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criticism in which it is difficult to say whether the critic most exposes the stupidity of the book, or his own absurd ignorance of astronomy. I forget the title of the work; but the means of the voyage are more deplorably ill conceived than are even the ganzas of our friend the Signor Gonzales. The adventurer, in digging the earth, happens to discover a peculiar metal for which the moon has a strong attraction, and straightway constructs of it a box, which, when cast loose from its terrestrial fastenings, flies with him, forthwith, to the satellite. The “ Flight of Thomas O'Rourke,” is a jeu ď esprit not altogether contemptible, and has been translated into German, Thomas, the hero, was, in fact, the game-keeper of an Irish peer, whose eccentricities gave rise to the tale. The “flight” is made on an eagle's back, from Hungry Hill, a lofty mountain at the end of Bantry Bay.
In these various brochures the aim is always satirical; the theme being a description of Lunarian customs as compared with ours. In none, is there any effort at plausibility in the details of the voyage itself. The writers seem, in each instance, to be utterly uninformed in respect to astronomy. In “Hans Pfaall” the design is original, inasmuch as regards an attempt at verisimilitude, in the application of scientific principles (so far as the whimsical nature of the subject would permit,) to the actual penage be. tween the earth and the moon.
THE GOLD- BUG.
What ho! what ho! this fellow is dancing mad!
All in the Wrong. MANY years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand. He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy; but a series of misfortunes had reduced him to want. To avoid the mortification consequent upon his disasters, he left New Orleans, the city of his forefathers, and took up his residence at Sullivan's Island, near Charleston, South Carolina.
This Island is a very singular one. It consists of little else than the sea sand, and is about three miles long. Its breadth at no point exceeds a quarter of a mile. - It is separated from the main land by a scarcely perceptible creek, oozing its way through a wilderness of reeds and slime, a favorite resort of the marshhen. The vegetation, as might be supposed, is scant, or at least dwarfish. No trees of any magnitude are to be seen. Near the western extremity, where Fort Moultrie stands, and where are some miserable frame buildings, tenanted, during summer, by the fugitives from Charleston dust and fever, may be found, indeed, the bristly palmetto; but the whole island, with the exception of this western point, and a line of hard, white beach on the sea. coast, is covered with a dense undergrowth of the sweet myrtle, so much prized by the horticulturists of England. The shrub here often attains the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and forms an almost impenetrable coppice, burthening the air with its fragrance.
In the inmost recesses of this coppice, not far from the eastern or more remote end of the island, Legrand had built himself a small hut, which he occupied when I first, by mere accident, made his acquaintance. This soon ripened into friendship-for there was much in the recluse to excite interest and esteem. I found him well educated, with unusual powers of mind, but infected with misanthropy, and subject to perverse moods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy. He had with him many books, but rarely employed them. His chief amusements were gun. ning and fishing, or sauntering along the beach and through the myrtles, in quest of shells or entomological specimens ;-his collection of the latter might have been envied by a Swammerdamm. In these excursions he was usually accompanied by an old negro, called Jupiter, who had been manumitted before the reverses of the family, but who could be induced, neither by threats nor by promises, to abandon what he considered his right of attendance upon the footsteps of his young “Massa Will." It is not improb. able that the relatives of Legrand, conceiving him to be somewhat unsettled in intellect, had contrived to instil this obstinacy into Jupiter, with a view to the supervision and guardianship of the wanderer.
The winters in the latitude of Sullivan's Island are seldom very severe, and in the fall of the year it is a rare event indeed when a fire is considered necessary. About the middle of October, 18, there occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilli
Just before sunset I scrambled my way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend, whom I had not visited for several weeks—my residence being, at that time, in Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the Island, while the facilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those of the present day. Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom, and getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was secreted, un-, locked the door and went in. A fine fire was blazing upon the hearth. It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one. I
threw off an overcoat, took an arm-chair by the crackling logs, and awaited patiently the arrival of my hosts.
Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial wel. come. Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to pre. pare some marsh-hens for supper. Legrand was in one of his fits-how else shall I term them ?-of enthusiasm. He had found an unknown bivalve, forming a new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and secured, with Jupiter's assistance, a scarabæus which he believed to be totally new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion on the morrow.
“ And why not to-night ?” I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, and wishing the whole tribe of scarabæi at the devil.
"Ah, if I had only known you were here !" said Legrand, “ but it's so long since I saw you; and how could I foresee that you would pay me a visit this very night of all others ? As I was coming home I met Lieutenant G- from the fort, and, very foolishly, I lent him the bug ; so it will be impossible for you to see it until the morning. Stay here to-night, and I will send Jup down for it at sunrise. It is the loveliest thing in creation !"
“ What ?—sunrise ?”
“Nonsense ! no !-the bug. It is of a brilliant gold colorabout the size of a large hickory-nut—with two jet black spots near one extremity of the back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other. The antennæ are—'
Dey aint no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin on you,” here interrupted Jupiter ; “de bug is a goole bug, solid, ebery bit of him, inside and all, sep him wing-neber feel half so hebby a bug in my
life.” “Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly, it seemed to me, than the case demanded, " is that any reason for your letting the birds burn? The color”_here he turned to me" is really almost enough to warrant Jupiter's idea. You never saw a more brilliant metallic lustre than the scales emit—but of this you cannot judge till to-morrow. In the mean time I can give you some idea of the shape.” Saying this, he seated himself at a small table, on which were a pen and ink, but no paper. He looked for some in a drawer, but found none.
“Never mind,” said he at length, “this will answer ;” and he
him not so berry well as drew from his waistcoat pocket a scrap of Wrecki dirty foolscap, and made upon it a rough drawing wi.T he comWhile he did this, I retained my seat by the fire, for I was chilly. When the design was complete, he handed it to me without rising. As I received it, a loud growl was heard, succeeded by a scratching at the door. Jupiter opened it, and a large Newfoundland, belonging to Legrand, rushed in, leaped upon my shoulders, and loaded me with caresses; for I had shown him much attention during previous visits. When his gambols were over, I looked at the paper, and, to speak the truth, found myself not a little puzzled at what my friend had depicted.
“Well!" I said, after contemplating it for some minutes, “this is a strange scarabæus, I must confess : new to me : never saw anything like it before-unless it was a skull, or a death's-headwhich it more nearly resembles than anything else that has come under
observation.” “ A death’s-head !” echoed Legrand—“Oh-yes—well, it has something of that appearance upon paper, no doubt. The two upper black spots look like eyes, eh ? and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth—and then the shape of the whole is oval.”
“ Perhaps so," said I; “but, Legrand, I fear you are no artist. I must wait until I see the beetle itself, if I am to form any
idea of its personal appearance.”
“Well, I don't know,” said he, a little nettled, “I draw tolera. bly—should do it at least-have had good masters, and flatter myself that I am not quite a blockhead.
“But, my dear fellow, you are joking then," said I, “ this is a very passable skull—indeed, I may say that it is a very excellent skull, according to the vulgar notions about such specimens of physiology—and your scarabæus must be the queerest scarabæus in the world if it resembles it. Why, we may get up a very thrilling bit of superstition upon this hint. I presume you will call the bug scarabæus caput hominis, or something of that kindthere are many similar titles in the Natural Histories. But where are the antenne you spoke of ?”
“The antennæ !” said Legrand, who seemed to be getting unaccountably warm upon the subject; “ I am sure you must see