THAT philosopher was an ass, who, trembling at the peril inherited with his eyes, resolved to avoid all mischief by pulling them out. We know, that in this narrow, gloomy passage, called the world, eyes are, so to speak, edged tools-hurting the wearer. We know that, deceived by them, we often shake and wonder at a stalking giant, when, in truth, the Polyphemus is only a swaggering mountebank on wooden stilts,-and doff our caps to a glistering glory, which, stript of its outside, is more loathsome than an ape. On the other hand, how many, with a wise tyranny, use their eyes as the meanest vassals, never suffering them to play truant in the summer clouds-to hang on summer flowers-to lose their time with unprofitable exhalations, or to try to spell the mystery of the stars! No; prudently disciplined, the ocular servants help their masters to dress and to undress-to save them from posts and pillars when abroad-to eat their meat, and to take especial care that no shilling be a counterfeit. Alas! though the best philosophers lack such wisdom, Barnaby Palms was endowed with it to fulness. Locke has said, that two men looking at a rainbow, do not, indeed, see the same rainbow. (Two men, looking at one guinea, are, we conceive, quite in another position.) Now, Barnaby never thought of trusting his eyes but with the lowest duties, instinctively keeping them from all delicate embarrassments. In the petty, menial wants of life, Barnaby might employ his eyes; in the momentous concerns of this world, he winked, and securely-felt his way.

At the green age of eighteen, Barnaby possessed the ripe fruit of two score. But the truth is, Barnaby had never been a child. In the nurse's arms, he was a very manikin, showing an extraordinary precocity in his choice of the ripest apple and the biggest cake. Left as a legacy to an only uncle, the boy flourished after his "own sweet will," unchecked and unassisted save by the scantily paid attentions of a well-meaning pedagogue, vegetating in a hamlet some six miles from the Kentish coast. Poor Joshua! he might have learned of his scholar-might have sucked worldly wisdom even from the suckling. We repeat it: at eighteen, Barnaby was a match for grey hairs.

Barnaby had a deep respect for his uncle ; in fact, so deep, it all but sank to fear. Thus our hero spared no pains to feel his way to the heart of his relation, who, be it understood, enjoyed the reputation of a wealthy man, albeit, old inhabitants of the town would sometimes marvel how his wealth had been acquired. Palms, senior, dwelt in a huge, dilapidated mansion within gunshot of the sea; his household consisting of an old man and his daughter, a pretty, gay-hearted lass of eighteen. Old Palms was seated in his oak-parlour, steadily employed upon a breakfast, of which beef and Kentish ale, with an incidental drop of white brandy, formed the principal part. Before him sat Barnaby in trim, travelling attire. He looked and spoke the creature of humility. Could he have made the transfer, he would have given his soul to his uncle as readily as he advanced the mustard. The truth is, Barnaby was about to enter the world, he had drawn on his boots for the great pilgrimage of life. In a few hours, and he must feel his way through the crowd of London, being destined to the warehouse of Messrs. Nokes and Styles, mercers, City. Hence the reader may imagine that Barnaby was subdued by the approaching event-that he felt some odd twitchings at the heart, as he stared at the old wainscot, with its every wormhole familiar to him-that a something rose to his throat, as he looked out upon the sea, tumbling and roaring in concert with a January gale—at that sea which had sung his early lullabies -that his heart, like the ocean-shell, still responded to the sound. It is reasonable to believe, though we cannot substantiate the fact, that some such emotions rose in the bosom of the pilgrim. Of this, however, we are certain: Barnaby looked with the eyes of a devotee towards a small, leathern bag, lying on the table at the right hand of his uncle; and Barnaby continued to gaze at the string securing the neck, until, distracted by the appearance of Patience Mills, who-the more serious portion of the breakfast consumedentered with a dozen eggs.

Now, Patience had a face as round, and cheeks as red as any pippin,-eyes blue as heaven,-and a mouth, as a certain young man on the coast avowed, sweet as a honeycomb. Nevertheless, had Patience been some smoke-dried hag, Barnaby had not visited her with looks less charitable. Patience replied to the glance by a giggle, solacing herself, when out of hearing, by muttering,

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glad he's going." Barnaby looked at his uncle's fingers, and then at the bag. Heedless of the hint, old Palms took an egg.

"Come, eat, Barney, eat. Ye'll have a cold ride to London: the north wind's edged like a scythe. What! not take eggs ?"` "Doat on 'em, uncle," cried Barnaby aroused, like Shylock, from "a dream of

:

money-bags."-The fact is, Barnaby had that day determined to like every thing on that occasion, he wished to leave a vivid impression of his meekness and humility."Quite a weasel at eggs, uncle," continued Barnaby, and he began to chip the shell. Now, it so happened, that Barnaby had fallen upon an egg which, on being opened, emitted conclusive evidence of its antiquity. Old Palms, instantly perceiving the work of time, roared to Barnaby to cast the abomination out of the window. Barnaby, however, determined to give an example of his economy -of his indifference to petty annoyancesat like a statue, still holding the egg between his thumb and finger-his uncle applying the same instruments to his own

nose.

"Out with it, Barney!"-Barney smiled a remonstrance, and handled his spoon."Zounds!” cried old Palms, almost grinning through his disgust at what he deemed the ignorance or simplicity of his nephew"Zounds! nephew-why-ha, ha!-you'll

never eat ?"

Barnaby, mistaking the humour of his uncle, nodded knowingly.

"You will! I tell you 'tis a musty egga bad egg-pah! the egg stinks!"

Barnaby looked as though he believed he had won his uncle's heart for ever, and then complacently made answer, "I don't care for eggs over-fresh.”

The avowed taste of Barnaby was not lost upon his uncle. The old man looked through the youth with a thinking eye-an eye that seemed to read his moral anatomy, and then uttered a long "hem!" at the same time stretching his hand to the money-bag. Invisible fingers were playing on the heartstrings of Barnaby, whilst, from the corner of his eye, he watched his uncle slowly untie the strip of knotted leather which " pressed the god within." The bag was opened; its glorious contents blazed on the table; and as they rang upon the oak, Barnaby instinctively rose to his feet, standing respectfully uncovered in "the presence."

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"Barney," said old Palms, and reverently laid his hand upon the gold," Barney, my child! you see the little hoard I've set apart for you." -The life-blood of Barnaby tingled in his very eyes, and his ears rang with music. - "You see the few savings and scrapings I have made for the child of my brother. For I feared that you, an innocent, unprotected, unassisted lad, would need the aid which money can alone afford. Barney, I trembled for the softness of your heart the simplicity of your nature."-Here Barney felt almost in peril of tears." Yes, Barney, these were my weak anxieties, my foolish fears."-Saying which, the old man began to return the guineas to the bag. During the operation, not a word was spoken. Bar

ney, scarcely venturing to breathe, stood with his head bent on his breast, and one eye on the table, silent and subdued. The tinkling of the gold-the voice of Barney's fortune, was alone audible; and, as note followed note, the young expectant became possessed as though he listened to angelic trumpets. The bag being filled, Palms proceeded to tie its mouth, talking as he leisurely tied." Barney, I find my fears were the fears of ignorance. You need not such a sum as this; you are already rich in strength-in wisdom."

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"I, uncle!" cried Barnaby, sensitively shrinking from the compliment, and at the same time-struck by the manner of Palms breaking into a profuse sweat.—“I strong! I wise! Oh, uncle!"

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Come, Barney, why so modest? I say, strength and wisdom, as the world goes, are yours. Here we've a hundred guineas in this little bag; what then? to a lad of your wit they're of little worth. You'll never miss 'em. Now, here," and Palms slid the coin along the table, "here are five guineas.” "Five! uncle!"

"Five! The reward of your skill-of the skill you have shown this morning."

"Five guineas! skill! uncle!"

"Never doubt it, Barney; take up the money, and never mistrust that head of thine; for well I know, that the fellow who, in this working world, cares not for his eggs 'over-fresh,' will in the end, flourish as well though he begin with five guineas, as with five thousand."

The tone and manner of old Palms forbade any reply on the part of his nephew, who, nevertheless, received the eulogy with a sulkiness worthy of the great cynic. Indeed, had Barnaby pocketed five snow-balls, he could not have looked more blank and frozen; could not have mounted the borrowed horse, ready saddled to convey him to London, with more reluctant leg, with grimmer countenance. No wonder; Barnaby thought he had securely felt his way: now Barnaby had lost ninety-five guineas.

[The two succeeding chapters relate' Barnaby's experiences in London-his failure to oust one of the partners of the house in which he was located-and his repulse by the Widow Blond, of Bishopsgate Without.]

Last Chapter.

In the foregoing Chapters, we have confined ourself to two great disappointments of our hero, who, however, as he felt his way through life, had manifold small successes. It is true that Fortune, when she promised most, had shown herself most fickle; yet had she rewarded Barney with a thousand gifts. Thus, ere he had completed his threeand-fortieth year, Barney had "land and beeves." His miraculous sense of touch,

luxurious palanquins on the shoulders of their slaves, or reclined on gorgeous couches in stately indolence, shampooed by dark beauties, or fanned to sleep by the menials of their countless trains; while princes and potentates lingered in their outer chambers, and the nobles of the land humbled them selves before them.

At length it was discovered that this pic ture was somewhat too highly coloured, that every Englishman in India does not maintain a princely state and fare sumptuously every day, that though a considerable number of young gentlemen, and some young ladies, besides a few elderly governors, bishops, and judges, are yearly transported to that land of promise, few of them live to come back; and that of the small number who do return with improved fortunes and impaired constitutions, by far the greater part are content to renounce all "the luxuries of the East" for the modified pleasures of drinking the waters of Cheltenham, congregating at their club in Hanover-square, -or vainly endeavouring, in the remoter places of their nativity, to realize the dreams of happiness in their fatherland which had haunted one and all of them during their exile.-Quarterly Review.

Spirit of Discovery.

THE MICROSCOPE.

How many beauties of the minute world would, probably, have been lost to inquiring man but for the invention of this simple instrument! Two centuries since, its surprising powers had scarcely been heard of; and only in our times have they been developed, until its marvels appear illimitable.

The examples we are about to present to the reader, are not among the most extraor dinary results of recent microscopic examinations: but, they so beautifully illustrate the minute perfection of the economy of nature, that they will, doubtless, prove interesting and acceptable. They were first published about eight years since, by the late Mr. Thomas Carpenter, optician, of Regent-street, to whose ingenuity we are indebted for the first gigantic, solar and lucernal microscopes; which improvements, though brilliant in themselves, have been comparatively eclipsed by the more recently introduced oxy-hydrogen instrument.

Our first examples familiarly illustrate some of the countless beauties of crystallization. It may be requisite to observe that saltpetre, Glauber's salt, copperas, or any other of the many neutral salts, being dissolved in water, and the water being then allowed slowly to evaporate, re-appears in beautiful, regular crystals, each salt having its own peculiar forms. If the reader will

excuse the homeliness of the reference, he may witness this circumstance in the incrustations on the sides of a pickling-pan, when the brine has been left to evaporate. Yet this occurs only in a perfectly fluid medium, as water, the necessity of which condition is shown by the two annexed cuts. They represent elegant configurations formed in the solution of common salt in viscid media, which prevent it shooting into crystals; these forms varying with the nature of the different vehicles employed. They mostly commence with lines crossing each other, and either at right angles, or at acute and obtuse ones, from which ramification they extend themselves around; some of these lines being straight, and others curved. Thus, in fig. 1, a straight line is seen crossed

but likewise erects its eggs upon slender stems, distributed over the surface of such leaves as the Aphis, (or Plant-Louse,) had previously laid its eggs upon. This is shown

in

Fig. 3.

(Eggs upon a Leaf.)

"The eggs are thus kept out of the reach of the young aphides, which otherwise would destroy them, by means of the piercers attached to their rostrums, before they are hatched, and have attained their larva state. The young aphides, immediately on their exclusion from the eggs, commence feeding upon the juices of the leaf, by the assistance of the tubes and piercers contained within the proboscis with which each is furnished; and, under the microscope, they present the appearance of a flock of sheep feeding upon an extensive plain. Whilst the aphides are thus luxuriating, the larvae of the hemerobius are excluded from their eggs, and immediately crawl down the slender props upon which they rested, and commence devouring the aphides. In this larva state, these insects are termed Plant Louse Lions, in consequence of their feeding so voraciously upon the aphides; and by thus thinning them, they are doubtless of great service in the general economy of nature. The Hemerobius, when viewed under a microscope, is one of the most splendid objects in nature, and has long been celebrated among microscopic wonders."

Fig. 4 is a magnified representation of the Jaws and Teeth of the Cheese Mite; two of which are larger than the other two. There is also an appendage to each pair of jaws, somewhat resembling a finger in shape, one (Fig. 4.)

(Jaws of a Cheese-Mite.)

of which is dislocated from the jaws, and is shown closely adjoining it. In other mites have been found two other appendages to their mouths, resembling the small claws of a crab or lobster. The curved jaws would indicate that the action of the two sets of teeth was similar to that of scissors or shears, cutting sideways, similarly to the action of a cow chewing the cud, and not up and down, as in the usual manner of chewing.

Fig. 5, represents a specimen of the Conferva Reticulata, an exceedingly rare and beautiful Water-Moss found in a ditch at Lee, Fig. 5.

near Lewisham, Kent. On its being placed in water, in a watch-glass under the microscope, it expanded and exhibited the very curious structure shown in the figure. It is of a green colour, and forms cylindrical masses, in its natural state; but here only a few ramifications are shown. The net-like

meshes are varied, consisting of from four to seven sides; and they are of several different sizes, according to the age of the conferva; some are large enough to be distinguished by the naked eye, whilst others require the aid of powerful magnifiers to discern them. This Conferva, or moss, is the resort of numerous species of animalcules; and, consequently, is highly useful in affording a great variety of specimens for examination under the microscope.

Microscopes are, generally speaking, costly instruments; but, our economical times have produced a cheap and simple means of encouraging a taste for microscopic investigation. This is in the invention of a microscope which can be carried in the pocket, or with more facility than, (as Sir Humphry Davy suggests,) chemical apparatus may be conveyed in a small travelling trunk. The engraving shows this portable microscope: "it consists of a handle of hard wood a, which is screwed into a brass piece d, and which has at its top, a ring, with female screws on back and front, into which are to be screwed two cells, with lenses of different foci bur

Fig. 6.

b

(Portable Microscope.) nished into them. There is also a projecting part formed on the side of the brass piece d, in which is a screwed hole to receive the screwed end of a cylindrical rod of brass c, which has a shouider adjoining to its screw to steady it, when screwed home. There is also at the other end of the rod c, a milled head to turn it by. Upon the rod e a springing split socket e slides backwards and forwards, and is also capable of being turned round upon the rod in all directions. This socket has affixed to it, on one side, a projecting part, which has a screwed cavity in it, which receives a short screwed tube, having a small hole in its centre, made to fit the steel cylindrical stem of the spring forceps; and a corresponding hole being also made at the bottom of the screwed cavity, above mentioned, a bit of perforated cork is lodged in that said cavity, which being pressed upon by the action of the screw, closes upon the steel stem of the forceps, and acts as a spring serving to steady the forceps, and the objects held in them, in any required situation. The short screwed tube has a slit sawn across its top to receive a turnscrew, by which it can be turned more or less, as required. The stem of the forceps being removed from its place in the short tube; the handles and lenses; and the rod c, and the sliding socket upon it, unscrewed from its place in the handle; can all three be then packed in a black paper case with a pull-off top, and which case is only 31⁄2 inches long, 1 inch broad, and half an inch thick, so as to be exceedingly portable. This microscope possesses three different magnifying powers: viz. those of two lenses separately, and the two in combination; and has every facility for the adjustment of the objects."

New Books.

THE COMPANION TO THE ALMANAC.

[This year's volume is, in every respect, as valuable as either of its predecessors; the same untiring diligence and apt illustration being evident in each of its closely-packed pages. Among the most striking papers is one on the Old Arguments against the Motion of the Earth, a successful attempt to eradicate error and establish truth. Next is a paper suggesting the establishment of a Medical Police, with a few of the subjects on which a state physician might report, as in the adulteration of provisions; from this document we extract a few paragraphs :-]

Fish is generally allowed to be more intolerable when tainted than any other food; yet even here habit has sometimes got the better of natural instinct, and the Esquimaux epicure likes stale fish as he of London does stale game. In addition to the dangers arising from the commencement of putrefaction in fish, it is clear that many fish become unwholesome and even poisonous at certain seasons; and it has often been a subject of scientific inquiry to determine when and why this is the case, especially with regard to mussels. Beck says that the oyster, lobster, crab, and mackerel of the New York market have each occasionally produced poisonous effects, though he knows of no case of death from them. The London market is sometimes supplied with unwholesome salmon in large quantities.

Bread is unfortunately but too well known to be adulterated, and in London is perhaps rarely met with in a state of purity. The most usual admixture seems to be that of spoiled flour, pulse, and potatoes, though alum and other drugs no doubt enter into the compound. One of the most remarkable differences between London and genuine bread is the extreme_rapidity with which the former dries up. It is true that at some first-rate shops the bread is tolerable and even good; but we require that the poor and the incautious should be protected. Much might be done for this purpose by an examination of ordinary London bread by a scientific man invested with official authority, who should publish the results, and the details by which he arrived at them.

Many other subjects of inquiry in this division might deserve a lengthened discussion; but we must content ourselves with giving merely what would be the heads of sections in an elaborate treatise, and pass over all the details. Thus an inspector might report on the state in which vegetables are brought to market; the fermentation which takes place when they are heaped together in baskets; the qualities of mushrooms; the manufacture of fictitious pepper-dust; and