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(to use a rough analogy) honey contained in the cells year is evidently connected with the welfare of the of the honeycomb: this humour and the cells which whole, and the production of the greatest sum of contain it are both transparent.

being and enjoyment. That motion in the earth, and Having thus pointed out the principal parts of the change of place in the sun, which cause one region eye and their uses, we may briefly allude to a few of the globe to be consigned to cold, decay, and external appendages of the same organ. The bony barrenness, impart to another heat and life, fertility projection of the eyebrows forms a sort of arched and beauty. Whilst in our climate the earth is bound abode for the eye, to shield its delicate tenant from with frost, and the chilly smothering snows are external violence, and from too much light; and, like falling, the inhabitants of another behold the earth a projecting roof, the brow is furnished with a ridge first planted with vegetation and apparelled in verdure, of hairs, the eyebrows, which arrest or entangle any and those of a third are rejoicing in the appointed small substances, solid or fluid, which might otherwise weeks of harvest. fall or trickle upon the eye. The eyelids, or semi- Each season comes attended with its benefits, and oval curtains which cover the great aperture of the beauties, and pleasures. All are sensible of the orbit, graduate the light falling upon the eye by the charms of Spring. Then the senses are delighted extent of their separation, or exclude it when they with the feast that is furnished on every field and on are closed, although to a small extent light does enter every hill. The eye is sweetly delayed on every at the line of junction of the two lids. The eye- object to which turns. It is grateful to perceive lashes are hairs which border the edges of the lids, how widely, yet chastely, nature hath mixed her arranged in three or four rows. Their direction is colours and painted her robe; how beautifully she curved; those from the upper lid proceeding upwards, hath scattered her blossoms and flung her odours. and those from the under lid downwards. Their We listen with joy to the melody she hath awakened length and fulness varies in different individuals; their in the groves, and catch health from the pure and colour is generally that of the eyebrow, and their tepid gales that blow from the mountains. purpose is that of an additional screen to the eye. When the Summer exhibits the whole force of The lachrymal ducts in which tears are secreted, in active nature, and shines in full beauty and splendour, their usual healthy and natural state, supply the eye when the succeeding season offers its purple stores with moisture, which is spread over its surface by and golden grain, or displays its blended and softened means of the eyelids: these ducts are situated a tints; when the Winter puts on its sullen aspect, little within the nose.

and brings stillness and repose, affording a respite

from the labours which have occupied the preceding REVOLUTIONS OF THE SEASONS.

months, inviting us to reflection, and compensating

for the want of attractions abroad by fire-side delights I solitary court

and home-felt joys. In all this interchange and The inspiring breeze, and meditate upon the book

variety we find reason to acknowledge the wise and Of nature, ever open; aiming thence,

benevolent care of the God of the seasons. We are Warm from the heart, to learn the moral song,

passing from the finer to the ruder portions of the Persons of reflection and sensibility contemplate year. . The sun emits a fainter beam, and the sky is with interest the scenes of nature. The changes of

frequently overcast. The garden and fields have the year impart a colour and character to their

become a waste, and the forests have shed their

verdant honours. The hills are no more enlivened thoughts and feelings. When the seasons walk their round, when the earth buds, the corn ripens, and the by the bleating of flocks, and the woodland no longer leaf falls, not only are the senses impressed, but the resounds with the song of birds. In these changes mind is instructed; the heart is touched with senti

we see evidences of our instability, and images of

our transitory state. ment, the fancy amused with visions. To a lover of nature and of wisdom, the vicissitude of seasons

So flourishes and fades majestic man. conveys a proof and exhibition of the wise and bene- Our life is compared to a falling leaf. When we volent contrivance of the Author of all things. are disposed to count on protracted years, to defer

When suffering the inconvenience of the ruder any serious thoughts of futurity, and to extend our parts of the year we may be tempted to wonder plans through a long succession of seasons, the why this rotation is necessary,—why we could not be spectacle of the fading, many-coloured woods, and constantly gratified with vernal bloom and fragrance, the naked trees, affords a solitary admonition of our or Summer beauty and profusion. We imagine that, frailty. It should teach us to fill the short year of in a world of our creation, there would always be a life, or that portion of it which may be allotted to blessing in the air, and flowers and fruits on the us, with useful employments and harmless pleasures; earth. The chilling blast and driving snow, the deso- to practise that industry, activity, and order, which lated field, withered foliage, and naked tree, should the course of the natural world is constantly make no part of the scenery which we would pro- preaching. duce. A little thought, however, is sufficient to show Let not the passions blight the intellect 'in the the folly, if not impiety, of such distrust in the spring of its advancement, nor indolence nor vice appointments of the great Creator.

canker the promise of the heart in the blossom. The succession and contrast of the seasons give Then shall the summer of life be adorned with moral scope to that care and foresight, diligence and in beauty, the autumn yield a harvest of wisdom and dustry, which are essential to the dignity and enjoy- virtue, and the winter of age be cheered with pleasment of human beings, whose happiness is connected ing reflections of the past, and bright hopes of the with the exertion of their faculties. With our present future.--Monthly Anthology constitution and state, in which impressions on the senses enter so much into our pleasures and pains, and the vivacity of our sensations is affected by com

The works of nature, and the works of revelation, display parison, the uniformity and continuance of a perpe- religion to mankind in characters so large and visible, that tual Spring would greatly impair its pleasing effect the first principles and most necessary parts of it, and upon our feelings.

from thence penetrate (into those infinite depths filled with The present distribution of the several parts of the the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. --LOCKE,

ON THE PLEASURE OF ACQUIRING KNOW- of the wise in every former age, --is, perhaps, of all LEDGE.

the distinctions of human understanding, the most In every period of life, the acquisition of knowledge honourable and grateful. is one of the most pleasing employments of the When we look back upon the great men who have human mind. But in youth, there are circumstances gone before us in every part of glory, we feel our which make it productive of higher enjoyment. It eye turn from the career of war and of ambition, and is then that everything has the charm of novelty; involuntarily rest upon those who have displayed the that curiosity and fancy are awake; and that the great truths of religion, who have investigated the heart swells with the anticipations of future eminence laws of social welfare, or extended the sphere of huand utility. Even in those lower branches of instruc- man knowledge. These are honours, we feel, which tion which we call mere accomplishments, there is have been gained without a crime, and which can be something always pleasing to the young in their ac-enjoyed without remorse. They are honours, also, quisition. They seem to become every well educated which can never die,—which can shed lustre upon person; they adorn, if they do not dignify humanity; the humblest head,—and to which the young of every and, what is far more, while they give an elegant succeeding age will look up, as their brighest incenemployment to the hours of leisure and relaxation, tives to the pursuit of virtuous fame.--Alison. they afford a means of contributing to the purity and innocence of domestic life. But in the acquisition of knowledge of the higher

THE FEATHER OF A PEACOCK. kind,—in the hours when the young gradually begin In its embryo the feather of a peacock is little more the study of the laws of nature, and of the faculties than a bladder containing a fluid, while every one of the human mind, or of the magnificent revelations knows the general structure of those long ones which of the Gospel, there is a pleasure of a sublimer form the train. The star is painted on a great numnature. The cloud, which in their infant years, ber of small feathers, associated in a regular plane ; seemed to cover nature from their view, begins gra- as those have found their way from the root, through dually to resolve. The world in which they are this long space of three feet, without error of arrangeplaced, opens with all its wonders upon their eye ; ment or pattern, in more millions of feathers than their powers of attention and observation seem to imagination can conceive. If this is sufficiently expand with the scene before them; and, while they wonderful, the examination of each fibre of this see, for the first time, the immensity of the universe canvass (to adopt this phrase,) will much increase of God, and mark the majestic simplicity of those the wonder. Taking one-half of the star, the places laws by which its operations are conducted, they feel and proportions of the several colours differ in each as if they were awakened to a higher species of being, of those, as do their lengths and obliquities, yet a and admitted into nearer intercourse with the Author single picture is produced, including ten outlines, of Nature.

which form also many irregular yet unvarying curves. It is this period, accordingly, more than all others, And, further, the opposed half corresponds in every that determines our hopes or fears of the future fate thing; while this complicated picture is not painted of the young.

To feel no joy in such pursuits; to after the tex is formed, but each fibre takes its li-ten carelessly to the voice which brings such mag- place ready painted, yet never failing to produce the nificent instruction ; to see the veil raised which con- pattern. If this is chance, the coloured threads of ceals the counsels of the Deity, and to show no a tapestry might as well unite by chance to produce emotion at the discovery, are symptoms of a weak a picture; while every annual renewal is equally and torpid spirit, -of a mind unworthy of the ad accurate, as it has been in every such animal since l'antages it possesses, and fitted only for the humility the creation. And whatever the other chances may of sensual and ignoble pleasure. Of those, on the be, enormous as they are against the hypothesis, this contrary, who distinguish themselves by the love of further number cannot be evaded, because it would knowledge,who follow with ardour the career that be to abandon the very principle of chance, to say that is open to them, we are apt to form the most honour- renewal, or perpetuation, were governed by laws. If able presages. It is the character which is natural to the system is to mean what it pretends to do, every pouth, and which, therefore, promises well of their feather that ever existed must have been the result of maturity. We foresee for them, at least, a life of pure fortunate chances. This would be enough, had this and virtuous enjoyment; and we are willing to anti-object not demanded the arithmetical calculation ; cipate no common share of future usefulness and for, omitting all else, who would even hope to resplendour.

produce the star from the same separated materials, In the second place, the pursuits of knowledge under any number of chances ? lead not only to happiness but to honour. Length But the entire analysis I need not make in words; of days is in her right hand, and in her left are riches it can be done by any one on the subject itself, and • and honour.” It is honourable to excel even in the with a more satisfactory effect. Let him take each most trifling species of knowledge, in those which fibre separately, note the number of the colours, can amuse only the passing hour. It is more honour their gradations, the very different modes of those on able to excel in those different branches of science the different fibres, and the very different places of which are connected with the liberal professions of those colours on them, with the still more remark. ile, and which tend so much to the dignity and well-able differences in those fragments of the many outbeing of humanity. It is the means of raising the lines included in the star. The painter, who best most obscure to esteem and attention ; it opens to the knows the difficulty of producing gradations on even just ambition of youth, some of the most distin- a fixed plane, will best also conceive the impossiguished and respected situations in society; and it bility of producing, under any number of chances, places them there, with the consoling reflection, that it such a coloured plane, from a hundred separated is to their own industry and labour, in the providence fibres previously painted, or even of thus producing of God, that they are alone indebted for them. But, the much easier outlines. to excel in the higher attainments of knowledge,—to But who will compute this unwieldy sum? The be distinguished in those greater pursuits which have result alone, the figures expressing the chances Commanded the attention, and exhausted the abilities | against one, that this little object was not the pro

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duce of chance, would fill a page; it is equivalent | the edges of the great planes produced by the first to infinitude against one. Suffice it here, that I breaking, by which means the white coating of the inquire of the probability of simply replacing, by flint is removed in the form of small scales, and the chance, the disarranged and intermixed fibres of the mass of flint itself laid bare, as shown in fig. 5; after star in their original places or order ; while, even then, I need not take more than the half, as the

Fig. 6.

Fig.5. result of the total is equally unnecessary and unwieldy. It would be a purposeless parade of arithmetic to detail those figures ; if the reader will place a unit before sixty-four zeros, he will have a sufficient conception of these chances for the present purpose. And chances far short of this have ever been held competent to any proof.

this he continues to chip off similar scaly portions [MACCULLOCH on the Attributes of God.]

from the pure mass of flints as A A A, fig. 6, which is

a cross section or plan of fig. 5, the shaded portions THE MANUFACTURE OF GUN-FLINTS.

showing the points removed at each blow. These

portions are nearly an inch and a half wide, two inches The art of forming Gun-flints was formerly kept a

and a half long, and their thickness in the middle is profound secret, at least in France and Germany. about one-sixth of an inch: they are slightly convex The kind of stone employed, is that species of silex, below, and consequently leave in the part of the fint or flint, which is found in irregularly shaped lumps from which they are separated, a space slightly concave, in the chalk formations of the earth.

longitudinally bordered by two rather projecting The masses of flint which are best fitted for the straight lines or ridges. These ridges produced by the purpose, consist of those of a convex surface, ap- separation of the two scales, must naturally constitute proaching to globular, the knobbed and branched fints nearly the middle of the subsequent piece; and such being generally full of imperfections. The best flint scales alone as have their ridges thus placed in the nodules are in general from two to twenty pounds in middle are fit for gun-flints. In this manner the weight; they should be unctuous, or rather shining, workman continues to split or chip the mass of flint internally, with a grain so fine as to be imperceptible in various directions, until the defects usually found to the eye.

The colour should be uniform in the in the interior, render it impossible to make the fracsame nodule, and may vary from honey-yellow to a ture required, or until the piece is reduced too much blackish-brown; it is necessary that the fracture to be easily broken. should be smooth and equal, and somewhat conchoi

To shape the gun-flint out of these scales, he dal, hollowed like a shell

, and should be partially selects such only as possess the requisite form ; to transparent at the thin edges.

ascertain this, it is necessary to understand the parts Four tools are necessary in the manufacture of to be distinguished in a gun-Aint. These are five in Fig. I.

Fig. 2.

number; A the sloping facet, B B the
sides, c the back, D the under sur-

face, which should be rather con-
vex, and F the upper facet, between
the tapering edge and the back.

In order to fashion the flint, those
scales are selected which contain at least one of the
ridges F or A; he fixes on any tapering border of the

scale to form the striking edge; he then divides the fints. 1. An iron hammer, fig. 1, with a square head, scale into pieces, of the proper width of the flint, by not more than two pounds in weight, and seven or

means of his chisel; this tool is driven into a solid eight inches in length: 2. a hammer of well-hardened block of wood, with one of its edges upwards;

that steel, fig. 2, with two points, a handle seven inches part of the flint is placed across this edge where the long, and from ten to sixteen ounces in weight: 3. a separation is intended to take place, and a blow from disk hammer, or roller, fig. 3, like a solid wheel or the roulette, or round hammer, on the upper surface, Fig. 3.

Fig. 4.

divides it as cleanly as if it were cut; the back of the flint is then made square by the same means.

The last operation is to trim or give the flint a smooth and equal edge; this is done by turning the stone and placing the edge of its tapering edge on the chisel, and striking it a few blows with the round

hammer. cylinder, two inches and one-third in diameter, and not exceeding twelve ounces in weight; it is made of steel not hardened, and has a handle six inches long.

THE VIRNAL AND AUTUMNAL CROCUS. 4. a chisel, fig. 4, tapering and bevelled at both ends, Say, what impels, amidst surrounding snow which should be made of steel not hardened, six,

Congealed, the crocus' flamy bud to grow; seven, or eight inches long, and two inches wide.

Say, what retards amidst the Summer's blaze With these tools the flints are formed in the following

The autumnal bulb till pale declining days ?

The God of Seasoys! whose pervading power manner :

Controls the sun, or sheds the fleecy shower; The workman, seated on the ground, places the He bids each flower his quick’ning word obey, nodule of flint on his left thigh, and applies slight

Or to each lingering bloom enjoins delay. strokes with the square hammer to divide it into

WHITE of Selborne. smaller pieces of about a pound and a half in weight, with broad surfaces and an almost even fracture. He

LONDON: then holds the piece of flint in his left hand, not sup

JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND. ported, and strikes with the pointed hammer on



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CONDITION OF THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH IN THE elder sister, the Lady Mary, was first to be agreed REIGN OF MARY-HER ARREST AT ASHRIDGE, withal; for as long as the said Lady Mary lived, she AND REMOVAL TO LONDON.

for her part could challenge no right at all.” The death of King Edward the Sixth, which oc- The brief reign of Lady Jane Grey ended on the curred on the 6th of July, 1553, was concealed for 20th of July; and towards the close of that month, two days by the Protector, John Dudley, Duke of as Queen Mary advanced at the head of her army Northumberland, who was desirous of taking mea- towards London, the Princess Elizabeth went into sures to secure the succession of his daughter-in-law, Essex to meet her, with a large cavalcade of knights Lady Jane Grey, in conformity with the will which and ladies ; Stow says that she was accompanied Edward had been induced to make, upon his death-by one thousand horse, of knights, ladies, gentlemen, bed, setting aside his sisters Mary and Elizabeth. It and their servants.” Four days afterwards she rode was important for the protector's object, that he with the Queen to the Tower, through the richly should have the persons of the two sisters in his decked streets of the city, amid the discharges of hands; and with this view he wrote letters in the ordnance and the acclamations of the people ; seven king's name requiring their immediate attendance. hundred and forty velvet-coated nobles and gentleMary had nearly fallen into the snare; she was men preceded them, and one hundred and eighty journeying to town when a secret messenger met her ladies followed them. As an illustration, indeed, of with a private communication of Edward's death and the intimacy which at this period subsisted between the machinations of Northumberland. She imme- the two sisters, it is related by Fox the martyrologist, diately turned her horse towards the eastern counties, that “ Queen Mary when she was first queen, before and never rested till she had reached her castellated she was crowned, would go no whither but would mansion of Kenninghall, in Norfolk, which lay at have her (the Princess Elizabeth] by the hand, and too great a distance from the metropolis to be sud- send for her to dinner and supper.' According to denly surprised. Elizabeth remained tranquil at her Holinshed, when Queen Mary rode through the city residence in Hertfordshire, where she was waited on towards Westminster, upon the occasion of her coroby Northumberland, who apprized her of Edward's nation in October 1553, the chariot in which she sat death and the accession of the Lady Jane, and pro- was followed by another " having a covering of cloth posed to her that she should resign her own title to of silver all white, and six horses trapped with the the crown in consideration of a sum of money and like, wherein sat the Lady Elizabeth and the Lady certain lands which should be assigned to her. With Anne of Cleve." According to the Spanish ambascharacteristic prudence Elizabeth replied, “ that her sador then in England, Elizabeth carried the crown VOL. XII,


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which was used on that occasion ; and that func- / suppressed, certain members of the council were sent tionary reported to his court, that the princess to Ashridge with a party of horse, with orders to whispered to Noailles, the French ambassador, that bring the princess to London, " either quicke or it was very heavy, and that she was tired with carrying dead,” The messengers at their sodaine and unit; and that the Frechman was heard to answer that provided commyng,” to use the expressions of John she must be patient, and when soon placed on her Fox, the martyrologist, found her sore sicke in own head it would seem lighter. “As the Spaniards," her bed, and very feeble and weak of body," says Mr. Sharon Turner, were at some distance, Wbither when they came (continues the same historian,) and could not have heard a private whisper very ascending up to her grace's privie chamber, they willed perfectly, we may assume that the actual speech was, one of her ladyes whom they met, to declare unto her grace, ‘if it were on your own head it would not seem so.'

that there were cortaine come from the court which had a But the situation of Elizabeth was soon altered. message from the queene. Her grace havyng knowledge When the design of Queen Mary to restore the then very sicke, and the night farre spent, (which was at

thereof, was right glad of their commyng; howbeit, being Roman Catholic religion became apparent, the eyes of ten of the clocke) she requested them by the messenger, the whole Protestant party were anxiously turned that they woulde resort thyther in the mornyng. To this towards the princess, who was well known to be they answered, and by the said messenger sent worde attached to the reformed faith. This circumstance againe, that they must needes see her, and would so doo, rendered her an object of jealousy and even of in what case soever she were. Whereat the lady being fear to the queen. The Venetian ambassador de agast, went to shewe her grace their wordes; but they scribes Mary as being “a prey to the hatred which hastily folowing her, came rushyng as soone as she unto

her grace's chamber unbydden. she bears my Lady Elizabeth, and which has its At whose sodaine.commyng into her bed-chamber, her source in the recollection of the wrongs she experi- grace being not a little amased, said unto them, Is the enced on account of her mother, and in the fact that hast such that it might not have pleased you to come all eyes and hearts are turned towards my Lady to-morrow in the mornyng? Elizabeth as successor to the throne.”

They made answere, that they were right sory to see her

in that case. And I (quoth shee,) am not glad to see you Towards the close of 1553, Queen Mary was very here at this tyne of the night. Whereunto thoy answered, earnest in her endeavours to induce her sister to

that they came from the queene to doo their message and practise the observances of the Roman Catholic duetio, which was to this effect, that the queone's pleasure religion. Elizabeth refused to comply; and her was, that shee should be at London the seventh day of that enemies then suggested that she should be imprisoned. present moneth. Whereunto shoe saide, --Certes, no erea“I do not doubt," wrote the French ambassador to

iure more glad then I to come to her majestie, beyng right

sorye that I am not in case at this tyme to wayte on her, as his court, “ that her obstinacy will conduct her to

you yourselves doo see and can wol testife. the Tower soon after parliament meets, if things be Indeede we see it true (quoth they), that you doo say to resolved on as I think they will be." But Mary which we are very sorye. · Albeit, we let you to underpreferred endeavouring to compel her sister to con- stande, that our commission is suoh, and so strayneth us, form. Elizabeth persisted in her refusal ; and her that we must needes bryng you with us either quieke or conscientious preference of her own faith was imputed dead. Whereat, shee beyng amased, sorowfully said, that

their commission was very sore; but yet, notwithstanding to seditious exhortations. The French ambassador,

shee hoped it to be otherwise and not so strayt.Yes, after relating that the princess would not hear mass verily, sayd they, nor accompany her sister to the chapel, in spite of all In conclusion, they wylled her to prepare agaynst the the remonstrances of the queen and her lords, adds, mornyng at nyne of the clocke to goe with them, declaring “ It is feared that she is counselled and fortified in that they had brought with them the queene's lytter for this opinion by some of the great, and that by these her. After much talke, the messengers declaring there means some new troubles may be preparing.” Again their chamber, being enterteyned and cheered as apper

was no prolongyng of tymes and dayes, so departed to shortly afterwards he thus writes :-" The obstacle teyned to their worships. of Madame Elizabeth is not a little to be feared as

On the following morning, at the hour prescribed, up to this time she has been not at all willing to go Elizabeth was led forth for her journey, very faint to the mass, Last Saturday and Sunday the queen and feeble, and “in suche case that shee was redy caused her to be preached to and entreated by all to swound three or foure tymes" between them. the great men of her council, who only drew from

“ What should I speake here," exclaims John Fox, her at last a very rough answer.Again was her

“ that cannot well be expressed ; what a heavy house refusal imputed to disloyal machinations; and it was

there was to beholde the unreverend and doulefull expected that the queen would change her household dealyng of these men, but especially the carefull and even confine her in prison.

feare and captivitie of their innocent lady and In the beginning of the month of December, maistresse." Elizabeth obtained permission to leave the court and

Although Elizabeth was able to travel "with lyfe,” retire to her house at Ashridge, in Buckinghamshire.

yet her illness was so severe, that it was not until Suspicion, however, still attached to her, and she the fourth night of her journey that she reached was living every hour surrounded with peril.

Highgate. Here being very sick, she tarried that As the intentions of Mary (says Mr. Sharon Turner,) night and the next day; “ during which time of her to bring back popery became visible, the greatest discon- abode,” says Fox, “ there came many pursuivants tents began to arise, with an idea in some naturally arising from Henry's statutes against his daughter, that the young I cannot tell." When the princess entered London,

and messengers from the court, but for what purpose queen of Scots was the rightful heiress of the crown. the danger to Elizabeth arose from the larger portion of great multitudes of people came frocking about her the dissatisfied forming conspiracies to dispossess her sister,

litter which she ordered to be opened for the purpose and to place her as a Protestant princess on the throne. of showing herself. The remainder of her coming

into London on this occasion is thus described in an Early in the year 1554 the rash and unfortunate insurrection of Sir Thomas Wyatt broke out.

old manuscript chronicle. Although Elizabeth had no concern in this conspi.

The same tyme and daye, between four and fyre of the racy, it involved her in much trouble, and caused through Smithfielde untoo Westminster, with C relvet

clocke at night, my lady Elizabeth's grace came to London her much personal suffering. On the 5th of Fe

cotts after her grace. And her grace rod in a charytt, bruary, immediately after the insurrection had been opyn on both sydes, and her grace (had) ryding after her a

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