PHENOMENON IN NATURAL HISTORY. THE following singular fact in natural history, is recorded in a letter written by Dr. Buchanan to his friend Mr. Brown, in Calcutta. It is dated "Borders of Travancore, 18th of October, 1806." At "Tell H. who gets all my natural history and political remarks, that I write this at the bottom of the lofty mountain called Cape Comorin, whose rocky head seems to overhang its base. The birds which build the pendulous nests, are here numerous. night each of their little habitations is lighted up, as if to see company. The sagacious bird fastens a bit of clay to the top of the nest, and then picks up a fire-fly, and sticks it on the clay, to illuminate the dwelling, which consists of two rooms. Sometimes there are three or four flies, and their blaze of light in the little cell dazzles the eyes of the bats, which often kill the young of these birds." Phi next proceeds to remark, "In the most civilized eras of Greece and Rome, we find it was a favourite amusement with the chief ranks of society: kings, heroes, and unbearded youths, together with queens and stately virgins, alike mingled in this graceful recreation.” Phi, however, will have the goodness to inform my ignorance, as I am not aware of any kings or queens, that mingled together in the dance; for as far as my knowledge goes, I can affirm that for many ages in Rome, males and females were unaccustomed to mingle together in the dance, and such conduct as Phi imputes to the Roman ladies, would immediately have given them the name of prostitutes. In ancient Greece, likewise, the same custom was observed. But even allowing for the sake of argument, that they were accustomed to mingle together in the dance; are they to be our models? men who considered their gods without natural affection, cannibals, adulterers, and murderers! I need not certainly endeavour to prove, that we should not be guided in our conduct No. 38.-Vol, IV. by them. Suppose, however, they had borne the name of Christians; what then? Is one man justifiable in his conduct, merely because another has acted so before him? We have not to do with others, but we are alone amenable to God for our own conduct; and if dancing be justifiable, because Greeks and Romans danced, I scruple not to affirm, that the assassination of Mr. Perceval, and the conspiracy of Cato-street, were proper, because Pausanias killed Philip of Macedon, and because Brutus murdered Julius Cæsar. "If we refer to yet more early ages," says Phi, "still we shall find it to be the happy pastime of nature, and the universal celebration of festivity." This, however, remains to be proved: That it is so now, may be inferred from the conduct of savages, who dance round the fire, that prepares the mangled limbs of their fellow-creatures, for their inhuman repast; here, indeed, it is the happy pastime of nature, and the universal celebration of festivity. All heathens, however, are not defenders of dancing, though many who call themselves CHRISTIANS are its advocates. "It is well known," says Forbes, in his Oriental Memoirs, "that the Asiatics of any respectability, of either sex, never dance themselves. Throughout Hindoostan, the master of a feast sends for the public dancing girls and musicians, to entertain his guests. An Indian of respectability could never consent to his wife dancing in public, nor can they reconcile the English country-dances, to their ideas of female delicacy. I remember an amiable Hindoo at Bombay being taken to a veranda overlooking the assembly room, where a number of ladies and gentlemen were going down a country-dance; on his conductor asking him how he liked the amusement? he replied, Master, I not quite understand this business, but in our caste we say, If we place butter too near the fire, butter will melt.' I have often thought of this Hindoo," continues hc, "when present at some particular waltzing in France and Germany." 6 Phi next brings scripture to his assistance. Before, however, the dancing-master can gain any advantage by his quotation from the Bible, (which, by the bye, ought not to be so prostituted,) it will be necessary for S him to prove, that his dancing is of precisely the same description as that mentioned there, and that he trains up his pupils, merely for the purpose of praising the Lord in the dance. There was a sect that sprang up in Flanders, about the year 1373, who were called dancers, because they adopted this mode of worship, and danced together with such zeal, that they frequently fell down senseless, in consequence of their violent exertions. Don't laugh, Phi, these were the true bio opnews, these were professors of your favourite science. Why do you not follow their example? Believe me, you would then make yourself more famous than you ever will in your present sphere of action. We, however, are not called upon in the gospel to worship in this manner, for the only places in the New Testament, where dancing is mentioned, are Luke xv. 25, where Le Clerc says the word means a choir of singers, and not dancers; and Mark vi. 22, in which case the dance was paid for with the head of a good man, ver. 16 -29. If Phi, however, must dance, I should think it but proper, that he go to Jerusalem once a year, and offer all the sacrifices, &c. which are commanded in the book of Leviticus; in which case, Mr. Editor, I think he may dance occasionally, especially as it is the custom of some in this country. Telamon, he has been letting fly his puny artillery against a foe, that will, it is to be hoped, make ample reprisals to his petty shafts. It is also desirable, that PHI will say no more about ordinary attainments. Speaking, however, of this person who cannot dance, has put me in mind of a story related by some ingenious author. There was, says he, a nation of humpbacked men: On one occasion, while they were at church, a person came in with a straight back, which so moved their feelings of risibility, that neither could the clergyman proceed, nor could his audience pay any attention to him; in short, the story informs us, that they laughed incessantly for some time afterwards. In just such a situation, would a person be in a dancing assembly, who could not dance himself; but no one will say that he merits ridicule, nor will any one say that it is desirable to have a humpback, because this nation laughed at a straight back, a thing that they had never seen before. Phi next advises Mr. W. to become a spectator of one of those private circles, where dancing is the amusement of the evening, i. e. to render himself ridiculous, and to be regarded as a man of very ordinary attainments. For shame, Phi, because you perceive your inferiority in the ground which Mr. W. has chosen, you wish to bring him to your own sphere, and then you would crow, as another cock of the dunghill might. Mr. W. however, shines in a hemisphere far superior to a dancing assembly, for "Tis the mind that makes the man." And though advised to become a SPECTATOR, if he still act as a GUARDIAN, he may ensure a more cordial reception with men of sense, than Phi ever will, notwithstanding his wonderful talent of poetising in prose, fiddling out of tune, or teaching young ladies and gentlemen the very rational accomplishment of dancing. Phi next speaks of the ridiculous figure, which a person makes who cannot dance, where dancing is the amusement of the evening, and tells us a very pretty story about some young gentleman, apparently just escaped from the birch and Propria quæ maribus, who was not more conversant with the Bible than himself, and who reluctantly was obliged to confess his ignorance on the subject, by being dragged into a theological dispute. Poor fellow! "He skulked into a corner," says Phi in his usually elegant style. Our dancing-master, however, is not so wise; he stands forth, and endeavours to puff off his erudition; and, if I mistake not, he will some day meet with such a drub-made the business of life the study of bing, as will make him hold his peace. He thought, I suppose, that under his classical mask, he should pass without recognition from any one; and, like little Teucer in the Iliad, who got behind the shield of After this, Phi brings out one of those pretty little pieces of oratory, so characteristic of one, who had an amusement. The sentence bears considerable resemblance to my ideas of Robinson Crusoe's boat, when it had become old, i. e. awkward, crazy, and rotten. He, (Mr. W.) will find," says Phi, "every countenance 66 cheerful." A great recommendation truly! So he will at the alehouse; who so cheerful as men sitting with pots and pipes, drinking destruction to themselves, and calling down the vengeance of heaven on each other? But is this any recommendation of their conduct? "He will see," continues Phi, "every eye sparkling with gladness, and every cheek dimpled with a smile, he will behold the perfection of personal proportion, his attention will be arrested, (to consider very probably the folly and wickedness of thus spending time,) his heart will be softened, and, with a pleasure communicated by sympathy, he cannot but acknowledge, that dancing is one of the most innocent and rational, as well as the most elegant amusements of youth." Mr. W. however, sees and endeavours to prevent the follies of his fellow-creatures. Is he then hard-hearted? With a pleasure communicated by sympathy, he cannot but acknowledge, that dancing is innocent and rational! most innocent! superlatively rational! The whole sentence, however, is somewhat past the comprehension of my poor brain. It certainly is not an agreeable thing to retract a positive assertion, and how sympathy can render this so delightful, I am at a loss to ascertain: "he cannot but acknowledge," says Phi. Our dancing-master is quite wonderful in all his operations. I am highly honoured by such an antagonist. Mr. W. termed dancing a little while ago, a cursed system, and, if my memory do not fail me, expressed a preference to have his child maimed, rather than she should practise it. These are somewhat decided expressions; yet notwithstanding all this, Phi engages in a single evening, not only that he shall retract his sentiments, but that he shall be compelled, (mark the expression,) compelled to acknowledge that dancing is innocent, most innocent, and most RATIONAL. And what would compel him? Oh, Phi will tell you directly. The cheerfulness of countenances, the sparkling of eyes, the dimples of faces, the hilarity of steps, the perfection of proportion, the arrest of his attention, the softening of his heart, and the communication of pleasure. What a hodge-podge! Go on, Phi. Munchausen was but a bungler to you. Mr. Burchell, however, was so hard-hearted, as, during the reading of the whole of this paragraph, though I exhausted my best tones upon it, to cry, Fudge.-If Mr. W. however, allows the innocency and rationality of dancing, it is more than I shall. As to its innocence, I will speak in the sequel. Where, however, is its rationality? Does it regulate the desires? Does it strengthen the judgment? Does it assist the understanding? Does it enlighten the mind? Does it afford useful information? Does it amend the heart? No, but it imparts vigour and strength to the bodily organs. Fudge.-It constitutes a very prominent feature in domestic happiness. Fudge.-We are authorized to practise it, because the Romans and Greeks practised it. Fudge.-It is sanctioned by the scriptures. Fudge. -It may, notwithstanding be rational enough for Phi, for "skulls that cannot teach and will not learn," may be said to be beyond cure; and as Phi's head has all the appearances connected with such circumstances, he may be judicious, to make his heels serve his turn as much as possible. Phi closes his exquisite performance by a quotation from Dr. Watts, with whom I must beg to differ in two or three particulars. Once he conceived himself a teapot. This idea was certainly not correct; and an error of equal magnitude, in my opinion, is, that dancing is profitable to many good purposes. (To be concluded in our next. ) MR. EDITOR. POETRY. SIR,-Should you deem the following encomiums on the happy invention of Writing, and on the invaluable art of Printing,suitable for the poetical department of your Magazine, I shall is from the pen of a lady, and transcribed from be glad in seeing them inserted. The former a valuable work now before me; the latter from Ralph's Collection of Miscellaneous Poems. I am, Sir, your's, respectfully, D. P** E. London, 1st January, 1822. ENCOMIUM ON THE INVENTION OF WRITING. BLEST be the man! his memory at least, Who found the art thus to unfold his breast, And taught succeeding times an easy way, Their secret thoughts by letters to convey, To baffle absence, and secure delight, Which till that time was limited to sight. LONG had mankind with darkness been oppress'd, And scarce one patriarch nine whole centuries bless'd; The conquer'd world, and e'en imperial Rome, O'erwhelm'd in ignorance, shar'd an equal doom; Vandals and Monks, inflam'd with impious rage, When some kind pow'r, (who now propitious smiles, With sweet indulgence o'er BRITANNIA'S isles,) Expell'd around the gloomy Gothic night, Inspir'd by him, first, FAUST'S sagacious mind name In spite of Harlem's or of Strasburg's claim. Thence was the art translated to our coast, Improv'd by various hands in ev'er stage, First by his care, behold learn'd Greece arise And joys uncommon ev'ry mortal cheer. more did HORACE, bard of sprightly fire Hail, Printing,hail, thou thrice illustrious art, Which clear'd the head, and which reform'd the heart, Bless'd with new light a superstitions age, But see, ye learn'd, from far a genial ray, O! would indulgent heav'n by this restore To Eastern lands the arts they lost before, By this make Turks their native rage forego, And the vile frauds of MECCA's prophet shew, While Asia's realms enjoy a milder doom, While Greece its Athens boasts, and Thrace a second Rome,t O'er distant worlds while truth and freedom shine, And conscious nations bless the art divine! * Constantinople. + Constantinople was anciently called New Rome. SONNET. Mark'd ye the ruins that old Time has made As he has run his round?-for splendid towers Where oft dwelt haughty monarchs, now are laid Low as the marble tomb where darkness lowers, Enclosing men who liv'd, and once were young; But Time has chang'd them; now they lie among Their fathers, crumbling in their mother earth :-- Yes, not an object that here has its birth, But feels his pow'r, and all must own his sway: And though his hours are misemploy'd, they're gone, And still will go, and nothing stay their flight; Night follows day, and day succeeds to night, And thus the round is run, till years roll on : Primeval Twilight! infant ray! The weary trav'ler waits thy dawn Like thee, Twilight. The sturdy peasant now awakes, The bounding lion seeks his cave, Tender Twilight. The clarion voice of chanticleer, Now vibrates on the slumb'ring ear, When angels mission'd from on bigh The sun had sunk beneath the plain, Thy sacred beam scarce ting'd the gloom, But, lo! the solid rock was rent, While oceans roll and rivers run, White-Abbey, Jan. 27th, 1822. ON A STARLIGHT NIGHT.-BY JOHN GORTON. WHAT are those glittering gems of light That shoot their radiance through the night, Filling the poet's raptur'd eye With holy confidence and joy, As he their countless numbers views, So vast, so bright, a company? Whence are their beauties, whence their laws? And what their first projecting cause? |