Chapter IX (2)

Then the eyes of the queen rested on her spouse, and she blushed. But the king said, That look, my beloved, is an evidence to me, that I have exercised the right of retaliation. He who deceived you is deceived in return, and to you will be given the noble instead of the base! The blush on your cheeks, which appears to me more beautiful than the royal purple that adorns you, is also my reward. For your countenance assures me that I have acted like the representative and vicegerent of the Highest!

Then the drums announced the termination of the spectacle, and the people cried, All hail, our king and queen!

Bear and Child.

Leopold, Duke of Lorraine, had a bear called Marco, of the sagacity and generosity of which we have the following remarkable instance. During the winter of 1709, a Savoyard boy, ready to perish with cold, in a barn in which he had been put by a woman with some more of his companions, thought proper to enter Marco’s hut, without reflecting on the danger he incurred in exposing himself to the mercy of the animal which occupied it.

Marco, however, instead of doing any injury to the child, took him between his paws, and warmed him by pressing him to his breast, until the next morning, when he suffered him to depart and ramble about the city. The boy returned in the evening to the hut, and was received with the same affection. For several days he had no other retreat, and it added not a little to his joy to perceive that the bear regularly reserved a part of his food for him.

A number of days passed in this manner without the servants knowing anything of the circumstance. At length, one day, when one of them came to bring the bear his supper rather later than usual, he was astonished to see the child quietly asleep, clasped in the paws of the bear. The animal rolled its eyes in a furious manner, and seemed desirous that he should make as little noise as possible, for fear of waking his favorite. The bear, though ravenous, did not appear in the least moved by the food which was placed before him.

The report of this extraordinary circumstance was soon spread at court, and reached the ears of Leopold; who, with some of his courtiers, was desirous of being satisfied of the truth of Marco’s generosity. Several of them passed the night near his hut, and beheld with astonishment that the bear never stirred so long as his guest showed any inclination to sleep. At break of day, the child awoke, and was very much ashamed to find himself discovered, and fearing that he should be punished for his rashness, begged pardon. The bear, however, caressed him, and endeavored to prevail on him to eat what had been brought him the evening before, which he did at the request of the spectators who conducted him to the prince.

Having learned the whole history of this singular alliance, and the time which it had continued, Leopold ordered that the little Savoyard should be taken care of; but unhappily the child died a short time after.

The Last Flower of the Season.

Marion and her father were walking in the fields. It was November, and the sharp frosts had cut down the flowers. Even the asters were withered and perished. But the little girl came at last to a single blossom that had survived. It was a small and humble flower, and it grew upon a barren spot. But it had found shelter between the stones, and its very obscurity had been the means of its protection. The gaudier blossoms around,--those that flourished in the richer soil and in more elevated stations--had fallen before the breath of approaching winter. Marion stooped and plucked the little blossom that seemed to shine like a gem amid the desolation around, and her father made this reflection. “See, Marion, how this blossom has withstood the frost which has swept down its more stately companions. It was humble, and therefore content with a lowly station. This humility has saved it from destruction. It is with us, my child, as with the flowers. The humble and obscure positions of life are often not only the most quiet, but also the most safe from the temptations, sins, and sorrows, which sweep down those who seek and obtain more ambitious situations.”

The Cunning Bear.

A FABLE.

Among the bears that lived in the woods, there was one that thought himself very wise. He was, in fact, very selfish, and cared for nobody but himself. I am now going to tell you a story, which will show you how the cunning beast overreached and ruined himself.

In the country of the bears of which I am speaking, there were a good many Indians. These had set a trap so contrived that if a bear should attempt to get the bait, a heavy stone would fall upon his back and crush him.

The bait consisted of a nice leg of venison, and as one of the bears came that way, its delicious flavor attracted his attention. He approached cautiously, and perceived that the meat was only the bait of a trap. He went and told what he had discovered to some of his companions, and quite a company of bears assembled to take the subject into consideration.

Among the rest was our cunning bear. He listened to the various observations of his friends, and finally, assuming a grave and honest look, he rose upon his hind legs, stretched forth his right paw, and spoke as follows:

“My dear friends, allow me to address you: this piece of
meat is placed here to tempt you into the trap; be not
deceived, and risk not your lives for a momentary
gratification. What folly would it be for you, or any other
bear, to purchase pleasure at so high a price. Listen to the
words of wisdom: let us all depart, and disappoint the
schemes of our deceitful enemies!”

This counsel seemed very wise, and being uttered with a benignant countenance and an air of great sincerity, made a deep impression. Accordingly, the whole troop dispersed, and went their several ways into the wood.

But the cunning bear had spoken for others rather than himself. No sooner was the coast clear, than he turned a short corner, and went slily back to the leg of venison. “Now,” said he, “that I have got rid of my neighbors, I’ll have a feast all to myself. I’m not afraid of the trap. I’ve cheated these Indians many a time. I know how to slip off the meat without springing the trap. What fools there are in the world! These savages catch the deer, and these silly bears leave it for the wise ones. I know a thing or two. Fools kill, and the wise ones eat, the venison.”

With these reflections, our hero stepped slily into the mouth of the trap. He put up his nose very gently, and fixed his teeth in the haunch of venison. He then gave it a gentle pull, and it was nearly free, when the trap sprung, and the enormous stone came down upon Bruin’s back with a tremendous crash!

The poor beast struggled, and groaned, and growled terribly, but all in vain. At last he expired, making this reflection, “After all, I do not see that we cunning people are any better off than anybody else. Soon or late we overreach ourselves, and perish with the miserable consciousness that we deserve our doom.”

* * * * *

RECENT experiments have shown the velocity of electricity to be 576,000 miles in a second. At this rate it would perform the circuit of the earth _three times in the twinkling of an eye_!

The Tiger’s Cave.

AN ADVENTURE AMONG THE MOUNTAINS
OF QUITO.

On leaving the Indian village, we continued to wind round Chimborazo’s wide base; but its snow-crowned head no longer shone above us in clear brilliancy, for a dense fog was gathering gradually around it. Our guides looked anxiously towards it, and announced their apprehensions of a violent storm. We soon found that their fears were well founded. The thunder began to roll, and resounded through the mountainous passes with the most terrific grandeur. Then came the vivid lightning; flash following flash--above, around, beneath,--everywhere a sea of fire. We sought a momentary shelter in the cleft of the rocks, whilst one of our guides hastened forward to seek a more secure asylum. In a short time he returned and informed us that he had discovered a spacious cavern, which would afford us sufficient protection from the elements. We proceeded thither immediately, and with great difficulty and some danger at last got into it.

When the storm had somewhat abated, our guides ventured out to ascertain if it were possible to continue our journey. The cave in which we had taken refuge, was so extremely dark, that, if we moved a few paces from the entrance, we could not see an inch before us; and we were debating as to the propriety of leaving it, even before the Indians came back, when we suddenly heard a singular groaning or growling in the farther end of the cavern, which instantly fixed all our attention. Wharton and myself listened anxiously, but our inconsiderate young friend Lincoln, together with my huntsman, crept about on their hands and knees, and endeavored to discover, by groping, whence the sound proceeded.

They had not advanced far into the cavern, before we heard them utter an exclamation of surprise; and they returned to us, each carrying in his arms, an animal singularly marked, about the size of a cat, seemingly of great strength and power, and furnished with immense fangs. The eyes were of a green color; strong claws were upon their feet; and a blood red tongue hung out of their mouths. Wharton had scarcely glanced at them, when he exclaimed in consternation, “We have come into the den of a ----.” He was interrupted by a fearful cry of dismay from our guides, who came rushing precipitately towards us, calling out, “A tiger, a tiger!” and, at the same time, with extraordinary rapidity, they climbed up a cedar tree which stood at the entrance of the cave, and hid themselves among the branches.

After the first sensation of horror and surprise, which rendered me motionless for a moment, had subsided, I grasped my fire-arms. Wharton had already regained his composure and self-possession; and he called to us to assist in blocking up the mouth of the cave with an immense stone which fortunately lay near it. The sense of imminent danger augmented our strength; for we now distinctly heard the growl of the ferocious animal, and we were lost beyond redemption, if he reached the entrance before we could get it closed. Ere this was done we could distinctly see the tiger bounding towards the spot, and stooping in order to creep into his den by the narrow opening. At this fearful moment, our exertions were successful, and the great stone kept the wild beast at bay.

There was a small open space, however, left between the top of the entrance and the stone, through which we could see the head of the animal, illuminated by his glowing eyes, which he rolled glaring with fury upon us. His frightful roaring, too, penetrated to the depths of the cavern, and was answered by the hoarse growling of the cubs. Our ferocious enemy attempted first to remove the stone with his powerful claws, and then to push it with his head from its place; and these efforts proving abortive, served only to increase his wrath. He uttered a tremendous heart-piercing growl, and his flaming eyes darted light into the darkness of our retreat.

“Now is the time to fire at him,” said Wharton, with his usual calmness; “aim at his eyes; the ball will go through his brain, and we shall then have a chance to get rid of him.”

Frank seized his double-barrelled gun and Lincoln his pistols. The former placed the muzzle within a few inches of the tiger, and Lincoln did the same. At Wharton’s command they both drew their triggers at the same moment; but no shot followed. The tiger, who seemed aware that the flash indicated an attack upon him, sprang growling from the entrance, but finding himself unhurt, immediately turned back, and stationed himself in his former place. The powder in both pieces was wet.

“All is now over,” said Wharton; “we have only now to choose whether we shall die of hunger, together with these animals who are shut up along with us, or open the entrance to the blood thirsty monster without, and so make a quicker end of the matter.”

So saying, he placed himself close beside the stone, which for the moment defended us, and looked undauntedly upon the lightning eyes of the tiger. Lincoln raved, and Frank took a piece of strong cord from his pocket and hastened to the further end of the cave, I knew not with what design. We soon, however, heard a low, stifled groaning; the tiger, which had heard it also became more restless and disturbed than ever. He went backwards and forwards, before the entrance of the cave, in the most wild and impetuous manner; then stood still, and stretching out his neck towards the forest, broke forth into a deafening howl.

Our two Indian guides took advantage of this opportunity, to discharge several arrows from the tree; but the light weapons bounded back harmless from his thick skin. At length, however, one of them struck him near the eye, and the arrow remained sticking in the wound. He now broke anew into the wildest fury, sprang at the tree and tore it with his claws as if he would have dragged it to the ground. But having at length succeeded in getting rid of the arrow, he became more calm, and laid himself down, as before, in front of the cave.

Frank now returned from the lower end of the den, and a glance showed us what he had been doing. In each hand, and dangling from the end of a string, were the two cubs. He had strangled them, and, before we were aware what he intended, he threw them through the opening to the tiger. No sooner did the animal perceive them, than he gazed earnestly upon them, and began to examine them closely, turning them cautiously from side to side. As soon as he became aware that they were dead, he uttered so piercing a howl of sorrow, that we were obliged to put our hands to our ears.

The thunder had now ceased, and the storm had sunk to a gentle gale; the songs of the birds were again heard in the neighboring forest, and the sunbeams sparkled in the drops that hung from the leaves. We saw, through the aperture, how all nature was reviving, after the wild war of elements, which had so recently taken place; but the contrast only made our situation the more horrible. The tiger had laid himself down beside his whelps. He was a beautiful animal, of great size and strength; and his limbs being stretched out at their full length, displayed his immense power of muscle. A double row of great teeth stood far enough apart to show his large red tongue, from which the white foam fell in large drops.

All at once, another roar was heard at a distance, and the tiger immediately rose and answered it with a mournful howl. At the same instant, our Indians uttered a shriek, which announced that some new danger threatened us. A few moments confirmed our worst fears; for another tiger, not quite so large as the former, came rapidly towards the spot where we were.

The howls which the tigress gave, when she had examined the bodies of her cubs, surpassed everything of horrible that we had yet heard; and the tiger mingled his mournful cries with hers. Suddenly her roaring was lowered to a hoarse growling, and we saw her anxiously stretch out her head, extend her wide and smoking nostrils, and look as if she were determined to discover immediately the murderers of her young. Her eyes quickly fell upon us, and she made a spring forward, with the intention of penetrating our place of refuge. Perhaps she might have been enabled, by her immense strength, to push away the stone, had we not, with all our united power, held it against her.

When she found that all her efforts were fruitless, she approached the tiger, who lay stretched out beside his cubs, and he rose and joined in her hollow roarings. They stood together for a few moments, as if in consultation, and then suddenly went off at a rapid pace, and disappeared from our sight. Their howlings died away in the distance, and then entirely ceased.

Our Indians descended from their tree, and called upon us to seize the only possibility of yet saving ourselves, by instant flight, for that the tigers had only gone round the height to seek another inlet into the cave, with which they were no doubt acquainted. In the greatest haste the stone was pushed aside, and we stepped forth from what we had considered a living grave. We now heard once more the roaring of the tigers, though at a distance, and, following the example of our guides, we precipitately struck into a side path. From the number of roots and branches of trees, with which the storm had strewed our way, and the slipperiness of the road, our flight was slow and difficult.

We had proceeded thus for about a quarter of an hour, when we found that our way led along a rocky cliff, with innumerable fissures. We had just entered upon it, when suddenly the Indians, who were before us, uttered one of their piercing shrieks, and we immediately became aware that the tigers were in pursuit of us. Urged by despair, we rushed towards one of the breaks, or gulfs in our way, over which was thrown a bridge of reeds, that sprang up and down at every step, and could be trod with safety by the light foot of the Indians alone. Deep in the hollow below rushed an impetuous stream, and a thousand pointed and jagged rocks threatened destruction on every side.

Lincoln, my huntsman, and myself passed over the chasm in safety, but Wharton was still in the middle of the waving bridge, and endeavoring to steady himself, when both the tigers were seen to issue from the adjoining forest; and the moment they descried us, they bounded towards us with dreadful roarings. Meanwhile, Wharton had nearly gained the safe side of the gulf, and we were all clambering up the rocky cliff, except Lincoln, who remained at the reedy bridge, to assist his friend to step upon firm ground. Wharton, though the ferocious animals were close upon him, never lost his courage or presence of mind. As soon as he had gained the edge of the cliff, he knelt down, and with his sword divided the fastenings by which the bridge was attached to the rock.

He expected that an effectual barrier would thus be put to the further progress of our pursuers; but he was mistaken; for he had scarcely accomplished his task, when the tigress, without a moment’s pause, rushed towards the chasm, and attempted to bound over it. It was a fearful sight to see the mighty animal suspended for a moment in the air, above the abyss; but the scene passed like a flash of lightning. Her strength was not equal to the distance; she fell into the gulf, and, before she reached the bottom, was torn into a thousand pieces by the jagged points of the rocks.

Her fate did not in the least dismay her companion; he followed her with an immense spring, and reached the opposite side, but only with his fore claws; and thus he clung to the edge of the precipice, endeavoring to gain a footing. The Indians again uttered a wild shriek, as if all hope had been lost.

But Wharton, who was nearest the edge of the rock, advanced courageously towards the tiger, and struck his sword into the animal’s breast. Enraged beyond all measure, the wild beast collected all his strength, and, with a violent effort, fixing one of his hind legs upon the cliff, he seized Wharton by the thigh. That heroic man still preserved his fortitude; he grasped the trunk of a tree with his left hand, to steady and support himself, while with his right hand he wrenched and violently turned the sword, that was still in the breast of the tiger. All this was the work of an instant. The Indians, Frank, and myself hastened to his assistance; but Lincoln, who was already at his side, had seized Wharton’s gun, which lay near upon the ground, and struck so powerful a blow with the butt-end upon the head of the tiger, that the animal, stunned and overpowered, let go his hold and fell back into the abyss.--_Edinburgh Literary Journal._

The Ingenious Cricket.

In the mountains of Malacca there is a species of cricket, which makes a loud noise with its wings at certain seasons, probably to attract its mate. Not content with the simple sound which it can produce by a natural action, it is said to resort to an exceedingly curious acoustic contrivance to increase it. In the sides of a hole which it forms in the earth, large enough to contain its body, it hollows out seven small tunnels, which, diverging from that common centre, and penetrating towards the surface of the ground, at length open above in a circle of a palm’s breadth in diameter. These cylindrical apertures, being made quite smooth within, expand towards the top, where each may be half an inch wide, like so many minute speaking-trumpets. The insect then taking its stand in the central cavity which communicates with these, and there exercising its fairy minstrelsy, the sound passes through each tube; and, whatever be the use of this peculiar structure, the tiny musician within makes hill-side and thicket ring with the chirping din which he emits from it.--_Bennet and Tyerman._

The Power of Bees.

The following incident is related in an English paper. One day, a horse belonging to a farmer strayed from his yard into an adjoining garden belonging to a Mrs. Cox, and kicked down a hive of bees, which instantly attacked him with great fierceness. The poor horse kicked and plunged violently, and a man named Blunt, who happened to be in Mrs. Cox’s house, went out to his rescue. He succeeded in getting hold of the horse, but had scarcely done so, when the bees attacked him, covering his head and face, and every exposed part of his body. It was in vain he strove to beat them off. Wet cloths were thrown over him, and other means were resorted to, but it was a long time before the enemy left him. The unfortunate man was conveyed to his house, but died on his way thither, within ten minutes of the attack. The horse died the next evening. The deceased left several children to lament his untimely end.

HYMN.

I know, when I lie down to sleep,
That God is near my bed;
That angels watch by his command
Around my infant head.

I know, when I kneel down to pray,
That still my God is there;
He hears my words, he sees my thoughts,
And will accept my prayer.

I know when I go forth to play,
That God is by my side;
Through every hour, at every step,
He is my guard and guide.

I know his eye sees everything
In earth, and sea and air;
That he, in darkness as in light,
Can see me everywhere.

Then let me guard each thought, each word,
Lest he should chance to find
Evil within a heart that should
Be gentle, meek, and kind.

Our Correspondence.

We have this month to acknowledge the receipt of letters from M. G. D.; J. B., of Princeton; S----, of Cambridge; and W. H. S., of Portsmouth. The following, from the latter place, we insert with pleasure.

_Portsmouth, Sept. 3, 1844._

MR. MERRY:

DEAR SIR,--I have begun to take your books, and have just
received the back numbers, and thus far I feel a great
interest in them; and, as you have had but a few _puzzles_
in the late numbers, you would oblige me very much if you
would publish the following enigma. We are good hands down
here for _puzzles_, and would like to get hold of one that
would _stick_ us. If you can find one of this kind, we wish
you to publish it. I send you the following

PUZZLE.

I am composed of twenty letters.
My 12, 16 and 19, is part of the body.
My 15, 4, 20, 9, 3 and 17, is in every house.
My 10, 9, 6, 10, 8 and 18, has no particular home.
My 5, 4, 16 and 7, is part of a factory.
My 3, 15, 13 and 4, is a return.
My 5, 16, 11, 6, 4 and 18, is a city in Europe.
My 17, 8, 15, 4, 16 and 11, is an animal.
My 7, 8, 20, 15 and 13, comes every spring.
My 2, 8, 10 and is numbered.
My 1, 14, 8 and 17, is to take a part.
My whole is a part of the contents of Merry’s Museum.

H. R. B.

* * * * *

The following letter will probably elicit the thanks of our readers, as it does ours. We shall certainly comply with the request, in our next number.

_Natick, September 25th._

MR. MERRY:

There is a great deal said about Texas in the newspapers,
and both whigs and democrats are making a great many
speeches about it. I should like, myself, to know more
about it than I do; what sort of a country it is--how
large--how many people there are--how they live--what the
climate and productions are. If you could give us a short
account of these things, I think it would be acceptable to
your readers.

Yours, N. C.

November in London.

No sun--no moon!
No morn--no noon--
No dawn--no dusk--no proper time of day--
No sky--no earthly view--
No distance looking blue--
No road--no street--no t’other side the way--
No end to any row--
No indications where the crescents go--
No top to any steeple--
No recognitions of familiar people--
No courtesies for showing ’em--
No knowing ’em!
No travelling at all--no locomotion--
No inkling of the way--no motion--
“No go,” by land or ocean--
No mail--no post--
No news from any foreign coast--
No park--no ring--no afternoon gentility--
No company--no nobility--
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease--
No comfortable feel in any member--
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds--November!

The Moon.

MUSIC COMPOSED FOR MERRY’S MUSEUM, BY GEORGE J. WEBB.

Who am I that shine so bright,
With my pretty yellow light,
Peeping through your curtains grey?
Tell me, little child, I pray.

When the sun is gone I rise
In the very silent skies;
And a cloud or two doth skim
Round about my silver rim.

All the little stars do seem
Hidden by my brighter beam,
And among them I do ride,
Like a queen in all her pride.

Little child, consider well
Who this simple tale doth tell;
And I think you’ll guess it soon,
For I only am the Moon.

MERRY’S MUSEUM.

Vol. VIII. NOVEMBER, 1844. No. 5.

The trees to the blast have surrendered their leaves,
The beauties of summer have fled;
The warblers departed for sunnier climes,
The herbage is withered and dead.

The chill wintry blast shall resound through the woods,
The skies with rude storms shall be rife;
But spring will return and again clothe the trees,
The landscape will glow with new life.

According to a French novelist, November is the gloomy month, in which “the people of England hang and drown themselves.” There is something rather sober in the departure of all those interesting charms that have so attached us to summer and the early autumn, yet we can hardly say that there is anything _gloomy_ about it. A pensive, yet pleasing melancholy, is perhaps the predominant feeling in contemplating the changes that take place as the autumn sullenly resigns the year to winter. We have seen the fields stripped of their crops, and the woods of their luxuriant foliage; and now that the great purposes of the season are accomplished, it is not with repining or regret, that we see exhausted nature about to take a short repose.

We have been delighted with the music of the fields and groves, we have admired the springing plants and expanding flowers; now our enjoyments are about to be somewhat of a different kind, though they may still be closely connected with the mysterious operations of slumbering nature; we may still study her work with scarce less interest than when her utmost energies are put forth to the work of spring and summer seasons. Let the Englishman hang or drown, if his fancy inclines that way; for myself, there is much in the gloom of winter which I could yet wish to enjoy for years to come. There are the hard frosts, which show an autumn morning with every twig and every blade of grass, every vegetable fibre, houses, rocks, and fences, coated with a thick covering of alabaster, like ice, converting shrubs and thick-clustering weeds into most gorgeous chandeliers; there are the winter sunshine and storms, and the winter-evening fireside. There is the promise and hope of the future year; and above all, there is the contemplation of the power and goodness of Him who has furnished the earth in all the beauty and riches of the seasons, for the comfort and happiness of his creatures.

The sun, who seems to have the immediate control of these matters, has for a few weeks been getting rapidly to the south, and the summer and autumn follow him. His declination, by the middle of the month, is the same, and the days are as short, as at the latter part of January: but how different the two seasons. Now, we generally have our Indian summer, and then, perhaps, is the coldest part of winter. When the earth has become so thoroughly heated by the longer days and more perpendicular sun of summer, it requires some time, after the sun has attained its greatest southern declination, for it to cool again to the lowest temperature of winter.

We are no great admirers of the mere poetry and sentimentality of life, but, seeing it is November, suppose we indulge a little in the pensive mood. Let us take one of those pure transparent days which are only to be found at this season, and go to the southern declivity of some gentle swell where we may have the woods in our rear. Now look abroad to the south where the retiring summer seems yet to linger, and the autumn lies slumbering over the landscape. Here is no bold and abrupt coloring, no contrast of dark woods with yellow fields; the different features and tints seem blended into one grand mass, forming an extended and unbroken scene of quiet, calm serenity and loveliness. Over head is that deep transparent blue which belongs only to an autumn sky, with here and there a straggling white-edged cloud, which sometimes passing before the sun, we see the shadow as it travels over the plain, darkening successively for a moment the hills and fields until lost in the distance, and giving a transient life and motion to the sleeping scene before us. Now and then a single bird is to be seen, who, as if loth to leave the happy scenes of his summer joys, still lingers behind, long after his companions have departed for southern climes. Occasionally we are startled by the squirrel, who, with a cheek load of hickory nuts, rustles the leaves as he scampers to his hiding place, to finish stocking his cellars with provisions for the winter. For half an hour, not a breath of air is felt, or a sound heard; till presently, the wind, scarcely heard at first, begins to murmur among the trees in the distance; approaching, it increases to a mournful howl, bringing with it a cloud of leaves, which, whirled in eddies across the sky above us, afford us a lecture “more eloquent than words,” on the end there _must_ be to all of the beautiful and fascinating, to which we have set our hearts and engaged our affections here. Now the wind dies away again in moaning sighs, the leaves settle away in the distance, and presently all is again quiet, lonely and silent.

At such times, we feel little inclined to conversation; deeply absorbed in the contemplation of the scene before us, about us, and above us, we find occasion for few words; conscious that each sees and deeply feels the whole, the year going reluctantly on to its grave, we find all comment unnecessary, and words superfluous; we want no communion with anything save our own silent thoughts.

I know not how it is with others, but I have sometimes felt _English_ enough to think, were it proper to choose, that when I am called upon to leave all the beautiful and interesting things that have so long bound me to earth, I could choose this season, and leave them with less regret amid such a scene, when all around is gone to decay, and the earth itself seems to covet the repose of death.

* * * * *

_Say well_ is good, but _do well_ is better.

* * * * *

EXPERIENCE A TEACHER TO BIRDS.--There is much more intellect in birds than people suppose. A curious instance of this once occurred at a slate quarry. A thrush, not aware of the expansive properties of gunpowder, thought proper to build her nest on the ridge of the quarry in the very centre of which they were constantly blasting the rock. At first, she was very much discomposed by the flying of stones in all directions, but still she would not leave her nest. She soon observed that a bell rang whenever a train was about to be fired, and that, at the notice, the workmen retired to safe positions. In a few days, when she heard the bell, she quitted her exposed situation, and flew down to where the workmen sheltered themselves, dropping close to their feet. There she would remain till the explosion had taken place and then return to her nest.

* * * * *

LITIGATION.--Law is like a country dance; people are led up and down till they are fairly tired out. It is like a book of surgery; there are a great many terrible cases in it. It is like physic too; they that take the least of it are best off. Law is like a new fashion; people are bewitched to get into it; and like bad weather, most people are glad to get out of it.

* * * * *

SCOTT.--It is related of Sir Walter Scott that when in health he never refused to see any one, however humble, who called upon him; and that he scarcely ever received a letter which he did not answer by his own hand.

Bill and the Boys.

_The story of Dirk Heldriver, concluded._

M. Hielder having attained the summit of the pyramidal crag, to which he had been invited, now looked around for Hieldover. He saw a fire which had guided him to the spot, made of fagots burning upon the rocks, and at a little distance, he discovered the mouth of a cave. From this, Hieldover soon issued, and presented himself before his visiter. The strong light of the blazing brands, reflected upon the faces and forms of the two men, presented a striking picture. The emaciated form, the haggard features and the torn garments of Hielder, were strongly contrasted with the iron frame, the stern, flinty countenance, and homely sailor’s dress of Hieldover.

The two men met, but no kindly greeting passed between them. They gazed at each other for a moment, and Hieldover then broke the silence. “You have come,” said he, “at my bidding, and I will fulfil my promise. You shall see your daughter--but you must first listen to my story.” Saying this, he pointed to a seat on the rock, and M. Hielder sat down. Hieldover did the same, and then he spoke as follows.

“It is now twelve years since we parted at Amsterdam. I need not go over the story of my father’s death--of his intrusting my fortune and education to your care. I need not say how you discharged your trust, by bringing me up in every species of folly and dissipation; of your embezzlement of my property, and final retreat from the country to parts unknown. The latter event, as you well know, occurred in my absence from Amsterdam. When I returned to the city I found myself a beggar, and what was worse, my character was ruined. You had enjoyed a high reputation for integrity, and had taken advantage of this to denounce me as a graceless wretch, unworthy of protection or sympathy. You had also circulated the story that the vast estate bequeathed by my father had been squandered by my profligacy.

“I was just twenty-one when I returned to Amsterdam, intending to take possession of my estate, but instead of this, I found myself at once ruined in fortune and fame. It is impossible for me to describe the miseries that one after another overwhelmed me. I applied to friends; but they received me with coldness or aversion. I resorted to my companions, upon whom I had lavished favors; but they smiled and put their fingers sneeringly to the side of the nose. I applied to a lawyer; but he would not undertake my cause without a fee, and this I could not give. At length, I bent all the energies of my soul to one single purpose, and that was to pursue you, to traverse the four quarters of the globe, if necessary, to find you, and at last to inflict upon you some punishment adequate to your ingratitude and your crimes.

“Entering upon this design with a fierce and feverish desire, I shipped on board a vessel as a common sailor. I had reason to suppose that you had gone to Surinam, and the vessel I entered was bound to that port. I performed the duties of a sailor with alacrity. In the long and tedious calm, or the raging of the tempest, whether upon the quiet deck or aloft amid the shivering spars, I never for one moment forgot my purpose. I arrived at the destined port, and made inquiries for you, but without success. I engaged in the revels of my companions; but in my maddest moments I thought of you. I shipped for Java, for I had been led to conjecture that you might be there. We performed our long voyage of alternate tempest and tranquillity. To all around me I seemed the most thoughtless of the unthinking men with whom I was associated; yet it was the burning hope of revenge that sustained me.

“You were not at Java. I set out for the Japan Isles, and reached the rock of Nangasaki, to which the Dutch traders are confined. You had been here, but had departed, leaving no clew by which you could be traced. In a daring and reckless mood, I ventured with one of my companions to enter into one of the Japanese towns. We had dressed ourselves like the natives, and for a time were unsuspected. But at last we were seized, severely beaten, put into an open boat and driven out to sea. We were forced along the coast by winds and currents, and at last, were wrecked upon a rocky shore. In a starving condition we clambered up the cliffs, and made our way to a small village. Here we were seized and conducted from post to post, till we reached Meaco, the residence of the _dairi_ or king. Having been examined, we were sentenced to perpetual slavery in the diamond mines. These belonged to the king, and were situated in the mountains. For three years I wrought in gloomy caverns, without once seeing the light of day. Even here I did not forget my revenge, and had still in my bosom a conviction that I should break the chains with which my body was bound, escape from my rocky prison, and fulfil my purpose. My companion wasted away under his toil and confinement, and expired before my eyes; but my body and soul fed upon the hope which had so long animated my bosom.

“I began to meditate an escape. I laid my plans with deliberation, and at the end of eleven months, they were completed. I effected my deliverance, and lived for two years with the wild goats amid the recesses of the mountains. I had learned the language and manners of the country, and leaving my retreat, made my way without difficulty; all suspicion having been lulled by the time which had elapsed since my escape. I had concealed a number of diamonds and other gems of great value, and carried them with me. I was now rich, but I regarded my wealth only as the means by which I might traverse the world in pursuit of you.

“I reached Nangasaki, and entered a vessel bound for Amsterdam. I returned to my native city, and for a time engaged in the pleasures of fashionable life. I was courted and flattered on every side; but I became weary of blandishments, and the thirst of revenge, which had been forgotten, again revived in my bosom. I came to New York, and spent a year in search of you. At last, I discovered your place of residence, and learned that you had exchanged the name of Brocken for Hielder. I learned that you were married--that you lived aloof from mankind, and that you were regarded as a strange and mysterious being. I visited your abode by night--I hung around your path--I frequently saw you, and was more than once on the point of thrusting my poniard into your bosom.

“It is strange, that, when you were in my power, my hand seemed withheld from striking the blow I had so long meditated. I hesitated--I wavered. At last my desire of revenge returned in its full vigor--I went, determined to fulfil my long meditated design. Concealed in the shrubbery, I saw you approach. I drew my dirk, and stood ready. You came near, but your lovely child was by your side. You paused--you sat down--you embraced that flaxen-haired girl, and gazed in her sunny face with the fond affection of a parent. I had only thought of you before as a demon; but I now saw that you were a father, and possessed a father’s feeling. It was a strange revelation, and it opened a new view to my mind. I cast my poniard away with loathing, and another train of thoughts took possession of my soul.

“I lay in wait, and seizing a favorable opportunity, I carried your daughter away. She is here, and she is well. I have brought you hither; I have told you my story--I have fulfilled my purpose. I have no other revenge to bestow. Keep your ill-gotten wealth--for I know it cannot bless you. I only hope that your innocent child may not share in the misery which your crimes have inflicted upon me, and must continue to inflict upon yourself. I see a fate worse than that of Cain, written on your brow. There is a fire within your breast that consumes you. One solace only is afforded you--your daughter; and even that is mingled with a fear that is of itself torture. How mysterious are the ways of Providence! When there is no other tribunal to inflict punishment, the soul turns upon itself, and becomes an executioner. Dark and desolate as is my lot, I envy not yours.”

Hieldover waited for no reply, but immediately brought out Katrina and placed her in her father’s arms. After a short space, he led them down the cliff, and conducted them to one of the avenues of the mountain. He then spoke to Hielder as follows:

“Farewell--we part forever. You need not fear me--nay, forget me if you can. I forgive the injuries you have done me--the wreck of my existence which you have caused. I am unfit for the world, and I shall continue to occupy this abode. I have lived a life of evil thoughts and wicked passions. I will expiate my crimes by a life of penance in yonder cave. Beware of seeking me--of naming me to others. I seek only oblivion and repose. Adieu.”

The strange man departed, and Hielder saw him no more. Years passed away, and a light was often seen on the mountains. Rumors were afloat that the giant form of a man was sometimes seen upon the cliffs, or gliding through the valley beneath. The light was at last extinguished, and the legend became current that the bones of a man were many years after found in the cave, and by their side a small sack of precious gems. The glen had long the reputation of being haunted, and was anciently known by the name of Heldriver’s castle.

New Zealand.

New Zealand consists of two islands, but separated only by a strait, and composing properly only one country, lying between 34° and 48°S lat.; being thus about 1000 miles in length; but the average breadth does not exceed 100 miles. The surface is estimated at 62,160 English square miles. The northern island is known by the name, not very well fitted for English organs, of Eaheinomauwe; the southern by that of T’avai Poenammoo. The first is the smallest, but is distinguished by the finest soil, and by natural features of the boldest and grandest description. Chains of high mountains run through both islands, which, in the former, rise to the height of 12,000 or 14,000 feet, and are buried for two thirds of their height in perpetual snow; presenting on the greatest scale all the Alpine phenomena. From these heights numerous streams flow down, watering in their course the most fertile and enchanting valleys. The huge glaciers and plains of snow which cover their higher regions; the mighty torrents which pour down from them, forming stupendous cataracts; the lofty woods which crown their middle regions; the hills which wind along their feet, decked with the brightest vegetation; the bold cliffs and promontories which breast the might of the southern waves; the beautiful bays decked with numberless villages and canoes--all conspire to present a scene, which even the rude eye of the navigator cannot behold without rapture. The soil in the valleys, and in the tracts of land at all level, is more fertile than in New Holland, and, with due cultivation, would yield grain in abundance. It produces, even spontaneously and plentifully, roots fitted for human food, particularly those of a species of fern, which covers almost the whole country.

The natives breed pigs, and cultivate some maize, yams and potatoes; and there is a species of very strong flax, which serves not only for clothing, but fishing-lines, and various other purposes. The mountains are clothed with a profusion of fir trees, of a variety of species unknown in other countries, and rising to a magnificent height, which the tallest pines of Norway cannot rival.

The natives are of a different race from those of New Holland, belonging to that Malay race which predominates in the South Sea Islands. They are tall and well formed, with large black eyes; they are intelligent, have made some progress in the arts of life, and are united into a certain form of political society. These circumstances, however, have only tended to develop in a still more frightful degree those furious passions which agitate the breast of the savage. Each little society is actuated by the deepest enmity against all their neighbors; their daily and nightly thought is to surprise, to attack, to exterminate them; and when they have gained that guilty triumph, it is followed by devouring their victims.

Yet to the members of their own tribe, or those whom they regard as friends, they are not only mild and courteous, but display the fondest attachment and most tender sensibility. Families live together in great harmony, and are seen assembled in pleasing and harmonious groups. On the death of their relations, they exhibit the most impassioned and affecting symptoms of grief, cutting their faces with pieces of shell or bone, till the blood flows and mixes with their tears.

They have a great turn for oratory, the chiefs making speeches of two or three hours, accompanied with vehement gestures, to which those of the audience correspond. Their war-canoes are very large, adorned with much curious and elaborate carving. Great diligence is also exercised, and great pain endured, in bestowing upon their skins the ornament of tattooing; and the visages of the chiefs are often entirely covered over with various regular figures. This, however, is not effected without severe pain, causing even attacks of fever; but to shrink in any degree from the operation is considered as altogether derogatory to a manly spirit. They have also a horrid art, by which the heads of their enemies, being dried in an oven, and exposed to a stream of fresh air, are maintained in a state of perfect preservation. Their houses are by no means spacious; that of Korra-korra, a powerful chief, measured only nine feet long, six feet wide, and four feet high. They are placed in hippahs, or fortified villages, seated on high and steep hills, ascended by pathways, narrow, winding, and often perpendicular, so as to be most perilous to an European; but the New Zealander leaps up as if it were level ground.

Their original arms consisted of clubs of stone and whalebone, of long and pointed spears, and of the pattoo-pattoo, or wooden battle-axe; but since the musket has been introduced to their knowledge, it has absorbed all their warlike regard; and the strength of a chief is counted, not by his men, but by his muskets. The report of fifty being in the possession of Korra-korra spread the terror of his name for 200 miles round.

Dick Boldhero.