are long, the hindermost the longest, having also a very extensive motion at its articulation with the body. The claws are sharp pointed, five on each leg, and united in sets; that is, two toes are united to the point on the outer part, and three inward; on the hind leg three are joined externally, and two on the inner side. The body is covered all over with slight papillous elevations.

This individual was embarked on board of a ship at Cadiz, with several others, the greater part of which died on the voyage. It was presented to me about the end of July, in perfect health; and the only caution given to me when it was placed in my hands, was, that I should be careful to give it water. It was added, that those which died on board had refused it; but those which drank freely survived. To this observation and recommendation, however, I gave no heed; as Mr. Jackson, who attended to the 'habits of this creature in its native country, has, in his account of the empire of Morocco, asserted that the chameleon does not drink. Although less methodical, it will, I think, be more satisfactory, if the account I have to give of this creature consist only of an extract of my journal, written at the moment of observation. The chameleon moves rather slowly, especially on the ground. Its most favourite place of resort is a bush or branched stick, along which it advances with great circumspectionnever loosing its hold with one hand, as its singularly formed feet may well be termed, until it has secured a certain grasp with the others. The tail, in the mean while, is employed in holding fast, by twisting round the branch on which it is advancing. The prehensile tail is particularly useful in preserving the body erect; for which purpose, when on a slender twig, the feet alone are not always sufficient.

The colour of the chameleon, subject as it is to never-ceasing variations, is a subject of great interest. If a creature, that rarely retains the same hue for ten minutes together, can be said to have any one capable of being termed its own, it is a dusky brown or black, nearly approaching to the colour of soot. It is this which it assumes when compressing its sides and placing its body, with the plane of its area at right angles with the beams of

the sun, it lies basking in the rays. At this time, even its mouth is extended to receive the solar influence, although at other times it is closely shut. As a dingy black is its common colour when enjoying itself in its usual occupation of basking in the sun, so a light or whitish yellow is the colour it assumes while asleep; during which time it never moves from its position.

Desirous of ascertaining the temperature of its body, August 18th, at nine at night, the thermometer standing in the room at 64°, was moved carefully to the side of the chameleon; the colour changed from yellow to greenish, with deeper green, and then purple spots, and it blew itself up; which is effected by inhaling air, sometimes with a rushing or hissing sound. The lungs appear to occupy the whole under part of the belly. In a few minutes, the thermometer, lying in contact with its side, rose to 68°. Some hours after, when asleep, distended with air, the colour of a light yellowish green, the thermometer at 63°, on being applied, rose to 68°. The act of touching it with the ball of the thermometer did not cause it to awake, but two rows of purple spots were produced on the former ground. Whenever two rows of spots are produced, they are large, and in one direction and situation.

On another evening, the thermometer at 62°, at eleven at night, the chameleon asleep, colour a uniform light yellow; the touch of the thermometer did not cause it to awake, yet the colour became darker, and covered with numerous purple lines; in a few minutes it was dark green, with obscure purple spots. Basking in the sun, the side towards the light is a very dark brown, the shaded side is lighter, with green tints, and two large rows of purple spots; but sometimes these spots are white. At night, when asleep, of a light yellow, with two rows of white spots; on holding a lighted (mould) candle within a distance sufficient to communicate warmth, the side next the candle became of a uniform brown; the other side continued of a light yellow. In all cases, the colour resides in the minute tubercles with which the body is covered, and not in the interstices. Asleep still, the colour yellow with two rows of white spots, held a candle within three inches; the side to which the candle

portionate incapacity. He who does not fear God, will not regard man. Such a person may, it is true, assume an affected and showy civility; he may, on some occasions, be excessively complaisant and affable; but this is the mere paint of pretence, which but conceals an odious mass of worthless principles, whose rankling venom will necessarily be infused into the conversation, and often spoil the artificial polish of education. A bad man may sometimes be kind from natural affection, or interested motives; but no reliance can be placed on one who is governed by selfishness. It is as impossible for such a man to be uniformly kind and agreeable, as for the devil constantly to exhibit the attractive qualities of an angel.

But it may be objected, that, in religious circles, we frequently meet with individuals, whose manners afford no recommendation to the religion which they profess, many of them being rude, or stiff and affected, or most dismally gloomy and morose. We may allow the truth of this statement, and yet deny the inference which is drawn from it. It should be remembered, that ignorant men often become pious-men who are constitutionally untoward and gloomy ;-now, religion in these persons must appear to great disadvantage; their society, we allow, is uninviting; but then, prior to their conversion, it was detestable. Again, religious society is ever infested with half-hearted professors, and hypocrites, who, in their attempts to ape religion, always expose it to abuse, and themselves to abhorrence. But the reader must be reminded, that, if be is a stranger to piety himself, he, unhappily, is blind to the beauty of holiness, and must view religious persons through the vicious and deceitful perspective of prejudice. I therefore again assert, that piety, warm and unaffected, must lay the foundation of every thing that is truly amiable in the manners; because it is this alone that fills the soul with universal and disinterested benevolence-that eradicates pride, envy, malice, discontent; passions, which are as effectually destructive of social harmony, as they are of personal happiness.

2. Intelligence is essential to agreeable manners. The lowest character that can fairly lay claim to intelligence, is a person who has been taught to

consider mental improvement as an object of high importance; and who has endeavoured, by reading, conversation, and study, to store his mind with useful knowledge.

He must be a man of thought and reflection, that would make an agreeable associate ;-one who has inured himself to investigation; and who cannot be satisfied without tracing a proposition up to its principles, and down to its consequences.

Many know a great deal, without being sensible people. Such are those, who, with prodigious memories, and a voracious appetite for reading, have filled their heads with a vast, heterogeneous miscellany of ideas. The companionship of these persons is by no means desirable. You soon discover that they are destitute of taste and judgment. They can pour forth a deluge of matter; but it is often out of season. Possessing the ability to talk, they are satisfied without being able to reason.

It is necessary to say, that knowledge is the basis of social intercourse; without it conversation must be empty and insipid, and the whole deportment stupid and repulsive.

3. Cheerfulness is an indispensable quality of pleasing manners. I do not refer to the boisterous mirth of the voluptuary, or the frothy gaiety of the man of pleasure: the former is madness; the latter the most contemptible folly. Genuine cheerfulness is the offspring of good nature and heartfelt joy, which, while it glistens in the countenance, sparkles in the eye, and vibrates on the tongue, is combined with a sobriety which redeems it from the imputation of lightness.

Cheerful people are usually talkative; but not always remarkably so. It is true, the disposition leads us to converse with spirit and vivacity on suitable occasions, but it will allow us to be silent, or nearly so, when we cannot speak to edification, and at many times when the shallow tattler would experience no lack of matter.

But it is curious to witness the prodigious difference that exists in the disposition of individuals, in this particular. Some are as parsimonious of their words, as the miser is of his money. Yet, it is somewhat singular, that, though pride, diffidence, melancholy, or mental absence, may contribute to the production of this tacitur

rance; for the most talkative people have often the least to communicate. But from whatever cause this habitual silence may arise, it is disagreeable. Safe it may indeed be; but it never originates either utility or pleasure.

On the contrary, those who possess a lively turn, and a facile utterance, together with a good share of vanity | and confidence, are often disagreeably garrulous. Such persons are usually either despised as egotists, or hated as calumniators; for to these vices all men are prone, but particularly excessive talkers, who can scarcely avoid saying a great deal, either about themselves or others. Great talkers, says one, discharge too quick, always to take true aim.

They who wish to learn the art of cheerfulness, must first learn the art of happiness; for the former is but the outward expression of the latter—it is | impossible for misery to be cheerful. If it be asked who are happy, I answer, those whose passions and appetites are brought into subjection to reason; who, by a steadfast faith in the great Redeemer, realize an assurance of Divine favour, and who live in the certain prospect of the immense rewards of immortality. This is the happiness of rational beings. This is the substantial basis of cheerfulness. It is this which imparts to the vivacity of the Christian a mild and dignified serenity, which forms a striking contrast to the irregular and unbridled levity of the wicked.

4. Urbanity enters deeply into the essence of good manners. I understand by this term, a conciliating, obliging demeanour, tempered with unaffected elegance and dignity. Urbanity must have its seat in the heart; it is incompatible with selfishness, cruelty, and pride. If it can accommodate a beggar, yea, an insect, without sacrifice of duty or decorum, it will rejoice to do it. Artificial good breeding, if the principle be wanting, is but the ape of urbanity. It may, indeed, particularly if assisted by natural suavity of temper, stick on its plumes so tastefully, as to impose on the undiscerning; but it wants the living soul of genuine cordiality, and, like the fictitious wings of Icarus, it can only sustain its possessor in a temperate region.

He who is the subject of this amiable

81.-VOL. VII.

avoid giving offence, but he endeavours to avoid the misery of being of fended. It is impossible that even he should not sometimes meet with unworthy treatment; but he will not punish himself, and gratify the fool that insults him, by indulging resentful feelings and intemperate language. The abusive interjections of senseless passion, he considers far beneath his notice; or only deserving his pity. But this magnanimous self-possession gives him a vast superiority over his antagonist, whom it never fails to mortify, confound, and vanquish. They are the most disagreeable of all companions, who are easily provoked and offended; and the perpetual dread which you feel of displeasing such persons, quite destroys the charm of social intercourse.

Some people labour under a peculiar infirmity of mind, which inclines them incessantly to deal in a puny gibing sort of criticism. It is troublesome, rather than provoking, to be interrupted in your conversation by the castigatory remarks of these literary insects. They do not, indeed, always find it convenient to quiz you to your face; but you may often perceive them gnawing you with toothless eagerness, in a kind of oblique or distant manner. This miserable propensity is rarely associated with any thing deserving the name of talent, and never with good manners. It betrays a conceit the most sickening, and an impertinence the most intolerable.

The most conciliating politeness will allow us to censure faults which are serious and hurtful; the foibles of others may also occasionally be the subject of delicate and good-natured satire. But unless we can command a countenance and a style, which shall indicate the entire absence of spleen and bitterness, we shall find it safer to leave the latter business to those who can do it more gracefully.

5. Simplicity must be conspicuous in our deportment. This virtue I oppose chiefly to the hollow frippery of compliment, the pedantic affectation of learning, and the pitiful dandyism of dress. But simplicity is perfectly consistent with the utmost refinement; it knows nothing of that coarse and slovenly behaviour, which, in their anxiety to avoid affectation, is, by some people, adopted.

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