URIM AND THUMMIM.

Exod. xxviii. 30.

"And thon shalt put in the breast-plate

of judgment the Urim and the Thummim; and they shall be upon Aaron's heart, when he goeth in before the Lord; and Aaron shall bear the judgment of the children of Israel upon his breast before the Lord continually."

The breast-plate in which the mys. terious stones of the Twelve Tribes were fixed, was called Essen, which in Greek signifies the Oracles. The Greeks also themselves called it the Oracle, from a conviction of its ora-, cular powers. Joseph. Antiq. B. 3. C. 7. s. 5, and B. 3. C. 8. s. 9.

Lucian mentions as an extraordinary appendage to the statue of Juno, in the great temple of Hierapolis, a jewel on her head, which they call the lamp, from its lustre; by night, he adds, it shines with such a splendour as to light the whole temple; though in the day time it is less bright, and has the appearance of a pale fire.-Lucian de deá Syria. 506. In the town of Cincinnati, on the banks of the Ohio, a few years ago, was found a singular relic of Antiquity, on the fall of a large portion of the bank of the river. It is a green stone, twelve inches in every diameter, divided into twelve sides, each side into twelve equal parts, and each part distinguished by characteristic engravings. What these engravings represented, none of my informers could describe. Some told me they were irregular etchings of which nothing could be made, and others affected to see in them the most scientific design, embracing a mystery, the clue of which it was impossible to find. The fate of this beautiful object so interesting to science and the history of former times, is not to be traced with the precision to be desired. It is said that a stranger, enamoured of its characters, procured and took it down the river, and it has since found its way to the federal city, and to the cabinet of arts in Philadelphia.-Ashe's Travels in N. America, vol. ii. p. 202.

As the prophets of the Hebrews had oracular answers, so the Indian

Magi, who are to invoke Yo, He, Wah, and mediate with the supreme holy fire that he may give rains, have a transparent stone of supposed great power, in assisting to bring down the rain when it is put in a bason of water; by a reputed divine virtue, impressed on one of the like sort in time of old which communicates it circularly. This stone would suffer a great decay, they assert, were it even to be seen by their own laity; but if by foreigners, it would be ut terly despoiled of its divine commu. nicative power. A Cheerake prophet had a carbuncle nearly as big as an egg, which they said he found where a great rattle snake lay dead, and that it sparkled with such surprising lustre, as to illuminate his dark winter house, like strong flashes of continued lightning, to the great terror of the weak, who durst not, upon any account, approach the dreadful fire-darting place, for fear of sudden death. When he died, it was buried with him according to custom, in the town house of Ty. mahse, under the great beloved cabin, which stood in the westernmost part of that old fabric, where they who will run the risk of searching, may luckily find it; but if any of that family detected them in disturbing the bones of their deceased relation, they would resent it as the basest piece of hostility.

Not long ago, at a friendly feast, or feast of love in Florida, during the time of a long continued drought, I earnestly importuned the old rainmaker, for a sight of the pretended divine stone, which he had assured me he was possessed of; but he would by no means gratify my request. He told me, as I was an infidel, literally, "one who shakes hands with. the accursed spirit," and did not believe in its being endued with a divine power, the sight of it could no ways benefit me; and that as their old unerring tradition assured them it would suffer great

damage in case of compliance, he hoped I would kindly acquiesce; especially, as he imagined I believed that every nation of people had certain beloved things, which might be easily spoiled by being polluted.Adair, p. 88.

The people of Manta, in S. America, paid particular attention to a certain precious stone, an emerald it was, and reported to be as large an ostrich's egg. This jewel was always shewn publicly at their solemn feasts, and the Indians came from all parts about to see and adore it, and make offerings of other emeralds to it, for this the priests told them was the most acceptable of all they could make. Harris's Coll. vol. i. p. 786.

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"And the Angel of the Lord appeared unto him in a flame of fire, out of the midst of a bush; and he looked, and behold the bush burned with fire, and the bush was not consumed."

Dion Chrysostom mentions that the Persians relate a story concerning Zoroaster, whose love of wisdom and virtue leading him to a solitary life upon a mountain, he found it one day all in a flame, shining with celestial fire, from the midst of which he came without any harm, and instituted certain sacrifices to God, who, he declared had appeared to him. Illustrations from Natural History.

CRANES AND STORKS.
Jeremiali, viii, 7.

"Yea the stork in the heaven knoweth her appointed time.”

The storks come here (Bagdad) about the middle of March in great abundance, and return again some time in July with their young which are hatched here. They make their nests on the tops of the highest buildings, such as the columns of the Mosques. About the middle of June they begin to teach their young to fly, the parents always attending, and about the end of the month they REMEMBRANCER, No. 45.

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begin to lengthen their flights, and are seen to go away in the morning carly, and not return until evening, this they always perform in three or four squadrons or divisions, in a very regular manner. About the middle of July they all combine about two hours before sun-set, in three or four divisions. They then soar higher than usual, and make se veral circuits about the city and adjacent country. This they repeat daily, with such regularity and seeming obedience to their chief (who always is single and foremost) that it delights and surprises every behol der. At length the 25th of July arrived, the day on which they took their final departure for this year. Early in the morning they all collected and formed themselves into four divisions, and flew, or rather sailed, round the city, very leisurely and not very high, then continued hovering some time near together as if in consultation, and about eight in the morning they flew straight away very swiftly to the N.W.

The storks pay an annual visit to Turkey, they arrive in vast numbers about the middle of March, and always in the night. They arrange their progress very systematically. They send forward their scouts who make their appearance a day or two before the grand army, and then return to give in their report, after which the whole body advances, and on its passage leaves during the night its detachments to garrison the different towns and villages on their way. Early in October they take their departure in the same manner, so that no one can know from whence they come or whither they go. They are known in the night time to leave all the villages, and have been seen in the air like immense clouds. They leave none behind but those who from infirmity or accident are unable to fly. A person who, at the season of their departure, was in the habit of coming from the interior, told me, that on his journey the year preceding, he had seen thousands and hun

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dreds of thousands of them near the banks of a river, and that they annually assemble there, and when the general sees that his whole army is collected, he at a given moment sets them in motion, leaving a detachment no doubt to bring up the stragglers-P. 125. Travels in Turkey, Italy, and Russia, by Thos. Macgill, vid. p. 77.

On the way from Tenedos (towards the end of August or beginning of September,) we were amused by vast caravans or companies of cranes, passing high in the air from Thrace, to winter, as we supposed, in

BALGUY'S ADVICE TO AN

UNMARRIED LADY.

THE new edition of Dr. Balguy's works contains several pieces never before published. Among them is his Advice to an unmarried Lady, the principal part of which will be found in the following extract :

First, then, if you would avoid misery, expect not to be happy.

This may seem a strange tale, but I am going to explain it. I only mean that you must not expect happiness pure and unalloyed. Think not that you are entering into a state of perpetual love, and joy, and peace. For no such state was ever found, or ever will be found on this side the grave. Even the Sparkler (in the Guardian) who was content to be easy here, and happy hereafter, expected a great deal too much. Care and anxiety in a thousand shapes are the lot of humanity; and you may as well suppose that marriage should cure you of the head ache, as that it should free you from grief and uneasiness. Nay, be not discouraged, if I venture to foretel that it will produce new uneasiness, of various kinds, and will fill you with numberless fears and

disquiets, which in a single state might probably have been avoided.

Things are dealt out with so equal a hand, that whatever increases our joy, usually increases our sorrow too; and I fear we must not pretend that matrimony is any exception to this rule. (This, however, is no argument against it; other wise one might wish to sleep their whole time, and so lose all the pleasure, as well as escape the pains of life.) All I insist on is only this, that you do not enter on your jour ney with too high an opinion of the road you are to travel; the dangers and difficulties you are likely to meet will be much less apt to dis compose you, when you are prepared to meet them. Whereas, if you look for nothing but purling streams and flowery meadows, the very first appearance of rough ways and stormy weather will quite overpower your spirits, and you will be in danger of sinking under the disappointment.

2. Do not imagine that you are going to marry an angel.

That is, do not expect a man free from human infirmities. The best husbands in the world have their fits of folly, and obstinacy, and ill

humour. Absolute perfection is a visionary thing, to be found only in plays and romances, not in real life. And though men may hide their failings from the world, yet their own families are sure to know them, and to suffer from them. Be assured, therefore, that the man you marry will, in numberless instances, both think and talk, and act unreasonably. Impress this thought so fully in your mind, that you may rather wonder he errs so seldom, than lose your temper, because he errs at all. Consider the behaviour of those persons whom of all others in the world you love best. Their characters are amiable; their examples in a thousand particulars are worthy to be imitated; but have they no faults? are they never in the wrong? Have you found them on all occasions, under all circum stances, in perpetual serenity and good humour? Certainly not. Why then should you expect from a new relation greater degrees of wisdom and goodness than you have experienced in your old ones? Believe me as the world goes, a much less share than that will entitle a man to your indulgence and even your esAnd perhaps in any case, but that of marriage, you yourself would think so: only you will say that the affection of a husband, if he be really sincere in it, will surely prevent him from behaving ill to his wife, whatever he may do to others. But what is that affection you expect from him? You have lived too long in the world, and seen too much of it to suppose that the raptures of a honey-moon should continue for life. The character of the lover must give place to that of the friend; and where is that friend to be found, who in no instance what ever would give you cause of complaint? Coolness and indifference from those you love would be sure to afford you uneasiness; and yet on the other hand too tender a regard would expose you to perpetual inconveniences and disappointments.

teem.

Judge, then, if it can be imagined that even the best of friends should at all times keep clear of both extremes; and love you neither more nor less than you yourself would choose. (I make no scruple to suppose that excess of affection would be a misfortune to you, because you have already experienced something like it; and I suppose you would esteem a want of affection a much greater.) Nothing I think has here been said of which you possibly need to be informed: but I judge it of the highest importance that you should reflect on it, and make the reflection habitual. By this means you will learn to bear with your husband's failings, and to be easy under such misfortunes, as it is impossible to prevent. When you hear him talk weakly, or see him act perversely, you will say to yourself, "I knew he was a man." When you find him resolved to follow his own whims, and regardless of the pressing remonstrances you make against them, you will still say "he is a man." Nay, when he is displeased without reason, and treats you with ill humour instead of tenderness and kindness; you will still satisfy yourself with this single reflection-All this is only a human infirmity; it is no more than was of course to be expected from every creature in the shape of a

man.

3. Continue a good Protestant as long as you live.

This caution you may think unnecessary; but do you know what it is that distinguishes Popery from all other religions? Nothing so much as its pretences to infallibility. These pretences I hope you will never make; but always be ready to own that you may possibly err. Most people are willing enough to allow this in general, but yet they are quite sure of the contrary in all particular instances. But now I should think it no extravagant computation, if I were to suppose that between this time and the day of

your death you may fall into eighty or ninety mistakes: I say this on supposition that you have forty or forty-five years to live. Two mistakes in a year is the very least I can allow you. Now I have often observed in myself that I am most frequently mistaken in those cases, where I have been most positive: and I suspect it is the same with other people.

The first time, therefore, after your marriage that you are disposed to be very confident, I would recommend you to consider, whether the opinion you then entertain may not possibly be one of the two mistakes you are to commit next year; and lest it should abate something of your confidence, not to be quite so sure as you otherwise would be. To deal plainly with you, you ought no more to think yourself an angel, than your husband. You are certainly liable to errors and failings as well as he, and as you know this to be true, you should be careful not to forget it. For pray consider, you will certainly allow me to suppose, that your husband is upon an equality with you in point of understanding: I ask no more:-if you grant me this, it is sufficient for my purpose. I say, then, that whenever you think him in the wrong, it is an even chance that you are in the wrong yourself: this you cannot deny, unless you maintain that he is more likely to err; and how should that be if he has as much sense and as sound judgment as you

have? But if as I suppose, there be an even chance, see what follows, viz. that instead of making him the object of your displeasure, for shutting his eyes to reason, you will be uncertain whether you have not shut your own. There is indeed a fault either in your sight or his; but what right have you to decide in your own favour? If none, then I hope you are convinced that you ought to allow your husband to differ from you without any degree

of resentment or ill humour: that even, when you blame his conduct, you blame it with diffidence, and suspect that the fault is in yourself; in short, that you will firmly believe one half of his failings to be purely imaginary, and one half of those he shall impute to you to be real.

4. Neither blame nor contradict before company.

For either you will convince your hearers that you are in the right or you will not. If you do, you ex, pose your husband, if not you expose yourself. On the former sup. position you pay dear for your victory, in the latter you have a shameful defeat. In general, I be lieve you will admit this rule to be reasonable; but there are two par ticular cases which it may be need ful to enlarge upon. For, first, you may inquire, whether I would dis suade you from contradicting in your own defence? I mean when your husband has first contradicted you? to which I answer without any doubt, "Never defend yourself at all." As soon as you discern that his sentiments differ from yours, either give up the point, or be silent without being sullen, or change the subject of discourse. I allow that you are in the right and he in the wrong perhaps too it is of impor tance that you should convince him. But I must think that you judge very ill, if you attempt to convince him before witnesses. For not to mention how disagreeable, or how ridiculous such disputes must be in respect of your hearers; what good end can you possibly propose by them? You say, to convince. But pray do you find by experience that men are thus convinced? Do they not pique themselves on supporting what they have once asserted, and think their honour concerned in maintain ing it? And will your husband be likely in such a disposition, to give up the point in question, and indulge, you in a public triumph over his weakness? This I think you will not say. But why should you