pierce the shadowy gorge below. The tall sapling growth of buckeye and Linden that spring within the dell, and lift their slender stems and sickly-coloured leaves so aspiringly, yet faintingly, towards the light, sink into mere shrubs when viewed from this emi. Bence; while the pines and oaks around you, which had appeared equally insignificant when viewed from below, seem now almost to interlace their branches over the gulf. A thrilling incident is said to have occurred here a few years since. There is a cavernous recess about midway in the face of the precipice, whose height, you will recollect, is estimated at more than three hundred feet; and some bold adventurer determined to be let down to explore this fissure. He easily found some of his acquaintance who consented to assist in the experiment; and standing on the edge of the chasm, they began to lower him down by a rope attached to his body.

After descending some forty or fifty feet, our adventurer discovered that the side of the precipice shelved so much inwardly that it was impossible for him to touch the wall even at so short a distance from the top. It was necessary then to provide some pointed instrument by which he could hold on to the face of the cliff as he descended. He was accordingly pulled up once more, and then, after providing himself with a gig,' or long fish-spear, much used in the adjacent rivers, he started anew upon his perilous voyage. The gig appeared to answer its purpose extremely well, though the task of thrusting it from time to time in the crevices of the rock, as the cord was gradually slacked from above, was both tiresome and exhausting. The point proposed was just attained, and the patient adventurer was about to reap the reward of his toil, and plant his foot in the fissure, when his companions shouted from above that their coil of rope had run

out.

It was too provoking to be thus a second time disappointed, when his object seemed almost within his grasp, and but a few more yards of cord would have enabled him to complete his purpose. He had given too much trouble, and encountered too much peril, now to abandon his design completely. Thus reasoned the bold cragsman, as, clinging like a bat to the wall, he hung midway between heaven and earth; and determining not to give up his point, he shouted to his comrades to splice a grape-vine to the end of the rope! The substitute was easily procured, and being quickly attached, more line was at once payed out from above. He had now descended so far that the shelving precipice projected far over his head, almost like the flat ceiling of a chamber; but still his fishingspear enabled him to keep close to the face of the rock, and practice now taught him to handle it with dexterity and confidence. He is at last opposite to the cavernous opening he would explore; and without waiting to measure its depth, he balances himself against a jutting point of rock with one hand, while the other strikes his javelin at a crevice in the sides of the deep recess before him. The spear falls short; the adventurer is at once detached from the face of the cliff to which he had been so carefully adhering; and the great angle at which the rope that sustains him has been now drawn, sends him swinging like a pendulum over the frightful gulf. The grape-vineso strong and secure as long as there is a perpendicu. lar pull upon it-now cracks and splits as if its fibres could not bear the strain; while the weight at the end of it spins round in the air, and the frayed bark falls in strips upon the alarmed cragsman, as he watches it grate off upon the edge of the precipice above him. He maintains his self-possession, however, while his companions pull carefully and steadily upon the fragile cable. He soon sees the knot at which the rope is tied to it in their hands, and a shout of triumph hails his approach to the top, where he is at last safely landed; perfectly content, one may conceive, to forego all the pleasure that might have arisen from a more satisfactory examination of the recess, from which he had made so expeditious and involuntary an exit. The hair-breadth escape of this cool climber of crags reminds me of one equally thrilling that I received from the lips of the hero of it, Loon after entering these mountains.

The open

sixty-two is said to be the measured depth); and the
only mode of advancing farther into the cave is by de-
scending here, when you come to a flat surface, where-
on your farther progress is unimpeded. The sides of
the precipice are marked here and there by ledges
of rock, and the persons employed in manufacturing
saltpetre had, with considerable ingenuity, adjusted
a chain of ladders, from one ledge to another, so as
to form, apparently, a continuous staircase down the
perpendicular side of the cliff.

ship-not to speak of more delicate correspondences -however much to our taste, without the interven tion of some third anomaly, some impertinent clog affixed to the relation-the understood dog in the proverb. The good things of life are not to be had singly, but come to us with a mixture; like a schoolboy's holiday, with a task affixed to the tail of it. What a delightful companion is —, if he did not always bring his tall cousin with him! He seems to grow with him; like some of those double births, At the close of the war, twenty years ago, the cave which we remember to have read of with such wonder became deserted. The population then was not dense and delight in the old "Athenian Oracle," where Swift around, and there being but little travel along the commenced author by writing Pindaric odes (what nearest highway, the place was seldom mentioned, a beginning for him!) upon Sir William Temple. and never resorted to. It chanced one day, about six There is the picture of the brother, with the little years since, that the man whom I wished now to guide brother peeping out at his shoulder-a species of fra me thither passed the mouth of the cavern, with a ternity which we have no name of kin close enough companion, in hunting. Sitting down near it, to re- to comprehend. When comes, poking in his fresh themselves, they began to recall their recollec- head and shoulders into your room, as if to feel his tion of those who had worked in the cave in by-gone entry, you think, surely you have now got him to years; and the period seemed so recent, that they yourself what a three hours' chat we shall have! thought it worth while to look whether none of their But, ever in the haunch of him, and before his diffiimplements, then used, were yet to be found in the dent body is well disclosed in your apartment, appears pit; determining that any of the tools that might be the haunting shadow of the cousin, over-peering his left, after so long an interval, would be a fair prize modest kinsman, and sure to overlay the expected for themselves. good talk with his insufferable procerity of stature, Entering the cavern, they first, by the light of a and uncorresponding dwarfishness of observation. pine-torch, carefully examined the wooden ladders Misfortunes seldom come alone. 'Tis hard when a which had been now for sixteen years exposed to the blessing comes accompanied. Cannot we like Semdamps of the place. They had been made of cedar, pronia, without sitting down to chess with her eternal and still appeared sound. The cautious hunters agreed brother? or know Sulpicia, without knowing all the that all was right, and both descended. They reached round of her card-playing relations? must my friend's the bottom in safety, and, as expected, they found se- brethren of necessity be mine also? must we be hand veral neglected tools still remaining there; and select and glove with Dick Selby the parson, or Jack Selby ing a pickaxe and a spade, they commenced their the calico printer, because W. S., who is neither, but ascent upon the ladders. The first flight was soon ac- a ripe wit and a critic, has the misfortune to claim a complished; but their steps became slower as they got common parentage with them? Let him lay down his farther from the bottom, and as the implements which brothers, and 'tis odds but we will cast him in a pair they carried could not be balanced upon the shoulders, of our's (we have a superflux) to balance the conces each had but one hand upon the ladder, and of course sion. Let F. H. lay down his garrulous uncle; and as that became tired, each was compelled to move Honorius dismiss his vapid wife, and superfluous esta more and more carefully. Patience and steadiness,blishment of six boys-things between boy and manhowever, at last brought them near the summit. In hood-too ripe for play, too raw for conversationfact, the upper rung of the ladder was in view, when that come in impudently staring their father's old the foremost man taking hold of one more decayed friend out of countenance; and will neither aid nor than the rest, it broke in his grasp, and he fell back- let alone the conference: that we may once more meet ward with his whole weight upon the chest of his upon equal terms, as we were wont to do in the discompanion; the other reeled and staggered with the engaged state of bachelorhood. blow, but still kept his one-handed hold upon the ladder. The iron tools went clanging to the bottom. There was a moment of intense anxiety whether he could sustain his comrade; there was another of thrilling doubt whether his comrade could regain the ladder; and both were included in one mortal agony of fear and horror. But the falling man clutched the ladder instantly, and laying a frantic grip with both hands upon the sides, they gained the top at last together. 'Stranger,' concluded the man, while his voice faltered at the end of the tale, we knelt to God at the mouth of that cave, and swore never to enter it more.'

LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG,

A POPULAR FALLACY.

[By Elia.]
"GOOD sir, or madam, as it may be, we most willingly
embrace the offer of your friendship. We long have
known your excellent qualities. We have wished to
have you nearer to us; to hold you within the very
innermost fold of our heart. We can have no reserve
towards a person of your open and noble nature. The
frankness of your humour suits us exactly. We have
been long looking for such a friend. Quick-let us
disburthen our troubles into each other's bosom-let
us make our single joys shine by reduplication-But
yap, yap, yap! What is this confounded cur? he
has fastened his tooth, which is none of the bluntest,
just in the fleshy part of my leg."

"It is my dog, sir. You must love him for my
sake. Here, Test Test-Test !"-" But he has

bitten me."

"Ay, that he is apt to do, till you are better acquainted with him. I have had him three years. He

It is well if your friend or mistress be content with these canicular probations. Few young ladies but in this sense keep a dog. But when Rutilia hounds at you her tiger aunt, or Ruspina expects you to cherish and fondle her viper sister, whom she has preposterously taken into her bosom, to try stinging conclu sions upon your constancy, they must not complain if the house be rather thin of suitors. Scylla must have broken off many excellent matches in her time, if she insisted upon all that loved her loving her dogs also.

An excellent story to this moral is told of Merry, of Della Cruscan memory. In tender youth he loved and courted a modest appanage to the opera, in truth a dancer, who had won him by the artless contrast between her manners and situation. She seemed to him a native violet, that had been transplanted by some rude accident into that exotic and artificial hotbed. Nor, in truth, was she less genuine and sincere than she appeared to him. He wooed and won this flower. Only for appearance' sake, and for due honour to the bride's relations, she craved that she might have the attendance of her friends and kindred at the approaching solemnity. The request was too amiable not to be conceded; and in this solicitude for conciliating the good will of mere relations, he found a presage of her superior attentions to himself, when the golden shaft should have "killed the flock of all affections else." The morning came; and at the Star and Garter, Richmond-the place appointed for the breakfasting-accompanied with one English friend, he impatiently awaited what reinforcements the bride should bring to grace the ceremony. A rich muster she had made. They came in six coaches -the whole corps du ballet-French, Italian, men Monsieur De B., the famous pirouetter and women. of the day, led his fair spouse, but craggy, from the The Prima Donna had sent her banks of the Seine. excuse. But the first and second Buffa were there; and Signor Sc-, and Signora Ch, and Madame V-, with a countless cavalcade besides of chorusers, figurantes, at the sight of whom Merry afterwards declared, that "then for the first time it struck him seriously, that he was about to marry a dancer." But there was no help for it. Besides, it was her day; these were, in fact, her friends and kinsfolk. The assemblage, though whimsical, was all very natural. But when the bride-handing out of the last coach a still more extraordinary figure than the rest-pre. sented to him as her father the gentleman that was to give her away-no less a person than Signor Delpini himself with a sort of pride, as much as to say, See what I have brought to do us honour!-the thought of so extraordinary a paternity quite over. The above dialogue is not so imaginary, but that, came him; and slipping away under some pretence in the intercourse of life, we have had frequent occa- from the bride and her motley adherents, poor Merry sions of breaking off an agreeable intimacy by reason took horse from the backyard to the nearest sea-coast, of these canine appendages. They do not always come from which, shipping himself to America, he shortly in the shape of dogs; they sometimes wear the more after consoled himself with a more congenial match in plausible and human character of kinsfolk, near ac- the person of Miss Brunton; relieved from his in. quaintances, my friend's friend, his partner, his wife, tended clown father, and a bevy of painted Buffas for or his children. We could never yet form a friend-bridemaids.-Last Essays of Elia.

never bites me."

"But do you always take him out with you, when
you go a friendship-hunting ?" "Invariably. "Tis
the sweetest, prettiest, best-conditioned animal. I call
him my test-the touchstone by which I try a friend.
No one can properly be said to love me, who does not
love him."
"Excuse us, dear sir-or madam aforesaid-if,
upon further consideration, we are obliged to decline
the otherwise invaluable offer of your friendship. We
do not like dogs."—" Mighty well, sir-you know the
conditions-you may have worse offers. Come along,
Test."

I had heard of a remarkable saltpetre cave, within a few miles of the inn where I was staying, at Cumberland Gap, and was anxious to explore it. There Yap, yap, yap!" He is at it again."-"Oh, sir, was an individual in the neighbourhood who was said you must not kick him. He does not like to be kicked. to have worked in the cavern, in manufacturing salt-I expect my dog to be treated with all the respect due petre, at a time when there was a great demand for to myself." gunpowder, during the last war. This man I attempted to procure as a guide; but though he acted as a pioneer for me to several wild scenes, nothing could persuade him to take me to this. He at length, with some emotion, assigned his reasons, which will better appear after I have given you the features of the place, as they were described to me. ing of the cavern is in West Virginia, on the side of the Cumberland Mountains; but one of its branches has been traced far into the adjacent state of Kentucky, and there are said to be several chambers of it in Tennessee. I have myself, indeed, in exploring one of its supposed passages, that opened two miles from the main embouchure, passed the dividing line of two of these states. The most direct of its branches has, in former years, been measured with a chain, to the extent of seven miles. The form of the cavern is as remarkable as its size: as, just far enough within the entrance to shroud it in darkness, there is a precipice of more than two hundred feet (two hundred and

Column for Anglers.

BAIT-FISHING AND TROLLING.

THIS being now the season for angling, we may advantageously offer another chapter on that delightful art, from the useful treatise of Mr Stoddart-taking first the subject of bait-fishing.

are few, or bite shyly, patience and a long line will
carry the day. Remarkably fine gut ought to be used
by all ground anglers, whatever be the practice.
To all bait-fishers, Scotland affords excellent sport;
her rivers run so strongly, and are maintained by so
many sources in the shape of mountain burns. These
romantic streamlets abound in trout; every stone

"The first object of the ground angler is to obtain shelters its inhabitant, and the meanest pool is peopled and prepare his worms. These reptiles are to be with numbers. Burn fish, however, are generally of found in greatest quantities on a rich moist soil. Clay, a small size; they seldom exceed a pound in weight, sand, and peat-moss, afford them in very small numexcept in the spawning season, when larger ones asbers. They will generate quickly under all sorts of cend from broader streams, or lochs at a distance. manure and decayed substances, vegetable as well as Still the taking of them is a pleasant pastime, espeanimal. Four or five different varieties are known in cially when they bite eagerly at your worm, as they this country; among which we find the large lob or do during rain and in discoloured water. At such dew worm, an excellent bait for salmon and sea trout. times you have only to drop your bait without art, These may be picked up in any garden, by a ready and the fish will manage its own ruin. hand during the summer twilights, when they crawl out upon the surface in search of food. They are a beautiful and subtle worm, and require to be seized with some address. Secondly, we have the common earth worm, a smaller and more inactive sort. Thirdly, the brandling, a beautifully streaked variety, found only in very rich and warm soils, among hot beds, near common sewers, and at the side of tan pits; the red worm also breeds along with it, and both are highly esteemed by anglers. We, however, reckon the brandling a soft bait, and disagreeable to handle, being filled with a yellow liquid, which issues out on the slightest pressure. This reptile generates with wonderful rapidity; a dozen or two of them, in the course of a few days, when placed among warm manure sufficient in quantity, will produce many myriads, as we have witnessed. The red worm is certainly superior as a bait, although somewhat small and clear. Worms may be dug up with a spade or a threepronged instrument, such as is used for raising potatoes. We, however, pefer another method of taking them. Insert a thickish stick or dibble into the soil, eight or ten inches deep. Move it backwards and forwards with tolerable quickness, so as to agitate the earth round about. After a minute or so, every worm within the circle of agitation, which may extend several feet, will appear at the surface. The reason of this is, that some mole is imagined to be near at hand by these reptiles, who, accordingly, attempt their escape by shooting upwards, and then travelling over the top instead of working their way out of reach, through a stubborn mass of earth, which their natural enemy might penetrate much faster. This method of capturing worms has the advantage of bringing them into your hands in a purified condition, free from filth and injury, both of which your delving instrument is apt to occasion.

In taking your worms, have a flannel bag near you filled with fresh clean moss, into which drop them when seized. They should be kept two or three days in a cool place before used, in order to be thoroughly purged and toughened. Take care that the moss become neither too dry nor too wet; a spoonful of cream or sweet milk is a good remedy for the former defect -a better is to change it every other day for some newly plucked. In preparing worms, a common flower pot is a good recipient. Some anglers redden theirs with a mixture of pounded brick, oatmeal, and water the effect of this composition is nevertheless entirely fanciful.

:

The manner of fixing the worm we leave entirely to one's own taste: a general rule is to conceal the hook without injuring the appearance of the bait. Most anglers use two worms in this way. They insert the hook at one-third of its whole length's distance from the head of one, and bring it out at the same distance from the tail; they then commence with the other in like manner, only the hook is not brought out again at all, but the barb left covered near the extremity of the worm.

tom.

Some anglers permit their worm to be carried forward by the current; others move it across with a heavy sinker appended, so as to keep it near the botAnd as to the manner in which trout take the bait, it may be noticed, that at the first dart they engross the whole hook within their mouths; wherefore, many, knowing this, strike at the moment: the fish then let the bait go, and commence upon the worm more leisurely, killing it with repeated bites before it is finally swallowed.

For quick striking, a very short line is necessary, not above the length of the rod; this ought always to be kept at its full stretch, and moved in a half circle with the angler. It requires some degree of percep tion to know the exact instant when the fish first seizes your bait; it does so with such softness, and with no likeness of a tug, as one is apt to imagine; nay, it merely closes its jaws upon the hook, as a gaping oyster would do upon one's finger. Then is your opportunity for striking; if you neglect it, you allow the trout its more leisurely process of nibbling, and its chances of escape. In striking with the short line, do it sharply, and never against the current, but rather with it, in a diagonal direction, and not too high. The reason of this advice is obvious, for ull fish feed with their heads pointing up the streamKindly giving you the choice of pulling the hook into or out of their mouths; the latter of which purposes you accomplish, to a dead certainty, by striking against the current. This whip-jack manner of bait-fishing is very deadly with an experienced hand. The longline anglers make nothing of their method comparatively; and yet, among clear waters, and where fish

In ground-fishing for salmon, use lob-worms, fresh from the earth, and not toughened or prepared in any way. Angle with a long line, and give time before striking; you will fix him at the second or third tug. Akin to this sort of angling is roe-fishing, concern. ing which, we remark, that in autumn it is the most fatal method of capturing trout, and is growing much into practice in the south of Scotland. The roe is procured generally from the grilse of salmon, and used either in a raw state, made into paste, or salted entire. We give the following receipt for salting roe: Procure some pounds of the freshest-notice that it be red and firm; take off the membrane and broken parts; wash the spawn in lukewarm milk and water, carefully separating the individual particles; beat together three parts of fine salt, and one of saltpetre, and rub the whole carefully with the mixture, in the proportion of an ounce and a quarter to the pound of roe; spread it thus prepared over a flannel cloth until quite dry and tough; then stow it in pots, and run the top over with lard to exclude the air. This preparation will keep good for a long time. In making paste, parboil and pound the roe, salting it with the same mixture as we have just described. One great object is to preserve and heighten the natural colour of the spawn, a somewhat difficult matter we confess, and yet seem. ingly known better in England than here, where it is more angled with, and procured in greater quantities.

In angling, cover the point of your hook with a piece of roe cut with a knife, as large as a horse-bean, taking care, while attaching it, not to crush the ova; and employ a short line, striking quickly. Always fix upon one stream, and keep to it; you are not diminishing the number of fish near you, catch them as rapidly as you may. Some anglers previously bait the ground by throwing in a handful or two of spawn. This attracts and keeps the fish to the spot. Turbid and swollen waters are the best for roe-fishing, and your likeliest month is October.

must row after him, and turn him if you can before he gets among weeds; never slack your line for an instant, and look well about you. Land as soon as you are able, and play him from the shore. Your compa:ion will assist you at the death."

taught a number of tricks. On the 11th April 1831, EXHIBITION OF CATS.-Cats, like dogs, may be Edinburgh by a company of Italians. These animals an exhibition of cats (six in number) was opened in gave astonishing proofs of their intelligence. They were kept in a large sparred box, and individually seemed perfectly to understand their duty. These came forth, at the command of the exhibitor, and well-tutored creatures beat a drum, turned a spit, struck upon an anvil, turned a coffee-roaster, and rang bells. Two of them, who seemed to be inore sagacious than the rest, drew a bucket, suspended, by a pully, in the manner water is raised from a draw. well. The length of the rope was about six feet; and they perfectly understood when the bucket was high enough, when they stopped pulling. In the greater part of their performances they stood on their hind legs. We remarked an instance of great cunning in one of the animals, which was not at the time employed, but was in its box, and seemed to know that its companion, who was employed in drawing the wa ter, would be rewarded the second time with a small bit of meat, which was put into the bucket. It come slyly out, and, when the bucket was on a level with the place where it was sitting, caught hold of it with its claws, and purloined the beef. There was also in the exhibition a tame white rat, which the exhibitor brought out of a box, and desired one of the cats to He afterwards put it on the cat's head, and it walked kiss it, when it immediately licked the rat all over. over her body, without seeming to give her any unwheel, only when a piece of meat, stuck on a spit, pleasant sensation. One of the cats would turn a was put before it; but the instant it was removed, she stopped, and however loudly the exhibitor called to it, and even threatened to whip it, no attention was paid to his orders till the meat was replaced.—Brown's Anecdotes of Quadrupeds.

SPONTANEOUS BURNING OF THE BODIES OF DRUNKARDS. The spontaneous combustion of the human body would appear to be the result of long and confirmed drunkenness in the individual who suffers. The constant drinking of ardent spirits saturates the whole fabric of the body, making it so highly inflammable, that, under certain circumstances, when a flame is contiguous, the catastrophe of burning to death ensues. The following account is given by Devergie, a French author, of the general manner of its occurrence:- Spontaneous combustion commences by a bluish flame being seen to extend itself by little and little with an extreme rapidity over all the parts of the body affected; this always persists until the parts are blackened, and generally until they are burnt to a cinder. Many times attempts have been made to extinguish this flame with water, but without success. When the parts are touched, a fattish matter attaches itself to the finger, which still continues to burn. At the same time a very strong and disagreeable smell, having an analogy to burnt horn, spreads itself through the apartment. A thick black smoke escapes from the body, and attaches itself to the surface of the furniture in the form of a sweat, unctuous to the touch, and of an insupportable fetor. In many cases the combustion is arrested only when the flesh has been reduced to a cinder, and the bones to powder. Commonly, the feet and a portion of the Trout seize a minnow by the middle or near the head are not burnt. When the combustion is finishhead, and you generally hook them on the upper ed, an incinerated mass remains, which it is difficult hooks. In rivers where numbers of minnows are to believe can be the whole of the body. All this may found, you must angle with the very smallest, not happen in the space of an hour and a half. It is ra above an inch in length, and use a proportionate ther uncommon for the furniture around it to take tackle. The trout in such waters love delicate tit-fire; sometimes even the clothes are not injured." bits, and are absurdly nice in their feeding. Artifi cial minnows are sometimes employed by anglers, but generally fail, except in muddy waters and lochs.

We now come to treat of minnow fishing, by far the pleasantest method of capturing trout, next to angling with the fly. If you wish to engage in this pleasant sport, provide your minnows by means of a small drag-net or hook. Select those of a moderate size, and which shine whitest. They may be salted, but are best perfectly fresh. Fish in rapid streams, also in deep discoloured pools, and during a smart curl. Manage the minnow as you would your fly, throwing it down and across as far as you are able: bring it towards you about six inches or more below the surface, spinning rapidly by the aid of several swivels. When a fish rises, give him time before you strike; let him turn and gorge the bait, then strike sharply, and he is yours: all fly-fishers are apt to strike too soon, and miss the fish.

Trolling with par for large trout is a glorious pastime, especially on a Highland loch, circled with mountain scenery-the craft of nature by incantation wrought, when the morning stars sang together. It needs intellect to enjoy it well, and a poet's heart to know its luxury. Take with you some choice and idle spirit, a rower he must be that can manage your airy shallop as the winds do a weathercock-can chant a ballad of yore of ladye and chieftain, and pranksome elf and kelpie wild-can speak to the echoes and to yourself, cheering you with wit and wisdom, and admiring your science and skill; and the gorgeous fish you are playing, twenty fathoms off, with a strong and steady hand, your heart high fluttering the while, like woman's when she loves."

Tackle for trolling should be dressed upon tried gimp. Bait as you do with a minnow use a strong rod, heavy lead, and a long line of oiled cord, wound upon an easy reel. Choose a sunny day, with a stiffish breeze, and troll near but not among the weediest parts of the loch. Plant yourself at the boat stern, and get rowed gently at the rate of three miles an hour, letting out from twenty to thirty yards of line betwixt you and your bait. Trout from six to nine pounds weight cause the best sport when hooked: a larger one seldom leaps or makes any violent exertion to escape; he swims sullenly, and at ease, regarding the angler with a sort of sovereign contempt. You

IMITATION OF THE ANCIENTS.-The imitation of the classics has perverted the whole taste of modern Europe on the subject of composition: it has made style a subject of cultivation and of praise, independently of ideas; whereas, by the ancients, style was never thought of but in complete subordination to matter. The ancients would as soon have thought of a coat in the abstract, as of style in the abstract: the merit of a style, in their eyes, was, that it exactly fitted the thought. Their first aim was, by the assi duous study of their subject, to secure to themselves thoughts worth expressing; their next was, to find words which would convey those thoughts with the utmost degree of nicety; and only when this was made sure did they think of ornament. Their style, therefore, whether ornamented or plain, grows out of their turn of thought, and may be admired, but cannot be imitated, by any one whose turn of thought is different.-London Review.

LONDON: Published, with Permission of the Proprietors, by OKR & SMITH, Paternoster Row; and sold by G. BERGER, Holywell Street, Stand; BANCKS & Co., Manchester: WRIGHTSON & WEBB, Birmingham; WILLMER & SMITH, Liverpool: W. E. SOMERSCALE, Leeds; C. N. WRIGHT, Nottingham; M. BINGHAM, Bristol; S. SIMMS, Bath; C. GAIN, Exeter; J. PEE DON, Hull; A. WHITTAKER, Sheffield; H. BELLERBY, York; J. TAYLOR, Brighton; GEORGE YOUNG, Dublin; and all other Booksellers and Newsmen in Great Britain and Ireland, Canada, Nova Scotia, and United States of America.

Complete sets of the work from its commencement, or numbers to complete sets, may at all times be obtained from the Pub lishers or their Agents. Stereotyped by A. Kirkwood, Edinburgh. Printed by Bradbury and Evans (late T. Davison). White friars.

CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM CHAMBERS, AUTHOR OF "THE BOOK OF SCOTLAND," &c., AND BY ROBERT CHAMBERS,
AUTHOR OF "TRADITIONS OF EDINBURGH," "PICTURE OF SCOTLAND," &c.

No. 180.

A FEW OF OUR SMALLER FOIBLES. MANKIND are beset by a number of small foibles, which, though all must be more or less conscious of them, have as yet been hardly ever made the subject of literary remark. Among the least tolerable and most dangerous is the aptitude, in certain circumstances, to fall into a panic. A slight crack, such as often takes place in furniture or any thing else composed of wood, is heard in a full church, and immediately the whole congregation rush to be smothered and pressed to death in the doorways. Numerous instances have shown that, for once that damage occurs from the giving way of a gallery, it occurs twenty times, and in far greater extent, from the crowding of the passages; but still, when the crack is heard, mankind are found to be unconvinced, and, each believing that he is to be one of the fortunate few who will get clear of all danger, away they rush from the one chance incurred by sitting still, to the twenty to which they will be exposed in the attempt to escape. Experience, benevolence, reason, all seem incompetent in this case to resist the dictate of an alarmed and overpowering selfishness. Not much more respectable, if so much, is the panic which sometimes takes place in reference to the credit of banks. Several thousand persons, desiring to have their spare money employed at interest, deposit it with a party who makes it his business to mediate between the borrower and the lender. Suddenly a doubt arises-often from the most senseless causes-as to the trustworthiness of the mediating party, who is immediately besieged by a host of clamorous creditors, each hopeful that he will be among those who are to get out, though all must be sensible that to expect a ready presentation of such a vast quantity of money, which has long since been lent out to others, and that expressly in order that an interest might be allowed, is in the highest degree unreason

Comedy by heart, and had been accustomed all his life
to enjoy it either in the original, or through the me-
dium of Mr Carey. Nearly the same thing may be
said in regard to Milton, whom every body buys, dips
into, tires over, and then lays aside, and praises for
Nine-tenths of even the well-educated are un-
ever.
able to appreciate these poets; but as no one likes
to be supposed deficient in this kind of taste, which
looks like the characteristic of an exalted mind, the
nine-tenths are as ready, or even readier, to bestow
commendation, than the remaining tenth of real ap-
preciators, simply in order that their ignorance and
inferiority of understanding and feeling may not be
detected. Besides, the very want of readers prevents
the real merits of the author from being ascertained.
An author obtains a certain degree of reputation: in
time, taste changes, and he ceases to be read: still,
mankind, afraid that the fault lies with themselves,
praise on; and thus a book may, to all proper intents
and purposes, be as dead as its author, without being
a whit less celebrated than ever. In fact, it would
appear as if ceasing to be read were exactly what gave
the best assurance of immortality: an author is never
safe till then.

The same dread of being thought inferior in learn-
ing and taste to one's neighbours, may be frequently
observed, when a Latin or Greek quotation is intro-
duced into conversation. Nobody can dare to appear
non-intelligent on such occasions. The quotation, so
far from being pat, might bear a contrary sense, or
be otherwise inapplicable; but no one would question
it. It is related that Sheridan clenched an argument
in the House of Commons by a professed quotation
from a Greek author, which, though a mere piece of
jargon with the sound of Greek, was received with
the greatest respect, assented to in particular terms,
by one honourable member, and only discovered to be
what it was by the witty author himself. In reality,
very few are able to follow or catch the meaning of a
few sentences spoken in a learned language. But then
all must appear as apt as these few. And thus there
is sometimes a wonderfully general appearance of
learning, at the expense of a little candour.

able. To be able to answer demands made in this
manner, the banker would require to keep the depo.
sits in his desk, without attempting to put them to
use, or to realise an interest from them; but, from the
very fact of his stipulating for interest, it is clearly
understood by the depositing party that this is not the
way in which he expects his money to be treated.
In polite assemblages, the case of the purblind coun-
Totally forgetful, however, of every honourable con-
tess who paid her compliments to the coal-skuttle in-
sideration, wild only for their money, in pour the stead of the infant of the lady she was visiting, is re-
whole troop upon the unfortunate banker, whom they peated in many various forms. Where many are
both require to give his bread to be eaten and yet to speaking, and servants perhaps are creating some ad-
have it, and whom accordingly they expose to that ditional confusion by bringing and taking away dishes,
very derangement of affairs which they causelessly innumerable remarks fall to the ground even between
dread. That such a proceeding endangers the for-persons sitting very near to each other; but never is
tunes of the later applicants, never stands for a mo-
ment before the thought of one of the first. Let me
make myself safe, and no matter how many should
be worsted: such is the maxim which, on such occa-
sions, will animate men at other times able to resist
many selfish impulses, and to perform very generous

actions.

ma

any one wanting in a gracious assent to what is, or seems to be, said. Sometimes the speaking party is troubled on such occasions with a "sir ?" or 66 dam ?" which not unfrequently fails to produce a distinct enunciation of the sentence. But as a second request of this kind would be troublesome iteration, the hearing party must then hear at all hazards, and, The readiness of mankind to take upon trust the by some phrase, gesture, or play of features, as nearly merits of illustrious deceased authors, is a weakness appropriate as he can guess to the nature of the rewhich has been alluded to by Dr Thomas Brown. The mark, set the matter at rest. To form a conjecture fame and supposed excellence of these writers are so of meaning in these exigencies, requires some tact. overpowering, that the thousands who are unacquainted Some blundering people will reply with a pleased exwith their works never think of doubting, and thus it pression to what was intended to draw forth their inis quite possible for an author to have ceased altoge- dignation, or to a question with the "indeed!" pro. ther to be read, and yet to be very generally praised. per to a statement of fact. But those who can read Dante is one of the poets whom every body allows to faces and interpret the language of the eyes, are less be most admirable, while very few are practically con- apt to go wrong, especially if, by a combination of dif versant with his writings. Let some one who knows ferent kinds of expression, they can contrive to preDante-nay, let some one who does not know him- serve a prudent equivocalness. I have known men who, make an allusion to him, every individual in company in answering something they did not hear, could throw will put on a face of intelligence and sympathetic ap- assent, doubt, denial, surprise, and satisfaction, toge preciation, as if he had every verse of the Divinether with a hybrid of shrug and bow, all into one.

PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.

But these, it must be owned, were artists of uncommon skill-regular diners-out. The ladies have a very pretty way of getting out of such scrapes by a peculiar simper, which, being applied to all remarks whatever, heard or unheard, whether referring to love or villany, to accidents costing hundreds of lives, or schemes for restoring the lost innocence of mankind, passes without challenge, and really saves a great deal of trouble to all parties.

Till an extraordinary thing has been done, man. kind at large believe it to be impossible: when some one has done it, they wonder why it was not done before. While the weather is fine, mankind speak of it as if they believed it would never again be foul: let but a sunny shower fall, they immediately surmise that it is broken, and will not again for a long time be good. For this reason, no umbrellas are ever sold in fair weather, nor light dresses ordered in the latter raw days of spring. But all at once, on some oppressively hot day which has suddenly occurred in the course of May, the whole world flies upon ginghams and nankeens, which cannot be prepared nearly fast enough for the demand, though a little foresight might have allowed the milliners and tailors to execute their work at leisure. Shops and theatres are apt to be most frequented when it is reported of them that they are crowded with excess of custom. We fly from places where we can transact business and receive entertainment at our ease, and rush to others where we cannot do either without great inconvenience, if not some risk to health itself. A bo k-auctioneer whom we congratulated one day upon the respectability of his companies, and the high prices which he obtained for the property entrusted to him, assured us that the companies were a consequence of the prices: sales at which books were understood to be generally cheap, were apt to be neglected. It seemed to him to be altogether a matter of excitement. The high prices at once attracted customers, and prompted them to bid. Individuals valued the articles because they saw others value them, and a contagious briskness (which in the opposite circumstances would have been a contagious languor) pervaded the assembly. That mankind be come indifferent to what they are accustomed to, and are perpetually desirous of novelty, has always been matter of remark; but many of the little absurdities into which they are led by this passion, have been overlooked. How often do we see a decorative object of real elegance covered up and disgraced by something paltry, but new! How often do we find ourselves neglecting the treasured wisdom of ages and the most refined modern literature, to grub amongst the very dregs of a newspaper !

In making a bargain for something of uncertain value, who is not conscious of often offering a sum which, if less had been asked, he would have thought exorbitant? Let much, in any case, be demanded, and, provided the demand be vigorously supported, it is ten to one that much more will be conceded than if the claim had been moderate. Mankind are not yet sufficiently rational or sufficiently wedded to the spirit of justice, to give an effectual resistance to any strongly urged claim, however ill founded. Nay, try to pass off any gross absurdity upon them-for instance any outrageously erroneous opinion-and a very great proportion will be found ready to concede to something less grossly absurd, or less outrageously wrong. The demand establishes itself with them to a certain extent as a just claim, and, when they can get off for something less, they think themselves negatively gainers, and eagerly close the negotiation. In argumentative conversation, men often take most unreasonable and deceitful courses. You may be

quite overpowered by the general strength of the op-
posite side of the question, when, let but the most
trifling error be made in point of fact by your adver.
sary, you may, by a judicious use of that slip, easily
redeem your cause. Overlooking every thing else,
you instantly seize upon the error, which of course
you speak of in round terms as errors, and, triumph.
antly asking what faith is to be placed in such state-
ments, you have nothing to do but look around for a
decision in your favour. It is an extraordinary case
indeed which does not admit of some exceptions. Watch
for these, make the most of them, keep the general
merits of the question out of sight, and, though you
have not a tenth of the justice on your side which the
other party has, you will be a poor pleader if you do
not at least arrest judgment. For defending hardly
tenable points, there is another happy way, founded
upon the same principle with that which induces man-
kind to concede something to a large and bold de-
mand. Instead of allowing that your point can be
disputed, exaggerate its features-ask a great deal
more-set up by its side some superfluous absurdity of
the same kind. The enemy, of course, has to remove
or reduce these exaggerations in the first place; and
it is ten to one that this duty so worries him, that he
is glad to leave the main sophistry untouched in your
hands.
Every one must have remarked the easy success of
any kind of evasive answer. Be the intention of the
question as pointed, and its terms as precise, as may
be, if the questioned party can only say something,
no matter how vague, or apart from the purpose, the
questioner is seldom able, at least for a time, to bring
his artillery again to bear upon the subject. The uni-
versal horror of iteration deters him. With equal
weakness, we find people accounting for their conduct
by reasons which are any thing but reasons. A little
girl came to her mother, and said, "Mamma, I have
given some flowers from the garden to a miss, who
said she wished them because she was to have a party.'
"Well, my dear, you had no right to give away the
flowers, and ought not to have done it."
66 But,
mamma, she was to have a party." Exactly similar
are the reasons presented by many adult persons, to
themselves and others, for taking some of the most
serious steps in life. The mere sound of a because is

enough for them.

calculated to arrest our attention: and its feet are
not less remarkably accommodated to the road over
which it travels, than is the structure of its stomach
to the drought of the region through which that road
passes. The foot of the camel, in fact, is so formed
that the animal would be incapable of travelling, with
any ease or steadiness, over either a rough or a stony
surface; and equally incapable is it of travelling for
any long continuance over moist ground, in couse-
quence of the inflammation produced in its limbs from
the effect of moisture. It is observed by Cuvier, that
these circumstances in its physical history, and not
the incapability of bearing a colder temperature, ac-
count for the fact, that, while the sheep, the ox, the
dog, the horse, and some other species, have accom-
panied the migrations of man, from his aboriginal seat
in central Asia to every habitable part of the globe,
the camel still adheres to the desert.

And now observe how its interior structure meets
the difficulty of a region where water is rarely found.
As in the case of all other animals which ruminate or
chew the cud, the stomach of the camel consists of
several compartments; of which one is divided into
numerous distinct cells, capable of collectively con-
taining such a quantity of water as is sufficient for
the ordinary consumption of the animal during many
days. And, as opportunities occur, the camel in-
stinctively replenishes this reservoir, and is thus en-
abled to sustain a degree of external drought, which
would be destructive to all other animals but such as
have a similar structure.

Of the two species of camel, the Bactrian and Ara. bian, the latter is that with the history of which we are best acquainted; and though there is reason to believe, that, whatever is said of the qualities of the one might with truth be affirmed of the other also, on the present occasion whatever is said is referable to the Arabian species. The camel not only consumes less food than the horse, but can sustain more "fatigue. A large camel is capable of carrying from seven to twelve hundredweight, and travelling with that weight on its back at the rate of above ten leagues in each day. The small courier camel, carrying no weight, will travel thirty leagues in each day, provided the ground be dry and level. Individuals of each variety will subsist for eight or ten successive days on dry thorny plants; but after this period require more nutritious food, which is usually supplied in the form of dates and various artificial preparations though, if not so supplied, the camel will patiently continue its course, till nearly the whole of the fat, of which the boss on its back consists, is absorbed; whereby that protuberance becomes as it

Such are a few of the minor foibles of mankind, described in terms, pointed perhaps, but I would hope not harsh or unduly sarcastic. To describe such foibles, is a task which surely no well-disposed person would undertake, except in the hope of correcting or lessening them by bringing them under notice. Alas, how little occasion has any of us to set himself up in judgment of the errors or ridicule of the weaknesses of his brethren, when he who pens these remarks can hardly say in how great a degree he has been enabled to do so, by a retrospective view of his own life, and an unsparing inspection of his own nature!

THE CAME L.

[From Kidd's Bridgewater Treatise.]

Or all animals, the camel perhaps is most exactly adapted both to those peculiar regi ns of the earth in which it is principally if not exclusively found, and to those purposes for which it is usually employed by man: to whose wants indeed it is so completely accommodated, and apparently so incapable of existing without his superintendence, that while on the one hand we find the camel described in the earliest re

were obliterated.

The camel is equally patient of thirst as of hunger; and this happens, no doubt, in consequence of the supply of fluid which it is capable of obtaining from the peculiar reservoir contained in its stomach. It possesses moreover a power and delicacy in the sense of smell (to that sense at least such a power is most naturally referable), by which, after having thirsted for seven or eight days, it perceives the existence of water at a very considerable distance; and it manifests this power by running directly to the point where the water exists. It is obvious that this faculty is exerted as much to the benefit of their drivers, and the whole suite of the caravan, as of the camels themselves. Such are some of the leading advantages derived to man from the physical structure and powers of this animal; nor are those advantages of slight moment which are derived from its docile and patient disposition. It is no slight advantage, for instance, considering the great height of the animal, which usually exceeds six or seven feet, that the camel is easily taught to bend down its body on its limbs in order to be laden; and, indeed, if the weight to be placed on With scarcely any natural means of defence, and its back be previously so distributed as to be balanced nearly useless in the scheme of creation (as far as we on an intervening yoke of a convenient form, it will can judge), unless as the slave of man, it forms a re- spontaneously direct its neck under the yoke, and afmarkable parallel to the sheep, the ox, and other of terwards transfer the weight to its back. St Hilaire the ruminating species; which are also rarely, if ever, and Cuvier, from whom the substance of much of the found, but under the protection of man, and to that preceding account is taken, assert, that, if after havprotection alone are indebted, indeed, for their existing laid down and received the intended freight, the ence as a distinct species. Let us compare, then, the form and structure, and moral qualities of the camel, with the local character of the regions in which it is principally found; and with the nature of the services exacted of it by man.

cords of history, and in every subsequent period, as in a state of subjugation to man, and employed for precisely the same purposes as at the present day; on the other hand, it does not appear that the species has ever existed in a wild or independent state.

The sandy deserts of Arabia are the classical country of the camel; but it is also extensively employed in various other parts of Asia, and in the north of

Africa; and the constant communication that exists between the tribes which border on the intervening sea of sand, could only be maintained by an animal possessing such qualities as characterise the camel-"the ship of the desert," as it has emphatically been called. Laden with the various kinds of merchandise which are the object of commerce in that region of the world, and of which a part often passes from the most easterly countries of Asia to the extreme limits of western Europe, and from thence even across the Atlantic to America, this extraordinary animal pursues its steady course over burning sands during many successive weeks. And not only is it satisfied with the scanty herbage which it gathers by the way, but often passes many days without meeting with a single spring of

water in which to slake its thirst.

In explanation of its fitness as a beast of burden, for such desert tracts of sand, its feet and its stomach are the points in its structure which are principally

camel should find it inconveniently heavy, it will not
rise till a part has been taken off; and that when fa-
tigued by long travel, it will proceed more readily and
easily if the driver sing some familiar tune. This,
however, is a quality not peculiar to the camel.

Considered only thus far in its history, the camel
easily stands pre-eminent, as the most useful, among
all the species of ruminating animals, in the bodily
or mechanical services which it renders to man; it is
almost indeed the rival of the horse, even when com-
pared in a general point of view; but more than its
rival in its particular arena, the desert. The reindeer
assists the individual wants of the Laplander by con-
veying his sledge over the frozen surface of the snow;
and the ox, on a more enlarged scale of labour, is
employed in some countries in ploughing, or in the
draught of heavy weights; but the camel was from
time immemorial, up to a comparatively recent pe-
riod, almost the sole intermedium of the principal part
of the commerce of the whole world. Thus the spices
and other rich merchandise of the East, being brought
to the confines of Arabia, were conveyed on the backs
of camels across the desert, and thence finding their
way to the trading cities of Phoenicia, while they yet
flourished-and subsequently, after their destruction
or decay, to Alexandria-they were distributed over
the continent of Europe, enriching whole nations by

the profits of the mere transfer; for thus Venice became not only the mistress of the Adriatic and Mediterranean, but in a measure the arbitress of the whole world.

Although the route by the Cape has in a great measure superseded that by Alexandria, the commercial intercourse carried on by means of the camel between opposite confines of the African and Asiatic deserts, is still sufficiently extensive to make the importance of that animal very considerable; so that even now, as ages and ages since, the riches of an individual are estimated by the number of camels he may possess; and he still uses his camels either in war, or for the transport of merchandise, or for the purpose of selling them.

But it would be found, upon pursuing the history of the camel, that, while under the point of view which has been just considered, this animal contributes more largely to the advantages of mankind than any other species of the ruminating order, it scarcely is inferior to any one of those species with respect to other advantages, on account of which they are principally valuable. Thus the Arab obtains from the camel not only milk and cheese and butter, but he ordinarily also eats its flesh, and fabricates its hair into clothing of various kinds. The very refuse indeed of the digested food of the animal is the principal fuel of the desert; and from the smoke of this fuel is obtained the well-known substance called sal ammoniac, which is very extensively employed in the arts; and of which indeed, formerly, the greater part met with in commerce was obtained from this source alone, as may be implied from its very name.

THE INTEMPERATE.

[The following simple and affecting story is abridged from a toJuine of Sketches (Philadelphia, 1834), by Mrs Sigourney, an American authoress of rising reputation. Like our American brethren of the press, who lose no opportunity of spreading a knowledge of the productions of English writers, we always feel pleasure in being able to present our readers with specimens of the current and popular literature of the States;-such an interchange of cour tesies, and the mutual indulgente in feelings which these cour te sies excite, being in our opinion one of the happiest means of drawing more closely together two great kindred nations in the bonds of affection and esteem.]

WHERE the lofty forests of Ohio, towering in unshorn
majesty, cast a solemn shadow over the deep verdure
of beautiful and ample vales, a small family of emi.
grants were seen pursuing their solitary way. They
travelled on foot, but not with the aspect of mendi-
cants, though care and suffering were variably de-
picted on their countenances. The man walked first,
apparently in an unkind, uncompromising mood.
The woman carried in her arms an infant, and aided
exhaustion.
the progress of a feeble boy, who seemed sinking with

An eye accustomed to scan the neverresting tide of emigration, might discern that these pilgrims were inhabitants of the Eastern States, probably retreating from some species of adversity, to one of those imaginary scenes, among the shades of the far West, where it is fabled that the evils of mortality have found no place.

James Harwood, the leader of that humble group. who claimed from him the charities of husband and of father, halted at the report of a musket; and while he entered a thicket, to discover whence it proceeded, the weary and sad-hearted mother sat down upon the grass. Bitter were her reflections during that interval of rest among the wilds of Ohio. The pleasant New England village from which she had just emi. grated, and the peaceful home of her birth, rose up to her view-where, but a few years before, she had given her hand to one, whose unkindness now strewed her path with thorns. By constant and endearing attentions, he had won her youthful love, and the two first years of their union promised happiness. Both were industrious and affectionate, and the smiles of their infant in his evening sports or slumbers, more than repaid the labours of the day.

But a change became visible. The husband grew inattentive to his business, and indifferent to his fireside. He permitted debts to accumulate, in spite of the economy of his wife, and became morose and offended at her remonstrances. She strove to hide, even from her own heart, the vice that was gaining the ascendancy over him, and redoubled her exertions to render his home agreeable. But too frequently her efforts were of no avail, or contemptuously rejected. The death of her beloved mother, and the birth of a second infant, convinced her that neither in sorrow nor in sickness could she expect sympathy from him to whom she had given her heart, in the simple faith of confiding affection. They became miserably poor, and the cause was evident to every observer. In this distress, a letter was received from a brother, who had been for several years a resident in Ohio, mentioning that he was induced to remove farther westward, and offering them the use of a tenement which his family would leave vacant, and a small portion of cleared land, until they might be able to become purchasers.

Poor Jane listened to this proposal with gratitude. She thought she saw in it the salvation of her hus. band. She believed that if he were divided from his intemperate companions, he would return to his early habits of industry and virtue. The trial of leaving native and endeared scenes, from which she would once have shrunk, seemed as nothing in comparison with the prospect of his reformation and returning happiness. Yet, when all their few effects were converted into the waggon and horse which were to con

Their road during the day, though approaching the small settlement where they were to reside, lay through a solitary part of the country. The children were faint and hungry; and as the exhausted mother sat upon the grass, trying to nurse her infant, she drew from her bosom the last piece of bread, and held it to the parched lips of the feeble child. But he turned away his head, and with a scarcely audible moan, asked for water, which she had not to give.

The sun was drawing towards the west, as the voice of James Harwood was heard, issuing from the forest, attended by another man with a gun, and some birds at his girdle. "Wife, will you get up now, and come along? We are not a mile from home. Here is John Williams, who went from our part of the country, and says he is our next-door neighbour." Jane received his hearty welcome with a thankful spirit, and rose to accompany them. The kind neighbour took the sick boy in his arms, saying, "Harwood, take the baby from your wife; we do not let our women bear all the burdens, here in Ohio." James was ashamed to refuse, and reached his hands towards the child. But, accustomed to his neglect or unkindness, it hid its face, crying, in the maternal bosom. "You see how it is. She makes the children so cross, that I never have any comfort of them. She chooses to carry them herself, and always will have her own way in every thing."

"You have come to a new settled country, friends," said John Williams; "but it is a good country to get a living in. Crops of corn and wheat are such as you never saw in New England. Our cattle live in clover, and the cows give us cream instead of milk. There is plenty of game to employ our leisure, and venison and wild turkey do not come amiss now and then on a farmer's table. Here is a short cut I can show you, though there is a fence or two to climb. James Harwood, I shall like well to talk with you about old times and old friends down east. But why don't you help your wife over the fence with her baby ?" "So I would, but she is so sulky. She has not spoke a word to me the whole day. I always say, let such folks take care of themselves till their mad fit is