315

When these agreeable figures first appeared, the price obtained for them was four shillings. As the sale slackened they were sold for three shillings; now, in March, 1826, the pair may be bought for two shillings, or eighteen pence. The consequence of this cheapness is, that there is scarcely a house without

them.

the human voice can scarcely trust itself to relate; which art never can represent, and the pen can only feebly describe. Such a scene occurred at Lyons, in the year 1794.

The place of confinement to which those were hurried, who had been condemned to suffer by the revolutionary tribunal, was called "the Cave of Death." A boy not fifteen years of age was sent thither. He had been one of the foremost in a sortie made during the siege, and for this was doomed to perish. His little brother, scarcely six years old, who had been accustomed to visit him at his former prison, no longer finding him there, came and called at the iron grate of the vault. His brother heard him, and came to the grate: the poor infant passed his little hands between There are things in nature which the vast bars to embrace him, while the

There can be no doubt that society is improving in every direction. As I hinted before, we have a great deal to learn, and something to unlearn. It is in many respects untrue, that " art improves nature;" while in many important respects it is certain, that "nature improves art."

The Brothers.

the cowslips and the meadows: it is this which shines like an earth-star from the grass by the brook side, lighting the hand to pluck it. We do indeed give the name of primrose to the lilac flower, but we do this in courtesy: we feel that it is not the primrose of our youth; not the primrose with which we have played at bo-peep in the woods; not the irresistible primrose which has so often lured our young feet into the wet grass, and procured us coughs and chidings. There is a sentiment in flowers: there are flowers we cannot look upon, or even hear named,

without recurring to something that has an interest in our hearts; such are the primrose, the cowslip, the May-flower, the daisy, &c. &c. The poets have not neglected to pay due honours to this sweet spring-flower, which unites in itself such delicacy of form, colour, and fragrance; they give it a forlorn and pensive character. The poems of Clare are as thickly strewn with primroses as the woods themselves; the two following passages are from "The Village Minstrel."

"O, who can speak his joys when spring's young morn,
From wood and pasture opened on his view,
When tender green buds blush upon the thorn,
And the first primrose dips its leaves in dew.

"And while he pluck'd the primrose in its pride,

He ponder'd o'er its bloom 'twixt joy and pain;
And a rude sonnet in its praise he tried,

Where nature's simple way the aid of art supplied."

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature ... 39 54.

March 8.

At this season there is a sweetness in

the fresh and open air, which never "comes to town." Residents in cities, therefore, must seek it at some distance from their abodes; and those who cannot, may derive some pleasure from a sonnet, by the rural bard quoted just now.

Approach of Spring.

Sweet are the omens of approaching Spring
When gay the elder sprouts her winged leaves;
When tootling robins carol-welcomes sing,

And sparrows chelp glad tidings from the eaves.
What lovely prospects wait each wakening hour,
When each new day some novelty displays,
How sweet the sun-beam melts the crocus flower,
Whose borrow'd pride shines dizen'd in his rays:
Sweet, new-laid hedges flush their tender greens:
Sweet peep the arum-leaves their shelter screens :
Ah! sweet is all that I'm denied to share :
Want's painful hindrance sticks me to her stall;-
But still Hope's smiles unpoint the thorns of Care
Since Heaven's eternal spring is free from all !

Clare.

NATURALISTS' CALENDAR.

Mean Temperature... 40. 05.

can be supplied, at a vast expense, and
after a long lapse of time. On explaining
my wish and purpose, Mr. Cross readily
assented to furnish me with the informa-
tion I desired, and communicated the fol-
lowing particulars. I committed them to
paper during my interviews, and after
digesting them into order, submitted the
whole to his revision. Except as to mere
language and occasional illustrations, the
narrative is, in fact, the narrative of Mr.
Cross. It differs in many essential re-
spects from other accounts, but it only so
differs, because every statement is accu
rately related from Mr. Cross's lips. Cir-
cumstances which occurred during his
temporary absence at the critical moment,
were supplied to me in his presence
by Mr. Tyler, the gentleman who
arranged and cooperated with Mr. Her-
ring, during the exigency that rendered
the destruction of the elephant imperative.
The first owner of the lordly animal,
now no more, was Mr. Harris, pro-
He
prietor of Covent-garden theatre.
purchased it in July, 1810, for nine hun-
dred guineas on its arrival in England,
aboard the Astel, Captain Hay, and the
elephant "came out as a public per-
former the same year, in the procession
of a grand pantomime, called "Harle-
quin Padmanaba." Mrs. Henry John-
stone was his graceful rider, and he was
"played up to" by the celebrated colum-
bine, Mrs. Parker, whose husband had a
joint interest with Mr. Harris in the new
performer. During his "engagement" at
this theatre, Mr. Polito "signed articles"
with Messrs. Harris and Parker for his
further "appearance in public" at the
Royal Menagerie, Exeter Change. On
the death of Mr. Polito, in 1814, Mr.
Cross, who for twenty years had been
superintendent of the concern, became
its purchaser, and the elephant, thus
transferred, remained with Mr. Cross till
From
the termination of his life.
his "last farewell " to the public at
Covent-garden theatre, he was stationary
at the menagerie, from whence he was
never removed, and, consequently, he was
never exhibited at any other place.

"

On the elephant's first arrival from India he had two keepers; these accompanied him to Exeter Change, and to their controul he implicitly submitted, until the death of one of them, within the first year after Mr. Cross's proprietorship, when the l's increasing bulk and strength d it necessary to enlarge his den,

or rather to construct a new one. The
bars of the old one were not thicker than
a man's arm. With Mr. Harrison, the
carpenter, who built his new den, and
with whom he had formed a previous in-
timacy, he was remarkably docile, and
accommodated himself to his wishes in
He was occasionally
every respect.
troublesome to his builder from love of
play, but the prick of a gimblet was an
intimation he obeyed, till a desire for
fresh frolic prompted him to further inter-
ference, and then a renewal of the hint,
or some trifling eatable from the carpen-
ter's pocket, abated the interruption. In
this way they went on together till the
work was completed, and while the ele◄
phant retained his senses, he was happy
in every opportunity that afforded him the
society of his friend Harrison, The den
thus erected will be particularized pre
sently: it was that wherein he remained
till his death.

About six years ago this elephant indicated an excitement which is natural to the species, and which prevails every year for a short season. At the period now spoken of, his keeper having gone into his den to exhibit him, the animal refused obedience; on striking him with a slight cane, as usual, the elephant violently threw him down: another keeper seeing the danger, tossed a pitchfork to his com rade, which the animal threw aside like a straw. A person then ran to alarm Mr. Cross, who hurried down stairs, and catching up a shovel, struck the animal violently on the head, and suddenly seizing the prostrated man, dragged him from the den, and saved his life.

This was the first appearance of those annual paroxysms, wherein the elephant, whether wild or confined, becomes infuriated. At such a period it is customary in India to liberate the elephants and let them run to the forests, whence, on the conclusion of the fit, they usually return to their wonted subjection. Such an experiment being impossible with Mr. Cross, he resorted to pharmacy, and, in the course of fifty-two hours, succeeded in deceiving his patient into the taking of twenty-four pounds of salts, twenty-four pounds of treacle, six ounces of calomel, an ounce and a half of tartar emetic, and six drams of powder of gam boge. To this he added a bottle of croton oil, the most potent cathartic perhaps in existence; of this, a full dram was administered, which alone is suffi