our casual mention of a will, or of some trans- sickness, whether in relation to one's self, or action to follow our death, introduces an awe and constraint into conversation." to others; in the former case, as conducting to self-contempt, if not self-despair, and in the latter, as debarring one especially from the visits of children, "the brightest, if not the tenderest, angels of the sick And again, in reference to dear friends who have felt with her all her feelings, and have now gone before her to rest, what beautiful thoughts are these! If such de- room." She shows well, how widely friends partures form, for the healthful, a link with in health may err in the estimation of the the Unseen, how much more do they heigh- sufferer's fortitude-at one time imagining ten the invalid's anticipations of future things: "Perhaps the familiarity of the idea of death is by nothing so much enhanced to us as by the departure before us of those who have sympathized in our prospect. The close do in health. do not conceive of now. It seems that all power of endurance has passed away, because, through intense agony the soul is made to "cleave to the dust;" and at another time giving him credit for sublime patience, when he had really no cause or temptation to feel otherwise. She de mestic interest thus imparted to that other nies, from deep experience, the possibility life is such as I certainly never conceived of of becoming inured to pain, so as to disrewhen in health, and such as I observe people gard it; but she would have it encountered but the other day that I was receiving letters by antagonistic forces, and thus subdued of sympathy and solace, and also of religious by the power of ideas. An omnipotent and philosophical investigation as to how life host of these she can call up at will, by her here and hereafter appeared to me; letters books and pictures, and their associations. which told of activity, of labors, and journey- From her couch she has but to turn her ings, which humbled me by a sense of idleness eyes to the wall above, and behold "the and uselessness, while they spoke of humbling consolations of eighteen centuries," in one feelings as regarding the privileges of my seclusion. All this is as if it were yesterday; and now, these correspondents have been gone for years. For years we have thought of them as knowing the grand secret, as familiarized with those scenes we are for ever prying into, while I lie no wiser (in such a comparison) than when they endeavoured to learn somewhat of these matters from me. And besides these close and dear companions, what departures are continually taking place! Every new year there are several friends, acquaintances, or strangers-who shake their heads when I am mentioned, in friendly regret at another year opening before me without prospect of health-who sends me comforts or luxuries, or words of sympathy, amidst the pauses of their busy lives; and before another year comes round, they have dropped out of the world-have learned quickly far more than I can acquire by my leisure-and from being merely outside my little spot of life, have passed to above and beyond it. Little ones who speculated on me with awe-youthful ones who ministered to me with pity-busy and important persons, who gave a cordial but passing sigh to the lot of the idle and helpless; some of these have outstripped me, me looking wistfully after them. Such incidents make the future at least as real and familiar to me as the outside world; and every permanent invalid will say the same, and we must not be wondered at if we speak of that great interest of ours oftener, and with more familiarity than others use." In the inquiry on temper, the writer searchingly examines the causes and modifications of the irritability produced by portrait-the CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR of Scheffer; and the fullness of her varied emotions she gives us in this, our last, ex tract: "See what force this is, in comparison with others that are tendered for our solace! One and another, and another of our friends comes to us with an earnest pressing upon us of the hope of relief,' that talisman which looks so well till its virtues are tried! They tell us of renewed health and activity-of what it will were. be to enjoy ease again-to be useful again- and death are in burst in, and take up the word! What have we not to say, from the abundance of our hearts, of that benignity-that transcendent wisdom-our willingness-our eagerness-our sweet serenity-till we are silenced by our unutterable joy." Our failing space constrains us to pass over the two remaining essays, with but a brief allusion. They relate to the perils and pains of invalidism, and its gains and privileges, respectively; and are fully equal We reluctantly close this beautiful volume, only to make it the frequent companion of our own leisure hours. It needs no further exposition, and what we have extracted will sufficiently plead its cause. We have only to add that the gifted writer is, we understand, Harriet Martineau. to any of the preceding papers. Our readers will gather from our quotations the character of the work, which is of the purest kind. It is not a volume to be read through hastily, and then laid aside; but one at once requiring, and repaying, the severest study. The mind of the writer is plainly of that stamp, which Bacon calls "full;" and her sentences are weighty in thoughts-thoughts which create thoughts. It was a notion of Shelley's, that feeling so lengthens out life, that the man of talent who dies at thirty is immeasurably older than the dullard who drags on his unmarked existence to threescore. He has, empha- THE ORIGIN of the HummING-BIRDS. tically, lived more. If we might reason similarly, the writer of these essays has lived centuries. Each hour has brought its thought-life with it, and emotions sufficient for years; and hours upon hours have gone over thus with her in her solitary ⚫ chamber, and she has lived them all. In the present volume we have the records of a few. She possesses, almost in intensity, that lovely, yet how fearful, gift, the capability of suffering; and she has largely used it. Yet her experiences have ever brought some good with them, vivifying the heart, not hardening it; and when they depart, she invariably discovers that they have left a blessing behind them. We have thought for many a day-and the book before us revives the impression -that more true heroism is needed for a severe sickness, than for mingling in the terrors of a battle-field. With life beating strong in his pulses, and health careering in his veins, and now half-maddened by the braying of pibroch or clarion, the soldier rushes against his foeman-determined to "do or die." If he possesses a minute to think, his memories are thronged with the vivas of his countrymen, and the undying remembrances of generations to come; and danger, and wounds, and death are disregarded, when he feels that his name shall yet be a household word. But oh, how changed is every thing, when with nerves unstrung, and health-that life of life-departed, we have to encounter the enemy amidst the heart-depressing silence of the sick-room! The trial to be under gone is not a whit the less fiery, while the power and stimulant to endure it are wanting. Blessed be God for it, a new series of helps then comes in; and when the sun of this world has gone down, it is not darkness rules omnipotent, but the moon and stars arise in heaven to guide the wanderer. From the Dublin University Magazine. WHEN Saint Patrick preached in the Emerald Isle, Were filled with envy and spleen. So they went where the water-lilies float, Merrily now that little fleet Boldly the fairies have taken their seat, They gave to their Queen the largest flower, The eddying ripples that bore them along, A murmuring melody played; The waters are hurrying away to the south, And float on the ocean wide. Though many a day and night they sailed, That magic spell has banished the night, Is following in their wake. The fairies have reached the coral strand, They fly away in a merry band the pleasant citron bowers. And the humming-birds seen in that sunny clime, Н. В. ANIMAL MAGNETISM: PREVISION. From the Spectator. [Skeptical as we are on this subject, we have no hesitation in printing, without comment, the following case; which proceeds from a gentleman well known to us for habits of careful observation and for scrupulous veracity. We admit it as a record of a singular fact, whatever may be the explanation of which it is susceptible.] TO THE EDITOR OF THE SPECTATOR. Clapham New Park, 18th January, 1844. DEAR SIR: - Puzzled by the conflicting statements put forward on all sides regarding Animal Magnetism, I resolved a year or two back, to seek by personal experiment a solu tion which I had in vain endeavored to arrive at from the opinions of others. The result convinced me, not only that Animal Magnetism is a truth, but that it is one which, although productive of danger in the hands of inexperienced persons, may be turned to the happiest account as a remedy for many human ills. Have you courage to give insertion to the following case? It is so singular that I can hardly expect any one to receive it without considerable hesitation; and yet, as I am able to pledge myself to the strict accuracy of its details, and to the respectability of station and high moral worth of the parties to whom it refers, I feel desirous that it should be widely known. On Monday the 25th December, I magnetized Mrs. H-, a married lady, twenty-eight years of age. She had been magnetized at intervals during the preceding year, altogether about six times. Upon each occasion she had manifested some degree of lucidity; and in the only instance when the experiment was tried, she had answered readily to the action of my hand upon the various phrenological organs. On the present occasion I magnetized her solely for the improvement of her health, as she was suffering from weakness and a pain in the breast, the result of a confinement eight weeks back. In other respects her health was good. In less than two minutes from the commencement of the magnetizing process, she passed into a state of somnambulism. I then addressed her-"How do you feel?" She made no answer. I repeated the question two or three times, without success; but in a few moments she exclaimed, with an expression of great anguish-"Oh, pretty well: but I shall soon be dreadfully ill." "When shall you be ill? now, while you are being magnetized?"-" No, in two days time." "At what hour?"-"Three in the afternoon." "Can nothing be done to avert it?" -" Nothing." "What will it result from? an accident, or natural causes?" - "Natural causes." "Can you tell me any thing that should be done? Will magnetism afford you service?" -"Yes: it cannot avert the attack, but it may do much good. It will be a spasmodic attack, and after a little while it will extend to the heart. The heart will not be originally affected; but the violence of the suffering will cause it to be affected sympathetically, and there will then be danger. Magnetism may remove this." "And will it not remove the other suffer ings?"" No." Then, after a pause, she added-" it cannot remove them entirely; but I think it may mitigate them." "At what time after the attack should I commence the magnetic passes?"-" In about half an hour." "How long will the attack last?"-" From an hour to an hour and a quarter. It will be dreadfully severe; but it will not prove fatal. I shall have more of them. I have much suf fering to undergo." "When will the next attack take place?" "I cannot see." "What description of passes should I make on Wednesday, in order to relieve the heart?" -"Commence just under the heart, and make long passes to the feet." "During what time am I to continue them?" - "About five minutes. You must also make passes across my back, if possible." "How long will it be before you cease to suffer from these attacks ?"-"About eight months." "Will magnetism benefit you during that time?"-" Materially." She still manifested much apprehension and anguish. "Come," I said, "you must not be sad. I am sure that you can bear pain with patience; and, as it will all end well, you must not give way to despondency." "Ah!" she exclaimed, "I think of my children, and my husband-I know what he will feel." I now ceased speaking to her for a minute or two: afterwards I said, "You must tell me if you desire to say any thing more, or if you would rather sleep?"- " I think you had better awaken me." I demagnetized her accordingly. She awoke instantly, and (as on all former occasions) totally unconscious of having uttered a single word. She said, however, that she was not so much refreshed as usual, and that her head felt as if she had been engaged in the most intense thought. To relieve this, I magnetized her again for a few minutes; and when she was again awakened, she stated herself perfectly restored. I then took my leave; previously agreeing with Mr. H that no intimation should be given to his wife of what had passed. On the following day, I saw Mr. H-; when he stated, that during the preceding evening his wife had enjoyed excellent spirits, and that she still continued in a satisfactory state. On the Wednesday morning, he told me that he had left her in apparently good depression which almost caused him to apprehend that her prediction would be verified. She was herself, however, free from any anticipation of evil. health, excepting that she seemed in a state of circumstance of my having called; and I left In the afternoon I proceeded to her house, intending to reach it about half-past three, which according to her prediction would be half an hour after the commencement of the attack, the time at which she had stated that magnetism should be resorted to. Having, her in the full belief that the visit had been an accidental one. Since the above occasion she has been magnetized several times; and she now predicts with rigid accuracy the state of her health for several consecutive days. On the 7th of this month, she announced a slight attack to occur at eleven o'clock in the morning of the 11th, which would not extend to the heart, and another severe attack at three P. M. on the 15th, however, little expectation that my services in which that organ would again be compromwould be required, (since I was inclined to re-ised. On both occasions the prediction was gard her forebodings merely as the result of a momentary sadness,) I did not pay any particular attention to punctuality, and it was twenty-two minutes to four when when I arrived. I found her extended upon a sofa, in the severest agony. Her pain drew from her repeated cries, and I learned that she had been seized with a violent spasmodic affection. I immediately commenced making the passes below the heart, which she had directed during her somnambulism on the preceding Monday. "Does that give you relief?"-" Oh yes; it greatly relieves the heart." I then raised her to a sitting posture, and commenced the passes across her back. "Oh! that gives still more relief-it takes it entirely away from the left side; but the general pain remains the same." She sank, apparently still suffering most se in the epigastric verely from attacks of pain verely region, which seemed to threaten suffocation. She began, however, after I had made a few passes, to experience some short intervals of ease. During one of them I asked, "At what time were you attacked?"-"Half an hour or three-quarters of an hour before you came; nearer three-quarters of an hour." "Was it sudden?"-"Quite. I was in the passage, and was obliged to call one of the servants to help me to this room. It seemed to suspend animation. In about twenty minutes, or more, it attacked my heart; the blood seemed to fill my head, and I was much alarmed. It continued till you came; my sufferings were dreadful: but now the pains seem no longer to affect the heart." She still continued to experience paroxysms, which I was only able partially to relieve. At intervals she exclaimed, "Oh, how fortunate you happened to call. I feel as if you had saved me." She complained of fulness of the head, and directed me to make two or three passes over her forehead; which gave her instant relief. At length, at about six or seven minutes past four, the pains seemed rapidly to subside. She fell into a calm sleep, her countenance as. suming an expression of perfect composure; and from this, at about twenty minutes past four, she awakened in good spirits, and, although greatly exhausted, perfectly free from pain. She continued to dwell on the "fortunate" fulfilled even in its minutest particulars. I may mention, in conclusion, that until the attack above described, she had never experienced any indisposition in which the heart was supposed to be in the slightest degree affected. I am, dear Sir, very faithfully yours, S. HYMN TO THE SEA. From the Dublin University Magazine. ROLL on, roll on, thou "melancholy sea," Blue sea, I chide thee not, though I am sad, And thought their music ever blithe and gay; Roll on, roll on, ye light and sportive waves, Bear on that barque, and take her safe to port, Change not to rudeness thy now graceful sport : Too oft our lov'd ones find an ocean bed- MISCELLANY. ORIGIN OF THE NAMES OF THE AMERICAN STATES.-Maine was so called as early as 1638, from Maine in France, of which Henrietta Maria, Queen of England, was at that time proprietor. New Hampshire was the name given to the territory conveyed by the Plymouth Company to Capt. J. FLAXMAN, R. A.-An advertisement in our usual columns intimates the contemplation of a somewhat tardy act of national justice and gratitude, by the erection of a portrait-statue to the memory of one of our greatest sculptors, John Flaxman. Like all the men of the highest genius, though to a certain degree appreciated in his lifetime, far inferior artists carried off the more ster John Mason, by patent, November 7, 1639, with ling proofs of public consideration, and he existed reference to the patentee, who was Governor of to produce works which give him immortality. Portsmouth, in Hampshire, England. Vermont was so called by the inhabitants in their declaration of independence, January 16, 1777, from the French verd, green, and mont, mountain. Massachusettsfrom a tribe of Indians in the neighborhood of Boston. "I have learned," says Roger Wil. liams, " that Massachusetts was so called from the Blue Hills." Rhode Island was named in 1644, in reference to the Island of Rhodes in the Mediterranean. Connecticut was so called from the Indian name of its principal river; New York in reference to the Duke of York and Albany, to whom this territory was granted. Pennsylvania was named in 1681, after William Penn. Delaware, in 1703, from Delaware Bay, on which it lies, and which received its name from Lord De la War, who died in this bay. Maryland, in honor of Henrietta Maria, Queen of Charles I, in his patent to Lord Baltimore, June 30, 1632 Virginia was named in 1584, after Elizabeth, the virgin Queen of England. Carolina, by the French in 1564, in honor of King Charles IX. of France. Georgia, in 1772, in honor of King George III. Alabama, in 1817, from its principal river. Mississippi, in 1800, from its western boundary. Mississippi is said to denote Kie, whole river, that is, the river formed by the union of many. Louisiana, so called in honor of Louis XVI. of France. Tennesee, in 1796, from its principal river; the word Tennesee is said to signify a curved spoon. Kentucky, in 1782, from its principal river. Illinois, in 1809, from its principal river. The word is said to signify the river of men. Indiana, in 1802, from the American Indians. Ohio, in 1802, from its southern boundary. Missouri, in 1821, from its principal river. Michigan, named in 1805, from the lake on its borders. Arkansas, in 1819, from its principal river. Florida was so called by Juan Ponse le Leon, in 1572, because it was discovered on Easter Sunday; in Spanish, Pascus Florida. --Simmonds's Colonial Magazine. AN EXPLOSION OF SUBTERRANEOUS WATER took place lately in the district of Vizeu, in Portugal, by which the soil was torn up, and earth and stones flung to a great height into the air, for the distance of more than a league, between the small river Oleiros and the Douro. All the cultivated land over which the water flowed was destroyed, and in many places it created ravines forty feet in depth, and thirty fathoms wide. It carried away and shattered to fragments in its course, which was of extreme rapidity, no fewer than fifty wind and water mills, choked the Douro with rubbish, and caused the death of nine persons, including one entire family. On the same day a similar explosion took place in the mountain of Marcelim, in the same district, arising from the same source, but branching off in the direction of the river Bastanza. - Correspondent of the Times. 27* His designs and relievos were too far above the bust or figure, or fanciful trifle, to meet with the applause of the million, and the few who could judge of their worth were too few to reward their creator as he deserved. At last, however, a memorial is proposed for him, and we cannot doubt will be sufficiently supported. It is true the fine, pale, intellectual-looking man did not want for bread, but wealth was not his, and it is full time that we offered him a stone, hallowed by our feelings and admiration.-Lit. Gaz. ANCIENT MONEY. - A treasure of old silver coinage of Edward I. of England, and Roberts and Davids of Scotland, has been found in a piece of ground near Closeburn, Dumfriesshire. It is reported to amount to 10,000 coins, and the cannie folks around to have made a pleasant harvest in collecting it.-Lit. Gaz. M. GUIZOT.-M. Guizot's facility for going to sleep after extreme excitement and mental exertion is prodigious, and it is fortunate for him he is so constituted, otherwise his health would materially suffer. A minister in France ought not to be a nervous man; it is fatal to him if he is. After the most boisterous and tumultuous sittings at the Chamber, after being baited by the Opposition in the most savage manner-there is no milder expression for their excessive violencehe arrives home, throws himself upon a couch, and sinks immediately into a profound sleep, from which he is undisturbed till midnight, when proofs of the Moniteur are brought to him for inspection. Madame Guizot, who lives with her son, is upwards of 80 years of age; never was there a more vigilant, tender, nervous mother. Her husband lost his life upon the scaffold of the Revolution, and nothing can divest her of the idea but that her son will undergo the same fate. This keeps her in perpetual alarm, and whenever she hears there is to be one of those violent discussions which but too often disgrace the French Chambre des Deputés, she watches for the return of her son with the greatest anxiety and misgiving. -Court Journal. BRITISH GUIANA. From a prospectus published at the Royal Gazette office, Demerara, and forwarded to us, we learn that a society for the promotion of agriculture and commerce in that important colony is now being formed. Public rooms are to be established in Georgetown, with library, museum, and models; and premiums and grants of money are to be awarded for the advancement of every branch of agriculture, manufactures, and trade. So excellent an institution cannot fail to produce great benefits, and the wealth of the colony will enable its members to carry it on with liberality and spirit.-Lit. Gaz. |