THE EAGLE TURNED RESTAURATEUR.-"A tradition prevails, that when O'Sullivan was quitting his retreat in Glengarriff, he consigned the care of his wife and children to a faithful gossip named Gorrane M'Swiney, who had a hut at the foot of the Eagle's precipice which was so constructed as to elude the vigilance of the English scouts who day and night prowled about these mountains. A single salted salmon was all the provision which M'Swiney had for his honoured charge when they en tered his hut but, his ingenuity is said to have devised extraordinary means for their future sustenance. Having perceived an eagle flying to her nest with a hare in her talons, he conceived a plan for supporting the family of his chief with the food intended for the young eaglets. He accordingly on the following morning accompanied by his son, a boy about fourteen years old ascended the mountains, on the summit of which they took post, till they saw the old eagles fly off in pursuit of prey. The elder M'Swiney then tied a rope, made of the fibres of bog fir, round the waist and between the legs of his son, and lowered him down to the nest, where the youth tightened the necks of the young eaglets with straps which he had provided for the purpose, that they might swallow their food with difficulty. This being accomplished, he was safely drawn up, and the father and son kept their station on the top of the precipice, till they witnessed the return of the eagles-one with a rabit, and the other with a grouse, in its talons. After they had again flown off, young M'Swi. ney descended a second time, and brought up the game, after having first gutted it, and left the entrails for the young eaglets. In this manner, we are informed, was the family of O'Sullivan supported, by their faithful guardian, during the period of their seclusion in this desolate part of the country."-Stories from the History of Ireland.

ATMOSPHERICAL APPEARANCES.-As the atmosphere extends upwards, its density becomes gradually less and less, and of course its power of reflecting the sun's raise in like proportion diminishes, till at last at the extrêmest verge where it terminates, there is no reflection at all-a total darkness. The extreme strata then being most rarified, has the least power of reflecting the rays of light; and the light thus reflected is of a bluish tint, or consists principally of the blue rays. In this manner, a dark brown mountain, whose surface has small reflective capabilities, when seen at a distance has a deep blue appearance, exactly similar to the atmosphere. It cannot be the medium of the air though which it is seen that renders it of this colour; for if part of the mountain be covered with snow, which has strong reflective powers, this snow is still seen of a pure white colour. It has been ascertained too, that the atmosphere, when seen from the top of a very high mountain, has a deep blue tint, approaching to black, and this tint becomes deeper the higher up you ascend. It may be observed also, that the centre of the atmosphere, looking perpendicularly upwards, always appears of a deep blue colour, which gradually passes to a whiter appearance towards the extreme verge of the horizon, or in the lower strata next the earth. Here most dense air is accumulated, and here the reflection is most perfect, or nearest approaching to white light; whereas, perpendicularly overhead, the rays of light pass through less of this air, the reflection is fainter, and hence the deep blue colour."-Rhind's Studies.

THE KING'S COCK CROWER.-Among the customs which formerly prevailed in England during the season of Lent, was the following:-An officer denominated the King's Cock Crower, crowed the hour each night within the precincts of the palace, instead of proclaiming it in the manner of the late watchmen. This absurd eeremony did not fall into disuse till the reign of George I.

RUSSIAN POLICE.-The French Minister, during the reign of Alexander, was robbed of a snuff box of very considerable value; and, like a prudent man, he men. tioned the circumstance to the Emperor, binting his fears that he should not easily recover it. It is well known that he publicly spoke of the lax state of the Russian police, comparing it with the French. The Emperor spoke to the chief of the police; and a few weeks after the robbery, a nobleman, holding a high situation in the police, called on the Ambassador, and remarked how erroneous His Excellency was in his opinion, saying, Here is your snuff box." "I am very glad to see it again," said His Excellency, " and I shall trouble you to return it to me.' said the police-officer, we have a number of forms to go through before this can be returned;" in short, such a number that the Ambassador never got it back again. -From Anecdotes of Russia, in the New Monthly Magazine.

"No,"

THE EYE AND THE CAMERA OBSCURA.' The nature of the eye as a camera obscura is beautifully exhibited by taking the eye of a recently killed bullock, and after carefully cutting away or thinning the outer coat of it behind, by going with it to a dark place and directing pupil towards any brightly-illuminated objects; then, through the semi-transparent retina left at the back of the eye may be seen a minute but perfect picture of all such objects-a picture, therefore, formed on the back of the little apartment or camera obscura, by the agency of the convex cornea and lens in front.' Understanding from all this, that when a man is engaged in what is called looking at an object, his mind is in truth only taking cognizance of the picture or impression made on his retina, it excites admiration in us to think of the exquisite delicacy of texture and of sensibility which the retina must possess, that there may be the perfect perception which really occurs of even the separate parts of the minute images there formed. A whole printed sheet of newspaper, for instance, may be represented on retina on less surface than that of a fingernail, and yet not only shall every word and letter be separately perceivable, but even any imperfection of a single letter. Or, more wonderful still, when at night an eye is turned up to the blue vault of heaven, there is pourtrayed on the little concave of the retina the boundless concave of the sky, with every object in its just proportions. There a moon in beautiful miniature may be sailing among her white-edged clouds, and surrounded by thousand twinkling stars, so that to an animalcule supposed to be within and near the pupil, the retina might appear another starry firma. ment with all its glory. If the images in the human eye be thus minute, what must they be in the little eye of a canary-bird, or of another animal smaller still? How wonderful are the works of nature ?'-Arnot's Elements.

POETRY. It has always been our opinion, that the very essence of poetry, apart from the pathos, the wit, or the brilliant description which may be embodied in it but may exist equally in prose, consists in the fine perception and vivid expression of that subtle and mysterious analogy which exists between the physical and the moral world-which makes outwards things and qualities the natural types and emblems of inward gifts and emotions, and leads us to ascribe life and sentiment to every thing that interests us in the aspects of external nature. The feeling of this analogy, obscure and inexplicable as the theory of it may be, is so deep and universal in our nature, that it has stamped itself on the ordinary language of men of every kindred and speech; and that to such an extend, that one half of the epithets by which we familiary designate moral and physical qualities, are in reality so many metaphors, borrowed reciprocally, upon this analogy, from those opposite forms of existence. The very familiarity, however, of the expression, in these instances, takes away its poetical effect and indeed, in substance, its metaphorical character. The original sense of the word is entirely forgotten in the derivative one to which it has succeeded; and it requries some etymological recollection to convince us that it was originally nothing else than a typical or analogical illustration. Thus we talk of a penetrating understanding, and a furious blast-a weighty argument, and a gentle stream-without being at all aware that we are speaking in the language of poetry, and transferring qualities from one extremity of the sphere of being to another. In these cases, accordingly, the metaphor, by ceasing to be felt in reality ceases to exist, and the analogy being no longer intimated, of course can produce no effect. But whenever it is intimated, it does produce an effect; and that effect we think is poetry.-Edin. Review.

ALLIANCE BETWEEN PHILOSOPHY AND CHRISTIANITY.-There is no war between Christianity and philosophy. Pure and undefiled Christianity is sound philosophy. If there ever has been war, it has been against the temporal abuses which pretences of religion were brought forward to protect. This was at the bottom of the outcry made against philosophy during the French Revolution. The real struggle was against arbitrary power sheltering itself under the influence of religious establishments. Religion was assailed because it was made an engine in the hands of the common enemy; the animosity was against the enemy, not against the abstract instrument that was in his hands. Those times are past. It is all too late now, to get up a religious opposition to the exercise of reason on any subject connected with the welfare of mankind.-Westminster Review, No. xxiii.

LOCKE. It is hard to say, whether mankind are more indebted to this illustrious person as a philosopher, or as a politician. The publication of his great work undoubtedly fixed an era in the history of science : But his writings, and his personal exertions in favour of liberty, and more especially of religious Toleration, may be truly said to have had a greater effect than can be ascribed to the efforts of any other individual who bore a part in the transactions of that important period. The true doctrines of Toleration were first promulgated by him, and in their fullest extent; for he maintained the whole stretch of the principle, that opinion is not a matter cognizable by the civil magistrate, and that belief, being the result of reason is wholly independent of the will, and neither the subject of praise nor of blame, far less the object of punishment or of reward. That intolerance had ceased at the Reformation-that the Protestant Church had put an end to persecution-is an error only of the most ignorant and superficial. The influence of the Reformation had, no doubt, been salutary in this as in other respects; but persecution had been mitigated by very slow degrees; and in its early stages, the reformed church was to the full as intolerant, and nearly as persecuting, as the hierarchy which it had supplanted, Witness the numerous executions of Catholics, and even of Protestant Dissenters, in the reign of Elizabeth, accompanied not unfrequently by the most cruel tortures. At a late period, the Episcopalian church in Scot land even surpassed the cruelties of the older times; and the intolerance of the Presbyterians during the whole of the seventeenth century, is too well known to require any particular reference. It is from the era of the Revolution that we must date the establishment of that Toleration which the Reformation had in no respect secured; and of which the Independents themselves had only made a beginning, great as were their services to the cause of liberty. It has been reserved for our own times to carry the principles of Locke to their full extent, and to supply those deficiencies in the plan of religious freedom which he and his worthy coadjutors were unfortunately obliged to leave in their grand work.Edn. Review.

MRS. HEMANS. We think the poetry of Mrs. Hemans a fine exemplification of Female Poetry-and we think it has much of the perfection which we have ventured to ascribe to the happier productions of female genius. It may not be the best imaginable poetry, and may not indicate the very highest or most commanding genius; but it embraces a great deal of that which gives the very best poetry its chief power of pleasing; and would strike us, perhaps, as more impassioned and exalted, if it were not regulated and harmonized by the most beautiful taste. It is infinitely sweet, elegant, and tender-touching, perhaps, and contemplative, rather than vehement and overpowering; and not only finished throughout with an exquisite delicacy, and even serenity of execution, but informed with a purity and loftiness of feeling, and a certain sober and humble tone of indulgence and piety, which must satisfy all judgments, and allay the apprehensions of those who are most afraid of the passionate exaggerations of poetry. The diction is always beautiful, harmonius, and free-and the themes, though of infinite variety, uniformly treated with a grace, originality and judgment, which mark the same mas ter hand. These themes she has borrowed, with the peculiar interest and imagery that belong to them, from the legends of different nations, and the most opposite states of society; and has contrived to retain much of what is interesting and peculiar in each of them, without adopting along with it, any of the revolting or extravagant excesses which may characterise the taste or manners of the people or the age from which it has been derived. She has thus transfused into her German or Scandinavian legends the imaginative and daring tone of the originals, without the mystical exaggerations of the one, or the painful fierceness and coarseness of the other she has preserved the clearness and elegance of the French, without their coldness or affectation-and the tenderness and simplicity of the early Italians, without their diffuseness or languor. Though occasionally expatiating, somewhat fondly and at large, amongst the sweets of her own planting, their is, on the whole, a great condensation and brevity in most of her pieces, aud, almost without exception, a most judicious and vigorous conclusion. The great merit, however, of her poetry, is undoubtedly in its tenderness and its beautiful imagery. Edin. Review.

KEAN AS HE WAS AND AS HE IS.- -The world knows pretty well, by this time, what kind of actor Kean is. He is one whom Nature, in her mercy, threw upon the stage, to redeem it from the stiff frigidity of tight-laced art. She bestowed upon him strong passions and acute feelings, and she desired him to give them free and spontaneous scope. The actor caught her meaning, for the understanding of it was inherent in him; and taking to himself plenty of elbow-room, he knocked at the heart of his audience boldly and at once, and if the door was not willingly opened to him, he threw himself against it with all his weight, and forced it. Some there were who said, there was no grace, no study, no refinement in his style,—that it was coarse and vulgar, and against all rules; but he dashed on, regardless of their prating, and he carried mankind along with him in spite of themselves. The old sober spectacled critics looked at him as they would have done at Joshua command. ing the sun and moon to stand still, shook their heads, confessed they did not understand him, and so went home to bed. But he held the theatre breathless, or stirred it into thunder, as he chose; and, therefore, there was in him the invisible fire, the existence of which men know and feel, though they cannot describe or catch it. Let all his faults be granted, for they cannot be concealed;—he was a shabby little creature, with a harsh voice, and uninteresting features,-at times he ranted, and at other times he was too tame, he had some tricks too, to catch the gallery, he had none of the patrician dignity of Kemble, none of the gentlemanly ease of Young; - let all this be granted,-so much the better for Kean,-for we should like to know what it was, after all, that so many thousands of people squeezed their sides out to see? Was it not this one small man because he had acquired a mastery over their souls? and what more can be said of the mightiest minds that ever lived? But Kean (though he is still the best actor we have) has fallen off; and when we say so, we mean ourselves to be understood in the fullest acceptation of the term, without making any ridiculous distinction between physical strength and mental power. The two are inseparably conjoined. If a man's body grow weak, his mind, to all intents and purposes, grows weak also. Sickness and dissipation have made terrible havoo with Kean; and the consequence is, that his whole manner is now tamed down, and that half his wonted fire is extinct. His style is far more pompous and elocutionary than it used to be; and this is an alternative which debility has forced upon him. He now months and journeys slowly through many passages, to which in his better days, he would have given all the force of nervous and rapid utterance. Let nobody suppose that this is a voluntary change, because time has chastened his judgment. Judgment was never Kean's forte; but when his blood dashed strongly through his veins, he yielded to the quick impulses of the moment, and these impulses were true to nature. But now they come more rarely, and are feebler when they do come. He has not so much blood as he once had, and a great deal of Kean's best acting lay in his blood. He is like a good race-horse somewhat stricken in years; he walks over a course which he has often galloped round, a hundred yards a-head of all competi. tors; yet now and then he starts off into his old pace, and the common spectator ignorantly imagines he is as able to win the cup as before.-Lit. Journal.

RELIGIOUS ENTHUSIASM. A strong and firm persuasion of any proposition relat. ing to religion, for which a man hath either no or not sufficient proofs from reason, but receives them as truths wrought in the mind extraordinarily by influence coming im mediately from God himself, seems to me to be the enthusiasm; which can be no evidence or ground of assurance at all, nor can by any means be taken for knowledge. If such groundless thoughts as these, concerning ordinary matters, and not religion, possess the mind strongly, we call it raving, and every one thinks it a degree of madness; but in religion, men, accustomed to the thoughts of revelation, make a greater allowance to it, though indeed it be a more dangerous madness: But men are apt to to think in religion they may, and ought to quit their reason. I find that the Christians, Mahometans, and Brahmins, all pretend to this immediate inspiration; but it is certain that contradictions and falsehoods cannot come from God; nor can any one that is of the true religion, be assured of any thing by a way whereof those of a false religion may be, and are equally confirmed in theirs. For the Turkish dervishes pretend to revelations, ecstasies, visions, raptures, to be transported with illumination of God. v. Ricaut. The Jaugis, amongst the Hindoos, talk of being illuminated, and entirely united to God, v. Bernier, as well as the most spiritualized Christians.'—Edin, Review,

ASIATIC SOCIETY.

P Professor Rafn's communication, it appears that the attention of Northern Antiquarians has been, of late years, particularly turned towards Scandinavian and Icelandic history and literature-and that, by old Manuscripts, the fact of the Inhabitants of the North of Europe having, long before Columbus' time, (as early as the eleventh century) visited America-at least its Northern countries and coasts-is placed beyond a doubt. The accounts of the old Scandinavian voyages of discovery to North America, he adds, have lately gained fresh confirmation from a stone with a Runic inscription found in 1824, on the Island Kingiktorsoak, 732 N. L, on the West coast of Greenland.

The account of Dr. Richardson's visit to Laos, given in Major Burney's Letter, is a mere outline, derived from conversation with that gentleman, but which, in the absence of the more detailed report he was preparing, is very interesting. About six months ago, a Laos Chief sent a party of men to Moulmein, with a letter to Mr. Maingy, the Civil Commissioner, inviting him to send a British Officer up to Laos, and Mr. Maingy availed himself of such a fitting opportunity for obtaining some information respecting that country, by sending Dr. Richardson (a person apparently excellently qualified for the task) on a Mission to the place.

Accordingly, Dr. Richardson proceeded up the Saluen River for four days, and then travelled in an E. N. E. direction. He was altogether forty-four days on his journey, but of these he was in motion twenty-seven days only, and he was absent altogether about three months. The Laos men whom he accompanied, frankly told him that they could not think of taking him by the easy and direct route to their country, as he might hereafter guide an English army to them, and that for this reason they thought it right to move like an Elephant over a difficult road, to feel with the trunk first-and ascertain that it will be safe to move the body forward." Upon arriving at the residence of the Laos Chief, Dr. Richardson immediately discovered, that the invitation sent to Mr. Maingy was intended only as an empty compliment, the Chief acting upon the implicit belief that no English Officer could, or would be able to undertake and get through the journey. The arrival of the Kula Phyoo, or White Stranger, therefore, excited a great sensation throughout the country, an old prediction being current there, as among most other Indo-Chinese nations, that they are destined one day to be conquered by white men. What added to the dread of the impression produced by the White Stranger's arrival, was the circumstance of the Laos country having, during the past year, been subject to a great inundation-and when the waters subsided, white fish, a white crow, (rura avis in terris,) and several other white animals having been found!

In spite of all these terrible omens, Dr. Richardson seems to have been treated with sufficient kindness. The Chief and people however expressed great apprehensions of the British power and intentions. They were particularly struck with the circumstance of our troops not having been afraid to go in open day-light to attack Martaban-although, they said, it would have been better to have gone at night'-and been able thus to burn all the inhabitants in their beds! On Dr. Richardson expressing that the British had no desire to interfere with other people, if they were let alone and that we were a straight forward race-they answered "that is the very reason we are so afraid of you, if you would advance slyly, or in a serpentine line, like a Burmah, we might hope to avoid you, but there is no resisting you-when you come butting on, like a powerful animal

The place to which Dr. Richardson went is called, by the Burmese, Laboung. It is situated about half a day's journey from the capital of Northern Laos, called by the Siamese and Laos men, Ch'haing-mai, and by the Burmese, Zemee, and by the Portuguese and English travellers, Janguma, &c. Its latitude does not appear to bave been perfectly ascertained-but lies, in all probability, between 19deg. and 20deg. The best description of it is given by Fitch-an English traveller, who visited the spot in 1587. He says, he was twenty-five days travelling to it, from the city of Pegu, shaping his course N. E., and that he passed through many pleasant and fruitful countries. Dr. Richardson found the road difficult and mountainous, and saw few traces of habitation---and besides the town of Laboung, (the population of which he does not think exceeds two thousand five hundred souls,) only some small villages. The Chief has the same title given him by his people, as that applied to the King of Siam-." Lord of life." The Chief and people took great pains to assure Dr. R. that they are not tributary to Siam, and that they only occasionally send some teak timber