to put him down with: "Hold your tongue, Harry, you are a puny little fool, and fit for nothing but to be a lord." Nevertheless, John never allowed any person to speak disrespectfully of him.

Harry died of diseases which seemed to have been rocked with him in his cradle; while John, though possessed of a vigorous constitution, after arriving at the acmé of popularity, at least so far as related to all with whom he associated, and after performing feats in various exercises, which denoted the vastness of his powers, seemed to descend, as it were, down a precipice into his grave. He never, indeed, got completely better of the pistol shot in his breast; and, probably, actuated by that mistaken pride, generally urging men who have done wonders, not to allow their decrease of vigour to be noticed or suspected, he neglected the warnings given him by one or two serious attacks on his liver, and thus hastened that end which we may call untimely.

He died in the 40th year of his age, beloved and regretted by a numerous circle. I believe, setting aside the dissipation in which he delighted, he could not leave any past reckoning of vices to appear against him His heart was formed for friendship. He was warm in his attachments, which were, however, very select; and, notwithstanding the peculiar bluntness of his manner, I cannot say I ever heard him utter a rude thing, or do an uncharitable act.

Such are the outlines of a man, who, had he been bred in courts, would probably have been the Rochester of his day; for he was inordinately fond of women; and seemed, when ill, to regret his situation chiefly as depriving him of their society.

INSTINCT OF SHEEP.

AMONG the speculations which occupy the intelligent, few are more generally interesting than those which relate to the manners of animals; but these can only be ascertained by familiarity with the creatures themselves, which does not usually happen to gentlemen who are accustomed to communicate their sentiments to the publick. We therefore take the opportunity of extracting, from works that have lately passed under our hands, such particulars as appear to us to deserve notice, in reference to that very important animal the sheep. Lit Panorama.

The extensive mountains which form so considerable a portion of the whole county of Brecknock, are covered with innumerable flocks of sheep. The habits and manners of these animals and their keepers are little known to the world at large, and much less to the learned part of the community. After long hesitation and frequent doubts, courts of justice have at last agreed, though apparently against their conviction, to admit, that those who have been accustomed to the care of sheep can indentify their counte nance, and describe with precision their general shape and make; but it is clear, that though juries give implicit credit to this kind of evidence, yet many gentlemen of the long robe entertain strong suspicions, either that these witnesses are too bold in their assertions, or else that there must be some mystery in this knowledge, which neither learning, nor great reading, can fathom. When the difference between one sheep and another in a flock is pointed out to them, it is acknowledged for a moment; “but,” say these learned scepticks, "if the same animals be shown us a second.

time at the interval of an hour or two, we cannot recognise those features with which we believed we had formed an acquaintance." The same consequences would follow if an equal number of men were assembled, we'll suppose, at a fair or market; and they would be much more certain, if as many soldiers, or persons in the same dress, were drawn up in a line; if any two or three were pointed out at random, who had no striking, or uncommon, peculiarity of features, and the beholder could be spun round like a top, it is ten to one that when the rotary motion ceased, he would not be able to identify them a second time; but that there is as great variety in feature, in shape, and in make, as well as in disposition, in the brute creation, as there is in the human form and mind, will be as clear and as evident on minute investigation, as any problem in geometry. The shepherd who has been accustomed to follow his flocks, to watch them late and early, and to study their habits and manners, preserves the perfect recollection of them; without scientifick, or systematick, order, it is true, but with unerring accuracy. He is competent not only to mark their physiognomy, but to discriminate their voices, and even to develop their characters. He describes one as active, another as slothful, a third as thievish, another honest, one is domestick, another given to straying; nay, though their disposition be in general gregarious, some are more sociable than others; some are frequently seen grazing at a distance, though in sight of the flock, as if courting the protection of their neighbours in the hour of danger, though shy of their company, in their general demeanour and habits.

If there can be any doubt of the intimate knowledge which this class of men possess on the subject, let an experiment be made, from which no skilful shepherd will ever flinch. Let a flock be driven from the mountains or their pastures, with their lambs; let them be divided; the dams placed in one fold, and the young in another, out of the sight and hearing of each other; and then let the shepherd be introduced, for the first time, and he will instantly select the dam and her young one, or vice versa, and bring them together, without erring once in a hundred times. The most skilful physiognomist will hesitate before he tries the same experiment with man

kind.

Nor are these animals themselves without talents or without peculiarities. Their general characteristick is, an amiable mildness, which submits, without complaint, to every injury they may sustain from either man or the brute creation. When they are accompanied by their young, they appear to assume a courage, which is almost ludicrous, when we know how short lived it is likely to be. The dam, placing her offspring in the rear, turns round, looks at the barking cur, stamps with her foot, as if challenging an attack and provoking the affray. Nav, even the whole flock form something like martial array, and put on "a swaggering outside;" but, the moment the enemy charges, they disperse in all directions, seek their safety in flight, and become the same defenceless creatures as they are during the greatest part of their lives. Their dispositions, however, vary in different parts of the kingdom. In England they are docile and domestick. They may there be confined by enclosures, and are patient of control. They are driven into their nightly folds, without difficulty, and are collected without labour by the shepherd, while ours in Wales resemble their aboriginal masters, in manners, and in their mode of life. While they are depastured in fields and low lands, and boundaries are prescribed to them, they have a mischievous activity, which baffles human ingenuity to correct. Place them on a mountain, where they are apparently free, and

may roam whither they please, and they stick to a favourite spot, as if they were surrounded by a wall. Here again the lawyer stumbles when he hears that a sheep is stolen from a hill; he cannot be persuaded to believe that they can be localized in such a wild and open country; but the fact is, that after they have been accustomed to graze upon a particular part of a mountain, if they are not disturbed when at rest at nights, they are prisoners by choice, and cannot be removed from thence without difficulty. This is perfectly well understood, by proprietors of sheep in this country, who sometimes avail themselves of their knowledge in a very artful manWhen there is a right of intercommoning, which is frequently the case here, the shepherd who wishes to prevent a new flock from depasturing on the same bank, or hill, with those called the old settlers, comes at the dusk, or in the middle of the night, rattles some stones which he carries in his pockets, throws up his hat, or takes up clods and throws them about him, in all directions. This, one would suppose, disturbs his own sheep, as well as his neighbour's. It is, indeed, particularly disa greeable and unpleasant to both; but the new settlers, not being so much accustomed, and of course not so much attached, to the spot, give up the walk, and leave it in the sole possession of the old occupiers.

When sheep are first driven to the hills from the low grounds, the old sheep, with that affection which is, however, not peculiar to this animal, mount to the highest eminence, and leave, or rather confine, the yearlings and youngest to the lowest part of the hill, showing them by their conduct, perhaps informing them in their language, that they are not so capable of enduring cold, as those which have been accustomed to a more bleak and elevated situation. It is very certain, also, that Providence has implanted in them, for the preservation of their species, a presentiment of the approach of hard weather, particularly of snow, sometimes so fatal to them. A da; or two before it falls they are observed to avoid the ditches and other situations where drifts are likely to be formed, and sometimes, though seldom, they have been known to quit the hills entirely, to overleap all enclosures, and to come down into the vales a day before a storm commenced.—There is also a peculiarity, as it is said, in the sheep bred in Glamorganshire, when sold and delivered into Brecknockshire, which is very remarkable; but, incredible as it appears, it is attested by the universal voice of those who are conversant in this species of traffick. They assert, positively, that if a lot of sheep be brought from the former country into the latter, the purchaser is obliged to watch them for a considerable time, more narrowly, and with greater care, than the other part of his flocks. They say, that when the wind is from the south, they smell it, and, as if recognising their native air, they instantly meditate an escape. It is certain, whatever may be the cause, that they may be descried sometimes standing on the highest eminence, turning up their noses, and apparently snuffing up the gale. Here they remain, as it were, ruminating for some time, and then, if no im pediment occurs, they scour with impetuosity along the waste, and never stop, until they reach their former homes. Jones's History of Brecknockshire, f. 320, &c.

Let the farmer take the ewes of each distinct hill, hop, or ridge, and, about the middle of July, select from each of these divisions of the best lambs, a number sufficient to replace the aged, infirm, and eild of that certain department. Let these be kept in a parcel by themselves, or with the eild sheep, until the milk is gone from the ewes, and then turn them again at large to pasture, with the old sheep, each on his own native

hill all the rest of their lives; for no sooner are they set at liberty, than they draw to their respective places, and commonly again join their dam and former acquaintances. Thus, in a few years, every little department of the farm becomes stocked with a distinct clan of friends, who will in no wise separate; and though they be ever so thoroughly mixed with other clans during the day, they will all sunder voluntarily, and draw to their own layers at even.

It is very wonderful, that though a number of individuals of a flock often go quite blind for months together, very few of them will stray from their own walk. Nay, unless when they lose themselves during the first three days, they are as sure to be found at home as any of the parcel. Their necessity teaches them a wonderful sagacity, in following the rest of the flock by the scent; and a friend generally attaches itself to the sufferer, waiting on it with the most tender assiduity, and, by its bleating, calls it back from danger, and from going astray.

Coarse whale oil drives away flies, although they have settled on sheep, and torment the whole fold. Hogg on Sheep.

To the Editor of the Literary Panorama.

INVESTIGATION OF CERTAIN PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE, ON PRINCIPLES NOT
HITHERTO ADOPTED.

SIR,

IT gives me pleasure to be informed, that any of your correspondents, although most are, I doubt not, more learned than myself, should have expressed satisfaction with those feeble efforts which, in compliance with your solicitation, I transmitted for your work. Being thus incidentally drawn into a correspondence, I beg leave to submit a conjecture of mine, to the opinion of those to whose judgment I readily defer.

It is well known that many verbal variations are found in the present MS. copies of our Sacred Books: and much diligence and learning have lately been employed, very laudably, in ascertaining those variations. It is known also, that conjecture has been extremely busy in forming suppositions as to their origin and causes: but although almost all kinds of imaginations have been indulged on this subject, nobody, so far as I know, has proposed the notion of a second edition of an inspired writer's works having been published by himself. Yet, if we reflect on the question without prejudice, we shall not discover, as I apprehend, any valid reason to the contrary.

It cannot, indeed, be considered as very likely, that St. Paul should go over the whole of the epistles which he wrote, with a view to their publication in one body; because, we know that they were, many of them, written on the spur of the occasion, and that he was almost continually changing his residence. Nevertheless, he might, when at Rome, for instance, keep copies of those letters which he sent into Greece. These he might review and revise, occasionally, and might give, to persons who desired copies of his writings, permission to transcribe from MSS. so revised by himself. What is there in this, contrary to good faith? Do we not see it done every day by writers of the highest repute, without the smallest imputation? If any one objects, that the very words of the first edition being inspired they could not be varied without guilt; I answer, that even our blessed Lord himself did repeat his sentiments a second time, in words not the

same as those which he had used the first time; not from any imperfection in the phrases which he had at first adopted, but from condescension to the understandings of his hearers, who had, as he perceived, misunderstood, or not fully comprehended, his meaning. And, what he, who was inspiration itself, did in speaking, why should not his apostles do in writing?

It is probable that St. Paul, when writing to the Corinthians, for instance, would use Greek terms, current in Corinth, in the same sense as they were used in that city; whether or not those identical words expressed the same identical ideas, without variation, at Athens, at Rome, or elsewhere than at Corinth. We know that nearly or quite every city in Britain has some phrases, or terms, which are employed by its citizens, in their own peculiar sense. Suppose then, a person at Rome was desirous of perusing St. Paul's letter to the Corinthians; would it not become the writer to explain in what sense such or such a Corinthian word was used by him, or to substitute such other word as the Roman reader would understand to express the sentiment or idea intended? This is not only no impeachment of the moral character of the apostle, but, whether it would not, on the contrary, have been such an impeachment, had he put into the hands of his reader, words which he would not understand, or would understand in a wrong sense, may be submitted, without hesitation, to the judgment of your readers.

It is not, however, principally in reference to St. Paul, that I propose the present hints. He was an active man: but, if there was another apostle who was more stationary, who for many years together resided in the same city, whose life was lengthened out to extreme old age, who was solicited to write, and who, in compliance with such solicitations, did write his last work, is there any thing unlikely or unnatural in the conjecture, that when he published his last work, he also revised his former works, and delivered this revision, together with his new production, to those persons who had urged him to favour them with these labours? Would any body suppose there was any harm in his publishing a second edition of tracts, composed by him fifteen or twenty years before? But, to bring this question to the test of an instance:

Whoever has attentively perused the first Epistle of St. John, must have remarked, that the language perpetually fluctuates from time present "I write"-to time past " I have written." Let us try the two first chapters: chapter I. verse 4. these things write we: chap. II. 1. I write: 7. I write : 8. I write: 12. I write: 13. I write: 14. I have written: 21. I have written; 26. I have written.

I think it absolutely impossible, that any author would change his phrase from "I have written," in his first edition to "I write" in the second edition. He would never adopt that form of the verb. But I see no improbability in supposing, that, in his second edition, he might vary the "I write" of the first, to "I have written."

I think it extremely unlikely, that any author, having stated a position both affirmatively and negatively, in his first edition, would diminish the effect of his statement, by expunging either branch in his second edition; but, I see no improbability of his adding to the strength of his first edition, by rendering the second more complete: for instance, chap. II. 23.

FIRST EDITION.

Whosoever denieth the Son, the same hath not the Father.

SECOND EDITION.

Whosoever denieth the Son, the same hath not the Father, (but) He that acknowledgeth the Son the same hath the Father also.