It appeared in 1844; and in 1846, in addition to the ordinary estimates, nearly 4,000,000l. sterling were voted, without a dissentient voice, to create a new force of ninety-three steam and other frigates -precisely the very force so urgently recommended in the pamphlet.

This vote was to be spread over the period of seven years, an equal portion of it to be expended in each; but in January, 1847, the minister of marine proposed that the ships should be prepared without the least delay, and the term of seven years altogether disregarded; which was also unanimously approved.

These events sufficiently show that he did not fail to arouse his countrymen; and if we hear nothing on the subject now, it is because Frenchmen know that the success of their onslaught must be in proportion to the degree in which we have failed to take warning. How universal this feeling is, may be judged by the silence of the most opposite parties on the stirring letters we have recently read. This is their sole point of union; and France as one man would rise against the traitor who should publish a word, in the present stage of affairs, that might tend further to open We have often been warned, but in vain; and France confidently believes we shall soon relapse into slumber.

our eyes.

THE NESTS OF FISHES.

ALMOST all the higher classes of animals assiduously perform the duties of parents to their young. They nurse, and feed, and protect them till they are able to provide for themselves. But many of the inferior animals, on the other hand, never know or care for their offspring. Not a few of them, indeed, as the insect tribe, bestow great pains in constructing nests for the eggs of their future young, and even provide and store up the food necessary for them; but here all their solicitude ends; and in many instances the parents are dead before their young come into existence. Aquatic animals exhibit what, on a casual view, would appear great carelessness in this respect. Fish deposit their spawn almost at random, and leave their ova to be hatched by the elements, and their young to provide for themselves. They form no nest, or a very rude one-the sand of the sea-shore, the small pebbles of the river or lake, or leaves of plants, or sea-weeds, receive their minute eggs. These are hurriedly and rudely covered up, if deposited in furrows of the sand, or they adhere to stones or weeds by means of a gluey mucilage by which they are enveloped. When the young fry are developed, they associate together in shoals, and roam about amid the shallow waters untended and

unprotected by the larger fish, nay, sometimes even preyed upon by their own progenitors. This we might be apt to think extreme indifference, and an but a little reflection will show that it is a wise outrage on the great law of paternal endearment; adjustment of nature. In such an unstable element as water, continually agitated by currents, and incessantly changing its place, it would have been impossible for a parent fish to have kept its young family around it, or even, if it so could, to have afforded them any protection. Think, too, of a codfish surrounded by several millions of its youngthe offspring of one single season! Or of an immense shoal of herrings, with each parent taking charge of its two or three millions of young, and distinguishing each among the surrounding myriads! The salmon comes into fresh-water rivers to deposit its spawn high up the stream; but its nature requires that it should return to the ocean again long before its applies to many migratory fishes, which leave the young are able to travel: and the same remark deep waters-their usual haunt-and come for a short space to the shallows to spawn.

Yet fishes, obedient to the great law of nature, show much solicitude about selecting the proper place for their spawn and future young. Every year the herring in countless shoals makes a long north to our shallow bays and firths; and the salmon journey, it is supposed, from the deep seas of the leaves the sea, toils up the current of the river with incredible perseverance and force, overleaping the falls and rapids till it gains the smooth and shallow source where, amid the sand, the spawn is deposited, and where the future young may sport in safety amid the sunny rills, till they gain sufficient strength to swim down the stream. Some fishes, however, really make a kind of nest in the water, and assiduously tend their ova till they are hatched. This is the case with the stickleback, which constructs a nest made of pieces of grass and straw fixed among the pebbles of the stream which they inhabit. M. Coste procured some of these fishes, and putting them into basins filled with water, and the propet materials of their nests, watched their progress. A minute and very curious detail of which he lately submitted to the Academy of Sciences of Paris The sticklebacks having selected a proper spot, sec about constructing their nests. "I saw," says he,

each of the males that was engaged in this work heap up in the place the selected pieces of grass of every kind, which he often brought from a great distance, seizing them with his mouth; and of these he began to form a kind of carpet. But as the materials which form the first part of his edifice might be carried away by the movements or oscillation of the water, he had the precaution to bring some sand, with which he filled his mouth, and deposited it on the nest, in order to keep it in its place. Then, in order to make all the substances thus brought together adhere to each other, he pressed his body against them, sliding slowly as if by a kind of vibratory creeping, and in this way glued them together by meany of the mucus which exudes from his skin. By this operation the first collected materials form a kind of foundation or solid floor, on which the rest of the edifice is to be reared. The execution of this he continues with a feverish perseverance and agitation. In order to satisfy himself that all the parts are sufficiently united, he agitates his pectoral fins with great rapidity, in such a manner as to produce currents directed against the nest, and if he notice that the pieces of grass are moved, he presses them down with his snout, heaps sand

upon them, flattens them, and glues them together! again. When the process has reached this point, he chooses more solid materials-he seizes small pieces of wood or straws in his mouth, and presses them into the thick places, or on the surface of the first construction. If he finds, when attempting to introduce them, that the position does not sufficiently answer the purpose, he draws them out again, seizes them at another part, again inserts them, and pushes them forwards, until he ascertains that he has made the best possible use of them. Occasionally, however, in spite of all his care, there are portions which, owing to their shape, will not conform to the general plan. These he draws out, carries to a distance, and abandons, and proceeds to select others. When he has succeeded in building the floor and side walls, he then undertakes the roof, which is constructed of the same materials, carefully glued and compacted together by the same vibratory of his body. Meanwhile he takes care to pressure secure an opening in the centre of the nest, by repeatedly thrusting in his head and the greater part of his body." The nest being thus finished, the male, which is distinguished by his vivid coloring, darts out and invites a female to deposit her eggs in the place which he has just prepared for their reception. The female enters, and having deposited her ova in the cavity, darts out at the opposite side at which she entered, and thus makes an open passage through both sides of the nest. Several females in succession are thus invited to deposit their spawn; and thus the nest becomes a rich magazine of ova. The male now becomes the sole guardian of this deposit; for not only do the females take no care of it, but they become its formidable enemies-forming part of those numerous coalitions which attempt to plunder it, and satisfy their voracious appetite by devouring the ova. În his defensive exertions no obstacle can divert him, or daunt his courage during the whole month requisite for the development of the ova. In order to strengthen the nest, he now covers it with stones, the size of which is sometimes equal to half his body, and which he moves along with great labor. In this process he always reserves one or more openings, through which he often drives currents of water by the rapid motion of his fins these currents seem to be necessary in clearing away objects from the eggs, for if not thus cleansed, they are found all to perish. It is wonderful to see with what courage he beats away successive numbers of his foes, striking them with his snout, and erecting his long sharp spines. Sometimes, when about to be overpowered with numbers, he resorts to statagem, and darts suddenly out of his nest, as if in pursuit of some prey. This frequently deceives the attacking sticklebacks, and they rush after him, in hopes of sharing the prey; and thus they are decoyed from the nest. As the period of hatching draws to a close, his assiduity increases: he removes the stones to give more easy access to the water, enlarges the openings, increases the frequency of the currents, and moves the eggs nearer the surface, or carries them deeper, according as circumstances require. Finally, when the eggs are hatched, he still continues to watch over the young in his nest, and does not allow them to go at liberty till they have become sufficiently active to provide the means of their own preservation.Chambers' Journal.

From Jerrold's Magazine.

SKETCHES FROM A PAINTER'S STUDIO.

A TALE OF TO-DAY.

A BROAD stream, smooth with deep-grassed fields,
Through rushy turnings winding slow-
A dam where stirless waters sleep,
Till shot on the mossed wheel below-
A dusty mill, whose shadows fall
On the stayed waters, white o'er all.
A vine-climbed cottage, redly-tiled,
Deep-nooked within an orchard's green,
Past which a white road winds away
That hedgerow elms from summer screen-
A busy wheel's near sound that tells
Within the thriving miller dwells.
A cottage parlor neatly gay
With little comforts brightened round,
Where simple ornaments that speak
Of more than country taste abound;
Where bookcase and piano well
Of more than village polish tell.

A bluff, blunt miller, well to do,
Of broad, loud laugh-not hard to please-
A kindly housewife, keen and sage,
And busy as her very bees-

A bright-eyed daughter-mirth and health-
Their pride-their wealth above all wealth.
A tripping, fair, light-hearted girl,
Nor yet the ripened woman quite,
Whose cheerful mirth and thoughtful love
Light up the cottage with delight,
And with a thousand gentle ways
With pleasure brim her parents' days.
A titled slip of lordly blood,

A few weeks' lounger at the hall,
To gain new zests for palled delights
And squandered waste of health recall-
An angler in the mill-dam's water-
A chatter with the miller's daughter.

A meeting 'neath a summer's night-
Soft smiles, low words, impassioned sighs-
The trembling clasp of meeting hands
The hot gaze met with downcast eyes-
Foul perjuries that pollute the air
With burning hopes and doubts heard there.

A thin, pale face, where autumn sees
No more the smiles that lit the spring-
A foot less light upon the stair—
A low voice heard no more to sing-
One now that lost to all things sits,
Now starts to overmirth by fits.

Dear tongues that ask a gasping girl
Of what to utter were to kill-
Looks that she feels upon her fixed-
Eyes that with tears pursue her still-
Care in the old accustomed place
Of mirth upon her father's face.

A dark, small, whitely-curtained room-
A form flung on the unopened bed-
Quick sobs that quiver through the gloom-
Tears rained from hot eyes, swoln and red-
And words that through their wild despair
Still strive to shape themselves to prayer.

A winter midnight's starry gloom-
A pausing tread so light that steals

Across the landing-down the stairs-
That scarce a creak a step reveals-
A stifled sob-a bolt undrawn-outer "
A form-low words-a daughter gone.

A fresh-turfed, narrow, hoop-bound grave
Heaping a country churchyard's green,
On whose white headstone, newly carved,
The mill's old master's name is seen-
The wayside mill's, that bears no more
The well-known name so long it bore.
A stooping woman, scarcely old,
Yet with the feeble walk of age,
The dull, faint sense of whose blank mind,
No thing around her can engage;
Yet who, when into speech beguiled,
Will mutter of some absent child.

A costly-furnished, west-end room,
Whose mirrors-pictures-all things show
A stintless and abounding wealth-
An easeful luxury few can know-
A flaunting thing its glare within,
A thing of shame, remorse, and sin.
A noise of quarrel-keen reproach,
Fronted with taunt-loud oath and curse
Heaped out with such vile store of scorn
As hate in vain might seek for worse-
Meek pleadings stricken to a close
With, shame to manhood, brutal blows.
dawn
A thing that once was woman-white,
Thin, haggard, hollow-eyed and wante
A horror that the shuddering eye
Starts back aghast from resting on;
Whose only joy now left is drink,
Whose fire burns out the power to think.

against the Danish government and in support of the "German principle," the authorities of Denmark took measures to silence him. It appears that every lawyer must be commissioned by the government, and no commissioned officer can sit as da representative in the diet without the permission of the government. Under this law M. Bessler was required either to give up his commissioned business as a lawyer or relinquish his seat in the diet. M. Bessler chose the alternative of sacrificing his business; an intention which he made public in a sort of manifesto. The appearance of this document caused the greatest excitement; and forthwith committees were formed in the different towns in the two duchies to raise subscriptions for the martyr. Gradually the feeling spread to Hanover, Prussia, Bavaria, Baden, and Wurtemburg; and the result is likely to be, that instead of his former income of about two hundred a year, M. Bessler will receive a clear fortune of several hundred thousand thalers.

A MANUFACTURER of silks, having received from his dyer a large quantity of goods in a spotty condition, threatened him with an action, unless he was compensated for the loss he was likely to sustain, owing, as it appeared, to the dyer's carelessness. This being resisted, chemists were employed to detect the causes of the accident; but they were at damaged silk had been committed for analysis, le fault, until, at length, one gentleman to whom the thought of submitting it to microscopic examination by an eminent naturalist; who at once discovered that the spots were owing to a peculiar fungus, having all the characters of that variety which was detected in the potato-disease. The result was, the discovery that all the damage had been effected by the manufacturer and not the dyer; he having employed in the process of manufacture a starch size which had been prepared from diseased potatoes.Art-Union Journal.

Adventures in Mexico and the Rocky Mountains. By G. F. RUXTON.-We have glanced over this new book on Mexico and the Indian country, and find it brim-full of humor, spirit and wild incident. It exhibits the Mexicans in the most deplorable and imbecile condition; especially does the writer indulge his sarcasm at the expense of ex-president Santa Anna, and his miserable recruits. The book abounds with spirited sketches of the wild sports of the prairies, accounts of the trappers and the Santa Fe traders, &c.-Jour. of Commerce.

Pictorial History of England, Nos. 38 and 39. Nearly completed. We recommend this book to public and private libraries everywhere.

Lamartine's History of the Girondists, vol. 2. Life of the Chevalier Bayard, by W. G. SIMMS.

Chambers' Miscellany is regularly issued by Messrs. Gould, Kendall & Lincoln.

Dombey & Son, by Messrs. Bradbury & Guild.

367

The elaborate and stately Essays of the Edinburgh, Quarterly, and other Reviews, and Blackwood's noble criticisms on Poetry, his kee: political Commentaries, highly wrought Tales, and vivid descriptions of rural and mountain Scenery; and the contributions to Literature, History, and Common Life, by the sagacious Spectator, the sparkling Examiner, the judicious Athenæum, the busy and industrious Literary Gazette, the sensible and comprehensive Britannia, the sober and respectable Christian Observer; these are intermixed with the Military and Naval reminiscences of the United Service, and with the best articles of the Dublin University, New Monthly, Fraser's, Tait's, Ainsworth's, Hood's, and Sporting Magazines, and of Chambers' admirable Journal. We do not consider it beneath our dignity to borrow wit and wisdom from Punch; and, when we think it good enough, make use of the thunder of The Times. We shall increase our variety by importations from the continent of Europe, and from the new growth of the British colonies.

The steamship has brought Europe, Asia, and Africa, into our neighborhood; and will greatly multiply our connections, as Merchants, Travellers, and Politicians, with all parts of the world; so that much more than ever it

Geographical Discoveries, the progress of Colonization, (which is extending over the whole world,) and Voyages and Travels, will be favorite matter for our selections; and, in general, we shall systematically and very ully acquaint our readers with the great department of Foreign affairs, without entirely neglecting our own.

While we aspire to make the Living Age desirable to all who wish to keep themselves informed of the rapid progress of the movement-to Statesmen, Divines, Lawyers, and Physicians-to men of business and men of leisure-it is still a stronger object to make it attractive and useful to their Wives and Children. We believe that we can thus do some good in our day and generation; and hope to make the work indispensable in every well-informed family. We say indispensable, because in this day of cheap literature it is not possible to guard against the influx of what is bad in taste and vicious in morals, in any other way than by furnishing a sufficient supply of a healthy character. The mental and moral aj petite must be gratified.

We hope that, by "winnowing the wheat from the chaff" by providing abundantly for the imagination, a d by a large collection of Biography, Voyages and Travels, History, and more solid matter, we may produce a work which shall be popular, while at the same time it will aspire to raise the standard of public taste.

Clubs, paying a year in advance, will be supplied follows:

as

Complete sets, in fifteen volumes, to the end of 1847, handsomely bound, and packed in neat boxes, are for sale at thirty dollars.

Any volume may be had separately at two dollars, bound, or a dollar and a half in numbers.

Any number may be had for 12 cents; and it may be worth while for subscribers or purchasers to complete any broken volumes they may have, and thus greatly enhance their value.

Binding. We bind the work in a uniform, strong, and good style; and where customers bring their numbers in good order, can generally give them bound volumes in exchange without any delay. The price of the binding is 50 cents a volume. As they are always bound to one pattern, there will be no difficulty in matching the future volumes.

ences.

Postage. When sent with the cover on, the Living Age consists of three sheets, and is rated as a pamphlet, at 4 cents. But when sent without the cover, it comes within the definition of a newspaper given in the law, and cannot legally be charged with more than newspaper postage, (14 cts.) We add the definition alluded to:

A newspaper is "any printed publication, issued in numbers, consisting of not more than two sheets, and published at short, stated intervals of not more than oue month, conveying intelligence of passing events."

Monthly parts.-For such as prefer it in that form, the Living Age is put up in monthly parts, containing four or five weekly numbers. In this shape it shows to great advantage in comparison with other works, containing in each part double the matter of any of the quarterlies. But we recommend the weekly numbers, as fresher and fuller of life. Postage on the monthly parts is about 14 cents. The volumes are published quarterly, each volume containing as much matter as a quarterly review gives in eighteen months.

WASHINGTON, 27 DEC., 1845.

J. Q. ADAMS.