six or seven together, every one saw the phenomenon with regard to himself, and not that relating to others. The diameter of the arches gradually altered with the ascent of the sun above the horizon: and the phenomenon itself, after continuing a long time, insensibly vanished."

What might not a poetical imagination, or a superstitious mind, or a mind softened at the time by a particular loss of relatives, or other affliction, have inferred from these indications of celestial apotheosis and glory? Especially as each saw the optical spectra singly, what might not silence, or what might not solitude, have suggested, aided by accidental circumstances easily imagined. These appearances occurred among mountains, and it may be recollected that mountain scenery has ever been favourable to interviews with the spirits of departed heroes, with the mighty dead, supposed to haunt their former resi dences. Were they other than clouds assuming certain forms, or effects of light and shade flitting among the heights, or phenomena dependent on the refraction of the rays of light, solar or lunar?

But some have held conversations with spirits. Dr. F. admits that Tasso really saw the appearances with which he conversed; i. e. that such images were really present by impressions made on his disordered bodily organs: had he noticed the curious particulars that Tasso's study was a Gothic apartment, and that he fancied his familiar spirit conversed with him through a window of stained glass, he might have found a very powerful support to his theory: the coloured rays certainly affected the poet's organs of vision: by delusive but not unreal operation. Dr. F. admits also, that Brutus saw, with his bodily organs, the spectre that promised to meet him at Philippi; but he has paid no attention to the circumstances which surrounded Brutus at the time. He was accustomed to read in his tent, at midnight, when his bodily frame was debilitated by fatigue, and his spirits exhausted by long and toilsome marches, by the duties of the day; he was, therefore, in a state to be led astray by a predisposed imagination. What was the subject of the book he was reading?-Was it Plato, on the immortality of the soul, or was it the theory of the dying Bramin, who prophetically warned Alexander that they should meet at Babylon? Either of these might suggest the idea of a spectre rising to disturb his meditation, or a spirit predicting a meeting, at which the hero promised to be present.

Some curious persons, of uncommon strength of mind, and sufficiently informed, have watched the progress of this disease in themselves, and have distinguished its effects. Among the most decisive of these is the case of Nicolai, the celebrated au

thor and bookseller of Berlin. He was accustomed to loose blood twice a year; but this was omitted at the close of the year 1790, when it ought to have taken place. Says he,

"I had, in January and February of the year 1791, the additional misfortune to experience several extremely unpleasant circumstances, which were followed on the 24th of February by a most violent altercation. My wife and another person came into my apartment in the morning in order to console me, but I was too much agitated by a series of incidents which had most powerfully affected my moral feeling, to be capable of attending to them; on a sudden I perceived, at about the distance of ten steps, a form like that of a deceased person; I pointed at it, asking my wife if she did not see it. It was but natural that she should not see any thing; my question therefore alarmed her very much, and she sent immediately for a physician. The phantasm continued about eight minutes. I grew at length more calm, and being extremely exhausted, fell into a violently restless sleep which lasted about half an hour: the physician ascribed the apparition to a violent mental emotion, and hoped that there would be no return; but the violent agitation of my mind had in some way disordered my nerves, and produced farther consequences which deserve a more minute description.

"At four in the afternoon, the form which I had seen in the morning reappeared. I was by myself when this happened, and being rather uneasy at the incident, went to my wife's apartment, but there likewise I was prevented by the apparition, which, however, at intervals, disappeared, and always presented itself in a standing posture: about six o'clock there appeared also several walking figures, which had no connexion with the first.

As when the first terror was over, I beheld the phantasms with great emotion, taking them for what they really were, remarkable consequences of an indisposition, I endeavoured to collect myself as much as possible, that I might preserve a clear consciousness of the changes which should take place within myself; I observed these phantasms very closely, and frequently reflected on my antecedent thoughts to discover, if possible, by means of what association of ideas exactly, these forms presented themselves to my imagination; I thought at times I had found a clew, but taking the whole together I could not make out any natural connexion between the occupations of my mind, my occupations, my regular thoughts, and the multifarious forms which now appeared to me, and now again disappeared. After repeated and close observations, and calm examination, I was unable to form any conclusion relative to the origin and continuation of the different phantasms which presented themselves to me. All that I could infer was, that while my nervous system was in such an irregular state, such phantasms would appear to me as if I actually saw and heard them; that these illusions were not modified by any known laws of reason, imagination, or the common_association of ideas, and that probably other

people who may have had similar apparitions, were exactly in the same predicament.

"I attempted to produce at pleasure, phantasms of persons whom I knew, by intensely reflecting on their countenance, shape, &c., but distinctly as I called to my lively imagination the respective shades of three of these persons, I still laboured in vain to make them appear to me as phantasms, though I had before involuntarily seen them in that manner, and perceived them some time after, when I least thought of them. I could at the same time distinguish between phantasms and real objects, and the calmness with which I examined them enabled me to avoid the commission of the smallest mistake. I knew exactly when it only appeared to me that the door was opening and a phantasm entering the room, and when it actually opened and a real person entered.

"These phantasms appeared equally clear and distinct at all times and all circumstances, both when I was by. myself and when I was in company, and as well in the day as at night, and in my own house as well as abroad; they were, however, less frequent when I was in the house of a friend, and rarely appeared to me in the street; when I shut my eyes these phantasms would sometimes disappear entirely, though there were instances when I beheld them with my eyes closed, yet when they disappeared on such occasions, they generally reappeared when I opened my eyes.

"I generally saw human forms of both sexes, but they usually appeared not to take the smallest notice of each other, moving as in a market place, where all are eager to press through the crowd; at times, however, they seemed to be transacting business with each other: I also saw several times people on horseback, dogs, and birds. All these phantasms appeared to me in their natural size, and as distinct as if alive, exhibiting different shades of carnation in the uncovered parts as well as in different colours and fashions in their dresses; though the colours seemed somewhat paler than in real nature, none of the figures appeared particularly terrible, comical, or disgusting, most of them being of an indifferent shape, and some having a pleasing appearance.

"I also began to hear them talk; the phantoms sometimes conversed among themselves, but more frequently addressed their discourse to me; their speeches were commonly short, and never of an unpleasant turn. At different times there appeared to me both dear and sensible friends of both sexes, whose addresses tended to appease my grief, which had not yet wholly subsided: these consolatory speeches were in general addressed to me when I was alone: sometimes I was accosted by these consoling friends while I was in company, frequently while real persons were speaking to me. These consolatory addresses consisted sometimes of abrupt phrases, and at others they were regularly connected."

These phantoms continued till April 20, at eleven o'clock in the morning, when, after again losing blood,

"I perceived," says he, " that they began to move more slowly. Soon after, their colour began to fade, and at seven o'clock they were entirely white. But they moved very little, though the forms were as distinct as before: growing, however, by degrees, more obscure; yet not fewer in number, as had generally been the case. The phantoms did not withdraw, nor did they vanish: which previous to that time had frequently happened. They now seemed to dissolve in the air: while fragments of them continued visible a considerable time. About eight o'clock the room was entirely cleared of my fantastic visiters."

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE

OF THE LATE

LIEUTENANT BURROWS.

IT is the laudable desire of every brave man to receive the praises of his countrymen: but there is a dearer and more cherished wish that grows closer to his heart; it is to live in the recollections of those he loves and honours; to leave behind a name, at the mention of which the bosom of friendship shall glow, the eye of affection shall brighten; which shall be a legacy of honest pride to his family, causing it to dwell on his worthy deeds, and glory in his memory. The bravest soldier would not willingly expose himself to certain danger, if he thought that death were to be followed by oblivion; he might rise above the mere dread of bodily pain, but human pride shrinks from the darkness and silence of the grave.

It is the duty, and it is likewise the policy, therefore, of a nation, to pay distinguished honour to the memories of those who have fallen in its service. It is, after all, but a cheap reward for sufferings and death; but it is a reward that will prompt others to the sacrifice, when they see that it is faithfully discharged. The youthful bosom warms with emulation at the praises of departed heroes. The marble monument that bears the story of a nation's admiration and gratitude, becomes an object of ambition. Death, the great terror of warfare, ceases to be an evil when graced with such distinctions; and thus one hero may be said, like a phoenix, to spring from the ashes of his predecessor.

In the gallant young officer who is the subject of the present memoir, we shall see these observations verified; he fought with the illustrious example of his brethren before his eyes, and died with the funeral honours of Lawrence fresh in his recollection.