It is impossible to contemplate these scenes without casting a glance at the other personages who have acted, and are still acting a part in this tragedy; but I cannot think of degrading those already named, so far as to have the others mentioned in the same page. On a future occasion it is not impofsible but I may add a few words on that disagreeable subject; for though it be exceedingly disgusting, it is at present of great importance.

UNCOMMON FACT IN NATURAL HISTORY.

SIR,

To the Editor of the Bee. NATURAL history ought to be studied as a collec tion of facts, and not as the history of theories and opinions of philosophers, oftentimes vague and illfounded. It does not always depend upon the intrinsic degree of probability in the phenomena observed, but rather upon facts founded on the testimony of people of known veracity. The following fact is submitted to your readers, and the writer would be well pleased to find a probable conjecture of its cause in some future number of your work.

A few days ago, a large beech tree was sawing up into planks in a ship builder's yard here. The tree was about twenty-six inches diameter, and of so fine a quality as to attract the notice of some gentlemen accidentally passing by; one of whom, on examining it, observed, near its center, a part apparently rotten; but on closer inspection he found the blemish was occasioned by a hazel nut being completely enveloped in the substance of the wood. The part

whereof, that immediately surrounded it, being soft, the nut was easily taken out, perfectly entire and sound; the colour only a little darker than the nut when a few weeks pulled off the tree. The nut has, since its being dried, fhrunk a little, and has opened nearly its whole length so wide as to fhow the kernel to all appearance fresh. It may be added, that there was not the least communication to the cavity in which the nut was preserved, from the external part of the tree, in any direction whatever.

Leith, Feb. 11. 1793.

M.

EXPLANATION OF THE PHENOMENON.

Though the phenomenon above described be very uncommon, it is not so difficult to be accounted for as many that daily occur in contemplating the objects that present themselves to our view. Wood is formed by an accretion of matter all on the surface of the tree, forming each year a ring all round, of more or less thickness, in proportion to circumstances; which rings, in most kinds of wood, are distinctly seen in a transverse section of the tree, and form the fibres of it when slit longitudinally. When one of these rings is once formed, it remains ever after of the same dimensions, and comes gradually to be placed at a greater and greater distance from the circumference of the tree, as the age of it increases ; so that what was once the surface, comes to be very near the center of the tree. Now whatever matter is stuck into the tree, and remains firmly fixed there, comes to be gradually covered by the rings of wood that grow over and cover it; and if the matter of this extraneous substance be not of a corro

tree.

Feb. 28. sive nature, the wound heals over it entirely, and the wood, above the substance enveloped, becomes equal, ly firm and sound with that of any other part of the The truth of these observations is daily seen in regard to the knots of fir wood, all of which are the remains of branches which once grew upon the tree, and while they remained there interrupted the continuity of the longitudinal fibres. These branches, cut off, or broken over by any accident, be come from that moment stationary in their growth; and as the fibrous rings increase, they gradually heal over the transverse section of these branches; so that the outer part of the wood, which has been formed over these, is perfectly free of knots, though these are perceived towards the center. This is the reason why all kinds of deal discover a much greater num ber of knots near the center than near the circumference of the tree. Now the nut in question has, by some accident, been indented into the surface of the tree while it was yet young; and, like the remains of a branch, has been gradually healed over ; after which it has remained safely embedded in the wood till it was discovered by the sawers. From the researches here stated, it is plain there could be no opening into it. It is not at all a difficult matter to contrive thus to inclose in the heart of a tree an inscription of any sort, upon a piece of dead wood, which might be preserved undiscovered till future ages.

A DETACHED REMARK.

That man is my sincere friend, who will vindicate me behind my back, and tell my faults to my face.

HUMAN LIFE.

WRITTEN ON THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR 1792.

Now

ow has another year fulfill'd its course,
And in eternity's capacious gulph

Its fleeting days has lodged. Yet a few years,
A few revolving years, the space complete
Of frail man's destin'd course; forth he is sent
Into the world, fraught with the gayest hopes
Of scenes of happiness and future blifs.
All nature smiles around; echo the hills,
And every sense, and every thought is joy!
The vernal sun which gilds the morn of life,
His race pursues unwearied, and attains
Meridian splendour. Then the soul expands,
And catches transport from the summer's gale,
Which fans the mead in Phoebus' scorching ray.
Tir'd of this visible diurnal scene,
Imagination then unbounded soars!

Our earth, and all it's cares, leaves far behind;

Travels through worlds unseen, through paths unknown,

Sees forms of being varied as the stars

Which gild yon concave heav'n's resplendent arch:

Thence from effect, arises to the cause,

Of life, and happiness the common source.

But lo! the scene is chang'd, the sun declines;
For oft, amid the radiance of the sky,
The howling tempest, or the chilling blast
Of autumn, intervenes, to damp the soul,
1. DAnd cool the fervour of our noontide joys;
Till winter, cold and cheerlefs, makes approach,
The phantoms of the spring to chace away;
For fancied good, to give substantial ill;
The proud to teach that they are only men,
To check presumptuous man's aspiring hopes,
And fhew that happiness is but a dream.

The sun, his strength now spent, sinks in the west,
And fhuts the drama of our fhort-liv'd day.

Thus flourishes and fades majestic man,

And such the destiny of all on earth.

Shall then drear sable night for ever last,

Nor morn her cheering ray again impart ?

What, though dull night and silence long prevail,
Fair morn's pure dawn their clouds fhall sure dispel,
And ufher in on our transported sight

The glories of a never ending day!

The beatuies of a scene for ever new!

Where virtue, peace, and harmony, shall dwell;
And in one common anthem all unite

To celebrate the great Creator's praise.

Edin. Jan. 1. 1793.

MARCELLUS.

VERSES WRITTEN BY ELVINA.

For the Bee.

No longer death I tremble at thy pow'r,
No longer fhrink affrighted from thy dart, -
But, lo! to thee my joyless breast 1 bare,

O quickly pierce this wounded tortur'd heart!

For one dear child, alone, I wish'd to live,

That I might rear her steps in virtue's way;
Her youth to innocence and truth might form,
And point the path unto eternal day.

This darling child in whom my soul was bound,
Whom love and nature twisted round my heart,
Is dead!-

Why do I hang o'er my pale infant's corpse,
And clasp it to my breast with tearful eye?
We try to animate her pallid lips,

When the sweet babe's a cherubim on high!

No fears to leave her friendless fill my mind,
And give keen anguish to approaching death;

Joyful my soul will rise to her abode,

While this weak frame moulders with her in earth.