The Sun.
London, England, 1853-04-11 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

Chamois Hunting in •the Mountains of Bavaria.
By Charles Boner. Chapman and Hall.
This interesting work consists of various sketches
of chamois hunting in Southern Germany. It is
neither a work of fiction nor the relation of extra-
ordinary achievements or perils. The author
simply endeavours to describe chamois hunting as
it is ; he presents to the reader a narrative of his
adventures in the Bavarian mountains, describing
the habits and peculiarities of their inhabitants,
both human and animal. The perpetud warfare
that exists between the jagers (keepers) and the
poachers resembles much the border warfare of the
Cheviots in olden times, when each pass and road
was watched ; their mutual hatred is so great
that in some parts they fire at each other whenever
they get a chance. There is scarcely a ridge or pass
that has not some tale of deadly struggle or secret
murder. The mountains possess a charm which
the Bavarian cannot resist, and out he must be
with his rifle, although he knows that if ho pass
any spot where a jager is concealed, he will, in all
probability, be shot dead. The description which
the author gives of the chamois is interesting.
" The Chamois is no goat, but belongs to the antelope
genus (Antilopc rupocapra) of which it is the only speci-
men inhabiting Europe. It is larger and more strongly
built than a roebuck, and is much heavier. A good
buck will weigh 551 b., and one above 601 b. is a particu-
larly fine fellow. My friend, Count Arco, has, however,
shot some that weighed 741 b. and 821 b. But such are
rare and difficult to get at ; for these old bucks remain
alone in their inaccessible fastnesses and the most se-
cluded places ; and it is only when the winter has set in,
and the rutting season begun, that there is any chance
of seeing them. In order to do so, the hunter must
brave the intense cold, as well as all the dangers of a re-
gion of snow and ice, for he will be led to places where
good nerves are required, not to feel overcome with
horror at the scene around. The hair of the chamois
changes its colour at various seasons of the year, as is
the case with the roe and the red and fallow deer. In
summer their coat is of a red yellowish brown ; in autumn
it grows much darker, and in winter is quite black. But
though the changes here indicated may be looked upon
as the general rule, there will often be found in the same
herd one or more differing strikingly from the rest, of a
buff colour perhaps, while all the rest are of a reddish
brown. The hair of the forehead, around the nose and
lower jaw, and the inside of the ears, is of a yellow.
ish tinge, and remains throughout the year the same.
The belly, the inside of the legs, and the shaggy hair
that overhangs the hoofs are also of this colour, and
never change ; the black stripe too on both sides of the
head, extending from the eyes to the corners of the
mouth, remains a striking feature under every circum-
stance. The outer hair is long and coarse ; that over
the ridge of the back is of greater length than on any
other part of the body, especially in winter, and of this
the ornament " Gems-hart " is made. Each hair is
tipped with white ; so that when a number of exactly
the same length are bound together and spread out like
a fan, a white line is seen to border the black surface,
and presents a pretty appearance. The longer the hair
the more it is esteemed for this purpose. The eye of the
animal is large, dark, and intelligent ;it is full of anima-
tion ; but this, in its expression of keen watchfulness, is
the animation of fear. It carries its head erect, and its
graceful ears pointed as if prepared against surprise.
The horns, which are black rise from the head just above
and between the eyes ; they are round and rougher at
the base, but incline somewhat to flatness towards the
top, which is smooth and polished. They do not stand
up perpendicularly, but slant• forward at right angles to
the forehead ; their points, which are very sharp, being
bent back and downwards. This feature is not peculiar
to the buck alone ; there is, however, considerable dif-
ference between the horns f the male and female, which
often assists the sportsman in distinguishing the two.
The horns of the male chamois are thicker and alto-
gether stronger looking than those of the female ;
and instead of diverging from each other in so straight
a line as hers generally do, their outline describes a
a slight curve as they rise upwards and apart from each
other. But a still more striking characteristic of the
buck is, that the points of his horns are bent much more
inwards than those of the doe, hers from a semicircular
curvature towards the back, while his, turning over
abruptly, form rather a hook. This gives the head quite
another expression ; it has something more resolute
about it, as well as a dashing air and a look of bravado.
The horns of a very good buck will be seven inches high,
but I have seen some that much exceed this measure-
ment. The head of the chamois is admirably constructed
for uniting strength with the greatest possible lightness.
The frontal bones are extremely thin, so much so, in-
deed, that they would of themselves be liable to fracture
on the slightest casualty. But to make them strong,
and at the same time retain their lightness, a second set
is thrown over the first, and the space between is divided
into cells formed by the arched girders of solid bone,
which uphold
Nattheurehas here ad
roof, andbinodptbeor
is exemplified in
together. The
system which
the cells in the upper and lower parts of the tube that
forms the Britannia Bridge. There is perhaps no animal
so peaceful, and at the same time so timid, as the cha-
mois. Nature, therefore, besides endowing it with a
facility of climbing into the most inaccessible places, and
thus avoiding pursuit, has enabled it to guard against
the approach of danger by the great acuteness of its
senses of sight, smell, and hearing. It is this that
makes it so very difficult to get near them. A
rolling stone, or a spoken word, at once at-
tracts their attention ; .and they will look and listen to
discover whence the sound has come that breaks the
silence of their mountain solitude. For an incredible
time they'will then stand gazing fixedly in one direction,
quite immovable, and if it happen to be towards some-
thing in your neighbourhood that their attention has
. been attracted. you must lie still indeed to escape their
observation. The eyes of the whole flock will be fixed
on the spot in one long steady stare ; and as you watch
them from afar, they almost look like fragments °frock,
so motionless are they while they gaze. You begin to
hope that they have found no cause for alarm, when,
`Phew!' the sharp whistle tells they have fathomed the
mystery, and away they move to the rocks overhead.
Unless panic-stricken, they stop from time to time to
look behind; and then uttering the peculiar shrill sound,
again move on A chamois, when dashing

down the mountain will suddenly stop, as if struck by a
thunderbolt, some yards from the spot where recent
human foot-prints are to be found in the snow, and
turning, scared away, rush off immediately in an opposite
direction. The taint which the presence of the hunter
has left behind is perceived by it long after he has
passed. The agility of the chamois has become almost
proverbial ; but to have any idea of what it is, one must
be an eye-witness of the bounds they make, and see the
places they will race down at full speed when pursued.
A smooth surface of rock, so smooth that a footing there
seems impossible, and of nearly perpendicular steep-
ness, is no obstacle to their flight. Down they go, now
bounding, now gliding, with a velocity which seems to
insure their being inevitably dashed to pieces. The chief
strength of the animal is in its hind legs, which, if ex-
tended, would be longer than the others. On this account
it springs upwards with more ease than it descends the
mountain and on level ground ground its walk
is clumsy and ungraceful. It is not made to run, but
bounds along over the ground. The hoof is cloven, long,
and pointed, and the slot of the chamois resembles that
of the sheep. The edges are sharp, which causes it to
slip easily on the ice, and on this account it rather avoids
passing the glaciers. When standing, the hind legs are
always bent, as if the animal were preparing to lie down,
which no doubt helps considerably to break the fall when
leaping from a great height. Notwithstanding this,
croup is still somewhat higher than the fore part of the
body. The elastic' force with the hind legs is immense.
With a sudden bound the chamois will leap up against
the face of a perpendicular rock, and, merely touching
it with its hoots, rebound again in an opposite direction
to some higher crag, and thus escape from a spot where,
without wings, egress seemed impossible. When reaching
.upwards on its hind legs, the fore hoofs resting on some
higher spot, it is able to stretch to a considerable dis-
tance, and with a quick spring will bring up its hind
quarters to a level with the rest of the body, and with
all four hoofs dose together stand poised on a point of
rock not broader than your hand. On narrow over-
hanging ledges some thousand feet high they walk and
gaze about enjoying the security from pursuit which such
spots afford."

Mr. Boner has received much valuable informa-
tion from his friend, Count Arco, who is a first-rate
authority in all that relates to the chase. " His
collection of (at Munich) antlers, of the red deer,
and the roebuck, with a fair number of the horns
of the chamois, is perhaps the finest in the world.
Never were antlers of such magnificent size and
strange formation collected together. 30,0001.
has been offered and refused." The chamois
possesses a fascination over the hunter as
powerful as the serpent over a bird—he can-
not resist the influence. Count Arco's de-
scription of a feat he once performed when in pur-
suit of a wounded chamois is one of the most daring
ever attempted. He had wounded a chamois, and,
as is usual with those animals, it had climbed up-
wards, and at length gone along a narrow ledge of.
rock jutting out from the perpendicular side of the
mountain, some 3,000 feet above its base, and hiv-
ing advanced about 200 yards, reached a spot where
a few shrubs were growing, and laid down and died.
From an opposite mountain
,the Count could see
him, and being determined to possess the prize, in
spite of the remonstrances of his companions he
ventured on the ledge, accompanied by a forester
and a woodcutter. He describes the ledge as being
at its widest parts not more than 17 inches, and in
some parts only 7 inches, with an almost perpendi-
cular rock on one hand and a precipice on the
other, so that to advance at all he was obliged to
face the rock and move on side-ways. When ,he
had proceeded about half-way, suddenly he came
to a cleft in the pathway of about 5 feet. It
was too wide to step and impossible to jump,
so they had to return and cut down a small tree,
and drag it after them to form a bridge. In re-
turning, the Count says that he felt for the only
time in his life a feeling of fear and nervousness
come over him ; it was not giddiness, but fear in
contemplating the difficulties before him, and he
drained his spirit flask, and sat down with his legs
hanging over the ledge for a quarter of an hour to
recover himself. A curious anecdote is related of
an idiot who wanders about the Bavarian moun-
tains.. -He has been up the peaks of almost all the
mountains in Bavaria. The Zug Spitz, the ascent
of which is very difficult, and has only been aocom.

plished a few years ago, is little less than 11,000
feet high. He one day returned to his home, and
said that he had been up the Zip, Spitz. Every-
body laughed a", hith ; fuis hurt his feelings very
much. He said nothing, but set off again, was
absent several days, came home and told the people
that he had been up the Zug Spitz again, and if
they looked they would see a pole at the top. No
one believed the tale now more than before, but, on
looking with their glasses, there, sure enough, was
the pole stuck on the highest point. Thus he not
only found his way up the mountain, but bare-
footed and without any food, dragged a small
tree up after him. He after this exploit ascended
the Spitz Berg, being the only person that ever
succeeded in the attempt. We find also some
amusing extracts from old books of Venery, in
which the most marvellous powers are attributed to
the stag and other animals of the chase; amongst
other wonders the stag is supposed to live 100
years, to eat serpents when ill and old, to have a
bone in its heart, &c. The work is embellished
with several engravings by Horsehelt, which are
beautifully executed, representing various scenes
in the mountains, and the reader, on closing the
volume, will lay it aside for re-perusal.

The Book of the Garden,. By Charles Mclntosh,
F. R. P. S•, F. R. S. S. A. In 2 volumes. Vol. 1.
Blackwood.
This is the first volume of one of the most com-
plete and extensive works 'on this subject that has
appeared. It is not a botanical treatise, but is de-
voted to a practical consideration of the formation
and arrangement of fruit gardens—the walls, hot-
houses, pits, frames, &c. The different styles
of flower-gardens, also, engage the author's atten-
tion. The directions given are likely to prove
eminently useful, especially as they are the work
of an undoubted authority. Mr. Mclntosh being
a member of three horticultural societies—the
London, the Caledonian, and the Massachusetts,
and late curator of the Royal Gardens of the King
of the Belgians. The utmost exactness is observed
in the , treating of the different subjects, and one
chapter is entirely devoted to " practical dia-
grams explanatory of the rules for laying out
gardens." This first volume is entitled structural,
and relates to first principles, such as the manner
of laying out the grounds, the building of the
walls, the heating of the hothouses, and the details
of the construction of different edifices. So tho-
roughly has the subject been treated that it con-
tains 776 pages and 1,073 illustrations, many of
them plates of a large size. It has been publishing
for some time in five shilling parts. We presume
the second, which is now in course of publication,
will contain instructions to the uninitiated relating
to the management and preservation of the garden
when it is at length arranged, laid out, and the
style of the flower-garden fixed upon, which would
not be an easy task, from the variety and elegance
of the specimens appended. The following account
of the different national styles is interesting :
"During the dark ages, gardening, like all other arts,
languished ; but upon the revival of learning, the inven-
tion of printing, and the Reformation, commerce began
to flourish and peace to prevail ; and Italy shared, to a
certain extent, in those blessings. The family of the
Medici revived and patronised the art of gardening in,
Italy ; and their gardens, which were of the geometric
and architectural styles, long served as models for most
of Europe, and continued to be imitated in France,
Germany, and Britain, until the introduction of the
English, or, as it has been called, the natural style—the
conception of Bridgman, Kent, Wright, Browne, Emes,
Price, Knight, and Repton, aided by the pens of Addi-
son, Pope, Shenstone, George Mason, Whateley, Gray,
and Mason, the poet.
' Garden architecture, so far as hothouses are con-
cerned, has made little progress in the south of Europe,
because the climate is naturally sufficiently warm to
render them all but useless. There are, however, in-
stances of planthouses both in Spain and Portugal, as at
Madrid, Coimbra, and Montserrat. These countries
are, at the same time, not deficient in architectural gar-
dens, having, it is presumed, on the authority of Jacob,
still the remains of Moorish gardens existing. Other
travellers inform us that the walks of their gardens are
paved with marble, bordered with parterres planted
with evergreens, and shaded with orange trees ; and,
however strange it may appear to us, they have con-
trivances under these walks by which they can force up
jets of water between the joints of the pavement; and
as Sir John Carr remarks, they take much pleasure in
directing the water of these reversed showers against
ladies.' Fountains, alcoves, terraces, statues, trellis-
work, temples, grottoes, covered seats, and bowers are
the principal features f Spanish and Portuguese gar-
dens. The Dutch and French styles of gardening very
much resemble each other, the characteristics of both
being symmetry and abundance of ornament. The gar-
dens of the former are more confined, crowded with
frivolous and often ridiculous embellishments, and almost
invariably intersected with canals of still and frequently
muddy waters. So partial are these people to water
even to this day, that however limited the space it must
have its place. The humidity of the climate being fa-
vourable to the growth of green award, we see there
grassy walks, terraces, and slopes ; and these, with their
straight canals, may be said to form the really distinctive
character of their grounds. The French style may be
said to have arisen about the middle of the seventeenth
century, during the luxurious reign of Louis XIV. In
this reign the arts in France flourished, and that of gar-
dening received a fresh impulse by his munificence and
the talent of Le Notre, the most celebrated gardener of
his time in Europe. Le Notre's style rapidly spread in
all improving countries. The celebrated gardens of Ver-
sailles constituted his grandest effort. Landscape gar-
dening, and the adoption of the English or natural style,
were, soon after their establishment with us, introduced
into Germany ; and, whether from a greater amount of
baronial wealth, the spirit of enterprise, or the love of
imitation, it is certain that greater progress has been
made in the art in that country than in any other on the
Continent.

In Russia, although the climate is adverse, many of
the nobles are rich, and they as well as the Emperor
have most extensive hothouses and gardens. The intro-
duction of a taste for either cannot be carried back be-
yond the time of Peter the Great. Within that period
all the styles of garden already noticed have been in vogue ;
at present, the English style introduced by the celebrated
Empress Catherine about 1768, is the most popular."
It will be seen thatthe authorpossesses a thorough
knowledge of his subject, and he has succeeded in
presenting a most compendious and instructive
volume to the practical gardener.

The Modern Housewife or Aienagere. By Alexis

Soyer.
Alexis Soyer is not only one of the notabilities of
the present day—one of those whose names are
" familiar in our mouths as household words," but
a substantial benefactor of the community in his
generation. Not restricting the refinements of the
cuisine to the epicure and the man of wealth, his
gastronomical doctrine is eminently popular, and
numberless are the grateful disciples, of his art
among the intelligent middle classes of the British
empire. The " Modern Housewife," recently pub-
lished by Messrs. Simpkin and Marshall, is a volume
of exceeding practical utility. It comprises nearly
one thousand receipts for the economic and judici-
ous preparation of every meal of the day, and those
for the nursery and sick-room ; with minute direc-
tions for family management in all its branches.
Considerable improvements and additions have
been introduced into this edition, and there can be
little doubt but that its sale will be commensurate'
with its merits. From M. Soyer's pages may be
learned the practicability of combining culinary
economy and excellence, and hence they deserve to
be adopted as a vade mecum by all families desirous
of domestic comfort and regularity. Some useful
hints upon carving poultry, and " Soyer's Chari-
table Cookery," first published in 1847, during the
author's mission to Ireland, are added to the volume,
which is illustrated with numerous engravings, one
of which, illustrative of a letter on the physiology of
tarts, pies, and pie-crust, presents two striking por-
traits—one " of an apple-pie as it ought to be,
taken from still life"—the other, " of an apple-pie
in a fit, as they often are, taken from real life."
Deploring the present barbarism of the pie
manufacture, the mditer of the epistle impresses
the necessity of amelioration, in a process,
so universally, but so inartistically practised.
" Believe me, says Hortense, "believe me, I am
not jesting, but if all the spoiled pies made for the
dinner of one single Sunday in London were to be
exhibited in a row, near a railway line, it would
take above one hour, by special train, to pass in re-
view those culinary victims ; therefore see the im-
portance of the subject. If we could only rescue
every year in proper standing half a mile of pies
and pie-crust, I think we should deserve a piece of
plate, or, at least, a piece of one of our disciples'
pies.
Gaze with admiration and horror on these
two family portraits."
It is unnecessary to enter into a detail of the fea-
tures of a book which will find its way into the
hands of everybody, and we shall conclude our brief
notice of this excellent and valuable production of
the Napoleon of Cooks, by transcribing a curious
calculation of the quantity isf food consumed by
an epicure in a period of 60 years. Hear the in-
structive and suggestive observations of the
‘4 Modern Housewife " on this head, and then ac-
knowledge the importance of economy and
atten
tion in the preparations of the viands which
are
necessary to a healthful and comfortable_ existence.
What is life, after all, unless good digestion wait
on appetite
propose shall to take 70 years of the life of an
epicure, beyond which age many of that class of ' bon
vivants' arrive, and even abovef 80, still in the full enjoy-
ment of degustation, &c.
,sz( or example, Talleyrand,
epicures, when entering Cambac4res, Lord Sefton,°il
been thee
placed
if the first of the said
spring of
his ex
traordinary career, har:d
say, the top of Primrose-bill, and
dahcead ondaenxhienubited be-
fore his infantine eyes the enormous quantity of food his
then insignificant person would destroy before he attained
his 71st year—first, he would believe it must be a delu-
sion; then, secondly, he would inquire where the money
could como froll2 to purchase so much luxurious extra'

' vagance ? But here I shall leave the pecuniary expenses
on one side, which a man of wealth can easily surmount
when required. So now, dearest, for the extraordinary
fact ; imagine on the top of the above-mentioned hill a
rushlight of a boy just entering his tenth year, sur-
rounded with the recherche provisions and delicacies
claimed by his rank and wealth, taking merely the
medium consumption of his daily meals. By closely
calculating, he would be surrounded and gazed at by
the following number of quadrupeds, birds, fishes, &c. :
—By no less than 30 oxen, 200 sheep, 100 calves, 200
lambs, 50 pigs ; in poultry, 1,200 fowls, 300 turkeys,
150 geese, 400 ducklings, 263 pigeons ; 1,400 part-
ridges, pheasants, and grouse ; 600 woodcocks and
snipes; 600 wild ducks, widgeon, and teal; 450 plovers,
ruffes, and reeves ; 800 quails, ortolans, and doterrels,
and a few guillemots and other foreign birds ; also 500
hares, and rabbits, 40. deer, 120 Guinea fowl, 10 pea-
cocks, and 360 wild fowl. In the way of fish, 120
turbot, 140 salmon. 120 cod, 260 trout, 400 mackerel,
300 whitings, 800 soles and slips, 400 flounders,
400 red mullet, 200 eels, 500 haddocks, 400 herrings,
5,000 smelts, and some hundred thousand of those deli-
cious silvery whitebait, besides a few hundred species of
fresh-water fishes. In shell fish, 20 turtle, 30,000 oys-
ters, 1,500 lobsters or crabs, 300,000 prawns, shrimps,
sardines, and anchovies. In the way of fruit, about 8601bs.
of pine-apples and grapes, 600 peaches, 1,400 apricots,
240 melons, some hundred thousand plums, greengages,
apples, pears, and some millions of cherries, strawberries,
raspberries, currants, mulberries, and an abundance of
other small fruit, viz., walnuts, chesnuts, dry figs, and
plums. In vegetables of all kinds, 5,475 lbs. weight,
and about 2,434 lbs. of butter, 684 lbs. of cheese, 21,000
eggs, 800 ditto plovers. Of bread; 41 tons, half a ton
of salt and pepper, near,2l tons of sugar ; and, if he had
happened to be a covetous boy, he could have formed a
fortification or moat round the said hill with the liquids
he would have to partake of to facilitate the digestion of
the above-named provisions, which would amount to no
less than 10,5161 gallons, which may be taken as be.
low:-49 hogsheads of wine, 1,368 f gallons of beer
584 gallons of spirits, 342 liqueurs, 2,3941 gal
lons of [coffee, cocoa, tea, &c., and 304 gallons of
milk, 2,736 gallons of water ; all of which would actually
protect him and his anticipated property from any young
thief or fellow-schoolboy, like Alexander Dumas had
protected Dante and his immense treasure from the pi-
rates in his island of Monte Christo. You, now,Cdearest,
fancy that I am exaggerating in every way ; but to con-
vince you, and to prevent you puzzling your brain to no
purpose, I also enclose you a medium scale of the re-
gular meals of the day, from which I have taken my
basis, and in 60 years it amounts to no less than 59
tons, 5 cwts., 1 quarter 201 lbs. weight of meat, fari-
naceous food, vegetables,' liquids, &c. • out of which I
have named in detail the probable' delicacies that
would be selected by an epicure through life. But
observe that I did not count the first 10 years of his
life, at the beginning of which he lived upon pap,
bread and milk, &c., also a little meat, the expense of
which I add to the age from 10 to 20, as no one can
really be called an epicure before that age - it will thus
make the expenses more equal as regards the calculation.
The following is the list of what I consider his daily
meals : _ _ _

•` Breakfast. —Three quarters of a pint of coffee, four
ounces of bread, one ounce of butter, two eggs, or four
ounces of meat, or four ounces of fish.
" Lunch.—Two ounces of bread, two ounces of meat
or poultry, or game, two ounces of vegetables, and half
a pint of beer or a glass of wine.
" Dinner.—Half a pint of soup, a quarter of a pound
of fish, half a pound of meat, a quarter of a pound of
poultry, a quarter of a pound of savoury dishes or game,
two ounces of vegetables, two ounces of bread, two
ounces of pastry or roasts, half an ounce of cheese, a
quarter of a pound of fruit, one pint of wine, one glass
of liqueur, one cup of coffee or telt ; at night one glass of
spirits and water.

" Now that I have given you these important details,
perhaps you will give me some little credit for my exac-
tion and severity respecting the attention which ought
to be daily paid to the indispensable and useful art of
cookery by our middle classes. I shall also observe to
you, that those masses of provisions above described in
the expose of 60 years, have been selected, dressed, and
served, by scientific hands, every real epicure choosing
through life the best cook, and consequently the best of
provisions, which, had they have fallen into the hands
of inexperienced persons, would very likely have wasted
one-third, thereby increasing the expenses, and never
giving any real satisfaction to the consumer ; therefore,
let us act in a small way as becomes us, as the wealthy
do according to their incomes ; let every housekeeper
devote more time to the study of domestic and practical
economy ; and in many instances it will increase their
incomes as well as their daily comforts, for, as I re-
marked to you that the pleasures of the table being not
only the most expensive part of human luxury, but also
the soul of sociability, they require more attention be -
stowed upon them than is done at the present day."

Glees and Madrigals. Printed for the Society,
and sold by Ewer and Co. Leader and Co.,
and other booksellers.
" Glees and Madrigals," sung by the Concordia
Society, are lying before us, and remind us of the
pleasure we have derived from the able perform-
ance of the same at the Society's rooms.
We happen to be among those who appreciate
and love the quaint compositions, in word and
note, of such writers as Herrick, Carew, Lovelace,
Shenstone, and Sir J. Suckling ; and such musicians
as Mornington, Horsley, Callcott, Webbe, and.
Wilbye, with a host of others of similar genius and.
feeling. The choral of these exquisite strains must
ever afford a pure delight to 'all who have a soul
attuned to Nature's key note ; and, for our own
part, we would rather listen to the harmony of
" When the wind blows," " How sweet in the
woodlands," or " Come with me, and be my love,"
than be doomed to sit out a " modern opera."
There is something in the rhymes to these old-
fashioned melodies, we suspect, which materially
helps the charm. Who will not admire the follow
ing simple and pretty conceit ?
" In going to nay lonely bed,
As ono that would have slept,
•
I heard a wife sing to her child,
That long had mourned ma wept.
She sighed sore, and sang full sweet,
To lull the babe to rest ;
That would not cease, but cried the more,
Upon its mother's breast.
She was full weary of her watch,
And grieved with her child ;
She rocked it, and rated it,
Till that on her it smiled.
Then did she say, Now have I found
This proverb true to prove,
The falling out of faithful friends
Renewing is of love."
Then let any one hearken to these words with
Horsley's beautiful music wedded to them, and
many of our every-day " ballad-mongers" will lose
by the comparison, we fear.
" When the wind blows in the sweet rose-tree,
And the cow lows on the fragrant lea,
And the stream flows all bright and free,
'Tis not for thee, 'tis not for me,
'Tis not for any one here I trow
The gentle wind bloweth,
Tho happy cow loweth,
The merry stream floweth,
For all below.
Oh ! the Spring, the bountiful Spring,
She shineth and smileth on everything."
We warmly congratulate the Concordia Society on
the patronage it deserves and appears to meet
with.

Newton's London Journal.
This useful repertory contains its usual account
of recent patents &c., and all other mechanical and
scientific intelligence.