembrance of their dead; at which time they carry, in a heavy chariot, one of their idols in procession, attended by ninety priests dressed in yellow satin; and many of the poor blind bigots throw themselves under the chariot wheels, or tear their flesh with iron hooks, fastened to the chariot for that purpose; they sprinkle the idol with their blood, and hang up the hooks in their temples as sacred reliques. These people never cut their hair, but tie it up in locks behind, and adorn it with knots of very fine cloth. The women wear so many bracelets and ornaments of copper, ivory, and silver round their legs, that they are rather an incumbrance than an orna"ment. |