The Mirror, 1828.07.05, issue No. 321 | Page 9

epithets: "most active, quick-witted,
enterprising, orderly, moral, simple, vigorous, healthful, manly,
generous, just, wise, innocent, civilized, liberal, polite, enlightened,
ingenious, moderate, glorious, firm, free, virtuous, intelligent,
sagacious, kind, honest, independent, brave, gallant, intellectual,
well-governed, elevated, dignified, pure, immaculate, extraordinary,
wonderful," &c. He then calls them the "most improving," which is
painting, nay coating, the lily, to "wasteful and ridiculous excess."
OSTRICHES
Impart a lively interest to a ride in the Pampas. They are sometimes
seen in coveys of twenty or thirty, gliding elegantly along the
undulations of the plain, at half pistol-shot from each other, like
skirmishers. The young are easily domesticated, and soon become
attached to those who caress them; but they are troublesome inmates;
for, stalking about the house, they will, when full grown, swallow coin,
shirt-pins, and every small article of metal within reach. Their usual
food, in a wild state, is seeds, herbage, and insects; the flesh is a
reddish brown, and if young, not of bad flavour. A great many eggs are
laid in the same nest. Some accounts exonerate the ostrich from being
the most stupid bird in the creation. This has been proved by the
experiment of taking an egg away, or by putting one in addition. In
either case she destroys the whole by smashing them with her feet.
Although she does not attend to secrecy, in selecting a situation for her
nest, she will forsake it if the eggs have been handled. It is also said

that she rolls a few eggs thirty yards distant from the nest, and cracks
the shells, which, by the time her young come forth, being filled with
maggots, and covered with insects, form the first repast of her infant
brood. The male bird is said to take upon himself the rearing of the
young. If two cock-birds meet, each with a family, they fight for the
supremacy over both; for which reason an ostrich has sometimes under
his tutelage broods of different ages.--_Mem. Gen. Miller._
Dr. Kitchiner recommends a gentleman who has a mind to carry the
arrangement of his clothes to a nicety, to have the shelves of his
wardrobe numbered 30, 40, 50, and 60, and according to the degree of
cold pointed to by his thermometer, to wear a corresponding defence
against it.
Dr. Harwood fed two pointers; one he suffered to sleep after dinner,
another he forced to take exercise. In the stomach of the one who had
been quiet and asleep, all the food was digested; in the stomach of the
other, that process was hardly begun.
SIR WALTER'S LAST.
At page 354 of our last vol., the reader will find an eloquent description
of Perth, from the Wicks of Beglie, quoted from St. Valentine's Eve.
This turns out to be a topographical blunder, for the "fair city" cannot
be seen at all from the said Wicks, whereas the author has described it
as the best point of view. As our readers have long since enjoyed the
description, we shall doubtless be pardoned for thus noticing the
mistake.
TELEGRAPHS.
The system of telegraphs has arrived at such perfection in the
presidency of Bombay, that a communication may be made through a
line of 500 miles in eight minutes.--_Weekly Rev._
One of the drawing-room critics who uphold the literature of lords and
ladies, sums up the merits of fashionable novel-writing as
follows:--"After all, it is something to scrutinize lords and ladies,

recline on satin sofas, eat off silver dishes--whose nomenclature is the
glory of _l'artiste_--though only in a book."
MAHOGANY.
The largest and finest log of mahogany ever imported into this country
has been recently sold by auction at the docks in Liverpool. It was
purchased for 378l., and afterwards sold for 525l., and if it open well, it
is supposed to be worth 1,000l. If sawed into veneers, it is computed
that the cost of labour in the process will be 750l. The weight on the
king's beam is six tons thirteen hundred weight.
Dugald Stewart, the celebrated metaphysician, of whom Scotland has
just reason to be proud, died a short time since at Edinburgh, at the age
of seventy-five. He recently published two volumes, of which a
distinguished gentleman in Edinburgh thus speaks:--"June 16. Dugald
Stewart is to be buried to-morrow. A great light is gone out, or rather
gone down,--for its glory will long be in the sky, though its orb be no
more visible above the horizon. He corrected his last two volumes with
his own hand within these three months. What philosopher, especially
palsy-stricken ten years ago,--could ring in better. Glorious fellow! I
hear his splendid sentences and exquisite voice sounding in mine ear at
the distance of nearly thirty winters. His peculiar merit was the purity
and loftiness of his moral taste. For about forty years he