perience may prompt as to the best means of engrafting a scheme like this upon the Freehold land Societies. HEROIC HUMANITY. AFTER the reduction of Franche-Courte in 1668, Louis XIV. came to St. Germaine, to enjoy the fruit of his labours. He was accompanied by the illustrious warriors who had shared the glory of this expedition. The duke de Montausier shone distinguished amongst those heroes; and all the court, either from true esteem, or to please their sovereign, were eager to celebrate the praises of the duke. Far from being dazzled with such eulogiums, Montausier thought only how to deserve new ones; and he soon merited them, by exposing himself to a different sort of peril, demanding not less intrepidity and elevation of soul, than the danger of sieges and battles. It was reported that the plague was then raging with destructive fury, in every quarter of the city of Rouen. More attentive to the interests of the city than any other person; the duke was officially informed of its situation, when he resolved to fly to its relief. Every one represented to him that it was a proof of rashness rather than judgment, to expose himself, thus uselessly, to danger. Alarmed at his resolution, but not daring to attack it openly, his duchess gave way to the terrors which agitated her heart, and by the silent eloquence of sighs and tears, sought to turn him from his purpose, but the duke was not to be seduced from his duty, even by tenderness. He was more touched by her heroic example in a similar situation, than by the tears she now shed; he loved rather to imitate her virtue, than to yield to her weakness. It so happened that this illustrious woman, when in the bloom of youth and beauty, singly enclosed herself in a house where her young brother and all his servants were dying of the plague. She allowed no other person to share her danger, but continued to attend the sufferers until most of them died, and the remainder were given to her pious cares. Amongst the former, alas! was her brother. To this heroic tenderness she owed the heart of Montausier; until then he had heard of the beautiful Julie, marchioness de Roubouillet, without emotion; but from the moment in which he listened to the narrative of her virtuous courage, love united with admiration, and he hastened to behold and win her. Notwithstanding the entreaties of his wife, the duke departed for Rouen; and shutting himself up in that unfortunate city, he applied all his powers to succour those whom the plague had already seized, and to preserve those who were yet untainted. By degrees the fury of the pestilence declined; several persons who had been attacked by it, were saved as if by miracle. In less than two months the contagion was entirely stopped, the air was perfectly purified, and a whole people acknowledged, with lively gratitude, that their salvation was owing to the zeal and the intrepidity of their governor. From that memorable period the duke de Montausier was regarded by the inhabitants of Rouen as the father of the province. The memory of his virtues will endure as long as that city continues to remember the dreadful scourge which called. it into action. NO CLOUD-NO RAIN. If the glorious sunshine Never upon tree or flower Earth would be a barren waste, If the dark-winged cloud should never Human hearts are like the earth ;- Love's own sweetest spirit-flowers E. WEIGHT OF THE HUMAN BODY.-M. Chaussir dried a human body in an oven, the original weight of which was 120 lbs. ; when dry, it was reduced to 12 lbs. Hence the solid matter of the body was to water, From this as one to nine, or one-tenth. it will be seen how great a proportion the fluids of the body bear to the solids. VERSATILITY OF GENIUS.-THE STUDY OF CREATION. VERSATILITY OF GENIUS. FARABIUS, a Turkish philosopher, one of the most celebrated of his sect, was a native of Farab and Offrar: he was the Coryphyæus of philosophers of his day, and one whom Avicenna acknowledged had exhausted all the sciences. He died in the year of the Hegira 343, on his return from Mecca to Syria, where he had made a pilgrimage. Seifed Doulat reigning, he came to the court of this prince at a time when the latter was present at a celebrated dispute, and being unknown to any person, Farabius, on his first coming in, stood up 'till the sultan desired him to be seated: then asking where he should take his place, the former answered where he found it most convenient. Farabius, without ceremony, seated himself next the prince upon a sopha; when the sultan, surprised at his rudeness, spoke to one of his officers in his vernacular tongue, saying, "Since this Turk is so indiscreet, go and reprimand him, and make him quit the place he has taken." Farabius, hearing this, said to the sultan, softly, "Seigneur, he who gives orders rashly, is subject to repentance:" the prince, still more surprised at hearing this observation, said, "Do you understand my language? To which Farabius answered, "Yes, and many others also:" and immediately entering into a dispute with the doctors then present, soon silenced them all, compelling them to hear him, and receive information of things of which they were ignorant. THE STUDY OF CREATION. BY J. P. WRIGHT. No. II. 83 ANOTHER remarkable characteristic of creation is vastness. Among trees, the cedars of Lebanon have long been famous for size. But the withering breath of time is reducing their number. Early travellers counted from thirty to forty, afterwards seventeen, then twelve, and when Lamartine visited Palestine he noted only seven. Maundrel measured one of these celebrated relics of antiquity, and found it twelve yards six inches in girt, and thirty-seven yards in the spread of its boughs. But the most extraordinary is the Banian tree of India. There is one close to the river Narbudda, in the province of Guzzerat. Large portions of it have been destroyed by rushing floods, but it is still of amazing magnitude. Around the largest stems, it measures nearly two thousand feet. Its main trunks number three hundred and fifty, and its small ones more than three thousand. It is, also, constantly enlarging by its branches hanging down, sending out roots, and forming fresh stems, whose young boughs are covered with rich foliage. Caverns.-The Peak in Derbyshire is nearly half a mile long, and at its lowest part, six hundred feet deep. In the island of Atiu, the lamented Williams explored a splendid cave to the distance of a mile, but could not discover the end of its windings. Fredericshall, in Norway, is eleven thousand feet in depth. Nichojack, in Georgia, is fifty feet high, one hundred wide, and three miles in length. Mammoth, in Kentucky, extends from nine to ten miles. Mountains.--Ben Nevis, in Scotland, is more than three thousand feet above the level of the sea. Sinai, in Arabia, rises nearly nine thousand. The Peak of Teneriffe is twelve thousand. Mount Blanc, in the Alps, is fifteen thousand eight hundred. Sorata, the highest in the Andes, is twentyfive thousand. And the loftiest in the The dispute being ended, the prince did Farabius much honour, and retained him near him, while the musicians began to sing. Farabius joined in concert, and accompanying them with a lute which he had in his hand, excited the admiration of the sultan to such a degree, that he asked him if he had not some music of his own composition. Taking some music from his pocket without any hesitation, he distributed it among the singers, and continued to accompany them with his lute, until the whole assembly got into such a gay humour, that they all laughed most heartily. After playing another of his pieces he made them all weep, and lastly chang-length ing his melody and measure, he threw them all into an agreeable slumber. The prince wished in vain to retain Farabius during life. A considerable time after quitting the court of Syria, he was attacked by robbers, and whilst valiantly defending himself, was struck by an arrow, of which he died on the spot. Himalaya range reaches the sublime altitude of twenty-nine thousand. The Desert.-Sahara, in Africa, is the largest desert in the world. Its extreme about three thousand miles, and its breadth is nearly one thousand. It covers a superficial extent of one million The name, however, is generally used to eight hundred thousand squares miles. denominate the main body of the desert, which is two thousand miles long. The moving sands of this desolate region, when driven before the wind, are very terrific in appearance; and not uncommonly over whelm large caravans of camels and merchants. The Ocean. That immense body of water, which fills up the spaces between the several portions of the earth, is calculated to be three times more extensive than the land; and to comprise a surface of one hundred and forty-eight millions of square miles. What a wilderness of waves is the broad and fathomless deep! Who has not felt impressions of majesty and might, infinitude and eternity, at the sight and sound of its resistless swellings? Celestial Orbs.-The magnitude of most of these moving masses is prodigious. The diameter of the planet Saturn is about seventy-eight thousand miles, and that of his outer ring more than two hundred and four thousand. The Sun is nearly eight hundred and eighty thousand miles in diameter. It contains a quantity of matter, equal to thirteen hundred thousand globes as large as the Earth. The Comet of 1811 was calculated, by Dr. Herschel, to be one hundred and twenty-seven thousand miles in diameter, and the length of its tail to be upwards of one hundred millions. Sirius, the nearest of the fixed stars, is conjectured to be no less in diameter than the amazing extent of ninety-five millions of miles. Space.-Mercury, though nearer to the Sun than any other planet, describes his orbit round that splendid luminary at the immense distance of nearly thirty-seven millions of miles. Herschel, the most distant makes the magnificent sweep of his periodic revolution at the astonishing remoteness of one thousand eight hundred millions of miles. To form an adequate idea of this fact, a centre should be pictured whose outer-most circle marks a similar expansion. The eccentric orbits of the comets, when at their aphelion, are still more remote. Newton supposed that the comet of 1680, when farthest off, had rolled away from the sun no less than eleven thousand millions of miles. The fixed stars are so distant as to defy all our powers of calculation. When viewed with telescopes that magnify six thousand times, they do not increase in size. Yet they are almost innumerable. If every one of these stars, as is generally believed by astronomers, is like our sun, the centre of a system of spheres that roll around it,and if, as conjectured by Halley, all these systems are but parts of one grand immeasurable system, revolving round some unknown centre, imagination itself is mastered by the immensity of the universe. How stupendous and marvellous are these developments of material majesty! They rise too high for man to reach, they sweep too wide for man to grasp. Many of them not only exhaust physical strength, but, also, tower above the flight, and tire, the energies of the most vigorous eagle-winged intellect. The temples and pyramids of human workmanship, at which travellers look with admiration, wonder, and awe, dwindle into utter insignificance into tiny trifles of vanity, when contrasted with the gigantic monuments of power and grandeur which stand out in bold relief and meet the astonished vision of humanity, as it ranges over the immense and massive amphitheatre of creation, Creation presents a singular contrast to its vastness, in its minuteness. The solid earth on which we dwell, is composed of exceedingly diminutive atoms. A controversy has long existed amongst philosophers, on the question of the infinite divisibility of these atoms. Some assert that they may be divided without end. Others attest with equal confidence that they cannot be divided at all. The discoveries of modern chemistry appear favourable to the latter opinion. Apart from this disputed point, one fact is certain, and fraught with interest. The tiniest atom has all the essential properties of the great globe itself; namely, gravitation, affinity, repulsion, and attraction. Dalton, the celebrated chemist, entertains the opinion that atoms are spherical, and he has invented symbolic representations of the manner in which they are combined. The vast ocean, also, is made up of small globules. Every one of these globules is a world in minutia. Thus, in a solitary drop of water sparkling in the sunbeam, we have a most interesting emblem of a shining sphere in the depths of space. But these are mere specimens of the wonders brought to light by the microscope. That instrument makes us as extensively acquainted with the minute, as the telescope does with the vast. A single microscope is a lens of any transparent substance, placed between the object intended to be magnified, and the naked eye, Plate glass is generally employed in its construction. Any person, however, may easily construct one, by boring a small circular hole in a flat piece of metal, and filling it with water. The water thus suspended will take the form of a sphere, and possess a magnifying power. It is even expected that the scientific experiments of Sir David Brewster, will issue in the formation of fluid lenses equal to the best of any other description. The compound microscopes in general use, are called Doublets and Triplets. A Doublet whose focus is one thirtieth of an inch, magnifies a tiny object to an extent as large as would be exhibited to the unassisted vision, by THE STUDY OF CREATION. DEMAGOGUES. the blending into one of twenty-seven millions of such objects. Before the invention of the microscope, the mite was considered the smallest of animated beings; but by the use of this valuable instrument, living forms have been discovered, in comparison with which the mite may be pronounced of gigantic dimensions. Every one of these indescribably diminutive creatures is per fectly organized. The amazing number of fourteen thousand mirrors, have been counted in the eye of an insect. A single drop of stagnant water contains myriads of animalcula. There are veins in the human body through which the blood rolls, that are less than the finest hair. The pores of the skin from which the perspiration oozes are so small, that one hundred and twenty-five thousand would be covered by a grain of sand. A spider's thread consists of the union of more than four thousand finer threads. Spiders no larger than a grain of sand spin a thread so thin, that thousands must be conjoined to equal a hair in thickness. The motion of the fluids in a gnat is discernible. The eyes, mouth, and even the number of the teeth of an animalcule have been clearly traced. The hair of a mouse is covered with dark transverse stripes. The hair of a bat often presents the appearance of a screw, with striped marks upon it. The hair of a bee is like a jointed bamboo cane, and from the joints project a number of delicate spikes. One of the most beautiful microscopic objects is found in the wing case of the diamond beetle. Its appearance may be fitly compared to the ancient Jewish breastplate. Numerous cavaties cover the surface, filled with a multitude of tiny scales, which flash and glow with lights and hues, that dim the lustre of the richest jewelry. The trunk of a bee is similar to the trunk of an elephant in the parallel rings, by which it is contracted or extended in the collection of honey. A snow flake presents innumerable complicate figures of a most wonderful description. Some animalcula are round, others are oval, others are like fruit, others like serpents, and others are moulded into all sorts of grotesque shapes. The wings of a silk worm moth are covered with particles of dust which are so many perfect feathers, in such variety, that on the examination of more than a hundred, every one was found of a different shape from the others. How singularly interesting are these novel realities! What a beautiful and joyous surprise steals over the intellect, when they first arrest its attention, and pass under its observation! Above the head, in the heights of the firmament, countless worlds, enormous beyond all calculation, are ever rolling. 85 Beneath our eye, in the hollow of the hand, myriad worlds are seen, minute beyond description, and known to be the habitations of life with its varied instincts and satisfactions. Such a contrast is startling, amazing, overwhelming, yet it is as easily discoverable as any contrast with which we are acquainted, and it finds as firm a lodgement in the faith of the understanding, as does the fact of our own existence. (To be continued.) DEMAGOGUES. BY ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE. DEMAGOGUES are the courtiers of the people, when the people is sovereign. They lead it astray that they may profit by its vices and its crimes. They intoxicate it to precipitate it into every species of excess. They magnify its hatreds, its miseries, its ambition, so as to lead it to tyrannize over all other classes of citizens. They excite it to conspiracies and violence against its own government, the very next day after the occurrence of a revolution which has conferred upon it legal liberty, and possible equality. They arm it against its representatives, its constitution, against universal suff age, against the citizens, against industry, against commerce, against property, against the family, against society, against itself, against all that which constitutes the the remuneration, the welfare, and the labour, the production, the consumption, life of a people. They advise it to commit suicide. They supply it with arms, that it may put an end to its existence with its own hands! Such are the courtiers of the multitude. Worse, if possible, than the courtiers of kings. For the latter, at least, pervert only one man, while the former strive to pervert a whole nation! Yes, your clubs, if they be not radically reformed, will make us regret the loss of courts. For the courts of kings are thirsty only after gold, but these courts of the people are thirsty after blood! These demagogues have been the Scourge of the people at all times and in all places. They caused the destruction of Athens. They effected the fall of Rome. They brought about the downfal of the first French Republic in 1793. They attacked the second on the very next day after its establishment, and have since renewed their attempt five times in fifteen months. And finally, they almost succeeded in overthrowing, a year after its foundation, that magnificent American Republic, which is the example and the admiration of the world at the present day. Scarcely had Washington, its virtuous founder, conquered the independence of his country, and convoked the Congress, the sovereign National Assembly of the United States, before demagogues, organizing everywhere clubs similar to our own, began, as here, to gather the people together; to excite it against the true and only sovereignty, the Congress; to calumniate the great citizens, to accuse of treason that very Washington who had just built up, with his moderate fortune and with his generous blood, the liberty of the Republic; to proscribe him, to dishonour him, to inflict on him a species of moral banishment from public affairs, to fill his place with a pack of unruly soldiers, street agitators, and Boston bankrupts, the scum of Europe cast by public contempt on the shores of the Atlantic. "My friend," then wrote Washington, the friend of Lafayette, to one of his companions in arms: "I shed tears of blood for the future of my country, if the wisdom of the American people does not succeed in withdrawing it from the influence of such men. Demagogues are harder for us to conquer than the English: they compromise all that we have done; they set up a government of permanent agitation, and demagogic societies in the face of the National Congress. Imperium in imperio. And what an empire! The empire of the most audacious, of the most impudent, and of the most perverse. If America permits this anarchy, if the Congress does not curb the clubs, it is all over with the Republic!" America, after a year of agitation and folly, which did, in fact, compromise her independence, had the wisdom to curb and even to interdict the clubs. And when once the demagogues were conquered, she became the greatest and the most solid of democracies. Beware, then, of demagogues! If you listen to their counsels, you will speedily have to weep over the downfal of your liberty and your country! THE LEVER OF LIFE. CHAPTER III. MANY were the prognostications, whilst he was at school, that George Angus would turn out a keen man of business. He was the best hand at figures in his class, and would at any time rather work out a whole page of Walkingame, than construe a single line of Virgil. His school-fellows nick-named him the pedlar; for he was always dabbling in small ventures of toffee, gingerbread, and marbles, which he retailed to his less provident companions, at profits, which he adopted, with rare cunning, to the risks which he ran of payment on the following Saturday. His bargains at the village shop, drove the old dame, who kept it, very nearly to distraction. The rigour with which he exacted the turn of the scale, and the odd one over. The way in which he talked about the allowance on wholesale orders, and his reference to discounts and cash payments, put her, as she said, "in a perfect warrill," every time he came into her shop; and yet he had such a good tempered cannie way with him, and always paid, as he said, ready money for everything, that though she feared, she at the same time could not help liking her best but most troublesome customer. George inherited this intense appreciation of a bargain from his father, a snug mercer in a small country town in Scotland, who was well known by all the commercial travellers on the road as their shrewdest customer north of the Tweed. Every one sought the Baillie's custom, for he was known to be a safe man, and dealt largely, but the settlement of an account was an affair which invariably put the keenest faculties on each side to the test. The following story was narrated with great zest in the commercial room as an instance of the Baillie's sharp witted skill in getting the advantage of a southern dealer. A traveller having called and presented his account, which was rather a heavy one, it was closely scrutinized by the wily Scotchman, and after every possible allowance and deduction had |