A FEW WORDS ABOUT BEARS.

IN what we are going to say about bears, we dis

claim any sort of allusion to certain varieties of

the human kind; we speak only of veritable bears animals more sociable at times than their brothers by metaphor. And as we are not writing their natural history, we shall not pause to describe them, but shall merely observe that the savans have given to the bear and the monkey an origin in common with ourselves. We are, in fact, according to the authorities above mentioned, bears-only a little advanced. They suggest that, in his manner of fighting, the bear erects himself upon his hinder feet, like us; and, to carry the semblance still further, that he hits with his fists, throws stones dexterously,

licks his paws, loves dancing, and is susceptible of education. Our present purpose is to say a few words concerning some celebrated individuals of the

bear family.

We shall have occasion, in a few minutes, to speak more at length of the bear of Saint Ghislain. Meanwhile, we will notice the bear of Saint Vaast, Bishop of Arras, an animal which that holy prelate trained so well that it rendered him eminent service, in memory of which the monks of Saint Vaast had always a bear in their abbey.

Saint Corbinian obliged a bear to carry him instead of his ass, which this bear had eaten. Saint Martin of Verton did the same thing.

The devil has often taken the shape of a bear -a distinction, duly appreciated by the bear, no doubt.

Saint Ghislain (or, as some call him, Guillain) is

monastery was suppressed, an eagle and a she bear were constantly kept there, in memory of the Saint, who died in 670.

But before dying he desired to visit Saint Armand, said to have been of Greek origin, and was Bishop who was preaching the true faith at Antwerp, and on of Athens. He was despatched into the province of his way thither, Saint Ghislain stopped for a time Hainault from Rome by Pope Honorius; but we near Brussels, in a part of the forest of Soignes, prefer thinking he was a Belgian, as his name indi-which now forms part of the city. He there effected cates. However that may have been, he retired many conversions, and built, to the honor of Saint from the world in 648, and built himself, near Mons, Peter, a small chapel; the road which conducted to little hermitage, where he lived in such sanctity it, and which now leads from the Rue des Tanneurs that the example of his virtues, as well as the unction into the Rue Haute, is still called the Rue Saint of his discourse, decided Sainte Valdetrude and Sainte Ghislain. Aldegonde to embrace a religious life. He made, it is said, a multitude of conversions.

a

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One day, as King Dagobert, who reigned over both
France and Belgium, was hunting in the forests of
Hainault, he strayed from his company in pursuit of
large bear, which, knowing what it was about,
sought refuge in the hermitage of Saint Ghislain.
The saint was at his devotions, and did not look
round. The bear squatted beside a basket, in which
the hermit left his sacerdotal ornaments.
King Dagobert entered the hermitage, and was not
little startled and surprised to see the monstrous
animal lying at the feet of an old man engaged

in prayer.

Soon after,

a

Saint Ghislain turned at the noise made by the
prince's entrance.
He then perceived what had oc-
curred, and begged the life of the bear. Dagobert
immediately recognised the man of God, whose name
was celebrated throughout the country, and accorded

The city of Brussels was then in its infancy, being almost entirely enclosed within the Grande Ile of Saint Gery. By the side of a bridge, defended by a wooden gate, which led into the city, stood, just where the Marche-aux-Eufs now stands, a small house, built at the edge of the Senne. An old man, whom Saint Gery had brought over to the true faith, and whom he had baptised under the name of Etienne, lived there. This Etienne had a daughter, pretty, pious and charitable, with whom the buyers and sellers of fish, &c., placed the alms which the early Christians were wont to devote to the relief of poor pilgrims and travellers.

One day a renowned brigand, named Stock, having seen the young maiden, was so smitten with her that he resolved, during the night, to force an entrance into her father's house, to carry off the treasure We read in the Reverend Denis-le-Chartreux, that which he knew was kept there for the help of the a Norwegian hermit passed many months in the poor, and to possess himself of the beautiful girl— society of a bear, with whom he now and then con- that which he had solicited; and after embracing with violence even, should she resist; a common him, and praying him to rely upon him for counte-exploit with the ferocious villain, who was the terror nance and support, he retired and left the Saint with of the country, and whom no one had ever been able

versed, and in whom he found much more upright

ness than in the common run of men.

Bears have done many good actions. Of these we note one performed in the service of Saint Columba, who was protected by a she bear against the evil designs of a brigand.

Formerly there were great numbers of bears in the forests of Belgium. A large one, pursued by the Emperor Charlemagne, took refuge in the church of

Saint Gudule, at Morzèle, and, miraculously affected

by the sanctity of the place which had given him an asylum, he would not afterwards leave the innocent virgins, with whom the bear lived like a lamb. So say the old chroniclers.

In many ways the bear has been held in honor. Without speaking of the two constellations which shine in the heavens under his name, we may men

tion that a Swedish family (as you may read in Olaus Magnus) prides itself upon its descent from the warrior Uphon, son of a bear. Don Ursino le Navarino was proud of having been suckled by a bear. Two Swiss cantons have taken the bear for their arms; and the Emperor Frederick II. founded at Saint Gall the Order of the Bear.

We read in Saint Foix, who cites his authorities, that when the Ostiacks have killed a bear, they make him the humblest excuses possible for having taken his life, representing to him that, in point of fact, it was not they who had taken his life, because they had not forged the iron by which he had been pierced; than which, it must be confessed, nothing could be more polite and convincing.

When the Canadians have killed a bear, one of the hunters places a pipe between the animal's teeth, in sign of reconciliation.

his bear.

No sooner was the King departed than the bear
arose, took up the basket with its contents, and,
laden with this precious burden, fled away towards
the place where she had left her young. She knew
that by so doing she would be able to draw thither
the hermit who had protected her. The spot was a

charming and picturesque one, afterwards called
Ursidong, or the Bears Grove, situated in the forest,
on the border of the river Haine, which has given its

name to Hainault.

As the bear had calculated, Ghislain followed her; but, impelled by the desire to join her little ones, she went so fast that the Saint in a very short time lost sight of her. He found himself bewildered in the midst of the vast forest, where the foot of man had never yet traced a path, when an eagle appeared before him, fluttering to attract his attention. Ghislain, seeing something extraordinary in all this, suffered himself to be guided by the eagle, and presently arrived at the Grove of the Bear.

to vanquish.

By chance the good Saint Ghislain, on his return
from Antwerp, had come at night-fall to demand
At one o'clock, when all the
shelter of old Etienne.
world was sleeping except the Saint, who was recit-
ing his matins, the atrocious Stock noiselessly entered

the house. Before thinking of looking for the money
which he proposed to carry off, he turned an eager
gaze upon the beautiful form of the sleeping virgin.
Unhesitating in his diabolical purpose, he moved
towards her, but as he did so he felt himself seized
from behind; two powerful hands held him as in a
vice;
his prodigious strength, which nothing had
ever before overcome, was exerted now in vain. In
the efforts which he made to turn and face his
antagonist, he distinguished the head of an enormous
bear. He uttered a horrible cry.

The maiden awoke, terrified, and scarcely conscious of what was passing before her. The bear of Saint Ghislain, carrying the stifled brigand, opened a window at the back of the house, which overhung the Senne, and threw him into the river, which bore his body helplessly away towards the sea.

This spot he found to be so attractive and convenient, that he transported thither his dwelling. His new friends, the eagle and the bear, never The fair girl, after falling on her knees, and quitted him. Numerous anchorites, drawn by the reports of these marvels, came and placed themselves rendering thanks to heaven, went and aroused her under the discipline of the Saint. They built a grand father; and at break of day the Saint, blessed by all, monastery, around which, in process of time, grew a departed with his faithful companion the bear. town, which was called Saint Ghislain. It is two leagues from Mons and four from Condé. The Abbots of Saint Ghislain were lords spiritual and temporal.

Above old Etienne's door was sculptured the figure of the animal which had at once saved his daughter and delivered the country of the horrible Stock. At the present time, the same house, many times reUp to the end of the last century, when the built, is an estaminet, the sign of which is a bear.

TETE-A-TETE,

WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.

MADA
ADAME ANNA THILLON, whose bewitch-
ing acting and fine singing have so long de-
lighted the Knickerbockers, has sung her last song,
and smiled her last smile in this country. Her last
appearance, which was the occasion of a complimen-
tary testimonial, was one of those brilliant affairs that
occur but at brief intervals in the dramatic world.
Niblo's never presented a more inspiriting and beau-
tiful scene that it did on that evening. It was
crowded, absolutely and unqualifiedly; crowded in
every corner, crevice, or "point of vantage," by a
brilliant and an enthusiastic audience. And when,
at the close, the lady was summoned forth, a niagara
of flowers poured down upon her devoted head, and
to one of the bouquets a something was attached,
which a lady in our company, with a proverbial femi
nine shrewdness, guessed to be a diamond bracelet.
Whether diamond or a bracelet, we sayeth not; but
the lady spoke with every assurance of confident
knowledge.

gave no clue to a solution of the question. At last
a gentleman suggested a ruse. While others were to
engage him in conversation, another was to dandle
up and down a baby, and at last, by accident, appear
to drop it. The proposal was adopted, and at the
climax, when the apparent catastrophe occurred, the
suspected youth gave a sudden and decided scream.
This evidence was voted sufficient. Had he been a
man, it would not have been a scream, but an oath.
He, or she, was confronted with the charge, when in
much confusion, she confessed her sex. The name
of the sagacious gentleman who proposed the ruse is
not given. It should be. What was it?

THE best of arguments, logical and con-
clusive, may sometimes be utterly ruined by a smart
stroke of ridicule. A young man, who was known
generally to be obliged to wear "a scratch," came to
a period, not long ago, in a debating club. "I must
say I like what the gentleman says, well enough,"
replied his opponent; "but what of that? He may
manage to get off tolerably good things at times, in
his way; but when he's got entirely through, one
can't help thinking he's no very great scratch, after
all! The other side prevailed, of course.

AT a place of public amusement the other evening, we saw an excellent illustration of the superior power of coolness over passion. A bullying, blustering fellow, for some cause or the other, had taken offence at a gentleman near him, and began to swear at and threaten him. The gentleman eyed him very quietly, and replied to him in a few cool

There has been no prima donna amongst us lately so generally popular as Madame Thillon. Her singing may not be brilliant, but it has expression, while her acting is perfectly fascinating-genial, hearty, and overflowing with an abundance of animal spirits. She is en voyage for Europe. It is to be hoped that she will yet relent of her purpose to visit this country no more, and once again let us enjoy the warm sun-words. light of her smile and the eloquent glance of her eye. PEACHES!

Melons!!
Cholera!!!

"Well, sir, when will you begin?" was the provokingly cool rejoinder, as the speaker slowly and quietly rose from his seat.

This reply brought down such a laugh upon he of the pugilistic accomplishment, that he calmed down at once, virtually confessing himself conquered.

vented formerly the successful operation of his plan have now been overcome. Well, we shall see what we shall see, and believe when we have seen. But what has become of his other plan of making combustible the "casing air?" It would seem as if he had a perfect passion for merging the three great elements into one, viz., fire: which fondness for an article possessed so extensively in other regions, looks as though he might be an emissary of the Evil One. In the olden time the greatest of impossibilities was setting the North River on fire. Now, however, the possibility of it is strongly claimed, and with this possibility the power also of firing the atmosphere. Just think once of the danger of this last idea. Supposing it to be demonstrated beyond doubt, think of us momentarily imbibing a something that might suddenly make us a very hot oven, and do us very brown. But really if the air should turn out to be combustible, ought it not to be rated extra-hazardous? And wouldn't it be the duty of our city fathers to pass an edict compelling it to be stored outside city limits? Will somebody tell us ?"

WE came across a young lady in the cars the other day, who amused us considerably, if not more, in spite of ourself. She was one of a small travelling party. She sat facing her friends, and riding backwards. A book was in her hands, and her head was bent over to it busily. She was deep in the story, we knew it was a novel,-and going it at as swift a rate as the train itself. Her lips moved fast, fashioning the words on the page with their ruby outlines. While the words were "I'll break your head for you!" thundered out the smooth and small, especially while there was a pretty now furious bully. steady run of monosyllabics across the printed leaf, she made quite pretty work of it; but the moment she tripped out from these, and began to flounder about among big-jointed words, gnarled and twisted at their huge roots, and entangled all up with adjectives, prepositions, and hitherto unknown proper nouns, we actually feared for the dislocation of her SAYS the "Boston Post :"-" There jaws. Her lips were twisted in a way we couldn't are thirteen thousand marriageable girls now in the describe, if we were to try a week. And, finally, factories at Lowell. It is pleasant to know, in she was obliged to give it up as a bad job, and bite this world of misery, that there are thirteen thou- | her lips for as much as ten minutes, to hold them toand men yet to be made happy. (?)" gether. But to see her open her mouth to get off Now we want to inquire of the " Boston Post" the big, long words! It was real fun. what it means by that note of interrogation (?) at the close of the above paragraph? Does the "Post" mean ironically to insinuate against the certainty of such happiness? Does it mean a sly sneer against any kind of matrimonial happiness? Is the "Post" indulging in an underhand sarcasm at the sex generally? These questions we propound gravely, and we expect replies solemn and truthful. A score of ladies, at whose instigation we speak, demand an

What a conjunction, to be sure, have we here! Ah, yes, indeed, what a pity it is now that one cannot see the rich, red, crisp heart of the melon laid open before him, but what straightway grim visions of the cholera must start up to fright his soul from its propriety. How confoundedly provoking it is to be unable to contemplate the glowing, dappled cheek of the luscious peach, but dreams of cramps and spasms and collapses must thrust themselves between you and your happiness. And then the pear, too, even the golden vergalos, why must it too be thrust into such disagreeable company? What, O beneficent and all bountiful Pomona, who from thy willing hand scattereth such rich treasures upon the earth what hast thou done that this shame should come upon thy offspring? Why must the apple, the pear, the plum, the peach, and the melon be but the precursor, the herald, the ally even of that dark and dread monster, who strides now over the earth striking down and blasting the human kind? Oh, Po-answer. mona, let thy gifts be to us as they were wont ! Let them confer no more sickness and sorrow upon us. Let them be to us, as of yore, full of gladness and of pleasure a boon and a blessing to all the earth.

The meaning of that note of interrogation they are resolved to know. They think that they snuff in it a wholesale contempt for them, and an outright pity for those bearded ones who are succuessfully netted in the great matrimonial web. And if their suspicions prove true, let the perpetrator of that paragraph, and the author of that note of interrogation, beware.

A NEW Solomon hath appeared. Our exchanges tell a story of an instance of Solomonania that occurred in a Western town, well worth passing from hand to hand. A stranger had arrived at the PAINE, whom we thought was sunk into hotel of the town, whose youthful and femenine-like | oblivion deeper than ever plummet sounded, has sudappearance led to the suspicion that he possessed no denly turned up again with his grand invention of legitimate right to the breeches. It was a delicate making water burn. Some of the press are again pufmatter to assert, and his manner and conversation | fing him, and saying that certain obstacles which pre

A FRIEND is the authority for the following little anecdote. A certain reverend gentleman, upon one occasion, was accosted after service, by a member of church, a judge, who liked to be, on occasions, something critical.

“Well, sir,” said the judge, “that was a very cloquent sermon of yours."

"Yes, it was," was the reply of the parson, who knew his man.

THERE is another new poet in England. A VERY wicked wag, who evidently But new poets in England, since the dawn of Alex-hunts through his Bible sometimes for something ander Smith, are of daily occurrence; and, what is else than sound doctrine with which to fortify himstrange, the young Scotchman's peculiar kind of self against temptation, lately came upon the passage gerius seems to have sprung up in a great many in the Old Testament in which is told the story of different quarters. His imitators are numerous, and Balaam and his ass. The miracle of the ass's speakthe imitations wonderfully like—so much so, indeed, ing astonished him, as it seemed, more than ever. that the reader is almost tempted to think that He puzzled over it a long time, but to no practical Alexander's style, after all, is but mere sham and purpose. At last light seemed to dawn on his sounding brass, it can be imitated with so much beclouded brain :facility. But the new poet of whom we wish to speak is called Bigg. Certainly the new school of poets does not afford us names quite so swelling and imposing as Shelley, and Southey, and Wordsworth. BIGG! "Phæbus, what a name!"-we all know the quotation. Bigg is full of all the extravagancies and absurdities of his school. He prates incessantly of stars, and moons, and suns; of mountains, seas, and lakes. His imagery exists only in the most magnificent, gorgeous, and gigantic things of creation. Everything with him is of the superlative; he is forever plunging into wild excesses; his Pegasus bestrides the world with gigantic leaps, And yet, with all his extravagancies, his talents are really of a high order. The following lyric is about the purest and the best thing in his volume :

"Thou pleadest love, and all things plead ;
For what is life but endless needing;
All worlds have wants beyond themselves,
And live by ceaseless pleading

“The earth yearns towards the sun for light,
The stars all tremble towards each other;
And every moon that shines to-night
Hangs trembling on an elder brother.
"Flowers plead for grace to live, and bees
Plead for the tinted doom of flowers;
Streams rush into the big-soul'd seas;
The seas yearn for the golden hours.
The moon pleads for her preacher, Night;
Old ocean pleadeth for the moon ;
Noon flies into the shades for rest;
The shades seek out the moon.

Life is an everlasting seeking,

Souls seek, and pant, and plead for truth,

Youth hangeth on the skirts of age,
Age yearneth still towards youth.

"And thus all cling unto each other;

For nought from all things else is riven.
Heaven bendeth o'er the prostrate earth,
Earth spreads her arms towards heaven.

"So, do thou bend above me, love,
And I will bless thee from afar ;
Thou shalt be heaven, and I the sea
That bosometh the star."

HERE is a scrap of excellent advice from
Goethe, seasoned with a little philosophy withal :-
"Lose this day loitering, 'twill be the same story
To-morrow, and the rest more dilatory:
Thus indecision brings its own delays,

And days are lost lamenting over days.
Are you in earnest ? Seize this very minute;
What you can do, or dream you can, begin it;
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it;
Only engage, and then the mind grows heated;
Begin, and then the work will be completed!"

THAT was an exceedingly keen repartee of Lamb to Coleridge, one day, when they were dining out together, and quite as genial, too, as it was keen. "Did you ever hear me preach, Lamb ?" asked the great talker. "Damme," interrupted the punster, "I've never heard you do anything else!”

"What is it?" asked a friend at his elbow.
"Here it is now, the whole truth in a ltttle bit of a
nutshell! Balaam's ass talked to her master, and
the world has been wondering about it ever since:
but if you'll read the whole story carefully through,
you'll find that there is'nt so very much to wonder at;
for the secret all comes out, when you observe that
it says the creature was a female!"

"Ah! I have it—I have it!" said he, rubbing his spot in the country, thinks of trying, another season, hand. to raise a large quantity of snuff for market, from planting a great breadth of ground with "snuff beans." He has likewise written to an agricultural paper to know, if he can prevent his vines from running where he may not wish them to, by looking out sharp and nipping off their feet as soon as they appear. He is at the present time engaged in planting the seeds of fruit trees in boxes, in his wife's nursery, and hopes the children will amuse themselves with something besides digging them up before they come up of their own desire. Will the Committees of our Agricultural Societies please keep their eyes on him?

A SCOTCH poet, scarcely known in this
country, by name James Wilson, who died in 1807,
left a posthumous poem on "Silent Love," in which
this passion is admirably pourtrayed. The poet him-
self was a victim to it. He "never told his love,"

but fed upon it, until it consumed him. The follow-
ing extract gives the description of one who truly
felt what he wrote; and of a love, also, which he
declares," amid all changes, knew no change:"

"No man e'er loved like me. When but a boy
Love was my solace, my only joy;
It's mystic influence fired my tender soul,
And held me captive in its soft control!
By night it ruled in bright etherial dreams;
By day in latent ever-varying themes;
In solitude, or mid the city's throng,
Or in the festal halls of mirth and song;
Through loss or gain, through quietude or strife,
This was the charm, the heart-pulse of my life,
While age has not subdued the flame divine,
A votary still I worship at the shrine !
When cares enthral, or when the soul is free,
'Tis all the same-no man e'er loved like me!
O! she was young who won my yielding heart,
Nor power of genius nor the pencil's art,
Could half the beauties of her mind portray,
E'en when inspired, and how can this, my lay?
Two eyes that spoke what language ne'er can do,
Soft as twin violets moist with early dew;
And on her cheeks the lily and the rose
Blent beauteously in Halcyon repose;
While coral lips apart revealed within
Two rows of pearls, and on her dimpled chin
The Graces smiled; a bosom heaved below,
Warm as the sun, but pure as forest snow;
Her copious ringlets hung in silken trains
O'er alabaster streak'd with purpling veins ;
Her pencill'd eyebrows arching fair and high
O'er lids so pure they scarcely screen'd the eye:
In sylph-like symmetry her form combin'd
To prove the fond endearments of the mind;
While on her brow benevolence and love
Sat meekly, like two emblems from above,
And every thought that had creation there
But made her face still more divinely fair."

A CORRESPONDENT relates that he over

a

A FRIEND of ours, in conversation with

balloonist, the other day, was speaking of the great improvements made in the matter of pistols. He liked the revolver well enough, yet he rather clung to a pair of old horse-pistols that had reached him as an heir-loom from many a generation back, and bespoke for them a kind consideration,

"Yes, yes," said the balloon-man, appreciatively, "I think I understand the whole nature of your preference. I must confess I should entertain the same myself. I am quite partial, I believe, to anything like a pair o' shoot (parachute)!"

HERE is a thrilling poem, which we advise our lady friends to read with salts at command:

"I saw him bare his throat, and seize
The blue, cold, gleaming steel,
And grimly try the tempered edge,
He was so soon to feel.

"He raised on high the glittering blade,
Then first I found a tongue,
'Hold, madman! stay the frantic deed "
I cried, and forth I sprung.

"He heard me, but he heeded not,

One glance around he gave,
And ere I could arrest his hand,
He had--began to shave!"

BLACKWOOD, whose opinions must be acknowledged to be entitled to great weight, uses the following language upon the subject of romancereading:

"There is nothing good comes from the intellect alone. All true sentiment, all noble, all tender feeling, comes not of the understanding, but of the mind-or heart, if we so please to call it which imagination raises, educates, and perfects. Even feelings are to be made-and are much the result of education. The wildest romances will, in this respect, teach nothing wrong. It is not true that such reading enervates the mind; I firmly believe it strengthens it in every re

heard the other day the following conversation in the spect, by unchanging it from a lower and cowardly caution.
street between two little boys:
1st. Boy.
is just come."

It encourages action and endurance. We have not high natures till we learn to suffer. I have seen the unromantic "Oh, Bill, Patty's dead, and the coffin drop like sheep under the rot of their calamities; while the romantic have been buoyant, and mastered them."

2nd. Boy. "I say, Joe, where do you buy your coffins? We buy our'n in the Sixth Avenue. They keep the pürtiest there; don't you think so?"

We commend the above to the attention of all those people, whose habit it is to decry romantic

fiction.