only a pretence for his martial phrenzy; and that pride alone forges his arms, and displays his ensigns: his whole attention is fixed on the pomp of the triumph.

Fear, equally powerful with pride, will produce the same effect; it will raise ghosts and phantoms, and disperse them among the tombs, and in the darkness of the woods, present them to the eyes of the affrighted traveller, seize on all the faculties of his soul, without leaving any one at liberty to reflect on the absurdity of the motives for such a ridiculous terror.

The passions not only fix the attention on particular sides of the objects they present to us, but they also deceive us, by exhibiting the same objects, when they do not really exist. The story of a country clergyman and an amorous lady, is well known. They had heard, and concluded, that the moon was peopled, and were looking for the inhabitants through their telescopes. If I am not mistaken, said the lady, I perceive two shadows; they mutually incline to each other: doubtless they are two happy lovers.-O fie! Madam, replied the clergyman, these two shadows are the two steeples of a cathedral. This tale is our history, it being common for us to see in things what we are desirous of finding there: on the earth, as in the moon, different passions will cause us to see either lovers or steeples. Illusion is a necessary effect of the passions, the strength, or force, of which is generally measured by the degree of obscu'rity into which they lead us. This was well known to a certain lady, who being caught by her lover in the arms of his rival, obstinately denied the fact of which he had been witness. How! said he, have you the assuranceAh! perfidious creature, cried the lady, it is plain you no longer love me, for you believe your eyes before all I can say. This is equally applicable to all the passions, as well as to love. All strike us with the most perfect blindness. When ambition has kindled a war between two nations, and the anxious citizens ask one another the news; what readiness appears, on one side, to give credit to the good; and, on the other, what incredulity with regard to the bad? How often have Christians, from placing a ridiculous confidence in monks, denied the possibility of the antipodes! There is no century, which has not, by some ridiculous affirmation or nega tion, afforded matter of laughter to the following age.

A past folly is seldom sufficient to shew mankind their present folly.

S.

HUMAN MISERY!

A FRAGMENT.

I was obliged to wait for relays at

"an' please you,” said the post-boy," it will be a full hour afore we can set off again." The poor fellow seemed to dread my anger, and with a fearful anxiety looked in my face. "Thank Heaven, I am not an angry traveller," I inwardly exclaimed: "Very well, my lad, I will walk till that time." It was an autumnal evening, the last rays of the bright orb of day still lingered on the surrounding foliage, as I entered a pleasant grove. The birds offered up their evening song of gratitude, and afforded a lesson of humility to upstart man. I was in a

contemplative mood. I thought of absent friends, of my native home. A soothing serenity occupied my mind, and I exclaimed, “Why is man ungrateful? the protecting Providence that guards the trembling sparrow from the ravaging hawk, is mindful of the welfare of his creatures." A loud sigh roused me from my soliloquy; it proceeded from a man seated under the canopy of a spreading oak, He was far advanced in the vale of years his silver locks, parted on the forehead, disclosed the traces of what he had been; his eyes beamed with a mild glow of pious resignation; his uplifted hands discovered that his thoughts were elevated far above this world; his beard flowed over his breast, and gave an awful air of majesty to his figure. On seeing a stranger, he bowed and courteously pointed to a seat beside him-I accepted it, and we entered into conversation. On every topic he spoke with wisdom, but still a deep melancholy rested on his countenance, and dimmed the fire of his age. "Sir," said he, " face bespeaks you to be possessed of humanity; you doubtless have had your trials, for who in this world are exempt; but perhaps (for I perceive you are English) you still have tender ties that link you to society; perhaps you have blooming sons and daughters, the idols of your love; a wife, the soother of your cares, the

your

prop of your existenee-while I" I saw he could not proceed; drops of bitter anguish chased each other down his furrowed cheek. I endeavoured to whisper a few words of consolation, and joined my hand to his. A scalding drop of misery fell upon it; he groaned piteously for some time; at last, seeming to acquire fortitude, he arose, and, waving his hand, said, "Come with me, Sir, and in the abode of sorrow learn a lesson of wisdom." I followed instinctively. Embosomed in an almost impervious glen stood a cottage. It was in the midst of a little garden, in a corner of which was raised a hillock; over it waved a drooping willow. We entered a small parlour; in the window seat was a female, apparently about the age of twenty; she was tall and elegantly formed; the pallid hue of sickness was spread over her features. She was looking intently on a miniature portrait, and when we entered a hectic flush suffused her cheek, and she regarded me wistfully; then returned to the portrait-and then looked again. "Father," said she to the old man, "I thought he was Frederick-I did indeed."-" Hush."-She approached me "I was to have been married to Frederick to-morrow, but they tell me he is dead-and see, there he lies!"continued she, pointing to the hillock. "But still I will see him-will kiss his cold cheek-for he did love ine; he swore he loved me truly-You weep-you seem affected; so am I, but I cannot weep-now I'm better, see-" She laughed hysterically, and sunk exhausted on a sofa. I shuddered. "This is the lesson I would teach," said her father; "beware how you trifle with the happiness of a young female-Once we were happy; in the society of my wife and daughter, I knew sorrow but by name. A fell deceiver came- -his face wore the marks of honour, but his heart was of the blackest dye: he triumphed over the innocence of my daughter, and reduced her to the condition in which you now behold her. My wife sunk under this accumulated misery→→→ yet still I survive, and still I trust we shall be happy hereafter. Hence, Sir, and should you again behold the modest lily plucked by a libertine hand, remember us." He conducted me again to the oak where we met, and in half an hour I was on the road to Paris.

COLVILLE BARRY.

ENTOMOLOGY:

With a short account of the principal Collectors of Cabinets of Insects in London.

MR. CONDUCTOR,

IN a work published in the year 1805, it is asserted that Entomology was in its infancy. At the time this book was written it might not have been in so flourishing a state as could be wished; but I certainly cannot admit that it was in its infancy. Entomology was first studied as a science upwards of two centuries ago; since which the students of this very pleasing branch of Natural History have greatly accumulated. Fabricci was the first person who may be said to have entered seriously into it. Sir Charles Linnè, every one will say, was a very great Naturalist, but he was more acquainted with any other study than that of Entomology. William Turton published a translation of Linnæa Systema Natura, with additions, which was very well received. At present, I am happy to say that the science of Entomology (independent of other subjects of Natural History) is much countenanced by Schoolmasters. But I proceed to give an account of the Collectors of Insects in London. The first collection is that of Sir Joseph Banks, a person universally beloved by all who know him, and who is justly considered as the patron of Entomology; but it does not follow, because a person has the greatest number of Insects, that he is the best Entomologist. Sir Joseph has amassed a vast collection of English and exotic Insects, though I will not pretend to say that he is the collector of them, or that he knows the names and uses of a third part of them. The next I shall name is that of Mr. Thomas Marshall, so renowned for his first volume of Entomologia Britannica. The collection of this gentleman, I may venture to say, was almost wholly made by himself. It is to be hoped that he will conti nue this work, but it must be some time before the second volume can be produced, as he has now another very arduous task to perform, being secretary to a large Trading Company. Mr. Donovan intends giving plates of the insects described in the first volume, in the work he is now publishing, entitled, "The Insects of Great Britain." Mr. M, was at one time Secretary to the Lin

nean Society, in which situation he acquitted himself to the satisfaction of all the Fellows of that most respectable circle. The Cabinet of Mr. Francillon of St. James's-street makes a great figure among the Collections of the day, it being allowed to be the finest assemblage of foreign Insects in the metropolis. His American Insects were collected by Mr. James Abbot, who published a History of the Insects of a particular Order in Carolina. I might make mention of several others, but I shall only add at present, that Mr. Donovan has also an extensive Collection of Foreign, but more particu- › larly of English, Insects.

London, 29 March, 1807.

I am, Sir,

W. F. G. Fellow Lin. Soc.

WESTMINSTER HALL.

When I enter (says Mr. Stephen, in his Dangers of the Country) that venerable hall which for many centuries has been the seat of our superior tribunals, and contemplate the character of the courts which are busily exercising their several jurisdictions around it, I am almost tempted to forget the frailty of man, and the imperfection of his noblest works. There, justice supported by liberty and honour, sits enthroned as in her temple, elevated far above the region of all ignoble passions. There, judicial character is so strongly guarded by ages of fair example, by public confidence, by conscious independence, and dignity of station, that it is scarcely a virtue to be just.: There, the human intellect nourished by the morning dew of industry, and warmed by manly emulation, puts forth its most vigorous shoots, and consecrates them to the noblest of all sublunary ends.

If the rude emblems of heavenly intelligence with which our pious ancestors have adorned that majestic roof, were really what they were meant to represent, they might announce to us that they had looked down upon an administration of justice, advancing progressively, from the days of our Henries, at least, in correctness, liberality, purity, and independence, till it has arrived at a degree of perfection, never before witnessed upon earth, and such as the children of Adam are not likely ever to surpass.