of favourable circumstances; or because the character of certain performances happens to favour the partialities of those who possess more influence in directing the reigning mode in literature or in taste than is always acknowledged. The extensive and particular study of the class of history here alluded to, which in its strictest sense is "philosophy teaching by examples," will abundantly supply instances in which the neglects of the world, and a succession of domestic troubles consequent upon a state of penury, has rendered genius a curse upon its possessor, and great powers of intellect, means for perpetuating the inquietude of a worthy individual. The decree of Providence has not always accompanied his gifts of understanding with a corresponding faculty of turning them to their own advantage; many, therefore, who were born to shine in a particular sphere, have " grown dim with age," and their energies have sunk through multiplied disappointments, and the vain hope of realiz ing schemes of happiness.

"Some hearts once pregnant with celestial fire" may rust in obscurity, and sicken through neglect; their courage may faint before the difficulties which present themselves; and stars which might have shone with lustre among the luminaries of their hemisphere, may have been extinguished in the cold indifference of those from whom they solicited notice.

Happy is that man who, conscious of integrity of heart, and knowing alike that he does not participate in the honours with which successful genius is rewarded, through the rancour of party zeal, or of some other prejudice, can still retain his tranquillity of mind, and prosecute his views with philosophic calmness; trusting that a discriminating posterity will adjudge him that rank in intellectual pre-eminence, which sacred justice demands: such an one may look abroad with an eye of proud superiority, smile at the stings and arrows of outrageous for tune;" and, far from envying the splendid success of some rival, whose versatility of character is more conspicuous than his independence of principle, will view him, divested of bis adscititious plumes, in the naked

dress in which alone he will be exhibited to futurity. Other consolations, likewise, may be thought to attend the enlarged mind, even apart from considerations of religion, which, however, when associated with them, generate a piety and a satisfaction far more sublime, which consists in marking the beauties of inanimate nature, and deducing topics of enquiry and encouragement from a fancied resemblance which may be traced between her laws and those which frequently rule in life. "The comparison of the dispensations of fortune," says a writer, "with the progress of the seasons, is equally just and beautiful. In Winter, the sun kindly withdraws his influence, that the soil may recover that vigour which has been exhausted in Spring and Summer. Thus, a state of indigence calls forth those talents, and ripens that genius, that prosperity would perhaps have extinguished."

The mind, therefore, oppressed with the sense of reiterated disappointments, may still find consolations from the practice of philosophy, and the contemplation of nature. Its pos sessor will find that, irrespective of the world, and the vacillating applauses of public favour, a calm and exhilarating interest accompanies his mental excursions. Contemplate the picture of an individual in the circumstances here described. The genius, alive to generous impressions, ambitious of fame, but distracted with cares, and chagrined with failure, seeks retirement; he walks abroad from society, and finds himself at length immured in solitude! Gloomy retrospections assail him of the past, cheerless anticipations crowd upon his mind concerning the future, he abandons himself to despair, and gives utterance to his thoughts in language like the following: "I have laboured patiently for renown; a desire to excel, and to acquire fame, has formed the constant object of lawful exertion; a succession of vain results have uniformly crowned my toils, and I now find myself destitute of resource, disgusted with imaginary schemes, and stung with the ingratitude of mankind. The world with its charms has become tasteless, inquietude takes the place of every better resolution, and embitters those hours which should be spent in fresh exertions. The quicksands

quicksands of unstable hopes, and all the numerous ills that flesh is heir to,' render life an unsubstantial shadow, an airy existence, unworthy the regards of the wise and the good."

While he thus soliloquizes, and repines at the lot of Providence, he raises his eyes, and surveys the objects about him; he finds himself perchance in a country richly diversified with natural objects, and presenting all the enchanting aspects of wildness and sublimity. Caught with their novelty, and diverted from the thread of his former reflections, a new train of ideas occupy his soul: he inhales the breezes of heaven, ranges through the verdant groves, not a shrub presents itself to his now invigorated sight, but he discovers beauties unobserved, and new sources of investigation. He raises his eyes, and surveys the fields of atmosphere which hound the prospect on either side; the grey tints of evening have solemnized the scene, while the glories of a Western sky still illumine the slow-revolving clouds as they pass at intervals over the firmament. The pleased spectator, his powers set free from the vexations which had previously harassed them, contemplates with satisfaction the new world into which he is thrown; he at once philosophizes with the eager enquiry of the sage, mentally revolves the systems of naturalists, marks their apparent errors, and endeavours to penetrate difficulties yet unsolved. Content with little, and relinquishing his former designs, he soon experiences, from the calm tranquillity which sweetens his meals, and attends his pillow, that other cares were designed by Providence to fill and expand the mind, besides the pursuits of human ambition, and that while the material system of the universe sheds its wonders around, occupations are held forth to us, which will at once interest and relieve the anxieties attendaut upon life.

I HAVE long been a constaret ad

mirer of your very interesting Miscellany, though for many months past I have been prevented by peculiar circumstances from regularly turning to its valuable pages. A few

days since, in again meeting with several of your recent numbers, I was much gratified by a perusal of the remarks of your Correspondents Economicus, Humanitas, Benevolus, &c. respecting the keeping of Bees.

Having resided by far the greater part of my time in the country, and in a part, too, where the keeping of these valuable and industrious little creatures is common, my observation has been frequently turned towards their habits and propensities. If the few remarks which I have to offer respecting them are worth a corner of your next publication, I have no doubt you will do me the honour to insert them.

dur.

The labours of the Bee seem, ing latter years, to have been greatly abridged in this country; at least in such part of it as comes under my observation, there is neither so much honey procured from their colonies, as was formerly the case, nor are there so many Bees to be found from which it can be procured.

Few things are more common that to hear the proprietor of Bees complaining that he is not able to preserve them through the season of Winter, and that the Bees are inactive during the season of gathering honey. Now I am induced to believe these complaints owe their origin to some modern refinements in the management of these useful insects.

It was the practice of the old Bee masters, half a century ago, when Bees were known to be much more productive than at the present time, to place their charge as much in a state of nature as possible. For this purpose they had what was usually termed a Bee-garden, situated at some distance from the habitations of men, and surrounded by a tall hedge, of a circular form, composed of white blossom thorn, inclosing a plot of ground of 15 or 20 feet diameter, with only a narrow entrance sufficient for one person to be ad

mitted at a time. In this circular inclosure, the hives were placed on moderately high and very firm stools, and the place of their abode was often

so overgrown with the userious

as to render it almost impervious to intruders; the hives were sheltered from the inclemency of storms by thick coverings of straw of a conical shape; and in this strong hold,

the Bees, secure from molestation, seldom failed to produce a plentiful supply of their delicious sweets. Unfortunately, this good old mode is sacrificed to modern folly; and in its stead an elegant Bee-house in the Chinese, or some other still more ris diculous style, must be erected; into this refined modern structure the industrious insects are now compelled to enter; and most likely, if the owner can afford it, into hives of glass at the same time, instead of warm coverings of straw. Now this Chinese Bee-house must be placed at no great distance from the dwelling-house, because the curious proprietor wishes to attend to their labours, and therefore it must be placed in his own garden, which, forsooth, must also be planted, for the use of the Bees, with flowers of such kind as are known to yield honey in the greatest abundance; and in this situation, the Bees, constantly subject to the unwelcome visits of domestics, friends, and curious neighbours, besides dogs, and other animals, embrace the earliest opportunity of quitting their elegant apartments, and fly to a more congenial abode in the hollow of some antient tree; or if they do not seek a more agreeable residence, they seldom prove industrious, or produce honey in any material quantity, so that, if left without assistance, they generally die during the season of Winter, and not unfrequently destroy

one another in warfare.

Bees are not fond of artificial habitations, nor will they collect their materials from flowers planted about them, but seek their honey abroad; they are not fond of the society of man, and often testify their disapprobation of it. To be thriving, they should be resigned, as much as possible, to the care of their parent, Nature. I knew an instance of a very indolent fellow, who possessed a large colony of Bees, about which he never gave himself the smallest conceru, yet his Bees were remarkably productive. On a warm day in the month of June he happened to have a young swarm issue forth from one of his hives, which soon settled on a bush close to the edge of a deep ditch, in which the young swarm, as soon as hived, were placed until they should become sufficiently quiet to be removed to a more eligible situGENT. MAG. Suppl, LXXXVÏÏ. Part. I.

B

ation, but which, to be brief, was forgotten ever to be done; in this state they remained upon the ground, and, overgrown by every kind of rubbish, until the owner's attention was called to them the ensuing year by a neighbour, who discovered them preparing to send out a young swarm. The original stock proved, upon examination, the strongest and richest in the man's possession.

It is not the laudable curiosity of the ingenious and inquisitive Naturalist, with regard to Bees, that I would condemn; but if we would see Nature in perfection, we must tread Nature's paths. W. WEEKES.

To all and singuler Capteynes, Lieutenaunts, Masters of Shippes, SouldioTM, Maryners, Saylors, and other men and Serviters whatsoeuer for the voyage towards the Northewest unto the country nowe named Meta incognita Martyn Frobyser, Esquyar, her Maties Admirall › in those parts, and Generall Capteyne and Governor in and for the saide voyage, sendith greetinge: Forasmuche as of com'on experyence, yt is and alwayes hath byn founde necessarie that in such cases of government and conduction of men and shippes as aforesaide, every Generall, by reason be cannot be present in all placs at all tymes, shoulde therefore depute and substitute a Generall Deputie under hym, with full authoritie and com'ission to doo and exén inge to good rule and government as cute all things whatsoever apperteynlargelie and amplie as his Gen'att hym

self might or coulde doo being personally present Know ye therefore, that I the saide Martyn Frobyser have named, appoynted, and ordeyned, and by theise p'nts doo name, appointe, and ordeyneEdward Fenton, Esquyer for the bodye of of sov'eign ladye the Quene, my Ge nerall Deputie and Lieutenante for me

and

and in my sted and place in this saide voyage and jorney from tyme to tyme in myne absence in all places to doo and execute, and to com'aunde, and cause to be done and executid all and singuler thinge and things whatsoever whiche shalbe necessarie for the rule, government, conducc'on, and appoyntment of all, and singuler men, matters, and things whatsoever, as largelie and amplie as I my self myghte doo by vertue of her maties l'res patents to me thereof made and bearing date the xxth daye of M'che in ye xxth yere of her reign, and according to suche instructions as I have heretofore by wrytinge signed, receyved from her Highnes pryvie Counsell, the true copie whereof I have delyvered to the

saide Edwarde Fenton, com'aundinge and enioyninge all and singuler p'sons whatsoev in or attendaunte upon the saide voyage from tyme to tyme at all tymes to be obedyent to my saide Deputie and Lieftenante generall in all the pemisses, as they will aunsware for the contrary and as they tender the good pleasure and contentac'on of or sovereigne lady the Quenes Majestie, and of her moste honorable pryvie counsell, by whose specyall knowledge and com'aundement this p'nte com'ission is made and delyvered in force as aforesaide. In witnes whereof I the saide Martyn Frobyser hereunto have sett my Seale. Geoven the three and twentieth daie of Maye, in the twentith yere of the reigne of our Sovereigne Lady Elizabeth by the grace of God Quene of England, Fraunce, and Irelande, defendor of the faithe, &c.

I Martine Frobisher. L. S. Sealed and delyv'd in the pesence of suche her Mats com'issyon's for the Voyage withinseid whose names are subscribed. John Dee, Michael Locke, Andrewe Palmer.

Remarks on Ecclesiastical History.

FROM

Letter III.

ROM almost all the reliques issued a similar sanative extillation [stillicidium]; but even the common lamp-oil used in the churches has been known to restore sight to the blind, as is related in miraculis S. Dionysii Paris. lib. ii. n. 33. Taken inwardly, numbers of the sick, especially of fevers, were relieved by it; and Mabillon quotes a passage from Sulpitius Severus, wherein it is as serted, that Martinus, after blessing common oil, administered it inwardly. From the tomb of St. Segolena

flowed a curative oil without ceas ing; the sacristan repeatedly set a large glass under it, as it continued to trickle. This oil was good for all diseases. I shall here just remark by the way, that the earliest report of it is borrowed from the legend in actis S. Johannis, et vita ejus, which was still read in Greek in the sixth century. Euphræmius, a Bishop of Antioch, formerly comes orientis, makes mention of it as yet extant in bis time; and affirms that John was not dead any more than Enoch and Elisha; that he was indeed buried, agreeably to the general opinion, but presently made his escape; and from his grave flowed the holy oil, which we still continue to draw. So it is related in these books: Photii Biblioth. codice 229. pag. 443. edit. Hæschel.

We find however even simpler remedies than this. Gregory relates of Bishop Fortunatus, that in the war of the Goths, two boys were carried captive, whom he would fain have ransomed; but the Goth positively rejected his offer. In much grief therefore he said to the Goth, thou wilt repent of this refusal. The latfore him. As he rode by a Church ter rode on, having sent the boys bededicated to St. Peter, the horse stumbled with one foot, when the Goth was thrown down and fregit coxam, ita ut in duabus partibus os ejus divisum. This brought him to recollection; and he directly sent back the boys. The Bishop upon this, gave to his deacon consecrated water, to pour over the body of the patient. Having done so, mox, ut aqua benedicta Gothi coxam contigit, ita omnis fractura solidata est-immediately the fracture was healed, as if the accident had never happened; and he rode on within the hour. This was perhaps some of the curious water, of which it is said, Dialog. i. 5. that it burnt as well as oil. For once when there was a want of oil, the lamps in the Church were filled with it, atque ex more in medio pa pyrum posuit (famulus), quas allato igne succendit, sicque aqua arsit in lampadibus, acsi oleum fuisset. Leastwise it is unquestionably as true, as what is related, cap. 2. concerning the virtue of a buskin or spatterdash, which the libertinus of St. Honoratus used always to carry about with him in his bosom. It happened