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3,580 tons less than in 1828. Of lead, the exports have been 510 tons more than in 1829, and 1,199 tons less than in 1828. The exports of tin exhibit a decrease of 129 tons in the preceding year, and an increase of 284 tons on 1828. Those of steel are three tons less than in 1829, and 107 tons more than 1828. The imports of foreign copper appear to have fallen off; those of last year did not amount to a third of the preceding year's. The imports in Spanish lead have decreased likewise. There were 565 tons last year against 1,707 tons in 1829, and 2,300 tons in 1828. Banca tin pre

sents a large increase of imports, being 540 tons, a quantity equal to the imports of the three previous years. With the exception of quicksilver, the amount of stocks of articles above enumerated were much the same on the 31st of December last as on the previous two years. The stock of quicksilver has exceeded that of 1829 by 663,620lbs., and that of 1828 by 635,270lbs.

HALLEY'S COMET, OR THE COMET OF 1834.-There are few comets which are visible to the naked eye; and on this account the comet, whose return figures among the calculated memorabilia of the year 1834, is entitled to an early and special notice. Of the heavenly creations of its own class, it is of this one that it can be predicted with the greatest certainty, that it travels round the sun, and that we are accurately acquainted with the period of its revolution— facts which are the result of four several opportunies which the world has enjoyed of watching its course. So far as modern observations reach, this comet was seen, for the first time, in the year 1465, and it approached to the distance of 11,700,000 miles from the sun, on the 8th of June in that year. It came near the earth, and under very favourable circumstances; presenting itself with peculiar splendour and remarkable brilliancy; travelling with a tail which extended over a third portion of the firmament, and affording a spectacle of far greater beauty than it has ever exhibited since those times. Its next appearance was 1531; and, on the 25th day of August, it was at a distance of 11,600,000 miles from the sun. The period of its revolution was, therefore, ascertained to be seventy-five years, two months, and seventeen days. Its appearance differed greatly from that just described. Appian, who observed it, relates that it had no tail whatever, but was what is termed a bearded cometits whole circumference being encircled by an equal effulgence at every point; and, inasmuch as this halo had no defined edging, it appeared to be hairy or bearded. Calculating each of its revolutions at seventy-five years, the return

of this comet might have been predicted for the year 1606 or 1607; and, in fact, it did return, for a third time, in 1607. It approached nearest to the sun on the 26th of October, when it was 11,750,000 miles distant from it. The period of its revolution had consequently been seventysix years, two months, and one day-one twelvemonth longer than the preceding: whence it is obvious, that its progress had been disturbed by some planet, or other strange body. It was of considerable magnitude, its head being of the size of the planet Jupiter; but its light was weak and nebulous: it had a long tail, and this was also feeble in its rays, as if overcast with vapours. This calculation was confirmed by its reappearance again in 1682, when its nearest approximation to the sun took place on the 14th of September, on which day it was distant from it 11,650,000 miles. It was now, for the first time, observed, with any degree of accuracy, by Halley, from whom it has consequently been denominated " Halley's Comet." This astronomer compared the results of his several observations with those made on the comets of the years 1607 and 1531, and found them closely to correspond with one another; from which he was led to infer, that the three appearances belonged to one and the same body. On this occasion, its revolution amounted to seventy-four years, ten months, and eighteen days—giving a mean duration of seventy-five years and one half. Halley predicted the return of the comet in the year 1759 at first, however, it seemed as if the event would not realize the prediction, as the comet was tardy in appearing; but, to the delight of every astronomer, it became visible at last, and put an end to the doubt which had hitherto existed as to the durable nature of such bodies as comets. It attained its solar elevation on the 13th of March, when its distance from the sun was 11,650,000 miles, and was of inferior size to what it had been on its last appearance. Its tail was but lightly illuminated, and not discernible, except when the sky was clear; on which account no precise judgment could be formed of its length: the weakness of its irradiation was principally owing to its unfavourable position. Its last revolution had been seventy-six years and six months. It may reasonably be asked, why the comet consumed a whole twelvemonth more in its revolution than was natural to it? To this it may be answered, and upon very accurate calculation, that it first displayed itself close upon the planet Jupiter, which influenced and retarded its movement. Hence it appeared at a somewhat later period than Halley had foretold. The return of the comet in our

own days ought to take place in the year 1834; but it is possible that it may be so influenced by Saturn and Uranus, as not to make its appearance before 1835 or even 1836. Numberless calculations have already been formed on this event; and we must leave it to time to pronounce which of them are correct. Neither can we pre-determine what will be the degree of its brilliancy, or the exent and splendour of its tail these are matters which seem to depend on circumstances beyond the sphere of our present knowledge.

THE PENITENT'S RETURN.

My father's house once more,

In its own moonlight beauty! Yet around,
Something, amidst the dewy calm profound,
Broods, never mark'd before!

Is it the brooding night?

Is it the shivery creeping on the air,

That makes the home, so tranquil and so fair,
O'erwhelming to my sight?

All solemnized it seems,

And still'd, and darken'd in each time-worn hue,
Since the rich clustering roses met my view,
As now, by starry gleams.

And this high elm, where last

I stood and linger'd-where my sisters made
Our mother's bower-I deem'd not that it cast
So far and dark a shade!

How spirit-like a tone

Sighs through yon tree! My father's place was there
At evening-hours, while soft winds waved his hair!
Now those gray locks are gone!

My soul grows faint with fear,!

Even as if angel-steps had mark'd the sod.
I tremble where I move-the voice of God

Is in the foliage here!

Is it indeed the night

That makes my home so awful! Faithless hearted!
'Tis that from thine own bosom hath departed

The in-born gladdening light!

No outward thing is changed;

Only the joy of purity is fled,

And, long from Nature's melodies estranged,
Thou hear'st their tones with dread.

Therefore, the calm abode

By thy dark spirit is o'erhung with shade, ́
And, therefore, in the leaves, the voice of God
Makes thy sick heart afraid!

The night-flowers round that door

Still breathe pure fragrance on the untainted air;
Thou, thou alone, art worthy now no more
To pass, and rest thee there!

And must I turn away?

-Hark, hark!-it is my mother's voice I hear,
Sadder than once it seem'd-yet soft and clear-
Doth she not seem to pray?

My name!-I caught the sound!

Oh! blessed tone of love-the deep, the mild-
Mother, my mother! Now receive thy child;

Take back the Lost and Found!-MRS. HEMANS.

VANITY.-The vanity of mankind has been deplored by almost every speculatist, yet it is one of those subjects which will ever supply the intellect with fresh observation; for if it is not an universal, it is at least one of the general passions; and, although the wisest maxims have been aimed towards its suppression, it still retains too large an interest in the human bosom; nor would it be an untruth or exaggeration to add, that in some degree its influence eclipses the brilliance of every character.

Vanity is a vice which we imbibe early and eradicate late, and its operations on the mind, like poison acting on a body, swell it to a preternatural distension; and hence the towerings of conceit, and the arrogance of pride. It is the product of ambition by a hag, whose name is Envy; and I am sometimes apt to think that common vanity is a constitutional aggrievance; there are a thousand ways whereby this preposterous inclination of the heart is heightened, and innumerable arts by which the sparks of vanity are ventilated into a blaze. Flattery is the most violent of all inflammations, and, of every disorder, will the soonest cause a fever of the soul. The imagination of man is easily fired by unmerited applause, catches eagerly at those vulgar adulations which result either from interest, partiality, or folly. Flattery is the food of pride, and may be well assimilated to those cordials which hurt the constitution, while they exhilarate the spirits. He who has been often the slave of flattery will soon sink into the most disgraceful dependence; and, like the drunken man, he must always have recourse to the cause of his intoxication, merely to prevent the sinkings of his heart.

It is usual in this, and in the neighbouring nation, to be exceedingly soft in the moment of salutation and address; yet the polite are not sufficiently aware how near allied what

fashion calls compliment is to downright lying. There is a wide difference betwixt civility and a profusion of professions. It is inconceivable how the natural vanity of some is heated by the insignificance of common compliments. Hence they are proud of such parts of their characters which in truth have the most defection; and hence, we frequently see beauty clouded by affectation, youth cherishing its follies, and age the dupe of dotage and opinion.

Reason would lead us to think, and some writers have supposed, that men are commonly vain in proportion to their ignorance. That silly characters are often conceited ones, is undoubtedly true; but those who possess the most brilliant abilities, and whom the public have allowed incontestible superiority over the general mass of mankind, are very often the slaves of this sweet infatuation; the refinements of genius, and the delicacy of feeling, together with the sensibility of their hearts, may perhaps contribute to this weakness; yet whatever is the cause, I have had the greatest reasons, in the course of my remarks on life, to pronounce the race of authors (generally speaking) the most addicted to the vice which it is a part of their character to endeavour to reclaim.

There is nothing at once so painful and intolerable a mortification to a man of literary talents, as to show a civil indifference to the darling of his pen nor any pleasure so agreeably soothing, as to mark such sentiments with a warm encomium, which he himself has distinguished as (in his opinion) deserving particular celebrity. It has been sometimes my misfortune to see an unhappy bard almost blasted by silence, where he expected to receive the full thunder of public acclamation: and I have also seen his eyes glow with pleasure as the whispered compliments have passed through a company, who had been surprised with the entrance of a man, whom the greatest part knew only by his works, and whose vanity they therefore gratified, by communicating their intelligence from one to another,"that, that is he!"

It cannot but be allowed that this impatience of praise proceeds from an ambition of superiority, and that it is, in the strict sense, an evidence of vanity, yet it is certainly of the most warrantable kind, and less deserves our censure than any other; for we are easily inclined to admit the apologies of him whose weaknesses are not malicious to others, but hurtful to himself; and who errs rather from the natural love of dignity and consequence, than from any motives that

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