a part entering the inclosure, a part being stationed on the wall as sentry, and the rest placed outside at a convenient distance from each other, forming a line that extends from their place of pillage to their rendezvous. All being thus arranged, the animals commence the pillage by tossing the melons, apples, pears, etc., to those upon the wall, and they, in turn, throw them to those outside, and so they are passed along the line, which ordinarily reaches some mountain. They are so expert, and have so keen an eye, that they rarely let the fruits fall in tossing them from one to the other, and the whole is done in profound silence and with much promptness. When the sentinels perceive any one they utter a cry, and at this signal the whole troop flee with astonishing celerity. The Chacmas are sociable and live in troops, but when they are fixed in a rocky mountain that suits them, they will not tolerate the establishment of any other troop in their neighborhood. They defend their own territory against the approach of all other mammifers, and man in particular. If they perceive one of the latter the alarm is immediately sounded, they call their comrades together with great cries, and mutually encouraging each other, they commence the attack. They first throw at the enemy stones, sticks, and anything upon which they can lay their hands, VOL. XI.-23 all the while approaching and trying to surround them and cut off their retreat. A few discharges of fire-arms frighten them, but their intrepid courage prevents their fleeing until they have seen several of their number stretched upon the ground. If their unfortunate antagonist is without a gun, or his powder fails him, he is lost; the Chacmas press upon him, they seize him, kill him, and tear him to pieces. An imprudent Englishman, drawn into the pursuit of these ferocious animals, on Table Mountain, near the Cape, suddenly saw himself surrounded by them, and at last was pushed to the very point of a rock overhanging a precipice. In vain he fired a few shots at these animals; they rushed upon him with fearful cries, and the unhappy hunter chose to cast himself down the abyss, rather than be torn in pieces by them. He was killed by the fall. The Chacmas themselves prefer this fate to captivity. I have received from the lips of M. Delalande a fact which proves it. Well armed, and assisted by Hottentot hunters attached to his service, he one day undertook to surround a little troop of these animals upon the verge of a precipice where their retreat was impossible. They did not hesitate to throw themselves down three hundred feet, rather than be taken. The scared little monkey who appears in our cut to be receiving condign punish stiti of the French naturalists. The Marmozet, one of the most noted of these, is a much smaller creature than any of the monkeys previously mentioned, being not more than six inches in length, or about as large as a squirrel. Its tail is ring-streaked black and gray, and its body is watered or waved with a rich yellowish gray. The face and palms of the hands are fleshcolored; it has quite a prominence between the eyes, and a white spot on the forehead; the ear is surrounded with stiff long hairs. The Marmozet is a native of Guiana and Brazil, and is much sought everywhere, not on account of its gentle ment at the hands of the Chacma is the Cercocebus radiatus, sometimes called the Macacus, known also as the Chinese Bonnet Monkey, probably so called on account of the rays of hair which diverge in all directions from the face. The muzzle is smaller and straighter than that of most of the other macaci, the face and ears are of a livid flesh color, and the hands violet. The Bonnet Monkey inhabits India, and is found principally on the coast of Malabar, where it enjoys the same privileges as the Hoonuman in Bengal. The natives are forbidden to kill it, under some pretext or other, and under severe penalties. If a European happens to commit the dread-ness, but because it is pretty and makes ful crime, he is not subjected to the same penalties as the natives, because it would be difficult to inflict them, but the Brahmins are perfectly convinced that some of the ten or a dozen monkey gods will kill off the offender during the year, to be avenged for their earthly representative. The result is, that the Bonnet Monkey has plenty of elbow room in this part of India, and as the traveler Pyrard says, "These monkeys are so inquisitive, mischievous, and numerous, that they cause much damage, and the inhabitants of both town and country are obliged to put trellises upon the windows to keep them out of their houses." We have not, to my knowledge, any recent reports on this species, and the accounts of ancient travelers are very confused. Still it appears that the Bonnet Monkey has a capricious character, and wicked disposition, at least when it attains a certain age, and that it lives habitually on the pillage of orchards and sugar-cane plantations. It is also fond of the sap of the palm, which in India is used for the preparation of a fermented liquor called Zari. The monkey lies in ambuscade and watches the Hindoo when he taps the tree, and puts in a bamboo spout to conduct the sap to a vessel below. As soon as the Hindoo has gone, this mischievous creature darts from its hiding place, climbs the tree, and drinks the sap as fast as it flows out. It sometimes happens that the liquor intoxicates the animals, and then they are easily taken. But these observations are all of ancient date, and need to be confirmed anew. The Striated Monkey (Jacchus vulgaris) is probably so called from the color of its hairy coat, and belongs to the order Ou but little trouble. Its character is not When the male has been separated from the female in seeking her prey, he utters a sharp, prolonged whistle to call her, and by this means he betrays himself to the hunter. For if he perceives any disturbance he crouches in some fork of the large branches, and remains so perfectly quiet that it is impossible to get a glimpse of him. The male and female are never separated, though they appear to have very little affection for each other. The female shows much ferocity, and that, too, in circumstances which in other animals develop increased tenderness. She gives birth to three or four little ones at once, and usually makes her debut into maternal duties by biting off the heads of one or two of them. The education of the rest of her family is pursued with a similar degree of tenderness. The little ones climb upon her back, and when she consents to carry them it is but for a short time, and the moment that they embarrass or fatigue her, she rubs herself against the trunk or a branch of a tree, at the risk of crushing them; obliges them to release their hold, and then pursues her way, careless as to what may become of them. Happily for them, if they have a bad mother, their father shows himself much more affectionate. He hears their cries of distress and comes to their succor, takes them upon his back and carries them. In the course of time he overtakes the mother, and presents them to her for nourishment, which she offers with very bad grace. In captivity the Marmozet, though everywhere much admired by the ladies, does not show itself any more amiable. If we should judge by the motion of the large rolling eyes, and the sprightliness of its motion, we should suppose it to be possessed of much penetration, but it is not so; these are the result of distrust and fear. They never caress others, nor suffer themselves to be caressed. They distrust all the world, the hand that feeds them as well as others; they bite all indifferently. They are hardly susceptible of affection, but are very soon angry; the least opposition irritates them, and when frightened they utter a short, piercing cry, while running away to hide themselves. The two individuals in our engraving (the Jacchus penicillatus and Jacchus auritus) are other species of the same genus, both from Brazil. They are very little known, but their leading characteristics are the same as those of the preceding species. CESAR DUCORNET. N 1806, there was world without arms, and whose lower extremities could be described as nothing better than a kind of bony stalks, with the barest indications of thighs, and what might pass for the rudiments of legs. On either little foot there were but four toes. It was happy for both these humble parents that the spectacle of their child's wretched condition, so far from exciting discontent and loathing, stirred up the deepest springs of affection in their bosoms, and they loved him all the more. Such was the entry upon the world of Cæsar Ducornet, historical painter, victor in the academic schools, winner of the gold medal in the exhibitions of the Louvre, and corresponding member of the Imperial Society of Science, of Agriculture, and the Arts, at Lille. The early infancy of Ducornet is not, perhaps, to be regarded as unhappy; innocence is unconscious of its defects. Moreover, people found a charm in the vigorous and determined expression of his face; so much sprightly and precocious intelligence in his look; so much characteristic and curious dexterity in all his movements, that every one noticed him with sympathy, and treated him with tenderness. Meanwhile the infant grew in years and stature, and the poor parents had to ponder the difficult problem of a profession for their boy. The shoemaker gained a humble subsistence by the labor of his hands; but Providence had given the young Cæsar no hands to labor with, and they puzzled themselves in vain, since it was plain he could work at no known trade, as to what was be done O the, fith of January, welling of a poor pour parents in such a predicament would shoemaker in the Rue St. Jacques, at Lille, an infant so strangely helpless and deformed, that the attendants at its birth hesitated to show it to its parents. They regarded it with a species of horror; its utter feebleness foreboded its speedy death, and that they were ready to hail as a merciful dispensation, both for mother and babe. But the mother took it to her bosom with all a mother's love, and the hapless little stranger did not die. Some days after, when the poor shoemaker and his wife were left alone with their new-born son, they might have been seen stooping, with a mingled expression of terror, of pity, and parental compassion, over a craIdle, in which there rolled and twisted about a little lusus naturæ, sent into the have made a beggar of the boy, and have found their account in it; or they would have hired him out for exhibition by some traveling showman; but the father of Ducornet was an honest and independent artisan, who knew the true dignity of a workman, and was incapable of harboring any thought of this kind. Still the question arose, What was to be done? They had remarked that in his childish games the infant made use of his feet with most marvelous ability; he threw the ball to his comrades; cut things he wanted to cut with a knife; drew lines with chalk on the floor of the room; clipped out in paper figures and images with his mother's scissors; in a word, everything which other children did with their hands, he did with equal, if not excelling adroitness, with his four-toed feet. One day they surprised him in the act of drawing upon paper some masterly capital letters. An old writingmaster, named Dumoncel, saw them with astonishment, and immediately proposed to the shoemaker to take the boy under his gratuitous instruction. In less than a year, the little Ducornet-we cannot say wrote the finest hand, but-had become the first penman in the worthy Dumoncel's class. But the writing-master had soon fresh food for admiration. In addition to the fine character of the boy's writing, his copybooks began all at once to be illustrated by a crowd of designs, remarkable for their originality and correctness of outline. These were so abundant and striking, that Dumoncel, astonished, carried the productions of his pupil to M. Watteau, professor of design in the Academy at Lille. This second discovery had the same success as the first. M. Watteau, in his turn, fell in love with the prodigious aptitude of the young Ducornet, and did not rest until he had gained his admittance as a student of design at the Lille Academy; only, by a delicate attention, the professor installed him in the class of the adults, to save him from the rude curiosity of the boys of his own age, who constituted the elementary classes. At the Academy of Lille, Cæsar Ducornet carried off successively the highest prizes in each of the courses, and finished by having decreed to him the great medal in the living-model class. This last victory was regarded as an event in the good town of Lille. From this period must be dated a friendship, which proved the greatest happiness of Ducornet's life. It was now that he became intimate with a man, who was destined to act as a guardian angel through the remainder of his career; a man of true nobility of mind, whose life had been one long devotion to the arts and artists of his native town, and who lavished upon Ducornet, from his childhood to his death, all the tenderness of a parent. M. Demailly, of Lille, (the name ought not to be forgotten,) adopted the poor Ducornet, and undertook the charge of his future life. He took him into his house, fed him, clothed him, encouraged him in his efforts, in his trials, and at the same time, being himself an excellent judge and a distinguished amateur, aided him by his counsels. He went further he racked his ingenuity in the contrivance of seats, of easels, and of implements for painting, adapted to the abnormal structure of his protégé. When we reflect that the benevolent hand which guided the first steps of the Lille artist was reserved to close the eyes that death had glazed forty years afterward, are we not justified in believing that Providence prepares such loving hearts for the express solace of misfortune? But another earnest of success was now at hand. About this time the Duke d'Angoulême, going to visit the Museum at Lille, found our young artist there in the act of finishing a beautiful copy from a picture by Vandycke. Astounded at the sight of so strange a being executing a most difficult work of art, the prince took a lively interest in his fate; he conferred upon him a pension of twelve hundred francs, and prevailed upon him to go to Paris, there to continue his studies at greater advantage. The town of Lille, less princely in its generosity, increased the artist's pension by three hundred francs more. Upon this our artist sets out for Paris, whither, to complete his satisfaction, his friend, M. Demailly, is not slow to follow him. Now begins the grand struggle for reputation. He enters the Royal Academy of Painting, and at the same time his benefactor procures him admission into the studio of M. Lethière. Six months after his entrance at the Royal Academy, in 1826, he there obtains the third medal, and on the following year the second. In 1828 he presents himself as one of the candidates for the great prize to be awarded at Rome. Here occurs a circumstance rather curious to record. The examination has commenced; the artist has fully succeeded in all his preliminary trials, but the moment comes for competition, and now the professors, considering the diminutive figure and strange conformation of Ducornet, declare him physically incapable of managing a canvas prescribed by the regulation, (about five feet by four,) and close the arena against him. Thereupon Ducornet retires, and, to vindicate himself in the face of their unqualifying decision, he executes, upon these same regulation dimensions, his first picture, "The Parting of Hector and Andromache," which may be seen at this moment on the walls of the Museum at Lille. In 1829 the professors of the Royal Academy revoke their exclusion; Ducornet executes the proposed subject, “Jacob refusing to release the young Benjamin to his Brethren." His picture, according to the opinion of the best judges, deserves at least a second prize; but the Academy cannot condescend to grace with victory a man without arms. Therefore, M. Lethière, protesting against their injustice, has the picture exhibited along with the assembled prizes, during a visit of the Duchess de Berry. The princess praises the work of the maimed painter, and the Minister of the Interior commands him to paint "St. Louis administering Justice under an Oak," for the Museum of his native town. At this period Ducornet quits the studio of M. Lethière to follow his own independent course. The first fruit of his emancipated labor is a picture, represent |