the remembrance of men who, though their actions are immortal, are themselves mortal; —who, however distinguished by their exploits, their rank, their power, their wealth, or their worldly honours, must yield to the certain and inevitable stroke of death. When, therefore, we contemplate the speaking tablets which adorn the walls of that great national cemetry of the illustrious dead, where "kings, heroes, poets, statesmen, patriots lie," and, like the mourning friend of Addison, retire from the noise and tumult of the world, Just men, by whom impartial laws were giv❜n ; And saints, who taught and led the way to heav'n." Another advantage of thus preserving the representations of men, who have raised themselves above the level of humanity, is, that they may in future ages be pointed out objects of praiseworthy emulation to all, who wish to pursue the same honourable paths to distinction.— Thus the statue of the hero will naturally inspire the beholder with the desire of glory-of the philosopher with a love of science-of the philanthropist with a love of benevolence-and of the patriot with a true love for his country. But it is not to such frail and perishable memorials that men of real eminence and renown will trust for immortality. It is their's, as the poet beautifully expresses it, "to grave their praises on the hearts of men ;"-to be enshrined in “A monument which worth alone can raise, Sure to survive, when Time shall 'whelm in dust The arch, the pillar, and the marble bust." W.. ON A LADY SINGING. FROM THE FRENCH. No! Ne'er did singing, by its flattering art, Tickell's Epistle to the Earl of Warwick, with the works of Addison. LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP—AN ALLEGORY. THERE is an island in the south encompassed by rocks which, how ever, presents an aspect the most seducing; these dangerous rocks are hidden by waves that lave its borders; and the stranger who approaches this island only perceives a brilliant amphitheatre, covered by trees which, apparently weary of their weight of fruit, bend their heads even to the earth, strewing around their golden honours. But this deceptive fruit, like that which grows in the country of the Lotophagi, produces the most dangerous inebriation, causing the hapless being who tastes of it to forget his country, his love of virtue, and his desire for glory. A sea, whose waves are never calmed, surrounds the island; it is here the Sirens have fixed their dwelling place, and here that, raising their melodious voices, they stifle in delicious harmony the dreadful groans of the irritated waters. Some of the unhappy beings betrayed here are wandering on the banks; they are wishing to leave the scene of their misfortunes. From their sorrowful silence, and the pallid hue of their countenances, they might well be mistaken for the shades of those who could not pass the river Cocytus. They have lost the illusions that so much charmed them; but, deprived of strength and courage, they basely suffer themselves to be enslaved by habits, and they lament in vain. A crowd of madmen cover the borders of the island, they disperse at hazard, yielding at once to the illusions of deceitful hope. In Paphos pure day has never shed its light, the burning sky is always cloudy, sometimes in an utter obscurity; and sometimes rapid flashes of lightning, bursting from the darkness, betray to the beholder's sight objects as unexpected as they are dreadful! But in every season flashes of fire, and meteors equally fleeting, and illusions that burn and shine without enlightning, are substituted for the benig nant influences of the sun and moon. The temple of Venus is situated at a very short distance from the sea. Not that celestial Venus worshipped by the Arabians; the divinity of Paphos is she who exposed herself unveiled on Mount Ida, and who banishing modesty, and separated from her attendant graces, dared no longer rely on the power of her charms, but, to bribe her judge, was obliged to promise him the most beautiful woman in the universe; it was thus she bought the prize of beauty, she did not fairly obtain it. Such is the goddess who reigns in this island. An immense number of worshippers come from every part of the world to bring their offerings to this temple. The altars of Love are strewed with flowers of the most delicious odour; the Sports and Smiles are ever employed in decorating them with garlands; the Muses themselves come here to celebrate the triumphs of love; their immortal lyres no longer. possess that supernatural power which excites the soul to deeds of glory and virtue; but their softened harmony beguiles the senses, touches the heart, but no more inspires that' divine enthusiasm which leads to honour and happiness. Yet this same temple, that presents such va ried and delightful attractions, is but too often the theatre of the most tragic horrors! How many unhappy victims of vengeance and jealousy have been immolated on those very altars that are strewed with roses! How often have the furies, armed with bloody poignards and funeral torches, put to flight the graces bathed in tears, and the loves in mourning! Yet in the midst of so many dangers, so many fatal illusions and deceiving pleasures, some few privileged beings have found happiness within the precincts of this dangerous empire. In the most solitary situation in the island, in the depths of a wood of willows and pine trees on the borders of a pure and gentle stream, in an antique edifice a goddess has fixed her sacred asylum, so little known to mortals, that it can scarcely be called a temple. It is here that Friendship has chosen her retreat, far from noisy courts and cities, far, far from the ambitious and the worshippers of fortune! Since Astræa's flight incense no longer smokes on the altars of the goddess, and her 1 worship is abandoned! However, she still occasionally receives homage, and she is satisfied, for the offerings are always pure and simple! Attended only by Fidelity this goddess, an enemy to all tumult and ostentation, delights in her solitude. She loves the calm of nature; over her neglected altars the moss and ivy, unchecked, have heen permitted to wander; time respects them, and they are imperishable, On all sides are inscribed the most touch ing inscriptions: "Near and at dis tance,"" In winter and in sume mer. "In life and in death," "In happiness and in adversity." Love sometimes visits this happy dwelling, but he first tears the bandage from his eyes, and throws away his homicidal bow and quiver; he retains only his wings, of which he cannot divest himself; and he still possesses all the sprightliness, the graces, and the innocence of childhood. Friendship receives him with out distrust; she either does not know him, or she will only see in him a beautiful child: the god, fatigued with the agitations of his court, with the revolutions of his empire, and even with his conquests, reposes deliciously on the bosom of Friendship; he becomes there at once more pure and more sensitive, and it is there he abjures all artifice and suspicion; he receives from Friendship all the generons virtues, and gives in exchange a charm she could not possess without him, that renders her at once more delicate and more lasting. When Love, by some happy caprice, wishes to ensure the happiness of two mortals, he takes Friendship with him the goddess precedes and guides him; they travel without pomp and without noise, for Love is no longer attended by his usual court, Folly, Jealousy, and the tumultuous Sports; he is accom-> panied by Prudence, by Delicacy, and by that indefinable Sympathy, always veiled and mysterious, that allures us by some unknown attraction, whose silken bonds are hidden like herself. It is she who, inspiring us more surely than reason can guide us, determines at once the choice of our hearts. If, during their happy union Love and Friendship meet with two virtuous and sensible beings,they unite them by chains as solid as they are pleasing, whose weight is never felt; far from leaving the marks of a miserable slavery, they are the hos nour and pride of those who wear them; these respectable ties are often taken for the revered symbols and attributes of Virtue. However, with Time Love flies' away, but not with a rapid and precipitate flight; he flies slowly, and with so much sweetness, with such delicate mánagement and attention, that his abs: sence is scarcely perceived or felt; and as he departs Friendship, becoming more attractive and more tender, gradually assumes his seductive aspect, his graces, and his language. She replaces him even to the tomb! ON PREMATURE INTERMENT. THERE are few persons ignorant that it is the unnatural custom of the French to inter twenty-four hours after the apparent decease. This practice, which is said to have had its origin in regard for the living by preventing the evil consequences of putrefaction, has excited horror in reflecting minds generally, and the deserved censure of many eminent medical men, who declare that the sanitary precaution has been carried to an extreme which outrages not only decency but humanity. That it should still exist is the best proof that can be offered of the obstinacy of the French government, or the ridiculous respect attached by the nation to a custom which sends many innocent victims prematurely to the grave, and serves to weaken the effect which scenes of death are calculated to produce upon the living. It is monstrous that the body of a parent or a child is to be dragged to the grave almost before it is cold, and with a people like the French such an indecent practice must tend to unhinge the sacred ties of nature. Several laudable attempts have been recently made by Englishmen in France to rouse the attention of the French ministers to the subject, and so produce a total change in the system. It is lamentable to state that, not only have their endeavours been unattended with success, but also that in too many instances the humane applicants have been treated with a coolness bordering upon in civility. Doctor Macnab, an Eng lish physician who has resided in France for many years past, made some very spirited exertions on this subject during the ministry of M. De Cazes, and it is only doing commom justice to the ex-minister to state, that his conduct was an exception to that which has been observed by his predecessors and successors. Unfortunately, however, for the interests of humanity, M. De Cazes quitted the ministry just as he was about to propose an alteration in the French law of burials. The memorial presented by Dr. Macnab to the French ministry is a most interesting production. We regret exceed ingly that it has never been published, because we think it could hardly fail to make the French ashamed of themselves, and thus lead to the abrogation of one of the most infamous laws which ever disgraced the character of a country. We have been favoured with a perusal of the Doctor's manuscript, from which we make a few extracts. "Individuals of whatever rank," says the Doctor, "from crowned heads to the labourers in the fields, are equally victims to this unnatural custom: the rich and the poor the child newly from the womb the youth in the flower of life, and the favourites of the creation, the fair sex, are alike exposed to the danger of perpetual death from premature interment." "In every age and country history has furnished numerous instances of individuals, who, in apparent death, have been preserved by accidental causes from premature interment. The short period of twenty-four hours, allowed by the existing laws of France for the purpose of ascertaining the real or apparent death of individuals, is far too short. There are many cases in which the signs of apparent death are witnessed, and which cannot be determined for days after they have been manifested. I could enumerate" diseases in which such signs are common. "It will be seen, that, except in putrid and a few other diseases which form a very inconsiderable part of those to which human nature is subject, when no essential organ of life is mortally attacked, the generality of beings, interred within the short period prescribed by the law, present no positive signs of real death-not even that first stage of putrefaction which is declared by the most able physicians and chemists to be free from infection, and therefore`unaccompanied with danger to the living. With respect to the second stage of putrefaction, which is dangerous, and which is the only sure proof of real death, the period of its appearance is uncertain; but it is easily deter mined, and no harm to the living can arise if the interment is per formed immediately after the first signs of positive putrefaction have been witnessed." Doctor Macnab then proceeds in illustration of his position to relate several instances of recovery from apparent death. Most of them are known to the bulk of English readers, but as it is important that facts of a peculiar and interesting nature should be repeatedly brought before the public, we shall probably be excused for quoting some of those which the Doctor selected for his memorial to the French government. "The danger to which the elegant Lady Russell was exposed is too well known, both in France and in England, to require details. She remained seven days and nights without any sign of life, and her interment was delayed only on account of the violent grief, which Lord Russel experienced at the idea of being separated from a beloved wife. On the eighth day, as the parish bells were tolling for church, Lady Rus sel suddenly raised her head, and to the amazement and indescribable joy of her husband, told him to get ready to accompany her to church. Her recovery was rapid and complete, and she lived many years afterwards to render her Lord the father of a family." "If," says the On Premature Interment. author, " Lady Russell had been The second instance is related by the celebrated Odier of Geneva, in the following words :-"I knew a girl, twenty-five years old, named Eliza Roy, who narrowly escaped being buried alive. She lived at a distance of two leagues from Geneva. For some years she had been subject to nervous attacks which frequently deprived her of every appearance of life; but, after the lapse of a few hours, she would recover and resume her occupations as if nothing had happened. On one occasion, how ever, the suspension of her faculties was so protracted, that her friends called in a medical man of the neigh bourhood, who pronounced her dead. She was then sewn up in a close shroud, according to the barbarous custom of the country, and laid upon the bedstead. Amongst those who called to condole with the parents was a particular friend of the supposed deceased, of her own age. The young woman, anxious to take a last look at her friend, unripped the shroud and imprinted a kiss upon her cheek. Whilst she was kissing her she fancied that she felt her breathe. She repeated her caresses; and being shortly assured of the fact of her friend not being dead, she applied her mouth to that of the girl, and in a short time the latter was restored to life, and able to dress herself." " Dr. Crichton, physician to the Grand Duke Nicholas, brother of the Emperor of Russia, relates a fact from his own experience which powerfully supports the arguments used by Dr. Macnab. "A girl," says Dr. Crichton, "in the young service of the Princess of. who had for some time kept her bed with a nervous affection, at length to all appearance was deprived of life. Her face had all the character of death-her body was perfectly cold, and every other sympton of death was manifested. She was removed into another room, and placed in a coffin. On the day fixed for her funeral, hymns, according to the custom of the country, were sung before the door; but at the very moment when they were going to [FEB. nail down the coffin, a perspiration was seen upon her skin, and in a few minutes it was succeeded by a feet. In a few moments she opened convulsive motion in the hands and her eyes, and uttered a piercing called in, and in the space of a few scream. The faculty were instantly days her health was completely reestablished. The account which she gave of her situation is extremely curious. She said that she appeared to dream that she was dead, but that she was sensible to every thing tinctly heard her friends bewailing that was passing round her, and disher death; she felt them envelope her in the shroud, and place her in the coffin. This sensation gave her extreme agony, and she attempted to speak but her soul was unable to act upon her body. She describes as if she was and was not in her her sensations as very contradictory, She attempted in vain to move her body at one and the same instant. The agony of her mind was at its arms, to open her eyes, or to speak. height when she heard the funeral hymn, and found that they were about to nail down the lid of the coffin. The horror of being buried alive gave a new impulse to her its corporeal organization, and promind, which resumed its power over duced the effects which excited the notice of those who were about to convey her to a premature grave." The last instance which the Doctor Celebres." It excited for a long time cites will be found in the "Causes the most lively interest, and was for months the theme of conversation in every circle in Paris. There are few, perhaps, in England who have not heard of it; but it is one of those interesting facts which will lady, an inhabitant of the Rue St. bear repeating. "A young Parisian Honoré, who had fixed her affections upon a gentleman of her own age, of her parents to bestow her hand was, however, forced by the cupidity upon another. She was plunged in duced a lethargic affection, and in a profound melancholy, which prothe end every appearance of death. She was buried alive. The object of her affections, her first lover, having heard of her funeral and recollecting that she had frequently experienced |