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and is neat and substantial in appearance. Here we crossed the Aar; and, at the distance of little more than a mile beyond the town, came upon the equally if not more beautiful vale of the Reuss; then, crossing this stream also, at a short distance beyond, having gained another rising ground, we had before us the river Limmat, rolling onward through a similarly beautiful vale. The spectacle was striking, and telling Louis to give the horses a rest, we descended to examine it at our leisure. Advancing from the road to a position where we could command the most advantageous view, the three valleys lay stretched out in their varying sinuosities before us, the mountainous country on the south, whence the waters originated, gradually declining in height, till the dividing boundaries of the three rivers melted into a common centre, and the waters were conjoined into a single stream. These waters are the drainage of all central and northern Switzerland, and we afterwards had occasion to visit their main sources-the lakes of Brienz and Thun, whence issues the Aar; the lakes of Zug and Lucerne, which contribute the Reuss; and the lake of Zurich, which sends forth the Limmat. All are of a lightish green colour, and to our eye the Reuss appeared the largest of the trio. In the race to effect a junction of streams, the Reuss also falls first into the Aar, which, thus vastly increased, runs on a short way till struck upon by the Limmat; the Aar, therefore, has the honour of imparting its name to the united waters, which, after flowing a distance of ten miles to the north, fall into the Rhine and double it in size; the other or primary branch of the Rhine being a similar drainage from above the lake of Constance, and flowing by Schaufhausen to this spot, where it is thus so largely increased.

We spent so much time over this scene of beauty, and I should add historical interest-for the spot before us, on the peninsula formed by the junction of the Aar and the Reuss, was in early ages the site of the great Roman station of Vindonissa, within the broad limits of which, in after times, rose the castle of Hapsburg-that twilight began to draw its curtain around us, while still several miles from our restingplace for the night; and resuming our journey, by a road up the left side of the Limmat, which impetuously shot on its way between high woody banks, the broad disk of the autumnal moon rose over the distant eminences, and, guided by its gentle light, we arrived in due time at the gates of Baden.

Here there was some little difficulty. Originally built under the shadow of a feudal castle on an adjoining height, now in ruins, Baden is at present a walled town, greatly deteriorated by poverty, and we had no wish to have any thing to do with it. A huge vaulted portal, in its decayed wall, stood hospitably open, the doors having been long since removed, and the idea of defence laid aside; but this offered no inducement for our entering the place, and, conducted by Louis, we turned off by a path to the left in search of the boarding-houses at the springs-in fact, the true or practical Baden, the ancient town being only Baden theoretical. Our way was down a long declivity closely overhanging the Limmat, which we heard rushing beneath us, but could scarcely see, as the lofty bank on the farther side shut out the moon's beams from the profound hollow into which we were slowly descending. By Louis's care, we were at length safely landed within the courtyard of the Stadthof, an extensive hotel and boarding-house.

On the morrow, when awakened by the sound of voices without, we found ourselves lodged in a building most romantically situated within the margin of the river, and which was evidently crowded with visiters. We had seen no scene so singular since leaving home. The small town was composed of an irregular cluster of buildings of high and low degree, but mostly hotels of great size, planted at the bottom of the steep bank, and leaving only space for a shady promenade along the side of the Limmat. On the opposite or left bank the ground was equally precipitous, but facing the south was laid out principally as vineyards, with a strip of a village at the foot, to which a wooden bridge gave the readiest access. Among the various hotels and lodging-houses in different quarters, there was a concourse of visiters from Germany as well as distant cantons of Switzerland, fully as numerous as at Spa, but much less distingué than at Baden-Baden. The spot has been celebrated since the days of the Romans for its sanative waters, which are hot and of a sulphureous quality. There are sixteen springs, all rising within perhaps thirty feet of the river: one gushes out near the walls of the Stadthof, within the bed of the stream, and has been covered with a neat stone building, from which the water is drawn for the use of the baths. The aggregate quantity of water thrown up is about a hundred gallons per minute, the springs flowing with equal vigour and heat both day and night. The temperature, if I might judge from feeling, was about 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Every hotel has a spring and baths, the former rushing out as an everrunning fountain in an open court or covered arcade, to which all residents have access. For the benefit of the public, or, properly speaking, visiters of a poorer order, there is a free rountain in the confined patch of street, and here in early morning hundreds were in attendance. I was told that the sending of poor patients to the baths and springs is performed as a conscientious duty by the authorities of almost every canton; public contributions are also made at the bath-houses for the benefit of the humbler order of

visitants. Some idea of the great estimation in which the waters are held, may be obtained from the fact that between the 6th of June and 26th of September 1840, 19,530 persons had arrived and spent more or less time in attendance. The bulk of the residents at the time of our visit were a more respectable body of people than we saw any where else in Switzerland in one spot. There were apparently few or no French or English; and the amusements consisted either in loitering about the beautiful banks of the Limmat or making excursions in chairs and on the backs of donkeys to various scenes of interest in the neighbourhood.

THE KNIGHTS OF MALTA. THE institution of the Knights of Malta was one of greater importance and utility in its day than is generally imagined. However slight may be the merit accruing from the Crusades for the recovery of the Holy Land, they are entitled to share in it largely; but they have higher claims, of a much later date, upon the gratitude of the Christian world. Almost by the unaided exertions of this band of brothers, the Ottoman power was held in check, and its extension materially impeded, on the eastern coasts of Europe. This was a great service to the whole of that continent. The Knights of Malta effected, on the bosom of the Mediterranean, what John Sobieski effected on the plains of Austria; and their names should be embalmed along with his in the memory of Christendom. Towards the middle of the eleventh century, when the Holy Land was entirely in the power of the Mahommedans, the Egyptian caliph, Monstaser-Billah, was induced to permit the erection of a Christian chapel in the city of Jerusalem, with two hospitals, one of them dedicated to St John the Almoner. These were intended for the relief of the numerous pilgrims who then visited Palestine from all Christian countries. After Godfrey of Bouillon conquered the Holy City in 1099, the Hospital of St John became a place of great note as an establishment for healing the wounded and the sick, and was converted by Gerard, its rector, from a secular to a religious institution. He, with his brothers and sisters of charity, formally abjured the world, and assumed as their dress a black gown, having on the left breast a white cross. At the same time, a number of illustrious crusaders, burning with pious zeal, entered the body; and Godfrey of Bouillon endowed it with lands in Brabant. His example was speedily followed by other princes and barons of Europe, until the order grew wealthy, and founded many new houses both in Asia and Europe. The next step was the conjunction of the military with the religious character. Raymond du Puis succeeded to the rectorship; and, having been a brave soldier in his day, he was induced, by the reiterated attacks made on the Christians at their first settlement in the East, to propose to his companions, most of them old soldiers like himself, to join the profession of arms to their other duties. The summons sounded like a trumpet in the ears of the veterans, and Raymond du Puis became the first Grand-master of the Order of the Knights-Hospitallers of St John. Three classes were established in the order-that of the Knights, who were required, at first at least, to prove a noble extraction; that of Chaplains, who were non-military; and that of Half-Knights, or Serving Brothers, who were not of high birth, and whose duties lay both in the hospital and the field. The establishment of commanderies, as the houses were called, in different countries, rendered it proper to establish divisions called Languages in the order, as one for England, one for Germany, and so on. These were at first seven, and finally nine in number. Noble youths from all Europe soon swelled the order of the Hospitallers into a numerous force, and one of great strength, in times when a single mounted knight, cased in armour, was a match for half a dozen of the ordinary soldiery. Their wealth also enabled them to hire large bodies of mercenaries to aid in their enterprises; and their European houses, or commanderies, served as depôts, whence auxiliaries were continually drafted to the wars.

master of the order, seeing the hopelessness of any secure settlement of it on lands not its own, projected a great and important conquest-that of the island of Rhodes. Rhodes is about one hundred and twenty miles in circumference, and close on the coast of Asia Minor. It was at this time nominally a possession of the Greek emperor, Andronicus; but in reality was in the power of Saracenic pirates, mixed with Greeks of the same stamp. Fulk de Villaret gathered his war-galleys, and made a bold descent on the isle. The resistance was obstinate, and years elapsed ere the knights succeeded in planting the standard of the white cross on the walls of Rhodes. But they persisted in the siege till they made it their own.

The fate of the Knights Templars, almost at this very moment, showed the importance and necessity of such a fixed settlement. Returning to its European commanderies, this wealthy order, the rival of that of the Hospitallers in fame and power, became soon a subject of jealousy and avaricious envy to the monarchs of the time, and especially to Philip of France. In concert with the pope, that sovereign, under colour of forged charges of criminality, wrested its property from the order, and subjected its members to imprisonment, tortures, and death. Other countries also abolished the order, but without the same accompanying barbarities. Philip of France was partly disappointed, for the Pope forced him to accede to a general edict, giving the Templar possessions to the Knights of St John.

The latter body was greatly increased in power by these accessions, and it became more common than ever for the younger nobility of Europe to enter the order of the Hospitallers. Riches brought with it augmented luxury and many evils, but the knights were still kept in high military condition. A new race of the followers of Mahommed appeared against them. Othman (the Bone-Breaker), who gave a permanent name to the Turkish nation, possessed, with a tribe of Turkomauns, the region of Asia Minor adjoining Rhodes. He attacked the knights in their city; but, though one of the most tried and renowned warriors of his race, he failed to make the slightest impression on them. Similar assaults were renewed in more alarming shapes in the course of the years immediately succeeding. Betwixt the year 1310, when the order settled at Rhodes, and the year 1453, when the Turks took Constantinople, and founded a new empire, the Knights of St John fought many great battles, by sea and land, with the two Mahommedan powers in their neighbourhood, the Egyptian and Turkish. It is amazing to reflect, that this comparatively small body of men should not only have foiled so many efforts made by these powerful sovereignties to reduce them and take their stronghold, but should have even obtained possession of Cos and other Greek islands, captured Smyrna and held it for a long period, and made various expeditions against Syria and other places, as if possessed of the population and resources of a strong and warlike nation. They proved an unextractible thorn in the sides of the focs of Christianity.

Our space will only permit of a mere sketch being given of the career of the order; but we may allude specially to one event, the most important in its annals. The hour came at length for the fall of Rhodes, after the knights had held it for more than two hundred years. Solyman the Magnificent resolved at any price to oust them from their stronghold. We quote from Sutherland's history of the order, in the passage that follows. In June 1522, "a signal from Mount St Stephen intimated to the Rhodians that the Turkish fleet was in sight. Countless sails studded the Lycian Strait; and tumult and wailing instantly rose from every quarter of the city. The gates were formally shut, and public prayers were offered up in the churches, imploring Heaven to grant the victory to the champions of the Cross. This done, the whole population hurried to the ramparts and towers, to behold the terrible armament that threatened them with destruction. Four hundred sail swept past the mouth of the haven with the pomp and circumstance of a triumphal pageant; and on board this mighty fleet were 140,000 soldiers, exclusive of 60,000 serfs, torn from the forests of the Danube, to serve This formidable body remained in Palestine during as pioneers." Six hundred knights, with less than the entire period of its occupation, complete or par- five thousand regular troops, and a comparatively tial, by the Latin Christians, witnessing the whole of weak body of citizens and peasants, formed the whole the nine crusades, rendered necessary by the inveterate force prepared to oppose this immense armament, determination of the Mahommedans to recover their the leader of which, Solyman in person, told his troops lost possessions. During all this time, they existed that he had come to Rhodes to conquer or die." but to fight, having scarcely one month of perfect For upwards of three months, the most awful scenes repose; and in fight they exhibited the most despe- of carnage took place daily, after the siege had begun. rate valour on all occasions, though the abstemious- For one man who fell among the knights, twenty fell ness of their rules was relaxed by degrees. They re- among the Turks; but even this proportion was ruinmained in the Holy Land after kings and barons had ous to the former. In one assault, fifteen thousand all yielded up the cause in despair. At length, in the Turks were slain. By degrees, every one of the ramyear 1291, the Sultan Saladin drove them from their parts of Rhodes was in ruins, yet still the knights and last stronghold of Saint John d'Acre, and compelled their grand-master, a venerable old man, were unconthem to take refuge in Cyprus, then under a Latin querable. They filled the breaches with their mailed king. They there summoned all their commanderies bodies. Frequently, Solyman half-resolved to give to send members and supplies, and were soon enabled up the struggle, and frequently he threatened his offionce more to establish themselves as a powerful naval cers with death for their want of success. He proas well as military body. Their views were to harass posed various capitulations, and by capitulation was the Mahommedans of Syria and Egypt by sea. One the siege finally closed. The knights were unvanexpedition more they made against the Saracens of quished, but Rhodes was untenable. Twelve days were Jerusalem; but they found both that city, and the given them to embark their property; and, on the 1st other fortresses of the country, to be in so ruinous a of January 1593, the remnant of the Rhodian Chrisstate, that the approach of the Egyptian sultan forced tians went on board their galleys, a homeless band. them to fly to their ships. It was immediately after Before that departure, Solyman, who had in him great this step that Fulk de Villaret, twenty-fourth grand-points of character sought an interview with L'Isle

Adam, the grand-master. "For a time the two warriors eyed each other with piercing glances. The venerable and majestic port of the grand-master won the admiration of the youthful despot; and he magnanimously requested his interpreter to console the Christian chief with the assurance, that even the bravest of men were liable to become the sport of fortune. He invited him, at the same time, to embrace the Mahommedan faith, and enter his service, since the Christian princes, who had abandoned him in his extremity, did not merit the alliance of so redoubted a chief; and, by way of a bribe, promised to advance him to the highest dignities in his empire, and make him one of his chosen councillors. The grand-master answered, that were he to dishonour his grey hairs by becoming a traitor and renegade, he would only show how unworthy he was of the high opinion which his conqueror entertained of him; and that he would far rather retire into obscurity, or part with life itself, than be accounted a recreant and apostate by his own people. -Solyman dismissed the venerable knight with honour; and said to Achmet Pasha, who was in attendance, It is not without regret that I drive this unfortunate old man, full of sorrow, from his home.""

The Knights of St John had still their commanderies, rich and powerful, over Europe, though Henry VIII, about this very time, abolished the order in England. But their importance was yet sufficient to procure for them the cession of the island of Malta, where their numbers were soon recruited. Removed in some measure, however, from the sphere of Turkish and Egyptian operations, the knights came now into hostility with new enemies of their faith. The African coasts swarmed at this time, as they also did at a much later date, with pirates, who filled their coffers with gold, and their dungeons with captives, from the European states. In concert with the Emperor Charles, the Knights of Malta undertook a great expedition against the two Barbarossas, the most famous pirates of the day, who had gained sovereign power in Algiers and Tunis, by expelling the rightful princes. Tunis and Goletta were conquered on this occasion, chiefly by the dauntless valour of the Knights of St John, and the rightful governments were re-established. But, in a future expedition, the order lost a great force before Algiers, and a garrison of theirs was expelled with vast loss from Tripoli.

For the next half century, the knights waged incessant war with the piratical Mahommedans, both of Africa and the Turco-Grecian islands. The importance of their services to European commerce was fully shown by the renewed attempts of the Ottoman Porte to suppress them. In 1565, one great attempt was made by 30,000 Turks on the island. The assault of the small fort of St Elmo will show the bravery of the knights in a fair light :-"At daybreak on the 16th of June, the Turkish galleys commenced a furious cannonade against the seaward rampart; and at the same time the land batteries shattered into ruin the still remaining fortifications. This done, the Osmanlis entered the ditch to the sound of their proud but barbarous music; and, at the discharge of a signalgun, rushed impetuously to the assault, covered by 4000 harquebusiers and cross-bowmen, who, from their post in the trenches, shot down every Christian soldier who showed himself in the breach. Behind that deadly gap stood the knights and their scant battalion, armed with pikes and spontoons, and forming, as it were, a living wall. Between every three soldiers stood a knight, the better to sustain the courage of those who had nothing of chivalrous renown to uphold them. In vain did the Turks dash themselves on this impenetrable phalanx. When swords and pikes were broken, the Christian soldiers grappled with their antagonists, and terminated the death-struggle with their daggers. The burning hoops were of eminent service in this combat; and the cries of the wretches whom they begirt, added greatly to the horror of the fight. It was a cheering circumstance to the defenders of the fort, that the conflict was maintained under the eyes of their friends in the Bourg, who they feared had begun to doubt their bravery. Amid the thunder of the artillery, and the groans of the dying, their ears were gladdened at intervals by encouraging shouts wafted across the haven from the distant ramparts; and the guns of Forts St Angelo and St Michael played incessantly, and with considerable effect, on the Turkish lines. At the end of six hours, the knights, covered with wounds, and blistered by the scorching rays of the sun, had the consolation to hear a retreat sounded from the enemy's trenches; and the Turks reluctantly retired, leaving behind them 2000 dead." When the last defender fell, the Turks became masters of St Elmo. But they were ultimately driven from the island, with a loss of 25,000 men.

WAR.

opposition, took possession of the island. The inhabitants seem to have been utterly tired of the rule of the knights; and the latter ceded Malta to the French, What, speaking in quite unofficial language, is the net by a treaty which bound them at once to quit the isle. purport of war? To my own knowledge, for example, They received petty annuities in lieu of this their anthere dwell and toil, in the British village of Dumdrudge, cient possession. usually some five hundred souls. From these, by certain The British expelled the French; but the knights"natural enemies" of the French, there are successively returned to Malta no more. An attempt at the re-selected, during the French war, say thirty able-bodied establishment of the order was made by Paul of Rus- nursed them; she has, not without difficulty and sorrow, men: Dumdrudge, at her own expense, has suckled and sia, which ended in nothing. Thus fell the renowned fed them up to manhood, and even trained them to brotherhood of the Knights Hospitallers of St John. crafts, so that one can weave, another build, another The extent of their possessions at one time, as well hammer, and the weakest can stand under thirty stone as those of the Tempiars, is shown by the numberless avoirdupois. Nevertheless, amid much weeping and places, in Britain and elsewhere, to which they have swearing, they are selected; all dressed in red, and permanently given names. shipped away at the public charge, some 2000 miles, or say, only to the south of Spain; and fed there till wanted. And now, to that same spot in the south of Spain, are thirty similar French artisans, from a French Dumdrudge, in like manner wending; till at length, after infinite effort, the parties come into actual juxtaposition, and thirty stand fronting thirty, each with a gun in his hand. Straightway the word "Fire!" is given, and they blow the souls out of one another; and, instead of sixty brisk useful craftsmen, the world has sixty dead carcasses, which it must bury and anon shed tears for. Had these men any quarrel? Busy as the devil is, not the smallest. They lived far enough apart, were the entirest strangers nay, in so wide a universe, there was even, unconsciously by commerce, some mutual helpfulness between them. How then? Simpleton! their governors had fallen out; and, instead of shooting one another, had the cunning to make these poor blockheads shoot.-Carlyle's Sartor Resartus.

MELANCHOLY MOMENTS.

Ir is not pain, it is not grief,
That weigheth down my spirit now;
A holier feeling craves relief

For burden'd breast, for burning brow:
Nor pain nor grief might thus me bow,
Nor theirs the sorrow of the hour;
A deeper sadness this, I trow,
Bound on me by some sterner power.

Hast ever long'd to weep thy fill,

And felt that thou in vain must pine-
Felt fall on thee the leaden chill
Which freezes tears within their shrine?
Hast ever loved a full blue eye
Whose heaven mote ne'er upon thee shine?
Or seen a bosom heave the sigh

Thou knew'st was no response to thine?
Hast ever felt full many a thought
Of tenderness within thee swell,
By Nature to thy spirit taught,
Yet blighting that wherein they dwell?
Thy misery to love too well,

Since doomed still to love alone-
Affection sickening in her cell,

For lack of things to rest upon.
And hast thou known what 'tis to gaze,
In pensive musing, fancy free,
Back on the joyous sunny days

Of boyhood and of infancy?
Hast felt the rushing memories press,
And wish'd the troublers not to be?-
Mementos of thy loneliness !-

Then, stranger, thou canst feel for me.

And if a mother's eye did bless

Thine own, and fondly on thee smiled,
A mother's bosom once did press
Thine own-though only when a child:
Or if a sister fair and mild

Hath laid her soft cheek thine upon,
Then fathom thou the anguish wild

Born of the thought that both are gone.
Dearer than home to exile's thought,
Than to the hero battle's van,
Than science to the sage she taught,

Or chieftain to his Highland clan-
Dearer than to the deluged earth
The bow of hope that heaven did span,
Dearer than all the world is worth-
Is woman to the heart of man!
Prate not of friends: there is a smart
That mocks at friendship's nicest skill;
There is a void within the heart
That even friendship may not fill:
There is within a mystic will,

Aye calling at the spirit's shrine-
A something that demandeth still

A breast to blend and beat with thine :A breast will be thine own for aye, Will bleed at ought that brings thee pain, Will languish when thou art away, And leap when it on thine hath lain. Oh give me such, or else give back, Ye years, the blessedness ye've ta'en!The springiness my spirits lack— And let me be a boy again!

GUANO MANURE.

D.

The sterile soils of the South American coast are urate of ammonia and other ammoniacal salts, by the use of which a luxuriant vegetation and the richest crops are obtained. Guano has lately been imported in considerable quantities into Liverpool and several other English ports, and is now experimentally employed as a manure by English agriculturists. A consideration of its compo

manured with a substance called guano, consisting of

sition and mode of action cannot therefore fail to be ac

ceptable. Much speculation has arisen as to the true origin of guano, but the most certain proof is now afforded that it has been produced by the accumulation of the excrements of the innumerable sea-fowl which inhabit the islands upon which it is found. Meyen, the latest writer upon this subject, completely coincides with this opinion, cloud the sun when they rise from their resting-place in for he says "their number is Legion; they completely the morning, in flocks of miles in length." Yet, notwithThe order was congratulated by all Europe on this standing their great number, thousands of years must occasion. For the next century, it continued to have elapsed before the excrements could have accumumaintain maritime combats of lesser note, chiefly in lated to such a thickness as they possess at present. contest with the African pirates. But its utility and Guano has been used by the Peruvians as a manure since its wealth gradually departed. Each of the powers the twelfth century; and Rivero states that the annual of Europe became owners of great fleets, which reconsumption of guano, for the purposes of agriculture, duced the galleys of St John to total insignificance; amounts to 40,000 fanegas (7600 quarters). The increase and there being no longer occasion for their services, of crops obtained by the use of guano is very remarkable. the possessions of the knights slipt by degrees from is increased forty-five times by means of it, and that of According to the same authority, the crop of potatoes their grasp. Besides, islands could no longer be maize thirty-five times. The composition of guano points wrested even from Mahommedans, or expeditions out how admirably it is fitted for a manure; for not only made against them; treaties and alliances bound both does it contain ammoniacal salts in abundance, but also parties to peace. At length, in the time of the sixty-those inorganic constituents which are indispensable ninth grand-master, Bonaparte appeared before Va- for the development of plants.-Professor Liebig's New letta, the Maltese capital, and, after a feeble show of Work.

BENEFIT OF A FREE PRESS.

A free press is the parent of much good in a state. But even a licentious press is a far less evil than a press that is enslaved, because both sides may be heard in the former case, but not in the latter. A licentious press may be an evil, an enslaved press must be so; for an enslaved press may cause error to be more current than wisdom, and wrong more powerful than right; a licentious press cannot effect these things, for if it gives the poison, it gives also the antidote, which an enslaved press withholds. An enslaved press is doubly fatal---it not only takes away the true light, for in that case we might stand still, but it sets up a false one, that decoys us to our destruction.--- Lacon.

TULIPOMANIA IN HOLLAND.

When the Tulipomania infected Holland, and single roots were sold for many hundred pounds, we are told--"People who had been absent from Holland, and whose chance it was to return when this folly was at its maximum, were sometimes led into awkward dilemmas by their ignorance. There is an amusing instance of the kind related in Blainville's Travels. A wealthy merchant, who prided himself not a little on his rare tulips, received upon one occasion a very valuable consignment of merchandise from the Levant. Intelligence of its arrival was brought him by a sailor, who presented himself for that purpose at the counting-house, among bales of goods of every description. The merchant, to reward him for his news, munificently made him a present of a fine red-herring for his breakfast. The sailor had, it appears, a great partiality for onions; and seeing a bulb, very like an onion, lying upon the counter of this liberal trader, and thinking it no doubt very much out of its place among silks and velvets, he slily seized an opportunity, and slipped it into his pocket as a relish for his herring. He got clear off with his prize, and proceeded to the quay to eat his breakfast. Hardly was his back turned, when the merchant missed his valuable Semper Augustus, worth 3000 florins, or about L.280 sterling. The whole establishment was instantly in an uproar; search was every where made for the precious root, but it was not to be found. Great was the merchant's distress of mind. The search was reAt last some one newed, but again without success. thought of the sailor. The unhappy merchant sprang into the street at the bare suggestion. His alarmed household followed him. The sailor, simple soul! had not thought of concealment. He was found quietly sitting on a coil of ropes, masticating the last morsel of his onion. Little did he dream that he had been eating a breakfast whose cost might have regaled a whole ship's crew for a twelvemonth; or, as the plundered merchant himself expressed it, might have sumptuously feasted the Prince of Orange and the whole court of the stadtholder.' An

thony caused pearls to be dissolved in wine to drink the health of Cleopatra; Sir Richard Whittington was as foolishly magnificent in an entertainment to King Henry V.; and Sir Thomas Gresham drank a diamond, dissolved in wine, to the health of Queen Elizabeth, when she opened the Royal Exchange; but the breakfast of this roguish Dutchman was as splendid as either. He had the advantage, too, over his wasteful predecessors; their gems did not improve the taste or the wholesomeness of their wine, while his tulip was quite delicious with his redherring."--- Mackay's History of Popular Delusions.

ULTIMATE SUCCESS OF GOOD SCHEMES.

Many schemes ridiculed as Utopian, decried as visionary, and declaimed against as impracticable, will be realised the moment the march of sound knowledge has effected this for our species-that of making men wise enough to see their true interests, and disinterested enough to pursue them.--- Lacon.

W. S. ORR, Paternoster Row
LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by

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DINBURGA

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

NUMBER 525.

THE TWO MISS SMITHS.

A TRUE STORY.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1842.

In a certain town in the west of England, which shall be nameless, there dwelt two maiden ladies of the name of Smith; each possessing a small independence, each residing, with a single maid-servant, in a small house, the drawing-room floor of which was let, whenever lodgers could be found; each hovering somewhere about the age of fifty, and each hating the other with a restless and implacable enmity. The origin of this aversion was the similarity of their names; each was Miss C. Smith, the one being called Cecilia, the other Charlotte-a circumstance which gave rise to such innumerable mistakes and misunderstandings, as were sufficient to maintain these ladies in a constant state of irritability and warfare. Letters, messages, invitations, parcels, bills, were daily mis-sent, and opened by the wrong person, thus exposing the private affairs of one to the other; and as their aversion had long ago extinguished every thing like delicacy on either side, any information so acquired was used without scruple to their mutual annoyance. Presents, too, of fruit, vegetables, or other delicacies from the neighbouring gentry, not unfrequently found their way to the wrong house; and if unaccompanied by a letter, which took away all excuse for mistake, they were appropriated without remorse, even when the appropriating party felt confident in her heart that the article was not intended for her; and this not from greediness or rapacity, but from the absolute delight they took in vexing each other. It must be admitted, also, that this well-known enmity was occasionally played upon by the frolicloving part of the community, both high and low; so that over and above the genuine mistakes, which were of themselves quite enough to keep the poor ladies in hot water, every now and then some little hoax was got up and practised upon them, such as fictitious love-letters, anonymous communications, and so forth. It might have been imagined, as they were not an swerable for their names, and as they were mutual sufferers by the similarity, one having as much right to complain of this freak of fortune as the other, that they might have entered into a compact of forbearance, which would have been equally advantageous to either party; but their naturally acrimonious dispositions prevented this, and each continued as angry with the other as she could have been if she had had a sole and indefeasible right to the appellation of C. Smith, and her rival had usurped it in a pure spirit of annoyance and opposition. To be quite just, however, we must observe that Miss Cecilia was much the worse of the two; by judicious management Miss Charlotte might have been tamed, but the malice of Miss Cecilia was altogether inexorable.

By the passing of the Reform Bill, the little town wherein dwelt these belligerent powers received a very considerable accession of importance; it was elevated into a borough, and had a whole live member to itself, which, with infinite pride and gratification, it sent to parliament, after having extracted from him all manner of pledges, and loaded him with all manner of instructions as to how he should conduct himself under every conceivable circumstance; not to mention a variety of bills for the improvement of the roads and markets, the erection of a town-hall, and the reform of the systems of watching, paving, lighting, &c., the important and consequential little town of B-.

A short time previous to the first election-an event which was anticipated by the inhabitants with the most vivid interest one of the candidates, a country

gentleman who resided some twenty miles off, took a lodging in the town, and came there with his wife and family, in order, by a little courtesy and a few entertainments, to win the hearts of the electors and their friends; and his first move was to send out invitations for a tea and card party, which, in due time, when the preparations were completed, was to be followed by a ball. There was but one milliner and dressmaker of any consideration in the town of B-, and it may be imagined that on so splendid an occasion her services were in great request--so much so, that in the matter of head-dresses, she not only found that it would be impossible, in so short a period, to fulfil the commands of her customers, but also that she had neither the material nor the skill to give them satisfaction. It was, therefore, settled that she should send off an order to a house in Exeter, which was the county town, for a cargo of caps, togues, turbans, &c., fit for all ages and faces-"such as were not disposed of to be returned ;" and the ladies consented to wait, with the best patience they could, for this interesting consignment, which was to arrive without fail on the Wednesday, Thursday being the day fixed for the party. But the last coach arrived on Wednesday night without the expected boxes; however, the coachman brought a message for Miss Gibbs, the milliner, assuring her that they would be there the next morning without fail.

Accordingly, when the first Exeter coach rattled through the little street of B, which was about half-past eleven, every head that was interested in the freight was to be seen looking anxiously out for the deal boxes; and, sure enough, there they were-three of them-large enough to contain caps for the whole town. Then there was a rush up stairs for their bonnets and shawls, and in a few minutes troops of ladies, young and old, were seen hurrying towards the market-place, where dwelt Miss Gibbs-the young in pursuit of artificial flowers, gold bands, and such-like adornments-the elderly in search of a more mature order of decoration. Amongst the candidates for finery, nobody was more eager than the two Miss Smiths; and they had reason to be so, not only because they had neither of them any thing at all fit to be worn at Mrs Hanaway's party, which was in a style much above the entertainments they were usually invited to, but also because they both invariably wore turbans, and each was afraid that the other might carry off the identical turban that might be most desirable for herself. Urged by this feeling, so alert were they, that they were each standing at their several windows when the coach passed, with their bonnets and cloaks actually on-ready to start for the plate!-determined to reach Miss Gibbs's in time to witness the opening of the boxes. But "who shall control his fate?" Just as Miss Cecilia was stepping off her threshold, she was accosted by a very gentlemanly-looking person, who, taking off his hat, with an air really irresistible, begged to know if he had "the honour of seeing Miss Smith"-a question which was, of course, answered in the affirmative.

"I was not quite sure," said he, "whether I was right, for I had forgotten the number; but I thought it was sixty," and he looked at the figures on the door.

"This is sixty, sir," said Miss Cecilia; adding to herself, "I wonder if it was sixteen he was sent to," for at number sixteen lived Miss Charlotte.

"I was informed, madam," pursued the gentleman, "that I could be accommodated with apartments here-that you had a first floor to let."

"That is quite true, sir," replied Miss Cecilia, delighted to let her rooms, which had been some time

PRICE 1d.

vacant, and doubly gratified when the stranger added, "I come from Bath, and was recommended by a friend of yours, indeed probably a relation, as she bears the same name, Miss Joanna Smith."

"I know Miss Joanna very well, sir," replied Miss Cecilia; "pray, walk up stairs, and I'll show you the apartments directly. (For," thought she," I must not let him go out of the house till he has taken them, for fear he should find out his mistake.) Very nice rooms, sir, you see-every thing clean and comfortable-a pretty view of the canal in front-just between the baker's and the shoemaker's; you'll get a peep, sir, if you step to this window. Then it's uncommonly lively; the Exeter and Plymouth coaches, up and down, rattling through all day long, and indeed all night too, for the matter of that. A beautiful little bed-room, back, too, sir-Yes, as you observe, it certainly does look over a brick kiln; but there's no dust-not the least in the world-for I never allow the windows to be opened: altogether, there can't be a pleasanter situation than it is."

The stranger, it must be owned, seemed less sensible of all these advantages than he ought to have been ; however, he engaged the apartments: it was but for a short time, as he had come there about some business connected with the election; and as Miss Joanna had so particularly recommended him to the lodging, he did not like to disoblige her. So the bargain was struck: the maid received orders to provision the garrison with bread, butter, tea, sugar, &c., &c., whilst the gentleman returned to the inn to dispatch Boots with his portmanteau and carpet-bag.

"You were only just in time, sir," observed Miss Cecilia, as they descended the stairs, "for I expected a gentleman to call at twelve o'clock to-day, who I am sure would have taken the lodgings."

"I should be sorry to stand in his way," responded the stranger, who would not have been at all sorry for an opportunity of backing out of the bargain. "Perhaps you had better let him have them-I can easily get accommodated elsewhere."

"Oh dear, no, sir; dear me! I wouldn't do such a thing for the world!" exclaimed Miss Cecilia, who had only thrown out this little inuendo by way of binding her lodger to his bargain, lest, on discovering his mistake, he should think himself at liberty to annul the agreement. For well she knew that it was a mistake: Miss Joanna of Bath was Miss Charlotte's first cousin, and, hating Miss Cecilia, as she was in duty bound to do, would rather have sent her a dose of arsenic than a lodger, any day. She had used every precaution to avoid the accident that had happened, by writing on a card, "Miss Charlotte Smith, No. 16, High Street, B, opposite the linendraper's shop;" but the thoughtless traveller, never dreaming of the danger in which he stood, lost the card, and, trusting to his memory, fell into the snare.

Miss Cecilia had been so engrossed by her anxiety to hook this fish before her rival could have a chance of throwing out a bait for him, that, for a time, she actually forgot Miss Gibbs and the turban; but now that her point was gained, and sho felt sure of her man, her former care revived with all its force, and she hurried along the street towards the market-place, in a fever of apprehension lest she should be too late. The matter certainly looked ill; for, as she arrived breathless at the door, she saw groups of self-satisfied faces issuing from it, and, amongst the rest, the obnoxious Miss Charlotte's physiognomy appeared, looking more pleased than any body.

"Odious creature!" thought Miss Cecilia; "as if she supposed that any turban in the world could make her look tolerable!" But Miss Charlotte did suppose

it; and, moreover, she had just secured the very identical turban that, of all the turbans that ever were made, was most likely to accomplish this desideratum-at least so she opined.

Poor Miss Cecilia! Up stairs she rushed, bouncing into Miss Gibbs's little room, now strewed with finery. "Well, Miss Gibbs, I hope you have something that will suit me?"

"Dear me, mem," responded Miss Gibbs, "what a pity you did not come a little sooner. The only two turbans we had are just gone-Mrs Gosling took one, and Miss Charlotte Smith the other-two of the beautifullest-here they are, indeed-you shall see them;" and she opened the boxes in which they were deposited, and presented them to the grieved eyes of Miss Cecilia.

She stood aghast! The turbans were very respectable turbans indeed; but, to her disappointed and

eager desires, they appeared worthy of Mahomet the prophet, or the Grand Sultana, or any other body, mortal or immortal, that has ever been reputed to wear turbans. And this consummation of perfection she had lost!-lost just by a neck !-missed it by an accident, that, however gratifying she had thought it at the time, she now felt was but an inadequate compensation for her present disappointment. But there was no remedy. Miss Gibbs had nothing fit to make a turban of; besides, Miss Cecilia would have scorned to appear in any turban that Miss Gibbs could have compiled, when her rival was to be adorned with a construction of such superhuman excellence. No! the only consolation she had was to scold Miss Gibbs for not having kept the turbans till she had seen them, and for not having sent for a greater number of turbans. To which objurgations Miss Gibbs could only answer, "That she had been extremely sorry, indeed, when she saw the ladies were bent upon having the turbans, as she had ordered two entirely with a view to Miss Cecilia's accommodation; and, moreover, that she was never more surprised in her life than when Mrs Gosling desired one of them might be sent to her, because Mrs Gosling never wore turbans; and if Miss Gibbs had only foreseen that she would have pounced upon it in that way, she, Miss Gibbs, would have taken care she should never have seen it at all," &c., &c., &c.-all of which the reader may believe, if he or she choose. As for Miss Cecilia, she was implacable, and she flounced out of the house, and through the streets, to her own door, in a temper of mind that rendered it fortunate, as far as the peace of the town of B was concerned, that no accident brought her in contact with Miss Charlotte on the way.

of B, was half-past seven, when the knell of the
clock was followed by a single knock at the door, and
the next moment her maid walked into the room with
-what do you think?-the identical crimson and gold
turban in her hand!

"What a beauty!" cried Susan, turning it round,
that she might get a complete view of it in all its
phases.

"Was there any message, Sue?" inquired Miss Cecilia, gasping with agitation, for her heart was in her throat.

"No, ma'am," answered Sue; "Miss Gibbs's girl
just left it; she said it should have come earlier, but
she had so many places to go to."

"And she's gone, is she, Susan?"
"Yes, ma'am, she went directly-she said she hadn't
got half through yet."

"Very well, Susan, you may go; and remember,
I'm not at home if any body calls; and if any message
comes here from Miss Gibbs, you'll say I'm gone out,
and you don't expect me home till very late."
"Very well, ma'am."

With only some understrappings on her cranium, and altogether unconscious of her calamity, smiling and bowing, Miss Cecilia advanced towards her host and thinking, certainly, that her taste in a head-dress was hostess, who received her in the most gracious manner, peculiar, and that she was about the most extraordinary figure they had ever beheld, but supposing that such was the fashion she chose to adopt the less astonished or inclined to suspect the truth, from having heard a good deal of the eccentricities of the two spinsters of B. But to the rest of the company, the appearance she made was inexplicable; they had been accustomed to see her ill dressed, and oddly dressed, but such a flight as this they were not prepared for. Some whispered that she had gone mad; others suspected that it must be accident-that somehow or other she had forgotten to put on her head-dress; but even if it were so, the joke was an excellent one, and nobody cared enough for her to sacrifice their amusement by setting her right. So Miss Cecilia, blessed in her delusion, triumphant and happy, took her place at the whist table, anxiously selecting a position which gave her a full view of the door, in order that she might have the indescribable satisfaction of seeing the expression of Miss Charlotte's countenance when she entered the room-that is, if she came; the probability was, that mortification would keep her away.

"And, I say, Susan, if they send here to make any inquiries about that turban, you'll say you know no-spirit to be beaten out of the field in that manner. thing about it, and send them away." "Very well, ma'am," said Susan, and down she dived to the regions below.

Instead of four o'clock, how ardently did Miss Cecilia wish it were seven; for the danger of the next three hours was imminent. Well she understood how the turban had got there-it was a mistake of the girl-but the chance was great that, before seven o'clock arrived, Miss Charlotte would take fright at not receiving her head-dress, and would send to Miss Gibbs to demand it, when the whole thing would be found out. However, no message came: at five o'clock, when the milk-boy rang, Miss Cecilia thought she should have fainted; but that was the only alarm. At six she began to dress, and at seven she stood before her glass in full array, with the turban on her head. She thought she had never looked so well; indeed, she was sure she had not. The magnitude of the thing gave her an air, and indeed a feeling of dignity and importance that she had never been sensible of before. The gold lace looked brilliant even by the light of her single tallow candle; what would it do in a well-illuminated drawing-room! then the colour was strikingly becoming, and suited her hair exactly-Miss Cecilia, we must here observe, was quite grey; but she wore a frontlet of dark curls, and a little black silk skull-cap, fitted close to her head, which kept all neat and tight under the turban.

As soon as she got into her parlour, she threw off her bonnet and shawl, and plunging into her arinShe had not far to go; nevertheless, she thought chair, she tried to compose her mind sufficiently to it would be as well to set off at once, for fear of actake a calm view of the dilemma, and determine oncidents, even though she lingered on the way to fill up what line of conduct to pursue-whether to send an the time, for every moment the danger augmented; excuse to Mrs Hanaway, or whether to go to the party so she called to Susan to bring her cloak, and her in one of her old head-dresses. Either alternative was calash, and her overalls, and being well packed up by insupportable. To lose the party-the game at loò, the the admiring Sue, who declared the turban was "withdistinction of being seen in such good society-it was out exception the beautifullest thing she ever saw," too provoking; besides, very likely people would suppose she started; determined, however, not to take the she had not been invited; Miss Charlotte, she had no direct way, but to make a little circuit by a back doubt, would try to make them believe so. But then, street, lest, by ill luck, she should fall foul of the on the other hand, to wear one of her old turbans was enemy. so mortifying-they were so very shabby, so unfashionable-on an occasion, too, when every body would be so well-dressed! Oh, it was aggravating-vexatious, in the extreme! She passed the day in reflectionchewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancies; recalling to herself how well she looked in the turban-for she had tried it on; figuring what would have been Miss Charlotte's mortification if she had been the disappointed person-how triumphantly she, Miss Cecilia, would have marched into the room with the turban on her head-how crest-fallen the other would have looked; and then she varied her occupation by resuscitating all her old turbans, buried in antique bandboxes deep in dust, and trying whether it were possible, out of their united materials, to concoct one of the present fashionable shape and dimensions. But the thing was impracticable: the new turban was composed of crimson satin and gold lace, hers of pieces of muslin and gauze.

When the mind is very much engrossed, whether the subject of contemplation be pleasant or unpleasant, time flies with inconceivable rapidity; and Miss Cecilia was roused from her meditations by hearing the clock in the passage strike four, warning her that it was necessary to come to some decision, as the hour fixed for the party, according to the primitive customs

But no such thing-Miss Charlotte had too much She had waited with patience for her turban, because Miss Gibbs had told her, that, having many things to send out, it might be late before she got it; but when half-past six arrived, she became impatient, and dispatched her maid to fetch it. The maid returned, with "Miss Gibbs's respects, and the girl was still out with the things; she would be sure to call at Miss Charlotte's before she came back." At half-past seven there was another message, to say that the turban had not arrived; by this time the girl had done her errands, and Miss Gibbs, on questioning her, discovered the truth. But it was too late-the mischief was irreparable-Susan averring, with truth, that her mistress had gone to Mrs Hanaway's party some time, with the turban on her head.

feelings-that would be a vain endeavour. Rage took We will not attempt to paint Miss Charlotte's possession of her soul; her attire was already complete, all but the head-dress, for which she was waiting. She selected the best turban she had, threw on her cloak and calash, and in a condition of mind bordering upon frenzy, she rushed forth, determined, be the consequences what they might, to claim her turban, and expose Miss Cecilia's dishonourable conduct before the whole company.

By the time she arrived at Mrs Hanaway's door, owing to the delays that had intervened, it was nearly half-past eight; the company had all arrived; and whilst the butler and footmen were carrying up the refreshments, one of the female servants of the establishment had come into the hall, and was endeavouring to introduce some sort of order and classification amongst the mass of external coverings that had been hastily thrown off by the ladies; so, when Miss Charlotte knocked, she opened the door and let her in, and proceeded to relieve her of her wraps...

"I suppose I'm very late," said Miss Charlotte, theproman drew off her boots, for she was out of breath dropping into a chair to seize a moment's rest, whilst with haste, and heated with fury.

"I believe every body's come, ma'am," said the woman.

"I should have been here some time since," proceeded Miss Charlotte, "but the most shameful trick has been played me about my-my-Why-I declare I really believe" and she bent forward, and picked up the turban-the identical turban, which, disturbed by the maid-servant's manoeuvres, was lying upon the floor, still attached to the calash by Sukey's unlucky pin.

Was there ever such a triumph? Quick as lightning, the old turban was off and the new one on, the maid with bursting sides assisting in the operation; and then, with a light step and a proud heart, up walked Miss Charlotte, and was ushered into the draw

"Susan," said she, pausing as she was stepping off
the threshold, "if any body calls, you'll say I have
been gone to Mrs Hanaway's some time; and, Susan,
just put a pin in this calash to keep it back, it falls
over my eyes so that I can't see;" and Susan pinned
a fold in the calash, and away went the triumphanting-room.
Miss Cecilia. She did not wish to be guilty of the
vulgarity of arriving first at the party; so she lin-
gered about till it wanted a quarter to eight, and
then she knocked at Mrs Hanaway's door, which a
smart footman immediately opened, and, with the
alertness for which many of his order are remarkable,
proceeded to disengage the lady from her external
coverings-the cloak, the overalls, the calash; and then,
without giving her time to breathe, he rushed up the
stairs, calling out, "Miss Cecilia Smith;" whilst the
butler, who stood at the drawing-room door, threw it
open, reiterating, "Miss Cecilia Smith," and in she
went. But, oh! reader, little do you think, and
little did she think, where the turban was that she
shadow of which she walked into the room with so
imagined to be upon her head, and under the supposed
much dignity and complacence. It was below in
the hall, lying on the floor, fast in the calash, to which
Susan, ill-starred wench! had pinned it; and the
footman, in his cruel haste, had dragged them both off
together.

As the door opened, the eyes of the rivals met. Miss Cecilia's feelings were those of disappointment and surprise. "Then she has got a turban too! How could she have got it?" and she was vexed that her triumph was not so complete as she had expected. But Miss Charlotte was in ecstacies. It may be supposed she was not slow to tell the story; it soon flew round the room, and the whole party were thrown into convulsions of laughter. Miss Cecilia, alone, was not in the secret; and as she was successful at cards, and therefore in good humour, she added to their mirth, by saying that she was glad to see every body so merry, and by assuring Mrs Hanaway, when she took her leave, that it was the gayest party she had ever seen in B- "I am really ashamed," said Mrs Hanaway, "at allowing the poor woman to be the jest of my company; but I was afraid to tell her the cause of our laughter, from the apprehension of what might have followed." "ALd it must be admitted," said her

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husband, "that she well deserves the mortification
that awaits her when she discovers the truth."
was herself again. She parted with her house, and
Poor Miss Cecilia did discover the truth, and never
went to live with a relation at Bristol; but her spirit
was broken; and, after going through all the stages of

a discontented old age-ill temper, passion, peevishness, and fatuity-she closed her existence, as usual with persons of her class, unloved and unlamented.

A CHAPTER ON THE SOPHISMS.

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Errors of this description may proceed, in the first instance, from confounding allied meanings of the same term. Sometimes a word is used both in its primary and in a transitive sense. An instance in point occurs in Mr Burke's Essay on Taste, prefixed to his celebrated disquisition on the Sublime and Beautiful. LOGIC, if we adopt the latest and most authoritative" It may perhaps appear," he observes, "that there is definition, is to be viewed "as the science, and also as no material distinction between the wit and the judgment, the art, of reasoning." * In either capacity it plainly as they both seem to result from different operations has to do, not only with the exposition of valid modes of the same faculty of comparing. But in reality, whether they are or are not dependent on the same of argument, but with the detection of such as are power of the mind, they differ so very materially in false and fallacious. In systems of logic, therefore, a many respects, that a perfect union of wit and judgplace is properly devoted to the statement and discus- ment is one of the rarest things in the world." The sion of the doctrine of Sophisms. words wit and judgment have each, in the above passage, two distinct significations-the powers thus denominated respectively, and the products of both in peculiarly lively exercise. The inference, of course, does not hold, and the objection it is intended to meet remains unanswered.

This and the related term sophist, both derived from the Greek adjective for wise, are not necessarily significant of wrong reasoning and a dishonest reasoner. The latter, indeed, was at first a name of honour, corresponding to our own philosopher or sage, as is evinced Sometimes a metaphorical sense is slipped in, in lieu by its application to such men as Solon, the famous of the literal. We have heard that a popular orator Athenian legislator. The title, however, was also thus managed to turn to his own account the misfortune of a rival, absent, it seems, from delicate health. conceded to those less calculated to maintain its dig-"The gentleman has said he cannot venture himself nity. Addicting themselves to subtle disputations on in such an atmosphere, but this is the atmosphere in tedious trifles; playing with arguments as they would which I delight to breathe." With an excited crowd, with chessmen; making victory rather than truth this flimsy artifice, we believe, succeeded in procuring the object of their efforts; labouring less to clear their for a stout pair of lungs the applause due to distinguished patriotism. own intellectual vision than to fling dust in the eyes of their opponents-the professors of wisdom soon involved their distinctive appellation in their own disrepute and disgrace. By a natural coincidence, the kindred word sophisma, strictly and etymologically denoting a wise saying, came to mean a verbal imposture, a quirk, or fallacy. It is of importance in studying logic to keep clearly in view the distinction between this term and paralogism. The latter word is appropriated to palpable violations of the first principles of reasoning; the former denotes violations committed under the appearance of conformity. A paralogism is an enemy at once detected and disarmed; a sophism is an assassin wearing the mask of friendship.

The classification of the sophisms is no easy task; and, generally speaking, it has been but ill performed. The logicians, in this department, have given a very unworkmanlike specimen of their own lauded art. Nothing can be more indistinct and perplexing, as well as barbarous, than the nomenclature they have conferred on the various modes of fallacious reasoning. The utmost confusion on this head prevails in the common systems of logic: this writer cites as an example of one error what that refers to another; so that a single sophism is often bandied about, like a pauper of ambiguous parentage, through a goodly moiety of the thirteen parishes of Aristotle. A simpler division of the territory and population is, we think, not quite impracticable; the task has been facilitated, if not completely achieved, by the admirable work of Dr Whately. In the distribution we have fixed on, at least in its minor details, practical utility has sometimes been consulted rather than scientific precision.

Errors in reasoning may all be resolved into two grand orders. The fault, in the first instance, may reside in the expressed argument, or syllogism, in which the conclusion does not follow from the premises it is apparently involved in; or, secondly, it may lurk in the concealed process of thought, dexterously suggested by the sophist, by means of which false premises are regarded as proved, and a false though logically legitimate conclusion is of course necessitated; or in which a conclusion, likewise logically fair, and probably true as matter of fact, but irrelevant or only partially relevant to the point at issue, is admitted as applicable and decisive. In the one class the link is wanting which should bind the inference to the previous positions; in the other, that is absent, which should connect either with the real subject of dispute. A sophism, then, which is inseparable from the form of the expression, may perhaps with propriety be styled syllogistic; while one attaching to the subject-matter may fall to be treated as extra-syllogistic. It is obviously as respects the latter sort that the human mind is most open to deception; and it must at the same time be allowed that logic is here, where her aid is most essential, able to lend it but in scanty measure. The candid will, however, remember that even the meanest modicum of such service is of value, and will not quarrel with an art for failure where absolute success is plainly unattainable.

First, then, of syllogistic fallacies; which, indeed, by excessive generalisation, might be comprised under the other class, since they are resolvable into the impression that the same or similar terms are always representative of the same or similar ideas. It is much

more convenient, however, to consider them separately.

tion

all traceable to two sources, the first of which is the assumption of doubtful premises. This error appears in a great variety of forms.

Accidental coincidence is often assumed as sufficient to establish efficient connexion. Two events happen nearly at the same time; therefore one is supposed the cause, and the other the effect. Of this sort of false reasoning, we remember a notable instance in Prideaux. Cambyses was mortally wounded by his sword piercing his body in the same part in which he had stabbed the sacred bull of the Egyptians. In narrating this incident, the dean expresses his concurrence in their superstitious inference, observing that the mode of the king's death was probably designed to mark the divine displeasure against his act of violence, as an insult offered to the cause of religion in general. On the same error are based the fictions of astrology. The fate of individuals and of nations has been thought to be bound up in the movements and conjunctions of the stars; and so simple an event as the appearance of a comet has ere now frightened Europe into penitence. Virgil, in his first Georgic, bids the farmer confide in those indications of the weather afforded by the aspect of the sun, since that luminary's obscuration gave faithful warning of the impending doom of Cæsar. On the same principle, the decline of the Roman power was early ascribed to the spread of Christianity. All our popular superstitions are to be similarly explained; those, for instance, which interpret as infallible preludes of death or discord, the chirping of an insect, the howling of a dog, or the spilling of a little salt.

Occasionally, the extension of a term is changed. Thus Hume, in his Essay on Miracles, argues as if what is granted of ordinary were true of universal Closely allied to the preceding fallacy is that which under the observation of most persons, it is concluded this stumbling-block we find the father of logic himexperience. Because events of this order have not come consists in the assumption of a hypothetical cause. At that they could never have come under the observa- self tripping. "All the heavenly bodies," says Aristion of any. A like ambiguity has sometimes arisen totle, in his Physics, "must move in circles, because a from the vague application of authority. Referring to circle is the most perfect of all figures." The reason the writer last named, in his capacity of historian, we here assigned for a position, now known to be at varimay think fit to pronounce him an excellent autho- ance with existing phenomena, is neither appreciable rity; but unless the term be expressly guarded, we in itself nor applicable to the question. Des Cartes's may be represented as intimating our approval of his hypothesis of animal spirits, and Hartley's theory of ethical and metaphysical speculations. By prophet we vibrations, both framed to explain the transmission of usually understand a person supernaturally commis-sensible impressions from the extremity of the nerves sioned to foretell events; in the works of Mr Carlyle, to the brain, are both referable to the same source of practical power. Mystery, formerly meaning simply cause has been assigned, the real cause has been dishe is simply a man of commanding genius and vast error-the supposition, namely, that when a possible

covered.

a thing unknown, now denotes invariably a thing that
cannot be known. The notion popularly attached to What is true with limitations, is frequently assumed to
wealth differs widely from the use of the term by be true absolutely. Thus-"Deleterious drugs are
writers on political economy; and much practical always to be rejected; opium is a deleterious drug;
mischief has resulted from the belief that a country is therefore opium is always to be rejected." It is
these cases and the like, serious mistakes have been persons in health, is not applicable, specially, to cases
prosperous just in proportion as it amasses specie. In plain, that a maxim which holds good, generally, of
generated, and risen to the rank of established and of disease. This sophism appears, perhaps, more fre-
unimpeachable principles, through sheer inattention quently in the interrogative than in the categorical
to the variations of terms. The more closely, indeed, form. The object of the disingenuous disputant, then,
the shades of meaning blend with each other, the is to extort from his adversary an unconditional answer
more twin-like the similarity that subsists betwixt to a question so put as to require it to be qualified.
them, the greater becomes the difficulty of detecting When the query is advanced in a bold, triumphant
the fraud. Beyond a certain point, indeed, of differ- tone, with its real complexity dexterously disguised,
ence, the most obtuse intellect will refuse to be im- a timid and inexperienced debater will be easily
posed on. It is absurd, therefore, in an enumeration silenced by this expedient. The question, for example,
"Is war detestable, or is it not?" cannot be answered
of fallacies, to assign a place to a glaring play upon
words. Though the pun may puzzle, it can never directly and unconditionally. If we choose the affir-
mislead. "He who is most hungry eats most: hemative, we concede the criminality of even defensive
who eats least is most hungry; therefore he who eats war; if we prefer the negative, we are dealt with as
least eats most." We immediately discover that eats the advocates of aggressive. We must explain and
in the first member of the syllogism is equivalent to qualify, if we would avoid either horn of the dilemina,
will eat, while in the second it stands for has eaten; at the risk, indeed, of being accused by our opponent
and the apparent contradiction is solved and laughed of a wish to shufile and prevaricate, and perplex the
discussion. To this head most cases of defective
parallel may conveniently be referred.

over.

A second class of errors in reasoning, belonging to the same general order, may arise from the oversight of certain differences betwixt related terms. It is often, for example, taken for granted that words springing from a common root only vary among themselves as parts of speech, whereas in fact the radical meaning may have become considerably modified. Schemer denotes an artful, truckling, unprincipled individual-qualities which it would be most unfair to ascribe to every man that chanced to be the author of a scheme. The two terms are related to each other, but a derout man is not therefore a devotee. In some instances, however, either to become available for the purposes of sophisthe derivative and primitive differ too plainly for try. A mind that would fail to detect the transition from art to artful, from pity to pitiful, and the like, must be under the influence of principles of association no less peculiar than those which led the Laird of Ellangowan, in Guy Mannering, to give justice embodiment in a justice of the peace.

To this head we would also refer the disingenuous use of pseudo-synonymes-that is, terms corresponding generally, but not alike expressive of the required shade of distinction. To murder, and to put to death, both indicate agency with a similar result; but the former phrase determines that agency to be criminal, while the latter affixes no such character to it. Many, under the impression that the terms are perfectly equivalent and interchangeable, might be induced to ascribe to sour substances the recognised properties of bitter. It is unnecessary to multiply examples.

Let us now review briefly the more frequent and more dangerous species of fallacies which we have here was described as attaching, not to the expressed ventured to denominate extra-syllogistic. The fault process of argument, but to the concomitant process

"Elements of Logic," by Archbishop Whately-introduc- of thought.

Sophisms, ranging under this general category, are

Again: We may assume as exhaustive of all the alternatives of a giren case what embraces only a portion of them. Thus, in one of Lucian's Dialogues of the Dead, Menippus chooses to take for granted that the misery of Tantalus only arises from fear that he may die of thirst; and proceeds, accordingly, in sarcastic vein, to prove the apprehension groundless. "You say you are punished with thirst; but why is that dreadful to you? For I see no region besides this Hades, nor any second death in another quarter." Thus, too, the celebrated sophistical puzzle respecting moin the place where it is, or in some place where it is tion. "Whatever body is in motion must move either not; neither of these alternatives is possible: therefore there is no such thing as motion." Here it is assumed, that there is no such third alternative as is conveyed by the prepositions from and to, the others involving manifestly a contradiction in terms.

Next may be mentioned the error of assuming that what is true of a whole, is true of a part. Critics, on this principle, have conceived themselves bound to vindicate, or puff into beauties, even the most flagrant faults of standard writers; and have seldom struck the medium between unqualified censure and extravagant praise. How often are meritorious individuals subjected to the odium, attaching, perhaps justly, to the majority of a class to which they chance to belong! How often are salutary institutions and customs neglected or decried, just because they have a common origin with others that are noxious and blameworthy! To reverse the illustration: How often are particular periods characterised as enlightthe aspect of affairs! ened and prosperous, simply from a partial survey of Take the era of Elizabeth. "There was, perhaps, a learned and vigorous monarch, and there were Cecils and Walsinghams, and Shakspeares and Spensers, and Sidneys and Raleighs, with

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