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the crystals be. If it be agitated, the crystals will has been discovered by observation that crystals are be produced more rapidly, but their shape will not composed of an assemblage of layers, which, setting be so regular. Bodies do not all assume the crystal-out from the primitive form, "decrease in extent, says Dr Ure, "both on all sides at once, and sometimes in certain particular parts only. This decrement is effected by regular subtractions of one or more rows of integrant molecules; and the theory, in deter. mining the number of these rows by means of calculation, succeeds in representing all the known results of crystallisation, and even anticipates future discoveries, indicating forms, which, being still hypothetical only, may one day be presented to the inquiries of the philosopher." A simple example will serve to illustrate this principle of decrement. Supposing the primitive form to be a cube, it is easily conceivable that on each of the six sides of this solid may be reared a series of decreasing layers, composed entirely of cubical particles, each layer diminishing on each of its edges by one row of the minute cubes of which it consists. The lamina or layers thus decreasing as they recede from the base on which they rest until the apex consist of a single particle, it is obvious that, on each side of the cube, a four-sided pyramid will be formed, making in all six four-sided pyramids, and of course twenty-four triangles. These taken together constitute twelve rhombs, and the figure will be a dodecaedron, which is very different from the primitive form.

married, as well as a temporary consequence in setting up house, which, even where neither party is at all elevated by the match, is apt to give them some rather ambitious views. They also, somewhat incon-line form with the same facility, some doing so easily, sistently, entertain fixed intentions of economy. They others with much difficulty, and various circumstances are not going to have great loads of company-only a also tend to promote or retard the process. There is few very genteel friends now and then. Indeed, they a curious phenomenon connected with the crystallisahave always looked forward to each other's society as tion of Glauber's salt. If a warm solution of this subwhat was to give the chief charm to the connubial state; stance be poured into a glass globe which it just fills, and the lady for her part declares, that she does not care and the mouth be closely covered with a piece of double though she should henceforth hardly see a single soul bladder moistened, it will not crystallise even when besides her husband. These notions introduce at the cold, provided it has not been disturbed. If, how. very first an exclusive feeling, which cannot be carried ever, the bladder be opened, or a small crystal of the into effect without much pain, and perhaps some re- same salt thrown in, or the surface be touched with a monstrances from kinsfolk-the eternal friends-one metallic point, crystallisation will instantly commence of whom takes offence at the rejection of the William-at the top, and extend downwards in a very singular sons, another at the overlooking of the Lawrences, manner, converting the whole fluid contents into a and a third at the open disrespect shown for pleasant solid form. It is a very remarkable fact, that if, in old Mrs Johnson, till all is again in a flame, and the crystallising this salt and a few other substances, pair, finding themselves deprived of all independency the process be conducted in a dark room, light is obof will, at the time when they are most disposed to served to be emitted. exercise it, fret themselves out of all comfort, and al- We are indebted for what is generally considered most wish they were still unwed. In addition to all the true theory of crystallisation to M. Haüy, a celethis, there is the chance of the lady not liking some of brated Frenchman, who raised himself from being a those friends whom the husband has introduced, and singing boy in a cathedral to an equality with Laof the gentleman slighting those of the lady, and the place and Cuvier. By his unwearied researches, this difficulty, at the very best, of causing them to amalga-philosopher discovered that there is in all crystals mate properly when they happen to meet-for just as a primitive form, or nucleus, which is invariable in surely as that there must be some presumed disparity in each substance; and that these nuclei, by being va Hauy enumerates four different laws of decrement, the condition of the parties themselves, will there be riously disposed with relation to each other, give rise which explain, by the modifications of which they are a disparity in the status of their respective troops of to the different secondary forms which the same crys susceptible, all the varieties of form under which crysacquaintances. Altogether, there is usually a very tal is found frequently to present. Happening one tals present themselves to us. In works upon this pretty amount of troubles and perplexities on account day to let fall from his hand a beautiful specimen of subject, a great many examples are usually given, in of the acquaintances. calcareous spar, crystallised in prisms, the mineral was which these laws, as laid down by the discoverer, are They are not yet done, however, with the kinsfolk. broken, and a number of new crystals, differing en-shown to harmonise with the appearances of nature. Mothers-in-law and sisters-in-law and brothers-in- tirely in form from the prism, presented themselves These, however, would not suit this place. It is suflaw have to be conciliated and made real friends of to the astonished eyes of M. Haüy. He picked up ficient to observe, that, from the variety of ways in on both sides; a task requiring so much abject defer- one, and examining its surfaces, angles, and inclina- which the primitive forms may group themselves toence and such persevering attentions, that not one tions, he found them identical with those of Iceland gether, the number of secondary forms which may person in a hundred will accomplish it without tiffs spar, which are rhomboidal. (A rhomb is a four- possibly exist is immense, and must far exceed what and storma innumerable. This is a trouble usually sided figure, having two opposite angles acute, and have been observed. With regard to the union of the most trying for the lady, and the first of the above- two obtuse.) A new world of observation and disco- ultimate atoms with each other, Haüy supposed that mentioned relations is that from whom she generally very was now opened up to him. Retiring to his the same faces and the same edges were always atsuffers most. It is not apparently in human nature, cabinet, he took a piece of spar, crystallised in the form tracted to each other in the same body; and that the except in very rare circumstances, for a woman to of a six-sided pyramid, broke it, and found still the faces and edges being different in different bodies, the take kindly to her daughter-in-law. An injury is same geometrical figure. The fragments also which result was, in connection with the laws of decrement felt at the very first to have been inflicted, which to fell from it were small rhomboids. The importance above noticed, the great variety of forms which crystals "forgive" would be indeed "divine." Under the in- of the discovery at once flashed upon his mind, and, assume. A question here arises, By what invariable fluence of this feeling, the elder party can hardly, by like Archimedes of old, when starting from the bath power of attraction are the same faces and edges drawn any degree of philosophy in herself, or virtue in the when the idea of specific gravity occurred to him, M. towards each other with such never-failing certainty? other, by any amount of proffered affection, or any Haüy exclaimed "All is found!" The molecules or Supposing Haüy's theory regarding the primitive sum of advantages which the world may suppose the ultimate parts of calcareous spar have all the same atoms to be correct, there is no other conceivable way bride to have brought into the family, be induced to form; it is by being variously grouped that the va- of accounting for phenomena, but by supposing that treat her as otherwise than an alien and an intruder. rieties of external shape are produced. By examin- the particles are actually endowed with polarity, or She may profess to feel differently, and may thinking a great variety of crystals, he found that this some power similar to it. (Polarity will be found that she does; but nature is nature, and four of every was a law of nature which universally prevailed. thoroughly explained in the article on Magnetism, in five, in their secret hearts, justify that remarkable Each of them was found to have an identical consti- No. 160 of the Journal.) The existence of this power principle in our old ballads, which invariably repre- tuent part or molecule, a nucleus or primitive form in masses of matter has been completely proved, but sents mothers-in-law as odious in that relation. always similar to itself, and laminæ or accessory layers that it may possibly extend to the minutest particles producing all the varieties of secondary form. Haüy of which bodies are composed, is certainly as yet only defines a primitive form of crystal to be "a solid of a a subject of conjecture; but there seems nothing at constant form, inserted symmetrically in all the crys- all improbable in it. tals of the same species, and the faces of which observe In opposition to M. Haüy, Dr Wollaston, a philothe directions of the layers which compose these crys- sopher of great eminence, and one whose opinion on tals." The primitive forms hitherto observed are subjects in which accuracy of experiment and acutereducible to six, viz. the parallelopipedon, whichness of research are concerned, is entitled to the highincludes the cube, the rhomb, and all the solids which est deference, very ingeniously supposes that the pri are terminated by six faces parallel, two and two; the mitive atoms are spheres, not angular, but perfectly tetraedron (four-sided), the octoedron (eight-sided), round bodies, which by mutual attraction have asthe regular hexaedral (six-sided) prism, the dodecae-sumed that arrangement which brings them as near THE particles of a great number of bodies, in passing dron (twelve-sided), with equal and similar rhomboi- as possible to each other. It is clear that if this dal planes, and the dodecaedron with triangular from the liquid to the solid state, arrange themselves planes. The mechanical division of the six primi- ducing polarity amongst the particles, for the simple were the case, there would be no necessity for introin such a way as to produce, not one large solid mass, tive forms of crystals can be carried still farther. attraction of cohesion would answer the purpose perbut a multitude of small bodies, having a certain de- They may always be subdivided in a manner pa- fectly well, there being no necessity for the spheres finite shape, which is alike in all. This process is rallel to their different faces, sometimes in other direc- meeting at certain given points of their surface. As called Crystallisation. The regular figures thus spon is capable of being divided by strokes parallel to tions also. The whole of the surrounding substance an example of Dr Wollaston's theory, suppose we have taneously produced are in scientific language termed those which take place with respect to the primitive centre of each surface, the result would be an octoedron; a square of four balls, with a single ball resting on the polyhedral (literally, many-sided) or geometrical solids, form. If the nucleus be a parallelopipedon, which and by applying two other balls at opposite sides of that is, solids having a fixed form characterised by cannot be subdivided except by blows parallel to this octoedron, the group will represent the acute some term used in geometry, such as hexahedral (six- its faces, like that which takes place with respect rhomboid. Some singular confirmations, or it apsided), and so on. They are called crystals; crystal will be similar to this nucleus itself. But it sometimes thesis, have been observed. "If a piece of alum be to limestone, it is evident that the integrant molecule pears to us only apparent confirmations of this hypoin its original import signifies ice; and ice, sugar, com- happens that the parallelopipedon admits of farther immersed in water," says a writer on this subject, mon salt, and a thousand other substances which sections in other directions than the former. The "and left quietly to dissolve, at the end of about three come under daily observation, are specimens of crys- only limit to this possible subdivision is that placed by weeks the observer will find that it has been unequally tals. Many bodies are found crystallised in their the composition of the substance. To take the case acted upon by the fluid; the mass will present the natural state, most of the solids which compose the of calcareous spar, it may be reduced to a particle be- form of octoedra, and sections of octoedra, as it were, yond which the division cannot be carried without curved or stamped upon its surface. crust of the earth being crystalline. Thus, granite, resolving it into its elements, lime and carbonic acid; a very common rock, consists of crystals of three or at least it may be resolved to a particle, beyond other substances, called quartz, felspar, and mica. which, if its minuteness allowed us to operate upon it, Artificial crystals may be produced in two different it is demonstrable its figure would not change. To ways either by dissolving the substance in warmlysis, Haüy gives the name of integrant particles, and those last particles, the result of the mechanical anawater, and allowing the solution (as the dissolved sub- their union constitutes the crystal. Their forms, so stance is named) to cool gradually; or by merely melt- far as experiment has been carried, are three: the ing it by fire, and allowing it to solidify slowly as in tetraedron, the simplest of the pyramids; the trianguthe other case. Solids, fluids, and vapours, are all ca- lar prism, the simplest of prisms; and the parallelpable of assuming the crystalline form. If sulphur, opipedon, the simplest of solids which have their faces parallel, two and two. M. Haüy thinks it probable that the molecules are those which are suspended in the fluid in which the crystallisation takes place. There seems no reason to doubt that it is between these that the attraction is immediately exerted. Having thus ascertained the primitive forms, and those of the integrant particles, it remains for us to ascertain how the same primitive form and molecule should give rise to a variety of secondary forms. It

Such are a few of the more common vexations of the newly married, and it must be allowed that they form a strange enough introduction to a condition which not only perfects immediate happiness, as far as that is possible in this sphere of being, but is the foundation of all those affections by which we are elevated, purified, and blessed through life.

POPULAR INFORMATION ON SCIENCE.
CRYSTALLISATION.

and several of the metals, be melted and allowed to cool, they will crystallise. The reduction of water to a low temperature, and its consequent change into beautiful crystals, is familiar to all. Various vapours also, as that into which camphor is converted by heat, will change into crystals when cold. The more slowly that a body cools, the more perfect will the form of

This appearance is produced when the attraction of the water for the solid is nearly counterbalanced by its mechanical texture. The crystals formed by this species of dissection are highly curious, from their presents the primitive form, as well as its truncations modifications and relative position, as the same group and decrement. Other salts yield other figures; and by more complicated chemical action, as of acids upon carbonate of lime, the metals, &c., analogous results are obtained. Here, then, instead of dividing a crystal by mechanical force, its structure is gradually deve

loped by the process of solution. In these cases two circumstances are particularly remarkable: the crystals are different, and their forms vary with the different faces of the original mass. In one direction we observe octoedra and sections of octoedra; in another, parallelograms of every dimension, modified with some de. terminate intersections. If in either of these positions we turn the mass upon its axis, the same figure will be perceived at every quadrant of a circle; and if we sup

pose the planes combined, they will mutually intersect each other, and various geometrical solids will be constructed. In this way alum alone furnishes octoedra, tetraedrous cubes, four and eight-sided prisms, either with plane or pyramidal terminations, and rhombic parallelopipedons."

In every theory of crystallisation, one condition must necessarily be fulfilled, namely, that the various secondary forms may be shown to arise out of certain primary dispositions and arrangements of constituent atoms; the different modifications being the result of merely abstracting certain individuals from the congeries, without altering the original relative position of those which remain. It appears to us that either of the theories which we have given may do this. But without dwelling longer on these abstruse speculations, we will offer a few general remarks on crystallisation. Many saline bodies, when they crystallise, combine with a considerable quantity of water, which is called the water of crystallisation. Some bodies which dissolve in small quantity in cold water are found to be very soluble in hot water; but when the water cools, it is no longer capable of holding them in solution. Other substances are equally soluble in hot or in cold water. These substances do not crystallise by cooling the fluid; it is by reducing the latter by evaporation, when regular crystals will be produced. To insure success in conducting the process of crystallisation, it ought to be conducted in flat-bottomed vessels, and vessels of glass or porcelain are preferable to every other. The most complete set of observations on this branch of practical chemistry has been made by M. Le Blanc, a French chemist. To obtain crystals of large size, his method is to employ flat glass or china vessels; to pour into these the solutions boiled down to the point of crystallisation; to select the weakest of the small crystals formed, and put them into vessels with more of the mother-water of a solution that has been brought to crystallise confusedly; to turn the crystals at least once a-day, and to supply them from time to time with fresh mother-water. If the crystals be laid on their sides, they will increase most in length; if on their ends, most in breadth. When they have ceased to grow larger, they must be taken out of the liquor, or they will soon begin to diminish. It may be observed in general, that very large crystals are less transparent than those that are small.

In conclusion, it may be remarked that M. Haüy applied the principle of crystallisation which he had discovered, in a new and remarkable manner, to the ascertaining of the composition of minerals. If, reasoned he, each substance has a characteristic nucleus and constituent molecule, then the component parts of minerals, whose composition is unknown, may be inferred from the form of their crystals; and thus a new and powerful instrument of analysis can be brought to the aid of mineralogical and chemical investigations. It is sufficient to observe, in reference to the conclusions at which he had arrived, that they were satisfactorily established by practical researches, and an ample induction of facts.

STORY OF HOGAN. [From a work illustrative of Irish life and manners, entitled "Tales of my Neighbourhood." by the author of the "Collegians." 3 vols. Saunders and Otley, London, 1835.} WITHIN the last year, the annals of our neighbourhood have furnished us with a singular instance of the force of that moral instinct which is so mysteriously interwoven by Providence with the inmost faculties of our nature, and whose internal monitions, habitual depravity itself has scarce the power wholly

to subdue.

A man named Hogan dwelt, about twenty years ago, in a small cottage on the by-way leading from the village to the common road. The little dwelling has been lately razed to the ground by order of the humane proprietor of the soil, in order that no vestige might remain of what was once the scene of a history so appalling; but long will it be ere the villagers, as they pass the fearful spot, shall cease to point out its site amongst the trees, and shudder at the recollections it recalls. It was the birthplace, as well as the inheritance, of the individual already named. He was the child of parents situated comfortably, considering their rank in life, and received an education somewhat superior to that which usually falls to the lot of a pea. sant's child. Well skilled in such rudiments of knowledge as were taught in the neighbouring village school, instructed in his moral and religious obliga. tions, and even for a time apparently exact in their fulfilment, he was looked upon in his boyhood almost as an ornament to the simple neighbourhood, and mothers and instructors used his name when they would stimulate their pupils to good conduct. Romance and poetry, in their happiest hours of invention, have never presented to the mind a sweeter subject of contemplation than the memory of a well-spent childhood; and the humble can feel it as well as the most cultivated. The subject of our narrative was not studious merely from the want of social sympathy, nor gentle merely from deficiency of natural spirit. He danced seldom, but none danced better. He talked little, but none more to the purpose. He did not often mix with company, but when he did, he was the life and joy of the little society in which he moved.

It is not all at once that the human mind can pass from a life so blameless and so tranquil as we have described, to actions like that which has made the

name of the unfortunate Hogan a sound of warning in our neighbourhood. The death of his parents, and in particular of his mother, a decent, pious woman, was the first apparent occasion of the change which was afterwards observed in the manners of their son. He was oftener seen at fairs and markets than his business made it necessary, and he did not now return as he was wont after noon, when the business of an Irish fair is over, and its pleasures and its pains begin. The spendthrift, who finds poverty and woe amid the splendour and abundance of a capital, might see in the fate of this humble cottager an exact reflection of the history of his own fortunes. At first, it was but sociability and kindness that led him to loiter in the fair, and spend a trifle in compliment to the neighbour with whom he had bought or sold. By degrees, the tent, the dance, and even at length the fight (the fatal glory of an Irish peasant), began to have their charms, and what was at first amusement, became in a short time passion. The change of character did not even terminate here. As poverty came on apace, a tinge of mingled gloom and recklessness of mind (alarming symptom of internal ruin) began to mingle with his wild and hair-brained gaiety. The more moderate began to shun his company, and the unhappy wretch grew desperate. He drank, gamed, swore, delivered himself up to all the bestial excesses of vulgar dissipation, and became at length the scoff and pity of the adjoining village.

Even here the unhappy Hogan did not arrest his downward progress into ill. Seldom before was our lonely neighbourhood defiled by such instances of depravity as ere long became habitual with him and his accomplices. The decent cottagers and farmers in the vicinity began to complain of pilfered turf-ricks and potato pits, of broken paddocks and sheep-walks invaded in the night, and even of cows and horses stolen, without the possibility of their discovering by whom the mischief was effected. The deed, however, by which the evil progress of this miserable being was brought to a consummation, was of a nature far more heinous.

mind her customary devotions, and, having extinguished the light, lay down to rest. She was awoke from a quiet sleep by the stealthy sounds of feet upon the landing-place outside her chamber door. With out losing an instant, she advanced to the stair-head and demanded who was there. The ruffians rushed upon her, but, possessing both strength of mind and bodily energy, she resisted with her utmost force, while she endeavoured with the loudest shrieks to alarm the inmates of the distant cottages. Perplexed and irritated, the inhuman monsters disregarded the compact they had made at setting out, and the unhappy lady fell a victim to their atrocious passions and her own resolution.

But who can describe the condition of the wretched Hogan's mind when he learned (for he had been left without as a kind of sentinel) that the enormities of the night, already sufficiently hideous, had been sealed by murder? Stunned by the news, it appeared to him for the instant as if till now he had led an innocent life, and this was his first step in actual crime. A burning weight seemed to be laid upon his brain, his sight grew dizzy, and he suffered himself to be hurried along by his companions, without the power of uttering a word, or directing his mind to a single thought but one. There was no resource for safety now but that of instant flight. Their booty, even more ample than they had anticipated, supplied them with abundant means; and before any effectual step could be taken for their apprehension, they were all beyond the reach of the laws which they had violated.

It was not, however, to the promptitude of their flight that they were altogether indebted for their safety. Old Yamon, returning to the hovel in which he lived, began to regret his ungrateful passion, to remember the benefits of his gentle patroness, and to reproach himself for having yielded to his coarse infirmity. After spending a sleepless night upon his couch of straw, disturbed by hideous dreams and causeless fears, he arose at daybreak, and taking his staff, departed for the Grove, impatient for a reconciliation. How great was his surprise to find the Near a grove of fir, at a little distance from the vil-kitchen window broke and the door wide open at that lage, stood a lonesome house, where dwelt an aged early hour! We will not follow him through the lady, supposed to be wealthy, and confiding so far in fearful detail of his discoveries. Let it be enough to the peaceable and honest character of the neighbour- say, that, pale, trembling, and affrighted, he was hood, that she did not even keep a male domestic for found in the act of rushing from the house by the the security of her house. She was kind and chari- maid returning from the wake with some of her comtable, attentive to the poor and sick, and exceedingly panions, who remembered with her the quarrel of the beloved by all around her. There was, in particular, preceding evening, and the menaces with which it one old beggar-man, named Yamon, whom, though had terminated. The beggar was apprehended, exasurly and abusive in his demeanour, she had for many mined, and committed to the county jail. The ciryears supplied with victuals, which he sat and ate cumstances were considered to constitute irresistible upon the steps of her hall door. It was her unfailing evidence, and the unhappy old man was formally exepractice, when her daily meals were ended, to fill a cuted near the scene on which the crime had been plate for her sturdy pensioner, and take it to him with committed. her own hands as he basked in the evening sunshine at her porch, or sought refuge from the winter cold by her kitchen fire. Often had Hogan, in his earlier days, remarked the figure of the aged mendicant sitting on the steps; beheld the green hall door open, the venerable lady appear, discharge her charitable office, exchange a laugh or jest with rough old Yamon, and leave him to enjoy the surplus of her abundance. Often, as he passed the little lawn where he witnessed the quiet scene, did he admire Mrs Maunsel's charity, and would fancy he saw her guardian angel smiling on the act.

One evening, Yamon was unusually surly, and indeed insolent, to his benefactress. He called her abusive names, and found fault with his dinner, which he flung contemptuously to his dog. Pitying the poor creature's infirmity, yet not disposed to encourage his insolence, Mrs Maunsel told him, for his pains, he might go without a dinner on the following day. Custom, it is said, creates a right, as it can create a law. The beggar defied and dared her to keep her word. Finding, however, on the following day that she could be resolute as she was kindly, he went away, uttering a thousand threats, shaking his long staff, and vowing vengeance as deep as ever his gratitude had been before. Some persons who were present reproved him for his insolent passion, and did not fail to keep his menaces in mind.

It happened that, for some weeks before, the memory of the old lady at the Fir Grove had occurred to the mind of Hogan, with emotions widely different from those with which he had once regarded her at his return from labour or from school. The ruffians who were now almost his sole associates, had yet much difficulty in inciting him to join them in an attempt upon the house, on the very night on which the aged beggar-man was refused a dinner. Stimulated by want, and by the threats and taunts of those hardened wretches, he consented to accompany the gang, but on the understanding that no violence should be offered to any individual. They proceeded after dusk to accomplish their detestable mission. The unhappy Hogan never until now had even an idea of the anxiety of mind which attends the commission of heinous crime. He feared the hardened character of his associates, and not without cause.

It was already midnight when they entered the grove of firs that screened the dwelling from the westerly blast. So far was its mild proprietress from apprehending any thing like danger, that she had given permission to her maid, the only servant in the house, to spend the night at a neighbouring wake. Having fastened the doors and windows, she retired to her sleeping chamber, performed with a tranquil |

The tidings of this horrible injustice reached Hogan, in America. His portion of the abominable spoils had enabled him to settle himself in a respectable little shop or store, as it is there denominated, where he managed a thriving trade for several years, the principal portion of his profit being amongst the emigrants and descendants of emigrants from his na. tive isle, who had become settled in his neighbour. hood. One of his customers, not long arrived, in speaking to another of some event which had taken place in our neighbourhood, by way of fixing the period of its occurrence, said, "it had taken place exactly in that year in which old Yamon was hanged for the murder of Mrs Maunsel, of the Grove."

It was well for Hogan that the small green blind which curtained the railing of his little office prevented either of the speakers from observing his confusion. These tidings, while they established his security, added tenfold to the pangs of his remorse. A second murder only now revealed! His former agonies, not yet extinct, though somewhat stilled by time and constant habit, returned upon him now with more than all their early violence. The sense of unrequited justice weighed upon his mind, and filled it with a dull and barren gloom. Some months rolled by, and he sought, in a fervent appeal to religion, a refuge from the dreadful state of mind in which he lived. But repentance without restitution is an idle word. His efforts, though they revealed to him more fully the extent of his transgression, could not quell the torments of an outraged conscience. Whether he walked, slept, ate, or drank, the dreadful figures of the innocent victims seemed to glide before his eyes, and a forewarning of judgment dwelt upon his heart. However he strove to employ his mind about the affairs of ordinary life, and to take an active in terest in those subjects which amused his acquaint ances, his thoughts would invariably revert to the Fir Grove, and to the awful tragedy which it comme< morated.

Drawn by an impulse unaccountable as it was powerful to the very spot with which all his misery was associated, the wretched Hogan disposed of his little trans-Atlantic possession, and returned to his home towards the close of the preceding autumn, after an exile of more than twenty years. It was a bright harvest moon when he reached the village; and with out pausing to make himself known to a single ac quaintance, he immediately proceeded in the direction of the Grove, feeling a relief in the thought that now at least he had it in his power to make some compensa tion to the violated justice of his country. The house was still uninhabited; but the surrounding lands were richly cultivated, and the garden tended with as

nice a care as in the lifetime of its kind proprietress. | mind, ideas of inexhaustible wealth, and conjured up
After surveying with a singular intensity of interest into reality the bardic tales they had heard repeated
the scene which he had so much reason to remember, in their childhood,' many of which rival in gorgeous
he went to his own cottage, which was now in the imagery the romances of the East. The Valley of
possession of a relative. Being readily recognised Diamonds sparkled on the north side of the county of
and welcomed by his kinsman, he obtained from him Wicklow; and now the lofty Croghan, its southern
a most minute detail of all the circumstances attend- boundary, appeared before them as the Golden Moun-
ing the trial and execution of the innocent mendicant. tain. De Latocnaye, a French emigrant, who has
On the following morning he arose early, and went published an account of his rambles through Ireland,
to view the spot on which the poor old man had ex- and who visited the "Wicklow gold mines" imme-
piated so severely his hasty fit of anger. More than diately after the government had placed a guard upon
a month was spent in thus dallying with his internal the ground, says "I was often obliged to ask the
torturer, and inquiring with the intensest interest way, and my demand excited the curiosity of the pea-
into every trivial fact connected with the miserable sants: they quitted their work before they answered
event, to him the most engrossing of all history. Fre- me, asked me some question in my turn, wanted to
quently, in moments of acute remorse, when alone at know if the mine would be soon worked, if government
midnight, he determined that another sun should not had sent me there, and a thousand things of the same
go down on his secret; but with the morning came nature: they soon began to tell me of a person who
fears of earthly punishment, and of earthly disgrace, sent his children there on a Sunday morning after it
which gained for the time an ascendancy above his had rained, and that they brought back gold to the
deeper though more distant terrors. Alas! how few value of twenty guineas. In such cases," M. de La-
of us are not children in this respect!-how few pos- tocnaye truly observes, "the persons who find any
sess the power of mind necessary to enable them to are remembered; and those who lose their time, and
fully estimate the difference between days that are sometimes their life, in a fruitless search, are forgot-
numbered and days innumerable! Thus loitering ten." During the interval which elapsed between
and undecided, he lived from day to day, torn by re- the publicity of the circumstance and the government
morse, yet fearful of ignominy, now taking his hat taking possession of the mine-a period of about two
with the view of delivering himself up to a neighbour-months it is supposed that upwards of two thousand
ing magistrate, and now returning from the very five hundred ounces of gold were collected by the pea-
door of the functionary, repelled by a sudden failure santry, principally from the mud and sand of Ballin-
of the nerves at the immediate view of death.
valley Stream, and disposed of for about L. 10,000-a
sum far exceeding the produce of the mine during the
government operations, which amounted to little more
than L.3500. The gold has been found in pieces of
all forms and sizes, from the smallest perceptible par-
ticle to the extraordinary mass of twenty-two ounces,
which sold for about eighty guineas. "This piece
was irregularly formed; it measured four inches in
its greatest length, and three in breadth; its thickness
varied from half an inch to an inch ;" and a cast of it,
gilt, has been deposited in the museum of Trinity Col-
lege, Dublin. So pure was the gold generally found,
that it was the custom of the Dublin goldsmiths to
put gold coin into the opposite scale to it, and to give
weight for weight.—Landscape Illustrations of Moore's
Irish Melodies.

One morning, after spending a night of horrible anxiety, the conscience-stricken man arose at daybreak, and prayed with floods of tears that heaven might illumine his mind in its perplexity, and give him firmness to act the part which he felt was required of him by justice. Somewhat relieved by thus unburthening his soul, he walked out into a neighbour ing burial-ground, where, as if to familiarise his mind to the thoughts of death, he was accustomed to spend a considerable portion of his time. The morning was still and fine; some cattle browsed amongst the graves, and the wood quests cooed in the boughs of the thick elms that screened the solemn scene of death. The wretched Hogan, filled with thoughts of gloom and of uncertainty, perused the inscriptions on the humble tombstones, and envied the repose of every mouldering corse beneath the sod. On a sudden, a man sprung over the churchyard wall, and ran with the speed of terror by the spot on which he stood. Immediately after, voices were heard, exclaiming, "Stop him! stop him!" and two or three country. men vaulted into the burying-ground. Conscious of hidden guilt, the unhappy Hogan started, and fled involuntarily with his utmost force. He was pursued and seized.

"I have him!" cried the peasant who first laid hand upon his collar. "Ah! scoundrel, you'll see Van Diemen's Land for this! We'll tache you to break paddocks in the night, an' to be sheep stalin'." "Well done, Tom!" cried a red-faced farmer, whose comfortable proportions did not allow him to keep pace with his servants in the chace; "you rascal, where's my sheep? Eh, Tom-what-where's the thief?-this is not he."

"I am the man," said Hogan, pale as death, but with a voice that sounded hollow in its firmness.

"You!" cried the farmer, "you are not the sheep stealer." "I am not the man that stole your sheep," replied Hogan, "but I am one of the men who murdered Mrs Maunsel of the Grove, for which Yamon, the old beggar-man, was hanged unjustly."

This stunning intelligence was received by the group with wonder and dismay. The disclosure of his secret, however, appeared to have removed much of the load which lay upon the mind of Hogan, and in the following autumn he suffered, with less anxiety than he had felt in its remote contemplation, the punishment which the law awarded to his offence.

THE WICKLOW GOLD MINES.

BIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES.
LADY GRIZEL BAILLIE.
But she of gentler nature, softer, dearer,
Of daily life the active, kindly cheerer;
With generous bosom, age or childhood shielding,
And in the storms of life, though moved, unyielding;
Strength in her gentleness, hope in her sorrow,
Whose darkest hours some ray of brightness borrow
From better days to come, whose meek devotion
Calms every wayward passion's wild commotion;
In want and suffering, soothing, useful, sprightly,
Bearing the press of evil hap so lightly,
Till evil's self seems its stronghold betraying
To the sweet witchery of such winsome playing;
Bold from affection, if from nature fearful,
With varying brow, sad, tender, anxious, cheerful→→
This is meet partner for the loftiest mind,

With crown or helmet graced; yea, this is womankind!
Miss Baillie's Metrical Legends.

the Presbyterian forms of worship and church govern-
ment, in which they educated all their children.

GRIZEL HUME-for such was the maiden name of the subject of this memoir-was born, December 25, 1665, at Redbraes Castle, in Berwickshire; a house long since demolished, in order to make room for the more lordly mansion called Marchmont House. She was the eldest daughter of Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth, who subsequently became the first Earl of March. mont. Her mother was Grizel Ker, daughter to Sir Thomas Ker of Cavers; a woman, according to her husband's description, of "a composed, steady, and mild spirit; of a most firm and equal mind, never elevated by prosperity, nor debased or daunted by adversity," and whose "piety, probity, virtue, and prudence, were without blot or stain, and beyond reTRADITION Commonly attributes the original disco-proach." Both parents were zealously attached to very of the Wicklow gold mines to a poor schoolmaster, who, while fishing in one of the small streams which descend from the Croghan mountain, picked up a piece of shining metal; and having ascertained At an early period in the reign of Charles II., Sir it to be gold, he gradually enriched himself, by the Patrick Hume distinguished himself as one of a small success of his researches in that and the neighbour- but faithful band of patriots, who, under the Duke of ing streams, cautiously disposing of the produce of his labour to a goldsmith in Dublin. He is supposed to Hamilton, offered a mild and constitutional resistance to the tyrannical measures of the court. An arbitrary have preserved the secret for upwards of twenty years; but marrying a young wife, he imprudently confided imprisonment of two years, so far from repressing, his discovery to her, and she believing her husband to only seems to have lent new ardour to his spirit, and be mad, immediately revealed the circumstance to her he became a participator in those secret councils by relations, through whose means it soon was made pub. lic. O'Keefe has founded an amusing farce upon the which Russell, Sydney, and other gentlemen of both incident, of course with the embellishments necessary countries, endeavoured to devise means for excluding for dramatic effect. When the story of the gold mine the Duke of York from the succession, for which they became bruited abroad, which was towards the close conceived him to be disqualified by his professing the of the year 1795, and fortunately after the golden Catholic faith. In the summer of 1684, Sir Patrick harvest of autumn had been gathered in, the sensation was warned, by the fate of several of his associates, it produced upon the lower classes is not to be described. Thousands, of every age and sex, hurried that he could no longer safely appear in public; and to the spot. "From the labourer who could wield a he accordingly left his house of Redbraes, and, while spade or pick-axe, to the child who scraped the surface most of the family supposed him to have gone upon a of the rock with a rusty nail," all were eagerly em- distant journey, took up his residence in the sepulployed in searching after gold. The Irish are a people possessed of a quick and rich fancy; and the very chral vault of his family, underneath the neighbourname of a gold mine carried with it, to the ignorant | ing parish church of Polwarth. His wife, his eldest

daughter, and one James Winter, & carpenter, alone knew of his retreat, to which the last-mentioned individual was employed to convey, by night, a bed and bed-clothes, while Grizel, now in her nineteenth year, undertook the duty of supplying him every night with food and other necessaries. The only light which he enjoyed in this dismal abode was by a slit in the wall, through which no one could see any thing within. Grizel, though at first full of those fears for the places and objects of mortality which are usually inspired into children, soon so far mastered her ordinary sensations, as to be able to stumble through the churchyard at darkest midnight, afraid of nothing but the possibility of leading to the discovery of her father. The minister's house was as usual near the church: at her first visit, his dogs kept up such a barking, as put her in the utmost fear of a discovery. This difficulty was immediately set aside by the ingenuity of Lady Hume, who, under the pretence of a rabid animal having been seen in the neighbourhood, prevailed on the minister next day to hang every dog he had. There was another difficulty in secreting victuals without exciting suspicions among the domestics and younger children. The unfortunate gentleman was fond of sheep's head, and Grizel one day took an opportunity, without being observed by her brothers and sisters, to turn one nearly entire into her lap, with the design of carrying it that night to her father. When her brother Sandy (afterwards second earl of Marchmont) again looked on the dish, and saw that it was empty, he exclaimed, "Mother, will ye look at Grizel ?-while we have been supping our broth, she has eaten up the whole sheep's head !" The incident only served that night as an amusing story for Sir Patrick, who good-naturedly requested that Sandy might have a share of the dish on the next occasion. It was Grizel's custom every night to remain as long with her father as she supposed to be prudent, in order to enliven him by her company; and it would appear that more cheerfulness generally prevailed at these meetings, than is sometimes to be found in scenes of the greatest security and comfort. During the day, his chief amusement consisted in reading Buchanan's version of the psalms, which he thus impressed so thoroughly on his memory, that, forty years after, when considerably above eighty years of age, he could repeat any one at bidding, without omitting a word.

During the time he spent in the vault, Lady Hume and Jamie Winter had been contriving a more agreeable place of concealment in his own house. In one of the rooms on the ground floor, underneath a place usually occupied by a bed, Grizel and Winter dug a hole in the earth, using their fingers alone, to prevent noise, and carrying out the earth in sheets to the garden. The severity of this task may be judged of from the fact, that, at its conclusion, the young lady had not a nail upon her fingers. In the hole thus excavated, Winter placed a box large enough to contain a bed, boring the boards above it with holes for the admission of air. Sir Patrick seems to have octhe box being esteemed as a place to which he could cupied the room, of which his daughter kept the key, resort, in the event of any government party coming to search the house.

Another of the heroic services of Grizel Hume, at this period of her life, was the carrying of a letter viswood, then imprisoned on a charge of treason in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh. Baillie had been an associate of Sir Patrick in the designs which terminated so unfortunately for the Whig party, and it was of the utmost importance to both, that an interchange of intelligence should take place between them. The heroic girl readily undertook this difficult and dangerous business, and managed it with great dexterity, and perfect success. The son of Mr Baillie, a youth about her own age, had been recalled from his educa

from her father to his friend Robert Baillie of Jer

tion in Holland to attend his father's trial. In the gloom of a jail, these two young persons met, and formed an attachment, destined to lead to a happy union. But all contemplation of such an event was for the present clouded. On the 24th of December, in the year just mentioned, Baillie suffered the award of an unrighteous sentence upon the scaffold, and Sir Patrick Hume, too much alarmed to remain any longer in Scotland, proceeded in disguise to London, and finally, by France, into Holland, where a number of other patriots had found refuge. In the ensuing year, he acted as one of the two seconds in command in the unfortunate expedition of the Earl of Argyle,* and once more with great difficulty made an escape to Holland, while his property was forfeited by the government. He now established himself at Utrecht, with his family, and commenced a life of penury formOne child, named Juliana, had been left in Scotland ing a remarkable contrast to his former circumstances. on account of bad health. Some months after settling in Holland, it was thought necessary that this girl

Ochiltree, who, by a remarkable coincidence, also had a daughter named Grizel, to whose heroism and self-devotion he was indebted

The other second in command was Sir John Cochrane of

for his life. The story of this young lady was presented in a partly fictitious form in the 84th number of the Journal.

quantity of plate which they had brought from Scot-
land; but they were ultimately able to take it all back
with them, leaving no debt in the country of their
exile.

And now he gaes daundering about the dykes,
And a' he dow do is to hund the tykes;
The live-lang night he ne'er steeks his ee;
And were na my heart licht, I wad die.
Were I young for thee, as I hae been,
We should hae been galloping doun on yon green,
And linking it blythe on the lily-white lea;
And wow gin I were but young for thee!

ANTIQUITY.

[From Janus; or Edinburgh Literary Almanack, 1826.] THERE is something peculiarly interesting in antiquity, independent of the interest that particular an. tiquities may derive from their own beauty, or even from historical association. A Roman encampment, though it be now but a green mound, and was formerly the seat of mutiny, and, in fact, little better than a den of thieves, is more poetical than a modern barrack, though tenanted by brave Britons, the veterans of Egypt, or the medalists of Waterloo. What more prosaic than a halfpenny of the last coinage ? You can in no ways put a sentiment into it, unless you give it to a child to buy sugarplums, or to a beggar, in defiance of the vagrant laws and the Mendicity Society. But let the grim visages and execrated names of Caligula or Nero be deciphered through the verdant veil of venerable verdigris, and the coins become precious as Queen Anne's farthings, or the crooked sixpence that heretofore served for lovers' tokens. The spirit of ages invests them like a glorycloud.

What are the Pyramids? Huge piles of brick or stone, with square bases and triangular sides, reared by slaves for tyrants to moulder in-standing evidences of heartless pride and heart-withering debasementponderous burdens heaped on mother earth to defraud her of her due.

should be sent for, and Grizel was commissioned to return in order to bring her away. She was entrusted, at the same time, with the management of some business of her father's, and directed to collect what she could of the money that was due to them. All this When the Prince of Orange formed the resolution she performed with her usual discretion and success, of invading England, Sir Patrick Hume entered though not without encountering adventures that warmly into his views, and, by a letter which he adwould have completely overwhelmed the greater part dressed to the Scottish presbyterians, in which he of her sex. After enduring a storm at sea, the terrors passed a warm encomium on the personal character of of which were aggravated by the barbarity of a brutal the prince, was in no small degree instrumental in shipmaster, the two girls were landed at Brill; and gaining for him the friendship of that party. He acfrom thence they set out the same night for Rotter-companied the expedition, shared in its difficulties, dam, in company with a Scotch gentleman whom they and never left the prince's side till he was established accidentally met with. It was a cold, wet night; and in London. High honours, proportioned to his serJuliana Hume, who was hardly able to walk, soon vices and venerated character, now opened upon Sir lost her shoes in the mud. Grizel then took the ailing Patrick. His attainder was reversed, his lands rechild on her back, and carried her all the way to Rot-stored, and himself soon after created a peer by the terdam, while the gentleman, a sympathising fellow title of Lord Polwarth, and invested with the chief exile, bore their small baggage. All these distresses state office of his native country, that of Lord Chanwere forgotten when she once more found herself in cellor. When the new system of things was settled, the bosom of her family. the younger part of the family were sent home under the care of a friend, and Lady Hume and Grizel came over with the Princess of Orange. The princess, now to become queen, wished to retain Grizel near her person, as one of her maids of honour; but, though well qualified for that envied situation, this simple-hearted girl had the magnanimity to decline the appointment, and preferred returning with her friends to Scotland to the scenes and innocent affections of her childhood. Ever since her meeting with Mr Baillie in the Tolbooth of Edinburgh, she had cherished an affection for him, which was warmly returned by him, though, in the days of their exile, it had been concealed from her parents. It was now declared, and, Mr Baillie having also regained his estates, there was no longer any obstacle to their union. They were married about two years after the Revolution, and their felicity during forty-eight years of wedded life seems to have been not disproportioned Such were they when they were new. It would to their uncommon virtues and endowments. Lady have gone against one's conscience to have visited Grizel-for to this designation she became entitled on them. But it is quite otherwise now. They no the elevation of her father in 1697 to the rank of Earl longer belong to Cheops or Sesostris, Pharaohs or of Marchmont-amidst all the glare and grandeur of Ptolemies, Mamelukes or Turks, but to the imaginahigh life, retained the same disinterested singleness of tion of mankind. It were worth a pilgrimage to see heart, and simplicity of manners, which in youth had them, could seeing add any thing to their power. gained her universal regard, and graced her in every But they are so simple both in form and association, station. Her husband seems to have been worthy of so easily, so clearly presentable to the mind's eye, that her and of his name. He filled with great honour it is doubtful whether much would be gained by viewseveral important offices under government, and was ing them with the bodily organs, beyond the satisfacnot more distinguished for his eminent abilities than tion of saying and thinking that one had seen them. for his high-toned integrity. They had two children It were nothing to measure their bases, or take their —Grizel, married to Sir Alexander Murray of Stan- altitude—somewhat tedious to pore over the hierohope, and the author of the narrative to which we are glyphics not very much, except for a savant, to indebted for the materials of this memoir; and Rachel, rummage the interior. But to conceive them, or, afthe common ancestress of the present Earl of Had- ter all, it would be better to see them, standing on dington, and the present Mr Baillie of Jerviswood. the same earth which has entombed so many thouLady Grizel is thus described by her daughter: "Her sand generations, pointing to the self-same sky which actions show what her mind was, and her outward heard the cry of the oppressed when they were buildappearance was no less singular. She was middle-ing; to sink, as in a dream, "through the dark backsized, clever in her person, very handsome, with a life and sweetness in her eyes very uncommon, and great delicacy in all her features; her hair was chestnut, and to her last she had the finest complexion, with the clearest red in her cheeks and lips that could be seen in one of fifteen, which, added to her natural constitution, might be owing to the great moderation she observed in her diet throughout her whole life. Porridge and milk was her greatest feast, and she by choice preferred them to every thing, though nothing came wrong to her that others could eat: water she preferred to any liquor: though often obliged to take a glass of wine, she always did it unwillingly, think ing it hurt her, and did not like it." This admirable woman died on the 6th of December 1746, in the 81st year of her age, having survived her husband about eight years.

Sir Patrick spent three years and a half in Holland. His income was small and precarious, and a fourth part of it was required for the house rent. As he was unable to keep any servant, besides a girl to wash clothes, his heroic daughter performed the greater part of the domestic drudgery, for which purpose she often was up for two nights in the week. According to the simple and affecting narrative of her daughter, Lady Murray of Stanhope," she went to the market, went to the mill to have their corn ground, which, it seems, is the way with good managers there-dressed the linen, cleaned the house, made ready dinner, mended the children's stockings and other clothes, made what she could for them, and, in short, did every thing. Her sister Christian, who was a year or two younger, diverted her father and mother and the rest, who were fond of music: out of their small income they bought a harpsichord for little money. My aunt played and sung well, and had a great deal of life and humour, but no turn for business. Though my mother had the same qualifications, and liked it as well as she did, she was forced to drudge; and many jokes used to pass between the sisters about their different occupations. Every morning before six, my mother lighted her father's fire in his study, then waked him, and got what he usually took as soon as he got up, warm small beer with a spoonful of bitters in it; then took up the children, and brought them all to his room, where he taught them every thing that was fit for their age; some Latin, others French, Dutch, geography, writing, reading, English, &c., and my grandmother taught them what was necessary on her part. Thus he employed and diverted himself all the time he was there, not being able to afford putting them to school; and my mother, when she had a moment, took a lesson with the rest in French and Dutch, and also diverted herself with music. I have now a book of songs, of her writing when she was there; many of them interrupted, half-writ, some broke off in the middle of a sentence: she had no less a turn for mirth and society than any of the family, when she could come at it without neglecting what she thought more necessary."

Her eldest brother Patrick, and her lover Mr Baillie, who suffered under the consequences of his father's attainder, went together into the guards of the Prince of Orange, till such time as they could be better provided for in the army. "Her constant attention," continues Lady Murray, "was to have her brother appear right in his linen and dress: they wore little point cravats and cuffs, which many a night she sat up to have in as good order for him as any in the place; and one of their greatest expenses was in dressing him as he ought to be. As their house was always full of the unfortunate banished people like themselves, they seldom went to dinner without three, or four, or five of them to share with them;" and it used to excite their surprise, that, notwithstanding this hospitality, their limited resources were sufficient, except on rare occasions, to supply their wants.

When subsequently invested with title, and the wife of a wealthy gentleman, the subject of our memoir used to declare that these years of privation and drudgery had been the most delightful of her whole life; a circumstance not surprising, when we consider the gratification which high moral feelings like hers could not fail to derive from exercise of so peculiar a nature. Some of the distresses of the exiled family only served to supply them with amusement. Andrew, a boy, afterwards a judge of the Court of Session, was one day sent down to the cellar for a glass of alabast beer, the only liquor with which Sir Patrick could entertain his friends. On his returning with the beer, Sir Patrick said, "Andrew, what is that in your other hand ?" It was the spigot, which the youth had forgot to replace, and the want of which had already lost them the whole of their stock of alabast. This occasioned them much mirth, though they perhaps did not know where to get more. It was the custom at Utrecht to gather money for the poor, by going from house to house with a hand bell. One night the bell came, and there was nothing in the house but a single orkey, the smallest coin then used in Holland. They were so much ashamed of their poverty, that no one would go out with the money, till Sir Patrick himself at last undertook this troublesome little duty, observing philosophically, "We can give no more than all we have." Their want of money often obliged them to pawn the small

|

If any further exemplification of the simple, lively.
and tender character of Lady Grizel Baillie were
wanting, it would be found in a beautiful pastoral song
of her composition, which has long been in print_
There ance was a may, and she lo'ed na men,
She biggit her bonnie bower down in yon glen;
But now she cries dool and a-well-a-day!
Come down the green gate, and come here away.
But now she cries, &c.

When bonnie young Johnie came over the sea,
He said he saw naething sae lovely as me;
He hecht me baith rings and mony braw things;
And were na my heart licht, I wad die.
He had a wee titty that lo'ed na me,
Because I was twice as bonnie as she;
She raised such a pother 'twixt him and his mother,
That were na my heart licht, I wad die.
The day it was set, and the bridal to be,
The wife took a dwam, and lay down to die ;
She mained and she graned out of dolour and pain,
That he vowed he never wad see me again.
His kin was for ane of a higher degree,
Said, what had he to do wi' the likes of me?
Albeit I was bonnie, I was na for Johnie ;
And were na my heart licht, I wad die.
His titty she was baith wylie and slie,
She spied me as I came o'er the lea;
And then she ran in and made a loud din ;
Believe your ain een an ye trow na me.
His bonnet stood aye fu' round on his brow,
His auld ane looks aye as weel as some's new;
But now he lets't wear ony gate it will hing,
And casts himsell dowie upon the corn-bing.

Sister.

ward and abysm of time;" to fancy them as bearing, uncrushed, the waters of a deluge; this is indeed sublime. There would be nothing sublime in covering the area of Lincoln's Inn Fields (said to be equal in square contents to the base of the great Pyramid) with a fac simile. It would be a piece of lumbering inutility. Parliament, with all its omnipotence, could not endow it with a grant of centuries. It might be voted the tomb of kings, but not the sepulchre of ages.

The Pyramids are particularly happy in their locality. Under our changeful atmosphere, among fields and trees, the ever-varying, self-renewing operations of nature, they would be in too sharp contrast. In a free land of thriving industry they would be out of keeping-they would occupy too much ground, or stand a chance of being pulled down for the value of the materials. But they harmonise admirably with a dewless heaven, a sandy waste, a people that have been. They seem like a remnant of a world that has perished-things which the huge Titans might have built in wantonness, as bovs pile up stones on mountain-heads. There is a sublimity in their uselessness. They should have been made when the earth bore all things spontaneously, before vitality had received its

name.

The Egyptians, of all nations, seem to have built and planned with the most exclusive regard to permanence. They designed to make antiquities. A dim bewildered instinct, a yearning after immortality, was the chief object of all their undertakings. They preferred an unconscious existence, in the form of hideous mummies, to utter dissolution; they feared that the bodiless spirit might lose its personal identity; and expected, or wished, after the expiration of the great cycle, to find all that they had left exactly as they left it the same bodies-the same buildingsthe same obelisks, pointing at the same stars. Strange faith-that the soul, after all varieties of untried being, would return to animate a mummy.

The Greeks built for beauty, the Romans for magnificence, the Orientals for barbaric splendour (the Chinese, indeed, for fantastic finery), the Gothic nations for the sublimity of religious effect, or martial strength; a Dutchman builds to please himself, a sen sible Englishman for convenience, others of that nation, to show their wealth or their taste. But the Egyptian built in defiance of time, or rather propitiated that ruthless power, by erecting him altars whereon to inscribe his victories over all beside.

The Grecian temples and statues are only antique

from the accident of being ruined or mutilated. Had we (and who will say that we never shall have?) artists capable of reproducing them, they would be long as much to the present age as to that of Pericles. The principles of grace upon which they are founded are no more Grecian than British. The Greeks, it is true, had the merit of discovering them; but any one may adopt them who can they are never out of place, never out of date. But a Gothic cathedral is antique though entire; dilapidation is not needful to give it age. Should a modern architect succeed in rivalling the hallowed structures of our forefathers (an event by no means probable), still his workmanship would savour of the times of yore, of other men than we, other manners than ours. We should feel the new stone and stucco-work, the freshness of youth upon the new wonder, somewhat painfully; and, in a fanciful mood, might marvel in what cavern of the earth it had been hidden so many centuries-by what mechanism it had been raised. It is seldom safe to imitate antiquities. An antiquity that is not ancient is a contradiction. It reminds us of something that it is not. The charm is gone. It is like the tragedy of Hamlet with the character of Hamlet omitted. In great works, it is well to keep close to the eternal to that which is never modern, and never can be antique. But it is impossible to exclude the spirit of our own age; and, therefore, to mimic that of another can only produce incongruity.

The same observations apply to books and paintings as to sculpture and architecture. Shakspeare and Homer are of all writers the least antique; Raphael and Titian far less so than Albert Durer. Pierce Ploughman is embronzed with more years than Horace. Hesiod among the Greeks, Ennius among the Latins, have the most of this venerable incrustation.

lier cut-a likeness to the family of Vandykes; and
his manners, without being absolutely antiquated,
should show somewhat of an inherited courtesy. In
all, he should display a consciousness that he is to re-
present something historical, something that is not
of to-day or yesterday-a power derived from times
of yore.
How venerable is the escutcheon of an ancient fa-
mily! How richly it glows in the window of their
parish church! the stained light that gleams through
it is reflected from distant centuries. How awful are
its griffins and wiverns! How mysterious the terms
of heraldry, gules, azure, or—dexter and sinister !—
Apply the same to the newly-purchased coat of a new
gentleman, and they are rank jargon, and the coat
itself an unmeaning daub.

Yet antiquity is not always genteel. The Jewish
nation is the greatest antiquity upon earth. It is a
remnant of a dispensation that has passed away. The
law and the prophets are their family-history. Their
rites and customs, their food, their daily life, are de-
rived from times long anterior to all records but their
own. The Gipsies, as a relic of the old Nomadic life,
may be regarded with somewhat similar, but less me-
lancholy feelings. We know not that they were ever
better than they are, though certainly the tide of
society is daily leaving them farther behind. In the
list of retrograde nations we may mention the Abys.
sinians. All their laws, customs, and forms, declare
that they must once have been a civilised people. At
present they seem to be barbarians, with a few antique
traditions of civilisation-like Indians, armed with
the weapons and clothed in the garments of some
murdered European crew.

An antiquity, in short, to conclude instead of beginning with a definition, is not that which is merely old, but that which has outlived its time-which be. or nature, than that in which it is contemplated. It must not be of the essence of universal nature, for she is ever renewing; nor of pure reason, for that is eternal. Neither must it be a mere whim, an arbitrary fancy or fashion, having no ground in either; but it must be a mode, an emanation of nature a form which she has assumed and laid aside.

As there are some things which never become antique, by virtue of their permanent and catholic ex-longs to another state of society, another age of man cellence, so others are excluded from that character by their worthlessness. The full-bottomed periwig, and the hooped petticoat, are out of fashion; and should they be treasured in museums, or recorded in pictures, till Plato's great year is completed, they will only be out of fashion still. Some people assert that there is no antiquity like that of nature; but this is not true. Nature, indeed, has her antiquities; but they are not the sun, the moon, the stars, nor the everflowing ocean, nor the eternal hills. These are all exempt from time; they never were new; and they

are no older now than at their creation. Nature has her antiquities; for she has some productions which she has ceased to produce; but for her streams and her mountains, her fields and her flowers, I hope they never will be antiquated. An aged tree, especially if shivered by wind or lightning, is certainly a thing of other times. A rock rifted by earthquake-a frag. ment fallen at some far-distant or forgotten period from a mountain-side a deep fissure seemingly rent by some power greater than any which nature is now exerting may fitly be called natural antiquities. So are the mammoth's bones. They tell tales of the planet's vigorous youth; they belong to an order of things different from the present.

But there is nothing in nature, however green and fresh, or perpetually reproduced, which may not be rendered antique by poetry and superstition. Is not the very ground of Palestine and Egypt hoary? Are not the Nile and Jordan ages upon ages elder than Little Muddy River, or Great, Big, Dry River, or Philosophy, Philanthropy, and Wisdom Rivers, which unite to form Jefferson River ? The Jesuits have done something for the Orellana; but even Mississippi (notwithstanding Mr Law and his scheme) is yet in its minority.

Something of this hallowed character invests every plant and animal to which a superstition has attached. The fancies of old poets; love-charms and magic incantations; the dreams of alchymy and astrology; the rites of obsolete religions; the strange fictions and unutterable compounds of the old medicine; the dark tales of philtres and secret poisons; more than all, fireside tradition-have given to many an herb, and bird, and creeping thing, a stamp and odour of auld langsyne. The pansy is still sacred to Oberon and Titania the mistleto is not of our generation-the mandrake is a fearful ghost of departed days-the toad is the most ancient of reptiles, and the raven is “a secular bird of ages." But this imputation of antiquity belongs not to every flower that has been sung in past ages. If they were celebrated merely for beauty or fragrance, or even for such fanciful associations as might occur to any poet at any time, it does not make them antique. The rose and the lily have been time immemorial the poets' themes; yet they are not antiquities their loveliness has no more relation to one age than another.

A smack of the antique is an excellent ingredient in gentility. A gentleman, to be the beate ideal of his order, should live in an old house (if haunted, so much the better), well stocked with old books and old wine, and well hung with family-portraits and choice pieces of the old masters. He should keep all his father's old servants (provided they did not turn modern philosophers), and an old nurse, replete with legendary lore. His old horses, when past labour, should roam at large in his park; and his superannu. ated dogs should be allowed to dose out their old age in the sun, or on the hearth-rug. If an old man, his dress should be forty fashions out of date at least. At any rate, his face should have something of the cava

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NODDERS.

der. If you are an accomplished nodder, you can guard yourself against these annoyances, which may be nodded out of countenance, abashed, frozen, and almost annihilated. I know a beautiful but haughty girl, who, I verily believe, once nodded a forward young man to death. At all events, he never came near her afterwards, and he has not been seen lately where he was the loudest and most presumptuous.

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There is another class, which I shall denominate Freezers. They are generally persons of condition, bank-directors, landholders, men in office, and people who keep carriages. Although this set of Nodders are by no means so disagreeable as the first, they are, nevertheless, sometimes exceedingly provoking. In the civility of your soul, being acquainted with them, and not feeling it any particular honour to have one of your fellow worms acknowledge, by his manner, that he has met you before, you give one a polite good morning, and are mortified in the presence of your friends, by finding that he has not even seen you, and is probably utterly unconscious that such an insignificant crea ture as yourself is in existence. I have noted, how. ever, that these abstracted people, who never can recollect your face in the street, have their memories wonderfully brightened on occasions; and if you can accidentally do them a favour, they will single you out from a crowd at the distance of a quarter of a mile. On common occasions, however, when they do greet you, it is with the air of one who is performing a disagreeable duty. They slowly incline their heads with grave solemnity. You have evidently interrupted an interesting train of thought, and they hope you are well. Their salutations are always rather equivocal to those among their mere speaking acquaintance, who, like myself, are neither rich nor great. Yet even that chilly temperature is much lowered, if you first met them the previous season at one of the places of fashionable summer resort. When a purseproud, ill-bred aristocrat, from the city, is transplanted for a brief period from his soul-killing counting-room to the gentle influences of the country, he forgets for a time his grovelling plans and habits, and is melted, in spite of himself, into something like kindness and feeling. He will light his cigar by yours of an evening; offer civilities at the table; and when you meet in the wood, or by the fall, or at the bubbling spring, his face relaxes into an unwonted smile, and he gives you good day," with a courteous interchange of rican periodical, entitled "the New York Mirror," a work of no [This jeu d'esprit is copied, with some alterations, from an Ame- sentiment that makes you secretly confess "he may small literary merit, which we perceive does us the honour of ochave a soul after all." But do not decide upon that casionally quoting articles from the Journal. For the paragraph question till you come to town again, and then meet within brackets in the following article we are alone responsible.] the man the next autumn or winter. The little touch I AM sometimes a good deal perplexed on the subject of of gentlemanly feeling which crept upon him accidenaddressing my friends properly on the street. There tally in the country, has gone with the leaves and are so many degrees of acquaintance, that to bestow flowers. He has resolved himself again into the eleon each one the same attention would be absurd.ments of gentility and fashion. He would pass you General Washington took off his hat to a negro, but without speaking but for your glance of recognition, every man cannot afford to be so polite. A certain which he answers with reluctant stiffness as if he reart is necessary in repelling impertinent familiarity, collected to have seen your face somewhere, but does and in encouraging worth; in replying to the arro not consider that a sufficient ground for you to claim gance of wealth, and in letting the man of noble cha- the ennobling honour of his acquaintance. If he must racter and talents perceive that you respect him, al. speak to all the fellows he meets in stages and aboard though he be poor; all which may be done by nod- steamboats, he would have a pretty business of it inding. In this a clever man, bred in town, acquires a deed. His nod tells you all this; but if you are not curious facility. He has as many nods as there are scientific in your knowledge of nodding, you overlook varieties in the condition and worth of those around it, and do not "cut him" at your next encounter. him. I have known important friendships and en- Day after day as you pass each other over the worn mities formed by nodding, and a practised eye will and thronged pavements, the nod grows shorter and discover a great deal, by simply watching two persons shorter, and colder and colder. From a bow it pass in the street. If, however, the skill of the intel- dwindles to a stare, from a stare to a glance, till at ligent observer becomes wonderful by the study of length it fades utterly away, and you are again stran. nodding, his amusement, in watching the peculiarities gers. The dying nod, the expiring breath of a feeble of others, is also of a rare description. I flatter my friendship, is a curious specimen of the art, and ama. self a little on this head. I have lived a great deal in teur Nodders should never omit the opportunity to cities, and am an indefatigable pedestrian. Conceiv- examine such an one for a study. I sometimes being myself, therefore, to possess tolerable materials, I come acquainted with important folks in the country, shall venture to offer a few observations on this sub- on purpose to watch their progress back again from ject, and shall consider, firstly, your Indiscriminate any knowledge of me in the city, and I derive as much Nodders. These are ordinary persons, with no know- selfish amusement from it as a young sea voyager does ledge of the art, who nod accidentally, as it were, and from witnessing the death of a dolphin. without meaning. They have the same look and shake of the head for every old face they meet. Among them are very odd fellows, and a great variety too. I have nearly laughed aloud sometimes to see these uneducated nodders go through their uncouth motions. They also may be classified. There are, for instance, your Pert Nodders; little, dapper fellows, all smiles and familiarity, who pass you with a brisk step, and a glance of the utmost intimacy, as if you understood each other well enough, and had enjoyed many a merry time together over the bottle. They give you the greeting of a bosom companion, although you scarcely know their names, and cannot recollect for your life where you saw them before. If they can come near enough, they slap you on the shoulder, good-humouredly, and call you Bob, or Dick, in a loud voice, no matter in what company you may be, telling you it's a fine morning," and asking reproach fully why you have not "dropped in" to see them lately. By the way, I can endure almost any evil with more patience than this unwarranted familiarity. The town abounds with these gentry. They are the pests of public places. If you happen to be with a lady, they make up to you with the most audacious ease, talk loud, so as to attract general notice; and if they find you not disposed to introduce your companion, are at least resolved not to leave you till they have had a fair peep under her bonnet. Sometimes they stick by you for an hour; and there are those among them who will lean their elbow on your shoul

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[Among the class of Freezers, there is a department consisting of what may be styled the Conde scending class of Nodders. These are individuals who, though in no respect your superior in point of intellect, conduct, or wordly wealth, affect to look down upon you as a being almost below their notice. You have been repeatedly in their society, been long regu. larly acquainted with each other, and perhaps you at one time were of service to them in some respect; but all this does not put you on a level with their mighty selves. Perhaps they are a little proud of their birth (you of course had not a father), or of being on terms of intimacy with a judge, or a nobleman, or even a baronet, or of living in a house in a genteel quarter of the town, or of being able to keep a gigit is all the same-they are proud of something, and so are very cautious how they recognise you. They have no objection to nod, and even to chat with you for a minute, on meeting you in a narrow out-of-theway street or lane, where none of their genteel friends can possibly see them; but encounter them on a fashionable promenade, or when walking arm in arm with one of the magnates of the place, they do not know you; and how is it possible they should ?—they are so busy talking to their associate, pointing out some object worthy of notice in a shop window, or pondering with down or side-cast looks on the subject of conversation, that you cannot expect any act of recognition. The principles of optics and physiology explain that a nod under such circumstances is an

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