n converted to burlesque. I thought I should never vive it; but of suicide I thought no more. But nature exhausted, and in spite of my trouble, I fell asleep, woke only at nearly twelve o'clock the next morning, en the maid knocked at my door, telling me the hour, that she had two general-post letters for me, for the tage of which she would thank me, as her mistress had change. I now thought of the few shillings which I I been so anxious to get rid of as useless to me the night ore, and right glad was I of their assistance at this mo nt. The postage was thrust under the door, and the ters were then made over to me through the same chan! I had no mind, indeed, to show my face, if I could vid it. The letters were from my fa her, and my bro7, the ensign. On opening the first, my eyes were tefully surprised by the sight of a twenty-pound note. ch, as I hastily unclosed the envelope, escaped from its finement, unfolding its beauties to my delighted view t fluttered, opening as it fell to the ground, whence I tched it with that eager instinct of affection which ws that if there be such a thing on earth as love at first it, it is the love of a bank-note, whether white, spot, and unprofaned by indorsement; crisp, pure, and naculate in silver papery intact innocence, as it comes a snow-drop from the parent bank; or dirty, blurred, 1 blotted, scribbled, sleazy, greasy, thickened, frowsy, mbed, and languidior betâ, as it comes torn from the d and reluctant hands of doating men. These are the nds it always glads us to see; these are the friends it ays grieves us to part wi h. For my part, I love to see n in any shape; but I have a preference for them in r virgin, undefiled beauty, fresh and fair from Threaddle-street. Such a note was this which flew from the Is of my father's letter, and expanding on the air as it nmed to the ground, blew in an instant to the full ssom-beauty of a twenty pounder. I took it up, folded dear form with a tender and respectful hand, gazed dly at its figure, and reverently committed it to my g widowed pocket-book, then read my father's letter, ich ran in these terms: Dear Henry,-1 trust that the short trial to which I have bjected you will have had the effect of teaching you a lesson worldly prudence, and convincing you of the necessity of >king after the main chance. There is nothing to be done this world, my dear boy, without money; and you must this time have discovered, if I am not greatly mistaken, diffienity of procuring it. There is a road to a certain pendence now open to you; and as you know my wishes, perhaps now better understand your own interests, I am without hopes that you will conquer your romantic nos, and follow it. But decide for yourself. Weigh my siion; consider how many of your brothers and sisters I : to provide for, and how confined are my means; then e your final choice. "If you determine not to do as I wish, e down to us, and we must make the best of a bad busi. Out of my poor resources I will do what I can for but I shall not live for ever, Henry; and while I do live, means of serving those I love are miserably circumscribed. he event of a change of ministry, indeed, I might do some. g for my children, but the Tories seem to be set in for and a long rainy day we Whigs must look for. Adieu, lear boy, be either here or with Mr. W. without delay. bars, &c. J. S. be other letter from my brother, the ensign, was as dear Henry, We know what my father has written to and hope you will be an attorney, and grow devilish rich, teep a famous house in town, where one can come and once in a way. I assure you that a house in town is ich bad thing. Dick Clinton of ours had a brother in who kept a good house, and a devilish comfortable thing s for him, I can tell you. When the rest of us used to ked away in pigeon-holes, up three pair of stairs, at the humberland and the Salopian, and loosing our teeth in ugh slices of cow's hides at sliver-shops, there was Dick ver, living like a fighting cock, at free quarters. Dick's er was worse than an attorney; he was in some shopPasiness or other, but Diek saw nothing of his shop, and d deal of his table, and a deuced good one it was, too. an attorney, Henry, like a good boy, and we'll have some as fun together yet. or old Ponto's dead and gone at last. We buried him with onours of war under the chesnut tree at the old gate. bad news too-Dido got spiked the other day, we don't how, but John Gregson thinks he can cure her. By the your old flirt, Louisa Daventry, was married last Monday onel Drystick, the yellow nabob, that you and she used igh at so unmercifully for insisting on putting the whistcandles on stilts, and sitting on one particular chair, or here at all. Do you recollect the rage he used to get into me when I made a row at backgammon? Well, he's fied to Louisa Daventry, the little mischief; and you | can't imagine what fun it was to see him while the business was doing in church; he was afraid of the cold and damp, you know, and looked so bilious and so miserable with his coat buttoned up to his chin, I'm sure he would have put Louisa's shawl on if she had offered it to him. They have taken Mason's house for a twelvemonth. The match was made, they say, in ten days, from first to last. Double-quick time, a'nt it? But I must stop, for Thomas is going off to the post this instant, and I have given you a famous long letter. I did not think it was in me. Be an attorney, my boy. Yours affectionately, C. S. P.S. James insisted on hunting with the Yowley hounds on Tuesday, and threw down Hermoine at Patly-hill, and broke her knees. This comes of sailoring. My father was devilish mad, but Mam made it up. So then, thought I, for this little jilt and her nonsensical prejudice against black gaiters, I have quarrelled with my kind father, resisted a scheme which undoubtedly has its advantages, and finally attempted my life. A pretty farce it would have been if I had drowned or poisoned myself out of deference to the taste of Mrs. Drystick—Mrs. Devilstick! but she'll be miserable with that parched piece of anatomy, and I don't pity her. But never again will I believe that there's faith in woman. Here followed the usual train of thought which every man perfectly understands, and the whole was wound up by a resolution to forswear love, to comply with my father's wishes, and put myself in regular training at Mr. W.'s How I prevailed upon myself to face the people of my lodging-house, who had witnessed the last night's mock-heroic farce, I can scarcely even now comprehend; but the Epsom salts, (about the first dose of physic I had ever taken within my recollection,) together with the fasting of the preceding day, had left me in a condition of stomach peculiarly favourable to breakfast, and the keenness of my appetite fairly vanquished my sense of shame. I rung the bell, ordered the bill in a peremptory tone, change for a twenty pound note, and breakfast. The change for the note changed the notes of the whole family; they were in a moment all obsequiousness, and no allusion was made to the last night's tragedy; but I fancied, nevertheless, that I saw a suppressed titter on every face. My resolution to attend regularly at Mr. W.'s was more exactly adhered to than my resolution to commit suicide. I was received with every mark of kindness, soon got accustomed to harness, and promised to become a very pains-taking practitioner. I changed my lodging as soon as possible, as they reminded me too strongly of the follies of my days of romance, and I soon became, in every sense of the word, another man. I am now in Mr. W.'s firm, and married to a very amiable woman, who has not, I firmly believe, any ideas of any sort or description on the subject of short black gaiters. This spring Louisa Drystick was in town; we visited her, and found her apparently a very happy wife, and well satisfied with her bargain. I pointed to my boots, and desired her to observe, that short black gaiters were not essential to the person of an attorney. She laughed, and said we were great fools in those days, and I believe she was right. Poetry. [SEE A NOTE TO CORRESPONDENTS.] M'CARTHY'S DREAM, LEGEND OF A BANCHEE, &c. CANTO FIRST. "My muses do not care a pinch of rosin About what's called success, or not succeeding." Don Juan "Omnibus in terris, quæ sunt a Gadibus, usque Auroram et Gangem, pauci dignocere possunt Vera bona Juvenal. While now we see engaged the public mind, Of public fame, where poets wish to hover, An introduction's now the thing we want; Of moderate talents, for it is a cant To cope with Byron, who could briefly scan One that with ease I could lay down in verse; A work appeared (the author Wilson Croker) Or rather rhyme, although not an invoker, In dissipation's gaudy aud deceitful vest, The noon-day sun will not be bright at eve; And bliss and revel, we see, often vary Their luscious scenes for bitterness and grief; Changed into woe, which nothing can relieve: Chirps a sweet note, expands its feathered wing, And flies with equal joy, as does a wife Fly from a husband who wont give her fling ;* Would be the next expense. His spirits lack Their drooping spirits; not before they eried As at Patroclus' wake-'twould be amusing To hear the stories by the gossips told: To hear them all, with charity abusing Their next-door neighbours, would a tale unfold, Fit for a Blackwood, and the mere perusing Of that one passage, would repel the cold Damp drooping gloom that overspreads the spirits Of Englishmen, when dull November visits. A vulgar term for her own way. ↑ Keen is the Irish funeral or death song. The Traveller. LETTERS FROM THE CONTINENT.-No. XVI. (From the Leeds Mercury.) LOME (continued)-PALACES-PICTURE GALLERIES- DEAR Rome, Feb. 12, 1826. Snyders, with an Italian Sun-set by Claude. Yet all this the capital of Tuscany, where he apparently contents him- Though mindful of the promise in my last not to weary In going through the Vatican and Capitoline Museums, you with long description of the remaining edifices of we were brought down from the works of antiquity to Rome, I cannot quit the palaces and villas without nohose of the comparatively modern period, when the arts ticing the garden-house of the Rospigliosi palace, which ourished with so much splendour under Julius II. and is a perfect gem in the fine arts. This is a beautiful little eo X. Both the period and the subject lead me natuerection, one story in height, and containing three goodally to speak next of the Palaces of Ronie, many of which sized apartments. The front is covered with antique basere erected in that age, and in which vast collections of reliefs, so full of expression, vigour, and grace, as to culpture and painting have been accumulated by their throw all modern productions of the same kind into the wners. These palaces form the chief ornament of the shade. The interior contains a small but admirable coltodern city, whose streets, though narrow like those of lection of paintings, and on the ceiling of the principal Il the Italian cities, receive an air of magnificence, som apartment is the famous Aurora of Guido, the most brilare perhaps, yet imposing, from the enormous piles which liant fresco in point of colouring that I ever saw, and one Lower on either side, and whose fronts are sometimes rich, of the most elegant and classical compositions existing. ometimes plain, but always regular and grand. Their Aurora, beaming in youthful beauty, yet with the soberumber is so great, and they lie so dispersed over all parts The Villas of Rome, some of them within the wide cirness of the dawn, flies with the rapidity of light before the f the city, that you find no quarter in Rome, as you find cuit of the city walls, and others in the immediate vici chariot of the sun, scattering flowers in her track, whilst n every other city, entirely abandoned to meanness and nity, are scarcely less splendid than the palaces. They are the clouds and darkness disperse at her approach. The overty. Wander where you will, you are ever in view of nearly all built on elevated situations, so as to command a golden chariot of the sun is guided by Apollo, around ome monument either of ancient or modern grandeur. view of the Campagna and surrounding mountains, and whose head is an intense radiance, and he holds lightly The palaces are seldom retired from the streets, but range they have extensive grounds attached to them, laid out for the reins of four coursers of immortal vigour, who bound with the other houses, unprotected by any palisading or the most part in a style of stiff magnificence, but contain- over the clouds as though they would devour space and pen space; a portico in the centre admits you into a large ing fine avenues of tall, broad-headed pines, the shade of time, emitting fire from their eye balls and nostrils. quare area, (most of the palaces being built in the form which is so grateful in summer, and interspersed with pre- Hand in hand dancing round the solar car, are the Hours, x quadrangles,) and the internal fronts are frequently or- cious specimens of ancient sculpture. The Villa Borghese with the freshness and cheerfulness of morning; and lamented with ancient bas-reliefs or busts, whilst sarco. has been described by the eloquent authoress of Corinne above flies Cupid with the most bird-like swiftness and phagi or other pieces of antiquity are seen under the in terms somewhat too glowing: I did not find it so para- buoyancy, stretching forth his torch towards Aurora. arcades of the gound floor. Many of the palaces have disaical as I expected; yet I must make allowance for the There is a consistency in this admirable composition that been built by the nephews or natural children of the difference between summer and winter, great even in must strike every observer; the whole train presses forPopes, out of the treasures which the pontiffs amassed Italy, and must allow that those solemn groves would be ward with an equal and rapid motion, with a vigour that during their reign for the aggrandizement of their fami- very delightful as a refuge from the torrid heat of a sum- seems inexhaustible, yet with the most graceful ease and lies; and, having been erected for the residence of fami- mer's noon, if a poison, subtle as it is mortal, did not per- ethereal lightness. I never saw either motion or buoyancy lies enjoying a temporary supremacy, they are on a much vade the transparent atmosphere, and repay the momen- more perfectly represented in painting. These you may arger scale than the real property of the owners could tary enjoyment with fever and death. The mal aria reigns judge of from engravings, but you cannot from them form maintain, so that they are neglected, dirty, and often let in these fine grounds, and is as formidable as the dragon an idea of the brilliant and admirable colouring, which Off in part to tradesmen and lodgers, whilst the family that kept the gardens of the Hesperides, or more so, for it constitutes so great a charm in this work,-which gives a akes refuge in an upper story. The ground floor of the is an enemy unseen, which resides amidst all that is deli- rosy flush to Aurora and the Hours, a splendid radiance Palace Ruspoli is let off as a coffee-house and billiard- cious to the eye, and pure and fragrant to the other senses. to Apollo, and which so perfectly represents the bursting oom; the Palace Barberini is in part occupied by lodgers; It environs the city like a besieging army, and has even forth of light and glory in the midst of darkness. I could and the Princes, their proprietors, who are amongst the possessed itself of strong-holds within the walls; but what find no defect in this work except in the countenance of irst nobles of Rome, live in the remaining apartments. is most extraordinary in this pest is its partiality, for of Apollo, which has scarcely enough of dignity: but an It is no uncommon thing here for a Prince to live in a two villas on the same hill, separated only by a hedge, eminent English artist, whose name I have already mengarret, and yet he shall have a gallery of pictures and sta- one is subject to it, and the other is exempt; nay, there tioned, told me that the drapery of one of the Hours was tues, which he is too proud to sell, and vast suites of are houses placed so exactly across the invisible line of its of too bright a blue to be in keeping with the rest of the rooms, which he is too poor to furnish. The Doria Palace frontier, that one room is healthy and the adjoining room picture. If he had not noticed this, I should rather have is so immense that it might lodge an army, and the Bor-fatal. This terrible pest continues to encroach upon the thought the colour of the garment a merit, as it is preghese, the Farnese, the Corsini, and the Colonna Palaces city, and no means can be devised to check its progress. cisely the cerulean blue of the morning. approach it in size: except the last, these palaces are still It is owing, doubtless, to the uncultivated state of the n the possession of very rich families, yet their courts and Campagna, and to the effect of the sun on the marshy taircases are usually filthy, and they show throughout a grounds: the remedy is clearly cultivation; but how culgreat want of the comfort and cleanliness which would be tivate without an increased population? and how increase onsidered indispensible by any respectable tradesman in the population under a government in which kingeraft England. The vast halls and corridors are generally paved and priestcraft combine to depress and degrade the people? rith marble, which renders them very cold in winter, but s highly agreeable during the oppressive heat of summer. Many of the palaces contain admirable collections of paintings by the great Italian masters, where an amateur aay spend days and weeks in the study of these works of us. I have often been amused, after viewing one of hese collections, to recollect the strange variety of emoons which are excited during the inspection. You see uch a mixture of subjects, such a diversity of styles, that every chord of the heart and inind is touched, yet without the slightest order or harmony. Subjects from sacred writ and from heathen mythology, historical and allegorical, Doble and mean, pathetic and humorous, lovely and terrible, landscapes, portraits, battle-pieces, sea-pieces, all arranged according to the size of the pictures, or the nature of their frames, with no reference whatever to any other sort of classification. On the same wall, perhaps, you may see all this variety:-after being melted by a weeping Magdales of Titian, you are saluted by the meretricious glance of a Venus from the same pencil; Raphael's Madonnas and his Mistress are side by side; from a Dead Christ, or St. Francis, of Hannibal Caracci, you pass to his Triapk of Bacchus; from a Sybil of Domenichino, or an Apostle of Guercino, to a party of Gamblers by Caravag: Albani's Dance of Loves is contrasted with Tenier's Dance of Boors; a languishing Cleopatra of Guido, with a taving Prometheus of Salvator Rosa; a Boar Hunt by [To be continued.] EXTRAORDINARY LETTER. The Villa Borghese has been cruelly despoiled of its (ACCURATELY COPIED FROM THE ORIGINAL.) treasures of ancient sculpture since Madame de Stael published her Corinne. By far the finest collection in Rome, Howshippers Aphartment, after the public Museums, adorned the villa of the Prince, 27 fibyoehairy 1800. whilst one of the most splendid galleries of paintings en- SUR, i am rathur supperisd that s.ns my Litter you ave riched his palace. But Napoleon took away all the sculp-knot pust mattars farthur housumdevver 1 am stil villian to ture to adorn the Louvre, and gave the Prince in return belbeave yu vil not nigglehect me i thairfwhore vishes to ave his sister Pauline and a government. The exchange was ure pikther vich i am tould is costumhari on such okeaishuns disadvantageous, for the government slipped out of his have a friend a Cunnysewer hoo as a Pikther of vun of our hands too soon, and his wife not soon enough: the Princess famhille that vith a littil Halterashun he sais vil bee as lik yu was very beautiful, and no niggard of her favours; and as possibil and vos paynted by a wery unheniint mastur in the the Prince, from a disinclination either to see what he had dais of Holeifear Kramwel this yu nose vil saiv Expance and i lost, or to feel what he had gained, absented himself from vil giv u a rin sit rownde vith mi one Hare but if u are knot Rome and his wife for many years, till the latter, finding serouse I must tel u i vil knot be bumhuggd for i ave tu herself at the point of death, went to him at Florence, and rispectabil rilashuns in lundun hoo are unkils vun is Kochemun expired before his eyes. It is twenty-five years since the to a humpassadore the uther a turki marchant in hunnilain Prince saw his splendid property at Rome; he resides in market behsides anuthur unkil in the cuntury hoo is juist ass of piss and vil awl se me ritehead if u mens to slit and dishert me tho i thinks with vat i tould u i had bifwhore and vat u ave put tughether we mit bee weary kumfartable. But i incest upon hit that i mai hav sum riggleher cuntlushun how to rigglehate myself ackordinly. As the subject of mal aria is curious and disputed, I asked Thorwaldsen the other evening what was the result of his thirty years' experience of the climate of Rome. He said, that in the height of suminer you might walk out of the city, from four to six in the morning, without the slightest danger, and with great advantage to the health, the air being then of a freshness and purity the most delightful, and a sky perfectly beautiful, but that, after that hour, when the sun became powerful, you cannot quit the city with impu nity; he added, that the best means of preserving health in that season was to practise abstemiousness. Ures as you dimhean ure self, Mr. John Stepenson, E B J. Smith, Tiverton, Devonshire, lace manufacturer, for an improvement on the stocking frame.-May 23. J. Loach, Birmingham, brass-founder, for a self-acting sash fastener, which fastening is applicable to other par poses.-May 23. R. Slagg, Kilnhurst Forge, near Doncaster, steel ma nufacturer, for an improvement in the manufacture of springs chiefly applicable to carriages.-May 23. 2 L. J. Marie, Marquis de Combis, Leicester-square, f improvements in the construction of rotatory stat engines, and the apparatus connected therewith.-May J. B. Fernandez, Norfolk-street, Strand, for impro ments in the construction of blinds or shades for window or other purposes.-May 26. R. Mickleham, Furnival's Inn, civil-engineer architect, for improvements in engines, moved by the pressure, elasticity, or expansion of steam, gas, or by which a great saving in fuel will be effected.-June & H. R. Fanshaw, Addle-street, silk-embosser, for an inproved winding-machine.-June 13. J. Ham, Holton street, Bristol, vinegar-maker, for an improved process for promoting the action of acetic a on metallic bodies.-June 13. To Correspondents. The index to our sixth volume, which was promised with We are sorry 0. M. E. took the trouble to do what we nev required or expected. As for our refusing the letter, ve can assure our correspondent that we had not the ma distant idea of the quarter from which it proceeded. But we have so frequently to pay heavy sums for useless c munications, that we have been obliged to adopt defensin operations. WELSH ANTIQUITIES.-The engraving of the monument cording a battle between the Saxons and Picts is in real ness, and shall appear with the description, &c. very soon GHOSTS.-We have received from a correspondent, subscrib Justice, what he intends for a summing up of the late troversy about supernatural beings. We shall re-peruse in order to decide upon its publication. THE STORY OF THE SUICIDE, which occupies about eleven columns of this day's Kaleidoscope, has somewhat interfe with our preconcerted arrangements, and obliged us postpone several articles until next week, including th first canto of the Crusaders. M'CARTHY'S DREAM.-The writer of this piece is informa that our arrangements, owing to the great length of s of the pieces introduced, have obliged us to break off dream very abruptly, and perhaps not in the best place Our correspondent will, we hope, pardon the hint we give that it would be well to pay rather more attention than has done to the measure and accent, which are not unf quently defective. We know that the author of Don Ju has set the example in all sorts of irregularities in th Beppo measure; but it would be better to imitate h beauties and shun his defects. The mere rhyme is g much less consequence than the accent, which shoul never be violated. In M'Carthy's Dream, the last two line of the third verse, if read correctly, are quite prosaic, to make any thing like tolerable jingle of them, the word survey and purvey, must be read survey and purvey, which quite inadmissible. CHESS.-It appears that in the game XCVIII in the Kaleid scope of the 27th ult. the checkmate can be protracted o move, by the Black, on his second move, covering th check by his castle on the square D 5. We are indebted t a correspondent for this information; in consequence which, we must trouble our chess readers to make th necessary alteration with a pen.-If our correspondent w favour us with the solution to his own problem, we sha after examination, avail ourselves of it. THE KNIGHT'S MOVE.-We shall not fail to redeem o pledge on this subject. 9 OR Literary and Scientific Mirror. " UTILE DULCI." This familiar Miscellany, from which all religious and political matters are excluded, contains a variety of original and selected Articles; comprehending LITERATURE, CRITICISM, MEN and MANNERS, AMUSEMENT, elegant EXTRACTS, POETRY, ANECDOTES, BIOGRAPHY, METEOROLOGY, the DRAMA, ARTS and SCIENCES, WIT and SATIRE, FASHIONS, NATURAL HISTORY, &c. forming a handsome ANNUAL VOLUME, with an INDEX and TITLE-PAGE. Its circulation renders it a most eligible medium for Advertisements. of hot climates, erroneously alleged to have a head at each a Amongst the advantages and conveniences arising from We have now before us Professor Silliman's American Journal of Science and Arts, with which we have been avoured by a correspondent. From this work we shall make a selection, which will gratify such of our readers s cultivate the study of natural history.-Edit. Kal. Facts and considerations, showing that the Two-headed Snakes of Philadelphia. The two-headed serpent has long been an object of admiration and research. The rarity of its occurrence has dded interest to the inquiry. It has, however, been found in so many, and such distant places, that several Buthors have been induced to make delineations, and various collectors to procure specimens. The production to which I allude is not the Amphisboena The circumstances were powerful and imposing; and for a time I was myself inclined to that belief. But latterly I have acquired information that has obliged me to abandon the notion. PRICE 340, Intelligence by a most credible source has reached me from the Black river, near Lake Ontario, of a snake with three heads. The specimen was promised to me, and I do not yet despair of receiving it. I offer, as part of this communication, a somewhat circumstantial description of a two-headed serpent, I received from one of the Fejee Islands, a few years ago. The length is four inches and three quarters. Though there is some difficulty in counting the shields, yet, as nearly as I can ascertain, the scuta of the belly are one hundred and twenty-five, and the scutella of the tail fifty-three. There are two pairs of jaws, two pairs of eyes, and two complete and separate heads. From the anterior termination of the dorsal ridge, the body branches forwards into two equal and regular necks. These necks are short, and connected by an intervening membrane, and continuous skin, beneath. On this skin is a sort of ligament, reaching across the chin, from the outer angle of one mouth to the outer angle of the other. It seems to have given strength and simultaneous motion to the jaws. The two heads are of the same size, and very symmetrically formed. The back is dark brown, approaching to black; the belly paler, and of a yellowish brown; the tail tapers away like that of most other snakes, being neither flat, abrupt, nor blunt. cabinet at Bologna; and there is one in the Museum of the King of France, at Paris. During the year 1823, a female snake was killed about Among the ancients, two-headed snakes have been six miles west of the Genesee river, together with her mentioned by Aristotle and Elian. Among the moderns, whole brood of young ones, amounting to one hundred Joseph Lanzoni relates that he had seen such an animal. and twenty. Of these, three were monsters; one with Francis Redi has left a very particular account of one that two distinct heads; one with a double-head, and only was catched near Pisa, on the bank of the Arno, and which three eyes; and one with a double skull furnished with lived from January to February, after it was taken, affordthree eyes and a single lower jaw; this last had two ing many opportunities for experiments and remarks. bodies. The figures correctly drawn from the originals When life was departing, the right head appeared to die in my collection, represent the shape and size of the seve-seven hours before the left. Aldrovandus had one in his ral individuals. (See the annexed engraving, 1, 2, and 3.) My friend, Dr. Voight, of Rochester, having heard of the occurrence, travelled to the place and inquired into the facts. He procured the three which were deformed, and very obligingly placed them at my disposal. The dam, or mother, was of the sort called the Black Snake or Runner, one of the most frequent and prolific of the New York serpents. The species is very well known, and is apparently the Coluber Constrictor of Linnæus, and Le Lien of La Cepede. It frequently attains the length of six feet, and has been known to equal twelve; is sleek and slender, with a black back and a bluish belly, with a white throat, and sometimes a white ring around the neck. This species belongs to the tribe of viviparous snakes, comprising such as are in strictness containers of eggs, but do, nevertheless, hatch them within their bodies, and bring forth the young alive. This has been long known to happen in the case of the European viper, called Vipera, a derivative from Viripara, from the known habit of excluding the offspring from retained or unlayed ova. We have here an example of the monstrosity of three individuals belonging to a single litter of serpents, and that monstrosity conspicuous in the twofold formation of the head. It might hence be inferred from analogy, that all serpents of this irregular constitution are also monsters. Still, as these misshapen productions have somehow been regarded as exceptions to the rule, I shall add a few more observations. For further intelligence on this curious and controverted subject, I refer to the Count La Cepede's able disquisition' (Des Serpens monstreux) on Serpentine monsters (Vol. IV. pp. 311-326 of the copy I had the honour to receive from him) wherein, like a sagacious reasoner, he decides the whole class of these productions to be anomalies. A two-headed serpent is figured, in several views, by George Edwards, in the fourth volume of his history of birds, plate 207, and described. The drawings are of the natural magnitude. He introduces the subject by observ.. ing that he did not propose to exhibit monsters in his work, but that the species, even if it had not two heads, might be better known to the learned world. He mentions an English serpent, that had been brought to him, with two distinct heads. The specimen he describes was from Barbadoes. The other intelligence touching this inquiry has been so fully and properly posted up by Mr. President Clinton, in the note ff, subjoined to the discourse he delivered before the New York Literary and Philosophical Society, in 1814, and published in the Transactions of that learned body, (Vol. II. p. 160-162,) that I avoid the transcription of his luminous statement. From the facts stated, and the references made, it appears that two-headed snakes have been found in the W Indian and Polynesian Isles, in Great Britain, in I and in the state of New York. An inference |