Bring them forth :-'tis heaven's decree; Man, assert thy dignity; Let not brutes look down on thee. Either India next is seen, With the Ganges stretch'd between; War, disguised as commerce, came; By the gulph of Persia sail, St. Helena's dungeon-keep Who he was, and how he fell, On that theme all times shall dwell. But, henceforth, till nature dies, Mammon's plague-ships throng the waves; Not for all the gems and gold, Which thy streams and mountains hold, Land of negroes! would I dare Where at Cato's word of fate, Mark the dens of caitiff Moors; Egypt's hieroglyphic realm, Judah's cities are forlorn, And a wind is on the wing, Yet where Roman genius reigns, At the fire-flash of thine eye, Great thou wast, and who like thee? Sweep by Holland, like the blast; Elbe nor Weser tempt my stay; Now to thee, to thee I fly, I have seen them, one by one, While I bid them all be blest; The Amulet. PORTRAIT OF LORD BYRON. LORD BYRON's face was handsome; eminently so in some respects. He had a mouth and chin fit for Apollo; and when I first knew him, there were both lightness and energy all over his aspect. But his countenance did not improve with age, and there were always some defects in it. The jaw was too big for the upper part. It had all the wilfulness of a despot in it. The animal predominated over the intellectual part of his head, inasmuch as the face altogether was large in proportion to the skull. The eyes also were set too near one another; and the nose, though handsome in itself, had the appearance, when you saw it closely in front, of being grafted on the face, rather than growing properly out of it. His person was very handsome, though terminating in lameness, and tending to fat and effeminacy; which makes me remember what a hostile fair one objected to him, namely, that he had little beard; a fault which, on the other hand, was thought by another lady, not hostile, to add to the divinity of his aspect, imberbis Apollo. His lameness was only in one foot, the left; and it was so little visible to casual notice, that as he lounged about a room (which he did in such a manner as to screen it) it was hardly perceivable. But it was a real and even a sore lameness. Much walking upon it fevered and hurt it. It was a shrunken foot, a little twisted. This defect unquestionably mortified him exceedingly, and helped to put sarcasm and misanthropy into his taste of life. Unfortunately, the usual thoughtlessness of schoolboys made him feel it bitterly at Harrow. He would wake, and find his leg in a tub of water. The reader will sce (hereafter) how he felt it, whenever it was libelled; and in Italy, the only time I ever knew it mentioned, he did not like the subject, and hastened to change it. His handsome person so far rendered the misfortune greater, as it pictured to him all the occasions on which he might have figured in the eyes of company; and doubtless this was a great reason, why he had no better address. On the other hand, instead of losing him any real regard or admiration, his lameness gave a touching character to both. He had a delicate white hand, of which he was proud; and he attracted attention to it, by rings. He thought a hand of this description almost the only mark remaining now-a-days of a gentleman; of which it certainly is not, nor of a lady either; though a coarse one implies handiwork. He often appeared holding a handkerchief, upon which his jewelled fingers lay embedded, as in a picture. He was as fond of fine linen, as a Quaker; and had the remnant of his hair oiled and trimmed with all the anxiety of a Sardanapalus. The visible character to which this effeminacy gave rise, appears to have indicated itself as early as his travels in the Levant, where the Grand Signior is said to have taken him for a woman in disguise. But he had tastes of a more masculine description. He was fond of swimming to the last, and used to push out to a good distance in the gulph of Genoa. He was also a good horseman; and he liked to have a great dog or two about him, which is not a habit observable in timid men. Yet I doubt greatly whether he was a man of courage. I suspect, that personal anxiety, coming upon a constitution unwisely treated, had no small hand in hastening his death in Greece. The story of his bold behaviour at sea in a voyage to Sicily, and of Mr. Shelley's timidity, is just reversing what I conceive would have been the real state of the matter, had the voyage taken place. The account is an impudent fiction. Nevertheless, he volunteered voyages by sea, when he might have eschewed them: and yet the same man never got into a coach without being afraid. In short, he was the contradiction his father and mother had made him. To lump together some more of his personal habits, in the style of old Aubrey, he spelt affectedly, swore somewhat, had the Northumbrian burr in his speech, did not like to see women eat, and would merrily say that he had another reason for not liking to dine with them; which was, that they always had the wings of the chicken.-Lord Byron and some of his Contemporaries. Arcana of Science. Climate. In many natural operations, the conversion of water into vapour, and the condensation of vapour, in the form of dew and rain, is a process of the utmost importance, and tends to the equalization of temperature over the globe. The vapour from the earth's surface having been carried into the higher regions of the air, becomes condensed in the form of snow on the mountain tops, and other portions of vapour again descend in the form of rain and dew, to give fertility to the soil, and equalization to the temperature of the earth.-Brande's Lectures. Cotton Rope. An American paper states, that an individual, of Rhode Island, has recently received a premium, at the Exhibition of Manufactures in that State, for making cotton cord lines. It is stated, that they out-last the hempen lines employed for the same purpose. The inventor thinks that cotton cables would be more durable than hempen, being much finer, and many thousands twined together would be stronger; and there being no tar in the cotton, and the weight only half for the same strength of rope it can evidently be afforded cheaper. The Ostrich. In some of our books of natural history it is stated, that the heart and lungs of this bird are separated by a diaphragm ; but Mr. Brookes, in a recent lecture at the Zoological Society, on the ostrich which was lately dissected there, stated, that the thorax and abdomen were not separated by a diaphragm; and the drawing which he exhibited of the bird confirmed his statement. He also stated, as a remarkable fact, that the intestinal canal of the ostrich was generally about eighty feet in length, while that of the Cassowary was considerably shorter. The rings in the trachea of this bird exceed two hundred in number; its height was more than nine feet. This bird was a female, which had been in the possession of his Majesty for about two years; it died of obesity, and, from its appearance, its weight must have been, it is presumed, more than one hundred and fifty pounds. Many gentlemen partook of the flesh. It has two stomachs; the first is muscular, and appears to act by trituration; in the other, there is a gastric liquor.-Jennings's Ornithologia. Fossil Plants A discovery has recently been made, near Scarborough, in Grysthorp Bay, of a large deposit of fossil plants, of the coal formation, presenting many varieties hitherto undescribed, and differing essentially from those of the Newcastle field. They occur in slate clay, alternating with clay, iron, stone, and a thin seam of coal, about half-way below the highwater mark, and are principally stems and leafy impressions of tropical ferns, some finely permeated, and nearly resembling the indigenous species of polypodium; others, again, the asplenium, and have occasionally been found in distinct fructifications. Another species, apparently one of the gramina, is scarcely fossilized, retaining, when separated in small fragments from its stony bed, considerable elasticity and combustibility. Several of the specimens of the frondescent ferns are of large size, and uncommon beauty. Vining. Mules employed at the amalgamating mines in Mexico, are opened after death, and from two to seven pounds of silver are often taken out of their stomachs. A writer in Silliman's Journal says he is in possession of a specimen, which is perfectly pure and white. The Novelist. THE WONDERFUL TUNE. Maurice Connor was the king, and that's no small word, of all the pipers in Munster. He could play jig and planxty without end, and Ollistrum's March, and the Eagle's Whistle, and the Hen's Concert, and odd tunes of every sort and kind. But he knew one, far more surprising than the rest, which had in it the power to set everything, dead or alive, dancing. In what way he learned it is beyond my knowledge, for he was mighty cautious about telling how he came by so wonderful a tune. At the very first note of that tune, the brogues began shaking upon the feet of all who heard it-old or young, it mattered not just as if their brogues had the ague; then the feet began going-going-going from under them, and at last up and away with them, dancing like mad !—whisking here, there, and everywhere, like a straw in a storm there was no halting while the music lasted! Not a fair, nor a wedding, nor a patron in the seven parishes round, was counted worth the speaking of without “blind Maurice and his pipes." His mother, poor woman, used to lead him about from one place to another, just like a dog. Down through Iveragh-a place that ought to be proud of itself, for 'tis Daniel O'Connel's country - Maurice Connor and his mother were taking their rounds. Beyond all other places Iveragh is the place for stormy coast and steep mountains as proper a spot it is as any in Ireland to get yourself drowned, or your neck broken on the land, should you prefer that. But, notwithstanding, in Ballinskellig Bay there is a neat bit of ground, well fitted for diversion, and down from it, towards the water, is a clean, smooth piece of strand-the dead image of a calm summer's sea on a moonlight night, with just the curl of the small waves upon it. Here it was that Maurice's music had brought from all parts a great gathering of the young men and the young women -O the darlints!-for 'twas not every day the strand of Trafraska was stirred up by the voice of a bagpipe. The dance began; and as pretty a rinkafadda it was as ever was danced. "Brave music," said everybody, "and well done," when Maurice stopped. "More power to your elbow, Maurice, and a fair wind in the bellows," cried Paddy Dorman, a hump-backed dancingmaster, who was there to keep order " "Tis a pity," said he, "if we'd let the piper run dry after such music; 'twould be a disgrace to Iveragh, that didn't come on it since the week of the three Sundays." So, as well became him, for he was always a decent man, says he: "Did you drink, piper ?" "I will, sir," says Maurice, answering the question on the safe side, for you never yet knew piper or schoolmaster who refused his drink. "What will you drink, Maurice ?" says Paddy. "I'm no ways particular," says Maurice; I drink anything, and give God thanks, barring raw water: but if 'tis all the same to you, mister Dorman, may be you wouldn't lend me the loan of a glass of whiskey." "I've no glass, Maurice," said Paddy; "I've only the bottle." "Let that be no hindrance," answered Maurice; "my mouth just holds a glass to the drop; often I've tried it, sure." So Paddy Dorman trusted him with the bottle-more fool was he; and, to his cost, he found that though Maurice's mouth might not hold more than the glass at one time, yet, owing to the hole In his throat, it took many a filling. "That was no bad whiskey, neither," says Maurice, handing back the empty bottle. "By the holy frost, then!" says Paddy, 'tis but could comfort there's in that bottle now; and 'tis your word we must take for the strength of the whiskey, for you've left us no sample to judge by :" and to be sure Maurice had not. Now I need not tell any gentleman or lady with common understanding, that if he or she was to drink an honest bottle of whiskey at one pull, it is not at all the same thing as drinking a bottle of water; and in the whole course of my life, I never knew more than five men who could do so without being overtaken by the liquor. Of these Maurice Connor was not one, though he had a stiff head enough of his own-he was fairly tipsy. Don't think I blame him for it; 'tis often a good man's case; but true is the word that says, "when liquor's in sense is out;" and puff, at a breath, before you could say "Lord, save us!" out he lasted his wonderful tune. J "Twas really then beyond all belief or telling the dancing. Maurice himself could not keep quiet; staggering now on one leg, now on the other, and rolling about like a ship in a cross sea, trying to humour the tune. There was his mother too, moving her old bones as light as the youngest girl of them all; but her dancing, no, nor the dancing of all the rest, is not worthy the speaking about to the work that was going on down upon the The big seals in motion, Or gouty feet prancing, 'Twas wonderful, really! Their flight up to heaven. This dance to be put in: But soles kept their footing. All number out-number'd ; The shore was encumber'd. With laughter were splitting. In the height of all these doings, what should there be dancing among the outlandish set of fishes but a beautiful young Her woman-as beautiful as the dawn of day! She had a cocked-hat upon her head; from under it her long green hair-just the colour of the sea-fell down behind, without hindrance to her dancing. teeth were like rows of pearl; her lips for all the world looked like red coral; and she had an elegant gown, as white as the foam of the wave, with little rows of purple and red sea-weeds settled out upon it; for you never yet saw a lady, under the water or over the water, who had not a good notion of dressing herself out. Up she danced at last to Maurice, who was flinging his feet from under him as fast as hops-for nothing in this world could keep still while that tune of his was going on and says she to him, chanting it out with a voice as sweet as honey "I'm a lady of honour Who live in the sea; When you're married to me.' Drink was strong in Maurice's head, and out he chanted in return for her great civility. It is not every lady, may be, that would be after making such an offer to a blind pipe:; therefore 'twas only right in him to give her as good as she gave herself so says Maurice, "I'm obliged to you, maɑam : could dine in great state. I'd be sure to agree; The lady looked at him quite amazed, and swinging her head from side to side like a great scholar, "Well," says she, "Maurice, if you're not a poet, where is poetry to be found?" In this way they kept on at it, framing high compliments; one answering the other, and their feet going with the music as fast as their tongues. All the fish kept dancing too: Maurice heard the clatter and was afraid to stop playing lest it might be displeasing to the fish, and not knowing what so many of them may take it into their heads to do to him if they got vexed. Well, the lady with the green hair kept on coaxing of Maurice with soft speeches, till at last she overpersuaded him to promise to marry her, and be king over the fishes great and small. Maurice was well fitted to be their king, if they wanted one that could make them dance; and he surely would drink, barring the salt water, with any fish of them all. When Maurice's mother saw him, with that unnatural thing in the form of a green-haired lady as his guide, and he and she dancing down together so lovingly to the water's edge, through the thick of the fishes, she called out after him to stop and come back. 66 Oh, then," says she, "as if I was not widow enough before, there he is going away from me to be married to that scaly woman. And who knows but 'tis grandmother I may be to a hake or a cod--Lord help and pity me, but 'tis a mighty unnatural thing!—and may be 'tis boiling and eating my own grandchild I'll be, with a bit of salt butter, and I not knowing it!-Oh, Maurice, Maurice, if there's any love or nature left in you, come back to your own ould mother, who reared you like a decent christian ! Then the poor woman began to cry and ullagoane so finely that it would do any one good to hear her. Maurice was not long getting to the rim of the water; there he kept playing and dancing on as if nothing was the coming in towards him ready to swallow matter, and a great thundering wav him up alive; but as he could not see it, he did not fear it. His mother it was who saw it plainly through the big tears that were rolling down her cheeks; and though she saw it, and her heart was aching as much as ever mother's heart ached for a son, she kept dancing, dancing, all the time for the bare life of her. Certain it was she could not help it, for Maurice never stopped playing that wonderful tune of his. He only turned the bothered ear to the sound of his mother's voice, fearing it might put him out in his steps, and all the answer he made back was "Whisht with you, mother-sure I'm going to be king over the fishes down in the sea, and for a token of luck, and a sign that I'm alive and well, I'll send you in, every twelvemonth on this day, a piece of burned wood to Trafraska." Maurice had not the power to say a word more, for the strange lady with the green hair seeing the wave just upon them, covered him up with herself in a thing like a cloak with a big hood to it, and the wave curling over twice as high as their heads, burst upon the strand, with a rush and a roar that might be heard as far as Cape Clear That day twelvemonth the piece of burned wood came ashore in Trafraska. It was a queer thing for Maurice to think of sending all the way from the bottom |