533 The Parricide: an Italian Fact. ive on its exterior. This is proved be- | ause electricity is in proportion to its urface, and the surface of a Leyden jar eing increased by connexion with the urface of the earth, the united negative xplosion is much greater than by itself. lence, by induction, the electric battery as a series of jars. The neutral part of a conductor may be nade positive or negative, by the appliation of a rod from the positive or negative nd of another conductor. The induction from the Voltaic troughs 3 this: zinc gives a positive charge to opper, and that is transmitted to the next plate of zinc, which then possesses thrice he power of the first. The trough must begin with one metal, and end with the other, else the machine is neutral. One end of zinc is positive, the other termiating with a copper-plate is negative. Electric fire cannot be measured in its progress, it burns at the end of a wire one undred feet off, at the instant it is fired at the machine. Experiment: wire, round the gallery of the lecture-room, blazed at the end like a candle, the assistants holding the wire armed with charcoal balls, which were extinguished and again lighted repeatedly by the instantaneous junction at the machine. The thinnest film of metal takes so much of the charge as to be consumed by it; gold and silver leaf burns; even platina, incombustible and scarcely fusible in any other fire, melts and burns in a bright flame like wax in a fire. Gold burns yellow, silver white or greenish, charcoal red. Copper green and red. Sulphuric acid is almost as good a conductor as metal: brilliant sparks are drawn out of it. Water is next-the luminous sparks set fire to alcohol. This latter is next to water as a conductor, but is inferior many degrees; it is almost a non-conductor. The under surface of a thunder-cloud is positive, the upper is negative: hence lightning. For as soon as the water, which is repellant in itself, when in equilibrium with the earth's electricity, causes an explosion, and this explosion being forced to undulate between the two opposite electricities, the cloud is broken into thunder-claps, and the noise increases in rapidity, as it passes to the jagged extremity of the cloud. A long cloud makes a long clap of thunder, and according to its thickness or intensity, its nearness to the earth or to the heaven. The several differences in this great natural electric explosion, are caused by invariable laws. A battery discharged through a chan to 534 the wall, is to thunder, as five feet, the length of the chain, is to the miles' length | of the thunder-cloud. Water in clouds being in the same state of electricity, its parts repel each other, as soon as they approach the equilibrium with the earth's electricity, and fall in rain. Hence, all the different sorts of rain may be explained, and also the water-spout from the same cause. The aurora of the south and north polar circles, may be caused by the mass of snow and ice which is a non-conductor, excluding the electric fire, which takes post in the air; and when intense, emits electric light. Voltaic fire in an exhausted receiver is of the blue colour of the aurora borealis, and so is the light from a conductor of the electric wheel, when the room is darkened. Hence, the dipping needle is affected. The theory of lightning is proved, but the explanation of the aurora is only supposed. Hypothesis is useful to promote research; but nature has no architect in human fancy. Truth is the result of demonstration, and the reward of labour. (To be continued.) THE PARRICIDE.-AN ITALIAN FACT. Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord," Romans xii. 19. "A MURDERER!" ejaculated the confessor, and threw back his cowl with breathless horror. Before him, indeed, knelt a murderer and a parricide. Veiled in black from head to foot, the beautiful Beatrice Cenci was confessing a crime too dreadful for any to hear but him in whose bosom was lodged for ever many a tale of guilt.Who could have conceived that such an unearthly form, so young, so lovely, could have tinged her hands with blood-even the blood of her father? Yet how sorrowful her features! Grief and melancholy beamed from those mournfully dark eyes, while her ebon tresses veiled her snowy brow and neck, and gave an indescribable, yet a sorrowful sensation to those who beheld her. The tale she had poured into the confessor's ear was an uncommon one. Young and beautiful, allied to birth and fortune, yet she was not happy. Hated beyond conception by a cruel parent, she had struggled from her cradle onward in misery. Treated with brutal severity and cruelty, too diabolical for a parent to conceive, she had submitted in silence. Insulted and scorned, she had complained not, but wept the cruel hour that brought her into this world of sorrow. Taught by 535 The Parricide: an Italian Fact. unkindness and reproach to shun and detest so unnatural a father, she had never exercised a daughter's love. When hatred and tyranny had been substituted in the stead of parental affection, filial feelings of regard and esteem had been crushed for ever.But the wretch had filled up his measure of iniquity. Repeated exasperations had roused revenge even in the bosom of the beautiful Beatrice. His brutality had deserved the severity of justice, and his victim was roused to execute the sentence. In the middle of the night, when her wretched father, yet still her father, was wrapped in the unconsciousness of sleep, her poniard was buried in his bosom. From that moment the most excruciating remorse had possessed her inmost soul. She had hurried to the confessor, hoping to be relieved from her insupportable anguish. Father Benedict was a monk of the Dominican order-venerable in years, and clothed with the simplicity and majesty of religion. His countenance was impressed with sorrow; yet from his eyes beamed the calm expression of resignation. He had known and felt the deepest temptation; and this had created a sympathizing tenderness towards the penitent confessors of guilt. But here pity was commingled with horror, that one so young, so lovely, could have been a murderer-a parricide. as a "When I had committed the deed," Continued Beatrice, "I was overwhelmed with grief. My mind was distracted with the consciousness of guilt. On my burning brow there seemed to be stamped that heavy hand which stigmatized me murderer-the impress dyed with a father's blood. The remembrance of what I once was came over me, and I shuddered with horror. The big drop stood on my forehead, choked with the conflicting feelings that rushed through my raving brain. I sought the cool air. But what were my sensations as I gazed wildly around! The moon had hung her silver lamp in the heavens, and the clustering stars glistened in the vast canopy above. The forest, with its moveless boughs, tipped in the flooding rays of light, slept in silence. The stream that waved slowly on its course through the vale, fringed with rush and wild flower, while drooped on its banks the graceful shrub with its feathery leaf, reflected the spangled sky. Not a breath stirred. All was beautiful. Nature seemed to speak peace to man, but it spoke not peace to me. I felt that I was a guilty creature. My mind, like a boiling sea, was tossed to and fro in delirious agony. I felt myself as if in a world of spotless beings, whose inno 536 cence rendered me loathsome, even to myself. My heavy heart was breaking; but it could not-would not, relieve me. I gazed again, till my eyes became fixed in their aching sockets. Imagination, impressed with terror, tinged the moon with blood, while the crimson stars veiled their light. Before me rose phantoms of such hideous shape and mien, that even now memory shudders at the reflection. I strove to fly, but something within bound me to the spot, and I was motionless. Again, all was calm and beautiful, and conscience, for a moment, forgot her remorseful pangs. I shunned the light, even the pure beams of night. I sought my couch, and excluded the rays that, darting into the room, recalled my consciousness. But sleep falls not on the eyelids of those whose hands are still red with murder. Restless, I sighed for morn, till, falling into partial forgetfulness, I suddenly started from some horrible dream that rendered even sleep more distressing. With the first morning light I rose, and cooled my brow in the delicious breeze. To the moon and stars had suc ceeded the sun. The silvery mist was rising from the hills. Hill and vale, flower and stream, all nature, animate and inanimate, seemed to be filled with that delight which vents itself in grateful smiles. The light of heaven was ushered in with joy, and happiness was diffused upon the bosom of the earth. I alone was miserable. I had done a deed on which the sun could not but look with horror. I fled from his piercing eye, and again sought darkness that I might be veiled from his sight. I retired to my chamber with a heavy heart. I fell on my knees and would have prayed, but Heaven was too pure to listen to the prayers of a murderer. Not daring to meet the eye of man, while my breast within was overwhelmed with shame and remorse, I felt all that it is possible for guilt to feel.Hitherto my heart, overpressed with insupportable anguish, had vented itself only in painful sighs. To have wrung a tear from my burning eyes would have been some relief. At length exhausted nature permit ted her tortured victim to weep-and I could have wept for ever. Here I have hastened to you, Father Confessor, entreating the prayers of a holy man.' The monk was silent. Beatrice sobbed with grief. "Is there no hope, Father? Can nothing efface the stain that has polluted me? But it is blood-a father's blood. Oh! what have I felt ! Pray that Heaven may have mercy on such a loathsome wretch." The monk sighed. Then solemnly re 537 Elephant Hunting. peating passages of Scripture, he impressed her mind with the magnitude of her sin.--"Verily, we are all of us guilty before God, and if we would that our heavenly Father should bear with our manifold transgressions, so must we bear with the cruelty and unkindness of others.' Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord'-'Love your enemies, bless them that curse you,' said our holy Savionr. For are not his mercies even upon those who commit the most flagrant crimes? Does not the same rain that fertilizes the field of a pious man increase the wealth of the wicked? Does not the same hand bestow the blessings of life, health, and riches, equally upon the just and unjust? He who is in heaven would have avenged the wrongs, hadst thou not been a murderer. But he requires blood for blood; and surely thou wilt die, for thine iniquity is great." The confessor withdrew, and Beatrice, carefully veiled, returned home. Her father's corpse had been discovered, and officers of justice were in pursuit of the object of their suspicion. She was conveyed to the rack, but it extorted nothing. Yet the sufferings of her little brother, when stretched on the engine of terror, called forth all the feelings of a sister, and she surrendered herself to perish on a scaffold. Thus died the beautiful, yet unfortunate Beatrice Cenci, leaving behind her a mournful example of the wickedness of revenge. Her portrait, by Guido, is still in the gallery of the Palazzo Colona at Rome. The inimitable artist has given to her beautiful features such a wild and touching expression of sorrow, that the sympathizing beholder is always excited to know the history of so interesting a female. Beaconsfield. J. A. B. DANGEROUS RENCOUNTER WITH ELE- "IN the year 1821, I had joined the recently formed semi-military settlement of Fredericksburg, on the picturesque banks of the Gualana, beyond the great Fish river. At this place our party (consisting chiefly of the disbanded officers and soldiers of the Royal African corps,) had already shot many elephants, with which the country at that time abounded. The day previous to my adventure, I had witnessed an elephant hunt for the first time. On this occasion a large female was killed, after some hundred shots had been fired at her. The balls seemed at first to produce little effect, but 538 at length she received several shots in the trunk and eyes, which entirely disabled her from making resistance or escaping, and she fell an easy prey to her assailants. "On the following day, one of our servants came to inform us that a large troop of elephants was in the neighbourhood of the settlement, and that several of our people were already on their way to attack them. I instantly set off to join the hunters, but, from losing my way in the jungle through which I had to proceed, I could not overtake them, until after they had driven the elephants from their first station. On getting out of the jungle, I was proceeding through an open meadow on the banks of the Gualana, to the spot where I heard the firing, when I was suddenly warned of approaching danger, by loud cries of "Pas op!-Look out!" coupled with my name in Dutch and English; and at the same moment heard the crackling of broken branches produced by the elephants bursting through the wood, and the tremendous screams of their wrathful voices resounding among the precipitous banks. Immediately a large female, accompanied by three others of a smaller size, issued from the edge of the jungle which skirted the river margin. As they were not more than two hundred yards off, and were proceeding directly towards me, I had not much time to decide on my motions. "Being alone, and in the middle of a little open plain, I saw that I must inevitably be caught, should I fire in this position, and my shot not take effect. I therefore retreated hastily out of their direct path, thinking they would not observe me, until Í should find a better opportunity to attack them. But in this I was mistaken, for on looking back I perceived to my dismay, that they had left their former course, and were rapidly pursuing and gaining ground on me. Under these circumstances I determined to reserve my fire as a last resource, and turning off at right angles in the opposite direction, I made for the banks of the small river, with a view to take refuge among the rocks on the other side, where I should have been safe. But before I got within fifty paces of the river, the elephants were within twenty paces of me-the large female in the middle, and the other three on either side of her, apparently with the intention of making sure of me; all of them screaming so tremendously, that I was almost stunned with the noise. I immediately turned round, cocked my gun, and aimed at the head of the largest, the female. But the gun, unfortunately, from the powder being damp, hung fire, till I 539 On the Use of Fiction. 540 was in the act of taking it from my shoul- | Leaving the corpse for a little, he again der, when it went off, and the ball merely grazed the side of her head. "Halting only for an instant, the animal again rushed furiously forward. I fell-I cannot say whether struck down by her trunk or not. She then made a thrust at me with her tusk. Luckily for me she had only one, which, still more luckily, missed its mark. She then caught me with her trunk by the middle-threw me beneath her fore feet-and knocked me about them for a little space :-I was scarcely in a condition to compute the number of minutes very accurately. Once she pressed her foot on my chest with such force, that I actually felt the bones, as it were, bending under the weight; and once she trod on the middle of my arm, which, fortunately, lay flat on the ground at the time. During this rough handling, however, I never entirely lost my recollection, else I have little doubt she would have settled my accounts with this world. But owing to the roundness of her foot, I generally managed, by twisting my body ang limbs, to escape her direct tread. Whil, I was still undergoing this buffeting, Lieut. Chisholm, of the R. A. corps, and Diederik, a Hottentot, had come up, and fired several shots at her, one of which hit her in the shoulder; and at the same time her companions or young ones retiring, and screaming to her from the edge of the forest, she reluctantly left me, giving me a cuff or two with her hind feet in passing. I got up, picked up my gun, and staggered away as fast as my aching bones would allow; but observing that she turned round, and looked back towards me, before entering the bush, I lay down in the long grass, by which means I escaped her observation. "On reaching the top of the high bank of the river, I met my brother, who had not been at this day's hunt, but had run out on being told by one of the men that he had seen me killed. He was not a little surprised at meeting me alone, and in a whole skin, though plastered with mud from head to foot. While he, Mr. Knight of the Cape regiment, and I, were yet talking of my adventure, an unlucky soldier of the R. A. corps, of the name of M'Clane, attracted the attention of a large male elephant, which had been driven towards the village. The ferocious animal gave chase, and caught him immediately under the height where we were standing-carried him some distance in his trunk-then threw him down, and bringing his four feet together, trod and stamped upon him for a considerable time, till he was quite dead. returned, as if to make quite sure of his destruction, and, kneeling down, crushed and kneaded the body with his fore legs. Then seizing it again with his trunk, he carried it to the edge of the jungle, and threw it among the bushes. While this tragedy was going on, my brother and I scrambled down the bank as far as we could, and fired at the furious animal, but we were at too great a distance to be of any service to the unfortunate man, who was crushed almost to a jelly. 66 Shortly after this catastrophe, a shot from one of the people broke this male elephant's left fore leg, which completely disabled him from running. On this occasion, we witnessed a touching instance of affection and sagacity in the elephant, which I cannot forbear to relate, as it so well illustrates the character of this noble animal. Seeing the danger and distress of her mate, the female before mentioned, (m personal antagonist,) regardless of her own danger, quitted her shelter in the bush, rushed out to his assistance, walked round and round him, chasing away the assailants, and still returning to his side and caressing him; and when he attempted to walk, she placed her flank under his wounded side and supported him. This scene continued nearly half an hour, until the female received a severe wound from Mr. C. Mackenzie, of the R. A. corps, which drove her again to the bush, where she speedily sunk exhausted from the loss of blood; and the male soon after received a mortal wound also from the same officer. "Thus ended our elephant hunt; and I need hardly say, that what we witnessed on this occasion, of the intrepidity and ferocity of these powerful animals, rendered us more cautious in our dealings with them for the future." ON THE USE OF FICTION. As language is a gift of Heaven, designed for the wisest and best purposes; so, like most other good things, it is desecrated to folly and deceit. At one time it is devoted to the communication of sentiments which are calculated to exalt and dignify the best faculties of man; at another it is the vehicle of those which alike demoralize and destroy. On the one hand, we may behold it waving in the sublime regions of truth; on the other, we may discover it flitting among the deceitful wages of falsehood. Thus, while we acknowledge the excellence and value of such a gift, we cannot but lament its abuse; and while 541 Description of an Irish Potteen Distillery. rejoicing in its proper application, we cannot but coincide in the just opinion, that there is no greater reproach or dishonour, than specious and deceitful words. The end of most fictitious language is, in some form or other, to deceive; and therefore, whether practised in a good or bad cause, it is alike disgraceful and unjustifiable. It is, however, too often employed for the worst purposes :--too often it boldly takes upon itself the advocacy of things which are worthy only of obscurity. Employed then in a bad cause, it imbodies its own condemnation, and, in the estimation of every lover of truth, it must be stamped as injurious to the welfare of man; and, if deserving notice at all, it is only so far as is necessary to counteract any of the mischievous effects it may occasion.! No matter how beautiful and elevating the style by which it is adorned; if captivating to the ear; the evil is equally great, or rather, in such a case, is greatly augmented. We not unfrequently find fictitious language (I mean positive falsehood) employed, for the accomplishment of some object which is good in itself, and with motives which may be justly commended: not so the means employed. Let the cause be more or less important, if it be a good one, it cannot need the adoption of improper measures for its furtherance; and by so much the more it seeks to employ these, in just the same proportion will its claims to excellence be diminished. The sentiment is no less just than it is trite, that "Truth will always illustrate herself by her own light." Let then such a sentiment be adopted in the practice, as well as in the theory of men, and the most beneficial result will be seen to follow. Let us only open our eyes to the bright bearings of truth, instead of introducing false lights, and we shall find that all will be smooth and properous. Specious and feigned language is often adopted upon a principle of false delicacy. Merely for the sake of sparing the feelings, or often for blinding the judgments, recourse is had to this miserable subterfuge. Thus we compel truth to do homage to the capricious whims of man, or sacrifice her at the shrine of false pity and imaginary delicacy. What, if we foresaw the greatest calamity that human nature could suffer, about to fall upon a fellow-creature, should we therefore conceal it from him, and afford him no opportunity to avoid it, because we wish not to harrow up his feelings? Would not the distress occasioned by the discovery, be far less than that which the sudden bursting of the calamity itself would 542 occasion? If we would display true greatness and affection of soul, rather than blind his eyes to the danger, let us unite in commiserating and alleviating his actual dis tress. It has been questioned how far works of fiction, generally so termed, may be justifiable and tolerable. Much has been said for and against them. While it is undeniable that many of them have been, and still are, the cause of much serious evil, and therefore deserve to be rejected with abhor. rence, it is equally certain that they have frequently been the means of much usefulness and delight. To condemn them altogether, would be to run into a violent extreme. How many hours of comfort and delight have been spent in the perusal of such works, and how much truth and instruction have been conveyed through their medium! Often have the feelings of the mind been raised to ardent desires after virtue, and sensations of the most unexceptionable nature been kindled by them. Besides, who would consent to lose the beautiful and instructi.e fables and parables which we have on record, t only in human, but also in sacred lite.ature? Who would wish to hear no more the sweet harpings of poesy, many of which are clothed in the garb of fiction? It is only the abuse of works of fiction which must be deprecated; so long as they keep within certain bounds, the nature of truth will tolerate them. To a certain extent they may go, but no farther. The moment they enter into regions of exuberant fancy and improbability, or exhibit a specious tendency to deceive (which perhaps is the turning point of the question) or venture to pollute themselves with what is obscene and impious, they must, together with all other works composed of such injurious materials, be considered as disgraceful and demoralizing in their nature. The boundaries between right and wrong, between truth and falsehood, are not difficult to be discovered, if examined with an unperverted eye; and the true interests of virtue and religion may be thence clearly developed. Oxon. J.S. B. DESCRIPTION OF AN IRISH POTTEEN DISTILLERY. SOME time since, being on a journey amongst the mountains in the most northern parts of Ireland, I learned that there was a potteen distillery then at work; and, having despatched an emissary well known to the distiller to procure me admission, I was permitted to inspect the process. |