and we are possessed of, as also a castle they deserted, between Trym and Drogheda upon the Boyne. I sent a party of horse and dragoons to a house within five miles of Trym, there being then in Trym some Scots companies, which the Lord of Ards brought to assist the Lord of Ormonde, but upon the news of Drogheda they ran away, bearing their great guns behind them, which we also have possessed. And now give me leave to say how it came to pass, this great work is wrought; it was set upon some of our hearts that a great thing should be done, not by power or might, but by the Spirit of God; and is it not so, clearly, that which caused your men to storm the breach so courageously, it was the Spirit of God, who gave your men courage, and took it away again, and gave the enemy courage, and took it away again, and gave your men courage again, and therewith this great success, and therefore it is good that God alone have all the glory. It is remarkable that this people at the first, set up the mass in some of the places of the town that had been monasteries; but afterwards grew so insolent, that the Lord's day before the storm, the Protestants were thrust out of the great church called Saint Peter's, and they had public mass there; and in this very place near one thousand of them were put to the sword, flying thither for protection I believe all their Friars were knocked on the head promiscuously but two, the one of which was Father Peter Taaffe, brother to the Lord Taaffe, whom the soldiers took the next day, and made an end of; the other was taken in the round tower, under the report of a lieutenant, and when he understood that the officers in that tower had no quarter, he confessed he was a Friar, but that did not save him. : A great deal of the loss in this business fell upon Colonel Cossell's and Colonel Ewers' regiments; Colonel Ewers having two field officers in his regiment shot, Colonel Cossells, and a captain of his regiment slain, Colonel Hewson's captain lieutenant slain. I do not think we lost one hundred men, though many be wounded. I most humbly pray the Parliament may be pleased, this army may be maintained, and that a consideration may be had of them, and of the carrying on of affairs here, as may give a speedy issue to the work, to which there seems a marvellous fair opportunity offered by God; and although it may seem very chargeable to the state of England, to maintain so great a force, yet surely to stretch a little for the present in following God's Providence, in hope the charge will not be long. I trust it will not be thought by any, that have not irreconcileable or malignant principles, unfit for me to move for a constant supply, which, in all human probability, as to outward means, is most likely to hasten and perfect this work. And, indeed, if God is pleased to finish it here as he has done in England, the war is likely to pay itself. We keep the field much, our tents sheltering us from the wet and cold; but yet, the country sickness overtakes many, and therefore, we desire recruits, and some fresh regiments of foot may be sent; for, it is easily conceived by what the garrisons already drink up, what our field army will come to, if, God shall give more garrisons into our hands. Craving pardon for this great trouble, I rest, Your most humble Servant, O. CROMWELL. P. S.-A major who brought off 43 horse from the enemy, since writing the above, told me that it is reported in their camps, that Owen Roe and they are agreed. The Defendents in Drogheda, consisted of the Lord of Ormonde's regiments, Sir Edmund Verney, Lieutenant Colonel of 400, Colonel Byrne's, Colonel Warren's, and Colonel Wall's 2100, the Lord of Westmeath of 200, Sir James Dillon of 200, and 200 horse. LETTER II. Dublin, September 27th, 1649. Mr. Speaker-I had not received any account from Colonel Venables (whom I sent from Drogheda to endeavour the reducing of Carlingford, and so to march Northwards toward a conjunction with Sir Charles Coote), until the last night, after having come to Carlingford, having summoned the place, both the three castles and the fort commanding the harbour, were reduced by him, wherein were about 1,000 muskets, 40 barrels of powder, 7 pieces of cannon, and 500 pikes, wanting 20. In the entrance into the harbour, Captain Fern aboard your man-of-war had some damage, being shot at from the sea fort, a bullet shooting through his mainmast. The captain's entrance into the harbour was a considerable advantage, and a good service; as, also, was Captain Brodley's, who, with 40 seamen, stormed Tenalia at Drogheda, and helped to take it, for which he deserves an owning by you. Venables marched from Carlingford, with a party of horse and dragoons to the Newry, leaving "the foot to come after him. He summoned the place, and it was yielded before his foot came up to him, which promises well towards your northern interest-which, if well prosecuted, will, I trust God, render you a good account of those parts. I have sent the things to the council of state, to be presented for their consideration. I pray God, as these mercies flow in upon you, he will give you a heart to improve them to His glory alone, because he alone is the author of them, and of all the goodness, patience, and long-suffering, extended towards you. Your army is marched, and I believe lieth this night near Arklow, in the county of Wicklow, on the sea side, about 30 or 40 miles from this place. I am, by God's grace, going towards it. I crave your pardon for this trouble, and rest, Your humble servant, O. CROMWELL. P.S. I desire the supplies moved for may be hastened. I am verily persuaded, though the burthen be great, yet it is for your service. If the garrisons we take swallow up your men, how shall we be able to keep the field. Who knows but the Lord may pity England's sufferings, and make a short work of it-it is in His power so to do, and therein is your servant rejoiced. I humbly present the condition of Captain George Jenkins's widow. He died presently after Tredagh's storm-his widow is in great want. The following officers and soldiers were slain at the storming of Drogheda :-Sir Arthur Ashton, Governor ; Sir Edmund Verney, Lieutenant-Colonel to Ormonde's Regiment; Colonel Fleming; Lieutenant-Colonel Finglass; Major FitzGerald, with eight captains, eight lieutenants. and eight cornets, all of horse, Colonels Wall, Warren, and Byrne-of foot, with their lieutenants, majors, &c. &c.; the Lord Taaffe's brother, an Augustinian friar; 44 captains, and all their lieutenants, ensigns, &c.; 220 reformadoes and troopers; 2,500 foot soldiers, besides staff-officers, surgeons, &c., and many inhabitants.* Thus far the account as laid before parliament by Cromwell, their Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. The Marquis of Ormonde, the Regal Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, in his letters to Charles II. and Lord Byron, says, that, "on this occasion, Cromwell exceeded himself, and any thing he had ever heard of, in breach of faith and bloody inhumanity; and that the cruelties exercised in Drogheda for five days after the town was taken, would make as many pictures of inhumanity as are to be found in the book of martyrs, or in the relation of Amboyna." General Ludlow writes, "that the slaughter was continued all the day of the storming, and the next, which extraordinary severity was used to discourage others from making opposition ;" and it is observable, that this terrible slaughter charged upon Cromwell, is so far from being palliated or excused by him, in his own letters, that he seems to look upon the defenders of Drogheda as a body of amalekites destined to destruction, and himself, only as the executioner of the Almighty's vengeance; and, ac "And many of the inhabitants, &c." It is traditionally said that Cromwell's men spared neither age nor sex, during the first evening of the storm, but exercised the most inhuman cruelties on all who had the misfortune to fall in their way, until Cromwell in his advance to St. Peter's, perceived a woman dead (near the centre of Peter-street) and an infant endeavouring to draw nourishment from her breast! This affecting sight so far softened his callous heart, that he gave immediate orders that the work of carnage should cease, and the work of death be confined to those taken with arms in their hands. 239 cordingly, a writer of his life, terms this extraordinary act of severity "A sacrifice of 3,000 Irish to the ghosts of 10,000 English, whom they had massacred some years before." How agreeable the conduct of General Cromwell, in this affair, was to the parliament, appears by the resolutions of the house, after reading the foregoing letters; for they appointed a thanksgiving day, to be held on the first day of November next ensuing, throughout the whole kingdom. They likewise ordered that a declaration should be prepared and sent into the several counties, sig nifying the grounds for setting apart that day. A letter of thanks was also voted to the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, and to be communicated to the officers there, in which notice was to be taken" that the house did approve of the execution done at Drogheda, as an act of justice to themselves, and of mercy to others, who might be warned thereby." Raheny. ROBERT ARMSTRONG. A PENNY A DAY IS A POUND A YEAR. So my grandmother often told me, and my grandmother, who was no great arithmetician, was wrong, for it is much gamore. Long after she, poor woman, had been " thered to her fathers," I learned from a friend the following simple method of ascertaining the annual amount of a fixed daily expenditure. To such of your readers whose humble extravagance does not exceed "a pint or a glass," in the four and twenty hours, and even to those who can expend a half crown, where the former can expend but two-pence, but who are unable to resist the temptation of some glittering bauble, or some wondrous cheap though unnecessary bargain, this short rule may be useful. Nothing more is necessary in the way of introduction than to say that a groat is fourpence. A penny a day is one pound One half pound One groat And one penny a year £1 0 1400 0000 0 10 0 0 150002 8 0 0 2 3 010 A half crown a day, or thirty pence, the bargain is, Thirty Pounds Thirty half pounds Thirty groats And thirty pence a year £30 0 0 15 0 0 0 10 0 026 ON THE EARTHQUAKES OF SICILY. HERE, on the spot where stately cities rose, No stone is left, to mark in letters rude I seek, but cannot find ye ;-nought appears; C. HEAD RENT OF THE KING'S MANORS OF "Neere to the citie of Dublin are the foure ancient manors annexed to the crowne, which are named to this daie, the King's land, to wit, Newcastell, Massaggard, Eschire, and Crumlin. The manor of Crumlin paieth a greater chese rent to the prinse than anie of the other three, which proceeded of this. The seneschal being offended with the tenants for their misdemeanour, took them up verie sharplie in the court, and with rough and The lobbish minatorie speeches began to menace them. and desperate clobberiousnesse (commonalty) taking the matter in dudgeon, made no more words, but knockt their seneschall on the costard, and left him there sprawling on the ground for dead. For which detestable murther their rent was inhansed, and they paie at this daie Line pence an acre, which is double to anie of the other three manors."-Hollingshed's Chronicle. Quere. Could not this old mode of checking the venerable practice of knocking out the brains of agents be now advantageously adopted? FISHER AND OTHERS a. FOLDS. In a former number of our Journal we prepared our readers for a trial which was about to take place between our publisher and Messrs. Fisher and Co, of London, the proprietors of the work called "Ireland Illus. trated," for an alleged piracy of some of the Views in that work, On that occasion, we stated that we understood well the true motives which in. stigated this prosecution, and were only restrained by feelings of delicacy from proving them to the public. This trial has at length come to issue, and our readers will see, from the charge of the Lord Chief Baron, how justly that learned and upright Judge appreciated what we may justly call a wanton prosecution. He directed the Jury to find a nominal verdict for the plaintiff, as the question of law should be referred for the full Court-such verdict to be turned into a verdict for the defendant, should the judgment of the Court be in his favour and his Lordship then added:"I cannot, however, help remarking, that I never in my life beheld the workings of the spirit of monopoly more clearly evinced than in the present instance; and I consider it proper to state, that no rational man can for a moment entertain a doubt that the sole object of the plaintiffs is to put down this Penny Journal-a meritorious publication, calculated to excite a taste amongst the poorer classes for acquiring useful knowledge." Such were the observations of the learned Chief Baron in sending the case to the Jury; and though the Counsel for the plaintiffs disclaimed any view or intention beyond the protection of the plaintiffs' property, we must say, that Mr. Fisher's acts and professions are at variance. In justice to our own character, we must lay before our readers the offer which we made through our Counsel, when the motion was discussed in the Rolls. On that occasion, Mr. Herrick, on our behalf, disclaimed any intention of injuring the plaintiffs stated our conviction that we had not done so, and undertook, for us, that we would not again copy any of their engravings, as they fancied that they were injured, provided they would abandon their proceedings. This we did, though convinced that the law of the case was with us, and that we had been guilty of no moral wrong, and our offer was rejected. Though the learned Judge has thus retained the question for the decision of the full Court, he did so merely because the case was a novel and important one, and we have no doubt as to the result. However, it shall not alter our determination. We shall not intrude on the property of Mr. Fisher, but feel that this ungenerons attempt on our publication is more calculated to injure those who made it than it is to injure the Journal; and we can tell Mr. Fisher, that if the effects of the attempt, and not the spirit which actuated it, were to govern or guide our feelings, we should be grateful to him. THE DRISHANE CASTLE, COUNTY OF CORK. Drishane Castle, County of Cork The above Castle was built by Dermot M'Carty, the son of Tiege Lord Muskerry, who died in 1448; so that this edifice must be of considerable antiquity. The high tower which appears in the above view is all that now remains of it; but, considering its dangerous vicinity to Droumshicane, the fortified and formerly extensive Castle of the O'Keefe's, which is on the northern bank of the Blackwater, in the barony of Duhallow, and not more than a mile distant from Drishane, it is not improbable that the latter, at one time, presented a more imposing appearance than it now does. Drishane Castle is in the barony of Muskerry, and is seated on a limestone rock, on the southern bank of the river Finow, and a short distance from the spot where that river runs into the Blackwater. The limestone formation manifests itself here within a circular space of not more than a quarter of a mile in diameter, and is not again seen for seven or eight miles on either side of it. The house in our view is the residence of Mr. Wallis, whose estate it now is, and whose ancestor, William Wallis. Esq., according to Dr. Smith, much improved the agriculture of that part of the country. The top of the Castle commands a beautiful view of the chain of mountains, which, commencing with Claragh (the one appearing behind the Castle), runs, in an uninterrupted line, to Killarney, a distance of 20 miles, including the Paps, and terminating with Mangerton and Turk, on the bank of the Lakes. Beyond these can be distinctly discerned Toomies and Macgillicuddy's Ricks, whose singular appearance at this distance shows how applicable the name is, by which they are designated, as they bear a strong resemblance to a group of gigantic corn stacks. Between the Castle and Ciaragh stands the small village of Millstreet,* distant from Cork about 35 miles, and remarkable only as the spot where the celebrated O'Leary, "on hospitable thoughts intent," arrested, or endeavoured to arrest the progress of every passing traveller. This gentleman, who possessed a competent fortune, and was a justice of the peace for the county, resided in a small, low house, in the vicinity of the village. His residence was more recommended by the contents of its larder and cellar, and the kind and courtly manners of its owner, than by its external appearance. No door required the protection of a lock, as he said it was useless to secure the contents of his cellar in that way, when any person might partake of them who sought it; and that any one would intrude from without was improbable, as well from the respect in which he was held, as from the reception which it was likely an impertinent intruder would experience. The following anecdote related by Derrick, who wrote in the year 1760, illustrates the anxiety of the peasantry of that part of the country to establish a claim to hereditary rank or aristocratic connexion. "The inn at Millstreet, however indifferent, is a paradise compared to the spot where we slept the preceding night. The rain continuing to pour heavily, and without ceasing, we stopped at a wretched hovel, on the confines of a bleak, extensive, rugged mountain, where they collect the dues of a turnpike. They showed us into a miserable cabin, in which there was something that wore the appearance of a bed. Mine host of the cottage, whose name was Hely, had more importance than a grandee of Spain. He told us that there was not a better man in Cork or Kerry than himself; that he was well acquainted with the Earl of Shelburn and Sir John Coulthurst, to both of whom he was nearly allied, and therefore he never let either of those families pay turnpike, as he wished to keep up family connexions!" O'Leary, as well by virtue of his magisterial authority as his local and personal influence, maintained the peace at the neighbouring fairs and markets. No constabulary or military assistance was in those days necessary to enforce his behests; his commands were, in most cases, sufficient; but if any proved refractory, obedience was promptly obtained by the vigorous application of the long and weighty pole which he ever carried. His figure was lofty, athletic, and commanding; in his latter days, extremely venerable and patriarchal. He generally stationed himself in Mill-street in the morning of each succeeding day, his long pole supporting his steps, and ready, if necessary, to maintain his authority. There he introduced himself to every passing traveller of respectability, and invited him to enter his ever open door, and partake of his unbounded hospitality. O'Leary, as he was called, being the then head of that ancient house, is dead about forty years, the last male representative of a long line of chieftains, and one of the last (perhaps the very last) who kept up that unlimited hospitality which was once the characteristic of his countrymen. We should perhaps add, that some of the collateral branches of the clan still exist in the district, which derives its name from the family. H. THE BROKEN FIDDLE. A SKETCH FROM REAL LIFE. Poor blind Jemmy Connor !-he played the sweet and plaintive melodies of our Green Isle with a deep and touching pathos. I have listened to him for hours with a mixture of sadness and pleasure; and as he drew the varying heart-touching strains from the strings of his fiddle, I do not feel ashamed to own that he drew the tears from my eyes. He was taught by affliction. But, perhaps, you have never heard the story of Jemmy Connor and his broken fiddle? Well, then, I will tell it you. The calm sunshine of domestic happiness brightened and made glad the young days of Jemmy Connor. He had married early in life the object of his devoted affection, whose faithful love and cheerful attention to household duties had endeared to him his little home. He never missed the clean and tidy room, the comfortable and wholesome repast, and the welcoming smile, at his return from his work; and his sober and industrious habits had gained for him the esteem and confidence of his employer. Jemmy and Mary Connor were happier in their humble dwelling than many a lordly owner of a proud and princely palace. Years of peace and joy rolled over their heads; and, though they had wept at the grave of two of their infant offspring, still they were happy; for their eldest, a sweet, blue-eyed girl, was spared to them; and, shortly after, a son opened its smiling eyes upon the glad pair. But, in giving birth to this last child, poor Mary Connor had taken cold, which brought on that wasting harbinger of death that follows so many families, and was hereditary in hers. Consumption laid its blighting hand upon her shrinking frame, and left the heart-stricken and inconsolable husband a young widower. How uncertain are the enjoyments of the world!-how fleeting are its pleasures! In that same room, about six years after, Jemmy Connor lay upon a sick bed; he had taken the small-pox from his little son, who had recovered; but the doctor seemed to have little hope that he would rise from that bed again. His daughter, now twelve years of age, tended and watched him with untiring solicitude and affection; nor would she quit him, though entreated to leave that scene of danger. He did recover-he rose from the bed of sickness-but his sight was gone for ever! "Dear father!" said Mary Connor, as she sat busily engaged at her needle-the setting sun shining upon them, and the summer breeze, as it passed over the box of blooming mignionette at the opened window, filling the room with fragrance-" Dear father, I am just thinking how good the Lord has been to us, in raising up for us such kind friends. I would not have found it easy to get this work, were it not for that benevolent lady, who exerted herself among her friends, and so earnestly recommended me to them; and how could we have managed to keep this little room so long, but for your kind employer?" 66 True, my dearest child, we have great reason to be thankful. The Lord is good! And though I have met with my own share of affliction, my heart is resigned, and I am still happy-very, very happy-since you are spared to me to bless my darkened hours." As Mary took his extended hand affectionately in hers, he felt a tear fall upon it. "Reach me down my fiddle, my dear child," said he, " and I will play you one of your favourite little airs." Jemmy had amused many a leisure hour, in his younger and happier days, by striving to become a proficient on this instrument. The fiddle, which Mary now handed down to him, was one which his lamented wife had herself purchased for him, and he prized it above all he possessed on earth, next to his beloved Mary and his little Jeinmy. Since he had the misfortune of losing his sight it had been a constant source of pleasure to him, and had soothed away many a bitter pang. I said that consumption was an hereditary complaint in his wife's family. Alas! it soon showed itself in Mary's delicate frame, in the hectic flush of her cheek, and the short oppressive cough. Poor Jemmy Connor! his story is a sad one. His fond, affectionate daughter-the child of his heart-his good, his pious Mary, was carried to an early grave; and it was many a day before he recovered from the effects of this overwhelming shock! Taking his little boy by one hand, and his fiddle in the other, he left the home where all the ties that bound him to earth were breaking one by one. He could not bear to be any longer a dependent on the generosity of his former master, and was now determined to make his fiddle, which was hitherto only his amusement, the means of his own and his son's subsistence. Rambling through the country, from one farm-house to another, Jemmy Connor and his son became well known and universally liked; and, as he played the old Irish airs sweetly and clearly, you would scarcely see a dry eye among those who were grouped in listening silence around him. It was a beautiful day in Autumn; the sun was shining on hill and valley, on wood and stream; the song of the lark was breaking from the far-off golden clouds in strains of thrilling melody, which the wrapt fancy might mistake for a cherub's hymn of praise; the rich meadows filled the air with fragrance; and the produce of the fields, which were lately white with the harvest, was conveyed by the busy husbandmen into the well-filled granaries of the farmer. All was cheerfulness, and praise, and love. Even the very beasts seemed to partake of the general joy. And cold must be the heart that could gaze on such a scene without being lifted up in thankfulness to Him who giveth the rain, and the sunshine, and the abundance of the harvest. There was one that passed through that scene, and, though he saw it not, yet felt his bosom expand with gratitude. The sweet fresh air gladdened his upturned brow, and Jemmy Connor passed along, led by his little son. They were invited to a farmer's house, and they were now taking a short cut through a pathway across the fields. Suddenly, the joyous and exciting halloo of the huntsmen came upon the wind, mingled with the deep-toned yellings of the hounds. A hare, closely pursued, darted, with the speed of desperation, by the father and son; almost in the next instant, the hounds and the huntsmen came thundering on. "Out of the way, you wandering vagabond!" roared a hoarse voice, in startling execration. Hasten, dear father!-hasten!" said the trembling boy. The father, unused to such harsh words, and alarmed at the danger he could not see, dropped his fiddle, and the hindmost hoofs of the flying hunter striking against it, shivered it into pieces. "Your music is finished," laughed out the unfeeling huntsman, as he bounded over a hedge. Oh! who could pourtray the deep, the heart-felt agony of poor Jemmy! All the afflictions of his life seemed crowded together in that last misfortune. Had he been offered a purse of gold in exchange for his fiddle, he would have spurned at it, so hallowed had it become in his remembrance. It was the long-cherished gift of his first and only love; it had been the delight of his dear, his departed daughter, who oft had mingled her sweet song with its notes; it was the soother of his cares, and the means of supporting his remaining child, his faithful Jemmy. When the noise had passed away, he stooped down, and said, in a tone of agony, for he heard the crash, "Is it broke, Jemmy?" "Broke! broke!" exclaimed the little fellow, sobbing bitterly. "Aye, dear father, it is broke into a thousand pieces!" The poor blind man clasped his hands, and stood in unutterable anguish; the child cried and sobbed as if his heart would break; and a man twice addressed them, in a voice of condolence, ere they were aware of his approach. It was the farmer who had invited them to his house. He had seen the huntsmen sweeping by-had heard the rough and cruel exclamation-and, fearing that some accident had occurred, he hastened towards them, and saw the scattered fragments which the boy was taking from the bag and laying on the grass. 66 "Curse on the hard-hearted villain!" said he. May the red vengeance hotly pursue him, and may he break" "Hush, bush!" said poor Jemmy, roused from the depth of his sorrow. "Curse him not; vengeance is not fitted for our weak and erring hands. May the Lord forgive him and I forgive him, though he has laid this desolate heart completely bare by that one blow." "Come, come," said the farmer, dashing away the tears of pity which filled his eyes, “you are heartily welcome to my fire-side still. Come, both of you. I will take no exBut rouse yourself, man, and, with the blessing of God, you shall have another fiddle as good as the one you lost. cuse. "Never! never!" said the blind man ; "never will I handle the like of that again! It was dear and more precious to me than the eyesight which I lost. When I felt it in my hand-when I heard its soothing tone, it illumined my soul with the light of former days; and then my wife, my child, my happiness that vanished when they were gone, came floating through my mind like a sweet dream! It was the gift of my wife. Ah! little did the thoughtless huntsman think that when he broke that precious gift, he broke the minstrel's heart!" Alas! and so it did. The worthy farmer strove to cheer his guest-in vain; he never rose from his bed again; and a few days after, he was laid in his last home. His parting moments were brightened by the kindness and attention of the farmer, who promised to adopt the little Jemmy-he had no son of his own-which he faithfully fulfilled; and, in course of time, he gave him his daughter in marriage. Such is the sad tale; and I never meet one of those wandering minstrels, who are, in general, such favourites among our peasantry-particulary if he should happen to be blind-that I do not think of poor Jemmy Connor and his broken fiddle. C. L. COMPARISON OF THE ANIMAL AND On cursorily viewing the animal and vegetable kingdoms, the eye is so readily presented with the conspicuous differences, that the mind of the general observer rests satisfied, that the line between them is distinct and definite. In the sturdy oak, the living memorial of past ages, that has stood the rage of tempests, and only seems more vigorous from the lapse of time-or the flower that blooms, and dies in a day, he sees no shadow of resemblance with the animated beings which find shelter in its branches, or draw honey from the nectaries attached to its petals. But if he examine the vegetable kingdom in its simplest form-the lichen, the moss, or the fungus-or, as it evinces higher characters of organization in the sensitive plant, that withering shrinks from the touch of man -the fly-trap, that seizes on the insect necessary for its nourishment-the pitcher of the nepenthes, that when filled with water closes in dry weather to prevent the evaporation of the liquid, and in a moist atmosphere causes its cover to receive the liquids requisite for its use--the holly, that while within reach of injury from animals is armed with prickles, yet resigning its spears when beyond the grasp of the enemy-the numerous flowers that sleep at night, or close their petals at regular periods, all exhibiting powers that betray life more abundantly than the corralline or zoophyte, he will observe a link that connects man, with his powers and his proud pre-eminence, to the simplest of plants and animals, the difference consisting in degrees of developement and organization. Aristotle designated plants as animals turned inside out; others ascribe the distinction as evinced by plants being denied the power of locomotion; but by availing ourselves of the knowledge, and attending to the researches and discoveries of the moderns, we shall be better enabled to trace analogies and determine differences which are more or less evident. Elements that enter into the composition of animals, are, with few exceptions, required to act in the vegetable formation; their relative quantity and their mode of combining present the most remarkable difference. Oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen, are to be found in both; nitrogen more particularly belongs to animals, carbon to vegetables: the cotton, white and bursting from its pod, is the purest vegetable carbon. Phosphorus and ammonia are also found in plants: the stepalia, and other flowers, owe their fetid smell, by which flies are attracted, to the disengagement of ammoniacal gas. Lime and silex are also claimed as the constituent parts of some vegetables. Thus the hard and polished case of the stalks of the cane, and many of the grasses, is composed of silex, which may be obtained in the form of small glass globules after the plants are burned. These globules answer for powerful microscopes. The immediate principles of vegetable matter are the threefold combinations of hydrogen, oxygen, and carbon. Vegetables abound in acids, which are freely exhibited in fruits, leaves, and the cellular tissue, but rarely in the seeds or roots. The richness and variety of vegetable products are founded on the above-mentioned basis-and starch, gum, resins, resinous liquids or balms, sugar, in the cane, grape, and mushroom, the fatty, essential and aromatic oils, camphire and tannin, result from different combinations of these simple substances. By the addition of nitrogen we have indigo, and other colouring matters, gluten, albumen, &c. The chief difference observable in the chemical combination of substances necessary to the life of plants and animals, is, that more simplicity and fewer elements enter into the organization of vegetables. In comparing the relative size of the two kingdoms, excess of dimensions belong to the vegetable tribe. The mighty baobab, the spreading banyan, the stately cedar, far surpass the largest of the animal species; the whale, the great serpent, the elephant, and the ostrich, offer masses considerably less. The manifestation of life in vegetables, is exhibited by increase of volume and luxuriant growth of parts; and, with the exception of the moss tribe, they do not present the same minute forms as in the animal kingdom, for here we meet beings so minute, as to almost baffle the power of the microscope to distinguish their structure. In the circumstance of having their exterior bounded by waving or curved lines, we find an agreement between plants and animals. And this is one of the distinctive characters between them and mineral substances, which in their crystalline state present straight lines. But vegetables differ from animals in the circumstance of their symmetry. Thus in almost all animals. a line drawn vertically separates the body into two symmetrical halves, at least with respect to the external parts. To this rule, however, there are a few exceptions, as in the plaice and fish of that tribe, who have two eyes on one side of the body. That symmetry belongs to plants as well as to animals, cannot be denied, but it is not so decided; their bodies do not, when parted longitudinally, evince regularity of organs; though the flowers, sub-leaves, and fruits, show greater disposition to symmetry in form. A horizontal line separates the most complex vegetable into two distinct parts; the stem, with its branches, leaves, fruit, and flowers, depending on the influence of the sun for its vital principle, rises into the atmosphere for light, heat, and vivifying air; while the root penetrates into the earth, and by its searching fibres hid from light, seeks from the moist soil the fluids which it |