influence of the stars upon human affairs; and her supposition, also, that she had discovered the power of reading their language. She proved, in fact, to be a pure-minded visionary, enthusiastic in her hopes for man's future good, and withal possessed of an intellect naturally clear, lofty, and vigorous. Her creed of divination, as shewn in the following sentence, appears to be a compound of Orientalism and Lavaterism :-There is a science at present lost in your Europe-I possess it: I read in the stars-we are all children of some one of those celestial fires which presided at our birth, and of which the happy or malignant influence is written in our eyes, on our forehead, in our fortunes, in the lines of our hands, in the form of our feet, in our gesture, in our walk. I have only seen you for a few minutes, yet you are known to ine as well as if I had lived an age with you.' Lady Esther did indeed make a good guess at the character of her guest. She knew not his name, and even if she had, that would have told her nothing, for she never read books. The only thing she did know was, that he could write a very civil letter; yet she said, within a quarter of an hour after having first seen him: You must be a poet. After a conversation, in which she shewed the liveliest powers of fancy, a black slave entered, who prostrated himself on the carpet, she said: 'Go; dinner is served; dine quickly, and return soon. I will study you, and endeavour to see more clearly than in the first confusion of my ideas, into your person and future destiny (through the stars). As for me, I never eat with any one: I live very abstemiously: a little bread and fruit, when I feel hungry, are all I take; but I must not subject my guest to such a regimen.' When M. Lamartine had dined, he returned to Lady Esther, and found her smoking a long Oriental pipe, in a nonchalant and graceful attitude, after the fashion of ladies in the East. The conversation again turned on the favourite subject-' On the unique and mysterious theme of this extraordinary woman-this modern magician-this Circe of the desert-who fully reminded me of the most celebrated magi of antiquity.

The traveller took an opportunity of testing Lady Esther's powers of divination, by inquiring her opinions relative to certain individuals whom he knew to have visited her, and he declares her judgments to have been in most cases wonderfully correct, though she knew these personages only by name. He remarks, finally, respecting Lady Esther's character: 'I felt that no string was wanting to this lofty and vigorous mind; that all the stops of the instrument gave a correct, full, and powerful sound, excepting, perhaps, the metaphysical chord, which too great a stretch, too solitary a life, had forced or raised to a tone far too elevated for human understanding.' In parting with M. Lamartine, Lady Esther observed, in the mystical manner which had become natural to her: "We must not bid each other farewell; we shall often meet on this journey, and oftener still in future journeys, which you do not even contemplate at present.'

Alas! these anticipations were, we believe, never realised. Lady Esther Stanhope died a few years ago, in the same self-exiled position in which Lamartine had found her.

ANECDOTES OF WOLVES.

THE wolf resembles the dog in shape, but is generally larger and more muscular, as well as more savage in appearance. The leading peculiarity of the wolf, whereever it may be found, is ferocity of disposition, accompanied with a certain degree of meanness or cowardliness, which is foreign to the character of the dog in all its varieties. It has been usual with naturalists to represent the wolf as untractable, or at least unsusceptible of attachment to man. But this is now discovered to be incorrect. The wild ferocious character of the wolf, it appears, is very much the result of the circumstances in

which it is placed. Cuvier mentions the case of a young wolf which was brought up like a dog by a gentleman in France, and became familiar with every person whom it was in the habit of seeing; learned to follow like a dog, was obedient, and attached to its master in an extreme degree. This remarkable case of the taming of a wolf is given as an instance of how much may be accomplished by early culture and kindness on even the wildest and most rapacious of animals.

Wolves were at one time plentiful in Britain and Ireland, but it is long since they were extirpated. They still abound in the northern parts of Europe, particularly in Russia, and are numerous in some parts of France, where they commit dreadful devastations. They are likewise common in North America, where they are black in colour, and in some instances white. In the year 1764, a wolf committed the most dreadful devastations in some particular districts of Languedoc, in the south of France, and soon became the terror of the whole country. According to the accounts given in the Paris gazette, it was known to have killed twenty persons, chiefly women and children; and public prayers are said to have been offered up for its destruction. It seems rather strange, that wolves were not yet banished from the thickly inhabited parts of France at the period to which we refer. This is apparent from the following anecdote, which we quote from a London newspaper of 1838 :

"The winter before last, Monsieur de B- an advocate of Dijon, was returning rather late from shooting near that town, when his dog, a small pointer, which was a few paces in advance, ran suddenly back in evident alarm. The spot was a long hollow, formed by two sand-banks; and as far as his eye could reach, he could discover no cause for the animal's sudden terror, which sent him crouching to his feet. He proceeded cautiously, however, cocking both barrels of his gun; but for upwards of 200 yards, no cause of alarm presented itself. Indeed, he had forgotten the circumstance, and rested the gun across his shoulder, when the dog again sprang behind him with

an affrighted yell. A wolf stood on the sand-bank, about thirty yards before him. Armed only with partridge-shot, Monsieur de B- considered it most prudent to retreat, and gain a cross-road in the rear. He had not returned many yards, when, to his horror and astonishment, he beheld another wolf barring his path on that side. Neither as yet ventured to attack him, and as he advanced, each retired; but the other would draw closer to his heels. His situation became critical, for night was approaching, and he feared that with it more assailants would be down upon him; and to this they both howled, as if to call a reinforcement, and the sportsman at length felt certain they were answered from the hills. No time was to be lost; he rapidly advanced on one, and within twenty paces fired both barrels at him. The wolf fell wounded, and the other cleared the bank, evidently scared. Monsieur de B―, following his example, took to his heels, and never drew breath till he had entered Dijon. On examining the snow next morning, it was ascertained that he had been hotly pursued to the very gates. As for the wounded wolf, a few bones were all that his comrades had left of him.'

The following account of the rapacity of wolves in Russia, is given by a traveller, but of whose name we are ignorant, from the manner it has come under our notice ::

A peasant, when one day in his sledge, was pursued by eleven of those ferocious animals: at this time he was only about two miles from home, towards which he urged his horse at the very top of his speed. At the entrance to his residence was a gate, which happened to be closed at the time; but the horse dashed this open, and thus himself and his master found refuge within the courtyard. They were followed, however, by nine out of the eleven wolves; but, very fortunately, at the instant these had entered the enclosure, the gate swung back on its hinges, and thus they were caught as in a trap. From being the most ferocious of animals, the nature of these beasts, now that they found escape impossible, became

completely changed: so far, indeed, from offering molestation to any one, they slunk into holes and corners, and allowed themselves to be slaughtered almost without making resistance.'

The following singular adventure of General Putnam with a wolf, in the state of Connecticut, in North America, has been already made known in works of natural history, but may here appropriately be repeated :

'Some time after Mr Putnam had removed to Connecticut, the wolves, which were then very numerous, broke into his sheepfold, and killed seventy fine sheep and goats, besides worrying several lambs and kids. This dreadful havoc was committed by a she-wolf, which, with her annual whelps, had for several years infested the neighbourhood. The whelps were commonly destroyed by the vigilance of the hunters, but the old one was too sagacious to come within reach of gunshot; and upon being closely pursued, she would generally fly to the western woods, and return the next winter with another litter of whelps.

This animal at length became such an intolerable nuisance, that Mr Putnam and five of his neighbours agreed to hunt alternately, until they could destroy her, and two of them, in rotation, were to be constantly in pursuit. It was known that, having lost the toes from one foot by a steel-trap, she made one track shorter than the other. By this vestige the pursuers recognised, in a light snow, the route of the wolf. Having followed her to Connecticut river, and found she had turned back toward Pomfret, they immediately returned, and by ten o'clock next morning the blood-hounds had driven her into a cave about three miles distant from Mr Putnam's house. The people soon assembled with dogs, guns, straw, fire, and sulphur, to attack their common enemy, and several attempts were made to dislodge her from the den; but the hounds came back wounded and intimidated, and neither the smoke of blazing straw, nor the fumes of brimstone, could compel her to quit her retirement.