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English Opium-Eater. Sometimes there seems, sir, to be a simplicity of love that is happy in mere calm, but it is rare; and generally there is not happiness that is not built on the rock, Religion. Every less happiness is broken, imperfect, low, inconsistent, self-contradictory, full of wounds and flaws, or it remains solid by a low measure of understanding and sensibility.

high feeling to stable and 'strong been made were but fuel for this happiness. new fire to burn-a crop to be ploughed in for the true harvest. The fostered flesh has been strong. The spirit comes. If the spirit could have its force and course, the man should gradually tend towards heaven, as he wears from earth. He should mount continually. Morally, this is true; but is it not, my dear De Quincey, curious in metaphysics to see it true intellectually? To see the material world, that seemed so hard and ponderous, turned into a thought? To see intellect play with it, dallying between its existence and its non-existence ? To see the intellect grow spiritual, till it has rejected cumbrous matter, and only knows and sees a spirit?

North. Did Mallebranche say that we see all things in God? It is not impossible that as our moral nature, to find itself entire, must rest in God, so our intellect must. We cannot be happy-we cannot be moral-we cannot know truthexcept in him. Thus, it may be destined that our beginnings of life shall be on this earth, as if this earth were all. We love the parents that gave us birth, the spot on which we grow, all things living and lifeless about our cradle. We love this moist and opaque earth, which is our soil for our downwardstriking roots-here we receive the sunshine and the dews-and we begin Terrene. Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own. The homely nurse doth all she can. There seem, indeed, immense powers exerted about us to bind us, to shut us up in earth and mortality, to make us love finite things, centre and limit our desire in them, and be ourselves finite. All our pleasures, all our senses, all habits and all customs, seem to close us in; strong passions spring up and embrace things finite this is earth, and the strength of earth. This is natural man the child-the daydarger-the Savage. Is it not singular to see what a fitting there has been, and what quantities of power employed, to make terrestrial man? Yet as if this were but a nursery or school, a place of preparation, lo! another end! For a power evolves, of which it seems the use to destroy and abolish what has been made with such pains, as if all that had

English Opium-Eater. That ingenious man, John Fearn, with whom Dugald Stewart would not enter into discussion on a metaphysical question involving the whole philosophy of the Professor, has demonstrated that there is no matter, and is quite satisfied about it. Kant thought that there was, but that we could know nothing of it; that it was nothing in the least like what it appeared to us to be; existing as a cause of certain affections of our minds, but in no sort revealed to them-and even Sir Isaac Newton thought that the most solid-looking matter was a most delicate and airy net-work, if net-work it may be called, of which the infinitesimally invisible atoms were a thousand or a million times their own diameter distant from one another, and that all the real matter of the universe, compacted, might be contained in a cubic inch!

North.-Aye, thus it is, sir, that metaphysicians and physicians concur in overthrowing and absolving our sensible knowledge. They teach us we are fools! and that what we take to be solid is the fabric of a vision !

English Opium-Eater. — True. And is not philosophy, my dear Mr. North, the very undoer of what nature has been doing from the be

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ginning! To nature, Mr. Hogg, the earth is flat-the sky a domeShepherd. The ane green, the ither blue, and baith beautifu’—

English Opium-Eater.-The sun moves-and Galileo is imprisoned for thinking otherwise. But intellect sees through the colored cloud of things. It is an alchemic fire which fuses the substance of nature, annihilating its customary and known form to disclose its essence, which, alas is not by us to be found! But we must conceive this utter disdain and rejection of the admitted world, by intellect in its giant, consummated power, and that is the only true idea of philosophy. Intellect, therefore, can have no rest but in Deity-and we have seen how metaphysical intellect is driven to this, when it comes to believe that there is no matter-nothing but a continual agency of Deity upon mind.

North.-Just so do we find it excessively difficult, from looking at the world, to find the true relation of religion to man. The looking at the world naturally lowers to us the estimate of this relation, because there is so little religion in the world-hardly any-and we can scarcely believe everybody, here too, to be utterly in the wrong. We think the world must have common sense, and end in thinking the high notion of religion contrary to common sense, and visionary. But do not mankind err-and do we not know it? For you see that the multitude miss the End of Life. Have they found the possession of their highest faculties-innate in all? No-not one in a million. Have they found happiness? No -not generally. Look sublimely upon them, and you deplore them and their fate. What is human life then? Mixed. High affections mixed with low, religion with earth and sin, the finite with the infinite. Make an idea of man, and you inevitably take him at the highest, and exalt his life to be like him; but look at him existing, and you see bright fragments of this idea

mixed with what you would fain reject from his life. But can this mixture be all that was intended, that is to be aimed at, to be required? Impossible. But we have not the invincible, burning, aspiring spark in our thoughts-it is stifled and smothered-and therefore we hope neither for ourselves nor others. But see how those judge of others who feel on their own shoulders the untamed eagle-pinions. See how Christians judge, expect, require the Saints, the Anchorites, the Holy Men who have walked on this world more present with another-for whom the veil of flesh has been lifted up or rent. Is it not strange that Brahmins, Christians, and Stoics, all come to one conclusion?

All

English Opium-Eater.-A low philosophy, tending more and more to the elevation of the External, is prevalent among us at this day in England. Jeremy Bentham is preferred to Jeremy Taylor-and Paley has triumphed over Plato. good and all evil is in the Will. The mind that can see the vulgar distinction between Faith and Works, must think that roots and fruits are not parts of the same tree and expect to see the "golden balls on a rotten stump.

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North.-Yes! that doctrine, while it exacts the most scrupulous adherence to the moral law, is at the same time the most cheering and consolatory of any in a world constituted as this is-far more so than any laxer doctrines contrived to flatter human weakness, and thereby encouraging vice, and causing misery. For, according to this doctrine, virtue and its ineffable rewards may be in the spirits of all, be their lot what it may. The slave in bonds may be a glorious freeman. He that seems to sit in darkness and the shadow of death, may be soaring in light and in life. eternal. The sphere of action varies from the theatre of a kingdom

the world-to some obscure and narrow nameless nook; and if the future doom of men were to be ac

cording to the magnitude of their deeds, what would become of that portion of the race that passes away silently and unknown into seeming oblivion! But once allow that as the Will of a man's spirit has been, so shall he be judged by Him who gave it into his keeping, and the gates of heaven are flung wide open to all the uprisen generations of mankind, and the beggar that sat by the waysides of this dreary earth, blind, paralytic, most destitute-but patient, unrepining, contented before the All-seeing eye with his lot of affliction, for him will the heavens lift up their everlasting gates that

he may enter in, even like a king in glory, because his Will was good; while the conqueror, at whose name the world grew pale, may stand shivering far aloof, because while he had wielded the wills of others, he was most abject in his own, and, dazzled with outward pomp and shows, knew not that there was a kingdom in his own soul, in which it would have been far better sto reign, because he who has been monarch there, exchanges an earthly for a spiritual crown, and when summoned from his throne on earth, awakens at the feet of a throne in heaven.

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But the epithet circulator, in its Latin invidious signification (quack), was applied to him by many in derision, and his researches and discoveries were treated by his adversaries with contempt and reproach. To an intimate friend he himself complained, that after his book of the circulation came out he fell considerably in his practice, and it was believed by the

Harvey's Discovery of the Circulation of the Blood.-HARVEY'S work cost him twenty-five years to bring it to maturity; bis discovery was ill received, most persons opposed it, others said it was old, very few agreed with him. He had, indeed, his admirers; witness, for example, certain verses which were addressed "To the Incomparable Dr. Harvey, on his Book of the Motion of the Heart and Blood," in_vulgar that he was crack-brained: all his which these lines occur :

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contemporary physicians were against his opinion, and envied him the fame he was likely to acquire by his discovery. That reputation he did, however, ultimately enjoy; about twenty-five years after the publication of his system, it was received in all the universities of the world-and Hobbes has observed, that Harvey was the only man perhaps who ever lived to see his own doctrine established in his lifetime.

Chinese Policy.-In China all is at a stand still; succeeding ages add not to the

knowledge of those that have gone before; no one must presume to be wiser than his fathers: around the Son of Heaven, as they designate their emperor, assemble the learned of the land as his council; so in the provinces the learned in their several degrees around the governor; and laws and rules are passed from the highest down to the lowest, to be by them given to the people. Every, even the most minute, circumstance of common life, is regulated by law. It matters not, for example, what may be the wealth of an individual; he must wear the dress and build his house after the mode prescribed by ancient regulations. In China everything bears the stamp of antiquity; immoveableness seems to be the characteristic of the nation; every implement retains its primitive rude form; every invention has stopped at the first step.

Quin's Siamese Soup.-Quin in his old age, every one knows, became a great gourmand, and, among other things, invented a composition, which he called his "Siamese Soup," pretending that its ingredients were principally from the "East." The peculiarity of its flavor became the topic of the day. The " "" rage at Bath was Mr. Quin's soup; but as he would not part with the recipe, this state of notice was highly inconvenient; every person of taste was endeavoring to dine with him; every dinner he was at, an apology was made for the absence of the "Siamese

Soup." His female friends Quin was forced to put off with promises; the males received a respectful but manly denial. A conspiracy was accordingly projected by a dozen bons vivans of Bath, against his peace and comfort. At home he was flooded with anonymous letters; abroad, beset with applications under every form, The possession of this secret was made a canker to all his enjoyments. Collecting the names of the principal confederates, he invited them to dinner, promising to give them the recipe before they departed an invitation, as my reader will suppose, which was joyfully accepted. Quin then gave a pair of his old boots to the housemaid to scour and soak, and, when sufficiently seasoned, to chop up into fine particles, like minced meat. On the appointed day, he took these particles, and pouring them into a copper pot, with sage, puions, spice, ham, wine, water, and other ingredients, composed a mixture of about two gallons, which was served up at his table as his "Siamese soup." The com pany were in transports at its flavor; but Quin, pleading a cold, did not taste it. A pleasant evening was spent, and when the hour of departure arrived, each person pulled out his tablets to write down the recipe. Quin now pretended that he had forgot making the promise; but his guests were not to be put off; and closing the door, they told him in plain terins, that neither he nor they should quit the room

till his pledge had been redeemed. Quin stammered and evaded, and kept them from the point as long as possible; but when their patience was bearing down all bounds, his reluctance gave way. "Well, then, gentlemen," said he, "in the first place, take an old pair of boots-!" "What! an old pair of boots!" "The older the better; -(they stared at each other)-" cut off their tops and soles, and soak them in a tub of water "-(they hesi tated)-" chop them into fine particles, and pour them into a pot with two gallons and a half of water." 66 Why, d-n it, Quin," they simultaneously exclaimed, "you don't mean to say that the soup we've been drinking was made of old boots!" "I do, gentlemen," he replied, seriously, "my cook will assure you she chopped them up." They required no such attestation; his cool, inflexible expression was sufficient in an instant, horror and despair were depicted on each countenance, in the full conviction they were individually poisoned. Quin, observing this, begged them not to be alarmed, since he could contemplate no dangerous results from their dinner; but if they thought it would sit uneasy on their stomachs, there was an apothecary's shop in the next street. The hint was taken an idea of personal safety subdued the rising throbs of indignation. Seizing their hats, away flew the whole bevy down stairs, and along the street to the place advised, where ipecacuanha and other provocatives were speedily procured, and the "Siamese soup (and all its concomitants) was speedily disgorged.

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Present State of History.-In the south of Europe, as if for a warning to others to shun the evil, civil and religious despotism are still suffered by Providence to display their hideous forms; but in the New World, the incipient and chaotic state of freedom is travailing in the birth of a purer and more regular order of things. The "march sublime" of liberty is, we trust, not to be retarded for ages to come. England has led the way in this glorious career; and the last blemish which stained her fair fame, and afforded a topic of reproach to her enemies, has been removed, while her councils were directed by the warrior who so often had led her armies to victory. Esto perpetua.

Vandyke, Titian, and Reynolds,-Northcote began by saying, “You don't much like Sir Joshua, I know; but I think that is one of your prejudices. If I was to compare him with Vandyke and Titian, I should say that Vandyke's portraits are like pictures (very perfect ones, no doubt), Sir Joshua's like the reflection in a looking-glass, and Titian's like the real people. There is an atmosphere of light and shade about Sir Joshua's, which neither of the others have in the same degree, together with a vagueness that gives them a visionary and romantic character, and makes

them seem like dreams of vivid recollections of persons we have seen. I never could mistake Vandyke's for anything but pictures, and I go up to examine them as such: when I see a fine Sir Joshua, I can neither suppose it to be a mere picture nor a man; and I almost involuntarily turn back to ascertain if it is not some one behind me reflected in the glass: when I see a Titian, I am riveted to it, and I can no more take my eye off from it than if it were the very individual in the room. That," he said, "is, I think, peculiar to Titian, that you feel on your good behavior in the presence of his keen-looking heads, as if you were before company." Liberality-Mr. Robert Fenwick, lately established at Choisy, near Paris, supplies one half of the milk necessary for the Hôtel Dieu, a contract which requires from 4,000 to 4,500 litres a-month. This respectable gentleman has made an offer to the director, who has accepted the genePous proposal, to furnish gratis the whole quantity of milk, from July 27, so long as there shall be at the Hotel Dieu any of the men who were wounded in the memorable contest.

Few young men of agreeable persons or conversation turn out great artists. It is easier to look in the glass than to make a dull canvass shine like a lucid mirror; and, as to talking, Sir Joshua used to say, a painter should sew up his mouth. It was only the love of distinction that produced eminence; and if a man was admired for one thing, that was enough. We only work out our way to excellence by being imprisoned in defects. It requires a long apprenticeship, great pains, and prodigious self-denial, which no man will submit to, except from necessity, or as the only chance he has of escaping from obsrurity. I remember when Mr. Locke (of Norbury-Park) first came over from Italy, and old Dr. Moore, who had a high opinion of him, was crying up his drawings, and asked me if I did not think he would make a great painter? I said, "No, never!" "Why not?" "Because he has six thousand a-year." No one would throw away all the advantages and indulgences this ensured him, to shut himself up in a garret to pore over that which, after all, may expose him to contempt and ridicule. Artists, to be sure, have gone on painting after they have got rich, such as Rubens and Titian, and indeed Sir Joshua; but then it had by this time become a habit and a source of pleasure instead of a toil to them, and the honors and distinction they had acquired by it counterbalanced every other consideration. Their love of the art had become greater than their love of riches or of idleness: but at first this is not the case, and the repugnance to labor is only mastered by the absolute necessity for it.

Animal Magnetism.-The professors of

this art in Germany pretend to have discovered the means of plunging animals into magnetic sleep. A German paper mentions several real or pretended instances of success.

Originality.-Northcote said that Sir Joshua used to say that no one produced more than six original things. I always said it was wrong to fix upon this number five out of the six would be found, upon examination, to be repetitions of the first. A man can no more produce six original works than he can be six individuals at once. Whatever is the strong and prevailing bent of his genius, he will stamp upon some master-work; and what he does else, will be only the same thing over again, a little better or a little worse; or if he goes out of his way in search of variety and to avoid himself, he will merely become a common-place man or an imitator of others.

Potato Cheese.-In many parts of Saxony, cheese is made in the following manner from potatoes :-Take the best potatoes and boil them; when cold, beat them in a mortar into a pulp, adding a pint of sour milk to 5lbs. of potatoes. Keep the mass covered for three or four days, and then beat it again. Make it into small cheeses, which are to be placed in baskets, to let the superfluous moisture escape. Dry them in the shade, and then pile them on each other for 15 days; after which they may be put away in any manner in a dry place. They have a very pleasant flavor, and will keep good for years, improving with age.

Mrs. Ibbot used to relate to me many whimsical illustrations of dramatic life; and among others, once said, that about the period of her entering the profession (1740), she was present at the performance of an old Roman play, in a gentleman's barn in Norfolk, when the principal actor came forward to deliver the prologue (which then in the country used generally to be a part of the plot), and having to say, "When Hannibal and Scipio first waged war, they took a circumference to Africa," he enunciated-" When Han-ni-bawal and Ski-pi-o first wag-ged war, they took a kirk-kum-fer-ence round to Afri-ca."

Curious Party Titles.-Two factions, for nearly two centuries, divided and agitated the whole population of Holland and Zealand. One bore the title of Hoeks (fishing-hooks); the other was called Kaabeljauws (cod fish.) The origin of these burlesque denominations was a dispute between two parties at a feast, as to whether the cod-fish took the hook, or the hook took the cod-fish? This apparently frivolous dispute was made the pretext for a serious quarrel; and the partisans of the nobles and those of the towns' ranged themselves at either side, and assumed different badges of distinction. The Hoeks, partisans of the towns, wore red caps: the Kaabeljauws wore grey ones.

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