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camel and the horse are their companions and support. The strangers who penetrate their wilds have always been regarded as lawful prizes. Under the various names of Edomites, Ishmaelites, Midianites, &c. we find their tribes in friendly or hostile relations with the nation of Israel, with whom many of them acknowledged a kindred. Their religious worship was chiefly directed to the heavenly bodies.-Ibid.

NEGRO LIBERTY.

A Parody on " I'd be a Butterfly." "ME be a nigger boy, born in de hovel,

What plantain da shade from de sun wha da shine;

Me learn to dig wid de spade and de shovel,
Me learn to hoe up de cane in a line.

Me drink my rum, in de calabash oval,

Me neber sigh for de brandy and wine;

Me be a nigger boy, born in de hovel,

What plantain da shade from de sun wha da shine.

Me be a nigger boy,

When me live happy, wha for me repine? *Me ueber run from my massa's plantation, Wha for me run? me no want for get lick; He gib me house, and me pay no taxation— Food when we famish, and nurse when me sick.

Willy-force nigger, he belly be empty,

He hab de freedom, dat no good fro me; My massa good man, he gib me plenty, Me no lobe Willy-force better dan he. Me be de nigger boy, Me happy fellow, den why me want free?" Fraser's Magazine.

DAVID, KING OF ISRAEL. DAVID was the model of an oriental prince, handsome in his person, valiant, mild, just, and generous; humble before his God, and zealous in his honour; a lover of music and poetry, himself a poet. Successful in war, he reduced beneath his sceptre all the countries from the borders of Egypt to the mountains whence the Euphrates springs. The king of Tyre was his ally; he had ports on the Red Sea, and the wealth of commerce flowed during his reign into Israel. He fortified and adorned Jeru

And for a time make me blush to mark

I'd sooner be within these four damp walls,
With three-fold fetters on me, with the worm,
That leaves its slimy trace of wretchedness,
For my companion, than the pampered wretch
Who, in his gorgeous tyranny above,
A people's curses for his nightly blessing!
Tramples upon a people's rights, and earns
My body is thy pris'ner, Gesler! Chains
May gall my flesh-may manacle my limbs,
The stain they've left upon them; but my mind
Can never be soiled by things like these!
(He clashes his chains.)
The coward crouches if the treacherous pard
Doth look on him. My spirit will not crouch,
Nor quail before the spotted beast. I feel
There's that within me which doth hold me up,
And prompt me, with a mighty, unseen power,
To deeds of future glory.-I am free-
Free in this prison house! I range at will
The mighty bulwarks of our mountain world.-
Over beloved Switzerland I go

With my mind's energy!

Think ye the spirit requires corporeal form
To converse with the spirit?

hours,

Are there not

Hours of pale solitude, when the outer world
Is to the inner world a thing as vague
As the obscure and twilight line that bounds
The dim horizon? for the mind can make,
By its own magic powers, worlds fairer far
Than this one!
(He pauses.)

Yea-it must, it must be so!

A beauteous land is passing now before me,
And there are glorious Alps whereon the Sun,
Oft in his journey, pauses to look back
Upon the paradise he leaves behind him!
And there are valleys basking in his beams,
Starr'd with white cottages and orange bowers,
And vine groves, where the light guitar is swept
To charm the golden fruitage.-I behold
Lakes blue as morning, where at eve the star
Delights to lave its far-descending rays,
And ancient forests, giant-like, advancing
With towering strides up to the high hill tops:
And ever and anon I hear the sounds,
The mighty sounds of avalanches rolling,
The crash of forests, and the roar of waters.
But in the vales the maiden's free voice rings,
And on the hills the bold-eyed mountaineer
Looks proudly up to Heaven; and children
sport

Like swallows on the lea, and ancient sires
Within the trelliced porch serenely sit,
And grandams read their missals in the sun,
Which Austrian banners dare not now obscure.
I cannot be mistaken-'tis my country!
O Switzerland! and shall it be a dream-

A wild imaginative dream?—No, no!
Thou shalt be free, thy fetters rive in twain;
The voice of prophecy is on me now!
Back roll the volumy clouds-the mighty mists
That veil the future, roll at my bidding back!
"Come forth!"-It comes! the Sun of Freedom

comes

And in its radiance Switzerland's banners sparkle,

Helvetic swords its beams are multiplying,

salem, which he made the seat of go- With its refulgent canopy of clouds, vernment. Glorious prospects of extended empire, and of the diffusion of the pure religion of Israel, and of happy times, floated before the mind of the prophet - king. --Cabinet Cyclopædia, Vol. ix.

SCENE FROM THE DELIVERANCE OF SWITZERLAND.

By H. C. Deakin, author of "Portraits of the Dead."

A Prison underneath the Castle of Altorf, dimly lighted.-Tell in chains-He paces up and down for a little time, and then pauses. In dignantly looking on his fetters, he exclaims

TELL.

THINK ye, vile chains! to curb the soul of Tell? Dungeons can never daunt the patriot's spirit!

Ten thousand stars upon their spear-points

tremble,

Ten thousand voices roll their living thunders.

And all cry "Liberty!" It is no dream!
They shout again-and my own name they shout.
"A Tell-a Tell! they cry.-I come, I come,
Sons of the free, and scorners of the slave!
Triumphant Vengeance calls-I come, I come!
Thou shalt be free, thy fetters rend asunder,
Thus as I rend my own!

(He suits the action to the words, and rends his chains.) Ah! and they are broken!Who comes there?

(Enter Merta, who rushes into his arms.)

ᎷᎬᎡᎢᎪ.

Alas, how little did I think, when next We met, it would be in thy prison, Tell!

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IN the third year of the 46th olympiad, Solon being archon, the landowners and citizens, debtors and creditors, were in open feud. Solon was called upon to legislate. His first step was to arrange matters between debtor and creditor, which he accomplished by altering the standard, and lowering the rate of interest. He then deprived the nobility of a portion of their former power, by dividing all the people into four classes, regulated by property: thus, while he introduced a democracy, founding a new aristocracy. The nobility, as possessors of the largest properties, as the sole members of the court of Areopagus, as possessed of the priesthoods, and directors of religious ceremonies, still retained an ample degree of influence. By the establishment of the Council of Four Hundred, an annually rotating college, he at once gave so many families an interest in the new order of things, that there remained no chance of its being totally subverted. He finally made all the people swear not to make any alteration during the next ten years, deeming that period sufficiently long for habituating them to the new constitution.-Cabinet Cyclopædia, Vol. ix.

PRESENT STATE OF HISTORY.

IN the south of Europe, as if for a warning to others to shun the evil, civil and religious despotism are still suffered by Providence to display their hideous forms; but in the New World, the incipient and chaotic state of freedom is travailing in the birth of a purer and more regular order of things. The "march sublime" of liberty is, we trust, not to be retarded for ages to come.

England has led the way in the glorious career; and the last blemish which stained her fair fame, and afforded a topic of reproach to her enemies, has been removed, while her councils were

directed by the warrior who so often had led her armies to victory. Esto perpetua.-Ibid.

ELECTION BLESSINGS.

PARLIAMENT is dissolved, and the community, speaking of it in the aggregate, is in raptures-why ?-because an hour of amusement, party conflicts, rioting, lawlessness, and profit, is at hand. One

set of people rejoice because there will be a gaudy show-a stirring spectacle; because there will be ribbons and colours, music and processions, broken windows and the battles of mobs, to delight them. These people have no vote, and they have no business which the election can benefit; nevertheless, they have as deep a stake in the matter as those who have; therefore are they not anxious that the most fitting men may be elected? Absurd! such anxiety could not perhaps be gratified, unless the exhibition were stripped of its leading beauties, if not wholly prevented: they are so far from entertaining it, that if they were called on to choose between the loss of the sights, and the expulsion of the very best members, by the election of the very worst, they would prefer the latter. They have their partialities and antipathies, but these are minor matters which must bow to the wish for a contest.

Another set of people, who are in trade, and whose sight never wanders from the shrine of profit and loss, rejoice because their business is on the point of receiving "a fillip." The mercer sees before him an animated demand for ribbons and handkerchiefs at his own prices-the glazier beholds a brilliant harvest of broken windowsoverwhelming calls for ale, spirits, wine, and post-horses, bewitch the eyes of the publican and innkeeper-and silk manufacturers, glass-makers, brewers, spirit merchants, &c. &c. are duly sensible of the approach of an influx of orders. These people have votes, but they place in return for purchases: one votes for them at the disposal of their customers,

this candidate, because Mrs. So-and-so will never enter his shop if he do not; another, because Mr. So-and-so promises him his business for so doing; and a third will not vote, because he cannot without losing his sales to certain families.

With them the issue of

the election, in regard to the public weal, is a matter not to be thought of; for a few extra orders, they would do their utmost to fill the House of Commons with lunatics and pickpockets.

ple, who, although not in business, still A third description comprehends peorejoice from motives of personal gain. They have votes to sell, and the tardy market once more irradiates the perspective; they seek dignities and emoluments for their children; and the patrons smile upon them in the distance whose favour can be melted by plumpers into the creation of clerks, excisemen, and butlers, milliners, ladies'-maids, and

cooks. If their hopes of profit rise no higher, they see before them a number of delectable days, on which they can get drunk without cost; kick up rows for public good, and break the peace under shelter of law. With these people, an election is only desired for the sake of such advantages, and it is used only to gain them: the highest bidder and most bountiful giver is the man to be elected; and the new House of Commons may do what it pleases with the empire.-Blackwood's Magazine.

The Naturalist.

THE BRITISH NATURALIST:

Spring-Summer.

THIS is a delightful little volume, into which every reader of our Miscellany may dip with pleasure and profit. Its precise plan is lucidly explained in the Preface, the author's object being to represent "the works of creation in their natural groups, so as to make "the pages of a written book have some resemblance to those of the book of Nature." The present portion of his design, as the sub-title explains, consists of half the year, or two seasons, and prefixed is "a very slight general glance at the natural history of the year, as affected by the motions of the earth, the changing actions of the sun and moon. This part is executed with as little technicality as is consistent with perspicuity. Towards the close of this summary, we find the following sensible observations on predictions of the weather :

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There is nothing more common than to predict the future state of the season from some single appearance in the early part of it; and yet there is nothing more unphilosophical or fallacious. An early blossom, an early bee, or an early swallow, or the early appearance of any other production of nature, is no evidence whatever of the kind of weather that is to come, though the belief that it is so is both very general and very obstinate. The appearance of these things is the effect of the weather, not the cause; and it is what we may call an external effect, that is, it does not enter into the chain of causation. The weather of to-day must always have some influence upon the weather of to-morrow; but its effect will not be altered in the smallest tittle, whether it does or does not call out of the cranny in which it has been hybernated, some wasp, or some swallow that was too weak for the autumnal

migration. Birds, blossoms, and butterflies do not come in expectation of fine weather; if they did, the early ones would show that they see not far into futurity, for they generally come forth only to be destroyed. They come in consequence of the good weather which precedes their appearance, and they know no more of the future than a stone does. Man knows of to-morrow only as a rational being; and were it not that he reasons from experience and analogy, he would have no ground for saying that the sun of to-day is to set. The early leaf and the early blossom of this spring may be a consequence of the fine weather of last autumn, which ripened the wood or forwarded the bud, and the early insect may be evidence that the winter has been mild; but not one of these, or any thing.connected with plants or animals, taken in itself, throws light upon one moment of the future; and for once to suppose that it does, is to reverse the order of cause and effect, and put an end to all philosophy-to all

common sense.

"And are we to draw no conclusions from the phenomena of plants and animals, which have been popular prognostics of the weather from time immemorial,-not from the face-washing of the cat, or the late roosting of the rook, which have been signs infallible time out of mind? No, not a jot from the conduct of the animals themselves, unless we admit that cats and crows have got the keeping and command of the weather. These actions of theirs, and very many (perhaps all) phenomena of plants and animals are produced by certain existing states of the weather; and it is for man to apply his observation and find out by what other states these are followed. The cat does not wash her face because it is to rain to-morrow; that, in the first place, would be throwing philosophy to the cats;' and in the next place, it would be doing so to marvellously little purpose, inasmuch as, if puss were thus informed of the future, she would only have to wait a day in order to get a complete washing without any labour or trouble. When the cat performs the operation alluded to, it is a proof that the present state of the atmosphere affects her skin in a way that is disagreeable, and the washing is her mode of relief; and, in as far as the cat is concerned, that is an end of the matter. Man, however, may take it up, and if he finds that in all cases, or in a great majority of cases, this happens only before rain, he is warranted in concluding that the state of the atmosphere which

6

impresses this action upon the cat, is also the state which precedes rain; and that in the cases where the rain does not follow, there has been a subsequent atmospheric change which is also worthy of his study.

"What it is in this case, and whether connected with the little action in the fur of the animal by which electricity can be excited, we shall not inquire; but in the late roosting of the crows the cause is apparent; they feed upon larvæ and earth-worms; these, especially the latter, come most abroad in the evenings before rain; and as most animals gorge themselves, where food is easily found, there is no reason why rooks should not follow the general law."

We are pleased with the author's observation on the cat-washing prediction, and, in our own special fondness for tracing the plain causes of popular effects, we had arrived at nearly the same conclusion. The electrical excitement of the cat's fur and skin seems to us produced by the peculiar state of the atmosphere immediately preceding rain; and, we doubt not, the frequent coincidence gave rise to the popular notion or prediction. Swift, somewhere accounts for the approbation of a book, by its author flattering the reader's opinion; but, to prove that our commendation is not thus grounded we quote another extract of much graphic beauty. The author dates his preface from a "Bank of the Thames " -probably of the district which he thus describes :

"One of the most favourable places in England for hearing the song of the petty chaps, and, indeed, the songs of those birds, generally, that frequent the richer districts, is the left bank of the Thames, from Hampton Court to Richmond Bridge; and it is not very easy to imagine a finer treat to the lover of freshness, and sound, and evening scenery, than a walk (wheels and hoofs jar mightily in a concert of birds) between those places on a fine night in the end of May; and if moonlight, so much the better. Until the sun be down, there is a great deal of noise and chirping, but not much music; but when the evening softens the air, and the lime and the walnut take the lead among the perfumes of the evening, as you pass the lee of them in that gentle motion of the air which wafts sweetness, but does not wave leaves, the song of the night-the real vesper of nature begins; and though broken in upon at times by the baying of a watch dog, the bellowing of an ox, the bleating of a sheep, or the tinkle of a sheep bell, it is none

the worse; nor do the monitor sounds of the clock, as they come muttered through the trees, at all diminish the interest, but rather mingle with it the melancholy memento, that, fine as it is, you can enjoy it but for a time; or the more useful one, that you should seize the phenomena of every moment for instruction, according to the mood you may be in. The freshness, the checkered light through the trees, the occasional glimpse of the river dancing in the reflected moonbeam, like living silver, put you in mind that it is not a pond that stagnates and mantles, and scatters miasma and infection, but a rolling flood which wafts riches, and and scatters fertility and health; the lights from palace, and villa, and cottage, and those joyous sounds which come ever and anon, to remind you that for all that has been done and suffered, it is merry England' still; the dark shadow of some thick and stately tree that throws you, your path, and all around, into a momentary eclipse, or the trailing mark of some limber poplar, as though it were the tail of a comet, lustreless and flung dark, yet unsubstantial upon the earth :-But you are in no humour to look even at the halfrevealed beauties of one of the richest districts in the world, rendered doubly rich by the Rembrandt shades of the greater masses of matter, in contrast with the silver orb,' seen at intervals, through the upper sprays and leaves, or its more retiring reflection from the water, in the openings among the thick stems and dark foliage below; for the nightingale is on the topmost bough in the coppice, and small as he is, his voice is heard as far as that of a muezzin from the top of a minaret. There he does not sing alone, for in that thicklywooded and well-watered district—a district which is the land of Goshen to the insect-discovering birds-he has a rival in every coppice, and, in some places, almost upon every tree; and as though the note of each comes to the ear of a listener differently pitched and toned, according to the mass of air through which its pulsations have to be propagated, the two which are in strife which shall win the dame,' or charm her the most after she is won, are equally loud to each other. No combination of the letters of the alphabet can give even a notion of the song of the nightingale of any of the songs, for he has not only more notes than any other bird, but has absolutely a cabinet of music; and though there be a wonderful melody in them all, some are so unlike the others,

that one could with difficulty believe that they are uttered by the same bird. It is vain, however, to attempt describing the music of that minstrel; those who are familiar with it, would, of course, laugh at the most laboured delineation; and to those who are not, description is little better than playing an air to the deaf, or painting a rose-bud to the blind."

We ought to mention that a considerable portion of the volume is occupied by the natural economy of birds, the author considering them "from their greater powers of locomotion, the best animated indexes to the seasons." He does not bow to ill-founded prejudices, or bend to the mere authority of great names: for example, in the question of the cuckoo and hedge-sparrow, the valuable authority of Dr. Jenner (in the Philosophical Transactions,) is not quoted.

The work is elegantly printed, and illustrated with several well-engraved cuts of British birds.

SPIRIT OF THE

Public Journals.

THE INCONVENIENCES OF A CONVENIENT DISTANCE.

ex

It was on the fifth of August that the Wadds took possession of their new mansion at Turnham Green. On the sixth (Friday), as the clock struck five, and just as they were sitting down to dinner, the stage-coach stopped at the door. The servant announced the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Wadd, and Master Tom. Rufus Wadd stood like one transfixed-like his royal namesake, if you please. "By Jingo, Rufus," claimed his cousin Bob, "you are at the most convenient distance!-delightful! Fine afternoon, nothing to do, at halfpast three Betsy and I took it into our heads to come down, no sooner said than done. Capital loin of veal that, upon my word. Took little Tom with us,Tom, my dear, don't be picking the edges of that tart, they'll give you some presently, jumped into a Turnham Green coach at the Goose and Gridiron, and here we are, just in pudding-time." There was no parrying this blow; but Rufus resolved to avail himself of the sweetest vengeance that occurred to him knowing that his visiters were fond of a little of the kidney, he swallowed the whole of it himself.-"Capital port this, Rufus. Now see, Betsy, my dear, 'tis, as I told you, a most con

venient distance- plenty of time to take one's wine comfortably, get a cup of: Ha! where's Tom? O, I see him among the strawberries. " (Rufus's heart sank within him.) "Can't leave the little fellow with you to-night, but he shall come and spend a month with you before we lose the fine weather: nice distance for the boy. As I was saying, time to take our wine and coffee; at half-past eight the stage calls for us, and at ten, there we are at home. Charming distance, isn't it, Betsy, my dear ?"-Half-past eight came, and the guests went. This won't do, thought Rufus; but he not only thought it, he said it, and swore it too. That night he slept not.

The next day (Saturday) he gave strict charge to the servants that, if any one should come to dinner, they were to say the family were all out. The order happened to be needless, for no one did come, and Rufus began to resume his usual good humour. At eight o'clock a stage-coach drove up to the gate, and down jumped a little, round, red, fat man, with a small portmanteau in his hand. "Who-the-devil-isthat, and what can he want?" It was Mr. Wobble, the underwriter, one of the pleasantest fellows in the city, and one whom Mr. Wadd was always delighted to see--at other people's houses. "Ha! Wadd, my boy! Mrs. W. I'm yours. Ha! Miss Jemima ! Delightful house, I declare-comes up to all I have heard of it ! And the distance! Stage sets you down at the very door, the-very-door. Nice house, indeed, and-Bow, wow, wow-that'll never do; you must chain up that dog to-night, Wadd; I can't sleep in a house where there is a dog barking." "Sleep!" echoed Wadd; "why surely you are not come to sleep here?""I'm not come to lie awake all night, I can tell you that. Ha! ha! ha! you know my way: I always take the bull by the horns. Ha! ha! ha! first come, first served.

Ha ha! ha! you may have the house full to-morrow-Sunday, you know-and then Sam Wobble might come off second best. But don't put yourselves out of the way; any thing will do for me; a garret, any thing, only let me have a good bed and plenty of pillows. I leave that to you, my dear Mrs. W. I have a short neck, and must sleep with my head high, else I might go off suddenly in the night, and a funeral in a newly-furnished house would make such a mess, wouldn't it, Wadd? I suppose you have dined? So have I. I know you are supping-people, so I

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