eos am ome Ssa%s Meee + i: + 2 Sse tw: pownaee: Ht pists t + fae <. -— satel est 3 - re “ 98 Hastsesit : 8 meh: ye - Ji wateeney ‘ 4 Sere ob sas as4 5 shied sort rt) 2 24 wee Sarhynz Hy i mt ae My RS baal ae ‘4 yg THE ANALYST ; . nt * QUARTERLY JOURNAL, | oF x 3 SCIENCE, LITERATURE, - | x . - NATURAL HISTORY, AND THE FINE ARTS. i - OCTOBER, 1836. London ; ae “SIMPKIN, MARSHALL; AND. 00.» - . STATIONERS’ HALL COURT; W. CURRY, Jun., & CO., DUBLIN; "BARLOW, KNOTT, WRIGHTSON AND WEBB, LANGBRIDGE, DRAKE, BIR MING- & i i HAM; GRAPEL, LIVERPOOL ; BANCKS AND CO., MANCHESTER; WHEELER, ai ‘DEIGHTON, STRATFORD, RIDGE, HUNT, WOODFORD, EATON, WORCESTER 3 eo By JEW, GLOUCESTER$ WILLIAMS, H. DAVIS, BETTISON, CHELTENHAM} 3 EDDOWES, SHREWSBURY; SHARPE, WARWICK; W. PARKE, WOLVERHAME- We ~—«S TONS AND ALL: BOOKSELLERS IN TOWN AND COUNTRY. » ? me ~ Baron Four ‘Site nines: ee CONTENTS. oe ; Pace. Memoir of Sir Hans Sloanes Bart. 1.0... ios ce ctd ee ie eaen cee ppeep opens “eS 1 A Comparison between the Climates of Great Malvern and London, with Miscellaneous Meteorological Observations | ..............:..-+0 20 On the rarity of certain Birds in Derbyshire, abundant in other parts of Beitdin, by N. Wood, Esqei dito ceicitenselgicntasustagheesdlevars cerns 31 Some Remarks on the Philosophy and observarices of Shakspeare...... - 34 Observations on an Important Branch of Female Education............... 49 On the Effects of certain Mental and Bodily States upon the Imagina- . fon, by Langston Parkers cpr avait eles edo ethic ray oe ore hearse 53 Hewitson’s British Oology oor siaes 5.5 Wee aeeeaise ners wkecat eat eoceesahemasdnes gat Remarks on Dr. Caldwell’s “ Thoughts on Physical Education” .......... £0 The Reptiles and Amphibia of Britain, Systematically arranged ......... 104 CORTERMONRON Re) hoes ea pde dug ns ea A ON Dh ie Vera DANS ae Ae eigerouerh Sens wok 108 Birmingham Society of Arts; Exhibition of Paintings, by the Old Masterae Ci. eicouss sad ages RU aaE aD pce ide glue Muh nae tah teens Bok ‘12 Meeting of the British Association for the advancement of Science ... 117 Proceedings of the Zoological Society. .......-.:--24e:-ctetercannteee Seren 152 Meeting of the Provincial Medical and Surgical Association............... 153 Proceedings of Provincial Societies ............. Eas dey aesae Lamtcauas Sea bainen ae seers 157 Birmingham Philosophical Institution ; Shropshire and North Wales Natural History and Antiquarian Society ; Worcestershire Natural History Society. | Critical Notices of New Publications: .. 0.2... 0.60.) ieets cases ececan ee re ceeees 161 An Angler’s Rambles; The Sea, by Robert Mudie; Observa- tions on the Instinets of Animals; The Magazine of Health; An Account of the Phormium Tenax. RANGUATS coo eis decane ae ee oe ee ree Mpe vee T Laas oe i oko ae bee mabe Wve uae 169 Finden’s Ports and Harbours of Great Britain, Nelentiic Miscellanea Sintec (ac sececawas anos bassateneners The First and Second Volumes of The Analyst (with Index ), in cloth boards, price 10s., and the Third and Fourth Volumes, price 9s., may be had of Simpkin, Marshall, § Co., London, and all other Booksellers. ” THE ANALYST; A QUARTERLY JOURNAL, OF SCIENCE, LITERATURE, NATURAL HISTORY, AND THE FINE ARTS. London : SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. CURRY, Jun. & CO., DUBLIN; BARLOW, BIRMINGHAM. 1836. THE ANALYST. MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, Barr., FOUNDER OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM. A -sxercn of the useful life of this illustrious physician and naturalist, cannot but be acceptable to our readers, at a time when the proposed improvements in the British Museum, detailed in the recent report of the committee of inquity, form the general topic of conversation in the scientific and literary citcles of the day. It has been compiled principally from contemporary writers whose authen- ticity may be relied on. Sir Hans Sloane, Bart., was the son of Alexander Sloane, who was placed at the head of a colony of Scots which James I. settled in the north of Ireland, and the subject of this biographical sketch was born, on the 16th of April, 1660, at Killileagh, in that dis. trict. He discovered a strong inclination for natural history, even in his infancy, and devoted those hours generally employed by young persons in trifling pursuits, to the study of nature, and the admiration of her multiform and attractive productions. At the age of sixteen, he was seized with a spitting of blood, which inter- rupted the regular course of his studies, and confined him to his ehamber for three years. He had already acquired enough of the healing art to know that such a malady was not to be suddenly eured ; and his prudence directed him to abstain from any stimulant that might tend to increase the disorder. By a strict regimen adopted at this time, and which he afterwards always observed, he was enabled to prolong his life beyond the ordinary bounds assigned to the age of man; being himself an example of the truth of his 4 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. favourite maxim, “‘ That sobriety, temperance, and moderation, are the best preservatives, and the most powerful that Nature has vouchsafed to mankind.” He had scarcely recovered from his first attack when his desire to pursue his medical studies (the profession he had selected) induced him to visit London, for the purpose of obtaining advantages in this way which he could not hope to find in Ireland. Soon after his arrival he placed himself with Stafforth, the first chemist of the day, who was brought up under the illustrious Stahl; and by his instructions he became perfectly acquainted with the nature and preparation of the various articles which formed the materia medica of that period. He also studied botany at the Apothecaries’ Gar- den, Chelsea, which had been opened in 1673, for the benefit of young students. He attended all the public lectures on anatomy and medicine then given in the metropolis, and neglected nothing which had any reference, however remotely, to the profession in which he had embarked. But he was no less distinguished as a naturalist than as a physi- cian. His enthusiasm for this interesting study introduced him to the acquaintance of Mr. Boyle and Mr. Ray, and to them he com- municated every striking fact or object of curiosity that came under his observation. His intimacy with these two great men continued till their death, and his remarks often excited their wonder, and obtained their unqualified approbation. After four years intense study in London, Mr. Sloane resolved to visit foreign countries, for further improvement. With this view he set out for France, ac- companied by two other students. Having been at Paris, where he attended the lectures of the celebrated Tournefort, and other emi- nent professors, and visited the literati and the scientific, he directed his steps to Montpellier, where he spent a whole year in collecting plants, and in pursuing his botanical studies. He returned to England in 1684, with the intention of pursuing the medical pro- fession, at the early age of twenty-four. Immediately on his arri- val he visited his illustrious friends Mr. Boyle and Mr. Ray, and to the latter he transmitted a variety of plants and seeds, which this author has described in his Historia Plantarum, with proper ac- knowledgements. Soon after his return from abroad, Mr. Sloane was elected a Fel- low of the Royal Society, and, in the year 1687, of the College of Physicians. This last election happened on a very extraordinary occasion, of which we think it worth while to give a short notice. At a meeting of the Society on the 19th of October, 1685, the pre- MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 5 sident, Sir Thomas Witherley, one of the king’s physicians, having acquainted them that a writ of quo warranto was to issue against their charter in the next term, it was put to the vote and carried nem. con., that the College should themselves deliver up their char- ter into his Majesty’s hands; which surrender was subscribed by all the Fellows. On the 29th of March, 1686, the president ac- quainted the College it was his Majesty’s pleasure that the number of Fellows should be increased from forty to sixty or eighty ; and on the ]2th of April, 1687, the Diploma of King James II. was brought to the College, and solemnly accepted by the Society, and thirty new Fellows were that day admitted, among whom were Dr. Hans Sloane, afterwards the founder of the British Museum, and Dr. John Radcliffe, the founder of the celebrated library at Oxford. Dr. Sloane, some time afterwards, took an opportunity of bearing witness to Dr. Radcliffe’s great merit as a physician. In order to express his utter contempt of those who seek to depreciate the talents of their contemporaries, he observes, in the Introduction to the second volume of The Natural History of Jamaica, that such shallow persons would “ needs persuade him that Dr. Radcliffe could not cure a disease, because he had seen a recipe of his where the word pilula was spelled with two 1s.” When only in his twenty-eighth year, Sir Hans Sloane accom- panied the Duke of Albemarle on his appointment to the govern- ment of the island of Jamaica, in the quality of physician, being chiefly induced by his attachment to natural history to under- take a voyage which was not thought, at that time, to be alto- gether free from danger. As he was the first man of learning whom the love of science alone had led from England to that part of the globe, and was, besides, of an age when both activity of body and ardour of mind concur to vanquish difficulties, his travels were eminently successful. To say nothing of the other curiosities with which he enriched his native country, he brought home from Ja- maica and the adjacent islands at which he touched, no fewer than 800 different species of plants; a number much greater than had ever been previously imported into England by any indi- vidual. His stay in Jamaica did not exceed fifteen months, when the governor and the doctor returned home, and settled in London. His friend Mr. Ray was astonished at the results of his science and industry. ‘When I first saw,” says Mr. Ray, “ the author’s stock of dried plants collected in Jamaica and some of the Caribbee Islands, 1 was surprised at the great variety of capillary plants, not thinking there had been so many to be found in both the Indies.” 6 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART.” So great was the admiration of these extraordinary novelties, that many of them were purloined by the curious visitors, to the no small vexation of their learned proprietor. ‘ When I returned,” says Dr. Sloane, “ from Jamaica, I brought with me a collection of dried specimens of some very strange plants, which excited the curi- osity of the people who loved things of that nature to see them, and who were welcome, till I observed some so very curious as to desire to carry part of them privately home with them, and injure what they left. This made me upon my guard with them.” He was chosen secretary to the Royal Society in 1693, when he revived the publication of its Transactions, which had been for some years suspended, and continued to edit them till 17]2. In 1696 he published his Catalogus Plantarum Insule Jamaice, etc., which he dedicated to the Royal Society and the College of Physicians. Laudari @ laudato viro is always an honour to be coveted ; and, on this occasion, it was justly awarded to him by his friend Mr. Ray, who in the Philosophical Transactions, has ably dilated upon the value and importance of this masterly work. About this time, Dr. Sloane established a Dispensary, the first known, for supplying the poor with medicines at prime cost. His eager pursuit of natural history, amidst all his other employments, never ceased to enrich his collection with every thing curious and valuable that this or any other country could produce ; and in 1701 his Museum was consi derably increased by the purchase of Mr. Courten’s large collection, on condition that he should pay certain legacies and debts with which it was charged. ‘This duty he strictly performed, although the amount to be paid rendered the purchase a dear one. In 1694, Dr. Sloane was chosen physician to Christ’s Hospital, which ap- pointment he held for thirty-six years, and exhibited a rare exam. ple of munificence by devoting the whole of the money he received to the benefit of such objects in this establishment as most needed his assistance. Two years afterwards he married Elizabeth; daughter of Alderman Langley, of London, who died in 1724, after she had brought him one son (who died at an early age) and three daughters, the youngest of whom died, also, in her infancy. Sarah, the eldest, married George Stanley, Esq., of Poultons, in the county of Hants; and Elizabeth, the second, married the Right Hon. the Lord Cadogan, colonel of the second regiment of horse guards, and governor of Tilbury Fort and Gravesend.* * By the act of incorporation of the British Museum (26th of Geo. IL.), Lord Cadogan and Hans Stanley, Esq., were appointed family trustees, and the present Farl Cadogan and Lord Stanley are now the representatives of this trust. MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 7 In 1704, Dr. Sloane sustained a great affliction in the loss of his intimate friend and the companion of his pursuits in natural history, Mr. Ray. He had now enjoyed his society for more than twenty years, and had. corresponded with him during this long -period. Several of the letters are printed in the Collection of Correspon- dence between Mr. Ray and his Friends ; and others are preserved among the Sloane, MSS. in the British Museum.* The following is the last letter ever written by Mr. Ray, about ten days before his death, and presents an affecting, but consolatory, picture of the: state of mind of this great and good man, at that awful period. ** Dear Sir,—The best, of friends : these are to take a final leave of you in this world. I look upon myself as.a dying man. God requite your kindness, expressed any ways towards me, an hundred fold; bless you with a conflu- ence of all good things in this world, and eternal life and happiness hereafter: grant us an happy meeting in heaven. : I am, Sir, eternally your’s, Black Notley, Jan. 7, Joun Ray. * 1704-5. “ Postscript.—W hen you happen to write to my sincere friend, Dr.. Hatton, I pray tell him I received his most obliging and affectionate letter, for which FE return thanks ; and acquaint him that I was not able to answer it, or —” Here his strength failed him—he could write no more. Dr, | Sloane, soon after the death of his friend, was fortunate enough to - become acquainted with the celebrated Dr. Sydenham, who was. so * A list of such of the MSS. as: relate to. Sir Hans Sloane, will, we think, be acceptable to our readers :— No. 1968 Miscellaneous Letters and Papers. 2824 Catalogue ofa Collection of Medals made in Spain, bought by him.. 3328-9: Miscellaneous. Papers. 3400: A Poem, presented to Sir ii. S. by W. Howard. 3516: Other Poems to. him. 3692. Epigram to, by M. Mattaire, 3962 His Letters to Mr. Charleton. 3984, 4034 Medical Papers; on the Plague and on College of Physicians; and’ Letters to- him. 3998 Medical Papers. 4020,.4025 Papers on: Natural History. 4032. A Pocket-book, containing Medical, Cases, in. 1682. 4036 to 4070 Letters.to Sir Hans. Sloane. 4075-8 Medical Papers. 4288 His Letters to: R. des Maizeaux. 4298: Transcripts, by Dr. Birch. 4318 Letters) to, Dr. Birch, 8 MEMOIR OF $IR HANS SLOANE, BART. much attached to the subject of this memoir, that he took him into his house, and strongly recommended him to his patients. | In 1707, Sir Hans Sloane published, in folio, the first volume of his “ Voyage to the Islands of Madeira, Barbadoes, Nieves, St. Christophers, and Jamaica, with the Natural History of the herbs and trees, four-footed beasts, fishes, birds, insects, reptiles, Sc., illus- trated with the figures of the things described, which had not hereto- Sore been engraved, in large copper-plates as big as the life.” This was his first contribution to the general stock of knowledge, and when questioned on the subject of his voyage, he was used to say, that, independently of the gratification of a laudable curiosity, he deemed it a sort of duty in a medical man to visit distant countries ; for that the ancient and best physicians were wont to travel to the places whence their drugs were brought, to inform themselves con- cerning them. Speaking of the part of the globe which he had visited, he never ceased to deplore the irreparable loss of fame which this country had suffered in not being the first to partake in the glory of its discovery. ‘ When Bartholomew Columbus” said Sir Hans, “ was sent to England by his brother Christopher, in 1488, to persuade Henry VIII. to fit him out for this expedition, a sea- chart, of the parts of the world then known, was produced, and a proposal made to the king; but, after much delay and many unto- ward circumstances, both the map and the proposal were disregard- ed, and the money that had been first set apart for the purpose, and thought sufficient for the discovery of the new world, was ulti- mately expended in the purchase of a suite of fine tapestry hang- ings, brought from Antwerp, and afterwards used for the decoration of Hampton Court.” Notwithstanding the war between England and France at this period, the Doctor was elected a foreign member of the Royal Aca- demy at Paris. His fame, indeed, as a physician, now rapidly in- creased. He was consulted by the nobility and by royalty itself. Queen Anne often sought his advice, and was attended by him in her last illness. When George I. came to the throne, in 1716, the Doctor was created a Baronet, an honour which had never before been conferred on any English physician ; the king also made him physician-general to the army, which he enjoyed till 1727, when he was appointed physician in ordinary to George II., and continued to prescribe for the royal family till his death. He was a particular favourite with Queen Caroline, who placed the greatest confidence in his prescriptions. Sir Hans Sloane was elected president of the College of Physicians in 1719, an office which he held for sixteen MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 9 years; and was not only zealous in the discharge of the duties con- fided to him, but made the society a present of a hundred pounds, and remitted a very considerable sum owing to him by the corpo- ration. Sir Hans was no less liberal to other learned bodies ; he had no sooner purchased the manor of Chelsea than, in 1721, he gave the Apothecaries’ Company the freehold of their Botanical Garden, upon the following conditions, viz., the payment of five pounds per annum, and the yearly offering of fifty plants to the Roval Society, till the number amounted to two thousand., If it were attempted to convert it to any other use, it was to devolve to the Royal Society, and ultimately to the College of Physicians ; but the intentions of the original donor have been faithfully and liberally-fulfilled by the Apothecaries, who expend a large sum annu- ally, with no other view than the promotion of botanical knowledge, more especially in the cultivation of curious and rare plants. Lec- tures are also given twice a week during the season, which are at- tended by more than two hundred students. Sir Hans Sloane con- tinued a steady friend to this establishment, continually enriching it with scarce and curious plants. He likewise contributed largely towards the buildings and improvements of the garden.; and it was principally owing to his generosity and exertions that they were so soon completed for public inspection. As a tribute of gratitude, the Company of Apothecaries employed the celebrated Rysbrach on a marble statue of their benefactor, which is placed near the middle of the garden. On the north side of the pedestal is a Latin inscrip- tion, recording Sir Hans Sloane’s eminence as a physician, and his encouragement of botany ; and on the south side, the following :— They, Being sensible how necessary . That branch of science is To the faithful discharging the duty Of their profession, With grateful hearts, And general consent, Ordered this Statue to be erected, In the year of our Lord 1733, That their successors and posterity May never forget Their common benefactor.* * Faulkner’s Chelsea, p. 21. There is a full-length portrait of Sir Hans in the College of Physicians and in. the Gold-headed Cane, to which we are indebted for some anecdotes; there is also an engraving of the statue in the Botanic Garden, and a view of the latter. VOL. V.—NO. XVII. B 10 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. In 1727, Sir Hans Sloane succeeded Sir Isaac Newton in the presidency of the Royal Society, and was the first medical president of that learned body. Soon afterwards he presented to the Society one hundred guineas, and a bust of King Charles II., its founder, besides being mainly instrumental in procuring the endowment for Sir Godfrey Copley’s annual gold medal. In this year, Sir Hans published the second volume of his Natural History of Jamaica, &c., just twenty years after the appearance of the first ; and in the Pre- face to the former, he accounts for this long delay by enumerating the various articles which then formed his museum, and states that he had numbered and catalogued the whole of them himself, amounting to the immense quantity of nearly 40,000 articles, in- cluding 20,000 coins and medals, 2666 volumes of MSS., and 7,671 Greek and Latin medical authors,* without reckoning a great vari- ety of other books ;t and all this was effected, it should be remem- bered, not in learned leisure, but at intervals snatched from the ex- ercise of his profession, and from the hours usually devoted to sleep. During the greater part of the time employed in arranging and cataloguing his vast collections, Sir Hans was in constant attend- ance on the royal family, and his practice was, probably, as exten- sive as that of Sir Henry Halford or Sir Benjamin Brodie in the present day. From this period till 1740 he devoted a great part of his time to the fulfilment of the duties of the high offices which he held, to the enlargement of his museum, and to the “ diffsion of useful know- ledge :” not that sort of knowledge so ycleped in modern times—but to the promulgation of every discovery in the healing art which his wisdom and long experience considered beneficial in all those “ ills _which flesh is heir to.” Many marine productions, also, hitherto neglected and despised as useless, were, through his exertions, ren- dered articles of commerce to those who ‘ went down to the sea in ships, and beheld the wonders of the great deep.” ‘To these vari- ous occupations must be added that occasioned by the voluminous correspondence which he carried on, for a long series of years, with the learned and scientific in every part of the known world, and which are to be found among his other MSS. in the British Muse- um. These numerous friends and correspondents continually sup- * Van der Linden’s book, De Scriptis Medicis, published in 1687, consider- ed the best medical bibliography of the day, enumerates only 3937; to these Sir Hans added 3734; a sufficient instance of his zeal and industry in pro- moting the objects of his profession. + Sloane’s Jamaica, vol. ii.—Introduction, pp. ii., iii. MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 1] plied him with all sorts of rare and curious objects ; being fully per- suaded that they would be not only acceptable, but that the receipt of them would be immediately acknowledged with gratitude. At the age of fourscore, Sir Hans Sloane resigned the presidency of the Royal Society, when he was publicly thanked for the emi- nent services he had rendered to the society, and a request was made that his name might remain enrolled among the members as long as he should live. But the most extraordinary part of the life of this eminent man is the removal, at the age of eighty-one, of his_ museum and library from Great Russel-street, Bloomsbury, (a place to which it was so soon destined to return), to his new habitation, the “ Manor House,” at Chelsea. The few gifted persons who arrive at this octogenarian distinction, we believe, think only of re- moying to the domus ultima; not so Sir Hans Sloane: with an ener- gy not belonging to his years, he set about transporting this immense collection of books, MSS., and curiosities, to Chelsea. On the 12th of May, 1741, he commenced his residence there, and retired to to enjoy, in tranquillity, the remainder of a well-spent life. He did not, however, hermit-like, seek that solitude which excludes the blandishments of society—the only charm that, at this period of life, binds us to existence. Here, as he had done in London, he received the visits of persons of distinction, of learned foreigners, and even of the royal family, who sometimes did him that honour. An in- teresting account of one of these royal visits, in the year 1748, is given by a contemporary writer, and, as it affords the only record of the state of Sir Hans’s museum at that time, we shall make no apology for presenting some portion of it to our readers. ‘“ Dr. Mortimer, secretary to the Royal Society, conducted the Prince and Princess of Wales into the room where Sir Hans was sitting, being ancient and infirm. ‘The Prince took a chair, and sat down by the good old gentleman sometime, when he expressed the greatest esteem and value for him personally, and how much the learned world was obliged to him for having collected such a vast library of curious books, and such immense treasures of the valuable and instructive productions of nature and art. Sir Hans’s house* forms a square of above one hundred feet each side, inclosing a court; and three front rooms had tables set along the middle, which were spread over with drawers filled with all sorts of precious stones in their * This house was built by King Henry VIIL., and a print of it forms the frontispiece to Mr. Faulkner’s History of Chelsea. It was pulled down soon after Sir Hans’s death, and a row of new houses was standing upon the an- cient site in the year 1763.—Biographia Britannica, art. Sloane. 12 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. natural beds, or state as they are found in the earth. Here the most magnificent vessels of cornelian, onyx, sardonyx, and jasper, delighted the eye. When their royal highnesses had viewed one room, and went into another, the scene was shifted ; for when they returned the sume tables were covered, for a second course, with all — sorts of jewels, polished and set after the modern fashion, or with engraved gems ; for the third course, the tables: were .spread with gold and silver ores, with the most precious and remarkable orna- ments used in the habits of man, from Siberia to the Cape of Good Hope, from Japan to Peru ;t and with both ancient and mo- dern coins, and medals in gold and silver, the lasting monu- ments of historical facts: as those of a Pope Gregory XIIL., re- cording, on a silver medal, his blind zeal for religion, i in perpetuat- ing thereon the massacre of the protestants in France; as did Charles IX., the then reigning king in that country. Here may be seen the coins of a king of England crowned at Paris; a medal, representing France and Spain striving which should first pay their obeisance to Britannia; the happy deliverance of Britain by the arrival of King William ; the glorious exploits of a Duke of Mar!borough, and the happy arrival of the present illustrious royal family amongst us. w Le baler one hundred and ten feet in length, presented a most surprising prospect ; the most beautiful corals, erystals, and figured stones, and feathers of birds vying with gems; here the remains of the antediluvian world excited the awful idea of that great catas- trophe, so many evident testimonies of the truth of Moses’s history. Then a noble vista presented itself filled with books ; among these many hundred volumes of dried plants ; a roum full of choice and valuable MSS. ; the noble present sent by the French king to Sir Hans of his collection of paintings, medals, statues, palaces, &c., in twenty-five large atlas volumes, besides other things too many to mention here. Below stairs, some rooms are filled with the curious and venerable antiquities of Egypt, Greece, Etruria, Rome, Britain, and even America ; others with large animals preserved in the skin, the great saloon lined, on every side, with bottles filled with spirits, containing various animals. The halls are adorned with the horns of divers creatures, and with weapons of different countries ; among + This collection formed what is now called an Ethnographical Museum, comprising materials for the study of the customs and modes of life of the various branches of the human race; such as is to be found at St. Peters- burgh, in Holland, and various other places, and such as we think might form a separate department, with a curator, in our own National Museum. MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 13 which it appears that the Mayalese, and not our most Christian neighbours the French, had the honour of inventing that butcherly weapon, the bayonet. Fifty volumes in folio would scarce suffice to contain a detail of this immense museum, consisting of above two hundred thousand articles. ‘The prince expressed the great pleasure it gave him to see so magnificent a collection in England, esteem- ing it an ornament to the nation ; and expressed his sentiments how much it must conduce to the benefit of learning, and how great an honour will redound to Britain, to have it established for public use to the latest posterity.”* | Although Sir Hans Sloane had now for some time declined prac-_ tice as a physician, he never refused to give advice to any one, how- ever high his rank, or humble his station in society. During his retirement, also, he continued to promulgate such medical discove- ries as he deemed important; and did not, like many of his bre- thren, make a mystery of his profession. His encouragement of learned: men, whether native or foreign, commands our admiration. Among the latter may be named Job Ben Solomon, son of the Mo- hammedan King of Banda, who, after having been sold as a slave, and suffered many reverses of fortune, found his way to England, where his talents, dignified air, and amenity of character procured him friends, and among the rest Sir Hans Sloane, who employed him for a considerable time in translating several Arabic MSS. His memory was so retentive that, it is said, he could repeat the whole of the Koran by heart. Sir Hans Sloane’s patronage of artists is equally worthy of remark. He employed the celebrated na- tural history painter, George Edwards, for a great number of years, in drawing miniature figures of animals after nature, to increase his fine collection of drawings, on the same subject, by other masters. He also paid five guineas a leaf to M. Robert, a celebrated French artist, for drawings of plants, animals, shells, &c., which are con- sidered to be among the richest and most accurate of any period. To those must be adaed two volumes on vellum, from the pencil of Madame Merian. During Sir Hans Sloane’s retirement at Chelsea, George Ed- wards was accustomed to visit him every week, to divert him for an hour or two with the common news of the town, and with any par- ticulars that might have happened amongst his acquaintance of the Roval Society, or other scientific persons, and seldom missed drinking coffee with him on a Saturday. The old baronet was so * Gentleman’s Magazine, 1748, vol. xviti., p. 301, 2. 14 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. infirm as to be wholly confined to his house, except sometimes, though rarely, taking a little air in his garden, in a wheeled chair ; and this confinement made him very desirous to see any of his old acquaintance to amuse him. Knowing that the librarian did not abound in the gifts of fortune, Sir Hans was strictly careful that Edwards should be at no expense in his journeys from London to Chelsea; and the good. old man would calculate what the cost of coach-hire, waterage, or any other little charges attending on his journeys backwards and forwards would amount to, and, observing as much delicacy as possible, would oblige him annually to accept of it. George Edwards, who died at the age of eighty, was elected librarian of the College of Physicians in the year 1733, through the influence of Sir Hans Sloane, who continued, through life, his great patron. Edwards was an extraordinary man: when young, he had been intended for trade ; but having an opportunity to travel, he much improved himself, and when, on his return from abroad, he was lucky enough to. obtain the leisure which his office afforded him, he devoted himself to the study of natural history, and became by great assiduity, a distinguished ornithologist. During thirty- six years, he was librarian to the College, and in that period was chosen Fellow of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies, and by the first of these learned bodies was rewarded with the Copley medal, of which he was so deservedly proud as to have it engraved in the title-page of the first volume of his work. Hactenus hec. Hitherto the extreme temperance of Sir Hans Sloane had preserved him from experiencing much inconvenience from the infirmities of old age; but in his ninetieth year, it is re- corded of him, that he began to complain of pains, and to be sensible of a general decay. He was often heard to say, “‘ that the approach of death brought no terrors with it; that he had long expected the stroke, and was prepared to receive it whenever the Great Author of his being should think fit.” The long-expected moment at length arrived. With this highly-talented man and sincere chris- tian, there were none of those “dire tossings” and “deep groans” he must have so often witnessed in the hospitals over which he pre- sided, where * Despair Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch ; And over them, triumphant Death his dart Shook, but delayed to strike.” None of these horrors were present at the death-bed of our benevo- MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 15 lent physician: after a short illness of three days he tranquilly breathed his last, on January 11th, 1752. He was interred on the 18th, at Chelsea, in the same vault with his lady, the solemnity being attended by the greatest concourse of persons of all ranks and conditions that had been witnessed on any similar occasion. Seve- ral members of the Royal Society were present, and the pall was borne by six of that learned body. The funeral sermon was preach- ed by Dr. Zachary Pearce, Bishop of Bangor, who delivered a very affecting discourse from Psalm xc., 12,—*‘‘So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom”—but no mention was made of the exalted qualities of the deceased, in conse. quence of an express prohibition which he had pronounced a few hours before his death, considering it ‘a profanation to debase, with the praise of human excellence, the pulpit, which should be devoted to display to man the greatness of the Supreme Being and to instruct him in his laws.” In the south-east corner of the church yard of the old church at Chelsea, is a magnificent monument erected to the memory of Sir Hans Sloane and his lady, executed by Wilton, the statuary ; it is composed of Portland stone, on the top of which, under a portico, supported by four pillars, is placed a beautiful vase, of the finest white marble, with four serpents entwined round it, inimitably exe- cuted, all out of one piece ; on each side is an entablature, the arms* on one, and the crest on the other, with an inscription in memory of his lady, and the following, dedicated to Sir Hans Sloane. In the memory of Sir Hans Sloane, Bart., President of the Royal Society And of the College of Physicians ; Who, in the year of our Lord 1753, The 92nd year of his age, Without the least pain of body, And with a conscious serenity of mind, Ended a virtuous and beneficial life, This monument was erected, By his two daughters, Eliz. Cadogan and Sarah Stanley.t * Gules, a sword in pale, point downwards, blade and hilt or, between two boars’ heads couped at the neck ; on a chief ermine, a lion passant, of the first between two niascles, sable. Crest, a lion’s head erased, collared with mascles, interlaced sable. t+ Faulkner’s Chelsea, pp. 67, 68. 16 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. Sir Hans Sloane was easy and engaging in his manners ; his conyersation cheerful and obliging. Nothing could exceed _ his courtesy to foreigners ; he was always ready, at the shortest notice, to exhibit and explain to them such objects in his museum as they wished to examine. Once a week he kept open house for persons of all ranks, particularly for his brethren of the Reyal Society. His death was a severe loss to the poor, to whom he was, in every sense of the word, a liberal benefactor. He was a governor of every hos- pital in and near London ; to each he gave £100. in his life-time, and considerable sums at his death. Whatever proposal had for its object the “public good,” commanded his most zealous exertions. He promoted, as much as possible, the establishment of a colony in Georgia, in 1732: seven years afterwards, he was instrumental in establishing the Foundling Hospital, and formed the plan for bring- ing up the children, which proved the best that could be devised. Sir Hans Sloane was the first who introduced into England the general use of bark, which he applied, successfully, to the cure of many diseases: he also gave a sanction to the practice of inoculation. But the share he had in the foundation of the British Museum wil] most effectually preserve his name from oblivion. Having, with great labour and expense, during the course of a long life, collected a rich cabinet of medals, objects of natural history, &c., anda valua- ble library of printed books and MSS., he bequeathed the whole to the public, on condition that the sum of £20,000. should: be paid to his executors for the benefit of his family ; but which, according to his own declaration in a codicil to his will, made a short time before he died, was not a fourth part of the then intrinsic value of his mu- seum. Inthe year 1753, an act of parliament was passed, for the purchase of this and other collections, and the museum was opened to the public on the 15th of January, 1759. The persons appointed to conduct the affairs of this national insti- tution, were styled official, family, and elected trustees. The lat- ter, fifteen in number, chosen by the two former classes of trustees, (composed of the great officers of state and other distinguished indi- viduals), were then selected for their eminence in literature, science, and art. But this laudable custom, with some exceptions, gradu- ally fell into desuetude, and rank and wealth appear to have taken the place of literature and science. To remedy the evils sup- posed to have resulted from this practice, with a view to extend the public utility of the museum and to adapt it to the present advanced state of science and learning, an inquiry was instituted by Parliament, during the last session; and the committee have but MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 17 very recently concluded their valuable labours. A most important volume of evidence has been alr printed ; and another, equal, if not superior, in interest, may be expected in the course of three or four months. In the mean time, we have much gratification in lay- ing before our readers the following valuable Parliamentary Paper, presented to the House on the 2nd of August, by Sir Robert Peel : « Ata Committee of the Trustees of the British Museum, July 20th, 1836, the resolutions passed by the select committee of the House of Commons, appointed to inquire into the affairs of the Mu- seum, as printed in the Votes of the 14th instant, were read to the following effect :— “1, That the great accessions which have been made of late to the collec- tions of the British Museum, and the increasing interest taken in them by the public, render it expedient to revise the Establishment of the Institu- tion, with a view to place it upon a scale more commensurate with, and bet- ter adapted to, the present state and future prospects of the Museum. “2. That this committee do not recommend any interference with the family trustees, who hold their offices under Acts of Parliament, being of the nature of national compacts. 3. That though the number of official trustees may appear unnecessarily large, and though practically most of them rarely, if ever, attend, yet no in- convenience has been alleged to have risen from the number; and the com- mittee are aware that there may be some advantage in retaining in the hands of Government, a certain influence over the affairs of the Museum, which may be exercised on special occasions; yet if any Act of the Legislature should ultimately be found necessary, a reduction in the number of this class of trustees might not be unadvisable. 4, That with regard to the existing elected trustees, the committee think it very desirable that the trustees should take steps to ascertain whether some of those whose attendance has been the most infrequent, might not be willing to resign their trusteeships; that, in future, it be understood, that any trustee hereafter to be elected, not giving personal attendance at the Museun, for a period to be fixed, is expected to resign his trusteeship ; be- ing, however, re-eligible upon any future vacancy. 5. That in filling up vacancies, it would be desirable that the electing trus- tees should not in future lose sight of the fact, that an opportunity is thus afforded them of occasionally conferring a mark of distinction upon men of eminence in literature, science, and art. 6. That the extension of the collections which has taken place, and the still greater extension which may be looked for, render a further division of departments necessary ; and that at the head of each department there be placed a keeper, who shall be responsible for the arrangement, proper condi- tion, and safe custody of the collection committed to his care. 7. That it is desirable that the heads of each department shall meet once in three months, for the purpose of consulting with reference to any matters of detail relating to the internal arrangements of the Museum, which they may desire jointly to submit to the trustees in writing. VOL. V.——-NO. XVII. Cc 18 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 8. That whenever there may be a vacancy in the office of principal libra- rian, or in that of secretary, it is desirable that the distribution of the duties now discharged by those officers respectively, including the expenditorship, be reconsidered, and that the office of secretary be not combined with the keepership of any department. “9. That it is desirable that the hours during which.-the Museum shall be open on public days, be hereafter from ten o’clock until seven throughout the months of May, June, July, and August; and that the reading-room be opened throughout the year at nine o’clock in the morning. “10. That it is desirable that the Museum be hereafter opened during the Easter, Whitsun, and Christmas weeks, except Sundays and Christmas. day. “11. That it is expedient that the trustees should revise the salaries of the establishment, with the view of ascertaining what increase may be re- quired for carrying into effect the foregoing resolutions, as well as of obtain- ing the whole time and services of the ablest men, independently of any re- muneration from other sources; and that, when such scale of salary shall have been fixed, it shall not be competent to any officer of the Museum paid thereunder to hold any other situation conferring emolument or en- tailing duties. “12. That it is desirable that the heads of departments do consult toge- ther as to the best method of preparing, on a combined system, an improved edition of the Synopsis of the Museum ; that each officer be responsible for that part which is under his immediate control, and attach his signature to such part; and that the work be prepared in such a manner as to enable each part to be sold separately, which should be done at the lowest price which will cover the expenses of the publication. “13. That it is expedient that every exertion should be made to com- plete, within the shortest time consistent with the due execution of the work, full and accurate catalogues of all the collections in the Muséum, with a view to print and publish such portions of them as would hold out expec- tations of even a partial sale. “14. That it be recommended to the trustees that every new accession to the Museum be forthwith registered in detail, by the officer at the head of the department, in a book to be kept for that purpose; and that each head of a department do make an annual report to the trustees of the accessions within the year, vouched by the signature of the principal librarian, of desi- derata, and of the state and condition of his own department. “15. That it be recommended to the trustees to take into consideration the best means of giving to the public a facility of obtaining casts from the statues, bronzes, and coins, under competent superintendence, and at as low a price as possible. “16. That the committee are well aware that many of the alterations which they have suggested cannot be carried into effect except by increased liberality on the part of Parliament, both with respect to the establishment of the Museum, and also, to a much greater extent, for the augmentation of the collections in the different departments; but they confidently rely on the readiness of the representatives of the people to make full and ample provision for the improvement of an establishment which already enjoys a high reputation in the world of science, and is an object of daily increasing interest to the people of this country. MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. 19: “17. That the committee, in the alterations which they have suggested, do not mean to convey a charge against the trustees, or against the officers of the museum, whose talents, good conduct, and general and scientific acquire- ments are universally admitted ; and they are aware, that where imperfec- tions exist in the collections, those imperfections are mainly attributable to the-very inadequate space hitherto available for their exhibition, and to the limited pecuniary means at the disposal of the trustees; and they are of opinion that the present state of the British Museum, compared with the increasing interest taken in it by all classes of the people, justifies them in the recommendations contained in the above resolutions. “18. That the committee having taken into consideration the Petition presented to The House by Mr. Charles Tilt, and referred to the Comm:t- tee, which Petition prayed for public assistance in the preparation of a work from the medals in the British Museum, and having taken evidence on ‘the said subject, consider that in no way can they more satisfactorily discharge the duty confided to them by the reference in question, than by simply lay- ing before the House the minutes of evidence so taken, and ordering the Pe- tition of Mr. Charles Tilt to be placed as an appendix to that aviiene, and to these resolutions.” _ The trustees proceeded to consider these resolutions, and having adverted to each of them in order, resolved as follows :— “1. With respect to such matters in the first five resolutions as appear to call for the intervention of the trustees, this committee recommends the se- veral points to the serious consideration of the general board of trustees, whenever the occasions arrive for giving practical effect to these resolutions. 2. With respect to the 6th resolution, this committee advises the immedi- ate appointment of a sub-committee of trustees to make a personal survey of the Museum, and in conjunction with the beads of the existing departments and with such other gentlemen employed in the Museum as it may be thought expedient to consult, to take into consideration and report to the general board the best mode of giving effect to the said resolution. “3. With respect to the 7th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 13th, and 14th resolutions, the subjects matter of which appear to be conriected together, and have reference ' to new internal arrangements which may be immediately necessary, this committee is of opinion that the consideration of these resolutions, and of the best practical mode of giving effect to the recommendations which they in- volve, should be referred to the same sub-committee to which the 6th reso- lution is referred. “4, ‘That a special memorandum be made of the recommendations contain- ed in the 8th resolution with a view of ensuring the attention of the trustees to them on the first opportunity of vacancies. “5. With respect to the 12th resolution, this committee understands that measures have been already taken for giving effect to the recommendation contained therein. “‘6. This committee is further of opinion that a general meeting of the trustees should be convened at the earliest practicable period, for the pur- pose of deliberating upon the recommendations contained in the 15th resolu- 20 MEMOIR OF SIR HANS SLOANE, BART. tion, and of entering into such communication with the Chancellor of the Exchequer as may appear advisable, with reference to the financial consider- ations connected with the report of the select committee, and particularly with the 16th resolution of that report. * Extracted from the minutes. “ J. Forsuatr, Secretary.” Such are the various improvements recommended by the commit- tee, and, if these suggestions are properly followed out, and acted upon by the trustees, much public good may be expected from the recent inquiry. We regret to find, however, that neither the com- mittee, nor the trustees of the Museum allude to the necessity of a ~ classed catalogue of the literary treasures contained in the British Museum, consisting of about 220,000 printed books, 24,000 volumes of the most rare and curious manuscripts, and of more than 19,000 charters, which, without such aid, may be considered as little bet- ter than sealed books to the public. The British nation ought not to be satisfied with a comparatively worthless alphabetical catalogue, whilst the libraries of minor institutions are accurately classed ; more particularly since that public-spirited bookseller, Mr. Murray, of Albemarle-street, has offered to print and publish a classed cata- logue at his own risk, without any expense to the government. The annual grant, amounting to £21,974., about £4000. more than that for 1835, passed the House on the 8th of August ; and we lament to add that, notwithstanding several petitions had been presented to Parliament, signed by the most distinguished scholars and scientific persons of the day, praying for classed catalogues of the books and MSS., no notice whatever was taken of them in the debate on the grant, it being merely stated that a more perfect ca- talogue (alphabetical) would be ready by the end of the year. And this catalogue, it is understood, will be printed to the exclusion of a Catalogue Raisonné, the only useful aid to the literary treasures of the British Museum. 2) * A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE CLIMATES OF GREAT MALVERN AND LONDON, WITH MISCELLANEOUS METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS. WE have taken considerable pains to insure to our readers regu- lar meteorological reports for Malvern; a locality in every way interesting, both to the admirer of rural and picturesque scenery, and to the invalid. But the details of such registers are, we know, _ of minor value, unless accompanied with the results for the different seasons, and for the year. In our former volumes, these have been given for the seasons of 1834 and part of 35, in two papers entitled A Comparison between the Climates of Great Malvern and London ; and we are now enabled to furnish the following mean results for the remaining seasons of 1835 and 36. The tabular form in which they have been condensed and brought together in one view, will, we trust, render this communication valuable in a scientific point of view ; while the various observations with which it abounds cannot be otherwise than interesting to all classes of our readers. The leading facts of Meteorological Science are based upon cer- tain branches of physics, which require great leisure and devotion for their investigation. Thus, Astronomy takes cognizance of the causes of the seasons, and of day and night, and gives data for esti- mating the influence of the heavenly bodies upon the ocean and the air. Geology teaches us that the earth is probably cooling slowly, from a state of intense heat ; makes us acquainted with the nature of the several strata exposed to the influences of light, heat, and air; and affords some insight into the causes which were in opera- tion at their formation. Chemistry teaches us the nature of the atmosphere, and the modifications impressed upon it* by heat and vapour. Pneumatics and Electricity have each their share in esta- blishing data for meteorological inquiries. From these and other sources the ground-work of the science is established; but the super- structure depends upon the co-operation of its cultivators,who are re- quired to furnish materials requisite for a general comparison of facts. With this impression, and in order to establish the mean tempe- rature, atmospheric pressure, and dew point at Malvern, we avail ourselves of the following observations upon the seasons of 1835 and 1836, placing the results of the previous year beside them ; and it will be seen, notwithstanding the various daily vicissitudes of temperature, wind, rain, &c., how little is the variation when the 22 A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE CLIMATES OF _ means of a whole season are taken, and how nearly they all become neutralized in the general average for the year. The first column for Malvern, in the following Table, con- tains the summer and autumn of the year 1834, the winter of 1834 and 1835 (viz., December, 1834, January and February, 1835), and the spring of 1835 (viz., March, April, and May). The second column contains the summer and autumn of 1835, the winter of 1835 and 1836, and the spring of 1836. These remarks will also apply to the other Tables. TABLE I.—Mean temperature of the Seasons in Malvern and London, in 1834, 1835, and 1836. MALVERN. Lonpon. 1834-5) 1835-6)| 1834-5 1835-6 Summer ............ 59.8 | 61.0 || 65.2 | 65.0 A Uta «6. crn cies 50.1 | 49.3 || 52.7 | 51.8 TE REE i adios penhces 41.3 | 37.6 || 41.1 | 37.9 Speer To. es.ecccs 47.0 | 45.6 || 49.0 | 47.9 Mean temperature 49.6 of each year pirat 48.4 52.0 50.6 Mean of the two 49.0 51.3. = In the above Table, the cold winter and spring of 1835—6, are indicated by the lower mean temperature of these two seasons; and had it not. been for some hot sunny days in May, the mean for the spring of that year would have been still lower. The general opinion, we believe, is, that the winter in Malvern is colder than in other situations ; but the result of two years’ careful observation | has shewn that this season is as mild in Malvern as in London. A thermometer;in the shade ought to be considered as indicating a resultant temperature, not only from the action of the sun’s rayS.upon a variety of surfaces, all radiating heat of greater or less intensity—such as buildings, walls, the surface of the ground, &c, ; but also from condensations of moisture, such as clouds, fogs, &c. .. The evaporation and exhalation from green and growing sur- faces, and the absence of walls, buildings, pavements, &c., in the country, materially circumscribe the reflection and accumulation of heat, and tend greatly to render the maximum of the thermometer lower on a sunny day than where an arid or barren surface is exposed, as in sandy plains—or where houses are congregated, as in towns. In summer, during clear weather, the temperature of the air in GREAT MALVERN AND LONDON. 23 the shade rapidly increases in the day time—passing above the mean of the season ; whereas, in winter, during clear weather, the heat of the sun hardly counteracts the influence of terrestrial radiation : hence, in the clear sunny days of winter, the temperature of the air advances but little—the mean of this period being governed by va- pour; so that it is not at all uncommon for the thermometer to rise between sun-set and sun-rise from 10° to 15°. This has been no- ticed in a minor degree, as early as the month of October. The period of the maximum of the thermometer will depend upon several circumstances: during summer, if the morning is bright and fair, followed by clouds and wind in the afternoon, it will occur before noon—so it will if the sun shines in the morning and it rains in the afternoon: but if the morning is wet and the af- ternoon fine, the maximum is observed later. In winter, the maxi- mum of the twenty-four hours will occur in the middle of the day or the middle of the night, or at any other period, being governed by the movements of the great body of erial vapour and its con- densations. Clouds and rain do not always accompany the high temperature due to warm vapour, though they are not long in fol- lowing it: thus, in the Journal from which these remarks are taken, is the following :—‘‘ December 29, 1833, 11 p.m. Here is, to- night, a high temperature, (51°) and a high dew-point, (50°), yet it is very fine, the wind is high, and some heavy clouds are present,— but the intervals of blue sky are large, and the moon and stars bril- liant ;” but the next remark, the following morning at 9 a.m., is,— * heavy clouds and rain, and rain during the night.” Meteorological registers, in general, are not much to be relied on: the observations are recorded without any attention either to the accuracy of the instruments employed, or to the circum." stances in which they are placed. In the Philosophical Magazine, the only periodical exclusively devoted to science now published in London, are the details of a register kept at the gardens of the Horticultural Society ; and we should have expected that here some confidence might have been placed, had we not remarked the very great difference between these details and those of the Journal of the Royal Society, at Somerset House. Sir G. S. Mackensie has noticed this :—‘ I conceive,” he says, “no dependence can be placed on the thermometric observations made in the garden of the Horticultural Society. It is some time since I pointed out to Pro- fessor Lindley the defects of the apparatus. Instead of the thermo- meter being placed in the shade of a wall, it is exposed near the ground under a wooden roof, which absorbs the direct rays of the sun and radiates heat to the instrument. Thus the indications of » 24 A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE CLIMATES OF the maxima are too high.”* The minima are lower than at Mal- vern ; consequently the situation of the gardens must be favourable to terrestrial radiation. The mean minimum, also, is considerably lower than the mean minimum at Malvern. In showery weather, when the clouds spread themselves out in thin broad white sheets, a decline of temperature almost always en- sues. This spreading out of clouds is frequently seen during, or just after, thunder-storms; the massive-looking arched pillars of vapour, which indicate the tension of electricity, always lose their figure and spread over a larger space as the electric accumulation is expended during the storm. TABLE I1.—Mean height of the Barometer at Malvern and London, in 1834, 1835, and 1836. _ MALVERN. Lonpon. 1834-5|1835-6) 1834-5 1835-6 Summer ........00+- 29.282 | 29.399 | 29.875 |29.961 Autumn ........... 29.385 |29.123 | 29.975 29.690 Winter ........00000. 29 .435 | 29.303 | 30.036 29.776 Spring ......sse0-- 29.348| 29.176|29.931 29.777 Mean ofthe barome- | ter for each year 29.362 |29.250 esi 29.801 Mean of the two | YEATS .......0 0. 29.304 29.877 The result of these observations of the barometer has tended to _confirm ‘the opinion that the movements of accurate barometers within a moderate distance (100 miles) of each other, are nearly simultaneous and equal, except when the mercury is rapidly rising and falling, then some hours occasionally intervene in the progress of the atmospheric oscillations. Still the annual mean difference between two perfect instruments within the distance mentioned, after the necessary corrections, will be a tolerably true indication of the elevation of the one above the other. By referring to the ta- ble it will be seen that the mean difference of two years between the barometer in Malvern and that of the Royal Society, in Lon- don, is .573, or something more than half an inch; which would give the elevation of the village of Great Malvern within a very few feet of the height deduced by the barometrical measurement of * Vide Philosophical Magazine, vol. 7, p. 355. GREAT MALVERN AND LONDON. 25 the Worcestershire Beacon, published by Mr. Addison in a former volume of The Analyst. If the barometer falls to a very low point, and the wind is in- creasing in force, it usually blows very strong as the mercury be- gins to ascend, When westerly winds prevail, if the current shifts only a few points to the northward the barometer rises. We have yet to find the invariable conditions, if any such exist, which determine the changes of the weather: they are not disco. verable either in the pressure, temperature, or hygrometric state ¢ the atmosphere. It frequently happens with the barometer low, and the tempera- ture of the air at the dew point, that dense, low, dark clouds roll over for a day together, without rain; whereas, with the barome- ter at the same point, perhaps higher, and under the same circum- stances of temperature and vapour, rain falls from every passing cloud. Electrical and other changes which we cannot detect, no doubt occur in the higher regions, to bring about these various effects ; hence a decline of the barometer—even with a tempera- ture governed by vapour, 7. e., with the dew point not lower than the temperature of the air—does not always portend rain. During winter, when the barometer rises, the thermometer usually falls ; but in summer they generally rise and fall together. The reason for this will be understood from what has been said before; the rising of the barometer being generally accompanied by clear weather. ‘The clear days of summer are warmer than the cloudy ones ; but in winter the cloudy and wet days are the warmest. TABLE III.—Mean Dew Point at Malvern and London, in 1834, 1835, and 1836. Matvern. || Lonpon. 1834-5 1835-6 |1834_5|1835_6 Sumer 320i. ..05. 54.2 | 54.2 56.6 | 57.2 ERE TR eae 46.5 | 47.2 || 49.3 | 47.2 Winter 20. Oo Au. 38.2 | 35.6 || 37.7 | 32.3 Springisisios....<. 42.1 | 40.9 42.0 | 42.0 Mean dew en for each year.. 45.2 | 44.5 | 46.4 | 44.6 Mean of the two 44.8 45.5 yeare 2 2060.. VOL. V.i-— NO. XVII. D. 26 A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE CLIMATES OF This table is constructed from the indications of Daniell’s hygro- meter ; an instrument consisting of a glass. tube about six or eight inches long, bent twice at right angles, and terminated, at each ex- tremity, ina bulb. One of the bulbs, which is usually coloured, contains a very delicate little thermometer and a small quantity of ether ; the thermometer dips into the ether, which may be driven, by the heat of the hand, into either of the bulbs. Upon cooling the empty one, which may be done by pouring a few drops of ether upon it, the other immediately becomes cooled also, from the eva- poration of the fluid inclosed within it, while the thermometer, dipping into it, shews how much it is cooled. When using the in- strument, you narrowly watch the coloured bulb while the cooling process is going on; and at the moment when it becomes wetted ‘with dew, you note the degree at which the thermometer included in it stands, and this is the dew point. Sometimes a few drops of ether are sufficient to produce the effect, and the inclosed thermo- meter falls perhaps only a degree or two; this shews that the dew point is hardly below the temperature of the air, and the atmos- phere is damp. At other times it is required to wet the bulb seve. ral times; and dew is not produced upon the coloured ball until the inclosed thermometer falls ten, fifteen, or twenty degrees below ‘the temperature of the air; the atmosphere, under these circum- stances, being very dry. | This instrument is usually fitted to a little brass pillar, having affixed to it another small thermometer, which shews the tempera- ture of the air ; so that the comparison between this and the dew point may be made at the same moment. That the object and use of the hygrometer may be thoroughly understood, it should be remembered that the atmosphere consists of two essentially distinct fluids, one consisting of permanently elastic gases—constituting the air, properly so called—the other of aqueous vapour, which, within the range of the temperature of the atmosphere, is capable of assuming the eriform, the fluid, and the solid state. It is upon this that all the most important meteorolo- gical phenomena depend, such as dew, fog, cloud, rain, hail, or snow. It is to discover the existing quantity of this aqueous vapour when in its eriform or invisible shape, relatively to the tempera- ture of the air, that Daniell’s hygrometer is made use of. The dew point frequently is as high as the temperature of the air, during heavy rain, in damp weather, in the evening, and at night. The dew point is very often much below the temperature of the air in clear fine weather, and especially with N, E. winds ; GREAT MALVERN AND LONDON. 27 but it can never be higher than the temperature of the air: when the latter falls (supposing them at the same point) the former must fall also—the superfluous moisture (%.¢., some portion of the invisible vapour) being condensed either into dew, fog, clouds, or perhaps rain. In autumn, when the temperature of the air is advancing during the day, it often happens that the dew point advances as much, and in the evening, when the air is again cool- ing, the dew point must fall; its subsidence being accompanied by a copious deposition of dew, and where the lower strata of the atmosphere are chilled by radiation, by the appearance of mist or fog.’ The form in which moisture under these circumstances is deposited upon the ground, is much modified by the state of the air: if the wind blows strongly, surfaces become moist and perhaps wet ; it is only when the air is calm, that those minute drops, standing at the very tips of the blades of grass and upon every, the minutest fibre, constituting dew properly so called, can be seen. Air of the same temperature affects our sensations differently ; the impression is greatly modified by the force of the wind and the state of the dew point. When the atmosphere is calm, the tempe- rature moderate, and the dew point very high, it seems close, warm, and oppressive—sensations much diminished by a light breeze ; on the other hand, when the temperature is moderate, the air calm, and the dew point very low, the feeling is cool, bracing, . and plea- sant; but if the wind blows fresh, we then feel it cold, harsh, and disagreeable ; this last condition is very apt to induce catarrh, sore- throat, and rheumatism in those disposed to these affections. It is when the dew point is high that ladies’ hair falls out of curl, a ringlet is an elegant and delicate hygroscope. Every one must have observed, occasionally, the visible condensation of the breath ; this is a tolerable indication of the state of the vapour of the atmosphere, such an-appearance shewing that the temperature of the air and dew point are quite, or very nearly, the same : it may sometimes be remarked in the open air, before, almost always during, or just after, continued heavy rain. | During the winter season, (and the remark will apply generally to the autumn and spring), a rise in the thermometer and dew point at the same time, is a sure indication of clouds and rain. It often happens on a clear sunny day after rain, when evapora- tion is going on with the utmost rapidity, that the dew point does not rise, or, in other words, that the quantity of vapour in the low- er regions of the atmosphere does not increase, nor do clouds form in the higher ; the vapour, therefore, must be drawn off to distant regions. 28 A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE CLIMATES OF Sometimes when the weather is very foggy in the morning, the hygrometer exposed to it will not be dewed or moistened until the temperature of the dark bulb be reduccd two, three, or four degrees. When this occurs, the fog is usually succeeded by a clear and fine day. The following Table of the wind is arranged in accordance with the remarks made in the second volume of The Analyst, p. 221; and it appears that those to the south of the east and west points of the compass, in comparison with those to the north of these points, were, in the former year, as 15 to 10 at Malvern, and in the latter as 18 to 10; and they bore very nearly the same relation to each other in London—the numbers being, for the first year, 15 and a fraction to 10, in the last 19 to 10. TABLE IV.—Of the Wind at Malvern and London for the Seasons of 1834-5 and 1835-6. Vapour. Dry. Malvern. | London. |} Malvern. | London. 1834_5|1835_6 1834_5| 1835-6 1834-5) 1835-6) 1834-5) 1835-6 Summer......... 56 58 57 56 | 36 34 35 36 Autumn......... 57 61 49 60 || 34 30 42 31 Winter ......... 59 66 62 1) Ge ine: | 25 28 20 Spring ......... 47 | 51 | 52 | 54 || 45>} 41.]-40 |. 38 Totals for sich gta * \)219 | 236 | 220 | 241 | 146 | 130 | 145 | 125 Two or more different currents of wind may be frequently de- tected by observing the clouds. Sometimes the higher ones may be seen nearly stationary, the lower moving rapidly, either at vari- ous angles to the slow-moving higher ones, or now and then in an opposite direction. The primary indication of a change in the direction of the wind may be detected sometimes by noticing the appearance of clouds, even before they are influenced in their move- ments by the erial current. They display a great variety of circu- lar segments or curls, in a plane apparently parallel to the horizon —the convex face of the curl when below the zenith being turned downwards towards the horizon, whereas the convex arch of the eumulus is turned upward towards the zenith. The appearance here spoken of may be difficult to describe, but it is very character- istic. ‘The convexity of the curl is generally in the direction of the approaching current. When the air is calm, evaporation is proportionate to the inter- val between the dew point and the temperature of the air; it is ac- GREAT MALVERN AND LONDON, 29 celerated by the slightest current, and enormously increased by a brisk or high wind. In calm weather, if there is no interval between the dew point and the temperature of the air, there is no evaporation ; if the lat- ter rises evaporation commences, but if it falls precipitation begins. If when the dew point and the temperature of the air are the same the wind blows strong, there is then some degree of evaporation, and the air appears to carry with it particles of nascent vapour, something in the same way that it blows up the dust in our roads, the particles of vapour remaining visible, and rendering the air misty or, as it is termed, thick and hazy. TABLE V.—The number of days on which Rain or Snow fell during each Season in 1834, 1835, and 1836, MALveERn. Lonpon. 1834~—5/1835_-6) 1834-5 1835_6 Summer ......... 42 29 35 19 Autumn......... 26 50 21 45 to IY ITTGRT sls. teoe 28 38 34 33 ; Springs! *3. coi. 35 44 39 46 ine 131 161 129 | 143 In taking notice of rain and rainy days with reference to season and climate, the length of time during which it is falling is quite as worthy of regard as the quantity. As much rain may fall dur- ing a heavy shower in an hour or two as ina whole day’s mizzling rain ; and yet the former may be a fine, sunny, and beautiful day ; the latter, a wet and miserable one. The temperature of rain as it descends is, doubtless, very various ; it is generally of the same temperature as the dew point. What- ever the temperature of rain may be when it descends for an hour or two, the air and constituent temperature of the vapour will be equalized. The following remarks, taken from the meteorological journal to which we are indebted for the preceding tables and observations, may not be unacceptable to our readers. Jan. 23rd, 1824. Notwithstanding the extreme mildness of this winter, and the great quantities of rain which have fallen during the last thirty days, it has not been by any means sickly—all accounts seem agreed in this particular— though coughs, colds, and rheumatic attacks of a minor cha- racter, were observed in the early part of the autumn of 30 A COMPARISON BETWEEN THE CLIMATES, &c. 1833. Whether the salubrity of the season is at all attri. butable to the very boisterous winds of November and De« cember, we cannot venture to determine. March, 1834.. A remarkably dry month; with cold N. E. winds. Epidemic catarrh very prevalent. The spring and early period of the summer of 1834 very dry. Rain fell on the 4th of June very seasonably for all kinds of vegetation: the rest of the month was showery.— the early part of July was hot, with genial showers ; towards the middle of the month, heavy continued rain and. floods. August was generally wet, with a marked and continued decline of temperature towards the end. September was re- markably fine, October seasonable, and November mild anddry. 1835. On the 16th and 17th of April, after mild sea- sonable weather, the thermometer fell, at night, to 28°, or four degrees below freezing. Snow fell in London, and ice was seen in many places half an inch thick. This thermo- metric depression seems to have been very general, not only in this country, but in France, and other places. At Bour- deaux, the mercury fell, during the night of the 16th, to 25.5, having been for many days previously at 72” or 75.” An account of the sudden increase and subsequent rapid decrease of temperature which occurred in the month of June, 1835, will be found in our 3rd volume, p. 175. July and August,:1835, were hot and dry. Rain fell in quantity for the first time for some weeks on the 24th of the latter month: this was followed by a considerable decline of ‘temperature. .'The last few days of August and the first week in September were again hot and fine. On the 8th of the latter month heavy rain fell ; the remainder of the month was wet, and the temperature ratlier low. October was cold; cloudy, and, for the most part, wet; with some heavy rain towards the latter end of the month. The early part of November was cold, with heavy rain ; the middle mild, with showers, and fresh S. W. breezes. During the last two days of the month the rain was incessant. The first few days in December were mild. Frost set in severely on the night of the 19th, with snow, which continued, with fog and a beautiful hoar-frost, till the 28th. | January and February, 1836, were characterised by great alternations of temperature, with much snow and rain. For several interesting remarks upon the spring of 1836, we must refer to our 3rd volume, p. 348. W. A. 31 ‘ON THE RARITY OF CERTAIN BIRDS IN DERBY- SHIRE, ABUNDANT IN OTHER PARTS OF BRITAIN. By Nervitte Woop, Esa. Few features are more remarkable in the ornithology of the flat portions of this district, than the scarcity or the non-appearance of several birds which abound in almost every other part of the king- dom. As the ornithologist cannot fail being interested in the cir- cumstane2, I propose, in this paper, to give an account of such species, and to attempt to assign some reason for so extraordinary an occurrence. The Corn Bunting (Emberiza miliaria), according to every British author who has written on the subject, is common in every part of the kingdom, and as abundant in the Orkneys as elsewhere. Here, however, in the plain portion of Derbyshire, the species is rarely met with. I have seen it only in two or three instances in these parts ; and every one with whom I have conversed on the ‘subject appears perfectly ignorant of the existence of the “ Common ‘Bunting.” Near Tutbury, on the borders of Staffordshire, three miles from the spot where I formerly resided, it is seldom met with, and the nest, when found in that neighbourhood, is considered a rarity. But about a mile beyond Tutbury, and indeed in almost every part of Staffordshire which I have explored, it is as common as I have found it to be in other districts both: to the north and ‘south of this county. During the number of years which I have passed in Derbyshire, the species under consideration has always appeared to me in the light of a rare bird, and were it not for its ‘abundance in the adjoining counties, my knowledge of its habits would be very deficient. Its manners, or at least its general eco- nomy, are so familiar to almost every one, that they need not be detailed in this communication, especially as I have elsewhere en- larged upon them at some length.* The south west portion of Derbyshire is extremely fertile and well cultivated, and the corn fields, which everywhere abound, present as inviting an aspect as those of any other county ; and yet the Corn Bunting never makes its appearance, although it usually * In the British Song Birds. 32 ON THE RARITY OF CERTAIN BIRDS IN DERBYSHIRE. abounds in the best cultivated districts. I am, therefore, wholly unable to explain the cause of the non-appearance of the Corn Bunting in these parts; and amongst the numbers of scientific in- dividuals to whom I have communicated the fact, I never found one who could at all elucidate the problem, Corn Bunting is by no means a faultless designation, as its congener, the Yellow Bunting, and others, are fully as partial to corn as itself ; still, however, it is preferable to Common Bunting, and may, therefore, be allowed to remain for the present. I will now pass on to the next species. The Whitethroated Fauvet (Ficedula cinerea, Blyth), is well known, and abounds in almost every part of the British isles, though rather a rare bird in Derbyshire. Here, indeed, it is not met with more commonly than the Garrulous Fauvet (F. garrula, Blyth), It haunts, for the most part, the thickest and most impenetrable brakes, apart from which it is seldom seen. The Garrulous Fauvet occurs more frequently in thick hedges, and also in osier beds ; and though sometimes found in trees, usually resorts rather close to the ground. The comparative scarcity of the Whitethroated Fauvet may probably be accounted for by the paucity of underwood and braky woods in these parts, and likewise to the unremitting vigi- lance with which the woods are cleansed of what is probably consi- dered as rubbish, though, to the ornithologist, the thick impenetra- ble briers underneath the trees appear in a far different light. About eight years ago, the woods and their denizens enjoyed com- parative repose ; at that period, probably, the Whitethroated Fau- vet was as plentiful as elsewhere ; but of late the woods and groves have been much too thin and open to afford requisite shelter to these pretty birds: and should the rage for wood-cutting continue with the same zeal with which it has hitherto been conducted, we shall, in turn, have to regret the departure of others of our sylvan choristers. The next genus which claims our attention on the present occa- sion, is Picus, the Woodpeckers: Of these, the Green Woodpecker, (P. viridis), and the Pied Woodpecker (P. maculosus, S..D..W.), are equally and abundantly distributed throughout Britain; but here they are rarely observed, although decayed timber is far from scarce in this neighbourhood. Sudbury Park contains -an immense number of old and magnificent trees, exactly suited to the bill of the Woodpecker ; and yet, in all my researches in: that extensive Park, during eight or ten years, I have only thrice met with the Green Woodpecker, and but once with the Pied species. For this I can adduce no satisfactory reason; especially as many species of ON THE RARITY OF CERTAIN BIRDS IN DERBYSHIRE. 33 similar tastes, as the Wryneck, Nuthatch, Creeper, &c., are very common in this vicinity, and more especially in the Park above alluded to. _Even Bagot’s Park, (about eight miles distant), appa- rently yet more favourable to the Woodpeckers, is seldom enlivened with its loud laugh. I have met with the Green Woodpecker in abundance in Yorkshire, Nottinghamshire, and other counties. Having thus given some account of the very remarkable scarcity of several species common in most other localities, I shall proceed to notice a few which are abundant in Derbyshire and rare elsewhere. The most deserving of notice, is the Siskin Goldwing, ( Cardue- lis spinus), which all our Ornithologists describe as a rare and un- certain visitant, but as arriving in large flocks when it does appear. Now, both my own observations, and those communicated to me by others, tend to a totally opposite conclusion ; and indeed I have no hesitation in pronouncing the species indigenous in Britain. That numbers of them do migrate there is no doubt; but a tolerably large proportion of them, I am convinced, remain and breed with us ; though their shy and secluded habits during the spring and summer months prevent them, in a great measure, from being observed at that season. Indeed, so sedulously does it conceal itself in the midst of the thickest woods and forests, that though I have frequently heard it during the breeding season, yet to get a sight of it is by no means a easy matter ; and this, doubtless, accounts for its having been over- looked by the naturalists of other counties. I first discovered, to a certainty, that this species breeds in the south of Derbyshire, in the summer of 1831, when a pair of these birds were caught in the month of July. I have never been able to discover the nest ; pro- bably on account of its being built on the lofty and inaccessible trees to which it is so partial. It appears to prefer the fir to any other tree, where it is met with throughout the year, but most abun- dantly i in winter, when they arrive in considerable numbers from fo- reign parts. The Marsh Reedling (Salicaria arundinacea) is generally sup- posed to be confined to the southern counties, and Selby mentions Nottinghamshire as its northern limit. But it is tolerably abun- dant in every part of Derbyshire and Staffordshire which I have explored, frequenting the low, flat, and swampy portions of the country. It is, however, much less abundant than its garrulous congener, the Sedge Reedling (S. phragmitis). The supposed scarcity of the Siskin Goldwing and Marsh Reedling is doubtless owing to the. little attention 099 to ornithology, by those living in the country. ' VOL. V.—-NO. XVII. E 34 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. As apology always implies imperfection, it is,“therefore, a sus- picious feature in literature ; for as “‘ good wine needs no bush,” that which is bad is not improved by the confession. An apology is a cowardly device to escape censure, and a mean excuse for im- becility ; for an unworthy subject merits no attention, and a good subject badly treated deserves no lenity. The first question, then, to be resolved is the dignity of the sub- ject, and herein I require no appeal; my subject is one of the noblest character, no less than the image of nature, visible and in- visible. Is the subject old? so is nature herself; of which Shak- speare’s works are the transcript and express image. The more familiar we become with etther, the more novel do they appear; in this mirror is cast the exact and everlasting presence of nature in all her infinite variety, in which individuality is multiplied without confusion. A “ habitation” anda form are given to feeling ; what we have felt from nature in her combinations, Shakspeare has thrown back again and attached, by description, to particular objects: his poetry is the translation of our sensations when uature is the book we read in. As nature is coeval with time, Shakspeare will be coexistent with nature ; and while the human heart is susceptible of the same emotions and love for nature, Shakspeare will be felt as the in- carnation of her spirit. But Shakspeare needs no eulogist; his prerogative is divine, rapt in the awful originality of his genius— the predestinated priest of nature. The writings of our “philosophic poet” are not merely poetry, they are full of the profoundest truths in philosophy and religion, realized in our daily and hourly duties in private and public life. But if I were to call Shakspeare a “man of science” it would startle the “dull ear” of those monopolists of truth. Yet what is observation? The chemist pursues his discoveries within the walls of his laboratory ; the astronomer wakes the sleeping night with the mutter of his calculations; the meteorologist, the botanist, the physiologist, pursue their studies from atom to atom, until, struck with a coincidence, they affirm a law. The laboratory of Shak- speare was the whole world, the earth, the “wind-obeying deep,” the “ brave o’erhanging firmament fretted with golden fire.” He read, with an eagle-sighted eye, the universe of works, penetrated SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY, &c. 35 their governable laws, seized on their coincidences, and established truths as immortal as his own spirit. ‘The heart of man—* the centre of this world’”—was laid open, as a cabinet, before him, with the secret springs of feeling and passion. He studied the powers and susceptibilities of the instrument, and thereby predicted its operations. Such was Shakspeare, “‘in apprehension how like a god!” His genius was an Ithuriel spear that unshrined the hid- den spirit of nature and truth. Nature, in a thousand forms and attitudes, sat to him for her portrait, and in his “ picture gallery,” as Coleridge finely expresses it, are works which bear no resem- blance but in their master perfection and truth. Without scholar- ship he was profoundly learned—without opportunity he detected character—without rank he elevated his imagination to the throne, and pronounced with the nobility of a king. As though he had walked unseen through all states and degrees of life, and possessed men with his own spirit until it became infect- ed with their dispositions. Shakspeare, as a name, is national—as a work, none perhaps so little known in comparison with its worth. That delicacy of fancy, rounding, as with a zone of light, truths - the most solemn and associable—that loveliness of virtue—that passion of the affections—that consolation in trouble—that encou- ragement in labour—that delight of intellect ; while Nature, too, inall her loveliness rises up before the mind— “ Forest, hill, and dale, and green-wood wild.” It is remarkable that Shakspeare is the only poet whose works have been «illustrated by poetry: Homer, Virgil, Horace, are ex- plained and paraphrased ; Chaucer and the older pvets, translated ; Milton, criticised ; but none other than Shakspeare have been illus- trated by poetry. All the criticisms on Shakspeare are poetical. He is not only poetry himself, but he begets it in others ; he com- ‘municates the faculty as the flower its perfume; at once surprises the heart and awakens the affections; and he who possesses them most. understands hzm best. Compared with the chief. of modern spirits, Byron, how essential is this difference—that in Byron, every creation is identified with the poet himself ; we never forget the one in the other: but in Shakspeare, no two instances of this relativeness is observable; and for the god-like man himself, we never dream of him beyond the frontispiece: even his name is_be- come an attribute which, like Nature, expresses ten thousand ima- ges, but no one distinctively. 36 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND If in this composition I should be found transgressing against the eritical law of unity, I must be content to repose on the evidence of those great masters of language and composition, Johnson and Fielding. The former, in his life of Pope, remarks—‘ As the end of method is perspicuity, that series is sufficiently regular that avoids obscurity, and where there is no obscurity it will not be dif- ficult to discover method.” While the immortal Fielding, in the initial chapter (fifth book) of that incomparable work Tom Jones, overturns the bastard claims of criticism altogether. The quota- tions I select are too far distant from eachother to be related, which must render my style discrepant. But continuity is less necessary, as Shakspeare, like nature herself; has this peculiar ex cellency, that while the parts are essential to the whole, yet each part, like a beautiful tree or flower, is a picture in itself. With regard to the character of this composition, without refer- ring to those illustrious commentators of the poet, Steevens, Mas lone, Tyrwhitt, Schlegel, Hazlitt, and, though last yet first, the sweet and sensitive Jameson,* I shall merely reply, in the words of an eminent writer and critic, “If every line of Shakspeare’s plays were accompanied with a comment, every intelligent reader would be indebted to the industry of him who produced it.’ My object is to examine the philosophy, physical and moral, or the observances, of Shakspeare ; and if the work be uncalled for, the public at least encourage the undertaking, for would we patch up an argument, give strength to reason, argument to truth, and poetry to every thing, Shakspeare is always conclusive. Thus much for the worthiness of my subject, but how far it is worthily treated is not for me to pro- claim’; but if the reader have “ thought the same things a hundred times,” I rely confidently on a verdict in my favour ; for when an author’s thoughts are anticipated he is sure of approbation, since he has given a premium to vanity.t Following the order of the plays, we commence with THE TEMPEST. Shakspeare strictly adhered to, truth: his forms unknown were not as the ‘‘traveller’s tales,” reputed facts, however excusable the * Of all the illustrators of our poet, Mrs. Jameson is the most fascinating, the most true. Love, with her, is an instinct ; her very thoughts (noble as they are) are embued with sensibility ; her reasonings are of the “ woman all compact”—the Portia of her sex. + “ * That was excellently observed,’ say I, when I read a passage in an au- thor where his opinion agrees with mine; when we differ, there I pronounce him to be mistaken.”—Swift. OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 37 deceit in so superstitious and ignorant an era. The same piercing glance penetrated what was true and what was false, and though he so often represents supernatural and strange creations, they are strictly fictitious ; and while he advanced truth he repudiated error, even where ignorance was excusable. In this respect our poet dif- fered from the philosophers, Bacon and Boyle, whose faith therein is frequently observable. In the magical play of The Tempest, Shakspeare availed himself of the strange superstitions of his times, and even borrowed the outline from the histories which travellers had written. . The scene is laid in one of the Bermuda Isles. The following may be interesting to the reader :—In the year 1609, Sir George Sommers voyaged to the Bermudas, and was shipwrecked, the account of which was published by Silvester Jourdan, an eye- witness. The pamphlet was styled, A Discovery of the Bermudas, or Isle of Devils, &c. &c. Stowe, in his Annals, has this singular passage, relating also to the same event :— Sir George Sommers, sitting at the stearne, seeing the ship desperate of relief, looking every minute when the ship would sinke, hee espied land, which according to his and Captain Newport’s opinion, they judged it should be the dreadfull coast of the Bermodes, which islands were of all nations said and supposed to bee enchanted and inhabited with witches and devills, &c. &c.” The name of The Tempest, is even supposed to have been borrowed from this recital’ “ of the still-vext Bermoothes.” Thus, also, in Othello’s account of the “ anthropophagi, and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders,” it is given as an exaggerated tale, and arose from the monstrous fables which hung over the Indian shores, then recently discovered. We see how far these tales were credited by Shakspeare, when he turns them to ridicule. “ Sebastian._Now I will believe © That there are unicorns; that in Arabia There is one tree, the phoenix’ throne ; one phoenix At this hour reigning there. Antonio.—I’1l believe both; And what does else want credit, come to me, And I'll be sworn ’tis true: travellers ne’er did lie, Though fools at home condemn them.” Thus the poet takes as agency what is necessary to his play, but merely as fiction. The Tempest is a dream or phantasy, in which sublime truths and natural observances are interwoven with our affections and superstitions. 38 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND In the second scene Prospero and Miranda are introduced. The dignified prince and subtle scholar bows himself to the tender fears and inquiries of his daughter, listens to her fond humanity, quiets her apprehensions for ‘‘ the brave vessel who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her,” and, “the time being come,” prepares her for those events which are advent by the discovery of their “ birth and lineage,” his former life, his sufferings, his bereavements. How tenderly Prospero attaches his child to his nature by the reci- tal of his history, the idolatry of his heart, for her whose innocent smile infused a fortitude from heaven! “ Plucking his magic garments from him,” figuratively, putting off formality, abstraction, all thought but of his Miranda, at once the father, unscholared, free, and unconstrained, to meet the simple unmasked nature of his child. He associates his relation with her early remembrances. * Prospero.—Can’st thou remember A time before we came unto this cell ? I do not think thou can’st ; for then thou wast not Out three years old. Miranda,—Certainly, Sir, I can. Prospero.—By what ? by any other house, or person ? Of any thing, the image tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance. Miranda.—’Tis far off: And rather like a dream than an assurance That my remembrance warrants,” &c. How beautiful is this filmy memory of childhood—how true to nature! ‘Tis far of.” To youth, the recollections of childhood are indistinct ; the mind is prospective, hopeful, changeful; but in old age, in second childhood, the mind retrospects, hope fades into memory, and then, looking “ into the dark backward abysm of time,” the prattle of infancy returns, early associations recur, and what in youth is a dream, becomes an assurance. This passage in- volves some most important physiological truths, as the physical changes of septennial periods. It is an extraordinary fact, and well known to professional men, that a blow on the head, or cerebral dis- turbance, may be followed not only by the imbecility of age, but by its peculiar mental changes, particularly in the recal of early associa- tions and events, with the loss of all those intermediate. The in- stance of the Welsh woman in St, Thomas’s Hospital, who, after such an accident, not only recalled her native tongue, which she had. not spoken for twenty years, but totally forgot every word of her accustomed English, is well known in the profession. OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 39 But let us follow this ‘‘ poor man” whose “ library was dukedom large enough.” In the words of Chaucer— “ ___. he would rather, at his bed-head, A twenty books, clothed in black or red, Of Aristotle, or his philosophy, Than robes rich, rebeck, or saltery.” The namé of Prospero might be added to the list of the cala- mities of genius. After recounting his twelve yrene banishment, he intimates the period of their release. © Prospero.—Know thus far forth: By accident most strange, bounteous Fortune, Now, my dear lady, hath mine enemies Brought to this shore: and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star ; whose influence, If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop.” This passage exactly corresponds to that. of Brutus, “ There is a tide in the affairs of men,” and also in Troilus and Cressida, “I have important business, the ade whereof is now.” The period in which Shakspeare lived was remarkable for the twilight which hung long dawning over the ignorant and besotted mind, when knowledge was concentrated in the individual ; then study meant mystery, and science witchcraft. Chemistry had not risen out of the alchymist’s crucible, and astronomy lay hidden beneath the jar- gon of astrology. Thus, our poet refers to the “auspicious stars,” but, like a true philosopher, he does not make the stars do all the work, but rather trusts to the energy of his own character. Pros- pero advantaged the time, and thus the “ flood of fortune” might oftener return if we were ready to take our venture. In the next scene “ quaint Ariel” appears, that delicate spirit. Prospero inter- rogates Ariel respecting the tempest— ) “ Hast thou, spirit, Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade thee ? Ariel.—To every article. I boarded the king’s ship ; now on the beak, Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement: sometimes I’d divide, And burn in many places ; on the top-mast, The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, Then meet, and join.” 40 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND The phenomenon called St. Elmo’s light, will be readily recog- nized in this elegant description of Ariel’s. It is supposed to be an electrical phenomenon, which generally appears before tempestuous weather. It is mentioned by Pliny in his Hist. Nat., as also by Seneca and many subsequent writers. -Douce supposes that Shak- speare consulted the works of Stephen Batman, who, speaking of Castor and Pollux, says, “they were figured like two lamps, or cresset lights, one on the toppe of a maste, the other on the stemme or foreshippe.” Douce adds, that “ if the light first appears on the stem, or foreship, and ascends, it is good luck; but if either lights begin at the top mast, and descend toward the sea, it is a sign of tempest. By taking the latter position, Ariel had raised the storm according to the commands of Prospero.” The following extract from a modern author will be more inte- resting to the reader :—‘ St. Elmo’s light is a luminous meteor that frequently settles upon the mast-head of vessels, and is, pro- bably of electric origin, though it is never known to produce any of those disastrous effects which so often attend lightning. Sometimes it is confined to the mast-head, while at other times it gradually descends the mast to the deck itself. It was formerly supposed, by mariners, to be the visible representation of the spirit St. Elmo, who is the tutelar deity of those who traverse the mighty deep. When it is confined to the top-mast, it is a proof, in their opinion, that although bad weather may be present, yet it will not continue, and cannot injure the vessel: but when it descends the mast, it prognosticates a gale of wind, ora disaster, &c., &c.” The unfortunate poet, Falconer, alludes to this phenomenon: “¢ High on the mast, with pale and livid rays, Amid the gloom portentous meteors blaze.” How beautifully Ariel describes the terror and furious broil of shipwreck : it is all noise and wild contention,—‘ not a soul was firm”— ‘*¢ Ferdinand, With hair up-starting, (then like reeds, not hair), Was the first man that leaped.” Shakspeare has frequently alluded to this effect of fear; as in Richard the Third :-— “My hair doth stand on.end to hear her curses.” Also in Henry VI., &c. This is a physical fact, and produced by the erectile tissue of the scalp, of course involuntary. OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 4} We leave Ariel to plead his liberty with his stern master, whose introduction of the birth of Caliban, the ‘ duke’s —— ” is admira- bly managed— “ Prospero.—Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself. Upon thy wicked dam, come forth ! Caliban.—As wicked dew as e’er my mother brush’d With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen, ‘Drop on you both !” Though Shakspeare must have read very extensively, and proba. bly works not confined to his own language, yet, for the most. part, his observations are practical ; he saw readily, and judged correctly. Subtle in his scrutiny of natural phenomena, he ascended from effects to causes, or by a comparison of causes predicted their effects. Stagnation is the matrix of infectious breath, or miasm. The “ un- wholesome fen” is the abode of plague, pestilence, and death. In the catalogue of mortal ills, pestilence is the most direful ; millions are yearly sacrificed to the ‘“‘ vapours of decay” that float off the green and livid pools and lakes so common in India. In our own county of Lincolnshire, intermittent fevers are indigenous to the cold, damp soil and marshes that generate them. In America the same evils occur, and from the same causes. . The poet has admirably chosen the “ wicked dew” for the curse of Caliban, who must be supposed ignorant of the evils which so- ciety inflicts on herself; while the ‘“ breath of the noxious south” was slow, insiduous, and fatal, working as a charm. In the 2nd scene, act 2nd, the monster appears again, and renews his curse— * Caliban.—All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him, By inch-meal, a disease.” This resembles the arrows of Apollo, in the 1st book of the Iliad, “ Whose direful darts inflict the raging pest,” and exhibits the real workings, cause, and effect of the “ pestilence that walketh in darkness.” How shudderingly horrible, “ inxch- meal, a disease!” human revenge could not conceive nor utter such a curse ; the language is part of the monster. In the second Act, appear Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, and others. ‘This scene somewhat resembles the “ Forest of Ardennes, with the deposed Duke and his gay brothers in exile ;’—they come to an encounter of their keen wits, making their “ words wanton.” VOL. V.—NO. XVII. F 42 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND The anecdote of Dominie Sampson’s wearing apparel strikingly coincides with the following speech of Gonzalo, and was probably suggested by it :— The only remark he (Dominie Sampson) was ever known to make upon the subject, was, that the air of a town like Kipple- tringan, seemed favourable unto wearing apparel, for he thought his coat looked almost as new as the first day he put it on.” “ Gonzalo.—That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding their freshness and glosses; being rather new dyed, than stained with salt-water. Antonio.—If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies ? Sebastian.—Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. » Gon.—Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on in Afric.” , The old courtier, again, asks—. “Ts not, Sir, my doublet As fresh as the first day I wore it.” The images of one of the most exquisite verses of Byron conform nicely to the following passage relating to the loss of Ferdinand— they are both real and powerfully true. The masculine strength displayed in Ferdinand’s exertions is most exciting.* « Francisco.—Sir, he may live ; I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head "Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’d Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To the shore, that o’er his wave-worn, basis bow’éd, As stooping to relieve him.” Foscari, looking from his dungeon on the fresh waves of the blue Adriatic, breaks out, with all the delighted eloquence of a young unbow’d heart, “ How manyatimehaveI Cloven with arm still lustier, breast more daring, The wave all roughen’d ; with a swimmer’s stroke Flinging the billows.back from. my drench’d hair, And laughing from my lip the audacious brine, * Shakspeare’s heroes are genuine flesh and blood, the very opposite of the sickly sentimental offspring of “a modern gentleman.” 'The same pe- euliar excellence belongs to Fielding, Smollett, and Scott. OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 43 Which kiss’d it like a wine cup; rising o’er The waves as they arose, and prouder still The loftier they uplifted me; and oft, In wantonness of spirit, plunging down Into their green and glassy gulfs, and making My way to shells and sea-weed, all unseen - By those above, till they wax’d fearful; then Returning with my grasp full of such tokens As show’d that I had search’d the deep: exulting With a far-dashing stroke, and drawing deep The long-suspended breath, again I spurned The foam which broke around me, and pursued My track like a sea-bird. I was a boy then !” How beautiful! How voluptuous! He even swims like a lover. Byron is the Shakspeare of tne ‘ world within us,” not that of untaught nature, but of man in the highest state of civilization. Among the opinions of men, none are so eccentric as those of human happiness ; and while every individual, however mean, has somewhat to hope, it is only great minds who have wandered into this many-coloured speculation, and laid down schemes for its reali- ty. From the time of Plato to the Owenites of to-day, the golden age of universal love has been imagined and sighed for ; as though the lingering regrets of our first parents had clung to our natures as one of its elements. The Eden of earth, by an easy transition, is transfigured in the blissfulness of heaven: what was imagined possible in time, is interwoven in our religious faith as the reality of eternity. The Eutopiists can number names the most illustrious in the history of the world, “‘ who have set forth the law of their own minds.”"* The French philosophers, nationally speculative, too eager for perfection to be patient of reform, would anticipate the “ final doom,” and foretell a new earth rising out of the universal overthrow. The Owenites of the present day, advance irrefutable arguments, and with an almost divine prescience, ee to them- selves the millenium of the christian. It is probable that Shakspeare had read the Republic of Plato: not that a mind so expansive could not have imagined what is ‘so essential an element in poetry, but the following striking passage is, at least, a precedent for successive Atalantata, yuere Bacon and Moore might have beheld their Edens :— “ Gonzalo.—Had I the plantation of this isle, my lord,— Antonio.—He’d sow it with nettle-seed. * Petrarch. 44 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND Gon.—And were the king of it, what would I do? Seb.—’Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon.—I’ the commonwealth, I would by coniraries Execute all things: for no kind of traffic Would [ admit ; no name of magistrate ; Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, And. use of service, none; contract, succession, Bourn,* bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation ; all men idle, all; And women too, but innocent and pure ; No sovereignty.” Seb.—And yet he would be king on’t. Ant.—The latter end of his commonwealth Forgets the beginning.” Gon.—All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine — Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foizon, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.” The “ wilderness of sweets” with which Milton has sated the fancy in his ‘‘ Eden” is not more comprehensive than this fine pas- sage. The best comment which modern writers offer on the golden age is that of Coleridge, in his Friend ;+ a work, with all its ex. cellence, so little known that a quotation will be sure of novelty ; I hope the reader’s attention may be directed to the work itself. Of the very few friends whose “adoption I have tried” Coleridge is the most constant, the wisest, the best. ‘‘ Antecedent to all his. tory, and long glimmering through it as a holy tradition, there pre- sents itself to our imagination an indefinite period, dateless as eter- nity ; a state rather than atime. For even the sense of succession is lost in the uniformity of the stream.” It was towards the close of this “golden age” when conscience acted in man with the ease and uniformity of instinct—when la- bour was a sweet name for the activity of sane minds in healthful bodies, and all enjoyed in common the bounteous harvest, produced and gathered in by common effort—when there existed in the sexes, and in the individuals of each sex, just variety enough to permit, and call forth the gentle restléssness and final union of chaste love and individual attachment, each seeking and finding the beloved one by the natural affinity of their beings—when the dread Sove- * Landmark. : + The Friend; a series of essays, in three volumes, to aid in the formation of fixed principles in politics, morals, and religion, &c., by S. T. Coleridge. OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 45 reign of the Universe was known only as the Universal Parent, no altar but the pure heart, and thanksgiving and grateful love the sole sacrifice. How far we are to receive the doctrine of human perfectibility— not by conversion, but rather creation—from infancy to age,* the reader must determine by a self-examination of the arguments. Certainly all inclination implies acquirement, which also involves agency or cause, and that cause must be independent of our will, otherwise a contradiction in terms. But it may be dangerous for an individual to pursue this inquiry ; the world is not yet ripe for reason. “ Alonzo.—I would with such perfection govern, Sir, To excel the golden age.” Thus discoursing, they “lose and neglect the creeping hours of time.” Ariel enters, and with his music ‘ charms up their sense in sleep.” “ Alonzo.—W hat, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find They are inclined to do so. Sebastian.—Please you, Sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It seldom visits sorrow ; when it doth . It is a comforter.” That is, the consciousness of thought. Shakspeare has minutely anatontised sleep, in all its states and relations: there is nothing within its verge but he has described. Dr. Young’s apostrophe to sleep, though fine, is but an amplification of this one line— ; “It seldom Visits sorrow ; when it doth Itisa comforter.” How perfectly the balm of sleep is appreciated !—it is veieel into, positive enjoyment. ‘ _“ Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of care.” Shakspeare must often have shuddered at the agonies he depicted, and thereby grew finely sensible of “the balm of hurt minds.”— His personification of sleep, in Henry IV., is above all praise. _“ Sebastian.—W hat a strange drowsiness possesses them ! Antonio.—It is the quality o’ the climate.” This is another of those signs of observation, and expresses more * Owenism. 46 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND than Shakspeare could have anticipated. Common experience tells us many truths, and this among the number, that change of climate affects us in various ways, influencing both the nervous and san- guineous systems, but more especially the nervous. Fresh air is peculiarly sedative, especially to those long excluded from it. This, of course, is self-evident ; but the poet here implies a peculiar state of the air, or “ quality of the climate:” “the dull and drowsy ayr.”* That the air is susceptible of changes in its density and rarity is sufficiently plain, as are its effects upon the body. In as- cending mountains the changes of climates are sensibly felt, and drowsiness is a common result, even when independent of change of temperature. The atmosphere cannot be varied in its elements or their proportions without injury to life, and therefore these qualities of the climate must depend upon some extrinsic and super- added agent, which is most probably electricity, the animi mundi and animating cause of every atmospheric phenomenon, whether of the “swift-winged cloud,” black and impetuous,t or the filmy gauze high up amid the stars of heaven. Some persons are more powerfully affected by atmospherical changes than others, and more so during the summer solstice, when the atmosphere is positively electrified. Females, particularly, are influenced by thunder-storms, and in some instances so strongly as to induce hysteria and epilepsy. The sensibility of an amputated limb, or a once-fractured bone, during atmospheric changes, is gene- rally known. Even a “ shooting corn” is no mean barometer. Considering the identity of electricity with the “nervous fluid,” these and every such like sympathy between man and the external world is explained. Soil and vegetation are of course essential to the “ quality of the climate,’ which in “producing sleep,” as Antonio remarks, “is just philosophy, though but common observance.” : The humourous Trinculo, discovering Calaban, comments most wisely on the monster :— Trinculo.— * What have we here? a man or a fish ? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a Very ancient and fish-like smell. * Spenser. + The nimbus. The cirrus, so prevalent in summer, especially in the quiet repose of evening. In the advancement of science, that of meteorology, one of the most interesting,*and yet neglected, may hereafter inform us how to oppose those evils which surround us; for science is useless unless it be applicable to our wants. OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 47 . * Soi strate Were I in England now, (as once I was), And had but this fish painted, Not a holiday fool there but would Give a piece of silver: there would this monster Make a man; any strange beast there Makes a man. When they will not give a doit To relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten To see a dead Indian.” “ Qui credit Stultus stultum vult, ut sit sui similis.”* “Et nati natorum et qui nascentur ab illis.”+ The monomaniz of Shakspeare’s characters, as in The Tempest, Macbeth, Hamlet, Julius Cesar, &c., outrivals all reasoning. Had Shakspeare been a Pinnel he could not more nicely have delineated “the mind’s extacy.” Though spiritual agency is represented in The Tempest, the visitation to Alonzo is called extacy by Gonzalo, to whom also Ariel would have been visible unless he was blinder than Balaam’s ass. The guiltless good old lord, Gonzalo, was in- sensible to the appearance, and himself attributes the language of Alonzo, &c., to their ‘‘extacy ;” which word Shakspeare uses for any degree of mental alienation. But of this more “ anon.” 3 The situation of Ferdinand and Miranda living for themselves, with such a total giving up of the heart, in the solitude of that lonely isle, is inconceivably beautiful. Byron’s Haidee and Juan are more sensual, but far less lovely and pleasing. Haidee quickens the pulse, but Miranda awakens the affections. A model for Eve, ‘so perfect and so peerless, created of every creature best.” Mrs. Jameson has exquisitely touched the character of Miranda— it is sacred. Prospero, with all his philosophy, is a most subtle dis- cerner. He reasoned like a god, but he felt as a man and a father. Prospero to Ferdinand.— Look thou be true; do not give dalliance Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i’ the blood.” ' Eve fell knowing no ill ; Miranda could not have sinned, but her innocence made chastity with Ferdinand a double virtue, and he was a Milanese and a courtier. * Not in Terence. Free translation, “ One fool makes many.” + Juvenal. 48 SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOsOPHY, &c. “ Basium nullo fine terminetur.” The masque of Prospero is a most fascinating episode in the play ; it overflows with poetry. Milton’s Comus is a more laborious com- position, but much beneath Shakspeare in the luxuriance and poetry of the light and fantastic train. * Enter Iris. * Tris.—Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease ; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatch’d with stover, them to keep ; Thy banks with peonied and lilied brims, Which spungy April at thy hest betrims, To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, &c. Ceres.—Hail ! many-coloured messenger, that ne’er Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter ; Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowers Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers : And with each end of thy blue bow, dost crown My bosky acres, and my unshrubb’d down— Rich scarf to my proud earth,” &c. How lovelily this is painted! we behold at once the flowers and fields with “ warm rain wet,”—the checquered cloud,—* the rain- bow, based on ocean, span the sky.” This play ends with a most happy consistency: unlike the “ ca- tastrophies” generally, there is no abruptness, nor awkward inter- lopations. ‘Things come about inevitably, because naturally ; and the reader is content to leave the chaste Miranda to the delights which are to open before her in the new world to which she hastens ; and yet we may possibly feel some regret that the “spirit of that sweet Isle” was departing, that the “lime grove” would be for- saken, that no voice would ever more awaken the solitude of their cell. The wand is broke—“ those strange books drown’d far beyond the plummet’s reach”—Prospero’s Duke of Milan—Caliban has sued for motley—and “ fine Ariel” is free! : REMARKS ON AN IMPORTANT BRANCH OF FEMALE EDUCATION. AutHovueH the following remarks connected with this topic of universal interest may contain nothing strikingly new, yet the per- son who states facts, and observations drawn from experience, adds to the common stock of data from which the man of wider intellec- tual views and greater faculty for generalization may deduce a lead- ing principle. It must be felt by all who have a share in educating girls that there is extreme difficulty in holding any intercourse with them on the subject of love, restricting the meaning of that word to affec- tion between the sexes, It may excite a smile to see this topic gravely brought forward; but truly there is little to provoke mirth, and much to cause sorrow, in the contemplation of those bitter and unavailing regrets, the undermined health, and the im- paired tranquillity, which are the lot of so many women, owing principally to the defects which prevail in this branch of education. Every one who approaches this subject feels instinctively that there is awkwardness and difficulty in treating it; and this very feeling gives a key to some of the prevailing errors that exist there- upon. Let us examine the cause from which this difficulty arises. Is it not that we have confounded right and wrong? that we have attached an idea of shame to that of which we need not be ashamed ? that our zeal for delicacy has led us into a habit of mystification, which does not promote the interests of true modesty ? It must always be desirable to define the boundaries between right and wrong ; the narrower the line is, the more it requires to have light thrown upon it, and it is a shallow and futile expedient to turn away from an inevitable difficulty, instead of facing it. Yet is not the former the course generally resorted to in the case of which I speak? Perhaps the best way of finding what would be right, is, to ascertain what is wrong. How then are girls trained? When their increasing perception and natural curiosity lead them to inquire concerning what they see and hear, the answer, in a multitude of instances, is “ Never mind, my dear, it is no matter to you,” or “ You must never ask such questions, they are not proper;” or, worse, they are told some absurd falsehood, which, however, rarely deceives them. Any one who has been accustomed to hear girls read aloud will know that it is surprising at how early an age VOL. V.—NO. XVII. G 50 REMARKS ON AN IMPORTANT BRANCH they will detect and omit the words and phrases which refer to any of these interdicted subjects. And how has this knowledge been obtained ? Not through the legitimate means of a simple commu- nication from the mother or teacher, but by some indirect, and often polluted, channel. Or should a girl escape this temptation, and in. her simplicity ask the meaning of any expression she does not un- derstand, instead of hailing and encouraging this frankness, the parent or instructor generally gives some evasive auswer, or has recourse to the infallible sedative to all curiosity, ‘‘ Never mind.”— Never mind ! Can any woman be so utterly blind and forgetful as to suppose that a girl will “ Never mind?” No; but, repulsed in her straight-forward inquiries, she will resort to other sources of information. Keep her out of the way of servants, she will con- verse with companions a little older than herself: separate her from these, still she will contrive some way of gratifying her curio- sity. The partial information she acquires will excite further acti- vity of mind ; and thus will her thoughts restlessly dwell and re. main awake upon topics which, had her first inquiries been ration- ally and judiciously answered, would have made comparatively little impression. Habits of concealment are generated, and a pro- mising foundation is laid for future mischief. Keep the girl as ignorant as you please, you cannot prevent her growing up; and love is a matter which she does and must hear dis- cussed, and in which she is naturally interested. Still the system is pursued which seems invented to teach affectation and produce imprudent conduct. If she speak her thoughts to those who in- struct her, she is generally chilled by ridicule ; and finding that the natural expression of her sentiments is laughed at, she learns if she have any feeling, to conceal those sentiments from the people who sneer at them. But as the mind has naturally—particularly during youth—a restless craving for sympathy, and longing to utter what passes within it, she probably finds some one near her own age with whom to converse, and these two inexperienced girls build one another up in their crude and romantic ideas. Let it be remember- ed, too, that these conversations have all along the excitement of secrecy and concealment from their elders. Now, is all this right? Is such treatment correct in its princi-— ple, or desirable in its results? I shall dwell.a little on these two questions, and then suggest whether some better course be not prac- ticable. First. “Is it correct in its principle?” God has formed us in- telligent and responsible beings ; he has ‘‘ created us male and fe- OF FEMALE EDUCATION. 51 male,” that we may the better subserve the purposes of his provi- dence, and that our mutual happiness may be augmented. Such being the fact, it is manifestly his intention that we should find pleasure in each other’s society. No system can counteract this spontaneous feeling. One which ¢tries to substitute an affected. in- difference, cannot be in accordance with the will of our Creator. “* What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common,” may, (with- out violating the spirit of the imagination), be said to those who endeavour to extirpate as wrong, or to quash as reg ater ai the natural sympathies of the heart. Secondly. « Is it desirable in it’s results?” How many a sorrow- ing voice and heart could reply to this question in the negative! No force of education can render a girl callous to the studied atten- tions of a man, or harden her against susceptibility to attachment. Nor can instruction so far supply the place of experience as to fit her for-dispassionately considering what claims to her regard a man actually possesses. Further: constituted as society is, every young woman with even moderate attractions receives a certain share of attention ; and the instances are rare indeed, where some one does not try to win her affection. Here, then, is a case which surely _ merits caution and observation ; and a mother’s fostering care was scarcely more needed when her daughter was a helpless baby, than it is at this period. But the way in which most mothers act, de- prives the child of the advautages which Providence, by his wise arrangements, has placed within her reach. The girl, accustomed to have any expressions that relate to the affections received without apparent interest or sympathy by the parent, has learned to avoid the subject, and in nine cases out of ten the mother is the last con- fidante whom the daughter would choose. The natural result is, that imprudent attachments are formed, and a girl’s affection and promise are often engaged, before the parents suspect anything of the kind. They then give a reluctant consent, or enforce a peremptory’ refusal ; in either case the girl is the victim, and through years of ill-assorted married life, or of singleness resulting from disappoint- ment, she has to bewail the capital error in her education: ! The third consideration I proposed is, ‘‘ Whether some better course be not practicable ;” I confidently answer that it is. . Here and there ‘a more excellent way” is followed, and with the hap. piest results. The daughter habituated to make the mother her most confidential friend, receives the benefit of maternal council and experience ; and the mother, aware of what passes in her daughter’s mind, knows how to time her cautions, and how, silently but 52 REMARKS ON AN IMPORTANT BRANCH surely, to fence her child’s path from the dangers that “ most easily beset it.” But to accomplish this the habit of unfettered confidence must be formed from infancy, and never checked by such rebuffs as I have alluded to. Of course, judgment and discretion are needed here, as in every other branch of education, nor can any rules be given as applicable to every instance; for this is not a case for rules, but for principles. As a principle, I would lay down the vast importance of cherishing habits of unreserved confidence from the child to the parent. No mother, however, need expect this who will not be confidential in turn; for cold does not produce frost more surely than distrust produces reserve. Very great exer- cise of prudence is requisite here ; the judgment of each individual mother must determine the precise line of conduct suitable to her own case ; and unfortunately some mothers shrink from the trouble of this, and excuse themselves by saying that “ they let things take their natural course.” But surely a question involving the mental purity and domestic peace of a daughter deserves to receive some attention. . Another principle may be mentioned, namely, that when a mo- ther does converse with her daughter on any subject connected with the affections and with married life, she should carefully avoid levity and “foolish jesting, which is not convenient.” Let her speak as to a rational being, on a rational subject, and she may rest assured that her girl will not be half so liable to have her head turned by the attentions of men, or to lay herself out to attract their regards, as if the common plan had been pursued. And while I urge upon the mother not to laugh with the daughter, I would also say “ Do not laugh at her.” It is to be expected that a young and inexperienced creature will hold many opinions not borne out by facts, and that she will entertain hopes and expectations which real life will never fulfil. She must be warned of this, and her mind must be trained to meet disappointment. But yet how plea- sant and bright a flower is the unaffected romance of youth! To those who have lived to break the charm, how saddening is the thought that the being who now enters life so full of joyous antici- pation will herself inherit the lot of suffering which is peculiar to woman, over and above all that she shares with man! Whena girl expresses the opinions natural to her age respecting first love, unchanging constancy, and disinterested attachment, do not laugh at her, but calmly point out how little probability there is that actual life will realize her expectations, and that a great fund of comfort and enjoyment exists independently of them. There is, OF FEMALE EDUCATION. 53 however, no occasion to recur to these subjects continually ; to make any one idea unduly predominant. is to destroy that well-ad- justed proportion of mind which it ought to be the object of educa- tion to establish. Whether the hints I have given be practicable or not, it is quite undeniable that the defects to which I have alluded do exist, and produce bitterly painful results. In conclusion, I would urge upon all who have a share in forming the minds of girls, (and who has not a share, directly or indirectly?) that to them is committed a stewardship for which they will one day give account; and if they would ‘do it with joy, and not with grief,” they must conscien- tiously use every means in their power for the advantage of those over whom they have an influence. I shall rejoice if what I have said should draw to this interesting, but neglected subject the at- tention of any one better qualified than I am to suggest improve- ment, Tien. ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. BY LANGSTON PARKER, ESQ. IV.—ON THE IMAGINATION OF THE INSANE. Tue ideas called up by the Imagination during sleep, being so much more vivid than those of the waking state, sometimes affect the mind in a permanent manner, by persuading it that the imagi- nations thus elicited are realities, leading the individual to act upon the fancies of his dream, and to continue to regard its delusions as facts. These instances of insanity from dreams are extremely rare, and produced only by those of the most extraordinary character, acting upon a mind predisposed to wander, where the dream bears a strict resemblance to the prevailing train of thought, wish, or ap- prehension. Thus, a dream of the day of judgment has produced insanity, where superstitious dread was the prevailing disposition of the mind. Extatic dreams during the night often form the prelude to acts of maniacal devotion. It is also sometimes from enchanting 54 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL dreams, and a supposed apparition of the beloved object, that mad- ness from love breaks out with fury, after longer or shorter inter- vals of reason and tranquillity. The origin of the ideas which ul- timately lead the Imagination to put on the character of insanity, appears to be of the greatest importance to the elucidation of the causes of mental alienation generally, and it likewise will furnish the only certain data on which to. effect its cure. This is a point interesting, I should suppose, to all, and it was solely from an intimate acquaintance with it that Rasselas and his sister were ena- bled to effect the cure of the insane astronomer of Cairo. This simple tale teaches us more of the nature of insanity, of its causes, and mode of remedy, than half the elaborate and learnedly mysti- cal treatises that medico-metaphysicians have ever penned. Of all the powers of the human mind the Imagination appears to be the most subject to injury. The fantastic illusions and ideal transformations, which are by far the most frequent forms of men- tal derangement, are solely ascribable to lesions of this faculty. How pathetic and how true is Ophelia’s description of the unhinged mind— * That noble and most sovereign reason, Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh ; * Blasted with extasie.” Perfectly just is this comparison of the mind of the insane. It still possesses all its faculties, like the octave of bells its full complement of notes; but their concord is destroyed, their harmony lost: its workings hurt us by pain, instead of entrancing us by pleasure. It is not often that ambition, indulged and successful, destroys the equilibrium of the mind. It is generally a vice of great souls— a set purpose, pursued with patience, difficulty, and great mental effort through a long series of obstacles, which it removes gradually and laboriously from the tortuous and rugged pathway which it travels. The mind is thus prepared for the new condition in which it ultimately hopes to be placed, accommodates itself by anticipation to the circumstances of that condition, and grows familiar with all its relations and bearings. Even strong minds, have, however, been totally deranged by the unlooked for and sudden success of. great political enterprises: they travel a beaten road—all opposing force gives way before them—resistance becomes vain, and they ar- rive at the goal of their wishes so unexpectedly, that the mind can hardly persuade itself that such events are not rather the delusions AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 5d of a dream than the sober certainties of waking reality. Of this the history of Tommaso Anniello, better known as the fisherman of Naples, Masaniello, affords one of-the most striking examples c on the whole page of history.* That species of disordered intellect termed, by authors, mania mitis—roving or restless melancholy—affords one of the best sub- jects for the illustration of the fancy of the insane. Let us take a me- dical description of it, and see how closely the creatioris of the poets resemble the natural pictures from which they are copied. ‘ These people wake as others dream. Though they talk with you and seem to be very intent and busy, they are only thinking of a toy ; and still that toy runs in the mind, whatever it be—that fear, that suspicion, that agony, that vexation, that cross, that castle in the air, that fiction, that pleasant waking dream.”’t The kind and degree of this craziness will vary from the previous constitution of the mind, from its natural bias, and from the causes which produced the mental aberration. I shall notice three exam- ples of it: one of a French watch-maker, the second of Ophelia, and the third of Madge Wildfire—the first of these a real occurrence, the second and third fictitious, but strictly analogous to the descriptions of the malady given by authors, and faithful representations of nature. The case of the watch-maker is recorded by the celebrated Pinel, physician to the Bicétre, in Paris, during the revolution and the republic. This man was infatuated with the chimera of perpe- tual motion, and to effect this discovery he set to work with indefa- tigable ardour. From unremitting attention to the object of his enthusiasm, coinciding with the influence of revolutionary disturb- ances, his imagination was greatly heated, his sleep was interrupted, and at length a complete derangement took place. His case was marked by a most whimsical illusion of the Imagination : he fancied that he had lost his head upon the scaffold ; that it had been thrown promiscuously among the heads of many other victims; that the judges, having repented of their cruel sentence, had ordered these heads to be restored to their respective owners, and placed upon their respective shoulders ; but, that in consequence of an unhappy mistake, the gentlemen who had the management of that business had placed upon his shoulders the head of one of his unhappy com- panions. The idea of this whimsical change of his head occupied * For a full account of the rise, fall, aod. madness of Masaniello, see Miss Holford’s “ Italian Histories.” + The Study of Medicine, by John Mason Good, 56 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL his thoughts night and day, which determined his friends to send him to the Asylum. Nothing could exceed the extravagant flow- ings of his heated brain: he sung, he criel, or danced incessantly ; and as there appeared no propensity to commit acts of violence or disturbance, he was allowed to go about the hospital without con- troul, in order to expend, by evaporation, the effervescence of his spirits. ‘Look at these teeth!” he cried, ‘‘ mine were exceedingly handsome; these are rotten and decayed. My mouth was sound and healthy ; this is foul and diseased. What difference between this hair, and that of my own head!” The idea of perpetual motion frequently recurred to him in the midst of his wanderings ; and he chalked on all the doors or windows as he passed, the various designs by which his wonderous piece of mechanism was to be constructed. The method best calculated to cure so whimsical an illusion ap- peared to be that of encouraging his prosecution of it to satiety. His friends were accordingly requested to send him his tools, with materials to work upon, and other requisites, such as plates of cop- per, steel, and watch wheels. His zeal was now redoubled ; his whole attention was riveted upon his favourite pursuit ; he forgot his meals, and after about a months labour; which he sustained with a constancy that deserved a better success, our artist began to think that he had followed a false rout. He broke into a thousand fragments the piece of machinery which he had fabricated with so much toil, and thought, and labour, entered upon the construction of another upon a new plan, and laboured with equal pertinacity for another fortnight. The various parts being completed, he brought them together; he fancied that he saw a perfect harmony amongst them. The whole was now finally adjusted ;—his anxiety was indescribable—motion succeeded ; it continued for some time, and he supposed it capable of continuing for ever. He was elevated to the highest pitch of enjoyment and triumph, and ran Jike light- ning into the interior of the hospital, crying out, like another Ar- chimedes, “‘ At length I have solved this famous problem, which has puzzled so many men celebrated for their wisdom and talents !” Grievous to state, he was disconcerted in the midst of his triumph. The wheels stopped!—the “perpetual motion” ceased! His in- toxication of joy was succeeded by disappointment and confusion ; though, to avoid a humiliating and mortifying confession, he de- clared that he could easily remove the impediment; but, tired of that kind of employment, he was determined, for the future, to de- vote his attention solely to his business. There still remained another imaginary impression to be counteracted, that of the ex- AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 57 change of his head, which unceasingly occurred to him. A keen and unanswerable stroke of pleasantry seemed best adapted to cor- rect this fantastic whim. Another convalescent, of a gay and face. tious humour, instructed in the part he should play in this comedy, adroitly turned the conversation to the subject of the famous mira- _ tle of St. Denis, in which it will be recollected that the holy man, after decapitation, walked away with his head under his arm, which he kissed, and condoled with it for its misfortune. Our mechani- cian strongly maintained the possibility of the fact, and sought to confirm it by an appeal to his own case. The other set up a loud laugh, and replied, with a tone of the keenest ridicule, “ Madman as thou art, how could St. Denis kiss his own head? Was it with his heels?” This equally unexpected and unanswerable retort for- cibly struck the maniac. He retired confused amid the peals of laughter which were provoked at his expense, and never afterwards mentioned the exchange of his head.* This is a very instructive case, inasmuch as it illustrates, in the clearest point of view, the moral treatment of the insane. It shews us the kind of mental remedies which are likely tu be successful in the cure of disordered intellect. This disease was purely of the Imagination, and the causes which produced it did not lie very deep, neither were they such as, under proper management, were likely to produce any per- manent alienation of mind. An intense application to the more speculative parts of his trade, had fixed his Imagination upon the discovery of perpetual motion ; mingling with this, when his judg- ment was half dethroned, came the idea of. losing his own head, and getting a wrong one. And at atime when heads were falling in- discriminately around him, this second freak of the Imagination, acting as a kind of interlude or bye-play to the first, was one of the most natural that could be supposed. From the same reason that this person ran mad in attempting to discover perpetual motion, does the astronomer, of whose mind religious veneration forms a part, make the sun his god, and worship him as the creator of the world. From the same cause does the enthusiast spend whole nights in prayer, and the poet speak constantly in rhyme. Of the latter form of insanity I once saw a lady who never spoke in prose ; her rhyme was easy and natural, and the facility with which it was composed and uttered wonderful. The ideas which produced this man’s insanity were rather of a whimsical cast ; springing from a “ Ph. Pinel, Traité Medico-Philosophique sur P Alienation Mentale, &c.— Paris, 1809. VOL. V.-——NO. XVII. Ht 58 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL mind of no great power, over which none of the passions appear to have’exercised any marked or predominant sway. The Imagination of Ophelia was of a far more intellectual kind. ¥ The whole soul of the gentle Ophelia appears to have been absorbed in her passion for Hamlet, which was unable to bear up against the double misfortune of his declaration of “I lov’d you not,” and the ~ counterfeit insanity, to her real, which was assumed for the further- ance of his designs. Her dejection consequent upon this shews us, at once, the bent and tenor of her affections. “Oh! what a noble mind is here o’erthrown ! The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s eye, tongue, sword ; The expectancy and rose of the fair state, The glass of fashion, and the mould of form, * * * * * * T am of ladies most deject and wretched, That suck’d the honey of his music vows.” The professions of affection on the part of Hamlet had been fol- lowed by contumely and insult, and her mind could no longer retain its sanity when she witnessed the murder of her father by the very hand that was presented for her acceptance. Although the insanity on the part of Ophelia does not take place till after the murder of Polonius, and appears to have been more immediately caused by that event—still we find her wandering Imagination weaving all her misfortunes into one thread, and twining it round the predomi- nating passion of her loye for Hamlet-— “ He’s dead and gone, lady, he’s dead and gone, At his head a grass green turf, and at his heels a stone ;” * That form of insanity under which Ophelia laboured has been termed monomania, i. e., the hallucination is confined to one idea, or a small number of ideas. ‘This species of disordered intellect is in direct proportion as regards the frequency of its occurrence, with the development of the intellectual faculties, and the progress of civilization ; in which the play of these facul- ties becomes so much modified by the nature of the objects which surround them, and upon which they are exercised. No person can fancy. a North American savage a monomaniac from sentimental love, or a New Zealander rendered insane from disappointed ambition, or the success of an opposite party in politics. This disorder is essentially dependent upon the passions, which themselves are the result of the moral relations which connect man- kind, and by which they are bound in one grand community. It is the child of the affections, the creature of sentiment ; and he who wishes to become acquainted with its phenomena must make the heart of man his study, and gain an intimate acquaintance with those infinite varieties of human feeling which lie too deep for the eye of the vulgar and common-place observer to analyze. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 59 alluding to her father, doubtless, since Hamlet was yet living ; but in the next scene, the idea of her lover intrudes, and she is introduced strewing the tomb of old age with tokens that are cast only upon the grave of youth and beauty— “ Larded all with sweet flowers Which bewept to the grave did go With true-love showers.” And again, “ White the shroud as mountain snow,” white being the peculiar mourning-colour for the young. This feature of her diseased fancy—this wandering and mixture of ideas of opposite characters—this investment of one circumstance with attributes belonging to another, has never been more truly described —never more beautifully illustrated—than in the character of Ophelia. ' In all cases of mental alienation from disappointed affection, or from any other cause in which love is the predominant feeling, pri- or to the hallucination, the object of this passion mixes itself with all the wanderings of the maniac, and all the vigour of a morbid imagination is taxed to invest it with every ideal beauty. He is the god of their dreams and the idol of their waking hours; the maniac chants songs of his virtues, weaves garlands for his brows, decks the board for his return—at one moment arraying herself in bridal garments for the wedding, and the next clad in weeds, and following him in fancy to the grave. This fact, which is recognized by all conversant with the insane, did not escape the observation of Shakspeare. The thoughts of Ophelia, though distracted and wandering, constantly return to one point—that of her passion for Hamlet. After mourning the loss of her father, and gathering the appropriate emblems of sorrow to strew his. beir, her ideas suddenly revert to the master-thought of her distraction, and she breaks forth into chants of affection for her lover. Thus :— “T would give you some violets; but they withered all when my father died. ‘They say he made a good end. ~*~ “For bonny sweet Robin is all my joy.” The remark of Laertes might be a medical comment upon her State: “ Thought, and affliction, passion, hell itself, She turns to favour and to prettiness.” 60 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL The character of Madge Wildfire, so admitably drawn by Sir W. Scott, is scarcely inferior to that of Ophelia in the boldness of its outline and truth of its colouring. The previous bias of the mind was different, the station in life, the refinement of education, the delicacy of sentiment, were all on the side of Ophelia; though we find, as is commonly the case with the insane, that this delicacy is in a measure removed, and Ophelia the distraught speaks boldly of that passion which Ophelia the sane would hardly have dared to unmask to the moon. The history of Madge Wildfire, previous to her derangement, is well known to all who have read—and who has not read P—that chef d’ ceuvre of the wizard of the north, the Heart of Mid Lothian. Illicit love and its consequences, in a character of low extraction, whom beauty raised above her station, were the predisposing causes of her malady. Her personal charms appear to have attracted much attention, and a considerable degree of vanity and self-love formed a prominent feature in her character. This ruling passion of her mind runs through the whole of her history when insane, and stamps all its workings with a peculiar feature. Facts teach us that persons in whom vanity or amour-propre form a predominating part of the disposition, if afflicted with insanity, from whatever cause it may arise, the ideas of health are renewed in a modified and exalted form in the state of disease ; and as the tenor of the mind when awake, determines, in a great measure, the nature of our dreams—so does the stamp of the sane intellect throw the hue of its colouring over the Imaginations of the insane.* The vain are apt, in this condition, to imagine themselves queens and princesses, and are more greedy of admiration, than ambitious of power. This turn of the insane mind is peculiar to females. It is well exemplified in some of Madge’s ditties :— * This is not only true as it relates to individuals, but as it regards the monomaniacs of a whole nation taken collectively. An author of great me- rit has asserted that the history of a country may be in some measure traced by the Imagination of its insane inhabitants. During the age of chivalry, the grand feature of the monomaniac was sentimental affection: when Eu- rope was agitated with the Reformation, and the truths promulgated by the dauntless Luther shook the foundations of Catholicism to the very centre, religious enthusiasm became the prevailing idea in the Imagination of the insane. For this reason monomania has generally the national character; haughty and superstitious in the Spaniard—soft and pleasing in the Italian ; gay among the French—gloomy and reserved in the inhabitants of Britain. Of course, in addition to this must be taken into consideration the peculiarity of individual minds, their prevailing disposition, and the causes, the griefs, the losses, or the provocation which were the exciting cause of the disease. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 61 “[’m Madge of the country, I’m Madge of the town, I’m Madge of the lad I am blithest to own ; The lady of Beaver in diamonds may shine, But has not a heart half so happy as mine. “ I’m queen of the wake, and I’m lady of May, And I lead the blithe ring round the May-pole to day ; The wild-fire that dances so fair and so free, Was never so bright or so bonnie as me.” Bred at a distance from the court, and in an obscure village, the Imagination of Madge wonderfully adapts itself to the circumstan- ces of her previous life. Had she been accustomed to society of a higher order, she would probably have fancied herself a royal queen, but the fancy having no materials of this kind to work upon, she exalts herself to that dignity which, in rural sport, is generally awarded to the most beautiful. The tenor of all this maniac’s his- tory strictly accords with the illustration I have given of it; but _ her death-bed scene is one of the most feeling that the pen of the narrator or historian ever sketched. Jn the most violent and per- fect maniacs, alarming disease very commonly partially or completely restores the mental faculties; the body acts by way of revulsion upon the mind, and the disorder appears to be removed from one by the action of disease in another. Most commonly this return of consciousness is rather an unsteady twinkling than a fixed and bril- liant light. The mind seizes ideas which it fancies are not new ; looks upon objects in a truer light. The causes of its observation become apparent ; and however gay the paroxysms of the disorder _ may have been, there is frequently a tinge of profound melancholy attends these periods of mental health, especially where the occasion of its overthrow has been crime, or great misfortune. When these periods immediately precede dissolution, as they frequently do, there is always an instructive “persuasion” of its approach. The maniac is aware that his troubles are past, that his toils are at an end, that his grief and his gaiety, the troubles of his spirit, and the wander- ings of his Imagination, will all sleep the sleep that knows no wak- ing.* All the wanderings of Madge’s partially restored mind * «Tt is rare,” says Foville, “ that the insane die in a state of mental aliena- tion; they generally fall victims to some bodily disorder, and the mind reco- vers, in some measure, its sanity before dissolution. Even where the most complete fatuity has been produced by long continued mental derangement, an unsteady glimmering of reason occasionally returns. The intellect ap- pears to approach once more the throne of reason, to linger about the scenes in which she once delighted, and to recal for once more, and but for a mo- ment, ideas which she once possessed, and which she is about to part with for ever.” How true is our author’s character to nature ! 62 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL upon her sick bed, centre in her approaching death, and the whole of the portions of old ballads collected in her roving and desultory life bear upon this point. “ Our work is over, over now ;— The goodman wipes his weary brow, The last long wain winds slow away, And we are free to sport and play; The night comes on, when sets the sun, And labour ends when day is done; When autumn’s gone and winter’s come We hold our jolly harvest home.” Again, in a strain of a different character— “When the fight of grace is fought, When the marriage vest is wrought, When faith hath chased cold doubt away, And hope but sickens at delay, When charity, imprisoned here, Longs for a more expanded sphere ; Doff thy robes of sin and clay, Christian, rise ! and come away.” The next snatches are extremely pathetic, and indicate a greater degree of consciousness than was exhibited by the former. Memory assumes more power, and the poor maniae looks back with sorrow and shame at the crimes and misfortunes of her past life, and her once happy home—contrasts it with her present situation as an out- east on the bed of charity; and prophecies that an evil and sudden termination of existence must attend the author of all her miseries : “ Cold is my bed, Lord Archibald, And sad my sleep of sorrow ; But thine shall be as sad and cold, My false true love, to-morrow. And weep ye not my maiden’s free, Tho’ death your mistress. borrow ; For he for whom I die to-day Shall die for me to-morrow.” Her last words relate to her burial, which a strange mixture of. ideas confuse with a wedding: * ¢'Tell me, thou bonnie bird, When shall I marry me;’ When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.’ AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 63 ‘Who makes the bridal bed ? Birdie, say truly ;° ‘The grey-headed sexton, That delves the grave truly. ‘The glow-worm o’er gravestone, Shall light there steady ; The owl, from the steeple, sing ‘ Welcome, proud lady ! ” Such are the examples I have chosen to illustrate the Imagina- tions of that form of mental derangement termed mania mitis, ame- nomania, or gay melancholy. The next species of morbid imaginativn constituting insanity which I shall notice is that commonly termed tristimania, tedium vite, or sad melancholy. It is not necessary for me here to notice the propriety or impropriety of these terms, or to what particular form of mental derangement they should or should not be applied. It is sufficient to state that they here exclusively refer to that form of disease in which the ideas are clothed in a shade of the deepest gloom ; reasoning after a fashion, it is true, upon the nature and moral aspect of events, but shadowing them all with the mists of a distempered fancy. ‘These people look always on the dark side of things. ‘To them the world has uo sunshine, no pleasure; their mind is a crucible of peculiar construction, that extracts nothing but misery and bitterness from whatever materials it may analyze. All is of *‘ Blackest midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn ;— Mid’st horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy.” This species of insanity is dependent alogether upon the natural constitution of the mind. In many instances it is merely a morbid exaltation of the usual mental phenomena. The sane and the in- sane mind are constituted of the same materials, and after the same type ; and it is a general exaltation of its functions, or a derange- ment in the mode or reciprocity of their actions, which produces the insane state. I shall illustrate the nature of this affection from the character of Hamlet, and I have many reasons for doing so. It is the completest history of melancholy madness and the state of mind which precedes it that has ever been given. ‘Its first symptoms, and their progression to, and ultimate termination in, confirmed insanity, are illustrated with singular exactness ; and it is a remark- 64 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL : f able coincidence that every predisposing and exciting cause by which the author could denote an intention of making his hero subject to paroxysms of insanity, has been clearly developed in the course of the five acts. The stages of the disease are distinctly marked from the first scene of Hamlet’s appearance, when he expresses a disrelish of life, until the violent explosion of his madness at the grave of Ophelia.”* Hamlet’s mind appears, from what we can collect of his previous history, to have been one of great power and depth. Well versed in the literature and philosophy of his day, naturally disposed to retirement, he possessed all the character of Milton’s Il Penseroso. The arched walk of twilight groves and shadows brown—the studi- ous cloister pale—were the places in which he delighted, and not the pageantry of royalty or the vain delight of giddy pleasure. This natural bias has been recognised on all hands as the precursor of melancholy madness. Hippocrates tells us that the chief reasons which led the citizens of Abdera to suspect Democritus of insanity was, that he forsook the city, and lived in groves and hollow trees, upon a green bank by a brook side, or by a confluence of waters, day and night. The first scene in which Hamlet is introduced, shews us the state of his mind and the tedium vite under which he laboured ; though the tendency to suicide, which it would not have been in an advanc- ed stage of his disease, is controlled by religious fear: * “Oh! that this too, too solid flesh would melt, Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix’d His canon ’gainst self-slaughter ! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world ! Fie on’t ! O fie! ’tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.” The truth of this description of the mental state of approaching melancholia, admits of corroboration from numerous and well-au- thenticated facts.. Erasmus Darwin tells us of a gentleman who said to him “a ride out in the morning, and a warm parlour and pack of cards in the afternoon, are all that life affords.” In a few months afterwards he destroyed himself.t * Illustrations of Mania, Melancholia, Craziness, and Demonomania, as dis- played in the characters of Lear, Ophelia, and Edgar, by George Farren. + Darwin’s Zoonomia. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 65 The insufficiency of natural beauties, of the harmony of the universe, of the ordinary pursuits of life to produce mental ease, are next exemplified in the address of Hamlet to Rosencrantz and ‘Guildenstern ; and it is a curious fact that most writers on this disease have taken Shakspeare’s description of it, finding it so true to nature, and aware that no composition of their own could possibly convey the same ideas so well. “I have of late, wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth, foregone all custom of exercise, and indeed, it goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame, the earth, seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most ex- cellent canopy, the air, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this ma- jestical roof, fretted with golden fire—why, it appears no other thing to me, than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! in form and motion, how express and admirable! in action, how like an angel! in apprehension, how like a god! the beauty of the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me!” The very pursuits of minds: thus disposed all tend toward the same subject ; their studies, their favourite authors, have all a mis- anthropic tinge. Thus we find Hamlet introduced reading that passage in the tenth satire of Juvenal, beginning “ Da spatium vite, multos da Jupiter annos,” 3 in which old age is dispraised, and the natural defects attendant upon advanced life set forth in most dishonest satire. Hamlet’s madness, like that of melancholy generally, is not one continued stream of mental aberration, not one long uninterrupted chain of monotonous woe, but a moody, wayward affection, pregnant with the most poignant wit, shadowed with the deepest gloom, or occa- sionally, but rarely, breaking forth into paroxysms bordering upon the violence of mania. His accumulated misfortunes—the murder of his father—the marriage of his mother—the derangement of Ophelia—and the loss of his kingdom—render that alienation of mind at length real which was only, in the first instance, assumed asa mask. We cannot fail to be struck with the peculiar perti- nence and tartness of some of the replies of Hamlet, especially in his conversations with Rosencrantz and Polonius ; and this may be supposed to he discordant with the state of mental disease under which he labours. It may appear strange to those who have not studied the subject, that persons possessed of a defective judgment should at any time be VOL. V.—NO. XVII. I. 66 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL | of quick and lively apprehension, and thus be witty. without being wise. But the faculty of wit is not dependent so much upon the judgment as upon the imagination. ‘ And hence,” says Mr. Locke, ‘some reason may be perhaps given for that common observation that men who have a great deal of wit have not always. the clearest judgment or the deepest reason. For wit lying most in the assem- blage of ideas, and putting those together with quickness and va riety, wherein can be found any resemblance or congruity, thereby to make up pleasant pictures and agreeable visions in the fancy. Judgment, on the contrary, lies quite on the other side, in separat- ing carefully one from the other ideas, wherein can be found the least difference, thereby to avoid being misled by similitude, and by affinity to take one thing for another. And hence we may easily account for that gaiety, and those ebullitions of a vivid fancy, which so often assume the character of wit in persons whose minds are deranged.” How wonderfully has this property cf the Imagi- nation of the insane been analyzed by Shakspeare : “ How pregnant sometimes his replies are ! A happiness that often madness hits on, Which sanity and reason could not be So prosperously delivered of” How powerful a faculty of the human mind is the Imagination ! and how necessary is it for persons in whom it is apt to reign para- mount to the judgment, to acquire, by all artificial means, some control over it, which nature has not giventhem. In the cases which we have been considering, those of Hamlet and the French watch-maker, an encouragement of its undue prevalence was the principal cause of their insanity ; and though, with the exception of some rare instances, the Imagination itself might not actually become so tyrannical as to render the individual insane without the application of some powerful moral affection, still this unequal balance between it and the judgment render the mind less capable of resisting any shock which, in the varied tenor of human occur- rences, it is so likely to receive. When thus indulged, the mind does not view the objects around it in their proper light and natural relation ; it takes part of their properties only, and forms them into combinations which are incongruous and unnatural. Acting upon data thus constituted, the conclusions which it draws cannot possi- bly be sound, since the premises upon which it acts are either decked in borrowed beauty or distorted by ideal deformity. The mind thus becomes like a bad mirror, which throws shades upon beauty, AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 67 and, by its unequal reflection of the different parts of an object, give to it a false and unreal aspect. The various kinds of insanity springing from superstition and fanaticism are all the result of this diseased condition of the Imagination. A most curious instance il- lustrative of this is recorded, in the German Psycological Magazine, of a gendarme, of Berlin, who, being disquieted in his mind, sought alleviation in the perusal of religious books. In reading ‘The Bible, he was struck with the book of Daniel, and so much pleased with it that it became his favourite study ; and from this time the idea of miracles so strangely possessed his imagination, that he began to believe he could perform them himself. ‘ He was persuaded, more especially, that if he were to plant an apple tree with a view of its becoming a cherry tree, such was his power, that it would bear cherries. He was discharged from the king’s service, and. sent to the workhouse, where he conducted himself calmly, orderly, and industriously for two years, never doing any thing. that betrayed insanity. He answered every question cor- rectly, except when the subject concerned miracles, in regard to which he maintained his old notions ; adding, however, at the same time, that if he found on trial, after he was at home, that the event did not correspond with his expectation, he would readily relin- quish the thought, and believe he had been mistaken. He confessed that he had already removed one error from his mind in this way, for there was an old woman whom he had, at one time, considered to be a witch, but whom he afterwards discovered to be no such. thing.” * _,* The same species of morbid Imagination constituting the insane state, sometimes extends from one individual to many, to the whole inhabitants of the same family, community, town, or nation; as the history of some par- ticular epidemics of this kind well illustrates. Of such character was the dancing mania of the 16th century, (a complete notice of which has lately been given us by Dr. Babington, from the German of Hecker), in which both the disease and its cure, which was effected by music, were solely to be traced to the workings of a diseased fancy. Affections of this kind have been attributed, by Foville and others, to the simultaneous action of moral im- pressions of the same character upon a number of individuals at once, We cannot, however, conceive of moral impressions of a similar character producing the same effects upon the inhabitants of a whole nation, or spreading even further than this; for the dancing mania extended over the whole of central Europe. I am led rather to attribute it to the faculty of imitation, or instinct of imitation, as it has been termed; the mental impression having primitively been made upon the few, or upon one, and afterwards spreading from the exercise of this peculiar faculty to many. The Imagination is commonly led captive through the credulity 68 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL I come now to speak, shortly, of those forms of mental disturb» ance in which the Imagination is called forth in its most energetic forms; where, the judgment exercising no part of the mental fa- culty, the mind is given up to the vacillating and uncertain govern- ment of the former. I need not repeat what has been recognised by the only two ju- dicious writers on insanity with whom I am acquainted, Pinel and Esquirol, that the peculiar form of alienation is regulated altogether by the previous constitution of the mind, and that this scarcely ever takes place without a powerful predisposition. This predisposition to mania is different from that which formed the precursory stage of craziness and melancholy. The individual is generally character- ized—not by a powerful judgment, a brilliant and lively wit, or profound thought—-but, by great energy of purpose, sudden and quick in his determinations, violent in his affections, and implacable in his hatred, embracing the most exaggerated schemes with an en- thusiasm which in itself is hardly indicative of perfect sanity. His imagination is ardent, the visions which it produces full of life and fire. His is the royal road to fame ; the whole energy of his intel- lect is bent on the accomplishment of his designs. Obstacles disap- pear, as it were by magic, from before him ; he is impetuous, ungo- vernable, and impatient of controul. The fancies of his dreams are similar to the determinations of his waking hours: he dreams not of the calm sea, of the peaceful home, but of the tempest, the hur- ricane, and the tornado—not of the arts of peace, but of the din of war. So active is the imagination of these persons, that somnam- bulism is a frequent occurrence with them: the hurry of their mind will not allow them time for needful repose. The imagination of the.maniac is a perfect chaos, having no direction, no harmony, no or from the narration of others, and not from actual impression first made upon the mind so influenced. Many curious examples in illustration and support of this remark, are to be found in Walker’s Lives, in Sir W. Scott’s Letters on Demonology, and elsewhere. The instinct or faculty of imitation is widely extended in nature, possessed by all animals and man, and in great- er power by the latter as he is less civilized or less intellectual, approaching more to the state of the brute or the savage. Hence we find diseases in which the faculty of imitation is concerned, almost peculiar to the ages of ignorance and superstition. Hence all the epidemic diseases springing from a distempered fancy occurred in the ages and countries where fanaticism prevailed, when the laws regulating the phenomena of natural occurrences both in physics and physiology were utterly unknown, and where the. pro- mulgator or advocate of truth was branded as an atheist for his unbelief in the errors which surrounded him, and happy if his talents or his zeal did not hurry him to the cells of the Inquisition, to the scaffold, or the rack. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 69 predominant feeling or idea, no leading affection, no cherished sor- row: all is desultory, wandering, and terrific. A General, rendered insane, threatened the sun-beams which offended him with the ven- geance of his whole army. The slightest bodily pain, the minutest physical evil, contradiction, or mistaken moral perception, excite a train of imaginary feelings of the most violent character. I shall illustrate the imaginations of the maniac from the Lear of Shak- speare, and the Orestes of Euripides. The first scene in which Lear is introduced dividing the kingdom with his daughters, per- fectly illustrates that impetuosity of character, that morbid feeling,’ which is not satisfied without the most hyperbolical and exaggerated expressions of attachment. The plain and modest declaration of filial affection on the part of Cordelia, does not satisfy Lear; but he breaks forth into a declamation of the most violent character, and for a word mis-spoke or wrongly taken, casts the child of his love portionless upon the world : “ Let it be so.—Thy truth then be thy dower: For, by the sacred radiance of the sun ; The mysteries of Hecate, and the night ; By ali the operations of the orbs, From whom we do exist, and cease to be; Here I disclaim all my paternal care, Propinguity and property of blood, And as a stranger to my heart and me Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, Or he that makes his generation messes ' ‘To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom Be as well neighbour’d, pitied, and reliev’d, As thou, my sometime daughter.” Speeches of this character, shewing the predisposition to mania in Lear, might be multiplied to almost any extent from the earlier scenes of this magnificent play, especially his curse of Goneril, for refusing to entertain his full complement of knights.* On Lear’s * These dreadful explosions of rage would at once indicate the predispo- sition to mania, even if they were elicited by some provocation proportionate to their violence; but when we see them called forth from trifling causes, we cannot fail at once to be struck with a peculiar disposition of mind ap- proaching to ungovernable fury : as thus— “ You nimble lightnings, dart your blinding flames Into her scornful eyes! Infect her beauty, ° You fen-suck’d fogs, drawn by the powerful sun, To fall and blast her pride! - 70 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL first coming to the knowledge of the ingratitude of Regan, Shak- speare again displays his intimate knowledge, not only of the work- ings of the human passions, but of those bodily affections with which they are occasionally attended. ‘Thus: _ “QO! how this mother swells up tow’rd my heart ! Hysterica passio ! down, thou climbing sorrow ! Thy element ’s below !” I bring forward a case to illustrate the truth of this description of the poet’s:—A person was subject to paroxysms of insanity, of which the first symptoms were heat in the region of the stomach, which was felt to ascend progressively to the chest, neck, and face. To this succeeded a flushed countenance ; and no sooner was the head invaded, than he was seized with an uncontrollable propensi- ty to commit deeds of violence and bloodshed. The mind of the person predisposed to mania, is seldom complete- ly disorganized without the occurrence of some strong mental im- pression addressed immediately to itself—as inordinate grief for the loss of friends or property, disappointed ambition, remorse, woe, soul-stifling fear,” or “ heart-sickening shame.” The approach of the attack is sensible to many, and is finely described by Lear : “ My wits begin to turn.— Come on, my boy. How dost, boy ? art cold ? I’m cold myself. Where is the straw, my fellow ? The art of our necessities is strange That can make vile things precious. Come, your hovel. Poor fool and knave, I’ve one string in my heart That’s sorrow yet for thee.” The maniac lives an isolated. being in the moral and _ physical world which surrounds him. The ideas and images which his ima- - gination forms, are without order or connection, continually repro- duced by new impressions, and at once fading from the memory ; and like the impression of a seal upon the wave, Jeaving no trace behind them. He is incapable of distinguishing the properties or nature of things; but, carried away by ideas which are produced from memory, he confounds time and place, fancies himself in dis- tant countries, and takes the greatest strangers for his most intimate friends: he creates the most absurd pictures, holds the most ridicu- lous conversations, and unites in one grand monument of folly, the sublime, the absurd, the monstrous, the horrible, and the pathetic. The equilibrium between actual and present perception, and the ideas which memory furnishes, is destroyed ; and the activity of the AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 71 Imagination is so great, that it presents to him in their pristine and original colours scenes which have been long past. Many of these points are illustrated by. the conversations of Lear, during his paroxysms of mania. His discourses with Mad Tom during the tempest— first let me talk with this philosopher. What is the cause of thunder ?”—and again,—‘‘ Id speak a word with this most learned Theban.” Perhaps the master-stroke in this part of the play is the fancied trial of Regan and Goneril for their ingratitude, and his investment of his vagabond companions and the disguised Kent with the appurtenances belonging to the adminis. trators of justice. Thus Lear: “Tt shall be done, I will arraign them straight :— Come, sit thou here, most learned justicer ; Thou, sapient Sir, sit here. Now, you she foxes !” Again— “T’ll see their trial first :—Bring in the evidence.— Thou robed man of justice, take thy place ; And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity, Bench by his side :—You are of the commission, Sit you too.” “ Arraign her first; ’tis Goneril. I here take my oath, before this ho- nourable assembly, she kicked the poor king her father.” “ And here’s another, whose warp’d looks proclaim What store her heart is made of.—Stop her there ! Arms, arms, sword, fire !_—Corruption in the place ! False justicer, why hast thou let her ’scape ?” This utter chaos of the Imagination is highly descriptive of the mental imagery of the maniac; so wild, so wandering, occasionally so absurd, and again so natural and pathetic as in this speech: “ Let them anatomize Regan, and see what breeds about her heart. Is there any cause in nature that makes these hard hearts.” The maniac’s imagination surrounds him with angels and demons: he holds conversations with them, promises them obedience, flies from their fancied denunciations and horrible forms, and conducts himself as though his chamber or his cell were actually peopled by the beings that exist merely in his imagination. An unfortunate being, under this variety of mental derangement, fancied that he saw devils constantly about him; and one day rushed upon a party of visitors as upon a legion of demons. Another, during the day, was generally tranquil, but, at night, fancied himself surrounded by ghosts and phantoms. At different times he had imaginary confer- 72 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL ences with good and bad angels, and, according to the respective in- fluences of these delusions, he was mild or furious—inclined to acts of beneficence, or roused to deeds of ferocity. This feature of the imagination of the maniac has not escaped the penetration of some of the Greek poets, who were extremely partial to illustrations of madness, and fond of peopling the diseased minds of the guilty ma- niacs, and pursuing their footsteps with the furies. The finest example of this, perhaps, in the whole range of Greek literature, is that wonderful scene in the Orestes of Euripides, where the mad- ness of Orestes for the murder of his mother, Clytemnestra, is re- presented : “Ah! mother, do not set thy furies on me; See how their fiery eyeballs glare in blood ! And wreathing snakes hiss in their horrid hair ! There, there they stand ready to leap upon me. Oh! Phoebus, they will kill me; these dire forms, These gorgon-visag’d ministers of hell ! Off! let. me go !—I know thee, who thou art, One of the furies, and thou grapplest with me To whirl me into Tartarus.—Avaunt !” 1 am, perhaps, a little anticipating the subject of my last lecture, by mentioning the hallucinations produced by the Imagination ; but they are so intimately connected with the fancies of the insane, that they will hardly be considered out of place. I have endeavoured, in my former papers, to trace the general phenomena of the Imagination ; but their limits would not permit me to bring forward that vast body of facts, as yet scattered through the whole domain of literature, which completely illustrate its power. Our mental health altogether depends on the due regula- tion of the Imagination. Most men, from natural tendency, from peculiar turn of mind, at first determined by chance and confirmed by education, are apt to take up some leading idea, and to foster it to the prejudice of their judyment, When this is the child of pas. sion, the case becomes of a more serious character, since our passions, rather than our literary or scientific pursuits, enchain the subordi- nate faculties of the mind, making the whole of these faculties sub- servient to one governing and absorbing power. Ambition, desire of fame, fear, love, and anger, are those from which we have, per- haps, most to fear. It is, in many instances, the unlimited indul- gence of one of these, which lays the foundation for that predisposi- tion to insanity, without which it seldom occurs. The Imagination itself, when continually bent towards one point, and limited to one ’ AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 73 set of ideas, whether of a pleasing or gloomy character, may become permanently exalted and produce a partial alienation of mind, which the lifting of a finger or the shaking of a straw may precipitate into an abyss of incurable melancholy or mania. I have endeavoured in this paper—and it has been an undertaking of considerable diffi- culty—to trace these exalted states of the Imagination, which pre- dispose to the different turns of mental aberration. The limits of a single paper, of course, would not permit me to pursue them to a great extent: I have given the outline, and leave others to complete the picture. The track which I have chosen has been nearly an unbeaten one ; the road has been clogged with rubbish, overgrown with weeds, and some little labour has been required to form a new road, which at present is extremely rugged. Uniform study, or unremitting manual or mental application to one subject—especially if this be pursued with the ardour common to many minds—not unfrequently wears a track in the brain, down which the Imagina- tion rushes with destructive violence. The great object in the regulation of mental sanity, is to divert this single stream into many smaller channels, which, by their uniform and gentle motion, will visit and strengthen all the mental powers, instead of concentrating their whole force in one, which, from the violence and impetuosity of its career, rests not till it has included all in one general wreck. ** At Saragossa, in Spain, there is an asylum for the insane of all countries. The patients are divided, early in the morning, into parties, some of which perform the menial offices of the house ; others repair to shops belonging to their respective trades: the ma- jority are distributed, under the superintendence of their guards, through a large inclosure, where they are occupied in the works belonging to gardening and agriculture. Uniform experience is said to prove the efficacy of these labours in reinstating reason in its seat. It is added, that the nobles who live in the same asylum, but in a state of idleness suitable to their rank, retain their lunacy and their privilege together ; whilst their inferiors are restored to themselves and to society.”* This fact is so striking, explains so thoroughly the moral treatment of insanity, and illustrates so clearly what ought to be the plan adopted in all systems of education, that I make the statement without comment—since no argument can add to its weight, and no sophistry detract from its utility. * Beddoe’s Hygeia. VOL. V.—NO, XVII. K 74 HEWITSON’S “ BRITISH QOLOGY.” Or the numerous contributions to ornithology with which the press teems, there are few illustrated works of greater interest. to the naturalist than the admirable series of representations of British eggs now in progress of publication by Mr. Hewitson. ‘Two vo- lumes have been completed, in which the eggs of one hundred and forty-two species, and in all two hundred and twenty-two speci- mens, have been figured, for the most part, with the utmost accu- racy ; so that the possessor of these volumes may be said. to enjoy the advantages of a valuable cabinet, such as few could ever hope to obtain, and none without a considerable sacrifice of time and money. There are few naturalists but can well appreciate the usefulness of a work of this description, were it only for the impor- tant assistance afforded in grouping birds according to their true affinities, which, in general, are beautifully indicated in their eggs. Mr. Hewitson’s work furnishes likewise a fund of curious information relative to the nidification and habits of birds dur- ing the breeding season. We only regret that, in so many instan- ces, a whole plate has been devoted to a single egg, while the great variations of appearance incident to those of many species are by no means illustrated to the extent we think desirable. In proceeding to give a critical analysis on the whole series, it is necessary to pre- mise that the work originally appeared in periodic numbers, which are still continued, the only method in which an undertaking of this sort could be successfully prosecuted; but as the volumes before us are bound up according to Selby’s arrangement— which is so far advantageous as it brings the different mem- bers of a genus together—it will be more convenient to notice them in this order than in the irregular manner in which they were ne- cessarily published. Our first volume, then, opens with a beautiful figure of the egg of the Golden Eagle, Aquila chrysea (Falco chrystetos, of Linneus). This is accompanied with a brief description of its nidification, making the bird out, however, a little too rare, if we may judge from Mr. Selby’s account of the birds of Sutherlandshire.* ‘ In the moun. tainous districts,” says Mr. Selby, “this species is still tolerably abundant, although every device is put in practice to capture or de- stroy them by the appointed fox-hunters and shepherds, the premi- * Vide Jameson’s Philosophical Journals for January and April last. 1 ape ee HEWITSON’S “ BRITISH OOLOGY.” 75 ums paid for the adult birds, as well as for the eggs and young, being liberal. They attack and often prove very destructive to the young Jambs, particularly when their eyry is not far distant from the lambing district of a farm. They are sometimes taken in traps, but more frequently shot, after patient and sometimes long conti- nued watching. They breed in the highest and most inaccessible precipices, and it is rarely that the young or eggs can be got at, even by the dangerous experiment of suspending a person by a rope from the summit of the cliff in which the eyry is placed. Several hair-breadth escapes, as well as fatal accidents, were narrated to us by individuals who had been engaged in these undertakings.”* We * To those who have not read Mr. Selby’s paper on the mammifers and birds of Sutherlandshire, the following extract will be replete with interest. “The mountainous and rocky character of the greater part of the county, abounding as it does in cliffs of vast perpendicular height, renders it a dis- trict peculiarly favourable to the large raptorial birds, such as the Golden and Cinereous Eagles, Peregrine Falcon, &c.; and accordingly we find these powerful species still pretty numerous, though every device is resorted to for their destruction, on account ofthe havoc they commit upon the flocks. The same may be said of the ox, the Marten, and the wild Cat, which find pro-, tection in the numerous fastnesses of the rocks, and in the caves which abound in the limestone districts. The following list, copied from a docu- ment furnished by Mr. Baigrie, of the Foxes, Martens, Cats, Eagles, Ra- vens, &c., destroyed in the county within the last three years, will afford some idea of their numerous distribution ; and the amount of premiums paid, the liberal inducement held out for their destruction. “ List of vermin destroyed, and premiums paid for the same, on the Duchess- Countess of Sutherland’s estates in the county of Sutherland, from March, 1831, to March, 1834. the: kgs 1. Old ditch, Foxes, G) 4280... oc snsitor Yorkshire. In Foolscap 8vo., price 2s. cloth, ‘ THE BOTANIST’S MANUAL ; comprising a complete List. of the Birrisn SeaTIML 9 ' Frowrrine Puants and Ferns, divided into the Linnean Classes and / cipally for the Out-door Convenience of Botanical Students and Amateurs, _ asa Book of Entry for the discovery of Plants or Habitats ; and also a con- venient Pocket Companion for persons engaged in collecting materials for ~~ Locan Froras.. | | NEW BOTANICAL AND FLORAL MAGAZINE. : On the first of October, 1836, will be published, Under the patronage of-the Right Hon. the EARL of DARTMOUTH, (President of ; the Birmingham Botanical and Horticultural Society), the Right Hon. the EARL of MOUNTNORRIS, anp oTHER DISTINGUISHED PaTRoNs, | Ks . No. II. or tHE BIRMINGHAM BOTANIC GARDEN; On, MIDLAND FLORAL MAGAZINE, Containing accurate Delineations, with Botanical and popular Descriptions of Plants cultivated in the Stove, the Green-house, or the open Garden, and remarkable either for their beauty, their rarity, or the singularity of their structure. Conducted by G. B. KNOWLES, Esa., M.R.C.S., F.L.S., &c. (Corresponding Member of the Medico-Botanical Society, and Professor of Botany in the Birmingham Royal School of Medicine) and FREDERIC WESTCOTT, Esq. Honorary Secre- taries of the Birmingham Botanical and Horticultural Society. Each Number will contain four highly finished and carefully coloured Plates, the drawings for which will invariably be taken from nature expressly for this work, by artists of ac- knowledged talent. : The generic and specific characters are necessarily given in Latin, as the acknowledged language of science in every part of the civilized world; these, however, are followed by literal translations, for the accommodation of those who may be unacquainted with that puguage. A popular and more detailed description of each plant is also added, accompa- nied at the same time by remarks on its mode of culture, its native place of growth, the period of its introduction, and its medicinal or other properties, The Work will be continued monthly, price 2s. 6d. per Number. London: Longman, Rees, Orme, and Co., Whittaker and Co., and John M. Knott; © J. K. Johnstone and Co., Dublin; W. Whyte and Co., Edinburgh ; John Smith and Son, Glasgow. At Birmingham, John M. Knott, 95, High-street ; and at the Botanical Gar- dens, Edgbaston. ; Published by JOHN aa ARTHUR ARCH, Cornhill, London. ; I a FUCI, or COLOURED FIGURES, with Descriptions in English and Latin, — of the Plants referred by Botanists to the GENUS FUCUS; containing — 258 accurate Representations of Marine Plants, British and Foreign. By — DAWSON TURNER, Esq., A.M., F.R.A., and L.S. In 4 vols. 4to. price | reduced to 14/. 14s. half-bound; or, with the plates uncoloured, in 2 vols. — Tl. 7s. . ‘ae A few copies of this Work, in 4 vols. folio, with the figures more highly finished, price 21/. in boards. ; ; ACCOUNT of a TOUR in NORMANDY, undertaken. chiefly for the Pur- ~ pose of Investigating the Architectural Antiquities of the Duchy; with — Obs rvations on its History, on the Country, and on its Inhabitants. By — DAWSON TURNER, Esq., F.R.S. &c. In 2 vols. royal 8vo, illustrated — with 50 copper-plates, besides wood-cuts, price 2/. 2s. in boards. ! 3 A DESCRIPTIVE CATALOGUE of RECENT SHELLS, according to the Linnean Method, with particular attention to the Synonymy. By — LEWIS WESTON DILLWYN, F.R.S., F.L.S., &c. In 2 vols. 8yo. price reduced to 1/. 5s. in boards. . th oes ; E This Work contains.a Catalogue of all the Shells in Gmelin’s last Edition of Linnzeus’s — Systema Naturz, others in Martini and Chemnitz’s Historia Conchyliorum, and in the — Linnzan Transactions, &c.; with References to the different Publications in which they ~ are figured, and a copious Index. “a 4 Eat Paes : Q In 18mo. price 4s. in cloth. LECTURES on the Means of Promoting and Preserving Health, delivered at the Mechanics’ Institute, Spitalfields, by THOMAS HODGKIN, M.D. ey bs vines * |. SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, AND Co, S eee Soe 2c NOVISIB No. XVII. THE ANALYST: QUARTERLY JOURNAL, SCIENCE, LITERATURE, " NATURAL HISTORY, AND THE FINE ARTS. 4 EDITED BY W. HOLL, Esa., F.G.S., AND NEVILLE woop, Esaq., | (aurTHoR 0 or “BRITISH SONG BIRDS,” “ORNITHOLOGIST’s TEXT BOOK,” &e.) . . London: eae STATIONERS HALL COURT ; WHYTE & 0, EDINBURGH; BARON DRAKE, BIRMINGHAM ; 3 GRAPEL, LIVERPOOL 5 3; BANCKS AND CO., MANCHESTER} DEIGHTON, STRATFORD, RIDGE, D HAVILLE, WORCESTER 3 JEW, GLOUCESTER; H. DAVIS, CHELTENHAM 3 EDDOWES, SHREWSBURY} SHARPE, WARWICK; W. PARKE, WOLVERHAMPTON ; TODD, H. BELLERBY. MARSH, YORK; RODFORD AND STEPHENSON, J. NOBLE, GODDARD AND ~ BROWN, HULL; NICHOLLS, STANFIELD, HURST, WAKEFIELD; CURRIE AND, BOWMAN, NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE; T. BROOK AND CO., © WHITE, - DONCASTER ; AND ALL BOOKSELLERS IN TOWN AND COUNTRY. Price Four. Sarn.ines. | Pas ".. Barlow Printer, Birmingham, . CONTENTS. Some Remarks on the Dissolution of the Monasteries...................0000: 177 Observations on the Nomenclature of Neville Wood’s British Song Birds 191 PROT WV ONS 6s isi vontetuan ks sade chose cre kanain thee em cates t He ceiah poem ae uemeE LS 197 The Fishes of Britain systematically arranged ...........000..cceecccceeeee ees 204 On the Effects of certain Mental and Bodily States upon the Imagina- tion, by Tadngston Parker, S0Ggs (ice. isk Co ieailes seus dasenynvvsaducverce bes 216 Swarm of Minute Insects in and around Macclesfield ..:... ..............045 234 ENE Poet SUSUR Ro Siioo. is sb scenseeyi oes chwnpataet peitdad ieeues 24204374) bares 238 Thoughts on the Sublime in MusSic «2.00.0... ..c.c. eee ceceetecececesepeeceverceces 241 Anecdotes Elucidatory of the Natural History of the Ermine Weasel, ( Mustella Erminea, Linn.) by Sir O. Mosley, Bart., M.P., D.C.L. 250 Some Remarks on the Philosophy and Observances of Shakspeare.— “The Two-Gentlemen of Verona” \2. 5.56. o yeti csctweeee day cedovciceyee 251 On the Connection of Phrenology with Physiognomy, by J. L. Levison 270 Remarks on Museums of Natural History, by John Edward Gray, BRB Bet ee ets ae as We ee aa Sane ce 273 Notes on Natural History Books—No. I.; Insect Architecture............ 281 Correspondence. (5 5.ssn The First and Second Volumes of the Analyst (with Index ), in cloth boards, price 10s., and the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Volumes, price 9s. each, may be had of Simphin, Marshall, and Co., London, and all other Booksellers. 177 SOME REMARKS ON THE DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. Bisnop Burnett in his phillipic against the Monasteries, as the nestling places of indolence, sensuality and irreligion,*—in short, as stained with every vice,—has rather overshot the mark. His sweep- ing accusations in this respect must be taken with certain limita- tions. In the first place he forgets the well authenticated fact, how, by their sudden abolition, towns and provinces were converted into nurseries of ignorance. If our historian had been less exempt upon this subject from prejudices—we might write passions—he would have acknowledged that another evil consequence of the monastic revolution was the check given to the intellectual progress of the country by the destruction of many a valuable library. Had not, indeed, these old catholic establishments been as odious to him as the leprosy, he would have been constrained by the mastery of truth and candour to admit that even the rarities of intellect were con- signed to the flames, solely because they were found in popish re- positories. It was. enough that they should be brought out to the market place and there burnt, “if guilty of no other superstition but red letters in their fronts or titles.’ We may judge of the ex- tent to which this vandalic war was waged against literature, from this single statement of Collier. “ Another misfortune,” says he, ** consequent upon the suppression of the abbeys was an ignorant destruction of a great many valuable books. The books instead of being removed to royal libraries, to those of cathedrals, or the universities, were frequently thrown to the grantees as things of slender consideration.. Their avarice was sometimes so mean, and their ignorance so undistinguishing, that when the covers were somewhat rich and would yield a little, they pulled them off, threw away the books, or turned them to waste paper.” Leland, it is true, succeeded in some measure in stopping this literary devastation by receiving a commission from Henry whieh fully impowered him to preserve a vast number of records and ma- nuscripts. But how inefficient after all was the protection by the king of these learned treasures, notwithstanding “ his solely sove- reign sway,” may be collected from the following indignant evi- dence of Bale, afterwards Bishop of Ossory. ‘I know,” proceeds * See Hist. of the Reformation, vol. i., p. 296, 364. VOL. V.——-NO. XVIII. Z 178 SOME REMARKS ON THE he, ‘a merchant which shall at this time be nameless, that bought the contents of two noble libraries for forty shillings price, a shame it is to be spoken. This stuff he hath occupied instead of grey pa- per by the space of more than these ten years, and yet he hath store enough for as many years to come. Our posterity may well curse this wicked fact of our age, this unreasonable spoil of England’s most noble antiquities.”* In descanting upon this momentous change in the frame of our ecclesiastical polity, Burnett does, however, allow that ‘ some of the abbots understood affairs well.” From this vague and obscure expression, I suppose we are to infer that, at home, these mitred chiefs, as legislative counsellors of the realm, played a prominent part in the civil transactions of the state; and that abroad, from their being frequently employed in embassies throughout the conti- nent of Europe, they had acquired a knowledge of the world, and of various improvements in social life. A less sworn enemy to the monastic foundations would not have failed to notice that, while skilfulness in “the noble art of the chace” constituted the sole pride and glory of the ruling caste, many of the abbots became, to their real credit and honour, the encouragers of ‘ book learning,” and their abbatial houses the seminaries of learning and piety. Under the roof of Thomas Bromele, abbot of the mitred monas- tery of Hyde, near Winchester, eight youths of gentle birth and blood, received literary instruction and religious education, and were constantly admitted to his tablet The Abbot of Glastonbury adopted a similar practice. ‘ His apartment,” says the learned his- torian of that monastery, “ was a kind of well-disciplined court where the sons uf noblemen and young gentlemen were wont to be sent for virtuous education, who returned thence home excellently accomplished.”{ Richard Whiting, the last Abbot of Glastonbury, whose execution appears to have been an act of flagrant injustice,§ * Eccles. Hist., vol. ii., p. 166. + See Warton’s Hist. of English Poetry, vol. iii., p. 269. + Hist. and Antiq. of Glastonbury, Oxon, 1722, p. 98. § According to the notorious Sanders, he was hung up near his abbey, and quartered on the same day, without even the form of a trial.—_De Schism. Anglie. Lond., 1634, p. 138. But, from the most authentic evidence, it is clear that the commissioners appointed to examine into the state of this mo. mastery did not, through a consciousness of their monstrous illegality, ven- ture upon such extreme proceedings. “My Lorde, thies shal be to asser- teyne that, on Thursdaye, the xiiijth daye of this present moneth, the Abbott of Glastonburye was arrayned, and the next daye putt to execucyon with ij. other of his monkes.”—See John Lord Russell’s letter to Lord Cromwell, DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. 179 during the period of his rule, educated three hundred youths, who lived domesticated with him, besides bestowing large benefactions upon many indigent scholars who could not support the expenses of an university education. Among the abbots who were themselves the possessors of great mental endowments may be mentioned the names of Hugh Faringdon,* the last Abbot of Reading, William Frysell,t Prior of the Cathedral Benedictine Convent, at Roches- ter, John Batmanson,{ Prior of the Carthusians in London, John Webbe,§ Prior of the Benedictine Convent at Coventry, and Keder- minster,|| Abbot of Winchecombe, in Gloucestershire. Several more instances might be recorded of abbots who passed their lives respecting the trial and execution of the abbot and two monks of Glaston- bury, in Ellis’s Series of Hist. Letters, vol. ii., p. 99. The Roman Catholic writers stoutly deny Burnett’s assertion, that at the gallows the abbot con- fessed the justice of his sentence. There can be little doubt but that the whole machinery of persecution was gradually brought into work against him. It was not likely that the richest of abbacies, after St. Peter’s, should be allowed to escape the grasp of the secular and avaricious magnates, when so many of the priories were reduced by them toa state of poverty ap- proaching the apostolic standard. There were sixteen mitred abbots which had revenues above £1,000. per ann. St. Peter’s, Westminster, was valued at £3,977., and Glastonbury at £3,508.—See Speed’s Catalogue of Religious Houses apud Collier, append., p. 34. * See his Latin Epistles addressed to the University of Oxford, while the praises bestowed upon them by Warton may be considered as no mean evi- dence of their excellence.—Vol. iii., p. 278. +- That learned Orientalist, Robert Wakefield, in his Oratio de laudibus et utilitate trium Linguarum Arabie, Chaldaice, et Hebraice, pronounces a warm eulogium on him as a judge of critical literature.—See Leland, Collect., vol. iL, p. 18. + Robert Shirwoode, who published a latin translation of Ecclesiastes, with critical annotations on the Hebrew text, styles him, from his profound erudition and generous love of letters, Monachorum Decus.—Leland, Collect., vol. ii, p. 23. § Warton assigns to this monk a high rank as a scholar, when he says that “he controverted Erasmus’s Commentary on the New Testament with a degree of spirit and erudition which was unhappily misapplied, and would have done honour to the cause of his antagonist.”—V ol. iii., p. 272. _ || This admirable person instituted lectures in his monastery for the ex- planation of the Scriptures in their original language, to which so many re- sorted that he became the establisher, as it were, of another university.— “Non aliter quam si fuisset altera nova universitatis.”"—See Wood, Hist. Univ. Oxon., vol. i., p. 241. Longland, the most eloquent bishop of his day, and Henry’s favourite preacher, has dedicated to Kederminsier five quadra- gesimal sermons, delivered at Court, in which he expatiates at some length on his singularis eruditio, and other rare attainments. 180 SOME REMARKS ON THE in arduous study and patronized those who trod in their footsteps ; thus illustrating the enlightened and munificent spirit with which they appropriated their vast revenues,* to seize upon which by law —for under the sanction of law Henry did his most barefaced exactions—was, beyond all dispute, the chief inducement for him and his subservient peers to make their imperfect profession of protestantism. It was certainly from no particular admiration of the conventual houses that Williams, the Speaker of the House of Commons, assured Elizabeth that the demolition of the monasteries had effectuated the ruin of an hundred flourishing schools,t and thus ignorance had overspread the land. Now, admitting the immensity of monastic wealth, yet if we are caudid, if we come to the consideration of the question impartially, and without any wrong bias, we must at least admit that a great portion of it was expended in the exercise of beneficence, and the prosecution of apparently disinterested views. Accumulative proof no doubt. we have, that a superior form of religion grew out of the confiscation of monastic property, and which has consecrated, so to speak, the movements of Henry against it. But while to the ken of the ?eformed Catholic, the superstitious pageantry and formalities, the idolatry of saint and relic worship, the ritual disfigured by mummery, the pious frauds and lying wonders performed within the walls of the religious houses, present only objects of rational aversion,{ still should there be a gentleness and candour infused * Speed computes the yearly value of the religious houses suppressed in England and Wales, which Camden, in his Britannia, affirms to have been 641 at £161,000., composing, as Lord Herbert remarks, above a third part of the ecclesiastical revenues of the kingdom. Burnet, however, asserts, “ that the clear annual value, cast up in an account he had seen, to be at £131,607. 6s. 4d., as the rents were then stated, but was at least at ten times so much in true value.” —Hist. Reform., vol. i., p. 538. This statement must surely be exaggerated; though it is highly probable that the rapacious and artful courtiers may have undervalued those estates, in the hopes of obtaining — grants or sales of them more readily. + See Strype, Annal. Reform., sub ann. 1562, p. 212. + We have the high authority of Mr. Kinsey for asserting that monkery still produces its usual fruits in Portugal. From many others given by this writer, take the following instance of impious jugglery practised by the monks on the credulous superstition of the people:—“This feast of Nossa Senhora da Conceicad da Rocha was announced on the previous night by a grand display of fireworks and an extensive illumination. From the top of the stone cross above the church, the patriots had contrived to make a fiery dove—representing the third person of the Trinity—suddenly descend upon a castle composed of rockets and other combustibles and ignite them. They DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. 181 into his judgment from the consideration, that these noble masses of architecture were in times of internal-warfare and general inse- curity the sanctuaries in which peaceful industry, trade, agriculture, and arts found an asylum; and it must not be dissembled, often did he who fled from the pursuit of justice there find protection, and sometimes presumable it is, amendment of life—the place being so fitted to throw the mind into a train of’serious and solemn reflection. In the following lines of a Protestant Poet and Divine, Crabbe, may be said to be chanted the dirge over these fallen monuments of another age :— “'They look, they can but look with many a sigh On sacred buildings doom’d in dust to lie ; Where trembling penitents their guilt confess’d, Where want had succour, and contrition rest ; There, weary men from trouble found relief, There men in sorrow found repose in grief : To scenes like these, the fainting soul retired, Revenge and anger in their cells expired, By pity soothed, remorse lost haif her fears, And softened pride dropped penitential tears.” Be it further observed, that the monasteries were the infirmaries, the dispensaries, the hospitals of the aged sick and needy—the hos- telries of the weary and benighted traveller—the retreats of the penitent, and of those who shrunk from the tyranny of the baronial castle, and from the strifes and storms of the open world ;* instantly took fire, and the deluded multitude seemed to rejoice in this shameful familiarity with the Divine Spirit. The forms and ceremonies of the Romish Church, thus addressing the senses and the weak imaginations of the ignorant vulgar, render the attendance on them more a matter of pleasure and relaxation, than the performance of a solemn and important duty, or an act of pure worship.”— Portugal Illustrated, second edit., p. 149. This statement, if made by a nameless writer, might almost be discredited on the ground of its not being a possible or conceivable thing, that any Europe- an nation in the nineteenth century could be still in the infancy of the world with respect to the cause of truth and the gradual progress of the human mind. ‘The scrupulous veracity, however, of Mr. Kinsey, renders his testi- mony of facts of the greatest weight; while his acute and just observations, graphic descriptions of scenery, in addition to the faculty which he has of seizing with a rapidity of glance so happily expressed by the French phrase, coup dil, the character of a country or people, enable the most impartial criticism to rank his name high among British travellers. * There is much deep reflection and calm extension of view in this re- mark of Hume:—“ A woman of family, who failed of a settlement in the marriage state—an accident to which such persons were more liable than 182 SOME REMARKS ON THE and while surveying the remains of some of those bold projecting towers,* so grand and imposing even in their ruins,t he may not be disposed to reject it altogether as an absurd fiction, that the acts of brotherly love and charity} done within their habitations were the electrical conductors which so long averted from them the thunder- bolt of destruction. Can we wonder, then, at the murmurings, the repugnance, and even recoiling sense of horror, expressed by many an honest head of a house on what he conceived a most criminal sacrilege, on resigning that which the Prior of Henton says “ was not his to geve, being dedicate to Allmyghtye Gode for service to be done to hys honour continuallye, with other many good deeds of daylye charite to christen neybours.”§ These monastic rulers were certainly not such monsters as some of our progenitors have painted them ; since all who know anything of the times we are speaking of, must be distinctly aware, that they were infinitely better landlords and agriculturists than the lay-proprietors of the soil. In the former capacity, they took the most natural way of encouraging husbandry or tillage by being moderate in their rents, and exacting no exorbitant fines upon the renewal of their leases; and in the latter, they made the most effec- tive improvements by causing the woods to be cleared, the marshes to be drained, the commons to be cultivated, orchards, gardens, women of lower station—had really no rank which she properly filled; and a convent was a retreat both honorable and agreeable, from the inutility and often want which attended her situation.”— Hist. of England, vol. iv., p. 179. * See Remarks on the Ecclesiastical Towers of Norfolk and Suffolk, in Archeologia, vol. 23, p. 14. + The fierce puritanism of Mr. M‘Crie here flashes broadly and most of- fensively upon many an episcopalian eye. John Knox himself, in his well- known exclamation “that the best way to keep the rooks from returning, was to pull down their nests,” could not have more testified his intense hatred to the monastic institutions, than his worthy disciple in the following sarcastic paragraph :—“ If the matter be viewed in this light, antiquarians have no reason to complain of the ravages of the reformers, who have left them much valuable remains and placed them in that very state which awakens in their minds the most lively sentiment of the sublime and beau- tiful, by reducing them to—ruins.”—Life of John Knox, vol. i., p. 274. + Collier, Wood, Hearne, Drake, Browne, Willis, and others of the class of Romanizing writers, are evidently too favourable to the monastic orders. But those who have heaped obloquy and opprobrium upon them, are com- pelled to allow that, in almsgiving, there was no deviation from the rule of life prescribed by their founders. § See Ellis’s Original Letters, vol. ii., pp. 71, 77: vol. ii., p. 130, second series, DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. 183 vineyards to be planted, and, by the operation of chalking,* they turned many a barren into a fruitful field. From these religious houses forming a sort of spiritual corporation throughout Europe, the general chapters of each order served as a canal to convey to the monks every improvement abroad or at home, by the means they afforded of a ready interchange of ideas. Under such circumstances it stands, therefore, to reason, that the superiority of the ecclesias- tical chiefs over the lay possessors of land was as conspicuous as their qualifications for state employments.t This piece of justice we may render to these superiors of the old foundations without any risk, we suppose, of our protestant feelings and attachments being called in question—without our being suspected of the wish that we were now writing under the government of his holiness the pope, or bowing the knee at the shrine of St. Becket. The accomplished scholar, the man of fine genius and generous spirit in his high exultation at the advanced state of knowledge, as he contemplates it under all the possible varieties of aspect, will readily acknowledge that monkery rendered this service in its day and generation,—it saved the remains of ancient authors from irretrievably perishing. The art of writing} preserved in the soli- tude of the cloister, reared as it were a wall of adamant around those remains, till the discovery of printing made their destruction impossible. And though the writings of the monkish historians, as they are contemptuously. styled, do not exhibit specimens of the poe- tical history of Livy, or of the philosophical history of Tacitus, yet under a rude and slovenly exterior, they contain much curious in- formation on the manners and opinions of their contemporaries im- * This taunting observation of Peter of Blois, clearly indicates that some of them were more intent upon becoming nursing fathers of agriculture than of the church :-—“ Quee utilitas quod fimo et cret& ager sationarius impingua- tur, si in Dominicze messis cultura, nec spina evellitur nec extirpatur tribu- lus, nec verbum Domini seminatur.”—Peir. Bles., Ep. v. + In part liv. of the Penny Magazine—article, Byland Abbey,—there are some very interesting and instructive remarks upon the monastic rulers, in their characters of proprietors of land. + Contemporary and posthumous fame, as well as present fortune, became the reward of those whose pens supplied the fairest and most correct copies to their several monasteries. L’art de copier devint une source de fortune, de gloire méme: on célébrait les monastéres ot se faissent les copies les plus exactes et les plus belles, et dans chaque monastére les moi- nes qui excellaient 4 copier. L’abbaye de Fontenelle en particulier, et deux de ses moines, Ovon et Hardouin acquirent en ce genre une veritable renom- mee.”.—Cours d’ Histoire Moderne, par M. Guizot, p. 356. 184 SOME REMARKS ON THE parted with a charm of simplicity, which is rarely to be found among the attractions of adorned writers ; while the Latin style of some of these chroniclers, for instance, that of John of Salisbury, Peter of Blois, Joseph of Exeter, and William of Malmsbury, fre- quently discloses all the nice and more delicate shades of that noble language. We must not also forget to observe, that several abbots and priors deserve the utmost praise for their encouragement of the fine arts, which, though they do not in themselves constitute virtue, yet greatly tend to promote it by shutting out idleness, the prepara- tive for almost every vice. We read of the monks pursuing “ paint- ing, carving, graving, and the like exercises,’* with that degree of interest as if they had quite a passion for some of these objects. It has been often said, that the monks had earned the hatred of the people by their avarice: but it is worthy of remark, that so long as the great monastic corporation existed, no legal provision for the sustentation of the poor was enforced,t and that not many years after the forfeiture of its revenues, the celebrated statute of the 5th of Elizabeth was passed. By satirists{ and censurers, the monks have been represented as not allowing an income to the incumbents of their livings, adequate to the purposes of existence ; yet no law was deemed necessary for preventing the dilapidation of parsonages till the 13th of the same reign. Now, it must be conceded, that the monks were incredibly expensive in their passion for decorating their chapels to the occasional detriment of their country churches. Their immoderate love for the most elaborate ornaments of the chisel and the pencil in them may be acknowledged indefensible, and almost in- eurable. Still with no sort of truth or justice can it be said that they * Lord Herbert’s Life and Reign of King Henry VIII., p. 186. + The Lincolnshire Remonstrance (apud Speed, 1033), in reference to the evils resulting from the abolition of the monastic houses, notices that of the “ poreality of the realm being thereby unrelieved.” But though the compul- sary system of parochial relief was established in Elizabeth’s reign, yet the first act for the relief of the indigent poor was passed in 1535, (27, H. VIEL, c. 25). According to Spelman, the bill for giving the king and his heirs all monastic establishments was not at all relished by the Commons, who were very backward in passing it till the imperious despotism of Henry was shown in the threat of striking off some of their heads if there was not a prompt obedience to the royal will.—See Hist. and Fate of Sacrilege, p. 183. Many in the House of Commons thought, naturally enough, that the for- feited revenues, instead of being appropriated to the benefit of the Crown; should revert to the representatives of the original founders. + Piers Plowman is one of the satirists who attacks the monks on that score,‘ of them, they have no pitie.” DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. 185 ever tarnished their memories to all subsequent ages as the lay im- propriators have done (would that the race were for ever extinct) by ‘* pulling down the houses on an estate, in order that there might be no congregation, and then transforming the church into a straw barn,* because there was none.” Truly a more execrable or effec- tual expedient for devising that the beams of divine light should not penetrate within those churches, cannot well be imagined. The advantages of competence unquestionably were not supplied by the monks to their vicar ; ‘‘ But now,” remarks a writer of those times, ‘there is no vicar at all, but the farmer is vicar and parson altoge. ther ; and only an old cast-away monk or friar, which can scarcely say his mattins, is hired for twenty or thirty shillings, meat and drink, yea, in some places, for meat alone without any wages.’t The lean kine devoured the fleshy ones, and yet looked nothing the better for their meal. The spoilers of the church did themselves very little good with their booty. It is a curious statement of Sir Henry Spelman, about the year 1616, that on comparing the man- sion houses of twenty-four families of gentlemen in Norfolk with as many monasteries, all standing together at the dissolution, and all lying within a ring of twelve miles the semi-diameter, he found the former still possessed by the lineal descendants of their original occupants in every instance, whilst the latter, with two exceptions only, had flung out their owners again and again, some six times over, none less than three, through sale, through default of issue, and very often through great and grievous disasters.{ This work of pillage figures dreadfully also in the minds of other men who were no more heated enthusiasts—no more under the influence of fanatical infatuation—no more liable to the exaggerations and false conclusions of an excited imagination—than the grave and learned lawyer and antiquary just quoted. Archbishop Whitgift, in his address to Queen Elizabeth on this subject, observes—‘‘ Jt is a truth already become visible in many families that church land added to an ancient and just inheritance hath proved like a moth fretting a garment, and hath secretly consumed both.§ The firm- nerved and not unscrupulous Burleigh, when his own personal * Strype, Cranmer, p. 412. See, also, the 8th chapter of Blunt’s “‘ Sketch of the Reformation of England,” for an account of the dissolution of the mo- nasteries, which is given with much force and judgment, and is the result of very considerable research. + Kennet, On Impropriations, p. 161. + Hist. and Fate of Sacrilege, p. 243. § Eccle. Biog., vol. iv., p. 286. VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. A2 186 SOME REMARKS ON THE aggrandizement was concerned, and who certainly had more of the Puritan than the Romanist in him, admonishes his future heir to beware how he meddled with church property ; ‘ for the curse of God will follow all them that meddle with such a thing that tends to the destruction of the most apostolical church upon earth.”’* And even Selden, ‘‘ the chief of learned men reputed in this land,” as Milton styles him, he whom no one will accuse of an excessive zeal for ecclesiastical rights, declares, in reference to the alienation of tithes, “It is a destruction for a man to devour what is conse- crated.” Burnett, in the violence of his antipathy against the monastic establishments, has completely overlooked all the good points—if we may so express ourselves—the attractive properties about them. If we are to acquiesce in his opinion, we must believe that monach- ism was a system from which all virtues were excluded, and in which all vices were incorporated.t This assuredly is to form a very erroneous and partial view of the subject; since, if the purest part of religion be benevolence and charity to our fellow creatures, it cannot be doubted that in one sense these endowments stood linked with the favour of heaven. Pope Ganganelli, there- fore, in our opinion, took a more comprehensive view of the matter in hand—manifested more liberal principles—than the protestant bishop, when he said, ‘‘ The religious orders have not been gifted with infallibility nor with indefectibility. If they were all to be abolished this day the loss would be great, but the church would be neither less holy, less apostolical, nor less respectable.” While we join, then, with Burnett, in expressing our devout gratitude that this nation has snapped the chains of popery— —still, never can our reformation be called complete, till the cler- gyman is enabled to exist upon the emoluments of a single bene- fice. Centuries have rolled away since the despoliation of the * Kennet’s Impropriation, p. 438. + The preamble of 27 H. VIIL., c. 28, which assigns the lesser monaste- ries to the king, sets forth the monstrous disorders that were found to exist in them. But no charge of misconduct is brought against the greater ones, in the edict which proclaims their downfall. This silence suggests a proba- ble argument that their abolition was not the consequence of immorality or want of discipline ; though that “good hater” of them, Burnett, has cited cases which, if not resting on vague and uncertain traditions, must be allow- ed to prove that “iniquity greatly abounded” in them. We must not for- get that even Sanders admits that crimes were detected under the monkish cowl, though invention exaggerated them. “ Criminibus religiosum partim detectis, partim confictis.” DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. 187 monastic communities, yet we have lived to see that most effec- tive defender of our branch of the church, Bishop Jewell, speak like a true prophet, in saying that the spirit of sacrilege which consigned the conventual revenues to the grasp of avaricious re- formers and to the parasites of a court* instead of applying them to the erection of schools and to the furtherance of other religious ob- jects, would be ‘‘ a plague to posterity, the decay and dissolution of the church of God.”+ The very name of plurality carries its condemnation with it. It is for lay-impropriators to remove a stigma which has been so long and so unjustly fastened upon the church through their means, and which has been a constant source of regret to her friends, and of calumnious invectives to her enemies. Papistical Mary, be it re- membered to her infinite honour, restored, from conscientious mo- tives, the abbey lands which had been attached to the crown, and with them the first-fruits and tenths ; and when her unprincipled courtiers, with a view to frighten her out of this intention, told her that, if such was her will and pleasure, she would impair the dig- * Had those, whose fervent but mistaken piety founded these conventual houses, been permitted to revisit the earth about the middle of the sixteenth century, with what affright, horror, and amazement would they have seen the glut of wealth poured into the royal exchequer by their suppression, dis- sipated in such a manner as would have puzzled them to determine whether the reigning prince exhibited, in the disposal of his newly-acquired treasures, the character of the spendthrift, the gamester, the madman, or the profaner of holy things. From authentic documents, we learn that Henry made a grant of a religious house to one who had the good fortune to please his pa- late with a savoury dish of puddings; to Sir Miles Partridge he lost a fine ring of bells by a single throw of the dice; while to him whose office it was to set the royal chair at a convenient distance from the fire, the gift or lease of abbey-lands was granted.—_See Fuller, b. vi., p. 336, 337; Hist. of Abbeys, p- 335. According to that vehement reformer, Bale, a great part of the mo- nastic treasure was turned by Henry ‘to the upholding of dice-playing, masquing, and banquetting,” “yea,” he adds, “(I would I couid not by just occasion speak it), bribing, whoring, and swearing.”—Bale, apud Strype, vol. i., p. 361. + In the memorable sermon preached by this illustrious divine before Ei- zabeth and her Court, in which he so courageously denounces and exposes the ruinous impropriations and other shameful abuses of church-property, after observing that a gentleman cannot keep house unless he have a parsonage or two in farm in his possession, he then exclaims, ‘‘O, merciful God ! whereto will this grow at last. Ifthe misery which this plague worketh would reach to but one age, it were tolerable: but it will be a plague to the posterity—it will be the decay and desolation of God’s church.”—Jewell’s Works, edit. 1611, Serm. iii., p. 191, 192. 188 SOME REMARKS ON THE nity of the crown, the sturdy and honest bigot replied that she valued. her salvation more than ten kingdoms. And it is evident from the following passage in Burnett that great apprehensions were entertained lest the queen, in the plenitude of her benevolence and justice, should prescribe to her subjects a similar course of pro- eeeding, though it can scarcely be doubted that nothing short of an irresistible necessity would have led them to submit. “‘ On the 23rd of November, the bill for suppressing the first fruits and tenths, and the resigning up all impropriations that were yet in the Queen’s gift to the church, to be disposed of as the legate pleased for the relief of the clergy, was brought into the house. It was once thought fit to have the surrender of impropriations left out; for it was said the queen might do that as well by letters patent, and if it were put in the bill it would raise great jealousies, since it would be understood that the queen did expect that her subjects should follow her example.”* Now, beyond all controversy, it would be reaching at once the summit of what is most absurd in conception it would be making the closest approximation in point of rationality to an inmate of Bedlam—to entertain for a moment the supposition, that any lay impropriator of these days would be, like Mary, in- fluenced, ‘* by compunctious visitings”’, to restore to the church the things which were once hers. * No: all is lost !_the earth where abbeys stood Is layman’s land, the glebe, the stream, the wood.” Such an occurrence would, indeed, be just as likely to happen as that Norwich should ever again have sixty parish churches for a popula- tion of six thousand souls.t But when the interests of religion so materially suffer by the church having been shorn of her patrimonyt * Hist. of the Reformation, vol. ii. p. 647. + The Subsidy Roll of 51 Edward IIL. which contains a return of all lay persons, male and female, above fourteen years of age, (real mendicants ex- cepted), all of whom were subjected by a statute of that year to a poll tax of a groat, has brought the above extraordinary fact to light.—“ Observations” by Henry Hallam “ on a Communication made to him by Sir Francis Pal- grave, respecting the population of certain districts in Wiltshire, Essex, and: Kent, in the time of Henry VIII.”—See Proceedings of the Statistical Society of London, vol. i., 1835-1836, No. 3, p. 90. $¢ Those who are disposed to indulge in their “ railing accusations” against the church, on the score of her imputed wealth would do well: to ponder on: these memorable words of Lord Bacon:—* All the parliaments, since the 27th and 3lst of Henry VIIL., who gave away impropriations from the church, seem to stand in a sort obnoxious and obliged to God, in conscience, DISSOLUTION OF THE MONASTERIES. 189 —by her revenues being so secularized—surely, surely it is the duty of every lay impropriator to do his utmost to remedy the sub- stantial evil here complained of, by a cordial co-operation with those of their class who are promoting the public weal in the erec- tion of district churches* on their estates ; and thus trying to erase the foul and ugly spot which tarnishes the family escutcheon, cha- racterized by the name of church spoliation. Let them remove, then, as far as lies in their power, what is so grievously injurious to the cause of true religion, and a future age will forget, in their christian virtues and charities, the sacrilegious purloinings of their forefathers. Let them, we say, give ear to their king’s letter, and multiply, according to their respective means, churches and chapels, which are the glory of the land—the greatest instruments of inter- nal tranquillity—the firmest and cheapest defences against the out- breakings of an unchristian population—the most sure and certain antidote to a country’s ruin. Let them so signalize themselves, and they will render these accusatory complaints, now apposite and co- gent, not only ill-timed and ill-judged, but positively uncharitable. *¢ The lay impropriators are indeed the principal cause of the strait- ened circumstances in which so many of the English clergy pass to do somewhat for the church, to reduce the patrimony thereof to a compe- tence. For since they have debarred Christ’s wife of a great part of her dowry, it were reason they made her a competent jointure.” It is a consti- tution of the divine law, from which human laws cannot derogate, that those which feed the flock should live of the flock—-that those which serve at the altar should live ‘of the altar—that those which dispense spiritual things: should reap spiritual things; of which it is also an appendix, that the pro- portion. of the maintenance be not small or necessitous, but plentiful and li- beral.” * Atthe bare mention of District Churches, what mortal being is there, who longs for the christian education of the people and the promotion of Christ’s kingdom, that does not feel his pulse quicken with tumultuous throbs of admiration at the glorious manner in which somany among the opu- lent of the clergy have responded to the public appeal of the Bishop of Lon- don to aid his design of erecting fifty new district churches in the Metropolis, to stop the moral pestilence which infects its countless bye-streets and alleys, by bringing their densely crowded population to the true knowledge of the true God. It would be singular then, indeed, if this eagerness on the part of the clergy to honour the Lord with a portion of their substance, should not find many imitators among the noble and wealthy of the laity. And when this high and holy enterprise shall be accomplished, where is the man, whose heart is in its right place, that will not say with us, that this great Bishop of our church has not only served his own generation, by calling these religious fabrics into existence, but levied a tax of admiration and gratitude upon a future one. 190 SOME REMARKS ON THE, &c. their lives. To the same source must also be traced the plurali- ties, non-residence, and scanty provision for unbeneficed ministers, which furnish the envious, the ill-informed, and the malignant ad- versaries of our church establishment with a never-failing supply of specious topics for illiberal declamation.”’* But, according to the judgment of many, these emphatic censures lose half their force by the putting of this single question. What would have become of your established church, if there had been no Lay Imprupriators in the Houses of Lords and Commons to protect it? Our answer is, if this species of temporal corporation is to be its strength of guardianship—if it is to exist only by such wills and agencies—if this is to be its transcendent element of safety—then, we fear not to say, better, far better, it should fall into ruins around us—be demolished entirely. We would not put forth a finger to uphold a religious system, “ upon the mere ground of maintaining property.’ Those who are inclined to place worldly on a level with religious considerations, may reject these opinions for their injudi- ciousness and extravagance, and as repugnant even to the no- tions of all high churchmen. They are, however, fully shared— they are potently corfirmed by a writer, whose orthodoxy stands forth so prominently in his productions, that to hint a suspicion against it, would as much expose the person to the imputation of being bereft of sense, as if he were to advance this unqualified po- sition, that Howard was no philanthropist, or Burke no orator. These are his striking and weighty words; and with them we shall bring our remarks toa close. ‘I had rather the church were levelled to the ground by a nation really, honestly, and seriously think- ing they did God service in doing so, (great as the sin would be,) than that it should be upheld on the mere ground of maintaining property ; for I think thisa much greater sin. I think that the wor- shippers of Mammon will be in worse case before Christ’s judgment seat than the mistaken zealot. Ifa man must be one or the other (though he ought to be neither), but if I must choose for him, I had rather he should be Saul raging like a wild beast against the church, than Gallio caring for none of these things, or Demas loy- ing the present world, or Simeon trafficking with sacred gifts, or Ananias grudging Christ his substance, and seeking to be saved as cheaply as possible.”*t KS * Soames’ History of the Reformation, vol. ii, p. 296. + Newman’s Parochial Sermons, vol. iii, p. 232. 191 OBSERVATIONS ON THE NOMENCLATURE OF NEVILLE WOOD’S “ BRITISH SONG BIRDS.” Ir was the intention of Mr. Neville Wood to have prefixed an Introduction to his recently published British Song Birds, contain- ing, amongst other matters, a discourse on the nomenclature adopted in the work; but as many circumstances conspired to prevent his effecting this object, and as several of his friends have expressed their regret at this omission, we propose to supply the deficiency in the present number of the Analyst. Before proceeding further, it may be as well to mention that the plan, so often alluded to in previous numbers, of allotting an English generic and specific ap- pellation to each species, has been observed throughout. We now proceed to give our reasons for the alterations in nomenclature which occur in various parts of the book ; of course passing over without comment such designations as remain unchanged. To commence, then, with the ‘“ Song Thrush,” or “ Throstle,” of most authors. This name. would seem to imply that this bird was the only species in the genus which sings ; but as the Missel Thrush warbles melodiously, and both the Field and Redwing Thrushes have a song, it is obviously incorrect. Garden Thrush appears to us to be exclusive, at least as far as regards British birds, which, on the present occasion, will alone occupy our attention.— Garden Thrush, 7'urdus hortensis. Field Thrush, which is adopted in the Song Birds, is not exclu- sive, as it would apply equally well to the Redwing Thrush, but it must remain until a better occurs. Garden Ouzel is employed instead of Black Ouzel ; there being two British Ouzels ( Merula), both black. Tree Redstart might perhaps admit of improvement, but it is used, provisionally, instead of Common—the most vague and unsa- tisfactory term ever introduced into scientific nomenclature.—Tree Redstart, Phenicura albifrons, Blyth. The next species is designated, after other Ornithologists, Tithys Redstart, Phanicura Tithys ; but Tithys appears to be a mere fan- ciful name, and we propose to substitute in its stead Blackthroated Redstart, Ph. nigricollis (S. D. W.), the application of which is too obvious to require any comment from us. The third species usually considered a Redstart, has been sepa- rated from that genus by Mr. Blyth, and termed the Bluethroated 192 OBSERVATIONS ON THE NOMENCLATURE OF Fantail, Pandicilla cyanecula—names which, in our opinion, scarce admit of an objection. ‘This is the Pheenicura Suecica of Selby. The species termed by Mr. Wood the “ Sibilous Brakehopper” (vulgarly Grasshopper Warbler), we now prefer designating the Si- bilous Locustell ( Locustella sibilatriz), as being more euphenious, and consequently more likely to be adopted by the fastidious. Grass- hopper Warbler we reject as transgressing the rule laid down on the outset, that each genus should possess an English name exclusively its own.—Selby includes this bird in the genus Salicaria ; but, al- though it has a close affinity to that genus, its comparatively long hind wt at once separates it from the Reedlings. Its haunts and habits are, moreover, entirely different. The members of the genus Salicaria are, even by Ornithologists, indifferently termed Wrens or Warblers ; but this is an outrage upon the principles of science, and we see no objection to naming these birds Reedings. Sedge Reedling (S. phragmitis, Selby), and Marsh Reedling (8. arundinacea, Selby), point out, with suffi- cient accuracy, the respective localities to which the species are most partial. Jen Reedling has been proposed for the last-named bird ; but as the alteration is extremely slight, it is not worth while adopting, even supposing it to be an improvement. Brake Nightingale has been used provisionally. Brake is not here employed in the botanical sense of the word, to denote the Pterus aquilina, but in the common meaning. Song and Red-tailed Nightingale have been proposed, but neither of them are sufficiently exclusive; and the practised Ornithologist must be fully aware of the difficulty of selecting any specific appellation that would not be subject to numerous objections. Mr. Wood adopts Fauvet and Ficedula for the frugivorous divi- sion of the Sylviadz, instead of confusing these birds under the names of Warbler and Whitethroat. Garden Fauvet (F. hortensis ), Blackcapt Fauvet (F. atricapilla), Whitethroated Fauvet (F. cine- rea), Whitebreasted Fauvet (F. garrula). ‘The latter is called the Garrulous Fauvet in the Song Birds; we conceive, how- ever, that its Whitethroated congener would be about a match for it in garrulity, and, therefore, now prefer calling it the White- breasted Fauvet, as proposed by Mr. Blyth. Redeyed Whinling. This is given instead of Dartford Warbler, so called because the bird was first met with in England near Dart- ford: it has, however, since been known to occur in many other localities, and the term is, accordingly, objectionable. Whinling is NEVILLE Wwoop’s “ BRITISH SONG BIRDS.” 193 derived from the whins which it frequents. Whether or not Red- eyed forms a good specific appellation, can only be determined when other species of Melizophilus are discovered. At present it appears, as far as we can judge, to be the best of the names that have been given to it. Warbler belongs to what are popularly termed “ Willow Wrens,” as being the typical group of the family, Sylviade. The British species are, the Hedge Warbler (Sylvia loquax), the Wood War- bler (S. siblatrix), and the Willow Warbler (S. melodia). The first of these has been supposed not to frequent hedges so commonly as mentioned by Mr. Wood; and, be this as it may, Dark-legged would afford a far more exclusive distinctive appellation. Golden-crowned Kinglet. As no objection has ever been made to the Latin name Regulus, this has been anglicised into Kinglet, in order to avoid calling the birds of this genus Wrens, which is ma- nifestly improper. . Ivy Wren. This species is termed Jvy Wren on account of its partiality for that plant as a site for its nest, and not, as some have imagined, because it feeds, or is supposed to feed, on ivy berries. It often nestles in ivy-clad walls. Garden Tit is substituted for the more generally known name Great Tit, the adjectives great, little, &c., being liable at any time to become erroneous, from the discovery of species superior or infe- rior in size to the individuals so designated. We would by no means be understood to say that the bird under consideration is the only British Tit that frequents gardens ; but it is certainly more frequently seen in such situations than the others. Perhaps, how- ever, the name admits of improvement. Garden Tit, Parus hor- tensis. Bearded Pinnock. ‘The characters of the Bearded Tit of the older Ornithologists, differ so greatly from those of the other Pari, that it has been ranged in a genus by itself. This genus is now called Pinnock, which may either be understood to have allusion to the shape of the tail of the bird, or it may be supposed to have no derivative meaning. We rather lean to the latter supposition, con- sidering with Dr. Lindley, that unmeaning names are always the best for generic appellations. Hedge Dunnock. Commonly known under the name Hedge Sparrow. Ornithologically speaking, however, it is no Sparrow (Passer,).. Dunnock is derived from the dun colour of the bird, and is a name by which the species has long been known, in various VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2 194 OBSERVATIONS ON THE NOMENCLATURE parts of Britain. Many instances have come to our knowledge of the House Sparrow and Hedge Dunnock being confounded as one and the same bird; and not alone by cocknies, but by individuals who had passed the greater part of their lives in the country. We conceive that we have said enough to convince our read- ers of the evil of continuing to describe Accentor modularis as the “ Hedge Sparrow.” This bird is the Hedge Accentor of some authors, but we think it advisable to give strictly English names, and those which are well known, in every possible case. The Alpine Warbler of Latham and others, included in Cuvier’s ‘genus Accentor, has since been ranked in a separate genus, for which Annet (an unmeaning and consequently an unobjectionable term) has been proposed. Alpine Annet, Curruca collaris. Curruca has been applied to many genera by different authors ; but it suits none so well as the Annet, which is a ground bird. Linneus called the Pied Wagtail Motacilla alba ; a better desig- nation would perhaps have been M. nigra! but we shall prefer the golden mean, and, steering a middle course, name it M. maculosa. The Grey Wagtail should be called M. cinerea (Will.), as having been given long before M. boarula (Linn.). The Yellow Wagtail of authors was very properly removed, by the illustrious Cuvier, to the genus Budytes, for which Oatear is adopted in English. It is also called oat-seed bird provincially. Spring Oatear, Budytes verna, Cuv. Sufficient reasons are ad- duced in the Song Birds, for termingthe Blue-headed Oatear B. cy- anocephala, instead of B. neglecta. They need not, therefore, be repeated here. Oatear is derived from the localities which the bird frequents in those parts where it is migratory. Lavrock is a provincial name for the Sky Lark ; but as the genus Corydalla of Vigors is in want of an English name, why should it not be Tawny Lavrock, C. fusca. It is sometimes named C. Ri- chardi; but it appears to us fanciful and unscientific to name an object in Natural History after an individual with whom it has no connection whatever, either direct or remote. It is no more an ex- clusive designation than Wagtail or Warbler, with which it is equally applicable. The name is not likely to cause confusion, and may therefore stand for Corydalla. The Snow Bunting (Plectrophanes nivalis) is properly called the Snowy Longspur, and the other species the Rusty Longspur (P. Lapponica). Longspur originated, we believe, with Prince C. L. Bonaparte. Chaffinch should be written as two words, thus—Chaff Finch, NEVILLE woop’s ‘‘ BRITISH SONG BIRDS.” 195 otherwise a specific name must be added. Sky Lark, Wood Lark, &c., are often written as single words, but equally erroneously. Willughby’s name, Fringilla montana, should be adopted instead of F. montifringilla (Linn.), both on the score of priority, and as omitting the useless repetition contained in the latter. We may here observe that this truly great Naturalist (Linneus) was too fond of substituting his own names for those which had Jong since been established by Gesner, Aldrovand, Wiliughby, &c. ; and his alterations were often far from being improvements. Carduelis elegans we have described as the Common Goldwing ; C. spinus as the Siskin Goldwing. To call the genus Goldfinch would be improper, as these birds are not Finches ; and we are of opinion that a name appropriated to one genus should not be ap- plied to any other under any combination whatsoever. Common is the best appellation we can find for Carduelis elegans. Indeed, as far as regards British birds, the name could not be improved ; but as the genus contains other species besides those found in this coun- try, we should be happy to have a better suggested. | We have substituted Whin Linnet for Common or Brown Lin- net, neither of the latter being by any means exclusive, as must be apparent to every one at all acquainted with the other Linnets. This species is constantly met with amongst whin bushes, which can be said of none of the others. This bird has been called the Garden Linnet ; but it only frequents gardens during the breeding season ; and even then in much fewer numbers than it all times occurs on furze commons. Selby gives the specific appellation vulgaris to the Haw Gros- beak ; but as the bird happens to be rare in Britain, we have trans- lated the English name into Latin. Coccolhraustes crategus, Blyth, so called from the favourite food of the bird at one season of the year. We rather doubt whether Pippin Crossbill, adopted in the Song Birds, is an improvement on Common Crossbill. Neither of them are exclusive, and we must look out for better names. Pine Grosbeak we render Pine Thickbill. The meaning of both is the same, but Grosbeak is already engaged for Coccothraustes. There are, doubtless, many birds with much thicker bills than the Pine Thickbill ; but if this objection be levelled at the present ap- pellation, most assuredly a similar one will be equally applicable to Grosbeak, Redbreast, and a dozen others. Our Hedge Coalhood is the Bullfinch of other Ornitholc- gists. The latter is equally erroneous with Goldfinch, The new 196 OBSERVATIONS ON THE NOMENCLATURE, &c. generic name, as applied to the British species, is remarkably obvi- ous; but as there are species of Pyrrhula without black heads, it is probable that the name will not stand. Our native Coalhood is chiefly seen about hedges at that season of the year when it is most open to popular observation. Spotted and varius are infinitely superior distinctive designations to Common and vulgaris for the Starling ; and, so far as we are at present aware, they are sufficiently exclusive. On perusing a critique on Hewitson’s British Oology, by Mr. Blyth, we perceive the name Willet is proposed for the genus Bu- dytes. This surpasses our own OQatear, as having no derivative meaning, and being sufficiently euphonious. The species will then stand thus:—Spring Willet, Budytes verna, and Blue-headed Wil- let, B. cyanocephala. Here our task closes; and we flatter ourselves that we have ad- duced sufficiently cogent reasons for the alterations which it has been deemed fit to introduce into the British Song Birds. English nomenclature is, however, still in a very unsettled state; and much remains to be done before we can arrive at anything like perfection. Weare fully aware that our labours in this department will be little appreciated by many anti-reforming Naturalists, although we have no doubt but the change will take place some time, even though it be by slow degrees. What improvement is there that has not met with violent opposition on its first appearance before the public? It is notorious that all the grandest inventions of the human mind have been looked upon, by the leading men of the time at which they were proposed, as the impositions of quacks, or the delusions of fanatics. If such be the reception of the theory of the circulation of the blood, of vaccination, of phrenology, &c., what can we expect for our proposals for a reformed Nomenclature in Natural Science? Why, that they will undergo the usual routine of being ridiculed, scoffed at, and abused by all parties, and then by slow degrees begin to be ap- proved, and at length adopted. Thus much for the nomenclature of British Song birds, which, though defective, as we have seen, in many points, is manifestly a great improvement in this particular on any work hitherto published in the English language. It only remains for us to observe that the author of the book in question is far from addicted to coining new names, those he has adopted hav- ing been, for the most part, published elsewhere. 197. HARD WORDS. * Polonius.—W hat do you read, my Lord ? * Hamlet.—W ords, words, words.” “ StyLE,—Proper words in proper places.”—Swift. “ Nugis addere pondus.”—Epist. xix., Hor. Ws are told that the ancient Pythia poured forth their prophetic rhapsodies in short and abrupt sentences—their words scarcely articulated, and often unintelligible. I have often thought that our language resembles the Latin in its force and character, though more diffuse in its construction: the Roman being rudely engrafted upon our native trunk, produced a hybrid, which thus partakes of qualities of both ; thus our minds have received a sternness and dig- nity, so contradistinguished from the versatile character of pretorian France, and which uniting with the boldness of our barbaric fa- thers, we thus stand out as insular in our character as the land to which we belong. Being an inquisitive old man, the reader will not be surprised to find that I am apt to generalize from very small particulars. I have ever been inclined to speculation ; and I think, as “ small openings show wide prospects,” a trifling fact may involve high moral truths ; and that an idle speculation may, like the impalpable carbon, be resolvable into discoveries of incalculable worth. I hope, therefore, the reader will excuse the eccentricity of my thoughts, and not set me down as a mere dreamer and enthusiast, since the conduct of either is unbecoming to one of my years. Coming back to my first remark on the character of the Pythia, or Grecian divinators, I am bold to think that our language is not the only hybrid which we owe to the ancients, that we also resem- ble them in our ideas and opinions; among which is our na. tional enmity to “hard words:” “ insolens verbum tanquam scopu- lum evitare.” ‘ Avoid a hard word as you would a rock,” said Cesar, and verily we sail so far from Scylla’s mouth that we founder on Charybdis,—Dum brevis esse laboro obscurus fio; for while I labour to be concise I become obscure. It is a self-evident truth of many profound philosophers that words are the images of thoughts, 198 HARD WORDS. the animi umbre—shadows of the mind; deriving so many of our words from the ancients may, in some manner, account for that re- publican sternness of mind with which the English seem to be pos- sessed ; but, leaving the examination of moral similitude, I shall merely touch on the resemblance between us and the Pythia, whom we find were systematic cheats cunningly reposing on the credulity of a superstitious people rather than expose their prophe- cies to too strict an examination. I know not from what particu. lar cause it is that the same obscurity occurs with us of modern times, not in our religious teachings, but in our most ordinary con- versation. I can understand the merit of circumvention when ne- cessary ; the counsellor who perplexes in the extreme, may be par- doned—it is his vocation ; the shopkeeper may overreach you—it is his interest ; sophistry may become a virtue, and cunning an ac- complishment ; but why, in the name of common sense, our youth should, at all times, exercise the same deception of speech, is to me a matter of surprise. Is it that their thoughts are so misbegotten that they are not worthy the dressing? or is it the policy of the courtier—qui nescit dissimulare nescit regnare vel vivere—compels them to practise cunning by a necessity? Being in company with several persons of good breeding and respectability, where the sub- jects of politics, poetry, and religion, succeeded each other, but by what connection I know not, I was both surprised and hurt to hear the awful mysteries of our faith commented on in the same cant- ing, frivolous style as politics, while poetry drew forth no higher expressions than we might hear in Smithfield or on ’Change: there was no warmth of feeling, no power of illustration, and yet, judg- ing from the bright, quickening eyes of two or three of the party, I could not but suspect and hope that there was a deep under-run- ning current of poetic feeling, but which, with infinite zeal, they kept down, and that the fire of the muses and the fire of the altar equally burned in their bosoms, though extinguished by their weak and deadening tones. Yet this was not the only peculiarity of their conversation ; their ideas, though seemingly good, arrayed in a congestion of vile monosyllabic words, and slurred out. with the most trifling indifference, brought them into such confusion and dis- proportion that I was often puzzled to discover any meaning at all. “ Sometimes to sense, sometimes to nonsense, leaning, But always blundering round about their meaning.” Though an old man, and—kind reader, excuse me—not altoge HARD WORDS. 199 ther an unlearned one, I was some time before I could discover the reason of this obfuscation of ideas; when one of my gentlemen, slipping his guard, and using a trisyllable, excused himself with this strange parenthesis—‘‘ as Dr. Johnson would say.” Believe me, good reader, I was never more taken to; for I feared I might my- self have committed the same error, and that with the disadvantage of not having acknowledged it, and thus brought my grey hairs into contempt ; for it is too often the case that ignorance aggravates a fault. What I am anxious to discover, is, the cause of such a strange discipline ; for I must roundly confess I cannot see the advan- tage of concealment where they were neither driving a bargain nor selling an opinion. Whether this disposition to conceal our mean- ing is of Grecian, Roman, or barbaric origin, it is certain that super- stition is alike in her monstrous deformity in every clime ; and thus this national diathesis may be derived rather from the Druids than the Pythia: but I leave this learned inquiry to the re- searches of the curious in antiquities. The evil, whatever be its origin, is ratified by custom. Every rule implies restriction, otherwise it degenerates into tyranny. Thus the Latin ediction has grown into a corruption of no trifling magnitude, and, what is worse, is established by time and confirmed by prejudice. The fear of ‘‘ hard words” is the direct tax of ignorance, insti- tuted by her despotism, as a premium for indolence. It is no won- der, therefore, that we blush at our own words ; and thus a mind naturally born to eminence is subjected to the common level, else pursued by the baleful and biting taunts of the invidious, in which discordant pean, spirits of a better mould are forced to join. Yet, with all this predisposition and idiosyncrasy for garbage, how sensible are we of the contrary. Our language is susceptible of the highest powers of eloquence. With what an instantaneousness, with what an electrical rapidity, does a full-toned mastering word strike upon the soul! echoing through her most intricate labyrinths and awaking a thousand reflections. Words are as the keys of the instrument to the composer ; and to govern them with skill requires familiarity. The sublimest apprehension may be degraded to the ridiculous, as the highest effort of a Cimarosa may be lost in the discord of an awkward performer. * * “« Will you play upon this pipe,’ says Hamlet to Guildenstern. ‘ My Lord, I cannot, I know no touch of it,’ replies the courtier. ‘’Tis as easy as lying,’ retorts the satirical prince ; ‘ govern these ventages with your fingers 200 HARD WORDS. Shakspeare, whose acquirements must have been very limited, was, notwithstanding, a profound English linguist. What a just and thumb: give it breath with your mouth and it will discourse most elo- quentmusic : look you, these are the stops.’—‘ But these cannot I command to any utterance of harmony; I have not the skill,’ replies Guildenstern.—It is a small thing, the fiddle is a genuine Cremona and the warranted workmanship of Straduarius; every hand that draws a bow across it will produce every note unlike every other performer according to his skill in fingering, and the ‘music in his soul’—from the harsh scraping of some blind crowder in the streets to the tones of anguish or extacy which Paganini, with touches like the first beams of sunlight on the statue of Memnon, elicits from the strings ; or extorts when he strikes and they shriek as though he were putting live sufferers to the sword.”*_-What the pipe and the viol are to the min- strel, language is to the poet. With the thousand varied tones which the “ great masters of the art” have scattered with profusion before us—either in the sweet Eden of verse or the wide universe of prose—there are thou- sands of modulations yet unproduced. What great master shall next bring a few more of them forth with equal conspicuity. But why should a pri- vilege belong’ to an individual which is accessible to every one who can and will learn to appreciate its value. What is worth doing is worth doing well. Language is at once the rule of gradation in society, and which asserts its claim to equality ; and if all cannot create, all can acquire and apply; a word is the portraiture of thought, and like the offspring in whom we behold the features of the parent. No one, perhaps, possessed such a despotic sway over language as Byron, who multiplied thoughts by words which to him were the hieroglyphics of nature, and represented every object in the sound rather than in the thought. In the storm on the lake of Geneva he thus breaks out— “Sky, mountains, rivers, winds, lake, lightnings ! ye With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a soul To make these felt and feeling ;—the far roll Of your departing voices is the knell Of what in me is sleepless—if I rest. Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me—could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings strong or weak, Allthat I would have sought and all I seek, Bear, know, feel and yet breathe,—into one word— And that one word were lightning, I would speak ! But as itis I live and die unheard With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.” This multitude of words are individually personifications that crowd on each other with such a startling rapidity that they leave nothing distinctive in the mind but the charm of the sensation. With all his power of expression his * thought was voiceless,” and so will be the thoughts of others until they strike the chords with a master hand. Pygmalion long gazed on the marble before it suspired—moulded into beauty, it quickened into life. Language is the body and statue of thought, the wings of the soul; and while some ascend with an eagle’s flight, others pursue their middle and lower course. * Montgomery. HARD WORDS. 201 appropriation of sound to sense—so harmonious and yet so contrast- ed—to snatch from his Macbeth an unpremeditated passage, the soliloquy !— * This Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off.” How the tones rise and fall, subsiding into softness or rising into abrupt vehemence! ‘“ Faculties so meek !’’—What a faintness, fondness of expression! ‘Clear in his great office!’—What an extension of meaning this involves! rising to the climax “ His vir- tues will plead like angels trumpet-tongued!” The effect here is two-fold, first, by the comparison of his mild virtues with their powerful agency, that wil] plead like angels trumpet-tongued, with voice so clamorous ; and secondly, the vibration of the word trum- pet with the alliteration, which is very forcible ; those affections, so kind and tender, will cry out “ Against The deep damnation of his taking off: And pity, like a naked new-born babe, Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubin, hors’d Upon the sightless couriers of the air, Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, That tears shall drown the wind.” What a grandeur there is in the full diapason of this sentence, ** And pity, like a naked new-born babe,”* glancing with the velocity of light, with the wild vehemence of the blast. Shakspeare’s are indeed “ winged words.” The “rsa wretgosvru” of the Greeks is a noble expression ; they must have been finely sensible of verbal effect. ‘The Greek drama, especially the tragedies of Aischylus, are the verisimilitude of Shakspeare in the inflection, power, and variety of expression. * Not such a babe as Rubens painted, that looks cut out of a huge barm dumpling, thick and spongy; but like the Infant John of Murillo, whose form of life and loveliness is the emblem of every virtue consummate in in- nocence, every colour blending into one, unsullied and pure. Such was Shakspeare’s personification of pity, the tearful herald of grief. VOL. V.—NOo. XVIII. 2c 202 HARD WORDS. Let me pause a moment before the awful genius of Milton, “'That with no middle flight intends to soar Above the Ionian mount.” Though the subject be linked to our earliest and most sacred asso- ciations, though the cadence be majestic and the thoughts divine, the language is felt as peculiar and essential. James Montgomery, in his eloquent Lectures on Poetry, remarks—‘ Thus, nothing can be less adorned than the opening of Paradise Lost ; the cadence of the verse alone redeems the whole from being plain prose in the first six lines, but thenceforward it rises through every clause in energy and grandeur, till the reader feels himself carried away by the impetuosity of that adventurous song. In the proposition the language is colloquial, but, rising to the invocation of the Deity, how ponderous the tones become ! * Thou from the first Wast present, and with mighty wings outspread, Dove-like, sat’st brooding on the vast abyss, And mad’st it pregnant,” &c. Now let any man attempt to tell to another the subject of Mil- ton’s exordium; this he might do, and correctly enough, but it would be no more like Milton than “I to Hercules :” the word is the body to the thought, and cannot be separated without death. The eloquent Hazlitt says—‘‘ Words are the only things that last for ever.” ‘Nor is this merely a splendid saying,” writes Mont- gomery, “ or a startling paradox that may be qualified, by explana- tion, into common-place ; it is literally true.” Art and science de- cline in the succession of ages, and nothing remains but their verbal commemoration. “The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples,” like “the baseless fabric of a vision,” will ** leave not a wreck behind,” save the history of their existence. Such are words, born of, and co-existent with, time! By their magic inspiration immortality is given to truth, and though dead we still live in the perpetuity of our thoughts—the first, last sym- bol of the soul. Shall we look into Johnson, surnamed the Gralla- tore, Swift, Burke, Addison, Goldsmith— * Eloquent as is Apollo’s lute ;” or examine the immortal works of Taylor, Milton, Luther, that HARD WORDS. 203 ponderous soul, the eloquent Melancthon, the acute Erasmus, or the prose of the divine Petrarch, whose “ words are as deep waters,” wherein the concord of sound and sense are beautifully preserved. If we examine into the rise and progression of language, we shall find that words proceed from two sources ; first by creation— that is a reciprocity of sound with such as is created by external ob- jects, and which the Greeks termed ovoz«ro70e1a—onomatoprela—such as the words, crash, dash, hiss, grunt, grunnitus porcorum, tinnitus wis, OF worvPrdeBos baracor—the many sounding ocean—the sound being an echo to the meaning; and, secondly, derivatives from other languages in the universal Babel. Creation begins and al- most ceases with the origin of language—derivation perfects it. If we examine our own tongue, how much has it been enriched of late years by the appropriation of words originally applied to the sciences, but now become colloquial terms.* Thus every new word, especially if a synonyme, gives facility to our ideas, and with the immense advantage of variety of form, perhaps the most essential distinction in modern literature ; for, as our modern Horace justly remarks— “True wit is nature to advantage dress’d ; What oft was thought, but ne’er so well express’d. Verbal affluence depends less upon a knowledge of primary words than of compounds and synonyms. A very few sounds are adequate to express our mere wants, or even general ideas ; but to ring the changes of thoughts in its myriaded shades, its degrees and associa- tions, requires not only the full tone but its sixteenths.f In my frequent country ramblings, I have often amused myself with thus dallying with words—turning them into every possible change and inflection—and not unfrequently have been startled by the appari- tion of a thought at once pronounced from obscurity to light. I have pursued these configurations until the labour has been forgot- ten in the excitement, whilst thought rushed on thought without effort or solicitation, carried forward by successive propulsion, until my arteries have quickened, and my mind glowed with a new inspi- ration. The forms of things unknown are bodied forth in sounds ; and if the glory of thought be unequally possessed, clearness and perspicuity of style will add importance even to trifles. * As amalgamation, exacerbation, diathesis, disruption, plethoric, homoge- neous, &c. + It is related of the sublime Mozart that he could detect the sixteenth of a tone. 204 THE FISHES OF BRITAIN, Shall I say more in apology for ‘ hard words’—or what can be argued against me? If my Cesars oppose me, let them find safety in their accustomed obscurity, or, I fear me, their feeble pleadings, like the shades which opposed the progress of Ulysses—* decensus averni”’—will be too filmy to strike, and too helpless to be hurt- ful ; otherwise the evil will be perpetuated, and we shall soon be reduced to mere affirmation and negation—the “ affecting fanlasti- eoes” and “ pardonnez moi’s’’ of our contiguants—or, like the Turks, make more use of our hands than our tongues, and sacrifice our brains to a lower and more unworthy officer of the physical commonweal. Considering how repeatedly we use comparison in writing, and especially in conversation, to give variety and force to our thoughts and descriptions, an aptitude for antithesis is very important, thus opposing our words in their numerous shades ; as familiarity with- out coarseness, dignity without pride, sternness without cruelty, cheerfulness without frivolity, decision without stubbornness, sub- mission without servility, &c. By such contrasts our meaitiing is essentially defined, and our thoughts strongly expressed. I know of no book which would tend to improve our knowledge of lan- guage so much as a lexicon of antinonyms, wherein every suscepti- ble word should be contrasted with its opponent, and illustrated with quotations from ancient and modern authors. By this means we should acquire that facility in writing and speaking in which the generality of persons, even well educated, are now so remarka- bly deficient. PHILLOLOGOs. THE FISHES (PISCES) OF BRITAIN, SYSTEMATI. CALLY ARRANGED. Or the five classes into which vertebrated animals are divided, the four first, namely, beasts or mammals (mammalia), birds (aves), reptiles (reptilia), and amfibians* (amfbia), having * We do not ourselves countenance the changes, advocated by S. D. W., of ph into f, y into i, and the like. We cannot, therefore, admit these de- partures from all acknowledged authorities without enteriug our decided protest against such useless alterations.—Eps. SYSTEMATICALLY ARRANGED. 205 been already given in T'he Analyst, it only remains to supply the fifth ; and then the purchasers of this periodical will be in posses- sion of the completest and most correct (though far from being so correct as it should be) catalogue of the British vertebrata yet pub- lished. The catalogue of beasts and birds was drawn up by. the wuit- ter of this article, but that of the reptiles and amfibians by another hand. The author of the last mentioned paper (v. iv., p. 104) has, for some unexplained reason, not adhered to the rule by which I was guided in the nomenclature of the birds (see vol. iii., page 200), and which elicited his commendations, but has suffered his list to be deformedby some of those inconsistencies so rife among the Naturalists of the old school. The writer observes—‘“It is not my intention to attempt, in imitation of my very able and enterprizing predecessor, any sweep- ing plans of reform in the arrangement and nomenclature of the animals which constitute the subjects of my list.” But where are these very “ sweeping reforms” there mentioned? If it be true, as Mr. Swainson says, that ‘“ the principles of a good plan will be seen to greater advantage the more they are followed in detail,” why should our author object to the detail if he applauds the plan ? And, moreover, not above four or five alterations were required in the two classes given at page 105, which it would have been quite as easy, and much more advantageous, to have made than to have omitted. Our author says, at page 105—“< The writer to whom I have just adverted has, both in his catalogue of British birds and mam- malia (beasts), advanced many steps which he will find it, after all, necessary to retrace, and neglected almost as many others which might have been taken with equal safety and advantage.” How easy and convenient to make an off-hand assertion ! how hard, how troublesome, to be called on to prove it! Yet a reasoning being is no more to be satisfied with the former in place of the latter, than a hungry person would be content with a stone for bread or chaff for wheat. What are the steps too many thus condemned, may be gathered from some of the interesting reviews of the Birds of Eu- rope by the same writer. For instance, in vol. iv., page 275, he speaks unfavourably of Cuvier’s division, Budites (or Pecula) from Motacilla, but at the same time he has spared us the necessity of defending this procedure by saying that “ the peculiarity of struc- ture (of the Budites), although furnishing a good sub-generic, is not of sufficient weight to constitute alone a generic, character.” And pray what are the minimum divisions in the list spoken of 206 THE FISHES OF BRITAIN, (vol. iv., page 200) but sub-genera ?—so called, at least, by some } Swainson contends that the smallest divisions should be called sub- genera: I, however, coincide with the more widely spread and de- fensible plan of Selby, that genera should continue to be used in the same sense as heretofore, from the time of Ray to the present day, namely, as the smallest division, and that the next in rank (corresponding to the genera of Swainson’s Northern Zoology ) should be named Domus, which is between the section (sub-family of some) and the genus. At paye 279, vol. iv., our critic objects to, and gravely argues against, removing the Bearded Pinnoc ( Ca- lamofilus biarmicus) from the Tits (Parus)! The writer of the interesting article on British Oology in the last number—an arti- cle written in the true spirit of a Naturalist—has not condemned this error a whit too severely. It would be waste of time to argue the matter, but I may refer the writer to the highly instructive and pleasing article on the subject in Partington’s Cyclopedia of Natu- ral History. So much for the first charge, and till the second is supported by facts, it must be supposed to be as spurious as its twin brother. At the same time that I expose unfounded and thoughtlessly advanced charges, I shall be most happy to receive hints or suggestions of any kind, as expressed in a former paper. I have- but little doubt of the principle here advocated being ultimately triumphant, and it has already made its way into some of the peri- odicals, especially in the youngest and most promising of the tribe, The Naturalist. I have several corrections myself to make, as Surnia for Nictea, and Aluco for Surnia (see errata, vol. iv., page 350) ; glandarius for the Bee-eater was, of course, an oversight. Locustell is better than Brakehopper, which will do for Dumetella felivox,—the Cat Thrush of Latham. The best British name for the genus Si/via is WILLE’, an unexceptionable appellation. The Garden Willet (Silvia melodia, Blyth) is a familiar example. Siskin is preferable to Goldwing (see vol. iii., page 32). Mr. Blyth has proposed Alp for Coalhood (Pirula). Poppin is the name of a genus in the Parrot family ; so that the Crisoptilus may be called by the common name Yaffel. Selby, in his Pigeon family, page 170, satisfactorily proves the Cream-coloured Dove ( Peristera riso- ria.) to be the Turtle Dove mentioned in the, Bible ; and thus it appears the translators were not so careful as they should have been in matters of Natural History. The real Turtle Dove ( Peristera iurtur) is a British species, while the Cream-coloured Dove is a do- mesticated favourite of the ladies. SYSTEMATICALLY ARRANGED. 207 Before commencing the ichthyological catalogue, I may as well advert to the objection which the author has expressed to the term mammalogy. This term has been recommended by Mr. Swainson, and also, if I mistake not, in the Penny Cyclopedia ; and though certainly objectionable in many respects, I used it on a former occa- sion for convenience sake. It would naturally be supposed that the objector would be ready with one free from objections ; but what will the reader think of mastozoology ! Would not the term theriology be admissible? I think any objection that might be raised would be nullified by its advantages. I shall now, however, proceed to the catalogue, and if my paper is destitute of interest, that certainly cannot be from the dryness of the subjects of which it treats. CLASS V. Fisues.—PIsces. ORDER IL.—ACANTHOPTERIGII. Perce Faminty.—PeERcip&. Perch, (Perca, Lin.) Common Perch Perca fluviatilis, Zinn. Bass, (Labrax, Cuv. ) Common Bass Labrax lupus, Cuv. Serran, (Serranus, Cuv. ) Smooth Serran Serranus cabrilla, Cuv. Dusky Serran Serranus gigas, Cuv. Acerin, (Acerina, Cuv.) Common Acerin Acerina vulgaris, Cuv. Weever, (Trachinus, Cuv. ) Great Weever Trachinus draco, Linn. Little Weever Trachinus vipera, Cuv. Mullet, (Mullus, Linn. ) Striped Mullet Mullus vulgaris Red Mullet Mullus barbatus Gurnarp Famity.—-TRIGLIDA. Gurnard, (Trigla, Cuv. ) Pineleaved Gurnard Trigla pinitolia Streaked Gurnard Trigla lineata, Gmel. Safirine Gurnard Trigla hirundo, Bloch. Piper Gurnard - Trigla lyra, Linn. Gray Gurnard Trigla vulgaris Red Gurnard Trigla rubra 208 THE FISHES OF BRITAIN, Bullhead, (Cottus, Linn. ) River Bullhead Cottus gobio, Linn. Solitary Bullhead Cottus scorpius, Linn. Fourspined Bullhead Cottus bubalis, Cuv. Fourhorned Bullhead Cottus quadricornis, Linn. Aspidofory, (Aspidoforus, Lacép. ) Common Aspidofory Aspidoforus catafractus, Jen. Bergilt, (Sebastes, Cuv.) Northern Bergilt Sebastes norvegica, Cuv. Sharplin, (Gasterosteus, Cuv.) Threespined Sharplin Gasterosteus aculeatus, Linn. Fourspined Sharplin Gasterosteus spinulosus, Yarr. Tenspined Sharplin Gasterosteus pungitius, Linn. Stickleback, (Spinachia, Flem. ) Common Stickleback Spinachia vulgaris, Fem. Marcer Famity.—Scr&2niD&. Maiger, (Scizena, Cuv. ) Common Maiger Scizena vulgaris Umbrin, (Umbrina, Cuv.) Bearded Umbrin Umbrina vulgaris, Cuv. GiLtTHEAD Famity.—Sparip&. Gilthead, (Sparus, Cwv. ) Lunulated Gilthead Sparus aurata, Linn. Becker Gilthead Sparus pagrus, Linn. Spanish Gilthead Sparus erithrinus, Linn. Common Gilthead Sparus centrodontus, Lar. Dogtooth, (Dentex, Cuv.) Common Dogtooth Dentex vulgaris, Cuv. Canthar, (Cantharus, Cuv.) Black Canthar Cantharus griseus, Cuv. MackErREt Famity.—ScoMBERID&. Mackerel, (Scomber, Cuv. ) Common Mackerel Scomber vulgaris* Spotted Mackerel Scomber maculatus Tunny, (Thinnus, Cuv.) Common Tunny Thinnus vulgaris, Cuv. Striped Tunny Thinnus pelamis, Cuv. Zify, (Zifias, Linn. ) Common Zify Zifias gladius, Linn. Centronot, (Centronotus, Lacép. ) Common Centronot Centronotus ductor, Jen. Scad, (Caranx, Cuv. ) Common Scad Caranx trachurus, Lac. * This is named by Jenyns “ Scomber Scomber!” ‘This beats even the Fringilla monti-Fringilla, of Linneus. SYSTEMATICALLY ARRANGED. Dory, (Zeus, Linn. ) Common Dory Zeus faber, Linn. Hog Dory Zeus aper, Linn. Oper, (Lampris, Retz. ) Spotted Oper Lampris luna, Flem. Corifen, (Corifeena, Linn.) Black Corifen Corifzena morio ScaLEroot Famity.—LeEPiIDOPIDA. Serrated Scalefoot Lepidopus argireus, Cuv. Hairtail, (Trichiurus, Linn. ) Silvery Hairtail Trichiurus lepturus, Linn. Conin, (Gymnetrus, Bi.) Common Conin Gimnetrus arcticus Cepol, (Cepola, Linn. ) Red Cepol Cepola rubescens, Linn. Muvert Famity.—Muvcitip. Mugil, (Mugil, Linn. ) Gray Mugil Mugil capito, Cuv. Thicklipped Mugil Mugil chelo, Cuv. Short Mugil Mugil curtus, Yarr. Atherine, (Atherina, Linn. ) Common Atherine Atherina presbiter, Cuv. Gosy Famity.—GoBIAD&. Blenny, (Blennius, Linn. ) Ocellated Blenny Blennius ocellaris, Bloch. Gattoruginous Blenny Blennius gattorugine, Mont. Crested Blenny Blennius palmicornis, Cuv. Montagu Blenny Blennius galerita, Mont. Smooth Blenny Blennius folis, Linn. Gunnel, (Gunnellus, Flem. ) Spotted Gunnel Gunnellus maculatus Tanglake, (Zoarces, Cuv.) Viviparus Tanglake Zoarces viviparus, Cuv. Anaric, (Anarrhichas, Linn. ) Ravenous Anaric Anarrhichas lupus, Linn. Goby, (Gobius, Linn.) Black Goby Gobius niger, Linn. Two-spotted Goby j Gobius bipunctatus, Varr. Spotted Goby Gobius minutus, Pall. Slender Goby Gobius gracilis, Jen. Dragonet, (Callionimus, Linn.) Gemmeous Dragonet Callionimus lira, Linn. Sordid Dragonet Callionimus dracunculus, Linn. ANGLER Famity.—Lorip. Angler, (Lofius, Linn. ) Common Angler Lofius vulgaris VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2p 210 THE FISHES OF BRITAIN, Ras* Faminy.—Laprip&. Ballan Ras Labrus maculatus, Bloch. Streaked Ras Labrus lineatus, Don. Little Ras Labrus pusillus, Jen. Striped Ras Labrus variegatus, Gmel. Trimaculated Ras Labrus trimaculatus, Gmel. Rainbow Ras Labrus julis, Zinn. Ancient Ras Labrus tinca, Linn. Goldfinny Ras Labrus cornubicus, Gmel. Gibbous Ras Labrus gibbus, Gmel. Scale-rayed Ras Labrus luscus, Linn. Fistutar Famtty.—FistTuLarRip&. Longsnout, (Centriscus, Linn. ) Common Longsnout Centriscus vulgaris. ORDER II.—MALACOPTERIGII. Carp Famity.—CarriaD&. Carp, (Carpio, Antig. ) Gibel Carp Carpio carassius Golden Carp Carpio auratus Common Carp Carpio vulgaris Barbel, (Barbus, Cuv. ) Common Barbel Barbus vulgaris, FJem. Gudgeon, (Gobio, Cuv.) Common Gudgeon Gobio fluviatilis Tench, (Tinca, Cwv. ) Common Tench Tinca vulgaris, Flem. Bream,—Brama. Yellow Bream Brama vulgaris White Bream Brama blicca, Bloch. Roach, (Leuciscus, Kein, ) Common Roach Leuciscus rutilus, Flem. Dobule Roach Leuciscus dobula Dace Roach Leuciscus vulgaris, lem. Graining Roach Leuciscus lancastriensis, Yarr. Chub Roach Leuciscus cefalus, Flem. Redeye Roach Leuciscus erithrofthalmus Azurine Roach Leuciscus coeruleus, Jen. Bleak Roach Leuciscus alburnus, Flem. © Minnow Roach Leuciscus foxinus, Flem. Loach, (Cobitis, Linn. ) Bearded Loach Cobitis barbatula, Linn. Spined Loach Cobitis teenia, Linn. _ Pixe Famity.—Esocsip2. Common Pike Esox lucius, Linn. Gar, (Belone, Cuv.) Common Gar Belone vulgaris, Flem. * We conclude Wrasse is here meant by the author —Eps. SYSTEMATICALLY ARRANGED. 211 Saury,—Saurus. Common Saury Saurus vulgaris Exoccetus, (Exoccetus, Linn. ) Common Exoccetus Exoceetus vulgaris Situr Famiry.—SiLurip2. Silur, (Silurus, Art. ) Sly Silur Silurus glanis, Linn. Satmon Famity.—SaLMONID&. Salmon, (Salmo, Linn. ) Common Salmon Salmo vulgaris Bull Salmon Salmo ceiox, Linn. Trout Salmon Salmo trutta, Linn. River Salmon Salmo fario, Linn. Voracious Salmon Salmo ferox, Jard. Little Salmon Salmo pusillus Char Salmon Salmo umbla, Linn. Torgoc Salmon Salmo salvelinus, Don. Smelt, (Osmerus, Art. ) Common Smelt Osmerus eperlanus, Flem. Graylin, (Thimallus, Cuv. ) Common Graylin Thimallus vulgaris, Nils. Gwiniad, (Coregonus, Cuv. ) Common Gwiniad Coregonus lavaretus, Flem. Pollan Gwiniad Coregonous pollan Vendace Gwiniad Coregonus marzenula Herrine Famity.—CLureEip2z. Herring, (Clupea, Linn. ) Common Herring Clupea vulgaris Leach Herring Clupea leachii, Yarr. Sprat Herring Clupea sprattus, Bloch. White Herring Clupea alba, Yarr. Pilchard Herring Clupea pilchardus, Bi. Shad Herring Clupea finta, Cuv. Allis Herring Clupea alosa, Cuv. Anchovy, (Engraulis, Cuv. ) Common Anchovy Engraulis encrasicolus, Fem. Cop Famitry—Gapipz. Cod, (Gadus, Linn. ). Common Cod Gadus morhua, Cuv. Haddoc Cod Gadus eglefinus, Linn. Bib Cod Gadus luscus, Linn. Little Cod . Gadus minutus, Linn. Whiting, (Merlangus, Cuv. ) Common Whiting Merlangus vulgaris, Flem. Pollac Whiting Merlangus pollachius Coal Whiting Merlangus carbo, F'lem. 212 THE FISHES OF BRITAIN Hake, (Merluccius, Cuv.) Commen Hake : Merlucius vulgaris, F'lem. Ling, (Lota, Cuv.) Common Ling Lota molva, Cuv. Burbot Ling Lota vulgaris, Cuv. Rocklin, (Motella, Cuw. ) Threebearded Rocklin Motella tricirrata, Nils. Fivebearded Rocklin Motella mustela, Nils. Common Rocklin Motella glauca, Jen. Torsc, (Brosmus, Flem. ) Common Torse Brosmus vulgaris, FJem. Forkbeard, (Ficis, Art. ) Common Forkbeard Ficis vulgaris Raniceps, (Raniceps, Cuv. ) Trifurcated Raniceps Raniceps trifurcatus, Flem. Tursot Famity—PLirvuRONECTID#. Plaice, (Platessa, Cuv.) Common Plaice Platessa vulgaris, F'lem. Flounder Plaice ; Platessa flesus, Flem. Dab Plaice Platessa limanda, Flem. Lemon Plaice Platessa microcefala, Flem. Pole Plaice Platessa pola, Cuv. Sandnecker Plaice Platessa limandoides, Jen. Holibut, (Hippoglossus, Cuv. ) Common Holibut Hippoglossus vulgaris, Fem. Turbot, (Pleuronectes, Fem.) Greatest Turbot Pleuronectes maximus, Linn. Brill Turbot Pleuronectes rhombus, Linn. Topknot Turbot Pleuronectes punctatus, Bi. Muller Turbot Pleuronectes hirtus, Mull. Whiff Turbot Pleuronectes megastoma, Don. Scald Turbot Pleuronectes arnoglossus, Fem. Sole, (Solea, Cuv. ) Common Sole Solea vulgaris, Flem. Lemon Sole Solea pegusa, Yarr. Redbacked Sole Solea lingula, Jen. Lumry Famiry—CicLopTeriD&z. Sucker, (Lepadogaster, Gouan. ) Cornish Sucker Lepadogaster cornubiensis Bimaculated Sucker Lepadogaster bimaculatus Lumpy, (Ciclopterus, Linn. ) Common Lumpy Ciclopterus vulgaris Lipary, (Liparis, Art. ) Common Lipary Liparis vulgaris Montagu Lipary Liparis Montagui, Don. Remory Famiry—EcueEnNEIDID&. Remory, (Echeneis, Linn. ) Common Remory Echeneis vulgaris SYSTEMATICALLY ARRANGED. Mvren Famiry—Mur&ANIDz. Fel, (Anguilla, Cuv.) Sharpnosed Eel Anguilla acutirostris, Yarr. Broadnosed Eel Anguilla latirostris, Yarr. Snig Eel Anguilla mediorostris, Yarr. Conger, (Conger, Cuv. ) Common Conger Conger vulgaris, Cuv. Muren, (Mureena, Thunb.) Common Muren Mureena helena, Linn. Morris, (Leptocefalus, Gron. ) Common Morris Leptocefalus vulgaris Ofidy, (Ofidium, Linn. ) Beardless Ofidy Ofidium imberbe, Mont. Launs, (Ammodites, Linn. ) Widemouthed Launs Ammodites tobianus, Bl. Smallmouthed Launs Ammodites vulgaris TusEmMoutTH Faminry—Si1nGNATHID&. Tubemouth (Singnathus) Great Tubemouth Singnathus acus, Linn. Lesser Tubemouth Singnathus tifle, Linn. Equoreal Tubemouth Singnathus zequoreus, Linn. Snake Tubemouth Singnathus ofidion, Bi. Worm Tubemouth Singnathus lumbriciformis, Jen. Hippocamp, (Hippocampus, Cuv. ) Shortnosed Hippocamp Hippocampus brevirostris, Cuv. ORDER IV.—GIMNODONTES. TETRODON Famity—TETRODONID. Tetrodon, (Tetrodon, Linn. ) Stellated Tetrodon Tetrodon stellatus, Don. Orthagorise, (Orthagoriscus, Sehn. ) Short Orthagorise Orthagoriscus mola, Cuv. Long Orthagorise Orthagoriscus oblongus, Cuv. ORDER V.—SCLERODERMI. Batist Famity—BatisTip&. Balist, (Balistes, Cuv. ) Mediterranean Balist Balistes capriscus, Gmel. ORDER VIL—~ELEUTHEROPOMI. SturGreon Faminry—Sruriap. Sturgeon, (Sturio, Will.) Common Sturgeon Sturio vulgaris 213 214 THE FISHES OF BRITAIN ORDER VIIL—ACANTHORRHINI. LonenosEt Famity—CuimMa&RID&. Longnose, (Chimeera, Linn. ) Northern Longnose Chimeera borealis ORDER VIII.—PLAGIOSTOMI. SauaLE Famity—SQuaLip&. Squale, (Squalus, Linn. ) Speckled Squale Squalus canicula, Linn. Spotted Squale Squalus stellaris, Linn. Shark, (Carcharias, Cuv. ) White Shark Carcharias vulgaris, Flem Thresher Shark Carcharias vulpes, Gmel. Blue Shark Carcharias glaucus, Linn. Porbeagle Shark Carcharias cornubicus, Gmel. Beaumaris Shark Carcharias monensis, Shaw Tope, (Galeus, Cuv.) Common Tope Galeus vulgaris, Flem. Speckled Tope Galeus mustelus, Leach Selache, (Selachus, Cuv.) Basking Selache Selachus maximus, Cuv. Spinax, (Spinax, Cuv. ) Picked Spinax Spinax acanthias, Linn. Scimny, (Scimnus, Cuv. ) Greenland Scimny Scimnus borealis, Scor. Zigen, (Zigeena, Cuv. ) Common Zigen Zigzena malleus, Val. Squatin, (Squatina, Dum. ) Angel Squatin Squatina angelus, Cuv. Ray Famiry—Raiapz. Ray, (Raia, Linn. ) Skate Ray Raia batis, Cuv. Sharpnosed Ray Raia oxirhinchus, Linn. Bordered Ray Raia marginata, Lac. Shagreen Ray Raia chagrinea, Mont. Spotted Ray Raia maculata, Mont. Smalleyed Ray Raia microcellata, Mont. Thornback Ray Raia clavata, Linn. Starry Ray Raia radiata, Don. Sting Ray Raia pastinaca, Linn. ORDER IX.—CICLOSTOMI. Lamrrey Famity—PETROMIZID&. Lamprey, (Petromizon) Sea Lamprey Petromizon marinus, Linn. River Lamprey Petromizon fluviatilis Planer Lamprey Petromizon planeri SYSTEMATICALLY ARRANGED. 215 Sandpride, (Ammocetes, Dum. ) Common Sandpride Ammocetes branchialis, Fem. Micsin, (Mixine, Linn. ) Glutinous Micsin Mixine glutinosa, Linn. Lancelet (Amfioxus, Yarr. ) Common Lancelet Amfioxus vulgaris. All the larger divisions here are from Yarrell’s truly beautiful work on British Ichthyology; and a glance will suffice to show in what need they stand of revision. I have, however, made some approach to exactitude in nomenclature, and have not given up all attempts at correctness because perfection was at first unattainable. Indeed, the space taken up by the catalogue would have been lost, and worse than lost, if it had been a mere transcript of the com- monly-received lists ; for it is better to remain in ignorance than to be led into error. I have lately seen some passages of Swain- son on nomenclature, which he should have been the last to have written: and, doubtless, he will be heartily ashamed of them ere long. The public has, on several memorable occasions, lately shown itself superior to the weakness of being led away by a great name from the paths of truth ; indeed it is now arriving at years of dis- cretion, and will no longer suffer itself to be drawn into the bog of error by every one who pretends to superior wisdom. | Ss. D. W. October 15, 1836. [This is certainly a most laudable attempt at a correct nomenclature of British Fishes. We, in general, approve of the names adopted; but fear that some of them will be found too uncouth by lovers of the euphonious. However, we are glad the attempt has been made, especially as such appel- lations as are objected to can easily be altered at any time. We wish that our Correspondent could be ashamed out of the absurd mode of spell- ing he has thought fit to employ; as we feel convinced that this trifling will deter many from adopting his really useful alterations.—Eps. ] 216 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. BY LANGSTON PARKER, ESQ. V.—ON THE HALLUCINATIONS PRODUCED BY THE IMAGINATION. Our present lecture relates to a mood of the Imagination distinct from the three we have noticed in the previous discourses. Hal- lucination is mistaken or diseased perception. It is the seeming presence of that which does not really exist to the senses of a wak- ing man. It may extend to all the organs through which we de- rive ideas of the nature of things, but those of hearing and sight are most commonly affected, and of these two most frequently the latter. The Imagination derives all the materials from which it compounds its extraordinary scenes from the sense of vision. Sight is the most active, the most varied, and the most useful of all the bodily senses ; most extended in its relations, and from which the mind derives by far the greater part of its ideas. It has to do merely with the surfaces of bodies, with their form, size, and co- lour ; it is liable to misconception of these properties from many causes—from distance, from the state of the atmosphere, and from imperfection in the structure or functions of the eye itself. From these multiplied sources are produced a variety of mistaken percep- tions, termed optical illusions; and from a number of causes of a similar character the ear is misled, and conveys a mistaken and false account to the brain. If these illusions be extended to the other senses, of course they derange the operations of the mind with regard to those properties of bodies which it is exclusively the destiny of such sense to ascertain. But these are not hallucinations, properly so called; it is true they convey erroneous ideas, and therefore may, in some measure, merit the term: but it is, as far as I am acquainted with medical or philosophical language, and the ap- plication of that language, exclusively applied to those illusions where no physical agent is concerned in their production. As the senses furnish the mind exclusively with all its ideas, and as this is dependent for their truth upon the fidelity of its servants, so does the mind by a reciprocal action, and by a mysterious property in- herent in itself, direct the actions of the senses, and enable them to AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 217 judge truly and correctly.* As long as the mind remains perfectly sound, and its three great powers bear a strict and healthy relation to each other, the actions of the senses will be correct, and the ideas they furnish consonant to the order and perfection of nature, But when the faculties of the mind become unduly exalted, or the reciprocity of these actions destroyed—whether, as we have before seen, from disease of body or disorder affecting the mind in the abstract—a false action will be given to one or more of the senses, and hallucination will take place. From this view it will at once be seen that hallucinations will be most common in persons whose minds are totally deranged, in those labouring under the various forms of melancholy or mania; and this is actually the case, scarcely any form of insanity being totally devoid of hallucination of one or more of the senses. Hallucination may be confined to one sense, as monomania is limited to one series of ideas; the eye may be false whilst the ear remains true, the taste may be decep- tive whilst the touch accurately informs of all the properties its functions permit it to ascertain, It is commonly the case that hal. lucination, as affecting one or more senses, bears a correspondent relation to that state of mind which produces the affection in the first instance ; thus, the maniac will be deceived by the actions of every sense, while the hallucinations of the monomaniac will be confined to one. A very remarkable instance of this is related in a recent publication, and though probably well known, it illustrates so clearly this point, and throws so much light on the theory I have just promulgated, that I do not think it necessary to resort to works less known for an example, since I know not where I could find one so suitable and so authentic. It was not originally related to illustrate a point of similar character to that to which I am about to * Hallucinations, according to Esquirol, are images produced by memory, and associated by imagination. Foville, with more truth, considers them entirely as the product of a morbid imagination, which gives reality to the ideas existing in the mind; i. ¢., the mind presents its ideas to the senses in a form which calls into action the functions of that sense to which the hallu- cination is addressed. 'Thus, the mind calls up the idea of a form which the eye beholcds, it conceives of sounds which the ear detects, yet which have no existence. A priest, a man of strong mind and good education, was subject to hallucinations of the ear; he heard voices which continually threatened him. Being reasoned with upon his affection, and the nature of depraved sensation and false perception being explained to him, he constantly replied —‘T ought then to doubt what you say to me and what I see; for the sounds which appear to you to have no existence, appear to me as certainly to be real as anything else which I see or hear around me.” VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2 218 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL apply it. A person confined for that form of mental derangement which we considered in the last lecture as amenomania, or gay me- lancholy, fancied the asylum in which he was confined his own, and he contrived to account for all that seemed inconsistent with his imaginary right of property. There were many patients in it, but that was owing to the benevolence of his nature, which made him love to see the relief of distress. He went little, or rather never, abroad, but then his habits were of a domestic and rather sedentary character. He did not see much company, but he daily received visits from the first characters in the renowned medical school of the city, and he could not, therefore, be much in want of society. With so many supposed comforts around him—with so many visions of wealth and splendour—one thing alone disturbed the peace of the poor optimist, and would, indeed, have confounded most “ bons vivans.” ‘He was curious,” he said, ‘‘in his table, choice in his selection of cooks, had every day three regular courses and a dessert ; and yet, somehow or other, everything he ate tasted of porridge. This dilemma could be no great wonder to the friend to whom it was related, who knew that the poor lunatic ate no- thing but this simple aliment at any of his meals.’* His eyes were made the fools of his other senses, spreading before his delud- ed vision a splendid banquet, whilst the taste remained true to nature, and spoiled all his ideal dainties by not taking part in the deception. There are certain states of mind in which we are carried, in our ideas, beyond the ordinary routine of thought and the influence of customary impression. This may arise from many sources—it may be caused by certain medicinal or morbid agents, as opium, nitrous oxide, and febrile miasma. But that to which I now allude is not produced by any of these ; it is a condition of mind the consequence of great excitement, when, on the eve of some great enterprise— of some literary undertaking—about the success of which we are uncertain, the senses, though wandering over the forms of out- ward objects, take little cognizance of their presence. The mind, at these periods, throws no part of its being into the actions of the senses; they are inert and powerless. The whole mental faculties are concentrated about the one great object of our anxiety. There are many persons in whom this state of mental concentration is habitual. When alone, from the activity and vigour of their fancies, some novel idea soon intrudes, becomes cherished and isolated. * Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft, by Sir W. Scott. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 219 They create, and are charmed with the productions of their power, and are so lost in admiration of the beauties of their mental visions, or so occupied in their arrangement, that they lose all controul over their senses, which thus become liable to hallucination. When the mind is exclusively concentrated on one absorbing desire or fear, hallucination frequently takes place, and relates directly to some thing connected with the ideas upon which the mind is occupied. Of this character was the appearance of the ghost of Cesar to Bru- tus, on the eve of the battle of Pharsalia. Here we see intense occupation upon one subject, from which the mind had acquired a high degree of excitement, exalting the Imagi- nation to the highest degree of which it is capable—that of giving form and colour to its productions, and stamping upon its waking delusions all the vividness of the fancies of our dreams. There is a strict analogy between the vision of the waking and sleeping states ; since blind persons are as liable to hallucination, or rather to the appearance of visions, as those whose sight is unimpaired. This at once proves that the hallucination is not caused by an actual im- pression upon the sensitive organs, but by a creation of the Imagi- nation presented to the sense of vision.* No one believes that they actually see the scenes which are presented to them in dreams. The illusions of wakefulness are precisely of the same character, though, perhaps, dependent upon a more exalted or active state of the Imagination than that which produces the incongruities of the illusions of our sleep. There was in Paris, in 1816, a blind Jew, whose visions were of the most extraordinary character. There were likewise two deaf women who continually heard persons ad- dressing them, and held disputes with them incessantly, both day and night. The habitual activity and concentration of some minds produces constant hallucination. The case of Cardan, professor of athematics at Milan in 180], is a remarkable instance of this. *‘ T descried,” says he, ‘‘ the shapes of castles, of houses, of animals, of horses with their riders, of herbs, of hills, of musical instruments, of the different features of men, and of their different garments. * Tt will be recollected that in my first lecture I traced the influence of solitude upon the Imagination, and we found it to be a powerful exciting cause to the activity of this faculty of the mind. The same remark applies to hallucinations, which are always more frequent in solitude, in silence, and in darkness, than at other times. The impressions upon the senses made by surrounding objects are, in these situations, weakened; the mind retires, as it were, upon itself, and in its seclusion creates visions which only deceive the judgment. 220 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL Trumpeters appeared to blow their trumpets, but no sound was heard. I saw besides soldiers, people, and the forms of bodies even to this day unknown to me, groves and woods, some things of which I have no remembrance, and a mass of many objects rushing in toge- ther, yet not with marks of confusion, but of taste.” Similar to this were the narrations of Blake, the painter, who saw fairies’ fu- nerals when he walked in groves or gardens, painted the ghosts of fleas in his bed-chamber, and conversed with the shades of Homer and Hesiod, Fingal, Tasso, and Milton, in the mists of twilight, on the sands and shingles of the sea shore. These instances of hal- lucination appear to be dependent upon occasional or habitual men- tal excitement, operating in the manner I have described. The mind may be wrought to its highest pitch of agitation from feel- ings partaking of a still more intense character, such as produced the vision of the dagger to Macbeth. There the fear of detection— the workings of a -heart as yet not quite sealed in guilt—the ap- prehension of failure, or detection for the murder of Duncan—and the dazzling hopes which glimmered in the distance in case of suc- cess ; the crown, the throne, power, and dominion with all its at- tendant honour, lent their combined influence to work the mind into a state of excitement which sanity could hardly equal. Mac- beth’s vision of the dagger is a perfect illustration of the nature of these hallucinations, and his remarks upon it at once shew us that he was aware that his excited state of mind had produced it. Thus— “ Art thou not, fatal vision, ‘sensible To feeling as to sight ? or art thou but A dagger of the mind, a false creation Springing from the heat-oppressed brain ?” There is, again, a particular state of mental excitement produced ina mind which is occasionally the subject of aberration, upon the verge of which it stands without having actually thrown off the trammels of reason. It is, perhaps, superior in intensity to the last ; the feeble impressions conveyed to the mind by the senses are followed by ideas of the most vivid and exalted kind. Dr. Hib- bert, in the zeal of metaphysical labour, has set himself to calculate mathematically the direct and inverse proportion between sensations and ideas, and the hallucinations which may be naturally expected to follow from these states. His attempt is ingenious, but false and unsatisfactory ; it is splitting hairs, and calculating with precision AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 221 the size of their angles—it is trammelling immaterial mind with the gross fetters of material agents—it is looking for the phenomena of mind in metaphysics, without taking the workings of the former -as the base of all the data of the most bewildering and falsest of sciences. “ When I turn over the pages of the metaphysician, I perceive a science that deals in words instead of facts, Arbitrary axioms lead to results that violate reason ; imaginary principles establish systems that contradict the common sense of mankind. All is dogma, no part is demonstration, Wearied, perplexed, doubtful, I throw down the volume in disgust. It is from this cause that we are the slaves of false knowledge ; our imaginations being filled with ideas that have no origin in truth, We learn nothing from ourselves. The sum of our experience is but a dim dream of the conduct of past generations that lived in a total igno- rance of the real nature of the objects which surrounded them, and of the laws by which they were governed. Our instructors are the unknowing and the dead. We study human nature in a charnel house, and, like the nations of the east, pay divine honours to the maniac and the fool.”* A series of systems have mystified existence, have clogged the simple and beautiful operations of nature with a thick and filthy colour, which has deformed and concealed her truths. We believe what our fathers credited, whilst they were convinced without a cause. They took an idea for a reality, were prevented, from popular superstition or ridiculous enactment, both civil and religious, from examining that which they were required to take upon record, and believe because the clond of fanatics that preceded them had pronounced it true. In this remark I refer solely to the mistaken systems which have been formed to explain the various -operations of nature, whether they regard the laws of mind or mat- ter. The hallucinations of the senses have, perhaps, given birth to the most numerous and monstrous absurdities that have ever de- formed the page of science, I have referred to some of these points in previous lectures, and therefore shall pass over them now, choos- ing rather to speak of the true which is, than of the false which has been. ‘To return to the hallucinations of that state of excitation of the mind which borders upon mania. It is well known that the most vivid dreams attend commonly the approach to insanity, and so perfectly deceptive are they that persons cannot shake from their minds a conviction of their reality. This state of mind lJike- wise occurs in the same persons during the waking state. Their * D’Israeli. 222 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL vivid imaginations give to airy nothing not only a local habitation and a name, but all the attributes which physically characterize matter generally ; as form, colour, feature, deformity, and beauty. Two examples of this state of mind producing hallucination occur to me; they are in the cases of Hamlet and Tasso. At Bisaccio, near Naples, Manso had an opportunity of examining the singular effect of Tasso’s melancholy, and often disputed with him concerning a familiar spirit which he pretended conversed with him. Manso endeavoured, in vain, to persuade him that the whole was the illu- sion of a disturbed imagination ; but the latter was strenuous, in maintaining the reality of what he asserted, and, to convince Manso, desired him to be present at one of the mysterious conversations. Manso had the complaisance to meet him next day, and whilst they were engaged in discourse, he observed Tasso to fix his eyes on a window, and remain immoveable; he called him by his name but received no answer: at last Tasso cried out ‘ There is the friendly spirit that is come to converse with me; look! and you will be convinced of the truth of what I have said.’ Manso heard him with surprise ; he looked, but beheld nothing but the sunbeams darting through the window ; he cast his eyes over the room but could see only its customary occupants, and was just going to ask where the friendly spirit was, when he heard Tasso speak with great earnestness, sometimes putting questions to the spirit, some- times giving answers ; delivering the whole in such a pleasing man- ner, and in such elevated expressions, that he listened with admi- ration, and had not the least inclination to interrupt him. At last, this ghostly conversation ended with the departure of the spirit, as appeared by Tasso’s own words, who, turning to Manso, asked him if his doubts were removed. Manso was more amazed than ever ; he scarce knew what to think of his friend’s situation, and waived any further conversation on the subject.* The history of Tasso is well known to all, and those who are familiar with the effusions of his fine genius, and ardent imagina- tion, with the workings of a mind peculiarly alive to the tenderest sympathies and the nicest varieties of feeling, can judge of the tor- ture of a mind thus constituted, and confined in a dreary cell, upon whose solitude broke no light except that of the dim and distant sun-beam, and upon whose silence no sound intruded save the rav- ings of the maniac, and the ideal voice of his attendant spirit. Tasso was not insane, and, comparing himself with the lunatics confined * Hibbert, On Apparitions. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 923 around him, he states “that none had seen him writhe or heard him rave ;” he continues— “Yet do I feel at times my mind decline But with a sense of its decay : I see Unwonted lights along my prison shine, And a strange demon who is vexing me With pilfering pranks and petty pains, below The feeling of the healthful and the free ; But much to one, who long hath suffered so, Sickness of heart, and narrowness of place, And all that may be borne, or can debase. I thought mine enemies had been but man, But spirits may be leagued with them—all earth Abandons—Heaven forgets me—in the dearth Of such defence the powers of evil can, It may be, tempt me further, and prevail Against the outworn creature they assail.* The state of mind to which I have alluded has been still better illustrated by Shakspeare. The ghost of Hamlet’s father must have been, in the scene where Hamlet is taxing his mother with her guilt, a creation of his own fancy, since we find it invisible to her, though it was visible to Horatio and his companions in the earlier scenes of the play. And this seems to have been the inten- tion of the poet, to shew how a mind inordinately excited, in a tem- perament liable to wander, could produce phantoms which appeared real. He has placed his hero in this scene in a state of violent ex- citement, but has not made him mad. Thus his mother addresses him, when he points to the ghost of his father :— “This is the very coinage of your brain : This bodiless creation ecstasy Is very cunning in.” He answers “ Kestacy ! My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have uttered: bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word ; which madness Would gambol from.” * The Lament of Tasso. 924 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL The intimate knowledge which this greatest of poets possessed of the phenomena of mind in all its various complexions, characters; and bearings, is truly wonderful. Hamlet disproves his insanity, though believing in the presence of his vision, from the only two causes which could possibly have produced or continued it, viz., disease of body or disorder of mind. And it is singular that the latter test given by Hamlet should have passed unnoticed so long in inquiries into the existence or non-existence of mental sanity. Sir H. Halford, by chance, determined to rely upon it in a case which was extremely doubtful, which, if the gentleman had been treated as sane, and suffered to make his will accordingly, would have involved the physicians in much litigation, and have been productive of a series of unpleasant consequences. It is sufficient to state that Shakspeare’s test was correct ; the gentleman did not re-word what he had before said, and immediately fell into a state of incurable mania. Thus does literature furnish her mite to the advancement of medical knowledge, and I cannot conceive any man to be less acquainted with the features of disease, especially those of a mental kind, who has devoted part of his time to literary attain. ment. ‘The dramatic poets particularly, of all countries, have been extremely successful in the delineation of the human passions; they have shewn us mind in all its workings, they have given histories of its various constitutions, and have shewn the manner in which its different predispositions are likely to terminate. I illustrated this point to some extent in my lecture on the Imagination of the Insane. I mention this because I have no doubt that many persons suppose literature of a general character to be a pursuit utterly at variance with all medical attainment. Were this the place for such digression, I think many instances might be adduced, and numerous examples brought forward to prove that they commonly move hand in hand. Need I mention Darwin, Mead, Baillie, John Bell, Beddoes, Sir H. Halford, Abernethy, and others? It is probable that the narrations of the poet and novelist are, in many instances, taken from actual occurrences, which, from the imperfect state and the limited study of medicine in the earlier eras of its history, would otherwise have passed unnoticed. If this were not the case, the knowledge of many of them must have been intuitive. If Le Sage had not heard of or witnessed a case of disorder and death from the sup- position that a person was constantly haunted by a spectre, how are we to account for his history of the case of the Duke d’Olivarez, who fell a victim to an imaginative affection of this nature? To one of two causes only can it be attributed—the one which I have men- AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 225 tioned, or so intimate a knowledge of the nature of the Imagination as to foresee that, in certain conditions, it must produce illusions of this character, though none had fallen under his own observation. If this latter were the case, how correct a metaphysician must the novelist have been; since we find in the Letters on Demonology and Witchcraft a narration so similar in all its points, that one appears a counterpart of the other. The causes of hallucination which I have enumerated, are de- pendant altogether, as we have seen, upon morbid states of the mind ; our next division includes those which are the result of diseased conditions of body. ‘These morbid states are so extremely variable, and so numerous, that it would require many lectures to illustrate, even in a general manner, the relations of those conditions of body and mind, which are likely to be attended by hallucinations of the senses. There is one remark, however, which will apply generally to all these, namely, that hallucination never takes place (except where the organs of sense and perception, the brain and senses are the subjects of complaint) without powerful predisposition in the constitution of the mind, which might have produced hallucinations from moral causes, without the occurrence of bodily complaint. This predisposition to hallucination may be almost exclusively limited to persons of extreme nervous irritability, to those whose profession or occupation favours the development of the functions of the mind at the expense of those of the body ; these are chiefly, as we saw in the last lecture when speaking of the predisposition to mania, divines, poets, metaphysicians, and literary or sedentary per- sons in general. ‘The case of Nicolai naturally occurs to us here. Before entering into the detail of one of the most remarkable cases on record, I wish to say that the previous state of Nicolai’s mind was one of naturally great power ; he was highly imaginative, took great pleasure in inventing ideal scenes and mental pictures—com- posed on his bed novels, dramas, and fictions of all kinds, and was most happy when he threw the reins from his guidance, and left his fancy to wander unrestrained through the flowery meads of the lighter branches of literature. In addition to this predisposed condition of mind, he had been greatly excited by a concurrence of unpleasant circumstances, which had been followed by violent mental excite- ment, and were enough in themselves to have produced hallucina- tions of the senses in a character of his temperament. Further, he had neglected his usual periodical blood-letting, which had produced some indisposition of body, the particulars of which it is not neces- sary here to mention. “ Ona sudden,” writes he, ‘ whilst reclining VOL. V.—No. XVIII. 2r 926 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL on the sofa, I perceived, at about the distance of ten steps, a form like that of a deceased person. I pointed to it and asked my wife if she did not see it? It was but natural that she should not see any- thing ; my question, therefore, alarmed her very much, and she im- mediately sent for a physician. The phantasm continued about eight minutes and then disappeared. At four in the afternoon, the form which T had seen in the morning re-appeared. I was by my- self when this happened, and being rather uneasy at the incident, went to my wife’s apartment, but there also was followed by the apparition, which, however, at intervals disappeared. About six o'clock there appeared also several walking figures, which had no connection with the first. After the first day the form of the de- ceased person no more appeared, but its place was supplied with many other phantoms, sometimes representing acquaintances, but mostly strangers ; those whom I knew were composed of living and deceased persons, but the number of the latter was comparatively small. The phantoms seemed equally clear and distinct at all times and under all circumstances, when I was by myself and when I was in company, as well in the day as in the night, in my own house as well as abroad ; they were, however, less frequent when I wasin the house of a friend, and rarely appeared to me in the street. When I shut my eyes the phantoms would sometimes vanish entirely, though there were instances when I beheld them with my eyes closed. I saw human forms of both sexes, but they seemed not to take the smallest notice of each other, moving as in a market-place, where al] are eager to pass through the crowd ; at times, they ap. peared to be transacting business with each other. I also saw seve- ral times people on horseback, dogs and birds. All these phantoms appeared to me of their natural size, and as distinct as though alive, exhibiting the purest flesh colour in the hands and face, and the most vivid shades in the dresses. The longer these phantoms con- tinued to visit me, the more frequently did they return, whilst, at the same time, they increased in numbers. About four weeks after they had first appeared, I also began to hear them talk, they con- versed among themselves, but more frequently they addressed them- selves to me ; their speeches were commonly short, and never of an unpleasant turn.” After the continuance of these hallucinations for about four months, they began to fade ; as the remedies employed for the cure of his indisposition were beneficial. The colours at first became dimmer, then the outlines of the figures were indistinct and fleecy ; afterwards they appeared nothing more than a chaos of mist floating before him, till at length they mingled with the AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 227 breezes and were secn no more. It is not for us to say precisely in what manner the faculties of the mind are disturbed by affections of its material organ the brain. It is, however, extremely proba- ble that this happens from a deranged circulation of the sanguine- ous or nervous fluids, for I assume it as a fact, that a nervous fluid does exist, though of so subtle a character that it will always escape the microscope of the most minute anatomist. Many facts might be adduced in support of this opinion, but they would be out of place. It is likewise probable that this disturbance of the mind, this undue predominance of one function to the extinction or diminution of the remainder, depends solely upon this derangement of the cir- culation of the nervous fluids, since we know that, in a vast number of instances, disorder of the blood-vessels would not be followed by any such train of events. Again; disturbance of the mind is pro- duced by that mysterious connexion of the brain with remote parts of the body, which is termed sympathy; and this is, perhaps, by far the most common source of hallucination. The study of sympathy is altogether neglected, and its importance overlooked. If these were minutely traced in connexion with the different constitutions of mind as dependent upon those of the body, we should at once be in possession of a body of facts which would elucidate and explain all, or at least the greater part, of the phenomena of hallucinations. As it is, we are unable to explain the majority of the causes which produce this exalted state of the Imagination, and make the bodiless creations of the mind more vivid to the senses than those arising from the actual impression of the objects which surround us. The constitution of the mind influences the nature of the illu- sions which are produced. If this be habitually gloomy and austere, superstitious and melancholy, and in this state it receive strong im- pressions, the nature of the attendant visions will be of a correspond- ing terrific character. A most extraordinary case of this character occurred in Paris some years ago; and I am not certain whether the subject of it is not now living, and does not yet retain her gloomy and horrible ideas :—A female, during a state of corporeal disease, gave herself up to the study, or rather to the perusal, of books of witchcraft and tales of sorcery. Under the mental excitement © which this occasioned, as she was one day walking in her garden, she was surprized to see, advancing along the walk to meet her, a figure, whom she recognized as the Mephistophiles of some of her fictions. The sarcastic countenance, the sepulchral brilliancy of eye, the suit of sable in which he was habited, at once convinced her that the abyss had given up one of its inhabitants to communi- 228 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL cate with her on the subject of her grief, and to offer to her that consolation which neither heaven nor earth could bestow or afford. I should have said that, in addition to the other conceits which tor- mented her, her mind was uneasy with regard to a sum of money which she had borrowed, and in default of the repayment of which the creditor had threatened her with imprisonment. Mephistophi- les accosted her with his usual insinuating politeness, with the sophistry which ruined Faustus, and the gilded temptation which has blasted and destroyed the happiness of thousands more: he promised to find her the money if she would make over to him her body, promising that her spirit should continue to wander through air and earth, through flood and fire, unharmed and imperishable, insensible to pain, unexcited by pleasure, and, like Ladurlad, free from all the various kinds of death which the united force of physi- cal agents could inflict. She consented. She pricked her thumb— and signed the deed. Instantly, flames burst out around her, tor- rents rushed over her, the whirlwind and the tornado encircled her —but she was free from the violence of all. The devil had taken her body, her ghost only was left ; and material agents could no more hurt her than they could affect the Being that created them. So firmly convinced is, or was, this poor creature that all that had passed was true, and not a creation of her own disordered fancy, that she affirmed she had attempted to drown, to burn, and to hang herself ; for she was convinced that she was a spiritual and nota corporeal being, and, therefore, the things of earth had no. power over her. The physician who attended her declared that he had, at her request, passed a small dagger through the fleshy part of her arm, and that she was totally insensible to pain.* Such tricks hath strong Imagination. Hallucination partakes not only of the character of the individual in whom it occurs, but likewise of the nature of the disease which produced it. The last, however, is, in reality, so strictly dependent upon the first—z. e., the form of disease is so influenced by the temperament or constitution of the individual in whom it originates —that the second of these states may be considered merely as a morbid modification of the former. The hallucinations of hysteria, hypochondria, fever, and inflammation of the brain, will illustrate this point. Those attendant upon hysteria are of a lively and vo- latile character ; the patient fancies herself attended by the most * This case, originally observed and related by Esquirol, is to be found in the Dictionnaire des Sciences Médicales ; art. Demonomania. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 229 grotesque and curious apparitions, birds of the brightest exotic plu- mage, animals of the most extraordinary shapes, forms of the most fascinating and alluring description. The patient is generally highly delighted with her attendant spectres; their manceuvres produce the most violent peals of laughter, and the most extrava- gant expressions of delight. The hallucinations of hypochondria are sad and gloomy, consisting of single figures gliding about in slow and solemn state, attending a funeral procession, or weeping for the loss of property or friends ; their countenances and dresses are all of the same sombre and forbidding cast, they all relate to the patient’s misfortunes, and never minister to his pleasure ; they are essentially the phantoms of sorrow, the personifications of grief, the emblems of sadness and despair. Those accompanying fever are of another character ; they are vivid and numerous, hurried in their motions, constantly changing their shape, appearing and dis- appearing with wonderful celerity ; like the dreams of persons thus affected, they are terrific or alluring, distressing or pleasant, in pro- portion as the symptoms are aggravated or mild. The spectres pro- duced by inflammation of the brain border almost upon the inten- sity of those which we noticed in the last lecture as accompanying a paroxysm of mania. They are huge, gigantic shapes, correspond. ing in size and form to the great excitement of the mind. They are the Titans of hallucinations, powerful beings, armed, deter- mined, and terrific. Their forms are strong and muscular, their countenances fiery and passionate, and their habiliments remarkable for the brilliancy of their colouring and the peculiarity of their fashion. The last instances of hallucination from bodily affections which I shall mention, are those which occasionally attend the dying couch of the sick, or the rack or scaffold of the martyr. Strange and mysterious is the tie which connects the mind and body. We ob- serve, during ordinary states of disease, the strength and faculties of the mind modified, exalted, and depressed in some degree proportion- ate to the bodily affection; during the series of lectures which I have been delivering, these have frequently fallen under ob- servation, and from their various peculiarities of circumstance have led to some of our most pleasing illustrations. What the strength and limits of that connection are which unite the mind and body we know not; we see them grow and expand together into the full power of perfect maturity, we witness the beauty of that harmony which unites them in so close a bond ; we wonder, and theorize, and speculate, and to a certain extent these dreams of science hold 230 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL good ; but when we come to that scene which shews us the death and destruction of one, we stand amazed at the power which the other sometimes appears suddenly to acquire. As, rising above the wreck of the body, the mind calls together its wandering faculties and, collecting them into a focus, shines forth with a brilliancy and splendour which illumine but for a moment and then pass away into a more extended field of inquiry, where our limited senses are unable to follow her. It is this degree of mental excitement which, at a moment when the material and immaterial portions of our nature are about to separate, produces these hallucinations, of which many instances have been recorded. It is a state not between death and existence, but between this present degree of it, and one far more exalted. The mind travels by anticipation into the un. seen world, and from many circumstances of visions at these periods we might be almost led to suppose that a part of its glories were, in some instances, revealed to it. The memoirs of Lady Fanshawe furnish a remarkable example of this: she was so near dissolution that her friends supposed her actually dead. The struggling breath, the quivering lip, and tremulous motion of the body, indicated that the change had not, as yet, taken place. From the use of some remedies she was partially restored, and being so, she affirmed that she had been perfectly sensible to all that had passed around her, but that she had been visited by two in white raiment, from whom she had solicited a continuance of her existence for fifteen years. It was granted ; and her friends asserted that she did actually die that day fifteen years. This is one of those remarkable and rare coincidences between the vigour of the Imagination and the actual occurrence of facts that have at all times puzzled and misled the vulgar ; and, indeed, well-authenticated narratives of this kind, which this decidedly was, are Gordian knots at which even the learned shake their heads, and attempt not to untie. These kinds of hallucinations frequently deceive the senses of the dying. Shak- speare, with exquisite taste, has cast the halo of his genius around the death-bed of Catherine of Arragon, in deluding her with a vision of this character. “Saw you not, even now, a blessed group Invite me to a banquet, whose bright faces Cast thousand beams upon me, like the sun ? They promised me eternal happiness, And brought me garlands, Griffith, which I feel I am not worthy yet to wear, but shall assuredly.” AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 931 Theodorus, who was unremittingly tortured by Julian, the apos- tate, for ten hours, relates that, whilst under the hands of the exe- cutioners, he was visited by a bright youth, conceived by him to be a messenger from heaven, who allayed his sufferings by wiping the perspiration from his body, and pouring cold water upon his lace- rated limbs. Gregory, Archbishop of Prague, under the extremity of the torture of the rack, had a vision, in which he supposed him- self visited by three men, who were afterwards elected the first bishops of the Moravians. Massinger, in his play of The Virgin Martyr, has taken advantage of this fact, and introduces a spectral illusion to comfort Theophilus under torture by the command of the tyrant Dioclesian. The extacy produced in the martyr’s mind by the hallucination is finely described by the poet. * Most glorious vision ! Did ere so hard a bed yield man a dream So heavenly as this? I am confirmed, Confirmed, you blessed spirits ! and make haste To take that crown of immortality You offer me. Death, till this blest minute I never thought thee slow paced, nor would I Hasten thee now for.any pain I suffer, But that thou keep’st me from a glorious wreath Which through this stormy way I would creep to, And, humbly kneeling, with humility wear it. Oh! now I feel thee. Blessed spirit, I come ! And, witness for me all these wounds and scars, I die a soldier in the Christian wars.” Very vivid sensations of either kind, whether of pain or pleasure, change their character after long continuance ; the pleasurable becoming painful, whilst the painful are ultimately attended with extreme pleasure. It is the latter cireumstance which is supposed to act with so much intensity upon the mind in cases of long-con- tinued torture, and, by producing in it a like degree of excitement, to call up that kind of illusion to which I have just referred. The histories of religious persecutions furnish a multitude of facts of this nature. Happily, at this era, and in this country, we know not the effects of bodily torture inflicted by the caprice or will of man : the rack, the wheel, and the pulley are now merely the curi- osities of museums. | | | _ The only kind of hallucinations remaining to be noticed, are those produced by the nitrous oxide and by certain narcotic and acro-nar- cotic substances, as opium and the deadly nightshade. Those pro- 232 ON THE EFFECTS OF CERTAIN MENTAL duced by nitrous oxide appear to have been much exaggerated, and chiefly extend to the delusions of the ear. ‘Those from opium are of a most extraordinary character; of its effect in thus producing the hallucinations of spectral forms, I have to bring forward a case that perhaps has seldom been surpassed for its singularity. A most intimate friend of my own, a gentleman of high respectability, and well known in the world of science, received an injury in the thumb whilst abroad in a hot climate, which was followed by an attack of tetanus, commonly known under the denomination of cramp or locked jaw. He relied upon laudanum for his cure, and increased the dose till he regularly took nine drachms every three hours night and day for three weeks. He was not unusually affected by it for some days, but after the lapse of a short time, the chamber in which he lay appeared to extend itself on all sides till he fancied himself laid in avast library and museum. (This effect of opium in appa- rently enlarging space, it will be recollected, I mentioned in my second lecture.) One side of the vast dome was covered with ma- rine productions of all kinds, the other fitted up with books. By degrees the room became peopled with spectral forms, the living and dead moved about in all the natural beauty of countenance ; the co. lours of the dresses were as vivid as though they clothed breathing forms; the spectres were not transparent or filmy, but concealed objects which were placed behind them, and in fact possessed all the characters of living men; they addressed him, reached down the books and spread them open before him, and he has assured me that many useful discoveries which he has since made were read by him in the spectral books, which the no less spectral librarians reached down for his perusal ; tools of all kinds were strewed over the floor, the instruments of all nations, for war, agriculture, mechanics, and commerce, some of which he had never before seen, but which he has since recognized. ‘This state of the imagination continued dur- ing the whole time he was under the full influence of the opium: as the quantity was diminished the spectres began to fade, the walls of his chamber to assume their customary plain appearance, and the room returned to its natural size and figure. Such are the chief phenomena of the Imagination in health and in disease, sleeping and waking, in the sane and in the insane. This extraordinary power—this great division of the faculties of the mind—is the most varied in its actions, the most pleasing in its effects, and the most dreadful in its unlimited workings of any of the mental processes. It has been recognized in all ages as the great governor and modifier of the judgment; for it will be perceived. AND BODILY STATES UPON THE IMAGINATION. 233 from what has been said in this series of lectures, that the balance of mental power rests entirely between these two. It has produced more diseases than the whole of the physical agents of the universe. It is, in many instances, the most powerful auxiliary to their cure. A knowledge of its effects upon the constitution of man led the in- genious Mesmer to invent that system of imaginary medicine which bears the name of animal magnetism. It gave rise to the metallic tractors—it produced all the benefits attributed to the inhalation of the various gases in case of bodily disease—it is the grand sheet- anchor of empiricism. Numbers of cases might be adduced where affections of the most decided and confirmed nature have been re- moved by acting upon the Imagination of the sufferers alone; not only in circumstances of imaginary diseases of a nervous kind—such as hypochondria and others—but where even change of structure, from the healthy to the diseased character has taken place. It is difficult, as in the cases of spectral hallucinations and disordered perception, generally to explain these facts ; but they combine to lend an additional certainty to that view which considers them as changing the circulation, or at least the mode of action, of the nervous fluid. I have now finished the remarks I had to offer on a subject cer- tainly of great interest, and also of much importance. I regret I have not been able to do it more justice. A great part of it has been strictly of a scientific character, admitting, however, of consi- derable elucidation and illustration from various branches of litera- ture. Literature is the handmaid of science. The latter is an unostentatious personage, plain in her attire and homely in her language ; the former decks her in beauty, and gives her an elo- quence at once powerful and enchanting. Philosophy is the gene- ral benefactor of mankind. She does not minister to the selfishness, to the pride, to the exaltation of individuals alone, but, by the pro- duction of useful arts, by the removal of real inconveniences and dangers—she improves the condition of all by giving sightliness to what was deformed, and utility to what was hurtful—she is not a being of one country, her speech is not confined to one language, nor her dress to materials drawn from one quarter of the globe. All nations bow before her, the people of all climes worship at her feet. She is like a building which the inhabitants of the world determined to erect, whose united efforts were to produce a structure perfect in strength and beauty... The various sciences and arts were engaged in the composition of the shell and the decora. tions of the walls. The. mathematician gave it form and regulated VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2G 234 SWARM OF MINUTE INSECTS the disposition of its walls and angles ; the chemist engaged to pro- tect it against the influence of atmospheric causes, to guard it from the tempest and avert from it the lightning. The poet and the painter lavished the perfection of their art upon it; one covered its interior with pictures of every natural beauty, whilst the other exhausted language in their description. Like this is the one great family to which the learned of all nations belong ; it is the unison of many notes producing a perfect harmony, not the monotonous tinkling of one by some self-sufficient dreamer who considers all the rest harsh and untunable. Philosophy is not to be considered in the light in which Romeo viewed it; we must not cry “ Hang up philosophy, unless philosophy can make a Juliet.” In the beau- tiful expression of Florian, “The sons of science should resemble those brilliant flowers which, although dispersed in various climates, compose but one single family.” ' [We cannot publish Mr. Langston Parker’s fifth and concluding Paper on the Imagination, without thanking the talented author for the gratification he has afforded the readers of The Analyst by this delightful Course of Lec- tures.—Eps. | SWARM OF MINUTE INSECTS IN AND AROUND MACCLESFIELD. Tue gloomy, cheerless; and almost wintry weather which pre- vailed throughout the greater part of September was suddenly suc- ceeded, on the morning of the 24th, by a gleam of delightful warmth, reminding us of the most enjoyable days of summer. The wind blew softly from the south, the sun shone with the vigour of July, and the remnant of the preceding cold air lingering within our houses presented a singular contrast with the genial zephyrs which welcomed the opener of a door or a window. Those who’ were early risers on the above Saturday morning must have observ- ed the moist accumulation of vapour on the outside surface of their window panes, consequent on this change of temperature. The glass, being an indifferent conductor of heat, for a time retained the internal chill derived from the previous unseasonable state of the' air, and condensed from the southern-borne breezes the aqueous: IN AND AROUND MACCLESFIELD. 235 particles they abundantly contained ; as was sufficiently evinced by the copious discharge of rain which fell in the latter part of Tues- day, the 27th of September. Few are aware of the extraordinary mal striking effects produced by these sudden atmospheric variations, affecting very intimately the economy of animal and vegetable life, and possibly, to a considerable degree, the inanimate world also, associated, as they are now proved to be, with vibrations of electric or galvanic agency.* To what extent, or by what precise process, the above causes, separately or conjointly, operated in the production of the entomological phenomenon about to be noticed, occurring on Sunday the 25th, and partially on the Monday following, when the weather was cooler, and again on the Tuesday till the rain fell, it is impossible to say ; but to this sud- den change was unquestionably attributable the unprecedented swarm of minute insects, which, literally speaking, almost filled the air on the days above mentioned. Over what probable area it extend- ed must, be a matter of conjecture, but there is abundant evidence of this dense body occupying a space of at least twelve miles in length between Macclesfield and Knutsford, and about four in width, or in round numbers about fifty square miles. I am speaking now of this immediate neighbourhood, where the phenomenon came more directly under my observation ; but from York, Doncaster, Chester, ‘Leeds, Buxton, and other places considerably distant, notices have been received of a similar out-pouring of this insect world ; which, however, seems to have appeared in partial masses, depending, in all probability, on streams of air of higher or lower temperature. But to return to my own immediate neighbourhood. If we assign half a dozen of these insects to a square foot—and we are sure we are speaking much within the mark, as the testimony of hundreds will vouch for—on a moderate computation not less than seventeen hundred millions (or about twenty times the number of the whole human population of the globe) of these tiny beings, each gifted with instinctive qualities, each furnished with a beautiful and per- fect adaptation of physical structure for the purposes of its exist- ence, were thus brought into visible life in the space of a few hours. Such an accession of vitality, as a matter of mere curiosity, cannot but be interesting, knowing so little as we do of the secret mode by which ‘the lord and giver of life” calls into action the elemental princi- * The air denoted considerable electric action towards the beginning and middle of the week. On Wednesday there was much thunder and light- ning. 236 SWARM OF MINUTE INSECTS. ples of animation, from man to the mollusca, “ from the dust of the earth.” But in the present instance the phenomenon assumes not a less interesting, but a somewhat more alarming, aspect, when it is ascertained that the mighty mass, for it was all one and the same, not only in genus but in species, was composed of a family of in- sects which, if unchecked and unlimited in their ravages, would produce a desolation in our woods and forests, fruits and flowers, more fatally and permanently destructive than any Egyptian plague on record. For be it known that these countless myriads were neither more or less than the representative body of a formidable and fearful blight ; against which, where it once obtains firm footing, human means have hitherto been found useless and unavailing. The insect belonged to the class Hemiptera, and to the genus Aphis, commonly known: by the name of Plant Louse, and familiar to all, on the rose trees, as those small wingless insects, which clus- ter together on the stems, usually just beneath the bud or the flow- ers, and on the larch, apple, and many other fruit trees, as the dow- ny, soft clammy mites, which abound more or less, according to the prevailing character of the season. There are about one hundred known genera of this pestiferous breed, of which about fifty, we are sorry to say, have found a legitimate place, as indigenous or natural- ized (for some of the worst have been imported from America or elsewhere) in Great Britain. The species which has led to these remarks, by its abrupt and multitudinous intrusion, is a beautiful subject for microscopic examination when exposed to strong solar light, for otherwise they appear to be nearly black. The wings, four in number, were perfectly transparent, rather irridescent, and with few reticulations. The head and thorax black, the metotho- racic scutum marked with two bright orange bands. The eyes globular and prominent. The antenne filiform, or of equal thick- ness, consisting of eight or nine articulations, the terminal one ra- ther attenuating at the point. From the jaws a proboscis project- ed, which bent down so closely as to be nearly hidden under the thorax, and was not easily seen. The legs were six in number, of a tawny colour, with the exception of the thicker part of the tibia, which was black ; the remainder of the tibia, and the whole of the tarsus being also semi-transparent; the latter was also partially furnished with short bristles; at the extremity of the abdomen was a short tubular horn; the colour of the abdomen was of a pale yellowish green and black, in lateral stripes—Without very correct plates, or cabinets of reference, it would be hazardous to assign the exact specific name, but in description, it allied itself so nearly, IN AND AROUND MACCLESFIELD. 237 with one too well known, Aphis pruni, or common plum blight of the spring, that it might be almost identified with that species. Of all classes of insects that of the Aphis assuredly presents the most singular and peculiar properties. While some are winged, others are not so, and this without distinction of age or sex. In the early part of the year they are viviparous, or producing their young alive ; whereas, in the autumn, they are oviparous, or layers of eggs, which remain throughout the winter; but by a surprising aberration from the common laws of nature, it appears, that one impregnation of the female is sufficient for seven, certainly, and it is suspected of many more, generations ; that is to say, that the first female will lay eggs, productive of other females, laying their eggs, and successively productive of seven or more broods; and when it is further known that in five generations, one single Aphis may thus be the parent of nearly six hundred million descendents, well may our foresters, nurserymen, and gardeners, tremble at the bare possibility of the stupendous influx we are now noticing, each car- rying on its prolific capabilities without check or restraint, by which in the early part of next spring, such an appalling pestilence may be turned loose to make a barren wilderness of our gardens and pleasure grounds. But Nature—ever provident and cireumspect— for the possible evil, has provided various checks, each or all of which, are ever at work in neutralizing the devastating effects which might otherwise ensue from similar causes. We have alluded to the operation in ceaseless action of meteorological and electro-magnetic agency. But if with them the disorder originates, by them also is the remedy provided, and the equilibrium of general utility and ad- vantage restored. These little insects which germed into life so suddenly, were (if we may so designate them) children of the sun- beam ; let it withdraw its invigorating radiance, let the winds blow but for an hour from a less genial quarter, and the thermometer fall but a few degrees,—they vanish,—their place is seen no more,— and their mass, the slight framework of an ephemeral existence, again becomes a compound of unorganized matter, ready, however, again at any appointed time, once more to become the recipient of animal or vegetable life, obedient to the summons, and according as it is acted upon by the fiat of Omnipotence. Ss. 238 THE POET SHENSTONE. Tuer biographies of eminent men are too frequently made up of mere fulsome eulogies on their virtues, or bitter and harsh decla- mations against their vices; qualities, portions of which will be found inherent and mingled in all characters, but which in these instances are exaggerated and painted with an overloaded pencil, to gratify and tickle the whimsical and capricious palate of a false pub- lic taste. Their real characters, their habits, and train of thought, their real opinions, and the real motives of those actions of which alone the world can have cognizance, can never be ascertained with any certainty from such compositions. Whatever, therefore, has a tendency to afford us data by which to judge of the talents, the taste, the intellectual cultivation and acquirements of men eminent in their generation, cannot fail of proving acceptable to every sin- cere and honest inquirer after truth. In the library of the late Mr. David Parkes, of Shrewsbury, were many delightful memorials of the elegant-minded Shenstone, and among these a copy of Prior’s Poems, 5th edition, 3 vols., London, 1733, with a portrait prefixed, which originally belonged to the poet, and which was peculiarly interesting, as containing memoran- da of his having perused the volumes with critical attention, mark- ing each poem with a certain number of crosses, indicative of the degree of excellence which he conceived each to possess. On the fly leaves of the first volume are the following observa- tions, in Shenstone’s hand-writing :-— * Des livres Du Guill. Shenstone du Coll. du Pem. a Oxon. 1735.” ** November the 26th, 1739.—Read over all Prior’s Works a se- cond time, marking the pieces I most admired with a proportionate number of crosses.”’ «‘ Prior’s Cloe was a cheerful, gay, facetious old woman, that used to laugh with a profusion of good humour until she was al- most ready to die, at the conceit of her being a poet’s flame. And Prior, we may be sure, was equally delighted with the excellence of her understanding. See the Critick on Vanessa, in Swift's Works, vol. vi.” THE POET SHENSTONE. 239 At the end of the volume was « An additional stanza to the Nut-brown Maid, from Mr. Percy’s old MS.” “ Here ye may see, that women be In love, kinde, meeke and stable ; Let never men reprove them then, And call them variable. But rather pray* to God, that they To men be comfortable, That have proved, such as they loved ; If they be charitable.+ But all men wolde, the women sholde Be kind to them each one. Yet rather I had God obey And serve but him alone.” The following are the pieces marked :— xxxx Epistle to Fleetwood Shephard, Esq. x A Song x The Despairing Shepherd xx To the Hon. Charles Montague, Esq. x Lady’s Looking Glass ‘x Toa Lady, she refusing to continue a dispute, &c. xx Celia to Damon xx Ode on His Majesty’s Arrival in Holland, 1695 x Imitation of Anacreon x An Ode x English Ballad on taking of Namur x To Mr. Howard; an Ode x Love Disarmed x Cloe Hunting x Cupid and Ganymede x Cupid Mistaken x Venus Mistaken xxxx The Dove xx A Lover’s Anger xx On Beauty ; a Riddle xxxx The Garland xx The lady who offers her looking-glass to Venus xx Cloe Jealous * Thank ? + Obscure. +“ This last seemingly indicates it to have been written by a lady.” 240 THE POET SHENSTONE. xx A better Answer xxxx To a young gentleman in love xxxxxxx An English Padlock xxxxxx Hans Carvel x Paulo Purganti xxxx The Ladle | x To Dr. Sherlock, on his Practical Discourse concern- ing Death xx The Chameleon xx Merry Andrew xxx A Simile x The Flies x Epigram—* To John I ow’d,” &c. x Another—“ Yes! every poet,” &c. xxxxx Nut-brown Maid xxxxxxx Henry and Emma x A True Maid—* Ten Months,” &c. x A Reasonable A filiction xx An Epigram written to the Duke de or xx Epilogue to Phedra xx Epilogue to Lucius xxxx The Thief and the Cordelier xxxx An Epitaph x Earl Robert’s Mice xxx In the same style x In the same style xxxx Protogenes and Apelles xxxxx Alma; three Cantos xxx The Turtle and Sparrow xxx Down Hall xx Epistle to Fleetwood Shephard, Esq., 1689 xx The Remedy worse than the Disease — xx On Bishop Atterbury burying John, Duke of Bucks xxxx The Conversation xx Colin’s Mistakes xx The Female Phaeton x Judgment of Venus xx Epitaph for Himself, spoken extempore. 241 THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC.* BErore we proceed to the consideration of this subject, or rather as affording some prefatory explanations of our own views, let us examine two papers by Mr. H. J. Gauntlett, which appeared as leading articles of a monthly publication, called the Musical World ; and in which, the principles laid down by Dr. Crotch in his mu- sical lectures, and elsewhere, are controverted with rather more warmth than the occasion seems exactly to require. Mr. Gauntlett appears to ground his hostility mainly on the bad judgment shewn in awarding the Gresham prize, and on the small success which has attended the labours of Dr. Crotch and his followers, in the pro- duction of music for the church. We say appears, for though he does not say so in as many words, and although he has, in a loose and rambling manner, brought forward arguments which he ima- gines tend to demolish these principles ; yet it is sufficiently evident that his remarks were prompted by what he considers the mal- awardment of the prize: from this springs his hostility to the prin- ciples above mentioned, to shew the justice of which hostility, he afterwards seeks for arguments, and brings forward examples and even ridicule. With what ability, fairness, and success he has wielded these weapons, we now propose to inquire. Mr. G. commences by giving an account of the origin of the Gresham prize, annually awarded, “for the best original composi- tion in sacred vocal music, either hymn or anthem ; the words to be selected from the Canonical Scriptures, &c. ; and to be set for three, four, or five voices, with a separate part for the organ; the music to be entirely new.” Mr. G. has put the last two sentences in italics, for reasons, doubtless, most excellent, but which we confess ourselves unable to fathom. ‘The first prize was awarded to Mr. Charles Hart, the second to Mr. Kellow Pye, the third to Mr. Goss, the fourth to Mr. Elvey, the fifth and Jast to Mr. C. Lucas. Now, from these compositions having gained the prize, Mr. Gaunt- lett infers that they are all in what the umpires consider the true sublime style, and thence that the principles on which Dr. Crotch (one of the umpires) has founded his decision, are groundless. This inference is, we think, not borne out by sound reasoning: is it not * We propose, in future, to dedicate a few pages in each number to an original paper on the “ divine art,” and a few more to critical notices of such new musical publications as are sent to us for review.—Eps. VOL. V.-—NO. XVIII. 2u 242 THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IM MUSIC. possible, nay probable, that, far from being what Dr. Crotch would have wished them, they were only what he considered the best of those presented to him. Mr. G: begs the question ; he first takes for granted, not only that there are those existing, who can write in the style advocated by the doctor, but that compositions in this style were sent in for competition ; and then, because a certain composition gains the prize, concludes it must be in that style. He cannot escape this dilemma, for he has made the Gresham prize compositions the test of the soundness of Dr. Crotch’s opinions on the true style of church music. . But suppose all sent in to be in- different (a thing not at all impossible) some one must gain the prize, which was to be given for the best, but not necessarily for a good composition. Having now taken down what in reality, if not in seeming, is Mr. G.’s main-sail, let us now examine the minor details of his rigging. Let him speak for himself :—< The habit of madrigal and glee writing has hitherto exercised a powerful influence on the ecclesi- astical style of our countrymen. Indeed, the two modes acted re- ciprocally upon each other. The vocal works of Handel have, in some degree, effected a departure from the more ancient forms of church music. The fine anthem, Like as the Hart panteth for the Water Brooks, evidently afforded a model to Boyce for that best effort of his genius, the anthem composed for the annual celebration of the festival of the sons of the clergy. Battishill also adopts the yery phrases of the great German composer. The beautiful point on the words ‘Think thou on me, O Lord,’ from the trio anthem, Call to Remembrance, is taken from the last eight bars of the move- ment which closes the fine duett, Se tu non Lasciamore. That it was a favourite sequence with Battishill, is evident from his use of it again in one of his three-part glees.” Now what, in the name of common sense, has all this to do with the question ?. the vocal works of Handel, may, or may not, have exercised the influence he speaks of; the effect, however, from whatever cause arising, still remains the same, namely, the increasing secularisation, and consequently, the decreasing sublimity of music for the church. Who that has an ear to judge of, and a mind to appreciate, true sublimity, will deny that from the time when Bird flourished, down to the end of the last century, to bring it no further, modulations and harmonies derived from the madrigal, the opera, and the concert room, have been gradually though not imperceptibly creeping in and polluting the fountain, which at its source was pure and unalloyed, and cal- culated only to rouse those emotions of yeneration and awe, which THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC. 243 should be almost the sole end of sacred music. No one, we think, acquainted with the compositions produced during this period, will deny our position with regard to their general tendency: some great minds, we admit, there were, who endeavoured, and for a time did stop this downward march ; but that march, nevertheless, did continue, and may with propriety be compared to a mountain stream, at times interrupted by rocks and other impediments, but only flowing the faster to its destination after it has overleaped those impediments. Mr. Gauntlett divides the ecclesiastical composers of the present day into five classes :— ** 1st. The school adopted by Wesley, which has been carried out on the same principles that led to the changes effected by Gibbons, Purcell, Boyce, and Battishill. “2nd. The school adopted by Attwood and Novello, which, al- though they differ in degree, we do not deem the difference so im- portant as to call for a distinct arrangement. These composers, like Wesley, recognise the principles laid down and practised by the great names just referred to, but apply them in a more dramatic manner. In each of these schools intense feeling takes the prece- dence of school-boy imitation.”"—-We suppose from this that the ** great names above referred to”’ made “ school-boy imitation” their chief aim ! “3rd. The school (yet in its infancy) founded on a union of Purcell, Bach, and Beethoven, of which the Exeter Wesley may be said to be the inventor.”—-So that this school unites the merits of these three great masters! Surely Mr. G. was not awake when he penned this sentence. “Ath. The school adopted by those glee writers, who are not addicted to the schism propogated by the Oxford Professor, and which includes the names of Robert Cooke, Shield, Evans, Walmis- ley, Jolly, and others. “5th. The ‘ true sublime,’ of which Messrs, Crotch and Horsley are pre-eminently the corner stones.” Let us ask Mr. G. which of the schools (if schools they must be) has produced, or is capable of producing, such another work as Dr. Crotch’s Palestine, except the one of which he is pre-eminently the corner stone? ‘The answer is inevitable; none. Again, whose name, amongst those above mentioned, stands highest as a composer ? If Mr. G. is unwilling to answer this question, we will answer it for him, and instance the Oratorio of Palestine, as Dr. Crotch’s 244 THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC. claim to rank above every living English composer. So that the ** true sublime” has every reason to be proud of its corner stone. After this enumeration—in which it is wished to be proved that the English ecclesiastical composers of the present day are superior, not only to their countrymen who preceded them, but even to Bach and Beethoven, two of the greatest of the continental composers— follows an explanation of their various merits, in which the words, *‘ pedantry,” “ learning,” “‘ expression,” and so forth, are employed, as they too often are, without any precise meaning. We have often heard people complain of the music of the older church writers, as wanting in “ expression ;” little dreaming, the while, that there may be expression which is beyond their comprehension: In such cases, we have sometimes tried to come to a proper understanding of the meaning annexed to this word by such persons, but have never ob. tained a satisfactory answer: we conclude, however, that when it has a meaning, it signifies those pleasant contrasts of soft and loud, quick and slow, &c., which are so calculated ‘ ad captandum vulgus ;” and which answer in music, to what in the sister art is called daub. ing: only use an agreeable variety of colours, and lay them on thick enough, you are sure to please the common herd. Every one admires Martin, a few only can really appreciate Michael Angelo. We now come to his exposition of the principles of the ‘‘ true sub- lime,” and here it is that we complain of unfair dealing. He says —©Ist. That as music is divided into three styles—the sublime, the beautiful, and the ornamental or picturesque—and that as in all cases where the order of the invention or adoption of the three styles cau be ascertained, the sublime will be found to be the earliest, ergo, ancient music is the most sublime.” Now, if ever a sentence was nonsensical from the beginning to the end, we think this is entitled to that appellation. What, we ask again, in the name of common sense, has “the order of the invention or adoption of the three styles” to do with the various merits of those styles? Mr. G. evidently misunderstands or wilfully misinterprets the principles he pretends to explain, or he would not have talked either of “inven. tion” or “ adoption.” To any one who has even cursorily examined the music of the three last centuries, the impropriety of these words must be evident, implying as they do sudden and radical changes ; whereas, as we have before stated, every thing during this time has been going on gradually, though not imperceptibly. ‘The term «* adoption,” too, implies the use of one style to the exclusion of the others, which neither Dr. Crotch nor any one else has ever stated THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC. 245 to be the case. The last part of his sentence amounts to this—an- cient music is the most sublime ; ergu, it is so. Here he has given himself needless trouble. He goes on—‘‘ Ancient music is, then, confined to the period between 1400 and 1600. ‘The learned pro- fessor of Oxford, finding that by this assertion, he had foreclosed the works of not a few writers, who enjoy the reputation of occa- sionally stumbling upon the pure sublime, subsequently enlarges his boundaries to the early part of the eighteenth century. He is thus enabled to let in Purcell and his contemporaries. Those who wish to study the early specimens of pure sublimity, on the principles laid down, must, we presume, look into the Dodecachordon of Gla- reanus. Choron, Fetis, Cherubini, and Reicha, afford examples suf- ficiently numerous to satisfy any reasonably modest student.” Now, as Dr. Crotch distinctly avows, specimens of sublimity, if that. were all that is wanted, may be found in the compositions of later writers ; but it is to the general tenor of their works to which he directs attention: a mass by Cherubini is less sublime, as a whole, than one by Leo or Pergolesi: not that in the former, there may not be found specimens of sublimity, but that music, not adapted for sacred purposes, forms too large a portion of it. Let us hear Dr. Crotch himself:—“< As long as the pure sublime style—the style peculiarly suited to the church service—was cherished, which was only to about the middle of the seventeenth century, we consi- der the ecclesiastical style to be in a state worthy of study and imi- tation—in a state of perfection. But it has been gradually, though not imperceptibly, losing its character of sublimity ever since. Im- provements have, indeed, been made in the contexture of the score, in the flow of melody, in the accentuation and expression of the words, in the beauty of the solo, and in the delicacy of the accompaniment. But these are not indications of the sublime. Church music is, there. . fore, on the decline.” Again: “ Let the young composer study the productions of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, in order to acquire the true church style, which should always be sublime and scientific, and contain no modern harmonies or melodies.” Here is distinctly mentioned, the class of writers to be studied by the stu- dent, if sublimity be his object ; which, from Mr. G.’s silly refer. ence to the Dodecachordon of Glareanus, one would not think had been the case. When a writer on science descends to ridicule, he may fairly lie under the suspicion of feeling himself on ground that will not bear him. Again, ancient music is not confined to the pe- riod between 1400 and 1600, but the assertion of Dr. Crotch is, that the true style of church music was most cultivated during the six- 246 THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC. teenth and seventeenth centuries; which, not to notice the ridicu- lous and gratuitous use of the word ancient, makes the slight differ- ence of one hundred years in the calculation: this, however, we presume is a consideration of small import. With regard to the modulations and harmonies forbidden in ec- clesiastical music—which isthe next and last point noticed by Mr. Gauntlett, and in which he gives us a list of the chords he imagines are interdicted—the rule may be comprised in a few words. Let nothing trivial, nothing commonplace, nothing which reminds of the opera or concert-room enter into its composition ; here all must be elevated, calculated to excite feelings of veneration and awe, in unison with the sacred edifice in which it is performed, and approx- imating to the loftiness of the great Being, in whose service, and for whose praise it is employed. The same feelings which find their exercise in the worship and reverence of the Deity, will be excited by the sublime, in whatever way it may present itself. In reading the two articles just noticed, no one, we think, can fail to be struck with the total want of fixed principle. Like the great majority of the public, the writer applauds and censures he knows not why: he seems to have no notion of criticism, unless it be founded on his own taste; no test for excellence, but that de- rived from his own discernment. This it is which causes in the public such lamentable want of taste. People seem to have no idea that a composition can be good, which does not happen to please them ; yet if asked for the reason of their disapprobation, they look exceedingly foolish, or probably give a woman’s reason. As long as public opinion exists in this state, can we expect music to assume the station it deserves? Assuredly not: for it is contrary to rea- son to suppose that musicians should so far forget their own interests, as to oppose themselves to the prevailing taste on which their live- lihood often depends, and their reputation is at all times to be gain- ed; and yet, without this opposition, they cannot make a reason- able use of the powers they possess. Public opinion must, and does influence the composers, and not composers public opinion. In order that the latter may exert a proper influence, and that music may assert its true dignity (which can only be the case when the different styles are confined to their proper spheres), it must be en- lightened as to what are the true principles of criticism, as applied to the art, and be taught to appreciate the different values of, as well as the different degrees of, excellence to be found in the seve. ral styles. We should then no longer be sickened by hearing the works of the older church writers called dry and pedantic, or com- THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC. 247 plained of as deficient in expression, or as not going to the heart: we should no longer hear the trash of Bellini and his fellow labour- ers in the field of dullness, cried up to the skies, and Mozart, per- haps in the same breath, stigmatized as heavy: no longer hear vaunts of the improvements daily making in the art, when it is known that those improvements are made principally, if not solely, in the lower walks of that art ; in short, no longer hear music ap- plauded, solely because it pleases, or decried, because it is beyond the comprehension of a depraved taste. Can any one, who has given the subject a moment’s considera- tion, deny that the sublime is the highest department of all the fine arts? Who, in poetry, thinks of setting Thomas Moore or Mrs. Hemans before Milton? Many—the great majority, we have no doubt—in their hearts prefer the former; but, having some regard to their reputation as persons of taste, dare not avow their lurking partiality. Again; who, if he were making out a list of eminent painters, and placing them in the order of their merit, would set Copley, Fielding, or Hunt before Michael Angelo? Certainly no one would so commit himself: and why? not because his works are more generally pleasing, or more comprehensible to the uniniti- ated ; but, in both these instances, because the principle is acknow- ledged, that, to succeed in producing sublimity is to have attained the highest excellence. We, consequently, never hear of Milton being dry, or Michael Angelo unintelligible. On the contrary, whatever they may think, all are anxious to be foremost in express- ing their admiration of the works of these great men. Thus we see that, in these two arts, poetry and painting, certain fixed principles are acknowledged, in criticising and determining the degrees of praise to be awarded to works produced in them. This is one step gained. But in music, unhappy music, the attempt to introduce criticism founded on such principles, is scouted as the height of absurdity, as savouring of pedantry, and shewing the hardy innovator to be totally devoid, not only of genius, but of taste. In music, every one evidently thinks his own taste sufficient to determine, to his own satisfaction, the merits or demerits of a composition ; on this, and this alone, it must either stand or fall. Thus it is that a mo- dern Italian cavatina is preferred to and set far above Hosanna to the Son of David, by Orlando Gibbons, (if, indeed a comparison is condescended to), because, forsooth, it has more expression, because it goes to the heart, and a thousand other reasons equally full of meaning. But what is the proper way of viewing the subject? The sublime style of every art is, as we have stated, the highest 248 THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC. department of that art: those works, therefore, which excel in this style, should receive the highest admiration. But this style is, also, the most difficult to excel in, as well as to understand ; hence it has so limited a number of votaries, and touches the hearts of so few ; hence it is that the art, after it has risen to a certain pitch of excel- lence, assumes every year a less exalted character, and that sacred music is more and more debased by vulgar harmonies and operatic divisions ; until (which is now taking place) the public, disgusted by the degradation which it has itself brought about, recurs to the works of former times, and revives in itself that taste for excellence, and that appreciation of the real merits of compositions, to which it has been so long a stranger. All persons generally call compositions they cannot understand dry and pedantic, and feel pleased only with those they compre- hend ; ought they not, therefore, instead of railing at the immortal works of other ages, to endeavour, by a long and deep study of their excellencies, to render themselves capable of appreciating these relics of the mighty dead? It is only the lower walks of any art that are naturally pleasing ; the higher, to become so, require long study, but, when once understood, afford a satisfaction to which the admirers of the former are strangers ; they possess the power of abstracting the mind from all surrounding objects, and of relieving it from care and sorrow itself. Sir Joshua Reynolds confesses that on first beholding the Cartoons of Raphaelle he felt disappointed, but that, after a closer investigation, he became so enraptured that he could hardly satiate his admiration of them. So it is with the sacred works of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; they at first appear dry, pedantic, and antiquated, but gradually become more and more pleasing, until the mind, carried away by their sub- limity, rises far above the earth, its petty cares and sorrows, and soars in a region of lofty and unalloyed pleasure—we may almost say enchantment—utterly unknown to the exclusive admirers of the pretty, the elegant, and what they term the expressive. ** However persons may differ respecting this profusion of orna- ment, when applied to secular compositions, there can surely be but one opinion as to their admission into the church. Sacred music, as a medium of divine communications, ought to possess a character of its own, so distinct from the music of the concert room as in no respect to recal vain and idle associations.”* Unhappily, however, for music, instead of unity of opinion on this subject, we should * Music of the Church, by the Rev. J. Latrobe. THOUGHTS ON THE SUBLIME IN MUSIC. 249 certainly, on examination, find the majority on the other side, and the advocates for the preservation of the elevated character of church music few in comparison with those who see no impropriety in introducing languishing strains and operatic flourishes instead of what they call the dull, prosing, and inexpressive harmonies of the old anthem. It is argued by some that God is love, and that he never intended to be worshipped in austerity and gloom: but has it never entered into their heads that there is some difference between the music required for the celebration of the love of God and that em- ployed by a lover to gain the favours of his mistress? Is there no difference between God’s love and man’s love? The former is the highest and noblest sentiment that enters the human breast, and as such should be expressed in the loftiest and sublimest music, and not in “ Light airs and recollected terms Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times.” To guide the student to the attainment of the elevation and sub- limity so indispensable to music designed for divine worship, we cannot do better than conclude by a quotation from the Lectures on Painting, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, a work from the study of which the musician will derive almost equal benefit with the painter :— ** The modern who recommends himself as a standard may justly be suspected as ignorant of the true end, and unacquainted with the proper objects, of the art which he professes. To follow such a guide will not only retard the student but mislead him. On whom then shall he rely? or who shall shew him the path that leads to excellence? The answer is obvious: those great masters who have travelled the same road with success are the most likely to conduct others. The works of those who have stood the test of ages have a claim to that respect and veneration to which no modern can pre- tend. The duration and stability of their fame is sufficient to evince that it has not been suspended upon the slender thread of fashion and caprice, but bound to the heart by every tie of sympa- thetic approbation.” ‘“ Let him, then, regard them as perfect and infallible ; as subjects for his imitation, not his criticism.” VoL. V.—NO. XVIII. Ft 250 ANECDOTES ELUCIDATORY OF THE NATURAL HISTORY OF THE ERMINE WEASEL, (MusreLa ERMINEA, Linn. ). By Srr Oswaup Mostey, Barr., M.P., D.C.L. PERHAPs you may consider the following facts not unworthy of a place in your interesting periodical, inasmuch as they tend to illustrate the peculiar habits of an animal which is commonly doom- ed to the most unrelenting destruction, although possessed of some redeeming qualities, the promulgation of which might, perhaps, entitle it to our protection. During one of the severe winters with which we were visited some years ago, my attention was attracted towards certain patches of rough pasture, lately disclosed by the melting of the snow, beneath which they had long been concealed. I saw something approaching them, which, had it not been for its lively motions, I should scarcely have distinguished from the white scenery around. On drawing nearer, I discovered it to be an Ermine Weasel (Mus- tela erminea, Linn.), which had adopted its winter clothing. It was evidently in pursuit of prey, and the curiosity I felt to discover the object of its search, made me more cautious not to disturb its occupation. After losing sight of it a short time, I saw it emerg- ing from a tuft of grass with a Field Mouse ( Mus sylvaticus) in its mouth, and directing its course to a contiguous plantation. When arrived there, it quickly ascended a young Fir tree with its burden, and then as expeditiously descended without it. I continu- ed to watch the motions of the little animal amongst the dead leaves, which lay in heaps around, until an opportunity of catching it unawares, whilst the head and fore parts were concealed amongst the leaves, presented itself, of which I did not fail to avail myself. In vain did my little captive bite and struggle ; a strong pair of gloves and a firm grasp, effectually baffled all its attempts at escape ; and after striking my victim several sharp blows on the head, I was fully persuaded that I had accomplished my purpose of putting an end to its existence. Whilst I continued to carry it in my hand, it had all the appearance of being quite dead, but no sooner had it touched the ground, upon which I soon after threw it, than the hypocritical little creature at once found its liveliness and strength restured, and immediately ran off with the greatest agility. REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY, &c. 251 After I had recovered my surprise, I felt an anxiety to know what had become of the Mouse with which the Weasel had ascended the Fir tree. On climbing up it (the tree was at least fifteen feet high) I observed a small bird’s nest* towards the top, in which the Mouse had been safely deposited by its destroyer. Upon another occasion I perceived an Ermine Weasel in such close pursuit of a Rat that I had time to get my gun, and at one shot killed them both. Surely this species is capable of being tamed, and made practi- cally useful to mankind ; its propensities are the same as those of the Ferret Weasel (Mustela furo), and in its nature it is much more hardy and less liable to disease. Rollesion Hall, Staffordshire, Oct. 19, 1836. SOME REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. Il—THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. Ir is fortunate that the duration of human productions does not depend upon individual consent, or there would soon be nothing left to abolish: the appetites of mankind are so various and capricious, that unanimity of taste is as impossible as a verdict universally iden- tical is impossible with fallibility ; judgment must be fixed by majority ; we, therefore, reject the peremptory opinion of Mr. Up- ton, who denies the right of Shakspeare to this play, and are con- tent to be pleased in spite of criticism. This play is altogether a love matter, it begins and ends with love, the whole business and process of it is love ; Proteus, Valen- tine, Thurio, Silvia, Julia, all are in love. We feel it like an elec- tric battery playing round our hearts, as though the poet had written it with a feather snatched from Cupid’s wing. The first scene is laid in Verona. The two friends discuss, wit- * Probably that of a Goldencrowned Kinglet (Regulus auricapillus. ).— Eps. ad 252 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY tily enough, the difference of their fortunes. Proteus starts in love, a sort of tinder-box to beauty, who takes fire with the first ray of a bright eye. Valentine, as yet “‘ fancy free,” escapes Verona, ambi- tious to see the “ wonders of the world abroad.” Proteus would disuade him: “ Val.—Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus ; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits.” It is curious that Shakspeare should never have travelled, consi- dering the naturally errant inclination which he so often exhibits, and the value which a local knowledge of those places connected with his plays might have given him; he has, of course, for want of this knowledge, made several geographical blunders, especially that well-known one of making Bohemia a sea-port—it might have been known to him. He must have studied with some eagerness to supply the deficiency of travel. This first scene is full of verbal quibbles and puns. To condemn Shakspeare on the score of his puns and quibbles is common with those saturnine, self-important persons, whose dignity is superior to asmile. But is it not rather an excellence than a fault? being not only a peculiarity of the age in which he lived, but also common to every anterior and succeeding period? With the lower class of the present day, what is so frequent as those little jeu d’esprit, called puns, those diaphragmatic stimuli, The Elizabethan era of Latin and love, was celebrated for that euphuistical style of conversation which was always oscillating between the sublime and the ridicu- lous, the sober and the silly, and which those ‘ chartered libertines,” the “fools” of that day, tended to increase by their ceaseless ribal~ dry and jests. An ancient rhetorician delivered a caution against dwelling too long on the excitation of pity, for “ nothing,” he said, ‘‘ dries so soon as tears.” I have often noticed that ridicule and risi- bility never appear so easily excited as on the most melancholy oc- casions. Shakspeare’s plays are the phantasmagoric images of the world as it is—a magnified, but yet a perfect, portraiture. Those who cry out against “ plays on words,” writes Schlegel, as an un- natural and affected invention, only betray their own ignorance: with children, as well as nations of the most simple manners, a great inclination to this is often displayed.” In Homer we find several examples ; the Books of Moses, the old- est written memorial of the primitive world, are full of them; on the other hand, poets and orators, as Cicero, have delighted in them. AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 253 It has been thought injurious to the higher feelings to cross them with a lighter word; and hence Voltaire, that sardonic sceptic, observes that Hamlet “appears the work of a drunken savage.”’* John of Gaunt, in Richard IT., dies with a joke upon his lips.. The old man is visited by Richard, who inquires— “ What comfort man? How is’t with aged Gaunt ? Gaunt.—O, how that name befits my composition ! Old Gaunt, indeed; and gaunt in being old: Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast ! And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt ? For sleeping England long time have I watched : Watching breeds leanness; leanness is all gaunt : The pleasures, that some fathers feed upon, Is my strict fast—I mean, my children’s looks ; And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt : Gaunt am I for the grave; gaunt as a grave, Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.” Poor old duke! thy “ half-jesting’ upon death and grief would enforce more tears than the loudest lamentation ; ridicule is dis- armed at once by the veluntary contrasts of the poor old man: Such is the nature of life, and, in spite of all complaints, Shakspeare is right ; amid the deepest scenes— ** Yet so to temper passion that our ears Take pleasure in their pain, and eyes in tears Both smile and weep.” Goethe has ingeniously compared Shakspeare’s characters to watches with crystalline plates and cases, which, while they point out the hours as correctly as other watches, enable us, at the same time, to perceive the inward springs by which all this is accomplished. Proteus, bantered by Valentine for the folly of his love, replies— “Yet writers say, ‘ As in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all.’” This is true: love is the idol set up, not in the plains of Dura, but, as the sun, over the whole world, by that sensitive, empty-purse race of Parnassus. Like that fabled eastern bird which is nourished only by its own song, love lives in every thought, in every inspira- * What better could we expect from a Thersities—a serpent, whose wy weapon was his sting. 254 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY tion of the poet’s life. Song is the language of passion, and passion is the incubation of love. The poet’s deity is love, not, like the ancient lares, a visible appellative and domestic ornament, but an idol enshrined within the heart. This play contains little philosophy ; there is little to describe, for the mere inconsistencies of passion are inseparable from the person. Speed preaches better on love than all the metaphysicians in the world. Julia, the doating Julia, forsaken by Proteus, de- termines on pursuing him : “ Tue.—I do not seek to quench your love’s hot fire ; But qualify the fire’s extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. * Jul. The more thou dam’st it up the more it burns; The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know’st, being stopp’d, impatiently doth rage, But when his fair course is not hindered He makes sweet music with the enamel’d stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; And so by many winding nooks he strays, With willing sport, to the wide ocean. Then let me go, and hinder not my course : Ill be as patient as a gentle stream, And make a pastime of each weary step, Till the last step have brought me to my love; And there I’ll rest as, after much turmoil, A blessed soul doth in elysium.” This is quaint and comical, but might be advantageously applied. Compulsion and resistance are two of the greatest evils in propa- gating evils in the whole conduct of mankind. The child obeys when he should prefer, is compelled when he should be induced, resisted when he should be removed. The discovery of Valentine’s plot by the Duke is cleverly manag- ed—evasion was impossible: the Duke advises with Proteus in fa- vour of Thurio— Duke.—What might we do to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio. Prot.—The best way is to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent ; Three things that women highly hold in hate.” This aristocratic-looking passage may be a little offensive to timo- cratic eyes, for it is evident that falsehood is so associated with cow- AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 255 ardice, and. both with poor descent, that the latter unites with the two former into a sort of tri-headed monster. It is as certain that falsehood implies cowardice, as that poor descent means their here- ditary pre-inclination. When virtue was the correlative of title, then did poor descent mean something else. Applied to woman, this passage is beautifully true-— One natu- rally born to fears,” sexually timid, tremblingly sensitive, the dependence of woman is essential to love—a dependence which arises out of her nature, not her weakness, which exacts sup- port without solicitation, associates her happiness inevitably with her protector, and constitutes through life a reciprocal bond. But with ‘ falsehood” there is no confidence, with ‘‘ cowardice” no pro- tection, with ‘ poor descent,” or their pre-inclination, no hope ; and these three are one, and form the first element of love. The for- gotten Julia visits her lover in disguise, discovers his treachery, and forgives it. There is something most redeemable in woman’s love: however base and depraved the object of her passion, he becomes interesting, and we sympathize with her fondness; we feel that there must be a cause for that love—some better qualities and feelings which elicited it. Proteus is a villain, but we almost forgive him for the love of Julia. Sir Walter Scott, in that bold, masterly character, Bothwell,* by describing the packet of letters found upon him after his fearful death, gives at once a better mould to his history ; we look back to days lang syne, when the ferocious soldier was suscep- tible of softer feelings—we fancy him subdued with the sensibilities of love, and weeping over some fond, forgiving, heart-stricken girl. The love of youth is often a holy remembrance in age, and makes man proud under every change and condition of life. Little minds are incapable of passion ; they possess merely admiration : but where love is one collected, exclusive, inordinate passion, it gives an unapproachable elevation to the character, and a dignity of manner superior to rule. The play advances. Valentine becomes prince of outlaws, and saves his Silvia from the uncivil grasp of Proteus, “ that friend of an ill fashion,” who, craven-like, acknowledges and repents when too late to be a virtue, and is somewhat weakly pardoned by Valentine ; but love and generosity are equally uncensurable. Julia, poor — Julia! thine is the hardest lot ; for though love may blind the eye, if cannot “raze out the written trouble of the brain.” Thurio, good night ! See Old Mortality, vol. ii., p. 225. 256 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY IIL—THE MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR. There are some words, though not strictly onomatopeeial, yet seem to have arisen out of the appellative, without search or deri- vation ; as our words quick, giddy, glade, suck, comfort, glen, slow, slumber, &c., indeed nearly all the old Saxon words, to which our tongues seem organically adapted. Merry / the word sounds like fun. ‘“ Merry; gay of heart,” says Johnson. Merry, Merry Wives of Windsor! The title is the theme; our hearts dance as we read it—Merry Wives! Young men hope what old men fear ; but, Diana be praised! Englishwomen can be merry without sin. Sir John, the only man who ever made grossness a virtue—“ I shall think the better of fat men as long as I’ve an eye to make difference of men’s liking.” Slender is the very incarnation of cowardice, the personal antithesis of a lover, the true transcript of a simpleton—not fvol enough to pity, nor wit enough to despise, a thing to laugh at without offence, and to ridicule without cruelty. Nim and Pistol are nonpareils of humour. Mrs. Quickly, “I fancy I see her now”’—‘ Where, my lord,’—* In my mind’s eye, Hora- tio.” The merry wives are examples to all sober ones. ‘Sweet Anne Page,” she has brown hair, and speaks small, like a woman.” It is somewhat amusing to observe how the mustard-seed spirits of some men snatch a quarrel. Anne Page’s “ small talk’ has occupied some hundreds of lines, pro and con, whether the poet meant small talk or nice talk. * Mrs. Ford~Sir John? art thou there, my deer ? my male deer? Fal.—My doe with the black scut!—Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves ; hail kissing-comfits, and snow erin- goes; let there come a tempest of provocation, I will shelter me here.” How perfectly the character of this ‘‘ creature of bombast” is kept up with the “ Fatman” of Hen. IV. so completely resembling it. This boast to Mrs. Ford is the counterpart of the ‘‘ eleven men in Lincoln Green.” That potatoes are provocatives of love, is an old belief. The learned Brown does not mention this as one of the vulgar errors, in his Pseudodoxia Epidemica, though John Ayerton Paris, of digestive celebrity, puts such an hypothesis alongside with the lusty old proverb, ‘that ’tis good for the health to get drunk once a week.” Dr. Paris informs us that the supposed aphrodisiac quality of the potato arose from the circumstance of certain plants having ac- quired the names of others very different in their nature, but which AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 257 were supposed to possess a similarity in external character ; thus our potato (Solanum tuberosum), when it was first imported into England by the colonists in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, gained its appellative from its supposed resemblance to an esculent vege-~ table at that time in common use, under the name of the Sweet Potato (Convolvulus Battatas,), and which, like Eringo root, had the reputation of being- able to restore decayed vigour. Without disputing this point in the true Malthusian spirit, let us merely cast an eye over the lovely land of green Erin, which is little else than one great big potato bed, and remember that her population has increased, within a few years, from two to eight millions by starv- ing on potatos. If the worship of Venus were in vogue, we might change her appellative of Cyprian for Hibernian goddess ; when some Donnybrook deity, approaching her altar, “ mater seva cu- pidinum,” might offer up the first fruits of the soil :— “ Tllic plurima naribus Duces sancta:* fidisque, et resonantium Delectabere tibiwm Mistis carminibus, non sine baculo.+ Illic bis pueri die Numen cum teneris virginibus tuum Laudantes, soleis sine In morem salitim ter quatient humum.”—AHpor., Odei., lib. iv. The discourse of the fairies is full of soft compliment to loyalty. The “ garter’s compass,” honi soit qui mal y pense, sounds strange in fairy tongue—fempora mutantur. “ Evans.—Where’s Bede ?—-Go you, and where you find a maid That, ere she sleep, has thrice her prayers said, Rein up the organs of her fantasy, Sleep she as sound as careless infancy. Mr. Parker, in one of his admirable lectures, makes this striking remark, that “‘ dreams are indicative of disease.’ There is no doubt of this truth: that is, the dreams are so faint in a healthy person, that no ‘‘ remembrance is warranted.” The facts, also mentioned by Mr. Parker, of sounds creating dreams corresponding in ewes ter to the particular noise is equally remarkable : “ drums in his ears, Then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, Of healths five fathoms deep.” * “Subaudi fuma.” Herbe sancta is a synonym of Tobacco. + Baculo: an immetrical paraphrase of shillalah. VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2k 258 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY These phenomena Shakspeare seems perfectly, though wonder- fully, to have observed. How philosophical, how beautiful, how true !—“ Rein up the organs of her fantasy,” shut out the busy world, close up sensation, quiet as an infant’s sleep. » There is so much humour and good-nature in the catastrophe of this play, that we feel no pain for the penalty of poor Sir John, who, indeed feels no pain for himself; but retires, Parthian-like, with his face to the enemy ; while poor Sir Hugh “ makes fritters of the King’s English.” Caius, Slender, Page, all are done, “ their arrow hath glanced” and struck home. IV.—_MEASURE FOR MEASURE. “This play,” says Johnson, “ is particularly darkened by the pe- culiarities of its author.” Then is the ‘ darkness visible,” other- wise the remark arose from the Doctor’s candour that it was a darkness that was felt, and which many others have felt, without the honesty to confess as much. Though, as a whole, the play is — less compact, there are few more interesting, and none which con- tain more sublime passages. The plot is said to have been taken from an old tragedy of Promas and Cassandra, 1573. The Duke yields his power to Angelo for the ostensible purpose of enforcing certain laws which were unwhipped, abused. ‘That the Duke suspected the character of Angelo, and knew of the injuries of Mariana, appears evident. The disguise was assumed, the bet- ter to restore the one and punish the other. “ Duke.—Angelo, there is a kind of character in thy life That, to the observer, doth thy history Fully unfold: thyself and thy belongings Are not thine own so proper as to waste Thyself upon thy virtues, them on thee. Heaven doth with us as we with torches do, Not light them for themselves. Spirits are not finely touched But to fine issues.” . This is a fine comment on that kind of character which repudi- ating nature sets up a stern morality against all appetite, and which is secure until tempted. Goethe remarks that “he hated the man that had not the heart to commit some absurdity ;” and never was there a more profound philosophical remark. From infancy to age we are puppets to opinion, victims to the worst of all evils—the evil of propriety, that spy of conventional rule, which AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 259 extinguishes all spontaneity, and exchanges the natural out-pour- ing of love and delight for the niggardly use of a compelled virtue. Such is Angelo ; “ who scarce confesses That his blood flows, or that his appetite -Is more to bread than stone.” Claudio, condemned to death by Angelo, on his way to prison meets his friend Lucio :— * Lucio.— Why, how now, Claudio ? whence comes this restraint ? Claudio.—_From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty. As surfeit is the father of much fast, So every scope, by the immoderate use, Turns to restraint.” This is the sum of all hygeanic codes, and few there are but can offer a personal illustration. Lucio happily replies— “Tf I could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would send for certain of my creditors.” At the request of Claudio, Lucio seeks his sister, Isabella, and requires her to ask her brother’s life of Angelo. To the entreaties of Lucio she replies— “ My power! Alas! I doubt! Lucio.— Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the gooa we oft might win, By fearing to attempt.” A thousand persons might express an idea that, from its preva- lence, has grown into a proverb; but none other than genius could invest it with such a powerful apparition. When our doubts stand before us asa personal foe, we wrestle with and overcome them ; but when we consider our fears as a part of ourselves, we excuse the timidity, for a man cannot quarrel with himself. | Reading the eloquent arguments of Isabella before Angelo, we are struck with the pliability of her reasoning, assailing Angelo at first with generalities, next rising to the pathetic—the passionate ; bursting forth at last with an indignant spirit, she flashes her scorn and contempt upon him, but, withal, displaying the deep affections of her heart, toned down by the sensibilities of the sex. *. - & 260 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY “ Tsab.—Oh, it is excellent To have a giant’s strength, but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant. Lucio.—That’s well said. Isab.—Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne’er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer Would use his heaven for thunder: nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven ! Thou rather, with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt, » Split’st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, Than the soft myrtle ;— But man, proud man! Drest in a little brief authority ; Most ignorant of what he’s most assured, His glassy essence,—like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks befare high Peay ets As make the angels weep.” It would be well if reading and learning this speech were made one of our religious duties. Nothing is so fatal to injustice as satire and contempt—write it up in our courts of law, in our halls of jus- tice, in letters of gold by the side of the tables of the Decalogue. «As I read, I fancy Isabella with her contracted brow, her eye di- lated, her lip curled, her person, like “an embodied storm.” I see Angelo stand reproved even in his thoughts.—Angelo, subdued, re- plies—‘*‘ Why do you put these sayings upon me?” The impera- torial dost thou, is exchanged for the submissive do you.—Angelo’s soliloquy is a better sermon than all the homilies of the church. The fourth scene introduces us again to Isabella and Angelo: the whole scene is miraculously fine ; each line is a text of truth. Isabella’s previous reply to Angelo somewhat offends me: that she should scorn the proposal, that she should reproach and threaten the character of Angelo, is natural ; but to avail herself of this very proposed crime to save her brother, on the condition of her silence, is, indeed, ‘‘ holding a candle to the devil.” Act the third introduces Claudio in prison visited by the Duke, whose advice to Claudio is admirable; it is incomparably better than the soliloquy of Cato, though in style so simple and un- adorned. “ Duke.—Be absolute for death; either death or life Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life: It I do lose thee I do lose a thing That none but fools would keep ; a breath thou art, Servile to all the skiey influences.” AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE: 261 Of all the agents which assail the body none are so widely fatal as the atmosphere. The celebrated Montesquieu, who pursued the inquiry of climatic influence on both the body and mind, traces the peculiarities of nations to the influence of climate more than to any other cause. The climate of England, from its variability, is productive of the most fatal diseases. How many thousands yearly are victims to consumption! and, what is most melancholy, the evil springs even in the first element of life. With regard to the moral influence, we possess an advantage which does not belong to the cloudless skies of the east. Our world of clouds, with its thousand forms and colours, is alone in its grandeur, with all the magnificence of the ocean, it presents an ever-varying landscape. “ England, with all thy faults I love thee still ! My country ! and while yet a nook is left Where English minds and manners may be found Shall be constrained to love thee. Though thy clime Be fickle, and thy year most part deformed ~ With dripping rains or wither’d frost, I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, And fields without a flower, for warmer France With all her vines.” The climatic suicidical mania of the English has been hitherto pro- verbial, but France, of late years, has assumed self-slaughter as an accomplishment, and, like a dramatic hero, makes it a point of study to “die well,” Ifthe old apothegm of Solon be correct, the French are philosophers to the last :—‘‘ Dict beatus ante obitum nemo debet.” We shall find that poor Claudio did not much re- spect a “ perpetual honour :” visited by Isabella she makes known to him the condition of his pardon :— * Claudio.—Let me know the point. Isabella.—O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, Lest thou a feverous life should’st entertain, And six or seven winters more respect Than a perpetual honour. Dar’st thou die ? The sense of death is most in apprehension ; And the poor beetle, that we tread upon, In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great As when a giant dies.” This is physically false, but morally true. From man, in whom the nervous system is most perfectly developed, down to the polypi, the gradations are marked by a more and more imperfect nervous 262: REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY system. It is sufficiently evident that life itself depends upon the same principle in every living creature, and that what we term life, is known only as nervous energy, power, fluid, or element ; that sensibility depends on the same cause ; and that as instinct rises by degrees up to the highest possible point, so does the nervous system become proportionably developed, and that in reasoning man the perfection is accomplished. It is known that the sensibilities of one. differ from another, as the nervous or sanguineous systems are ascen-. dant ; that a particular class is muscular, another sanguineous, another nervous, and that their dispositions correspond. The abi- lity to bear pain differs in man and man according to sensibility : some persons of acute nervous sensibility are what may be termed physical cowards; they shrink from every species of danger: while others with an indifference almost stoica], provoke injury by every means. The same differences are observable in animals. Mode of life will particularly augment either disposition, so that the one shall become a timid effeminate citizen, while the other shall possess all the temerity of an ancient gladiator. The tenacity for life depends entirely upon these causes. Where there is a highly developed, acute- ly sensitive nervous system, there will be much suffering, and with that suffering a proportionable danger. Thus one man dies under an operation that another cares little for, and suffers less. With animals the same phenomena is observable: the proboscis of the Elephant is acutely sensitive, and of which the animal is peculiarly careful, always raising it above its head when attacking an ene- my. «As we descend to the polypi and meduse, the suffering is less, the tenacity for life greater; so that a “ scotched Snake will be herself again,” a lobster deprived of its claws will reproduce them. Thus the amount of suffering is wisely ordained to be as various in degree, as are the animals themselves in structure. Morally, the Poet is right, or otherwise this argument might be ad- duced as an excuse for cruelty— “TI would not enter on my list of friends (Though graced with polish’d manners and fine sense, Yet wanting sensibility) the man, Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. An inadvertent step may crush the snail, That crawls at ev’ning in the public path ; But he that has humanity, forewarn’d, Will tread aside and let the reptile live. The creeping vermin, loathsome to the sight, And charged, perhaps, with venom, that intrudes, A visitor unwelcome, into scenes AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 2963 Sacred to neatness and repose, th’ alcove, The chamber, or refectory, may die; A necessary act incurs no blame.” Nothing will better prove my allegation, that morally “ a beetle ‘suffers as much as when a giant dies,” than the argument of Bishop Hall, who in discussing the subject of an equality of happiness here- after, says—* Yet to conceive of these heavenly degrees that the least is glorious, so do these vessels differ, though all are full.” The amount is relative to the individual. A man feels more, abso- lutely, than a worm ; but not relative to the capacity for suffering ineach. The worm writhes and lives, but its sufferings are as great as they can be, and therefore does he feel, by comparison, as great a pang as when a giant dies. The poet here, by the bye, has, by choosing a giant, thrown the comparison to its utmost limit —Polyphemus to a worm. The discourse between Claudio and Isabella continues ; how na- tural is the vacillating feelings of a young, hopeful mind ;,oscillat- ing between honour and the dread of death. “ Claudio.—Ay, but to die, and go we know not where; To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot ; This sensible warm motion to become A kneaded clod; and the delighted spirit To bathe in fiery floods, or to reside In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice ; To be imprison’d in the viewless winds, And blown with restless violence round about The pendent world; or to be worse than worst Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts Imagine howling !—’tis too horrible ! The weariest and most loathed worldly life, That age, ach, penury, and imprisonment Can lay on nature, is a paradise To what we fear of death.” How mysteriously, ‘sublimely grand is this passage: therein is folded all the philosophy of life and death ; the hopes and fears of man, the essentiality of life: let us think awhile, for we have all a personal interest in the subject. The man who could read un- moved, these lines, is less than little—is worse than wicked,—*to die and go we know not where ;” death opens with a mystery—“ to lie in cold obstruction and to rot ;” death personified is horrible !— this sensible warm clay to become a kneaded clod ;” the life, the quick compelling nerves, the rounded form, the eloquent eye, the life, the 964 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY light of the world is gone—thus we leave the statue—‘ but the de- lighted spirit, to bathe in fiery floods—or to reside in thrilling re- gions of thick-ribbed ice,” &c. Shakspeare here must be half unintelligible to the generality of his readers, who, ignorant of the philosophy and erudition of the pas- sage, will lose half its grandeur. .The penalty of fiery floods, of course, is easily understood as taught by the doctrines of the church; but the punishment of cold That very elegant scholar, Falconer, in his great work on Cli- mate, remarks how religion is affected by climate :— The effects of climate are very discernible in the rewards and punishments pro- posed by religion for obedience or disobedience to its precepts. Thus, the promise of a land abounding with milk and honey was a reward properly adapted to a hot climate, and especially to the Is- raelites, who had been accustomed to live in a country where the former of these was particularly esteemed.”* What can be more voluptuous than the Mahommedan Paradise ?—a refinement upon the highest sensuality. The luxurious Asiatic promises himself a perpetuity of pleasure, without the satiety of sense; the Chinese sighs for nothing beyond an eternity of repose. Opposed to such dreams is the religion of the north: Zomalxis the Scythian and the Odin of the Saxons made heaven an illimitable forest, plenti- fully stocked with game ; their happiness was to be found in hunt- ing, military employments, and the joys of wine and company :+ the precepts and pleasures of active life constituted their heaven. In moderate climates, where civilization has ever prevailed, more rational and manly enjoyments have been promised as the hereafter rewards of virtue ; consisting of all those pleasures, physical and intellectual, to which the people have been attached on earth. Thus, in the sixth book of the #ineid, line 642 :— “ Pars in gramineis exercent membra paleestris Contendunt ludo, et fulva luctantur arena ; Pars pedibus plaudunt choreas, et carmina dicunt. Nec non Threicius longa cum veste sacerdos Obloquitur numeris septem discrimina vocum ; Jamque eadem digitis, jam pectine pulsat eburno.” Again, in the 679th line— * At Pater Anchises penitus convalle virenti Inclusas animas.” * The worship of the cow in Egyyt was, no doubt, a political law. + Herodt., lib. iv. ; Strabon, lib. vii. AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 265 Milton, in that sublimely awful description of Pandemonium and the employment of the fallen spirits, has gone infinitely beyond Virgil :— * Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, Upon the wing, or in swift race contend, As at th’ Olympian games or Pythian fields ; Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. Others more mild, Retreated i in a silent valley, sing With notes angelical to many a harp Their own heroic deeds, and hapless fall By doom of battle; and complain that fate Free virtue should enthrall to force or chance. Their song was partial, but the harmony (What could it less when-spirits immortal sing ?) Suspended hell, and took with ravishment The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet (For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense) Others apart sat on a hill retired, In thoughts more elevate, and reason’d high Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, Fix’d fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, And found no end, in wand’ring mazes lost.” We find the punishment, or the rew«, of every country, correspond- ing in the same way with the sufferings of earth. ‘In climates, where they are exposed to inconvenience from excess of heat, the increase of it has been suggested as the mode of future punishment. Thus Homer speaks of the Titans being chained on burning rocks, which was a torment generally promised by the religion of hot countries ; but in cold ones the contrary ideas prevailed.”* ©‘* The Hell, or Tartarus, there, was a place dark, cloudy, and destitute of food, and, above all, extremely cold, which was esteemed the most terrible circumstance of any, and from which the place derived its name and character. They gave it the name of Isaurin, that is, the Isle of the Cold Land, or Climate.”+ Milton, who, though he borrowed more, yet, from the value he added, owes less to the ancients than almost any author, has im- proved, perhaps, upon this idea of Shakspeare’s :— “ Thither, by harpy-footed furies hal’d, At certain revolutions, all the damn’d * Falconer. + See Smith’s Gallic Antiquities, p, 22. VOL, V.—NO. XVIII. 24 266 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY Are brought, and feel by turns the bitter change Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce. From beds of raging fire to starve in ice Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine Immoveable, infix’d, and frozen round, Periods of time ; thence hurried back to fire.” The vulgar will be vulgar still: hence the Hell of many a sim. ple, warm-hearted Christian, is only the exaggeration of bodily pain: nor would they pardon the blasphemy of supposing that the penalty of fire was metaphorical. Had we adopted the Nisthemi of our Saxon ancestors, instead of the Egyptian Hell, it would have been more poetical, though, perhaps, less dreadful. ‘This was a place consisting of nine worlds, reserved for those who die of disease and old age. Hela, or Death, there exercised her despotic power; her palace was anguish ; her table, famine; her waiters, were expec- tation and delay ; the threshold of her door was precipice ; her bed, leanness ;” &c.* The sceptic in religion may plead against the divinity of revela- tiont that the first principle of every religion—rewards and punish- ments—betrays an earthly rather than a divine origin, and which arises as much out of our selfishness as the fallibility: of human judgment. The procedure and judgment of the Creator is natu- rally predicted by the verdict of an earthly judgment, as our ideas of the character and attributes of the Deity are formed by the high est possible perfections of man, or as our idea of eternity is formed, by the extension of time, beyond which human comprehension can- not pass. Rewards to us would cease to be such, if there were no penalties, and the latter is as essential to mankind as the former: the thought of an hereafter penalty has afforded to the devotee no little of that satisfaction which his self-martyrdom seemed justly to merit ; for what becomes of self-denial, if the ultimate doom be universally the same? Earth teaches punishment, for such is inevitable with our inexperience and ignorance ; but in a more perfect and higher na- ture, suffering may not, perhaps, be a concomitant. Claudio continues—* the weariest and most loathed worldly life, that age, ach, penury, and imprisonment can lay on nature, is a paradise to what we fear of death.” This is infinitely finer than Hamlet’s soliloguy—more positively true; this is “ that pale cast of * See Mallet’s North. Antig., vol. i., p. 121. + The word revelation here does not apply to the Bible, which, of course, must be received has an exception to the above remarks. AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 267 thought” which Hamlet refined upon—it seems too good for Clau- dio ; such a fear of death is peculiar to exalted and deeply thinking minds. The celebrated Johnson could not hear the word death lightly pronounced ; in an instant the current of his thoughts was turned awry, and with an inward dread he would solemnly pro- nounce that sublime passage of Milton, for “‘ who would lose for fear of pain, this intellectual being.”* ‘The fear is not of death, but that uncertainty, which every mind capable of thought must, in spite of faith, sometimes dwell upon, the “ dread uncertainty of after death,” and, most horrible of all, the dread of annihilation, ** to lose this intellectual being.” After these inimitable scenes, the mind is relieved by the simpli- city of the Duke’s descriptions ; indeed, nearly the whole of the next scenes are incidental, humourous, and light: the duet of Lucio and the disguised Duke is highly amusing. — Fait Lucio— “ Duke.—No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure ’scape; back-wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong, Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue ?” This is a salvo for all the wounds which candour inflicts; for we are all kings in degree, and have, more or less, our royal liabilities. Act the fourth opens with a song by Mariana. Though Shak- speare’s rhymes are heavy, and more epigrammatic than delicate, yet in the occasional songs introduced in his plays I know of none in Anacreon more delicate and spirited.+ “ Take, oh take, those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn ; * “ Miss Seward—There is one mode of the fear of death, which is certainly absurd ; and that is the dread of annihilation, which is only a pleasing sleep without a dream. Johnson—It is neither pleasing, nor sleep; it is nothing. Now mere ex- istence is so much better than nothing, that one would rather exist even in pain than not exist. 'The lady confounds annihilation, which is nothing, with the apprehension of it, which is dreadful.”—See Boswell’s Life of Johnson. + The pleasures of the mind are so ascendant that the most illustrious men have sighed for a heaven of such enjoyment. Hence it is that we so readily communicate that happiness by a direction to the source of it ; hence it is that I here distinguish the name of Tennyson, whose beautiful Lyrics are less known than they merit: one of the most beautiful is taken from this character of our poet. Never was written a more impressive and fasci- nating poem than Mariana in the Moated Grange; the imagery is incompa- rable. - 268 REMARKS ON THE PHILOSOPHY And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn : But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal’d in vain, seal’d in vain.” Isabella’s pleading before the Duke is very fine ; first appealing loud for justice—the sense of her wrongs gives poignancy to her wit—she retaliates by the cutting irony of question— “is it not strange ? That Ani s a murderer ; is’t not strange ? That Angelo is an adulterous thief, An hypocrite, a virgin-violater ; Is it not strange, and strange ? Then she hurls down the truth at once, by the confirmation of Angelo’s guilt :— “ Isab.—It is not truer he is Angelo, Than this is all as true as it is strange : Nay, it is ten times true; for truth is truth To the end of reckoning. Duke— Away with her.—Poor soul, She speaks this in the infirmity of sense. Isab.—O prince, I conjure thee, as thou believ’st There is another comfort than this world, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion That I am touch’d with madness ; make not impossible That which but seems unlike: ’tis not impossible But one, the wickedest caitiff on the ground, May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute, As Angelo; even so may Angelo, In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, Be an arch-villain; believe it, royal prince, If he be less, he’s nothing ; but he’s more, Had I more name for badness.” These transitions and impetuous reasonings of Isabella are very grand ; our thoughts rush along with each successive change—we feel with her—we plead with her. * Puke— By mine honesty, If she be mad, as I believe no other, Her madness hath the oddest frame of sense, Such a dependency of thing on thing, As e’er I heard in madness.” AND OBSERVANCES OF SHAKSPEARE. 269 This “ dependency of thing on thing” is not only one of the most incontestible evidences of mental sanity, but of a highly-educated mind. It is this one faculty which distinguishes one mind from another—which at once characterizes the scholar and the clown ; it is the power to ‘‘re-word,”’ as Hamlet says—knowing the depen- dency, the relation must be the same. Madness gambols from me- thod, so does the undisciplined mind of the uneducated, unthinking boor: in both, the same aberrations occur, the difference is only in degree—the effect is the same, the cause only is different. Our ‘‘ myriad minded” bard must himself have possessed an absolute judgment ; his memory was the mere subservient virtue. Method confers on the soul a sort of divine prescience, by which every result is predetermined. Without method, a mind is either a gloomy wild, or a wilderness of sweets ; either destitute and dark, or confused amid the ungoverned exuberance of its fancy. The “ fine phrenzy of the poet,” the ravings of madness, or the ill-dependent relations of ignorance, illustrate the old proverb, that ‘‘ extremes meet.” I reluctantly leave this subject ; but it must be deferred until considering the character of Hamlet—or rather the biography of Hamlet, for the incidents of the play serve but to develop his mind ; all centres in Hamlet, every line seems like a ray of light converg- ing to one point. What a fine illustration of method is this speech of Isabella :— “ Tsab.—I am the sister of one Claudio, Condemn’d upon the act of fornication To lose his head; condemn’d by Angelo: I, in probation of a sisterhood, Was sent to by my brother: One Lucio As then the messenger ;— * * a * In brief,—to set the needless process by; How I persuaded, how I pray’d, and kneel’d, How he refell’d me, and how I replied ; (For this was of much length,) the vile conclusion I now begin with grief and shame to utter : He would not, but by gift of my chaste body To his concupiscible intemperate lust, Release my brother; and, after much debatement, My sisterly remorse confutes mine honour, And I did yield to him: But the next morn betimes, His purpose surfeiting, he sends a warrant For my poor brother’s head.” What a ‘‘dependency of thing on thing!” In a few lines is 270 ON THE CONNECTION OF compressed the beginning, middle, and end; every line is the di- rect transit to what follows. Let the reader compare this speech with the gambols of Mrs. Quickly, or the Clown, in the first act of this play ; the comparison is perfect. The play ends by the exposure of Angelo’s guilt, and reparation to the persecuted Mariana. The incidents are somewhat confused, and the sudden absence and re-appearance of the Duke as the Friar, seems awkward. Angelo’s speech fills up the measure of our dis- gust for his character. The determined and satanic villainy of Iago, is less offensive than the pusillanimous repentance of Angelo. It may be received as a truth, that a stern unforgiving rule is the weakest of all virtues. The wisest men are, ceteris paribus, always the most merciful, because their appreciation goes beyond the act. Z. ON THE CONNECTION OF PHRENOLOGY WITH PHYSIOGNOMY.* By J. L. Levison. Tue science of Phrenology is one based on observation and in- duction. Its professors assert that it enables them to decide on the number of the connate mental faculties, their relative development, and that it thus furnishes the means of ascertaining the probable cha- racter of any individual, or, in other words, what are his natural ten- dencies. On the other hand, the advocates of Physiognomy claim for their science, data for obtaining a correct knowledge of character; and they assert that its rules are also deduced from numerous observations on men and animals. It will, therefore, be the object of this paper to treat of the relative merits of these two sciences, and to point out the greater importance of Phrenology when compared with Physi- ognomy, and subsequently to prove that it is only when they are studied together that the latter assumes anything of value for prac- tical purposes. Physiognomy is but the outward manifestation of the mental fa- culties, and only really so when some strong feeling or sentiment communicates a particular action to the facial muscles, which, in * The substance of this paper forms part of one read by Mr. Levison, in 1827, before the members of the Hull Society for Phrenological Inquiry. PHRENOLOGY WITH PHYSIOGNOMY. 271 time, fashion the hard outline of the features. But when there is only a moderate capacity—that is, when there is nothing de- cided in a character—the face will then be a bad index to read, par- ticularly if we desire to understand the subject in a definite manner. The features, when in a quiescent state, can only furnish certain arbitrary rules to judge by, as all kinds of disposition, every variety of temper, and every modification of the intellect, are found associ- ated with similar typical forms of noses, mouths, chins, &c. I know a person with high mental qualifications, having features of a Roman cast, and another, equally talented and moral, with fea- tures resembling some kind of Monkey: The expression may be extremely similar in persons whose features are nevertheless very different. In these cases, the persons have invariably a similar cerebral organization, although they are unlike in the form of their features. Hence, in the science of Phrenology, there is considerably more certainty in our examinations than there is in Physiognomy, although both are interesting in forming conceptions of character. We have abundant evidence that there exists a general harmony between the features and the head, similar to that which is to be traced throughout the whole of the bodily organs of an individual ; there is an individuality in every organ. But how absurd would be the attempt to decide the mental qualifications of any one by his pe- culiar gait or stature, or by the form of the hand or arm, &c.! It is quite another thing when we have to judge by means of the ce- rebral organs: having ascertained their numbers and their func- tions, and how far the mental power is modified by the size of the whole brain, or its separate organs, under certain conditions,* we may be more accurate than by any other species of investigation. Our knowledge of the functions of the cerebral organs is as correct as the certainty of our knowledge of the functions of the eye or the ear. I now proceed to offer some proof of these statements. When there is anything like a definite character, the phrenologist cannot fail to recognise it; but the individual he examines may have na- tional or family features similar to many commonplace personages. These may be considered exceptions to physiognomical rules, but they prove that these rules are less to be depended upon than are the phrenological data. Suppose a person is examined with the base of the brain and back of the head (basilar and occipital regions) larger than the moral sentiments and intellectual faculties ; we * The modifications alluded to are the bodily constitution or tempera- ments. 272 ON THE CONNECTION OF could at once declare his tendency to animal and selfish propensities, and we could specify his temper and disposition: nay, all this could -be done without any inspection of the nose, mouth, or chin, &c. ; but, in most instances, I admit that these features would indicate what is called “an animal face,” though the most gifted disciple of Lavater would be puzzled to name particulars of such a person’s disposition, &c. | Or suppose the converse of the latter example :— the forehead ample, and the whole superior region much elevated, whilst the head, when viewed in front, presented it as narrow compared to the height. The merest tyro in Phrenology could, by mere manipulation, pronounce such an organization as indicative of great intellectual capacity and high moral perception ; and this without any previous acquaintance with the person examined, or any knowledge of his facial expression. Another proof of the superiority of Phrenology is the fact that, to obtain a correct likeness, the head must be a fac-simile. My at- tention was first called to the importance of this to the painter and sculptor from the following circumstance :—I had occasion to call on Mr. Higson, House Surgeon of the Hull Infirmary, when he pointed out a bust in plaster, and asked me whether I knew who it was like. I gave a hesitating answer, guessing it might be intended for his own, because the bust had a collar and white handkerchief round its neck, similar to the manner in which Mr. Higson himself used to wear them. On my exclaiming against it as a likeness, he supplied the following explanation: an Italian artist had taken his mask in plaster, which is a fac-simile of his features; but as he objected to have his head taken in the same way, the artist supplied “a fancy sketch,” giving him, instead of his own high and well- formed head, one extremely narrow, and rather of an amorphous shape: so that his most intimate friends did not know him, or even surmise that it was ever intended for him: he, therefore, dressed it in the manner described, and some, like myself, guessed geno our own ocular information. These and similar cases prove that the head is actually more im- portant than the features as a means for recognising a likeness, and to individualize a person it is still more so. The slightest depression or elevation of the eye-brows more or less than they should be, de- stroys the identity of a portrait ; in other words, a greater or less development of any of the perceptive faculties alters the intellectual character, and destroys the individuality of a person. If this be the case in the small group of organs which affect the form of the eyebrows, how much more so must it be when there is a greater REMARKS ON MUSEUMS OF NATURAL HISTORY. 273 elevation of the head than there should be, or too much depression of the superior region of the moral sentiments, or if the animal pro- pensities are rendered larger or smaller than in the original ! With these general introductory remarks I must, for the present, conclude ; many extremely interesting proofs of their general accu- racy are in my pesaahelien, and may be communicated at some future opportunity. Doncaster, Nov. 13, 1836. (To be continued ). SOME REMARKS ON MUSEUMS OF NATURAL HISTORY. By Joun Epwarp Gray, F.R.S., &c. Srayine lately in the neighbourhood of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I repeatedly visited the Museum of the Natural History Society of that town, and I was much pleased with the collection, and the ad- mirable state in which it is kept ; but I was more especially gratified with the liberality of the subscribers in throwing the Museum open, without the necessity of an introduction, or any charge to their fel- low-townsmen—a facility of access scarcely to be expected, except in a national establishment like the British Museum. The mu- seum of this society was formerly opened to all classes in an evening, when it was lighted up for the occasion; but the visitors who availed themselves of the privilege were so numerous, that it was impossible for them to inspect the collection with advan- tage. The committee, in consequence, was under the necessity of altering their mode of admission ; they now issue a certain number of tickets each night, which are sent to the workmen of the differ- ent factories in the neighbourhood, in rotation, for the admission of the holder and his family, or to such persons as make previous appli- cation at the institution ; a plan which has been found to give gene eral satisfaction. The anniversary meeting occurred during my stay in Newcastle, and it is characteristic of the liberality of the subscribers, that one of its members rose and inquired if the council had taken into con- sideration how increased facilities could be given for the admission VOL, V.—NO, XVIII. 2M 274 REMARKS ON MUSEUMS OF NATURAL HISTORY. of the public tothe museum. The collection of the Antiquarian Soci- ety, (which contain many very interesting specimens of art, deposited in another part of the building), is, also, in a like manner, open gratu- itously to the inspection of the public ; and I sincerely wish this liberality was more generally displayed in similar societies, as I firmly believe that, if such a plan were adopted, it would have the effect of increasing the funds of the institution, from the number of persons who would take an interest in its prosperity ; and the sub- scribers would have the gratification of knowing they were promoting the spread of knowledge, good taste, and feeling, among their fellow townspeople. This Society, besides setting so good an example to other institutions, has distinguished itself by the energy and scientific knowledge of many of its members, who have published papers in their T'’ransactions which may rank with productions on similar sub- jects in the Transactions of our metropolitan societies. Many institutions are open by an order from, or an introduction by, a subscriber ; but in most of these I have observed that admis- sion is granted on application to the Curator of the institution. At Liverpool, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Worcester, the museums are open to any visitor on the payment of one shilling, as in some of the proprietary museums which were formerly exhibited in the metropo- lis. But the Natural History Society of Manchester, as far as I am aware, stands alone for the exclusive conduct of its supporters. In my situation in the British Museum, I have had several requests made to me from residents in Manchester, to compare specimens of British birds, or other objects of the kind, with similar specimens in the collection under my care ; for the artizans of Manchester, like the weavers of Spitalfields, appear to be very fond of the various branches of Natural History, British Ornithology, and Entomology in particular. Some of these persons, who generally appeared to be workmen, stated, as an excuse for what they considered an intrusion on my time, that they, or their friends, could not make the conzpa- risons in their own town, though its museum contained a good col- lection of British birds, &c., as no resident was allowed to visit the Museum but members of the society, and that the members were elected by ballot, so that there was no hopes of their being admitted, even if they could afford to pay the subscription. I did not pay much attention to their complaints, and they entirely escaped my recollection. Being near Manchester last year, I passed through the town, on my road to London, for the purpose of examining the mu- seum. On asking my way to it of a gentleman whom I happened to meet in the street, he inquired if I had an order, as I could not REMARKS ON MUSEUMS OF NATURAL HISTORY. 275 otherwise be admitted. I stated my occupation, and observed that I had visited most of the British and Continental museums, and had never been refused admission ; I therefore did not imagine an order would be requisite. He assured me it was indispensable, and kindly offered to give me and my friends a personal introduction. Even. with these preliminaries, I must say that I was not prepared to see the following inscription painted in large letters on a black board, hanging from the door ; on reading which the complaints of my Manchester visitors immediately occurred to my memory ; it runs thus :— “T.—No gentleman residing within three miles of Manchester, not being a subscriber, can be admitted. ‘—without opening the bosom to the dove of peace? It were morally, religi- ously impossible to renew the unholy war after the truce: good feeling, even good taste, forbids the very thought. Thus will your Institution tend to abate the party spirit you deprecate: Advance, look not to the right or to the left, in your philosophical course. Listen to the ravings of party discord as to the storm without when all is safe, and calm, and warm within. You are labouring in a glorious spring-tide. This is your reward, although it may not be given to the youngest among you to see the harvest. Despond not —despair not. Yours is a high privilege, even to aid in sowing the 292 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. seed. Complain not that the sun which shall cheer the future reapers must shine upon your graves.”—-Mr. Charles Bray, in se- condirg the resolution, stated that “ the principles upon which the Institution was founded were well known to the public; it was known to be neutral ground, upon which all parties in religion and politics might meet for the study of science and in the search of truth ; where all sectarian feeling might be laid aside, and where that charity and benevolence might be cultivated which was the very essence of Christianity.” After alluding to another institution, of a somewhat similar character, recently established in Coventry, which he considered more in the light of an auxiliary than an op- ponent, as its object was to advance the cultivation of useful know- ledge, Mr. Bray very justly and eloquently remarked that “ the knowledge a man might acquire at a Mechanics’ Institution, (however much despised by those who did not advocate them) was sufficient to give a different face to the whole of nature, disclosing endless beauties of which the man who was deprived of it had no conception. What a different appearance did the spangled heavens, the starry night, present to him who was but acquainted with the very first truths in astronomy, knowing each bright point to be a sun, and justly conceiving, therefore, that it was the centre of a system as vast and splendid as the one we inhabit, and equally the mansion of life and intelligence: how different, he said, was this appearance to that which was presented to him who looked upon it but as shedding a feeble glimmering over this little world, or even, with the simplicity of the child, conceiving the stars to be ‘little gimblet holes to let the glory through.’ If we would teach reli- gion, it was here that its foundation might best be laid—it was here that the reverence and love due to the Father of all might be taught ; for it was here, as )r. Chalmers beautifully expressed it, ‘that the Divinity reigned in all the grandeur of His high attri- butes—where He peopled immensity with His wonders, and tra- velled, in the greatness of His strength, through the dominion of one vast and unlimited monarchy.’ The same effect that even so little knowledge had upon the face of the heavens it had upon the whole of nature ; every object became a source of pleasure and delight when we were acquainted with its properties and relations ; and this knowledge was now so systematized and arranged that it was of easy acquirement. How beautiful the truths that lie upon the very surface of the fields of philosophy! We know that the power (called attraction) that draws the stone and feather to the earth is the same that wields the planets in their spheres ; that, justly aw- ful as the lightning may appear, yet Franklin dared to send his kite into the clouds, aud bring it down to subject it to his analysis; that the ocean, slumbering and peaceful as a little infant, yet contains a power that, employed as Watt employed it, would be sufficient to rend in twain the universe. All departments of science revealed equal wonders and supplied equal pleasures—and pleasures, O! how much more pure and delightful than those proceeding from PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 293 mere animal gratification. Truly was knowledge ‘a magic wand, unveiling the face of the universe, disclosing endless charms, of which the ignorant never dream :’ the mind of every mechanic was equal to the acquirement of this knowledge ; and not the least important for him to know was that we had lately acquired of our own constitution ;* shewing the sources of our pleasures, and how admirably we were adapted to the circumstances in which we were placed, and to everything around us ; shewing that the laws of the intellectual and moral world were as fixed and certain as those of the physical, and that they all tended to the gradual advancement of our race in the scale of improvement and happiness: but most important of all was the knowledge, derived from the same source, that God had so ordered things that we could only be happy ourselves in proportion as we promoted the happiness of others ; that, as the first law of nature prompted us to take care of ourselves, this was best done by our adding all in our power to the enjoyment of every being possessing life and sensation. In conclusion, he would say, that he could not but regret that men could be found in the present enlightened age, who supposed such truths—the truths of natural science—which it was the object of Mechanics’ Institutions to sup- ply, could be in any way inimical to the cause of true religion, as if ‘ God’s ever visible and magnificent revelation, as displayed in his works and in the structure of the universe, could be at variance with any other revelation :’ that men could make a distinction be- tween religious and useful knowledge, as if the knowledge of na- ture, the beauty of creation, the wisdom and benevolent design dis- played in all its parts, were not the best foundation on which the enlightened minister, or those to whom the interests of religion were intrusted, could possibly build. No! we must all feel what Dr. Arnott so heautifully expresses, that ‘ it is not the abject terror of a slave which is inspired by contemplating the majesty and power of our God, as displayed in His works, but a sentiment a-kin to the tender regard which leads a favourite child to approach with confidence a wise and indulgent parent.’ ” The subsequent resolutions were proposed and seconded by Mr. Hands, Mr. Bannister, Mr. J. S. Whittem, Mr. White, Mr. Wre- ford, Mr. Hennell, the Rev. J. Sibree, Mr. Whitehead, Mr. Nan- kivell, Mr. Szyleyko, and Mr. H. Merridew, in very apposite terms ; but we regret our space will not permit our giving even an outline of their several addresses. The resolutions were carried unanimously, and the assembly, which was a highly respectable and numerous one, manifested a warm interest in the proceedings of the meeting. * [Alluding to a highly interesting and instructive course of Lectures “On the Physical Peculiarities of Man,” delivered by W. Watts, Esq., of Birmingham.—EpDs. | : 294 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. DONCASTER LYCEUM. This Literary and Scientific Institution rose into existence in December, 1834. A desire of union for intellectual purposes had partially manifested itself, at intervals, in the town; and a small degree of exertion was alone wanting to carry it into effect. Afew individuals consequently met, and a public meeting subsequently took place, at which the mayor presided ; when an introductory ad- dress was delivered by E. Scholfield, Esq., M.D., and the society established. A provisional committee having been nominated and a room engaged, on the sixth of January, 1835, the first general meeting of the society was held. . It was found that several of the most respectable residents, in- cluding the vicar and nearly all the professional gentlemen, were on the list of members: its stability was thus considered secure at the outset. Rules and regulations, previously drawn up, were submit- ted and adopted ; and presiding officers and a committee appointed for the then current year. The plan of this institution is comprehensive, and its views ex- tend to general utility. It has two subscription lists ; the one of annual members, at £1,—the other of quarterly, at 10s., in four payments; the latter for young persons and others, whose cir- cumstances demand consideration ; but, when admitted members, the privileges are equal. The admission is by written proposal and vote by ballot. The society is governed by a president, vice-presidents, and com- - mittee, elected annually. The presidents hitherto have been, the Rev. John Sharpe, D.D., and Henry Bower, Esq., F.S.A.; the vice-presidents, E. B. Denison and John Branson, Esqrs., and Dr. Scholfield. Its committee of twelve members are chosen six from each class of subscribers ; the treasurer and secretary apart ; and all by ballot. Ladies, on payment of 7s. annually, are likewise en- titled to attend the reading of lectures and papers. The proceedings have differed little from the ordinary course. Periodicals have been provided, and a library, commencing with do- nations, has been increased by purchase ; but it is not at present ex- tensive. Lectures, on various subjects of science and literature, have been delivered by members of the society ; and professed lecturers occasionally engaged. Papers have also been read and discussed ; and thus opportunities afforded of elucidating, by a comparison of opi- nions, subjects within the scope of its plan, from which politics and controversial divinity are strictly excluded. A common feeling has been eyinced of the advantage of a central place of communication, where men engaged in various pursuits or avocations, may unite for purposes of universal interest, the cultivation of knowledge, and the spread of refinement, although they may differ on,passing events and ordinary circumstances. A museum forms part of the plan of the institution ; but until of late, owing to the limited extent and insecure tenure of the pre- PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 295 mises occupied by the society, little has been done towards its for- mation. Within the last three months it has, however, made con- siderable progress. Many valuable donations have been made, in- eluding numerous beautiful specimens illustrative of Natural His- tory and Geology. A building-fund committee has recently been formed, and hopes are entertained that, with the aid of its friends and supporters in Doncaster, seconded by the liberality of the opulent and influential residents of its neighbourhood, another year will see the foundation laid of a building suitable to its purposes ; and this Lyceum become not only a centre of union for the most commendable and delightful of all pursuits, but also a repository of many beautiful and valuable specimens of the productions of nature and art. The officers and committee for 1835 were :—Rev. John Sharpe, D.D., president; Henry Bower, Esq., F.S A., and E. Scholfield, Esq., M.D., vice-presidents. Committee—annual members: Messrs. E. Sheardown, T. B. Mason, J. E. Morey, R. Storrs, C. White, J. Dunhill ; quarterly members: Messrs. T. Oxley, J. Hawley, G. Siddall, W. R. Scott, W. Illingworth, S. Appleby. Treasurer, Mr. C. Baker. Secretary, Mr. W. Wimberley. Officers and com. mittee for 1836:—Henry Bower, Esq., president ; Rev. Dr. Sharpe, E. B. Denison and John Branson, Esqrs., and Dr. Scholfield, vice-presidents. Committee—annual members: Messrs. W. Beckitt, T. B. Mason, R. Storrs, J. E. Morey, E. Sheardown, J. L. Levi- son ; quarterly members: Messrs. W. R. Scott, W. Illingworth, J. Hawley, G. Siddall, H. Beckitt, J. Stott. Treasurer, Mr. C. Baker. Honorary secretary, Mr. W. C. Wimberley. The lectures which have been given are :— On the best means of imparting practical science, by Mr. Levison—On hereditary disease, by Dr. Scholfield—On the lyrical poetry of England and Spain, by Mr. Wimberley—On the architecture of Greece and Rome, by Mr. Hadfield—On astronomy, by J. Abbott, Esq., B.A.—On the circulation of the blood, by Mr. Morey—On the structure and functions of the eye, by Mr. Storrs—On entomology, by Mr. Baker—On philology. by the Rev. J. Callaway—On general education, by the Rev. Dr. Sharpe—On the oracles of antiquity, by the Rev. P. Inchbald, D.C.L.—On phrenology, by Mr. Levi- son—An examination of phrenology, by the Rev. J. Bromley—On geology, by Mr. J. N. Mosby—On statistical science and its results, by Mr. Baker— On the philosophy of logic, by Mr. Callaway—On the spirit and influence of poetry, by Mr. Wimberley—On the nature and artifices of unjust and malignant criticism, by Mr. Abbott—On Hebrew poetry, by Mr. Mosby— On the rise and progress of the Italian language, and the poetry of Dante, by Mr. J. B. Testa. Papers on various subjects have been read by Messrs. Morey, Storrs, Levison, Mosby, Scott, Hawley, Stott, Siddall, H. Beckitt, Hepworth, H. Brooke, &c. In the early part of Oct. 1836, a discussion on Phrenology took place at the Doncaster Lyceum, Mr. J. L. Levison appearing as its advocate, and the Rev. J. Bromley, dissenting minister, Mr. Morey, Mr. Storrs, Surgeons, of Doncaster, and others, as opponents. The 296 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. usual oft-refuted objections of atheism, fatalism, &c., were brought forward by the anti-phrenologists on this occasion, but the charges were satisfactorily replied to by Mr. Levison, author of Mental Cul- ture, and who has done much for the diffusion of Phrenology, by his lectures on the subject, in various parts of England. Intense interest was exhibited in this discussion, by the enlightened inhabi- tants of Doncaster and its neighbourhood. We should much like to see a Phrenological Society established at Doncaster, apart from the interests of the Lyceum, and are convinced that it would be well supported. The general feeling of the town is certainly favourable to the science, and the spark only wants fanning to kindle into a goodly flame. MACCLESFIELD SOCIETY FOR THE DIFFUSION OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. Ar the first anniversary meeting of this Institution, John Brocklehurst, Esq., M.P., the President of the Society, on taking the chair, congratulated the members on the rapid progress the In- stitution had made since its formation, and concluded an animated address by requesting the Secretary to read the Report. The Com- mittee commenced the Report by stating that, notwithstanding much “unmerited obloquy and misrepresentation on the one hand, and indifference on the other, the Society had continued steadily to in- crease its members. ‘The Committee further express a hope that the number of those persons who desire to monopolize knowledge for a particular class of the community, and to prevent the working classes from sharing with them the delights of intellectual improvement, are fast decreasing; and that their senseless clamours about the evil tendency of learning, when pursued by the working man, will no longer be listened to as a truth, but be received as a gross libel, and fit only to be entertained by those whose sympathies are all expended within the limits of their own particular order and rank in society. The reading of the Report, which embraced a variety of topics, being concluded, the Rev. Edward Stanley addressed the meeting in a very energetic strain. In the course of his observations, the reverend gentleman said he was convinced by every day’s experience of the importance of such establishments throughout the country, but more especially in the great commercial towns, where every en- couragement should be given by all who called themselves patriots or Christians, in the wide and comprehensive sense of the term, to institutions whereby the minds of an important part of the commu- nity might be directed to pursuits which, while they enlarged and ele- vated them,combined, at the same time, rational amusement with uti- lity. If he had ever entertained the shadow of a doubt respecting the benefits likely to accrue from such societies, they would have been PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 297 utterly effaced by the interesting meetings he had witnessed during a late visit to the scientific institutions in Cornwall. There he found similar establishments.in full operation, under the best aus- pices, and with the best possible effects ; and he felt assured that, in proportion as they were adopted and supported in the dense po- pulation of this part of England, would they infuse that higher tone of morality and intelligence which forms so striking a feature in the corresponding classes of the community in the southern dis- tricts to which he alluded. He then proceeded to repudi- ate the charge brought against these societies of their having a political and irreligious tendency. He was grieved to say, these gratuitous falsehoods were but too commonly brought against insti- tutions which had for their object the rational pursuits cf more ex- tended knowledge, whereby the humblest individual might be raised in the- social scale of being—for nothing, he was persuaded, could be more detrimental, he might almost add, more ultimately fatal to religion, than any hint, more particularly if thrown out by those of his own profession, that there could be no safe union between re- ligion and the progress of mental cultivation and rational know- ledge. This he well knew was the doctrine of darker ages, when an over influential, and dangerously dominant and intolerant priest- hood were aware, that it was only by keeping their flocks in intel- lectual darkness that their influence could remain unshaken ; but amongst us of a more enlightened age of religious freedom, whose very claims and privileges depended so much on the acknowledged right of liberty of judgment, and a more liberal spirit of inquiry, such a sentiment ought not for a moment to be listened to. He concluded by wishing success to the institution, and expressing his earnest hope, that it, and every other similar institution, might be strenuously supported by all who wished to see their country pros- per, and more especially by christian ministers of all denominations, whether of his own or other churches or persuasions, who might by so doing incalculably advance the social and religious civilisation and reformation of society at large. The several resolutions having been duly proposed and seconded, the following officers for the ensuing year were then appointed :— President—J. Brocklehurst, Esq., M.P.; Vice-Presidents — Rev. E. Stanley, Thomas Swanwick, Esq., M.D., and William Hopes, Esq. ; Committee—R. Bagshaw, Esq., Messrs. Hulley, J. Sargent, John Shatwell, R. Wilson, J. Thorley, jun., D. B. Curwen, Ben- jamin Broome, G. Barton, J. Barber, C. Condron, J. Kelly, S. Hill, G. Simpson, Thos. Smith, and W. Wardle, VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. Qp 298 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. SHROPSHIRE AND NORTH WALES NATURAL HISTORY AND ANTIQUARIAN SOCIETY. A Scientific Meeting of this Society was held at the Museum, on the Ist November, Dr. Du Gard, V. P., in the chair, when the following papers were read :— «© On the Natural History of Coal, with Remarks on the Collier- ies of Shropshire,’ by Mr. Thomas Blunt. The author traced the history of this mineral substance from a very early period down to the reign of Elizabeth; during which the coal trade flourished greatly, and was regarded as a profitable source both of local and government revenue. From that time to the present day, this branch of our national commerce has been steadily progressing, and coal now forms an important article of expenditure in the support of our mer- cantile wealth, as well as of domestic comifort and convenience. Be- tween 7 and 8 millions of tons are annually consumed by our manu- factories and steam navigation, 3,550,000 tons in the iron works, and in the manufacture of gas in London alone about 500,000 tons ; add to which the immense consumption in the glass and pottery works, the amount consumed for domestic purposes throughout the kingdom, and the quantity exported, we shall find a total annual demand for this fuel of upwards of 32,469,570 tons. The resources from whence this immense demand is supplied, appear almost ex- haustless, and are comprised in the twelve principle coal-fields of this island, the most important of which are, the Northumberland and Durham, Yorkshire and Lancashire, Stafford and Shropshire, and the extensive one, as yet but little worked, of South Wales. These fields are geographically situated in the middle districts of the kingdom, and geologically in the lower secondary strata, gene- rally resting on beds of transition limestone, and occasionally co- vered by marl and red sandstone. The principal basin of the South Staffordshire field occupies an area of about 70 or 80 square miles, lying between Stourbridge, Birmingham, Wolverhampton, and Wal- sall. Adjoining this is the Shropshire field, including Coalbrook- dale, Ketley, Hadley, and the whole plain of Shrewsbury, compris- ing from 80 to 90 miles. The seams in these measures are of con- siderable extent, and in the main coal of Staffordshire some oc- cur 30 feet in thickness, being the richest in the kingdom. The coal mines of Shropshire are severally the property of the Marquis of Stafford, the Ear! of Bradford, and the Messrs. Botfield, and are principally let on lease to the different companies who work them. Those of the most importance lie on the eastern border of the county, in the parishes of -Lilleshall, Wellington, Dawley, Ironbridge, and Madeley. The upper “ Basset,” or inferior strata, are generally found at a depth below the surface, varying from 50 to 100 yards, and although not so rich in quality as the coal of the Staffordshire de- posits, are yet very superior to the produce of the mines in the cen- tre of the county, of which Welbatch and Westbury are the prin. cipal. These latter contain a much less proportion of bitumen, and PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 299 a larger quantity of earthy matter. Of the collieries in the west and north-west of Shropshire, the most considerable are those of Liwyn-y-maen, near Oswestry. There are also some mines of lim- ited extent on the borders of Herefordshire ; and the Clee hills, near Ludlow, contain on their sides two or three small detached basins. The vegetable origin of coal is now clearly ascertained. ‘The Dud- ley strata are entirely composed of distinct layers of plants converted into common bituminous coal. In the coal-fields of the north of England, cryptogamic vegetables and conifer abound in immense numbers. The fossil plants at present ascertained in the coal strata are esti. mated at about 500 species. The formation of this substance is still involved in uncertainty. It is conceived as probable that the coal-fields indicate the chief lo- ealities of the exuberant primeval vegetation, which being over- whelmed by a deluge, and buried in the valleys or friths and estu- aries under an immense torrent of mingled earth and water, charged with carbonaceous and mineral matters, would be subject to that pressure, moisture, reclusion of air, and confined moderate warmth requisite to produce their conversion into coal. To account for the exuberance of primeval vegetation, we must remember that these northern latitudes had the high temperature and moisture now found only in tropical regions. Coal, though enumerated under nearly 70 denominations, may properly be classed into three species. 1st.—The brown or wood coal, which is of comparatively recent geological date, and is parti- ally distributed, and in which the change from wood to coal is clearly distinguishable in the still existing vegetable fibres. 2ndly.— The black, or common pit coal, comprising the rich caking pit coal of Newcastle and other districts, including Shropshire and Stafford- shire. Carbon, varying from 50 to 60 or 70 per cent., constitutes the chief ingredient. 3dly.—The glance coal, found on the Conti- nent, the United States of America, and in small quantities in Shrop- shire and Staffordshire. Of this, many articles of taste and orna- ment are fabricated. Common pit coal, submitted to destructive distillation in an iron retort, obviously yields carburetted hydrogen, an aqueous ammoni- acal liquor, and a thick fluid resembling tar ; chemical analysis, however, resolves this substance into a greater number of elemen- tary bodies, all of which are gases with the exception of the carbon. The products above enumerated yield also several valuable articles of commerce, and in consequence of immense quantities of pit coal being distilled for the production of gas, the demand for the muri- ate and carbonate of ammonia is principally supplied from this source. Pure petroleum and limpid naptha are also obtained from the same materials, and even the soot yields valuable ingredients, to which it owes its efficacy asa manure. Thus, as Dr. Buckland justly remarks, “from the wreck of forests that waved upon the surface of the primeval lands, and the ferruginous mud that was 300 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. lodged at the bottom of the primeval waters, we derive our chief supplies of coal and iron, sources which contribute more than any other mineral production of the earth to increase the riches, multi- ply the comforts, and ameliorate the condition of mankind.” Dr. Henry Johnson read a short but interesting paper on the animal matter which he had obtained from portions of fossil bones in the museum of the society, extracted from the Bleadon Cavern, Somersetshire, and the diluvial gravel at Lawford, Warwickshire. A paper by Mr. W. A. Leighton, “On the Evidence of Design observable in the Vital Economy of the Colchicum autumnaie (Linn.), or common Meadow Sattron.” After detailing the pecu- liar structure of this plant, the writer deduced that there was abun- dant evidence of design manifested in the mode of its flowering, in the provisions made for its reproduction in case of the germen re- maining unfertilized, and also in the relative positions of the embry- onic bulb and the parent bulb. The following papers were subsequently read: * An Analysis of the Water of Sutton Spa, near Shrewsbury ;” ‘‘ An Historical Ac- count of the Parish and Church of St. Michael, within the Castle of Shrewsbury,’ by Mr. Henry Pidgeon; and ‘Some Account of a Tumulus between Rhoscolyn and Holyhead,” by Mr. T. C. Eyton. This singular remain is chiefly composed of about fifty stone coffins, placed in layers one above the other, each com- posed of one or more flat slates placed horizontally for the bottom, on which the body rests, with others for the sides and top. The interstices between the body and the sides of the coffin were filled up with shells of species now found on the shore, and the intervals between the coffins with sand. An examination of the bones deter. mines them to be those of adult males. The tumulus is partially destroyed by the sea, which has made evident encroachments on this part of the coast. There is a tradition, that the summit was crowned with a pile of stones, nearly all trace of which is now obliterated. Mr. Henry Pidgeon exhibited and presented to the society a leaden seal, once appended to a bull of Pope Gregory X. (who died 1276), found in an excavation made near an old house in Coleham, Shrewsbury, during the present year. On the obverse is GRE- GORIVS PP X;; and on the reverse, two full faces under a rude canopy, bearing in front a crosier, and inscribed above with the let- ters SPA S PE: meaning Sanctus Paulus, Sanctus Petrus. The General Annual Meeting was held on Thursday, Nov. 17. Dr. Du Gard, one of the Vice-Presidents, having taken the chair, delivered a brief and apposite address. After expressing the regret which he was sure would be felt by all present, at the absence of the President of the Society (the Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry) on account of indisposition, and briefly adverting to the objects and exertions of the Society, especially the desirableness of founding at this time, a proper building for a permanent Museum, he concluded by proposing, on behalf of the council, that Lord Viscount Clive (on whose public character and amiable disposition he pronounced PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 301 a merited eulogium) should be elected President of the Society for the ensuing year, which was seconded by R. A. Slaney, Esq., and carried by acclamation. The report, after congratulating the members on the general pro- gress of the society, and on the increase of its numbers, proceeded to state the income and expenditure of the first year of the society’s establishment, and next adverted to the numerous and valuable dona- tions to the museum. Major Wakefield had presented an extensive and fine collection of birds from Australia: about one hundred other foreign birds had been obtained by purchase or exchange, and many British birds had been sent to the museum by gentlemen in the county, which would form the nucleus of an interesting collection.— After mentioning the donations to the cabinet of entomology, by the Rev. F. W. Hope, Mr. Watkins, and Mr. T. C. Eyton, and the additions to the other branches of zoology, the report proceeded to notice the progress made in the botanical department by the dona- tions of Mr. J. E. Bowman, F.L.S., of Mr. W. A. Leighton, Mr. Babington, and others; and the instructive arrangement of the plants indigenous to Shropshire by Dr. Wilson. Mr. Bowman had also added to the society’s collection of fossil plants, and an interest- ing specimen, containing the remains of a new species of fossil fish, had been presented by the Rev. T. T. Lewis, from the silurian rocks in the vicinity of Ludlow. Among the donations to the library, that of the Rev. Canon Newling was particularly noticed, compris- ing the original copper-plates of a very rare work, Lister’s edition of Goedartius on Insects, 1685. Several works were noticed with peculiar pleasure as the productions of members of the society, par- ticularly that of Mr. T. C. Eyton on the rarer British birds; and a hope was expressed that the important geological discoveries and facts in natural history disclosed in the interesting extracts of Mr. C. Darwin’s letters from South America, would hereafter be given to the world more fully by their learned and diligent author. The erection of a suitable building for a museum, and the forma- tion of a botanic garden, was earnestly recommended to the atten- tion of the meeting, and a committee was appointed, consisting (among others) of the Viscount Clive, Earl Darlington, Hon. R. H. Clive, Sir Baldwin Leighton, Hon. 'T. Kenyon, Rev. Dr. Kennedy, Mr. Slaney, and other gentlemen, with power to add to their num- ber. The various resolutions were proposed and seconded by the Earl of Darlington, the Rev. B. H. Kennedy, the Hon. R. H. Clive, R. A. Slaney, Esq., the Hon. T. Kenyon, Sir Baldwin Leigh- ton, Bart., Dr. Goldie, and the Viscount Clive. The following were appointed the Officers and Council of the Society for the ensuing year: President— The Viscount Clive; Vice-Presidents — Thos. Du Gard, M. D., R. A. Slaney, Esq., T. C. Eyton, Esq., Rev. Dr. Kennedy ; Treasurer— Thos. Eyton, Esq. ; Secretaries—Dr. H. Johnson and Mr. W. A. Leighton ; Council—Mr. John Carline, T. F. Dukes, Esq., George Goldie, M. D., Mr. H. Pidgeon, T. Sut- ton, Esq., Mr. J. Whitney, Henry Bloxam, Esq., Mr. T. Blunt, 302 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. T. W. Wilson, M.D., J. E. Bowman, Esq., W. W. How, Esq., Rey. F. Thompson. The Earl of Mountnorris, the Rev. Canon Newling, of Lichfield, and Dr. Charles Hastings, F.G.S., &c., of Worcester, were unani- mously elected honorary members of the Society. The business of the meeting having been brought to a close, J. B. Williams, Esq., moved, and T. N. Parker, Esq., seconded, a vote of thanks to Viscount Clive, for his admirable conduct in the chair, which was carried unanimously. STAINES LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC INSTITUTION. In November, 1834, a few literary and scientific residents of Staines and its vicinity, fully sensible of the advantages to be de- rived by the formation of institutions for the promotion of science and literature, decided upon the establishment of a Society, which was opened January 1, 1835, by an able and eloquent address delivered by the Rev. Dr. Jones,* explanatory of the objects of the society, which was printed at the unanimous request of a crowded audience. It is gratifying to observe that the encouragement received by this body was mainly owing to the kindness of individuals in coming forward to deliver gratuitous lectures. Amongst the earlier lec- tures the following may be mentioned :—Opening address by the Rey. Dr. Jones ; on the Antiquities of Egypt, by Mr. Stackhouse ; on the Supporters of Combustion, by Mr. F. Curtis ; on Optics, by Mr. W. B. Byng ; on the Antiquities of Britain, by Mr. Stackhouse ; on Poetry, by the Rev. J. Hearn; on Geology, by W. M. Higgins, F.G.S. ; on Pneumatics, by Mr. Bennett ; and a concluding ad- dress, by the Rev. Dr. Jones. Stimulated by the brilliant success of the first season, which closed April 28, 1835, and animated by the cheering prospects for the future, it was resolved to erect a building for the use of the Institution, with a lecture room, library, and museum, at an estimated expense of £1000, in shares of £25 each. The committee found, with pleasure, the support they ex- pected realized ; all the shares were soon taken, plans for the build- ing were procured, and the present beautiful edifice was erected. The season was opened in the new building, on January 1, 1836, by a masterly introduction of the president, John Gibbons, Esq., and an address by the Rev. Dr. Jones, which was followed by many excellent speeches, from Col. Wood, M.P., G. S. Harcourt, Esq., and Henry Pownall, Esq. Rules for the guidance of the Institu- tion were subsequently framed, and are distributed gratis, upon ap- plication. The lectures delivered during the second season, ending * This address, with two others, likewise delivered by Dr. Jones before the same Society, have been printed in a separate form, and amply repay perusal._Eps. : PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 303 May 3, 1836, were—Opening address, by Dr. Jones; on the Ad- vantages of Education, by the Rev. E. Craig ; on Poetry, by the Rev. J.Hearn; Study and Advantages of Natural Philosophy, by W. Higgins ; on Heat, by Mr. W. F. Curtis; on Electrical Pheno- mena, by W. M. Higgins ; on Light, by Mr. W. B. Byng; on Painting, by the Rev. W. Russell ; on Pneumatics, by R. Smith, Esq. ; on Palestine, by the Rev. R. Porter; on the Eye (repeated by request), by J. N. Heale, Esq. ; on the Philosophy of History, by G. Bennett, Esq.; on Light, by Mr. W. B. Byng; on the for- mation of a habit of Scientific Inquiry, by the Rev. E. Craig ; concluding Address of the season, by Dr. Jones. To meet the con- venience of the neighbouring gentry, several of these lectures were delivered in the morning, all of them to respectable, and many to crowded, audiences. The officers of the society are as follows—Trustees, Rt. Hon. Sir W. H. Fremantle, Col. T. Wood, M.P., G. S. Harcourt, Esq., Rev. R. Govett, A.M., vicar of Staines, Henry Ashby, Esq. Presi- dent, John Gibbons, Esq. Vice-presidents, Rev. R. Govett, A.M., Rev. R. Jones, D.D., M.R.S.L., H. Pownall, Esq. ‘Treasurer, W. B. Byng, F.R.A.S. Committee, Mr. T. Ashby, jun., Mr. C. Finch, S. F. Davis, Esq., Mr. F. Ashby, Mr. J. Jackson, Mr. W. Hol- gate, jun., J. Dobinson, Esq., G. Bennett, F.L.S., Rev. E. Craig, M.A., F.R.S.E., Rev. R. Porter, Mr. H. Ashby, Mr. J. N. Heale. Honorary Secretaries, Mr. Curtis, Mr. Richings. The funds of this society are in a flourishing state, and its pros- pects otherwise cheering and encouraging. We sincerely hope it will continue to be supported with the same praiseworthy zeal which prompted its establishment, and trust that the library and museum will rapidly increase by the liberality of the inhabitants of Staines and its neighbourhood. WARWICKSHIRE NATURAL HISTORY AND ARCHAOLOGICAL SOCIETY. The first Quarterly Meeting of the members of this flourishing association was held at Warwick, on the 22nd of October, Sir H. Dryden, Bart., in the chair. The Chairman congratulated the mem- bers upon the success which had already attended the formation of the society, and the prospects they had before them of soon obtain- ing not only a most numerous list of subscribers, but also a most beautiful and valuable collection of natural curiosities ; and it af. forded him the greater satisfaction, since the pursuit of the sciences was a purely tranquil and contemplative one, and as such must meet with the increased consideration and support of the county. After passing a warm eulogium on Dr. Buckland, and expressing the high respect and admiration he felt for the talents and attainments which had enabled that eminent individual who sat near them to 304. PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. chalk out a new path of fame for himself, on his way to that high and honourable eminence, which in the estimation of his own coun- trymen and scientific foreigners, he justly occupied, he called upon the Professor to deliver his address. Dr. Buckland then rose, and congratulated the county upon the formation of the society, the talents of whose members would be ex- ercised upon untrodden ground, and whose exertions would be deeply and abundantly rewarded. Dr. Buckland remarked that the walls of Warwick Castle, the walls of the town, and the walls of the cathe- dral, were composed of strata till recently unknown to geologists. He saw them twenty years ago, but then he did not know what was their composition ; but still in his travels he had borne in mind the remains of the animals contained in that strata, in the hope that the time might come when the darkness in which those fragments were eclipsed, would be dissipated ; and when he should be able to make some important discovery to the scientific world. It was a matter of gratification to him that within the last two hours that darkness had been dissipated ; and he was now able to say that in Warwick,—under their feet,—and in Guy’s-cliff, there were the remains of many extinct species and genera of ani- mals, whose names were as yet unuttered in England. He then held in his hand the scales of lizards that were once basking on the shores of the lakes at Leamington; and there had been discovered in Leamington itself, the remains of other animals that lived in other times. He ventured to say with as much confidence as if en- dowed with the spirit of prophecy, for he knew from geological in- spection, and from example added to example, that under this town, Leamington, and the surrounding neighbourhood, were the remains of thousands of Elephants, of Rhinoceroses, of Tigers, of Buffaloes, and a variety of other animals which he could enumerate. But, would his hearers say, how did he know that? He was shewn that morning, at the house of Dr. Lloyd, at Leamington, the leg bone of a large Elk, or species of Red Deer, which he held in his hand, and which was then damp with the clay out of which it was extracted, and in which it had been so long preserved. From a shell which had been discovered in Leamington, also, he was satis- fied that, before the creation of the human race, Leamington was the site of a large and ancient lake, which, like many that were also in the neighbourhood of Rugby, became the receptacle of the dead car- cases of the Elephant, the Lion, and the Hippopotamus, which ani- mals were now only found in warmer climates. He had also the tooth of the under jaw of a young Rhinoceros in his teens, and as a proof that those animals once existed in this kingdom, he might sim- ply say that teeth did not grow without heads. If the workmen at Leamington were to be informed that the remains which they might discover were convertible into beer they would take great care to preserve them. He also saw before him a piece of granite picked up at Leamington, and which he knew came from Cumber- Jand. He knew well that this was a class of pebbles which were PROCKEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 305 scattered over the centre part of England by some vast inundation, and which were found sometimes in Staffordshire, and as far as Worcestershire, but which he never saw found in this neighbour- hood. It was not the general opinion now, us it was twenty-five years ago, when it was considered that these assertions were but theories invented by gentlemen in their closets ; but they were the result of sound and logical deliberation, and founded upon discove- ries and experience which none could dare to contradict. From his having made the discoveries he had at Rugby and Warwick, he should lay claim to a memorial right upon the land, upon the same grounds that the captain of a vessel planted his sovereign’s standard on a newly discovered island: he had shewn them his bill of fare, and in twelve month’s time he was certain the table of the Natural History Society of Warwickshire would be richly spread. As every father had a right to christen his own child, he should claim the privilege of naming the strata he had discovered—keuper ; a de- scription of earth which exactly corresponded with that at Wirtem- berg, the bottom of the Severn, and many other places in this coun- trv. When these remains are first found they should be cautiously handled ; they must not be extracted by a hammer, but carefully cut round with a knife, and when taken home would soon become hardened and secure. There'was also the arm-bone of a Rhinoceros found at Rugby, and he had no doubt that this was once a swampy climate fitted to the species of animals which, at some remote period inhabited this country. There was also extracted near this place the shoulder blade of an Elephant, which, upon the highest autho- rity, must have been sixteen feet high, and of course a much larger species than those now found in India. In New Holland, too, where only Oppossums and Kangaroos, and that species of animals were now existing, had been found the remains of an Elephant of an extraor- dinary size. The learned Professor made numerous other very enter- taining and able observations upon the various instances of the re- mains of animals which had been discovered, and which must have existed before the creation of the human race. He concluded the first part of his address by entreating the members of the Society to continue in the progress they were making, eminently important to the interests of science, not only in England, but throughout the world. Dr. Conolly then proceeded to read the Report of the Committee, which commenced by stating that the Society had its origin in a smaller association, of which the object was to investigate the claims of phrenology to be considered a true science of mind. The collec- tion of numerous casts, the preparation of skulls of several of the lower animals, and the accidental addition of some human skulls discovered in digging foundations where an ancient religious house was supposed to have stood, concurred, with other circumstances, to suggest to that Society the advantage of widening the sphere of their observations, so as to comprehend a fuller study of the struc. ture, functions, and habits of various classes of animals ; and the di- VOL. V.—NOo. XVIII. : 2a 306 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. rection thus given to their thoughtsled, by degrees, to the further extension of their views, so as to include the natural history of plants, and inquiries into the geological character of the neighbour- hood ; and for the accomplishment of these objects it became evident that the assistance of a larger society was requisite, which might give encouragement to all the branches of Natural History, in the most extended sense of the term. It was supposed that it might at least be practicable to collect materials for a complete account of the Natural History and Antiquities of Warwickshire ; and that in all probability materials might gradually be collected for a Museum of general Zoology, Botany, Geology, and Mineralogy.” The en- couragement received by the projectors of the Society at the preli- minary meeting in the spring, fully realized their most sanguine ex. pectations ; and the subsequent progress of the Institution has been highly satisfactory. The report, which was very ably drawn up, after alluding to the subjects of meteorology, statistics, and arche- ology, concluded by an assurance that the prospects of the Society may be declared to be of the most cheering kind, and that the Com- mittee entertain a confident expectation that Warwickshire will, in the course of a few years, possess a museum on a scale commen- surate with the wealth, liberality, and intelligence of the county. Dr. Lloyd commenced the Report of the Honorary Curators by alluding to the liberality of the members who had contributed so freely from their collections of natural objects. Among these may be mentioned a rare and excellently preserved fossil fish, from the Lias Lime quarries at Wilmcote, presented by Mr. Greaves, of Rad- ford. This fish was sent to Professor Agassiz, who determined it to be a new species of the genus T'etragonolepis and gave it the spe- cific name Angulifer.* A list of donations followed, which we re- gret we have not room to enumerate. On the conclusion of the report, the Chairman having requested Dr. Buckland to continue his interesting address, the learned Pro. fessor proceeded to give some lengthened and able observations upon the different strata of earths which had been collected by the vast eruptions of water, which had so often inundated this world before the creation of man. After recommending the science of geology as one which added strength, if possible, to the truths of revelation, and reading several extracts from the treatise he has lately published, the learned Doctor sat down amidst the loud and continued applause of his numerous and respectable audience. A vote of thanks was then proposed to Dr. Buckland, and Sir H. Dryden, and the meeting dissolved. * This beautiful fossil was figured in the 13th No. of the Analyst, with a letter from the learned Professor. PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 307 WORCESTERSHIRE NATURAL HISTORY SOCIETY. THE autumnal course of lectures of this Institution was opened by Dr. Conolly on the 4th of October. The learned physician commenced his lecture as follows :—‘* Addressing you in this new and elegant building, of which, when I was last here, I saw but the foundations laid, but which I have now the gratifica- tion to find advancing fast to completion, and consecrated to the noble purpose of promoting the great science of Natural His- tory ;—surrounded, as I am, by specimens of the amazing varieties of forms contained in the section of the universe to which our facul- ties are limited, and with which our physical existence is associated ; looking upon this scene, and upon these collections, so characteristic of an age of earnest and wide inquiry, in which philosophy, divested of vain aspirations, is brought from the clouds, dwells among men, and questions nature with diligence but without pre- sumption ; I cannot but reflect that the social institutions of each age are the durable monuments of its tendency and character ; that they enable us to see the direction given, at any specific period, to the exertions of human intellect and human feelings. “ Trecal to memory that in remote times they do but speak to us of the power exercised by the instructed few over ignorant masses of the people, and seldom for useful or imperishable ends ; and I contemplate with unspeakable satisfaction the more generous spec- tacle exhibited by the institutions of our own day, in which, neg- lected no longer, no longer consigned to all the miserable conse. quences of mental darkness, all ranks of society may be beheld, awakening from the sleep of ages, and exercising the highest facul- ties which the bounty of God has imparted to them, to produce ef- fects conformable to his large benevolence. - The remains of this age, the monuments on which the minds of posterity will most gratefully dwell, will surely be the memory of these and other great institutions of knowledge ; institutions not surrounded by the splendour reflected from arts of hostility and wide destruction, but adorned by the serener glories arising from the steady improvement of communities, for the ultimate good of all. “If I ever evinced any zeal in the cause of Natural History So- cieties—if on this spot I feel that zeal warmed and increased—it is not that I set an exclusive value on the dazzling collections which they furnish opportunities for displaying, but that I feel satisfied that such societies are really subservient to the highest efforts of the best and most enlightened minds for the improvement of society in general.” After giving a brief sketch of the progress of Natural History, and making some remarks on the encouragement at present given to its pursuit, Dr. C. made several observations on the formation and constitution of Natural History Societies, some of which we quote :— The Society which I have now the honour to address 308 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. presents so excellent a model of an institution for promoting a knowledge of Natural History, that I consider nothing would be more advantageous than that its regulations should be adopted in every county in the kingdom. By forming a Natural History So- ciety in every county, the interest of each county would be most conveniently centered in its own institution. One room, or one portion of every such institution, being devoted to the reception of objecis illustrative of the Natural History and Archeology of the county or district, the rest might be opened to contributions illus- trative of the same sciences in all parts of the globe. In this way each county might possess at least one collection, in which might be read the whole Natural History and part of the historical monu- ments of the county ; and as duplicates became multiplied, a central collection in London (in the British Museum) might present, if it does not already present, a view of the natural character of the whole island. Of each county a compendium of Natural History might also be drawn up, full of information useful to every class of the people. . ** Donors to such a museum, although not so munificent as they have proved in Worcestershire, would doubtless be found. Annual subscriptions would provide for occasional and judicious purchases ; and, even under circumstances unfavourable to the early formation of a large museum, asmall and instructive collection might be form- ed, which would be gradually enlarged into one of importance. The founders of such institutions must not limit their views to producing an immediate effect, but look forward to the results of the exertions of several years. Whilst opportunities would thus be afforded of estimating and improving some of the natural resources of the coun- try, another very great benefit might, and doubtless would, arise in some counties. In the neighbourhood of such a museum might be fostered the genius of some youthful naturalist, destined still fur- ther to explore some of the kingdoms of nature, and, like Cuvier, who began his labours with no greater advantages, to illustrate some yet obseure department, to confer honour on his country, and the blessing of more extended knowledge on mankind. “« Besides providing for quarterly and annual meetings, for com- munications and for regular lectures, it should be recollected that Natural History has yet been very little cultivated by general stu- dents in this country, and it should be a principal object in every society to assist beginners. Duplicate specimens should be collected whenever practicable, that one set might always be accessible to the learner, who often cannot learn without touching and mi- nutely examining the specimen. ‘The most immense collections are of little value when once they are considered as merely so many ob- jects to be gazed at, without being studied and understood. “It is also exceedingly to be desired that to each specimen there should be affixed its English name or familiar appellation, as well as its scientific denomination. No single cause has done more to repel students from different branches of natural science than the PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 309 profusion of hard names by which they are obscured. In most of the works on Botany this fault, or affectation, is so prevalent that they are utterly useless to the young or unlearned reader ; and the Floras and Introductions professing to familiarize the science, require vocabularies, or rather, it may be said, translations, to make them intelligible and instructive. «The value of plain demonstration, lectures, and of familiar and frequent explanations, is evident; and, when possible, vothing would tend so much to diffuse a love of geological or botanical science as excursions into interesting parts of the county for the purpose of examining on a large scale, or even of collecting speci- mens. The proper study of ornithology, also, requires opportunities of examining the habits, listening to the notes, and even watching the attitudes and manners of birds: this is even an essential preli- minary to putting up birds in a natural manner in a museum ; for we sometimes see nothing but the plumage of a bird recognisable, the body having lost its proportions, and the whole figure its proper character. To each museum, where practicable, should be attached a curator, or sub-curator, who would give practical lessons on the art of preparing animals for the museum ; teaching the best modes of skinning and stuffing quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, &c., and of pre- serving insects. Many valuable specimens are lost for want of knowledge of this kind. ‘The classification of objects is sometimes more clearly understood by the student from the inspection of a small than of a large number of specimens; a fortunate circum- stance where the collection is limited, and one that ought not to be forgotten where resources are more ample. _. “In addition to such large and expensive works as are not often found in private libraries, every society should possess several copies of the most approved elementary works ; as well as numerous maps and sections, both ordinary and illustrative of physical and geolo- gical geography. A correspondence might, of course, very usefully be instituted with some of the London and provincial institutions, and specimens exchanged, and facts communicated from time to time. Great facility for the latter kind of intercourse is now af- forded by at least two provincial publications of a highly respecta- ble character: the Analyst, a considerable portion of which is as- signed to country societies ; and the Naturalist, a work entirely devoted to Natural History. It is gratifying to me to be able to observe that both of these very useful works originated in Wor- cestershire.” Dr. Conolly’s recommendation, that the county museum shall be thrown open, under certain regulations, to the working classes, de- serves consideration. He expresses this recommendation in these terms :—* I would beg leave to say, also, that nothing would afford me more pleasure than to know that all such institutions, and espe- cially the collections in the museums, were open, at stated times, and free of expense, to the working classes of the people. If this were done by tickets at the disposal of their employers cr of the subscri- bers, every objection to it might, I think, be removed. Many of 310 PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. them are already fond of Natural History ; some of them have made surprising collections, and they have been observed to be par- ticularly interested in the more splendid collections made by persons enjoying the leisure, fortune, and opportunities which do not fall to their lot. To those who feel an admiration of natural objects, but who seldom can go forth into the great museum of nature, where the wild flowers bloom and the free birds fill the air with melody— and to all who are denied the amusement of travelling—access to a museum in which the rarities of nature’s workmanship are arrang- ed and displayed, offers a most welcome and an improving pleasure, in the place of pleasures which destroy health, independence, and comfort. It should not be forgotten that Linneus and other great Naturalists to whom science is deeply indebted, began their studies in poverty and obscurity. No philanthropy is more liberal and wise than that which increases the refined and innocent enjoy- ments of persons whose situation precludes them from all the daily and hourly pleasures partaken of by those in better circumstances.” A large portion of the lecture was devoted to shewing the inter- est belonging to the different branches of study comprehended under Natural History, and the facility with which very young students might be pleasurably engaged in such observations as form- ed the best ground-work of such studies ; drawing his illustrations from geology, botany, and zoology. The importance of meteorology was strongly urged in reference to the yet unknown causes of epi- demics. ‘The object of statistics—to which, until lately, very little attention has been paid—was thus spoken of :— “There is yet one great application of the faculty of observing which should be kept in view in every Natural History Society, as strictly belonging to the natural history of man. I mean the appli- cation of observation to the subject of statistical details. This branch of inquiry relates to all that concerns man’s worldly welfare, including his moral improvement. It is the science which teaches by examples how to preserve the life of the young ; how to secure good and abundant food and clothing and shelter to all; and how to give a safe and useful and profitable direction to human activity and energy ; to bring the propensities under the dominion of rea- son and religion ; to increase industry, virtue, and prosperity ; to preserve the health, the strength, the intelligence, and even the beauty of human beings; and to secure the enjoyment of many of these blessings to a good old age. It is therefore of all sciences the greatest in its scope and objects, and may be called the science of improving mankind. The information collected for this department comprehends the effects of different occupations, and of different lo- calities, on health and longevity, as well as on the manners and mo- rals of the people: and it may serve to shew some of the connexions of the different branches of Natural History, if I mention that the geologist, from the mere description of the character of any line of country, can pretty well understand what must be the productions, the pursuits, and even the general state of health of the inhabitants ; whilst the botanist and the entomologist would equally predicate a Es PROCEEDINGS OF PROVINCIAL SOCIETIES. 31] the plants there growing and the insects there abounding. Already have the details connected with this branch of inquiry communicated most important truths to all communities; as that life and death mainly depend on the prosperity of the circumstances which sur- round us; that the mortality of any given country, or town, or hos- pital, is regulated by the poverty or wealth, the knowledge or igno- rance, the misfortune or success, that there exert their influences on the minds of the inhabitants; in short that all the circumstances which tend. to shorten life are such as tend to make it miserable.” After making some remarks on the proper objects of archeology, and their close connection with the natural history of man, Dr. Conolly concluded his lecture by an appeal to the younger part of his audience, quoting numerous instances of the pursuit of Natural History under difficulties, and of the mental calmness and dignity resulting from an habitual study of the perfect works of the Crea- tor; and after alluding to the activity of the present age, both in the cause of science and of charity, concluded with these words :— «« Amidst these institutions for bettering the condition and improv- ing the faculties of mankind, we may always reflect with pleasue upon those of which the object, as of your society, is to unfold the wonders of the earth, to display the beauty of the vegetable world, to exhibit the various forms of animal life and enjoyment, to inves- tigate the properties and influences of the air, and to develope the causes of diseases and suffering, of misfortune, crime, and prema- ture mortality, in order that they may be avoided, and the happi- ness of all rational creatures increased: All these seem, in every way, the proper object of man’s contemplation ; the views they en- courage blend with those higher views which are directed towards another and more glorious world, wherein all that is beautiful in sense and affection, all that is great in intellect, may yet be found, but amplified and raised—where virtue will be enlarged, and where sorrow and pain will have no place—and, lastly, where the soul, purified and freed, may yet be occupied in the contemplation of the endless works of God, and find in that contémplation new motives for obedience, for thankfulness, and for praise.” YORK PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY. Tus institution has recently received a magnificent present from one of its members, George L. Fox, Esq., of some of the bones of the Irish Elk: it wants the bones of the hind legs, except one fe- mur ; but it has been mounted in its present state, and it is hoped that the hind legs will be procured at some future time. It is the largest specimen hitherto found, and was dug up on Mr. Foxs’s estate in [reland.. Some of the members of the Society have pro- posed furnishing it with artificial legs ; but we beg to enter our de- cided protest against marring so splendid a specimen of the work of God, by any admixture of human architecture. 312 CENTRAL SOCIETY OF EDUCATION. S1xTEEN years have elapsed since Lord Brougham, then a mem- ber of the House of Commons, called the attention of the legisla- ture and the country to the subject of the education of the working classes ; and although, from that time to this, little has been done towards supplying the deficiencies then, in a measure, discovered, one good has, at any rate, resulted; the minds of people have become habituated to the subject, and the idea that all classes of men should receive such an education as will fit them for perform- ing their duties as members of society, has almost ceased to wear — that badge of revolution—novelty. In a little while, John Bull may persuade himself that he is convinced, and he will then move towards the attainment of the object with all that determination, boldness, and liberality, which characterizes his other undertakings. The ridicule that was cast upon all who advocated the emanci- pation of the slaves, is still fresh in the memory of the youngest amongst us. ‘The common sense of England seemed offended at the mention of such an absurdity: but those who undertook to plead the cause persevered ; they knew that what they required was practicable, was reasonable, was right; and all that they had to do was to exhibit the subject, for a sufficient length of time, before the eyes of the public to convince it that such was the case. It is re- corded of Sir James Scarlett that, when once addressing a jury, he repeated the same argument over, and over, and over again. “What were you about ?” said one of his friends to him, when he had gained his cause, ‘‘ you repeated that argument, at the least, twenty times.” ‘Did you not observe,” replied the practised advocate, “that yonder stout farmer, to whom the rest of the jury greatly defered, was determined not to have a new idea put into his head against his own consent ? How sturdily he put his hands into his pockets! how I repeated my argument to him until he got accus- tomed to it—until I ascertained, by his countenance, that he said to himself ‘ Aye; that ’s just what I was thinking myself!’ I then knew that my cause was won.” The Central Society of Education, at whose head we perceive Lord Denman, has been or- ganized at a happy moment, for it has no longer the novelty of the subject to contend with ; and it may now apply its efforts to the consideration of the subject itself. ‘The Prospectus of the Society is now before us, and from it we find that it is proposed “ to col- lect, classify, and diffuse information concerning the education of all classes in every department, for the purpose of ascertaining by what means individuals may be best fitted, in health, in mind, and in morals, to fill the stations which they are destined to occupy in society.” The subjects for investigation are divided into five principal heads :—]. Primary education ; 2. Secondary education ; 3. Superior or university education ; 4. Special or professional edu- cation ; 5. Supplementary education. CENTRAL SOCIETY OF EDUCATION. 313 The first labours of the Society have, we have reason to know, been directed to the collection of facts respecting the actual condi- tion of the poorer population of a district of the metropolis. This it is now occupied in examining with the greatest accuracy, going from street to street, from house to house: not contenting itself with ascertaining merely the literary attainments of the children, but observing all those circumstances over which an individual has a control, and which, consequently, indicate with certainty the edu- cation he has received and the education he is in want of. The con- sequences of this inquiry will, we are led to believe, be most im- portant, as it will enable the Society to state precisely, in numbers, the exact quantity of particulars upon which its affirmations with regard to any general fact is grounded. The condition of the peo- ple, in a moral, intellectual, and physical point of view, in our large towns, is such that any statement with regard to it, other than such as the Central Society of Education is now qualifying itself to make, would be disbelieved. Those who only ride or drive through the wide and clear streets of our metropolis could not credit that the state of the mass is such as it is. An intelligent foreigner who visited England some time back said that, for his part, he could never see the poor, nor where they lived. From the newspapers we perceive that, in Nottingham, a public meeting has been held, and a society of education formed for co- operating with that in London, which has undertaken to conduct a similar inquiry to that which we have just mentioned in that town and neighbourhood. In other localities the same has, we trust, been the case ;* for we feel an assurance that the result of such in- quiries will form the strongest and most cogent argument in favour of national education, and the surest indication of what it should be. Of all branches of the inquiry which the society has proposed to itself, that which extends to the greatest mass is the most impor- tant, and to this we trust that it will, in the first instance, apply its undivided attention. If we might point out two or three points which stand out as prominent, we should enumerate, Ist. That of parents being unable to permit their children to remain at the schools for a period sufficiently long to derive full benefit from them ; 2nd. The incapacity of present masters ; 3rd. The funds for the support of schools ; 4th. The hands in which the power of con- trolling them should be vested ; 5th. Whether it is not justice to children and to the State to prevent parents from neglecting their education. The first of these, we are disposed to think, might be met by alternating study with profitable industrial occupation: experi- ments to this end have, to our knowledge, been tried, both in this country and on the continent, with some success. The second is, perhaps, the greatest difficulty which those who are anxious to * A Committee has been formed in Birmingham with the view of institu- ting a similar inquiry. VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2R 314 ST. JAMES’S ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. effect an immediate improvement in education have to contend with ; in fact, it is insuperable. Schoolmasters must be trained and qualified before any sound and extended system of education can be adopted with effect. How this can be best done, and what should be a schoolmaster’s qualifications, shonld be immediately inquired into. Upon the other three points we also entertain strong opi- nions ; we think that so important a business as national education ought not to be left to casual charity ; we do not think that each school should be allowed to receive the character which the caprice of a patron, the ignorance of a schoolmaster, or some other such acci- dent may chance to give it. While, with regard to the last point, we cannot but admire, and desire to see imitated, the enlightened policy of Prussia in this particular. For the present, we shall content ourselves with this brief no- tice of the society, with the intention of returning to a considera- tion of its objects and proceedings in a later number. The qualification for members of the society is one pound annu- ally, or one sum of ten pounds; and we trust that the friends of education will not hesitate to come forward to support it when they know that among the members of the Commitee are—M. De Mor- gan, the Mathematician—Mr. Lay, the late Editor of the Journal of Educalion—Mr. Ewart, M.P.—Mr. Hawes, M.P.—Sir C. Lemon, the President of the Statistical Society—Sir W. Moles- worth, M.P.—the Lord Advocate—Sir R. Musgrave, M.P.—Mr. W. S. O’Brien, M.P.—Mr. Porter, Vice-president of the Statistical Society—Mr. Poulett Scrope, M.P.—Mr. Shutt, M.P.—Mr. Ser- jeant Talfourd, M.P.—Mr. Parden, Librarian of the House of Commons—Mr. Ward, M.P.—Mr. Wyse, M.P., the Chairman of the Committee—and Lord Denman (who, in the House of Lords, said that for the State to havea right to punish, it must educate) is President. B.F. Duppa, Esq., is the Honorary Secretary. ST. JAMES’S ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. Tus Society is instituted for the purpose of forming a collection of water birds in the garden of St. James’s Park ; and its operations will subsequently be extended to the waters in the other parks, if the funds of the society be found sufficient. The first object will be to exhibit a complete collection of British Anatide, both resident and migratory. The Society already possesses a considerable num- ber of the desired species, and has, besides, some specimens belong- ing to other genera. It is intended to keep the whole, as far as practicable, in a state of nature, and the collection, being formed in the public parks, will, of course, be open to the view of every one. ST. JAMES’S ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 315 As there is in London no other exclusively Ornithological Society, it is unnecessary to point out to the Ornithologist the advantages which may result from an institution possessed of a locality so ad- mirably calculated for a collection of aquatic birds, and for afford- ing facilities for observations on the changes of plumage from sex age, or season, which are so interesting to naturalists, and so dif_fi- cult to be observed elsewhere. It is, moreover, to be hoped that the Society will not direct exclusive attention to the formation of a col- lection of aquatic birds, but that the members will take into consid- eration. the whole range of Ornithology, have meetings for the read- ing of lectures and essays, and for discussions on topics relating to the science. It might then, if well conducted, and with the addi- tion of a good library and museum, become one of the most useful Natural History Societies in existence. It is not, however, to the scientific alone that the Society appeals for support ; it confidently addresses itself to all lovers of the beau- ties of Nature ; to all who can appreciate the charm which the fea- thered race, the most beautiful portion of the animate creation, are capable of lending to ornamental water. To render the proposed collection worthy of the metropolis and the scene, will require a considerable expenditure, but the amount of annual subscriptions, (which are usually £1) is rapidly i increasing, and presents of aqua- tic birds continue to be received. The proceedings of the Society are sanctioned by the Commis- sioners of Woods and Forests ; the Earl of Liverpool is President ; and the following noblemen and gentlemen are amongst the mem- bers, who already consist of upwards of one hundred:—The Earl of Derby, the Earl of Orkney, the Duke of Northumberland, Earl Fitzwilliam, Sir J. E. Wilmot, Bart., M. P., Earl of Rosslyn, Lord Hill, Lord Melbourne, Lord John Russell, M. P., Viscount Sidney, the Revi E. Stanley, Captain Bowles, J. W. Childers, Esq. M. P., Dr. Horsefield, Edward Jesse, Esq., Rev. F. O. Morris, Robert Mudie, Joseph Sabine, Esq., William Swainson, Esq., (Hon. Mem- ber of the Committee), and William Yarrell, Esq. Donations of birds are to be addressed to the care of Mr. Baily, poulterer, Davies-street, Berkeley-square ; and communications to the Secretaries should be forwarded, post paid, to Robert Lemon, Esq., 6, Stafford-row, Pimlico, where also subscriptions are received. 316 YORKSHIRE INSTITUTION FOR THE DEAF AND DUMB. PuBuic institutions for the deaf and dumb have been supported in this country since the year 1792, when the Asylum in Kent- road, London was formed. Since that period, institutions have been established at Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool, Exeter, and Doncaster. There are, also, institutions at Edinburgh, Glas- gow, and Dublin. The institution at Doncaster was formed in 1829, for the instruction of deaf and dumb children of the county of York; but such children of other counties are admissible into it under certain provisions. It does not exist altogether on the gra- tuitous principle. The parents of every child admitted, or the parish to which it belongs, have to pay two shillings and sixpence a week towards its support, as long as it continues in the institution ; these payments are required to be made quarterly, and in advance. No child is admitted under nine years of age, none are suffered to remain after sixteen, and the term for which a pupil is allowed to continue is five years. Another class of pupils is also received, who pay £20 or £25 per annum ; the former sum if they reside in the county of York, the latter if they reside in any other county. The reason why a larger sum is charged to pupils from other parts of the country than Yorkshire is, that the institution was established entirely at the expense of the nobility and gentry of that county. In case of poor children of other counties being taken, £19 is allow- ed to be subscribed annually by residents in the county to which such children belong, £6 annually being paid by the friends of the child, or by its parish. The establishment is near the race-course at Doncaster—an airy and a salubrious situation. It was opened for the admission of pupils in November, 1829, and placed under the direction of Mr. Charles Baker, formerly the second master at the Birmingham Institution for the Deaf and Dumb. In 1831], the committee, in whose management the superintendence of the insti- tution is vested, agreed for the purchase of the whole premises, in a part of which the school had been commenced. This purchase was made at an expense of £3,000, and about £500 have since been spent in alterations. These premises consist of a house capable of accommodating nearly one hundred pupils, together with apartments for the master and his family, for the second class pupils, for private pupils, and for all the requisite assistants ; three acres of land are also attached to the premises. In 1829, fifteen boys were admitted ; in 1830, this number was increased to thirty-two—twenty boys and twelve girls ; in 1832, the number of pupils was increased to fifty ; in 1834, to sixty ; and the present number of pupils is 70—thirty- eight boys and thirty-two girls. The annual income, derived chiefly from voluntary subscriptions throughout the county of York, exceeds £1,000. ‘The payments on behalf of pupils, during the ' YORKSHIRE INSTITUTION FOR THE DEAF AND DUMB. 317 year ending April 1, 1836, was £550: so that there is every pros- pect of the benefits of instruction being extended to the full number of pupils the house will accommodate. The children are taught on Pestalozzian principles, which, being purely synthetical or inductive, are peculiarly applicable to the in- struction of a class of persons whose observations, however exten- sive, have to be reduced into language by a gradual process, be- ginning with the simple or elementary parts, and ascending by re- gular steps to those that are more abstract ; thus the unknown is founded on that which is known. The pupils are generally taught to read and understand ordinary books, and the power. of acquiring still further knowledge is imparted to them by the attention that is given to make them understand language; they are acquainted with the elementary principles of geography, arithmetic, and his- tory, and those who show a natural talent for drawing, receive les- sons in that art. Great care is also bestowed on their scriptural education. In addition to-their school labours, they are all trained to habits of industry ; the girls by being instructed in every depart- ment of household labour, sewing, making and mending clothes, &c., and the boys in those occupations usually performed by men-ser- vants, and in the different branches of gardening. There is also a work-shop on the premises, for those whose genius is mechanical. From the commencement of the institution to the present time, 121 children have been admitted ; fifty-one have left, entirely or par- tially instructed, according to the time they continued in the insti- tution, or their natural capacity for improvement. Many of those who have left school are pursuing various employments with credit to themselves, and to the satisfaction of their masters. The mana- gers consist of a head-master, a matron, two assistants, two deaf and dumb assistants, and a work-mistress. The honorary secretary is the Rev. W. C. Fenton, vicar of Mattersey. The following gentlemen, amongst others, were in the committee for the past year:—Sir W. B. Cooke, Bart., Wheatley Hall, mayor of Doncaster; E. B. Deni- son, Esq.; P. D. Cooke, Esq., Owston House; Mr. J. Branson ; Dr. Robinson; Dr. Hardy; Dr. Scholfield ; Rev. Dr. Sharpe, of Doncaster ; Rev. A. B. Wrightson, Campsall; and J. W. Childers, Esq., M.P., Cantley. 318 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. Geology ; with Remarks on Bishop Sumner’s Appendix to his work entitled “* Records of Creation.” By the Rev. R. Fennell. 1836. By a certain party considerable exertions are strenuously making, not merely to invalidate the theory, and neutralize the facts, ad- duced by Dr. Buckland in favour of the pre-existence of the globe: prior to the period alluded to in the Mosaic cosmogony, notwith- standing the intimation conveyed in the very words of the text in Genesis, that the earth was at that very time a mass of matter *‘ without form and void ;” but actually to undermine the character and detract from the merits of this respected and talented writer, by representing him as little better than an infidel. It is not our intention to enter into the wide field of argument connected with this question, but simply to shew, by referring to a work of one of his opponents, how far their reasonings may be depended upon by any unprejudiced and impartial individual who is anxious to ascer- tain on which side the truth really rests. That the reverend writer may have as little to complain of as possible from our criticisms, we shall, with but a trifling measure of note or comment, leave him to speak for himself in his own words. ‘ Of his capacity for undertaking the investigation as a philosophe or a divine, the reader will form a tolerable opinion from the very opening of his preface, in which he candidly says—‘‘ Of geology I know but little: I once endeavoured to understand something of its outlines ; but I soon found myself ina maze. It appeared to me to be a science of opinions, and scarcely one of those opinions could I find supported by two authorities!” A rather unfortunate con- clusion this, when it is evident to ninety-nine out of every hundred who ever lent their minds to the subject, that Geology is a science in the investigation of which its upholders pique themselves on Jacts, and not opinions. His powers for arguing the merits of the question may, in the next place, be estimated by another reference to his own words, for, with equal candour, he says, “ When I argued I was laughed at.” We hope, after this honest confession, that when he appears be- fore the public again, (as he assures us he shortly intends to do in a poem, with copious notes, astronomical, geological, and religious), he will, by a reconsideration of his objections, become a better rea. soner, and more capable of occupying the post for which he claims his fitness, in order to “ watch with jealous eye every approach against the citadel of divine truth.” In his present position he takes part, and assumes an unfortunate identity with a bird which, of all the fowls in the air, we are surprised at his choosing. ‘“ The cackling of a goose,” he observes, ‘‘ once saved the capitol ; and if CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 319 by shouting I can but rouse attention to the sappers and miners be- neath our walls, I shall be no ‘ vain babbler.’ ” So much for his preface, to which alone the above quotations re- fer. Now for his work ; in which he starts by assuring his readers that Moses “ tells us all that is necessary to be known of the crea- tion of the globe we inhabit.” This is, surely, not quite fair to Moses; for we have generally understood, on the authority of almost every biblical critic, that Moses told us very little relating to the physiology of the globe ; for this obvious reason—that he was writing for an entirely different purpose, addressing himself to the Jewish nation, who were not deeply read in natural philosophy, in order to instruct them on those points chiefly that had reference to the origin and moral existence of the human race. When Mr. F., therefore, speaks of the “ folly and presumption” to which geolo- gians have exposed themselves, we leave it to his maturer consider- ation, whether it may not strike him that a good deal of “ folly and presumption” ought not in equity and fairness to be transferred to his own quarters. If he would condescend to take a particle of advice from such humble authorities as ourselves, we would earnest- ly recommend him to erase from his next edition the following pas- sage :—‘‘ I must lay down my theology when I take up science,” since, for reasons which may not yet have come across him, but which cannot but most forcibly strike every one who has the most moderate power of reflection, this cutting asunder all relationship between Religion and Science may, at no very distant day, lead to some very disagreeable results, by no means favourable to the per- manent value or utility of that church itself of which he is no doubt a zealous and consistent member. In the next page he quarrels with the geologists for hinting that the earth was ever in a state of “ chaos” and confusion. ‘ Chaos,” with keen irony and a sort of Io triumphe, he observes, “ may be a classical term—but not, as he humbly thinks, a scriptural one.” Now, really, we do think, that were the terms, “ without form, and void” to be condensed into one word, the word above all others suit- ed to, and conveying the sense and meaning would be, unquestion- ably, chaos. We thought that not a single individual acquainted with the laws of motion acting upon fluids, remained to deny the geological position, that this earth must have been once in a fluid state. We were, however, quite wrong; the Rev. Mr. Fennell being of a different opinion, and to such a degree as to assert that “this fluid state would destroy the whole fabric of modern geology.” We re- frain, after such an assertion, to enter into any discussion on the oblate spheroidical form of the earth, which those who know any thing about mechanical science, admit as an unanswerable proof of the reverse of his position. The opinion forced upon us by almost every operation of Nature, that the Creator effects his purpose by gradual processes, marvellous to say, strikes him as absolutely he- retical and heathenish :—‘ I cannot divest myself of the idea that 320 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. there is something in the thought derogatory to the omnipotence of the Almighty, and, consequently, that it is impious! I cannot. bring myself to believe, but that books containing such unguarded expressions tend to disturb principles of infinitely more value than all the discoveries geologists ever made !” Many a true word we know to be frequently spoken in jest: our author may be cited as a case in point. “ If [ am not too obtuse,’ he sportively says, “ the geologists would have us to believe (what he is very angry with Bishop Sumner for believing too) that the creation recorded by Moses was a mere reformation ;” and then he becomes quite ironically merry, at their’s and the Bishop’s expense, exclaiming “ OQ! these reformers,” &c. And yet this severe anti- reformer—this anti-geological conservative—has his own little pri- vate trading stock of peculiar opinions, quite as startling to us as any of the assertions of his heterodox geologists. Thus, he flatly denies “that there were any carnivorous beasts previous to the deluge.” He does not seem to be at all aware what a serious scrape he may be getting into, by thus unadvisedly and boldly advocating the doc- trine of new or successive generations of animals adapted to times, seasons, and circumstances. As, however, this is his own affair, we leave him to extricate himself as best he can. Sometimes, notwithstanding his dislike to scientific solutions of difficulties, he, nevertheless, sets up for a philosopher, and explains obscure points: for instance, reminding us “ that the waters pre- vailed 150 days, and did not subside in much less than a year,” he infers that this was quite enough “to have reduced the then young earth toa pulp.” A pulp! That is to say, that mountains and masses of granites and rocks of all kinds and qualities were all melted into a pulp by the action of water ina year. And yet this Rev. Mr. Fennell would fain persuade us that he is a reasonable man, in whose Jucubrations the anti-geologians are bound to place implicit credit. Bishop Sumner has been so unadvised, it seems, in his admirable work on the Records of Creation, as “ to speak of a process,” as Mr. F. points out, “* by which our system was brought from confusion into a regular and habitable state.” Now we really thought we might believe his Lordship—not because he asserts it, but because Revela- tion itself tells us so, and experience proves it beyond all controversy ; “The court awards it, and the law doth give it ;” but no such thing: Mr. Fennell contradicts the Bishop zm foto, and roundly asserts that ‘‘ it never was in confusion—that all was form- ed smooth and perfect without change or gradation,” and that * Jofty trees arose from the earth in all their magnificence in a mo- ment of time,” &c. In the next page we find a still more extraordinary declaration, in which we quite agree with him in his definition of himself. The Bishop gives it as his belief, in his above-mentioned work, “ that no CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 321 rational theologian will direct his hostility against any theory which acknowledges the agency of the Creator, and only attempts to point out the secondary instruments he has employed.” What will the reader suppose is Mr. Fennell’s comment upon this? We defy him to guess. Neither more nor less than a confession of his own irra- | tionality. Hear his words :—‘ Most assuredly I am that irrational being!” After this we think it needless further to follow one who ** sees (we are no longer surprised, indeed !) no necessity for preci- pitation and crystallization” in the rocks, and chemical or mechani- cal deposit of the earth’s crust. As the world, he probably supposes, may be impatient for his promised poem, after such an exhibition of his prose, he kindly adds a few extracts by way of staying the appetite of public curiosity and impatience. As a specimen, we can only afford space for his reasons why no remains of human skeletons have been found: they are quite on a par with those we have quoted, and as satisfactory, no doubt to himself, whatever they may be to others :— “'They search for remnants of the human frame Amongst their fossil reptiles. Fruitless be Their search! Of dust was man created; And unto dust doth he return. Nor art Egyptian, nor alchemic nature, Shall preserve what nature’s God have given To the winds till the great final day.” Statistics of Phrenology ; being a sketch of the progress and presen state of that Science in the British Islands. By YH. C. Watson Small 8vo., pp. 252. London, 1836. Mr. H. C. Warson divides his Statistics of Phrenology into five distinct sections and a supplement; and in publishing this sketch he professes to be actuated by the hope of lending some small as- sistance towards accelerating the future advances of this branch of science. Section I. comprises an historical sketch of the progress of Phrenology, considered in respect to its reception by the public. Mr. W. begins his history with a notice of “Gall’s first lectures in 1796, with an account of Spurzheim’s first visit to England in 1814, and his proceedings there till the publication of his Physiog- nomical System in the following year. The progress of the sci- ence is then traced onwards to 1825, when Mr. Combe’s System of Phrenology appeared, and gave rise to a series of polemical discus- sions not very creditable to the principles and judgment of the writers by whom Mr. C.’s doctrines were controverted. This is fol- lowed by examples of opposition to Phrenology subsequently to 1825, while an animated view of its future prospects concludes the history. In the future prospects of the science, says, Mr. W., we find nothing to darken its brightened aspects; indeed, the onward glance shews everything more bright and hopeful. The men of VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2s 322 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. note, whose authority and power were opposed to it, are undergoing the lot of their race, while the disciples of Phrenology are becoming their successors, and will assuredly train the rising, and raise up the next, generation in the full and unprejudiced adoption of phre- nological views: in thirty years hence, anti-phrenology will be a subject for the historians of things that have ceased to exist. Section II. exhibits the present state of Phrenology, considered as a branch of science or philosophy. Its contents are—a definition of Phrenology, its leading principles, evidences and uses ; objections to it stated and considered ; suggestions for the study of it, for dif- fusing a knowledge of it, and for checking uncandid opposition to its advancement ; and comments on Mr. W.’s private correspond- ence. Secrion III. is occupied with an outline of the local diffusion of Phrenology, and includes a description of the steps taken to explain its principles in upwards of eighty different places. ‘The statements in this part of the book dre founded on replies to queries in a print- ed circular, addressed by Mr. W. to several gentlemen whose names are known in connexion with Phrenology. : Srcrion IV. is devoted to the literature of Phrenology, and em- braces chronological lists of phrenological and anti-phrenological works and writers; a list of persons giving testimonials to Mr. Combe and Lord Glenelg, in recommendation of the science ; and observations on anti-phrenological opinions, the list of which Mr. W. postpones “ in pity to their authors.” The two lists of testimoni- als originated in the following circumstances :—Sir George Stewart Mackenzie, Bart., having addressed a letter to Lord Glenelg, as Se- eretary of State for the Colonies, representing that great advantages could be derived from the use of Phrenology in classifying convicts, and soliciting a practical trial of the skill of phrenologists in predi- cating disposition from configuration of head ; but his lordship de- clined the proposal, on the grounds of his having no funds (which were not desired), and no faith in the science. Nearly at the same time, the professorship of logic, in the University of Edinburgh, be- came vacant, and Mr. Combe forthwith offered himself as a candi- date for the appointment. The certificates and testimonials in sup- port of Sir George’s proposal and Mr. Combe’s solicitation, were published simultaneously ; and, in Mr. W.’s opinion, they contain such a weight of personal evidence as must have greatly astonished the opponents of Phrenology. Section V. is composed of statistical estimates and summaries, relating to phrenological societies, works, authors, essayists, mu- seums and lectures. According to Mr. W.’s computation in aggre- gate numbers, there are twenty-four British Phrenological Societies now in existence, nearly one hundred writers on Phrenology, and one hundred thousand believers in the principles of that science. His Supplement is brief, and comprehends additional miscellaneous information obtained after his work was in the hands of the printer. From this view of his Sections, it may be inferred that Mr. W.’s CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 323 volume is calculated to afford much curious literary and philosophic entertainment. Mr. Watson disclaims all intention of having written his Statis- tics for the purpose of teaching Phrenology ; but it appears to him advisable to introduce a brief sketch, at p. 50, of what the science now professes to be, if regarded as a branch of philosophy. Accord- ing to him, Phrenology signifies the science of mind in connexion with the body ; and, in this limited acceptation, it differs from me- taphysics, which, as a term, has long been held to have the same signification. The former combines metaphysical reasoning with physical observation ; but, he says, a considerable amount of know- ledge on the subject, may be attained by the simple observation of physical facts viewed in conjunction with the actions of animated beings. In metaphysical reasoning, mind is discussing the work- ings and qualities of mind: hence, all expositions of Phrenology, into which such reasoning is introduced, are*tinted with the pecu- liar hues of the mind whence they proceed: allowance, therefore, should always be made for this by readers who, and writers as well, - are apt to mistake their own individual peculiarities for general rules or truths. Phrenologists do not inquire into the nature of mind: they limit themselves to observing the manner or laws of its communication with the external world. Some of them state that we cannot know the nature of mind: but, in Mr. W.’s opinion, this statement is true only in part ; for, he adds, we may know the nature of mind just as much as we know the nature of other things, analogically, not absolutely. Let him tell us, when and how this knowledge will be attained by man. - Mr. Watson says, that, under the general term of mind or mental manifestations, are included the instincts, feelings, and intellectual capacities of animals—brutes as well as human beings; and, that these instincts, feelings, and intellectual capacities are called facul- ties of the mind. Some persons regard mind as a single and inde- pendent existence, and consider the faculties to be either states of mind or else the powers with which it is endowed. Others look upon mind as nothing more than an aggregate or united whole, composed of the different faculties ; much in the same way that bo- dy is a whole composed of many different parts, such as the brain, nerves, muscles, bones, vessels, liver, lungs, stomach and other in- ternal organs. In the former view, according to Mr. W., mind be- comes almost synonymous with soul ;* but he cannot admit their identity, because this would drive him to allow the existence of a soul in brutes, since they are unquestionably endowed with mental faculties and perform mental actions. If the latter view be correct, * As a distinctive term, soul might be employed to designate that endow- ment of mind which is peculiarly human, and destined for a state of immor- tality : it consists of those moral sentiments and intellectual powers which are proper to man; and, what is remarkable, the cerebral convolutions, dis- covered by phrenologists to be the orgaris of these faculties, are entirely want- ing in the lower animals, even the most docile. : 324 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. men and brutes resemble each other in their minds almost as closely as they do in the structure of their bodies, and soul must be held utterly distinct from, and dissimilar to, mind. Now, he continues, neither of these opinions appears to admit of full demonstration: whichever is adopted as affording the better explana- tion of observed phenomena, the connexion between mind and body is still left a distinct and unsettled question. Respecting this ques- tion, two widely different views have prevailed: the one regards mind as a being or essence connected with the body, though capa- ble of having a distinct existence ; and, in this view, mind is said to use the material organs composing the body as so many instruments for fulfilling its wishes or commands. The other view considers mind as having no distinct existence, but as being the mere condi. tion or manifestation of functional activity in the brain, and there- fore inseparable from it. In the same manner, says Mr. W. (and he might have said more), sensation may be called a condition or manifestation of functional activity in the nerves, and motion may be said to bear the same relation to the muscles. We are further informed, that neither phrenologists nor others, taken collectively, adopt any of the preceding views ; they are always individual opi- nions. There are phrenologists who regard mind as a mere aggre- gate of faculties ; which faculties are the functions, or proceed from the functional activity, of the brain: and there are many other phrenologists who believe mind* to be a distinct and individual existence communicating with the material world through the me- dium of the brain and nerves, as so many instruments for manifes- tation. The same diversity of opinion exists among those who have not studied Phrenology ; and consequently, in Mr. W.’s judgment, the preceding definitions are to be taken as metaphysical and opi- nionative, and such as can in no wise interfere with the observed facts of his favourite science. Nevertheless, he concludes, it is a very important point to determine whethe mind is, or merely has, the faculties, and whether it is a being or a function. Phrenologists are quite agreed that all manifestations of mind di- rectly depend upon the brain; and this whether the brain be regarded as the origin or the instrument of mind: hence the brain is said to be the organ of mind, and the manifestation of mind to be the function of the brain. This, we are told, is the first principle of Phrenology, according to the usual acceptation of their science by phrenologists: but it is a proposition not at all peculiar to them, for * Man is a three-fold being, composed of body, life, and mind. Without life the body would be inert matter devoid of sensation and nutrition, and mind could not be known to exist ; and without mind the living body would bea mere vegetating formation, incapable of perceiving, thinking, willing, or moving, and, at the same time, undesirous of immortality. Now, all this being true, mind evidently is a distinct active essence, co-existent, co-rela- tive, and co-efficient with the body ; and, as is the case with light and heat, its existence is discernible by man only in the results of its actions and their manifestations. CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 825 it is received as an established principle, by almost all physiologists. That the faculties of the mind are manifested by different parts of the brain, and that each particular faculty depends for its manifes- tation upon ‘its own particular part of the brain, constitutes the second proposition of Phrenology. As the whole brain is called the orgau of the mind, so the particular parts of the brain are called the organs of particular faculties of the mind. Several distinguished physiologists still dispute this division of the brain into distinct or- gans ; but it is Mr. W.’s belief, that there is evidently an increasing tendency to admit its accuracy. The third phrenological proposition is, that, when health and other circumstances are alike, the facul- ties are powerful or feeble in manifestation according to the sizes of their organs—size being one measure of functional power. Some few physiologists yet refuse to recognize this doctrine: but a close correspondence between size of organ and power of functional mant- festation being found to pervade the whole organic frame, analogy decidedly supports the phrenologists and those other physiologists who agree with them in regarding this to be a law of Nature—a rule, says Mr. W., without exception. Phrenologists consider these three fundamental principles as fully proved by a multitude of facts, and confirmed by manifold analogies. It is a well-known fact, that the heads of brutes differ much from the heads of men, and similar differences of shape or proportions exist, also, in their brains. Such differences, however, are observed, not only between the different species of animals, but also between individuals of the same species or race: thus, the forehead and fore part of the brain are always proportionally smaller in the brute creation, than they are in human beings; and, amongst men, some have the greatest bulk of brain in the front, and others have it in the back part of the head. From the fact, that the power of manifesting each particular fa- culty corresponds with the size of the particular part of the brain constituting the organ of that faculty,it must follow that the differ- ently proportioned brains are attended with corresponding differ- ences in the power of manifesting the faculties. While reason infers this position, Mr. W. avers it is also proved by thousands of observed facts. Hence it is, likewise, that different dispositions and talents are exhibited by animals and by individuals having differ- ently proportioned brains; and this explains the curious circum- stance—which remained inexplicable previously to Gall’s discoveries, that the talents and dispositions of individuals differ widely, even from earliest childhood—-why one child evinces a decided talent for music, but is a dunce in learning languages, while a second is a capital linguist, yet has uo talent for drawing or music; why one is rough, and another is gentle ; and why character is as diversified as the form of the head. Now, seeing these differences of disposition and talent depend, for their manifestation, on the size or proportions of the different parts of the brain, we obtain an easy key to the real dispositions 326 . CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. and talents of individuals, provided we can ascertain the shape of the brain during life. On examination, Mr. W. tells his readers, we find that there is a very close resemblance between the shape of the brain and that of the skull, in human beings; and, that the skull itself corresponds in shape with the outside of the head: con- sequently, there is little difficulty in estimating the shape or pro- portions of the brain, in living heads. Between the brain and the ex- ternal shape of the head, however, the correspondence is not quite perfect, and therefore there is some difficulty in the way of correctly ascertaining the natural dispositions and talents of individuals by looking at the external shapes of their heads. For this reason, it behoves phrenologists to make themselves acquainted with the parts of the head where such differences usually occur, and also with their usual extent ; and, possessed of this knowledge, they can easily make the requisite allowances when looking upon a living head : se- rious mistakes will seldom occur, excepting with respect to that portion of the brain which is situated behind the lower part of the forehead.* Phrenologists estimate the size of organs by examining the proportions or comparative size of different parts of the skull or head, as representing those of the brain which constitute the organs of the different mental faculties: and, in their language, cerebral development signifies the absolute or comparative size of the brain and its parts. Development differs more or less in every individual head ; and, in extreme cases, the differences amount to inches, so as to be readily discovered; but, in many instances, it is difficult to say which of any two organs is the larger. By careful observation of extreme cases, the functional manifestations of faculties and their organs have been ascertained, and the cases of more equal develop- ment corroborate and explain the primary conclusions. Thus, Mr. W. affirms, the mental faculties absolutely depend upon material organs for their manifestation ; and, like all other textures of our frames, these organs do not admit of entire change at will: hence, dispositions and talents are innate and will defy all attempts at. change, excepting within the limits allowed in the material organs by which they are manifested. Mr. Watson goes on to say that, besides the differences resulting from the size of the brain and the proportions of its parts, the natu- ral dispositions and talents of men seem to be greatly influenced by the quality of the brain, and probably by that of the whole frame. There are no fixed rules for judging of the quality of the brain, he thinks ; but it is supposed to be indicated by certain empirical signs. This doctrine seems somewhat singular in coming from a medical philosopher and a phrenologist: the qualities both of brain and of body may be ascertained by the self-same rules which enable us to judge of the qualities of medicines and the qualities of organic func- tions ; namely, by attention to the relations of concomitance and causation. Mr. W. regards the comparative or proportionate de- * See Analyst, vol. iii, p. 43. Oe ae CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 327 velopment of the different parts of the frame, elementary constitu- ents as well as compound organs, as the most probable cause of tem- perament or constitution. . The temporary state of the brain and body materially modifies the manifestations of the mental faculties, particularly when the size of their organs is nearly balanced. It is stated further by Mr. W., that the exercise of the faculties increases the functional acti- vity of their organs: it improves their power and energy, but it does not otherwise change them. On the other hand, when the faculties are too little exercised, their organs become weaker: but when they are too much exercised, their organs become irritable and unhealthy, and the constitution of the whole body is then in- jured by the unhealthy state of the brain. Precocious children usually die in childhood, or lose their talents through being encou- raged to overstrain their brains ; and, through being forced to do so, dull children are often seriously injured. Again; the organs are stimulated into activity by external circumstances ; but often they become involuntarily active from an internal cause—as an increased flow of blood to the part. This, as Mr. W. observes, is an import- ant fact, which ought to be well known and ever remembered by moralists, divines, parents, teachers, and physicians. He thinks it probable that exercise or activity of the cerebral organs increases their size ; but whether it does this to the extent of altering the original configuration of the skull, after puberty, seems yet very doubtful. He is quite certain, however, that particular forms and qualities of brain are hereditary ; and, although the laws of here- ditary descent are unascertained, yet there is a presumption that the organs predominantly active in the parents, will be the most developed in their children. And this much we give to afford a glimpse of the “‘ philosophy of Phrenology.” Mr. Watson seems to have taken extraordinary pains to make his Statistics of Phrenology alike comprehensive and accurate. When under the influence of particular inspirations, he is sometimes amus- ingly oracular ; but, throughout the work, his talents and principles appear to great advantage ; while his literary character is beauti- fully distinguished by a vigorous straight-forwardness of purpose, and a devoted veneration of philanthropy and truth. Anecdotes and Annals of the Deafand Dumb. By Charles Edward Herbert Orpen, M.D., Member of various British and Foreign Societies, and Secretary of the Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, at Claremont, near Dublin. Second edition. London: Tims. 1836. Post 8vo., pp. 626. Ir establishing schools and colleges for the instruction of ordinary children is of such importance, and the necessity of arriving at the best and surest means of enlightening them and rendering them fit to mingle in polite society, as is now universally acknowledged, so 328 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. — indispensable, how infinitely more incumbent is it upon us to pro- vide institutions for the education of those of our fellow-creatures whose unhappy lot it is to be deprived of the powers of hearing and speaking. When we consider that in Britain alone there are at this time many thousands of deaf and dumb persons; when we remember that, perhaps, one tenth of these are uninstructed, and consequently wholly ignorant of the existence of the Deity and of a future state, shall we imagine it an affair of no moment to draw these wretched beings from the brutal state in which they must otherwise live and die! But the fact is, that few persons ever be- stow a thought on these their unfortunate fellow-creatures ; and, being unaware of the frequency of the malady, do not reflect on the evils necessarily consequent thereon, witheut the lights of education, In Ireland, the deaf and dumb population amounts to four thousand, and only one hundred and twenty of these are educated. What then can become of the immense majority that must be as the beasts of the field! The misery caused by the mere abstraction of the powers of hearing and speaking is comparatively of slight impor- tance, when contrasted with the utterly uncultivated condition of the deaf and dumb. Having never enjoyed the pleasures of con- versation, this may not be felt by them so great a privation as it na- turally appears to be to us; but how awful and terrific is the idea that they will first become aware of the existence of God when they shall be summoned at the last day to appear before his judgment seat, whence there shall be no appeal. When all these matters are taken into consideration, it is surely not too much to say that it is the duly of every one, according to his ability, to give substantial evi. dence of his willingness to aid the benevolent institutions establish- ed in various parts of Europe and America for the education of the deaf and dumb. Let those who yearly spend their thousands and tens of thousands on racing, gambling, and other vicious and demo- ralising sports—to which too many are driven solely from the want of some rational employment, and with the view of killing time— follow the bright example of the Abbés de L’ Epée and Siccard, and turn their attention to the education of the deaf and dumb, or at least provide schools and instructors for the purpose. Then, indeed, they will be “ useful in their day and generation ;” and when their mortal body shall be shrouded in the cold clay, their memories will still be cherished and revered by succeeding genera- tions, when ages shall have passed over their tombs, and when, but for this true patriotism, their names would long since have passed into oblivion, unremembered and unregretted. We have given our readers some idea of the frequency of this distressing calamity ; we have mentioned the exceedingly small number of those which receive instruction ; and we have alluded to the expediency and necessity of adopting some means of alleviating their misery: we shall now proceed to shew the awful effects which may be, and frequently are, the result of leaving the deaf and dumb, but more especially females, ~ORITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 329 uneducated. For this purpose, we shall extract an anecdote related by Dr. Orpen, which we do with the more satisfaction, as the lady who communicated it wished it to be made as public as possible. “ When Miss —— resided with her brother, in the Parish of —~, (of which he was rector), they had a neighbour, a gentleman of handsome for- tune, whose eldest child, and only daughter, was deaf and dumb. Miss used every argument with this gentleman that humanity, parental feeling, or christianity could dictate, to send his daughter to London, to the person who taught Lady ——’s daughter, that she might be taught to read and write, as the only means of making herself acquainted with God,* or Christ, or moral duty, or a hope of immortality ; adding, that if he did not do so, it required no spirit of prophecy to foretell the dangers that must surround her when she grew up. ‘The father replied, that it was sufficient punish- ment for him to have to feed and clothe a creature who could never be of any credit or comfort to him, and whom he could not look to seeing genteelly married, without incurring further expense for her; and that he considered she would be a heavy burden on him and on his sons after him; vowin that he would never do more than feed and give her covering; always end- ing the argument by wishing her dead. This girl, even when a child, was uncommonly beautiful, engaging in her manners, most obliging and affec- tionate, and highly grateful for any little attention shown her ; and, not- withstanding her father’s severity, was endeavouring, by each little endear- ment in her power, to win his love; but he continued to hate the sight of her, calling her his curse. As her mind was an uncultivated waste, she could not endure to be alone; and naturally seeking for some social circle, she turned from the frowns she received in the parlour, to the smiles and kindness with which the servants always treated her in the kitchen, where her efforts to assist them and relieve their trouble, her ingenuity in makin herself understood, and her readiness to acquire all that they could tench her, combined with her sweet temper, gained her the utmost compassion and kindness that they had the power or the liberty of bestowing. Each servant, however, was laid under a strict injunction to prevent her being seen by any person who visited at the house, and, also, not to tell any one that there was such a being in existence. The constant repulses and unkindness of her father, at last forced her to make the kitchen her home. Miss » whom she loved so much, continued to visit her, and to exhort the servants to be fond of her, and careful of one who, under the awful privations of speech, hearing, language, society, education, and revelation, was ignorant of God, and consequently had not the consolation of religion to support her under her father’s cruelty, and who had been bereaved of a mother’s tenderness and care at three years of age. This young lady grew up a lovely, graceful, interesting girl to her seventeenth year, when her father discovered that she was with child, and flogged her severely. He then summoned up the but- ler, footman, coachman, and gardener; and with threats and imprecations that he would have the life of the man who had brought this disgrace upon him and on his sons, compelled each of them to take an oath declaring their innocence respecting the young lady’s situation. From this period, she was more strictly concealed than ever, and her father affected to pity her; but so unconscious was she that sin or shame was attachable to her state, that she would sometimes make a doll, like a baby, with her kerchief, and kiss, caress, and clasp it to her bosom ; and then signify, with a joyful counte- nance, that she was looking forward to the delight of fondling and nursing a living baby. It was observed that, from the time she became very large, her father staid within doors ; and one morning, on finding herself extremely ill, she naturally went to her only parent, her father, and clasping him in her * It must be evident to every one who reflects on the matter at all, that the uninstructed deaf and dumb have no idea whatever of the existence of an Almighty Power.—E ps. VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2D 330 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. arms, gave every indication of excessive suffering. He took her by the hand, led her up to his room, and desiring her to go to bed, instantly left her, and, locking the door, seated himself outside it. The poor creature, terrified at finding herself locked in, with no one to pity or assist her, thundered at the door and screamed so violently to get out, that the four men-servants and four women-servants, rushed up: stairs; but their prayers and tears, that some one might be admitted or called to her relief were all in vain: her father denounced instant vengeance against any one who should ap- proach. Her groans were echoed by the useless sympathy of the servants outside the room. At length her cries became fainter and fainter, till, at the end of two hours, they ceased entirely. A pause ensued: her father then rose, and Ay the servants, gave them the key and went down stairs. On unlocking the door of the chamber, they found the poor young woman lying on the floor, quite dead, and a fine infant boy lying beside her, dead also. With one voice, they exclaimed, that had she been taught to read and to understand the Scriptures, she never would have been in this state; but no one ever warned her that she ought not to be a mother and unmarried.” Nor is this a solitary instance of the evil resulting from leaving the deaf and dumb to the course of Nature. Dr. Orpen’s Annals and Anecdotes abounds with cases in which the worst of consequen- ces ensued, as might indeed be expected. But the above extract is sufficient to point out the necessity of educating these unfortunates. It appears, from the Doctor’s evidence, that at every vacancy which occurs in the institution to which he is Secretary, there are fifty or more applicants for admission ; numbers of these have been candidates for years and years ; and as pupils are not allowed to enter after a cer- tain age, hundreds must pass the time of life when it would be pos- sible to educate them, without relief: and until the funds of the various schools shall be considerably augmented, this must necessa- rily be the case. Having thus given our readers some faint idea of the state of the uneducated deaf and dumb and their prospects, let us now investi- gate the manner in which Dr. Charles Orpen has fulfilled his task. The author is founder of the Deaf and Dumb Institution at Clare- mont, Glasnevin, near Dublin ; and all the time and money which he could spare, seem to have been dedicated to this truly useful and benevolent purpose. His book consists of a collection of anecdotes concerning the deaf and dumb, and the correspondence of the pupils in various schools, intermingled with original observations of his own. ‘These latter at once prove the talent, judgment, and enthu- siasm of the author in his subject. The style is pathetic, occasion- ally eloquent, and in every case admirably adapted to the topic un- der discussion. A decided spirit of piety pervades the whole vo- lume, and this spirit is, in general, not carried too far. It appears, however, to be the settled opinion of Dr. Orpen, and likewise of the instructed deaf and dumb at the Claremont school, that their hapless lot is to be considered a “‘ dispensation of Providence”—a most erro- neous and pernicious doctrine, and one which cannot be too much deprecated. Dr. Orpen must be well aware (although he has no where alluded to the circumstance), that deafness—in common with all other deformities—is the result of an infringement of one or CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 331 more of the physical laws on the part of the parents ; that this is the case, has been well shown by Dr. Combe, and is in a manner proved by the frequent cases in which a number of .deaf-mute chil- dren are born to the same parents. The omitting all notice of this fact is, we conceive, one of the weak points about Dr. Orpen’s book. We had hoped, on opening his work, that he would have come to some definite conclusion respecting the most frequent causes of the disease, which his profession would have given him abundant oppor- tunity to have ascertained. This is a most important subject ; be- cause, supposing the cause to be discovered, it would surely be bet- ter to prevent, as far as possible, the occurrence of such evils, than even to educate the deaf and dumb already existing. For although it is perhaps not in the power of mortal man ever entirely to eradicate the disease, very much might doubtless be effected amongst the poor by the physician and the country gentleman, each watching over the welfare of his own parish. However, as the deaf and dumb population does at present form so large a proportion of our nation, Dr. Orren’s book will be of inconceivable service ; first, in pointing out the misery of the uneducated deaf and dumb ; and secondly, in mentioning the means of remedying these evils. His Annals will awaken a lively interest in the cause of these persons, in the breasts | of thousands who had before scarcely known the existence of such individuals, and will conquer the aversion expressed by many to their being instructed at all, and likewise to the methods of instruc- tion now adopted. It has been urged that. religion is not taught in these schools ; but let any one, holding such an opinion, cast his eyes over the numerous letters of pupils who have been in these se- minaries, and see if he is not most grievously mistaken. Indeed every thing else appears to be kept subordinate to this first and most important subject ; andgit may truly be said, that “ God is in all their thoughts.” ‘The next thing with which we must find fault in Dr. Orpen’s volume is, that Phrenology is not so much as once alluded to; if this science be of such paramount importance in the education of ordinary children, how much more so must it be in that of the deaf and dumb, whose real characters it must take years to determine? and without an intimate knowledge of the cha- racter of each child, how can success be expected in the end at which we aim? But we must forbear, and will conclude this too brief notice of one of the most interesting and best-written books which ever came under our notice, by expressing a sincere wish that the lights of phrenological science will not long remain banished from these institutions, and that the time may come when every school-master is a phrenologist. We earnestly request each of our readers to give Dr. Orpen’s book an attentive perusal, and if he fails in receiving from it the instruction and satisfaction that we have ourselves experienced we are greatly mistaken. The first edition was printed in 1828, “by T. Collins, the first pupil of the Deaf and Dumb Institution, in the printing office of his master, M. Goodwin, 29, Denmark-street,” Dublin. It was aptly entitled The Contrast 332 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. between Atheism and Christianity Illustrated ; or the Uneducated Deaf and Dumb as Heathens, compared with those who have been Instructed in Language and Revelation. 'The second edition is de- dicated to John Mortlock, Esq., of Brighton, at whose desire and charge it was undertaken. An Essay on the Nature, the End, and the Means of Imitation in the Fine Arts, translated from the French of M. Quatremére de Quincy, by J. C. Kent, London: Smith, Elder, & Co. 1836. Tus is a work of considerable merit, and should be in the hands of every artist who aspires to a higher knowledge of his art than consists in the mere manual skill. Art is a study, not mere handi- craft. The great masters, whose works are the exemplars of future generations, were not content to imitate even each other; but out of every model erected an original character. The pencil was merely the transit to their thoughts, and the hand subservient to their ideas. ‘The executive power was forgotten in that of the creative. Copyism is the bane of improvement: he who is content to be a slave to the models of others may make a living, but he will never make an artist. The disadvantages of a beginner are scarcely surmountable ; with a young artist who, from indigence, is compelled to make his profession too early a means of subsist- ence, the greatest evil with which he has to contend arises out of the ignorance and self-conceit of his sitters. ‘The general demand is for a likeness—a ‘‘ speaking likeness’—to produce which the artist must descend to the lowest faculty of his art—that of mere imitative skill—which not only represses the ardour and retards the improvement of his mind, but is even fatal to his success ; for a ** sneaking likeness” must always be @n unpleasing one: but to perpetuate that very familiarity of expression which is assumed in general society, is degrading to one who is naturally succeptible of a more noble and exalted bearing. Compare a “ speaking like- ness” with the features at such a time, and though the resemblance be the same, the identity is lost. The artist shou'd resemble, but not copy. He should be a pro- found phrenologist and physiognomist, an acute observer, a reader of the thoughts and intents of the heart, and by forming a ready discovery of the ruling passion, and invest his portraitures with that look which indicates their highest susceptibilities. In this power lies the ideal—to represent human nature in its best and most dignified apparition—to give importance to common- place, and something beyond form to beauty—to paint the face as it .can look when influenced by the most elevated feelings—painting what we should and could be, rather than what we are. Thus we should exalt the art, ennoble the artist, and become possessed of a likeness which we should be meliorated by contemplating. An artist has much to struggle with ; and though the means. of his improvement are not always attainable, the one great object CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 333 that of the theory of his art—should be unceasingly studied. This work of De Quincy, so admirably translated by Kent, is a valuable acquisition to his means ; it is full of profound thoughts and prac- tical observations. On the Natural History and Classification of Birds. By William Swainson, Esq., A.C.G. Vol. I., 12mo., London: Longman & Co. 1836. WE have often heard it contested, with some show of plausibility on each side, whether the labours of the field or the closet-natu- ralist were the more important of the two. Now, it appears to us, the question is one of no importance, as it must be obvious to those who are disposed to view the matter impartially, that, whatever may be the respective powers of the mind requisite for each depart- ment, both are alike essential to the advancement of the science. That the two may be advantageously united in the same individual is, moreover, satisfactorily proved by the original observations on the habits of the feathered race which the author of the present treatise has occasionally introduced ; one or two of which we shall extract as specimens. His scientific knowledge and acumen are too well known to require any comment from us. We shall now pro- ceed from these generalities to a brief notice of the contents of this book, which forms the eighty-third volume of Lardner’s Cyclopedia. The first chapter contains some general observations on birds—on the peculiarities of the class—its relation to reptiles and quadrupeds —and its primary divisions. The following remarks are so excel- lent, and the subject of them has been so frequently misunderstood, that we shall extract them for the benefit of our readers. “The first, or pre-eminent type, is termed the Insessorial, or typical, because it corresponds to the order Jnsessores, the most perfect in this class. We use the term perfect, on this and all other occasions, not as implying that other groups—when compared to such as are thus termed—are imperfectly form- ed, but indicative only of a higher or more complicated organization. No- thing that the Universal Creator has made can, by any possibility, be im- erfect, in the usual meaning of the word; because, as one of His attributes is perfection, it of course follows that all His works are equally so; that is, they are most beautifully and most completely formed for the station in the scale of nature they are intended to fill, and for performing the functions belonging to their particular organization. But while this truth is apparent to all who wish to know it, there cannot be a doubt that some animals have their instincts more developed, and their forms more highly organized than others. A bee is a more perfect animal than a butterfly, and this latter than an oyster. Why? Because, although each, ‘after its kind,’ is perfection, yet a wonderful degree of instinct has been given to the first, great beauty of form to the second, and both have been denied to the third, which, more- over, is barely capable of voluntary motion.”—p. 8. The next three chapters are devoted to an explanation of the ex- ternal anatomy of birds. Although this subject has been treated of in the works of almost every preceding ornithologist, we never \ 334 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. saw it turned to such account, or made to bear so admira- bly on the natural classification of birds. The whole of Mr. Swainson’s pages evidently bear the stamp of originality, and the observations contained in this section of his book should be atten- tively perused by the student. Indeed, such is the novelty of the light that our author has shed on this topic, that even the most ex- perienced ornithologist will be considerably benefitted by a know- ledge of them, and will feel surprised that the external anatomy of birds had not before been investigated with the attention it deserves. The following quotation from one of the chapters on this subject will give our readers a favourable idea of Mr. Swainson’s observa- tions on the habits of birds. * A greal deal has been written, and now rendered familiar to every one by our cheap compilations, on the powers of sight in the Falconine tribes ; but those of the Swallow seem to have been quite overlooked. It is, never- theless, difficult to say which is the most astounding, the far-sightedness of the former, or the instantaneous and complicated discernment of the latter. The Swallow is proverbially the swiftest flier in the feathered creation ; and yet, in the full career of its course, it is entirely intent upon quite another object than that of flight. While darting through the air at the rate of three miles a minute, it is looking on the right hand and on the left, side- ways, upwards, and downwards, for its food. ‘rhe insects it preys upon are often exceedingly minute—sometimes flying above or below the level of the Swallow’s flight; and yet they are seen, captured, and swallowed, without any diminution of the prodigious rate at which the bird is flying; nay, more, any one who attentively watches the Swallow skimming over a mea- dow in summer will perceive that it will capture two, or even three, insects in such quick succession as to convince us the bird must have had them in his eye, to use a colloquial expression, all at once, and that the whole are caught and swallowed in as many moments. The faculty of vision, in short, in these birds is fully as much developed as in the Falcons, although in a very different way; the one being Jong and the other quick-sighted, and both to a degree perfectly unexampled in the animal creation,”—p. 46. The next topic discussed is the song of birds ; our limits will not permit an analysis of this section, but we may mention that we think the cause assigned by our author for giving such a peculiarity of voice to birds is the real one. Proceeding onwards, we find a general survey of the nidification of birds, which Mr. Swainson, as usual, turns to good account as regards classification ; but we marvel greatly that the interesting subject of oology should have been so completely overlooked. In many cases the eggs form a good index to the natural affinities of birds, as has been observed by Linneus, Lewin, Hewitson, and others; though implicit reliance cannot, of course, be placed on such a basis. Whilst on the subject of nests, it may be as well to correct our author’s notion that the Fieldfare Thrush does not breed in companies, which has been proved to be the case by the observa- tions of Mr. Hewitson. Part II. is devoted to the bibliography, nomenclature, and pre- servation of birds, a chapter being occupied with each of these heads. In the first the reader is informed which are the most valu- CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 335 able works treating of the birds of various countries, with critical remarks on each. Nuttall’s work on North American birds is stated not to be procurable in Britain. We have, however, found no difficulty in obtaining it through the usual channels, and can safely recommend it to the notice of those who are unwilling to purchase more costly books. The treatise on nomenclature contains many sound remarks and rules, especially on naming natural objects after individuals ; but the observations on English nomenclature form, in our epinion, the weakest point of the volume. The argu- ments brought forth in opposition to reforms in vernacular names will, probably, prevent many from adopting such alterations ; and, therefore, for the benefit of those who are disposed to rely implicitly on the authority of a great name, we propose, in our next number, to devote an article to the refutation of our author’s views.—In the chapter on the preservation of birds, the new method of arranging the skins in drawers, instead of setting them up in glass cases, is advocated. The whole of the author’s extensive collection is thus arranged; and, having ourselves examined his cabinets, we can answer for the expediency of the plan. The third and last part contains an elucidation of the two first orders of birds, Raptores and Insessores, the classification being the quinary system, so successfully advocated by many of our first zoo- logists. — The whole volume is written in the lucid and masterly style ever observable in the works of Mr. Swainson ; it is both scientific and popular ; it forms by far the best introduction to general Ornitho- logy with which we are acquainted ; and if the student of the fea- thered tribes fails to possess himself of the present T'reatise, the loss will he greater to himself than to any one else. Civilization ; or a Brief Analysis of the Natural Laws that regulate the Numbers and Condition of Mankind. By the Hon. A. H. Moreton, M.P. pp. 216, 8vo. London. 1836. Mr. Moreton introduces his Brief Analysis with the observa- tions, that there is a broad line of demarcation between mankind and the rest of the animal kingdom, in the substitution of reason for instinct. Man requires a long and careful education to enable him even to exist ; while, in their natural state, it does nothing for the inferior creatures, which are endowed by Nature with all the faculties required for their subsistence. Brutes, as soon, as they have acquired sufficient strength, begin to seek their food in the same manner as the rest of their species: the experience of a hundred generations adds not to their knowledge. The original helplessness of man, as an individual, with his subsequent acquired superiority, and his original weakness as a race, with his subse- quent knowledge and power, distinguish him from the “ beasts that perish :” from age to age, and from year to year, he continues acquiring fresh knowledge, fresh enjoyments, and fresh power. 336 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. An inquiry into the general nature of the alterations, gradually and constantly taking place in mankind, asa race, constitutes the exclusive subject of Mr. Moreton’s volume ; and his chief theme is sub-divided into distinct investigations—on wages, industry, and on combinations to raise or lower wages—on the origin and limits of the fund for the employment of labour—on the effect of civilization upon the health, longevity and increase of mankind—how the amount of population is adapted to the variations in the fund for their support—case in which population has no tendency to increase —and on the causes that may obstruct the growth of the manufac- turing and higher classes. These questions necessarily involve the highest interests of persons, families, and states: on this account, therefore, their principles and ultimate bearings upon the conditions of society, merit always and every where the most deliberate consi- deration of legislators and philosophers. Mr. Moreton has con- ducted his inquiry into these important and difficult propositions with exemplary moderation ; his pages are altogether free from the vulgar and indecent vice of imputing ignorance and dulness, or bad motives to those who may not be able to coincide with one’s own favourite opinions, although, perchance, these themselves may be little other than mere prejudices or visionary predilections. Mr. M.’s views are clearly stated, candidly discussed, and modestly ad- vocated. Magazine of Zoology and Botany. Conducted by Sir W. Jardine, Bart., P. J. Selby, Esq., and Dr. Johnston. Nos. III. and IV. Edinburgh: W. H. Lizars—London: Highley. WE rejoice to see so many periodicals in circulation with the view of promoting the cultivation of Natural History, as it proves incontestibly that there is an increasing demand for such works, which must necessarily tend still further to diffuse a taste for the science. The Magazine of Zoology and Botany is the most strictly sci- entific Magazine of Natural History of the day ; its papers interest exclusively the professed naturalist ; and hence its usefulness will consist rather in advancing than diffusing natural knowledge. We cannot here give an analysis of the contents, but may instance the leading article in the third number, on the Cuckoo family ( Cucu- lide), by Mr. Swainson, as being especially worthy of attention. The reviews are, in general, impartial and able. The 3rd num- ber is adorned with a steel engraving, representing the intestinal canal of Buteo vulgaris, and the 4th number contains four plates, one to illustrate an article on “ Some new Species of Exotic Coleop- terous Insects,” by J. O. Westwood, and three to elucidate an ela- borate paper on “the Natural History of the British Entomo- straca,” by William Baird. We wish the work every success, and hope the succeeding numbers will be at Jeast equal to those already published. CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 337 A Popular View of the Progress of Philosophy among the Ancients. By J. Toulmin Smith. London: Longman and Co. pp. 454. WE report, with much satisfaction, on a work recently published by Mr. Joshua Toulmin Smith, on The Progress of Philosophy among the Ancients. The subject is happy at this juncture, the handling masterly, and the inferences of incomparable utility to the present extended society of letters. The author takes a succinct view of the theologic and moral philosophies of the several nations of an- tiquity ; thus embodying in our vernacular tongue, theories hitherto. wrapt in the mysteries of obsolete and, to most readers, inaccessible dialects; laying bare the barrenness of metaphysics, venerable only by wordy nullities, and directing research to those truths meriting the admiration of the initiated. It is amusing to observe how Mr. Smith has disengaged an iden- tical theologic inference from the discordances of barbaric systems. The author has succeeded in an arduous attempt—he has trans- ferred the science of antiquity from the schools to the people, who are hereby enabled to place in antithesis the value of the ancient and modern philosophies—of the imaginative and metaphysical method of the former, and of the physical and practical manner of the latter. If we might direct attention to any part of the work, as meriting espe- cial regard, and as opening a fund of information not generally diffused, it would be to that which treats on the philosophy of the elect people of God under the Mosaic dispensation. : The style is characterized at once by simplicity, brevity, and perspicuity ; and we would with confidence augur that this volume will become a popular manual of those curious in the dogmas, and incompetent in the languages of the barbaric, sacred, and classic philosophies. The Irresistible Influence of Early Impressions on the Mind of Man. By C. V. Whitwell. London: Whittaker & Co. 1836. Tue public may wonder why we devote a page to the considera- tion of a mere pamphlet ; but it is not only the very talented address of Miss Whitwell which we examine, but especially the importance of the subject of which it treats. Truth, in its nature, is homogene- ous and consistent, and, however faint the emanation, it is identified with its source. There are few whose experience has not taught them some of those truths which are incidental to suffering, but which are too loose and unconnected to apply and profit by. It is the privilege of few to appreciate these scattered facts, and, by a logical comparing reason, colJect, arrange, and apply them to the common necessities of mankind. This pamphlet is one of the conservatories of truth ; if it contain nothing new, it illuminates what was before obscure, and directs the mind to a higher and better nature. Let not our readers suppose that Miss Whitwell has lately or suddenly seized upon her theory, or that she is a mere VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2u 338 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. assenter to the modern doctrine of the physico-spiritualist. The authoress has arrived at truths so important only by many years of thoughtful application. Truth isnot communicable or receivable at once, but arises slowly in the mind by the collision of its own thoughts. Miss Whitwell has had much to contend with in the promulga- tion of her opinions. That truth is not always victorious over pre- judices and pre-educated susceptibility, a thousand precedents will confirm. How patient, how confident, how consistent, Miss Whit- well has been as a public teacher of truth, is known only to a few. The laborious productions on education of De Stael, Montague, Edgeworth, and Barbauld, receive universal commendation, because the plan in each is only a modification of what preceded it; but to teach children to be what Nature has organized them for, to per- suade instead of to compel, and to institute a penalty without the consequence of stubbornness and hatred, is a process unsuited to the comprehension of those who fancy, by a vain appeal to themselves, that a thousand varied instruments can sound the same note, and that, as extremes meet, they can cure one evil by the counter-irritation of another, and between shame and the birch train up a child in the way he should go. Let parents look to it—let them remember that the sins of the child are reflected back upon the parent with a two- fold aggravation. We recommend Miss Whitwell’s pamphlet to the serious attention of the public; we wish she had enlarged it into a book, and had laid down the plan she so efficaciously pur- sues with her own pupils. It contains applicable truths of incalcu- lable worth ; it teaches us how best to remedy suffering by antici- pating evil, not by vending an empirical catholicon, but by the salu- tary means of a good moral and physical education, realizing a truth that without a rule has grown into a proverb—the possession of a sound mind in a sound body. Miss Whitwell has not said enough, she has hinted more than confirmed, but the fault arises from the limited extent of the address. The style of this pamphlet is perspi- cuous and accurate, and the instances are such as belong to all periods of history. We think illustrations from modern times would have been better, but as we hear Miss Whitwell is engaged on a most admirable work on this subject, we refrain from all further remarks. If there were half a dozen Howards for infants who, by joining in a sort of Joint Stock Company for the education of children up to a certain age, with all the advantages of situation, with gardens, and everything to teach rather by God than man, by example than precept, independently of the pecuniary interest, the moral pre- mium would be incaleulable. To supply a ruling and governing spirit imbued with gentleness and truth might be a desideratum. Let them read this pamphlet, and then decide on the choice. CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 339 Selections from ihe Phrenological Journal ; comprising Forty Ar- ticles in'the first 5 vols. of that periodical ; chiefly by George Combe, James Simpson, and Dr. Andrew Combe. Edited by Robert Cox. pp. 360, sm. 8vo. Edinburgh, London, Glasgow, and Liverpool. 1836. PureEeNnoLtocy had made comparatively Jittle progress in this country, and the principles of this new mental philosophy were un- dergoing an extraordinary opposition, at the time when a ‘Journal was started for the purpose of recording such observations, facts, and: inductions, as would tend to establish the truth of these princi- ples, and to illustrate their influence in ameliorating the physical, moral, intellectual, and religious relations of man. The first num- ber of the Phrenological Journal was published in Dec. 1623 ; the 10th vol. is now in progress, and it continues to flourish vigorously, both in importance and usefulness. Entirely free from invective and resentment, untarnished with the withering blights of preju- dice and bigotry, its pages are pre-eminently distinguished by a con- stant manifestation of the best sentiments of our nature—candour, justice, and piety, associated with the generous magnanimity of an enlightened and high-disciplined intelligence. Mr. Cox, the ingenious and talented editor, has accomplished his self-imposed task with admirable felicity. His Selections are chosen with exemplary prudence and discernment ; we refer to his volume, - for the evidence which perfectly confirms the judgment pronounced on the merits of the work and its execution. From the scarcity of many of the early numbers of the Phrenological Journal, the repub- lication of the choicest papers in a neat and convenient form, will, we sincerely believe, be appreciated as an acceptable and praisewor- thy boon by every one who experiences pleasure and discharges a duty in contributing to the diffusion and advance of useful know- ledge. The volume contains an almost infinite variety ; ; and from the simple and practical manner in which the majority of the sub- jects are discussed, it will prove as interesting to the non- pu gist, as useful to the phrenologist. . The Naturalist’s Library. Conducted by Sir William Jardine, Bart. Ornithology, Vol. VI—The Parrot Family. By Prideaux J. Selby, Esq. Edinburgh: W.H. Lizars. 1836. OFTEN as we have been presented with partial or entire histories of the Parrot family ( Psitiacide), we never before had the plea- sure of examining figures of these splendid birds—in a popular work, and of so small dimensions—half so beautifully and faithfully executed. None of the previous ornithological volumes of this series will in any way bear comparison with that under investiga- tion as regards the execution of the plates. The descriptions of species, too, though necessarily short, are in the usual unexception- ble style ever observable in the writings of Mr. Selby. The affi- 340 CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. nities of the family are herein traced in a familiar yet scientific and judicious manner, and we are glad to find that, in almost every case, a separate English name has been provided for each genus. The life of Bewick, which opens the volume, is sketchy and pleas- ing, and on the whole the book is well worthy the names of its editor and author, and will, we doubt not, be perused with pleasure by all classes of readers. The memoir of the celebrated—and, we think, unrivalled—wood-cutter, will, of course, possess peculiar charms for every lover of the feathered race. The Oriental Annual. Lives of the Mogul Emperors. By the Rev. Hobart Caunter, B.D. With twenty-two Engravings from Drawings by William Daniell, R.A. London: C. Tilt. 1837. Tus volume is intended to convey to the general reader a bet- ter and more detailed account of the Mahommedan history of India, illustrated in the shape of lives of the Mogul Emperors, which ap- pears hitherto to have been but imperfectly known. The aim of the majority of annuals is rather to amuse than to instruct, and in this respect, the Orzental Annual heretofore differed in no way from books of a similar nature. In the present volume, however, the desire of the author has been to unite these two objects. Justice compels us to state that Dr. Caunter has succeeded most admirably in his task, and that his readers will find no reason to quarrel with the alterations it has been deemed advisable to effect in this “new series.” The engravings, by Daniell, taken from the sketches of Samuel Davis, Esq., are generally as good as the subjects would admit of ; but the execution of the greater number of them is too hard, though never stiff. The Oriental Annual is exceeded by few of its cotemporaries in practical value, and is calculated to impart much useful knowledge. We may observe that the novelty of this species of publication having nearly worn away, their popularity, too, has considerably diminished ; but as the volume before us is excellent in plan and execution, we care little whether it be called an “ annual,” or whether it be published in a more modest form. British Annual, and Epitome of the Progress of Science. Edited by Robert D. Thomson, M.D. London: Bailliere, Regent Street, 1837. 12mo., pp. 375. Tue British Annual professes to be an epitome of the progress of science, and, as the numerous topics are discussed in a concise and popular manner, its use will, we think, be considerable ; its value will consist, not so much in giving a good knowledge of any depart- ment of science, as in imparting a taste for such subjects, and for diving deeper into them. Adding to this the general accuracy with which the work is compiled, the book cannot be considered other- wise than as a valuable acquisition to science; for though it will not teach directly, it will do so indirectly. Merely to extract CRITICAL NOTICES OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. 341 the heads of the various chapters, would occupy considerably more space than we can spare; but suffice it to say, that there is a little of every thing connected with scientific matters, and that a correct though not a deep knowledge of the subjects alluded to, may be gleaned from a survey and perusal of the book. The typography and binding are modest and unobtrusive, but neat. Phrenology Vindicated: being a Reply to an article in the Quarterly Review for September, 1836 ; with Introductory Observations on the Science in general. By Joshua Toulmin Smith, Esq., of Lincoln’s Inn. London: Longman & Co. 1836. 8vo., pp. 80. Noruine can be more gratifying to the true phrenologist, or prove more satisfactorily the rapid strides this glorious science is taking, than the number of excellent works on the subject which are continually issuing from the press ; and we were much pleased at witnessing the readiness with which the attack on the science, in the Quarterly Review, has been refuted. This attack is a review of Combe’s Outlines of Phrenology, and is, perhaps, the most imbecile attempt of the kind that has ever been made ; abounding with in- consistencies and absurdities, of which any tyro in Phrenology would be ashamed. This being the case, it might be imagined to be an easy task to fell the reviewer to the ground: but no such thing. The anti-phrenologists are such marvellous dealers in the ambiguous, and couch their assertions in such a manner that it is often a difficult matter to deal with them. Mr. Smith has, how- ever, faced this champion of anti-phrenology boldly, and acquitted himself exceedingly well. He has adopted the analytic mode, and has picked his antagonist to the bone in each of his assertions. The pamphlet is stated to have been ready for the press in forty-eight hours after the author first received the September number of the Quarterly Review. ‘The style is good, the reasoning sound and clever ; and if the author has sometimes spoken with more warmth than the occasion might seem to require, we, as phrenologists, can readily understand and excuse his zeal and enthusiasm in so noble a cause. The Quarterly Journal of Agriculture. Nos. 33 and 34. 1836. Amonest the great and constantly increasing number of periodi- cals, few are more likely to spread practical knowledge amongst farmers than this journal. All the communications inserted are of real worth and interest ; and we would more especially draw the attention of our readers to the memoir of Sir John Sinclair con- tained in these two Nos. There are also some interesting, and we think original papers on hedge-birds, by Prof. Rennie ; many spe cies are, however, included which cannot properly be termed hedge birds, and other errors are perpetrated which we are unable here to notice. 342 FINE ARTS.—MUSIC. VOCAL. Gresham Prize Composition, Anthem (for 1835),—My Soul doth magnify the Lord. Composed by Charles Lucas. London: J. A. Novello. Tue last chorus of this composition gives evidence of considerable power over the resources of art, and of the proper application of those resources: in-all that precedes it, we lament to see this power employed in learned trifling and pedantic dullness.) An anthem composed entirely of canons is certainly a novelty, and one which we should be sorry to see imitated. The choral fugue is well de- veloped, and terminates on a pedale almost worthy of Leo himself. The Chamois Hunter. Song. By Miss Eliza Porter. London: Cramer & Co. Ons of the most pleasing evidences of the march of intellect is to be found in the increasing mental cultivation of the fair sex, in the gradual wearing away of the degrading prejudice that woman is fit only to learn how best to bake a pudding or embroider a coun- terpane, as well as in the determination which seems to have in- spired her no longer to submit to the intellectual tyranny which has hitherto smothered her talents, and kept her powers in abey- ance. Mrs. Somerville, Mrs. Marcet, Miss Martineau, and many others have shewn, that not only in Poetry, but even in science itself, woman can come off with honour in the race, where man has hitherto arrogated to himself the sole right of entering. If in Music she has not yet been equally successful, we must assuredly look for some other cause than mental inferiority ; and that cause lies, we shall probably find, in the defective method of tuition and study at present too universally employed in imparting and acquir- ing a knowledge of the art. As no one, how great soever his geni- us, can write what is worthy of lasting fame without much previ- ous reading and reflection, so in Music, no one can hope to produce what will stand the test of time (which should be the aim of every composer who is not under the necessity of courting present popu- larity), unless he has studied the classical works of other times, and accustomed himself to regard them as models more worthy of imitation than the ephemeral favourites of an unenlightened pub- lic. The lady composers, however, appear to think themselves exempt from this condition, which to them may seem to impose the necessity of drudgery: but, let us tell them, that, as there is no royal road to science, so there is no lady’s road to music. To write even correctly, much study is indispensable: to our fair friends, however, correctness is evidently a point of -very secondary import- FINE ARTS. _ 343 ance. We accordingly find their compositions (as a general rule, to which at present there are few exceptions) richly begemmed with consecutive octaves, fifths, and other crudities, of which the merest tyro should be ashamed. The song under review is one of the ex- ceptions; in it we observe no absolute offences against the funda- mental laws of Music ; yet many things which a more extended ex- perience would either not have admitted, or else would have amend- ed. The introductory symphony is pretty and appropriate. In the first three bars of the first movement, the voice repeats the key note no less than ten times consecutively, and so delighted seems the fair composer with this melody, that she afterwards reiterates it again and again, with precisely the same accompaniment, which, almost uniformly throughout this movement, gives a chord for each note in the voice, producing a very heavy and un-song-like effect. The six-eight movement gives promise of better things; the melody for the most part is elegant; the accompaniment, though not very ori- ginal, appropriate, and the modulation, though somewhat com- mon, is still correct. In some instances the base might be altered with advantage, and the accentuation of the words is sometimes faulty to a degree. Will Miss Porter not only take our advice in good part, but follow it? We assure her that she will not merely derive benefit in, but also great additional pleasure from, an art for which she seems to possess not a little natural talent. I.— Sweet is the balmy Evening Hour. A Duet for two Sopranos ; the poetry by Mary Russell Mitford, the music composed and inscribed to his mother, by William Thorold Wood, Esq. II.—Go gentle Zephyr. A Duet for two Sopranos; the words translated from Metastasio, the music composed and dedicated, at her request, to Madame Malibran De Beriot, by the same. London : 'T. Boosey and Co. Every musician should be a poet, not a mere poetical rhymster, but a poet in feeling and expression ; for what is Music but the in- carnation of poesy? bearing the same analogy to Poetry, as this to prose. Poetry is the essence of prose, as Music is, or ought to be, of Poetry. The thoughts of a poem or song suggest an image or a sentiment ; it is the province of Music, by the aid of sound, to present that image or sentiment in a form more exquisite still; giy- ing it, through the medium of melody, all the phases that imagina- tion can propose, and by the aid of harmony, relieving the whole from monotony. That there are amateurs in England, who understand the true purposes for which music was evidently ordained, is apparent from the two duets at the head of the present article. In each there is a true poet-like conception of the subject. The sense, or rather the sentiment, is never sacrificed to the sound, nor the sound to the sense ; the one mutually aids and supports the other. In the first duet, the lines— 344 FINE ARTS. “ Sweet is the balmy evening hour, And miid the Glow-worm’s light, And soft the breeze that sweeps the flower With pearly dew-drops bright,” suggest to the mind a beautiful evening in summer ; and true to its purpose, the music seems absolutely redolent of the perfume of the flowers, after a sultry day in July. A languor steals over the balmy evening hour; the introduction to which is commenced pianissimo, and a gentle crescendo leading to a dolce, ushers in the subject. The time is slow of course, and the movement six-eight, being the most tranquil and soothing for all smooth and pastoral subjects. ' The other duet, Go gentle Zephyr, is of a more simple character, reminding us slightly, in its structure, of the Carnival of Venice, though here its similarity ends. As a chamber duet it is particu- larly attractive, and being remote from difficulty, will probably be- come the more popular of the two. Some may consider our praise of these compositions as “ beyond their desert ;” but we are confi- dent that our opinion will be verified by every accomplished musi- cian. The Singing Master: containing instructions for teaching singing in schools and families, the notation of music, rudiments of the science of harmony, and a selection of popular airs, arranged as songs, and also harmonized for three voices, as glees, or short cho- russes, adapted, with suitable words, for the use of children, and young persons of different ages. London: E. Wilson, Royal Exchange. 1836. EXcELLENT in plan and able in execution, this little work has for its aim the cultivation of the ear at a period much earlier than is generally thought either necessary or expedient. ‘The author considers that the chief cause—and one of the chief causes it un- doubtedly is—of the difference between the musical talents of chil- dren, is their greater or less habitude of hearing such music as they can understand, from their earliest years,—while one infant in arms is suffered to cry itself to sleep, another is constantly amused with lively nursery songs. Parents knowing this, will always make a good voice and “ musical ear” a sine qud non in the female attend- ants of young children. In teaching those of a somewhat more ad- vanced age, such a work as the present is indispensable. With- out a good guide—even supposing a competent instructor within reach—many bad habits will be contracted, which, if suffered to gain ground, are extremely difficult to eradicate. Mr. Hickson suggests the propriety of employing some instrument, such as the clarionet, to support the voice of both teacher and pupils. We should be inclined to give the preference to instruments of the violin kind, which would allow the master to sing and play at the same time, or to give hints or admonitions without interrupting the music. MISCELLANEOUS COMMUNICATIONS. 345 After the children can sing a simple air without much practice, and not till then, the author proposes to teach the rules of the sci- ence. Weare inclined to doubt whether any good end would be gained by the study of these rules, and whether the pupil should not be in ignorance of them till he can find them out by himself. This, with ordinary musical talent, he will not fail to do, from the study of the classical works of great composers ; if not, they can be of no use to him. In this work the easy tirability and limited comprehension of the inmates of nurseries and infant schools, for whose use it is principally intended, is judiciously consulted, in the selection of songs short, easy, and amusing. In reply to objections on this score, he well remarks,—“ there are persons who deem this application of music a degradation to the art. The author has no sympathy with them. The learned professor, with his head full of Beethoven and Sebastian Bach, would feel his dignity compromised by amusing little children with simple and lively melodies, instead of tor- menting them with ingenious modulations and profound harmonies. May little children never fall into his hands.”—-Towards the con- clusion are some pieces of a more scientific character, culled from the works of Callcott, Webbe, Cooke, &c. Let us hope that this work will be instrumental—and in good hands it assuredly will be— in diffusing a knowledge and love of this most delightful of the fine arts, amongst the labouring classes of this country, who form so large, yet so very inadequately cultivated, a portion of the community. MISCELLANEOUS COMMUNICATIONS. WE understand it is in contemplation to establish a society in London for the especial purpose of promoting the cultivation of the several branches of British Natural History—to make collections of the various natural produc- tions in this country—to form a Library of Works to elucidate the science and aid the student—to correspond with, and mutually assist the numerous provincial Natural History societies—in fact, to form a nucleus for the con- centration of the labours of the British naturalist. "We most sincerely hope that all who feel an interest in the laudable objects the promoters of this society have in view, will at once come forward and exert themselves to pro- mote the success of so desirable a project. A new institution for the promotion of the fine arts has just been esta- blished at Newcastle, which is to be called “The North of England Society for the Promotion of the Fine Arts,” intended for the advancement of draw- ing, painting, sculpture, engraving, engineering, &c., by the purchase of casts and books, &c., and procuring an adequate place where students may work under the same roof. Metnop or Catcuine THE House Sparrow (Passer domesticus) AND VOL. V.—NO. XVIII. 2x 3-46 MISCELLANEOUS COMMUNICATIONS. OTHER SMALL Birps.—The difficulty of entrapping the House Sparrow by the usual means of catching small birds, has been alluded to by many au- thors. Ihave, however, always found that I can catch as many as I wish in. trap-cages. I generally use wicker cages, made for the purpose, and have taken as many as two dozen in a single day. Indeed, scarcely a day passes that we do not take a dozen out of the trap, which is generally placed near the pea-rows in the garden. It rarely happens that an old bird is caught, though this is sometimes the case. Now and then a Robin Redbreast gets in, and does mischief by preventing the Sparrows from entering ; occasionally, also, a Hedge Dunnock ( Accentor modularis ), and Willow Warbler ( Sylvia melodia) are caught, the latter only when the cage is baited with fruit or peas. With these exceptions, I am not aware of any other species being cap- tured in these trap-cages.—J. D. Satmon. Thetford, Norfolk, July 28, 1836. [The most efficient means of destroying the House Sparrow, with which we are acquainted, is by taking them at night with bat-fowling nets. We have heard of two hundred being captured in this manner in the course of a few days.—Eps. | THe Meaty Linnet (Linaria canescens, Goutp).—The Mealy Linnet is closely allied to the Redpoll Linnet (ZL. pusilla), but is larger and stouter, with a somewhat longer and thicker bill, and whitish rump; but having no sign of the pinkish tinge over the tail, so conspicuous in the Mountain Lin- net. I have a live Mealy Linnet, a red-breasted specimen, but of course not very bright at this time of the year (Dec.), nor will it become so, judging from analogy with the other species. It is very healthy, but has not yet begun to sing. I have seen a specimen of it from Japan, and several from the neighbourhood of Lake Ontario. It appears to inhabit more northerly dis- tricts than the Redpoll Linnet, and is the species which Wilson describes under the name of ‘“‘ Lesser Redpoll Finch,” as the figure in the original edition and the dimensions, he states, sufficiently testify—_Epwarp Biyru. Surposep “Cock-NESTS” OF THE Ivy WREN ( Anorthura troglodytes ).— There has been much nonsense written about “ cock-nests,” as some have been pleased to term them, hardly worth notice. I cannot imagine any na- turalist believing that the male bird builds them, or that they are made for the sake of concealment. I think we should find, on examination, that the greater number of these afterwards deserted nests are built with an idea of completion, but that this jealous little bird becomes dissatisfied with the si- tuation; and no bird is more easily caused to desert, though I know one in- stance where the old bird allowed herself to be handled repeatedly while sit- ting, and yet brought out her young. This little creature, besides its jea- lous nature, is particularly liable to have its jealousy aroused, from being so early a builder, when there is little covert, and from building often in low, exposed situations. I have given some attention to this circumstance, and feel assured that there is no peculiarity about it.—M. N. F. Facrs RELATIVE TO THE Tis ( Parus ).—The chattering notes of the Garden, Blue, Coal, and Marsh ‘Tits, can scarcely be distinguished from each’ other, but the first named species soon discovers itself by its “ pink, pink.” ‘The Garden Tit is much less active and less ceaselessly in motion than the other Tits above alluded to; a fact which becomes obvious when the species are seen in company.—Cuar es Liverpoot, M.D. Bristol, Oct. 16, 1836. DeEraRtTuRE oF THE WILLOW WanrBLER (Sylvia melodia) 1n 1836.—The MISCELLANEOUS COMMUNICATIONS. 347 majority of this lovely little creature departed this year, as usual, about the first week in September ; but we heard one at Campsall, near Doncaster, so much later as the 29th of that month; and we observed a second, the same morning, in the grounds of Michael Tasburgh, Esq., at Burghwallis, near Campsall. It is remarkable that the first mentioned individual was singing.—Ep. Tue Acap&miz DE Mépecine or Paris anD 1Ts Decision on PuRE- NoLoGy.—The Académie de Médecine has been called upon to decide the important question of Phrenology. The discussion occupied four sittings, Dr. Broussais, who is at the head of the Phrenological School, maintained the principles which he had laid down in his lectures. M. Gueneau de Mussy had to sum up the arguments on both sides, and in conclusion gave an opinion that the system ought not at present to be adopted. 'The Academy, concur- ring in this opinion, deferred its decision till the system was established upon more solid basis.— Paris Journal.—['This sagacious decision proves to us most clearly, that the learned Academicians either could not or would not rightly understand the true science of the mind.—Ebs. ] Powers or THE P1ano-Forte.— Composers of solos for other instru- ments, seem anxious to combine every possible variety of style and expres- sion, while those who write for the piano-forte, seem afraid of exposing its defects, and accordingly display nothing but its peculiarities. But if we con- sider this instrument as an amusement for home and solitude, we cannot con- sent to give up the sublime and beautiful for the ornamental alone, to neg- lect the higher and cultivate only the lower walks of the art. Played on the piano-forte, every species of music, both vocal and instrumental, ancient and modern, sacred and secular, may be more or less enjoyed. The imagination readily supplies the absent words of a finale, or chorus, previously heard at the opera or oratorio. The piano-forte seems to speak, and the qualities and tones of different instruments, seem almost distinguishable.—Crotch’s Mu- sical Lectures, p. 157. HEREFORDSHIRE NatruraL History, PuiLosornic, ANTIQUARIAN, AND LitrEerary Socirery.—Under this comprehensive title, an institution has been recently formed at Hereford, and has already received most exten- sive patronage. The Dean of Hereford presided at the preliminary meeting, which was attended by 150 influential individuals, most of whom enrolled themselves as members. Earzty ARRIVAL OF THE FIELDFARE Turusu ( Turdus pilaris) 1In DuM- FRIESSHIRE.—The Fieldfare Thrush has appeared remarkably early this year, having already been seen here in large flocks. ‘These pretty foreigners were first observed at the beginning of September, or even earlier. Whe- ther the ripening of the berries of the Mountain Ash, which have been early this year, and upon which they greedily feed on their first arrival, may have attracted them, or not, I cannot say.—James Stuart Menreatu, Close- burn Hall, Dumfriesshire, Oct. 25, 1836.—[Up to this time (Oct. 30), we have not met with a single Fieldfare Thrush in the north of England.—Ep.] Oxziruary.—It is our painful duty to announce the deaths of two men whose names will ever be held in deserved estimation by the zoologist and botanist—Dr. Leach and Mons. A. L. de Jussieu. Dr. L. died at Genoa, of a few days’ illness from cholera; Jussieu expired at Paris, at the advanced 348 ABRIDGED LIST OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. age of eighty-nine. We hope, ere long, to be able to present our readers with some account of the valuable labours of these truly able indivi- duals in the field of natural science.—We have also to record the de- mise of Edward Turner Bennett, Esq., Secretary to the Zoological Soci- ety, who died on the 2Ist of August, 1836, after a short illness. He is well known as the author of the Tower Menagerie and Menagerie of the Zoological Society, and as an Editor of the Transactions of the Zoological Society. He has likewise published an edition of White’s Selborne, and was one of the most efficient office-bearers of the Society to which he was Secretary. LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. A fourth edition of Combe’s admirable System of Phrenology has just been published. The extensive sale of this work would of itself speak sufficiently for its merit: but if we can find room, we propose giving it a more detailed notice in a future number. Shortly will be published, with numerous plates, the Wonders of Geology, by Dr. Mantell, F.G.S., F.R.S., &c., &c. A liberal subscription has been entered into amongst the literati of St. Petersburgh, in aid of the renovation of the tomb of Shakspeare, in Stratford- upon-Avon Church. The Princess Bariatinsky is at the head of the list. A Translation of Menzel on German Literature will shortly appear. ABRIDGED LIST OF NEW PUBLICATIONS, From September 9 to December 8, 1836. Buckland’s Bridgewater Treatise on Geology, &c., 2 vol. 8vo., 35s. Cabinet of Modern Art, vol. 3, 1837, post 8vo. 21s. Cambridge Philosophical Transactions, vol. 6, part 1, 4to., 13s. Coleridge’s (S. T.) Literary Remains, by H. M. Coleridge, 2 vol. 8vo., 21s. Combe’s Ancient Marbles in the British Museum, part 7, 4to., 42s. Cooper’s Residence in France, 2 vol. post 8vo., 21s. Craigie’s (Dr.) Elements of Practice of Physic, 8vo., 18s. Curling’s (T. B.) Treatise on Tetanus, 8vo., 8s. Doyle’s Flower and Fruit Garden, 12mo., 2s. Duncan’s (Dr. H.) Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons, vol. 1, 12mo., 6s. Edinburgh Cabinet Library, vol. 21, (Circumnavigation of the Globe, &c.) 5s. Finden’s Tableaux, Scenes of National Character, &c., imp. 4to. 42s., 1. p. 63s. Guy’s Hospital Reports, vol. 1, 8vo., 12s. 6d. Hamilton’s Observations on Midwifery, part 2, 8vo., 7s. 6d. Hooker’s (W. J.) Figures, &c. of New and Rare Plants, part 1, 8vo., 14s. Hoppus’s Sketches of the Continent in 1835, 2 vol. post 8vo., 21s. Hiagine Atlas of the Earth, 4to., 31s. 6d.—coloured, 42s. Inche’s (Jas.) Letters on Emigration to Canada, }2mo., 5s. Ingleby’s (J. T.) Tracts and Cases in Obstetric Medicine, 8vo., 9s. Jamieson’s (Mrs.) Domestic History of France, 12mo., 7s., bds. ‘METEOROLOGICAL REPORT. 349 Jardine’s Naturalist’s Library, vol. 15: Parrots, 12mo., 6s. Jenning’s Landscape Annual (Spain), 8vo., 21s.—lL. p. 52s. 6d. King’s (Capt.) Journey to the jours Ocean, 2 vols. post 8vo., 21s. Lardner’s Cyclopzedia, vol. 83 (Swainson’s Birds, vol. 1), 12mo., 6s. vol. 84 (Lives of Eminent Men of Gt. Britain), 6s. vol. 85, AS of Russia, vol. 2) feap., 6s. Lee’s (Edwin) Account of the Continental Watering Places, sm. 8vo., 7s. 6d. Medical Vocabulary ; Names, 'Terms, Phrases, &c., 18mo., 4s. 6d. M‘Culloch’s Statistical Account of the British Empire, 2 vols. 8vo., 36s. Memoirs of the Astronomical Society, vol. 9, 4to., 22s. Patterson’s (Capt. John) Adventures, 1807 to 1821, post 8vo., 10s. 6d. Paul’s Journal of a Tour to Moscow, 1836, 12muv., is. Portugal and Gallicia, by an English Nobleman, 2 vol. sm. 8vo., 18s. Quincy on Imitation in the Fine Arts, transl. by J. C. Kent, 8vo., 14s. Raumer’s (Von) Political History of England, vols. 1 and 2, 8vo., 30s. Contributions to Modern History, post 8vo., 10s. 6d. Roscoe’s (T.) Wandering’s through N. Wales, roy. 8vo., 28s. 6d.—India, 46s. Skinner’s (Major) Journey overland to India, 2 vol. post 8vo. 21s. Smith’s Miner’s Guide, 12mo. with a Chart, 63s. Todd’s Cyclopedia of Anatomy and Physiology, vol. 1, roy. 8vo., 2/. Williams’ (Dr. R.) Elements of Medicine, vol. 1, 8vo., 10s. 6d. METEOROLOGICAL REPORT. SEPTEMBER. 1836| barometer. | ‘Thermometer. Remarks. Sept. | Morn. | Even.| Max. | Min. Day. Night. Wind. 1 | 29.110 | 29.205) 64 52 Fine, cloudy, windy S. W. 2 | 29.000 | 29.200} 55 Showery Westerly 3 | 29.180 | 28.860} 61 45 Fine, clouds and sun Fine S. E. 4 | 28.705 | 28.685| 62 48.5 | Showersand sun, fine | Lightning Calm 5 | 28.815 | 28.740} 60 45 Fine Fine Southerly 6 | 28.605 | 28.530} 58 42.5 | Cloudy, windy, showers| Cloudy Mg I 7 | 28.965 | 29.145} 61 42 Fine, sun Fine W. N. W. 8 | 29.100 | 29.020} 60 45.5 | Fine, clouds and sun S. W. 9 | 29.100 | 29.145) 56.5 | 48 Clouds, sun, showers Rain Northerly 10 | 29.130 | 29.270; 54.5 | 43.5 | Showers and wind Showers Northerly 11 | 29.360 | 29.413} 55.5 Windy and cloudy Fine Northerly 12 | 29.460 | 29.500} 58 46 Wind, sun, cloud Fine Northerly 13 | 29.510 | 29.520} 57.5 | 44 Fine, cloudy Fine Northerly 14 | 29.510 | 29.515} 56 46 Cloudy, shower, hazy | Fine o Abe 15 | 29.520 | 29.505| 59 47 Cloudy, light shower Cloudy N. E. 16 | 29.500 | 29.490} 55 47.5 | Cloudy, light shower | Cloudy N.E. 17 | 29.475 | 29.455 48 Cloudy, light shower Light showers | N. E. 18 | 29.415 | 29.400] 55 44 Cloudy Light showers | N. E. 19 | 29.330 | 29.320} 57.5 | 45 Cloudy Cloudy N. E. 20 | 29.320 | 29.400| 59 44 Clouds, sun, shower Cloudy Northerly 21 | 29.485 | 29.540} 55.5 | 39 Fine, sun, clouds. N. W. 22 29.380 | 57 43 Fine, cloudy Fine Westerly 23 | 29.205 | 29 345} 63 515 | Clouds, sun, showers | Rain Ss. W. 24 | 29.460 | 29.420} 63 51 Fine, clouds., sun Fine Westerly 25 | 29.490 63 515 | Fine, clouds, sun Fine Westerly 26 29.210| 66 50 Fine, clouds, sun S. W. 27 | 29.115 | 29.080} 64 57 Fine, cloudy Fine Ss. W. 28 | 28.910 | 28.810} 54 50 Showers Hvy. showers | S. W. 29 | 28.650 | 28.700} 57 45 | Fog and rain Fine, foggy Ss. W. 30 28.900} 50.5 | 42 Fine, showers Ss. W. Mean Max.58.5 46.3 Mean Min. 350 METEOROLOGICAL REPORT. OCTOBER. 1836 Barometer. | Thermometer Remarks. Oct. | Morn.| Even. | Max. ) Min. Day. Night. Wind. 1 | 29.450 | 28.230} 51 39 Rain Heavy rain S. W. 2 Windy, cold Rain 3 | 28.440 | 28.700} 49 38 N.W. 4 28960} 50.5 | 38 | Fine, all sun Cloudy Variable 5 29.255| 54 40 Fine, all sun Fine Ss. W. 6 Fine Rain q 7 | 28.740 | 28.645] 55.5 | 40 Heavy showers Rain Southerly 8 | 28.640 | 28.680} 55 50 Fine Southerly 9 | 28.600 | 28.665| 54.5 | 43 Cloudy Showers S. W. 10 | 28.510 | 28 630| 56 45 Sun, showers Showers S.'W. 11 | 28.545 | 28.680 | 54 475 | Very windy, fine Showers Westerly 12 | 28.815} 28275} 53.5 | 43 Wind, clouds, showers | Showers S.W 13 | 28.420 | 28.640} 55 43 Very windy, fine Wind Westerly 14 | 29,090 | 29.225 | 55 47 Sun, clouds Rain Westerly 15)| 29.130 | 29.310 | 55 45 Fine, sun Cloudy Calm 16 | 29.500 | 29.500} 55:5 | 43 Fine, sun, clouds Fine Calm 17 | 29.460 58.5, | 49.5 | Cloudy Fine S. E. 18 | 29.430} 29.440 | 60 545 | Cloudy Cloudy Southerly 19 | 29.565! 29.750 | 55 49.5 | Fine, sun Rain Variable 20 | 29.750} 29650} 51 40 Fine, all sun Fine Southerly 21 | 29610) 29.630 | 55 47 Fine, clouds, andsun | Cloudy Calm 22 | 29.715] 29.750| 545 | 45 Very fine Fine Southerly 23 | 29.750} 29.740 | 55 46 Fine Fine Northerly 24 | 29.730! 29.660 | 545 | 51 Cloudy, foggy Cloudy Southerly 25 | 29.610} 29.580 | 53.5 | 47.5 | Fine, cloudy Cloudy Calm 26 | 29.510} 29.285 | 5L5 | 455 | Cloudy Fine Westerly 27 | 29-105} 29.350 | 46 43 Wirdy, fine Windy, shower | N. W. 28 | 29.100} 28.960 | 40 33 Light snow ine N.W. . 29} 29.010, 29.300 | 365 | 31.5 | Wind, snow showers Snow showers | North 30| 29.420 29-420; 40.5 | 32 Fine, all sun Fine North 31 | 29.450 29.470! 39.5 | 29.5 | Fine, all sun Fine North Mean Max.550 43 Mean Min. NOVEMBER. 1836; Barometer. /Thermometer, Remarks. Nov. | Morn. , Even. | Max. | Min. Day. Ni.ht. Wind 1 | 29.400 | 29.320 | 48.5 | 34 | Cloudy, light rain S. W. 2| 29.280} 2 .300/ 54.5 | 47 | Cloudy, fine Cloudy S. W. 3 54 38 | Cloudy, hail 4 | 28.855 | 28.630} 45 38 | Cloudy, showers Fine N. W. 5 | 28.500 | 28.740 | 43 38 | Fine, sun, windy Showery W.N.W. 6 | 28.750 | 28.790 | 42 32. | Showery, snow and rain | Fine W.N W. 7 | 28.950 | 29.220 | 42 31.5 Fine N. W. 8 | 29.320 | 29.420 | 43 3l 9 | 29.310 53 34 10 | 28. 28.880 | 53 38 1] | 28.730 | 28.980} 54 35 12 | 29.180 55 36 13 | 28.970 | 28.940 | 60 35 14 29.220} 53 45 15 | 29.390 | 29.410 | 52 47 16 | 29.290 | 28.990 | 53 40 17 | 28.890 | 28.510 | 52 38 18 | 28.530 | 28.630} 650 34 19 | 28.680 | 28.870| 42 Sl 20 | 29.220 | 29.470 33 21 | 29.510 | 29.330 30 92 | 29,330 | 28.915 33 93 | 28,605 | 28.800} 43 38.5 | Fine, high wind Wind and rain | W. N. W. 24 | 28,810 | 28.950} 42 35 | Fine, windy Fine Westerly 25 | 29.040 | 28.825} 37 31.5 | Foggy, sleet, &c. Clear, fine Light, vble. 26 | 28.630 | 28.620| 47 32 (| Foggy, rain Rain Light, vble. 27 | 28.815 | 28.600} 52 44 | Fine, cloudy, rain p. m. | Rain Westerly 28 | 28.480 | 28.460} 51 50 | Rain, thunder Heavy rain 8. W. 29 | 28.150 | 28.790} 53 47 | Rain, boisterous wind | Heavy rain Ss. W. 30} 28.810 | 29100] 47 41 | Rain and fog Rain S. W. Mean Max. 49 37.2 Mean Min. INDEX. Birds in Derbyshire, On the rarity of certain, 31 Birmingham Society of Arts, Exhi- bition of Paintings by the old Masters, 112 British Association for the advance- ment of Science, Meeting of the, 117. British Song Birds, Observations on the Nomenclature of Neville Wood's, 191 Climates of Great Malvern and Lon- don, A Comparison between the, 21 Correspondence, 108, 289 Critical Notices of New Publications: An Angler’s Rambles, by Edward Jesse, ELS, 161. The Sea, by Robert Mudie, 163. Observations upon the Instincts of Animals, by Sir John Sebright, Bart., 165. The Magazine of Health, 168 An Account of the Phormium Tenax, or New Zealand Flax, 169. Geo- logy ; with Remarks. on Bishop Sumner’s Appendix to his work, entitled, “ Records of Creation,” 318. Statistics of Phrenology, by H. C. Watson, 321. Anecdotes and Annals of the Deaf and Dumb, by C. E. H. Orpen, M.D., 327. An Essay on the Nature, the End, and the Means of Imitation in the Fine Arts, translated from the French of M. Quatremére de Quincy, by J. C. Kent, 332. On the Natural History and Classifi- cation of Birds, by Wm. Swainson, 333. Civilization; or a Brief Analysis of the Natural Laws that regulate the Numbers and Condi- tion of Mankind, by the Hon. A. H. Moreton, M. P., 335. Maga- zine of Zoology and Botany, 336. A Popular View of the Progress of Philosophy amongst the Anci- ents, by J. Toulmin Smith, 337. The irresistible influence of Early Impressions on the Mind of Man, by C. V. Whitwell, 337. Selec- tions from the Phrenological Jour- nal, 339. The Naturalist’s Libra- ry, 339. The Oriental Annual, 340. The british Annual and E- pitome of the Progress of Science, 340.° Phrenology Vindicated, 341. The Quarterly Journal of Agri- culture, 341. Dissolution of the Monasteries, Some Remarks on the, 177 Ermine Weasel, Anecdotes elucida- tory of the Natural History of the, 250 Education, Central Society of, 312 Female Education, Remarks on an important Branch of, 49 Fine Arts: Finden’s Ports and Har- bours of Great Britain, 169.—Mu- sic ; Gresham Prize Composition, Anthem (for 1835), 342. The Chamois Hunter, 342. Sweet is the balmy Evening Hour, and Go gentle Zephyr, Duets for two So- pranos, 343. The Singing Mas- ter, 344 i Fishes of Britain, systematically ar- ranged, 204 Hewitson’s British Oology, 74 Hard Words, 197 Imagination, On the Effects of cer- tain Mental and Bodily states up- on the, 53, 216 Insects, Swarm of minute, in and around Macclesfield, 234 Literary Intelligence, 175, 348 352 INDEX. Meteorological Report, 175, 349. Miscellaneous Communications, 345 Music, Thoughts on the Sublime in, 241 Museums of Natural History, Some Remarks on, 273 New Publications, Abridged List of, 174, 348 Natural History Books, Notes on, 280 Ornithological Society, St. James’s, 314 Phrenology with Physiognomy, On the Connection of, 270 Physical Education, Remarks on Dr. aldwell’s Thoughts on, 90 Provincial M adicat bad Surgical As- sociation, Meeting of the, 153 Proceedings of Provincial Societies : Birmingham Philosophical Insti- tution, 157. Shropshire and North Wales Natural History and Anti- quarian Society, 157, 298. Wor- cestershire Natural History Soci- ety, 160, 307. Coventry Mecha- nic’s Institution, 291. Doncaster Lyceum, 294. Macclesfield Soci- ety for the Diffusion cf Useful Knowledge, 296. Staines Literary and Scientific Institution, 302. Warwickshire Natural History and Archeological Society, 303. York Philosophical Society, 311 Reptiles and Amphibia of Britain, systematically arranged, 104 Sloane, Sir Hans, Bart., Memoirs of, 1 Shakspeare, Some Remarks on the Philosophy and Observances of, 34, 251 Scientific Miscellanea, 171 Shenstone, the Poet, 238 Yorkshire Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, 316 Zoological Society of London, 152. END OF THE FIFTH VOLUME. Bartow, Printer, BeENNETT’s-HiLt, BrrmMiIncHAM. PPUCATION .—Parents desirous of affording their Sons an Education of a superior order, and in accordance with the increased intelligence of the age, have an rede of placing them in an Establishment conducted by a Gentleman, a Member of the University and of several Learned Bodies. ~ The course of regular study, taught on the most approved systems, comprehends the Greek, Latin, English, French, German, Italian, and Spanish Languages; the Elements -of Astronomy and Natural Philosophy; Mathematics and Commercial Accounts, History, 2 Geography, &c. Impressed with a conviction that no education can be complete without an adequate knowledge of modern languages, the Principal has made them an essential branch of in- struction in his School. aving himself resided many years on the Continent, and travel- ed much, he has an intimate knowledge of the principal Languages of Europe, and is en- abled to superintend instruction in this important department with no inconsiderable ad- -vantage to his pupils. * _ Those branches of Education which are susceptible of them, are illustrated by Lectures and Experiments, to excite a more lively interest and produce a deeper impression on the minds of the pupils. _ Prospectuses and references of the highest respectability may be had on application (if ‘by letter, post paid) to the Principal of Albion House, Worcester, or to Mr. Barlow, Bookseller, Bennett’s-hill, Birmingham. g % This day is Published, Price, 4io, 2s. 6d., Royal 8vo. 2s., HE NATURALIST, for JANUARY, No. VI. conducted by B. Maunp, é F.L.S., and W. Hott, F.G.S. ~ Conrents :—Description of the Golden Oriole, ( Oriolus galbula), by W. Mac Gilli- ray, A.M., F.R.S.E., &c., with a highly-finished coloured engraving—Reminiscences of the Rhine, Ornithological and Entomological—Notes of the Month—On the Dispersion of Plants—Notices of the Capture of Insects, with cursory observations thereon, by J. C. Dale, A.M.—Mr. Swainson’s Remarks on Vernacular Nomenclature examined, by C. T. Wood, Esq.—A Botanical Tour in Herefordshire, Monmouthshire, and South Wales, with acidental Notices of the Scenery, Antiquities, &c., by Edwin Lees, F.L.S., &c.—On the Evidence of Design observable in the vital economy of the Colchicum autumnale, (Linn.), or Common oy ai a Saffron, by W. A. Leighton, Esq., B.A., F.B.S., &c., illustrated with two lithographic Engravings—St. James’s Ornithological Society—Review—Extracts from Foreign Journals : Ehrenberg on Fossil Infusoria; Abstract of Count Mannerheim’s Pa- per on the Family of the Coleoptera Brachelytra. ~ en January the 10th will be ready, neatly bound in Cloth, Price, 4io. 17s., royal 8vo. 13s. 6d., " # The first Volume of THE NATURALIST, illustrated with SIX highly- nished coloured Engravings, and numerous Wood Cuts; containing Papers by R. I. Mur- hison, F.G.S., V.P.K.S.; J.C. Dale, A. M.; W. Mac Gillivray, A M., F.R.S.E., &c. ; Robert Dickson, M.D., F.L.S.; J. Curtis; Shirley Palmer, M. D.; James Wilson; 2. J. N. Streeten, M. D.; Langston Parker; Robert Mudie; J. Murray, F.L. & GS. ; WE. Blyth; C. Dubois, F.L.S. ; Neville Wood; W. A. Leighton, B.A., &c.; E. Lees, F.1.8.; the Rev. F. O. Morris; F. Ryland; the Rev. J. Bull, jun., F.G.S.; C. T. London: R. Groombridge, Panyers Alley, Paternoster-row. Third Edition, post 8vo., illustraied:-by Engravings and Wood-cuts, 15s. [[HE JOURNAL OF A NATURALIST. | i es hntk ee, and stones, we note, . Birds, insects, beasts, and many rural things.” | “ We again most strongly recommend this little unpretending volume to the atten. tion of every lover of Nature, and more particularly of our country readers. It will in duce them, we are sure, to examine more closely than they have been accustomed to de into the objects of animated nature, and such examination will prove one of the most in. nocent and the most satisfactory sources of gratification andamusement. It is a book tha wien to find its way into every rural drawing-room in the kingdom, and one that ma: ely be placed in the hands of every lady.”——Quarterly ee No. LXXVIIL. J i Murray, Albemarle-street. NEW EDITIONS OF DR. COMBE’S WORKS. The Fifth Edition, revised and enlarged, price 7s. 6d. of oe PRINCIPLES OF PHYSIOLOGY APPLIED TO THE PRE a, SERVATION OF HEALTH AND TO THE IMPROVEMENT OF PHY SICAL AND MENTAL EDUCATION. By Anprew Comses, M.D., Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians of Edinburgh, and Consulting Physician to their Mee ei the King and Queen of the Belgians. — Also now ready, the Second Edition, revised and ert ged, pe 4s. 64., of THE PHYSIOLOGY OF DIGESTION, CONSIDERED Witt ‘RE “LATION TO THE PRIN CIPLES OF DIETETICS. feiss London: Simpkin, Marshall, & Co., Stationers’ Hall Court, Ludgatestrest s a and Maclachlan & Stewart, ee ; es ADVERTISEMENTS are inated ae IS ANALYST, BOTANIS Si and NATURALIST on the following: Terms:—» oC" Not exceeding ten lines, comprising 2 Bick words 3 in aline :.-:....:.. 0 8 6 Per dine, beyond fen, ot 5.3. 055s, sehindgvgeedg es niacbeescaatoae rs ee a 2 00 6 Half a Page EB aah NRE Sead oS ae ces eS Pia he Sa hes 112 0 As ONTIPS Page. raise scone Wess ove etehenes seb ebe a nhs GEhel baad celbveelarens 212 0 Bitts, Prospectuses, &c., STITCHED mmgte Teak.) cia, innssapadeoay tate baat ges.) ewualtes eo Cisse cease eae ak MOS Se Not exceeding half'a Bheet':jiaisia 2s e. Fe Rs he as ccs evo age 2.2 0 Bs Av iole ShGet fv ives jose das incwcoe soy che Pass vavscuia teas vin tk Phebe Gon age 212 6 tS No Wood Cuts will be admitted. | Advertisements, Bills, and Prospectuses, (of a size not less than danny: 8vo., and | which 2,500 will be required), to be rs rwarded, by the 20th of the month, to Mr. Grog : bridge, Paternoster-row, London. t@ The 19th No. of Tue Anatyst will be > pian the Ist of April noha BENS fe BAA Se, ee M hisué Pk Gen ee —#. o. atie55:* i oeew Ly terse Sorve bee 2 5 zt aes 4 fers) re >. cy mops sansa} = +t iv Srirrss Ae ’ PoP peer errs Sere ES Bt re Be, ay bp) : aula DAib aba paagers = <= Lea @ meaebeye S be ae rots f oss tersest /—r4hacs sasee : e ce a Ee ts Titiaiess tesa at Vy Silesoiiereiea ga: seat ereesit ie) ; os heeeee - . thaseisest States a eaert ++ —— .* Ty Lee) S008 bens pe hte ph poy ened