heat of the place. "My dear," her friend replied, "it must be the effect of your bustle. What do you stuff it with ?" "Hair-horse-hair," was the reply. "Hair!-mercy on us!" says her friend, "it is no wonder you are oppressed-that's a hot-and-hot material truly. Why, you should do as I doyou do not see me fainting; and the reason is, that I stuff my bustle with hay-new hay!"

66

telling me of the death of some father, sister, or other relative, I to their astonishment would take to laughing, and if there was a horse near us, give the lady a drag away to another situation. And if then I were asked the meaning of this ill-timed mirth, and this singular movement, what could I say? Why, sometimes I made the matter worse by replying, Dear madam, it is only to save your bustle from the horse!" I heard no more, for the ladies, supposing from my eyes that Stung at length by my misfortunes and the hopelessness of I was a listener, changed the topic of conversation, though my situation, I became utterly reckless, and only thought of indeed it was not necessary, for at the time I had not the carrying out my revenge on the bustles in every way in my slightest notion of what they meant. Time, however, passed power; and this I must say with some pride I did for a while on most favourably to my wishes-another month, and I should with good effect. I got a number of the hated articles manuhave called my Catherine my own. She was on a visit to my factured for myself, but not, reader, to wear, as you shall sister, and I had every opportunity to make myself agreeable. | hear. Oh! no; but whenever I received an invitation to a We sang together, we talked together, and we danced toge- party-which indeed had latterly been seldom sent me-I ther. All this would have been very well, but unfortunately took one of these articles in my pocket, and, watching a fawe also walked together. It was on the last time we ever did vourable opportunity when all were engaged in the mazy so that the circumstance occurred which I have now to re- figure of the dance, let it secretly fall amongst them. The. late, and which gave the first death-blow to my hopes of hap-result may be imagined-ay, reader, imagine it, for I cannot piness. We were crossing Carlisle-bridge, her dear arm linked describe it with effect. First, the half-suppressed but siin mine, when we chanced to meet a female friend; and wish-multaneous scream of all the ladies as it was held up for a ing to have a little chat with her without incommoding the claimant; next, the equally simultaneous movement of the passengers, we got to the edge of the flag-way, near which at ladies' hands, all quickly disengaged from those of their part-... the time there was standing an old white horse, totally blind. ners, and not raised up in wonder, but carried down to their He was a quiet-looking animal, and none of us could have sup- bustles! Never was movement in the dance executed with posed from his physiognomy that he had any savage propen- such precision; and I should be immortalised as the inventor sity in his nature. But imagine my astonishment and horror of an attitude so expressive of sentiment and of feeling. when I suddenly heard my charmer give a scream that pierced Alas! this is the only consolation now afforded me in my me to the very heart!-and when I perceived that this atro- afflictions: I invented a new attitude-a new movement in the cious old blind brute, having slowly and slyly swayed his head quadrille : let others see that it be not forgotten. I am now round, caught the how shall I describe it?-caught my Ca- a banished man from all refined society: no lady will appear, therine-really I can't say how-but he caught her; and be- where that odious Mr Bustle, as they call me, might possibly. fore I could extricate her from his jaws, he made a reef in be; and so no one will admit me inside their doors. I have her garments such as lady never suffered. Silk gown, petti- nothing left me, therefore, but to live out my solitary life,. coat, bustle-everything, in fact, gave way, and left an open- and vent my execration of bustles in the only place now left ing a chasm an exposure, that may perhaps be imagined, me—the columns of the Irish Penny Journal. but cannot be described.*

As rapidly as I could, of course, I got my fair one into a jarvy, and hurried home, the truth gradually opening in my mind as to the cause of the disaster it was, that the blind horse, hungry brute, had been attracted by the smell of my Catherine's bustle, made of hay-new hay!

Catherine was never the same to me afterwards-she took the most invincible dislike to walk with me, or rather, perhaps, to be seen in the streets with me. But matters were not yet come to the worst, and I had indulged in hopes that she would yet be mine. I had however taken a deep aversion to bustles, and even determined to wage war upon them to the best of my ability. In this spirit, a few days after, I determined to wreak my vengeance on my sister's bustle, for I found by this time that she too was emulous of being a Hottentot beauty. Accordingly, having to accompany her and my intended wife to a ball, I stole into my sister's room in the course of the evening before she went into it to dress, and pouncing upon her hated bustle, which lay on her toilet table, I inflicted a cut on it with my penknife, and retired. But what a mistake did I make! Alas, it was not my sister's bustle, but my Catherine's! However, we went to the ball, and for a time all went smoothly on. I took out my Catherine as a partner in the dance; but imagine my horror when I perceived her gradually becoming thinner and thinner-losing her enbonpoint as she danced; and, worse than that, that every movement which she described in the figure-the ladies' chain, the chassee-was accurately marked-recorded on the chalked floor with-bran! Oh dear! reader, pity me: was ever man so unfortunate? This sealed my doom. She would never speak to me, or even look at me afterwards.

But this was not all. My character with the sex-ay, with both sexes was also destroyed. I who had been heretofore, as I said, considered as an example of prudence and discretion for a young man, was now set down as a thoughtless, devil-may-care wag, never to do well: the men treated me coldly, and the women turned their backs upon me; and so thus in reality they made me what they had supposed I was. It was indeed no wonder, for I could never after see a lady with a bustle but I felt an irresistible inclination to laughter, and this too even on occasions when I should have kept a grave countenance. If I met a couple of country or other friends in the street, and inquired after their family-the cause, perhaps, of the mourning in which they were attired while they were

• A fact..

THE COMMON OTTER.

THE otter varies in size, some adult specimens measuring no. more than thirty-six inches in length, tail inclusive, while others, again, are to be found from four and a half to five feet long. The head of the otter is broad and flat; its muzzle is broad, rounded, and blunt; its eyes small and of a semicircular form; neck extremely thick, nearly as thick as the body; body long, rounded, and very flexible; legs short and muscular; feet furnished with five sharp-clawed toes, webbed to three-quarters of their extent; tail long, muscular, some what flattened, and tapering to its extremity. The colour of the otter is a deep blackish brown; the sides of the head, the front of the neck, and sometimes the breast, brownish grey. The belly is usually, but not invariably, darker than the back; the fur is short, and of two kinds; the inferior or woolly coat is exceedingly fine and close; the longer hairs are soft and glossy, those on the tail rather stiff and bristly. On either side of the nose, and just below the chin, are two small lightcoloured spots. So much for the appearance of the otter: now we come to its dwelling. The otter is common to England, Ireland, and Scotland; a marine variety is also to be met with, differing from the common only in its superior size and more furry coat. Some naturalists have set them down as a different species: I am, however, disposed to regard them as a variety merely.

The native haunt of the otter is the river-bank, where amongst the reeds and sedge it forms a deep burrow, in which it brings forth and rears its young. Its principal food is fish, which it catches with singular dexterity. It lives almost wholly in the water, and seldom leaves it except to devour its prey; on land it does not usually remain long at any one time, and the slightest alarm is sufficient to cause it to plunge into the stream. Yet, natural as seems a watery residence to this creature, its hole is perfectly dry; were it to become otherwise, it would be quickly abandoned. Its entrance, indeed, is invariably under water, but its course then points upwards into the bank, towards the surface of the earth, and it is even provided with several lodges or apartments at different heights, into which it may retire in case of floods, throwing up the earth behind it as it proceeds into the re

142

cesses of its retreat; and when it has reached the last and most secure chamber, it opens a small hole in the roof for the admission of atmospheric air, without which the animal could not of course exist many minutes; and should the flood rise so high as to burst into this last place of refuge, the animal will open a passage through the roof, and venture forth upon land, rather than remain in a damp and muddy bed. During severe floods, otters are not unfrequently surprised at some distance from the water, and taken.

In a wild state the otter is fierce and daring, will make a determined resistance when attacked by dogs, and being endued with no inconsiderable strength of jaw, it often punishes its assailants terribly. I have myself seen it break the foreleg of a stout terrier. Otter-hunting was in former times a favourite amusement even with the nobility, and regular establishments of otter-hounds were kept. The animal is now become scarce, and its pursuit is no longer numbered in our list of sports, unless perhaps in Scotland, where, especially in the Western Islands, otter-hunting is still extensively practised. Otters are easily rendered tame, especially if taken young, and may be taught to follow their master like dogs, and even to fish for him, cheerfully resigning their prey when taken, A man named and dashing into the water in search of more. James Campbell, residing near Inverness, had one which followed him wherever he went, unless confined, and would anWhen apprehensive of danger from dogs, swer to its name. it sought the protection of its master, and would endeavour to spring into his arms for greater security. It was frequently employed in catching fish, and would sometimes take eight or ten salmon in a day. If not prevented, it always attempted to break the fish behind the fin which is next the tail; and as soon as one was taken away, it always dived in pursuit of more. It was equally dexterous at sea-fishing, and When tired took great numbers of young cod and other fish. it would refuse to fish any longer, and was then rewarded Having satiated its with as much food as it could devour. appetite, it always coiled itself up and went to sleep, no matter where it was, in which state it was usually carried home. Brown relates that a person who kept a tame otter taught it to associate with his dogs, who were on the most friendly terms with it on all occasions, and that it would follow its master in company with its canine friends. This person was in the habit of fishing the river with nets, on which occasions the otter proved highly useful to him, by going into the water and driving trout and other fish towards the net. very remarkable that dogs accustomed to otter-hunting were so far from offering it the least molestation, that they would not even hunt any other otter while it remained with them; on which account its owner was forced to part with it.

It was

of Vaniere, allusion is made to tame otters employed in fish-
"Should chance within this dark recess betray
ing:-
The tender young, bear quick the prize away;
Tamed by thy care the useful brood shall join
The watery chase, and add their toils to thine;
From each close lurking hole shall force away,
And drive within the nets the silver prey;
As the taught hound the nimble stag subdues,
And o'er the dewy plain the panting hare pursues."
Mr Macgillivray, in his interesting volume on British Qua-
drupeds in the Naturalist's Library, mentions several instances
of otters having been tamed and employed in fishing. Among
others he relates that a gentleman residing in the Outer He-
brides had one that supplied itself with food, and regularly
returned to the house. M'Diarmid, in his "Sketches from
Nature," enumerates many others. One otter belonging to a
poor widow, "when led forth plunged into the Urr, and
brought out all the fish it could find." Another, kept at Cors-
bie House, Wigtonshire, "evinced a great fondness for goose-
berries," fondled "about her keeper's feet like a pup or kit-
A third, belonging to
ten, and even seemed inclined to salute her cheek, when per-
mitted to carry her freedoms so far."
Mr Montieth of Carstairs, "though he frequently stole away
at night to fish by the pale light of the moon, and associate
with his kindred by the river side, his master of course was
too generous to find any fault with his peculiar mode of spend-
ing his evening hours. In the morning he was always at his
post in the kennel, and no animal understood better the secret
of keeping his own side of the house.' Indeed his pugnacity
in this respect gave him a great lift in the favour of the game-
keeper, who talked of his feats wherever he went, and averred
besides, that if the best cur that ever ran only daured to girn'
at his protegé, he would soon mak his teeth meet through
him.' To mankind, however, he was much more civil, and
allowed himself to be gently lifted by the tail, though he ob-
jected to any interference with his snout, which is probably
with him the seat of honour."

Mr Glennon, of Suffolk-street, Dublin, informs me that Mr Murray, gamekeeper to his Grace the Duke of Leinster, has a tame otter, which enters the water to fish when desired, and lays whatever he catches with due submission at his master's feet. Mr Glennon further observes, that the affection for his owner which this animal exhibits is equal or even superior to that of the most faithful dog. The creature follows him wherever he goes, will suffer him to lift him up by the tail and carry him under his arm just as good-humouredly as would a dog, will spring to his knee when he sits at home, and seems in fact never happy but when in his company. This otter is well able to take care of himself, and fearlessly repels the imperti. nent advances of the dogs: with such, however, as treat him with fitting respect, he is on excellent terms. Murray will hide himself from this animal, which will immediately, on being set at liberty, search for him with the greatest anxiety, running like a terrier dog by the scent. Mr Glennon assures me that he has frequently seen the animal thus trace the footsteps of its master for a considerable distance across several fields, and that too with such precision as never in any instance to fail of finding him.

Sometimes Mr

The otter is of a most affectionate disposition, as may at once be seen from its anxiety respecting its young. Indeed, the parental affection of this creature is so powerful that the female otter will often suffer herself to be killed rather than Professor Steller says, "Often have I spared desert them. the lives of the female otters whose young ones I took away. They expressed their sorrow by crying like human beings, and following me as I was carrying off their young, while they called to them for aid with a tone of voice which very much resembled the crying of children. When I sat down in the snow, they came quite close to me, and attempted to carry off their young. On one occasion when I had deprived an otter of her progeny, I returned to the place eight days after, and found the female sitting by the river listless and desponding, who suffered me to kill her on the spot without making any On skinning her I found she was quite attempt to escape. wasted away from sorrow for the loss of her young." This affection which the otter, while in a state of nature, displays towards her young, is when in captivity usually transferred to her master, or perhaps, as in an instance I shall mention by and bye, to some one or other of his domestic animals. As an example of the former case I may mention the following :A person named Collins, who lived near Wooler in Northum-striking contrast to the accounts I had read and heard of other berland, had a tame otter, which followed him wherever he went. He frequently took it to the river to fish for its own food, and when satisfied it never failed to return to its master. One day in the absence of Collins, the otter being taken out to fish by his son, instead of returning as usual, refused to answer to the accustomed call, and was lost. Collins tried every means to recover it; and after several days' search, being near the place where his son had lost it, and calling its name, to his very great joy the animal came crawling to his feet. In the following passage of the "Prædium Rusticum"

I myself had once a tame otter, with a detail of whose habits and manners I shall now conclude this article. When I first obtained the animal she was very young, and not more than sixteen inches in length: young as she was, she was very fierce, and would bite viciously if any one put his hand near the nest of straw in which she was kept. As she grew a little older, however, she became more familiarized to the approaches of human beings, and would suffer herself to be gently stroked upon the back or head; when tired of being caressed, she would growl in a peculiar manner, and presently use her sharp teeth if the warning to let her alone were not attended In one respect the manners of this animal presented a tame individuals. She evinced no particular affection for me; she grew tame certainly, but her tameness was rather of a general than of an exclusive character: unlike other wild animals which I had at different times succeeded in domesticating, this creature testified no particular gratitude to her master, and whoever fed her, or set her at liberty, was her favourite for the time being. She preferred fish to any other diet, and eagerly devoured all descriptions, whether taken in fresh or salt water, though she certainly preferred the former. She would seize the fish between her fore paws, hold it firmly on the

to.

ground, and devour it downwards to the tail, which with the head the dainty animal rejected. When fish could not be procured, she would eat, but sparingly, of bread and milk, as well as the lean of raw meat; fat she could on no account be prevailed upon to touch.

-a practice which I have not as yet seen recorded in the natural history of this animal. I had this otter in my possession nearly two years, and have in the above sketch mentioned only a few of its most striking peculiarities. Did I not fear encroaching on space which is perhaps the property of another contributor, I could have carried its history to a much H. D. R.

RANDOM SKETCHES.-No. II.

Towards other animals my otter for a long period maintained an appearance of perfect indifference. If a dog ap-greater length. proached her suddenly, she would utter a sharp, whistling noise, and betake herself to some place of safety: if pursued, she would turn and show fight. If the dog exhibited no symptoms of hostility, she would presently return to her place at the fireside, where she would lie basking for hours at a time. When I first obtained this animal, there was no water sufficiently near to where I lived in which I could give her an occasional bath; and being apprehensive, that, if entirely deprived of an element in which nature had designed her to pass so considerable a portion of her existence, she would languish and die, I allowed her a tub as a substitute for her native river; and in this she plunged and swam with much apparent delight. It was in this manner that I became acquainted with the curious fact, that the otter, when passing along beneath the surface of the water, does not usually accomplish its object by swimming, but by walking along the bottom, which it can do as securely and with as much rapidity as it can run on dry land.

:

AN AMERICAN NOBLEMAN.

THERE reached our city, on the morning of the 29th day of July, and sailed from it on the night of the 31st, the most remarkable person perhaps by whom our shores have been lately visited. Were we to second our own feelings, we would apply a higher epithet to William Lloyd Garrison, but we have chosen one in which we are persuaded all parties would agree who partook of his intercourse, however much they may differ from each other and from him in principle and in practice. The object of this short paper is to leave on the pages of our literature some record of an extraordinary individual, who is a literary man himself, being the editor and proprietor of a successful newspaper published at Boston in Massachusetts; but his name may be best recommended to our readers in connection with that of the well-known George Thompson, whose eloquence was so powerful an auxiliary to the unnumbered petitions which at length wrung from our legislature the just but expensive emancipation of the West Indian negroes. Community of action and of suffering, as pleaders for the rights of the black and coloured population of the United States, has rendered them bosom friends, and each has a child called after the name of the other. Thompson is now a denizen of the United Kingdom; but while we write, Garrison is crossing the broad Atlantic to encounter new dangers comparatively safe at home, his life is forfeited whenever he ventures to pass the moral line of demarcation which separates the free from the slave states-forfeited so surely as there is a rifle in Kentucky or a bowie knife in Alabama.

After having had my otter about a year, I changed my residence to another quarter of the town, and the stream well known to all who have seen Edinburgh as the "Water of Leith," flowed past the rere of the house. The creature being by this time so tame as to be allowed perfect liberty, I took it down one evening to the river, and permited it to disport itself for the first time since its capture in a deep and open stream. The animal was delighted with the new and refreshing enjoyment, and I found that a daily swim in the river greatly conduced to its health and happiness. I would sometimes walk for nearly a mile along the bank, and the happy and frolicsome creature would accompany me by water, and that too so rapidly that I could not even by very smart walking keep pace with it. On some occasions it caught small fish, such as minnows, eels, and occasionally a trout of inconsiderable We have set Garrison down as 66 Ian American nobleman," size. When it was only a minnow or a small eel which it and the "peerage" in which we look for his titles and digni caught, it would devour it in the water, putting its head for ties is "The Martyr Age of the United States of America," that purpose above the surface: when, however, it had made by Harriet Martineau-a writer to whom none will deny the a trout its prey, it would come to shore, and devour it more possession of discrimination, which is all we contend for. at leisure. I strove very assiduously to train this otter to "William Lloyd Garrison is one of God's nobility—the head fish for me, as I had heard they have sometimes been taught of the moral aristocracy, whose prerogatives we are contemto do; but I never could succeed in this attempt, nor could I plating. It is not only that he is invulnerable to injury that he even prevail upon the animal to give me up at any time the early got the world under his feet in a way which it would have fish which she had taken the moment I approached her to do made Zeno stroke his beard with a complacency to witness; so, as if suspecting ny intention, she would at once take to but that in his meekness, his sympathies, his self-forgetfulthe water, and, crossing to the other side of the stream, devourness, he appears covered all over with the stars and orders' her prey in security. This difficulty in training I impute to of the spiritual realm whence he derives his dignities and his the animal's want of an individual affection for me, for it was powers. At present he is a marked man wherever he turns. not affection, but her own pleasure, which induced her to fol- The faces of his friends brighten when his step is heard: the low me down the stream; and she would with equal willing- people of colour almost kneel to him; and the rest of society ness follow any other person who happened to release her jeers, pelts, and execrates him. Amidst all this, his gladsome from her box. This absence of affection was probably nothing life rolls on, too busy to be anxious, and too loving to be more than peculiarity of disposition in this individual, there sad.' He springs from his bed singing at sunrise and if being numerous instances of a contrary nature upon record. during the day tears should cloud his serenity, they are never Although this, otter failed to exhibit those affectionate shed for himself. His countenance of steady compassion gives traits of character which have displayed themselves in other hope to the oppressed, who look to him as the Jews looked individuals of her tribe towards the human species, she was to Moses. It was this serene countenance, saint-like in its by no means of a cold or unsocial disposition towards some of earnestness and purity, that a man bought at a print-shop, my smaller domestic animals. With an Angora cat she soon where it was exposed without a name, and hung up as the after I got her formed a very close friendship, and when in most apostolic face he ever saw. It does not alter the case the house was unhappy when not in the company of her friend. that the man took it out of the frame, and hid it when he I had one day an opportunity of witnessing a singular display found that it was Garrison who had been adorning his of attachment on the part of this otter towards the cat:-A parlour." And he can be no common man of whom it is little terrier dog attacked the latter as she lay by the fire, and recorded in the work to which we have already alluded, that, driving her t'hence, pursued her under the table, where she on starting a newspaper for the advocacy of abolition princistood on her defence, spitting and setting up her back in ples, "Garrison and his friend Knapp, a printer, were ere defiance at this instant the otter entered the apartment, and long living in a garret, on bread and water, expending all no sooner did she perceive what was going on, than she flew their spare earnings and time on the publication, and that with much fury and bitterness upon the dog, seized him by the when it sold particularly well (says Knapp), we treated face with her teeth, and would doubtless have inflicted a severe ourselves with a bowl of milk."-The Martyr Age of the chastisement upon him, had I not hastened to the rescue, and, United States of America, p. 5. separating the combatants, expelled the terrier from the room. When permitted to wander in the garden, this otter would search for grubs, worms, and snails, which she would eat with much apparent relish, detaching the latter from their shell with surprising quickness and dexterity. She would likewise mount uljon the chairs at the window, and catch and eat flies

As we are not writing his memoir, we refer such of our readers as may be curious to inquire further into the subject to the pamphlet just cited, and to the chapter headed Garrison," in the work on America by the same writer. To one extraordinary feature of his character, however, we cannot forbear adverting. He belongs to a society instituted for the

144

apparently negative purpose of non-resistance, and is therefore the safest of all antagonists. Buffet as you list the head and sides of W. L. Garrison, and you receive no buffet in return. That this is owing to no deficiency of personal courage, admits of demonstration. Neither the prison into which he was cast when a mere lad in one state, the price set on his head in another, nor the tar-kettle to which he would on one occasion have been dragged but for a stout arm that came to his rescue, has been able to make Garrison swerve from what he considers to be his line of duty. Another cause of this disposition to passive endurance must be sought, and it is easily found: he is in love-deeply in love with all mankind. His principle is to "resist not evil;" and he acts upon it to the fullest extent. In fact, he appears to be several centuries in advance of his time, and to live in a millennium of his own creating.

t

We shall only add, that the effect which this remarkable man produced on the minds of those who companied with him while in Dublin, was of a very peculiar nature. Among these were persons of various sects and parties, and of all varieties of temperament, but nearly all seemed to concur in their estimate of his character. Though many seemed to think that he carried out the great principle of love to an unnecessary extent, none seemed able to gainsay his reasonings. Here and there tears were seen to start, not called forth by any sublime sentiment or tender emotion to which he had given words at the moment, but educed as it were by the abstract contemplation of the image of intense virtue which he represented; and most agreed in the opinion, that of all individuals with whom they had ever been acquainted, he was the one of whom it could be with most justice asserted, that none could hold much intercourse with him without becoming better. His Dublin host sailed to Liverpool on Monday evening for the mere purpose of enjoying his company for three hours more, which was all the arrangements the Boston steamer would permit, in which he was to leave Liverpool on Tuesday.

It would be an act of great injustice to close this article without making some mention of Garrison's congenial friend and companion Nathaniel Peabody Rogers of Plymouth, in New Hampshire, also the editor and proprietor of a newspaper, of whom, however, we shall only say, that if (as the phrase goes) anything happened to W. L. Garrison, he is the man who would be ready to occupy his place in the admiration and execration of America.

G. D.

TIME.-Time is the most undefinable yet most paradoxical of things: the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of the lightning, at once exists and expires. Time is the measure of all things, but is itself immeasurable, and the grand discloser of all things, but is itself undisclosed. Like space, it is incomprehensible, because it has no limit, and it would be still more so, if it had. It is more in its source than the Nile, and its termination, than the Niger; and advances like the slowest tide, but retreats like the swiftest torrent. It gives wings of lightning to pleasure, but feet of lead to pain, and lends expectation a curb, but enjoyment a spur. It robs beauty of her charms, to bestow them on her picture, and builds a monument to merit, but denies it a house; it is the transient and deceitful flatterer of falsehood, but the tried and final friend of truth. Time is the most subtle, yet the most insatiable of depredators, and by appearing to take nothing, is permitted to take all, nor can it be satisfied until it has stolen the world from us, and us from the world. It constantly flies, yet overcomes all things by flight; and although it is the present ally, it will be the future conqueror of death. Time, the cradle of hope, but the grave of ambition, is the stern corrector of fools, but the salutary counsellor of the wise, bringing all they dread to the one, and all they desire to the other; like Cassandra, it warns us with a voice that even the sages discredit too long, and the silliest believe too late. Wisdom walks before it, opportunity with it, and repentance behind it; he that has made it his friend, will have little to fear from his enemies; but he that has made it his enemy, will have little to hope from his friends.—Burn's Youthful Piety.

APOLOGUES AND FABLES,

IN PROSE AND VERSE, FROM THE GERMAN AND OTHER
LANGUAGES.

No. IV. THE EAGLE AND THE DOVE,
A TRANSLATION FROM GOETHE.

Joyous with youth, an Eagle spread his pinions
One sunny summer day,

And through the wilderness of Air's dominions
Arose in quest of prey,

When, lo! the forest-ranger's musquet roared,
And struck him as he soared,

Shattering the tendons of one buoyant wing,
And down to earth he fell, poor wounded thing!
Deep in the hollow of a grassy grove,

Where sleepy myrtles bloomed, and dark boughs wove
A trellis-curtain to shut out the sun,

He lay for three long days, with none

To tend him in that lowly lair,

And fed for three long nights upon his heart's despair!
All-healing Nature brought at length
Relief at least from agonizing pain,
And some return of youthful strength.
Feebly he leaves his couch and crawls along,
And tries to raise his wing alas ! in vain-
The glory has departed from the Strong,
And henceforth he can only hope to gain
A mean prey from the surface of that earth
Which gives the worm and beetle birth.
In mournful mood he rests beside a stream;
He looks up towards the tall majestic trees
Whose tops are waving to the mountain-breeze
He sees the sun's unconquerable beam
Shine forth; he gazes on his native skies,
And tears gush from his eyes.

While Sorrow thus oppressed the noble Bird,
A rustling sound was heard

A flutter as of soft wings through the grove-
And presently a Turtle-Dove

Alighted on a myrtle-bough anear.

He saw the Eagle droop his kingly head;"
He saw tear after tear

Fall from his eyes into the dark rill under,

And sentiments of Pity, blent with Wonder,

Troubled his tender breast. My friend, he said,

Thou grievest! What has made thee grieve?

Thou showest thy wing-Ah! thou art maimed for life!
Well! what of that? Thou shouldst rejoice to leave
A world whose very pleasures must be won by Strife!
For, hast thou not around thee here

All blessings that can make Existence dear?
When high the noontide sunbeam burns,
Yield not these latticed walls a soothing shade?
When starry Night again returns,

Doth not her lamp light up this pleasant glade?
The soft winds bring thee odours from yon orange bowers;
Almost thy very path lies over flowers!
The trees around thee, the rich earth below,
Teem with luxuriance of sweet fruits for food;
The rapid and resounding flood

That rushes downward from the mountain
Flows here, will here for ever flow,
Diminished to a silver fountain
That sings its way o'er golden sands,
Fringed by the lily and young violet.
Here hast thou all a placid soul demands !
What wouldst thou more? Or, canst thou still regret
A barren world, which only lures and jugglest
Its dupes to leave them doubly sad and lonely?
My friend! Mind was not made to spend itself in struggles!
True Happiness lies in Contentment only,
And true Contentment ever dwells apart
From Competition and Ambition-brooks

All wants is rich though poor, and strong when weakest!
Ah, Wise One! spake the Eagle—and his looks
Betrayed the unaltered anguish of his heart-
Ah, Wisdom! ever thus, and thus in vain, thou speakest!
M.

DIFFIDENCE.-A man gets along faster with a sensible married woman in hours than with a young girl in whole days. It is next to impossible to make them talk, or to reach them. They are like a green walnut: there are half a dozen outer coats to be pulled off, one by one and slowly, before you reach | Printed and published every Saturday by GUNN and CAMER ON, No. 6, Church Lane, College Green, Dublin; and sold by all Book pellera. the kernel of their characters.