the vegetation is so thick, that the growth of the shrubs rather resembles a wall. The solitude here is very Robinson Crusoeish. The hills are covered to the top with what we should call calf-weed, but here is called bush; on two of these hills are small forts built by Mr. Maclean. The natives seem obliging and intelligent, and look very picturesque, with their fine dark figures, with pieces of the country cloth flung round them; they seem to have an excellent ear for music. The servants are very tolerable, but they take so many to work. The prisoners do the scouring, and fancy three men cleansing a room that an old woman in England would do in an hour! besides, the soldier who stands by, has his bayonet drawn in his hand. Of a night, the beauty of the scenery is remarkable: the sea is of a silvery purple, and the moon deserves all that has been said in her favour. The salt lakes were first dyed a deep crimson by the setting sun, and as we returned, they seemed a faint violet in the twilight, just broken by a thousand stars, while before us was the red-light beacon."

Mr. Joseph Dupuis, in his "Journal of a Residence in Ashantee," 1814, says, the effects of the sunbeams are here oppressive to Europeans, and the absence of the sea breeze, which seldom sets in before ten o'clock, contributes much to exhaustion and indisposition, attended with fever; that they are obliged, so languid does the heat render them, to drink cold infusions of bark, and add the refreshing application to restore them. it any wonder that so gentle and frail a creature as "L. E. L." should sink beneath the vapours of such a soil of swamps, fevers, and pestilence? liable as she was to

"All the maladies

Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms Of heart-sick agony."

Is

Cape Coast Castle is the principal British settlement on the Gold Coast of the Gulf of Guinea: and is near the powerful kingdom of the Ashantees. The British trade with the Gold Coast of Africa was placed by charter, in the reign of Charles II., under the controul of the African Company, whose governor-general (the governor of Cape Coast Castle,) and council, managed the affairs of the settlement. It is well-known, when Sir Charles Macarthy was governor of Cape Coast Castle, he attacked the armies of the Ashantees, by whom he was killed, and his army totally defeated. They now, however, for the present, live on friendly terms with the British authorities.

A correspondent, in the Times of January 22, says, "L. E. L.' was subject to the most violent spasms in the head and stomach; and when on a visit four years ago, she used laudanum so very carelessly, that Mrs. told her she would certainly poison herself. During the same visit, she received a letter

I'VE hoped in vain to meet with thee, Thro' years that seem'd a lifetime each; But, ah! I fear that ne'er shall be,

Unless I first the bliss beseech! I could not own my ardent flame,

Tho' wildly it consumed my breast; Nor have I ever breathed thy name,

Tho' looks have all my soul express'd! When first we caught each other's glance, Our hearts enjoyed youth's sunniest year; But tho' our number'd days advance, At least, I feel not less sincere! Matured in thought-inured to careMore fitted for the world's soft guile; A long-admired and faithful fair, Can better trust her lover's smile! Then, gentle maiden! blame me not

If Fate has thus prolong'd our woe; One hour thou hast not been forgot,

And there are reasons none can know! Still do I live to think of thee,

With longings for the blissful hour, When thou shalt meet and smile with me, Till death destroys affection's power!

A MORNING SALUTATION BETWEEN
SOUL AND BODY.
BODY.

TELL me, my Soul, where hast thou been
Wand'ring the live long night?

What hast thou done, what hast thou seen,
In the course of thy silent flight?

SOUL.

I have been o'er the wide wide sea,
Have o'er the waters crost;
Seeking for ever so mournfully,
Her whom I have lost.

I have heen to visit the silent tomb,
Where my hopes all buried lie;
Fairer flowers in my pathway bloom,
But dearer to me, tho' lost in gloom,
Are those that have pass'd me by.
I have been wand'ring all alone,
'Mid the ruins of happier days;
Fairy palaces overthrown-

Shining visions all scatter'd and gone, Lost in the desolate maze.

I have been wand'ring I know not where,
Seeking for something that was not there,
Comfortless, void, and vain-

But I heard from afar the distant hum
Of the 'wakening multitude, and I come,
I come to thee again.

ralists began to class objects according to their resemblances; and, after dividing them into Classes, Orders, Genera, Species, and into Kingdoms, they have subdivided them

Varieties.

Natural objects are divided into two great classes-organic, and inorganic. Organ

ized bodies consist both of solid and of fluid parts; coutain cells filled with fluid; inhale fluids and exhale others; are covered with a skin, called epidermis; and are produced by other bodies of the same kind ;—so that they form part of a chain, reaching from the very origin of animals. They grow by taking food internally; and this, together with the function of reproduction, supposes an internal structure; consisting of organs adapted for their several purposes, animated by a vital power. Some organic beings live only a few minutes; others for centuries; but eventually all die. Inorganic bodies do not grow from internal deposition, or produce others; though they increase in size, and have a determinate form. They do not die; have no general covering; and their structure is arranged in plates (laminated). If the plates (or la mella) cross each other, cells are produced; but they are empty.

Organic bodies are divided into plants and animals ;-the first having the power of being nourished by food, as well as the last; and also of producing other bodies like their own; but they do not possess sensation, or the power of moving at will. One great characteristic of animals is the possession of a sto. mach. This organ has been found in every animal which has yet been carefully examined ;—even in those of which five millions exist in a drop of water. It has been the fashion to deny a stomach to animalcule;

but this is founded on mistake.

Here, then, we have the Three Kingdoms of Nature;-the Animal, the Vegetable, and the Mineral;-the two first being included in organic bodies, and the latter consisting of inorganic. The study of these kingdoms constitutes Natural History. It has been divided into five parts; comprehended in the sciences of Meteorology, Hydrography, Mineralogy, Botany, and Zoology. The variety of objects in nature is so great, that the stu dent is distracted when he attempts to grasp the whole. The globe is the result of a great process of oxidization and crystallization; and contains an extinct world of animals and plants, different from those which are at present living on its surface. In order to communicate their observations to others, natu

dation of a natural arrangement of the Vegetem of the Animal Kingdom; and the founothers. The best artificial system is that of table Kingdom has been laid by Jussieu and Linnæus. In Mineralogy (an infant science) both the natural and the artificial systems are yet imperfect.

That description of events which is called present subject. The latter has two branches; history," is erroneous as applied to our one of which acquaints us with the various

objects in nature, as they really exist; and is other (or called "Natural Description;" while the "Natural History," properly so. called) comprehends the original state of have undergone to the present time. Natural natural objects, and the various changes they History is not to be regarded as a matter of idle curiosity; or merely as an elegant pastime, to be pursued as a relaxation after other pursuits. It is an elegant pastime, certainly; but it is much more; for to study it fully and deeply, requires active and attentive exercise of the mind. It furnishes a rich source of ideas for the poet. Witness Hesiod, TheoMilton, Thomson, and others. It is indiscritus, Virgil, Lucretius, and, in later times, pensable to agriculture and mining. The it, to enable him to discriminate the various chemist ought to possess some knowledge of

substances that come under his examination.

Much is yet to be done; for New Holland, Asia, and Africa, are almost unknown. We are but imperfectly acquainted with our plete mineralogical or geological system. A own little kingdom; and we have no comknowledge of geology is often of great use to military officers. Even the great maps pubfessor Jameson to be faulty; owing to the lished by Government, are declared by Protake this opportunity of acknowledging our surveyors being ignorant of Geology. obligations to the unpublished lectures of this distinguished Naturalist, in the preparation of the present sketch; and we intend to borrow largely from the same source, in future communications on Natural History. By a knowledge of this interesting science, a

We

traveller is enabled to seize and to communicate a more distinct view of the countries he visits, than he who, ignorant of the subject, has spent a whole life in them. The latter the former finds,will find all waste and wearisome; where

"Tongues in the trees; books in the running brooks; Sermons in stones; and good in everything!"

Organic are distinguished from inorganic bodies by certain phenomena which are called vital. It is not one of these phenomena, but the assemblage of the whole that is called "life." One of them is the property of resisting, within certain limits, the ordinary laws of matter. The next is that of changing other bodies into their own substance. This assimilation is termed, in vegetables, absorption; and, in animals, digestion. Another distinguishing phenomenon is the mode in which the constituent materials of organized bodies are disposed;-giving rise to different tissues or textures. Another relates to their origin and termination. They descend from other living beings; and all formed, at one period, part of other bodies; before they became capable of an independent existence. Their production is veiled in mystery; but their first appearance is in germs. It was once thought there was no exception to these rules; but the microscope, in the opinion of some philosophers, has lately rendered it doubtful in some cases. Once more, it is characteristic of organized beings (as we have already intimated) that their existence is terminated by death. They perish from the operation of internal and inherent causes.

All these characters are common both to animals and vegetables; but there are some by which they may be distinguished from each other. To animals are added sensation and voluntary motion; which are called animal functions; while the others are styled vegetative. It is true that motions apparently voluntary exist in the Vegetable Kingdom. The sensitive plant, for instance, shrinks from the touch; but all the motions of vegetables are to be explained on the principle of contraction from the application of a stimulus, without consciousness, and therefore without volition. In man, both the vegetative and the animal processes go on; but of the former (such as the formation of blood) we are not conscious. The same thing occurs in the reparation of an injury. If loss of substance be caused by a wound, it is repaired; a new substance being arranged, without our being sensible of how it is done; or, frequently, whether it is done at all.

Manners and Customs.

SKETCHES OF PARIS.-No. III.

The Omnibuses.

N. R.

DECIDEDLY the omnibuses are the most convenient things in Paris. They are very agreeable in London, where you have a good trottoir to walk upon, and do not run the risk every instant of being mashed like a flea against the wall, but they are far more agree able in Paris, with its large and perpetually flowing gutters, its uneven pavement, its nar

row streets, its perplexing intricacies, and its loitering cabs and coaches. Since you may travel for threepence from Tivoli to Bercy, and from Belleville to Vaugirard, beating our long course between the Bank and Lisson Grove hollow, who would make such a journey on foot, especially in wet weather, when the forest of umbrellas in Paris quite bewilders you? Bourgeois, artists, merchants, nursery-maids, and even soldiers-in fact, all the world is to be found in the French omnibus. You only want six sous in your pocket at present to be able to ride from one end of Paris to the other. as godt bgs wer ins One of the great advantages in these vehicles, decidedly superior to any arrangement we have with our own, is the following. There is a kind of understanding between the different companies, by which means you can get out of one omnibus and into another, without paying again, presuming the first does not go to the point you wish, and this is called correspondance. We will give a pa rallel instance of what would take place in London, if we followed the the same plan. Suppose you want to go from Regent-street to the Elephant and Castle. There is perhaps no omnibus on this line, but you could go as far as New Bridge-street, and then quitting this, enter another coming from Islington, which would take you to the desired spot.

n

TW

n

Do not think, however, that you gain much time by riding in Paris; there are always plenty of obstacles to a speedy journey. The perpetual getting in and out, the crowded streets, the stations of the correspondanceall lose many minutes in every hour. In the inside also you will meet with many disagreeables. You are sometimes much crowded; your fellow-passengers lean on you while they dispose of their eternal umbrellas; you will have a dirty foot placed on your boot, which you have just had polished on the Pont Neuf, at an expense of two sous; and if you have not unfortunately any small change, you will get for your nice five franc piece a perfect pile of copper coins, of those eccentric variations in dirt, figure, and dimension, which only French sous are capable of displaying

Like the inhabitants of different countries, the internal physiognomy of these voitures vary according to the quartier which they traverse. In the omnibus which follows the line of the Boulvarts, you will generally find very nicely dressed companions, both gentlemen and ladies. Several females, and by no means the least pretty, will quit you at the Passage de L'Opera, to join the rehearsal at the Açademie Royale de Musique, of Les Huguenots, or Le Diable Boiteux, according as their ta lents are for the chorus or ballet. If you push your journey as far as the Faubourg du Roule, divers grave persons will seat themselves by you. Old men of proud air and haughty carriage, with little bits of red ribbon in their

button-holes, showing that they are of the Legion of Honour, (which is well named, they being many,) do not disdain riding in an ommibus. You will likewise observe that all the passengers have gloves, and pass their fare to the conducteur with a cold salute. There is no noise, no conversation in these vehicles, nor are there many grisettes, or students-it is not exactly their quarter.

If you enter an omnibus running from the Porte St. Martin to the Chamber of Deputies, the picture varies much. In the middle of Paris, the travellers are of all stations. There are tradesmen, merchants, clerks, lingeres, and now and then an actress or two. They regard and examine each other closely as they enter, and give place with more complaisance. It is also a rare occurrence not to have a conversation established between two persons, even if there are five or six others between them. Their toilet is less carefully made, and there is more of the never mind in their manners. You will still see gloves, but they are not in the majority, and generally of that inferior order which you buy under the passages of the Palais Royal, and at the door of the Opera Comique, for twenty-nine sous a pair.

1

In the omnibus which goes to Père La Chaise from the foot of the Pont Neuf, you will meet many of our own nation-perhaps more than on any other line in Paris. You may know them at once by their square-toed boots, and by their not touching their hat on entering the voiture. They are much astonished at being requested to pay as soon as they are seated, and do not understand the correspondance at all, so that when they get out at the Place de la Bastille, where you change your omnibus, instead of entering the other at once, they are lost in admiration of the great model of the elephant, (which will form a fountain one of these days, when the French ships come in,) and thus lose their place, and so have to walk on to the cemetery, up a long narrow street, composed entirely of wine-shops, and tomb-stone cutters. On returning, they have different souvenirs of the cemetery. Some have the Letters of Abelard and Heloise, purchased at the porter's lodge -others have a guide to the monuments, which they intend to read for practice in French; but the greater number buy wreaths and garlands of everlasting flowers, which only being used in Paris to hang on the graves of dead relations, the French wonder what they can be going to do with.

But if you patronize one of the Dames Blanches, which run from La Villette to the Place St. Sulpice, there is__ again another change in the passengers. For your companions you now have carmen, dames de la halle, or market-women, artisans, and inhabitants of some of the wild regions without the barrier. As you approach the Rue St. Martin,

several grisettes will enter, but they generally quit you on approaching the Quai St. Michel-doubtless to go towards the Rue de la Harpe. The chances are, you will be incommoded in this omnibus by parcels, bas kets, plants, and provisions; and since the Italians have played at the Odeon, on account of the destruction of their own opera-house, more than once we have encountered a huge fiddle, or a trumpet in a green bag, especially towards evening. Nay, you may be placed between two fellow-travellers, one of whom will carry a goose, or some rabbits, on her knees, and the other a basket of oysters. Here you must place yourself as you can, keeping a tight hold of the strap which runs along the roof of the omnibus until you are seated, or you may plump down on some butter or eggs with the next jolt of the vehicle. We need scarcely add, there are few gloves to be seen in these omnibuses, but the loss of them is counterbalanced by divers pairs of wooden shoes; and caps appear to enjoy a great superiority over hats and bonnets. KNIPS.

LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC
INSTITUTIONS.

ONE of the distinguishing features of the present age is the formation of associations either for the attainment or diffusion of knowledge, each object giving birth to its peculiar kind of institution. Thus we have for the attainment of knowledge (by this term we wish to convey to our readers the idea of original research,) such societies as the "Royal," the "Royal Astronomical," the "Geological," and others of a similar character, which are composed principally of members who devote themselves to the arduous task of investigating Nature, unfolding her laws, and contributing their share towards the erection of the vast pyramid of knowledge. On the other hand, we have various "Literary and Scientific Institutions," which are the means of diffusing the knowledge obtained by the industrious investigator of nature, among those individuals in whose minds a thirst for knowledge has been excited-indeed the Literary Institution both excites the mind to inquiry, and satisfies the thirst thus produced. We hail the establishment and increase of these institutions as a marked indication of the "change" that society is undergoing. A change that will introduce (as a beautiful writer remarks,) "pleasures of a higher order, and more akin to genuine happiness-social pleasures, and pleasures of the intellect that will open upon, and grow upon our brethren of the operative class. They will find pleasures in books-boundless, unimagined, inexhaustible, inexpressible pleasures." This is the direct tendency of such institutions, and they point out to us in a manner not to be