"The chinchilla," says Molina, "is another species of field-rat, in great estimation for the extreme fineness of its wool, if a rich fur as delicate as the silken webs of the garden spiders may be so termed. It is of an ash-grey, and sufficiently long for spinning. The little animal which produces it is six inches long from the nose to the root of the tail, with small pointed ears, a short muzzle, teeth like the house-rat, and a tail of moderate 'length, clothed with a delicate fur. It lives in burrows underground, in the open country of the northern provinces of Chili, and is very fond of being in company with others of its species. It feeds upon the roots of various bulbous plants which grow abundantly in those parts; and produces twice a-year five or six young ones. It is so docile and mild in temper, that if taken into the hands it neither bites nor tries to escape; but seems to take a pleasure in being caressed. If placed in the bosom, it remains there as still and quiet as if it were in its own nest. This extraordinary placidity may possibly be rather due to its pusillanimity, which renders it extremely timid. As it is in itself peculiarly cleanly, there can be no fear of its soiling the clothes of those who handle it, or of its communicating any bad smell to them, for it is entirely free from that ill odour which characterizes the other species of rats. For this reason, it might well be kept in the houses with no annoyance and at a trifling expense, which would be abundantly repaid by the profits on its wool. The ancient Peruvians, who were far more industrious than the modern, made of this wool coverlets for beds and valuable stuffs." 66 "To the account of its habits given by Molina we can only add that it usually sits upon its haunches, and is even able to raise itself up and stand upon its hinder feet. It feeds in a sitting posture, grasping its food and conveying it to its mouth by means of its fore paws. In its temper it is generally mild and tractable, but it will not always suffer itself to be handled without resistance, and sometimes bites the hand which attempts to fondle it when not in a humour to be played with. "Although a native of the alpine valleys of Chili, and consequently subjected in its own country to the effects of a low temperature of the atmosphere, against which its thick coat affords an admirable protection, it was thought necessary to keep it during the winter in a moderately warm room, and a piece of flannel was even introduced into its sleeping apartment for its greater comfort. But this indulgence was most pertinaciously rejected, and as often as the flannel was replaced, so often was it dragged by the little animal into the outer compartment of its cage, where it amused itself with pulling it about, rolling it up and shaking it with its feet and teeth. In other respects it exhibits but little playfulness, and gives few signs of activity; seldom disturbing its usual quietude by any sudden or extraordinary gambols, but occasionally displaying strong symptoms of alarm when startled by any unusual occurrence. It is, in fact, a remarkably tranquil and peaceable animal, unless when its timidity gets the better of its gentleness." It is melancholy to reflect how many of our fairest dreams of boyhood are doomed to fade into the light of common day. Upon us scribblers, this law of nature operates with peculiar severity. With what face can we ever speak of a swan-like end, now that we have read what follows! "Not to speak of the difference in the number of their ribs, which are twelve in the Wild Swan, and eleven only in the Tame, their tracheæ or windpipes afford un questionable evidence of their distinctness. This organ, which, in the Tame Swan, passes directly from the neck into the cavity of the chest without forming any previous convolution, enters in the Wild species an appropriate cavity in the keel of the breastbone, within which it passes to a considerable depth, then returns upwards, and is again inflected over the edge of the sternum before plunging into the chest. Ray was the first to point out this marked distinction between the two birds, which had previously been regarded as doubtful species. It was neglected, however, by later naturalists, and even Buffon and Linnæus were inclined to consider them as mere varieties; but in these days, when the importance of anatomical characters is fully recognised, they are universally allowed to be distinct. * "Aldrovandus, who was the first to observe the striking inflections of the windpipe in the Wild Swan, but without being aware of the difference in that respect between it and the Tame, regarded this peculiar structure as a confirmation of the old opinion, that the Swan possessed a melodious voice with which, on the approach of death, it performed its own funeral dirge. This story, as far as regards the harmony of its voice, has frequently been revived; but those who have had the best opportunities of hearing the monotonous sounds which the Wild Swans actually produce, are universally agreed in discrediting it as an altogether imaginary fable. We have ourselves frequently listened to them in the Gardens of the Society on fine evenings in the summer time, and could not but agree with Hearne in regarding the noise which they made as not very unlike that of a French horn, but entirely divested of every note that constitutes melody.' M. de Bomare compares it, with equal felicity, to the sound of two small children's trumpets, and declares that if any modern writer pretends that the Swan has a melodious voice, he deserves to be compared with the blind man of Cheselden, who had no other idea of the colour of scarlet than that which was suggested by the sound of a trumpet." "The Gardens and Menagerie of the Zoological Society" is a book at once solid and entertaining, elegant and useful. Pin Money; a Novel. By the authoress of "The Manners of the Day." In three volumes. London. Colburn and Bentley. We are not particular admirers of the sentimental domestic novel, still less of the fashionable novel; and we are rather at a loss what to think of a novel which, like the present, is a compound of both. We certainly do not go so far as Mrs Gore in its praise; still less do we incline to agree with those who utterly condemn it. The danger of this kind of reading lies only in its excess. So, after all, we may leave the question where it is, at present, most suitably placed-in the limbo of vanity, waiting for some person to discuss it who has nothing better to do; and spare our readers a mortal column of the solemn didactic, which they would in all probability skip. We should, we know, were we in their place. Mrs Gore is a woman of superior talent, that is already admitted on all hands. Her novel has a story in it, but the narrative never was our forte. We have positively, therefore, nothing left us to say of Pin Money, except that it is a very readable book, and we accordingly betake us as quickly as we can to the making of extracts. What follows is a clever picture of the ménage of a small would-be statesman : "It is not to be supposed that a wholesale and retail dealer in Parliament could have fixed his domicile in any other parish than that of St Margaret, Westminster; and Sir Brooke accordingly found himself driven to the entrance of a paved court-an old-fashioned cul-de-sac——— whose heavy architraves of carved wood-work, narrow windows, and ostensible roofing of red tile, formed a me "It is to be hoped that the courteous reader of these memoirs has formed no expectation of hearing what it was that Mr Lexley thought fit to utter, when he found himself alone,' with his friend Sir Brooke, and the two dumb waiters. The mysteries of Isis are more rigidly sacred in our sight, than those occasionally transacted in the parish of St Margaret; and if the process which suf tive of the respectable borough of Martwich, should ever chance to be betrayed to posterity, so indiscreet a revelation shall never be traced to our pages. We prefer adjourning from Mr Lexley's second course, to the dinner in Charles Street." An excellent pendant to this picture offers itself in the Lady Olivia Tadcaster, one of your everlastingly bustling penny-wise and pound-foolish persons .– Fortunately for Frederica, the attention of Lady Olivia was wholly diverted from her embarrassment by the appearance of a dish of coquilles aux huitres in the second course,-giving rise to one of her monitory discussions. "A mysterious-looking, middle-aged man, with speckled stockings, powdered hair, and a slight hint of a pig-ficed to render our estimable Rawleigh sole representatail, who might have been indiscriminately taken for a butler, a clerk, or a secretary, circumspectly ushered the expected guest into his master's study, with a whispered assurance that Mr Lexley would shortly make his ap-pearance, having probably been detained at the House; and Sir Brooke, as he gazed around the uninviting chamber, could not but feel that he should be very unwilling to adopt the habits of life of this active servant of the country, in assuming a similar weight of Parliamentary responsibility. He examined the tall, dark, spider-legged mahogany writing-table, spotted with much ink, and indented with severe penmanship; the unsightly bookcases filled with vellum-bound folios, and buff-leather quartos, (REPORTS, from vol. 1. to vol. DXXVIII.,)-and a ragged regiment of loose and unconnected pamphlets; the chimney-piece graced with two dusty glas girandoles, and a museum of printed and wafered circulars, addressed by divers clerkly hands, to "John Lexley, Esq. M. P." till his mind involuntarily reverted to his snug library at Rawleighford, Morel-and-Seddonized into the utmost refinement of literary ease, and musky with Russia leather!-its scattered memoranda collected under the paper-weights of Vulliamy's choicest bronze, and its artificial light distributed by reading-lamps and shaded candles, such as might have assisted Methuselah, or old Parr, to decipher a diamond edition, without spectacles! "After the miserable solitude of a quarter of an hour passed in a retreat presenting few extraneous attractions to divert the attention of its owner from the dry details to which he saw fit to devote his existence, a hurried rap announced Mr Lexley's return, and having accosted his punctual guest with an incoherent explanation touching the lateness of the division, the harassed member alluded to the necessity of washing those hands, the cleanliness of which had been so much lauded by Sir Brooke to Frederica, and rushed up the creaking stairs in his usual flurry of superfluous activity. "I was quite surprised to learn from my sister the other day, that she had her oysters from Grove!—As if any one in their senses ever dreamed of purchasing oysters from a fishmonger!' "Who, then, ought to furnish them ;-the baker?' enquired Sir Brooke, who partook, in some slight degree, of his aunt Derenzy's predilection for domestic details. "It is a trade in itself,' replied Lady Olivia, swallowing an oyster with an air of infinite contempt. Do you imagine that a real gastronome, in Paris, would eat an oyster from any other hands than those of the shell-fish merchant who sits on the stairs at the Rocher de Can cale?' "In Paris; but we who reside in London, are compelled to forego that luxury. Martin, who supplies us with oysters?' enquired Sir Brooke of his butler; who had fixed his eyes upon Lady Olivia with all the abhorrence which upper servants are apt to cherish against visitors who give both trouble and advice. "Taylor of Piccadilly, Sir Brooke.' "Take away my plate!' cried Lady Olivia, indignantly; I would as soon swallow my own kid gloves, as oysters which have been swimming without their shells all the morning in a fishmonger's brown pipkin of cold water.' Lady Rawleigh is too inexperienced a housekeeper to enter into these details at present. Your ladyship must be generous enough to assist her with your advice.' "Rawleigh, who was now growing hungry and fractious, was right glad when at length he found himself seated opposite to his host at the dinner-table, with a tu"Why it stands to reason that their flavour must evareen of very diaphanous mock-turtle, and a dish of flac-porate,' observed Sir Brooke, pushing away his own; cid salmon, smothered in horse-radish, and surrounded by some smelts, of the consistency of cuttle-fish, standing between them. As soon as he had in some degree appeased his appetite with these uninviting provisions, which Mr Lexley announced to be bachelor's fare,' or pot-luck,' or some other apologetic designation of a filthy dinner, Sir Brooke, on casting his eyes around him, perceived that a well-stored dumb waiter was placed near his host, and another within his own reach, and that no sooner had the mysterious butler placed upon the board two bottles of sherry, a saddle of rancid mutton, a haycock of mashed potatoes, and a tepid salad, than he withdrew from attendance-closing the door as charily after him as if either his master, or his master's guest, were labouring under a concussion of the brain. It was evident that he was familiarly trained to the business-like privacy of Mr Lexley's confidential dinners. "And now, my dear sir, we are alone!' said Lexley, in an opening phrase, twisting, as he spoke, his long throat over his shoulder, like that of an ill-trussed ptarmigan, to ascertain that his cup-bearer had left the room. Unconsciously the awe-struck baronet followed his scrutinizing glance, and began to feel that there was something inexpressibly awful in all these mysterious preparations for secrecy. Nothing was wanting but Miss Kelly, to render the scene a perfect melo-drame ! "Why, I will tell you exactly how I manage,' said Lady Olivia, who had now arrived at the point she desired. 'There is a young man lately set up in business at Harwich, who formerly lived as valet with poor dear Mr Tadcaster, and whom I consider it my duty to patronise. I have given him a commission to supply me once a-week during the season; and I will get a frank tonight at Axiom's, and write to him to-morrow to send a supply to you at the same time. Your establishment is larger than mine, so that you will require double the quantity.' ́ ́ Oysters are already out of season,' said Frederica, negatively. "And once a-week!' cried Sir Brooke ;-' surely it is better to depend upon Taylor for a daily supply?' "By sending the barrels round by Doddingham, which is not above eight or ten miles out of the way, I get them brought at a very reasonable rate by an errandcart kept by a cousin of my own maid's. It is not many days on the road, and the carter is a trustworthy man, who may be relied on.'" For once in our lives we are tempted to admit a scene of fashionable life into our columns, and here it is : 66 6 'A very comprehensive word, my dear duchess!" said Countess Ronthorst spitefully. "I do not believe she has ever strayed out of the peerage.' "Oh! fie!' cried Lady Lavinia again, giving a playful tap with her spangled fan to the withered sticks shrunken within the spreading velvet sleeve of the Duchess of Trimblestown. "It was very amusing to observe the air of maternal protection assumed by this ancient lady towards many of her acquaintance among the grisly dowagers; who-being by ten years her own juniors--she regarded as young creatures, requiring her chaperonage as much as when it first ushered them into the coteries of the Marchioness of Rockingham, or of the old Princess Amelia. In many a withered fold and wrinkle Lady Derenzy still beheld its original dimple, and saw nothing but the glossiness of "What creatures one sees here, now-a-days!' said their long lost tresses in the frizzed toupees of many a Lady Derenzy with a sneer, the acrid influence of which faded brow; the immobility of rheumatic joints she might have tarnished the gold lace upon old Lord Twamistook for an air of languor-and the trembling of pal- dells regimentals, who stood beside her, which were cut sied heads for the mincing of a coquettish demeanour. after the fashion of those of the great Marquis of Granby Whenever Frederica could disengage her own attention on a signpost. Yonder gaunt-looking woman, bristled from the assiduities of which she was the object on every like the crest of William de la Mark and covered with side, and from the affectionate greetings of various branches jewels, is the daughter of Lord Waldinghurst's steward.' of her own noble and extensive family, she could not but "But with your ladyship's permission, if I may venoverhear snatches of the singular colloquies which arose ture an opinion on a point where your ladyship is in all between her venerable companion and certain of her super-probability so very much better informed,' said Lord annuated contemporaries, whose horrifically spectral ap- Twaddell,—emphasizing with his well-powdered head, till pearance would have entered into admirable partnership with that of the phantom king of Denmark on the bastions of Elsineur. And as she listened to their courtly croakings, she thought of the three awful' cummers' assembled on the grave-stones of Ravenswood church, in the tale of the Bride of Lammermoor; of which the conclave of these ghastly antiques in velvet, with diamonds glimmering like sepulchral lamps beside their effigies, might have afforded a parody. "Saw you ever a more crowded drawingroom?' whispered Countess Ronthorst to the old dowager Duchess of Trimblestown. "Crowded-umph!' mumbled her grace, with a scowl that gleamed beneath her shaggy brows, like the glittering eyes of a wild beast in the depths of some horrid cave overhung with brambles. Crowded like the hustings at Covent Garden, and almost as noisy.-People admitted who would be rejected from the long parlour at the Easter dinner. It was not so in the queen's time; it all arises from the want of female presidency,-Faugh!' "How haggard Lady Rochester is beginning to look!' whispered Lady Lavinia Lisle to Countess Ronthorst. 'Between ourselves, they say she has had repeated paralytic warnings, from the effects of the white lead with which she has been stuccoing her face for the last twenty years.' "Say rather from the effects of the elixir de Garus, with which she has been poisoning her system for the last ten. Women who begin at twenty to take eau de Cologne dropped on sugar whenever they feel out of spirits, are seldom out of spirits at fifty-five. Lady Rochester's nécessaire has more rosolio and alkermès in its crystal flasks, than eau de Ninion, or bouquet des dames!" observed Lady Derenzy, joining the scandalous parliament. the white particles flew in all directions, and the duchess's velvet appeared to have taken multure in kind from his floury abundance,—' that lady is now the much-respected wife of one of our most eminent law-lords.' "Law-lords!-Birmingham nobility!' cried Countess Ronthorst, the naturalized widow of a former Austrian Ambassador, whose quarterings would have agonized Sir Isaac Heard, and required all the skill of the Ratisbon College or Toison d'or to emblazon. I do not see why the Courts of Chancery and Common Pleas should serve as antechambers to the Court of St James's!' "I saw my chaplain and my physician bowing to each other on the stairs,' said Lady Derenzy, like two rooks noddling their heads in a ploughed field.' "The learned professions, ladies-the learned professions,' cried Lord Twadell, inflating each word till it swelled out of his crater-like mouth, like one of Giroux's balloons, the learned professions form a distinct class of the community, commanding the respect of enlightened persons of-all-of-—of-of-all-classes of the community.' "Class is a word obliterated from all vocabularies but those of school-ushers,-Scotch gardeners,—and political economists. One hears of the labouring classes," in an emigration pamphlet at Edinburgh, and of “la classe industrielle," in the oration of a libéral in Paris; but in London, the only distinction I ever perceive in its rabble-rout is that which exists between those who buy and those who sell.-Such are the "classes of the community,” in la nation boutiquiére.' "There ought to be a Pict's wall built up to defend us against the incursions of such hordes of barbarians,' said the duchess, with a dry, short, hectic cough, indicating that the armorial honours of the escutcheon on which she prided herself, would very shortly adorn a hatchment "O fie!' said Lady Lavinia, affecting girlish incredu- over the lofty portals of Trimblestown House, and that lity, yet refraining from any vivacious demonstrations, her bony and unhumanized frame was destined without lest she should unsettle the factitious tresses which adorn-delay to darkness and the worm!'-' I would sooner see ed her parchment forehead. One should not even know of such things!' every descendant of my house stretched in their grave, than disgraced by a commercial alliance. It is the pride of my life that not one of my four daughters was allowed to marry lower than an earldom.' "Poor Lady Lavinia uttered a soft sentimental sigh (as bitter as a gust of the east wind) in honour of four contemporary martyrs, whom she had seen dragooned to the altar by her grace's maternal severity. But all four were now released from their connubial thraldom ;-two by death-and two by Doctors' Commons! "One can scarcely wonder that young men of susceptible temperament, let their rank in life be what it may,' said Lord Twadell elegiacally, should forget the claims of ancestry in favour of a creature so divine as yonder white lady in the white robe; yet I am credibly informed that her father is-pardon me, ladies, sq nauseous an allusion—a soapboiler!' "A soapboiler?' cried the duchess, feeling for her salts. "Of the celebrated firm of Waddlestone and Co.' said Lord Twadell, closing his snuff-box with a jerk of disdain. "Waddlestone!' faintly ejaculated her grace. "Waddlestone!' cried Countess Ronthorst. "Waddlestone!' exclaimed Lady Derenzy, as if the word blistered her lips. "Waddlestone!' said Lord Twadell, affirmatively. "Wad-dle-stone!' minced Lady Lavinia. « Waddlestone!' cried Lady Huntingfield, puffing up to the scene. "Waddlestone !' uttered a chorus of abhorrent voices." Those who wish sentiment and delicate embarrassments (there are plenty of both in the book, for Mrs Gore aspires to be the Miss Austin of fashionable life), may seek them in the work itself. Our nerves are at present unequal to the task. MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. THE FLOWER-GATHERER. THE SONG OF THE NIEBELUNGEN. To judge by its language, this poem must be coeval with the best of the Minnesänger. Its theme, however, is of a much earlier date-belonging to the times of Attila the Hun, and the subversion of the Burgundian kingdom. It is an epic-or rather two epics, bearing a relation as intimate as the Iliad and Odyssey. The first relates the loves of Criemhilda and Sivrid; the second the revenge of the lady for her murdered husband. The manners are strongly tinged with the character of the period in which we believe it to have been composedthat at which the allodial chiefs were gradually submitting themselves to the feudal system, and learning to take a pride in their gilded chains. The sentiments and deeds of the actors belong to that earlier period, when part of Europe was yet occupied by Heathen tribes, and while even in the Christianized portion the last dying echoes of its old superstitions were still murmuring. The hero of the first part is Sivrid, son of the King of the Netherlands. The scene of his earliest adventures was the far North, where he overcame the Niebelungen, and mastered their treasure, conquered the dwarfs who inhabited the mountain caverns, and wrested from their monarch his coat of darkness-and finally slew the Lind wurm, and, bathing in its blood, rendered himself invulnerable, except in a small spot between his shoulders, on which a leaf had lain. The poem introduces us to him on the eve of his setting out to woo Criemhilda, the sister of the Burgundian monarch, with whom he had fallen in love from the report of her beauty. He lives long at the court before he obtains a sight of her; and his anxious longing is beautifully described. There is extreme delicacy in the passage which expresses the effect his romantic passion had upon his appearance: Some lovely lady of the court would now and then enquire Who this proud stranger was so fair-so rich in his attire? At once from out a thousand lips the ready words would spring "It is Sivrid the brave and gay, the Netherlands' young king!" In every game of mimic strife a conqueror he moved, And still his thoughts dwelt on the maid, whom all unseen he loved. Her blushing face look'd lovelily from out her gay attire, Whose hues were heighten'd and enrich'd by many a Could one have dream'd of such a speech, beyond his jewel's fire; power 't had been To say he ever in his life aught lovelier had seen. As the bright moon before the stars walks out their placid The bow reflected on a cloud stands forth in bold relief,— chief,So now before her beauteous maids transcendent there she stood, Ennobling by her sight alone, even gallant heroes' mood. As if he were a picture fair, drawn by some master good. And all the crowd who look'd on him must needs confess the truth, She too--the lady of his heart, whom he had never seen They never yet had look'd upon one half so fair a youth. Would praise within her secret bower the youthful stranger's mien. 66 The attendants of the royal host came forth at his com- Though bashful he, and quiet too, and lovely to be mand, And spoke thus to the soldier youth, the flower of Netherland: "The king allows that you, my lord, shall now to court repair, And there to honour you receive his sister's greeting fair." He at these tidings felt throughout his frame one kindly glow, Yet still in anxious mood his thoughts veer'd between joy and woe: "And now he should behold her near-fair Uten's fairer child How would she greet?" His mazed thoughts were wandering and wild. Now, when she saw the high-soul'd youth the silence could not break, Her colour it was kindled up, and thus the maiden spake : "You're welcome, fair Lord Sivrid, a knight both brave and good ;" And higher swell'd his breast at this, and quicker flow'd his blood. He bowed low in his delight; her hand in his she laid; And, full of love and happiness, he walk'd beside the maid; As on they went on the other each let loving glances fall; Though deep their love yet pure their minds-'twas love and honour all. Now whether he in friendly guise did press her hand so fair An ebullition of his love-in sooth I'm not aware; Gunthar ( King of the Burgundians) promises his sister to Sivrid, upon condition that the latter assists him to obtain Brunhilda for his bride-a northern Amazon, who had vowed to wed no man who could not overcome her in warlike games. As Gunthar and his friends approach the castle of this princess, one of her attendants is made to describe them in a style which evinces considerable power of character-painting : seen, Yet were his mood aroused he well might win our stately Yet, 'mid this stern resplendency, but lovelier she shone. There is a noble burst of knightly feeling in the conduct of Hagen and Dankwart, while their master and Brunhilda are preparing for the contest. It may be necessary to premise that she had obliged them to yield up their arms, as a pledge that they would submit to her pleasure, in case she proved victorious: Then out spake Hagen's brother, bold Dankwart, thus he said : "I do repent with all my heart that we this journey made. Who now will call us soldiers, if this must be our doom, "Oh! if my brother Hagen and I our weapons had, Then out spoke Hagen :-" Had we kept our swords so sharp and good, And our stout armour well, against her whole train had we stood : Then spoke one of Brunhilda's train, said, "Lady, well Not long in peril in this land we poorly would abide, I ween, And speedily our strength should tame her overweening pride." The noble maiden heard right well what 'twixt the heroes past, And a disdainful smile at them she o'er her shoulder cast: "Now let the boasters twain," she said, "their armour instant have, And put the sharp swords in their hands, of which they speak so brave." Then, as they gave them back their swords, even as the maid ordain'd, A deeper flush of heartfelt joy brave Dankwart's visage stain'd: "Play on whatever games ye will !" he cried in transport then; "Our master he is safe enough, for our swords are ours again." By the artifice of Sivrid, his friend apparently gains the victory over Brunhilda; she yields to be his bride; they return to Worms, and the two couples are united on the same day. For some time all goes smoothly and lovingly, till Brunhilda takes umbrage at Sivrid and Criemhilda, and Hagen undertakes, with the savage devotion of a feudal retainer, to gratify his mistress's spleen. Under |