Archipelago. In some parts of Asia Minor the nightingale is common, and never quits the woods in which it has taken up its abode. These birds are found in considerable numbers on the coast of Barbary, where they are always more numerous at the time when they have quite disappeared from the countries of the north. So powerful is the instinct of migration in the nightingale that those which are kept in activity usually exhibit much agitation, especially during the night, at the periods when the species migrate. The departure and return of these birds is due not only to the change in the season, but to the abundance or scarcity of their appropriate food. When passing through countries which are foreign to them on their route to their winter or summer home, nightingales never pour forth their enchanting melody: it is only during the nesting season, and when they are rearing their young, that those strains are heard which give so much delight. The song of these birds is said to be richer and more varied in some countries than in others. Thus the nightingales of Persia, Karamania, and Greece, are said to sing better than those of Italy; the Italian birds again are valued above those of France, and the French above the English. Whether this be anything more than a fanciful theory, we have no good means of judging; but the following testimony seems to contradict the idea that situation has much influence on the song of this bird. "In 1802," says Mr. Symes, "being at Geneva, at the residence of a friend, about three miles from the town, in a quiet sequestered spot, surrounded by gardens and forests, and within hearing of the murmur of the Rhone, there, on a beautiful still evening, the air soft and balmy, the windows of the house open, and the twilight chequered by trees, there we heard two nightingales sing indeed most delightfully,-but not more so than one we heard down a stair, in a dark cellar, in the High Street, in Edinburgh!-such a place as that described in The Antiquary; no window, and no light admitted, but what came from the open door, and the atmosphere charged with the fumes of tobacco and spirits; it was a place where carriers lodged, or put up,-and the heads of the porters and chairmen, carrying luggage, nearly came in contact with the cage, which was hung at the foot of the staircase; yet even here did this bird sing in as mellow, as sweet, and as sprightly a manner as did those at Geneva." The nightingale is naturally timid and solitary, and arrives and departs alone. It appears in England from the middle of April to the beginning of May, according to the season. At first it remains in hedges and thickets on the borders of cultivated ground, where an abundant supply of food can be procured; but as soon as the larger trees are covered with foliage it retires into the woods, and hides in the thickest recesses. The neighbourhood of some purling stream is generally chosen by the bird, and the male usually has two or three favourite trees near the nest, on one or the other of which he constantly sings during the period of incubation, and never allows one of his own species to approach the spot. The nest is usually commenced about the beginning of May, and is formed with coarse weeds and dried oak-leaves on the outside, and with horse-hair, little roots, and cow-hair on the inside. It is placed near the ground in brush-wood at the foot of a hedge, or on the low branches of some thick shrub, and is so slightly constructed that an attempt to displace it will often cause it to crumble to pieces. Four or five eggs of a greenish brown colour are deposited in it, and the male supplies food to the female while she is sitting. The little ones have the body covered with feathers in a fortnight from the time they are hatched, and quit the nest before they are able to fly, following their parents as well as they can by jumping from branch to branch. When they are fully fledged the mother bird leaves them to the care of her mate, and begins to construct a new nest for her second brood. The full-grown nightingale is a bird of elegant proportions, but of unattractive plumage. It is about five inches long, two and a half of which belong to the tail. The bill is more than half an inch long, slender, of a dull brown colour, with a yellowish tinge at the base of the lower mandible. The upper parts of the body are yellowish brown, the wings and tail dusky, with a reddish tinge at the margin of the feathers. The sides of the neck and flanks are pale ashen grey, passing into white on the throat and the middle of the belly. None of the colours are by any means decided, and there is nothing striking in the appearance of the bird. The female differs little from the male, but the head is rounder, the eyes are rather smaller, and the throat is not so white. Bechstein notices a striking resemblance between the female redstart and the nightingale, but says of the latter, "His step and attitude are prouder, and his actions more deliberate. When he walks it is by measured regular hops. After a certain number he stops, looks at himself, shakes his wings, raises his tail gracefully, spreads it a little, stoops his head several times, raises his tail several he bends his head towards it, and generally looks at it with times, and proceeds. If any object attracts his attention, only one eye. It is true that he jumps hastily upon the insects which constitute his food; but he does not seize them as eagerly as other birds; on the contrary, he stops short, and seems to deliberate whether it is prudent to eat them or not. Generally he has a serious circumspect air, but his foresight is not proportioned to it, for he falls readily into all the snares which are laid for him. If he once escapes, however, he is not so easily caught again, and becomes as cunning as any other birds." The latter end of April is the usual period of the commencement of the nightingale's song. It ceases or suffers interruption when the young are hatched, but should the nest be destroyed, or other cause prolong the period of incubation, the male resumes his strains, and in places where nightingales abound several may generally be heard in full song during the season. Far and near In wood and thicket over the wide grove That should you close your eyes, you might almost Some naturalists affirm that there is a part of the night in which nightingales seldom sing; that they are not, according to their name, "lovers of darkness," but hail the moonlight or the dawn of day. Others affirm, that they are silent only on dark windy nights, but at other times, having once commenced their song, they continue it without intermission the whole night. "This I know, (says Neville Wood,) from actual observation, having more than once remained out of doors nearly the whole night, purposely to discover whether the bird or the naturalist would first be wearied. If on a dark and windy night it does not sing, it may generally be roused by imitating its strains; if this be done on a favourable night, it will commence instantly; but on a cold and chilly night it is sometimes very difficult to rouse, though I have seldom been so unfortunate as to fail entirely. The shutting of an adjoining gate, the striking of a church clock, the passing of a cart or coach, if near a road, or even the hearing pas sengers walking along the hard turnpike, will frequently cause it to commence singing! the very incidents which one might have supposed would disturb so shy a bird." The nightingale is said to attach himself to the place which gave him birth, and to return to it every year until it has lost its charm or advantage, by the cutting down of trees, &c. If the bird dies or is caught, the convenience of his retreat causes it to be soon occupied by one of his fellows, and the ear, well accustomed to the notes of the former occupant, will immediately detect a difference in the song of the new comer. Many attempts have been made to give a written description of the notes which compose the nightin gale's song; of these, Bechstein's is the most ingenious, though ludicrous in appearance. We shall here content ourselves with a general notice of the bird's powers found in Griffith's CUVIER. "The nightingale unites the talents of all the singing birds, and succeeds in every style; sixteen different burdens may be reckoned in its song, well determined by the first and last notes. It can sustain the song uninterrupted during twenty seconds, and the sphere which its voice can fill is at least a mile in diameter. Song is so peculiarly the attribute of this species, that even the female possesses it, less strong and varied, it is true, than that of the male, but as to the rest entirely resembling it; even in its dreaming sleep, the nightingale warbles. What peculiarly constitutes the charm of this bird is, that it never repeats itself, like other birds; it creates at each burden, or passage, and even if it ever resumes the same, it is always with new accents and added embellishments. In calm weather, in the fine nights of spring, when its voice is heard alone, undisturbed by any other sound, nothing can be more ravishing and delightful: then it developes, in their utmost plentitude, all the resources of its incomparable organ; but from the setting in of the summer solstice, it grows more sparing of its song, it is seldom heard, and when it is, there is neither animation nor constancy in its tones. In a few days at this time, the song altogether ceases, and we hear nothing but hoarse cries and a croaking sound, in which we would in vain endeavour to recognise the melodious Philomela." Great patience, attention, and care, are necessary in the management of a nightingale as a cage bird; yet if the temper and habits of the captive are consulted, he becomes attached to his owner, and has been known to die of regret at a change of masters. If taken at his full growth, he becomes, under proper precautions, reconciled to confinement, and begins to sing in about a week afterwards. Nightingales may either be allowed to fly about a room, or confined in a cage; the latter plan most promotes their singing. The cage must never be less than a foot and a half in length, by about one in width, and one or more in height. The top should be lined with some soft material, that the bird, when first caught, may not injure his head by flying against it. Bechstein gives the following as the best form and proportions for a nightingale's cage :-Length, one foot and a half; breadth, eighth inches; height, fifteen inches in the middle, thirteen at the sides. The sides to be made of osiers about a quarter of an inch thick; the bottom of the same material, but covered by a drawer an inch and a quarter deep. The feeding trough is introduced at the side, with edges high enough to prevent the bird from spilling much of his food. In the middle of the front of the cage, and extending from top to bottom, is a cylindrical projection in the form of a belfry, in which is suspended a large drinking glass. This projection is made of osiers, like the rest of the cage. The middle and lower sticks are covered with green cloth, firmly sewed on, that the feet of the nightingale may be preserved from injury. Green is also the best colour to use for painting the osiers and lining the roof of the cage. But the paint must be perfectly dry, and the cage free from the smell of it, before the bird is put into it. This bird dislikes change of situation during its captivity, and has been observed to cease singing, and to remain obstinately silent, on the removal of its cage from the accustomed spot. It is better, therefore, either to accustom it when it is moulting to continual changes, so as to break through this habit, or keep the cage in one situation during the whole season. The choice of this situation is not a matter of indifference, and the prisoner's taste must be consulted in the matter. Some birds prefer a light and cheerful situation, others appear more lively in a shaded retired corner. On first placing one of these birds in a cage, it is necessary to cover two or three sides of it from the light, as the bird is often so much alarmed when exposed on all sides, that it soon ends its life by dashing against the bars. The food of the nightingale in a state of nature consists of insects, whether in the caterpillar or the perfect state towards the end of summer it also devours elderberries and currants. The bird is naturally voracious, and when in captivity it will accommodate itself to almost any kind of food, provided it be mixed with meat; but it is necessary to be very careful in its diet, in order to preserve health. When the birds are first caught, meal worms and fresh ants' eggs are the first things which should be offered to them: if it is not possible to procure these, a mixture of hard egg, ox-heart minced, and white bread, is given, but this artificial food is very injurious, and often kills the birds. Subsequently, however, this and other mixtures may be given occasionally, in turn with the natural food. Bechstein's directions for keeping up a supply of meal worms, are as follows: The means of always having a plentiful supply of meat worms is to fill a large earthenware or brown stone jar with wheat bran, barley, or oatmeal, and put into it some pieces of sugar paper or old shoe leather. Into each of these jars, of about two quarts in size, half a pint of meal worms is thrown, (these may be bought at any baker's or miller's,) and by leaving them quiet for three months, covered with a bit of woollen cloth, soaked in beer, or merely in water, they will change into beetles (Tenebris molitor, LINN.) These insects soon propagate by eggs, and increase the number of maggots so much, that one such jar will maintain a nightingale. For providing ants' eggs, ("improperly so called, since they are the pupa in their cocoons,") he gives the following hint: For getting them out of the ant hill, a fine sunny day in summer is chosen, and provided with a shovel, we begin by gently uncovering a nest of the large wood ants (Formica rufa, LINN.), till we arrive at the eggs; these are then taken away and placed in the sun, in the middle of a cloth whose corners are turned up over little branches well covered with leaves. The ants, in order to protect the eggs from the heat of the sun, quickly remove them under the shelter which is prepared for them. In this manner they are easily obtained freed from dirt, and from the ants also. Ants' eggs form the best summer food for these birds, and two or three meal worms prove a sufficient addition. A stock of dried ants' eggs may be kept, and mixed with roasted ox-heart and raw carrot, both finely grated. A paste that will keep for years is often made for nightingales, of the following ingredients :--Two pounds of rolled beef, a pound of grey peas, a pound of sweet almonds, an ounce and a half of saffron, and twelve fresh eggs. The meat is minutely hashed, the peas and almonds are pounded as finely as possible, and the whole mixed with the eggs, and an infusion of the saffron. Round cakes are then formed, and baked in a cool oven to the consistence of biscuits. Another paste is like the former, with the addition of half a pound of poppy seeds, the same of roasted millet, two ounces of flour, a pound of white honey, and two or three ounces of fresh butter. The seeds are pounded and sifted, and the whole reduced to a perfect paste. Bechstein, however, is opposed to these preparations, and says that birds fed with them often fall into a decline and die. The love of liberty is so strong in this bird, that it is far from our wish to recommend or encourage the keeping of it in confinement. The delicious strains poured forth from many a grove and copse at this season of the year, may indeed afford the purest delight; but where the habits of the bird are so entirely opposed to domestication, and where the slightest inattention, as to its peculiar food, may cause it a miserable and untimely death, there is every reason to be contented with the free and happy song of the bird at liberty, and to refrain from subjecting to imprisonment the most charming and poetical songster of the British Isles. PUBLIC SPECTACLES AND GAMES AMONG THE ROMANS. I. PUBLIC games had in their origin a useful and honourable object. The youth exercised themselves in the combats, and thus prepared themselves to defend their country in danger. From all parts of the civilized world, the most illustrious heroes went to Greece to dispute for the prize of horse and foot-racing, of wrestling, of boxing, of archery, and many other pursuits. The great poets and artists employed their genius to celebrate the glory of the conquerors; and Pindar, in his sublime chants, has made posterity acquainted with their deeds. Rome, of Greek origin, and surrounded with a Greek population, must soon have adopted the customs of her neighbours. Gymnastic exercises agreed with a warlike nation better than any other spectacle. As long as they conduced to preserve the austerity of republican inanners, those glorious combats, in which the youth rivalled each other in strength and skill, were worthy of a people entirely given up to the love of their country; but when this people had conquered the world, and accumulated in their capital the riches of the three continents, these exercises degenerated into bloody fights, whether of human beings or of beasts, in which morality and all the better feelings of our nature were most atrociously outraged. Our subject naturally divides itself into two portions, which may be treated of in order;-1st, The games of the Circus; and 2nd, The shows of the Gladiators. 1. THE GAMES OF THE CIRCUS. These games were supposed to have been originally dedicated to Mars, and to have been celebrated in the field of Mars, and in the month of March: but we have to observe that, among the ancient Romans, GAMES constituted a part of religious worship. They were of different sorts at different periods of the republic. They were at first consecrated to some deity. Oftentimes, they were vowed by generals in war, in the event of their success; and they took place also upon extraordinary occasions; so that the stated regularity of their recurrence was much diminished. The CIRCUS-the grand scene of the races, both horse and foot, and of other games-was first built, we are told, by Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth king of Rome, about 600 B.C. It was afterwards, at different times, magnificently adorned. Its site was adjoining to Rome, and it was of an oval or circular form, whence came its name. It was about 3 furlongs in length, and one furlong broad. It had rows of seats all round, rising one above another, where separate places were assigned to the different ranks of people. This building is supposed to have been capable of containing a quarter of a million of people. At each extremity of the Circus rose two columns, surmounted by images of eggs in marble, dedicated to the tutelar deities of the games, Castor and Pollux, who were said to have sprung from the eggs of the swan Leda. This was the boundary, round which the chariots should turn. In the middle of the Circus, for about the whole length of it, there was a brick wall, about 12 feet broad and 4 feet high. In the middle part of this wall was erected, in the time of Augustus Cæsar, an obelisk 132 feet high, which had been brought from Egypt;, and at one extremity of this barrier, a smaller one. The oval figures at the top of the columns before-mentioned, were raised, or perhaps taken down, in order to denote how many rounds the charioteers had completed, one for each round. Above these figures appeared that of a dolphin, in honour of Neptune; that being the swiftest of marine animals. The egg-columns at one end of the Circus, therefore, served as a starting-post, and those at the other end as a turning-post. The high-priests, the body of the senate, the vestals, and at a later period, the emperors, assisted and presided at these fêtes. In the time of the republic, a place of honour was reserved for those citizens who had rendered glorious services to their country. They wore a crown of gold and a triumphal dress. All those who were to play some part at the games assembled in the Capitol, traversed the Forum, and thus came into the Circus. The Roman knights opened the march; then came the wrestlers, divided into three bodies; next the grown-up men, the young people, and the children. Then came flute and harp-players; then dancers, each clad in a purple tunic, fastened with a brazen belt, from which hung a sword; they were also armed with a short lance. They were preceded by a chief, who regulated the steps and the dancing. Next came bodies of armed men; after whom advanced those who were dressed like satyrs, in hairy skins, and mantles formed of flowers. Their heads were ornamented with horns; and they exhibited curious grimaces, to make the spectators laugh. Then came men bearing the gold and silver vessels consecrated to the gods. At last, all this pomp was closed by the images of the gods carried by slaves. The magistrate who presided at the spectacle was drawn in a car. He was clad in a robe dyed with purple: he held a sceptre of ivory surmounted by an eagle. Behind him was a slave, who held above his head a crown of gold, and he advanced in this equipage up to the first barriers. Then all the officers and combatants took their places, and the signal for the commencement of the races was given by the prefect of the games, or in later times by the emperor, who threw a napkin into the arena. The chariots having been arranged by lot, and the signal for starting being given, the gates near the starting-place were opened; whence. flew out the chariots which were to dispute the prize. They were obliged to go seven times round the Circus. The grand art was to turn round the pillars at the farther extremity without touching them, and without losing any advantage over their rivals. The racers were divided into four parties distinguished by their wearing dresses of four different colours, symbolical of the four seasons: red for summer, white for winter, green for spring, blue for autumn. But, afterwards, there were but two distinguishing colours, the blue and green. Each spectator took the part of one of these two divisions, wore its colour, and betted largely upon its success. Rome, Constantinople, and all the great cities of the empire, were thus rent into two factions, who often engaged in bloody combats. The spectators of the games favoured one or the other colour, as humour or caprice inclined them. It was not the swiftness of the horses, or the art of the drivers, which so much attracted them; but it was their dress. In the reign of Justinian no less than 30,000 men are said to have lost their lives at Constantinople, in a tumult raised by contentions among the partisans of the different colours. We are told that the Emperor Domitian added two colours, the gold and the purple. The number of chariots which ran, depended upon the number of colours. The emperors adopted almost always the green colour; and Nero, clad in this livery, disputed for the prize. Caligula wore this colour. He had such an inordinate passion for racing, that he dined ir. the stable with his horses. For his favourite horse he built a stable of marble, and constructed a manger of ivory. He sent ceremoniously to invite him to dinner, and gave him gilded oats. He presented him with a golden cup of wine, after having tasted it himself; and at last he made him a consul! The horses were trained with so much art, that the skill of the charioteer was almost superfluous. Pliny relates that a chariot whose guide had been thrown out, continued its course and gained the prize. The victor being proclaimed by the voice of a herald, was crowned, and received a prize in money of considerable value. Palms were anciently given to the conquerors in the games, after the manner of the Greeks; and those who had received crowns for their bravery in war, first wore them at the games. The palm-tree was chosen for this purpose, because it rises against a weight placed on it. Hence it was put for any token or prize of victory, or for Victory itself. Sometimes, the palm-crowns were adorned with ribbons hanging down from them. There were also represented horse and foot-battles, encampments, and sieges. The contests were oftentimes waged on elephants loaded with towers, which were filled with combatants. The theatre was also metamorphosed into an immense sea, furnished with monsters, whereon two fleets filled with combatants, who were taken from criminals condemned to die, engaged in a real battle. The signal was given by a silver Triton, who came out of the waves, and sounded the charge. Heliogabalus carried his extravagance so far, as to fill the Circus with wine. Two fleets fought upon this novel kind of sea. There was exhibited also in the amphitheatre, the representation of the fable of Orpheus. A forest stocked with a vast number of birds and wild beasts, and drawn along by invisible machinery, advanced to the sound of musical instruments. Unfortunately a plank broke, and the false Orpheus fell into the midst of the beasts, and was devoured by a bear. They would train eagles to carry children in the air, in order thus to represent the taking up of Ganymede by Jupiter. After the chariot-races, four foot-races, one from each party, rushed forward into the Circus. They ran from east to west; and they also went seven times the round of the Circus: sometimes they were stripped of all loose coverings; at other times they ran completely armed. Often the same competitors who had disputed for the prize in a chariot, ran on the ground, and disputed for the prize of foot-racing. They took the names of the The sea-fights were not confined to the Circus. winds, whose rapidity they imitated: Notus, the South-Augustus Cæsar dug a lake near the Tiber for that wind; Boreas, the North-wind, &c. purpose, and Domitian built a naval theatre. Foot-racing, together with the exercises of leaping, boxing, wrestling, and throwing the quoit, went under the general name of QUINQUERTIUM, or the five kinds of contest. The boxers exhibited in their turn a new spectacle. Their arms and hands were surrounded with thongs of bull's skin, to which were fastened balls of lead, to make the blows fall with greater weight. These combats were almost always bloody. The wrestlers were always anointed with a glutinous ointment to prevent firm hold, and the prize belonged to him who threw down his adversary. The actors in the Quinquertium were previously trained in a place of exercise called the GYMNASIUM. Their pursuits constituted "gymnastic exercises," that is, exercises performed with no loose covering on the body, lest the limbs should be in any wise impeded. In the training of the combatants, they were restricted to a particular diet. There was also a mock fight, called Ludus Trojæ, performed by young noblemen. The origin of this was referred back to the Trojans, the original ancestors of the Romans. This was usually celebrated at stated times by the emperors; it having been revived by Julius Cæsar. Another sort of sport celebrated in the Circus, was the Venatio, or hunting. Wild beasts were set to fight with one another, or with men, who were forced to it by way of punishment, as was the case with the primitive Christians. Some, however, fought voluntarily, either from a natural ferocity of disposition, or induced by hire. An incredible number of animals was brought from all quarters, for the entertainment of the people, at an immense expense. Pompey is said to have exhibited, upon one occasion, when he wished to please the people, five hundred lions and eighteen elephants, which were all dispatched in five days. In the time of the Emperor Probus, about 280 A.D.. the soldiers tore up whole trees, and transplanted them into the Circus, which was thus changed into a vast forest. Here they let loose a thousand ostriches, a thousand wild boars, ibexes, and giraffes, and permitted the populace to rush in upon their prey. The deserts of Asia and Africa were thus searched for objects new and monstrous, to gratify the curiosity and the sanguinary lust of the commonalty of Rome. The traces of this pastime still exist among us in the shape of bull-baiting, badger-hunting, cock-fighting, &c.: but we trust that, by the growth of Christian feeling, and a sense of moral rectitude influencing public opinion, all these vestiges of barbarous and ruder days are fast verging to utter extinction. In another article will be noticed the sad and detestable amusement afforded to the Roman people by the combats of the Gladiators. FLOWERS. FAIR flowers! a lovely sisterhood, Wheels many an airy flight; With hummings of delight. When whispering zephyrs play; I linger o'er your fading blooms, Your humbler beauties sprung. (By Highest Wisdom deemed,) The brows of Heaven's Redeemed!-M. M. THE virtue of prosperity is temperance; fortitude that of adversity. WHO that has trod the long echoing aisles of some Gothic minster, and listened to the swell of the organ notes, while the stained light, through which the sunshine of centuries had poured upon fluted pillar and fretted roof, fell on the than any words could tell, that grandeur and beauty are well-worn pavement at his feet, but has felt, more truly eternal truths, are a few faint notes of that voice of God which whispers in his own soul? And who that has witnessed a public festival, a coronation, or a universal rejoi cing, but has felt his heart glad with loyalty towards the mere human object of our joy, and has owned in himself that earthly shows of dignity and honour, though they be but shadows, are mighty ones, and since they actually stir up the burning thoughts they are meant to awaken, are intended to form a part of our human state on earth, and neither a vain nor unpermitted language; but are divinely are types of feelings which will not perish here?-Truth without Prejudice. JOHN W. PARKER, PUBLISHER, WEST STRAND, LONDON. II. INTERIOR OF THE DORMITORY. Fast by, an old, but noble fabric stands, Gentleman's Magazine, 1739. HAVING noticed in a former article the early history of Westminster School, it remains to describe the buildings now devoted to the purposes of this ancient establishment, with some of the regulations laid down for the conduct of the inmates. The College Hall, which serves as a refectory for the King's Scholars, was originally an apartment in the -house of the Abbot, and was devoted to the same purpose as at present. From the archives of the church VOL. XXIV. it appears that Nicholas Litlington, who succeeded Langham in the abbacy, on the elevation of the latter to the see of Ely in 1362, built this hall, the Jerusalem chamber, part of the Abbot's house, now the Deanery; the bailiff's, the cellarer's, the infirmarer's, and the sacrist's houses; the malt-house, afterwards used as a dormitory for the King's Scholars, and the adjoining tower, which was once the apartment of the second master; the wall of the infirmary garden, and a watermill, whose dam has been filled up. The site of the old wall was on the south side of the cloister, the north wall of which is still remaining. The length of the ancient refectory appears to have been that of the cloister. The School-room is a spacious apartment ranging behind the lower end of the eastern cloister, and above some of the most ancient parts of the Abbey. The writer of the lines at the head of this notice, who appears to have been a pupil at Westminster in the time of the mastership of Dr. Freind, goes on to describe the different classes in the school as follows: Ranged into seven, distinct the classes lie, |