least a reason why, on all the few points of discussion which can arise between us, we should preserve the courtesies of life, and as much of its kindness as people who are never to meet may preserve perhaps more easily than nearer connexions.  For my own part, I am violent, but not malignant; for only fresh provocations can awaken my resentments.  To you, who are colder and more concentrated, I would just hint, that you may sometimes mistake the depth of a cold anger for dignity, and a worse feeling for duty.  I assure you, that I bear you now (whatever I may have done) no resentment whatever.  Remember, that if you have injured me in aught, this forgiveness is something; and that, if I have injured you, it is something more still, if it be true as the moralists say, that the most offending are the least forgiving.  Whether the offence has been solely on my side, or reciprocal, or on yours chiefly, I have ceased to reflect upon any but two things,—­viz. that you are the mother of my child, and that we shall never meet again.  I think if you also consider the two corresponding points with reference to myself, it will be better for all three.”

* * * * *

THE NATURALIST.

DANCING FISH—­SEA-SERPENT, &c.

In a paper on “Oceanic Dangers,” in the United Service Journal is the following:—­

There is a species of grampus from two to three tons weight, and about sixteen feet in length, that amuses itself with jumping, or rather springing its ponderous body entirely out of the water, in a vertical position, and falling upon its back; this effort of so large a fish is almost incredible, and informs us how surprisingly great the power of muscle must be in this class of animal.  I have seen them spring out of the water within ten yards of the ship’s side, generally in the evening, after having swam all the former part of the day in the ship’s wake, or on either quarter.  When several of these fish take it into their heads to dance a “hornpipe,” as the sailors have termed their gambols, at the distance of half a mile they, especially at or just after sun-down, may easily be mistaken for the sharp points of rocks sticking up out of the water, and the splashing and foam they make and produce have the appearance of the action of the waves upon rocks.  An officer of the navy informed me, that after sunset, when near the equator, he was not a little alarmed and surprised (because quite unexpected) at the cry of “rocks on the starboard bow:”  looking forward through the dubious light (if the expression may be admitted,) he indistinctly saw objects which he and all on board took to be the pinnacles of several rocks of a black and white colour:  in a short time, however he discovered this formidable danger to be nothing more than a company of dancing grampuses with white bellies:  as one disappeared, another rose, so that there were at least five or six constantly above the surface!