cuted by Westmacott, and was not erected until a considerable time after his death. It is not our intention, on this occasion, to present our readers with a life of this distinguished man; it has already been executed by many hands, and is too closely interwoven with the political history of the times in which he lived to admit of our comprehending, within such limits as ours, anything but a meagre and uninteresting detail. We have, therefore, thought it better to record one or two anecdotes and general notices of his cha racter. neglected affluence in his mental tem- His animation was unequal, and there were periods when a stranger might have pronounced him even taciturn. But those times were generally brief; a sudden influx of ideas would seem to fertilize his mind, and he then overbore every thing with the richness and variety of his conceptions. strikingly indicative of his high regard for Mr. Fox, and at the same time exceedingly characteristic. It was related by one of his pupils in the New Monthly Magazine. It is much to be lamented that we are so scantily furnished either with descriptions or specimens of the conversational talents of Mr. Fox. The following, how-to Grove Park, on an embassy to obtain the "He occasionally sent me," said the pupil, ever, will be read with interest, from the Courier newspaper; and, upon my return, pen of a recent historian of his times :- made me read to him the parliamentary debates, which were at that time full of interest. times took a malicious pleasure in giving the In the delivery of Mr. Pitt's speeches, I someutmost possible effect to the brilliant passages; upon which the doctor would exclaim, Why, you noodle, do you dwell with such energy upon Pitt's empty declamation? Don't you would say, That is powerful!--but Fox will see it is all sophistry ?' At other moments he answer it!' When I pronounced the words, 'Mr. Fox rose,' Parr would roar out, 'Stop!' and filling it afresh, he would add, "Now, and after shaking the ashes out of his pipe which it is almost necessarily associa- Gibbon declares that Fox never flagged; his speech he would often interrupt me, in a tone you dog, do your best!' In the course of the of triumphant exultation, with exclamations such as the following:- Capital !—answer that if you can, Master Pitt!' and, at the conclusion, That is the speech of the orator and adding, after a pause, a very able one, I the statesman ; Pitt is a mere rhetorician,' The distinguishing feature of Mr. Fox's intellectual character appears to us to have been imagination and sensibility. These were the traits which showed themselves most prominently both in his public and private life. In the former, their predominance, and the defects with Gibbon, one of the most fastidious of men, and disposed by neither party nor personal recollections to be enamoured of Fox, describes his conversation as admirable. They met at Lausanne, spent a day without other company, "and talked the whole day;" the test was sufficiently long under any circumstances, but animation and variety of topic were inex ted, may account for the compara- exhibited that animation for which he was so remarkable under the influence of the great moral principles on which his subject turned. The necessary consequence of this habit of thinking and speaking was, that his auditory sympathized with him, were carried passively along under the same impressions, and kept at a temperature corresponding with his own. In private life, the effect of these characteristics was equally evident. No man was more alive to the beauties of natural scenery, and the relish for them lasted in undiminished intensity to the day of his death. In perfect accordance with this unsophisticated taste was his delight in poetry, to which his partiality amounted to enthusiasm, and which perpetually afforded him a relaxation from his political cares and fatigues. His taste in this, as in all other respects, was remarkably pure, and his memory so exceedingly retentive and ready that he had the finest passages of all the best poets in several languages entirely at his command. But it was in his social character that these distinctions were most conspicuous. To them were principally owing the charm of his society, which those who were privileged with his friendship represent as irresistibly fascinating. The wit, the elegance, the spontaneity, and copiousness which distinguished his conversation may all be recognized as the dependent graces of his fancy-all betoken a geniality and by acclamation. On another occasion, Burke was contending, A high official personage, since dead, noto- 66 When at Paris, Fox was one day dining ducing an anecdote of Dr. Parr, which is "I please to intoxication." admit.' The what more generally the character of Mr. We will now proceed to notice someFox, and we cannot better do this than by making a selection from the numerous delineations of it by the hands of his most intimate and most distinguished friends, first we shall give was contained in the which appeared after his death. characters of Fox by Dr. Parr, under the name of Philopatris Varvicensis, and is confidently attributed by him to his illustrious friend, Sir James Mackintosh. It first appeared in a Bombay newspaper, during Sir James's recordership there. Mr. Fox united, in a most remarkable degree, the seemingly repugnant characters of the mildest of men, and the most vehement of orators. In private life he was gentle, modest, placable, kind, of simple manners, and so averse from parade and dogmatism as to be inactive in conversation. His superiority was not only unostentatious, but even somewhat parted, or in the attention which his generous never felt but in the instruction which he impreference usually directed to the more obscure members of the company. The simplicity of his manners was far from excluding that permore from the mildness of his nature than fect urbanity and amenity which flowed still from familiar intercourse with the most polished society of Europe. His conversation, when it was not repressed by modesty or indolence, was delightful. The pleasantry perhaps of no man of wit had so unlaboured an appearance. It seemed rather to escape from his mind than to intimate terms with all his contemporaries be produced by it. He had lived on the most distinguished by wit, politeness, or philosophy, or learning, or the talents of public life. In the course of thirty years, he had known almost every man in Europe whose intercourse In classical erudition, which, by the custom could strengthen, or enrich, or polish the mind. His own literature was various and elegant. of England, is more peculiarly called learning, he was inferior to few professed scholars. Like all men of genius, he delighted to take refuge in poetry from the vulgarity and irritation of business. His own verses were easy and pleasing, and might have claimed no low place among those which the French call vers de société. The poetical character of his mind was displayed in his extraordinary partiality for the poetry of the two most poetical nations -or, at least, languages of the west, those of the Greeks and of the Italians. He disliked political conversation, and never willingly took any part in it. To speak of him justly as an orator would require a long essay. Every where natural, he carried into public something of that simple and negligent exterior which belonged to him in private. When he began to speak, a common observer might have thought him awkward; and even a consummate judge could only have been struck with the exquisite justness of his ideas and the transparent simplicity of his manners. But no sooner had he spoken for some time than he was changed into another being. He forgot himself and every thing around him. He thought only of his subject. His genius warmed and kindled as he went on. He darted fire into his audience. Torrents of impetuous and irresistible eloquence swept along their feelings and conviction. He certainly possessed, above all moderns, that union of reason, simplicity, and vehemence, which formed the prince of orators. He was the most Demosthenean speaker since Demosthenes. "I knew him," says Mr. Burke, in a pamphlet written after their unhappy difference, "when he was nineteen; since which time he has risen, by slow degrees, to be the most brilliant and accomplished debater the world ever saw." The quiet dignity of a mind roused only by great objects, the absence of petty bustle, the contempt of show, the abhorrence of intrigue, the plainness, and downrightness, and the thorough good nature which distinguished Mr. Fox, seem to render him no very unfit representative of that old English national character, which, if it ever changed, we should be sanguine indeed to expect to see succeeded by a better. The simplicity of his character inspired con fidence, the ardour of his eloquence roused enthusiasm, and the gentleness of his manners invited friendship. "I admired," says Gibbon, "the powers of a superior man as they are blended, in his attractive character, with all the softness and simplicity of a child; no human being was ever more free from any taint of malignity, vanity, and falsehood." From these qualities of his public and private character, it probably arose, that no English statesman ever preserved, during so long a period of adverse fortunes, so many affectionate friends and so many zealous adherents. The following very vivid delineation of his powers as an orator is from the pen of his friend Lord Erskine : - This extraordinary person, generally, in rising to speak, had evidently no more premeditated the particular language he should employ, nor, frequently, the illustrations and images by which he should discuss and enforce his subject, than he had contemplated the hour he was to die. And his exalted merit as a debater in parliament did not, therefore, consist in the length, variety, or roundness of his periods, but in the truth and vigour of his conceptions; in the depth and extent of his information; in the retentive powers of his memory, which enabled him to keep in constant view, not only all that he had formerly read and reflected on, but every thing said: the moment, and even at other times, by the various persons whose arguments he was to answer; in the faculty of spreading out his matter so clearly to the grasp of his own mind, as to render it impossible he should ever fail in the utmost clearness and distinctness to others; in the exuberant fertility of his imagination, which spontaneously brought forth his ideas at the moment, in every possible shape in which the understanding might sit in judgment on them; whilst, instead of seeking afterwards to enforce them by cold premeditated illustrations or by episodes, which, however beautiful, only distract attention, he was accustomed to repass his subject, not methodieally, but in the most unforeseen and fascinating review, enlightening every part of it; and binding even his adversaries in a kind of spell of involuntary assent for the time. apply to his speeches upon sudden and unforeThis will be found more particularly to seen occasions, when certainly nothing could be more interesting and extraordinary than to witness, as I have often done, the mighty and unprepared efforts of his mind, when he had to encounter the arguments of some profound reasoner, who had deeply considered his subject, and arranged it with all possible art, to preserve its parts unbroken. To hear him begin, on such occasions, without method, without any kind of exertion, without the smallest impulse from the desire of distinction or triumph, and animated only by the honest sense of duty, an audience who knew him not would have expected little success from the conflict-as little as a traveller in the east, whilst trembling at a buffalo in the wild vigour of its well-protected strength, would have looked to its immediate destruction, when he saw the boa moving slowly and inertly towards him in the grass. But Fox, unlike the serpent in every thing but his strength, always taking his station in some fixed, invulnerable principles, soon surrounded and entangled his adversary, disjointing every member of his discourse, and strangling him in the irresistible folds of truth. This intellectual superiority, by which my illustrious friend was so eminently distinguished, might nevertheless have existed in all its strength, without raising him to the exalted station he held as a public speaker. The powers of the understanding are not of themlect alone, however exalted, without strong selves sufficient for this high purpose. Intelwould be only like an immense magazine of feelings, without even irritable sensibility, gunpowder, if there were no such element as fire in the natural world. It is the heart which is the spring and fountain of eloquence. A thing I know, compose in his closet an eloquent cold-blooded, learned man, might, for any book; but in public discourse, arising out of sudden occasions, he could, by no possibility, be eloquent. It has been said, that he was frequently careless of the language in which he expressed himself; but I can neither agree to the justice, nor even comprehend the meaning, of that criticism. He could not be incorrect from carelessness; because, having lived from his youth in the great world, and having been familiarly conversant with the classics of all nations, his most unprepared speaking (or, if critics will have it so, his most negligent) must have been at least grammatical, which it not only uniformly was, but distinguished by its taste: more than that could not have belonged to it, without the very care which his habits and his talents equally rejected. He undoubtedly attached as little to the musical intonation of his speeches as to the language in which they were expressed. His emphases were the unstudied effusions of nature-the vents of a mind burning intensely with the generous flame of public spirit and benevolence, beyond all control or management when impassioned, and above the rules to which inferior things are properly subjected; his sentences often rapidly succeeded, and almost mixed themselves with one another-as the lava rises in bursts from the mouth of a volcano, when the resistless energies of the subterranean world are at their height. closing, to the last and greatest political We can only cursorily allude, in achievement of Mr. Fox, to which an allusion is contained in the monument article. It is commemorated in the folrepresented at the commencement of this lowing spirited passage from the pen of the Rev. G. Croly : : Fox's politics may now be obsolete; his parliamentary triumphis may be air; his eloquence may be rivalled, or shorn of its beams by time; but one source of glory cannot be extinguished-the abolition of the slave-trade. This victory no man can take from him. Whatever variety of opinion may be formed on his public principles, whatever condemnation may be found for his personal career, whatever doubts of his great faculties: on this one subject all voices will be raised in his honour, and the hand of every man of English feeling will add a stone to the monument that perpetuates his name. On the 10th of June, 1806, Fox brought forward his motion, in a speech brief but decided. "So fully," said he, “am I impressed with the vast importance and necessity of attaining what will be the object of my motion to-night, that if, during the forty years that I have had the honour of a seat in parliament, I should have been so fortunate as to accomplish that, and that only, I should think I had done enough, and should retire from public life with comfort, and the conscious satisfaction that I had done my duty.” His speech concluded with the immortal resolution:-"THAT THIS HOUSE, CONCEIVING THE AFRICAN SLAVE-TRADE TO BE CONTRARY TO THE PRINCIPLES OF JUSTICE, HUMANITY, AND SOUND POLICY, WILL, WITH ALL PRACTICABLE EXPEDITION, PROCEED TO TAKE EFFEC TRADE, IN SUCH MANNER AND AT SUCH PERIOD TUAL MEASURES FOR ABOLISHING THE SLAVE AS MAY BE DEEMED ADVISABLE." On the division, one hundred and fourteen voted for the measure, against it only fifteen! few days after, he was taken ill of his mortal This was the last effort made by Fox. In a disease. No orator, no philosopher, no patriot, could have wished for a nobler close to his labours. SLAVERY. OH, SLAVERY! "thou art a bitter draught!" T. P. THE TOURIST. MONDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1833. IMMEDIATE EMANCIPATION. WE copy the following very able article from a recent number of "The Patriot." It contains some of the most original and forcible arguments which we have seen advanced on this subject. The book which it so strongly commends to notice is the Anti-Slavery Reporter, No. 104. If we have any readers in whose mind there lurks the shadow of a doubt as to the safety, the expediency, or the duty of immediately abolishing the condition of slavery, they owe it to themselves, and to the cause of humanity, to procure and make themselves thoroughly acquainted with this important document. The main parts of the inquiry referred to the committee embraced the following two propositions: 1. That the slaves, if emanci- | pated, will adequately maintain themselves by their own labour; and, 2. That the danger of withholding freedom from the slaves is greater than that of granting it. The "fair and equitable consideration of the interests of private property, as connected with emancipation," | was not investigated by the Committee. In fact, this consideration ought not to be allowed for one moment to embarrass the settlement of the question, for three obvious reasons: First, the negro, at least, as Mr. Alers Hankey very properly observed, owes nothing to the planter, and the victims of our national guilt ought not to continue to suffer "while we are haggling about the pounds, shillings, and pence." Secondly, when it is finally determined that slavery shall cease, it will be quite time enough to go into the consideration of those special cases of hardship which may possibly require an equitable remedy. The claim to compensation is at present urged only as an argument ad terrorem, as it was during the agitation of the slave-trade question; the justice and the impracticability of compensation being insisted upon in the same breath. But for what is the slave-holder to be compensated? For the loss of his power over the person of the negro? or for the loss of his command over the labour of the negro? If for the former, he may just as reasonably claim compensation for every abridgment of his arbitrary power by humane enactments. If for the latter, he has to prove that his command over that labour will be taken away, or even diminished, by the abolition of slavery. Thirdly, let it be but admitted, what the evidence condensed in this pamphlet triumphantly establishes, that the slaves will, if emancipated, maintain them selves by their labour, and that no danger would result from granting them freedom; it follows that the abolition of slavery would be in two respects a boon to the planter: first, by cheapening labour (free labour being always cheapest); and, secondly, by extinguishing the element of danger which is always generated by slavery, and with it, both the conscious feeling of insecurity and the cost of protection. Should it appear that the interests of private property, the value of all legitimate property, are enhanced by the change in the condition of the slave (which it is our firm belief that, ultimately at least, they would be), the claim for equitable and reasonable com pensation would be brought within very nar- | but the supineness or mistakes of the friends to row limits. West Indians, and many persons who are less excusable for the prejudice, have so long been in the habit of considering the negroes as so much stock, that they consider the proposal to raise them to the social level of men, as tantamount to robbing them of so many head of cattle. They forget this trifling difference between the human herd employed upon their plantations, and the live-stock of a farm; the negro is of no use except for his labour. He cannot now, in the British islands at least, be bred for a foreign market. He yields neither milk, flesh, wool, horn, nor hides. An old negro is a burden to the proprietor. A dead negro is worth something less than nothing. His muscles and sinews alone are valuable, when set to work by the cart-whip and other apparatus. Now, as the property in the person of the negro is valuable, simply as giving a command over his physical labour, if that command can be secured without the proprietorship, which is in itself a burden, what does the slave-holder lose by giving up his whole stock? What more than a gentleman who should give up his carriage-horses, on condition of being furnished with the use of horses by the jobber, on cheaper terms than he could maintain his own in the livery-stable, taking into account the chances of loss by death, the veterinary surgeon's and farrier's bills, and the other attendant expenses ? Or, let us suppose that the gentleman's But if to hold men in slavery be a crime,- | The time is come for the settlement of the question. If slavery is not now abolished, it will be the fault of Christians in this country. Nothing can much longer delay the abolition, | emancipation. We entreat our readers to be on their guard against delusions. The following has been announced, among "the political principles of the Conservatives," as the specifie pretext upon which the abolition of slavery is now to be resisted by the pro-slavery party : "To promote, after a just and full compensation shall have been secured to the proprietor of each slave, the abolition of slavery throughout the British dominions, at such time, in each colony, as it can be effected with advantage to the slaves, safety to the colonies, and security to the shipping and commercial interests of the empire!" That is, delay, upon a double pretext, ad infinitum. We say, Now. Our opponents mean, Never. Again, we say, let every friend to the cause be on his guard; and, in order to this, let him arm himself at all points against delusion, by distinct, clear, thorough information. It is placed within his reach at so small a cost of money or labour, that he will be inexcusable if he neglect to furnish himself with it. This single number of the Reporter will supply him with a mass of evidence, which will probably satisfy him as to the expediency as well as the justice of an early, not to say immediate, emancipation. If not, let him not rest till he has obtained complete satisfaction; and then, let him not rest till he has followed out his convictions by every constitutional means of giving effect to the decisions of his conscience and the feelings of his heart. SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF JOSEPHUS, At THE JEWISH HISTORIAN. JOSEPHUS, whose "History of the Wars of the Jews" is too well known to need any description, was, by his father, of the race of the priests, and of the first of the twenty-four courses; and by his mother he was descended from the Asmonæan family, in which the royal power was united with that of the high-priesthood. He was born at Jerusalem, in the first year of Caius Caligula. At sixteen years, he began to inquire into the sentiments of the different sects among the Jews,—the Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes. At twenty-six he went to Rome, to petition the emperor Nero in behalf of several priests of his acquaintance, whom Felix had sent bound to Rome. Puteoli he became acquainted with Aliturus, a Jewish comedian, who had ingratiated himself with Nero. Through this man he was introduced to Poppaa, the wife of Nero, by whose interest he succeeded in obtaining liberty for his friends, and from whom he also obtained many considerable presents. The following year he returned into Judea, when he saw every thing tending to a revolt under Gessius Florus. In the beginning of the Jewish war, he commanded in Galilee. When Vespasian, who was a general of the Roman army under the reign of Nero, had conquered that country, Josephus was taken at Jotapata. He and forty more Jews had concealed themselves in a subterraneous cavern, where they formed the desperate resolution of killing each other rather than surrender themselves to the Romans. Josephus, having been governor of the place, and therefore entitled to priority in point of rank, it was at first proposed by the rest to yield it to him as an honour, to become the first victim. He, however, contrived to divert their minds from this, by proposing to cast lots for the precedency; and after thirty-nine had ballotted and killed one another, he, and the other who survived, agreed not to lay violent hands upon themselves, nor to imbrue their hands in one another's blood, but deliver themselves up to the Romans. Upon this, Josephus surrendered himself up to Nicanor, who conducted him to Vespasian. When brought into the presence of the latter, Josephus told him that he had something to communicate to him which would probably strike him with much surprise, and perhaps not obtain his immediate credit-it was that he, Vespasian, should become Emperor of Rome, in less than three years. Aware that the general might think this was merely a stratagem on the part of Josephus to save his life, the latter told him that he did not ask for his liberty, he was content to be kept as a close prisoner during the interval; and that, should his prediction not be realized, he was content to be then put to death. Vespasian yielded to his request, although he, at first, placed no credit in what Josephus had said. He, however, kept the latter with him, as a prisoner, while he himself continued in these parts; but when he heard that he had been elected Emperor at Rome, he gave him his liberty, and raised him to his confidence and favour. Josephus con tinued with his son Titus, who took the com- CURIOUS FACT. IT is a fact not much known, that the eel, though it lives in an element that seems to place it beyond the reach of atmospheric changes, is yet singularly affected by high winds. This is well known to the inhabitants of Linlithgow, who have an excellent opportunity of observing the habits of that animal in the loch adjoining the town. The stream which flows out of the loch at the west end, passes through a sluice, and falls into an artificial stone reservoir, from which it escapes by a number of holes at the sides and bottom. These holes are too small to let eels of a common size pass, and hence this reservoir answers the purpose of an eel trap or cruive. 205 The fish, however, are rarely found in it in SONNET TO AFFLICTION. O THOU! with wakening step and withering eye, G. WOBURN ABBEY. of the Ionic order, and the general cha- WOBURN ABBEY, the principal seat of the Duke of Bedford, is a spacious and superb pile of building, erected on the site of a religious house, founded in the year 1145, for monks of the Cistercian order. In the reign of Edward the Sixth the property of Woburn, together with many other ecclesiastical estates, was granted to the Russel family; and the present mansion was constructed on the This noble mansion is situated in the domain thus easily acquired, by John, midst of an extensive park, finely unequal the fourth Duke of Bedford. The ground-in surface, and richly clothed with wood. plan of the building forms a square of more than two hundred feet, having a quadrangular court in the centre. Many improvements have been effected at different times, particularly under the direction of the late Duke. The west front is But the chief object of attraction in the observed "that what is generally done by a united society, was here effected by an individual; his grace rewarded invention, fostered ingenuity, and gave a fair practical trial to every new theory in the invaluable science of agriculture." The example of this patriotic nobleman has operated beneficially on the country at large; and has, in no instance, met with more judicious imitation than in the person of his successor. Queen Elizabeth made a journey to Woburn in 1572; and when Charles I. visited Woburn, in 1645, notwithstanding the Earl of Bedford was then in the service of the parliament, the monarch slept at the Abbey. OBSERVATIONS ON MAGNETISM. Or the four active agents in Nature, viz. Light, Electricity, Caloric, and Magnetism, the science of the last has made the least progress. The principle of magnetism, as to its influence on iron, was known many centuries anterior to the Christian æra; and, being supposed by Thales as resembling vitality, it appears that Plato, Aristotle, and Pliny, who mentioned it, were satisfied with this supposition. should have been as to electricity, had every material substance equal conducting powers. though, from the observations of Delaroche, The same reasoning applies to caloric. AlBerard, Dulong, and Petit, we may consider that the atoms of all the simple chemical elements have equal capacities for caloric, yet, in their infinite variety of combinations, no two arrangements exactly accord. Also with respect to light, the undulatory system, which is more generally received, leads to the supposition that the ethereal luminous matter is so Its polarity was not discovered till the twelfth diffused, as not only to occupy the intervals century: but who applied it to the great pur- between the particles of all material bodies, pose of navigation is not known; it is a point but also the substance itself; to allow of its contested by the Italians, the French, and the Venetians. The English lay no claim to the impulses, each particle must be in juxtaposition: if, with Dr. Herschell, we suppose that invention of the compass: they have the honour optical phenomena lead to the calculation of of suspending the box which holds the needle. Mr. Norman in 1576 first remarked that the red light, the number of undulations in one there being 37,640 undulations in one inch of north end of a needle, when magnetised, has second of time will amount to 468 billions. a tendency to incline so as to form an angle From the experiments of Savart it appears that below the horizon, called the dipping of the the ear can distinguish 24,000 vibrations in needle; which varies in different places, and in the same place at different times. Thus, at vibrations similar to pendulous bodies, it is one second and contemplating sounds as London in 1576, the angle of inclination with easy to calculate that the number of vibrations respect to the horizon was 71° 50′; in 1718, in the wing of a gnat to produce its particular between 749 and 759. The more important dis-buzzing note will at least be 5,000 in one secovery was made by Sebastian Cabot, in 1500; cond. How many particles of hydrogen may viz. the variation of the needle; the great value of which may be properly appreciated, by is transmitted 3,000 feet in one second through be placed in the length of one inch! yet sound particularising its incalculable advantage in this gas; and to produce this sound, and to navigation. The course of a ship on the surcontinue the communication, each distinct face of our globe is a great circle; and the course steered is, that she makes the same angle with the meridians over which she passes: if a vessel sails due north or south, she evidently describes a great circle of the sphere or part of such a circle; or if due east or west, she cuts all the meridians at right angles in almost every instance, her course is oblique to these principal points, and under such circumstances, by means of the compass, she can make the same angle with the meridians over which she passes, and the line described is that curve known to mathematicians by the name of the nautical spiral or rhumb line. Till within these few years, magnetism was supposed to be a principle confined to ferruginous bodies. The late brilliant electro-magnetic experiments have demonstrated the universality of this principle, except in iron, which alone constitutes an imperfect conductor of this surprising agent. From the agency of galvanism on copper wires, we are induced to suppose that magnetism is more superficially distributed than electricity; yet we are not justified by experiments in stating, that its power is regulated by the extent of metallic surface. It is the most delicate test of galvanism we possess: and, by late experiments, its reaction on electricity has elicited a galvanic spark. Perhaps the most astonishing experiment is that lately made by Professor Sillman, of America. Many hundred yards of insulated copper wire (viz. covered with silk), wapped round a large horseshoe magnet, and the two ends of the wire so arranged as to form the circuit in a galvanic battery, the disturbed magnetism, in its transit to its state of equalization, supported near a ton weight. Here we observe an agent, whose weight is inappreciable; whose material resistance is never experienced; yet, under certain conditions, capable of counteracting such extensive force of gravitation. Had it not been for iron being an imperfect conductor, we should for ever have remained ignorant of the existence of such a principle as magnetism; and in the same state we particle must have an oscillatory motion, with Whether the principle of universal gravita- agent, or to motion alone, would constitute a announced a Series of Lectures on Electro- REMARKABLE ESCAPE OF CHARLES Or the parents of Richard Cogan, an anec- sides, he took refuge at Coaxden, and, entering given an interesting narrative of his peregrina- THE FAIR THIEF. Earl of Egremont to his Wife. |