good priest I recounted the history of my confinement. The result was, that he advised me to publish my prison experiences. The idea startled me at first. Political passions seemed to me yet too ardent in Italy and all over Europe, for such a publication. My intentions will be misinterpreted,' said I;' enemies will deny my statements, though I speak the exact truth; and my repose will be destroyed. There are two kinds of repose,' answered the good father; the repose of the brave man, and that of the pusillanimous. The last is unworthy of you. In this book which I counsel you to write, you will exhibit the noble support derivable in adversity from a holy trust in God, a good conscience, and a right cause. Think of it well. If you have been permitted to earn a little reputation in literature, it is, doubtless, that you may be encouraged to compose a work which will benefit your fellow-men. Avoid the sloth of pusillanimity. The good abbe's language made me reflect on the subject. I spoke of it to my mother, who was not learned, but of sound judgment. I see danger in it,' said she, 'and tremble. But pray, my son -pray that your mind may be directed into the right course. Shortly afterwards, we spoke on the subject again. I believe that the work will have its utility, and that it should be written.' 'To the work, then, my son,' was the reply. I wrote with a pleased activity the first chapters of my Imprisonment, and took an opportunity, one day, of reading them to an old friend, on whose judgment I placed some value. He was alarmed for me, and counselled me to suppress the work for some ten or fifteen years, till all parties were in a state of quietude. So many friends were of the same opinion, that even when the manuscript was completed, I would probably have allowed it to lie by for some years, but for my mother. 'Obey your conscience, my son,' said she; 'act according to your sense of right, and fear nothing.' The work was published, and, during the two following weeks, many regarded me as guilty of an act of crime, or of great folly. Some said that I had published a book disgraceful to our age of enlightenment, and that my reputation was gone; others wrote to me, to say, that every tragedy of mine, which might thenceforth be represented, would be unmercifully hissed by the partisans of philosophy. Many who knew me turned away their heads on meeting me, to avoid speaking. All this was on account of the homage rendered to religion in the work. These clamours, however, soon fell to the ground, and a great number of my adversaries, seeing my book generally well received, confined themselves to the task of warring on me in secret, and endeavouring to undermine me in the estimation of men who honoured me with their friendship. But the work was reprinted abroad. Men pardoned the extreme simplicity of the style, on account of the incontestible character of veracity stamped upon every page. I received many flattering letters on account of it from compatriots and strangers. 6 My good abbé rejoiced as much as I in the success of the work which he had suggested. You ought,' said he, moreover, to profit by the favour you have gained with the public, to give them a little treatise on morals. Write a discourse to youth. Animate them to noble sentiments; I promise you that it will be read.' Again I referred the suggestion to my mother, and saw that she approved of it. Her only caution was, 'This book should breathe nothing but benevolence; avoid the tone of satire which moralists are too apt to catch.' My Discourse upon the Duties of Man' originated in this manner, and had the same success with my narrative. Some journals abused it, but as usual, I kept a profound silence. Was this patience? No, I cannot say it was; but all explanation or remonstrance would have been fruitless with men determined to make me out a wicked man. After having composed twelve tragedies, of which I have only published eight, I have ceased to write for the stage, not feeling myself possessed of a rich enough mental fund for the delineation of character. In my youth, I had fondly hoped to place my name beside that of Alfieri; but I have awakened from that illusion, in spite of the applause I have gained. I occupy myself still with writing verses, but chiefly odes or elegies, to express my devotional feelings. I have also laboured for some time upon two historical tales, but have, in both cases, felt my ardour cooled, on beholding the infinite distance at which I was left by pre-existing works of this nature. In short, I write much, but it is more for my own satisfaction, than in the confidence of producing any thing of value. At last I take up my pen, and, not knowing what to do with it, begin to a History of my own Life." MISCONCEPTION ON RAILWAYS. It is a singular fact in the early history of locomotive carriages, that their projectors assumed the existence of a difficulty which is now known to be wholly imaginary; and resorted to sundry laborious contrivances for overcoming an obstacle that had no existence, and which Nature herself, had she been asked, would have accomplished for them. They assumed that the adhesion of the smooth wheels of the carriage upon the equally smooth iron rail must necessarily be so slight, that, if it should be attempted to drag any considerable weight, the wheels might indeed be driven round, but that the carriage would fail to advance because of the continued slipping of the wheels. The remedies devised for this fancied counteraction were various. One was conceived so valuable, that a patent was taken out for it in 1811 by Mr Blenkinsop. It consisted, as the writer well remembers, of a rack placed on the outer side of the rail, into which a toothed wheel worked, and thus secured the progressive motion of the carriage. It was, however, wholly useless-it was an impediment: the simple adhesion of the wheels with the surface of the rails upon which they are moved being by an immutable law amply sufficient to secure the advance, not only of a heavy carriage, but of an enormous load dragged after it.-Wade's British History. THE BATTLE OF MORGARTEN. "In the year 1315, a rural tribe, of certain valleys begirt with high mountains, called Schwitz, revolted from its allegiance, and withheld the tribute and service due to Duke Leopold of Austria, who, being much angered, collected an army of 20,000 men. *** And on the day of St Othmar, Duke Leopold, endeavouring to pass into their country, was much hindered by the height and steepness of the mountain. For the knights on horseback, boiling with desire of action, and crowding into the first ranks, entirely prevented the infantry from ascending. But the Schwitzers, perceiving how much their enemy would be hampered by the difficulty of the way, went down against them from their lurking-places, and, attacking them like fish in a net, slew them without resistance."-Vitodurani Chronicon. THE EVENING BEFORE THE BATTLE. THE BATTLE. The dawning sunlight beams On the mountain's hoary brow, Fiercely the Austrian foo But mark, upon the steep Of Morgarten's loftiest height, A dusky spot is seen to sweep (Like darksome dreams o'er the soul of sleep) On its snowy breast of white. It stays its meteor course O'er the Austrian tyrant's path; And a distant murmur, deep and hoarse, Deep in Morgarten's snow 'Twas then that from the height On through the van they dash- For far upon the plain A dust-cloud marks the way Of the coward hearts, whose blood should stain Of that disastrous day. Yet the shout of victory For the patriot hearts which that morn beat high, Chill'd in the strife of that dreadful day, THE NIGHT AFTER THE BATTLE. Nought is heard save the death-song, sad replying ODDS AND ENDS. COLLECTED FROM VARIOUS SOURCES. CHANCE DEFINITIONS. Love Looks-The first billet-doux of love. HappinessA fugitive and chimerical being, which every body runs after, but no one catches. Sensibility-A gift of heaven, to multiply the pleasures and pains of life. WisdomA shield that preserves its possessor from the perils with which his desires surround him. Society-A state of constant slavery, in which no one lives for himself or to himself. Absence-The sister of death. An egotism, divided by two. Military Glory-Smoke on ruins. Indifference-Absence of all sentiment, or the feeling of the worthless. Music-An universal language, which harmoniously relates the reminiscences of the heart. Honour-The soul's patrimony. Beauty -A flower without smell when no quality of the heart accompanies it. HUMAN WEAKNESS. All men fear, dislike, and grieve; all men desire, hope, and rejoice; though, of course, different men feel those passions unequally. All men, however, are not susceptible of love, of hatred, of envy, or of despair. The strongest men, too, have their various weaknesses. Johnson united moral credulity to mental vigour, and he dishonoured his strength by arguing for victory rather than for truth. READING IN CHILDHOOD. Reading without intelligence injures the brain and stomach mechanically; reading with intelligence injures both in the less direct manner of nervous excitement; but either way, much reading and robust health are incompatible. Only let a child eager for knowledge be read to instead of allowing him to read himself, and the whole of the mechanical mischief is avoided; and again, let him be freely conversed with in a desultory manner, in the midst of active engagements and out of doors; and then, while an equal amount of information is conveyed, and in a form more readily assimilated by the mind, nearly all the mischiefs of excitement, as springing from study, are also avoided. In a word, let books in the hands, except as playthings, be as much as possible held back during the early period of education.— Home Education. PEACE. Peace is the natural effect of trade. Two nations who traffic with each other become reciprocally dependent; for if one has an interest in buying, the other has an interest in selling; and thus their union is founded on their mutual necessities.-Montesquieu. WILL YOU TAKE A PINCH? "Will you take a pinch?" said an acquaintance, offering his snuff-box to a fishmonger. "No, I thank you," replied the latter, "I have just had one from a lobster." BREVITY AND WIT. It is said that short dumpy people are more humorous than long lank folks, on the ground that brevity is the soul of wit. AN ILLUSTRATION BY WAY OF DEFINITION. "Pray, what is nonsense?" asked a wight, who talked little else. "Nonsense?" replied his friend; "why, sir, it's nonsense to bolt a door with a boiled carrot!" CLEVER SCHOLARS. "The boy at the head of the class will state what were the dark ages of the world." Boy hesitates. "Next -Master Smith, can't you tell what the dark ages were?" "I guess they were the ages just before the invention of spectacles." "Go to your seats." THE POOR MAN. When a poor man attempts to rise-attempts to show that there is no monopoly of genius, and that God hath given as free and noble a soul to the lowly as to the great he is not only opposed by the class above him, but envy and scorn are but too often his portion among his fellows. They do not like to see themselves outstripped by one whom they have reckoned no better than themselves, and instead of encouraging, they damp his ardour, and grieve his heart with sneers, and cold, because envious, counsel. The next class above him love not to see a man who has nought to boast of but a noble soul, no treasures save those of mind, presuming to take his place among them, and there is one universal shout of "keep him down!" This upward struggle which the poverty-struck genius has to endure the struggle against prejudice, and misrepresentation, and want, has daunted many a mind, and discouraged many a breast, and has kept many a man formed to be a light to the world in poverty and darkness to the end of his days. Because of this, many a noble spirit has concealed its own flame of brightness; many noble and free men, of whom the world was not worthy, have gone down into the grave, with all the wisdom of their souls untold -"have died, and made no sign." LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W.S. ORR, Paternoster Row; and sold by all booksellers and newsmen.-Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars. Complete sets of the Journal are always to be had from the publishers or their agents; also, any odd numbers to complete sets. Persons requiring their volumes bound along with titlepages and contents, have only to give them into the hands of any bookseller, with orders to that effect. DINBURGE CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF "CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," 'CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c. 66 NUMBER 454. THE POCO. ALL who have read Voltaire's "Candide" must have a lively recollection of a certain Monsieur Pococurante, who turns away with contempt and disgust from every thing that is presented or proposed to him; whereupon the hero of the story makes the remark, "What a great man that Monsieur Pococurante must be nothing pleases him!" The French philosopher here touches the root of a very remarkable feature of human character. The number of those who, from an irregular self-esteem, are malcontent with almost every thing, is very great. We propose that they should be called pococurantes, or, for shortness, pocos, though, we believe, the word has a more extensive meaning amongst the people to whose language it belongs.* The Poco is remarkable for his comments on new public buildings. He has but one principle-never to admire. Is the building a Gothic church, then it resembles a big German toy. Is it a pillar, then it is like a great candlestick or churn. Is it a Grecian church with a dome in the St Paul's style, then it is like a vast pepper-caster. There is not any one building, however large in its scale or elegant in its parts, but he has some diminutive and ridiculous object of a familiar domestic kind, whereunto to liken it, so as to make it appear mean. He is also great in showing the inappropriateness of buildings to their objects and sites, as, for instance, "How absurd to have built that Corinthian monument to Burns-the most Doric of all poets !" or, "How ridiculous to set up an obelisk in that dense part of the town, where, to a stranger approaching, it will look like a factory chimney!" One thing may be observed; he is not very consistent. If it is intended to place a building low, he predicts its effect will be lost: if, next year, another is commenced on a hill, then its effect will be to spoil the hill. On a moment's reflection, we must withdraw the last charge against him, for in both of these remarks he is quite consistent with himself-in his character as a Poco. On the occurrence of any city spectacle or exhibition, which all the people go to, expecting to have some pleasure in it, our Poco's bile is sure to be stirred. It is curious, too-he always goes like the rest. But, to appearance, it is only to find fault. Let us suppose it is a procession-say the queen going in state to open parliament. In such a case, he by no means likes the colour of the horses in the royal carriage: George IV.'s horses were a great deal better. Then the sovereign of England was considered entitled to have a stud. As for the procession, he has seen a far better in Blue Beard or Aladdin. A boy rogue splashes his gaiters, and he exclaims there is no police, though they actually form a large and conspicuous portion of the crowd. You drop with him into the National Gallery; but he has long done with pictures. There is no genuine art now-a-days. All flash, and flare, and daub. In the evening, you conduct him to the opera. It is one of the best nights of the season, and a crowded house. But never was heard such singing, or seen such dancing. Besides, there is something confoundedly shabby in that plan of giving backs to only one-half of the seats. And then the whole affair is a humbug—a parcel of rascally foreigners come to pick our pockets. It is the same with natural objects of the kind which most are glad to go a good way to see. He makes a tour of the Scottish Highlands, but finds Pococurante (Italian), literally a little carer, signifies one who is very careless in his general demeanour, as well as one who cares little for his fellow-creatures, and for what others are accustomed to respect. SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10, 1840. everything greatly overpraised. Loch Lomond is nothing to the Lake of Geneva. The vale of Glencroe, so rugged and sublime, appears to him dull and sombre. He would have liked to see the mountain sides enlivened, as in Switzerland, with cottages and patches of cultivated ground-provoking you to add in despair, "and lighted with gas;" but the Poco does not understand a joke, so this passes for unsaid. His main trick is to depreciate by comparison. You hint a little approbation of Ben Lomond, which you insinuate is nearly four thousand feet high. "Oh, my dear sir, what is Ben Lomond, or any other of your Scotch hills, to Mont Blanc? Think of fifteen thousand feet of height, and a top of perpetual snow!" When you speak in like manner of the Clyde-"Oh, my dear sir, what are any of your Scotch rivers to the Thames or Severn?" Were our Poco a Swiss, and treated with some praise of Mont Blanc, it is ten to one he would cite the Himaleh range. Were the Thames or the Severn spoken of praisingly in his presence, he would, in like manner, fly to the Danube. Were he German, again, and heard the Danube approved of, he would not be content till he had told you what a trifle it is to the Amazon. And so on. What he would do were he asked to admire the Himaleh range or the Amazon, or any other greatest known thing of its kind, the powers above can only know; we do not. We fear such a case would distress the Poco a good deal. The Poco's taste in literature is very sublime. He condemns the whole taste of the age, leaving it of course to be surmised that he could himself produce, or at least can imagine, far better novels, plays, poems, philosophical writings, and so forth, than any at present in vogue. Periodical literature being fashionable, he finds that men fritter away their genius in small efforts; though, of course, were it otherwise, he would ridicule their large and solid works, and point out that a light essay, or even a song or a ballad, had often done more to enlighten and reform than folios of twenty years' elaboration. The productions of the day being most run upon, he furiously bewails that the excellent writers of the last century, the Popes, Swifts, Johnsons, &c., are now neglected; though here, also, were the case the reverse, he would be sure to rail at the miserable unattractiveness of all existing authors. The clever novelist being now the crack man, he asks, "But where are your philosophical writers? Scott and Bulwer are very good as storytellers; but we have now no Adam Smiths." Of course, were it otherwise, he would be all grumble for the want of graceful fiction. When Boz was comparatively obscure, our Poco was delighted with him. "There," he cried, "there is an original writer at last!" But since everybody began to admire Boz, his tone is quite changed. He speaks of "that practice of selecting characters from the lowest scenes of life, and the effect which it must have in taking down the public taste;" and shows that, after all, he is a writer who sees only the minutiae of external appearance, all the fine workings within escaping him. Of course, if we could suppose Mr Dickens to have written his many clever books without public approbation, our Poco would have been quite indignant at the age for allowing se bright a genius to languish in obscurity. His favourite authors, it may be readily supposed, are not the same with other men's favourite authors. Those whom he patronises are chiefly persecuted out-of-the-way writers-persons who were perhaps killed twenty or thirty years ago by single articles in quarterly reviews, and have never been heard of by the bulk of the world since; or individuals who have never had any but a local fame. Were PRICE THREE HALFPENCE. any of these people to get the least into vogue, they would of course be instantly given up by our Poco. The Poco is as peculiar in his line of politics as in anything else. No contingency or crisis of public affairs ever strikes him in the same way it does other people. He is of no party, for that would be acknowledging somebody else to be as right as himself. Malcontent as he is generally, he will not even join his fellow-creatures in a discontent; no, when there is a general discontent, our Poco is then malcontent with the discontented. When a large section of the community concentrates its attention upon some grievance, which it endeavours to have redressed, our Poco is sure to discover that the real thing which galls them is something quite different-probably something of so trivial a nature that no one besides himself ever thought of it; like the old soldier in Scott's tale discovering the cause of Claverhouse's defeat at Drumclog, in "that newfangled way of slinging their carabines." Ministries of all kinds are alike to our hero. They are always mere nincompoops. When a warlike policy is pursued, he apprehends the nation must soon sink under the necessary additional taxes; when the cabinet, like Lucius, have to confess that their thoughts are turned on peace, then the nation is nowa-days allowed to be kicked about by every third-rate power-very different from the times of yore, when the British lion never allowed a single hair of his tail to be plucked with impunity. He is always found engrossed by considerations of departments of state policy, which everybody else at the time supposes to be in good enough order; for instance, while all mankind are absorbed in the question, we shall say, of free trade, our Poco is altogether occupied in considering the finances. "If the finances are kept right, sir, all will be right. Britain stands or falls by the finances. No ministry ever yet throve which meddled with the finances. That was Necker's great fault in the French Revolution." In short, he is for the finances, and nothing but the finances; you could not pass him in conversation with a gentleman on the street, but, in the moment of transit, you would hear of the finances. There is a possible exception to the rule that the Poco is of no party. Whenever any faction gets worn down to something very small, so as to cease to be of the least account with the nation at large, then our Poco perhaps allows himself to join with it. But he is a bad partisan, being as likely to throw blame upon his own people as upon any other. At all their de feats, however clearly these may be owing simply to the overwhelming force of the opposing majority, he is sure to turn round upon them, and find the source of their discomfiture in some little peculiarity or point in their conduct, which has no more to do with it than the last change of the moon. He so dearly loves to give blame and find fault, that nothing, however intimately associated with him, can be free from the exercise of his ingenuity in that way. Were the very wife of his bosom to fall and break her leg, he would find it to be her own blame, from wearing that large bonnet. An affair like the meeting of the British Association gives great scope for his peculiar passion. It is well known that the meetings of this body have at every place occasioned a general feeling of satisfaction both to the savans and the people whom they visited. These assemblages have been in fact signalised by an overflow of kind and agreeable feeling wherever they have yet taken place. This is enough to make them objects of particular disgust to our Poco. Would he be pleased with what pleases so many? No: that would be to reduce him to the common herd at once. He therefore takes every opportunity of railing at | these meetings as nere vanity fairs. No science worthy of the name is brought into notice by them. Solemn grimace in the forenoon, and eating and drinking in the evening—that is the whole order of the day. How finely the natives are done by these quacks -for, long since, of course, all the real men of science withdrew from the affair in disgust. And a great deal more to the like purpose, all intended to show that people, instead of allowing themselves to be happy at these meetings, ought to stand sulkily aloof, as he does though, were the example to be followed, and the British Association really to fall off in public esteem, he would for certain be the very man to stand up and rail at the world for its coldness towards the cause of science, and the little regard it pays, and has over paid, to the men whose patient inquiries and ex-fore suggest, that, in all cases where a regard to good-watching the effects they produced. Her experience periments form the chief foundation of the nation's glory and happiness. be put down by arguments like the above. No; ridi- MADAME DE BRINVILLIERS. STORY FROM THE CAUSES CELEBRES. off M. d'Aubray and his whole family, the father, so much among these fatal drugs, the marchioness, by It is important to observe, that much of what the Poco says is only a profession of the moment, not the expression of a deeply-grounded feeling or opinion. For any man to be really affected by all the disgusts he seems to feel, would be a sad fate indeed, for then literally nothing would please him, and his ordinary sensations would be of the most painful kind. To do the Poco justice, he is a great pretender. In his privacy, he reads the proceedings of the British Association with much the same feelings as other people. All the time he is exclaiming that the country is ruined through the incapacity of its statesmen, he is buying largely in the three per cents. He may appear to have only two or three favourite authors, and those MADEMOISELLE D'AUBRAY, daughter of a respectable and wealthy gentleman, who held the rank of civil- Having satisfied herself, in this fearful manner, of of the obscurest class, but in reality he has a well-filled lieutenant in France, was married, in the year 1651, the kind and quantity of poison suited for her purpose, library, and indulges in a wide range of miscellaneous to the Marquis de Brinvilliers, a man of rank and Madame de Brinvilliers committed the first of her reading. As to the scenery of his native country, we fortune. She brought to him a dowry of two hundred previously purposed crimes. Her father went to his may leave our readers to judge if he can really be thousand livres, and he enjoyed an annual income of country-seat at Ossement, attended at his request by thirty thousand livres. The pair were thus amply pro- this unprincipled daughter. She put poison into a broth thought to undervalue it, when he never allows an vided with the means of enjoying, not only the neces- intended for him, and he took it. Violent vomitings autumn to pass without making a tour of the Cum-saries and comforts, but also the luxuries of life; and and the severest pains were the consequence, and the berland or Scotch lakes, or of Wales, or some other every thing seemed to promise to them a long career marchioness looked on calmly, or at least with such a romantic district-ay, and takes his wife and daugh- of wedded happiness. The marchioness was remark- demeanour as prevented any shade of suspicion from ters along with him. We would advise you, also, not able for the sprightliness of her mind and the graces lighting on her. Her father lived long enough to be of her person. Her figure was slight, but well formed, carried to Paris for advice, but died shortly after arrivto be too easily led away by what he says of the opera, and her features regular and beautiful; while the mild-ing there, the daughter having several times repeated or of the street sights, for he goes to the one at least ness of her manners, and the tranquillity that sat on her the dose. The two sons were next attacked, as standonce a-week, and never misses a spectacle which other brow, gave indications of a spirit unruffled by any of ing between the marchioness and the inheritance of the people think worth seeing. Such being his habits the stormier passions of humanity. But, as the beauti- family. The mind which had calmly compassed the on these points, we may well conclude that most of ful description of the castle of Glamis, in Macbeth, with crime of parricide, had no scruple in meditating fratrithe new public buildings give our Poco as much satis- the allusion to the quiet sweetness of the air, and the cide. One of the brothers had succeeded his father as peaceful labours of the "temple-haunting martlet" lieutenant-civil, and the other was a counsellor of parfaction as they give to other citizens, though, as already under the eaves, gives a more startling effect to the liament. Madame de Brinvilliers was upon friendly mentioned, he never allows himself to say one word in bloody horrors acted immediately thereafter within the terms with both of them, and she took advantage of this their praise. Here, indeed, is the hinge of the Poco's walls, so did the opening promise of this woman's life to introduce into the service of the counsellor, who lived character. To praise is what he dreads, for that, he contrast, in a fearfully vivid manner, with the after with his brother, a lacquey named La Chaussée, once thinks, takes him down. Barring that, as our Irish scenes in which she bore a part, and, indeed, in which a servant of Saint-Croix, and a fit agent for the comshe was the principal actor. pletion of the murderous design. The fact, however, friends say, he is much like other people in all sorts of of his having served Saint-Croix was concealed. La respects. Chaussée, for a high bribe, undertook to poison the introduced poison into some wine and water to be taken brothers, and, soon after entering their household, he by the eldest. But as soon as the latter had put it to his lips, he detected something unusual in the taste, and exclaimed, “Rascal, what have you given me! Would you have me poisoned?" This was said, however, without any idea that poison was really in the glass, and merely referred to want of cleanliness and care on the part of the servant. La Chaussée excused himself, by saying that some dregs of medicine had accidentally been in the glass, and had given it the taste complained of. The pride which forbids praise where it is due, is, however, a good deal to except. To speak seriously of it, it forms, we humbly think, by no means an amiable or estimable feature in a human being. To admire what is worthy of admiration, to express satis faction where the best efforts have been made to The Marquis de Brinvilliers was a colonel of cavalry in the regiment of Normandy, and had seen actual service in the wars. acquainted with a captain of horse named Saint-Croix, While so engaged, he had become or rather one who had assumed that name, being an illegitimate member of a noble French family. The marquis, subsequently to his marriage, met Saint-Croix, and renewed acquaintanceship with him. The captain was soon received as a domesticated visitant in the house of the marquis and marchioness, and hence flows secure it, is nothing more than justice, and it is what the unhappy tale that is to be told. M. de Brinvilliers one man owes to another, the same as mutual forwas a dissipated man, and much abroad, by which means bearance from injury. In failing on these points, a his wife was left in the dangerous society of Saint-Croix, great law is violated, and society must to some cerand formed a strong and criminal attachment to him. He was one but too ready to encourage and profit by tain, though perhaps an inappreciable extent, be the such an aberration from rectitude, and, urged by him, worse for it. If the duty be done within moderation, the marchioness took advantage of her husband's conand with a simple regard to justice, no one can be duct to sue for a separate maintenance, which she obpresumed to be degraded by it. Indeed, no one who tained. After this period, the connexion between her was not under the influence of an excessive or morbid and Saint-Croix grew closer, so much so as to attract self-esteem, could presume himself to be in the least general notice. Her father M. d'Aubray, became aware of the circumstances, and perceiving the marquis to danger on this score. It is also worthy of observation, be seemingly indifferent on the subject, thought that that Pocoism cannot be favourable to truth. We are he would best consult his daughter's good by getting so constituted, that it is not possible to affect perma- Saint-Croix imprisoned. A lettre-de-cachet, or order nently and habitually any feeling or mode of thinking, for arrest, was a thing too easily procured in those days without becoming in some degree actually influenced the young captain of horse was taken from the carriage in France, by any one who had interest at court; and by it. In as far, then, as any one affects to see things of the marchioness and thrown into the Bastille. in a very peculiar light, or to esteem them differently This step had a most unfortunate and unforeseen from others, he is very apt to be really guilty, in some issue. While in confinement, Saint-Croix became acmeasure, of misjudging them. The very necessity of quainted with an Italian named Exili, a man who folappearing consistent will force him often to act to-sively studied in that age, and turned largely to profit lowed the mystery of compounding poisons, one extenwards such things in the way he speaks of them, and and account. Exili initiated his fellow-captive into the thus serious error may be induced. Besides, the mere secrets of the art, and, when both of them were libespeaking of things in a particular false way, is likely rated, at the end of a year, the diabolical instructions to mislead many who, not having the power of judging adept as his teacher. On his release, Saint-Croix had were continued, until the pupil became as great an for themselves, are ready to view every thing as they not failed to renew his intercourse with the marchiofind others viewing it: to such persons the affected ness, but with so much circumspection, that even the disdain of the Poco must appear as sound as the sober father was deceived, and kept up a friendly footing with judgment of the impartial man, and his folly will lead his daughter. When they met in private, Saint-Croix to error accordingly. communicated to the marchioness the secrets taught him by Exili, and his lessons were not thrown away. Animated by cupidity and a desire of vengeance, this wretched and guilty pair concerted a scheme of cutting While, in every point of view, we think Pocoism is to be condemned, we are well aware that it is not to less anticipating it from a sister's hands, the lieutenant Still unsuspicious of any evil intended to them, far and counsellor kept La Chaussée in their service; and he was not long in making a new attempt, being urged to it by his impatient and unscrupulous employers. In April 1670, the brothers went to the country, and, while there, partook with some other gentlemen of a and the brothers, with one of their companions, ate set banquet. A sweetbread pie was among the dishes, freely of it. The three were immediately seized with vomiting, and suffered most severe pain, while those who had not ate of the dish felt no disorder. The unstruggled long against the injury inflicted on it, but the happy brothers were of strong constitutions, and nature issue of that poisoning was fatal to both. The lieutenant languished in torment up to the 17th of June, and then died. The counsellor survived the poisoning three months, and followed his brother to the tomb. and, in both cases, a portion of the stomach and intesAn examination was made, respectively, of the bodies, tines was found in an ulcerated and blackened state. The physicians did not hesitate to declare that the brothers had been poisoned, but suspicion never pointed to the true source, and indeed some unhappy accident La Chaussée played his part, that the counsellor, totally was generally looked upon as the cause. So well had unsuspicious of the man to the last, had left him a small legacy. Three victims were thus removed. There were yet two other persons, however, who stood between the wretched authors of these crimes and the attainment of their full desires, namely, Mademoiselle d'Aubray and the Marquis de Brinvilliers. On the life of the latter, the marchioness, eager to remove all obstacles from the way of her union with her paramour, contrived to make several attempts; but, if we may be lieve Madame de Sevigné, who was a contemporary, and living on the spot at the moment, Saint-Croix himself took steps to prevent the marchioness from succeeding in this portion of her designs, being averse to a formal union with a person so dangerous as his associate in guilt. But the Marquis de Brinvilliers tasted enough of the fatal drugs to injure his health deeply. As for Mademoiselle d'Aubray, whether put on her guard by the acknowledged end of her brothers, or from natural cautiousness, she did not fall beneath the deadly attempts of her younger sister, though these were often repeated. public penance; after which she was put into a cart, Such was the end of this marvel of crime, who was but twenty-five years of age when she was stopped in her career. It would be charitable to suppose a tinge of insanity to have been at the foundation of her monstrous conduct; but truth compels us to say that no good grounds appear for sustaining that lenient view. The erroneous and most reprehensible practice which priests pursue, of exaggerating the natural remorse of the vilest criminals into a holy and saving penitence, had the effect, in the case of Brinvilliers, of actually making numbers of people regard her as little else than a saint at her dying hour, though the most worthless wretch who ever figured in a court of justice.. SLAVERY. JAMAICA THE CONSEQUENCES OF EMANCIPATION. THE immediate effects of the emancipation of the negroes in Jamaica, as already mentioned, were of so peaceful a nature as to hold out the best hopes of future prosperity to the island. The only cause of complaint was the perverse conduct of the managers of estates, in endeavouring to maintain a thraldom over their servants by exacting enormous rents for their houses and provision-grounds. The disquietude arising from this unfortunate policy lasted for six months at least after the day of liberation, and reacted most severely on the proprietors of the sugar plantations, for, while the quarrel existed, comparatively little was done to prepare the ground for the next crop of canes, and the produce, therefore, in 1839 was about a tenth less than formerly. This circumstance partly accounts for the present dearth of sugar.. has been a great relief to the owners of unproductive properties. They were bound to give the prescribed allowances to their slaves, without reference to their own profits. To illustrate this position, I can point out a property on which were settled 100 slaves. The lowest estimate of expenditure on their account is. L.500 a-year, and the possession, notwithstanding the high price of produce, has of late years regularly increased the owner's debt. Since 1st August to 31st December, the labour account has amounted to L.99, 4s. 2d. The usual cultivation has been carried on and improved; the pastures, hitherto neglected, are cleaned; and about thirty acres of coffee, which had grown up to the state best described by ruinate,' have been opened. The produce, small as it is, now secured, will pay all the expenses of the plantation, and, even in this first year of experiment, place the proprietor on a better footing than under a continuance of the previous system he ever could have hoped for." In the report of Messrs Lyon, Dillon, and Kelly, March 1839, a similar evidence is afforded :-" With regard to the assertion that the sum paid for labour is so high as to render it impossible that the returns to say that experience has proved that the expenditure varies from L.3, 10s. to L.5 per hogshead. The planter, therefore, has it in his power to compute his expenditure against his profits; and, with sugar selling in the colony at 40s. to 54s. per hundred-weight, and rum from 68. 8d. to 88. 4d. per gallon, it may, without difficulty, be shown that the result must be extremely favourable to him." It is difficult to say how many crimes these wretches would yet have committed, had not a strange and strik ing circumstance suddenly arrested them in the mid career of their guilt. Saint-Croix, not yet contented with his proficiency in the art of poisoning, was in the habit of exercising his genius in the art of compounding new drugs of the same kind, and arrived at a degree of skill therein which proved fatal to himself... One day, while engaged in mixing some of his preparations, and standing over the fumes with a mask of glass upon his face, THE WEST INDIES SINCE THE ABOLITION OF of sugar-planting can sustain it, it is only necessary the protecting vizor fell off, and the vapours killed him on the spot. His death being discovered by his servants, a magistrate was called in, and the effects taken in charge, the deceased being understood to be without friends. A casket was seen, which contained an open paper, and some sealed packets. The paper, which had plainly been drawn up with a view to the possibility of such an accident, contained the most solemn injunctions to those who should find it, to carry the casket to the Marchioness de Brinvilliers. "It belongs to her alone," said the paper," and can be of use to no one else. If she be dead before me, then it is my desire that the casket be burnt, without being opened by any one. This I charge upon those who find it, as they would have peace on earth, and as they value their souls. This is my last will" The very solemnity of these instructions defeated their purpose, and caused the agents of justice to open the packet so much cared for. Poisons, and receipts for poisons, with directions to use them, constituted nearly the whole.contents. A note from the marchioness to Saint-Croix, containing a promise of 30,000 livres, was also there, and some letters from the same party. These did not precisely disclose the truth, but were sufficient to excite strong suspicions. Meanwhile, the marchioness, had heard of the decease of Saint-Croix, and came instantly to the spot. Probably aware of the existence of the paper, she demanded the casket, It was refused to her, and, in great anxiety, she endeavoured to bribe the officers. Finding all vain, she grew alarmed, went home, and, having made rapid preparations, fled towards Flanders, which she reached in safety. A piece of matchless audacity on the part of La Chaussée, the valet, threw new light on the affair. This man came forward, and asserted that Saint-Croix had a large sum of money of his in charge, and also owed him long arrears of wages... The police were led to examine the past history of the man, and he soon broke down under the cross-examination to which he was subjected. The deaths of the D'Aubrays, while he served them, were remembered, and he was seized. His courage failed him when put to the question, and he horrified the public by disclosing the Marchioness de Brinvilliers to be the murderess of her two brothers, and the attempted assassin of her sister. La Chaussée was fully convicted, and executed. In the mean time, the retreat of the marchioness was discovered, and a body of criminal officers were sent to bring her to justice. But she was lodged in a convent of Liege, from which sanctuary it was informal to take her by force. An active officer, named Desgrais, devised a plan of overcoming this difficulty. He dressed himself as an abbé, was introduced to the convent, and formed an acquaintance with the marchioness. After a time, by pretending an affection for her and an unlimited devotion to her interests, Desgrais gained her confidence so far as to wile her beyond the convent walls, when she was at once seized, and hurried off to France. At length the odious quarrel respecting rents and wages terminated. The peasantry, as we may now call them, diligently applied themselves to their work, which, in fact, they had been willing to perform, perhaps with some few exceptions, from the very first. When things began to right themselves, it was observed that fewer labourers wrought in the fields than formerly, and that they in general wrought only five days in the week. This excited many fears, and no little clamour. It was construed into a love of idleness in a portion of the population. Those who knew better, showed that it was simply a result of freedom; it was proved that the able-bodied, man who was now free, in some instances did double his former amount of labour, the excess forming a provision for the weaker beings who depended on him for support. The following is magistrate Fishbourne's report on the subject: During slavery and apprenticeship, one-third of the people residing on estates were considered incapable of, and were exempted from, labour. Seventy out of one hundred slaves or apprentices was considered a fair proportion. Of those seventy, probably one-third was composed of the pregnant women, or mothers of large young families, the very old or very young, sickly or ulcerated individuals, and domestics, &c., who, if deducted, would leave about one-half of the gross strength of the estate, or about fifty effective labourers. The decrease, there fore, of the number of effective field-servants is not so large as those not acquainted with plantation economy might imagine, on being told that not above half the people on an estate now work in the fields. Planters are unwilling to permit families to reside on their plantations, the females of which refuse to devote themselves to agricultural labour. The object is to increase the number of constant field-labourers: the effect, I have reason to believe, will be the reverse, for many respectable people are now availing themselves of opportunities of purchasing or leasing small pieces of land, where they are preparing to place their wives and children, and where they also will retire when they can quit the estates, without sacrificing the provisions now in the ground. Within the last three months, I have been consulted by a great many as to the necessary steps to be taken so as to secure themselves from molestation hereafter in their settle In a casket in her possession, was found a confession, apparently intended for a priest, and containing a disclosure of all her crimes. These were more horrible than had been previously conjectured. She admitted the poisoning of her father (after several trials), her two brothers, and one of their children; and these admissions were universally credited, though she afterwards averred having written this in a state of frenzy.ments." She also said in the paper, that, from mere childhood,. Other magistrates corroborate the fact that the she had lived a life of wickedness. On her way to Paris, she made several attempts to escape, and once endeavoured to poison herself; but she was brought to the capital, and convicted on trial, amid outcries of horror from the whole nation. Madame Sevigné describes her as the theme of universal talk during her imprisonment. After her condemnation, she retracted the professions of innocence made at her trial, and avowed her many murders, expressing great contrition for them, according to her confessor's statement. Nevertheless, she exhibited no compunction or fear at her execution, which Madame Sevigné thus describes: -"Paris, 17th July 1676. At last all is over. Brinvilliers is in the air: her miserable little body was thrown after the execution upon a great fire, and burnt *It was at six in the morning that she was led from prison in a shift, with a rope round her neck, and conveyed to Notre Dame, by way of to ashes. The following is excellent, from Mr E. D. Baynes, April 3, 1839:-" In the midst of so much misrepresentation, and so much real or affected despondency on the part of the planter, the confidence of the great majority of the other classes of the community in the stability and security of property, remains unabated. Land, especially in the vicinage of towns, has risen, and is increasing in value. Mr Duncan Hamilton, of Retreat, in the parish of St John, who, four years since, assured me that he did not think he could get L.3000 for his property, has, within these few weeks, disposed of it to Mr Alexander Reid Scott, a storekeeper of Kingston, for the sum of L.10,000.” Mr Ramsay, April 6, of the same year, says"During slavery and the apprenticeship, the jobber charged from L.10 to L.12 per acre for digging, with his slaves or apprentices, an acre of land into caneholes: now, at wages of 1s. 8d. per day, an acre of cane-holes may be dug for the sum of L.2, 108. cur rency; at 2s. Id. wages, it will cost L.3, 2s. 6d. ; at 2s. 6d. wages, it will cost L.4, 10s. ; and at 3s. 4d., the highest rate of wages that I have heard of, it will cost only L.5, just one-half what it cost in times past. The whole estimated expense of each negro to the planter, was from L.6 to L.7 per annum." We come now to evidence produced by the stipendiary magistrates only a few months ago. The report of Mr Grant, June 10, contains the following valuable information. "I have remarked that the persons who are loudest in proclaiming the deplorable state of the country, are the very persons who grasp most firmly the property they have in it, and, if they have the means, are most willing to purchase more. This may be honest. They may be doing this without any sinister motive. I know one of them who purchased a property about three years ago. He was lately offered nearly treble the amount he gave for it. Did he take it? No; but in the same breath he would assert that the country was ruined. In Clarendon, matters are going on pretty well, but there are some of the properties in the mountains of that parish on which the manufacture of sugar cannot be carried on with profit adequate to the outlay of money and trouble attendant on the cultivation and on the difficulties and expenses of the embarguidiar. It is well known that, during slavery and apprenticeship, the debts due on many properties mortgaged to English merchants accumulated annually. This, although detrimental to the interest of the proprietor, was not so to the merchant. It secured to him, at an annual loss to the proprietor, freight for his ships, interest for his money, commissions for his trouble, and the monopoly of the estate's supplies. It was, therefore, the interest of the merchant to keep up the cultivation of poor and badly situated properties, though they were profitless in every respect to the absent proprietor. Now, I fancy, matters will be different. The debts of the proprietor, instead of having diminished on their first amount, having accumulated to a greater sum than the estate is worth, the property will likely be sold, and another staple resorted to, maintaining a proper relation between expenditure and profit. value of manual labour has greatly increased since it found to be a far more powerful excitement to industry than any which has yet been had recourse to. If it is therefore proved that the result of the money stimulus has been extra exertion, it necessarily follows that fewer persons are required to carry on, under the voluntary system, cultivation to the same extent as that carried on under the compulsory." We may close this department of the subject with the following extract from the report of Mr Lyon, July 31:-" At this period last year, while the result of free labour was a speculative matter, calculations were published by various parties on the probable expense and profit of sugar cultivation by free labour. In nearly all the data, it was presumed that no profit would be realised by those estates which made less than eighty hogsheads. The amount for contingencies inseparable from such manufacturing establishments, was computed to be nearly as great on these small estates as on larger ones. The experience of this crop has, however, shown that apprehension to have been delusory, as I have had opportunities of learning that where less than even eighty hogsheads have been made, a very considerable income has been realised. One estate in this parish, making seventy-five hogsheads, with a proportionate quantity of rum, has netted L.1000 sterling. The capability of successfully cultivating the staples of the colony, under a free system, with judicious and economical management, having been proved by the experience of the past year, it will in future be requisite to observe and report upon the proper application of labour, and the judgment exhibited in the culture of lands, as a necessary prudence on the part of managers to ensure a permanent succession of prosperous harvests, and their own estimate of the prospects of interest which the future will realise for all existing investments of capital in colonial agriculture." We are glad to turn to a line of evidence which, while generally testifying to the growing prosperity of Jamaica, throws much cheering light on the social progress of the peasantry. We believe we shall best please our readers by copying the extracts from the magistrates' reports from beginning to end, as they appear in the work before us : "The free children are, in the towns, usually sent to school; but, on the estates, the too general aversion of the managers to all steps taken to enlighten the minds or to ameliorate the condition of the peasantry, has led them to resist the establishment of schools on the properties under their charge. Hence, I regret to say, the negro villages too often abound in children fast approaching to puberty, who wander about in a state of nudity, untaught to do anything for them selves or others. Every denomination of sectarians in the island, with the exception of Presbyterians and Independents, has a place of worship in Spanish Town. There are also various schools for the education of youth. That of the Rev. James M. Phillipps, the Baptist minister, is by far the best conducted and the most numerously attended." (E. D. Baynes, Sept. 20, 1838.) "The good effects of compensated labour are every day becoming more apparent. During the apprenticeship, a constant source of complaint was, that the young children were kept in ignorance and in idleness. The effect of a free system is clearly discernible on this point. There are in this parish twelve schools. These have become crowded with the children of such of the labourers as are able to keep them clean and spare their labour; and it is now no uncommon thing to sce a mother, whose means are less, with her four or five children, busily employed in picking coffee from morning to night, to raise the funds to support and clothe, and, at intervals, to send them to school. It may not be improper here to mention, that the desire for religious instruction increases daily. There are in this parish thirteen places of worship, with full congregations."—(Grant, Nov. 20, 1838.) "Several candid proprietors have lately informed me that they find their produce, in all its stages, far more secure than formerly. The superior character and behaviour of instructed negroes is forcing from some, who have heretofore given the institutions of religion but little countenance, the value and importance of such safeguards,' especially, they say, in the present very peculiar and critical state of the island."-(Daughtry, Jan. 1, 1839.) "The church and schools are crowded, and the greatest desire for religious and other instruction is evinced by the entire population. They never think it too late to learn; and it is curious sometimes to see a man about forty years of age or upwards learning his letters, or spelling words of two and three syllables. The number of marriages and baptisms increases daily. There is a great change in the apparel of the mass of the peasantry; and in their general demeanour they are most respectful."-(Grant, March 18, 1839.) "The peasantry continue not only most anxious for the increase of religious and educational impulses, but bear all the burdens of instruction with cheerfulness; in proof of which, I beg leave to state to his excellency the governor the intention of those in this district under the pastoral care of the Rev. Mr Rowden, Wesleyan minister at Bath, who have agreed voluntarily to erect a new church at their own exclusive cost, and mean to convert the old chapel into a school for the education of the rising generation.”—(Pryce, March 31, 1833.) "It is to be lamented that schools are not more numerous in this parish. There is one on this estate (Morland), and it is astonishing how far the children are advanced; some of the children, not more than four and five years of age, are able to read and spell very correctly." (Mahon, June 12, 1839.) "The moral conduct of the labouring population | feet, and, last of all, they show thair plumis and winges. warrants the highest commendation. Some months Finally, when they are comin to the just measure and past, a great portion of them evinced a marked desire quantity of geese, they flie in the air, as other fowlis for religious instruction; and with a view of gratify- do, as was notably proven in the year of God ane ing them in so desirable and praiseworthy an object, thousand four hundred and eighty, in sight of many I applied to the Wesleyan body for one of their minis- people, beside the Castle of Pitsligo, when ane great ters to attend at my residence every Sabbath, which tree was brocht by allusion and flux of the sea to land. was readily acceded to; and it affords me infinite This wonderful tree was brocht to the laird of the pleasure in stating that, within the last three weeks, ground, who soon after gart divide it by ane saw. from 100 to 150 congregate weekly: their demeanour Appeared then ane multitude of worms, throwing themon such occasions reflects the highest credit on them. selves out of sundry holes and bores of this tree. Some District perfectly tranquil."(Hamilton, June 8, of them were rude as they were but new shapin. Some 1839.) had baith head, feet, and winges, but they had nae featheris. Some of them were perfect shapen fowlis." The writer then proceeds to mention other similar cases, and particularly that of the ship Christopher of Leith, the timber of which, when broken up, showed all the holes "full of geese." But the old scribe has also to produce a "notable example shawn afore our awn een." Being in the Western Isles, a companion of the writer chanced to lift from the sea-side tangle hingan full of shells," and was astonished, on opening one, to find in it "na fish, but ane perfect shapen fowle. This clerk, knowing us right desirous of sic uncouth things, cam hastily with the said tangle, and openit it to us with all circumstances afore rehearsit." It is further explained, that it was from seeing "fruits that fell off the trees converted in a short time into geese," that some persons "believed thir geese to grow upon the trees," a mistake altogether (says the writer), since it is a sea-worm, which eats into the fruit, that "grows into a goose." "I have been present at some of their meetings, in In closing the present paper, we think little need THE BARNACLE, OR TREE-GOOSE. The particulars of the barnacle or tree-goose delusion are worthy of noting. One of the most remarkable accounts, as well as one of the earliest and weightiest, respecting the barnacle, is that prefixed to Bellenden's Translation of Boece's Chronicles of Scotland, from which the following is an extract, with the language slightly modernised. Next, to speak of the geese generated of the sea, named clakis (the old Scottish name for the barnacle). Some men believis that these clakis grow on trees by the nebs. But thair opinion is vane." From this notion entertained of it, the barnacle still bears the common name of the tree-goose. It was imagined that the young birds dropped into the water from the trees. "Howbeit these geese (continues the old writer) are bred mony sundry wayis, they are bred aye originally by nature of the seas. For all trees that are cast in the seas, in process of time appearis first worm-eaten, and in the small bores and holes thairof grows small worms. First, they show thair head and ane Were this statement found in some single author, we might pass it by as a ridiculous mistake, or wilful falsehood, undeserving of notice. But the most learned writers of Europe, from the fifteenth to the eighteenth centuries, repeat the story, as for example, Gerard (in his Herbal), Saxo-Grammaticus, Arnoldus, and others of equal authority. It becomes, therefore, a curious question, to determine how the error arose, particularly as many writers aver having seen the strange birds alluded to. Gerard states, that what "his eyes He then mentions a small isle on the coast of Lancahave seen, and his hands touched, he shall declare." shire, in which is found, on pieces of old timber, a "certain spume or froth, which in time breedeth into certain shells," like those of the muscle; and out of hanging out, and as it groweth greater, it openeth the these shells, in due time, "come the legs of a bird shell by degrees, till at length it is all come forth, and hangeth only by the bill; in short space after it cometh to full maturity, and falleth into the sea, where it gathereth feathers, and groweth to a fowl bigger than a mallard and lesser than a goose." This bird is spotted, he says, something like a magpie, and is sometimes called by the people a pie-annet, and sometimes a tree-goose. So far Gerard speaks apparently from report, but he also states that he himself found, near Dover, a shell, slightly different from the preceding, but with similar contents. He broke several, and found in some living things without shape, and "in others (says he), which were nearer come to perfection, I found living things that were very naked, in shape like a bird; in others the birds were covered with soft down, the shell half open, and the bird ready to fall out, which no doubt were the fowls called barnacles." Another respectable eye-witness on this subject was Sir Robert Murray, a member of the privy-council of Scotland, and a member of the Royal Society at its first institution, who published in 1678 a narrative of what he saw on a visit to the Hebrides, In the "isle of East" (Uist) Sir Robert saw a dried log on the shore, with a multitude of little shells sticking to it, "having within them birds perfectly shaped, supposed to be barnacles. This bird, in every shell that I opened, I found so curiously and completely formed, that there appeared nothing wanting as to the external parts for making up a perfect sea-fowl. The little bill like that of a goose, the eyes marked, the head, neck, breast, wings, tail and feet formed; the feathers every where perfectly shaped, and blackish-coloured; and the feet like those of other water-fowl, to my best remembrance." It is unnecessary to quote further authorities to show the prevalence of the belief that the barnaclegoose was produced, not after the fashion of its kind, but from a tree, like a ripe apple; or was brought to light by spontaneous generation, from the scum of the sea, or in a muscle shell. Perhaps the most striking proof of the universality of this notion is given by a decision of the Sorbonne in Paris-a body comprising the most learned men of France. These gentlemen adroitly took advantage of the admittedly wonderful origin of the barnacle-goose to give themselves and all true believers a good additional dish for lent. They declared that these geese were no longer to be considered as birds, and that therefore their flesh might with perfect propriety be eaten at all fasting seasons. This was a capital practical inference, extracted from a popular fallacy; for such it proved to be, as may readily be imagined. It is worthy of notice, that the translator of Boece, as well as Gerard and Sir Robert Murray, all of whom imagined themselves to have got ocular proof upon the subject, can only positively assert that they saw something in a shell no bigger than a muscle's, of the shape and appearance of a small bird, but cannot give the authority of their own eyesight for the conversion of these into actual full-grown birds. Nor did they see any of them in the transition state. "I never (says Sir R. Murray) saw any of the little birds alive, nor met with any body that did. Only, some |