987 Answer to a Query on Departed Spirits. 988 the sun can give, to illuminate a single not in reality different; but the diffetown. Who it is, that has adjusted rence lies, not in colours inhering in the velocity of light to its density, or those substances, but in the various its density to its velocity, and the arrangement of the particles of matter visual tablet in the eye to both, our composing their surface, reflecting the reason and our heart will not hesitate various rays of light. There have to say. The fool, indeed, "hath said | been instances of blind persons, who in his heart, that there is no God." have served ribbons in a mercer's Why hath he said so? Because he is a shop, and distinguished their colours, fool! to a surprising accuracy, with their fingers. But what did those persons feel? the colour of the ribbons? Assuredly not!-they felt the different surfaces of them, and determined by the roughness or smoothness, hardness or softness, of those surfaces. Colour does not come in at the finger-ends, but at the eye. It was reserved for the immortal Newton to discover, that light is not simple, but compounded. A stream of light, flowing from a luminous, or reflected from an opake substance, is called a ray of light: this ray appears to the eye to be white, and a collection of such rays to any extent, appears the same. But by innumerable experiments, it has been demonstrated, that this ray of light, which to the eye appears white, is actually a compound of seven other rays, none of which are white. A ray of light when divided by the prism, gives the seven primitive colours; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet; none of which, by any power of refraction yet discovered, can be further divided. These seven rays, mixed and compounded, form the absence of all colour, or white. This may be illustrated by a very easy experiment: if a circular piece of board, with the seven primitive colours painted upon it, be turned round its centre with great veloeity, it will appear perfectly white. The reflection of light is a subject which has much exercised the reasonings of optical philosophers; principally to account for it. At first it was supposed that the particles actually fall upon and touch the reflecting body, and so rebound from it. But it is now believed, that reflected light does, by no means, come in actual contact with the object which reflects it; but at a given distance, a distance indeed imperceptible to our senses, meets with a power of repulsion, by which it is driven back, altered in its course, but not, I believe, diminished in its velocity. Allowing that a repulsive power is the cause of the reflection of light; why is it that a polished surface reflects so much more powerfully than a rough one? why is it, that while some rays are reflected, others are transmitted or absorbed? and why is it that light is reflected at all?these are questions which have much perplexed philosophers; and into which I cannot presume to enter. (To be concluded in our next.) The discovery of the composition, or what in optics is termed the different refrangibility of light, has produced a total revolution in the philosophy of colour. It is only in accommodation to ordinary conception, and the established modes of speech, that a philosopher says of one thing that it is red, and of another that it is blue; the fact is, that neither blue, nor red, nor yellow, nor any other colour, is in the Answer to a Query on Departed Spirits. objects we view, but in the light;that the exclusion of all light is the exclusion of all colour;-that the rose is red, because it absorbs the rays which are orange, yellow, green, and blue, and reflects the red ray; that the primrose is yellow, because it absorbs the red, orange, blue, and other rays, and reflects the yellow;--and the violet is violet, because it absorbs all but the ray to which it has given name, and which it reflects. It is not meant to be said, that substances which appear of different colours are SIR,-In answer to the Query, (col. Your's, respectfully, I consider the affirmative idea to be neither scriptural nor philosophical; though there are many, who, having lost their godly friends, have rather 989 On Soundness of Mind. 990 been disposed to wish, that their | we behold the fields and meadows, friends might know what is taking covered with a profusion of flowers, place among their connections on and perceive the surface of the earth earth, that they might carry on a kind teeming with vegetation, and, in those of mental converse with them. But beauties of nature, not behold our we little think how new, how strange, Great Creator who formed them; for how absorbing, must the things of the "In fruitful fields his bounty grows, eternal state be, to those entering And runs in every rill; upon them. Is it possible that the Each tinted leaf, and flower that blows, heaven-bound pilgrim, who has been Displays his matchless skill." conducted by the Shepherd of the flock I remain your constant reader, through the valley that lies between, and admirer, who approaches the gate of heaven, and realizes the end of his faith, could be attracted by the trifling scenes on earth? Can the soul present with the Lord, ever look off from him, to converse with those below? No: it is best to suppose, that spirits departed have no concern about the trifles passing here. The soul reaping the sad reward of its unrighteousness, may desire to look out of its burning lake towards the earth again, but its intense pain will not grant permission; whereas, those who die in the Lord rest from their labours; while of all it may be said, as to this world, "Their memory and their sense is gone, MR. EDITOR. SIR,-The monthly "Catalogue of all really British plants, as they come into flower," with which you have favoured us in the present volume of the Imperial Magazine, is highly pleasing to myself, and, I make no doubt, is likewise so to many others. As the year is drawing towards a close, when this article must terminate, I should be greatly obliged if any of your Botanical correspondents would favour us, during the ensuing year, with the Elements or Principles of Botany, through the medium of your Magazine, to which publication I have been a subscriber from its commencement. This pleasing science, which now begins to be cultivated by the youth of both sexes, is well calculated to furnish us with instruction; for how can Sir, Southwell, Aug. 16, 1821. J. H. B. ON SOUNDNESS OF MIND. (Continued from col. 828.) MR. EDITOR. SIR,-The simple act of memory and to differ in man and animals. There perception,does not appear materially would induce us to suppose, that, if are many interesting facts, which these faculties are identical in their nature, the endowments of the latter are more excellent than the former. This supposition is founded on the observation, that many of the organs of sense in some animals, are more susceptible of impression than they are in man; and every one must have noticed their wonderful recollection of tracks which they have traversed. A horse, for instance, having travelled 40 miles on a road, where he had never been before, would, on his second journey, after the lapse of several years, demonstrate by his actions, that he perfectly recollected the former route. In exploring the various phenomena of memory, we meet with two occurrences that have hitherto proved inexplicable: 1st, Many of the transactions of our early years, appear to be wholly obliterated from the recollection; they have never been presented to the mind, as the subject of our thoughts, but after the lapse of several years, they have been accidently revived by our being placed in the situation which originally gave them birth. 2dly, A person in a state of comparative childhood, has been known to learn a language, which, through disuse in mature years, has been forgotten, so that when it has been spoken by others, it has not been understood; yet, during the delirium of fever, &c. | the former and forgotten language has been revived, and spoken with fluency:-but after a restoration to health, no traces of its recollection remained. That man is pre-eminent, in the range of creation, is very evident, and, on a deliberate survey, it will be found, that this pre-eminence arises, in a great measure, from his exclusive possession of the powers of speech, and the use of the hand. Man is capable of transmitting his acquirements to posterity, and of communicating his ideas, for the instruction of his fellow-creatures: but, the acquirements of the brute creation perish with them: they do not enjoy the appropriate organs for communicating instruction. 992 absent; yet, under this acknowledged inability, mankind have framed a language, expressive of these powers, and of their operations. The different terms employed, have originated in the numberless hypotheses which have prevailed on this subject. Language is figurative, etymology and authority are the only two modes to which we can resort for the definite meaning of words. Language is the circulating medium of our thoughts, furnishing the terms which designate the objects of perception. There is no faculty of the human mind of more importance than will or volition. There are voluntary and involuntary actions, both of the body and the mind: in the infant we discern a necessity for mental advancement, before it can direct any of the motions of its body; in this state, volition would be superfluous; voluntary exertions are the result of experience. The will, when not perverted, is generally, if not always, guided by reason. Speech is generally acquired by the ear, and the sound communicated through that again, is imitated by the voice, which is the proper modification of sound in the cavity of the mouth and nostrils. But had man been furnished merely with the powers of speech, without the means of recording either his actions or his reflections, although he might have retained the names of Homer, Virgil, Milton, Newton, &c. &c. he must have remained nearly ignorant of their genius, and he would not have been much the wiser for the improvements which they made. This contrivance, above all other blessings, has transmitted, in the sacred volume, the command-mediately, produce that which has ments of the living God. The anatomy of the hand, has not been so minutely investigated, as to demonstrate the origin of its innumerable actions. The organ of touch resides at the end of the fingers; but no perception, from whatever organ of sense it may be derived, can be communicated to another except through the medium of language. Though the hand is, strictly speaking, the servant of the mind, yet we must admit, that without it we should have been strangers to the cloud-cap'd towers," &c. &c. and to very many of the conveniences which we enjoy. It is probable, that we shall never fully know the nature and operations of our intellectual faculties; or, at least, that we shall not be able to comprehend the manner in which we perceive the objects that surround us; neither shall we be able to explain how we recollect them when they are The direction of the several organs of sense, to the examination of an object, is an act of the mind which is called attention. The soundest mind may be attributed to him who possesses the most enduring control over the organs of sense, in order to examine objects accurately, and thereby to acquire a full and complete perception of them. That memory is the best, which can voluntarily, and im been committed to its custody; and that reflection is the most perfect, which is exclusively occupied with the subject of consideration. The will to act, is governed and directed by reason, the highest of our attainments. The will of man is as free as his experience dictates; and his reason urges to action. Your's, respectfully, LEO. LEDBROOK, Wolverhampton, Septr. 12, 1821, TO REMOVE WARTS. TAKE the nitrate of silver, (lunar caustic) and dipping the end of the caustic in a little water, rub it over these troublesome excrescences, and after a few times using they will disappear. This process is quite simple and harmless. The muriate of amnio 993 Observations on the Author of Waverley. nia (sal ammoniac) is likewise a very useful remedy. These applications have been tried with constant success, during a practice of twenty years. WORDSWORTH. MR. EDITOR. SIR,-In the Imperial Magazine for July, 1821, (col. 598) there is an Essay on the Genius and Writings of Wordsworth; in the course of which, a Sonnet on the Battle of Waterloo is introduced as an admired specimen of his Poetry; the five concluding lines are the following "He only, if such breathe, in strains devout Shall comprehend this victory sublime; And worthily rehearse the hideous ront, Which the blest angels, from their peaceful clime, Beholding, welcom'd with a choral shout." This impious passage I should brand with little less than blasphemy; if such be the pleasures of Wordsworth's supposed heaven, no real Christian would wish to join him there. "Source of all guilt, and all distress, Did the angels of heaven raise a loud choral shout, When they saw that the Frenchmen were all put to rout? And could they rejoice in the midst of such woe? When the demons of war spread their wings on the blast, stay, By wars cruel arm snatch'd for ever away; Instead of applause or delight, they will find No sorrow can enter, no grief, and no pain: and joy, Shall be through all ages their happy employ. CHRISTIANUS. OBSERVATIONS ON THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY. In the annals of literature of the lighter order, I incan novels, perhaps there 994 never has occurred a circumstance so extraordinary as that the author of Waverley should have still remained undiscovered; or that, after such unbounded applause as his works have met with in all quarters, the writer should continue to publish anonymously, instead of avowing his name, and enjoying the fame which his works the conjectures respecting his indivihave acquired him. Many have been duality, but the most general, perhaps too, the best founded opinion, is, that Walter Scott is the author. Mr Constable, the publisher, has stated in company, the sum of money he has paid Mr. Scott, which, from the amount, it can only be inferred as including the price of these popular works. Still, however, a part of that money might have been paid on account of the anonymous writer, and Mr. S. might have been the receiver general. Mr. Scott, too, when Waverley first acquired fame, was passenger in one of the Leith smacks, and expressed his opinion of these works to a person unknown to him, in such terms of approbation, as were somewhat inconsistent with the idea of his being the author of them himself. Besides which, it is very likely, from his wellknown liberality of sentiment, that he may, from some motive or other, have, in the first instance, become the vehicle of their publication. in Scotland, has also been pointed at A Mr. Mc. F. an episcopal bishop, as their author with much appearance of probability, partly from the conspicuous talents he is allowed to possess, but more particularly by having been heard to relate the leading stories, long before they were given to the public. Whoever the eminent man may prove to be, the works are of that character, as to form a prominent feature in the literature of the present age, and the author must be acknowledged a person of most extraordinary talents, with an equal proportion both of modesty and self-denial. It is certainly of rare occurrence, that the same writer should excel, both in prose and poetical composition: many of our best poets have acquired but little fame out of the sphere of poetry; perhaps Goldsmith is the one that succeeded most, in both kinds of composition. Dr. Johnson has written more in the spirit of poetry, in the Rambler and Rasselas, than will be found in the fettered verse of Irene; in proof of which, I will only instance the opening address in his beautiful work of Rasselas, though many other passages might be quoted more apt and striking to justify the preceding observation. 996 rian. The author, too, possesses such dramatic power in the creation, support, and contrast of his characters, that had he chosen the real drama for his work, instead of the imitative form of the novel, there seems every reason to suppose he would only have classed in the rear of Shakspeare. In reading these fine works, one circumstance bears strongly against the common opinion of their being Walter Scott's; namely, that all the poetry interspersed in the text, is any thing but resembling that great poet's works, being entirely of the plaintive "Ye who listen with credulity to the whispers of fancy, and pursue with eagerness the phantoms of hope, who expect that age will perform the promises of youth, and that the deficiencies of the present day will be supplied by the morrow, attend to the history of Rasse-pathetic kind, whereas Mr. Scott's las, Prince of Abissinia!" Here you have a harmony in the words, and an expression so purely poetical, that verse might perhaps shackle, but could scarcely improve the sentence. But if Walter Scott be the real author of the works in question, how much then has he excelled every predecessor who has written in both kinds of composition; it may then, indeed, be said of him, as the great colossus of literature wrote in the epitaph of his friend Goldsmith, "that he has left no species of writing untouched, or unadorned, by his pen," for these works embrace almost every subject and mode of writing. The author of these histories, more properly than novels, is evidently one that is eminently versed in the living and dead languages; Greek and Latin seem as familiar to him as his own tongue, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Gaelic, indeed all the languages of Europe, are not only known to him, but his quotations indicate a perfect acquisition of them; whilst history and science display the lights of a mind beyond measure comprehensive, and refined from the dross, both of pedantry and prejudice. These works will certainly be read and admired, when the poetry of Walter Scott will have become obsolete, and his materials forgotten: they possess the advantage over these poems, of describing events of more recent date, of manners more genuine and authentic, and they abound with many minute circumstances of character,(national, religious, and political,) which, by reflecting the image of the times they describe, render them more amusing in some respects, and more instructive in this particular, than the works of the general histo principal feature and excellence is on the descriptive lyrical style. In making this observation, I do not allude to the introductory quotations at the commencement of each chapter, which are as various as the author's own genius; but to the poetry of the work itself. In fine, whoever the writer may be, no author in that species has excelled him, in exciting interest, in producing effect, or in practising that maxim, of mixing the "utile dulci." ABOUT two miles from Northampton, is the pleasant little village of Weston Favel, which once boasted of three mansion houses, belonging to the families of Ekins, Holman, and Hervey, all of which are gone to decay. In this village lived and died the pious and learned James Hervey, author of the Meditations, and otherworks. He was instructed in the free grammar school at Northampton, where he made great progress in his studies: and, in the year 1731, he became a student of Lincoln College, Oxford, where he took only the degree of Bachelor of Arts, and entered into holy orders. |