by the lady, who was then a widow, to her only surviving son. She desired him to imitate the example of his father, who, by his abilities and virtues, had obtained the confidential regard of two kings, and the esteem of the world. That Sir Richard was in high favor with Charles I. appears from the following passage:"When I took my leave (of the king) I could not refrain weeping: when he had saluted me, I prayed God to preserve his majesty. He stroked me on the cheek, and said, 'Child, if God pleaseth, it shall be so, but you and I must submit to God's will; and you know what hands I am in;' then turning to my husband, he said, 'Be sure, Dick, to tell my son all I have said, and deliver those letters to my wife. Pray God bless her; I hope I shall do well;' and taking him in his arms, said, 'Thou hast ever been an honest man, and I hope God will bless thee, and make thee a happy servant to my son, whom I have charged in my letter to continue his love and trust to you."

We ought to mention that Sir Richard was not only an able negotiator, but was also an ingenious poet. His poems, though seldom read in the present day, are far from being contemptible; and his translation of the Lusiad of Camoëns, though less elegant and forcible than Mickle's version, is a more correct and faithful representation of the original.

A REMARKABLE LETTER FROM A LATE

DISTINGUISHED LADY.

WHEN the death of M. de Beauhar nais had made Josephine a widow, she did not long remain in a forlorn or neglected state. Bonaparte, who was then a general of brigade, admired her person, was pleased with her character, and declared himself her lover. Unwilling to act in so important a concern without friendly advice, she addressed the following letter to a lady of whose sense she had a high opinion.

"They wish me to marry again, my dear friend. All my friends advise me, my aunt almost commands me, and my children entreat me, to do so. Why are you not here to give me your opinion in this important affair, to persuade me that I ought not to refuse my consent to an union which will relieve me from the inconveniences of my present situation? Your friendship, from which I have

already derived so much benefit, would render you clear-sighted to my interests, and I should decide without hesitation as soon as you had spoken. You have seen general Bonaparte at my house. Well, it is he who wishes to become the father of the orphans of Alexandre de Beauharnais, the husband of his widow. Do you love him?' you hasten to ask me. Why-no. "You dislike him, then?' No; but I am in a lukewarm state, which displeases me, and which devotees consider the most grievous of all in matters of religion. Love being a species of religion, one's feeling with respect to it ought to be very different from mine; and therefore it is that I wish for your counsel, which would fix the perpetual irresolution of my feeble character. To decide upon any thing for myself has always appeared fatiguing to my Creole supineness, which finds it infinitely more convenient to obey the decision of others. I admire the general's courage; the extent of his knowlege on all subjects, upon which he speaks equally well; the promptness of his mind, which enables him to comprehend the thoughts of others almost before they are expressed: but I confess that I am frightened at the authority which he seems to wish to exercise over all who surround him. His scrutinising look has in it something singularly inexplicable, which awes even the directory; judge if it must not intimidate a woman. fine, that which ought to please me, the strength of a passion of which he speaks with an energy which admits no doubt of his sincerity, is precisely that which stops the consent which I am frequently on the point of giving. Being no longer in the prime of youth, can I hope long to retain this violent attachment, which on the part of the general resembles a delirious transport? If when we are united he should cease to love me, will he not reproach me with what he has done for me? Will he not regret that he did not contract a more brilliant marriage? What should I reply? What should I do? I should weep. 'A fine resource!' you exclaim. Mon Dieu ! I know that it does no good; but it has been at all times my sole refuge when my poor susceptible heart has been wounded. Write to me immediately, and fear not to scold me if you think I am wrong. You know that coming from you every thing is well received. Barras

In

govern

assures me that, if I marry the general, he will obtain for him the command in chief of the army of Italy. Yesterday, Bonaparte, talking to me of this favor, at which, although it has not yet been granted, his brethren in arms are already murmuring, said, 'Do they think that I need protection in order to rise? One day they will all be too happy if I consent to grant them mine! My sword is by my side; and with it I will make my way in the world.' What say you to this certainty of succeeding? Is it not a proof of a confidence arising out of excessive self-love? A general of brigade protect the chiefs of the ment! I do not know how it is; but sometimes this absurd assurance leads me to believe every thing to be possible which this singular man takes it into his head to attempt; and, with his imagination, who can predict what he may not attempt? We are all longing for you, and console ourselves for your prolonged absence only by incessantly talking of you, and tracing your steps in the beautiful country in which you are traveling. If I were sure to find you in Italy, I would marry to-morrow, on condition of accompanying the general. But we should perhaps cross each other on the road; so I consider it more prudent to wait for your answer before I determine. Hasten it, and still more your return. Madame Tallien charges me to tell you that she loves you tenderly. She is still handsome and kind; employing her immense influence only in obtaining favors for the unhappy who apply to her, and imparting to her benefits the air of an obligation conferred upon herself. Her friendship for me is warm and sincere. Mine for her resembles that which I entertain for you; and I cannot give you a better idea of the affection I bear her. Hortense becomes more and more amiable. Her charming shape is developing itself; and, if I wished it, I might have a fine opportunity of making disagreeable reflections on this abominable Time, who improves some, only at the expense of others! Happily, I have other things to think of; and I pass lightly over gloomy ideas, to dwell upon the future, which promises to be happy, since we shall soon be re-united, not again to part. Were it not for this marriage, which teases me, I should be very ray, in spite of every thing: but, while

self. As soon as it is concluded, come what may, I will be resigned. I am accustomed to suffer; and, if I should be destined to new griefs, I think that I could support them, provided that my children, my aunt, and you, remained to me. We have agreed to suppress the ends of ietters; adieu, therefore, my friend."

MEMOIR OF A LATE CELEBRATED
PHILOSOPHER.

WHATEVER may be said of the march of general intellect in our time, there is no doubt of the march of scientific skill. Morals, perhaps, are not improved, and polite learning is rather stationary than advancing; but philosophical chemistry and the mechanic arts are undoubtedly progressive. A check has been given to this progress by the death of Sir Humphry Davy; but his spirit still survives, and we need not despair of more important proficiency.

This gentleman was born at Penzance in the year 1779. His family was ancient, and above the middle class; his paternal great-grandfather had considerable landed property in the parish of Budgwin, and his father possessed a small paternal estate opposite to St. Michael's Mount, on which he died in 1795, after having injured his fortune by expending considerable sums in attempting agricultural improvements. Young Humphry received the rudiments of his education at the grammar-schools of Penzance and Truro; at the former place he resided with Mr. John Tomkin, surgeon, a benevolent and intelligent man. His genius was originally inclined to poetry; and there are many natives of Penzance who remember his poems and verses, written at the age of nine years. He cultivated this propensity until his fifteenth year, when he became the pupil of Mr. Borlase, an ingenious surgeon, intending to prepare himself for graduating as a physician at Edinburgh. As a proof of his uncommon mind, at this early age, it is worthy of mention, that Mr. Davy laid down for himself a plan of education, which embraced the circle of the sciences. By his eighteenth year he had acquired the rudiments of botany, anatomy, and physiology, the simpler mathematics, metaphysics, natural philosophy, and chemistry. But the last soon arrested his chief attention. Having made some expeyses week's

from the water of the ocean, which convinced him that these vegetables performed the same part in purifying the air dissolved in water which land-vegetables act in the atmosphere, he communicated them to Dr. Beddoes, who had at that time circulated proposals for publishing a journal of philosophical contributions from the West of England. This produced a correspond ence between Dr. Beddoes and Mr. Davy, in which the former proposed, that his friend, who was at this time only nineteen years of age, should suspend his plan of going to Edinburgh, and take a part in experiments which were then about to be instituted at Bristol, for investigating the medical powers of factitious airs; to this proposal Mr. Davy consented, on condition that he should have the uncontrolled superintendance of the experiments. About this time he became acquainted with Mr. Davies Gilbert, a gentleman of high scientific attainments, to whose judicious advice may be attributed his adoption of the study of chemistry. With Dr. Beddoes he resided for a considerable time, and was constantly occupied in chemical investigations. He now discovered the respirability of nitrous oxyd, and made a number of laborious experiments on gaseous bodies, which he afterwards published in "Researches Chemical and Philosophical," a work that was well received by the world, and created a high reputation for its author, at that time only twenty-one years of age. This led to his introduction to count Rumford, and to his being elected professor of chemistry to the Royal Institution. His first experiments in this station were made on the substance employed in the process of tanning; and during the same period he was frequently occupied in experiments on galvanism.

To the agriculturist, chemistry is a study of high consideration. The dependence of agriculture upon chemical causes had been previously noticed, but it was first completely demonstrated in a course of lectures before the Board of Agriculture, which Mr. Davy commenced in 1802, and continued for ten years. This series of lectures contained much popular and practical information.

In 1803, he was chosen a fellow of the Royal Society, and, in 1805, a member of the Irish Academy. He now enjoyed the friendship of most of the distinguished literary men and philosophers of the metropolis, and at the same time corresponded

with the principal chemists of every part of Europe. In 1806, he was appointed to deliver, before the Royal Society, the Bakerian lecture, in which he displayed some interesting new agencies of electricity, by means of the celebrated galvanic apparatus. Soon afterwards, he made an important discovery, in the decomposition of two fixed alkalies, which, in direct refutation of the hypothesis previously adopted, were found to consist of a peculiar metallic base united with a large quantity of oxygen. These alkalies were potash and soda, and the metals thus discovered were called potassium and sodium. He was equally successful in the application of galvanism to the decomposition of the earths. About this time he became secretary of the Royal Society. In 1808, he received a prize from the French Institute. During the greater part of 1810, he was employed on the combinations of oxymuriatic gas and oxygen; and, near the close of the same year, he delivered a course of lectures before the Dublin Society.

In 1812, he married his amiable lady, then Mrs. Apreece, daughter and heiress of the late Mr. Kerr, of Kelso. By his union with this lady, he acquired not only a considerable fortune, but the very valuable treasure of an affectionate and exemplary wife, and a congenial friend and companion, capable of appreciating his character and attainments. A few days before his marriage, he received the honor of knighthood from his majesty, then prince regent, being the first person en whom he conferred that dignity.

We now arrive at the most important result of Sir Humphry Davy's labors, namely, the invention of the safety-lamp for coal mines. This discovery has been the means of preserving many valuable lives, and preventing horrible mutilations, more terrible even than death; and were this his only invention, it would secure him high fame in the annals of civilisation and science. By a curious contrivance, he divested the fire-damp of all its terrors, and applied its powers, formerly so destructive, to the production of an useful light. We ought, however, to mention, that his invention has been improved by Mr. Dillon; and indeed all discoveries may be improved by proceeding upon the same basis, without detracting much from the merit of the inventor.

We could occupy many pages with the interesting details of Sir Humphry Davy's travels in different parts of Europe for

scientific purposes, particularly to investigate the causes of volcanic phænomena, to instruct the miners of the coal districts in "the application of his safety-lamp, to examine the state of the Herculaneum manuscripts, and illustrate the remains of the chemical arts of the ancients. He analysed the colors used in painting by the ancient Greek and Roman artists. His experiments were chiefly made on the paintings in the baths of Titus, the ruins called the baths of Livia, in the remains of other palaces and baths of ancient Rome, and in the ruins of Pompeii. By the kindness of Canova, who was charged with the care of the work connected with ancient art in Rome, he was enabled to select specimens of the different pigments found in the excavations which had been made beneath the ruins of the palace of Titus, and to compare them with the colors fixed on the walls, or detached in fragments of stucco. The results of these researches were published in the Transactions of the Royal Society for 1815, and are exceedingly interesting. concluding observations, in which he impresses on artists the superior importance of permanence to brilliancy of color, are especially worthy of the attention of artists. On his examination of the Herculaneum manuscripts, he was of opinion that they had not been acted upon by fire, so as to be completely carbonised, but that their leaves were cemented by a substance formed during the fermentation and chemical change of ages. He invented a composition for the solution of this substance, but he could not discover more than 100 out of 1,265 manuscripts, which presented any probability of success.

The

He returned to England in 1820, and in the same year Sir Joseph Banks, president of the Royal Society, died. Several discussions took place respecting a proper successor, when individuals of very exalted rank were named as candidates. But science, very properly in this case, superseded rank. Among the philosophers whose labors had enriched the transactions of the society, two were most generally adverted to, Sir Humphry Davy and Dr. Wollaston; but the latter modestly declined being a candidate after his friend had been nominated. Opposition was made to Sir Humphry's election by some unknown persons, who proposed lord Colchester; but our philosopher was placed in the chair by a majority of 200 to 13. For this honor

no one could be more completely qualified. He retained his seat until the year 1827, when, in consequence of ill health, in a great measure brought on by injuries occasioned to his constitution by scientific experiments, he was induced, by medical advice, to retire to the continent. He accordingly resigned his seat, and his friend Mr. Gilbert was unanimously elected president.

During the rest of his life he resided principally at Rome, where a short time ago he had an attack of a paralytic nature, but from which he was apparently, though slowly, recovering. Lady Davy, who had been detained in England by her own ill health, joined him at Rome, on hearing of his alarming state. Thence he traveled by easy stages to Geneva, without feeling any particular inconvenience, and without any circumstances which denoted the approach of dissolution: but, on the 29th of May last, he closed his mortal career, in the fiftieth year of his age.

His works, papers, and letters, are numerous: the majority are in the Transactions of the Royal Society. One of the most popular and interesting of his recent papers, is that on the Phænomena of Volcanoes. This contains a series of investigations of Vesuvius, leading to this hypothesis;-" that metals of the alkalies and earths might exist in the interior of the globe, and, on being exposed to the action of air and water, give rise to volcanic fires, and to the production of lavas, by the slow cooling of which basaltic and other crystalline rocks might subsequently be formed." We have not space for the details of these investigations; but we give the result.-"The phænomena observed by the author afforded a sufficient refutation of all the ancient hypotheses, in which volcanic fires were ascribed to such chemical causes as the combustion of mineral coal, or the action of sulphur upon iron; and are perfectly consistent with the supposition of their depending upon the oxydation of the metals of the earths upon an extensive scale, in immense subterranean cavities, to which water or atmospheric air may occasionally have access. The thunder heard at great distances under Vesuvius, prior to an eruption, indicates the vast extent of these cavities; and the existence of a subterranean communication between the Solfatara and Vesuvius, is established by the fact, that, whenever the latter is in an active state, the former is comparatively

tranquil. In confirmation of these views, the author remarks, that almost all the volcanoes of considerable magnitude in the old world, are in the vicinity of the sea; and in those where the sea is more distant, as in the volcanoes of South America, the water may be supplied from great subterranean lakes; for Humboldt states, that some of them throw up quantities of fish. The author acknowleges, however, that the hypothesis of the nucleus of the globe being composed of matter liquefied by heat, offers a still more simple solution of the phenomena of volcanic fires."

His principal works,-Chemical and Philosophical Researches, Elements of Chemical Philosophy, and Elements of Agricultural Chemistry, are written in a perspicuous style, and the two last are excellently adapted for elementary study. His other productions, likewise, have the merit of conveying experimental knowlege in the most attractive form, and thus reducing abstract theory to the practice and purposes of life and society. The results of his investigations and experiments were not pent up in the laboratory or lecture-room where they were made; but, by this valuable mode of communication, they have realised what ought to be the highest aim of science, the improvement of the condition and comforts of mankind.

GERALDINE OF DESMOND, OR IRELAND IN

THE REIGN OF ELIZABETH; an Histo rical Romance.

THE progress of refinement is unfa vorable to the occurrence of romantic incidents, which are chiefly found in the annals or the traditions of rude ages. The time of queen Elizabeth may be termed a rude age, as far as Ireland was concerned; for that country was in a very unsettled state until the reign of James the First. The old Irish families could not be tamed into servile submission, and their indignation at the tyranny of England could not be effectually repressed. Clanships and feudal tenures subsisted in those extensive districts which were not within the English pale or boundary; the chieftains and the minstrels studiously cherished the recollection of ancient independence and national glory; and a sense of honorable pride was mingled with the remains of barbarous manners and customs. It might be supposed that the

VOL. X.

inhabitants of the Pale would be frequently harassed by the desultory and not unjust reprisals of the ancient tribes; but the latter were too much divided by mutual animosities to coalesce effectively against the English, while their religion remained the same; and, even after the Reformation, when they were ordered to disbelieve the creed of their forefathers, to abandon their church, and relinquish those tenets which they thought essential to their eternal salvation, all Irish hands were not united against England in point of action, though in point of sentiment all Irish hearts, with the exception of a few nobles of the Pale, imbibed a strong horror against our country and her Protestantism. Although Elizabeth was justified in defending the reformed religion, and in maintaining her sovereignty in Ireland, yet, though right in her general object, she was wrong in her special means of attaining it, as if she had consulted Rome, and the Jesuits, and the Spaniards, for the best means of making Protestantism odious in Ireland; for her enemies could not have conscientiously advised her to a surer method of doing so, than to that system of spoliation and insult which she miscalled her government. The rebellions of her reign had thus all the bitterness of religious hatred; yet it would be underrating the wrongs of Ireland, to consider those insurrections in the light of mere religious warfare; for the violent extension of English dominion respected the property as little as the creed of the natives. The queen told her nobles that the troubles of Ireland would be the making of their fortunes; and, when Sir Henry Sydney and the Perrots were disposed to temper their strong measures of coercion with something like a mixture of equity and mercy, she recalled them, rebuked and disgraced them, and sentenced one of the Perrots to death.

In framing a work of fiction on the groundwork of this tragic period, our authoress has chosen her leading characters from two families, which were alternately pre-eminent for several centuries in the history of Ireland. One was the Butler family of Ormond, the other that of Desmond, a branch of the Geraldines. The only great circumstance in the tale that is unsupported by history, is the mutual attachment between lord Thurles, son of the former peer, and Geraldine, daughter of Desmond; but

The daughter of Dr. Crumpe.
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