greater surface of the metal, and of the water which surrounds it, than it could if it were not divided, and thus a much more complete absorption of its heat is obtained. Now, precisely analogous to this contrivance is that of the distribution of the vital principle in the animal. When arrived at the organ where it is to be given off, the artery which conveys it branches into a thousand capillary channels, thus bearing its appropriate nutrition to every separate part, and at the same time infinitely extending the surface of absorption. The same, too, is true of the veins and lymphatics; and in the lungs, where the venous blood is to be brought in contact with an extended surface of air, the air is admitted, not into one large cavity, which at each inspiration is encircled by blood, but into millions of minute cavities, enclosed each by a slender membranous film, round which the blood rushes, and which is pervious to that oxygenating principle whose function is to convert it from venous to arterial blood,-these minute cavities having in their aggregate a far greater surface of absorption than a single cavity of the same capacity would have. Here, however, the parallel ceases, and the adaptation of the mechanism of NATURE to its uses, leaves art, as ever, far in the distance. All this process of reconstruction, which interrupts the functions of the machine, goes on in the full exercise of the living energies of the animal. The locomotive organization of the one is not only thus infinitely inferior to that of the other in the quality of permanence in the exercise of its functions, but yet further in their adaptation to the varying circumstances of locomotion. The path of the machine must at an enormous expense of labour be made straight, smooth, and very nearly horizontal. There is no provision included in it adapted to that broken and irregular path which the natural surface of the earth presents, or to any considerable ascent. The locomotive powers of the animal, on the contrary, suit themselves to all the varying circumstances of his condition; he steps firmly on the most uneven ground. According as he is to range for his prey over a wide-extended hunting-ground, or to live a life of quiet pasturage, his organization is adapted to speed or to repose. If his dwelling-place is to be the recesses of the forest, the suppleness of his limbs, and the imperviousness of his skin, fit him to make his way through its deep thickets, or he has strength to break down the trees which obstruct his way, and trample the underwood beneath his feet; or is his food to be sought among the branches of a tree, he can ascend its perpendicular sides, walk suspended beneath its branches, or readily spring from branch to branch, or from tree to tree. But after all, the greatest contrast is in this, that the machine and the man who controls it,-the engineer,-must be taken together; or allowing all the imperfect analogies which have been described to obtain, they will only in their aggregate constitute a resemblance to the animal-run mad. Take away The organs of the animal elaborate from its food as well the principle which ministers to its living energy, as another which continually passes into the solid state, and renovates the machine itself, supplying the place of those other portions of the organic substance of it, which are as continually taken up and thrown out of the system by the lymphatics. That the parallel should in this respect be complete, between the engine and the living animal, as each working part of the former wore away, either by the ordinary action of the machine, or by any unaccustomed cause, so solid matter, the same with that of which that part is composed, whatever it may be, whether wood, or iron, or brass, or steel, or even a leather thong, or a string, or the oil which lubricates a joint, should by a thousand minute channels be ministered, precisely in the quantity. which it is required, to keep up the existing form and use of that part. Or rather, thus connected with every single part of the solid organization of the machine, there should be two systems of vessels continually in a state of activity,-the one in carrying away the Now, to constitute anything like a proximate anasolid substance of that part, and the other in supply-logy to this, the engine and engineer must be taken ing it; this system of absorption and deposition together and necessarily constituted parts of one being so accurately balanced as to preserve the organ machine. itself under all circumstances the same. the engineer from the machine, and it will roll on until it dashes itself to pieces, or beats to atoms something which opposes itself to its fury, or until its mechanical life dies by exhaustion of coals; but it will answer none of the useful purposes for which it was constructed, and will be unable to perpetuate its own living power. Not so the living animal, it lives on, ministering continually to its own living power, and deporting itself instinctively with a discretion suited to the allotted sphere and purposes of its existence. As I walked with my host to the scene of action, he endeavoured to dissuade me from prosecuting my journey into Alentejo, a-district never very safe for travellers, but at that time peculiarly dangerous, from the great political excitement which prevailed. He told me of an alarming inciden that had once befallen him in travelling_through a wid and uncultivated part of that province. He put up one evening at a lonely inn, where he found the kitchen table surrounded by a party of ill-looking men, whom he soon recognised to be confederated robbers, by their appearance and manner, by the general style of their conver It is the absence of this principle of renovation in the machine which is the great and irremediable fault in it. It is for this reason, that although it is put on a smooth, hard, iron road, supported on springs, and made with every precaution against the wear and tear of its machinery; its parts are becoming continually so altered in their forms, its heated surfaces worn, its joints so loosened, its material so warped and strained, that it constantly requires to be replaced under the hands of the workman, and so frequent and so extensive are the repairs to which it is subjected, that retaining the same name, it be-sation, and still more by the peculiar connexion which comes from time to time, in point of fact, a new machine, and is reconstructed *. SO * From an average taken in respect to twenty-three machines, on the Darlington and Stockton railway, it appears that out of 127 days, each machine was 66 days under repair, working only 61 days, Besides this sacrifice of time, the repairs are made at an enormous expense of labour and materials. Between the 30th of June, 1833. and the 31st of December, 1834, there were paid on the Manchester and Liverpool railroad, for materials used in repairing the engines, £3755 3s. 7d.; for labour, £5014 8s. 7.; and from that time to June 30, 1834, for materials £4140 19s. 6d., for labour £5432 8s. 8d. -See De Pambour. Traité des Machines Locomotives, p. 368. seemed to exist between them and the master of the house. Shortly afterwards a gentleman stopped at the inn, accompanied by his servant, and mounted on a fine horse, whose handsome accoutrements bespoke the rank of his owner. In the course of the evening, my informant observed his host take up a pair of pistols belonging to the stranger, and extract the bullets. Confirmed in his worst suspicions, he cautiously left the room, and lost no time in effecting his escape; and he assured me, that he had afterwards reason to believe, that both the gentleman and his servant perished in that den of villains. [Portugal and Gallicia.] OF THE PRESENT POSITION OF MAN. WITH regard to the means by which Man has acquired and maintained his ascendency, it may be observed that these means are quite peculiar; and far from being such, as at first, perhaps, we might deem conducive to such an object: though when once known and understood, the beautiful design and harmony they evince, immediately become apparent. The supremacy of man has not been the result of his own personal strength; nor is it so upheld. On the contrary, many animals are larger and more powerful than he is: while few of his size are naturally so incapable of self-defence; or during so long a period suffer from the dependent helplessness of infancy, and of old age. Neither is his frame superior in external adaptation to climate: for while nature has furnished other animals with clothing appropriate to the temperature in which they live, Man has been brought into being absolutely naked; and, moreover, remains so, in every climate he inhabits, from the Equator to the Poles. Lastly, the preeminence of Man has not been owing to his more extensive range of diet; or to his greater ability for assimilation for though Man may be omnivorous in one sense of the term, he is not omnivorous according to the application of the term to other animals: that is to say, Man does not eat indiscriminately of every kind of aliment, in the state in which it is afforded by nature; for even in his rudest condition, he adopts some process of cookery. How then has Man gained the high station which he occupies? The answer is simply-by his Reason. Man has been created a reasonable being; and this endowment amply compensates to him for the want of the animal requisites of strength-for deficiency of natural covering and for his restricted ability in assimilating his food. By his reason, he is enabled to command the strength of the elephant; to choose from every production of nature whatever is adapted for his clothing, and thus to array himself according to his pleasure, or the exigencies of the climate in which he resides; to extract wholesome nourishment from the most unpromising, even from the most deleterious articles. There was no necessity, therefore, why Man should himself be as unwieldy as an elephant; or be encumbered with any vesture that in some situations might be oppressive; or be able to digest, without culinary preparation, any coarse and intractable substances. Thus, mere animal endowments not being requisite, the Creator's wisdom has been displayed in another manner, and with a wider scope. In furtherance of His design, MATLOCK HIGH TOR, DERBYSHIRE. THE manor of Matlock lies about four miles northeast from Wirksworth, in Derbyshire*. The Derbyshire vales are allowed on all hands to be extremely beautiful, but the vale of Matlock is supposed to surpass them all in the grandeur of its scenery. The bold and romantic steeps, skirted by a gorgeous covering of wood, and rising from the margin of the Derwent, whose waters sometimes glide majestically along, and sometimes flow in a rapid stream over ledges and broken masses of stone; the frequent changes of scene occasioned by the winding of the dale, which at every step varies the prospect by introducing new objects; the huge rocks, in some places bare of vegetation, in others covered with luxuriant foliage; here piled upon each other in immense masses, there displaying their enormous fronts, in one unbroken perpendicular mass; and the sublimity and picturesque beauty, exhibited by the manifold combinations of the interesting forms congregated near this enchanting spot, can never be adequately depicted by the powers of language. Matlock includes under one name the village of Matlock, and Matlock Bath; the village, which is of very ancient origin, stands chiefly on the eastern banks of the river, while the Bath, of more recent origin, is on the western margin. The manor is supposed to have belonged formerly to the Ferrers family; it was afterwards part of the Duchy of Lancaster. In 1628 it was granted to the corporation of the city of London, and managed by trustees; at present the rights of the manor are held in trust by three neighbouring gentlemen. The village of Matlock is chiefly inhabited by persons employed in the lead-mines and in the manufacture of cotton. The houses are principally of stone, and at the entrance to the village is a neat stone bridge; the church stands on a most romantic rock at some little distance. On an eminence somewhat higher up, called Riber Hill, are the remains of what is supposed to be a Druidical altar; they are called Hirst Stones. Matlock Bath is nearly a mile and a half from the village; but until its warm springs were brought into notice, its situation, although beautiful and romantic, was only occupied by a few miners' cabins. These celebrated warm springs, which are three in number, are not of a high temperature, the thermometer in the bath not rising higher than 68°. The water is much like that of the Clifton hot wells, both in chemical and medicinal properties. The first of these springs was discovered about the year 1698, when the old bath was formed of wood, lined with lead, and a few small rooms were built adjoining the bath, forming, however, but a poor accommodation to visiters. Some years afterwards, the property having changed hands, two large and commodious buildings were erected, with stables and other con He has limited the bulk of the human species to that happy medium, combining strength with convenience; and to an organization delicate and sensi-veniences, and a coach-road formed along the rivertive in the highest degree, but nevertheless accomdating, He has superadded a form at once peculiar, appropriate, and beautiful! side from Cromford. A second spring was found at about a quarter of a mile distance, and another bath erected; and at a still later period a third, three or four hundred yards to the east of that first discovered, and another bath and lodging-house built; this has, since that time, been turned into a commodious hotel: the three buildings are called the old bath, the new bath, and the hotel. All the hot springs issue at a height of from about fifteen to thirty yards above the level of the river. At Buxton baths, which are in the same county, a very charitable and useful custom prevails, which, although it has no direct connexion with the baths at Matlock, is worth noticing; it is that of collecting For an account of the Cavern in the Peak of Derbyshire, see Saturday Magazine, Vol. I., page 153. the sum of one shilling from each visiter, on his arrival, to form a fund for the poor who have resort to the waters. In 1572 there was a fixed rate, according to the dignity of the visiter, and the money raised was divided equally between the physician and the poor bathers. Alway provyded the day o of your coming thither bee noted, before you enter into the bathes, and the day of your departure, with the country of your habitation, condition, or calling, with the infirmityes or cause you came for, in the regyster booke kept of the warden of the bath, or the physition that there shall be appointed, and the benefite you receyved, paying four pence for the recording; and every yeoman, besides, 12 pence, every gentleman 3 shillinges, every esquior 3s. 4d., every knight 6s. 8d., every lord and baron 10s., every vicount 13s. 4d., every erle 20s., every marques 30s., every duke 31. 10s., every archbishop 5l., every bishop 40s., every judge 20s., every doctour and sergeant of lawe 10s., every chauncellor and utter-barrister 6s. 8d., every archdeacon, prebendary, and canon, 5s., every minister 12 pence, every duches 40s, every marquesses 20s., every countes 13s. 4d., every barones 10s., every lady 6s. 8d., every gentlewoman 2s., and al for the treasure of the bath. To the use of the poor, that only for help do come thither, the one halfe; the other to the physition for his residence. In the midst of the beautiful scenery we have already described, the High Tor, represented in the engraving, is seen rearing its awful brow on the left bank of the river; the height of this lofty rock is upwards of 350 feet. The lower part is covered with small trees and underwood, but the upper part, for fifty or sixty yards, is one broad mass of naked perpendicular rock. The fragments that have fallen from this eminence form the bed of the river, which flows immediately below, over a broken and disjointed bed. After sudden and heavy rains, the impetuosity of the current is greatly increased, and the interest of the scene proportionably augmented. Immediately opposite the High Tor is a hill of less steep ascent, but of greater elevation, called Masson Hill, a pile of immense crags, it has received the name of the Heights of Abram, from its resemblance to the celebrated place of that name, near Quebec: from this spot the view is very extensive, taking in the whole of the dale in a bird's-eye view.*. See an interesting account of Eyam, and its Church, among the Derbyshire hills, in the Saturday Magazine, Vol. I., p. 129. MATLOCK HIGH TOR. LONDON: Published by JOHN WILLIAM PARKER, WEST STRAND; and sold by all Booksellers. 74 SOME ACCOUNT OF THE CITY OF COPENHAGEN. COPENHAGEN, the capital of the kingdom of Denmark, is a well-built city, situated on the eastern shore of Zealand, which is the largest of the cluster of islands that stretch across the mouth of the Baltic, and leave only three narrow passages (those of the Sound, the Great Belt, and the Little Belt,) by which ships can enter into it from the North Sea. In the language of the country this metropolis is called Kiobenhavn-a contracted form of a compound which literally signifies Merchants' Haven, or Harbour; and this appellation it obtained at an early period, from being resorted to by persons engaged in commerce. It is a regularly-fortified city, being protected on the land-side by a connected chain of bastions, and a broad deep ditch, while towards the sea it possesses powerful defences, of which not the least formidable are those celebrated under the name of the Crown Batteries. ITS EARLY HISTORY, THE origin of this city is similar to that of many of the great commercial cities of northern Europe. In the eleventh century, it was scarcely more than a fishingstation, and consisted of little but a few huts. In 1168, however, the famous Bishop Axel, or Absalon, a celebrated character in the twelfth century, having obtained a grant of the place from the Danish sovereign, fortified the harbour, and, on a small neighbouring island, built a castle which served to defend it from the attacks of the numerous pirates then infesting the Baltie, The advantage of these measures was soon felt; Copenhagen increased quickly in population and importance; and before the lapse of a century, was surrounded with ramparts and ditches. About the year 1284, it was thought worthy to receive the privileges of a town; and at length, in 1443, became a city, and the residence of the Danish court. Copenhagen has frequently experienced the miseries of war. In the year 1523, Frederick, Duke of Holstein, supported by a fleet of ships from Lubeck, invested it, and, after a close siege of seven months, compelled the inhabitants to surrender, and in 1536 the city underwent a similar fate, amidst the troubles arising from the disputed succession to the crown of Denmark, In subsequent times, the constant jealousy existing between that country and Sweden, frequently endangered the safety of this capital, and exposed its people to great injury. Charles Gustavus blockaded it in the early part of his reign, after having accomplished the bold and daring enterprise of marching his whole army across the Little Belt to the island of Funen, and thence to Zealand, on the ice; the Danes were forced to conclude an inglorious peace, which, however, the Swedish monarch chose soon to break. In the war which then ensued, the siege of Copenhagen constitutes a prominent feature; the city was vigorously attacked and stormed by the Swedish troops, but all their efforts were rendered unsuccessful, by the bravery of the citizens and students. In 1700, during the reign of Frederick the Fourth, Copenhagen was again besieged by a Swedish army, under the renowned Charles the Twelfth, who took up arms to defend his relative, the Duke of Holstein, from the aggression of the Danish monarch, The inhabitants, in the absence of their sovereign, sent deputies to Charles, requesting that he would not bombard their town; to this request he consented to accede, on the condition that they gave him instantly a large sum of money, and brought regularly to his camp all kinds of provisions, for which, however, he, on his part, engaged to pay punctually. As soon as Frederick learned that his capital was in such imminent danger, he published an edict, in which he promised freedom to all who, in any part of his dominions, should take up arms against the Swedes. Charles, upon learning this, informed the Danish monarch that he only made war, to oblige his majesty to make peace; and that he must either do justice to the Duke of Holstein, or submit to have his capital destroyed, and his kingdom laid waste by fire and sword. Frederick chose the former alternative, and quickly concluded a peace. From this period Copenhagen enjoyed uninterrupted security, until the celebrated attack under Lord Nelson, in 1801; but to this event, which forms one of the most brilliant triumphs THE BATTLE OF COPENHAGEN. DURING the turbulent times which followed immediately upon the French Revolution, Denmark remained tranquil, refusing to engage in the wars which convulsed the rest of Europe. But when, at the commencement of the present century, the power of France seemed irresistible on the continent, the secret inclinations of the court broke out, and Denmark united with Russia and Sweden in a confederacy, the object of which was to make England resign her naval rights. Such a combination, under the influence of France, would soon have become formidable to England, for the parties to it possessed ships and men, and all the materials of a powerful opposition to her maritime supremacy; the British cabinet, therefore, resolved at once to crush it. A fleet was accordingly sent to the Baltic early in 1801, under Sir Hyde Parker, with Nelson as his second in command. On its arrival off the Sound, much precious time was wasted in futile attempts at negotiation, and in doubts as to whether it would be better to force that passage in spite of the fortifications which lined its shores, or to attempt an entry by the Great Belt. Nelson saw the evil of this delay; "Let it be by the Sound, by the Belt, or anyhow," cried he, “only lose not an hour!"" At length, on the 30th of March, the fleet moved into the Sound, Nelson leading the van: as the ships passed along, they kept the mid-channel between the hostile coasts, all cleared for action; but the Swedish batteries were silent, so that they were enabled to get out of reach of the guns on the Danish shore, and pass without damage. On their arrival off Copenhagen, the enemy's means of defence were quickly reconnoitred, and found to be formidable; upwards of an hundred pieces of cannon were mounted upon the Crown Batteries at the entrance of the harbour, and a line of twenty-five two-deckers, frigates, and floating batteries, was moored across its mouth. Nelson offered his services for the attack; they were accepted, and Sir Hyde Parker gave him twelve sail-of-the-line, and all the smaller craft, to conduct it with. The channel of approach was little known, and extremely intricate, a difficulty which the Danes considered insuperable. But Nelson saw with his own eye the soundings made, and the buoys laid down, boating it upon this exhausting service day and night till it was effected. The battle was fought on the 2nd of April. It began at five minutes after ten; the first half of the squadron was engaged in about half an hour, and by halfpast eleven the action became general. The plan of attack had been complete; but its execution was prevented by several untoward accidents. Three of the ships grounded; and owing to the fears of the masters and pilots, the anchors were let go nearly at the distance of a cable's length from the enemy. Had they proceeded, they would have deepened their water, and the victory would have been decided in half the time. Nelson was extremely agitated when he saw his force thus materially weakened; but every painful thought was soon lost in the excitement of action. Of all the engagements in which he had borne a part, this, he said, was the most terrible. Three hours had elapsed, and the enemy's fire was unslackened. A shot through the mainmast knocked a few splinters about the admiral, who was pacing the quarter-deck. "It is warm work," he observed to one of his officers with a smile, "and this day may be the last to any of us at a moment. But mark you!" added he with emotion, stopping short at the gangway, "I would not be elsewhere for thousands." About this time, the signal-lieutenant called out that No. 39 (the signal for discontinuing the action,) was thrown out by the commander-in-chief, who was with the rest of the fleet four miles off. Nelson continued to walk the deck, and appeared to take no notice of it. The signal-officer met him at the next turn, and asked if he should repeat it. "No," he replied, "acknowledge it." Presently he called after him, to know if the signal for close action was still hoisted; and being answered in the affirmative, said, |