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CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF "CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE,"
"CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c.

NUMBER 459.

MALINGERING*-NOT MILITARY.

"And now remains

That we find out the cause of this effect;
Or rather say the cause of this defect;
For this effect defective comes by cause."
Hamlet.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1840.

THAT old fox upon two legs, Charles Maurice Talley-
rand Prince de Benevento, was one day told that an
experienced French courtier and statesman of his own
stamp had been seized with a fit of the gout. Imme-
diately on receiving this piece of intelligence, Talley-
rand fell into a fit of musing, or seemed to do so. He
was asked what was the tenor of his thoughts. "I
am just reflecting what peculiar interest old
(naming the courtier in question) can have in being
gouty at present."

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This anecdote shows in a remarkable manner the difference between ordinary men's ideas and those of great conductors of affairs. The common mind would have scen nothing in the illness but something to be lamented for the sake of the man afflicted; but the politician knew that his friend had a reason for every thing, not even excepting his gout, and he accordingly thought of nothing but to divine what object the old gentleman had in view on the present occasion. Talleyrand's acuteness brings us in mind of a circumstance in the life of Pope Sextus V., a contemporary of our Queen Elizabeth. While a simple cardinal, he was a man comparatively without influence, and had, to appearance, very little chance of attaining to be head of the church. But he surmounted all obstacles. His predecessor, a very old man, grew ill, and evidently was not long for this world. A mighty contention arose between the two parties who entertained the strongest hopes of filling the chair of St Peter. The college of cardinals was divided into two factions, so nicely balanced in strength that neither side could be confident about the issue. Meanwhile, the hero of our anecdote took no part with any of the candidates. "For his part, he was an infirm man; all the ailments that flesh is heir to had settled in his poor frame; he wished all parties well, but with the toils and struggles of the busy world he had no longer any concern." The candidates for the popedom beheld and pitied their poor colleague, and, each of them being afraid at that particular moment of the issue of a contest, they adopted the idea, probably upon a hint given, that it would be the safest plan for both to push the infirm cardinal for the time into the chair. He was, they thought, too much debilitated to perform its duties without aid; they would govern for him, and he would not be long in their way. Accordingly, when the popedom became vacant, the cardinal was made Sextus V. surprise and dismay of the two candidates, when they But what was the beheld the new pope arise from his couch, cast away all signs of debility, and stride to his coronation with a vigorous and stately step, that spoke of years to come of health and strength! They had been outwitted, and had nothing for it but to succumb to the sway which they had brought upon themselves, and which proved of the firmest order, and far more durable than they had been led to anticipate.+

The reader will now, we apprehend, be fully aware of the value and importance of a little timely infirmity. One can easily suppose that, if a minister were beginning to decline in the favour of his sovereign, a few days' confinement with some severe malady might give him such a claim upon the sympathy of his mas

*"Malingering-a term applied to the simulation of diseases by soldiers, with a view to avoiding duty, or obtaining their discharge."-Dictionary of Modern Terms.

Sextus V. reigned five years, namely from 1585 to 1590.

If

ter as would tend to stay his downward course.
he were accused of some great mal-administration,
an illness, described in the bulletins as likely to prove
fatal, might save him from an impeachment, for who
would obviously be for the interest of such a man not
could think of taking stern measures with a poor
helpless old man already at the point of death? It
to get well until the minds of his enemies and of the
public had been in a great measure turned to some
new subject of engrossing interest. Much may of
course depend on the way in which a statesman ma-
nages his illnesses. It would never do if he were to
take to his chamber in time. Perhaps it might even
turn too suddenly ill immediately after his falling
into danger. He should foresee a coming storm, and
he could clap on his nightcap in an instant, and ap-
be advisable for a minister in critical times never to
be too well, so that, let danger come ever so suddenly,
pear quite as sick as there was any occasion for.

In the walks of ordinary life, a few well-managed
lenient view of the foibles of humanity, but believe it
appearances of infirmity prove, in their own limited
way, of not less consequence. We would fain take a
gentlemen, and (truth compels us to add) young
ladies, who complain without ceasing of defective
may be safely averred, that one-third of the young
vision, and, on that plea, keep eye-glasses dangling
haps a great part of the mystery lies in the fact that
over their necks, can see quite as far into a millstone
as the most sharp-sighted of their neighbours. Per-
two eyes are common to all of mortal mould. They
are vulgar things, which every plebeian can boast of
possessing, and of possessing, for the most part, in a
bred from the low-bred, but they may be deprived, at
very acute and exercisable state. There lies the rub.
The eyes cannot be taken out, to distinguish the high-
instances, the black ribbon and the pendent eye-glass
least in seeming, of that healthiness which charac-
terises the vision of the vulgar.
suggests another reason, in the case of a senatorial
Hence, in most
of the young malingerer of fashion. Cowper, indeed,
young, genteel, and handsome. He has a pair of very
good eyes in his head, which not being sufficient, as
candidate, whom he thus describes :-"He is very
it should seem, for the many nice and difficult pur-
suspended by a ribbon from his button-hole." But
poses of a senator, he has a third also, which he wears
eye-malingerer is not an M.P., and our first solution
though this may be an explanation of the custom, as
true as it is ingenious, in the case of senators, every
of the matter, we imagine, is the more generally cor-
rect one. The depreciatory phrase "rude health"
people to despise the vulgar blessing of good eyes, and
thing rude!-indicates the feeling which leads some
as if in the extremest good health there could be any
support the optician.

charming latitude young ladies and gentlemen, with
It is true that there are peculiar advantages in the
eye-glasses and spectacles, allow themselves, as re-
plea of weak sight, and the use of eye-glasses. What a
gards staring and the cutting of acquaintances, either
out of doors or at assemblies and parties! If any in-
ing way in which every young gentleman, provided
dividual, unspectacled or unglassed, were to fix his
eye upon a fair neighbour, in the downright persever-
from the protector of the fair one stared at would be
with such appendages, thinks himself entitled to do in
the boxes of the theatre, a challenge or a knock-down
the certain consequence. But the all-excusing glasses
protect the malingerer from any such troublesome
results. Then, again, look at that young lady with
the eye-glass. How coolly she turns her eye upon an
almost immediate neighbour of her own sex, and

PRICE THREE HALFPENCE.

seems as if she were about to send an account of her whole habiliments to the Belle Assemblée. Nay, with what superlative nonchalance she turns her glass upon the gentleman opposite, so distinguished by moustache and fur collar. If an unglassed lady were to attempt this latter feat, she would assuredly be set down as void of all delicacy-totally wanting in that modesty which is the best ornament of her sex.

simulated infirmity, either through affectation, or for The ears, not less than the eyes, may be the seat of a growther was a magnificent example of the comforts purposes useful to the simulator. Sir Mungo Malaand advantages derivable from a convenient deafness. That renowned knight, it will be remembered, heard the advantage of Sir Mungo, never fell in vain on Sir nothing but what it suited him to hear. A dun was a month, and all in vain ; while any word that related to personage who might have roared into his ear for a There be Malagrowthers yet stirring in the world. Mungo's organs, though whispered ever so lightly. eye-malingering, it is deemed a base thing to particiSome, too, are deaf because good ears are vulgar possessions, and because, as in the more familiar case of pate even in the blessing of good hearing with the common mass of humanity.

Has it been generally noticed that medical men are
a class who become amazingly soon old and infirm?
A young man passes surgeon, or is capped physician,
and bye, particularly if he be a man of sense, he
and settles down in some town to practise. He may
begins to present the appearance of incipient age. He
retain his youthful aspect for a short time; but by
flowing locks appear to get rapidly thin, and he per-
walks with slow steps, and perhaps stoops a good deal.
spectacles of a staid and venerable kind. His lately
His eyes seem to fail him, for he assumes a pair of
and a sombre, gravely-cut suit of black, take the place
haps mounts a goodly middle-aged wig. His dress is
hunting-coats, in which he once used to shine; while
of the smart Belcher neckerchiefs and round green
in accordance with this change. White neckcloths,
place to place. The alteration is great and surprising.
you would declare his looks to be those of a man of
a cane is ever in his hand, to support his steps from
You know him to be considerably under thirty, and
five-and-forty. "Hard work," you may be disposed to
entering his own snug apartment, you would see him
say, "must that of a surgeon be." But you are on a
wrong scent entirely. The
as ever, and, if you saw him sit down to a book, after
young
doctor is as vigorous
vast deal better without than with them. If you
simulating age and infirmities. The cause of all this
toss his venerable spectacles aside, being able to see a
possessed his confidence, you would hear him laugh
heartily as he detailed his various manoeuvres for
him. The ladies, above all, he found difficult to sa-
young-looking a man had acquired any medical know-
ledge, or would intrust the care of their bodies to
is plain. Nobody, he found, would believe that so
others, acquired with vast labour and expense, should
tisfy on this point. Age, then, being the only quali-
fication he wanted, he thought it a pity if so many
of his ability, accordingly.
have him old, why, he would just be old, to the best
go for nothing, and resolved that, since they would

haunting his bed-room with coddlements and delicacies
early life-when mammas and aunts were incessantly
No one who has had the pleasure of being unwell in
of all kinds-can be at a loss to divine why people at
indisposed, or even a little lame. We have known a
a maturer period of life like so much to be a little
for weeks after all the genuine consequences of his
young gentleman walk about with his arm in a sling

i

accident had vanished, and only part with the dear ensign of infirmity with the greatest reluctance. We have known young ladies "keep their sofas" for months, in a style of languor and paleness no doubt most effective upon their beaux, all through that severe cold which-lasted, in a genuine state, only about eight days. We reverence age; but yet it is to be feared that the pleasure of being attended to by grand-children, of having great chairs wheeled about for one, and footstools placed conveniently in front of said chairs, and neat spindle-shanked tables put down by their side for tea or book, beside the evening fire, is too tempting for elderly flesh and blood, and keeps many a worthy old gentleman far longer ill than he has any need to be.

IDENTITY OF THE COMPOSITION OF COAL WITH THAT
OF VEGETABLE MATTER.

The Association had committed to Mr Johnston,
the clever young professor of chemistry in the Dur-
ham University, the duty of drawing up a report on
the application of that science to geology. Mr John-
ston now brought forward the result of his inves-
tigations respecting coal. He finds that all kinds of
coal are composed of precisely the same elementary sub-
stances as wood, only combined in different proportions.
These elements are carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen.
In lignite, the nearest approach to the original wood,
to 160 parts carbon, there are 78 hydrogen and 48
oxygen. In the Newcastle caking coal, there are, to
160 parts carbon, 56 hydrogen and 8 oxygen. In the
Welsh anthracite, again, in which all external appear-
ances of the vegetable origin are lost, and which is
only a dry hard black mass, to 160 parts carbon, there
are 33 hydrogen and 3 oxygen. The kinds of coal in
which there are greatest proportions of hydrogen, the
element which gives flame-as, for instance, the cannel
coal-are always found uppermost, the longer chemical
action and pressure having apparently caused the
lower beds to lose more of their hydrogen. Anthra-
cite, which has least hydrogen, is always lowest. Mr
Johnston, at the end of his report, announced his
opinion that the matter of coal had in most in-
stances been produced on the spot, and not drifted, as
some geologists have supposed-an opinion for which,
notwithstanding Professor Philips's objections, we
think the evidence greatly preponderates. Dr Buck-
land paid Mr Johnston the just compliment of saying
that his report formed an epoch in the investigation
of the formation of coal.

Malingering, indeed, is obviously too ready a means of securing a dawdling sort of sympathy and attention, as well as of staving off the consequences of error, not to have been extensively made use of by mankind. The very child of three years, when conscious of having done something calling for reproof, will drawl out, "Mamma, I'm not well-I've a sore stomach," calculating that mamma can never be so cruel as speak severely to a babe in his alleged circumstances. Just the other day, we observed in an American newspaper that the feelings of the people of Baltimore had recently been moved by seeing a mercer's shop suddenly closed, and a piece of crape kept for days upon the knob of the door. At length some who knew and had extended credit to the party, called at his residence, and found that he had gone no one knew whither. The door was then opened, and the shop found to have been stripped of every article of "dry goods" except that magical piece of crape, which had sentinelled the door to such good purpose. Here was the same principle at work. Most creditors will acknowledge that they have found nothing so apt to baffle them in their endeavours to obtain payment of debt in difficult cases, as an appearance, real or pretended, of illness on the part of the debtor. The course of law is effectually obstructed by the course of medicine, and the justest claim is hushed to silence beside a sick-bed. Hence it is that in novels debtors are scarcely ever taken to jail except in the last stage of severe, though Dr Robb, in his paper on the river St John, stated rarely well-defined illness, and striking tableaux are that, along the course of that river, there were terformed from the entering of the undertaker's men races one above another on the sides of the vale, and and the sheriff's officers at the same moment. In all of them parallel. They are composed of sedimenany kind of contested case between man and man, ketary matter, in which fragments of rock are found. is sure to have a great advantage over his opponent, [He was asked if shells were found, and answered, only who can contrive first to be seized with some alarming malady. It comes to nearly the same thing if he only a few, and these of marine kinds; but the country, have some dear member of his family in the alarming from having no limestone, and from the great length state, for that equally entitles him to sympathy, and of the winters, was, he conceived, unfavourable for the will probably be not less fatal to his adversary. Even formation of shells.] The terraces, he said, are disto be able to make it appear that one is much older tinctly marked, and he exhibited sections of them. than his opponent, may give one some advantage. "I Similar terraces were found on other North American am now an old man" somehow tells very affectingly, rivers, and he was inclined to consider them, as Dr however ridiculous the postulate which it prefaces, or bad the conduct which it is designed to excuse. Darwin had done the Glenroy terraces, as beaches some importance, namely, that there is much more benevolence in the world than there is conscientious

RAISED BEACHES.

PROFESSOR AGASSIZ'S ACCOUNT OF THE GLACIERS AND
MORAINS OF SWITZERLAND.

No communication to the Geological Section attracted greater attention than an address which Professor Agassiz of Neufchatel delivered,* respecting the glaciers of Switzerland. He particularly drew attentention to facts relative to the manner in which the glaciers move. He attributes their movement to the continual introduction of water into all their minutest fissures, which water, in freezing, continually expands the mass. What follows is an account of his communication drawn up under his own eye:-"The bases of the glaciers, and the sides of the valleys which contain them, are always polished and scratched. The fragments of the rocks that fall upon the glaciers are accumulated in longitudinal ridges on the sides of the middle and lateral masses. The result is longitudinal ice, by the effects of the unequal movement of its deposits of stony detritus, which are called morains; but as the glaciers are continually pressed forwards, and often in hot summers melted back at their lower extremity, it results that the polished surfaces, occasioned by friction on the bottom and sides, are left uncovered, and that the morains, or curvilinear ridges of gravel, remain upon the rocks formerly covered by the ice, so that we can discover, by the polished surfaces and the morains, the extent to which the glaciers have heretofore existed, much beyond the limits they now occupy in the Alpine valleys. It even appears to result from the facts mentioned by Professor Agassiz, that enormous masses of ice have, at a former period, covered the great valley of Switzerland, together with the whole chain of the Jura, the sides of which, facing the Alps, are also polished, and interspersed with angular erratic rocks, resembling the boulders in the morains, but so far different, that the masses of ice, not being there confined between two sides of a valley, their movements were in some respects different-the boulders not being connected in continuous ridges, but dispersed singly over the Jura at different levels. Professor Agassiz conceives that at a certain epoch all the north of Europe, and also the north of Asia and America, were covered with a mass of ice, in which the elephants and other mammalia found in the frozen mud and gravel of the arctic regions, were imbedded at the time of their destruction. The author thinks that when this immense mass of ice began quickly to melt, the currents of water that resulted have transported and deposited the masses of irregularly rounded boulders and gravel that fill the bottoms of the valleys; innumerable boulders having at the same time been transported, together with mud and gravel, upon the masses of the glaciers then set afloat. Professor Agassiz announced that these facts are explained at length in the work which he has just published, 'Etudes sur les Glaciers de la Suisse, illustrated by many beautiful plates, which were laid before the Geological Section. Professor Agassiz is also inclined to suppose that glaciers have

These speculations serve to illustrate a truth of raised into their present situation by successive up-been spread over Scotland, and have every where pro

ness.

An appeal to the feelings of mankind tells in a moment; an appeal to their sense of justice comes poorly off in comparison. One may have reason and right both upon his side in the clearest manner, and yet, if the opposite party can only work a little on the public pity, his pleadings will be all in vain.

heavals of the land.

This interesting subject was further illustrated by a paper read by Mr Smith of Jordanhill; but, as we lately gave a short account of Mr Smith's speculations on this subject, we shall here notice his statements very briefly. Of the superficial beds in the neighbourhood of Glasgow, the uppermost is a sand; next is a brick clay, interlaminated with sand, containing marine shells; then, the hard blue clay called in Scotland the till. There were evidences of all of MEETING OF THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION these being formed after the tertiary period, or period

AT GLASGOW.

SECTION OF GEOLOGY AND PHYSICAL GEOLOGY.

THE Geological Section, as formerly remarked, was attended on this occasion by almost all the first-rate men connected with the science-Buckland, Lyell, De la Beche, Agassiz, Murchison, Philips, &c.-besides many of less elevated standing, but who have already proved themselves skilful investigators. It was the section which attracted uniformly the largest audience, and was attended, we were somewhat surprised to remark, by the largest proportion of ladies. Some papers of very great interest were read before the section; and to the best of these we now propose devoting some attention.

BACKWARD CASCADES OF THE RIVER ST JOHN.

Some remarkable features of the river St John in New Brunswick were explained by Dr James Robb. The St John is of the size of the first-class European rivers. Draining a large region, it discharges a prodigious quantity of water into the Bay of Fundy, especially during the spring floods, when the tides rise to the height of 35, 50, and even sometimes 60 feet above the ordinary level. The river being ten miles in breadth, but in several places contracted into narrow channels, at one place into a strait of 300 feet, a strange phenomenon arises, namely, that on the coming back of the tide, it pours through these channels into the wide spaces beyond, in the form of magnificent cascades. Thus, the St John may be said to have waterfalls going backwards, or against the direction of the river.

*Thursday, September 17.

he meant to follow up his researches in the Highduced similar results." He concluded by saying that lands of Scotland, where he confidently expected to find evidence of such glaciers having existed, particularly around Ben Nevis.

[It may here be remarked that Professor Jameson, some years ago, published an account of morains which he had discovered in Norway, in districts where no glaciers are now to be seen. Mr Darwin more lately found glaciers reaching down to the level of the highest rocks. Between these and the sand- of the sea on the coast of Chili, in latitude 46°, that stone, there were three other beds of sand. In some is, eleven degrees nearer the equator than Ben Nevis. of these beds, forty feet above the present sea-level, These particulars will form a suitable preface to the about 15 per cent. of shells not now existing. What Professor Jameson, from Fort Augustus, on the 3d great quantities of sea-shells were found, containing following letter which Professor Agassiz addressed to was most remarkable, the shells in some of these beds of October, after he had visited Glenroy and Ben resembled those of shell-fish which now inhabit arctic Nevis. It was designed for publication in the Edinregions, seemingly showing that a much colder climate had burgh New Philosophical Journal; but being too late at one time existed in our island. The president, Mr for the current number of that work, it was commuLyell, expressed his belief that, both in North America nicated to the public through the medium of the and here, there had been a change to a warmer or at Scotsman newspaper. The discovery of morains on least more uniform climate. He adverted to the Ben Nevis is certainly a most interesting circumpossible connexion of Mr Smith's discovery with the stance; but we must, with all humility, confess that we dread some rashness in the learned professor's theory of erratic blocks. [This theory is, that the beds of rock, have been transported in seas to their perfect levelness and parallelism of which seem to us large detached stones now found far from their native conclusion respecting the terraces of Glenroy, the present situation, attached to icebergs, from which they irreconcilable with the idea of their having been had been dropped, the bottom of the sea on which laid by any thing but quiescent water:-" After havthey fell being afterwards raised so as to become drying obtained in Switzerland the most conclusive land.] Mr De la Beche said he had been struck by proofs that at a former period the glaciers were of Mr Smith's statement that the beds in which the much greater extent than at present, nay, that they shells were found, were forty feet above the present had covered the whole country, and had transported level of the sea; and he asked if this was about the the erratic blocks to the places where these are maximum height. Mr Smith answered that it was now found, it was my wish to examine a country nearly so; when Mr De la Beche remarked that forty where glaciers are no longer met with, but in which feet was also the maximum of the elevation of a raised they might formerly have existed. I therefore dibeach in Cornwall, Devonshire, &c., as ascertained by rected my attention to Scotland, and had scarcely the gentlemen of the Ordnance Survey. It was, he arrived in Glasgow, when I found remote traces of said, a remarkable coincidence, and would seem to the action of glaciers; and the nearer I approached show that a change in the level of the sea and land the high mountain chains, these became more distinct, had taken place over a large area. [We believe, Mr until, at the foot of Ben Nevis, and in the principal De la Beche might have said the whole island of Great valleys, I discovered the most distinct morains and Britain, as a raised beach of about the same height polished rocky surfaces, just as in the valleys of the is found in the north of Scotland, as well as in the Swiss Alps, in the region of existing glaciers; so that Firths of Forth and Clyde, and in the southernmost the existence of glaciers in Scotland at early periods extremity of England.] can no longer be doubted. The parallel roads of Glenroy are intimately connected with this former

[blocks in formation]

occurrence of glaciers, and have been caused by a glacier from Ben Nevis. The phenomenon must have been precisely analogous to the glacier-lakes of the Tyrol, and to the event that took place in the valley of Bagne. It appeared to me that you would be glad to be able to announce, for the first time, in your extensively-read journal, the intelligence of the discovery of so important a geological fact."]

THE SKIPPER'S STORY.* Ir's about four years ago, I was strolling one evening down the side of the harbour at Cove, with my hands in my pockets, having nothing to do, nor no prospect of it, for my last ship had been wrecked off the Bermudas, and nearly all the crew lost; and somehow, when a man is in misfortune, the underwriters won't have him at no price. Well, there I was looking about me, at the craft that lay on every side waiting for a fair wind to run down Channel. All was active and busy; every one getting his vessel ship-shape and tidy, tarring, painting, mending sails, stretching new bunting, and getting in sea-store; boats were plying on every side, signals flying, guns firing from the menof-war, and every thing was lively as might be-all but me. There I was, like an old water-logged timbership, never moving a spar, but looking for all the world as though I were a-settling fast to go down sternforemost; maybe as how I had no objection to that same; but that's neither here nor there. Well, I sat down on the fluke of an anchor, and began a-thinking if it wasn't better to go before the mast than to live on that way. Just before me, where I sat down, there was an old schooner that lay moored in the same place, for as long as I could remember; she was there when I was a boy, and never looked a bit the fresher nor newer as long as I recollected; her old bluff bows, her high poop, her round stern, her flush deck, all Dutch like, I knew them well, and many a time I delighted to think what queer kind of a chap he was that first set her on the stocks, and pondered in what trade she ever could have been. All the sailors about the port used to call her Noah's Ark, and swear she was the identical craft that he stowed away all the wild beasts in during the rainy season. Be that as it might, since I fell into misfortune I got to feel a liking for the old schooner. She was like an old friend; she never changed to me, fair weather or foul; there she was, just the same as thirty years before, when all the world were forgetting and steering wide away from me. Every morning I used to go down to the harbour and have a look at her, just to see that all was right, and nothing stirred; and if it blew very hard at night, I'd get up and go down to look how she weathered it, just as if I was at sea in her. Now and then I'd get some of the watermen to row me aboard of her, and leave me there for a few hours, when I used to be quite happy walking the deck, holding the old worm-caten wheel, looking out ahead, and going down below, just as though I was in command of her. Day after day, this habit grew on me, and at last my whole life was spent in watching her and looking after her: there was something so much alike in our fortunes, that I always thought of her. Like myself, she had had her day of life and activity; we had both braved the storm and the breeze; her shattered bulwarks and worn cut-water attested that she had, like

or other would buy her to break up, though, except the
copper fastenings, there was little of any value about her.
Now, the moment I saw the two figures stop short and
point to her, I said to myself, Ah! my old girl, so they
won't even let the blue water finish you, but they must
set their carpenters and dock-yard people to work upon
you. This thought grieved me more and more. Had
a stiff sou-wester laid her over, I should have felt it was
natural, for her sand was run out: but just as this passed
through my mind, I heard a voice from one of the per-
sons that I at once knew to be the port admiral's.
"Well, Dawkins," said he to the other, "if you think
she'll hold together, I'm sure I've no objection: I don't
like the job, I confess, but still the admiralty must be
obeyed.""

"Oh, my lord," said the other, "she's the very thing;
she's a rakish-looking craft, and will do admirably; any
repair we want, a few days will effect: secrecy is the
great thing."
"Yes," said the admiral, after a pause, as you ob-
served, secrecy is the great thing."

Ho! ho! thought I, there's something in the wind
here; so I layed myself out upon the anchor stock to
listen better unobserved. "We must find a crew for
her, give her a few carronades, make her as ship-shape as
we can, and if the skipper-ay, but there is the real diffi-
culty," said the admiral hastily, "where are we to find
the fellow that will suit us? we can't every day find a
man willing to jeopardy himself in such a case as this,
even though the reward be a great one."

"Very true, my lord; but I don't think there is any

necessity for our explaining to him the exact nature of

the service."

lead a poor fellow into such a scrape blind-folded?" "Come, come, Dawkins, you can't mean that you'll "Oh, as to that," said the other, "there are plenty of scoundrels in the fleet here fit for nothing else. Any fellow who has been thrice up for punishment in six months, we'll draft on board of her; the fellows who have only been once to the gangway, we'll make the officers."

A pleasant ship's company, though I, if the devil would only take the command. Ho, ho! thought I, I've found you out at last; so this is a secret expedition; I see it all; they're fitting her out as a fire-ship, and going to sead her slap in among the French fleet at Brest. Well, thought I, even that's better; that, at least, is a glorious end, though the poor fellows have no chance of

escape.

"Now, then," said the admiral, "to-morrow you'll look out for the fellow to take the command; he must be a smart seaman, a bold fellow, too, otherwise the ruffianly crew will be too much for him; he may bid high, we'll come to his price."

So you may, thought I, when you are buying his life. "I hope sincerely," continued the admiral, "that we may light upon some one without wife or child; I could never forgive myself"

"Never fear, my lord," said the other; "my care shall be to pitch upon one whose loss no one would feel; some nought, cares less for the gain than the very recklessness one without friend or home, who, setting his life for

of the adventure."

stock, and leaping between them; "I'm that man." "That's me," said I, springing up from the anchor

Had the very devil himself appeared at the moment, 1 doubt if they would have been more scared. The admiral started a pace or two backwards, while Dawkins, the first surprise over, seized me by the collar, and held me fast.

"Who are you, scoundrel, and what brings you here ?" said he, his voice hoarse with passion.

The whole of the following day was passed by me in state of feverish excitement which I cannot describe; this strange adventure breaking in so suddenly upon the dull monotony of my daily existence, had so aroused and stimulated me, that I could neither rest nor eat. How I longed for night to come!-for sometimes, as the day wore later, I began to fear that the whole scene of my meeting with the admiral had been merely some excited dream of a tortured and fretted mind; and as I stood examining the ground where I believed the interview to have occurred, I endeavoured to recall the position of different objects as they stood around, to corroborate my own failing remembrance.

At last the evening closed in; but, unlike the preceding one, the sky was covered with masses of dark and watery cloud, that drifted hurriedly across; the air felt heavy and thick, and unnaturally still and calm; the water of the harbour looked of a dull leaden hue, and all the vessels seemed larger than they were, and stood out from the landscape more clearly than usual; now and then a low rumbling noise was heard, somewhat alike in sound, but far too faint, for distant thunder; while, occasionally, the boats and smaller craft rocked to and fro, as though some ground swell stirred them without breaking the languid surface of the sea above.

A few drops of thick heavy rain fell just as the darkness came on, and then all felt still and calm as before. I sat upon the anchor-stock, my eyes fixed upon the Old Ark, until gradually her outline grew fainter and fainter against the dark sky, and her black hull could scarcely be distinguished from the water beneath. I felt that I was looking towards her; for long after I had lost sight

of the tall mast and high-pitched bowsprit, I feared to turn away my head, lest I should lose the place where she lay.

not been long there, I felt as if years themselves had The time went slowly on, and although in reality I had passed over my head. Since I had come there, my mind brooded over all the misfortunes of my life; as I contrasted its outset, bright with hope and rich in promise, with the sad reality, my heart grew heavy, and my chest heaved painfully; so sunk was I in my reflection, so lost in thought, that I never knew that the storm had broken loose, and that the heavy rain was falling in torrents. it pattered upon it, while the low wailing cry of the seaThe very ground, parched with long drought, smoked as gull, mingled with the deep growl of far-off thunder, told that the night was a fearful one for those at sea. Wet through and shivering, I sat still, now listening, amid the for any footstep to approach; and now, relapsing back noise of the hurricane and the creaking of the cordage, into a half-despairing dread that my heated brain alone had conjured up the scene of the day before. Such were my dreary reflections, when a loud erash aboard the schooner told me that some old spar had given way. I pened, but in vain; the black vapour, thick with falling strained my eyes through the dark to see what had hap rain, obscured everything, and all was hid from view. I could hear that she worked violently as the waves beat against her worn sides, and that her iron cable creaked have taken my last look at the old craft, when my at as she pitched to the breaking sea. The wind was mo mentarily increasing, and I began to fear lest I should tention was called off by hearing a loud voice cry out, "Halloo there! Where are you?"

"Ay, ay, sir, I'm here." In a moment the admiral and his friend were beside me.

"What a night !" exclaimed the admiral, as he shook the rain from the heavy boat cloak, and cowered in be neath some tall block of granite near. "I began half to hope that might not have been my poor fellow," said the admiral; "it's a dreadful time for one so poorly clad for a storm; I say, Dawkins, let him have a pull at your it cheered my drooping courage.

myself, not escaped her calamities. We both had called by no other name for so long, I never thought of flask." The brandy rallied me a little, and I felt that

survived our dangers to be neglected and forgotten, and to lie rotting on the stream of life till the crumbling hand of time should break us up timber by timber. Is it any wonder if I loved the old craft; or if, by any chance, the idle boys would venture aboard of her to play and amuse themselves, that I hallooed them away; or, when a newly-arrived ship, not caring for the old boat, would run foul of her, and carry away some spar or piece of running rigging, I would suddenly call out to them to sheer off, and not damage us. By degrees, they came all to notice this; and I found that they thought me out of my senses, and many a trick was played off upon Old Noah, for that was the name the sailors gave me.

Well, this evening, as I was saying, I sat upon the fluke of the anchor, waiting for a chance boat to put me aboard. It was past sunset, the tide was ebbing, and the old craft was surging to the fast current that ran by with a short impatient jerk, as though she were well weary, and wished to be at rest: her loose back-stays creaked mournfully, and, as she yawed over, the sea ran from many a breach in her worn sides, like blood trickling from a wound. Ay, ay, thought I, the hour is not far off; another stiff gale, and all that remains of you will be found high and dry upon the shore. My heart was very heavy as I thought of this, for, in my loneliness, the Old Ark was all the companion I had. I've heard of a poor prisoner who, for many and many years, watched a spider that wove his web within his window, and never lost sight of him from morning till night; and, somehow, I can believe it well; the heart will cling to something, and, if it has no living object to press to, it will find a lifeless one: it can no more stand alone than the shrouds can without the mast. The evening wore on, as I was thinking thus; the moon shone out, but no boat came; and I was just determining to go home again for the night, when I saw two men standing on the steps of the wharf below me, and looking straight at the Ark. Now, I must tell you I always felt uneasy when any one came to look at her, for I began to fear that some ship-owner

This portion of a very clever and amusing book, "Charles O'Malley," is reprinted here, with the permission of the publishers, Messrs W. Curry, Jun. and Co., of Dublin.

"I'm Old Noah," said I; for, somehow, I had been my real one.

"Noah!" said the admiral; "Noah! Well, but Noah, what were you doing down here at this time of night ?" as I took off my hat. "I was a-watching the Ark, my lord," said I, bowing,

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"This is not a time, nor is it a place, for much par ley," said the admiral; "so that we must even make short work of it. Since we met here last night, I have satisfied myself that you are to be trusted, that your character and reputation have nothing heavier against them than misfortune, which certainly, if I have been rightly informed, has been largely dealt out to you. Now, then,

"I've heard of this fellow before, my lord," said Dawkins; "he's a poor lunatic that is always wandering about the harbour, and, I believe, has no harm in him." "My lord," said I, boldly, "I am not mad. Misfor-I am willing to accept of your offer of service, if you are tune and calamity I have had enough of to make me so; still of the same mind as when you made it; and if you but, thank God, my brain has been tougher than my are willing to undertake what we have to do, without poor heart. I was once the part owner and commander any question and inquiry as to points on which we must not and dare not inform you. This is the plan: as soon of a goodly craft, that swept the sea, if not with a broad as that old craft can be got ready for sea, or some other, pennon at her mast-head, with as light a spirit as ever if she be not worth it, you will sail from this port with lived beneath one. I was rich; I had a home and a child: I am now poor, houseless, childless, friendless, Your destination is Malta; your object to deliver to the a strong crew, well armed and supplied with ammunition. and outcast. If, in my solitary wretchedness, I have admiral stationed there the dispatches with which you loved to look upon that old bark, it is because its fortune seemed like my own. It had outlived all that needed will be intrusted; they contain information of immense mad, though there are those, and not few either, who can or cared for it; for this reason have they thought me importance, which, for certain reasons, cannot be sent through a ship of war, but must be forwarded by a veswell bear testimony if stain or reproach lie at my door, sel that may not attract particular notice. If you be and if I can be reproached with aught save bad luck. I attacked, your orders are to resist; if you be taken, on have heard, by chance, what you have said this night; I no account destroy the papers, for the French vessel can know you are fitting out a secret expedition; I know its scarcely escape re-capture from our frigates, and it is of dangers, its inevitable dangers; and I here offer myself great consequence these papers should remain. Such is to lead it; I ask no reward; I look for no price. Alas! a brief sketch of our plan; the details can be made who is left to me for whom I could labour now? Give known to you hereafter." me but the opportunity to end my days with honour on but that. Well, if you will not do so much, let me serve board the old craft where my heart still clings: give me among the crew; put me before the mast. My lord, you'll not refuse this; it is an old man asks, one whose grey hairs have floated many a year before the breeze." "My poor fellow, you know not what you ask; this is no common case of danger."

"I know it all, my lord; I have heard it all." "We," said the admiral, must speak together again. Be here to-morrow night at this hour; keep your own counsel of what has passed; and, now, good night." So saying, the admiral took Dawkins by the arm, and returned slowly towards the town, leaving me, where I stood, meditating on this singular meeting and its possible consequences.

"I am quite ready, my lord: I ask for no terms; I make no stipulations. If the result be favourable, it will be time enough to speak of that. When am I to sail ?"

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I do not shorten sail here to tell you what reports were circulated about Cove, as to my extraordinary change in circumstances, nor how I bore my altered fortunes. It is enough that I say, that in less than three weeks I weighed anchor, and stood out to sea one beautiful morning in autumn, and set out upon my expe.

dition.

I have already told you something of the craft. Let me complete the picture by informing you that, before twenty-four hours passed over, I discovered that so ungainly, so awkward, so unmanageable a vessel, never was put to sea: in light winds she scarcely stirred, or moved

the boarding party drawn up, when the Frenchman broached to and lashed his bowsprit to our own. One terrific yell rose from our fellows as they sprang from the rigging and the poop upon the astonished Frenchmen, who thought the victory was already their own; with death and ruin behind, their only hope before, they dashed forward like madmen to the fray.

as if she were water-logged; if it came to blow upon the quarter, she fell off from her helm at a fearful rate; in wearing, she endangered every spar she had; and when you put her in stays, when half round she would fall back, and nearly carry away every stitch of canvass with the shock. If the ship was bad, the crew were ten times worse. What Dawkins said turned out to be literally true: every ill-conducted, disorderly fellow, who had The conflict was a bloody and terrific, though not a long been up the gangway once a week or so-every unre- one; nearly equal in number, but far superior in personal claimed landsman, of bad character and no seamanship-strength, and stimulated by their sense of danger, our was sent on board of us; and, in fact, except that there was scarcely any discipline and no restraint, we appeared like a floating penitentiary of convicted felons.

So long as we ran down the Channel, with a slack sea and fair wind, so long all went on tolerably well; to be sure, they only kept watch when they tired below, and reeled about the deck, went down below, and all just as they pleased, and treated me with no manner of respect. After some vain efforts to repress their excesses-vain, for I had no one to second me-I appeared to take no notice of their misconduct, and contented myself with waiting for the time when, my dreary voyage over, I should quit the command, and part company with such associates for ever. At last, however, it came on to blow, and the night we passed the Lizzard was indeed a fearful one. As morning broke, a sea running mountains high-a wind, strong from the north-west-was hurrying the old craft along at a rate I believed impossible. I shall not stop to recount the frightful scenes of anarchy, confusion, drunkenness, and insubordination, which our crew exhibited; the recollection is too bad already, and I would spare you and myself the recital; but, on the fourth day from the setting in of the gale, as we entered the Bay of Biscay, some one aloft descried a strange sail to windward, bearing down as if in pursuit of us. Scarcely did the news reach the deck, when, bad as it was before, matters became now ten times worse, some resolving to give themselves up, if the chase happened to be French, and vowing that, before surrendering, the spirit-room should be forced, and every man let drink as he pleased. Others proposed, if there were any thing like equality in the force, to attack and convert the captured vessel, if they succeeded, into a slaver, and sail at once for Africa. Some were for blowing up the old schooner with all on board; and, in fact, every counsel that drunkenness, insanity, and crime combined, could suggest, was offered and descanted on. Meanwhile, the chase gained rapidly upon us, and before noon we discovered her to be a French letter of marque, with four guns, and a long brass swivel upon the poop-deck. As for us, every sheet of canvass we could crowd was crammed on, but in vain; and, as we labðured through the heavy sea, our riotous crew grew every moment worse, and sitting down sulkily in groups upon the deck, declared that, come what might, they would neither work the ship nor fight her; that they had been sent to sea in a rotten craft, merely to effect their destruction; and that they cared little for the disgrace of a flag they detested. Half furious with the taunting sarcasm I heard on every side, and nearly mad from passion, and bewildered, my first impulse was to rush amongst them with my drawn cutlass, and, ere I fell their victim, take heavy vengeance upon the ringleaders, when suddenly a sharp booming noise came thundering along, and a round shot went flying over our heads.

"Down with the ensign!-strike at once!" cried eight or ten voices together, as the ball whizzed through the rigging. Anticipating this, and resolving, whatever might happen, to fight her to the last, I had ordered the mate, a stanch-hearted resolute fellow, to make fast the signal sailyard aloft, so that it was impossible for any one on deck to lower the bunting. Bang went another gun, and, before the smoke cleared away, a third, which, truer in

its aim than the rest, went clean through the lower part

of our mainsail.

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Steady, then, boys, and clear for action," said the mate. "She's a French smuggling craft, that will sheer off when we show fight, so that we must not fire a shot till she comes alongside."

"And harkee, lads," said I, taking up the tone of encouragement he spoke with, "if we take her, I promise to claim nothing of the prize. Whatever we capture, you shall divide amongst yourselves."

"It's very easy to divide whatever we never had," said one. "Nearly as easy as to give it," cried another. "I'll never light match or draw cutlass in the cause," said a third.

"Surrender!"-" Strike the flag!"-" Down with the colours," roared several voices together.

By this time the Frenchman was close up, and ranging his long gun to sweep our decks; his crew were quite perceptible, about twenty bronzed stout-looking fellows, stripped to the waist, and carrying pistols in broad flat belts slung over the shoulder.

"Come, my lads," said I, raising my voice, as I drew a pistol from my side and cocked it, "our time is short now; I may as well tell you that the first shot that strikes us amidship blows up the whole craft, and every man on board. We are nothing less than a fireship, destined for Brest harbour to blow up the French fleet. If you are willing to make an effort for your lives, follow me."

The men looked aghast. Whatever recklessness crime and drunkenness had given them, the awful feeling of inevitable death at once repelled. Short as was the time for reflection, they felt that there were many circumstances to encourage the assertion; the nature of the vessel, her riotous, disorderly crew, the secret nature of the service, all confirmed it, and they answered, with a shout of despairing vengeance, "We'll board her; lead us on." As the cry rose up, the long swivel from the chase rung sharply in our ears, and a tremendous discharge of grape flew through our rigging; none of our men, however, fell; and, animated now with the desire for battle, they sprang to the binnacle and seized their

arms.

In an instant the whole deck became a scene of excited bustle; and scarcely was the ammunition dealt out, and

fellows rushed onward, carrying all before them, to the quarter-deck. Here the Frenclimen rallied, and, for some minutes had rather the advantage, until the mate, turning one of their guns against them, prepared to sweep them down in a mass. Then it was that they ceased their fire, and cried out for quarter. All, save their captain, a short thick-set fellow, with a grisly beard and moustache, who, seeing his men fall back, turned on them one glance of scowling indignation, and rushing forward, clove our boatswain to the deck with one blow. Before the example could have been followed, he lay a bloody corpse upon the deck, while our people, roused to madness by the loss of a favourite among the men, dashed impetuously forward, and, dealing death on every side, left not one man living among their unresisting enemies. My story is soon told now. We brought our prize safe into Malta, which we reached in five days. In less than a week our men were drafted into different men-of-war on the station. I was appointed a warrant-officer in the Sheerwater, forty-four guns; and as the admiral opened the dispatch, the only words he spoke puzzled me for many a day after. "You have accomplished your orders too well," said he; "that French privateer is but a poor compensation for the whole French navy."

Many years afterwards I found that our dispatches were false ones; intended to have fallen into the hands of the French, and mislead them as to Lord Nelson's fleet, which at that time was cruising to the southward to catch them. This, of course, explained what fate was destined for us; a French prison, if not death; and, after all, either was fully good enough for the crew that sailed in the old schooner.

POETRY OF FRANCE.

EIGHTH ARTICLE.

ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE is a poet of a very different stamp from Pierre Jean de Beranger, and of a genius much less decidedly national, or at least less akin to that which characterises the past poetical literature of France. Perhaps it would be more correct to say that the genius of Lamartine is truly national, but that his poetical tendencies and powers have been modified by, and moulded upon, models very unlike any afforded by his own country either in old or recent times.

England, and more especially Wordsworth and Byron, The poetical luminaries of modern are the high exemplars which Lamartine has set before himself, and the result has been a marked commingling of the spirit and tone of these two bards in his compositions. The latter are as pure as the writings of Wordsworth as regards moral and religious sentiments; but the temperament of the French poet was ardent and impassioned as that of Byron, and hence the calm and philosophic gravity of the great Lake poet will be looked for in vain in the productions of the continental bard. In a word, Lamartine is something of a religious Byron. But, though we rank him beside either of his English contemporaries in the French poet highly, we would by no means place point of real poetical merit. His writings are beautiful and highly imaginative, but their excellence is marred by diffuseness-by a want of condensed power both in thought and language.

These observations will introduce to our readers a brief specimen of Lamartine, being the opening of a long poem addressed to Byron, who was then in life. It will be seen how deeply the strangely-mingled qualities of the English poet had impressed the mind

of the French writer:

Thou, whose true name not yet mankind have glean'd,
Mysterious spirit, angel, man, or fiend!

Be thou a genius or of good or ill,

Byron, I love thy wild strange music still-
More than the roar of winds, or thunder's voice,
Mingling in tempest with the torrent's noise!
Night is thy sojourn, horror thy domain.
Like thee, the eagle scorns the lowly plain;
King of the wilds, he seeks the rugged rocks,
By winter blanch'd, and scarr'd by lightning-shocks;
Shores strewn with shipwrecks by the angry flood,
Or fields by war all blacken'd o'er with blood;
And, whilst the gentler bird that sings and grieves,
Builds upon flowery banks its nest of leaves,
He of Mount Athos spurns the awful crown,
And hangs his eyrie where abysses frown;
And there, alone, engirt by quivering limbs,
Whence o'er the rocks black gore for ever swims,
Joying in cries from many victims sent,
Rock'd by the storm, he sleeps in fierce content!
Thou, Byron, like this brigand of the air, &c.

stood, to the wild and mocking way in which, in his This terrible comparison refers, it will be underlater days, Byron allowed himself to speak of the virtues and failings of man, and, indeed, of all that involved his best interests. Lamartine, in the sequel, endeavours to reason Byron into submissive resignation to the decrees of Heaven-an attempt which at least shows the earnest nature of Lamartine's own mind. The object of the address, as we find from his letters, only smiled at the other's simplicity. The French poet further showed his admiration of the English bard by adding a canto to Childe Harold, describing the close of the real Childe's pilgrimage on earth. Enough of this subject, however. Our readers will doubtless prefer another specimen of Lamartine's

poetry to our prose. The following little piece is from one of his books of "Harmonies, Poetical and Religious :"—

TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
What time thy heavenly voice preludes
Unto the fair and silent night,
Wing'd minstrel of my solitudes,
Unknown to thee I trace its flight.
Thou knowest not that one remains

Beneath the trees hour after hour,
Whose ear drinks in thy wondrous strains,
Intoxicated by their power;

Nor that the while a breath of air
Escapes but from my lips with grief;
And that my foot avoids with care
The rustling of a single leaf;
Thou deemest not that one, whose art
Is like thine own, but known to day,
Repeats and envies in his heart
Thy forest-born nocturnal lay!
If but the star of night reclines
Upon the hills thy song to hear,
Amid the branches of the pines
Thou couchest from the ray in fear.
Or if the rivulet, which chides

The stone that in its way doth come,
Should speak from 'neath its messy sides,
The sound affrights and strikes thee dumb!
Thy voice, so touching and sublime,

Is far too pure for this gross earth:
Surely we well may deem the chimne

An instinct which with God has birth!
Thy warblings and thy murmurs sweet
Into melodious union bring

All fair sounds that in nature meet,

Or float from heaven on wandering wing.
Thy voice, though thou may'st know it not,
Is but the voice of the blue sky-
Of forest glade, and sounding grot,

And vale where sleeping shadows lie;
It blends the tones which it receives
From prattlings of the summer rills,
From trembling rustlings of the leaves,
From echoes dying on the hills;
From waters filtering drop by drop
Down naked crag to basin coel,
And sounding ever, without stop,

While wrinkling all the rock-arch'd pooi;
From the rich breeze-born plaints that flow
From out the branchy night of trees;
From whispering reeds, and waves that go
To die upon the shores of seas;
Of these sweet voices, which contain
The instinct that instructeth thee,
God made, oh nightingale, the strain
Thou givest unto night and me!
Ah! these so soft nocturnal scenes,

These pious mysteries of the eve,
And these fair flowers, of which each leans
Above its urn, and seems to grieve;
These leaves on which the dew-tears lie,
These freshest breathings of the trees-
All things, oh Nature, loudly cry,

"A voice must be for sweets like theso!"
And that mysterious voice-that sound,
Which angels listen to with me,
That sigh of pious night-is found

In thee, melodious bird, in thee!

of Lamartine. There may be a want of the tangible This piece forms a very fair specimen of the poetry and substantial about it, but, in place of these qualities, there is a fine dreamy beauty, both of sentiment and imagery, and much eloquence of language. At the mean time, one or two pieces by other French some future time we shall return to Lamartine. In authors lie before us, which may perhaps please our readers. Alfred de Vigny is one of the cleverest novel writers of modern Irance, and he has also comlyric, which we select merely because it is at hand, posed some most beautiful poetry. The subjoined being quoted in a very able notice of the writer in the Westminster Review, seems to us very spirited, though we mean not to record any approval of the ultramarine tendencies displayed in it. These are perhaps allowable, however, in the case of a sea-rover addressing the lady of his love.

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Then daily would I satisfy

Each lightest wish, Adéle, of thine: No jot of avarice have I,

But boundless is this love of mine.

To make immortal my Adêle,

Were I with powers of song inspired, My verse, which still on her should dwell, Would be from age to age admired. Thus may the future's memory

Our graven names one day entwine:

I have no wish for fame-not I,

But boundless is this love of mine.

If Providence should deign to place
My steps upon a kingly throne,
Adéle that splendid dream should grace,
And all my rights be hers alone.
To please her more, I willingly
Would see a court around me shine:
Ambition--none of it have I,

But boundless is this love of mine.
But why these vexing vain desires,
Since every wish Adêle doth crown!
More happiness true love inspires,

Than grandeur, riches, or renown. Then, let me on that bliss rely,

Which fate can never make me tyne; Nor wealth, nor fame, nor rank have I,

But boundless, boundless love is mine!

These various specimens from the poetical stores of modern France, may be closed with another piece, the production of one who filled a high place in that country in days not long past, Hortense Beauharnois, daughter of the Empress Josephine, and wife of Louis Bonaparte. For a time, it will be remembered, Hor

tense sat on the throne of Holland. She was a wo

man of extraordinary beauty and accomplishments. and deeply attached to her native France. The subjoined lines, entitled "The Charms of Fatherland," were written by her when about to return to that land after a long exile. Happy for the poor lady that she did not live to see her eldest son sent to a dungeon there, a captive for life!

I go to see my own dear land once more;
I go to die where first I saw the light!
How much your loss, ye cold ones, I deplore,
In whom the thoughts of home no thrill excite !
Ye fields, of childhood's joys the teeming scene,
With hosts of tender recollections sown,
The twofold charm ye offer us, I ween,

Of recent joys mix'd up with those long gone.
All here below feel more or less the tie

That draws us where our infant cradles lay;
Sweet sympathy, which makes life lightly fly,

And from the grave takes ev'n its gloom away!
Wearied with absence, lengthen'd out too long,
Of former pleasures I delight to dream;
My heart revives, and Hope inspires my song,
And still is home, dear home, the cheering theme.

OCCASIONAL NOTES.

NEW VESICATORY.

WHILE nothing can be more dangerous to society than the nostrum-vending of incompetent persons, and the latitude given to it by our existing laws, on the other hand it is clear that any real advance in remedial science ought to be warmly hailed as conferring a blessing of the most direct possible kind upon humanity. In Edinburgh, within these few months, a discovery of this order has been made, which, in our opinion, merits being universally known. Counter-irritation, in the case of internal disease, has been too long approved of by the medical world for any doubt to be entertained of its utility; and, of all the counter-irritants that have been tried, cantharides, or Spanish flies, have been found the most convenient and efficacious. In fact, with the exception of mustard cataplasms in mild cases, no other blisters are now in use.

vestige of the cantharides remains behind, to excite strangury or cause a continuance of pain. The difference between the two processes, we repeat, is great as regards efficacy, neatness, cleanliness, and ease of management; and the perfect unity, also, of the vesicle produced, is a point of superiority not less remarkable.

It was from accidentally seeing its operation in private, some time since, that our attention was called to this new vesicatory. But we have subsequently learned that it has been already put to proof by a large portion of the medical public, and found to possess such superior efficacy, as renders it desirable that the discovery should be widely known. In addition to numbers of private physicians and surgeons, the Royal or Public Infirmaries of Edinburgh, Dundee, Aberdeen, and other places, have used this substance largely for a number of months, and it has gradually superseded the use of the old blisters in their practice. After employing it in several hundred cases, the medical people of the Edinburgh Infirmary have found it in no one case to produce strangury, an affection formerly most troublesome to themselves and their patients. The desired effects have been produced, on

the other hand, with almost unfailing certainty, whatand whatever the degree of toughness (no unimporever part of the frame the vesicatory was applied to, tant point) characterising the patient's skin. The apothecary of the Aberdeen Infirmary has certified within a few past weeks, and it has only failed to to his use of it in between one and two hundred cases, old blister, in a third of the cases, might perhaps produce the full effect in about six instances. [The have produced at least very imperfect vesication.] No strangury has followed the use of the new blister, and its cleanliness and convenience are highly com

mended.

We have noticed this subject, in the belief that the improvement now made in the materials of vesication will render the practice of counter-irritation, so common now-a-days in cases of disease, far less painful to the sufferer, as well as more convenient, safe, and effective. To keep silence, while aware that the means for attaining an end so desirable exist, would be nothing less than inhumane.

PHYSICAL DEFORMITIES.

An improvement in the surgical branch of the medical art is something even more important than a beneficial discovery in the department of the Materia Medica. The cure of squinting, by division of the muscles that move the eye-ball, was formerly adverted to. The same principle of cure has been extended to other deformities. A contracted arm or leg, a bent body, or a twisted neck, depends in most cases upon the very same fundamental cause to which squinting is attributable-namely, a shortening or contraction of the muscles, or of their tendonous endings. Hence the remedy is the same the division of the muscular or tendonous fibres in fault. Dr Stromeyer of Hanover, at present Professor of Surgery in the University of Erlangen, was the surgeon who first effected a cure scribed. This took place in the year 1831. The of bodily deformity, by operating in the manner desame gentleman proposed the extension of his discovery to the cure of squinting, but was not himself the first who successfully carried it into practice. Dr Duffenbach, a distinguished surgeon of Berlin, having witnessed the consequences of one of Dr Stromeyer's operations, in the person of a medical man now residing and practising in London, immediately took up the invention, and by him was it first successfully applied to the cure of obliquity of vision.

Drs Stromeyer and Duffenbach operated in their These blisters, how-respective districts, with signal success, in hundreds ever, have their disadvantages. In the first place, of cases of deformity in the arms and legs. The inthey are apt to produce the very painful affection vention found its way, a year or two afterwards, to called strangury, and in many instances cannot be Paris, and many remarkable cures have been effected used, in consequence of that accompanying mischief. there. In one late instance, a distinguished Parisian Again, the pain of the cantharides blister is very con- surgeon divided not less than forty muscles (we write siderable, and this not only while the skin is being from memory) in the body of a deformed person. The broken, but also afterwards, from portions of the flies British surgeons have been long in taking up this adhering to the spot, and keeping up the irritation operation as a regular part of their professional pracunnecessarily. A third point to be remarked is, that tice, but we have no doubt that it must soon gain the blister very seldom rises so equally as is desirable. ground and favour among them. From unequal spreading of the plaster, or unequal medical man, resident near our Scottish metropolis, An intelligent mixing of the flies, a vesicle is produced in one spot has sent us some remarks upon this subject, with and not in another, and, in short, many small irregu- a particular account of Dr Stromeyer's mode of lar vesicles are caused, instead of a single perfect one. operation, to which we have much pleasure in giving Other defects in the operation of the cantharides a place in our columns. It is painful, "in walking blisters might be noticed, but these will suffice for along the streets (says our correspondent), to see both the present purpose. Two ingenious young chemists, Messrs Smith of great personal attractions, walking upon very highold and young people, of both sexes, and sometimes of Duke Street, Edinburgh, have discovered a new vesi-heeled boots, or supporting themselves upon stilts, catory, or blister, liable to none of these objections; from deformities in their feet and limbs. If of the or rather they have discovered a new mode of using fair sex, they very naturally do their utmost to conthe cantharides, by which all its advantages are ob- ceal any thing of the kind, but their awkward gait tained without any of its disadvantages. This new betrays the existence of some defect. If such persons blistering article is very elegant in form, being manu- knew that there is a mode of curing the majority of factured in sheets resembling those of common white these affections, and that hundreds of cases have adhesive plaster. It is, in fact, a paper impregnated already been cured, they would surely hasten to inwith the effectire essence of cantharides. A slip of this, quire of their respective medical men if their own cut of the proper form, is applied in the usual way, individual cases were similarly remediable." and, under ordinary circumstances, raises a complete vesicle in from six to twelve hours upon the skin of an adult-in a lesser time, in short, by an hour or two, than the old blister would take. The application is peculiarly cleanly. No whisky or other stimulant need be applied to the skin beforehand, as formerly aone; and, when the new vesicatory is removed, no

The deformity consists, it has been said, in a shortening of the muscles, or contractions of the tendons. These are cut, and then the part is stretched to its natural shape, and kept in that position for weeks or months. For instance, "we often see people with one of their feet pointing straight downwards to the ground, and the heel five or six inches above it, and

who walk with a boot having a heel of corresponding height. Now, this affection is caused by extreme shortness of the thick tendon running for some inches above the heel (called tendo Achillis); and if this tendon be cut through, two or three inches above the heel, just as we would a piece of rope, and if we apply any apparatus so as to bring the foot to a right angle with the leg, and lengthen the interval between the cut ends, a cure is effected. The tendon is cut with a small scythe-shaped knife, with or without a button at the end of it; but the skin is left quite uncut, except to the extent of a quarter of an inch, where the knife is introduced. The operation is completed in fifteen or twenty seconds; the pain is very trifling, and only a few drops of blood come away. At other times we see feet twisted inwards or outwards, and the persons walking upon the side of the foot next the ground, the other side being one, two, or more inches above it. These affections generally depend upon contractions of the muscles acting upon the inner or outer side of the foot; and the tendons of these muscles must be cut through, along with that tendon already spoken of (the tendo Achillis), which in these cases also exercises great influence. Contractions often exist in the muscles whose tendons form the hamseveral inches before the body. To cure him, he must strings, and then the patient has a knee projecting literally be hamstrung, and a suitable apparatus then employed to straighten the leg. The hands often &c., and they can only be put to rights by cutting have their fingers turned into the palms, from burns, and then stretching out the fingers upon splints, or through the tendons, or tendonous bindings at fault, pieces of pasteboard or wood. Such contractions are common in the elbow and neck; and the principle of cure in these cases is precisely the same as in the others." Whether or not the divided tendons or muscles be perfectly united by tendonous or muscular fibres, the junction formed is at least so far complete that power of motion is restored to the part operated upon.

"As these deformities are often hereditary, it is really a matter of conscience to get rid of them as fast as possible, inasmuch as no individual, if curable, is justified in running the risk of propagating such to his or her children. It is much to be desired, then, that these affections, at once distressing to their possessors, and an eyesore to the community at large, may be extirpated from amongst us."

OLD BURGHAL REGULATIONS. THE Maitland Club, an association of gentlemen who print old manuscripts for their own private use, have just completed a second volume of what they call their Miscellany, in which, amongst other curious matters, we find certain acts and statutes of the magistrates of Edinburgh, extending from the year 1529 to 1531. These acts throw some light on the age to which they refer.

themselves not more seriously called upon to interThe town-council seem to have at that time thought fere for the maintenance of just weights and measures amongst tradesmen, than for the fixing of prices, and the prevention of retailing. They ordain, for instance, "that na brouster na dry tapster tak apone nixt cummys na xvi d. the gallonne, and at it be guid hand to sell ony derrar aill fra Monunday furth at and sufficient aill of the price forsaid;" [that is, that no brewer or dry tapster take upon hand to sell any dearer ale, from Monday next forward, than 1s. 4d. per gallon, and that it be good and sufficient ale of the price aforesaid.] The penalty is to be Ss. for the first fault; for the second, the ale is to be distributed gratis; to punish the third, the public officers are to bring "thar caldrone or kettellis to the crose, and ding thame throw with ane puncione, and spane thame fra the operation for zer and day" [to bring their caldron or kettles to the cross, and drive a puncion through them, and debar the proprietor from his trade for a year and a day.]

"Baxtarris," that is bakers, are, in like manner, ordained to bake their bread of good and sufficient stuff at twopence the eighteen-ounce loaf-the honest bailies never once reflecting, to all appearance, how the baker was to be sure of purchasing his flour at such a rate as to afford the bread at that price. He to sell his bread; and no huxter was to retail his was to have "bot ane buth" [only one shop] in which bread: all this under pain of banishment from the town. Candlemakers are to sell their candles at sixpence where the wick was of hards or lint. The pence a pound where rag wick was used, and fiveimposed upon all who shall melt their tallow "on the same penalties which enforce these regulations are fore gait," that is, the front street-in itself a curious trait of our early city customs.

"Stabillaris" are enjoined under severe penalties to have their stables well "furnest with hek and mangear, and with sufficient lokis for the durris, for sure keiping of the horsis." Prices are fixed for corn and hay; and where these articles are bought from them, they are to charge no stable fee. On the other hand, no other class of persons are to sell or "regrait" oats and hay, under severe penalties.

People dealing in poultry and wild fowl are or

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