manners, with which she is most thoroughly acquainted, and which she appears to exhibit in all their varieties, with perfect truth of colouring. To no writer, indeed, are the Irish so much indebted as to Miss Edgeworth, for representing their national character in its proper light. Their less judicious patrons have generally repelled, in a storm of indignation, the obloquy pointed against them; and, wishing to exhibit only the bright side of their character, have thrown before all their faults the cloud of national partiality, and thus magnified them, to the eye of prejudice, by the additional obscurity through which they were viewed. Miss Edgeworth, on the contrary, always appears to take it for granted that the prejudices against her countrymen arise entirely from their being imperfectly known; and without claiming to them any thing like perfection, seems, with an air of the most insinuating candour, to present their virtues and their vices alike undisguised.

Ormond, the hero of this tale, had lost his mother in his infancy, while his father was in India. Sir Ulick O'Shane, Captain Ormond's early friend, had taken the child from the nurse to whose care it was left, and had brought up little Harry at Castle Hermitage with his own son, as his own son. "He had been his darling, literally his spoiled child: nor had this fondness passed away with the prattling playful graces of the child's first years; it had grown with his growth." Sir Ulick, however, though naturally kind, had long been a political schemer. He had shifted with every change of ministry, and engaged in successive plans for his own aggrandisement, till his necessities became as great as his ambition-a passion to which all his other feelings were kept in strict subordination. With all the accommodating versatility of a courtier, he possessed talents and accomplishments which, with more prudence and better principles, might have rendered him eminently respectable, and given him unlimited influence in the political management of the district in which his property lay. In his earlier years he had possessed, in a high degree, the art of insinuating himself into the delicate female heart;

lantry. To go no farther than his legiti mate loves, he had successively won three wives, who had each in their (her) turn loved, and married imprudently for love, at been desperately enamoured. The first he seventeen. The second he admired, and married prudently for ambition at thirty. The third he hated, but married from necessity for money at forty-five. The first wife, Miss Annaly, after ten years' martyrdom of the heart, sunk, childless-a victim, it was said, to love and jealousy. The second wife, Lady Theodosia, struggled stoutly for power, backed by strong and high connexions; having moreover the advantage of being a mother, and mother of an only son an heir," &c.

This son, named Marcus, had been from childhood the companion of Harry Ormond; but their tempers and dispositions were in every respect opposite. Ormond, though hasty and violent, was warm-hearted, frank, and unsuspecting. Marcus was selfish, designing, insolent, and vindictive.

At the opening of the story, we are introduced to a party at Castle Hermitage, of which the principal personages were Lady Annaly and her daughter, relations of Sir Ülick's first wife, since whose death they had never till now visited the baronet, with whose treatment of their relative they had every reason to be displeased. Miss Annaly was a young lady of great beauty and accomplishments; and for these, and still weightier reasons, Sir Ulick was anxious to effect a union between her and his son. One day, during this reconciliation visit, Ormond and Marcus had been engaged to celebrate the birth-day of Mr Cornelius O'Shane, who whimsically styled himself the King of the Black Islands-" next to Sir Ulick, the being upon earth to whom Harry Ormond thought himself most obliged, and to whom he felt himself most attached." While the party at Castle Hermitage were making preparations for dancing, and Sir Ulick was anxiously waiting for the return of his son to lead off with Miss Annaly, they were startled by a bloody figure tapping at the window, and peremptorily demanding the keys of the gate, which Lady O'Shane had caused to be locked. Miss Annaly sat opposite the window at which this figure appeared. "For Heaven's sake, what's the matter?" cried Sir Ulick, on seeing Miss Annaly grow suddenly as pale as death. They rose, and, accompanied by Lady O'Shane, and

her evil genius, Miss Black, followed the direction which the apparition had taken. Several persons approached from a turn in the shrubbery, carryting some one on a hand-barrow. Ormond appeared from the midst of them, and in an agony of remorse exclaimed, "If he dies, I am a murderer." The young men having drank at Mr Cornelius O'Shane's more than was consistent with "the sobriety of reason," were returning from the Black Islands, and afraid of being late, were gallopping hard, when, at a narrow part of the road, they were stopped by some cars. Their impa tience, and the tyrannical temper of Marcus, led to a scuffle, which unhappily terminated in Ormond's pistol going off accidentally, and lodging a ball in the breast of Moriarty Carroll,

one of the drivers.

After much opposition on the part of Lady O'Shane, with whom Ormond had never been a favourite, the wounded man was allowed to remain for the

night in the gardener's lodge. Ormond never quitted his bedside; and his horror and anxiety during that terrible night are very naturally des

cribed.

To his alarmed and inexperienced eyes the danger seemed even greater than it really was, and several times he thought his patient expiring when he was only faint from loss of blood. The moments when Ormond was occupied in assisting him were the least painful. It was when he had nothing left to do, when he had leisure to think, that he was most miserable; then the agony of suspense, and the horror of remorse, were felt, till feeling was exhausted; and he would sit motionless and stupified till he was wakened again from this suspension of thought and sensation by some moan of the poor man, or some delirious startings."

From this racking state of fear and self-condemnation he was somewhat relieved by the sympathy of the wounded man himself.

"Toward morning the wounded man lay easier; and as Ormond was stooping over his bed to see whether he was asleep, Moriarty opened his eyes, and fixing them on Ormond, said, in broken sentences, but soas very distinctly to be heard. Don't be in such trouble about the likes of me I'll do very well, you'll see-and even suppose I wouldn't not a friend I have shall ever prosecute-I'll charge 'em not-so be asy for you're a good heart-and the pistol went off unknownst to you-I'm sure was no malice let that be your comfort It might happen to any man, let alone gen VOL. I.

tleman-Don't take on so--and think of young Mr Harry sitting up the night with me?-Oh! if you'd go now and settle your self yonder on the other bed, sir-I'd be a great dale asier, and I don't doubt but I'd get a taste of sleep myself while now, wid you standing over or forenent me, I can't close an eye for thinking of you, Mr Harry.' Ormond immediately threw himself upon the other bed, that he might relieve Moriar ty from the sight of him. The good nature and generosity of this poor fellow increased Ormond's keen sense of remorse.

As to

sleeping, for him it was impossible; whenever his ideas began to fall into that sort of confusion which precedes sleep, suddenly he felt as if his heart was struck or twinged, and he started with the recollection that some dreadful thing had happened, and wakened to the sense of guilt and all its horrors. Moriarty, now lying perfectly quiet and motionless, and Ormond not hearing that he had breathed his last. A cold trehim breathe, he was struck with the dread

mor came over Ormond," &c.

The agitation of Miss Annaly, on seeing Ormond in so frightful a situa tion the preceding evening, had alarmed the suspicions of Sir Ulick, who determined to have Ormond sent from Castle Hermitage; while he so man aged as to appear willing to retain him at the hazard of even separating from Lady O'Shane, and thus to induce the generous youth to banish himself from the family to prevent such a catas trophe. In this exigency, Ormond naturally turned his thoughts to Cornelius O'Shane, who had always shewn him a statement of all that had hap him particular kindness. He wrote to pened, and received an invitation full of cordiality, mingled with some indignation at this sudden change in his cousin's behaviour. His reception is very characteristic of the primitivemanners and single-hearted generosity of this eccentric monarch of the Black Islands.

"Welcome, Prince, my adopted son; welcome to Corny castle-palace, I would have said, only for the constituted authorities of the post-office, that might take exceptions, and not be sending me my letters right. As I am neither bishop nor arch, I have, in their blind eyes or conceptions, no right-Lord help them!-to a temporal palace. Be that as it may, come you in with me, here into the big room and see! there's the bed in the corner for your first object, my boy, your wounded chap-And I'll visit his wound, and fix it and him the first thing for ye, the minute he comes up.' His Majesty pointed to a bed in the corner of a large apartment, whose beautiful painted ceiling and cornice, and fine chimney-piece 4 M

intrigue, and Irish acuteness, and varieties of resource, Mademoiselle's plan was likely to be defeated, when, to the great satisfaction of all concerned, White Connal broke his neck. Every obstacle seemed now to be removed Corny himself would have been delighted to see his daughter united to Ormond-but White Connal had a brother, to whom, if he was now alive, King Cornelius imagined his unfortunate promise to extend. In consequence of a message from his majesty, the brother, designated Black Connal, Soon appeared in the shape of a dashing officer of the Irish brigade. His French habits and manners were quite delightful to Mademoiselle; and though Dora was at first hurt by his polite indifference, the vanity of making such a conquest,-the, hope of the unrestrained gayety and freedom which her aunt assured her French wives enjoyed, and above all, the confidence with which Connal had the address to inspire her in the sincerity of his affection, induced her at length to consent to the fulfilment of her father's rash promise; and after a considerable struggle between love and vanity, she >was married to this Frenchified cox comb, and set off with her husband and Mademoiselle to Paris.

When the kind-hearted Corny saw that Ormond could not be his son-inlaw and heir, he resolved that he should no longer lose his time in the Black Islands; and though he would have been happy to have kept him while he lived, and had no one now to supply the blank which his absence must -make, he had generously undertaken to procure a commission for him in the army, for which he had already lodged money in the bank. Things are in this train, when this generous monarch is killed by the bursting of a fowling-piece. No death (in fiction) I ever disappointed or vexed us so much as this, particularly as we see no great end which it serves in the narrative. It gives Miss Edgeworth an opportunity, Jindeed, of describing an Irish wake and funeral; but we should have liked better to see King Corny living to a ma>ture old age, enjoying the happiness of seeing his dear prince succeed to an ample fortune, united with the lovely and accomplished Miss Annaly, and finally, succeeding his generous pa-tron in the sovereignty of the Black dIslands. We have not time, though

we are now in the humour, for taking notice of the other faults of this delightful tale. We shall only observe, that Miss Edgeworth, in this tale, comes forward sometimes too ostenta tiously in propria persona as a moral teacher, and seems even willing to institute a comparison to her own advantage between her mode of pourtraying characters, and that of other novelists. Thus, towards the conclusion of the third chapter, she tells us, "Most heroes are born perfect,-so at least their biographers, or rather their panegyrists, would have us believe. Our hero is far from this happy lot; the readers of his story are in no danger of being wearied at first setting out, with the list of his merits and accomplishments, nor will they be awed or discouraged by the exhibition of virtue above the common standard of humanity, beyond the hope of imitation," &c. We can understand the moral of representing her hero's imagination as so heated, by the perusal of Tom Jones, that he was determined to distinguish himself as an accomplished libertine, and of saving him the infamy of ruining a lovely and innocent girl, only by the discovery that she was the lover of his faithful Moriarty. But really Miss Edgeworth's description of the dissipation and gayety of Parisian society would have satisfied us of its temptations without her hero, (whose mind had now been fortified by a strong attachment to a most deserving object,-by the society of a most exemplary and accomplished clergyman, and by a long course of study under that worthy gentleman's direction) being brought to the verge of a criminal intimacy with the married daughter of his generous and beloved benefactor. There are several marvellous incidents too, which violently stagger belief, particularly the sudden appearance of Moriarty Carroll at Paris, at the very moment when it was necessary to save Ormond from ruin. But we forbear to indulge in the

ungrateful task of pointing out blemishes where there is so much to admire. If the extracts which we have given, have produced on our readers the effect which we intended, they will fly with eagerness to the perusal of this tale, which, in the varied and interesting delineation of character, is inferior to none of Miss Edgeworth's productions.

THE scientific world will rejoice to learn, that one of the most philosophical chemists of modern times, Dr Thomas Thomson, has been elected to the chemical chair in the University of Glasgow. His varied knowledge, minute as extensive, his philosophical views, and singular talent for elucidating the most abstract points,-have long marked him out as eminently qualified for a situation like that to which he has been just called. His election, honourable as it is to himself, will, there is little doubt, prove one of the most valuable acts of the learned body to which he now belongs, whether it be regarded with reference to the general interests of physical science, or to the numerous manufactures of Scotland. We most cordially trust, that Dr Thomson will long continue to discharge the duties of his chair, with satisfaction to himself and advantage to society.

We are happy to announce, that Professor Leslie is at present engaged in a series of experiments with some new instruments of his invention, which will throw much new and important light on meteorology.

Sir Humphrey Davy states, that flame is gaseous matter heated so highly as to be luminous, and that to a degree of temper ature beyond the white heat of solid bodies, as is shown by the circumstance, that air not luminous will communicate this degree of heat. When an attempt is made to pass flame 'through a very fine mesh of wire gauze at the common temperature, the gauze cools each portion of the elastic matter that passes through it, so as to reduce its temperature below that degree at which it is luminous, and the diminution of temperature must be proportional to the smallness of the mesh and the mass of the metal.

Dr E. D. Clarke, in a letter to Dr Thomson, says, that in using the gas blow-pipe, two precautions are necessary :-First, as a precaution for his safety, the operator, before igniting the gas, should apply his ear to the apparatus (gently turning the stopcock of the jet at the same time), and listen, to determine, by the bubbling noise of the oil, whether it be actually within the safety cylinder. The oil may be drawn into the reservoir, whenever the piston is used, if the stop-cock below the piston be not kept carefully shut, before the handle is raised. If there have been a partial detonation in the safety cylinder, as sometimes happens when the gas is nearly expended, this precaution is doubly necessary, to ascertain whether the oil have not been driven into the reservoir, when an explosion of the whole apparatus would be extremely probable. Using this precaution, the diameter of the jet may be so enlarged as to equal 1-25th of an inch. Second, if, with this diam

eter, the heat of the flame be not sufficient to melt a platinum wire, whose diameter equals 1-16th of an inch, the operator may be assured his experiments will not be attended with accurate results. The melting of the platinum wire ought to be considered as a necessary trial of the intensity of the heat; which should be such, that this wire not only fuses and falls in drops before the flame, but also exhibits a lively scintillation, resembling the combustion of iron wire exposed to the same temperature." It must," he says, " have appeared very remarkable, that while the reduction of the earths to the metallic state, and particularly of barytes, was so universally admitted by all who witnessed my experiments with the gas blowpipe in Cambridge, the experiments which took place at the Royal Institution for the express purpose of obtaining the same results, totally failed. This will, however, appear less remarkable, when it is now added, that my own experiments began at length to fail also. During the Easter vacation, owing to causes I could not then explain, the intensity of the heat was so much diminished in the flame of the ignited gas, that I was sometimes unable to effect the fusion of platinum wire of the thickness of a common knitting needle. The blame was of course imputed to some supposed impurity, or want of due proportion, in the gaseous mixture; when, to our great amazement, the intensity of the heat was again restored, simply by removing a quantity of oil which had accumulated in the cap of the safety-cylinder, and which had acquired a black colour. About this time Dr.Wollaston arrived in Cambridge, and was present at some experiments, in com pany with the Dean of Carlisle and our professor of chemistry. Dr Wollaston brought with him some pure barytes. It was immediately observed, that with this newly-prepared barytes, there was no possibility of obtaining any metallic appear.

ance.

The barytes deliquesced before the ignited gas, and drops of a liquid caustic matter fell from it. Hence it became evident, that the failure here, and at the Royal Institution, might be attributed to the same cause, namely, the impurity of the barytes, which proved to be, in fact, a hydrate; and its reduction to the metallic state before the ignited gas was thereby rendered impracti❤ cable."

Dr Clarke has lately made the following experiments :

EXPER. I. Corundum.-If, during the fusion of this substance, it be allowed to fall, while hot, upon a deal board, it will become coated over with a film of carbon, exhibiting the highest pseudo-metallic lus