the fire kindled, and plenty to eat, they are as happy as princes. There is a continual chattering and laughing among them, and frequent songs. Some of their boat-songs are very pretty, and they roar them out manfully to the stroke of their oars.' THE PIRATE. [From the Manx Liberal.] By the time that the several dispositions ordered by the captain had been made, the stranger, a beautiful brig, had approached within long gunshot. We (that is, officers and passengers) were congregated upon the poop deck, in anticipation of momentarily receiving an iron summons to round to. This, however, did not appear to be part of the unknown's policy; and whilst he was fast drawing ahead, Macsawney, who carried on the duties of the ship as if she floated unquestioned mistress of the blue expanse, ordered eight bells (having taken the sun) to be struck, and invited his passengers to partake their customary meridian. They were in the act of descending, when Bosy reported that the brig, having given a broad yaw to leeward, showed Spanish colours at her peak. These were scarcely set ere they were dipped, an indication that it was their wish to speak us. The atrocities which have degraded Spain's once imperial banner, coupled with the rakish loom of the stranger, and our proximity to the Cape de Verd Islands, the favourite resort of the lawless, caused us to survey him with a curiosity in which apprehension was not slightly mingled. Our doubts and fears were in course of speedy solution, for the self-styled Spaniard had now lessened his distance to a couple of hundred yards. A more exquisite hull it was impossible to look upon-long, low, and of exceeding beam-the bow round as an apple, with a cutwater sharp as a wedge, from which projected a female figure-head of the most graceful proportions. Every line was symmetry itself-her bottom beautifully moulded, her copper bright as burnished gold, and her run clean and fine as the heels of a racer; in short, the very model of what an English nobleman's yacht should be. The capacity might amount to some three hundred tons. The beauty of the hull was fully equalled by the gear aloft, which was taunt, tapering, and well set up; the lower mast was clean-scraped and bright varnished, with long heads painted white. He carried courses, topsails, with a slab reef to make them stand better, top-gallant sails, fore-topmast staysail, jibboom mainsail, a thundering ringtail, fore-topmast and fore-top-gallant studding sails; his royal yards were sent down, and his flying jib-boom housed. All his yards were remarkably square, his canvass well cut, and it was impossible to surpass the light airy tracery of his taper masts, with all their mazy lines of superincumbent cordage. As we approximated, we gave our meteor flag to the breeze-his Spanish ensign still floating at his peak. His lovely craft was in perfect command, and having drawn a little before our lee beam, he immediately hailed. "Ship, ahoy!" "Hallo!" responded Macsawney. "What ship's that?" "The Saucy Sally. What brig's that?""The Vomito Pietro," was the answer. "Where are you from ?" "The Cape of Good Hope." "Heave to-heave to! I have intelligence to communicate." "Ay, ay," sang out Mac. Cheerily, my lads; round in the weather main and topsail braces. Foretop there! down top-gallant stun'sail; in with big Ben; clap on the topmast stun'sail downballo! That's it-with a will, men. So-o! Man royal and skysail clue-lines!" In a surprisingly short space the Saucy Sally was reduced to top and top-gallant sails, jib and spanker, the fore and main course hanging in the brails. The Vomito Pietro was still under sail, although, while our ship was obeying her injunctions, she had hauled up so sharp in the wind as not only to deaden her way, but to drop a short distance astern. Perceiving our main-topsail to the mast, he once more ranged within hailing distance. Ship, ahoy! Send a boat aboard of me, d'ye hear?" "Brig, ahoy!" shouted Mac. "No boat of mine leaves this ship. If you have any thing to communicate, send your own boat." "Send your boat this instant, sir, or I'll fire into you." "Blaze away," sang out the imperturbable Scotsman. "Down on the deck, lads; you shall pepper him by and by." A pause ensued; the vessels gradually separated; the Vomito Pietro hove to some sixty yards forward of the Sally's lee beam, and, without further ceremony, exchanged the Spanish ensign for the skull and marrowbones. At this moment both vessels had nearly lost steerage way, the wind having fallen dead calm. "We must be guided by circumstances," said the captain, addressing us; "but in no case must we allow them to obtain a footing upon our decks. Better go to the bottom like men than be flung into it like dogs. He will no doubt seek to board under cover of his long guns. Let him try; but do not, I implore you, throw away a shot until each of you is sure of his man: every one they lose adds to our chance of escape." The captain was right in his conjecture, for scarcely had he ceased speaking, ere the Vomito, apparently satisfied with reconnoitring, launched both her quarter-boats full of men. No sooner had they touched the water, than they sent forth a wild yell, to which, as a fitting accompaniment, the roar of their long eighteen opened its deadly throat, happily without any material injury resulting. Emboldened by the non-return of fire, the boats, after a brief conference under the Vomito's stern, commenced pulling, making somewhat of a sweep, apparently with the design of assailing the Saucy Sally on either quarter. "Divide yourselves," continued the watchful and indefatigable Mac; "but, above all, be cool-be steady. Ah!" he exclaimed, rubbing his hands with great delight, "it would be a noble chance. I'll try it, by George! at the worst it can but fail. Look alive, a hand or two; ease off the weather and haul in the lee main braces; there's a cat's-paw aloft; the ship already feels it, and there will be more ere long. Jump aft, O'Donoghue; take the wheel; run the pirate alongside; and, d'ye mind "Physiologie de l'Etudiant," "Physiologie de l'Homme SPRING IS COMING BY CAMILLA TOULMIN. I could dream their fairy bells Dwellers in more genial climes, LITERATURE IN FRANCE. In addition to the vast fecundity of the Parisian press in novels, romances, and tales interminable, bristling in feuilletons, and packed into library volumes, there is likewise a translation-factory from the English kept pretty briskly at work. The lingual steam-engine is driven by M. Defauconpret, who has translated the works of Sir Walter Scott for the Cabinets de Lecture. This gentleman has also translated several copies of Cooper's novels, and some of Captain Marryat's-the preference of selection being unquestionably accorded to them in consequence of their "naval" character-a school of art in which France is extremely backward. These translations, as may well be conceived, are truly Frenchified affairs; even the very names being curiously and ridiculously metamorphosed; thus, we have "Monsieur le Midshipman Easy" for one title, "Le Marin à Terre" (The Middy Ashore) for another, and the last issued figures as Joseph Rushbroock." But no Frenchman ever yet could spell an English name. 66 The most noticeable thing about these publications is the remarkably cheap price at which they are sold. Each volume is charged only 3 francs, whilst the paltriest translated trash that goes into our circulating libraries here is impudently priced at half a guinea a-volume. The most splendid works of original fiction, witness Eugene Sue's "Mathilde," are published at the same price as Defauconpret's translations. Observe how, by this liberal arrangement, author and public (and the bookseller himself in the long run) are benefited. Cheap reprints of "standard" English works, from French presses, abound; and Galignani's establishment has been cut out in some directions, and forced in others to reduce its expensiveness, by which it rivalled even London humbug. There is scarcely, in short, a book of acknowledged merit in the circle of English literature that you cannot purchase, reprinted in Paris by Frenchmen, yet with great accuracy, for 8d., 10d., or, at the very utmost, 15d. In this most astonishing activity of the publishing world, a very marked preference is given to English literature, the German being little cultivated.-Times. WHAT A MAN WILL DO FOR RELIGION. Men will wrangle for religion; write for it; fight for it; die for it; any thing but---live for it.---Lacon. FORGIVENESS. The brave only know how to forgive; it is the most refined and generous pitch of virtue human nature can arrive at. Cowards have done good and kind actionscowards have even fought, nay, sometimes conquered; but a coward never forgave: it is not in his nature; the power of doing it flows only from a strength and greatness of soul conscious of its own force and security, and above all the little temptations of resenting every fruitless attempt to interrupt its happiness.--- Sterne. INDUSTRY. There is no art or science that is too difficult for industry to attain to; it is the gift of tongues, and makes a man understood and valued in all countries and by all nations; it is the philosopher's stone, that turns all metals, and even stones, into gold, and suffers not want to break into its dwelling; it is the north-west passage, that brings the merchant's ship as soon to him as he can desire. In a word, it conquers all enemies, and makes fortune itself pay contribution.--- Clarendon. *We of course demur to this, limiting ourselves, however, to the single remark, that the Penny Cyclopædia is a work which would do honour to any age or country.-Ed. C. E. J. LONDON: Published, with permission of the proprietors, by W. S. ORR, Paternoster Row. Printed by Bradbury and Evans, Whitefriars. CONDUCTED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, EDITORS OF " CHAMBERS'S INFORMATION FOR THE PEOPLE," "CHAMBERS'S EDUCATIONAL COURSE," &c. NUMBER 533. EDUCABILITY OF ANIMALS. THIS is a subject on which, as far as we are aware, no attention has been bestowed in the way of scientific investigation. Yet such illustrations of it have been given, as would seem to point it out as a rich field for the philosophical naturalist. Regarding the endowments of animals as we generally do, it would be scarcely possible for us to believe some of the anecdotes which have been related on this point, if they were not, in general, authenticated in such a way as to preclude scepticism. In the latter part of the last century, one Bisset, a native of Perth, by trade a shoemaker, having applied himself with great perseverance to the teaching of animals, succeeded in making a set of cats play in harmony on the dulcimer, uniting their voices to the tones of the instrument; and this singular orchestra was exhibited, to the perfect satisfaction of the public, for a succession of nights, in the Haymarket theatre. He it was who trained that "learned pig," of which our fathers used to speak so highly, the animal having been exhibited in every part of the empire. At a somewhat earlier period, a Saxon peasant boy trained a dog to the pronunciation of words. The boy had observed in the dog's voice an indistinct resemblance to certain sounds of the human voice, and was thus prompted to endeavour to teach him to speak. The animal was three years old at the beginning of his instructions, a circumstance which must have been unfavourable to the object; yet, by dint of great labour and perseverance, in three years the boy had taught it to articulate thirty words. It used to astonish its visiters by calling for tea, coffee, chocolate, &c. ; but it is proper to remark that it required the words to be pronounced by its master beforehand, and it never appeared to become quite reconciled to the exhibitions which it was forced to make. The learned Leibnitz reported on this wonderful animal to the French Academy, attesting that he had seen the dog and heard it speak; so that there does not appear the slightest ground for doubting the fact, such as it was. All doubt on the question of possibility may, indeed, be considered as set at rest by the recent exhibition of the educated dogs in London-animals which could play at dominoes and chess, and even indicate when their adversaries made false moves. These creatures were visited and played with by thousands, and we never have heard that a deception of any kind as to the reality of their acquired powers was detected. Laying aside such extraordinary examples as these, the ordinary training conferred on horses, dogs, and other domesticated animals, seems to be sufficient to establish the general fact of animal educability. We have no more forcible illustrations of the principle than in the uses which are now made of certain of the canine tribe in rural sports. The pointer, setter, springing spaniel, and all that class of dogs, are understood to be descended from one stock, the Spanish spaniel, with a slight crossing from the fox-hound, for the sake of improving the speed. The original animal may be considered as a record of the original powers, to which every thing else must be regarded as an addition made by human training. Now, the original animal is only gifted by nature with a fine scent for game, and a disposition to make a momentary pause on seeing it, for the purpose of springing upon it.* Man has converted this inclination to a temporary pause into a habit of making a full stop, and the animal, instead of gratifying his destructive tendency by flying upon the game, has been trained to be con Thoughts and Recollections, by cne of the Last Century. London: Murray. 1825. tented with witnessing a vicarious execution by the lish pointers can be trained to the whole business of gun of his master. It is a mistake to suppose that only the spaniel tribe is capable of serving sportsmen in the capacity of pointers and setters. There are other classes of dogs which perseverance would enable, to a certain extent, to act in the same way. Gervase Markham, who wrote on sports in the sixteenth century, speaks of having seen dogs of the bastard tumbler kind adapted to act as setters, though not so well as those of the spaniel kind. Mr Blaine is of opinion that this power can be cultivated in most dogs. It has even been elicited in another and very different class of animals-the hog. Some years ago, Mr Toomer, gamekeeper to Sir Henry Mildmay, bethought him of teaching a pig to act as a pointer, having been struck by the scenting powers of the animal in its search for palatable roots under ground. He began by allowing a young female pig to accompany his pointers in their breaking lessons to the field. Within a fortnight, to his own surprise, she was able to hunt and point partridges and rabbits. There being an abundance of these creatures near the keeper's lodge, her education advanced rapidly by frequent exercise, and in a few weeks she was able to retrieve game as well as the best pointer. Slut, as this extraordinary animal was called, was considered to have a more acute scent than any pointer in the charge of the keeper; and it was a kennel of the highest character. They hunted her principally on moors and heaths; and it often happened, that when left behind, she would come of her own accord and join the pointers. "She has often stood a jack snipe when all the pointers had passed it: she would back the dogs when they pointed, but the dogs refused to back her until spoke to Toomer's dogs being all trained to make a general halt when the word was given, whether any dog pointed or not, so that she has been frequently standing in the midst of a field of pointers. In consequence of the dogs being not much inclined to hunt when she was with them (for they dropped their sterns, and showed symptoms of jealousy), she did not very often accompany them, except for the novelty. Her pace was mostly a trot; she was seldom known to gallop, except when called to go out shooting; she would then come home off the forest at full stretch, and be as much elated as a dog at being shown the gun. She always expressed great pleasure when game, either dead or living, was placed before her. She has frequently stood a single partridge at forty yards' distance, her nose in a direct line to the bird; after standing some considerable time, she would drop like a setter, still keeping her nose in an exact line, and would continue in that position until the game moved: if it took wing, she would come up to the place, and draw slowly after it; and when the bird dropped, she would stand it as before."+ These facts, together with what common observation presents to us in domesticated parrots, blackbirds, ravens, magpies, monkeys, &c., place the educability of animals upon a basis, in our opinion, not to be shaken. But the most wonderful thing, and the most convincing part of the proof, remains, in the fact of the transmission of acquired qualities by animals to progeny. The habit which education has conferred upon the pointer appears in his puppy, who may be seen earnestly standing at swallows and pigeons in a farmyard, before he has ever once seen such a thing done by his seniors, or received the least instruction. Here only the object is amiss; the act itself is perfect. As may be readily supposed, the puppy of a race of Eng * Encyclopedia of Rural Sports, 792. the field, in one-tenth of the time which the most experienced breaker would require to effect any improvement upon the simple instinct of the pause in an original Spanish spaniel. On the subject of the hereditary transmission of acquired qualities by animals, we have some curious information from the venerable naturalist, Mr T. A. Knight. In a communication to the Royal Society, in 1807, Mr Knight remarked the disposition of bees to seek for cavities in trees, where such existed, as places to swarm to, and surmised, that their taking up with the hives offered them is a result of domestication, which becomes inherent in those which have for several generations been under the care of man. To support this view, he cited several other instances of domesticated animals inheriting the acquired habits of their parents. "In all animals," he says, "this is observable; but in the dog it exists to a wonderful extent; and the offspring appears to inherit not only the passions and propensities, but even the resentments, of the family from which it springs. I ascertained that a terrier, whose parents had been in the habit of fighting with polecats, will instantly show every mark of anger when he first perceives the scent of that animal, though the animal itself be wholly concealed from his sight. A young spaniel brought up with the terriers showed no marks of emotion at the scent of the polecat, but it pursued a woodcock, the first time it saw one, with clamour and exultation: and a young pointer, which I am certain had never seen a partridge, stood trembling with anxiety, its eyes fixed, and its muscles rigid, when conducted into the midst of a covey of those birds. Yet each of these dogs are mere varieties of the same species, and to that species none of these habits are given by nature. The peculiarities of character can therefore be traced to no other source than the acquired habits of the parents, which are inherited by the offspring, and become what I call instinctive hereditary propensities." It appears from another communication made by Mr Knight to the same society in 1837, that he had then been pursuing investigations on this subject for nearly sixty years. He proceeds in that communication to give a general account of his investigations. "At the period," he says, "at which my experiments commenced, well-bred and well-taught springing spaniels were abundant, and I readily obtained possession of as many as I wanted. I had at first no other object than that of obtaining dogs of great excellence; but within a very short time, some facts came under my observation which very strongly arrested my attention. In several instances, young and wholly inexperienced dogs appeared very nearly as expert in finding woodcocks as their experienced parents. The woods in which I was accustomed to shoot did not contain pheasants, nor much game of any other kind, and I therefore resolved never to shoot at any thing except woodcocks, conceiving that by so doing the hereditary propensities above mentioned would become more obvious and decided in the young and untaught animals; and I had the satisfaction, in more than one instance, to see some of these find as many woodcocks, and give tongue as correctly, as the best of my older dogs. Woodcocks are driven in frosty weather, as is well known, to seek their food in springs and rills of unfrozen water, and I found that my old dogs knew about as well as I did the degree of frost which would drive the woodcocks to such places; and this knowledge proved very troublesome to me, for I could not sufficiently restrain them. I therefore left the old experienced dogs at home, and took only the wholly inexperienced young dogs; but, to my astonishment, some of these, in several instances, confined themselves as closely to the unfrozen grounds as their parents would have done. When I first observed this, I suspected that woodcocks might have been upon the unfrozen ground during the preceding night; but I could not discover (as I think I should have done had this been the case) any traces of their having been there; and as I could not do so, I was led to conclude that the young dogs were guided by feelings and propensities similar to those of their parents. The subjects of my observation in these cases were all the offspring of well-instructed parents, of five or six years old or more; and I thought it not improbable that instinctive hereditary propensities might be stronger in these than in the offspring of very young and inexperienced parents. Experience proved this opinion to be well founded, and led me to believe that these propensities might be made to cease to exist, and others to be given; and that the same breed of dogs which displayed so strongly an hereditary disposition to hunt after woodcocks, might be made ultimately to display a similar propensity to hunt after trufles; and it may, I think, be reasonably doubted whether any dog having the habits and propensities of the springing spaniel would ever have been known, if the art of shooting birds on the wing had not been acquired. I possessed one young spaniel, of which the male parent, apparently a well-bred springing spaniel, had been taught to do a great number of extraordinary tricks, and of which the female parent was a well-bred springing spaniel; the puppy had been taught, before it came into my possession, a part of the accomplishments of its male parent. In one instance I had walked out with my gun and a servant, without any dog; and having seen a woodcock, I sent for the dog above mentioned, which the servant brought to me. A month afterwards, I sent my servant for it again, under similar circumstances, when it acted as if it had inferred that the track by which the servant had come from me would lead it to me. It left my servant within twenty yards of my house, and was with me in a very few minutes, though the distance which it had to run exceeded a mile. I repeated this experiment at different times, and after considerable intervals, and uniformly with the same results, the dog always coming to me without the servant. I could mention several other instances, nearly as singular, of the sagacity of this animal, which I imagined to have derived its extraordinary powers in some degree from the highly-cultivated intellect of its male parent." Mr Knight states, that in sixty years he had observed the woodcock tribe become much more shy and wild than it formerly was, the result, he conceives, of "increased hereditary fear of man." This is certainly a result in conformity with the difference observed between birds in general in peopled and unpeopled countries, the former being shy from the youngest period of life, while the latter are tame and unsuspicious at all periods, until they become acquainted with the destructive propensities of man. Mr Knight adds a few more cases, which he describes as but a sample of a vast number equally remarkable. We can only afford room for one, relating to a young dog of the variety called retrievers. He obtained a puppy of this breed, a month old, from a distant county, and said to be descended of a very well-bred family. "I had walked," he says, "up the side of the river which passes by my house in search of wild-ducks, when the dog above mentioned followed me unobserved, and contrary to my wishes, for it was too young for service, not being then quite ten months old. It had not received "Good heavens!" exclaimed Geraldine, the falsehood she had framed as to her mother giving her ten pounds towards the purchase of the chain, and the effect it must have had upon her husband's mind, flashing upon her for the first time. "Oh! mamma, why did you not tell me this before? What must my husband have thought of me?" 66 with a degree of specialty as to external conditions, at We thus see that not only does what metaphysicians call the law of habit exercise a sway in the intellects of animals, but that modification which takes place in human communities, and passes under the comprehensive name of civilisation, also affects the lower tribes of creation. A race of animals, like a race of men, is civilisable; and we cannot doubt that the same softening influences which have produced the advanced nations of Europe, have operated upon the animals existing in the same countries, and made them very different from what they were in early times. It cannot escape remark, that the whole principle of civilisation acquires strength from having its basis thus widened. We become the more confident in the improvability of our own species, when we find that even the lower animals are capable of being improved, through a succession of generations, by the constant presence of a meliorating agency. THE PRIVATE PURSE. PART II. "How is it, Geraldine," said her mother to Mrs fault. Henry is perpetually insulting, by asking me She resolved to confide in her mother the particulars regarding the chain, hoping she should be able to prevail on her to say, if she was questioned on the subject, that she had borrowed the money to lend her; for, as I have said before, lies yield ample fruitage. She had of late mentioned some of her perplexities to her cousin ; and here I am forced to pause, to observe that one of the most foolish acts of a young woman's life is the confiding in any man, either what she fears to intrust to her husband, or any complaint against him. It is almost always sure to betray itself; and if it does not, the step is so imprudent, so likely to lead to results affecting her character, and certainly to affect her conduct, that of all things it ought to be the most dreaded, the most avoided. It is seldom that a woman, resolved to bear and forbear, cannot succeed in winning her husband's friendship in the end. When this is really impossible-which I think can only be the case when a man is thoroughly unprincipled-may God help her! It is wiser for her not to complain of him she has sworn to "love, honour, and obey." Her own sex are, with a few most honourable exceptions, too feeble for friendship; and where there is youth and beauty, men are dangerous friends. It is wiser, then, I repeat, under such circumstances, for a woman to conceal her sorrows, and to alleviate them by active and duteous employment, rather than her character, injury will be, at best, sustained in by idle and dangerous repinings. If scandal catches setting it free; and the wretchedness of having been doubted, when forgotten by friends (if it ever be), is never unremembered by her upon whom suspicion has is injurious to a young English wife. It is only a rested. The very reputation of having a male friend vigorous mind that can bear being thus shut in with itself. A firm and noble one will bear it, because it is right; and perhaps, after years of firm endurance, any other instruction than that of being taught such a homily on the beauty of truth that she looked be rewarded by the friendship it has so richly deserved to bring any floating body off a pond, and I do not think that it had ever done this more than three or four times. It walked very quietly behind my gamekeeper upon the opposite side of the river, and it looked on with apparent indifference whilst I killed a couple of mallards and a widgeon; but it leaped into the river on the gamekeeper pointing out the birds to it, and it brought them on shore, and to the yesterday he took our child on his knee, and read her is very true what my aunt says you never can know "Your aunt, my dear, is a very bad counsellor. I "Oh, no! but she told me how it would be. Why, task about a chain! But that is nothing; I assure you he is niggardly in the extreme." -the friendship of him in whom a young heart trusted. Geraldine loved her cousin really as a sister loves a him an' atom of an affection that she need have brother; but no more. She had never bestowed upon blushed to own even to her husband; and though her cousin may be acquitted of all premeditated wrong towards her, he was not averse to being rallied on the assured every one "that it was a brother and sister affection"-that "it was impossible it could be any thing else, as they had been children together"-that "Geraldine was too devoted to her husband to indulge But he did not say these things frankly, and seriously, even a friendship for any one-except her cousin." feet of the gamekeeper, just as well as the best in- before we were six months married, he took me to preference evinced for him by his lovely relative. He structed old dog could have done. I subsequently shot a snipe, which fell into the middle of a large nearly stagnant pool of water, which was partially I called the dog from the other side of the water, and caused it to see the snipe, which could not be done without difficulty; but, as soon as it saw frozen over. "You must be wrong, Geraldine," said her mother, it, it swam to it, brought it to me, laid it down at deplorably reduced. He questioned me upon them and boldly, as it becomes a man of high honour to do; my feet, and again swam through the river to my with the greatest delicacy; and when he found how I he said them with a smile or a shrug, or a dolce sort was circumstanced, as he was handing me into the of Geraldine felt her colour change. "But how did gamekeeper. I never saw a dog of its age acquit itself self-satisfied expression, which made the careless young men of his acquaintance declare him a "lucky fellow," and married men say "that Leeson should look after his wife;" while matrons and old maids began to throw something of significance into their countenances when they observed that "they had met Mrs Leeson and her handsome cousin in the square," and some were malicious enough to forget to add that she was accompanied also by her child or a female friend. Most unhappily, her husband had become so irritable stant deceptions. He had long found it impossible to and so great was its power of doing so under these nothing to conceal? I never led him to suppose that and suspicious, that she excused herself for her concircumstances, that, when its master had crossed a you had a penny, or that I had sixpence beyond my field in the most curvilinear way, and caused other per- small annuity; so I confessed that when I came to pay distinguish between her truth and falsehood; he had sons to cross his path in all directions, it nevertheless followed his course with the greatest precision. Here you the bridal visit, I had not five pounds in the world." was a perfect revival of the habit of its Alpine fathers, *Thoughts and Recollections. become unjust to her virtues; for she was a most devoted parent, while he believed that she was indiffe rent to her child. When she told the story of the Self-degradation forced itself upon the feeble-minded mother, and she only said that she hoped he "would permit her still farther to explain." chain that origin of all the evil-to her mother, the "Nay!" he exclaimed; "how could that be, when "Pardon me," he replied, "if I decline any future I re "Indeed," exclaimed her mother, earnestly; "indeed, indeed, you do her wrong; Arthur never gave it her. If you have for so long a time indulged this injustice, no wonder you have made her and yourself so wretched." "My dear lady," replied Mr Leeson, calm even to bitterness, "I know he did; and in the gift, or the taking, there was no sin; but there was sin in the lie. It destroyed Henry Leeson was more changed than men usually my confidence in her; it implanted the vile weed susare in years so few, and yet he dressed better, waspicion in my bosom ; and ever since, as if a spell were round her, she has heaped duplicity upon duplicity, until quite as handsome, when in society conversed more fluently, many thought more agreeably, for a dash of her lips." It was most painful to observe the agitation now, I could not believe truth to be truth coming from vinegar curdled the oil, and rendered him pungent and of his feelings speaking in his eloquent face. "I believe," racy. But his features had lost their affectionate, he added, "I hope and trust, she is free of all other sin; confiding, easy expression; his face had grown sharp I hope it; I-I-believe it; but I cannot believe HER. as a lawyer's seeking flaws in an indictment; he could It was only this very day I came to the determination of not sit for five minutes looking straight forward, but removing our child from an influence which must in the twisted his eyes to see sideways, and his head to look end destroy her, as it has destroyed her mother." behind he had grown suspicious. The old lady had a difficult card to play, and, of course, played it badly, floundering through muddy sentences, until at last she ventured to regret "that her dear Harry had not been in the drawing-roomhe used to be so fond of music-and she had prevailed on Geraldine to sing; and Arthur Harewell said he had never heard her in better voice." Mr Leeson muttered something about a new book, and Arthur understanding music better than he did, as he heard more of it. And this was answered by an observation, "that more was the pity." And then the gentleman sat, and the lady fidgeted through a long pause-until, with tears of very sincere grief, she declared, in her own simple way, her regrets that two so much attached as her dear son and daughter "were" (Mr Leeson shook his head)" had been," then substituted the sorrowing mother-were now so estranged "without any cause." Mr Leeson stiffly said, that "if there had not been cause, there would have been no estrangement-the fault was none of his." The old lady hit upon one sensible observation by chance-"that in quarrels matrimonial, both parties were generally to blame." He bowed; and answered, "It might be so, in a degree." "For instance," she continued, "you were very angry with her long ago, I find, about a foolish chain; and really, Harry, dear, you had no reason." "The chain was in itself as unoffending," he replied, "as trinkets generally are; but I had reason. She told me a falsehood as to her means of purchase. The chain was a gift; yet she assured me she bought it. I have but too good reason to remember it, as the commencement of all our misery. Why, she even used your name as the giver of part of the purchasemoney." "And so I was," murmured forth the feeble-minded woman, unable to raise her eyes; but keeping down the truth by the weight of her sister's riches. Mine is "You are not surely going to be guilty of the cruelty that, I should not suffer as I do." "Had she been a faithless wife, you could not punish Unfortunately, Mr Leeson had selected a powerless Geraldine looked upon her husband's resolve as an act of wanton tyranny and cruelty. Having ceased to honour the straightforward truth, she could not believe the one stated to be the true reason of his determination, and, blinded by sorrow and anger, she induced her cousin Arthur to interfere. Women talk and talk, outrage and anger each other, and their words are as nought. Who heeds or cares for them after they are spoken? But men's words are uttered to be remembered and acted upon. Mr Leeson was indignant at any man presuming to interfere in his domestic concerns. Words succeeded each other with angry rapidity, until neither could call to mind Harewell, then, boldly and fearlessly declared that he how the unfortunate chain was first alluded to. Arthur him the lie direct. The usual consequences followed. never gave it to his cousin; upon which Mr Leeson gave Arthur Harewell received a ball in his shoulder, and Mr Leeson, also wounded, was conveyed home, where his agonised wife, throwing herself on her knees by his side, bitterly lamented that her aunt's gift had been so fatal. Now, indeed, she spoke the truth. The sight of her first and only love, his lacerated arm bleeding, and his features white as a maiden's shroud, recalled her better nature. What, in that hour, did she care for her aunt's displeasure?-what for the wealth her sordid fingers had grappled together? She believed HE was dying, and She did not even seek to extenuate her own fault, while dying with the conviction of her utter worthlessness. she traced it to its origin; and yet there, on her knees, while pouring out her soul in sincerity and truth, she saw she was not believed. How could she convince him? In a state bordering on frenzy she wrote to her aunt, imploring her to ratify her words, acknowledging her kindness towards herself, but showing what its effects had been. To this appeal she received no answer. The proof, however, that she was able to lay before her husband, at last convinced him that her first fault-her first falsehood--did not originate in herself. Before he rose from his sick-bed, for mental her aunt had died; and her mother was certainly the only agitation, combined with his wound, terminated in fever, she left her niece was characteristic of her sarcasm. one of the family who regretted to find that the legacy "And to my niece, Geraldine Leeson, I give and bequeath, instead of the whole of my property, as I had intended, the sum of one shilling, to buy a padlock for her foolish lips." I wish I could say here, after the most approved novel fashion, that, so reconciled, Mr and Mrs Leeson lived happily together to the end of their days. Not so. Henry Leeson, though a strict, was a high-minded and generous man, and with such a character even his erring wife was safe from reproach; but the effect of years of misconduct, of any kind, cannot be obliterated by sorrow. Repentcognisant thereof. The duel had stamped Geraldine in ance works well for the penitent, but the world is little the eyes of that world as a woman, if not of sin, of levity; this in truth in a married woman is so closely akin to sin, that there is but one Power which can discern the difference. When familiar faces turned aside as she church ungreeted, her husband was by her side, and she passed, when she walked up the steps of the parish felt her arm as closely pressed to his heart as when he supported her, a lovely, loving bride, from the altar; but that his confidence, though she hoped returning, had not even then she felt indebted to his generosity. She knew returned. When to prove to the world his perfect conleaning upon Arthur Harewell's arm, the knowledge of viction as to the virtue of his wife, he paraded town the necessity for such conduct made her ashamed of her own shadow. "Take my child from me now, Harry," she said, with bitter, bitter tears, and her head bent almost to his feet, "and I will not complain. Send her where some one of higher and holier mind will strengthen and stablish her where there is no danger of her confounding right and in what is right. Send her where the duties of her sex and station will be brought clearly before her eyes, and wrong. At any sacrifice of my own, I would save her from the sufferings I have inflicted and endured." felt it, and rejoiced; but his joy was sobered by the This, indeed, was the language of truth, and Henry knowledge, the fearful knowledge, of what the world said, and the dread that she did not yet understand the happiness of domestic life. Union of sympathies is the perfect and entire union of interests necessary to the happy effect of chance, but a union of interests is a positive duty; and so at last Geraldine felt it. feeble mind of his wife's mother, and kept her out of the Time passed on. Mr Leeson, although he despised the way of her grandchild, ministered liberally to her necesparent could desire, although her fragile form and sensities. His daughter grew up in mind all that the fondest sitive face told of constitutional delicacy; and he had almost forgotten that ever he doubted his wife's truth. They had removed into a new neighbourhood, and formed new friends. The son of one of these, a man of high rank, was paying his addresses to their daughter; and not only were the young girl's affections engaged, but both parents were delighted at the prospect of her happiness. Father and son were dining one day at Mr Leeson's splendid country seat, when the old gentleman, who was chiefly remarkable for extreme propriety, and was moreover exceedingly deaf, said, as they were chatting over dessert, "By the way, Leeson, my cousin, Sir George, no relation I suppose-eh?" Mr Leeson did not know. was telling me an odd story about a person of your name, "No; but it could not be--very improper indeed if it was. Leeson is a general, I do not mean to say a common name, but a general one. Something about an affair that ought to have given employment to the gentlemen of the long robe; but the lady, who was a dreadful story-teller, managed to convince her husband of her innocence, though she convinced nobody else. And only fancy, by Jove! the husband parading St James's Street arm-inarm with the very cousin whom he had winged! Now, did you ever hear any thing so absurd? How the fellows at the club windows must have laughed!" Poor Mrs Leeson! After the lapse of years, to hear this at such a moment! She was carried out of the room fainting. An explanation followed, and the match was, The shock was of too severe a nature to be endured by so gentle and tender minded a girl as Miss Leeson. She had known her mother only as good and pure. She had been more proud of her character and virtue than of any thing else in the whole world; but after that fatal dinner she never spoke upon the subject, nor asked a question, until at the very last. Within an hour of her death (and she died within a month), raising herself on her pillow, while her parents were at either side, she folded her arm round her father's neck, and drawing his ear close to her lips, whispered, "Tell me, father-tell me truth-was she guilty ?" at least for a time, broken off. 66 “No, dearest-God knows, she was not." The girl's face became radiant with joy, and the last word she spoke was a repetition of the sound she loved so well-"My mother!-my mother!-my mother!" And then she passed away, as the leaves from the summer cistus, as fragile and as fair-the first rough blast of a rough world had borne her to the earth. For years and years her parents lived, two mourning creatures, he strengthening her, and she, patient and silent, save to the young, whom she counselled, as I do you that when you wed, do it not lightly; but when done, endeavour as much as lieth in you to be of one mind and one interest in all things. THE LIFE AND POETRY OF HORACE. QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS, better known by the meanour effectually corroborated the recommenda- I Horace could not boast of a poetical exterior. His The Our poet was warm in his friendships; and there must have been much to love as well as to admire in the man whom Maecenas, after an intimacy of thirty years, could commend in these affecting terms to his imperial master: "Be mindful of Horace, as you would of me." He was, notwithstanding, somewhat testy, and excessively timorous. The latter disposition is evinced, not only by his flight at Philippi, but by his oft-repeated execrations of a tree, the falling of which, while he was walking in his garden, had nearly proved fatal to him. The former characteristic he frankly owns to; and his narrative of a certain rencounter with a bore forms a humorous commentary on the confession. If readily offended, however, he was as readily appeased; his forgiveness was equally prompt with his resentment. Of either vanity or meanness Horace cannot be justly accused. Although fond of books, and not insensible to his own reputation, he does not seem to have put on the airs of the litterateur; and his liberal praise of Augustus and his minister, is rather to be viewed as the tribute of gratitude than as the incense of servility. From the charge of slothfulness he will not be so easily vindicated. So jealous was he of aught that might impair his ease, that he declined the emperor's solicitation to act as his private amanuensis. Choosing generally to disguise his indolence as contentment, he sometimes freely avows it. Speaking of his early struggles, he states that "stern necessity urged him on to the composition of verses; but now," he adds, "having a competence, I prefer sleeping to scribbling?" If we advert to the inferior features of the poet's chahe, like the Greek lyrist Alcæus, in a similar predica-racter, we can only wonder at the joint existence in ment, threw down his shield, and sought safety in the same mind of so much grossness and so much flight. The amnesty proclaimed by the victors secured genius; and are half constrained to rank the posseshis person from danger, but provided no reparation sor of qualities so antagonistic and apparently inconfor his ruined fortunes. On his return to Rome, he gruous with that depraved though gifted class so emfound his father dead, and his little patrimony ex- phatically described by perhaps its most conspicuous hausted or confiscated. Not only deprived of an in-member, as exhibiting, in strange and unnatural heritance, but even destitute of a home, the poet was forced to fall back on the resources of his own genius. Nor was he suffered to remain long in obscurity and indigence. Virgil and Varius, with both of whom he afterwards lived on terms of intimacy, successively negotiated for him the good offices of Maecenas, the favourite minister of Augustus. Being admitted to a conference, his ingenuous avowals and modest de "He who fights and runs away, May live to fight some other day," alliance, " delicacy, coarseness, sentiment, sensuality, The lyrical compositions of Horace comprise four * Byron's Diary reader with original versions. The moral of the ode which we first present, though the respective inferences are widely different, comes recommended by the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the very highest authority-"Take no thought for the things of itself." The poet entreats the person he calls Leuconoe to abstain from fruitless efforts to discover, by the help of the astrologers, the limits of his life or her own. TO LEUCONOE. 'Tis impious: seek not thou to know Inquisitive Leuconoe! 'Tis better far in peace to 'bide That sendeth now, to lash the shore, Or Heaven in kindness wills us more. In prudence' scales thy schemes to cast: The churl Time posts forward fast. Nor trust a whit the false to-morrow. -B. I. II. In the next ode, Horace, under the guise of allegory, warns the state of some impending peril. The poem, which appears to be an imitation from the Greek, is by some referred to the contemplated resignation by Augustus of the sovereign authority; by others, with more probability, to the civil war between that prince and Antony, which, on this hypothesis, would be on the eve of breaking out at the time when it was written. TO THE REPUBLIC. Oh, tempest-toss'd! must other waves What may thy crippled mast avail ? The winds are up! Unless you choose I warn thee shun the dangerous seas, -B. L. 14. Our next specimen is in the lyrist's finest vein. His purpose seems to be to turn Licinius from some precipitate act, and to press upon him the wisdom of moderation."+ The reader will remark that the image applied throughout the preceding ode to the position of the commonwealth, gains in beauty as descriptive of the fortunes of an individual; being, in the latter instance, relieved and kept from palling, by its association with other appropriate similes. TO LICINIUS. Licinius! list my friendly lore; Nor dare the deep when tempests roar, That wrecks full oft the mariner. The jaundiced eye of jealousy. Full on the cliff's proud pinnacle. The grief that clouds thy brow to-day Nor bends his bow unceasingly. B. II. 10. |