still. With the exception of the snipe, there is no bird so universally dispersed over the whole surface of the globe, inhabiting every zone, the hot, the temperate, the severe; in all of which he is serviceable to mankind, by devouring and removing noxious substances. In Eng land they are sparingly seen, except during the lambing season; one pair inhabiting a certain district, and driving all others from its vicinity. But in some warm climates, where animal matter is often plentiful, and rapidly acquires a state of putrescence, even in Greenland and Iceland, where refuse of fish abounds, the raven is much more commonly to be found. Like all other carnivorous birds, they frequently mount high in the air, and cool their blood in a more temperate region. They are remarkably strong upon the wing, and we see them at times passing over our heads at a considerable elevation, and pursuing their journey with such strength and power, as enables them to make a greater progress in their flight than even wild fowl. Their objects in these hasty transits are by no means obvious; should they be hastening to their prey, be it from acuteness of discernment, a sense of smelling, or any other faculty, it exceeds our comprehension. That birds of prey are remarkably gifted with olfactory powers we have repeated conviction; but we cannot comprehend the probability of a creature's possessing a sensibility so acute, as to receive intimation of a substance, and be drawn by it from the extremity of one county to that of another. All these circumstances, its ancient note, the obscure knowledge we possess of its powers and motives of action, renders the raven a bird of some interest, and entitles it to our notice. Ancient writers upon natural history accuse this bird of severity and unnatural feelings towards its offpring. Tusser, in his March Husbandry, says,

'Kill crow, pie, and cadow, rook, buzzard, and

raven,

Or else go desire them to seek a new haven ;' but in answer to such directions, and the practice of many farmers at the present day, it may be observed, that in our moist climate, which naturally gencrates insects, if it were not for birds, and even some of those which are proscribed by vulgar prejudice, the fruits of the earth would be almost wholly destroyed. No doubt some species of the feathered tribes may become too numerous, if protected; but it is only during seed-time and harvest that birds do any injury, while their important services are continued the year round. Were parishes to pay for the destruction of vi

pers and of rats, it certainly would be more sensible and beneficial than setting a price on the heads of sparrows. As for rooks, they are of the first utility to the farmer; and even the crow and cadow, or jack-daw, are not destitute of valuable qualities, which may indeed be affirmed of the predaceous race, in general the least favoured of any.

"The brimstone-coloured butterfly, (Gonepteryx rhamni,) which lives throughout the winter, is usually seen in March. It is found in the neighbourhood of woods, on fine and warm days, enjoying the beams of the noonday sun. Some of our most beautifully coloured butterflies belonging to the genus Vanessa, as V. Atalanta, Io, Polychloros, and Urtica, are seen in this month; and the Antiope, or Camberwell beauty, has once been captured at this season."

We shall conclude our notices of this month with the following beautiful lines, written by Mrs. Hemans for the New Monthly Magazine, March, 1826 :—

THE BIRDS OF PASSAGE.

BIRDS, joyous birds of the wandering wing! Whence is it ye come with the flowers of Spring? "We come from the shores of the green old

Nile,

From the land where the roses of Sharon smile, From the palms that wave through the Indian sky,

From the myrrh-trees of glowing Araby.

"We have swept o'er cities, in song renown’d—
Silent they lie, with the deserts round!
We have cross'd proud rivers, whose tide hath
roll'd

All dark with the warrior-blood of old;
And each worn wing hath regain'd its home,
Under peasant's roof-tree, or monarch's dome.”

And what have ye found in the monarch's dome,
Since last ye traversed the blue sea's foam?

"We have found a change, we have found a

pall,

And a gloom o'ershadowing the banquet's hall,
And a mark on the floor, as of life-drops spilt-
Naught looks the same, save the nest we built!"
Oh! joyous birds, it hath still been so !
Through the halls of kings doth the tempest go!
But the huts of the hamlet lie still and deep,
And the hills o'er their quiet a vigil keep.
Say, what have ye found in the peasant's cot,
Since last ye parted from that sweet spot ?

"A change we have found there, and many change!

Faces and footsteps and all things strange !
Gone are the heads of the silverv hair,

And the young that were have a brow of care, And the place is hush'd where the children play'd

Naught looks the same, save the nest we made !»
Sad is your tale of the beautiful earth,
Birds that o'ersweep it in power and mirth!

Yet, through the wastes of the trackless air,
Ye have a guide, and shall we despair?
Ye over desert and deep have pass'd-
So shall we reach our bright home at last!

The Sketch-Book.

No. XXXI.

TELLING STORIES. IT is a pleasant thing to hear a good story; but it is much pleasanter to hear a story well told. Livy and Tacitus have interested us in the history of Rome; Thucydides and Herodotus have made Grecian history a delightful study; and, for one book that is read, for the sake of its subject, ten are read for the sake of their authors. Style is the gilding that makes half the world swallow the pill of knowledge.

The Arabs and Turks are story-loving nations; and if we may judge from the popularity of novels, in our own country, we are not much behind them in that passion; but we have not the amusement, in which they so much delight, of hearing extempore novels and romances, whose interest is increased by the delightful and teazing suspense of the narrator's leaving off in the midst, or when the curiosity is excited to the highest pitch, and promising to renew the tale next day :-just as the stories were divided, in the Lady's Magazine, about thirty years ago.

Yet we love the company of those who have the conversational art of telling a good story, or, more properly speaking, telling a story well. How few have this envied talent. Some narrators have one mode of spoiling a story, and some have another.

It is very bad policy to begin a laughable story with laughing; it may be a kind of characteristic overture, but it always spoils the effect. Horace has somewhere said something about exciting tears by tears. "Si vis me flere, &c." but this same principle is not applicable to laughing.

The circumstantial story-teller dilutes his entertainment in a deluge of words, leads you round and round, goes back again to correct errors, and makes a kind of minuet dance of his narrative, except that there is nothing graceful in it. He delights in digressions and leaves nothing unexplained or unauthenticated. Take a specimen.

Last Wednesday three weeks, when I was on a visit to stop, did I say three weeks? Yes, no, no, it must have been that-well, but that don't signify. As I was saying-I was on a visit

taining man he is-it seems but the other day we were at school together, at old ah, those were happy days? well while I was at his house, who should come in but young his nephew-he

of

that married Miss in Norfolk-you must remember her very well -she was at school at- at-dear me what's the name of the place?

And so on I might fill half a dozen numbers of the MIRROR, if I were to give you one of these circumstantial digressional narratives at full length.

Sometimes, again, we are entertained with a story that was so entertaining :only somehow or other, the best part of it has been forgotten. Then we are told, that there was something more, but the narrator does not exactly recollect; and perhaps memory has no assistance from invention and then he laughs very heartily at what he laughed at before, and he expects your imagination to supply what his recollection had lost.

Worse, still, are they who, by a very regular, sober, and promising beginning, promise something worth hearing, and at last fly off in a tangent, saying, I have forgotten the rest. This is inflicting a double injury; it is a cruel disappointment of expectation, and a most barbarous loss of time.-Aut perfice aut nunquam tenta.

Here,"

Have any of our readers ever been amused with two persons telling, or attempting to tell, the same story, both in a breath? One stops; and the other stops -"Well, if you can tell the story better, tell it." "Oh, no! I know nothing about it, you had better tell it yourself." So, after a decent time spent in coquetting about it, one begins, and goes on a little way, and but a little. says the other, "I am sure that's wrong." Then the poor hearer must listen to a long, and generally bitter discussion of some point of chronology, or some diversity of expression, or some succession of events, which, in nine cases out of ten have little or nothing to do with the story. There is one advantage in this; for, if the matter is to be kept secret, it is pretty safe when communicated in this duet style; as it is no easy matter to remember what cannot be understood.

WONDERFUL MEMORY.

(For the Mirror. )

THOMAS FULLER, author of the Forthies of England, had a very remarkable memory, he would repeat five hundred

nely hour. is sleeping,

forth her charms; r's keepinghis arms.

e bower

any a mile; nted hour, with a smile.

I've left

ndid halls; r bereftthat calls.

H. K.

iography.

LI.

CHINER.

man whom, perhaps, ividual in our popu■erally known, died onday, February 26, after having returned ur, to Warren street, y at Mr. Braham's. Ommonly good spirits n, and enjoyed the our than his usually allowed. In general id in his manner, on g other pleasures, the , and the merriment hews' rehearsing some tertainments, seemed the worthy doctor, orgot his reserve, and, the party with some sons for inventing odd nem odd names. For, tely what is called a pearance, his dress, son, were all peculiar must be said, at the dness of heart, bene.

singularity. His subjects have been of the most various kinds;-his Practicali Observations and other works on Telescopes Cooks' Oracle-Pleasure of Making a Will-Housekeeper's Economy&c. &c., are books familiar to the reader; and at this period there are nearly ready for publication, the Traveller's Oracle, and the Horse and Carriage-Keeper's Oracle, both (for we have seen parts of them) equal to their predecessors for mixed utility and whimsicality. To conclude this brief notice, we may express a wish, which we are sure will be responded to by every person of the very numerous body in whose society the individual we have just lost passed his days; that whenever we meet with an eccentric man, he may add to his eccentricities the harm. lessness, kindliness, and good qualities of Doctor William Kitchiner.

Since we wrote the foregoing, we have been favoured with the following additions by an intimate of ours and of the deceased :

In this age, when the customs of society so generally demand prescribed ceremonies and forms in visiting, ill suited to men of studious habits, the loss of such a man will be widely felt. Who, after the mental toils of the day, can endure to dress at five, to go out at six, to waste, perhaps, an hour in the drawing room, till all the guests arrive; then, arm in arm, to esquire some stranger partner down a chilly staircase to a freezing parlour, to partake of a sumptuous,

cold-hot dinner?

These matters were better intended at the board of my late friend. His welcome was frank and sincere, his fare was good, his dishes were cooked according to his own maxims--they were served orderly,

According to his own statement he was only

wine, liqueurs, a variety of excellent ales and other choice stores, from his well stocked cellar, and served to relish a hour's entertaining chat. Such were th orderly habits prevailing at these evenir parties, that some considerate guest woul observe, 'tis on the stroke of eleven ; when hats, umbrellas, &c. being brough in, the doctor attending them to the stree door, first looking at the stars, with a cor dial shake of the hand, and a "heart good night," his company departed.

The last time his doors were opened t his guests, happened on Tuesday, th 20th of February. He, latterly, was i the habit of inviting a few friends to din on the evening of his conversazione. Con formably to this arrangement, the dinne was announced at five minutes after five As the first three that were bidden entere his drawing-room, he received them seated at his grand piano-forte, an struck up, "See the conquering her comes!" accompanying the air, b placing his feet on the pedals, with peal on the kettle-drums beneath th instrument.

Your vrais bons vivans would not, per haps, envy the guests, who on these o casions were constrained to quit the bo tle at seven :-but, without detailing th concluding scene which ended this plea sant meeting, it is enough to say, the with it the hospitable door was closed fo ever on Dr. Kitchiner's friendly conve saziones. Literary Gazette.

WHEN Frederick of Prussia proclaime his new code of laws, it rendered lawye unnecessary, and a very large body them signed a petition to his majesty praying his relief, and asking what the were to do? Under these circumstance the king wrote this laconic answer :"Such as are tall enough may enlist f