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CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF " CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," "CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c.

NUMBER 536.

THE STRUGGLES OF ADOLESCENCE.

THE passage from boyhood to youth was marked amongst the Romans by a ceremonious investiture with what they called the toga cirilis, or robe of manhood. I presume this was put on at a certain age, so that there could be no dubiety about the matter. The boy was a boy one day; next day, he was a man ; all the world acknowledged the transition, and there was no more to be said. It is very different in this country, where a lad will sometimes hang for a year or two in a doubtful state between boy and man, to the great discomfort of himself, and not without some inconvenience to his neighbours, who scarcely know how to address or consider him. He himself is probably eager to be ranked with men, and for this reason has long put away boyish things; but his seniors, somehow, are usually plaguily slow at perceiving that he has ceased to be a boy-so that, unless he puts forward some determined claim, he stands little chance of being accepted in the superior capacity. This, again, his bashfulness may forbid his doing, so that he is condemned to pine in secret under an injustice for which there is no immediate remedy.

If a youngster have elder brothers, who have for some time been received into the pale of manhood, his case is even worse. I have known desperate struggles take place between younger and elder brothers, in the assertion of a claim to be considered as an adult specimen of the genus homo. It is very shameful; but certainly the policy of the elder parties is decidedly of the keep-him-down character. Orlando, in As You Like It, is but a type of what all younger brothers have to endure from elder brothers. One may have got above any thing like a particular affection for bread and butter for several months, and by rising at five every morning, may have made way through not only Smith's Wealth of Nations, but also Gibbon's History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire; yet those big fellows will still deny one's claim to manhood. One may have even begun to shave pretty regularly, though somewhat clandestinely, once a-week; yet for some time it will all not do. Constant squabbling and fighting goes on-in some instances for one or more years-before the point is finally settled. A toga cirilis, to be put on at a particular age, would save all these inconveniences. We have, indeed, a toga virilis in the long-tailed coat; but then there is no fixed time for induing it. The difficulty with the young man is-to get his long-tailed coat. That would settle the matter at once; but then nobody will let him have it. Father, elder brothers, all who have any concern in the business, are found to labour under a remarkable prejudice about long-tailed coats, albeit wearing such garments most complacently themselves. The candidate is sure to be by far too young for it: in a year or two it may do very well, but it is absurd to speak of such a thing just now. In short, he must wait. And thus they would

"Bid him sigh on from day to day,

And wish and wish the soul away"until he almost rises in rebellion against authority of every kind; when at length, like many more important things, that is conceded to terror which has been denied to justice. Well may we say to the youth, "The long-tailed coat would make you a man at once; but first catch your long-tailed coat!"

Yet, if we cannot preach in the kirk, we may sing mass in the quier. It sometimes happens that, although a long-tailed coat is for the time unattainable, a pair of boots is not so; and the exchange of shoes for boots is a step towards the desired object. A sensible youth will be content to take his reform by instalments,

SATURDAY, MAY 7, 1842.

trusting by and by to get the whole. And it is really remarkable how far even this alteration will go in advancing the youth to his proper character. One of a set of boys accustomed to play together, appears some fine spring morning with his organs of escape encased in boots. He is instantly recognised as having undergone some strange change, though they cannot at first tell what it consists in. He is no longer the companion they had yesterday, but somehow has got quite above them. They approach with the hesitation due to his felt superiority, to see what it is that has changed him so suddenly, and ere long detect the boots; yet cannot at first understand how those articles should have such an effect. The truth is, it is not the material boots upon his feet that make him look different; there is something within that passeth show. It is the boots of his mind that make the impress. He feels booted, and no longer is the boy he was. Were his actual boots quite concealed from view, he would still be the new man-like Addison's waiting-maid, whom there was no speaking to on the day when she put on her new garters. The other fellows have a faint sense of how the case stands, and at once see that, unless they can get boots too, they must be content to strike under. Home, therefore, they go to their parents, and commence a process of agitation for boots-to every refusal replying, "Well, there's Harry Go-ahead has got boots, and he is no older than we," until they gain their point. This done, all is smooth for a time, but only till some one of the set takes another stride in advance for instance, getting a stock in place of a black handkerchief, or a hat instead of a cap-when instantly the whole pack, as before, must struggle to get upon the same footing.

The getting of boots, stocks, hats, and such things, are but inferior stages in the career towards manhood. They are unmarked, unfelt, in comparison with the grand business of getting a long-tailed coat. There lies the real struggle of youth. The other things are outworks: the long-tailed coat is the citadel. I well remember that, when I attained to boots, my ambition had scarcely yet conceived the idea of a longtailed coat. One is modest at first, after the manner of Colonel Jack, of whom Defoe records-" About this time the colonel thought he might take it upon him to wear a shirt." About the time when I got a hat, the vision of a long-tailed coat hung with considerable distinctness before my mental eyesight. I beheld the skirts dangling, and the yellow buttons gleaming, in one of those fits of clair-royance which are only enjoyed in youth. Still the coat, like many equally important matters, long remained a matter of abstract speculation-a kind of Yarrow Unvisited. I was sensible of its importance, for I saw how differently a lad in a jacket and one in a long-tailed coat were esteemed; but at the same time I knew that I was yet young and small, and without any proper pretensions to be so far advanced. At length, however, the time came when the long-tailed coat could be no longer dispensed with.

I and two juvenile and jacketed friends had for years been playfellows. We not only played together on all occasions, but had a regular alliance with regard to all matters offensive and defensive. As we grew up, we came to have a joint-stock collection of rabbits, from which we expected to derive an immense fortune; but this, like so many other joint-stock concerns, turned out a complete failure. Nothing occurred to mar the friendly feeling which subsisted between us, until one of my companions, who was a little taller and spoke somewhat louder than the rest, appeared before us one morning, to our no

PRICE 14d.

small astonishment, in a long-tailed coat. Our tall friend had cunningly kept the matter a secret, evidently, as we thought, for the purpose of creating a sensation. I and my remaining jacketed friend were taken by surprise, and stood perfectly awe-struck and abashed, peering from under our raised hands at our exalted companion. If he had exercised authority over us while he wore a jacket like ourselves, what would he not do now that he was arrayed in all the pride and plenitude of a long-tailed coat? We trembled at the anticipation, which only turned out to be too true. He of the long-tailed coat kept us in a state of perpetual helotism. There was a swell and a swagger in his air that nothing short of a long-tailed coat could have imparted. His voice waxed louder and more imperious. He dictated and dogmatised over us at his pleasure. We of course succumbed before him, for what could jackets do against a longtailed coat? But were we to continue in that state for ever? That was the question. We had evidently arrived at a great crisis, and something must be done. My little jacketed friend and I did not say much on the subject, but our looks spoke volumes, and we knew that we felt as one. I may also remark that our longtailed friend did not in so many words tell us that we were wretches in jackets, but his whole demeanour announced it as plainly as if he had spoken it. He first humbled us with an attempt at affability and condescension; then cooled off entirely. He was now joined to a set of younkers who wore regular longtailed coats and smoked cigars. We were no longer fit company for him. Flesh and blood could not stand this unmoved, and in the first heat of our indignation we cogitated how we might manage to humble him in turn by cutting a skirt away from his coat. But this passed off. We came to see that it would be better for us to try to rise to his level, than to endeavour to pull him down to ours-a plan, by the way, which may be recommended to the consideration of many older persons with curtailing doctrines. Not many weeks passed ere my sole remaining companion had succeeded in the great object. By some means, to me at the time inexplicable, he had contrived to nestle himself into a pea-green coat with marvellously long tails. I had scarcely recovered from the surprise which this gave me, when I saw him one day walking down the street arm in arm with the tall youth who had lately so shamefully entreated us both, and whom we, in our resentment, had vowed never again to speak to-no, upon no account whatHere was a specimen of human constancy! Matters were quickly enough decided. In less than a week, my late companion had completely deserted the party of the jackets, and was received as a full privileged member of the fraternity of the long-tailed

ever.

coats.

I went home melancholy and misanthropical. Visions of a long-tailed coat, as already mentioned, had ere now visited me, but I was not eager on the subject: I could have waited meekly till time was ripe for the glory which I knew was ultimately to be mine. But when I saw myself thus cast forth as it were from my own proper society, on account of my wearing a jacket, it was no longer possible to exercise patience. It was now clear that if I did not get a long-tailed coat myself, and that speedily, I must fall back upon a set of boys below me in age and all other respects. Agitation had not then become a political principle, but was a recognised domestic one, and I lost no time in taking advantage of it. I spoke to my sister to speak to my mother to speak to my father to get me a long-tailed coat. Next evening, as the worthy man was reposing in his easy chair after

dinner, quietly and unsuspectingly taking his usual tumbler of toddy, the trenches were opened by the deputed hand of my maternal parent, who, in the blandest tones, intimated that his son and heir had taken it into his head that he would like very much to have a long-tailed coat. The old gentleman flew into a violent passion, as old gentlemen are apt to do when their pockets are attacked. A long-tailed coat!" he roared out in an old commodore sort of way; "what does he want with a long-tailed coat? Nonsense, nonsense! If he gets a long-tailed coat ten years hence, it will be soon enough." I heard the words from behind the door, and my heart died within me. Not get a long-tailed coat for ten years! Was I to be doomed to wear a jacket, and be the laughing-stock of the whole long-tailed fraternity, for such a long time? Rather, I thought, let me die at once; and Ï

tunities for study, little intercourse with philosophers,
and no theory to lead him on and reward him for his
labours. We remember well his appearance at the
Edinburgh meeting of the British Association: even
then, when possessing name and fame, he looked only
like a rather homely kind of farmer. He is recently
dead; and as there is not only a scientific but a moral
interest in his history, a brief view of it, furnished by
one who knew him, is here submitted.]

William Smith was born, March 23, 1769, at
Churchill in Oxfordshire-over, as he was fond to
remark, the oolitic formation. He commenced as a
geologist in his very boyhood, it being one of his
earliest amusements to collect the fossil shells which

really did for a moment contemplate suicide. But abound in this class of rocks, and to observe their urged Mr Smith to lay his views and discoveries before

my mother, with whom I was a favourite, evidently appeared to be on my side, and I then saw reason for hope, knowing that she was in general a capital agitator. That very night, to my unspeakable joy, it was announced that "the governor" had relented, and that I might go and get measure taken for a longtailed coat!

I re

I immediately sallied forth and sought the dwelling of the tailor, at whose door I rapped in a bold determined manner. "Is Mr Toggins at home?" said I, in an authoritative tone. "Yes, sir;" and I was shown into a room. In a short time, Toggins appeared, with his measures disposed over his arm, and these he right quickly applied to my person. member yet the pleasure with which I felt his fingers touch the back of my leg as he measured me for the tails. I told him that wished a first-rate article, and expected that he would spare no pains. He solemnly promised to do as I wished; and added, that to give the coat every advantage, he would put on a set of buttons of a pattern newly introduced in town, and which had only that day reached him. I left him with my head in the clouds. On Saturday night the coat was brought home. I tried it on; the fit was faultless, the workmanship beautiful, the buttons splendid. Next morning, when the bells began to ring for church, I walked forth in my coat, and proceeded with as unconcerned an air as possible up the sunny side of the street, which I adopted for the double purpose of showing off, and of seeing the shadow of my skirts on the wall. As I went along, one of a group of urchins upon whom I suddenly came, cried "Haud out o' the man's road!"-an evidence that I was no longer a boy, but a full-fledged man. The sentence, pronounced as it was in the broadest Scotch of a country town, was music to my ears, and inflated me as wind does a bag. I felt tall, and strong, and dignified, and not-care-a-farthingishly, and went into church in a frame of mind any thing but that of a sober Christian. On the following morning, it became evident that my coat had made a sensation. My former companions, who had stood aloof during the jacket régime, now came up, and were as frank and social as ever. I was inclined to be cold at first, but soon relented. The only punishment I inflicted was to report what I had been told by Toggins, but did not believe, that my buttons were the favourite buttons of the Prince Regent; at which, as I expected, they all looked rather blank. To tell the plain truth, I soon saw how absurd it would be to resent their former exclusive conduct; for, before we had walked along a hundred yards together, I felt the same contempt for one or two jacketed striplings of my acquaintance whom we met, as my new companions had lately expressed for me.

Thus happily, at length, ended the struggles of adolescence in my case; but I remain deeply sensible of how much better it would be to revive the Roman fashion, than to allow a youth to fight his way, as I had done, into the toga virilis-freely translated, the long-tailed coat.

several characters. His patrimony being small, he
engaged in the profession of a surveyor of land; and
in the course of the acquisition of professional know-
ledge, it was his delight to store facts in reference to
the strata whose surfaces he measured and appor-
tioned as a matter of business. In 1791, Mr Smith
was employed in Somersetshire; and some years
later he was engaged in executing the Somerset Coal
Canal. Here he frequently descended the coal-pits,
and obtained much information on the coal-measures,
from the colliers and his own keen personal inspec-
tion. In the course of this period, he became intimately
acquainted with the minute characteristics of the
stratification around Bath, which, including the coal-
measures, embraced some of the most important of
our English rocks and clays. He in time collected
numerous organic remains, all of which he was careful
to label in reference to the precise positions from
which they were derived. He was now called to
survey on the Coteswold Hills; and, early in 1794, to
attend Parliament in connexion with the business of
the Somerset Coal-Canal Company. His journey to
London afforded him an opportunity, thoroughly made
use of, of observing the contours of the hills and emi-
nences in the various neighbourhoods; nor was the
conformation of ranges of knolls and minor elevations
lost upon our observer. A stage-coach journey was
in fact to him the perusal, though necessarily a hasty
perusal, of a page of nature's volume.

communications to any respectable and intelligent inquirer. He reserved no portion of information to himself, but profusely bestowed it without considerations of selfishness, or thought of compensation of any kind. Had he been actuated by any thing apart from an indomitable love of the science, it is more than probable that his knowledge might have been turned to good account for his own exclusive benefit in evident that he mainly made his profession subservient his profession. On the contrary, it was perpetually to his pursuit of geology. His devotion to the science was evidenced by his receiving about this time a designation by which he was usually distinguished throughout his life from the innumerable multitude of Smiths who inhabit our island-namely, that of "Strata Smith." Dr James Anderson and other scientific gentlemen the world, and offered him such assistance as was in their power, which offers were repeated on the part of other men of eminence. In 1799, therefore, appeared a small "Tabular View of the Superposition of English Strata" and in 1801, a prospectus for an "Accurate Delineation and Description of the Natural Order of the Various Strata of England and Wales,” &c. This prospectus is in itself a brief compendium of the practical applications of geology, and displays the growing mastery of the subject, which was finally proved beyond a doubt by the appearance, in 1815, of the principal portion of his "Delineation of the Strata of England and Wales." This work was a large map, in fifteen coloured sheets, of the kind now known as geological maps, and was the unaided production of this one zealous geologist. Considered in this light, and also, indeed, of that of a near approach to general accuracy, its merits can scarcely be overrated. And although it was not long after followed by the more accurate map of Mr Greenough, it is not difficult to suppose that the formation of the latter was greatly facilitated by the labours of Mr Smith, at least in diffusing geological knowledge over a large portion of England. Nor must it be forgotten that he had long prepared the main parts of the map, but did not meet with sufficient encouragement to publish it. Sir Joseph Banks had become acquainted with our geologist in one of his visits to the agricultural meetings, called "sheep-shearings," at Woburn and Holkham, and afterwards proved a warm patron and the promoter of a subscription to assist the publications of our author.

He was wont to relate with peculiar zest the history of a long, but to him by no means tedious, travel which he undertook with two engineers, in 1794, to the north of England, for the purpose of collecting In 1804 Mr Smith had removed to London, and in information on canals and collieries. Seated foremost 1806 he published a treatise on irrigation. From this in the chaise, he explored every point of broken ground period up to 1815, he had attracted notice in various on two lines between Bath and Newcastle-on-Tyne; ways; and in that year, when his great map appeared, and, instructed by previous observations, he correctly the British Museum purchased his whole collection of interpreted the hieroglyphics presented by the con- fossils for L.500. The task of arranging these led to tours of distant hills, and traced, by aid of these and the publication of two small quartos, entitled, "Strata the form and position of escarpments, the strata of Identified by Organised Fossils" (1815); and “ StratiBath to the coast of Whitby, and the chalk of the graphical System of Organised Fossils" (1817), the Wiltshire downs to the wolds of Lincolnshire and latter being designed as an index to the specimens in Yorkshire. At this period of his life, Mr Smith the museum. Between the appearance of the great was entirely unacquainted with books on physical map in 1815 and 1821, Mr Smith published no less geography or natural history; although, even if he than twenty geological maps of English counties, often had been learned in their lore, there was little at remarkable for their near approach to accuracy. It that time published that could have materially as-is, however, painful to record the fact, that all his sisted him in his inquiries. His ignorance was efforts had been insufficient to ensure himself a modeproved by numerous particulars; and chiefly by his rate or even small competency. He was compelled to adoption of the local designations of the particular forego his residence in London, and in some degree to strata, and the employment of all such terms as would lead a wandering life in various parts of the country. be given and recognised in the respective neighbour- In 1824, he delivered a course of lectures on his hoods of the rocks. Many of these, however inhar- favourite science to the members of the Yorkshire monious-such as combrash, forest-marble, lias—are Philosophical Society, and repeated these the same still preserved in the alphabet of geology, while others year, in conjunction with his nephew (the well-known have yielded to more correct denominations. Professor Phillips, the author of several works on geological subjects), at Scarborough and Hull. In 1825, similar lectures were delivered at Sheffield, and efforts were made to secure some permanent engagement for Mr Smith. He at length was offered and accepted an occupation as agent to Sir John Johnstone, Bart., at the beautiful retreat of Hackness, near Scar borough. Here, as usual, he set himself to geological research, the result of which soon appeared in a map and a collection of fossils. I shall ever remember the hearty shake of a weathered hand with which he welcomed me to Hackness, whither I had repaired to reside for some time with him as his pupil. He, on this occasion, set myself and a friend who accompanied me down to a bread and cheese luncheon; but before our hunger was half appeased, he insisted on hauling us out to inspect the outline of the neighbouring hills. My friend, who professed no passion for practical geology, could not leave the cottage without casting at least "one longing, lingering look behind."

In 1795, when Mr Smith became a housekeeper, he began to arrange his collections of fossils from the vicinity of Bath, in the order of the strata; and before 1799 he had coloured geologically the large sheets of the Somersetshire survey, and a circular map of the vicinity of Bath, both remarkably accurate. By maps and sections, also, he explained to BIOGRAPHIC SKETCHES. numerous scientific gentlemen, who were attracted WILLIAM SMITH, THE "FATHER OF ENGLISH GEOLOGY." by the novelty of his system to visit him, those views relating to the regular succession and continuity of [FOR the advance of most sciences two kinds of men strata, and the definite distribution of animal and vegeare necessary-first, the active observing man who table remains in the earth, which are now placed in bustles about collecting facts, then the meditative the first lessons of geology. The great distinctive feareflecting man who systematises these facts and draws tures of Mr Smith's system were now clearly presented to his own mind and to the minds of others. They conclusions. Geology is eminently one of the sciences were these:-That the fossil productions of the several requiring two classes of cultivators. The first was more strata are not accidentally and confusedly distributed in particularly necessary forty or fifty years ago, when them, but that each species has its own peculiar place, the science only existed in its rudest elements. At as belonging to some particular stratum; that this that time there were two widely different men engaged species may be either confined to that stratum solely, or to that and other particular strata in conjunction; in investigating the aqueous rocks-the German mine- that in the first case it becomes an infallible test of superintendant Werner, a sublime genius, who theo- the identity of two strata occurring in two different rised before he had largely enough observed, and Wil- localities, and in the last case a collateral proof of that liam Smith, an English land-surveyor, who only could identity. Mr Smith arranged (for convenience of observe. To the latter, mainly, the world has been removal) the fossils in trays, letting down one above the other, in boxes of moderate dimensions; each box indebted for its knowledge of the order in which that commonly containing a collection of fossils from the class of rocks has been formed above each other—a same rock or stratum in various parts of England. piece of knowledge which has enlarged in the most As they were nearly all collected by his own hands, interesting manner our conceptions of the Creator's he could point with certainty to the proofs of his works, and added a new and wonderful volume to the and the theory was therefore fully established, and theory of identification of strata by organic remains; history of the world which we inhabit. Mr Smith is gradually made known and received. In all these only the more remarkable for this service, from his exhibitions and explanations, we are especially called being purely a practical man, one who had few oppor-upon to admire the liberality and frankness of his

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Mr Smith subsequently spent the main portion of his time at Scarborough, the vicinity of which is rich in objects of geological interest. He had, as early as 1817, planned the arrangements of the beautiful museum at that place, and it was erected and carried out upon his plan. The building is circular, and the fossils and geological and mineralogical contents are arranged in sloping shelves, one above the other, in such a manner that the circle presents a good silent lecture on the strata. The order of natural superposition is followed, and thus the positions and productions of the several strata are at once observed.

triumphantly proved in the instance of the Great The practical value of his knowledge has been most South Hetton Colliery in Durham. For, in 1821, Mr Smith recommended to Colonel Braddyl, the proprietor of the estate, to search for coal beneath the

magnesian limestone. The idea of such a search was always previously held to be one of very great uncertainty in its result, and by some was entirely scouted. The issue of the experiment has proved the most fortunate possible to Colonel Braddyl and others; for excellent coal has been obtained, although not without considerable difficulties in sinking the shafts.

Our geologist was intensely gratified, and partially rewarded for comparative obscurity, in the presentation to him, in 1831, by the Geological Society of London, of the first Wollaston medal, accompanied by a merited and eloquent eulogium by Professor Sedgwick, in the course of which he styled Mr Smith the "Father of English Geology." In the same year, also, the British Association, assembled at York, made application to government for a pension to Mr Smith, which was ultimately settled upon him for life, to the amount of L.100 annually. The crowning gratification of our philosopher was bestowed at Dublin, in 1835, when the University, during the meeting of the British Association in that city, conferred upon him the degree of LL.D. On the first day of the meeting of the association I encountered him, as I was hurrying to the assembly, in the street, and, ignorant of his new honour, cordially addressed him in the usual style of Mr Smith, which designation he instantly paused to assure me was defunct, and dilated with pardonable vanity upon his doctorship. Occasionally, on passing him during the day, I overheard him explaining to other friends the error into which their ignorance, like mine, had led them; and even on the last day of the meetings of the association, the same verbal correction was in process of being administered to the last ignorant delinquent. Several of his friends expected the pleasure of again conversing with him, in 1839, at the meeting of the British Association at Birmingham. Great, however, was our regret and surprise to hear, upon our arrival there, that Dr Smith had closed his life and labours at Northampton, September 23d, while on a visit to a friend, in his way to the meeting. It was a remarkable coincidence, that a wish of his, often half-jocularly and half-pensively expressed, had been realised in the site of the place of his death. He had often said that he wished he might close his labours on the stratum on which he had commenced them—namely, the oolite. Northampton is situated on the oolite! And in St Peter's churchyard repose, on that very stratum, the remains of "Strata Smith."

I have enumerated the titles of the principal publications of Dr Smith; but, with the exception of the great map and the other maps, they were usually but partially complete, and were obviously intended more as preludes to sustained efforts to be made, either by him or others, under more favourable circumstances. This admission does not detract from his justly earned fame, but it will account for the fact that their author has been almost forgotten, except among his immediate circle of friends. He was in the habit also, during many of his latter years, of recording his recollections and ideas based upon them, upon separate slips of paper, in a neat handwriting. These slips accumulated to a formidable extent so formidable, indeed, as to render the chance of their arrangement and reperusal very remote. He one day opened all these stores to me, and urged upon me the desirableness of reducing them to order and methodical arrangement. I undertook the task with some perseverance and ardour; but ultimately relinquished it, from the utter impossibility of accomplishing the project satisfactorily-as, indeed, such a loose mode of composition might naturally have led me to anticipate. It must not be concealed, however, that Dr Smith's views were not exactly accordant with the advanced state of geological science in his latter years. He could by no means be brought to acquiesce in the theories propounded by some of our bold modern investigators; nor was he always sparing in his attempts to disprove or disparage them, whether justly or not it is not my purpose here to determine. But I well remember with what an indignant zest he was occasionally wont to exclaim against the fashionable tendency to refer particular distortions or depositions to particular and secondary agency; and the modern readiness to create a special cause for every special event and effect. These dissertations he used generally to conclude by saying—“Ah! sir, these modern theorists only want to make out the Creator a journeyman!" Such pithy apothegms were frequently, for example, introduced in his discussions with me upon the vegetable origin of coal-a theory in which he was by no means disposed to acquiesce.

His brother geologists always very properly paid a due degree of respect to the venerable founder of their improved and certain system of observation; and hence seldom controverted his opinions so ardently as they might otherwise have been disposed to do. Hence, too, it was by common and ready consent that an honourable seat, amongst the chief men of the section, was always assigned to " Father Smith" at the meetings of the British Association. These meetings were, indeed, his glory and comfort in his declining days, and were looked forward to by him with a degree of intense interest that ordinary people could not understand or appreciate. I was present with him at every meeting of the association except the two first; and was always much delighted with the paternal interest with which he appeared to regard the proceed ings of his sons, if so they might be called-which is the more questionable, perhaps, as he considered some

his temperate and active habits, together with the healthy character of his pursuits, having kept him hale to the last.

THE YOUNG PRISONER OF THE
CONCIERGERIE.

Ar the period of the French Revolution, there re-
sided in Paris a family called Gerfeuil, consisting of
a father, mother, and one son, Edward Gerfeuil, who
was about fifteen years of age, a pretty, clever, inte-
resting boy, the darling of his parents' heart and the
pride of their eyes. But at the same time that he
was a source of unbounded comfort to them, he was
also a subject of the deepest anxiety; for at that
season of anarchy and peril, when no one's life or for-
tune was secure, they trembled at the thoughts of the
future that might await their innocent child. They
possessed a comfortable independent fortune, the whole
of which was designed for Edward; but who should
promise that he would ever inherit it? The slightest
imprudence on the part of the father or mother might
render them objects of suspicion; indeed, they might
become objects of suspicion without any imprudence
at all-they might be accused by an enemy, they
might be compromised by a friend, they might be
dragged to the scaffold any day without a moment's
warning, or they might be obliged to fly their country
with nothing but the clothes they had on their backs.
And what was to become of their Edward, bred in
affluence, nurtured in delicacy, educated in refine-
ment? Many and many an anxious hour did these
reflections cost Monsieur and Madame Gerfeuil.

of them very far from dutiful in their unruly attempts
at theorising. While we were one morning break-
fasting with Professor Sedgwick, at the Cambridge
meeting of the association, a very good-humoured
paternal correction was gently administered to the
accomplished professor, and most dutifully received
by him, although it does not appear by his subsequent
course that it was productive of serious effects upon
him.
Latterly, Dr Smith was afflicted with deafness to
some extent; but this did not prevent his attendance
at the several meetings of the association, and his
occupation of a doctor's chair in all seeming state.
Occasionally the lecturer for the day would turn aside
towards him, and utter in a louder key some compli-
mentary allusion to the "father of English geology"
whereupon it was most delightful and amusing to wit-
ness the conscious merit of the venerable philosopher,
and the warm respect of the illuminati around him.
These allusions, deaf as he was, he never failed to hear
and treasure up, to be retailed on all fitting occasions
to those who had not the privilege of hearing them at
their birth. But especially after his reception of the
Wollaston medal, I'imagine, no stranger was intro-
duced to Dr Smith without at the same time being
introduced by him to the medal. The old man
carried it about with him in its red leather case where-
ever he went, and was ever able to lay his hand upon
it at a moment's warning. Before the form of the
introduction of any stranger was well nigh completed
in all its ceremonies, the doctor's hand was in his
pocket, and in an instant he would commence, in a
kind of low utterance, “This is my medal," &c. Some
of us were scarcely able to restrain a smile upon such "I sometimes think," said Monsieur Gerfeuil one
occasions. Nor, if any stranger was present at break-day to his wife, "that it would not be a bad plan to
fast with him, were we unacquainted with what would make Edward learn a trade. In these times, when
prove the theme of conversation; and usually we so every body's fortune is so precarious, and when, with-
far gratified him as to prevail upon the servant to out any fault of our own, we may be in affluence to-
arrange things in a convenient manner; for, upon the day and beggars to-morrow, it would be advisable to
first break of the uniformity of the plate of bread and have something to fall back upon-some resource by
butter, the doctor would turn with a complacent which one might earn one's bread, in case of the worst
semi-smile to the stranger, and say " Now, that plate falling out."
of bread and butter occurs to me as a capital exem-
plification of the order of the strata. You see, they
crop out and overlie each other, just as the pieces of
bread do. There, you see, you may form a good
notion of the oolite beds by that arrangement. Sup-
pose we double these pieces, thus, we represent a
distortion," &c.

It will readily be conceived from these remarks that Dr Smith was an acute observer of common, and hitherto usually neglected, facts. To the last walk of his life, he geologised as he walked; and from the first days of his life he thereby acquired an invincible habit of looking on the ground if walking, and on the fields if riding. A spring in a field, a stone, a building, a quarry, a clay-pit, brick-field, lime-kiln, and even a ploughied field, were all made to minister to his favourite science, and all to minister well, though not always with novelty. By this perpetual observance of the qualities and properties of external objects, continued throughout an active life, he became not only an interesting companion to the unoccupied stroller, but a profitable fellow-traveller to the practical man. Hence he was appointed to accompany Mr Barry and other commissioners upon their investigations into the durability and suitableness of the stone for the new Houses of Parliament; and he frequently astonished these gentlemen by the accuracy of his local knowledge, and the verity of his predictions as to the course and quality of certain rocks. No opportunity of studying the properties of stone was neglected by him, and no time was deemed unsuitable by him for such inquiries. If attending a parish church to which he was a stranger, he was sure to spend some time before or after service in the churchyard, observing how far the stones had become worn by the weather in proportion to their age. I have more than once walked with him through such a scene, while he pointed out the stratum and locality from which every tombstone was derived.

My friend (above alluded to) who accompanied me to Hackness, was a zealous and most pious clergyman, and, as was his wont, immediately commenced a professional crusade against the man of science, in which, after numerous assaults, he had to confess himself foiled-not by the opposition of the philosopher, but by his perfectly quiet acquiescence in all he propounded, and his reception of the applied force without a particle of reaction, save that every remark of the professional man was dexterously directed by the philosopher to the advancement of geology. My pious friend raised the siege upon being most thoroughly deceived by the meditative appearance of Dr Smith on one occasion in Scarborough churchyard. The doctor was poring pensively over the tombstones, and thereby deluded my friend into the belief that his opportunity for instilling his advice was indubitably arrived a conclusion which he discovered to be hopelessly fallacious, when the real nature of the doctor's cogitations was made known.

"What could he learn ?" said Madame Gerfeuil. "We must consult him about it," answered the father. "For my own part, I should recommend printing, because the education he has received would there turn to some account, and he would find some occupation for his mind as well as his fingers.”

When Edward was consulted, he agreed that he should prefer printing to any other occupation; and as he promised himself a great deal of diversion from appearing in a part so new to him, he made no objection to the proposal. A working dress being therefore prepared for him, and a respectable establishment selected by his father, the youth commenced his apprenticeship; attending at the printing-office a certain number of hours every day, and receiving instruction in the various branches of his art.

The plan seemed to answer very well. Edward Gerfeuil was fast acquiring dexterity; and the father and mother were comforted to think that they had provided such a resource for their son in case of extremity, when a dreadful calamity befell them. A pamphlet supporting principles very obnoxious to the revolutionary tribunal, which had been circulating amongst the people, was traced to the printing-house of Monsieur Gros, and suddenly himself and all his workmen were arrested and carried off to the Conciergerie, and amongst them poor Edward Gerfeuil, who, although he had never seen the pamphlet, nor was aware of its existence, being at work in his printer's dress, shared the fate of his companions.

Who shall paint the alarm and distress of the parents on learning this intelligence; for, alas! how few were there who, once arrested on suspicion, ever escaped with their lives! What availed his youth ?— what availed his innocence? How many, as young and as innocent, perished weekly on the scaffold! And then, how bitterly they reproached themselves. Their over anxiety had been his destruction; and what to do to assist him they did not know. Even to prove his innocence, if innocence would have availed, was next to impossible; they had no acquaintance with any body in power; in all probability their motive for sending him to the printing-office would not be credited, if they told it; and they almost dreaded to raise a stir about him, lest by drawing attention to his case, and betraying that he was what would be called an aristocrat, they should only accelerate his fate.

In the mean time, poor Edward, after undergoing the form of an examination, in which he was only insulted when he attempted to explain who he was, and account for being found in such a situation, was dragged to the Conciergerie, and flung into a dungeon a dungeon under ground, too, for a French prison under the old régime was a dreadful place; they have since been much improved, as is always the case as countries become more civilised and enlightened. People then learn to know that the loss of liberty and the inevitable hardships of a jail, are punishments enough for slight offences, and all that we are entitled to inflict on unconvicted prisoners. But no such rays of mercy had yet reached the hearts or understandworse treated if he had robbed a church or committed murder. The poor boy's feelings may be imaginedtorn from his comfortable home and his tender parents, and transferred to the custody of a harsh turnkey, in a miserable cell, without light, without fire, with a

Dr Smith's moral conduct and character were most exemplary throughout his whole life; and his unfail ing kindness in circumstances of the most trying domestic affliction, were no less conspicuous and praise-ings of Edward's jailers, and he could not have been worthy than his unshaken fortitude in bearing up against pecuniary difficulties. It was remarkable that his cheerfulness and hilarity continued almost to the last day of his life. He died indeed of natural decay, at the age of seventy-one, and without pain;

said the mistress of the shop; "don't forget to call as you come past."

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No," answered the jailor. "Why do you ask?" "Oh, nothing particular," said the daughter; "only they were talking at the shop of somebody of that name being arrested."

wretched pallet to lie on, and dieted on bread and water. And to all these sufferings was added terror -the terror of what remained behind. Though Ed- "No, ma'am," replied Annette, involuntarily lookward had never seen the guillotine, he had heard tooing at the lady as she spoke, for she could not help much of it; and although, with the natural thought- fancying there was some mystery behind this matter lessness of youth, he had reflected little on the peril of the lace. The lady, too, looked at her, and said, in which all men lived, as long as that peril did not Pray, do not forget," and then she took her leave. approach himself or his parents, yet he had missed "Father," said Annette that night at supper, too many of his friends and neighbours from their "have you any prisoner here of the name of Rosaccustomed paths and daily whereabouts, not to com- beck?” prehend something of his own situation. Poor child! how did the darkness and the silence, too, frighten him! How eagerly he watched for the jailer's visits! how welcome was the gleam of his dull lantern! how he drank in the tones of his husky voice! and how he listened to the echo of his receding footsteps, and sighed when he heard them no more! Then he wondered so much if his father and mother knew where he was, and he trembled with the dreadful apprehension that they might not be able to trace him, and that he might some day be carried to execution without ever seeing or hearing from them again. What, too, if they had been arrested as well as himself? Then there would be none to interest themselves for him, and he might perish either in the prison or on the scaffold, without an arm being stretched out to save him.

It may well be conceived that all these horrors-the anxiety of mind, the bad living, the confinement, and the unwholesome air of his dungeon-were not long in showing their effects on a boy of fifteen. Poor Edward fell ill; the medical man that attended the jail had him removed to a cell a degree less wretched than the one he was in, and having with some difficulty saved his life, he ordered that he should take an hour's exercise every day in the court-a miserable place, surrounded by four high walls, little better than a dungeon open at top. However, such as it was, it was a great comfort to poor Edward, for here he at least caught a glimpse of the sky, and saw the faces of other human beings, although he was not allowed to address them; and many a kind glance cast upon the poor young captive, made him feel that there were yet tender hearts in the world, who could pity though they could not aid him

It happened that the jailer had a daughter, a girl about a year older than Edward, whose home was with her father at the prison, whither she returned cach night, whilst her days were spent in acquiring the art of dressmaking at a fashionable establishment in the Palais Royal. She thus very rarely saw any of the prisoners; but one Sunday, as her father was conducting Edward to take his daily walk in the court, she chanced to meet him, and, struck with his appearance of youth and suffering, she inquired the cause of his being there.

"It's very hard," said the jailer's wife, when she heard the account given by her husband, and who, being a mother, was disposed to feel for one so young. "I dare say he only printed what his master told him, without troubling himself to know the meaning of it. What should a child like that care about politics?" "It's no business of ours, wife," replied the man, who, though by no means particularly hard-hearted, was afraid to cultivate feelings of compassion, lest they should bring him into trouble. "We have nothing to do but to look after our prisoners, without inquiring into the right and wrong of their cases."

"That's true, indeed," said the wife; "walls have ears, and the least said is soonest mended." The impression made upon Annette's mind, however, was not so easily effaced; and the emaciated form and pallid cheeks of the young prisoner were often remembered when she was plying the needle at her daily toil.

66

They have not been brought here, then," answered the man; "indeed, we're quite full; but I suppose the guillotine will take some of them out of our way tomorrow."

"Not that poor young boy, I hope," said Annette. "Why, no," answered the father. "I don't think it will be his turn just yet. There are others will go before him."

On the following morning Annette, not without considerable curiosity, presented herself at the address given by Madame Rosbeck; and, on naming her errand, she was introduced into that lady's bed

chamber.

"Pray, sit down," said Madame Rosbeck. "I have desired my maid to bring the lace. In the mean time, let me give you a cup of chocolate. I am just going to take my breakfast." Annette would have been more surprised at an attention so unusual, had not her previous observations satisfied her that she was wanted to give some information, or to perform some service, of more importance than fetching the lace; so she accepted the invitation, and seated herself, saying, at the same time, that she could not wait long, as her presence would be required at the magazine.

"Since that is the case," said Madame Rosbeck, "I had better proceed at once to what I have to say to you. I am aware that you are the daughter of the jailer at the Conciergerie, and I daresay you have observed me in that quarter before this."

"Yes, ma'am," said Annette," I have; and I fancied that perhaps you had some relation or friend there you were anxious about."

“That is the truth,” said Madame Rosbeck; "there is a person there I would give the world to learn some tidings of. Do you think you could procure me any? -and would you, if you could?"

"I would very willingly, ma'am," said Annette; "but I know very little about the prisoners, and very rarely see any of them. But perhaps I might find out something from my father, though he is not fond of talking about them either. Is it a lady or a gentle

man ?"

"Oh, it's a child-a mere child!" exclaimed Madame Rosbeck, clasping her hands in agony; "it's my son-my only son !"

"I saw one poor boy there, who is allowed to walk in the court because he is ill," replied Annette; "but my father said his name was Gerfeuil."

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Oh, that is he !" cried the mother-" that is my poor Edward! I am Madame Gerfeuil; but I have taken this lodging in the name of Rosbeck, in order to be near my son, and that I may watch the tumbrils as they pass with the prisoners for execution, that I may be sure he is not amongst them. Then you have seen my poor child, and he is ill?" "He has been very ill," said Annette; "but he is now better." "Oh, if I could but see him!" exclaimed Madame Gerfeuil."

sistance of their friends, no visiters are admitted." "Could you give him a letter or a message from me?" asked Madame Gerfeuil.

"I don't think I could," answered Annette; "for the only chance I ever have of seeing him is as he is going to and from the court; but then my father is always close beside him."

"And is your father so very strict?"

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Very," said Annette; "he is obliged to be so. But if you will give me the letter, I'll keep it always in my bosom, and if any opportunity of giving it to him should offer, I'll do it."

"I fear that is impossible," replied Annette. "Since It may be imagined, at a period when so many inno-one or two of the prisoners escaped through the ascent and virtuous persons were thrown into prisons, and daily perishing upon the scaffold, that it was no uncommon sight to see their anxious friends hovering about the gate, and gazing at the walls which contained objects so dear, whom it was too probable they might never behold again. Annette's eyes were therefore too much accustomed to these melancholy visions to be generally much struck by them; but her attention had been drawn to the constant attendance and careworn countenance of a lady, who, she fancied, not only looked at her as if she had a great desire to address her, but whom she had observed, more than once, to follow her all the way to her magazine in the Palais Royal. She had also remarked this lady occasionally buying things in the shop; but as Annette worked in a back room, and only perceived this circumstance through a glass door, there was no opportunity of communication. At length, however, the lady ordered a dress to be made for her; but when the mistress of the establishment proposed to wait upon her to try it on, she offered to save her the trouble, by stepping into her back shop and having it done at once. There were several young people at work in the room, but Annette could not but observe that the stranger's eyes sought none but her. When she went away, she gave her name as Madame Rosbeck, and said she lived near the Pont Neuf; "and," continued she, glancing still at the jailer's daughter, "if any of your young people come from that quarter, I should be glad if she would call at my house tomorrow morning, on her way here, as I have some lace by me which I will send you to put upon my dress.'

"That will be in your road, Ma'amselle Annette,"

It was arranged that Annette should call for the letter at night; and after some more conversation, she took her leave, and pursued her way to the Palais Royal. Although a jailer's daughter, she was a girl of tender heart and kind feelings, and all day as she sat at her work her thoughts were upon the poor mother and son; and her young companions laughed at her silence and abstraction, and accused her of thinking of her lover, whilst she was taxing her ingenuity to find some contrivance for delivering the letter. But none could she hit upon. The only chance she ever had of meeting Edward was on a Sunday; but she had no excuse for going into the part of the building occupied by the prisoners, and had she not been sent with a message to her father, she would never have seen him at all; and even if she did contrive to throw herself in the way, the jailer was so watchful, that she feared it would be impossible to accomplish her object. And, accordingly, at the end of four weeks the letter was still in Annette's bosom, and poor Madame Gerfeuil as miserable and anxious as ever, except that the daily visits of the

young girl afforded her some little consolation. It was a slight comfort to her to speak to a person who dwelt under the same roof with her Edward, and to think that she had made a friend for him, powerless as that friend seemed to be.

Suddenly, however, about this time, a fresh access of fury and rage for executions seemed to seize on the minds of the blood-thirsty revolutionary tribunal; and Madame Gerfeuil was plunged into daily agonies of terror at hearing of the fearful rapidity with which their victims were hurried to the scaffold; and from the hints dropped by her father, even Annette began to tremble for her young protégé.

Madame Gerfeuil had a waiting-maid, a young person without father or mother, whom she had taken into her house when a child, and brought up. This girl, who was now about sixteen, was extremely attached to her mistress, and sympathised warmly with all the mother's anxiety for her son. "If I could but be the means of procuring his release," she often said to herself, "it would be some return for all I owe to Madame Gerfeuil. In the vague hope that some opportunity of being of service might offer, she neglected no means of cultivating the good-will of the jailer's daughter, who at length invited her, one Sunday, to supper; from which time she became a visiter in the family-a privilege she took care to make the most of, frequently contriving to meet her friend as she returned from the Palais Royal, where, having accompanied her as far as the gate of the Conciergerie, the jailer, on opening the door, would invite her in to see his wife; and thus, little by little, Madeleine had got on a footing of intimacy, and was a pretty constant visiter in Maitre Jacques's parlour. Having accomplished thus much, she next began to hint to Annette how possible it would be to possess themselves some evening of the jailer's keys, at an hour that he was not likely to miss them, and make their way to Edward's dungeon. "If he were only to see me for a moment, it would be such a comfort to him," said Madeleine;" and it might perhaps save the life of his poor mother, whose heart is breaking, and who, I am sure, will not live long if we cannot afford some relief to her anxiety."

Annette was not unwilling to do any thing she could for Madame Gerfeuil ; but she saw many difficulties in the way, and, above all, she dreaded her father's anger if their attempt were discovered. However, Madeleine contrived to overcome her objections, and the ensuing Sunday night was fixed upon for the enterprise.

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The young girls spent a good part of the day together, first attending mass, and then walking with their friends, till, at the approach of evening, they directed their steps towards the prison, each armed with a bottle of wine, which Madeleine had bought at a guingette, and which they carried under their shawls, wherewith to treat the jailer. "Whilst he is drinking, he will not be so likely to observe what we are doing," said Madeleine; and when she told Maitre Jacques that she had brought him a couple of bottles of good wine to make merry with at supper, he expressed himself extremely obliged for her kindness. But," said she, "you must do me a favour in return; you must let Annette go home and sleep with me tonight; to-morrow, you know, is a fête, and as she has a holiday, we have made a party to go to St Cloud; and we are to start very early that we may have a long day of it." To this proposal, fortunately, no ob jection was made; and, to cut short the narrative of the insidious proceedings of the two girls, the jailer's senses were lulled, the keys were taken possession of for only a few minutes, and the active pair reached the cell of the unfortunate Gerfeuil. In a moment he was in the arms of his faithful Madeleine, and inquiring for his dear mother. "She is quite well, and living in the next street, in order to be near you," answered the girl; and in a few hurried words she gave him the information which he was most urgent to have. "But there was one thing," continued she, "that your mamma particularly desired me to caution you about, in case you are brought up again for examination;" and as she spoke, she drew him gradually towards the door, whispering as if making some private communication, whilst Annette, whose limbs had almost failed her through fear, seated herself on the side of the bed.

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The door was ajar, the key on the outside-"Now run!" said Madeleine, thrusting him out; and in moment more they were both hurrying along the passages by the light of the lantern which she had taken care to carry herself. When they reached a convenient spot, she paused, and taking off a loose upper dress, and a shawl, with which she had provided herself, she disguised Edward in this female attire, and completed it by placing on his head a drawn muslin bonnet, which being pliable, she had also contrived to conceal about her person. She had too carefully marked the road as she came along to miss it now; and presently they found themselves at the door of the jailer's parlour. 'Now," said she to Edward, placing him in a dark corner, "stand there, and when I come out take hold of my arm; but don't speak for your life;" and she entered the room. "Maitre Jacques," said she, shaking the jailer by the arm, for he was still asleep, "how can you keep us waiting so ? Here are Annette and I wanting to get out; and I shall get into trouble if I stay here so late. Pray, do come and open the gate for us."

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"Eh!” said Maitre Jacques, rubbing his eyes and

shaking himself awake, "what do you want? Where
are you going?"
"Home to bed, to be sure," replied she.
"You
know you gave Annette leave to go home with me to-
night. Come, do open the gate, will you? We can't
wait any longer."

"Annette! Where is Annette?" said Maitre
Jacques.
"Here, at the door, waiting for you. Come, do
make haste;" and she half dragged the drowsy jailer
from his seat, and led him towards the door. "Come,
Annette," said she, taking Edward under her other
arm; "your father will let us out now;" and they
proceeded towards the gate-the key was at the jailer's
belt-he opened it, and in an instant more they were
in the street, and the fearful gate locked behind them.
Through cross streets, and at first with a deliberate
pace, lest whilst near the prison they might excite
suspicion, they traversed a considerable part of the
city, till at length Madeleine stopped at the door of a
house unknown to Edward. "This is not papa's,"
said he. "No," said she; "it would not be safe to take
you home; you must be concealed here for the pre-
sent." In that house dwelt an old servant of Mon-
sieur Gerfeuil, to whom the family allowed a pen-
sion, and on him Madeleine knew she might rely with
confidence. Her reliance was not disappointed. Ed-
ward was gladly received; and, continuing to wear
the dress of a female, he remained there several weeks,
and Madeleine with him; till, favoured by the dis-
guise, it was thought possible to remove them both
from Paris; and not till then, so fearful were they of
betraying the place of his concealment, did the anxious
father and mother permit themselves the happiness
of beholding their rescued child. It is gratifying to
be able to add, that, except her father's displeasure
and her own terror, poor Annette suffered no ill con-
sequences from the adventure. When Edward's
name appeared in the list of those to be sent to the
scaffold, Maitre Jacques contrived to persuade the
authorities that he had been executed some time
before; and as he was not a person of sufficient con-
sequence to excite much inquiry, and as they had
plenty of heads to cut off without his, after a little
blustering and pretence at investigation, the affair
was suffered to die away, and was forgotten.

Edward and his parents escaped to England, where he found the means of putting the knowledge he had acquired in his profession to some use-indeed, the greatest which can be supposed, the support of himself, and an aid to that of his parents. Thus, for several years, did the family remain in London till the Reign of Terror was over, and refugee emigrants found it safe to return to their native country. One of the first acts of the Gerfeuils, on being restored to their property, was to seek out Madeleine, to whose fidelity they owed so much, and to place her beyond the reach of want for the remainder of her existence.

LETTERS FROM A LADY IN LONDON TO
HER NIECE IN THE COUNTRY.

VISIT TO THE BRITISH MUSEUM.

MY DEAR JANE,-I never stir abroad in this wonder-
exciting place without feeling a kind of desire for the
possession of a more acute degree of perception than
seems to be requisite at other times, or under other
circumstances a wish for more than the ordinary
complement of eyes and ears, so as to be enabled to
catch as much as possible of what is continually pass-
ing around; but were one's head placed on a pivot,
and studded round and round with eyes, each organ
of vision being multiplied in its power an hundred-
fold, yet would there still be a disproportion between
the objects to be seen and the power of observing.
This was experienced in all its force while visiting
the British Museum the other day; and although the
objects there are stationary, affording a hope that if
you cannot undertake their inspection all in one day,
you can return again as often as you please, yet there
is on all sides so much to interest, that the eye, in-
stead of becoming fatigued, gets engrossed by the
curious and wonderful variety of things presented to
its notice, and looks greedily around, as if desiring to
comprehend all at once.

I regret having deferred my visit to this extraordinary place until my time was so far spent, that a survey, which might be profitably extended over a period of weeks, was necessarily condensed into a few hours; yet in this comparatively short time I was enabled to form a pretty comprehensive idea of the institution generally, and had the gratification of seeing some things of peculiar interest, not usually exhibited, of which I shall here endeavour to give you some ac

count.

The British Museum is the property of the nation, large sums having been expended from time to time by government in the purchase of extensive and valuable collections amassed by various private individuals, whose pursuits and tastes led them to take an interest in whatever was curious in nature or valuable as works of art. To these have been added vast collections of books of the most costly and rare description, amounting to many hundred thousands of volumes, besides manuscripts, some of them of great antiquity; drawings, engravings, and prints, all of which have either been secured by expensive purchase, or have been presented as gifts by various distinguished individuals. The building now appropriated to the purposes of the museum

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was formerly a nobleman's private mansion, purchased animals which are found petrified in rocks, and of
about the middle of last century by the trustees of the which so many are strikingly different from any ani-
museum. This building has been extended from time mals which now exist. Although I was familiar with
to time, so as to accommodate the constantly accumu- many of these extinct forms of being, from seeing
lating stores by which the museum has become en- them delineated in books of geology-indeed, the ori-
riched room after room and gallery after gallery ginals of some of the most remarkable of these pic-
have been added, and still the accommodation is ina- tures are assembled here-I could not help being
dequate to the constantly increasing demand. The astonished at the large size of some of them. The
house itself is situated in Great Russell Street, ichthyosaurus and plesiosaurus require cases extend-
Bloomsbury, and is hid from observation by a brick ing along the whole side of a large room to contain
wall of considerable height. A large gate, closed and them. What tremendous creatures they would have
guarded by two soldiers, admits the visiter to a square appeared to any one who saw them dabbling and
court. The main building is on the side facing the swimming in their native seas; but we know that no
entrance-gate, and is flanked by wings on each side, human eye ever did see them in life, for the rocks
those forming the sides of the court, which is thus above them show that they were extinct a vast period
occupied on three sides by buildings. These wings of time before man was created! The remains con-
serve as the residence of the principal persons con- sist of bones only, and these are seen partly imbedded
nected with the establishment; that on the left hand, in slabs of the rock in which they have been found.
on entering, being the dwelling-house of Sir Henry I was scarcely less struck by the vast size of some
Ellis, who is chief superintendant. Monday, Wed-head-bones of extinct quadrupeds, which are exhibited
nesday, and Friday, are the three days of the week on
in this room.
which the museum is open to the public gratuitously; We next proceeded to the series of rooms appro-
but on these days the visiters are in general so nume-priated to the reception of Egyptian antiquities; and
rous, amounting sometimes to eight or nine thousand here a new world seemed to open up in the contem-
daily, that a distinct or leisurely view of the various plation of objects in themselves curious, and rendered
objects is difficult of attainment. I therefore gladly still more so by their excessive age. The first of this
availed myself of the polite offer of Mr Jossi, a gentle- series of apartments is called the New Egyptian Room,
man connected with the museum, who courteously which is a large and handsomely-finished saloon, lighted
tendered his services as a guide through the different from the roof, and arranged in such a manner that
departments, on a private day, by which means we the contents are seen to the utmost advantage.
were enabled to roam at will through the seemingly
endless galleries and saloons. For this obligation I
can scarcely express my gratitude in terms suffi-
ciently warm, as I was not more impressed by the
sacritice of time which it involved, than by the
benefit derived from the intelligent remarks of my
conductor.

The walls, as usual, are graced by glass cases, and
the floor is occupied by a number of oblong cases of
about four feet in height, six or seven in length, and
perhaps three feet in width at the base, tapering gra-
dually to one half the width at the top. These cases
are entirely composed of glass, and contain mummies,
or cases from which mummies have been taken, which
On passing through the courtyard, we entered, by a are thus seen all round. In some of these there are
door in the centre building, a large hall adorned divisions or shelves, so that one case sometimes con-
with statues-one, of the late Sir Joseph Banks. A tains three mummied figures placed horizontally. Two
broad staircase, leading from the left side, conducts to shades of larger dimensions than the rest, resembling
the upper floor. This staircase and the roof of the in their form little glass houses, are occupied each by
hall are painted, the subjects representing scenes from a single coffin, placed on a pivot; they can thus be
the heathen mythology, executed by a French artist, made to revolve, so that the Egyptian characters by
Charles de la Fosse. From the top of the stairs we which these coffins are ornamented can be seen from
were conducted through several apartments, the walls any point. These gay receptacles of the dead are
of which were surrounded by glass cases containing very large, being at least twice the depth of the coffins
various objects of curiosity, such as Esquimaux dresses, now in use; but then they were made to receive not
weapons, &c. ; but as there was something more attrac- only the body, which, with its swaddling-cloths, must
tive in the apartments beyond, we made our way to have required a considerable deal of room, but they
the first saloon, a long and spacious room, lighted from also held articles of various sorts, it being customary
the roof. The Print-Room, which leads off from one in ancient Egypt to entomb, along with the body,
end of this saloon, contains engravings and prints many of the articles with which the deceased had
amounting in value to upwards of one hundred thou- been surrounded while living. You will, I have no
sand pounds, which are intrusted to the care of Mr doubt, feel interested in learning, that in some baby
Jossi. The saloon is furnished with cases with glass coffins, the playthings of the little occupants have
fronts, all along the sides of the wall, the shelves of been found, showing that the care of an Egyptian
which are filled with the natural history department-mamma for the amusement or gratification of her
four-footed animals of all nations, some of them children extended even beyond the grave, or at least
exceedingly curious.
beyond the period of life. These playthings consist
of dolls, balls, and little moveable figures of animals,
both of the human and the brute species, not unlike
the toys of the present day. It is strange to see in a
quiet street in London, objects that have formed the
amusement of children three or four thousand years
ago! And we may imagine, that in nursing and ca-
ressing these dolls, the youthful Egyptians exercised
their faculty of philoprogenitiveness with the same
zeal, and derived as much diversion from the exercise,
as do the little mimic nurses of our own times.

The room succeeding this is of similar construction, and contains specimens of birds, properly classified; and here we are instructed in the equality which nature observes in distributing her gifts, by finding that those little feathered creatures, whose beautiful exterior we should most admire, are dumb as regards song. Some of the foreign birds are wonderfully beautiful, their plumage exhibiting the utmost variety of hue, blended together with the most exquisite harmony as regards arrangement of colour. But it is vain to linger here, however great the attraction. These rooms are traversed by long mahogany tables, covered with glass cases, in which are arranged shells, corals, and other treasures of the deep; the shells of all sizes, from the largest down to those which are so small as to be scarcely perceptible and yet, on inspection, they are, in their minute formation, as complete, and as well adapted to the accommodation of their little tenants, as those of the largest proportions. The walls above the cases are graced by portraits, the greater number of them of persons who have been contributors to the museum.

The Mineral Room next claimed our attention: a large apartment, the first of a series running in another direction from those we had just issued from, and occupied by long tables with glass cases, enclosing the various articles of mineral production. Specimens are here exhibited of gold and silver, of diamonds, and other stones which we are in the habit of looking upon as precious, all in their rough state as taken from their native earth. Our attention was particularly directed to some fragments of remarkably large meteoric stones which have fallen from time to time in various parts of the world. These stones have more the appearance of metal than stone, being largely impregnated with iron, nickel, &c. The largest fragment is part of a large mass which fell at a place in Alsace (Upper Rhine), in the latter part of the year 1492. This stone weighed 270 pounds, and was preserved till the period of the French Revolution in the Cathedral of Ensishiem, when, for better security, it was deposited in the public library of Colmar. Another specimen, being part of a stone of 56 pounds, which fell in Yorkshire in 1795, is also shown, along with many others. It will perhaps be in a great measure new to you, that showers of stones fall from the air with what may be called frequency, when the whole surface of the globe is considered.

An adjoining room is devoted chiefly to fossil zoology, that is, to the reception of those remains of

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Some of the things in this room are in admirable preservation; in one of the side cases on the left there is a wig found in a tomb at Thebes, which has all the appearance of having just come from the hands of the most skilful perruquier, whereas the exquisite for whom it was constructed has been amongst the things that were for a period of nearly four thousand years-possibly the occupant of one of those elaborately-ornamented coffins, bearing date as many centuries before the Christian era as have elapsed since that period. This Theban peruke is considerably larger than those now in use, excepting, perhaps, the wigs of barristers or judges. The upper part is in excellent curl, while from these curls depend long narrow braids, or plaits, which hang in bunches on each side.

The natural hankering of womankind after personal ornaments, draws us instinctively towards one of the cases containing necklaces, rings, brooches, and other articles of jewellery that have graced in their day the persons of some of the daughters of Egypt. The stones composing these trinkets are of various sizes and colours, some of them like beads, and others of a flat form linked together with gold. Many of the ornaments are in the form of animals, wrought either in gold, or carved out of precious stones; some of these have been perhaps used as talismans, and were most likely suspended from the neck. The beetle was held in great veneration by the Egyptians, from the circumstance of its being supposed to possess a superior degree of intelligence, and hence the cause of its being perpetuated in all imaginable sizes and ways. There are beetles of gold, of silver, and of stones of all colours, executed in the most spirited

manner.

In this room are collected all descriptions of things used for domestic purposes in Egypt-articles of furniture, such as chairs, stools, and tables, besides ornaments, as vases, &c.; boxes for ointments and colours used by the Egyptian belles on their dressing-tables;

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