at myself for having detected it; my enthusiastic admiration of its beauties ought never to have so far subsided, as to have allowed me to read but, as it were, with dazzled eyes, for true poetry should not only be written, but read, with a " furor mentis,"―with the "eyes in a fine phrenzy rolling," and with the mind-" filled with fury, rapt, inspired," and who, in such a state, can stop to cavil at any petty fault? Johnson, in speaking of Dryden's celebrated "Ode to St. Cecilia," says-" some of the lines are without correspondent rhymes, a defect which I never detected but after an acquaintance of many years, and which the enthusiasm of the writer might hinder him from perceiving." This might also have been the case with Thomson :— the passage to which I allude is the following: "He saw her charming, but he saw not half The charms her downcast modesty concealed." This, to me, savours very much of an Hibernicism that "he saw her charming," is very well, -but that "he saw not half" the charms her downcast modesty concealed," implies evidently that he did see a part of them;-but how could he see that which was concealed? Here is certainly a contradiction in terms. The meaning, however, is obvious, and though there is a slight confusion in the expressing it, yet, as Cowley says, ""Tis so like sense 'twill serve the turn as well." ZOILUS. SINGULAR MODE OF TAKING BEES' NESTS. SIR, I lately witnessed an operation of this kind, which appeared to me so extraordinary, that I have thought the communication of it might not prove unwelcome to you. A large swarm of bees had fixed their abode on the ceiling of a verandha, and, in due time, when their honey was deposited, we wished to collect it, but were for some time at a loss for means. Hearing, however, that there was a gardener, who possessed a peculiar art of doing it unhurt, he was sent for, and desired to bring down the honey. I watched him closely through the whole process, and was told by him, and believe, that he used no other precaution than the following. He took some of the plant called toolsy, and rubbed it over his body, face, arms, and hands, he then chewed a little, and held a sprig of it in his mouth. With no other than this, apparently slight, defence, he mounted a ladder, a large dish in one hand, and a sharp knife in the other; and though as thinly clad as his class usually are, with thousands of bees swarming about his naked body,-he, with the greatest sang froid, cut immediately through the upper part of the comb, where it was suspended to the roof, and receiving the whole of it in his dish, brought it down, without having suffered from a single sting!! This appeared to me so singular and novel a manner of proceeding, that, I assure you, had I been the sole spectator, I should have hesitated to have written it to you, but two other gentlemen of this station were also witnesses of the fact, and will confirm my statement, if necessary, by their testimony. I know not how to account for this phenomenon, though, if experiment prove it to be constant, it cannot but be ascribed, I should think, to the bees being deceived by the strong odour of the plant, and, misled by instinct, deeming it useless to attack with their stings what they suppose to be a vegetable. The courage displayed by the man, though it may aid, is surely of itself not sufficient to produce this effect; for the stings of bees have never been considered as of a similar nature with those of nettles, of which latter it is said—"grasp them like a man of mettle, and they soft as silk remain." But, whatever may be the cause, if such shall always be found to be the result, it is a process which ought to be known and practised in Europe. The present mode of taking hives, by destroying all the bees with smoke, is certainly both cruel and ungrateful, and every owner of an apiary would rejoice at being enabled to spare the lives of his useful and highly-valued insects. On the score of profit, too, he would be glad to adopt such an innocent measure, for then, instead of losing them entirely, as he at present does, at every gathering of the honey, he might, with the greatest ease, again swarm them, and place them in new hives, there to recommence their operations. The plant which I have above mentioned, is the black ocymum of botanists. Its aromatic odour is, perhaps, the strongest there is. I know that some of the species of this genus are cultivated with success in England; this, therefore, might be, in all probability, if it is not so already. Sir William Jones addresses it in one of his poems-" Hail! sacred toolsy, pride of plains!" This epithet he has given to it from its particular prevalent use in the Brahminical rites; indeed, the extraordinary sanctity attached to it, is evinced, by its forming, with Ganges' water, the basis of the Hindoos' most solemn oath :-his mode of swearing is the touching these. The legend respecting it in the Sanscrit records is, that it was once a most beautiful nymph of the same name, passionately beloved by Chrisna, who, to perpetuate her memory, transformed her into this plant, and ordained that no worship to him should be availing or complete, which was not graced by her presence; hence it is invariably used in all Poojahs made by the followers of Vishnu. On such a metamorphosis, with the circumstance added of the bees still paying so deep a respect to her charms, how elegant an Ovidian tale might be formed! A GATHERER. MOONLIGHT THOUGHTS. How oft, as I've roved by the moon's trembling light, When slumber'd all Nature around, Have I thought of those joys with a chasten'd delight, Which I felt on a far-distant ground. First the form of my mother arose in my mind,— And casting a look of repentance behind, Next my sisters, my brother, each friend I hold dear, In turn hath oppress'd me with woe,— Ah! little once deem'd I that ever a tear Yet not long on my mind has this gloominess prey'd, Kind fancy has come to afford me her aid, |