Dr. Stanley gives a touching instance of this in a story once told by Sir William Parsons, who was himself a great musician, and who, when a young man, possessed a piping bullfinch, which he had taught to sing "God save the King." On his once going abroad, he consigned the bird to the care of his sister, with a strict injunction to take the greatest care of it. On his return, one of his first visits was to her, when she told him that the poor little bird had long been declining in health, and was at that moment very ill. Sir William, full of sorrow, went into the room where the cage was, and opening the door, put in his hand and spoke to the bird. The dying favourite opened its eyes, shook its feathers, staggered on his finger, piped "God save the King," and fell dead!

Buffon relates that bullfinches which have escaped from their aviary, and have lived at liberty in the woods for a whole year, have recollected the voice of the person who reared them, and have returned to their former home. Others have been so strongly attached to their masters as to die of grief, when separated from them. From the same authority we learn that the bullfinch is extremely sensible of any injury, and remembers the persons by whom it was inflicted. An instance is given of a bullfinch which was thrown down, with its cage, by some of the lowest order of people, and who ever afterwards went into convulsions at the sight of shabbily dressed persons, until in one of these fits it expired, eight months after the first accident.

Instances of the affectionate nature of these birds might be greatly multiplied. A lady who had been a severe sufferer in health for many years, found in a tame bullfinch a constant and faithful companion. It might have been supposed that the bird was conscious of her sufferings, so unobtrusively did it remain perched on her couch, attentively watching for the moment when her finger should be extended in token of permission to approach. At this welcome signal it fluttered towards her with apparent joy, nestling against the pale cheek, and giving to the wearied invalid a momentary sensation of pleasure. The accidental dropping of the cage from a considerable height caused the death of the poor bird, and deeply did the invalid feel her loss, during the short remainder of her days.

The familiarity and sagacity of the bullfinch are also illustrated by the following account, kindly furnished to us by a clerical friend. "My poor bullfinch was remarkably tame and familiar. I was accustomed to open his cage at breakfast time, and if from any cause I failed to do so, he made me understand by his actions that he considered himself badly used. When set at liberty he flew to the table, and picked up the crumbs that chanced to be lying upon it, or received a piece of loaf-sugar, of which he was very fond, from my hand: he would also take food from my mouth, and sometimes he presumed so much, and was so impertinent, that I was compelled to drive him off. He one day observed himself reflected in the polished surface of a steel lock attached to a writingcase, which greatly excited his anger, and it was most amusing to see how he erected his plumage, and hissed* defiance at his own image, and ever after, when allowed to leave his cage, he sought this lock for the sake of quarrelling with himself. It afterwards occurred to me to try the effect of a looking-glass upon him, and it was interesting to observe that when he had vented his rage, he hopped to the back of the glass, and not finding the object of his search there, he returned to the front, evidently puzzled, and at a loss to account for the deception. After this the poor fellow often went through his exercises before the lock and the glass, for the edification of my friends. I kept this very intelligent bird for about two years: he died of, I believe, apoplexy, in consequence of a too liberal supply of hempseed, of which he was very fond."

seed, with a very little hemp, and a moderate quantity of green food, such as lettuce, endive, chick-weed, watercresses, &c. They sometimes fall into a state of melan choly, and remain silent and immoveable. Bechstein recommends that they be then kept from all delicacies, and fed entirely on soaked rape-seed. At the moulting time they should have a clove in the water, and plenty of refreshing green food.

WALTER AND WILLIAM. CONTENT not always waits upon success, And more may he enjoy who profits less.

Walter and William took (their father dead) Jointly the trade to which they both were bred; When fix'd, they married, and they quickly found With due success their honest labours crowned Few were their losses, but although a few, Walter was vex'd and somewhat peevish grew. "You put your trust in every pleading fool," Said he to William, and grew strange and cool. "Brother, forbear," he answer'd, "take your due, Nor let my lack of caution injure you." Half friends they parted,-better so to close, Than longer wait to part entirely foes.

Walter had knowledge, prudence, jealous care; He let no idle views his bosom share; He never thought nor felt for other men"Let one mind one, and all are minded then." Friends he respected, and believed them just, But they were men, and he would no man trust; He tried and watch'd his people day and night,The good it harm'd not; for the bad 'twas right; He could their humours bear, nay disrespect, But he could yield no pardon to neglect; That all about him were of him afraid, "Was right," he said,-"so should we be obey'd." These merchant maxims, much good fortune too, And ever keeping one grand point in view, To vast amount his once small portion drew.

William was kind and easy; he complied With all requests, or grieved when he denied. To please his wife he made a costly trip, To please his child he let a bargain slip; Prone to compassion, mild with the distress'd, He bore with all who poverty profess'd, And some would he assist, nor one would he arrest. He had some loss at sea, had debts at land, His clerk absconded with some bills in hand, And plans so often fail'd that he no longer plann'd.

To a small house (his brother's) he withdrew,

At easy rent-the man was not a Jew,
And there his losses and his cares he bore,
Nor found that want of wealth could make him poor.
No, he in fact was rich, nor could he move,
But he was follow'd by the looks of love;
All he had suffer'd, every former grief,
Made those around more studious in relief;
He saw a cheerful smile in every face,
And lost all thoughts of error and disgrace.

Pleasant it was to see them in their walk
Round their small garden, and to hear them taik;
Free are their children, but their love refrains
From all offence-none murmurs, none complains;
Whether a book amused them, speech or play,
Their looks were lively, and their hearts were gay;
There no forced efforts for delight were made,
Joy came with prudence, and without parade;
Their common comforts they had all in view,
Light were their troubles, and their wishes few:
Thrift made them easy for the coming day,
Religion took the dread of death away;
A cheerful spirit still insured content,
And love smiled round them wheresoe'er they went.

CRABBE.

*This word best expresses the peculiar sound emitted by the bullfinch when he is angry or jealous.

love life? then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of.-FRANKLIN'S Memoirs.

REMARKABLE SOUNDS IN NATURE.

I.

MOST persons who are accustomed to attend to the varied phenomena of nature, must have heard, at times, strange sounds which they were at a loss to account for. Any one who has sat alone in a retired dwelling during the stillness of a calm night, may remember to have heard, occasionally, low murmurings rising and falling on the ear, which ignorance and superstition, or an imagination uncorrected by religion or science, too often converts into sources of terror, instead of remembering the words of our Divine Teacher, "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof; but canst not tell whence it cometh and whither it goeth." John iii. 8.

We are about to call the reader's attention to a few of the remarkable noises heard in nature, and to endeavour as far as possible to trace them to their respective sources. Our sketch must necessarily be imperfect, but our chief object is to satisfy our young friends that the unaccustomed sounds in nature startle, because they occur seldom, or during the night only, when the busy sounds of day are hushed, or being observed only in particular spots, they thus fall mysteriously upon the

ear.

There are, however, many sounds audible to an attentive ear by day, which are as difficult to explain as the nocturnal sounds just alluded to. The author of the Journal of a Naturalist remarks, that the purely rural, little noticed, and, indeed, local occurrence, called by the country people, "hummings in the air," is annually to be heard in one or two fields near his dwelling. "About the middle of the day, perhaps from twelve o'clock till two, on a few calm sultry days in July, (he says,) we occasionally hear, when in particular places, the humming of apparently a large swarm of bees. It is generally in some spacious open spot that this murmuring first arrests our attention. As we move onward the sound becomes fainter, and by degrees is no longer audible. That this sound proceeds from a collection of bees, or some such insects high in the air, there can be no doubt; yet the musicians are invisible. At these times a solitary insect or so may be observed here and there, occupied in its usual employ; but this creature takes no part in our aërial orchestra."

A writer in the Edinburgh Philosophical Journal, objects to the opinion contained in the above quotation; first, because the fact is stated as being local and partial, heard only in one or two fields, at particular times of the year when the air is in a certain state, viz., calm and sultry. In the next place, he doubts whether the sound is really produced by insects "high in the air;" "for it so happens," he adds, "that, in the bosom of a thick wood, where there is a space partially opened, though still a very narrow and confined spot, in days precisely such as he describes them, i.e., sultry, and in the middle of summer, when the air is calm, I have often paused to listen to a similar aërial humming, appearing to result from some unseen power close at hand, which for several years I hesitated not to attribute to insects, an opinion I felt compelled, though reluctantly, to give up, since after the most diligent search, I could never detect the presence of any collected body sufficiently numerous to account for the effect. Many of the properties of sound have hitherto eluded the powers of science, and much that is mysterious still remains to be unravelled."

The writer last quoted gives another example of a remarkable sound, which although it is by no means of common occurrence, is sufficiently frequent to be almost generally known in the immediate neighbourhood where it occurs. A map of Cheshire will show that from within a short distance eastward of Macclesfield, a range of hills extends in an irregular curve to the north-west, forming a sort of concave screen, terminating somewhat abruptly over the comparatively level plains of that part of the county. In different parts of these, as well as in more elevated spots, at the various distances of from four to six miles or more, at certain seasons of the year,

usually in the early part of spring, when the wind is easterly and nearly calm on the flats, a hollow moaning sound is heard, popularly termed the "soughing of the wind,” and evidently proceeding from this elevated range, which is intersected with numberless ravines or valleys. Hence it probably happens that when the atmosphere is in that precise state best adapted for receiving and transmitting undulations of air, a breeze, not perceptible in the flat country, gently sweeps from the summits of the hills, and acts the part of a blower on the sinuosities and hollows or cloughs, as they are called, which thus respond to the draught of air like enormous organpipes, and become for the time wind instruments on a gigantic scale, producing those striking and melancholy modulations so well expressed by the provincial word soughing, derived most probably from the old Welsh substantive suad, a lullaby, or the verb suaw, to hush, to lull, to rest; or, as Sir Walter Scott in his glossary interprets it, a hollow blast or whisper. "Hist," exclaims one of his characters, "I hear a distant noise." the rushing of the brook over the pebbles," said one. "It is the sough of the wind among the bracken," said another. And again, when old Dousterswivel is keeping his midnight vigils near "goot Maister Mishdigoat's grave," the melancholy sough of the dying wind is fitly associated with "strains of vocal music, so sad and solemn, as if the departed spirits of the churchmen who had once inhabited those deserted ruins, were mourning the solitude and desolation to which their hallowed precincts had been abandoned."

"It is

That the intensity of sound is greatly increased by night cannot be doubted, and this has been ascribed by Humboldt to the presence of the sun acting on the propagation and intensity of sounds by opposing them with currents of air of different density, and partial undulations of the atmosphere, caused by unequally heating different parts of the earth. In these cases, tions which produce the sounds are divided into two where the air suddenly changes in density, the vibrawaves, and a sort of acoustic mirage is produced, in the same manner as a luminous mirage takes place from a similar cause. But there are, probably, other causes connected with the presence or absence, excess or diminution of solar heat, of moisture, &c., which may operate both in the increase and continuance of sound, while many peculiarities of place, or season, may create or modify certain sounds, which being local admit only of special explanation.

Captain Parry, during the intense cold experienced in Winter Harbour, was surprised at the great distance at which the human voice could be heard: "I have," he says, "often heard people distinctly conversing, in a common tone of voice, at the distance of a mile; and to-day, I heard a man singing to himself as he walked along the beach, at even a greater distance than this." The strong tendency of sound to ascend has also a great effect. Humboldt has remarked, that the barking of a dog has been heard when the listener was in a balloon at an elevation of about three miles. It has Mountain, which is 3600 feet high, and the upper part also been noticed, that from the ridge of the Table of which rises perpendicularly at the distance of about a mile from Cape Town, every noise made below, even to the word of command on the parade, may be distinctly heard.

He says,

The ease with which sound travels over water, is well known, but to what extent would scarcely be credited, had we not the most undoubted evidence, viz., that of the celebrated traveller, Dr. Clarke. "A remarkable circumstance occurred, which may convey notions of the propagation of sound over water, greater than will, perhaps, be credited; but we can appeal to the testimony of those who were witnesses of the fact, for the truth of that which we now relate. By our observation of latitude, we were one hundred miles from the Egyptian coast; the sea was perfectly calm, with little or no swell, and

scarcely a breath of air stirring, when the captain called our attention to the sound, as of distant artillery, vibrating in a low gentle murmur, upon the water, and distinctly heard at intervals during the whole day. He said it was caused by an engagement at sea, and believed the enemy had attacked our fleet at Alexandria. No such event had, however, taken place, and it was afterwards known that the sounds we then heard, proceeded from an attack, made by our troops, against the fortress of Rachmanie, on the Nile beyond Rosetta. This had commenced upon that day; and hence, alone, the noise of guns could have originated. The distance of Rachmanie from the coast, in a direct line, is about ten leagues; this allows one hundred and thirty miles for the space through which the sound had been propagated when it reached our ears."

Dr. Arnott relates a case where the sound of bells was heard on board a ship sailing along the coast of Brazil, far out of sight of land. The sound was heard during an hour or two, at a particular spot on deck, and it seemed to vary as in human rejoicings. All on board came to listen, and were convinced as to the existence and nature of the sound, but to account for it was impossible. Months afterwards it was ascertained, that at the time of observation, the bells of the city of St. Salvador, on the Brazilian coast, had been ringing on the occasion of a festival: their sound, therefore, favoured by a gentle wind, had travelled over, perhaps, a hundred miles of smooth water, and had been brought to a focus by the concave sail in the particular situation on the deck where it was listened to.

Many remarkable sounds in nature are produced by repeated reflection from surfaces. In some situations the sound of a cascade is concentrated by the surface of a neighbouring cave, that a person accidentally entering it is startled at the uproar. In the gardens of Les Rochas, once the well-known residence of Madame de Sevigné, is a remarkable echo, which illustrates finely the conducting and reverberating powers of a flat surface. The Chateau des Rochas is situated not far from the interesting and ancient town of Vitré. A broad gravel walk on a dead flat, conducts through the garden to the house. In the centre of this, on a particular spot, the listener is placed at the distance of about ten or twelve yards from another person, who, similarly placed, addresses him in a low, and, in the common acceptation of the term, inaudible whisper, when, "Lo! what myriads rise!" for immediately from thousands and tens of thousands of invisible tongues, starting from the earth beneath, or as if every pebble was gifted with powers of speech, the sentence is repeated with a slight hissing sound, not unlike the whirling of small shot passing through the air. On removing from this spot, however trifling the distance, the intensity of the repetition is sensibly diminished, and within a few feet ceases to be heard. Under the idea that the ground was hollow beneath, the soil has been dug up to a considerable depth, but without discovering any clew to the solution of the mystery. On looking round for any external cause, the observer who has supplied this description, says, "I felt inclined to attribute the phenomenon to the reflecting powers of a semicircular low garden wall, a few yards in the rear of the listener, and in front of the speaker, although there was no apparent connexion between the transmission of sound from the gravel walk and this wall. The gardener, however, to whom I suggested this, assured me that I was wrong, since within his memory the wall had been taken down and rebuilt, and that in the interim there was no perceptible alteration in the unaccountable evolution of these singular sounds."

On the smooth surface of ice, and on a much larger scale, a somewhat similar effect has been observed. The following instance is given in HEAD'S Forest Scenes:

March 7. The frost continued, and the cold increased to a very low temperature, the effect of which upon the extended sheet of ice, which covered the bay, was somewhat remarkable. It cracked and split from one end to the other, with a noise that might have been mistaken for distant artillery; but this, when it is taken into conside

ration that the sheet of ice was fifteen or sixteen square miles in area, and three feet thick, may be easily imagined. Nor was this all: I was occasionally surprised by sounds produced by the wind, indescribably awful and grand. Whether the vast sheet of ice was made to vibrate and bellow like the copper which generates the thunder of the stage, or whether the air rushing through its cracks and fissures made a noise, I will not pretend to say, still less to describe the various intonations which in every direction struck upon the ear. A dreary undulating sound wandered from point to point, perplexing the mind to imagine whence it came, or whither it went, and whether aerial or subterranean, sometimes like low moaning, and then swelling into a deep toned note, as produced by some eolian instrument, it being in real fact, and without metaphor, the voice of winds imprisoned in the bosom of the deep. This night, (March 7,) I listened for the first time to what was then perfectly new to me, although I experienced its repetition fell very suddenly. on many subsequent occasions, whenever the temperature

CURIOUS CHESS PROBLEMS.

IX.

THE following is a remarkable example of the Prox COIFFÉ, or capped pawn, in which the first player puts a ring, or a little paper cap, over a particular pawn, with which he undertakes to give his adversary check-mate.

This problem is by MICHELE DI MAURO of Calabria, who is celebrated by Salvio as an excellent player, "worthy of all praise." He flourished about the end of the sixteenth century.

It may be of use to the young student to be reminded that, in all such cases as the present, where the mate is required to be given by a particular piece or pawn, the last move being known, the number of moves required to be discovered is, in effect, reduced by one; for example, the present problem requires for its solution five moves, but as the last move is known, the student has to discover only four moves, whereby he brings the pieces into such a position that he is enabled, at the fifth move, to give check-mate with the Pawn. White to move first, and to give check-mate with the Pawn which now occupies the King's fifth square in five moves.

1667. 13s 4d. Two masters and forty grammar scholars also formed part of the establishment as founded by Henry the Eighth.

In 1544, the church at Westminster was discharged from paying the stipends of the king's university students, on consideration of yielding up lands to the annual amount of 1671. And two years afterwards other estates were surrendered to the yearly value of 400l., that the church might be released from the salaries of the professors. A portion of the latter sum was given to Trinity College, Cambridge, the rest to Christchurch, Oxford.

In 1550, Bishop Thirleby surrendered his bishopric, in submission to the will of Edward the Sixth, who reunited the diocese with that of London. Thus the episcopal dignity of the church at Westminster was of brief duration. No notice had been taken on this occasion in the king's letters patent of the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, and it appeared doubtful whether their canonical condition was to be considered as legal. This occasioned an act of parliament, which constituted the church a cathedral in the diocese of London. During this reign, there is record of the zealous efforts of one Alexander Nowell, formerly of Brasen-nose College, Oxford, to afford sound instruction to the youths in Westminster School. Anthony à Wood bears testimony, that such was his zeal to train the scholars in sound Protestant principles, that in the following persecuting reign, the cruel Bonner "would have consigned him to the shambles," had he not luckily made his escape from the country.

Under the government of Queen Mary, a total change took place in the church at Westminster. Again was its monastic character restored, and its subjection to the see of Rome effected. Cardinal Pole assumed the power of re-composing the chapter. He gave the new abbot possession, and took upon himself the whole of the regulations without even requiring the royal assent. During this state of things the school formerly connected with the church appears to have been entirely neglected and given up.

On the happy succession of Queen Elizabeth, Westminster Abbey was destined to undergo another change. It was re-suppressed as a monastery, and in 1560, reestablished on its present foundation as a collegiate church, and endowed with all the lands possessed by the late abbots and monks. This foundation closely resembled that of Henry the Eighth, having a dean, twelve prebendaries, an upper and under master, and forty scholars. These arrangements have also remained undisturbed up to the present time. The second dean, after the re-establishment of this cathedral by Queen Elizabeth, took a precautionary measure for preserving the scholars from the effects of the plague then ravaging London. Holding the prebend of Chiswick at the same time, he obtained the privilege for his church of being tenant in perpetuity of the prebendal estate, that it might afford a place of refuge from any pestilential disease or epidemic for the chapter, the masters of the school, and the scholars. Thus it appears that on some occasions subsequently, the scholars were removed to Chiswick to escape the plague. The same dean, who bore the appropriate name of Goodman, appears to have given his serious attention to the improvement of the school. He brought the scholars into one spacious chamber, regulated the commons, and added to the accommodation of the masters. He is also supposed to have influenced the Lord Treasurer Burleigh in 1594, who gave a perpetual annuity of twenty marks, to be distributed among the scholars elected to the two universities.

During the civil wars, the Dean and Prebendaries of Westminster were in general dispersed, and the school seems to have shared the same fate. In 1645, however, parliament consigned the government of the church to a

committee, and in 1649 this guardianship was further extended by an act for the continuance and support of the school and almshouses at Westminster. The church remained under the control of this committee until the Restoration in 1660, when affairs took their former course, and a dean was restored to the collegiate church of Westminster in the person of the learned and excellent Dr. John Earle.

Westminster School is not separately endowed with lands and possessions, but is attached to the general foundation of the collegiate church, as far as relates to the support of forty scholars. It is under the care of the Dean and Chapter of Westminster, and conjointly with the Dean of Christchurch, Oxford, and the Master of Trinity College, Cambridge, respecting the election of scholars to their several colleges. The boys on the foundation are called King's scholars, from the royalty of their founders, and are in a state of collegiate association. They sleep in the dormitory; have their dinner and supper in the hall; and may have, if they choose to claim it, a breakfast of bread and butter and beer, but the statute ordains that the breakfast hour shall be at six o'clock, and this is alone sufficient to prevent the boys from desiring the privilege. The king's scholars are distinguished from the town boys, who are far more numerous, by a gown, cap, and college waistcoat. This dress is furnished by the college, but in so coarse a material that it is customary for the scholars to provide others of a better fabric, but in the same fashion. For education and for special accommodations, the king's scholars pay the same as the town boys. The privilege by which they are distinguished is, that at the end of every fourth year, about eight or nine of their number are elected to Christchurch, Oxford, and Trinity College, Cambridge; in the former case to studentships worth from forty to sixty pounds per annum, in the latter to scholarships of of much less value. The election is in May, and much interest is required to get a boy elected to Oxford. But if interest is allowed to sway the election to the universities, it is not so with respect to the election of king's scholars. About thirty town boys propose themselves as candidates from the fourth, fifth, and shell forms, and are left to contend with each other in Latin and Greek, and particularly in grammatical questions and speaking Latin. Two boys will challenge for five hours together in grammar questions; and at the end of eight weeks of constant challenge, the eight boys at the head of the number are chosen according to vacancies; those who have presented themselves below the eight succeed according to the next vacancies, the head master sitting as umpire. This contest occasions the situation of the king's scholars to be much sought after by the boys of all ranks as a distinction; it becomes a solid groundwork of reputation, and incites a desire to obtain the

election.

There are four boys also called bishops' boys; so denominated from their being established by Williams, bishop of Lincoln. They receive a gratuitous education, and are distinguished by wearing a purple gown: they do not, however, live in the college, or enjoy any other advantage, except a small annual allowance, which is not paid while they remain at Westminster, but is suffered to accumulate until the period of their admission to St. John's College, Cambridge, when with some additions it amounts to about twenty pounds a year for four years. These boys are nominated by the dean and the head master.

Among the head masters of Westminster School, from the time of its foundation, there are many eminent names. William Camden, the celebrated author of the Britannia, held that office in 1593; Dr. Busby, the eminent scholar, in 1638; the learned and indefatigable Dr. Vincent, in 1788.

The expense of Westminster School, as it relates to the forty foundation boys, or king's scholars including