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drawn up as they were, with their huge un.
“The musk-ox is seldom solitary, but genegainly heads, enveloped in dark, shaggy hair, rally grazes in herds of from five to twenty in ready for the charge. Waiting until all were number. A bull is always on the qui vive, and prepared, we fired together; for a moment rarely fails in giving due notice of approaching they stood, and thus enabled us to take ac- danger. On such occasions the bulls form in curate aim with our second barrels. No sooner line in front, facing the enemy, keeping the had they received the contents, than the poor cows and calves in the rear. A single shot brutes, all wounded, maddened with rage and seldom proves fatal, in consequence of the per. pain, dispersed in all directions. Before we severance of the animal (even when wounded) loaded to go in chase, two out of the seven had to face its persecutor, thus preventing the fallen. Leaving them to be skinned by the hunter selecting a fatal spot, which is imme. boat's crew, we set out after the wounded diately behind the fore-shoulder : the horny animals. Two of them were making to the excrescence on their heads is almost impervious westward, along the beach; whilst the other to a ball, and most of them died more from three took inshore. The result was, that not exhaustion, occasioned by loss of blood, than only none of the seven escaped, but four others by effective shots. were killed out of a herd of twelve, which were “They seldom attack when in herds, but descried a mile or two to the westward.
content themselves with shielding the weaker “Thus, in the course of a few hours, no less animals with their bodies. When alone, how. than eleven animals were killed, the quantity ever, great precaution is necessary, for a wound of meat obtained being 1,970 lbs., an average has been known to irritate the musk-ox to such of nearly 1881 lbs. each animal.
a degree, as to cause him to make a furious “ The musk-ox is difficult to kill, in conse- charge on the sportsman; this is the more quence of its coat of thick long hair, as well as dangerous, as, from the peculiar character of a mass of fine wool, interwoven between the the country, shelter from the infuriated animal hair near the skin,
can seldom be obtained.”
CHRISTIANITY AND HUMAN BROTHERHOOD.
OT till the word barbarian was struck speech present itself as a problem that called
out of the dictionary of mankind, and for a solution in the eyes of thoughtful obreplaced by brother, can we look even servers; and I, therefore, date the real be
for the first beginning of a science of ginning of the science of language from the language. This change was effected by Chris- first day of Pentecost. After that day of tianity. To the Hindu every man not twice cloven tongues, a new light is spreading over born was a Mlechha; to the Greek every man the world, and objects rise into view which not speaking Greek was a barbarian; to the had been hid from the eyes of the nations of Jew every person not circumcised was a Gen. antiquity. Old words assume a new meaning, tile; to a Mohammedan every man not believing old problems a new interest, old sciences a new in the prophet is a Giaour or Kaffir.
purpose. It is no valid objection that so many Christianity, which first broke down the barriers centuries should have elapsed before the spirit between Jew and Gentile, between Greek and which Christianity infused into every branch barbarian, between the white and the black. of scientific inquiry produced visible results,
Humanity is a word which you look for in We see, in the oaken fleet which rides the vain in Plato or Aristotle; the idea of man. ocean, the small acorn which was buried in the kind as one family, as the children of one God, ground hundreds of years ago, and we recog. is an idea of Christian growth; and the science nise, in the researches of the greatest philoof mankind and the languages of mankind, is sophers of our own age, the sound of that key. a science which, without Christianity, would note of thought which had been struck for never have sprung into life. When people had the first time by the Apostle of the Gentiles been taught to look upon all men as brethren, (Rom. i. 20). then, and only then, did the variety of human
Urbino on the 6th April, 1483. His Raphael; but in 1833 his tomb was opened, and
excellent painter. Raphael lost his A mould was taken from the skull, and the mother when he was eight years old, and his tomb was closed up again. father three years later. This led to his uncle's He was of a sallow complexion, had brown placing him with the then celebrated Perugino. eyes, was slight in form, and was about five
In 1504 he visited Florence, and was greatly feet eight inches high. Several portraits of impressed with the works of the painters of him are extant, from his childhood upwards. * this advanced school. He made Florence his He was never married, although he was said headquarters until 1508, when he was invited to to have been engaged to Maria Bibiena, niece of Rome. His great work here was the decoration Cardinal Bibiena'; she died before him. His of the dwelling-rooms of the popes in the Vatican paintings and works of art he bequeathed palace, now, through these very frescoes, world- to his two favourite scholars, Penni and Ro. renowned as the Vatican Stanze. They consist mano, then both young men, on condition of of four principal rooms, and are generally de- completing his unfinished works. signated after the most remarkable frescoes There are few departments in the painter's which they contain. The frescoes are of a art in which Raphael did not excel, whether mixed historical and representative or sym. in history or portrait, allegory or ornament. bolical character, illustrating the establish- About nine hundred various works and drawment of the temporal as well as the spiritual ings are attributed to him. His designs are power of the popes; for example, the first room distinguished for religious sentiment, or the contains the “Triumph of Constantine over
utmost dramatic vigour. He evidently had Maxentius,” the “ Appearance of the Cross,” no tolerance for the separation of the sound the “Baptism of Constantine,” and the “Pre- body from the sound mind, believing one as sentation of Rome to the Pope.” In this way worthy of representation as the other. He the genius of Raphael was to a great extent
knew that God made the body as well as the made subservient to the growing assumptions soul, and was free from the superstitious deof the Papacy. As works of art, notwithstand- lusion which has not unfrequently led men to ing the difficulties thrown in the painter's way
infer that an emaciated body, if resulting from from the unsuitable character of the walls,
self-torture inflicted in the desecrated name of and the general meanness of the rooms, these
religion, indicates sanctity of spirit. frescoes are truly monumental, although they
An admirer of Raphael thus refers to an are now, through the neglect and ill-treatment existing prejudice which has arisen in conthey suffered in the seventeenth century, in a
nection with this characteristic of his paintings: deplorable state. All are grand in character “ The grand, vigorous character of Raphael's and in the dramatic truth of composition, and representations, compared with the prevailing some are magnificent even in colour.
predominance of sentiment in earlier works at From this period Raphael was overwhelmed the expense of the physical, has led modern with commissions from his patrons. He pro
affectation and ignorance to pronounce his art duced, amongst other less important works, profane, and a new adjective has been introthe magnificent series of Cartoons, of which
duced into our art criticism, pre-Raphaelite, to seven are now at Hampton Court; and from express this disparagement.” We sympathize the year 1514 he was the superintending archi.
with this vindication of the artist, but his works tect of the new church of St. Peter's.
will never fail to be a security for his fame. Doubtless owing to his multifarious occupa
The same writer refers to “ another innova. tions, weakening his constitution, the career tion of modern times ; spelling his name in of Raphael terminated at the early age of England as the modern Italians spell it, thirty-seven. The proximate cause of his death Raffaelle, a word of four syllables, and yet was fever, brought on by a cold caught whilst pronouncing this Italian word as if it were prosecuting his labours. His body lay in state,
English, as Raphael." "Vasari wrote Raffaello; with his last work, the " Transfiguration,” at
he himself wrote Raphael on his pictures, and his head, and was buried with great pomp in
has signed the only autograph letter we have
A. the Pantheon, or Santa Maria della Rotonda, of his, Raphaello.” at Rome. Superstition long pointed to a skull, * See Frontispiece (a copy from one at Paris), page 285.
Leaves from the Book of Nature: Descriptive Narrative de.
A THOUSAND AND ONE STORIES FROM NATURE,
ORIGINAL AND SELECTED.
BY THE REV. F. 0. MORRIS, B.A., RECTOR OF NUNBURNHOLME, YORKSHIRE, AND CHAPLAIN TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND, AUTHOR OF A "IIISTORY OF BRITISH BIRDS (DEDICATED BY PERMISSION
TO HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN), ETC., ETC.
first request was for a notary, and he hastened
to make a will, leaving a certain annuity to a LXXXVI.
relative on condition of his taking charge of We have the following announcement in one
his best of friends, his little dog, and of watch. of the papers : “Captain seriously ing tenderly over its comforts for the remnant of wounded in the head, has returned to Vienna
its days. This was the secret of his anxiety to with his dog!” Thereby hangs a pretty tale survive. “Now,' he said, “if it be God's will, I of canine affection and sagacity. The captain am content to die.' But I am happy to say was wounded at Magenta in 1859, and lay out
there are strong hopes of saving the gallant on the battle-field. He was missed, and no
gentleman's life, and that it is highly probable tidings could be had of him by the men of his he will himself enjoy the agreeable duty of regiment. But he had at the time a young giving the greatest of all happiness to his dog which had become much attached to him. dumb friend, and that will be his own society." It occurred to his groom that through the agency of this little favourite of his master he
LXXXVII. . might discover him, and so he took the dog Lord Middleton had nearly lost his first with him to the field, and amongst a heap of whip on Monday night. Some of the hounds dead the poor thing discovered the badly were astray at Sledmere, and the whip, who is wounded officer, and howled piteously to at- a stranger, and in his first season, remained to tract the groom's attention. The master was get them together. The night was very dark, brought in, and he considered he owed his life and in taking across the country homewards to the dog, and became more attached to him both horse and rider fell into one of the spring. than ever.
This gallant officer was again heads near Wharram Church, the mare being wounded in the retreat from Königgrätz, and uppermost. Both lay in the cold spring water again was missed. Of course it occurred to his unable to get out, but singularly enough both brother officers who had heard the former story, with heads above the water. The cry of the to try again the former agency of discovery. hounds was heard down the valley to Wharram The dog, now grown old and sage, was brought station, and also by the passengers in the last out, and after a long search set up once more Malton train. The long continuance of the its melancholy cry, and was found rubbing its cries induced a man to go and see what the anxious nose to its master's pallid face. Cap. dogs were about, and he discovered the pitiable tain Gwas again only wounded, but very position of the mare and her rider. The dogs, badly. He was sent down to Vienna, and as however, would not suffer either to be touched, he drove through the city, lying prostrate in a and would certainly have worried any one at: carriage, it was noticed that a poor dog, with tempting a rescue single-handed. After a two anxious and sympathetic eye, lay with its head hours' immersion both were got out. The whip upon his breast.
The anxiety of the officer to was soon got round, but the mare-a very reach Vienna and to live, was noticed as strange valuable one--was apparently the worse of the for one of well-known bravery, who had a hun- two. Had not assistance arrived, the mare and dred times unflinchingly faced death. But his her rider must both inevitably have perished.
would seem to attach to it, the sacred spot has Some four years since on a dark winter's not been wholly disregarded and forgotten. evening, my clerk, W. Robertson, and myself, During all these years, the dead man's faithful left the police office about half past five or six dog has kept constant watch and guard over p.m. My clerk told me next morning the cir- the
and it was this animal for which the cumstance of a farmer's dog, which had jumped collectors sought to recover the tax. up before him barking much just as he went out James Brown, the old curator of the burial of the Inn gates. Robertson struck at the dog, ground, remembers Gray's funeral; and the but it would not go away. He then turned dog, a Scotch terrier, was, he says, one of the round to look if any one was in the road; the most conspicuous of the mourners. The grave dog seemed pleased and ran on before him, was closed in as usual, and the next morning, barking ; but after a few yards Robertson Bobby,” as the dog is called, was found lying turned back. The dog again went after him on the newly made mound. This was an innovaand barked furiously, trying to lead him back ion which old James could not permit, for up the road. He again turned and went on there was an order at the gate stating, in the some twenty yards, following the dog, and then most intelligible characters, that dogs were not found the dog's master lying drunk on the admitted. “Bobby" was accordingly driven high road. Had any vehicle come by, he must out; but the next morning he was there again, have been run over. Eventually the man was and for a second time was discharged. The carried into the lock-up, the dog following. third morning was cold and wet, and when The police were debating about locking the the old man saw the faithful animal, in spite dog up too, when it bolted and ran home. of all chastisement, still lying shivering on the LXXXIX.
grave, he took pity on him and gave him some "My other anecdote about dogs referred to a food. This recognition of his devotion gave splendid black Newfoundland, the property of “Bobby" the right to make the churchyard the Grenadier Company of the 39th Regiment his home; and from that time to the present when in Sydney, New South Wales, in 1831 ; he has never spent a night away from his which dog would take jackets, bundles, and
Often in bad weather attempts even soup in tins (covered) from the barracks have been made to keep him within doors, but to men on the main guard, a distance of half by dismal howls he has succeeded in making it a mile, through the streets of the town. Once known that this interference is not agreeable being annoyed and attacked by another dog, he to him, and latterly he has always been allowed quickly growled at him and showed fight by
to have his way. putting the tin on the ground two or three “Bobby” has many friends, and the tax. times, but at last succeeded in taking the dinner gatherers have by no means proved his enemies. safe to the man on guard. He (Charley, for A weekly treat of steaks was allowed him by that was his name) then rushed after the other Sergeant Scott of the Engineers; but for dog and nearly worried him to death. The more than six years he has been regularly fed Company were offered £20 for him when ordered by Mr. John Trail, of the Restaurant, 6, Grey. on to India, which they refused. Alas, poor friars' Place. He is constant and punctual in Charley! he died of liver complaint in six weeks his calls, being guided in his midday visits by after landing, duly buried, and duly mourned the sound of the time-gun. On the ground of for by the whole troops."
“harbouring” the dog in this way, proceedings XC.
were taken against Mr. Trail for payment of A very singular and interesting occurrence the tax. The defendant expressed his willingwas on Friday brought to light in the Burgh ness, could he claim the dog, to be responsible Court, by the hearing of a summons in regard for the tax; but so long as the animal refused to a dog-tax.
to attach himself to any one, it was impossible, Eight and a half years ago, it seems, a man he argued, to fix the ownership; and the Court, named Gray, of whom nothing now is known, seeing the peculiar circumstances of the case, except that he was poor, and lived in a quiet dismissed the summons. The old curator, of way in some obscure part of the town, was course, stands up as the next claimant to Mr. buried in Old Greyfriars' Churchyard. His Trail, and on Friday offered to pay the tax grave, levelled by the hand of time, and himself rather than have “Bobby":"Greyunmarked by any stone, is now scarcely friars' Bobby," to allow him his full name-put discernible; but though no human interest out of the way.
Songs of the Garden.
BY MRS. ELLIS, AUTHORESS OF THE “WOMEN OF ENGLAND."
To welcome the bright June weather;
While the roses sang together. They sang with the gladness of beautiful things,
They sang of youth, and of health, Of the joy of nature when summer-time brings
To the garden its fulness and wealth. They sang of the morning, they sang of the day,
Of noon with its glorious light;
They sang of the dewy night.
To welcome the balmy weather;
But the roses sang together.
Tender and sweet are the hues that spread
Where smiles and dimples play, When the maiden blushes, and turns her head To catch what the one loved voice may have said
In words more precious than gold;
Soft-soft, and sweetly told,
By tenderest feeling shown;
With a beauty all her own.
The distant bugle blow,
cheers, And gathering hosts, that the battle nears;
While quick from his heart of pride
High-high, the living tide
Of the gathering host comes down;
With a beauty all her own.
Song of the Roses.
When the sun sinks in the west,
And out of his fountain of glory fills With molten gold the thousand rills
That leap, and sparkle, and glide,
Down-down the mountain's side, Seeking their home in the ocean's breast. Oh, sweet is that glow with its tints so rare,
When the evening sun goes down;
With a beauty all her own.
When it sleeps so peaceful and fair ;
speak, Afraid that innocent charm to break
With even the whisper of love;
Still-still, as a brooding dove, Pouring her soul in a silent prayer.
Deep is the dye of that deadlier fight,
Where the soul its conflict bears;
Torn with burning thoughts that start
Deep-deep, in the martyr's heart, From the mingled fountain of hopes and tears. Oh, that crimson dye is deep and true,
Where the martyr's faith is shown; But the rose can blush with as deep a bue,
And a beauty all her own.