are equally misled by fancy; or that, in studying different languages, a man may not, at the same time, and with at least equal fervour, attend to the thought as well as to the expression of an author. In fact, no sensible person ever thought of separating the two objects. But besides their utility in invigor ating the understanding, ancient and foreign languages ought likewise to be studied. Inasmuch as they facilitate the attainment of our own tongue. In glancing at this part of the subject, I do not mean to insist upon the advantages of etymological researches, in opposition to usage and the practice of the best models of English style. With respect to their mutual influence upon composition, the former must undoubtedly be ranked infinitely be low the latter. But I believe it will be admitted by the most inveterate enemy of such inquiries, that by tracing words to their originals, and by viewing them in all different varieties of acceptation in which they have been successively received, a much greater insight into the principles of our vernacular speech will be obtained, than could have been expected from any other source. Another advantage to be derived from acquisitions of this nature arises from the intimate connexion subsisting between the literature of other countries and the literature of this. They are, indeed, so interwoven with each other, that there is scarcely one celebrated work in the English language whose pages do not teem with allusions to ancient and foreign writ ers. Their very phraseology is often introduced; sometimes for its beauty -sometimes for arguments connected with it. If unconversant with the originals from whom quotations are thus frequently introduced, we must, therefore, be content to remain ignorant of many passages in our own writ ers, and, consequently, a great portion of our pleasure and our profit must be lost. Conversation, too,-at least that kind of it which ought most highly to be prized-the conversation of the knowing and informed,-turns so frequently upon books, and upon topics to which books relate, that without a tolerable knowledge of other languages besides our own, or unless endowed with very extraordinary powers indeed, we must either be debarred from the enjoyment of the benefits of cultivated society altogether, or be compelled to listen to that which we do not understand, and which can only mortify our feelings by impressing us with a sense of our own inferiority. But independently of advantages thus extensive and adventitious, ancient and foreign languages will be found to be well entitled to attention, from the pleasure and instruction which they themselves are capable of affording. It is to these languages that we are to look for some of the best writers that the world has ever produc ed. In poetry, in oratory, and in some branches of philosophy, they have never been surpassed. Shall we then deliberately relinquish the possession of such intellectual treasures, merely because we cannot undergo the toil of rendering them accessible? Translations will not answer the purpose, "Let any man," says the writer whom I formerly quoted, "read a translation of Cicero and Livy, and then study the original in his own tongue, and he shall find himself not only more delighted with the manner, but also more fully instructed in the matter.' "I never could bear to read a translation of Cicero," says Burke, in a letter to Sir William Jones. "Demosthenes," continues the same writer, "suffers, I think, somewhat less; but he suffers greatly-so much that no English reader could well conceive from whence he had acquired the reputation of the first of orators." "I once intended," says Dugald Stewart, in reference to some extracts from Bacon, which he had inserted in the original Latin-" I once intended to have translated them; but found myself quite unable to preserve the weighty and authoritative tone of the original." In the enumeration just exhibited, it will be observed, I have not included the advantages to be derived from the study of the dead languages, by persons who wish to be of the learned professions, and from that of the liv ing ones, by those whose inclination, or whose way of life, renders it necessary to travel into foreign parts. this branch of the subject indeed, it were useless to enlarge; for to persons of this description, such philological studies must be considered not as a mere matter of choice, but as absolutely necessary. On REMARKS ON THE STUDY OF SOME BRANCHES OF NATURAL HISTORY. THERE is not any branch of Natural History which has been more sparingly illustrated, in a popular manner, than the science of Entomology; though it may safely be averred, that few of its departments present a more extensive field of observation, or are more capable of exciting astonishment and admiration in the minds of its votaries. In truth, Entomology, as a science, so far from having kept pace with the advancements in other branches of natural knowledge, may be said rather to have retrograded during the labours of the existing genera tion. That the description of external character, and the determination of species, has been carried to a great degree of excellence cannot be denied; but that a corresponding neglect of the habits, the instincts, and the wonderful economy of insects, has taken place, must also unfortunately be admitted. That systematic arrangement is necessary in natural history, as in all other branches of human knowledge, is a fact too obvious to stand in need of illustration, and is perhaps sufficiently proved by the circumstance of Buffon-one of the most accomplished men, and the most brilliant writer whom natural history has enlisted beneath her banners-having failed to induce the prevalence of a contrary opinion, notwithstanding every effort of his powerful genius. The want of fixed and determinate principles in the arrangement of Buffon, was indeed "the very head and front of his offending," and it is well for science that his example has not been followed. The human mind, however, as has been often remarked, is at all times apt to indulge in extremes, and within thirty years from the death of that philosopher, who affected to disdain the trammels of system, we have seen a cloud of men arise, some of them not undistinguished in the annals of science, who have devoted themselves industriously, and almost exclusively, in raising up and tumbling down one system of classification after another, without relation to any consequent object of deeper interest or greater importance, like children tracking out the plans and the boundaries of temVOL. I. ples and of cities upon the sand by the sea-shore.* I believe it will be acknowledged, on reflection, as well by the uninitiated as the learned, that a comparatively imperfect knowledge of those minuter parts of animals which distinguish and characterise the species, if united with a zeal for acquiring an intimate acquaintance with their instinctive habits, their uses in the creation, their relations to each other as members of one great family, and their beautiful adaptation to the soils and to the climates in which they exist, is of greater value than an exclusive knowledge, however perfect it may be, of those corporeal differences or affinities, by which the various species, families, or classes of animals, may be either separated or combined. If, therefore, it be true, that of two evils we should choose the less, I would not hesitate to say, that it would be far more advisable that naturalists should follow the loose and desultory method of Buffon, and others of his school, than by an entire subjection and devotion to all the minutiae of systematic detail, to neglect whatever is great and beautiful in the science, and thereby forfeit all claim to the praises of mankind, as agents in the extension of the most admirable species of human knowledge. The conduct of such men is in fact incapable of vindication, in as far as the perversion of talent, and the neglect of profiting by those facilities which the nature of their studies afford them, are incapable of being vindicated. Such a mode of prosecuting scientific research, if it deserve such an appellation, evidently lessens, not only the degree of interest which natural history is calculated to excite, but by confining this pleasure, limited though it be, to the understanding of those only *I have much pleasure in mentioning one work, which certainly forms an exception to the general rule. I allude to the "Introduction to Entomology," by Kirby and Spence, in which many singular facts, judiciously arranged, are collected from the writings of ancient and modern authors, which illustrate well some singular particulars in the history of Insects. I would also recommend, as worthy of perusal, an elegant "Essay on the Philosophy of Natural History," by Fothergill, published a few years ago, which contains some pleasing and enlightened views of the subject. 4 D who have made the science the professed object of their study, it greatly diminishes the extent and magnitude of its influence, and, consequently, the importance of the science itself. For, it may be asked, what interest can an individual, in pursuit of general information, be supposed to take in reading a mere catalogue of proper names, or in poring over an everlasting series of minute descriptions, from which he may be led to believe, that natural history resolves itself into a determination of shades of colour, or the three material qualities of length, breadth, and thickness; and that animals do not differ from each other, except in the shape or structure of their bodies, the organization of their limbs, or the nature of their joints, claws, teeth, and articulations? Such, however, would be the natural conclusion of most men, on perusing the works of the worthy system-makers of the present day. A rage for classification has overpowered every feeling connected with the nobility of true science, and the talents of men, naturally acute, having been diverted into an improper channel, there has been, as might naturally be expected, a declension in intellectual power, in proportion to the decrease in the dignity of the objects by which that power is, either exercised or evolved. after genus, order after order, and class after class, till he has almost exhausted the arcana of nature; and then, as it were, satiated for a time by the brilliancy of his discoveries, and desirous to benefit humanity, he brings forth as the offspring of his intellectual fruition, not an elucidation of the manners of animals, or a description of their forms, as immediately and admirably connected with their peculiar propensities and modes of life, but a most elaborate catalogue of their names and designations, compounded of demi-Greek and barbarous Latin, which can have no other effect than that of confounding the intellects of the boys of Eaton or Harrow, or other seminaries intended for promulgating a knowledge of the ancient tongues. Having rested for a time, anon the potent and irresistible spirit of classification descends upon him. New lights have pierced through the darkness which overshadowed him, and again the species, the genera, the orders, and the classes, are summoned before the dread tribunal, to undergo another and a stricter scrutiny. Spots, specks, dimples, and dilatations, and even entire scales and hairs are discovered, of which no one had, at any former period, ever imagined the existence. Of course, a revolution in great part of the system of nature is What would be thought of the man the necessary consequence. The trumwho would labour for years in acquir- pet of alarm is sounded-the system is ing a perfect knowledge of a difficult called upon to make its appearance language, and after having attained it is weighed in the balance and found the object of his wishes, instead of en- wanting--and is consequently levelled deavouring to reap the good fruit of with the dust, presenting to mankind his perseverance and industry, would a mournful picture of the instability immediately renounce all communica-of all human wisdom. Thus, then, is tion with men who spoke that language, and forswear the books in which it was written? Would he not be generally considered as an unmeaning enthusiast, a waster of intellect, an idler in perseverance, or, perhaps, like the "Learned Pig," as acting merely from the impulse of a certain species of literary instinct, which he was incapable of modifying or rendering subservient to the dictates of reason? So it is with the man of science, who rests satisfied, not with collecting facts illustrative of particular traits in the character and habits of animals, for these would he useful, although no ingenious or philosophical deductions were drawn from them; but who, retiring to the solitude of his museum, examines species after species, genus the labour of several weeks, or months, or even of a year or two, and which but yesterday was considered as a most perfect model of philosophical arrangement, as a bright and glittering star in the dim regions of science, overturned, and demolished, and cast down, and its beams quenched, and extinguished, and put out, and "made as a thing that has never been." But let not its successor rejoice in this fatal overthrow, or confide in a more durable existence. "For thou art perhaps like it for a season, thy years shall have an end. Thou shalt sleep in thy clouds careless of the voice of the morning,"-and shall seek for thee, and find thee not and thy very name shall be unknown.' men What indeed can afford a more con vincing proof of the errors which exist in the present mode of prosecuting the study of particular branches of natural history, than the never-ceasing changes which take place in the views and principles of the system-makers themselves. Not only do they in many essential particulars differ from each other, but what is peculiarly unfortunate, the same individual is rarely impressed with similar ideas concerning the true principles of classification for a longer period than a couple of months at a time; so that it would be scarcely possible to conceive a more fruitless task, than an attempt to give an exposition of the different systems of the naturalists of the day, as the author, on having finished what he thought a very fair and luminous statement of their doctrines, would find that one half had in the interim renounced their former opinions, and erected their new systems upon principles most opposite to those which they had formerly assumed. It would be easy to illustrate the truth of these observations, by examples from the productions of ingenious men both at home and abroad; but it is not the object of this short communication to enter at present into detail. Such an examination in fact would be tedious and perhaps unintelligible, to those who have merely attended to natural history as a popular science; and to those who are more deeply versed, it is unnecessary to notice facts which are so palpably obvious. Too abundant proofs may be found in some modern systems, where the lists of synonyms, and the references to former emanations of the classifying principle, sufficiently demonstrate their own fallacy by contradicting each other. Every enlightened naturalist must be aware of the injury which science sustains by such most erroneous and mistaken views, and of the ridicule to which those who maintained them have exposed themselves. Perhaps that ridicule may not have reached their own ears, but its cause must be apparent even to them if they choose to open their eyes. "But what are lights to those who blinded be, Or who so blind as they that will not see ?" It would be well if these distinguished votaries of science would inform us of any benefit which can pos sibly be derived from these and similar proceedings. When I talk of benefit, I allude not to the question of cui bono, which might be put by a worldly man while emptying his daily gain into his coffers-but what increase of knowledge is derived from it? what' light is thrown on the beautiful operations of nature? Is natural history, properly so called, in any degree dignified or advanced by such modes of study, and by such precious lucubrations? Is the wisdom of Omnipotence glorified by the discovery, that one insect has a joint more in the articulations of its antennæ, and another a joint less in those of its toes, than has hitherto been supposed? unless, indeed, it be at the same time shewn, and which it universally may be, that such variations and distinctions are the result of a beneficent Providence which uniformly and wisely adapts the means to the end in view; or is there no other mode of investigating the wonders of this beautiful world, than by taking every thing piecemeal with a pair of pincers? I am far from wishing to throw ridicule on the labours of the professed zoologist. A knowledge of the detail of natural history is necessary to the enjoyment of her sublimest mysteries. What I would object to is merely the study of this detail, to the exclusion of more enlarged, I may add more enlightened, views. The preceding observations are in some degree applicable to the spirit which at present may be said to pervade every department of zoology, but that which I have chiefly in view is Entomology, or the Natural History of Insects. It may indeed be supposed by some, that these minute creatures are too insignificant to deserve our attention, or, that if studied at all, the method already alluded to was the only one which, from their utter want of importance in the economy of nature, could possibly be pursued. But this is a most lame and impotent conclusion. I remember the words of an old poet; which deserve the perusal of such reasoners. The passage is from a curious poem by Guidott, on the history of the ephemeron, a wondrous fly that liveth but five hours," prefixed to Tyson's translation of Swammerdam's Ephemeri vita. Although the great Creator's wisdom hone Both in his foot-stool and his throne, Though greater bodies made the louder noise, Yet in the lesser is a voice, A voice, though still, That doth the mind with admiration fill, And gives to man the product of his will. The insect world, when truly known, Doth both his skill and glory too, declare, They a Creator own No less than doth the Sun, Their Rise, their Life, their End, Sparks of wise pow'r comprehend." Natural history, in fact, consists of two distinct divisions. The first comprehends the classification of the various races of animals-the description of their external form-and the formation of a correct and applicable nomenclature; the second, and without doubt by much the more important, includes the description of their manners, habits, and uses, whether in the economy of nature, or, as subservient to the benefit of mankind, of their food, growth, habitations, and modes of rearing their young-an account of their hybernation, migration, and other most singular instincts-and a comprehensive view of their mutual relations, and their physical and geographical distribution over the earth's surface. In regard to the former, however useful it may be as an accessory to the delightful pursuits to which it leads, if considered in relation to itself alone, few branches of human acquirement can be said to be more tedious, mechanical, and imperfect, or more devoid of real interest and utility. No mind, unless blinded by prejudicerendered callous by habit and the force of early example-or naturally destitute of the power of indulging in extended and enlightened views-can pursue it to the exclusion of the other. It exhibits no new views of the economy of nature-it makes no adequate impression of the power, and the goodness, and the wisdom, of Providence, -it conducts neither directly or indirectly to the exposition of final causes -it affects neither the fancy, the imagination, nor the heart, and exists of itself, and by itself, unconnected with other studies of a more intellectual nature-" with no rainbow tinge to allure our gaze by its beauty-not one celestial hue to lighten the dull materiality of its aspect." The latter division of the science, however, is fortunately of a very different nature. It presents a widely extended and ever-varying field of enjoyment to those whose minds are capable of being excited by the sublime perfections of nature. To him who regards it with a philosophical eye, it is indeed a source of the purest pleasure. In the depth of the most secluded valleys, the resources of his mind never fail him; he feels not alone on the mountain top, though enveloped in mist and vapour; amidst the toil, and the bustle, and the fever of a city, he is calm and serene. still and placid state of mind is the necessary result of an attentive consideration of the facts of natural history; and nothing proves, in so pleasing and beautiful a manner, the existence of an Omnipotent Being, as a careful examination of the works of nature. A Natural history, indeed, in the true and liberal acceptation of the term, has been the study of the most elevated minds in every age. To the poet it holds out many and great inducements, as one of the noblest storehouses of the imagination; and the regard which has been bestowed upon it by that enlightened class of men, demonstrates its power over the mind, and its consequent value and importance as a study. In fine, as long as the human mind remains pure and unsullied-as long as it is excited by what is beautiful in simplicity and truth-as long as it delights to dwell on the sublime productions of Omnipotence, contrasted with the feeble efforts of art-it will derive pleasure and instruction from the study of nature. P. F. Edinburgh, 7th June 1817. METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS. IN the Meteorological Table for Edinburgh, given by you, I perceive the observations are made at 8 o'clock in the morning and 8 o'clock in the evening. Permit me to say, that during at least eight months in the year, this will give us the temperature of the night, and not of the day and night combined; and, judging from my own observations here, it will exhibit the average temperature of Edinburgh eight or ten degrees too low. The average difference between the heat of the day from 10 to 5, and the heat at |