the dogs from bunting his ducks. They told him that his ducks should be paid for, but that the dogs were not hunting bis ducks. but something at the bottom of the pond, and desired him to let off the water, that they might see what it was. The miller trembled and changed colour; but concealing his agitation, suggested that such an expedient would be his ruin, as it was the summer season, and if the water were let off, he would have none to grind with. They offered to pay him whatever was reasonable; the miller, however, replied that nothing could indemnify him, and intreated them to desist. The gentlemen, accordingly, with much difficulty brought off their dogs, and by the aid of the miller, forced them into the mill. The miller had not so well concealed his confusion but that one of the gentlemen had perceived it, and began to entertain some suspicions, though he knew not of what. He resolved, however, to be satisfied and hit upon an expedient. He followed the miller through the mill and seemed to take an interest in his explanations of its machinery. He at length proposed to his companions, that as it was some distance to the town, and as the day was beautiful and the scenery delightful, they should dance in the mill. The gentlemen all agreed, and the miller was accordingly sent off to procure wine, &c. from the town, the gentlemen promising to take care of his house and mill till his return. Having thus got rid of the miller, they resolved to execute the purpose which they had all formed. Accordingly, they proceeded to let off the water out of the dam; the dam was soon exhausted, and, the sack and body of Marietta discovered. The gentlemen had just taken it from the sack, and were examining it on the bank, when. the miller was seen coming blithly along. through a meadow. In a few minutes, however, he got a sight of them on the bank of the mill-dam, and his conscience informing him what they were about, he betook himself to flight. Two of the gentlemen pursued him, and brought him to the mill. The remainder of this narrative is very brief. The miller was brought to trial, and condemned to be hanged. He accused Quattresson of having bribed him to the act, upon which Quattresson was likewise tried and condemned. Previous to his execution he acknowledged all his murders, and implored the forgiveness of Heaven. THE NEW SYSTEM OF BOTANY, WITH PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE PHILOSOPHY OF FLORA, &c. &c. &c. (Continued from Page 307.) IT is possible that other nations have most curious productions of the warmest and existed who were more comparatively wealthy, most distant climates. The application of and absolutely more luxurious than England. | hot-houses on the present plan, is but of recent Ja the later days even of the Roman Rupublic, || date; but the use of hot-beds appears to have we read of individuals paying thirty thousand pounds for a single supper; nay it has been said, that three thousand pounds has been expended in preparing a single dish. Of these things, however, happily Eugland cannot boast, but it is still her pride to render her wealth, and even her luxury, subservient to the welfare of her immense population; to the encouragement of genius, taste, and science; and to the rewarding of active industry. Of all our modern improvements connected with domestic comforts, there is noue perhaps which deserves the attention of the philosopher, or is more worthy the investigation of the man of taste, without a pun, than the hot-house; as it enables us to produce in the highest natural perfection, though by artificial means, the most useful, as well as the been known as early as 1597, as Gerard gives directions for making them in that year: it is a curious fact, however, that Thomas Hyll, who published a work in 1593, on the training of melons, cucumbers, &c. was not acquainted with them; but simply directs sifted earth and compost to be put into old baskets, and to be set in the sun. Now, however, such is the excellence of our horticultural system, even in the most inclemneut seasons, England may boast of a better supply of esculent plauts of every species, both in quantity and quality, than any other country in the world. These indeed are improvements ten thousand times more valuable than all the refinements of ancient Roman, or the magnificence of Asiatie luxury; for here can we boast their most delicious productions, fostered by the band of acience, and protected by the arm of liberty. Let us then take a botanical view of those specimens of horticultural warmth most de serving of our attention: the first which presses us to investigation is that commonly called the PINE APPLE, Thus designated by the elegant poet of the Seasons, -Oft in humble station dwells “Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp. "Witness thou best anana, thou the pride "Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er "The poets imaged of the golden age; "Quick let me strip thee of thy tufty coat, "Spread thy ambrosial stores, and feast with Jove!" This plant although for many years bearing the vernacular name of ananas, has lately by general consent, though we must confess without any sufficient reason, been re-baptized in memory of Olaus Bromel, a Swede, author of 1wo works called Lupulogia, and Chloris Gothica. and is now only to be found under the botanieal arrangement of Bromelia. Under this pame, however, are reckoned nine species; and the whole class is particularized as HEXANDRIA MONOGYNIA, and of the natural order of Coronaria The most noticeable parts of the generic character are that in the calyx, the perianth is three cornered, small, soperior, permanent, divisions three ovate. In the corolla, the petals are three, narrow lanceolate, erect, longer than the calyx: nectary fastened to each petal above the base, converging, &c. In essential character, the calyx is trifid, su perior; berry three celled. All the varieties are considered as herbaceous; and some of them are said to be parasitical; and though our botanical writers in general have classed them all under the title of Bromelia, yet others, and we think with more reason, have arranged them under three heads of ananas, bromelia, Taratas. In these distinctions, the apparent differences are well defined. In the ananas, it is observed that the flowers are in a close spike, and on a scape, leafy at the summit: this spike as it ripens, becomes what is generally termed, though improperly, the fruit; but which is really a collection of berries, though possessing very few cells, and a smaller number of seeds. In the bromelias, the flowers are on a loose spike or panicle, which is placed on a scape, and the fruit is but indifferent. In the raratas, which are a wild species, it is necessary to notice further, than that the || it is not irrelevant to observe here, that although ananas requires the strictest attention under artificial culture in these climates, yet in the torrid zone it will always thrive best when left to itself, if planted in a soil congenial to it. With respect to the West Indian cultivation of the pine apple, there is no account of its first introduction there; but in Europe, we believe that M. La Cour, of Leyden, in Holland, was the first person to whom we are indebted for it. It had been supposed that Sir Mathew Decker, of Richmond, was its first introducer into England; however, it is now generally believed to have been brought here as early as 1690, by M. Bentinck, ancestor of the present Portland family, when it received its familiar name, from its resemblance to the cone of the pine-tree. Those who are conversant with exotics must have observed a great resemblance between its leaves and those of the aloe; as for any description of its fruit, or encomiums on its flavour, they are certainly unnecessary. We may observe, however, for the sake of our fair readers, whose superior fortune has placed the luxury of a hot-house at their command, that they will find the juice of the pine not only highly medicinal in their own nurseries, but also of great and often of important use, to the infants of those whose wayward fortune throws them ou the bounty of their superiors; for a small portion of it mixed in water, is a most excellent drink in light fevers; and even a tea spoonful of it, sweetened with sugar, and repeatedly administered, will be found to destroy worms, and also to cleanse and heal the thrush, or any other ulcerations of the fauces to which infants are subject. The bromelia, commonly called the pinguin, is found growing wild in the Savannahs, and on the rocky hills of the West Indian Islands, where it is much used as fences for the pasture grounds; in some parts of Spanish America, it is applied to purposes of manufacture, for a strong thread may be made from the leaves, if soaked in water, and beaten with a mallet until they are cleared of the succulent part: this thread is then worked into ropes, and into hammocks; nay some specimens of very good cloth have been produced from it. The wild raratas is generally found all over Spanish South America and the West ludies. It is the most elegant, though apparently the most useless of its species, producing leaves six or seven feet long, very numerous, issuing from the root, and edged with strong spines. The flowers are placed in the very bosom of the plant, and are of a beautiful rose colour, with a downy germ and calyx; they are, however, totally devoid of perfume. The fruit are of an oval shape; and grow in a large groupe, sometimes to the number of two or three hundred, and may be eaten when ripe; but in a green state have very unpleasant effects upon the teeth, and will even excoriate the tongue and palate. The most singular thing respecting this plant is the care taken by nature to preserve its fruit from destruction until it becomes ripe, and also to prevent birds or other animals from injuring themselves by it; for so completely is it secured from their attacks by the surrounding thorny leaves, as to be totally impermeable to any force which they can apply. Amongst the most curious exotics with which modern art has embellished our gardens and hot-houses, is the MIMOSA, To which the epithet of "half reasoning" may as aptly be applied as it was by Pope to the sagacious elephant. The plants which we now have of this genus, were introduced from Brazil, and other warm climates into Europe; they were not unknown, however, in ancient times, as we find them mentioned by Pliny and Theophrastus; yet it is evident that they were not introduced into England until after the discovery of the Western Continent, as there is not the slightest allusion to them in Shakespeare, and we cannot believe that one who drew the sublimest truths even from the simplest phenomena of nature, would have disregarded a subject so full of sentiment and reflection, if he had been acquainted with its properties. Of this genus, there are no less than eighty-five species, under the various names of acacia, &c. but those to which we shall confine our present sketches shall be mimosa sensitiva, or the sensitive plant, and another called the humble plant. Though the generic name includes so many varieties, yet the elegant Darwin applies it specifically to those under consideration: "Weak with nice sense, the chaste mimosa stands, "From each rude touch withdraws her timid bands: "Oft as light clouds o'erpass the summer glade "Alarmed she trembles at the moving shade; "And feels, alive through all her tender form, "The whisper'd murmurs of the gath'ring storm; "Shuts her sweet eye-lids to approaching night; "And hails, with freshened charms, the rising light." This shifting or moving quality of the leaves, so elegantly expressed by the poet, first induced that judicious botanist Tournefort, to give it the present name, meaning to express the feminine gender of the name mimus mutabilis, so applicable to its most apparent properties. All the varieties of the mimosa are classed by botanists as POLYGAMIA MONOECIA, and placed in the natural order of lomentaceœ. In their generic character, the calyx has the perianth one leaved, five toothed, very small; the corolla has one petal, funnel form, half five cleft. The essential character so nearly resembles the generic, that it is unnecessary to repeat it. There is this, however, to be observed, that many small flowers fall off, in early stages of fructification; some few are female, and in some of the species they are hermaphrodite. Our earliest botanists, on the first introduction of this extraordinary plant, were struck with such wonder, as to imagine things the most incongruous respecting it, and some of their writings were filled with tales unfit for a modern nursery; but the most rational ob server of the sensitive plaut, is the ingenious Darwin, who tells us that no naturalist has yet explained the immediate cause of its voluntary collapsing. In the course of his observations, he noticed that the leaves meet and close in the night, during the sleep of the plant, or when exposed to much cold in the day time, in the same manner as when they are affected by external violence, folding their upper surfaces together, and in part over each other, so as to expose as little of the upper surface as possible to the air. This natura! collapsing, however, is not so complete as that arising from the effect of the touch, for if irritated during their sleep, they fall still farther, especially if touched on the footstalks, which unite the leaflets to the stem. An experiment was tried on a sensitive plant, by keeping it in a darkened room, until some hours after sunrise, during which time its leaves and leaf-stalks were collapsed as close as in its profoundest sleep; and on its exposure to the light, upwards of twenty minutes intervened before it was thoroughly awake, and completely expanded. It has been noticed that they are more or less sensibly affected by light, yet if the stove is warm, their leaves will always be fully expanded in the middle of the day. It has also been noticed, that they do not wait always for the stimulus of the morn irritation or pressure, in proportion to the warmth in which they are cultivated; but with respect to those habituated to the open air, they neither shut up so close at night, nor do they ever expand as wide as the others.ing light to expand after their nocturnal sleep, That their expansion is not produced by light alone, is proved by the frequent fact, that in the longest days of summer, they are generally collapsed as early as five or six in the evening; although the sun remains two or three hours Jonger, above the horizon; and it has also been ascertained by experiment, that if the glasses of the hot-house in which they are placed, should be covered close, so as to exclude the as intelligent botanists declare that they have often seen them fully expanded at the earliest dawn. These facts have been thought to im ply a species of voluntary motion; but we be lieve that it must be considered as mechanical effect, for when any of the leaves, on being irritated, contract and fall on the others, these also collapse from the effect of their own touch! (To be continued.) PRAISE OF SILENCE. We have the Praise of Folly, and even the Praise of Fever, with which many readers may probably be acquainted; both of these are jeux d'esprit: not so the Praise of Silence, that dumb but often most eloquent language What is more majestic than the silence that reigns in the sacred groves of our fore-fathers, or in the temples of our God!-what more awful than the profound silence of the field of battle bestrewed with dead-what more mov ing than the silence of a charming summer's night! Nature is great in silence, so is likewise the soul of man. an Grand, noble, and sublime sentiments are often denoted by silence alone. When Ulysses in bis descent to the nether world, meets the indignant shade of Ajax, and praises his achievements, Ajax is silent, and disdains to swer the flatterer. This passage is one of the finest in the Odyssey. Virgil has an excellent imitation of it in his Enied; for when Eneas, in like mauner, flatters Dido in the shades, she turns her back, without deigning to reply. There is a sublime silence when an accused person feels too great to condescend to defend himself.-Scipio Africanus was summoned before the people to justfy himself against a charge of misapplying the public money. "Romans," said he, "on this day I conquered Hanibal and subdued Carthage; let us go and return thanks to the Gods for their favours."-With these words he proceeded to the Capital, accompanied by the whole assembly. Every body knows that Epictetus warned his master, who was beating him, not to break his leg. His master, however, did ac*tually break it, on which Epictetus merrily said, "Did I not tell you so before-hand?" -A heathen philosopher observes, that the founder of Christianity did not display such "Most as. sublime conduct at his death. suredly he did," replied St. Justin, "for he was silent." An Ambassador from Abdera made some unreasonable demands of Agis, King of Spartan. After a speech of great length, he concluded with these words, "What answer, O King, shall I deliver to my nation in your name?" Agis replied, "That I suffered you to say what you pleased, without uttering a syllable in reply." This is called by Montaigne, a taire-parlier, a speaking silence. There is a silence of modesty :-Pausanias relates, that soon after the marriage of Penelope, she was asked by Icarus, her father, and Ulysses, her husband, whether she would rather accompany the latter to Ithaca, or remain with the former at Sparta? She was silent, and covered her face with her veil. The grateful Ulysses erected an altar to modesty. It is observed by a French Poet, that "Le silence du peuple est la lecon des rois." When the notorious Isabeau, so well characterised in Schiller's Maid of Orleans, had dispossessed the legitimate successor to the throne, and married his sister to Henry V. of England, the English entered Paris, and Isabeau stationed himself, magnificently attired, in a balcony, hoping to receive marks of gratitude and respect from those who passed by; but they were all silent, and turned their faces from the balcony. The Bible often makes use of silence to embellish its imagery. When the prophet would describe the power of Cyrus, he (6 says, At the sight of him the earth is silent." Esther did not wear her costly apparel in the days of silence. There is also a mournful silence, namely, the silence of the convent, the silence of the grave, and I had almost said, the silence of the English Club, in which it was forbidden to speak. An Englishman once observed, "To speak spoils the conversation." Ammianus Marcellinus informs us that divine honours were paid to silence. The Egyptians denominated this deity Sigation, the Greeks Harpocratus, and the Roman Angenora. The latter had likewise among their slaves one whom they called Silentiarius, but I know not what were the duties of his office. At a later period this term signified as much as private Secretary to the Emperor. Charleinague had a Silentiarius. THE GAMESTER. WE had passed through Hyde Park, and were entering Kensington-gardens, when my father was accosted by a person, whose air and apparel were mean and wretched. 1 was surprized to hear him address my father very familiarly by his Christian name, and with a mixture of shame and effrontery, request the loan of a guinea. "Hasbrook," replied my father, "I am sincerely grieved to find you still reduced to the necessity of recurring to such means for your subsistence. You know that were there any hopes of rendering your situation in life more respectable, I should be among the first to contribute to your permanent welfare, but really I cannot listen to calls of this nature, which degrade yourself, without yielding you any effectual service, and deprive me of the power of bestowing that upon the sick and the aged, which you should be above receiving! My father, however, gave bim a guinea, for which he returned thanks with a slight bow, and walked away with a quick pace towards Piccadilly. "Charles," said my father to me, perceiving that I looked rather surprised at the occur rence, "the person who has just left us was formerly my school-fellow, and discovered talents, which as he grew up to manhood, rendered him an interesting companion. Unfortunately his conversation and mauners were rather engaging than truly valuable, and he courted praise more than he cultivated esteem. He was easy, affable, and good-humoured; but he was vain of trifling acquirements, and soon lost sight of those more honourable attainments which had distinguished him at school, and on his entrance among society. He possessed a very considerable paternal property, and it was thought unnecessary to give him any profession. As he had given proofs of some bright intellectual powers in his youth, I endeavoured to persuade him to study the law, and thereby more effectually qualify himself for a seat in Parliament, to which his consequence in the county where his estates were situated, gave him some claims. My advice was received with attention, and he often wrote to me that he was resolved to follow it; but he soon became connected with villains, who, under the semblance of amusement, commit the most wicked depredations upon the property of those with whom they can get acquainted, and whose easiness of mind they entrammel by the seductive and dishonourable pursuits of the gaming-table. His heart, which was at first open and generous, became deceptive and cunning; his understanding, which might have expanded itself in the wide and extensive field of knowledge, and been both usefully and honourably exerted in the highest affairs of the state, was suddenly contracted to the comprehension of tricks and chances: he grew vain of the most infamous species of ingenuity, and boasted fiequently of skill in that which it is disgraceful to know. The best of his former friends now avoided his society. His gaming companions plundered him without controul, and led him to his ruin with inconceiveable rapidity. They taught him effroutery in vice, and made him believe that debauchery was an autidote against the pangs of conscience. In such a state it was not to be wondered at that he treated all my representations with contempt, and even answered my letters with insult. After many ineffectual attempts to recal him to a sense of his situation, I was obliged to leave him to his fate. A few years elapsed without any intelligence of him, when he ventured to address himself to me from the Fleet Prison, in which he was confined by an enormous accumulation of debt. He had lost every delicacy that attaches itself to an ingenuous disposition. He spoke of the horrors of his situation with shameless jocoseness, and solicited my assistance with a meanness of spirit which revolted me. However, as I found that his sisters, two amiable young ladies would in all probabilty suffer by his errors, I took the address of a person whom he called his solicitor, and resolved to make some inquiries into his circumstances. |