Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

of opinion on this subject. Every unsophisticated mind views the expression of selfish desires for the approbation of others with displeasure; and conscience and common sense infallibly distinguish it as evil.

Pride relates to the judgment we form of ourselves in comparison with others. The light by which we are blessed by Heaven, enables us to estimate our own qualities justly; but our self-love often opposes and perverts this light,-fills our minds with deceitful imaginations of our superiority over others, and makes us attach to our own qualities a value and dignity which they do not possess. It is because the qualities are ours, and not another's, that selflove thus exalts and deifies them. This false estimate of ourselves, proceeding from self-love, is what is commonly denominated pride.

If your readers will excuse the digression, I will say, that what are commonly called passions, consist not merely of an affection of the mind, but they include the immediate expression of such affection. The expression may sometimes be deceitful, but the only way to determine the moral quality of a passion, is to analyze it, and ascertain what is the affection within it, and from which it proceeds. We may then describe it in synthetical order; and this is the order in which it must afterwards be viewed. Now, Miss Edgeworth and infidel writers do not analyze the passions thoroughly. The distinctions they make between good and evil are external; having reference rather to the immediate expression of an affection, and the ultimate result of actions, than to the affection itself. If it be asked, how we can distinguish good from evil, while viewing the very principles of passions, I answer, that it is by a faculty given by God to every man, and commonly called conscience. Whoever will learn any thing of metaphysics which will be practically useful, must acquire the habit of looking within himself, and tracing his passions to their principles, and of noticing the influence which his affections have upon his thoughts and decisions; and whoever will communicate metaphysical knowledge, should view his subject from its essence to the form, and not inversely.

To return the meaning which I have given to the terms vanity and pride, is what I believe them to have in common language. When, therefore, Miss Edgeworth asks:"If we could give our pupils exactly the character we wish, what degrees of vanity and pride should we desire them to have?" the plain answer is, None at all. What she denominates vanity and pride, generally proceed from selfish principles, although they may proceed from something better; and she is answerable for the equivocal use of the terms. More reverence for the language of Scripture, and more regard for religion itself, would have made her avoid this confusion.

"As to ambition," she remarks, "we must decide what species of ambition we mean, before we can determine whether it ought to be encouraged or repressed;

whether it should be classed amongst virtues or vices; that is to say, whether it adds to the happiness or misery of human creatures."

Nothing is gained by such quibbling about the meaning of common language; but let this pass. A more formidable objection to the passage, is, that she makes that to be virtue which "adds to the happiness;" and that to be vice which "adds to the misery of human creatures;" without giving us any standard for determining the ultimate effect of our various passions and sentiments. The christian standard is, that what proceeds from love to the Lord, and charity towards our neighbour, and is regulated by truth in its application to life, is essentially right, is judicious, and will produce ultimate happiness. The remark we have already made, is illustrated here: Miss Edgeworth does not refer to the principles from which passions proceed, but judges of their character from their effects. No man is competent at all times to do this justly. He is much better able to look within,-to consult his conscience, and to ask counsel of his Bible.

There are a few other passages in the work, of the same eharacter with those upon which I have last remarked; but, in general, the external form of its morals, like that of the other works of this author, is very pure, and not unfrequently distinguished by uncommon beauty. The defect is, and it is not a small one, the moral principles want a soul. They recommend right actions; but the motives from which these are to proceed, are generally incompetent to produce them, and are always destitute of that vitality, that reference to God and futurity, which is necessary to make the actions good in any other than a worldly, selfish view. It is not a little surprising, that, with an education in a christian community, the language of Scripture and of christian writers should have made so little impression on her mind, that she could almost entirely divest herself of every thing that would lead the reader to infer that she had any knowledge of them. I see no reason for ascribing this to a love of any system, which she has formed to herself. There is nothing of the originality of a system-maker; and, indeed, there are few works which have less claims to original ideas. In this respect, it seems to me that Miss Edgeworth has been misjudged. She has a wonderful faculty of selecting the ideas of such writers as Voltaire, Rousseau, Helvetius, Darwin, Adam Smith, and Hume; and some affinity of soul with Franklin and Priestley. Most of her references are to infidel authors; and nearly all her metaphysical notions are derived from them. Whoever has had much acquaintance with these, can have no difficulty in tracing the origin of her principles. It must not, however, be inferred that she directly recommends the writings of these authors.

Your readers may perhaps expect me to concede to Mr Edgeworth the merit of much originality in his chapters on the proper mode of teaching some of the sciences. I know not but he deserves it; but this I know, that nearly all the principles and modes of

instruction which he has proposed, that have any claim to novelty, may be found in the works of Pestalozzi and his followers. They are unquestionably very important, and it is well for the world that they are beginning to be thought so.

Miss Edgeworth's talent for arranging the ideas which she collects, and presenting them in a lucid and beautiful dress, is remarkably perfect; and the external charms of her moral principles combine to produce a very powerful effect on the mind of the reader. It may be asked, how these eminent qualities can be accounted for, without supposing that they proceed from a genuine love of purity and order. There is certainly no greater difficulty in accounting for these than for the beautiful writings of professed infidels. It is not unknown, that "the children of this world are, in their generation, wiser than the children of light." Their minds are less divided. Their thoughts and affections are limited to the present world; and it would be strange indeed, if they did not frequently become adepts in their several modes of life. Who can hoard money like a Jew, or adorn the natural passions like an infidel? It becomes those who live only for the present world, to make the best of it; and why should it surprise us, that they learn the arts of self-gratification, and can imitate the order and beauty which would result from bringing even heavenly principles into actual life. All that is necessary is consistency of character; and who was ever more consistent, assiduous, and faithful to any purpose, than Miss Edgeworth has been in endeavouring to make a life devoted solely to the present world, comfortable and respectable? S.

ON THE COMMON SYSTEMS OF ENGLISH
GRAMMAR.
No. III.

THERE is nothing in our common grammars which defines the true nature and use of the adjective. In some works we read of substantive nouns and adjective nouns. This is very well. What we denominate adjectives, are only a particular class of nouns, used in connexion with other nouns. Some of them are very frequently used indiscriminately as nouns or adjectives. Others suffer some change of form, when used as adjectives, in order to make them more readily distinguishable; but, in all cases, they should be regarded as a class of nouns, used to express the qualities of other nouns.

When Mr Murray tells us, that “an adjective put without a substantive, with the definite article before it, becomes a substantive in sense and meaning, and is written as a substantive; as, Providence rewards the good, and punishes the bad;" in this case, we can only say, that he talks nonsense. It is proper to speak of substantives being used as adjectives, for this obvious means, that they are used to express the quality of other substantives; but we cannot with propriety say, that an adjective is used as a substantive, because there is no distinct class of words to which the term adjective properly

284

applies. Even those adjective nouns which are used only as such, always imply an idea of a substantive noun, and merely express that idea under some peculiar modification. Besides, the principle given above from Mr Murray, does not involve all the cases in which even the terms "good" and "bad" are used as substantive nouns. When we say, "This journey did him much good," we use the term good without the definite article, but still as a substantive noun. The term "bad" cannot be thus used; but its substitutes, evil and ill, are frequently used in this manner.

Many of the words which we call prepositions are adjectives. Most of these express the quality or condition of one noun as it relates to another noun. The words above, under, over, near, and many others, are of this class. If I say, "A man of integrity is above doing a mean action;" the word "above" expresses the quality of the man in relation to doing a mean action; he is above it. A thousand examples might be multiplied, with this and other prepositions, to show that they really retain the nature of adjectives.

We deem these last remarks important, as they may lead the scholar to a just view of the nature of many terms which are commonly parsed without any analysis of their meaning. But our particular object was to prepare the way for explaining how those tormentors of grammarians, like, worth, and as, should be parsed. The first and second of these not only express the quality of nouns in relation to other nouns, but they express something of the abstract, essential quality of nouns; and this circumstance has made them so puzzling. When we say, "The horse is worth ten dollars," the term worth conveys some idea of the essential quality of the horse, and also its quality relative to, or compared with, ten dollars. Again: "He looks like a prince;" "Glass is like ice." In these and similar cases, it is obvious, that the term like is to be parsed as an adjective and a preposition, and is to be explained in the manner we have been stating. The term as, when used in sentences like the following: "I esteem him as a friend," really expresses the quality of "him," by placing "him" and "friend" in apposition. It is frequently used somewhat differently; but it always, I believe, places two words of some class in apposition, or on an equality, more or less exact. The scholar should point out what words it thus qualifies, and he may call it what he pleases, as reasons for terming it an adjective, a pronoun, an adverb, a preposition, and a conjunction, are pretty nearly equal.

LETTERS FROM A TRAVELLER.
No. IV.

Edinburgh, September 28.

MY DEAR FRIENDS,
"Up rose the sun, and uprose"-the
party at Aberfoyle Inn, on the morning
after the events commemorated in my
last despatch. We inscribed our names in

the Album, and, under the guidance of a
Mc Farlane, set forward for the Trosachs.
The variations in the aspect of the sky are
among the most remarkable circumstances
that I have had occasion to remark since I
left Glasgow. The beauty of the morning
equals that of an October day in New Eng-
land; while the aspect of the afternoon bears
a striking resemblance to that of one of our
south-easterly storms. In the course of our
walk, which was over hills, and through
bogs, I had many occasions for congratulat-
ing myself, that I had relinquished my at-
tempt the preceding evening. We reached
the change house of Stewart of Alpine (a
paltry place, by the way) in very good time
for breakfast; after the discussion of which
important concern, we proceeded through
the Trosach to Loch Katrine. The Tro-
sach is a pass between the mountains, which
surround the lake, and bears a great resem-
blance to the Gulf in the Green Mountains
of Vermont; the likeness is a miniature one,
to be sure, but perhaps is more beautiful
from that circumstance. Through this pass,

Like billow with his crest of foam,

Right onward did Clan Alpine come.

ponds, which, for any thing that I could ever
learn, would compete in point of difficulties
with any Loch in Scotland. But I content.
ed myself with pitying the narrowness of
their understandings; and saved my breath
for better occasions. We landed at the little
creek where Ellen's shallop was moored,
this being the only place where one can
Just by it juts out an
conveniently do so.
old rugged oak, the former shelter of "Dun-
craggan's widowed dame." From the height
of the island, we had a fine view; behind us
was Coir-nan-Uriskin, the Goblin's cave;
before us, the place where Fitz-James first
came in sight of the lake and island. Far-
ther up was the point of interview, where
Roderick discovered himself to Fitz-James,
&c. &c. I detail these matters to you as I
received them from our guide, who, as the
manner is with these people through the
whole British empire, at least so far as my
information or experience goes, had drilled
himself to the repetition of a sort of parrot
story, talked of Fitz-James and Ellen, and
quoted Scott, without attaching any very

distinct idea either to the names or the poetry. This island has, in more modern and less romantic days, served as a retreat We passed through it, at a moderate pace, for whiskey-distillers and smugglers. Alter and over a very good road, and at its termi- a reasonable time spent in surveying the nation found ourselves on the shore of the prospect, I was set ashore by my ManchesLoch. Here we were surrounded with old ter friends, on the beach opposite the landacquaintance; Ben-An, Ben-Voirlich, Ben- ing. We exchanged addresses, and parted, Venue, and Ben-Ledi, the whole tribe of I flatter myself, with mutual regret. They Benjamin, as somebody calls them, reared proceeded up the lake towards Tarbet, and their shingly cliffs and craggy summits left me to pursue my route for Callander. around us. Having heard the guide observe, that the road by which we came through the Trosachs was not the ancient one, I inquired into the matter, and was informed, that the old path was circuitous and mountainous,

Poetic scenes encompassed us around,

And still we seemed to tread on classic ground;
For here so oft the muse her harp has strung,
That not a mountain rears his head unsung.

We embarked for Roderick's island in a
skiff, which was as like that of Ellen Doug-
las' as a bum-boat is like a captain's gig.
Really these boats are horrid to romantic
eyes; I gave the boatmen my poor thoughts
respecting the matter, suggesting the pro-
priety of a clean clinker-built cutter, with
a light oar for sculling, in the place of the
anomalous machine, which they had the mis-
fortune to propel among scenes with which
it was so little in keeping; but "oh ! cæca
mens hominum!" they had the impudence to
insinuate in return for my endeavours to re-
fine their ideas, that I knew nothing about

lake navigation. By the trident of Neptune
and the scallop-shell coach of his wife, my
dear friends, I was struck dumb. A Yankee
not understand navigation, whether it be of
ocean, bay, creek, river, lake, or mill-pond.
Truly I had half a mind to explain to the
Highland savages the extent of their igno-
rance and presumption, by giving them to
know that the natives of New England, from
the first-born of them, who saw the light on
board the May-flower, two hundred years
ago, down to the urchins who fish for tom-
cod in Boston harbor, have an instinctive
admiration and delight in, and a very tolera-
ble insight into, the mysteries of all water-
craft, of whatever name or nature; and that
I, even I myself, simple as I stood there, had
rowed, sailed, and sculled, and paddled in

impassable by any wheel-carriage, but it might, he added, be passable by foot passengers. Upon the faith of this "might be,"

and with the temptation which the idea of a difficult path holds out to a pedestrian in search of adventures, and armed at all points against the elements, I undertook it, and found it sufficient to satisfy the expectations of any adventurer, whose ambition does not go the length of perilling life or limb. I waded through mosses and bogs, fought through heather and fern, and hopped from stone to stone, down the course of brooks. That Fitz-James should have lost his "gallant gray" in such a place, was matter of no surprise to me, as I passed the spot where I suppose the event to have hap pened. No horse of these degenerate days could have got there at all. About this time the usual rain-storm began to threaten, but did not commence till I had reached terra firma again, and very fortunately for me, as I could ill have spared a hand to hold an open umbrella, inasmuch as all four extremities generally found full employment in these "haunts of the gor-cock and the deer." The stillness which reigns in these Highland deserts is very remarkable. In the wildest and most barren places in New England, at least so far as my knowledge extends, one always hears some sound; even in the calmest weather, the trees and bushes

of all this. I almost looked to see

From shingles gray the lances start,
The bracken bush send forth the dart.

285

make a slight murmur, or some animal or the inn were not of the first order, but after | miles, was very beautiful, but I recollect no bird rustles among the dry leaves; but here walking five and twenty miles, one is not object of any great importance. Here I the silence is frequently deathlike, the ferns apt to be critical about such matters. Just crossed the Carron river, and after two and heaths are too low to be affected by a beyond the village are the ruins of Doune miles more, passed under the grand canal, light wind, and there are very few trees, castle, which is not now in quite so good which connects the Forth and Clyde, and and those small and stunted. This produces repair as it was when king James sallied entered Falkirk early in the afternoon; something of the same effect on the mind as from it on the morning of the "chase." It this is a very antique looking town, but unthe stillness of night; the excitability of the affords at present a residence for beings of fortunately I was precluded by certain consense of hearing, to speak after the manner a more aerial nature, not ghosts or sprites, sequences of a new pair of shoes, from goof the Brunonians, is accumulated; the sound at least as far as I know, but crows, a sort ing about it, or proceeding farther on my of one's own footsteps, the rattling of a stone, of gentry, who, with a taste like that of walk, which was the more troublesome, as which you have accidentally displaced and Sultan Mahmoud's owls, have appropriated this proved to be the first day since I left rolled down a declivity, or any noise, how-to themselves the ruined towers and clois- Glasgow, which was throughout clear and ever slight, strikes it unpleasantly. One ters in this country, wherever they could serene. The following morning, as if to walks or stands, in such circumstances, "ar- find them; they are termed rooks here, and make up for so much extra fair weather, rectis auribus," and with a sort of feeling of I beg their pardon and yours, for calling was as dull, misty, and muggy as one would expectation that something is about to come them by such an every-day appellation as wish to see; and as my walking gear was still that of crow; but notwithstanding all my out of order, I had the alternative of taking endeavours at the romantic and poetical, the coach for the remaining distance to Edthe original sin of giving things their right|inburgh, or spending the day in a gloomy But nothing was to be seen more lively than names will now and then get the ascendan- inn, which last being little less than a chal"brackens green and cold gray stone," and cy. From the castle I took my departure, lenge to the blue devils, was rather too great without further adventure, I arrived again with Waverley and Balmaw happle, for Stir- a hazard; and I departed accordingly. Eight in safety at Stewart's. Here I saw, for the ling, a distance of nine miles. It is almost miles from Falkirk, we passed through Linfirst time in my life, a British nobleman; unnecessary to mention that the morning lith-gow, where is the cathedral in which not a sprig of Scotch quality, but a real was beautiful; about four miles from Doune the apparition appeared to king James, beEnglish marquiss, with a travelling tutor; I crossed the Teath, by the bridge of Allan, fore the battle of Flodden, and reached Auld by which sight, as you may well imagine, my and soon came in sight of the object of my Reekie about one o'clock. Notwithstanding plebeian eyes were wonderfully refreshed. destination, which, from its elevated situa- the disadvantage of a stormy day, I was at From Stewart's I marched stoutly along the tion, is visible for some distance. As I drew once fully satisfied that this was the most banks of Lochs Achray and Vennachar, two near, I enjoyed the view of one of the most beautiful city I had ever seen, and I have had beautiful sheets of water; passed Lanrick beautiful scenes in Scotland. The road is no reason since to alter that opinion. We mead, the Brigg of Turk and Glenfinlass, considerably above the level of the carse, or, entered it by the way of Prince's street, and and about three o'clock, reached Coilan- as we should call it, intervale, and one can as the coach was driven along this magnifitogle ford, which is now crossed by means see its whole extent, with the Forth, which cent avenue, the crowds of human creatures of a stone-bridge; just beyond is Callander, we left at Aberfoyle, now swelled to a re- which thronged it, reminded me of the workwhere, being "far past Clan Alpine's ut- spectable size, winding through it. This ing and fighting pismires of Africa, traversing most guard," I paused for a while, to re- carse is a process, if I may be allowed to the galleries of their wonderful structures. cover a little from the effects of the rain, be professional, of the lowlands, extending The coach on which I was perched seemed which had accompanied me during the lat- like a wedge, between the hills on each like a baby-house toy, drawn by a team of ter part of the way. This was the first vil-side, and from about the middle of it the little atomies; and when I was set down at lage I had seen since I left Leven; it is last with my bundle and umbrella, in my quite a considerable one for the situation, travelling dress, without a single acquaintand contains a thousand inhabitants. Here ance, or letter of introduction,-for I had I entered again upon the Low Country, and left them with my baggage at Glasgow,-I directed my course towards Doune, which felt in its full force the "solitude of a crowd," was distant eight miles. The evening soon and with Will Marvel, I "cannot deny, became so dark and misty, that little of the that I did for some time suffer melancholy country could be seen. About four miles to prevail upon me, and wish myself safe at from Callander, I overtook another pedeshome." Luckily I happened to have that in trian, and walked along with him the remy pockets which the people were disposed mainder of the way. He was a native of to recognise as an acquaintance, and which Stirling, and spoke the abominable patois And spirited the troops to-run. introduced me to very tolerable acmmodaof that shire. He afforded me much amuse- Crossing the Forth by a stone bridge, I en- tions. Still I was alone, and unwilling, on ment by his abuse of the Highlands, where, tered Stirling. The town presented noth- account of the appearance of my external he informed me, he had sometimes been, and ing remarkable; it looked pleasant enough man, to perambulate the streets of a city; where the people could jabber nothing but in the sunshine. If I had had a companion, I so that I had every prospect of spending the Gaelic, and eat barley-bannocks without a should have staid some time here, examined time between my own arrival and that of grain of white-bread, meaning thereby oat- the fortress, &c., and I dare say, it will seem my baggage, in a manner which none of cakes, which are about equal in quality and strange to you that I did not; but if any you will envy. My first step, in these cirflavour to our Indian hoe-cakes. Just before one of you should ever happen to walk two or cumstances, was to despatch a requisition entering Doune, we passed the seat of Sir three days in succession, through a strange for the aforesaid baggage, the second, only John Murray, the present chief of the Mc country alone, you will wonder less; one's one of you will probably be able to conjecGregor clan. You may perhaps recollect enthusiasm is very apt to cool, unless he has ture, Talone will know it by intuition. to have seen in a child's book, called the some friend to participate in his pleasures The only alternative in such cases, as he is Chapter of Accidents, the picture and ac- and troubles; certainly my zeal for moun- well aware, is the Circulating Library; an count of a tiger rushing upon Monro, and tains, floods, and antiquities, was on the invention which takes rank with that of the wounding him mortally. This Sir John wane; so I remained here but a few hours, steam-engine or the printing press; thither Murray, as my companion informed me, and then set forward for Falkirk, about a I repaired, and arming myself with Scott's was then present, and slew the tiger, whose mile from Stirling passed the ruins of Cam- last novel, set the azure demons at defiance. head now hangs in his hall. We reached bus-Kenneth Abbey, and one and a half I have thus given you an account of my Doune about seven o'clock, in a dark and further crossed Bannock-burn, near the field journey from Glasgow, and you will perhaps drizzly evening. The accommodations of of battle. The country, for the next six think that I have made the most of it; and

eminence on which Stirling is built, arises
gradually, and terminates in a precipitous
bluff, something like a headland which has
been worn by the waves; on the brow of
this stands the castle, while the town is on
the acclivity, which leads to it. It was on
this carse that Mr Jinker's steeds had occa-
sion to show their mettle, when their com-
mander, like another British leader, on a
later occasion, and in a scene nearer home,

so bravely led them on,

like Marvel again, have endeavoured to | The aspiring lark up from the reedy river

make a story of what, if told in proper terms, would be only that the roads were sometimes rough and sometimes dirty, and that the weather "presented the usual vicissitude of rain and sunshine." Farewell.

POETRY.

THE MURDERED TRAVELLER.

When Spring, to woods and wastes around,
Brought bloom and joy again;

The murdered traveller's bones were found,
Far down a narrow glen.

The fragrant birch, above him, hung
Her tassels in the sky;
And many a vernal blossom sprung,
And nodded, careless, by.

The red-bird warbled, as he wrought
His hanging nest o'erhead,
And fearless, near the fatal spot,
Her young the partridge led.

But there was weeping far away,
And gentle eyes, for him,
With watching many an anxious day,
Grew sorrowful and dim.

They little knew, who loved him so,
The fearful death he met,
When shouting o'er the desert snow,
Unarmed, and hard beset.

Nor how, when round the frosty pole
The northern dawn was red,
The mountain wolf and wild-cat stole
To banquet on the dead.

Nor how, when strangers found his bones,
They dressed the hasty bier,

And marked his grave with nameless stones,
Unmoistened by a tear.

But long they looked, and feared, and wept,
Within his distant home;

And dreamed, and started as they slept,
For joy that he was come.

[blocks in formation]

Mounted, on cheerful pinion; and she sat
And marking how they sunk ;-and oft she sighed
Casting smooth pebbles into a clear fountain,
For him that perished thus in the vast deep.
She had a sea-shell, that her lover brought
From the far distant ocean, and she pressed
Its smooth cold lips unto her ear, and thought
It whispered tidings of the dark blue sea;
And sad, she cried, "The tides are out!-and now
I see his corse upon the stormy beach!"
Around her neck a string of rose-lipped shells,
And coral, and white pearl, was loosely hung,
And close beside her lay a delicate fan,
Made of the halcyon's blue wing; and when
She looked upon it, it would calm her thoughts
As that bird calms the ocean,-for it
gave
Mournful, yet pleasant memory. Once I marked,
When through the mountain hollows and green
woods,

That steals from our own thoughts, and softly rests
On youth's green vallies and smooth-sliding waters.
Alas! few suns of life, and fewer winds,
Had withered or had wasted the fresh rose
That bloomed upon her cheek; but one chill frost
Came in that early Autumn, when ripe thought
Is rich and beautiful,—and blighted it;
And the fair stalk grew languid day by day,
And drooped, and drooped, and shed its many

leaves.

'Tis said that some have died of love, and some,

That once from beauty's high romance had caught
Love's passionate feelings and heart-wasting cares,
Have spurned life's threshold with a desperate
foot:

And others have gone mad,-and she was one!—
Her lover died at sea; and they had felt
A coldness for each other when they parted;
But love returned again, and to her ear
Came tidings, that the ship which bore her lover
Had sullenly gone down at sea, and all were lost.
I saw her in her native vale, when high

That bent beneath its footsteps, the loud wind
Came with a voice as of the restless deep,
She raised her head, and on her pale cold cheek
A beauty of diviner seeming came:
And then she spread her hands, and smiled, as if
She welcomed a long absent friend,--and then
Shrunk timorously back again, and wept.

I turned away: a multitude of thoughts,
Mournful and dark, were crowding on my mind
And as I left that lost and ruined one,
A living monument that still on earth
There is warm love and deep sincerity,-
She gazed upon the west, where the bine sky
Held, like an ocean, in its wide embrace
Those fairy islands of bright cloud, that lay
So calm and quietly in the thin ether.
And then she pointed where, alone and high,
One little cloud sailed onward, like a lost
And wandering bark, and fainter grew, and fainter,
And soon was swallowed up in the blue depths.
And when it sunk away, she turned again
With sad despondency and tears to earth.

which have given rise to this undue degree of vividness. "It is therefore chiefly for the purpose of explaining such laws, that the present dissertation is written. But I here enter into a perfectly new field of research, where far greater difficulties are to be encountered than I anticipated. The extent of them can indeed be only estimated by the metaphysician." The laws which govern the vividness of our feelings, Dr Hibbert explains in the various transitions which the mind undergoes; 1st. From perfect sleep to the common state of watchfulness; 2d. From the ordinary tranquil state of watchfulness to that condition of extreme mental excitement which is conceived to be necessary for the production of spectral illusions; 3d. From perfect and imperfect sleep to dreams and somnambulism. These laws meet with very striking illustrations; which, the author adds, "are not more numerous than the treatise requires, as my object is, not only to render the principles which I have inculcated, as intelligible as possible, but to direct the attention of the reader, less to the vulgar absurdities which are blended with ghost stories, than to the important philosophical inferences, which are frequently to be deduced from them. The subject of apparitions has, indeed, for centuries, occupied the attention of the learned; but seldom without reference to superstitious speculations. It is time, however, that these illusions should be viewed in a perfectly different light; for, if the conclu

Three long and weary months,-yet not a whispersions to which I have arrived, be correct,

Of stern reproach for that cold parting! Then
She sat no longer by her favourite fountain!-
She was at rest forever.

INTELLIGENCE.

H. W. L.

PHILOSOPHY OF APPARITIONS.

A popular and very interesting work has been lately published by Dr Hibbert, entitled "Sketches of the Philosophy of Apparitions." The general plan of the work may be best described in the words of the author himself.

"In the first place," he observes, "a general view is given of the particular morbid affections, with which the production of phantasms is often connected. Apparitions are likewise considered as nothing more than ideas, or the recollected images of the mind, which have been rendered more vivid than actual impressions." In a second part of this work he says, "My object has been to point out, that in well authenticated ghost-stories, of a supposed supernatural character,-the ideas which are rendered so unduly intense as to induce spectral illusions, may be traced to such fantastical objects of prior belief as are incorporated in the various systems of superstition, which for ages have possessed the minds of the vulgar." In the succeeding, and by far the most considerable part of this treatise, the research is of a novel kind. Since apparitions are ideas equalling or exceeding in vividness actual impressions, there ought to be some important and definite laws of the mind

they are calculated, more than almost any other class of mental phenomena, to throw considerable light upon certain important laws connected with the physiology of the human mind."

OCCASIONAL ABUNDANCE AND SUPPOSED MI-
GRATION OF FIELD-MICE.

Feld-mice appeared in extraordinary numbers in Morvern (Scotland) about the year 1809 or 1810. They were first observed in the month of August, and disappeared during the ensuing winter. They were most numerous in the north, on Loch Sunart side of Morvern, where the country is wildest and most rugged, and where there is least arable land. On the coast of the sound of Mull, their numbers were comparatively trifling. They also infested the districts of Sunart, Arduamurchan, Moidart, Arisaig, and Ardgour. In Morvern, during the months of August and September, any spot of fine pasture in the bills was cut in roads, close to the ground. The grass, cut by the root, lay withered. Bushes were also cut by the root in the same way, and the white interior substance gathered into heaps for nests. About the end of October and beginning of November, in woods and low grounds preserved for winter grazing, the grass was found cut the same way as in the hills. The bark of young wood was frequently gnawed off, and the ground perforated to such a degree, in making their subterraneous residences, that it often yielded to the foot in walking. These subterraneous residences,

Months.
January
February
March.
April.
May

June

July
August
September
October
November
December

1117

1139

1145

1151

1157

1164

1163

1152

1128

1101

1099

**The proprietors of Newspapers, for which this Gazette is exchanged, and of which the price is less than that of the Gazette, are expected to pay the difference. C. H. & Co.

ADVERTISEMENTS.

CUMMINGS, HILLIARD, & CO. PROPOSE publishing a Collection of American Poetry, under the title of

ANTHOLOGIA AMERICANA,

OR SELECTIONS FROM THE WORKS OF

AMERICAN POETS.

The extracts which have been prepared for this publication, will make three or four volumes, crown octavo; and they will comprise such portions of the works of our writers, as will present a fair specimen of the actual poetical talent of our country. The degrees of merit will, of course, be various; but it is the Editor's intention to admit only such articles as shall have some claim to a place in the collection, either on account of their own intrinsic merit, or of fore held in the public estimation.

it is supposed, were intended for winter ham made his experiments with two guns, to forward to us, regularly and seasonably, quarters. It was observed that the nests of at the distances of 29,547 feet and 13,923.3 the names of all works of every kind, prethe mice, above and below ground, all com- feet. They were twenty-four pounders, paring for publication, in the press, or municated with each other by an amazing charged with eight pounds of powder, and recently published. As they will be innumber of these cross roads, formed by cut- the experiments were continued during the serted in the Gazette, it is particularly ting the grass close to the ground; and latter part of 1820, and the whole of 1821. desired that the exact titles be stated at every nest was invariably connected, by The following table contains the substance length. means of these roads, with some place of these numerous and well conducted exwhere there was water. In Morvern, and, periments; and it is curious to remark, how it is believed, in every quarter which the the velocity gradually increases towards the mice infested, they were most numerous in middle of the year, and again gradually those farms where there is least crop; and diminishes. Mr Goldingham conceives that upon the whole, they destroyed much less this regularity would be still greater, with crop than grass. This did not proceed from the mean of several years' observations. a want of relish for corn diet; for, in one Velocity of sound in farm in Morvern, where there is very little a second, in feet. 1101 arable ground, the crop was completely destroyed. Even every square foot of the roof of the barn was perforated; and a great many of the stobs (sharp-pointed rods for fastening the thatch) nearly cut through. It has been observed that mice are more numerous during wet than dry seasons. During the winter of the year in which they were numerous beyond all others, a long continued and severe frost took place, and they then disappeared. It is supposed Mr Goldingham has also recorded the they perished for want of food or water. state of the barometer, thermometer, and All opinions regarding the amount of dam-hygrometer, at the times of his observations. age done by these mice, to the pastures, are He concludes, that for each degree of the mere conjectures, but it must have been thermometer, 1.2 feet may be allowed in the very considerable. In one tenement at velocity of sound for a second; for each deMoidart, having a stock of two thousand gree of the hygrometer, 1.4 feet; and for sheep, it was estimated as equal to that of 0.1 of an inch of the barometer, 9.2 feet. three hundred sheep of an overstock. In He concludes, that ten feet per second is Ardgour, on the grounds around Colonel the difference between the velocity of Maclean's residence, the mice destroyed an sound in a calm and in a moderate breeze; immense number of fir plants, and other and 214 feet in a second, or 1275 in a minyoung trees, by eating away the bark a lit- ute, is the difference, as the wind is in the tle above the root. So bent were they here direction of the motion of sound, or opposon mischief, that old women, with cats, were ed to it. stationed at different points, in huts, through the plantations; at least it is generally reported that such was the case. It is not likely that these establishments could give any effectual check to their depredations. It is not probable that there was any thing like an invasion of this country by the mice at the time they were so uncommonly numerous. It is more probable, that there was something in the season peculiarly favourable to their increase. There is always a considerable number of field-mice in the woods, where they live by hoarding up, under ground, great quantities of hazelnuts; and in soft, moist ground, where there is long, rank grass, or where the ground is coated with moss or fog, many of their nests and roads may be found under cover of the moss or grass. No facts occurred that would lead one to suppose that they migrate from one district of country to another.

VELOCITY OF SOUND.

A valuable and elaborate series of experiments on the velocity of sound, has been made at Madras, by Mr Goldingham. Various different measures of the velocity of sound, had been obtained by different observers, but the discrepancies in their observations were not supposed to arise from the condition of the atmosphere. Mr Golding

JOURNAL INUTILE.

A French Journal has just been set up at New York, under this singular, but rather attractive title. It is published every Thursday, in a pamphlet of about twenty pages, and has now reached its third number. The editor proposes to pass "from grave to gay;" to deal in politics, literature, foreign intelligence, especially news from his own France; and to have a hand in all the pleasant topics of the day. One of his most inviting promises is, to tell his readers so much of what is doing in Paris, that they will almost forget the distance that separates them from that capital of taste and the arts.

It is really surprising, that in a city like
New York, which so swarms with foreign-
ers, where there is at least one church at
which the service is performed in the French
language, and where that language is so gen-
erally understood, a plan of this kind should
not have been sooner thought of.

and cannot fail of becoming popular, if the
The present attempt is very creditable,
editor's skill in choosing and managing his
subjects proves equal to his style of writing.

A Lover of French Literature.

All publishers of books throughout the
United States, are very earnestly requested

the rank which their authors have hereto

The little volume lately published in the American Poets," was (to say nothing of London, under the title of "Specimens of the merit of some of the articles selected) too limited to meet the wishes of those readers who take an interest in this subject; and the specimens were too few in number to answer the purposes of such a work.

played by some of our native poets, the From the marks of genius which are diseditor has been led to believe (perhaps not uninfluenced by partiality for his native country) that there are quite as strong and decisive indications of a national taste for poetical composition, as is acknowledged in the sister art of painting; in which our could not have been expected at this early country has already attained a rank that epoch.

It is the intention of the Editor that the work shall be accompanied with a General Introduction, partly of a critical, and partly of an historical nature. The plan has been communicated to several authors, who have, without exception, expressed their consent and approbation in the most flattering terms; and the Editor now feels no haz

those from whom he has not yet had opporard in anticipating the same liberality in tunity to obtain an answer, The Editor considers it unnecessary to be more particular on the present occasion; such other information as may be requisite, will be given in a Prospectus of the work at a future day.

« AnteriorContinuar »