^fOg^Cflg^^^^ LIBRARY OF THE LV UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, i GIFT OF GEORGE MOREY RICHARDSON. Received, August, 1898. ^Accession No./^ ^ // Class No. fcflrei^JiH!^^ HE [TJNIVEBSITY YOUNG LADY'S BOOK: MANUAL ELEGANT RECREATIONS, EXERCISES, SECOND EDITION. BOSTON: PUBLISHED BY CARTER, HENDEE AND BABCOCK, AND ABEL BOWEN. -f - : BOSTON: BOWEN'S XYLOORAPHIC WATER STREET. CONTENTS. Page THE CABINET COUNCIL 9 L'OUVERTURE ....... 21 MORAL DEPORTMENT ...... 23 THE FLORIST 33 MINERALOGY ....... 61 CONCHOLOGY ......". 85 ENTOMOLOGY ....... 115 THE AVIARY 183 THE TOILET . .279 EMBROIDERY ....... 291 THE ESCRUTOIRE ....... 313 PAINTING ........ 347 Music ......... 365 DANCING 395 ARCHERY 419 RIDING ....... 427 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST .... 459 L'ADIEU . 505 Embellishments. Page Engraved by A. Bow en. 1 . . . . Boiccn. 1 Bowen. 9 L'OUVERTURE . MORAL DEPORTMENT . FRONTISPIECE . . . . A Boudoir . . . ORNAMENTAL TITLE THE CABINET COUNCIL The Announcement , Allegorical Coterie of Contributors .... Bowen. 20 . The Casket Bearers, and Casket opened . Bowen. 21 . Crowning the Rosiere ........ Bowen. 23 Religious Emblems .... ..... Bowen. 32 . The gathered Rose ......... Bowen. 33 Proserpine culling Flowers ...... Bowen. 33 Ophelia ........... A. Hartwcll. 60 . Vanity and Science ....... A. Anderson. 61 Aladdin in the Cave ....... Anderson. 84 CONCHOLOGY ..... The Student's Grotto . . . Hartwell and Bowen. 85 The Naiad ............ Bowen, 114 . The Ant and the Sluggard ....... Bowen. 115 Infant Entomologists ....... Anderson. 182 . A Visit to the Aviary . - ...... Bowen. 183 The Judge casting forth the Dove, which took refuge in his bosom from a Hawk ..... Bowen. 183 Children in the Wood ........ Bowen. 278 . Belinda at her Toilet ....... Hctrtwell. 279 Attiring the Bride ......... Anderson. 279 Eve at the Fountain ....... Anderson. 290 . Feats of Chivalry embroidered by Ladies "in the olden time" ......... Anderson. 291 Minerva and Arachne ..... J. C. Crosman. 312 . Lord Russell's Cabinet; Lady Russell acting as his Secretary ........... Bowen. 313 Persian Girl attaching a symbolical Bouquet to a Pigeon ............ Bowen. 346 PAINTING ...... Mary Beale painting the Portrait of Archbishop Tillotson ........... Bowen, 347 Sir Joshua Reynolds's Macaw attacking a Portrait of a Maid-Servant, to whom the Bird had an antipathy .......... Anderson. 364 MUSIC ........ Music and the Passions ....... Anderson. 365 Mary Queen of Scots and her Secretary . Hartwell. 394 DANCING ....... An Al-fresco Fete .......... Bowen. 395 The Pas-de-deux ..... Bowen and Hartwell. 395 The Bolero ............ Bowen. 407 May-day Festival ......... Anderson. 418 ARCHERY ..-... Old-English Baron, attended by a Dwarf Page, instructing his Daughters in the use of the Bow .......... . . Bowen. Robin Hood and Maid Marian ..... Bowen. Shooting at the Target ....... Anderson. THE FLORIST . MINERALOGY ENTOMOLOGY THE AVIARY THE TOILET EMBROIDERY. THE ESCRUTOIRE Diana and her Nymphs ...... . Bowen RIDING ..... . A Lady on Horseback, with her Falcon . Anderson. Elizabeth haranguing her Troops .... Bowen. Titania on the Horse-fly ....... Bowen. ORNAMENTAL ARTIST . Hon. Anne Seymour Darner in her Studio . Anderson. Birth-day Offerings ......... Bowen. 504 L'ADIEU ...... The Salaam and Regret at Parting .... Bowen. 505 419 419 421 426 427 427 458 459 PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. THE common sense of our day and country, enlightened by the experience of the past, has determined, that woman's happiness as well as her sphere of usefulness will be enlarged, in proportion to her opportunities for cultivating the powers with which nature has endowed her: and the female mind is acknowledged to possess all the faculties, and to be capable of like improvements, with that of man. Hence it is now, and cannot cease to be> fashionable to unite in the course of female studies, all that is practically useful in the sciences with all that is beautiful in the arts. Such are the characteristics of this volume; combining a distinct chart of the useful and ornamental departments of a lady's education. The subjects having been confided to authors who were pro- ficients in their several departments, its contents are the results of patient investigation; and from its entire novelty of character, and difficulty of execution, the book was a long time in preparation. It was neither the offspring of caprice nor of speculation, and its lasting value can only be affected by new discoveries in the course of scientific investigation. Instead of being an Annual flower, to bloom and be forgotten, it aspires to be a PERENNIAL an Evergreen, that shall form a suitable memorial for all seasons and at all times. A desire to make improvement in the arts in this country, perhaps, has had its share of influence in producing this edition of ' The Young Lady's Book.' But aside from this, it is believed PREFACE. the intrinsic value of the work, attested by the high encomiums which have been bestowed on it, by the first literary judges, together with the unprecedented success with which it has been attended in England, are sufficient recommendations to warrant its publication. In reprinting such a work, it could not be expected to equal the original; for it is said, and perhaps truly, of the English copy, that ' a few years ago, all the talents in England could not have pro- duced such a work.' Still, it is hoped, this edition will not be found far inferior, nor be the less acceptable in the United States from having been the work entirely of American Artists, and com- posed of materials almost exclusively of American origin and manufacture. Having superintended this edition and directed the processes necessary to its completion, I may perhaps be allowed to say some- thing of the printing and embellishments. The illustrations, in the English copy, were designed by Harvey, and the engravings exe- cuted on wood by Branston, Wright, Thompson, Williams, and other eminent artists; and the whole work was printed by Messrs. Vizetelly, Branston and Co. in a style of delicacy that will be the means of bringing into notice a novelty in the xylographic art, as connected with the typographic. The embellishments in this edition have been perfected and printed by a method entirely new in this country, and the result of much thought and experiment. It is hardly necessary to add, that great care has been taken to follow the original in every point, so that the copy might be considered a perfect facsimile. The names of die Artists who have been engaged in producing the work will be learned from the list of principal embellishments. ABEL BO WEN. BOSTON, October, 1830. YOUNG LADY'S BOOK. (EoutuU, fe EATED in front of a splendid specimen of the ingenuity of the Chinese, a gilt and richly inlaid table, covered with a variety of beautiful minerals, shells, and articles of virtu, the Editor, after having been duly announced by Prudence, her bower-woman, found his cousin Penelope, on his entrance into Lady Mary's brilliant boudoir. Lady Mary was standing attired for a ride, near her fair kinswoman ; and Aunt Elinor, the very pearl of the ancient sisterhood of spinsters, entered the apartment before the usual greetings were concluded. " Your cousin, young ladies," said Aunt Elinor, " wishes to look round Lady Mary's boudoir again, to see if anything has escaped his notice." This was a very mysterious announcement. Lady Mary, after looking earnestly, first at her aunt, and then at Penelope, as if she were desirous of reading an explanation in their eyes, exclaimed: "Escaped his notice, aunt! I cannot conceive what you mean." 10 THE CABINET COUNCIL. " Why, it would seem, child," was the old lady's reply, " that the arrangement and decorations of your boudoir, have, in some degree, attracted his admiration ; although, for my own part, to speak candidly, and you know I love you equally, Penelope's seems to me by far the more preferable of the two; indeed, with one or two alterations, it might be pronounced perfect." " The fault of Penelope's boudoir," said Lady Mary, " is su- perlative neatness: it looks as prim as herself; casting a glance round it, your first feeling of admiration at its order, is subdued in an instant, by a disagreeable conviction of the pains it must have cost her to drill her little squadrons of embellishments so as to produce such an effect. My dear Pen! you may smile, but you are positively as precise as a mathematician : old Euclid seems to have been school-master to the Graces who preside at your toilet. But, would you believe it! ** added the lively Lady Mary, turning to the Editor, " notwithstanding she dresses in drab, and looks demure, Cousin Penelope, Sir, I can assure you, is as brilliant as possible on a birth-day; for when she does condescend to be splendid, I must confess, that few, if any of us, eclipse her." " Yet allow me to remark," said Penelope, " that the rich and profuse negligence which reigns in your boudoir is the result of thrice the toil that I have employed in decorating mine." " That is true enough, Penelope," said Lady Mary, while a slight blush tinged her cheek; "but the toil you speak of is not apparent. I look upon my boudoir (pardon the comparison) as upon a fine picture, in which those splendid dashes of light, which charm us, those fine touches of brilliant beauty that seem to fall from a mass of foliage to gild the bold edge of a ruin, and finally descend to illumine and ennoble a daisy, appear to have been the work of a moment;" " Or, to help you with a more high-flown simile, Lady Mary," said her cousin, who was now turning over a portfolio of engrav- ings, " they seem to have been produced by the Muse of Painting, at a single dash of her brush newly dipped in the fountain of light!" " And yet," continued Lady Mary, smiling at Penelope" simile, " they are, in fact, produced only by labour, both of the mind and the hand. This apparent carelessness of arrangement has, I admit, cost me considerable pains; but everybody admires the effect, because the art which produced it is concealed. Here, for instance, in this recess, is a beautiful cabinet picture, a charm- ing landscape, partly veiled, but not hidden, by a common, but. THE CABINET COUNCIL. 11 in my opinion, remarkably elegant creeping-plant, which extends far enough round the corner to twine about the carved ebony frame, and festoon the polished surface of an old-fashioned glass, which I prize because it was my grandmamma's: here again, you may perceive it wandering downward, and encircling a fossil; on the other side of the window it has attached its tendrils to a tall and stately exotic, and droops from its topmost flower to garland a Greek vase. Now, although this appears to be all the result of pure accident, Penelope, who is smiling at my comparison, will tell you, 'twas I that did it. And do not imagine, I pray, that everything here is in such a chaotic jumble as to be inconvenient ; there is, in fact, order in its seeming confusion; I have a clue to the labyrinth, and can find a book or a butterfly in my boudoir quite as soon as Miss Penelope can in hers. Candidly speaking, which do you prefer 1 " " To me," replied the Editor, to whom this question was addressed, " they appear to be exquisite specimens of the different styles to which they belong. Like every other boudoir that I have seen (although all bear a faint sort of family resemblance to each other,) each is apparently embellished according to the judgment of its fair owner, of whose taste and habits it might be taken as a symbol." " That is precisely as I think,** remarked Penelope "Then, my dear," replied Lady Mary, "notwithstanding your reputed wisdom, I must respectfully submit, as I am told the lawyers say, when they contradict the court, that you are partially in error. Of a lady'g taste, her boudoir may sometimes, but not always, be a visible criterion. She may possess the taste of one of those select few, on whom Apollo has shaken a dew- drop from his laurel, and yet have as little means of gratifying it as poor Cinderella, before she had a little fairy glass-blower for a shoemaker : she may also be gifted with pure taste in an equal degree, and have a kind Croesus for a relative to allow her an unlimited account at Coutts's, and yet be possessed with a sister sprite to that which nestled in the heart of an Elwes or a Dancer. That a boudoir is not always a proof of the habits of its owner, I positively confess mine to be an instance : those specimens of minerals are very rare and valuable, at least, so says Penelope, but they never struck me as being beautiful, and she knows I am little more acquainted with Mineralogy, than with the grammar of the Moslems. But to waive the question as to the superiority of Penelope's boudoir to mine, or mine to 12 THE CABINET COUNCIL. hers, allow me to ask, why my grave cousin, who sits smiling at our debate, is so anxious that nothing in my pet apartment should escape his notice 1 " " I will endeavour to satisfy you on that point," said the Editor. " About two years ago, while seated in this identical chair, I conceived the idea of producing and publishing a work that should be deemed worthy of the acceptance of every young lady in the kingdom." " I hope you do not intend to inflict another Annual upon us," said Penelope. "By no means," replied the Editor; "so far from following the beautiful, but much-beaten track of my predecessors, it is my intention to offer the present-giving public a PERENNIAL, an evergreen, that will not be merely looked at and laid aside for- ever, but will attract notice and merit attention at all times and at all seasons; not such a mere bouquet of flowers as, however rare or beautiful, seldom tempt their warmest admirers to a second inspection, and which are always dethroned, even if they hold their ephemeral sway for a year, by other blossoms, presented by the same hands, at the return of the book-budding season;" " But," interrupted Aunt Elinor, with more enthusiasm than usually beamed on her placid countenance, " to drop my nephew's flowery metaphors, a volume which, although rich in beautiful embellishments, shall be so useful and instructive, as well as amusing, that it will, in all probability, be as often in the hands of every young lady of sense who possesses it, three or four years hence, as within a month after its publication." " That is exactly my meaning," said the Editor, looking gratefully towards Aunt Elinor; "and I sincerely trust I have been fortunate enough to accomplish so desirable an object." " And pray, cousin," inquired Penelope, " what is the book to contain^" " If you require a view of the contents," replied the Editor, "I have only to say, look around you! Lady Mary's boudoir would form a very good index to the volume, and present a capital epitome of a young lady's best pursuits, exercises, and recreations. Flora has here a number of living representatives ; Gnomes, in bronze, seem to bend beneath the weight of the mine- rals which are placed upon their shoulders ; a sea-maid, with her conch, illumines the apartment when ' Night hath drawn her veil o'er earth and sea ; ' the insect world is represented by groups of Oriental beetles, and splendid butterflies ; the humming-bird is THE CABINET COUNCIL. 13 here, with many other of his fellow-tenants of the air, making all around them look dim by the metallic lustre of their plumage: all these remind me of sciences which are applicable to the study of young ladies ; I have made a f prief of it in my note-book ; ' and introductory papers on Botany, Mineralogy, Conchology, Orni- thology, and Entomology, have been the consequence. 3 ' " Then there is some probability, as, of course, I shall have the work," said Lady Mary, " that ere long I may know some- thing of two sciences, of which, although they are represented in my boudoir, I am now altogether ignorant." " One of them, I know," said Penelope, " is Mineralogy; and I must confess, it surprises me that it should never have attracted your favourable notice. If minerals were only to be seen in mines," she continued, " it would be a different case ; but they have, for years, been mutely pleading to you in their own behalf: they meet your view on all sides; many of them even in a native state. They contribute essentially to our comfort, and add to our splendour: they embellish the lofty domes and high places which are the pride of our country, and passively contribute to its defence : they adorn our parlours and our persons : some of them are almost indispens- able even to the cottager's wife ; while others sit enthroned on the brows of royal beauty, exceeding all beneath ' the Lady Luna and her silvery train ' in brilliancy, and equalling the chaplet with which Flora would bedeck herself, in richness and variety of hue ; and although they possess not the fragrance of the rose-bud, nor the graceful form of the lily, their durability exalts them to a higher value than that of the most lovely flower that basks in the noontide ray, or blooms in the shade. The snowdrop melts away almost as soon as the white mantle that covers its birth-place ; the violet delights our eye in the morning, and is withered by sunset; the queen of flowers endures but for a brief period, and there are few of her subjects hardy enough to bear the scorching glance of a summer sun, and the chill breath of winter: but a diamond endures for ages, and is brilliant and beautiful at all times and in all seasons ; the ruby outlives a thousand generations of roses; and the holly and the laurel are ephemeral, compared with the emerald." Lady Mary was rather surprised at the unusual enthusiasm of Penelope; without, however, waiting to make any remark upon her cousin's poetical style of speaking, she placed her hand upon Penelope's bracelet, and begged to interrupt her oration in favour of the mineral world for a few moments, by offering a short plea 14 THE CABINET COUNCIL. on behalf of the subjects of Flora. " You must, I am sure," said she, " however warmly you may be attached to your pet science, allow, that flowers have one great advantage over minerals : the latter are dead, but flowers live. We can sow their seeds, and watch them breaking through the earth, and rear them into beauty and perfection. We have sympathies in their favour: they languish beneath intense heat, and are chilled by the cold easterly blast; they flourish for a time, and then fade away like ourselves: but the gem dies not: its duration, for ought we know, may reach to the extent of time. Some may admire it for its beauty, and others doat upon or covet it for its value ; but it has never that pure hold on our affections which the flower we nourish possesses. Besides, there are thousands of delightful associations connected with flowers and shrubs. The imagination of the painter, or the poet, never conceived a more exquisite picture of beauty than the dove of the ark gliding towards Ararat with the olive-branch, over the still, solitary, measureless surface of the waters, gazing down upon its own shadow, and listening to the music made by its own wings. Lectures on history, manners, or even mythology, might be given with no text but a leaf or a flower. With a white and red rose before him, the historian might comment upon the old English wars between the houses of York and Lancaster ; a bouquet of Eastern flowers would recall to the traveller's memory some dark-eyed maiden of Persia, whom he had seen committing to the charge of a pigeon, swiftest of messengers, a billet composed of buds, the accepted symbols, in her father-land, of hope, joy, grief, reproach, or affection ; and the humble daisy of the mead might give a hint to those learned in antique lore, to depict Proserpine gathering flowers in the vales of Sicily, unconscious of the ap- proach of gloomy Dis : a good homily, too, might be written upon a violet." " What you have said is very true, Lady Mary," replied her cousin ; " but the mineral has also its associations : it possesses a greater individuality of interest, in this respect, than the flower. You may show me a rose of the same species as those worn by the princely Plantagenets, but it is not the same rose. The flower perishes before the hand that gathers it is cold ; but the mineral's duration affords scope for the imagination to roam as far as the border-land of the probable and the possible. The wise may smile at me for indulging the feeling, or making the confession, but I have often detected something akin to awe creeping over me when gazing upon a gem : it may have sparkled on the THE CABINET COUNCIL. 15 arm of Cleopatra, as she sailed down the Cydnus; or enriched the crown of Semiramis, or the girdle of a Ptolemy; or been worn by the Theban mummy that was embalmed three thousand years ago, and after that immensity of time, is brought to revisit the glimpses of the moon, to be gazed and wondered at by those who have been, comparatively speaking, but just ushered into life. It may be, I have thought, when looking at an amethyst, that thou wert once contemplated by Pliny, and wilt be looked upon, a thousand years hence, by some one abiding in what are now the wilds of the New World, but then the heart of a populous city, and the mistress of the earth, with feelings precisely similar to my own! And what a harvest of rich recollections may be ga- thered from the sight of a suite of family diamonds! At how many birth-days have they been admired! How many brows have they adorned! The hoops and furbelows with which they were once accompanied ; the myriads of fashions, nay, whole generations of their wearers, have passed away, and are forgotten ; their names are only found on musty parchments, pedigrees, or monuments : but the diamonds are the same ; brilliant as ever, they mock their transient wearers by their durability, sparkling on the bosom of the Lady Jane of to-day, as they will, in all probability, sparkle on the brow, the wrist, or the zone, of some equally young and admired Lady Jane, some centuries to come. They have been in a side-box when Garrick played Richard, and will be worn, it may be, at the performance of some Cherokee Roscius a thousand years hence." " Why, Pen!" said Lady Mary, almost staring at her cousin, " I never heard you talk at this rate, and in this style, before. What has possessed you! " " Simply a desire to make a fellow-student. I have merely adopted your own manner, because I thought it would be more likely to attract you, than the usual plain humdrum level of my discourse. You look as though you were astonished, that your Cousin Pen could mount the stilts, or rise into heroics; but, believe me, coz, * an thou'lt mouth, I'll rant as well as thou. 5 " " The other science," said the Editor, " to which, I imagine, Lady Mary alluded, is Ornithology. It is certainly my intention to admit the clas.s-nuitos of the humming-bird, with those of the nau- tilus, the butterfly, the emerald, and the rose. The mineral and vegetable kingdoms have each been so finely advocated, that it would be superfluous in me to utter a sentence in their favour. You are both, I know, very much attached to Conchology and 2 16 THE CABINET COUNCIL Entomology. The degree of eloquence either of you might display, in defence of those sciences, may be easily imagined, on consider- ing for a moment the fertility of the theme. There is a fine halo of poetry in the imagination, round the conch, the nautilus, and the pearl, as well as the lily and the amethyst; and it cannot be denied that the insect world is endowed with as much beauty as, and more interest than, either the rose or the diamond. If Lady Mary ground her strongest plea in favour of flowers on their vitality, how much more powerfully may we, on the same score, advocate the cause of the butterfly ! There is nothing so admi- rable in the operations of nature, e within the bourne of Flora's reign,' as the metamorphosis of an insect its gradual develope- ment and advance through various stages of existence, until it emerges from a tomb constructed by itself, endowed for the first time with the means of soaring in the air. And what can the mineral or vegetable kingdoms afford so attractive to the in- quiring mind, as the singular habits and instincts of many insects, and of several of the animals, which, like * the hermits of fairy- land, abide in pearly grottoes on the shores of OceanusT But notwithstanding the potent claims on our attention of the insect, the shell, the mineral, and the flower, it is a matter of doubt whether either of them be more worthy of our investigation than birds. The forms of an immense number of birds are remarkably graceful ; the plumage of many exhibits tints as rich, brilliant, and diversified, as can be found in the entire range of animated nature ; their structure is various, and, in all cases, admirably well adapted to their wants and habits. Their utility to mankind is obvious : they afford us articles of ornament as well as of use i the plume of the ostrich is associated, at the toilet, with the flower , the gem, the pearl, and the produce of the silkworm; to neither of which are we indebted for such important benefits as have been afforded us by the quill of the goose. The nidification of many birds is quite as ingenious as that of insects; their migrations have attracted the notice of philosophers for ages past ; and their familiarity in a domestic state, and the affection they display toward their nestlings, elevate them, as objects of human interest, above all the other classes of creation which we have noticed." " Your remarks," said Aunt Elinor, " appear to me to be very correct: and you act discreetly in suffering Ornithology to occupy a niche by the side of its sister sciences. Thus far would I go, but no farther." THE CABINET COUNCIL. 17 s< But you do not, I trust, mean to restrict yourself to the sciences, however interesting and important they may be," said Lady Mary. "Certainly not," replied the Editor; "I have taken hints of your occupations from the escrutoire which adorns your table ; and the drawings, by your own hand, which bedeck the walls. This rich piece of ancient tapestry, which is so beautiful, that one might imagine its pattern was designed by Raphael himself, who did not deem his magic pencil disgraced by drawing for the noble embroideress of olden times; and yonder specimen of beautiful lace, executed, perhaps, by the hands of the inventress of the art, Barbara Uttman, the celebrated maiden of Saxony, have also afforded me valuable ideas. Believe me, I have not overlooked that excellent bust of Mozart, and the harp, which stands in yonder recess; nor the oldfashioned mirror, a relic, doubtless, of some celebrated beauty, in the days of hoops and high-heeled shoes, and which has reminded me of the importance of the Toilet." " Well, cousin, I positively begin to feel much interested in your book," said Lady Mary; "and if you will deign to accept a compliment from one so much younger than yourself, I admire your discrimination. But do not forget our exercises, I beseech you! Remember, I had a fine cast from Canova's statue of Terpsichore, although, much to my regret, it has lately met with an accident," " Dancing will, decidedly, have a place in the volume," said the Editor; "the work would be very incomplete without it." " My cousin's Ascham, her bow and quiver, have also, I hope," observed Penelope, "been favoured with your notice." " Archery, when I was a young woman," said Aunt Elinor, "was never thought of as a feminine recreation; but I admit that it is now very generally patronised ; and having, as an exer- cise for the young, received the sanction of ladies, whose age and character entitle them to the utmost respect (Aunt Elinor spoke this with most significant emphasis,) I am bound to approve of it." "And Riding," added Lady Mary, "certainly must not be omitted. My whip, I am satisfied, has not escaped your glance; and my aunt, I will venture to say, highly approves of riding on horseback." "It is, unquestionably, beneficial in many respects," said Aunt Elinor; " but still it must be considered, as a graceful exercise, vory inferior to Dancing. The minuet-is matchless." 18 THE CABINET COUNCIL. "It seems then to be decidedly your opinion, ladies, that Archery, Riding, and Dancing, are very proper exercises." "Unquestionably so," said Aunt Elinor ; " and I may add, that in these, the only unobjectionable parts of the new science, which I believe is denominated Calisthenics, will be found in their greatest perfection." "The young ladies, I am happy to say," observed the Editor, " appear by their looks most cordially to agree with you. I have, Aunt Elinor, as you know, taken counsel on the subjects with which the volume should be occupied, of the most intelligent and respectable ladies, in every intermediate degree of age, from grave matrons to girls of fifteen ; and I flatter myself, that I have ob- tained much benefit from their hints, and shall succeed in pleasing them all. That I have not consulted my fair young cousins befpre, is not because I did not entertain that respect for their opinions which they deserve; it rather arose from my desire of submitting my plan to them in a perfectly mature state, so that I might obtain the benefit of their suggestions for its ultimate polish. It is gratifying to find, that those, whose judgment I respect, and who belong to that class whom I am anxious to please, ap- prove of my forthcoming production ; for in such a case as this, to make use of the words of an old author, it is useless to please the dowager, unless our work delighteth the damsel.' Innumerable difficulties presented themselves to the perfect execu- tion of my ideas on the subject: you will, of course, imagine that it was an impossible task for an individual." " That I can readily conceive," said Lady Mary ; " but in these days, when the press teems with new publications, there surely can be no dearth of authors." "Authors, mere authors, and even persons of great talent," replied the Editor, "are thick as the leaves in Vallombrosa. Nothing is more easy than to get up a volume of papers, by first- rate hands, consisting of passable poetry, amusing or pathetic talcs, and excellent essays on men and manners; because an immense number of coadjutors may be found: but those, who have anything valuable to communicate in any of the depart- ments of art and science, are few: and but a small portion of these few, however highly gifted and experienced, have the power of communicating their acquirements by means of the press. Even to those, who are practised in the art of composition, the diffi- culty of describing any practical operation is almost beyond belief. Hence, the worth of a page from a scientific writer is THE CABINET COUNCIL. 19 considerably enhanced. To discover persons of science, or prac- tical experience, who were at once willing and able to write on subjects calculated for such a work, has, therefore, been a much more arduous task than could be easily imagined. Individuals of the greatest eminence, have, however, been successfully sought out, and induced to contribute their assistance; and as each has written only on that art or science which he or she professes, there is every reason to hope, that success has crowned the efforts which have been made to render every page instructive and valuable." " I think there can be little doubt on that point," said Aunt Elinor; "but you have omitted to remark, that acting upon the suggestions of myself, and two or three estimable persons of my acquaintance, you intend to offer your young readers a brief but impressive chapter, by an experienced lady, on the important subject of Moral Deportment." " It had not escaped my memory, I assure you, Aunt Elinor," said the Editor, " neither have I forgotten to descend from a very high, to a comparatively trivial subject the fabrication of those elegant articles, denominated by Lord Normanby nick-nackeries, which are so profusely scattered around me. To readers who are a few years younger than my cousin, I feel satisfied that the pages which I shall appropriate to the mode of constructing various elegant and useful ornaments of the toilet and the boudoir, will be decidedly interesting." " And even to those of our own age also," said Lady Mary, " if you take Penelope's opinion. The ingenious productions you allude to are of her own manufacture and the best of them have been but lately completed. She has the presumption to say, that working in pasteboard is a familiar and practical illustration of the principles of geometry." " And with great propriety, rather than presumption, as I should say," observed Aunt Elinor. " In truth, I am almost inclined to agree with you, aunt; but before you conclude your visit, cousin," said Lady Mary, as the Editor rose from his seat, " allow me to say, that both Penelope and myself are conscious of the compliment you have paid us, and we must make a suitable return. I remember being present, some years ago, at the ceremony of launching a frigate: she was called, I think, the Ariadne, or theArethusa; and my sister had the honour of naming her, which she did in very delicate terms, while a bottle of wine was thrown at the fair Arethusa's head! 2* 20 THE CABINET COUNCIL. From this circumstance I take my hint; and if you will bring the manuscript of your book, neatly written on gilt-edged and wire-wove paper, and beautifully bound, Penelope shall name it, while I sprinkle its title-page with eau-de-mille-fleurs." "But what name shall I confer upon itV inquired Penelope. " As it is to be a book exclusively devoted to young ladies," said Lady Mary, " let us resist all euphonious temptations, of which I confess the very nature of the work presents an abun- dance, and give it the plain but comprehensive title of * THE YOUNG LADY'S BOOK.' " " Your suggestion shall be adopted," said the Editor; "and be assured, that I will endeavour to render it worthy of its name. And now, ladies, I shall assume my editorial mask; and with the Graces for my lady-ushers, proceed at once to hold a Court of Art, Science, and Recreation." 3L> ubertute. Here, in this classic bower, the Muses' home, Fair Science sits upon a throne empearl'd ; And, at the waving of her wand, a Gnome Reveals the treasures of the mineral world. Her silver bow Latona's daughter bends ; Young Music, heav'nly maid ! assumes the lyre ; Terpsichore her glad assistance lends ; And Painting's charms the youthful soul inspire. Here, Flora reasons on a budding rose ; Lorn Philomel a learned treatise sings ; While purple moths their graceful forms disclose, With lectures woven on their gorgeous wings. Minerva and the Graces here display The charms of taste with wisdom's lore combiu'd ; And willing Sylphs their various arts essay, To raise, improve, and gratify the mind. MORAL DEPORTMENT. Oft in the pleasant villages of France, Some high-born lady crowns the rustic maid With floral emblems of her modest worth. CENTAL improvement should always be made conducive to moral advancement: to ren- der a young woman wise and good, to prepare her mind for the duties and trials of life, is the great purpose of education. Accomplishments, however desirable and attractive, must always be considered as secondary objects, when compared with those virtues which form the character and influence the power of woman in society. Home has justly been called " her empire;' 5 and it is certain that to her it is a hallowed circle, in which she may diffuse the greatest earthly happiness, or inflict the most positive misery: it is never so narrow but from thence may stream many a benignant ray to illume a neighbour's dwelling, and it may be wide enough to give light to thousands. The virtues of a woman of rank and fortune, extend far beyond the mansion where she presides, or the cottage which she protects, by the example she offers, even in the most unos- tentatious manner and in the most trivial actions, to those around her and below her. Gently, imperceptibly, but most certainly, 24 MORAL DEPORTMENT. will she imbue with her own purity and beneficence the atmos- phere in which she moves; softening the obdurate, correcting the depraved, and encouraging the timid. Those who are not placed by Providence in so brilliant a sphere, may, by their con- duct, produce the same effects, in a more limited circle and in a less degree, but with equal honour and satisfaction to themselves. The virtues of the heart must be cultivated not less than the acquirements of the mind, or we shall look in vain for the fruit we desire ; nor must we expect mere girls to exhibit those flowers which only experience can supply, or labour attain, in either case ; but as it is certain, that knowledge and virtue may, and generally do, grow up together, so we may earnestly entreat the young to give to this subject their most anxious attention. In examining their own conduct, analysing motives and cor- recting errors, repressing those faults to which they know that they are prone, and resolving to cultivate virtues in which they have proved themselves defective, females, at all ages, are, it is evident, exceedingly well employed, but more especially so at that happy season of life, when prejudice and habits have taken no deep root ; when passions are generally easy of control, whilst the sensibilities and affections of the heart, and all its better impulses, are awakened, to aid us in the task. Such is the bias of our natural dispositions toward some par- ticular modification of good or evil, that it is a difficult task so to offer advice in the management of temper and inclination, to girls in general, as to bring it home to the feelings of any par- ticular individual. There is no occasion to recommend gentleness to the timid, nor courage to the bold: to inspire the ambitious with emulation, or recommend ingenuousness to the open and sincere ; we, nevertheless, will venture to lay before our young readers what may be termed a list of virtues, not one of which can be dispensed with in the female character, since all will, un- questionably, be called for, at one period or other, in their path through life, as a means of security to themselves and of benefit to others, and which are positively demanded by the religion which they profess as Christians. Piety, integrity, fortitude, charity, obedience, consideration, sincerity, prudence, activity, and cheerfulness, with the disposi- tions which spring from, and the amiable qualities which rise out of them, may, we presume, nearly define those moral properties called for in the daily conduct and habitual deportment of young ladies. On each of these I beg to dilate a little, not merely for the MORAL DEPORTMENT. 25 purpose of explaining what will be self-evident to every reflecting mind; but in order to impress more deeply on the memory, asser- tions and facts too frequently forgotten in the confusion of multi- farious engagements, or more amusing disquisitions* Allow me to say, I would do more: I would address myself warmly, ten- derly, to the heart of every young creature who casts her eye over these pages ; intreating her, by every affectionate epithet, and every powerful motive, to consider their importance to herself, and all whom she loves, or may love> *their consequences through life and after death. PIETY includes faith, devotion, resignation, and that love and gratitude to God, which stimulates us to inquire his will, and perform it, so far as the weakness and imperfection of our nature permit. It offers the best foundation, not only for solid happiness, but for that serenity of temper, and disposition to innocent gaiety, which is at once the charm and the privilege of youth. No idea can be more fallacious than the supposition that the refined and rational pleasures of society are incompatible with those acts of devotion, and that occasional abstraction of the mind from worldly pursuits, practised by every pious person. The lofty aspirations, the deep humility, and unshrinking confidence of a Christian, in those moments when the soul may be said " to commune with her God," can have no other effect on any well-regulated mind, than that of adding sweetness to the usual intercourse, and interest to the common incidents of life. It increases the endearing submis- sion of the daughter, the fond affection of the sister, the kindness of the friend, and the generous forbearance of the superior, by a perpetual sense of the abiding presence of Him, from whom we have received the blessings, or by whom we are exercised by the trials, these dear connexions may impart, and extends our sympathy to the whole human race* I lately had the pleasure of witnessing the deep interest taken by two amiable sisters in two younger branches of the family, at the period of their confirmation, and shall not soon forget the peculiar tenderness^ the lively attention, with which each party regarded the other the remainder of the day. A new and holy tie seemed added to their former bonds ; a sweet seriousness, by no means allied to sadness, sat on the face of the younger; whilst smiles, as of welcome to new blessings and en- larged affections, illumined the countenances of the elder, who were both still unJer nineteen, most elegant and accomplished young women, moving in the first circles of society. I am well aware, that all high- wrought emotions, however pure and exalted, 26 MORAL DEPORTMENT. must subside; but they leave, like the rose, fragrance when their bloom is faded; and I am justified in believing, that these sisters played their next duet together, contrived a new dress for their mother, or engaged in any of the common occupations of life, with increased attachment and more lively interest, in conse- quence of the sympathy in devotional feelings they had expe- rienced for, and with, each other. INTEGRITY is a virtue of great extent: it includes rectitude of intention, honesty of action, an aversion from all deceit, and that sense of justice which prevents us from injuring our fellow creatures, not only in word or deed, but even in thought. The world is extremely deficient in that common honesty, which every one would blush to have doubted ; therefore, it well becomes us all to examine our claims to being considered persons of sound principles: and young people should closely look into their own bosoms, and determinately subdue in themselves all those pro- pensities which militate against their own sense of uprightness. They should remember, that all extravagance has a direct ten- dency to great evil, and has rendered more persons unjust than any other failing. It is one of the most pernicious branches of selfishness, which always seeks to appropriate that which it desires, without considering the claims of another: whereas, a generous and noble spirit would renounce its own wishes for another's good; and a simply honest mind would, at least, scrupulously weigh its own rights, lest it should encroach on another's. It is the more necessary to gain proper ideas on this subject, because the farther you advance in life, the more you will be tried. In my opinion, all young persons, on leaving school, ought to have a regular income, to which, whether it be large or small, they should accommodate their expenses. Wise parents will render it suitable to their rank in life, and the necessities their daughter may happen to have for her appearance in society. Too much, or too little, will be found alike injurious : the former will render an unthinking girl profuse, and a prudent one covetous: in one case, money will be wasted to no good end ; in the other, accumu- lated for no beneficial purpose. Too small an allowance, though the lesser evil of the two, should also be avoided, as being likely to induce envious dispositions, petty meannesses, and to prove inju- rious to that strict sense of integrity, that undeviating rectitude, which is not only the best bond of social life, but the hinge on which domestic happiness and individual respec lability are con- tinually turning. MORAL DEPORTMENT. 27 FORTITUDE, like Integrity, may be termed one of the severer virtues; but it is not the less necessary for the weaker sex, since with less physical strength, and feAver opportunities of improving it, either mentally or corporeally, woman is yet called upon to exert great powers of endurance, both actively and passively. The pains of sickness, the misfortunes of life, the inflictions of calumny, call upon her for patience under suffering; and firmness, resolution, and perseverance in conduct; without these qualities, a woman, however engaging or attractive as a companion, must be found deficient in all the nearer relationships of life, and incapable of fulfilling its more important duties, all of which, in her own per- son, or that of some near connexion, demand the assistance this virtue, in one of its many forms, can alone supply. CHARITY. The sweet exercise of this virtue seems so con- genial to the nature of youth, that I would rather seek to regulate its impulses, than recommend it to an attention, I trust, already attained. A young lady, rich in the possession of friends and fortune, who is devoid of pity, incapable of the offices of hu- manity, or withholding the aid of charity, appears to me an ano- maty in creation. To this fair miser, this scentless flower, which shall blossom without esteem, and fall without regret, I offer no advice on the subject; but to the generous, tender, and kind- hearted girl, whose wishes run beyond her means, to the scru- pulous and prudent, who fears lest she should commit an error whilst she indulges a virtuous inclination, I would suggest a few admonitions. Whether you are the mistress of a regular allowance, or the proprietor of casual sums, never fail to appropriate some portion of your pocket-money to a charity-purse. When you are making purchases, and, after due deliberation, see that of two articles the cheaper will answer your purpose, add the money you thus save to the same sacred deposit, by which means you will seldom be placed in the painful situation, of eagerly desiring to give, whilst you are conscious that in prudence and justice you have nothing to bestow. Economy is the handmaid of Charity; without her aid, the melting heart and the tearful eye are of no avail, there- fore never despise her assistance, even in trifles : but as cases will occur so pressing on the claims of humanity, for present and larger help than the purse in question can supply, you may some- times encroach, without blame, upon your general store; in which case, make up the deficiency by some new act of self-denial; for regularity is as necessary a duty as charity is an agreeable one. 28 MORAL DEPORTMENT. Do not forget that Charity has a much wider signification than alms-giving. Affability of manners; gentleness of demeanour; attention to the courtesies of life; compassion towards all who suffer, whether high or low; a kind construction of all the words and actions of our fellow creatures ; and patient forbearance, or generous forgiveness, towards those who have grieved or injured us, are also demanded by this virtue. " Charity suffereth long and is kind; Charity envieth not; Charity vaunteth not itself," is the language of that Apostle who best understood its nature and has so touchingly concentrated its qualities. OBEDIENCE is so much demanded in the female character, that many persons have conceived it was the one virtue called for in woman, as it must be deemed by all to be such in a child. If man, as the guide and head of woman, were himself a perfect creature, this would, unquestionably, be true ; but as a being, ac- countable to her Creator, and endowed by him with reason, unqualified and implicit obedience to a creature like herself, liable to many errors, cannot, consistently, be required. It is, however, certain, that in whatever situation of life a woman is placed, from her cradle to her grave, a spirit of obedience and submission, plia- bility of temper, and humility of mind, are required from her; and the most highly-gifted cannot quit the path thus pointed out by habit, nature, and religion, without injury to her own character. Modesty, which may be termed the inherent virtue, and the native grace, of woman, which she may be exhorted to retain, but will seldom be entreated to acquire, renders obedience, in general, easy and habitual to her, especially at that period of life, when she is placed under paternal care, and " the yoke is easy, the burden light." There are, however, gay and buoyant spirits, haughty and self-willed minds, even among the softer sex, that are not otherwise ill-disposed, who feel obedience a difficult task, and are ready to question the wisdom, or analyse the rights, of " all in authority over them." To such I would urge this virtue as a religious duty, if they could not submit to it as " a reasonable service." I would beseech them, as females called to self-control and meekness, to obey, "for conscience* sake," in every case where conscience itself did not utter the command, " hitherto shall thou go, but no further." CONSIDERATION is of the utmost value in that situation where the conduct of woman has its greatest utility and most valuable influence, the domestic circle. It combines the powers of reflec- tion, with the sentiments of kindness, and saves from many an MORAL DEPORTMENT. 29 anxious hour, and wearisome labour, the parent who thinks for you, the teacher who instructs you, the servant who toils for you. It is a gentle and feminine virtue, unobtrusive as to appearance, but important in effect. The threatenings of incipient disease, the ruin caused by foolish expenditure, or likely to ensue from idle speculation, the temptations which might have misled an ignorant servant, the disclosures that would ruin an imprudent Acquaintance, the present aid that may save a wretched family, may be happily prevented or supplied by Consideration. It is the " still small voice," which can allay the tempest, or direct the tide of human affairs, by an agency alike mild and beneficial, powerful and unassuming. SINCERITY has been hailed by the poet as the " first of virtues ; " and it has the benefit of being, like modesty, a pretty general one to the young and artless, who cannot have so mixed with the world as to have learned deceit. Children are seldom disingenuous, but in some, extreme timidity produces this effect; the want of courage to own their faults, or reveal their wishes, leads them to effect, by cunning, the power of veiling the one, and procuring the other. Such a tendency to error calls for no little care from the instructer; and if her efforts have not wholly succeeded in clear- ing the soil, injured by the excess of its own delicacy, let the young lady herself seek diligently to recover her own esteem, by struggling against everything in her bosom allied to concealment, lest deception should be mingled with reserve. It is the painful, but necessary, regime, to which her mind must be subjected, until she have acquired habits of sincerity, if not of openness ; and all who love her must assist the effort. Sincerity is so nearly allied to Integrity, that they can scarcely exist asunder. The love of truth and the practice of fair dealing go hand in hand ; and whilst we regard them as virtues, lovely in their simplicity, we venerate them as the majestic foundation on which a beautiful structure shall hereafter be erected. But whilst I earnestly intreat one class of young ladies to render themselves sincere, as well as gentle, ingenuous, as well as meek, I cannot dismiss the subject without advice to those frank and open-hearted girls, who are not liable to the sin of deceit, but who, in their scorn of flattery, and profes- sion of extraordinary freedom, are liable to mistake rudeness for sincerity. To be blunt in reply, quick in censure, and severe in remonstrance, is not only unfeminine, unladylike, anJ, as such, reprehensible, but it ought to be particularly avoided by the young; because they cannot possibly hope to be of any utility to their 30 MORAL DEPORTMENT fellow creatures, by affecting the character of reprovers To them, more particularly, may the advice of our Lord apply; "Judge not, that ye be not judged;" for seldom are they aware how much the pride of their own hearts, and the irritation of their own tempers, may mingle with their admonitions: but they ought to be assured, that their equals in age will not suppose them wise enough to direct ; and to their elders it must, unquestionably, seem presumption to attempt it. There may, undoubtedly, arise in early life, and especially in female life, occasions when The grave rebuke, Severe in youtliful majesty, may be uttered from young lips, and glanced from young eyes, so as to prove effectual advocates for religion and virtue ; but bene- ficial effects, of this description, are not often found to arise from those who pique themselves upon plain speaking. Such persons lose the power of delicate reproof, or decisive disapprobation, on the extraordinary occasions which may occur, by wasting their energies on trivial subjects, and evincing a determination to speak their hastily-formed opinions, at the expense of humility, charity, and patience. Let us never forget, my dear young friends, that " a mild answer turneth away wrath;" and that the same Divine Word which bade many " resist unto death " for a great cause, bade its followers, also, " be affable and courteous." It is, in these times, our happy and pleasant duty, to add that politeness of the heart, which is produced by the Christian graces, to that polish of the manners which is the result of a sound understand- ing and self-controlled mind. The purest sincerity is compatible with both ; and it should be an object of solicitude with every one, to be alike upright and consistent, gentle and sincere. PRUDENCE may be termed rather a quality than a virtue; but it is so necessary for all the purposes of life, that an imprudent person seldom escapes the imputation of some vice, and the in- fliction of much unnecessary sorrow. The generosity and ardour of youth, too frequently lead young people to consider the lessons of prudence as allied to mistrust, fastidiousness, or avarice; but they are by no means necessarily so, though it is possible for them thus to degenerate in peculiar dispositions. Sincerity is perfectly compatible with true politeness; and Prudence, with generosity, confidence and friendship. Every young lady, who thinks before she acts, will easily see the patli which Prudence dictates, and rarely find that it demands any other sacrifice than MORAL DEPORTMENT. 31 those required by positive duty; and without thinking, she can neither acquire virtue, nor secure happiness. ACTIVITY and CHEERFULNESS maybe linked together, for the former is frequently the cause of the latter ; and both are de- manded in early life, as the flowers of spring, which give beauty and gladness to the earth for the present, whilst they promise the harvest which will enrich us at the future hour. Indolence of habit creates gloominess of manner and acerbity in temper, and induces those diseases which create and increase the evil, and prove more injurious to the character and the person than sickness itself. We have all seen amiable but afflicted young people, who have endured confinement with cheerfulness, pain with fortitude ; and, from motives of affection to their parents and friends, preserved a portion of their youthful sprightliness and energy, through days of weariness and nights of suffering ; but in the listless apathy of idleness, and the languor of indifference, every virtue perishes, and every talent fades. Far better is it to have too much enthu- siasm, buoyancy, and energy, in youth, than too little ; for expe- rience, care, and knowledge, will correct the redundancy: but it is, indeed, difficult to excite the cold-hearted to exertion, or woo the inert and stupid to the cultivation of taste and intellect. She who has, from a sense of duty, and the force of good principles, conquered this lethargy of the mind, is therefore entitled to the highest praise ; and her future activity and cheerfulness may indeed be ranked in the list of virtues. In every family, from the highest to the humblest situation, there is a necessity for active services on the part of the young ladies, too evident to require enumeration. So soon as the cares of education are over, every mother has a right to expect from her daughter such attention to the domestic arrangements, the younger branches of the family, and the entertainment of visitants, as may lighten her own burden, and impart to her the delightful satisfac- tion of finding a friend and companion in that beloved being, for whose welfare she has been so long solicitous. Such occupation need not, by any means, interfere with the elegant pursuits, or the common amusements of social life, if early rising be adopted; for two hours in the morning are more valuable than four at any later period, when the routine of family engagements is entered upon. It has the additional merit, to an active and modest girl, of rendering her pursuits private. Last summer, I was a visiter lor several weeks in a gentleman's family, without discerning that the blooming girls I met at breakfast had been preparing their 3* 32 MORAL DEPORTMENT. little brothers for their classical lessons, instructing a younger sister in music, and settling that provision for the day, demanded by a numerous establishment ; but I now know that these merito- rious and truly endearing services are performed by them with not less vigilance, even during their abode in London, amid the gaieties of the season. (Dear and excellent young friends! to whom memory and affection turned, when I began this essay, and look again whilst I am concluding it, happy should I have been to dedicate to you this little compendium of moral duties, which your conduct has proved to be attainable in youth; but it will better suit your delicacy, and my own sense of it, to be silent.) That much more might have been said, will be evident to all who duly weigh the subject; but I would not weary those whom I desire to benefit. A writer, who has for many years conscien- tiously endeavoured to supply to the young those lessons they greatly need, in the form they constantly desire, has a right to be considered a personal friend, since they are familiarly ac- quainted with her principles, feelings, thoughts, and wishes. As such, affectionately and earnestly I request their attention to subjects so deeply interesting, so immediately connected with their best interests, and which, for the first time, I venture t) offer without the clothing of fiction, or the aid of anecdote. THE FLORIST, Proserpine, gathering flowers, Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis Was gathered. ARIOUS are die notions entertained relati/e to Botany. A great number of persons con- ceive it to be a mere dry study of the forms of plants ; that a botanist minutely examines every notch and gland of a plant, and turns over various volumes only to ascertain its name ; which having discovered, he is satis- fied. Judging by this false estimate, they pronounce Botany to be insipid and useless; a sort of grave and dreary idling. Let those who thus decide upon its merits, first inquire what they really are. Botany is not a mere knowledge of the names of plants, and of the mode of ascertaining those names by a reference to the classes, orders, genera, divisions, or families, of a system, artificial or natural: this is but the alphabet of Botany; which, having learned, the botanist begins to inquire into the internal construction of plants; their affinities, and their differ- ences ; and by what means they live, and receive nourishment : hence he learns the soil and mode of cultivation best adapted for each ; the uses to which they may be applied, and the evils which are to be prevented. He inquires what country produces a plant in its wild state ; for what purpose it is used by the natives ; and 34 THE FLORIST. whether another, nearly related to it, might not be applied to the same use in the country to which such other belongs ; so that its inhabitants might not only be spared the expense of importation, but derive advantage from what had previously been considered an useless weed. It has not unfrequently happened, that plants have been imported at great expense from foreign countries, which have afterwards been discovered to be indigenous. It must be acknowledged, that some plants have entirely lost their value by growing nearer home; but, in such cases, the fault lies not with the botanist, but with those who value things in proportion to the trouble and money expended in their attain- ment. The Golden-rod (Solidago Virgaurea, fig. 1) was formerly considered an excellent vulnerary; and our ancestors imported it at half-a-crown an ounce. "But since it was found in Hampstead wood," says Gerard, " even as it were at our towne's end, no man will give halfe-a-crowne for an hundred weight of it." Not to dwell longer upon the utility of the science, of which, however, very much might be said, it is infinitely agreeable ; and the reader may, with little difficulty call to mind many anecdotes and pleasing associations with plants, which will endow them with considerable interest. In Mythology, many flowers and plants hold eminent stations. The histories of Narcissus, Hyacinth, Clytia, Daphne, &c. have often been " the poet's theme." Daphne, it will be remembered, was changed into a Laurel, the true poetic Laurel (Laurus nobilis,) which is said to resist the lightning. Clytia was metamorphosed into that sweet flower, the Peruvian Heliotrope, which formerly bore her name. The word Heliotrope signifies a follower of the sun ; as Helianthus does the Sunflower. The close examination necessary to discover the genus and species of a plant, makes us acquainted with many beauties con- cealed from general observation, either by their situation or their minuteness. We have not only an endless variety before our eyes, but are continually struck with the purpose and foresight displayed in apparently trifling peculiarities. We are always learning some- thing new ; and the knowledge we thus acquire is such as calls forth our admiration and gratitude; and while it gives that con- scious power, which all knowledge, more or less, bestows, awakens a sense of humility, by a comparison, which cannot fail to occur THE FLORIST. 35 to us, between our own powers and the simplest works of Nature. We cannot pursue knowledge of any kind, without enlarging our views, as well as acquiring new ideas ; and botany has the great advantage of ameliorating the disposition, while it elevates the mind. Even those who do not study plants botanically, may find pleasure in rearing and attending to them ; which is as elegant and interesting an amusement as any pursuit whatever to which a young lady can devote her leisure. I take it for granted, she feels all that delight in them which seems so naturally to belong to her age and sex. A love of the beauties of nature, whether in general or in detail, is always amiable ; and there is something pe- culiarly adapted to feminine tenderness in the care of flowers. Do not mistake me, fair reader, I beseech you; I would not be under- stood to insinuate, that no one is amiable who does not love to rear flowers. One young lady may be indifferent to them, from having seen but little of their beauties; another, from having seen too much. Yes; I can conceive a possibility, that being constantly surrounded by a variety of fine flowers, in the garden, in the green-house, and in every part of the dwelling-house, which no one seems to regard; which are tended and watered by servants; and of which she knows not, perhaps, half-a-dozen, even by name, may render a young lady careless and altogether indifferent about them; who, under other circumstances, would have shown a taste for their beauties, and an inclination for their culture. A different disposition might be otherwise influenced by the same habits ; and might imbibe a taste for seeing, rearing, or studying them, by this long and intimate familiarity with their beauty and fragrance. Should a young lady profess a total disregard of flowers, I should yet be unwilling to admit that she was incapable of feeling their sweet influence, though circumstances might have rendered her insensible to them ; and should be inclined to propose to her a few questions, by way of ascertaining the cause of so (as it would seem to me) unfeminine an insensibility. I would ask her, if she had ever, during her infancy or childhood, been permitted to run, sit, walk, or gather wild flowers in the green meadows'? If she had ever waded, breast high, in the long grass, to gather Butter-cups and Sorrel 1 If she had ever filled her frock with Daisies, priding herself in finding the reddest-lipped 1 If she had ever pelted her young companions with balls, made on the instant, with fresh gathered Cowslips ; or slily adorned them with 36 THE FLORIST. Cleavers (Galium Aparine, fig. 2,) and laughed to see their re- peatedly vain endeavours to escape from their tenacious hold! If she had been permitted all these sports, and yet loved not these pretty toys of her child- hood, I should, indeed, fear that her distaste were a deficiency of taste in general. I should conjecture, that she who loved not the lovely dress and various ornaments in which Nature and the Seasons are attired, would have little relish for the delightful scenery of Spenser ; that she who failed to treasure up these early asso- ciations of innocent pleasures, would but ill appreciate the human sympathies of Shake- speare. If it should appear that these young pleasures were wholly unknown to her ; that she had been accustomed to enjoy die fresh air only in the formal progress of a school procession, or a fashionable promenade; if she had only contemplated the general beauty of the country from a carriage-window, or her walks had been confined to her father's grounds; then, indeed, I should be disposed to congratulate her, that she possessed pleasures in store, which had been denied to her earlier youth; and to ex- hort her to throw off the trammels of mistaken dignity, and no longer to debar herself from those innocent enjoyments which impartial Nature offers alike to all. I would urge her to seek the shade of the woods, the freshness of the hills, the placid beauty of the valleys, and the flowery banks of the winding river. I would entreat her to enfranchise herself from the thrall of Fashion, and visit the spacious orchestra of Nature, that day and night, re- sounds with music: Shrill through the crystal air the music swims, To which the humming bee Keeps careless company, Flying, solicitous, from flower to flower, Tasting each sweet that dwells Within their scented bells. It is not recommended to a young lady to dig up the earth, study the modes of manuring it, or prepare compost : it will suffice for every purpose of health and pleasure, that she can sow the seeds in their fit season ; transplant the seedlings or young ever- greens; trim them and train them; give them sun or shade; water, or keep them dry, as their different habits may require. A garden offers many light and graceful occupations to a young lady; as, the THE FLORIST. 37 removal of decayed leaves and flowers ; raising and tying up roses, or other flowers, bending beneath the weight of their own beauty; training the Convolvulus, Sweet-pea, or other light climbers, to their frames or lattices ; uprooting the lighter weeds ; and, in some few instances, lightening trees of their superfluous blossoms ; or preserving strength to the roots, by removing the flowers ere their seed be ripened. Let us take a turn in the garden now, and see what cares it asks of us. Oh! those beautiful White Lilies are out! How elegant is their form! How pure their whiteness! How delicate their texture! How majestic their height! This is the flower of Juno; and is, perhaps, the only one that could have saved that jealous goddess from grudging to Venus the possession Of the Rose, full-lipp'd and warm, Round about whose riper form Her slender virgin train are seen In their close-fit caps of green. Some other of the Lilies show well side by side with this white one : that fine Red Lily, called the Jacoboea (Amaryllis formo- sissima, fig. 3,) for instance. The Lilies are a noble family, and splendid in their attire. We see them glowing in the most dazzling colours, crimson, vermilion, and fire-colour; some dropped with gold ; all large, rich, and elegant; yet we doom the rest of these fine flowers to oblivion, in favour of the white lilies. Though no flowers boast of finer, or of a greater variety of colours, we persist in considering them as emblems of the very perfection of whiteness and purity. It is remarkable, that with the exception of these bridal flowers, the Lilies are particularly warm-coloured : they affect no pale pinks, blues, or lemon colours ; but be it red, blue, or yellow, assume each hue in all its strength and power. The White Lily has some colour, just enough to make it appear the whiter: the six large golden anthers play in the centre like flame in a lamp of alabaster. It has been observed of flowers, that many of the more fragrant are the least hand- some ; as birds of homeliest plumage are mostly gifted with the sweetest song ; but this White Lily has a perfume equal to its beauty. It is an admirable study for a young botanist: the parts 38 THE FLORIST. are so large and distinct. You may readily count the six stamens ; each having a polished white filament, on the extreme point of which trembles the golden anther, with its sides open, and the pollen within them glittering in the sun. See the six-furrowed germ in the base of the flower, and the three-furrowed style ascending from it, and crowned with the triangular downy stigma ; the whole pistil of a pale and delicate green (Lilium candidum, fig. 4.) The pistil nourish ing the young fruit in its bosom, is considered as the mother, and bears a Greek name, signify- ing wife ; while the stamen, which supplies her with food for her young family, is termed the husband. Many of the Linnaean classes are de- termined by the number of the stamens ; which numbers being expressed in Greek, and prefixed to the word ANDRIA (husband,) form their names: MON ANDRIA, the first class, having one stamen ; Di ANDRIA, the second class, having two stamens, &c. The same numbers prefixed to the word GYNIA (wife,) distinguish the orders of these classes : Monogynia having one pistil ; Digynia having two pistils, &c. This Lily is of the class HEX ANDRIA ; order Mo- nogynia: a class and order very rich in magnificent flowers; containing Lilies innumerable; the Pine-apple (Bromelia;) the 5 Snowdrop (Galanthus nivalis, a, fig. 5;) the Narcissus; the Star of Bethlehem (Ornitho- galam umbellatum, 6, fig. 5;) the Tulip (Tu- lipa;) the Tuberose (Polyanthes;) the Hya- cinth, (Hyacinthus;) the aloes, &c. But let us continue our imaginary walk. How luxu- riantly the bushes are laden with Roses! but these, which have passed their prime, make a very unsightly appearance. The brown and withered petals should be crumbled off. Many have been cankered to the heart, and may be cut away altogether ; but we must be careful not to destroy such as are likely to produce a berry; for the heps of the Rose- tree will bestow their beauty on us, when the garden is less rich in ornament than it is at present; and we can better bear their present decayed appearance, than the want of their berries in a gloomier season. We can only crumble off the petals; but that will be an improvement. THE FLORIST. 39 Look at the calyx of this Rose (Fig. 6) these green leaves underneath the flower. Observe, there are five of them, all con- nected at the base ; two are simple leaves (or, rather, segments, being united below) ; two others are set on each side, with smaller leaves ; the fifth, as though uncertain which of the two examples to imitate, has one side simple, and the other edged with leaflets. Many species of tho Rose have this sort of calyx, and it is a very cwiousone. The Rose claims precedence even of the Lily in poetic rank. The species are almost innumerable: we have two-and-twenty natives; and our gardens exhibit others from all quarters of the world: several from Persia, " the land of Roses;" China furnishes some of the lighter and crisper species; Syria sends the Damask Rose, and the Double Yellow Rose, which the air, or the smoke of London, strikes with an almost instant death. Even Siberia has her Roses. Ame- rica affords many; and we have a few from Africa, of which the Musk Rose is one. Art has transformed the Rose to blue, and even to black; but as its natural colours are far more agreeable, at least, than the latter, we will not dwell on these strange tastes at present. Look around you: what an endless variety! Here are Yellow Roses, and White ; Reds of all shades, from the faintest blush to the richest crimson. Here is the variegated Rose of Florence, streaked with red and white. Nor is the variety in colour only: from the single-petalled Eglantine, to the swelling luxuriance of the Cabbage Rose, they present every gradation of form, size, and fulness ; of luxuriance, both of leaf and blossom. The Damask and Provins Roses, when in the height of their season, are very magnificent. Linnaeus considered the Moss Rose as only a variety of the Provins. It is, perhaps, the finest of them all; but it is not very easy to decide: they all have their merits. The warm richness of the Damask Rose; the delicate blush in the very heart of the full white flowers; the light crispness of the Chinese species ; all are beautiful. Some think the season of Roses on the decline at the end of June; but we have many of them through July ; some through August, or even September : and one or two of the Chinese Roses bloom throughout the year. The White Rose of China flowers from June to September ; the Red, from March to October; and the Chinese Monthly Rose is so called, because it blows every month. These are not, indeed, very 4 40 THE FLORIST. luxuriant, but they are delicate and graceful; compared with the fuller species, they are as the Persian Lilac compared with the Com- mon, or the Scotch Lilac. (Fig. 7, a, Cabbage Rose, and 6, Chi- nese Monthly Rose.) I remember somewhere to have read a story of a youth, who, hesitating in his choice be- tween two young ladies, by both of whom he was beloved, was brought to a decision by means of a Rose. It happened one day, as all the three were wandering in a garden, that one of the girls, in haste to pluck a new-blown Rose, wounded her finger with a thorn : it bled freely; and, applying the petals of a White Rose to the wound, she said, smilingly, " I am a second Venus: I have dyed the White Rose red." At that moment they heard a scream; and fearing the other young lady, who had loitered behind, had met with some accident, hastened back to assist her. The fair one's scream had been called forth by no worse an accident than had befallen her companion. She had angrily thrown away the offending flower, and made so perti- nacious and fretful a lamentation over her wounded finger, that the youth, after a little reflection, resolved on a speedy union with the less handsome, but more amiable, of the two young friends. Happy would it be for many a kind-hearted woman, did she know by what seeming trifles the affection of those whom she loves may be confirmed or alienated for ever! There is a strange confusion among the Roses. Some say the Provins is the same with the Cabbage Rose, but distinct from the Hundred-leaved. Some say this latter species is the same with the Provins, excluding the Cabbage Rose. Others suppose the Cab- bage and the Hundred-leaved to be the same species, but differing from the Provins. Miller tells us, that the Provins is named the Cabbage Rose, from its full cabbage-like form; and describes die Hundred-leaved (Rosa centifolia) as a different species, yet fuller, and having a number of small petals still folded hard and tight over the stamens and pistils, when the flower is so full blown that the outer petals fall around the stalk. The Rosa Gallica is the same with the English Rose, and is the officinal Rose of the druggists and distillers. A striped variety of this is often con- founded with the York and Lancaster, which is a variety of the Damask Rose. Many persons believe a Damask Rose to be, neces- THE FLORIST. 41 sarily, crimson ; and the deep red Rose of China is very com- monly termed the Damask China Rose; which is like talking of a French Turk. The Damask Rose is the Rose of Damascus. What is that magnificent plant which grows so high and close near yonder arbourl It is very like one of our native plants, the Viper's Bugloss; but the flowers are too regularly formed. Oh! it is the Siberian Comfrey (Symphyton asperrimum, fig. 8.) See how it is covered with drooping flowers! every cluster display- ing many shades of red and blue. The tube is full of honey : we cannot pluck a blossom without contending for it with the bees. These red stamens are very handsome, issuing from the blue corolla; there are five of them. It is in the fifth class. Of all the four-and- twenty classes into which Linnaeus has divided the whole vegetable kingdom, the last only bears any comparison, in extent, with this ; it is subdivided into seven orders, determined by the number of pistils. The last five orders together do not comprehend a sixth part of the class; the first two are very large. To the first order, Mono- gynia, belong most of the bell-shaped flowers, having a corolla of one petal, to which the five stamens are affixed, as you see in this Comfrey. The Convolvulus is of the same class and order, and has the same characters: if you split it, and spread it open, you will see the stamens af- fixed to it (Fig. 9.). They are not of equal length ; but although this inequality is some- times made a generic distinction, it does not affect the class, unless the number of stamens be four or six. These, though unequal, are not irregular: the longer and the shorter are alternate. The pistil remains in the calyx. The second order of the class contains most of the flowers termed umbelliferous (umbel-bearing.) An umbel is a cluster of flowers on separate stalks, all meeting at the same point, like the springs of an umbrella reversed. The stalks which support these umbels, being again assembled, many together, at one point, form a compound umbel ; and most of the plants which have their flowers so disposed, belong to the second order of the fifth class. The first order contains the handsomer flowers. To this be- longs the lovely little Forget-me-not (Myosotis palustris,) which THE FLORIST. has been so frequently lauded in verse, by Mrs. Opie, and other poetical writers ; and, if I mistake not, may also boast of a com- pliment in prose, from the poet, Coleridge. We have many beau- tiful native flowers, nearly connected with this; but they are excluded from the garden, on account of the coarse texture and appearance of their foliage. It is remarkable, that most of the blue flowers in this class are pink in the bud. This you may observe in all the species of Myosotis; in the Alkanet (Anchusa) ; Hounds'- tongue (Cynoglossum,) &c. This latter flower is of the finest blue imaginable. I fear I cannot point it out to you, for it is, probably, past flowering: but we may find a lingering blossom. Of this class is the fragrant Heliotrope, in the green-house; but the green-house, the garden, the woods, lanes, and meadows, are so rich in Pentandrous beauties, that I cannot pretend to enu- merate an hundredth part of them. Among them are the Prim- rose, the Cowslip, the Violet, the Cyclamen, the Campanula, the Honeysuckle, that elegant Periwinkle, with its broad shining leaves; this little flower, too, a weed, it is true, and one that should be driven from the garden's boundary, but which one can scarcely find heart to banish; not only because it is so pretty in itself, but because its wide-spread blossoms denote fair weather. If, when the sun is up, this flower be still found sleeping, I would advise you not to stray far from home; for you may expect rain. So accu- rate is the intelligence it gives on this point, that it is generally known by the name of the Shepherd's Weather-glass. It is also called Scarlet Pimpernel (Anagallis arvensis,) and acquires addi- tional interest, from the fact of its being one of the only two scarlet (lowers indigenous to England. Many red flowers there are; but this and the poppy are the only scarlet ones. That handsome plant, which you see climbing by the side of the jas- mine, is one of this wealthy class: a great and rather a late acquisition to our gardens. It is a Mexican plant, called the Climbing Cobcea (Cobcea scandens, fig. 10,) brought into Eng- land in the year 1800, but only within the last few years introduced into the open garden, which it adorns with its fine flowers for six months in succession. A Botanist would judge this to be a Pentandrous flower, before he examined it; and the botanical student soon discovers that flowers are more readily understood than at first appears ; for most of the classes have a THE FLORIST. 43 general aspect peculiar to themselves, which a little experience teaches us to detect at a glance. The names of the classes and orders only, alarm many persons ; but if they were to look at them boldly, they would find them not so great strangers as they believe them to be. In the vegetable system, as in many other things, a habit of order and arrangement appears troublesome at first, but, ultimately, saves both time and toil. I will give you a specimen, to show you how much less formidable an affair Botany is than you may suppose. I will tell and explain to you the names of the first ten classes. As far as ten they proceed regularly onward, the number of the class corresponding with the number of stamens. Besides their number, you are to observe, that they must be quite distinct from each other; and when there are four, or six, that two are not shorter than the rest. I told you that the Greek numbers were prefixed to the word ANDRIA; and these numbers are intro- duced so often in English compound words, that they are tolera- bly familiar to us: as, monologue, monarchy, dialogue, tripod, tetragon, pentagon, hexagon, heptarchy, octagon, octavo, decagon, decimate, &c. These words are of frequent, I may say almost daily, occurrence. Understanding the word andria, then, these names are immediately familiar to us: 1. MON-ANDRIA, One Stamen. 2. DI-ANDRIA, Two Stamens. 3. TRI-ANDRIA, Three Stamens. 4. TETR-ANDRTA, Four Stamens. 5. PENT-ANDRIA. Five Stamens. 6. HKX-ANDRIA, Six Stamens. 7. HEPT-ANDRIA, Seven Stamens. 8. OCT-ANURIA, Eight Stamens. 9. ENNE-ANDRIA, Nine Stamens. 10. DEC-ANDRIA, Ten Stamens. To proceed in our stroll: Those Kalmias are handsome, but somewhat too formal and pattern-like. Are not these Andromedas elegant? Perseus might well kill a sea-monster for love of any one of them. One of the finest of our hardy shrubs is the Arbutus Unedo (Fig. 11.) The blossom is very similar to the Andromedas ; and the fruit which, like the orange, hangs side by side with buds and blossoms, is beautiful and fragrant: it is well-flavoured, too. It has been said, that Pliny distinguished this shrub by the name of Unedo, to signify that one of the berries would suffice to those who tasted them; but this is doing the berry a great in- justice : from my own experience, I should say, that some straw- berries, commonly so called, are inferior to it, both in consistency 4* THE FLORIST. and flavour; and that the shrub is deservedly named the Straw- berry tree. This friendly tree not only gives us the shade of its evergreen boughs, throughout the summer, but, from September to December, cheers our drooping spirits with the beauty of its rosy offspring. The poor Syringa has lost its sweet odours: it seldom retains its flowers beyond the end of June; but they come with the breath of May, and spread their delicate cream-coloured petals almost is lavishly over the boughs that bear them, as the orange itself. The English name of the shrub is 3Iock-Orange ; but it is more commonly called by its old botanical name of Syringa: for which Liniueus substituted its present appellation, Philadelphia. It is the Philadelphia coronarius. But see, what is this plant at our feet, with its delicate leaves and rose-coloured flowers 1 Was ever anything more elegant'? It is the beautiful Fumatory (Fumaria forinosa, fig. 12.) You will find it worthy of a close examination: it is as curious as it is beautiful. You see it has six stamens, but they are not distinct ; they are joined together, three on each side ; consequently, the plant belongs not to the sixth, but the seventeenth class, Diadelphia. From a notion, perhaps a mistaken notion, of the union of brothers, these united stamens have been styled brotherhoods. Each set of united stamens being called a brotherhood, the class to which it belongs is named, in reference to their number, Monadelphia, Diadelphia; or, if there be more than two, Polydelphia (many brotherhoods.) In these classes, the number of stamens determines the order. The union is mostly at the base, extending upward, more or less ; but in this flower, they are quite dis- tinct at the base and at the top, and joined in the middle only. Most of the Diadelphous flowers are in the order DECANDRIA, which is chiefly composed of the papilionaceous, or butterfly-shaped flowers ; such as the Pea, Broom, Laburnum, &c. It may be considered as a poetic license to speak of their stamens as forming two brotherhoods, since it generally happens, that nine are united, while the tenth is apart and alone (Fig. 13.) The tenth are, proverbially, exclusive. But, in justice to this single filament, I must say, that he shows great willingness to associate THE FLORIST. 45 with his neighbours; and seems rather to wish to be thought one of diem, than to form a separate establishment: in some few instances he is admitted, and the second brotherhood becomes merely nomi- nal. This might make some confusion, but that we know every papilionaceous flower is bound to lodge ten brethren, of whom one is, or ought to be, left to shift for himself. He is, perhaps, the abbot, for he holds the highest station; and where we find him not, we may suppose the flower to be a sort of republican monastery, which acknowledges no chief. It is observable, that the Diadelphous plants most commonly have their leaves ternate (set by threes,) as in the Laburnum, Clover, &c. ; or pinnate, (composed of several leaflets set in pairs, with their faces all turned the same way,) as in the Acacias, Peas, &c. The form of the flower is remarkably elegant, and has very frequently the appearance of a butterfly just about to take wing. This resemblance has not been overlooked by the quick eye of Poesy. One of her children thus describes the flower and tendrils of the red and white Garden Pea (Lathyrus odoratus,) which gardeners call the Painted Lady : Here are sweet peas on tip-toe for a flight ; With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white. Painted Lady is a name very commonly given to red and white flowers. Some of the Pinks are so called; and one of the Pelar- goniums ; I think the tri-colour. Look at this Tulip-tree; it bears a very strange title; the Tulip-bearing Lily-tree (Liriodendron Tulipi- fera.) The blossoms are very magnificent, be they Tulips or Lilies: they are not very like either, it must be confessed. The leaves look as though some idler had amused himself with snipping oft' their ends (Fig. 14.) The shooting out of the young leaves is very re- markable, and deserving of attention. What have we herel A plant bedropped with gold! Small as it is, it is really magnificent! It is a Swiss plant, called Rhododendron hirsutum. It is but of humble stature, compared with the com- moner species; but though deficient in size, it excels in splendour. How is it that this shrub is so seldom seen'? It is, I believe, one of the first Rhododendrons cultivated in this country, and is a hardy shrub. The flowers are not so conspicuous as might be expected from their fine hue and rich gilding; but when seen near, 46 THE FLORIST. they are like a collection of gems. Every part of the flower is covered with pellucid glands of a yellow green, or of a golden colour; in some parts, the two colours are mingled; and, seen with a magnifier, they are truly admirable. The Kamschatka Rhodo- dendron (Fig. 15) is very difficult to cultivate; but, surely, it might be less rare than it now is, if it can be raised in this climate at all ! There is a beautiful figure of this plant in Pallas's Flora Rossica. Rhododendron is the Greek term for Rose-tree; the English name for the genus is Rose-bay : a name given to the Oleander also ; and, by some, to the Camellia Japonica, which is the only one that deserves it that is really like a bay tree bearing Roses superb Roses! Although this fine shrub has been cultivated in England for upwards of eighty years, it is not more than ten or twelve years since, that I heard a gardener ask seven guineas for one scarcely exceeding a foot in height, and bearing one white flower. Within the last few years, they have been less rare, and more reasonable ; and a plant of the same size may now be obtained for as many shillings. One great charm in this Camellia is the season of its flowering: from the miserable month of February, until the merry month of May, it spreads its gi- gantic Roses, as though Flora, to show her independence and her power, had purposely chosen that blank season for one of her finest productions. When the Camellia has shed its flowers, another showy plant, of the same class, Monadelphia, succeeds it: the Tiger-flower, of Mexico (Tigri- dia Pavonia, fig. 16.) This flower comes fiercely forth, but recedes as quickly; it has scarcely shown itself, but it has gone. According to our old friend Gerard, it should have sprung from woman's tears ; for, speaking of another fragile flower, the Venice-Mallow, he expresses a doubt whether it is not the true Adonis- flower. " Bion, of Smyrna, an ancient poet, in Adonis' epitaph, saith, that the Wind-flower sprang of Venus' teares, whilst she was weeping for Adonis; but, doubtless, the plant was mistaken by the poet, considering the fragilitie of the flower, and the matter whereof it sprang; that is, the teares of a woman, which last not long, as this flower, called Flos Horse, the flower of an hower." However quickly woman's THE FLORIST. 47 tears be dried, we would remind old Gerard, were he among our readers, that the blood of Adonis being mingled with them, might give stability to the Wind-flower, (the very little that it has) ; not to mention, that the tears of a goddess may be, like herself, im- mortal. Since Gerard has turned our attention to the Mallows, I 17 cannot refrain from expressing my regret, that the Syrian Mallow (Hibiscus Syriacus, fig. 17,) formerly known by the name of Althoea fru- tex, is now so little cultivated. It was once a favourite, and well deserves to be restored to the station which it formerly held. But we have forgotten our purpose to be useful here. At this season of the year we are lost amid the manifold beauties that surround us. Don't you admire this sweet Scabious'? Ob- serve how finely the white stigmas and anthers contrast with the deep rich purple florets. You cannot see the anthers in that flower; here is one in a more forward state, and you may see them distinctly, four in each floret. You will imme- diately pronounce it to be of the class TETRANDRIA. It has an aggregate flower, composed of several florets growing together in one receptacle; and in one calyx too, although each floret has a double calyx of its own. It is the Scabiosa atro- purpurea. The French call it Fleur de Veuve (Widow-flower) ; the Italians, Vedovina, (Little Widow.) The odour of it is very sweet, but rather faint. This shrub (Fig. 18) has aggre- gate flowers too, and is very fragrant; it has the scent of honey from, rather than for, the hive; and the florets collected together in heads, with their gaping mouths, look not unlike the honey-comb. It is called the Buddlea globosa: Buddlea, from Adam Buddie, a botanist, whose Herbarium is still preserved in the British Museum; and globosa, from the round heads of the flowers. This mode of naming plants from persons has become but too general. I know that it has many defenders, who say that it is impossible to give appropriate names to every plant. They con- tend, that when a plant is named from some particular character, the epithet will, not unfrequently, be rendered inappropriate afterwards, by the discovery of other species, partaking in a greater degree of that character; but that refers to the specific names OP T 48 THE FLORIST. only ; and it is mostly the generic appellation that is borrowed from men. When a genus is named from such men as Linnaeus, Jussieu, Tournefort, Sir James Edward Smith, &c. the honour is reciprocal and just; but when named from persons who, however devoted to Botany, are obscure and unknown, I cannot but think it ob- jectionable. It not only destroys all sense of distinction, and turns what was once thought a mark of honour, into a mere com- mon-place compliment; but it is losing the opportunity, of which Linnaeus so admirably availed himself, of expressing some peculiar character or habit. This Fraxinella spreads its sweet perfume over the whole garden. It is an exquisite plant altogether! The petals are elegantly disposed; the stamens too, gathering together, and drop- ping downward to complete the star which the upward-pointing petals had left unfinished (Fig. 19.) The leaves are pinnate ; and pinnate leaves have always, more or Jess, a lightness that is peculiarly graceful, and well adapted to this " starry-pointing 5 * flower. Yes; even the stamens point to the stars ; for, although they droop downward, they curl round their rubied tips and point them upwards. This is the Red Fraxinella (Dic- tamnus rubra.) And is that alH Only red 7 I will tell you the truth: the petals are rose-coloured, streaked with crimson: the filaments are rose-coloured, set with rubies; the anthers green, shedding a yellow pollen; the calyx deep crimson, and, as well as the backs of the petals, strewed with rubies or garnets ; some of which hang upon the flower-stalks also. How many different colours go by one name in the language of botanists ! and how many different names are given to one colour! It would be an excellent thing, if some one would invent notes to express colours and perfumes, in all their shades and varieties, as we do sounds. But I have more to say of this fragrant plant: even its fruit is adorned with gems. It is rather large for the size of the flower; and like the flower, is somewhat star-like in form ; and here, too, lodges as sweet a perfume as the flower itself affords. This is one of the plants one regrets to find so rare. It is curious that I never saw this before the present summer; when, in Macpherson's nur- sery-ground, at Highgate, I saw that and the Fumaria formosa, both for the first time, and was inclined to run away with the whole beds that contained them; yet, at the same time, so fearful of shortening the life of one of the blossoms, that I could scarcely THE FLORIST. 49 have heart to pluck one for examination, though the proprietor had granted me unlimited license. There is a white Fraxinella, which has its white flowers, &c. bedecked with emeralds and aqua-marinas, instead of rubies and garnets. Behold this noble Magnolia (M. grandiflora, fig. 20); how finely these large flowers show against the laurel-like leaves! Gi- gantic laurel leaves, indeed! They are like " two single laurel-leaves rolled into one." Here is another species (M. glauca): see the delicate silvery down on the backs of the young leaves! They are as soft and smooth as satin ; the older leaves are some- what leathery. These fine shrubs are from North America, where vegetation in ge- neral is on a much grander scale than in Europe. Now that we have been so very useful in the garden, suppose we look into the green-house for half an hour. We have improved the appearance of the Rose-trees during our gossip. Here, go with us, fair reader, we pray you, to the green- house, which we have in our mind's eye, we may fancy ourselves at the Cape of Good Hope: we are surrounded by Heaths and Geraniums; mostly from that country. The Heath (Erica) is, beyond comparison, the largest genus in the class OCTANDRIA, containing several hundred species, the greater number very handsome. The Geraniums, commonly so called, compose three distinct genera, in the class Monadelphia. They were all included in one genus, in the order DECANDRIA; but the stamens being foun 1 to vary very considerably in their number, it was thought advisable to arrange them under the orders to which they right- fully belong. Those with five stamens were placed in the order PENTANDRIA, and styled Erodium, (Heron Vbill): the greater number being furnished with seven stamens, were removed to the order HEPTANDRIA, with the name, Pelargonium, (Stork's-bill) ; those, with very few exceptions, are natives of the Cape, and chiefly shrubs: those with ten stamens were left under their old name, Geranium (Crane's-bill,) in the order DECANDRIA. The names of these three genera have reference to the long beaks of the seed-vessels, which are very peculiar, and curiously constructed. They all partake of a monkey-like habit of imitation: one spe- cios apes the Ivy; another, the Heart's-ease ; others, the Maple, 50 THE FLORIST. Celandine, Southernwood, &c. : and yet there is a general family resemblance, by which a botanist will readily recognise almost any one of them at first sight. This Chinese Primrose, however, (Pri- mula Sinensis, fig. 21,) might easily l>c mistaken for one, even by a botanist, when it is not in flower. The leaves are very Geranium-like. Observe how their silken down glitters in the sun! It is not often that the light strikes so favourably on them; but when it does happen, it discovers a beauty in their scalloped edges, which may have been overlooked for months. It is just now coming into blossom. People differ widely as to its time of flowering: I suspect it to be a very docile plant, that may be taught to flower at any season. It is a groat and general fa- vourite, and more commonly known than is usual with plants that have been so lately cultivated in England. It was intro- duced in 1820. In addition to the delicacy of the blossom, and the elegant appearance of the whole plant, it lias another ad- vantage, in flowering during the autumn and great part of the winter. But this is the plant for scent! This is " the shrub of smell divinest!" the Citron-scented Vervain. It was formerly considered as a species of Verbena, and is still familiarly called a Vervain; though botanists have removed it to another genus, and distin- guish it by the appellation of Aloysia citriodora (Fig. 22.) This shrub, and the" Peruvian He- liotrope (Heliotropium Peruvianum,) are two of the sweetest in the green-house. The odour of the Heliotrope is in the blossom; that of the Vervain is in the leaf. It is not merely Citron -seen ted, as described; I should com- pare its perfume to that of the Citron, combined with the taste of the Cherry and the Almond. In the Isle of Wight, and some of the south-western counties, this fragrant shrub flourishes well in the open air; but, in other parts of Eng- land, it is treated as a green-house plant, like the Myrtle; which, also, blooms in the open gardens in Cornwall, Devonshire, and the Isle of Wight. In the whole of that garden island, but more especially on the southern side, Myrtles are soon rising above the first-floor windows of the houses. One lions", in particular, is noted as being nearly covered with this shrub; it is at Shanklin; and, if I remember rightly, is the parsonage-house. I should THE FLORIST. 51 doubt whether Italy herself could exhibit finer Myrtles than that delightful " ocean gem." They are chiefly of the large-leaved kind; and so luxuriantly covered with blossoms, as to leave it doubtful whether the green or the white be predominant. Were the blossoms but one degree less beautiful, one might think the shrub almost too richly clothed. I have seen, too, in that island, some beautiful and very luxuriant specimens of the Blue Passion-flower (Passiflora, fig. 23.) The rose-coloured species was the first culti- vated in this country; but the blue is so hardy, and hangs so fine a drapery over walls and houses, that it is much more common than the other: the flowers are large and handsome; and the leaves assume, in autumn, a vivid crim- son that is exceedingly beautiful; more espe- cially when wandering over a white wall. This plant was named Passion-flower from a fanciful notion that it represented the instruments of Christ's passion, of which Harte describes it as an emblem : All beauteous flower! whose centre glows With studs of gold ; thence streaming flows Ray-like effulgence. Next is seen A rich expanse, of varying hue, Enfring'd with an empurpl'd blue, And streak'd with young Pomona's green. High o'er the pointal, deck'd with gold, (Emblem mysterious to behold !) A radiant cross its form expands ; Its op'ning arms appear t' embrace The whole collective human race, Refuge of all men, in all lands. The shrub which grows near it has remarkably fine leaves ; I always think they seem properly to belong to the Sun-flower: every leaf appears as though it must have a sun of its own to shine on it, and produce so burnished a face. It grows very fast; and would soon be climbing after the sun, and smothering all its neighbours, in its progress, were it not continually clipped. The flowers, at this distance, are scarcely visible: they are not un- handsome when seen near; but being of a dark, dull purple, they make but little show in the vicinity of its fine shining leaves. But I have not told you what it is called : it is the Periploca Graeca, and is worthy of the tasteful land of which it bears the name. This Hydrangea wants water. It is true, that great drinkers 5 52 THE FLORIST. being necessarily quick drinkers, revive as speedily when supplied, as they droop when not supplied, with water; but the frequent faintings that many are doomed to undergo, cannot but be inju- rious to them. The thirsty nature of the Hydrangea, is well expressed in its name; but this being a foreign one, it would not be amiss to give it an English name, of the same signification. Such names (English as well as Latin) as express the peculiar habits of the plant, would, in many instances, be found useful; and would help those, in the management of their plants, who are not acquainted with their history. The Cistus loves the sun; the Violet, the shade; the Myrtle loves the sea-shore; the Hy- drangea loves water; and the Celandine delights in chalk. All these tastes, and many others, might be expressed in their names; thus people might know how to treat exotics, and where to seek for natives. These significant names are much neglected, even in botanical language, of late, notwithstanding the example of Linnaeus. It is a grand thing to have this Cape Jasmin (Gardenia Florida, fig. 24,) so long in flower! From June till October these fine blossoms are out-rivalling the leaves in beauty. Large, glossy, evergreen leaves are always handsome, but these are par- ticularly elegant. It is a pity to call the plant a Jasmin; for it neither is a Jasmin, nor very closely resembles one. Do you observe the different -coloured flowers growing on this plant 1 ? Some of them are parti-coloured in themselves; others are wholly red, or blue, or violet; sometimes they are white. It is the Marvel of Peru, commonly called Four o'Clock Flower, (a name which it bears in the West Indies also,) the blossoms opening at that hour in the afternoon ; and that so regularly, that it has been frequently used as a signal for the commencement of the toilet; for walking out; or for any other daily exercise. Grainger, in his poem entitled "The Sugar-Cane, " recommends the planters to permit their slaves to retire to their huts, on the opening of these flowers, and seek shelter from the heat of the sun. It was formerly supposed to furnish the drug culled Jalap; and was, therefore, named Mirabilis Jalapa: that drug is now understood to be obtained from a species of Convolvulus; but the name having once been given, has not been withdrawn. Whether the wonderful property, from which it derives its ge- neric and its English names, be the regular opening of its flowers; THE FLORIST. 53 its variety of colours; or the beautifying power of its seeds, from which the West-Indian ladies prepare a cosmetic, I am wholly ignorant. Rousseau says, that the wonder was, its growing in America: everything that came from thence being, formerly, considered as wonderful. This Marvel was long treated as an annual plant; but it has been ascertained, that the root, if kept, during the winter, in dry sand, and planted again in the spring, will produce flowers for several years in succession. Sometimes the flowers are all white, or all red ; the leaves, too, are handsome and luxuriant (Fig. 25.) Here is a plant of the eleventh class, which I think I need not introduce to you. It can have no business in the green-house; but, I suppose, is not to be dispensed with anywhere. What can have made this little plant so gene- ral a favourite 1 It is sweet ; but many others are as sweet, and much handsomer, that have not enjoyed the high and lasting favour be- stowed on this. Has its name, Mignonette, (Little Darling) persuaded people that they ought to love hi This plant, botanically named Reseda odorata, is naturally an annual; but gardeners have contrived to make a tree of it. It is seldom that Art succeeds by contradicting Nature; she more commonly shows her skill in imitating or in aiding her; but, in this instance, she is contradicted. The plant is forbidden to bear flowers; which Nature having instructed it to do, it lingers on earth, until permitted to obey the laws of its mistress. This eleventh class is named DODECANDRIA, (twelve stamened); but the number of stamens varies from eleven to twenty. The twelfth class, called ICOSANDRIA, (twenty stamened,) is not limited to that number, either; it is distinguished from the next class, POLYAN- DRIA, (many stamened,) by other characters than the number of the stamens. In the twelfth class, the calyx is of one leaf, and has both petals and stamens affixed to its rim. In the thirteenth class, the stamens are fastened to the receptacle, which is the medium by which the flower is united with the stalk. If you eat a Raspberry, you will see a white point left at the end of the stalk, which occupied the centre of the fruit: that point is the receptacle. The twelfth is a beneficent class, productive of many fine fruits, invariably innocent. The Roses are of this class; the fine genus, Mesembryanthemum ; and the Cactus: this is a beau- tiful one, commonly called the Creeping Cereus (C. Flagelliformis, 54 THE FLORIST. fig. 26.) I could almost quarrel with Nature herself, for giving such leaves to so fine a flower ; but, doubtless, there are reasons for it which we do not comprehend. I ob- served to you, that when a flower had four or six stamens, of which two were shorter than the rest, it was not of the fourth or sixth class: if there be four of them, the flower is in the fourteenth class, called DIDYNAMIA, (two powers) ; as if to signify, that the tall pair of stamens were very powerful and im- portant personages. Thyme, Mint, Balm, the beautiful Foxglove, and the Sweet Basil, which shaded the buried head of the lover of Boc- caccio's Isabel, are of this class. The cross-shaped flowers, bo- tanically termed the cruciform, chiefly belong to the fifteenth class, TETRADYNAMIA, which has four tall stamens, one to guard each petal, while the humbler pair take charge of the honey-cups. Most of the genera of this class have a little pore or gland, con- taining honey, lying within the shorter stamens, at their base; it is to the curve they make to inclose these glands, that theii difference of height is attributed. The Stock, the Wall-flower, Honesty, &c. are of this class. The next three classes I explained to you before ; but I did not speak to you of the nineteenth: this is named SYNGENESIA, (growing together) ; a name applicable both to the florets and their anthers. The flowers are aggregate; being composed of many perfect florets, growing on one receptacle, and in one calyx; and sometimes accompanied by female florets also. This Daisy is a specimen: let us examine it with a microscope. Perhaps you would call these white leaves of the circumference, petals: they are florets. Take one off, and you will find a very small tube at the base, containing a pistil. (Fig. 27, a, white floret magnified; 6, yellow floret magnified; 1, is the seed; 2, the corolla; 3, the united an- thers; 4, the cloven pistil.) The centre, or as it is called, the disk of the flower, is a cluster of tubular florets divided at the top into five curling lips, and each containing a pistil and five stamens. The anthers are united in a ring, through which the pistil passes and protrudes its divided stigma. The pistils in the white florets are formed like the other pistils, but are not attended by the gallant guard, by THE FLORIST. 55 which those in the centre are protected. This pretty flower, which Chaucer so fondly petted and dandled, is named Daisy, from Day's-eye, because it opens and closes with the rising and the setting sun. If, indeed, it please Sol to take a nap at noon-day, and clouds supply his place in the heavens, the little Daisy follows that great example, and sleeps also: And, blushing in her sleep, she shows The vivid colour of the Rose Beneath her verdant lashes. The twentieth class, named GYNANDRIA, has the stamens situ- ated on the pistil. The two next classes are a fashionable race; they affect the manners of the West-end: in the twenty-first class, the stamens and pistils inhabit different flowers, but on the same plant; like a fashionable pair that live in the same house, but occupy separate apartments. It is, therefore, styled MONCECIA, (one house.) In the twenty-second class, the stamens and pistils keep a separate establishment altogether ; lodg- ing, not only in separate flowers, but separate plants; whence it is named DIGECIA, (two houses.) These two classes include many of our forest trees. The Juniper is Dioscious. These figures represent the barren and the fertile flowers (Fig. 28); those, growing in long catkins, like caterpillars, are the barren flowers ; the other is a fertile blossom, and is succeeded by the berry which gives its flavour to British gin. Nature is so liberal of her treasures, and, supplies us so largely, even with luxuries, that in many instances, we neglect to avail ourselves of her gifts. Commerce makes us dainty. We procure Tea from China, and disdain our own native herbs. It is not improbable, that with a little pains, we might find a native Tea quite as palatable as the foreign. Let us consider the uses of the Juniper tree alone, and we shall see the many advantages that may be derived from it. Sugar is obtained from the berries ; a decoction of these is drunk by the Laplanders, as we drink coffee or tea ; they furnish a wine, called by their name; and the Swedes prepare a beer from them, and a conserve which they eat at breakfast. The Germans use them to give a flavour to their sauer-kraut. The Norwegians infuse the young shoots, with a little barley, in some warm water, " which produces," says Brookes, " a weak, but not unpleasant, beverage." 5* 56 THE FLORIST. The berries, wood, and young shoots, are used in some medicinal preparations. The berries yield an oil, which is applied to many purposes. The wood is hard, and peculiarly durable; and is used for veneering, making cabinets, &c.; and even the ashes may be turned to account. The tree, though small in a wild state, affords timber, when cultivated. A gurn exudes from it, which is used in the preparation of varnish; and, when dried and strained, this gum is the powder known by the name of pounce. The bark may be manufactured into ropes. Such, and so many, are the uses of the Common English Juniper; yet, perhaps, the only use to which it is generally applied, is of a doubtful character; the preparation of gin. This is by no means the most valuable of our trees ; we have scarcely any one that might not be applied to many useful purposes ; and many, perhaps, the utility of which might be considerably increased. A plant of the twenty-third class is a sort of lodging-house; it is named POLYGAMIA, (many marriages,) and bears three kinds of flowers, some with both stamens and pistils; others, with the stamens only; and others with the pistils: often all on the same plant ; sometimes on two ; and, in a few instances, on three several plants. The last class cannot be hastily explained or understood. I will set before you the latter classes, at one view, as I did the first ten : 11. DODECANDRIA, Stamens, from eleven to twenty. 12. ICOSANDRIA, Stamens, twenty or more, affixed to the calyx ; the petals, also, are fastened to the calyx, which is of one leaf. 13. POLYANDRIA, Stamens, many, affixed to the receptacle. 14. DIDYNAMIA, Stamens, four : two shorter than the rest. 15. TETRAD YNAMIA, Stamens, six : two shorter than the rest. 16. MONADELPHIA, Filaments united in one set. 17. DIADELPHIA, Filaments united in two sets. 18. POLYADELPHIA, Filaments united in more than two sets. 19. SYNGENESIA, Many florets growing in one receptacle and one calyx ; anthers united in a ring. 20. GYNANDRIA, Stamens situated on the pistil. 21. MONCECIA, Stamens and pistils in separate flowers on the same plant. 22. DICECJA, Stamens and pistils on separate flowers and plants. 23. POLYGAMIA, Perfect flowers on the same plant, with fertile or barrer. flowers, or both. 24. CRYFTOGAMIA, Not to be hastily explained. Ah! here is the beautiful Cape plant, that people insist upon calling the Arum (Calla Ethiopica.) This is one of the water- loving plants; and, really, it is very spare diet for one so magni- ficent; with its noble flower, that looks as if it were moulded THE FLORIST. 57 out of a leathery alabaster ; and its large arrow-shaped, varnished leaves! (Fig. 29.) If it drank Champagne, it would be worthy of its keep. One may always have a family of these plants, for they produce a great number of off-sets, which being taken off and planted in separate pots, grow and flower in endless succession. I could find much amusement in tending all these plants ; but there is yet more pleasure in rearing them oneself. Those who expend the most time and the least money on their plants, will, probably, derive the great- est pleasure from them. It is not every one, who loves flowers, that can afford to purchase the fine exotics of the nurseries ; but every one, who has leisure, may rear a few flowers from the seed, and transplant native roots. Shrubs and perennials may be transplanted from the open country, and annuals may be sown either in the spring or autumn. These last will, probably, be the favourites. No plant, however handsome, is so precious to us as that which we have reared; which, by Divine permission, we have willed and caused to exist. It has reference to ourselves: self-love has, doubtless, a large share in the pre- ference; but it is a very innocent modification of it; and while we value ourselves upon imitating Nature, at however humble a distance, we cannot be far wrong; for Nature is benevolent as she is lovely. A very pretty flower-garden may be formed of native plants only. When living in the country, I have frequently trans- planted roots from the neighbouring lanes and meadows; some into the open garden, others into the house, as a resource when weather-bound. To those who reside in London, and love the country, there is a charm in our native plants, that is wanting to exotics, however beautiful: they are associated with a variety of rural objects; and bring before the imagination, the fields, woods, hills, and dales, whence they were taken. A bunch of wild flowers is a gallery of landscapes : Daises and Butter-cups represent fields and meadows ; Germander, Speedwell, Herb Robert, and Haw- thorn, are thick bushy hedges and grassy banks ; Blue Bells and Primroses are shady woods; the water Violet and Yellow Iris are standing pools; the Marsh Marygold is a running brook; and the Forget-me-not, a gentle river; the Blue-bottle and Corn- campion are fields of rising corn ; and the delicate Vervain is a neighbouring village. Some flowers, by association, take the 58 THE FLORIST. form of mills, or hay-stacks; and I have known them even to portray the features of a friend. Were I condemned to an eternal residence in the metropolis, the sweetest Jasmin, the finest Moss Rose, the noblest Camellia, the rarest, handsomest, and most odorous of exotics, would have less value, in my eyes, than a common Field Daisy; and a pot of these, when in London, I gene- rally contrive to have; counting the coming buds as a miser would count his guineas. The pretty Heath- bell (Campanula, fig. 30,) is also a favourite: some young botanists are puzzled by the spe- cific name, rotundifolia, which is applied to it, the upper leaves being linear, and the lower, decaying very early ; but if several be drawn up by the root, some will be found to retain the lower leaves, which answer to the appel- lation. To those who study plants botanically, the rearing them has an additional charm : it gives us an opportunity of observing them in every stage of their growth, and of seeing the changes made in wild plants by cultivation. If a plant prove handsomer than we had reason to anticipate, it seems to reflect a sort of credit on ourselves, which heightens our sense of its beauty. Those who reside in the country, and continually see trees and flowers around them, and breathe their odour, can have but a faint notion of the delight which a few green leaves afford to one who is doomed to gaze upon brick walls, and breathe the smoke of London. They know not the pleasure of arranging, petting, and cherishing, a few flowers, nor the importance every green leaf acquires under such circumstances. Those who have but few flowers, learn to make the most of them; and do not crowd them together so that one half of them are hidden, as is the case with bouquets in general. If you make the experiment, I think you will allow, that they look more beautiful when lightly grouped. Another thing I would recommend you to observe, in the mode of arranging them; put many flowers of a kind together, and avoid a contrast between very strong and very opposite colours. White has a very happy effect with any colour, particularly with red; Red and White Roses, with a sprig or two of evergreen behind, and rising a little above them, look more graceful than when mingled with a variety of other flowers; if there be a defi- ciency of White Roses, a few Lilies may be substituted. The large White Lily harmonises well with the Red Peony; the THE FLORIST. 59 smaller, with the Double Red Anemone. Blue and yellow flowers may be mingled; but rather in groups, than in alternate succes- sion. The superiority of this wholesale grouping may be seen by a visit to a nursery-garden; where the flowers are raised in broad beds, not indiscriminately mingled. Indeed, nature herself so arranges them: though her variety is infinite, she is as far from disorder as monotony; her colours and groupings are always tasteful. Flowers in water should have a fresh supply every morning; the dead buds and decayed leaves should be taken away, and the sodden ends of the stalks cut off. All the leaves should be re- moved from that part of the stalk which is concealed within the vase. When the flowers begin to hang the head, and to show a general aspect of languor, cut off the ends of the stalks with a sharp knife, and put them about two inches deep in warm water for a few minutes ; the water should not be actually scalding, but as warm as you can hold your hand in without a sense of pain. The moisture will make its way into the vessels of the stems ; and if they be taken from the warm, and immediately replaced in fresh cold water, the flowers will revive, and yet live for some days or hours longer, according to their kind. They should not be exposed to a hot sun. If you receive a good basket of flowers from a country friend, you may afford to sacrifice the immediate beauty of a few, to the future; some sprigs of Rosemary, Geranium, Wallflower, &c. may be stripped of their lower leaves, cut obliquely at the end with a sharp knife, and inserted about half their length in a pot of earth. This done in spring or autumn, they will put out roots, and become new plants. If covered with a glass, they will root the more speedily. It is not easy to give, very minute directions for the general rearing of flowers, because different plants require different management. With regard to air, such as are purchased from a green-house must not be exposed to the cold of winter, or of sharp autumnal nights. Perhaps the best general rule that can be given for watering plants, is, not to permit the surface of the earth to remain dry ; for, in proportion to the quick consump- tion of water will be the drying of the earth ; and a little obser- vation of these proportions, will enable you to judge of the quantity to be given to each plant: they must not, any more than yourself, drink during, or immediately after, exposure to a hot sun. If too little water have been given to a plant, and it be necessary to give it a fresh supply during the day, let it first be removed into 60 THE FLORIST. the shade. Such as are placed in the open ground, will not be so absolute in their demands, because they have more earth to draw upon for a supply. Plants, when removed from one place or pot to another, should have their decayed and sodden fibres cut away ; the roots should be allowed to retain their natural direction; and the plant should be shaded for several days after transplanting, that it may not perspire more than its strength will bear, while living upon a comparatively spare diet. When the roots have regained their accustomed vigour, the plant may again meet the face of the sun. We introduced this subject with the figure of a fair maiden collecting flowers; we will conclude it with that of another dis- tributing them. We might select the pretty Perdita, who bestows them as she would so many blessings; of which she thinks life is wholly made up ; but we prefer portraying the forsaken Ophelia, who bestows them with a difference; and of whom the queen said, after her death, I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, fair maid; And not have strew'd thy grave. MINERALOGY. Lo ! Vanity, with dazzling gems adorn'd, Flaunts proudly by : While Science pores upon a specimen Rough from the bosom of its native mine. HE fragrant beauties of the vegetable king- dom having engaged our attention to as great an extent as our limits would permit, let us now examine the dazzling beauties that lie beneath the surface of the earth. We may there find objects to rival, in our admiration, the plumage of the humming- bird and the rich tints of the gayest butterflies and flowers. Among them are to be numbered, Gold, Silver, the precious gems, Marble, Jasper, and an almost endless variety of minerals. This name is given alike to all inanimate productions of the earth ; from the most valuable to the most worthless. We have little occasion to descend into the mines, from which specimens are obtained, since they are much more conveniently studied when arranged in a cabinet. Let us, then, proceed to examine them methodically; for, exclusively to select and admire those which, at first sight, please the eye, would be not only uninstructive, but confusing. Minerals consist of Earths, Alkalis, Metals, and Acids, either simple or variously combined ; and some inflammable substances, such as Coal, Amber, and Sulphur. Many of these being manu- factured into various articles in common use, are already familiar 62 MINERALOGY. to the reader: such as Gold, Iron, Copper, Tin, and several other Metals; Alabaster, of which vases are formed; and Marble, which is fashioned into slabs and chimney-pieces, and affords the mate- rial which grows into beauty under the chisel of the sculptor; besides these, the Sulphuric and Muriatic Acids, which form a part of many minerals, are constantly used, under the names of oil of vitriol and spirit of salt. A knowledge of these substances, has, since the earliest ages, engaged the attention of the learned ; and, in latter years, has even exercised the imagination of the poet : Dull-ey'd Naphtha pours his pitchy streams, And Jet, uncolour'd, drinks the solar beams : Silvery Selenite her crystal moulds, And soft Asbestus smooths his silky folds ; His cubic forms phosphoric Fluor prints, Or rays in spheres his Amethystine tints. Gay-pictur'd Mochoes glow with landscape dyes, And changeful Opals roll their lucid eyes ; Blue lambent light around the Sapphire plays ; Bright Rubies blush, and living Diamonds blaze. Chemical investigation makes us acquainted with the proper- ties of minerals ; separates them into their elements, and enables us to distinguish one species from another, by ascertaining its composition. But as it would require a considerable knowledge of chemistry, and a great deal of time, to analyse every specimen, before it is placed in a collection, it is desirable that a collector should, so far as it is possible, become acquainted with the out- ward appearance and some other properties of minerals, which are called their external and physical characters. Under this term are comprised their external form and colour; their structure; fracture, or appearance when broken; hardness, transparency, or opacity; lustre, taste, smell, elasticity, weight, or specific gravity; magnetism, electricity, and phosphorescence. No doubt, most of these terms are clearly understood by our readers ; but some of them may require a little explanation. By specific gravity, is meant the weight of any substance compared with the weight of an equal bulk of distilled water; which, as the standard of comparison, is called one . Thus, if the weight of a cubic inch of water be called one, then the weight of a cubic inch of gold will be nineteen; of lead, rather more than eleven; of iron, above seven and a half; and their specific gravities are MINERALOGY. 63 said to be 19, 11.3, 7.6, &c. the specific gravities of minerals being written, for convenience, with decimal fractions. Some minerals, which contain a large proportion of Iron, attract the magnetic needle when presented to it; those which attract one end and repel the other, are said to have polarity. In a few minerals, electricity is produced by friction ; as in Amber and the Topaz, which, after being rubbed for a minute on woollen cloth or baize, will attract small scraps of thin paper and filaments of thread or wool ; in a still smaller number, it may be excited by the simple application of heat. A phosphoric light is emitted by some minerals when heated. An intimate acquaintance with these characters, assists us to compare one mineral with another, and to perceive in what re- spects it agrees with, or differs from, those which we either know from personal experience, or the descriptions given of them in Mineralogical works. Minerals may be divided first into five classes; namely: 1. EARTHY MINERALS. 2. ACIDIFEROUS EARTHY MINERALS. 3. ALKALINE SALTS. 4. METALS, AND THEIR ORES. 5. INFLAMMABLE MINERALS. Each of these divisions contains one or more families, which are a collection of species, different in some respects, yet resem- bling each other in a few of their principal characteristics. EARTHY MINERALS. In the first class, the Silicious Earth, SILICA, and those mi- nerals of which it constitutes the greater part, occupy a distin- guished place. In its purest state, it is called Quartz; and is often somewhat granular, but more frequently crystallized in six-sided prisms, terminated by six or three faces, forming a pyramid. When the prisms are long and transparent, they are termed Rock Crystal (Fig.l :) very brilliant groups of these, some colourless and others faintly tinged with orange, are found in Dauphine, and among the Alps. There is no neces- sity, however, to go quite so far to obtain them, as very good specimens are brought from the Cornish Copper-mines. The Cairn Gorms, of a dark brown colour, from Scotland and Siberia, and the beautiful yellow Rock Crystal of 6 64 MINERALOGY. Brazil, are varieties of Quartz ; and also, the violet-coloured or purple crystals, so well known by the name of Amethyst (Fig. 2;) to which gem the ancients attributed the miraculous power of counteracting the intoxicating quality of wine; for which reason, Pliny says, " it is good to wear a ring, or some other ornament, made of this stone, when you wish to drink freely." This advice, Pliny, of course, addressed to those of his own sex. The Amethyst is now deemed by its wearers to possess a charm, very different from that attributed to it, by the learned, but too often erroneous, author of antiquity. The Avanturine Quartz appears filled with particles of Gold, an effect arising from very minute fissures ; and the Cat's-eye, of Ceylon, much esteemed in the East, as an amulet of great efficacy, derives its satiny lustre from a fibrous texture. The most elegant of all the species of Quartz, is the precious Opal, which reflects flashes and sparks of the purest and most brilliant colours ; on one side a fine rich green seems to grow into Gold, and on the other, a sparkling crimson mells into a violet tint. Independently of these, the colour of precious Opal is grayish or yellowish white, the common Opal is of a darker colour, more opaque, and has no brilliant reflections. In Carnelian and Calcedony, SILICA is united with a small por- tion of ALUMINA (Clay.) The former is generally red, or milk- white, and occurs only in the form of pebbles, of various sizes, the finest of which come from India; the latter, which is a variety of it, is often bluish or yellowish, with but little lustre, and has, externally, a bubbled or grape-like form, termed botryoidal: it forms the principal part of most Agates ; especially of those which fill the cavities of Basalt rocks in the Faroe Isles, Saxony, and Oberstein, in the Palatinate; often in alternate layers of white and brown, or dark gray. Cameos are frequently cut from Agates of this kind: the head being carved in the white Calcedony, and the brown layer forming the back ground. Chrysoprase derives its vivid green colour from the oxyde of a scarce metal, called Nickel: it is translucent; that is, it trans- mits light; but not sufficiently to be called semi-transparent. Blood-stone, or Heliotrope, which was formerly supposed to be an antidote against bleeding, by applying it to a wound, is Cal- cedony, intimately mixed with green Earth, which imparts to it a very dark colour; the red spots, with which it is frequently MINERALOGY. 65 variegated, are Jasper ; an opaque quartzose mineral, containing a little ALUMINA or Clay, and offering a variety of colours, (red, ochre- yellow, brown, and sometimes green,) which are caused by the oxyde of Iron. It is abundant in several countries, particularly Sicily. Those thin white veins, by which it is intersected, are filled with minute Quartz crystals. Jasper was much prized by the ancients ; being considered by them as a precious stone, pro- bably on account of its hardness : it was one of the twelve stones which formed the breast-plate of the high-priest, Aaron. These were arranged in the following order: in the first row, a Sardius, a Topaz, and a Carbuncle ; in the second row, an Emerald, a Sap- phire, and a Diamond; in the third, a Ligure, an Agate, and an Amethyst; and in the fourth, a Beryl, an Onyx, and a Jasper. The first of these stones is, probably, the dark unburnt Carnelian, called by the jewellers, Sard ; the Ligure is not known at the present day; but the name Ligurite has lately been applied to a hard crys- tallized mineral, which considerably resembles the Chrysolite. Common Flint appears, at first sight, to have little affinity with most of these minerals; yet it is almost pure SILICA, and its hard- ness equals that of Quartz, which is considerably greater than that of glass; and, as it does not vary in different specimens, it becomes a kind of standard, with which the hardness of minerals may be compared, by scratching one with the other. It is not correct, however, to conclude, that every mineral which scratches glass belongs to the Quartz family, for there are a great many of inter- mediate hardness: Felspar, for instance, will readily scratch glass, and is easily scratched by Quartz. Others, again, as all the species of Garnets, are much harder than Quartz. That beautiful gem, the Garnet, contains a large portion of Iron, in the state of oxyde or rust, which is the cause of its deep red colour, and high specific gravity; namely, about four. The crystals are dodeca- hedrons (twelve-sided figures, of which the faces are rhombic, or lozenge-shaped, a, fig. 3, or else a figure of twenty-four somewhat irregular faces 6, fig. 3.) There are frequently narrow planes on the first figure, which appear to have replaced its edges all around; the edges are then said to be truncated: a circumstance which frequently occurs to the crystals of this, and of other minerals. It is proper, perhaps, to observe, that by a crystal, we do not mean Rock Crystal only; but all regular or symmetrical forms, inclosed by plane surfaces, which simple minerals are 66 MINERALOGY. found to assume. The word crystal (Krustallos) signifies ice; and was given by the ancients to the colourless transparent Quartz found in the snowy regions of the Alps; " which," says the cre- dulous, and, in this as well as many other instances, incorrect Pliny, "is, indeed, ice; but so permanently congealed by the extreme cold, that it can never again become liquid!" In time, the constancy of the form became remarkable, and the term was applied to all other regular solids. The crystals, both of common and precious Garnet, are usually embedded in Granite, or some other rock; and the Pyrope Garnet, likewise, which, as well as the precious Garnet, is used in jewel- lery; and, perhaps, excels it in depth and richness of colour. The latter is found in Bohemia and Saxony ; it is supposed to be the Carbuncle of the ancients. Common Garnet, a more abundant variety, is of a dull brown or green colour, nearly or quite opaque, and contains LIME. The Melanite and the Leucite are varieties of the Garnet: the former, which is found at Frescati, near Mount Vesuvius, is constantly black ; and the latter, of a grayish white colour, is abundant in some of the Vesuvian lava. The Tourmaline (Fig. 4) possesses two very singular charac- 4 teristics: one is the power of becoming strongly /jvTT^i electric, with polarity, on being heated; in- deed, more obviously so than any other mine- ral. If you suspect a crystal to be a Tourmaline, and wish to try its electricity, hold it in a slender pair of pincers, set in a glass handle, over the flame of a wax candle or small lamp ; but not so near that it may be blackened by the smoke. When it is just too hot to touch, on holding it near a very small piece of gold paper, suspended by a silken thread, if it be a Tourmaline, it will attract it; and the same end will, presently after, repel it. The other remarkable circumstance is, that, although the crystals, which are prismatic, and always streaked lengthways, appear perfectly transparent on looking through them from side to side: yet, if you look at the ends of a crystal, let it be ever so short, it will be found to be opaque. lolite, another species of the same family, possesses a somewhat similar property : in one direction it ap- pears purplish blue; in another, it is yellowish brown. It occurs in Spain, Bavaria, and Finland. Tourmalines are found in North America, Brazil, and the Island of Ceylon, of a green and dull blue colour, they are brightest from the last-mentioned place. Red Tourmalines, also, have been brought from Ceylon and Siberia; MINERALOGY. 67 they contain one-tenth part of Soda, and are called Rubellites, from their resemblance to the Ruby. Those whitish and reddish grains, nearly opaque, in Granite, the common paving stone of London, are Felspar; the grayish ones, more transparent, are Quartz ; and the dark shining particles are called Mica. In larger masses of Felspar, which is an abundant ingredient of many rocks, the laminated or crystalline structure is more distinct: you may perceive, that wherever it is broken, the surface of the fracture is shining, and almost perfectly flat ; it is, therefore, said, that it may be cleaved, or it possesses a cleavage, which is parallel to two opposite faces of the primitive crystal. This crystal is an oblique prism ; and it may be cleaved or split in two other directions, parallel to the remaining faces, but not with the same ease (See Felspar, fig. 5.) The capability of being cleaved, is one of great importance ; because it enables us to determine the primitive crystals of such minerals as possess it; their planes meeting at the same angles as the planes of cleavage. By the assistance of an instrument, called a goniometer, these may be measured very exactly ; and thus the species to which the mineral belongs may be ascertained. It is true, that when the crystals are large, and tolerably perfect, there is no need of resort- ing to this mode of determining it; but they are very often imper- fect, extremely small, or heaped together in great confusion. In some minerals, cleavage can be obtained only in one direction: such is the Topaz; and such is Mica, commonly rallod Muscovy Talc, and Muscovy glass, from its appearance and locality. One might, indeed, mistake the large transparent plates for glass, if set in a window-frame, though they are not always quite colour- less. Mica is used for the windows of the Russian ships-of-war; being a very elastic substance, it is less liable to be broken than glass. Perfect crystals of Mica, are small and rare; they are six-sided prisms (Fig. 6.) But we have examined only one species of Fel- spar, the common or massive kind. Moon- stone, or Adularia, a very white and pure variety, exhibits a pale blue floating light, and is used in jewellery j indeed, its delicate appearance, so like " the silver moon-light," certainly entitles it to rank among the precious stones, while the Cat's-eye is admitted as one. It is found 6* 68 MINERALOGY. in Ceylon and in some of the Swiss Alps. The desert coast of Labrador affords us another beautiful stone, now called the Labra- dorite. It can by no means be compared to Opal in brilliancy; yet the dark blue, green, and various shades of orange and flame colour, which it reflects, in certain lights, render it much more pleasing than its dark gray colour would, at first sight, lead us to expect. The Labradorite should be cut into small slabs, and pol- ished, to show it to advantage. Felspar and Mica both contain potash or pearlash. The Lapis-lazuli, or Azure-stone, which is brought from Persia and Great Bucharia, may always be known by its beautiful and constant blue colour, exactly similar to the ultramarine blue, which is prepared from it by grinding and washing. It is used for orna- mental purposes, although its granular texture prevents it from receiving a high polish. The next specimen which we shall notice, is one that might be mistaken for a piece of black glass, which it certainly very much resembles in its colour, lustre, and the conchoidal, or shell-like, form of its fracture. It is called Obsidian, and occurs abundantly in countries where extinct volcanos exist. In Mexico, there is a mountain of Obsidian, called by the natives, " the mountain of knives," which the Spaniards, also, translate " la sierra de las nava- jas," because they use the thin fragments, which are extremely sharp-edged, instead of knives and razors. Pumice has little external resemblance with Obsidian, but, in composition, they are nearly alike; and if Obsidian be exposed gradually to a strong heat, it will froth and become spongy, like Pumice. This experiment may be made on a small scale, with a blow- pipe (Fig. 7 ; ) which is a tube with a very small aperture, used to direct and concentrate the flame of a lamp or candle, by means of the breath. In making use of it, the fragment should be held in a pair of pincers made of Platina, or placed on a strip of Platina foil. Pitch-stone, another of the same family, is more opaque than Obsidian; most frequently dark green, and less shining. We will now leave these dull-looking minerals, and turn, for a few mo- ments, to the bright crystallized Zeolites. Prelmite, which was first discovered at the Cape of Good Hope, is translucent and yellowish, green; but the greater part of the MINERALOGY. 69 species are colourless. Natrolite (Fig. 8,) so named, from con- taining Natron, or Soda, occurs sometimes in opaque masses, formed of delicate fibres, of an orange or buff colour, arranged in a radiated form ; but the crys- tals, which are square prisms, terminated by flat pyramids, are transparent and very bril- liant: this variety occurs in the extinct vol- canos of the South of France. Mesotype is found in cavities of the Basalt rocks of the Giants' Causeway, the Isle of Staffa, and other places: the fibres, which are slender crystals, are always radiated from a centre, and the same cavity is sometimes partially filled by Calcedony, or the pearly crystals of Stilbite (Fig. 9,) and Analcine, which are both species of Zeolite. With the excep- tion of Prehnite, these minerals, if pow- dered and mixed with a small portion of muriatic or nitric acid, will, in a short time, acquire the consistence of a jelly. We must not carry our admiration of the crys- tals so far, as to neglect or despise the Clays and Slates on account of their want of beauty; for many of them are eminently useful. The Porcelain Clay, of a pure white, and soft smooth texture, is extensively used in our potteries; which are supplied with it, from the North of Derby shire, and St. Austle's, in Cornwall. Bricks are made of a coarse Clay, much discoloured by Iron, and intermixed with Sand, called Loam, which is abundant in the neighbourhood of London, and many spots of the south- eastern part of England, as well as in other countries. Tripoli is a very Silicious variety, so named from the country whence it was first procured: it is easily reduced to a sandy powder, and is em- ployed in polishing Marble, japanned ware, and other articles Rotten-stone, which is another production of Derbyshire, of a dark gray colour, and much softer, is used for the same purposes. One of the most useful species of this family is Fuller's Earth: before the invention of soap, it was considered so valuable for the cleans- ing of woollen cloth, that its exportation from England was for- bidden, under a severe penalty. Like Loam, it is found chiefly in the south-eastern part of this country. A stiff" Clay, from which yellow ochre is prepared, is dug in Oxfordshire. Of the Slates, the kind which is used for roofing houses is the most abundant; indeed, it forms a great part of the high moun- tains of Wales, the north of England, and Scotland, and occupies 70 MINERALOGY. large tracts in several other countries. A harder species, of a. light gray or greenish colour, is the Whet-stone, or Turkish Hone, used for sharpening cutlery; and the French and Italian Chalks, of which crayon pencils are made, are Slate, containing a portion of charcoal. There is another mineral, called French Chalk, very different from this, both in its appearance and composition: we allude to the substance which is so useful in removing spots of grease from silk and stuff: in Mineralogy, it is called Soap-stone, or Stealite, and belongs to the Magnesian genus, and to the same family as Talc. We are not speaking of Mica, incorrectly called Muscovy Talc, but of a much softer mineral, usually found in Magnesian or Calcareous rocks, and which is not elastic. The most singular species of the Talc family, is Amianth, of which the an- cients made the wicks of their everlasting lamps, and wove the cloth in which their dead bodies were burned. Its long cottony fibres may be easily spun with a small intermixture of thread ; and when the cloth woven from it becomes soiled, burning it care- fully restores it to its original whiteness. This mineral is abundant in some rocks of Serpentine; a mineral which resembles it in com- position, and belongs to the same family: Magnesia forms nearly one-half of their weight. The Portsoy and Anglesea Marbles, improperly so called, and the Verde Antique of Corsica, are varie- ties of Serpentine ; which forms, also, a large tract in Cornwall. The Chrysolite, a beautiful but soft gem, is arranged near these; its name, very properly, signifies a stone of golden green colour. The Chrysoberyl, of a paler green, and the Sapphire, which, in hard- ness, is inferior only to the Diamond, belong to the Ruby family, and the Aluminous genus; indeed, they consist almost wholly of the earth, ALUMINA. Perhaps you are not aware, that Sapphires are of various colours, blue, purple, yellow, rose-colour, white, and, more rarely, greenish: these varieties are usually known by 10 the name of Oriental Amethyst, Oriental Ruby, &c. Their lustre is very great, and their specific gravity about four, which is higher than that of most earthy minerals. The crystals of Sapphire are prisms and pyramids of six sides (Fig. 10 ; ) but the cleavages are parallel to the faces of the primitive rhomb, which, though rarely found in nature, may, without much difficulty, be obtained by splitting off the alternate angles of the prism, above and below. The cleavages, however, are much more distinct in MINERALOGY. 71 Corundum, an impure variety of Sapphire. In some specimens, the ends of the prism, when rounded and polished, exhibit a moveable six-rayed star of light. The species called Spinel, or Balass Ruby, is prized for its very rich crimson tint, which is attributed to a small quantity of the oxyde of a metal called Chrome, that enters into its composition. The form of the Spinel crystals is the octa- hedron (Fig. 11,) one of the five regular or platonic solids; these are found loose in the sand of Ceylon, with crystals of Sap- phire, Chrysoberyl, Topaz and Zircon. From the latter mineral the earth ZIRCONIA was named, being first discovered as the principal constituent of the little crystals of Zircon 12 (Fig. 12;) they are so called by the Cin- jn f\> i galese: the word signifying, in that lan- Ij guage, four-cornered. This is the heaviest \~/s IJj of all earthy minerals, but not quite so hard as Spinel. It is a curious fact, that the metal, Chrome, which tinges the Ruby with crimson, is the cause of the beautiful green of the Emerald. And, surely, the Emerald is, after all, the most lovely of the precious stones! The eye, after roving from the Diamond to the Ruby, the Sapphire, the Amethyst, and the Topaz, fatigued by excess of brilliancy and variety of colours, rests with delight on its refreshing green, Nature's fa- vourite tint. Emeralds are now found only in Peru; but they were formerly brought from Ethiopia, and were so much prized by the ancients, that they would not engrave on Oi-Sji them as on the other precious stones. The II primitive, and most usual crystal of the (J IJj Emerald, and also of the Beryl, or Aqua- marine, is a hexagonal prism (Fig. 13.) These two minerals, and the Euclase, which is remarkable for its brittleness, contain the earthGLUCiNA, and forma distinct genus. But in speaking of the Zircon and Emerald, we have omitted to notice the Topaz(fig. 14,) which belongs to the Aluminous genus. It is a mineral to be found in many parts of the world ; always crystallized, more or less perfectly; sometimes in the beds of rivers, and sometimes in the veins of mountains, with Rock Crystals and Aqua-marines. The bright rose colour of these crystals is not their natural tint, but is produced by exposing 72 MINERALOGY. the deep orange-coloured Topazes of Brazil, to a considerable heat for some hours, and then allowing them to cool slowly. The Siberian is Topazes are generally colourless or greenish: small pale yellowish crystals have been found in the Cornish Tin mines. We must notice one other mineral before we take leave of this class: it is called Grenatite, and, also, from its form, Cross-stone (Fig. 15.) The cross is produced by the intersection of two crystals, which are six- sided prisms; sometimes obliquely, and some- times at right angles. Cross-stones are found on Saint Gothard, at Compostella, in Spain, and some other places, most usually embedded in sil- very Talc, with crystals of a transpa- rent blue substance, called Cyanite (Fig. 16,) pronounced, and, by some mineralogists, written, Kyanite. ACIDIFEROUS EARTHY MINERALS. LIME, which enters into the composition of so many minerals, has never been found in a simple or uncombined state j but its combinations with the different acids, which are nearly free from any other admixture, are very characteristic ; and form, of them- selves, a distinct genus, called the Calcareous genus. In Lime- stone and Marble it is united with carbonic acid, commonly known by the name of fixed air ; because, though when pure and uncon- fined, it is gas or air, it enters into the composition of solid substances. When Lime-stone, or Marble, is burnt, this acid ex- pands and evaporates, and the stone becomes pure, or quick LIME. Like most other minerals, carbonate of LIME, in its purest state, is crystallized, colourless, and transparent; and is then called Calcspar (Fig. 17.) The lead mines of Der- byshire and Staffordshire, and the Dufton mines in the north of England, have long been celebrated for die beautiful specimens which they afford of this mineral: and es- pecially for their rare crystallizations, which are often extremely complex, though small. The primary and most simple form of Calc- spar, is an obtuse rhomboid, which, however, seldom occurs; but the crystals derived from it are very numerous, and many of them abundant : they are combinations of the planes of rhomboids, MINERALOGY. 73 both acute and obtuse, of six-sided prisms, and of dodecahedrons ; not such dodecahedrons as those of Garnet, but having twelve triangular faces, forming a kind of double pyramid. Very fine groups of the six-sided prisms are brought from the mines in the 18 Hartz forest, having their termina- tions white and opaque. The figure, commonly called dog's-tooth crystal (Fig. 18,) is a pyramidal dodecahe- dron ; the alternate edges being some- times replaced by narrow planes, which, if extended uninterruptedly, would form an acute rhomboid : those from Derbyshire are frequently of a Topaz colour. This mineral possesses, in a high degree, the remarkable property of double refraction : place a transparent fragment on a black line, or any painted or written word, and it will appear as if written or printed twice (Fig. 19;) and by moving the frag- ment, the two images will appear to move till they coincide. A some- what crystalline structure may be ob- served in Marble ; some kinds of which abound in petrifactions of shells, and other organic bodies. Chalk is car- bonate of LIME in an earthy form; and, if burnt, would afford LIME equally with Lime-stone or Marble. Another property which characterizes the minerals of this family, and is peculiar, more or Jess, to all carbonates, is that of effervescing when dissolved in any strong acid. In order to observe this, you need only touch the specimen with a small drop of nitric or muriatic acid, and the effect will be easily perceived. In this investigation of Calcareous minerals, we cannot omit to bestow a few observations on the celebrated petrifying springs of Matlock, and deprive them of the renown they have acquired by the magical power ascribed to them. The water, flowing through Lime-stone rocks, is impregnated with Calcareous matter, inter- mixed with CLAY, which, on exposure to the air, is deposited from it; hence it forms an incrustation on stones, twigs, moss, shells, or any other object, over which the springs trickle: this is called Calctuff, or Tufa. A species of carbonate of LIME, containing a very small portion 74 MINERALOGY. of the carbonate of STRONTIA, a mineral which we shall, by-and- by, notice, is called Arragonite, from the circumstance of its having been first observed in Arragon. The prettiest variety is one which has the appearance of white Coralline, with the ends of the branches sometimes shooting out little tufts of crystals: it is commonly known by the name of Flos Ferri (Fig. 20.) The combination of LIME with phos- phoric acid, is called phosphate of LIME ; and also Apatite. Its crystals resem- bling, in form, those of the Beryl, might almost be mistaken for that substance, but that, like all the minerals of this genus, it is soft enough to be scratched with a knife. It may, also, be distinguished by placing it on some hot coals, in a dark place, where it will shine with a beautiful phosphorescent light. Some of the Fluors, or Fluates of LIME, possess this property; par- ticularly a variety called Chlorophane, usually met with in Siberia, which, when gradually heated, emits a brilliant green light. Apatite is considerably harder than Calcspar; and Fluor, which is LIME combined with fluoric acid, is intermediate between them. Its crystallizations (Fig. 21) are, most frequently, the cube, and other solids, which appear to be derived from it; but its pri- mary form is the octahedron, which may be easily obtained from it by cleavage. The transparent, purple, and green Fluor of Yorkshire and Cumberland, is abundant in the Lead mines, and is beautifully contrasted with colourless crystals of Quartz and Calcspar, and sometimes accompanied by Lead ore and 22 Pyrites, which is an ore of Iron of a brass yellow colour; you have often seen it intermixed with Coal, and have been told, perhaps, that it is Gold. The fibrous, or radi- ated Fluor of Derbyshire, generally called Spar, acquires its rich purple tints by exposure to heat. Sul- phate of LIME, or Gypsum (Fig. 22,) which is the combination of MINERALOGY. 75 LIME with sulphuric acid, is very soft; its crystals are often pearly and transparent; but it is more frequently granular, shining, and sometimes of a reddish colour. When burnt, it becomes plaster of Paris. The delicate white and minute crystals seen on some dark brown Slates, are natural Alum; but the quantity of sulphate of Iron which they contain, gives them an inky taste, very unlike that of manufactured Alum. Phosphoric acid, combined with ALUMINA and a large proportion of water, furnishes us with a very pretty mineral, named Wavellite (Fig. 23,) from Dr. Wavell, who discovered it in Devon- shire: it forms small globular masses, having a somewhat crinkled surface, which are usually attached to a kind of Slate. When these little globes are broken, they exhibit a very perfect radiated structure. Heavy Spar, so named from its specific gravity, which is above four, is the sulphate of the earth, Barytes (Fig. 24.) The crystals are generally very well formed, and either colourless, dark brown, or yellow. Of the earth, STRONTIA, we have the carbonate, which is greenish and somewhat radiated; and the sulphate in bright colourless or bluish crystals, which, both in form and weight, strongly resemble those of sulphate of Ba- rytes. It was named STRONTIA, from Stron- tian, a village in the county of Argyle. ALKALINE SALTS. The Alkaline Salts form a very inconsiderable class, compared with the two we have just examined. A few of the species are, however, abundant; Nitre, for instance, which received its name from the desert of Nitria, or Nitron, in Egypt, where it covers the surface of an extensive tract of land ; and Rock Salt (the muriate of Soda,) which is very plentiful in England, and some other countries. Almost every one has read an account of the extensive Salt mines of Poland, which are about six hundred feet deep, and a descrip- tion of the chapels, altars, &c. which are carved in the Salt rock; but their brilliancy has, probably, been very much exaggerated. Borax is brought, in natural crystals, from Thibet and Persia. 7 76 MINERALOGY. Sal-ammoniac, which is muriate of Ammonia, is a volcanic mi- neral, sometimes found in lava. METALS. Of these, Gold first claims our attention. It is hardly possible to mistake any other ore for this beautiful Metal, so much does its colour exceed that of all others in richness. When Metals are found pure, they are called native Metals; both Gold and Silver occur in this state, forming branches and leaf-like aggregations, on Quartz ; and, more rarely, with Gypsum (Fig. 25.) Native Silver, also, & jjs) w^ frequently resembles bent and twisted wires. The most ancient Gold mines are, perhaps, those of Golconda; but, at present, by far the greater part of the Gold that is used in Europe, is brought from the rivers of South America. There are Gold mines, likewise, in Siberia. The richest and most numerous Silver mines are those of Mexico. The great weight of Gold is well known ; but every one is not aware that there is a metal much heavier, called Platina: it is found in South America, in the shape of small grains, of nearly a steel colour; and, for some years past, has been much used in the potteries, to cover earthenware, or porcelain, in the manner of gilding. Copper is also found native, in dendritic, or moss-like forms, and variously combined with Sulphur, oxygen, and some acids (Fig. 26.) With Sulphur and Iron it forms Copper pyrites, the most abundant of its ores, which may be distinguished from the Iron pyrites by its inferior hard- ness, and its different crystallizations (Fig. 27.) Its brassy colour 27 is often concealed by an external tarnish, exhibiting the tints of the rainbow; but this brilliant iridescence is most frequent on the variegated Copper ore, which is still softer, and of a deeper yellow, one-half of its weight being Sulphur. This com- bination of a Metal with Sulphur, is called a sulphuret. The sulphuret of Silver, which contains Antimony, is MINERALOGY. 77 of a colour so intensely red, that, at first sight, the crystals, which resemble those of Calcspar, appear black. Is it not singular, that the ores should sometimes be so totally unlike the Metals'? Many earthy minerals we see frequently almost in their natural state ; but few persons are acquainted with the ores of the Metals most commonly in use, or reflect on the many processes which are necessary to produce from them, such 23 articles as we call, from habit, the most simple conveniences. What can be less like Copper than those beautiful green specimens, exhibiting concentric shells of a delicate radiate structure (Fig. 28) 1 or that fine light blue one, surpassing the richest velvet, in its soft and silky appear- ance 1 The latter is hydrate of Copper ; that is, Copper combined with water ; the green ones, less rare, are carbonate, and called Malachite. There is also a carbonate of Copper of a deep purple colour, which is usually crystallized, though not always very distinctly (Fig. 29.) These species are scarcely known in the English Copper-mines; which, however, afford fine specimens of the native Copper, Copper pyrites, the pure gray sulphuret in hex- agonal crystals, and the different varieties of ar- seniate of Copper. The arseniates of Copper are of a blackish green colour, with the exception of the lenticular spe- cies, which occurs in greenish blue crystals of a flat octahedral form, heaped together in confused groupes (Fig. 30.) The word arseniate may require some explanation : Arsenic, which is itself a Metal, as well as Chrome, and a few others, when oxydized (or burnt,) becomes an acid; and in this state unites with other Metals, Earths and Alkalis, forming ar- seniates; Chrome forms chromates, &c. The Cornish mines have been celebrated for many centuries. It is supposed, that the Phoenicians, who were famed for their skill as armourers and braziers, procured Tin ore from Great Britain. At that period, Brass (Copper and Zinc) was much less used than at present, and the principal mixed Metal was an alloy of Copper and Tin : a natural combination of those two Metals has been found in Cornwall in very small quantity; but the oxyde of Tin is 78 MINERALOGY. abundant, of a blackish brown colour, and usually crystallized It is a singular fact, that though Tin is the lightest of the Metals, its ore is considerably heavier than that of Copper or Iron. The ores of the latter are numerous, but few of them possess any beauty. Na- tive Iron is so unlike every other native Metal and ore, both in its appearance and situation, that it is supposed to be a meteoric Stone. There is a mass of it on an elevated spot at the Cape of Good Hope, of which the surface is cellular, and much corroded by the atmosphere; and other masses have been found in Siberia, the desert of Sahra, and North and South America. There is another reason in favour of the supposition that these masses of Iron are not terrestrial productions ; they all contain, in a hundred parts, from one to four parts of Nickel, a rare metal, which is remarkable for its capability of becoming magnetic. Nickel has been found, likewise, in a small quantity, in all other meteoric stones, of which many have been seen to fall through the atmo- sphere. A large one, many years ago, fell in Yorkshire, and was observed by a labourer, near the spot, who procured assistance, and dug it out of the earth, into which it had penetrated some feet. Since this, a shower of stones fell in the south of France; 31 an account of which may be in the recollection of some of our readers. Iron pyrites (Fig. 31) is not worked as an Iron ore, but for the Sulphur it con- tains. Its crystallizations are the cube, octahedron, pentagonal dodecahedron, and various combina- tions and modifications of these: it is so hard as to give sparks when struck against Steel, and will receive a good polish. In Peru it is called Piedra de los Incas, and the early inhabitants of the country made mirrors of it. Natural magnetic Iron is an oxyde, and occurs very abundantly in Sweden and Saxony, both granular and compact. The Iron Glance, another variety of the black oxyde, which is sometimes magnetic, is the most brilliant of its ores; the 32 ^^ lustre of the crystals is, indeed, splendent, and they often exhibit a blue or green tarnish. An- other oxyde is the red ore, so common in Lan- cashire: the radiated variety, of a blackish red, is called Haematite; and when earthy, it is called Ruddle, or Red Chalk. The phosphate of Iron, or Iron mineralized by the phosphoric acid, forms transparent crystals (Fig. 32,) which are of an indigo colour and prismatic : the arseniate is always crystallized in cubes, MINERALOGY. 79 which become electric when heated (Fig. 33.) All the minerals which are known to have this property, are characterized by a peculiarity in their crystallization, their opposite terminations are different. This is the case with the Tourmaline, with some few Topazes, and with Analcime : but that such a circumstance should be apparent in the cube, which is a perfectly sym- metrical figure, is, perhaps, still more remarkable. The alternate angles are modified by the addition, sometimes of one, and sometimes of four planes. Carbonate of Iron greatly resembles carbonate of LIME, but is harder and heavier, and has but little variety in its crystallization. There is a further distinction ; namely, that by exposure to the action of the blow-pipe, carbonate of Iron becomes black, and carbonate of LIME, white and powdery. This little instrument is of the greatest utility in distinguishing the metallic ores. Many of them communicate a particular tint to the substance with which they are melted, called a flux: this may be powdered glass, borax, or soda, according to circumstances. Copper ores readily commu- nicate a bright green colour ; the ores of Manganese, a lilac tinge, which may often be observed in window-glass; when deeper, it becomes a rich violet. Cobalt, from which smalt and other fine blues are prepared, imparts this colour to the flux ; which, in re- ducing these ores, may be either of the above-named substances. In making such experiments, care must be taken to use a very mi- nute portion of the ore compared with the quantity of flux: a crumb, the size of a small pin's head, being, in general, sufficient; and also, not to expose the ore and flux, suddenly, to the hottest part of the flame. Antimony, a Metal which is applied to many useful purposes, both in manufactures and medicine, is found in combination with Sulphur ; and also, occasionally, with oxy- gen only. The sulphuret crystallizes in thin prisms, terminated usually by four small faces, forming rather a pointed summit (Fig. 34:) they appear perfectly metallic. This mineral is abundant in France and Germany, but not in Great Britain. The ores of Cobalt are alloys of this Metal with Arsenic, which consti- tutes about half the weight of the gray ore and the Cobalt Glance, or bright-white Cobalt ore: these, like the native Metals, have a 7* 80 MINERALOGY. perfectly metallic lustre; and the crystals of the latter exactly resemble those of Iron pyrites, but are generally smaller. The greater part of the Cobalt which is used in manufactures, is brought from Norway and Sweden. A very simple method of detecting the presence of Arsenic in any mineral, is to throw a small quantity, powdered, on hot coals, or a heated shovel : the Arsenic will, almost immediately, evaporate in fumes, which are similar, in smell, to those of garlic. Arsenic is found, also, in a native state, of a fine granular texture; prin- cipally in Norway, the Hartz, and Bohemia. Those beautiful, yellowish-green, transparent crystals, which we find dispersed over the Adularia and Quartz, are called Sphene, an ore of the Metal, Titanium. They bear considerable resemblance 35 to the Chrysoberyl, but are not so hard: the finest are brought from St. Gothard (Fig. 35.) It is disputed, whether native Lead has ever been observed: the sul- phuret, which is abundant in Saxony, Sweden, and some other parts of Europe, but most particularly so in Great Britain, has a perfectly metallic appearance, and crystallizes in cubes, octahedrons, and other secondary forms ; but it is more frequently 33 massive, with very distinct and bright cleavages, parallel to the faces of the cube, its primitive form (Fig. 36.) It is frequently called Galena: a variety of this, Slickensides, causes some alarm to the miners Avhen they discover it, on ac- count of its liability to explode if it be scratched. There are brilliant colourless crystals on some of these specimens, which so much resemble the Diamond in the intensity of 57 their lustre, that, were they not so soft, they would supersede every other imita- tion of that valuable gem: they are car- bonate of Lead, from the Lead hills in Scotland, so named from the mines they contain. Thechromate of Lead (Fig. 37,) which is peculiar to a Gold-mine of Si- beria, is crystallized, and its orange-red colour is rather remarkable : when bruised, the powder is of a deep rich yellow; in fact, it is the same composition as the artificial Chrome yellow. The phosphate of Lead is green, and often has a velvety MINERALOGY. 81 appearance, similar to that of the radiated carbonate of Copper; but you will not be liable to mistake them, if you bear in mind, that the colour of the Lead ore is so much more yellow than that of the Copper. You would probably imagine the yellow part of this specimen to be a fragment of Mica: it is the sulphuret of Arsenic, called Orpiment. Nothing can be more beautiful than die mixture of this golden Micaceous substance with the red variety, which is granular, or crystallized. Arsenic is most com- monly known in the form of white powder, which is an oxyde artificially prepared. By the application of heat, the Sulphur burns away with a blue flame, and the Arsenic is volatilized. INFLAMMABLE MINERALS. Sulphur is, of course, arranged in the Inflammable class: it is of two kinds, native and volcanic; they are both, usually, semi- transparent, and may be distinguished by the difference of their colour : native Sulphur is of a full bright yellow, and sometimes crystallized ; the volcanic kind is deep orange, and often prettily contrasted with groupes of white crystals, which are sul- phate of STRONTIA (Fig. 38.) The principal part of the Sulphur which is consumed in the European manufactures, is obtained from a remarkable natural deposit at Solfatara, near Naples ; but the most beautiful crystallized specimens are found in Spain. At the beginning of the Carbonaceous genus, is placed the Diamond; certainly not from its external resemblance to the Coal family, but because it is known to be Carbon in its purest state. In hardness, the Diamond exceeds all known substances; and on this account, probably, it was so highly valued by the ancients; although they were unacquainted with the manner of cutting and polishing it. There is, in the British 3Iuseum, an antique Diamond ring, probably of Roman workmanship; the setting is of pure Gold, and the Diamond a natural octahedral crystal, rather elon- gated. It is not, however, brilliant ; although some crystals exhibit surfaces as resplendently bright as the faces of cut ones. Even in the eighth century, the art of cutting Diamonds, which was practised in the East at a very early period, appears to have been unknown in Europe; for the clasp, which ornamented the imperial mantle of Charlemagne, and is still preserved in Paris, contains four rough Diamonds. 82 MINERALOGY. The crystals of the Diamond are somewhat peculiar: they are always unattached, and the surfaces have most frequently a tendency to convexity. The dodecahedron, of which the faces are divided into four triangles, slightly convex, and the octahedron having edges replaced by narrow convex planes, are forms very frequently met with; particularly among the Bra- zilian Diamonds (Fig. 39.) They are occasionally found quite spherical, with a slightly crinkled sur- face : this form appears to be the result of a confused or imperfect crystallization; for the round Diamonds are not cleavable, while the crystalline ones may readily be split in four directions, parallel to the planes of the octa- hedron, their primitive form : for this reason the Diamond-cutters consider the round ones to be harder than the others, and call them Iron Diamonds. India, the first known repository of this precious gem, has produced all the finest Diamonds at present known in Europe, which are remarkable for their size. The very superb one in the sceptre of the Emperor of Russia, which is said to be perfectly clear, and as large as a pigeon's egg, was once the eye of a Brah- minical idol, from which it was stolen by a French soldier. After passing through other hands, it was purchased by the Empress Catharine, for the enormous sum of ninety thousand pounds, ready money, an annuity of about four thousand pounds, and a title of nobility! Its weight is said to be one hundred and ninety- five carats. It may be proper here to observe, that the weight of Diamonds is generally estimated by the carat, which is equal to three grains and two-fifths, troy. The Diamond-merchants, how- ever, call the quarter of a carat, one grain diamond weight. The Pitt, or Regent Diamond, now among the crown jewels of France, was purchased, in a rough state, by Mr. Pitt, the Go- vernor of Bencooleri: it then weighed four hundred and ten carats; after cutting, it weighed one hundred and thirty-six carats and a quarter; and was sold for one hundred and thirty-five thousand pounds. Three thousand pounds are said to have been expended in cutting and polishing it; a process which occupied above two years: it is perfectly colourless; and, from its size, proportions, and purity, is considered the finest Diamond in Europe. According to the usual rules for estimating the price of Diamonds, it was, in 1791, valued by a committee of jewellers, at upwards of four hundred thousand pounds. The large yellow Diamond, in the possession of the Emperor MINERALOGY. 83 of Austria, deserves notice, as being the largest of that colour at present known: its weight is above one hundred and thirty-nine carats. Its surface is very large, being cut, in what is termed, the rose fashion. Governor Hastings brought from India a magnificent Diamond, of the weight of one hundred and one carats, which made a superb brilliant. It was presented to her late Majesty, Queen Charlotte. It is not known to every one, that Diamonds are found in the island of Borneo; they are not, however, so much valued as the Brazilian stones, being generally of a dark colour. Many authors have asserted, that the Diamond has the singular property of shining in the dark ; and we dare say one authority, at least, will occur to our readers: we allude to the story of Saad and Saadi, in the " Arabian Nights." Notwithstanding which, the fact is, we believe, still disputed ; or, at least, the property is believed to exist only in particular specimens. Diamonds are found in the beds of certain streams of Golconda and Brazil, in detached crystals, or grains, intermixed with Sand and Quartz Pebbles; but very rarely indeed imbedded in any rock. There is but one species of Diamond : it stands alone in hardness and in brilliancy ; in value, it has been always allowed a superiority over every other stone. Coal is a combination of Carbon, earthy matter, and Bitumen, which is a black substance, generally oozing, in a liquid state, from beds of Coal: but sometimes so much indurated as to be solid, and either brittle, or soft and elastic. Naphtha, which may be distilled from it, also occurs naturally, flowing through sandy soils, or floating on streams of water. Black Lead, more properly called Plumbago, is nearly pure Carbon, and, therefore placed in this class, though its lustre is almost Metallic. A kind of Coal, containing very little Bitumen, and looking much like cinder, is called Mineral Charcoal. Before we conclude, a few hints, as to forming a collection of minerals, will, we doubt not, prove acceptable. The young natu- ralist is recommended to begin with a moderate-sized cabinet, such as will contain eight or ten drawers, about two inches in depth, and one still deeper, at the bottom, for large specimens. If it be thought desirable to purchase ;i small arranged collection, the cabinet should be considerably larger than sufficient to contain it, in order to leave room for additions. The minerals should be placed in card trays, about half, or three quarters, of an inch deep ; 84 MINERALOGY. and empty trays, with the names of such substances as the collec- tion does not contain, should supply their places until procured. Minerals are sometimes laid on jeweller's cotton; but it is not a good plan, because the cotton is apt to become entangled in the crystals, or other minute parts of the specimens. If they are so tender as to require some soft substance in the trays, the cotton should be covered with tissue-paper. They may thus be conve- niently examined, without being actually handled, which is very injurious to many minerals, and particularly to the fractured surfaces, which are often characteristic of the substance. It is true, that there are many minerals which may be washed with im- punity, and even brushed with soap and warm water (taking care to rinse them well afterwards,) such as most of the Quartz family, the Fluor Spar, Heavy Spar, and many others; but there are others, such as the Micas, Salts, and many of the more delicate ores, which would be destroyed by such a proceeding. Several, however, would bear dusting with a very soft brush. Specimens of Sulphur are better preserved by baking them for a few hours in a moderately-heated oven, than by any other method. CONCHOLOGY. i A brook, with banks of shells, flowed through the grot; And oft the deer, amid the noontide heat, Trooping, to lave their lips in that cool stream, Were startled by the student and her lamp. g^ ROUD as the botanist may be of the Lily, and the mineralogist of the Diamond, the Pearl, " that jewel of the sea," although it does not possess the delicious odour of the flower, nor the splendid brilliance of the gem, has beauties peculiar to itself; which, in the opinion of many, entitle it to an equal rank with either of them. Pearls are familiar to the eyes of most of our readers ; all of whom have seen, and many of whom have worn them as ornaments. Some of their work-boxes are inlaid with Mother-o'-Pearl, or their silk-winders made of the same material. The Pearl is, doubtless, a favourite with our young friends, and we imagine that we shall be more likely to attract their notice, and secure their attention, at the outset of our article on Conchology, by adverting to an object familiar as it is beau- tiful, than if we began by describing the various shells with which the uncivilized female of " some far-distant island " decorates herself, at her rude toilet in a wicker canoe, the Cowries, circu- lated by the Africans as cash, or even the Scallop, worn by the pilgrims of olden times. Pearls are of considerable importance in a commercial point of view; and, we need scarcely mention, 86 COXCHOLOGY. exceedingly valuable when fine. A great number of persons are employed about the coasts of Ceylon and China, in obtaining the shells which produce them. They are formed from a deposition of the substance destined to line the shell, upon sand, fragments of shell, or other matter that has been, either accidentally, or pur- posely, introduced within the mantle of the animal, or through a hole in the valve. The best Oriental Pearls are found in Avicula Margaritifera. The shell itself is the Mother-o'-Pearl used for inlaying, &c. Those fine ornaments, the Cameos, are frequently formed of shells of different colours. Knife-handles, and a number of ele- gant ornaments, are made of the Tridacha Gigas. That celebrated ancient dye, the Tynan purple, was obtained from a kind of Whelk (Purpura Lapillus;) and, without multiplying instances, suffice it that we acquaint, or remind, our readers, that shells have, for ages past, supplied mankind with numerous ornaments, and many useful articles. One very general employment of shells is gone out of fashion ; but we should like to see it revived among our juvenile friends: we allude to the imitation of flowers with shells. The stems may be made of twigs, or of wire covered with silk. The shells should be selected with taste, pressed into wax forms, or fastened on with gum arabic mixed with white starch powder, so as to resemble a natural flower. Shells suited to the purpose, are commonly imported from the West-Indian islands. Another, and more important use of shells, is the embellishment of grottos. In the adoption of shells for this purpose, either on a large or small scale, more attention should be paid to Nature than is usually done; thus: if a hut or cavern is to be imitated^ the materials should be consistent with the scenery around it* A rustic hut, made of rugged trunks, or branches of trees, should be placed in a wilderness, which may be supposed to furnish such, and no better, materials: it should be enriched with land shells; or, if a spring be constructed near it, river shells may be added, all disposed in forms, apparently unstudied, fill- ing crevices, crowning natural projections, or grouped in careless clusters. Shells, fit for such a purpose, may be found in almost every hedge and stream. For a cavern, the place chosen should be either among rocks, or upon uneven rising ground, well covered with underwood; in the former case, a view of the sea will greatly improve the beauty of the design. Shells, placed in small clusters, may mark the approach to the cavern ; little projections, or hollows, in its immediate vicinity, may also support, or contain, either CONCHOLOGY. 87 single shells or groupes, the largest and plainest being selected for such situations; the cavern itself, if constructed with a very uneven surface, will afford shelter for the most gaudy or delicate kinds, which may here be lavished in the greatest profusion. As the whole must look like the work of an untaught admirer of Nature, or one unprovided with tools, the shells should appear to be supported by each other, or by fragments of rock, coral, or sticks; and by no means be so arranged that without cement they would naturally fall; neither should their supports, especially if made of wood, seem placed in the positions they occupy, for no other purpose than to hold up the shells. The same observations will apply to small grottos. Rocks or turf may be well imitated by rough cork, glued and pinned together, painted or covered with moss. Small-leaved evergreens and moss will also serve for the vegetable scenery; glass, for water; and a painted landscape, or sea view, may fill the back ground. It will conduce much to the beauty of the grotto, to groupe many shells of a colour, and to avoid great contrasts. Light colours suit best in the centres of masses, and dark ones in retired situations. Much taste may be displayed in the disposition of shells, when used for these purposes. Temples, houses, or human figures, covered with shells, however gaudy or grotesque they may appear, are both unnatural and in- elegant. The animals of different tribes of shells are destined to perform various offices; such as to remove and change the character of dead, or dying, organized matters; to check a superabundant in- crease of other small animals and vegetables; or to supply food for some of those larger animals which are not formed to live upon vegetables. Some families of shells even live upon others. To perform their several functions, we find them placed in the sea, in fresh water, and on the land. The greater number of those upon land, which are all Univalved (or composed of one piece,) feed upon vegetables; and a few, on dead animal matter. A small number of fresh-water shells are, also, Univalved: the animals of these, and also of such marine Univalves as have no notch at the base of the aperture, feed on vegetables, or gelatinous polipes, which they bite, or collect, by means of a horny upper jaw, in the same manner as the animals living in land shells. The carnivorous animals of Univalved shells, are those which have a notch, or canal, at the base of the aperture: by means of a mouth that terminates a tube of variable length, and is surrounded with minute teeth, they bore, with a cir- cular motion, through the shells of such animals, chiefly BIVALVES, 8 88 COXCHOLOGV. as are destined for their prey ; they are all marine. The BIVALVES generally feed on polypes, or the soft animal substances that float in their way. For the two first offices assigned to them, the ani- mals of shells are but feeble agents. As food for other creatures, they are of great importance; being exceedingly prolific, and so defended by Nature, as to be the most delicious food to particular animals, whose stomachs are fitted for the reception of them, or to such as arc especially endowed with skill enough to deprive them of their shells. They form the principal support of some birds, and many fishes. It is almost superfluous to mention, that the animals of several shells, such as the Oyster, the Mussel, the Scallop, kc. afford food for man. The Common Snail (Helix horticola,) and the Apple Snail (Helix pomatia,) when boiled in milk, are said to afford a light and strengthening diet for invalids. The Solen is eaten in Scotland ; and most of the shell-fish that live in the sea, may be safely eaten, if fresh; such, on the con- trary, as are found in fresh water, are not palatable. But it is now time for us to become a little more scientifically instructive. We shall begin our pleasant task by describing the material of shells, and the purposes for which they are constructed. Shells are hard cases formed of carbonate of lime, strengthened by gluten, to contain, support, and protect certain soft animals, to which they are united, and that have no internal bones. Shells are constructed by their inhabitants (if animals contained in cases, which are essentially parts of themselves, can be called inhabi- tants,) of a deposition from their mantles (or thick, soft, compound membranes that inclose their bodies.) As the form of the animal, or its mantle, varies, so, also, does that of the shell; a certain form or part in one, always indicating a corresponding form or part in the other; therefore, by the knowledge of a few of the animals and their shells, we are enabled to conceive some idea of the inhabitants of other .-hells; and it is thus we discover, that there are three principal forms, or classes, of animals ; the indi- viduals of which, generally possess shells, properly so called in the restricted sense of the word. The classes are: 1. CIRRI! KDKS. 2. CONCIUKI:KA. 3. MOI.I.I The forms of the shells in these classes are so materially dif- ferent, that we shall explain the terms used to describe each class separately, and follow these observations with a slight notice of some of the genera. CONCHOLOGY. 89 CIRRIPEDES. The first class of animals that are covered by shells, CIRRI- PEDES, is so named, in consequence of the individuals, composing the class, having certain peculiar, curled, hairy appendages, that answer the purpose of arms: it is divided into two orders. The shells of the first order, SESSILE (or stemless,) are of a more or less conical form, and composed of a various number of segments arranged as a short tube (Fig. 1, a,) which is attached by its base (6) to other shells, or stones, and closed by an operculum (lid, or door, c,) consisting, generally, of four valves (shown detached in the figure, , that float in the sea. 90 CONCHOLOGY. CONCHIFERA. The second class of animals included in shells, is the CON- CHIFERA; all of which have, at least, two conspicuous valves, or portions, that, with very few exceptions, are united by a hinge to each other; whence the expressive, and sufficiently expressive term, BIVALVES. Their manners and powers are various, the natural consequences of a great diversity of forms, as well in their shells as in themselves ; arid they are scarcely more numerous than they are beautiful, both in fresh and salt water. Before we detail some of the many genera of Bivalve shells, it will be necessary to enter into an explanation of the terms used in describing them: vve shall do this as briefly as we can, and, at the same time, make such allusions to the form and parts of the animals, as will show the dependence of the shells and animals upon 5 each other. A Bivalve shell is essentially com- posed of two valves (Fig. 5, a, 6,)united by the hinge ligament (c) ; on each side of which is a more or less curved eminence placed before it, and called the beaks (Fig. 6, of): from these the shells increase in size. That part of the margin, near which the mouth of the animal is placed, is the anterior margin, or side (e) ; the opposite is the posterior margin, side, or extremity (/) ; between the posterior margin and the beaks, is the hinge slope and line (Fig. 6, g-) ; and opposed to the beaks is the base (h): the hinge slope is situated over the back of the animal, parallel to which would, of course, be the front (A,) as the base is sometimes called, particularly in Oysters (Fig. 9,) and such as have no foot or instrument adapted to locomotion. The middle of each valve is called its disk (Figs. 5 and 6, f.) As the two valves hang down on each side the animal from the hinge or beak, the position of the mouth, or anterior margin, determines which is the right valve (a,) and which the left (6): the flat valve of an Oyster-shell is, consequently, the right valve, the mouth being near the hinge at (a, Fig. 9,) where the animal is shown in the flat valve. The length is measured from the beaks to the base (Figs. 6 and 9, d, h,) and the width, from the anterior to the posterior margin (c, f.) The united depth of the valves is mea- sured from the most prominent part of the disk of one valve to the CONCHOLOGY. 91 corresponding part of the other, when they are closed ; and the shell is either compressed, convex, or gibbose (much swollen,) in proportion as this measure is small or great: it is said to be equal- valved when both valves are alike; and unequal-valved, when one is deeper than the other. A Bivalve is equi-lateral, or equal-sided, when the distances from the beaks to the anterior and posterior margins are equal; when one exceeds the other, it is said to be inequi-lateral, or unequal-sided. Some shells have a flattisli, heart-shaped space, marked out under the beaks, upon the anterior side, by an impressed line; this is the lunette (Fig. 7, a) : others have angular projections on one or both sides of the beaks, which are termed ears (Fig. 8, a.) The surfaces, or disks, are rough, or smooth, or ornamented with striae (fine lines,) furrows, ridges, or ribs: these are either con- centric, when parallel to the margin, longitudinal, when perpendicular to it, or oblique, when between the two: the lines of growth are always concentric. The surface is, also, decorated with scales and spines, besides a great variety of colours, variously and very elegantly disposed. Some of the animals of this class have additional accessory valves, generally very slender, placed upon their backs, either before or behind the beaks; and some form shelly tubes, that inclose them entirely, valves and all: most of them are covered with a membranous epidermis (or skin.) Thus far we have only touched upon the outsides of Bivalve shells; their insides contain a few parts highly essential in dis- tinguishing the genera from each other. The surfaces to which the ligament is attached, are generally external, upon a raised part of the margin of each valve, called the fulcrum; but some- times, as in Oysters, the ligament is internal, or within the beaks; it is then seated in the hinge-pit (Fig. 9, d) : in others, the two parts, of which the ligament is composed, are separated; one part being internal, in a pit; the other, external and marginal: near this are frequently several teeth; and, sometimes, at a little distance along the margin, other, remote, lateral (or side) teeth. The teeth of the two valves lock into each other, and serve to steady them. It is necessary, for the purpose of explaining a few marks within the shells, to give a slight description of the animals which they contain. For illustration we select the Oyster and the Mussel. An Oyster, when lying on the right, or flat valve, as it is generally 8* CONCHOLOGY. exhibited (Fig. 9,) shows the following parts: the Lody (6); the mantle, composed of two lobes (c) ; the muscle and its t. m!eing internal shells, they have no epidermis) ; he then forms a new whorl, con- cealing the part he has ihinncd; thus preserving a very light internal spire, and producing a case sufficiently strong for his support. The mantle of the animal is formed of two lobes, that meet in a line upon the back of the shell. Oliva, or the Olive (Fig. 90,) is an oval internal shell, with a more or less produced spire; the aperture is lon- gitudinal, with a sinus at its base, and a narrow canal continued from its upper angle, around the sutures of the whorls of the spire. Conus, a Cone (Fig. 91,) is the first genus of shells in point of pecuniary value; and, certainly very handsome. The form is a reversed cone, or something approaching it, the apex of the spire being the centre of the base of the cone ; the aperture is narrow, with parallel sides, and a deep sinus at its upper part: the animal has a small horny operculum, and many species have a strong rough epidermis. Here we end our selection of genera from that group of shells, whose animals, having a head with tentaculae and eyes, bear a great resemblance to the Slug. The species comprised in these genera are very numerous; many of them are beautiful; others are remarkable for their grotesque forms, or peculiar habits; and a few for their great size. The CEPHALOPODOUS MOLLUSCA will next engage our atten- tion : they are divided into two sections ; the first alone comes within our province, for the second contains only various tribes of Cuttle- fish that have internal cartilages, or bones, but no shells. The shells of the animals of the first section are all chambered ; that is, have a large portion of the interior divided into cells by septa; by far the greater number of them are either Fossil (or petrified) shells, or very minute. We shall con- fine our remarks to two recent genera: Spirula and Nautilus. The first (Fig. 92) is a regular discoid volute, whose whorls do not touch each other; the septa are concave on the side towards the aperture, and penetrated by a tube, called the siphuncle, which is placed close to the inner edge of the aperture, or back of each whorl. There is but one species known (S. Peronii) : it has a thin epidermis; the COXCHOLOGY. 109 septa are brilliant pearl ; and the apex is surmounted with a globose pullus. The animal (Fig. 92, a) is much larger than the shell, which it embraces by two lobes of the mantle; the chambers serve as air-vessels to keep the animal buoyant. The Nautilus (Fig. 93) has a more or less ventricose, discoid shell: the whorls are internal, and there is no proper spire ; for the apex is placed in the centre of the columella, or axis, around which the whorls curve, embracing each other in succes- sion, and thus forming a disk, whose two sides are alike. The septa are perforated in their centres by a siphuncle, in part membranous, and in part shelly; the edges of the septa are entire, not sinuated, or crisped, as in the fossil genus, called Ammonites. The animal is not well-known; but has been described as a kind of Cuttle-fish, that swims upon the surface of the ocean, using its arms as oars, or sails. The last order we have to treat of, is the HETEROPODOUSMOL- LUSCA. Hitherto, only one genus of shells, Carinaria, has been placed in it; but such is the resemblance that Argonauta, or the Paper Sailor (Fig. 94, a,) bears to Carinaria (Fig. 95, &,) that we shall consider it under the same order. The Argonauta is a thin brittle shell; it is discoid, approaching to semi-circular; its sides similar; the margin flat, with a row of teeth on each edge of it ; the aperture is very large, oblong, trun- cate at the front to correspond with the margin, and receiving, at its opposite end, or back, the involved irregular apex. The animal is un- known; but Ocythoe (Fig. 94, &,) a kind of Cuttle-fish with eight arms, of which two have broad membranous expansions at their ends, takes possession of the shell as a protection for its spawn, over which it broods ; and has, for ages, been described as the fabricator of the shell. From very ancient times we have had lively descriptions of the little prototype of the ship Argo, dexterously spreading his sails, and plying his oars, as he floats, in tranquil enjoyment, upon the bosom of his native element, beneath a serene sky ; and ready, upon the approach of danger, 110 CONCHOLOGY. to sink deep into an unfathomable ocean. Such a description may possibly apply to the Ocythoe; but we very much doubt whether it has ever been seen with any part voluntarily placed above the surface of the water: the real animal, as we before observed, is, as yet, unknown in England. The Carinaria, or Glassy Nautilus (Fig. 95, a, 6,) is a transparent, conical shell, witli flattened sides ; near the summit is formed a small discoid volution, containing the apex; the oblong aperture occupies the base. One species, Cariouia vitrea (6,) is extremely rare; for which reason, joined to its beauty, and the important rank it holds in the system, it is of high price, and is but seldom offered for sale. A serrated keel rises up its front, and its sides are decorated with ribs parallel to the base. We shall close our detail of the genera of shells, by mentioning Serpula (Fig. 95, c,) a common kind of worm -shell ; it is formed by an animal, whose body is long; composed of joints; furnished on each side with tubercles supporting bristles, that serve as feet; and breathing by means of feathered branchiae, of a fan shape, placed round the mouth. This shell belongs to the class entitled ANNELIDES; of which, with two or three other analogous genera, it forms the last family, and is placed immediately before the ClRRIPEDES. Shells verify, in a remarkable degree, the observation so gene- rally made, while regarding the arrangement of animated Nature upon the surface of the globe: they are found to be more nume- rous, larger, higher and more variously coloured, formed of more parts, and bounded by less simple lines, in the vicinity of the tropics than near the poles, especially the north. Some genera are to be found in every climate; others only in the warmer regions. Thus we find some small species of Balanus and Anatifer upon the British coast, attached to rocks and sea-weeds; while larger species, that have, unfortunately, fixed themselves to the bottoms of ships, during their stay upon the coasts of Africa, or the West Indies, are killed by a change of climate, when the ships arrive in the British channel. The Cyclades of the Thames, and North-American lakes, are small, fragile shells; while those of China, and the interior of India, are large and heavy. T^he Watering-pot of Java, and Clavagella of Port Jackson, have no- thing resembling them in colder climates: their forms are very remarkable. The greater number of species of the genera, Pholati, Solen, Mya, Unio, Anomia, and some other CONCHIFERA, are pe- culiar to cold climates. Pandora, Pinna, Spondylus, Chama, &c. CONCHOLOGY. 1 1 1 are most numerous in temperate regions ; the Spondyli and Chamae of the Torrid Zone are, however, remarkable for their splendid colours. Trigonia is peculiar to Australia. Tridacna and Placuna are only to be met with in the Indian Seas. Among the UNIVALVES we may notice the genera of small shells, Clausilia and Limnea, as being confined to temperate, cr cold climates ; and Hyalea, Anostoma, Achatina, Auricula, Ampullaria, Janthina, Pteroceras, Cassis, Monoceras, Harpa, Dolium, Oliva, Conus, Argonauta, and Carinaria, among those that only live in the warmer latitudes. The Nautilus, also, with its chambered shell, is confined to the tropical seas, where the dead shells float in large flocks : naturalists consider them to be pelagian shells, or living only in deep water. The only shells at all similar in our climate, are minute internal appendages of CEPHALOPODOUS MOLLUSCA, very various in form, and found among sand upon the sea-shore, wherever shells and sea-weeds abound. Many of the Volutae are most abundant on the shores of the South-Sea Islands, and rarely found elsewhere. Most of the other genera have their species widely dispersed; the showy and large ones swarm in the neighbourhood of the tropics ; among rocks and coral reefs ; in the sea ; in rivers and lakes ; or in moist situations, on land. Among our British shells, the handsomest are Pecten opercu- laris (Fig. 8,) so commonly used for pincushions, &c. and Pecten maximus, or the Common Scallop ; they may be reckoned an ex- ception to the general rule, as they are among the largest and gayest of the genus: they abound on the southern shores. The kind of Mussel that produces British Pearls (Unio margaritifera) is found in the rivers of Wales and Scotland: its pearls are nearly equal to Oriental ones, and tempted Caesar to repeat his visit to England. As a further illustration of the situations in which shells- may be found, we add a list of those we have figured, with their localities: 1. Balaiius Tintinnahulnm Upon ships, and among corals, in warm latitudes. 2. Anatifer lads Attached to rocks or floating bodies, in the Atlantic Ocean. 3. TuKcinelln Bal^ru.n j ^ ^ ^ of w . Q 4. Coronula Balienuris ) 5. and 6. Unio ovalis Rivers in Europe; as the New River. 7. Venus GallinaSe&, England and Ireland. 8. Pecten operculari* Distant from the shore, in Kent and Sussex. 9. Oitrea edulls Muddy banks, at the mouths of rivers. 10. Mytilus edulis Stony shore, at the mouths of rivers. 11 . Mi/a trunca'a Sandy shore, on the co:ist of Kent. 12. Venus GallwaSea, England and Ireland. 10 112 CONCHOLOGY. 13. Cyclaa rivicola The Thume >, above Westminster-bridge. 14. Aspergillum Javanum Sand, on the const of Java. 15. Clavagella australis Sandy shore, at I'ort Jackson. 16. Gastrochana cuneiforntis In coruls, Isle of France. 17. Teredo navalisla piles, on the coast of Kent. 18. Pholas Dactylua Chalk rocks, at Margate. 19. Solen marginatus Sand, on the coast of Scotland. 20. Mya truncataSimd, on the English coast. 21. Mactra Stultorum English coast. 22. Corbula nucleus Among sea-weeds, at Tenby. 23. Pandora rostrata Coast of Normandy. 24. Petricola la/nellosa Lime-stone rocks, in the Mediterranean. '2~). Tellina radiata Sea, round the West-Indian Islands. 26. Venus GaWiuiXvA, England and IruUuid. 27. Cardium ednlc Sandy shores of Kent. 28. Area Noe Coral reefs in the Isle of Franco. 29. Trigonia margaritaccal'ort Jackson, New South Wales. 30. ClMina. Lazarus Coral rocks, in the West Indies. 31 . JEtheria tub; f era Rivers of Africa. 32. Tridacna Gigas Indian Ocean. 33. Pinna pectinata Sandy ground, among the South-Sea Islands. 34. Avicula macroptera Rocks, in the South Seas* 3.5. Malleus vuigaris Rocks, in the Indian Ocean. 36. Sjiondylus Gccderopus Among corals, iu the Mediterranean. 37. Anomia Epliippium Upon Oysters. 36. P lacuna Placenta Coast of China. 39. Terebratula vitrea Hanging to rocks, in the Mediterranean. 40. Terebratula dorsataSir&ils of Magellan. 41. Limax cinereus Fields and Gardens, in England. 42. Hyalea tridentata Atlantic Ocean. 43. Chiton squamosus Rocks, in the Mediterranean. 44. Patella Clcalandi Rocks, on the coast of Ireland. 43, Fitssurella Grceca Rocks, on the coast of Europe. 46. Biilta Ainpnlla Among sea-weeds, India. 47. a. Helix Horticola Gardens, in England. 47. b. Helix Porto b'ttHctincc Land, in 1'orto Sancto. 48. Testacella A/aw-ci Tunerilli: : feeds upon earth-worms. 49. Anoitoma rin-f,-,,* Woods, in India. 50. Clausilia Mactucartwi* Woods, in Hungary. 51. Ar/tntina Zebra L,a.nil, in Jamaica. 52. Auricula Midce Land, in the Molucca Islands. 53. Limnea Peregfa -Ponds and ditches, in England. 54. Limnea stagnalislonds, in England. 55. Ainpitllaria efusa Rivers of South America. 5'j.a.Atnpul/aria dit/na Rivers of South America. 56. Neritapcleronta Sea-shore, in the West Indian Islands. 57. Neritina strigillata Rivers of South America. 58. JanthinafragilisFloal'nis on the Atlantic; 59. Haliotis tuberculataGwrnsey, upon sub-marine rocks. The ai food, and the shells to ornament the outsides of houses. 60. Dentalium entalitt Seashore, England. 61. Vermetus lumbricalis Amnn.^ corals. Senegal, te. Sea/aria pretiota Seas, about China. 63. Solarium perspectivum Indian > 64. Trochus ziziphinus Sea-shore, Kent. 65. Turbo littoreus Sea-shore, England. CONCHOLOGY. 113 66. Turritella Terebra Southern shores, England. 67. Cerithium asperum Among sea-weeds, the Isle of France. 68. Pleurotoma Babylonia Sea, among the Molucca Isles. 69. Turbinella Pyrum Shores of the Indian Seas. 70. Pyrula reticulata Shores of the Molucca Isles. 71 . Ranella crumena Indian Seas. 72. Murex ramosus South Seas. 73. Triton variegatus South Seas. 74. Pteroceras chiragra Indian Seas. 75. Strombus Gigas Shores of the West-Indian Islands. 76. Cassis flammea Indian Ocean. 77. Purpura Lapillus Rocks, upon the shores of England. 78. Monoceras imbricatum Straits of Magellan. 79. Harpaventricosa Seas of China. 80. Dolium maculatum Indian Ocean. 81. Buccinum undatum Round the English coast. 82. Terebra maculata South Seas. 83. Colitmbella Mercatoria Shores of Africa. 84 a. Mitra Papalis Indian Ocean. 84 b. Mitra Episcopalis Indian Ocean.. 85. Valuta Musica Shores of the West-Indian Islands. 86. Cymba Cymbium Western shores of Africa. The animal is eaten by the negroes. 87. Melo umbilicatus Persian Gulf. 88 a. Ooula Ovum South Seas. 886. Ovula Volvo Caribbee Islands. 89. Cyprcea Mappa Indian Ocean. 90. Oliva ispidula Indian Ocean. 91 . Conug fustigatua Coast of Madeira. 92. Spirula Peronii South Seas. 93. Nautilus Pompiliits Floating on the Atlantic, between the Tropics. 94. Argonauta Argo Mediterranean Sea. 95 a. Carinariafragilis Atlantic Ocean. 956. Carinaria vitrea South Seas. 96. Serpula vermicularis, and S, triquetra English shores, upon stones and shells. To procure shetts in their native situations is by no means difficult: they may be picked up in hedges, and on banks; drawn out of ponds and rivers, along with weeds; collected on the sea-shore, or among rocks; or they may be found among the refuse, irt fishermen's nets. To obtain an extensive collection in this way, would, however, require much time and travelling, or the kind aid of many friends; enough, however, to illustrate the classes, orders, and many of the families, may be thus easily assembled, and afford much practical instruction. We recommend such a commencement before recourse be had to the more usual mode of obtaining a collection ; namely, that of purchase. If tho latter means be resorted to, the buyer should be satisfied that each shell is perfect and full grown, and, if only one of the kind lie selected, well-coloured, and as much in its natural state as a freedom from foreign matters will permit: all degrees of artificial 114 CONCKOLOGY. polish, or form, should be considered as blemishes; except in articles of ornament. The size should be suited, as nearly as possible, to that of the purchaser's cabinet. It will be found of advantage to the student, to endeavour to fill up her series of families, or genera, before she is anxious about particular species; unless she would confine her collection to some one tribe, which, after she has obtained a little general information, is a good practice. A collection is best kept in small trays, in shallow drawers of equal depth; and such specimens as are too large for the drawers, will form a handsome article of furniture arranged in a glass case. Our reason for recommending drawers of an equal depth, is, that a systematic arrangement may be followed, which would add greatly to the value of any collection, and would be entirely destroyed by having regard to every variation of size. No other care will be requisite, than to exclude the dust, or, occa- sionally, wash the specimens tenderly with soap and water. However dull Conchology may appear on the first glance at its scientific detail, we bog to assure our fair readers, that if they will employ a very brief portion of their time in its study, they will find it to be one of the most engaging branches of natural history. Many fleeting gratifications are daily purchased at an immense cost; while a small annual expenditure will obtain a splendid and interesting series of shells, from which, innocent and increasing pleasures may be derived for years. ENTOMOLOGY. Turn on the prudent Ant thy heedless eyes ; Observe her labours, sluggard, and be wise. NIVERSALLY distributed, or at least, more so than any other part of the animal king- dom, insects are by far the most numerous of all its productions. They are found in the smallest islands; and in tropical climes abound to an astonishing degree: in the colder regions they are less numerous. There is no branch of natural history more within the reach of our readers, than the study and investigation of these " little wonders." This department of science is termed Entomology, and is derived from two Greek words, signifying an insect and a discourse. Insects are so called, because they are divided into numerous segments, and not, as is generally supposed, from their being separated into two parts, which are merely attached to each other by a slender thread. They are further distinguished from other animals, by being invariably furnished with six feet, and a head distinct from their body ; and, also, by breathing through pores situated along the abdominal segments, which conduct to the tracheae, or wind-pipe, for respiration. The head is furnished with a pair of jointed horns, called antennae, which vary in the different families, and frequently afford generic characters. The changes through which the greater number of insects pass, are from the egg to the 10* 116 ENTOMOLOGY. larva, or caterpillar ; from the larva to the pupa, or chrysalis ; and from the pupa to the imago, or perfect state. There are, however, exceptions, some insects being viviparous; but the number of these is small. PARTS OF INSECTS. An insect may be divided into three primary parts, or sections: namely, caput, the head ; truncus, the trunk ; and abdomen, the abdomen. Caput (the head) is the anterior section of the body, and dis- tinguishable in most insects; it contains the organs of sensation. (Fig. 1, represents the head of the common Cockchafer.) Truncus (the trunk, fig. 2,) is the intermediate, or second section of the body, and includes the organs of motion. Abdomen (the abdomen, fig. 3,) is the last, or posterior section of the body, and contains the organ of respiration, &c. i Having thus detailed the three primary sections of an insect, it will be necessary to enumerate such parts of their organization, as will enable the reader to proceed in their investigation, unin- cumbered with technical phrases, or, at least, abridged so much as the subject will allow. The head of insects, as far as is yet known, contains the organs of sense: sight, by eyes generally compound and fixed; smell, probably, by the antennae (horns): taste, by mandibles and maxillae (an upper and lower lip) ; hearing, uncertain; and feeling, by palpi (feelers,) four or six in number, two labial, and two or four maxillary. The eyes, antennae, and the mouth, are contained in the head. With respect to the mouth (os,) insects have been divided into two great sections, or sub-classes: the one, named MANDIBULATA, being furnished with mandible and maxillae, or perfect mouth, as in beetles, &c. (Fig. 14, page 118,) by which they separate and masticate their food; the other, HAUSTELLATA, or those which take their food by suction, having such trophi (or parts of the mouth,) as will penetrate and absord the juice of either animal or vegetable subjects. ENTOMOLOGY. 117 The eyes (oculi) of insects, in general, are of two kinds, simple or compound, and have the appearance of two crescents, or im- moveable caps, composing the greatest part of the head, and containing an infinite number of little hexagonal protuberances, more or less convex, and placed, with the utmost regularity and exactness, in lines crossing each other, and resembling net-work (See Fig. 4, which is a small portion of an eye, highly magnified.) The number of lenses in an eye vary in different insects. Hooke computed those in the eye of the Tabanus, or Horse-fly, to amount to nearly 7,000 ; Leewenhock found in that of the Libellula, or Dragon-fly, 12,544; and 17,325 have been counted in that of a Butterfly: the picture of objects, painted thereon, must be millions of times less, than the images of them pictured on the human eye. Besides the larger eyes which we have above described, many insects have three small spherical bodies, placed triangularly on the crown of the head: these, Linnaeus, from his regarding them as a kind of coronet, called stetnmata? (Fig. 5, a.) They are simple, 5 , r and made for viewing large and distant objects; the other eyes, for small and near ones. Leewenhock looked through the eye of a Dragon-fly (with the help of a mi- croscope,) as a telescope, and viewed the steeple of a church, which was 299 feet high, and 750 feet distant: he could plainly see the steeple, though not apparently larger than the point of a fine needle. He also viewed a house ; and could discern the front, distinguish the doors and windows, and perceive whether they were open or shut. The antennae, or horns, are two articulated moveable processes, placed in the head; they are subject to great variety, and were the parts from which Linnaeus formed his genera. The principal modifications may be referred to the following definitions, which are subject to a further variety of forms, in respect to the comparative length of the joints, their attachment, termination, &c. which the improved state of science has justly brought in view, and are, in a great measure, preferable to the more obscure parts of the mouth, which will be attended, in generic characters, with difficulty to the young student, but will always be of importance to the naturalist, as being, with other characters, the basis of a natural system. The principal forms are as follow: They are setaceous, 118 ENTOMOLOGY. when they gradually taper towards their extremity (Fig. 6) : cla- vated, when they grow gradually thicker from their base (Fig. 7): filiform, when of an equal thickness throughout the whole of their length (Fig. 8): moniliform, when formed of a series of knots resembling a string of beads (Fig. 9): capitate, when they ter- minate in a knob- (Fig. 10) : fissile, when the knob is divided, longitudinally, into lamina?, or plates (Fig. 11): perfoliate, having the knob divided horizontally (Fig. 12) : j>ectinate, having a lon- gitudinal series of hairs, or processes, projecting from them in the form of a comb (Fig. 13.) 13 I Authors do not seem to agree as to the use of the antennas ; but we have every reason to believe, that, in most cases, they contain the organs of smell. For some curious experiments on this subject, see Mr. Samouelle's Entomologist's Useful Compen- dium; pages 22 to 27. The mouth of insects of the first sub-class, MANDIBULATA, is perfect, being furnished with mandibles, &c. (Fig. 14.) There are seven principal parts of the mouth in this section. Labrum, the upper lip, is a transverse, soft, moveable piece, of a coria- ceous, or membranaceous nature, which is known from its situation at the anterior or upper part of the mouth. Fabricius has, in some instances, confounded this with the clypeus, or shield of the head; but these two parts may be distinguished by one invariable character: the clypeus is fixed, and forms a portion of the head; the upper lip is moveable, and is placed more for- ward (Fig. 14, h.) Labium, or lower lip, the piece which termi- nates the mouth beneath, is subject to a variety of forms: it is often bifid (cleft, or divided,) and has the posterior pair of feelers placed at the base (Fig. 15, a, the labial palpi; e, tho labium.) Mandibulae (mandibles,) are two hard pieces, in substance resembling horn, ENTOMOLOGY. 119 placed on each side of the mouth, below the upper lip. These have a lateral, or side motion, while the upper and lower lip move up and down, as in other animals (Fig. 14, d.) They differ from the maxillae, by not having any palpi, or feelers, attached to them. In rapa- cious insects they are longer than in those which perforate wood; and the latter, again, have stronger mandibles than insects which feed only on herbage, or the leaves of plants. Maxillae are two small pieces, generally mem- branaceous, and in figure different from the mandibles. These are not uncommonly indented at the extremity, and nearly all ciliated at the inner edge (as at Fig. 16, a.) They are placed under the mandible, and above the lower lip ; their motion is lateral, and they are generally furnished with palpi. (Fig. 16, 6,c .) Palpi (feelers) are small moveable appendages placed on each side of the mouth. In some instances they resemble the antennae. The most usual number is four, but some few families of insects are furnished with six; they are termed labial (Fig. 15, a) and maxillary (Fig. 16, b, c.) The foregoing are the principal parts of the mouth, or, at least, such as are considered in the generic characters; the modi- fications of which are admirably adapted to the manners and food of insects. It must be remembered, that the above characters properly belong to the MANDIBULATA. We shall now describe those of the second sub-class : HAUSTELLATA, or Sucking Insect. Mr. Kirby, in his valuable Introduction to Entomology, has duly considered these parts, and has made some few deviations from the language of Linnaeus ; but as they will, no doubt, be adopted by future entomologists, we shall briefly give them ; together with their synonyms, in reference to other entomological works. Promusci, or rostrum, of Linnaeus and other authors, is the part which forms the mouth in most of the Heinipterous insects. This instrument is moveable, articulated, and bent under die breast. It is hollow within, and contains, as in a sheath, five very fine and delicate pieces, analogous to the labiuni, mandible, and maxilhv. These unite and form a suctorious tube, which is introduced into the body of the animal, or substance of the plant, from which the insect draws nourishment (Fig. 17, a, head of Penlatoraa; 6, antennas; c, rostrum.) 120 ENTOMOLOGY. Proboscis is a term employed by Linnaeus, and adopted by Fabricius and Latreille, which 3Ir. Kirby still retains, to designate the sheath that contains the trophi of the Dipterous insects; in many of which, the proboscis is terminated by two soft fleshy pieces, forming lips; these, from the delicacy of their ligaments, must possess the faculty of suction to a high degree (Fig. 18, head of Musca tenax; a, antennas; ft, nasus (nose); c, proboscis.) Antilia (suckers) of Kirby, Lingua (tongue) of other authors, is an involuted tubular organ, which constitutes the principal part of the mouth in Lepidopterous insects. This part is generally filiform, and is of moderate length, as in most of the Papilionida? ;^-or long as in most of the Sphingidse: in the Arctiadae, and in other families of this order, it is, apparently, wanting, or much shorter than in the others : in a state of rest, this part is rolled up, spirally, between the palpi. It consists of two filamentous pieces, which are extremely convex, concave within, and connected, longitudinally, by a suture along the middle, above, and beneath. These, in uniting, form a cylinder, through which the farina of flowers, on which the insects subsist, are drawn up with facility. These two pieces are easily separated by a needle (Fig. 19, a, the antenna?; 6, palpi; c, the tongue.) Truncus (the trunk) is the second principal division of an insect. This portion is situated between the head and the abdomen, and is resolvable into two grand segments ; the upper segment is the thorax, and the under one, pcctus, or breast: but as the part is subject to a variety of forms in the different orders, Mr. Kirby and M. La- treille have, with much propriety, modified the terms, and further named those portions ; which will, no doubt, be noticed by future entomological writers. For the present, we shall only consider this part as referred to in generic characters, not wishing to burden the young student with terms which will but seldom lx) quoted. We shall, therefore, confine ourselves to the tho- rax, as considered in the generic character of insects; this will be understood by our dia- grams (Fig. 20, /, the dorsum, or upper part of the thorax, and Fig. 21, a, the pectus, or breast, of Hydrous piceus.) ENTOMOLOGY. 121 The thorax, in those insects which have that part consisting of a single piece, as in the COLEOPTERA, or the first segment, in such as are of a compound nature, has the first pair of legs arising from the lower surface; and it is in this part that the muscles, which move the head, as well as the pair of legs, are contained. The thorax, in different kinds of insects, varies considerably in form, and affords valuable generic and specific characters. Many are armed with spines: others are denticulated (or toothed,) mar- ginated (having a margin,) serrated (toothed like a saw,) &c. The pectus, or breast, or the under part of the thorax, to which the four posterior feet are attached, is longitudinally divided at the anterior part of the sternum (or breast bonej fig. 21, a.) The wings and elytra (wing-cases) are attached to the upper part; the termina- tion contains the gcutellum : these we shall further describe (see Fig. 20, 6, the elytron closed; e, the elytron removed, to show the situation of the wing in a state of rest; d, the head; e, the palpi.) Sternum, or breast-bone, is that portion of the middle part of the breast which is situated between the base of the four posterior legs (Fig. 21, 6.) There are but few insects in which the sternum is remarkable, either from its magnitude or figure. This part is most conspicuous in the Dytici and Hydrophili. Scutellum (the scutel,) is a lobe-like process, situated imme- diately at the posterior part of the thorax, in most insects; but in some few it appears wanting; in general, its form is heart-shaped or sub-triangular. In size, the scutel varies, more than in figure ; in some, it is so small as almost to escape notice; in others, it is very conspicuous; in several species of the HEMIPTERA, the scutel expands over the back, entirely concealing the wings and wing- cases, and covering the margins of the abdomen (Fig. 20, a.) Elytra (the wing-cases,) are two in number, of a substance resembling leather; they are generally moveablej and, in the COLEOPTERA, open by a longitudinal suture along the middle of the back. In some few of this order, the elytra are united; the upper surface is more or less convex, and the lower surface correspondently concave. The texture in several of the Curculionidsfi is so hard, that they are pierced with difficulty ; in others, as in Meloe, they are flexible. The difference in form, and the diversity of their surface, afford both generic and specific characters. The elytron is fully illustrated by the diagram (Fig. 22, elytron of the COLEOPTERA; a, base; 6, shoulder; c, lateral margin; d, apex; e, the longitudinal suture.) ENTOMOLOGY. Alae, or wings, are the organs of flight. These are either two or four; and in the LEPIDOPTERA,HYMENOPTKRA, andDiPTERA, are attached to the lateral part, or side of the breast, close to the lower margin of the thorax. _^ Than inM.-cts which are furnished with only one pair of wings, have, in these organs, both an uni- form appearance and si/.*-. Such as have two pairs, most frequently differ; the first bring larger than those behind (Fig. 23, a, the wings separated ; 6, joined, as in flight.) Halteres, or poisers, are two short, moveable, clavated fila- ments, placed one contiguous to the origin of each wing. They seldom exceed one-tenth of the length of the wing, though in a few genera they are longer. The capital, or head, in which the filament terminates, is subject to a little variation; in some insects its situation is di- rectly under a small, arched, filmy scale, but in several families it is apparently wanting. This organ is peculiar to the Dipterous order of insects (Fig. 24, a, wing; b b, halteres.) Pedes, the legs, in all insects, amount to six, and never exceed that number; and the same is observable of the true feet in the larvae of insects: the latter have spurious feet to a greater amount, but the true feet do not exceed six. From the different conforma- tions of the legs, it is easy to recognise, even in the dead insect, the mode of life which the species is destined, by Nature, to pursue. 25 28 27 28 The legs of insects adapted for running or walking, are long and cylindrical; the thighs of the leapers are remarkably large and thick, with the shank long, and frequently arched; by which means they possess great strength and power for leaping; as in Grasshoppers (Fig. 25.) In those accustomed to dig in the earth, the legs are broad, serrated (or toothed like a saw,) and sharp at tlu- ENTOMOLOGY. 123 edges ; and such as inhabit the water, have the legs, especially the posterior pair, long, flat, and ciliated, or fringed at the edge with hair (Fig. 26, hind, or posterior leg, of Dyticus.) The leg of an insect consists of the following parts: coxa (Fig. 27, a,) the first, or basal joint; 6, femur, the thigh; e, tibia, the shank; d, tarsus, the foot; and e, unguis, the claw. Coxa, a small joint at the base, connects the thigh to the body, and moves in a correspond- ing cavity. There is more diversity in the form of the thigh than the coxa, to which it is united. The articulation of these two parts is internal, and is produced in such a manner, that when the animal is in a state of repose, it is parallel to the inferior surface of the body. The nature and extent of the motions of the thigh appear to determine its form. In those insects which walk much and fly little, as in the Carabi, the thigh has two little prominences at the base, called trochanters, which appear to be intended for removing the muscles from the axis of the articula- tion. Those which require strong muscles adapted for leaping, have the thigh not only thick, but generally elongated; as in Grasshoppers (Fig. 25, 6.) Tibia, the shankj is the third joint of the leg, and moves in an angle, according to the direction of the thigh. The figure of this part depends essentially on the uses to which the habits of the insect require it to be applied. Tarsus (Fig. 27, d,) the foot, is the fourth joint of the leg: it varies in form; and the number of its joints is from one to five. The figure of the tarsi is admirably adapted to the insect's mode of life. The articulations, in such as walk on the surface of the earth, are slender; many of those which inhabit waters, have them flat, and ciliated at the edges (Fig. 26, c.) The abdomen, or third principal division, or posterior part of the body, is connected with the breast, either closely or at a distance, by means of a fillet. The abdomen is composed of annular joints, or segments, the number of which varies in different insects. The upper part of the abdomen is called, by entomologists, tergum ; the inferior, or belly, venter (Fig. 3.) The total movement of the abdomen is not very obvious, except in the StaphylinidsR (Fig. 28,) Forficula, and the Pediculated body of the Hymen- opterous genera. It has then a real joint, in which the first annulation is indented above, and receives a projecting process from the breast, on which it moves. The joint is rendered secure by elastic ligaments, which have a considerable degree of force. Some muscles, which arise within the breast, are inserted into the first ring, and determine the extent of its motions. The partial 11 * 124 ENTOMOLOGY. motion of the ring is produced by very simple muscles, consisting of fibres which extend from the anterior edge of one ring to the posterior edge of that which immediately precedes it. When the dorsal fibres contract, the superior part of the abdomen being shortened, it turns up towards the back ; but when the contraction takes place in the ventral, or lateral fibres, the abdomen is inflected towards the belly, or directed to one of the sides. The extent of the motion, however, depends on the number of the rings and their mode of junction. In the COLEOPTERA, for example, the rings only touch each other by their edges, and the motion is very limited (Fig. 28;) but in the HYMENOPTERA, they are so many small hoops, which are encased, one into another, like the tubes of a telescope ; so that scarcely half, and sometimes not above one- third of their extent appears visible externally. f5f This is attempted to be shown by the irregularity of the darker markings in Fig. 29, a. The abdo- men contains the intestines, the ovary, and part of the organs of respiration ; it is affixed to the thorax ; and, in most insects, distinct from it, forming the posterior part of the body. An appendage of any kind, terminating the abdomen, is usually denominated the tail (cauda.) This appendage varies in figure, considerably, in different insects, and many tribes are totally destitute of it. It is supposed to be destined to direct the motions of the insect in flight, to serve for its defence, and for the deposition of its eggs. In some insects the tail is simple, and yet capable of being extended and withdrawn at pleasure. In others, it is setaceous, or bristle-shaped, as in Rhaphidia. Those termed triseta, have three bristle-shaped appendices, as in Ephe- mera. In some it is forked, as in Podura. When it terminates in a pair of forceps, as in the Earwig, it is called forcipata. In the last segment but one of the tail of Staphylinus, exists two so soft fleshy organs, which secrete an offensive fluid I^^L (Fig. 28, d d); this appendage is termed papilliferous. 4r I* In the Blatta, and others, it is foliosa, or resembling a leaf. In the Panorpa it is furnished with a claw, and is called telifera (Fig. 30.) Aculeus, the sting, is an instrument with which insects wound and instil a poison ; it generally proceeds from the under part of the last ring of the belly: in some, it is sharp and pointed; in others, serrated or barbed. It is used by many insects, both as an offensive or defensive weapon ; by others, only to pierce wood, ENTOMOLOGY. 123 or the bodies of animals, in order to deposit their eggs. In Wasps and Bees the sting is known to be retractile, or withdrawn in a state of rest. In some insects it exists in the male only ; and in others, Nature has provided the female alone with this instrument. It is not frequently met with in both sexes of the same species: the greater number of insects have no such organ. METAMORPHOSES OF INSECTS. Were a naturalist, says Mr. Kirby, to announce to the world the discovery of an animal, which, for the first five years of its life, existed }n the form of a serpent ; which then, penetrating into the earth, and weaving a shroud of pure silk of the finest texture, contracted itself, within this covering, into a body without external mouth or limbs, and resembling, more than anything else, an Egyptian mummy; and which, lastly, after remaining in this , state, without food and without motion, for three years longer, should, at the end of that period, burst its silken cerements, struggle through its earthly covering, and start into day a winged bird: What, think you, would be the sensation excited by the strange piece of intelligence 1 After the first doubts of its truth were dispelled, what astonishment would succeed! Amongst the learned, what surmises ! what investigations ! Amongst the vulgar, what eager curiosity and amazement ! All would be in- terested in the history of such an unheard-of phenomenon ; even the most torpid would flock to the sight of such a prodigy. But, you ask, " To what do all these improbable suppositions tend 1" Simply to rouse your attention to the metamorphoses of this insect world, almost as strange and surprising, to which I am now about to direct your view: miracles which, though scarcely surpassed in singularity by all that poets have feigned, and though actually wrought every day beneath our eyes, are, because of their commonness and the minuteness of the objects, unheeded alike by the ignorant and the learned. That Butterfly, which amuses you with its aerial excursions, while extracting nectar from die tube of the honeysuckle, and then, the very image of fickle- ness, flying to a rose, as if to contrast the hue of its wings with that of the flower on which it reposes, did not come into the world as you now behold it. At its first exclusion from the egg, and for some months of its existence afterwards, it was a worm- like Caterpillar, crawling upon sixteen short legs, greedily devour- ing leaves, with two jaws, and seeing by means of twelve eyes so 126 ENTOMOLOGY. minute as to be nearly imperceptible without the aid of a micro- scope. You now view it furnished with wings capable of rapid and extensive flights. Of its sixteen feet, ten have disappeared, and the remaining six are, in most respects, wholly unlike those to which they have succeeded. Its jaws have vanished, and are replaced by a curled-up proboscis, suited only for sipping liquid sweets. The form of its head is entirely changed : two long horns project from its upper surface; and instead of twelve invisible eyes, you behold two, very large, and composed of at least twenty thousand convex lenses, each supposed to be a distinct and ef- fective eye! The egg, containing the insect in its smallest size, is round, oval, or cylindrical. The shells of some eggs are hard and smooth: those of others are soft and flexible. They vary considerably in colour; some being almost every shade of yellow, green, and brown; a few, red; and others, black. Green and greenish eggs are not unusual; and there are some speckled with darker colours, like those of birds. Many are smooth and highly polished ; others, fluted; and some few are beset, in a pleasing manner, with raised dots. Insects are instructed by Nature to deposit their eggs in situa- tions where their young ones will find the nourishment most convenient for them. Some deposit their eggs in the oak-leaf, producing there the red-gall; others choose the leaf of the poplar, which swells into a red bladder; and to a similar cause may be assigned the knob which is often seen on the leaf of the willow. The Lassiocampa neustria glues its eggs, with great symmetry, in rings, round the smaller twigs of trees: each of these bracelets, as the French gardeners aptly call them, is composed of from two to three hundred pyramidical eggs with flattened tops, having their axis perpendicular to the circumference of the twig to which they are fastened, surrounding it in a series of from fifteen to seventeen close spiral circles, and having their interstices filled up with a tenacious brown gum, which, while it secures them alike from the wintry blast and the attack of voracious insects, serves as a foil to the white enamel of the eggs that it encompasses. It is not easy to conceive how these Moths contrive to accomplish so accurately, with their tail and hind feet, an arrangement which would require the most delicate care from the hands of an artist. Reaumur bred numbers of the fly from the egg, and supplied the females with appropriate twigs ; but the Moths, as though resolved that imprisonment should not force from them the secret of their ENTOMOLOGY. 127 art, laid their eggs at random, and made no attempt to place them symmetrically. All Caterpillars are hatched from the egg ; and, when they first proceed from it, are small and feeble, but acquire strength as they increase in size. The body of the Caterpillar consists of twelve rings ; the head is connected with the first, and is hard and crustaceous. No Caterpillar, of the Moth or Butterfly, has less than eight, or more than sixteen true and other feet ; those which have more than sixteen, belong to some other order of insects. The Caterpillar, whose life is a continued succession of changes, before it attains its full growth, often moults, not merely the skin, but the jaw, and all the exterior parts , both scaly and membranaceous . The change is effected by the creature's withdrawing itself from the outer skin, as from a sheath, when it finds itself incommoded from being confined within too narrow a compass ; but, to accomplish this, is the work of some labour and time. Those Caterpillars which live in society, and have a nest or habitation, retire there to change their skins, fixing the hooks of their feet, during the operation, firmly in the web of their nest. Some of the solitary species spin, at this time, a slender web, to which they affix themselves. A day or two before the critical moment approaches, the insect ceases to eat, and loses its usual activity. In proportion as the time of its change approaches, the colour of the Caterpillar declines in vigour, the skinliardens, becomes withered, and is soon incapable of receiving those circulating juices by which it was before nourished and sup- ported. The insect is seen at intervals with its back elevated, or with the body stretched to the utmost extent; sometimes raising its head, moving it from one side to another, and then letting it faU again. As the change approaches, the second and third rings are considerably swollen. By great internal efforts the old parts are stretched and distended as much as possible: tlirs operation is attended with difficulty, as the new parts are all weak and tender ; but by repeated exertions, all the vessels which conveyed nourish- ment to the exterior skin, are disengaged, and cease to act; and a slit is made on the back, generally beginning at the second or third ring. The new skin may now be just distinguished, on account of its freshness and brightness of colour. The Caterpillar then presses the body, like a wedge, through this opening ; by which means it is soon torn down from the first to the fourth ring, which renders it large enough for the Caterpillar to pass through. The Caterpillar generally fasts a whole day after each moulting ; for it is necessary that the parts should acquire a certain degree of 11 * 128 ENT03IOLOGY. consistency before its organs can perform their ordinary functions. Many perish under this operation. The Caterpillar always appears much larger after it has quitted the exuviae than before ; the body growing under the old skin till it becomes too large for its case; and the parts, which are soft, being much compressed; but as soon as the old skin is quitted, the parts distend, and with them the new skin, which is yet of a flexible and tender texture; so that the increase in the size of the Caterpillar, at each moulting, is very considerable. Some Caterpillars, in changing their skin, alter very much in colour and appearance; sometimes the skin, from being smooth, becomes covered with hair, spines, or tuber- cles ; others, that are in one stage hairy, have the skin smooth in the next. By the pupa state, in the very extensive sense Linneeus proposes, is signified that state of an insect which succeeds the larva, without any regard to the particular appearance it assumes in this period of transformation. From so great a latitude of meaning, it includes, therefore, with equal precision, and no less propriety, states of the most discordant character. It alike im- plies the uncouth grub, incased in its shelly repository, and immured in the earth, sluggish and almost destitute of motion, or the appearance of any animal function, with the lively half-winged Locust, or the Cicada, animals, sporting in the full enjoyment of life. The Bot, imprisoned in its oval covering, without the least external sign of animation, is termed a pupa. The Moth, quiescent, and absent for months, concealed in its shelly covering in the earth, or suspended in its silken envelope to the branch of a tree, is a pupa; and we denominate those, also, which have the wings only half expanded, pupae; though, like the nimble-footed Cimex, they are perpetually roving, and deriving sustenance from the blood of other animals; and so, also, the restless Libellula, which is con- tinually traversing the watery element, with the facility of a fish, in search of its prey. Modern writers have, therefore, considered this state as essential in the formation of orders ; and have even laid down certain rules, which, taken in conjunction with the characters of the perfect insect, are often of great use in ascer- taining the order to which any genus belongs. In our account of the larva, we have given that of the Lepidopterous order; and shall, therefore, describe the pupa of the same. The length of time an insect remains in this form, varies much in different species. As soon as the inclosed animal acquires sufficient strength to break the bonds of its confinement, it makes ENTOMOLOGY. 129 a powerful effort to escape. The opening through which it passes is always at the same part of the skin ; namely, a little above the trunk, between the wings and a small piece which covers the head: different fissures are generally made in the same direction. When the operation begins, there seems to be a violent agitation in the humours contained in the little animal, the fluids being driven with rapidity through all vessels; the limbs and various parts of the body are put in motion ; and, by repeated efforts, it breaks through the brittle skin that envelopes it. Those inclosed in cones, or cases, after bursting through the pupa-covering, have another difficulty to overcome, that of piercing through the in- closure, which, in many instances, is of stronger texture than the case of the pupa. For the accomplishment of this, most insects are provided with a liquor, which they discharge from the mouth upon that part of the cone through which they intend to escape ; and this so moistens and weakens it, that, after a short time, they force their passage through with tolerable facility. Some insects, which are not provided with this fluid, leave one end of their cone weaker than the rest, and close it only with a few threads ; so that a slight effort of the head enables the insect to burst from its prison. The last stage of the life of insects is termed the imago, or per- fect state. The Butterfly, or Moth, on emerging from the pupa, is moist ; die abdomen is swollen ; the antennae are bent down ; and the wings crumpled, small, and shapeless. These parts are gra- dually unfolded, and take their destined forms. The elytra assume their brilliant colours ; the wings expand to their proper size, and assume their various markings ; and what seemed, a few minutes before, but an inanimate half-formed mass, is transformed into an animal decked with the most vivid colours, and rejoicing in its new existence. The operation of expanding their wings, in by far the greater number of insects, occupies only a few minutes ; in some Butterflies half an hour, or an hour; and some species of Sphinx require several hours, or even a day, for this operation. In certain Tipulae and the Ephemera, however, this process is almost instantaneous; and in some species of the latter genus, the insects, after being released from their puparium, and making use of their expanded wings for flight, undergo a slight and further metamorphosis. They fix themselves by their claws, in a vertical position, upon some object ; withdraw every, part of the body, and even the legs and wings, from a thin pellicle which covered them like a glove; and so perfect is the resemblance of 130 ENTOMOLOGY. these exuviae to the insect, that they may, at first sight, be mis- taken for it. When the developement of the perfect insect is thus completed, it immediately begins to exercise its new powers in their destined functions. It walks, runs, or flies in search of food or others of its own species; and so unerring are its intuitive perceptions of the food which is proper, and the protection which it requires, that the new-formed being becomes at once a free denizen of the air; and is immediately capable of distinguishing, with more than botanical skill, the plants and their juices which are necessary for its support. The duration of an insect's life in die imago, or perfect state, is subject to some variations ; but there is not, as in the larger animals, a duration of a medium period, only liable to be shortened by acci- dent or disease, but a conditional one, dependent on the earlier or later fulfilment of a particular function. The general law regard- ing this period among insects, seems to be, that a few days, or, at most, a few weeks, after the deposition of the ova the insects perish. The period for effecting this is longer or shorter, according to the species. Some, as several Ephemerae, live only a few hours, and never enjoy the enlivening light of the sun ; appearing after sun- set, and dropping their ova on the surface of their native waters, they perish before the dawning of another day. Others, as Flies, Moths, Butterflies, and, indeed, the greater part of insects, take a few days, or weeks, 'to accomplish the same purpose. A compara- tively small number, such as some of the larger COLEOPTERA, ORTHOPTERA, &c. exist from six to nine, twelve, and even fifteen months; and some instances have been recorded of particular species, when kept and fed, having their existence prolonged considerably beyond this term; but these are exceptions to the general rule. It is to be further remarked, that insect life seems to follow a different law to that which prevails among vertebrated animals ; in which the duration of existence is generally observed to be in relation to the period of their attaining maturity ; such animals being long or short-lived, in proportion as they attain their full growth in a longer or shorter space of time. Among insects, this analogy does not hold; for while the larva of the Goat Moth (Cossus ligniperda) is three years, and that of the Cabbage Butterfly not three months, in attaining maturity, yet the perfect insect, in both species, lives equally long. The Melolontha vulgaris, which exists four years in its preparatory stages, lives only eight or ten days as a perfect insect. Some Ephemerae, whose ENTOMOLOGY. 131 larvae have enjoyed two years of preparatory existence, scarcely live beyond an hour; while the common Flesh-fly, whose larvae attain to maturity in three or four days, exists several weeks. HABITS AND INSTINCTS OF INSECTS. On the habits and instincts of some species of insects, volumes have been written without exhausting the subject. The instructive faculty, of which traces are discovered in the other classes of animated beings, is carried, among insects, to a very great perfec- tion; and human reason seems startled at the contemplation of the little commonwealths which the individuals of some species form by their aggregation. There is something so striking in their combination of means to one common end ; so wonderful in the geometrical structure of their dwellings, and the exact determina- tion of the materials to the space and strength requisite for their purposes; their economy, the wars of rival republics, for spoil or captives, are so astonishing, that one would feel inclined to doubt the truth of the facts related, were they not established beyond a possibility of contradiction. But although the works and habits of insects announce an industry, of which the higher classes afford few examples, yet their intellectual faculties, beyond the instinctive association and united labour of some, for the com- mon purposes of individual preservation and the continuance of the species, seem otherwise inferior. Insects have, at birth, all the knowledge requisite for these purposes ; and this knowledge consists of certain ideas, if they may be so termed, relative to their wants and the employment of their organs. The circle of their action is marked out for them ; but so limited, in many cases, are their instinctive faculties, that it has been ascertained, if the pupa be reversed in its cocoon, with its head placed at the end which has no apparatus necessary for its exit, it will perish in the attempt to force its way through the insuperable obstacle, even though a lateral opening be made for its escape. The natural faculty, which incites them in a determinate and constant manner, to seek their food, &c. is what is termed instinct; and is better adapted, in its limited aims, than reason, for those passengers over the scene of Nature, whose short period of existence, were they otherwise qualified, affords them no time to deliberate on means, or to profit by the lessons of experience. 132 ENTOMOLOGY. CLASSIFICATION OF INSECTS. Insects, according to the views of the most distinguished natu- ralists of the present day, form the fifth class to the third sub- kingdom, or Annulosa. Latreille's latest definition is " Insecta: A single dorsal vessel, representing the heart; two trunks, or tracheae, running the whole length of the body, and opening ex- ternally by numerous spiracles ; two antennae ; very often, upper appendages for flight, indicating die metamorphosis to which the animal is subject when young; legs most commonly reduced to six." The character of an insect, as given by that celebrated naturalist, Dr. Leach, and which we have adopted in the intro- ductory part of this Essay, appears more defined, from its sim- plicity and briefness of character, and is sanctioned by the Rev. W. Kirby, the first of entomologists, and, AVC believe, the father of the science in England. Insects, from their forms, and the peculiar construction of the mouth, and their metamorphoses, consist of two grand di- visions: namely, AMETABOLIA, insects undergoing no meta- morphosis; and METABOLIA, insects undergoing metamorphosis. In the latter are two sub-classes : MANDIBULATA, insects having a perfect mouth; and HAUSTELLATA, insects with the mouth imperfect. AMETABOLIA. ORDER 1. THYSANURA: tail armed with setae (spring tails.) ORDER 2. ANOPLURA: tail without setae (Lice.) METABOLIA. SUB-CLASS I.-MANDIBULATA. ORDER 3. COLEOPTERA (Beetles:) wings two, transversely folded; covered by two crustaceous, or hard coriaceous elytra meeting, generally, with a straight suture; mouth with mandibles; metamorphosis incomplete. ORDER 4. STREPSIPTERA: wings two, longitudinally fold- ed; mouth with mandibles; metamorphosis sub-coarctate (or with but little of the future insect visible.) ORDER 5. DERMAPTERA (Earwigs:) wings two, longitudi- nally and transversely folded; elytra sub-crustaceous, abbreviated with the suture straight ; mouth with mandibles ; metamorphosis semi-incomplete. ORDER 6. DICTYOPTERA (Cock-roaches:) wings two, lon- gitudinally folded twice or more, covered by two coriaceous elytra; ENTOMOLOGY. 133 one elytron decussating the other obliquely; mouth with man- dibles; metamorphosis semi-complete. ORDER 7. ORTHOPTERA (Grasshoppers and Locusts) : wings two, longitudinally folded, covered by two coriaceous elytra ; the margin of one elytron covering the same part of the other; mouth with mandibles; metamorphosis semi-complete. ORDER 8. NEUROPTERA (Dragon-flies, &c.): wings four, membranaceous, generally of equal size, with numerous decussating pterigostia (or wing-bones,) resembling a net-work ; mouth with mandibles, maxillae and lip; metamorphosis incomplete, or semi- complete. ORDER 9. HYMENOPTERA (Bees, Wasps, &c.): wings four, membranaceous, the hinder ones always smallest ; the pterigostia not decussating each other so as to resemble a net-work; mouth with mandibles, maxillae and lip; metamorphosis incomplete. SUB-CLASS II. HAUSTELLATA. ORDER 10. HEMIPTERA (Cimices, Bugs): wings two, co- vered by two crustaceous, or coriaceous elytra, the tips of which are generally membranaceous, horizontal, and the one decussating the other obliquely; mouth with an articulated rostrum; meta- morphosis semi-complete. ORDER 11, OMOPTERA (Cicadae, or Cuckoo-spits): wings two, covered by two elytra, which are entirely coriaceous, or mem- branaceous, meeting obliquely, with a straight suture; mouth with an articulated rostrum; metamorphosis semi-complete, or incomplete. ORDER 12. TRICHOPTERA (Caddis-flies) : wings four, mem- branaceous; the pterigostia hairy; mouth with maxillae and lip; metamorphosis incomplete. ORDER 13. LEPIDOPTERA (Butterflies, Moths, and Hawk Moths) : wings four, membranaceous, covered with meal-like scales; mouth with a spiral tongue; metamorphosis incomplete. ORDER 14. DIPTERA (House-flies): wings two, with halteres, or balancers, at tl\eir base; mouth tubular, formed for sucking; metamorphosis incomplete, or sub-coarctate. ORDER 15. OMALOPTERA (Forest-flies and Sheep-ticks): mouth furnished with mandibles and elongated maxillae ; lip sim- ple ; wings two, or none ; metamorphosis coarctate. ORDER 16. APTERA (Fleas) : no wingsorelytra ; mouth with a tubular, jointed, sucking rostrum ; metamorphosis incomolete. 134 ENTOMOLOGY. ORDERS OF INSECTS. ORDER I. THYSANOURA, To this order belongs the Podura of Linnaeus: a term im- plying that they have a leg in the tail ; which is, literally, the fact ; for the tail of these insects is furnished with an inflexed fork, which, though usually bent under the body, they have the power of unbending; during which action, the forked spring, pushing powerfully against the plane of position, enables the animal to leap sometimes two or three inches. The toy of the frog, from the elastic spring beneath, will convey to our young friends the prin- ciple of this movement. What is more remarkable, these little animals are, by this organ, empowered to leap even upon water. There is a minute black species (P. aquatica) which is found, in the winter, on the snow ; and, in the spring, is often seen floating on water contained in ruts, hollows, or even ditches; and in such infinite numbers, as to resemble gunpowder strewed upon the sur- face. When disturbed, these black grains are seen to skip about si ^ j as if ignited; jumping with as much ease as if the fluid were a solid plane resisting their pres- sure. The Lepisma saccharina (Fig. 31 ; the line beneath it is the natural size,) which also belongs to this order, is not uncommon among rocks, clothes, &c. and wanders about during the night. It is supposed to have been originally introduced into Europe from America, where it is said to live amongst sugar. ORDER II. ANOPLURA. The animals of this order are parasitical; their motion is slow, and their nourishment is derived from the blood of mammalia and birds. It is almost an established fact, that every species of bird, and, probably, mammiferous animal, has its own peculiar parasite; and there is no instance of the same species having been observed on two distinct species of birds; al- though some, as the Raven, Oyster-catcher, &c. are infested with several species of parasites. In Mexico and Peru, these animals were so nume- rous, that the ancient kings found no other means of ridding their subjects of them, than by the imposition of an annual tribute of a certain quantity. Ferdinand Cortes found bags full of them in the palace of Montezuma. (Fig, 32, Louse of the goose; the line at the side is the natural size.) ENTOMOLOGY. 135 ORDER III. COLEOPTERA. The insects of this order form a very natural division : they have hard cases to their wings (with a longitudinal suture,) which, in some, are united; and, therefore, such insects have no wings: but the wings in most are two. The mouth, in general, is furnished with two, four, and sometimes six, palpi, two mandibles, and two maxillae; it is covered above with a clypeus, and closed below with the lips: they have all six feet in their perfect state. In the antennae there is the greatest diversity of shape and form; which, in this system, affords the principal character of the genera. They have a hard, horny skin: on each side they have nine spira- cula, one on the thorax, and eight on the abdomen. The females lay their eggs in the earth, dung, plants, wood, &c. The larvae have six feet near the head (which differs in form and size in the different genera); jaws at the mouth; two eyes; often short an- tennas; and, on each side, nine spiracula. Those that feed on plants, and their roots, move but slowly; those which live in dead animals, are more active; others, as the Carabidae, Dyticidae, and Staphylinidae, which feed on living animals, are very rapid in their motions. We shall further illustrate this order of insects, by giving the natural history, as far as our limits will allow, of the most interesting species. The Cicindelidee, which Linnaeus has, with justice, denomi- nated the tigers of insects, are decorated with brilliant colours; they prey upon the whole insect race: their jaws, which cross each other, are armed with fearful fangs; and the extreme velocity 33 with which they can either run or fly, renders hope- less any attempt to elude their pursuit. The larva has six eyes, three on each side, seated on a lateral elevation of the head, like those of spiders; their jaws are armed \\ith a strong internal tooth, and their backs furnished with a pair of spines, some- what resembling the sting of a Scorpion. They in- habit sandy situations, and may be found during the spring months. Cicindela campestris is more common than any other of the genus; and is, perhaps, the most beautiful of the six species found in this country (Fig. 33, the natural size.) Carabida form a very extensive family of insects, of which several hundred species inhabit this country. They are generally found on the ground, under stones, in sanJ-pits, gardens, &c. The principal distinction is, the antennae being filiform, and the mouth 12 136 ENTOMOLOGY. being furnished with six palpi. The whole of this family are very voracious, preying on all insects which they can overcome. Mr. Shepherd states, that having applied a specimen of Carabus violacens (Fig. 34) to his face, it caused as much pain as if, after shaving himself, he had rubbed it with spirits of wine. One of the most singular and interesting insects of this family, is the Brachinus crepitans, or Bombardier (Fig. 35, natural size,) which is rather a local insect; but where they do inhabit, may generally be found in profusion: they secrete themselves, during the day, beneath stones. The sexes of this family may generally be determined by that of the male having the anterior tarsus dilated (Fig. 36, a) ; and that of the female,simple (Fig. 36, 6.) This is also observable in the Cicindelidcf. 34 35 36 37 38 The DyticidtB are truly amphibious; for though they live prin- cipally in water, they have also the faculty of going upon land and flying in the air, which they generally do late in the evening; and, no doubt, frequently transport the ova of fishes to distant waters, where they alight: this will, in some measure, account for the fry of fishes being found in pools caused by heavy rains. The general form is oval, more or less oblong ; in the larger species, the males have the elytra smooth, and those of the females are sulcated. The whole of this family swim well, having the posterior feet compressed, and beautifully fringed with hair. The larvae, also, inhabit the water, and feed on the smaller insects, and even on fish ; they have a long and narrow body, composed of eleven or twelve segments, of which the first is the largest; the head is large, and furnished with two powerful curved mandibles. The larvae leave the water in April or May, the period of their transformation, and conceal themselves in the ground, at the sides of ponds anil ditches, The perfect insect may be found throughout the year (Fig. 37, Colymbetes striatus, in the act of flying. Fig. 38, a, anterior pa- telliform foot of male Dyticus; b, foot of female.) The insects of the family Gyrinida, are also aquatic, running or swimming in circles on the surface of the water; and when they dive, carrying with them a bubble of air that appears like quicksilver. These bubbles, says Mr. Kirby, which may be seen ENTOMOLOGY. 137 clustering in groupes, under warm banks, in every river and every pool, and wheeling round and round with great velocity, at your approach, dispersing and diving under water, but as soon as you retire, resuming their accustomed movements, seem to be under the influence of the social prin- ciple, and to form their assemblies for no other purpose but to enjoy together, in the sun-bearn, the mazy dance. The body, in this family, is oval, and generally shining; the antennae are in- serted in a cavity before the eyes, cylindrical and very short ; the head is sunk in the thorax to the eyes, which are large and di- vided so as to appear as four (Gyrinus aeneus, fig. 3.9; a, the antennee magnified; 6, the posterior leg magnified.) The family, Buprestida, is peculiarly distinguished by the beauty of their colours. The species of this country are small and few; but the exotic species, besides being numerous, are remarkable for their size, and possess the lustre of polished gold on an emerald ground. In others, azure blue is reflected on a golden base; and a metallic lustre, of various kinds, is almost always present. The Buprestidae walk slowly ; but their flight is rapid, when the weather is dry and warm. The larvae, which feed on dry wood, appear to live many years without a meta- morphosis. A curious account, relative to one of this family, has been given by the late Mr. Marsham, which we shall quote for our young friends : " On the 3d of January, 1810, James Mon- tague, Esq. one of the surveyors to the corporation of London, on going to his desk, in the office of works, at Guildhall, observed an insect, which had been seen by his brother, in the early part of the day, endeavouring to extricate itself from the wood which formed part of the desk. Mr. Montague, with his pen-knife, carefully released it from its cell ; and it proved to be a beautiful Coleop- terous insect, of the genus Buprestis, full of strength and vigour. The desk, which is eight feet nine inches long, and three feet five inches wide, is made of fir-wood, which is perfectly sound. It was fixed in the office in the year 1788 or 1789; and it has re- mained there, untouched, ever since; excepting, about three years ago, it was planed, to remove some ink spots; by which opera- tion the animal had a very narrow escape from being discovered, as was apparent from the thinness of die wood over the cell, when it attempted to come out. The insect, with a piece of the wood, about a foot square, cut out nearly from the middle of the desk, was sent to Sir Joseph Banks; but a thin shaving had 138 ENTOMOLOGY. previously been taken from the surface of the board, by the officious eare of a carpenter, who chose to shave away the stains of ink." This insect appears to have been the Buprestis splendens, which is occasionally found in Sweden. The wing-cases of the larger India species, are frequently used by the ladies of the East, as ornaments for the head and other parts of their dress. Buprestis viridis (Fig. 40) inhabits the birch- trees of this country (a, one of the antenna? magnified.) The apparatus, with which the insects of the genus Elaterida are provided, for the purpose of raising themselves when placed on their back, which is a difficult feat for many of the Coleopterous insects, is both singular and curious. An elastic spring, or spine, projects from the hinder extremity of the breast; and there is a groove, or cavity, in the anterior part of the abdomen. When laid on its back, the insect raises and sustains itself on the anterior part of the head and the extremity of the body; by which means the spine is removed from the groove where it is lodged when in its natural position; then suddenly bending its body, the spine is struck, with force, across a small ridge, or elevation, into the cavity from whence it was withdrawn; by which shock, the parts of the body before sustained in the air, are so forcibly struck against whatever the insect is laid on, as to cause it to spring, or rebound, to a considerable distance. The antennae are lodged in a cavity, scooped out of the under side of the head and thorax, which completely preserves them from injury when the insect falls, after its singular leap. The Elater segetis (Fig. 41,) known in its larva state as the Wire-worm, causes, annually, a large diminution of the produce of our fields; destroying, indiscriminately, wheat, rye, oats, and grass. The Silphiades are of great importance in the economy of nature, as both the larvae and perfect insects feed on carrion: the latter are furnished with large wings, and the perforated antennae appear well adapted (if they be organs of scent) to direct them to their food. A small dead animal is soon visited by a number of Silphae, which join in burying it, after they have deposited their eggs in its body. A mole or mouse is often buried, by the industry of four or five of them, in the space of four-and- twenty hours : they scoop out the earth all round and below the animal, which gradually sinks down, while the agents are invisible. The larva? undergo their change in the earth. (Silpha quadripunctata, fig. 42.) ENTOMOLOGY. 139 The Death-watch, one of the Ptinidce, is a dusky and some- what hairy insect, with irregular brownish spots ; it is about a quarter of an inch in length. In the advanced state of spring, these insects usually commence their noise, which is no more than a call, or signal, by which they mutually attract each other; and it may be considered as analogous to the call of birds. This noise does not arise from the voice; but from the insect's beating on some hard substance with the shield, or fore-part of the head. The general number of successive distinct strokes, is from seven to nine or eleven. These are given in pretty quick succession, and are repeated at uncertain intervals. In old houses, where the insects are numerous, they may be heard, if the weather be warm, almost every hour in the day. The noise exactly resembles that made by beating with the nail on a table. To this group belongs the celebrated worm which is so injurious to books. M. Peignot mentions an instance, of twenty-seven folio volumes, in a public library but little frequented, being perforated, in a straight line, by 43 the same insect (probably Anobiuin pertinax, or stria- turn,) in such a manner, that on passing a cord through the perfectly round hole made by it, these twenty-seven volumes *x)uld be raised at once. Anobium tessellatum (Fig. 43, natural size,) is occasionally found in the wood of decayed willow-trees. The highly-interesting species, Hydrous piceus, is the largest of all the aquatic insects. The larva, which is black, and about an inch and a half in length, lives in still waters and ponds; its head is smooth and chestnut-coloured ; it has six short, slender feet, which are actually placed on the back; and a tapering tail, through which it respires. In the month of July it is said to attain its utmost size; at that time it quits the water, creeps along the dry ground to a heap of dung, and makes a hole under it pretty deep, and so wide, that it can lie in it rolled up in a circle; it there changes into its pupa state. About the middle of August the perfect insect appears. Like most of the aquatic insects, it lives through the winter, diving deep into mud during the most incle- ment weather (Fig. 20, page 120.) The eggs of the Common Cockchafer (Melolontha vulgaris) are deposited in the ground by the winged insect, whose fore-legs are very short, and well calculated for burrowing; from each of these proceeds, after a short time, a whitish worm, about an inch and a half long, with six legs, a red head, and strong claws, which is destined to live in the earth four years, and there undergo 12* 140 ENTOMOLOGY. various intermediate changes of its skin, until it assumes its chry- salis form. It subsists, during its subterraneous abode, on the roots of trees and plants, committing ravages, often of the most deplorable nature. These creatures sometimes, in immense num- bers, work between the turf and the soil, in the richest meadows, devouring tiie roots of the grass to such a ruinous extent, that the turf rises, and may be rolled up with almost as much ease as if it had been cut with a turfing-spade; while the soil beneath, for about an inch in depth, is turned into a soft mould, like the bed of a garden; in this the grubs lie, in a curved position, on their backs, the head and tail uppermost, and the body buried in the earth. In the year 1688, the Cockchafers appeared on the hedges and trees of the south-west coast of the county of Galway, in clusters of thousands, clinging to each other, in the manner of Bees when they swarm. During the day they remained quiet; but toward sun-set the whole of them were in motion; and the humming noise of their wings sounded like distant drums. Their numbers were so great, that, for the space of two or three square miles, they entirely darkened the air. Persons travelling on the roads, or who were abroad in the fields, found it difficult to pursue their course, as the insects were continually beating their faces, and caused great pain. In a very short time the leaves of all the trees in the neighbourhood were destroyed f leaving the face of the country, although it was near Midsummer, as naked and desolate as if it were the middle of winter. The noise that these enormous swarms made in seizing and eating the leaves, was so loud as to have been compared to the distant sawing of timber. Swine and poultry devoured such clusters of them, as they fell from the trees, that they soon became fat, without any other food. The insects having, at length, eaten up the whole produce of the ground, the inhabitants adopted a mode of dressing them for food. Toward the end of summer they disappeared so suddenly, that in a few days there was not a single one left (Common Cockchafer, fig. 44.) Among the Melolonthida is the Rose Beetle (Cetonia aurata,) than which there is scarcely any of the English Coleopterous insects more beautiful. The upper parts of the female are of a shining green colour, varying according to the light in which it is held, and marked transversely on the wing-cases with a few short white or yellowish lines. The male is of a burnished copper ENTOMOLOGY. 141 colour, with a greenish cast. They are to be found on flowers during the month of June, particularly on those of the Rose or peony. The grubs that produce this Beetle, feed under ground, most commonly at the roots of trees, and never appear on the surface, unless disturbed by digging, or some other accident. They are supposed to be injurious to the gardener, from their devouring the roots of plants and trees. The female deposits her eggs in the middle of June. For this purpose she burrows into soft, light ground, hollowing it out so as to form a proper recep- tacle. When this operation is complete, she returns to the surface, and flies off, but seldom lives more than two months afterwards. The grubs are produced in about fourteen days, and immediately seek for food, which is never far distant, as the parent always lays her eggs near a supply of provision proper for the infant 45 larvae. As soon as they have attained sufficient strength, the young grubs separate, each burrowing a different way in search of roots. They remain four years in this state, annually changing their skin, till they become of full growth ; at that time the larva is of a cream colour, with a brown head and feet. During winter they eat but little, if at all, and retire so deep into the ground as to avoid the effects of the frost. (Fig. 45, Rose Beetle.) The LucanidtB are the largest of the British COLEOPTERA ; the larva is white, and lives on putrid wood, generally oak; its head and feet are of a rust colour. The perfect insect varies in size and colour ; in general it is dark brown or blackish : the jaws are very large, about one-third of the length of the whole insect, and have a distant resemblance to the horns of a stag; the female, which is much less than the male, wants these, or, at least, they are shorter than the head. This species is occa- sionally found in profusion, in Kent and Surrey, during the months of June and July. It appears, that such larvae as feed on the oak, generally produce the finest specimens; and that those which feed on the willow, are much smaller; the males fly in the evening; the females are seldom observed on the wing (Fig. 46, the male Stag Beetle.) The Curculio of the Nut (Curculio nucum) proceeds from a very small brown egg, which the parent deposits on the outside of the nut, at a time when it is very soft and tender. As soon as the heat of the season has perfected the little grub, it eats its 142 ENTOMOLOGY. way out of the egg, and through the shell into the nut. Its chief food, at this time, is the coat of the nut, or that part which afterwards hardens into the shell; and it continues to feed on this and the interior pulp, until the one becomes too hard, and the other too dry for its sustenance. It then attacks the kernel, which, by that time, is grown large enough to afford it support: this seems a most providential instinct; for had the Curculio begun to feed on die kernel when small, it would have destroyed that on which its future support depended, as well as the principal food allotted to it by Nature, while in a larva state. It con- stantly attends to the hole by which it entered, gnawing away the sides so as to make them very round and smooth ; this not only allows it sufficient air, but is also the passage through which, when it is full fed, and ready to undergo its change, it makes its way out. About the month of September, or, perhaps, somewhat later, the nut becomes ripe and falls to the ground. At this time the Curculio is gene- rally prepared for the change, and works itself through the hole. It then buries itself in the earth, and, shortly after, changes into a chrysalis; in which state it remains till the following spring, and about the beginning of May, assumes the Beetle form (Fig. 47.) The grubs of the Palm Weevil (Calandra palmarum,) an insect belonging to this family, which are as large as the thumb, have been long in request, both at Demerara and Surinam, as an article of food, both by the whites and blacks, who empty, wash them in salt and water, and dress them, by roasting, or frying them in butter or crumbs of bread: when properly cooked, they are said to be exquisite. The family Cerambycidce is numerous, and has been divided into several genera by Fabricius and others. But few of the species are inhabitants of Britain. Their larvae live in wood, which they perforate and consume. They are the favourite food of woodpeckers ; they have shorter feet than the larvae of most other COLEOPTERA. The antennae are often longer than the body of the perfect insect ; they are bent, and have some resemblance to the horns of a goat or stag. The thorax of the Cerambya moschatus (Fig. 48) is armed with a spine ; the antenna? are bluish, and of the same length with the body. It is among the largest of the European species; ENTOMOLOGY, 143 it varies much as to colour, being green, purple, or coppery; the body, dark blue: it has a very strong musk-like smell. The larvae feed on the soft wood of willows. In June the perfect insect appears; and when taken, emits a peculiar noise, produced by the movement of the thorax against the elytra. The insects of the family Chrysomelidte are, for the most part, nearly hemispherical, and adorned with shining and splendid colours. They live on leaves, but do not eat the nerves. Their larvae are soft, and, in general, of an oval shape, somewhat elon- gated, with six feet near the head. The last joint of their feet, or the tarsus, consists of four articulations. Chrysomela populi (Fig. 49) 49 is found on the aspen: this is one of the larger of the British species of this genus. The elytra are red and finely punctured, and have a small black spot at the apex. The larva commits great ravages on the leaves of the aspen, leaving nothing but the nerves. It is variegated with black and white, and, when touched, it discharges a very fetid oily matter from a double row of tuber- cles on its sides. To this family, also, belongs that very curious jf.^ insect, Cassida equestris (Fig. 50,) which is found fre- Mfjyu quently on thistles, and on the verticillated plants. The \UjJ/ body is oval, convex above, and flat below. The elytra project over the sides, and totally cover the whole body, so that no part of it is seen. The larva has six feet, and feeds on the thistle; it is broad, short, and depressed, with acute spines on the sides: its tail is recurved, and terminates in a sort of fork. The larva often changes the skin. The pupa is broad, flat, and almost oval, surrounded with a number of fringe-like appendages, and with an arched band, or front. It is of a pale green colour, and found on thistles. In fifteen days the perfect insect appears. The next family we have to mention, Coccinellidte, includes the insect commonly called, in England, the Lady-bird (Fig. 51.) si The larvae feed on the Aphides, or Plant Lice, and are /nynh beneficial in gardens and hop-grounds on that account. myj The species are numerous and subject to great variety. Several of the species live through the winter and appear early in the spring. In 1807, the shores at Brighton, and all the watering-places on the south coast, were literally covered with Lady-birds, to the great surprise, and even alarm, of the inha- bitants, who were ignorant that their little visitors were emigrants from the neighbouring hop-grounds; where, in their larva state, each had slain his thousands and tens of thousands of the Aphis, 144 ENTOMOLOGY. which, under the name of the Fly, so frequently destroys the hopes of the hop-grower. ORDER IV. STREPSIPTERA. Mr. Kirby, in the second volume of his Monographia Apum Angliae, gives the following account of Stylops melitta: "Upon this insect (Melitta nigro-aenea) I discovered, last spring (1801,) a very singular animal, which seems appropriate to the present genus. I had previously, more than once, observed upon other species, something that I took to be a kind of Acarus, which .appeared to be immoveably fixed just at the inosculations of the dorsal seg- ments of the abdomen. At length, finding three or four upon a specimen of Melitta nigro-aenea, I determined not to lose that opportunity of taking one off to examine and describe; but what was my astonishment, when, upon my attempting to disengage it with a pin, I drew forth, from the body of the Melitta, a white fleshy larva, a quarter of an inch in length, the head of which I had mistaken for an Acarus! After I had examined one spe- cimen, I attempted to extract a second; and the reader may imagine how greatly my astonishment was increased, when, after I had drawn it out but a little way, 1 saw its skin burst, and a head as black as ink, with large, staring eyes, and antennae con- sisting of two branches, break forth and move itself briskly from side to side! It looked like a little imp of darkness just emerging from the infernal regions. My eagerness to set free from its con- finement this extraordinary animal, may be easily conjectured: indeed, I was impatient to become better acquainted with so singular a creature. When it was completely disengaged, and I had secured it from making its escape, I set myself to examine it as accurately as possible; and I found, after a careful inquiry, that I had not only got a nondescript, but also an insect of a new genus, whose very class seemed dubious." Since the above, the assiduous J. C. Dale, Esq. of Dorset, has discovered a new species of this highly-interesting order of insects. His observations we shall take as given by Mr. Curtis in his British Entomology: " Every specimen of Andrena barbilabus I have seen this year, from the 27th of April to the 4th of June (1828,) has contained larvae, pupae, or exuvise of Stylops, from one to three in each. On the 5th of May I picked one out with a pin; on the 7th, another, rather immature; and caught one flying, in the hot sunshine, over a quickset hedge in the garden: it looked milk-white on the ENTOMOLOGY. 145 wing, with a jet-black body, and totally unlike anything else; it flew with an undulating, or vacillating motion, among the young shoots, and I could not catch it till it settled on me ; when it ran up and down, its wings in motion, and making a considerable buzz, or hum, nearly as loud as a Sesia. It twisted about its rather long tail, and turned it up like a Staphylinus. 1 I put it under a glass, and placed it and then appear as plentiful as before. To suppose they come from the continent is an idle conjecture; because the English specimens are easily distinguished from all others, by the superior whiteness of their borders. Perhaps their eggs, in this climate, like the seeds of some vegetables, may, occasionally, lie dormant for several seasons, and not hatch until some extraordinary, but undiscovered, coinci- dence awake them into active life." V. lo (Peacock Butterfly) : angulated and indented wings, of a dull red colour, spotted with black, with a blue ocellus on each. It inhabits Europe. The Caterpillars are found on the hop and the nettle: they are gregarious; set with spines; black, with white spots : the hinder feet are ferruginous. They inclose themselves in a web; drawing, at the same time, the leaves together to cover them. They change their colour every time they change their skin, and make a web, each time, at a distance from their former residence. When in their last skin, they forsake the web, and feed separately. The pupa is of a greenish yellow, with ten dents, and bifid behind: it undergoes its change the first week of July, and remains in the pupa state three weeks; the Butterfly then appears. V. Polychloros (Great Tortoise-shell Butterfly): wings angu- lated, tawny, with black spots ; the anterior ones, on the upper side, with four black dots. It inhabits Europe. The Caterpillar is gre>- garious, spiny, and blackish, with a yellow lateral line; it feeds on the elm and fruit-trees: the pupa is reddish. The Butterflies appear in July ; but the latter brood sometimes pass the winter and appear in March. They fly swiftly, and delight to settle in dry pathways and on the trunks of trees, to bask in the sun- shine. Urticse (Small Tortoise-shell Butterfly) : wings angulated and tawny, with black spots; the anterior ones, on the upper side, with 15 172 ENTOMOLOGY. three black dots. It inhabits Europe. The Caterpillar is gregarious, spiny, and dark -coloured, sometimes with a tinge of green; the head is black: it feeds on the nettle. The chrysalis is brownish, with dents and gold-coloured spots at the neck, and sometimes altogether gilded. They may be found in June, hanging by the tail, attached to the leaves or stalks of the nettle. The Butterfly is very common; it lives through the winter, and comes abroad, on some fine day, early in the spring; whence Linnaeus calls it fallax veris indicium. C Album (White C Butterfly): wings angulated and tawny, with black spots; the posterior one marked, on the under side, with a white C. It inhabits Europe. The Caterpillar is spiny and tawny; the back yellow before, and white behind: the pupa is reddish, contracted in the middle, with gilded points; it is found on the nettle, the hop, the willow, and the currant. The Butter- fly is seen from June to September. Iris (Purple Emperor, fig. 91): wings indented, brownish, shining with blue or purple; on both surfaces a whitish interrupted fascia, and a single ocellus (or eye-like marking,) on the under wing. The following account is given of this interesting and elegant insect, by Mr. Haworth : " In the month of July he makes his appearance in the winged state; and, invariably, fixes his throne upon the summit of a lofty oak ; from the utmost sprigs of which, on sunny days, he performs his aerial excursions; and, in these, ascends to a much greater elevation than any other insect I have ever seen: sometimes mounting higher than the eye can follow; especially if he happen to quarrel with another Emperor, the monarch of some neighbouring oak: they never meet without a battle; flying upwards all the while, and combatting with each other as much as possible; after which, they will frequently return again to the identical sprigs from whence they ascended. The wings of this fine species are of a stronger texture than those of any other in Britain, and more calculated for that gay and power- ful flight which is so much admired by entomologists. The Purple Emperor commences his aerial movements from ten to twelve o'clock in the morning, but does not perform his loftiest flights till noon ; decreasing them after this hour, until he quite ceases ENTOMOLOGY. 173 to fly, about four in the afternoon : thus emulating the motions of that source of all his strength, the sun. The females, like those of many other species, are very rarely seen on the wing; the reason of which is both interesting and but little known: it is their being destitute of a certain spiral socket, which the males possess, near the base of the main tendon of their upper wings; which socket receives and works a strong elastic spring arising from the base of the under wings; thereby enabling them to perform a stronger, longer, and more easy flight than it is possible for the females to do. The males usually fly very high, and are only to be taken by a bag-net fixed to the end of a rod twenty or thirty feet long. There have been instances, though very rare, of their settling on the ground, near puddles of water, and being taken there. When the Purple Emperor is within reach, no fly is more easily taken; for he is so very bold and fearless, that he will not move from his settling place until you quite push him off: you may even tip the ends of his wings, and be suffered to strike again." Liminites: L. Camilla (White Admirable,) is a beautiful species, which has become rare near Lon- don, but is occasionally found in Suffolk : it is remarkable for its ele- gant flight (Fig. 92.) Of the genus Hipparchia, we appear to have at least sixteen species; many of them are very local ; most of them are of a brown colour, with small ocelli, or eye- like markings: the most variegated is Galathea (Fig. 93,) which is found in woods during the month of July. Thecla: T. Quercus (Purple Hair Streak,) inhabits woods in June and July. The Caterpillar feeds on the oak, and may be found towards the end of May (Fig. 94.) Lyc&na: The insects of this group may be divided into two sections, the blues and the coppers : the latter are remarkable for 174 ENTOMOLOGY. their splendid metallic colours; only four species have yet been found in this country. L. Dispar (the Large Copper) is found in the fens of Huntingdonshire. L. Philoeas (the Small Copper, fig. 95,) is found on heaths. L. Corydon (the Chalk Hill Blue, fig. 96,) is confined to chalky districts, and is one of the largest and richest of the species. Hespcria: Of this curious genus we have but six species; they inhabit the skirts of woods and banks; they fly swiftly, but to a very short distance, then alight for a time, again fly a few yards, and very often settle again upon the same leaf or flower: from this circumstance they are termed Skippers (Fig. 97, the Hesperia Malvae, Mallow Skipper.) Sphingidte: Some of the species of this genus are the largest of Lepidopterous insects. (Sphinx Ligustri, Privet Hawk Moth, fig. 98.) They fly, for the most part, early in the morning and late in the evening; except the small species (the ^Egeria,) which appear during the day. Their upper wings are longer and narrower, and the under wings shorter, than those of the Papilios. They hover about flowers, and, without settling on them, suck the nectarious juices with their long spiral tongue. When they rest, they fold the tongue under the breast; which, when they fly, is stretched out. The Caterpillars are large, smooth, without hairs, and dotted; they have sixteen feet; nine spiracula on each side, with an erect, rigid, acute horn on the eleventh abdominal segment. They change into a pupa obtecta, either under leaves or under the earth, where they make, sometimes, an ample web, and some- times a firm case. The pupa is elongated, and generally continues ENTOMOLOGY. 175 through the winter before the perfect insect appears. Many of them fly with great rapidity and make a noise with their wings. The Caterpillar of die Ligustri (Privet Hawk Moth, fig. 98,) feeds on the privet, the lilac, the ash, the alder, and the willow: it is tailed; of a green colour; with oblique, lateral, red striae before, and whitish behind. When at rest, it keeps the fore-part of the body erect, with the feet elevated. It goes into the earth in August, to change into the chrysalis state, and the Moth appears in June. The pupa is brown, with four dents at the tail. Macroglossum: The Caterpillar of the Humming-bird Hawk Moth (Stellatarurn, fig. 99,) feeds on the stellated plants: it 99 is tailed, and dotted with white; the tail is subulated and blue; the apex ferrugi- ^j^y' nous: the pupa is brown. The perfect 4flBRaflHE9^ insect is not uncommon. By the motion ^^t^jM plpp^ of its wings, when flying, it produces a sound like that made by a Bee or Wasp. It flies rapidly from flower to flower, and, without settling, inserts its long tongue into them to suck their juices. The fly is found from April to September, in gardens and lanes, near woods. Algeria: Tipuliformis (Fig. 100, the Cur- rant Hawk,) is a small species found on the currant, in June. The Caterpillar feeds on the wood : it is solitary, somewhat hairy, and whitish ; the head and feet are yellow, with a long line down the back, of a darker colour. Zygana: The Caterpillar of Filipendula (the Burnet Hawk) is found on the rag-wort: it is of a sulphur colour, with four lines of black dots. The pupa is brown, yellow in the middle, with brown stigmatae ; it is inclosed in a yellow case, fixed to the stem of some plant. The perfect insect appears in June; it flies heavily, and is easily caught (Fig. 101, the cocoon; Fig. 102, the perfect insect.) Hepialus: Humuli (Ghost Moth) : wings yellow, striated with orange; those of the male with white. It inhabits Europe. The Caterpillar feeds on the roots of the hop and burdock: it is of a cream colour, and somewhat glossy; the head is nut-brown ; 15* 176 EXTOMOLOGY. on the back, close behind the head, is a brown, shining mark, of u hard, callous substance. It changes, in May, to a dark brown pupa, and the Moth appears in --.. June. It flies in the dusk of the evening, hovering up and down, in one particular spot, for a long time. It is often seen in church- yards; whence its English name. (Fig. 103, the female.) Cossus: The Caterpillar of the species, Ligniperda (Goat Moth,) which is one of our largest Moths, feeds on the wood of the birch, oak, and willow: it is of a carnation colour; the 104 head is black: it lives in this state three years, before its transformation to a pupa; when full-fed, it is four inches long. It makes a case composed of bits of wood and saw-dust, which it unites with a strong web, lined in the inside with a fine white filmy substance, like satin. It remains in the pupa state two months; and at the end of June the perfect insect may be found on willow-trees (Fig. 104.) Saturnia: The Caterpillars of that elegant insect, S. Pavonia Minor (Emperor Moth,) are gregarious; green and verticillated; with hairy, red, and yellow warts on a black band: they are found on the bramble and dog-rose. About the middle of July they spin a strong silken case, somewhat of the shape of a Florence flask without the neck; and having inclosed themselves, they 105 change into a blackish pupa, and thus remain till the month of April; when the mouth of the case, being elastic, yields to the effort of its tenant to get out, and the perfect insect appears (Fig. 105, the male.) Bombyx: The species, Mori, of which the Caterpillar is known I by the name of the Si Ik- worm (Fig. 106, the male,) is said to have come, originally, from the northern provinces of China; and, before the introduction of the animal into Europe, the silk, which is produced from its cocoon, was sold for more than its weight in gold. The city of Turfan, ENTOMOLOGY. 177 in Bucharia, the metropolis of the Seres, the Serica of Ptolemy, was, for a long period, the principal rendezvous and depot of the silk-merchants of China. Expelled from their country by Huns, this people established themselves in Great Bucharia and India; and it is related, that the Greek missionaries, in the reign of the Emperor Justinian, transported the ova of the Silk-worm in reeds, for the first time, to Constantinople. The cultivation of this useful animal was thus extended to Southern Europe ; and was, afterwards, introduced into Spain and Africa by the Arabs. In the time of the Crusaders, the insect passed from the Morea into Sicily and Calabria. From Calabria, the mulberry and the ova of the same animal, were brought to France by some of the followers of Charles the Eighth, on his conquest of Naples; and the cultivation of the insect was afterwards encouraged and patronized by Sully, as an important branch of national industry. The mode of feeding and managing the Caterpillar, or Silk- worm, and procuring its delicate web, is detailed in numerous works, both scientific and economical. The Caterpillar feeds upon the leaves of the black or white mulberry, the latter being preferred; it thrives well in this country, also, on lettuce-leaves. After remaining in this state for about six weeks, during which the Caterpillar changes its skin six times, the animal ceases to feed, and begins to form an envelope, or cocoon, of silken fibres, in some convenient spot, producing minute threads until it has formed an oval yellow case, or ball, about the size of a pigeon's egg, in which it changes to a chrysalis. In this state it remains about fifteen days, when the perfect insect is produced. This, however, is not allowed to happen when Silk-worms are reared for the sake of the silk : the cocoons are, therefore, exposed to such a degree of heat as to kill the inclosed animals; a few only being saved to keep up the breed. The Moth, when produced, is but very short-lived. The length of the silken thread, when unrolled, is said to be from three hundred to five hundred yards, and it is composed of two united threads, or filaments, agglutinated together. The manufacture of silk goods from this humble but beautiful material, has been known from very early times. The general use of silk in Europe, however, boasts of no great an- tiquity. Henry II. of France, is said to have been the first individual who had stockings of this manufacture. Queen Elizabeth first added black silk stockings to the royal wardrobe; and James the Sixth, of Scotland, before his accession to the English crown, wrote to the Earl of Mar for the loan of a pair of stockings, of 178 ENTOMOLOGY. the same material, to appear, with dignity, before the English ambassadors. Towards the end of this King's reign, however, the broad-silk manufacture was prosecuted, in England, to a con- siderable extent; and, in 1661, the silk -throwsters, of London, employed four thousand persons. The manufacture of silk goods is now an important branch of British industry. Noctua: The Caterpillar of JN'upta (Red Underwing Moth, fig. 107,) is naked and gray, with a truncated wart upon the tail: it feeds on the wil- low, and is found in June and July. It spins a case, in which it turns to a blue- ish pupa. The Moth is found in August and Sep- tember. Tinea: T. Evonymella (the Spotted Ermine, fig. 108,) inhabits the white-thorn and apple-trees: it feeds on the leaves; and whole hedges may frequently be observed entirely destroyed by los the Caterpillar. A species, closely allied to this, Tinea punctata, or T. Padilla, has been directed, in the larva state, by Mr. Habenstreet, of Munich, so as to work on a paper model suspended from the ceiling of a room. To this model he can give any form and di- mensions ; and he has thus been enabled to obtain square shawls, an air-balloon, four feet high, and a woman's complete robe with the sleeves, but without seams. One or two larvae can weave a square inch of cloth: a great number are, of course, employed, and their motions are interdicted from the parts of the model not to be covered, by applying oil to those parts. The cloth exceeds in fineness the lightest gauze, and has been worn, as a robe, over her court dress, by the Queen of Bavaria. ORDER XIV. DIPTERA. This order contains those insects that have but two wings: the Common House Fly, the Carrion Fly, &c. belong to it. Few insects of this species are better known than the Gnat; and there are not many that afford a more interesting history. From the beginning of May their larvae may be seen in the stagnant waters, with their heads downward. From the side of the abdomen arises ENTOMOLOGY. 179 the hollow tube through which they respire; their heads are armed with hooks, by which they seize on such insects and bits of grass as constitute their food; on their sides are four small fins, by the help of which they swim and crawl along. These larvae retain their form during a fortnight, or three weeks, after which they turn into chrysalids; and all the parts of the winged insect are then distinguishable through their thin exterior covering: an alteration, also, takes place in the situation and shape of the re- spiratory tube ; in this state it is divided into two parts, and placed near the head. The chrysalids abstain from eating, and reside almost constantly on the surface of the water; but the least motion causes them to unroll themselves from their spiral position, and, by means of the paddles on their hinder part, to plunge to die bottom. In the course of a few days they are transformed into perfect Gnats. If, at the instant of the change, a breeze spring up, the consequences to them are fatal, as the water gets into their cases, from which they are not yet perfectly loosened; this immediately sinks them, and they are drowned. The female deposits her eggs on the surface of the water, and surrounds them with a kind of unctuous matter, which prevents them from sink- ing; at the same time fastening them with a thread to the bottom, to prevent them from floating away, at the mercy of every breeze, from a place, the warmth of which is proper for their production, to any other, where the water may be loo cold, or their enemies be too numerous. In this state the egg, therefore, resembles a buoy that is fixed by an anchor. As they approach towards maturity they sink deeper; and, at last, Avhen they leave the egg, they creep, in the form of grubs, at the bottom. If the Gnats were not devoured by fish, water-fowl, swallows, and other animals, the air would often, from their immense multitudes, become darkened: a few instances have occurred in which this has been the case. (Fig. 109, Culex Pipiens, the Common Gnat.) It is impossible to behold and not admire the beautiful struc- ture of the proboscis of the Gnat, through which it draws the juices that afford it nourishment. The naked eye is only able to discover a long and slender tube, containing five or six spicula of exquisite fineness. These spicula, introduced into the veins of animals, act like the suckers of a pump, and cause the blood to ascend. The insect injects a small quantity of liquid into the wound, by which the blood is made more fluid. It soon begins 180 ENTOMOLOGY. to swell and grow red, but does not quit its hold till it has gorged itself. The liquor it has injected causes, by its fermenting, a dis- agreeable itching, which may lie removed by volatile alkali, or by immediately rubbing and washing the place with cold water. We are also told, that rubbing the part affected with fuller's-earth and water, or chalk and water, will lessen the inflammation. Eftrus: The larva.- of the Ox Bot (Bovis,) live in the backs of oxen and other cattle, causing sub-cu- taneous tubercles, or knots; they grow to be as large as the end of the finger, and may be squeezed out at a hole they have always open ; they are round, rough, and of a dirty white colour (Fig. 110, the perfect insect, ^Estrus bovis, the Ox Bot.) There are two species peculiar to the horse, one to the deer, and one to the sheep. ORDER XV. OMALOPTERA. The fifteenth order contains the Forest Fly and the sheep and Swallow Ticks. The Forest Fly, we believe, is confined to the New Forest of Hampshire: these insects cling to the flanks of the horse in swarms; so that several handfuls may, actually, at times, be taken from a single animal. (Fig. Ill, the Forest Fly.) ORDER XVI. APTERA. The best example of this order, which is the sixteenth, is the Common Flea. When examined with a microscope, it will be ob- served to have a small head, large eyes, and two short four-jointed antenme, between which is the trunk, or proboscis. The body is enveloped in a shelly armour that is always clear and bright : this is beset, at the segment, with many sharp bristles. All its motions indicate agility; and its muscular power is so extraordinary, as justly to excite our wonder. We know no other animal whatever, whose strength, in proportion to its size, can be put in competition \vith that of a flea; for, on a moderate computation, it is able to leap to a distance of, at least, two hundred times its own length ; it will drag after it a chain a hundred times heavier than itself; and, to compensate for this force, will eat ten times its own weight of provisions in a day. Mr. Boverich, an ingenious watch-maker, who, some years ago, lived in the Strand, exhibited a little ivory ENTOMOLOGY. 181 chaise, with four wheels, and all its proper apparatus, and a man sitting on the box, all of which were drawn by a single Flea. He made a small landau, which opened and shut by springs, with six horses harnessed to it ; a coachman sitting on the box, and a dog between his legs ; four persons in the carriage, two footmen behind it, and a postilion riding on one of the horses: all of which a Flea drew with ease. He likewise had a chain of brass, about two inches long, containing two hundred links, with a hook at one end, and a padlock and key at the other, which jtc Flea drew very nimbly along. REARING OF CATERPILLARS. As the rearing and management of Caterpillars may prove interesting, before we conclude we shall detail the most success- ful methods that can be adopted for that purpose. Breeding-cages are used for rearing in- sects from Caterpillars, and may be made of wainscot (deal is objectionable, as the scent from the turpentine is liable to kill the larvae,) in the form represented by fig. 112, with the sides and front covered with gauze. A small square box, or tube, should be placed in it, for the reception of a phial of water, in which the stalks of the plants may be put for the Caterpillars to feed OIL. The most convenient size of the cage is about eight inches in breadth, four in depth, and one foot in height; it should contain one kind of Caterpillar only, as some species devour others; and indeed if left without food, they will even devour those of their own kind. At the bottom of each cage a quantity of earth should be placed, about two inches deep, mixed with a little sand, and some of the fine mould frequently found in the bodies of old trees, to prevent the earth drying up into hard lumps or clods. The cages should be placed in a cool and moist place, as in a cellar or out-house; for a great number of Caterpillars change into the pupa state several inches beneath the surface of the earth, and if kept too dry, the earth about them will absorb the nutritive moisture from the animal; thereby not only weakening it, but hardening the shell in which it is inclosed; so that its strength will be insufficient to burst the case when it should come forth in its perfect state. 182 ENTOMOLOGY. As some years produce a greater quantity of Caterpillars than others, and keeping each kind by themselves would not only require an immense number of cages, but much time to change the food, and pay a proper attention to them, it is a common practice to have a breeding-cage of much larger dimensions; so that a great number of Caterpillars may l>e fed in one cage, in which a variety of food may be kept: it should, however, be taken away, and the cage replenished with fresh plants every second or ird day, in order to obtain fine specimens of the perfect insects. For the mode of arranging, preparing, and preserving insects, much valuable information may be derived from a perusal of the Compendium of Entomology, by Mr. Samouelle; Messrs. Kirby and Spence's admirable and interesting work may also be read with advantage, by those who are desirous of obtaining an inti- mate knowledge of the habits and forms of the insect world. THE AVIARY. Th' affrighted Dove, by a fell Hawk pursued, For safety flew to thee, but found it not : She, hapless, was again cast forth, and died: Thou, ruthless man ! no more shall be a judge. x CCUSTOMED as our reader must be to the beautiful forms and plumage of many varieties of birds, she will, doubtless, feel an inclina- nation, not merely to possess some knowledge of the proper mode of treating those which are usually kept in the Aviary, but also to acquire an idea of the natural history of so interesting a class of the animal kingdom, as that to which they belong. In some degree to satisfy so laudable a desire, will be our object throughout the present article. Birds considerably exceed quadrupeds, in point of number, but fall short of them in size. The Ostrich, which is the largest bird known, is much less than many quadrupeds, and the smallest of these is larger than the Humming-bird. All birds are ovi- parous ; producing eggs, from which the young are subsequently hatched: they are very long-lived, and dispersed over the greater part of the earth. To man, birds are exceedingly useful, although but few species have been domesticated: the flesh of many of them affords us delicious food, and the plumage of others is ren- dered valuable by its application to a variety of purposes. 16 184 THE AVIARY. The bony frame in birds is much lighter than in quadrupeds; the cavities are larger, and it is altogether well calculated for the purpose of flight. The strong ridge down the middle of the breast- bone is adapted for the attachment of those powerful muscles by which the wings are moved. The breast-bone is very large; the neck long and flexible; and the spine immoveable. The bones of the legs are analogous to those of the hind legs of quadrupeds, and those of the wings, to their anterior limbs: the former termi- nate usually in four toes, three of which are placed before, and one behind. Some birds have only three toes, and a few but two ; and their position varies considerably in different individuals. The termination of the wings is in three joints only; the outer one of which is very short. The crop and gizzard are important parts of birds: the former is a membranaceous bag, which softens and prepares the dry food for the gizzard, into which it afterwards passes, and where, by means of two very powerful muscles, and a number of hard sub- stances which birds swallow, and which are retained in the gizzard for this purpose, the aliment is forcibly ground. In the Rapacious Birds, the gizzard is wanting; their stomachs being similar to those of quadrupeds* To whatever bird we may turn our attention, we shall find that it is furnished with a beak nicely adapted for its food and manner of feeding: and that there is often a marked affinity be- tween the beak and the foot. The celebrated Cuvier states, that we never meet with the sharp talons of the Eagle accompanying the flattened beak of the Swan. The birds which are mounted upon long stilt-like legs, have either long beaks or long bills, and sometimes both, to enable them to reach their food without diffi- culty ; the powerful legs and claws of the Rapacious order, enable the birds to seize their prey and assist them in tearing it; the claws of the Woodpecker, which, by means of its hard bill and long barbed tongue, is enabled to open clefts, and extract the insects which it eats, are so well adapted to its habits, that the young ones can climb up and down the trees before they are able to fly. The sight of birds, especially those of the Rapacious kind, is very acute : they possess the power of accommodating the eye to the various distances of objects, so as to see clearly such as are a great way off, and also those which are close to them. They derive this power, it is supposed, from a singular arrangement of scales round the iris, which enables them to elongate or shorten the axis THE AVIARY. 185 of the eye, according to circumstances. (Fig. 1, eye of the Owl; a, the iris, &c. very prominent; 6, a series of bony plates, or scales, which slide over each other, and allow of an altera- tion in the axis of the eye ; c, a portion of a square muscle, which draws down the crystaline lens, de- signated by a dotted line, and thus alters the focus of sight; d, the optic nerve.) It has been stated, on good authority, that within a short time after an animal has been killed, when not a speck was previously seen in the heavens, Vultures, in great numbers, have appeared approaching from im- mense distances towards the carcass, although not the least odour from putrefaction was perceptible. Similar facts are related, ac- companied by such circumstances as have led authors to believe, that the powers of scent, in some Rapacious Birds, are even greater than those of vision. Birds also possess the sense of hearing in great perfection They have no external appendages to the ear, except feathers : that of the Owl is remarkably large (Fig. 2). Connected to the cavity of the tympanum, or drum of the ear, of this bird, is a cellular structure, to which its extra- ordinary acuteness of hearing is in some degree attributed.-^ The organs of touch are more or less powerful in different birds. It is worthy of remark, that the bills of Ducks, Geese, and others of similar habits, are covered with a delicate membrane, so abundantly supplied with nerves, as to enable the birds to discover the food they seek beneath the surface of the mud. The plumage of birds is no less admirable for its nice adapta- tion to their necessities and manner of living, than for its richness and variety of colour. The feathers next the skin are furnished with a sort of down, which keeps the body of the bird warm ; the exterior ones are neatly folded over each other, tending in the same direction, and calculated, by their formation, to insure speed, as well as to keep out the wet and cold. Certain glands upon the hinder part of the back afford a quantity of oil, which the bird presses out with its bill, and rubs over its plumage to smooth and render it capable of affording a greater resistance to water. The Aquatic Birds have a more bountiful supply of this oil than those which live on land. The exterior feathers have a series of fila- ments regularly arranged on each side, forming two beards; the filaments of one being longer than those of the other; the edges on both sides are perfectly even, and neatly tapered off, by all the 186 THE AVIARY. filaments decreasing to a point at their extremities. If the fila- ments of any feather, which has not been too much damaged, be separated from each other, so as to stand completely upright, and the feather be then drawn lightly a few times through the finger and thumb, from the quill upwards, all the filaments will unite again, and recover their smooth and entire surface: so, when the bird's plumage gets ruffled, it is enabled to restore each feather to its proper state by bringing the filaments together through the mandibles of its bill; the edges of the filaments being furnished with hooks, by means of which, each locks itself fast to its neigh- bour. The shaft of the feather is light in its construction, slightly arched, of a material and size sufficiently strong for the purposes to which it is devoted, and lined with a soft pulp, for the nourish- ment of the laminae, or filaments, of which they are composed. The names and situa- tions of the principal feathers of birds, are as follows (Fig. 3:) a, the auriculars ; 6, the lesser coverts of the wings ; c, the greater coverts; d, the pri- maries, which spring from the first bone of d e c b f the wing; e, the se- condaries, which spring from the second bone of the wing; /, the four or five feathers which constitute the bastard wing; g-, the tertials; A, the scapulars; i, the tail coverts: the under coverts clothe the insides of the wings. The bones of a bird are hollow, and admit air from the lungs into their cavities ; thus the specific gravity of the body is de- creased, and the bird is better able to sustain itself on the wing. A number of air-bags, or cells, which communicate with the lungs, and run the whole length of the body, tend materially to the same effect: by means of these air-bags, which birds are enabled to fill or empty at pleasure, they can increase or diminish their specific gravity, more or less, as may be most expedient, in the various actions of diving (if water-birds,) soaring from the earth, or alight- ing upon it. Air-cells also extend along the muscles ; and these, in such birds as are most remarkable for their power of flight, are particularly large. Even the barrels of the quills are hollow and contain air ; so that a bird may be said to bear some resemblance THE AVIARY. 187 to an inflated balloon. Its air-cells, &c. render it so buoyant, that the body is indebted for but little support to the wings, which are therefore left, in a great measure, free, to increase the speed or direct the course. The addition to its specific gravity, obtained by compressing the body, so as to expel the air from the cells, enables the bird, if Aquatic, to descend rapidly from the surface of the water ; or, if Rapacious, to pounce with greater velocity, from its usual elevation, upon its prey beneath. The wings are placed in the most, advantageous situation for the purpose of flight ; the pectoral muscles, which are chiefly concerned in putting them in motion, are much stronger than in other animals. The power of the wings decreases, by almost imperceptible gradations, through different tribes, until at length the faculty of flying ceases altogether. While a few of the quadrupeds are endowed with wings which enable them to soar aloft from the earth, there are birds whose puny pinions will not support them for an instant in the air. Some possess the power of running with astonishing swiftness; others are capable of swimming with dif- ferent degrees of facility; a few can neither run nor fly; but to these, Nature has not been altogether a niggard; for where the Ostrich could not wade, nor the Eagle swim, the Penguin, whose feet Buflbn describes as resembling two broad oars, so situated as to render the bird exceedingly well qualified for its manner of living, floats in perfect security. NIDIFICATION. In the early part of spring most birds seek out mates, to which they attach themselves during the remainder of the season. Their first care is to select a proper place for building the nest; and, it is worthy of remark, that the little surveyors always fix upon a location admirably adapted to their habits, and the shape, strength, and materials of the nest they are about to build: it is almost, invariably similar to the places chosen for the like purpose by all the birds of the same species, as well now as heretofore. The nests of birds are as various in form and material as location. Concealment from their natural enemies is a great object during incubation; this they are taught by instinct, and by this are their labours governed: thus, the bird that builds its nest in the cleft of a tree, often coats it with the lichen which grows on the bark of the adjoining branch; the twigs, of which a Ring Dove's is composed, appear, at a cursory view, to be dead portions 16* 188 THE AVIARY. of the bough on which it is built ; the Linnet's is nearly of the same colour as the furze-bush wherein it is concealed ; and the Wren's looks like a heap of moss at the foot of a tree, or by the bank side, where it is built. Many birds merely select a hole in a tree, bank, rock, or old wall, which they line with some soft substance; others choose similar places, without making any addition for the warmth of their eggs, or the comfort of their young ones ; some, again, ex- cavate holes for their nests with their bills ; and other species take possession of holes made in this manner, which have been de- serted by the birds that made them. Those birds which do not mate, are careless as to the construction of the nest ; and several hens frequently lay in the same. The smaller tribes of birds are more expert in nidification than those of a larger growth. Among others, the nest of the Tailor-bird is very remarkable. It is constructed of one or two leaves, dexterously sewn together by a slender vegetable fila- ment ; and the interior is filled up with cotton. (Fig. 4.) But the Cuckoo, sweet harbinger of soft airs, herald of sunny mornings, the poet's pet, the schoolboy's delight, that mys- terious voice which like echo to him seems bodyless, for though its monotonous melody is often heard, it is but rarely seen, and, if seen, as rarely known to be a Cuckoo by its beholder; divested of the toils and joys which other birds experience, neither builds a nest, nor hatches nor rears its offspring : the pro- cess of nidification, as well as that of incu- bation, is performed for her by the Hedge-sparrow, the Titlark, the Yellow-hammer, or some other small bird. Leading a life of lazy luxury, all her occupation seems to be, making the meadows merry with her joyful note. She selects a nest which suits her fancy, generally a Hedge-sparrow's, and, while the owner is on the wing, contrives to drop her egg unperceived, and then, leaving it to the care of the nurse whom she has selected, never visits it again. INCUBATION. Shortly after the nest is completed, the female bird lays her eggs in it; and the process of incubation, or sitting, is com- THE AVIARY. 189 inenced when she has deposited the number usually laid by birds of her species. The eggs of birds are nearly all of the same form, but they differ in colour as well as size. The stronger, or more rapacious birds, lay a less number of eggs than those which have numerous, or powerful enemies, and are not endowed with the means of entering into an equal conflict with their adversaries, or destroying other individuals of a lesser rank. By this disposition a sufficient quantity of prey is provided for the rapacious; the number of which, not being subject to much reduction by the ravages of other creatures, when created, are produced only in such small quantities as not to be destructive to entire species: thus the balance is fairly maintained. The period of incubation varies with different species of birds : some hatch only once in the year; others, which incubate in a shorter time, have two or three, and some few, several broods during the season. The males of many species take no part in the task, but leave the business of incubation entirely to the female : this is the case with most of the birds that do not mate ; some of these are even most hostile towards the young when hatched. The males of other species feed the hen while she sits, and a great number share the important task of incubation. The most timid bird, during the period of sitting, or when rearing its nestlings, seems to have its nature changed; the Common Hen, however timid she may be on other occasions, will carelessly fly out at the dog, or assail that terror of the poultry tribe, the Kite, when encompassed by her beloved brood; and many birds, which are otherwise remarkably shy, will suffer them- selves to be lifted off their eggs when sitting. Nature, however, teaches the hen to drive her little ones from her side when they become capable of providing for themselves, in order that she may again recover sufficient vigour to rear a second brood. MIGRATION. There is nothing more remarkable in the habits of birds, than the regular migrations performed by many species from one country to another: several disappear to go we know not whither, and return we know not whence; but the places of emigration, as well as the time of the departure, and reappearance of a great portion of the birds of passage, are perfectly well known to naturalists. The causes for which they change their places of 190 THE AVIARY. abode, with the variation of the seasons, are, principally, the alteration of the temperature of the air, and a deficiency of that peculiar sort of food which they prefer during one part of the year, in each of the countries to and from which they migrate. CLASSIFICATION. Birds form a distinct class (AvES,) which Linmeus has divided into six orders: 1. ACCIPITRES (or Predacious.) 2. PICJE (or Pies.) 3. ANSERES (or Web-footed Birds.) 4. ORALLY (or Waders.) 5. GALLING (or Gallinaceous Birds.) 6. PASSERES (or Birds of the Sparrow kind.) Other orders have been added by naturalists, and minor alterations made, with a view of giving greater clearness. Pennant and Latham have separated birds into two divisions, LAND BIRDS and WATER BIRDS ; and sub-divided them into nine orders. There are other systems of birds, besides the above-mentioned. The celebrated naturalist, Cuvier, has divided the class into six orders: 1. BIRDS OF PREY (sub-divided into the Diurnal, as the Eagle, Hawk, &c. ; and the Nocturnal, as the Owl.) 2. PAS- SEREAUX (the Sparrow tribe.) 3. GRIMPEURS (the Climbers.) 4. GALLINACES (the Poultry tribe.) 5. ECHASSIERS (the Stilt- ed, or Waders.) 6. PALMIPEDES (the Web-footed.) Another eminent modern zoologist, N. A. Vigors, Esq. has recently brought into notice an arrangement called the Quinary System, which is founded on the supposition, that all animals may be separated and sub-divided into groups of five; as for instance: Birds with grasping claws, are either (1) PREYERS, (2) PERCHERS, (3) SCRATCHERS, (4) WADERS, or (5) SWIMMERS. The arrangement which will be adopted in this article is as follows : LAND BIRDS. 1. RAPACIOUS. I 3. COLUMBINE. I 5. PASSERINE. 2. PIES. I 4. GALLINACEOUS, j 6. STRUTHIOUS. WATER BIRDS. 7. WADERS. 8. WADERS, WITH PINNATED FEET. 9. WEB-FOOTED. We shall now proceed to notice some of the principal genera of the several orders. THE AVIARY. 191 RAPACIOUS. In this order are arranged the Vultures, Falcons, and Owls. They are all of a predacious nature, and their food is entirely animal. - 5 The characters are easily distin- guishable : the bill is curved and powerful; on each side, towards the end, there is a projection, like a tooth; the base is frequently covered with a naked membrane, called a cere (Fig. 5, a;) the legs are short, and the claws sharp- pointed and considerably curved. (Figs. 5 and 6, head and foot of the Eagle.) It is a remarkable fact, that the females of birds of prey, unlike those of the other orders, are rather larger and more powerful than the males. Vulture (Vultur:) This is the first genus of the Rapacious order. The head and neck, in most of the species, are destitute of feathers ; the bill is curved at the tip ; the legs are powerful ; but the talons are not so formidable in their appearance as those of some of the Eagles and Hawks. (Figs. 7 and 8, head and foot of the Monk Vulture.) Vultures are nume- rous in the warmer regions of the earth, where they are exceedingly useful in de- vouring animal remains, which would otherwise infect the air. They have been, aptly enough, termed the Scavengers of Nature in the animal world. In northern climates, where they would be of less utility, they are but rarely found. They generally build their nests in cliffs, which are almost inaccessible to man : the hen lays two eggs, and produces but one brood in the year. The most remarkable bird in this genus, is the South American Condor: its wings extend, when spread, to the immense distance of thirteen or fourteen feet. The Secretary, which has been by some authors, classed with the WADERS, and by others, ranged among the GALLING, is no\v 192 THE AVIARY. generally admitted to bear a close affinity to the Vultures. Its prey consists of snakes, and other reptiles ; for the destruction of which its form is well 9 adapted: the beak is short, thick, and curved nearly from the base, which is covered with a cere; the legs are long and slender; the toes short, the talons blunt, and but slightly curved. These birds are found in the south- ern parts of Africa: they build their nests in thick bushes, or among lofty trees; and live in pairs, like the Eagles. (Fig. 9, the Secretary.) Falcon (Falco:) This genus includes all the Eagles. Buz- 10 zards, Kites, Hawks, &c. The characters are a sharp, powerful, and hooked beak and claws, and a cere at the base of the bill, in which the nostrils are placed (See Figs. 5 and 6.) The Falcons may easily be distinguished from the Vultures, by having the head well clothed with feathers. (Fig. 10, head of Sparrow Hawk.) The Golden Eagle (Fig. 11) measures throe or four feet. The general colour of its plumage is a deep brown, dashed with tawny about the head and neck, and variegat- ed, in different parts, with darker shades. The cere is of a fine golden hue, and the bill is of a dark brown colour; the legs are feather- ed, the toes yellow, and the claws black. The eagle builds in mountainous places, and occasionally breeds in the northern parts of this country: its nest is compos- ed of large sticks, rushes?, heath, &c. The hen often lays three eggs, but it rarely occurs that more than two are prolific THE AVIARY. 193 The Buzzards are the most common of all this genus of birds in England: they are so indolent in their habits, that they often remain perched on the same branch for many hours togethei. They feed on all such kinds of young animals as they can catch and overcome, and even, occasion- ally, on carrion. The colour of Buzzards varies considerably, even in the same species : the coverts of the wings, and the feathers of the head and neck, are generally of a deep brown, with palish yellow edges ; the throat and breast, in some, is brown; and in others, variegated with spots on a yellow ground. The hen Buzzard fre- quently takes possession of, and repairs, a deserted crow's nest: she lays two or three eggs, which are entirely white, or white spotted with yellow. (Fig. 12, the Moor Buzzard.) The Kite (Fig. 13) is one of the ignoble class of Predacious birds : possessed of but little courage, it never attacks any bird or animal which is capable of offering much resistance: chickens are its favourite prey; but it avoids entering into a conflict with the hen, and rarely attempts to carry off any but such as have strayed to some distance from the parent bird. The Kite is easily distin- guished from the Buzzard, by its forked tail. In length it rather exceeds two feet ; the bill is much hooked, and furnished with bristles the base; the eyes, legs, and cere, are yellow ; the nails black ; the head and chin are of a light gray colour, streaked with brown ; the neck, breast, and tail are reddish; the back is brown, and the coverts of the wings black and white. The female builds in moun- tainous places, and lays two eggs of a whitish colour, spotted with dull yellow. The Hawks, in former times, were great favourites with persons of rank in this country; they were trained up for the 194 THE AVIARY. diversion of falconry, and supported at an immense expense. Even the ladies, in those days, enjoyed the diversion of hawking; and we frequently find figures of noble dames of by-gone times, sculptured with Hawks on their hands. Many volumes have been written on the mode of training these birds, and fortunes have been spent upon them. In the reign of Edward the Third, it was made felony to steal them; and a person who took a Hawk's eggs even on his own land, was punishable by imprisonment for a yeai and a day, and a fine at the king's pleasure. The Duke of St. Alban's, who is hereditary Grand Falconer of England, has, in a slight degree, lately renewed the sport of Hawking. The Jer-Falcon, the Lanner, the Kestrel, the Merlin, the Hobby, &c. were used in falconry. Of these, the Jer-Falcon was accounted the most intrepid and valuable. None of the Hawks possess any gaiety of plumage ; but some of them are certainly very elegant in their forms. The species best known in this country is, probably, the Sparrow Hawk (Fig. 14,) a very bold and cou- rageous bird, which commits great destruction among Pi- geons. The female lays four or five eggs, and builds her nest in high trees, or holes in rocks, and sometimes adopts the forsaken nest of a Crow. In the winter, Sparrow Hawks often resort to the roofs and steeples of churches in the metropolis, and commit great havoc among the flights of the pigeon-fanciers. Owl (Strix:) In this genus, which is the third of the Acci- PITRES, or Rapacious Birds, the bill is hooked, bristled at the base, and without any cere; the claws are strong and curved (Fig. 15 and 16, head and foot of the Brown Owl;) the tongue is bifid ; the eyes, head, and ears large: a circle of soft \vhite feathers surrounds the eyes, which are so formed, that the birds of this genus are capable of pursuing their prey with very little light. Although the greater part of the Owls are nocturnal birds, some species prey during the day-time; and these, it has been observed, bear a greater resemblance to the Hawks than the rest of the genus. THE AVIARY. 195 The Owls may be divided into two classes; namely, those with, and those without tufts of feathers growing up from the head, like ears, or horns. In the former class, the Great Horned Owl, which is sometimes found in England, is most conspicuous: it is the largest of the genus, being nearly equal in size to an Eagle ; it builds in rocks, or mountains, and feeds on young hares, rabbits, and even Pheasants and Grouse. The Long-eared Owl (Fig. 17) is well known in this country. It is about fourteen inches in length ; its plumage is marked with various shades of brown, yellow, and cream colour ; the legs and feet are covered with feathers. It in- habits ruined buildings and hollow trees, and the hen lays four or five eggs. The Short -eared Owl is nearly of the same size as the bird we have just noticed: its horns never consist of more than three feathers, while those of the Long- eared Owl are composed of six. The Short-eared Owl flies by day ; it is migratory, visiting this country in the latter end of the year, and departing again in the spring. The White Owl, Barn Owl, or Screech Owl, and the Brown Ivy Owl, are very common birds. The White Owl inhabits barns, out-houses, &c. Its feathers are principally of a fine buff colour, speckled with black and white ; the legs are feathered to the toes, and the wings extend beyond the tail. It lays four or five eggs, of a whitish colour, in the holes of walls. Its food generally consists of mice, of which it devours great numbers; swallowing them entire, and, afterwards, throwing up the bones, skin, &c. in small round masses. The Brown Owl frequents woods, and builds in hollows of trees. Its plumage is diversified with brown, black, white, and yellow; it is feathered to the toes, and feeds on mice, moles, &c. Some of this genus are remarkable for the small- ness of their size : there is a Siberian species which barely exceeds a Sparrow in bulk ; and another, the Little Owl (Fig. 18,) which is not much larger than the Thrush: it is occasionally found in England, and sees 17 196 THE AVIARY. better by day than night. It preys on small birds, mice, bats, large insects, &c. It plucks the feathers from the birds which it catches, tears them to pieces, and swallows them by morsels. Its plumage is brown, spotted with white, and a black edge borders the circular feathers on the face, which are also white. PIES. This order (Pic^: of Limraus) comprises a great number of birds, which differ materially in the shape of their bills and claws, and feed on various substances, insects, fish, flesh, &c. The food of the greater part of them is, however, of a vegetable nature. Among the Pic IE are classed the Crows, Woodpeckers, Birds of Paradise, Humming-birds, Jays, Parrots, Toucans, &c. Shrike (Lanius:) The Shrike has been, by most authors, placed in this order; but, notwithstanding the smallness of its size (being no bigger than a Thrush,) and the delicacy of its form, other naturalists, on account of its extraordinary powers and ra- pacious disposition, have arranged it with the ACCIPITRES, or Rapacious Birds. The genus is distinguished by the following characteristics: a strong bill, hooked at the end, but straight towards the base, which is fur- nished with bristles ; no cere ; the upper mandible notched near the tip ; the end of the tongue divided ; and the middle and outer toes connected as .far as the first joint. (Figs. 19 & 20, foot and beak of the Great Ash-coloured Shrike.) Endowed with the most astonishing courage, the Shrike will attack Crows, Magpies, Partridges, and even some of the powerful tribe of Falcons, and chase them from the neighbourhood of its nest. Incapable of tearing in pieces those small birds and animals, on which it preys, by means of its clawsj it very dexterously fixes them on a thorn, and there separates their limbs with its bill. To this singular habit the Shrike, doubtless^ owes its English name of the Butcher-bird. Pennant observes, that even when confined in a cage, the Shrike will fix its food against the wires before it begins to eat; and a traveller in Russia states, that a Butcher-bird, which he had procured in that country, and taught to perch on a stick, sharpened at one end, would seize any small bird that was let loose in the apartment, strangle it in an instant, and then forcibly transfix it on the stick with its bill and claws. If several THE AVIARY. 197 birds were given to him, lie would use them all in the same manner; and, when properly fixed, leave them dangling by the neck in his little larder, until his appetite urged him to devour them. In addition to this curious habit, the Shrike is said to imitate the notes of small singing-birds, in order to draw them near its haunts; and in America, we are told, the Butcher-birds bait thorns with grasshoppers, to decoy the lesser insectivorous birds into situations where they may easily be seized. That the Shrike transfixes insects on which it preys, as well as flesh, in the manner described, we see no reason to doubt; and, it may be, that it has killed other birds which attempted to despoil it of its food: but it is more probable that the insects are so placed, after the Shrike has had a full meal, by way of reserve for another occasion, rather than as a bait to other birds. The Great Ash-coloured Shrike (Fig. 21) is about ten inches in length; a black stripe passes from the beak along the side of the head, beyond the eye; the upper parts of the plumage are of a bluish ash-colour ; all the under parts, and the edges of the tail, are white ; a bar of the same colour crosses the wing. In the cultivated parts of England this bird is rarely seen. It builds in trees, and the female lays five or six eggs of a dusky green colour, variegated at the larger end with dark spots. The Lesser, or Red-backed Shrike, is a smaller species of this genus; similar in form, but different in plumage, to the Ash-coloured Butcher-bird. The colours of some of the foreign Shrikes are remarkably beautiful : varieties of them are found in Africa, as well as in different parts of Europe and the New World; all of which transfix their prey in the manner we have described. Parrot (Psittacus:) This genus contains a great number of species: the distinguishing charac- ters, are a hooked beak ; the tongue obtuse and fleshy ; nostrils situated on !' ijj ^-gi^-- n^ the base of the beak (Figs. 22 and 23, tongue and beak of the Parrot;) and the feet scansorial, that is,with two of the toes placed forwards, and two backwards; being thus well adapted for climbing. (See foot of the Woodpecker, p. 207.) 198 THE AVIARY. These birds are inhabitants of the warm regions of Asia, Africa and America; their chief food, in a natural state, consists of fruits and berries; and their mode of feeding is singular: they hold what they are about to eat in their claws, and, in bringing it to their mouths, turn the foot outwards; while doing this, the bird stands on its other leg. The Parrots use their bills in climb- ing, as well as feeding. Unlike most other birds, they have the upper mandible of the beak separated from the skull-bone: they are thus enabled, notwithstanding the bill is so much hooked, to open their mouths sufficiently wide to receive their food with- out difficulty. The power possessed by birds of this genus, of imitating the human voice, and the beauty of their plumage, have rendered them great domestic favourites. Their faculty of imitating sounds is almost as great as that of monkeys in mimicking actions. Their natural notes are, for the most part, exceedingly harsh and dis- cordant; so that, however imperfectly the splendid pupil may copy the tones of its mistress (and a Parrot's teachers are usually females,) it is a much more agreeable companion than an untaught bird of this genus, which can only scream " its native wood-notes wild." Goldsmith remarks, that in going through France, he could not help remarking how much plainer the Parrots there spoke French, than those in his own country spoke English. He was inclined to ascribe this to the different qualities of the two languages; but a friend set him right, by assuring him, that the French women scarcely did anything else the whole day, but instruct their pupils ; and that this con- stant schooling made the birds perfect in their lessons. In this genus are found the gorgeous Macaws, the largest of the Parrot kind, which, for splendour of plumage, may claim precedence of nearly all the feathered tribe. One of the finest of the group is the Blue and Yellow Macaw (Fig. 24:) the upper parts of its body are of a most exquisite glossy and sparkling azure; the under parts are of a rich and vivid yellow ; the cheeks are marked with three lines of small black feathers, on a white ground, and tinted with flesh colour; the throat is ornamented with a fine stripe, or collar, of a greenish black; and the feathers THE AVIARY. 199 on the head are of a green hue, partaking, in a considerable de- gree of yellow. The Great Green Macaw, and the Deep Blue Macaw, are scarcely less beautiful ; and even some of the Common Parrots, although inferior to the magnificent Macaws in size, are certainly not so in splendour of plumage. The Cockatoos, in a state of nature, like the other birds of this genus, live upon vegetable substances and seeds: they are dis- tinguished by an elegant crest of feathers, often of a different colour to the rest of the plumage, and which may be raised or depressed at will. There are several species of these birds. The Great Black Cockatoo, which, Buffon sportively remarks, may be called the negro of the Cockatoos (as they are generally white,) is as large as a Macaw: the crest is of a lightish gray; the rest of the plumage is of a bluish black, or dark lead colour : this bird is a native of Ceylon, and, we believe, the largest species of the Cockatoo. The Paroquets are less than the Common Parrots; some of the varieties are of very brilliant plumage : their tails are long ; and they are principally natives of the East and West Indies. Among those most generally known, are the Ring Paroquet, the Red-breasted Paroquet, and the Large Paroquet. The Lories are also included in this genus; there are several species of them ; among which, the Scarlet Lory is the most re- markable for beauty of plumage. Toucan (Ramphastos:) The characteristics of this genus are, a large convex bill, serrated about the edges, and both mandibles bent at the apex (Fig. 25, beak of the Toucan;) the edges of the tongue feathered ; the nostrils near the base of the bill; and the feet formed for climbing. There are several species of the Toucan: they are mostly natives of South America; and their habits and general conformation are nearly similar, though they differ in size and colour. They feed on vegetables, fruits, and berries. The bill, although so prodigiously large, is not formed for a weapon of attack, being so exceedingly thin, that it has been termed a mere case for the tongue, with which the bird takes its food and forms its nest. The nostrils are placed in a black line running round the base of the bill, and are nearly covered with feathers: this, says Edwards, occasioned our first naturalists to say it was without nostrils, and set them on straining their wits to supply that want some other way. The 17* 200 THE AVIARY. Red-beaked Toucan (Fig. 26) is shaped like a Jackdaw; though no bigger than a Common Pigeon, its bill is six inches and a half long, and more than two inches deep. The plumage on the throat is white ; there is a dash of fine red on the breast ; the coverts under the tail are also red, and those above, yellow; the other parts are black; the claws, feet, and legs, are ash-co- loured; the mandibles are partly red and partly yellow the base of the lower one is purplish, and its point black. Hornbill (Buceros:) This genus consists of birds of very large size; " distinguished, 5 * says an eminent naturalist, " by the excessive size of their beaks, which are often still farther remarkable for some kind of large prominence on the up- per mandible." (Fig. 27, beak of Hornbill.) The use of this strange process, to quote the words of the same author, in his description of the Rhinoceros Bird, is, by some, supposed to be that of tearing out the entrails of its prey; but others affirm, that it is not of a predacious nature, feeding only on vegetable substances. The Rhinoceros Bird is as large as a Turkey, but it is more slender in its shape ; the tail is white, crossed by a black bar ; the rest of the plumage is black. It is principally found in the East-India Islands. Crow (Corvus:) This genus contains several species: among them are reckoned the Common Crow, the Raven, Jackdaw, Chough, Mag- pie, and Jay. The characters are, a knife-shaped, convex bill (Fig. 28, beak of the Crow ; ) nostrils covered with reclining bristly feathers: a carti- laginous and bifid tongue, and ambu- latory feet (Fig. 29, foot of the Crow.) The crow is a very common bird: it feeds on carrion, insects, grain, and, indeed, on almost everything that comes in its way: it is an enemy THE AVIARY. 201 both to the sportsman and the farmer : it not only carries off the eggs of Partridges, to feed its nestlings with, but destroys young game, poultry, and Pigeons, and even deprives lambs of their eyes. In fact, the Crow has scarcely a friend among the rustic population of this country: every man's hand is lifted against it; and its body is frequently seen nailed as a trophy to barn-doors, with those of the fox, the pole-cat, the weasel, and the hawk. The Crow generally builds its nest in solitary woods, and lays four or five eggs. The Raven, according to a classic fable, was once white; but Apollo compelled him to assume mourning as a punishment for being the bearer of some unpleasant tidings. It is still said to be a bird of evil omen ; but is, nevertheless, frequently domesticated, and taught to utter words. It is described as possessing " many diverting and mischievous qualities; active, curious, sagacious, impudent, and mischievous ; by nature, a glutton ; by habit, a thief; in disposition, a miser; and in practice, a rogue." The Raven, however, evinces an extraordinary degree of attachment to its nestlings. Mr. White, in his Natural History of Selborne, men- tions a large oak, on the topmost branches of which a pair of Ravens had, for a series of years, fixed their residence: at length, the day arrived when the wood was to be levelled: " It was in the month of February, when Ravens usually sit: the saw was applied to the butt, the wedges were inserted in the opening, the woods echoed to the blows of the beetle, or mallet, the tree nodded to its fall; but still the dam (the mother Raven) sat on: at last, when it gave way, the bird was flung from her nest ; and though her parental affection deserved a better fate, was whipped down by the twigs, which brought her dead to the ground." Ravens live to a great age ; they feed on carrion and small birds ; and build on high trees, or solitary eminences. The Jackdaw is rather less than the Crow. The birds of this species are gregarious: they build about old, ruinous buildings, and feed on insects, fruit, grain, nuts, &c. The Jackdaw, like the Magpie, the Jay, and the Raven, is often domesticated, and taught to articulate. A very absurd custom prevails, of slitting the tongues of these birds, under a mistaken idea of thus im- proving their powers of imitating human speech. In days long past, as we well remember, one of those fine rocks, which, before they were quarried out to pave the streets of Bristol, rose almost perpendicularly from the banks of the yellow Avon, was the abiding place of innumerable Daws; they 202 THE AVIARY. built in its clefts and crannies, wholly inaccessible to the foot of man, behind a veil of ivy, and other creeping plants. But the boys of Clifton, at that time, frequently lowered one of their companions by a rope from the summit of the stupendous rock, Avho, with a couple of satchels slung over his shoulders, robbed the nests as he dangled in the air; and descended to the bank below, heavily laden with the eggs and nestlings of the Daws. The writer of these pages has frequently indulged in such freaks, thinking them, at that time, matters of little moment. A troop of boys, from Bristol, once, in his presence, essayed this perilous feat. They fixed an iron bar in the turf, at the top of the rock, wound a rope round it, and slung the boy, who was to descend by one end of it, in the usual manner. The youth went over the edge of the rock, and had descended thirty or forty feet, when those above, whose duty it was to hold the other end of the rope, and let it out by degrees, perceived the bar, round which, for safety's sake, it was wound, moving in the turf. One of them quitted his place, to fix the bar more firmly : the others imme- diately, in a state of extreme terror, dropped the rope : the boy who was descending, suddenly felt it slackened: he uttered one shriek, fell, like a log,, upon the rocky bank below, and was dashed to pieces. Strange to say! his fate did not deter others from following the same pranks i within a week, a bar was fixed in the same turf, and a boy descended that identical rock, in quest of eggs and nestlings, as if nothing had happened. The Magpie is petulant, voracious, and thievish; he refuses scarcely any kind of food ; he will rob the nests of other birds of their eggs ; and < c a maimed Lark, or chicken separated from the hen, are to him sure objects of spoil." He is impudent and swag- gering, without being courageous: and not only steals his food, but articles that are of no use to him whatever: like the youthful miser, he frequently puts his treasures in such places, that he actually conceals them from himself. The Magpie's nest is made of thorns dexterously interwoven, with a hole at the side for admittance, and furnished with a lining of wool, and other soft materials: the hen lays six or eight eggs of a pale green colour, with black spots. " The thievish Jay" is one of the most beautiful of British birds: its belly, breast, neck, and back, are purple, tinged with gray; and the greater wing-coverts beautifully barred with black, blue, and white. Jays feed on acorns, berries, and fruit; but they do not restrict themselves entirely to a vegetable diet, as THE AVIARY. 203 they will sometimes destroy chickens, and even carry off birds that have been caught in traps, or with bird-lime. The Jay is exceedingly restless and noisy; " frequently de- priving the anxious gunner of his intended prey, by alarming, too soon, his destined victim; for, the mo- ment it espies a person, it sets up a harsh, chattering scream, whereby its associates, and all others, know that an enemy is near." The Jay's nest is composed of roots and twigs : it builds in woods, and usually lays five eggs of a dull white colour, marked with brown. The young remain with the old birds until the pairing time. (Fig. 30, the Jay). Rooks are well-known birds, but they are not so numerous as they formerly were ; for, in times gone by, almost every mansion possessed a busy, clamorous, city of Rooks among its stately avenues, or encircling belt of lofty elms; and it was pleasant to see the Rook winging homeward at dusk to his habitation, " far, far away," to hear the many tenants of a tree, clamour, even after it was dark, as if, on account of the late arrivals of some of the family, arrangements had not yet been made for the night, to watch an old Rook march, solemnly as an undertaker at a funeral, after the plough, and, ever and anon, appear to condescend to pacify his appetite, by gobbling up one of the larvae of the chafer, which had been turned out by the share. Although petulant and quarrelsome at times, and however a Rookery may be disturbed by intestine broils, there is a great deal of moral dignity about these birds. They bicker egregiously, even with a female Rook, on ordinary occasions, but no sooner does she lay, than all her neighbours treat her with the greatest respect, and suffer her to pursue the labour of incubation perfectly unmolested. Should a stray Rook enter a community, he is immediately set upon and expelled; by this die Rooks at once prove, that they have a considerable portion of sagacity, and are totally deficient in the laudable virtue of hospi- tality. They begin to build about the latter end of February; and it is truly amusing to observe the cunning they exhibit, and the contests that occur among them, to obtain possession of a twig. We have frequently seen the labours of a pair of young Rooks for many days, demolished, and every atom of the nest carried off, in as many minutes, while the industrious and inno- 204 THE AVIARY. cent pair, as yet unversed in the ways of Rookeries, were both at some little distance, eagerly intent on increasing their little store of sticks. Roller (Coracias:) The Roller, or Garrulous Roller (which name it has obtained from the chattering noise it makes,) has a 31 straight black bill, hooked at the point, and the base covered with bristles (Fig. 31;) there is a wart below each ear ; the eye is encircled with a naked skin of a yellow colour. The Roller is about the size of the Jay; its plumage displays an exquisite union of the most beautiful shades of blue and green, mixed with white, reddish brown, and black. It feeds on worms, seeds, berries, &c. and is common in every part of Germany, but rare in this country. This bird is said to be migratory in May and September. It generally builds its nest in birch-trees; but it is stated that in those countries where wood is scarce, as in Malta, and some parts of Africa, the Roller makes its nest on the ground : " If this be the fact," observes Buffon, " it will follow, that the instincts of animals can be modified by situation, climate, &c." The eggs are of a pale green colour, with nu- merous dull spots ; they are about the size of those of a Pigeon. (Fig. 32, the Garrulous Roller.) Paradise (Paradisea:) There are several species of this genus, all of which are remarkable for the beauty of their plumage. The characters are, a somewhat lengthened, slightly-curved, and sharp-pointed bill, beset with soft feathers at the base ; and in most of the species, certain peculiarly constructed feathers, ex- ceeding the rest of the plumage in length, spring from beneath the wings. It was formerly supposed that the Birds of Pa- radise were continually on the wing, and destitute of legs and feet: this idea has, however, been exploded ; in fact, the legs and feet of the Birds of Paradise are remarkably large and stout, in proportion to their size. (Figs. 33 and 34, beak and claw of the Greater, or Common Bird of Paradise.) THE AVIARY. 205 Among the spicy and luxuriant groves of the Philippine and other Indian Islands, the Birds of Paradise associate in immense numbers. It is a popular error that they always follow the king bird, who is distinguished by the exceed- ing beauty of his plumage: he is about the size of a blackbird; two filaments proceed from the tail, which are mere shafts, until within a short distance of the extremities, where they become bearded on one side, and terminate in a large circle, open in the centre, of an emerald co- lour, bright, and ever-varying. The Greater, or Common Bird of Para- dise (Fig. 35,) is principally remark- able for the peculiar feathers, of a fine light yellow colour, terminating in white, which, emerging from beneath the wings, extend to a considerable distance beyond the feathers of the tail. The webs of these beautiful plaits are open, and resemble very fine hairs. The Gold-breasted Bird of Paradise is about the size of a Dove: its head, cheeks, back, tail, wings, and part of the throat, are of a fine black, shaded with violet: its neck and breast are of a gold colour, and a fine band crosses the back of the neck, of an united and varying tint of gold, green, red, and violet. Several black feathers, the beards of which are separated like those of the Ostrich, point upwards, and, as it were, embrace the wings; and three long black filaments, terminating in oval webs, spring from each side of the head, diverging in angular forms, and extend to a fourth part of the length of the tail* The genus com- prises several species, besides those which we have noticed; among them the Lyra is conspicuous from the form and beauty of its tail, which bears a singular resemblance to the musical instrument from which the bird takes its name (Fig. 36, tail of the Lyra.) In the evening, the Birds of Paradise perch on lofty trees, in which the natives lie concealed for the purpose of shooting them with blunt arrows. Their principal food is said to be the larger 206 THE AVIARY. kind of butterflies and moths. The absurd notion of the Birds of Paradise wanting legs and feet, was, doubtless, occasioned by the natives of the islands, where they are taken, cutting off those parts before they sold the stuffed birds. Cuckoo (Cuculus:) Of all the species of this genus, the Com- 37 __ mon Cuckoo alone visits this country. The general characters are, the bill small and smooth, tapering and arched; the tongue short, entire, membranaceous, and termi- nated by hairs; and the feet scansorial. (Figs. 37 and 38, beak and foot of the Cuckoo.) A very distinguishing mark of the Common Cuckoo is the roundness and prominence of its nostrils. In shape, the Common Cuckoo (Fig. 39) is something like a Magpie, and rather less in size than a pigeon ; the head, the upper part of the body, the wings, and tail, are finely marked with black and tawny stripes; the ground-colour of the body is gray; there are a few white spots on its head, and on the exterior edges of the feathers of the tail: its legs are short and yellow. It is not known where this bird passes the winter. Some assert that it is migratory; and others, that it re- mains in hollow trees, &c. in a torpid state, during the cold season. It would appear from the statements of some naturalists, that the Cuckoo does not always deposit its eggs in the nests of other birds ; although this seems to be its general custom. The species of this genus are numerous: one of them, the Honey Cuckoo, is very singular in its habits. It is found in the interior of Africa; " it indicates to honey-hunters where the nests of wild bees are to be found. It calls them with a cheerful cry, which they answer; and, on finding itself recognised, flies and hovers over a hollow tree containing the honey. While they are occupied in collecting it, the. bird goes to a little distance, where he observes all that passes; and the hunters, when they have helped themselves, take care to leave him his portion of the food. There is the Cuculus Indicator of Linna?us, otherwise called the Moroe, Bee-Cuckoo, or Honey-Bird." 1 THE AVIARY. 207 The note of this bird bears no similarity to that of the Eu- ropean Cuckoo. In Dr. Spelman's account, we find it stated, that in the morning and evening, when the bird feeds, it is heard calling, in a shrill tone, " Cherr! cherr!" It is also remarked, in a note to Buffon, that according to some travellers, the cry of this bird is "Wicki! wicki!" and this word signifies honey, in the Hottentot language. Woodpecker (Picus :) Woodpeckers are found in various parts of the world they live on insects ; in search of which they are generally seen climbing up and down trees. They are admirably calculated for their mode of life: the foot of the Woodpecker is scan- serial (Fig. 40 ; ) its tongue is long and slender ; its point (Fig. 41, a) is sharp and barbed; it is furnished with a powerful set of muscles, affixed to two long, slender and elastic processes of the os hyoides, or bones of the tongue, which, passing backward close to the arti- culation of the lower man- dible (&,) encircle the back part of the head, and ter- minate (at c) on the frontal bone. By means of this curious apparatus, the bird has the power of darting its tongue into clefts and crevices of great depth, where it transfixes the insects on which it feeds. It is also capable, 42 by means of its bill, which is sharp, strong, and pointed, of boring holes in trees. The tail is composed of ten remarkably stiff and sharp- pointed feathers (Fig. 42;) these are bent in- wards, and the bird supports itself upon them when climbing, or clinging to the trunks of trees. Nearly all the Woodpeckers lay their eggs in holes, formed by the birds' bills, except those of Guinea and Brazil, which suspend their curious habitations from slender boughs, " where neither the mischievous monkeys, nor the numerous snakes, which, in vain, wreath their terrific forms round the trunks below, can possibly reach them." It is worthy of observation, that the Woodpeckers in other parts of the world do not even line the holes, in which they lay their eggs, with feathers, wool, or any material whatever. There are many varieties of this genus. Buffon, in his account of the Yellow Woodpecker of Cayenne, says that the natives call it the Yellow Carpenter. There is also a three-toed Woodpecker, 18 208 THE AVIARY. having two toes before and one behind: both of these birds, like most of the genus, have fine plumage. The Green Woodpecker 43 is a well-known English species: it is called, in several parts, the Laugher, from its making a noise very much like laughing, " particularly before the wel- come showers of spring." The Carolina Woodpecker (Fig. 43) is rather less than the Green Woodpecker: the top of its head and neck are of a beautiful scarlet colour; the breast is olive, the belly red- dish, and the back, wings and tail black, with markings of light brown and white. The smallest of the genus is a native of South America, and about the size of a Wren. Kingfisher (Alcedo:) "The little Halcyon's azure plume" has too often delighted our eyes, while " reclining beneath the willow," to suffer us to pass over this favourite of the poets without a notice. The characters of the genus are, a straight, strong, and sharp bill (Fig. 44 ; ) a short sharp- pointed tongue (a;) and the three lower joints of the exterior toe at- tached to the middle one. (Figs. 44 and 45, beak, tongue, and foot of the Kingfisher.) The Common Kingfisher (Fig. 46) is larger than the Swallow: the upper mandible of the bill is black; the lower, yellow: the coverts of the wings, and the top of the head are dark green, spotted with azure ; the belly is orange ; and the back and tail are of a brilliant blue. This bird is very voracious ; it preys upon small fish : hovering over the surface, as the Hawk above its quarry, the Kingfisher, as soon as an opportunity occurs, darts with unerring aim upon its victim. The male is remarkable for its attention to the female during incubation ; he brings her large quantities of fish to the nest in which she is sitting; and thus the hen Kingfisher, unlike other birds, is always, at this season, in excellent condition. As the THE AVIARY. 209 Woodpecker bores holes in trees, so does the Kingfisher, by means of its bill, excavate a nest in the bank of some stream, in which there is plenty of fish. The nest-hole is usually a yard in depth, wider at the bottom than the top, and lined with the down of the willow-tree. Hoopoe (Upupa:) The characters of this genus are, an obtuse, short, triangular tongue; a convex, bent, obtuse beak (Fig. 47, beak of the Hoopoe;) and ambulatory feet. The Common Hoo- poe is a migratory bird, and leaves our northern climate about the end of August; in appearance it is about the size of a pigeon; although, in fact, it is much less than that bird; weighing, when stripped of its feathers, about three ounces only. The head is adorned with a crest, which the bird has the power of raising or depressing at will: it is composed of two series 48 ^IBSV of feathers, the tops of which are black and white, and the other parts of a pale orange colour; the tail is black, with a white crescent on it, the horns of which point to wards its extremity. The wings are black, transversely streaked with white. The Hoo- poe feeds on insects; it makes no nest, but lays its eggs in the hole of a wall, tree, or bank (Fig. 48, the Hoopoe.) Humming Bird (Trochilus:) This is a very large genus of 49 _^ a beautiful and interesting species. The cha- racters are, a remarkably fine beak, longer than the head, and terminating in a delicate tube ; the upper forming a sort of case for the lower mandible ; the tongue formed of two threads, tubular and filiform ; and the feet ambulatory. (Fig. 49, beak of Humming Bird.) The Humming Birds in America are as numerous as butterflies here: many of them no larger than bumblebees; and they have been described as hovering, " from morn till dewy eve," about the flowers, and extracting their sweet juices without ever settling upon them. This statement is, however, erroneous; for birds have scarcely any power of suction. Wilson, the author of the American Ornithology, has frequently found insects in the crop of 210 THE AVIARY. the Trochilus colubris; and the experienced Waterton positively asserts, that Humming Birds feed on insects. In the warm regions they live in the fields the whole year round: in the colder climates they remain torpid during the winter. The nest of the Humming Bird is elegant, and delicate as its fairy architect: the materials of which it is composed, are chiefly small vegetable fibres, and fine moss ; it is lined neatly, and suspended from the bough of the citron, the orange, or the pomegranate-tree. The eggs of the smallest of these magnificent little beauties, are about the size of a small pea, and the male and female both 60 jf incubate: die male bird relieves his mate in the morning and evening, when the flowers are sweetest, and just refreshed with dew. The Humming Bird does not derive its name from its note, which is a low chirrup, interrupted, and rather unpleasing, but from the humming noise produced by the quick motion of its wings. No general description could impart an idea of the plumage of these birds, they differ so widely in their hues: the breasts of some of the species display all the colours of the rainbow, visibly united, but so finely blended, that it is impossible to fix the boundaries of either (Fig. 50, the Humming Bird.) In the genera of this order, which our limits have prevented us from noticing, there are many interesting birds: among others, the Oriole, which is found in various parts of Europe; the Nuthatch, a bird well known in this country, which lays in holes of trees, frequently those deserted by the Woodpecker; the Creeper, con- taining a great number of species ; the most common of which are little birds, often seen in this country run- ning about trees, like mice, and frequently following the Woodpecker in search of those insects which the larger bird has disturbed in its operations; the Honey-eater, remarkable for the curious formation of its tongue; the Wryneck, Grakle, &c. (Fig. 51, head of Honey-eater ; a, the end of the bird's tongue more dis- tinctly shown.) GALLINACEOUS. The Gallinaceous birds are such as are allied, in many parti- culars, to the Common Fowl. They are careless in the structure of their nests, and lay a great number of eggs. Their food consists THE AVIARY. 211 of grain, seeds, and, in some cases, insects. To this order belong the Common Fowl, Pheasant, Turkey, Partridge, Quail, and other 53 birds of similar habits. Their bills are convex, rather short, and strong ; the upper mandible closing over the edges of the lower. Their feet are formed for scratching, and usu- ally connected with a membrane, as far as the first joint. (Figs. 52 and 53, foot and beak of Partridge.) Peacock (Pavo:) This genus occupies a very distinguished place among the GALLING. The head of the Peacock is ornamented with a crest of slender feathers, the colour of which, as well as that of the throat, neck, and breast, is a fine golden-tinted green; the other parts of the plumage either partake of the same tints, or, by their sober hue, afford a contrast which enhances the beauty of the head and train. The female, which is not distin- guished by any of the dazzling plumage of the cock, lays five or seven eggs, and sits from twenty-five to thirty days. The young birds are very difficult to rear, and do not shine forth, in the full pride of crest and train, until the third year. Peacocks, as Avell as Pheasants, are, occasionally seen entirely white; and, as is also the case with the latter birds, the hen Peacocks, after they have ceased laying, sometimes acquire the plumage of the cock. Juno's chariot was said to be drawn by a team of these beautiful creatures, whose trains were embellished by the goddess with the hundred eyes of Argus. As an ornament of the park and the plea- sure-ground, the Peacock stands unrivalled; its form is graceful, its motions elegant, and its plumage exquisite; but, on the other hand, its voice is hideous, its appetite voracious, and its disposition quarrelsome. An object more splendid than the Peacock, proudly expanding its gorgeous train, and, apparently, delighting in the admiration of its beholders, it is difficult to conceive; " his pace is slow and solemn; and he frequently turns slowly and gracefully round, as if to catch the sun-beams in every direction, and produce new colours of inconceivable richness and beauty." In the language of a great naturalist, its matchless plumage seems to combine all that delights the eye in the soft and delicate tints of the finest flow r ers, all that dazzles it, in die sparkling lustre of gems, and all that astonishes it, in the grand display of the rainbow. What a pity it is, that so noble, so admirable a bird, should be debased by its capricious gluttony and unsociable temper! Its natural food is grain, seeds, and insects ; but of these it will destroy, if an 18* 212 THE AVIARY. opportunity occur, even more than it can eat. Fond of roaming from its allotted place of abode, with which it is never satisfied, the Peacock ascends the walls which arc intended to confine it, reaches even the tops of the highest houses, and frequently makes the most lamentable ravages in the gardens adjacent. It will root up the choicest plants, nip off the tender buds, and rake seeds out of the ground; it will tear the thatch out of a building; and, in its grave recreations, seems to be, indeed, most ingeniously mischievous. The Peacock is a native of India. Alexander the Great, when he first beheld these birds, was so delighted with the magnificence of their plumage, as to have forbidden any person to destroy one of them on pain of death. It is not generally known, perhaps, that the splendid set of feathers, usually called the tail of the Peacock, spring, in fact, from the lower part of the back : the true tail being short, like that of a hen, and serving to support the long and beautiful feathers which compose the train. These feathers, and the crest, constitute the characters of the genus. Turkey (Meleagris:) The bill of the Turkey is short and convex; there is a fleshy appendage on the base of the upper mandible, which the bird is capable of raising or contracting at pleasure; the head and neck are covered with naked flesh of a reddish purple hue; the nostrils are pointed at one end, and lodged in a membrane ; there is a tuft of black on the breast, and the legs are furnished with blunt knobs, or the rudiments of spurs. The bird has the power of extending its tail, which consists of eighteen feathers, in the manner of a Peacock. Like all other domesticated birds, Turkeys are of various colours, white, black, gray, speckled, &c. In a wild state, the general colour of the plumage is black ; in some parts it is of a variable hue, between bronze colour, glossy green, and purple. Turkeys are said to have been originally brought from the New World. It is rather sin- gular, that the young of these birds, which are so particularly tender, and difficult to rear in this country, thrive remarkably well in a state of nature among the wilds of Canada, where the tops of the mountains are, during a great part of the year, covered with snow. The hen Turkey lays from fifteen to eighteen eggs, which are whitish and rather freckled. She begins to lay early in die spring, and is very attentive to her young, but rarely has more than one brood in the year. Ants and their larvae, and other insects, are the favourite food of young Turkeys. The Turkey has been very correctly described as being, gene- THE AVIARY. 213 rally speaking, notwithstanding its furious disposition, a very cowardly bird. We have seen him fly from the Common Domestic Cock ; and he will do so from almost any animal or bird that has courage enough to face him ; but to those who are awed by his important strut, great size, and threatening aspect, he is truly tyrannical. He seerns to entertain an especial aversion to lap- dogs: if he have the good fortune, by his outward show of courage, to put one of these, or any other small animal, or a bird, even a mouse, or a Sparrow, to flight, he returns to his hens, " strutting in conscious pride of his valour." Pintado (Numida:) The head of the Pintado, or Guinea Fowl, is naked, like that of the Turkey ; and it carries its tail 54 pendulous, as the Partridge. Its plumage, although plain when at a distance, is singu- larly beautiful if closely examined: the general colour is a darkish gray, sprinkled with white, round, pearly spots: a sort of cone-shaped horn ornaments the top of the head, and from the sides of the upper man- dible depend two loose wattles (Fig. 54;) those of the male are rather blue ; those of the female red. The Guinea Fowl (Fig. 55) was, originally, a native of Africa, and thence, in the year 1508, introduced to America, where its numbers increased surprisingly. It is now common among our poultry; but does not live very amicably with the other domes- ticated birds ; frequently disturb- ing the grave Goose and busy dame Partlet with its loud and unmusical clamour, its petulant sprightliness, and assumption of a dominion which it is incapable of maintaining. Its flesh is very much like that of the Pheasant; it also resembles that bird in many of its habits. The hen lays a great number of eggs, which are of most excellent flavour. In ancient Rome, the Pintado was much more highly prized, as an article of luxury for the table, than with us. In the London markets its price seldom exceeds that of a fine fowl. Pheasant (Phasianus:) With the exception of the Peacock, the birds of this genus are, perhaps, the most beautiful of the GALLING. The Pheasant is said to be so called, from Phasis, a 214 THE AVIARY. river in Asia, whence it was first brought. In some parts -of England, a variety is found, with a fine white ring round the lower parts of the neck. There is another sort, with plumage as white as snow; and which, it is said, do not associate with the common birds: this we are inclined to think is an error; for, in those late and stately woods, in which we passed our holyday hours in the spring-time of life, robbing the provident squirrel of all the hazel-nuts in his winter horde (to the shame of our youth be it spoken!) or setting wire-nooses, as poachers do for hares, to catch the lazy adder, in order to enrich our miniature museum with his fangs, beneath the old oak, or graceful beech, that " lady of the woods," have we, more than once, flushed a hen Pheasant, white as a pearl, with a motley brood about her; some of them without even a feather in their plumage, by which they might claim kin to the attentive mo- ther - bird, under whose wing they had been nestled. Several varieties, of extraordinary bril- liancy of plumage, including those admirable birds, the Gold and Silver Pheasants of China, are frequently kept in Aviaries, of which they form a most dis- tinguished ornament. The Pea- cock Pheasant, or Iris Pheasant of Latham (Fig. 56,) is described by Edwards as being one of the greatest beauties in nature. We may compare it, he says, to sable, thickly set with shining jewels of various colours. Buffon has denominated it the Epcrronnier, from the singular fact of its having two spurs on each leg. In a state of nature, Pheasants are very attentive to their broods ; but they become careless if confined ; it is usual, there- fore, to place the eggs under a common hen, and to suffer her to bring up the young birds when hatched. They should, if possible, be moderately supplied with the larvae of ants, with earwigs, and other small insects: when grown up, they may be fed on acorns, wheat and other grain, and berries. Young Pheasants are often kept under large nets, stretched over a group of shrubs, in parks or pleasure-grounds; and in such situations, if properly fed, attain a size and plumage almost equal to those of the wild ones. The THE AVIARY. 215 male crows like the Common Cock ; and the female lays her eggs, which are generally from ten to fifteen in number, in a rude nest of dry grass, or roots, on the ground. Some of the species of the Domestic Cock are still found in a native state in the jungles of India: however beautiful our own chanticleer may be, the wild birds, in their native climes, exceed him considerably in splendour of plumage. Several varieties of these most useful birds have been imported from different countries, to enrich and embellish our farm-yards: they are to be found in almost every part of the world; every country, and, frequently, even districts of the same country, producing different kinds. These innumerable distinctions are, doubtless, to be attri- buted to their having been so long under the dominion of man, in all the climates of the earth. In some of them the combs, even of the hens, are so large, that they fall over the eye, on one side, and reach below the chin ; in others, we find a crest, or top-knot, with a very small comb; a third sort have all the fea- 57 thers reversed, or apparently ruffled upward ; a fourth is entirely desti- tute of a tail; a fifth, the Dorking- breed, " much-loved " of poulterers, has five toes on each foot (Fig. 57, a,) instead of four (Fig. 57, &;) the comb of a fifth is small and thin, while that of a sixth is broader than the head. The Bantams were, at one time, considered valuable only when feathered to the points of the toes ; although it is now the fashion among Bantam- fanciers, to have the legs of these little favourites quite free from plumage. One species of very fine Fowls, which are called (we know not with what propriety) Spa- nish Fowls, occasionally change, in a single moulting, from jet black to speckled ; and, as we remember, in two cases which have fallen under our own observation, to perfect white. The Negro Fowl is a very singular variety; for not only the plumage, but the comb, wattles, and even the flesh, are entirely black. The legs of most of the varieties of the Cock are armed with sharp and powerful spurs (Fig. 58, foot of Jungle Cock.) The ancients were frequently governed in their actions by auspices derived from birds. The site of the city of Rome was decided on by a flight of Vultures. In after times, a number 216 THE AVIARY. of chickens were cooped up, in state, which, previously to " the masters of the world " embarking in any great undertaking, were, very solemnly set at liberty, and a handful of grain placed be- fore them by the Pullarius, or keeper. Their eating freely was considered as an omen of good fortune; but if they refused to feed, no hopes of success were entertained : and the projected enterprise was thus entered into with ardour, or abandoned in despair, according to the appetite manifested by the sacred poultry. Superstitions, equally singular and ridiculous, still prevail among our own peasantry. It is accounted unlucky, in many parts of England, to hear a Cuckoo before breakfast. In other places, a person who destroys a Marten's nest, or kills a Robin, is supposed to be in great danger of breaking a limb before he is a year older: " an opinion which might possibly arise from the confidence these birds (the Martens) put in us, by building under our roofs, so that it is a kind of violation of the laws of hospitality to murder them." The sight of a single crow has often induced the peasant to turn back, and postpone the business on which he was bent, until another occasion. Geese, as it is well known, generally go from the poultry-house to the pond in the morning, and back again in the evening, in a regular line; the proud and pompous gander waddling, with ludicrous gravity at their head : if, con- trary to their usual custom, they go homeward two and two, a funeral in the neighbourhood is confidently expected. Grouse (Tetrao:) The beak of the Wood Grouse, or Cock of the Woods, is convex, hooked, and extremely powerful (Fig. 59.) The legs are strong and feathered, and the toes are furnished, on each side, with a membrane, the edges of which are strongly toothed (Fig. 60, foot of the Wood Grouse.) The plumage on the craw is of a lustrous green. The head, lower part of the breast, and belly, are black. The wings are delicately marked with black and gray irregular streaks, on a rich chocolate-coloured ground. The hen is much smaller than the cock, and her plumage displays va- rious shades of yellow and reddish brown, mingled, in some parts, with black. The feathers of the belly, scapulars, and tail, are tipped with white. THE AVIARY. 217 The Wood Grouse, or Cock of the Woods (Fig. 61,) is nearly as large as a good-sized Turkey. The immense forests of pine, in some of the northern parts of Eu- rope, abound with Wood Grouse ; and thence, during the winter, they are occasionally brought to England, being exceedingly rare in this country. They feed, prin- cipally, on the shoots of pine, fir- cones, and buds of the heather. The female lays from eight to fifteen eggs ; and the young birds, as soon as they are hatched, follow the hen; frequently, like those of the Partridge, with portions of the shell adhering to the plumage. The Wood Grouse occasionally elevates the feathers on his head; this, which is a sign of pride in him, is a symbol, which may always be relied on, of fear in the Domestic Cock. The Black Grouse (Fig. 62) is about one foot ten inches in length, and weighs nearly four pounds; the general colour of the plumage is a rich black ; above each eye there is a dash of scarlet, and below the eye a spot of white; the neck and rump are of a glossy blue; the under tail- coverts white; the lesser wing- coverts brown, and the greater ones white ; the wing is also barred with white : the feathers of the tail, when spread out, form a very singular curve on each side. The toes are toothed on the edges; the eyes are a deep blue, and the bill black. These birds are common in cold countries; they frequent the northern parts of this island, and feed on berries during the winter, and, in summer, on corn. They do not pair, but assemble 111 flocks. The hen makes a careless nest on the ground, and lays from five to eight yellowish eggs freckled with brown. The Red Grouse, or Moor-cock, is about fifteen inches in length : the general colour of its plumage is a mixture of red and 218 THE AVIARY. black. Red Grouse are found in great plenty throughout the mountainous parts of England, Wales, and Scotland. They pair in spring, and the female lays from seven to ten eggs on the ground. The White Grouse, or Ptarmigan, changes the colour of its plumage, in summer, from a pure white to a pale brown colour; 63 in autumn, when it begins to as- sume its winter livery again, it is spotted with brown on various parts of the body (Fig. 63:) these spots disappear by degrees, leav- ing the plumage, in most cases, perfectly white, except that the male has a line of black between the bill and the eyes. The White Grouse is about the same size as the Moor-cock : it is fond of cold situations, and is found in some of the Highland hills, in the Orkneys, &c. and in the most northern parts of Europe. These birds feed on the mountain berries; in winter they fly in flocks, and pair in spring. The hen lays eight or ten white eggs, spotted with brown, on the ground. In America, the Ruffed Grouse (Fig. 64) is usually called the Pheasant: in size it is about midway between that bird and the Partridge ; its plumage is a beautiful variety of brown and black ; the end of the tail is barred with black on an ash colour; the bill is of a brownish horn colour ; the legs are covered with fine white feathers : the toes are pec- tinated, and joined at their bottoms by membranes. Mr. John Bartram has given the following curious account of the Ruffed Heath-cock: " This is a fine bird when his gaiety is displayed ; that is, when he spreads his tail like a Turkey-cock, and erects a circle of feathers round his neck like a ruff, walking very stately with an even pace, and making a noise something like a Turkey; at which time the hunter must fire immediately at him, or he flies away directly two or three hundred yards, before he settles on the ground. There is something very remarkable in what we call their thumping; which they do with their wings, by clapping them against their sides, as the hunters say. They stand upon an old THE AVIARY. 219 fallen tree, that has lain many years on the ground, where they begin their strokes gradually, at about two seconds of time distant from one another, and repeat them quicker and quicker, until they make a noise like thunder at a distance; which continues, from the beginning, about a minute, then ceaseth for about six or eight minutes before it begins again. The sound is heard near half a mile, by which means they are discovered by the hunters." Partridge (Perdix ): In the language of the sportsman, Part- ridges, exclusively, are termed birds: with him, a Peacock is a Peacock, and Robins are Robins; but he knows of no birds but Partridges. They constitute a material part of the game of this country; and are too well known to require a description of their size or plumage. Our readers may not, however, be aware, that the cock bird has a crescent, of a deep chestnut colour, on his breast, which is never seen on that of the hen. In the polar regions Partridges be- come white in winter ^ and in summer, again assume " their livery of brown:" they are found in various parts of the world, and are nowhere so numerous as in this country. The young birds are strong and lively, as soon as they are hatched; and have, on several occasions, been seen quitting the nest with some of the shell, from which they have partly emerged, sticking to their backs. The Partridge (Fig. 65) lays and entirely lives on the ground, except during its brief flights. The eggs may be hatched) and the young birds reared, under a common hen ; but it is indispensable that they should be supplied with ants' larvae when young. They must be kept confined under a net, or within doors; otherwise they will, as soon as they become a little independent of their foster-mother, take wing, and, quit- ting the dwellings of man, revel in corn-fields. Partridges mate in spring, and the hen lays from fourteen to twenty eggs. The sagacity and affection of these birds for their young, has been, not more frequently than correctly, described. If a dog ap- proach the hen, under whose wing the covey are concealed, the cock utters a peculiar note of alarm, and throws himself in the way of danger; he droops his wings, appears jaded, distressed, and scarcely able to keep above a pace or two from the nose of the enemy, running, rather than flying, before him; while the hen either remains close, or retires with her brood to a place of safety. Quails are found in almost every part of the Old World. The 19 220 THE AVIARY. Common Quail of this country is nearly eight inches in length; its plumage is a mixture of brown, ash colour, yellow, and black. The hen makes a nest like the Partridge, and lays seven or eight eggs. The Chinese Quails are of so pugnacious a disposition, that they are kept to fight with each other for wagers. They are about the size of Larks (Fig. 66.) The ancients also kept Quails for the same purpose. A prefect of Egypt was punished with death by Augustus, for bringing to table one of these birds, which had gained a number of victories. Bustard (Otis) : The birds of this genus are the largest of the English land-birds; the male Bustard usually weighing from twenty-five to thirty pounds. The characteristics of the Bustard are so singular, that it has been placed among the GRALL^:, ranked with the Ostrich, and made a genus of the order GALLING. It fre- quents vast plains, has a long neck and legs, with feet formed for running. The toes, which are three in number, are all directed forwards. The upper mandible is slightly arched, and the bill rather pointed. (Figs. 67 and 68, foot and beak of ^^w Hen-Bustard.) The head ^^-^ and neck are of a pale ashy hue ; the breast and belly white; the back, wings, and tail, are marked with dashes of deep brown and black, on a polished rust-coloured ground ; a tuft of long feathers grows from each side of the lower mandible. The female is not above half the size of the male; her colours are duller, and her head is of an orange ground, frequently striped with black. The male bird is furnished with a most singular sack, or pouch, situate in the front part of the neck; the entrance to which is under the tongue. It is capable of containing two quarts of water, and, as some say, considerably more. It is sup- posed that the bird supplies itself from this reser- voir in the midst of those open plains, in which it delights to roam; and, it may be, affords water to the hen, when sitting, or the young ones, before they are able to reach the distant ponds. (Fig. 69, the sack dissected out.) The female lays her eggs in a hole which she makes in the ground: they are usually two in number. THE AVIARY. 221 Bustards run with great swiftness, and cannot easily be induced to take wing: they feed on berries, herbs, and worms. Although once common on the exten- sive heaths and plains of this country, these birds are now nearly, if not quite, extermi- nated. The Turkey, and other Gallinaceous fowls, with which we have enriched our poultry- houses, are natives of other lands ; all are inferior in size, and, as it is reported, none of them are superior in flavour to the Bustard; yet, no attempt, that we can learn, and it is a fact much to be lamented, has been made to domesticate this, which is an indigenous bird (Fig. 70, male Bustard.) Besides the Common Bustard of this country, there are other species found in different parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa. The Little Bustard, which is about the size of the Pheasant, has been occasionally met with in England. COLUMBINE. In the Linnsean system, the Doves and Pigeons form a genus of the PASSERES: Dr. Latham, in his arrangement, has made a distinct order of them. In form and plumage these birds are elegant and beautiful: their legs are short, generally red, and, in some of the varieties, covered with feathers; the toes are divided to the origin; the bill is weak, and slender (Figs. 71 and 72, beak and foot of Turtle Dove) ; the nostrils are placed in a fleshy protuberance at the base of the bill. It has been said by a modern author, that the various families which constitute this order, are distinguished by shades and gra- dations so minute as to exceed all description. This, however, does not appear to us to be the case : the characteristics of the greater part of the varieties being very striking. The Tumbler, the Carrier, the Fantail, and the Pouter, not only differ in form, but habits. It is the pride of the Pouter to fill his enormous crop 222 THE AVIARY. with air, and to stand so upright, that he often falls backward. The Fantail delights in curving its neck over its back, and spread- ing out its tail like a Peacock. The Carrier is remarkable for returning home from great distances; and the Tumbler owes its name to the circumstance of its frequently tumbling backward, or throwing itself completely over, when on the wing. The legs of the Ruff, the Jacobine, and the Pouter, are covered with fea- thers; those of the Tumbler, Carrier, &c. are naked. The Horse- man, Dragoon, and Carrier, have enormous wattles on their beaks and round their eyes ; and their heads differ materially, in other respects, from those of the Tumbler and most other Pigeons. Some of the varieties are adorned with a ruff, or frill, of inverted feathers, down the neck ; others have a small tuft, or crest, on the back part of the head; while the greater portion are entirely destitute of any such appendage. They vary much in size; and their plumage partakes of almost every shade of colour, the result of domestication and frequent intermixtures. The Pigeon forms a rude nest of sticks, straw, roots, &c. ; she lays two white eggs, and sets fifteen days after the second egg is laid ; the cock and hen both incubate, and share in the task of feeding the young. For this purpose, the crops of both the male and female are endowed with the singular power of producing a fluid, which coagulates into a sort of curd: with this the young birds are, at first, entirely fed ; and common food is mixed with it, by degrees, until the nestlings are capable of subsisting entirely on the latter. The best food for Pigeons is tares, small horse-beans, peas, and barley: they must be afforded a constant supply of water; and each pair ought to have two nest-holes within one square, or partition. Small pans of earthenware, or straw baskets, are fre- quently placed in the partitions, for the more valuable kinds of Pigeons: in these the birds make their nests; or, if they be careless in this particular, which is often the case, a little hay, or soft straw, is placed in the pan previously to their laying, in order that the eggs may not be broken. We shall now proceed to give our readers a slight sketch of some of the varieties. The Turtle Dove is about twelve inches only in length; the greater part of its plumage is of an ash colour, mixed with brown ; there is a spot of black feathers, tipped with white, on each side of the neck ; the breast and front of the neck are of a fine light purple, dashed with red; the lower parts of the body are white; THE AVIARY. 223 the eyes are yellow, and encompassed with a circle of crimson. Turtle Doves are often kept in cages and aviaries. In this country they have only one brood in the year. They are migratory birds; arriving here late in the spring, and depart- ing in the autumn. They build their nests in the most retired parts of woods, on the tops of high trees; and their young are strong enough to accompany them when they de- part from our shores to pass the winter in a warmer region (Fig. 73, the Turtle Dove.) The Ring Dove is much larger than the Turtle Dove: its plumage is principally of a faint blue, or ash colour; the tail feathers are tipped with black ; and most of the greater quills of the wing edged with white: a white line extends to some dis- tance from the point of the wing. The hinder part of the neck is ornamented with glossy plumage, of a variable hue, in the centre of which there is a line, or dash of white. The Ring Dove is found in all parts of Europe: its nest is composed of twigs, and it is generally supposed that it produces two broods in the year. The Wild Pigeon (Fig. 74) exhibits a variety of beautiful hues in its plumage: deep blue, brilliant green, purple, gold, ash, pale red, &c. It builds in the holes of rocks, among woods, the hol- lows and clefts of old trees, and similar places, and commonly has two broods in a year. In a domes- tic state these birds hatch several times in the course of the season; and their increase is so enormous, that it has been calculated, the produce of a single pair, at the expiration of four years, may amount to nearly fifteen thousand. Their enemies are, however, so numerous and powerful, and the young ones are liable to so great a number of casualties, that the produce of a pair of these birds, for many years, would fall immensely short of the number mentioned. Common Pigeons are not considered of sufficient beauty or value to be admitted to the Aviary; but great numbers of them are reared in Dove-cotes, and suffered to go at large and support themselves. 19* 224 THE AVIARY. The next remove from the Common Pigeon is the Runt; a very large bird, possessing no great beauty of plumage. There are several varieties of the Runt; one of which is remarkable, on account of several feathers which grow from the outside of its feet; and another, for having its plumage inverted, or turned contrary to the usual direction : there is a peculiarity somewhat similar in that of the Frillback, which is raised or curled up at the ends, so that each feather forms a singular kind of hollow in its centre. All Pigeons have a peculiar property, in a greater or less degree, of inflating their crops with air, but none to such an enormous size as the Pouters (Fig. 75, the English Pouter, or Pouting Horseman.) These birds are frequently from seventeen to eighteen inches in length; their bodies are thin, and tapering from the shoulders downward ; their legs are strong, straight, and co- vered with soft, white feathers. The front of the crop, the under parts of the body, and the tips of the wings, are usually white ; there is, also, generally, a white spot near the point of each wing: the remainder of the plumage is usually of one uniform colour, yellow, red, blue or black, except round the white spot on the crop, where the feathers are of a brilliant green, or purple. These birds are exceedingly difficult to rear, on account of the careless- ness of the old ones : for this reason, their eggs are generally hatched, and the nestlings brought up under some other Pigeon. The Uploper, the Dutch Cropper, the Parisian, and other kinds of Pouters, possess nearly the same peculiarities as the Pouting Horseman. The Carrier is the most celebrated of all the birds of the Pigeon tribe. The accounts which have been given of its immense flights, in early times, might be deemed fabulous, if they were not only well authenticated, but supported by facts which fre- quently occur in our own days. The Carrier Pigeon has been made use of for ages, to carry intelligence from one place to another. Although taken to a great distance, as soon as it is set at liberty, after making several wide circles high in the air, it THE AVIARY. returns home with astonishing velocity ; and may thus be made die bearer of news, by means of a small letter fastened to its neck, leg, or elsewhere, from the persons who set it free, to those who are at its native place. It will perform a journey of forty or fifty miles in as many minutes; and, when properly trained, will return to its home, with nearly equal speed, even from much greater distances. Numerous instances are recorded of these birds having been employed to convey important information from besieged towns. Hirtius and Brutus corresponded with each other, by means of Pigeons, at the siege of Modena. Taurosthenes gave notice to his father at ^Egina, of his victory at the Olympic games, on the day he gained it, by a Pigeon stained with purple. A late writer states, that " the Turks and Persians make a common prac- tice of breeding this sort of Pigeon in their seraglios, where there is one whose business it is to feed and train these birds for the use afterwards designed; which is done in this manner: when a young one flies very hard at home, and is come to its full strength, they carry it in a basket, or otherwise, about half a mile from home, and then turn it out; after this, they carry it a mile; then two, four, eight, ten, twenty, &c. ; till at length it will return from the farthest part of the kingdom. This practice is of admirable use; for every bashaw has generally a basket full of these Pigeons sent him from the grand seraglio; and, in case of any insurrec- tion, or other emergent occasion, he braces a letter under the wings of a Pigeon, whereby its flight is not in the least incom- moded, and immediately turns it loose. But for fear of its being shot, or struck by a Hawk, they generally despatch five or six; so that, by this means, despatches are sent in a more safe and speedy manner than could possibly be otherwise contrived." A similar mode to that above described, has always been adopted to train the Carriers; if they be not accustomed, by degrees, to find their way home from a distance when young, and gradually exercised so as to support long flights, the quality for which they are so celebrated, will exist but in a very trifling degree: other Pigeons possess it ; but they can never be trained to fly with such epeed and certainty, nor from such a distance, as the Carrier, if we except the Horseman and the Dragoon, which are Pigeons nearly allied to it. The Carrier is larger than the Common Pigeon: the plumage is generally either black or dun colour ; its neck is long, tapering, and well-shaped ; its breast is broad ; the head and beak exceed in length those of most other Pigeons ; and its appearance altogether 226 THE AVIARY. indicates strength and activity. The wattles on the beak and round the eyes, are very remarkable: those in the Horseman, which, perhaps, is a half-bred Carrier, are rather less in size; and in the Dragoon, which is, probably, another remove from die pure stock, they are not so large as in the Horseman. Among many facts, which may be depended on, relative to the extraordinary qualities of the birds of the Carrier kind, we select the following: a gentleman sent a Dragoon by '' the stage-coach, from London, to a friend at St. Edmund's- bury, with a note, requesting that the Pigeon might be set at liberty two days after its arrival, precisely at nine in the morning. The person at St. EdmundVbury punctually attended to this request; and the Pigeon arrived in London at half-past eleven o'clock the same day; thus having performed a distance of seventy-two miles in two hours and a half. (Fig. 76, the Carrier.) The Tumbler is a small Pigeon, with a thin neck, full breast, round head, and small beak. The eyes of the better sort of Tumblers are usually of a fine pearly hue. These birds, display a variety of beautiful colours. The Almond, or Ermine Tumbler, is particularly conspicuous for the richness and variety of tints of its plumage. The head, tips of the wings, and tail, of the Bald- pated Tumbler (Fig. 77) are white. There is another variety called Bearded Tumblers : the plumage of these is either blue or black, except on the upper part of the throat and the cheeks, which are ornamented with a dash of white. The Tumblers are very excellent birds for flying: they possess a peculiarity, to which we have already alluded, of throwing themselves completely over when in the air, and in an instant resuming their flight. They are very hardy birds, and may be classed among the prettiest of the Pigeon tribe. The Fantails are particularly elegant birds : they have a fre- THE AVIARY. 227 quent, peculiar, tremulous motion in the neck; from this circum- stance they are sometimes called Shakers. The tail of these birds is spread out, and so raised, that it nearly touches the head. The Fantail has a full projecting breast, a thin neck, and a very small beak. It is generally supposed that these birds are always white: this is not the case, as there are Fantails of various colours. The white birds are, however, not only the most common, but, deservedly, die greatest favourites. There is a variety of the Fantail, called the Narrow-tailed Shakers ; the necks of which are shorter and thicker, their backs longer, and their tails, as the name imports, narrower than those of the true Fantails. (Fig. 78, the Fantail.) Some varieties of the Pigeon tribe are distinguished by a crest on their heads; others, by a ruff of inverted feathers about their necks ; and a few, by a tuft on the breast ; of each of these we shall give one or more examples. The heads of the Helmet and the Nun are ornamented with a fine tuft of feathers, which, in the former, are supposed to oear some slight resemblance to a helmet; and in the latter, to a veil : hence, it is supposed, their names are derived. The Nun is a very pretty little Pigeon: the head, tail, and ends of the wings, are usually red, yellow, or black; the veil, or tuft, and the rest of the plumage, white : in this par- ticular the Helmet resembles the Nun. The Barb Pigeon is ge- nerally dun, or black; its beak is short, thick, and the base of its upper mandible covered with a small wattle ; there is also a wattle, or circle of knotted skin, of a strong red colour, round the eye. Some of these birds have a tuft, slightly resembling that of the Helmet (Fig. 79.) Among the ruffed Pigeons, the Jacobines are most conspicuous: they are small in size, and vary in colours ; but those of a fine yellow are supposed to be of the greatest value. Whatever may be the 228 THE AVIARY. prevailing hue of the plumage, the head, tail, and tips of the wings are generally white; the legs of many of these birds are covered with feathers to the toes. The Ruff and the Capuchin have a hood, or frill, similar in form to, but not so large and handsome as that of the Jacobine. The Pigeons called Owls, and the Turbits have a remarkable tuft of feathers on the breast; the shape of which, by some writers, has been compared to the frill of a shirt ; and by others, to a full-blown rose. The Owl is rather less, and the Turbit is somewhat larger than the Jacobine. There are several minor varieties of Pigeons, which it is neither necessary, nor suitable to our limits, to notice. We cannot, how- ever, close our sketch of this beautiful order, without mentioning the most magnificent bird which it comprises, the Co- lumba coronata of Linnaeus, or Great Crowned Pigeon. In size it is nearly equal to the Turkey : the greater part of its plumage is of a fine purple, or bluish ash colour ; the middle of the back, and the coverts of the wings, are of a dark reddish brick co- lour; these together, says Edwards, form a kind of sad- dle across the upper part of the bird: some of the first row of covert-feathers, above the quills, are white, with red tips; the remainder of the row is ash-coloured. The eye is of a beautiful red, and placed in the centre of a broad space of black, which passes backward from the upper mandible, and ends in a point near the hinder part of the head. The head is adorned with a remarkably handsome crest of a pale blue, or ash colour, similar to that of the lightest parts of the Common Pigeon, and composed of a number of fine feathers, with slender shafts and fine webs, which are usually elevated. The bill is black; and the end of the upper mandible overhangs the point of the lower. The legs and feet are of a whitish colour, spotted with red. This splendid bird is a native of the East-India Islands : it cooes, and has the peculiar actions and manners of other Pigeons. (Fig. 80, the Great Crowned Pigeon.) THE AVIARY. 229 PASSERINE. In this order are ranked the Warblers, Thrushes, Finches, Larks, Fly-catchers, and most of the smaller kind of land birds. 81 Their food consists, principally, of insects and grain ; some species living on the former, some on the latter, and some on both. They chiefly build in trees, or bushes ; their nests are re- markably neat; and, with the exception of the Wrens, and other small species, they lay a mo- derate number of eggs. Their flight is quick and fluttering ; their limbs are slender ; and their bills are formed so as to operate in the manner of forceps. (Figs. 81 and 82, beak and foot of Chaffinch). Starling (Sturnus) : The Starling is about the size of a Black- bird; its bill is straight and sharp-pointed: when young, of a 83 84 yellowish brown, but acquiring a deep yellow colour as the bird grows old; its tongue is sharp and bifid. (Figs. 83 and 84, Starling's beak and tongue.) The Common Stare, or Starling (Fig. 85) has, for centuries past, been a favourite with man, on account of its docility, and the curious beauty of its plumage. All its feathers have a fine, mixed, me- tallic lustre; at the end of each is a pale yellow spot: the general colour is a glossy black, embellished with green, blue, copper, and purple tints. A gentleman has, very lately, shown us a young bird of this spe- cies, which is perfectly white. The female builds in hollow trees, old walls, rocks or cliffs near the sea- shore, and, occasionally, under the eaves of houses: she lays four or five eggs, of a light green ash colour. These birds are found in almost every climate: they feed, in a state of nature, on snails, worms, caterpillars, and various sorts of grain, fruit, and die eggs of other birds. They are seen in large flocks, during winter; and associate with other birds, as well as those of their own species. They have a peculiar mode of flight, which Buffon com- pares to a sort of vortex, in which the whole body performs a 230 THE AVIARY. circular revolution, and, at the same time, makes a progressive advance. This bird may, without difficulty, be taught to whistle tunes, and utter words, or even short phrases: it is one of the very few, among the feathered tribes, the native songs of which are, to the ear of taste, improved by tuition. It has acquired poetical honours by the notice of Shakspeare, who, after that angry interview be- tween Henry the fourth and Hotspur, during which, the king commands him never, in his royal hearing, to speak of Mortimer again, makes the high-spirited Percy exclaim, I'll find him while he lies asleep, And in his ear I'll holla, ' Mortimer ! ' Nay, I will have a Starling taught to speak Nothing but Mortimer: and give it him To keep his anger still in motion! In addition to its ability for acquiring tunes, and imitating the language of man, the Starling may be taught a variety of droll antics : we have seen one that would fetch and carry ; perch on its owner's shoulder, at the word of command ; lie on its side, and close its eyes as if it were dead, &c. It was rapidly advancing in the mystery of throwing itself heels over head, and some other equally elegant accomplishments, when, one morning, some dire grimalkin caught and devoured it. In a tame state, the Starling may be fed on worms, berries, raw meat, soaked bread, scalded meal, &c. The Water Ouzel (Fig. 86,) which, by some naturalists is removed from this genus to a place among the WATER BIRDS, is 86 generally found near rapid streams; particularly where the flow of the current is broken by rocky frag- ments. Its plumage is impervious to water; and it has the singular faculty of walking on the bed of a r vx~ ^S^ySjBfflpwtf r iver, beneath the water, in search of its prey. Some authors say, that it is as much at its ease in this situation as on the dry land. The accuracy of these statements is, however, doubted: the fact of its having been frequently seen at the bottom of the water, is well authenticated; but it would appear, according to the accounts of Montague and others, that it tumbles about, and uses great exertions, both with its legs and wings, during its subaqueous forays upon the little fish on which it feeds. It is worthy of THE AVIARY. 231 remark, that the toes of these birds are not webbed, but, on the contrary, most distinctly parted. Thrush (Turdus:) The rich-toned Throstle, called, by one of our poets, the mellow Mavis; the Fieldfare; and that bril- liant songster, the Blackbird, are the most common birds of the Thrush genus in this country; to which, also, belong the Ring-Ouzel, and the Redwing; the Brown Indian Thrush, the Golden-crowned Thrush, and several other species. All the birds of the Thrush kind have a little notch on each side at the end of the bill, which is rather straight, and slightly bent towards the tip; the nostrils are oval and naked. (Fig. 87, beak of Blackbird.) The size, shape, and plumage of the Thrush and the Blackbird, or Black Ouzel, are too well known to require any particular description. The Throstle begins his song early in the spring, and continues it during part of the summer. The female lays five or six eggs of a light blue colour, marked with dusky spots. The nest of the Throstle is generally built in bushes, and made of dry grass, clay, and rotten wood. These birds feed on insects, and the berries of holly, misletoe, &c. When kept in cages, their usual food, as well as that of the Black Ouzel, is raw or parboiled meat, sopped bread, stale bun, scalded fig-dust, or bruised hemp-seed and chopped egg mixed with crumbs of bread. The Blackbird (Fig. 88) sings as soon as the Thrush, and con- tinues to enliven the woods with his full, melodious notes for four or five months. The nest of the Blackbird is built in a low bush, generally a holly; the female lays four or five eggs, regularly marked with spots of a dusky hue on a bluish ground. Blackbirds cannot be kept in Aviaries, on account of their quarrelsome dispositions. They are ex- cellent song-birds for the cage; and, if brought up from the nest, may be taught to whistle tunes very correctly: the practice, how- ever, in our opinion, is a bad one; we look upon it as a great waste of time, tending to no good purpose: the native notes of the Blackbird are excellent; and it seems a pity "to spoil a good song-bird, by making him a middling musician." Netted Black- birds are, generally, worthless in a cage: those only which are 20 232 THE AVIARY reared from the nest, and have never known the sweets of liberty, become good songsters in a state of captivity. They are so addicted to mocking whatever sounds they hear, that a Black- bird, brought up in the metropolis, has often been known, not only to imitate the notes of the birds near him, but even the cries of those persons who carry various sorts of wares for sale about the streets. To obtain a good Blackbird, rich in his native note, we must go into some retired village; and there we may probably discover a fine Black Ouzel, in a plain wicker cage, beneath the eaves of a labourer's cot, chanting the notes which he has heard his free sire singing from the holly-tree top in the adjacent wood. Grosbeak (Loxia): This genus is composed of solitary birds without much vocal powers, and which, excepting the Bulfinch, are but little known in this countrv. The principal characteristic of the genus is a thick, short, convex bill (Fig. 89, bill of the Haw- finch): that of the Crossbill (Fig. 90) is very singular: the upper and lower mandible cross each other in opposite directions, and " seem to have been formed for detaching the scales of the fir-cones^ and obtaining the seeds lodged beneath them^ which are the principal food of this bird. It raises each scale with its lower mandible, and breaks it with the upper." The Crossbill (Fig. 91) is about the size of a Lark; its general colour is reddish ; it occasionally visits ^^^^ this country, but is an inhabitant of the colder climates, where it always breeds. It is said to fix its nest to a branch by the gummy matter which exudes from the pine-tree, and to plaster its little abode with the same substance, so as effectually to exclude the melted snow, or rain, from the interior of its comfortable little tenement. The plumage of the Hawfinch varies so considerably, that we rarely meet with three or four birds alike. In that of the specimen now before us, the top of the head, the cheeks, back, and lesser wing-coverts are reddish; the back part of the neck is ashy gray; the throat, chin, and the space between the base of the bill and eye, are black; the greater wing-coverts are white; the prime quills have a spot of white on their under webs; the belly and THE AVIARY. 233 breast are of a light brown; the tail is black, with the exception of the outer feathers, which are tipped with white. The Hawfinch does not possess " the witchery of song." It is an inhabitant of the milder parts of Europe, and only visits this country. The Indian Grosbeak is a very docile bird, and easily do- mesticated: it may be taught to fetch and carry; and it is an authenticated fact, that a well-trained bird will, upon a signal being given to him, fly down after a ring, which has, a moment or two before, been dropped into a well, catch it before it reaches the water, and bring it up with apparent exultation to its master. The Grosbeaks are also instructed to pluck off, and carry away in triumph, at command, the pieces of gold which the young Hindoo women, at Benares, and other places, wear as ornaments, slightly fixed between their eyebrows. The Indian Grosbeak makes its nest of grass, which it weaves like cloth, shaped like a bottle, and with its entrance downwards : it is suspended from the branches of the Palmyra, or some other high tree, and rocks to and fro with the wind. It consists of two or three chambers; and it is the popular belief, that the bird illumines its little tene- ment with fire-flies, which are often found stuck, by means of a little soft clay, on the inside of the nest; they are, however, doubt- less, so placed only for the purpose of food. Bulfinches are found in most parts of Europe, and are celebrated for their faculty of acquiring tunes: it is even said, that instances have been known of two Bulfinches having been taught to whistle in parts. The note of the Bulfinch, in a wild state, is described as being simple, and by no means admirable ; but there is a deep and tender beauty in it, for which its acquired airs and graces, when caged and instructed, can never compensate. It is some- times taught to utter words; and when capable of so doing, is much admired, and highly appreciated. These birds build in thickets ; their nests are formed principally of moss ; the eggs have a dull blue tint, and dark spots at the larger end. In the state of confinement they are fed nearly in the same manner as Linnets. Bunting (Emberiza): The birds of this genus very much resemble the Grosbeaks: the principal difference consists in the formation of the bill; the Bunting having both the mandibles moveabhe, and the sides bending inwards: the junction of the two mandibles at the base, is formed by an angular projection of the edge of the lower fitting into a corresponding recess in the upper (Fig. 92, head of Bunting); the upper mandible is also furnished with a 234 THE AVIARY. hard knob, of great utility to the bird in breaking, or bursting, such hard seeds and kernels as are adapted for its food (Fig. 93, the skull of the Bunting; a, the knob.) The outer toe is joined, as far as the first joint, to the middle one. The Hunting is very common in this country ; its note is harsh, an 1 frc(|iicntly repeated. The female builds in thick grass, an 1 lays five or six eggs: while she broods, the male brings her food, and entertains her with his song, which, doubtless, to her is most musical and cheering. Buntings are seen in large flocks during a great part of the winter; quantities of them are taken in nets, and on account of their similarity in size and plumage, sold for the table as larks (Fig. 94, the Bunting.) The Yellowhammer, and the Snowflake, belong to this genus : the latter, though rare in the southern parts of England, is often seen in Yorkshire, and abounds in the Scottish Highlands. It does not perch, but runs along the ground like the Lark; which bird it also resembles in the length of its hinder claw. From these circumstances it is, by some authors, placed in the same genus as the Larks ; but the formation of its bill has induced other writers to rank it among the Buntings. It changes the colour of its dress with the season : the head, neck, and under parts of the body, which, in winter, are of a beautiful pure white, in the summer are decorated with transverse, wavy dashes, of a brownish red. It builds its nest in clefts of rocks, in high northern latitudes; and lines its little habitation with fine feathers, and the softest fur of those animals which abide in the same regions. The delicious Ortolan, which is so prized in Italy, and some parts of France, by the epicure, ranks in this genus of birds. It builds, like the Lark, among grass tufts, or at the foot of some little shrub; and, it is said, warbles very sweetly during the night. It is taken alive, and fattened, in a dark place, for the table, on millet. The nest of the Black-headed Bunting, or Reed-Sparrow, merits a brief description ere we close our slight sketch of the birds of this genus: it may be compared to a little hammock; being fixed with singular art, about three feet above the water, in a marsh, or fen, to four reed-stalks : it is made of dry grass, and exquisitely lined with the softest portions of the reed. The THE AVIARY. 235 Black-headed Bunting remains in this country the whole year: it is rather less than the Yellow Bunting ; and sometimes kept as a song-bird; but it rarely warbles its soft and pleasant notes in much perfection while in a state of captivity. Finch (Fringilla) : The beak, in this genus, is cone-shaped, remarkably sharp at the point and thick at the base, and bearing a considerable resemblance to that of the Grosbeak. The Finches frequently as- semble in large flocks ; they feed on insects and their eggs, as well as seeds and grain. (Figs. 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, and 100, beaks of Gold- finch; Sparrow; Mountain Sparrow; Mountain Finch; Canary; Red-poll Linnet; and (a) tongue of Canary Finch.) This genus comprehends several of those little birds which are equally admired for the beauty of their plumage and the liveliness of their song. To enter into any description of the colours of the Goldfinch, the Linnet, or the Canary, would be superfluous; nor is it even necessary to dwell on the mode of treatment most con- genial to their habits when kept as song-birds; for who does not know that these gay little warblers delight in being placed, during the merry spring-time of the year, where the sun-beam may gild their plumage with a richer glow 7 in the sultry season, abroad, but in the shade! and, while their feathers are falling, and through- out the winter, in " some choice location," which is at once shel- tered, but not solitary'? or, that they live on seeds, and require to be regularly provided with food and water, for which, in return, the little captives make their little mansions merry with their melody'? The Goldfinch (Fig. 101,) when kept i in a cage, loses, in moulting, the freshness and beauty of its plumage those which are purchased in au- tumn, possess the livery they wore in the woods ; and it is never again equalled, while the birds remain in a state of captivity. The proper time for purchasing these birds is when the young ones flock, at the latter end of the summer: those which are taken in spring, frequently pine, and rarely prove good songsters in the 20* 236 THE AVIARY. cage. The Goldfinch builds a very beautiful nest of moss, and other soft materials, and lays five or six eggs, which are white, and marked at the end with purple spots. The Linnet (Fig. 102) has a great number of admirers, and, when rich in song, is deemed valuable. Young birds are often, as the curious express it, brought up under an old Linnet of reputa- tion as a songster; and from being kept in the same room long enough to acquire the variety of notes and execution of its master, the little pupils are reckoned worth two or three guineas each; or even more, if they exhibit any unusual powers of voice. The nest of the Linnet is usually built in a white-thorn, or furze- bush: it is composed of bents, moss, &c. and lined with fine down, and sometimes horse-hair; the hen lays four or five whitish eggs. The Canary is not a native of this country: the species is found in a wild state in the Canary Islands ; whence it has been introduced to all parts of Europe, and reared in cages and Aviaries with great success. There is a Canary-club in the metropolis, the members of which meet once a year to exhibit their birds; and premiums are awarded to the owners of such as are most perfect in shape and plumage (they care but little for song,) according to a certain standard of beauty, which Canary-fanciers have set up and very well understand, but which we should find a difficulty in describing. Canaries will learn the notes of other song-birds, if they be placed within hearing of each other; they may also be taught to whistle tunes with tolerable correctness. In a work, published above a hundred years ago, by Bernard Lintot, on Canary-birds, more than twenty different sorts are enumerated. The author states, that " there were some persons, even of note, who drove an open trade with them the first year after they came to this city." Although the Canary is a bird in more esteem than the Goldfinch or Linnet, we plead guilty of being so gothic as to prefer either of these natives of England to the little foreigner, who in our opinion, is too noisy to be agreeable: indeed, the ambition of the Canary is not confined to singing down all other birds; for it frequently tries its utmost to drown, in the loudness of its song, the notes of instruments, and the voices of those who talk or sing within its hearing. THE AVIARY. 237 Canaries are frequently bred in cages and Aviaries, and some- times united with Goldfinches or Linnets. Ten or fifteen couple may be kept together in a large room, which should be fitted up with nest-boxes, apart from each other, or placed in pairs at the different corners. When kept in a cage, they should have two boxes or pans to build in; little bags, containing materials for the nest, must be hang up inside the cage: these bags are to be bought at the bird-shops; and also little ivory balls, which are used to replace the eggs that are taken out as they are laid, for safety sake, until the hen is ready to sit. She usually lays four or five eggs, and sits fourteen days. She will sometimes hatch a second brood before the first are ready to quit their nest; in this case, the cock-bird attends the first brood until they are able to feed themselves. Canaries are usually fed upon canary-seed, without any preparation; but when they have young ones, it is advisable to give them soft meat, such as a mixture of yolk of egg boiled hard and grated, a few crumbs of fine bread, and a little scalded rape-seed bruised among the egg and bread. Food of a similar kind should also be given to the young birds, after they have left their nest, until their first moulting; they are then to be brought to hard seed by degrees. They should, occasionally, be afforded a little groundsel, or chickweed, and their cages, as well as those of all other birds, kept particularly clean. The House-Sparrow is of the same genus as the Linnet and Canary. Buffon, very improperly, in our opinion, reproaches this bird for its familiarity: the Robin is esteemed and protected for visiting the dwellings of man, at a season when the woods and meads would afford it but a scanty supply of food ; but the prim- rose has scarcely appeared on the hedge-row, when the Robin quits us for his old haunts: while the House-Sparrow abides with us throughout the year; it constantly affects society, and is never found in the woods: the abode of man is its home; it rears it? nestlings under his roof; and enlivens the heart of the most busy and populous towns with its presence. Its utility, as a destroyer of insects, compensates for the mischief which it does: and it deserves to be protected rather than proscribed. Fly-catcher (Muscicapa): Although the species of this genus are exceedingly numerous, only two are found in this country. The useful instincts and propensities of this active little race, says a modern author, are chiefly confined to countries under the more immediate influence of the sun, where they are of infinite use in destroying the noxious insects engendered by heat and moisture, 238 THE AVIARY. which are continually upon the wing. Buftbn has also remarked, that the useful destination of the Fly-catchers will occur to the most superficial observer: the insect tribes eiude the interference of man ; and, though despicable as individuals, they often become formidable by their numbers. Instances are recorded of their mul- tiplying to such an amazing degree, as to darken the air; of their devouring the entire vegetable productions; and of their carrying in their train, the accumulated ills of famine and pestilence. Happily for mankind, such calamities are rare; and Nature has wisely provided the proper remedies. Most birds search for the eggs of ina insects; many feed on their grovelling larvae ; some subsist on their crustaceous chrysalides ; and the Fly-catchers seize them after they escape from prison, exulting on their wings. In the language of Pennant, the characters of this genus are, bill flatted at the base, almost triangular, notched at the end of the upper man- dible, and beset with bristles at its base (Fig. 103.) The Pied Fly-catcher (Fig. 104) is about five inches in length ; the bill, legs, top of the head, back, and tail, except the outer feathers, are black; the forehead, and all the under parts of the body, the outer feathers of the tail, parts of the greater coverts and se- condary quills, are white; the wing-coverts dusky. The female has no white on the forehead; her plumage is brown, where that of the cock is black. Lark (Alauda:) The characters of this genus are thus des- cribed: The bill straight and slender, pointed, and rather bent ,105 106 // towards the extremity; bifid tongue; the nostrils covered with feathers and bristles; toes divided to their origin ; the claw of the hinder one nearly straight, and considerably the longest (Fig. 105 and 106, beak and foot of Titlark.) The time has been, when it was one of our enjoyments to be upon the hills, before the sun was visible ; to watch the Lark, awakened by the first glance of the " gray-eyed dawn," rise into the calm, solitary air, and there carol his loud hymn ; to listen to his notes long after the soaring bird was too high to be seen: and, while he continued on the wing, to witness the bee, the flower THE AVIARY. 239 and the butterfly, shake off the influence of night, and seem to rejoice in the first sun-beams of the morning. Health scattered her roses in our early path; the birds, the wild thyme, and the heath-flower, perfumed the air around us with their fresh and grateful odours: and the melody of Nature, trilled by the bird of the morning, where he fluttered amid the dawning clouds at sun- rise, were quite as productive of holy feelings, in our bosoms, as the scientific works of a great composer, chanted by a vocalist of eminence at a midnight oratorio. The species most commonly known of this genus, are the Skylark, the Woodlark, and the Titlark: the homely plumage 107 as**. ^ eac ^ ^ tnese i s > d'>"btless, JE^ familiar to the reader. The Sky- lark (Fig. 107) is one of the most eminent of our British song-birds, and as great a favourite with the poets as the transcendent Nightingale. Rising almost per- pendicularly from his lowly nest, he ascends, by a succession of springs to an immense height, singing all the while to cheer his brooding mate, whom he continually keeps in view; and, should she attract him, he drops, like a stone, from his elevation, as it were, to attend her bidding; on other occasions, his descent is made in an oblique direction. The Larks usually pass their time on the wing, or on the ground; the peculiar construction of their hinder claws preventing them from perching, like many other birds of a similar size, on twigs: those even which alight on trees, venture only on the larger branches, which, from their breadth, afford nearly as secure a footing as the surface of the earth. On the ground, also, the Larks build their nests; the principal material of which is dried grass. The eggs are usually four or five in number: those of the Skylark are of a grayish brown, marked with darker spots; those of the Woodlark, dusky, spotted with brown ; those of the Titlark, closely speckled with the same colour. The Woodlark occasionally sings during the night, and, like the Titlark, perches upon trees. The three varieties we have mentioned, are very common in this country; and are frequently kept, particularly the Skylark and the Woodlark, as song-birds. The Skylark will sing freely for eight or nine months in the year; he is very hardy, long-lived, and, if he can be kept from hearing, and, consequently, imitating 240 THE AVIARY. inferior birds, his song is beautiful. A fresh turf should be placed as often as possible in his cage; and he may be fed on egg boiled hard, chopped small, and mixed with about half its quantity of bruised hemp-seed: this food is also proper for the other Larks; to the Woodlark a little meat, either boiled or raw, but not salted, may, occasionally, be given with advantage. The Woodlark will sing quite as long, and his notes are nearly as beautiful, and, indeed, in the opinion of many, rather superior to those of the Skylark. Water-wagtail (Motacilla) : To adopt the language of an eminent modern zoologist, every one must be acquainted with the Common Water-wagtail, or M. Alba of Linnseus (Fig. 108): but so very marked and pecu- * liar is the appearance of this bird, and a few others nearly allied to it, that Dr. Latham, in his excellent Ornithology, has instituted for these birds a sepa- rate genus, to which he confines the title of Motacilla, or Wag- tail, while all the rest of the Linnaean Motacilla he refers to a genus called Silvia, or Warbler. The birds of this genus are remarkably brisk in their motions, and continually jerking their long, slender tails up and down : hence their English name of Water-wagtail, and their Italian one, signifying Shake-tail; in Germany they have an appellative, which may be translated Brookstilts. These birds do not hop, but run along the ground; their flight is weak and un- dulating; they are usually seen about brooks and moist plots of grass, chasing the flies, which constitute their principal food. The Common Water-wagtail builds on the ground: the nest is com- posed of moss, small fibres of roots, &c. The eggs are usually five in number ; white, spotted with brown. In this country, the Wag- tail migrates from north to south at the approach of winter. Warbler (Silvia of Latham): The birds of this genus differ much in size and habits; they are found in most parts of the world; many of them are migratory, and others remain with us all the year roun d. The bill is slender, weak, and bristles beset its base ; the head is ge- nerally small ; the nostrils small, and rather depressed (Figs. 109 and 110, head and foot of the Robin) ; a small membrane connects the middle with the outer toe. THE AVIARY. 241 In this genus naturalists place the Nightingale; a bird famous above all others for the exquisite beauty of its song. There is nothing peculiarly elegant in its shape, or handsome in its plumage: the upper part of its body is of an olive brown, the throat nearly white, and the breast and belly are of a pale ash colour; in length, it scarcely exceeds six inches. The Nightingale, like other birds of this genus, feeds chiefly on insects. It is migratory; visiting England in the beginning of April, and quitting it, in the month of August, for those climates where, during the remainder of the year, insects are found in sufficient quantity for its support. The Nightingale is a solitary bird, and generally sings during the night: of its notes, no adequate idea can be conveyed by words. The following is an animated description of the Nightingale's song, taken from the work of a talented author; but it falls short of the delightful reality: " The leader of the vernal chorus begins with alow and timid voice; and he prepares for the hymn to Nature, by assaying his powers, and attuning his organs: by de- grees, the sound opens and swells; it bursts with loud and vivid flashes; it flows with smooth volubility; it becomes faint, and murmurs; it shakes with rapid and violent articulations; the soft breathings of love and joy are poured from his inmost soul; and every heart beats in unison, and melts with delicious languor. But as ,this continued richness might satiate the ear, the strains are, at times, relieved by pauses, which bestow dignity and ele- vation ; the mild silence of evening heightens the general effect; and not a rival interrupts the solemn scene." Several of our poets have enriched their works with passages relative to the Nightingale; but they differ strangely as to " the humour of its song." Some of them, as Milton, deem it most musical most melancholy. " Forlorn Philomel" is a poetical expression, which has long been hackneyed, in prose and verse; but a serious poet of our own times, has rightly, in our opinion, described its song as possessed of joyous qualities. He says, 'Tis Hie merry Nightingale That crowds, and hurries, and precipitates, With fast thick warble, his delicious notes. The hen entirely performs the task of incubation ; the male bird brings her food during the day; and, at night, from some adja- cent spray, sings his sweet carol, doubtless to solace and delight her. With him it is a season of joy; and why, therefore, should he make his mate melancholy by " songs of sorrow? " The 242 THE AVIARY. associations of time and place when and where the Nightingale's song is heard, have given it, in the imagination and memory of many persons, a sadness, which neither the song itself possesses, nor would l>e attributed to it, were the Nightingale, like the Lark, to " carol his lay" when the sun is rising in glory above the hill-top, and the leaves flutter in the morning breeze, and the floweret, refreshed by the dew-drop, again lifts its fair face to heaven, and all nature looks jocund. Caged Nightingales are usually fed with egg boiled hard, grated, .and mixed with boiled sheep's-heart: a mixture of bruised hemp- seed and bread is sometimes substituted for the egg. The food must be made fresh every day: and clean water, in which the bird may bathe, should be frequently placed in a little pan on the floor of the cage; meal-worms and ants' larvae should, occa- sionally, be given, as a treat; particularly the latter, if they can be conveniently procured. Nightingales must not be kept in any of the ordinary bird-cages: the proper cages for these birds, are dark on their sides; the perches are padded, and a piece of green baize is stretched across the top, an inch or two below the roof: these precautions are taken to prevent the bird from hurting itself, which it would, otherwise, be in danger of doing. When kept in a room, or an Aviary out of doors, they are furnished, at (he mating- season, which is about the end of April, with slender roots, dry grass, twigs, oak-leaves, hair, down, and other fine and warm substances, with which they may build their nests. The female lays four or five eggs of a greenish brown colour; and, in a wild state, produces two, and sometimes three, broods in a year. There are several species of this genus found in different parts of the world. (Fig. Ill is the American Nightingale.) In the same genus as the Nightingale, are classed several other well-known birds: the Redstart, the Blackcap, the Whitethroat, the Robin, the Wren, the Wheatear, &c. The Blackcap, the Whitethroat, and the Redstart, are birds of passage, arriving in England about the middle of April, and departing in September, or early in October. With his winter habits, the Robin has, doubtless, made the reader tolerably well acquainted. In summer he is rarely seen, being engaged in the THE AVIARY. 243 cares of providing for his little family. The nest of the Robin is usually made in a solitary spot, about the roots of trees, or the holes of old buildings, and concealed by dry leaves: we very lately heard of a pair of Robins having built in an old hat, which had been set up in a garden to scare away small birds! The Redbreast is much beloved, and its familiarity has procured it peculiar names in many countries: in Germany, it is called Thomas Gierdet: in Norway, Peter Ronsmad; about Bornholm, Tomi Liden; and, we need scarcely add, in England, Robin Redbreast. The Golden- crested Wren is the smallest of British birds, being scarcely three inches and a half in length, not more than five in breadth, and less than thirty grains in weight; it has a fine dash of scarlet on the top of its head ; the plumage on the upper parts of the body are dusky and green,, and that of the throat and belly white tinged with green. (Fig. 112, the Golden-crested Wren.) Wheatears are very common, in autumn, about the south-coast of England where, authors state, they probably subsist some little time before they take their departure ; being, according to several writers, migratory birds, and visit- ing this country about the middle of March. Although not bigger than Larks, Wheatears are highly esteemed as birds for the table: they are caught in great numbers," in the harvest-time, on the coast of Sussex; and, taking their size into consideration, fetch very high prices. Wheatears frequently build in old rabbit-burrows, or by the sides of stones : the nest is made of dry grass, moss, and wool, and lined with feathers; and the hen lays five or six eggs of a light blue colour, encompassed, at the larger end, with a belt of a deeper hue. (Fig. 113, the Wheatear.) Titmouse (Parus): The individuals of this genus are remark- able for their vivacity, and the courage and strength which they display. They are found in various parts of the world, and are exceedingly prolific. Their food is insects; and they may often be seen, in the spring months, dexterously picking out caterpillars from the opening buds. Their nests are constructed with most exquisite art ; they lay a considerable number of eggs, and are 21 244 THE AVIARY. very attentive to their young. Possessed of great intrepidity, they attack birds much larger than themselves: Buffon says, they pursue the Owl with great fury; and, in their attacks, chiefly aim at the eyes. They have short conical bills, bristled at the nostrils, which are small and round; the tongue is truncated, and terminated by three or four bristles (Fig. 114, beak and tongue of Titmouse.) There are several species of Titmice; the most common of which is the Blue-cap, or Tom-tit, as it is frequently called. This little creature, which is not above four inches and a half in length, lays upwards of fourteen eggs. Grain, as well as insects, are devoured by this bird: it will peck bones on dung- hills; and, as Mr. White, in his Natural History of Selborne, very accurately states, is a vast admirer of suet, and haunts but- chers' shops. The same author observes, that it will also pick holes in apples left on the ground, and be well entertained with the seeds of a sunflower. We recollect an instance, in support of the latter statement, which occurred two or three years ago: In a small garden, attached to a house in a very populous part of the metropolis, several fine sunflowers, about the time the seeds began to ripen, were visited by a Blue Titmouse, who, notwithstanding he was frequently scared by persons passing to and fro, and, on two or three occasions, with difficulty escaped the claws of a cat, continued to feed on them for above a week. At that time of the year, insects were getting scarce ; but there were a few stragglers still lingering about the sunflowers and adjacent plants; and when the Blue-cap happened to meet with them, his exultation was truly ludicrous. Mr. White informs us, that during deep snows, he has seen the Great Titmouse, while it hung with its back downwards, draw straws, lengthwise, from the eaves of thatched houses, in order to pull out the flies that were concealed between them. The Long-tailed Titmouse (Fig. 115) constructs a very curious nest: it is of an oval form, with a 115 small hole near the upper part for an entrance: the principal material of the nest is moss, bound together by the aurelia of insects ; it is lined with down and feathers, so arranged, that their soft webs all point inwards. In some parts of the country, the nests of this species are called Long-pots; and, in other parts, Feather-pokes. These active and THE AVIARY. 245 busy little birds, like the other Titmice, feed on insects: they lay from fifteen to eighteen eggs, about the size of a large pea, generally white, but sometimes freckled with delicate spots of red . Swallow (Hirundo) : Of the Swallow genus, this country is visited by four species: the Chimney Swallow, Sand Marten, House J^L |" Marten, and Swift. The bill is small, bent, IB broad, and depressed at the base (Fig. 116, the |^r (&![ head of the Swift;) the head is flat, and the opening of the mouth wide: the tongue is cloven, short, and broad ; and the tail forked. The foot of the Swift is very remarkable, all the four toes pointing forwards (Fig. 117). The Swallow tribes, from the cheerful days of spring, when they first make their appearance, until the time of their departure, in autumn, almost constantly present themselves to our eyes. These birds are more truly creatures of the air than any of their feathered brethren: they live on the wing; and their brilliant career, from morning till night, chasing the nimble little in- sects on which they feed, is rarely interrupted ; except to gather materials for their nest, to build their snug " little mud cabins," to brood over their eggs, or to carry food to their nestlings. They are perfectly harmless, social, entertaining, and productive of much benefit, by clearing the air of numberless insects, which, if not reduced by the Swallow tribe, would, in the summer season, be exceedingly troublesome. A Swallow, we are informed by a modern writer, which was taken young, and domesticated, ate from seven hundred to a thousand flies a-day ; and Mr. Henry Woods states, that he found in three Swifts, which he dissected, so many small black flies, that they weighed nearly a quarter of an ounce, and which, from their minuteness, must have amounted to countless myriads! Naturalists seem to have had considerable difficulty in disposing of the Swallow tribe during the winter months. Some have been of opinion, that these birds do not seek more genial climes, at the approach of winter, but remain in a torpid state during the cold months, in hollow trees and under banks ; others assert, that they retire to rivers and lakes, in autumn, and lie in clusters under water until the spring ; but, however well-authenticated the facts may be, which have been adduced in support of these statements, it is clear that the Swallows are migratory birds, for they have been met with, on several occasions, at sea: vast numbers of them, as it is recorded, have been known to alight on the rigging of a ship, in the evening, and disappear in the morning. According 246 THE AVIARY. to an author of reputation, these apparent contradictions may be reconciled: he says, that while, on the one hand, partial mi- grations of the Swallow tribe have been fully proved to take place, the numerous well-established accounts of Swallows being found in a torpid state, leave us no room to doubt, that the latter broods of the year, not being strong enough for a flight to the shores of Africa, conceal themselves in holes, and other hiding- places, until the spring. On one occasion only have we ever had the pleasure of seeing these birds congregate previously to their annual migration; and we have seldom witnessed a more interesting sight. At the latter end of autumn, some years ago, the Swallows began to assemble about a row of houses, on an elevated situation, in the west of England; their numbers were increased, daily, by the arrival of other flocks ; and at the end of a week they amounted to myriads: clinging to the window-frames, and every little pro- jection, they nearly blackened the face of the buildings. At intervals they took short flights, darkening the earth beneath them as they flew: on these occasions not a single bird was left behind; they all seemed to cast themselves upon the wing at the same moment. By degrees the circle of their flights was increased; there appeared to be no longer a daily accession to their numbers ; and, early in October, they disappeared, in one vast body, at day- break. In the same year, and nearly at the same place, we remember having witnessed an aerial fight between a flock of Swifts and a long-winged Hawk. We had, for some time, been gazing at the bird of prey, alternately hovering in the air, without advancing a feather's length, for nearly a minute together; then suddenly darting downward, with the swiftness of an arrow, recovering itself within a few yards of the earth, and rising again, by a bold and rapid flight, to its former elevated station; sailing thence by a beautiful descent, with out-stretched and motionless pinions, towards a distant wood; wheeling round, and again returning, with miraculous speed, and exhibiting all those powers of wing for which its species are remarkable, when, by degrees, it was surrounded by a flock of Swifts, of whose presence it seemed, for some time, careless; continuing its beautiful and varied flight, while the Swifts approached nearer and nearer, and seemed pre- paring for an attack. Suddenly, they uttered a wild and general scream, and, with one accord, advanced upon the Hawk. In another instant, the scream ceased, the Hawk had soared above the flock, and two of the Swifts were falling lifeless to the earth. THE AVIARY. 247 By no means daunted, the assailants, in a short time recovered from the disorder into which they had been thrown ; and, gradu- ally rising, were soon upon a level with the Hawk, and renewed the assault : the struggle was more severe, and of greater duration than before ; for nearly half a minute the Hawk was completely concealed by his enemies, who seemed clinging to him on all sides ; they appeared like a small dark mass of many wings rapidly descending, from which maimed birds dropped, at short intervals, and a continued scream proceeded, until the mass was dispersed, and the Hawk again triumphantly soared above the Swifts, numbers of which now retreated from the strife; some of them returning to the usual elevation of their flight; while others, apparently with great difficulty, supported themselves towards the nearest place of rest. But the main body still continued the fight: another struggle ensued, which terminated precisely as the second; and the Hawk now exerted himself to the utmost to escape, by high soaring, from the Swifts, many of which followed him to an immense height, and boldly continued to assail him, as long as we could distinguish their motions. The Common Swallow (Fig. 118) builds its curiously-con- structed nest on the insides of chimneys: it is of a cylindrical shape, open at the top, made of mud mixed up with straw and hair, and lined with feathers. The nest of the Marten is made of the same materials, and is usually, as our readers well re- collect, fixed under the eaves of houses, or at the corners of win- dows. Wherever it may be built, the nest of the Marten is rarely disturbed. The Sand Marten is the least of our Swallows: it builds at the ends of deep holes, which it makes in sandy banks, near the rivers which it frequents; the materials of the nest, which is slovenly made, are feathers,*dry grass, and straw. The Swift, which is the largest of the British Hirundines, soars higher than, and never associates with, the Common Swallow: it delights in flying rapidly round high buildings; and builds its nest in steeples, towers, or other equally-elevated places. The legs of the Swifts are so short, that if they happen, by accident, to fall on the ground, they experience considerable difficulty in rising again ; yet their nests are composed of things which are usually 21* 248 THE AVIARY. found upon the surface of the earth; such as moss, dry grass, feathers, bits of hemp, pieces of linen, silk, &c. It is true that most of these materials are occasionally carried to some height by the wind; but scarcely in sufficient quantity, one would imagine, for the construction of their nests: it is, however, pos- sible, that they may collect enough, at the usual elevation of their flight, to serve their purposes, or gather the articles as they skim over the surface of the ground. Some authors assert, that they rob the House Sparrow of his hoard; and even frequently expel him from his chosen retreat, to occupy it themselves. The eggs of the Swift and Sand Marten are white; those of the Chimney Swallow, white, speckled with red; and of the Marten, white, with a dusky tinge at the larger end. Goatsucker (Caprimulgus) : The Night-jar is the only bird of its genus known in England: it is very commonly called the Goatsucker; which name it obtained from a vulgar error, which has been long exploded, that it sucked the blood of goats. In addition to the two names which we have mentioned, this bird is sometimes called the Churn Owl, the Dor Hawk, the Night Swallow, and the Fern Owl. The bill of the Night-jar is usually flat, and rather hooked at the point ; from the upper mandible spring several strong bristles, which enable it more effectually to secure its prey, consisting of moths, beetles, and other insects (Fig. 119, the head and tongue of the Night-jar.) A membrane connects the toes as far as the first joint: the middle one exceeds the others in length, and one side of the claw is serrated (Figs. 120 and 121, toe and foot of the Goatsucker.) Mr. White has expressed an opinion, that the foot of the Night-jar is useful in securing its prey; as he observed, that the bird, while on the wing, fre- quently put up its foot, as if it were in the act of conveying something to its mouth: most probably, it catches those large moths, on which it is known the bird feeds, with its foot, and tears them to pieces with the hook of its beak. One of the correspondents of the Magazine of Natural History, for November, 1828, states, that the stomach of one of these birds, which he opened, was crammed with the undigested remains of Melolontha vulgaris, and Hepialus humuli. (See Fig. 44, p. 140, and Fig. 103, p. 176, of this work.) THE AVIARY. 249 The Night-jar is a bird of passage: it arrives in this country so late as the end of May, and leaves us early in September. It is a solitary bird, and, unless disturbed, is seen only in the evening, or night; except on gloomy days, when the sun is not visible. The female lays her eggs on the bare ground: they are two or three in number, of a dull white colour, spotted with brown. It is impossible to give any accurate, particular description of the plumage of the Night-jar, which is a beautiful medley of colours, chiefly brown, of various shades, dashed with black, rust colour, and white. The male has one oval spot of white near the end of each of the first three quill-feathers, and another on each of the outer k feathers of the tail. In length it is k generally between ten and eleven finches. It is often seen flying about commons, in the dusk of the evening, in quest of its prey. When perched, it utters a peculiar jarrfng cry, from which it takes one of its names: it has but one other note, which resembles the buzzing noise of a spinning-wheel. (Fig. 122, the Night-jar.) There is a species of this genus in Virginia, called Whip-poor- Will, which, like the Goatsucker known in this country, is con- sidered a bird of ill omen. Having thus offered a brief notice of nearly all the genera of this, we shall now proceed to the next order of Birds. STRUTHIOUS. In the Linnaean system, the Struthious birds form a genus of the GALLING: they have been arranged by other naturalists in a distinct order, having three divisions, Dodo, Ostrich, and Cassowary. The two latter bear a great resemblance to the genus Otis: like the Bustard, in the language of Dr. Shaw, they seem to be of an ambiguous cast; and may, with almost equal propriety, be placed in either order, GALLING or GRALL.E: they have long and powerful legs and feet, without the hinder toe, well formed for running; and wings, useless for the purpose of flight, but calculated, perhaps, to increase their speed. Dodo: The wings of the Dodo are somewhat similar to those of the Ostrich and Cassowary ; but, in its general appearance, it differs from these, and, indeed, all other known birds. We are, 250 THE AVIARY. perhaps, incorrect in speaking of the Dodo in the present tense; for, in all probability, it is now extinct. There is not even a perfect specimen to be found; still, no doubts are entertained of its having once been in existence. The only authentic original figure of the Dodo, is a painting in the British Mu- seum, which is said to have been taken from the living bird, brought into Holland by the Dutch, soon after the discovery of the East Indies, by the way of the Cape of Good Hope. Beneath the painting is a Dodo's leg, in a fine state of pre- servation, which is very thick, in proportion to its length, " and satisfies the eye of every ornithologist, that it cannot belong to any other known bird." (Fig. 123.) The Dodo must have been as incapable of running, with any degree of speed, as flying : it may be pronounced the most inelegant, awkward, and clumsy-looking creature of the whole feathered tribes. In size, it exceeds the Turkey. The neck is thick and pursy; the body heavy, lumpish, and nearly cubical; the tail disproportioned, and not in the usual place. The plumage is represented as being a variegation of black and white, with a slight mixture of yellow; the immense mandibles open far back in the head, behind the eyes; the upper one is black, except at the hook, where there is a red spot; the legs and feet are yellow, and the nails black; the toes are four in number, and one of them points backward. The Dodo Was formerly found in the Isle of France; but, for the last two centuries, not a single individual of the race has been met with. The Dutch called it Walgh Vogel, or the disgusting bird ; as well on account of its ugly figure as its offensive smell; the flesh, however, is said to have been palatable and wholesome food. (Fig. 124, the Dodo.) Ostrich: The Common Ostrich is a native of the hottest parts of Africa, and exceeds all other birds in size, being often nearly eight feet in height, and six in length, from the top of the head to the base of the tail, when the neck is extended in a right line with the body. The head and neck are flesh-coloured, and THE AVIARY. 251 nearly bare (Fig. 125, head of the Ostrich) ; the tongue is small and short, and the bill slightly flattened. The foot is furnished ' with two toes only; the exterior toe is much shorter than the inner one (Fig. 126, foot.) The wings and tail of both male and female are white ; the body of the former is black, and that of the latter, brown. The fea- thers are different from those of any other bird, being beautifully soft, and having the shafts situate exactly in the middle of the webs. Various statements have been given, as to the habits of these birds. The ancient accounts of the Ostrich laying her egg on the sand, and leaving it to be hatched by the warmth of the sun, is now exploded; it having been satisfactorily shown, that both male and female alternately incubate. It has been said that the Ostrich lays above fifty eggs; but this fact has been disputed: there is no doubt that even a greater number of eggs may have been found together; but it would appear, by the statements of some travellers of high reputation, that the male is frequently accompanied by three or four females, all of which lay in the same nest, and take their turns in the office of incu- bation; the male occasionally relieving them, by performing that duty himself. The male Ostrich is particularly attentive to the young birds ; and he has been seen with two or three different broods at the same time under his protection: this circumstance has been accounted for, by the supposition, that he has met with and beaten off other male birds of the same species, and taken the broods of the vanquished into his own keeping. It appears equally probable, that the young birds of various sizes, thus said to be seen with him, may be the produce of the eggs of his three or four mates, laid, perhaps, in separate nests; or, it may be, in the same, but at different periods. While the cock takes charge of the young birds which are first produced, the hens, or those, at least, which have laid late, may continue to incubate until the whole of the eggs are hatched. According to some authors, the provident mother-bird rolls two or three of her first-laid eggs to a little distance from the nest, and then breaks them; in a short time they are covered with flies and maggots, upon which 252 THE AVIARY. the young Ostriches make their first meal. In the absence of good evidence, as to the correctness of this statement, it will doubtless occur to die reader, that the eggs, thus affording food to the newly-hatched Ostriches, may have been rolled out of the nest and broken, by accident, at an early period of the incubation; or that they may, perhaps, have heen addled, and cracked, sub- sequently to the departure of the brood from the nest; in the latter case they would offer a very early supply, though not the first meal of insects, to the young family. The Ostrich bears a greater resemblance to quadrupeds than any other of the fea- thered tribes; it may be said to be the connecting link between the two classes of animals. Voracious in the extreme, and en- dowed with strong digestive powers, the Ostrich greedily devours almost every substance which falls in its way; it is remarkably swift of foot; and though possessing great strength, is harmless and inoffensive, unless injured or provoked. Cassowary: In the same genus with the Ostrich, Linnaeus placed the Cassowary ; but, since the days of that celebrated natu- ralist, it has been considered as a distinct genus. The Cassowary is a native of the East-India islands; it is between five and six feet in height; covered with remarkably long, narrow black feathers, springing, in pairs, from one shaft, or base ; they are alike all over the body, and fall, in a sin- gular manner, over the sides, so that the small wing of the bird is not perceptible: in the front of the neck there are two wattles, resembling those of a cock, irregular on their surface, and of a mingled red and light blue colour ; a hard and horny crest, or helmet, rises between the base of the upper mandible and the middle of the head (Fig. 127) ; the toes, which are three in number, all pointing forward, are armed with strong black claws (Fig. 128) ; the legs are remarkably strong, and the bird is capable of running with great speed. The Cassowary is exceedingly ravenous ; but it is said, does not seem to entertain a predilection for any particular sort of food, but, like the Ostrich, swallows almost anything edible. The eggs of this bird are of a grayish ash-colour, marked with green, and measure about fifteen inches in circumference one way, and nearly twelve the other. THE AVIARY. 253 The Cassowary of New South Wales is thus characterised by Latham : It is blackish ; the crown flat ; its body bristly ; its head and neck planted with quills, and its legs serrated behind. It differs materially from the other Cassowary, by wanting the horn on the crown of the head ; the head and beak are also much more like those of the Ostrich; the tongue has a broad root, serrated sides, and pointed top. This bird is exceedingly swift of foot, and strikes severely with its heel when pursued. It fre- quently measures nearly seven feet when standing erect. In the neighbour- hood of Botany Bay, the New-Holland Cassowary was formerly common, and often hunted by the colonists for the sake of its flesh, which is said to be similar in flavour to beef. The hen lays a number of eggs, which are rather less than those of the Ostrich ; they are nearly of an oval shape, and of a bottle-green colour. The principal material of the nest is dried fern : it is usually constructed on the ground, on the borders of a swamp (Fig. 129, Cassowary, or Emu, of New South Wales.) CLOVEN-FOOTED, OR WADERS. The WADERS have, in general, remarkably long legs; hence their Linna3an name, GRALL^E, which signifies a pair of stilts. Their toes are divided, or slightly connected, by a membrane at the base ; and they seem formed for living on the margins of lakes, the sea-shore, and among ponds and shallow waters, in marshes, and low countries. Most of them have very long bills, by which they are ena- bled to perforate the soft mud and weeds, in which they find a great part of their food (Figs. 130 and 131, the beak and foot of the Curlew) ; while others have shorter legs and bills, and seem adapted only to prey on such insects, worms, &c. as are found 254 THE AVIARY. near the surface (Figs. 132 and 133, beak and foot of Moor-hen.) The Cranes, Herons, Curlews, Snipes, Sand-pipers, and birds of 132 133 similar formation and habits, are included in the order of WADERS, of which we shall particularise some of the most distinguished genera. Spoonbill (Platalea) : The bill, in birds of this genus, is long, thin, and flattened (Fig. 134) ; the end is dilated, so as to bear some resemblance to a spoon (Fig. 135, a front view of the bill); 135 the tongue is small and pointed; the nostrils are placed near the base of the bill, and the toes con- nected, near their junc- tion by webs, which light- ly border them to their extremities. (Fig. 136.) These birds are found in various parts of the globe, but in small numbers only: they fre- quent the sea-shore, and such marshy places as are occasionally visited by flood-tides; their food consists of small fish, water- insects, and worms, which their bills are admirably adapted for taking, in soft mud or slimy ponds. The Common Spoonbill (Fig. 137) is about two feet and a half in length; its plumage is generally described as being entirely white ; but it has occasionally been seen with black tips to the quills. The nest of the Spoonbill is usually built at the top of a tall tree : the hen lays three or four eggs, which are white, speckled with red. To this country, the Spoonbills are only occasional visitants. In Holland, where they were once numerous, they are now become very rare. Bewick states, that they are to be met with in all the intermediate low countries, from the Feroe Islands to the Cape of Good Hope. In North America there are two singular species of this genus: one of which scarcely exceeds a Sparrow in bulk; the other resembles in THE AVIARY. 255 size the European Spoonbill, but its plumage is of a beautiful rose colour. Jabiru (Mycteria) : In this genus the bill is large, pointed, 133 and turns slightly upward (Fig. 138) ; the back of the head is bare ; the legs are re- markably long, and the foot of the common form, having three toes forward and one behind. The habits of the birds of this genus are supposed to be nearly similar to those of the Herons, to which they bear a considerable resemblance. The Common Jabiru is a native of North America: it is a very large bird, with a bare black neck, encircled at the base with a broad zone of red; the tail, and the long feathers of the wing, are black; the rest of the plumage is white. The beak of the Com- mon Jabiru is black; in this respect the Senegal species differs from it; having the bill of a whitish colour, with a red base, and a broad black bar crossing it near the middle. The New Holland Jabiru, which is smaller than the former species, has the neck covered with feathers of a varying black and dark-green hue. Heron (Ardea): The birds of this genus are very numerous: 139 they comprise all the Storks, Cranes, Herons, &c. Their food consists of fish, frogs, &c. and, occasionally, grain and herbage. They frequent lakes and fens, and usually, but with some exceptions, build their nests upon the ground. They have long, straight, slender, sharp- pointed bills (Fig. 139, beak of Heron) ; legs of great length ; feet of the common form, with the middle toe, in some species, pectinated, or toothed (Fig. 140, foot of the Heron . ) The Common Heron measures about three feet in length; it rarely weighs more than as many pounds. The body of this bird is always thin, and its appearance miserable. Although rapacious in the extreme, it is cowardly in its disposition: it will fly from the Sparrow-Hawk ; and, in those days when falconry was one of the principal diversions of the great in this country, the Heron was ranked among the royal game : it was frequently served up to table, on extraordinary occasions; and a penalty of twenty shillings (an important fine in those times) was 22 256 THE AVIARY. attached to the offence of destroying its eggs. For hours together the Heron will stand motionless in the water, watching its prey, and appearing more like the stump of a tree than a living creature. It will traverse immense distances in quest of waters in which its food abounds; and soars so high in its flights, as scarcely to be visible to the naked eye. The plumage of the Heron is prin- cipally white, black, gray, and ashy. The male has a long, pendent, black crest, of which the female is destitute. The nests of these birds are often built on the tops of high trees: the hen lays four or five light bluish-green eggs. (Fig. 141, the Heron.) The Stork is larger than the Heron: its plumage is white, except some parts of the wings and the scapulars, which are black. These birds are now rarely seen in Britain. In low countries, which abound with swamps and pools, as their food consists for the most part of reptiles, Storks are most welcome visitors : they usually resort to the neighbourhood of populous places; and their nests, which are considered sacred, are built on the tops of chim- neys, in steeples, or other high buildings: the hen lays from two to four eggs. Both the parent birds incubate, and are particularly attentive to the young. Storks are migratory; but they merely- quit one temperate climate for another, going northward in sum- mer, and returning to the south in winter. Previously to their migrations, the Storks assemble in great numbers, and seem to hold consultations together ; although they are remarkably quiet at other times, on these occasions they make a great noise, and a continued bustle is visible throughout the assembly. The Crane is still larger than the Stork, and differs as well from that bird as from the Heron, in the singular conformation of its windpipe, which, instead of following the same direction as in the gene- rality of birds enters into a cavity, adapted for its reception, in the breast-bone, before it passes into the lungs (Fig. 142.) THE AVIARY. 257 The plumage of the Common Crane is principally of an ash colour ; a very elegant crest of feathers (which curl at the ends, and resemble the valuable plumes of the Ostrich, as well in texture as position,) springs from the pinion and falls over the tail. Among the various species of Cranes, the Crowned Crane, which is about the size of the Common Crane, is conspicuous : its head is ornamented with a fine crest, composed of a sort of feathers, each of which is barbed, or bristled, in a singular : manner, throughout its whole }f^_ extent. The plumage of this - Crane (Fig. 143) is of a dark JSP greenish gray. It is a native of Africa, and the Cape de Verd Islands. Cranes were formerly found in this country; but they have now almost entirely abandoned it. They are migratory; and in winter, quit the northern parts of Europe and Asia for more southern and warmer countries. They are very easily tamed, and have been known to attain a great age in a domesticated state. A singular instance of the attachment of a Brown Crane to its companion, has been lately recorded, as well as we can recollect, by the talented Mrs. Bowdich. One of a pair, which were kept by a gentleman in this country, having died, the other was, appa- rently, so affected by the loss of its fellow-prisoner, that but little hope was entertained of its surviving. At length, and as a forlorn hope, a large looking-glass was placed in the Aviary: the bird no sooner beheld the reflection of his own image, than, probably con- ceiving it to be his companion, he smoothed his ruffled plumes, assumed an air of joy, regained his strength, and lived some years after, perfectly contented, and passing much of his time before the glass. Bartram gives a singular account of the manner in which the Savannah Cranes make their nests. They collect a quantity of dry grass on a little hillock, which is nearly as high as their bodies; and in incubating, they stand with one leg on each side of the hillock, so that the breast only touches the eggs. The Bittern is stouter than the Common Heron, but not quite so large as that bird : the greater part of its plumage is marked 258 THE AVIARY. with a multitude of small streaks and specks of black, on a rust- coloured ground. The beak is very strong at the base, and tapers gradually to a very sharp point; the mandibles open behind the eyes ; the top of the head is covered with a kind of crest of long feathers, which the bird can raise at will; the legs are of a palish green colour ; the claws are long and sharp, and the middle one serrated. Bitterns, in the manner of taking their food, and in their general habits, very much resemble the Common Heron; but they are by no means deficient in courage. When attacked by a bird of prey, the Bittern bravely defends itself, and fre- quently repulses its assailant; and if wounded, so as to be inca- pable of flying, it will not scruple to attack the sportsman, and often inflicts rather severe wounds with its keen and powerful bill. The Bittern usually constructs its nest of rushes and withered water-plants, among the sedges which clothe the banks of pools. It is said, that the hen feeds the young ones for three days in the nest, and then leads them forth in quest of food. The Bittern is remarkable for ' uttering a very peculiar, coarse, hollow note, at certain times, ; which may be heard at a great -distance. The Great American Bittern, it is said, has the pro- perty of emitting a light from its breast, which illuminates the water, and either attracts, or enables the bird to discover its prey; and it is conjectured, that birds of the same genus, in this country, also produce light, for the same purpose, from a large space on the breast, which is without feathers, but covered with a soft, greasy down. (Fig. 144, the Bittern.) The largest bird of this genus ie a native of the East Indies: it measures seven feet and a half from the top of the beak to the claws ; it has a very large beak, and a drooping crop of consider- able dimensions. Latham states, that a young bird of this species, about five feet in height, was brought up tame, and presented to the chief of the Bananas, where Mr. Smeathman lived, and being accustomed to be fed in the great hall, soon became familiar; duly attending that place at dinner-time, and placing itself behind its master's chair, frequently before any of the guests entered. The THE AVIARY. 259 servants were obliged to watch it narrowly, and to defend the provisions with switches in their hands ; but, notwithstanding this, it would frequently snatch off something or other; and was known once to have purloined a whole boiled fowl, which it swallowed in an instant. Its courage is riot equal to its voracity ; for a child of eight or ten years old soon puts it to flight with a switch; though, at first, it seems to stand upon its defence, by threatening, with its enormous bill widely extended, and crying out with a loud hoarse voice, like a bear or a tiger. It is an enemy to small quad- rupeds, as well as birds and reptiles, and destroys fowls and chickens, though it dare not attack a hen, with her young, openly: it preys also on rats, young kittens, and the like, and has been known to swallow a cat whole : a bone of a shin of beef being broken asunder, serves it but for two morsels. This bird used to fly about the island, and roost very high among the silk cotton trees; from whence, at two or three miles distance, it could espy the dinner carrying across the yard ; when, darting from its station, it would enter promis- cuously with the women who carried in the dishes. When sitting, it was observed to rest itself on the whole of the hind part of the leg. It sometimes stood near, for half an hour after dinner, with the head turning alternately, as if listening to the conversation. (Fig. 145, the Adjutant, or Giant Crane.) Boat-bill: The form of the beak in birds of this genus is very peculiar: it is broad, depressed, and sharp at the point (Fig. 146.) The Boat- bill is an inhabitant of South America: it is about the size of a Crow ; the tail and part of the back are of an ash colour ; the breast, and all the under parts of the body are white, and the residue of the plumage is black. Curlew (Numenius): The beak of the Curlew is long, curved gradually from base to point, and blunt at the end (see fig. 130, p. 253): the tongue is sharp-pointed and short: the legs are long, 22* 260 THE AVIARY. and a membrane connects the toes as far as the first joint (see fig. 131, p. 253.) Another genus of birds in this order, Tantalus, has nearly the same characteristics : it is supposed to have con- tained that celebrated bird, the Ibis, so much esteemed by the Egyptians, for destroying reptiles, &c. The Curlew (Fig. 147) is frequently seen in winter, on the English coasts, and on extensive marshy plains during the warm months. Its food consists of worms and insects, which it extracts with its long bill, from among moss and in- . terwoven water-plants, &c. ^during its inland residence: Awhile it remains on the sea- r shore, it subsists partly on fish. The hen lays four five eggs of a greenish hue, spotted with brown: her nest is made on the ground, of dry rushes, and other withered vegetable substances. Curlews differ much in size, as well as plumage : they generally measure about two feet in length, and are of a brown colour, varied with darker markings on the back, wings, &c. and white on the lower parts of the body. Some of the foreign species of this genus are very beautiful. Snipe (Scolopax) : The bill in this genus is long, flexible, straight, and rather blunt at the point; the tongue is slender and 148 ^ax^ 149 pointed ; the toes are divided to the origin, or have a very slight membranous connex- ion only : the hinder one is particularly small. (Figs. 148 and 149, beak and foot of the Woodcock.) The Common Snipe generally weighs about four ounces: the plumage is diversified with various shades of brown; the bill is three inches long, and of a pale brown, or greenish yellow colour; the legs are of a faint green. The Snipe frequents low, moist places, in the mud of which it is almost constantly diving its bill, in quest of the small worms and insects on which it feeds. Snipes are migratory birds; but it is well known that they frequently remain throughout the year and breed in this country. Their nests are made on the ground, by the side of a clump of wood or a broken bank: the materials of which they are composed, are THE AVIARY. 261 nearly the same as those used by the Curlew for the same purpose. The hen lays four or five oblong eggs of a green colour, with rusty spots ; the eggs, it is said, are all placed with their smaller ends in the middle of the nest. The Common Snipe is provin- cially termed the Heather-bleater, doubtless on account of the singular noise which it occasionally makes. Montague states, in his Ornithological Dictionary, that in the breeding season the Snipe changes his note entirely from that in the winter: the male will keep on the wing for nearly an hour together, mounting like a Lark, uttering a shrill piping noise; then descend with great velocity, making a bleating sound, not unlike an old goat ; which is repeated alternately round the spot possessed by the female, especially while she is sitting in her nest. The Woodcock (Fig. 150) is about thrice the size of the Common Snipe; to which bird it bears a considerable resemblance in its plumage and habits. Although a migratory bird, the Wood- cock, like the Snipe, frequently breeds in this country. The nest is made of the same ma- terials as that of the Common Snipe, and it is usually built in similar situations to those chosen by the latter bird. The eggs are usually four or five in number, and marked with dusky spots on a rusty gray or ashy ground. The shape of the Wood- cock's head is remarkable ; the eyes are placed near the crown ; the ears are in a line with the mouth and lie very forward: the beak is about three inches in length ; the end of the upper mandible pro- jects over the lower, and terminates in a knob, which, being exceedingly susceptible, enables the bird to discover the small worms, on which it principally subsists, in the soft, marshy grounds, where, like the Snipe, it is generally digging and nibbling. Wood- cocks arrive in this country, from the shores of the Baltic, singly or in pairs, about the latter end of October, and during the month of November; they depart again in April. They are supposed to land during the night only; and, after resting for a day near the sea, they proceed inland towards those haunts which they frequented during the preceding seasons. These birds are much sought after by the sportsman. Numbers of them are also taken by traps, springes, &c. towards which they are directed by means of little avenues, placed in their usual paths: into these they 262 THE AVIARY. enter without suspicion, as they will rather follow a path, how- ever tortuous, than leap over any obstacles, when in quest of food. This singular habit renders them an easy prey to the noose or the net of the fowler; while their short, rapid, and irregular flight secures them, in many cases, from falling before the gun of the sportsman. Sandpiper (Tringa) : The beaks and feet of the Sandpipers very nearly resemble those of the preceding genus. Their haunts and habits are also similar to those of the Snipes. Thirty-seven species, and nine varieties of this genus have been enumerated by Latham: we shall confine ourselves to a description of the Ruff only. Ruffs differ so materially in plumage, that Buffon says, out of a hundred of them compared together by Klien, only two were found alike. The upper parts of their plumage may, however, be described as a mixture of dark-reddish ash and rusty brown, spotted and barred with black and white; the under parts are white. The length of the bird is about a foot ; the bill is of a ruddy yellow near the base, and black at the tip; the front of the head is studded with tubercles; and a spreading ruff of feathers, beau- tifully variegated, and of different hues in different individuals, springs from the neck. At two years of age the male birds acquire their ruffs, which disappear with the tubercles, after the moulting season, at the end of June, and are resumed again in the ensuing spring. (Fig. 151 , the Ruff.) The females of these birds are called Reeves. They build their nests in dry tufts of grass or weeds, in fens, early in May: the eggs are usually four in number: they are white, marked with rusty spots. Ruffs are migratory, and arrive in this island, from more northern countries, in the spring: shortly after, they enter into terrible conflicts, and numbers of them are destroyed; at this time they are easily taken in nets, &c. Buffon says, that they not only contend with each other in single rencounter, but ad- vance to combat in marshalled ranks. Plover (Charadrius) : The birds of this and the genus Tringa, are nearly allied to each other; there is a great resemblance in the beak and feet, except that most of the Plovers are without the THE AVIARY. 263 hinder toe (Figs. 152 and 153, beak and foot of the Golden Plover.) Bewick has arranged several of the Plovers among the LAND BIRDS, 53 and states, that they may be consi- dered as connecting the two great divisions of the class, to both of which they are in some degree united ; he is, however, content to suffer the Long-legged Plover to remain among the WADERS. This bird (Fig. 154) is very rare in Great 154 Britain. According to Latham, it is common in Egypt, being found there, in the marshes, in October; its food is said to consist principally of flies. It is also seen on the shores of the Caspian Sea, in the East Indies; and frequently in the warmer parts of America. The upper parts of its plumage are of a deep black, and the breast, &c. of a pure white ; its legs are red, weak, and of a most extravagant length: the base of the middle toe is connected to the outer one by a membrane. Mr. White says, that in a specimen of this bird, which he procured, the length of the legs was so extraordinary, that, at first sight, one might have supposed the shanks to have been fastened on, to impose on the credulity of the beholder. Oyster - catcher (Hcematopus) : The Oyster - catcher feeds principally on oysters; for opening the shells of which its bill is so exceedingly well formed, that, as Derham remarks, it seems to have been framed purely for that use (Figs. 155 and 156, beak and foot of the Oyster-catcher.) The toes are only three in number; they are all placed forward, and united by a membrane as far as the first joint. The birds of this genus are scattered in small numbers over almost every part of the globe. The Oyster-catcher usually weighs from fifteen to seventeen ounces: its plumage is black, dark brown, and white; the bill is about three inches long, of a bright scarlet colour, obtuse at the point, and compressed on the eides. Nature has not only endowed this bird with a beak that is admirably suited for its office, namely, that of extracting oysters from their shells, and detaching limpets from the places where they grow, but its feet are also excellently 264 THE AVIARY. protected, by a hard scaly skin, from the sharp points and edges of the shells and crags, across which it is compelled to walk in quest of its food. These birds occasionally take the water, but float rather than swim. The hen lays four or five eggs with black spots, on the bare ground, behind a little mound of sand, or a tuft of grass. It is said that she in- cubates during the night only, leaving the eggs exposed to the warmth of the sun during the day. (Fig. 157, the Oyster-catcher.) Jacana (Parra) : The Jacana is distinguished by the immo- derate length of the claws, which, in some species, are nearly half as long as the body; as well as by a sharp horny spine at the shoulder of each wing, and a scal- loped cere without feathers, arising in front of the base of the bill, which is of a moderate length, andrather obtuse. (Figs. 158 and 159, the beak and foot of the Jacana.) The Chestnut Jacana (Fig. 160) is about the size of a Lapwing; out its legs are much longer than those of that bird. The head, neck, and all the under parts of the body are black ; the back, wings, and upper part of the tail, are chestnut ; the greater coverts are green, with black tips; the spurs on the wings are of an orange colour ; the legs and feet are bluish ; the claws are remark- ably long and sharp, particularly the hinder ones ; the bill is yellow at the point, and red at the base; the scallop, which is red, covers part of the forehead, but does not adhere to it. These birds are commonly seen in pairs : they frequent marshes, and are exceedingly shy. Nature, says Buffon, has armed the Jacana for war; yet we know not any foe which it combats. Man has, however, turned its powers to a good account. The most remarkable bird of the genus, the Faithful Jacana, is THE AVIARY. 265 said to be easily tamed; and when domesticated, is frequently made the guard of various kinds of poultry, which are committed to its care, as sheep to that of a dog. It is described as resolutely beating off birds of prey, by means of the spurs on its shoulders ; never deserting the charge committed to its care, but going out with them to proper situations by day, and very regularly bringing them all home safe at night. WADERS, WITH PINNATED FEET. The birds of this order approach nearer to those with webbed feet than the WADERS ; the toes being furnished with lateral mem- branes. In this order are arranged the Coots, the Grebes, and the Phalaropes. Phalarope (Phalaropus) : The body and legs of the Phalarope resemble those of the Sandpiper: the bill is straight and slender; the nostrils are minute; and scalloped mem- branes are attached to the toes (Figs. 161 and 162, beak and foot of Phalarope.) There are several species of this genus. The Gray Phalarope is a very pretty bird, principally of a fine lead colour, pale brown, and white. It is an inhabitant of the northern parts of the world, and migrates southward in the winter: it is but rarely met with in the British isles. The edges of the membranes on the toes are finely serrated, as well as scalloped. Coot (Fulica): In this genus a central con- tinuation of the cere covers a portion of the front of the head; the mandibles are equal in length, strong, thick, and rather pointed; the wings and tail are short ; the toes are long, and furnished with broad scalloped membranes; the hinder toe has a plain membrane: the inner toe has two; the middle, three; and the outer one four scallops (Figs. 163 and 164, beak and foot of the Coot.) The Coot is about fifteen inches in length ; there is a white spot under the eye ; the remainder of the plumage is black on the upper parts, and grayish on the breast, &c. The thighs are placed far behind: they are bare and yellow above the knees: the legs are of a brownish green, and sometimes of rather a lead colour. 266 THE AVIARY. The Coot swims and dives exceedingly well, but walks with con- siderable difficulty, and can seldom be induced to rise on the wing. It is frequently met with about the marshy parts of this country. The hen lays from ten to fifteen eggs, of a pale dull brown colour, with specks and blotches of a darker hue. The nest of the Coot is built in a tuft of rushes, upon the surface of the water; and should the winds drive it from its moorings, the mother-bird still broods over her eggs, or nestles her little ones, and endeavours, by means of her feet, to direct it into another harbour (Fig. 165, the Coot.) Grebe (Podiceps ; Colymbus, LINN.) : The Grebes are most expert swimmers and divers: "at sea, they seem to sport with the waves, through which they dart with the greatest ease; and, in swimming, glide along, as it were, without any apparent effort, upon the surface, with wonderful velocity." The principal cha- racteristics of the genus are, a long, straight, sharp-pointed bill ; no tail; legs placed far back, thin, and doubly- serrated behind; and toes furnished with mem- branes (Figs. 166 and 167, beak and foot of the Grebe.) They are capable of rising from the water, but cannot take wing from land, except it be from an eminence ; they walk with the body upright, and are liable to fall forward if urged beyond their usual slow pace. They frequent inland waters during the summer months; and retire to the sea when the brooks and pools are frozen. They build their nests either in holes of rocks or among the reeds in marshy places, and lay two or three eggs. The Eared Dobchick, or Eared Grebe (Fig. 168) is about twelve inches in length, and weighs nearly twenty ounces. The upper parts of the plum- age are black, the under white, and the sides rust-coloured; the tips of the mandibles are white; the base of the upper one red, and the remainder of both black : the head is covered THE AVIARY. 267 with thick black plumage, except that large tufts of an orange colour rise behind the eyes, and spreading out in a backward direction, nearly meet behind the head at their tops. The hen lays three or four white eggs; the nest is built of dry weeds, and placed on the surface of the water, among flags and rushes. WEB-FOOTED. The web-footed birds principally live in the water. Their nests are made on the ground, in holes, or among rushes; and, in some cases, upon the shelves, or in the cran- nies of rocks, near the shore. Some of them lay only one egg each, and others from fifteen to twenty. Their food consists offish, insects, worms, water-plants, &c. The bills of many of them are of singular forms ; but in a great number the beak is broad, dilated, and fur- nished with a kind of nail at the tip. The legs are short and strong, and the feet widely webbed. (Figs. 169 and 170, beak and foot of the Mallard; a, the lower mandible.) Avoset (Recurvirostra): The bill, in birds of this genus, is of a very singular form ; it is thin, depressed, and both mandibles are bent upwards; the legs are long; the feet are palmated, with deep indentations in the web, from the nails backward; the hinder toe is placed high on the leg 173 (Figs. 171 and 172.) The Avoset (Fig. 173) known in this country, weighs about thirteen ounces : its plumage is white, variegated with black patches, the form and situ- ation of which vary in differ- ent individuals. The thighs and legs are of a pale blue colour; the bill is black, and between three and four inches long. In some parts of England, Avosets are common about the mouths of rivers in the winter: during the breeding season they retire to the fens. The female, when disturbed from her nest, is said to counterfeit lameness. 23 268 THE AVIARY. She lays two eggs about the size of a pigeon's, of an ashy gray colour, marked with dark brown irregular spots. The Avoset is a very lively and active bird: it feeds on worms, insects, &c. which it scoops out of the mud by means of its peculiarly-shaped bill. Flamingo (Phoenicopterus) : This genus is distinguished by a very broad beak, suddenly depressed about the middle, and ser- rated at the edges ; the legs are long, and the feet webbed (Figs. 174 and 175.) Although the body of the Fla- mingo is scarcely equal in size to that of a Swan, the neck is nearly three feet, and the legs two feet eight to two feet ten inches, in length. These birds wade breast-deep in water, oc- casionally, but are not accounted swimmers. The Red Flamingo, when full grown, is of a vivid scarlet colour, except at the tips of the wings, which are black. It frequents the sea-coasts of Africa and South America, and feeds on fish, water- insects, and vegetables. The nest of the Flamingo is formed of mud, in the shape of a truncated cone, the top being hollowed so as to admit only the breast of the bird: it is usually built in a marshy pool, and raised a little above the surface of the water. Albatross (Diomedia) : The Albatross is a very large and fierce bird, principally found near capes and headlands in Africa and America j but its wander- ings are occasionally so extensive, that it is seen in various parts of the world, and met with at greater distances from land than any other bird. The bill of the Albatross is large, hooked, and up- wards of six inches in length; die toes are web- bed and of a flesh colour (Figs. 176 and 177, beak and foot of Albatross.) The wings fre- quently measure, when stretched out, nearly ten feet; the plumage on the top of the head is of a brownish tint; the back is dusky, with brown spots, and the feathers on the under parts white. The Albatross is said to prey on small water-fowl, as well as fish. THE AVIARY. 269 Auk (Alca) : The bill, in birds of the Auk kind, is particu- larly strong, thick, compressed at the sides, and convex (Figs. 178 and 179, beaks of the Razor-bill and Puffin) : the nostrils are linear, and placed parallel to the edge of the bill ; the toes are three in num- ber, webbed, and all pointing for- ward (Fig. 180, foot of Razor-bill.) The Puffin, or Coulterneb, says Evans, is the most extraordinary bird that frequents the coast of Britain: its body is not larger than a Pigeon's, but its bill is of an uncommon size and shape: it is flat, with the edge upwards, and said to resemble the coulter of a plough; its legs are placed so far back, that it moves awkwardly, and with great difficulty gets upon the wing. During the winter months, these birds frequent the northern parts of Europe. About May they begin to arrive on our coasts: a few days after their arrival, they prepare for breeding, by burrowing in the ground, in a winding direction, to the depth of eight or ten feet; and if they happen to get under a large stone, they consider themselves still more secure : in this fortified retreat the female lays one egg, relying upon its courage and strength of bill, with which it bites terribly, to ward off the attempts of its enemies, the Falcons. The Great Auk, or Northern Penguin (Fig. 181) is consider- ably larger than the Puffin: like that bird, the hen lays only one egg of an immense size, streaked and spotted with purple arid rust colour; it does not burrow like the Puffin, but lays upon a rocky ledge, as near as possible to the sea. The Razor-bill, also, lays her single large egg upon the bare rock, upon places which are so smooth, that it is wonderful the wind, or even the touch of the bird, does not roll it off: it has been said, that if it be moved by the human hand, it is almost impossible to replace it in its previous steady position. Hence, authors have been led to suppose, that the egg, when first laid, is fixed to the rock 270 THE AVIARY. by the glutinous limy substance which covers the shell, and hardens so as to keep it firmly in the place where it is first depo- sited, until the young one is hatched. Razor-bills migrate in im- mense numbers, during the breeding season, to various parts of the coast round the British islands: in some places thousands of them may be seen on rocks overhanging the sea, sitting on the ledges, in regular rows, and tier above tier, in the act of incubation ; each bird knowing her own egg among the multitudes by which it is surrounded, and hatching it without molesting or being molested by her neighbours. Diver (Colymbus): Several species of this genus frequent the Bhores of these islands. The bill is straight and sharp-pointed ; the edges of each mandible bend in- wards: the upper is longer than the lower one ; the tongue is serrated, and the nostrils linear : the legs are thin and placed very much backward; the feet are webbed ; the toes are four in number, the exterior one is longer than the others (Figs. 182 and 183, beak and foot of the Diver.) The Imber, or Immer Diver, is found in various parts of the world : it is nearly three feet in length ; of a dusky brown or ash colour on the upper parts, and white on the breast, &c. It is a most expert diver, and (according to Buffon) swims under water to the distance of an hundred paces, without ascending to take breath: a portion of air, included in its dilated windpipe, supplying its respiration during this interval. Latham states, that it is sometimes taken, twenty yards under water, with a net, or an iron hook baited with fish. The latter author informs us, that the Imber makes its nest among reeds and flags, and, like the Grebe, places it on the water. Tern (Sterna): The beak, in birds of the Tern genus, is straight and pointed ; the nostrils are linear ; the tail is forked ; and the feet are furnished with scalloped webs. (Figs. 184 and 185, beak and foot of Tern.) The Terns, or Sea Swallows, are remarkably nimble birds: they remain for a long time on the wing, catching numbers of insects which skim over the water, in their flight, and occasionally darting, with astonish- ing velocity, upon such small fish as they perceive swimming near its surface. They are seen in large flocks near the sea-shore, THE AVIARY. 271 and at the mouths of great rivers, during the breeding season. Some of the species lay their eggs upon the bare rock, like the Great Auks and Razor-bills ; others prefer holes in sand, or banks ; and a few make their nests among the reeds and flags of marshy places. The Common Tern (Fig. 186) is frequently met with about the English coasts, and also on the banks of rivers near the sea, in this country. It measures fourteen inches in length; the bill is of a roseate colour ; the legs and feet are also red ; the top of the head is black ; the plumage on the upper parts of the body is ashy: that of the breast, &c. is white. The eggs of the Com- nion Tern, which, it is said, die bird only covers at night, or while it rams during the day, are spotted with black at the larger end, on a dusky olive ground. The nest is formed among grass, reeds, or such other tall, coarse weeds as are found near the mouths of rivers, or on the banks of lakes. Gull (Larus) : The birds of this genus are widely dispersed ; and, in many parts of the world, assemble on the sea-coast, and near the mouths of rivers, in prodigious numbers: they are very voracious, and devour, not only fish, but all sorts of putrid sub- stances, slugs, snails, worms, &c. for which they often travel far inland. They are cowardly and cruel in disposition, and will attack and devour even any of their com- pan ions that happen to get wounded. The plumage of these birds varies materially, according to their age, so that some con- fusion exists among naturalists, as to the various species (Fig. 3, page 186, the Black- toed Gull.) Their bills are strong, straight, and rather hooked at the top ; the nostrils are oblong, and situated in the middle of the upper mandible. The three forward toes are webbed together : the hinder one is very small, and de- tached (Figs. 187 and 188, beak and foot of Gull.) Petrel (Procellaria) : This is a very interesting genus of birds. The Petrels have been properly described as the adventurous in- habitants of the ocean; sporting in the tempest, and flying or 23* 272 THE AVIARY. swimming, with apparent delight, among the billows, they are met with in all latitudes, by mariners; but are scarcely ever seen on 189 shore, except during the breeding season. The bill, in the birds of this genus, is hooked at the end, but straight towards the base ; the legs are destitute of plumage above the knees ; the nos- trils are contained in one and sometimes two V tubes; the foot is furnished with three toes, webbed, and all pointing forward, and with a spur behind (Figs. 189 and 190, beak and foot of the Petrel.) The Stormy Petrels are the birds which seamen term Mother Gary's Chickens. So great is their agility, that they seem to run along the surface of the sea, rather than swim or fly: they are, probably, the smallest of all this order of birds, being scarcely more than six inches in length. They dive and fly, as well as swim, with great rapidity, and seem to possess the power of fore- seeing a storm ; long before any symptoms of its approach can be discerned by the most experienced seaman, they frequently approach, in numbers, towards a ship, and shelter themselves in its wake. The Fulmar, which is another bird of this genus, is also stated, by Pennant, to be a certain prognosticator of the change of wind; for if it come to land, no west wind is expected for some time ; and the contrary, if it keep at sea. The food of the Petrels consists of such gross and putrid substances as float in the water. Flocks of Fulmars will follow the track of a wounded whale, to prey on its carcass when the creature is no longer able to sink; and it is even said, that they occasionally perch on the backs of living whales, and peck out pieces of their flesh. From their gross mode of feeding, the Petrels are remarkably fat and rancid. When attacked, they possess the power of ejecting oil from their bills on their adversaries. The Fulmar supplies the inhabitants of St. Kilda, and some other places, with oil for their lamps; and the people of the Feroe and Orkney Islands con- vert the little Stormy Petrel into a candle, by drawing a wick through its body. The Petrels lay their eggs in caverns and clefts of rocks, near the sea ; and at a very early period entice their young to follow them over the waters. (Fig. 191, the Stormy Petrel.) THE AVIARY. 273 Merganser (Mergus) : In this genus the bill is slender, round- ish, and furnished with a crooked horny tip; the edges are strongly serrated; the nostrils are almost in the middle of the upper mandible; the feet are webbed; the legs are short, and the toes long : the three forward ones are nearly of an equal length. (Figs. 192 and 193, beak and foot of the Goosander.) The Hooded Merganser, which, according to Catesby, frequents fresh waters, more especially mill- ponds, in Virginia and Carolina, is very remarkable for its fine tuft, or crown of white feathers, tipped with black, and covered at their base by other black feathers which spring from the top of the head, just above the eyes. The breast and lower parts of this bird are white; the neck and back, black ; the quills of the tail and wings, brown : except the innermost in the wings, which are black, and marked with a white streak. The inner toes are slightly webbed on their out- sides, and the back toes on their lower parts (Fig. 194, the Hooded Merganser.) The Goosander, which, like the other birds of this genus, is an excellent diver, and remains for a considerable time under water, hath (says Willoughby) a huge bony labyrinth on the windpipe, just above the divarications ; and the windpipe hath besides, two swellings-out, one above the other, each resembling a powder-puff: these, it is probable, contain a supply of air, which the bird in- spires when diving, and is thus en- abled to remain a much longer time beneath the surface of the water, in pursuit of its prey, than it possibly could if its windpipe were of the usual construction (Fig. 195, windpipe of the Goosander.) Duck (Anas) : This genus comprises a great number of very beautiful species of birds; many of which are inhabitants, and several others, visitants of these islands. A few of them have been domesticated, and are exceedingly useful to man, on account of the excellent flavour of their flesh; others, equally delicious, are sent to market in immense quantities, during the winter season, by fowlers, who catch them by means of snares, decoys, &c. This 274 THE AVIARY. genus is distinguished by having a broad, flattish bill, with the tongue sharply fringed, the edges of the mandibles serrated, and the end of the bill frequently fur- nished with a nail; the feet are webbed, and the middle toe is the longest. (Figs. 196, 197, 198, the beaks of the Wild Swan, Sheldrake, and Shoveller Duck ; Fig. 199, foot of the Swan; and, a, flat view of the Sheldrake's upper mandible.) The Wild Swan is endowed with a fine form, to which it is enabled to impart the most graceful motion, and possesses plumage of the finest white imaginable. Wild Swans in- habit the northern parts of the world, but migrate southward when the weather threatens to become unusually severe. They are also said to assemble, in immense multitudes, on the lakes, at the setting in of the frosty season, and, by constant motion, and continually beating the water with their wings, prevent such parts as they prefer, or which abound with food, from freezing. The food of the Wild Swan consists of seeds and roots of plants, insects, and fish. The female builds a nest of water-weeds, and usually lays six or eight white eggs. Our reader has, doubtless, heard of the supposed musical voice of the dying Swan: an error which was so generally adopted by the ancients, that a Swan became symbolical of poetry. The truth is, that the Wild Swan emits only a harsh and unpleasing sound: and the voice of the Tame Swan is altogether destitute of power or sweetness. The Tame Swan is larger, and of a stouter form than the wild species; it has a reddish, or orange-coloured beak, with a large black knob on the base of the upper man- dible; the Wild Swan's beak is black, and its cere yellow. But the greatest distinction is in the in- ternal organization: the windpipe of the Tame Swan is simple in its form (Fig. 200) : that of the Wild Swan enters into a cavity prepared for its reception THE AVIARY. 275 in the breast-bone, and is doubled therein, before it enters the lungs (Fig. 201) : this, it is said, enables the bird to utter its singular, harsh, and powerful note. The plumage of the Tame Swan, in whiteness, is equal to that of the wild species. Its food consists of fish and water-plants. The female makes her nest in the weeds of some islet, or the bank of the water on which she is kept : she lays from six to eight white eggs; and the young, which are called cygnets, are hatched in six weeks, or (as some writers say) two months. The cygnets are of a fine brown colour, and do not obtain their perfect plumage for the first year of their lives. In former times, cygnets were con- sidered as dainties, and the Swan was held in greater esti- mation than at pre- sent: although it is still a felony even to steal their eggs from the islands of an open river ; and the Swans on the Thames are under the immediate guardianship of the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London (Fig. 202, the Tame Swan.) Of the Goose tribes we shall select, for description only, the Barnacle Goose, and the Guinea, or Swan Goose. Various fabulous accounts are given of the Barnacle Goose (Fig. 203.) Some authors have asserted, that the birds are produced from shells (see Anatifer, fig. 2, page 89 of this work,) which grow on the bottoms of ships that have been long at sea, and on wood that has remained for a con- siderable time in the water: others have stated, very gravely, that the Barnacle Goose grew on trees; that the fruit fell into the 276 THE AVIARY. water, when ripe, and became living birds. Barnacle Geese are found in this country in hard winters; but they depart, with num- bers of other water-fowl, at the approach of spring, to breed in more northern latitudes. The Guinea, or Swan Goose, is remarkable for the proud and erect carriage of its body. It has a knob of considerable size on the base of its upper mandible, and, generally speaking, a loose bare pouch under its throat. It is supposed that the Swan Geese were originally brought from Guinea: they are now scattered over various parts of the world, and kept, by the curious, with other do- mestic water-fowl, which they very much resemble in their habits. The plumage of the Swan Goose varies, like that of all other tarne fowls; but the general colour of the feathers is brownish, with light edges of a fainter hue on the under parts than on the back and wings (Fig. 204, the Swan Goose.) The Tame Duck, which has been rendered so valuable to man by domestication, owes its origin to the Mallard, or Wild Drake, to which, notwithstanding it has been so long under the dominion of man, the Tame Duck bears a great resemblance in figure and plumage. The Mallards arrive in this country early in the winter from the more northern climates, to which they return again in ^^ ^* spring; but a few stragglers re- main and breed among the fens and marshes of these islands ; and the broods thus produced, inha- bit this country throughout the year. The wild species pair in the breeding season; but this is not the case with the domestic tribe. The female makes her nest among reeds, in marshy places, and generally lays about twelve or fourteen eggs of a pale greenish colour (Fig. 205, the Mallard.) The Teal is a very beautiful species of this genus, and, during the winter months, is common in many parts of England: it retires northward in the spring, but has occasionally been met with THE AVIARY. 277 in this country, during the breeding season, surrounded by young ones. The nest of the Teal is usually concealed in a hole, beneath 206 reeds and other water plants ; it is made of weeds and lined with fea- thers. The femaje lays from six to twelve eggs, of a pale white colour, about the size of those of a Pigeon. Like the Mallards, and other birds of this genus, the Teal feeds on worms, insects, small fish, seeds, and water-plants. Its flesh is considered to be of excellent flavour. (Fig. 206, the Teal.) An enlargement of the windpipe, rather similar to that of the Goosander, is found among the birds of this genus (Figs. 207 and 208, wind- pipes of the Mallard and Golden-eyed Duck.) In the language of Willoughby, the windpipe of the Golden-eyed Duck hath a labyrinth at the divarications, and, besides, swells out above into a puff-like cavity. Pelican (Pelicanus) : In this genus, which includes the Cor- morant, Man-of-war Bird, Gannet, &c. as well as the Pelican, the bill is hooked, or sloping (Figs. 209, 210, and 211, beaks of the Pelican, Cormorant, and Gannet) : the nostrils are often scarcely distinguishable ; the face is usually bare, beneath the lower mandible is a loose skin, capable of very great extension. In some of the species the legs are placed very far backward, so that the body appears nearly up- right; the feet are broad, and the toes four in number; all of them are united by a web (Fig. 212.) The Pelican is larger than the Swan: its shape is awkward; its movements inelegant, and its bill im- mensely large. Its plumage is whitish, dashed with yellow on the 278 THE AVIARY. neck, and black on the back. Beneath the lower mandible there is a pouch, which can be distended to a great extent (see fig. 209) : this serves the bird as a receptacle for the fish which it takes while on the wing ; and, on its return to shore, it dislodges the whole or a part of the contents, by pressing the pouch between its beak and breast, either to satisfy its own appetite, or to feed its young. From this circumstance arose the fictitious story of the Pelican tearing its own breast to nourish its nestlings. This bird is found in various parts of the Old World, but it very rarely appears in this country. The Pelican usually builds in low, waste, marshy spots: its nest is formed of sedges, and lined with soft grass: the hen lays two or three white eggs. THE TOILET. Discourse we now of silks and cloth of gold ; Of robes for birth-days and high festivals ; The maiden's simple, unadorn'd attire, And of the modest toilet of the bride. 5 UR intention in the treatment of this delicate and important subject is by no means to attempt establishing a beau ideal of dress; because, even in the event of our being successful, it would be only applicable to the beau ideal of form and feature: indeed, it appears to us, that there is not only a perfect style of costume, adapted to the various classes of figure and face, but for almost every individual of which they are composed. To enter into a description of these styles, would be to embark into an hopeless and endless task; for, to be complete, they must be as infinite and varied as nature herself. Our limits may be much more advantageously occupied by an inquiry into general principles, leaving their application, in most cases, to the young reader's taste, which, however, we shall endeavour in our pro- gress, to correct, advance, or confirm. Although the Toilet should never be suffered to engross so much of the attention as to interfere with the higher duties of life, yet, as a young lady's dress, however simple, is considered 24 280 THE TOILET. a criterion of her taste, it is, certainly, worthy of her attention. Her chief object, in this respect, should be, to acquire sufficient skill and good taste to do all that is needful, with regard to die attire, in the least possible period of time, to abbreviate the labours of the Toilet, so as not to entrench upon hours which should be devoted to the useful avocations of life, or the embel- lishments of the mind. It will be a laudable ambition in her, to curb those excesses of " each revolving mode " with which she is in some measure obliged to comply; to aim at grace and deli- cacy rather than richness of dress; to sacrifice exuberance of ornament (which is never becoming to the young) whenever it is possible, to an admirable neatness, equally distant from the prim and the negligent; to learn the valuable art of imparting a charm to the most simple article of dress, by its proper adjustment to the person, and by its harmonious blending, or agreeably contrasting with the other portions of the attire. It is a truth, which should ever be borne in mind, that a higher order of taste is often displayed, and a better effect produced, by a paucity or total absence of ornament, than by the most profuse and splendid decorations. The youth- ful Isabella of Portugal looks better in that simple head-dress in which she is occasionally depicted (fig. 1,) than in the nuptial robes which she wore on the day of her marriage with Philip the Good. Fashion demands a discreet, but not a servile observance: much judgment may be shown in the time, as well as the mode, chosen for complying with her caprices. It is injudicious to adopt every new style immediately it appears; for many novelties in dress prove unsuccessful, being abandoned even before the first faint impression they produce is worn off; and a lady can scarcely look much more absurd than in a departed fashion, which, even during its brief existence, never attained a moderate share of popularity. The wearer must, therefore, at once relinquish the dress, or submit to the unpleasant result we have mentioned: so that, on the score of economy, as well as good taste, it is advisable not to be too eager in following the modes which whim or inge- nuity create in such constant succession. On the other hand, it is unwise to linger so long as to suffer " Fashion's ever-varying flower" to bud, blossom, and nearly " waste its sweetness" before we gather and wear it : many persons are guilty of this error ; THE TOILET. 281 they cautiously abstain from a too early adoption of novelty, and fall into the opposite fault of becoming its proselytes at the eleventh hour : they actually disburse as much in dress as those who keep pace with the march of mode, and are always some months behind those who are about them; affording, in autumn, a post-obit remi- niscence to their acquaintance, of the fashions which were popular in the preceding spring. Such persons labour under the further disadvantage of falling into each succeeding mode when time and circumstances have deformed and degraded it from its " high and palmy state:" they do not copy it in its original purity, but with all the deteriorating additions which are heaped upon it subse- quently to its invention. However beautiful it may be, a fashion rarely exists in its pristine state of excellence long after it has become popular: its aberrations from the perfect are exaggerated at each remove; and if its form be in some measure preserved, it is displayed in unsuitable colours, or translated into inferior ma- terials, until the original design becomes so vulgarized as to disgust. There are many persons who, while they affect to despise Fashion, and are ostensibly the most bitter enemies of " the goddess with the rainbow zone," are always making secret com- pacts and compositions with her. Their constant aim is to achieve the effect of every new style of dress, without betraying the most distant imitation of it: they pilfer the ideas of the modiste, which they use (to adopt the happy expression of Sir Fretful) " as gipsies do stolen children, disfigure them to make them pass for their own." This is pitiful hypocrisy. Although the fickle goddess rarely approaches the realms of the truly beautiful, except immediately after having rioted in the re- gions of absurdity; and scarcely sojourns in the classic air of Greece for a moment, ere she wings her way to that which is most Gothic and barbarous ; yet, in spite of her absurdities, she is not only obeyed, but admired in all ages and in all climes. By the force of habit, and by an unconscious association in the mind of a dress and its wearer, Fashion, even to those who are somewhat fas- tidious, generally appears graceful. To please her, the fine lady of one country almost feeds herself into an apoplexy; and the would-be beauty of another, starves herself into ' the sister to a shade." The Chinese females cripple their feet; and the Eu- ropeans torture their waists into the narrowest possible compass. In one age she induces the fair sex to cover their faces with patches; and in the next, to blush if necessity compel them to apply one ; alternately, to cashier, as it were, their natural tresses 282 THE TOILET. in favour of " false locks set on wires to make them stand at a distance from the head," as the honest old herald, Randle Holme, describes the fashions of 1670 (Fig. 2;) to elevate their hair to an immoderate height, as exhibited in the fine portraits of Sir Joshua Reynolds (Fig. 3;) and to cultivate it into those ringlets drooping over the ears, so much admired in the fifteenth century, which have often come into partial favour during our own time (Fig. 4.) General fashions should certainly be conformed to, when, as Goldsmith observes, they happen not to be repugnant to private beauty. They may often be so modified as to suit the persons of all ; and occasionally be so managed as to seem to have been created expressly for the most advantageous display of many individuals* graces of form or delicacy of complexion. But alterations in modes must be made with considerable judgment, otherwise there is a risk of falling into absurdities : sometimes they are altogether in- tractable ; it is impossible so to change a fashion, which has been especially invented for some tall and slender arbitress of taste, that it may at once retain much of its original character, and look becoming one whose form is either stout or petite. In this and similar cases the attempt should be abandoned, with the consoling idea, that the next mode will, in all probability, be decidedly advantageous to those who are, for the time being, debarred by nature from appearing at once graceful and fashionable, and the C6 Cynthias of the minute, " in their turn, be thrown into the shade; for the authenticity of every new edict of Fashion is usually war- ranted by the fact of its being directly opposite, in letter and spirit, to its predecessor: thus, if one year she elevate the zone to its utmost possible height, she generally depresses it in an equally unreasonable degree the next ; if she prescribe evergreens for the ombellishment of the hair, in June, she commands " summer's THE TOILET. 283 glowing coronal," for the same purpose, in December. Should high flounces be patronized, short ladies must abstain from adopting them, because they are be- coming only to the tall; and if narrow dresses obtain pre-eminence, the slen- der must not sacrifice that fulness in the attire, for which, to them, the most exquisite display of fashion can never be a sufficient compensation. The example of those who have long necks and low shoulders, should never lead those of a different style of person, to wear necklaces of great breadth, to raise the dress towards the ears, or, by quantity of drapery, or pro- fusion of ornament, to produce an apparent union of the head-gear and the shoulders. Such a costume as that of Elizabeth of York, queen of Henry the Seventh (Fig. 5,) may add dignity to a certain order of forms, but it would certainly produce a contrary effect on the appearance of those who have neither long necks nor depressed shoulders. Jewellery should never be used to cover any imperfections of form in the neck ; it is in much better taste, for such a purpose, to wear a neat collar, reaching as high as the cheek (Fig, 6, Mary Queen of England.) Those who happen to be faultless in this respect, look better, perhaps, with the neck altogether unadorned (Figs. 7 and 8, costumes of Mary de Berri, wife of John Duke of Bourbon, and of Anne Boleyn.) 6 7 Whatever be the reigning mode, and however beautiful a fine head of hair may be generally esteemed, those who are short in 24 * 284 THE TOILET. stature, or small in features, should never indulge in a profuse display of their tresses, if they would, in the one case, avoid the appearance of dwarfishness and unnatural size of the head, and in the other, of making the face seem less than it actually is, and thus causing what is merely petite to appear insignificant. If the hair be closely dressed by others, those who have round or broad faces should, nevertheless, continue to wear drooping clusters of curls; and, although it be customary to part the hair in the centre, the division should be made on one side, if it grow low on the forehead and beautifully high on the temples ; but if the hair be too distant from the eyebrows, it should be parted only in the middle, where it is generally lower than at the sides, whatever temptations Fashion may offer to the contrary. We might multiply instances ad libitum j but the foregoing cases will, we doubt not, satisfactorily elucidate our proposition. It is our object to impress on our readers, the propriety of complying with the ordinances of Fashion, when their observance is not forbidden, by individual peculiarities ; and the necessity of fearlessly setting them at de- fiance, or offering only a partial obedience, when a compliance with them would be positively detrimental to personal grace : by these means they may escape ^ie imputation of resembling those pictures, in which " the face is the work of a Raphael, but the draperies are thrown out by some empty pretender, destitute of taste, and entirely unacquainted with design." To form the taste and improve the style of dress, a careful observation of classical figures, and some of the costumes of by- gone centuries, will, doubtless, be found of considerable advantage. 9 10 11 Let not the reader imagine that it is impossible to borrow hints for the attire from such sources without incurring a risk of appear- ing somewhat antiquated ; for several of the most popular modes of the present century have been mere revivals of ancient costumes THE TOILET. 285 Prince Rupert's mother appears to have dressed her hair very much in the same manner as a number of ladies did only a few years since (Fig. 9;)andthe gentle Lady Jane Grey's attire (Fig. 10) is very similar to that of a plainly-dressed young woman of our own time; but these are minor resemblances to what some of the costumes of past times afford. The female head-dress in 1688 (Fig. 11,) for instance, is remarkably similar to that which was very lately in fashion among the ladies of this country. Holme states, that the forehead was adorned with a knot of divers-co- loured ribbons, the head with a ruffle quoif set in corners, and the like ribbons behind the head : and this mode does not appear to have been an invention of our author's day, but rather a revival of some mode of a still more remote period ; for, in speaking of this and other devices of the like nature, he says, all are brought again from the old; for there is no new thing under the sun, and what is now hath been formerly. We have still a much more singular coincidence of coeffure in reserve than any that have hitherto been noticed. However strange 2 the statement may appear in words, it is true in fact, that the small bonnets worn by the ladies of England a few years ago, and which struck our neigh- bours, the French, as being so exces- sively ridiculous, that they are still found in their caricatures of English women, those awkward, inelegant, and now deservedly-abolished little bonnets, are almost fac-similes of the helmet of Minerva, on Lord Montague's chrysolite (Fig. 12.) In attempting to engraft any part of the attire of olden times upon modern styles, as much discretion and judgment are required as in the modification of an ephemeral fashion to personal pecu- liarities : in the words of an Eastern sage, it is not enough that we go into the valley of flowers to gather a rose, even there we should not snatch, but select. In turning over the leaves of a port- folio of old prints, or a richly-illuminated missal, a lady must not hastily adopt a head-dress because it is attractive and unexception- able in the place it occupies : she should rather consider, in the first place, whether it will admit of being incorporated with the style of the day; and next, if it will become her own figure or features. The coeffure of Sappho, however classical it may be, would by no means suit a round and (if we may use the term) 286 THE TOILET. rural face; the Greek style of head-dress requires features of a Grecian form ; and there are few faces that can afford to cover the finer portion of the forehead by natural curls, or artificial orna- ment. (Fig. 13, head of Sappho. Fig. 14, Greek head, from a gem. Fig. 15, the Taure head-dress of 1674.) 13 14 15 Although sharp features will never be improved by their being surmounted with a cone-shaped cap; nor a short face, or one which expresses a meek and retiring disposition, by a regal coef- fure, there are classes of features to which either of these styles would be suitable. (Fig. 16, head of the Dauphiness Margaret of Scotland, 1400. Fig. 17, Train-bearer to Isabella, of Bavaria, Queen of Charles the Sixth of France.) 16 17 But even those to whom such costumes would be very becom- ing, must not venture to adopt them when low head-dresses are exclusively worn. They must then rather have recourse to the THE TOILET. 237 pictorial records of those eras when comparatively low coeffures were in vogue (Figs. 18, 19, and 20, head-dresses in Luther's time.) 18 19 20 It is almost impossible to form a theory of the proper combina- tion of colours applicable to dress : they are subject to a thousand contingencies, and we daily discover agreeable harmonies of tint where we least expected them, and excruciating discords produced by the juxta-position of hues, which, from our previous experience, we were induced to imagine would prove pleasing rather than offensive. The influence of some neighbouring tint, the position of the colours combined, their relative stations, and the materials adopted for each, frequently tend to produce these effects. The colour of a single rosette often destroys the general tone and ap- pearance of the dress, and occasionally it may be managed with such skill as to blend the tints of two or more principal parts of the costume, which, without some such mediator, would render each other obnoxious to the eye of taste. It is quite certain, that the same colour, which imparts a liveliness and brilliancy when used for light embellishments, and in a small quantity, becomes vulgar, showy, and disagreeable, if adopted for the most extensive portion and leading tint of the attire ; and, on the other hand, the delicate or neutral colours, which look well when displayed over a con- siderable surface, dwindle into insignificance if used in small de- tached portions for minor ornaments. Generally speaking, trim- mings will bear a greater richness of colours than the principal material of the dress, the breadth of which is apt entirely to subdue its decorations if they be not a little more powerful in tint. But it is a grave error to endow the minor parts of the costume with an undue superiority over the rest; it should never be forgotten, that the trimming is intended to embellish the dress, rather than that the dress should sink into a mere field for the display of the trimming: sufficient importance should always be given to the latter, so that it may enhance the beauty, add to the richness, or 288 THE TOILET. harmonize with the purity and neatness of the former; but if its colours be too strong, or even when of the proper shade, if the material be too profuse, or not of a quality sufficiently delicate, it gives to the wearer either a frittered, gaudy, or coarse appearance, according to the nature of the fault. The same tint which looks well in a delicate material, will not become an article which is made of sterner stuff." The occurrence of glaring offences against good taste in the trimmings or fixed embellishments of any principal part of the attire, is rare, compared with those which are perpetrated in the minor articles of gloves, shoes, ribbons, &c. which are the more im- portant of the two, because they are not the trimmings or finishing decorations of a part, but to the whole of the costume. The for- mer are usually left to the experience of the milliner, or copied from the production of some tasteful modiste; the latter depend solely on the judgment of the private individual. How often have we seen a dress, exquisite in all its parts, utterly ruined, by the wearer, as a finishing touch, drawing on a vulgar glove! Much mischief of a similar nature is frequently done, by feathers, flowers, ribbons, shoes, and articles of jewellery. It is not enough that a flower is pretty; it must harmonize with, or form a pleasing con- trast to the other parts of the costume, otherwise its use must be rigorously forbidden. It is the same with jewellery : pearls, for instance, will suit those kinds of dresses which rubies would spoil; and the latter are appropriate in cases where the former would look faint and ineffective. Coloured shoes, we need scarcely say, are exceedingly vulgar: delicate pink, and faint-blue silk, for these articles, have numerous advocates ; but white satin, black satin or kid, and bronze kid, are neater and more elegant than any other colour or material. Gloves should be in the most delicate tints that can be procured: their colour has always an effect upon the general appearance; one kind of hue must not, therefore, be indiscriminately worn, or, however beautiful it may be in itself, obstinately persisted in, when every other part of the attire is constantly subject to change. As it would be in bad taste for a fair young lady, who is rather short in stature, however pretty she may be, if irregular as well as petite in her features, to take for a model, in the ar- rangement of her hair, a cast from a Greek head ; so also would it for one, whose features are large, to fritter away her hair, which ought to be kept, as much as possible, in masses of large curls, so as to subdue, or, at least, harmonize with her features, into THE TOILET. 289 such thin and meagre ringlets as we have seen, trickling, ff few and far between," down the white brow of a portrait done in the days of our first King Charles. Yet there is a class of features, to which even these are becoming : of this we may be convinced by a glance at a collection of portraits of that period; unless, indeed, it be true, that fine features, when ennobled by the in- ward light of intelligence, purity, and goodness, look well in any fashion; that they govern and give character to the style in which they are dressed, and impart a charm to, rather than re- ceive any benefit from, either modes or ornaments. Even if this be the case, there are but few heads which possess, in a sufficient degree, the power to defy the imputation of looking absurd, or inelegant, if the hair be dressed in a style inconsistent with the character of the face, according to those canons of criticism which are founded upon the principles of a pure and correct taste, and established by the opinions of the most renowned painters and sculptors, in every highly-civilized nation, for ages past. In the arrangement of the hair, according to the shape of the face, and expression of the features, in the harmonizing of the colours, used in dress, with the tint of the complexion, in the adaptation of form, fashion, and even material, to the person, there is an ideal beauty, as well as in the figure itself: this beauty is well understood; but it is very difficult, nay, almost impossible, to describe; for it must be considered in relation to, and as modified by, the infinite varieties of form, feature, and complexion. The shades of difference are often so minute; the intermixtures of various styles of person (if we may use the ex- pression) are so manifold; Nature is so illimitable in her beautiful combinations; that, although we may legislate for the few, the very few, who are of any decided order of form, feature, or com- plexion, we cannot do so for the greater portion, the number- less individuals who, though by no means less attractive, may be said to belong to no class, but unite the peculiarities of many. It is admitted, that the brunette will look best in one colour, and the blonde in another; that to the oval face a particular style of dressing the hair is most becoming ; and to the elongated, a mode directly the reverse; that the short should not wear their dresses flounced so high as the tall: but in saying this, we are speaking to a comparatively small number of persons. The decidedly dark, and those of a positively opposite complexion, are few: it is the same with the tall and the short, those with round faces, and the contrary: in each case, the multitude is to be found "in the 290 THE TOILET. golden mean," between the two extremes. The persons com- posing the majority should neither adopt the specific uniform of the blonde or the brunette, the style of dress suitable to the lofty and commanding figure, or to that of the pretty and petite; but modify general principles to particular cases; not by pro- ducing an heterogeneous mixture of a number of different styles, but by adopting a mode which borders upon that adapted to the class to which their persons approach the nearest, without entirely losing sight of, and in some degree being governed by, their own distinguishing and specific peculiarities: in fact, to be guided by that indispensable and ruling power in all matters connected with the Toilet, taste; which, as Demosthenes said of action in rela- tion to eloquence, is the first, second, and third grand requisite, combining the triple qualities of propriety, neatness, and elegance. By its powerful aid, the most simple materials are rendered valu- able; without it, the richest robes, the most costly jewels, and " tresses like the morn," may be so employed as to encumber rather than to adorn. EMBROIDERY. Come hither, come hither, thon forester bold ; Come hither, Sir Maurice, ai. \Vhi-i-e four fair maidens, in cloth of gold, Kmbrode thy victorie. _ . UMEROUS as are the subjects treated on in this work, there are few which furnish a more pleasing occupation than Embroidery To this art our readers are indebted for some of the most elegant articles of dress. It may, also, afford them opportunities of displaying their taste and ingenuity; and offers a graceful occupation, and an inexhaustible source of laudable and innocent amusement. " The great variety of needle- works," says Mrs. Griffith, " which the ingenious women of other countries, as well as of our own, have invented, will furnish us with constant and amusing employment; and though our labours may not equal a Mineron's, or an Aylesbury's, yet, if they unbend the mind, by fixing its attention on the progress of any elegant, or imitative art, they answer the purpose of domestic amusement; and, when the higher duties of our situation do not call forth our exertions, we may feel the satisfaction of knowing, that we are, at least, inno- cently employed." This art fhay be traced to the most distant periods of antiquity. Coloured Embroidery and Tapestry were, according to Pliny, known, in very remote ages, among the Jews and Babylonians. 25 292 EMBROIDERY. As a proof that this art was applied, in the time of Homer, to what may be termed historical subjects, Helen is described, in the third book of the Iliad, as occupied in embroidering the evils of the Greeks and Trojans, of which she was the cause ; and when the intelligence of Hector's death was brought to Andromache, Far in the close recesses of the dome, 1 i :n>ivi- she plied the melancholy loom ; A growing work employed her secret views, Sp.ittt-d, diverse, with intermingled hues. Penelope beguiled the tedious hours, during Ulysses' absence at the siege of Troy, with Embroidery; and we might adduce many other instances, by which it would be clearly shown, that the art was held in equal estimation by the noble ladies of antiquity, as by those of our own country in the olden times, who, surrounded and assisted by their bower-women, employed themselves by re- presenting, in the richest Tapestry-work, the heroic deeds which their living relatives, or noble ancestors, had achieved. Many of these splendid monuments of the genius and industry of the ladies of those days, are still preserved, and constitute the hangings, and other decorations, of the state apartments of some of our old palaces and castles. Magnificent works of this nature were also performed in convents, by the nuns and ladies of rank, who, from choice, or otherwise, resided within their walls ; the talents of the greatest masters in the art of painting being often employed to produce the designs. Raphael's celebrated cartoons were a series of scripture pieces, executed as patterns to be worked in Tapestry. The art, at length, rose into such high esteem, and Tapestry became so generally adoptedj for hangings of apartments, that the needle could no longer supply the immense demand for it; and looms were invented, in which it was woven on the most extensive scale. This improved method is supposed to have originated in Flanders; it was introduced to this country in the reign of Henry the Eighth. James the First gave a large sum of money towards the erection of a manufactory for weaving Tapestry, at Mortlake, on the banks of the Thames, which flourished there for many years. The manufacture of Tapestry in France, was introduced under the auspices of Henry the Fourth; and that kingdom may boast of having once possessed the most magnificent establishment of the kind that ever existed: we allude to the Hotel Royal des Gobelins, which a French dyer, of the name of Giles Gobelin, early in the .sixteenth century, erected for the pur- pose of carrying on his business, near a rivulet, which ran through EMBROIDERY. 293 the suburbs of St. Marcel, in Paris. In the water of this rivulet he discovered certain qualities, which he supposed would be bene- ficial in the prosecution of his improvement on the mode of dyeing red. His undertaking appeared to be so absurd, that the building was called Gobelin's Folly; but, eventually, he produced so splen- did a scarlet, that he grew into high repute as a dyer; and he and his family continued to carry on the business in the same place, until about the year 1667 ; when the building was purchased by the French government, and Tapestry, on an immense scale, was manufactured there for a considerable period. The establishment is still kept up, but has long been a mere shadow of its former greatness. A slight sketch of the mode in which Tapestry was woven in this great manufactory, may not be altogether uninteresting. Artists of eminence were employed to design and paint in water- colours, on stiff card, or pasteboard, patterns, called cartons, or cartoons, of the full size of the subjects intended to be woven. The carton was covered with perpendicular and horizontal black lines ; its surface thus presenting a series of squares, corresponding with those formed by the upright and cross threads of Tapestry. The workman counted the number of squares in each colour on the carton, as a guide to the number of stitches, or threads, to be inserted in worsteds, or silks, of the respective colours, in the Tapestry ; looms, both perpendicular and horizontal were employed, similar in general principle to those in which carpets and hearth- rugs are woven at the present day. Threads, called the warp, were stitched the long way of the intended piece ; and alternately elevated and depressed by machinery, for the purpose of intro- ducing between them the silks, or worsteds, intended to form the pattern, and which were collected, by the side of the workman, wound on reels, and inserted in the warp by means of a stick, called the flute, corresponding with a weaver's shuttle. The Tap- estry being thus woven in breadths, when joined or fine-drawn to- gether, formed one grand subject, frequently large enough to cover all the sides of a splendid apartment. The manufacture of the loom-woven Tapestry originated in Embroidery with the needle, and presented a precisely similar appearance ; being merely an extension of the art by means of machinery. We shall close our introductory observations with a brief notice of the history of Lace-making, and a few remarks on the various kinds of Lace, L'iJl EMBROIDERY. It has been supposed, by some authors, that the art of making and working in Lace is of great antiquity; but no positive mention of it is made in any of the much more modern than that of producing it with the needle, was first discovered in Saxony, about the year 1561, by a female of the name of Barbara Uttmann. The art, by degrees, found its way to Brussels; and was thence introduced into France, in 1666. A lady, of the name of Du Mont, and her daughters, ob- tained an exclusive privilege for its manufacture; and it soon became so fashionable, that, in a short time, the establishment afforded employment to above two hundred females. The laces now most in use are Brussels-point, Mechlin, Valen- ciennes, Lisle, Chantilly, and Blonde. Most of these are made on a pillow, or cushion, with bobbins, in the following manner: a small table, or frame, has a square hole in its centre, in which revolves, horizontally, a cylinder of wood, covered with several thicknesses of linen, and stuffed underneath with wool. On this pillow is fixed the pattern for working the intended lace: viz. a piece of parchment, on which the (lowers or sprigs are drawn in outline: and the apertures of the Lace are pricked in small holes. The pattern is so drawn, that, when passed round the pillow, and its ends joined, the design runs on in regular continuity. Accord- ing to the pattern of the Lace, and the number of threads, a quantity of small bobbins is used, on which fine threads are wound; they have small handles, by which the threads are twisted, and otherwise interwoven in the working. The thread is confined on each bobbin by a small collar, or clip of bone, having a slit down its side, so as to open a little, and, when pressed on, to retain the thread on the bobbin with a slight elastic pressure. It is not uncommon, in many parts of England, and on the conti- nent, to see the female peasantry at the cottage-doors, engaged in making Lace. They, however, use only a simple cushion, placed on the lap. The apparatus we have described is an im- provement on that mode of working. The ends of the whole of the threads requisite are fastened in a knot, at the commence- EMBROIDERY. 295 ment; and the Net, or Lace, is formed by crossing them over each other; twisting two or three together, and otherwise com- bining them, in too intricate a manner to admit of a proper expla- nation here. The meshes of the Net are formed by brass pins, which are placed in a row on the pillow, according to the holes in the parchment-pattern ; the threads are then passed or entwined round them by throwing the bobbins from one side to the other, and twisting the threads so as to form the meshes; succeeding rows of pins are stuck on the cushion, close to the places where the threads have previously crossed each other ; other meshes are formed around them; the first pins are removed and stuck in the pillow again, and the process continues. The pillow revolves on its centre as the work proceeds along the pattern, and the Lace, as it is finished, passes over the pillow into a drawer underneath. The flowers, or other ornamental subjects, in the Lace, are inter- woven at the same time that the Lace is made, by a minute crossing of the fine threads of which the Net is composed, together with an intermixture of stronger threads, principally for outlines; the whole of the flowers, or subjects, are formed by placing the pins in their proper positions, as guides for the interweaving of the threads. In some kinds of Lace, the more solid parts of leaves or flowers are formed by the introduction of the finest cambric, inter- woven with the Net, or inserted afterwards with the needle. Brussels Point-Lace has always been deemed the most valuable, and is the only sort used in court-dresses, for gentlemen's frills and ruffles, and the principal one for the trimmings of ladies' dresses. The most beautiful and expensive veils are also of this manufac- ture. It may be distinguished by the appearance of some parts of its ornamental leaves, which resemble French cambric; and by a thick and bold prominent thread round their margin, which appears worked over in button-hole stitch with another very fine thread; it has also a peculiar yellow hue, which tint is studiously preserved by rinsing the Lace, after having been washed, in a weak solution of coffee. Mechlin Lace ranks next in estimation for delicacy, firmness, and accuracy in the Net; and the flowers, which are woven in the working, have generally a thicker thread worked in at the same time, and forming their outline. Valenciennes Lace is noted for its strength and durability. Its ornamental sprigs and flowers are woven like those before de- scribed ; but they have not, usually, any outline of thicker thread 25* 296 EMBROIDERY. The Lace of Lisle is strong and useful, but not very fine, and is held in less estimation than those previously mentioned. By Chantilly, is generally understood ;t I/u-e formed of the finest black twists! silk. The veils of this kind are much admired. The thicker parts of the (lowers seem composed of several thick- nesses of silk, having the appearui;e first strained tightly over a wooden frame, and secured with small tacks at the back. The design is then to be sketched in pencil, and coloured in water-colours, rubbed tip with gum-water, as a guide to the colours and shades to be selected in the progress of the work. It is, however, proper to observe, that frames, strained for use, and with subjects drawn and coloured on the holland, or silk, may be purchased at many of the fancy shops. The features of the face, the hair, and all flesh parts, on a silk or satin ground, are usually finished in colours by the artist, and left untouched in the Embroidery. One kind of stitch only is used in this work: it resembles the thread of satin. Having tied a knot at its end, the worsted is first 298 EMBROIDERY. brought from the under-side of the cloth to its surface ; then (in working a sky, earth, grass or water, drapery, or any other plain subject) the need It- is, passed back again, from the upper-side, at about half an inch distance. ; ^,fi nff it more or less, in proportion to the size of the subject. It is again brought up, at about half way distance from the first point; the stitch reaching about as far beyond the second. The stitches are taken the long way of the figure, or subject, ranging in parallel lines, and of unequal lengths, in order more completely to cover the ground (Fig. 1.) In drapery, the stitches should be taken in the same direction as the threads, or grain, would naturally fall. Leaves of trees are worked, for distant effect, in short stitches, crossing each other in various directions. The rough coats of some animals, as the sheep, &c. may be worked in lamb's-wool, of the proper shades. To say anything of the colours to be selected, would be useless; it is only necessary to follow, as closely as possible, the colouring and shading of the artist in the ground sketch, and good taste will avail more than a volume of instructions. An attentive and minute inspection of good specimens, will be of the utmost service; and if the aspirant to excellence in this beautiful art, have not seen the matchless performances of Miss Lin wood, at the exhibition of needle-work, in Leicester-square, let us advise her no longer to deny herself that gratification, or lose the benefit which cannot fail to result from a visit to this splendid collection of pictures, in which some of the finest paintings of the great English and Italian masters are imitated in a style of almost incredible excellence. It is particularly worthy of admiration, that the flesh parts, and even the features of the face, are worked entirely with the needle; and with such talent and delicacy, that, at a very short distance, they cannot be distinguished from the finest productions of the pencil. CHENILLE. Embroidery in Chenille is usually done on white Gros de Naples, or white lutestring, for producing representations of groups of flowers in their natural colours, principally for pictures. Che- nille is a fine silk poil, or nap, twisted spirally round a thread, for purposes such as we are now describing, and round a fine EMBROIDERY. 299 wire when used in making artificial flowers; and has derived its name from its slightly caterpillar-like appearance. The silk, on which it is to be worked, must be strained in the middle of a frame, similar to that used in Worsted-work. A coloured copy is requisite, from which a light outline sketch should be made in pencil on the silk. Chenille of all the requisite shades having been provided, it is attached to the silk, not by passing through, after the manner of Worsted Embroidery, but by sewing, or tack- ing down, as the nap would be much injured by being drawn through the silk. A fine needle, and silk of the same shade as the Chenille to be attached, having been provided, the stalk of the flower is to be commenced by confining to the silk ground the end of the Chenille, with a small stitch of similarly-coloured silk, and which will be concealed in the poil. The Chenille is then to be carried along the stalk, according to the sketch, tacking it in a similar way at intervals; the stalk may be of one, two, or three rows, according to the thickness required. A leaf, if large, is formed by passing the Chenille from the centre vein towards one edge, in a bias direction, backwards and forwards, laying the rows closely together, and confining them at the turnings and at the centre ; the other side is done in a similar manner. For a small leaf, or bud, the Chenille may be passed across the whole breadth of it, and may be turned over itself where necessary. The flowers are to be formed of Chenille in the tints of the coloured pattern, and attached in the various directions which may seem most accordant to their shape. When it is desired to quit any colour, the end of the Chenille is secured by passing a fine silk loop over it, threaded in a needle, and drawing the end of the Chenille through the silk with the loop ; it is then cut off, and the poil will prevent its slipping back. To produce the effect of shading, or blending one tint into another, the Chenille must be set wide, the ends must terminate by being drawn through, as before de- scribed, instead of turning again, and the next colour is to be introduced between. TAMBOUR-WORK. Another kind of Embroidery is executed at the tambour, which is a frame resembling a hoop, over which the material is placed; another hoop, made to fit, is passed over it: both hoops being covered with woollen cloth; and the work is strained tight between them. The hoop is then placed in an horizontal position, between two upright supports, fixed in a stand, and, when in use, placed 300 EMBROIDERY. on a table. For large subjects, a square frame is used, the four sides of which separate, and which, having a number of holes near their ends, are united by moveable pegs, according to the size required. This frame rests on a stand, at a convenient height from the ground. The tambour-needle is a small steel instrument fixed in an ivory handle, and has a small notch near its point, which answers the purpose of a hook ; and, in working, the right hand, which directs the tambour-needle, will always be on the upper side of the work; and the left hand, which supplies the worsted, or cotton, on the lower side. The principal materials on which Tambour-work is employed, are muslin and net, and the Embroidery is generally done in coloured crewels, white twisted cotton, or gold thread. The design is previously drawn on the material or ground with indigo, which will afterwards wash out. If it be intended to work in crewels, a coloured pattern will also-be of service, as a guide to the selection of the worsteds, which are usually worked into very beautiful groups or wreaths of flowers, in their natural colours, principally for the bottoms of dresses. In working, the needle is passed through the muslin, from the upper side; the worsted, or cotton, being held underneath, is placed on the hook, and drawn through, so as to form a loop on the surface. The needle is then passed through that loop, and also through the muslin, at a few threads' distance; a second loop is then drawn up through the first; a third loop through the second; and thus the work is continued. In a narrow or pointed leaf, it is usual to work its complete outline first, passing up one side and down the other, and filling up the middle with succeeding rows. In a round or oval leaf, the stitches should begin at the outside, and form one row within another, terminating in the centre. Stalks are worked in single or double rows, as the thickness in the pattern may require. Small sprigs are sometimes thus embroU dered in gold thread on India muslin, for ladies' headdresses. PRINT-WORK. Print-work, so called from its resemblance to dotted and line engraving, is principally applicable to small subjects, on account of the minuteness of the stitches employed. The design is sketched, in pencil, on white silk, or satin, previously stitched on a frame, as before described. It is worked with a very fine needle, in black silk, or in silk of different shades, from a jet black through all the gradations of a lead hue, to the palest slate-colour. EMBROIDERY. 301 Imitations of dotted engravings are worked in small stitches (similar to the first stitch in marking,) set exceedingly thick; beginning with the darkest parts in black silk, and gradually work- ing towards the lighter parts with silks of appropriate hues; blending them into each other, by setting the dark stitches wider apart, where it is requisite to change the shade; and working those of the next tint into the intervals thus left. It is necessary to place the engraving constantly in view, as a guide for the lights and shades. Subjects in imitation of line-engraving are worked for rather more distant effect than those we have just described. The same fine silks are used, but the stitches must be longer, and set rather apart from each other, according to the lines in the original. WORSTED-WORK. Worsted-work, on canvass, is a subordinate description of Em- broidery. It is applied to the production of rugs for urns, covers of ottomans, bell-pulls, and many other elegant articles. The outline of the pattern is sketched, with a pen, on canvass, strained in the middle of a frame In working a rug, it is usual to commence with the centre, which is done in tent-stitch, or as the first stitch in marking. The worsted is brought from underneath, and passed down again, in an angular direction, over the next cross-thread of the canvass. It is to be particularly observed, that all the stitches must go in one direction ; the colours of the worsted should be selected to imitate the various tints, as in a painting of the same subject. The whole of the ground is to be filled up in the same sort of stitch as that adopted for the centre, with white glazed cotton, worsted, or silk. When the work is removed from the frame, it is advisable to tack a piece of paper over the centre, in order to keep it clean, during the working of the border, which is formed by long loops, in a cross-stitch, on the canvass, taken over a flat ivory mesh-stick. The border is usually done in a scroll pattern, shaded tufts, or shades of colours in lines. When finished, each loop is cut with a pair of scissors ; the rug is then laid flat on a table, and the surface cropped smooth. It should be beaten with a little cane to clear out all the small loose fibres of worsted ; and may be lined, at the back, with glazed cambric, or baize. Ottomans, or foot-stools, are worked all over exactly in the same manner as the centre of a rug. 302 EMBROIDERY. Bell-pulls are also worked with the same worsteds, and in the same stitch as rugs; usually in a running-pattern of flowers, on a strip of canvass, of a proper length, which may be bought, with a selvage on each side, adapted to this peculiar purpose. The ground is generally filled up with a colour that harmonizes with the curtains-, or other decorations, of the room for which the bell- pulls are intended. The edge is either finished by a binding of velvet, or worked in a sloping direction, so as to cover about three threads of the margin of the canvass, and forming a satin- stitch. The top of the bell-ribbon is finished with a tuft, worked on a round piece of canvass, in the same manner as the border of a rug; it is afterwards tacked on a circular piece of pasteboard. Paper patterns, covered with black cross lines, to represent the threads of canvass, and painted on the squares, in the proper colours, may be bought at the worsted shops: but in working from these patterns, it is necessary to use the cross-stitch, which is taken in an angular direction over two threads of the canvass, and then crossed in the same way. The pattern is not to be tacked to the canvass, but merely placed in view, as a copy. The centre of the middle flower, or ornament, is to be first ascertained, and the coloured squares in the pattern counted from it, as a guide for the number of stitches to be taken in each colour on the canvass. EMBROIDERY ON MUSLIN. White Embroidery comprises the art of working flowers, and other ornamental designs, on muslin, for dresses, or their trim- mings ; capes, collars, handkerchiefs, &c. There are two sorts of cotton proper for this work : that which is most generally used, because it washes the best, is the dull cotton ; sometimes called Trafalgar, or Indian. The other sort is the glazed, or English cotton, and is only proper to be used on thin muslin; although it looks infinitely the more beautiful of the two, previously to its being washed, yet that operation destroys its beauty, and removes all its gloss; nor is it so smooth and pleasant to use as the other. Patterns for working may be pur- chased at most of the fancy-shops ; but ladies possessing a taste for drawing, may design their own subjects, by making sketches on paper, in pencil, and afterwards going over them again with ink. A pattern may be copied, by placing a thin piece of paper over the original, and tracing it through, against a window. The outline of a subject already worked, if of a thick, rich description, EMBROIDERY. 303 may be obtained by laying the muslin on a table, placing a piece of white paper over it, and rubbing the paper with a nutmeg, partly grated: this outline may, afterwards, be perfected with a pen. The paper pattern for a running design of flowers, foliage, &c. should be from twelve to eighteen inches long, in proportion to its breadth, and shifted along the muslin as the work proceeds. As this sort of pattern is liable to be soon damaged, it is advisable to strengthen it by a lining of cambric- muslin. The pattern for a cape of a dress is usually of the size of the intended cape ; but a sketch of one- half of the pattern (Fig. 2) may be made to answer the purpose equally well, by retracing the design on the other side of the paper, against a window, and when half the cape is worked, turning the pat- tern over to the other side; in this case the half-pattern must terminate exactly at the middle, or half of the work. The muslin, cambric-muslin, or French cambric, intended to be worked, must be smoothly and evenly tacked on the pattern, so as to prevent its getting out of place; the stems, and external edges of leaves, flowers, or ornaments, must then be traced, by running them round with cotton (Fig. 3) : great care should be taken to preserve their shape and form accurately, as a fault in this stage of the work is not easily remedied afterwards. In working the bottom of a dress, flounce, cape, or collar, the edge of the pattern, which is usually a running scallop, a series of scallops,form ing larger ones (Fig. 4,) a vandyke, or a chain, should be done first. The best and strongest way of working this is in the stitch used for button-hole work. The stalks, 26 part, 304 EMBROIDERY. leading to leaves, or flowers, having been run round as directed, must next be sewn over tolerably thick (Fig. 4.) Where it appears desirable to thicken a stem, or any oilier part of the outline, a piece of the cotton should be laid along the running thread, and both be sewn over together. Leaves, or flowers, are worked in what is called satin-stitch (from the length of the stitches resem- bling the threads in satin): but great care should be taken that the stitches do H not lie over each other, but are evenly ranged side by side (vide Figs 4.) Flowers, or stars, worked in fine worsted, or crewel, of various colours, may be used, with very good effect, in satin-stitch. The work should be slightly pressed with the finger, now and then, to assist in keeping it in shape. Round eyelet holes, or oval ones, in a circle, like a star, or the head of a flower, are sometimes introduced. These are first run round; then a very little bit of the muslin is cut out in the shape of the intended hole, but much smaller, and sewn thickly round ; the needle being run through the centre, and passed under the running thread (Fig. 5.) A leaf, or the head of a flower, is formed, occasionally, by placing a piece of thread-net on the muslin, then running it round in the pattern required, and covering the run- ning thread in button-hole stitch, or thick sewing: the outer part of the thread-net is then cut off with fine- pointed scissors; and the muslinj under the net, cut out in the same way, when removed from the paper pattern (Fig. 5.) The middle of a flower is sometimes ornamented by the intro- duction of very beautiful open work, in imitation of antique Lace; but the various kinds of stitch requisite, and the mode of using them, are so complex and intricate, that a practical description is scarcely possible; and nothing but personal instruction can pro- perly convey a perfect knowledge of their application. We shall, however, endeavour to illustrate the subject, by an engraving of a fancy sprig of leaves and flowers, in the style of rich Antique Lace Embroidery, and attempt to convey a general idea of a few of the stitches used; of which, sixteen distinct kinds are EMBROIDERY. 305 comprised in this pattern (Fig. 6.) Several portions of the leaves and flowers are shown on a larger scale, with references to the various stitches of which they are composed, in Figs. 7, 8, 9, & 10. The stalk is composed of rows of eyelet holes, which are an agreeable variation from the usual mode of sewing steins. The running-thread, which first formed the outline, is withdrawn; and the slight marks left in the muslin, serve as a guide for further operations. Four threads of the muslin are taken on the needle, and sewn over three times; the needle being passed through the same places each time, and the four threads drawn tightly together. The next four threads, higher on the line, are then taken up and sewn over, as the last ; thus, a series of bars is formed, the thread passing, alternately, on the right side and on the left, from one bar to another: care must be taken to keep it at the side, and not to let it run across the apertures. Having proceeded the intended length of the stalk, the sides of the holes must be sewn down ; the needle 306 EMBROIDERY. being passed through each aperture three times, including, within the sewing, the alternate threads before mentioned as running between the bars. The outline of the leaves, in feather-stitch (Fig. 7,) being run round, each separate leaf is done with fine glazed cotton, in an elongated button-hole stitch, from the centre vein to its outer edge, the stitch being gradually shortened towards the points: the threads of the muslin will thus be divided in a line up the middle, which must be filled up in glover's-stitch ; this resembles the button- hole stitch, except that each stitch is taken a little higher up than the preceding one. The outer edge, and the out- line of the separate parts of the leaf (Fig. 8,) comprising a variety of stitches, are run round; the right- hand edge of the leaf is composed, alter- nately, of feather-stitch, and a pattern worked, with glazed cotton, in double button-hole stitch, in which two stitches are taken, side by side; then an equal space is left, and two more are taken ; and thus to the end. The next row is formed by placing similar stitches under the alternate spaces left above, taking in, each time, the threads which run between each pair of stitches. The parts (opposite a d) are done in half- herring-bone stitch, the cross way of the muslin ; four threads being taken on the needle at a time. In forming the second, and succeeding rows, the needle passes through the lower side of the first row of apertures. The ground (6) is com- posed of a series of lines, each formed by drawing together, and sewing over very closely with fine thread, six threads of the muslin. Square spots are formed in the spaces, by sewing, in glazed cotton, over eight of the cross threads; passing the needle, alternately, over the first four, and under the second four. The large rosette (c) is worked in feather-stitch. All the other stitches used in this leaf are described in the succeeding flowers. EMBROIDERY. 307 The cup (a) of the fancy flower (Fig. 9,) is done in feather-stitch. The centre is a series of eyelet holes, formed by passing the needle twice through the same hole ; then repeating the same process at the dis- tance of four threads; and so, in suc- cession, to the end of the row. The second row is formed at the spaces be- tween the holes of the first row, with four threads between each, as before, so that the holes of each row are perfected in the following row. The part (6) is done in half-herring-bone stitch, leaving four threads of the muslin between each row; (c) is formed by drawing together, and sewing over tightly, four threads of the muslin between each row; (d) is worked in double-button-hole stitch; (e) is the same as the centre, with spots in satin-stitch. The centre of the fancy flower (Fig. 10,) is in half-herring-bone stitch, worked in glazed cotton. The small eyelet holes (a) are formed by taking up two threads of the muslin all round ; by the sides of them is a stitch like the cross-stitch in marking, and a short stitch passes over each end of the thread, forming the cross; then follows another eyelet hole and a cross, and the subse- quent rows are done in a similar manner: the eyelet holes in each line being inva- riably placed under the crosses of the line above. The series of holes (6) is formed by sewing over four threads in a cross direction of the muslin, then pass- ing to the next four, and thus till the line is finished; the following rows are done in the same manner, until all the space is filled; the holes are then sewn over in a similar way, but in the contrary di- rection. At (c) six cross-threads of the muslin are drawn together by passing the needle underneath, from one side to the other, and then in contrary directions, thus forming a little spot. The part (d) is formed by sewing over four threads of the straight way of the muslin, and leaving four threads between each stitch; the game line is sewn back again, so as to form a cross over the top. These stitches are susceptible of an endless variety of changes, by introducing spots, bars, or cross lines, in satin-stitch; and in OF TTNIVERSITY 308 EMBROIDERY. the half-herring-bone stitch, by changing the direction of the threads, or leaving spaces, as fancy may dictate. The use of glazed cotton, instead of fine thread, will also give a very different effect to the same stitch. The edge of each flower, and of each compartment of a flower, is to be sewn closely over with glazed cotton. It is not expected that these imitations of Antique Lace- work should be practised on the extended scale here described: the separate stitches may, however, be introduced, as taste may direct, to fill up the centres of modern flowers, or fancy leaves. Muslin, worked with glazed cotton, was formerly called Dres- den-work, but is now known by the name of Moravian, from its production having formed the principal employment of a religious sect, called the Moravian Sisters, which originated in Germany, and some of whose establishments exist in this country: the shops, in London, called Moravian-warehouses, were, originally, opened for the sale of their work ; though they are now become ordinary depots for the various kinds of Fancy Embroidery, pro- duced by the immense numbers of young females, who, in this country, derive their maintenance from the ever-varying use of the needle. Strips of work intended for insertion in plain muslin, or lace, should have a row of hem-stitch on each side, which is thus pro- duced: A margin of the muslin is left on the sides of the pattern, sufficiently broad to wrap over the finger; at a few threads dis- tance from the work, on each side, threads are drawn out to the width of a narrow hem ; and three or four threads, which cross the space thus formed, are taken upon the needle (beginning at one side of the space,) and sewn over, with very fine cotton, about three times, when the thread will have reached the other side; at which point three or four more of the cross-threads are to be added, and the whole sewn twice over, so as to tie the six or eight together at that side: the last number taken up must be then sewn over three times, as the first; by this time the thread will have reached the side from which it first proceeded ; fresh threads are then added, and tied, each time, at the sides, as before ; and so on, from side to side, to the end. Three or four threads are to be taken at a time, according to the width of the space formed by drawing the threads out. The whole hem-stitch, when completed, forms a sort of zig-zag (Fig. 11.) The muslin is joined, by its outer margin, to whatever article of dress it is intended to adorn. EMBROIDERY. 309 Another species of hem-stitch is called Veining, and is intro- duced to give the same appearance as the regular hem-stitch, in curved, or other positions, which would not admit of drawing the threads out (Fig. 12.) It is done on the angular direction, or bias of the muslin, by sewing over two threads of the muslin one way, then taking up two threads of the contrary way, tying them together at one side, as directed in the straight hem-stitch ; then sewing over the latter two threads twice; after crossing to the opposite side, two more are sewn over; and so in continuity, according to the direction required. Cambric pocket-handkerchiefs are generally ornamented with a row of hem-stitch, bordered by a broad hem, or with the outer edges scalloped, and a small pattern embroidered in each scallop. It is fashionable to have the corners embellished with a fancy sprig, and, frequently, with a different pattern in each. Embroidered initials and crests, in one corner, have a very beautiful effect: they are usually surrounded by a wreath of laurel, or some fancy device, in which the leaves and stem are worked in satin- stitch, relieved by a row of eyelet holes. In working the letters, which are also in satin-stitch, great care and delicacy are required, to preserve their proper shape, by lengthening or shortening the stitches, so as to correspond with the varying breadth of the written characters in the pattern. A coronet, or crest, may be worked in satin-stitch, varied with eyelet holes, or any other appropriate stitch, according to the subject. (Fig. 13.) LACE-WORK. The making of lace is not now among the pursuits of ladies ; it will, therefore, be unnecessary to enter into its details: in a previous part of this article, however, we have given such general information on the subject, as will, probably, have proved in- teresting. The only branch of Lace-work which seems to come within our plan, is Embroidery on Net, in imitation of Brussels point-lace, which, for veils, dresses, or their trimmings, is very beautiful in its effect, and, perhaps, exceeds in delicacy every other branch of White Embroidery. 310 EMBROIDERY. Embroidery on Net is performed by placing a piece of French cambric, of a size proportioned to the subject, over the net, and the paper-pattern under both. Then the design (of which each particular leaf, or sprig, ought to be very small, though the clusters should be large) must be run twice round with cotton, the running thread sewn over pretty closely with rather finer cotton, and the external edges of the cambric cut neatly and closely off (Fig. 14.) In de- signing a veil, a small running pattern, worked quite at the edge, is proper; and, when completed, a pearling (which is a species of lace-edging, to be had at the lace-shops) should be sewn round the outside, to give it a finish: on the lower part of the veil, within the running border, there should be a handsome pattern worked across. This style is very easy of execution, and is an excellent imitation of what it is intended to represent. Net is also worked by running the outline of leaves and flowers with glazed cotton, darning inside the running with fine cotton, doubled, and filling up the centre of the flower with half-herring-bone stitch, from one side to the other (Fig. 15.) Instead of darning within the flower, chain-stitch is sometimes introduced, and which is thus performed: Having secured the cotton, one thread of the net is taken up, and the cotton being held down by the left thumb, the first stitch is taken, as in button-hole work, leaving a loop, through which the needle is passed, to form a second stitch or loop, and so on, after the manner of a chain ; until, having arrived at the extremity of a leaf or flower, the cotton is turned round and worked back, until the whole space is covered (Fig. 16.) An agree- able variety may be introduced among the flowers, by filling up their centres in a stitch formed by sewing over two threads across the space; then leaving one row of threads, and taking up the next two, until the interior is completely occupied. This kind of stitch may be varied by crossing it with the same stitch. Small clusters of spots, on net, are very pretty: each spot EMBROIDERY. 311 is formed by passing the needle backwards and forwards through one mesh, and, alternately, over and under two of the threads, n forming that mesh , which are opposite to each other (Fig. 17, a.) Sprigs, or branches, formed by eyelet holes, either singly along a stem, or in clusters of three, afford a pleasing variation (Fig. 17,6.) The eyelet holes are worked in button -hole stitch ; one mesh of the net being left open for the centre. Book-muslin is sometimes worked into net, by placing it under the net, and both over a paper pattern; the outline, is then run round: the running is either sewn over, or worked in button-hole stitch, and the external edge of the muslin cut off. This mode is not confined to small patterns, as the cambric or net which is intended to resemble Brussels point-lace. GOLD-THREAD EMBROIDERY. This, in splendour and richness, far exceeds every other species of Embroidery, and is principally used in court dresses, and for the ball-room. It is practised on crape, India muslin, or silk; and, principally, in large and bold designs. The gold thread should be fine ; and it may be worked with nearly the same facility as any other thread. Where the material is sufficiently transparent, a paper pattern is placed underneath; the outline is run in white thread; and the subject is then worked with gold thread, in satin-stitch. For a thin stalk to a flower, the running-thread should be omitted, and gold thread laid on the material, and sewn slightly over with another gold thread ; thus giving the stalk a very pretty spiral appearance. In embroidering a thick material, the design is to be sketched with a black-lead pencil, if the ground be light; or with a white chalk pencil, if dark. The pattern is fre- quently varied by the introduction of short pieces of fine gold bullion; sometimes two or three of them coming out of the cup of a flower; the stitch passes lengthwise through the twist of the bullion, thus confining it flat. The centre of a flower may be also finished with bullion: in that case, the stitch taken should be shorter than the piece of bullion ; the under-side of which will, therefore, be compressed, and the upper-side expanded, so as to give it a little prominence. Gold spangles may be occasionally introduced ; and they should be secured by bringing the thread from beneath, passing it through 312 EMBROIDERY. the spangle, then through a very short bit of bullion, and back through the hole in the centre of the spangle : this is better than sewing the spangle on with a thread across its face. Gold-thread flowers on tulle form a beautiful Embroidery, and are worked in the same way as the thread net represented in Fig. 15. This material may also be worked in gold-thread satin- stitch, or at the tambour. The whole of this kind of Embroidery is also worked in silver thread. There is a beautiful variety produced by the introduction of flos silk, worked in satin-stitch, in any one colour that will har- monize with the gold or silver thread. The effect of green flos with gold thread, is particularly good, when tastefully arranged: as, for the lower part of a dress, in the combination of a wreath of the shamrock in green flos silk, entwined with roses, or other flowers, in gold or silver thread. THE ESCRUTOIRE. For careless scrawls ye boant of no pretence ; Fair Russell wrote, as well as spoke, with sense.. ARIOUS are the occasions on which ladies are called upon to exercise their skill in the art of epistolary composition: this, generally speak- ing, is the only style of writing of which they will find it inconvenient to be ignorant. Few persons are ever obliged to produce a treatise, or a poem ; but there is scarcely any one who is not occasionally compelled, by the circumstances of life, to write a letter. It is the remark of a very celebrated author, that the epistolary style deserves to be cultivated almost more than any other, since none is of more various or frequent use through the whole subordination of human life. Another writer on this subject, very justly observes, that among the various parts of learning, in which young persons are initiated, there are some, which, though they amuse the imagination, and furnish the mind with employment in solitude and leisure, yet are found to be of little actual utility in the common intercourse of life; but the ability of writing letters clearly, and to the purpose, finds an opportunity of frequent exertion and display in every department of business, in every profession and employment, and in all the endearing offices of social relation. Most authors, who have occu- pied themselves with this subject, admit the difficulty, or, rather, 314 THE ESCRUTOIRE. the impossibility, of reducing it to any fixed rules ; as letters are written on all subjects, and in almost every situation in which " the tide of events" can carry individuals. The general rules which govern other styles of composition, are, for the most part, applicable to letter-writing: ease an 1 simplicity, an even flow ol unlaboured diction, and an artless arrangement of obvious senti- ments, have been pronounced to be the qualities most frequently required ; but it has also been stated, that a letter, having no peculiarity but its form, nothing is to be refused admission to it which would be proper in any other mode of treating the same subject. This observation requires to be qualified; at least, as to the manner of using what is admitted. Brevity is often an object of the greatest importance in the epistolary style ; and that which it may be proper to elaborate in other modes of treating a subject, it is necessary to condense in a letter: the same arguments and expressions, also, which would be proper in a statement, or ap- peal to the public, might be indecorous if addressed to an indi vidual. Although it may not be in her power to offer a complete serier of rules for epistolary correspondence, the writer of this article ventures to hope, that she may be enabled, in the course of the following pages, to make some observations, which will be founc of considerable benefit ; at least to the younger and more inex- perienced portion of her readers. A correspondence between two persons, is simply a conver- sation reduced to writing; in which one party says all that she has to communicate, replies to preceding inquiries, and, in her turn, proposes questions, without interruption by the other ; who takes precisely the same course in her answer. We should write to an absent person, as we would speak to the same party if present. To a superior we ought to be respectful; to a parent, dutiful and affectionate; to a friend, frank and easy; and clear and definite in our expressions to all. Ambiguity, in epistolary correspondence, is a fault which ought, most scrupulously, to be avoided ; a word placed in an improper part of a sentence, a phrase that has a double signification, a passage so blotted, or ill-written, as to be unintelligible, a careless mode of sealing, by which a portion of the manuscript is broken, or concealed, will often render it necessary for the party receiving the letter to write, and she who is guilty of the fault, to reply to another epistle requiring the necessary explanation. The delay thus occasioned is often of serious importance: besides, the person addressed THE ESCRUTOIRE. 315 may conceive that she has caught the import of the doubtful pas- sage, when the contrary may be the fact; and thus the writer, much to her own detriment, may be misunderstood on a most critical point: in fact, to be ambiguous, or unintelligible, is to be wanting in duty to ourselves, and in respect to those whom we address. Conciseness is one of the charms of letter-writing: we do not mean to say that a letter should not contain sufficient facts, ideas, and feelings; but they ought to be as briefly expressed as per- spicuity and elegance will permit. If we incumber an idea with verbiage, it loses its power. There are some persons who, when they express a feeling, or a thought, of which simplicity should be the charm, clothe it with all the verbal treasures they possess : this is like wearing one's whole wardrobe at once; the figure is lost in a mass of drapery. Lengthened periods are as much out of place in a letter as they would be in conversation, of which letters may be called the prototype; for they tire the reader even more than they would the hearer: when written, their faults are also perceived with much less difficulty than when spoken. Our style, of course, may rise with our subject: but all parade of words should be dropped in a familiar epistle. The death of a friend or relation, a calamity, or any circumstance of grave im- portance, should not be communicated in the same manner as a trifling occurrence, or even a happy event: brevity, in these cases, is beauty; in those it would be deemed unfeeling and abrupt. " You ask me to send you news of your favourite schoolfellow, Harriet : she is married." This mode of communicating such an event is unexceptionable: but it would be most improper to state the young lady's death in the same manner; that is, by merely substituting "dead" for "married." But in aiming at the acquirement of an elegant and easy brevity, it is incumbent on us at once to avoid falling into a rugged, or an enigmatical style, and becoming so concise as to be unintelligible. Boileau, echoing Horace, says, "J'evite d'e'tre long, et je deviens obscur." This is a fault which must be avoided; it is even better to be prolix and intelligible, than brief and obscure. To an absent friend, an elaborate letter will be most welcome : a stranger, a superior, or a person of whom the writer seeks some- thing, will recoil from a "folio of four pages," and, perhaps, throw it aside unread, or, at best, but slightly skimmed over. When the party, to whom a letter is addressed, is uninterested in the subject on which it is written, the writer of it should display a 27 316 THE ESCRUTOIRE. brevity, which will attract attention, and insure a perusai: no unnecessary ornament should be used, nor, in fact, anything in- troduced but what is important and bears strongly on the case stated, or the inquiry made. All those little personal details and trifling circumstance*, which are so delightful in a letter from a friend, would fatigue and disgust a stranger, or a superior, to whom they are destitute of interest. Display is a fault of great weight; ease is the grace of letter- writing: far-fetched words, and studied phrases, are by no means to be accepted as legitimate ornaments in the epistolary style. A passage which is at once brilliant and brief, enriches a letter; but it must be artless, and appear to flow without effort from the writer's pen, to arise naturally from the subject, or the preced- ing passages, and not seem to have cost any labour in its production ; or to be placed in the position it occupies, simply because it is beautiful, and not on account of its relation to its fellow-phrases. There are some persons who have their pet expressions, which they display as they would their diamonds at dress-parties, on all great occasions: these expressions would be good, if iliey were in their proper places; but, on account of their mis-application, they appear forced and unnatural. It is, however, by no means in- tended, that these observations should be understood by the reader as warning her to reject those ornaments and graces of language, which embellish other styles of writing, when the occasion calls for their aid. Dr. Johnson observes, that " it is natural to depart from familiarity of language upon occasions not familiar. Whatever elevates the sentiments, will, consequently, raise the expression; whatever fills us with hope, or terror, will produce perturbation of images, and some figurative distortions of phrase. Whenever we are studious to please, we are afraid of trusting our first thoughts, and endeavour to recommend our opinion by studied ornaments, accuracy of method, and elegance of style. If the personages of the comic scene be allowed by Horace to raise their language, in the transports of anger, to the turgid vehemence of tragedy, the epistolary writer may, likewise, without censure, comply with the varieties of his matter. If great events are to be related, he may, with all the solemnity of an historian, deduce them from their causes, connect them with their concomitants, and trace them to their consequences. If a disputed position is to be established, or a remote principle to be investigated, he may detail his reasonings with all the nicety of syllogistic method. If a measure is to be averted, or a benefit implored, he may, without any violation of THE ESCRUTOIRE. 317 the edicts of criticism, call every power of rhetoric to his assistance, and try every inlet at which love or pity enters the heart." But, before the letter-writer follows this advice, it is necessary to ascer- tain the extent of his powers. Without talents to support us in a splendid flight, it is better to pursue an even course; without judgment to select, and taste to apply ornaments, it is wise to be contented with simplicity; lest, in this case, in aiming to be brilliant, we become gaudy and ridiculous ; or in that, while striving to astonish, we become contemptible, and " rise like the rocket, only to fall like the stick." We should never suffer ourselves to be seduced to adopt a fine-sounding epithet, unless we are perfectly well acquainted with its meaning ; or to indulge in a simile, unless we are capable of wielding it with ease. It is dangerous to meddle with fine phrases, if we are unaccustomed to the manner of using them. A person who, by invariably keeping within the beaten path, and never running astray after " the butterflies of language," had been accounted, by his correspondents, a plain, sensible sort of man, destroyed his reputation by a congratulatory epistle on a friend's marriage, written in a style which he, doubtless, con- sidered of great elevation and beauty: it was, on the contrary, in the true " Cambyses* vein." No one had ever suspected him to be a blockhead before; but the letter in question was evidence enough to convict him, even in the opinions of his most partial friends. Perhaps it is the only one of his epistles that has ever been preserved, with the exception of such as have been kept as documents in matters of business. In all epistolary correspondence, the choice of embellishments, the language, subject, matter and manner in general, should, as in conversation, be governed by the relative situations in life, as to age, rank, character, &c. of the parties addressed and addressing. A lady neither writes nor speaks to a gentleman as she would to one of her own sex. The language of a mother to a daughter, is very different from that of a daughter to her mother. In our first letter to a person, as on our first introduction, we should be respectful, and by no means familiar. The distance which either age, rank, sex, or any other circumstance, occasions, ought always to be remembered. We should never forget what we are, and what the person is whom we address. We should say only precisely what ought to be said, to write, in fact, with the same restrictions as we would speak, to suppose the party present whom we address; and to bear in mind, that our letters are, in every respect, representatives of our own persons, that they may 318 THE ESCRUTOIRE. be said to speak for us; and that an estimate of our character and manners is frequently formed from the style and language of our epistles. How frequently do we hear persons exclaiming, that they do not know what to write about! Such an observation is a dis- grace to ;he person who makes it. Were the mother, the sister, the cousin, friend, or even acquaintance, to enter the room in which you are sitting at an escrutoire, with a blank sheet of paper before you, would you have nothing to say 1 Would you have nothing to communicate'? Nothing to inquire! No hitherto-un- answered question to reply to? There is but little doubt that a host of facts, feelings, questions, and answers, would crowd to your lips for utterance. But it will, perhaps, be observed by some, that " there is such a difference between talking and writ- ing:" truly so; the great difference is, thai in this, the pen, in that, the tongue, is the agent of expression. Whatever we should say to a person present, we may write if absent. There is, of course, a choice of subjects to be made, and a proper mode to be chosen of communicating them. To regulate that choice, we should select as though the friend, to whom we are writing, were by our side, and could remain with us but a short time. In that case we should speak only of those things which were of the greatest importance, and express them at once as clearly and con- cisely as possible; and pleasantly, didactically, modestly, feel- ingly, or otherwise, according to their nature and the party whom we address. The writer should always bear in mind, that " nothing can be more improper than ease and laxity of expression when the importance of the subject impresses solicitude, or the dignity of the person exacts reverence." Politeness, and the forms of society, frequently require us to write letters of compliment, inquiry, or condolence, to those with whom we are upon the slightest possible terms of intimacy. Such letters, which are generally supposed to be the most difficult, are, in fact, the most easy of execution; for the circumstance which calls for the letter, affords us a subject: to this the letter must be restricted. It is true, that there is a graceful manner of framing an inquiry, and making a compliment, and this manner it is in vain to seek for, by labour, at the moment the letter is required; if it be difficult to compose, it will seem studied, heartless, and in- elegant in expression. Simplicity and ease impart the chief grace that can be given to a condoling or complimentary note. A letter of congratulation should be as the thornless rose: THE ESCRUTOIRE. 319 the least appearance of envy, or jealousy, at the good fortune of those whom we felicitate, is unpardonable; it should contain no hint of any hope that the advancement, or change of situation, upon which the compliment is made, may afford the person ad- dressed the means of conferring a benefit on the party writing. It should, in fact, be an unmixed expression of pleasure and con- gratulation on the event that calls for its production. Care must, nevertheless, be taken to keep within due bounds: to exaggerate in our congratulations, is to become keenly satirical. To repeat what has before been said, the style must always correspond with the occasion. In a letter of congratulation we should be cheerful; from an epistle of condolence all pleasantry should be banished: to exhibit the wit which we possess, at such a time, is like smiling at a funeral, to display a beautiful set of teeth. When addressing a person who is labouring under anv grievous calamity, it is bad taste to make light of it; by treating that loss as a matter which a little firmness would enable the party who has suffered it to endure calmly, we irritate, rather than soothe. It is better to enter into the feelings of the mourner, to eulogize die departed relation, to rebuke the ingratitude of die false friend, to confess the inconstancy of fortune, or other- wise, according to die circumstances; and, without magnifying, to lament die full extent of the condoled party's affliction: thus we seem to share, and, therefore, in some degree, lessen the Borrow of the sufferer. A celebrated lady, in a letter of condolence to a friend, uses this language: " The more I think on the loss you have just met with, the greater it appears, and the more it affects me. He was, indeed, worthy of being the head of such a family as yours, and can never be replaced ! We have every reason to believe that he is happy: we should weep for ourselves, therefore, rather than for him. My heart grieves for your situation : it will be long ere you can console yourself for. such a separation. If I were mistress of my own actions, I would certainly abandon everything to be near you." This language is balm to the wounded mind, which rejects consolation from those who do not seem sensible of die extent of the sorrow under which it labours. Such a subject must, nevertheless, be treated with a delicate hand; for, by ex- aggeration, we should aggravate rather than console ; and a mere string of bitter reflections, without any concluding ray of hope being held out ; or the least hint that die calamity has been occa- sioned by the neglect, or imprudence, of the party suffering under its visitation, is like striking die stricken deer. 27* 320 THE ESCRUTOIRE. Letters of inquiry, as their subjects are generally brief, will bear a little verbiage. To be too concise in our inquiries, as to the indisposition of an acquaintance, manifests a carelessness, which may be turned to our disadvantage: but a mere billet of complimentary inquiries should not be lengthened into a formid- able epistle; it then becomes absurd. In an application to a superior in rank, or age, for a favour, neither gaiety nor fami- liarity is tolerated. A request may be made to an equal, and an acquaintance, with smiles; Friendship commands, even when she asks: a friend may, therefore, when soliciting, be pleasant without impeachment. Brunei wrote thus to his friend Fontenelle: " You have a thousand crowns, send them to me." To this request Fontenelle replied, as follows: "When I received your letter, I was about placing out my thousand crowns: I shall not easily find so good an opportunity again, Voyez done." Brunei's rejoinder was only " Send me your thousand crowns," and Fon- tenelle sent them. The forms of complimentary letters of thanks, for inquiries, &c. are extremely simple ; being little more than an echo of the in- quiries, with the writer's acknowledgements for the civility of the inquirer. In letters of thanks for real favours conferred, the language ought to be simple and strong: it should appear to be dictated by the heart: the principal subject must, of course, be the writer's gratitude. The extent of the obligation should neither be magnified nor treated as less than it really is. To hint that the favour conferred shall be returned, or to express a wish that an occasion may offer, for the party benefited, to oblige her bene- factress, is exceedingly indelicate ; and conveys an idea, that the writer feels the favour to be nothing more than a loan, which is to be repaid the first opportunity: although such be the feeling, it is not fit that it should be expressed. If we confer a favour, and announce the fact to the party whom we have obliged, it is necessary to avoid any expressions that may tend to wound the feelings: it is possible to grant a favour in such a manner as to offend, rather than to delight; to create disgust, rather than gratitude. The language of a letter, which states that the writer has performed an important service, on behalf of the individual to whom it is addressed, should be simple, and void of ostentation. " He that, like Pliny, sends his friend a portion for his daughter, will, without Pliny's eloquence or address, find means of exciting gratitude, and securing accept- ance ; but he that has no present to make but a garland or riband, THE ESCRUTOIRE. 321 or some petty curiosity, must endeavour to recommend it by his manner of giving it." A letter of recommendation is a letter of business, and should be composed with care : it is a guarantee, to the extent of its language, for the party recommended ; truth, therefore, should never be sacrificed to condescension, false kindness, or politeness. To write a letter of recommendation contrary to one's own opinion and knowledge of the person recommended, is to be guilty of a great imprudence. To say all that is necessary, in a clear and distinct manner, and nothing more, is the grand merit of a letter on business. Pleasantry and pathos would be greatly misplaced in it, unless it be of a mixed nature ; that is, necessarily, or properly, embracing some other subject. Brilliant diction is a dress in which directions on business should never be clothed. The style ought to be pre- cise, sufficiently copious, but not redundant. Everything necessary should be stated, plainly and unequivocally; so that the party addressed may be in full possession of our desires and opinions, on the subject of our correspondence. Ambiguity is nowhere so unpardonable as in a letter on business. It is a maxim with the discreet, never to give advice until they have been thrice asked for it : in many instances, to volunteer it, is to be offensive to those whom you wish to benefit : it is much more pleasant to give than to receive it. Unsolicited counsel is a bitter draught ; and even those who crave your opinions, will feel themselves offended if you be forward, as well as frank, in reply- ing to them. A mendicant implored alms ; the party whom the unfortunate man addressed, instead of relieving his necessities, told him, " that he was strong and youthful, and should rather work, than live by begging." "I asked you for money," replied the mendicant, "not for advice." People, in general, are but too prone to take the same course : they are applied to for succour, and, in return, they give counsel. A friend should, perhaps, give advice to a friend, if he should see occasion so to do, how- ever unpalatable it may be ; but, in general, we cannot be too sparing of our counsel. It is a foolish, but not an uncommon practice, to ask advice on an act which has been performed : in such a case it is useless, in reply, to adopt such terms as " If I had the direction of the affair I would have acted otherwise;" or, "I would rather you had done so and so," &c. If you cannot approve what is irre- vocable, be silent upon the subject. If, however, you should be, 322 THE ESCRUTOIRE. in some measure, compelled to give another your counsel, be pro- digal of conciliatory, and sparing of positive, phrases. " With deference to your own judgment, it seems to me ; " "I may be mistaken ; you are, doubtless, the best qualified to judge : I, therefore, merely submit," &c. and similar expressions, will save you from being offensive, ami, at the same time, afford you a graceful manner of expressing the opinions which your conscience dictates on the occasion. It is sometimes necessary to write letters of excuse : in such a case, the party must not forget that almost as much depends on the time as the manner of making an excuse : it may be too late to be effective ; or so mis-timed, as to aggravate the previous offence. A mischievous page concealed himself behind the arras of the court of justice, at Versailles, and fastened the wig of the president to the tapestry, so dexterously, that the latter was to- tally unconscious of the trick. On the king's entrance, the presi- dent rose suddenly, leaving his wig attached to the arras. In die evening, the king discovered the author of the trick ; and though lie could not help smiling at the recollection of it, he com- manded the page to crave pardon of the venerable president. The wag mounted his horse in the middle of the night; rode to the president's hotel; announced himself as a messenger from the king; awoke the president; presented his most humble respects, and begged to be excused for the trick he had played behind the arras, in the morning. The president very properly observed, that the apology was worse than the offence. What this page did maliciously, other persons often do inadvertently : they crave forgiveness at improper seasons ; the excuse which would be freely accepted to-day, might be indignantly rejected a month hence. A slight notice of the fact, an explanation that will extenuate the offence, an assurance of the total absence of any intention to wound the feelings, regret for the circumstance, professions of attachment, and an expression of earnest desire to recover the good opinion of the person offended, are the elements of a letter of excuse, modified according to the fact, time, and persons interested. It is sometimes necessary to make excuses for offences not yet noticed; such as delay in reply to a letter, or in executing a commission : in these cases they generally commence letters on other subjects. A reason should be given for the delay ; or the neglect candidly confessed, and indulgence solicited. If the apology appear forced, or made unwillingly, it cannot be effective. Frankness, in all ordinary cases, will ensure forgiveness. THE ESCRUTOIRE. 323 It is wrong to imagine, that in a familiar or playful corres- pondence, or letters of intelligence, the slip-shod muse is to be paramount. False grammar, in good society, is not tolerated, even enfamille, neither can it be in a letter. In the most familiar epistle, we should recollect what we owe to our language, to our correspondent, and to ourselves. We ought not to write anything of which we may hereafter feel ashamed. Well-written letters are as often burnt, or destroyed, as slovenly epistles are, by acci- dent or design, preserved, to rise up in judgment against us here- after. Reason should govern us in writing to those persons whom we address with the greatest freedom. For the benefit of the young and very lively, it may, perhaps, be well to observe, that even in the most familiar letters, pertness and flippancy are, to persons of good sense, neither agreeable nor amusing. In a letter of intelligence, whenever the nature of the news communicated will permit, cull with taste, and relate without preamble. State nothing but what is true; avoid mere scandal; and reject whatever is merely dubious, or, at least, state it to be so. If you have, by mistake, communicated any false intelligence, be the first to correct it : it is graceful to retrace one's steps, when led astray. Select such facts as you know will be most interesting to your correspondent, and relate them, if of a pleasant nature, gaily, but without malice ; if serious, adopt a style suitable to the circumstances. It is clear, that in familiar, as well as in every other depart- ment of epistolary correspondence, some writers will exhibit more talent than others. We cannot all expect to merit the compliment which De la Harpe paid to the Marquise de Sevigne. Speaking of a collection of the letters of this lady (of whom it has been said, that she is, in her style, what La Fontaine is in his,) La Harpe uses these expressions: " What book can be more precious to us than that which amuses, interests, and instructs us, without de- manding any attention on our parti She always feels what she relates : she paints as a spectator, and we fancy we see the pictures she draws." France has produced several other very celebrated letter-writers, besides Sevigne. Dr. Johnson, however, appears to have thought very lightly of their merits. He observes, that " a slight perusal of the innumerable letters, by which the wits of France have signalized their names, will prove, that other nations need not be discouraged from the like attempts by the consciousness of inability. For (thus the critic proceeds,) surely, it is not very difficult to 324 THE ESCRUTOIRE. aggravate trifling misfortunes, to magnify familiar incidents, repeat adulatory professions, accumulate servile hyperboles, and produce all that can be found in the despicable remains of Voiture and Scarron." Although the learned critic may, in the opinion of many persons, be rather too severe in this passage, it appears tolerably clear, that the best models of the epistolary style, are not, as some writers would have us believe, to be found among the French. However celebrated Montesquieu, Balzac, Voiture, De Stael, D'Aisse, and others of that nation, may have been, their epistolary productions cannot surely be deemed of greater beauty (to say nothing of those of Cicero and Pliny) than the letters of such distinguished writers of our own country, as Anne Boleyn, Lady Russell, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, Howell, Pope, Wycherley, Bishop Hoadley, &c. Two letters, which have acquired more celebrity than any others that have ever been written by women of our nation, are the epistle of Anne Boleyn to Henry the Eighth, shortly before her execution, and that of Lady Russell to Charles the Second, a few days after her husband was beheaded. It is a matter of surprise, that any person who has received a tolerable education, and is at all versed in the forms adopted in good society, should fall into so gross an error, as to use the first person at the conclusion of a note which has been commenced in the third; and yet this is sometimes the case. For example: " Miss Walters presents her compliments to Mr. Travers, and begs to be informed at what hour Mr. Travers intends to start for Bath to-morrow, as I particularly wish to see him before his departure ; and remain, sir, yours sincerely," &c. Such negligence and in- elegance are so obvious, that they may be easily avoided. Notes written in the third person, are frequently rendered ambiguous, and sometimes quite unintelligible, by a confusion of the personal pronouns ; which, unless the sentences be carefully constructed, seem to apply equally well to the writer as to the receiver. There is a French anecdote related, of rather a ludicrous mistake arising from the ambiguity of a letter written, by one friend to another, in the third person. Monsieur A. addressed Monsieur B. who dwelt at some distance from the town where Monsieur A. resided, in these terms, " Monsieur A. presents his compliments to his friend, Monsieur B. and has the satisfaction of informing him, that he has just been appointed, by Government, to the lucrative and honourable post of, &c. [naming the office] in his THE ESCRUTOIRE. 325 native town." On receipt of this letter, B. posted, with all possible speed, to throw himself at the feet of A. and, with the warmest ex- pressions of gratitude, thanked his supposed benefactor. A. was amazed, and earnestly inquired the cause of B.'s raptures. " How!" exclaimed B. " Have I not sufficient reason to be grateful 1 Have you not obtained for me the important post of so and sol" -" Not at all, my dear friend," replied A. " it is I who have been appointed to the office ; and I wrote to acquaint you of the cir- cumstance, thinking you would be happy to hear of your old companion's excellent fortune." B. perused the note again, and discovered that, like one of the ancient oracles, it contained two meanings which were directly opposite to each other. Notes written in the third person, are frequently used, on ordinary occasions, between equals in age or rank, to make a reply to any request; to convey civil inquiries, or compliments, &c. For these, and similar purposes, this form is elegant and unex- ceptionable. It is, also, generally adopted by superiors, when addressing inferiors on subjects of little importance; but it is improper when an inferior addresses a superior, or when the subject is serious or important. It is also too cold, distant, and reserved, for epistolary correspondence between near relations or friends. If an individual be addressed by her equal, whether upon terms of intimacy, or otherwise, in the third person, it is usual to reply in the same form ; but if, in answer to a letter which is commenced and concluded with the endearing epithets used by parties who entertain a friendship for each other; or the respectful terms and expressions of regard, sanctioned by custom, between acquaintance, or personal strangers, the third person be adopted, it is equal, in the strongest cases, to an insult ; in others, it is accepted as a hint, that the writer is offended, or wishes to close the correspondence; and, under other circumstances, it amounts to a slight degree of incivility. A parade of formal and respectful phrases, in a reply to a letter, in which familiar or affectionate terms are used, is tantamount to a very strong in- timation, that the writer declines, or is averse from, being so addressed. D'Alembert said of a certain individual, " He attempts to be familiar; but I repulse him with respect." Every letter, that is not insulting, merits a reply, if it be re- quired, or necessary. All the preceding observations, with regard to rank, age, &c. are, of course, applicable to replies. If the letter contained a request, accede to it gracefully, and without ostentation, or refuse without harshness. An answer to a letter of 326 THE ESCRUTOIRE. condolence, or congratulation, should be grateful. The subjects should succeed each other in proper order; and the questions put, be consecutively answered. In familiar correspondence, a greater latitude of arrangement is allowed; but even in this, no question should be left unanswered. In all replies, it is usual to acknow- ledge the receipt, and to mention the date, of the last letter received: this should be an invariable rule; by neglecting it, your correspondent may be left in doubt; or very properly deem you guilty of offensive inattention. In answers to letters of business, the substance of the com- munication, to which the writer is about to reply, is generally stated. It is advisable to adopt a similar mode Avith regard to any correspondence of importance: thus, with proper care and atten- tion to other particulars, you will guard against any possibility of your expressions being mistaken, or misrepresented; or your answers applied, or conceived to apply, to other questions than those for which you intend them. The manner of doing this is usually as follows: "In reply to your letter, dated, &c. in which you state that, &c. [briefly setting forth the principal points which you are about to answer,] I beg to say, &c." This practice will give a formal air to a familiar epistle, if strictly pursued; but some attention should be paid to it in all epistolary correspondence, as it insures clearness, which is one of the greatest beauties, as obscurity is the chief defect, of letter-writing. That the party whom you address is at a distance, and, therefore, incapable of getting any passage, which is not sufficiently explicit, made clear by a question, should ever be borne in mind. It is painful to hear a person, when reading a letter from an absent friend, exclaim, occasionally, " I suppose she alludes here to her sister;" "I wonder whether she means last Monday, or the Monday preced- ing," &c. For want of a little care and precision, passages, by which a great deal of information is intended to be conveyed, are a series of mortifying enigmas to the party to whom they are addressed. It is a bad practice to suffer letters to remain long unanswered: irregularity, in this particular, is a mark of the greatest disrespect to a correspondent; it is a fault which ought to be sturdily attacked and overcome. "There is, in many people," says an eminent lady, " particularly in youth, a strange aversion to regularity; a desire to delay what ought to be done immediately, in order to do something else, which might as well be done afterwards. Be assured, it is of more consequence to you than you can conceive, THE ESCRUTOIRE. 327 to get the better of this idle, procrastinating spirit, and to acquire habits of constancy and steadiness, even in the most trifling matters ; without them there can be no regularity or constancy of action or character; no dependence on your best intentions, which a sudden humour may tempt you to lay aside for a time, and which a thousand unforeseen accidents will afterwards render it more and more difficult to execute: no one can say what important conse- quences may follow a trivial neglect of this kind. For example: I have known one of these procrastinators disoblige, and gra- dually lose, very valuable friends, by delaying to write to them so long, that having no good excuse to offer, she could not get courage enough to write at all ; and dropped their correspondence entirely." It is almost needless to say, that in epistolary, as well as in every other style of composition, the rules of grammar should be strictly observed As to orthography, it will be sufficient, perhaps, to repeat what has been said on the subject by more than one talented writer: among persons moving in good society, and who may be supposed to have received a tolerable education, although to spell correctly be no merit, to spell incorrectly is a great dis- grace. A parenthesis is objectionable, if it break the sense and distort the sentence. It is rare that the subject of a parenthesis may not be better contained in a previous or following paragraph, or an elongation of the sentence, than thrown abruptly into the body of it. As a proof of the obscurity in sense, which may be produced by an injudicious use of the parenthesis, we quote the following lines from a translation of a celebrated Latin author's epistles : " But Heaven, indulgent to my chaste desire, Has wrapped (my husband safe) proud Troy in fire:" In the same work we also find a passage, where two or three sentences, containing facts of importance, are all parenthetically packed into a third, so awkwardly, as to puzzle a good reader how to convey, by emphasis, pauses, intonation, or otherwise, the meaning of the author : " Sunk now is Troy, the curse of Grecian damesj (Her king, her all a worthless prize !) in flames. 0, had by storms (his fleet to Sparta bound) The Trojan perish'd in the mad profound ! " Comparisons are sometimes very felicitous ; but they must be made with care; their merit consists in the unity of their terms; 28 328 THE ESCRUTOIRE. if they do not agree perfectly with each other, the comparison, instead of being powerful, becomes ridiculous. A metaphor may also be used with advantage, if it occur naturally; and an anecdote may be as happily applied in a letter as in familiar conversation. Allusions are elegant, when introduced with ease and they are well understood by those to whom tlu-y an- addressed. An allusion may be made to some pictorial, poetical, or mythological relation; to an anecdote of society; to an adventure of some well-known hero of romance; or, indeed, to any subject of notoriety. The antithesis renders a passage piquant; but those who use it too frequently are apt to become enigmatical. Proverbs, and jeux-de- mots are inelegant; if the latter be admitted, it must be sparingly. Occasional jeux-de-mots, in a lively letter, if they be ingenious, and, at the same time, produced apparently without effort, season the style; but if they occur frequently, or are only mediocre, they tend to debase it. Such as tell exceedingly well in society, make but poor figures when reduced to writing. If, in epistolary corres- pondence, a writer permit herself to play upon words, she must do so ingeniously, or her reader will laugh at her, instead of at her point. When occupied on a serious subject, such a practice is most reprehensible; it is tolerated only when addressing an equal and an acquaintance: to a stranger, or a superior, it would be insulting; to an inferior, too familiar. Some very high authorities reprehend the use of this small artillery of wit, if it may be dig- nified with such a title, either in conversation, or otherwise, as being in bad taste; generally speaking, therefore, we may venture to say, that it ought not be admitted into letter-writing. The usual contractions in the English language, are permitted in letters between friends, relations, and equals. They are un- objectionable, also, in letters on business; but held disrespectful, even by those who are not exceedingly rigid, when used by an inferior addressing a superior. All arbitrary contractions, in every case, are in bad taste; nothing can be more inelegant than to press a multitude of abbreviations, which are not made current, and, consequently, familiar by custom, into any letter; those, on the contrary, which are generally sanctioned, the letter-writer is at full liberty to adopt, in all such epistolary correspondence as admits of a freedom of style ; and there are some few even which it would be unwise to reject in communications to a superior. Punctuation is a matter of the utmost importance in every species of literary composition : it has been properly termed, the very marshalling and arranging of the words of a language; THE ESCRUTOIRE. 329 without it, there can be no clearness, strength or accuracy. Its utility consists in separating the different portions of what is written, in such a manner, that the subjects may be properly classed and subdivided, so as to convey the precise meaning of the writer to the reader; to show the relation which the various parts bear to each other; to unite such as ought to be connected, and keep apart such as have no mutual dependance. It is a circum- stance very much to be lamented, that so little attention is paid to punctuation. A late writer on this subject, very truly states, that manuscripts in general are so notoriously defective, that not a little of the obscurity resulting, in many instances, from anything written, is to be attributed to the perfect confusion that exists in the disposition of the words. Many persons never make use of any stops at all ; thus leaving the task of discovering where their sentences begin and end to the ingenuity of their correspondents: others use only the full-point; thus huddling the minor, and frequently important, divisions of a period, one upon another, in most perplexing disorder : a third class of writers press all the points into their service ; but place them in such improper posi- tions, that they produce that identical sort of confusion which they are intended to prevent. The same words, by means of different modes of punctuation, may be made to express two meanings exactly opposite to each other; an ambiguous passage may fre- quently be rendered clear by a comma; and the sense of an unintelligible sentence be made manifest by the simple remedy of a couple of colons, judiciously applied. The object of writing is, most certainly, to express the meaning of the writer to the reader; punctuation was invented for the purpose of giving to written language a precision and certainty which words alone could not convey; we should, therefore, endeavour, not only to write cor- rectly, but to point what we write with some degree of precision. It should be remembered, that points are the substitutes of, or, rather, the only means we possess of conveying by writing, the various pauses, intonations, emphases, &c. which we adopt in discourse: without their aid, we may become ludicrous, where we intend to be impressive; exclamatory, where it is our intention to inquire ; and subject to being misunderstood in every line which we commit to paper. Were many letters to be read aloud, pre- cisely as they are written, they would sound like a mere " farrago of nonsense:" and could their writers hear them so read, they would, in all probability, be induced to apply themselves to the study of a proper mode of punctuation : but, unfortunately for 330 THE ESCRUTOIRE. themselves, in this respect, writers very seldom hear their own letters read; and they, very foolishly, fancy that everybody " with a grain of sense," will, instinctively, read their compositions, with the intonations, emphasis, and tone, they, themselves, desire. The contrary is almost invariably the case. It is impossible for us, on every occasion, to convey our precise meaning by means of written language; but we may advance far towards it, by judi- ciously pointing our periods. As there is no positive system of punctuation to direct the writer, the modern editions of good authors should be carefully studied, in order to acquire the leading principles of die science. The construction of sentences may be examined, and the mode adopted of dividing them, attended to with considerable advantage. It is a good plan, for improvement in pointing, to copy a page of some standard work, without capitals or points ; and, after it has been laid aside for a few days, to endeavour to write it again with the proper points; by a subse- quent comparison with the original, the writer may discover her errors, and guard against similar blunders in her future exercises. It is not to be expected that she will attain, by these, or any other means, the power of pointing a page, in complete accordance with a printed work; but she will, no doubt, acquire a degree of know- ledge and experience in punctuation, which cannot fail to be of considerable utility to her in her future epistolary productions. In order to show the necessity of not merely using points, but punctuating properly, the following passage from a work on this subject, in which it is given as a study, but without any key, is submitted to the reader: " The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller a clergyman his son a lawyer Mr. Angelo a foreigner his lady and a little child." As this passage stands, without points, H is unintelligible: by different modes of punctuating it, several alterations may be made in its sense ; not only as to the number of persons in the coach, but, also, as to their country, professions, and relationship to each other. By a change of points, the lady may be described as the husband of either one of two persons: Mr. Miller's son may be made a clergyman, or a lawyer, at will ; or his son may be taken from him and given to a clergyman, whose name is not mentioned. We shall give three or four different modes of punctuating this passage. The reader may, if she think fit, amuse, and, at the same time, convince herself of the propriety of attending to the proper use of stops, by a number of variations; each of them THE ESCRUTOIRE. 331 correct in itself, and, at the same time, endowing the words with a different signification: " The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller, a clergyman, his son, a lawyer, Mr. Angelo, a foreigner, his lady, and a little child." By this mode of pointing, it would appear that there were eight individuals in the coach: namely, a clergyman, a lawyer, a foreigner and his lady, a little child, Mr. Miller, Mr. Angelo, and the clergyman's son. " The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller, a clergyman; his son, a lawyer; Mr. Angelo, a foreigner; his lady; and a little child." This change in the punctuation would reduce the parties in the coach, exclusive of the lady and child, to three persons ; and make Mr. Miller himself a clergyman, Mr. Miller's son a lawyer, and Mr. Angelo a foreigner. " The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller; a clergyman, his son; a lawyer, Mr. Angelo; a foreigner, his lady, and a little child." Here Mr. Miller's son becomes a clergyman, Mr. Angelo a lawyer, and the lady and child those of a foreigner, who is name- less. " The persons inside the coach were Mr. Miller; a clergyman, his son ; a lawyer ; Mr. Angelo ; a foreigner, his lady ; and a little child." Mr. Angelo here ceases to be a lawyer ; there is no longer a foreigner who is the husband of the lady and the father of the child ; but the lady is described as being a foreigner, and Mr Angelo's wife ; and the child is not understood as being akin to any person in the coach. These are only a few of the alterations that may be effected in the sense of this sentence, by means of punctuation. It would be needless to multiply them further; sufficient has, doubtless, been done, to show the necessity of pointing a passage so as to accord with the fact it is intended to relate. It is very improper to omit dating a letter. The address of the person who writes it should be put above, or, if it be short, on the same line with the day of the month and the year ; and such addresses, as well as the signature, should be written in a plain, intelligible hand. Instances have occurred, of letters remaining unanswered through the culpable negligence, or carelessness, in these particulars, of the parties sending them. It is, in many 28 * 332 THE ESCRUTOIRE. cases, as bad to write the address in an illegible scrawl, or sign the name in a fantastic and affected style, as to omit them alto- gether. The consequences of an address being either omitted, or written incorrectly, or in characters which cannot be deciphered, in a letter from a person who is either travelling from place to place, or whose abode is not previously known by the person to whom the letter is addressed, may prove very unpleasant to the parties. The same observation is applicable to a fanciful signature. It is quite a tax upon the patience and good temper of an indi- vidual, who is addressed by a stranger, or an acquaintance, for the first time, on a subject, perhaps, relating only to the interests of the writer, or, indeed, in any case, to conclude with an hiero- glyphic; to place him in the dilemma of either remaining in ignorance of the name of the party who has honoured him with the epistle, or puzzling his brains, and straining his eyes, to dis- cover the rebus. The date of a letter is sometimes written beneath the signature ; and, by some persons, on the left side of the bottom of the paper: in the former situation, it has an inelegant appearance ; and in the latter, it usurps the place of the name of the person to whom the letter is addressed. The most usual and proper situation of the address of the party writing, with the date beneath it, is on the upper part, and on the right side of the paper, midway be- tween the first line of the letter and the upper edge. Notes, written in the third person, are, occasionally, dated in the same manner; but in these, the most approved manner is to place the address and date on the right side, a little below the last line of the note. Both letters and notes in the third person, should be addressed to the party, for whom they are intended, on the left side of the lower part of the paper; the place of abode it is unnecessary to add. The letter, or note, should never be finished so near the bottom as not to leave sufficient room for the usual conclusion, signature, &c. It is better to carry over a line or two to the next side, than to squeeze the signature of the writer, and the name of the party addressed, down to the paper's edge, even if a little more than the usual blank be left beneath the last line of the first side. The signature should always be written towards the right edge of the page. The language adopted at the conclusion of letters, varies according to the rank, age, and other circumstances of the writer and the person addressed. It is a point with many, so to construct the last sentence of the letter, that the " words of THE ESCRUTOIRE. 333 course," previous to the signature, may form its conclusion. It is disrespectful to be too concise in this part of a letter, especially when addressing a superior. The forms ascend, by various grades, from the plain " I am, Sir, Your humble servant," even beyond " I have the honour to be, My Lord, With great respect, Your Lordship's most obedient, And very humble servant," &c. It is usual to display the conclusion in two, three, or more lines, ac- cording to the terms used by the writer. Our sex has been accused, probably with some reason, of re- serving the most important part of a letter for the postscript ; let us endeavour to avoid giving cause for being thus reproached. Post- scripts are, for the most part, needless, and in bad taste. Allow me, therefore, to advise my young friends to pause a few moments before they conclude a letter, and reflect whether they have any- thing more to say. Above all things, let them not defer their civilities, or kind inquiries, for any friend or acquaintance, to this justly-despised part of a letter. To do so, is a proof of thought- lessness or disrespect; "pray you avoid it." " My kindest regards to my cousin Jane," with a P. S. before it, looks like what it really is, an after-thought ; and is, therefore, not only without value, but, to persons of fine feelings, offensive. There is an affectation, also, in setting the jewel of the whole epistle in the postscript, which is, certainly, unworthy of being either approved or imitated: this fault is more frequently committed by gentlemen than ladies. An instance occurs to me, in which it was grossly palpable. An officer, some years ago, wrote a very long letter to one of his female friends, detailing, not only the particulars of a battle in which his regiment had been engaged, but, also, informa- tion, of a diversified nature, both as to his own pursuits and petty privations, as well as concerning the country through which he had recently marched. He concluded by kindly mentioning, and desiring intelligence of, all his friends; and did not forget to inquire " how the chestnut colt got on." After all this, in a post- script of a line and a half, he stated, that in the engagement his leg was shattered, and had afterwards been amputated; but that he was ft pretty well, considering." By some persons, this letter has been admired ; to me, it appears to be a splendid specimen of ridiculous affectation. To all fantastic signatures, I have already been bold enough to declare that I am an enemy. To all fantastic modes of folding letters, or notes, I will also presume to declare my aversion. I have some reason to flatter myself, that I am warranted in direct- 334 THE ESCRUTOIRE. ing my feeble anathema against both, by good taste, and the opinions of those whom I at once respect for their experience, and admire for their discrimination. It seems to be an object with some ladies, especially young ladies, to fold their notes in such a manner, that it is as difficult a task to open them, as Alexander found it to unravel the knot of king Gordius : like that famous knot, they are frequently cut open in a pet. I will venture to assure my readers, that it is no proof of ingenuity, ton, or talent, to be able to fold a piece of paper, three inches square, in thirty triangles, or to render it as difficult to be opened as a conjuror's box. The common, simple modes of folding letters and notes are, beyond all comparison, the best; and not only quite sufficiently secure, and perfectly neat, but even susceptible of elegance. An envelope to a letter addressed to a superior, is at once elegant and respectful; in fact, it is good taste to inclose every letter in an envelope, except such as are sent by the general post, unfranked, to persons not in Parliament. Nothing should be written on the inside of an envelope ; neither ought any address to be placed on the inclosure. A single sheet of paper is sufficient for a note and its envelope. The sheet should be equally divided, and one half doubled in the common form, upon which the note is to be written, and the other half converted into an envelope. For letters, an entire sheet is generally devoted to the inclosure, and a separate half-sheet, of the same size, used for the envelope. In this case, the letter is written in the usual form ; and, if neces- sary, the whole of the fourth side of the sheet is at the service of the writer. It is not unusual for the inclosure to consist of only half a sheet of paper, unfolded, and with both sides written on ; but this manner is, in the opinion of many persons, rather ob- jectionable. It is, therefore, by no means recommended to the adoption of our readers. If they have occasion to write enough to fill two sides of paper, let their inclosure be an intire sheet ; if their communication be shorter, the inner half-sheet, doubled as a note, is, by far, the more graceful form. Some attention must be paid to the superscription: it should be neither too high, nor too low; but rather approaching the lower than the upper edge. It may be commenced at, or near to, the left side of the paper; and the beginning of each succeeding line should be nearer the right edge than that of the line which precedes it. A proper division of the address must be made: the street should not be placed in the same line as the quartier; nor the latter, as THE ESCRUTOIRE. 335 the town, or city; nor the town, or city, as the kingdom, when it is necessary that these, or any of them, should be mentioned. The number of the house is usually placed at the left-hand lower corner of the paper. The word England is almost unnecessary, when the letter is addressed from abroad to London, or any principal city in this country; but surplusage, in this case, being no offence, it is quite as well to add it to the superscription. Where parties, resident in the same town, or quartier of a town, write to each other, it is not customary to add the name of either the quartier or town to the address. Of these, and many other circumstances mentioned in this article, though many readers are, doubtless, aware, there may be others who are not: for the benefit of the latter, the observations on such particulars are offered. Having thus traced the letter, from its commencement to its superscription, it is incumbent, as it appears to me, that some- thing should be said as to the mode of sealing. In "olden times," letters were secured by the fair maidens, their writers, with threads of silk, and, occasionally, even with braids of their hair; but, now-a-days, " wax is your only letter-lock" of reputation ; wafers are seldom used, but by men of business. The process of sealing a letter should be performed in a few minutes ; but it will take me sometime to describe. I beg to crave the particular attention of my readers to the directions I a i about to give : they were obtained from an eminent gem-engraver, and, as I shall endeavour to be as explicit as possible, it strikes me, that the instructions will be of some value: shining as I here do, with a borrowed light, and repeating merely what I have been taught, I trust that my last observation will pass without impeach- ment. There are few persons who have not been pleased with the beauty and rich effect of the impressions taken by engravers, and wondered how they were effected. The reader may produce specimens that may almost rival those of engravers, by a little practice and attention to the following description of the modus operandi : In the first place, it is highly essential that good wax should be procured. Various kinds of fancy wax are now used by ladies ; most of them are nearly, but not quite so well adapted to display the beauty of the engraving, as that of a brilliant red colour. The light for melting, next claims our attention. A tallow candle should never be used. A lamp, furnished with pure oil, and having a small wick, will do well enough for the purpose; 336 THE ESCRUTOIRE. but it is, in every respect, inferior to a wax-taper, with which every lady's escrutoire should be furnished. It is at once more clean and elegant in its appearance, and considerably better adapted for melting the wax than either a candle or a lamp. It is impossible to melt the wax properly while the flame flits, or its edges are wavy, or it seems to gush up in flashes: the point should be exactly in the centre of the flame, the body of which ought to be clear and steady. The taper should be placed in such a position, as not to be affected by any draughts of air; the desk, or table, on which it stands, should not be moved. In the en- graver's room, when an impression is about to be taken, the air is not suffered to be agitated by sudden or violent motion: "a per- fect stillness reigns around;" so that, in half a minute after the taper is lighted, it burns quite steadily; the flarne ascending in the form of a myrtle-leaf, and being surrounded by a faint blue halo, which is larger at the point of the flame than at its sides. The wax should just touch the tip of the flame without breaking its body; if it be depressed a hairbreadth too much, the flame will divide, rise up on each side of the wax, envelope it in smoke, and cover it with black blotches, than which, nothing is more detrimental to the beauty of the impression about to be produced. It is a general custom to thrust the wax into the flame of the candle, and the momenta morsel of it is melted, to daub it on the paper; to melt another and another portion, and when an unsightly and shapeless mass is gathered together, to pass the seal over the tongue, dab it upon the wax, with ridiculous haste, press it with all the strength which the sealing party possesses, and the result is, an impression which raises a blush on her cheek. The engraving is imperfectly impressed: if it be a head, for instance, there is " a horrid hollow in the fleshless jaws;" a vague and indistinct apology for a chin ; or a rough lump, instead of a smooth and brilliant forehead; no edge appears round one half of the impression, while the other rises so high, as to be unsightly. The surface is covered with blacks : thus, Hebe's cheek is often " spotted as the panther's hide;" and the indistinctness of the impression would render it dubious to the receiver, whether the head were that of Homer or Helen, were it not for the beard. All this may be avoided by a little care ; and sealing a letter, instead of being a toil, may be made a pleasure. A smile has often gleamed upon a fair face at the first glimpse of a good im- pression from a fine seal, accidentally produced; will it not, then, be a source of daily gratification, to possess the ability of taking THE ESCRUTOIRE. 337 off capital proofs of a well-engraved gem, at will, and without fear of failure 1 ? The usual mode of sealing is altogether wrong; the wax should never be thrust into the flame of a taper, but, on the contrary, as I have said, kept above its point; and it should not be removed to the paper until a sufficient quantity is molten for the reception of the seal ; which, instead of being wetted with the tongue, should, previously to its being placed on the wax, be warmed over the flame. However strange this doctrine may seem, it is, nevertheless, true; and so my fair friends will find it on trial. The seal requires heat to clear it of the least dampness, which is highly detrimental to the perfect junction of the molten wax with the finer parts of the engraving. In melting the wax, the elbow, for the sake of extreme steadi- ness, should rest on the table, or Escrutoire ; the hand should be rather below the flame, so that the point of the wax may be higher than its other end. The hand should not be held between your face and the candle, but be kept in a line with, and on the right side of the latter: thus, the side near the end, instead of the end itself, of the wax, may be placed above the point of the flame. The wax should be held lightly between the two first fingers and thumb, and, as soon as the flame begins to melt it, the upper part of the stick is to be turned towards you, taking care not to break the flame, and increasing the velocity of the evolutions until you have sufficient wax melted at the end of the stick for the seal you intend to use. If you have managed this part of the performance cleverly, the wax, though molten, will be so well turned round the stick, that no drops, or, as our country cousins designate them, kisses, will fall in the passage of the wax from the taper to the proper location of the seal. The wax, having been brought to its " haven," is to be applied to the paper, and turned, with its lower edge from you, exactly the reverse of the motion in melting it. When you have taken enough off, turn it nearly upright in your hand, and rub the molten part on the paper, half-a-dozen times round, with the end of the stick, to level it on all sides, and obliterate the blacks, if you have been guilty of any in melting, decreasing your circle by degrees, until you end in the centre of the proposed seal; here twist oft" the thread which ties the stick to the molten wax on the paper; lay the former down, and observe if there are any air-bubbles, or bumps, on the surface of the latter ; if so, pass the molten wax lightly, about half an inch above the flame of the taper, once, twice, or oftener, until they disappear. Round wax is much better 338 THE ESCRUTOIRE. for procuring good impressions than flat, for this reason ; namely, if you use Hat wax, you are compelled to raise and depress the stick, alternately, as its flat parts and edges are brought to the point of the flume; and it requires an accurate eye, and a nice hand, to do this without unequally melting the wax, or smoking it, by breaking the point of the flame : with round wax all this is avoided. If you have melted the wax properly, there is no occasion to be in a ludicrous hurry about placing the seal upon it; in fact, you may be premature in so doing; for if the seal be applied while the wax is too liquid, it will recede from the surface of the stone to the edges; thus you will produce a deep frame and no picture. At the same time it is necessary to caution you not to be dilatory: sealing a letter should be done without hurry, and without delay. After the wax is spread upon the paper, observe if it be equally distributed; and if not, remedy the defect, by rubbing it out, towards the part which is deficient, with the end of the stick, or, otherwise, you will not obtain a good border to your impression ; let its surface be as smooth as possible, highest in the centre, and decreasing with equal gradations, on all sides, to the edges ; which should be clear, rounded, but not abrupt. The mass of wax should be laid out according to the form of your seal (than which, of course, it should be a little larger,) whether oblong, oval, square, or otherwise. A very small bit of wax may be dropped beneath the turn-over of the letter ; and the wax intended for the impression should be melted exactly upon it. The edges of the turn-over must be kept level, by extending the fore and middle fingers of the left hand, and pressing them lightly on each side of the place where the seal is to be fixed. If this be not done, the edges will rise up, so as to divide the wax after it is melted, and the impression will be imperfect. The left hand is not to be removed from its position until the seal is taken off the wax, and the impression is complete. Previously to melting the wax, the face of the seal should be held, for a few seconds, over the point of the taper, observing the same precautions as in melting the wax. An engraver ascertains when the seal is sufficiently hot, by placing it on the back of his hand ; and if the heat be immediately perceptible, but by no means painful, then, as ladies who write on cookery say, " it is enough." After the wax is on the letter, the seal is to be passed, for an instant, over the flame again, and then placed upon the wax. Particular care should be taken in applying the seal, as nearly as THE ESCRUTOIRE. 339 possible, in the centre of the wax, so as to raise an even and regular rim, or border, round its edges: it should be kept in a perpendicular position, held steadily in the hand, and moderately pressed on the wax, upon which it should remain from ten to twenty seconds. If it be removed too soon, the impression is liable to sink, and become indistinct in the finer parts; especially if the wax be in too liquid a state at the time of making the impression. However formidable this description of the proper mode of sealing a letter may appear, it will be found remarkably simple, and the work of about a single minute only in practice: the most common actions require much more lengthened descriptions, if it be the intention of a writer to convey accurate directions iff a reader, than, at the first glance, one would be inclined to imagine. The mode of placing a pin properly in " the sash, the fillet, or the kerchief," would occupy half a page, and require considerable nicety, if it were so described, that a being, who had never seen " the feat performed," might acquire a correct idea of the mode of doing it Should either of our readers feel inclined to produce an extra- ordinarily fine impression, she may lay vermilion on her seal, after the manner of the engravers. The common colour is unfit for the purpose; Chinese vermilion only should be used: it is to be procured at 2s, the ounce packet; and may be kept in any secure compartment of the writing-desk. A jeweller's soft polish- ing-brush, and a camel's-hair brush of a tolerably large size, will be found necessary for the preparation of the seal, and the appli- cation of the vermilion: a bit of fine pomatum, about the size of a pin's head, is to be rubbed over the whole surface of the polishing-brush ; and this will suffice for twenty or thirty impres- sions. When the seal is warmed, the polishing-brush is passed across it three or four times ; the camel's-hair brush is then dipped in the vermilion, and lightly and equally applied to the face of the seal, so as to leave a thin mask of the powder over every part of it. The loose vermilion must then be blown off with the breath, otherwise it will be apt to lodge in the hollows, and prevent the wax from entering the finer lines. The wax is to be melted, and the seal applied as before described. The impression will be so superior, as to compensate for the trifling additional trouble taken to produce it. Instead of having a gloss all over the surface, and being of one colour only, the interior part, which 29 340 THE ESCRUTOIRE. the seal has touched, will be of a rich dead vermilion ; the frame, or raised border, outside it, retaining the natural brilliancy of the wax. The vermilion, as will be readily conceived, quits the face of the seal the moment it comes in contact with the wax, and attaches itself to the surface of the latter. This is the manner in which the beautiful impressions of the engravers are made. They have, however, one great advantage : instead of making an impression on a letter, they melt the wax on thick paper; the bottom of which they hold over a taper, while they rub the wax to the highest state of perfection to receive the seal. If the im- pression should be bad, they can melt the wax again, by holding the paper above the flame; but in sealing a letter, if the first attempt be unsuccessful, it is impossible to improve it. Medallion wafers, for sealing letters and notes, although they possess some degree of elegance, are in no respect superior to impressions of good gem engravings on wax; nor have they at any time been generally adopted : they possess, therefore, an objection- able appearance of singularity. For ordinary correspondence, ladies generally employ the plain gilt-edged post paper. White and tinted satin writing-papers, of very delicate colours, with and without embossed borders, are also frequently used ; they are considered more elegant for letters of congratulation, accompanying a present, &c. than the plain paper. For notes, or billets, the small tinted or embossed note-papers, of various sizes, are almost universally adopted ; and it is now become very general to enclose them in delicate white or tinted envelopes, sometimes embossed round the margins, but more fre- quently plain white. These envelopes may lie purchased, at the fancy stationers', of all the sizes requisite for folded letters, notes, or billets: they resemble a sort of pocket; the ends are closed, and the turn-over is sealed in the usual way, after the enclosure is inserted. Mourning papers, of different degrees of depth, accord- ing to the occasion which requires their use, are adopted for all kinds of correspondence. The best ink is that which flows freely from the pen, and has a pale appearance when written with, but dries a fine black colour. A small quantity only should be poured into the standish, and the bottle, in which the residue is kept, should be well corked. The glass should be frequently cleaned ; it ought also to have a cover, as that the dust may be prevented from falling into the ink: neither sponge nor cotton should be put in it ; they are objectionable, THE ESCRUTOIRE. 341 damage the fine point of the pen when it is squeezed against them in order to make the ink flow. Various kinds of pens have been invented within the last few years; but whatever may be the merit of the greater part of them, for the use of a lady who is seldom employed at her Escrutoire, except to write a few short notes, and occasionally two or three letters, none of them are superior to the pen made from the gray goose quill. The silver and steel pens have always appeared to me to be hard and unpleasant; and I have rarely found them capable of producing such fine marks as a good common pen. Boxes of quills cut from the feather, and also points only, are to be obtained at the stationers' : these are convenient, because they are more portable than pens in bundles. The complaint of having wretched pens, ink, and paper, as an excuse for careless or unintelligible writing, is a plea that ought never to be accepted from a young lady; for, as every one must be aware, she can but rarely, if ever, in the ordinary course of events, be placed in situations where she cannot obtain paper and ink of proper quality: quills are also easily obtained, and she ought to be able to make or mend a pen herself. If she have not already acquired the mode of performing this very useful operation, the following directions will, perhaps, be of considerable assist- ance to her in making the attempt. It is, of course, necessary that the Escrutoire should be furnished with a good pen-knife: it generally is so ; but the blade is more frequently had recourse to for the purpose of erasing mistakes, than for its more legitimate use, making or mending a pen: I will take leave to observe, en passant, that in nine cases out of ten, it is better to run the pen lightly through a word inserted by mistake, and to write the correction above it, than to deface the letter by scratching it out and inserting the correction in its place. The handle of the knife should be held low in the hand, so that a full command may be obtained of about half an inch of the top 342 THE ESCRUTOIRE. of the blade, which is sufficient to operate with in shaping the pen. A quarter of an inch is to be first cut off the back of the quill (Fig. 1,) and about twice as much in front (Fig. 2;) a short slit is then to be made, as nearly as possible in the centre of the back of the quill (Fig. 3;) the slit is to be increased (Fig. 4,) not in the ordinary way of filliping it with the thumb nail, which frequently makes it ragged, irregular, or too long, but by using the end of the handle of the knife, if a proper desk knife, or, in default of that, another quill, so as to act as a L-ver against it. To prevent the slit being carried too far, the left thumb should be pressed firmly on the buck of the quill. The knife is now to be applied to the front part again, an;l what is called the cradle-piece (Figs. 5 and 6) cut away; a point is then to be obtained, by cutting gradually from the sides of the quill towards the end; this is technically termed sloping the shoulders, and is varied according to the maker's style of writing. For a free running-hand, such as is usually adopted by ladies, the shoulders should be considerably sloped, as fig. 7: which shows the pen with the cradle-piece removed, the shoulders properly sloped, and the point ready to be nibbed. When the pen is in this state, it is proper to ascertain, by looking at its back as well as front, that an equal quantity has been removed from each side, that the slit is neither too long, nor that too much of it has been cut away: in the former case, the pen will be either too soft, or splutter; in the latter, it will be too hard, except it be for such as bear heavily on the paper when writing. The slit, if too long, may of course be easily decreased, by cutting more away from the sides; if it !)e too hard, the slit may be increased, by carefully applying the end of the knife handle, or another quill, and breaking it up in the manner directed for making it in the first instance. At this stage of the operation, it is also advisable to see that the points, as well as the sides on each side of the slit, are nearly even, and neatly tapered. They are to be lightly closed, and the back of the pen, from the points of the shoulders down- ward, gently rounded by a trifling pressure of the ball of the left thumb. The pen-nibber, or the end of another quill, is now to be introduced to the barrel of the pen ; with the knife held sloping, its edge being forward, a fine piece is to be cut from the top of the points; the pen is then to be cross-nibbed, by cutting a small portion of the ends of the points with the knife held in a perpen- dicular position. That part of the pen called the scoop, from which the cradle-piece has been removed, should, finally, be cut out and finished, so as to bear a proper proportion to the shoulders . THE ESCRUTOIRE. 343 (Fig. 8, the perfect pen.) A pen may be mended several times without increasing the length of the slit; for if two or three thin strips or shavings be cut away from each side, and the ends nibbed, a fresh point is obtained. When the slit becomes too short, it may, of course, be lengthened by the point of the handle, in the way we have described in the formation of the pen. The shoulders and scoop should be cut away as the slit is made to advance up the barrel, so that the pen may preserve its proper shape, however often it be mended. The pen should never be nibbed on the thumb nail; nor should its point be pressed against the ball of the right thumb when cutting out the shoulders: the edge of the quill should rather be held against the side of the thumb, so that the knife may pass clear off from the point; thus all danger of cutting the thumb is obviated. In charity to those who either will not, or cannot learn how to make or mend a pen, I think it right to observe, that a little instrument, called a pen-maker, may now be obtained at the cutlers', by which, either operation may be per- formed with very little experience or manual dexterity. The systems of teaching ladies to write a neat, regular running- hand, which have been generally adopted for some years past, destroy that individuality of character which was formerly very much noticed, and somewhat admired; all those who have been taught by the same master forming their letters so much in the same style, that it is almost impossible to discover any difference in their writing; females of the same class in life, now write, as they dress, nearly alike ; but whatever may be the objections made to modern methods of tuition, by those who have founded a system on Cowley's expression, " I want to see Mrs, Jago's hand-writing, in order that I may know her temper,*' it appears to me, that much benefit has been produced by the inventors and professors of the new modes of forming the hand-writing; for the letters of almost every lady 6f these days, are neat, elegant, and legible ; whereas, although a few of the ladies of past times wrote in characters which were truly beautiful, the greater number of them perpetrated rude and scarcely intelligible scrawls. The destruction of individual character, by the adoption of one general type or form in manuscript, is really but a trifling loss; for any peculiarity in the characters, indicative of the mind, temper, or situation in life of the writer, could but rarely occur. Irrita- ble persons frequently write with great neatness and precision; while many of an opposite temperament scribble in the most hurried, and apparently nervous, manner imaginable. The sig- 29* 344 THE ESCRUTOIRE. natures of several who have been remarkable for their firmness, are weak and vacillating; and those of others, who were pos- sessed of but a moderate portion of resolution, appear firm and decided. One of the most beautiful, elegant, and delicate penmen of the present day, is strong, coarse, and powerful, both in mind and person. It is almost a misery to look upon the manuscript of some of the greatest artists; and a positive pleasure to behold the neat, harmonious, and beautiful characters of men who scarcely possess a single idea of the beautiful in form. A person now living, who is much admired for the careful, steady manner in which he applies himself to the difficulties of a profession, that are only to be conquered by calm, patient, and laborious applica- tion, is almost unintelligible on paper: we see the signature of a sage, but it looks like the scrawl of an idiot. The hand-writing may, in some cases, lay the writer open to a suspicion of being deficient in taste; but, with submission to those who have had more expe- rience, and thought more deeply on the subject than myself, it appears to me that the language is a much better criterion of the writer's mental and moral qualities, than the characters in which it is clothed. The reader may very properly judge for herself on this point by referring to the fac-similes of the autographs of three females, with whose names, 1 trust, my young friends are sufficiently versed in English history to be acquainted: without reading beyond the close of the present sentence, let them select, from the three figures, that which approaches nearest to the ideal signature which .they have conceived of Queen Mary, of persecuting notoriety. THE ESCRUTOIRE 345 It has probably occurred to the reader, that we often form a mental picture of the features and deportment of a person whom we know by reputation, which, upon a subsequent sight of the individual, we find to be altogether, or in the main points, decidedly incorrect: this is often exactly the case as to signatures. In numerous instances we fancy the autograph of a person to be very different from what we find it; and, on the other hand, we often discover, that all our notions of a corres- pondent's personal appearance are destroyed at the first interview. (Fig. 9, the autograph of Queen Mary, daughter of Henry the Eighth ; Fig. 10, of Henrietta Maria, consort of Charles the First; and Fig. 11, of Mary, consort of William the Third.) Before concluding my remarks, I feel in some measure bound to warn my readers against suffering themselves to fall into bad positions when writing; they are not merely ungraceful, but are calculated to produce a permanent contortion of the shape. 12 13 14 The injurious effect produced upon the figure by leaning in the manner indicated by fig. 12, must be evident to any one, who will compare the position of fig. 12 with that of fig. 14, or even fig. 13. Mr. Shaw, a gentleman who has written very learnedly upon this subject, recommenJs, in cases where the body has a decided inclination to the left when writing, to equalize the shoulders, by placing a book under the left elbow; and, if this should not be found sufficient, to balance a book on the head. The manner of holding a pen is another subject that merits consideration. Although, perhaps, inal-position, in this respect, is 346 THE ESCRUTOIRE. not likely to produce any ultimate deformity, unless the hand be more than usually occupied in writing; yet, as the best mode of holding the pen is the ruo^t graceful, and affords the writer greater facility of execution than any other, that mode should be acquired and persevered in. A glance at the above sketches will, doubtless, convince the reader, that, if it were only on the score of grace, it is well to hold the pen in a proper manner. Many ladies, who have not been sufficiently instructed at the period of their com- mencing to write, when the hand is small and weak, acquire the crabbed and ungraceful mode of holding the pen designated by fig. 15: others, either from the same cause, or through inattention, after they have been emancipated from the thraldom of the writing- master, place the pen between the fore and middle linger, as represented by fig. 16. The proper mode of holding the pen is intended to be shown by fig. 17; which, however, can be much better acquired by a little attention to the instructions of an intelligent writing-master, than from any engraving, or printed instructions. PAINTING. This is an art akin to Nature's sell, So mighty in its means, we stand prepared " To see the life as lively mock'd, as ever Still sleep mock'd death. " F all those attainments, which contribute as well to the gratification of the senses, as to the refinement of the taste, and the enlarge- ment of the intellectual powers, the art of Painting is, perhaps, the best adapted to the female mind. The satisfaction derivable from the contemplation of a beautiful work of art, possesses a peculiar advantage: it is renew- able at pleasure, without any continuance of the exertion by which it was produced. But a rare combination of talent with industry, or, at least, great industry, can alone lead to productions which may claim admiration beyond the circle of our own partial relatives and friends. Experience has proved the impracticability of convey- ing a knowledge of the elementary principles of this art, in any manner, so as to supersede the useful labours of the drawing- master ; yet, there is much to be learned before the pupil can go alone, with confidence, after the period when his attention ceases, and which the limited duration of his lessons cannot include: to this we must attribute the fact, that so many, who make a fair progress 348 PAINTING. under the master's eye, either never attempt any performance with the pencil, after he has ceased to superintend and direct their studies, or finding themselves embarrassed at the outset, abandon the pursuit, and fancy " their genius docs not lie that way." We will presume that our readers have gone; through the usual elementary course of instruction; that they are able to copy, with accuracy, the outline, at least, of any object whirh may be set before them: this, and much more, may be obtained by any person of moderate abilities, by industry, without an iota of that much-misunderstood quality, genius, which has proved an ignis fatuus to thousands. One of the greatest artists this country has produced, was right when he said, " Nothing is denied to well-directed industry; nothing is to be obtained without it." Depend, then, wholly upon your own exertions; and listen rather to the criticisms of the judicious, than to the praises of those who will flatter you with assurances, that you possess intuitive excellences, which may render application unnecessary. To recommend a proper course of study, will be the most useful purpose to which these few pages can be devoted; for it cannot be dispensed with. Before any attempt be made beyond copying, the student is enjoined to acquire a clear view of the leading principles of per- spective, on pain of committing absurdities, for which no beauty of colour can atone : it will be found less difficult than is generally imagined. Although it would be impossible to compress into our limits all the explanations and diagrams necessary to an illustra- tion of its theory, we shall subsequently offer a few observations, which, we trust, will prove beneficial to the student. The minor considerations of materials and preparations for study are not unimportant. An easy position of the body is not only conducive to health, but leaves the mind disengaged for the occupation, which, for the time, should wholly engross it. The subject to be copied must be placed directly before you, and the pencil held with freedom. Never omit straining your paper on a flat board, framed together so as not to warp: this may be done by damping with a clean sponge, which expands the paper, then pasting or gluing down the edges, and suffering it to dry gra- dually : but a neater method is to use a drawing-board, with a separate frame, which, as it may be had at any of the shops which supply artists with materials, it is unnecessary to describe. The first point to be determined, either in copying from a picture, or from nature, is the horizontal line, or that height in the picture with which the eye of the painter is supposed to be PAINTING. 349 exactly level. In the representation of a flat country, this is placed at one-third of the height of the picture. The extent of the subject to be included in a drawing from nature, will require the next consideration; and this is found to be as much as can be contained in an angle of about fifty degrees, or as much as can be conveniently seen by an eye in a fixed position, without turning the head: nevertheless, objects may often be introduced from a greater distance, as trees, &c. to improve a composition, especially when no importance is attached to the identity of the scene. There are two points, to which we would particularly wish to call attention, because they are errors that greatly retard the progress: one is a want of command of hand; the other, an im- patience to produce a finished effect, without the systematic and gradual process necessary to the production of a good picture. To remedy the first will require great attention and practice, if the uncertainty of hand, or timidity of touch, exist in a great degree. It is never found among the artists of necessity, with whom quantity of production is an object of importance ; as deco- rative painters, and designers for furniture and manufactures: with these, freedom and precision of hand are seldom wanting. We advise the pupil to study well every line before it is begun; to determine its exact course and bearing; in short, to look from the object to be represented, to the surface on which it is to be drawn, again and again, until the mind's eye transfers it, and the imagination sees it in the place it is to occupy: that is the moment to be seized ; and then the quicker the line is drawn the better. Large objects should be copied on common sheets of paper; it is a great check to the freedom of the hand, to have the materials so delicate, or costly, as to produce any degree of fear about spoiling them. This advice, however, must not lead you into an opposite extreme. Remember, always, that correctness is the first principle of the art. An occasional hour or two would not be mispent, if occupied in drawing straight lines, perpendi- cularly; diagonals, parallel to each other; and circles without the compasses. This observation is applicable to many who would be ashamed of being seen so employed; who have, in fact, begun to make pictures, without sufficient practice in the rudiments of the art. The second error is even still more common, from the infant who lisps his petition for " a box of colours to paint with," to the " children of a larger growth," who waste their time in shadowing, or colouring, upon an outline which might mean any- 350 PAINTING. thing. There is no time, in the progress of a picture, when the forms of objects can be so conveniently improved, as when they are in a faint outline: a thorough conviction of this, and expe- rience of the pleasure of modelling, as it were, into substance, by shadows, and adding the charms of colour to well-studied forms, will render patient labour less irksome, by anticipation of certain ultimate success. In your early practice of drawing from solid objects, it would be well to make several studies from a white globe, placing it in different lights, and having only one window in the room. You will find, that there is but a single spot upon it which can be represented by perfect whiteness; and that all the other rays falling obliquely upon a receding surface, a weakened light is received, diminishing, at last, into absolute shadow, until again relieved by reflection from surrounding objects on the opposite side. For a globe, a billiard-ball may be used; a cylinder maybe made of a roll of writing-paper ; an egg will serve as an oval ; and a cone may be obtained by rolling up a sheet of paper in the shape of an extinguisher. Thus the models are easily obtained; and the pupil has but to study them well, and she will imbibe all the principles of light, shadow, and reflection. She may then proceed to the plaster bust, which must be kept perfectly clean and free from dust, as discolorations greatly embarrass an inexperienced practitioner. The outline should be sketched faintly, at first, with soft charcoal, that made from the willow is best, the superfluity of which may readily be removed from the paper, by a light whisk of the handkerchief, or even a feather, leaving a faint, but suffi- ciently distinct representation: this should be repeated till the pupil is satisfied with the form and proportions, when chalk may be used. The paper selected for this style of drawing is of various tints, some persons preferring brown; others, blue; a gray is, however, our favourite colour, as it forms the most natural medium between the black and white chalk, and must always appear between them. The soft French chalk is the best for general purposes; and the Italian chalk, which is harder, for finishing, or where great neatness is required. As the general proportions of the human figure may be found in all books upon drawing, we shall not here detail them elabo- rately; but merely give those which must be constantly borne in mind, or referred to in designing. The human figure is measured by a scale formed from the length of the head: in a full-grown person, the wholo height is PAINTING. 351 generally eight heads, or ten faces. The head is subdivided into four parts, each of which is the length of the nose ; and the arms, when extended, will cover a space equal to the whole length of the figure. The breadth varies according to the age, strength, and other characteristics, of the person. The hand is the length of the face; and the length of the foot is generally one-seventh part of the whole height. These proportions must not be under- stood to apply strictly to every human figure ; but are deduced from the measurement of several antique statues, the acknow- ledged standards of ideal beauty. Although these general propor- tions must be known, they are only useful, as the rules of grammar are in language, for reference in cases of doubt: it would be impossible to draw a figure solely by the application of them ; in almost every position, some of the limbs come under the in- fluence of fore-shortening, and measurement is impracticable. The technical term, fore-shortening, expresses the greatest difficulty a student in drawing has to encounter : because, although dependant upon geometrical principles, no practical rules can be laid down for its execution: it is the art of representing, in perspective, an infinite series of curved lines, occasioned by the developement of the bones and muscles. There is but one mode of acquiring skill in this, which is the grand characteristic of a master in the art of design; namely, practice; long and patient practice from the same figure. We will suppose a statue, as the Apollo Belvidere, in which, one arm is extended: it should be first drawn in either of the side views, in which there is no fore-shortening, until the student is well acquainted with the length, substance, and ana- tomical developement of the arm ; it should then be so placed, that the arm advances towards the eye of the spectator, and be drawn in that position. These exercises should be varied and continued, until the student can, by means of her pencil, give a clear idea of a part advancing or receding without the assistance of shadow. In the study of the human figure, heads, hands, and feet being the parts most frequently developed, and possessing the greatest expression, should be studied, as large as in life, from good prints, which may be had, at the principal shops, very cheap, since the fertility of lithography has enabled artists to multiply their own works without the intervention of the engraver. Too much care cannot be taken in the choice of the figures, or busts, which are used as subjects for study; in general, the casts from original antiques, or good copies of them upon a reduced scale, are far more useful in forming the taste, than the fanciful, or affected 352 PAINTING. creations of modern talent. There is nothing to fear, in point of style, from the cold severity of the ancients: a thorough knowledge of the abstract principles of beauty, can only be de- rived from them; individuality of character is an after-consideration, and must be acquired by studying the expression of the passions in the looks and attitudes of those about us. In copying prints, as a study of light and shadow, it will be well to select such as have been taken from sculpture ; as in these alone the engraver confines himself to their imitation. In prints, which are taken from paintings, there is always a degree of strength given to the engraving, in exact proportion to the local tints in the picture: this is termed colour; and, when skilfully executed, it contributes greatly to give an idea of the effect of the picture imitated. It would by no means be a waste of time to copy, in Indian ink, or sepia, a good print or two in each style, which you will have no difficulty in distinguishing, by attending to the above observations, one from marble; say, for instance, an antique statue, or bas-relief; and one from a fine painting. Although it would be wrong in us to encourage the smallest expectation of producing a good original picture, unless the student be acquainted with geometry, perspective, anatomy, &c. we by no means intend to restrain her from practising, until a perfect knowledge of these sciences is acquired: practice and theory should go hand-in-hand; the sketch-book cannot be too much in use ; a happy thought should never be suffered to escape, even before the manual skill is acquired, which is requisite to transfer it to paper with correctness: indeed, sketches of ideas, recol- lections, and hasty observations, will always form a class in the portfolio, separate from the more careful studies of form, colour, light and shadow. 'It is an excellent practice, after studying any subject, to put the drawing aside, and endeavour to make another from recol- lection: this is the first step towards composition; and a comparison of the two studies will show how much of the original you have made your own, by impressing it on the memory. The next step towards rising above the character of a mere copyist, is to choose an example, similar in style and general effect to one you wish to take from nature ; and placing it before you, after a critical examination of the principles upon which it has been executed, to endeavour to produce a similar picture; an imitation, not a copy; an exercise of the same process, upon a composition of objects altogether different from those of the original PAINTING. 353 The principles of light and shadow, as applied to landscapes, should be studied in sepia, or Indian ink, as the combination of their effects with colour only tends to perplex the student in a preliminary course of study. In drawing from nature, the principal object, or that which formed the inducement in choosing the subject, must be carefully distinguished ; and it is the more necessary to mention this, as it is a point frequently neglected by masters, who endeavour to make all parts of the picture equally interesting : the result is, that the subordinate divisions attack and destroy the effect of the principal. Simplicity is one of the leading characteristics of beauty. Whatever the principal object may be, for instance, a building, a tree, a mountain, an animal, or a river, place it so as to receive the strongest light and shadow. If the subject have been selected for the sake of the beauty of its distance, the foreground should not detract from the attention due to it, by the introduction of figures; for it must be particularly noticed, that the actions of human nature are so much more interesting than inanimate objects in general, that even a peasant reposing, will sometimes balance, in point of attraction, an object many times larger, and which is intended by the artist to be much more important, on the other side of the picture. Everything introduced, which is not subservient to some definite and well-understood purpose, is prejudicial to the general effect of the whole. The spectator should never be suffered to doubt, for a moment, the intention of the artist in the choice of his subject. We often hear young practitioners complain of the difficulty of drawing trees: they should be made the subject of separate studies; and the character of each species ought to be carefully distinguished. There is quite as much difference between two sorts of trees, as of animals : a tree, in the foreground of a picture, should never be so drawn, as to leave the spectator in the dark, as to whether it is intended to represent oak, ash, beech, or elm. Excellent prints, as examples, are to be had ; and they should be taken out into the fields by the student, and compared with nature. The next lesson is to draw the tree from nature, without die assistance of the print, and to compare the drawing and print together after- wards. To those who spend much of their time in the country, (and who else may hope to succeed in landscape?) we will point out an opportunity which they possess of acquainting themselves with the characters of trees : There are many fine days, early in the year, when the weather is mild enough to admit of sketching 354 PAINTING. from nature, before the groves are clad with their summer verdure; and if accurate drawings be made at this season, and kept till summer, they will greatly assist in studies from the same trees ; indeed, it will be found a most pleasing, as well as an instructive, practice, to compare the sketches so made, in spring, with the trees themselves, in summer; and to account for the large masses of foliage, by tracing, with the assistance of the previous sketch, the branches, now hidden from the sight, from which they spring and still derive support. Many good sketches are lost, or produce unsatisfactory pictures, by effects being chosen unsuitable to the character of the scenery. It may happen, that a castle, or massive building, has been drawn in the morning, and it may have a dull, heavy effect ; when the same structure, indistinctly seen in the repose of evening, or the solemnity of twilight, would convey to the mind an impression of grandeur and gloomy majesty. It is right to sketch at all times and in all seasons ; but it is the province of an artist, when he selects from the sketch-book a subject for painting, to determine under what aspect it would appear to the greatest advantage ; and not to be influenced by the accidental circumstance of having seen it in one effect only. Painting a scene from nature, is some- thing more than copying. A morning effect is suitable to a com- position of pleasing forms: busy scenes are consistent with the bright, open light of mid-day: and repose is in harmony with the softness of evening. In the representation of a low, flat country, with a single object standing unsupported, as the subject of the picture, a great interest is required in the sky; while a scene full of detail or attraction in itself, should not exhibit any atmospheric phenomena calculated to withdraw the attention from the principal objects. We shall now proceed to give a few general hints upon the theory and use of colours. There are but three primitive colours, red, yellow, and blue: from these all the others are derived. The combination of red and yellow produces orange ; of red and blue, purple; and of blue and yellow, green. The iris, or rain- bow, is divided, by Sir Isaac Newton, into 360 parts, of which violet occupies 80; indigo, 40; blue, 60; green, 60; yellow, 48, orange, 27, and red, 45. These observations relate to scientific arrangement; practical utility, which is our principal object, re- quires that we should treat of them as pigments, or the substances by which the local tints of objects may be pictorially expressed. The old treatises on water-colours, which contain directions for PAINTING. 355 grinding them, may be considered as obsolete; colours being now manufactured by men, in whom a knowledge of chemistry is united to that of the qualities desirable to a painter, and who produce colours, in cakes, which are both brilliant and permanent. Oil-colours may also be purchased ready-ground; and, as many ladies now practice with these, a few hints on painting in oil may be acceptable to some of our readers. If portrait be the ultimate object of the student, the best preparatory course, after a knowledge of drawing in chalks is acquired, will be to practice from busts, with a single colour, and white. Raw umber will answer the purpose, upon sheets of milled board, such as are used in binding books : they may be bought at any stationer's ; and as they are of a dark colour, and would not show black chalk distinctly, the drawings on them may be made with pipe-clay rolled up into crayons. This mode of practising possesses this advantage, that it may be pursued by lamp-light, when colours would not be distinguishable. A good lamp is better than candles, as it always keeps the same light. Care must be taken, if there be any other lights in the room, that they are shaded, so as not to illuminate and destroy the shadows on the bust; and that, every evening, the light and the figure are placed in precisely the same relative positions, as the slightest deviation will entirely de- stroy all that has been before done. The management of the gradations of light and shade, and the use of the brush, will be quite sufficient to occupy the attention of the student for some- time, without distracting it by a variety of tints. The principal colours used in portrait-painting are flake-white, ivory-black, ultra-marine, cobalt blue, yellow ochre, light red, vermilion, lake, Indian ink, burnt umber, burnt terra-sienna, Vandyke brown, Naples yellow, and Prussian blue. Such of these as are required, according to the complexion to be imitated, are laid round the palette, and tints are composed by mixing them with each other, and with white. Light red and white is the best general tint for the ground of the flesh, which may be altered to the complexion by an addition of vermilion, or brown ochre, as the case may require. It is almost impossible to give any useful rules for mixing the tints ; various methods are adopted by dif- ferent artists, and experience it the only guide: some use a mixture of ivory black, Indian red, with a little lake and white, as a ground- tint for the shadows in flesh, while others paint the whole face, or figure, with various combinations of light red, Naples yellow, ultra- marine, vermilion, lake, and brown ochre, with Vandyke brown 30* 356 PAINTING. The lights should be painted with a strong body of colour, and the shadows kept thin and transparent. To dilute the colour on the palette, a mixture is used of equal quantities of fine pale drying oil and mastic varnish: if both these be good, it is remark- able that though perfectly clear when separate, they form a strong jelly when slightly stirred together. The shadows of objects are, strictly speaking, of no colour; that is to say, shadow being but the absence, or interception, of the direct rays of light, colour is never increased by it. In water- colours, the general breadth of shadow is best imitated by a neutral tint of a cool retiring colour. Artists mix these tints in various manners: indigo and Indian red are frequently used for this purpose; but whatever mixture be adopted, it is an invariable object to produce a clean, pearly hue, which will unite agreeably with either the warm or cold colours. Objects seen against a strong light assume a neutral tint, while those upon which a strong light falls display the beauty of their local colours: the former, also (as well as those under the influ- ence of shadows falling upon them,) should not be made out too distinctly ; the latter, on the contrary, require the utmost care in finishing. There are many styles, or modes, of executing miniatures: we find some in which but little is attempted, yet that little, if well performed, answers, as well as an elaborate picture, the purpose of perpetuating the recollections of private friendship. To this class belong the beautiful drawings we sometimes see on card-paper; in which the figure is only sketched in pencil, and the head lightly tinted. A free slight style seems most suitable to these ; as elaborate finishing, and the full force of colour, invariably ap- pear heavy upon a white ground. Miniatures intended to be highly finished, should be painted on ivory; which may be ob- tained in sheets, either at the colour-shops, or of the ivory-turners: it is prepared by rubbing it with cuttle-fish bone, or with finely- powdered and sifted pumice-stone, to take off the polish; after which it must never be touched with the fingers. Some artists previously bleach it, which is done by laying it on a flat table, between two sheets of clean paper, and placing upon it a common iron, such as is used by laundresses, made only so hot that the hand can bear it for a few seconds, frequently moving it about, and turning the ivory. It must be very particularly observed, that if the heat be too long continued, the ivory will become opaque, and, consequently, spoiled. When it is sufficiently white, a flat PAINTING. 357 weight should be kept upon it, until it cools, in order to prevent its warping. It may, afterwards, be fixed upon a card by gum- water: the edges only should be touched with the gum, as it would appear dark and unpleasant if the gum extended under the flesh. If only the bust be represented, it will generally be advisable to make it one-third of the length of the ivory, and to place the bottom of the face in the centre: this, however, must be varied, if the sitter be above or below the middle size; as an idea may be conveyed of the stature of the person, by placing the chin above or below the centre of the picture. Some of the miniature- painters make their outline on paper, and fix it under the ivory ; the transparency of which enables them to trace it with a faint colour on the surface. This seems to be a good practice for those who cannot draw a likeness without many alterations and cor- rections, by which the surface of the ivory might be injured. The colours should be used with soft water. Ultra-marine and the madder-lakes form a delicate pearly tint for the flesh, with which the shadows may be generally defined; the reflections must be of a warmer hue ; for these, raw terra-sienna, or dark ochre, may be used. Indian red is a very useful colour, but of a heavy body, and, in miniature-painting, it requires to be used with great delicacy. The colours prepared from madder, both reds and browns, are permanent, and quite brilliant enough for the local tints of flesh; except, in some instances, when a few touches of carmine lake may be required; as on the lips, for instance, or upon a complexion of a peculiar bloom. The colours should be laid on gradually, either by light touches, which method is termed hatching; or by dots, called stippling. The greatest care is ne- cessary to avoid leaving a body of colour on the ivory; in fact, it is well to dilute the colour, until it becomes thin, and to use it from the top, so as only to take up the finest and least substantial part. It is an expeditious method of beginning a picture, to lay in broad washes of colour; observing to allow for finishing, by leaving them lighter than the final effect intended to be produced, as the full tone of colour must be very gradually approached. In painting white drapery, pearls, &c. as ivory is not perfectly colourless, it is necessary to mark the highest lights by a little permanent white. By previous studies, for which the ball, cylin- der, &c. have been recommended, the student will have discovered how small a portion of the surface of any rounded object admits of the full brilliancy of absolute light: in painting upon ivory the most projecting point in such a light, may approach to shining ; 358 PAINTING. and if a colour have been washed over the whole, it may require to be removed from the points : this may be done by means of a sharp scraper, or penknife. One of the little inconveniences which learners have to contend with, in painting upon ivory, arises from the colour merely lying on the surface with so little adhesion; this requires some care: a touch must never be repeated, until the colour, previously laid on, is perfectly dry, or it will bring off the latter, and leave a spot of clean ivory. Draperies of a dark hue are often painted, for the sake of expedition, with a body-colour, made by mixing white with it ; in addition to which, blues and blacks require Indian red to coun- teract their coldness. This body-colour will dry lighter than might be supposed from appearances when it is first laid on; and the shadows may be glazed over it with Indian ink, or ivory black and lake, diluted with water only, without any mixture of white or gum. The darkest shadows may be produced by gum-water, but this depth must be reserved for the last sharp touches. It is necessary for us to observe, that some artists paint the draperies transparent, as well as the faces. A powerful magnifying-glass should be used, in order to discover and remove any particles of the colours; as miniature-paintings, in addition to all the requisites which they ought to possess in common with larger pictures, are expected to bear the closest examination. PERSPECTIVE. The science of Perspective is the most powerful auxiliary to the art of Painting; it is founded on immutable principles, and never can be subject to the caprices of fashion, or admit of the modification of individual taste; it may be defined " The art of representing, on a plane surface, the forms of objects as they appear to the sight." Our fair readers, of more developed intel- lect, will pardon our answering a question which may be supposed to proceed from their younger sisters, " Do our eyes then deceive us! and do not objects appear to the sight, as they really are!" We reply, " Your eyes do not deceive you; but the mind sup- plies the deficiency of information derivable from them." Look down any long street, and observe how the houses and people seem to diminish as they recede from the eye: you are not de- ceived by this appearance ; for you have been at the other end of the street, and know that the houses and people are as high a? PAINTING. 359 those at this end: but this is the knowledge of the mind, not the information of the eye ; and a person who had been always blind, and suddenly received sight, would not form any idea of the apparent diminution of objects on account of their distance, but would fancy them equally close to the eye, and less in size : this has been experienced. To find rules by which the exact degree of this apparent dimi- nution may be determined, is the object of our study. Practice must accompany theory at every step: a drawing-board, a set of mathematical instruments, and a knowledge of geometry, at least as much as will enable us to construct the most usual figures, are indispensable. In commencing the practice of Perspective, the boundary of the picture must be considered as an aperture, through which the object to be represented is to be viewed; and the surface of the picture itself as a transparent plane, or sheet of glass, upon which the outlines of the objects seen through it are to be delineated. The extreme distance where the earth, if perfectly level, would appear to meet the sky, gives the horizontal line, which must be as high in the picture as the eye of the spectator. Agreeably to this rule, in drawing from nature, if the view be taken from an elevated situation, the horizontal line must be high in the picture; and if the subject be considerably raised above the eye of the spectator (as a mountain, or castle) the horizontal line should be proportionately low; taking one-third of the height of the picture as the average place of the horizontal line when the scene is level. Now observe, the earth, if level, (perhaps the sea, being subject to no inequalities, is a better example) appears to rise as it re- cedes, till it becomes no longer visible; and the sky, as before observed, descends, till they unite, or mutually vanish in the same line: the horizontal line is then the vanishing line of all level planes parallel to the earth and sky, whether these level planes are above or below the eye. Were you to stand at one end of a long room, and imagine the opposite end to be removed, and the ceiling and floor to be infinitely protracted, the one would appear to descend, and the other to ascend, until the view of both would be lost precisely in the line of the horizon. Leaving the considera- tion of the ceiling and floor for awhile, let us observe the side walls of the room; which, being perpendicular planes, parallel to each other, have one common vanishing line; for, if infinitely extended, they would seem to meet in a line; and the point where this perpendicular line crosses the horizontal line, is called 360 PAINTING. the point of sight, being directly opposite to the eye of the spec- tator. To this important point, all parallel planes, whether per- pendicular, horizontal, or oblique, converge, if they go directly from the spectator towards the horizon. The principal visual ray is the line of sight extending from the eye of die spectator to this point. The base line is the bottom of the picture. The point of distance must now be considered: the meaning of this term is, the distance of the eye from the imaginary tran- sparent plane, or the picture which is to represent it; and this distance must never be less than the length of the picture, because that distance gives the greatest possible angle, within which ob- jects can be distinctly seen at one view. We now proceed to give practical illustrations ; earnestly re- commending to the student to practise the examples upon a larger scale, in preference to merely going over them in the mind. Let it be required to give a representation, in perspective, of a superficial square ; one side of which shall be placed against the base line of the picture (Fig. 1.) The size and proportions of the parallelogram, or boundary line of the picture (Fig. 2,) being fixed upon, the horizontal line (H, H) and the distance of the picture (D) must be determined: on the centre of the horizontal line mark the point of sight (S,) and extend the line either to the right or left, at least far enough to receive the point of distance, which we will assume to be the near- est admissible : viz. the length of the picture, as before observed. Mark this distance on the line (D,) measuring from the point of sight (S,) and let fall a perpendicular from that point to the base line at (B.) Take half one side of the square, and mark it on each side of the point (B ; ) draw lines from these points to the point of sight (S.) The angle thus formed is the perspective representation of the two lines, forming the sides of the square (a a, Fig. 1,) supposing them infinitely extended; for though we know that they are parallel to each other, yet to an eye opposite to the point (S,) and at the given distance, they would appear to approach each other, in receding, until they would vanish PAINTING. 361 at that point. Our present business is to ascertain how much of the base of this triangle is a representation of the square. Rule a line from the point of distance D to the opposite angle 2, and from the point of intersection at 3, draw a horizontal line to the opposite side of the triangle (4) : the figure thus formed will be the true representation required. To avoid complexity of lines, and lead the student gradually forward, we have given but one square, which may be considered a stone of the pavement, or any square object lying on the ground, in which the surface only is considered. To represent a second square, of the same size, lying immediately beyond the first, we have only to consider the line 3 4 as the base line, and by proceeding as before, a second abridge- ment of a square will be found. We now proceed to show how a series of these squares, as a pavement, or chess-board, may be pro- duced (Fig. 3.) Repeat the process, as in fig. 1, upon a larger scale; then divide the base line into as many equal parts as are required, for one side, and from these points draw lines to the point of sight; these lines will cross the oblique line A B ; and hori- zontal lines passed through the intersections, will divide the whole into the number of squares required. Our next lesson is to represent the same figure when placed with one corner towards the eye (Fig. 4.) B The base line, the horizontal line, the point of sight, and per- pendicular from it to the base, are to be prepared as before; the point of distance is then to be set off on the horizon on each side of the point of sight. The same number of parts as before must next be measured on each side of A in the base-line, and from each of these divisions, lines drawn to the point of sight. From die point A, which forms the nearest angle of the figure. 362 PAINTING. lines are then to be drawn to the points of distance B B ; and from the intersections of these lines with those first drawn, rule other lines to the points of distance, and the work is performed. There are various scientific modes of putting a circle, into perspective; we shall give the most simple (Figs. 5 and 6.) It will be obvious, that a circle seen from any other point than one per- pendicular to its centre must appear elliptical. Make a square of the exact size to contain the circle, and describe the circle within it. Div ide the square into a number of smaller squares, and put this reti- culated square into perspective, as in fig. 6, and a correct eye will enable us, by noticing what parts of the cross lines the circle passes through in the square, to describe an ellipsis, in the perspective representation of it, with sufficient accuracy for our purpose. We will now attempt to represent a cube, which, we scarcely need remind our readers, is a solid contained by six equal square sides, in short, a square block ; the squares we have hitherto treated of being merely superficial. The picture being prepared as before, by which we must be always understood to mean, that the horizontal line, points of sight, distance, &c. are determined, we will place three cubes on the base line. one in a direct point of view, and one in each of the oblique views (Fig. 7,) and i; 7 will suppose them (to D simplify the example) of equal size, and below the horizon. In the cube standing in the middle, we have merely to produce a represent- ation of the top, for the sides retreat in a direct line towards the point of sight, and this was precisely our first problem ; for the top of the cubic figure is but a superficial square, of which a b is the base: but the two outside cubes, in proportion as they are placed wider apart, have more or less of one of the sides seen. We will draw lines then from a b of the centre cube ; and from the lower corner of each of those placed to the right and left, to the point of sight C, and oblique lines from a, a, a, to the point of distance D, which will give intersections opposite e e, through which horizontal lines being PAINTING. 363 drawn, the representation of the tops of the cubes will be complete, and we have only to let fall perpendiculars from the points of intersection, and the sides of the cubes are obtained. The leading principles of perspective being rendered familiar by practice, it is not necessary, in every case, to go through the whole process ; the eye becomes correct, and any violation of its rules is offensive to the sight. Examples might be multiplied to any extent; but as it would be impossible to compress within our limits a complete treatise on perspective, we have preferred giving such an introduction as may serve to show, that the difficulties of the really useful part of this science are not so great as they are generally thought to be; and we are sure, that those of our readers who have accompanied us in this short excursion into the terra incognita of the mathematics, will be induced to extend their researches ; for this purpose, we re- commend them to the guidance of Ferguson, Malton, or Dr. Brook Taylor, whose learned and comprehensive works have left little for their successors to do but to familiarize the subject, and divest it of apparent difficulties. In conclusion, we beg most sincerely to recommend the study of the art of drawing to our young readers, not less for the grace- ful and agreeable employment it will afford them, than for its actual utility, which is, indeed, so manifest on many occasions, that we do not scruple to say, a knowledge of drawing ought to be acquired in youth as a practical art, like that of writing; it is, indeed, a kind of short-hand, which is often as superior to writing in clearness, as it is in brevity. It frequently occurs that we find it impossible to convey a correct idea of what we wish to describe, through the medium of words, and after much exertion give up the attempt in despair, when a few moments' exercise of a mo- derate degree of skill in drawing would elucidate our otherwise ineffectual description at a glance. Two strokes of a pencil, says a periodical essayist, will often tell a tale of unknown length, and there are many tales which cannot be told without it: many persons of acute observation, and profound science have ploughed the depths of ocean, scaled the Alps, the Andes, and, as the same lively writer observes, run all over the world, to disennui them- selves, and bring home journals; and when the journals have generated a quarto, or half-a-dozen quartos, nine-tenths, and the better part too, of the story are still to seek! There are beasts, and buildings, and men, and plants and serpents, and gorgons, and chimeras, and countries of all kinds, architecture that we 31 364 PAINTING. are dying to understand, monuments from the time of Nimrod, mountains, whose heads do reach the skies; and what is it all when told! Nothing! And merely for the want of a few scraps of paper, and a half-penny worth of Indian ink, properly distributed over them. It is not to be expected that the acquirement of this art would ever become of such value to our young readers, as to a Parke, a Humboldt, or a Banks, yet it cannot fail to be of impor- tant utility to them, if they think fit to make use of the advantages it affords. A flower, a shell, or almost any natural object, can be much better drawn than described; and a sketch-book filled by one who has not attained extraordinary proficiency in the art of design, will afford a more vivid and accurate series of scenes, than the most finished account of them in the leaves of a journal. MUSIC. When Music, heavenly maid ! was young, While yet in early Greece she sung; The Passions oft, to hear her shell, Throng'd around her magic cell. UNDOUBTEDLY, the most remarkable charac- teristic of the musical taste of the nineteenth century is the intellectual elevation which the art has reached. The love of music has become so identified with feeling, a Quix otic notion, perhaps, that few can be found honest enough to confess an indifference to it through want of ear, and insensibility to melodious and harmonious expression. The undisguised, unblushing hater of music is unknown ; a very level taste, or, rather, affectation of taste, runs through the higher and middle circles; and every evening party, or concert room, furnishes examples of the enraptured amateur, who applauds and yawns by turns. Yet, the very existence of this affectation proves the preponderance of opinion, among the refined part of so- ciety, in favour of music. The early cultivation of the art which is now adopted, we may naturally suppose, will extinguish the class of hearers to which we allude ; as the ear becomes well trained, and a knowledge of the principles of the science is acquired, music will make the proper impression, and not convey the merely indefinite, 366 MUSIC. physical pleasure, which animals are said to derive from it, in com- mon with mankind. Since, then, music is notoriously neither in want of friends nor supporters, all that can be desired, is, that its intellectual dignity shall be generally acknowledged; for where this language of the soul conveys but a momentary gratification, without influence upon the heart or understanding, the object of it is but misunderstood and abused. The three qualifications necessary to the proper enjoyment and appreciation of passionate and expressive music, are, a good ear, a quick sensibility, and a refined taste. There is also a kind of music addressing itself principally to the understanding, such as Canons, or pieces of learned contrivance, practised by the old masters ; who, in their monastic retirement, cfespising ease, gloried only in making their uncouth melodies march in certain directions, measured, if the expression may be allowed, by line and rule. These stiff and formal productions, however, produced their effect: they led the way to coherence of ideas, and symmetry of construction; which excellences, engrafted upon the composi- tions of the moderns, as may be observed in Mozart, Haydn, and Beethoven, has resulted the perfection of thought and feel- ing, that kind of expressive, yet regular music, which is the joint product of the head and heart. To enjoy the masterly works of these authors, should be the ambition of every student. When we mention the necessity of a good ear for this purpose, it may, perhaps, excite a smile, that a quality so obvious, should be alluded to here; a little reflection will, however, convince even those who have made some proficiency in the practical part of the art, that the observation is not beneath attention. A child, who catches up all the tunes it hears, shows that strong musical predisposition which, later in life, secures the ear from being injured by the many wrong notes, or passages too flatly or sharply sung, or played upon a neglected piano-forte, which vitiate more imperfect organs. The habit of allowing an ordinary ear to accommodate itself to anything out of tune, is highly mischievous; for though it may not destroy the whole pleasure to be derived from music, it blunts the fine edge of enjoy- ment ; and it is astonishing how many public performers are de- fective in this particular. While, therefore, the first species of ear may be left to itself, the second should receive care and edu- cation; for the neglect of comparing sounds, and of examining the nicety of intervals, in youth, produces, at last, that thorough obtuseness to music, which is often discoverable in persons of a MUSIC. 367 middle age. Those who are conscious of any defective intonation in singing, should immediately take pains to rectify it, and not come to the hasty and despairing conclusion, that nature has withheld from them certain faculties. Untuned piano-fortes, and a random way of using the voice, without proving the truth of the intervals, lead, at last, to a total depravity of die ear. Madame Malibran and Mademoiselle Sontag have a perfection, with respect to exactitude of pitch, in their singing, which has been scarcely before heard in England ; and such is the impression created by their performance, that the propriety of training the ear, as well as the voice, is no longer doubted. The piano-forte is the grammar of music. As all those who would be good players should be ac- quainted with the best styles of singing, so it is of the highest advantage to a vocal performer to be well initiated upon a keyed instrument ; this gives a knowledge of modulation, and relish for harmony; in a word, it insures the confidence of science, without diminishing the natural feeling. It would be no difficult task to show that those singers, who trust to unassisted nature, are apt to fall into vulgarity: a mere ballad, may certainly be thus achieved; but in higher attempts, the mind and cultivated taste of the performer must appear. Indeed, whatever may be said of genius and natural aptitude for music, it may be asserted, that nothing admirable was ever accomplished, by composer or performer, without great pa- tience and the most persevering application. Buffon has truly remarked of this talent for study, that it is in itself genius ; and careful study, that is, not the mere routine of mechanical exercises for the fingers or voice, a drudgery which often does more harm than good, but a steady practice, in which the head directs the labours of both, is more frequently wanting among us than mu- sical feeling. The first requisite for a pupil is a good master, who should be selected as a man of temper, experience, and rather of tact in explaining and illustrating, than a fine performer. Much depends upon attention to minute points in the outset of the study of piano- forte playing ; for injudicious instructions, at this time, produce the worst consequences. Let none but a master superintend the position of the pupil's hand upon the instrument, or direct the motion of her fingers. A governess may be allowed to attend upon the practice, and see die master's injunctions obeyed; but it is in die highest degree injudicious to allow her, as is generally done, to give the first lessons; for the foundation of a bad and indistinct execution is frequently laid by diose who are diligent enough in 31* 368 MUSIC. practising, merely because as much care is not taken in raising the fingers from the keys, as in striking them. Nothing is more common than to see four or five keys, in the playing of a scale, held down at the same time by young ladies, who read music with great facility. This violation of harmony, intolerable to well- regulated ears, results from want of attention to the preliminary exercises. Difficulties in the practical part of music have, of late, increased in such undue proportion to effects, that none but those who have received very early instruction may emulate the bril- liancy and articulation of the fashionable performers, Kalkbrenner, Pixis, and Moscheles. However, the music-mad passages of some modern piano-forte composers are not worth the trouble of con- quering; and though early youth is to be recommended as the season for undergoing the process of strengthening the hand, and rendering the fingers independent, it should be with a view to the beautiful and intelligible compositions of Dussek, Cramer, and Hummel, or of Mozart and Beethoven; and not for the sake of the ordinary parade pieces, of which the music-shops are so prolific. Those who have not had the advantage of commencing with a good master, at nine or ten years of age, should endeavour to give a more exquisite polish to all they can accomplish, which may be generally more pleasing to hearers than the most rapid execution unaccompanied by taste. Those who are deficient in confidence, will always find a resource in duetts; which, while they offer greater ease in the execution, produce a fulness and richness of effect, to which one performer is quite inadequate. As the taste gradually forms, in proportion as the pupil becomes acquainted with a succession of good authors, it is of the highest importance that, in the choice of pieces, the real piano-forte style should be preserved; and that flimsy extracts from operas, ballets, &c. should be avoided. Diligent attention at concerts, and obser- vation of the manner of fine performers, are efficient means of improvement. Mr. J. B. Cramer, the immediate successor to the excellences of his friend Dussek, is the great master of the expres- sive and singing style of the piano-forte, and the most admirable model that can be placed before the student. His manner of drawing the tone from the instrument, so different from the jarring noise and thumping of the keys affected by the new school of concerto players, cannot be too highly praised, or strenuously imitated. In all that he has composed, there is to be found deep knowledge of harmony, joined to exquisite melody of the most fresh and natural vein: but the great excellence of his productions MUSIC. 369 is, that they are calculated to display all the effects which are peculiar to the instrument. Moscheles is a sound and fanciful com- poser, but of the new style, in which expression is too much over- looked, as is also the genius of the piano-forte. Novelty and ingenuity are the characteristics of this author's productions; which, indeed, we are compelled to admire, though we find little in them to charm. The piano-forte works of Hummel unite the ex- cellences of Cramer and Moscheles : that is, they present all the smoothness and harmonious blendings of intervals of the one, with the bold extensions and abrupt arpeggio passages of the other. Yet, in style, Hummel is peculiar; fancy and feeling are, with him, united in an extraordinary degree ; there is a free extemporaneous air about his productions, which puts the hearer in mind of the careless moods of Mozart or Beethoven. Supposing the pupil to have attained a pretty good execution, it may be proposed that the studies shall be finished by this pro- gression of authors: Mozart, CJementi, Dussek, Beethoven, and Cramer's more difficult compositions, with dementi's preludes and exercises, Gradus ad Parnassum, and Cramer's studies, and the difficult productions of distinguished composers, ancient and modern. If any would still proceed and form a taste for the loftiest depart- ments of the art, the works of Handel and Sebastian Bach form the proper termination. It should be strongly impressed upon die mind of the student, that what is attempted should be well executed; and that it is better to stop short half-way with a neat and rounded execution, than to risk great difficulties with a lame or heavy finger. As the time of many young ladies is claimed by other accomplishments as well as music, it may be proper to remind them, that the greatest labour does not always secure a pleasing performer. As an instance of the effect of strong natural taste, we will only mention, that we have heard some of the andante move- ments of Haydn's sinfonias played by a gentleman whose abilities in fingering would never help him through a scale, yet so just was the expression of this amateur, so finished his embellishment, and so delicate his touch, that, in the result, it appeared to the hearer as though a professor were at the instrument. Part of the false taste which has been introduced by popular singers and performers into the music of the present day, is a capricious dragging of the time (tempo rubato) from a notion, which is the very reverse of truth, that an adherence to time destroys expression. Mozart has well combated this error: he distinctly states in his letters, that time is the most difficult and necessary part of music, and 370 MUSIC. he prides himself upon always being accurate in it. It is not necessary that the mechanical process of counting and beating should be remarkable in performance; a good master will en- courage the habit from the first, and the student will find, that to mark the proportions of rhythm soon becomes an involuntary action of the mind. The incautious use of the pedals should be guarded against, not only because the sounds being sustained, irrelevant harmonies are often heard in confusion, to the annoyance and injury of the ear, but because this scheme for covering poor execution by noise, is now generally understood; or if such be not the interpretation, the frequent employment of the pedals is, at least, set down to bad taste. Mozart and Clemen ti, who sustained the character of the most finished and expressive performers possible, needed no aid of pedals to heighten the effect of their compositions and execution. At the same time that the fingers are trained, the eye accus- tomed to prompt service, and the ready answer of the hand ensured by the practice of new music at frequent intervals, it is expedient that the pupil should be acquainted with figured basses, and the inversions and roots of chords. This study, which is called thorough bass, has, we know, a frightfully harsh sound in ladies' ears ; but it is really so simple and trifling, compared with the drudgery of musical practice, that we can only compare the acquirement of this knowledge to learning a common rule in arithmetic. A little book, entitled The Thorough Bass Primer, by Burrowes, explains so concisely the elements of the musical short-hand, that no one who takes the trouble to read that work, will complain of having been decoyed into unnecessary trouble. Thorough bass, it is true, leads a little way into the science of composition, but not into any of those abstruse parts, the comprehension of which depending upon innate propensities, would of course make any attempt to ex- plain them to the general learner absurd. Under the direction of a competent master, the steady and careful pupil, possessing ordinary intelligence and faculties, will certainly reach correctness of performance. This point gained, the next endeavour should be to understand the intention of a composer; to feel out the just degree of force to be given to any emphatic note or group of notes ; to diminish and increase the sound in proper places; to discover melodies in the bass and inner parts as well as in the treble ; and, lastly, to see, in the mind's eye, all the symmetry of structure in a composition. This taste is to be acquired; but its acquirement will be slow in those cases where MUSIC. 371 the pupil plays continually alone ; while it may be greatly facilitated by playing, in small parties, such music as the airs of Mozart, ar- ranged for the piano-forte, harp, flute, and violoncello ; Beethoven and Mozart's symphonies; Mozart's concertos, and Romberg's symphonies, of which, excellent arrangements by Novello, Watts, J. B. Cramer, and Hummel, are to be obtained. It is the richness of harmony, and the constant flow of many parts, which refine the ear and quicken general apprehension. For this purpose, also, regular compositions, like the sonatas and symphonies of Haydn and Mozart, which are not only pictures in point of design, but contain the purest harmony, are greatly preferable to popular fantasias, which, from their irregularity, are trifles in the estimation of composers, and, by their licentious combinations, essentially injure the ear. It is wise to lay as good a foundation for raising the taste, as for the mechanism of execution: when the judgment has become settled, and the natural resolutions of harmo- nies fixed in the mind, we may listen to the wildest passages of Rossini or Meyerbeer, and even be amused with their novelty, but our principles will not be disturbed. Nothing is to be gained from that kind of music, termed harmonized airs and glees, with sym- phonies and accompaniments, put forth by the shops for the sake of those amateurs who, having learned but little, occasionally in- dulge in joining a second or a bass with the ladies at an evening party. National melodies, provided their character be faithfully preserved, are useful and agreeable; but the generality of vocal pieces, such as Troubadour Airs, Lays of Minstrels, and the like, usually served up on such occasions, should be rather conde- scended to than encouraged ; for though we are bound to humour the fancies of our friends, we must be cautious that a little smooth harmony, or trite melody, do not impose itself upon us as the con- summation of art, and that our own taste, instead of making ad- vances, do not sicken and retrograde. From thoroughly bad music there is nothing to fear; we question whether it may not sharpen the relish for good authors ; but mawkish middling com- positions, when frequently listened to, are decidedly insidious and hurtful. 372 MUSIC. , VOCAL MUSIC. It is a mistake too general among amateurs, that, as singing is in a manner giving vent to the feelings, unaccompanied by any visible mechanical operation, they should make the ear their sole guide; with such, science is superfluous and practice unnecessary. That those are best calculated to succeed as singers, who have great liveliness of ear, accompanied by a musical memory, there can be no doubt; but it often occurs, that such natural advantages are obstacles to perfection. A good course of practice on the piano or harp, should be accomplished before the solfa is commenced: this is the plan usually adopted on the continent, and, with what result, the admirable singing listened to, during the opera season of 1828-9, plainly evinced. The science of singers will cease to become a by-word for laughter, when the same system becomes general in England. How much has that word science, with regard to singing, been abused! We have heard it attributed to the vilest flourishes upon wrong harmonies, and to many other absurdities upon which the theatrical public no longer waste their applause. The vulgar graces and embellishments so called, copied from the theatre, and heard at second-hand in every drawing-room a few years back, made sound judges despair of the success of music in England: but private performers have subsequently been taught to look elsewhere for models, and the style of the theatre is now left to the admiration of mechanics, and the imitation of street mu- sicians. Even of professional singers, the education has, in Eng- land, been hitherto extremely superficial, and it is not surprising that the pupils of such masters should be scarcely better informed. A fine voice being held here, according to the Italian proverb, ninety-nine out of a hundred requisites for a singer, all that the master did to fit his pupil for the public, was to strengthen it, to teach a shake, a few cadences, and to get a half-a-dozen parts in operas, acquired by the labour of infinite repetition. The pupil then, knowing no more of harmony than the chords which ac- company the scale, and those upon no certain principles, became instructer in his turn, and daily thought himself fulfilling his duty to parents, by teaching their children the turns and graces to a few fashionable songs. Indeed, ignorance of music is still so remarka- ble among singing-masters, more especially Italian professors, most MUSIC. 373 of whom are patronized for some eccentricity of person, manners, or habits, that it is vain to expect from them a fundamental and systematic course of instruction. Among the exceptions to what we have just advanced, are two splendid ones: the composer Coccia, who has just left England for sometime; and Liverati, who has made excellent pupils ; both these are well-grounded musicians, and, therefore, bestow not too much care on externals. We would not have any of our readers repress an inclination to the study of singing from diffidence on the score of the voice: daily practice will almost create a tone where none existed ; and, after all, if the defect of quality can be compensated by an exuberance of feeling and good taste, it will delight infinitely more than those powerful voices which, in unskilful performers, are perfectly over- whelming and disagreeable; when, indeed, the loudness of the voice makes any variation from the pitch, or misplaced emphasis, more distressing to the hearer. A radical defect of ear is, then, the only real objection to the cultivation of singing, since voice may be acquired by artificial means ; and as it is impossible that a true love of music can exist without a fondness for vocal melody, we hope to be rendering a service to our fair readers by showing them how easily, without extraordinary natural gifts, they may please themselves and others. Want of judgment or self-appreciation is the cause \vliy private performances often displease ; and those who follow the prevailing fashion in music, without considering their natural inclination, or how far their voice or their accustomed practice may have fitted them for peculiar imitation, generally excite disadvan- tageous comparison. This is never the case with any who sing what they feel strongly impelled to. In the first place, we would have the natural compass strictly adhered to, and thus all those forced, harsh tones, which generally lead to the utter ruin of the voice, will be avoided ; no mezzo-soprano should be allowed to scream up to C, or high treble descend to A; we would have no sweet-voiced placid girl attempt a scena that demanded the impassioned declamation of a Pasta in Medea; nor any, excellent in a ballad, attempt Rode's variations, to remind us of the perfect articulation of Mademoiselle Sontag. Few have the discrimina- tion to select that species of music which is perfectly accordant with their disposition, as well as within their powers; and it is notorious in public singers, that many have gone through part after part without any decided success, who have at length gained it by a casual experiment. 374 MUSIC. Remembering, as was just observed, the natural limits of the voice, the diligent student should unremittingly follow up the practice of the solfa, beginning piano, swelling out the voice and diminishing it again, in as long notes as a judicious economy of the breath will allow ; making the exactness of the pitch and intonation the subject of the most vigilant attention. The tendency of the voice is to sink, and the performer is less likely to be aware of such acci- dents than the audience. When it is remembered how exquisitely delicate is the structure of the organ, and that its intonation is liable to be injured by the slightest agitation of the spirits, or nervous dread, to which the best singers are subject in performing before certain companies, little need be said on the necessity for care in the outset. Previous practice on the piano-forte will greatly quicken the improvement, and render the acquirements solid; and an instrument always kept in the perfection of tune, must be the standard of truth, and the umpire between the ear and the voice. So much, with respect to compass and tone, depends upon the general health, that the scale will be often lengthened or curtailed several notes, in proportion as it is good or bad ; but as it is in- jurious at any time to fatigue the voice by over-application, it is especially so to exert it, at particular times, to reach extreme notes with difficulty. After daily practice of the scale, and the attainment of readiness in hitting distances or intervals, it will be highly advantageous to the young performer to take the lower part in duetts, or the middle voice in trios : this prevents too great a reliance being placed upon the upper melody, facilitates the reading of music, gives confidence, and forms a good preparation for singing to the accompaniments of modern music. The voice should, as quickly as possible, divest itself of the assistance of those go-cart and leading-string accom- paniments, by which popular song-writers enervate the taste, and destroy the capacity for improvement ; for if the pupil be well ac- customed to read and to keep time, it matters little what goes forward on the instrument or in the orchestra : and here, instead of a barren accompaniment, with the melody on the top of it, in unison with the voice and helping it all the way, we may have our en- joyment doubled, in listening to the fancy and ingenuity of the composer, as they are employed in setting off his prominent subject. There is a strict analogy between the light and shadow and the other resources by which an historical painter draws attention to his principal figure, and the use of varied accompaniments to a grand air: they are, doubtless, to be used with discretion; but we MUSIC. 375 cannot listen to the beautiful phrases in Mozart's accompaniments, or to those in Beethoven's Cantatas, of which the one "Ah! Per- fido," will instantly occur to the mind of the concert-frequenting amateur, and persuade ourselves that they injure vocal melody. Ignorance and vanity were the causes why many public singers, at first, set their faces against free accompaniments; because they were compelled to sing in strict time ; to learn the music of their parts thoroughly, which their want of habit in reading rendered difficult; to leave out cadences and flourishes; and to share the public attention with the performers in the orchestra. All that we urge tends to this, that neglect of laying a founda- tion of musical knowledge, and too great dependence on the feeling or ear, hinder many from becoming fine performers; and these errors, therefore, cannot be too zealously combated. In Mrs. Bil- lington, there was an example of the wonderful effects produced by industry and cultivation, upon natural genius. This lady was as fine a piano-forte performer as a singer, but she had the good sense to keep the knowledge of her skill in the back-ground ; because she knew that the public would not believe such a phenomenon of perfection, in all the styles of vocal and instrumental music, could possibly exist ; and that, as she showed excellence as a player, the public would detract from her merits as a singer. One instance of the talent of this extraordinary woman is worth recording. Mrs. Billington proposed to bring forward, for her benefit, Mozart's Opera, La Clemenza di Tito, which had never been heard in this country, and of which there was only one manuscript score in the kingdom. This copy was in the possession of his present Majesty, then Prince of Wales, who kindly sent it to the Opera-House for her use. The whole band, the singers, and chorus, were anxious to hear the contents of so precious a novelty as a manuscript opera of Mozart; and Mrs. Billington gratified them by sitting down to the piano-forte, playing the accompaniments from the score, and singing the principal part that of Vitellia. In this way she went through the whole of the opera, from beginning to end giving Mozart's expres- sion and character so admirably, at sight, that the audience were in a state of enthusiasm no less with what they heard, than with admir- ation of her wonderful powers, and fine musical mind. If industry, and knowledge of the mechanical part of music, were the means of perfecting a Billington, we may conclude, that they are equally cal- culated to make the most of the poorest voice. Students should not become impatient of practice, because the tone does not flow freely, or appear of a good quality, during their first attempts: such is the 32 376 MUSIC. case with every unused instrument, every violin not played upon, or flute not breathed through; but perseverance in the rules of art will soften imperfections and correct defects. The influence of the temper upon tone deserves much consi- deration. Habits of querulousness, or ill-nature, will communicate a cat-like quality to the singing, as infallibly as they give a peculiar character to the speaking voice. That there really exist amiable tones is not a fanciful chimera. In the voice there is no deception ; it is, to many, the index of the mind, as well as of moral qualities ; and it may be remarked, that the low, soft tones of gentle and amiable beings, whatever their musical endowments may be, seldom fail to please; besides which, the singing of ladies indi- cates the cultivation of their taste generally, and the embellish- ment of the mind. Shakspeare felt that there is a reciprocal charm reflected from music on the singer, and from the singer on music, when he wrote that beautiful comparison of the sound of a loved voice to Ditties highly penned, Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, With ravishing division to her lute. For an instant, compare the vulgarity of a ballad-singer, her repulsive tone of voice and hideous graces, to the manner of an equally uncultivated singer in good society; or watch the treat- ment of a pretty melody from a concert-room at the west-end of London, until it reaches the ears from under the parlour-window, and observe how it gains something new r of vulgarity with every fresh degradation: the discrepancy between the copy and the original air becomes, at length, ludicrous. The pretty air, " O, no, we never mention her!" will serve to illustrate our observation. Where several young ladies, sisters or friends, reside in one family, there is an opportunity for bringing the social harmony of voices to a kind of perfection, which casual intercourse can never lead to. In a country life, the accomplishment of music is espe- cially graceful. What can better befit morning or evening society in an arbour, or in the shady recesses of a park or pleasure- ground, than an Italian arietta of Millico or Paesiello, aided by a few touches of the extempore guitar 1 ? A social glee, sung by heart, may not render the labours of the embroidery less interest- ing, or ill occupy the interval of reading aloud. One of the chief delights of ladies' work is, that it so little engrosses the thoughts: while their fingers are mechanically employed, they may, in a MUSIC. 377 hundred ways, entertain themselves, and those about them, as well with the music of their voices as with the merry conceits of their wit and fancy. To resume our practical hints; as it is necessary that solo singing should have a considerable degree of polish in the execu- tion, we would recommend the young pupil to the choice of slow and expressive airs of the old Italian school, as the best to initiate die voice. Some of the airs in Artaxerxes, composed by Arne, in imitation of the Italian style, are excellent for this purpose ; as are also the charming canzonets by Millico. A close and brilliant shake is so necessary an ornament to many styles of vocal music, that the daily practice of it (taking care that it be very slow at first, and quickened by degrees) is indispensable. Avoid any attempts at brilliant passages, or show songs, until your solfeggi have put it in your power to accomplish them with ease and dis- tinctness. To swell the number of those who have worn out the patience of whole parties of innocent, unoffending people, by the everlasting " Di Piacer," is not a commendable ambition. The public, from the time of Farinelli downwards, has consented to applaud divisions; and, to a certain degree, the study of them is advisable, as they give fluency and power in dramatic music ; but arpeggio passages, like the celebrated variation to Rode's air, so inimitably executed by Mademoiselle Sontag, serve, in themselves, no purpose as music. Above all, they should not be attempted in an early stage of progress, nor until the ear has attained the nicest accuracy. Expression is the principal and characteristic charm of the voice, but propriety of expression demands fitness to a particular style ; for instance, nothing can be more disagreeable than to hear Italian Opera music sung with the frigidity of the English style, except it be to hear a native ballad overlaid with foreign orna- ments and frippery. A thorough acquaintance with the Italian language, and diligent observation of the best performers at the Opera, are to be recommended to those whose taste leads them in that direction; for it is in vain to think of giving, even in private, the spirit of Opera music, from the mere notes, sung with an inflexible face. Like the renowned Miserere of Allegri, which, performed out of the Sistine chapel at Rome, without the usual .-olemnities, appeared but a common-place, second-rate affair, Opera music, without the requisite warmth of manner, becomes incongruous, if not an elaborate absurdity. Conceive the sly, im- pertinent address of the knavish Leporello to Elvira, " Madamina," 378 MUSIC. given with all the gravity of visage which a churchwarden wear? at a parish-meeting, and the portrait, however it may appear exaggerated into caricature, is not without an original. It is, indeed, seldom that in England we find any strong natural apti- tude for the lighter kinds of dramatic music, which require action : we are more prone to indulge in witty speeches and satire, than in arch looks and bodily gesticulation. To succeed perfectly in such music as the airs of the Beggar's Opera, and the well- known Scotch and Irish melodies, of kindred simplicity and pathos, demands, generally, a voice of great native beauty, and a refined and tender soul. The impetuosity, which well befits the Italian style, is no profitable qualification for this department of vocal music. Handel's oratorio songs require, principally, a smooth, beautifully-toned voice, the utmost conception of the devotional feeling of the composer, a beautiful crescendo and decrescendo, and a perfect shake. Perhaps there is nothing in music which approaches so nearly to our imagination of the angelical, as the tones of a beautiful female voice in some of the prayer-replete songs of Handel. Let us recommend Mrs. W. Knyvett as an example of perfection in this style, as Miss Stephens is in that of ballads and national melodies. Whatever be the flexibility which practice bestows upon the voice, it is requisite that the time for displaying it should be regulated by the judgment; for one of the most frequent, but least tolerable offences in singing, is to break the continuity and injure the sentiment of a fine air, by the unmeaning succession of notes, termed roulade, but this false taste is already on the decline. Rapid and distinct articulation is never misplaced in a bravura ; and the judicious performer will always select such movements as will place the acquirements in a favourable light, without detract- ing from the reputation of the taste. The famed singer, Signora Guari, when Mozart, then a youth, was travelling through Parma, and creating the liveliest astonishment by his compositions and performance, invited him to her house, and sang to him some airs, which, though not of that kind most calculated to charm such a musician, excited his admiration to so great a degree, that he wrote down some of the passages she executed, lest his account should be deemed incredible. It is recorded by Mozart, to add to our surprise, that the higher the notes ascended, the softer the singer gave them; which is exactly the reverse of what is usually to be remarked in such exhibitions. The following extract from one passage of the bravura, sung on this occasion MUSIC. 379 by Signora Guari, is an example of the florid in its proper place, and a lasting monument of the capacity of the human voice in its highest stage of improvement : We have but a few words more to say on the mechanism of the voice, before we recommend the pupil to her diligence. Let the words be well pronounced, and the tone flow directly from the chest, without receiving the slightest taint or peculiarity of quality from the head or throat in its passage : this is a point upon which some of our most celebrated English singing-masters have shown great negligence ; it will, therefore, be prudent to choose such a teacher as has already made good pupils. In order to found the taste upon the principles of a purely vocal style, we must turn to those treasures of melody which are discoverable in the Italian and German operas of the latter half of the last century, in Sarti, Gluck, Paesiello, Cirnarosa, and Mozart. Rossini is the author now earliest put upon the music- desk, but injudiciously; for though he has composed, here and there, exquisite subjects, his novelties of air are made up, too frequently, of surprising, quaint, or instrumental phrases; and it is only in compliance with the over-anxious desire of friends to see improvement (as they imagine it,) that pupils are hurried into such extravagances, before they well know what song means. Music of this kind accustoms the hearer not to look closely to the union of sense with sound, but to be satisfied with any words to any tune ; and, consequently, to lower the intellectual standard of the art. One test of the genuine goodness and meaning of an air, is its liability to be injured by additions, or decorations, at the will of the performer; this is seldom the case with compositions in the modern school of Italian music: with Mercadante, Pacini, and others of that stamp, sing how you will, decorate at pleasure, at pleasure add, omit, or do what you list, and the music will sound none the worse; for we cannot spoil what is already bad, or turn into nonsense that which has no meaning. These com- posers are like bungling novel-writers, who shroud their imperfect ideas and half-conceptions under the obscurity of words, and palm 32* 380 MUSIC. their own stupidity upon the reader. It would be folly to institute any comparison between the crude notions of such pretenders, and the school of Gluck and Mozart, whose crotchets aud quavers, if there were a language refined enough, it would be no difficult matter to translate into words. But let us return to our rulers of the passions, and to the young days of Melody, when she appears graceful, free and natural, re- minding us of the wood-nymphs and goddesses of the poets, and not of the meretricious, bedizened creature she has become. The province of vocal melody is but ill-fulfilled when the sounds penetrate no farther than the ear ; but sufficiently so, when they convey some emotion, from one human being to another, agreeably to the nature of the expression which the poetry or sentiment requires. The secret of the musician's labour is a grand one, as unfathomable in its source as any mystery of nature; we feel assured that there is no deception in it; we readily acknowledge the difference between airs of a tender, melancholy, or joyous character ; but upon what principle they become so, and by what process their affinity to certain sentiments is discovered, is a puzzling question, indeed, one that cannot be resolved. It is a curious consideration, that intervals, at a certain distance, aided by certain accompaniments, shall give an air of dignity to the singer, or that the very soul of tenderness shall dwell in certain appogiature : but difficult as it is to comprehend the source of the composer's inspiration, this intelligible music furnishes the easiest, as well as the most honourable and profitable employment of the student. Still more interesting is it to trace the operations of the musician in characters of a mixed expression ; as in the poor mad Nina of Paesiello ; or where several persons of different characters are brought into one piece to contrast with and relieve each other, as in the celebrated quartett of II Don Giovanni, " Non ti fidar." In neither of these compositions are the proper bounda- ries of the voice overstepped: though nothing can be more dis- similar than the melodies, yet each has the proper vocal character However, there are some excellences of singing which are cer- tainly more worthy of attainment than others, and at the head of all may be placed die tender and pathetic. Certain singers are gifted with voices of a quality peculiarly fitted to affect in these styles; others with a sweet and smiling tone (like Caradori's,) which seldom makes impression. The pupil must, as we said before, be greatly guided by inclination ; but we would recommend, that the approval or disapproval of such music as " Che faro," in MUSIC. 381 Gluck's Orfeo, or the duett " Deh prendi," in Mozart's Clemenza di Tito, should decide whether the musical sentiment is really strong in the hearer or not. The abundance of exquisite melodies, which are to be found in the hymns to the Virgin, and other parts of the Catholic service, are calculated, next to these, to lead to great purity of taste : they are slow and graceful in the move- ment, and require that nicety of swelling and diminution of tone which indicate feeling. But to avoid the extremity of vulgarity in musical taste, the student must eschew the greater part of English songs; we mean those that are born and die in a day: they are generally replete with bad accent, bad harmony, and common melody. The more popular the song, the worse it is sure to be; there is always some new fashion in the melody of songs, which strikes the fancy for a week or two, and is then thrown aside and forgotten forever. Except the airs of Mr. Bishop, there are hardly any, of native produce, calculated to have a favourable influence upon the taste ; and as there exists, at present, no really English style, the less attention given to this class of music the better. OF MUSICAL STYLE, EMBELLISHMENT, &c. The use of graces and minor embellishments is one of those results of a well-directed taste, the nice application of whfrh pro- duces style in performance. In all the compositions of the solid masters, Haydn, Beethoven, Mozart, much is left to the imagination and feeling of the performer ; for it has been justly supposed that the writing of every individual note, and the marking of every transient shake or beat, would lead to so mechanical a style of exe- cution, that melody would become tame and poor; and being des- titute of all warmth in the manner of the player, would never reach the heart of the hearer. It partly accounts for the popularity of Rossini, that he was the first who wrote embellishments to his melodies at length : thus putting it in the power of many, who had neither imagination nor sensibility, to imitate those qualities in others. He, consequently, enlisted a host of inferior artists in the ranks of his admirers. The distances in a melody are rendered so much more smooth and elegant by the turns, appogiature, and other graces resulting from a refined perception, that the use of them is indispensable. The player must be thoroughly acquainted with the character of the music she performs, or it is impossible that she can awaken those feelings in her auditory which the com- 382 MUSIC. poser intended to excite ; and the same rule applies equally to the singer. Every kind of movement, whether an allegro, an adagio, or a simple minuet, has its peculiarities ; and the same embellish- ments cannot be used in common between them: for those which may be beautifully applied in one place, become, in another, abso- lutely injurious. The principle of the best masters of composition, will serve here as an excellent guide to the student: they never repeat a phrase of melody harmonized in the same manner as they gave it at first; therefore, when ornament is most necessary, it will be generally found to be on the recurrence of a musical phrase. An over-anxiety to give the highest possible finish to a composition has led many into the very evil of tameness and want of effect that they wished to avoid: coolness and confidence are necessary here to temper the warmth of our fancy; indeed, the conflicting qua- lities of an ardent feeling and sober judgment, are so seldom found to exist in any but those of great experience, practice, and command of mechanical power, that we should advise a very slow and cau- tious progress in the formation of style. We will suppose the harp or piano-forte performer to have at- tained all that skill which ensures correct performance ; the next degree of excellence is to round off what may, by too great abrupt- ness, seem sharp and angular; to suit the style accurately to the species of composition, and to add whatever is required of the taste- ful or ornamental. This is, by some, termed beautiful performance, as distinguished from the expressive, but the line of demarca- tion is harldy perceptible. Expression, says an eminent authority, relates immediately to the feelings, and denotes in the player a capacity and facility of displaying by his performance, and urging to the heart of his audience, whatever the composer has addressed to die feelings in his productions, and which the performer must also feel after him; points which can be intimated only by general terms, having but little precision in them, and which usually are of service to those only who have these things already within them : if such be the case, it will follow that expression may, indeed, be awakened, but, properly speaking, that it can neither be taught nor acquired ; it dwells within the soul itself, and must be trans- fused directly from it into the performance. Beauty of performance, though much that relates to it may be explained by general rules, is too closely connected with the ex- pressive to be taught or acquired perfectly. In proportion as a master is exquisitely alive to the beauty of song, it becomes difficult for him to say conscientiously to his pupil, " make this or tha\ MUSIC. 383 singer your model: 3 ' if such could be done, piano-forte players, harp players, and singers, might greatly shorten the road of their studies ; but, unfortunately, though the pure vocal style contains the soul of music, the idea of melody is a much purer essence than can be found in the practice of the best singer existing. We would rather say, " listen to the style of Willman on the clarionet," as a model for expressive singing. The pupil must form that for her self, from her own observation and feeling, of which she has no copy : the comparison of a great composer's most frequent phrases and of their general expression, will serve to show what he most valued; and the agreement and variation of the eminent musicians of all nations and times will form a tolerable standard of musical beauty : yet still there must be a capacity for feeling that beauty. Rules, though here indeterminate, may be useful ; and, at the least, protect from glaring error. The allegro must be characterised by the brilliancy and energy, resulting from strength of the hand, and elasticity of the fingers: it must be strongly defined in its princi- pal features; and whatever melodious passages may occur, they must not alter the time so strikingly (now the usual license of modern music) as to leave the nature of the movement in any doubt. The delivery of the adagio is directly opposed to that of the allegro ; for here the notes, instead of being crisp and brilliant, require to be well sustained, and the intervals well connected, in imitation of the most polished vocal style. In this movement it will be especially requisite that there should exist the acutest sen- sibility in the fingers themselves, extending to the very tips, that the necessary pressure may be given with the minutest accuracy ; and that the contact may be varied from delicacy to force at plea- sure. The embellishments introduced in this style must be sparing, that the solemnity and purity of the melody be not overloaded with finery, and vulgarized; those that are used should be more slow and connected than in the allegro, and the whole should be marked by greater effusion and tenderness. The piano-forte and harp are instruments which, from their nature, are calculated to lead people into an inexpressive mode of performance. Modern improvements in the execution, which have resulted from the experiments of the great performers abroad, have, at length, elicited a manner of singing on the keys of a piano- forte ; and instructions upon the mode of practice become neces- sary, as the method of arriving at this excellence is obscure. The harp is still more deficient in portamento than the piano ; but 384 MUSIC. La Barre is remedying this defect; a project which, twenty years ago, would have been thought chimerical. In music, the principal beauty rests upon two grand points: continuity of tone, and swell ; and where these are defective in the nature of instruments, art must supply them. How much a poor monotonous harmony contents the ear, when the gradations are beautiful and delicate, we may note in the instance of the ^Eolian harp, which, moved by the wantonness of the passing gust, is listened to with pleasure, though it repeat nothing more than the same sounds: and we may observe how continuity and flow of sound stand instead of expression in the tones of an organ ; where, though there be no augmentation or diminution, we cannot help being affected by the mere quality of the sound. When, then, we hear a fine composition, finely played on a fine instrument, we have a very unusual conjunction of favourable circumstances. So much rests with the humour of the performer, so much on that of the hearer, for there are numberless causes to interfere with an enjoyment that depends upon the nerves, that we hold the highest gratification of music, to a refined taste, to be matter of rare occurrence. It is, however, the more relished when it comes; and it follows, from the very nature of intense pleasures, that they must be rare. This ought not to be made an argument for the neglect in cultivating the powers : we know well that the little girl who attempts " God save the King," is as much enchanted by her efforts, as she is, perhaps, ten years after, by the playing of a concerto; yet has she thus far gained by practice and knowledge that she values her own dexterity at little, the music itself is after- wards everything. In the early practice, the accomplishment of the means gives the enjoyment, later (in those who have musical gifts,) the end is esteemed: as it is the constant aim of art to improve what is beautiful in nature, so it is the end of taste to heighten our pleasure, and carry forward the principles into a per- fection which most desire and expect to discover, a faith most conducive to our lasting attachment to the beautiful or scientific, for if we believe that we see and hear constantly all that is pos- sible, our likings will soon dwindle into indifference. A concert room is, perhaps, the best place to acquire a relish for full harmony, and to understand the effects of light and shade in compositions, which cannot be comprehended but by a power of reading from score, or hearing the instruments as they are combined and placed in relief by the composer ; but for solo pieces, and for MUSIC. 385 getting into the heart of a good composition, or style of playing, the private acquaintance of a fine performer is preferable. That state of formality arising from the consciousness of being under the gaze of the public, does not dispose either the player or singer to give way to the feelings : the daring attempts which often lead to perfection are not risked, where the consequences of failure would be more detrimental than those of success advantageous. The hearer, too, is in a formal state ; more prepared for criticism than for pleasure. In private, the best commentary on a good passage is the smile of a masterly player: how sweetly does such a silent admonition sink into the mind, and how soon do we learn to enjoy by the force of sympathy ! Perfect freedom from affectation is a great charm in performance, though it ought to be a negative virtue. The ordinary process by which players would indicate the great effect their author produces upon them, is, nodding of the head, distorting and writhing of the body, lifting up of the hands, as though the keys were hot, with many other absurdities, which it would be well they could see in a glass. In playing concertantes, or pieces with accompaniments, inde- cision of time at the outset induces a wavering and uncertain manner throughout; it is tormenting to the listener, and increases, tenfold, the difficulty of the accompanying performers; it be therefore, strongly to be recommended, that the time should be well decided in the mind of the principal player before the piece be commenced. If the piece be of the bravura kind, let the move- ment be spirited, but not over-driven; for extreme velocity is generally resorted to as a covering for indistinct execution : para- doxical as it may seem, there are many players, who, if they were compelled to restrain their fingers to a proportion of twice the usual length they give to the bar, would be unable to go through the movement. In compositions of the sonata, or quar- tette species, in which the author distributes his ideas equally through all the parts, the hurrying of an allegro generally leads to the utter destruction of the character and clearness of the subjects ; for as Mozart himself observed, it is a mistake to think that rapidity of movement gives fire to the music; if the ideas themselves are deficient in it, quick playing will never supply it. The choice of time, or measure, in a composition, is indeed an exact criterion of the judgment, feeling, and taste, in a per- former: nervousness, or hurry of the spirits, may sometimes occasion a miscalculation ; but, generally speaking, nothing affords 386 MUSIC. a readier proof of a musical mind, than excellency in this respect. Maelzel's metronome has reduced the time of modern compositions to a certainty; but pieces written before the invention of this useful machine, are all bequeathed to the careful consideration of the player; the vague Italian terms preiixed to them announcing nothing beyond the style. Not to abuse this confidence, we must make proper discrimination between the ancient and modern allegro, as well as between the oldfashioned minuet, and that invented, or rather perfected, by Haydn. As a general principle, ;in error on the side of slowness of time is more tolerable than the contrary. The art of accompaniment to vocal music is, though an un- pretending study, a branch of practical music which requires the utmost nicety. So sensible was Haydn of its importance, that, when a boy, he paid his court to Porpora, an old, ill-tempered musician of great science; and endured hard words, interspersed with knocks, rather than miss the opportunity of his advice upon this subject. In vocal music, the piano-forte is to be completely subordinate; the accompanyist must attend upon the voice, and watch the singer in any little deviation from time ; the effect of the fingers upon the keys must be rather felt than heard; and, except in a ritornello., or intervening symphony, the instrument must never be prominent. Some exception, however, is to be made in respect of operatic music, particularly of the German school, of which the instrumental parts form too remarkable a feature to be neglected, though great delicacy should regulate the execution of them. Coarseness and loudness of accompaniment, and a proneness to run about upon the keys, are in opposition to the fundamental maxims of this part of the science ; but in- stances may be found, in which rules may be relaxed. When three or four voices are united, the province of the player is to render assistance to any insecure or wavering performer ; to be ready to prompt her with the note, yet so as not to expose her inefficiency. Although the taste for melody and harmony is generally con- joined, yet, in some cases, the one will arrive at perfection, while the other remains very immature. To avoid this, there is scarcely a better mode than that of listening to fine recitative, a part of dramatic music, in which, Mozart, Gluck, and Cimarosa, have left behind them specimens of perfect expression, and such modu- lation as cannot fail, when felt as it ought to be, to bring the taste to very great refinement. At the opera we may generally notice MUSIC. 387 that the recitative passes off unattended to ; indeed, modern com- posers are so sensible of the neglect bestowed upon recitative, with the old accompaniments of the violoncello and piano-forte, or harpsichord, that they have almost abolished the use of them for the more noisy effects of the full orchestra ; and sacrificed one of their most powerful contrasts to the impatience of ill-educated ears. Most people, however incompetent to perform a beautiful melody, are sensible to its charms ; but the taste for very exquisite successions of harmonies, is of rare occurrence. We usually find, that the last attainment of a great singer is the true style of reci- tative, which, as it wholly depends upon the impression the chords of the composer make, may be considered a proof that the sus- ceptibility to emotions from harmony, attends only an advanced state of the taste. Having noted down some remarks which may be calculated to assist the progress of the student, from her first steps up to that point at which mechanical labour ceases to be useful, we shah" re- vert a little to the earlier part of instruction on the piano-forte, to consider some of those errors which render acquirement of a smooth and rounded style of performance impracticable. Many a child, of excellent disposition for music, has been ruined as a performer, by being left too much alone in the outset, or too much to the super- intendence of a governess, who, with little ear, knowledge of time, or experience in teaching, suffers her pupil to practise waltzes, dances, and other little tunes ; satisfied of the progress made, if the notes be expeditiously read and played. Parents are commonly too anxious to see results from the attendance of an instructor, and if a governess be not employed, they require to hear tunes by which alone they judge of their children's profit, and fondly anti- cipate all their future cleverness. Alas! these expectations are seldom realized. A good master, during the first year of his em- ployment, is occupied in forming the hand, training the fingers, and beguiling, by a pleasant and amusing manner, the unpleasing labour which is found at the beginning of music, by all young and lively children ; in whom to create an interest, and at the same time to repress the desire for getting forward, is not one of the least diffi- culties with which he has to contend. Without a thorough and gradual exercise of the fingers at the first, to render them equal in power, and capable of acting independently of each other, the ad- vanced stages of execution will be indistinct and slovenly; the fingers will be seen either to dance upon the keys, or else to stick toge- ther and hold down more notes than are required ; the wrists will 388 MUSIC. be stiff, the arms full of motion, and the body awkward. Notwith- standing the outcry which has been raised against Logier's system of musical education, much of it is admirable, and particularly the use of the chiroplast, or hand-guide, for which there is no substitute but the constant eye of a master; and, as the employment of Lo- gier's machine causes a saving both of time and expense, it is to be recommended. The want of precision in counting the time, en- sues from neglecting it as unnecessary at first: so important is it to lay the proper emphasis in performance, that from the commence- ment of playing from notes, even while the pupil reads with hesi- tation, the master should count aloud. For the first half-year, and even, if possible, for the first entire year, every beginner re- quires one hour's daily instruction, because the pupil is at this time incapable of assisting herself, and if left too long alone will be in- jured by contracting bad habits; for every repeated mistake, or erroneous notion persisted in, causes infinite trouble to the master and pupil, even if it do not become permanent. The state of the piano-forte should be constantly attended to; it should never be suffered to remain out of tune, to the injury of the ear, and perhaps to the creating of a distaste for music. The earlier the pupil is enabled to tell the signatures of the keys, and the meaning of all the marks used in music, and accustomed to pay the most exact at- tention to them, the easier arid more satisfactory will be the progress. As many changes as can be played without altering the position of the hands upon five notes> first separately, and then together, including double notes carefully articulated, will have excellent influence upon the fingers, and ensure a beautiful posi- tion of the hand and wrist. Whatever the lessons be that are intermingled with the exercises of a beginner, they should not contain any harmonies of a refined and unusual kind, that may leave the ear in doubt, and confuse the ideas of right and wrong; mistakes of this sort are common in juvenile pieces, and they lead to this consequence, that false notes at length pass unconnected. The whole varieties of notes between the space of a sixth, seventh, and octave, should next be followed up unremittingly; taking care to let the weight of the hand incline rather on the thumb and first finger than on the third and fourth, which have enough to do to perform their own duty The scales major and minor will suc- ceed, first within the compass of an octave, then to a tenth and to two octaves; next the chromatic scale in octaves, thirds, and sixths, in similar and contrary motion ; and the concluding exercise will consist of the scales, both major and minor, in thirds, tenths, and MUSIC. 389 sixths, to be practised in the same way. The object of the modern system of training the fingers is to prepare them for all difficulties that may present themselves in the performance of sonatas or concertos; in fact, by anticipating every possible combination of notes, to remove difficulty entirely ; and no labour is so serviceable to this purpose as early labour, while the hand is plastic, and the taste not too refined to endure constant repetition. If two fingers be found particularly attached to each other, so that one will not move unless the other do, care should be taken to exercise each separately, holding down all the fingers but the acting one, which must be raised and made to strike firmly, while all the others remain free from any kind of motion. A table, or any flat and hard surface will serve equally well to break in the fingers as an instrument ; and the pupil must observe, that a pain in the wrist or up the arm is the signal to persevere, and not to leave off practice. The use of the thumb and little finger on the black keys is rendered absolutely indispensable by the style of writing at present in use ; through this employment of them we are not obliged unnecessarily to pass the thumb under the fingers, or the fingers over the thumb, and in this manner we arrive, in many passages, at a more convenient, certain, and connected performance. The key, however, if in many sharps or flats, or otherwise, must determine the propriety of employing the fingering we have mentioned. In passages where the thumb and little finger are frequently placed upon the black keys, the white are to be struck, not in front of, but between the black keys; and in passages which lie altogether upon the black keys, the hand must be raised over them, and this new posi- tion considered as if the passage were to be played on white keys entirely. It is a great impediment to neatness of execution, that begin- ners, who are generally rather uncertain and nervous, incline to hurry the time just in proportion as they feel excited by the music ; and that, in playing before company, when this fault should be most hidden, it is most apparent. The pupil should endeavour to hold in the time, and play progressively slower; thus, by keeping a tight rein upon her inclination, she will have a fair chance of succeeding in what she attempts : whereas, should she add addi- tional swiftness to uncertainty, the probability is, that the composi- tion she would perform will run into an unmeaning jumble. One of the most beautiful effects of which the piano-forte is capable, is the distribution of chords in divisions arpeggio, a means of prolonging the harmony, and producing, in some degree, the * 390 MUSIC. charm of sustained sounds ; the best masters employ the passage for this purpose, as may be seen from the preludes of Sebastian Bach to the piano-forte music of J. B. Cramer; and it may be observed, with respect to chords generally, that instead of striking every note at once, the arpeggio has more expression and beauty, and should, therefore, be preferred. If the pedals be used at all, and some effects of combination are gained when they are judiciously introduced, it should be when the hand and eye have attained perfect certainty, and not before. The pupil should be early accustomed to point out those notes which require to be leaned upon, as also the division of the sentences and phrases in a composition, which practice will be found very beneficial to mu- sical perception. In the playing of passages of embellished melody in adagios, one of the greatest difficulties to the performer is to make the hands act independently. As the left hand is the basis on which the notes of embellishment are founded, grouped in various num- bers, and without any regular distribution as to measure, it must preserve the time strictly. The player must also previously ex- amine and compare the contents of all the bars, and select that which contains the largest number of notes of embellishment as the guide which must determine the quicker or slower performance of the rest. The beginning of a bar must be played rather slower than the notes which succeed, that the performer may not have to lengthen out the remaining part of a passage, in order to fill up the time ; and that a chasm may never be left by miscalculation, and one part be concluded before the other. Embellished adagios cannot be played without the nicest accuracy, and as these movements require to be executed with lightness, tielicacy, and the utmost possible finish, they should be cautiously attempted ; for the step from the sublime to the ridiculous is oftener exemplified in the adagio than in any other style of music. Generally speaking, an ascending series of notes should be played louder and louder by degrees, and when there is an imitation between the hands, both must observe the same expression. If, after a short note which takes place on the accented time of the measure, a longer note on the unaccented time should succeed, the latter usually requires an emphasis. When two notes are slurred together, the first must be marked by an emphasis, and the finger gently taken up from the key immediately after the second note is struck, and before its time has expired. Passages of dotted notes are generally played as if rests stood in the places of the dots ; unless a slur should be MUSIC. 391 drawn over several of them, in which case, they should be held out their full time. The piano-forte is seldom commenced at an age when the pupil can determine for herself what point of excellence it is desirable to reaeh, which must alone decide the degree of application necessary to attain the object. If it be merely a superficial accomplishment, proceeding no farther than to the accompanying of songs, a few easy sonatas and studios will enable her to read with sufficient readiness to do this correctly: for it must be borne in mind, that whatever be the end proposed, the practice must be more difficult ; for when a performer is placed to a composition which tries her powers to the very utmost, the effect is never pleasing to the hearer. Thus, the player of sonatas must aim at concertos in private; the concerto performer must find something more difficult than the music she attempts : for the having of force in reserve, gives an ease and beauty to the performance, which an audience quickly distinguishes from labored correctness. When we hear Mr. Cramer play a concerto on the piano-forte, we may observe how particularly satisfactory and delightful is his execution from this very circumstance; the passages are so easy to him, and the grasp and command of his hand are so great, that what we hear is not only all that we can wish, but more than we expect. To see a pale, anxious face brought up to the piano-forte by a per- former who dreads the approaching concerto, is pitiable ; and no less unpleasant is it to see the vehement exertion and labour of one who can but just scramble through the passages. There can be nothing artificial or graceful in execution that is not accom- panied with ease. At present there is scarcely a necessity for enjoining the study of the good masters, for the works of Beethoven, Haydn, Handel, Bach, and Mozart, are making their way satisfactorily in the mu- sical circles. Lectures are becoming common, and are generally well attended by ladies, to whom we would recommend, that they should take with them, on these occasions, the composition which is die subject of discourse, and refer on the spot to the passages and particular effects cited by the lecturer. No means can be better adapted to shorten the long and laborious pursuit which is necessary to acquire taste in music, than lectures skilfully written and well illustrated ; for they present the results of reading, experience, and observation, which the casual reader or student might draw but imperfectly if left to her own guidance. It is not to be recommended, that feats of dexterity in the performance of the illustrations should 33* 392 MUSIC. occupy too much attention, and when sinfonias, modern overtures, and other full and difficult pieces are referred to and played, to exemplify remarks, if they were executed by two performers instead of one, the effect would be enriched, and the skill of the lecturer as a performer would not distract us from his commentary. This word, however, we only bestow, en passant, upon those who run to lectures wholly for the sake of the piano-forte playing. When scores of the greatest works in music become generally diffused, as it is not improbable they may, in this age of mechanical invention, a source of delightful interest will be opened to the amateur; those operations of the composer's mind, of which the combinations of the orchestra now leave the hearer to a faint and unprofitable conjecture, may then be distinctly traced on paper : the memory will be no longer taxed to discover the correspondence of the parts; and as the author's design is unfolded, we shall derive new gratification from seeing its perfect symmetry. There is something absurd, though well meant, in informing the mixed audience of a musical lecture, most of whom never saw a score, that Mozart or Beethoven does this or that, with the second violin, or the viola ; without the means of reference, they are literally as wise as they were before : but it is obvious, that good remarks in this manner, bestowed upon those who have acquired facility in reading music, and have the passage at hand, will greatly profit the observant listener. Of late years, the fault of our instrumental music has been an extravagance of execution, which argued as pitiful an ambition in the player as want of intelligence in the hearer ; for what must be the state of that musical mind that is satisfied with an exhibition of passages'? As days have neither lengthened, nor the allowance of fingers been increased since the rage for the wonderful in exe- cution first infected the public, the malady has cured itself; for where mere labour could command the attention which was for- merly bestowed on genius, the candidates were not likely to be few ; the number of performers who have succeeded in the clash- ing style, has, at length, brought the rattling of the finger-board into contempt. This sleight of hand, when used only as such, contributes to nothing but the vanity of the performer, and the debasing of the noble and intellectual ideas which it is the province of music to excite, a style not at all incompatible with piano- forte music, as Beethoven and Mozart have shown us; we, there- fore, most earnestly repeat, that execution is only commendable as it makes the meaning of the author apparent. MUSIC. 393 Instrumental music of the higher class of quartetts, and other models of pure and melodious writing, present, to a practised eye, so much consistency and propriety in the consecution of ideas, that, by the habit of reading them, the good composer learns to detect, in any movement submitted to his inspection, a musical phrase misplaced, and with as much certainty as the judicious critic discovers an ill-constructed sentence in an essay. It is related of Beethoven, that on the first sight of a new composition, which was handed to him for his judgment, he pointed at once to a musical phrase, which he said was good in itself, but not good in the situation it occupied ; and he then showed the place in which it would appear with the best effect. Haydn, also, grounded many of his slow movements on the incidents of some little plot which he had himself invented ; and these authorities, we think, show that there is something to be received from instrumental music, beyond the merely vague sensations of elegance or tenderness, and cer- tainly beyond that titillation of the ear, to which many debase this exquisite branch of composition: it follows, that if in work? of established excellence we are unable to discover a meaning, we must rather suspect our own want of perception, than be hasty to condemn the dulness of the composer. Handel and Mozart, as dramatic musicians, speak for themselves to the hearts even of the most unpractised : the sacred words of the Messiah may in- deed elevate our ideas of music, when we find that sentiment and expression can be so exalted and so perfect as in that great work. The transposition of pieces from one key into another is not only a highly useful ability in the player, but are of the most im- proving studies in harmony that can be made. As those who undertake to accompany vocal pieces will frequently find that airs lie out of the compass of particular voices, and that there is a necessity for relieving them by a change of key, ease and certainty in transposing, are an important object in practical music. The first essays, should be made with simple and well known tunes ; altering them from the original key, to some one not too remote, that the analogy be not wholly lost from C to D, from E to E flat, and the like; and, as these exercises go on increasing in difficulty it will be found that the relation of harmonies becomes clearer to the mind, and that the knowledge of modulation practically is increased. In conclusion, we would observe, that whatever time be be- stowed on the cultivation of music, it should be with a view to enlarge our apprehension of the art in general, rather than to 394 MUSIC confine ourselves to one particular style or instrument, imagining that nothing beyond these is worthy of attention. The study of the piano-forte, which comprises, within the compass of a single pair of hands, as much of harmony as is necessary to enjoyment, offers the greatest facilities to the improvement of the musical mind ; and the amateur, who has accomplished sufficient variety of mechanical difficulty to play with freedom and ease, will find it more pleasing to extend her studies into the styles of masters, than to prosecute her practice on the piano-forte to a very high degree of perfection. A great deal of pleasure is lost by encouraging exclusiveness and bigotry of taste, which are ever attendant on a vulgar idea of music ; but where we enter into the scientific prin- ciples of harmony, and distinguish the niceties in various styles of composers, our delight will be certain, and in strict proportion to the accuracy and extent of our knowledge. I DANCING The song has ceas'd, And young Rinaldo leads the lady forth To dance a graceful measure on the turf. ' USIC and Painting possess many advantages over the art on which we are about to treat ; but in no point of view is their superiority to dancing so conspicuous as in the zeal displayed by private individuals to attain the excellences of the professional painter or musician; while, however greatly the graceful movements of a first-rate public dancer may be admired, in society they are never imitated. It is usual, and doubtless judicious to foster a talent for painting and music, and to push the pupil forward as far toward perfection as circumstances will permit; not with a view to the adoption of the art cultivated as a profession, but as being a valuable accomplishment in private life: the more difficult studies, and that kind of practice which leads to excellence in the art of Dancing, on the contrary, are never entered into, except by those who purpose appearing upon the stage. To emulate the master-touches of the painter or mu- sician, is deemed meritorious in almost every class of society; the amateur who either wields the brush or touches the piano, adopts the same style, and occasionally rivals the execution of the pro- fessor ; but public and private dancing are so exceedingly different 396 DANCING. from each other, that what may be deemed a beauty in the one, would justly be considered a defect in the other : it is the ambition of the artiste to astonish and delight ; the lady who joins in a quadrille, aspires only to glide through the figure with easy and unobtrusive grace. A fine piano-forte performer is expected to play with equal spirit at a private party as in the concjrt-room, the musician's art being everywhere the same; but it would be in the extreme of bad taste for the ball-room dancer to attempt the least brilliant of those embellishments to " the poetry of motion," which are displayed by the dancer on the stage. Hence, it is not only impossible to hold up any public professor of the art of dancing as a model for the pupil, but it is absolutely incumbent on the master to warn those who are confided to his instruction, from aspiring to what are deemed the higher walks of the art. In those days when considerable agility was required to avoid unpleasant collisions of the cumbrous hoops then in fashion, and distressing entanglements of the festoons with which they were adorned, during the mazy figures performed in the ball-room, fine dancing was deemed an accomplishment of first-rate importance ; but at the present time, although every lady is expected, as a matter of course, to dance with ease and correctness, no one is permitted to be brilliant. Dancing has ceased to be a difficult and toilsome exercise, and is now softened down, as it certainly should be in society, to an agreeable pastime. It must not, however, be for- gotten, that the ease, grace, and neat execution, which are confi- dently looked for in ball-room dancing, must needs be the result of diligent practice; without it, the pupil cannot expect to go through a quadrille with credit to herself, or comfort to those with whom she happens to be associated. The facility displayed by the accomplished, should never lead her to imagine, that dancing, as she sees it practised, is easy of acquirement; they must have pre- viously devoted that attention to the preliminaries of the art, which is required of her by those who desire to see her capable of displaying an equal degree of ease and elegance. For ages past, Terpsichore has had innumerable votaries ; and dancing will, doubtless, ever be a source of pleasure to mankind while graceful motion is admired, and joy enlivens the earth with even " brief and distant glimpses of her face." Various eminent authors have written in its praise, not merely as an accomplish- ment, but as a graceful and beneficial exercise: among its advo- cates in this country, are Locke, Lord Herbert of Cherbury, Addison, and others of deservedly-high reputation. DANCING. 397 The great Locke, in his Treatise on Education, says, " Dancing, being that which gives graceful motion to all our lives, and above all things, manliness, and a becoming confidence to young children, I think, cannot be learned too early. Nothing appears to me to give children so much confidence and behaviour, and so to raise them to the conversation of those above their years, as dancing. 5 ' Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, to whom the world is indebted for some excellent remarks on the advancement of youth, states, that those who have properly learned to dance, appear to under- stand more what to do with themselves, and to have more freely and elegantly the use of their limbs, and command of their car- riage, than others; who, labouring under a stiffness in their motions, seem as though they were taken in the joints; and appear not to be capable either of sitting down, rising up, standing, or walking, in a manner that is agreeable to the eye of taste. He also observes, that those who have been taught by the more accurate dancing-masters, enter and quit a room where company is, and address themselves to persons, both above and below their own stations, with far more grace and propriety, than those who have not had similar advantages. In Fordyce's Sermons to Young Women, the author observes, that he must acknowledge he can see no reason for declamation against the moderate and discreet use of dancing. " I freely con- fess," he adds, f( that I am one of those who can look on with a very sensible satisfaction, well pleased to see a company of young people, joyful with innocence, and happy in each other. If an exercise so sociable and enlivening, were to occupy some part of that time which is lavished on cards, would the youth of either sex be losers by it! I think not. It seems to me, there can be no impropriety in it, any more than in modulating the voice into the most agreeable tones in singing; to which none, I think, will object. What is dancing, in the most rigid sensej but the har- mony of motion rendered more palpable 1 Awkwardness^ rusticity, ungraceful gestures, can never surely be meritorious." The Spectator is also an advocate for dancing: he says, in one of his papers, " It may appear odd, that I, who set up for a mighty lover, at least, of virtue, should take so much pains to recommend what the soberer part of mankind look upon to be a trifle; but under favour of the soberer part of mankind, I think they have not enough considered this matter, and for that reason only esteem it so lightly. I must also, in my own justification, say, that I attempt to bring into the service of honour and virtue, everything 398 DANCING. in nature that can pretend to give elegant delight. It may possibly be proved, that vice is in itself destructive of pleasure, and virtue in itself conducive to it. If the delights of a free fortune were under proper regulation, this truth would not want much argu- ment to support it ; but it would be obvious that there is a strict affinity between all things that are truly laudable and beautiful, from the highest sentiment of the soul to the most indifferent gesture of the body : the business of dancing is to display beauty ; and for that reason all distortions and mimicries, as such, are what raise aversion instead of pleasure." Mrs. Chapone very justly remarks, that dancing is now so universal, that it cannot be dispensed with in the education of a gentlewoman ; that it is, indeed, both useful and ornamental, as it forms and strengthens the body, and improves the carriage. Many other passages, from the works of the wise and good, in old times, as well as in our own days, might be adduced in favour of the Art of Dancing: it would, however, be needless to add to the number, as enough have been selected to show the high esti- mation in which it has been held, by writers whose opinions merit the utmost respect. HISTORICAL SKETCH OF DANCING. A slight sketch of the history of this agreeable art, will, we doubt not, prove acceptable to our readers : some of whom may be surprised at its antiquity, and feel considerable pleasure at being informed, that this recreation, which, in modern times, is the delight of the youthful, was deemed worthy of notice, as an amusing and beneficial exercise, by many of the sages of old times, several of whom were at once fine philosophers and good dancers, and a few of them, even when far advanced in life, became pupils in the art. Timocrates first beheld an entertainment of dancing in his old age, and was so pleased with what he saw, that he is said to have exclaimed against himself for having so long sacrificed such an exquisite enjoyment to the vain pride of philosophy. It has been frequently stated by authors, that music and dancing, as well as many other useful and ornamental arts, origi- nated among the ancient Egyptians. A gentleman, however, who, for the last fifteen years of his life, has made Egyptian history, and the habits, customs and manners of that people in ancient times, his peculiar, nay, almost exclusive study, assures us, that DANCING. 399 during the whole of his very extensive researches, he has met with no historian of acknowledged veracity, by whom any fact is re- corded in support of the claims made by the admirers of the old Egyptians, to the invention of those arts: nor does he remember any passage in the numerous hieroglyphic sculptures of that country, that will admit of such an interpretation : on the contrary, he states, that there are many passages in the historians, and nu- merous hieroglyphics, by which it is inferred, that the Egyptians were averse from music ; hence, he is induced to think, that dancing, or, rather, that species of the practice which, in after-times, arose into the dignity of a liberal art, was unknown to them. It seems probable, that during the frequent festivities tolerated, or, indeed, encouraged, by the rulers of that people, for the pur- pose of dissipating their melancholy habits, when their minds were under the strong influence of almost mental inebriety, their corporeal powers might be so affected as to produce a motion somewhat akin to that of our rude country boors, upon any great excitement; and this, the authors first adverted to might consider as the rudiments of dancing. That such violent and half-frantic movements might have been produced by their emotions, whilst adoring Pan, or his representative, the sacred goat, at Mendes, that these extravagances of action might have occurred during the procession of the removal of the shrine of Jupiter Ammon, usually deposited at Thebes, to Heliotropaze, or the table of the sun, in the Lybian deserts, or at the feasts of Isis, Osiris, or Jupiter Serapis, in Alexandria, or in any other of their very numerous religious festivities, it would be folly to deny ; but such temporary ebullitions of feelings must fall far short of anything like dancing, in the true acceptation of the word; for they were subject to no rules, and no progress in the art seems to have been made. Among the Jews, dancing was practised at their religious ceremonies : Soon as the men their holy dance had done, The Hebrew matrons the same rites begun : Miriam, presiding o'er the female throng, Begins, and suits the movement to the song. The Jews probably derived this custom from their ancient oppres sors, the Egyptians ; for we find that they indulged in it during their passage through the wilderness, shortly after their departure from the land of Pharaoh. David danced before the ark ; Jephtha's daughter is described as meeting her father with a dance ; and one of the joys enumerated by the Prophet, when foretelling the return 34 400 DANCING. of the Jews from captivity, is that of the virgins rejoicing in the dance. For the advancement of the art towards some degree of per- fection, we must look to Greece, where we find that music and dancing were cultivated in the earliest ages ; and where the latter still seems to flourish, notwithstanding the thraldom in which the land has for ages been held; for, according to De Guys, among the modern Greeks the passion for dancing is common to both sexes, who suffer nothing to deter them, when an opportunity occurs of indulging in its delights. The origin of this art is thus accounted for: The Curetes, a people of Sicily, who were entrusted with the care of the infant Jupiter, in order to prevent his being dis- covered by his father, Saturn, invented a kind of dance, and drowned his cries by accompanying their movements with the sounds of their shields and cymbals. Although the invention of the art 'be enveloped in fables, we have authentic records of its frequent early practice among the Greeks ; and it probably attained to a considerable degree of refinement. They seem to have had three principal kinds of dances, cordax, emmelia, and siccinis, and, doubtless, numerous subdivisions: the first, which consisted of lively movements, Demosthenes reproached Philip, king of Macedon, for having had danced in his presence : the second was of a grave and stately nature, bearing, probably, some resemblance to the modern Minuet; this, if our memory do not deceive us, was honoured even with the approbation of Plato : the third was a melange of the two others. Merion is extolled by Homer as a dancer; and it is related of one Hippocleides, that when he was about to be chosen from among a crowd of competitors, as the fortunate bridegroom of a fair virgin, he so incensed her father, by a foolish exhibition of his powers as a dancer, that the old man indignantly said to him, " Son of Tisander, you have danced away your wife!" "Hippocleides cares not," was the reply; and it afterwards became a proverbial expression. The Athenians had a slow movement, which they danced at funeral processions, ac- companied with solemn music. The old Spartans had a dance in honour of Saturn: they had another kind of dancing, termed the Phrygian, which was the step, or movement, they adopted when advancing to attack their enemies ; and, according to Athe- naeus, they had a law, by which their children were compelled to exercise themselves at the Pyrrhic dance, from the time they attained the age of five. Lycurgus instituted festivals of dancing in honour of Apollo; and it is even stated of the philosopher, DANCING. 401 Socrates, whom the Delphic oracle had proclaimed the wisest of mankind, and who, as it is related, was a pupil of Damon, in the art of music, that in his old age he actually received in- structions in dancing from the accomplished Aspasia. Clarmidas, who caught him dancing one morning at his own house, upon the circumstance being mentioned by Socrates himself to his disciples, observed, that he was so astonished at first, that he thought the philosopher's brain was turned; but that afterwards, when he heard the reasons given by Socrates for indulging in the exercise, he was so satisfied, that the first thing he did on his return home, was to follow his example. At the funereal games, in honour of Patroclus, a kind of war-dance constituted one of the ceremonies: it is supposed to have been invented by Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles. The Lacedemonians, the Cretans, and other nations, also had their war-dances: of these, which were called, by the Spartans, the Pyrrhic dances, of the dance of the Bacchantes, and that of the Furies, Mr. Maurice, in his Indian Antiquities, gives the following animated description : " The Greeks carried the sacred, as well as the social dance, to the highest point of attainable perfection. They made use of the varied dance, not only to animate devotion, but to excite valour and terrify guilt. The Pyrrhic dance of the Spartans, was performed by youths, armed cap-a-pie, who brandished aloft their swords, and darted their javelins to the sound of martial music. The dance of the Bacchantes was more furious, accom- panied by every sort of mirthful extravagance and furious gesti- culation; shrieks, cries, and all the outward signs of violent agitation. But the most terrible of all dances, was that of the Eumenides, or Furies, introduced on the tragic stage of Athens. The minds of the audience were agitated with dreadful alternations of passion, rage, anguish, and dismay: the valiant veteran, who had a thousand times braved death in the field of battle, trembled while it was performing; a great part of the sacred multitude rushed with precipitation from the theatre; and outcries of horror were heard on every side. The remaining audience, who had courage to witness the exhibition, appalled at the scenes which were acting, imagined they saw in earnest those terrific deities, the ministers of eternal justice, armed with die vengeance of heaven, and commissioned to pursue and punish crimes upon earth." The ancient Romans undoubtedly performed dances at their religious ceremonies, in the earliest ages. Numa Pompilius, in honour of Mars ordained twelve dancing priests, called Salii 402 DANCING. which number was doubled by Tullus Hostilius, in the war against Fidenae, a town of the Sabines, so that the whole college con- tained twenty-four priests; who, habited in parti-coloured coats, with swords by their sides and javelins in their hands, occasionally danced about the city. A sort of dance, in some respects resembling the old English Morice Dance, was practised by the Romans: it was called Saltatio Mimicorum ; the dancers wore silk corslets and gilt morions ; they had bells affixed to their legs, and swords and bucklers in their hands. The young men, also, indulged in the recreation of dancing: they had chiefs, or captains, called Principes Juventutis, chosen from among the most noble families in Rome. In the time of the republic, a species of dance, combined with gesticulation, bordering in some degree upon the modern panto- mime, was exercised by ^Esop and the celebrated Roscius : with the latter, the stately Cicero condescended to hold a friendly contest, in which the orator endeavoured to express, verbally, and with a suitable spirit, more than Roscius could represent by gesture ; but the latter bore away the palm. In a subsequent age, that of Augustus, the merit of ./Esop and Roscius was forgotten in the more splendid displays of Plyades and Bathyllus. Plyades repre- sented grave, tender, and pathetic subjects ; and Bathyllus, such as were cheerful, gay, and jocose. But at length each began to feel mortified by the applause acquired by the other ; and separating in a fit of jealousy, they opened different theatres, and found scholars and admirers in their respective walks of the art. The public took different sides, and disputed on the merits of the two Mimes; Rome was actually divided into two factions; each of which felt most warmly interested in the cause of its chief. But this excitement and admiration were not produced, it must be confessed, by mere dancing : their performances are described as having been so expressively touching, or so pleasantly agreeable, that the spectators thought they heard what they saw; that ges- tures alone supplied the sweetness of voice, the charms of poetry, and the energy of discourse. Perhaps in the earliest ages, but certainly in after-times, indi- viduals availed themselves of the benefits which the practice of dancing confers on the person and spirits. We find, that the guests of Scipio Africanus were entertained by the hero with dancing ; and the younger Cato, the friend of Pompey, a man re- markable for gravity and austerity of manners, when above sixty years of age, practised this art, which he had learned in his younger days, as a graceful accomplishment. The name of Marc DANCING. 403 Antony is also enrolled among the votaries of this art at Rome; for it is recorded, that he was censured for taking an improper part in the dances performed at some religious ceremony. That dancing was practised at marriages, we know, from the fact, that in the days of Tiberius, a decree was not only made by the senate against it, but the dancers by profession were actually banished from Rome. In the time of Nero, a dancer represented the labours of Her- cules with such admirable truth and expression, that a king of Pontus, to whom such an exhibition was perfectly novel, followed die action of the artist so closely, as to comprehend, with facility, every circumstance intended to be represented; and, impressed with admiration at such a display of talent, he entreated of the emperor to be allowed to take the dancer home with him, as he had barbarous neighbours, whose language none of his subjects understood, and who had never been able to learn his own; and he thought, by gesticulation and dancing, such as he had seen exhibited by the performer in question, that his wishes and ideas might be conveyed to them with certainty. From what we have seen of the estimation in which the art was held among the Romans, we think we are justified in con- cluding, that it had made considerable progress towards the end of the republic, and was very materially perfected under the era of the emperors. We here speak of the art as coupled with that of pantomime, which, among the ancients, was understood to mean the imitation of all kinds of actions and characters, without speaking. The pantomimes thus performed, made a part of all their theatrical entertainments; and the chief employment of the Mimes was to express, by gestures, whatever incidents were sung by the chorus, from a place adjoining the stage, to the people. As, among the ancients, dancing constituted one of the princi- pal ceremonies in their religious festivals, it could not be suddenly abolished, on similar occasions, in those nations which were con- verted, at an early period, to Christianity. According to Menes- trier and Scaliger, die solemn dances of the Romans and Hebrews were performed by the dignitaries of the church, in the time of Constantino. The latter audior asserts, that the early bishops were caUed Praesulus, because they commenced the dance in solemn festivals. The choir, or place where the canons, &c. in our cathe- drals are placed, is clearly derived from a Greek word, signifying a company of dancers. In the twelfth century, Odo, Bishop of Paris, issued an express prohibition of dancing in any religious 34* 404 DANCING. ceremonies ; but Menestrier informs us, in his work on Ballets, published near the close of the sixteenth century, that he had seen the choristers and canons, on a Whitsunday, dance while they chaunted hymns of rejoicing. Gallini states, that not long ago, at Limoges, the people used to dance the round in the choir of the church, which is under the invocation of their guardian saint; and at the end of each psalm, instead of the Gloria Patri, they sung as follows: "St. Marcel, pray for us, and we will dance in honour of you." In Spain, up to a very late period, if the custom do not even still exist, dancing was practised in the churches, on great festivals ; and in a distant part of Wales, it is related, that within the memory of the present generation, the people were played out of church on Sunday, with a fiddle, and joined in the jocund dance in the church-yard, at the conclusion of the sermon. In France, at so early a period as the year 1581, during the reign of Henry the Third, a splendid ballet was produced, under the auspices of the court ; and the king having united his favourite, Le Due de Joyeuse, to the queen's sister, almost ruined the nation, it is said, in similar entertainments of the most costly description. The queen, also, gave a superb fe"te, at the Louvre, in honour of her sister's nuptials, in which a ballet was exhibited, called Ceres and her Nymphs; the music of which was afterwards published by the celebrated Piedmontese performer on the violin, Balthazar de Beaujoyeux, then valet-de-chambre to the king. From that time, which may be considered the age of its revival in Europe, dancing made a gradual progress towards its present state of re- finement in France and the neighbouring nations. A very ancient holyday amusement of the people of England, was a species of ballet, called Mumming; which name was derived from the old vulgar phrase, " Mum!" signifying " be silent." The performers in this pastime, represented by gestures, accompanied with dancing, comic incidents and droll adventures ; and, in these rustic exhibitions, Mr. Dodsley is of opinion, that comedy, in England, had its rise. Among the recreations of the English court, during the reign of Henry the Eighth, dancing is frequently mentioned. The king himself was, doubtless, an admirer of this art. Lloyd says that "Sir W. Molyneux got in with King Henry the Eighth, by a discourse out of Aquinas in the morning, and a dance at night." In die age of Elizabeth, dancing seems to have been held in con- siderable esteem : the queen took great pleasure in it ; and many DANCING. 405 of her favourites were indebted as much to their elegant accom- plishments, as to their valour or wisdom, for the sunshine of her favour. In that reign, to use the words of Gray, Full oft within the spacious walls, When he had fifty winters o'er him, My grave Lord Keeper led the brawls ; The seals and maces danc'd before him. From the death of Elizabeth, until after the restoration of Charles the Second, the turbulence of the times, and the peculiar character of the age, prevented this art, which flourishes only in "the bowers of peace and joy," from making much progress; but in the days of the merry monarch it began to revive, and advanced, more or less, in all the succeeding reigns. The cele- brated Beau Nash, who was, for a long time, M. C. at Bath, may be considered the founder of modern ball-room dancing; which, however, has been divested of much of its cold formality, and im- proved, in various other respects, since the time of that singular person. It is, nevertheless, a matter of regret, that the graceful and stately Minuet has been entirely abandoned in favour of the more recently-invented dances. The French Country Dances, or Contre-Danses (from the parties being placed opposite to each other,) since called Quadrilles (from their having four sides,) which approximate nearly to the Cotillon, were first introduced to France about the middle of Lewis the Fifteenth's reign. Previously to this period, the dances most in vogue were La Perigourdine, La Matelotte, La Pavane, Les For- lanes, Minuets, &c. Quadrilles, when first introduced, were danced by four persons only : four more were soon added, and thus the com- plete square was formed; but the figures were materially different from those of the present period. The gentlemen advanced with die opposite ladies, menaced each other with the fore-finger, and retired clapping their hands three times; they then turned hands of four, turned their own partners, and grand rond of all concluded the figure. The Vauxhall d'Hiver was, at that time, die most fashionable place of resort: the pupils of the Royal Academy were engaged to execute new dances; a full and effective band performed the most fashionable airs, and new figures were at length introduced and announced as a source of attraction; but this place was soon pulled down, and rebuilt on the ground now occupied by the Theatre du Vaudeville. The establishment failed, and the proprietor became a bankrupt. A short time after, 406 DANCING. it was re-opened by another speculator; but on such a scale, as merely to attraci the working classes of the community. The band was now composed of a set of miserable scrapers, who played in unison, and continually in the key of G sharp; amid the sounds which emanated from their instruments, the jangling of a tambourin and the shrill notes of a fife were occasionally heard. Thus did things continue until the French revolution; when, about the time the Executive Directory was formed, the splendid apartments of the Hotel de Richelieu were opened for the reception of the higher classes, who had then but few opportunities of meeting to "trip it on the light fantastic toe." Monsieur Hullin, then of the Opera, was selected to form a band of twenty-four musicians, from among those of the highest talent in the various theatres: he found no difficulty in this, as they were paid in paper-money, then of little or no value; whereas, the administrators of the Richelieu establishment paid in specie. The tunes were com- posed in different keys, with full orchestral accompaniments, by Monsieur Hullin ; and the contrast thus produced to the abomi- nable style which had so long existed, commenced a new era in dancing: the old figures were abolished, and stage-steps were adopted; Pas de Zephyrs, Pas de Bourres, Ballotes, Jetes Battus, &c. were among the most popular. Minuets and Forlanes were still continued; but Monsieur Vestris displaced the latter by the Gavotte, which he taught to Monsieur Trenis and Madame de Choiseul, who first danced it at a fete given by a lady of ce- lebrity, at the Hotel de Valentinois, Rue St. Lazar, on the 16th of August, 1797: at this fete, Monsieur Hullin introduced an entirely new set of figures of his own composition. These elicited general approbation: they were danced at all parties, and still retain pre-eminence. The names of Pantalon, L'Ete, La Poule, La Trenis, &c. which were given to the tunes, have been applied to the figures. The figure of La Trenis, was introduced by Monsieur Trenis's desire, it being part of the figure from a Gavotte, danced in the then favourite ballet of Nina. To the French we are indebted for rather an ingenious, but in the opinion of many professional dancers, an useless invention, by which it was proposed, that as the steps in dancing are not very numerous, although they may be infinitely combined, that cha- racters might be made use of to express the various steps and figures of a dance, in the same manner as words and sentences are expressed by letters ; or what is more closely analogous, as the musical characters are employed, to represent to the eye the DANCING. 407 sounds of an air. The well-known Monsieur Beauchamp, and a French dancing-master, each laid claim to be the original in- ventor of this art; and the consequence was a law-suit, in which, however, judgment was pronounced in favour of the former. The art has been introduced to this country, but without success. An English dancing-master has also, we believe, with considerable labour and ingenuity, devised a plan somewhat similar to that of the French author: diagrams being proposed to represent the figures, or steps, instead of characters. There are a variety of dances to which the term National may, with some propriety, be applied. Among the most celebrated of these are, the Italian Tarantula, the German Waltz, and the Spanish Bolero. To dwell on their peculiarities would, however, as it appears to us, be useless: the first is rarely exhibited, even on the stage: the second, although it still retains much of its original character, has, in this country, been modified into the Waltz Country Dance, and all the objections which it encountered, on its first introduction, seem to have been gradually overcome, since it assumed its present popular form; and the graceful Bolero is restricted to the theatre only, being never introduced to the English ball-room. 408 PANCINC;. 1'UACTICAL OnsKK\ 'ATIONS AND EXERCISES. However impossible it may be to acquire a knowledge of dancing unassisteil by a master, we feel satisfied, that without de- preciating the talent or attention of those by whom they have been instructed in the art, many of our readers may derive mueh benefit from an attentive perusal of the following observations. It would be folly for us to attempt teaching steps, and useless to oiler a series of figures; our attention will be mueh more profitably directed, so far as regards the reader, to the carriage and deport- ment of the person, ami in suggesting such simple exerc will tend to improve those who are deficient, and to confirm those who are correct. OF THE ARMS AND HANDS. The proper carriage of the arms is certainly one of the greatest difficulties in dancing; it therefore demands the utmost attention on the part of the pupil. Of all the movements made in dancing, the opposition, or contrast, of the arms with the feet is the most natural to us: to this, however, but little attention is in general paid. If any person be observed, when in the act of walking, it will be found, tliat when the right foot is put forward, the left arm follows anil vice versa: this is at once natural and graceful; and a similar rule should, in all cases, be followed in dancing. As much depends on placing the arms properly, and on moving them with grace, as in the execution of steps, for dancing consists not in the motion of the feet alone, it requires the appropriate accom- paniment of the arms and body: without which, the art degene- rates into a mere fantastic mode of stepping. The arms should be kept in an easy semi-oval position, so that the bend of the elbows be scarcely perceptible; otherwise, they would present right angles, which would so oflend the eye, as to destroy all appearance of ease or elegance. Care must be taken, neither to raise the shoulders nor to spread the arms too far out. The proper situation of the arms, in dancing, is a little in front of the body: they should advance or recede in a natural series of oppositions to the direction of the feet in the execution of the various steps; their movements, in performing these contrasts, must not bo sudden or exaggerated, but so easy as to be almost imperceptible. DANCING. 409 The dress should be held between the fore-finger and thumb of each hand : it is a matter of importance to overcome both tremor and rigidity of the fingers, which should be gracefully grouped, so that the palm be partially seen in front. In dancing Quadrilles, when the lady advances with her partner, and in all the figures where the hands join, the arms should be kept of such a moderate height as is consistent with grace (Fig. 1.) It is also necessary that the arms should be properly supported, and not suf- fered to weigh or drag upon those of the per- sons with whom it may be proper to join hands in the course of the dance. To say nothing of the positive impro- priety of falling into such an error, the mere act, during its continuation, is quite destructive to grace, which cannot exist where ease is not appa- rent. Elegance, without affectation, may be shown in presenting the hand to a partner: rustic abruptness, and childish timidity, are equally to be avoided; a modest confidence is the golden mean to be observed in this, as 2 in every other department of ball-room dancing. To grasp the hand of a person with whom it is necessary to join hands, to detain it when it should be relin- quished, are faults which, we trust, our reader's good sense would prevent her from committing, even when dancing with one of her own sex ; but even these of- fences, in the consideration of propriety and taste, are not more grave than that of display. However excellently a young lady may dance, and whatever powers of brilliant execution she may possess, she should never forget that she is in a ball- room, and not on a stage: studied attitude in presenting the hand (Fig. 2) is reprehensible, as being productive of too much effect, 410 DANCING. and as showing an inclination for display. Correct execution of die figure and steps, and unobtrusive grace of deportment, should be the zenith of a young lady's ambition; as Shakspeare finely expresses the perfection of dancing, she should move like a wave of the sea; it being, of course, understood, when the elements are in their most gentle motion. When the hand is not to be presented to another, the arm should depend from the shoulder in an easy oval shape, as previously directed. OF THE FEET, &C. The principal study, with regard to the feet, in dancing, consists in acquiring a power of turning them properly outward ; in bend- ing the instep, without effort, immediately the foot quits the ground ; and in alternately practising with each foot, so that both may attain an equal degree of execution; it being decidedly in- elegant and awkward for one foot to be constantly active and correct in its movements, while the other remains comparatively unemployed. To dance with the instep concave, instead of convex, and the toes turned upwards, instead of the contrary, is termed dancing flat-footed, and is ungraceful to the last degree. The toes should be well pointed downward, and the knees outward, to correspond with them; but it is impossible to produce an union of grace in these particulars, unless the action of the instep and the knee be supported and accom- panied by that of the hip. In the ball-room, all the steps should be performed in an easy, : graceful manner : no noise of stamping should ' on any ac ~ count be made; the steps should be performed with minute neat- ness, and in as small a compass as possible; the feet should never be violently tossed about, or lifted high from the ground: the young lady should rather seem to glide, with easy elegance, than strive to astonish by agility : or, by violent action, make it appear, that, to her, dancing is a boisterous and difficult exercise. (Fig. 3, illustration of the Waltz.) DANCING. 411 But while we thus caution our reader against adopting those styles, one of which may be deemed operatic, and better adapted to a ballet than a Quadrille, and the other, rustic, and more appli- cable to the village-green than the ball-room, it is necessary for us to warn her against falling into the opposite error of listless- ness and inaccuracy; with these, elegance can never be obtained: the former makes her appear to be condescending to join in an amusement she despises, and the latter induces a supposition in the minds of those who may not be supposed to know aught to the contrary, that she is either unusually dull, or has never had an opportunity of obtaining the benefit of instruction from a proper master. OF THE BUST. It has been very judiciously remarked, by a cotemporary writer on this subject, that the pupils of a great artiste will display his merit in the graceful movement of the figure, as much as in the neat execution of the steps. The body should never be suffered to sink into idle attitudes ; as rounding the back, forcing the shoulders up to the ears, pro- jecting the back part of the waist, or stooping forward: such care- less habits, if long permitted, eventually produce local deformities. Affectation of primness is as much to be avoided as indolence: the admirable union of ease and grace, which constitutes elegance of deportment, can never be obtained by those who indulge in either of these faults. The body should always be kept in an easy and unaffected erect position except in the execution of certain steps which require the bust to be thrown a little forward : but, even in these cases, care must be taken that the body do not lose its perfect balance. The chest should be advanced, the waist retiring, and the shoulders depressed: by these means, the bust will be naturally and elegantly developed; and the shoulders, by being brought to range evenly with the back, appear of their proper breadth, and form a graceful contrast to the waist. OF THE HEAD. The head should be kept centrally between the shoulders by the erectness of the neck: the face may, of course, be occasionally turned to the right or left, not merely for convenience, or to avoid an appearance of constraint, but because the opposition which may be produced by a judicious change of the direction in which 35 412 DANCING. the countenance is turned, to the posture of the body or limbs, materially enhances the grace of the whole figure. The turn of the head should be so managed as to perfect the real and apparent balance of the figure. If the greatest weight be thrown on one side, the head may, generally speaking, be very advantageously turned, in a trifling degree, in an opposite direction. The reader may convince herself of the benefit to be derived by a graceful inclination of the countenance, so as to produce an easy opposition, by performing the positions before a glass, and turning her face alternately to each side, or keeping it in the same direction, and practising, in turns, with each foot. The head should be thrown considerably backward, and the forehead brought to project in a slight degree, by drawing the chin towards the neck. The coun- tenance, during a dance, should be illumined by a smile : it is perfectly absurd for a young lady to exhibit a melancholy aspect amid the gaieties of a ball-room, and painful to see her assume an aspect of care, when going through a Quadrille ; as it induces the spectators to imagine, that the performance of the steps or figure, so entirely engross her faculties, that she is incapable of partaking in the pleasures of the dance. POSITIONS, BATTEMENS, AND OTHER EXERCISES. The positions constitute the alphabet of dancing, and, although generally treated lightly of by the majority of dancing-masters, are of the highest importance. They form the basis of every step; and if each of them be thoroughly understood, and an accurate mode of performing it acquired, the subsequent progress of the pupil will be materially facilitated. The Battemens, &c. in the positions, form a series of very graceful domestic morning exercises, and we strongly recommend their frequent practice, even by those who have acquired some proficiency in the art; as they tend to correct many errors which are acquired by carelessness, during or after tuition, as well as to impart brilliancy and correctness of execution, to facilitate the bending of the ankle, to improve the balance, the carriage of the arms, and the developement of the bust, and to produce that general harmony of motion in which the chief beauty of dancing and general elegance of deportment consist. The first position is formed by placing the two heels together and throwing the toes back, so that the feet form a parallel line. DANCING. 413 The body should be kept perfectly erect: the shoulders should be thrown back, and the waist advanced; the arms rounded, and the fore-finger and thumb occupied in holding out the dress; the other fingers being gracefully grouped (Fig. 4.) During the first attempts, the toes should not be more turned back than will admit of the body maintaining its proper balance; they must be brought to assume the correct position by degrees, until the pupil can place the feet, heel to heel, in a parallel line with each other, without affecting the steadiness of the body or arms. The second position is formed by moving the right foot from the first position, sideways, to about the distance of its own length from the heel of the left (Fig. 5.) When the foot is thus placed, the heel must be raised so that the toes alone rest on the ground ; the instep being bent as much as possible, and the foot turned so as to retain its primitive direction outward: as in the case of the first position, the foot should be brought to perform the action of the second, in a perfectly correct manner, by degrees; and the toes should be gradually thrown back as far as the pupil's power to preserve her balance will permit. The third position is formed by drawing the right foot from the second position, to about the middle of the front of the left : the feet are to be kept close to each other (Fig. 6.) In drawing the right foot into this position, the heel must be put to the ground as it approaches the left, and kept forward during its progress, so that the toe may retain its proper direction outward. The fourth position is formed by moving the foot about its own length forward from the third position, directing the heel outward, 414 DANCING. and turning back the toe during the progress of die foot (Fig. 7:) it may also be slightly raised, and should be so placed as to be exactly opposite to the centre of the left foot, which, in this as well as in all the preceding positions, and also in the next, is to retain its primitive situation. 7 8 The fifth position is formed by drawing the right foot back from the fourth position, so that the heel is brought close to the toes of the left foot, the feet being completely crossed (Fig. 8.) The right heel, in this position, is gradually brought to the ground as it approaches the left foot, as in drawing the left foot from the second to the third. Bending the knees outward and rather backward, without raising the heels, and still keeping the body perfectly erect, is an exercise which should be performed in all the positions : it will impart flexibility to the instep, and tend to improve the balance. The pupil in her early essays in this exercise, should support herself, alternately with each hand, against some fixed object. She must by no means attempt to raise herself by swinging one arm in the air : it should rather be occupied in holding out the dress, in the manner previously directed. The knees should be only slightly bent at first; and the difficulties of the exercise maybe overcome by degrees, until she can perform it perfectly well with- out any support, or discomposing the proper position of her body and arms, Battemens en avant are performed by raising the right leg from the third position into the fourth in front, as high as the knee, with a quick jerk ; keeping the knee straight and the toes well DANCING. 415 pointed, the heel maintaining the same position as if on the ground, and letting the leg fall back into the fifth position in front. The left leg, during this exercise, remains steady, the knee straight, with the whole weight of the body upon it, so that the right leg may act with perfect ease and freedom (Fig. 10.) 9 10 Battemens en arriere (Fig. 9) are performed by throwing the right foot up behind in the fourth position, with the same rules as for the Battemens en avant: great attention must be paid to prevent the body inclining forward in this portion of the exercises; it should be kept perfectly straight, but without any appearance of stiffness. The Battemens en avant and en arriere, are performed, among professional dancers, by raising the foot much higher ; but it is unneces- sary to do so as a domestic exercise for ball-room dancing. Battemens on the second position, may be made in the following man- ner: The pupil must support herself in the same manner as in the practice of bending, before described; she should then pass the foot into the second position, the knee being kept perfectly straight, draw it back into the fifth position before; pass it again into the second position, and draw it into the fifth behind; and so on, until by repetition of the exercise, she can perform these Battemens with rapidity, ease, and correctness (Fig. 11.) 35* 416 DANCING. When the bends in the various positions have been practised sometime, the pupil should endeavour, after each bend, to raise herself on the toes (see fig. 12,) being careful that the knees are kept straight, and that the feet do not change their positions. This is an excellent practice, as it imparts to the feet the point so much admired, and, at the same time, considerably increases the power of the instep and ankle. 12 13 Petits Battemens sur le coude-pied (Fig. 13) are very difficult of execution: they are practised by accomplished dancers, for the purpose of giving ease in elevation, and what is termed aplomb; they also impart, in certain steps, that vivacity, which no other practice will give: we here, of course, allude to professional, and not private dancing. The reader may, however, attempt them ; and if she can succeed in executing them, they certainly form a graceful and beneficial exercise. They are first performed with one foot entirely on the ground; but after some practice, the pupil lifts the heel from the ground, so as to rest entirely on the toes, and executes the Battemens in that position with great rapidity. If the knee and hip be free from stiffness, the difficulty of the exercise is partially overcome ; and it is, in the first instance, to produce an ease and pliability in those parts, that they are prin- cipally practised. These Battemens consist of a rapid movement of the right foot, from the instep to the hinder part of the leg, by a mere movement of the knee. Having gone through the positions and Battemens with the right foot, it is absolutely necessary to do them with the left; observing, at the same time, that when the positions are practised with the right foot, the left must, of course, in its turn, remain stationary, DANCING. 417 and the whole of the weight be thrown upon it. The Battemens should be practised until the pupil can make them with some degree of, what a professional dancer would call, brilliance, with either foot, unassisted by the support which is necessary when they are commenced. Before concluding our article, we deem it expedient to describe the approved mode of performing the Curtsey ; and as our aim is to improve die general deportment in society, as well as in dancing for the ball-room, to offer a few observations on walking. 14 15 The performance of the curtsey in a proper manner, proves a matter of difficulty to some young ladies ; but it will be found very easy, after a little practice, to curtsey with grace, if proper directions be given and attended to. The following is the usual mode : The front foot is first brought into the second position ; the other is then drawn into the third behind, and passed imme- diately into the fourth behind, the whole weight of the body being thrown on the front foot; the front knee is then bent, die body gently sinks, the whole weight is transferred to the foot behind while rising, and the front foot is gradually brought into the fourth position. The arms should be gracefully bent, and the hands occupied in lightly holding out die dress. The first step in walking, after the curtsey, is made with the foot which happens to be forward al its completion. The perfect curtsey is rarely performed in society, as the general salutation is between a curtsey and a bow (Fig. 14.) The manner of walking well is an object which all young ladies should be anxious to acquire ; but, unfortunately, it is a point too much neglected. In the drawing-room, the ball-room, or 418 DANCING. during the promenade, an elegant deportment, a " poetry of motion," is, and ever will be, appreciated. The step ought not to exceed the length of the foot ; the leg should be put forward, without stiffness, in about the fourth position ; but without any effort to turn the foot out, as it will tend to throw the body awry, and give the person an appearance of being a professional dancer, as exemplified in fig. 15, which is tolerably correct in other respects, except in the position of the feet. The head should be kept up and the chest open: the body will then attain an advantageous position, and that steadiness so much required in good walking. The arms should fall in their natural position, and all their move- ments and oppositions to the feet be easy and unconstrained. The employment of soldiers to teach young ladies how to walk, which, we are sorry to say, is a practice adopted by many parents and heads of seminaries, is much to be deprecated. The stiffness acquired under regimental tuition, is adverse to all the principles of grace, and annihilates that buoyant lightness which is so con- ducive to ease and elegance in the young. ARCHERY. Oh, bold Robin Hood Was a forester good As ever drew bow in the merry green wood ; And what eye hath e'er seen Such a sweet maiden-queen As Marian, the pride of the forester's green? L RCHERY was formerly one of the chief pas- times, and the greatest defence, of the people of England against their enemies. Many statutes were made for its encouragement; and even after the bow was superseded by H other arms as a warlike weapon, the people were enjoined by parliament not only to keep bows and arrows, but also to practise shooting at the target: the City of London was compelled by the legislature to erect butts for this purpose. We have not met with any well-authenticated record of the first introduction of the long- bow to this country; but there is sufficient evidence to be found in the works of the old historians, to show that it was adopted as a weapon for forest and field in very early times. Richard the First was killed by an arrow, in the year 1199. In the reign of Edward the Third, precepts were issued to the sheriffs, command- ing them severally to provide a certain number of bows and bundles of arrows for the then intended war against France ; and in the 420 ARCHERY. battle of Cressy, which was fought shortly after, the English had a body of two thousand archers, to whose exertions the victory has, by some writers, been mainly attributed. The same king also directed the sheriffs of shires to see that the people exercised themselves with bows and arrows, instead of such other unpro- fitable games as foot-ball, hand-ball, &c. In the time of Edward the Fourth, every Englishman was compelled to keep a bow; and butts were ordered to be set up in every township, at which the people were directed to shoot, on feast-days, under a certain penalty. Sir Christopher Morris, Master of the Ordnance to Henry the Eighth, by command of the king, established a society of archers, for the express purpose of encouraging the use of the bow; and in Edward the Sixth's time, a sermon was preached before the king in favour of the sport, as an admirable exercise, by the famous Bishop Latimer. That monarch also records in his journal, that a hundred archers of his guard shot before him at an inch board of well-seasoned timber, which was completely pierced through with the heads of some of the arrows. An act of Henry the Eighth, by which every man was compelled to have a bow and three arrows, not being generally complied with, in the reign of Elizabeth, the bowyers petitioned that queen for authority to put them in force ; during her reign, also, the price of bows was expressly regulated by statute. The London Archers (for whose use several gardens had been levelled, in 1498) petitioned James the First to put a stop to the encroachments made upon their grounds by the inhabitants of the outskirts; and a commission was directed to several persons of eminence, to inquire into the circumstances, and restore the archery-field to its former state. On a former occasion (in 1514) the people of Hoxton, and neigh- bouring villages, having committed a similar trespass, the citizens of London took the law into their own hands, and, assembling in great numbers, with spades and pick-axes, proceeded at once to remove all the obnoxious enclosures and ditches. Charles the Second was not only an archer himself, but so much disposed to encourage the sport, that he knighted a man for excelling Sir William Wood, a celebrated archer, at shooting with the long-bow. From the death of Charles, archery gradually declined, until towards the close of the last century, when it was revived in various parts of England. A number of societies have, since that time, been established, and this excellent pastime has now, for some years past, been patronised and practised by ladies of the first rank. Meetings of archers, of both sexes, occur frequently ARCHERY. 421 in the course of every season : they are attended by many of the female nobility, and form, perhaps, the most brilliant and at- tractive rural fe"tes which are enjoyed throughout the year. Ladies usually shoot at a distance of about fifty yards: two targets are placed opposite each other, and the archers shoot from one to the other; that is, when all the party have shot at one target, they walk up to it, gather their arrows, and shoot back to the one they came from, to which they again return when their arrows are expended; and so on, shooting from one to the other in rotation; so that, not merely the arm, but the whole frame, enjoys the benefit of salutary exercise in the open air, while the mind is interested, and the spirits elevated by the sport. The attitude of an accomplished female archer, of one who has studied and practised the art in a proper manner (for archery is not be acquired without a little application,) at the moment of bending the bow, is particularly graceful ; all the a*ctions and positions tend at once to produce a proper degree of strength in the limbs, and to impart a general elegance to the deportment. For these and other reasons that might be adduced in its favour, as a healthful and agreeable pas- time, Shooting at the Target is equalled by few, and scarcely excelled by any recreation in which propriety permits young ladies to indulge. 422 ARCHERY. BOWS, ARROWS, AND ACCOUTREMENTS. In the selection of a bow, the young archer must confide in an experienced friend, or the bowyer from whom it is purchased. The chief point to be attended to is, that it is not so much above her strength as to prevent her using it with sufficient ease. The weight of the arrow should be proportioned to the power of the bow; the nock (Fig. 1. a,) which ought to be cased with horn, should exactly fit the string: it is to be observed, that of the three feathers with which arrows are furnished, the one which is of a different colour from the other two, or which, if all three are alike in this re- spect, is placed upon the horn, is denominated the cock feather, and must always be uppermost on the string. A difference of opinion exists among archers, as to whether the arrow should taper from the feathers (Fig. 1) to the pile (Fig. 2), from the pile to the feathers, or in each direction from the middle. Arrows may be obtained in either of these forms, according to the fancy of the archer ; but those which taper from the pile to the feathers are generally re- puted to be the best. The brace (Fig. 3) is made of stout leather, with a smooth surface, and is buckled round the bow arm, just above the wrist, to prevent the string from hurting it. A shooting-glove, consisting of three finger- stalls, back-slips, and a cross strap buttoned round the wrist, is also worn on the right hand, to protect the fingers from being in- jured by the string. The tassel (Fig. 4) is necessary to wipe away any dirt that may adhere to the arrow when drawn from the ground* The grease-box (Fig. 5) contains a composition, with which the brace and the finger-stalls are occasionally anointed, so that the string may more easily quit the latter and pass over the former. The belt is buckled round the waist; the tassel is hung on the right side of it, and the grease-box from its middle. To the belt is also suspended the pouch, in which two or three arrows, for present use, are contained; as the quiver is not worn in target shooting, it being placed a few yards aside, with other arrows in it to replace those in the pouch, when necessary. ARCHERY. 423 PRACTICAL DIRECTIONS. Bow-strings, when purchased, have a loop or eye at one end; and a noose is made at the other, on which the string is fastened to one end of the bow. To carry the eye of the string into the nock at the end of the other limb of the bow, or, technically speaking, to string it, is a matter of some difficulty to the inexperienced. For a bow of five feet long, the distance between the centre of the bow and the string, when the bow is properly strung, should not exceed five inches, and in the same proportion for a greater or lesser length. The bow is always to be bent with the round part inwards; notwithstanding, the flat part, or back of the bow, should be inwards when it is unstrung: they are manufactured in that manner to increase their power in shooting. In order to string the bow (see fig. 6,) it must be taken, by the right hand, ex- actly in the centre of the handle: its flat part, or back, should be turned towards the archer; the right arm must rest against the side ; the lower end of the bow, which has the shortest horn, is then to be placed on the ground against the inside of the right foot, which should be slightly turned inward, to prevent the end from slipping away; the left foot should be advanced; the centre of the left wrist placed just below the eye of the string, in the upper part, or limb of the bow, with the end of the thumb upon one edge, and one of the knuckles of the fore- finger upon the other : the other three fingers must be stretched out, as they are useless in the operation, and are in danger of getting under the string and being seriously hurt, if the eye of the string be not properly carried into the nock of the bow, (Fig. 7, #, the nock of the bow; 6, the eye of the string.) With the bow in the position above described, the centre of it is to be pulled smartly up- wards by the right hand ; the upper limb, at the same time, being pressed downward with the left wrist, and the hand carried upward until the eye of the string is received into the nock. When the archer is satisfied that it is correctly placed, and not before, she is to remove her left hand from the bow, which will then be perfectly strung. 36 424 ARCHERY. The operation of stringing the bow is to be performed calmly and patiently; and it should be practised until it becomes easy of execution. Should the right foot slip, on account of the pressure of the lower limb of the bow, the outside of the foot may be placed against a wall, or some other fixed object ; and if the string should get under the thumb or finger of the left hand, they must be pressed more closely against the edges; as it is to be observed, that the eye of the string must be carried up above the finger and thumb, and not between them and the edges of the bow. To unstring the bow, the archer places herself in the attitude for stringing it ; but the left wrist must be placed so near the top of the upper limb, that the fore-finger may reach round the horn, and its tip be inserted in the eye of the string: in this position, the centre of the bow is pulled upwards with the right hand ; its upper limb "pressed downward with the left; and, when the string is sufficiently slackened, the eye of the string is removed by the fore-finger. The bow being strung, its handle is grasped with the left hand, and held, horizontally, with the string upwards, while the arrow is taken, by its middle part, from the pouch, and carried under the string to the left of the bow, until its pile reaches the left hand, the fore-finger of which then re- ceives it, and the right hand is removed from its middle to the nock: the arrow is next to be drawn down the bow, and the string placed in the nock, with the cock feather uppermost, and exactly opposite the centre of the handle: the fore-finger is then re- moved from the arrow and placed round the ? bow (Fig. 8.) To pull the string up, in order to discharge the arrow, the thumb is not used: the string is drawn (and the arrow with it) by two or three fingers only ; it should be taken about midway between the tips and first joints, so that when drawn, it may be easily and instantly disengaged. The attitude in shooting is a matter of much importance : the heels should be a few inches apart ; the neck slightly curved, so as to bring the head a little downward ; the face, but no part of the front of the body, is to be turned towards the mark. The left arm must be held out quite straight to the wrist, which should be bent inwards; the bow is to be held easy in the hand; and the arrow, when drawn, should be brought, not towards the eye, ARCHERY. 425 but the ear (Fig. 9). The right hand should begin to draw the 9 string as the left raises the bow: when the arrow is three parts drawn, the aim is to be taken ; in doing this, the pile should appear to the right of the mark; the arrow is then drawn to its head, and immediately loosened. On account of the handle being placed rather below the centre of the bow, in order to equalize the resistance to the pull, the lower limb is made shorter and stronger than the upper. As the young archer will be in danger of breaking her bow if she draw it with the weak limb downward, she should carefully observe that it is in its proper position. As that part of the string which receives the nock of the arrow, is always whipped round with sewing silk, to prevent it from wearing, the archer may be sure that the bow is upside down if there be no silk on the string, where it receives the nock of the arrow when properly placed. To draw the arrow from the mark or ground, it should be taken by the hand, as near to the pile as possible, and extracted in the same direction as it entered. If these instructions be not attended to, the young archer will break many arrows in drawing them from the ground, or the mark when she is so successful as to hit it. A person at the targets should be furnished with a card, having proper divisions (Fig. 10) for the insertion of the archers' names, and to register the hits made by each as they occur. This is usually done with a pin, suspended from the card, as the holes made by it are more proof against accidents than the marks of a pencil; and ink in the archery-ground is very inconvenient. 10 Names. Gold. Reel. White. Black. Outer White. Total. Value. A 28 63 B 25 70 The face of the target contains four circles and a gold centre : the inner-circle is red; the next, white; the third, black; and the 426 ARCHERY. outer is white, bordered with green. The mode of ascertaining the value of the hits, which is increased in proportion as they reach the centre, will be seen by the following example: It appears by the card (Fig. 10,) that A has one in the gold, three in the red, seven in the inner-white, eleven in the black, and fifteen in the outer-white, making, in the whole, twenty-eight: the real value of these is to be ascertained by multiplying the hits in the gold by nine; in the red, by three; in the inner-white, by two; by adding a fourth to those in the black, and leaving the number without alteration of those in the white: by this process it will appear, that A.'s numbers according to the value of each circle, amount to sixty-three. B.'s total number of hits (Fig. 10) are twenty-five only; but calculated in the same manner, they surpass A.'s by seven. At grand meetings there are frequently two prizes contested for : one, the prize for numbers, computed in the manner we have described ; and another for the hit nearest the centre of gold. Different opinions have been entertained, as to hits on the edge of a circle: the best mode, perhaps, is to reckon them as falling in the outer circle. RIDING. The Virgin dueeu, peerless Elizabeth, With grace and dignity rode through the host: And proudly paced her gallant steed,. as though He knew his saddle was a royal throne. EALTH and cheerfulness, says an old author, are pursued with a better prospect of success on Horseback than in any other manner. Riding, it is generally admitted, ranks in the first class of exercises: but it is an art, which those who are unskilled in can never sufficiently appreciate, or truly enjoy; and daily experience proves to us, that the greater portion of those ladies who indulge in it, labour under this disadvantage. In no other art are there so many self-taught amateurs: numbers of ladies have a decided objection to going through the ordeal of a riding-school; others do not reside where they can obtain the benefit of a master's instructions; and the generality consider that they are in possession of all that can be acquired on the subject, when they have discovered a mode of retaining the seat and guiding the horse. To such of our readers as happen to belong to either of these classes, and also to those who, having been taught by a riding-master, are still desirous of further im- provement, the following treatise will, the writer flatters himself, if carefully perused, be productive of considerable advantage. 36* 428 RIDING. MOUNTLNG. On approaching a horse, die tail of the habit should be grace- fully gathered up, and the whip be carried in the right-hand (Fig. 1). The hat should previously be well secured, and the hair combed back, or otherwise so closely dressed, that neither the wind, the action of the horse, the effect of damp weather, nor exercise, may throw it into disorder. Losing the hat is not only attended with unpleasant consequences of a trifling nature, but its fall may make the horse start, plunge, or even run away; and should it, when blown off the head, be pre- vented from dropping to the ground, by means of a fastening under the chin, the action of raising the whip-hand in a hurry to replace it, accompanied, as it generally is, by a slight flutter of the whole frame of the rider, if either timid or inexperienced, is very likely to alarm the horse, if he happen to be shy or spirited. The hair, if loosely dressed, may lose its curl, and, by falling over, or being blown in the eyes of the rider, greatly embarrass and annoy her. It is the groom's duty, when die rider approaches, to gather up the reins with his left hand, smoodily and evenly, the bit reins 2 between, and somewhat tighter than the bridoon, properly dividing them with his fore finger (Fig. 2). The lady receives them a little more forward than the point of the horse's shoulder, with her right hand, which still retains and passes the whip over the saddle to the off (or right) side: on taking the bridle in this manner, her fore-finger is placed be- tween the reins; the groom removes his hand, and the lady draws IKTS hack, suffering the reins to glide gently and evenly through her RIDING. 429 fingers, until she reaches the near crutch of the pommel, which she takes hold of with her right hand, still holding the whip and reins, and places herself close to the near side of the saddle, with her back almost turned towards it. The groom now quits his former post, and prepares to assist her to mount. The horse being thus left under the lady's government, it is proper, that in passing her hand through the reins she should not have suffered them to become so loose as to prevent her, when her hand is on the pommel, from having a light, but steady bearing on the bit, and thus keeping the horse to his position during the action of mount- ing. She then places her left foot firmly in the right hand of the groom or gentleman in attendance, who stoops to receive it. The lady then lays her left hand on his right shoulder, and straightening her left knee, she bears her weight on her assistant's hand, which he gradually raises (rising himself at the same time) until she is seated on the saddle. During her elevation, she steadies, and even, if necessary, partly assists herself towards the saddle by her hands; one of which, it will be recollected, is placed on the pom- mel, and the other on her assistant's shoulder. It is important that she should keep her foot firm and her . knee steady. If these di- rections be attended to, she will find herself raised to her saddle with but a tri- fling exertion, either on her own part or that of the assistant. Should the latter be a lad only, or not much accustomed to this part of his business, he should use both hands instead of one (Fig. 3), joining them by the fingers: indeed, this, generally speaking, is the safer mode. The lady, in all cases, should take care that her weight be well balanced on her left foot, from which she should rise as uprightly as possible ; above all things taking care not to put her foot forward, but keeping it directly under her. The assistant should not begin to raise her until she has removed her right foot from the ground, and, by strengthening her knee, thrown her weight completely into his hand. Having reached the saddle, while her face is still turned to the near side of the horse, and before she places her knee over 430 RIDING. the pommel, when some ladies, very improperly, first take the reins, (Fig. 4, a,) the assistant puts the lady's left foot in the stirrup, while she removes her hand from the near to the off crutch of the pommel, holding the whip and reins as before directed. She now raises herself on the stirrup by the aid of her right hand, while the assistant, or the lady herself with her left hand, draws the habit forward in its place. She then places her right knee in the pommel, and her seat is taken (Fig. 4, 6.) Should the back part of the habit at this time, or afterwards, in the course of the ride, require any arrangement, the lady raises herself in the stirrup, by strengthening her knee and pulling her- self forward by the right hand, which is placed on the off crutch of the pommel, and with her left hand disposes her habit to her satisfaction. This can be done, when the rider has grown expert, while the horse is going at any pace, as well, if not better, than if he were standing still. When the laxly is seated, the groom fastens the habit below her left foot, either by pins or a brooch. THE REINS. Pupils, during their first lessons, may dispose of the reins in the following manner: The right hand is removed from the pommel of the saddle; the reins are separated, and one is held in each, passing up between the third and fourth fingers, the ends being brought over the fore-lingers, and held in their places by closing the thumbs upon them, and shutting- the hands, which should be on a level with each other, at a little distance apart, RIDING. 431 three inches from the body, or thereabouts, and the knuckles of the little fingers in a line with the elbow. By slightly ad- vancing the hands, or even relaxing the hold of the reins, the horse, if well trained, will go forward. The left hand is raised to turn to the near or left side, and the right hand to turn in an opposite direction. By slightly raising and approaching both hands toward the body, the horse may be made to stop. When either rein is acted on to turn the horse, the other should be a little slackened, or the hand which holds it relaxed. As soon as the pupil has passed her noviciate in the art, she holds both reins in the left hand: some ladies separate them by the third and fourth fingers; others, by one of these fingers only; and many, by the fourth and little finger ; but the greater number use the latter alone for this purpose, passing the off or right rein over it, and bringing the near or left rein up beneath it. The reins are carried flat upon each other up through the hand, near the middle joint of the fore-finger, and the thumb is placed upon them so that their ends fall down in front of the knuckles. The elbow should neither be squeezed close to the side, nor thrust out into an awkward and unnatural position, but be carried easily and gracefully, at a moderate distance from the body: the thumb should be uppermost, and the hand so placed that the lower part of it be nearer the waist than the upper; the wrist should be slightly rounded, the little finger in a line with the elbow, the knuckles immediately above the horse's neck, and the nails turned toward the rider. With the reins in this position, if she wish her horse to advance } the lady brings her thumb towards her, until the knuckles are uppermost, and the nails over the horse's neck: the reins, by this simple motion, are slackened sufficiently to permit the horse to move forward. After he is put in motion, the rider's hand should return to the first position gradually, or it may be slightly advanced, and the thumb turned upward immediately. To turn a horse to the left, let the thumb, which in the first position is uppermost, be turned to the right, the little finger to the left, and the back of the hand brought upward. This movement is performed in a moment, and it will cause the left rein to hang slack, while the right is tightened so as to press against the horse's neck. To turn to the left the hand should quit the first position, the nails be turned upward, the little finger brought in toward the right, and the thumb moved to the left: the left rein will thus press the neck, while the right one is slackened. 432 RIDING. To stop the horse, or make him back, the nails should be turned from the first position upwards, the knuckles reversed, and the wrist be rounded as much as possible. THE SEAT AND BALANCE. The body, says Adams, in his valuable Treatise on Horseman- ship, must always be in a situation, as well to preserve the balance, as to maintain the seat (see fig. 5). One of the most common errors committed by ladies on horseback, who have not been properly taught to ride, is hanging by the near crutch, so that instead of being gracefully seated in the centre of the saddle, with the head in its proper situa- tion, and the shoulders even, (Fig. 6, a,) the body is inclined to the left, the head is brought to the right by an inelegant bend of the neck in that direction, the right shoulder is elevated, and the left depressed (Fig. 6, 6.) To correct or avoid these and similar faults, is import- ant. All the rider's move- ments should harmonize with the paces of the animal ; her position should be at once easy to herself and to her horse, and alike calculated to ensure her own safety and give her a perfect command over him. If she sit in a care- less, ungraceful manner, the action of her horse will be the reverse of elegant. A lady seldom appears to greater advantage than when mounted on a fine horse, if her deportment be graceful, RIDING. 433 and her positions correspond with his paces and attitudes ; but the reverse is the case, if, instead of acting with, and influencing the movements of the horse, she appear to be tossed to and fro, and overcome by them. She should rise and descend, advance and stop with, and not after the animal. From this harmony of motion results ease, elegance, and the most brilliant effect. The lady should sit in such a position, that the weight of her body may rest on the centre of the saddle ; one shoulder should not be advanced more than the other; neither must she bear any weight on the stirrup, nor hang by the pommel over the near side; she ought not to suffer herself to incline forward, but partially backward. If she bend forward, her shoulders will, most likely, be rounded, and her weight thrown too much upon the horse's shoulders; in addition to these disadvantages, the position will give her an air of timid gaucherie. Leaning a little backward, on the contrary, tends to bring the shoulders in, keeps the weight in its proper bearing, and produces an appearance of comely confidence. The head should be in an easy, natural position ; that is, neither drooping forward nor thrown back, neither leaning to the right nor to the left. The bust should be elegantly developed, by throw- ing back the shoulders, advancing the chest, and bending the back part of the waist inward. The elbows should be steady, and kept in an easy, and apparently unconstrained position near the sides; the lower part of the arm should form a right angle with the upper part, which ought to descend almost perpendi- cularly from the shoulder. The position of the hands, when both are occupied with the reins, or when the reins are held in one only, we have already noticed ; the right arm and hand, in the latter case, may drop easily from the shoulder, and the whip be held in the fingers, with the lash downwards, be- tween two fingers and the thumb. The whip may also be carried in the right hand, in the manner adopted by gentlemen: the lady is not restricted to any precise rules in this respect, but may vary the position of her whip arm as she may think fit, so that she do not permit it to appear ungraceful (Figs. 7 and 8). She must also take care that the whip be so carried, that its point do not tickle or irritate the flank of the horse. 434 RIDING. The stirrup is of very little use except to support the left foot and leg, and to assist the rider to rise in the trot; generally speaking, therefore, as we have already remarked, none of the weight of the body should be thrown upon die stirrup. The left leg should not be cramped up, but assume an easy and comfortable position ; it should neither be forced out, so as to render the general ap- pearance ungraceful, and the leg itself fatigued; nor should it be pressed close. to the horse, except when used as an aid; but descend gracefully by his side, without bearing against it. Although hanging by the left crutch of the pommel, over the near side, is not only inelegant, but objectionable in many im- portant respects, the pommel, properly used, is a lady's principal dependance on horseback: by the right knee being passed over the near crutch, the toes slightly elevated, and the leg pressed against the fore-flap of the saddle, the pommel is grasped, and the rider well secured in the possession of her seat. It is said, that when a lady, while her horse is going at a smart trot, can lean over on the right side, far enough to see the horse's shoe, she may be supposed to have established a correct seat; which, we repeat, she should spare no pains to acquire. In some of the schools, a pupil is often directed to ride without the stirrup, and with her arms placed behind her, while the master holds the longe, and urges the horse to various degrees of speed, and in different directions, in order to settle her firmly and gracefully on the saddle, to con- vince her that there is security without the stirrup, and to teach her to accompany, with precision and ease, the various move- ments of the horse. Nothing can be more detrimental to the grace of a lady's ap- pearance on horseback, than a bad position: a friend of ours says, it is a sight that would spoil the finest landscape in the world. What can be much more ridiculous, than a female, whose whole frame, through mal-position, seems to be the sport of every movement of the horsed It is certainly rather painful to behold such a sight. If the lady be not mistress of her seat, and be unable to maintain a proper position of her limbs and body, as soon as her horse starts into a trot, she runs the risk of being tossed about on the saddle, like the Halcyon of the poets in her frail nest, Floating upon the boisterous rude sea. If the animal should canter, his fair rider's head will be jerked to and fro as "a vexed weathercock;" her drapery will be blown about, instead of falling gracefully around her; and her elbows rise RIDING. 435 and fall, or, as it were, flap up and down like the pinions of an awkward nestling endeavouring to fly. To avoid such disagree- able similes being applied to her, the young lady, who aspires to be a good rider, should, even from her first lesson in the art, strive to obtain a proper deportment on the saddle. She ought to be correct, without seeming stiff or formal; and easy, without ap- pearing slovenly. The position we have described, subject to occasional variations, will be found, by experience, to be the most natural and graceful mode of sitting a horse ; it is easy to the rider and her steed ; and enables the former to govern the actions of the latter so effectually, in all ordinary cases, as to produce that harmony of motion, which is so much and so deservedly admired. A lady should ride her palfrey, even as some beautiful water-fowl passes onward with the tide, seeming, in the eye of fancy, by the concord of its motion with the undulations of the water, to be a portion of the stream, on the surface of which it floats. The balance is conducive to the ease, elegance, and security of the rider: it consists in a foreknowledge of what direction any given motion of the horse would throw the body, and a ready adaptation of the whole frame to the proper position, before the horse has completed his change of attitude or action; it is that disposition of the person, in accordance with the movements of the horse, which prevents it from an improper inclination forward or backward, to the right or to the left. The balance is governed by the direction and motion of the horse's legs. If the animal be either standing still, or merely walk- ing straight forward, the body should be preserved in the simple position which we have directed the lady to assume on taking her seat. Should it be necessary to apply the whip, so as to make the animal quicken his pace, or to pull him in suddenly, the body must be prepared to accommodate itself to the animal's change of action. When going round a corner at a brisk pace, or riding in a circle, the body should lean back rather more than in the walking position ; in the same degree that the horse bends in- ward, must the body lean in that direction. If a horse shy at any object, and either turn completely and suddenly round, or run on one side only, the body should, if possible, keep time with his movements, and adapt itself so as to turn or swerve with him; otherwise the balance will be lostj and the rider be in danger of falling off on the side from which the horse starts. The proper mode of preserving the balance under some other 37 436 RIDING. circumstances, will be found described in the course of the follow- ing pages. In no case, let it be remembered, should the rider endeavour to assist herself in preserving her balance, by pulling at the reins. AIDS AND DEFENCES. All those motions of the body, the hands, the legs, and the whip, which either indicate the rider's wishes, or, in some degree, assist the horse to perform them, are, in the art of Riding, denominated aids: those movements of the rider which tend to save the animal from disuniting himself, or running into danger, may, properly enough, be classed under the same title ; while such as act for the preservation of the rider, against the attempts of the horse, when headstrong or vicious, may more properly perhaps be called defences. The aids of the hand are considered the most important ; the rein, in horsemanship, may in fact be considered in the same light as the helm in navigation ; all die other movements of the rider tending principally to assist the bridle-hand, and carry its operations into more complete effect. There should be a perfect harmony in the aids; and all of them ought to be governed by those of the rein. In many instances, the power of a defence performed by the hand may be destroyed by the omission of a correct accompanying aid with the body or the leg. Thus, if a horse rear, it is useless for the rider to afford him a slack rein, if she do not also lean forward, in order, by throwing her weight on his fore-parts, to bring him down, and also to save herself from falling backward over his haunches. Should the rider, when her horse rises, slacken the reins, but retain her usual position on ihe saddle, if he rear high, she must necessarily be thrown off her balance ; and then, if she hang on the bit, in order to save herself from falling, there is great danger of her pulling the horse over upon her. Instances might be multiplied of the necessity of the other aids, or defences, acting as accompaniments to those of the hand ; we trust, however, that our readers will be satisfied with the one we have given. The aids and defences of the body are numerous : we shall attempt to describe a few of them ; and the residue must be ac- quired by practice, and the pupil's own observation. When the rider indicates by her hand that she wishes the horse to advance, the body should be inclined forward in a slight degree; the left RIDING. 437 leg, and, if the animal be sluggish or not well trained, the whip pressed to his sides. Should she, by pulling the reins toward her, or turning the wrist in the manner we have before directed, com- municate her desire to stop, her body ought, at the same time, to be thrown back with gentleness, or otherwise, in proportion to the severity of the action of the hand, against the horse's inclina- tion to increase his speed contrary to the will of his rider, or when he leaps, kicks, or plunges. If a horse rear, the rider should lean forward more than in the aid for the advance; but care must be taken, in this case, to perform the defence with discretion, especially with a poney, or galloway; for should the animal rise suddenly, and the rider throw herself abruptly forward, it is not improbable that he will give her a violent blow in the face with the top of his head. We have already stated, in a previous part of our little treatise, the direction which the body should take when riding in a circle, turning a corner, or acting as a defence against the danger at- tendant upon a horse's shying. In the first case, the aid of the body, if properly performed, will carry with it the aid of the hand, the leg, and even the whip if it be held near the horse's side. We will explain this by an example: Suppose the rider wishes to turn a corner on her left; she inclines a little toward it, drawing her left shoulder in, and thrusting her right shoulder rather for- ward ; the bridle hand will thus be drawn back on the near side, the off rein consequently act on the horse's neck, and the left leg be pressed close against the near side ; so that all the necessary aids for effecting her object, are performed by a single natural and easy movement of the body. The aids of the whip on one side correspond with those of the leg on the other : they are not only used in the manner we have already mentioned, when the rider wishes her horse to advance, or increase his pace, but also in opening a corner, &c. If the lady be desirous of turning to the left, she may materially aid the operation of the hand, which directs the fore-parts of the horse to the near side, by pressing him with her stirrup leg, so as to throw his croupe in some degree to the right, and thereby place it in a more proper position to follow the direction of his shoulders : in turning to the right, the whip may be made equally useful by driving out his croupe to the left. The power of these aids, espe- cially that of the whip, should be increased as circumstances require. The aid which is sufficient for nine horses, may not be powerful enough to serve for the tenth : and even with the same 438 RIDING. animal, while the slightest pressure will produce the desired effect in many cases, a moderate, and sometimes a smart lash with the whip is necessary in others. The degree of severity must be governed by circumstances, and the rider's own experience and judgment. SOOTHINGS, ANIMATIONS, &c. The voice and the hand, the leg and the whole body, may be employed to soothe and encourage. High-mettled or fretful horses, it is often necessary to soothe, and timid ones to encourage. A spirited animal is frequently impatient when first mountc'l, or if a horse or a carriage pass him at a quick rate; and some horses are even so ardent and animated, as to be unpleasant when in company with others. In any of these cases, the rider should endeavour to soothe her horse, by speaking to him in a gentle, calm tone; she should suffer the whip to be as motionless as possible, and take even more than usual care that its lash do not touch the flank; her seat should be easy, her leg still, and her bridle hand steady ; the bit should not be made to press on the horse's mouth with greater severity than is necessary to maintain the rider's command; and as the horse gradually subsides from his animation, its bearing should be relaxed in proportion. The per- fection of soothing consists in the rider sitting so perfectly still and easy, as not to add in the least to the horse's animation, at the same time being on her guard, so as to be able to effect any of her defences in an instant, should they be necosary. There is scarcely any difference between soothings and encou- ragements; except, that in the latter it is advisable to pat, and as it were caress the horse with the right hand, holding the whip in the left. A shy or timid horse may often be encouraged to pass anything that alarms him on the road, to cross a bridge, enter a gateway, or take a leap, when force and correction would only add to his fears, and, perhaps, render him incorrigibly obstinate. Animations are intended to produce greater speed, or to render the horse more lively and on the alert without increasing his pace. Some animals scarcely ever require animations, while others are so dull and deficient in mettle, as to call them frequently into use. The slightest movement of the body, the hand, or the leg, is enough to rouse the well-bred and thoroughly-trained animal; but it is necessary for the animations to be so spirited and united with sluggish horses, as almost to become corrections: in fact, RIDING. 439 what is a mere animation to one horse, would be a positive cor- rection to another. The aids of the hand, the whip, the leg, and the body, which we have before described, are animations; so, also, are pattings with the hand, the tones of the voice, &c. Animations should be used in all cases, when the horse, contrary to the rider's inclina- tion, either decreases his speed, droops his head, bears heavily and languidly on the bit, or begins to be lazy or slovenly in the per- formance of his pace. A good rider foresees the necessity of an animation before the horse actually abates his speed, or loses the ensemble of his action, and the grace and spirit of his deportment; and the slightest movement is then generally sufficient. It is much easier to keep up than to restore a horse's animation ; therefore, the whip, the leg, the hand, or the tongue, should do its office a few moments before, rather than at a time when its movements are indispensable. A slight motion of the fingers of the bridle hand serves as an excellent animation ; it reminds the horse of his duty, awakens the sensibility of his mouth, and preserves the correspondence between that and the hand. When it is necessary to recur to animations frequently, they ought to be varied: even the whip, if it be often used, unless with different degrees of force, will lose its effect. CORRECTIONS. Ladies certainly ought not to ride horses which require extra- ordinary correction. For numerous reasons, which must occur to our readers, a lady should never be seen in the act of flogging her steed: such a sight would destroy every previous idea that had been formed of her grace or gentleness: but moderate cor- rections are sometimes necessary, and the fair rider should make no scruple of having recourse to them when absolutely needful, but not otherwise. Astley, in his work on the management of the horse, after very properly recommending all quarrels between the steed and his rider to be avoided, observes, that too great a degree of indulgence may induce the horse to consider that you are afraid of him; and, he adds, if he should once think you are really so, you will find he will exercise every means to convince you that he considers himself your master, instead of acknow- ledging, by implicit obedience, that you are his. This is a very correct observation, and it is discreet " to check rebellion in its very bud:" this may be done, in most cases, by corrections of a very gentle nature. 37* 440 RIDING. Those, who imagine that a horse is to be corrected only with the whip, are very much mistaken. The aids and animations of the leg, the bridle hand, the body and the voice, may be made sufficiently severe to correct and render a horse obedient, in all ordinary cases. Severe flogging seldom produces any good effect; and in most quarrels between a horse and his rider, when both get out of temper, the former usually gains some important ad- vantage. The best way to correct a horse is to dishearten, and make him do what he would fain avoid, not so much by force and obstinate resolution, in contesting openly and directly with him when he is able and prepared to resist, but by a cool opposition and indirect means. There are different methods of attaining the same end; and those which are the least obvious to the animal should be adopted: a rider cannot rival him in bodily power, but she may conquer him by the exercise of superior ingenuity. VICES. Some horses are addicted to a very troublesome and vicious habit of turning round suddenly, we do not here allude to shy- ness, but restiveness, without exhibiting any previous symptom of their intention. A horse soon ascertains that the left hand is weaker than the right, and, consequently, less able to oppose him; he, therefore, turns on the off side, and with such force and sud- denness, that it is almost impossible, even if the rider be prepared for the attack, to prevent him: in this case, it would be unwise to make the attempt; the rider would be foiled, and the horse become encouraged, by his success in the struggle, to make similar endeavours to have his own way, or dismount his rider. The better plan is, instead of endeavouring to prevent him from turn- ing, with the left hand, to pull him sharply with the right, until his head has made a complete circle, and he finds, to his astonish- ment, that he is precisely in the place from which he started. Should he repeat the turn, on the rider's attempting to urge him forward, she should pull him round on the same side three or four times, and assist the power of the hand in so doing, by a smart aid of the whip, or the leg: while this is doing, she must take care to preserve her balance by an inclination of the body to the centre of the circle which is described by the horse's head in his evolution. The same plan may be pursued when a horse endea- vours to turn a corner, contrary to the wish of his rider: and if RIDING. 441 he be successfully baffled three or four times, it is most probable that he will not renew his endeavours. On the same principle, when a horse refuses to advance, and whipping would increase his obstinacy, or make him rear, or bolt away in a different direction, it is advisable to make him walk backward, until he evinces a willingness to advance. A runaway might, in many instances, be cured of his vice by his being suffered to gallop, unchecked, and being urged forward when he showed an inclination to abate his speed, rather than by attempting to pull him in: but this remedy is, in most situations, dangerous, even for men; and all other means should be tried before it is resorted to by the rider. Should either of our fair readers, " which the fates forefend!" have the misfortune to be mounted on a runaway, she may avoid any evil consequences, if she can contrive to retain her self-possession, and act as we are about to direct: she must endeavour to main- tain her seat at all hazards, and to preserve the best balance, or position of body, to carry her defences into operation ; the least symptom of alarm, on her part, will increase the terror or deter- mination of the horse; a dead, heavy pull at the bridle will at once aid, rather than deter him in his speed, and prevent her from having sufficient mastery over his mouth and her own hands to guide him ; she must, therefore, hold the reins in such a manner as to keep die horse together when at the height of his pace, and to guide him from running against anything in his course ; and it is most probable that he will soon abate his speed, and gradually subside into a moderate pace. Sawing the mouth (that is, pulling each rein alternately) will frequently bring a horse up in a few minutes; slackening the reins for an instant, and then jerking them with force, may also produce a similar effect; but if the latter mode be adopted, the rider must take care that the horse, by stopping suddenly, do not bring her on his neck, or throw her over his head. In whatever manner the runaway be stopped, it is advisable to be on the alert, lest he should become so disunited by the operation, as to fall. Our reader will here think, perhaps, that all this advice may be easy enough to give, but difficult to follow ; we beg leave, however, to tell her, that although it is not so easy as drawing on a worn glove, or replacing a stray curl, it is much more practicable than she may imagine ; but we trust she will never have occasion to put it to the proof. There is another situation, in which it is advisable to force the horse apparently to have his own way, in order to baffle his attacks. Restive horses, or even docile animals, when put out of 442 RIDING. temper, sometimes endeavour to crush their riders' legs against walls, gates, trees, posts, &c. An inexperienced rider, in such a situation, would strive to pull the horse away: her exertions would be unavailing ; the animal would feel that he could master the oppo- sition, and thus discovering the rider's weakness, turn it to her disadvantage on future occasions. We cannot too often repeat, that although a rider should not desist until she have subdued her horse, she must never enter into an open, undisguised contest with him. It is useless to attack him on a point which he is resolute in de- fending; the assault should rather be directed to his weaker side If he fortify himself in one place, he must proportionally diminish his powers of defence in another: he anticipates and prepares to resist any attempt to overcome him on his strong side, and his astonishment at being attacked on the other, and with success, on account of his weakness in that quarter, goes far to dishearten and subdue him. If he plant himself in a position of resistance against being forced to advance, it is a matter of very little difficulty to make him go back. If he appear to be determined not to go to the right, the rider may, on account of the mode in which he dis- poses his body and limbs, with great facility turn him to the left. If he stand stock-still, and will not move in any direction, his crime may be made his punishment: the rider should sit patiently until he show a disposition to advance, which he will probably do in a very short time, when he discovers that she is not annoyed by his standing still. Nothing will subdue a horse so soon as this mode of turning his attacks against himself, and making his de- fences appear acts of obedience to the rider's inclination. When, therefore, a horse viciously runs on one side towards a Avail, pull his head forcibly towards it ; and if, by the aid of the leg or whip, you can drive his croupe out, you may succeed in backing him completely away from it. It is by no means improbable, that when he finds that his rider is inclined to go to the wall as well as himself, he will desist ; should he not, his croupe may be so turned outward, that he cannot do his rider any mischief. In shying, the same principle may be acted upon more advan- tageously, perhaps, than in any other instance. If a horse be alarmed at any object, and, instead of going up to or passing it, he turn round, the rider should manage him in the manner recommended in cases where the horse turns through restiveness ; he should then be soothed and encouraged, rather than urged by correction, to approach or pass the object that alarms him: to attempt to force him up to it would be ridiculous and dangerous. RIDING. 443 If the horse swerve from an object, and try to pass it at a brisk rate, it is useless to pull him towards it; for if you succeed in bringing his head on one side, his croupe will be turned outward, and his legs work in an opposite direction: this resistance will increase proportionally to the exertions made by the rider. A horse, in this manner, may fly from imaginary into real danger; for he cannot see where he is going, nor what he may run against. Pulling in the rein, therefore, on the side from which the horse shies, is improper; it should rather be slackened, and the horse's head turned away from the object which terrifies him: by this mode, a triple advantage is gained: in the first place, the horse's attention is diverted to other things ; secondly, the dreaded object loses half its terrors when he finds no intention manifested on the rider's part to force him nearer to it; and, lastly, he is enabled to see, and, consequently, avoid any danger in front, or on the other side of him. A horse may be coaxed and encouraged to go up to the object that alarms him; and if the rider succeed in making him approach it, a beneficial effect will be produced; the horse will discover that his fears were groundless, and be less likely to start again from any similar cause. After the first impulse of terror has subsided, the horse, if he be properly managed, will even ma- nifest an inclination to approach and examine the object that alarmed him; but while he is so doing, the rider must be on her guard; for the least movement, or timidity, on her part, the rustling of a leaf, or the passing of a shadow, will, in all proba- bility, frighten him again, and he will start round more violently than before. After this, it will be exceedingly difficult to bring him up to the object. Mr. Astley, however, whom we have before quoted, says, that should the first trial prove unsuccessful, it must be repeated, until you succeed; observing, that the second attempt should not be made until the horse's fears have subsided, and his confidence has returned. A horse that is rather shy may, in many cases, be prevented from starting, by the rider turning his head a little away from those objects, which she knows by ex- perience are likely to alarm him, as well before she approaches as while she passes them. A lady, certainly, should not ride any horse that is addicted to shying, stumbling, rearing, or any other vice; but. she ought, nevertheless, to be prepared against their occurrence; for, how- ever careful and judicious those persons, by whom her horse is selected, may be, and however long a trial she may have had of 444 RIDING. his temper and merits, she cannot be sure, when she takes the reins, that she may not have to use her defences against rearing or kicking, or be required to exercise her skill to save herself from the dangers attendant on starting or stumbling before she dismounts. The quietest horse may exhibit symptoms of vice, even without any apparent cause, after years of good behaviour ; the best-tempered are not immaculate, nor the surest-footed infallible: it is wise, therefore, to be prepared against frailty or accident. Stumbling is not only unpleasant, but dangerous; to ride a horse that is apt to trip, is like dwelling in a ruin: we cannot be comfortable if we feel that we are unsafe; and, truly, there is no safety on the back of a stumbling nag. The best advice we can offer our readers as to such an animal, is, never to ride him after his demerits are discovered; although the best horse in the world may, we must confess, make a false step, and even break his knees. When a horse trips, his head should be raised and sup- ported, by elevating the hand ; and the lady should instantly throw herself back, so as to relieve his shoulders of her weight. It is useless to whip a horse after stumbling, (as it is also after shying;) for it is clear he would not run the risk of breaking his knees, or his nose, if he could help it. If a horse be constantly punished for stumbling, the moment he has recovered from a false step, he will start forward, flurried and disunited, in fear of the whip, and not only put the rider to inconvenience, but run the risk of a re- petition of his mishap before he regains his self-possession. It being generally the practice, and a very bad practice it is, for riders to correct horses for stumbling, we may discover an habitual from an occasional stumbler, by this circumstance ; namely, when a horse, that is tolerably safe, makes a false step, he gathers him- self up, and is slightly animated for a moment or two only, or goes on as if nothing had happened ; but if he be an old offender, he will remember the punishment he has repeatedly received im- mediately after a stumble, and dash forward in the manner we have described, expecting the usual accompaniment to his mis- fortune. When a horse evinces any disposition to kick, or rear, the reins should be separated and held in both hands, in the manner we have described in a previous page. This should also be done when he attempts to run away, grows restive, or shies. The body should also be put in its proper balance for performing the defences: it should be upright, the shoulders thrown back, the waist brought forward, and the head kept steady. Every RIDING. 445 part of the frame must be flexible, but perfectly ready for action. The danger attendant on the horse's rearing is, that the rider may fall off over the croupe, or pull the horse back- ward upon her. To prevent either of these consequences, immedi- ately a horse rises, slack- en the reins, and bend the body forward, so as to throw its weight on his shoulders (Fig. 9) ; and the moment his fore feet come to the ground, having recovered your position gradually as he descends, correct him smartly, if he will bear it ; or endeavour to pull him round two or three times, and thus divert him from his object: the latter course may also be adopted to prevent his rearing, if the rider can foresee his intention. We have made some other observations on this subject in a preceding page, to which we beg to refer our reader. A horse that displays any symptoms of kicking, should be held tight in hand: if his head be kept up, he cannot do much mischief with his heels. If, however, when the rider is unpre- 10 pared, in spite of her exertions, he should get his head down, she must endeavour, by means of the reins, to prevent the animal from throwing himself down, and also by a proper inclination of her body backward, save herself from being thrown forward (Fig. 10). If the least opportunity should occur, she must try to give him two or three sharp turns: this may also be done with advantage, if she detect any incipient at- tempts in the animal to kick. A horse that rears high seldom kicks 446 RIDING. much, but he may do both alternately; and the rider should be prepared against his attempts, by keeping her balance in readiness for either of the corresponding defences. She must also take care, that while she is holding her horse's head up, and well in hand, to prevent him from kicking, she do not cause him to rear, by too great a degree of pressure on his mouth. It is proper to observe, that if a horse be chastised for either of these vices, the whip should be applied to the shoulder for kicking, and behind the saddle for rearing ; but we must needs remark, that correction on the shoulder is, in some degree, likely to make a kicking horse rear; and on the flank, or hind quarters, to make a rearing horse kick. The rider, however, cannot do better, under the circum- stances, than to correct the positive evil, notwithstanding the possible consequences, in the manner we have directed. EXERCISES IN THE PACES, &c. Although our limits will not permit us to enter into an ela- borate detail of the lessons taken by a pupil in the riding-school, it is right that we should give the learner a few useful hints on the rudiments of Riding, and not devote our whole space to the im- provement of those who have made considerable progress* While we endeavour to correct bad habits in the self-taught artist, in the pupil of a kind friend, an affectionate relative, or of a mere groom, to confirm the regularly-educated equestrian in the true prin- ciples and practice of the art, to remind her of what she has forgotten, and to improve upon the knowledge she may have acquired, we must not forget those among our young friends, who, having never mounted a horse, are desirous of learning how to ride with grace and propriety, and who dwell at a distance, or do not feel inclined to take lessons from a master. To such, one- third, at least, of our preceding observations are applicable; and we recommend an attentive perusal of what we have said, as to mounting, the aids, the balance, position, &c. before they aspire to the saddle. Our other remarks they will find useful when they have acquired a little practice. A quiet and well-trained horse, and a careful attendant, should, if possible, be procured. A horse, that knows his duty, will almost instruct his rider ; and if a friend, who is accustomed to horses, or a careful servant, accompany the pupil, there is little or nothing to fear, even in the first attempts: the friend, or groom, may also, by his advice, materially assist the learner in her progress. RIDING. 447 It would be needless for us to repeat our advice as to the manner of mounting, holding the reins, making the horse advance, stop, turn, &c. or the proper disposition of the body and limbs: all these, in her early lessons, the pupil should gradually practice. Let the pupil walk the horse forward in a straight line, and at a slow rate, supporting his head in such a manner as to make him keep time in the beats of his pace ; but not hold- ing the reins so tight as to retard the measure- ment of his steps, or to make him break into a trot on being animated (Fig. 11.) The hand should be so carried, that it may delicately, but distinctly, feel, by the operation of the horse's mouth on the reins, every beat of his action. If he do not ex- ert himself sufficiently, he must be slightly animated. Should he break into a trot, he must be checked by the reins; but the pull must neither be so firm or continued as to make him stop. The moment he obeys the rein and drops into a walk, the hand is to be relaxed into its previous position. Should he require animating again, the move- ment for that purpose must be more gentle than before, lest he once more break into a trot. After walking in a straight line for a short time, the pupil should practice the turn to the right and to the left; alternately using both hands in these operations, in the manner directed in a previous page. She must observe, that when she pulls the right rein to turn the horse on that side, the other hand must be relaxed and lowered, or advanced, to slacken the left rein and ease the horse's mouth, and vice versA. If the horse will not readily obey the hand in turning, or do not bring forward his croupe sufficiently, he is to be urged to throw himself more on the bit, by an animation of the leg or whip. The 448 RIDING. animations, during the first lessons, should be commenced with great gentleness, and the rider will easily discover, by a little ex- perience, to what degree it is necessary to increase them, in order to procure obedience. This observation should be attended to, were it only for the pupil's safety; for if she begin with her ani- mations above the horse's spirit, his courage will be so raised as to endanger, or, at least, alarm her; and thus render what would otherwise be an agreeable exercise, unpleasant. After the pupil has practised walking in a straight line, and turning on either side, for a few days, she may walk in a circle, and soon make her horse wheel, change, demi-volt, &c. The circle should be large at first; but when the pupil has acquired her proper equilibrium, &c. it must, day by day, be gradually con- tracted. In riding round a circle, the inner rein is to be rather lowered, and the body inclined inward: this inclination must be increased during succeeding lessons, as the circle is contracted, and the pupil quickens the pace of her horse, She must practice in the large circle, until she is able, by her hand and aids, to make the horse perform it correctly. The inside rein must be delicately acted upon: if it be jerked at distant intervals, or borne upon without intermission, the horse, in the former case, will swerve in and out, and in the latter, the rider's hand and the animal's mouth will both become in some degree deadened; and thus their corres- pondence will be decreased. In order to procure correct action, the inner rein should be alternately borne on in a very slight degree, and relaxed the next instant, the hand keeping exact time in its operations with the cadence of the horse's feet. The direction is to be frequently changed ; the pupil alternately work- ing to the right and the left, so as to bring both her hands into practice. As soon as the rider becomes tolerably well confirmed in her seat and balance, and in the performance of the simple aids and animations, as well in large as small circles, she should begin to ride in double circles, at first, of considerable diameter, but decreasing them by degrees as she improves. Riding in double circles, is guiding the horse to perform a figure of 8; and this, in the language of the riding-school, is effecting the large and narrow change, according to the size of the circles. The number of the circles may be increased, and the sizes varied, with great advan- tage, both to the rider and the horse. They may be at some distance from each other, and the horse be guided to work from one RIDING. 449 to the other diagonally. Thus, suppose he starts from a, (Fig. 12,) he may be made to leave the upper circle at e, and enter the lower one at d; leave it at c, and enter the first again at 6; and so continue for some time : then begin at/, quit the lower circle at c, enter the upper one at 6, leave it at e, and enter the lower circle again at d. Thus the position of the rider and horse are alternately changed, from working from the right to a straight line, thence to the left, thence to a straight line, and thence again to the right. To give an instance of riding in a greater number of circles, of different diameters, let the horse start from a, (Fig. 13,) and leave the upper circle at 6, traversing to the outer small circle at c, passing round by d, entering the inner circle at c, passing round by fto g, quitting it at g", and entering the lower circle at h; quitting the latter again, after passing round i, at A:, and thence proceeding toward the outer small circle, entering at /, going round and entering the inner circle at e, passing round by g*, quitting it at/, to return again to a by entering the upper circle at m. These exercises may be diversified in various ways: the pupil, for instance, may perform the upper circle, and one or both of the lower ones, return to the upper circle, cross from that, diagonally, to the lower circle, quit it at h or k to perform one of the middle circles, return to the lower circle again, pass thence to the other middle circle, and quit it at c or / (as the case may happen) to return to the upper circle again. Nothing can be more beneficial than this variety of action : it tends at once to confirm the pupil in her seat; to exercise her in her balance and aids; and to render the horse obedient; but if he lie kept in only one direction, he will per- form the figure mechanically, without either improving his own mouth and action, or the rider's hand, aids, or balance. In horsemanship, working on a circle is called a volt; in angles, or a zig-zag direction, changes reverse; and on half a circle from a line, a demi-volt. These figures may first be per- formed separately: but there can be no objection to the demi-volt and changes reverse to be afterwards embodied into the exercises 450 RIDING. on circles. As in the last figure, the pupil may work from a (Fig. 14,) as directed, for some time; then perform the variations, by going across from a to b, and describe a demi- volt round by c e to a; then return from a to 6, and work a demi-volt, in an opposite direction, from b to a: thence the pupil may proceed in a line, enter the lower circle at d, and recommence riding in circles. The change reverse may at any time be performed, by quitting the upper circle at e or y,and working on the traversing lines, so as to cross the lower circle at g or h . and enter it at i or k. In fact, these exercises may be varied ad libitum; and the more they are diversified, the greater ad- vantage the pupil will derive from them, provided she persevere until she can perform one figure with accuracy, before she enter upon another that is more complicated. Should the horse, in changing, yield his head, but withhold his croupe so as to destroy the union of his action, or mar the perfection of the change, the rider should bring it to the proper position, or sequence, by an aid of the whip or leg, as the case may be. TROTTING. The pupil should begin to practise the trot (Fig. 15) as soon as she is tolerably per- fect in the walking les- sons. It will be as well for her, at first, to trot in a straight line; she may then work in the large circle, and proceed gradually through most of the figures which she has performed in a walk. To make the horse ad- vance from a walk to a trot, the fore -hand should be slightly ele- vated, by drawing upwards the little finger of each hand (or that of the left hand only, when the pupil has advanced enough to hold the reins in one hand,) and turning them toward the body. RIDING. 451 An animation of the leg and whip should accompany this motion. The trot should be commenced moderately: if the horse start off too rapidly, or increase the pace beyond the rider's inclina- tion, she must check him, by closing the hands firmly; and if that will not suffice, by drawing the little fingers upward and toward the body : this must not be done with a jerk, but deli- cately and gradually; and as soon as the proper effect is pro- duced, the reins are again to be slackened. If the horse do not advance with sufficient speed, or do not bring up his haunches well, the animations used at starting him are to be repeated. When the horse proceeds to the trot, the pupil must endeavour to preserve her balance, steadiness, and pliancy, as in the walk. The rise in trotting is to be acquired by practice. When the horse in his action raises the rider from her seat, she should advance her body, and rest a considerable portion of her weight on the right knee; by means of which, and by bearing the left foot on the stirrup, she may return to her former position without being jerked: the right knee and the left foot, used in the same manner, will also ease her in the rise. Particular attention must be paid to the general position of the body while trotting: in this pace, ordinary riders frequently rise to the left, which is a very bad practice, and must positively be avoided. The lady should also take care not to raise herself too high; the closer she maintains her seat, consistently with her own comfort, the more correct- her appearance will be. CANTERING. The whole of the exercises in circles should next be performed in a canter, which may be commenced from a short, but animated trot, a walk, or even a stop. If the horse be well trained, a slight pressure of the whip and leg, and an elevation of the horse's head, by means of the reins, will make him strike into a canter. Should he misunderstand, or disobey these indications of the rider's will, by merely increasing his walk or trot, or going into the trot from a walk, as the case may be, he is to be pressed forward on the bit by an increased animation of the leg arid whip; the reins, at the same time, being held more firmly, in order to restrain him from advancing too rapidly forward to bring his haunches under him; for the support of which in this position, he will keep both his hind feet for a moment on the ground, while he commences the canter by raising his fore feet together. 38* RIDING. The Canter (Fig. 16) is the most elegant and agreeable of all the paces, when properly performed by the horse and rider; its perfection consists in its union and animation, ra- ther than its speed. It is usual with learners, who practise without a master, to begin the canter previously to the trot; but we are sup- ported by good authority in recommending, that the pupil should first practise the trot, as it is certainly much better cal- culated to strengthen and confirm her in the balance, seat, &c. than the canter. The pupil is advised, at this stage of her progress, to practise the paces, alternately, in the various combinations of the figures we have described : performing her aids with greater power and accuracy in turning and working in circles, when trotting or cantering, than when walking. She should also perfect herself in her aids, the correspondence, and balance, by alternately increas- ing and diminishing the speed in each pace, until she attains a perfect mastery over herself and her horse, and can not only make him work in what direction and at what pace, but also at what degree of speed in each pace, she pleases. She may extend the canter to a gallop; learn how to ascertain, by the motion of the horse, if his canter be false or true, and acquire the means of making him rectify his action. In cantering, the horse ought to lead with the right foot: should he strike off with the left, the rider must either check him to a walk, and then make him com- mence the canter again, or induce him to advance the proper leg by means of the near rein, pressing his side with the left leg, and touching the right shoulder with the whip. The hind legs should follow the direction of the fore legs, otherwise the pace is untrue, disunited, and unpleasant, both to the horse and rider: therefore, if the horse lead with his near fore leg (unless when cantering to the left, the only case when the near legs should be advanced,) or with his near hind leg, except in the case just mentioned, although he may lead with the proper fore leg, the pace is false, and must be rectified. RIDING. 453 STOPPING. The pupil must also learn how to perform the perfect stop in all the paces. The perfect stop in the walk, is a cessation of all action in the animal, produced instantaneous- ly by the rider, without any previous intimation being given to the horse (Fig. 17.) The slovenly stop is gradual and un- certain ; the incorrect stop is a momentary and violent check on the ac- tion in the middle, in- stead of the conclusion, of the cadence: while its first part is coming to the ground, the proper movements should be performed by the rider, so that it may conclude correctly with the cadence. The firmness of the hand should be increased, the body be thrown back, the reins drawn to the body, and the horse's haunches pressed forward by the leg and whip, so that he may be brought to bear on the bit. The stop in the trot is performed as in the walk: the rider should operate when the leading legs have come to the ground, so that the stop be perfected when the other fore and hind legs advance and complete the cadence. The stop in the canter is performed by the rider in a similar manner: the time should be at the instant when the horse's fore feet are descending; the hind feet will immediately follow, and at once conclude the stop and cadence. The rider must bear in mind, that in order to make the stop perfect, the horse should previously l^e animated, united, and correct, in the beats or time of his pace. In an extended canter, or a gallop, it is advisable to reduce the horse to a short trot, prior to stopping him, or to perform the stop by a double arret; that is, in two cadences instead of one. Stop- ping or turning too suddenly in the gallop, is very distressing to the horse as well as unsafe to the rider ; in fact, the pace itself is rather too violent and exceptionable, in many respects, for a lady to ride. OF THF UNIVERSITY 454 RIDING. It is necessary that the pupil should learn how to make a horse back in walking: to do this, the reins are to be drawn equally and steadily towards the body (but yielded to him, when he obeys,) and his croupe is to be kept in a proper direction by means of the leg and whip. The pupil should perform her first lessons with a snaffle bridle, holding the reins in both hands, and without a stirrup. When she has acquired some degree of practice in the balance, aids, and general government of the horse, she may use a curb with double reins, and hold them in the left hand, managing them as we have directed in some of the preceding pages. It would be well for the self-taught equestrian, who has not acquired the true principles of Riding, to go through all the fore- going exercises in the paces, patiently and progressively: she will, doubtless, find it difficult to drop her incorrect mode of riding; but she should persevere, if she wishes to sit her horse with grace, ease, and safety. The pupil, in all cases, should re- collect, that her horse requires occasional haltings and relaxation: the time occupied in each lesson should be in proportion to the pace and animation in which it has been performed. If the exer- cise be varied and highly-animated, the horse should rest to recruit himself at the expiration of twelve or fifteen minutes; when refreshed by halting, he may be made to go through another of the same, or rather less duration, and then be put up for the day: it would be still better to make two halts in the same space of time: the exercise taken in such a lesson being equal to three hours' moderate work. When the lessons are less animated, they may be made proportionally longer; but it is always better, if the pupil err in this respect, to do so on the side of brevity, than, by making her lessons too long, to harass her horse, and fatigue herself so as to lose her spirit and animation. LEAPING. In the riding-schools, ladies who never intend to join what the poets call the jocund pack, By copse or dingle, heath or sheltering wood, are frequently taught to leap at the bar. The practice is beneficial, as it tends to confirm the seat, and to enable the rider more RIDING. 455 effectually to preserve her balance, should she afterwards be mount- ed on an unsteady or vicious horse. Leaps are taken either standing, or flying, over a bar, which is so contrived as to fall when touched by the horse's feet, if he do not clear it : it is placed at a short distance from the ground at first, and raised by degrees as the pupil improves. The standing leap, which is practised first, the horse takes from the halt, close to the bar. The flying leap is taken from any pace, and is easier than the standing leap, although the latter is considered the safer of the two to begin with; as, from the steadiness with which it is made by a trained horse, the master or assistant can aid the pupil at the slightest appearance of danger. The position of the rider is to be governed in this, as in all other cases, by the action of the horse. No weight is to be borne on the stirrup ; for, in fact, pressure on the stirrup will tend to raise the body, rather than keep it close to the saddle. The legs (par- ticularly the right one) must be pressed closely against the saddle; is and the hand and the reins yielded to the horse, so that the rider can just distinguish a slight correspondence between her hand and the horse's mouth. The animations thus pro- duced, and the invita- tion thus given, will make the horse rise. As his fore quarters ascend, the lady is to advance forward ; the back being bent inward, and the head upright and steady (Fig. 18, the ascent.) As soon as the horse's hind legs quit the ground, the body is to incline backward, the rider taking care not to bear heavily on the reins, lest the horse force her hand, and pull her forward on his neck, or over his head, as he descends. When the leap is cleared, the rider should bring the horse together, if at all disunited, and resume her previous ordinary position. In the flying leap, the seat is to be preserved as in the standing leap; except, that it is needless, and indeed unwise, to advance the body as the horse rises: because, in the flying leap, the horse's 456 RIDING. position, especially in a low leap, is more horizontal than when he rises at the bar from a halt ; and there is great danger of the rider being thrown, if she lean forward, in case the horse suddenly check himself and refuse the leap, which circumstance occasionally happens. The waist should be brought forward, and the body suffered to take that inclination backward which will be pro- duced by the spring forward of the horse. The horse's head is to be guided towards the bar, and the reins yielded to him as he advances. The pro- per distance for a horse to run previous to the leap, is from ten to fifteen yards. If he be well trained, he may be suffered to take his own pace at it; but it is necessary to animate an indolent horse into a short, collected gallop, and urge him by strong aids to make the leap. (Fig. 19, the descent,) DISMOUNTING. Having now conducted our fair readers through the leading principles of Riding, teaching them, as well as our humble abili- ties would permit, how to enjoy its pleasures, and to avoid its perils, it only remains for us to dismount them with grace and safety, previously to laying aside our pen. The first important point to be attended to, in dismounting, is the perfect disentanglement of the clothes from the saddle: and before the lady quits it, she ought to bring her horse carefully to a stop. If she be light and dexterous, she may dismount without assistance, from a middle-sized horse; but it is better not to do so if the animal be high. The right hand, in preparing to dismount, is to receive the reins, and be carried to the off crutch of the pommel. The reins should be held sufficiently tight to restrain the horse from advancing, and yet not so firm as to cause him to back or RIDING. 457 rear; nor uneven, lest it make him swerve. The lady should next disengage her right leg from the pommel, clearing the dress as she raises her knee ; then remove her right hand to the near 20 crutch, and take her foot from the stirrup. Thus far the process is the same, whether the lady dismount with or without assistance. If she be assisted, the gen- tleman, or attendant, may either lift her completely off the saddle to the ground, if she be very young ; or, taking her left hand in his left hand, place his right hand on her waist, and, as she springs off, support her in her descent (Fig. 20.) She may also alight, if she be tolerably active, by placing her right hand in that of the gentleman, who in this case stands at the horse's shoulder, and descend without any other support. Should there be any objection or difficulty found in alighting by either of these modes, the gentleman or assistant may place himself immediately in front of the lady, who is then to incline sufficiently forward for him to receive her weight, by placing his hands under her arms, and thus easing her descent. If the lady dismount without assistance, after the hand is 21 carried from the off to the near crutch, she must turn round so as to be able to take in her left hand a lock of the horse's mane ; by the aid of which, and bearing her right on the crutch, she may alight without diffi- culty. In dismounting thus without assistance,she must [.. turn completely round as she quits the saddle, so as to alight with her face towards the horse's side (Fig. 21.) By whatever mode the lady dismounts, but especially if she do so without assistance, to prevent any 458 RIDING. unpleasant shock on reaching the ground, she should bend her knees, suffer her body to be perfectly pliant, and alight on her toes, or the balls of her feet. She is neither to relinquish her hold, nor is the gentleman, or assistant, if she make use of his ministry, to withdraw his hand, until she is perfectly safe on the ground. In order to acquire the mode of dismounting with grace and ease, more practice is required than merely descending from the saddle after an exercise or a ride. It is advisable to mount and dismount, for some days, several times successively, either before or after the ride; commencing with the most simple modes, until the pupil acquires sufficient confidence and experience to perform either of these operations in a proper manner, with the mere help of the assistant's hand, and even to dismount without any aid whatever. If she be but in her noviciate in the art of Riding, we strongly advise her in this, and all other cases, not to place too great a reliance on her own expertness, or attempt too much at first ; but rather to proceed steadily, and be satisfied with a gradual improvement; as it is utterly impossible to acquire perfection in the nicer operations of the art, before the minor difficulties are overcome. THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. Here, from the mould, to conscious being start Those finer forms, the miracles of art ; Here chosen gems, imprest on sulphur, shine, That slept for ages in a second mine. RTICLES of utility as well as ornament, in a number of elegant forms, constructed of several kinds of light materials, and variously embellished by the hands of young ladies, so frequently, now-a-days, decorate the cabinet, the work-table and the boudoir, affording at ST'SS^ once such means of graceful occupation, and opportunities for the display of good taste and dexterity in many interesting arts, that our work might be considered incomplete, if we did not devote a portion of its pages to some interesting subjects of this nature. It is our intention, therefore, under the general head of the Ornamental Artist, to describe the process of modelling in wax, clay, paper, pasteboard, glass, sulphur, &c. the modes of painting on velvet, glass, &c. and of making screens, baskets, and other ornaments, of feathers, beads, straw, alum, lavender, gold thread, &c. In one of Miss Edgeworth's works there is a pleasing account given of a pasteboard tray, constructed by some young persons, and divided into compartments for the reception of the genera and species of shells. A writer in one of 39 460 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. the late numbers of the Magazine of Natural History, in noticing this passage, takes occasion to observe, that with a view to lead young persons to habits of order and arrangement, similar trays ought to be given to them ; or, what would be still better, they might be taught the mode of working in pasteboard, so as to be able to produce such articles of convenience themselves. In this we most cordially agree with the writer; for, to use his own words, next to the pleasure of collecting in the fields, is the pleasure of seeing specimens preserved neatly and in good order ; and nothing is better fitted for this than pasteboard boxes. To die mode of working in this material, we shall devote as much space as the comparative importance of the other subjects we intend to treat on, in the following pages, will permit: among them, the art of modelling in wax and clay, in the higher depart- ments of which, our fair countrywoman, Lady Caroline Darner, has made her name celebrated, claims precedence. The figure of this lady, executed by herself, as some of our readers will doubt- less remember, adorns the hall of the British Museum. MODELLING IN CLAY AND WAX. The art of sculpture, of which modelling is a principal branch, is nearly coeval with the existence of mankind in a state of society. To raise a rude stone in memory of a remarkable person or event, was customary in the primitive nations ; and our knowledge of their history, and of the institutions that existed previously to the use of letters, is principally derived from hieroglyphical sculp- tures. It is commonly understood, that sculptors actually use the chisel, and execute with their own hands the works that bear their names; this is not the case. " From the chisel of Chantry," is a metaphorical expression : that great man is better employed than in chiselling marble. The province of the master mind is to execute, in clay or wax, a model of the intended work. The imi- tation of a model, in marble or other stone, is done by the most certain process of geometrical measurement, mechanically applied to transfer a sufficient number of points from the model to the stone, to preserve the form of the original work ; so that it is neces- sary only to have a careful workman, with the proper machine, to bring out the model to perfection in marble or other stone. The bronze is completed by the simple process of making a mould from THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 461 the model, in a material capable of standing the heat of the metal in fusion: the mould is then broken off, and the bronze is some- times worked upon by the sculptor, and an artificial bronze put upon it, to make it of one colour ; good taste would, however, prefer the brown which arises from the natural discoloration of the metal, by the effect of the common air upon it. Wax is the best material for small works, such as miniature portraits, models, &c. Large subjects are more commonly mo- delled in pipe-clay, well tempered by wetting and beating it with a mallet. The whole process of preparing the clay, and the ope- ration of casting in plaster, which succeeds the modelling, are too dirty and laborious for ladies. In large towns, wax may be bought ready for moulding ; and it is advisable to purchase, rather than to prepare it. As, however, some of our readers may be so situated as to be unable to buy it in a proper state, we deem it advisable to offer a few instructions for its preparation. The wax should be the fine white material which is used in making candles. To two ounces of flake white, add three ounces of Venice turpen- tine, if it be in the summer, and four in winter ; and sufficient vermilion to give it a pinkish tint : grind these together on a stone with a muller; and then put them into a pound of wax, molten in an earthen pipkin, and turn them round over the fire for some- time. When thoroughly mixed, the composition should be imme- diately removed and poured into dishes, previously wetted to prevent the wax from sticking to them. A slow fire should be used, as the quality of the composition depends upon its not being so overheated as to cause the turpentine to evaporate, and leave the wax in a brittle state. The tools for modelling are made of box-wood, bone, or ivory ; but those of wood are most approved, especially for wax tools. They are of different shapes; but those most generally required are quite thin, and slightly bent at their ends, being rounded off" from die middle, which is about the size of a common black-lead pencil. Artists frequently make their own tools; but we should advise your young friends to apply to a modeller for a set; as also for wax, and any other necessary materials ; all which may be kept together in a box. The principles of this art are precisely the same as those of drawing. Deprived of the fascination of colour, form, and form alone, occupies the attention of the sculptor: if his work be de- ficient in this respect, it is utterly worthless ; it is, therefore, his aim to rise above the mere copying of individual nature, and to 462 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. erect a standard of ideal beauty; a beauty, not superior to nature in the abstract, but superior to that of any individual specimen of it. Upon this principle the ancients executed their most celebrated statues, which are not mere representations of nature, but of dignified humanity, clothed in an imaginary perfection of the hu- man form. There are three kinds of models: the bas relief, which projects but little from its ground; the alto relief, which has a much greater projection, or is, in parts, even detached from it; and the statue, or round model, which stands independently on its own base. For the two former, a board should be provided, larger than the in- tended model, with a rim round it, raised at least an inch. The space inside the rim is to be filled up with well-tempered clay, which must be struck off level, by a straight-edged strip of wood. A general outline of the subject being sketched on this clay by a pointed instrument, the embossing is commenced. Care must be taken to preserve a dne proportion in the projection of the parts from the ground, as by this the whole effect is produced; and such subjects only should be selected as may be displayed without fore-shortening. An examination of medals, and of the beautiful bas-reliefs of antiquity, many of which may be seen in the British Museum, will show how much it is possible to effect by very small degrees of relief. For modelling small subjects, such as medallion portraits, in wax, a back ground of thick plate-glass, slate, or any material having a smooth hard surface, may be used. Wax models should be carefully kept from dust while in progress: those in clay must be constantly moistened, by laying wet cloths over them, or keep- ing them in a very damp situation, as they are very liable to be broken after they are finished, if suffered to dry. It is advisable to have them moulded, and to get casts taken from them in plaster of Paris, by the figure-makers, before they are damaged. As we do not recommend our reader to attempt making the plaster casts herself, it is unnecessary to describe the process of producing them. Should there be any objection or impediment to this plan, the models may be preserved by baking them in a potter's kiln, by which they are rendered as hard as earthenware, and differ from it only in being without a glaze. Many specimens of models baked in this manner, at very remote periods, have been dis- covered in various parts of the world ; they are styled terra-cottas : their colour depends upon the nature of the clay used; varying from reddish brown to white. THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 463 Medallion portraits should always be represented in profile ; other positions have been attempted, but seldom with a good effect. CASTING IN PLASTER, SULPHUR, &c. Taking the impressions of coins, medals, &c. is, independently of its utility, a most interesting amusement. This art is of con- siderable importance to collectors of antique coins, &c. It is often difficult and always expensive, to purchase superior specimens ; of which, however, exact models may be obtained by casting, without the slightest injury to the originals. The mould is made in the following manner : Take a strip of paper, a quarter or third of an inch wide ; roll it twice tight round the rim of the coin, or gem, of which a cast is intended to be taken, and fasten the end with very stiff gum-water, which will hold it instantly. Rub a very little oil, with a camePs-hair pencil, over the coin, in order to prevent the plaster from sticking; then mix some fine plaster of Paris, with as much water as will make it almost as thick as treacle; apply it quickly to the coin, on which it will be held by the paper rim. It sets almost instantly, and may be taken off in a few hours ; but the longer it remains undisturbed the better. The mould which is thus obtained, is the reverse of the coin ; that is, the impression is concave, like a seal. When the moulds are so dry that they will not wrinkle a piece of paper laid flat upon their surface, let them be well saturated with the best boiled linseed oil, placing the moulds with their surfaces upward, that the whole of the oil may be absorbed. They must be covered from dust; and nothing should touch their surfaces, lest they suffer injury. Moulds, well prepared in this manner, being dried about two days after being oiled, will stand a long time, for the casting of either plaster or sulphur. When used, either Florence oil, or a little hog's-lard (the latter is to be preferred) should be applied very tenderly over the mould with a little of the finest cotton wool, and the cotton wool, without lard, after- wards passed lightly over the surface, to leave as little as possible of the unctuous matter upon the mould, that the casts may be the finer. Put paper round them, as was before done to the coin ; pour on plaster in the same manner, and a fac-simile of the original will be produced. Good casts may also be made of sulphur, melted in an iron ladle, either pure, or coloured with a little red lead or vermilion, powdered and stirred up with it. The moulds and casts are made 39* 464 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. in the same manner as with plaster of Paris, only that the sulphur must be poured on the mould when hot; and water, instead of oil, must be used, to prevent adhesion. Sulphur makes the best moulds for plaster casts, and vice versd, as similar substances can seldom be prevented, by either water or oil, from adhering, in some degree, to each other. Plaster cannot be used twice; that is, old or spoiled casts cannot be powdered and again employed; for the moment the material is wetted, being a species of lime, it is no longer plaster, without being reburnt. Another way of making casts of almost any colour, is with a strong solution of isinglass: it must be used when quite hot; and it is so thin, that a box exactly fitting the rim of the coin is re- quired, otherwise it will escape. It may be coloured with saffron, woad, &c. Very beautiful impressions may be taken by pouring melted wax upon the medal, which comes off easily when the wax and metal are perfectly cold ; but any one attempting this had better try it first upon a halfpenny, or other coin of small value. Impressions may also be taken in wax, which, for this purpose, should be rendered pliable by kneading it with the hand before the fire; a little oil having been previously mixed with it. When softened to about the consistence of putty, lay it and press it close down on the coin, the form of which will then be perfectly obtained. The following is another mode of taking impressions: Procure tin or lead-foil, as thin as possible, place it on the coin, and with a pin's head, or any small, smooth instrument, work it into every part; then take it off, revert it into a shallow box, and pour plaster into its concave side: a durable plaster cast is thus obtained, covered with tin foil, which will resemble silver. PAINTING ON GLASS. Among those works which profess to teach the art of painting on glass, we find some in which directions are given for staining large windows in churches and halls; and the others, which merely contain the process of producing the paintings some- times seen in cottages, or carried about the streets for sale, by Italians and Jews, representing scriptural or sporting subjects. These, we believe, were much in vogue sixty years since, as we find the mode of doing them described in all the Young Artist's Assistants of that day ; which mode has been copied into similar THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 465 publications up to the present time. They direct us to fix a mezzo- tinto print upon the back of a sheet of glass, and to remove the paper by wetting and rubbing, leaving the impression of the print, which is afterwards to be painted in broad washes ; the ink of the print giving the shadows. The picture being then turned over, the glazed side becomes the front, and the colours first laid on are, of course, nearest to the eye. The methods by which glass is stained are scientific; they require a profound knowledge of chemistry, and such apparatus as must preclude the practice of this, which is the grandest, branch of the art, as an amusement. It may be interesting, however, to know the principles upon which it is performed. The glass being, at first, colourless, a drawing is made upon it, and the painting is laid on with mineral substances ; the vehicle being a volatile oil, which soon evaporates. The sheets of glass are then exposed to a powerful heat, until they are so far melted that they receive the colours into their own substances: enamel paint- ing is done on the same principle. This is a time of great anxiety to the artist; as, with all possible care, valuable paintings, both in glass and enamel, are frequently spoiled in the proving, or vitri- fication. The art seems to have been lost during several centuries, but it has of late been successfully revived; and large windows have been executed for churches and gothic halls, which almost vie with the fine old specimens in the cathedrals, in point of colour, while they far excel them in other respects. The branch of the art which may be treated as an accomplish- ment, is the decoration of glass flower-stands, lamp-shades, and similar articles, with light and elegant designs. Flowers, birds, butterflies, and pleasing landscapes, yield an extensive range of subjects, which are suitable to this style of ornamental painting. The glasses may be procured ready ground. The outline may be sketched in with black-lead pencil, which can be washed off with a sponge when the colours are dry. The whole of the colours employed must be transparent, and ground in oil: opaque, or body colours, will not answer the purpose. They may be purchased in small bladders, only requiring to be tempered with fine copal or mastich varnish, and a very little nut oil, to be ready for use. Blue is produced by Prussian blue; red, by scarlet or crimson lake; yellow, by yellow lake, or gumboge; green, by verdigris, or mineral green, or a mixture of Prussian blue and gumboge; purple, by a mixture of lake and Prussian blue ; reddish brown, by burnt sienna; and all the other tints may be obtained by 466 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. combinations: for white, or such parts as are required to be transparent, without colour, the varnish only should be employed. A very chaste and pleasing effect may be produced by painting the whole design in varnish, without colour. It is an advantage to this style of painting, that but few colours are required; as, from the nature of the subjects, and their purpose as ornaments, brilliancy is more desirable than a nice gradation of tints. The work must, of course, be carefully dried, but may afterwards be cleaned with a sponge and cold water. PAINTING ON VELVET. Paintings on velvet are very pleasing to the eye, and easy of execution. Chair-cushions, sofas, ottomans, fire-screens, hand- screens, bell-pulls, reticules, purses, watch-pockets, and a variety of other useful and decorative articles may be ornamented with them. The largest and most brilliant flowers, fruits, shells, birds, &c. are all well adapted to this style of painting. The colours are sold at the drawing-material warehouses, in a liquid state and prepared for use. In addition to these, a brilliant rose colour is obtained from the pink saucers, by dropping a little weak gum-water upon the colour, and rubbing it with a brush. A deep yellow may also be produced, by pouring a few drops of boiling water upon a small quantity of hay saffron. It is necessary to mix gum-water with all the colours made, to prevent their spreading into each other: gum dragon is the best for this purpose. The brushes used are called scrubs ; they consist of a small stick, with a camel's- hair brush cut off quite short at one end, and at the other, a brush of bristles of a much harder description. A small box of black lead is necessary, and a piece of list rolled tightly round, to the diameter of about two inches, to be used as a sort of brush with the black lead, for making outlines, in the manner we shall pre- sently direct. A piece of linen rag, to wipe the brushes on, should also be provided. The outline of the subject may be sketched in pencil on the velvet, which is of such a very delicate nature, that the greatest nicety is necessary to keep it in a state of neatness. Care should also be taken that the sketch is correctly made, as an error cannot be effaced by rubbing out, as on paper. It is a safer method, however, to make the sketch on drawing-paper, and to prick the THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 467 outline very closely with a fine needle; then, the velvet being previously nailed on a flat piece of wood of a proper size, the pricked pattern may be laid over it, the roll of list dipped into die black-lead powder, and rubbed regularly over the pattern from side to side, observing to touch every part, and on removing the pattern, a perfect outline in black dots will appear on the velvet. Where a set of any article of the same pattern is undertaken, this is a very good plan, as it ensures accuracy, and saves the trouble of making separate sketches. Even those who have no knowledge of drawing on paper may produce a design on velvet, with ease and correctness, by tracing off against a window, or by means of tracing paper, any drawing or print which they wish to copy, and pricking the tracing on the velvet in the manner we have just described. In order to keep the margin of the velvet from being soiled in the progress of painting, a piece of thick paper should be laid over the whole, and an aperture cut in the middle, suffi- ciently large to expose the part to be worked on. Each brush should be kept for that colour alone to which it has once been appropriated. A small quantity of the colour about to be used should be poured into a little cup, and a drop of gum- water added, and stirred with the stick of a pencil prior to its being taken on the brush. The mode of its application is so simple, that a short description of the execution of a single flower will suffice to give an idea of the process of painting almost any other subject on velvet. A very small portion of colour is to be taken upon the brush, and the darkest part of the leaf touched with it; the brush is then to be dipped in water, and the colour gradually softened to the edge; each leaf ought to be coloured separately, and the darkest parts in the centre of the flowers may be finished with a small brush without softening. Indian ink is used to make the dark shadows of crimson flowers. The veins, the petals of flowers, and all the fine lines, should be done with a pen. Each leaf, as it is shadowed, should be brushed with the hard end of a brush, that way of the velvet in which the pile runs most easily, and then in the contrary direction, so as to set it up again to become dry. A deeper shade should never be added to a leaf or flower until the colour previously laid on is perfectly set, or the two colours will spread and run into each other: this will be prevented by the gum, if sufficient time be allowed for each shade to dry before a subsequent one is applied. When the piece is finished, and quite dry. it should be brushed over with a small round brush, about two inches in diameter, with 468 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. hard bristles of an equal length, to raise up such parts of the pile as may have been flattened in the process of painting. CHINESE PAINTING. A variety of articles, such as work-boxes and baskets, screens, and small ornamental tables, may be procured at the fancy shops, made of a beautiful white wood, quite plain, for the purpose of being ornamented, by ladies, in the Chinese style. The subjects generally represented are Chinese figures and landscapes, Indian flowers, or grotesque ornaments. Patterns on paper, and the colour, which is black, used in the operation, are also supplied at the same places. Tracing paper is to be laid over the pattern, and the outline drawn with a pencil. The tracing is then placed with the pencilled side downwards on the wood, and the pattern, which will plainly appear through, is rubbed with the handle of an ivory folder, or of a penknife, so as to transfer the pencil lines to the wood. This outline must then be sketched in with a pen dipped in the black colour to be used for the ground. All the shades and lines in the design should be correctly finished by the pen, after the manner of line engraving; and the whole of the ground, or space sur- rounding the outline of the figures, must be covered with the black colour, laid on with a camel's-hair pencil. When the paint- ing is dry, the whole article should be finished with a transparent varnish; to perform which, however, it should be observed, that a thin coat of isinglass-size is to be passed over the wood previously to the tracing. The varnish to be used is white mastich. The general effect is very pleasing, and resembles ebony inlaid with ivory. It is also an art very easy of attainment, and requiring but little proficiency in drawing. LITHOGRAPHY. A few words on the subject of the recently-introduced art of Lithography, we recommend to the attention of students, who are desirous of multiplying impressions of their drawings for the gratification of their friends. The principle of the art arises out of the antipathy (if it may be so called) of grease to water. A drawing is made on a fine absorbent stone, which is imported from Bavaria, with a crayon of a greasy nature ; the stone then undergoes a chemical process, and is saturated THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 469 with water by the printer. It may easily be conceived, that when a printing-ink of an oily nature is applied to the surface, it will only adhere to the lines which are drawn upon it by a crayon composed of materials in affinity with itself. The stones and the chalk ; as it is commonly, though incorrectly called, may be ob- tained from the lithographic printers. The chalk is prepared from substances of a greasy nature, and hardened by an alkali, which is extracted, after the drawing is made, by the chemical process before mentioned: black is mixed with it merely to render the lines perfectly visible to the eye of the artist; it would print equally well though the crayon were colourless. This remark is made, to impress upon the student the importance of keeping everything of a similar nature from the stone, as it will infallibly appear in the impressions: not even the coolest hand must touch this sensitive material. The extreme care and delicacy requisite upon this point, form the peculiar difficulty of the art. When the drawing is finished, the stone is to be sent to the person from whom it was obtained, with an order to print as many impressions as the artist may desire. To those who are desirous of acquiring a proficiency in this art, we strongly recommend an attentive perusal of Hullmandel's Treatise on Lithography. ORIENTAL TINTING, OR POONAH WORK. Flowers, fruit, butterflies, &c. from original pictures, may be executed, in a very brilliant manner, in Poonah painting, or Ori- ental tinting. A piece of tracing-paper, of a peculiar manufacture, which is sold at the stationers' shops as Poonah-paper, is laid on the subject to be copied, and all the parts of one colour are marked in outline on it with a steel point ; the interior of the outline is then cut out, either with a sharp-pointed penknife, or with little instru- ments, made for the purpose, which are sold at the shops where drawing materials are procured. Another piece of tracing-paper is then laid on for the purpose of marking and cutting out all the compartments of another colour; and so on, until a series of frames, or formules, is obtained, each of them having apertures, through which the whole of some one colour can be laid on the paper. The principal formule is to be placed on a piece of London drawing-board, and the colour applied with a flat Poonah brush, held perpendicularly: the parts are then to be shaded from the edge as may be requisite; the colour being first nearly all rubbed 470 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. out of the brush on a piece of waste paper. Each colour is to be laid on, in the same way, through the apertures of its own formule. The wings or bodies of beautiful insects are sometimes ornamented with touches of gold or ruby bronze. A little gum water, mixed with a small quantity of the gold or bronze, is laid on the paper with a brush; dry gold, or bronze, is then applied with another brush to the same part, and rubbed until it becomes smooth and polished. A small light spot is obtained by laying a drop of water on any part previously coloured, and absorbing the colour from it with blotting-paper. The rich dark specks on the wings of some insects are produced by lamp-black, laid on with a pencil. To produce a regular series of streaks, or bars, the edge of a piece of Poonah tracing-paper, cut in a proper shape, should be used as a guide to the brush. It is necessary to wash the frames, or formules, with a sponge after having used them; and separate Poonah brushes should be provided for the different colours, as well as for the various shades of each: about two dozen will be found sufficient; but a few camel's-hair pencils are also necessary to finish such parts as cannot be completed by means of the patterns in the tracing-paper, such as small spots, minute streaks, the delicate antennae of insects, &c. The formules for the various colours may be cut out of one piece of tracing-paper when the subject is small. The colours are the same as those in the common style of water-colours. Chromes are used for yellows; neutral tint for the dark shades, and smalt and carmine for purples; a brilliant scarlet is indispensable. A very good effect may be pro- duced by colouring the wings of a butterfly on both sides, cutting it out neatly, gumming its body to a bouquet of flowers, in Poonah- work, and raising the wings a little from the surface. For this purpose an incision must be made in the under side of the drawing- paper with a knife, where the wings are joined to the body. In the choice of colours, the young artist should follow Nature as closely as circumstances will permit; otherwise her productions in Oriental tinting will prove offensive, rather than pleasing, to persons of taste. MODELLING WITH RICE-PAPER. Rice-paper is principally applied to the formation of groups of flowers, either on card-board, or affixed to small vases, baskets, &c. in festoons and clusters. The rice-paper may be procured in various colours, and intermediate tints may be made by colouring THE ORNAMENTAL ARTISTV^^. -471 the white. Several pieces of rice-paper are laid on each other upon a tablet of lead, and the leaves and component parts of flowers are cut out with small steel punches, which may be procured, in every variety of form, at the fancy tool warehouses. A sufficient quantity of the different leaves having been thus formed, and placed on separate trays, each leaf is to be held by a delicate pair of tweezers, and its end affixed, with stiff gum-water, to the article to be ornamented. Thus, the heads of roses and thick clusters of flowers, are formed, and fine delicate parts may be drawn in colours afterwards. Water-colour drawings are frequently made on leaves of rice-paper, for scrap-books, screens, &c. The effect of the colours, if properly managed, on this material, is very soft and delicate. MODELLING IN PASTEBOARD AND PAPER. The following tools will be found necessary for making boxes, and other kinds of fancy paper or pasteboard ornaments: A pa- rallel ruler, with a small wheel at each end, which may be pur- chased at any mathematical-instrument maker's; a flat ruler, with brass-bound edges, to prevent its being notched when cut against: a carpenter's square (Fig. 1>) the sides of which, e f, are rectangular; consequently, by placing the side f against any straight line, and ruling another with the side e, two sides of a square are produced; by reversing its position, ruling as before, a square may be formed with very little trouble; inches, and their usual subdivisions, should be marked on the side e. To rule parallel lines, a T square (Fig. 2) 2 will also be found of considerable utility. For this purpose, the paper should be fastened to a drawing- board, and the top part of the ruler placed against the edge of the board; the lines are then to be ruled by the side of the long part of the instrument, and if it be carefully moved along the drawing-board, the lines will be parallel: much of the trouble occasioned by using a parallel ruler may thus be avoided: it is re- quisite, however, to observe that the paper is fixed square on the board. Instead of the common clasp pen-knives, which, being apt to slip and shut suddenly when used to cut pasteboard, are rather dangerous, we recommend knives of different dimensions, and of various degrees of strength. For the smaller sizes, the blade should 40 472 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. be immoveable: the most convenient shape is indicated by fig. 3. In cutting pasteboard or paper, the ruler, which is used to guide 3 the knife, should be pressed evenly and firmly on the paper; the blade must be carried as close to the ruler as possible; care being at the same time taken not to injure its edge. A pair of compasses, having a moveable leg, with pencil, steel ruling-pen, and knife, to fix in, are essential implements : the knife is used for cutting out circles, so as to avoid the unevenness generally occasioned by scissors. A crimping-machine, which is formed of a block of brass, fluted on one side, with a roller of the same width and with the same-sized flutes, to match the block, will be found exceedingly useful: in using it, place the paper, or whatever you wish to crimp, on the block, then press and turn the roller over it by the handles. A drawing-board, made of wood, well-seasoned, and securely-clamped at the edges to prevent it from warping; punches, of different forms and sizes, for making holes ; a pair of small pincers, a file, and brass pins, for fixing the paper on the drawing-board when not strained, will also be found necessary. PASTEBOARD BOXES. As the forms of all sorts of fancy ornaments may be infinitely varied, we shall merely give examples of general principles, leav- ing their application, in a great degree, to the taste of our fair readers. To make a square box, draw the shape of the bottom the A size the box is intended to be ; and for the sides, draw lines parallel to the bottom, at the distance of the intended depth (Fig. 4;) the corners should be cut as shown by the dotted lines ; the lines of the bottom, on the edges intended to be outward, should be cut half through the paste- board, and turned up at right angles to the bottom; they are then to be pasted to a strip of pasteboard about half an inch deeper than the box. The lid is made exactly in the same way as the box itself, with the exception of the inner piece of pasteboard. The edges of the top are to be joined by fixing narrow ribbon on them with gum; and, for the sake of uniformity, ribbon of a similar colour should be gummed round the edges of the lower part. The top and sides may be decorated with drawings (Fig. 5,) and the corners and edges bound with strips of coloured paper, instead of ribbon. THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 473 Strictly speaking, all kinds of boxes ought to be made on a block of wood, of the shape they are intended to be : the block should be introduced before the sides are turned up, which must then be gummed or pasted together, and the whole bound and left to dry on the block : but by care and delicate handling, the absolute necessity of blocks may be superseded. CARD BOXES. These boxes are made on the same principle as the former, but of the shape and size of a pack of cards: they generally have a notch in the upper part to admit the thumb and finger, in order to extricate the cards. By this plan, however, in a short time, ^r\^6 the outside cards become soiled; to remedy which inconvenience, we recommend the following me- thod: make an incision in the front and back of the lower part of the box, about two-thirds from the bottom ; pass a piece of ribbon, the width of the incisions, through each of them; fasten one end to the outside by a small bow, and at the other end attach a small button, leaving so much ribbon in the inside, that when the cards are put in, it will be flat under them, on the bottom of the box, without a crease (see dotted lines, fig. 6.) To take them out, pull the small button, which will draw the ribbon straight, and, consequently, lift the cards. This contrivance may be applied to similar boxes made for any other purpose, such as to contain "a beautifully-bound little book, &c. (Fig. 7, the card- box.) BASKET AND WORK-BAG. From among the many varieties of shape in which baskets with work-bags may be constructed, we select the following: For the bottom, a piece of card- board of an oblong shape is cut partly through, all round, within half an inch of the edge, which is then bent so as to form an obtuse angle (Fig. 8;) the sides are made separate, and in the shape of fig. 9; at the dotted line, and also at the line a below it, the card-board should be cut half through ; the part below 474 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. the line a is fastened with gum to the upper edge of the bottom, so as to form an obtuse angle with it. Make and fix all the sides in a similar way ; and when securely gummed to the bottom, fasten them together with a strip of thick paper, gummed on the inside of the edges from the bottom up- wards to the dotted line ; the upper part above which will then fold over and form a sort of covering (Fig. 10.) The parts of the card-board which are cut half through, should be covered with strips of gold-paper, and the whole may be ornamented with draw- ings of flowers, &c. The bag should be made of silk, without a bottom, and gummed round the inside of the basket (Fig. 11,) which, when the bag is folded up, will completely conceal it. The bottom of the basket may be mounted on four gold balls securely fastened to the corners. PASTEBOARD BASKETS. Pasteboard baskets, in a variety of forms, may be constructed on the same plan as the boxes. One of the best shapes is that of an inverted pyramid : this merely requires considerably less of the corners to be removed than in making a rectangular box. Cut the corners as shown by the dotted lines, fig. 12; fasten the sides in the same manner as those of the boxes. The handles may be either single or double, and made to spring from the corners, or the middle of the sides; if only one be preferred, it should always spring from the 13 middle: they are generally made of a narrow slip of card-board, covered either with gold paper or narrow ribbon, ga- thered very full on each side of it; the game kind of ribbon should be gathered equally full round the upper part of the basket, and small bows should be added to each of the corners. The basket may be lined and covered with coloured paper or silk, or its sides decorated by draw- ings, embossed gold ornaments, or otherwise, according to the taste and fancy of the artist (Fig. 13, pasteboard basket.) THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 475 HYACINTH STANDS. The lower part of the hyacinth stand is made of pasteboard, on a cylindrical block: it should always be three or four inches in height, but its diameter must be regulated by the size of the glass intended to be placed in it. The interior should be lined. The four wires must rise about fifteen inches above the stand: they should be fastened in the inside before the lining is introduced. The best plan of fixing, is to glue them strongly, and afterwards to gum a stout piece of paper over them ; they may be connected, at different heights, by pieces of the same material pass- ing round them. Gold and coloured paper, cut into narrow fillets, may be turned round these wires, or they may be ornamented with sealing-wax, of different colours, melted in spirits of wine to the consistence of a thick varnish, and turned round the wires in rotation by means of a camel's-hair pencil (Fig. 14, hyacinth stand). WHAT-NOTS, OR CARD RECEIVERS. What-nots, or card receivers, may be made in a variety of shapes. To construct a card receiver in the shape of fig. 15, cut 15 16 a piece of card-board for the back (Fig. 16); bind the edge of the upper part with gold- paper ; and paste dead gold paper, on the sides, shading it ac- cording to taste; the lower part should be bound with coloured ribbon; the front is to be formed in the same shape as the lower part of the back, and bound with ribbon; n it may also be ornamented with diamond figures, (as fig. 17,) in the following manner: cut another piece of pasteboard the same size, and paste them together, first cutting the diamonds in the outer, or front one; gum small circular pieces of gold-paper on the intersections, or diamonds, and lightly shade the intervening spaces. To join 40* 476 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. the front and back together, sew stiff ribbon or silk, of half an inch or an inch wide, to the narrow ribbon, with which each of them is bound. They may either, when finished, be suspended by a small piece of ribbon, gummed to the upper part of the back, or may be placed on stands, like other chimney ornaments. On the same plan, by fastening a small circular box on the inside of the front, and cutting a circle out of the front itself, a stand for a time-piece may be formed CRIMPED PAPER HAND SCREENS. The paper commonly used for making these hand-screens, is glazed and coloured on both sides. Divide a sheet into three parts or equal strips, of two of which the screen is to be formed; join them into one length, crimp them with the machine, and run a thread completely through one of the edges, first putting on the other edge, which will be the margin of the screen, a narrow border of gold paper. Having fastened one end of the thread, begin to draw the crimped paper into a circular form (see fig. 18, which shows this partially done) : when the lower part, which in the en- graving appears straight, is drawn by the thread into the shape of the upper part, fasten the two ends firmly together. The handles 19 may be purchased at any fancy repository, either black or white, according to taste. The taper end, which is the part to be fastened to the screen, should be covered with paper of the same colour as the screen. Gum the handle firmly on, taking care that it covers the part where the paper is joined; it should extend, for the sake of strength, to some distance be- yond the centre. For the purpose of entirely concealing the junction on the centre, gum a star, or some other pretty and appropriate orna- ment, on each side of the screen : one or two bows of narrow ribbon may be put on different parts of the handle, by way of finish. The two ends of the paper should be so contrived, that the handle, being neatly and firmly gummed on one of them, the other may wrap securely over, with- out showing where they are joined (Fig. 19). THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 477 TRANSPARENT SCREENS. Draw on rather a thin piece of drawing-paper, any kind of figure, animal, or small composition ; for instance, a boy hold- ing a mouse in a trap, with a dog jumping up towards it. The design should be sketched very lightly, without any dark shadows. Trace it exactly on another piece of paper, line for line; then, by adding a frock, bonnet, curls, bracelets, &c, the boy may be changed to a girl; particular care being taken to keep the entire outline of the boy on the folds, &c. of the girl's frock: or the mouse-trap may be converted into a cage, by lengthening the bottom; the mouse into a bird, by the addition of plumage; and the dog into a cat, by putting a longer tail, rounder head, &c. Again, should the first drawing be a boy blowing bubbles, by the addition of an old hat, longer skirts to the coat, a little beard and a few wrinkles, and blending the bubbles into a little cloud, an old man, smoking his pipe, may be produced. When the second drawing is finished, cut it out neatly, and paste it at the back of the first, with great care, so that the lines of the original, and the copy which has received the additions, may be exactly opposite each other. At the back of these, paper is to be pasted on, and the production may then be used as the interior, or centre ornament of a screen. When it lies flat on the table, or if placed against the wall over the chimney- piece, with the front exhibited, the first picture only is seen : when held against the light, or fire, it changes into the second. The taste and ingenuity of the artist will, doubtless, suggest a variety of de- signs, which will be more elegant in the original, and more amusing in the change, than those we have mentioned. In accordance with our plan of leaving as much as possible beyond the general mode of operation to our readers, we refrain from suggesting any other subject. Handles may be added, similar to those of the screens we have before mentioned, and they may be ornamented in the same way. To strengthen the paper part of the screen, a thin piece of wire, covered with gold paper, should be fixed round its LANDSCAPES, &C. ON TRANSPARENT SCREENS. Landscapes, that will appear like beautiful sepia drawings, for the embellishment of screens, may be made in the following manner: Draw, and then cut in paper, any kind of building, taking care to keep it in good perspective. On the parts where 478 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. the shadows fall, paste pieces of paper, varying in thickness ac- cording to the deptli of the shadows, from coarse brown paper to thin post. Round the mouldings of the windows, &c. paste narrow slips; and, if the requisite depth of shade should not be produced, paste other slips, of equal or less thickness, until the part is deepened to the proper tone. Foliage, water, and clouds, maybe very effectively indicated by the same means; the shape of their shadows being cut out and pasted on as above directed ; and where these shadows become deeper, other pieces of paper of a less size are to be cut out and pasted on as before ; thus, not only the mere masses, but all the variations of light and shade may be produced ; as. also, the nice gradations and soft blending of one into another, as well as the abrupt projections. A moon- light view produces the best effect when the shadows are suffi- ciently strong, which may be ascertained by holding the work opposite a good light. Paste it between thin paper, and at the corner from whence the light proceeds, put a round spot of oil or varnish, to imitate the moon. The landscape may also be improved by putting a little varnish round the edges of the lightest parts with a camel's-hair pencil. It may be formed into screens, and deco- rated and strengthened in the manner described under the head of Transparent Screens. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the landscape can only be seen when the screen is held up between a light and the spectator; nothing, however, must be drawn or fixed to its surface ; but the edges may be elegantly embellished. EMBOSSING ON CARD. Various devices of flowers, leaves, wreaths, &c. may be em- bossed on card-board, for the purpose of forming ornamental borders, groupes of flowers, centres of hand-screens, &c. by raising the design on the surface of the card with a penknife. The subject should not be sketched in pencil, as it would be difficult to rub out the outline afterwards without destroying the embossing: but the blunt point of a tracing-needle may be employed for this purpose. The penknife should be held in a sloping, 01 nearly flat position, with the edge towards you; and the flowers are formed by making a series of slanting incisions in an oblique direction, so as to raise the face of the card a little. A stalk may be formed by cutting a series of waving lines; small rosettes, or flowers of a star shape, are made by small circular incisions; leaves, like those of the fern, are composed of one long incision down the middle, THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 479 and a succession of short ones up the sides. In cutting rosettes it is better to hold the knife still and move the card round: an infinite variety of forms may be produced by varying the length and shape of the incisions. Care should be taken not to cut through to the back of the card, and the penknife must be of that kind which is called sabre-pointed, PIERCING COSTUMES ON PAPER. Turkish or other figures, in Oriental costume or draperies, are produced by a combination of water-colour painting, for the fea- tures, with a series of small punctures made with needles of various sizes, for the dresses. The face, hands, and feet being first drawn and coloured, the outline and folds of the drapery are marked with a tracing-needle, the paper is then laid on a piece of smooth cloth, or a few sheets of blotting-paper, and the punctures inserted in the folds of the dress, from the front to the back of the paper; the drawing is then laid with its surface downwards, and the interior of the various outlines filled up with punctures made with a very fine needle, from the back to the front of the paper. It sometimes affords a pleasing variety, if the costume be wholly or partially coloured, as it relieves the monotony of the white. Needles of various sizes should be used at discretion, and the whole of the backrground or body of the paper painted in some sober opaque colour, to throw up the figure. CHARADE FLOWERS. Cut a piece of any coloured paper in an oblong form. Rule a very light pencil line along the middle of it, lengthwise, and, taking the centres in that line, describe segments of circles completely across the paper ; fix the compasses again at the opposite side of each segment, and join the two extremities (Fig. 20;) the segments on one side of the paper must then be neatly cut out and the whole piece creased by the hand. Run a thread through the part not cut out, draw it into a circle, and thus the form of a flower will be obtained. Make a handle of wire, and fasten it to the flower, covering the seam which will be in the centre, with a piece of paper representing the central filaments of the flower. The wire should be covered with thin green paper, or gauze, twisted into the shape of a stalk; 480 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. at intervals, introduce a leaf or two, formed likewise of green paper, with a thin piece of wire up the centre to preserve the 21 shape and resemble the stem (Fig. 21.) Before creasing the flower, charades, enigmas, &c. should be written on each of the imitative petals. The artist may carry her representa- tion of flowers, on the above principle, to a very considerable extent. She may use double, or even treble paper, placing one piece behind another; and, by a judicious selection of co- lours may copy, not merely the shape, but the various tints of the flowers. She will show her good taste by imitating, as closely as possible, the colours of her original; instead of substituting red for lilac, blue for green, or yellow for vermilion, &c. An immense variety of other elegant and useful articles may be constructed of pasteboard and paper; indeed, the application of the art is so extensive, that it would be impossible for us to afford space for describing an hundredth part of the various works in those materials which have fallen beneath our notice. The ele- mentary principles of the art may be sufficiently acquired by constructing the articles which we have described, to enable the young artist to copy others, or to fabricate and embellish novel- ties of her own invention. Working in pasteboard is by no means restricted to trifling productions: very elaborate and exquisitely- finished architectural subjects, ingenious models of the most deli- cate works, grottoes, trees, &c. and even views on an extensive scale, may be admirably executed in parchment or paper, either in a plain state, or coloured to imitate the objects represented. The attempt to describe the mode of constructing such a class of works, would be fruitless; proficiency in this amusing, and we may venture to say instructive, art, is only to be attained by practice, taste, and natural ingenuity. Several of the boxes, baskets, &c. classed under the subsequent heads of the Ornamental Artist, are constructed on nearly the same principles, and some of them partially made of the same material, as many of the articles described in the preceding pages ; from such, therefore, the reader will derive a still further insight into the art of working in pasteboard. THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 481 MODELLING IN GLASS. With a little ingenuity, very neat and elegant boxes, and other ornaments, may be constructed of glass; the parts being bound together with ribbon in such a manner as to produce a very pleas- ing effect. Boxes may be made in a variety of forms, according to the inclination and taste of the artist: we shall commence by giving directions for making one of the most simple shape. OBLONG GLASS BOX. Procure from a glass-cutter the following pieces of ground glass: four in an oblong form, of precisely the same length and breadth, for the top and bottom, back and front; and two others, equal in depth to the back and front, and in breadth to the top and bottom, for the ends. It is indispensable that all the pieces should be cut with accuracy, otherwise it will be impossible to put them together so as to produce a correct shape: the artist should, therefore, send patterns in pasteboard, the accuracy of which she has previously proved. The next step is to bind the edges of each of the pieces with narrow ribbon. The mode of doing this is very simple: begin at one corner of the glass with one end of the ribbon, and thence carry it round the entire edge of the piece of glass, until it is brought to the corner from which you commenced, where the two ends must be neatly and firmly sewn together. It is necessary to bring the ribbon round as tightly as possible, and to keep the edges of the glass in the centre of its breadth. Having done this, the ribbon is to be pressed down on each side of the glass; it should then be plaited at each of the corners; the plaits must be fastened with a stitch or two of silk; and when the last of them is done, the inner edges of the ribbon will be stretched so as to lie close to the surface of the glass, which will thus be completely and securely bound. Silk of precisely the same colour as the ribbon should be used in sewing the corners, and the ribbon should be kept tight, and stitched securely at the plaits, otherwise the box, when complete, will not be sufficiently firm to retain its shape. All the pieces, being bound in this manner, are to be succes- sively stitched together, in their proper situations, by the bindings. The stitches are only to be inserted at the corners : they must be drawn tolerably tight, and may be concealed by little bows of ribbon, 489. THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. or rosettes. The box is then to be mounted on small knobs or pe- destals, of ivory or wood, pierced round their upper edges, and fastened with sewing silk to the binding of the four corners of the bottom; to the interior of which, a cushion of wadding or wool, covered with quilted silk, may be tacked. The back part of the lid, after being bound, is to be stitched at the corners to those of the back ; thus hinges of sewing silk will be formed. To lift the cover, a bit of ribbon, terminating in a bow or rosette, must be tacked to the centre of its front binding; and for the convenience of suffering it to remain open, the cover may be prevented from falling back by two pieces of ribbon, of equal length, being tacked to the corners of the front and the front corners of the lid. The box is now complete, and will form rather an elegant ornament to the toilet (Fig. 1.) GLASS BOXES WITH RAISED COVERS. A box, very superior in appearance to the foregoing one (which we have described rather on account of its simplicity than for any beauty in its shape), may be made, with a very little additional 2 trouble. Let the bottom be cut square; the front, back and sides of equal lengths, but rather less in depth than the breadth of the bottom. The pieces are to be bound, fastened together, mounted on pedestals, and ornamented as the box before described. The top consists of five pieces of glass; four of them cut as fig. 2, being as broad at a as the lower part of the box, and the fifth a square, having all its sides equal to the breadtli of the other four at 6. The five sides are to be bound and fastened together at the corners ; each of the large pieces form- ing one side of the cover, and the little square one, being fixed to them by their upper edges, constituting its top. All the corners are to be ornamented with bows, or rosettes, and the cover fastened on with a ribbon to raise it, and others to prevent it falling back, in the manner before described (Fig, 3.) THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 483 TEMPLE, OR COTTAGE BOXES. The covers of these may be made to resemble in shape the roof of a cottage, or temple. In the former case, the lower part of 4 the box must be longer and rather narrower, and / \ the cover be made of four pieces only; two in a triangular shape, as fig. 4, a, for the ends, of the same breadth at the bottom as the ends of the lower part of the box ; and two others, as 6, for the sides, equal in length to the sides of the box, and in depth, to that of the sides of the triangular pieces. If it 5 be intended to make the box in the form of a temple, the lower part may be cut in a square or an oblong shape, either in front or at the sides. The top is made nearly as the preceding one, except that triangular pieces of less depth must form the front and back, as fig. 5, c, and broader pieces for the sides of the box, as fig. 5, d. DIAMOND BOXES. Another variety of shape is the diamond. For a box in this form, the front and back must each consist of two oblong pieces, cut exactly alike. They are first to be joined together at the edges, and then fastened by their lower binding to the sides of the bottom, which should be dia- mond-shaped, and having each of its sides equal to the length of each of the oblong pieces for the front and back. The cover may be either flat, and cut in a diamond shape, or it may be made of four triangular pieces, of equal size, and corresponding in breadth with the pieces at the front and back: it should be tacked to the corner, in the centre of the back, and the two stays fastened to each end (Fig. 6.) It is, however, better to make it rnoveable. OCTAGON BOXES. The octagon is a very graceful form for a glass box : its bottom must be shaped as fig. 7, a, and its sides equal squares, as 6, or 41 484 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. oblong, as c, to match the edges of the bottom. The cover may be flat, and made of a single piece resembling the bottom, or it may be raised, as the top of die temple, or Q c cottage box; in this case, it must consist I | of eight triangles, the base of each of which should be equal to one of the sides of the bottom, as d. Instead of bringing them to a point, which is rather a difficult task, it is advisable to cut off the ends of the several pieces, as e, and fit in a small octagon at the top. The cover may be fastened at the corners of one of the sides, and the stays fixed where the artist discovers they will best keep it in equilibrium when opened. HARLEQUIN BOXES. When the fair artificer, to use an old writer's phrase, on a very different subject to that on which we are now treating, hath travelled thus far; when she is able to make boxes in the forms we have described, she may vary the shapes as well as ornaments. A harlequin-box may be made in any form we have described, or even in a more complicated one: it should be hound with ribbon of any two different colours, which, when placed in juxia-position, will be gratifying to the eye of taste. The binding on one edge should be one of the colours selected; and that of the binding, to which it is tacked, of the other; so also should be the upper edge of the box and the lower edge of the cover. The rosettes, or bows, must exhibit an union of the two colours; a third may even be added; or they may be made entirely of one colour, different from, but still harmonizing, or judiciously contrasting with, those of the binding. It is necessary to observe, that the colours must be selected with judgment, otherwise they will make the box a mere showy, vulgar gew-gaw. BOXES WITH BINDINGS IN VANDYKES AND SCALLOPS. Vandykes and scallops may be made in the bindings of the boxes, either when the ribbon is only of one, or when of two or more colours ; for this purpose it must, however, be rather broader than in other cases. The Vandykes, or scallops, may be cut before or after the binding is sewed on. Taste and propriety must govern the artist in the application of these ornaments ; she would THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 485 render herself obnoxious to criticism, were she to scallop the binding of a diamond-shaped box, and also, but the offence would not be so great, were she to Vandyke that of an octagon. In all cases it is proper that the ornaments should in some measure correspond with the shape. A box in the form of a temple, for instance, would look ridiculous were it to be vandyked, and set off with parti-coloured rosettes; while Vandyke bindings, and ribbons of various colours, would be legitimate ornaments for one of a diamond shape. A temple-shaped box should be bound with ribbons of one colour only. BOXES WITH BEAD OR SHELL TRIMMINGS. Beads, bugles, or small shells, may be used to ornament the edges of glass boxes. The beads, or bugles, should be strung on silk, and then tacked round the edge of each of the pieces of the box, so that, when put together, two rows of beads or bugles will appear at every angle. If shells be used, they must be gummed to the bindings, in regular order, after the box is \ ut together. MIRROR AND PINCUSHION BOXES. Looking-glass may be employed for the sides, front, and corners of the box, instead of ground glass, and the edges ornamented with strips of embossed gold paper; or a piece of looking-glass, as large as the bottom of the box, may be bound and embellished in a similar manner, and fastened inside the top, by tacking the corners of its bind- ing to that of the lower edge of the cover. The mirror-box, if made in the latter way, should stand open, and the cushion may be made into a pincushion, by stuffing it with sufficient wool or wadding to raise the top of it to the edges of the box, and covering it with plain, instead of gathered silk (Fig. 8.) The centre of the cushion may be ornamented with a bow, or rosette ; or if the binding be vandyked, and of two co- lours, with a star (Fig. 9,) formed of the two ribbons used for the binding, decreasing gradually in size, and pinned through their centres. The cover of the pincushion may also be made of tri- angular pieces of silk, of different colours, to match with the harlequin binding. 486 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. PAINTED-GLASS JEWEL BOXES. We shall now proceed to describe a glass box, superior in beauty, as well as size, to any of the preceding; in the embellish- ment of which, the artist may exhibit specimens of her talent as a painter on glass. The best shape for a box of this description is an octagon. The bottom may be made of wood, entirely covered with silk ; and the pedestals should be firmly screwed or glued to it, by the person from whom the wood is procured. Each of the sides should have one or more figures painted on it, in strik- ing and beautiful colours. A fine shell may be depicted on one side ; a bird with bril- liant plumage on another ; a flower of lively hue on a third ; a gorgeous butterfly on a fourth, &c. (Fig. 10.) But all these, as well as any other pictorial embellishments, should be drawn and coloured from nature, or good copies, and not endowed with forms or hues by the caprice of the artist ; who may depend, that however fine her imagination may be, she can never equal the variety, excellence, and harmony of nature. The sides should be bound with ribbon, of a colour that will accord with, but not subdue the paintings: they are to be tacked firmly to the silk that covers the bottom, which ought to be well strained over the wood. For better security, a wire, covered with silk or ribbon, and accurately bent into an octagon shape of the proper admeasurement, and fastened at the ends, may be carried round the inside upper edge of the box, and sewed to the bindings. Com- partments may be made of pasteboard, covered with puffed-silk, over wadding, or wool, placed in the interior, and tacked to each other and to the binding. A better plan, however, is to make sides to the compartments of pasteboard (Fig. 11,) covered with plain silk of a light gray colour, to resemble the ground glass on the outer side; and on the inner, with puffed silk, like the rest of the lining. The compartments and sides should be pasted securely together, so as to be independent of the glass box, into which they may be placed without difficulty. The THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 487 cover may be made of one entire piece of strong ground glass, well bound witli ribbon, and embellished with a groupe of shells or birds, or a bouquet of flowers, with butterflies or brilliant insects among their leaves. Should a raised top be preferred, it is to be made of an octagon shape; for the construction of which, directions have been given in a previous page. A wire may be added to the bottom of the cover, similar to that at the upper edge of the box; and all the sides should be painted to correspond with those below. Any other shape may be adopted for this kind of box; but the octagon, or hexagon, is to be preferred. ENGRAVED-GLASS JEWEL BOXES. These are made as the preceding boxes; engraved glass being substituted for painted, stained, ground, or plain. Pieces of glass may be purchased at any of the fancy shops, with different sub- jects engraved upon them. There is no very great difficulty attendant on executing the engravings; but the operation is rather dangerous, unless performed with care, and by an experienced person. We cannot recommend our readers to attempt it: it is, therefore, unnecessary to describe the process. The engravings ought not to be a jumble of landscapes and single figures, a bust on one side, and an extensive view on the other; but all of them should be of the same character. The ornaments should be simple, and the binding by no means gay. HARLEQUIN AND MIRROR JEWEL BOXES. The jewel box may be made entirely, or in part, with looking- glass, embellished with gold on the bindings, and having a set of pasteboard partitions suitable to its form, which is to be governed by the fancy of its maker. The harlequin jewel box may be hexagon, octagon, diamond, or even oblong, with its front and sides formed of triangular pieces, bound and sewn together (see fig. 12.) Whatever may be its form, the harlequin jewel box should be made of stained glass, the various pieces being of different colours; but judgment and taste must guide the constructer, in selecting them, as well as in the choice of ribbons for the binding: the latter should be vandyked, and finished with very small stars at the corners. 41* 488 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. The divisions in the interior of the harlequin and mirror, as well as all the other glass boxes, may be made to suit the conveni- ence of the owners ; but the compartments should correspond with the shape of the box: thus, if the box be octagon, the divisions should be somewhat in the same style; should its length exceed its breadth, they ought to assume the oblong form; if it be diamond, the triangular. The character of each may be easily maintained, and the size of the compartments, at the same time, be accom- modated to the shape of the articles they are intended to receive. (Figs. 13, 14, 15, oblongs; 16, 17, 18, diamonds; 19, 20, octagons ; 21, hexagon.) 19 The plans of each variety of shape, are not restricted to those above delineated: they are merely specimens, which may be greatly diversified without losing their respective general cha- racters of shape. GLASS JEWEL BOXES, WITH PAINTINGS ON VELVET. These are to be made in the same manner as the painted- glass boxes; except that, instead of ground, plain plate glass must be used. They afford an opportunity for a tasteful display of the artist's talent as a painter on velvet. The subjects chosen should be similar to those mentioned for the designs on ground glass. The THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 489 velvet paintings are to be stitched to the corners of the binding of each piece of glass, before the box is put together: it is to be entirely lined with silk previously to the partitions being inserted. The bindings should be of the most chaste and delicate colours. The observations as to the cover, &c. of the painted-glass boxes, apply to these, which perhaps excel any of the boxes we have hitherto described. A box may be made in this manner on the same, or a smaller scale, for a splendid pincushion; for this purpose, a case to fit the interior, made of stout pasteboard, and well stuffed, should be inserted, and covered with a piece of velvet, on which a groupe of shells or flowers is painted; and on the inside of the cover a piece of looking-glass should be fastened, bound and ornamented at the edges with dead gold paper, embossed, scalloped, or plain, according to the fancy of the artist. GLASS PICTURE FRAMES. A frame for a picture, or case for a bust, may be produced from four pieces, cut as a (Fig. 22,) bound, and sewn together at their ends, b bj a piece, as c, which will serve as the glass in front of the picture or bust, fastened by its binding to the inner edges of the pieces, a; four other pieces, as d, which are to be sewn together by the bindings at their ends, and then fastened in like manner, by the inner edges, to the square formed by the pieces marked as four more, of equal size, to form the bottom, top and sides, which are to be fastened to the outer edges of the pieces, d; the centre glass must be depressed, and the inner pieces of the frame placed in a slanting direction towards it : the outer parts, d, forming an obtuse angle with them, and being placed square on them and the sides. A portrait in stained glass, a small painting on velvet, or a miniature ; a beautiful medallion, or a bust in wax, may now be put behind the glass (Fig. 23,) and the frame or case com- pleted, by adding a back of stout pasteboard or wood, bound and sewn to the edges of the sides. The bottom, top, and sides of a case for a bust must be deeper 490 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. than those for a frame ; and so also should the parts a; the inside of the back must be lined, and have a small shelf or pedestal fixed to it, for the bust to rest on ; any appropriate ornaments may be placed at the corners, to conceal the scams. If a frame, a loop may be fixed in the back to suspend it by ; and if a case, pedestals may be fastened to the bottom, which will be more convenient if made of wood. The piece, c, in front of the picture or bust, should, of course, be plain plate glass; the front, sides, &c. may be ground, stained, or of looking-glass. GLASS BASKETS. Baskets in a variety of elegant forms, adapted both for use and ornament, may be constructed of glass, ribbon, &c. on the same principles as boxes. To describe, or even enumerate all the shapes in which glass baskets are made, would be needless, and encroach upon our limits: they admit of almost every com- bination of figure, and afford a good opportunity for the display of taste and elegance in their construction. We shall offer a few select patterns only, which maybe copied with advantage; and various improvements may be made upon each of them, before any decidedly new combinations of form are attempted. For the first shape which occurs to us, the following pieces of glass are to be procured: A front and back, matching exactly with each other, as a, fig. 24; two ends, as 6, the sides of which must be of the same length as the two lower sides of the back and front, represented in dotted lines (Fig. 24, a) ; an oblong piece for the bottom, the sides of which must be equal to the lower edges of the front and back, and its ends equal to those of 6; and two other oblong pieces for the covers, the sides of which must be of the same length as each of the upper edges of the front and back, a; and their ends equal to those of the side pieces, 6. The front, back, sides, and bottom of the box are to be fastened together by means of narrow ribbon, in the same manner as the different parts of glass boxes; a piece of stout wire, covered with silk, is then to be fixed by its ends from the upper point of the back to the upper part of the front; and to this wire the two covers, c, after being neatly bound with ribbon, are to be fastened by the upper corners \ THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 491 of their binding, either with hinges of strong silk or fine tough wire. The handle may be made of pasteboard, strengthened with wire, covered with silk, and sewn by its ends to the upper points of the back and front. The interior of the basket may be lined with puffed silk and wadding, or in any other manner that fancy may dictate; all the edges of the lower part of the basket, the covers, and the handle, should then be furnished with fringed ribbon, or fringed silk, tacked to the binding; and if the glass be plain, a fine medallion, en- circled by a wreath of roses, &c. in wax, or rice paper, or a fine bouquet of flowers only, may be gummed to the centre of the front and back pieces (Fig. 25.) Trans- parent glass may also be used, and the interior parts decorated with paintings on velvet; or the various pieces which compose the basket may be formed of painted, instead of transparent or plain ground glass. The edges and handle may also be ornamented in a variety of modes, and with various neat and elegant trimmings. A basket of a more difficult construction may be made in the following manner: Procure, for the top and bottom, two octagon pieces, as a (Fig. 26) ; and for the sides, which are formed of an upper and a lower series, sixteen pieces, as 6 6; the narrow edges of all these must be equal to the several sides of the top and bottom pieces, a : being first separately bound with narrow ribbon, they are to be tacked in pairs by their wide ends, and then fastened together by the sides of each pair ; the bottom piece is also to be bound and fixed in the usual manner to the ends of the lower series of side pieces. The top must be fastened with silk ribbon or wire hinges, by its binding, in such a manner that it may fall upon and rest on the inside of the edges of the upper series of side pieces. The handle may be formed of pasteboard and wire, covered with silk, and sewn firmly to the edges of the basket. (Fig. 27.) The whole of the binding, and the sides of the handles, may then be ornamented in the same manner as those of the 492 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. basket first described; the glass may be either plain, ground, painted, or transparent, with small paintings on velvet inside; the lining may be puffed or plain, according to the fancy of the maker. Another basket, which may, by some persons, be considered of a superior form, is made precisely in a similar way to the one we have just described, with this addition; namely, that a row of oblong pieces, equal in length to the upper edges of the lower series, and the lower edges of the upper series of side pieces, are carried entirely round the centre of the basket, fastened to each other by the ends, and to the pieces above and below them, by their sides. These oblong pieces are usually ornamented with a running pattern, worked in rice paper on their surface, on velvet inside them, or otherwise, according to the taste and powers of the artist (Fig. 28.) A very elegant basket may also be made in an octagon or hex- agon shape, with the sides cut as in fig. 29: these may be bound and 29 fastened together in the manner we have before directed in other cases; or ribbon may be gummed round the edges of each piece, and when dry, other slips of ribbon may be fastened to them with gum, so as to connect the side pieces at a with the respective sides of the bot- tom, in the manner of hinges ; ribbons are then to be attached to the points 6 6, of the pieces forming the sides ; by means of which they are to be tied together, the fastenings being made to assume the forms of elegant bows ; a piece of whalebone, with ribbon twisted round it, or otherwise decorated, according to fancy, will form the handle : it is to be bent over the basket, and tied down to the bows, by which the side pieces are fastened. The shape of the basket may be varied by making the side pieces longer and narrower than fig. 29; in this case it is advisable to use plain glass, lined with paintings on velvet. If the side pieces should be cut as fig. 29, or still broader, the basket will, of course, be more flat and open; and as the inside of it will be most exposed to view, it should be handsomely lined with puffed silk, or be made of stained or painted glass. THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 493 Common glass may be used for baskets ; it may also be made to resemble ground glass, by gumming or pasting crepe lisse en- tirely over the surface of one side. The ribbon is then attached to the edges, as before described, letting its edge on one side neatly cover the edge of the crepe. Paintings may be executed on the crepe lisse with water colours ; a little gum being mixed with the water used in the process, to prevent the colour from running. One colour must be allowed to dry before another is laid over it. Various other elegant ornaments may be formed of glass, as allumette cases, what-nots, &c. by applying the principles laid down in the foregoing descriptions. These and their decorations we leave to the reader's ingenuity and taste; as, were we to describe the numberless articles which are, or might be formed of this beautiful material, and the combinations of ornament with which they may be embellished, our task would be almost endless. MISCELLANEOUS ORNAMENTS. Under this head we purpose offering to our readers descriptions of the modes of making baskets in worsted, allspice, lavender, straw, &c. screens, of different materials; working in gold thread, beads, bugles, &c. WORSTED WORK-BASKET. This basket is composed of a frame, or skeleton, made of round bars of wicker-work, and entirely covered with worsted. The frame (Fig. 1) must be obtained of a basket-maker. It is to be worked all over with worsted, in several shades, of any co- lours that taste may suggest; as, for instance, five or six of the intermediate tints, from dark brown to a pale yellow colour. A double quantity of the darkest shade but one will be required, for cover- ing the handles and rims : for this purpose, a quantity of the worsted is placed, doubled, in a netting-needle; and with it the two lower rims are wound round as closely as possible, so as to avoid showing the wicker between, and yet so regularly that the threads do not lie over each other: 494 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. these are then to be wound with the next shade lighter, doubled, and entwined spirally, and about an inch apart, merely as an ornament. The handles are done in a similar manner. The side of the basket should then be marked, up one or more bars, with a pen, into twice as many equal parts as there are shades of worsted. The work is then to be commenced at the bottom by entwining the darkest colour round the bars, in the manner we shall presently describe, to the extent of one division; the lighter shades follow in succession to the middle, where they are to be gradually dark- ened again to the top. The mode of winding the worsted on the sides is very simple: the proper shade is taken in the netting- needle single, and having tied the end to a bar, the needle is passed from the inside of the basket over the next bar; the worsted is entwined round that bar, brought inside the basket again, passed over the following bar, and thus round the basket until it is entirely covered: the space between the two lower rims should be covered first, in two of the lighter shades. The ends of the different shades must be tied together with great neatness, so that the knots may not be seen ; and with care, lest they become untied after the basket is finished. The inside of the basket will be perfectly smooth, and the shape of the bars will appear on the outside. The upper edge of the basket may be ornamented wilh fringe, composed of loops made by netting a portion of each shade of the worsted on a thread of strong silk, with a mesh of three quarters of an inch wide, keeping the loops close together, so as to produce a very full and rich appearance. The top rim must be measured and divided into three parts, and each third sub- divided into as many parts as there are shades in the worsted used for the sides, and all the shades should occur successively in each of the three parts. The netting is wound round closely, but not too tightly. The different shades are to be netted sepa- rately; and as each shade is wound on, the end of the silk on which it is netted must be tied to the beginning of the next. The bottom of the basket should be a piece of stiff pasteboard, covered on each side with satin to harmoni/e with the shades of the sides; the stitches may be hidden by a cord of two shades of twisted worsted sewn on round the inside. MOSS BASKETS. The appearance of moss on the outside of these baskets is produced by worsted of the same kind as that used for embroidery THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 495 m worsted. Four or five shades of green, and as many of brown, m regular gradations, should be selected ; the darkest shades of green being of an olive tinge, and the lightest of a yellowish hue, in preference to grass green, which has not the mellow autumnal tint of the colours before-mentioned. One skein of each colour is sufficient for a pair of baskets. The shape, or body of the basket, is formed of pasteboard: it is usually round or oval, and made with or without a handle across, according to fancy. The paste- board shape is covered, inside and out, with green silk; and if a handle be affixed, it should be sewn on, outside, where the joining will be covered by the moss, so that the silk may appear neat within. The worsted of each colour should be wound into a separate ball, and knitted, either flat, or round like a stocking; a piece of thread should then be passed, by means of a needle, through the last row of loops, or stitches, and fastened at each end, in order to prevent the knitting from unravelling. The worsted should then be thoroughly wetted or soaked in warm water, and placed in an oven of gentle heat until perfectly dry. After this, the respective pieces must be unravelled and made up into small bunches, which are to be sewn so thickly on the silk, with which the outside of the basket is covered, as to leave no apparent spaces between them. Each bunch should be composed of about three shades of colour, made up in the following manner : The several pieces of knitting being selected, a few rows of each are to be unravelled, and all the ends being taken up at the same time, are to be held between the thumb of the left hand and the side of the hand, as low and near the joint as possible : the upper part of the thumb being then slightly relaxed, the worsteds are, 2 with the right hand, wound round the thumb and finger of the left hand, like a figure of 8, and held in that position while the middle (including the ends with which it begun and left off) is sewn together with a piece of silk. The bunches should be placed in heaps according to their re- spective shades, and sewn on the basket according to taste, inter- mingling the hues so as to avoid the appearance of formality. The handle is covered with bunches of the worsted in the same way as the body of the basket (Fig. 2.) 42 496 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. STRAW BASKETS, TEMPLES, &C. Procure some bundles of whole round straws, of precisely the same length and thickness, from a straw-bonnet manufactory. If you determine that the shape of your intended basket shall be round, cut out a circular piece of pasteboard for the bottom (Fig. 3,) and another, ra- ther larger, for the upper part (Fig. 4) : cut the interior of the latter entirely out, leaving only a margin about half an inch wide. Cut all the straws the length you intend the depth of the basket to be: for this purpose, use a sharp pair of scissors, of rather a large size, and handle the straws very delicately, as the least rough usage will split and render them totally useless. With a punch, the exact size of the straws, make holes all round the middle of the pasteboard meant for the upper part of the basket, and also pre- cisely the same number round the edge of the bottom, keeping them about a quarter or half an inch distant from each other, according to the size of the basket, those at the top being more distant from each other than those at the bottom. Then take the straws, one at a time, and introduce one end of each into the margin of the top, and the other into the bottom part of the basket, leaving about half an inch projecting at each end beyond the paste- board. If the straws should be too small for the holes, they may be fastened by a little gum. A handle may be formed of pasteboard, gummed on, and decorated with gilt ornaments, or bound over with straws pressed flat. The beauty and strength of the basket may be increased by entwining ribbon among the straws; thus producing a kind of chequered work (Fig. 5.) One variety of these baskets is made by form ing the top and bottom of the same size; anc< when the straws are all put in, the top and bottom are twisted a little, in contrary direc- tions, so as make the middle part appear smaller than the sides. Should the artist decide on making a straw basket of any other shape, the foregoing directions are to be attended to without variation, except as regards the form of the top and bottom. THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 497 To make a cottage or temple ornament, cut out a piece of pasteboard for the bottom, as for the baskets, arranging the shape according to taste, and introduce the straws for the sides, in the same manner as directed for making baskets; and, if making a temple, leave a considerable space at one part for the entrance. For the roof, if a cottage, bend a piece of thick drawing-paper into the proper shape, and along each side of it make holes for the admission of the straws, which form its sides; pass each straw of the latter through the holes made in the former, which, if well arranged, will hold it firmly together: by leaving a wide margin to the roof, it will overhang the sides, and form the eaves. Press some straws flat, and gum them on each side of the roof; and for the two ends, or, as they are technically termed, gables, cut pieces of drawing-paper to the shape of the roof; gum them on, and ornament them in any fanciful way, either with straws or otherwise (Fig. 6.) A chimney may also be 6 made of coloured pasteboard, and let into the roof. A good effect may be produced by form- ing the sides of a cottage with Bristol-paper, painting the doors, windows, &c. and intro- ducing it into the interior of the cottage ; when, if it be well contrived, the straws will appear as a portico round it. Very small artificial flowers, imitating woodbine, &c. may be introduced among the straws, and will greatly add to the beauty of the whole. The roof of a temple, whether it be round or hexagonal, is to be constructed in a similar manner to that of a cottage: form the pasteboard on the same principle; gum the straws on the same way; and to finish it, add an acorn, or any other little ornament, to the top. LAVENDER BASKETS. These are made, like straw baskets, of pasteboard ; but, instead of a straw, two or three stalks of lavender are to be introduced. The appearance of these, when lined with silk, or interwoven with ribbon, is very elegant: they like- wise possess the advantage over straw baskets, of diffusing a most pleasant odour. The centre of the stalks of lavender, between the top and bottom, may be bound with very narrow ribbon, of a deli- cate and appropriate colour, neatly finished in rosettes, or little bows, in front. They may be made in a variety of forms (Fig. 7.) 498 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST ALLSPICE BASKETS. The allspice berries should be steeped in brandy for some time, in order to soften them, and then perforated with a small borer. The berries are strung on a slender wire, sufficient to form the circumference of die bottom of the basket, and the ends are neatly twisted together with a pair of pliers, and then formed into a round or an oval, at discretion. Wrought gilt beads strung between the berries, very much improve the general effect of the basket. The interior of the bottom is composed of wires strung with the berries, and crossing each other so as to form dia- monds, or any more fanciful shape. The first row, for the sides, consists of a series of small arches, fixed at their bases to the bottom circle, by twisting one wire round the other. The second row consists of another series of arches, the bases of which are fixed in a similar way on the summits of the first row ; a third row, in the same manner, completes the height of the basket. A series of semicircles, or bows of wire, strung with the berries, is then fixed to the top row, so as to project over the sides of the basket: from the extremities of these are hung festoons of the berries, strung on silk. The handle is made of two wires, strung as the others, and crossing each other so as to form a succession of diamonds. It is proper to string the berries as the bending of die wires pro- ceeds, and where the wires cross each other, or appear to do so, a larger gilt bead should be introduced. The interior of the basket is lined with doubled satin, gathered at top and bottom, and pulled in puffs through the arches in the sides. The whole is ornamented with ribbons and bows, according to fancy. (Fig. 8, Allspice basket.) WAFER BASKETS. Make a basket of Bristol-paper, of any shape you please, as fig. 9, for instance ; then with good wafers, of different colours, form stars in die following manner, to decorate them : Cut a wafer in halves, wet the straight edge of one of them, and stick it directly across the centre of a whole wafer; divide odiers into THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 499 quarters, and fasten six of such quarters to the whole wafer, in the same manner as the half one, at equal distances, so as to form a star of eight rays (Fig. 10.) When a sufficient quantity of stars are made, wet the bottoms of the whole wafers, and arrange them with taste on the basket, so that the exterior of it may be nearly covered (Fig. 11.) 11 A handle may be formed of a strip of Bristol-paper, decorated in the same manner; or, rather, with small rosettes of narrow ribbons, of various colours, if it be intended to be handled (Fig. 11.) FEATHER BASKETS. Take the quill feathers of any bird whose plumage is variegated or beautiful; for instance, that of the pheasant: remove the bottom or quill parts, and introduce the feathers Wto a piece of pasteboard, pierced for their recep- tion, and cut to whatever form you may think fit: bend a piece of wire into the same form, but rather larger than the bottom ; fix the ends together, and fasten the feathers to it at regular distances from each other (Fig. 12.) A handle of wire, or pasteboard, covered with a portion of skin with the feathers on it, may be added. The basket should be lined with coloured silk, or gold paper. ALUM BASKETS, &C. The method of encrusting baskets with alum is very simple ; but success depends, in some measure, upon chance, as the crystals will frequently crowd together in one or two parts, and leave others uncovered. Dissolve a quantity of alum iu so much water, that rather less than half of it will be sufficient to cover the basket. As much alum as can be dissolved must be put in, so as to make what is called a saturated solution, which must be poured into a saucepan, or pipkin, and slowly evaporated, or boiled away, until 42 * 500 1HE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. less than half of the original quantity remains ; it should then be removed from the fire, and poured into a jar of a convenient shape : the basket is to be immersed in it, and the jar, with its contents, set aside to cool gradually; care being taken that it is not shaken or moved, otherwise the crystals will not form regularly. The basket, or whatever else is intended to be covered, must have all the parts equally rough; so that if wire be used for making the shape, it should either be filed, or covered all over with worsted; common willow baskets, however, answer die purpose best. To obtain a group of crystals for a mantle-piece specimen, any rugged substance answers for a nucleus : a cinder, or a peach-stone, are among the best. The crystals may be co- loured yellow by boiling a little saffron or turmeric with the alum ; and purple, by a similar use of log-wood: the deepness of the shade, of course, being regulated by the quantity used of the dyeing material. Whether the alum be employed in its simple state, or any colouring matter be added, it is requisite to filter the solution through blotting paper before it is evaporated. The beautiful deep-blue rhomboidal crystals of sulphate of copper, or blue vitriol, as it is commonly called, are more elegant than those of alum, and are produced precisely in the same manner. RICE OR BUGLE BASKETS. These baskets are made of card-board, and afterwards orna- mented with rice. The best shape to make the basket is that of an inverted cone without a top, the sides being cut into diamonds: line it throughout with paper, or silk, of any agreeable colour, and gum grains of rice on the intervening spaces of the card-board. Should the effect of the rice appear monotonous, vary it with coloured beads, &c. or bugles alone may be employed, instead of rice. Baskets of this description may also be very elegantly deco- rated with groupes of small shells, little artificial bouquets, crystals, or the fine feathers from the heads of birds of beautiful plumage. LAVENDER FAGOTS. For making these, the lavender should be procured before the flower is blown, and used while the stalks are fresh and green, otherwise they will break in making up. About twenty heads of lavender should be placed evenly to- gether, the leaves and small buds that grow beneath the head THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 501 having been first removed. One end of a narrow ribbon, of any bright colour, should be tied round the whole tightly, close under the heads, so as to form a bow, and leaving the remainder of the ribbon about a yard long. The stalks are then to be bent back- wards over the heads of lavender, and the ribbon being first doubled, or folded over, to make it narrower, must be wound round the faggot spirally; passing it, alternately, over two stalks and under the next two, until the heads are covered; the end of the ribbon is then cut off and fastened in, among the heads, by tying another ribbon in a bow round the stalks, which should be cut oft* about two inches below the last bow (Fig. 13.) A plain descrip- tion of lavender fagot is made by simply tying the heads as before, bending the stalks over, placing them regularly round the heads, and tying the ends together, but omitting the spiral ribbon (Fig. 14.) It is usual to make up a quantity of these fagots with variously-coloured ribbons, and to place them in orna- mental baskets of glass or moss. MOCK-CHINA SCENT JARS. Take a common vase, similar in shape to one of foreign china, or a grape jar, and cover it entirely with widow's-lawn, which may be fixed on by paste. Cut flowers, &c. out of chintz that has a good Indian pattern, and ornament the jar with them, arranging them tastefully in groupes. Procure from a turner a lid and stand to match the jar, and cover and ornament them precisely in the same manner. The jar, cover, and stand, are then to be var- nished by a painter. FEATHER SCREENS. These screens are composed of the wings of birds; and, if the plumage be selected with taste, are superior to almost every other description of screen. The first process, in forming the screen, is to cut, with a sharp pair of scissors, through the skin in the inside of the wing, in the direction of the bones. The skin is then to be turned carefully back from die shoulder to the second joint ; but the bones com- posing the part above that, are so small, and the skin adheres so 602 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. closely to them, that it is necessary to detach them at the first joint, and remove them with the flesh. The skin is then to be stretched straight upon a board with a weight placed upon it. The same process must be gone through with the sister wing. When perfectly dry, place their straight edges in close contact, and sew the skins, as far as the second joints, together. If the skin should be thin, it will be requisite to enclose a strip of card-board, thin wood, or wire, in the place of the bones which have been taken out: these will not only keep the screen extended, but serve also as a firm substance, to which the handles may be fixed. The seam, and the place where the handles are inserted, must be concealed on both sides by stars of gold-paper, or bows of ribbon ; but the most beautiful and appropriate ornaments for this purpose, are circular, oval, or lozenge groupes of feathers selected from the head or the breast of the bird to which the wings belonged (Fig. 15.) GAUZE SCREENS. These screens are made of gauze, stretched over a frame of wire, and ornamented with figures, which are usually cut out of chintz. The handles, as well as the shapes, are merely of wire, bent and fastened in various modes: they may be purchased, at a moderate price, from the fancy-ornament sellers. The gauze must be doubled, stretched lightly over one side of the wire frame, and neatly sewed at the edges, which should be bound with gold or coloured paper. The ornaments, such as flowers, birds, &c. cut out of chintz, are to be gummed on the front of the screens; but should a difficulty occur in procuring a variety from chintz, an engraving, rather gaudily coloured, will answer the purpose. Arti- ficial butterflies, and other insects, look well, if fastened to the gauze by their bodies, with their wings extended. Flowers, also, gummed by their calyces and stems, with their petals free, produce an equally good effect. The handles are bound over with ribbon and decorated with bows. GOLD-THREAD PURSES AND RETICULES. The thread is to be procured at the gold-lace shops : a small loop is formed at the end of it; then, with a tambour-needle THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. 503 passed through that loop, the thread is drawn up again into another loop; and thus, in succession, until such a length has been woven as, the two ends being joined, will form the circumference of the purse. The joining is effected by passing the needle through the two end loops, and drawing the thread up through both ; then five loops are to be formed on the continuation of the thread ; after which, the needle is passed through the third loop from the join, on the completed circle, and the thread drawn through ; five more loops are then formed on the perfected round, as before, and so on in the same manner, until the circle is finished. The succeeding rows are formed by weaving, as before, five loops at a time, and then passing the thread through the thread, or centre loop, of the row last finished: the rounds are still continued until the desired size is obtained. The bottom is completed by drawing the loops together with gold thread, and affixing a gold-bullion tassel. The top is finished by a straight row of running loops, sewn with gold thread to a spring clasp. The lining should be of satin, and rather smaller than the net. ARTIFICIAL FRUITS. Artificial fruit is usually made of wax, cast in plaster of Paris moulds, and coloured after nature. As every fruit is, more or less, of a circular form, it is impossible to take a mould of it in a single piece ; if an apple, for instance, be cased in plaster, the mould cannot be removed in an entire state; it must, therefore, be taken in two pieces: and, if the fruit abound with irregularities, in three, or more. It would be impossible for us to describe the mode of making the necessary divisions, which must entirely be governed by the figure of the fruit. A little experience will enable the young artist to judge in what manner, and in how many pieces the mould of a fruit can be taken. The plaster must be mixed to about the consistence of treacle: and if the subject can be taken in two pieces, having first lightly oiled its surface, one half of the fruit is to be covered with the plaster, the edge of which is to be made smooth with a knife. When the plaster is nearly dry, a few notches are also to be made in the edges, into which, when the other part of the fruit is covered, the plaster will run, so as to make the two pieces exactly fit each other. The mould being completed by laying the plaster on the uncovered part of the fruit, it is to be removed when dry, and soaked for a considerable time in cold water, the parts being kept together in 504 THE ORNAMENTAL ARTIST. their proper place by binding round the whole with string. The wax having been first kneaded with the hand, and then melted to the consistency of cream, is to be poured into the mould at the opening caused by the stalk of the fruit. When sufficiently hardened, cut the string which binds the mould together; remove the pieces with care, and an exact model of the fruit will be obtained. The colours must be procured in a finely powdered state, and may be laid on with the finger, except the more delicate parts, which should be touched with a camel's-hair pencil. For many fruits, however, the colour may be mixed with the wax, and when this is the case, the powder is only applied to give the proper bloom, which, in many fruits, may be imitated with great success. Should any difficulty occur in fixing the powder, hold the wax model a short distance from the fire, and in a few minutes the desired effect will be produced. The veil is drawn upon the Muses' bower; Afar hath flown each Sylph's instructive pen; Fair Science hath resign 'd her regal power, And Painting seeks her native skies again. Unbent is Huntress Dian's shining bow; Music hath ceas'd to sound her magic shell, Or gay Terpsichore her grace to show ; And gray-rob'd Wisdom totters to his cell. But here their various treasures are enshrin'd, Or in the moral or the learned page ; And oft the reader, to improve her mind, May seek, by turns, the Muse, the Gnome, or Sage. While he who thus (perchance but too unskill'd) Presumes to bring their golden gifts to view, Slave of the Lamp, his ministry fulfill'd, Makes his Salaam, and tenders his Adieu ! mi ^A rAV TTSF. TURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT ) +> 202 Main Library )AN PERIOD 1 HOME USE 2 3 5 6 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS nonth loans may bft rc"*w?d by calling 542-3405 ^oar toans may oc- rec'n.vped tJV brina^ig thr t:ocks to th.e Circulation OesK ;new,-als and re ; be made 4 Jays prior to due date DUE AS STAMPED BELOW ra4fl85 * iCEIVED BY f UN 6 1985 'ULATIQN DFF jtCIR.SEP2l '92 1 GENERAL LIBRARY - U.C. BERKE HHfl