The "Te Deum" for the victory of Dettingen was next gone through, and justified all that had been anticipated of the effect it was likely to produce. The jubilant chorus, "To Thee cherubim and seraphim continually do cry" (in which the trumpets told out capitally), was heard with rapture, and the superb introduction, "We praise Thee, O God," created such an impression as we have been accustomed to think inseparable from the finest pieces in the oratorios. A very grand passage on the words "We acknowledge Thee to be the Lord," involving some peculiarly bold and, so to say, Handelian progressions was admirably given, and established among other facts, that just intonation, even in unexpected changes of harmony, is by no means impossible to a multitudinous congregation of singers. The solo parts in the "Te Deum" were allotted exclusively to Signor Belletti, who thus had to sing the air, "When Thou tookest upon Thee to deliver man," which-in consequence, we presume, of its lying somewhat high for the bass voice-has generally been consigned to a tenor. That the Dettingen "Te Deum" imparted a special interest to the performances on the second day of the commemoration (Wednesday), is, we think, beyond a doubt; nor can the judgment that led to its selection for that occasion be called in question, the improbability being taken into account of any single oratorio, The Messiah and Israel excepted, proving as attractive as this noble Anthem when combined with extracts from Balshazzar, Saul, Samson, and Judas Maccabæus. The selection from Balshazzar consists of the long accompanied recitative, "Rejoice, my countrymen," assigned very discreetly to Mr. Weiss, a practised master of declamation, and the chorus, "Sing, O ye heavens," which ends with a treatment of the "Hallelujah as striking in itself as it is different from any other by the same composer-not more resembling, indeed, the incomparable version of The Messiah than the "Hallelujah" that terminates with pomp and dignity Beethoven's Mount of Olives. From Saul we are to hear the very impressive chorus, "Envy! eldest born of hell," and the "Dead March." The first (which was gloriously executed at rehearsal) is well chosen; the last we cannot but regard as a mistake. Why a dead march under the circumstances? The present festival, although held exactly 100 years after Handel's demise-just as the festival of 1784, in Westminster Abbey and the Pantheon, was held exactly 100 years after his birth-is not to commemorate the death, but to do homage to the genius of the great composer. Handel could not be living now, even had he been endowed with the longevity of old Parr. Any sentimental allusion to his death is, consequently, mere twaddle, and as much beside the question as the drumstick imitation of cannon in the march-which last, considering that we have no account of artillery in the records of Kings Saul and David, is, to say the least, an anachronism. From Samson the two magnificent choruses, "Fix'd in His everlasting Seat" and "Let their celestial choirs rejoice," the air with chorus "Return, O God of Hosts" (Miss Dolby), and "Let the bright Seraphim (Madame Novello) were rehearsed. A more effective choice could not have been made. From Judas Maccabæus only one piece was tried— the trio, with chorus, "See the conquering hero comes (solos by Madame Novello, Madame Rudersdorff, and Miss Dolby), which, by its joyous and exhilarating character, altogether dissipated the gloom engendered by the introduction of the "Dead March." The selection from this famous oratorio, however, constituting the third and last part of Wednesday's performance-is both varied and attractive, as may be seen by the following:

"Sound an alarm." "We hear, we hear."

"From mighty kings." "O never, never, bow we down." "We never, never, will bow down."

"See the conquering hero" comes last, and, appropriately enough, next in succession to the chorus, “We never will bow down."

The remainder of the rehearsal was devoted to Israel in Egypt, most of the choruses in which-besides the duet, "The Lord is my strength" (Mesdames Novello and Lemmens), and the air, "Thou didst blow with Thy wind" (Madame Novello)—were given. Israel was placed last, to allow the singers time to shift places for the double choruses, one-fourth of the choir being compelled to change with the other fourth, basses taking the position occupied by tenors, altos that

53

created such unbounded admiration in 1857 that it was imagined the utmost limits of choral effect had been attained. Not so, however, as was evident when Israel in Egypt was heard on Friday, the last day of the present festival. We shall not, however, indulge the curiosity of our readers with any attempt at description here, inasmuch as whatever we could say would fall short of the reality. Suffice it that the double chorus," He gave them hail-stones for rain," was so splendidly executed, and created so vivid an excitement, that although not a single point demanded further consideration, the audience asked for a repetition with one (uproarious) voice. A request from 20,000 amateurs is almost equivalent to a command; and so even Mr. Costa, the acknowledged "Despot of the Orchestra," was forced to comply. This, nevertheless, was the only instance of the kind that occurred throughout the rehearsal, which went off so well, and with so few "hitches," that in most respects it was just as good as a bona fide public performance.

From the foregoing it will be readily believed that the rehearsal for the Handel Commemoration of 1859 was a brilliant prelude to the festival itself. It could not possibly, indeed, have passed off in a more satisfactory manner; and if this may be accepted as an augury of what is to come, an unprecedented triumph may fairly be anticipated. We have only to add that, previous to and after the musical performances, general curiosity has been raised by a collection, at the "tropical" end of the Palace, consisting of certain articles directly or indirectly related to the immortal composer, and exhibited under the designation of "The Handel Relics." These include manuscript scores (among others The Messiah, Israel, and the Dettingen "Te Deum," lent by Her Majesty); authentic portraits of Handel himself, and of some of his contemporaries; the score of Acis and Galatea, with the leaves that are wanting in the Queen's copy; the Roubillac statue, the harpischord upon which several of Handel's greatest works were composed; and other subjects of more or less interest.

GIVING AND TEACHING.-Kindliness of disposition having been cultivated, judgment in its exercise must be cared for. When ought we to share, when not; when to give, when to refuse? There must be limits to sharing and giving; what are they? Our kindliness of disposition ought to be none the less when duty orders us to refuse. Kindliness of disposition in conjunction with courage, might summon us to rescue a fugitive or a captive, but not one who had committed a crime and was striving to escape from justice. When we should give and when refuse alms is a question for the judgment; and you would scarcely think you were acting creditably by your own, if, instead of facing the difficulty, determined to solve it, or to confess yourselves foiled, you consented to evade it-you will meet with people who excuse indiscriminate alms-giving thus:-Better that ninety-nine undeserving men should receive, than that one deserving man should suffer want. In repressing crime, men do not shuffle in this manner. A thousand prisoners are suspected, tried, and convicted. They are believed to have been guilty, according to the best judgment that could be formed on a careful consideration of the evidence. And yet it has happened, and may happen again, that one in a thousand is not guilty. Society could not exist if crime were not repressed. The innocent must be sifted from the guilty with all possible care, but the remote risk of the conviction of innocence must be endured for the sake of protection. A community distinguished by kindliness of disposition and judgment, having decided that no human being shall be abandoned to perish by want, and having made arrangements for preventing so sad an occurence, indiscriminate alms-giving becomes recklessness-it is not kindliness of feeling. Giving without inquiry justifies itself sometimes in this form :-I give to gratify and cultivate my own feelings of benevolence. I encourage my children to do the same for the purpose of cultivating theirs. Strange misconstruction of the duty owed to one's self and to the young. Ought we to close our understandings against the conditions of well-being which we have been investigating? Is the time never to come when children having learned these conditions, and been trained to conform to them, shall abide by the habits formed and subsequently confirmed by judgment? Kindliness of disposition, guided and fortified by judgment, recognises the different consequences of good and ill conduct. It steps forward to mitigate the consequences of ill conduct; and, knowing that those consequences can only be mitigated and are not to be removed, resolves in pity for human suffering that like consequences shall be averted from others, through more careful teaching and training of the

THE EOLIAN HARP AT MIDSUMMER MIDNIGHT.

Spirit of Harmony! to whom belong

All utter'd concords, and concerted sounds;
O Spirit! cherish'd thro' Creation's bounds,
Visit my Harp Eolian and prolong,

Throughout this hallow'd night, its mystic singing,
On all its quiv'ring strings the changes ringing.
The midnight Moon is shining for thy greeting,

The breath of Midsummer thy path perfuming:
The Stars are jubilant, their Empress meeting,
And Nature revels, on the time presuming.

Then, strike the strings, till e'en the song-birds, dreaming,
Start from their sleep to listen, and the skies
Swell the ascending echoes as they rise,

And air, and earth, around, with melody are teeming.

The breezes fan thee gently with their wooing,

And kiss thy chords, my Wind-harp! very sweetly,
That murmur low, like turtledoves when cooing,
Or lovers, in their vows absorb'd completely.
Anon, a merrier zephyr of the chorus

Twangs, like a frolic maiden, brisker chimes,
At whose shrill summons, from the elfin climes,
Their fays, and forest-sprites, career before us;
Circle in the air, or dance in greensward-rings,
Transpierc'd with starbeams, gay with glitt ring wings.
Join in their sports, my Fancy! and enjoy them,
Till the illusions, yonder Lyre attending,
With its divinest intonations blending,

Take form from thee so clear, no time can e'er destroy them.

The music melteth to a dying fall,

A cadence dwindling into silence breathless;
A strange dead calm of sound; recall, recall,
The lapsed symphonies, O Spirit deathless!
The answ'ring Spirit moves upon the strings,
And a new chaunt along the night-air flings;
That chaunt at yonder lattice, softly creeping,
Through its blush-roses, on my lady's slumbers,
Fills them with pleasant images, in keeping

With the expressive pulsing of its numbers.
Lo! as I listen to its serenading,
Delicious drowsiness, my senses shading,
Lures me to seek my couch ere dawning light,
And wish my Neighbour fair, and Wind-harp wild, good night.
J. J., Author of the "Rural Sonnets."

THE MIDSHIPMAN'S THREE DINNERS.-I do not think there is any harm in putting the following story on record. It was told me, many years ago, by the hero of it, my very valued friend, Captain (afterwards Admiral Sir Francis) Beaufort. There are many men in whose mouths such a story would pass for a flourish ; but all who knew Sir Francis Beaufort also knew how singularly and eminently free he was from all disposition to exaggerate. In fact, nothing but the notoriety of his character in this respect, and in several others which tend in the same way, would justify the publication; to gain him the reputation of a mender of good stories would be rather a difficult task. The oddity of the circumstance struck me so much that I remember the details, and almost the phrases. We were talking of a midshipman's appetite, as a thing which bears a high character for energy and punctuality, and Captain Beaufort said it had never been fully tried how many dinners a midshipman could eat in one day. "I," said he, "got as far as three." I begged to know the particulars, and he gave them as follows:-"I had eaten my dinner at the midshipman's table, and a very good one as I always did. After it, the captain's steward came up, and said: The captain's compliments, and desires the favour of your company to dinner.' But I've dined' said I. 'For, mercy sake don't say that, sir,' said he, for I shall be in a scrape if you do; I ought to have asked you this morning, but I forgot.' So I thought I must go; and two hours afterwards I did go, and I dined, and I think I made my usual good dinner. Just as we rose from table, a signal was made by the admiral to send an officer on board, and as it was my turn, I had to go off in the boat. When I got on board the admiral's ship, the admiral said to me: 'Ah! Mr. Beaufort, I believe.' 'Yes, sir,' said I. Well, Mr. Beaufort,' said he, the papers you are to take back will not be ready this half-hour; but I am just sitting down to dinner, and shall be glad of your company.' Now, you know, as to a midshipman refusing to dine with the admiral, there was not the word for it in the naval dictionary. So I sat down to my third dinner, and I am sure I did very well; and got back to my own ship just in time for tea."-Notes and Queries.

THE FRENCH THEATRE.

AS REPRESENTED BEFORE THE EMPERORS AND KINGS AT ERFURT,

What a

WHAT an extraordinary movement existed in the year 1808, in the contracted limits of this ancient city of Erfurt, which is now so dull and deserted! What a period was that, when the omnipotent will of the wonderful man, who afterwards for many years reposed on the rock of St. Helena from the astonishing dream of his life, concentrated in this spot, as by the stroke of a magician's wand, emperors, kings, and all that was renowned and illustrious among mankind! tumult of brilliant equipages with six and eight horses, among which thronged the crowd of spectators, eager to indulge their curiosity, although at the imminent peril of being crushed or trodden under foot! Citizens and rustics, strangers from all countries, courtiers in their richly-embroidered costumes, whose antique form, now recalled into use, appeared almost ridiculous to the children of a new generation. Polish Jews, statesmen, and officers covered with ribbons and crosses, the wives of citizens, and ladies exquisitely apparelled, porters, and female peasants with their paniers at their backs, all crowded together, and endeavoured to make their way through the motley group. From time to time the French soldiers, marching to exercise with military music, added to the confusion of the throughfares. The street of Anger, however extensive, all the other streets, in fact the entire city, was insufficient to accommodate the strangers who had flocked to Erfurt. The principal inhabitants were driven out of their apartments, and took refuge in the garrets of their domestics, to make room for the train of the emperor of the French; and in the streets which were remote from the centre of the city, the proprietors of houses were rejoiced at the harvest of gold which they reaped from the letting of their lodgings. The hotels were crowded to the very roofs.

Napoleon had brought in his train to Erfurt, the principal performers of the French theatre. Talma, Mademoiselle Duchesnois, Mademoiselle Mars, the exquisite Georges, and the beautiful Burgoing, appeared several times each week to play their finest pieces before the august assemblage; and for this purpose, a small theatre, which was discovered in the old college of the Jesuits, had been arranged with a truly French promptitude and elegance.

For each representation tickets of admission to the boxes were distributed among the foreign and native ladies; but it was no easy matter to obtain them. It was necessary to enter into a long, tedious and ceremonious correspondence with our frieuds, who were in the suite of the grand-duke of Weimar; it occasioned them much trouble, and they had to make interest with the state footman up to M. de Champagny, before my fair friends and myself could obtain tickets to witness the representation of the tragedy of Edipus, in which Talma and Mademoiselle Raucourt were to play. Our party arrived at Erfurt, from Weimar, separated in several carriages; we deposited our precious tickets in the apartments which we had engaged at the hotel, and made an attempt to walk in the streets; but the shocking confusion and crowd in every part of the city, compelled us to return to our rooms. We counted our tickets, and were thunderstruck, when we perceived that two of them were missing. It was in vain that we searched everywhere in the room, had the carpets taken up, and examined every piece of furniture-the tickets had disappeared. One of the waiters had, most probably, made something by them; for these tickets of admission were great articles of traffic at that time, and strangers arriving at Erfurt, without any acquaintances there, frequently paid more than a louis d'or for one.

"Ah! if we had but one or two young officers with us now," sighed the youngest and fairest of our party; "for an epaulet or a decoration are equivalent to a ticket here." The idea was an excellent one. Among our friends at Erfurt, we soon discovered some cavaliers of the right sort, and it was under their escort and protection that we bent our steps towards the theatre, through the awful crowd by which its avenues were besieged. At the top of the staircase we were received by an officer of the guard, who distributed our party into several boxes of the theatre, which was still almost empty.

I was fortunate enough, with two of my friends, to be placed in the front seat of a box close to the stage, from whence we could observe everything that took place in the house. We congratulated ourselves on being so comfortably accommodated, but our joy did not continue long. The boxes near ours were soon filled to overflowing, and the door of the one we occupied was hastily opened.

"What!" said the soldier or gendarme, I know not which, under whose superintendence we were placed-"what! three women occupying three chairs! There's room for six, at least !" and so saying, he introduced between us two ladies, with whom fortunately we were well acquainted.

All the boxes, as well as ours, became more and more crowded; we were mercilessly squeezed; we could scarcely move, and almost fainted with the heat, but we had no time to be ill; the importance of the grand spectacle, which was beginning to arrange itself under our eyes in the pit, so absorbed our attention, to the exclusion of everything else, that we forgot all the incumbrances of our position.

Immediately in front of the stage, two arm-chairs were placed for the two emperors, and on each side of these were ranged common chairs for the kings and reigning princes. The space behind these seats began to be filled. We saw the statesmen and generals of the greatest powers of Europe enter-men with whose names the world. then rang, and which have now become a part and parcel of history. Their uniform stiffened with gold-lace, and their air of vivacity and assurance distinguished the French from the more staid and serious Germans. There were Berthier, Soult, Caulaincourt, Savary, Lasnes, Duroc, and many others equally illustrious; and it seemed as if the grandeur of their master was reflected upon the features of each. We saw Goethe, with his calm and dignified physiognomy; and the venerable Wieland, whom the grand-duke of Weimar had brought with him to Erfurt. The duke of Gotha, and many German princes, who were either sovereigns or allied to reigning houses, were grouped around the two patriarchs of German literature.

The rolling of drums was now heard outside.

"It is the emperor !" exclaimed every voice in the theatre. "Fools and imbeciles! what are you about?" shouted forth the commanding officer in a rage to the drummers. "It is only a king!"

And in fact a German king was ushered into the theatre; and three other monarchs appeared shortly afterward. Without ceremony, and without salute, the kings of Saxony, Bavaria, and Wirtemburgh made their appearance. The king of Westphalia, who arrived later, eclipsed them all by the splendour of his rich embroidery, and the brilliancy of his jewels. The emperor Alexander, distinguished by his majestic stature, next seated himself in his arm-chair. The large box exactly opposite the centre of the stage dazzled all eyes, by the bursts of splendour which it flung around. The queen of Westphalia, covered with diamonds, sat in the middle; close to her, the charming Stephanie, grand-duchess of Baden, was more remarkable for her grace and beauty than for her dress. Some German princesses were seated near the two sovereign ladies; while the gentlemen and ladies of their court occupied the back of the box.

At this moment, Talleyrand made his appearance in a small box, constructed expressly for him, on a level with the pit, and close to the stage, because the weakness of his feet would not allow of his standing in the pit among the men. The emperor and the kings stood in front of his box, to converse with the minister, who was seated comfortably and at his ease. Everybody was at the rendezvous, except HIM who had brought all these grandees together; he was still absent, and he made them wait a long time.

At length a deeper and more prolonged roll on the drums was heard, and all eyes were turned with anxious curiosity to the place of entrance and then he was seen, this most incomprehensible man, of this most inconceivable epoch. He was dressed in the plainest manner possible, which he always preferred; and, slightly saluting the assembled sovereigns whom he had caused to wait so long, he took possession of his arm-chair at the right of the emperor of Russia. His compact and rather short figure, contrasted with the elegant shape of Alexander. The four kings seated themselves on their chairs without arms, and the play began; but it was in vain that Talma displayed all his art; and that Raucourt, whose beauty and talent had preserved their attractions for half a century, lamented the ravages which Jocasta's weak charms had caused-for we had no eyes or attention for anything but the spectacle which the pit presented. Nevertheless, the gendarmes at the door of our box did their best to complete our deficient education, and to inculcate upon us, between the acts, the etiquette which we should observe in the presence of the master of the world!

"Take away that opera-glass! The emperor does not like to be looked at in that way!" said one of them, leaning over the heads of all the ladies who were seated behind us.

"Sit upright, and don't stretch your neck so!" said another-" the emperor dislikes it!"

We were rather impatient at this schooling; but we took an example from the kings and princes before us, and we endured philosophically from the French what it was not in our power avoid.

Immediately after the commencement of the tragedy, which he had witnessed, perhaps, a hundred times, Napoleon settled himself com

55

known that he could sleep whenever he pleased both day and night; and eye-witnesses have assured us, that in the very middle of a decisive battle, he purposely slept for an hour or two, in order to recruit himself and to collect new energy, and that he always awoke at the hour he had fixed. On this very day he had fatigued himself manoeuvring his troops for many hours over a great extent of country. It was a singular sight for us to behold that terrible man wrapped in gentle slumber, whose gigantic plans were to cause the happiness or misery of half the earth. Twenty years have since (1828) glided away -it is scarcely a third part of the life of man-and yet how many changes have taken place in this short interval? What a powerful upward flight the world has taken in this fifth part of a century? What exists now, could not then have been guessed. How curiously has Time brandished his scythe in this fraction of space, and what a terrible harvest has he gathered! Where are the kings, the mighty and the great, who were assembled in that hall? Where is he who called them together? He reposes for ever on the rock round which the waves of the ocean are mourning. The short and beautiful existence of Alexander has closed. The kings of Saxony, Bavaria and Wirtemburgh, sleep in their marble sepulchres. There is not one who has survived them but King Jerome; and his celebrity, like a morning dream, has evaporated with his whimsical royalty.

The grand-duchess of Baden, the beautiful Stephanie, has long wept over the grave of her husband, who was snatched from her arms in the flower of his age; the duke of Gotha, who needed not his title of prince to charm the world, is dead, and in him his race was extinguished; and Duke Charles Augustus of Weimar no longer lives but in the memory of his subjects. Alas! with how many illustrious names might not this melancholy obituary-list be swelled!

THE STUDY OF NATURE, CONSIDERED IN REFERENCE TO MUSIC.

It is related of an elderly lady, whose piety and discretion were supposed far to outweigh all her pretensions to intellectual acquirements, that she preferred rather to be blind than deaf. "Indeed!" said an observer-" and why do you prefer it?" "Because," said the good woman,--and her eyes, mild as they always were, kindled up with fervency at the question-"because, if I were blind alone, I should still enjoy the pleasure of hearing my favourite minister preach."

I remember this story, perfectly authentic as I believe it, because it discloses to my mind the fact, that there are, in the material and animate world about us, sources of the richest and most varied pleasure resulting from the harmony of sound and the melody of the voice.

In the inimitable description of loneliness given by Cowper, who does not remember, with deep and affecting interest, the following

stanzas ?

"I am out of humanity's reach,

I must finish my journey alone-
Never hear the sweet music of speech,
I start at the sound of my own!"

How perfect his description of his lonely habitation! but when to the solitude and utter want of every form or semblance of human beings, he adds in his own peculiar way, that henceforth he must miss the sweet sound of the human voice, how cheerless and alone does he seem to us! No one can be insensible of the richness and beauty of certain tones of the voice, which convey to us not only a musical, but a moral and a humane expression. I had almost said it is impossible so to disguise the voice as to convey a meaning not intended by the speaker.

I am delighted to listen to the voices of children, recreating and refreshing their spirits with their boyish sports, and calling or answering one another in all the hilarity and careless gaiety of youth. There is music to me in the very sound of their voices-full, fresh, and free, as they come ringing on the ear, and awakening in the hearts of the listeners, associations too painful for utterance, and yet too sweet and too sacred to be forgotten. We seem to say to them,

"Play on, play on-I am with you there,
In the midst of your merry ring;

I can feel the thrills of the daring jump,
And the rush of the breathless swing.'

sportiveness of lighthearted creatures; but the thrilling sound of the voice was wanting to perfect the picture of youthful happiness.

It seems to me that Providence has guarded the ear especially for the enjoyment we may derive from the sounds occurring to us every day.

The Rural Sounds referred to by Cowper in the " Task," how beautifully are they described and yet to the very limited number he has introduced and endeared to us by the charms of his song, how indefinitely may one go on, adding sound to sound, combining the beauty and richness of each with the united melody of all, till all animated nature shall be revealed in its harmony before him!

It is remarkable how beautifully the effect of sounds (rural sounds I mean) may be heightened by our familiarity with them. Who has not pleased himself with a lonely walk where the Katy-did makes vocal the air with its merry and careless song? Whose feelings have not been repeatedly enlivened and re-assured by the gentle, but quickly successive sounds of the grasshoppers-skipping in their gladsomeness all around him, starting up wherever he treads his foot, and telling him, as plainly as they can speak, how kindly Providence hath laid in store for the happiness and enjoyment of all?

And who has not felt his passions suddenly, but not with abruptness, checked in their career, and he himself brought most seriously to pause and reckon with his own heart,-when he has walked where the plaintive cricket alone could be heard, repeating in a monitory but not reproachful tone, the tale of the listener's faults, and kindly urging him to amend his life, and walk in the path that was peaceful and pure?

I knew a school-boy who used sometimes to squander the hour allotted for his evening task, in thoughtless conversations, or listlessness or play. "Often," says he, "when I walked at night, stillness and beauty and repose everywhere around me, would the quiet and unobtrusive, but reproachful, song of the cricket attract my attention, and so hold me in fearful suspense by his repeated tales of my remissness of duty."

The music of birds has been so frequently remarked upon, that scarcely anything new may now be expected to be said of it. And yet I much doubt whether, even here in this moral and highly intellectual community, we appreciate fully, if at all, the pleasure derivable from that simple source. In that beautiful oriental poem, the Canticles, so full of nature and of love, we find all to this subject in language highly beautiful, even in the translator's dress. From our own vivid recollections of childhood, we may learn something of the effect the music of birds produces on minds unsophisticated and unvexed by the artificialities and the cares of life. I remember in one of Mr. Tennyson's beautiful poems-" New-Year's Eve "-he introduces a country girl, wasting away with consumption, and expecting soon to die. Her home was among the lowly and humble and obscure in life, but her mind was keenly alive to the pleasures of the country, to its beautiful sights and its still more beautiful sounds. But, from these she was soon to be called away. Observe how sweet, how submissive, and how plaintive her language.

That the voices, no less than the conduct of birds, are indicative of their emotions, all will admit. And then this fact admitted, what an interesting field of thought and speculation opens before us! Birds have emotions! Yes, doubtless, the tones of their voice, no less than the quick glancing of the eye-the fluttering of the wing-the throbbing of the breast-the activity of the whole body, plainly denote it! I am delighted with the anecdote Wilson has given us of a wounded woodpecker. "The bird," says he, in reference to one he had taken, "was only wounded in the wing, and on being caught uttered a most piteous note, resembling the crying of a young child, which terrified my horse so as nearly to have cost me my life. It was distressing to hear it. In passing through the streets, its affecting cries surprised every one within hearing, particularly the female, who hurried to the doors with looks of anxiety. On my return to my room he set up the same distressing shout-he had been attempting to escape. While engaged in taking a drawing of him, he cut me severely in several places, and displayed such a noble and unconquerable spirit, that I was frequently tempted to restore him to his native woods. He lived with me nearly three days, but refused all sustenance; and I witnessed his death with regret."-New-York Musical Review.

66

THE PHILANTHROPIST.

"Affairs of honour" attract company, as well as marriages, baptisms, and funerals. I could cite you five or six individuals, well known in Paris, who are forced, as seconds, into every duel about to come off" at certain celebrated places of rendezvous; these persons are so notorious, that one never thinks of addressing himself to any other. Indeed, I am not very sure but that you may read upon their visiting card-"Mr. -, legal adviser in affairs of honour '-such a number-in such a street. N.B. Office for consultations open from twelve p.m. to seven a.m.' These gentlemen go thoroughly into the business-possessing every description of weapon, from a firelock down to a toothpick; with them an "affair" is never satisfactorily arranged without forfeiture of breath by one or other opponent. Were the unlucky ball simply to fracture an arm or a leg, honour would be but half way repaired.

I have had one duel in the course of my lifetime; it is considered as necessary to the existence of a fashionable young man as sojourn. ing in St. Pelagie; in short, he cannot be said to have lived at all, without, at least, having exchanged cards, turned deceiver, and killed his fellow-man.

As a matter of course, to seek my seconds, I bent my way to the "office of general administration." I addressed myself to a couple of charming youths, with whom I had not conversed five minutes ere I came to the decision, either to fall myself or to slay my adversary. The latter project pleased me better than the former; and it is but justice to my seconds in stating, that they perfectly coincided with

me.

We jumped into a hack, with the accompaniments of four swords, two pistols, thirty balls, half a pound of royal powder, first quality, and we reached Montmartre, the place of rendezvous.

Thanks to my friends, it was promptly settled that we should commence with the sword and terminate with the pistol, in the event of the former weapon inflicting but a mere scratch. Our blades flashed in the sun, when, presto! a man clad as half-citizen, half-peasant, and appearing, as it were, to rise out from the earth, precipitated himself between myself and my adversary, and flatly declared that we should not fight.

At this unlooked-for interruption, my seconds stormed and raved, quoted the article of the charte which refers to the protection of individual liberty, and were for sending to the right-about this unwelcome guest. He assumed a good-humoured countenance, stood his ground firmly, and declared imperatively that we should not fight. "I will not allow you to fight," said he; "you have no reason for coming to such an extremity. I shall not quit you, and one shall not pierce his antagonist's body without previously transfixing mine." Our seconds discharged volleys of most insulting language, which in nowise changed this droll character either in aspect or resolution. "Have your say out," quoth he, very coolly, "but these gentlemen shall not fight."

"This is insupportable," cries one of my seconds; "let us be off, gentlemen-away to Vincennes; there, at least, we shall be free from the interruptions of originals' of the same species as that fellow." We re-entered the coach, and arrived at the wood of Vincennes. Having selected a convenient spot, we reined up, and were preparing to descend, when we perceived cur hero, who had seated himself behind the coach, advance, and obligingly come and let down the steps for our descent.

"Did I not tell you that you should not fight," said he, smiling. 'To Fontainbleau," exclaimed our seconds.

"As you please," replied the other, as, folding up the steps, he added, "I have no particular engagement; besides, I take infinite delight in pleasure excursions."

He shut the door, and was preparing quietly to resume his seat behind, when we could contain ourselves no longer at this last stroke, and burst out into roars of laughter; we invited our unceremonious guest to an inside place; and, instead of going to Fontainbleau, descended at a restaurateur's, where we sealed our reconciliation with a hearty breakfast.

The repast concluded, our "original" stole out; we waited his return upward of half an hour; at length, we decided to depart with. out him. He had disappeared, after having defrayed the reckoning.

MUSCLES OF CATERPILLARS.-It is stated by Lyonnet, who devoted many years to the study of the anatomy of the larva of the goatmoth, that this contains 4,041 distinct muscles.