size, color, shape, weight, and value of any article whatever. A person possessed of one is thus saved from the necessity of asking a thousand questions, and trying a variety of troublesome experiments, which would otherwise be necessary; and such a slow and laborious process would, after all, not succeed half so well as a single application of this admirable instrument."

GEORGE. If they are such very useful things, I wonder that every body, that can at all afford it, does not have one.

FATHER. They are not so uncommon as you may suppose; I myself happen to know several individuals who are possessed of one or two of them. CHARLES. HOW large is it, father? could I hold it in my hand?

FATHER. You might: but I should be very sorry to trust mine with you!

GEORGE. You will be obliged to take very great care of it then?

FATHER. Indeed I must: I intend every night to enclose it within the small skreen I mentioned; and it must besides occasionally be washed in a certain colorless fluid kept for the purpose; but this is such a delicate operation, that persons, I find, are generally reluctant to perform it. But, notwithstanding the tenderness of this instrument, you will be surprised to hear that it may be dart ed to a great distance, without the least injury, and without any danger of losing it.

CHARLES. Indeed? and how high can you dart it?

FATHER. I should be afraid of telling you to what a distance it will reach, lest you should think I am jesting with you.

GEORGE. Higher than this house, I suppose? FATHER. Much higher.

CHARLES. Then how do you get it again?

FATHER. It is easily cast down by a gentle movement, that does it no injury.

GEORGE. But who can do this?

FATHER. The person whose business it is to take care of it.

CHARLES. Well, I cannot understand you at all; but do tell us, father, what it is chiefly used for.

FATHER. Its uses are so various that I know not which to specify. It has been found very serviceable in deciphering old manuscripts; and, indeed, has its use in modern prints. It will assist us greatly in acquiring all kinds of knowIedge; and without it some of the most sublime parts of creation would have been matters of mere conjecture. It must be confessed, however, that very much depends on a proper application of it; being possessed by many persons who appear to have no adequate sense of its value, but who employ it only for the most low and common purposes, without even thinking, apparently, of the noble uses for which it is designed, or of the exquisite gratifications it is capable of affording. It is, indeed, in order to excite in your minds some higher sense of its value than you might

otherwise have entertained, that I am giving you this previous description.

GEORGE. Well then, tell us something more about it.

FATHER. It is of a very penetrating quality; and can often discover secrets which could be

detected by no other means. It must be owned, however, that it is equally prone to reveal them. CHARLES. What! can it speak then?

FATHER. It is sometimes said to do so, especially when it happens to meet with one of its own species.

GEORGE. What color are they?

FATHER. They vary considerably in this re

spect.

GEORGE. What color is yours?

FATHER. I believe of a darkish

color, but, to

confess the truth, I never saw it in my life.

BOTH. Never saw it in your life!

FATHER. No, nor do I wish; but I have seen a representation of it, which is so exact that my curiosity is quite satisfied.

GEORGE. But why don't you look at the thing itself?

FATHER. I should be in great danger of losing it if I did.

CHARLES. Then you could buy another.

FATHER. Nay, I believe I could not prevail upon any body to part with such a thing.

GEORGE. Then how did you get this one? FATHER. I am so fortunate as to be possessed

of more than one but how I got them I really cannot recollect.

CHARLES. Not recollect! why you said you brought them from London to night.

FATHER. So I did; I should be sorry if I had left them behind me.

CHARLES. Tell, father, do tell us the name of this curious instrument. FATHER. It is called-an EYE.

XXXV.

THE TOAD'S JOURNAL.

It is related by Mr. Belzoni in the interesting narrative of his late discoveries in Egypt, that having succeeded in clearing a passage to the entrance of an ancient temple, which had been for ages buried in the sand, the first object that presented itself, upon entering, was a toad of enormous size; and (if we may credit the assertions of some naturalists respecting the extraordinary longevity of these creatures, when in a state of solitary confinement) we may believe that it was well stricken in years.

Whether the subjoined document was entrusted to our traveller by the venerable reptile as a present to the British Museum, or with the more mercantile view of getting it printed in London,

in preference to Alexandria, on condition of receiving one per cent on the profits, after the sale of the 500th edition, (provided the publisher should by that time be at all remunerated for his risk and trouble,) we pretend not to say. Quite as much as can be vouched for is, the MSS. being faithfully rendered from the original hieroglyphic character.

(The dates are omitted.)

"CRAWLED forth from some rubbish, and wink'd with

one eye;

Half opened the other, but could not tell why:
Stretched out my left leg, as it felt rather queer,
Then drew all together and slept for a year.
Awakened, felt chilly-crept under a stone;
Was vastly contented with living alone.

One toe became wedged in the stone like a peg,
Could not get it away-had the cramp in my leg:
Began half to wish for a neighbor at hand

To loosen the stone, which was fast in the sand;
Pull'd harder-then dozed, as I found 't was no use;—
Awoke the next summer, and lo! it was loose.
Crawled forth from the stone, when completely awake;
Crept into a corner, and grinned at a snake,
Retreated, and found that I needed repose;

Curled up my damp limbs and prepared for a doze:
Fell sounder to sleep than was usual before,
And did not awake for a century or more;
But had a sweet dream, as I rather believe:-
Methought it was light, and a fine summer's eve;
And I in some garden deliciously fed,

In the pleasant moist shade of a strawberry bed.