We must stop here, pressed both by time space. It is with feelings of regret that we have thus performed our duty to the public in exposing the waste of time, paper, and printers' ink, consumed in these works. It is with feelings the reverse of aught unfriendly, that we beseech Mr Fairfield to write no more verses. Can it be probable, that he will ever gain fame by it, and is it not squandering what little talent he may possess in a pursuit worse than vain? If there be any thing that he can do of use to himself and society, let him turn himself to that ere it be too late; a poet, we may surely say, without exposing ourselves to a charge of presumptuous prophecy, he will never be, until his intellectual nature be wholly changed. ERRORS OF THE PRESS. In the first column of the article upon Buchanan's Sketches of the North American Indians, in our last number but one, the word "Miltiades" is printed for "Mithridates." We may mention, as an amusing coincidence, that precisely the same mistake occurs on the 66th page of the American edition of Medwin's Conversations of Lord Byron. In that instance, Byron is supposed to be speaking of the individuals, and converts the Athenian commander into the Pontic monarch, by the same error, which, in our review, miscalls Professor Adelung's great work. We would also notice the omission of the proper signature, "J," to "The Gladiator," in the same number. MISCELLANY. ON THE COMMON SYSTEMS OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR. lished variations of the verbs of that lan- tion. Every auxiliary does it in the same Our grammars inform us, that "Mood is A moment's consideration will show any grammarian, that English verbs are not varied to express these varieties of intention and action. The verbs of many other languages are varied but in English, they admit of scarcely any change. To save the trouble of proving this, we request those who are interested in the inquiry, to go through the conjugation of a regular verb, and to mark all the changes which it admits. In naming the second person singular, we recommend that the familiar style be substituted for the solemn, or Quaker style. The only variation which has any claim to be called a mood, is in the termination of the third person singular of the indicative present; where we say, he loveth or loves, instead of love. Let the abettors of the present system make the most of this solitary variation; it will furnish them but an incompetent and ludicrous reason for all their display of the conjugation of the verb through five moods. Now it is certain that the above examples and a great number of others, do not come under the definition of any of the five moods; and yet they are as distinct in their character as important in their signification, and of as frequent occurrence, as those which are included under the common enumeration of moods. If the reader will pursue this inquiry, he will find that the five moods defined in our grammars, do not express half of the various intentions of the mind," and he cannot fail of remarking, that the verb undergoes little or no change in expressing any of them. In the next place, we say, that modes of action are not denoted by the five moods of the verb. I walk, walk, I may walk, if I walk, to walk, express no modes of the action of walking. This is so plainly a matter of fact, that every grammarian must see it. The "modifications and circumstances of action" are commonly expressed by adverbs, or by nouns and prepositions: as I walk fast, I walk with rapidity; he speaks fluently, he speaks with energy; he lives in a very unhappy situation. Our last assertion was, that the changes and modifications of being, intention, and action, supposed to be expressed by either of the five moods, as formed by the common auxiliaries, are frequently expressed by the other moods with equal precision. We might add, that they are still more frequently denoted by other forms of expression, which do not come under the definition of either of the moods. If it were true that the five moods, as formed with the help of auxiliaries, express all "the various intentions of the mind," and all "the various modifications and circumstances of action;" or if they expressed nearly all these circumstances of intention and action, leaving only trifling exceptions; we should then admit that they ought to be Take, for example, the following senretained in treatises on philosophical gram-tence. I think that I shall walk. This is mar. But the more we seek for any ground in the indicative mood; but it is equally in the philosophy of language for this divi- well expressed by the infinitive, I expect sion into moods, the more apparent it will to walk, or I purpose to walk, or I intend be, that no such ground exists. If the reader to walk. So the imperative, walk, is exwill be patient enough to follow us in the in-pressed by the indicative, you shall walk; quiry, we shall endeavour to show that very by the infinitive, I command you to walk; few of the common modes of intention and action are definitely expressed by what are termed the five moods of verbs; and that those modes of intention and action which In a previous number, we promised to either of the several moods of verbs is supresume the subject of moods and tenses. It posed to denote, are very frequently exwas our intention to offer some criticisms pressed by the other moods with equal preon the systems advanced in our grammars, cision. In the first place, let us inquire, encyclopædias, and philosophical treatises; whether the various intentions of the mind but a critical examination of them, which are designated by the several moods of verbs. we made some time ago, afforded so little Take, for example, the verb walk. By which useful information, and so few principles of the moods are the following dispositions which we could esteem as correct, that our of the mind expressed? I desire to walk; I Jabour of reading was followed by a degree expect to walk; I am afraid to walk; I think of disgust which we know not how to over- of walking; I hope to walk. These are par'come; and we feel incapable of repeating ticular affections, dispositions, and intentions the drudgery with any advantage to our of the mind, in relation to the action, signiselves or others. The most, therefore, that fied by the term walk; and they are diswe shall attempt, will be to illustrate and tinctly expressed by the aid of auxiliaries. apply the principle which we formerly In the first example, for instance, the verb stated, that the number of moods and desire is the auxiliary; and why is it not as tenses which should be recognised in the suitable an auxiliary as can or may? It may grammar of any language, is so many as be said, that desire changes the verb to the are expressed by the regular and estab-infinitive mood. But this is a mere decep and by the potential, you must walk instantly. These examples might be multiplied indefinitely. In like manner, I can walk signifies no more nor less than, I have the ability to walk; the verb is the same in both cases; and can it be pretended, that the use of different auxiliaries changes the mood, while the sense and form of the verb remain the same? If so, what is the meaning of mood? We do not see that any thing needs to be added against the common division and definition of English moods; for, if we mistake not, we have analyzed them fairly, and shown, that English verbs have no moods in form, that is, by variations of the verb, and that the ideas and intentions which verbs express, have an almost infinite number of modes, which are not comprehended under the definition of any of the five moods. We shall leave the subject here, till we learn some good reason for resuming it;— reserving our remarks on tenses for another number. W. LETTERS FROM A TRAVELLER. No. VI. MY DEAR FRIENDS, formed us, that we had, by missing the miles further, on the banks of the Tweed, road, past the object of our pursuit. The and near the base of the Eildon hills, stand question which naturally arose in this the ruins of the lordly monastery of St case, was, whether to remain where we Mary; at the sight of which we forgot were, or to retrace our steps in search of alike the mist, the mud, and the pickled On leaving Dr Hope's room, after Middleton; the appearance of the house herrings, and hastened on to obtain a nearhis introductory lecture on Wedneday last, decided us in favour of the latter course, er view of this magnificent object. I was agreeably surprised to hear the mono- and we turned back accordingly. After We employed several hours in examinsyllabic agnomen by which I have been floundering in the mud for about a mile, we ing the remains of the abbey, which are usually designated, pronounced by a voice became sensible, from a sort of splashing worth a voyage across the Atlantic, were from among the crowd of students,-I turn-in our vicinity, that we were passing a mov- there nothing else to be seen in Britain. I ed, and exchanged greetings with B ing object of some kind. It proved to be had never before conceived of the effect who had lately arrived from London. The a man, who advised us not to proceed to produced on the mind by such an immense pleasure I enjoyed at this encounter can the unlucky village which had hitherto pile of picturesque ruins, where all around only be conceived by those who have met, eluded our researches, as it was very doubt- is still as the graves of the mighty, who at an unexpected moment, with a familiar ful whether we could obtain lodgings there. slumber beneath, except from the occaface in a strange land. As the lectures We therefore once more wheeled about, sional cawing of the rooks, that have fixed were, soon after their commencement, to resolved to take up our quarters at the inn their residence about its buttresses and be interrupted by the season of Holy Fair, which we had lately left. Ill fortune, how-spires, and resent the intrusion of strangers we agreed to improve the opportunity for a ever, had not done with us yet. When we into the precincts of their " ancient, solitapedestrian excursion to Melrose, which is reached it the waiter informed us, that, ry reign." "We sat us down on a marble about thirty-five miles to the southward. while we were tramping about after that stone," with the monk of St Mary's aisle In pursuance of this plan we left Edinburgh Will o' the wisp, Middleton, some gentle- and William of Deloraine, and, as far as last Thursday by the way of Salisbury men had arrived and secured all the beds. bodily vigor is concerned, B——— is no bad Crags, and directed our course towards Lib- So we were once more turned adrift in the resemblance of the knight, though the parberton, a village which you will recollect mud, rain, and darkness, to seek for a house allel would scarce hold, in regard to their as the residence of Reuben Butler. The about a mile distant, where there was a respective companions. preceding day had been rainy, the aspect possibility of some accommodation. This of the present one was threatening, and we discovered between six and seven the roads were vilely muddy; but we were o'clock, and were agreeably disappointed not to be discouraged by such trifles as to find it quite a tolerable place, where a mud and rain. Our route, after passing good fire and supper soon consoled us for Libberton kirk, which is about three miles all our disasters-but whether Middleton distant from the city, lay by the Pentland, be an actually existing village, or not, we Braid, and Blackford hills; and our progress are uncertain. was but indifferent for some hours, for B The aspect of the following morning was inauspicious. It rained violently, and there was every prospect of its continuing to do So. a human being, but there were many pic- The pillared arches were over our heads, I do not intend to attempt a particular description of St Mary's Abbey, for many reasons. Suffice it, that we saw the tombs of kings, prelates, and warriors; the wizard's grave, the stone on which "the moon through the east oriel shone;" the sepulchre of Douglas, who fell at Otterburn, &c. &c. Not the least among the beauties of Melrose is the east oriel, or window, itself, with its "Slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliage tracery combined: Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand, "Twixt poplars straight, the osier wand, is a botanist, and was continually arrested Nothwithstanding the experience of the former day, we loitered considerably, and were consequently again benighted, at some distance from our proposed resting place; but, on this occasion, we were less fortunate than before, for our accommodation for the night was very indifferent. four miles, we reached Galashiels, a tol- In many a freakish knot, had twined; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow-wreaths to stone." But as I can neither talk of Melrose without spouting Scott's verses, nor write about it without quoting them, I think it best to leave it for the present, only pausing to copy, for you, the following inscription from an old tomb-stone in the church-yard: "The Earth goeth on the Earth glist'ring like gold; The Earth goes to the Earth sooner than it wold; The Earth builds on the Earth castles and towers; The Earth says to the Earth, All shall be ours;" and to observe, that I should think I had not come to Scotland in vain, were it only for the feelings with which I surveyed these magnificent remains, and those which will forever be associated with Scott's inimita Leaving "St David's ruined pile" about two o'clock, we passed through Newstead, crossed the Tweed by an ancient and beautiful stone bridge, from which we enjoyed some delightful views; cast a lingering look at the abbey, and then pursued our route towards Auld Reekie, along the banks of the Leeder. Just below Melrose, the rivers Ettrick and Yarrow unite with the Tweed, and in the vicinity is the seat of Sir Walter Scott. Further on we entered the district or earldom of Lauderdale, passed near Cowden-knows, and plucked some of the bonny broom, which was then in flower; beyond this was Earlstone, or Ercildoune tower, the birthplace of Thomas the Rhymer, who figures in the "Scottish Chiefs." There were so many beautiful scenes in our route, that we were unable to divest ourselves of our incorrigible habit of loitering, and were, the third time, delivered over to the power of darkness, with its usual and very agreeable concomitants, mud and rain. We reached Lauder, however, in pretty good time, and with as little difficulty as was to have been expected. Lauder is a burgh of barony, the meaning of which designation I do not know. It interested me principally as the place where Archibald Bell-the-Cat hanged Cochran. It is ten miles distant from Melrose, so that we did pretty well this day, having walked seventeen miles, besides standing some hours in and about the abbey. Although this day was Sunday, we could not think of spending twenty-four hours in Lauder, and accordingly departed at nine o'clock. Near the village is Thirlestane castle, the seat of the Earl of Lauderdale, an ancient and odd-looking edifice, built, some five centuries ago, by Edward Longshanks. From thence we proceeded four miles, through rather an uninteresting country, still by the banks of the Leeder, here reduced to a very small stream, to Carfrae Mill. Leaving the Mill, we began to ascend the Lammermoor hills to Channelkirk, and from thence passed over the hills and a dreary, heathy waste, which extended, on each side of the road, as far as the eye could see in misty weather. Eight miles from Lauder brought us to the county of Mid Lothian. Here we began to descend and the country presented a more agreeable aspect, but the weather assumed a very different one. POETRY. THE LAPSE OF TIME. Lament who will, in fruitless tears, But watch the years that hasten by. See how they come, a mingled crowd Of bright and dark, but rapid days;Beneath them, like a summer cloud, The wide world changes as I gaze. What! grieve that time has brought so soon To see the blush of morning gone. With all her promises and smiles? The future!-cruel were the power Whose doom would tear thee from my heart. Thou sweetener of the present hour! We cannot-no-we will not part. Oh, leave me, still, the rapid flight That makes the changing seasons gay, The months that touch with lovelier grace The years that o'er each sister land Shall lift the country of my birth, Upon my head, when I am gray, And all thy pains are quickly past. B. AUTUMNAL HYMN OF THE HUSBANDMAN. The grape in rich clusters hung, promising mirth, And the boughs of the apple-tree slept on the earth. Did we thank thee, then, God of the seasons? Oh no! We were prompt in accepting thy favours, but slow Were our lips to give thanks for the rich gifts, thy hand Showered thick on the maize-littered vales of our land. Thou hast rained on us manna, Lord,-yet we are mute; Though summers all smiles, of thy love are the fruit, Springs and autumns, as fair as the Orient boasts, Dawn on us,-yet faint are our tongues, Lord of Hosts! Now we rest from our toils, Lord, our labours are done, Now we raise our glad voices-in gratitude raise, And we waft on the beams of the morning our praise; We thank thee for golden grain gathered in shock, And the milk of the kine, and the fleece of the flock. Excepting the village of Fala, which is the neatest that I have noticed in Scotland, we observed nothing remarkable for the next nine miles. Here we recrossed the Esk rivers, which are particularly beautiful at this point, and passed through Dalkeith, which is a considerable town. Near it stands Dalkeith castle, the seat of the Duke of Buccleugh, who is said to be the richest nobleman in Scotland. Six miles from Dalkeith, by Duddingstone, brought Our meadows are bared to the kiss of the sun; us to Edinburgh, which we entered exact- We have winnowed the wheat,-well our toil it ly at six o'clock, having walked twenty- repays, five miles in nine hours, including stop-And our oxen have eaten the husks of the maize. pages. The road, during the last fourteen We gathered our harvests; with strength in each or fifteen miles, had been quite good, compared with what we had experienced before, so that we were very slightly fatigued, though pretty well wet, and our garments somewhat the worse for the "samples of the soil," with which they had been adorned, in the various stages of our progress. Farewell. limb to him, And we thank thee for limbs moving light to the task, Toiled the mower, the ripe grass bowed prostrate For hearts beating high, though unwarmed of the flask. Fill us, Lord, with just sense of thy bounty, and give Health to us, and to all in the land where we live. J. And the wheat blade was tall, and the full, golden ear NIGHT.-A POEM. [Continued.] Oh why doth the spirit thus love to roam, Around the orb of the sleeping eye- The bosom on which we were wont to lie, There is something there no power can bind, A prisoner there-which waits the hour, Oh night! thou emblem of death's long sleep, * See Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, vol. I, chapter v, section 5. Yet, ere that day in its joy shall shine, (To be continued.) INTELLIGENCE. HENRY. THE SCHOOL AT NORTHAMPTON. subject, and having with him a son of a which are attendant on public and private education; to collect the means, which should be brought to bear upon a large number of boys, and yet to maintain the exactness and the watchfulness, which may exist in a private family. In the attempt to form the characters of pupils, they endeavour on the one hand to prevent any perverse tendencies, and to correct natural faults; but to leave to individual character a free opportunity of being developed in a natural manner. They value accuracy of knowledge more than variety; and esteem it better to convey a few ideas distinctly, than many in a vague and indefinite manner. In selecting objects of pursuit, they hold it to be the first duty, to cultivate and bring forth all natural capacities, to confirm talents into powers, to give to the individual skill in the management of all which he has received from ProviImmediately on his return, the plan of a dence. Of course they do not seek to make school was proposed and discussed. Many bright scholars of very dull boys, nor to parts of the outline presented gave satisfac-impart, but only to cultivate, faculties. tion. It was no small subject of mutual This first and most important point, the satisfaction to both of these gentlemen, that general improvement of the mind, being nearly the same course of observation settled, they aim at uniting those studies should have led them to nearly the same which are best calculated to unfold the results. As a harmony existed in their powers, and give elegance to taste, and the opinions, they were soon led to take their habits of thought with those which are of measures jointly; and as the situation direct practical utility in the busy world. which they filled at the University, did not There is time enough for both, where eduseem to them to offer the best sphere for cation is begun at an early age; and, sureexertion, they determined to try the ex-ly, a man may be of good thrift in busiperiment of what they could themselves accomplish. WE consider it to be one of our duties to furnish the public with whatever information we can procure, respecting the means of education existing among us. This subject, at all times and every where interesting, is peculiarly so, now and here. It is not of new books only, that we would speak, but of all new things, which have any relation to the discipline and culture of youthful minds. We cannot pretend, nor can it be desired, that we should state opinions so much as facts. Let the public know what means and facilities for education are put into operation, and there is little reason to ness, or patient application in his profession, doubt that a correct judgment will be formeven after having cultivated a general ed of their wisdom and efficiency, and a It was a deep conviction of the imperfect love of knowledge, of intellectual improveright and adequate use made of them. condition of the means of liberal education ment and pleasure. On the subject of Many of our readers must be aware that Mr in our country, which led them to engage classical learning while they are true to the Cogswell and Mr Bancroft, both of whom in this arduous business. They saw that faith which holds the ancients to be our recently held official situations in the Uni- our colleges needed a reform; and as they models in literature, they concede that versity at Cambridge, have opened a school could not accomplish that, they held it a they are not indispensable to those, whose in Northampton, which they profess to con- worthy object to attempt the establishment business will call them to the exchange or duct upon new principles and in a new of a good school. The evils, which most the forum; and, while full testimony is manner. The establishment of this novel justly excite complaint in many of our in-borne to their superiority, and endeavours institution has awakened some interest in stitutions, are well known. A want of in- are made to awaken a love for them, they this vicinity, and, we believe, elsewhere; spection leads the pupil into mischief and do not insist on their being pursued in opit seems to us a circumstance worthy of vice by entrusting him to himself before he position to the wishes of parents and the notice and attention, from its connexion knows how to take care of, or to value, his inclinations of pupils. with the literature of our country; and, not own moral character. Mr Cogswell and Mr doubting that a portion of our readers-to Bancroft established for their first principle, say no more-would thank us for our that the discipline should be of a precautiontrouble, we have enabled ourselves to ac-ary nature; they would not so much punish quaint them with the views and purposes of these gentlemen, and with their rules and processes in the discipline of the school. Several years ago, before Mr Cogswell's residence in Europe, he had been engaged in instruction at Cambridge, and in that situation had a favourable opportunity of becoming acquainted with the condition and character of the principal schools in this section of the country. His thoughts were directed to the subject of education, and, during the years which he spent abroad, he had every opportunity of inspecting the best institutions in Great Britain and on the continent. Mr Bancroft completed his education at European Universities; and it was his particular object, in going thither, to qualify himself as an instructer. During his residence in Germany, he repeatedly received letters, calling his attention to the faults committed, as labour to prevent the In this way they endeavour to connect Considering a knowledge of the modern languages valuable to every body, to the scholar, the merchant, the lawyer, and the man, they at once engaged Mr Hentz, an instructer of established reputation in the French language and literature. He was educated at the University of Paris, and is a scholar, an upright man, and a faithful teacher. They have since written to their friends in Germany for one, who to a thorough knowledge of his own language might add an intimate acquaintance with ancient literature. Through the attention of Heeren, the eminent historian, the friend and formerly the instructer of Mr Bancroft, they have engaged a young man, Dr Bode, already known to the public by a dissertation on the Orphic poetry (one of the most difficult subjects in ancient literature), for which he gained the highest prize of the faculty at Göttingen. He is expected early in the spring, and there is every reason for hoping to find in him an important acquisition. Very recently a master of Spanish, who likewise teaches drawing and book-keeping, has joined the institution, and the important branch of the Spanish language and literature is thus provided for. In whatever branch they can best teach, they are themselves the instructers. In the modern languages, and in some other things, instruction can best be given by men who devote themselves to the branch. Still they hold themselves responsible for every thing. Should their means allow it, they will add to their number an instructer in the language and literature of Italy. in the minds of all around them. bility to the public. They are also favour- Antiochus III, and was made librarian at ed by their situation, as they are enabled Antioch, where he died. Euphorion prinby it to offer boys every reasonable grati- cipally devoted himself to epic poetry, but fication and amusement on their own prem- he also wrote elegies and epigrams. He ises, a circumstance of no small moment. also produced some treatises on grammar They live in the midst of a healthy, moral, and history. He was charged with being and thriving population, and are surround- obscure in his expressions, and with using ed by scenery of great beauty, and of a words in a forced sense. cheerful character. All this has a favourable influence on the forming mind. Our readers may wish to know, particularly, how the day is passed at this school. They rise in winter at six; and, after the deThe administration of the school rests votional exercises of the morning, are busy solely with Mr Cogswell and Mr Bancroft. with teaching and study till eight, at which They are assisted by a gentleman, who, in time all breakfast. They then engage in the present divided state of the town, per- some vigorous exercise till nine, when the forms for them a service on Sunday. De- season for intellectual labor again comtermined to have nothing to do with dis-mences, and continues till noon. Two putes in religion, they wish the religious hours are allowed for exercise, dining, and principle should be strong and efficacious for rest, when, at two, studies are resumed, and continued till four. An hour and In short, they have begun a school, a a half is then employed in the sports and place for the liberal education of boys as- exercises suited to the season. The evesembled in numbers, where they wish to ning meal is over by six, when some time collect the means of teaching all that a boy is passed in attending to declamations, needs to learn. They would have good disci- and then about an hour and a half is given pline, a free, constant, and affectionate in- to study, and the exercises of devotion. The tercourse between masters and pupils; they instructers and pupils spend a few moments would encourage and promote a love of around the fire, and the boys are sent to bed knowledge, and give instructions in the an- at half past eight. In the morning and cient languages, in French, Spanish, Ger- evening religious services they chiefly use man, and if it be desired in the Italian, the excellent prayers of the Episcopal among the modern; in mathematics, the church. The collects and various services outlines of the natural sciences; in geog-furnish a variety of earnest and suitable raphy, history, morals; in reading, writing, petitions. Saturday evening they meet, but composing; in short, in whatsoever it can not for study. At that time exhortations are be thought essential for boys to learn. made to the boys on their studies, and on Their object is, to establish a good school; subjects suggested by the events of the and no more. If they can impart knowl- week. The older boys read the New Tesedge, they are indifferent to names, and tament aloud to the school. On Sunday think the evidence of a diploma, or the dis- the smaller boys read aloud in the Bible. tinction of a degree, would be superfluous. The older ones are engaged with works of There exists nowhere an institution ex- Paley, Porteus, or Mason, books where the actly like this. The gentlemen who con- duties of religion are inculcated without duct it, have borrowed from the most dif- any of the spirit of party. ferent sources; one principle from the schools at Berlin, another from Hofwyl, a third from Edinburgh, a fourth from the books and practice of Niemeyer. With respect to health and morals, and the important branch of physical education, they trust to their observations. Originality is not the distinction they covet; they wish to bring to practical application the principles in education, which have the united testimony of nature, of reason, and of experience. They are aware, that a mere imitation of a foreign model would never succeed, and have endeavoured to adapt all things to our own conntry. There are one or two circumstances which favour them very much. They are responsible only to the public. No tribunal, or board of men, stands between them and the country, whose rising generations they wish to serve; they gladly acknowledge the value of the public opinion, and in general the justice of the public voice; and, while any direct interference on the part of men who might not sufficiently understand their views, would be injurious, nothing but good can be apprehended from a responsi They neither covet, nor shun inspection. A parent is in duty bound to know, in what condition his child is, and these gentlemen have ever been ready to explain to any the principles and practice of the school. The criterion, by which to judge of a good school, must always be the state of the scholars; and it is by this they must be and are willing to be judged. As for health, they have as yet had no sickness; and now, out of forty boys, there is not one who does not enjoy firm health, though many were received in a weak state of body. It will certainly require much time to complete this design, but its form and tendency are already apparent. EUPHORION OF CHALCIS. The life of this poet, and fragments of his works, have been published at Leipsic, by M. Meinecke; who distinguishes him from another Euphorion, of Thrace, author of the Priapeia. Euphorion of Chalcis obtained the right of citizenship at Athens. He was the pupil of Lacydes and Prytanis in philosophy, and of Archebulus in poetry. At the age of fifty, he went to the court of EGYPTIAN SARCOPHAGUS. A sarcophagus has been brought to Marseilles from Alexandria, which is described as being very magnificent. It was found in the burying grounds of Memphis, near the valley of the Pyramids, and was taken, with infinite pains, out of a well sixty feet in depth. The lower part is eight feet long, two and a half high, and three and a half in its greatest breadth. It is covered with a multitude of hieroglyphics, mythological figures, and symbols, admirably executed. This large and splendid antique weighs above six thousand pounds. The lid, the workmanship of which is no less remarkable, is nearly of equal weight. It is of a dark green colour, resembling that of bronze, with spots of a rich dark red. Besides these spots, which are pretty equally distributed, the lower part is marked in three or four places by broad streaks of a bright yellow colour, which extend to the top: these accidents beautifully relieve the deep colour of the ground. It has sustained no damage, except two slight notches on the edge, doubtless made by persons who had formerly attempted to remove the lid, in order to plunder the tomb of its contents. The two parts have been placed on separate carriages, and despatched for Paris. FRENCH WAVERLEY NOVEL. "Jean Perthus, or the Citizen of Paris two hundred and fifty years ago," is an attempt in the manner of the Scotch novels, and gives a good picture of France and Paris at the time of the League. But the author has introduced a Baron de Malteste, who is much too fond of developing his political views, and too superior to those around him. When Sir Walter Scott places a personage of his own creation among historical characters, he takes care not to assign him the first rank. The author, it appears, bas, in manuscript, other novels relative to various periods of French history. GREAT HEAT AT NEW SOUTH WALES. Dr Winterbottom relates, that a particular friend of his, a very careful observer, saw the thermometer rise, in New South Wales, to 112°, and continue so nearly a week. The effects of this heat upon the human body, were extremely distressing, producing extreme languor and incapability of exertion. A gentleman, remarkably robust and active, out of bravado, to show that he could do what not a man in the colony dared to attempt, took his gun, and went out in pursuit of game; but he was very soon obliged to return, and found some difficulty in doing so. The effects of this heat upon animals was such, that the parro |