I if possible, when once established. therefore regret extremely, not only the compartment I just mentioned, but another garden immediately beyond it; and I cannot forget the sort of curiosity and surprise that was excited after a short absence, even in me, to whom it was familiar, by the simple and common circumstance of a door that led from the first compartment to the second, and the pleasure I always experienced on entering that inner and more secluded garden. There was nothing, however, in the garden itself to excite any extraordinary sensation: the middle part was merely planted with the lesser fruits, and dwarf trees; but, on the opening of the door, the lofty trees of a fine grove appeared immediately over the opposite wall; the trees are still there, they are more distinctly and openly seen, but the striking impression is gone. On the right was another raised terrace, level with the top of the wall that supported it, and overhung with shrubs, which, from age, had lost their formality. A flight of steps of a plainer kind, with a mere parapet on the sides, led up to this upper terrace underneath the shrubs and exotics. All this gave me emotions in my youth, which I long imagined were merely those of early habit; but I am now convinced that was not all; they also arose from a quick succession of varied objects, of varied forms, tints, lights, and shadows; they arose from the various degrees of intricacy and suspense that were produced by the no less various degrees and kinds of concealment, all exciting and nourishing curiosity, and all distinct in their character from the surrounding landscapes. I will beg my reader's indulgence for going on to trace a few other circumstances which are now no more. These steps, as I mentioned before, led to an upper terrace, and thence, through the little wilderness of exotics, to a summer-house, with a luxuriant Virginia creeper growing over it; this summer-house and the creeper, to my great sorrow at the time, to my regret ever since, to my great surprise at this moment, and, probably to that of my reader-I pulled down, for I was told that it interfered so much with the leveling of the ground, with its flowing line and undulations, in short, with the prevailing system, that it could not stand. Beyond this again, as the last boundary of the garden, was a richly worked iron gate, at the entrance of a solemn grove; and they both, in no small degree, added to each other's effect. This gate, and the summer-house, and most of the objects I have mentioned, combined to enrich the view from the windows, and from the home terrace. What is there now? grass, trees, and shrubs only. Do I feel the same pleasure, the same interest in this ground? Certainly not. Has it now a richer and more painter-like effect as a foreground? I think not by any means; for there were formerly many detached pieces of scenery, which had an air of comfort and seclusion within themselves, and at the same time formed a rich foreground to the near and more distant woods, and to the remote distance. The remark of a French writer may very justly be applied to some of these old gardens:-"L'agréable y étoit souvent sacrifié a l'utile, et en général l'agréable y gagna:" "The agreeable was frequently sacrificed to the useful, and in general the agreeable gained by it." All this, however, was sacrificed to undulation of ground only, for shrubs and verdure were not wanting before. That undulation might have been so mixed in parts with decorations and abruptnesses, that they would have mutually added to each other's charms; but I can now only lament what it is next to impossible to restore, and can only reflect how much more difficult it is to add any of the old decorations to modern improvements, than to soften the old style by blending with it a proper portion of the new. My object (as far as I had any determinate object besides that of being in the fashion) was, I imagine, to restore the ground to what might have been supposed to be its original state; I probably have, in some degree, succeeded, and, after much difficulty, expense, and dirt, I have made it look like many other parts of mine, and of all beautiful grounds, with but little to mark the difference between what is close to the house and what is at a distance from it, between the habitation of man and that of sheep. A GOOD WIFE.-A pleasant, cheerful wife is as a rainbow set in the sky when her husband's mind is tossed with storms and tempests; but a dissatisfied and fretful wife, in the hour of trouble, is like one of those who were appointed to torture lost spirits. A MAGIC IN INDIA. CORRESPONDENT in India tells us that a military friend of his, on returning to England, and finding all astir there about mesmerism, writes to him that he had often had much cause to regret that, during his long residence of more than twenty-eight years in India, he was ignorant of the very name or existence of mesmerism; as he could recall to mind many instances of what he then deemed to be native superstitions, on which he now looked very differently, believing them to be the direct effects of mesmeric influence. These instances are dayly and hourly exhibited in Indian dwellings, though either passing without notice, or ascribed to other causes. Children in India, especially European children, seldom go to sleep without being subjected to some such influence, either by the ayahs or the attendant bearers; and our military friend says, that he has himself repeatedly, in a few seconds, been the means of tranquillizing a fractious, teething child, and throwing it into a profound sleep, by the mere exercise of the will, quite ignorant that he was thus using, though in one of its simplest forms, a power at which he laughed heartily when displayed around him in some of its more hidden ramifications. We give the following in his own words : "I shall now relate a circumstance, proving that the natives of India apply mesmeric power to the removal of diseases with the utmost success. I had in my establishment at Lucknow a chuprassie, who was a martyr to the most deplorable chronic rheumatism. His hands, wrists, knees, and all his joints, were so greatly enlarged, and in a state so painful, that his duties had gradually become merely nominal. One day, he hobbled up, and begged my permission to remain at home for a few days, for the purpose of being cured of his agonizing disease. I said: 'Certainly; get cured of your complaint, and let me see you when you return.' In a very few days, perhaps in four or five, to my great astonishment he returned, smiling and joyous, with his limbs as pliant and supple as my own. "What!' said I, are you come back already? "Yes, sir, by your favor, I am perfectly cured.' "What! entirely cured?' | Zadoo Walees (dealers in magic) from the bazaar, and gave them four pice apiece, (about twopence each,) and they cured me.' "But how-what did they do?' "They put me on a charpace, (a low bed,) and one sat at each side of me, and both passed their hands over my body so, (describing long sleep, and I slept soundly: when I awoke, I was mesmeric passes,) and thus they set me to free from rheumatism, and am now perfectly well." The master made no investigation of the matter; the man was laughed at, and told to return to his duties, which he continued thenceforth to perform with all his former zeal. Now, this was not regarded by the patient or the other servants as a strange thing, for they took it quite as a matter of course; and there is indeed no reason to doubt, that the natives of India frequently have recourse to jhar phoonk, or mesmerism, for the cure of rheumatism; but many interesting things are carefully concealed from the English, because we invariably ridicule or sneer at native customs-a mode of treatment peculiarly distasteful to the inhabitants of the East. But though willing to make use of these mysterious powers in their beneficent and curative forms, there exist all over Hindostan abundant proofs of the dread of "zadoo," or witchcraft, among all classes, Moslems as well as Hindoos, when it appears to threaten them with evil. If a cultivator has transplanted his tobacco or ed earthen cooking-pots, and places a spot other valuable plant, he collects old crackof limestone whiting on the well-blackened bottom of each. They are then fixed on stakes driven into the ground, so that the white spots may be seen by all passers-by. This ingenious process is meant to neutralize the influence of the "evil eye" of the envious. The talismans worn by the natives, said to be always the same, consist of an oblong cylinder, with a couple of rings for a string to pass through to fasten them, and would appear to have been originally impregnated with the electric fluid. Children are invariably provided with such amulets to avert the "evil eye;" and should any one praise their beauty, the parent spits on the ground, and declares them to be perfect frights. The inhabitants of the mountainous regions east of Bengal-the Bhooteeas and others-accuse all those of Bengal of being great sorcerers; and when seized with fever in the low malarious tracts, which they must pass through on descending from the mountains and entering that province, for the purpose of bathing in the holy Ganges, or visiting one of the numerous shrines in the plains, the disease is invariably imputed to the incantations of the Bengalees. "Nor tree, nor plant, Grows here, but what is fed with magic juice, Our military friend gives two other instances in which the effects produced were really and truly mesmeric, though of course ascribed to magic. He vouches for the facts, but leaves every one to form his own opinion : surgeon; but after the lapse of some time, he was sent back, with the intimation that the surgeon could not discover any specific disease, and that he, therefore, could make nothing of his case. On bringing back this information, my friend began to cross-question his servant, who would not at first acknowledge the cause of his disease; but at last, after much persuasion, he candidly avowed to his master, in confidence, that he was laboring under the effect of witchcraft. And do you know,' said my friend, that the fellow actually believed it himself!' And we both laughed most heartily. His master continued his examination, until the kulashee confessed that a certain Brahmin, officiating at a large tank close to the fortress of Bombay, had threatened him with his revenge, and was now actually eating up his liver, by which process he would shortly be destroyed. 'I will tell you what I did: I no sooner got the Brahmin's name, than I ordered my buggy, and quickly drove down to the tank. On reaching it, I inquired for the magician; and on his arrival, I leaped down, seized him by the arm, and horsewhipped him within an inch of his life, now and then roaring out: 'I'll teach you to bewitch my kulashee, you villain!' 'How dare you injure my servant, you rascal? and so forth. In a very few minutes, the liver-eating Brahmin declared that he would instantly release the kulashee from the spell; that on "The wife of one of my grooms, a robust woman, and the mother of a large family, all living within my grounds, was bitten by a poisonous serpent, most probably a cobra, or coluber maja, and quickly felt the deadly effects of its venom. When the woman's powers were rapidly sinking, the servants came to my wife, to request that the civil surgeon of the station might be called in to save her life. He immediately attended, and exerted his utmost skill, but in vain. In the usual time, the woman ap-reaching home, I would find him recovered; and peared to be lifeless, and he therefore left her, acknowledging that he could not be of any further service. On his reaching my bungalow, some of my servants stated, that in the neighborhood a fakir, or wandering mendicant, resided, who could charm away the bites of snakes; and begged, if the doctor had no objection, that they might be permitted to send for him. He answered: Yes, of course; if the poor people would feel any consolation by his coming, they could bring him; but the woman is dead.' "After a considerable lapse of time, the magician arrived, and began his magical incantations. I was not present at the scene, but it occurred in my park, within a couple of hundred yards of my bungalow; and I am quite confident that any attempt to use medicines would have been quite useless, as the woman's powers were utterly exhausted, though her body was still warm. The fakir sat down at her side, and began to wave his arm over her body, at the same time muttering a charm; and he continued this process until she awoke from her insensibility, which was within a quarter of an hour." The last instance we shall give occurred at Bombay. The writer says:— "On visiting Bombay in 1822, I was greatly diverted by a circumstance told to me by an old friend in the artillery there. He stated that he had had a kulashee, or tent-pitcher, in his service for many years; that he was a most faithful and active man; but that he had all of a sudden, and without any visible cause, become very greatly emaciated, feeble and ghastly. His master had sent him to the hospital, to have the benefit of the skill of the regimental ultimately he was perfectly released. And, believe me,' said my friend, laughing, that the fellow mended from that hour, and is now a capital servant.'" That this power, which we call mes merism, was also known to the priests of ancient Egypt, is supposed to be proved by carvings on the temples of priests making the passes with their hands, opposite other figures, to produce the sleep; a circumstance which has been recounted as proving a connection between the ancient religion in Egypt and some unknown faith formerly prevalent in India, at the time the temples of Elephanta, Kennery, and others, were built. We greatly admire the philanthropic Major Ludlow, who devoted his energies to the abolishing of the suttee; but whose labors met with very partial success, until, by searching their own Shasters, he discovered that there was a time at which the rite did not exist. A greater than he, however, must arise before the other still more ancient and wide-spread faith can either be explained or abolished. MONTESQUIEU says: "I never listen to calumnies, because, if they are untrue, I run the risk of being deceived, and, if they be true, of hating persons not worth thinking about. The National Magazine. SEPTEMBER, 1854. the chancel of the church at Stratford, where EDITORIAL NOTES AND GLEANINGS. SALUTATIONS. The parting salutations of various nations are strikingly alike. The vale of the Latins corresponds with the xaipe of the Greeks; and though Deity is not expressed distinctly in either, it was doubtless understood: for who can be kept in health without, as the ancients would say, the will of the gods? The Greek word perhaps has a higher signification than the Latin; for it was not a mere complimentary salutation. Says Macknight: "St. John forbids it to be given to heretical teachers, Eph. ii, 10, 11." The French, on taking leave, say, Adieu," thus distinctly recognizing the providential power of the Creator; and the same meaning is indeed conveyed in our English word "good-by," which is a corruption of "God be with you." The Irish, in their warmth of manner and love of words, often extend the expression. "A well-known guide," says a traveler, "upon my leaving one of the loveliest spots in Wicklow, shook hands with me heartily, and said, in a voice somewhat more tremulous through age than it was when Tom Moore loved to listen to it: God Almighty bless you, be with you, and guide you safely to your journey's end!" This salutation, when used thoughtfully and aright, has not only a pleasant sound, but deep meaning. All courtesies are, indeed, grateful to a generous mind, though they may be but ceremonies. A man or a nation which disregards them shows a want of the best kind of sensibility. Utility is not always "utilitarian;" the finest productions of the human mind are not directly "utilitarian." The Par-osity is that which belonged to the family of adise Lost of Milton has as much to do, perhaps, with English civilization, as the Principia of Newton; but it presents no practical science. Beauty has its uses, the highest uses, however little utilitarian it may seem. So with manners and even with ceremonies, when not ceremonious. The ugliest feature of our republican life is our affected disregard of the forms of polite intercourse; the want of respectful attentions between children and parents, servants and masters, magistrates and people. The little courtesies of life make up half of its reliefs, and in the more intimate relations of friendship, kindred, or love, they make up half its real endearments. Let us not foolishly presume that republican simplicity, much less republican virtue, requires us to abjure them; the finest perfections of art and the most thorough refinements of taste accompanied the ancient democracies. So should the benignest virtues and manners distinguish our Christian republicanism. BURYING-PLACES OF POETS.-Chaucer was buried in the cloisters of Westminster Abbey, without the building, but removed to the south aisle in 1555: Spenser lies near him. Beaumont, Drayton, Cowley, Denham, Dryden, Rowe, Addison, Prior, Congreve, Gay, Johnson, Sheridan, and Campbell, all lie within Westminster Abbey. Shakspeare, as every one knows, was buried in THE MOST CURIOUS BOOK IN THE WORLD.— The London "Notes and Queries" says that perhaps the most singular bibliographic curi the Prince de Ligne, and is now in France. It is entitled, Liber Passionis Domini Nostri Jesu Christi, cum Characteribus Nulla Materia Compositis. This book is neither written nor printed! The whole letters of the text are cut out of each folio upon the finest vellum; and being interleaved with blue paper, is read as easily as the best print. The labor and patience bestowed in its completion must have been excessive, especially when the precision and minuteness of the letters are considered. The general execution, in every respect, is indeed admirable; and the vellum is of the most delicate and costly kind. Rodolphus II. of Germany offered for it, in 1640, eleven thousand ducats, which was probably equal to sixty thousand at this day. The most remarkable circumstance connected with this literary treasure is, that it bears the royal arms of England; but it cannot be traced to have ever been in that country. COLERIDGE'S UNPUBLISHED WORKS.-Every year adds to the fame of Coleridge, as one of the profoundest, if not the profoundest, thinker of modern times. His views on Christianity especially command the deepest interest of religious inquirers. He passed through transitions of opinion, which give them a special importance. His published works are one of the richest magazines of thought in the language: it appears, however, that some of his most important productions have not yet seen the light, and are destined, if ever they do see it, to modify much of that charge of indolence and waste of life and intellect which has been so wantonly brought against him by the critics. In the London "Notes and Queries," some interesting facts have been recently given respecting his unpublished MSS. One writer says: "When I sent you my note on this subject I had not read Letters, Conversations, and Recollections of S. T. Coleridge, Moxon, London, 1836. The subjoined extracts from that work confirm that note: August 8, 1820.- Coleridge: "I at least am as well as I ever am, and my regular employment, in which Mr. Green is weekly my amanuensis, [is] the work on the books of the Old and New Testaments, introduced by the assumptions and postulates required as the preconditions of a fair examination of Christianity as a scheme of doctrines, precepts, and histories, drawn or at least deducible from these books." January, 1821.- Coleridge: "In addition to these of my GREAT WORK, to the preparation of which more than twenty years of my life have been devoted, and on which my hopes of extensive and permanent utility, of fame, in the noblest sense of the word, mainly rest, &c. Of this work, &c., the result must finally be revolution of all that has been called Philosophy or Metaphysics in England and France since the era of the commencing predominance of the mechanical system at the restoration of our second Charles, and with the present fashi ionable views, not only of religion, morals, and politics, but even of the modern physics, and physiology. Of this work, something more than a volume has been dictated by me, so as to exist fit for the press, to my friend and enlightened pupil, Mr. Green; and more than as much again would have been evolved and delivered to paper, but that for the last six or eight months I have been compelled to break off our weekly meeting," &c. Vol. ii, p. 219.-Editor: "The prospectus of these lectures (viz., on Philosophy) is so full of interest, and so well worthy of attention, that I subjoin it; trusting that the Lectures themselves will soon be furnished by, or under the auspices of Mr. Green, the most constant and the most assiduous of his disciples. That gentleman will, I earnestly hope, and doubt not, see, feel the necessity of giving the whole of his great master's views, opinions, and anticipations; not those alone in which he more entirely sympathizes, or those which may have more ready acceptance in the present time. He will not shrink from the great, the sacred duty he has voluntarily undertaken, from any regards of prudence, still less from that most hopeless form of fastidiousness, the wish to conciliate those who are never to be conciliated, inferior minds smarting under a sense of inferiority, and the imputation which they are conscious is just, that but for him they never could have been; that distorted, dwarfed, changed as are all his views and opinions, by passing athwart minds with which they could not assimilate, they are yet almost the only things which give such minds a status in literature." How has Mr. Green discharged the duties of this solemn trust? Has he made any attempt to give publicity to the Logic, the "great work" on Philosophy, the work on the Old and New Testaments, to be called The Assertion of Religion, or the History of Philosophy, all of which are in his custody, and of which the first is, on the testimony of Coleridge himself, a finished work? We know from the Letters, vol. ii, pp. 11, 150, that the Logic is an essay in three parts, viz., the "Canon," the "Criterion," and the "Organon." Of these, the last only can be in any respect identical with the Treatise on Method. There are other works of Coleridge missing; to these we will call attention in a future Note. For the four enumerated above Mr. Green is responsible. He has lately received the homage of the University of Oxford in the shape of a D. C. L.; he can surely afford a fraction of the few years that may still be allotted to him in recreating the fame of, and in discharging his duty to, his great master. ILLUSTRATION OF LONGFELLOW -"GOD'S ACRE."-Longfellow's very beautiful little poem, commencing, "I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls is doubtless familiar to all our readers. It may interest some of them to know, that the " ancient Saxon phrase has not yet become obsolete. A writer in a foreign journal says: "I read the words 'GOTTES ACKER,' when at Basle last autumn, inscribed over the entrance to a modern cemetery, just outside the St. Paul's Gate of that city." In JEWISH FACTS RELATIVE TO THE RESURRECTION." He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken." Psa. xxxiv, 20. The Jews have some remarkable fancies concerning their dead. So well are they persuaded of the resurrection, that the name which they give to a burial-place is, "the house of the living." The body, according to their notion, has a certain indestructible part, called "luz," which is the seed from whence it is to be reproduced. It is described as a bone in shape like an almond, and having its place at the end of the vertebræ. This bone, according to the rabbis, can neither be broken by any force of man, nor consumed by fire, nor dissolved by water; and they tell us that the fact was proved before the emperor Adrian, upon whom they imprecate their usual malediction, "May his bones be broken!" his presence, Rabbi Joshua Ben Chauma produced a "luz." It was ground between two millstones, but came out as whole as it had been put in. They burned it with fire; and it was found incombustible. They cast it in water; and it could not be softened. Lastly, they hammered it on the anvil; and both the anvil and hammer were broken, without affecting the "luz." The rabbinical writers, with their wonted perversion of Scripture, support this silly notion by a verse from the Psalms: "He keepeth all his bones: not one of them is broken." A dew is to descend upon the earth, preparatory to the resurrection, and quicken into life and growth these seeds of the dead. Another curious opinion is, that, wherever their bodies may be buried, it is only in their own promised land that the resurrection can take place; and, therefore, they who are interred in any other part of the world must make their way to Palestine under ground; and this will be an operation of dreadful toil and pain, although clefts and caverns will be opened for them by the Almighty. Whether it arose from this superstition, or from that love for the land of their fathers, which in the Jews is connected with the strongest feelings of faith and hope, certain it is that many have directed their remains to be sent there. "We were fraughted |