willingly accepted a call which led him to more important, though more dangerous-alas! I may now say, so fatal labors. What he was in India, why should I describe? You saw him you bear testimony. He has already received, in a sister presidency, the encomiums of those from whom praise is most valuable. What sentiments were entertained of him in this metropolis of India, your presence testifies; and I feel authorized to say, that if the noble person (Lord Amherst) had been unfettered by usage, if he had consulted only his own inclinations, and his regard for the bishop, he would have been the foremost, upon this occasion, to manifest his participation in the feelings which are common to us all. When a stamp has been thus given to his character, it may seem only to be disturbing the impression, to renew, in any manner, your view of it: yet, if you will grant me your patience for a few moments, I shall have a melancholy pleasure in pointing out some features of it, which appear to me to have been the most remarkable. "The first which I would notice, was that cheerfulness and alacrity of spirit, which, though it may seem to be a common quality, is, in some circumstances, of rare value. To this large assemblage, I fear I might appeal in vain, if I were to ask that He should step forward, who had never felt his spirit sink when he thought of his native home, and felt that a portion of his heart was in a distant land; who had never been irritated by the annoyance, or embittered by the disappointment, of India. I feel shame to say, that I am not the man who could answer the appeal. The bishop was the only one, whom I have ever known, who was entirely master of these feelings. Disappointment and annoyances came to him, as they come to all; but he met and overcame them with a smile; and when he has known a different effect produced on others, it was his usual wish, that they were but as happy as himself.' "Connected with this alacrity of spirit, and in some degree springing out of it, was his activity. I apprehend that few persons, civil or military, have undergone as much labor, traversed as much country, seen and regulated so much as he had done in the small portion of time which had elapsed since he entered on his office; and if death had not broken his career, his friends know that he contemplated no relaxation of exertions. But this was not a mere restless activity, or result of temperament: it was united with a fervent zeal, not fiery nor over ostentatious, but steady and composed; which none could appreciate but those who intimately knew him. I was struck myself, upon the renewal of our acquaintance, by nothing so much as the observation, that though he talked with animation on all subjects, there was nothing upon which his intellect was bent, no prospect upon which his imagination dwelt, no thoughts which occupied habitually his vacant moments, but the furtherance of that great design of which he had been made the principal instrument in this country. "Of the same unobtrusive character was the piety which filled his heart; it is seldom that of so much, there is so little ostentation. All here knew his good natured and unpretending manner but I have seen unequivocal testimonies, both before and since his death, that under that cheerful and gay aspect there were feelings of serious and unremitting devotion, of perfect resignation, of tender kindness for all mankind, which would have done honor to a saint. When to these qualities you add his desire to conciliate, which had every where won all hearts—his amiable demeanor, which invited a friendship that was confirmed by the innocence and purity of his manners, which bore the most scrutinizing and severe examination— you will readily admit, that there was in him a rare assemblage of all that deserves esteem and admiration." The meeting then came to the resolution of erecting a monument by sub scription, in the cathedral of Calcutta, to the memory of the late bishop, and that what surplus should remain after defraying the expense, should be applied to the foundation of an additional scholarship in the bishop's college. The committee were also empowered to appropriate a portion of the subscription to the purchase of a piece of plate, to be preserved in the family of Bishop Heber. At Bombay, it was resolved to raise a fund for the endowment of one or more scholarships in the college. And at Madras, it was resolved to erect a monument to the bishop's memory in St. George's church. In England the death of Bishop Heber was scarcely less keenly felt than in the East. Special meetings of different societies were held, when various resolutions were passed expressing their deep sense of the loss they had sustained. We shall conclude this imperfect sketch of a life which deserves a very ample and minute narrative, with a poetical effusion by Bishop Heber. Happiness. One morning in the month of May Can God, I thought, the just, the great, Tell me, ye woods, ye smiling plains, In which of Nature's wide domains The birds wild caroll'd over head, I question'd Love, whose early ray His light was dimm'd by tears. I questioned Friendship: friendship sigh'd, I ask'd if Vice could bliss bestow ? I sought of Feeling, if her skill Could soothe the wounded breast; I question'd Virtue: virtue sighed, I question'd Death-the grisly shade Relax'd his brow severe- SPANISH FABLE. The wit of the following fable, though not broad, appears to us keen and cutting; it is evidently directed against those who THE SCRUPULOUS CATS, OR THE CASE OF CONSCIENCE. It was eleven o'clock, or more, A little visit went to pay Fah," answered Selim, "cursed food." But grumbling still, they still ate on, Do you not know the smith received Gave up the project, and in fact Could he have tempted them to touch, SCIENTIFIC MISCELLANY. "Serene Philosophy! She springs aloft, with elevated pride, BEAUTY OF FLOWERS. It is a notion of many, says Miss Kent, in a pretty paper in Loudon's "Magazine of Natural History," and one that I the better understand, from having once partaken of it,-that the study of botany detracts from our pleasure in the beauty of flowers. There is in flowers something of a poetic character, pleasurable and imaginative, which we fear to destroy by associations so mechanical as classes, orders, genera, petals, stamens, &c. The fear is groundless-we should rather look upon these systematic niceties as a foreign grammar, which opens new stores of poetry hitherto unintelligible to us. The mystery that lies in the heart and first cause of every thing still remains the same-let us know as much as we can. The beauty of flowers does not lie wholly in their vivid colors and bright contrasts. The starry capsule of the corn-poppy, when its ephemeral petals have been carried away by winds, is still beautiful; the common bluebottle of the cornfield (centaurea cyanus) wears a bright coronet of skyblue florets, every floret a fairy vase, in which nature has stored up sweet nectar for the butterfly and the bees, and when these have disappeared, there is beauty also in the winged children which they have left, rocking each in its green cradle. In some of the species these winged offspring are peculiarly beautiful. They seem like fairies' shuttle-cocks, elegantly variegat ed at the base, and set with the most delicate feathers of a jet black, but so delicate as to show no bigger than hairs to the unassisted eye. VOLCANO IN THE MOON. Captain Rater observed in the moon a luminous spot, which he designates a volcanic appearance rather than a volcano, with a proper degree of scientific doubt upon a subject so incapable of proof. The luminous spot appeared in the dark part of the orb, and in the centre would blaze brightly for a few seconds and instantly become duller again. It appears to us equally probable that the phenomenon in question might be caused by the conflagration of a lunar forest (if they have forests in the moon) as by a volcano. SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION. In the examination of human bodies after death, nothing is more common than to find the body charged with inflammable gases, whence the insufferable odor that exhales from it. That so great a quantity of these gases might accumulate, so as to support combustion, is, perhaps, not impossible; but it is to be remembered that they are the result of decomposition, and that such decomposition cannot take place to any extent in the living fibre. When animal matter runs to decay, it parts with many of the laws which vitality imposed upon it, and enters under the dominion of others; but chemists, who in general are in different physiologists, have neglected these facts, and have thus been the means of introducing into medicine much that is erroneous both in theory and practice. Mr. Macnish, in his clever little work on Drunkenness, mentions several cases of spontaneous combustion, all of them more or less doubtful, at least in the details, though it would certainly be carrying scepticism too far to doubt of the occurrence altogether. DIAMONDS AND PEBBLES. It being familiarly known that the diamond cuts glass, many imagine that a crystal of quartz (rock crystal), or a pebble (chalcedony), which are hard enough to scratch glass, must be diamonds, or something approaching them. This is not to be wondered at, when it is considered how few have seen rough diamonds, or have ever reflected on the vast difference between scratching glass and cutting it. The diamond cuts it so that it breaks in the line frequently under the very act; other mineral substances merely scratch it. The diamond also weighs at least twothirds heavier than any pebble, and it cannot be worn down like pebbles by a file, emery, nor even by the lapidary's wheel. MUSICAL ANIMALS. The fabled feats of Orpheus are not, perhaps, so wondrous as they at first appear. Certain notes, for example, sounded on a flute or other wind instrument, will cause a dog to set up a lamentable howl, evidently from the pain it produces, either in the ear itself, or the nerves connected with it. The war-horse seems to derive new life and vigor from the sound of the drum and trumpet; and at the Circus, the horses will not pace regularly without music. Outrageous bulls have likewise, in several instances, been calmed into gentleness by music. Of this musical feeling in oxen, Mr. Southey gives a singular instance in his letters from Spain. The carts of Corunna make so loud and disagreeable a creaking with their wheels, from the want of oil, that the Governor once issued an order to have them greased; but it was speedily revoked, on the petition of the carters, who stated that the oxen liked the sound, and would not draw without its music. Even fish, upon good authority, independent of Amphion and the dolphin, and of the old harper, who, as the ballad has it, " harp'd a fish out o' the salt water,”- -are said to have showed signs of being affected by music; and seals crowded to hear a violin, as we are told by Mr. Laing, in his voyage to Spitzbergen. Scoresby, junior, also tells us that music, particularly a person whistling, draws them to the surface, and induces them to stretch their necks to the utmost extent so as to prove a snare, by bringing them within reach of the shooter. "Gaudebant carmine phocæ," says Valerius Flaccus; which Sir Walter Scott translates: "Rude Heiskar's seals through surges dark, Will long pursue the minstrel's bark." ROOTS ACCOMMODATE THEMSELVES It is a fact well ascertained, that roots are materially determined in their form by the nature of the soil in which they grow, and the different nature and character of the plants or trees. Their development is most luxuriant in ground that is neither too loose nor too dense. In stiff and poor soils, they are spare and scraggy; whereas, in such as are at once deep and loose, the minutest fibres both expand and elongate with facility, and render the mouths that search for food to the plant almost innumerable, (Du Hamel, "Physiques des Arbres," i., 82.) This is remarkably exemplified in the beach and the sycamore, and still more in the ash, of which the fibrous roots sometimes amount to millions. Such soils, accordingly, furnish the best rooting ground, and are always favorites with the planter. To fit trees for removal to situations of great exposure, the roots may, by artificial methods, be multiplied to a degree far beyond what can be accomplished by unassisted nature; and thus, by art discreetly employed, the business of the metal, which falling all around, vegetation, that is, the circulation of occasion great danger to those who the sap, is prevented from standing approach the building. still, during the extreme violence which transplanting, in its best form, must inflict. ZINC ROOFS. Roofs covered with malleable zinc are very numerous in the Low Countries, but have one bad quality which is against them. In cases of fire, the zinc being very combustible, causes the dispersion of inflamed portions of GARDENERS. In Germany, and other northern states, it is customary for those who devote themselves to gardening to serve an apprenticeship of three years in a royal garden. After that period is completed, they receive an indenture, elegantly written on parchment, with the head-gardener's name, or sign and seal attached. THE FORSAKEN HEARTH. BY MRS. HEMANS. "And still the green is bright with flowers; And proudly feeling they are fair, But where is the tiny hunter-rout, That revelled on with dance and shout, Against their airy prey ?"-WILSON. THE Hearth, the Hearth is desolate-the fire is quenched and gone, But scattered are those pleasant smiles afar by mount and shore, The voices that have mingled here now speak another tongue, But are they speaking, singing yet, as in their days of glee? Oh! some are hushed, and some are changed-and never shall one strain And of the hearts that here were linked by long-remembered years, One haply revels at the feast, while one may droop alone; For broken is the household chain-the bright fire quenched and gone! Not so!-'tis not a broken chain-thy memory binds them still, The father's voice-the mother's prayer-though called from earth away— Though the loved Hearth be desolate, the bright fire quenched and gone. |