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DINBURGA

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. 191.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1835.

SIGNIFICATIONS. THERE is a considerable number of words, which, though they may have one distinct dictionary signification, are employed in many various and even opposite senses, in accordance with the habits of feeling and thinking of those who use them. Virtue was, among the ancient Romans, bravery; among the modern, it is a taste for pictures; in Johnson's great register of the English language, it is moral efficacy. These meanings appear very contradictory; but the mystery is explained when we reflect, that, among the ancient Romans, bravery, among the modern Romans, a taste for pictures, and, among the British people, moral efficacy, was and is respectively estimated as the most useful and ennobling of qualities. The general aim of the word has at all times been the same: only the specific objects at which it has been directed are different. The phrase a good man," unless used very emphatically, and with some illustrative aid from the context of the conversation, is scarcely ever understood to imply goodness: commercial people accept it as an assurance that the individual to whom it is applied can pay twenty shillings in the pound. If, instead of man, the word fellow be used, men of pleasure understand the phrase to mean that the individual is careless, happy, and dissolute. In the same way, "to live well" means, among pious people, to live in the practice of frequent devotion; among people of the world, to eat and drink all the good things possible. "Honest-like" in Scotland implies a certain degree of personal bulk ; wise-like," a certain elegance and substantiality of attire; while honest and wise, in that country, have the same significations as in others.

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Good is often used in a depreciatory sense. "My good sir, you are quite wrong," is what we are apt to say when our friend utters any thing that we think reflects little credit on his understanding. The good woman did this, and the good man said that, are used when we describe any saying or doing which has betrayed ignorance of the ways of the world. This is akin to the epithet applied by the French courtiers of the fifteenth century to individuals of the peasantry -Jacques Bonhomme, James Good-man. When these same Jacques Bonhommes rose upon their superiors and commenced the bloody servile wars which made that period so memorable, this epithet of contemptuous pity for their ignorance and gentleness was still continued the wars themselves being styled the wars of the Jacquerie. The anomaly of a so-called good man acting as the murderer of his master must have then been found in every cottage throughout a large part of France.

Upon the whole, judging the matter in a merely worldly point of view, the epithet good is not very desirable. It may have a favourable sense, and assuredly it is the duty of all to act in such a manner as to deserve its most rational and serious application, But, in the business of the world, there is a necessity for the exercise of so many smart and vigorous qualities, incompatible with, or at least apart from, the soft and easy nature of goodness, such as the power of repelling injury and insult, prosecuting legitimate interests, and meeting and overcoming difficulties, that the epithet is apt to imply such a character as men of the world hold in little respect.

The truth is, goodness depends very much on circumstances of time and place. In a time of siege he is the best man who can live on a handful of flour in the day, and is able to keep longest watch upon the walls. Among tradesmen, the first of the cardinal irtues is a habit of readily discharging accounts. With servants, he is the best master who gives least trouble;

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with masters, he is the best servant who is most easily kept in order. There is hardly any acknowledgment among mankind of an abstract standard of morals. Whatever society in its larger or smaller departments chances to hold of most account, as tending to its convenience or squaring with its prejudices, he is the best man who most carefully respects it in his mode of life, and the worst who disregards or violates it. It is possible to get the repute of being a bad member of society without infringing a single rule of the decalogue, and to infringe not a few of the said rules without becoming in the least degree less acceptable in the circles frequented by the particular parties. Honesty, often accompanied by very mean and obscure sentiments of abstract morality, is the guiding card of the well-disposed among the industrious orders: honour, often unattended by what is called honesty, is the favourite and totally different code of persons of a superior grade. There may even be a city morality and a country morality; a large town morality and a small town morality; a sea-port morality and an inland town morality; a county morality, a parish morality, and a hamlet morality. That is to say, a particular course of conduct may be required to gain the praise of being right and good in each of those particular districts. An author of the last century relates, that, being once on a visit at a large town in the north of England, he went in company with a friend to the public bowlinggreen, where he observed a very respectable looking man who was shunned by every body. "By accident," says our author, entering into conversation with this gentleman, I found him polite, agreeable, and well informed. In my way home, I could not help taking notice of what I had observed, and inquired of my friend the cause of this gentleman being thus evidently disregarded. 'Cause enough,' answered he; that fellow is the greatest scoundrel upon earth. What has he done?' said I. 'Does he cheat? Is he a bad husband or father?' 'We don't trouble ourselves about his domestic affairs,' peevishly answered my friend; but, to do the fellow justice, I believe he is a good husband and father.' What, then ? has he committed murder, or been guilty of treason?' 'No,' added my friend; 'we have nothing to do with his quarrels, and don't trouble our heads with his party; we have nothing to say against him on those subjects. What, then, in the name of Fortune, can it be? Is he a blackleg or an usurer ?' 'No, no,' replied my friend; no such thing ; but, if you will have it, know, then, that good - | looking plausible villain, in his own farm-yard, shot a fox big with young!' Recollecting that my friend and most of the gentlemen on the green were staunch fox-hunters, my wonder ceased."

The same author afterwards remarks" An honest fellow, no longer ago than last week, cheated me confoundedly in a horse. On remonstrating with my cousin Justice Tankard, who had recommended the man to me, I learnt that with him an honest fellow meant only one who would not baulk his glass, and could swallow six bottles of port at a sitting."

"Nor"-he thus proceeds-" are the times of the day indicated by terms of more positive signification; but morning, noon, and evening, mean very differently from different persons, and in different places. I remember formerly, having received an appointment to wait on a noble lord the next morning; for want of a due consideration of his lordship's rank and amusements, I went at ten o'clock; but after knocking half morning would not commence in that house till some an hour, was convinced by a slipshod footman that hours after the sun had passed his meridian,

• Grose's Olio, p. 13.

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PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.

"On a similar appointment from a Welsh squire, I was at his door at eight, having been told he was an early man; but judge my surprise, when his servant informed me his master went out in the morning. On inquiry, I found morning in that house did not reach later than seven o'clock."

An honest country girl of the last century would have shrunk from the proposed introduction of "a nice man," supposing him to be some fastidious fop, unworthy of her attention. She would now gladly accede to the proposal, in the hope of meeting a person in every respect agreeable.

POPULAR INFORMATION ON SCIENCE. TRANSMUTATION OF SPECIES.

THIS subject is one of the most interesting of those into which geology ramifies, and upon which the researches made in pursuit of the objects of that science are calculated to throw considerable light. The term species, Lamarck observes, has been generally applied

to

every collection of similar individuals like themselves." According to Linnæus and other distinguished naturalists, a more ample definition of the word is necessary; and one of the most important truths implied in it is, that each species of plant or of animal has some characteristic or characteristics which distinguish it or them from all others, which remain the same under every vicissitude and change of circumstances, never having varied since the species was called into existence. This view of entire distinctness, existing amongst different species, has been warmly combated by some very eminent philosophers, who have not only broadly denied it, but boldly asserted that all the varieties of plants and animals which abound in nature originally sprang from one individual specimen of organised life; in short, that man himself, Socrates, Shakspeare, and Newton, were merely zoophytes in a state of high improvement and cultivation ! We shall endeavour to place this very interesting subject in as clear a point of view as the limits of a short paper will admit.

The term transmutation implies the change of one species into another species entirely different. The chief advocate of this doctrine is Lamarck, a celebrated French naturalist, of whose views we shall give a brief outline. The principle laid down is, that as the individuals of a species change their situation, climate, mode of life, and other circumstances, they also gradually change the form of their parts, and even lose some of their faculties or organs altogether, receiving others in their stead, so as to constitute a different species. That very extraordinary alterations in a plant are by this means effected, no one can deny. For instance, the original of the apple is to be found in the crab, of the plum in the sloe, of the red cabbage and the cauliflower in a bitter saltish-tasted plant which grew like wild charlock by the sea-side. Garden flowers, such as those called doubles, are very unlike any which are to be found growing wild; and all these, and many others which might be mentioned, are easily propagated by seed. The following experiment has been recorded by Mr Herbert :-"I raised," says he, "from the natural seed of one umbel of a highly manured red cowslip, a primrose, a cowslip, oxlips of the usual and other colours, a black polyanthus, a hose-in-hose cowslip, and a natural primrose, bearing its flower on a polyanthus stalk. From the seed of that very hose-in-hose cowslip, I have since raised a hose-in-hose primrose." If we turn from the vegetable to the animal kingdom, the same reDomestic markable phenomena become apparent. fowls and pigeons are very unlike any birds in a wild

state.

that species have a real existence in nature, and that each was endowed, at the time of its creation, with the attributes and organisation by which it is now distinguished."-Such a summary of the argument respecting the complete distinctness of species is so satisfactory as to require us to say nothing in addition.

THE FICKLE LOVER,

A STORY FOR DANGLERS.

MR COLLINS was a gentleman retired from the commercial world. He had amassed a considerable fortune, and resided in a handsome villa near Belfast. He was a widower, with a son and two daughters. His eldest daughter was married to a gentleman in the county of Galway, with considerable extent of property stretching along the sea-coast. His younger daughter was at home; and his son was preparing to go to Edinburgh for his last winter there, to finish his studies, and to take his degree as doctor of medicine.

Previously to leaving Ireland, he received two letters of introduction to families in Edinburgh, from friends in Dublin. During the former seasons of his residence in Scotland, he had had the misfortune to be cast among a vain, frivolous class of society, acquaintances picked up by chance, from which he derived no pleasure, and less profit, and of which the recollection afforded him no pleasing associations.

The ducks and geese propagated in a barn- for living in such a situation, and that any changes yard are unable to elevate themselves into the higher effected in this exhibit themselves in a few generaregions of the atmosphere, and fly to immense dis- tions. Professor Lyell observes, "Certain qualities tances like those wild and winged voyagers from which appear to be bestowed exclusively with a view to the they were originally derived. Where can we find in relations which are destined to exist between different a wild state the numerous races of dogs which now species, and, among others, between certain species live and propagate their likenesses in a state of do- and man; but these latter are always so nearly conmesticity? Where shall we meet with in nature the nected with the original habits and propensities of mastiffs, harriers, spaniels, greyhounds, and various each species in a wild state, that they imply no defiother races, between which there exists such a dif- nite capacity of varying from the original type. The ference that they might readily be regarded as speci- acquired habits derived from human tuition are rarely fic between wild animals? From examples like these, transmitted to the offspring; and when this happens, Lamarck comes to the conclusion, that change of lo- it is almost universally the case with those merely cal circumstances in which organised beings exist, which have some obvious connection with the attricauses alteration of form, and that this principle, butes of the species when in a state of indepenproceeding gradually through a long series of genera- dence." tions of the plant or animal, at length causes complete There is another class of phenomena, namely, the transmutation. He argues, that a change in cli- production of hybrids or mules, which bears directly mate, soil, and so on, creates new wants, and that upon the question of the permanent distinctness of these wants, which must be supplied, create new ac- species. It may be laid down as a general rule, tions and habits; and these again, by calling into admitting of very few exceptions, that, among quaactivity certain parts which were formerly but slightly drupeds, the hybrid progeny is sterile; and there exercised, gave rise to an increased developement. seems to be no well-authenticated examples of the Other organs, no longer necessary, became diminutive continuance of the mule race beyond one generation. in size from want of exercise, nay, says he, in some At all events, it seems to be undoubted that all cross instances were annihilated, whilst others more useful breeds, even where there is a perpetuation of the anisprang up in their place for the purpose of discharg-mals, gradually degenerate, and become extinct in ing new functions. But before proceeding farther, it course of time. Now, this is entirely at variance with is necessary to state, that the production of an entirely the theory of Lamarck, which rests solely upon the He came to town a few days before the classes new organ as a substitute for one displaced, or in or-principle of a tendency to perfection, in animals as well opened, that he might have time to arrange comfortder to fit the animal for peculiar circumstances, is a as in plants. It may be mentioned that the mule off-ably about lodgings, and call upon his new acquaintgratuitous assumption of the author, no proof being spring is rarely intermediate in character between the ances. He first directed his steps, and without any adduced in support of such a hypothesis. two parents. The celebrated Dr Hunter says, that, particular reason for the preference, to Mrs Bosville's, in his experiments, one of the hybrid pups resembled a widow lady, who resided in a house within a garden the wolf much more than the rest of the litter; and on the Bonnington road. another experimenter informs us, that, from a white panther and a she-wolf, two of the cubs obtained resembled the common wolf-dog, but the third had hanging ears like those of a pointer. An author very sagaciously observes, that, if hybrid races were susceptible of being propagated from mixed species, the animal kingdom would soon present a scene of the greatest confusion; its tribes would be every where confounded, and we should perhaps find more hybrid creatures than genuine and uncorrupted races. The force of this argument appears to us irresistible. It knocks the pedestal from beneath the imposing superstructure of Lamarck, and hurls it to the dust. It is in the vegetable kingdom, however, say the transmutationists, that we are to look for the most decisive evidence in support of their theory. That in plants it is possible to obtain from hybrid stock a new species which will remain permanent for many generations, is unquestionable. A philosopher called Kolreuter obtained from two species of tobacco a hybrid, which ripened and produced by its seed through several generations a third species. Another experimenter called Wiegmann succeeded in changing the colour and shape of the leaves and flowers, and even the scent of some plants. But as in the animal kingdom, the success attending the production and perpetuity of hybrids amongst plants generally depends on the degree of proximity between the species intermarried.

From what has been stated, it must be evident that the reasoning of Lamarck leads to the conclusion that habits or faculties do not arise from peculiar formation of parts, but that organisation results from habitudes and the necessities of circumstances. For instance, water animals, such as frogs, swans, beavers, and the like, were not originally provided with web-feet; but being compelled to traverse the water in search of prey, by continually pushing their feet backwards in fluid element for the purpose of impelling themselves forwards, the skin which united their toes acquired a habit of extension; and this went on to increase, until the broad membrane with which their extremities are now connected was formed. If we turn to quadrupeds, we find that the antelope and the gazelle possess a remarkable elegance and slightness of form. Now, according to Lamarck, this peculiar construction of body did not originally belong to them; but being of a shy and timid nature, and unprovided with any adequate means of defence, and having been exposed to the dangers of being devoured by tigers and other beasts of prey, their only safety lay in flight. Being thus compelled to run with great celerity, the peculiar slenderness of their legs was the result. In like manner, the camel-leopard, whose home is the interior of Africa, a place almost devoid of herbage, was compelled by the nature of its situation to subsist on the foliage of trees, and by continually stretching itself to reach the boughs, until its fore-legs became longer than the hinder ones, and its neck so elongated, that through successive generations it was at last enabled to elevate its head twenty feet above the level of the ground.

It seems clear, that although a new species, capable of perpetuating itself, may sometimes occur, yet there are no data, as yet, to warrant the conclusion that a That many striking varieties of species exist, is un-single permanent hybrid race has ever yet been formed, doubtedly true; but that every variety of animal life even in gardens, by the intermarriage of two allied has proceeded from one parent stock, is not difficult species, brought from distant habitations; and until to disprove. The point to be ascertained is, Have some fact of this kind is fairly established, and a disspecies a real existence in nature, and is each endowed tinct species, which may perpetuate itself without the with attributes and an organisation which distinguishes aid of man, can be shown to exist, it seems reasonable it from every other, and which it has retained from to doubt entirely this hypothetical source of new spethe time of its creation? As an instance of the ex- cies. That varieties do sometimes arise from cross tent to which individuals belonging to one species breeds, in a natural way, no one will deny, but it seems may vary, that of the dog may be adduced. The probable that they become extinct even sooner than modifications produced in the different races of these races propagated by grafts or layers. Professor Lyell animals by the influence of man, is truly remarkable. sums up the arguments for the reality of species in the These animals are known in every country, and, as a following manner :— modern naturalist observes, they have been made the companion, the servant, the guardian, and the intimate friend of man; and the power of a superior genius has had a wonderful influence, not only on their forms, but on their manners and intelligence. Amongst the changes effected by circumstances may

"1st, That there is a capacity in all species to accommodate themselves, to a certain extent, to a change of external circumstances, this extent varying greatly,

according to the species.

Mrs Bosville was one of the most agreeable ladylike women Francis Collins had ever seen, and her daughter was not less so. They were the widow and daughter of a West Indian proprietor.

During the time that Mr Collins remained in their company, he thought he discovered in Mary Bosville all that constitutes a perfect being. Her dress, her manners, her face, shaded with her dark hair, her figure, chiefly her bust, which was equal to what sculptor ever modelled, were faultless; and her intelligence was to him as surprising as her wit and vivacity were fascinating. In a word, she was different from any woman he had ever seen before, and more perfect than any which, even with his glowing imagination, he had ever hoped to see.

He could have remained the whole day, and he did remain longer than a reasonable time for a first visit. When he was taking his departure, Mrs Bosville invited him to a party in the ensuing week. He accepted the invitation, but wished only that it had been the following day instead for a week seemed to him a limitless period of time.

In the interval of this tedious period, he bethought himself of delivering his other letter of introduction, which was for a gentleman in Moray Place. Mr Stewart was a person who held a high official situa tion in town. He had a wife and family, and they were in the midst of the wealth, and fashion, and li terati of the place. He called on Mr Stewart, who was a very kind, hospitable, gentlemanly man; but he was hurried with business; his wife and family were out; and without having time almost to speak to Mr Collins, he asked him, in a way that precluded a refusal, to come back at six to dinner, as he was to have a few friends. At six o'clock Mr Collins was standing in Mr Stewart's drawing-room amidst a group of gentlemen, talking about the news of the day till dinner was served up. Mr Stewart's two eldest daughters, with their husbands, composed part of the company; and although these were fine women, yet they were not to be compared with their younger unmarried sister Louisa; and Mr Collins could not help wondering how such a fascinating creature as she seemed to be, had not been preferred to either of them; but she was very young, and probably, when they were married, she was still within the precincts of the schoolroom. But she was now the centre of attraction, and she dispensed her smiles, and shone radiant amidst her graces, like a divinity. She was all that a poet could fancy, or an artist form, of an ideal portrait of female loveliness, which he finds, after all his efforts, he never can transfer to canvass. She had all that was classically correct and beautiful in her face and form, and more than mortal attractiveness in her manner. She played and sang selections from Rossini, Weber, and Auber, and the most admired composers, in the most splendid style. Collins was passionately fond of music, and such music from a very ordinary mortal would have done havoc, and robbed him of rest at any time; and after she had done justice to some of the first Italian and German 4thly, The entire variation from the original type, masters, she rose from the piano, and leant over her which any given kind of change can produce, may harp, and struck a few notes of an Irish melody, usually be effected in a brief period of time, after which thrilled through his very soul. Before coming which no further deviation can be obtained by conaway, Mr Stewart gave him a general invitation to tinuing to alter the circumstances, though ever so the house, and said to his wife, I must transfer my gradually; indefinite divergence, either in the way of young friend to you to show him attention, for I have improvement or deterioration, being prevented, and so much business on hand that I really am not my the least possible excess beyond the defined limits own master at present." Mrs Stewart immediately being fatal to the existence of the individual. arranged with him to call next day at one, to accom5thly, The intermixture of distinct species is guard-pany them to an exhibition of paintings. ed against by the natural aversion of the individuals composing them, or by the sterility of the mule offspring.

2dly, When the change of situation which they can

endure is great, it is usually attended by some modi-
fications of the form, colour, size, structure, or other
particulars; but the mutations thus superinduced are
governed by constant laws, and the capability of so
varying, forms part of the permanent specific cha-

racter.

3dly, Some acquired peculiarities of form, structure, and instinct, are transmissible to the offspring; but these consist of such qualities and attributes only as are intimately related to the natural wants and propensities of the species.

be mentioned the difference in the quantity and colour
of their clothing, their size, the length of their muzzles,
and the convexity of their foreheads. But in all these
varieties of the dog, Cuvier observes, the relation of
the bones with each other remains essentially the same;
the form of the teeth never changes in any perceptible
degree, except that in some individuals there appears
occasionally an additional grinder. In order to link
all the members of the animal kingdom together, La-
marck conjectures that the wolf may have been the
original of the dog; but, unfortunately, they differ
not only in their habits and instincts, but in their or-
ganisation, particularly, as Dr Prichard observes, in
the structure of a part of the intestinal canal. Now,
such a thing never occurs in members of one species.
As a further proof of dogs not having sprung from
wolves, it has been ascertained, that, when they have
reverted to their original character, they never were
found to degenerate into wolves; on the contrary,
many travellers assert that they very nearly resem-
bled the shepherd's dog, and this variety of the dog
is, we believe, supposed to be the original one. With
regard to the extraordinary changes effected upon
some animals by man, it is sufficient that those which
have become domesticated had an original aptitude 6thly, From the above considerations it appears

The following day was Saturday. Louisa Stewart was not less beautiful than on the preceding evening, and even more fascinating. They went to the exhibition and some other sights; and when Mr Collins

was taking leave of the ladies, after seeing them home, Mr Stewart looked in at the room-door, and called out, "You must not go away, Mr Collins. I hardly saw you yesterday. We are not to have a soul with us to-day, which I am very glad of; so you must stay and let us get acquainted."

Mr Collins was now fixed. He and Louisa were left together for almost two hours, and she was so sensible and well informed, as well as captivating, that the time flew like hours in Eden. Mr Collins had her music and singing all to himself that night; and after she had touched his every heart-string with his own native airs, he went home in a state of mind approaching to delirium. Nor was he to be long absent from her company. Mrs Stewart, in order to fulfil all her husband's kind wishes in showing attention to the young stranger, made him a friendly and considerate offer of a place in their pew at St John's, as they could easily accommodate him; and it was difficult for a stranger to find a seat.

His classes now commenced, which was a happy thing for him; but on the Monday evening there was a note from Mrs Stewart, informing him that an eminent literary character had come to town, and was to be one of a party at their house the following day, and giving him an invitation. Mr Collins went. The literary man was there, and was brilliant beyond every thing; and while some of the company were listening to his sayings, even when he talked about a straw or the snuff of a candle, as if nothing so wonderful had ever been uttered before, or rather in surprise that a genius like him could talk upon the ordinary concerns of life, Frank had his attention rivetted elsewhere. The beautiful, the artless Louisa, shone like a celestial being among them, and he on that occasion was her only worshipper.

A drizzling rain fell, accompanied by an easterly wind, when he went home, and the change from the heated rooms to the open air had its effect upon him, and next morning he was confined with a severe cold. It was the day of Mrs Bosville's party. He could not go, and he sat up in bed and wrote an apology.

He got better in the course of the week, and he could not do less, when Saturday came, than call on Mrs Bosville, and express his regret in person for being absent from her party. Mrs Bosville was out, but her daughter was at home. She was seated on a couch with a volume of the Divina Commedia of Dante in her hand. Collins sat down by her, and she laid aside her book.

"You are fond of the poets," said Collins. "Very fond," said Mary. "But it is dangerous to be too fond of them, or to imitate them. There is nothing so inimical to happiness as to allow the imagination to gain the ascendancy; and whenever I begin to form to myself an ideal world to live in, I throw them all aside, and restrict myself to my needle and the newspapers, and in the latter I sum up all the murders and accidents, deaths and bankruptcies, political dissensions, and hurricanes in the West, and slave insurrections, and I think to myself, here is no poetry but the realities we are doomed to experience, till I find myself becoming flat with these commonplaces and matter-of-fact proceedings, and then I take another dip in imagery, till I get elevated again." & "And I suppose you are wishing to climb some of these aërial heights just now," said Mr Collins. "Yes," said Mary; "I have been rather dull for some days, and I must get up my spirits again." Men have an unfathomable depth of vanity about them. How Mary Bosville should have been dull for some days, was past Mr Collins's comprehension, and he half allowed himself to fancy that she had felt some disappointment at not seeing him.

Mr Collins sat with Mary till her mother came in, and a more calm, delightful, satisfactory hour he never spent in female society; and he made up his mind, as he went home, to cultivate her acquaintance as much as he could, and to be upon his guard against allowing his affections to be centred in Louisa Stewart. He wondered to himself which was the more worthy of his attachment; for when he coolly considered of it, he could not give the palm of superiority to the one over the other; but it is certain that Mary Bosville's image was in his mind the whole of that day and night, and till next day the brilliant eyes of Louisa welcomed him at church, and her sunny ringlets fell on the book they held between them.

When Collins had a leisure morning hour, it was generally spent at Mrs Bosville's, and his idle hours in the evening were passed at Mr Stewart's. But although life to him was passing in a whirl of pleasure, it was a miserable, unsatisfactory delight after all. He was acting the part of a dangler, and he had some qualms of conscience as to how the matter was to end. Was he in love with both the young ladies, or with only one of them, or with neither? These were ticklish questions, which he could not help putting to himself. What is this that I am doing? would he say in his ruminating moments. I cannot marry both, and yet I cannot decide on whom my choice ought to fall. Such was the infatuated indecision of Frank Collins. Perhaps he was wrong in imagining that he could have either for the asking; still his conduct was inexcusable in paying such attentions to both at the same time. He felt himself, as it were, under the influence of a spell. When he thought of Louisa Stewart, a wild dream of delight thrilled through him and in a few hours he was to be again by her side; and he thought she seemed to live only

for him, and the illusion was aided by all the glare of life with which she was surrounded all the accompaniments of wealth, rank, and beauty-together with the most flattering kindness and partiality shown to himself by her and her friends, which he could not withstand. But from these dazzling attractions he turned his thoughts to her unaccompanied by any external ornament to the calm, steady, serenely beautiful Mary Bosville, with her neck of Parian marble, who, after all, had more of a woman's perfections than the other; and he rose and paced his chamber, and he accused himself for his folly in allowing his heart to be so bewildered. He only wished that he could see the two together, and then he thought he would be better able to give a preference; but that was impossible.

One Saturday, Frank, as usual, wandered down to Mary. She seemed thoughtful that day, and had not much to say. Frank observed it to her. The piano was open, and often as he had been in her company, he never had heard her play. The fact is, that it is only when the accomplishments are more charming than the individual, that one seeks to have recourse to them. So, in Miss Bosville's company, music, or singing, or any thing else, would have been but an ungrateful interruption to her conversation, or even to the pleasure of studying a countenance not less expressive in her moods of silence.

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Now, Miss Bosville," said Mr Collins, "I see this is not one of your poetical days; you have been studying the newspapers. Will you give me some music to cheer me as well as yourself?" "Neither is it a musical day with me," said Mary; but at the same time she sat down to the instrument, and played a very beautiful Polonoise, with which is connected an affecting and romantic story. But she played it with little heart, and with little satisfaction to herself, and evidently with less to Francis. She rose from the piano, and gave him a smile, more inspiring than music, and she said to him, "I told you I was not musical to-day. My mind is wandering on something else than music, and I find I cannot fly two ways at once."

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"Then tell me where your mind is wandering,' said Francis, "and perhaps I may be able to assist you in your flight. I wish, Mary, that I could flee away and be at rest, for I have little rest here." And he sighed as he spoke, and a cloud passed over her fair brow, and her beautiful bosom heaved a deep sigh. "I have been so busy this week," said she, “and so anxious to finish a task I imposed upon myself, that I have been little out of doors, and I think it affects the spirits when one is confined to the house." So in this manner Mary tried to give a good reason for her dulness and her sighing; she removed a newspaper which covered some drawing materials upon a table, and she showed Francis a finely executed miniature, on ivory, which she had just finished, of her mother.

"I wish such an artist would draw my unworthy visage," said Collins, as he gazed on the beautiful creature that was sitting beside him; "it would be a gratification beyond every other, to think that any one would bestow so long her thoughts upon me. Oh, Miss Bosville, I envy your mother, and I grudge her every thought you ever bestowed upon her! Will you take my likeness ?"

"When will you come to sit for it?" said Mary, brightening up and smiling, while she drew out a little drawer in the work-table, and took out another miniature, almost finished, and presented it to him. It was one of himself. Mary started up, as if afraid that she had gone too far, and hurried out of the room.

and as evening advanced, she became almost sorrowful; but it seemed in Frank's eyes to add a new grace to her charms, and it accorded well with his own mournful mood. He lingered till a late hour; and when he rose to bid them farewell, she burst into tears. Had Mr Collins had an opportunity at that moment of vowing eternal love, he would have done it; but that was impossible.

Next day, after arranging with respect to his journey and voyage to Ireland, he called to take leave of the Bosvilles. He sat with the two ladies for nearly an hour, and took some refreshment, or rather sat and looked at it, for he tasted nothing of what was set before him. Mrs Bosville, when he rose to depart, shed tears, and gave him her blessing. Mary was as calm and composed as ever she was in her life, and she did not even look dull. She and her mother walked with him through the garden to the gate; and as he bade them farewell, the old lady saluted him, and a second time wished him every blessing. And then he clasped the beautiful, the blushing, unresisting daughter to his bosom, and impressed upon her face and neck his glowing kisses then sprang into the hackney-coach which was waiting for him outside the gate.

He had a prosperous voyage, and arrived once more in safety within his paternal walls. He soon after commenced as a practitioner in Belfast; and as people are always happiest when they have something to do, life passed away to him in tolerable quiet, as he became interested in his profession.

Two years elapsed, and all intercourse with his Edinburgh friends seemed to be at an end. On his arrival at home, he had written to Mr Stewart to thank him for all his hospitality and kindness, and this was answered by a hurried scrawl of a dozen or two of words from Mr Stewart, all kindness and good wishes, concluding with his wife and daughter's love to him. He wrote also on his arrival to Miss Bosville, thanking her and her mother for all their kindness, which he would never forget. But it was a letter that required no answer, and he received none; and he was unreasonable enough to feel chagrined and disappointed that she did not answer it.

Francis Collins applied himself more assiduously to business than there was any need for; but it was to drive away care, and to leave himself no time to think. His health, however, was evidently suffering, and his friends and medical advisers entreated him to relax a little, and take some change of air. They recommended a sea-voyage, and advised him to go to France, or London, or any where that he had a mind. But Collins cared little about the preservation of his health, and still less did he care for London or France; and if he must go somewhere, he might as well go to Edinburgh, where all his happiness and misery were centred. In the beginning of October, he once more arrived in Prince's Street, by the Glasgow coach.

The following day was pretty far advanced when Dr Collins took a turn out in the fresh air. He had not proceeded far along the street when he met Mr Stewart, so kind, so happy, and so hearty, that he saw in a moment that all was prospering in his quarter. An invitation, which, like all Mr Stewart's invitations, precluded choice or refusal, was the result. He assured him there was to be no company; and by six o'clock Frank was in the presence, and enjoying the smiles, of Louisa Stewart, more beautiful, more bewitching than ever.

When he arrived, he was shown up to the drawingroom, where Louisa was alone, and he enjoyed her charming society for a happy hour, when a stranger was announced. A tall and remarkably handsome man came in. Frank was by no means pleased on seeMr Collins put down the picture, and rose and ing the easy manner with which the unknown conpaced about, and looked out at the window. What inducted himself. It was, however, some gratification the wide world was he to do? He felt himself en- to observe that Louisa lost some of her sprightliness tangled in a labyrinth he could never get out of. He when he came in, as if caused by disappointment at was acting an unworthy part-he was tampering with the intrusion; and he thought she seemed as if she the affections of two estimable persons, and he was felt a weariness of his presence. Collins determined working no happiness, but misery to himself. Miss to sit him out; but the stranger seemed to have made Bosville, in a few moments, returned with a book in the same resolution; so they both sat, till at length her hand, and asked him something regarding the Collins saw it proper to go away. meaning of a particular passage in it; but it was evidently merely something to vary the subject of conversation. Frank paid little attention to the nature of what she asked him, and gave her any thing but a satisfactory or sensible answer. Now was the moment for him to have explained his feelings of affection to this amiable young lady, on whom his attentions had evidently wrought the usual effect of a preparation for listening to a declaration of attachment. But indecision prevailed. The favourable opportunity was lost; and Mrs Bosville shortly entering the room, he took his leave with as little appearance of confusion as it was possible for him to assume.

In the evening such was the strange complexity of his feelings he was at Mrs Stewart's, listening to Louisa's syren songs; and he retired to rest in a state of mind more miserable than that of a criminal in his cell. The term of Mr Collins's stay in town drew to a close, and he was not a whit more rational than at the outset. What affections or expectations he had awakened in the hearts of Mary Bosville and Louisa Stewart, we do not pretend to be able to describe. The day before his departure, he was invited to Mr Stewart's; and, except Louisa's married sisters, no company was there. Louisa had less vivacity than she used to have,

At an early hour on the day after, a letter was brought to him by a messenger, requesting an answer to be sent. It was from Mr Stewart a very kind, friendly, and, for him, a long letter. It was an invitation! To dinner? No; to Louisa's marriage on the Wednesday of the following week; and Mr Stewart, in his letter, enlarged on the good qualities of the intended bridegroom-a young gentleman newly succeeded to his father's estates in-shire, and no other than the elegant stranger that was announced in his presence the day before.

"Go to the marriage!" said Collins, as he threw down the letter; "I will as soon go to the gallows or the guillotine." And he set himself to write an apology, but he knew not what to say. He was above making any subterfuge. He could not say he was ill, or engaged, or going out of town; and still less could he say he was so disappointed and mortified that he would not come. He tossed aside his pen and paperthought that if the apology were sent any time in the course of the day, it would be time enough-and putting on his hat, sallied out, and down the Bonnington road till he came to the gate of Mr Bosville's residence. He opened it, and entered the garden, and stood for a moment on the very spot where he had parted from Mary and her mother. He went up to the house and

rang the bell. Mrs Hill, a respectable and confidential servant of Mrs Bosville's, opened the door. "How do you do, Mrs Hill ?" said Frank, brightening up at the sight of her well-known face, "and how are your ladies ?"

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"Oh," said the woman, Mrs Bosville is gone. She died six months ago.' "And Miss Bosville ?" gasped out Dr Collins. She is away, sir," replied Mrs Hill. "It is a week yesterday since she went." "Went whither ?" said Dr Collins impatiently. "She sailed for Barbadoes," answered Mrs Hill. "But you had better come in, sir, and I will tell you all about it," added she, as she thought he would have fainted at the threshold. He followed the woman in. She led the way into the back parlour, where he and Mary had so often sat together, and which looked out to the garden behind. The shutters were closed, the carpet was off, and the furniture all crowded together at one end of the room. Mrs Hill opened one of the windows, and dusted a sofa for him to sit down.

“I am only remaining nere," said she, "till after

the sale. The furniture is all to be sold off next week. It will be a sore day, sir, the day of the sale, to see the things that Mrs Bosville had such a respect for

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"But what of Miss Bosville ?" interrupted Dr Collins, gasping for breath.

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this he committed a number of thefts, and having fled, while on board a vessel bound for Charleston, he poisoned some of the passengers, and had the audacity to charge the crime on the cook, a black man, who was tried and executed, although protesting his inno- | cence to the last. On his return to Philadelphia, he practised the same horrid crime, by infusing arsenic in the food of the passengers; but this time he did not altogether escape punishment, being seized and condemned to seven years' hard labour in one of the penitentiaries. From this state of confinement he was at length liberated, and for some years lived in the commission of almost every species of offence. He possessed the most unbounded confidence in his resources, and viewed mankind with the utmost contempt. He never hesitated for a moment to perpetrate a crime, even where there was a danger of being detected. In his creed, he seems to have proscribed the whole human race. Perjury, poison, and poniards, were his instruments, and he wielded all with equal dexterity; but his chief engine of destruction was poison, which he never scrupled to use, and that in the most dexterous manner. In personal appearance, Tardy was a plain neat man, of a dark complexion, and with a grave countenance, which, it is said, was never disturbed either by a smile or a laugh. He spoke several languages with fluency, which was an accomplishment that gave him only greater scope for the performance of his designs.

"Oh, dear me, sir, did you no hear that she's gane to the West Indies." "Gone to the West Indies! no, I heard of nothing of the kind. When did she go ?" "It's only a week yesterday, as I said, since they gaed awa. The marriage took place on the Tuesday, and they set off in a ship frae Leith for Barbadoes on the Wednesday." They!" cried Frank, almost suffocated with emotion; "what they-what Finding that his character was too well known in marriage?" "What marriage!" replied the old wothe United States, he formed the plan of doing some man, the marriage of Mary Bosville. Did you no hear tell o't? I'm sure it was in the papers at ony thing in the way of slave-dealer or pirate in the West rate. She's married to a grand man, a planter, that Indies, and with such a view made his appearance, cam ower here on a visit, and was weel recommended; in 1827, at Havanna, in the island of Cuba. Here, and the marriage wasna lang in being made up, for while in the course of maturing his plans, he preMary, puir thing, hadna ony body to look to after tended to practise as a dentist and physician, in order the death o' her mother, and sae she's noo Mrs Osto lull suspicion as to his real character. After spendborne, and I have nae doubt but she'll lead a very happy life wi' her husband, for he's a kind gentle- ing some time in Havanna, he settled upon a plan manly man, and very fond o' her." which, if executed with discretion and energy, proFrank groaned in agony. He did not require tomised, as he thought, to yield a rich reward for his hear more. He rose to depart, although his limbs had scarcely strength to bear him to the door. He returned slowly to the city, a being blighted, and distressed beyond a hope of cure. And what he felt most excruciating, was the consciousness of deserving what he experienced.

He lost no time in returning to the scene of his professional occupation, but with hopes of happiness entirely quenched. He is still alive, in the patient endurance of an existence which might have been to him one of happiness, if he had taken the right road. And he looks back with bitter remorse on his unpardonable fickleness and folly, which had probably been the cause of misery to others, as it was certainly

to himself.*

TARDY, THE POISONER. ACCORDING to the annals of courts of justice, it appears that two classes of offenders are brought to trial for their misdeeds, namely, those who commit crime from necessity or some unfortunate combination of circumstances, and those who are naturally or habitually so depraved in disposition, that no moral restraint has the power of preventing their commission of the most dreadful atrocities. To this latter class belonged Alexander Tardy, one of the most consummate villains whom the world ever produced, and whose career in crime may be read as a warning by those who have the power of suppressing vicious propensities in youth, while they are susceptible of modification.

Tardy was a native of the island of St Domingo, and accompanied his father, who was of French extraction, to the United States, where he sought refuge after the revolution of that island. It does not appear that he received any thing like a good education, and it is mentioned that in youth he displayed an untamed restless disposition. He was put to a mercantile business in Philadelphia, but in this he ultimately failed, and went to serve as steward on board a vessel. From this employment he was discharged in 1813, under the dark suspicion of having poisoned the captain. He now went to Boston, and got a knowledge of the business of a dentist from a German practitioner. After

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ingenuity. This was nothing less than murdering the whole crew and passengers of a vessel, and then making the ship his own, with all its valuable cargo. Such a diabolical scheme, however, could not be executed without accomplices, and these he found in the persons of Felix, Pepe, and Courro, three Spaniards

of loose character, who had been accustomed to scenes of dissipation and crime. The vessel which was pitched upon by this band of wretches was the American brig Crawford, commanded by Captain Brightman, at the time loading with molasses, coffee, and sugar, and about to sail for New York. This selection, it seems, was not without a sufficient reason. | The Crawford was a new vessel, and a slight indisposition of the captain led Tardy to expect that he might, in his professional character of doctor, gain his confidence, which would greatly facilitate the execution of his scheme. The mode of operation was now arranged. It was agreed that Courro should go on board in the capacity of Tardy's servant, and that Felix and Pepe should go as cabin passengers, passing for merchants going to New York to buy a vessel to be employed in the African trade; and to render this story probable, a box was procured, filled with iron and lead, which was to be represented as containing seventeen thousand dollars in gold. In the meanwhile, by means of a discharged clerk of the customhouse, a set of false papers was procured, to exhibit after the vessel had been mastered.

been at sea for a few days, the wind being light, and the weather fair, I sat down to breakfast on deck with Tardy and the other cabin passengers. Captain Brightman was still indisposed, and confined to his berth. During breakfast, Tardy acted as master of the ceremonies, and helped me to bacon, fried eggs, and a bowl of chocolate-all which politeness, of course, excited no suspicion. Soon after breakfast, I descended to the cabin for the purpose of taking some repose, having been engaged all night on duty; but I had hardly lain down for a minute, when I was attacked with a violent headache, throbbing about the temples, and sickness of the stomach. Unable to make out the cause of this sudden illness, I sent for Tardy, who, having felt my pulse, and inquired into the symptoms of the disease, declared that there was bile on the stomach, and recommended an emetic. Mr Robinson having overheard this prescription, dissuaded me from taking any medicine whatever, and recommended reI therefore had my mattrass removed to the pose. open air on the deck, where I lay until eight o'clock in the evening, by which time the vomiting had ceased, and I felt a good deal relieved. During the day, I had a conversation with Mr Robinson, who communicated his fear that an attempt had been made by the Spaniards to poison them, as the whole crew seemed to be sick, and who proposed, that, to guard against any thing of this kind in future, their own cook should prepare food for the crew and other passengers, while Courro, who acted as the servant of Felix and Tardy, might act as cook for the Spaniards. Nothing, however, was settled upon definitely, and, as the vessel was going safely in her course, I lay down for the night, but with orders to be waked if the breeze should spring up.

I had slept, I think, about an hour and a half, when I was waked by dreadful shrieks proceeding from all parts of the vessel. Starting up with the apprehension that we were boarded by pirates, I ran forward to the forecastle, and there a horrid scene of slaughter met my sight. I learned that Courro was the first to wake, and perceiving that the time was come for action, he called up Tardy and the Spaniards. Tardy then cut the throat of Dolliver, and gave the signal, when the Spaniards set up dreadful cries, which roused every body; and as any one came up, either from the cabin or forecastle, he was immediately stabbed. The American carpenter was the first to make his way from the cabin, and was stabbed by Pepe; but the blow not proving mortal, a struggle ensued, which lasted for a short time, when he fell, and was dispatched by an axe. During the continuance of this struggle, Captain Brightman rushed on deck, and received a blow from Felix, which laid him prostrate. The Irish passenger met the same fate, and Robinson was supposed to have thrown himself from the cabin windows into the ocean, upon seeing the death of the Irishman. Courro was equally successful at the forecastle, and stabbed successively Potter, Gibbs, and Bicknell; Deane, who slept on deck, was not discovered in the darkness, and threw himself overboard without being wounded. When in the water, he entreated that a barrel, plank, or oar, or something, might be thrown out to support him, as he was ready to sink, and these entreaties were seconded by Mr Robinson, but all in vain; and they both doubtless soon sank to rise no more. [Gibbs, the black cook, who had been wounded, and Mr Ginoulhiac, were spared; why the latter was not put to death, is not well explained in the evidence.]

After some delay in loading and taking on board a number of passengers, the good brig Crawford cleared In the meantime, being wounded, I had made the out for sea on the 28th of May 1827. When it set best of my way to the rigging, which had not escaped sail, it was manned by the following crew :-Edmund the notice of Tardy, who called out in a loud voice Dobson, mate; Joseph Dolliver, Asa Bicknell, Oliver for me to descend, which I refused to do; but upon Potter, and Nathaniel Deane, seamen; and Stephen repeated assurances that if I came down my life Gibbs, a coloured man who acted as cook. Besides would be spared, I at length ventured down upon Brightman, the captain, there were also on board, as the deck, and was immediately surrounded by Tardy passengers, Tardy, Felix, Pepe, and Courro; like- and his companions. Tardy now began to question wise, Ferdinand Ginoulhiac, who was also a Spaniard, me about the box which Felix had brought aboard, but not belonging to Tardy's band; an American, and what had become of it. I replied that I had seen and an Irish carpenter, whose names were not known; the box, and put it in the captain's state-room, but and Mr Norman Robinson, who was part owner of could not tell what had become of it, if it were no the cargo—making altogether fifteen individuals. We longer there. Tardy then explained that the Spanishall now describe how the plot was gradually de-ards had applied to the captain for the box, and upon veloped and brought to a crisis; and in doing so, use the affecting account afterwards given by Dobson, the mate, who, along with Ginoulhiac, and Gibbs, the cook, alone survived to tell the horrid tale.

"The brig (says Dobson) proceeded on the voyage with variable winds, but with every prospect of mak

self to the illustration of life as it is, and not as it is idly depicteding a fair passage. One morning, after the vessel had

by the poets of a forgotten era.

his refusal to give it up, they had resolved, instead of going to the United States to seek a precarious redress from the laws, to take the law into their own hands, and had accordingly killed the captain and taken possession of the vessel; that, as the deed was now done, it would be useless to go to the United

States, and they had determined to sail for Europe;

and that, if I would assist them, they would not only save my life, but I should be well paid for my services when the cargo was disposed of.

Of course, this plausible story of Tardy was a mere fabrication, in order to excuse the murders and the seizure of the vessel; but as I was not in a condition to dispute the accuracy of the statement, I offered no objections to it, and consented to do that which was requested of me, whereupon I obtained permission to lie down on my mattrass to take some repose. In the course of the morning, after the work of destruction had been completed, the Spaniards set up loud cries of exultation, and, intoxicated with their success, walked about the deck, which, as well as the sails and rigging, was every where dyed with blood, and they occasionally resorted to a bottle of liquor placed on the hencoop. They were not, however, so far gone as to neglect the clearing away of all traces of the murders. They washed the deck and rigging, and painted the sails to conceal the blood with which they were stained. During the day, all the papers belonging to the brig were torn up and thrown overboard, and all the chests and trunks which had belonged to the passengers and crew were ransacked for plunder. The American flag was also destroyed, and materials were produced for making a Spanish flag, which Mr Ginoulhiac was required to put together.

Tardy, who was now in command, informed me that he intended to proceed to Hamburg, and that he was provided with papers for such a voyage; but that before sailing for Europe, he wished to put into some port to procure fresh provisions, and ship a crew, as the Spaniards were no sailors. At his request, I informed him how to steer for St Mary's. An effort was now made to reach this port, but contrary winds prevented a landing; and after cruising about for a couple of days, I proposed to carry the vessel either into Savannah or Charleston; Tardy, however, objected to these places, where he said he was known, and he did not care for being seen. It was finally resolved to go to Norfolk, and the course was accordingly shaped for the Capes of Virginia. Tardy proposed that they should anchor in the Chesapeake, and remain there while he went to Norfolk and procured hands and provisions. This I opposed, telling him that I was afraid of the Spaniards, who would probably take my life. He did all in his power to remove these fears, by saying, that if they attempted my life, he would sink both them and the vessel on his return. Circumstances fortunately occurred to prevent him from leaving the vessel, and my running any risk of being murdered. On arriving at the bay of Norfolk, pilot boats began, as is usual, to make their appearance, a matter which disconcerted him not a little. As one pilot after another came up and offered his services, Tardy declined their offers, declaring that the vessel was bound for Hamburg, and that he was well acquainted with the bay. I now pointed out the danger of his refusing to take a pilot, that the refusal might excite suspicion, especially as the name of the vessel was not on the stern, and these representations induced him to allow a pilot to come

on board."

This was a fatal though an unavoidable step, and paved the way for the discovery of the piracy and murder. Having come to anchor by the guidance of the pilot at about a hundred yards from the shore, Tardy again mentioned his intention to go on shore to get hands and provisions, making strong promises to Dobson to reward him for his fidelity, and to bring him any thing he wanted from Norfolk. But Dobson had already formed a plan of escape from this band of wretches. He had the address to persuade Tardy to allow him to prepare the boat for his going ashore; and getting possession of an oar, while the Spaniards were aloft furling the sails, he at once sculled away from the vessel, and, to the consternation of Tardy, got safely to land. On touching the shore, he made the best of his way to Fortress Monroe, and gave information to the officers of the character of the vessel, and the dreadful transactions of which it had been the scene. A boat was forthwith fitted out with an officer and men to visit the ship, and seize Tardy and his companions.

In the interim, the wretched Tardy foresaw the termination which was speedily to take place to his murderous career. He saw the vengeance of the law about to fall upon him, and he hastened to elude his fate. Proceeding to the cabin, and seating himself upon a box of dollars, the accumulation of his plunder, he put an end to his existence by cutting his throat. The Spaniards had not the same clear perception of the nature of their doom, and suffered themselves to be seized, and carried on shore to prison. The ship was now taken charge of by the official authorities; the remaining persons on board, namely, Mr Ginoulhiac and the cook, being at the same time removed, and kept along with Dobson as witnesses on the trial of the Spanish sailors.

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The trial took place before Chief-Justice Marshall, | at Richmond, Virginia, on the 16th of July 1827, and the evidence of the guilt of the prisoners was so clear, that they were condemned to death, and were executed a month afterwards.

As soon as the tale of horror which we have narrated became generally known, a very considerable degree of interest was manifested with regard to the configuration of the head of the principal actor, Tardy; and his skull was therefore made the object of measurement and analysis, in order to see if it corresponded with the principles laid down by Phrenology. For the special results of these examinations, we must refer to the 5th volume of the Edinburgh Phrenolothe skull of Tardy was found to be low in front, gical Journal; it is sufficient for us here to state that showing a deficiency of moral and intellectual faculties, and a large preponderance behind, proving a predominance of the destructive and grovelling propensities of our nature. Possibly these might have been modified by early culture, along with the inculcation of moral and religious sentiments; as it was, the whole career of the man offers one of the most striking instances in modern times, of a human being devoting himself, under every circumstance of life, to the destruction of his fellow-creatures.

PLEASURES OF A BAD DAY.

crooked toils of policy-I listen to the debates of councils-I pursue the route of armies I mingle in mighty battles-I attend the fugitive, the captive, the dying. I trace the rise and fall of individuals, and of nations. I mark the incessant struggles and agitations of men, their keen pursuits, their furious rivalries, their remorseless ambition, and ask myself what availeth all this now? I contrast this stir with my own tranquil seclusion, and comfort myself with thinking, that if my ease be insignificant, it is at least harmless and safe. Sometimes I follow the wanderer by land or sea, into strange countries, among savage people. I see nature under aspects different from what I ever saw; and men varying from each other burning suns, or shiver amidst polar ice. I share as much as the regions they inhabit. I faint under the traveller's perils and escapes, his adventures and discoveries. I sympathise in the rude repulses which he meets with the seasonable relief the unexpected kindness. And I readily bestow on him, like the amiable Cowper, my thanks and praise, that, with so much toil to himself, he has spread a feast for my repose. Sometimes I pierce into the thorny thicket of metaphysics; pushing aside the boughs, and catching by the twigs, and leaping the ditches, and wading through the quagmires, with closed eyes, and indefatigable arms, till, after long warfare, I find myself just where I set out, with little other benefit than the sharpened activity acquired in the conflict. Sometimes I take upon myself the task of active labour, and (as at this present writing) cull from the gathered stores of my CABINET, for the benefit of my readers and posterity.

[We here make another quotation from "THE CABINET, a series of Essays Moral and Literary," of which we presented more than one specimen about three months ago. We have been much concerned to observe the continued obscurity of this delightful revival of the old Essayists. A reception so different from its merits can only be accounted for by circumstances apart from me. rit, and we would suggest the form and price of the book as perhaps the most obstructive. If the papers had been published in the successive numbers of some popular periodical, and finally reprinted in a pair of neat and cheap volumes, the refined taste, in so eminent a degree, could not have failed to make an impres-epicurean paradise to be fulfilled in lounging on a

elegant pleasantry, and amiable morality, which characterise them

sion on the public mind. But, appearing in two volumes of unfashionable size, and, what is more important in these days, unfashionable price, they remain for the present "like metal in a mine." Could not this be yet remedied?]

THE pleasure which we have in observing contrasts has long been noticed by those who examine into hupleasure ever so great as when we compare exterior, man nature, or address human feelings: nor is that or past, or fictitious calamity, with present enjoyment felt by ourselves. This principle, it is well known, has been illustrated by Lucretius, in the prospect, from a safe retreat on shore, of ships toiling amidst the tempest. Virgil has told us that it is pleasant to remember past misfortunes. Our own poets, Thomson and Cowper, remark the sense of comfort which we feel in a snug warm dwelling, when contrasted with the wintry blast howling around its roof. And Armstrong has thus happily expressed the same sentiment:

O when the growling winds contend, and all
The sounding forest fluctuates in the storm,
To sink in warm repose, and hear the din
Howl o'er the steady battlements, delights
Above the luxury of vulgar sleep.

These authors have their praise :-But the palm of
original discovery was reserved for the keeper of the
Cabinet, in unfolding to his admiring readers the
PLEASURES OF A BAD DAY.

When I awaken in the morning, and hear the wind roaring in the chimney top, and the rain pelting in gusts against my window-" This is well," say I, congratulating myself on the prospect of a bad day. I then creep out of bed to the window; and, gazing forth, behold the heavens surcharged with heavy clouds, the drops pouring down from the eaves, and the streets shining with moisture. "Better and better," I add; "it is fairly set in." I descry one or two workmen hurrying betimes to their daily labour, with coats buttoned, heads held down, and hands in their pockets. "Poor souls!" say I, sneaking back into bed; "it is not, however, quite so well for them :" And while I gently sink into another slumber, endeavour to feel as much compassion for them as I can.

After breakfast, I again look forth, and see an unbroken curtain shroud the welkin from side to side, the drops dancing in the gutters, and the deluge driving aslant before the blast. Here a lubbard scavenger sweeps out the overflowing kennels: there a damsel, sorely bedraggled, picks her steps through a wilderness of mud: at an adjoining corner a hapless gentleman is engaged in conflict with his umbrella, which buffets him to and fro, reversing the concave into the convex; or, perchance, taking an upward flight, leaves its gazing owner with the stick in his hand. Satisfied with this contemplation of the evils of humanity, I repair to my study, stir my fire into a rousing blaze, glance my eye with conscious pleasure round my library, draw in my elbow-chair, and, throwing myself back, with outstretched limbs, set about determining how I am to pass`the day.

Sometimes I plunge into the sweet maze of poesy. In a moment I find myself amid sunshine, and summer breezes, and quiet waters, and all the voluptuous serenity of a southern climate; and enjoy this with double relish when I contemplate the sad and surly atmosphere without. Sometimes I turn the historic page, and read the lessons of that stern philosophy which teaches by examples. I explore the

It were inexcusable to omit the peculiar delight of sitting down to a good novel on a bad day. The interesting story, the glowing descriptions, the amusing characters, are all enhanced by the storm without, the snugness within, and the unbroken leisure for enjoyment. The poet Gray declares his idea of an

sofa, and reading perpetual new romances of Marivaux or Crebillon. A fertile and mighty genius of our own day has put it in our power actually to rea lise this Elysium.

profits by the advent of a bad day. On such an ocNor am I the only member of the household who casion, you may discern, in my worthy sister's coun which indicates a soul intent on high designs. This tenance during breakfast, a resolved and serious look, is an opportunity destined by her for dispatch of busihousehold, from the garret to the cellar. From this ness, and a thorough inspection and reform of the scrutiny, the only spot exempted is my study, which I reserve as a sort of city of refuge, amidst the general storm of ablution that descends on the rest of the domicile. To attain this object, however, orders or injunctions would be a slight protection against the ac tive housewifery of my sister and her handmaids; so, to keep all safe, I man the fortress myself, and make a vigorous resistance against all intrusion. The rest of the house is abandoned to the invaders. The affusion from mops and pails within, almost emulates the deluge without. Floors and tables are vexed with scrubbing. Beds are taken down, and carpets folded up. No nook or cranny escapes the searching inquisition. Lurking decays are detected, and ancient im purities cleared out. Domestic utensils are considered. Some are found to be worn out, others broken; and orders for amendment are issued accordingly. Garments are scanned with a curious eye, and if hole appear in stocking, or small-clothes gape with hideous rent, or loosened button be wagging its sweet head, straightway the helping-hand is applied. If, in the domestic manufacture of luscious condiments-marmalade or jelly-aught hath misgiven, now is the time for a thorough recoction. If liquor is to bottle, this is a season free from interruption. Lumber is removed, stores unpacked, letters answered, servants scolded, accounts examined, household-books posted up; in short, a thousand weighty matters, essential to the conduct of a well-ordered family, are dispatched under favour of a bad day.

My little nephew, from such an event, derives less apparent benefit than the rest of the family. To an active and healthy boy, nothing can compensate the want of corporal locomotion. Various devices are fallen upon to keep him quiet, by assigning new tasks, and rehearsing old ones; but after these are exhausted, the instinct breaks out in a restlessness and meddling, which my sister pronounces to be nearly akin to mischief. In vain do I represent this activity as flowing from the wise order of nature, and the source of all knowledge. "A fig for your knowledge and nonsense," answers Judith, "the little smatchett has broke my Nankin jar." She therefore endeavours to divert this nocent propensity, by setting him to work at some wheel of the domestic machinery. And, indeed, this labour of keeping him out of mischief (as my sister terms it) adds no inconsiderable item to her occupations on a bad day.

To all this it may be objected, that the pleasures I am describing are of a selfish nature, and that no one should derive satisfaction from the evils of his fellowcreatures. This, however, I consider as refining too much. The sentiment to which I have alluded is perhaps rather allied to benevolence than opposed to it. At least I can say for myself, that when I look forth on such a day, and see the less favoured of my species submitting with contentment, and even cheerfulness, to hardships under which I should heavil

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