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adapted to the other; and that they

BIRTHS IN SEPTEMBER.

may by their counsel contribute to your At Helston, wife of G. Grylls, Esq. of a son, security.

In short, the favorites of fortune are At Chacewater, wife of Mr. T. Heath, of a son. At Camborne, wife of Mr. J. Granvill of a son. like the travellers in an enchanted At Redruth, wife of Mr. H. Grylls, of a son. valley, which contain innumerable At Gwennap, wife of Mr. P. Richards, of a At Camelford, wife of Mr. T. R. Slogatt of a son.

paths, adorned with flowers, and enlivened by the music of the winged choristers, all inviting them to enter; and their friends are the guides who will point out to them those paths in which they may walk with pleasure, and indulge in the delights they offer with safety. If therefore they on whom the sun of prosperity shines, would retain the reputation they may have acquired for prudence and discretion; if they would extend their usefulness and raise their fame in proportion to the increase of their wealth, let them be careful to follow the maxim of the great Roman orator, distinguished alike for his philosophy and his eloquence" Atque etiam in Secundissimus rebus, maxime est utendum consilio amicorum: bisque major etiam, quam ante, tribuenda est auctoritas." TIMOTHEUS.

Penzance, October, 1826.

CANINE SAGACITY. MR. NASH, an eminent brewer in the town of Bedford, taught his dog (a large Newfoundland breed) to go every morning to the post-office, then held at the Swan Inn, for the newspaper. It happened one morning Mr. N. sent for the paper before the usual time of delivery, namely, eight o'clock. Poor Carlo (I believe was his name) not being aware of that circumstance, went about eight as usual, looked up for the paper, and wagged his tail, but would not retire, although frequently requested. In order to get rid of him, the young woman, whose place it was to attend to the letters, folded up the half of an old paper, and gave it the dog; this he would not take; and she was, in order to get him away, compelled to give him some other person's paper, with the envelope, which he very quietly took to his master. This I witnessed, or perhaps should have doubted it.

daughter.

At Bodmin, wife of Mr. Ward, of a daughter.

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At Lostwithiel, J. Baron Esq. to Miss P. Prowse.
At Bodmin, Lieut. Baron, R. N. to Miss Powell.
At St. Austle, Mr. G. Bradhurst to Miss A. M.
At Philleigh, J. M. Kempe Esq. to Miss E.
At St. Marys Church, Mr. J. Rowse, to Miss

Peters.

J. Eddy.

At St Enador. Mr. T. Symmonds, to Miss E.
Langdon.

At Wendron, Mr. T. Bath, to Miss G. Treloar.
At Wendron, Mr. J. Jenkins, to Miss J. Harris.
At Bodmin, Mr. W. Pearce, to Miss Mndge.
At Bodmin, Mr. W. Hawke, to Miss Bawden.
DEATHS IN SEPTEMBER.

At Braze, Mr. P. Richards, Inkeeper, aged 27.
At Penzance, Mrs. Heath, aged 81.
At Liskeard, Mrs. Bone, aged 81.
At Penzance, wife of H. Boase.
At Falmouth, Mr. M. Brougham Printer, aged 38.
IN OCTOBER.

At the Island of Antigua, John James, Esq.
At Rosewarne, Mrs. Harris.

formerly of Marazion.

At Penzance, W. H. Pearce, aged 10.
At Liskeard, Mr. R. Hill, Clothier.
At Liskeard, the wife of Mr. S. Mitchell.
At Bude, Miss Lavas, aged 14.
At Truro, Mr. W. Ferris, suddenly.

At New York, Lieut. T. Turner, R. N. Com-
mander of H M. Packet, Wellington.
At Camelford, the wife of Mr. P. Burt.
At Stratton, Mr. J. Cook, aged 20.
At Feock, Mrs. Nancarrow.
At Penzance, wife of Mr. R. H. Bodilly.
At Redruth, Mrs. E. Manly.
At Redruth, Mr. Matthews, aged 41,
At Cuby, Mr. W. Treffry.
At Penryn, Mr. T. Pawson.
At Penryn, Mrs. Cudlip.

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The Selector.

"WE CULL THE CHOICEST"

No. 12.]

ON THE

DECEMBER, 1826.

PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE.

To the Editor of the Selector,

SIR,

In an enlightened age, as the present may justly be deemed, and under the influence of the numerous salutary means by which Knowledge is disseminated, the beneficial effects resulting to society from its diffusion, become, consequently, the more apparent, and the more appreciated. The claims which the cultivation of Knowledge and science have on society at large, as being the most essentially conducive to its important interests, are thus rendered manifest, and the more entitled to universal regard.

The contemplation of such a subject, and the extensive bearings it discloses, thus unequivocally represents the importance of the acquirement of Knowledge; and this the more especially by the agency of those efficient means which exist, and which place it on the firm basis of popular opinion.

With these facts, which a retrospective view of the progress of Knowledge in society exhibits, the inferences may be justly drawn, that from the nature and constitution of the human mind, Knowledge must necessarily continue to be increased, and with it, all those beneficial consequences, of which it is the efficient cause. The firm basis therefore on which it rests, demonstrates that as the improvement of society has resulted from the dissemination of Knowledge, so, its continued increase must be the consequence of the successive amelioration of the

[Price 3d.

diversified forms under which society exists.

This view of the subject guarantees the most sanguine expectations that can be assumed in its favor, and proves that from its salutary influence, the most felicitous consequences may be anticipated.

A collateral view of this subject having been taken in the pages of the "Selector," it may in connection with the same subject be remarked, that the results therein delineated, are inevitably flowing from the dissemination of Knowledge and science; and that these must be the infallible consequences of its diffusion to society, admit of the clearest demonstration; but, that there are opposed to these innumerable obstacles, which must however eventually yield to the more powerful influences connected with the extension of knowledge in society.

It having been seen what are the consequences that must result from the dissemination of knowledge; and that a considerable portion of society, as at present constituted, exhibits these in a high degree, in the investigation of such a subject as the present, the question naturally arises, what species of Knowledge are the most conducive to the production of the beneficial results herein anticipated? On this head it may be affirmed, that amidst the extensive variety comprehended within the sphere of Knowledge, the different species of Moral Knowledge are to be considered as paramount, and to which all other kinds of Knowledge ought to be subservient. The different species of Moral Knowledge therefore, having a paramount superi

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ority assigned them, it results, that in questions relating to the conservation and amelioration of mankind and society, the phenomena resulting from, and presented by these moral causes, constitute the more immediate sources of enquiry.

In conformity with this, an extensive range of facts afford concurrent testimony; and in an analysis of these, therefore, are to be found the primary causes of what are thus contended for. In pursuing, however, such a course of investigation, the efficient engine for the production of these felicitous consequences, as resulting from the dissemination of Knowledge and science is almost exclusively to be ascribed to the agency of the press, or the art of printing; the following, therefore, is eminently applicable. "Reflection will convince us, that this art alone is possibly the main spring of those great revolutions, which, within the last three centuries, have taken place in the moral system of Europe. The press, by rendering books common, has diffused a more equal share of Knowledge through every class; and by rapidly communicating ideas and discoveries, has produced a more speedy improvement and more universal acquaintance with the arts and sciences. By its means, all those who occupy themselves in literary pursuits, are become a body perpetually assembled, who pursue without intermission the same labours. By printing every writer is become a public orator. in that new species of popular assembly he has lost the advantages of declamation to excite passions, he is amply indemnified by that of having a more select audience, and being able to reason with more temperance, and if the impression he makes be less lively, it is certainly more durable. Since the art of printing was discovered, therefore, single men have been seen to produce by the mere effects of their writings, moral revolutions in whole nations. and have obtained an influence over the minds of men, which has even awed and controuled the authority of the reigning powers."

If

With a full persuasion. therefore, of the importance of the dissemination

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No. 12.

PALESTINE, OR THE HOLY LAND.

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MOUNT TABOR.

(From the Modern Traveller) MOUNT Tabor, having been pitched upon as the scene of the Transfiguration, ranks among the sacred places to which pilgrims repair from Nazareth. It is minutely described by both Pococke and Maundrell.

The road from Nazareth lies for two hours between the hills; it then opens into the plain of Esdraelon. At about two or three furlongs within the plain, and six miles from Nazareth, rises this singular mount, which is almost entirely isolated, its figure representing a half-sphere. "It is" says Pococke, "one of the finest hills I ever beheld, being a rich soil that produces excellent herbage, and is most beautifully adorned with groves and clumps of trees. The ascent is so easy, that we rode up the north side by a winding road. Some authors mention it as near four miles high, others as about two: the latter may be true as to the winding ascent up the hill. The top of it, which is about half a mile long, and near a quarter of a mile broad, is encompassed with a wall, which Josephus built in forty days: there was also a wall along the middle of it, which divided the south part, on which the city stood, from the north part, which is lower, and is called the Meidan, or place, being probably used for exercises when there was a city here, which Josephus mentions by the name of Ataburion. Some of the gates of the city remain: as Bab-el-houah, the gate of the winds, to the east; and Bab-el-kubbe, the arched gate, a small one to the south. Antiochus, king of Syria, took the fortress on the top of the hill. Vespasian also got possession of it; and, after that, Josephus fortified it with strong walls. But what makes it more famous than any thing else, is the common opinion, from the time of St. Jerome, that the Transfiguration of our Saviour was on this mountain. On the east part of the hill are the remains of a strong castle; and within the precinct of it is the grot, in which are

three altars in memory of the three tabernacles which St. Peter proposed to build, and where the Latin fathers always celebrate the day of Transfiguration. It is said, there was a magnificent church built here by St. Helena, which was a chathedral when this town was made a Bishop's see. There was formerly a convent of Benedictine monks here; and, on another part of the hill, a monastery of Basilians, where the Greeks have an altar, and

perform their service on the festival of the Transfiguration. On the side of the hill, they shew a church in a grot, where they say Christ charged his disciples not to tell what things they had seen till he was glorified. Van Egmont and Heyman gives us the following account:-" this mountain is one of the most beautiful I ever saw, with regard to verdure, and the ground universally enamelled with a variety of plants and flowers, except on the south side, where it is not so fully covered with verdure. On this mountain are great numbers of red partridges, and some wild boars; and we were so fortunate as to see the Arabs hunting

them."

The legend which assigns this mount as the scene of the Transfiguration, has neither probability nor antiquity to recommend it, since it cannot be traced further back than Jerome, a most suspicious authority. It appears, indeed, to have been suggested by a critical blunder. We read that our Lord took with him Peter, and James, and John, and brought them up into

an

"* from

"high mountain apart:" which it has been sagely inferred, that the mountain spoken of could be no other than Tabor, the word apart being applied to the position of the mountain. "The conclusion," Maundrell remarks, 66 may possibly be true, but the argument used to prove it, seems incompetent; because the term apart, most likely relates to the withdrawing and retirement of the persons here spoken of, and not the situation of the mountain." Of the justness of the remark, no one can doubt who is conversant with the original, since the

*Matt, xvii. 1. Mark ix. 2.

same expression occurs repeatedly in the evangelical narrative, and in every other instance is understood in the sense of privately, or by themselves. Now for the purpose of retirement, Mount Tabor could hardly have been chosen by our Lord, as there is reason to believe, that it was at that time a fortress of considerable consequence. In every instance in which mention is made of it in history, it is referred to as a military post. It was here Barak encamped with ten thousand men, thirteen hundred years before the Christian era; and it was still an important post, in the reign of Vespasian, Populous as Galilee was, it cannot be imagined that this fertile spot would ever be deserted; and we are told there was a town on the summit. It was atleast a fortified place, and not very likely, therefore, to have afforded a suitable retreat for Peter to build there his three tabernacles. fact that six days before the Transfiguration, our Lord was at Cesarea Philippi, and that after that event, he departed from the neighbourhood, and ". "passed through Galilee" to Capernaum, renders it probable that the mountain to which our Lord retired, was towards the northern confines of the Holy Land. But that it was not Mount Tabor, the reader must, we think, feel satisfied.

The

"From the top of Tabor," says Maundrell, "you have a prospect, which iffor nothing else, will reward you for the labour of ascending it. It is impossible for man's eyes to behold á higher gratification of this nature. On the N. W. you discern at a distance the Mediterranean, and all around, you have the spacious and beautiful plains of Esdraelon and Galilee. Turning a little Southward, you have in view the high mountains of Gilboa, fatal to Saul and his sons. Due East you discover the Sea of Tiberias, distant about one day's journey. A few points to the N. appears that which they call the Mount of the Beatitudes. Not far from this little hill is the City Saphet: it stands upon a very eminent and conspicuous mountain, .capped with snow, a part of the chain of Antilibanus. To the south-west is Carmel, and on the south the hills of Samaria.

During the greater part of Summer Tabor is covered in the morning with thick clouds, which disperse towards mid-day. A strong wind blows the whole of the day, and in the night, dews fall more copious than are usually known in Syria. Burckhardt found in the summer in 1810 a single family. of Greek Christians, refugees from Ezra in the Haoura, who had retired to this remote spot, to avoid paying taxes to the government, and expected to remain unnoticed. They had the first, but he did not expect they would the next year.

19411

SOLITUDE

BY JOHN MALCOLM, ESQ.
(From the Literary Souvenir.)
Spirit of the lonely scene,

Desert shore, and distant sea!
Where man's step hath never been,
Or long hath ceased to be;-
By thy ever saddening shrines
Melancholy's vespers rise,—
There when daylight calm declines,
She greets thine ear with sighs.
On the Pyramids sublime,
Towering o'er a thousand graves,--
Landmarks in the sea of Time,

Long wasted by its waves:
Or the mystic, mouldering cone,

Hooded in the night of eld, Thou hast fixed thine awful throne,

And silent empire held.

Gleaming high on Greenland's coast,

Where the polar star doth gem Mountain pinnacles of frost,

Hoary Winter's diadem,
List'st thou to the rending roar
Of ice upon the seas,

And howl of monsters from the shore
Borne on the midnight breeze!

Or dost thou rather love to dwell
Where the lordly lion roams,
Whose awful voice, a nightly knell,
Peals through Palmyra's domes?
Or where majestic Babel lies

Buried in oblivious gloom,
Whose tower hath crumbled from the skies
Into a desert tomb?

From thy deep and dread repose,

'Midst primeval, starless Night, Didst thou start when God arose

And said-" Let there be light!" Spirit! yet there comes a day

To restore thine ancient reign, When heaven and earth shall pass away. And all be thine again!

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