"EVENING STAR" SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT OF ENTERTAINING REAPING.

No. 47.]

AUCKLAND, SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER ' 23, 1876

[tßids: ONE. PENNY.

THE DEAD IN THE SEA.

'ifltOM THE GERMAN OF tfERDINAHD llJnder the sea-waves bright and clear, JDeep on the pearly gravelly sands, t>eps many a brave his slumber drear, ho joined the gay and gallant bands nuatpnshedfromTorth their landand home, Companions of the wild sea-foam, _ iWhen blasts arose and tossed their barlr, i^il], whelmed beneath the waters dark, !{The storm-king claimed them for his own, jlhat late in life and beauty shone! Under the sea-waves green and bright, Deep on the pearly gravelly strands, Sleeps many a one in slumber light, pat not by the storm-king's ruthless hands? For there, within his narrow berth, ties the cold corpse of clammy earth! Never to hail a harbour more, Never to reach a friendly shore ; To a rude plank his form they hsh ; Heave over board—waves sullen plash !

Ocean-depths yawn widely gaping, Graves in the mirror-sea to form; Churchyard hillocks there are shaping, Every swell of the heaving storm ! Could we descend into the deep, 36uld we but still the waves to sleep, There might we rows of sleepers see, foount the white bones lie glitteringly— ■ jThings that the polypus spins so fine. Weaving his network beneath the brine: ihere might we see them pillowed fair, Oa moss, and sand, and soft Bea-weed ; Grinning in death, behold them there I Irishes in shoals around them breed, Bwordfish polish their bony arms, Mermaid* mutter their mystic charms, plnd deck them out to make them fair, With many a gift of ocean rare 1 One anoints, while another kneeling, fJraids the long neglected tresses, from the soft purple shell now stealing Bloom for the wan and bony faces. One with a pearly necklace long, Weaving a wild and mournful song, ganders among the dead in the sea, Glittering with ornaments wondrously.

There may you see the shrivelled arm, Gleaming in ambsr's golden glow; There the bright coral's crimson charm, Naked skull wreathing—blanched like snow. . ... . t •earls the most precious—pure and wmte lare in those vacant orbs of light; , ad the sea-reptiles, loathsome, crawl l and out, and around them all, licking the marrow from the bones Greedily, of those shipwrecked ones* Ihere might we see the stately magt Bearing its freight of corpses lashed, Dlasped by the sea-rock,where the blast, Shattering it fiercely, wildly dashed ; gnawed by the worms, unconcious sleeper, jfiobted to rock-cliff all the deeper, Dreams perchance of the granite tower Beetling above his home's sweet bower ; for under the sea-waves bright and green, Imong pure pearls of the silvery sheen, Iftany a rustic companion sleeps, fjiVho sank in the wave-worn ocean deeps. Slumber they far from home and hall; _ (flowers there are none to deck their bier; Triends are not nigh to spread the pall, fQ'er their pale forms to shed the tear.. Balmy rosemary there i 3 none-' iEose-tree never shall breathe upon |rraves where, sweet, they sleep 'neath r . the billow, Waving around no weeping wihow. Matters it not! Though fall no tear over the corpse in his briny bier, Troubles it not the ' dead in the sea — Saft tears around them flow ceacelessly. i ■

HEARTLESS.

\ Yes! you have called me heartless, Haughty , and proud, and cold. With ne'er a thought of the anguish That has made my heart grow old. Just as the sunset crimsoned, But one short year ago, My cheeks burned hot with blushes I At your love-whisperings low. I fondly deemed you perfect, We dreamed the hours away, Till I found one fateful morning My idol was but day. That moment I grew heartless, As only a woman can, # With no love for all creation, Nor trust in any man. I So when you deem me scornful Whene'er by chance we meet, I Think of the heart, once loving, You trampled 'neath your feet. —Eliza E. Anthony.

f A melting sermon being preached in a Country church, all the congregation were Weeping, except one man, who begged to te excused, as he belonged to another church. • 1 What's going on ?' said a well-known bore to Douglas Jerrold. • I am,' was the ireply, and on he went.

Northern and Southern Hemis phere.

The following interesting article on the Polar Glaciers, written by. Professor C. Merriman, is from the 'Popular Science Gazette '■:—

The Professor sets out by stating that the centre of gravity of the earth is the centre of the sphere formed by the surface of the oceans—making slight allowances for polar flattening, it is a point equally distant from the level of the sea on all sides. In each hemisphere the sea level in the same latitude would be at the same distance from the centre, and ' whatever excess of visible land there is in one half must be balanced by some correspond ing weight in the other half. And it is evident that this counterpoising weight must in fact be land, supposing as is almost certainly the case, that the hemispheres are equally heavy accord ing to bulk. It therefore follows to a methematicall demonstration that there is exactly the same weight of land projected above the water in both hemispheres. But the map of the world as geographers have outlined it, shows that there is apparently a vast preponderance of land north of the equator. Humboldt estimated that Asia stands at the average height of 1150 feet above the sea; South America, 1130; North America 750 ; Europe, 670. The average height of the whole — omitting Africa and Australia, which are about as rhuch south as north of the equator, is 920 feet. There are in the northern hemisphere 44, 000, 000, square miles known to geographers ; in the southern, about 16, 000, 000 —little more than a third as much —leaving a difference of 28,000, 060 square miles averag ing 920 feet high. But as there is tKe same visible excess of water on the southern side, that there is of land on the northern, and as the depth of these is about the same, it follows that the weight-of the-excessof submer j ged land inthe northern hemisphere must be added to the 28,000,000, square miles, doubling the height of it, and making it at least iB4o feet above the average level of the southern continents and oceans depths. What is there south of the equator to balance this ? We must have something or the earth would not • maintain its poise. There must be something on the southern side to balance the orb and make the water level as possible. This balancing weight is estimated by Professor Merriman to lie on that. Vast unexplored and inaccessible region, as large as North America, that caps and surrounds the southern pole. But supposing this 8,000,000 miles within the Antarctic circle to be land, it would still require over it all an average thickness of two and a half miles of solid ice to make the southern hemis phere equal the northern in weight. This vast iceberg, Professor Merri man believes to exist. The voyages of explorers thereaway seem to confirm this hypothesis. They have not been able to penetrate the high and formid aple ice barrier which masks this deso late region. No sign of animal life or vegetation is there, while within the Arctic circle of the north, there are numerous settlements and whole races of men. In the north sledges have penetrated within 600 miles of the pole; in the south no man ever ven tured within 1500 miles. What causes this great difference? The explana tion is plain. Owing to its eccentric movement around the sun, our northern summer is some eight dayß longer than our winter, while in ths South the winter is eight days longer than the summer. This sixteen days makes such difference, which is emphasised by the additional fact, that, during the long southern winter the earth is farthest from the sun. Thus year after year, for a long period, there has been a steady accumulation of ice ma terial about the south pole, adding weight to that hemisphere. Then as this weight of ice increased, the earth's centre of gravity has gradually moved to the south, and the waters flue£p-d obedient to gravitation, have 'slowly gathered into southern seas, covering the lowlands of the south. _ At the same time this transfer of weight from the north has drawn the waters away

from the Arctic regions, and left the scabars and shoals, to protect and be come habitable.,. But this state of things is not always to go on. The north is not always to bask in the longest summer. ; i The earth, in addition to its diurnal and annual revolutions, has a, slow wabbling of its axis in the heavens. It is precisely as when one touches the* rim of a top in rapid motion, the upper end of the stem describes a small circle. So the mighty sun lays hold of the protuberant rim of the great terrestial top, and it begins to oscillate in the long period of 21,000 years. That is to say, on December 21, 1848, the earth made its nearest approach to the sun; and it will approach equally near in 10,500 years from that time, or in the year 11,748, on July 21. In the year comprising the first case our norbhem winters are short and mild, and our summers long and sunny. During the period of which the year 11,748 will be the middle, our winters will be severe and our summers short. The northern hemisphere is now losing its great summer. In about 10,000 years it will be in the midst of its great and terrible winter. Then the southern, hemisphere will be full of sunlight and prolonged warmth. Now let us see what would result from this. The melting of a mile in thickness of the icecupola of the south pole would raise the sea-level at the north pole 300 feet, at. London 200 feet, and at New York 200 feet. If the whole ice-cupola were removed and equal quantity deposited at the north pole, there would be a deeping of the sea at the Arctic circle of 1500 feet; at New York of . considerably more than 10,000 feet. Thus it is seen that, as certainly as terrestrial revolutions continue, in the course of 10,000 years there must come an entire reversal of polar conditions. The southern waters must be drained off to make the oceans of an opposit9 ham.3pb.ore. New lauds enriched with the sediment of a hun dred centuries, will rise up to extend the borders of the old south continents, and islands joining together will expand iato mainlands. At the same time the northern continents must be in a great part submerged and their summits and ranges become the bleak islands and the bold headlands of a tempestuous ocean. Central Asia, with its broad, table land, may still retain the name of a continent, bat beyoad a few outlying islands there will be no Europe and but little of North America left. The Atlantic waters will stand 500 feet over Lake Superior,, and will wash the' base of the Rocky Mountains in all their length. A new Gulf Stream may again, as it must often have done before, flow up the Valley of the Mississippi, returning the delias to the prairies and remaking the beds of the garden of the world. These are no idle or impossible fancies. Not only are they results of vigorous calculations, but they accord perfectly with the. unmistakable evidences which the ocean has left on all our land of its recent work and presence. _____

the prediction to beat correct one.' Erom' what we ' can learn 'respecting* the cdntemporary literature of the Slavonians," it wduld seem that while in the west, as on all hands is admitted, the genius of poetry (pauses ml her career, in the east she is quickening her step, and perhaps about to pass us injthe race.; But however this may be, in one important department, the poetry of the people, the Slavonians have already immeasurably outstripped us; and by competent judges,it is 'de cided that the collective minstrelsy of all other countries must yield, both in wealth and beauty, to that of the na tions of Slavonian origin- There is, further, in this respect, a curious and interesting distinction between west ern and eastern Europe. Our accum ulated stores of popular poetry seem closed to all occessiona,. save from a somewhat distant past; But with the Slavonians, this very present, as it flies, its joys, its sorrows, all its varied emo tions, are being changed into melody and song; here, the stream has formed itself into a lake; yonder, receiving new tributaries, it still flows onward, widening andfgathering strength as it proceeds.

The Servians and Their Songs.

The just and natural curiosity res pecting Russia and its inhabitants, which during the last few years has been aroused in the English mind, will in all probability be increased rather than diminished in the course of this and the immediately succeeding gener ations. Nor will it ever, we are in clined to think, be finally satisfied with anything less than a thorough compre hension, not of the Russians only, but of the other interesting nations and tribes who, along with them, compose the great blavonian family. , Their growing political and commercial im portance can escape the glance of no one 5 but, apart from such consider ations, these fifty-five millions of Sla vonians deserve attention on purely intellectual grounds:. and even we, the countrymen of Shakspheare, of Milton, and of Burns; may find our account in the study of their literature and their languages. It was but the other day we heard a friend predict, that in thirty years a knowledge, of Russian would be as common an accomplishment among us as a knowledge of German is at present. And, strange as it may _ ap pear, to many of our readers, we believe

Queen Elizabeth's Last Illness.

The Archbishop of Canterbury, and Cecil intreated her to receive medical aid; but she angrily told them, ' that she knew her own constitution better than they did, and that she was not in so much danger as they imagined.' l?he admiral came and knelt beside her, where she sat among her Cushions, sul len and unresigned; he: kissed her hands, and, with tearsy implored her to take a little nourishment^: After much ado, he prevailed so fail, that she re ceived a little brothi from his hands, he feeding her with a spoon. But when he urged her to go to bed, she angrily refused, and then, in wild and' wander ing words; hinted of phantaama that had troubled her midnight couch. .'lf he were in the habit of seeing such things in his bed/ she said, ' as she did when in < hers, he ; would not persuade her to go there.' Secretary Cecil over hearing this speech, asked 'if her ma jesty had rieen any spirits?' A flash of Elizabeth's mighty mind for an in stant triumphed over the wreck of her bodily and mental faculties ; she knew the man, and was ■ aware he had been truckling with her successor. He was not in her confidence, and she answer ed majestically, 'she scorned to answer him such a question!' But Cecil's pertness was not subdued by the lion like mien of dying; majesty, and he told tier that, <* to content the people, she must go to bed.' At which she smiled, wonderfully contemning to him, observ ing, 'the word must was not to be used to princes ;' adding, ' Little man, little man, if your father had lived, ye durst not have said so much ; but ye know I must die, and that makes ye so pre sumptuous.' She then commanded him and the rest to depart out of her cham ber, all but Lord Admiral Howard, to whom, as her near relation and fast friend through life, she was confidential to the last, even regarding those unreal phantasms, which, when her great mind awoke for a moment, it is plain she referred to their proper, causes. When Cecil and his colleagues were gone, the queen, shaking her hoad piteously, said to her brave kinsman, 'My lord, I am tied with a chain of iron about my neck.' The lord admiral reminded her of her wonted courage ; but she replied despondingly, 'I am tied, I am tied, and the case is altered with me.' The queen understood that Secretary Cecil had given forth to the people that she was mad ; therefore, in her sickness, she did many times say unto him, ' Cecil, I am not mad • you must not think to, make Queen Jane of me.' She evidently alluded,to the unfortunate queen-regnant of Castille, tlie mad Joanna, mother of Charles V"v whose sad life, asaregal maniac, was fresh in the memory of her dying contemporary.— -[Agnes itkricTcltind.. ;

Furnishing a House.

The late Harriet Martineau, who died on the 27th June last, at her quiet farm at Ambleside, was one of the most remarkable of the literary women

of the present ;age.' The following re marks ;in her flo'vel, ' Deerbrook, on fiirnishing a house, miay" be interesting' ap the" opinions'of "a lady who lived a single life :':—* '"'■■'■ | All things are according to the ideas and feelings with which they are con nected; arid if, as old Q-eorge Herbert says, dusting a room is an act of re ligious grace when 11 it is done from a sense of religioii^ duty,'fu^iishing ? a house is a process of nigh enjoyment ■ when it is the preparation for a home of happy love.' The dwelling is hung all round with bright anticipations, and crowded with blissful thoughts, spoken by none, perhaps, but present to all On this table, and by this snug fireside, will the cheerful winter breakfast go forward, when each is about to enter on the gladsome business of the day ; and that sofa will be drawn out, and those curtains will be closed, when the intellectual pleasures of the even ing, the rewards of the laborious day, begin. Those ground windows will stand open all the simmer noon, and the flower stands will be gay and fra grant ; and the shaded parlour will be the cool retreat of the wearied husband when he comes, in to rest from hia pro fessional toils. There will stand the books, destined to refresh and refine his hgher tastes: and there the music with "which the wife will indulge him. Here will they first feel what ibis to hajre a home of their own, /when they will first enjoy the privacy bf it, the security, the freedom, the consequence in,the eyes of.others, the sacrebness in i their own. Here they will first exercise the graces of hospitality, and the responsibility, of | control Here will they feel. tb.a£. t%V have attained , the, great resting-place of their life—the resting-place of,their, individual lot, but only the startling-poinl of1 their activity. Such is the work of furnishing a house once in a.lifetime. , It may be a wel come, task to the fine lady, decking her drawing-r.oom anew,: to gratify her ambition,'. or diver.t her ennui ; it. may be a satisfactory "l'ab/our ii^6 ' the elderly couple, settling theme.eives.afresh, whexi : their children are dispersed, abroad, and it becomes necessary.to .discard the furniture that the ' boys have battered and.spoiled; it may be a refined amuse- , ment to the selfish man1 of taste, wish ing to r prolong or pecali the scenes jf ' foreign travel; but .to none is it the conscious delight that it is to young lovers and their sympathising friends, whetherthe scene be the'twd rooms of the! hopeful young artisan^ ( about to bring his bride home from service, or the palace of a nobleman, enriched with intellectual luxuries for the lady of his adoration* or the quiet abode of an unambitious professioaal, man, whose aim is privacy and cocnfp.rt.— '

i Whea I s&ZB into the stays they look 'down upon me witn pity from their? ; serene and silent spaces, like eyes glisten* ing witih tears over the little man. Thousands of generations, all as noisy as our own, have been swallowed up by time, and there remains no record of them any" more. Yet Arcturus and: Orion, Sirius I and Pleiades, are still shining in their ! bright courses, clear and young as when I the shepherd first noted them in the plain of Shinar. —Thomas Carlyle. When Mark Twain stood beside the tomb of Columbus in Genoa, dropping a ' remark suggestive of doubt as to the de* mise of tne great navigator,, an opinion was prevalent throughput the civilized world that, to Christopher, belonged the honor of having first set eyes on the New World. Bat science and research are , constantly dispelling illusions, and it now ' turns out that America was discovered as long ago in 1170 by the Welsh. At least I&e v. Benjamin F: Bo wen has indulged in enough historical speculation on the subject to fill quite a book, and the public are asked to drop Christopher, and honor the name of Prince Madoc, who came to our s.tores in the year above stated, and in the cdurse of, a century a welsh-Indian race was developed. And yet is sad to think of dropping that good old tune ' Hail Columbia' andboringourselves with sonic unintelligible Welsh lingo about Prince Madoc. ~;:,., .

' Sire, ,one word,', said a soldier one day to Frederick the Great, when presenting to him a re.qnest for the brevet of lieutenant. ' jf.ybu say two,' answered the Kin gi • I will have you hanged.' ' Sign,v replied the soldier. The king stared, whistled, and signed. ■ ■ ,

A doctor says that a strong passionate love will .bring on heart disease, and it stands us all in hand to love mildly and with a good deal of lethargy,