- as well as ducks and geese, are the more reasonable stimulants: their flavor counteracts the insipidity of vegetables, and provokes the appetite to a greater consumption of them. On festive occasions, venison and turtle retain their pre-eminent station at the tables of the opulent, where also the fawn forms an elegant dish, when roasted whole and served up with rich gravy. Veal, having now been fed on milk in its richest state, is peculiarly fine and well flavored. Ragouts of sweetbreads, oxpalates, lambs' hits, fat livers, and cocks'-combs, are among the light dishes introduced at superior tables; where also various preparations of curry afford a delectable repast to those who have acquired a taste for this Indian diet. Quails, during this and the following months, are brought alive in considerable numbers from France in low wicker cages. The ortolan, a delicate little bird of the quail tribe, is imported from Germany either alive, or in a potted state, and being a greater rarity is still dearer than the quail. The season affords a plenteous and varied dessert, consisting of pines, melons, peaches, cherries, grapes, currants, gooseberries, and raspberries, as well as early apples and pears. Fruit is certainly most salubrious in hot weather; but, if the opinion be well founded that it does most good when taken before dinner, the dessert ought to take place of that spurious meal called the lunch, which, being usually made of animal food, too often banishes the appetite irrecoverably for the day. In reality, to lunch is to dine. GOOD LIVING. A gentleman of good estate was not bred to any business, and could not contrive how to waste his hours agreeably. He had no relish for the proper works of life, nor any taste for the improvements of the mind; he spent generally ten hours of the four-and-twenty in bed; he dozed away two or three more on his couch, and as many more were dissolved in good liquor every evening, if he met with company of his own humor. Thus he made a shift to wear off ten years of his life since the paternal estate fell into his hands. One evening, as he was musing alone, his thoughts happened to take a most unusual turn, for they cast a glance backward, and he began to reflect on his manner of life. He set himself to compute what he had consumed since he came of age. "About a dozen feathered creatures, small and great, have, one week with another," said he, "given up their lives to prolong mine; which, in ten years, amounts to at least six thousand. Fifty sheep have been sacrificed in a year, with half a hecatomb of black cattle, that I might have the choicest parts offered weekly upon my table. Thus a thousand beasts, out of the flock and herd, have been slain in ten years time to feed me, besides what the forest has supplied me with. Many hundreds of fishes have, in all their varieties, been robbed of life for my repast-and of the smallest fry some thousands. A measure of corn would hardly suffice me, with fine flour, for a month's provision, and this arises to above six score bushels; and many hogsheads of wine, and other liquors, have passed through this body of mine-this wretched strainer of meat and drink! And what have I done, all this time, for God or man? What a vast profusion of good things upon a useless life and a worthless liver! There is not the meanest creature among all those which I have devoured, but what hath answered the end of its creation better than I. It was made to support human nature, and it hath done Every crab and oyster I have eaten, and every grain of corn I have devoured, hath filled up its place in the rank of beings, with more propriety than I have. Oh! shameful waste of life and time." So. He carried on his moral reflections with so just and severe a force of reason as constrained him to change his whole course of life, to break off his follies at once, and to apply himself to gain useful knowledge, when he was more than thirty years of age. The world were amazed at the mighty change, and beheld him as a wonder of reformation; while he himself confessed and adored the divine power and mercy that had transformed him from a brute to a man. He lived many following years with the character of a worthy man and an excellent Christian. He died with a peaceful conscience, and the tears of his country were dropped upon his tomb. But this was a single instance, and we may almost venture to write "miracle" upon it. Are there not numbers, in this degenerate age, whose lives have run to utter waste, without the least tendency to usefulness ?* * Franklin. July 1. On the 1st of July, 1690, fell, at the battle of the Boyne, the celebrated George Walker. He was a native, and became rector of Donaghmore, in the county of Tyrone in Ireland. Alarmed by the encroachments of James II. he raised a regiment at his own expense, and, the king having taken Coleraine and Kilmore, Walker rode full speed to Lundee, the governor of Londonderry, to apprize him of the danger. The governor slighted the information, and Walker, returning to Lifford, joined Colonel Crafton, took post at the Long Causeway, which he defended a whole night against a vastly superior force, and then retreated to Londonderry. The pani-struck governor basely deserted his post, and the rector of Donaghmore assisted Major Baker in defending Londonderry, with a bravery scarcely paralleled by the most able gen erals. port; and the poor famished inhabitants had the misery to see all hope of relief destroyed. Their patience became exhausted, and there was danger of a general defection. In this state Walker assembled his wretched garrison in the cathedral, and, preaching to inspire them with a reliance upon providence, he assured them of a speedy release from their dangers. They returned to their labors invigorated, and, as if he had been a prophet as well as a general, they discovered three ships, under the command of majorgeneral Kirk, who had sent Walker a message before, that when he could hold out no longer he would raise the siege at the hazard of himself, and his men, and vessels. Kirk gallantly sailed on under a heavy cannonade from James's army, and succeeded in crossing the bar in the night of July 31. This saved Londonderry. The siege was raised, and no man in that century gained or deserved higher reputation than Walker. Resigning the command of the regiment to Kirk he embarked for England, with an address to King William and Queen Mary, who received him as his merit deserved; and the parliament, the city, and the university of Oxford, united to do justice to his patriotism and ability. He received the degree of doctor of divinity: but, preferring the army to the church, obtained a commission from the king and accompanied him to Ireland, where he perished with the duke of Schomberg, at Boyne water. Had Walker joined his flock instead of going to the field he would probably have been appointed to the see of Derry, which became vacant three days after his death. "However," says Noble, "he seemed designed for a brigadier-general, rather than a bishop." James, with a numerous army well supplied with every requisite, commanded in person, and laid siege to Londonderry. The besieged had no means for a long defence; the greater part within the walls were the country people who had fled from their homes for shelter; they had only about twenty cannon, no more than ten days' provision, no engineers, and were without horses for foraging parties or sallies, but held an invincible resolution to suffer the greatest extremities rather than yield. They sent tɔ inform King William of their determination, and implored speedy relief. Major Baker died, and the command devolved upon Walker. Famine devastated the place. Horses, dogs, cats, rats, and mice were devoured by the garrison, and even salted hides were used as food. In this scene of misery a gentleman who maintained his usual healthy apppearance hid himself for two days, fearing danger from the eager eyes of the famished people, who July 1. Sun rises seemed to look upon him as reserved for them to feast upon. Walker suffered in common with his men, and hoped that, as Londonderry had a good harbour, king William would be enabled to raise the siege. By land there was no prospect of succor, and James was so mortified by the city holding out, that, though he could have stormed it, he resolved to force it to surrender by blockade and starvation. He threw a bar across the arm of the to sea prevent vessels from entering the -sets h. m. 3 45 8 15 NO REAL NIGHT until the 22nd. Copper day lily flowers July 2. OFFICIAL DECYPHERING. July 2, 1788. A writer in the Gentle man's Magazine, in a letter of this date, signed P. 1., says "I had the honor to be nearly related to Mr. Justice Blencowe, the father of Mr. William Blencowe, who was the first person to whom government allowed a salary as decypherer; and I will tell you how he obtained it: it was by going to the minister unknown, and, I believe, unrecomme mended, and asking for it. The minister, surprised, asked him what pretensions he, a stranger, had to ask such a boon of him? Because, Sir,' said he, I am qualified to execute it.' 'Can you?' said the minister, then decypher these two letters' (for the want of a decypherer of those letters occasioned the proposed recompense). Mr. Blencowe returned with the letters properly decyphered, and had the employment, and, I think, two or three hundred pounds a year. He was soon after seized with a violent fever, from which no man could have shown more anxiety to get over, and did so; but soon relapsed, and shot himself, having previously written an inscription for his monument, which I forget, only there was the following singular expression in it, he died, however, satisfied with life." Mr. William Blencowe, the decypherer, derived, probably, a knowledge of his art from his mother. She was eldest daughter to that very great adept in the art of decyphering secret-writing, Dr. Waliis, who, it is said, declined the offer of a bishopric to promote the advancement of his son-in-law to the dignity of a judge. Blencowe, the decypherer, mainly assisted in disclosing the contents of certain papers, which were produced in evidence against Bishop Atterbury. Sylvanus, Urban's correspondent, says, "The good old judge, his father [Sir John Blencowe, knt.] outliving his faculties, conceived that he had found out the longitude, and wrote several reams of paper upon that subject; and his dutiful son, the decypherer, rather than tell his father it was all absurdity, was at the pains of copying all he had written out, fair, to be laid before the parliament. Some time before he died, he told his old trusty servant that he was dead, and bid John lay him out. John, who knew his trim, laid him out upon the carpet; and, after he had lain as dead for some time, John observed that he thought his honor was coming into life again; the judge Noble thought so too, and soon after arose from the dead. He died, in reality, May 6,1726, for I well remember going to see his lead coffin at Brackley. And now, Mr. Urban, let me give you a specimen of his head and his heart before his faculties left him. An old man, who had been a hewer of stones for the judge many years, lived to be upwards of ninety, and for some years had daily spoiled the stones instead of rendering them fit for use. Lady Blencowe, perceiving it, desired the judge to continue him his eight ence a day, and let him stay at home. No,' no, said the judge, let him spoil on; he has a pleasure in thinking he earns his daily bread at four score years and ten: but, if you turn him off, he will soon die with grief.' And that was the case, for, when the judge died, he was discharged, and followed his humane and considerate master a few days after." CARNATION AND INSECTS. The fragrance of a carnation led me to enjoy it frequently and near. While inhaling the powerful sweet, I heard an extremely soft, but agreeable murmuring sound. It was easy to know that some animal, within the covert, must be tire musician, and that the little noise must come from some little body suited to produce it. I am furnished with apparatuses of a thousand kinds for close observation. I instantly distended the lower part of the flower, and, placing it in a full light, could discover troops of little insects frisking and capering with wild jollity among the narrow pedestals that supported its leaves, and the little threads that occupied its centre. I was not cruel enough to pull out any one of them; but adapting a microscope to take in, at one view, the whole base of the flower, I gave myself an opportunity of contemplating what they were about, and this for many days together, without giving them the least disturbance. Under the microscope, the base of the flower extended itself to a vast plain; the slender stems of the leaves became trunks of so many stately cedars; the threads in the middle seemed columns of massy structure, supporting at the top their several ornaments; and the narrow spaces between were enlarged into walks, par terres, and terraces. On the polished bottom of these, brighter than Parian marble, walked in pairs, alone, or in larger companies, the winged inhabitants: these from little dusky flies, for such only the naked eye would have shown them, were raised to glorious glittering animals, stained with living purple, and with a glossy gold that would have made all the labors of the loom contemptible in the comparison. I could, at leisure, as they walked together, admire their elegant limbs, their velvet shoulders, and their silken wings; their backs vying with the empyræan in its hue; and their eyes each formed of a thousand others, out-glittering the little planes on a brilliant. I could observe them here singling out their favorite females, courting them with the music of their buzzing wings, with little songs formed for their little organs, leading them from walk to walk among the perfumed shades, and pointing out to their taste the drop of liquid nectar just bursting from some vein within the living trunk: here were the perfumed groves, the more than myrtle shades of the poet's fancy, realised; the happy lovers spent their days in joyful dalliance;-in the triumph of their little hearts, skipped after one another from stem to stem among the painted trees; or winged their short flight to the close shadow of some broader leaf, to revel undisturbed in the heights of all felicity. here Nature, the God of nature, has proportioned the period of existence of every creature to the means of its support. Duration, perhaps, is as much a compatative quality as magnitude; and these atoms of being, as they appear to us, may have organs that lengthen minutes, to their perception, into years. In a flower destined to remain but a few days length of life, according to our ideas, could not be given to its inhabitants; but it may be according to theirs. I saw, in the course of observation of this new world, several succeeding generations of the creatures it was peopled with; they passed, under my eye, through the several successive states of the egg and the reptile form in a few hours. After these, they burst forth at an instant into full growth and perfection in their wing-form. In this they enjoyed their span of being, as much as we do years-feasted, sported, revelled in delights; fed on the living fragrance that poured itself out at a thousand openings at once before them; enjoyed their loves, laid the foundation for their succeeding progeny, and, after a life thus happily filled up, sunk in an easy dissolution. With what joy in their pleasures did I attend the first and the succeeding broods through the full period of their joyful lives! With what enthusiastic transport did I address to each of these yet happy creatures Anacreon's gratulation to the Cicada: Blissful insect! what can be, The dewy morning's sweetest wine. Happy creature! happy thou Dost neither age, nor winter know; Thy fill, the flowery leaves among, Sated with the glorious feast, While the pure contemplative mind thus almost envies what the rude observer would treat unfeelingly, it naturally shrinks into itself on the thought that there may be, in the immense chain of beings, many, though as invisible to us as we to the inhabitants of this little flower-whose organs are not made for comprehending objects larger than a mite, or more distant than a straw's breadthto whom we may appear as much below regard as these to us. With what derision should we treat those little reasoners, could we hear them arguing for the unlimited duration of the carnation, destined for the extent of their knowledge, as well as their action! And yet, among ourselves, there are reasoners who argue, on no better foundation, that the earth which we inhabit is eternal.* At distance seen, the fir-clad height That well (how well!) becomes the place; The winds are still, that whispered there, We passed that frowning height beneath, Thus far had I sung, when I bethought myself that plain prose would better suit one who is so over-burthened with "original poetry" as the editor of the Year Book. Had I continued my strain I should presently have led my reader to the church which forms the subject of the preceding cut,-it stands on a pretty eminence in the midst of scenery sin gularly romantic and beautiful. In the church yard, I, with some difficulty, decyphered an inscription on a shapeless block of stone, which had formerly occupied a place in the upper part of a Gothic window. I believe that monuments of the kind, in similar situations, did not come into use much earlier |