When elements to elements conform, And dust is as it should be-shall we not Feel all we see less dazzling, but more warm? The bodiless thought-the spirit of each spotOf which even now at times we share the immortal lot?" THE FORTUNATE AND UNFORTUNATE HOURS OF EVERY DAY IN THE WEEK. IT was long held a favourite opinion amongst the early Arabian philosophers, that, at certain hours on certain days, good or bad influences operated; and the experience of succeeding ages has, in some degree, tended to corroborate this theory. Believing that our readers will feel interested in a matter which is so easily put to the proof, we have translated the following indication of the malefic and benefic hours from a scarce illuminated Arabic M.S., formerly in the possession of the celebrated artistastrologer Mr. John Varley, whose library contained the most valuable works on the occult sciences extant. MONDAY.-The second hour after sunrise is evil and unfortu nate, also the hour before midnight,-avoid and shun each of these; neither marry, plant, build, travel, voyage, or bargain; for success in those hours will not attend thee, the evil Saturn being Lord of their duration. The fortunate hours of each Monday are the third hour, accounted from sunrise, the hour choose these for all thy works of magnitude and importance, immediately before noon, and also two hours before midnight; and they will prosper. to call presentiment, is also equally inexplicable. Whenever some evil threatens or danger is found to environ those susceptable to such influences, there is felt a mysterious trammel upon the spirits which we may in vain endeavour to shake off. There are few who have not at some time or other been seized with this singular foreboding; and instances of it, too well authenticated to admit of dispute, are narrated in most of the sacred and profane writers. When Addison makes his Cato, sometime before his fatal exit, exclaim "What means this heaviness that hangs upon me?" or where Banquo remarks prior to departing on his eventful journey, “A heavy summons hangs like lead upon me!" the two feelings intended to be expressed are akin to what we have termed presentiment, and to which De Foe has made some forcible allusions in his popular work of Robinson Crusoe. To what, then, are we to attribute these singular emotions which every man has experienced, perhaps more frequently than he is aware of? Shall we impute them to the agency of spiritual beings, or more properly, to the "Divinity that stirs within us, and points out an hereafter?" Let the vaunted arrogance of science furnish if it can, a reply. The chilling shudder to which we are all subject, and which is caused, we know not why, is popularly supposed, in England, to be the result of footsteps passing over your grave. The Arabians believe in a more poetical superstition, and allege that such a feeling is a sign that either the time of your own, or of some near relative's death is then being decided. In all countries, however, this strange sensation is regarded with awe, and attributed to some external cause apart from the system. Now, may not it arise from a perception, through the finer organs, of some spiritual being hovering around, and the shudder be the consequence of the contact of corporeality with the invisible essence? And how fascinating and delightful is a creed like this to every rightly-constituted mind! The knowledge of a beloved parent, a faithful friend, or the pure spirit of one we loved being ever near us, would make us all better and more worthy of their protection, whilst it would diffuse a more kindly feeling amongst our fellow-creatures. There is nothing unholy or alarming in such tenets: on the contrary, it would prepare us with more fitness to follow those who have gone. We most fervently believe that the air is thronged with the immortal guardians of our race, who, under certain recognised regulations, are allowed to hold communion with mortals. Bold as this assertion may sound in the forty-fifth year of the nineteenth century, we have the innate sympathies of all the more intellectual class to strengthen our assumption. In the calm repose of a summer's evening, amid the lakes, in the full blaze of moonlight upon the hills, or indeed, wherever the corrosive cares of this busy world may be for a time excluded and forgotten, the imagination takes a loftier and more expansive range, and we feel in spirit, at least, elevated above the common dust beneath us. It is in periods such as these that a conviction becomes forced upon the mind of a higher destiny, and that in the contemplation of such a theme we may so etherialize our grosser nature, as to become cognizant of the more subtle existences that people the very elements, as one, who was himself a communer with the world invisible, has poetically exclaimed : "And when at length the mind shall be all free TUESDAY.-The first hour after sunrise is unfortunate, as is also the hour before noonday, strife and contention being then hour immediately before midnight, and the hour immediately The most fortunate hours of Tuesday are the likely to occur. after noon, that is to say, from twelve o'clock till one. WEDNESDAY.-This day avoid, as endued with the evil influences of the planets, the third hour reckoned from sunrise, and the hour next before sunset; for little can prosper that is performed therein. Choose as fortunate the second hour after sunset and the hour before midnight. In love and marriage these are pre-eminently fortunate. THURSDAY.-The hour after noon (from twelve to one) is particularly unfortunate, as also are the first and second hours after sunset. The first hour after sunrise is pre-eminently endued with the force of benevolent stars. Whatever thou doest then is likely to prosper. FRIDAY.-In the hour before noon and the hour before midnight do nothing which is of importance, for stars of malignant influence reign at those periods; but choose as fortunate the second hour from noon and the hour before sunset, and then shall fortune favour thee. SATURDAY.-The first hour after sunrise and the second after noonday (from one to two o'clock) are unfortunate, and it is vain therein to expect aught of good will happen. The fortunate hours are the second after sunrise and the last before sunset. The whole of Sunday may be considered ruled by favourable stars, except the hour before sunset. NOTE. The time of sunset and sunrise are easily found in any almanack for the day required, and should always be referred to for the election of favourable periods. The calculation of particular days in their good or evil influences, as dependent upon the aspects of the planets, will be observed duly set forth in the Astrological Calendar of the week; and this table of influences should always be consulted for a guide as to when any undertaking of moment should be commenced. FOUNTAINS.-Retiring to the vicinity of fountains to perform pious or philosophical vigils, and to converse with the spiritual world, was a common custom from the earliest times, both amongst the Pagans of Europe and of Asia. We find Numa at the font of Egeria; and Kai Khosroo (as Ferdousi tells us) laying aside the diadem of Iran, to immerse himself in divine contemplations in a cave watered by a sacred spring. TO MAKE A SIXPENCE VANISII.-The exhibitor, who on all occasions should endeavour to keep his audience ignorant of what he is going to perform, must begin by enquiring which of the company can hold a sixpence secure in his hand. Amongst the numerous applicants he may now select one, and bidding him ex tend the palm of his right hand, place the coin on its centre, pressing it so hard with the thumb that the impression will be retained for a few seconds. Regaining the sixpence with his finger and thumb, he must jerk his arm up and down twice or thrice, and at the last movement of the hand above his head the exhibitor should adroitly conceal the sixpence in his hair, when bringing the hand down again, and pretending to place the coin in the palm which must be instantly closed, the sixpence will have seemed to have vanished. The delusion may be completed by the operator putting his hat on his head, and after allowing time for conjecture commanding the coin to appear in the hat, where, by slightly inclining the head and removing the hat, it will of course be found and identified by the company. HOW TO EXHIBIT THREE HANDS.-Whilst expatiating in company on feats of strength, ask the two strongest persons in the room, to tie your thumbs together. Borrow a piece of cord of moderate thickness, and whilst engaging the holders in conversation, contrive to slip the two first fingers of the right hand over the cord, so as to gain, in clasping the left hand over the right, a space wide enough to extricate the thumbs without difficulty. Having had your thumbs tied as closely as possible, solicit the loan of a hat, which must be placed over the hands. You now show the company that your two hands are tightly secured, but that you mean to astonish them with a third. In order to do so, slip the right hand adroitly out of the cord, and flourishing it in the face of the audience, immediately restore the thumbs to their former position, whereby you will seem to have played with three hands. If cleverly managed, this simple illusion is one of the most inexplicable. TO PASS A TUMBLER THROUGH A TABLE.-Place the spectators on an opposite side of the table to where you sit, having spread, unperceived, a handkerchief across your knees. Now take a drinking glass--a tumbler with no stem is preferable-and covering it with paper, mould the covering, as nearly as possible, to the shape of the glass. Whilst uttering some cabalistic phrases, drop the the glass into your handkerchief unperceived, and as the paper retains the shape, you will have no difficulty in making the lookers-on believe the tumbler to be still beneath it. Passing the glass in the left hand beneath the table, you now crush the paper down with your right, when the glass will appear to have been sent through the table. It is needless to add, the spectators should be placed at some little distance on a level; and if a cloth is over the table, an advantage is gained. TO DRAW A HANDKERCHIEF THROUGH THE LEG.-Take a silk-handkerchief, which having twisted round into a bandage, you proceed to tie round the calf of the leg as thus :-Begin by tying it from the outside; then, bringing it under the leg, loop it there with the fore-finger of the right hand, so as to secure itthen quickly bring the two ends back again, and tie them in as many knots as may seem advisable. Having shown them to the company as properly secured, you expertly detach the loop beneath the leg, and drawing off the handkerchief with the right hand, the bandage will seem to have passed through the limb. For this illusion, never before explained, the Emperor of Russia presented a costly diamond ring to Herr Dobler, the most celebrated of modern necromancers. THE RESTORED RIBBON.-Have two pieces of coloured ribbon of exactly the same size and appearance, one of which being damped may be secured in the palm of the hand, previous to exhibiting. The other may be cut in pieces and burned in a plate by the audience. Taking now the ashes, you call for a basin of water with which you moisten them, stating by the magical influence of the "cold water cure," the colour and form of the burned ribbon will be restored. Rubbing the damp ashes in the hand, you draw forth, at the same time, the concealed ribbon, which will appear to be the same that had been consumed. TO CAUSE A SIXPENCE TO APPEAR IN A GLASS.-Having turned up the cuffs of your coat, begin by placing halfpence on your elbow and catching them in your hand, a feat of dexterity which is easily performed. Then allege you can catch even a smaller coin in a more difficult position. You illustrate this by placing a sixpence halfway between the elbow and the wrist. By now suddenly bringing the hand down, the sixpence will fall securely into the cuff unseen by any, and seeming apparently to your own astonishment, to have altogether disappeared. Now take a drinking glass or tumbler, and bidding the spectators watch the ceiling, you tell them the lost coin shall drop through the ceiling. By placing the glass at the side of your arm and elevating the hand for the purpose, the coin will fall from the cuff jingling into the tumbler, and cause great marvel as to how it came there. DANCING HALFPENCE -Halfpence may be made to dance by affixing, with wax, black silk to the surface of the coins, and letting the threads terminate in a loop, which may be placed over the right foot of the exhibitor, who stands at some little distance from the dancing coins, which are better deposited in a glass sugar-basin or large tumbler. In this way questions may be answered by halfpence, each movement of the foot causing a corresponding jingle in the glass-one vibration representing "no," and two "yes." A little practice and ingenuity will furnish a number of amusing illusions which can be performed alike before the same spectators, but varied and adapted as by these means. Indeed no trick should be performed twice occasion requires. SONGS OF THE STARS. MIDNIGHT. I. MIDNIGHT-and stealing forth from human slumbers, We wake at morn, and call these meetings-dreams. II. Midnight!-and lovers sundered wide and far, Will watch for thy long coming o'er the billow, And gaze together on that one bright star, That sheds a love-like radiance o'er their pillow; And spirits wandering in such sweet communion, Their inmost souls thus mutually transfuse, Seeking at midnight's hallowed hour that union The churlish world in daylight doth refuse. Thrice happy ye-the true Romancist deems, Who thrill at midnight with these phantom dreams! B. PERHAPS you know the road between Crewkerne and Taunton. Wel!, no matter if you don't. There is a certain portion of it which is very thickly wooded; shrouded by trees on either side, with their thick foliage forming a canopy of sombre leafiness that renders the path especially gloomy after sunset. It was along this road that I found myself pedestrianising on my destination to Exeter, one evening in the month of last September. It had been a glorious autumnal day, and I had lingered on my way to gaze on a gorgeous sunset, so that, by the time I had reached this leafy defile, nature was veiled in a dim, mysterious twilight. Not a sound was to be heard save the tinkling of a distant sheep bell, or the twitter of some loving bird bidding its mate good night. All around seemed melancholy, soft, and dreamy, and I was sauntering slowly along, indulging in all manner of wild imaginings, when I was startled by the apparent sound of footsteps behind me. I turned sharply round, but to my great surprise, saw nothing, and there I stood for a minute or more, straining my eyes in the distance behind me, thinking certainly that some one must be approaching, and that I had conceived the tread of feet to be a great deal nearer than it really was. I listened-no; there was nothing of the kind now to be heard, and no human form to be seen. I turned round again, and continued walking onward; when accidentally happening to look rather earnestly forward to see where the road was leading me, I beheld the figure of a man at about twenty yards distance, walking onward-apparently a stout made, muscular fellow, attired in some kind of apparel that bore the outline and aspect of a dark shooting dress. Ah! thought I, that accounts for the sound of footsteps, but it is strange I should have fancied they were behind me, and so close too!-I kept my eyes fixed on the stranger-a companion will shorten the road, thought I-I'll push on and overtake him. I mended my pace, but did not appear to gain upon him-I walked even faster, but it was useless; there he was, still keeping at the same distance. Well, thought I, it is strange! the man must be going at more than four miles an hour, and yet he does not appear to be walking so fast as I am. On I went, perseveringly, but with no better success; and feeling somewhat annoyed at being foiled in this strange way, I shouted to make him stop, but found it was impossible to get up to him-there he was, still at the same distance. I gazed at him in amazement, and as I gazed, it suddenly struck me that his footsteps were perfectly noiseless. I stood still, in alarm-I confess it-the figure still appeared to be walking, but the distance between us did not diminish! I was amazed-what should I do? To turn back would be folly, for the last village I had left, where there was the least chance of getting a bed for the night, was upwards of three miles distant. I must then walk on and follow this phantom traveller; and so I did, sometimes slowly, and then quickly, but still, there he was, always at the same distance from me. Onward we went, this phantom traveller and I, still keeping the same equal distance from each other. I should have been most heartily glad to have found some branch road that would have led me by a circuit towards my place of destination, but there was nothing of the kind to be seen, not even a bye lane. Eagerly did I stretch my neck and strain my eyes to get a glimpse, if possible, of some distant cottage. No, there was not the least semblance of any kind of habitation visible. Onward we walked a mile or more.-Ah! there are houses in the distance, like a straggling village, off to the right yonder. I looked along the road to see where it wound; could it be possible ?- "No, sir, I never seed 'un," replied Mary, staring at me; "there be no one about at all." Of course I said something as to a mistake, and "my fancy;" but I did not feel satisfied, for the girl, as I thought, seemed a little startled by my remark. But pshaw! that might be my fancy. Well, "here's a pleasant road to all travellers"-brandy and water capital!-that suits my fancy. How gloriously that wood blazes!-there's a good girl; arm chair, eh?-pair of slippers too!-you're a very pretty girl, Mary; take my boots - there-now, light both those canales, and go and see about the tea. And away went the maiden to fulfil my behest, quickly returning with the tea things -a most remarkable looking Devonian tea kettle and some splendid homemade brown bread, like cake; the most delicate butter that ever was made, and a pot of all-glorious, and never-to-be-sufficientlycommended clouted cream! By George! capital country this to live in, however-pleasant bed now, we dare say, snug and comfortable-glorious ramble over the hills in the morning. Ah! I shall enjoy myself here immensely, I can see that. "And did you have no interview, sir, again with the Phantom?' You shall hear. (To be concluded in our next.) THE PROGRESS OF THE STARRY SCIENCE.--The symbols of this celestial scenography were set up as tangible representatives of benefic or malefte powers that shed corresponding rays, causing smiling harvests or dreary famine; illuminating the paths of the favoured to honour and fortune, or rendering still darker and more perilous the wayfarings of adversity. Thus grew up a system, splendid in the first degree, referring perpetually to the bright and ever progressing heralds of its decrees; but the science that enabled man to deduce presages of the future by unerring rules, and independently of other than influences which affect him in common with all the constituents of creation, became vitiated by pretended communings with imaginary beings, and propitiatory sacrifices to the deities of an absurd polytheism; yet so fascinating was this admixture of truth and fiction, that it still retained freshness when upon it had descended the hoar of ages. Ir is a strikingly convincing proof of the truth of Astrology, that, even the most eminent for their learning and freedom from superstitious trammels have not only advocated and studied the wondrous science, but that they have, in many of the most elaborate works which have been handed down to us, exhorted others to do likewise. The celebrated Dr. Fludd was a strenuous supporter of the Rosicrucian philosophy; Melancthon, the good and pious Reformer, was a firm believer in Judicial Astrology; Cardinals Richelieu and Mazarine continually had their nativities cast by the astrologers of their age; and the mass of evidence to be found in the opinions of the ancients, and supported by the practice of the moderns, would strengthen any pursuit that stood less in need of it than the celestial art. When Charles the First was confined, Lilly, the famous astrologer, was consulted for the hour that should favour his escape. Dryden cast the nativities of his sons, and his predictions-particularly the one relating to his son Charles-were singularly verified. Cardan and Burton, author of The Anatomy of Melancholy, both celebrated for their astrological skill, predicted the days of their death, which in each case took place to the very hour they had foretold. The early period in which astrology was practised would seem to throw its origin back to a time almost coeval with the creation of man, for there is no recognised authority that explains with whom or where it originated. The Chaldeans became soon eminent for their skill, and at Babylon it was taught and practised for many centuries before the Christian era. By them it was transmitted to the Greeks, whence it passed to the Romans; and then followed its general dissemination over all Europe. All our greatest astronomers have been astrologers, and it speaks volumes for the broad basis of truth on which the science rests, when we add that there is, we believe, no single instance on record of one who had become thoroughly conversant with its wondrous revelations ever abandoning in distaste so valuable a pursuit. deemed miraculous or supernatural, or perhaps, to speak more properly, whatever cannot be referred to the recognised principles of matter. For instance, the laws of attraction and gravitation are known as general sympathies existing in all planetary bodies with the operations of which we are familiar. But the more particular or occult sympathies are those not common to matter, and even apparently contrary to its general laws; such as the needle's polarity, and the other phenomena which have even baffled the deep investigations of modern science. The luminaries are however, the more immediate cause of sublunary vicissitudes in their mutual configurations with each other, and with the angles, particularly when posited in the midheaven. There is something remarkable in this angle even when no planets are in or near it, for all vegetables will point to it by nature, and will dwindle and waste if any substance intervene between them and the zenith. This is the reason why grass will not grow beneath trees; animals decline from the same cause, and those who are confined long in houses or mines, or who live in woods and caverns, however freely light and air may be admitted, are pale, cadaverous, and unhealthy, so long as a dense mass of matter is interposed between them and the free sky of Heaven. Perhaps the benefits derived from exercise in of the zenith towards which all animated nature has a recognised country walking may be also in part attributed to the influence tendency. The principles of planetary influence are deduced from the same unerring laws as determine the calculations of the astronomer, and may be resolved into these brief propositions. Firstly-That the perfect exercise of our faculties or senses is either dependent upon, or variously affected by, the same causes that produce the phenomena by which all animal life is sustained, all productions of the soil matured, and which moreover, induce modifications of conformation, colour, and temperament, in the human species. Secondly-That the planetary bodies have a conjoint influence and changes, and indirectly in the less understood deficiency or on the atmosphere, directly-as evinced in ordinary fluctuations excess of the electric principle that pervades nature-that subtle is manifested to us in meteoric appearances, the splendid corusagent which, prepared in the mighty laboratory of the heavens, cations of the Aurora Borealis, and the more familiar phenomena of thunder and the explosive flash. Thirdly-That as temperature alone-which is confessedly regulated by the position of the planets-has decided effects upon health, sickness, the passions, and affections, so must the predispositions of individuals, from the same cause, be excited to attempts and accomplishments of good or evil by causes imperceptible to themselves, but which are in strict accordance with the law of recurring influences. Thus it has been conclusively argued, that if temperature and certain atmospherical changes affect the human body, why should We must now proceed to give some idea of the principles on not the affections and dispositions of the mind be influenced in which the art of foretelling future events is mainly dependent. like manner? We well know that climate produces an effect That the stars have an effect upon the earth and its inhabitants upon the character of man; for the vehement passions of those is as self-evident as that they have an existence; the ebbing in the "sunny South," and the colder, phlegmatic policy of the and flowing of the tides prove this, as well as the periodical re- inhabitants in the North, are of every day experience. Such turns of heat and cold, light and darkness. These are the most being admitted then, it is not irrational to believe that liveliness prominent parts of Judicial Astrology, for in these planetary or defect of imagination and passion, and generally the degree influence is universally felt and admitted, and the periods are and bias of intellectual capacity, may be consistently ascribed to accurately known. Changes of the weather, and all the various planetary influences; and that these, though less palpable to the conditions of the atmosphere, proceed from the same causes, grosser senses, excite the accomplishment of preordinations in namely, the various positions and configurations of the stars; the career of individuals. Thus the student in astrology asalthough the manner in which they effect those changes is not sumes precisely the same data as the astronomer; and adopting wholly known. Nothing can be a stronger proof of sideral in- the rules of ancient art as sanctioned by experience, he assigns fluence than the strange succession of fortunate and unfortunate events experienced by many individuals. The whole lives of question its relative influence; and this process unveils the santo every planet, whether in the scheme of a nativity or horary some are a succession of disasters, and all their exertions termi-guine or melancholic temperament of the querent, unfolds his nate in disappointment. Certain times are peculiarly disastrous propensities and pursuits, and foreshadows the untoward or to certain people, a circumstance referable to some similarity in auspicious periods of his existence. As we wish to impress most their horoscopes, and in families numbers frequently die about strongly upon the student the solidity of the basis on which the the same time, which is not unusual among relatives. The me- celestial art rest its claims for attention, we shall probably, dium through which distant portions of matter operate on each in our next, continue these preliminary remarks, and then furother may probably be a very fine fluid-electricity, as it is now nish such information as will enable him to bring these facts to generally believed-emanating from each through infinite space, the test of experience, by erecting a scheme for himself. and wholly imperceptible except by its effects. This may be denominated sympathy, and to it may be traced whatever is PENCILLINGS ON PHYSIOGNOMY. THE art of knowing the humour, temperament, or disposition of a person from observation of the lines of the face and the character of its members or features, is called Physiognomy, and has been treated of in all ages by all authors, from the sophist Adamantius and Aristotle to Lavater. It is founded on the conviction that there is a corresponding tone given to the countenance by the mind; that the features and lineaments of the one are directed by the motions and affections of the other; and that there is a peculiar arrangement in the members of the face, and a peculiar disposition of the countenance to each prominent affection, and perhaps to each prominent idea of the mind. Thanks to bounteous nature, she has not confined us to one only method of conversing with each other and learning each others' thoughts; for the language of the face is as copious, and perhaps as distinct and intelligible as the diction of the tongue. The lips may be closed and the ear deprived of sound, but the countenance and the eye supply this deficiency, and afford us a still further advantage. For the tongue may deceive, but the features will rarely present a false aspect; on comparing the indications of the two, the prevarication of the former may be readily detected. The foundation of physiognomy is in the different objects that present themselves to the senses, and the different ideas that arise on the mind-each make an impression on the spirits adequate or correspondent to the cause. If it be asked how such an impression could be effected, it is easy to answer that it is another demonstration of the beneficent laws of Providence that has fixed such a relation between the several parts of creation that we may, by studying the results; be apprised of the approach or receding of things useful or baneful to us. The Cartesian philosophers in a more metaphysical spirit allege," that the animal spirits being moved in the organ by an object, continue their motion to the brain, from whence that motion is propagated to this or that particular part of the body as is most suitable to the design of nature; having first made a proper alteration in the face by means of its nerves." The face then is to be regarded as a kind of dial-plate, and the wheels and springs inside the machine putting its muscles in motion, show what is next to be expected from the striking part. The great Prince of Condé was very expert in studying the physiognomical characteristics which shewed the peculiar habits and positions of familiar life and mechanical employments. He would sometimes lay wagers with his friends that he would guess upon the Pont Neuf what trade persons were that walked by, and it is proved that he was not more than twice in error out of several hundred experiments. Lavater has brought the science unquestionably to its greatest perfection, and his work upon it should be in the possession of all. The ingenious Mr. Varley has exhibited some singular illustrations of the different characteristic features belonging to those born under the different signs of the zodiac, which most strikingly corroborate the truth of astrological deductions. The contrast between those born under Aries and those under Taurus is so borne out by facts, that the most prejudiced would upon examination become converts to the truth of the theory. FRAGMENTS FOR THE FANCIFUL THE DANGEROUS PERIODS OF LIFE.-There are certain periods of life, when, as is well known to physicians, the tenure of human existence becomes less certain and more frail, and these years are called the climacteric years from a Greek word, signifying a scale or ladder. The first climacteric, according to the best authorities, is the seventh year of a man's life; the rest are multiples of the first by an odd number, as 21, 35, 49, 63, and 77, which two last are called the grand climacterics, and the danger is more certain. The principal authors on the subject of climacterics are Plato, Cicero, Macrobius, Augus Gellius, &c., amongst the ancients; and Argol, Mazirus and Salmatius among the moderns. St. Augustine, St. Ambrose, Beda, and Boetius all countenance the opinion. FLOWERS.-All these elegant and delicate textured beings possess a mysterious life of their own, with feelings akin to ours. How the leaves fade away beneath the burning influence of the sun! How languishes the flower-bell after the refreshing dews of night! How proudly it shows itself to the rising day, adorned with pearls clearer than purest crystal; how elated it is when the wanton bee dares to suck its treasured sweets; how quickly it dies when torn from its native soil! Is there not here a human type? tifications that waylay human arrogance on every side may well THE INFINITY OF INTELLECT.-Among the innumerable morbe reckoned our ignorance of the most common objects and effects-a defect of which we become more sensible by every attempt to supply it. Vulgar and inactive minds confound familiarity with knowledge, and conceive themselves informed of the whole nature of things when they are shown their form, or told their use; but the speculatist, who is not content with superficial views, harasses himself with fruitless curiosity; and still, as he inquires more, perceives only that he knows less. OMENS.-When George III. was crowned, a large emerald fell out of his crown. America was lost in the same reign. When Charles X. was crowned at Rheims, he accidentally dropped his hat, the Duc D'Orleans, now Louis Philippe, picked it up, and presented it to him. On the Saturday preceding the promulgation of the celebrated ordinances by Charles X's ministers, the flag which floated on the columns in the Place Vendome, and which was always hoisted when the Royal Family was in Paris, was described to be torn in three places. The tri-colour waved in its stead the following week, CARDS AND THEIR EMBLEMS.-Every one must at some time or other have experienced the singular effects, either of chance or calculation, which result from the various dispositions of the cards and it may afford some clue to the reason why a pack of cards should be chosen as a medium for divination to explain the principle on which they were originally constructed:-It is generally believed that cards were invented for the amusement of one of the early kings of the line of Bourbon; but this belief is erroneous. Who the man was that invented these instruments of amusement is not known, neither can we tell in what age they were first invented. Our knowledge is limited to the country whence they came-namely, Egypt. The colours are two, red and black, which answer to the two equinoxes. The suits are four, answering to the four seasons. The emblems formerly were, and still are in Spain-for the Heart, a cup, the emblem of winter; the Spade, an acorn, the emblem of autumn; the Club, a trefoil, the emblem of summer; the Diamond, a rose, the emblem of spring. The twelve court cards answer to the twelve months, and were formerly depicted as the signs of the zodiac. The fifty-two cards answer to the number of weeks in a year; the thirteen cards in each suite, to the number of weeks in a lunar quarter. The aggregate of the pips, calculated in the following manner, amount to the number of days in a year :The number in each suit The number of all the suits.... 55 4 220 SLEEP. Sleep is a state in which a great part of every life is past. No animal has yet been discovered whose existence is not varied with intervals of insensibility; and some late philosophers have extended the empire of sleep over the vegetable world. Yet of this change, so frequent, so great, so general, and so necessary, no searcher has yet found either the efficient or final cause, or can tell by what power the mind and body are thus chained down in irresistible stupefaction, or what benefits the animal receives from this alternate suspension of the active powers. SIGNS AND SYMBOLS.-The genius of oriental nations appears, in all former ages, to have been remarkably attached to signs and symbols. |