even the sanctuary of the "ever-living | flags, drums, and kettle-drums; but how God" proved of no avail as a place of refuge. The wretched senator is said to have held fast to the corner of the altar until it broke, and was then hewn in twelve pieces by his enemy. The stone, which is here cut in twelve pieces, is in commemoration of this event. From the spot where was enacted this horrible tragedy I turned to the Gustavian mausoleum. There seems something almost prophetic in the fact that Gustavus Adolphus ordered the construction of this burial-place just before his departure to "the Thirty Years' War." The restingplace of this great man is a spot of especial interest to the Protestant world. In death he was not only lamented by his own people, but by others in whose service he had drawn his sword and extended his protecting arm to secure the rights and privileges of the Protestant faith. An inscription upon his tomb reads thus: "On difficult enterprises he entered; piety he loved, the enemy he beat down, the kingdom he enlarged, the Swedes he exalted, the oppressed he delivered, and in death he triumphed." A simple and truthful acknowledgment of the services which the great Adolphus has rendered, not only to his country, but to mankind. Over his tomb also are suspended many trophies of war; here are different are the impressions which these trophies awaken from those which surround the remains of the fiery northern warrior. The one fought alone to gratify his own warlike feelings and his selfish ambition, the other to restore liberty to the oppressed and "freedom to worship God." Well may Sweden be proud of such a name among her list of heroes. In this church are suspended numerous shields of the deceased knights of the Seraphimer Order. Among others, I observed in particular that of Napoleon, "Herr Napoleon Bonaparte," says the Swedish guide-book. Before leaving the church I descended to the crypt where repose the remains of the deceased members of the present dynasty. There was a something which struck me as rather parvenu and in bad taste in the scarlet velvet and gilt which covered the coffins. They were overladen with ornaments. There was withal a something too theatrical, too decidedly French in the taste here displayed. On my way to the church I had noticed a house, about the door of which were sprinkled fresh twigs of the juniper. This, as I had before learned, betokened a death in the house, and as I returned to my hotel they were bearing the body of the deceased to burial. It is a singular cus tom, and appears quite general in the North, that of scattering fresh twigs of evergreen about the house from whence a funeral is to take place. And in some places it is also the custom to scatter them in the street about the residences of all the particular friends of the deceased. THE OPERA-HOUSE Of Stockholm possesses a peculiar interest as the scene of Jenny Lind's early triumphs. I endeavored to imagine what might have been the sensation produced in former times when the curtain was raised, and disclosed the winning and graceful figure of the youthful Nightingale." is far from contemptible in the style of its decorations. Directly over the stage are two cherubs supporting a shield surmounted by a crown; on the shield is the letter G inclosing the figures III. My mind naturally turned back to the time of the erection of this house, and to the then reigning sovereign, Gustavus III. There was a something in this shield and its initial letter which impressed me deeply. I thought of the words which were written upon the wall amid the gayeties of Belshazzar's feast. I thought how little this sovereign could have imagined, in directing the construction of this gay place of amusement, that it would prove the scene of his death. Yet upon this very stage, The house is very respectable in size, and amid the festive sound of music, and within the enchanted circle of the dance, | Sweden, and, shortly after, the expulsion the gay and brilliant Gustavus III. perished by the hand of an assassin. It seems that, amid the fearful uproar excited by the storm of the French Revolution, but little notice was taken of the assassination of this king. The eyes of all the world were attracted at this time to "the streams of blood and the hurricane of revolution" which passed over devoted France. Sweden meantime occupied a geographical position so removed from the rest of continental Europe, and with a population and influence so inconsiderable, that her intestine struggles were scarcely known to the rest of the world. The assassination, therefore, of a king in of the entire line of the royal family from the country, seem to have produced little excitement in the rest of Europe; and that same family was descended in a direct line from Gustavus Wasa, and had numbered Gustavus Adolphus among its representatives. At the same time, the change of the dynasty in France from the legitimate successor of Louis XVI. was an event of world-wide notoriety, and even at this day the question, "Have we a Bourbon among us," has caused an excitement throughout the world. There are still living in obscurity in Germany the lineal descendants of the Wasa family of Sweden. the very numerous family of the Manakins, of which naturalists have described at least forty varieties. They are most numerous in South America, and are found plentifully along the rivers of Surinam, Cayenne, and Guiana. Varieties are also found in the islands of the East, in Java and in Sumatra. Our engraving (figure 21) is the most beautiful of the species, and gives a fair idea of the whole tribe. It is the Rock Manakin, a shy and solitary bird, preferring silent and secluded glens and rocky ravines to all other spots; and there it seems to pass an undisturbed existence. Its nest is simply a few dry sticks, and the eggs, generally but two, are white, and the size of those of a pigeon. Some varieties of the Manakin are easily tamed, and their chirping, for it cannot be called singing, is very pleasant. The Bohemian War-Wing is an exceedingly graceful bird, and remarkable for the brilliancy of its plumage. The head and upper parts are brown, and the feathers of the head form a pointed cres and the tail black, tipped with yellow. It is a native of Asia, but migrates frequently into all parts of Europe, and has been found, according to Dr. Richardson, in America near the sources of the Elk River and in the neighborhood of Great Bear Lake, where it appears in flocks about the close of May, when the spring thaw has exposed the berries of the alpine arbutus and other plants which have been frozen in during the winter. Dr. Richardson also mentions that he saw a large flock of at least three or four hundred on the banks of the Saskarchewan in May, 1827. They alighted in a grove of poplars, settling on one or two trees, and making a loud twittering noise. They stayed only about an hour in the morning, and were too shy to allow him to approach within gunshot. Our own common Blue-Bird is very similar, in his general characteristics, to the English robin redbreast, and but for his color would with difficulty be distin guished from him. His disposition is equally mild and peaceful, and, like the robin, he is a well-known and universal favorite. His song is cheerful, and he is a great destroyer of insects. "I have often regretted," says Wilson," that no pastoral muse has yet arisen in this Western world to do justice to his name, and endear him to us still more by the tenderness of verse, as has been done to his representative in Britain, the robin redbreast. A small acknowledgment of this kind I have to offer, which the reader, I hope, will excuse as a tribute to rural innocence: "When winter's cold tempests and snows are no more, Green meadows and brown furrow'd fields reappearing, The fishermen hauling their shad to the shore, And cloud-cleaving geese to the lakes are asteering: When first the lone butterfly flits on the wing, When red glow the maples, so fresh and so pleasing, O then comes the blue-bird, the herald of spring! And hails with his warblings the charms of the season. "Then loud piping frogs make the marshes to ring; Then warm glows the sunshine, and fine is the weather; The blue woodland flowers just beginning to And spice-wood and sassafras budding together: The blue-bird will chant from his box such "He flits through the orchard, he visits each tree, The red-flowering peach, the apple's sweet blos soms: He snaps up destroyers wherever they be, And seizes the caitiffs that lurk in their bosoms; He drags the vile grub from the corn it de vours, The worms from the webs where they riot and welter; His songs and his services freely are ours, And all that he asks is-in summer a shelter. "The plowman is pleased when he gleans in his train, Now searching the furrows-now mounting to cheer him ; Our next specimen (figure 22) is a very singular foreigner. It is the Umbrella Bird, found in the country bordering upon the river Amazon. Cassell, to whom we are indebted for the copy from which our engraving was taken, describes it as equally curious and beautiful. Its name is derived from the full, outspreading plumes which tower above its head, resembling the horse-tail crests of the helmets of Greece. The umbrella bird is about the size of a jay; from the upper an air, That all your hard toils will seem only a pleas- part of the chest depends a sort of apron ure. or screen, of square-edged feathers, which is very graceful. Its entire plumage is jet black with rich violet reflections, especially on the chest and crest plumes. The gard'ner delights in his sweet simple strain, The slow lingering schoolboys forget they'll be chid, While gazing intent as he warbles before them, In mantle of sky-blue and bosom so red That each little loiterer seems to adore him. And leans on his spade to survey and to hear him; "When all the gay scenes of the summer are o'er, And autumn slow enters so silent and sallow, And millions of warblers, that charm'd us before, Have fled in the train of the sun-seeking swallow; The blue-bird, forsaken, yet true to his home, warm, The green face of earth, and the pure blue of heaven, Or love's native music, have influence to charm, Or sympathy's glow to our feelings are given, Still dear to each bosom the blue-bird shall be; His voice, like the thrillings of hope, is a treas ure, For, through bleakest storms, if a calm he but see, He comes to remind us of sunshine and pleasure." The family of Wrens is entitled to respectful notice. They are citizens of the world, and found everywhere. A writer in Loudon's Magazine of Natural History makes some curious observations relative to the nests of these well-known little warblers. "Many nests," he says, “may be found which have no feathers; but did you ever find either eggs or young in them? As far as my observation goes, the fact is, that the nest in which the wren lays its eggs is profusely lined with feathers; but during the period of incubation the male, apparently desirous to be doing something, constructs half a dozen nests in the vicinity of the first, none of which are lined; and, while the first nest is so artfully concealed as to be seldom found, the latter are very frequently seen. The wren does not appear to be very careful in the selection of a site for the cock-nests, as they are called, and I have frequently seen them in the twigs of a thick thorn hedge, under banks in hay-stacks, in ivy bushes, in old clumps, in the loopholes of buildings, and in one instance in an old bonnet placed among some peas to frighten away the black-caps." The most admired variety is known as the Golden-Crested Wren, an active, unsuspicious little creature about four inches in length, of an olive yellow color, with a white line passing round the frontlet, and extending over and beyond the eye on each side; above this another line or strip of deep black passes in the same manner, extending further behind. Between these two strips of black lies a bed of glossy golden yellow, which, being parted a little, exposes another of a bright flame color, extending over the whole upper part of the head. When the little warbler flits among |