MISCELLANEOUS. 307 



ered round the festive board on the late Anniversary of tbe Agassiz birth-day, 

 "■when Hope and Memory kissed," in welcoming him into his fiftieth year. No 

 "wonder that the poets found a ready inspiration alike for grave and graceful fancies; 

 and for humorous, yet kindly irony, aud playful badinage, such as sports with his 

 favourite ethnic opinions, and humorously hints at the heresie.--.of his scientific 

 views in relation to his Adamie ancestry. 



Various impromptu contributions proved the richness of the poetic fancy and 

 humour which the happy occasion excited ; whi'e others, from the pens of some 

 of America's most gifted poets, will survive as lasting memorials of the happy 

 festive meeting. The following is the lively contribution of James Russell 

 Lowell : — 



A health to him who readied to-day 



Life's height of water-shedding, 

 Where Hope and Memory kiss and say 



Let's keep our golden wedding; 

 To him whose glow the heart could reach 



Of glaciers that he studied, 

 Who learned whatever fish could teach, 

 Except to be cold-blooded ! 



To him, who, if our earth were lost, 



And Nature wanted counsel, 

 Could make it over at less cost 



From ridge-pole down to groun' sill: 

 Could call the Dodo back to youth. 



Could call Ornithorynchus, 

 Nay ! were we gone, from just a tooth 



Could good as new re-think us ! 



To him who every egg has scanned, 



From roc to flea included, 

 Save those which savants find so grand 



In nests where mares have brooded ! 

 To him, who gives us each full leave 



(His pedigree amended,) 

 To choose a private Adam and Eve 



From whom to be descended 1 



But stay— for chance-come thoughts are best — 



I meant the health to proffer 

 Of him, our friend there and our guest, 



And yet not that I offer :— 

 No, rather drink this toast with me, 



Worth any common dozen : 

 Here's Adam and Eve Agassiz, 



To whom we owe our cousin! 



Such is a good specimen of the gayer fancies which the happy anniversary has 

 called forth. The following piece is graver, more earnest, and as we think, worthy 

 of the occasion, no less than of the pen of America's gifted poet Longfellow: — 



It was fifty years ago 



In the pleasant month of May, 

 In the beautiful P?^ys de Valid, 



A child in its cradle lay. 



And Nature, the old nurse took 



The child upon her knee, 

 Saying : " Here is a story-book 



Thy Father has written for thee. 



