excites, or time permits; and it will certainly be found, that the one order never attempts to fight, nor the other to work, let the emergency be ever so great. We propose to make a few remarks on various subjects treated of in this work, as they happened to occur to us on its perusal, without regard to their order or mutual connexion. The leaps of small animals, when compared with those of creatures of larger dimensions, are often supposed to imply a degree of muscular power excessively disproportioned to their size. But this, it has been observed, does not necessarily follow. For, it is to be considered, that if the weight to be moved, and the moving power, are diminished alike, the distances to which the animals are projected should be equal. Thus, if the grasshopper be a thousand times smaller than a cat, it should have but a proportional quantity, or one thousandth part of her strength, to leap an equal distance, for instance, six feet; but six feet seem an enormous leap for a grasshopper, being more shan fifty times its length, while it is but four or five times that of the cat. But as small animals cannot usually leap so far as some larger ones, this mode of reasoning would prove them to be proportionally weaker instead of stronger, if it were not remembered that such small weights do not acquire momentum to overcome the resistance of the air in the same degree as larger ones. There are differences of muscular strength in different animals, undoubtedly, but not such remarkable ones as is sometimes supposed. The readers of the "Light of Nature," will detect some ludicrous points of resemblance between certain bivalved shell-fish, described on page 107, (which perform all their operations with an instrument bearing a general resemblance to a leg and foot, but which they cause to assume almost any kind of shape their exigencies may require,) and the celebrated vehicles of that highly imaginative work, which, according to their several wants or occasions, could thrust out an eye, an ear, a hand, or a pair of duck-legs. There are some singular peculiarities in individuals with respect to the sense of smelling. The fragrance of the rose, so agreeable to most persons, produces in many a very disagreeable, and in some a distressing catarrhal affection. The remarkable distress, also, which is experienced by some on the presence of a cat, even when they do not see or hear it, cannot easily be accounted for by any other supposition than that of an extraordinary susceptibility of the olfactory organ of such persons to the particular and pretty powerful effluvia of this animal. Philosophers have given various explanations of the manner in which single vision happens with two eyes. The most simple and satisfactory of these is not noticed in this work. It was proposed, we believe by Dr Wells in the Philosophical Transactions. When we look at an object with one eye, we see it in a particular line, which is an extension of the optic axis of that eye; when we look at it with the other, it is seen in a different line. Thus, if we place a candle at the distance of ten feet, and look at a finger held up at arm's length in a line between the nose and the candle, with the right eye closed, the finger will appear to be on a line stretching towards the right side of the candle; if the left eye only is closed, it will appear to be on one directed towards the left side. But if these lines are caused to cross at the place of the object, which is done by opening both eyes and directing the optic axes towards the finger, that is, by looking directly at it, it is plain that both eyes will see the same object in the same place, or in other words, they will see but one object. This may be confirmed by looking at the candle. The finger in that case being no longer at the point of intersection, will appear indistinct and double. Single vision, then, is effected by causing the optic axes to cross at the place of the object, or part of an object, of which we wish to obtain a distinct view. The field of distinct vision when the object is near the eye, is very small, and every thing around it appears more or less confused and doubled; but we correct this impression, not, as supposed by some, by the knowledge obtained by touch, at least so far as its singleness is concerned, but by rapidly crossing the optic axes on every object, or part of an object around, thus bringing each separately into the proper field or focus. In looking at distant objects where the prolonged axes approach nearer to parallel lines, vision is never so distinct as when the object is near, but the field of distinctness is comparatively greater. Many illustrations of this explanation might be brought forward, but it seems unnecessary in a cursory review of this sort, to dwell longer on the subject. On page 141, among other judicious remarks respecting infancy, we find the following. Infants, recently after birth, frequently suffer from giving them, instead of the mother's milk, wine-whey, water-gruel, and similar unnatural kinds of nourishment. out the finer specimens, the race is not so apt to degenerate. It is observed on page 167, that dogs are unable to digest vegetables. It is difficult for them to do so at first; but their stomachs become habituated to it by use. Dogs and cats learn to eat and digest bread very well. The power of education and habit over the appetites of domestic animals, is well exemplified in cats, which, when young, delight in raw meat, their natural food, but after some years of domestication, will refuse any that has not been cooked. The author considers the question of the migration of the smaller birds, and inclines to the opinion, which, indeed, is the most probable, that they do actually migrate. The few instances in which such birds have been dug from the mud of ponds, or the banks of rivers, seem to be only exceptions to the general rule; since it is difficult to imagine why these instances should not be more frequent, especially about places where these birds have been accustomed to assemble in great numbers before their periodical disappearance. The objection arising from the supposed difficulty of such long journeys, loses much of its force, when we consider the great rapidity of the flight of birds. Thus, Spallanzani computes that of the swallow at ninety-two miles an hour. "A falcon belonging to Henry IV., of France, escaped from Fontainbleau, and in twenty-four hours was found at Malta, a distance of one thousand three hundred and fifty miles; a velocity nearly equal to fiftyseven miles an hour, supposing the falcon to have been on the wing the whole time. But as such birds never fly by night, and allowing the day to be at the longest, his flight was perhaps equal to seventy-five miles an hour. It is probable, however, that he neither had so many hours of light, in the twenty-four, to pursue his journey, nor that he was retaken immediately on his arrival." One of the greatest objections to the notion of the migration of small birds, arises from flocks not being more frequently seen performing them; but it may be supposed that they move singly towards their destination during the day, assembling only, if they assemble at all, in the night, and usually in unfrequented places. Under the head of Torpidity of Animals, we find an allusion to the various accounts, which have been published from time to time, of living toads found imbedded in the trunks of old trees, or in solid rocks. This is one of the most remarkable anomalies in the history of animal life. That this can be supported without any modification of action, which implies destruction and reproduction of parts-which seems impossible in these instances-is one of the most singular phenomena with which we are acquainted. Some of these accounts, however, confirm what is related in another part of this work, of the longevity of the toad. Practices of this sort are still among the disgraces of this enlightened age. Perhaps not one among fifty infants escapes the nurse's spoon. Their tender stomachs are offended, their natural appetite palled, and their sleep disturbed, by the effects of the absurd hypothesis, that they are born in a state of starvation. Still more abominable is the doctrine, that the stomach is in a state of disease, and cannot perform its functions till set in motion by medicine. The author attributes to the absence of these and other absurdities, the strength, agility, and fine proportions of savages. This, however, should be received with some allowance. It should be considered, that in savage life, those only are selected, as it were, whose firm constitutions survive the hardships of such a state. The feebler Our readers will excuse us from dwelling children perish, and sometimes, perhaps, long upon this work; since there is so little are purposely destroyed in infancy. And fault to be found with it. For, without beby a natural result of this sort of picking ing critical, as was long ago remarked of THIS book begins with an exceedingly ridiculous and impertinent advertisement, by way of preface. It runs thus. I have written somewhat heretofore with a sincere desire to please fastidious critics, and a busy public; but not finding it marvellously easy to discompose the rigid and inflexible gravity of their risible muscles, any farther than a bitter, intolerable SNEER would have a tendency to effect it-1 have written the following exclusively for my own gratification and pleasure-ne plus ultra. Now that sundry gentlemen-and sundry who were not so in any sense of the wordhave amused themselves with writing prose and verse, we doubt not, although it be but a foolish pastime at best; but for an author of a would-be Poem, to go so far beyond the usual "solicitation of friends," or "youthful efforts which may amuse;"-to leave all customary or tolerable affectation so far behind him, as to make such a preface as this, it is really treating the public,-before whom every man who publishes, comes a supplicant,-with too much contempt. Pray, Mr Genio, seeing that you wrote for your own amusement, for whose did you print this product of-not your labours-your pleasures? Probably, when you underwent the pains of publishing, it never occurred to you that there were any people in the world but your printer and his devil; and as to the expense of the matter, it was doubtless a comfort to help a clever man in the way of his trade! We are more willing to treat this absurdity as it deserves, because something very like it has met us lately at the beginning of a good many American books; and as it happens to be altogether nonsense, we should be glad to meet it rather less frequently. Men write from various motives; some for fame, some for money, and some very few for the good they hope to do by the truths they publish ;-but it is quite too silly for any one to pretend that his motive in becoming an author, "was his own exclusive gratification," or any thing else which would render him indifferent as to the reception which his book may meet with from "fastidious critics, and a busy public." But this advertisement, bad as it is, is not without its merits;-it gives a very just and prophetic indication of the character of the two and twenty pages, which it ushers into the world in a manner so remarkably decorous. The "Mystic Mount," and the "Voice," contain seven or eight hundred lines of exceedingly blank verse. The "Mount" is truly mystical; insomuch that it is impossible to tell why Mr Genio climbed up it--what he did there--or why he did not there remain unto this day. Perhaps a solution of! these uncertainties will be given in the next edition which Mr G. publishes for his amusement. In the mean time, as we are utterly unable to make any sense of it, we shall proceed to show what sort of nonsense the author has made. Then came the voice-I heard it now-as o'er * The wave of gulfing Time it comes, no more Soft and mellifluent as wont, but harsh As felon's death-knell o'er his dungeon vault. The running title for "The Mystic Mount" is "A Vision,"-and whether Mr A faint shriek, G. saw the mount in a vision, or being on That seemed to say—FAREWELL-I heard—and this mount saw a vision, we are not alto- Around on lone vacuity--my thoughts gazed gether certain. We incline to the former Wild as the tempest raged-Oh! she had gone! supposition, on the ground that such a moun- Death to my hopes, and joys, and love, and fame tain as this turns out to be, is not likely Came on that blast of Desolation!-Now to be seen any where else; there are, how-Be it the Fancy's vision-ONE can tellOr be it grief delineating truth, ever, circumstances which indicate the That Voice upon the ear of Memory contrary. The author begins with stating Rings like the boding death-watch of Despair. that it is midnight,-and that he is alone, aloft on the verge of a "wild beetling" cliff. There he stays during eight pages, seeing nothing, but saying many queer things relative to a very great variety of topics. About the middle of the ninth page, we suppose the "Vision" comes,though "might" generally indicates the potential rather than the actual. vision. Enter to give a just idea of the merits of these The passages we have quoted, may serve poems ;-but as we feel kindly disposed towards Mr Genio, we will quote another from page 5, which is about as pretty as any we can find. But the bright moon, that rose serenely o'er The rain-dropped canopy of umbrag'd woods, The mimic lake within the woodbine's bell, Oh! and there, Perchance, amid the Eden bowers of light, O'er-canopied with aramanthine flowers And dewed with tears of pearl, that trembling steal The bright moon's beams lay on the topmost height Living and blossoming in angel-smiles, Unbidden, and involuntary o'er The alabaster cheek of cherubim, as they Dash screaming felons down the black abyss Of hopless, starless, bottomless perdition;Perchance that there, where sin comes not in pride Ushering her scorpion-vestured daughter-WoeAnd she leading Despair-in joy again My long-departed parent's form might burst On Rapture's eye-&c. &c. At the bottom of the next page comes another vision, of which we know nothing but that it is a "she,"-whether maid or matron, mother, wife, sister, or mistress, we do not recollect to have found stated. Then a "vestment purely white" is seen, and lastly While Melancholy mused there came above me, Arching the lonely, solitary cliff, A rainbow, dyed in heaven's own fountains, girt We rather think Marietta disappears, but either she returns, or some new personage on the sixteenth page, finishes the vis ion thus. And gazed, till all my soul became a fount Of the "Voice," we are really unable to say more than it occupies six pages, and is wholly unintelligible! In justice to the author and our readers, we will quote all the lines which throw any light whatever upon the origin, nature, purpose, or effect of this voice. There was a Voice-'tis silent now, and ne'er Will blend its music with my soul again, Of those erratic clouds, and as they fell 66 Let no man or woman undertake to read these poems aloud; such exhausting periods never did we encounter, and well may Mr G. boast of having accomplished things His discursive imagination leads him from unattempted yet in prose or rhyme." topic to topic, until the latter part of his speech totally forgets the beginning. The book is open before us at the 15th page, and a period begins there which contains thirty lines and divers fine figures. To save room, our printers are requested to print the same without regarding the division into lines, as the melody of the versification is not likely to be hurt by this economy. But one among them was the spell-word, known to forms and beings bodiless on high alone; it pass'd her colourless lips, and flew along the smiling concave-and it seem'd she rose, and I was striving to arouse from that lethargic torpor, which had steeped external sense in Lethe, and infused a deadly chill into my curdling blood, when, like the Volcan's voice along the red torrent of lava bursting down his height, came hollow mutterings, and the yelling shades of Evil whirled from that unlit Profound beyond the cliff in massive phalanxes, wielding above infernal weapons, and aloft, below, around encircling me with snakes of venom'd fangs, and forked tongues, that filled the welkin with their hissings, and fierce fires, like wild Sahara's, all around me roll'd in volum'd masses broad, enkindling all the scenery, and withering every shrub. and living thing, save enfranchised spirits pure, unto a hue of haggard ghastliness; then came terrific shouts of laughter, like the gladness of the Demon of the Waste, o'er the triumphal minstrelsy of hell played by those lost, abandoned Ariels, who wont by their rich tones to lead on seraphim through heaven's gem-barr'd portals, and now were cursed with notes, that once were pure and holy, fraught with trebly damning recollections dire. After all, if these pieces contained noth The beautifullest hues of dancing Eveand not to gaze upon any thing again until his soul becomes a fount of " perfume-bliss and gilead." MISCELLANY. LA FAYETTE. ing but nonsense, we should not have but the hope of seeing him pass by cheered This will be so, and it should be so. The thought them deserving so much notice; them through the slow watches of the night. meeting between the Marquis de La Fayette but we have spoken of them at large, be- As soon as the obscurity of twilight had and the people of this country is no comcause they do seem to us to exhibit occa- deepened into darkness, lanterns and torch-mon occurrence; past ages can produce no sionally bright gleams of true talent. On es were placed by the way-side for many precedent, and the usual principles of huthe whole, the book is a very poor pro- miles; even, indeed, to the seat of Gov. man conduct afford no rule for it. Fifty duction; still we are strongly inclined to Eustis, where it was known that he would years ago, a few weak colonies were strugbelieve, that the author may yet do hon- stop. This was not done by concert and gling to withstand oppression and be free. our to himself and to his country, if he previous arrangement and the command of A nobleman of high rank left the court of will in future remember and feel that he authority, but it was the common expression his sovereign, the hopes and the honours writes "exclusively" for a public, who, of a common feeling;-it was a simple but proper to his rank, the luxuries which however "busy" they may be, will not most eloquent circumstance. In Europe, a wealth offered him, and the peaceful hapbusy themselves about him, until he writes sovereign might have called forth his ten piness of home, and came to aid those colowhat they can understand and approve. He thousand troops to present their muskets nies. He had and could have no motive must also learn not to think critics "fastid- and roll their drums and wave their stand- but love for our cause; he left all that men ious" because they beg him to write intel-ards before him; or have bidden the popu- commonly seek, and came to all that men ligibly, and to put rather less than thirty lace come forth from their hovels or their commonly dread; and he came unsolicited, lines into a period, and to make no more fields, and array themselves by the way- for we knew him not until we knew him such utterly ridiculous lines as side, and be ready to cast their flowers at from his offer. He brought to the aid of his feet and shout,-and long for the farce an almost desperate cause, men, and money, to be over. But here, the voice of the and personal assistance, and the influence nation hails him,—the hearts of all the of his example. He endured extreme hardpeople are throbbing in his presence. He ship, toil, sacrifice, and danger, with a more came to our city, and all that we could de- unfailing constancy, than if he were fightvise or execute to his honor was done; he ing in his own cause, and-excepting a few passed through triumphal arches built by months which he passed at home in effectufreemen whom he had helped to make free; ally soliciting the assistance of his counhe heard in our crowded streets the cheers try—he remained here until the worst of of more thousands who had come here only our conflict was over and our independence to look upon him, than he found dwelling achieved; then his object was effected, and here when, fifty years ago, he came to our he returned to his family. For nearly fifty assistance; and when he stopped by our years he leads a life always consistent with broad Common to take the wreath offered its opening. In the mean time, this nation, him by one of twenty-five hundred children, by whose birth he stood, has grown to be a educated in the free schools of a city, mighty people, enjoying undisturbed and where in his youth he had found scarcely unexampled prosperity and happiness, in so many men grown to manhood, then he consequence of those principles and that may have learned what an infinite blessing independence which he fought for with our he helped to secure to us, and may have fathers, and helped mainly to establish. felt why we offer him a gratitude so pro- He comes to this land once more, that he found. may see these glorious fruits of those gloAnd so will it be to the end. We pro-rious victories; and is it possible that we fess no power of prophecy, and none is should feel or should express a superfluous needed for this prediction. The same feel- gratitude? The honours due to Fayette ings await him wherever he can go in our cannot be measured by those which we pay country, and the same natural and direct to other surviving officers of the revolution. expressions of these feelings. The young There is not merely no one whose rank in have heard their fathers tell or they have the army equalled his, and no one whose asread of his sacrifices and his deeds for our sistance was so peculiarly valuable. They country; his name is intimately connect- of that noble band, who are yet living, ed with great events which have forcibly have always lived among us, and to them struck their imagination and taken strong our thanks can be and should be always hold upon their memory,-and they throng paid; now we are discharging a debt of to gaze upon him with the passionate gratitude which has been accumulating for eagerness of youth. The middle-aged know more years than many who pay it have livmore distinctly and feel more deeply all ed. But we should especially remember that he did, and all that they owe to that all that Fayette abandoned, and the disdeliverance, towards which he brought as heartening condition of those to whom he sistance so important, so unlooked for, so came, and the pure passion for liberty purely disinterested; and how can they which alone could have brought him hither; help looking upon him, as upon one whose and we shall then feel that this case canlike few nations and ages have seen, and not be judged by any other that has occurthey shall see no more. The old have not red since History began to record men's forgotten that he came to their aid and doings. Perhaps we have erred in supposfought their battles and bled for their ing that any who are among us will refuse sakes,-the thoughts of their youth have to join in the universal acclaim which is returned, when the name of Fayette was now uttering the welcome of a people to familiar in their mouths as a household an illustrious guest. We repeat, the enword; for years and years they have re- thusiasm felt from the boundaries to the membered him and talked of him; they boundaries of our land is as wise and honhave known that he lived in a foreign land, ourable as it is natural. If there be any they have longed to see him, and rejoice who dare to deem the homage paid to that they shall not die without the sight. Fayette unnecessary or excessive, let them AT length this friend of our fathers has reached our shores; where he came in his youth to suffer and to combat with a few whom hope had almost left, he has come in his age to receive a nation's welcome. We are a young people and have little experience in pomp and courtliness; we are comparatively poor and very practical and economical;-we are republicans, and would rather be our own kings than reduce the majesty of the nation within the bounds of a regal diadem,-and there is no monarch to bid us welcome his guest, and be exceedingly joyous and thankful at the place and time appointed. Yet, for all this, we do not believe the old world ever saw a triumphal march like that which Fayette is now making through our land. We do not speak of the sincerity and earnestness of the greetings which he receives, but of the visible pomp and splendour of the homage and the honours which are paid him. He landed at New York, and the whole of that great city went out to meet him with a cry of gladness and of welcome. A wise and just and honourable enthusiasm, which the slumber of many years could not extinguish, awoke at his approach. As soon as it was known that he would visit first the eastern states, the whole population of the country arose, as one man, to prepare for his coming. His progress was perpetually ar rested by successive multitudes, who could not let him pass by, until he had gathered their tribute of joy and gratitude. The towns which he passed through were ready with their homage. His journey was impeded, and he did not arrive in Dorchester until the night had almost passed; but crowds of all ages and both sexes were watching for him to the last hour. They who awaited him by the road-side felt no want of slumber; they did not expect to take him by the hand or to touch his garment, hide such thoughts in silence,-if uttered, they will be heard with scorn and with rebuke. In this, if never before, the whole people of this land are united, for the whole people know who it is that is among them, and how and why he came in the days of their fathers, and every man rejoices to find his feelings borne out by the sympathy of all around him. EDITORIAL GROANS. knowledged utter ignorance of the poems, discuss the character of the fact, we shall or, well as I love thee, I would cut the con- hardly undertake a formal notice of it. nexion at once and forever. In future Our readers may be interested by a very keep this sort of trash to yourself. Never did brief abstract of the statements contained I encounter such a bitter harsh metre; in this pamphlet,-for interesting they are, ten lines of it set my teeth on edge very whatever opinion be formed of them. It is satisfactorily. I could make smoother verses impossible to doubt the principal facts here while whetting a saw secundum artem; a asserted, without altogether denying the fool ab initio would write better sense; and validity of human testimony; and they brother C***** would dictate more vigor- must be thought to afford an astonishing inous poetry from between two feather-beds stance of the power of mind over body; on such a day as the last I spent in T******, but respecting the miraculous character of WE beseech our gentle readers to recol- I am out of all manner of patience to see the circumstance, different opinions do and lect the average range of the thermometer such a waste of good paper and printer's obviously must exist. for the last month. If any one of them ink. Carey & Lea ought to be put under In the summer of 1817 Mrs Mattingly beever was so foolish as to put pen to paper guardianship for wasting their estate; and gan to be sick with some disease in her in a dog-day, he will appreciate our efforts their printer's devil to be sent to the hos- left side; a swelling about the size of a and our merit. To say nothing of the utter pital for lunatics for not quitting their em- pigeon's egg became perceptible, and the indisposition to earn one's bread, which this ployment when they undertook to publish pain and soreness soon became excessive. hot weather produces,-nothing of the siren the work. Such verse as this gives me the Her disease increased until all hope of her call of a sofa, to enjoy upon its plump cush- same sensation of mind as nausea gives to recovery was given up The best medical ions the pure luxury of listlessness, we beg the stomach; it is truly intellectual ipeca- advice was procured. Drs Jones, Cutbush, leave to suggest the fact, that it is in good cuanha. "Twould be a week before one M'Williams, and Blake attended her, and did truth both physically and intellectually im- could swallow the whole divided into take-all which professional skill could do to cure possible to work during a Sirocco. Even able doses; and as for its operation, it is or relieve her. Their efforts were wholly the night does not help the matter much-like certain African poisons of which I have vain, and she was declared to be entirely for it is such terribly hard work to live read, that remain in the body forever, ha- beyond the reach of medicine. For many during the day, one is utterly exhausted rassing the poor wretch, who has taken months immediately previous to the cure, with fatigue when evening comes, and the them, at irregular intervals to the end of her pains were ceaseless and excruciating; shadows hardly last long enough to supply his days. I have sent back the book, for she frequently expectorated large quantistrength to endure the toil of daily exist the sight of it makes me think all the while ties of blood and very offensive matter, her Unluckily, all this indisposition and of the week I was sick in Cambridge, when weakness was extreme, and there was every inability falls upon our contributors, who I lived upon water-gruel seasoned with yel- indication of disease of the most severe and are not compelled to write, as upon us, who low snuff that had been taken by my nurse, alarming character. The Rev. Mr Dubuismust hear the printer's call,-ay, and and quenched my thirst with a delicious son, of Washington, communicated to her the obey it too,-whether we have copy on mixture of calomel, rhubarb, and coffee. directions of the famous Prince Hohenloe, hand or not; wherefore we are convinced The last line of the book, my child-mon of Germany;-in conformity to them she that our readers will grant an editor to be, fils,' will, I am certain, stick in my memo- performed a novena, or nine days' worship, of all animals, the most worthy of commis- ry as a chesnut bur would in my throat, to in honor of the name of Jesus;-having eration;-especially in hot weather. the end of my life. Do, for mercy's sake, confessed to the Rev. Mr Matthews, of St before you send me any more American Patrick's church in Washington, the Euchapoems, read four lines of them yourself.-I rist was administered to her about four know of but two American poets, but hope o'clock in the morning by Mr Dubuisson. we may have more; and am not nicer in Her tongue and throat were so parched, my taste than the sick Irishman, who aver- some minutes elapsed before she could swalred that he had as lief take jalap as beef-low the bread; but when she did so, she steak, if it had but the same relish ;-I am sure I would as willingly read Simmons as Bryant, if he would write as good poetry. If you want a review of Julian, &c. you may publish this part of my letter; for no other review will I write of them. J.S." ence. Right seldom do we bow the knee to blue devils; but just now we were almost overcome at receiving a letter, of which the following is a principal part,—just at the moment, when we were expecting an article from the writer of it, who in the main is a tolerably clever fellow,-when the thermometer is not much above 65°. We publish it for divers reasons:-firstly, 'twill rather amaze him, and teach our contributors in future, to beware how they send us scolding letters instead of scolding articles-to which we have much less objection; secondly, 'twill serve as a pretty fair review-making due allowance for the savage temperament of the writer-of Julian, &c.;* thirdly, 'twill fill a column. "You sent me what you called a poem; a worse misnomer than if you were to implead John Doe by the name of Richard Roe. Review, sayest thou? The Gazette may go to ruin and involve the publishers in bankruptcy before I will read five lines more than I have read of Julian and the Farewell of Buona-parte; that is to say, before I will read two and a half lines of each of them again. Praise it? I would sooner write an essay for a medical journal, setting forth the revivifying qualities of Medea's caldron. It is well that you ac Julian, a dramatic fragment, and Napoleon's Farewell Address to his Son. By J. W. Simmons. Philadelphia. Carey & Lea. 1823. 12mo. pp. 45. MRS MATTINGLY. DOUBTLESS most of our readers saw in the newspapers of last spring some account of a miraculous cure said to have been performed in Washington, upon the person of the lady whose name we have written above. A pamphlet, stating very minutely the facts attending this singular occurrence and verifying them by affidavits of the most authoritative character, has been recently published in the city of Washington.* It was sent to us to review, but as it has no literary character or pretensions whatever, and we feel no disposition to * A Collection of Affidavits and Certificates relative to the Wonderful Cure of Mrs Ann Mattingly, which took place in the city of Washington, D. C. on the tenth of March, 1824. Washington. 1824. pp. 41. Some was instantly relieved from the pain and POETRY. HYMN OF THE WALDENSES. And the broad goodly lands, with pleasant airs That nurse the fruit and wave the grain, are theirs. Yet better were this mountain wilderness, Thou, Lord, dost hold the thunder; the firm land Yet, mighty God, yet shall thy frown look forth OMNIPRESENCE. B. There is an unseen Power around, And not when bright and busy Day Is round us with its crowds and cares, And not when Night with solemn sway Bids awe-hushed souls breathe forth in prayers,- Not when on sickness' weary couch He writhes with pain's deep, long drawn .groan, Not when his steps in freedom touch In proud Belshazzar's gilded hall, 'Mid music, lights, and revelry,That Present Spirit looked on all, From crouching slave, to royalty. When sinks the pious Christian's soul, And scenes of horror daunt his eye, He hears it whispered through the air, "A Power of Mercy still is nigh." The Power that watches, guides, defends, AGNES. Or, severed from thy taper stem Or, in some regal hot-house placed, Or, 'scaped from tempests, drought, and men, Thou here may'st stay; And, having spread thy odours round, Sweet little flower, in thee I see And man's sad fate. Sometimes he's tost on trouble's billow; And having passed through hope and fear, WRAC. TO THE "LADY READING A VALENTINE," AN EXQUISITE PICTURE BY ALLSTON. Embodied visions of a poet's mind! Those faultless charms no earth-born model gave, But soft, and bright, and exquisite, they came From purer realms to gleam before his eye, His gifted eye, with more than mortal grace! A beam of heaven yet lingers on those locks, An angel's purity is on that brow, And mortal breath hath never passed those lips. As motionless, as fair, and mild thou art, As seraphs in the dreams of dying maids. And yet the deep, the inward, sober bliss That gleams around that mouth is human joy, Too deep-too delicate for outward smiles. Read on! I almost see thine eye-balls move Glancing beneath their thin and snow-white lids, From word to word along each tender line. I almost mark the gentle, happy sigh That heaves thy dark and closely folded robe. And soon that faultless hand will turn the page That thou mayest fondly read all o'er again. And yet! oh, move not yet! break not the spell; Smile not, change not that almost pensive air; Unconscious of our gaze, with downcast eyes, Oh! thus forever read thy Valentine! AGNES. THE LOWLAND'S VESPER SIGH. There's scarce a ripple in the tide, The breeze in fragrance sweet has died The songsters chaunt their failing strain, The trees and banks of green. Beside the water's silent wave While, darker in the distance spread, ON THE APPARENT DIRECTION OF THE EYES IN A PORTRAIT. Dr Wollaston has read a paper before the Royal Society of London on this subject, our account of which must be necessarily imperfect from the want of the very curious and interesting drawings with which it was accompanied. In this paper Dr W. observes, that when we consider the precision with which we judge whether the eyes of another are fixed upon ourselves, it is surprising that the grounds of such judgment should be unknown to us, and that most persons in attempting to explain the subject, would overlook some of the circumstances by which they are generally guided. Though it may not be possible to demonstrate by any decisive experiment on the eyes of living persons, what those circumstances are, we may find convincing arguments to prove their influence, if it can be shown, in the case of portraits, that the same ready decision that we pronounce on the direction of the eyes, is founded in a great measure on the view presented to us of parts which have not been considered as assisting our judgment. Dr W. then adverts to the influence of the form of the iris as announcing the direction of the eye in portraits, and to that of the variable portion of the white shown when the eye is variously directed in living persons; he remarks, however, that, even in real eyes, we are not guided by this circumstance alone, but are unconsciously aided by the concurrent position of the face; and he illustrates this position by reference to a series of drawings, showing that the apparent position of the eye is powerfully influenced by that of the adjacent parts of the face, especially those which are most prominent. And these considerations are not limited in their application merely to cases of lateral turn of the eyes or face, but the same principles also apply to instances of moderate inclination |