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come to nothing, had turned to Sickingen, and sought to obtain from chivalry what had been refused him by the empire. Sickingen, as the leading man among the feudal nobility, had acted a great part in Germany, but ere long the princes besieged him in his castle of Landstein, and those new arms, cannons and cannon-balls, brought tumbling down those ancient battlements that had been used to blows of a different kind. The taking of Landstein proved the final downfall of chivalry, the decisive victory of artillery over lances and bucklers, the triumph of modern times over the Middle Ages. Thus was the last effort of expiring chivalry to be in favor of the Reformation, the first effort of the new system of warfare to be against it. The mail-clad men who fell be neath the unlooked-for shot, and who lay dead or dying amid the ruins of Landstein, were superseded by a different kind of knights.

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THE parrot, which is said to have been

first introduced into Europe by Alexander the Great, is the best known among us of all foreign birds, as it unites the greatest beauty with the greatest docility. But its chief attraction is to be found in its ability to utter articulate sounds-a gift which it possesses in far greater perfection than any other bird. Its voice, also, is more like a man's than any other: the raven is too hoarse and the jay and magpie too shrill to resemble the truth, but the parrot's note is of the true pitch and capable of a variety of modulations. For this it is indebted to the form of its bill, tongue and head: "Its bill, round on the outside and hollow within, has in some degree the сараcity of a mouth and allows the tongue to play freely, and the sound, striking against the circular border of the lower mandible, is there modified as on a row of teeth, while the concavity of the upper mandible reflects it like a palate; hence the animal does not utter a whistling sound, but a full articulation. The tongue, which modulates all sounds, is proportionably larger than in man, and would be more voluble were it not harder than flesh and invested with a strong horny membrane." In addition to the talent of speech, the parrot is endowed with a strong memory, and with more sagacity than is the lot of most other birds.

All Hütten's hopes fell with the fall of Landstein and of chivalry. Over the dead body of Sickingen he bade farewell to the glorious days which his imagination had fondly pictured to him, and, renouncing all trust in man, he now only looked for a little obscurity and repose. He repaired to the small island of Ufnau, on the Lake of Zurich. It was in that peaceful and obscure retreat, after a life of great agitation, that Ulrich 'von Hütten, one of the most remarkable geniuses of the sixteenth century, died unnoticed, about the end of August, 1523. With him chivalry may be said to have breathed its last. He left behind him neither money, books nor furniture, except to speak and the great number of words

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The ease with which this bird is taught

which it is capable of repeating are equally surprising. We are assured by a grave

writer that one of these was taught to repeat a whole sonnet from Petrarch; and "that I may not be wanting in my instance," says a late writer, "I have seen a parrot belonging to a distiller who had suffered pretty largely in his circumstances from an informer who lived opposite him very ridiculously employed. This bird was This bird was taught to pronounce the ninth commandment, Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor,' with a very clear, loud, articulate voice. The bird was generally placed in its cage over against the informer's house, and delighted the whole neighborhood with its persevering exhortations."

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Willoughby tells a story of a parrot which is not so dull as those usually brought up when this bird's facility of talking happens to be the subject. A parrot belonging to King Henry VII., who then resided at Westminster, in his palace by the river Thames, had learned to talk many words from the passengers as they happened to take water. One day, sporting on its perch, the poor bird fell into the water, at the same time crying out as loud as he could, "A boat! Twenty pound for a boat!" A waterman who happened to be near, hearing the cry, made to the place where the parrot was floating, and, taking him up, restored him to the king. As it seems the bird was a favorite, the man insisted that he ought to have a reward rather equal to his service than his trouble, and, as the parrot had cried "Twenty pounds," he said the king was bound in honor to grant it. The king at last agreed to leave it to the parrot's own determination; which the bird hearing, cried out, "Give the knave a groat."

The sagacity which parrots show in a domestic state seems also natural to them in their native residence among the woods. They live together in flocks and mutually assist each other against other animals, either by their courage or their notes of warning. They generally breed in hollow trees, where they make a round hole, and do not line their nest within. If they find any part of a tree beginning to rot from the breaking off of a branch or any such accident, this they take care to scoop, and to make the hole sufficiently wide and convenient; but it sometimes happens that they are content with the hole which a woodpecker has wrought out with greater ease before them, and in this they prepare to hatch and bring up their young. The female lays two or three eggs about the size of those of a pigeon and marked with little specks. The natives are very assiduous in seeking their nests, and usually take them by cutting down the tree. By this means, indeed, the young parrots are liable to be killed; but if one of them survive, it is considered as a sufficient recompense. The old ones are shot with heavy arrows headed with cotton, which knock them down without killing them. The food commonly given to these birds consists of hempseed, nuts, fruits of every kind and bread soaked in wine; they would prefer meat, but that kind of aliment has been found to make them dull and heavy, and to cause their feathers to drop off after some time. It has been observed that they keep their food in a kind of pouch, from which they afterward throw it up in the same manner as ruminating animals.

Translation of JOHN WRIGHT.

THE PUNISHMENT.

FROM THE GREEK DRAMA OF EURIPIDES.

ADMUS. Unmeasurable grief! | Behold this manly branch which sprung from

This is a sight

Not to be borne-this murhands

der by your Committed. To the gods dost thou present A goodly victim, to the festive board

Inviting Thebes and me.

Thy miseries first

I wail, and then mine own.
The royal Bacchus

With justice hath undone us, but severe
In vengeance, as from hence he draws his
birth.

AGAVE. HOW wayward is old. age,

pect sour,

of as

To all around morose! May my son be Successful in the chase and imitate.

thee

Murdered most vilely and most shamefully, To whom all looked with reverence. Thou, my child,

My daughter's son, didst in my house bear

rule

And awe the city; none to my hoar hairs
Dared offer violence, beholding thee:
Thy vengeance had chastised him; from my
house,

Disgraced, an outcast, shall I now be driven-
The mighty Cadmus who the Theban race
Sowed in the ground and reaped the glorious
harvest.

Dearest of men-for thou, though now no

more,

Shalt yet be numbered 'mongst my bestloved sons

His mother's manners 'midst the Theban No more thy hand shall stroke this beard, youth

When ardent he pursues the savage beast!
But he alone dares fight against the god:
He must be warned of this by thee, my
father,

And me, nor pride him in pernicious wisdom. Where is he? To my presence who will call him,

That he may see me happy in my prize?

CAD. He was like you, and reverenced not the god,

no more

Embrace thy mother's father, nor thy voice Address me thus: "Who wrongs thy rev

erend age?

Who dares dishonor thee? Who wrings thy heart

With rude offence? Inform me, and this hand

Shall punish him that injures thee, my father."

But now I am afflicted; wretched, thou.

Who therefore bound us all in the same Thy mother sinks beneath her misery,

chain

Of ruin-him and you to desolate.

The house, and me, who, destitute of sons,

And her unhappy sisters. If there be

A man whose impious pride contemns the

gods,

Let him behold his death and own their

power.

CHORUS. Cadmus, we grieve for thee; thy

daughter's son

Hath his reward-just, though it pains thy heart.

BACCHUS. Oh, father, for my state now.

changed thou seest,

Thou and thy loved Harmonia, who from Mars Descended graced thy bed, though mortal thou,

CAD. Il suits the gods frail man's relentless wrath.

BAC. Long since my father Jove thus graced his son.

AGA. Ah me! it is decreed-unhappy exile.

CAD. Alas, my daughter, in what dread-
ful ills

Are we all plunged, thy sisters, and thyself
Unhappy! I shall bear my
my wretched age
To sojourn with barbarians, fated yet

Shall wear a dragon's savage form. With To lead a mixed barbaric host to Greece;

her

For so the oracle of Jove declares-
Toils after toils revolving shalt thou bear,
Leading barbarians, and with forces vast
Level great towns and many to the ground;
But when the shrine of Phoebus their rude
hands

Shall plunder, intercepting their return,
Misfortune shall await them: thee shall
Mars

Deliver, and Harmonia, from the ruin,
And place you in the regions of the blest.
This, from no mortal father, but from Jove,
Descended, Bacchus tells thee. Had you
known

What prudence is-but you would none of
her—

You might have flourished in a prosperous

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Harmonia, too, my wife, the child of Mars.
Changed to a dragon's savage form, myself
A dragon, to the altars, to the tombs,
Of Greece, a chief with many a ported

spear

Shall I lead back, and never shall my toils
Know respite, never shall I pass the stream
Of Acheron below and there find rest.

AGA. Hence, reft of thee, my father, will
I fly.

CAD. Why, my unhappy daughter, on my
hand

Thus dost thou hang as if the silver swan
Should fly for refuge to the useless drone?
AGA. A wretched outcast, which way shall
I fly?

CAD. I know not, child; small aid thy
father gives.

AGA. Farewell, my royal mansion, and
farewell,

Thou city of my fathers; I will leave thee,
Through grief in exile from my nuptial bed.
CAD. Go now, my child, to Aristæus go.
AGA. I am bereaved of thee, my father.
CAD.
Thine,

My daughter, and thy sisters' woes I wail.

AGA. Severely-most severely-hath the

god

ment.

Brought on thy house this dreadful punish- | His hair, his size, his mouth, his lugs, Showed he was nane o' Scotland's dogs, CAD. Dreadful through you my sufferings; But whalpit some place far abroad Where sailors gang to fish for cod.

every tongue

Shall sound my name with infamy in Thebes.
AGA. Farewell, my father.
CAD.
My unhappy child,
Thou too farewell, if aught can now be well.
AGA. Lead, my attendants, lead me to my
sisters,

His locked, lettered braw brass collar
Showed him the gentleman and scholar,
But, though he was o' high degree,
The fient a pride, na pride had he,
But wad hae spent an hour caressin'

That I may take them with me, of my flight Ev'n wi' a tinkler-gypsey's messin'.
Mournful associates. Thither will I go,
Where no Citharon is polluted, where
These eyes may never see Citharon more,
And where no thyrsus wakes uneasy thought;
To other Bacchic dames I leave these rites.
CHO. With various hand the gods dispense
our fates,

At kirk or market, mill or smiddie,
Nae tawted tyke, though e'er sae duddie,
But he wad stawn't, as glad to see him,
And stroan't on stanes an' hillocks wi' him.

Now showering various blessings which our
hopes

Dared not aspire to, now controlling ills
We deemed inevitable. Thus the god
To these hath given an end exceeding
thought:

Such is the fortune of this awful day.

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The tither was a ploughman's collie,
A rhyming, ranting, raving billie,
Wha for his friend an' comrade had him,
And in his freaks had Luath ca'd him,
After some dog in Highland sang,*
Was made lang syne-Lord knows how
lang.

He was a gash an' faithfu' tyke
As ever lap a sheugh or dyke,
His honest, sonsie, baws'nt face,
Ay gat him friends in ilka place;
His breast was white, his towzie back
Weel clad wi' coat o' glossy black :
His gawcie tail, wi' upward curl,
Hung o'er his hurdies wi' a swurl.

Nae doubt but they were fain o' ither,
An' unco pack an' thick thegither,
Wi' social nose whyles snuffed and snowkit
Whyles mice an' moudieworts they howkit,
Whyles scoured awa' in lang excursion
An' worry'd ither in diversion,

* Cuchullin's dog, in Ossian's Fingal.

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