the fire, and all running off at the conclusion to escape from the black short-tailed sow." At Ripon, Yorkshire, on this even, "the good women make a cake for every one of the family." A similar custom is practised in Warwickshire. In Ireland, the peasants assemble with sticks and clubs, and go from house to house "collecting money, cheese, &c., repeating verses in honour of the solemnity, demanding preparations for the festival of St. Columb Kill, desiring them to lay aside the fatted calf, and to bring forth the black sheep. The women are employed in making the griddle cake and candles; these last are sent from house to house in the vicinity, and are lighted up on the next day, before which they pray, or are supposed to pray for the departed soul of the donor." Martin, in his description of the Western Islands, written at the end of the seventeenth century, speaking of the Isle of Lewis, says: "The inhabitants of this island had an ancient custom to sacrifice to a sea-god, called Shony, at Hallow-tide, in the manner following: the inhabitants round the island came to the church of St. Mulvay, having each man his provision along with him every family furnished a peck of malt, and this was brewed into ale: one of their number was picked out to wade into the sea up to the middle, and carrying a cup of ale in his hand, standing still in that posture, cried out with a loud voice, saying, 'Shony, I give you this cup of ale, hoping that you'll be so kind as to send us plenty of sea-ware for enriching our ground the ensuing year:' and so threw the cup of ale into the sea. This was performed in the night time. At his return to land they all went to church, where there was a candle burning upon the altar; and then, standing silent for a little time, one of them gave a signal, at which the candle was put out, and immediately all of them went to the fields, and spent the remainder of the night in dancing and singing." Brand, in his account of Orkney, says of the inhabitants, "When the beasts, as oxen, sheep, horses, &c. are sick, they sprinkle them with a water made up by them, which they call forespoken water, wherewith likewise they sprinkle their boats when they succeed and prosper not in their fishing. And especially on Hallow Even they used to sain [bless] or sign their boats, and put a cross of tar upon them, which my informer hath often seen." ROADSIDE SKETCHES OF GERMANY AND THE GERMANS. No. IV. THE only town of any consequence on the road is Darmstadt, the capital of Hesse Darmstadt, one of those pleasing little German principalities, which a foxhunter would ride across in a day, without thinking he had enjoyed a particularly long run. These pasteboard kingdoms are much more numerous in the north, than in the south of Germany, and were far more startling from their numbers, the smallness of their size, and the magnitude of their pretensions, before the year 1815, when Metternich, who is a terrible swallower-up of independencies, caused the greater number of them to be mashed up into larger states, on the obverse principle to that on which moons are cut up into stars. I cannot help thinking, however, that it was a pity not to let one or two of the minutest of these monarchies remain-those, for instance, regarding which the stories are told of the Grand army, consisting of four men, all of whom held the rank at least of colonels, and who acted either as footmen or officers, as occasion required. There is a tradition, too, of a representation made to one of the sovereigns by his steward, that it was necessary to burn tallow candles in the palace, as the royal trades-people would not give credit any longer for wax. One or two of these funny little states really should have been left, just to give one an idea of the way in which grown-up people play at being kings and queens. One privilege, however, the dethroned princes retained, by special treaty-that of being still considered of royal blood-or that they might marry the queen of any country, who should be found green enough to accept one of them as a husband. It was on the strength of this privilege, I understand, that a great many of these gentlemen, who had scarcely enough to pay their passage-money, came over to England, when our gracious mistress was understood to be on the look-out for a consort. One can quite imagine the enormous size of the flea which they would carry back in their ears, when they returned home to their small beer and sourkrout, on her decision being made public. Hesse Darmstadt, however, is one of the best of the minute principalities still remaining, and its capital would be a respectable enough town, were it not that it is a great deal too large for its importance, and the number of its inhabitants; so that it always reminds one of the story of the snail, which was so proud of its magnificent abode in a lobster-shell, but was unfortunately frozen to death, in consequence of the enormous size of its residence. The great lion here, is the preserve of wild boars for the duke's hunting-but the wild boars are unfortunately all so tame as to come to be fed, and, on particular occasions, when the duke wishes to be extremely bold, and to slay the boar himself, the tusks are carefully sawed off beforehand. At these times the royalty of the principal huntsman must of course give an uncommon interest to the scene, though, but for the ludicrousness of it, I should think the whole of the hunting must be as tame, and as great a bore, as any one of the animals chased. The route from Darmstadt lies along the Bergstrasse, or mountain road, a district of country deservedly celebrated throughout Germany for picturesque beauty. I do not mean to say that it deserves all the commendations which you will hear lavished upon it by the Germans themselves; for, in this instance, as in many others, their ideas of excellence are considerably exaggerated; and this need not be any great wonder to us, since, while our own little island overflows with every variety of natural beauty, the mid basin of Europe, as I suppose the geologists would call it, being a pretty undeviating plain, necessarily presents but few spots boasting the attractions of hill and dale, into which our poor little Britain has at some time or other been swelled and scratched; and without hill and date, it is, I apprehend, well nigh impossible to have any great amount of picturesque beauty. In regard to the Bergits charms or not, have good reason for their commenstrasse, however, the Germans, whether they overpraise dations. I am not sure that I do not prefer it to the Rhine itself, and it is in fact a portion of the Rhineland that you pass through, only, as the valley here widens out to an immense extent, and the road runs along the foot of the hills, instead of by the side of the river, it is but now and then that one catches a glimpse of the course of the stream. But the mountains here are, or seem to be, much more lofty than those lower down the river-they rise at once from the highway, now in sharp precipitous acclivities, and now in gently swelling downs. The lower heights are covered with vineyards, or with the richest, and most beautiful verdure, while the loftier summits are crowned by dark groves of fir, which run down the more sterile portions of the hills, their sombre colour contrasting exquisitely with the bright green around. Then, when you turn to the right, peering through the trees which border the roadside, before you lies stretched the broad fertile valley, rich in corn and grain of every kind and every hue; whilst far in the distance rise the blue hills of France. It is a glorious scene, especially if you view it on one of those bright sunny days, when all nature seems basking in the balmy warmth, and the only unpleasant accompaniment to one's enjoyment is the dust, which letters; and the accused, instead of defying his accuser flies about in all directions, filling one's eyes, and to single combat in the name of his lady and his patron getting up one's nostrils, so that one feels as if con- saint, appears in the dock at the Old Bailey, and is tinually taking huge pinches of digh-dried Lundyfoot, packed off to Botany Bay, with as little consideration as without however experiencing the agreeably titillating if he were an ox being sent to Smithfield, instead of a affection which that precious mixture produces. It lineal descendant of Robin Hood and Goetz von Berstruck me as somewhat curious, to see the immense lichingen. quantities of fruit with which the apple-trees, which border the whole road, were laden, and all, apparently, in no danger. Recalling some reminiscences of more youthful days, I could not help thinking what a catch they would have been for some friends I could have named; and undoubtedly, if these apples are untouched, and if the robbing of orchards by school-boys be a crime, (which I have always considered, to say the least, very doubtful,) the youth of Germany must be imbued with a far higher tone of morality than their compeers of England, or cannot be endowed with that bump of acquisitiveness which makes surreptitious appropriation so dear to the British boy; or finally, which I suspect is the real reason after all, the apples must be uncommonly bad eating. But if the spirit and principle of Rob Roy "That he should take who has the power, Lovely as the Bergstrasse is, the finest part of it undoubtedly is the termination, when you come in view of Heidelberg, one of the most beautifully situated towns in Germany. Running down at right angles to the basin of the Rhine is the valley of the Neckar, and, as you emerge from the Bergstrasse, Heidelberg stands facing you on the opposite side of the river, with its magnificent, though ruined, castle, and its wood-crowned hills rising behind. Heildelberg, so far as I know, is celebrated for three things: its university, its castle, and its gigantic tun. Its college is the oldest in Germany, with the exception of that of Prague, and is generally considered the most thoroughly German in all its customs and habits. Here in their greatest purity are to be found all those usages of Burschenschaft, the duelling, the drinking, the wearing of antique costumes, the renowning and burning of Foxes, about which so much has been written of late. It has always been a matter of astonishment to me, that the reading public of England should have been able to stomach the vast quantity of trash which has issued from the press with regard to the usages and laws of the German students. Grave and ponderous volumes have appeared on the subject, giving as serious and minute an account of them as if the constitution of a country had been under consideration, instead of the follies of some idle young fellows, who prefer drinking and playing the fool to study. What is the object of all this? Are the Burschen customs held up for our imitation? I can hardly suppose so; and yet these usages must be either good and worthy of imitation, or else a system of egregious silliness. Take, for instance, the highly honoured custom of duelling. Can any thing be conceived more absurd than the code of honour laid down by the students, as regulating their combats. What more preposterous idea can be presented to the rational mind than that of a couple of young lads just come from school, first assailing each other with epithets of contempt, gradually rising in the scale of contumely, like Touchstone's rules for giving the lie, and then determining to fight the matter out, not with their fists, as might be predicated of reasoning beings at their age and in their station, but with pointless broadswords. Well, they are padded all over for the combat, so that no serious injury may be sustained-the face being the only real object of attack. To it they go, and after halfan-hour's flourishing, one of them gets a slash across the cheek, which does him no real harm, but leaves an unpleasant looking scar ever afterwards. Then all is made up again; the two combatants consider themselves heroes, whilst all the time they have not encountered as much danger as if they had been engaged in a bout of single stick, and the wounded man is as proud of his flowing blood, as if it were the proof of his warlike daring, instead of being, as it is, a proof that he has acted like a donkey. If I were rector of the Univerthe same principle that Gustavus Adolphus adopted, when he suppressed duelling in his army, by ordering that the combatants should always fight till one was slain, and that the other should then suffer on the scaffold. I would give the two young heroes a stout cudgel each, and make them belabour each other, till the one was fairly done for, and the victor should then receive a good birching-that would soon put an end to the romance of the thing, I suspect. exists no longer here, even so far as apples are concerned, it flourished to a splendid extent in former times, as is evidenced by the innumerable snug cosy-looking castles, now unhappily in ruins, which are perched on every convenient crag along the whole Bergstrasse; these were all the residences of those fine old hard-fisted, roughriding, deep drinking, savage, and yet jovial cut-throats, the robber-knights of Germany. And a glorious life they must have had of it in such a region. With such a rich expanse of country around them, France and Germany lying equally exposed to their attack, and the valley, which they looked down upon, the general highway for traffic, they must have had opportunity for extensive practice in the way of their profession; and then at home after a successful foray, how many a jovial rouse must they have had in their little robber-nests, as the Germans call them; in perfect security too, surrounded by precipices and defiles, where a handful of men could foil thousands! No need, either, to trouble themselves with long carriage for their wine, when every hill-side for miles was covered with vineyards. Gentle thieves they were, and chivalrous robbers, and, upon my soul, considering the character of the age in which they flourished, I do not wonder that their mode of life should have had such charms for them, that they should have required the exertions of the whole empire to reduce them. I could not help thinking of old Amergot Marcell's address to his former companions (who, though he was but a Frenchman, had all the spirit of a German robber-knight) as given by Froissart-"To pillage and to rob," he said, "was, all things considered, a good life-Ah, sirs, there is no sport or glory in this world among men of war, but to use such life as we have done in time past. What a joy it was to us when we rode forth at adventure, and sometimes found by the way a rich prior or merchant, or a route of mules laden with Brussels cloth, or with furs coming from the fairs, or with spicery ware from Bruges, from Damascus, from Alexandria.sity, I would soon put a stop to all this folly, on Whatever we met, all was ours, or else ransomed at our pleasure. Then for living, the peasants daily brought to our castle, wheat, flour, ready-baked bread, forage for our horses, good wines, beeves and fat sheep, pullets and wild fowl. We were furnished as though we had been kings. When we rode forth, the whole country trembled for fear-all was ours going and coming. By my faith, this was a fair and good life!" There spoke the good old spirit; in those days it was worth while being a robber and even being robbed; but now, one has one's handkerchief stolen by a rascally pickpocket coming out of the theatre; the rescue is made, not by mounted men-atarms, but by a policeman in a blue coat with white In fact, the students themselves are now beginning to be ashamed of all this humbug, and the more sensible among them are trying to put a stop to it. Societies are in several places formed, composed of those who declare themselves adverse to the principle of duelling, | marvellously fashioned, is usually placed in the angles and who object to the drinking of more than a stated of a chimney or a rock. Within, it is just as curiously allowance of beer at a sitting. Ridicule has also been constructed; a partition is devised by which the male drawn in as an auxiliary, and I should think a most is separated from the young ones. Here he nestles, looks potent one; for, as the greater part of the excesses of abroad like a sentinel for enemies, and then sleeps in the German students are the offspring of vanity, there his own little apartment when the time for rest comes. can be no better means of assailing them than by show- Surely in works like these there is food for admiration ! ing their folly. Various squibs have been published on To complete a work of this kind, think of the pains the subject, one of the best and most celebrated of which required: what persevering industry-what exhaustless is the Jobsiad," an heroic poem, in three parts; and, patience! as it is a pretty good specimen of German humour, which is a very different and much more ponderous article than English humour, I shall hereafter attempt to give some account of this book. NATURAL HISTORY OF BIRDS.-No. VIII. ance world. NESTS OF BIRDS. WE conclude, for the present, our series of papers on the Natural History of Birds by a few observations on Nests; purposing, however, to resume the subject at a future period, and to introduce to our readers' acquaintsome of the other families of the feathered A consideration of the dwellings which the different animals located on the earth form for themselves is by no means one of the least interesting departments of Natural History; and the dwellings of birds in particular offer to our notice examples both beautiful and diversified of that faculty we call instinct, which will always, we fear, be to us an incomprehensible problem. "A nest," says the learned lexicographer, Dr. Johnson, is " the bed formed by the bird for incubation and feeding her young." He might have added that it is a piece of workmanship at once elegant, and peculiarly fitted for its intended purpose; symmetrical, and calculated for some degree of duration. Though begun, as we must suppose, under the command of a blind necessity, yet a subtle foresight seems to regulate its construction. The work is continued by an enthusiasm which never fails, by an industry which drives the mind to reflect on faculties, wonderful in their aim and operation, which seem quite inexplicable. Each species of bird constructs an abode differing in form, adaptation, and situation, from that of any other. Birds of prey reside on the summit of high rocks, or on the pinnacle of an old tower. Their dwellings are fortified by enormous pieces of wood, which nature has given them the power of carrying through the air. Their muscular strength is so great that the transportation of weighty substances is attended with little difficulty. A habitation of this kind when once finished, it may be at the expense of much time and trouble, serves for a long line of descendants from the first builders, for it is seldom that these abodes are deserted until decay has altogether unfitted them for the required purpose; and they are so firmly constructed that many revolutions of the seasons must take place before they are utterly uninhabitable. Birds of prey are the only members of the feathered creation which take upon themselves to erect nests of this enduring kind; for the greater number of birds are content with dwellings of a less substantial nature: on the branch of a tree, against the side of a house, on the turf, or amongst the reeds. Some make use of bits of straw, small sticks, moss, down, cotton, or a hundred little things picked up here and there with great pains, and arranged in order in the selected locality. Their claws and beak are the only instruments used in combining and knitting together the matters which form the nest. Other species hang their nests from flexible branches which are put in motion by every wind. Others collect gravel and leaves which they cement by means of their saliva, and thus form a piece of masonry, impenetrable both by air and moisture. This nest, thus Some birds establish themselves on the ground between hillocks of earth which protect them from the wind, and from an overflow of water. These nests are, perhaps, not so carefully wrought as other kinds; yet here ingenuity is displayed in weaving twigs and down into a protecting entrenchment. Other species content themselves with digging a hole in the sand, and there depositing their eggs, which they leave the sun to hatch during the day, but to which they return at night. It is We cannot be expected to give any regular description of nests in this place; but it may be amusing to mention some of the most interesting specimens of bird architecture; and we will begin with the nest of the Longtailed Titmouse. This bird is not much larger than the wren; its head, neck, and breast are white; the rest of its body is chiefly black; its tail, from which it derives its distinctive appellation, is very long and wedge shaped. Pennant, after remarking that the young are in the habit of following their parents for the whole winter, says that, "from the slimness of their bodies and great length of tail, they appear, while flying, like so many darts cutting the air." Its nest is closed over, both above and below; only one little circular opening at the side is left, serving for door and window. made completely round; and as the cold might enter by the orifice, the bird makes use of door curtains similar to those which some of our rooms possess; the entrance to its habitation being furnished with a hanging of flexible and transparent feathers. Thus it is protected from rain, and from the gaze of casual passers by. Through this it goes out and comes back just as it pleases, without causing the least disarrangement. This is not all; the titmouse is so small a bird that it has much to fear from foes of many kinds; and, therefore, to conceal the place of its abode it has recourse to a subterfuge. It fixes its nest to the trunk of a tree, and then covers it up with such parasitical plants as grow on the bark, so as not in the least to disturb the natural appearance. Sometimes the nest is placed in the centre of a thick bush, and so firmly is it seated that if we desire to procure it, no ordinary method of dislodgement will do, it must be cut out. The nest is made by the female, who is occupied two or three weeks in building it. There is another member of the tit tribe which takes still greater precautions. It is one that builds in watery places, and it stands in danger of being attacked by reptiles. Accordingly, it suspends its nest from a flexible branch over the water. The entrance to the nest is formed by a sort of pipe, through which it would be impossible for a snake to penetrate. Another kind of titmouse adds to its nest a little cell, in which the male and female rest after tending their young. The birds are very small, delicate, and weak; yet the nest they build is very large: indeed, wonderfully so, when the diminutive size of the architect is considered. The labour is begun in the middle of winter, and is not completed until spring. The hatching is a long process, twenty-two being the customary number of eggs; and the female takes all the trouble of sitting on them to herself. The reed warbler, so named from the places it frequents, is also endowed with a wonderfully adaptive instinct. To escape the dangers of the element over which it hatches its young, it builds at once a house and a boat. The nest is slightly attached to the reeds, and is coated with a gummy substance, which effectually precludes the water from entering, in case the nest should slip down, or the water should rise. We have seen a nest of the tailor bird so artfully constructed, that to view its interior it was necessary to unrip the stitches and cut off the tightly drawn knots. Several leaves had been brought together, and their edges conneted by means of cotton or fibrous plants. There you had the thread; but can you guess the needle? It was no other than the beak, an instrument admirably adapted for the purpose by its strength and sharpness. As examples of exquisite art we might adduce the nests of the thrush, the witwall, and, above all, of the grossbeaks, who erect an immense dwelling-place, to contain five or six hundred inhabitants, all living together on good terms. A great number of these birds form a building society, and unite their efforts to erect a little town of nests. Having selected a large tree proper for the purpose, they first construct a roof woven out of large plants, close enough to be rain proof. This labour ended they distribute the interior space amongst the members of this bird-partnership, and the nests are attached side by side to the roof, all being of the same size. Each bird has generally his private entrance; but sometimes it happens that one door gives access to two or three nests. Each nest is about three inches in diameter, and is made of plants, but of a less coarse kind than those used for the roof; they are equally securely fastened together, and within there is a lining of down. As the population increases, new nests are placed upon the old ones; and some of these latter are left by their occupants, and converted into a public pathway, conducting to the new dwellings. The traveller Vaillant brought one of these little towns in an entire state to Europe, roof as well as nests. It contained three hundred and twenty cells; now, if one pair occupied each nest, the whole would comprise a population of six hundred and forty birds. It would form an interesting employ-places, and those which have been most recently conment to trace the domestic life of any one pair of birds for a year. We cannot, however, see the labourers at their work, and we must remain in ignorance of what we would most like to know. It is probable that the nests are deserted when the young broods have taken wing, until the females return to deposit their eggs again. One is at a loss to guess how these associations are constituted at first, and how they are reformed when once dissolved. The fauvette of St. Domingo builds a nest that cannot but fix the attention of the most careless observer. Put together with an industry that passes description, we find it composed of dry herbs, leaf-fibres, and flexible roots, which are woven, with great art, into a substance shaped like a ball, compact, and not to be penetrated by the wet. It is hermetically closed at the top, and all round, except an opening at the bottom, so that the bird has to ascend in order to get into its nest. One particular part, divided from the rest by a partition, is reserved for the brood. It is ornamented with lichen, and made very comfortable with a lining of silky down. The adroitness with which the fauvette defends its young from their many enemies, and conceals the cradle where they commence a life full of uncertainties to them as well to beings higher in the scale of creation, should not be without its meed of applause. A cane, short, and fluctuating between two trees above water, is taken possession of, and the prudent mother fastens her nest to it by a band, at the same time strong and pliant. The wind may shake this aerial habitation, and beat it to and fro, but it is completely protected against the invasion of rats and such like vermin. But, should a bird of prey, more formidably adapted for rapine, approach the little dwelling, its attention is diverted by the male or the female, hopping as if wounded, only a short distance in advance of the enemy, until the danger is removed from the neighbourhood." We shall close this imperfect sketch of an interesting part of natural history with an account of a nest which is equally important in the annals of gastronomy as of zoology. We allude to the nests of Tonquin, which form no trivial article of commerce in the Chinese and Indian seas. These nests rank as a delicate tit-bit in the Dutch cuisine. This strange article of diet is the work of a species of Hirundo; it is not composed, as some have stated, of fish and other animal matter, but of macerated seaweed. A plant of the Indian seas, containing a large quantity of sugar, has been recognised in the nest. When the bird has bruised it, it is placed in cup-like layers, and then receives the eggs. These nests are principally sought for in caverns along the coast of the islands which separate the Pacific and the Indian oceans, such as Flores, Timor, Amboyna, Tahiti and the Marquesas. To reach these caverns scooped by the sea it is often necessary to descend some hundreds of feet from the top, and to overhang a deep abyss for the space of an hour, whilst the adventurers step cautiously downwards, holding on as well as they can by the vegetation on the face of the rock. The entrance being attained, and flambeaus lighted, they proceed to search for nests. They are chiefly found in the clefts and crevices, where no little precaution is required. The darkness in these depths is never dissipated except by artificial light, and nothing is heard except the roar of the neighbouring ocean. A steady head and a sure foot are required to escalade the damp and slipping rocks-one false step would be followed by certain destruction. Accidents, however, do not happen very often. Sometimes, however, in the midst of the silence with which the gathering is conducted, a sudden cry is heard, a torch is extinguished, and a portion of rock rolls down the precipice with a noise like thunder, echoed and reechoed through all the chambers of the vast cavern. The affrighted labourers then know that they have lost a comrade. The nests most sought after are those picked up in the wettest structed. They are whiter, cleaner, and more transparent than the others. The gathering takes place twice a year, and if care be taken not to injure the rocks at the first taking, the number on the second occasion is pretty nearly equal to that on the first. Before they are sold to the Chinese they are carefully dried, in which process the sun is not allowed to approach them, lest their colour and quality should be deteriorated. They are then sorted and packed up in wooden boxes. A considerable quantity of these nests is destined for the table of the court; the Chinese declare that nothing can be more nourishing or delicious than this article of diet. Perhaps, however, its only recommendation is the high price, which flatters the vanity of the rich, who can alone afford to be purchasers. A favourite dish with Chinese epicures is a soup made of these edible nests. They are reduced into very thin filaments; the mess is transparent as isinglass, and resembles vermicelli, having little or no taste. The annual quantity of nests imported into China is calculated to be about 242,000 pounds weight, and taking the average price per pound to be 27. sterling, there is an expenditure by the growers of tea in the purchase of birds' nest of nearly half a million of money a year. The traffic is monopolised by the sovereigns of the respective islands where the nests are found, who derive a considerable revenue from it: and the possession of the fortunate localities has not unfrequently been furiously contested. We can easily conceive that so valuable a merchandise will excite the passion of cupidity amongst the uneducated natives of those parts. Indeed, buccaneers and pirates often make a descent upon the caverns which are least difficult of access, and not only carry off the nests, but injure the rocks, so that the annual supply is afterwards seriously diminished. But in places where there is a pretty strong government, or where the caves are not easily got at, the revenue never varies very much. Thus the caverns of Goenong Goete, in Java, yield about 7000 lbs. of nests annually, which sell in the Batavian market for about 139,000 Spanish dollars. The expenses October 28.-Feast of SS. Simon and Jude. THESE eminent apostles are justly commemorated by the Church on this day, as appears to have been the usage from the year 1091, when their festival was first instituted. There is every reason to conclude that they were brothers; and the Latins assert that they preached the apostolical mystery in Persia, where they suffered martyrdom by crucifixion, A. D. 74. "It has excited some surprise," remarks Brady, "that only one day should have been devoted by the Church to the commemoration of both these apostles; but it may naturally be accounted for, by the circumstances of their common origin from the same parents, their union in the ministry, and from their having both fallen victims to idolatrous persecution at the same period." This feast was formerly considered as rainy as St. Swithin's. A character in the "Roaring Girl," one of Reed's old plays, says, "As well as I know 'twill rain upon Simon and Jude's Day;" and afterwards, "Now a continual Simon and Jude's rain beat all your feathers as flat as pancakes." Hollinshed relates, that, on the eve of this day, in 1536, when a battle was to have been fought between the troops of Henry VIII. and the insurgents in Yorkshire, there fell so great a rain, that it could not take place. In the Runic Kalendar, the festival of SS. Simon and Jude is marked by a ship, on account of their having been fishermen. October 31.-Allhallow Eben. This is the vigil of the Feast of All Saints. It is called in Scotland HALLOWEEN. In former times it closed the festivity of the harvest, and was the last joyful feast of the ecclesiastical year. Biographical Sketches of Eminent Painters. CARAVAGGIO. THIS remarkable painter's real name was Michael Angelo Amerigi, but he is more generally known by that of Caravaggio, a surname given to him from a village in the Milanese territory, where he was born in the year 1569. It is probable, also, that he was thus designated to distinguish him, in after times, from his renowned namesake, Michael Angelo Buonaroti, who died five years before the birth of Caravaggio, at the advanced age of eighty-nine years and eleven months, as stated in the life of that painter. Caravaggio was originally a labourer, and, being employed in carrying the materials used by artists for works in fresco, he became ambitious to be a painter himself; and with this view he devoted his nights to the study of design. He was gifted with considerable talent, but wanted taste. He sought to astonish rather than to please, and was celebrated for the bold and extravagant opposition of his lights and shadows. At one period he studied the graceful style of Giorgione, whose works Titian so much admired, and so successfully imitated. Caravaggio's best productions are said to be those which he painted after Giorgione's manner; but he soon abandoned it, and established a style of his own, in which energy and truth are more conspicuous than variety and refinement. Nature was his model for every object which he introduced into his compositions, but he imitated indiscriminately the beauties and defects of his models, and does not appear to have had any fixed idea of grace or grandeur. It is said that he always painted in a room where the light descended from above. he gave to his productions, the mellowness of his Notwithstanding the undignified character which' pencil, the boldness of his design, and the excellence of his colouring, drew after him a number of imitators, among whom were his contemporaries, Domenichino and Guido. They soon perceived, however, that Caravaggio's manner wanted variety; the lights being the same in all sorts of subjects, and his design, though striking, deficient in point of taste. Yet many of his pictures are very fine, and admirably finished. Caravaggio's first works consisted of fruit and flowers, but afterwards he painted historical pieces and portraits. In the latter, and in his nightpieces, the colouring is so good, and the lights so well distributed, that a surprising effect is produced. In the church of St. Martin, at Naples, there is a picture by Caravaggio, representing the denial of St. Peter, with half-length figures as large as life. The head of the apostle is extremely fine, with a great deal of expression; and the whole composition is justly admired for the excellence of the colouring and the correctness of the design. Subjects of a tragical nature seem to have been most suited to the genius of Caravaggio, and to this taste his irascible temper probably contributed. His animosity towards Giuseppino and Guido is well known. Meeting the former one day in a street of Rome, Caravaggio insulted him in the grossest manner, drew his sword, and killed a young man who came to the assistance of Giuseppino. In consequence of this crime, Caravaggio was obliged to take refuge in a neighbouring state, until a pardon was obtained for him; but scarcely was he at liberty to return to Rome, than he challenged Giuseppino to fight a duel, which the latter declined, on the ground that, being a knight of the order of St. Michael, he could not put himself on a level with any one whose rank was not equal to his own. This refusal exasperated Caravaggio, who hastened to Malta, and, having complied with the usual probationary rules, he was admitted into the order of Knights of Malta. Having thus attained his object, he made preparations to quit the island, when again his quarrelsome disposition involved him in trouble. He insulted one of the chiefs of the order into which he had been just received, and was immediately seized and thrown into prison, whence he attempted to escape, but was pursued by the guard, fired at, wounded, and again imprisoned. trived, however, to perforate the walls of his dun He con |