taste, have been inclined rather to have given a place to these extraordinary musicians at that banquet of nothing-lessthan-sweet sounds, imagined by old Jeremy Collier (Essays, 1698; Part. 2. On Music.) where, after describing the inspirating effects of martial music in a battle, he hazards an ingenious conjecture, whether a sort of Anti-music might not be invented, which should have quite the contrary effect of "sinking the spirits, shaking the nerves, curdling the blood, and inspiring despair, and cowardice and consternation." "Tis probable" says, "the roaring of lions, the warbling of cats and screech-owls, together with a mixture of the howling of dogs, judiciously imitated and compounded, might go a great way in this invention." The dose, we confess, is pretty potent, and skilfully enough prepared. But what shall we say to the Ass of Silenus (quoted by TIMS), who, if we may trust to classic lore, by his own proper sounds, without thanks to cat or screech-owl, dismaid and put to rout a whole army of giants? Here was Anti-music with a vengeance; a whole Pan-Dis-Harmonicon in a single lungs of leather! he But I keep you trifling too long on this Asinine subject. I have already past the Pons Asinorum, and will desist, remembering the old pedantic pun of Jem Boyer, my schoolmaster: Ass in præsenti seldom makes a WISE MAN in futuro. FLORAL DIRECTORY. C. L. According to Butler, St. Faith was a female of Aquitain, put to death under Dacian. He says she was titular saint of several churches in France, particularly that of Longueville in Normandy, which was enriched by Walter Giffard, earl of Buckingham. He also says she was patroness of the priory of Horsam, in the county of Norfolk;" that "the subterraneous chapel of St. Faith, built under St. Paul's, in London, was also very famous ;" and that "an arm of the saint was formerly kept at Glastenbury." Nevertheless, Mr. Audley thinks, that as the ancient Romans deified Faith according to the heathen mythology, and as christian Rome celebrates on August 1st the passion of the holy virgins, Faith, Hope, and Charity, it is highly probable these virtues have been mistaken for persons; and, admitting this, Dr. M. Geddes smartly says, "they may be truly said to have suffered, and still to suffer martyrdom at Rome." Mr. Audley adds. "There is indeed the church of St. Faith at London; but as our calendar is mostly copied from the Romish one, that will account for the introduction of the good virgin amongst us."* ST. BRUNO. This saint was an anchoret and the founder of the Carthusian monks. He Starlike Camomile. Boltonia Asteroides. is stiled by writers of his own age Dedicated to St. Placidus. October 6. St. Bruno, Founder of the Carthusian mas ter of the Chartreuse;" from his order comes our Charter-house at London. A prelate of the same name is renowned in story, and his last adventures are related in verse. BISHOP BRUNO. "Bruno, the bishop of Herbipolitanum, sailing in the river of Danubius, with Henry the Third, then emperour, being not far from a place which the Germanes call Ben Strudel, or the devouring gulfe, which is neere unto Grinon, a castle in Austria, a spirit was heard clamouring aloud, Ho! ho! bishop Bruno, whither art thou travelling? but dispose of thyself how thou pleasest, thou shalt be my prey and spoile.' At the hearing of these words they were all stupified, and the bishop with the rest crost and blest themselves. The issue was, that within a short time after, the bishop feasting with the emperor in a castle belonging to the countesse of Esburch, a rafter fell from the roof of the chamber wherein they sate, and strooke him dead at the table." Heywood's Hierarchie of the blessed Angels. Comp. to Almanac. Bishop Bruno awoke in the dead midnight, Bishop Bruno smiled at his fears so vain He started up at the fearful dream, And he heard at his window the screech owl scream! Bishop Bruno slept no more that night; Oh! glad was he when he saw the day light! Now he goes forth in proud array, Before and behind his soldiers ride, So he went on stately and proud, When he heard a voice that cried aloud, Ho! ho! bishop Bruno! you travel with glee- Behind, and before, and on either side, And the bishop at that grew cold with fear, And when he rung the palace bell, But soon the bishop recover'd his glee, And now the bishop had blest the meat, The bishop then grew pale with affright, All the wine and dainty cheer Could not comfort his heart so sick with fear. But by little and little recovered he 1 When he sat down to the royal fare Then from amid the masquers' crowd You have passed the day, bishop Bruno, with glee! His cheek grows pale and his eye-balls glare, With that there came one from the masquers' band, The bony hand suspended his breath, His marrow grew cold at the touch of Death; FLORAL DIRECTORY. Southey. property I think highly worthy of observ Lateflowering Feverfew. Pyrethrum Sero- ation, which I have found common to the tinum. Squirrels and Hares. On a remark by the hon. Daines Barrington, that "to observe the habits and manners of animals is the most pleasing part of the study of zoology," a correspondent, in a letter to "Mr. Urban," says I have for several years diverted myself by keeping squirrels, and have found in them not less variety of humours and dispositions than Mr. Cowper observed in his hares. I have had grave and gay, fierce and gentle, sullen and familiar, and tractable and obedient squirrels. One species, as far as my acquaintance with them has extended; and that acquaintance has been by no means confined to a few : yet this property has, I believe, never been adverted to by any zoological writer. I mean, that they have an exact musical ear. Not that they seem to give the least attention to any music, vocal or instrumental, which they hear; but they universally dance in their cages to the most exact time, striking the ground with their feet in a regular measured cadence, and never changing their tune without an interval of rest. I have known them dance perhaps ten minutes in allegro time of eight quavers in a bar, thus: then, after a pause, they would change to the time of six quavers divided into three quavers and a dotted crotchet, thus: again, after a considerable rest, they would return to common time divided by four semiquavers, one crotchet, four semiquavers and another crotchet, in a bar, thus: always continuing to dance or jump to the same tune for many minutes, and always resting before a change of tune. I once kept a male and a female in one large cage, who performed a peculiar dance together thus; the male jumped sideways, describing a portion of a circle in the air; the female described a portion of a smaller circle concentric with the first, always keeping herself duly under the male, performing her leap precisely in the same time, and grounding her feet in the same moment with him. While the male moved from A to B, or from B to A, the female moved from C to D, or from D to C, and their eight feet were so critically grounded together, that they gave but one note. I must observe, that this practice of dancing seems to be an expedient to amuse them in their confinement; because, when they are for a time released from their cages, they never dance, but reserve this diversion until they are again immured." 66 Mr. Urban's correspondent continues thus, no squirrel will lay down what he actually has in his paws, to receive even food which he prefers, but will always eat or hide what he has, before he will accept what is offered to him. Their sagacity in the selection of their food is truly wonderful. I can easily credit what I have been told, that in their winter hoards not one faulty nut is to be found; for I never knew them accept a single nut, when offered to them, which was either decayed or destitute of kernel: some they reject, having only smelt them; but they seem usually to try them by their weight, poising them in their fore-feet. In eating, they hold their food not with their whole forefeet, but between the inner toes or thumbs. I know not whether any naturalist has observed that their teeth are of a deep orange colour." This gentleman, who writes late in the year 1788, proceeds thus, " A squirrel sits by me while I write this, who was born in the spring, 1781, and has been mine near seven years. He is, like Yorick, ' a whoreson mad fellow-a pestilent knave-a fellow of infinite jest and fancy. When he came to me, I had a venerable squirrel, corpulent, and unwieldy with age. The young one agreed well with him from their first introduction, and slept in the same cage with him; but he could never refrain from diverting himself with the old gentleman's infirmities. It was my custom daily to let them both out on the floor, and then to set the cage on a table, placing a chair near it to help the old squirrel in returning to his home. This was great exercise to the poor old brute; and it was the delight of the young rogue to frustrate his efforts, by suffering him to climb up one bar of the chair, then pursuing him, embracing him round the waist, and pulling him down to the ground; then he would suffer him to reach the second bar, or perhaps the seat of the chair, and afterwards bring him back to the floor as at first. All this was done in sheer fun and frolic, with a look and manner full of inexpressible archness and drollery. The old one could not be seriously angry at it; he never fought or scolded, but gently complained and murmured at his unlucky companion. One day, about an hour after this exercise, the old squirrel was found dead in his cage, his wind and his heart being quite broken by the mischievous wit of his young messmate. My present squirrel one day assaulted and bit me without any provocation. To break him of this trick, I pursued him some minutes about the room, stamping and scolding at him, and threatening him with my handkerchief. After this, I continued to let him out daily, but took no notice of him for some months. The coolness was mutual: he neither fled from me, nor attempted to come near me. At length I called him to me: it appeared that he had only waited for me to make the first advance; he threw off his gravity towards me, and ran up on my shoulder. Our reconciliation was cordial and lasting; he has never attempted to bite me since, and there appears no probability of another quarrel between us, though he is every year wonderfully savage and ferocious at the first coming-in of filberts and walnuts. He is frequently suffered to expatiate in my garden; he has never of late attempted to wander beyond it; he always climbs up a very high ash tree, and soon |