POMPEII AND HERCULANEUM. 15 there. The calamity was not so sudden, | right stands the house of a musician-on As you pass these silent and desolate streets, you are curious to learn all that is known of each house. You have your book and your map in your hand, and your guide at your side prepared to supply every deficiency by a ready memory, or by a readier invention. We are now in the street which leads from the gate, at which we entered, to the forum. On our left is a shop where drinks were sold; it has a marble counter, from which the passers-by could take their refreshment without going within. I fear they were in the habit of drinking hot punch in those days; for the circular prints of the hot glasses or other vessels are still distinctly visible on the smooth marble. On the The general plan of the houses is that of a quadrangle, built round an open court. Nearly all the rooms open into this court, at the centre of which is a marble fountain or cistern of water, and their only light is derived from the doors. From the small size of the apartments, it is supposed that hospitality could not have been one of the virtues of the Pompeians. They probably, as the inhabitants of those countries still do to a great extent, spent much of their time in the forum, in the public baths, at the theatres, or at the amphitheatre: here they saw everybody, conversed with everybody, and had therefore little motive for social entertainments at their own houses. The baths of Pompeii are both spacious and splendid. They are divided into three separate apartments: the first for servants and for fires, the second for the use of the women, and the third for the men. All these apartments are beautifully adorned with frescoes, and with figures wrought in stucco, both on the ceilings and on the walls. The basin for cold water is twelve feet and ten inches in diameter, and is lined throughout with white marble. bronze window-frame was found in one of these baths, containing four beautiful panes of glass, which prove that this elegant comfort was not unknown to the Pompeians. Nor is this the only evidence of their skill in this kind of manufacture: for A more a large number of vases, bottles, and glas- | always attended by guides authorized by ses of very elegant patterns and beautiful the government. material, have been brought to light. Some idea of the extent and magnificence of these baths may be formed from the fact that one thousand lamps were found here. Imagine these magnificent apart ments with their bronzes, their marble statues, their relievoes, all radiant with the light of a thousand lamps, and thronged with a gay and graceful people, in easy flowing costume, breathing the balmiest air that was ever breathed without the gates of paradise-and you have a picture of one scene in Pompeian life. The fact that most of the inhabitants of this unfortunate city were allowed to make their escape from impending ruin, induces us to sympathize all the more tenderly with those ill-fated victims who perished. I have elsewhere alluded to the skeleton of Diomede, found in his splendid villa without the gate; a still more touching memorial found in the same villa, is believed to be the remains of the mistress of the house and her infant child. wet ashes had enveloped the mother with the child locked in her arms. There was found every feature and limb of both, ex The To explore Herculaneum is a difficult enterprise. It was buried beneath solid lava, or if beneath loose ashes and mud, these materials have consolidated into a gray rock, which makes excavation a slow and costly work. Nevertheless, a magnificent theatre, two temples, a portico, and several private houses, were excavated, but all except the theatre have been filled up, and the work is not now in progress. We descended into the theatre, and wandered through its dark spacious caverns formed by excavation, for it was as completely filled with solid rock as a mould with molten lead. Many interesting and beautiful works of art were found here. The depth of our descent was between seventy and eighty feet below the surface of the rock. The modern town of Portici is built over the buried city; and while exploring the theatre, we could hear carriages rumbling along the street over our heads. quisitely rounded. Even the linen which THE BURROWING-OWL AND PRAIRIE had enveloped her young and beautiful form was found adhering to the mould. But nothing of that fair form remained except the skeleton mother clasping her skeleton child-a gold chain about her neck, and gold rings on her bony fingers! In the prison were found two skeletons with their bones still held by the shackles either of justice or tyranny! In a niche nearer the forum were found the remains of a soldier, his skeleton hand still grasping a lance! DOG. ENERABLE ruins crumbling under the influence of time and vicissitudes of season are habitually associated with our recollections of the owl; or he is considered as the tenant of sombre forests, whose nocturnal gloom is rendered deeper and more awful by the harsh dissonance of his voice. In poetry he has long been regarded as the appropriate concomitant of darkness and horror. But we are now to make the reader acquainted with an owl to which none of these associations can belong; a bird that, so far from seeking refuge in the ruined habitations of man, fixes its residence within the earth; and instead of concealing itself in solitary recesses of the forest, delights to dwell on Accidentally discovered in 1726, in digging a I could not content myself with a single visit, but returned to spend a second day among these unique and deeply interesting ruins The excavations were then going forward, and I had the pleasure of seeing the walls of a house laid bare, which had been hid from the light of day for eighteen hundred years. The frescoes on these walls were as bright as if the pencil had traced them but yesterday! The excavations are conducted by the government, and the premises are guarded night and day against depredations. Visiters are well. open plains, in company with animals remarkable for their social disposition, neat ness, and order. Instead of sailing heavily forth in the obscurity of the evening or morning twilight, and then retreating to mope away the intervening hours, our owl enjoys the broadest glare of the noontide sun, and flying rapidly along, searches for food or pleasure during the cheerful light of day. The burrowing-owl resides exclusively in the villages of the marmot or prairiedog, whose excavations are so commodious as to render it unnecessary that our bird should dig for himself, as he is said to do in other parts of the world, where no burrowing animals exist. These villages are very numerous, and variable in their extent, sometimes covering only a few acres, and at others spreading over the surface of the country for miles together. They are composed of slightly-elevated mounds, having the form of a truncated cone, about two feet in width at base, and seldom rising as high as eighteen inches above the surface of the soil. The entrance is placed either at the top or on the side, and the whole mound is beaten down externally, especially at the summit, resembling a much-used footpath. From the entrance the passage into the mound descends vertically for one or two feet, and is thence continued obliquely downward, until it terminates in an apartment, within which the industrious marmot constructs, on the approach of the cold season, the comfortable cell for his winter's sleep. This cell, which is composed of fine dry grass, is globular in form, with an opening at top capable of admitting the finger; and the whole is so firmly compacted, that it might, without injury, be rolled over the floor. It is delightful, during fine weather, to see these lively little creatures sporting about the entrance of their burrows, which are always kept in the neatest repair, and are often inhabited by several individuals. When alarmed, they immediately take refuge in their subterranean chambers; or, if the dreaded danger be not immediately impending, they stand near the brink of the entrance, bravely barking and flourishing their tails, or else sit erect to reconnoitre the movements of the enemy. In all the prairie-dog villages the burrowing-owl is seen moving briskly about, or else in small flocks scattered among the mounds, and at a distance it may be mistaken for the marmot itself when sitting erect. They manifest but little timidity, and allow themselves to be approached sufficiently close for shooting;-but if alarmed, some or all of them soar away and settle down again at a short distance; if further disturbed, their flight is continued until they are no longer in view, or they descend into their dwellings, whence they are difficult to dislodge. The burrows into which these owls have been seen to descend, on the plains of the river Platte, where they are most numerous, were evidently excavated by the marmot, whence it has been inferred that they were either common, though unfriendly residents of the same habitation, or that our owl was the sole occupant of a burrow acquired by the right of conquest. The evidence of this was clearly presented by the ruinous condition of the burrows tenanted by the owl, which were frequently caved in, and their sides channelled by the rains, while the neat and well-preserved mansion of the marmot showed the active care of a skilful and industrious owner. We have no evidence that the owl and marmot habitually resort to one burrow; yet we are assured that a common danger often drives them into the same excavation, where lizards and rattlesnakes also enter for concealment and safety. The owl digs itself a burrow two feet in depth, at the bottom of which its eggs are deposited on a bed of moss, herb-stalks, and dried roots. The note of our bird is strikingly similar to the cry of the marmot, which sounds like cheh, cheh, pronounced several times in rapid succession; and were it not that the burrowing-owls of the West Indieswhere no marmots exist-utter the same sound, it might be inferred that the marmot was the unintentional tutor to the young owl: this cry is only uttered as the bird begins its flight. The food of the bird we are describing appears to consist entirely of insects, as, on examination of its stomach, nothing but parts of their hard wing-cases were found. "CROSS FOLKS." T is not an uncommon thing to have it whispered through this or that neighborhood, that such a man is "cross in his family." No one knows just how it is exactly. Gentlemanly in his address, polished in manners, constitutionally full of good feelings, and from principle benevolent, yet he is "cross." Some of his friends say he is, his servants will swear to it, something of an irritable temperament shows itself now and then elsewhere, and the man is set down" cross." We have sometimes, in moments when we had nothing else to do, speculated a little upon this matter; and we have asked ourselves whether it were not possible, if the thing were looked to, to show how it might be, that the poor man is suffering, if not altogether unjustly, yet where there are very great palliatives for his conduct. We have said to ourselves, "What if it should appear, on examination, that the man is naturally one of the kindest and most generous men in the world; that he bore this character in boyhood, through youth, and in incipient manhood; that he had the quickest sensibility, a mind ever open to see beauty everywhere about him, and a heart to feel it-and he walks amid the beautiful things of the earth one of those who find even amid inanimate creation objects of truth and wonder, and hear lessons of purity and peace; but for the last few years of his life, subtle disease has been preying upon and undermining a naturally sturdy constitution, playing the deuce" with that most complicated of all things, the nervous system, and through that nervous system thus preying upon that naturally most delicate mind and heart, preparing him exactly to feel most, and in a painful way, all the little annoyances of daily life. And now suppose in addition to all this, he is one still confined to business; and to make the case still more striking, suppose his occupation a daily tax on the brain, either in a profession, or, what is perhaps worse, in the uncomfort 19 able elevation of a daily caterer for other men's noddles, in the shape of author or editor, and where, if the thing exists anywhere, he must not be disturbed by the ten thousand nettles that an all-wise Providence has scattered along the little bypaths of private life; and for whom things must be arranged at home, if they must for any one, in such a way as that the mind shall be kept equable and the heart undisturbed. But now let us suppose that from some cause or other-we will not say whatthere is that in his family exactly calculated to nettle and disturb this same nervous and diseased mind. Suppose him poor, and yet his expense is large independent in feeling, but dependent by necessity; fond of order in the household, but yet has a sick companion; perfect in heart and spirit, but yet physically incapable of securing this; overwhelmed with visiters, whose tastes and habits are no more like his than chalk to Dutch cheese, or visited by poor relations, who, true to the nature of the case, must have all notice, and thank you for nothing: now suppose all this, or forty other things we might easily sum up if we had time, were by some combination to meet in the circumstances of this same individual-the very things to make him cross-and where is the man, woman, or child, who would not look with a little more compassion on this "cross man in his family," or perhaps judge with a little softer judgment on his weakness and deficiencies? Now let it not be supposed we apologize for sin in any shape, or for any of the little deformities of social life. All wrong is blameable. Yet is there not that, often out of the way of the world's eyes, in the conditions of men, which brings down our harsh judgments on them like thunderbolts, when they ought rather to fall in the shape of the dews of heavenly forgiveness-and which would, if we look for it, rather inspire with feelings of benevolence, yes, even love, where possibly we have only indulged in those of distrust and resentment? It will not hurt us, just to think of this: and as we are among those who are trying to think for the good as well as amusement of our readers, we have picked up these few truths passing along this |