NATURAL HISTORY.

(From James' Expedition to the Rocky Mountains.)

PRAIRIE-WOLVES.-They are by far the most numerous of our wolves, and often unite in packs for the purpose of chasing deer, which they very frequently succeed in running down and killing. This, however, is an achievement attended with much difficulty to them, and in which the exertion of their utmost swiftness and cunning are often so unavailing, that they are sometimes reduced to the necessity of eating wild plumbs, and other fruit to them almost indigestible, in order to distend the stomach, and appease, in a degree, the cravings of hunger.

Their bark is much more distinctly like that of the domestic dog, than of any other animal: in fact the first two or three notes could not be distinguished from the bark of a small terrier, but these notes are succeeded by a lengthened scream.

The wonderful intelligence of this animal is well worthy of note, and a few anecdotes respecting it may not be amiss. Mr. Peale constructed and tried various kinds of traps to take them, one of which was of the description called a "live trap," a shallow box reversed, and supported at one end, by the well known kind of trap sticks, usually called the "figure four," which elevated the front trap upwards of three feet above the slab flooring; the trap was about six feet long, and nearly the same in breadth, and was plentifully baited with offal. Notwithstanding this arrangement, a wolf actually burrowed under the flooring, and pulled down the bait through the crevices of the floor. Tracks of different sizes were observed about the trap. This procedure would seem to be the result of a faculty beyond mere instinct.

This trap proving useless, another was constructed in a different part of the country, formed like a large eage, but with a small entrance at the top, through which the animals might enter, but not return; this was equally unsuccessful; the wolves attempted in vain to get at the bait, as they would not enter by the route prepared for them.

A large double "steel trap" was next tried; this was profusely baited, and the whole, with the exception of the bait, was carefully concealed beneath the fallen leaves. This was also unsuccessful. Tracks of the anticipated victims were next day observed to be impressed in numbers on the earth near the spot, but still the trap, with its seductive charge, remained untouched. The bait was then removed from the trap, and suspended over it from the branch of a tree; several pieces of meat were also suspended in a similar manner, from trees in the vicinity; the following morning the bait over the trap alone remained. Supposing that their exquisite sense of smell warned them of the position of the trap, it was removed, and again covered with leaves, and the baits being disposed as before, the leaves to a considerable distance around were burned, and the trap remained perfectly concealed by ashes; still the bait over the trip was avoided. Once only this trap was sprung, and bad fastened for a short time upon the foot of a species, which was shot the following day at no great distance; it proved to be a species distinct from the prairie-wolf.

THE COQUIMBO OWL.-In all the prairie-dog villages we had passed, small owls had been observed moving briskly about, but they had hitherto eluded all our attempts to take them. One was here caught, and on examination, found to be the species denominated coquimbo, or burrowing owl, (strix cunicularia.) This fellow citizen of the prairie-dog, unlike its grave and recluse congeners, is of a social disposition, and does not retire from the light of the sun, but endures the strongest mid-day glare of that luminary, and is in all respects a diurnal bird. It stands high upon its legs, and flies with the rapidity of the hawk. The coquimbo owl, both in Chili and St. Domingo, agreeably to the accounts of Molina and Viellot, digs large burrows for its habitations and for the purposes of incubation; the former author gives us to understand that the burrow penetrates the earth to a considerable depth, whilst Viellot informs us that in St. Domingo the depth is

about two feet.

With us the owl never occurred but in the prairiedog villages, sometimes in a small flock much scatter

ed, and often perched on different hillocks, at a distance deceiving the eye with the appearance of the prairiedog itself in an erect posture. They are not shy, but readily admit the hunter within gun-shot; but on his too near approach, a part of the whole of them rise upon the wing, nttering a note very like that of the prairiedogs, and alight at a short distance, or continue their flight beyond the view.

The burrows into which we have seen the owl descend, resembled in all respects those of the prairiedog, leading us to suppose, either that they were common, though perhaps not friendly occupants of the same burrow, or that the owl was the exclusive tenant of a burrow gained by right of conquest. But it is at the same time possible, that as in Chili, the owl may excavate his own tenement,

From the remarkable coincidence of note between these too widely distinct animals, we might take occasion to remark the probability of the prairie-dog being an unintentional tator to the young owl, did we not know that this bird utters the same sounds in the West Indies, where the prairie-dog is not known to exist.

WOOD-TICKS-These insects, unlike the musquitoes, guats, and sand-flies, are not to be turned aside by a gust of wind, or an atmosphere surcharged with smoke, nor does the closest dress of leather afford any protection from their persecutions. The traveller no sooner sets his foot among them, than they commence in countless thousands their silent and unseen march; ascending along the feet and legs, they insinuate themselves into every article of dress, and fasten, unperceived, their fangs upon every part of the body. The bite is not felt until the insect has had time to bury the whole of his head, and in the case of the most minute and most troublesome species, nearly his whole body, under the skin, where he fastens himself with such tenacity, that he will sooner suffer his head and body to be dragged apart than relinquish his hold. It would perhaps be advisable, when they are once thoroughly planted, to suffer them to remain unmolested, as the head and claws left under the skin produce more irritation than the living animal; but they excite such intolerable itching, that the finger nails are sure very soon to do all finger nails can do for their destruction. The wound, which was at first almost imperceptible, swells and inflames gradually, and being enlarged by rubbing and scratching, at length discharges a serous fluid, and finally suppurates to such an extent, as to carry off the offending substance. If the insect is suffered to remain unmolested, he protracts his feast for some weeks, when he is found to have grown of enormous size, and to have assumed nearly the colour of the skin on which he has been feeding; his limbs do not enlarge but are almost buried in the mass accumulated on his back, which extending forward bears against the skin, and at last pushes the insect from his hold. Nothing is to be hoped from becoming accustomed to the bite of these woodticks. On the contrary, by long exposure to their venomous influence, the skin acquires a morbid irritability, which increases in proportion to the frequency and continuance of the evil, until at length the bite of a single tick is sufficient to produce a large and painful phlegmon. This may not be the case with every one; it was so with us.

The burning and smarting of the skin prompted us to bathe and wash whenever we met with water; but we had not long continued this practice, when we perceived it only to augm nt our sufferings by increasing the irritation it was meant to allay.

It is not on men alone that these bloody-thirsty insects fa ten themselves. Horses, dogs, and many wild animals are subject to their attacks. On the necks of horses they are observed to attain a very large size. It is, nevertheless, sufficiently evident that, like musquitoes and other blood-sucking insects, by far the greater number of wood-ticks must spend their lives without ever establishing themselves as parasites on any animal, and even without a single opportunity of gratifying their thirst for blood.

STANZAS.

'Twas morning-the first sun-beam broke O'er the young mother, sleeping there; From dreams of future bliss.she woke,

And woke to breathe a mother's prayer.

She watch'd the cradle where he !ay,
Her first-born pride, her infant boy;
With night her hope had pass'd away,

For death had crush'd her bosom's joy. She call'd the young babe by his name, Call'd, but she heard no lisping voice; No little hand towards her came,

To bid the mother's heart rejoice. She gaz'd upon him dead-and prest, While from her lips a faint shriek broke, Her clay-cold baby to her breastNo tear she shed, nor word she spoke. But in that sorrow, silent, deep,

She bent o'er her departed long; She gazed on him, yet did not weep, But strove to wake him with a song. And when at last they laid to rest

That blighted flower beneath the sod, She followed him she loved the bestO'er both the passing stranger trod.

PERSIAN Melodies.

H. L.

"Tis sweet to look out at the still hour of even,
And gaze on the almond-trees shining afar,
When the hills they adorn wear the beauty of Heaven,
And each silver blossom seems lit by a star:
Then I turn to the waves of The calm Band Amir® ›
And see how the stars in the water appear;

For the earth and the sky are so lovelily blended,

When the beam of Halalyt first struggles to birth, One might fancy the stars from the sky had descended To play with the flowers that bloom on the earth: 'Tis a moment whose glory is equalled by none, When the lights of two heavens are mingled in one.

There's not a flower that gems the side

Of yon clear fountain murmuring by:
There's not a playful wave can glide,
Whose sun-lit beauties catch my eye;
There's nought of pure or bright I see,
But I am sure to think of thee.
When I behold the radiant blaze

Of Mihrt just peeping o'er the billow;
When I behold his evening rays

Sink lightly on their gorgeous pillow; When aught of pure or bright I see, My love, my life, I think of thee. There's not a bird whose varied wing Displays a thousand glittering dyes; There's not a beauteous cloud can fling Its dawn of glory o'er the skies; There's nought of pure or bright I see, But I am sure to think of thee. When I behold the stars of night (A lonely hour at eve beguiling) Pour down their streams of quivering light, Like groups of youthful Peris smiling.;. When aught of pure or bright I see, My love, my life, I think of thee! The ancient Araxes. + The Moon. The Sun. Imaginary beings, fairies.

FINE ARTS.

ANGERSTEIN GALLERY. A celebrated picture-dealer is at present employed in providing the Marquis of Hertford with a collection of paintings for his Lordship's new mansion in Piccadilly. It is said that the Noble Marquis includes the Angerstein Gallery. The sum he is reported to have paid for this unique selec-. tion of chef d'œuvres is differently stated, some fixing it at 40,0001, and others at 45,000l.

VARIETIES.

COFFEE A SUBSTITUTE FOR WINE.-It is said in the Almanach des Gourmands, that the celebrated amateur, Dr. Gastaldy, prevented the return of the gout by fre quent libations of coffee à l'eau, particularly after dinner, as it forms a much better digestive than wine, and prevents cradities and obstructions of the bowels, often the forerunners of the gout.

SPORTING EXTRAORDINARY -On Monday, as a young lady was travelling on horseback from Hacking to Maidstone, she was greatly alarmed by the discharge. of a gun over a hedge. Several shot struck her clothes, and she was nearly thrown off by the horse but fortunately she escaped without personal injury. It subsequently appeared that the gun was fired by a young sportsman, who, seeing the lady's feathers above the hedge, concluded that they must belong to a bird.

No. 86.-VOL. II.

CORRESPONDENCE.

DR. GREGORY AND THE IMPERIAL MAGAZINE.

submitted to inconvenience to effect its insertion.-ED.]

TO THE EDITOR,

SIR,-Your correspondent "Civis" is perfectly right in his conjecture, that the extreme commendation bestowed upon me in the "Imperial Magazine," is far from gratifying to my feelings. He would have been equally right had he assumed, as I beg to assure him he might have done with perfect safety, that I am not responsible for the biographical article to which he refers. Its statements are, with a few exceptions, tolerably correct; but it is more consistent with my disposition and habits to shrink from, than to court, the publicity into which they would seem to have thrown me. The highest reputation to which I have aspired, is that which Civis" assigns me-the reputation of being useful; and I have simply to request that neither he nor the public will imagine that I am eagerly grasping at popularity, because some kind friend, whose memoir I did not see till it was in print, has spoken of me in a strain of panegyric which (as no person can be more conscious than myself) is far, very far, beyond my humble merits.

In reference to M. Biot's proceedings in the Shetland Isles, I may be permitted to say, that, so far as I can judge from his strictures, "Civis" is very inadequately acquainted with them, as well as with my reasons for having hitherto abstained from publishing any account of them. I have a growing repugnance to controversy, and believe, moreover, in the present case, that if I were to publish my narrative, as my friends who have read it have often urged me to do, it would not be found interesting to twenty persons in the kingdom. If "Civis," however, have any wish to be better informed upon this subject than he at present seems to be, and to learn in what manner M. Biot, by his most extraordinary conduct, defeated the main object of the expedition; should he ever visit London, and favour me with his real name and address, I shall cheerfully accede to an arrangement which will enable him to sit down quietly in my Library, and read the narrative in question from my own manuscript written in 1817.

Should he ever accomplish this, and should e be, as I presume he is, a lover of truth, and man of generous feelings, he will then, I doubt not, be eager to address to you another etter, in which he will speak both of the French philosopher and of his English associates on the Shetland expedition, in language very different from that which he has now employed.

a

Having thus proposed to your correspondent way in which I shall be happy to assist him in ascertaining the truth, I beg to say that I shall

CIVIS AND DR. GREGORY.

The Biographer* of Dr. Gregory in that very interesting work, the IMPERIAL MAGAZINE, says, " in the metaphysical department we read the name of Dugald Stewart, in the chemical that of Sir Humphrey Davy, and in the mathematical, holding a conspicuous rank, appears the name of Dr. Gregory."-Now these are INDISPUTABLE facts;-Stewart is esteemed as a lecturer on Moral Philosophy; Davy is pre-eminent as an experimental and philosophical Chemist: and Dr. Gregory's official appointment (independently of his valuable scientific works) is a decisive proof of his knowledge and abilities as a Mathematician. However, on the above extract, Civis remarks-"This association is really ludicrous."-What association? How is Dr. G. associated with Stewart in metaphysics?-Or with Davy in chemistry? Civis must re-peruse the paragraph, when his declamation will appear to himself, as it certainly does to every other reader-purely gratuitous and unjustifiable. Civis not only derogates from Dr. G. on account of a fancied association, which, even in reality, could add nothing to the Doctor's professional reputation in the estimation of liberal and competent judges, but, he also assumes a comparative rank for the Doctor which is equally unwarranted from the Memoir. He says, Dr. G. "has extended the bounds of science on the relation of solid angles, a discovery certainly curious, and formerly thought to be impossible. This discovery does not by any means warrant us in placing him at the head of the British Mathematicians."-Who ever thought it did? Has Dr. G. made such a claim in consequence of his discovery? Has his Biographer even implied as much? Then why fabricate objections to obtain scope to disparage and calumniate? Civis must learn that, in the English language, there are certain degrees of comparison; and when he has thus learned, he will perceive the view of the Biographer.-For, Dr. G. is named as-" holding a conspicuous (not " THE HEAD" or most conspicuous) rank in the mathematical department."-That is, he is eminent; or, to

To the credit of this writer I positively affirm that his account of the life of Dr. Gregory is one of the most impartial sketches I ever perased. The Dr. is (in the estimation of every unprejudiced and enlightened judge) one of the most eminent there relentine gentlemen in the British dominions, and they are, I presume, interior to noue in the world; in addition to this, from a knowledge very sufficient, and far superior to of the mildest and least ostentations men of the age.-To asperse such a man may be congenial to the views or disposition member of society would be guilty of such egregious folly. + Professor of Mathematics, &c. in the Royal Military Aca

that possessed by Civis, I am confident that the Doctor is one

of Civis in his real character, but no conscientious, intelligent

demy, Woolwich.

PRICE 3 d.

use Civis' own words, as " he has extended the bounds of science," and that too in a point "formerly thought to be IMPOSSIBLE," he, most assuredly, is a man of DISTINGUISHED TALENT! This is consequent upon Civis' own admission; but Civis affirms that the Doctor "is in INVENTIVE GENIUS far inferior to Ivory, Herschell, Leslie, Woodhouse and a number of others."Let "Ivory, Herschell, Woodhouse and a number of others" attempt the discharge of Dr. Gregory's OFFICIAL duties, (of which Civis, by the bye is perfectly ignorant) and I am pretty confident that they will readily confess that their "inventive genius" is much more easily attained than a competent knowledge of the less speculative and infinitely MORE USEFUL Courses which are elucidated and taught by Dr. Gregory.

To conclude this scientific ordeal, I shall briefly notice, that, in addition to numerous and extensive literary and scientific works, Dr. Gregory is the author of a most interesting, comprehensive, and conclusive treatise "ON THE EVIDENCES, DOCTRINES, AND DUTIES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION."-In which work, Civis and the world may learn an infinitely more hitherto found in the lectures or outlines of pure, valuable and sublime philosophy than any Dugald Stewart.-A philosophy which dignified Locke and immortalized a Newton!

ficial connexions, and most amiable in all the Dr. Gregory is extremely popular in his ofrelations of social and domestic life. Nevertheless, Civis, in moral, as in scientific, character, presumes to fabricate for Dr. G. a comparative standard.-He says " It has given me some concern to see the writer of the memoir attempt to raise the reputation of Dr. Gregory at the expense of that of a SUPERIOR character"— meaning Biot, the French philosopher, who is charged with "impetuous disposition" and "national prejudice." Taking it for granted that Civis is wholly ignorant of the "character" of these gentlemen, and assuring him that however excellent the Frenchman may be, Dr. G. is still his EQUAL-I would recommend Civis to obtain more accurate information, and to manifest a little more discretion in his future animadversions. And, lest he should consider my remarks unwarrantably severe, I beg to introduce a character from Mrs. More's Essays with a few parallel illustrations from his strictures.

Character.

"When the malevolent

Illustrations.

disrespectfully of Dr. Gre"I do not wish to speak gory. He is the author of a number of valuable elementary works." "Dr. Gregory has many admirers, and I am of the number."

The declamatory "stab" arises from the ex

intend to strike a very deep and dangerous stroke of malice, they commend the object of their envy for some trifling quality or advantage which it is scarcely worth while to possess: they proceed to make a general profession of their tract in my first paragraph own good will and a regard and proceeds-"This asfor him, and artfully re- sociation is really ludimove any suspicion of their crous; and must, assureddesign, and clear all ob- ly, be very painful to the structions for the insidious Doctor's feelings if he stab they are about to give; chance to hear of it. It for who will suspect them has too much the appear

folk, as residuary legatee to his grandmother, the Dowager Countess Alathea, and were by him carried to his mansion of Greystock Castle, where they still remain.-Lodge's Portraits of the most Illustrious Personages of Great Britain.

CHARACTERS OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT, AND HANNIBAL.-BY BONAPARTE.

Alexander, when scarcely beyond the age of boyhood, with a mere handful of brave troops, conquered a quarter of the globe. But was this achievement the result of a mere accidental irruption? No; all was profoundly calculated, boldly executed, and prudently managed. Alexander proved himself at once a distinguished warrior, politician, and legislator. Unfortunately, on attaining the zenith of glory and success, his head was turned, and his heart corrupted. He commenced his career with the mind of Trajan; but he closed it with the heart of Nero, and the manners of Heliogabalus.

Hannibal is perhaps a surprising character, from the intrepidity, confidence, and grandeur, evinced in all his enterprises. At the age of twenty-six, he conceived what is scarcely conceivable, and executed what must have been looked upon as impossible. Renouncing all communication with his country, he marched through hostile or unknown nations, which he was obliged to attack and subdue. He crossed the Pyrenees and the Alps, which were presumed to be impassable, and descended upon Italy, sacrificing the half of his army for the mere acquisition of his field of battle, the mere right of fighting. He occupied and governed Italy for the space of sixteen years, being scveral times within a hair's breath of possessing himself of Rome, and only relinquished his prey when his enemies, profiting by the lesson he had set them, marched to attack the Carthagenian territory. Can it be supposed that Hannibal's glorious carcer and achievements were the mere result of chance, and fortune's favours? Certainly, Hannibal must have been endowed with great vigour of mind, and he must also have possessed a vast consciousness of his own skill in the art of war, when, being interrogated by his youthful conqueror, he hesitated not to place himself, though subdued, next in rank to Alexander and Pyrrhus, whom he esteemed as the first of warriors.-Las Cases.

1

or rather blessings, which are poured forth, the circumstances of the night, was inconceivably apwhen her name is mentioned. The more, in- palling. As soon as I withdrew my arm, she renewed deed, enquiry is pursued, the more admiration her employment, and the horrible sounds relapsed into is excited; but it appears above all extraordina- her former muttering, only in a more agitated distinctness. I now attentively surveyed her face and figure, ry, how she had mental and bodily powers to which was before unable accurately to discern, from go through with the labours she imposed upon the little light falling upon her: it seemed to be much herself, and which from the age of thirty to that below the height of persons even at her advanced age, of sixty, when she died, were unremitted. The but whether from years or deformity, I could give no hours gained from the affairs of the state were guess. Her features were large and bony, and the flesh all given to acts of devotion and charity; and a of her face hung in loose foldings, as if unwilling to sedeep sense of religion appears to have strength- parate from the frame work to which it had been so ened her mind in the performance of her world- long attached. The expression of her countenance was ly duties. She used to say, that she" deemed harsh, forbidding, and unnatural; and there was a pallid herself answerable to God for every exercise of ashy whiteness of hue in her skin, most disgusting and power;" and in the full spirit of a pious and unearthly. Although not much given to fearfulness or benevolent mind was wont to exclaim, when superstition, I could scarcely keep my gaze upon her without feeling an indescribable trepidation that every urged by her ministers to acts of extreme severnow and then stole along my veins in cold shudders. ity, "Let us mortals beware how we destroy the works of the Almighty."-Malcolm's Memoir of Central India.

PRESENTIMENT.

(Concluded from our last.)

Necessity soon loses all ceremonious distinctions, and I then, yet giving due notice of approach, passed through the outer room towards another door, perceptible by a slight ray of light proceeding from behind it. Still, however, all continued silent, and I was altogether at a loss to account for this unaccountable silence. I listened, and fancied I could

Her head was partly concealed by the hood of a dirty threadbare cloak, which, hanging loosely over the

shoulders, exposed her lean, emaciated, and withering arms; and the thick skinny tubes over them, which had once been veins, assumed a black ugly tint, that rendered her colourless flesh still more frightful; her long horny fingers were employed in the various threads which she carefully and at intervals entwined, while her form continued in an oscillating motion, as if to keep regular time to the sentences she uttered. As she at length proceeded to the completion of her platting, her murmurs became more audibly articulated, and, when she arrived at the last knot, her body became mo

tionless, and, with her glassy eyes directed to the stool, but yet looking at vacuity, she repeated, or, rather, sung, with a sort of lisping roughness, the words which even now seem to ring in my ear:

"The fated thread, the binding spell,

Hath now been wrought and woven well;
Aud eyes shall see and hearts shall know
Deeds of sorrow, death, and woe.'

distinguish the sound as of two persons whispering, and, rendered valorous by distress, I was resolved to fathom the cause of this so rude a neglect of all common hospitality. I again listened, and perceiving that the same sound continued, went forward to the place whence it came, for the purpose of operating The great earnestness with which I listened to her on the topic as well as on the auricular nerves of those voice, and watched 'the expressions of her face, for who might appear within. The door was partly open, some moments prevented my observing the deep shade and I discovered an old woman sitting in a sort of chair which was gradually spreading itself over the room. beside the hearth, which was covered with the embers This at last increased so much, that I once more found of what should have been a large fire, the dusky blue myself enveloped in complete darkness. My mind became much troubled and alarmed at the extraordinary smoke of which still continued to ascend the chimney in large volumes, and gave a melancholy hue to all around. appearances of which I had been a witness, but my My curiosity was excited, and I examined, as narrowly apprehensions, and the inexplicable desire which I neas I was well able, the room and its decorations, and vertheless had to see the end of this strange scene, dethe nature of the employment in which she was so ab- terred me from retreating. I was not long, however, stractedly engaged. It appeared to be furnished with in this state of uncertainty, for by degrees the light two or three old chairs, and articles of ancient furniture, returned; but it looked so unnatural and unholy that it the uncouth appearance of which accorded well with the only augmented the agitation I had striven to allay. personage whom they surrounded. I could discover The old beldam still remained in the same posture, exnone of the usual accompaniments or appendages to the cepting that her right arm was raised and her fingers chamber of a common cottage, but every thing exhibit-pointing to some object on the opposite side of the ed an air unaccountably strange and mysterious: the room, and her body apparently under the influence of spiders seemed to have unobstructedly attached their a violent emotion. I unconsciously directed my eye to universal webs, in thick and angular drapery, to all the spot to which her hand was extended, and was parts of the place, and the dust of years still covered, greatly astonished to discover the distinct shadows of in undisturbed quiet, the things which were fast mould-three or four persons figured upon the wall. I anxering into decomposition. The old creature was busily engaged in her work; before her was a high stool, on which lay several oddly constructed implements, of whose use and application I could form no idea; and to the centre was fixed a loop of party coloured threads, which she seemed to be slowly and cautiously platting together. After first rapping at the door, I entered, and once more renewed my solicitation for shelter, but gave neither look, nor answer, nor token of attention. I now began to ascribe this apparent unconsciousness to one of the afflictions of old age-deafness; and, lest I should too much surprise by my abruptness, advanced very slowly, to give her time to perceive my contiguity; but her eyes were too intently fixed upon the knotted threads to regard it, and I gently and gradually placed my hand upon the stool; yet, though within a few inches of her work, I was still unnoticed. As she prosecuted her labour, she continued to mutter, in which I had at first heard, and when I moved my fingers a kind of sing-song tone, the same hoarse whispering towards her hand, for the purpose of placing them upon it, and so to dissipate her deep absence of mind; as mine approached to a near contact, she suddenly drew back her form, without leaving the threads, and made a sort of hissing rattle in her throat, which, to me, under

she

iously looked around the place, imagining that this must be produced by the intervention of other persons between it and the light, but no human creature was there except ourselves. I again turned my view to the wall, and plainly perceived the shadows to be in motion. I felt that this could be the work of no natural agency, and the cold sweat-drops started from all parts of my body. The circumstance was of itself sufficiently powerful to unman the strongest nerves, but there was something in the figures which indescribably afflicted me. They had the semblance of a female reclining in a chair, and another standing beside her; a boy appeared to be kneeling before the first, and a fourth was rapidly passing to and fro, as if in much anguish. The appearances were continually changing, and I imagined that the features, as they varied in outline, were somewhat familiar to me. I now fixed my eyes upon the female before whom the boy was kneelshadow slowly to move. ing, and, as I looked, I perceived the head of the But, what were my feelings and my agitation as I plainly recognised the exact profile of my own wife!-I saw no more! My spirits, so long overpowered and distressed, could no longer support this scene. I rushed out heedless and regardless of every thing, and, mounting my hor.