OR, Literary and Scientific Mirror. No. 35.-NEW SERIES. BURNS, SCOTT, BYRON, AND At the recent commemoration in Dumfries of the birth-day of the immortal Scottish bard, Barus, a very just eulogium to his memory was delivered by (archairman, Mr. Commelin. A most excellent tribute was also paid to the merits of some of our most emi >ent living Poets, by the Rev. Mr. Gillespie, who must laced under military arrest, some months ago, for Having prayed for the Queen.—Edit. Kal. be familiar to our readers as the gentleman who was After the usual toasts, Mr. COMMELIN, he Chairman, spoke as follows : streams, the rocks, the meadows, and the interesting with honest men and bonny corn fields of his country. His garlands lasses. He relies on the productive force are entirely composed of native flowers, and of his own mind, and upon those original his tuneful numbers echo the wood notes and inventive powers which are the distinwild' of the feathered minstrels that war-guishing attributes and the most splendid ble in the groves.-Feelingly alive, however, endowments of genius.-With the excep as Burns was to all the beauties of external tion of Shakspeare, who never had, and nature, and though his works are a mirror probably never will have, a rival, there is reflecting the image of his country with all scarcely any other British poet whose works the accuracy of real life, yet his muse was are more generally read, or more frequently too buoyant-too elastic-too full of high quoted. If Shakspeare, however, be the imaginings' and lofty aspirations to be a sun of the poetical firmament, Burns is at mere outside observer. She not only sees, least a fixed star of the first magnitude, "In estimating the merits of Burns as a but she feels-and feels with an intensity illuminating our northern hemisphere with wet, we may venture to keep entirely out of and ardour that give to the great body of his golden radiance. No Scots poet was new the disadvantages of his birth and edu-his poetry a deep and touching interest, and ever crowned with the same distinguished His works possess too much in-a powerful moral expression. It is full of honours. He has extended the knowledge asic excellence to require an apology.life, and spirit, and motion. It comes home and advanced the dignity of our native le has no occasion to bespeak the lenity of to men's business and bosom.' It lashes tongue, by impressing on it a classic chajudges for the purpose of disarming the foily with unsparing ridicule, and vice with racter-he has raised its value by vesting he severity of their criticism. He stands indignant and merciless invective. It wakes in it a splendid capital, and thus rendering you the adamantine basis of his own de- those tender sympathies-those blest ingre- it an object of general interest, and worthy erts, and asks no other favour but that of dients in the composition of man,-which of liberal attention. The poetry of Burns in impartial trial. He enters the lists as a render him susceptible of the most delight-possesses this remarkable quality, that it is itimate member of the family of genius, ful emotions-it expands those benevolent equally understood and admired by readers d throws down his glove with all the dignity affectious which are the wine aud oil of life of every description-by the gentleman a true knight. The circumstances of-it enlarges the horizon of our enjoyments and the scholar, who appreciates its merits personal history are lost in the splendour-it inspires those generous and high-born according to the principles of taste and the his achievements, and we look to nothing sentiments which dignify and ennoble hu- canons of criticism—and by the toil-worn it the deeds he has performed and the ho- manity-it animates our patriotism-reno-peasant, who judges of it by the grosser vates our earliest and fondest recollections instinct of common sense, or by its electric urs he has won. ment. But though Burns may safely dispense-cherishes that love of liberty implanted in action on his heart and feelings. We may th any plea of favour founded upon the hu- the heart of man by its Divine Author, and warrantably conclude therefore, that the lity of his rank. or the defects of his edu- lends to the sublimer feelings of our nature foundations of Burns's excellence are deeply tion, yet the associations and the habits all the glowing energies of poetic excite- laid in our common nature, and the fame his early life must have had an importhat rests upon such a pedestal, bids as fair at influence on the character of his poetry. "Lord of the lion heart and eagle as any thing human can do, for the stability ed up in the hardy and invigorating oc- eye,' Burns carries into his poetry that of an immortal duration." pations of the husbandman, his works a- spirit of independence which was a striking Mr. GILLESPIE, in the course of the afterund with evidence that he had followed feature of his personal character. Rich in noon, gave as a toast, "the Triumvirate of Geplough. Few have surveyed the phe- the exuberant stores of his own imagina- nius,-Scott, Byron, and Campbell,"—a mena of rural nature with a more obser- tion, he borrows nothing from the treasures toast which he prefaced with the following nt eye, or described them with happier of classic antiquity. He has no fawnsHe dwells with exquisite delight no satyrs-no Dryads-but he supplies Long the hills and dales, the woods and their place with divinities infinitely more ect. observations; "The three greatest Poets of the present age are confessedly Scott, Byron, and Camp Among the toasts drunk on this occasion were the following: bell. The former has been created a Bar-ways more abrupt and less evolved than and of liberty, and we rise with hearts at onet since our last anniversary, and it was that of Scott, his sentiments and style are once affected and improved by the perusal honourable to his Majesty that this was the more pithy and condensed, and the emo- of his works. He moves us to virtue, and first title which he conferred on ascending tions which he excites are more profound. he animates us to patriotism. He is a highthe throne, a tribute justly due to such high He is a Nobleman, and an aristocratical lander, and the wild airs of the Celtic muse intellectual superiority. Sometimes the title education and the habits of fashionable life, sometimes breathe from his harp, whose honours the man, but here the man honours have not blunted those natural feelings and seat, as Scott expresses it, with his usual the title. sympathies to which they are generally sup- felicity, is in the mist of the secret and "It would almost require a portion of posed to be so unfavourable; a circumstance, solitary hill, and her voice in the murmur their genius to appreciate the comparative I concieve, not the least remarkable in the of the mountain stream. He that woos her, merits of these three distinguished indivi- history of his genius. He luxuriates in the must love the barren rock more than the duals. Sir Walter is certainly the most uni- fields of classical antiquity, and when he des- fertile valley; and the solitude of the desert versal genius; for to his powerful, active cribes Athens or Rome, we think we hear better than the festivity of the hall.' and versatile mind,every species of composi- the Genii of these devoted cities lamenting tion seems alike easy. He equally excels over the ruins of their country. By his desin the grave and the gay-the sentimental cription of Turkish and Asiatic scenes and and the grotesque-the beautiful and the sub-manners, he has given an air of originality and lime; in the just and glowing description novelty to his productions; but his great of external nature, or in the graphic deline-mastery lies in exciting those profound ation of character and manners; in pour-emotions of the heart, which belong a lady of distinguished family, of venerabie traying the comic scenes of vulgar life, as in to man in every age, nation, and clime.character, and rare accomplishments, who those of courts, of castles, and of palaces. Strength and feeling are the character-took an early and decided interest in Burnei Poetry or prose seems alike to him; alike to istics of his Muse, and his tenderness is prosperity--whose patronage was extended him convincing the judgment, affecting the like that of Hercules weeping as he leans to him when patronage was of peculiar value, heart, or delighting the imagination. His over his club. But there is a misanthropic and for whose kind and encouraging atten mind embraces every subject, and adorns gloom which broods over all his writings, tions, Burns's gratitude is indelibly recorded every subject which it embraces. But and we must deplore that virtue does not in his works. above all, he excels in the just and animated always find an advocate in one of the greatdescription of the feudal times, which gives est poets of any age. It is delightful to see even to his works of imagination, a value talent enlisted under the banners of religion, little inferior to history itself; for he is un-and the gifted sons of genius repaying the questionably the first Antiquarian, as well invaluable boon' in gratitude to their beneas the most popular and celebrated l'oet of factor. The widow and children of Burns. The memory of the late Dr. Currie of Liverpool, the accomplished Biographer of Burns,-the judicious Editor of his Workt and the benevolent and powerful advocate of the interests of his family. Our fair Country-women, from whee his age. We have in him the rare occur- "The last, but not the least of this trium- lips, even the poetry of Burns derives 24ence of a most ingenious and beautiful wri-virate of genius, is Campbell, unquestion-ditional sweetness. ter, being almost the most voluminous; and even when he wishes to conceal himself, he is detected by his genius, and we discover the mighty magician flashing behind his cloud. Moreover, he has discovered a golden mine amid the barren rocks of Parnassus, where other poets found nothing but the fountain of penury to bedew their laurels; and he has realized an Oriental fortune by his writings, in a land where commerce had been supposed to be the only handmaid to opulence. Scientific Notices. THIRD PART OF THE OBSERVATIONS JA ably the most classic poet of his age. His James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, & poetry is formed on the closest models of The utmost harmony prevailed, and the the ancient Muse. His lines are exquisitely company, highly delighted, did not sp finished, and their polish is only surpassed rate till a late hour. by their brilliancy. He is tender as Ovid, and pure and majestic as Virgil. His strains are like the streams of paradise, which breathe only music, and reflect only beauty. MR. LAWRENCE'S LECTURES. It may be said of him, as has been finely observed of the painter Albano, 'that the (Concluded from our former numbers.} Ioves mixed his colours, and the Graces Before we leave this subject, there is still have fashioned his forms.' His benevolent view of it, on which we wish to make a few che "Lord Byron is the most affecting of all spirit loves to repose on the most pleasing referred to, and we adinit, that the hypothests of We set aside the principles which we have prets. He is without a rival in painting the scenes, and to picture to itself the most de-terialism may be brought out without absurdity : 4 } contradiction. We then proceed to try it, as we w deep and impassioned workings of the human lightful prospects of human improvement try any other hypothesis, by its agreement w In this view we wish to stare He alike excels in delineating the and happiness. He writes slowly, (for his phenomena. younger part of our readers, in what manner th tender breathings of love-the dark and ag-productions are like angel visits, few and which we learn from physiology and pathology, lần enising writhings of remorse-or the cold far between,') because he writes for im- upon this most important subject. and withering horrors of despair. Like the mortality, and his name will last as long as phantoms which he conjures up from the those objects of nature which he has adorned gulph of hell, he is awful and sublime in and irradiated by the beautiful pencil of his the midst of his obscurity. His fable is al- imagination. He is the poet of morality soul. tions. An unprejudiced inquirer, investigating the sph** organization being the functions of the brain, with which it is most nearly connected, does it, without any change in the disease, burst forth in all its original splendour at the very moment of dissolution? What is the fair, the inevitable conclusion, but that the phenomena of physiology and pathology, are directly at variance with the hypothesis of materialism, and in exact accordance with the sublime doctrine of religion: that the mysterious part of our being, which thinks, and wills, and reasons, survives the wreck of its mortal tenement, and aspires to immortality. paired when this organization impaired, and cease must be impaired when it is impaired, and in exact when it is destroyed: farther, that the function is proportion to the extent of the diseaae; must make built up before our eyes, by the action of the five ex-progress in decay, as the disease makes progress, and ternal senses. This is the hypothesis of Mr. Law-not revive unless the disease be removed. Thus, sight rence, and of some philosophers of the French school. depends on a healthy state of the eye. By many disThe other hopothesis is,—that thought and reason are eases which injure the eye, sight is impaired: as the properties of a distinct immaterial being, which is disease advances, sight decays; and there is no examunited to the body of a living man, but may exist after ple of it being restored, unless the disease which this union is dissolved. This is the hypothesis of impaired it be removed. According to the second Boyle, and Locke, and Newton-of Haller, and Boer- hypothesis, the immaterial soul has an immediate conhave, and Dugald Stewart. Now in regard to these nection with the brain and the organs of sense, as by Hæc studia adolescentiam alunt, senectutem oblee two hypotheses, we are disposed to admit, for the sake means of them it holds intercourse with the external tant. The investigation of the truth on this momenof argument, that, upon the mere principles of physio- world, and with other living beings. By various dis- tous question is inconceivably important in itself, and logy, we may bring forward the one as well as the eases of the brain, this intercourse is greatly inter- it exerts an influence, in the highest degree salutary, other; that physiology does not directly prove either rupted, or entirely suspended; but the soul itself on the mind that conducts the investigation in a spirit of them; the question, therefore, is, with which of remains unimpaired. of grave and chastened inquiry, suited to the serious them do the inductions of physiology and pathology On comparing these two hypotheses with the pheno-import of the subject. "Nor is it merely," says Mr. most accord? Which of them is most agreeable to mena connected with the pathology of the brain, the Stewart, "with each other that these principles are the phenomena? On the very first view of the sub- following inquiries naturally occur to us. In diseases connected (the immortality of the soul and natural st, there are several points connected with the first of the brain, do we observe the intellectual faculties religion.) They have a relation to all the other prinhypothesis, which we think must shake a philosophic decay in exact proportion to the progress of the disease, ciples of moral philosophy, insomuch that a person who quirer. according to the first hypothesis: or do we, according entertains just views of the one, never fails to entertain Thought and reason are the functions of the brain; to the second, see any reason to believe that there just views of the other. Perhaps it would not be guing Fat the brain is not sufficient to produce the function, exists a soul, which, in these diseases, is only cut off too far to assert, that they have a relation to almost all for it requires to be built up by the action of the five from its intercourse with us and with the external the truths we know, in the moral, the intellectual, and external senses. This is rather incomprehensible; but, world? the material world. One thing is certain, that, in prowithout stopping to examine it, we cannot fail to reThough it may be thus cut off in a great proportion portion as our knowledge extends, our doubts and objecmark, that, in many of the inferior animals, the exterof instances, do we ever observe this subtile and active tions disappear; new light continually breaks in upon Dal senses are as perfect as in man: how then does it being making any attempt to break from the restraints from every quarter, and more of order and system happen that these have never built up any thing reIt is a strange confirmation mbling the reasonable human soul? Here is an ef- ed amid extensive destruction of its material residence? of these remarks," adds this great philosopher, "that under which it is held? Does it ever remain unimpair- appears in the universe. fect ascribed to a cause, and here is the cause operat- Does it ever, after being long obscured, burst out in the most important discoveries, both in moral and lag in the most perfect manner, in ten thousand times the midst of frightful ruin; and thus, though in a few physical science, have been made by men friendly to ten thousand instances, without in any one instance instances, vindicate its claim to independent existence? the principles of natural religion; and that those producing the effect that is ascribed to it. But far-On this interesting subject, the following observations writers who affected to be sceptical on this last subject, ther, is reason a function of the brain? Does this ef- occur to us, out of the many that are recorded by their other inquiries. This consideration, while it have in general been paradoxical and sophistical in fect then bear no proportion to its cause? Has the writers of the first authority. A man, mentioned by illustrates the connection which different classes of function no ratio to the organ on which it is immedi-Dr. Ferriar, who died of an affection of the brain, truths have with each other, proves, that it is to a ately dependent? On this part of the subject no light retained his faculties entire to the instant of his death, is afforded by physiology; for in the inferior animals which was sudden. On examining his head, the whole mind well fitted for the discovery and reception of there is found a brain, possessing the same mechanical right hemisphere of the brain was found destroyed by truth in general, that the evidences of religion are the and chemical properties as the human brain; and in some of them fully equal to the human brain, both in suppuration. In a similar case by Diemerbroeck, half most satisfactory." a pound of matter was found in the brain; and in one respectfully submit to the attention of Mr. Lawrence. These considerations from this high authority, we the relative and absolute dimensions. In relative di- by Heberden, there was half a pound of water. Mr. mensions the brains of many animals exceed the hu- Marshall mentions a man who died with a pound of We believe him to be a man of talents and acquiremin One of the large is that of the canary bird, water in his brain, after having been long in a state of ments; but in the work now before us, he has wan.. which, in proportion to the size of its body, is twice idiocy. A few hours before his death he became per-dered into speculations for which his intellectual habits the size of the human brain. And in regard to abso- fectly rational. A man, whose case is related by Mr. are completely unqualified, and has "reasoned downdute dimensions, without referring to the elephant, we C'Halloran, suffered such an injury of the head, that wards.' We fondly hope that he was not himself peed only state, that the brain of a seal, six feet long, a large portion of the bone was removed on the right aware of the abyss into which his speculations were is tully as large as the brain of a man. In this case side; and extensive suppuration having taken place, leading him. Again, the cause appears without the effect,-the organ there was discharged at each dressing, through the without the function that is ascribed to it. The organ opening, an immense quantity of matter, mixed with also, be it remembered, is, in all its obvious and ac.irge portions of the substance of the brain. knowledged functions (viz. those which relate to sen-eighth day of the disease, Mr. O'Halloran remarks, sation) as perfect as in man, but the rational soul ap-the sore continued to discharge greatly, insomuch pears not. Does the want of speech obscure the proofs that, when I affirm that three ounces of the brain, with et its existence? No:-for Mr. Lawrence himself a horrid smell, followed each dressing, I am certain I As shewn us that in several animals the organs of am a great deal under the quantity." And again, on speech are as perfect as in man, and that they are pre- the 13th day, "the cavern was terrible, and I feared ented from speaking only by the absence of reason, that the remains of the lobes of the right side of the hot by any defect of organization. brain would follow. This man lived to the 17th day. He was paralytic on the left side of his body, but "he retained his intellect to the very moment of his dissolution:" and Mr. O'Halloran particularly remarks, that through the whole course of the disease, his mind maintained a remarkable tranquillity. In a similar case by M. Billot, the patient lived till the 18th day, and retained his faculties until a few hours before his death, when he fell into a kind of stupor. On examin-short letter in about each month. ing this head, no more than the bulk of an egg was found to remain of the proper substance of the brain. Besides this extensive disease of the brain in general, it can be shown, by numerous examples, that the individual parts of it, the pineal gland, the corpora quadrigemina, the corpus striatum, &c. may all be diseased or destroyed, without affecting the intellectual powers. Now, if thought be a function of the brain, it must either reside in the whole of it equally, or in some individual part. But it does not reside in the whole; for we have seen in the above examples the general mass destroyed to a frightful extent, without impairing thought in any sensible degree. And it does not reside in any of the particular parts which are distinguished from the general mass; for each of these have been destroyed without affecting it. Therefore it does not It is mere trifling to allege, on this part of the sub, that the remarkable difference of functions signed to the human brain, does not depend upon the size of the organ, but on certain peculiarities in ts internal structure; or, as it is usually expressed, n the developement of the parts. It is a mere gramitous assumption, unsupported by the slightest anaogy, or rather expressly contradicted by the analogy if all other organs. Betwixt various organs in man and other animals, and betwixt the same organs in Jifferent animals, we, in many instances, find the most jemarkable differences in structure. These differences ire admirably adapted to the circumstances of parti fular animals, but the function to be performed is altimately the same. Such diversities we observe in the lungs, but all the arieties perform simply respiration:-in the heart and great vessels, but all perform circulation:-in the tomach and alimentary canal, but the most simple perform perfect digestion, and the most complicated do nothing more. Farther, we find no organ that performs a double function; but materialism assigns a double function to the brain. This is evidently unphilosophical; but our limits prevent us from enlargng upon this part of the argument. We next attend to the light that is furnished by pathology, or the effects of diseases on the brain. According to the first hypothesis, reason must be mmediately dependent on a healthy state of the brain; reside in the brain. On the We think too highly of his understanding to believe that he is really convinced by his own reasoning; we hope too well of his heart to imagine that he seriously intended to lead his pupils into a system, dark as the valley of the shadow of death, and pestilential as the vapours of Acheron. In justice to Mr. Lawrence it ought to he mentioned, that he is not alone in his opinions, nor in his promul gation of them. Nisbet in his anatomy says, "It is more than probable that thought is a function of the brain, resembling secretion in other glands;" and the same opinion nearly is found in the works of almost every writer on physiology, and heard from the greater number of the professors of that science: so much for him; for myself, I have to beg your indulgence with regard to my writing, being quite unaccustomed to it, never for many years having written more than one I am, Sir, your most obedient, TRANSCRIBER. Baron Lindeneau, who recently published a work on the diminution of the Solar mass, says that the sun may have been imperceptibly subject to successive diminution since the science of astronomy has been cultivated. Baron Lindeneau supposes the sun's diameter to be 800,000 miles-4,204,000,000 feet, or nearly 2000 seconds. We have not, he observes, hitherto possessed any instrument for measuring the diameter of the heavenly bodies to a second. The sun may therefore diminish 12,000 of its diameter, or ceived. Supposing the sun to diminish daily 2 feet. 2,102,000 feet, without the possibility of being per Is the reasoning faculty, then, thus independent of the most extensive destruction of organization? Does it remain unimpaired amid the most frightful ruin; it would require three thousand years to render the and, after being long obscured by disease of the organ diminution of a second of its diameter visible. Why do the blooming roses fade, That on thy cheek were wont to dwell? Why heave the sigh, my lovely maid! Ah! why repine at my farewel? Por still thy fairy visions, sweet, On my fond heart, in rapture swell, And every pleasing scene repeat, Ere Pleasure bade her last farewel At that sad hour, when forced to part, When forced to bid my love farewel O then, my charming Maid! with thee, My heart-my soul-shall fondly dwell, Till, hand in hand, we fondly flee, And bid this inournful scene farewel. Oh, Mary had I but the eagle's wing, I'd mount aloft, upon the whistling wind; Swift as the arrow from the twisted string Cuts through the air, and leaves no track behind, I'd fly into thy arins, and then forget All other idler thoughts, beside thee, love. I'd sweetly kiss thee as when last we met, Nor fear those gentle lips could chide me, love. But ah! 'tis gone! that bright and cheering bea m, Than wraps the heart in purest exstacy, Which all the violence of earthly power "Can never, never break; nor will it shrink, Though Fate may frown and fickle Fortune low'r "Twas the firm compact of eternal love; "Tis registered and sealed in heaven above. But oh, my love! for this I have been blamed, And o'er my fame heard foul aspersions thrown Have they not, Mary, to thyself proclaim'd Crimes that have no foundation, save their own All, patiently, without one murm'ring groan ; And, by his aid, I hope throughout this storm to ride. TRANSLATION FROM HORACE, BOOK III. ODE 9. "Donec gratus eram tibi,” HORACE. "When once within your arms I lay, Belov'd o'er all the rest, I envied not the regal sway LYDIA. "Whilst Lydia yet, adored by thee, No rival Chloë knew, Her fame in vig'rous purity HOLACE. "Now Chloë, skill'd to touch the lyre, To me is dearer far; For her I'd mount the fun'ral pyre, I would not murmer twice to die, HORACE. "Suppose our ancient love renew'd, LYDIA. "Then, tho' he's brighter than the star, Liverpool. [ORIGINAL] Watch ye, the roses of eve are woning; The moon, the chaste moon heralds his reign in, As she wends in beauty her lonely way. So sweet, that each list'ner dreams of his own. Ask ye what language his votaries speak? Mark the glance of that timorous eye; The tremulous blush on that maiden's cheek, Thus she responds to her fond lover's sigh. Hail! all hail to thee peerless Deity ! Thou teachest selfish man to glow With pure ambition, pure from seity, To deck with the laurel a dearer brow. Liverpool, Feb. 14, 1121. C. TITYRUS. [Written for the Kaleidoscope.] HORE OTIOSE. No. VI. Stone walls do not the prison make, Nor iron bars, the cage. "Well! well!" I exclaimed; pretending a careless air, and folding my arms in an easy œauber, as I entered the court of my prison; “I am, at any rate, safe enough now!" "Aye, aye, safe enough now," re-echoed an old turnkey, whose trembling timbs scarcely supported their crazy and almost worn-out superstructure; and, with an air of the greatest satisfaction (caused, I suppose, by having one more prisoner nudes his control) he turned the key in the massive door, with all the dexterity be was master of; and left me, to console myself as ! might think proper. I had formed but a gloomy opinion regarding prison and its inmates, and was consequently rather surprised when a jolly, middle-aged, good-looking kind of fellow, whose cheeks had to all appearance not often been wet by a tear, or his visage length. ened by a sigh, made up to me, and, with all the familiarity of an old acquaintance, asked what new had? what I thought of the Queen? of bis M jesty's ministers? and abundance of other question8. of equal importance; and all this in a manner which left me quite at a loss to determine what sort of s being I had met with. Finding that I was not 10 communicative as he had expected (which I suppose he attributed to melancholy) he bid me cheer up, and consoled me by the assurance that I should soun “get used to their ways;" and ended his oration by introducing me to a fellow prisoner, who was singing, in a melancholy tone, a ditty, of which all that I recollect is placed as a motto to this paper. The round-faced man, 1 found, had been keeper of a tavern, where he had become master of the art of persuading his customers that he was “just of their opinion," and had been so ready to applaud or abas, according to the fancy of his company, that is strongly-formed habit of giving his assent to asy proposition, would not leave him; his versatility of opinion was, however, equaled by his readiness to Lay it down, so soon as he discovered that it did not tally with the principles or prejudices of his hearers and of course he "Was ev'ry thing by turns; and nothing long." The man to whom he introduced me hadi my different appearance; “sharp misery had worke to the bones:" be was absorbed in a melancholy reverie; his hat pulled over his brows; his cost buttoned up to the chin, to conceal the want of vat and waistcoat; his eve steadily fixed upon tile thing; and forcing the song before mentioned from his lips. When my self-elected guardian introduced ime to him, and awakened him from a train f thought, which, if I might be allowed to judge frem Lis appearance and the song by which he was 5deavouring to divert it, was not of the most agreeabl character, he raised his head, and politely greeti au, assumed a cheerful air, and, iu a droli su whimsical manner, begged to introduce me to the secrcts of his prison-house :” “if,” he added, “theatnor the com commodations should not be so good, pany so select as might be wished, yet--" Here my eye caught his, and I immediately recognised one who had been my companion at school; whose 12 lents had been great, but equaled by his want of ap plication; whose life had been one of imprudence, and who, ever ready to amuse his friends, had spent Who this gentleman, that speaks in the first pers may be, I must leave for your readers to determine; certainly cannot allude to myself, who never wii » prison. in a course of dissipation, which had, in short, Drought him to a jail, and his family to the parish. What!" I exclaimed, (for "so fallen, so changed" as he, that I could scarcely believe my eyes) "are ou indeed * * * !” "The very same," he replied, with a laugh," who was formerly so merry and so le, when you and I were schoolboys. Ah, those ajs! but they are gone for ever, and, Like the baseless fabric of a vision, Well! the past can never be recalled!" "But pray," aid 1. what has been your occupation?" (endeaTouring to divert him from the gloomy wildness which was coming over him.) "My life has been a shadow; it has been but why should I recal That which comes with a serpent's sting; and yet, if the erit that men do-live after them,' the remembruce of my follies may serve to scare others from pursuing a gilded bubble! a painted butterfly! Had 1, instead of following a foolish whim but regret is useless." Here he turned round to conceal his ca agitation, and having recovered banself, continued, in an animated strain: "It was my task to give un bounded scope to ‘Imagination's airy wing.' I was ne of the votaries of Thespis; it was mine, to dress tp fiction until it had the very guise and semblance if truth itself; or, rather, until the only difference vas, that fiction had a gilding and a gloss, an enhantment, and a beauty, that truth, if I may judge rom my own experience, is sadly in want of; but ⚫ Othello's occupation's gone,' THE LATE KING OF PRUSSIA. I will not goad the feelings of your readers by re- raised her hands on high, And rolled her eyes in ecstacy, globe, if it so happened. One day when his Majesty was reviewing that regiment, attended by all the fo reign ambassadors and most of the great officers of rank, both in the court and army, he took occasion to ask the French Minister if he thought his master had and would oblige me to listen to a long account (to an equal number of troops in his service able to engage a mother, doubtless, interesting enough) of the those gallant men. The Frenchman, who was a solThe King many virtues of her darling; of his iufantine ac-dier, said, "He believed there were not." tions, caresses, and smiles. pleased with such a reply from a native of the vainest nation in the world, asked the German Ambassador the same question. The German frankly declared his opinion, That he did not believe there was such another regiment in the world." "Well, my Lord Hyndford," said his Majesty to the British Ambassador, "I know you have brave troops in England, but would an equal number of your countrymen beat these, do you think? "I will not take upon me absolutely "but, I dare be to say that," replied Lord Hyndford, bold to say, that half their number would try." Sic ille manus; sic oculos; sic ora ferebat. VIRGIL. The love of a mother is, indeed, of a noble, godlike Which, to be hated, needs but to be seen? fortunate virtue, guilt, madness, and vi lany, to Liverpool, February, 1821. Anecdotes. ORIGINAL ANECDOTE OF LORD BYRON. d I have to play my part ia prison! so you see THE PRINCE OF CONTI. The Prince of Conti being highly pleased with the intrepid behaviour of a grenadier at the siege of Phillipsburgh, in 1734, threw him his purse, excusing the smallness of the sum it contained, as being too poor a reward for his courage. The next morning the grenadier went to the Prince with a couple of diamond rings and other jewels of considerable value, " sir," said he, "the gold I found in your purse, I suppose, your Highness intended for me; but these I bring back to you as having no claim to them," You have, soldier," answered the Prince, "doubly deserved them, by your bravery and by your honesty; therefore, they are yours." 66 Bon Mot. A sporting gentleman passing by a house, not a hundred miles from street, lately observing on the door the separate names of physician and surin mind of a double-barrelled gun, for if one missed, the other was sure to kill. Forn countenance, forsook him, and he cut short his noble friend, endeavoured to divert his mind from iteon, facetiously remarked, that the circumstance put ungenial influence. Among many other brilliant things, is narrative by asking, in the language of Shak Of the rest of my fellow prisoners, many were so MADNESS, that chaos of the brain, Laughing wild amidst severest woe. Here was to 1 One desolate female will not soon be forgotten: heart seemed to be eased by the disclosure of tale of woe, which she would readily impart to one, who would oblige her by listening to its ital. It was indeed a melancholy one, but which When from the heart where sorrow sits, Heed not the gloom that soon shall sink, REPARTEE. A very ignorant nobleman, observing, one day, at dinner, a person, eminent for his philosophical talents, intent on choosing the delicacies of the table, said to him, "What! do philosophers love dainties ?" "Why not?" returned the scholar: "Do you think, my Lord, that the good things of this world were made only for blockheads ?” Whitfield preached eighteen thousand sermons during the thirty-four years of his ministry. The calculation was made from a memorandum-book, in which he noted down the times and places of his preaching. This would be more than ten sermons per week. Wesley tells us himself, (Journal xiii. p. 121,) he preached eight hundred sermons in a year. In fiftythree years reckoning from his return from America; this would amount to forty-two thousand four hundred. -Collier says, Dr. Litchfield, rector of All Saints, Thames-street, London, who died 1647, left three thousand and eighty-three sermons in his own handEccl. His. vol. xi. p. 187.j A gentleman was accustomed to feed a toad regularly, for six and thirty years, and every evening, as soon as the toad saw the candle lighted up, it would come to the table, in order to be lifted up on it, for its supper, consisting of the maggots of the Besh By, (which were its favourite food) and various kinds of insects. These it would follow, and, when within a proper distance, would fix its eye, and remain motion less, for near a quarter of a minute, as if preparing for the stroke, which was an instantaneous darting of its tongue to some distance, upon the insect, which stuck to the tip, by a glutinous matter. This motion of the tongue is quicker than the eye can follow. The toad here mentioned was called the old toad, by this gentleman's father, when the gentlenian first knew it ; and, at last, its death was occasioned by an accident. The toad, therefore, must be a long-lived animal. |