infinite variety of aspects. The whole, indeed, constitutes one of the strangest phenomena of the human mind, and calls to recollection the story of the Eastern monarch, who, on dipping his head into the magician's water-pail, fancied he had travelled for years in various nations, although he was only immersed for a single instant. This curious psychological fact, although occurring under somewhat different circumstances, has not escaped the notice of Mr. De Quincey, better known as the English Opium-eater.' The sense of space,' says he, 'and, in the end, the sense of time, were both powerfully affected. Buildings, landscapes, &c. were both exhibited in proportions so vast that the bodily eye is not fitted to receive. Space swelled, and was amplified to an extent of unutterable infinity. This, however, did not disturb me so much as the expansion of time. I sometimes seemed to have lived for seventy or a hundred years in one night; nay, sometimes had feelings representative of a millennium passed in that time, or, however, of a duration beyond the limits of any human experience.' It is more easy to state the fact of this apparent expansion of time in dreams, than to give any theory which will satisfactorily account for it. I believe that, whenever it occurs, the dream has abounded in events and circumstances which, had they occurred in reality, would have required a long period for their accomplishment. For instance, I lately dreamed that I made a voyage to India-remained some days in Calcutta-then took ship for Egypt, where I visited the Cataracts of the Nile and the Pyramids; and, to crown the whole, had the honor of an

interview with Mehemet Ali, Cleopatra, and the Sultan Saladin. All this was the work of a single night, probably of a single hour, or even a few minutes; and yet it appeared to occupy many months."-Macnish's Philosophy of Sleep.

NOTE 27.-PAGE 92.

The beautiful custom, prevailing in England, of decorating the heads of those who have died in infancy and youth with garlands of fresh flowers, as a preparation for burial, is thus touchingly alluded to by Mrs. Hemans:

Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed
A crown for the brow of the early dead!

For this through its leaves hath the white-rose burst,
For this in the woods was the violet nursed.

Though they smile in vain for what once was ours,
They are love's last gifts-bring ye flowers, pale flowers.

NOTE 28.-PAGE 105.

The preceding twenty lines in this Hymn of Praise are, as nearly as possible, a literal rendering, in measured verse, of the one hundred and forty-eighth Psalm.

NOTE 29.-PAGE 110.

Table Rock is a prominent portion of the precipice over which the waters of Niagara once undoubtedly flowed. It is a projection of forty or fifty feet beyond the general line

of the bank, forming a cavity which, being extended underneath the Cataract flowing within a few feet on the same level, forms a lofty and wide area, to which an entrance has been effected by the descent of a stairway. This Rock is one hundred and sixty feet high, its width corresponding very nearly with the distance of its projection. It was formerly of greater magnitude than it now is; a large portion of it, said to be one hundred and sixty feet in length and from thirty to forty feet broad, having fallen in 1818. Smaller fragments fell in 1828 and '29; and the whole mass is expected ere long to give way, as a deep fissure, extending back into the rock, is seen. The view of the Falls from this point is unsurpassed by that from any other, as it presents the whole scene of Niagara to the view at one instant of time, completely filling the field of vision, and giving the full impress of its grandeur and beauty to the mind.

The impressiveness of the scene behind the immense sheet of the principal Cataract, will fully repay for the peril and discomfort attending upon a visit to it. The pendent roof of rock above, the arching waters, and the abyss of foam below, are objects that awaken emotions the sublimity of which is sometimes oppressive, and yet always pleasingly awful.

NOTE 30.-PAGE 115.

ORION, one of the brightest constellations of the southern hemisphere, near the foot of Taurus or the Bull. Chesil, the original Hebrew term, signifies, according to

the ancient Hebrews, that star of the second magnitude which astronomers called the Scorpion's heart. It appears at the beginning of the autumnal equinox, and forebodes frost or cold. Virgil calls it Nimbosus Orion. De Goquet supposes that Chesil, signifying "cold," must have meant the constellation Scorpio, which introduced winter in the days of Job; a supposition most probable, as in the days of that patriarch the constellation Orion rose heliacally in the middle of June, whereas Scorpio did not rise till the end of October.

ARCTURUS is a fixed star of the first magnitude, near the tail of Ursa Major or the Great Bear, between the thighs of Bootes, the constellation Arcto-phylax. It is in the northern hemisphere towards the pole, and rises about the twelfth of September, and sets about the twenty-fourth of May, and has been thought seldom to appear without bringing a storm.

The Pleiades or Seven Stars form a cluster in the neck or shoulder of the constellation Taurus or the Bull, anciently in the tail. This group is situated about 14° westward of the star Aldebaran. The Pleiades marked out the east quarter and the spring season. Job gives them the Hebrew name Chimah, the sweet influences of Chimah, because of the agreeableness of the spring

season.

That the course of the stars influenced the seasons, in the opinion of the ancients, is well known; whence Pliny says (Lib. II. Cap. 39) "Arcturus seldom rises without bringing hail and tempests ;" and (Lib. XVIII.

Cap. 28) "The evils which the heavens send us are of two kinds that is to say, tempests which produce hail, storms, and other like things, which is called Vis Major, and which are caused, as I have often said, by dreadful stars, such as Arcturus, Orion and the Kids." The ancients, however, were mistaken in this notion, for the stars only marked that time of the year when such things might naturally be expected.

It is generally reckoned that only six stars can be distinctly counted in this group (the Pleiades) by common eyes, but that originally they consisted of seven, which every one could easily perceive, and it has therefore been conjectured that one of them has long since disappeared. To this circumstance Ovid, who lived in the time of our Saviour, alludes in these lines :

"Now rise the Pleiades, those nymphs so fair,

Once seven numbered, now but six there are."

In fabulous history it is said that these stars were the seven daughters of Atlas and the nymph Pleione, named Alcione, Merope, Maia, Electra, Tayeta, Sterope, and Celino, who were turned into stars, with their sisters the Hyades, on account of their mutual affection and amiable virtues; and that the star Merope, one of the Atlantides, appears more dim and obscure than the rest, or is altogether extinguished, because, as the poets fancy, she married a mortal, while her sisters married some of the gods or their descendants. Dr. Long, however, declares that he himself had more than once seen seven stars in