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OF A PRECISE TAILOR.

[THE first translator of Ariosto into English was SIR JOHN HARINGTON, a courtier of the reign of Elizabeth, and also godson of the queen. He was the son of John Harington, the poet already noticed. Sir John wrote a collection of epigrams, and a "Brief View of the Church," in which he reprobates the marriage of bishops. He is supposed to have been born about the year 1561; died 1612. The translation from Ariosto is poor and prosaic, but some of his epigrams are pointed.]

A tailor, thought a man of upright dealing-
True, but for lying-honest, but for stealing,
Did fall one day extremely sick by chance,
And on the sudden was in wondrous trance;
The fiends of hell mustering in fearful manner,
Of sundry coloured silks displayed a banner
Which he had stolen, and wished, as they did tell,
That he might find it all one day in hell.
The man, affrighted with this apparition,
Upon recovery grew a great precisian :
He bought a Bible of the best translation,
And in his life he shewed great reformation;
He walked mannerly, he talked meekly,
He heard three lectures and two sermons weekly;
He vowed to shun all company unruly,
And in his speech he used no oath but 'truly ;'
And zealously to keep the Sabbath's rest,
His meat for that day on the eve was drest;
And lest the custom which he had to steal
Might cause him sometimes to forget his zeal,
He gives his journeyman a special charge,
That if the stuff, allowance being large,
He found his fingers were to filch inclined,
Bid him to have the banner in his mind.
This done-I scant can tell the rest for laughter-
A captain of a ship came three days after,
And brought three yards of velvet and three-quarters,
To make Venetians down below the garters.
He, that precisely knew what was enough,
Soon slipt aside three-quarters of the stuff;
His man, espying it, said in derision:
'Master, remember how you saw the vision!
'Peace, knave!' quoth he; 'I did not see one rag
Of such a coloured silk in all the flag.'

AGAINST WRITERS THAT CARP AT OTHER MEN'S BOOKS.

The readers and the hearers like my books,
But yet some writers cannot them digest;
But what care I? for when I make a feast,
I would my guests should praise it, not the cooks.

OF TREASON.

Treason doth never prosper: what's the reason? For if it prosper, none dare call it treason.

OF FORTUNE.

Fortune, men say, doth give too much to many, But yet she never gave enough to any.

ARIOSTO.

HUMBOLDT'S EXPLORATION OF

TENERIFFE.

[FRIEDRICH HEINRICH ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT, one of the greatest men of science of the nineteenth century, born in Berlin, 1769, and died there at the age of ninety in 1859. Educated at the universities of Frankfort, Berlin and Göttingen, he made the study of natural history his specialty. After travelling widely in Europe, collecting objects of natural history, he was appointed to office in the department of mining. Here he conceived the plan of a great scientific expedition, which, after many delays, was fulfilled, in company with the botanist Bonpland. Leaving the coast of Spain in 1799, Humboldt explored Teneriffe, Venezuela, the river Orinoco, Cuba, Bogota, the Cordilleras, Ecuador, Chimborazo, Mexico and Peru. This protracted exploration of five years, amidst the most interesting and stupendous scenery of the New World, bore fruit in an extremely rich collection of plants, minerals, and preserved specimens of animal life. Humboldt returned to Paris by way of Philadelphia and Washington in 1804, visiting President Jefferson at the American capital, and conveying to Europe a larger store of scientific observations and collections of natural science than all travellers who preceded him. He took up his residence in Paris, where he published his great work "Voyage aux Régions Equinoctiales du Nouveau Monde" (1809-25), followed by his "Essai Politique sur l'isle de Cuba" (1826). The former work, with its invaluable contributions to the geography, botany, geology and ethnology of Middle and Southern America, has been translated into English by Helen M. Williams, in 14 vols., 4 of which are devoted to the 'Political Essay on New Spain' (Mexico). Only half of the last named work, and mere fragments of the former, have been reprinted in the United States.

In 1829, Humboldt undertook an expedition to northern Asia and the frontiers of China, under patronage of the Russian government, making a journey of 10,000 miles in nine months. The fruits of this journey, most valuable in a magnetic and meteorological direction, were published in Humboldt's "Asie Centrale," 3 vols., Paris, 1843. Humboldt was several times employed by the government of his country, Prussia, in foreign missions, in France, England and Denmark, and resided in Berlin from 1848 to the time of his death. His remarka bly synthetic mind connected his observations with the whole range of previously acquired knowledge. Constantly recording elevations and temperatures as he went along, and collecting the herbarium of every locality, he may be said to have created the new science of the geography of plants. His contributions to physical geography and climatology too, are of enormous value.

The botanical and zoological works of Humboldt, pub-expanse of sea, but we see also the forests lished in costly illustrated folios, were so numerous that of Teneriffe, and the inhabited parts of the he used to say he could not afford to own a set of his coasts, in a proximity fitted to produce the own works. His valuable "Examen critique de la Geog- most beautiful contrasts of form and colour. raphie du nouveau Continent," 5 vols., Paris, 1835, has We might say, that the volcano crushes with never been translated into English. Humboldt's last its mass the little isle which serves as its work, the "Cosmos," 5 vols., 1845-62, is an attempt to basis, and shoots up from the bosom of the waters to a height three times loftier than the region where the clouds float in summer. If its crater, half extinguished for ages past, shot forth flakes of fire like that of Stromboli in the Bolian islands, the Peak of Teneriffe, resembling a lighthouse, would furnish a direction to the mariner in a circuit of more than 260 leagues.

describe the physical universe as a whole, and has given an unexampled impulse to the pursuit of natural

science.]

An expedition to the summit of the volcano of Teneriffe is interesting, not solely on account of the great number of phenomena which are the objects of scientific research; it has still greater attractions from the picturesque beauties, which it lays open to those who are feelingly alive to the majesty of nature. It is a difficult task to describe those sensations, which act with so much the more force as they have something undefined, produced by the immensity of the space as well as by the greatness, the novelty, and the multitude of the objects, amidst which we find ourselves transported. When a traveller attempts to furnish descriptions of the loftiest summits of the globe, the cataracts of the great rivers, the tortuous vallies of the Andes, he is exposed to the danger of fatiguing his readers, by the monotonous expression of his admiration. It appears to me more conform able to the plan, which I have proposed to myself in this narrative, to indicate the peculiar character that distinguishes each zone; we exhibit with more clearness the physiognomy of the landscape, in proportion as we endeavour to sketch its individual features, to compare them with each other, and discover by this kind of analysis the sources of those enjoyments which are offered to us by the great picture of nature. Travellers have learnt by experience, that views from the summits of very lofty mountains are neither so beautiful, picturesque, no varied, as those from heights which do not exceed that of Vesuvius, Rigi and Puyde-Dôme. Colossal mountains, such Chimborazo, Antisana or Mount Rose, compose so large a mass, that the plains covered with rich vegetation are seen only in the immensity of distance, where a blue and vapoury tint is uniformly spread over the landscape. The Peak of Teneriffe, from its slender form and local position, unites the advantages of less lofty summits, to those which arise from very great heights. We not only discover from its top a vast

as

When seated on the external edge of the crater, we turned our eyes towards the north-west, where the coasts are decked with villages and hamlets. At our feet masses of vapour, constantly driven by the winds, afforded us the most variable spectacle. A uniform stratum of clouds, the same as we have just described, and which separated us from the lower regions of the island, had been pierced in several places by the effect of the small currents of air, which the earth, heated by the sun, began to send towards us. The port of Orotava, its vessels at anchor, the gardens and the vineyards which encircle the town, exhibited themselves through an opening which seemed to enlarge every instant. From the summit of these solitary regions our eyes hovered over an inhabited world; we enjoyed the striking contrast between the bare sides of the Peak, its steep declivities covered with scoriæ, its elevated plains destitute of vegetation, and the smiling aspect of the cultured country beneath; we beheld the plants divided by zones, as the temperature of the atmosphere diminished with the height of the site. Below the Piton, lichens begin to cover the scorious lava with lustered surface; a violet, akin to the viola decumbens, rises on the slope of the volcano at 1740 toises of height; it takes the lead not only of the other herbaceous plants, but even of the graminea, which, in the Alps and on the ridge of the Cordilleras, form close neighbourhood with the plants of the family of cryptogamia. Tufts of retama, loaded with flowers, make gay the vallies hollowed out by the torrents, and which are encumbered by the effects of the lateral eruptions; below the spartium, or retama, lies the region of ferns, bordered by the

* 11,310 English feet.

tract of the arborescent heaths. Forests of the beauty of the landscape under the torrid laurel, rhamnus, and arbutus, divide the zone; it is this which brightens the splenericas from the rising grounds planted with dor of the vegetable coloring and contrivines and fruit trees. A rich carpet of ver- butes to the magical effect of their hardure extends from the plains of spartium, monies and their contrasts. If a mass of and the zone of the alpine plants even to light, which circulates about objects, fathe group of the date trees and the musa, tigues the external senses during a part of at the feet of which the ocean appears to the day, the inhabitant of the southern roll. I here pass slightly over the different climates has his compensation in moral enfeatures of this botanical chart, as I shall joyments. A lucid clearness in the concepenter hereafter into some farther details re- tions, a serenity of mind, correspond with specting the geography of the plants of the the transparency of the surrounding atmosIsle of Teneriffe. phere. We feel these impressions without overstepping the limits of Europe. I appeal to travellers who have visited countries rendered famous by prodigies of the imagination and the arts, the favoured climates of Greece and Italy.

possible to perceive the coast of Africa from the top of this colossal pyramid; but the nearest parts of this coast are still farther from Teneriffe than 2° 49′, or 56 leagues.

The seeming proximity, in which, from the summit of the Peak, we behold the hamlets, the vineyards, the gardens on the coast, is increased by the prodigious transparency of the atmosphere. Notwithstanding the great distance, we distin- We prolonged in vain our stay on the guished not only the houses, the sails of the summit of the Peak, to wait the moment vessels, and the trunks of trees, our eyes when we might enjoy the view of the whole dwelt on the rich vegetation of the plains, of the Archipelago of the Fortunate Islands. enamelled with the most vivid colouring. We discovered Palma, Gomera, and the These phenomena are owing not only to the Great Canary, at our feet. The mountains height of the site, but to the peculiar modi- of Lanzerota, free from vapours at sunrise, fications of the air in warm climates. Un- were soon enveloped in thick clouds. On a der every zone, an object placed on a level supposition only of an ordinary refraction, with the sea, and viewed in a horizontal the eye takes in, in calm weather, from the direction, appears less luminous, than when summit of the volcano, a surface of the seen from the top of a mountain, when va- globe of 5700 square leagues, equal to a pours arrive across strata of air of decreas-fourth of the surface of Spain. The quesing density. Differences equally striking tion has often been agitated, if it were are produced by the influence of climates; the surface of a lake or large river is less resplendent when we see it at an equal distance, from the top of the higher Alps of Switzerland than when we view it from the summit of the Cordilleras of Peru and Mexico. In proportion as the air is pure and serene, the solution of the vapours becomes more perfect, and the light loses less in its passage. When from the coast of the South Sea we reach the elevated plains of Quito, or that of Antisana, we are struck for some days at the nearness at which we think we see objects which are seven or eight leagues distant. The Peak of Teyde has not the advantage of being situated in the equinoctial region; but the dryness of the columns of air which rise perpetually above the neighbouring plains of Africa, and which the eastern winds bring with rapidity, gives the atmosphere of the Canary Islands a transparency, which surpasses not only that of the air of Naples and Sicily, but perhaps also the purity of the sky of Quito and Peru. This transparency may be regarded as one of the chief causes of

F. X. ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT.

CHAMPS ELYSÉES, PARIS.

FROM CRUMBS SWEPT UP.

[T. DE WITT TALMAGE was born at Boundbrook, N. J., January 7th, 1832. He graduated at the New York University, and also at the New Brunswick Theological Seminary. His first charge was at Belleville, N. J., remained there three years, meeting with remarkable

from which place he was called to Syracuse, N. Y. He

success. At the end of that time he had attracted the

attention of the congregation in Philadelphia formerly presided over by the Rev. Dr. Berg, and one of the

strongest in that city, the Second Reformed Church. He

accepted the flattering call made him, and here, in a wider field for the exercise of his peculiar talents, for seven years preached to a thronged church.

From Philadelphia, after many and repeated calls, ho

removed to Brooklyn, L. I., and after building a great | a sculptured wonder: a king, an apostle, church he became famous as the plain-spoken preacher an archangel, or a Christ. The three cupo

of The Tabernacle.

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The scarlet rose of battle is in full bloom. The white water-lily of fear trembles on the river of tears. The cannon hath retched fire and its lips have foamed blood. The pale horse of death stands drinking out of the Rhine, its four hoofs on the breast-bone of men who sleep their last sleep. The red clusters of human hearts are crushed in the wine-press just as the vineyards of Moselle and Hockheimer are ripening. Chassepot and mitrailleuse have answered the needlegun; and there is all along the lines the silence of those who will never speak again. But Paris has for an interval, at least, recovered from her recent depression. Yesterday I stood at the foot of the Egyptian red-granite obelisk, dug out three thousand four hundred years ago, and from the top of which, at an elevation of seventy-two feet, the ages of the past look down upon the splendors of the present. On either side the obelisk is a fountain with six jets, each tossing into the bronze basin above; a seventh fountain, at still greater elevation, overflowing and coming down to meet them. Ribbons of rainbow flung on the air: golden rays of sunlight interwoven with silver skeins of water, while the wind drives the loom. Tritons, nereids, genii, dolphins, and winged children disporting themselves, and floods clapping their hands.

From the foot of the obelisk, looking off to the south, is the Palace of the Legislature-its last touch of repairs having cost four million dollars-its gilded gates, and Corinthian columns, and statues of Justice, and Commerce, and Art, and Navigationa building grand with Vernet's fresco, and Cortot's sculpture, and Delacroix's allegories of art, and the memory of Lamartine's eloquence; within it the hard face of stone soft with gobelin tapestry, and arabesque, and the walls curtained with velvet of crimson and gleaming gold.

From the foot of the obelisk, glancing to the north, the church of the Madeleine comes into sight, its glories lifted up on the shoulders of fifty-two Corinthian columns, swinging against the dazed vision, its huge brazen doors, its walls breaking into innumerable fragments of beauty, each piece

las against the sky, great doxologies in stone. The whole building white, beautiful, stupendous-the frozen prayer of a

nation.

From the foot of the obelisk, looking east through a long aisle of elms, chestnuts, and palms, is the palace of the Tuileries, confronting you with one thousand feet of facade, and tossed up at either side into imposing pavilions, and sweeping back into the most brilliant picture-galleries of all the world, where the French masters look upon the Flemish, and the black marble of the Pyrenees frowns upon the drifted snow of Italian statuary: a palace poising its pinnacles in the sun, and spreading out balustrades of braided granite. Its inside walls adorned with blaze of red velvet cooling down into damask overshot with green silk. Palace of wild and terrific memories, orgies of drunken kings, and display of coronation festivity. Frightful Catherine de Medicis looked out of those windows. There, Maria Antoinette gazed up toward heaven through the dark lattice of her own broken heart. Into those doors rushed the Revolutionary mobs. On that roof the Angel of Death alighted and flapped its black wings on its way to smite in a day one hundred thousand souls. Majestic, terrible, beautiful, horrible, sublime palace of the Tuileries. The brightness of a hundred fête days sparkles in its fountains! The gore of ten thousand butcheries reddens the upholstery!

Standing at the foot of the obelisk, we have looked toward the north, and the south, and the east. There is but one way more to look. Stretching away to the west, beyond the sculptured horses that seem all a-quiver with life from nostril to fetlock, and rearing till you fear the groom will no longer be able to keep them from dashing off the pedestal, is the Champs Elysées, the great artery through which rolls the life of Parisian hilarity. It is, perhaps, the widest street in the world. You see two long lines of carriages, one flowing this way, the other that, filled with the merriment of the gayest city under the sun. There they go! viscounts and porters, cab-drivers of glazed hat taking passengers at two francs an hour, and coachman with rosetted hat, and lavender breeches, his coat-tails flung over the back of the high seat-a very constellation of brass buttons. Tramp, and rumble, and clatter! Two wheels, four wheels, one sor

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