man stepped forward and addressed me with a very excited demeanor, "Excuse me, sir; I have but just come, and am unacquainted with the circumstances. You are a medical man, I see; I am connected with press, sir. What is the matter, sir? What has happened? Who is it, sir? Is it a lady or a gentleman, and are they dead or only insensible?"

the

“He is a gentleman, and at present speechless," returned I, hurriedly as I accompanied the sufferer in question into the house.

Oh, the relief of mind and body when I saw that Jerusalem pony deposited safely in our back-green! the gratitude with which I overwhelmed those guardians of public safety! the recklessness of expense with which I rewarded them!

I woke Leonora, to recount to her all that I had done, and had some difficulty to prevent her rushing to the window to look at the new arrival.

"I don't even know what a Jerusalem pony is," urged she, "I shall be lying awake and trying to picture what unusual-"

At this juncture, her doubts were set at rest for ever by the most tremendous braying that ever issued from the mouth of jackass since the days of Balaam; it was exactly beneath our bedroom window, and sounded like a brass band composed of ophicleides out of repair. "Why, it's only a dreadful donkey, Alfred," cried Leonora, with just indignation.

"It's forty donkeys," cried I, penitently, and stopping my ears. Never, indeed, shall I forget that noise, which seems even now to be ringing through the chambers of memory.

-We retired to rest, however, that is to say, we lay down and listened. Sometimes we would nourish a faint hope that all was over, that the Jerusalem pony would himself require the blessings of sleep, and become quiet; and sometimes the real horrors of our situation could not be dispelled by any such baseless fancy.

I think the creature must have been composing a coronach or lament for his absent mother, or other relations; for after very short pauses, such as might have been given by any donkey to composition, he would burst forth with a torrent of discordant wailing, about fourteen lines in length-as far as we could judge-and ending in an Alexandrine. It was horrible from the first and rapidly grew to be unbearable. At 2.30 A. M. I put on my dressing-gown and slippers, and taking down the rope from one of the window curtains, I sallied forth into the back-green. Sleep had of course been banished from every other inhabitant of Paradise Row, as well as ourselves; a score of human

heads regarded me from far and near, from first flat to attic, with interest and satisfaction. They believed, in their foolish and revengeful hearts, I knew, that I was about to hang the Jerusalem pony. I was not going to do any thing of the kind.

I approached the animal, uttering sounds such as, in the mouths of his late attendants, I had observed to give him pleasure; but I might just as well have read aloud "the act for the prevention of cruelty to animals." He turned away, he fled; be even lifted up his heel against me. Disgusted but not dispirited by this conduct, I pursued the flying beast with persevering vigor, despite the fluttering of my lengthy garment, and the increased coolness of my unprotected legs. I caught him; I tied up his jaws-securely, as I thought-with the curtainrope; and retired amid murmurs of applause to my apartment, leaving him speechless and discomfited.

My triumph, however, was short-lived. I had but just time to receive the congratulations of Leonora on my success, when our ears were assailed with sounds, compared with which, all that had gone before had been sweetest music. The wretched creature had apparently recovered from its first surprise, and finding that, notwithstanding my curtain-rope, it still had the use of its voice, seemed determined to make up for lost time. Why don't you give him chloroform!" remarked Leonora, sarcastically, and deserting me in the hou, of need. "You're so fond of giving it to your patients."

66

I groaned, feeling that retribution had overtaken me; but rallied as I reflected on the soothing influence of chloroform, and thought that perhaps even donkeys might be quiet under its influence; so I answered cheerfully-"Thank you, my dear, I think I shall," and in company with a bottle of chloroform and a large towel, again proceeded to the back-green, and again became the center of interest to the inhabitants of Paradise Row. Whether the creature supposed I was about to untie his jaws, or whether he voluntarily offered himself as an example of the power of science, I can not tell; yet he stood perfectly still, while I enveloped his head in the towel, and poured the chloroform over the region of his nose and month, then indeed he seemed to realize his situation, and struggled for freedom, but it was too late. Stimulated by the fact that the eyes of Paradise Row were upon me, and fearing the taunts of the not unnaturally indignant Leonora, I held manfully on, and soon had the pleasure of seeing the disturber of my peace, my Jerusalem pony, sleeping peacefully at my feet.

The next day I had him conveyed back to his former proprietor, to whom I presented him with the assurance that if ever he wished

for a certificate, as to the strength of the animal's lungs, I should be most happy to furnish one.

(From the "Newark Literary Club.")

LINES

To always speak my thoughts in rhyme,
As people did in olden time,

Would be a pleasure;

But I observe in every line,

I'm sure it is no fault of mine,

I miss the measure.

The printer pays for some folks' thoughts;
I wish I knew where they were bought,
I'd sell them mine, aye quickly.
Some write words that they are taught,
Some write sentences for naught;—
That to the pocket 's sickly.

I'd charge a cent for every line,
And then I'd think, for work of mine,

That scarce would be sufficient.

But may be now is not the time
For one like me to try to shine-
They'd say I was deficient.

So I'll withdraw and leave the field,
And all the profits it may yield,

To some one more ambitious.

I'll sing of knights with sword and shield,

And ladies bright whose wounds have healed,
Till times be more propitious.

HISTORY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

NINETEEN hundred years ago, Cæsar turned the prows of his war vessels toward the white cliffs of England, for purposes of conquest. He had just completed the subjugation of Gaul, and now cast longing eyes toward the islands which lay to the northward. He had heard of their magnitude and resources; had been visited by their princes, and given audience to their embassies. His past successes made him more eager to secure further triumphs, and, deeming them worthy even of his all-conquering power, he set sail, and landed his victorious legions on the shores of the land which has given birth to the English tongue. He found, in Britain, a people divided into many clans, but all speak

ing the same language or dialect, so allied as indubitably to proclaim their common descent. He was, probably, not entirely ignorant of it, as it was akin to one which he had heard spoken by many tribes dwelling in Gaul. The intrusion, before his time, of so many Germans into Gaul, had somewhat corrupted the tongues of its primeval inhabitants, still there must have been existing enough of the old speech for Cæsar to recognize its cognate even in a foreign land.

That the inhabitants of Britain, at the time of Cæsar's invasion, were Keltic, can hardly admit of a doubt. It is, however, disputed, but upon grounds which seem hardly worth noticing. Independent of the argument based upon the affinities of language, there is another proof of the Keltic origin of the Britons of Cæsar's time, which seems unanswerable. The religion of the Germanic race was one which they never relinquished until they submitted to the mild rule of Christianity. That religion was what may be called Odinism, and peculiarly adapted to the free habits of action and thought of that independent people. It was distinctive in its characteristics, and could not be confounded with any other. Cæsar found no such religion in Britain. It never had any foothold there, until long after, when the Saxons introduced it. When Cæsar went to Britain, the principal faith there, indeed the only one, was Druidism. This form of belief was peculiar to the Keltic races; it prevailed in all its strength and all over the land, at least in Great Britain. The Druids were the law-givers as well as the priests of the people, and exercised a transcendent influence in all matters over the whole population.

Cæsar has one or two loose remarks, in his Commentaries, which seem to militate against the idea that the Britons of his time were Keltic. But, giving them the full force desired by those who argue for a Teutonic origin, they are of such a character as not to be worthy of entire confidence, as, independent of their indefiniteness, they were written under circumstances which detract much from their reliability. He needed an excuse for an apparently unprovoked attack upon a peaceable people, who, so far as we can judge, at this late day, had given no just cause for his invasion. When, then, he speaks of the relationship between the Britons and the Belgæ, and adds that he invaded Britain because the Britons had aided his late antagonists, it must be borne in mind that he was on his defense, and apologizing. Besides, it is not to be admitted that the Belge were Teutonic; that is more than doubtful. Still there had, undoubtedly, been an infusion of Germanic blood in the lower part of the Island. The Teutonic tribes, who dwelt on the southern shores of the North Sea, lived in

cold, dark, boggy seats, and were a roving, restless race. It can hardly be imagined that the narrow water which flowed between them and the Island could have deterred these wandering people from sometimes pushing their barks across it to seek fairer, better homes in the land whose white shores seem to beckon them from their own inhospitable dwelling places. The Germanic element, received in this manner, was so insignificant that it had no appreciable effect on the language of the natives.

The still more vexed question, as to the origin of the inhabitants of Scotland, or North Britain, is not germane to the present purpose. The English language, if affected at all by any spoken in the land at the time of Cæsar's invasion, must have received an impress from the speech used in the southern part of the Island. A step still further backward is necessary. There was, probably, other than Germanic and Keltic blood in the veins of the race of men inhabiting Britain in the time of Cæsar. That Island had been known to the ancients as far back as 1000 B. C. The Phoenicians, the oldest maritime people, historically known, and their direct descendants, the Carthaginians, had long driven an extensive and lucrative trade there, obtaining tin, an article which then could only be found in the East, at Banca, and in the Malayan peninsula. This metal, as it entered largely into the alloy of bronze, so much used by the natives who live around the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, then the center of civilization, was much sought after. The trade in it was of such importance that Strabo relates that a Carthaginian merchant, on his voyage to Britain, perceiving himself to be followed by a Roman rival, who hoped by pursuing the same course to discover the advantageous mart, drove his ship on the shoals, thus destroying his own and the Roman's vessel, but preserving for his nation the important secret. His grateful countrymen rewarded his self-sacrificing patriotism by making good to him his entire loss, on his return.

The name Cassiterides, or Tin Islands, had been given by these traders to a locality which it seems now difficult to place, but which undoubtedly was the modern Cornwall, where tin for many centuries has been found, and with which the Scilly Islands are more or less confounded. Himilco, a Carthaginian writer and discoverer, has left some fragmentary notices of a voyage he made to Britain, and a slight description of an island in the channel, or of a promontory on the main island. It is impossible to give his date with any accuracy, but it was at least 400 B. C. Herodotus, born 484 B. c., makes unmistakable Aristotle, 300 B. C., speaks of the British Isles

mention of Britain.